manners and conduct in school and out by the deans of girls in chicago high schools _the gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne; for a man by nothing is so well bewrayed as by his manners._ --spenser allyn and bacon boston new york chicago atlanta san francisco copyright, , by fanny r. smith. norwood press j.s. gushing co.--berwick & smith co. norwood, mass., u.s.a. foreword "the supreme business of the school is to develop a sense of justice, the power of initiative, independence of character, correct social and civic habits, and the ability to coöperate toward the common good."--dr. frank crane. how do you develop correct social habits, the habits of a gentleman or a lady? you develop correct social habits just as you develop correct habits in playing ball, or in swimming,--you discover the rules; then you practise, practise, practise. a good general rule is, do what a kind heart prompts; for, politeness is to do and say the kindest thing in the kindest way. we earnestly hope this little book may help girls and boys to become happier, more agreeable, and more effective citizens. the deans of girls, chicago high schools. maxims of conduct let us have faith that right makes might; and in that faith let us dare to do our duty as we understand it. --lincoln. whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well. --earl of chesterfield. do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of. --franklin. the secret of success is constancy of purpose. --disraeli. evil communications corrupt good manners. --new testament. be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; do noble things, not dream them, all day long; and so make life, death, and that vast forever one grand sweet song. --kingsley. vice is a monster of so frightful mien, as to be hated needs but to be seen; yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, we first endure, then pity, then embrace. --pope. in vain we call old notions fudge, and bend our conscience to our dealing; the ten commandments will not budge, and stealing will continue stealing. --lowell. greeting _life is not so short but that there is always time enough for courtesy._ --emerson. girls, the word _lady_ should suggest, ideally, a girl (or a woman) who keeps herself physically fit, her thinking on a high plane, and her manners gentle and winsome. boys, the word _gentleman_ means, ideally, a fine, athletic, manly fellow who is an all round good sport in the best sense, and who has manners that do not prevent other people from seeing how fine he is. the street _remember this,--that there is a proper dignity and proportion to be observed in the performance of every act of life._ --marcus aurelius. ) if you are well brought up, girls, you will not loiter on the street to talk to one another; much less to boys. street visiting is taboo. ) boys, a gentleman does not detain on street corners a girl or woman friend. if he meets one with whom he wishes to speak more than a moment, he asks permission to walk a little way with her. during the moment that he does detain her, a gentleman talks with his hat in his hand. ) you know that a boy should lift his hat or cap in recognition of a girl or woman acquaintance whom he meets on the street. but perhaps you don't know that the same courtesy may well be offered to a man, and must be, if the man is walking with a girl or a woman. ) to spit on the street or sidewalk is likely to endanger the health of others, and to make you seem vulgar and "horrid." use your handkerchief. the street-car _immodest words admit of no defence, for want of decency is want of sense._ --earl of roscommon. ) avoid rushing ahead of others to secure a seat in a street-car, or to secure any other special advantage. some one must be last; why not you? if advancing out of turn is necessary, a little deliberation accompanied with, "i beg your pardon," or "excuse me, please" will most quickly and pleasantly open the way; otherwise, respect "the line." ) in a street-car, boys, you should touch your hat politely and offer your seat to a woman, a girl, or an elderly man who is standing. your courtesy should be accepted with a bow and, "thank you." ) girls, if a seat is offered you, accept it at once with "thank you." don't explain that you don't mind standing. ) on the street, in street-cars, and in all public places, if your voice or conduct attracts attention you will be considered "loud," "common," vulgar. ) the chewing of gum in a street-car, in church, or in any other place outside of your own private room stamps you at once as "common." corridors _liberty exists in proportion to wholesome restraint._ --webster. ) avoid all running in the corridors; start in time, and walk. ) avoid crowding on stairways. avoid crowding through assembly hall doors. when in a mass of people, move slowly and try to keep breathing space about yourself. ) avoid tossing paper on to the lockers. avoid dropping it on the floor; but if paper is there, train yourself to see it and to pick up at least one piece every time you enter the corridor. this is what dr. crane calls a "civic habit." ) boys, hats off on entering the building; don't put them on again before you are at the outer door ready to leave, even though you should see grown men violating this rule. ) hold a door open for a girl or an older person to precede you in passing through; then glance over your shoulder to prevent the door from swinging back into the face of any person who may be following. ) in order to appear to the best advantage, keep your hands out of your pockets. ) try not to jostle one another. if by chance you do, say, "pardon me." ) observe, boys, that well-bred men rise when addressed by a woman who is standing. ) avoid whistling in the school building, and even in a private home, for your whistling may be annoying to some who cannot help hearing it. ) never, never, be so disgusting as to spit on the floor, on the stairs, or into the waste-paper box; use your handkerchief. ) care for your finger-nails, your face, your hair, in your room at home, not before mirrors on your locker doors, or in any other public place. after making your toilet as well as you can, forget it. ) boys, it is not necessary to help the girls mount the stairs in school unless they are blind or crippled. ) girls, it is better not to twine your arms about one another in the corridors and on the stairs; also, not to kiss one another tenderly if you separate for a few moments. love your friends dearly; but be sensible, not sentimental. ) boys, observe that the moment a woman or a girl enters a passenger elevator, gentlemen there remove their hats,--unless conditions prevent. classroom _in words, as fashions, the same rule will hold, alike fantastic if too new or old: be not the first by whom the new are tried, nor yet the last to lay the old aside._ --pope. ) when you enter your classroom, as well as when you leave it, glance towards your teacher and, if she is looking, bow pleasantly. ) say, "yes, miss brown"; not merely "yes," if you know the name of the one addressed. if you do not know her name, let your tone and manner indicate so fully your feeling of respect that the omission of the name will not be noted. say "yes, sir," to men. and remember,-- hearts, like doors, will ope with ease to very, very little keys; and don't forget that two of these are: "thank you, sir," and "if you please." ) when sitting, push back as far as you can in the chair and lean forward from your hips, keeping your spine straight, not curved. the way you sit or walk or stand shows culture or lack of it. ) when reciting, stand erect with your hands at your sides. your attitude will invite favorable attention if you stand with one foot slightly in advance of the other, and the weight of the body on the forward foot. ) speak so distinctly that everyone in the room must hear you; otherwise, not everyone will get your thought. ) avoid raising your hand when you wish to ask or to answer a question. instead, rise quietly, face your teacher, and wait for her to recognize you as though you were at a club meeting. ) never "tell" when another is trying to recite. such "telling" destroys the other person's chance to think, and helps to make a sneak of you. lunch room _cleanness of body was ever deemed to proceed from a due reverence of god._ --bacon. ) see that your hands are clean. ) avoid rushing into or through the lunch room. walk. ) when carrying your food to your table, pay strict attention to getting it to its destination in safety. ) eat in the lunch room,--not in the corridors, nor in the assembly hall, nor on the street. give four excellent reasons for this direction. ) eat slowly and noiselessly; don't "feed." avoid talking when your mouth is full. take small mouthfuls, so that you may talk without giving offense. keep your lips closed when chewing. never use your knife to carry food to your mouth. ) in the lunch room, as elsewhere, sit with your knees together and with both of your feet on the floor, not on the rounds of your chairs. ) don't _throw_ paper and refuse into the receptacles provided; _drop_ it there. ) avoid boisterous talking and laughing. the tones of the voice proclaim quite accurately the social background of the boy, the girl, the man, the woman. her voice was ever soft, gentle, and low,--an excellent thing in woman. --shakespeare. ) keep elbows and wraps off the lunch room tables; furthermore, do not sit on the tables. ) leave your place in the lunch room tidy and spotless, with your chair pushed up to the table. ) rise when an older person enters the room; remain standing until your courtesy is acknowledged, or until the older person is seated. (optional with the teacher in the schoolroom.) ) boys, when a girl or an older person drops a pencil, a book, or anything of the sort, pick it up and return it unobtrusively, but with a little bow. ) avoid rushing from the room when the bell rings. walk. ) open the door, boys, but let the girls pass out first, whenever practicable. when many are passing in opposite directions, keep to the right. ) never laugh at the accidents or misfortunes of others, even if they have a ridiculous side. nothing shows ill-breeding so surely. he who laughs at others' woes finds few friends and many foes. the assembly hall _there is a time for some things, and a time for all things; a time for great things, and a time for small things._ --cervantes. actions wholly appropriate to the gymnasium or the playground may be quite out of character in the assembly hall. think about it. ) avoid all running, romping, and making of unnecessary noise in the assembly hall. ) avoid using the assembly hall as a thoroughfare. on entering, take a seat immediately, and remain in it until the next bell rings. talk in gentle tones. ) avoid eating anything in the assembly hall. ) avoid dropping paper on the floor. help to keep the room orderly and tidy. ) for a program on the stage, and for general singing, gather quietly in the center sections if your assembly hall is large. you should do this without waiting to be asked. use your judgment. ) the appearance on the platform of one who is to speak to you should be your signal for immediate silence and attention. don't wait to be called to order; call yourselves to order. ) sing so well that you make the general singing a delight. you will find it far more fun than trying to spoil the program. why will you? because it is your nature to feel more satisfaction in coöperating and helping by doing your best, than in hindering and thwarting by doing your worst. (this is the basis of all good manners, and of civic spirit.) ) you should be attentive and silent, not only when some one is talking to you from the platform and when a "number" of any kind is being given, but also during a "movie." people who visit while others are trying to entertain them are a public nuisance. don't let yourselves slip into that class. also do not tell the plot of a play or a movie to your neighbor. ) never, in the assembly hall or in any other place where there is a large group of people, should you stand and beckon, whistle, or "hoo-hoo" to attract the attention of your friends. ) if you enter the assembly hall after the program has begun, find a seat so noiselessly as to escape notice. ) show your appreciation cordially, but avoid excessive applause. never stamp your feet or whistle. carried beyond a certain point, applause ceases to be a courtesy. cultivate good taste in this matter. moderation is a mark of good taste. duty to club or class sponsor _her air, her manners, all who saw admir'd; courteous though coy, and gentle though retir'd; the joy of youth and health her eyes display'd, and ease of heart her every look convey'd._ --crabbe. ) remind your sponsor (or adviser) of your meeting two or three days in advance of the time. ) before acting on any plan, be sure of the approval of your sponsor. ) so treat your sponsor that she (or he) will delight to be with you. the lavatory _cleanliness is next to godliness._ --wesley. ) in school, in a store, in a club, on trains, in short, wherever you use a public wash bowl, leave it as clean as possible. ) do not scatter toilet paper about. keep the toilet rooms neat and clean and free from all writing on doors, walls, windows. ) do not loiter or visit in toilet rooms. duty to your chaperon _though her mien carries much more invitation than command, to behold her is an immediate check to loose behaviour; to love her was a liberal education._ --steele. at school receptions, sleigh-rides, class meetings at private homes, and so on, there is always a chaperon, who is giving her time for your enjoyment. her kindness should be repaid by your courtesy. ) as soon as possible after greeting your hostess, greet your chaperon. ) also, just before leaving, speak to her again cordially and gratefully. ) see that your chaperon is not often left alone. if the function is a dance, invite her to dance; or sit out a dance with her, sometimes. make her enjoy being your chaperon. ) never tease to stay when the time comes to go. ) don't hinder your chaperon by loitering over your wraps; be ready when she is, and leave the building with her. duty to your hostess _but evil is wrought by want of thought, as well as want of heart._ --hood. ) before talking with others at a party greet your hostess; then the older people present; finally, the young people. ) as a guest you are not expected to say good-by to everybody; but never leave without saying good-by to your hostess and expressing appreciation of her efforts to give you pleasure. ) coöperate with your hostess in trying to make everyone present happy. if you fail to pay this courtesy to your hostess, you stamp yourself as an undesirable guest. ) if the function is a dance, boys, avoid too many consecutive dances with the same girl. confining your attentions noticeably to the same girl makes her conspicuous and mars the general pleasure. ) girls, decline consecutive dances with the same boy. do it graciously, explaining that you would like to accept, but must not be selfish. if he is the right sort, he will understand at once, or come to his senses later. if he is offended, don't worry about it; it is not worth while. ) pay some kindly attention to the girls who do not dance all of the time. they will feel grateful, your hostess will feel grateful, you will feel better satisfied than if you neglect them. ) never refrain from dancing if any girl present is without a partner for that number. to refrain is selfish in you, and discourteous to both the girl and your hostess. ) girls, don't quit one of your friends to go and whisper with another. such an action is sure to be considered unkind and inconsiderate. ) train your eye to see how you may add to the enjoyment of all, or of a single one, and act promptly. incidentally, you thus add to your own enjoyment. often think of tennyson's words:-- for manners are not idle, but the fruit of loyal nature and of noble mind. duty to one another _if it is not seemly, do it not; if it is not true, speak it not._ --marcus aurelius. ) after dancing with a girl thank her and walk back with her to her seat, to her chaperon, or to her next partner. never leave her standing alone in the middle of the floor. ) girls, if your partner doesn't dance well, take it pleasantly--but not as too much of a joke--and help him to do better. ) avoid looking at a boy with your soul in your eyes. a girl holds the key to the social situation. she should keep such a situation at school on a cordial but wholly matter-of-fact basis,--absolutely free from sentimentality. ) base your friendships on good comradeship, not on maudlin emotion, nor on propinquity. the right kind of girl and boy friendships may give joy for a lifetime; the wrong kind must be a continual menace. ) don't be prudes, girls, but let every boy know that he must keep his hands off from you. if he presumes, a cool glance on your part will usually restrain him. if it does not, avoid him; he is unworthy of your friendship. ) boys, you can easily tell what girls would have you sit very close to them, and hold their hands, and put your arms around them. but, be manly. always protect a girl; protect her from yourself, even from herself. if she does not wish to be so protected, avoid her as you would the plague. ) when you call on a girl, you shouldn't remain after ten o'clock even though the girl wants you to. girls, you should not urge. and, girls, observe how your boy friends fit themselves into the family group. ) a gift you should acknowledge at once and cordially. but, boys, let your gifts to girls be rare, and restricted to candy, books, and flowers. ) to force your presence upon those who seem not to want you, tends to crystallize their feeling of antagonism. on the other hand, nothing more quickly disarms this feeling of antagonism than evidence of delicacy on your part. ) girls, it is poor policy to call up boys often by telephone, and bad manners to whistle to attract their attention. ) for you to sit at a social gathering with hat and coat on, girls,--even though you must leave in a few moments,--is discourteous both to your hostess and to the other guests. duty to older people _the mildest manners, and the gentlest heart._ --pope. ) show especial deference--not indifference--to your superiors in age, office, and the like. do this not once, but always. watch for opportunities. ) rise, when an older person who is standing begins to talk to you. ) if you wish to become a musician, you seek help from the finest musical instructor within reach. just so in the greater art of living effectively, seek help from those who have learned wisdom. as a rule, your parents and your teachers are your best counsellors. they have traveled the road before you, and have your highest interests at heart. listen to them. don't make your life a wild experiment in blundering; it doesn't pay. ) never regard age, even advanced age, as a joke. to do so blunts your own sensibilities. invitations _that man may last, but never lives, who much receives, but nothing gives._ --gibbons. ) if you receive a written invitation, send a written reply. let the reply accord with the invitation in being either formal, or informal. ) you will be thought discourteous if you fold your note carelessly, write on soiled or ragged paper, use pencil instead of ink, or delay your reply. ) accepting an invitation binds you, in honor, to carry out your engagement. if circumstances prevent, at once inform the one who invited you; and do it in a considerate manner. introductions introduce a man to a woman, a boy to a girl, a younger person to an older, thus: mrs. jones, may i present (or introduce) my friend miss holbrook? or, miss brown, my friend mr. williams; or, father, this is ethel reed. let your manner and voice be dignified and gracious, your words simple. but _avoid_,--mrs. jones, meet miss holbrook; or, mr. brown, shake hands with mr. smith. dancing requirements _come and trip it as ye go on the light fantastic toe._ --milton. the national association of dancing masters is responsible for the following rules. you may well think those dancers who disregard them either ignorant, or awkward, or vulgar. ) face your partner at a distance of six or eight inches, bodies parallel, shoulders parallel. ) if you are leading, place your right hand between the shoulders of your partner, keeping your right elbow well away from your body. ) see that above, but not resting on this arm, is your partner's left arm, at right angles with her body, her hand just back of the curve of your shoulder. ) let your left hand, palm up, clasp your partner's right. a line from these hands to the opposite elbows should be parallel with your parallel bodies. ) remember,--bobbing and wriggling are taboo. let the spring come from the ankles and the knees. imitate the grace of the swallow. refreshments at parties _socrates said, "bad men live that they may eat and drink, whereas good men eat and drink that they may live."_ --plutarch. ) keep your refreshments simple and inexpensive. after you are better acquainted, omit them frequently. ) boys, you should be alert to help serve, but use your judgment; don't go off in a group to enjoy yourselves in the business of serving or eating. ) avoid dropping crumbs on the floor or scattering them over the serving tables. avoid placing anything hot or moist on a surface that may be disfigured by it. ) pay special attention to any who seem shy or afraid to mingle with the other guests. see that everybody has a good time. ) help clean up at once, boys, what should be cleaned up, and leave the room you use in perfect order. don't walk off and let the girls do it all. make yourselves useful until the work is finished. table manners _some hae meat and canna eat, and some would eat that want it; but we hae meat, and we can eat, sae let the lord be thankit._ --burns. ) do you know that table manners proclaim at once your social training? ) boys, at a dining table, draw back the chair for the girl or the woman next to you, push it under her as she sits down, and then take your own seat. ) girls and boys, let your napkin lie open across your lap. ) at home leave your napkin folded neatly, or in its ring, if there is a ring. but, let it lie loose beside your plate when you are at a hotel; partly folded, when you are a guest in a private home. ) never use a toothpick at the table or in the presence of others. if it seems absolutely necessary to use one at the table, cover your lips with your napkin; elsewhere, with your handkerchief. ) hold your knife in your right hand, not as though it were a penholder, but so that you may easily press down on the back of the knife with your right forefinger. ) in a similar position, when cutting food, hold your fork tines down with your left hand. but, in carrying food to your mouth, have the tines curve up, not down, and take your fork in your right hand between your thumb and forefinger, so that it rests comfortably near the tip of the second finger. ) never should your table knife be used for conveying food to your mouth. ) you find your small bread and butter plate and butter spreader at your left. never spread at once an entire slice of bread; break off a half or a quarter and spread it on your bread and butter plate,--not on the palm of your hand. ) when your plate is passed for a second helping, let your knife and fork remain on it, side by side; also, when you have finished. never rest your knife or fork partly on the table and partly on your plate or your napkin ring. avoid mixing your food on your plate. ) use a fork when eating vegetables and salad,--and ice-cream, if an ice-cream fork is provided. ) if cutting the lettuce leaves of your salad is necessary, cut with your fork. ) make the least possible noise in chewing, and none at all in taking food from a spoon. sometimes, in eating crisp toast, for example, it is very difficult to avoid a crunching sound, but eat slowly, taking very small mouthfuls, and you can avoid noise. ) don't drink from a cup while it holds a spoon. when not using your teaspoon, let it lie on the saucer. do not drink from your saucer. stir quietly, and lay your spoon in your saucer at once. ) at the table, keep your hands in your lap when you are not eating; toying with articles on the table is bad form. ) between courses, avoid lounging back in your chair; keep your spine straight, your body poised a little forward, and your mind occupied with the conversation which you are helping to make pleasant. ) eat a little less of everything than you might. shrink from the slightest appearance of greediness. ) use knives, forks, and spoons in the order you find them. when in doubt, observe your hostess. ) after dipping the tips of your fingers into your finger bowl, dry them lightly on your napkin. ) when the hostess rises, boys, rise and draw back the chair of the girl or the woman next you as she rises, and let her precede you from the room. duty to yourself _this above all: to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man._ --shakespeare. ) take a complete bath at least three times a week; better still, every day. ) keep your hair, teeth, finger nails, and clothes in good condition. look well groomed. ) if you eat, sleep, and exercise properly, your health and your complexion will be at their best. consult your gymnasium teacher on the subject, or consult a reliable book. ) girls, when you dress your hair too startlingly, wear waists that are too low or too thin, use powder and rouge, you remind boys and men of the wrong kind of woman. the best time for cosmetics, if you must use them, is not during your school days. ) of course dress as becomingly as you can; but, in the main, rely for your attractiveness on your attainments, your gentle manners, your tact, and your active desire to render others comfortable and happy. ) cultivate charm, girls and boys. the best teacher of "how to be charming," is a really kind heart. every one of you can have that. ) if your heart is kind, you will learn to talk interestingly, and to listen intelligently. ) try, increasingly, to fit your word to your thought, and your thought to the fact. being accurate does not mean being dull. effective speech has much need for imagination, but very little for common slang. you understand and enjoy,-- these growing feathers plucked from caesar's wing will make him fly an ordinary pitch. if, however, in slang phrase, a person spoke of "swiping caesar's dope"; or of making caesar "come off his perch," you would see that something fine in the thought had vanished. practise expressing your ideas as attractively as possible. ) don't make cutting remarks about those who are absent; your wit may win a laugh, but its unkindness will cause others to like you the less. they will feel uncomfortable about what you may say of them in _their_ absence. ) whenever you are curious about the wonderful experience which we call "birth," think of it reverently, and go at once for information to your father or mother; if you lack these, to some high-minded friend much older than you. otherwise, inclose a stamped envelope addressed to yourself in a letter to the y.m.c.a. or the y.w.c.a. or the federal bureau of information, washington, d.c., asking the title of the best book for a boy or a girl of your age, about the beginnings of life. ) never listen to explanations from the ignorant or the vulgar. impure thoughts on this subject lead to the ruin of both body and spirit. pure thoughts lead to the most precious possessions the world can give: father, mother, sister, brother, friend, husband, wife, children, home, country. ) be dependable. if any quality is _most_ desirable, it is that of dependableness. in school you have wonderful opportunities for cultivating it. ) every one of you should aim to become economically independent. to that end, decide on a vocation and plan your studies accordingly. if you wish to change later, very well; but always work towards a definite goal. ) avoid showing your displeasure with an acquaintance by not bowing. to do so is crude. a formal bow should be bestowed even on an enemy. "cut" an acquaintance only when you have reason to believe him an utterly unfit companion. ) "make up" at once with a friend. "i'm sorry," helps. but in case this fails, find a way that succeeds. don't lose your friend. ) be courteous, frank, and friendly. don't try to be popular by attracting attention. popularity which has to be sought is of short duration. home _such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam,-- his first, best country ever is at home._ --goldsmith. ) the finer you are, the more certain you will be to practice in your own home every courtesy which you know is due elsewhere. if you are not polite and considerate in your home, you cannot help showing that fact away from home. ) the spirit that aims at giving pleasure rather than annoyance or pain will not wish to take any "vacation." at first, the courteous thought and act may require conscious effort. persistent practice, however, crystallizes this conscious effort into confirmed habit; the result is, a _lady_, a _gentleman_. the etiquette of to-day handbooks by edith b. ordway the handbook of conundrums mo, cloth $ . net the handbook of quotations mo, cloth $ . net the etiquette of to-day mo, cloth $ . net handbook of the operas new and enlarged edition mo, cloth $ . net full paste, grain leather $ . net synonyms and antonyms mo, cloth $ . net george sully & company new york the etiquette of to-day revised and enlarged by edith b. ordway author of "the opera book," etc. new york george sully and company _copyright, _ by sully and kleinteich * * * * * _revised edition, copyright, _ by george sully and company _all rights reserved_ printed in u. s. a. preface the customs of social life need frequent restating and adaptation to new needs. they are customs because they are the best rules of conduct that have been garnered from the experiences of succeeding generations under common conditions. to know them, to catch their spirit, and to follow them in an intelligent way, without slavish punctiliousness but with careful observance, make one skillful in the art of social intercourse, and at home in any society. etiquette will not take the place of character, nor of an accurate knowledge of human nature and the arts of practical life. given these, however, it will unlock to any man or woman doors of success and profit and real happiness which, without it, would have remained forever closed. e. b. o. "we feel 'at home' wherever we know how to conduct ourselves." t. l. nichols contents chapter page i. the rewards of etiquette ii. personality iii. family etiquette obligations of the married general rules of conduct table etiquette anniversaries the giving of presents intimate friends illness in the home courtesy to servants iv. conversation and correspondence the art of conversation correspondence paper ink handwriting sealing, stamping, and directing of envelopes salutation, conclusion, and signature of letters letters of introduction letters of recommendation third-person letters informal invitations and announcements letters of condolence answering letters v. casual meetings and calls greetings and recognitions introductions calls social calls of men first calls vi. the personal card and the engraved invitation form of card inscription titles use the engraved invitation dining and party invitations wedding invitations and announcements various announcement cards vii. behavior in public viii. the art of being a guest ix. duties of host and hostess breakfasts and luncheons the formal dinner visits special duties of the country hostess public functions x. duties of the chaperon xi. etiquette of the marriage engagement the proposal announcement of engagement bridal "showers" the broken engagement preparation for a wedding xii. the conduct of a wedding the church wedding the home wedding the wedding breakfast the wedding journey the wedding fee wedding presents the country wedding xiii. etiquette for children xiv. etiquette of mourning xv. military, naval, and flag etiquette the formal military wedding naval and yachting usage etiquette of the flag index "the secret of success in society is a certain heartiness and sympathy. a man who is not happy in the company cannot find any word in his memory that will fit the occasion. all his information is a little impertinent. a man who is happy there finds in every turn of the conversation equally lucky occasions for the introduction of that which he has to say. the favorites of society, and what it calls _whole souls_, are able men, and of more spirit than wit, who have no uncomfortable egoism, but who exactly fill the hour and the company, contented and contenting, at a marriage or a funeral, a ball or a jury, a water party or a shooting match." _emerson._ the etiquette of to-day chapter i the rewards of etiquette society is a game which all men play. "etiquette" is the name given the rules of the game. if you play it well, you win. if you play it ill, you lose. the prize is a certain sort of happiness without which no human being is ever quite satisfied. because the demand for social happiness is thus fundamental in human nature, the game has to be played quite seriously. if played seriously, it is perforce successful, even when the outward signs of triumph are lacking. played seriously, it becomes a worthy part of the great enterprise of noble living, the science of which is called "ethics." therefore the best etiquette is that which is based upon the fundamental principles of ethics. the etiquette, as well as the ethics, of to-day may well be summed up in the one maxim known as the "golden rule": "do unto others as you would that others should do unto you." or in the philosophic statement of it, given by kant: "act so that the maxim of thy conduct shall be fit to be universal law." a certain social sense is, therefore, the foundation upon which all concerted action rests; and this, permeating the character and winning conformity in the life, produces a social order which is at once the criterion of civilization and the source of its power. every social code presupposes the trained personality, that is, the individual who is intelligent enough and controlled enough to conform to the rules prescribed for the good of all. it is only in the common good that true individual good can be found. therefore is it so essential that every man regard his brother's welfare as anxiously as his own, and permit himself to be curbed in his extravagances, limited in the indulgence of even legitimate desires, in order that he may not defraud another, or menace the general well-being. not only in social life, but in business, politics, and international relations, this principle of the common good as the ultimate goal, the supreme authority for conduct, holds good. to it society approaches, now by direct progress and now by seeming reaction, but ever with a higher evaluation of justice. this is shown in the fulfillment of both small and large obligations. following the rules of courtesy, men give to each other that deference which each believes is his own due, and each receives in return twofold the deference that he sincerely gives. men show, at home and abroad, the courtesy to women in general that they would wish shown to those of their family, and thereby the standard of respect for woman is so lifted that even the city street at night is a safe place for a woman to pass unaccosted, if it is necessary for her to go unattended. rigidly do we hold ourselves to the established rules of good breeding, endeavoring to make of ourselves all that nature will permit; and we are surprised to find that nature's own gentlemen and gentlewomen gather about us, and rare souls look to us for companionship, as finding in us kindred spirits. no field so surely bears a like harvest as the one sown with the seeds of good-will and consideration for others. etiquette tells us how to accomplish what we desire,--to make clear the path to the goal of high companionship with many worthy minds,--and enables us to get out of social intercourse the honey that is hidden there. without it, as social beings, we should be as workmen without tools, architects without material, musicians without instruments. after all, however, etiquette is only a tool, and should never be mistaken for the finished work itself. how you carry yourself at a reception is not a matter of so great moment, as is the fact that you went, and there exchanged certain worth-while thoughts with certain people. it is the people, the thoughts they gave you and you gave them, and the practical influence on your life of those people and those thoughts, which are of moment. just as, from a musicale, you must carry the music away in your soul, either in definite memories or in a refreshed and more joyous frame of mind, or it is of no avail that you attended, so from social intercourse it is absolutely necessary that you carry away the inspiration of meeting others and the thoughts that they have given you, and garner from those help and guidance in your life, or the most elaborate of toilets, the most perfect of manners, and the most ceremonious of customs are of little worth. the tool, however, becomes invaluable when the master desires to create. therefore, if we wish to gain from social life the enjoyment and happiness and help which it should yield, we should become familiar with the practice of the best forms of etiquette, so that we shall have skill and aptitude in their application. the rewards of etiquette are, therefore, both spiritual and material. that fine poise of soul which restrains all selfish and unlovely tendencies, that clear insight which sees the individual as but a single unit in the composite of the human race, that high aspiration which culls only the best from the mingled elements of life,--all these come from a true and sincere adherence to the spirit of courteous observances, and each of these is its own reward. on the other hand, human hearts open only to gentle influences, and all that it is in the power of human beings to bestow upon one another comes most readily and most lavishly to those who outrage no social instinct. to be highly and sincerely honored socially means to be well loved, and that must mean to be lovable. wealth and family position are matters of chance as far as the individual is concerned, but good breeding is a matter of personal desire and effort. it makes for power and influence, and often literally commands the wealth and position which the accident of birth has refused. it is the necessary colleague of intellectual ability in winning the farthest heights of success, and makes the plains of mediocre attainment habitable and pleasant. chapter ii personality the social world is a world of personalities. each individual has a value and importance according to the sum total of his characteristics, physical, mental, and moral. other and more external facts enter into his social position, but in the circle of his friends and acquaintances, in whatever grade of society he may move, his place is determined by his personality. personality alone is the final test of a man's worth to society. a man's worth to the business world as a doer, maker, or as any other executive, his worth to the state as an incorruptible official, his worth to his family as a devoted husband and father, his worth to literature or art as a thinker or maker,--these values are imprinted upon his personality, howbeit with almost imperceptible lines. if a man would present a pleasing personality as his claim for recognition in society, he must not neglect his mental attitude, his appearance, his manners, or his speech. they are all true expressions of his real self, and they, together with his deeds, are all that his fellow men have by which to appraise his real worth. character is the foundation of all true courtesy, for manners are but minor morals, as many a writer has shown. it is not the part of a book on etiquette to tell how to keep out of prison, or to explain that one should be honorable and should do no murder. no book or person, however, can inculcate etiquette without showing that the roots of all true courtesy lie deep in the spirit of unselfish consideration for others. to master this spirit until it becomes one's own is the best fitting one can have for social achievement. such consideration is the touchstone by which all social customs are tried, to see whether they be worthy of perpetuation or not. it is the sure test of correct conduct under all circumstances, and can be so utilized in case of doubt. a veneer of virtue long passes as currency in no society. it is necessary to have character in order to be respected. as etiquette is founded upon certain simple virtues, it is necessary, at least, to affect the semblance of them. to be long effective they must be sincere, as a little experience shows. among the minor moral virtues which in social life are of major importance are those of self-control, sincerity, and unselfishness. there is no place for anger in social life. to give expression among a group of people to any strong feeling, no matter how justified it may be, is not courteous, because you may be inadvertently treading upon the beliefs or prejudices of some of your hearers. there are times when debate and the taking of sides on questions of common interest are in order, but that is not usually in the mixed society of men and women, who are supposedly dropping, for a time, the burdens of life for the sake of enjoyment and recreation. self-control is necessary not only in the constant curbing of anger and the more violent emotions, but in pushing into the background one's personal desires in order that one may do one's social duty. a bridesmaid may have assumed the obligations of that honor, and then found that, for personal reasons, they were distasteful to her. she should not, however, permit herself to fail in one iota of her duty. the always-remembered disappointment of the bride, or bridegroom, if either bridesmaid or best man should fail, at a time when life should be as full of happiness as it possibly could, should more than offset the pain of even difficult control on the part of the chosen friend, in order to carry out his or her obligations satisfactorily. in thousands of minor circumstances the need of absolute self-command for the sake of social virtues is evident. the man and woman who can so control themselves, and think only of others, win warm places in the hearts of their friends. it is a dreary thing to be always sustaining a sham of any sort. sincerity has its pleasure as well as its virtue. one should seek to be sincere, as perhaps no social virtue is of greater importance than this. the possibilities of development of character and of the betterment of social customs depend upon the exercise of this virtue. for that reason it is well to follow carefully the acknowledged rules of etiquette, in the hope and expectation of growing into the attitude of mind which will make them a natural expression of one's self. "the little observances of social life," says dr. t. l. nichols in his book on "social life," "are more important than many people think them. the outward signs or expressions of any sentiment not only manifest it to others, but help to keep it active in ourselves. this is the use of all ceremony and ritualism in religion . . . and the same principle governs all social ceremonies and observances." without unselfishness and a fine consideration for others, the art of etiquette would be impossible. true etiquette learns no maxims to practise mechanically. rather, it learns all the maxims upon which it may have to draw, and practises them only as the considerate heart sees an opportunity and desires to embrace it. personal appearance is next to character in importance. the most important factors in this, with the average person, are not those that nature alone is responsible for, but those that the individual himself is alone responsible for. beauty is a pleasant thing, and not to be despised, although beauty alone is of little worth. the social conquests of history have not been confined to the possessors of beauty, and there have been many notable cases where decided plainness and even ugliness was the lot of one who nevertheless was a person of great charm. one's figure and bearing count perhaps for most, as they give the first and distant impression, and are, as it were, the outlines of the picture. self-consciousness, for any reason and to even the slightest degree, is a great barrier to social intercourse and to mental freedom. it shows as often in a person's carriage as in his words or features. it should be broken down at all costs, and this can be done only by the person himself. it may be done, usually with comparative ease, by becoming and staying interested in something. then awkwardness, and a defiant attitude of spirit and body, will vanish. haughtiness is usually the outward sign of a great inner self-consciousness. all of these traits, as well as their opposites, stamp themselves upon the bearing of the body, and reveal there the clearest manifestations of character. dress is almost as essential. by this is not meant a rigid adherence to fashion,--the stamp of a weak mind,--or even good taste, but an eye to the appropriate and fitting. first of all, dress should be subordinated to character, that is, it should be no more costly than the wearer can afford, and no more striking than modesty and good taste allow. good taste in dress means plain and simple styles, but material as elegant, serviceable, and pleasing as one's purse permits. it means also a few things well chosen and kept in good order, rather than many things more or less untidy; that one's wardrobe will be harmonious,--not a cheap, shabby garment to-day, and an expensive, showy one to-morrow. it means also that the wardrobe throughout, not only the external garments, is equally well chosen and well cared for. one should not mix one's wardrobe. a coat of one suit and the skirt of another should not be worn together. a carriage parasol should not be used on a sunny promenade, nor an umbrella in a carriage, or open automobile. it is necessary to wear a dress appropriate to the occasion in order to be well dressed. no matter how excellent one's costume may be, if it does not suit the time and place it is absurd and incongruous. some of the major rules for appropriate dress are as follows: full evening dress demands one's most elaborate gown, made of silk, satin, velvet, lace, or crêpe-de-chine, as costly as one's purse permits, with décolleté effects, gained by either actual cut or the use of lace and chiffon. one should wear delicate shoes, white or light-colored gloves, and appropriate jewels, of which it is not good taste to have too lavish a display. as hostess at an afternoon reception or luncheon one may wear an elaborate gown of the richest materials, with either long sleeves and high neck, or elbow sleeves and slightly low neck. as guest one may wear a walking suit, with pretty blouse, white gloves, and decorative hat. the usual dress for a formal breakfast is much the same as for a luncheon,--a pretty afternoon street costume, with a dainty blouse, gloves, and "picture" hat, which is not removed. in summer, a gown of light material, such as organdie, muslin, or other soft goods, dainty and somewhat elaborate, is in good taste. hat and gloves are invariably worn with this gown if the affair is ceremonious. for church wear, a quiet, rather simple street dress, which does not proclaim that either money or time has been spent upon it to any notable extent, is by far the most appropriate. the suit should be becoming but inconspicuous. ball costume is conventionally gay and elaborate, the lightest of materials being used, especially by those who intend to take part in the dancing, and a dainty effect being sought. any costly, rich-looking materials are used, and a wide range of fashion is permitted. the gown is cut short-sleeved and décolleté, and the dancing shoes are of satin or very fine kid. jewels are worn but sparingly by young women in their first season in society. the costume of a débutante at her first ball is usually white. at an informal dinner, any pretty gown may be worn, with special attention to the coiffure. black should never be worn at a wedding. if one does not care to lay it aside for the time being, one should not attend. for men, the proper costume for an early morning breakfast is the black cutaway coat with gray trousers, and other details as for a formal breakfast. in summer a gray morning suit with fancy waistcoat, or white flannels or linen, with appropriate hat, shoes, and tie, is permissible. at a formal breakfast men wear frock coats, fancy waistcoats, gray trousers, patent-leather shoes, large ties, high hats, and gray gloves. afternoon dress for formal functions between noon and evening consists of a double-breasted black frock coat, or a black cutaway coat, with either light or dark waistcoat, gray trousers, patent-leather shoes, light four-in-hand tie, and light gloves. evening dress is the correct attire for all occasions after six o'clock. it consists of a black suit,--coat cut "swallow-tail," and waistcoat cut low and in the shape of a "u,"--with white lawn tie, patent-leather pumps, black silk stockings, white gloves, and no jewelry but shirt studs, cuff links, and an inconspicuous watch fob. a black overcoat of some stylish cut and a silk hat or crush or opera hat is also worn. full evening dress is a man's costume for a formal dinner. the tuxedo or short dinner coat with a black tie is intended only for dinners where women are not present. although its use on other occasions is common, it is not correct, and ill accords with the elaborate gown which is usually worn at the formal dinner. one should always have the appearance of being "well-groomed." it is a minor matter to add to habits of personal cleanliness, which every man and woman of refinement adheres to with scrupulous conscientiousness, that attention to the little details and finishing touches of dressing, which give the impression conveyed in that graphic expression "well-groomed." the niceties of life are always matters of small care but great moment. the aim to be beautiful is a legitimate one, and worthy of the attention of every lover of beauty. to make the most of one's self, both for one's own sake and that of those about one, is a duty. much can be done if good taste is consulted, and one's salient good points studied and emphasized. one can at least dress characteristically, and so bring out the ideals to which one gives adherence. for instance, the business woman, in business hours, dresses with that same effort after efficiency and economy of time and strength that she has to put into her business to make it successful. she is, therefore, besides being scrupulously neat, perfectly plainly and yet durably and comfortably dressed. the sudden storm does not catch her unprepared, for she cannot afford to lose even an hour's work next day because she "caught cold." she permits no fussing with her garments, therefore they have to be in perfect working order, as fussing takes time, and time is money. her hair is done neatly, and as becomingly as possible, but securely for the day. if, on the other hand, the business woman be a milliner, whose own artistic personality must be her best advertisement, she takes pains to dress artistically even though she wear less serviceable and more elaborate costumes. she should, however, give the same impression of neatness and businesslike serviceableness, with the additional artistic impression which is going to show her customer that she knows how to bring out the telling points in her own personality, and create a charming effect. the housewife needs, in her choice of morning garments, the same effectiveness as the business woman, for she must also work with real efficiency; but, in addition, she needs to give the impression of homelike abandon, as well as beauty and grace, which shall appear restful. the art of correct speech and intelligent conversation is one which every one who wishes to hold an envied place in society should possess. there is no more attractive accomplishment. others have only a limited use and give only an occasional pleasure, while good conversation is appropriate to almost any occasion, and amuses and entertains when all other interests have palled. if one does not undertake to cultivate the art of conversation, one should at least be correct in speech. one should not permit slovenly expressions, or slang, or the thousand and one faults of mispronunciation and ungrammatical construction into which people fall, to be characteristic of one's speaking. for if one has time to go into society, one should have time and money enough to make one's self presentable mentally as well as physically, and nothing so clearly shows lack of intelligence and appreciation of the matters of the intellect, as carelessness and neglect of the words one uses and the thoughts one utters. no physical defect is more glaring than the mental defect revealed in every sentence of such a person. mannerisms of speech or act are glaring flaws in the personality which would delight to charm, and successfully preclude the possibility of popularity among refined people. many a man and woman of character have been barred from the pleasurable enjoyment of society, even by people of less character though of more surface refinement than themselves, because they lacked the intelligence and the good sense to abolish certain mannerisms of act or expression, which, though they may have had normal and logical causes, were not such as society could enjoy or approve, and would not tend to anything but harm if characteristic of many people. certain rather glaring faults are quite conspicuous among all classes of women, for reasons which are hard to determine, but which must be general as the faults are so prevalent. women, as a rule, do not respect an appointment and keep it punctually, interrupt conversation repeatedly and ruthlessly, keep visitors waiting by needless delays, and do not seem to notice or regret the sacrifice that some courtesy to them may have caused another. the arraignment of women for these faults is indeed serious, for social misdemeanors could not easily be much worse. it means that the deep heart-feeling of courtesy is quite lacking from certain classes of women,--classes not to be marked off distinctly from any grade of wealth or learning. if the ladies of a fashionable and progressive intellectual club will not, after two or three years of repeated requests, make it a habit, one and all, to remove their hats during a dinner and the subsequent speeches in a crowded and level-floored club dining-room, it is useless to look for any finer courtesy among the "cultured" than among the work-worn "laboring" classes. as a rule the women least at fault in these matters are the business women, a fact which would seem to prove that lack of business and professional training was in part responsible for the general apathy and indifference toward these matters of ordinary courtesy. courtesy, like honesty, is the best policy in all our dealings with our fellow men. therefore, we cannot afford to neglect to exercise it. politeness and interest in others alike lead one to make those inquiries concerning friends and their families which show real concern in their welfare, and which are exceedingly gratifying to all. often this kindly trait alone gives one a reputation for charm, although it has its disadvantages, to be sure, in its demands upon one's sympathy and patience. we each know that we are worth while. we should, therefore, treat others on that assumption, and thereby make them rise to their potential worth. the good that a person, who thus calls out the good within people, may do is limited only by his acquaintance. personality is, after all, one's greatest asset in life. no thought or effort should be spared in making it pleasing and inspiring,--a fit expression of one's character and ideals, and a worthy gift to the world. chapter iii family etiquette the permanence of a courteous manner is the test of its sincerity. if one is polite invariably everywhere but at home, one's politeness is as superficial as a disguise, and as easily penetrated by the discerning. unselfish consideration for others meets its sternest discipline in the home and in family relations, and becomes, under that discipline, a reliable guide, instinctively consulted in every emergency. without manners at home, it is impossible to preserve the real nobility and unselfishness of character which make a man or a woman socially desirable. _obligations of the married_ the marriage relation, while based upon certain fundamental principles, and not to be preserved without adherence to them, has some little etiquette of its own which adds to its happiness. the solemnization of marriage is a sacred ceremony and should be observed in a reverent spirit. to partake of its home intimacies for the first time as of a sacrament, and to perpetuate that same spirit on the anniversaries of the day, will do much toward making it a holy and a happy union. every marriage should be at least a perfect friendship; so a married couple should observe with each other the same little courtesies that they would observe if still only friends, being as deferential in greeting one another in public, as careful of each other's feelings, and as observant of each other's preferences. a woman should remember to accept from her husband, as her due and without surprise or awkwardness, the little attentions which she expects and receives in society. a man, also, should expect, and not be disappointed in receiving, the graceful little appreciations and courtesies which the woman of charm extends to the man of achievement in her social circle. the difference between the appreciations of society and those of the family is mainly that, in society, only the men of mark receive them, while, in the home, every man should receive his due; for there his efforts are known, even though they are not signal enough for society to recognize. as equality is the only basis upon which the authority of the home can happily rest, so a complete union of interests is the only basis for the successful financing of a home. while all the virtues of good management of her household, economy in the expenditure of money, taste in dressing herself and her children, and promptness and charm in fulfilling her social duties are expected of a wife, and should be fulfilled to the best of her ability, there are some minor things which make for happiness which should not be neglected. the wife who shines socially should remember that her family needs the charm of her presence more than society does, and it should be a daily household quality rather than for use only on state occasions. the wife should confide in her husband on every matter of importance. she should not trouble him with trivial things, but, if a matter is of concern to her, she should not fail to let him know about it, and get his advice upon it. the cement of love is mutual confidence. if a wife takes pains to understand her husband, to be his companion, and to do her full duty by him, by her children, and by her home, she cannot fail, under the ordinary circumstances of the american home, of winning happiness and making her husband happy. it is in the lack of desire to understand and love that the real menace to the happiness of the home lies. the deep-hearted and thoughtful people approach nearest the ideal of love. it is taken for granted that the husband will perform the major duties of his relation, such as being a good citizen, a good business man, and hence a good provider for his family, and that he will in all things seek the mutual happiness of his family and himself. he must be considerate to his wife if he would keep her love and respect. he should confide his business to her as far as she, in her inexperience, is able to grasp it, and he should teach her the things about it which it is important for her to know. through his conversation alone she can get the rudiments of a good business training, and she will at least be able to comprehend the changes he may make or the difficulties in which he may find himself, and, seeing their cause, thus be able to sympathize, and not to blame, if reverses come. he should so train her in business ways and methods that, in case of his death or disability, she could attend to the business of his estate, even though she could not, or need not, earn money for the family. the work of adjusting the labors of each to those of the other, so that there shall be time for recreation and social life together, should be a matter of mutual effort, and should not be dropped until solved to mutual satisfaction. if the members of the family cannot move in the same social circle, and together, a serious breach of family happiness is threatened. there is no marriage license which gives the right to constant harping upon one another's faults. in this, as in all other respects, the rule of friendship should prevail. a husband should not open his wife's letters, nor should a wife her husband's. all invitations are sent to a husband and wife jointly, except those for such occasions as a stag dinner, or a luncheon or "shower" to which ladies only are invited. if for any reason either the husband or the wife cannot attend a function, the other also must decline. the exceptions to this rule are those cases where a man or a woman of particular talent moves in a circle the interests of which are not especially enjoyable to the other one of the couple, or where the health of the one precludes the possibility of attendance upon affairs of which the other should not be deprived. too long or too frequent use of the excuses which cover these exceptions, reflects seriously upon the marital happiness of the pair. although present together at a function, husband and wife are not paired off together in their entertainment. he takes some other woman out to dinner, and she is escorted by some other man. even at dances and balls it is not good form for them to dance together too frequently, except at public dances where they are two of a private party of four or six, in which case rotation of partners would bring them together more frequently than if a larger number of their personal friends were present. in america a wife never shares her husband's titles. consultation and advice together on everything which concerns either is one of the privileges as well as the duties of marriage. to reproach for errors which were made with good motives and the best of judgment available at the time is always unjust. always to greet and to part from each other with affection is the source of much happiness. neither parent should be overambitious. their personalities make the home, and if they are overworked and crowded with care, the home is not happy. the mother should always remember that home comes first, and should not absent herself from it save at those times and for that length of time when she is really not needed there. neither husband nor wife should confide family matters to any one but each other, nor discuss each other with any other person. companionship means the willingness to let one's own mood be dominated by another. therefore, if they would be companionable, a husband and wife should meet each other's moods halfway. for what is lost personally now and then, far more of greater mutual value is obtained; and it is largely by a habit of companionableness that the happiness of the home can be made so satisfying that there can arise no question of its permanence. to keep one's self up to one's best standard of speech and conduct is necessary, for only thus can the family standard be kept high. an arbitrary disposition in the home ruins the comfort of all. companionship and mutual authority and helpfulness are the only foundations for a happy home. _general rules of conduct_ seek the companionship of the refined and the gentle-mannered if you would be the same. move in that society in whose ways you are versed and whose rules you practice, if you would be appreciated or met with like courtesy. never fail to say kind words to those in distress whom you meet. the kindness, however, must be genuine, and come from the heart, never in stereotyped and hollow phrases. the courtesy which offers attentions should be met with graciousness in receiving them. surprise is a sign that one rates one's self lower than did the person who showed the courtesy. attentions should be warmly accepted, and the gratitude expressed should be of the sort which does not forget. a woman, when in the presence of the men of the family, should expect that doors will be opened for her, that she will pass through them first, that packages will be carried, and errands run. she should not, however, let these little attentions be paid her by her father or an elderly relative. enter a room filled with people in a dignified manner and with a slight bow to the general company. "we all do stamp our value on ourselves" is true enough, and our private stamp is never more conspicuous than when we confront a roomful of people. if we show modesty but intense self-respect in our bearing, there is no one who will not raise his personal estimate of us no matter what it was. the head should be well up, the body squarely erect, the chest out. self-consciousness at such a time is a mistake, if natural, and shows the actual littleness which one is trying by an upright bearing to conceal. one should train one's self until the meeting of people, no matter who they may be, whether singly or in large numbers, is a matter of no particular concern as to deportment. never enter a room noisily, nor fail to close a door after you, without slamming. never take another's seat unless you give it up upon his return. dignified postures in sitting are marks of respect to yourself and the company you are with. a gentleman does not sit astride a chair, nor with legs spread out, nor a lady with her legs crossed. never put out your foot, in the street car or elsewhere, or place it where it may trouble others in passing by. when several people enter a room in a private house where you are sitting, always rise, especially if they are older than you. when an elderly person enters the room alone, it is always a graceful show of deference for all younger than he to rise and remain standing until he is seated. the greetings of night and morning are due to all members of one's household, and should not be omitted. the one who enters a room where others are assembled gives the salutation first. "good morning" is the appropriate greeting till noon. "good afternoon" and "good evening" are the greetings for the later hours of the day. "good-by" is, however, the common and most acceptable form of farewell. after an evening's entertainment, it is permissible also to say "good night" instead. "good day," "good afternoon," and "good evening," used in farewell, are provincial. "i beg pardon," spoken with an inquiring inflection, is much better than simply "what?" when you do not hear what is said. the abruptness of the latter savors of rudeness. whispering is not permissible in company, and it is not necessary in private. therefore, whisper not at all, especially not in a sick-room or in church, where the whisper is far more penetrating than a low, distinct tone. the calling up or down stairs is inconsiderate, for you attract the attention of two floors of people, as well as publish your message. to carry on a conversation over the banisters is also equally bad. even a word of inquiry should usually be spoken at short distance in a hall which leads to several rooms, and where many people may hear or be disturbed by the noise. such calling should never be permitted to servants or children, for once begun its convenience will demand its continuance. interrupting another's conversation is a serious breach of courtesy. finding fault is a very disturbing feature of home life, no matter how glaring the faults which may be criticised. faults have to be remedied, but every effort should be made to do it skillfully, and not make the remedy worse than the disease. do not open your letters in company, except in case of emergency, and in the latter, ask the permission of the company to do so. never, under any circumstances, open a private letter addressed to another. if the one to whom it is addressed is near enough to give you permission to open it, he can usually open it himself; if he is not by to give permission, the letter should go to his legal representative, who then acts according to the law. politeness as well as pity impel one to be especially polite to the caller or visitor who is uncongenial, or stupid, or unattractive. by even an excess of hospitality one should try to make up for the inevitable slight which society always puts upon such a one. impartial courtesy is the right of all guests. the close friend and the distant and far less welcome relative are entitled to equal courtesy. the holding of a grudge, and the failing to forgive a slight for which apology has been made, are the height of discourtesy. it is invariably true that the same spirit with which you mete out social slights will be shown you in return. resent each one, whether intentional or a mere oversight, and you will surely crush the spontaneity out of all attentions shown you, and be met only with distrust. when applied to for a favor, if you intend to grant it, grant it graciously and readily; if you intend to refuse, refuse with equal civility even though firmly. none but the unmannerly will urge a request when the slightest token of refusal has been given. a gentleman may offer personal service to a lady, if there is need, tying her shoe, or hooking or buttoning her dress, or doing any other little act which she cannot herself do. in a company of people, it is the height of rudeness to call attention to the form or features or dress of any one present. in using a handkerchief, always do so unobtrusively. at the dining table it should be used very sparingly. better retire than be obnoxious to even the most fastidious. never look over the shoulder of any one who is reading or writing, whether in the home, of in a car, or at a concert, or anywhere else. do not touch any one in order to arrest his attention, but address him. to lend a borrowed article is an appropriation of it which is next to stealing, unless one has permission of the owner to do so. self-control in excitement of any sort is a most valuable trait. it always makes for comfort of one's self and of others, and often for safety. do not pass between two persons who are talking together, if avoidable. if it is not, then apologize. never refuse to receive an apology. courtesy requires, no matter how unforgivable the offense, that an apology should be accepted. friendship may not be restored, but friendly courtesy should always thereafter be maintained. never neglect to perform a commission which a friend intrusted to you. forgetfulness denotes lack of regard for the friend. never fail to be punctual at the time appointed, in keeping every engagement. to make yourself the hero of your own story, or to speak much of your own performances, denotes deep-seated self-conceit, and may be very distasteful to others, who also have achieved. one's social obligations should never be neglected unless one is determined to drop out from one's place entirely. to acknowledge one invitation and not another is surely to be discredited with all. never question a child or a servant upon family matters. fulfill your promises,--or do not promise. deaf persons should be treated with special consideration. act as though they could hear what is being said, yet without laying the burden of reply upon them, and without permitting it to be conspicuous in any way that they may have lost the drift of the talk. it is well to talk both louder and more expressively when they are present, but always more distinctly, and somewhat more slowly. never shout at them, or attract their attention by touching them suddenly. this latter is not polite to any one, but the stronger impulse to do it in case of the deaf must be withstood. it is always better to come within the range of their vision before speaking to them. _table etiquette_ a man should not seat himself at the dinner table until his wife or his hostess is seated. this rule holds good in the home, for if it is not practised there, it will not be observed gracefully in society. seat yourself not too close to nor too far from the table. erect position at table is the first requisite. one should so place one's seat that correct position is possible, and then should keep it. elbows should never be placed upon the table. the hands should be kept quietly in the lap while not busy with the food. one should sit quietly at the table, without handling the cutlery or making useless motions, while waiting to be served. if there is some form of grace said, or some simple ceremony preliminary to the meal, one should pay respectful attention silently. do not seem impatient to be served. the meal is a social occasion and the food is an adjunct to friendly intercourse. the success of the meal depends equally perhaps upon the food and the conversation. because of the interruptions of service, conversation cannot be long continued, or deeply thoughtful. it must be on subjects of no great moment nor grave interest, or on such subjects lightly touched; but it should be on bright, cheerful topics, and as witty as the talent of the company affords. eating should be slow, and mastication of the food thorough, for reasons of health as well as for the sake of appearance. no meal can be eaten properly and adequately in less than thirty minutes, but more than an hour for a meal is sheer waste of both time and food, unless the company is large, the times of waiting between courses long, and the portions served very small. eat silently. the noise of food being masticated is very distressing, and except in cases of crusts and crisp vegetables, perfectly unnecessary. the napkin is unfolded and spread over the lap. one is supposed to be skillful enough in raising food to the lips not to need the napkin in front of the dress or coat to prevent injury. in case you do not care for a course, you should not refuse it. receive it, and take what part of it you desire, trying to take some; or, if you wish, leave it untouched, but do not have the appearance of being neglected or ill-provided for, even if you do not eat of it. a little more attention to conversation on your part may make unnoticeable to those about you the fact that you do not eat of a certain course. if your preference is consulted as to food, whether the matter be trivial to you or not, express some preference so that the one who is serving, and who has asked to be guided, may be so far assisted. never place food or waste matter upon the tablecloth. an exception to this may be made in regard to hard breads and celery, when individual dishes for these are not furnished. always use the side of some one of the dishes about you for chips and scraps. the fork is used in general except with semi-liquid sauces, where a spoon is of necessity used. it is not permissible to eat peas with a spoon. the mouth should be closed while it contains food. it should not be too full, as it is often necessary to reply to some question when there is food in the mouth. do not leave the table until you have quite ceased chewing. be dainty and skillful in using your napkin and cutlery, avoiding soiling the tablecloth. discussions and unpleasant topics of conversation should never be introduced. one should regard not only one's own aversions but those of the others present. never put your finger in your mouth at table, nor pick your teeth. tidiness of personal appearance is never at a higher premium than at the dining table. soiled hands, negligee dress, shirt sleeves, and disheveled hair are disgusting there. it is quite proper to take the last helping of any dish which may be passed you. to refrain looks as if you doubted the supply. bread is not cut, but broken into fairly small pieces. one should never nibble from a large piece. it is permissible to eat crackers, olives, celery, radishes, salted nuts, crystallized fruits, corn on the cob, bonbons, and most raw fruits from the fingers. apples, pears, and peaches are quartered, peeled, and then cut into small pieces. cherries, plums, and grapes are eaten one by one, the stones being removed with the fingers and laid upon the plate. cheese may be laid in small pieces on bread or crackers, and conveyed to the mouth in that way. asparagus should be eaten with the fork, the part which is not readily broken off by it being left. at a formal meal a second helping of a dish is never offered, and should never be asked for; but at an informal dinner party it is not out of place to accept a second helping, if one is offered, but is complimentary to the hostess, who is responsible for the cook. in passing the plate for a second helping, the knife and fork should be laid across it full length,--not held in the hand until the plate returns. one may ask the waiter for a second or third glass of water, as even at a formal dinner that is always permissible. lettuce, cress, and chicory are never cut with a knife, but rolled up on the fork and so conveyed to the mouth. never leave the spoon in any cup while drinking from it. liquid bouillon,--not jellied,--should be drunk from the bouillon cup. spoons are used for grape fruit and oranges, when cut in halves and put upon a plate, for soft-boiled eggs, puddings, custards, and gelatins. with fruit, finger-bowls should always be passed. a bowl half-full of water is placed upon a plate covered with a doily. unless the fruit is passed upon a second plate, the bowl and doily are removed from this and set at one side, the fruit being eaten from this plate. the fingers are then dipped, one hand at a time, into the water, and wiped upon the napkin. salt should never be put upon the tablecloth, but always on the side of the plate, unless the individual salts are provided. never spit out a prune, peach, or cherry stone. never hold food on the fork while you are talking, ready as soon as you reach a period to be put into your mouth. having once picked it up, eat it promptly. a bit of bread, but nothing else, may be used, if necessary, to help one put food upon the fork. if one tastes of something which one does not care to swallow, it may be removed from the mouth with the closed left hand and placed on the plate. this should be done silently and with as little attention as possible. never take a chicken or chop bone in the fingers. cut the meat from the bone, leaving all that does not readily separate. bread and butter plates, with the butter spreader, are always used, except at formal dinners, when the dinner-roll is laid in the fold of the napkin. the knife is used only for cutting, and for spreading butter on bread in the absence of butter spreaders. almost all foods are eaten with the fork, which should always be used in the right hand with the tines up. it may be held in the left hand, tines down, when one is cutting, the knife being in the right hand. the soup spoon is an almost circular and quite deep spoon. therefore it is obvious that the soup should be noiselessly sipped from the side of it. when the oval dessert spoon is used for soup, it is especially necessary to sip the liquid from the side. special spoon-shaped forks are provided for salads, ices, and creams, but for these spoons may always be substituted. no hot drink should be poured from the cup into the saucer to cool it. toothpicks should not be passed at the table. they may be left on the sideboard, and if one is needed, it may be requested of the waiter or taken as you leave the room, but always used in private. wherein elderly people do differently from the established ways of to-day, they are not to be criticised. manners change even several times within a generation, and such may be simply following the customs they were taught. when the three-tined fork was the only one in common use, the blade of the knife was much more in requisition than now. on leaving the table the dishes of the last course should be left exactly as used, and the napkin left unfolded by the side of the plate. in case one is at home, or visiting a friend, and the napkins usually serve for two or three meals, then neatly fold it. many families have clean napkins once a day, that is, at dinner. the chair should either be pushed quite back from the table, or close to it, so that others may easily pass by. if obliged to leave the table in the midst of a meal, one should address the hostess, saying, "please excuse me," as he rises. _anniversaries_ the observance of family festivals is a great bond of union when there are different ages and temperaments and interests represented in the family circle. in the home holidays, all meet on a common ground, and get once more into touch with each other. yet the observance of such festivals should never be more elaborate than the purse will justify, nor should it be allowed to become a burden upon any one, even the most willing. the festive spirit is lost if it becomes obligatory. the observance of wedding anniversaries is usually an honored custom in the case of happy marriages, where children grow up who take delight in making much of the days which are sacred to their parents. where this observance is not a matter of form or done with any ulterior motive, but is spontaneous and joyous, it adds much to the family happiness and strengthens the bonds, not only between parents but between parents and children. it is customary to make gifts of the sort signified in the name of the anniversary, and much ingenuity can be exercised in carrying out the idea. the anniversaries are named as follows: at the end of the first year comes a cotton wedding; at the end of the second, a paper wedding; the third, a linen wedding; the fifth, a wooden; the tenth, a tin wedding; the fifteenth, a crystal; the twentieth, linen; the twenty-fifth, silver; the thirtieth, pearl; fortieth, ruby; fiftieth, a golden wedding; and the sixtieth, a diamond wedding. these anniversaries may be added to, as by celebrating a leather wedding the third year, instead of two of linen; a woolen one the seventh; and a china one the twelfth. a birthday anniversary is a momentous event in the life of a child. disregard of it is a heart-breaking slight. the celebrations of these events, even in families where they are numerous and resources few, can be made joyous if there is love enough to do it, even without money. _the giving of presents_ the members of a family who have each other's welfare at heart, often have the impulse to give each other something which they may know is needed or wanted. while this impulse should be cultivated even with the most limited means, and the sense of generosity preserved even among the poorest,--where, to be frank, it is more apt to be found than among the rich,--there should be no counting upon such presents, nor obligation to make them imposed. this destroys their value as expressions of affection, and makes the custom harmful. for that reason it is not well to adhere to times and seasons, but at any time when the right opportunity offers and the impulse moves, give the gift that one desires to give. where such an impulse is characteristic of a family, the members will naturally take pride in expressing in that way their appreciation of individual achievement, as when a member graduates from a high school or college, or attains his majority, or makes some special advance in any way. the spirit which welcomes achievement and recognizes it, becomes an incentive, perhaps the strongest there is, and surely the most noble, that of satisfying and pleasing a loved one. life holds too much of defeat for the average person, for its minor victories to be passed over in silence and indifference. _intimate friends_ one's attitude toward intimate friends is either a pleasant memory or a sad revelation. if one holds them a little lower than one's family, and expends upon them effort to charm second only to the effort habitually given to those whom one loves, then intimacy becomes a privilege, no matter what the circumstances, and a lifelong gratification and pleasure. if, however, one considers that intimate friends are entitled to less courtesy than the public, and are to be made to serve one's purpose more effectually than mere acquaintances do, then the burden of friendship is great, and soon dropped. affection is not mercenary. one word in regard to the single monopolizing friendship. many a marriage has been wrecked, and many a mother's friendship turned away, because some one friend, of about one's own age and tastes, of pronounced influence and exorbitant demands, has usurped, at first perhaps unconsciously but ever surely, the place in one's life, and at last in one's heart, that some member of the family should have taken. some people seem naturally predisposed to this sort of friendship, and as soon as the intellectual zest is gone from absorbing companionship with one person, they turn to another. one such instance showed through twenty years a series of such friendships on the part of a well-meaning but foolish woman, in which her husband figured briefly, passing on and off the stage as violently as, and even more speedily than, the other "friends." too great familiarity with new acquaintances is impolite as well as unwise. it cannot fail of seeming forced, and even if the friendship is to be close and permanent, a hastily-laid foundation is never the most secure. one should never call a friend by his christian name until he requests one to do so. _illness in the home_ illness means that the order of the home life must be seriously disturbed. consideration for the one who is ill, and effort to alleviate the suffering, should take the place of every other thought and ambition. it is necessary, of course, that the routine of living should be sufficiently preserved for the health of the others not to be affected, but matters of comfort and well-being for all take precedence of everything else. the well should make all wise sacrifices for the sake of the ill, such as being quiet about the house; never complaining at late or simple meals; setting aside personal plans and comfort in order to assist, if needed, in the care of the ill; looking out for the relief and comfort of the nurse, upon whom the major part of the responsibility rests; never grudging time or money in the effort to restore health; and, above all, making these sacrifices in the spirit of love and not in that of martyrdom. many people, who make even unreasonable sacrifices for others in times of emergency, do it so ungraciously, that one does not feel that they are entitled to the thanks which they still actually deserve and should receive. courtesy demands that the claims of the nurse and doctor be settled promptly and generously. they were prompt in meeting the emergency. there should be no delay in acknowledging the obligation to them, even though their promptness is looked upon, by them and by society, as part of their professional duty. the convalescent takes such abnormally keen delight in being remembered, that it is obligatory upon the rest of his family and his friends not to forget him. kindly messages should be frequent. trifling gifts frequently are better than large gifts occasionally, unless the large gift is something greatly desired. one should never fail to offer the easiest and best seat in the room to an invalid, an elderly person, or a lady. _courtesy to servants_ it is safe to predict that, if the acumen of the business man, and the courtesy of the social leader and woman of true refinement were brought to bear upon the servant problem, that would soon assume a different aspect. if the consideration that would be shown an ailing guest were shown an ailing servant, service would be more generously and more faithfully rendered. the waitress at the table is entitled to courtesy, but not to apologetic efforts to diminish her task. appreciation may be shown in a "thank you," or, "if you please," but such notice of her should be unobtrusively spoken, so as not to interfere with the general conversation about the table. the servant has every human right to civility, and the withholding of wages is no more culpable, if more illegal, than is the withholding of civil treatment, and the infliction of the indignity of impatience and harsh and unmerited reproof. all servants need careful training. neatness is the first requisite. the lack of it most seriously reflects upon the management of the household. servants should be trained to answer the door-bell promptly, reply civilly to questions, and in all things represent their master and mistress in a dignified and courteous way. they should not admit one person who calls socially, and deny another, unless under special and exceptional orders. they should not fail to deliver promptly all notes, messages, and cards which may be received. verbal messages should be received and given with accuracy. the direct neglect of orders is unpardonable in an intelligent servant who has been well trained, and will not occur, even in the absence of the mistress, if the training has been explicit and complete and the servant is honorable,--as he should be in order to retain any position. a certain degree of initiative, too, should be cultivated in a servant who is given responsibility, so that he may meet an emergency with resourcefulness, in the absence of orders or specific instructions. the servant needs to respect his master and mistress. the firm, strong, honest, and just control is respected by servants, and is much preferred to the irresolute one, even when the latter overflows frequently in lax kindness. each man needs to be made to do his duty, and the power that forces him to do it should be gracious but must be firm. to be familiar with servants is a fatal mistake, and eventually upsets and destroys all discipline. servants should never be reproved in the presence of guests, or members of the family, or other servants, but should be talked with singly, and considerately, but plainly. chapter iv conversation and correspondence _the art of conversation_ conversation is a game we all play, but most of us with ill success. we do not take pains to learn the rules, and we do not consider the honor of winning sufficiently great. it is, however, an accomplishment that all who will may possess, that consumes a great deal of the time of all of us, and that yields great pleasure and profit if skillfully used. the subject of conversation should be pertinent, and of interest to all, or at least the majority, of those in the group of talkers. the treasures of experience and of knowledge should be grouped about the topic, and every one who contributes should take care to proffer nothing that the conversation has not logically called forth. then the pleasure and the success of the time thus spent is measured only by the wit and mental resources of the talkers. news which has a universal interest is always a legitimate subject of discussion. personal news which has only the interest of gossip or scandal is never permitted among cultured people, no more than are physiological facts or the records of criminology. it is a safe rule to speak of things rather than of persons. the brilliant conversationalist never monopolizes the talk, as such a method would prevent his most telling points or his keenest wit from having dramatic expression. if he tells an anecdote which holds the attention of the table or of the circle of listeners, he permits his duller neighbor to tell the next, not only that his own wit may have a foil, but that his next anecdote may meet the sharp edge of whetted appetites. if dining out or being entertained, do not play the host or hostess by leading the conversation, even though your talent in that direction be far superior to theirs. you thereby do them an injustice which is exceedingly discourteous on the part of one who has accepted of hospitality. never interrupt. it kills the expression of any thought to interrupt the speaker, and every person, no matter how badly he may express himself, has a right to the effort and to what he can win of the hearer's attention. to supply a word which seems to fail the speaker is perhaps a friendly service, if he be a foreigner, but should never be tendered to a countryman, nor often to even the most grateful wrestler with the english language. it confuses any one, and the only polite way is to wait quietly until the speaker collects himself and finds his words. do not contend any point. among intelligent people questions may be pleasantly and earnestly debated, arguments weighed and tested, and yet the conversation be absolutely courteous, although conviction be deep on both sides. the impossibility, among untrained people, of debate without great emotion is what retards the progress of the intellectual life in many circles. one should never answer questions in general company that have been put to another. one should not note the points of discrepancy in the remarks of another, or the points of divergence in opinion. in society the subjects of conversation are subordinated to the human interest of the gathering, and points of harmony and agreement should be emphasized, leaving all others unnoted. one does not need to conceal his opinions, but he should not arrogantly or dogmatically publish them. not opinions but individuals are of greater interest at that time, and the battle of ideas should be fought in another arena. this is the only safe rule to follow in mixed companies, or with people imperfectly trained socially. with highly intelligent people of congenial tastes, people who have ideas and convictions of great worth, and who are controlled enough to express them without undue or foolish emotion, the battle of ideas is fought most effectively and most to the benefit of society, in the drawing-room of that host and hostess whose own talents make them able to draw talent about them. here all the rules of polite society may be observed, and yet the inner convictions, whether political, religious, or moral, of the circle, may find welcome expression and fair hearing. the growth of ideas and the progress of ideals in such a society is rapid and along the right lines. never try to have the last word, but always refrain from saying it. do not enter into tête-à-tête conversation in the presence of others, or refer to any topic of conversation which is not of common interest and commonly known. mysterious allusions or assumed understandings with one or two members of a group are insults to the others. inquiries into private affairs should never be made, but those on the subjects of age and income are especially obnoxious, and merit for the inquirer the cool silence which they usually obtain. the loud-voiced, aggressive person, whose opinions are alone of vital moment in his estimation, and who will not yield a point in an argument, is much to be dreaded in any company, and effectually brings to an end any general conversation into which he intrudes. when addressing people face to face, it is necessary to give them their social or professional titles, if the latter be such as have influence on social rank, no matter if such titles are not inscribed on the visiting card of the person possessing them, or are purely honorary. it is not now customary to add "madam," or "sir," or the colloquial equivalent of the former,--"m'am" or "m'm,"--to "yes" and "no," even by children. _correspondence_ letter writing is a high art, and can give great pleasure to one's friends. it must not, however, be intemperately indulged in, either in frequency, length of letters, or freedom of expression. a timely note is a great binder of friendship, and may give comfort and satisfaction much greater than a longer letter at a less important moment. the danger of letter writing is that one is tempted to pour out one's inmost feelings with thoughtless abandon, and find later that the relative or friend to whom the letter was addressed was unworthy of the confidence, or, if not unworthy, was repelled by it, or indiscreet in guarding it. it is always wise for one to restrain his expression of himself, when writing or speaking, within the bounds of dignity and a self-respecting reserve. the classic letters of literature are usually those the fervor of expression and self-revelation of which gave them a strong human interest, but in the preservation and publication of which sacred confidence was violated. the average letter of the average man or woman is by no means a classic, or worthy of preservation. it should be destroyed when it has fulfilled the immediate purpose for which it was written. it may otherwise sometime be instrumental in bringing ridicule, if not shame, upon the unsuspecting writer. as letter writing is the most common form of composition, the general rules pertaining to that art should be observed in even the most informal of letters. all letters should be concise and definite. an involved style is a great waste of time and mental power, and has no advantage. a letter should be written on consecutive pages, unless it be very short, in which case it is preferable to use the first and third, rather than only the first and second, pages. it should never be written so that the sheet has to be turned around and the pages read at different angles. the turning over of the pages should be all that is necessary. if, however, social note paper is used for a short business letter to a business man, open the sheet out flat, turn it so that the left side becomes the top of the sheet, and use as you would a single large sheet of commercial paper. this enables the reader to see the whole matter at a glance. do not scrawl your letter over the page; but do not, on the other hand, appear to economize in paper. make the place and date lines clear and distinct. set off the salutation from the body of the letter, and make the form of the letter upon the page artistic and concise. paper is cheap, and the delight of receiving a letter well framed in even margins and written on regular, if invisible, lines is a pleasure easily afforded a friend. the letter should be begun about two inches down from the upper edge of the paper. the left-hand margin should be three-quarters of an inch, with paragraph indention an inch more. the lower margin also should be three-quarters of an inch, and the right margin should be kept even and, for best effect, almost as wide as the left margin. do not run on the letter without paragraphing it, but place each subject in a paragraph by itself. a business letter should always go straight to the point. a note of apology should be direct, and say but the one thing which is its subject. a note asking a favor should do it simply and without unnecessary preamble. the sense of freedom or intimacy which permits one to ask a favor, should be great enough to obviate the necessity of long explanation, which seems like coaxing. the refusal of a request requires tact, and may necessitate less directness than courteous explanation: but it should not be so extended as to be apologetic. a letter of thanks is difficult, but too great effusiveness is as disgusting as too great abruptness is unsatisfactory. the elusive but happy medium is the work of the socially well-trained. _paper_ the grade of paper used is a matter of no small moment. some people affect a fastidiousness in color and quality quite out of keeping with the purpose to which the paper is to be put. others affect an opposite slovenliness, which shows equal disregard of use and effectiveness. a good quality of paper is essential to elegance. plain white or cream white paper, unlined, with either rough or smooth finish, is always correct, and is the only kind for formal social correspondence. for more intimate letters ladies sometimes use a pale blue, delicate pearl-gray, light lavender or heliotrope, or a colonial buff. there has lately been imported the style of an envelope with lining of another color and paper to match, in a variety of bright tints and striking designs. these styles, even in the daintier variations of them, appeal only to the younger members of the "smart set." gentlemen never use any but white stationery. correspondence cards are a great convenience for the very shortest of messages, where even the small note paper is too large. they are to social letter writing what the postal is in business. they, like the postal, should be used only for brief messages of no special importance, or for notifications. it is a matter of taste and of expense to have one's monogram or home address engraved at the top of choice note paper or letter paper. this may be in gilt, silver, or colors. the more common forms of heading are centered an inch below the top of the paper, but may be placed somewhat lower down, and to the right, leaving about three-quarters of an inch margin. in this case the date line follows. engraved and embossed headings are the most elegant, and printed ones should be used only for business purposes. there can, however, be no objection to a very neatly printed small heading for personal business correspondence, if it is tastefully done in a quiet color. while it would not be acceptable for formal social correspondence, it does very well on more intimate letters and saves the necessity of writing each time the home address. it is best to use printed letterheads, rather than commit the blunder now so common, among those who do not habitually use engraved paper, of omitting the address from the letter. this, in case the letter is misdirected, and travels to the dead-letter office, prevents effectually its restoration to the writer. the size of note paper suited to the letter to be written should be used. do not start with a small note size, and run on over several sheets. the letter size should have been taken in the first place, as the note is only for such messages as are essentially short. the forms of heading which are permissible at the top of the personal letter paper are the following: a crest, monogram, or the separate initials; the name of the home if, as an estate, it has a special title; the name of the city and state; or the street address, with the name of the city and state beneath. when in mourning, it is customary to use a note paper and envelopes surrounded with a narrow black border. the border should not exceed three-eighths of an inch in width, and three-sixteenths of an inch during the period of half mourning. sometimes only a black line with the monogram is used. scented note paper is not in good taste, except perhaps that which has a very faint odor of violets or of orris root, or, in the southland, of orange blossoms. _ink_ colored inks are not liked or approved of by society. a good blue-black ink is the best for all writing. pale inks, too faint to be easily seen, and too lacking in stock to last any length of time, are useless. _handwriting_ illegibility in handwriting, or a stilted and difficult hand, is a great waste of time and energy, mainly the would-be reader's. there is no excuse, in these days of the typewriter and of common knowledge of stenography, for an illegible letter or manuscript, and the carelessness which writes too hurriedly to form the letters is excusable only in the gravest emergency and between intimate friends, where the inconvenience caused by it will be, for personal reasons, gladly forgiven. some handwritings which are thoroughly legible are extremely tiring to the reader, and the simpler, less ornate hand is for every purpose preferable. the affectation of a handwriting which enables you to put but few words on a page, is absurd and vulgar in the extreme. yet, on the other hand, a too delicate or minute hand is not desirable. legibility, neatness, and clearness are the salient virtues of a letter. the use of the typewriter is confined to business. it is still very bad form to use it for personal letters; but should elegant script and small, clear forms of type, such as are furnished by one or two of the machines now on the market, be in common use, there is little doubt but what the speed of service and the advantages of clearness would bring the typewriter into use in intimate, and perhaps at last into more formal, social correspondence. the tendency seems to lie in that direction. _sealing, stamping, and directing envelopes_ neatness is especially necessary in the folding of letters, and in addressing, stamping, and sealing the envelopes. haste and slovenliness here take away the suggestion of compliment in the courtesy of the note, and are as insulting as any rudeness of manner can well be. the fastidious and leisurely still seal their envelopes with wax, imprinting thus their monogram. the well-gummed envelope now in vogue makes this superfluous for the ordinary informal letter. addresses should be written with an eye to legibility, and the stamp should be affixed to the upper right-hand corner of the envelope with care and neatness. social invitations, although engraved and therefore containing no handwriting, should always be sent with letter postage. letters should be plainly and completely addressed to insure their safe and prompt delivery. persons who have a large business correspondence should use for it envelopes on which their name and post office address are printed in the upper left-hand corner. in social correspondence these should be clearly written or engraved upon the back of the envelope. sometimes where a business firm is small or little known, it facilitates the delivery of a business letter to place the number of the office room in a building upon the envelope. where, however, the firm is so large that probably the entire mail is carried from the post office in bags, or where a post office box is doubtless made use of instead of the carriers' delivery, even the street number is superfluous. letters for departments should be so marked. if the city is one of the largest in the country, the name of the state is not added; as, new york city, boston, chicago, and philadelphia would stand alone. only a business letter should have the word "city" in place of the name of the city, and it is better to write the name, omitting, if you choose, the state. this is permissible only when the central post office is used, as the postmark of any suburban station might cause confusion, and railway post office clerks, especially, should not be expected to guess accurately the intents of a writer. when street addresses like "broadway," "park row," "aborn drive," are written, it is superfluous to write "st." after them. the older form of writing an address was to end each line with a comma. the more recent style, and one coming into quite common use, is to omit the comma, using only such punctuation as the sense of the words within the line demands. either way is permissible. uniformity and concise clearness are characteristics of a well-written address. an address should be written as follows: mr. frankel banchman, westland avenue, philadelphia, pa. if the directions are to be included, then the following arrangement is better: mrs. arthur l. casson, north maplewood, chestnut county, care of mr. hiram casson. n. y. the sign of per cent is no longer used to signify "care of." a clergyman is addressed "the reverend john l. wrigley, d. d.," or, less correctly, "rev. john l. wrigley, d. d.," which may be transposed to "rev. dr. john l. wrigley." the omission of the article before the word "reverend" is quite common. a physician is properly addressed, "algernon brigham, m. d.," and the salutation is "dear dr. brigham," or "dear doctor," if he is an intimate friend. a man having the title of doctor with any other significance than that of doctor of medicine, is usually addressed "dr. frederic v. harlan." a very formal way, however, would be to address such a one,--supposing each of the titles to be his,--as "professor frederic v. harlan, ph. d." for the letter, the salutations "dear professor harlan" and "dear dr. harlan" are equally correct. a letter to the president of the united states should be addressed simply with that title and with no further specification of name, whether it be official or social: as, "to the president of the united states, executive mansion, washington, d. c." the salutation should be simply "sir." the conclusion should be, "i have the honor to remain your obedient servant." if a social letter it may be addressed either formally or "to the president of the united states, (christian name and surname), executive mansion," etc. the salutation would then be "my dear mr. president." the vice president should be addressed officially in the same form; that is, "to the vice president, hon. chester a. arthur." he should be saluted, officially, "mr. vice president, sir;" socially, "my dear mr. arthur." in addressing the governor of a state the superscription should be, "to his excellency, the governor of massachusetts, state house, boston." the salutation should be "sir," if official, but "dear governor barnard," if social. the conclusion of an official letter should read, "i have the honor to be, sir, your excellency's most obedient servant." the mayor of a city is addressed, "to his honor, the mayor of chicago." within, he is saluted officially as "your honor," socially as "my dear mayor sewall." ambassadors of any country, whatever their personal distinction, may be given the title of "honorable," and their rank placed after the surname. as, "honorable whitelaw reid, ambassador to the court of st. james." they may always be addressed as "your excellency." the members of the cabinet of the president of the united states are always addressed as "honorable," and the name of their department, or their title added: as, "the honorable, the secretary of state." to give the name would be superfluous, as in the case of the president. on formal invitations, however, when the secretary and his wife are entertaining, the form is, "the secretary of state and mrs. hay request the honor," etc. invitations which come to one because of his official position are not intended for personal compliments, hence are addressed to the office, not to the man personally. an invitation from the president of the united states is equal to a command, and may not be declined. other engagements must be broken for it, and only grave calamity or illness should excuse one, the excuse being frankly stated instead of mere formal expressions of regret. in ceremonious notes abbreviations should never be used. should one address the ruler of england, the superscription would be, "his majesty, the king, london." the salutation would be, "sir;" the conclusion, "i have the honor to be, sir, your majesty's most obedient servant." "his grace the duke of fife" is the form of address for a duke; "my lord duke" being the salutation, and "your grace's most obedient servant" the subscription. in writing to the pope of the roman catholic church, one should address the letter to "his holiness, pope ----, rome." the salutation should be "your holiness," but the conclusion remains the same form as for other dignitaries. a cardinal of the same church is addressed "to his eminence (christian name) cardinal (surname)," and greeted as "your eminence." formality should be strictly observed. an archbishop of the church of england is addressed, "the most reverend (name) his grace the lord archbishop of (name of bishopric)." the salutation is "my lord archbishop;" the subscription, "i have the honor to be, with the highest respect, your grace's most humble servant." a bishop is addressed "the right reverend the lord bishop of (name of diocese)." he is saluted "my lord bishop." in the united states the bishops of the protestant episcopal church, who are not here lords, are addressed, singly, as "the right reverend (christian name and surname). d. d.," or "the right reverend bishop of (name of diocese)." they are saluted, singly, "most reverend sir." the word "to" may precede a formal or ceremonious address, adding to the formality. an envelope containing a letter or card of introduction should never be sealed, if presented in person by the party introduced. if, however, he should deliver it by messenger,--an exceptional procedure, and one not to be followed by a man except in unusual circumstances,--the envelope may be sealed. no letter sent through the kindness of a friend should ever be sealed. the envelope should bear, in the lower left-hand corner, the acknowledgment of the favor in words like "kindness of miss hallowell." _salutation, conclusion, and signature of letters_ a stranger should be saluted as follows: "mr. eugene motley, my dear sir;" "mrs. alonzo parmenter, dear madam;" or "eugene motley, esq., my dear sir." these are forms slightly more formal than "my dear mr. motley," or "my dear mrs. parmenter," which in america are strangely considered more formal than "dear mr. motley," or "dear mrs. parmenter," although in england the reverse is true. therefore, a mere acquaintance is addressed "my dear mrs. judson," while a friend is addressed "dear mr. clark." a married woman signs her name, as "ethel husted," and then puts her formal name, "mrs. hollis husted," in brackets a little to the left of and a little below the other. never sign a title. the name only is your signature. it may be necessary to write the title in brackets and at the left, as "(miss)" or "(mrs.)," but it should never be part of the signature. such notes as demand the use of the title are put in the third person. the date should be at the end of a social note, in the lower left-hand corner, and should be written out, with the name of the year omitted and no figures used. the grammatical form is "the ninth of december," never "december the ninth," nor "december ninth." in business letters the salutation for a firm name is "dear sir," or "gentlemen." where two married women go into business together, there seems to be in english no combined title to take the place of the french, so that is generally used, and that is "mesdames," abbreviated "mmes." before their names. the formal conclusions of letters are: "respectfully yours," used to a superior; "sincerely yours," or "truly yours," used largely in business, or the same forms with the adverb "very" preceding them. less formal terms are: "cordially yours," "fraternally yours," or the pronoun with any appropriate adverb which the originality of the writer may suggest. less abrupt, but not less formal, endings are: "with best regards, i am," etc.; "with kindest regards, i remain," etc.; "believe me very sincerely yours." for intimate letters either to relatives or friends no specified suggestions are needed. the ordinary form, "your affectionate daughter," or "niece," etc., may, however, be employed, in dearth of special inspiration. distinction is sometimes made between business and social letters by the position of "yours,"--it being placed before the adverb in social correspondence, and after in business. the tone of the letter may be left to guide in this matter. there is an abruptness always somewhat unpleasant in the use of the adverb alone. make the beginning and ending of a letter the same in degree of cordiality. do not begin formally "my dear madam," and end "cordially yours." every letter should be signed with the full name of the writer. a possible exception might be made of those addressed to members of one's own family, where the use of the christian name only would mean no ambiguity, or where the signing of the surname gives a touch of formality. it is well, however, to remember that letters placed in the post take the chances of fortune, and, with the plainest of addresses, may, by the absence of the person or for some other cause, bring up in the dead-letter office. their resurrection there will depend upon their containing the full name of the sender as well as his address. if a letter is valuable enough to send, it is valuable enough to sign, even if the signature be double,--first the familiar or given name, and then, in the lower left-hand corner, the full name. it is well to use always the name which is your legal signature. this will prevent confusion, and forestall the possibility of your putting, from force of habit, the wrong form of your name upon a legal document. it is well to write one's name in full. three complete names are none too many for individual distinction in so crowded a world as is ours. if, however, the middle one is represented by an initial only, always write it uniformly. it is better, if the form with initial only has not become really established, to use the full name, although it may be long. the form of one's signature and the style of the handwriting soon become habitual. therefore, every effort should be made to make and keep it legible. an illegible signature is unpardonable,--save perhaps on a page at the top of which a printed or engraved letterhead gives the name in full. there is, however, the danger that the writer of the illegible signature will sometime sign his name on a legal document, or a sheet not bearing his letterhead, and the signature stand for nothing. _letters of introduction_ a letter of introduction should never be requested. if it is offered it is a sign of great regard. if it is greatly desired, it might be well to acquaint the person, in whose power it is to offer it, with the circumstances and interests which make it desirable, but never to do more than this. the advisability of giving letters of introduction depends upon the circumstances. between business acquaintances and for business purposes, it is a common form of establishing connection among various interests, and, if done with discrimination, is to be approved. it should, however, even in business be done sparingly, as it is a matter of personal friendship, usually, and as no one has a right to make numerous or exacting demands upon one's friends. socially it is a matter of great delicacy, and should have even more restrictions put upon it than does the introduction in company. for the written introduction is used because distance prevents the personal one, and that usually throws the recipient of such a letter into the position of host to the traveler or newcomer, or at least of benefactor to some degree. it places upon him an obligation not involved in the verbal introduction, and the presumption is that he is to do some favor, or show some special attention. letters of introduction may be explanatory or brief. brevity is preferable, but circumstances must determine. a visiting card is often used with the words "introducing mr. allan golding to mr. morris," or similar form, written across the top. the card should be enclosed in a small envelope and left unsealed. a brief form of letter simply says: "permit me to introduce to your favorable notice mr. silas emerson." a more explicit form would be a letter the body of which would resemble the following: "the bearer, mr. mark w. allen, who is an old friend and neighbor of mine, represents the altmann irrigation company, and is desirous of obtaining information in regard to the system of waterways lately put into your county. knowing your influential position in regard to all matters of public interest, i have sent him to you in the hope that you may be able to put him in touch with the people who will give him the desired information. any favor that you may do mr. allen, or any courtesy that you may extend to him, will be deeply appreciated by me." a purely social letter of introduction would say in substance: "mrs. arthur l. westmore, who presents this letter to you, is an intimate and cherished friend of mine, and one whom i know you would desire to meet. she is to spend some little time in your city, and any courtesy that you may do her i shall deeply appreciate. i have told her of our friendship, and she knows how highly i value you, and is eager to meet you." when a letter of introduction is given, it is well to write the receiver concerning the friend who will present it, that he may not be taken unawares, nor continue long ignorant of the claims of that friend upon him. a gentleman usually presents such a letter by calling in person and sending in the letter, together with one of his personal cards, by the servant who answers the bell, or by the office boy. a lady usually mails the letter and one of her cards giving her address. she should receive an acknowledgment with a call or offer of hospitality within a day or two. a person who makes use of a letter of introduction should acknowledge to the giver the courtesy he has received, with due gratitude. _letters of recommendation_ letters of recommendation should be sparingly given. it is becoming less and less important, in the minds of experienced employers, to demand references. the personality of the applicant counts, and the varying traits which different positions cultivate make the experiences of the past of but little guidance, save in a broad and general way. the giving of recommendations at random, "to whom it may concern," is also less done than formerly, as there is such uncertainty in regard to their use. instead of this, the servant is told that she may use the former mistress's name as reference. the new, would-be employer then writes a note of inquiry to the former employer. in replying to such a note great conscientiousness should be shown. full justice should be done the servant. only the truth should be told, and as much of it as a generous heart and wise conscience, coupled with a sense of responsibility toward the inquirer, permit. these letters should be brief and not effusive on any point, nor evasive of the issue at stake. never write to another, asking for information, or a favor of any kind, without enclosing a stamped and addressed envelope for reply. _third-person letters_ letters are written in the third person in answer to formal invitations so worded, and in correspondence between people but slightly acquainted or known to each other only by reputation, persons not social equals, and by tradespeople and their patrons. great care should be taken to preserve the impersonal diction throughout the letter, and to refrain from signing it. the tone should always be formal and very polite. an order may take the form of a request, as "will mr. sutherland please . . . and oblige," with the signature of the writer. _informal invitations and announcements_ in inviting a friend to visit you, it is customary to mention the length of the visit, setting a definite date for it and limit to it. this makes it possible for both hostess and guest to arrange other engagements. a time-table of the trains, if the guest comes from the distance, with an account of the trolley lines, if from near at hand, should be enclosed. the engagement of a daughter may be announced by informal notes to one's whole circle of friends and acquaintances. the following form of note may serve as a suggestion: "i am sure that you will join our household in sympathy with eleanor in her happiness when i tell you that she has just announced her engagement to mr. harold farnham, a man of whom her father and i thoroughly approve. the wedding will not take place for some months, but felicitations are in order." _letters of condolence_ a letter of condolence should be short and quite sincere, or else the courteous custom of sending it is more honored in the breach than in the observance. such letters should be sent very promptly. to expatiate to any extent whatever upon the bereavement is heartless or thoughtless, and as there is no danger of ambiguity, the letter does not need to account for itself in any way. the following letter is as explicit as any letter of condolence need ever be, and the second form is preferable, unless great intimacy makes the less abrupt one permissible. "dear mr. legrow: i have read of your bereavement with the deepest sorrow. i cannot tell you how fully i sympathize with you and your children, or how my heart aches for you in your loneliness. may you have strength and grace to bear up under the great loss you have sustained. sincerely yours, margaret edelstone." "dear mrs. hilcox: you have my deepest sympathy. ever cordially yours, mildred hasseltine." _answering letters_ business letters should be answered by return mail, as should also all invitations to dinner or luncheon. all invitations should be answered within a day if possible, because delay looks like a reluctance to accept. they should certainly be answered, either personally or by letter, within a week after the invitation is received. friendly letters should have such promptness of response as circumstances and the intimacy of the friendship demand. notes of congratulation and felicitation should be sent promptly after receiving the card or note announcement of an engagement or a birth, and in the latter case at least, should be followed by a call. a personal visiting card, with the words "thank you for sympathy" written over the name, is sufficient acknowledgment of letters of condolence. to very intimate friends, however, the spontaneous note of thanks would be more courteous. as it is almost impossible, at such a time, to attend to matters of social intercourse, the sending of the card is always permissible, and can occasion no offense, even if the more intimate acknowledgment was hoped for. chapter v casual meetings and calls _greetings and recognitions_ the bow and the handshake are the accepted forms of greeting in the united states to-day. the bow varies from a very slight inclination of the head, as one gentleman passes another, or from the quick touching of the hat with the hand, in a sort of reminiscence of the military salute, to the various degrees of elaborate bow which savors of european ceremonial courtesy. the usual form is a bending of the head and shoulders, with the eyes kept on those of the person greeted, the hat being removed from the head and held in the right hand during the bow,--which is at once brief, deferential, and dignified. it may be accompanied by the handshake, in which case the hat is lifted by the left hand. the degree of the depth of the bow is usually spontaneous, determined by the deference felt, or the emotions which the meeting may summon. it is useless to bow low to conceal scorn or real disdain, for they are sure to reveal themselves in the artificiality of the pose, or in the carriage of the shoulders, or in the movement of an eyelash, and usually nobody is deceived. the correct position for an extreme bow is with the feet near together, the legs straight, and the entire body inclined from the hips. this is somewhat too extreme for common use, and should be modified always in public, the less elaborate bow being much preferable upon the street or in public places. a woman bows more erectly than a man does, and gives perhaps as cordial an impression by the greater expressiveness of her greeting, which should always be characteristic, and never mechanical, or in imitation of others, whose natural traits may be far different, however admirable she may consider their style to be. it is only when she meets some one her senior, or in much more important social position, or one whom she specially delights to honor, that she elaborates her bow, or curtsies if not in public and if the occasion admit of the formality. a lady should be straightforward in her greeting, never condescending to the coquettish mannerism of letting the eyes fall during the bow. she should sink her personal consciousness in the fact of meeting another, and should not intrude it into the intellectual interest of such a meeting. the handshake is accomplished by extending the right hand horizontally from the elbow and clasping, between the closed four fingers and thumb of the hand, the closed four fingers of the friend's right hand, then quietly shaking it. this is sometimes varied by lifting the clasped hands,--not the elbow,--to the height of the shoulders, and there mildly shaking them, or clasping them with a slight pressure and letting them drop,--styles savoring of affectation. the impulse prompting the handshake,--that of getting together in intimate personal greeting,--is accomplished when the clasp is ended, and vigorous and prolonged shaking, or special pressure, or continued holding of the hand, are all alike unpardonable. the bow is the least sign of recognition, and may mean little or much, but its significance is known only to the two concerned. while it is permissible in public places to make its cordiality, or lack of it, apparent, it is not permissible to greet fellow guests at any private social function with either more or less than a uniform and impartial courtesy. the bow does not mean that one has a calling acquaintance. it may mean only a casual knowledge of one another's existence, due to some brief coming together. intentionally to neglect to bow, after a bowing acquaintance has once been established, is an open affront, and denotes either extreme rudeness or veiled insult. the dropping of an acquaintance by refusal to recognize, may, in our complicated social system, sometimes be necessary, but it is only justified by the necessity for society to safeguard itself against some of the more flagrant social abuses. it is a woman's privilege, in meeting a man whom she knows, to bow first. indeed, the man always waits for her to do so, unless he is a very intimate friend. a woman should always be sure, before bowing to a man, that she knows him and that she has caught his eye. when a gentleman is walking with a lady, he lifts his hat when she bows to an acquaintance, even if the person is not known to him. so, also, when he is alone and meets a man whom he knows, who is in the company of a lady, he lifts his hat. when, walking with a lady, he meets a gentleman whom he knows, he removes his hat. when a gentleman meets a party of ladies or stops to speak with one only, it is customary for him to retain his hat in his hand until she requests him to replace it. this is done with social superiors and to show great respect, being more ceremonial than finds common acceptance among americans. when he is with a gentleman who bows to a lady, he also lifts his hat. it is proper for him to lift the hat when offering any courtesy to a lady, even though a total stranger, and upon leaving a lady with whom he or a person accompanying him has been talking. it is well to return a bow which is directed to you, even if you do not know the one bowing. this often saves considerable embarrassment to the one who has for the moment mistaken you for some one else. when passing before ladies seated in a lecture hall, or concert, a gentleman always asks their pardon for troubling them. in passing or repassing on the street or promenade, a single bow is sufficient recognition, even though you may meet an acquaintance several times. a lady, receiving in her own home, shakes hands with the stranger with the same cordiality as with the friend. a gentleman when greeting a lady never takes the initiative in hand-shaking. if a lady offers her hand, however, it would be very rude indeed for a gentleman not to accept the courtesy. persons who have met at the house of a mutual friend, but have not been introduced, are under no obligation to bow when they meet elsewhere afterward, and usually do not. when a man passes a lady on a staircase, in the corridor of a hotel, in the elevator of a private apartment house, or in the public rooms of a hotel, he lifts his hat although she may be a stranger. this rule does not prevail on the staircases and in the corridors of office buildings, with the exception, perhaps, of banks and such offices as people of wealth frequent; for a new fineness of courtesy has made men feel that, as women are winning an equality of position in the business field, a delicate way of recognizing that equality is by giving them a comradely deference rather than paying them the social attentions. another marked expression of this is in the fact that a business man, when walking on the street with a business woman, does not interrupt their conversation by changing sides with her in order to keep constantly on the outside of the walk. an indication of the two kinds of courtesy, social and business, is often grotesquely shown when a woman in social life, perhaps the wife of one of the men present, enters an office where there are both men and women of equal business importance and social rank. there is an elaborate social courtesy paid to the wife, who is in private life, which would not be paid, and would seem grotesque and ill-mannered if paid, to the business woman, even though she were at once the active vice president of the corporation and wife of the president. _introductions_ the usual form of introduction is, "mrs. allen, may i present mr. brown?" or, "mrs. allen, let me present mr. brown." or, "mrs. caldwell, allow me to present colonel glazier." where, however, the permission need not be suggested, and the relative standing of the people is the same, the form may be only, "mrs. gleason, mr. ansel." when it is necessary to introduce one person to several, the form is, "mrs. gladstone, i want you to meet mrs. falmouth, miss washburn, mr. cronkshaw, and mr. edgerton." the one introduced simply repeats each name and smiles as she greets each in turn. another form much in use is, "miss hanscom, i want you to know my friend, mr. thompson, the artist," and is preferable because of its definiteness. the response to an introduction is, "i am happy to meet you," or, "i am very glad to meet you." if one does not catch the name of the person introduced, it is proper to ask it, saying, "pardon me, but i did not understand the name." introductions should always be spoken distinctly, especially the names. if, in introducing, one can add a sentence which will give a subject of conversation, the preliminaries of acquaintance may be speedily passed, and memorable information and real profit be gleaned from even a casual meeting. it is a mark of intelligence and social instinct to be quick to catch and retain in memory a face and name from even a brief introduction, and the tacit compliment to the person so remembered is apt to win his favor. persons who have not been introduced are not considered acquainted. the exceptions to this rule are the guests under a common roof, while they are there. introductions should never be indiscriminately made. there should be willingness, if not eagerness, on the part of both to meet. a hostess is, however, warranted in introducing two people who she knows will be congenial, or if they have before expressed a desire to become acquainted. if any doubt exists as to how the introduction will be received by either, they should not be introduced. one should never introduce two acquaintances who reside in the same town but move in different social circles, unless each had desired the introduction. if there is a difference of station or age, then it is necessary only to ask the older or more prominent person whether the introduction would be acceptable. this should be done quietly, and quite out of hearing or knowledge of the other person concerned. a gentleman should ask a mutual friend for an introduction to a lady whom he wishes to meet. unless there is no possible objection, the mutual friend should not introduce the gentleman until he has made sure that the lady is willing. it is not well to introduce gentlemen to one another indiscriminately, nor should ladies be so introduced. one wishes to keep the boundaries of one's acquaintance within certain definite limits, and choice is easier made before acquaintance than after. so, one shows great care in offering introductions to others, and exercises the same care for one's self. if a hostess and her guest are out walking together, the hostess would introduce to her guest every friend who happened to stop and speak with her, and the guest, should she meet acquaintances of her own, would introduce each of them to her hostess. this is practically the only case where indiscriminate introducing is good form, and here the obligations of hospitality safeguard it. a lady usually offers her hand to a gentleman who has been introduced to her, but a bow, a smile, and a repetition of the name are all that is necessary where several introductions are being made, as at a large reception or dancing party. a gentleman always offers his hand to another gentleman on being introduced. an elderly lady may offer her hand in all introductions with perfect propriety. if, while walking out with a friend, you meet another, do not introduce the two. a transient meeting is of no particular moment to them, and their friendship or acquaintance with you is not necessarily of strong enough interest to make them desire acquaintance. if, however, you meet at some public place, and are detained there together for several minutes, then the introduction should be given. when meeting at the house of a mutual acquaintance, friends may introduce friends, but it is preferable to leave the introductions to the hostess. it is no longer necessary to introduce each guest to everybody else at a party. introductions are made as opportunity or necessity may dictate. this abolishing of promiscuous and wholesale introductions relieves two very embarrassing situations,--that of being introduced by announcement to a whole roomful of people, and that of being taken around and introduced to them singly. a mother may present her son, or a sister her brother, or a wife her husband, if she so desires, without any question as to the propriety of it. a man should not, on the other hand, introduce another man to his wife, or a son or brother make a presentation of a man to his mother or sister, unless he knows that such acquaintance could not but be agreeable to the lady, and unless it meets with his own approval. for it is a man's place always to safeguard a woman against undesirable acquaintances. a woman, in introducing her husband, gives him his title, if he has one, as "judge hartwell," "doctor foley." the wife of the president of the united states speaks of him only as "the president," and in presenting people to him, he is always addressed as "mr. president," with the invariable omission of his surname. a friend or acquaintance, no matter how distinguished, is always presented to one's father or mother or one's intimate relative, where the intimacy of the relation makes an honor more distinguishing, in the mind of the introducer, than any of reputation or position. a young man should be introduced to an older man, a young woman to an older woman. a man is always presented to a woman, never the reverse. if a lady is seated and a man is presented to her, she need not rise. if two ladies, both seated, are introduced to each other, they should rise, unless one is old or an invalid, in which case both remain seated. two gentlemen, though both are seated, rise and shake hands when introduced. a young lady always rises when an elderly person is introduced. introductions are not made at table. the guests at a dinner party should be presented to one another in the drawing-room before coming to the table, and if that is impossible, as many should be introduced as may be, especially those who are to sit beside or near or opposite each other. if one is seated beside a guest whom he has not met, the man takes the initiative in speaking a few words as soon as he takes his seat, to which the lady responds always cordially, keeping up more or less of a conversation during the dinner. at dancing parties all those who are giving the party, as well as all the ushers and those who receive, make introductions as general as possible, so as to insure the pleasure of the guests during the evening. an introduction at a dance carries with it the obligation on the part of the man to ask the woman for a dance, and on her part to grant his request unless her card is full. when traveling great care should be taken as to introductions. as a guest one should be ready and willing to meet any one whom his host or hostess may introduce, even though it be an enemy. the obligations of hospitality rest nowhere more heavily than in this matter. they demand that impartial courtesy should be shown to every one. _calls_ calls must be made in person, rather than by card left by messenger or post, after an invitation to dinner, luncheon, supper, or similar function, and that within a week or, at farthest, two weeks of the date of the affair. one should also call in person within two weeks of any entertainment to which one has been asked, especially if one has attended. one need repay formal calls, where no invitation to any social occasion has been received, only once a year. even in this case, cards may be sent by mail. in the country it is usual to go in person, though one does not ask if the lady of the house is at home. calls should be made upon the "at home" day, if one is engraved upon the card. if a person is ill, a near relative, or intimate friend, may leave a card for her at the house of the friend upon whom she wished to call. society holds young people who are free to attend parties and entertainments under stern obligation to pay their social calls. young mothers, professional women, students, invalids, and semi-invalids are not expected to conform rigidly to the same rules. if a young woman can go to a party to amuse herself, she must call afterwards to acknowledge the courtesy of the invitation. if a mother cannot call in person, her daughter or some one else may pay the necessary calls in her stead. or she may invite the people whom she would otherwise call on, to an afternoon tea, which is more of a compliment than a call. in calling at a house, should the door be opened by a member of the family, the caller does not present her card to the lady or gentleman, but steps in, asking for the person whom she wants to see. she may leave her card unobtrusively on the table when she goes out. if a maid opens the door, the card is handed to her and received on a small tray. no well-trained maid ever extends her hand to receive a visiting card. if a caller wishes to be very formal, she leaves a card for every lady in the family on whom she wishes to call. in the beginning of the season a wife always leaves her husband's card with her own, and she usually does this also when making a call at the close of the season. an unmarried woman calling on a married friend leaves only one card. if the friend has daughters or is entertaining a guest, a card may be left for each. a lady always rises to receive a visitor. it takes good judgment to know when to go, but it should be cultivated and practised. lingering in taking one's leave is a great weariness, to one's hostess if not to one's self. after a birth calls are made upon the mother after the child is a month old. after a death the friends of the family should call in person inside of a month. the members of the family do not receive them, however, unless they wish to do so. _social calls of men_ a man never carries or leaves the cards of other men, nor can he leave cards for any of the women of his family. a gentleman who calls on a lady's afternoon at home leaves in the card tray, on entering the house, a card for his hostess and one for his host. the card for his host must be left, even if that gentleman does not appear in the drawing-room, provided the caller is acquainted with him, and providing he is calling in acknowledgment of some hospitality recently received. if there is a host, hostess, and young lady daughter in the house, and the caller is a friend of the latter, he leaves three cards. the man who is making his first or last call for the season on the regular afternoon at home, leaves one card for each of the ladies, and each one of the men of the household whose acquaintance he can claim. when a man calls on a lady's day at home, and his call has no reference to any social debts, he leaves only one card in the tray. if he is somewhat intimate in the house where the call is paid, he leaves no card at all. a man does not call upon a woman unless she invites him, or some member of her family does, or he goes with a mutual friend who has made sure of his welcome. a woman may say to a man, "mother and i are usually at home fridays, and would like to have you call," or some other form of invitation which denotes cordiality. a man who desires to call in particular upon one lady, in a family where there are several, hands his card to the servant with the words, "please give this to miss curley, and i would like to see all the other ladies also." the ladies appear and greet him, withdrawing that he may call upon the one he especially wished to see. if calling upon a guest in a home, you always ask for the hostess also. a man retains his hat, gloves, and walking stick in hand during a formal call, though he may have left his overcoat in the hall. _first calls_ in america it is the usual custom for residents of the city or town to call first upon newcomers. washington is a well-known exception to this rule, as strangers there call first upon government officials and their families. in most european cities newcomers call first upon those already in residence. the residents, from the officials down, return their cards, and the visitor or newcomer receives invitations to social functions. in practice the resident does not usually know anything about the stranger, and may not have even heard of her arrival. sometimes the newcomer sends out cards for several days in a month, to those with whom she would like to become acquainted. if she can enclose the card of a mutual friend, as a silent voucher for her social standing, her position is more quickly and more surely granted her. clergymen and their families, brides, and persons of note are entitled to receive first calls. the older residents of the community are expected to lead in the list of callers who welcome the newcomers. first calls should be promptly returned, within a week at the very latest. a married woman making a first call upon a married friend sends one of her own and two of her husband's cards to her new acquaintance. chapter vi the personal card and the engraved invitation _form of card_ a man's card is usually one and a half by three inches in size, and made of fairly stiff bristol board. a woman's card is usually about two and three-sixteenths by three inches, and made of dull-finish, fine, medium-weight bristol board. the color of cards is a fine pearl white. cream or tinted cards are never in good form. the engraving varies from plain script to elaborate old english text, or shaded roman type, according to the fashion. the engraver may be trusted to know the style and stock most in use. the card of an unmarried lady should be somewhat smaller than that of the married. this distinction is made, however, only in case of the card of the débutante. _inscription_ if there is room across the card the full name should be engraved. if the names are too long, only the initials of given names should be used. all inscriptions on one card should be in the same style of type. "mr." is prefixed, unless there is a special title, such as, "reverend," "doctor," "colonel," etc. if a man should, in an emergency, write his own name on a card, he would not prefix the "mr.," or any other title. the name should be written in full and should be an autograph. a married lady should have her husband's full name, or such form or parts of it as he uses, with the title "mrs.," and not her own name. a young woman has the title "miss" engraved before her name, even though she be only a schoolgirl. a young man has no title at all on his card, but simply his full name. the newly married couple use a card with the title of "mr. and mrs." for the first year after marriage, in returning their ceremonious calls after the wedding, and paying formal calls when the husband is unable to accompany the wife. these cards should have the address in the lower right-hand corner, and the reception day or days in the lower left. after the first year they are seldom used in paying calls, but can be used for condolence, congratulation, or farewell where both husband and wife desire to be formally represented. a woman who is personally distinguished, who occupies a high social position, or whose husband stands at the head of his family, may have only "mrs. barnaby," not "mrs. john barnaby," upon her cards. it is better, however, not to do so unless one has the indisputable right to be considered as _the_ mrs. barnaby of the locality. it is customary for the wife of the oldest brother of the oldest branch of the family alone to have the privilege of this form. the same rule of precedence applies to single women. the oldest unmarried daughter of the oldest brother, and she alone, has the right to use "miss campbell" on her card, although she may have a cousin who is much older than herself, but who is the daughter of a younger brother of the same family. a widow has no cards during her year of mourning, as she makes no formal visits. after that, cards with black border to any depth desired may be used. a widow has no legal right to retain her husband's christian name, but she often prefers to do so, and it is entirely proper, the question being one of sentiment alone. in case there is a married son of the same name as the father, then it is proper for the mother to put "sr." for senior, at the end of her name, should she desire still to retain her husband's christian name. in such a case widows occasionally prefer to use their own names or initials. in this country a married woman merges her name with that of her husband. it is not uncommon nowadays for married women to sign their own christian name, their maiden surname, and their husband's surname as their signature. there is value in this as it preserves the family identity of the married woman, but the question of its legality may always be raised. the name of daughter or daughters is often engraved below that of the mother on her card, before the young woman enters formally into society. the form "the misses smith" may be used, or the names given separately. in new york in some circles the débutante is not given a separate card until she has been in society a year. as american schoolgirls often have a card with the prefix "miss," the débutante may use this among her girl friends. to write anything on an engraved card except "condolences," "congratulations," "_p. p. c._," is not considered good style, although a lady may use her visiting card with "five o'clock tea," "music," or a special date written upon it as an informal invitation to a musical or "at home." a business or professional woman may have, in addition to her society card, a card with her own name for business purposes. this usually has a word or two denoting her profession in the lower left-hand corner, and her business address in the lower right. a lady's card should always contain her home address in the lower right-hand corner. her afternoon "at home" is usually given in the lower left. the address is often omitted from cards for men, being engraved on those of the women of the family. men belonging to a fashionable or well-known club put its name, instead of their residence, on their cards. this is especially the case when they do not live at home. if living at a club, the address is put on the lower left-hand corner; if living at home, the lower right-hand corner. on a man's business cards the title "mr." is omitted, the name of his firm, their business, and address, being engraved in the lower left-hand corner. _titles_ titles which signify permanent rank, or profession that lasts for life, and which are allied to a man's identity or distinctly bear upon his social standing, should be used. temporary titles, which have no special social rank or bearing, or professional titles, such as "esquire" for lawyers, which have no social significance, are not used. for the same reason that temporary or technical titles are not used, honorary titles are omitted. there should be no pretense in regard to social position, as pretense is easy and futile. a man appears in society simply as an ordinary individual, to win favor and position by force of his personality, or to lose it thereby. an army or a naval officer, a physician, a judge, or a clergyman may use his title on his card, as, for instance, "captain james smith," "judge henry gray," "rev. thomas jones, d. d." the card of an associate justice of the united states supreme court at washington reads "mr. justice holmes." military or complimentary titles are not used, nor are coats of arms. in this republican country it is considered an affectation and bad taste so to make use of them. political and judicial titles are also omitted, as are academic titles, such as chancellor, dean, and professor. no title below the rank of captain is used on the card in military circles. a lieutenant's card would give his full name with the prefix "mr." and below it the words, "lieutenant of fifth cavalry, united states army," or simply, "united states coast guard service." _use_ the etiquette of the visiting card is a fluctuating one. it cannot be laid down for all time, or even for next season. on entering at a reception, or afternoon tea, one leaves a card in the salver offered by the butler or attendant who opens the door, or upon the hall table, as a reminder to the hostess, who can hardly be expected to remember, if entertaining a large number, every one who has been there. one does not leave cards at a wedding reception, however. at an afternoon tea, it is no longer necessary to leave a card apiece from all the members of the invited families to all the members of the family of the hostess and her guests also. the single card for the host and hostess is all that is required. should one be invited to a series of receptions, one leaves cards only once although one may attend twice. leaving cards in person after a tea or reception is good form only for ceremonious affairs. after the usual private reception one should certainly call. if only one member of a family can attend a reception to which the others have been invited, she may leave the cards of the others, together with her own, with perfect propriety. also when one is not able to attend a reception or an afternoon tea, cards may be sent by mail, although it is better to send them by messenger, to arrive on the day of the entertainment. one should call within a fortnight. it is not now considered necessary to call in person where formerly it was so held. the sending of the personal card often takes the place of the call. nor need this be done by messenger. cards for any purpose may now be sent by mail. after removing from one part of the city to another, it is customary for ladies to send engraved cards with their new address and with their reception day to all of their circle of acquaintances. a woman who is stopping for a brief time in a city where she has friends, sends to them her card containing her temporary address and the length of her stay, as "here until june second," or "here until sunday." a man, however, calls upon his friends, and if they are absent leaves his card giving the same information. if a son old enough to go into society wishes to do so, his card is left with his father's and mother's at the beginning of the season. he will then be invited to the functions given by the friends of his parents. when there is illness or mourning in the household, friends leave their cards with the words "to inquire," "sincere condolence," or "sympathy" written upon them. the card which accompanies wedding gifts should be the joint card of "mr. and mrs.," if the gift is sent jointly, and may well have the words "best wishes and congratulations," written upon it. the initials "_p. p. c._," meaning "_pour prendre congé_," or "to take leave," are written upon one's personal cards, which are then sent out to one's friends when one is going away from a place either permanently or for a long time. they are usually written in the lower left-hand corner of the card. these cards may be sent by post, when the person leaving town has not the time to make a personal visit. they are not used when leaving town for the summer. it is quite proper to send or leave "_p. p. c._" cards when one goes away from a summer resort, especially if the people to whom they are sent do not live during the year in the same town or city with the sender. it is no longer permissible to fold over the ends of a card, to signify that it was intended for all the members of the family. the birth of a child may be announced by a small card containing the full name of the child daintily engraved, with the date of the birth in the lower left-hand corner. the card is tied to the mother's card by white ribbon, and both are enclosed in one envelope and sent by post. visiting cards for those who are in mourning are the same size as the ordinary card. the width of the black border is regulated by the degree of the relationship to the deceased. _the engraved invitation_ a fine grade of heavy, unglazed, pure white paper, suède finish, in double sheet folded to a size about five by seven and a half inches, or less, inserted in an envelope of the same width but half the length, is used for the billet on which wedding invitations and announcements are engraved. the impress of the plate demarks a margin of about an inch. a heavy or medium grade of white bristol board is used for invitations to "at homes," dinner, receptions, dances, and all like social functions for which the common visiting card is not used. the size used varies with the number of words in the invitation, and may be quite large, as for a club or society reception, or formal openings or special occasions where a business corporation is the host. these cards have the same plate margin as the wedding invitation, although it is much narrower. only the most formal invitations have space left for the writing in of the name of the guest. the billet, however, has certain advantages, especially where the occasion is very formal and select, and the information which should be furnished the guest is considerable. elegance of this sort is now very costly. several styles of type are in use: namely, the script having close round letters, and being as nearly black as roman or old english when engraved; a script lighter and more cursive; an old english lettering; a shaded roman letter, which is constantly growing in popularity; shaded caxton; solid and shaded french script; and a plain roman block letter. the script is the type most commonly used, both because of its beauty and legibility, and because of the comparative inexpensiveness of engraving, the cost being about half of that of either the old english or the shaded roman type. it is obvious that the size of page in this book will not permit facsimile reproductions of specimens of invitations and other social forms, which in nearly every case require a different proportion of space than the page offers. therefore, to reproduce the style of lettering used for these forms has not been attempted. the examples present correct wording and proportionate arrangement. the following plates, which are exact photographs of steel and copper engraving, present several styles of script, old english, and shaded and plain roman faces, but do not represent more than a few sizes, and those the most common. [illustration: type styles and sizes for invitations] _at the church of the messiah_ _two dancing parties_ _request the pleasure of_ _at home_ _at home_ =announce the marriage of= =brookline, massachusetts= =first unitarian church= =request the honour of your presence= _=mr. and mrs.=_ _=new hampshire=_ =announce the marriage of= =mr. and mrs.= =at emmanuel church= =at warren, pennsylvania= _=mrs. william howell meade=_ _mrs. william howell meade_ =mrs. william howell meade= =mrs. william howell meade= _dining and party invitations_ the engraved card invitation for a luncheon is usually worded as follows: _mrs. everetts s. sinclair requests the pleasure of your company at luncheon on tuesday, february nineteenth at one o'clock hotel willard_ the dinner invitation is identical, except that for "luncheon" is substituted "dinner," and the hour is usually half after seven or eight o'clock. to this, or to any other dining invitation, may be added in the lower left-hand corner the words "please reply," or, "the favor of a reply is requested." the party invitation may take either of the two following forms: _mrs. harold harmon williams requests the pleasure of your company at a dancing party to be given at the glendale country club wednesday evening, december the twenty-ninth from eight until eleven o'clock_ _mr. and mrs. samuel fairfield watson request the pleasure of_ _company at the somerset club on the evening of friday the ninth of february from nine until one o'clock dancing and bridge jackson boulevard_ the blank invitation is very convenient, as it may be sent out at short notice, and is definite and personal. the following is a form which lends itself to any one of the usual kinds of home entertainment: _mr. and mrs. st. john ambrose lockwood request the pleasure of_ ........................................ _company at_............................ _on_............................ _at_................................ _ washington avenue_ when, on an engraved invitation of any sort, be it wedding or dinner or any other, a blank line or lines are left for the insertion of the name of the guest, there is danger that, unless this is done with great care and by an able penman, the beauty of the invitation be ruined, and therefore its cost thrown away. for that reason a wholly engraved invitation is perhaps better, unless the work of addressing them and inserting the name is to be done by a professional penman. of course, when this is done and well done, there is a personal touch, a suggestion of individual welcome, which can be gained in no other way, and which the wholly engraved invitation lacks. when an entertainment is given by a family at some place other than their home, the invitations have the name of the place and the street address put in at the usual place on the invitation, and then in the lower right-hand corner the words "please reply," with the home address. a bachelor or widower uses his name alone at the top of the invitation. he will, of course, provide a chaperon, who in many respects takes the place of a hostess and so acts, but her name does not appear upon his invitation, unless she be his sister or near relative. the invitation then becomes a joint one, after the usual form. a widower with daughters may send out invitations headed in either of the following forms: _mr. john marquand_ _miss marquand_ _miss estelle marquand_ or _mr. john marquand_ _the misses marquand_ for a dinner followed by a dance there are two invitations, the one a dinner invitation at an early hour for the favored few, the other a dancing party invitation at a later hour. clubs have blanks which may be filled in by their members when they wish to entertain. these are issued in the club name, and are like any other private invitation, except that at the bottom and to the left "compliments of" is engraved, and the name of the member who is special host is written in. invitations containing the words "_bal poudre_" signify that the entertainment is a masquerade or fancy dress party, and the guests are expected to come in fancy costume with powdered hair. the word "ball" is used of an elaborate formal dance, usually a public one given by some club or for charity, and rarely of a private dance. in spite of the predominance of the engraved invitation for the most formal affairs, still small dinners, and even receptions and dancing parties, are sometimes announced by the handwritten invitations. the form should be the same as the engraved one, although to very intimate friends it should be changed to a friendly note. acceptances are in the form of the invitation. if that is an informal note, the acceptance or regret is sent in the same style. if the invitation is formal, the reply also should be written in the third person and be about as follows: _mr. and mrs. allston b. sinclair accept with pleasure the kind invitation of mr. and mrs. arthur emanuel farrington for dinner on thursday, the ninth of december at half after eight o'clock_ the reply to an invitation should be sent to the person or persons who issued it, never to any other member of the family, although such a one may be better known. to write the word "regrets" on one's visiting card and send it in declination of any invitation is bad form, even if the invitation come in similar shape. one should always write a note of regret. bachelors and widowers, who entertain at their apartments or studio or club, and army and navy officers never use the words "at home," but always "request the pleasure (or honour) of your presence." if one is entertaining a guest and an invitation is received, one may with propriety ask the hostess for an invitation for one's guest, if the form of entertainment is so general as to make this right and reasonable; otherwise one must decline the invitation. it would not be right to ask for another dinner invitation, or one to a select group of people, where the guest would be an intruder. it is preferable and a much later form to use the words "please reply," or "an early reply is requested," rather than the abbreviation "_r. s. v. p._" for "_rèpondez, s'il vous plaît_," meaning "reply, if you please." if a son should return from college or other absence, and the parents wish to entertain for him, their invitations would have at the bottom the word "for" followed by his name. in sending out invitations, one should be sent to the father and mother jointly, one to each son separately, and one to the daughters jointly, the latter being addressed "the misses estabrook." invitations should be sent to people in mourning, although they are not expected to accept. they should not be slighted or forgotten during such a period. _wedding invitations and announcements_ the following are the usual forms of wording for the wedding invitation: _mr. and mrs. reinhard ernst ormond_ _request the honour of your presence_ _at the marriage of their daughter_ _eida_ _to_ _dr. otto bertelli_ _on wednesday, the first of april_ _nineteen hundred and thirteen_ _at twelve o'clock_ _church of the messiah_ _st. louis, missouri_ _mr. arnold hamilton forsyth_ _requests the pleasure of your company_ _at the marriage reception of his daughter_ _margaret_ _and_ _mr. walter mallory_ _on the evening of wednesday, the twenty-ninth_ _of june_ _one thousand nine hundred and twelve_ _from eight until ten o'clock_ _ elm hill avenue_ _philadelphia, pennsylvania_ _r. s. v. p._ _dr. and mrs. maurice howe cavanaugh_ _request the honour of_ _presence at the marriage of their daughter_ _rebecca falmouth_ _to_ _mr. charles hunnewell clark_ _on monday, the ninth of july_ _at eight o'clock_ _church of the redeemer_ _washington_ the usual form of marriage announcement is as follows: _mr. and mrs. william t. kimball_ _announce the marriage of their daughter_ _dorothy lucinda_ _to_ _mr. leroy l. hallock_ _on wednesday, the first day of december_ _one thousand nine hundred and twelve_ _chicago, illinois_ _mr. arthur edmand sawyer_ _and_ _miss emma pauline farrington_ _announce their marriage_ _on sunday the sixteenth of july_ _one thousand nine hundred and ten_ _at boston, massachusetts_ the "at home" card of the bridal couple, which goes with a wedding invitation, does not have the name of the couple upon it, but reads simply _at home_ _after the first of november_ _ pennsylvania avenue_ _washington_ when an "at home" card is included in a wedding _announcement_, however, the name of the couple appears upon it, as follows: _mr. and mrs. albion frederick marston_ _will be at home_ _ chapel avenue_ _after the first of august_ _toronto_ for the card of invitation to the wedding reception the wording is as follows: _reception_ _immediately after the ceremony_ _eight salem street_ or _reception_ _immediately after the ceremony_ _in the church parlors_ in the case of a church wedding, it is always well to enclose with the invitation a small card reading: "please present this card at the church on august the third." in case the wedding takes place in the country and invitations are sent to many friends in the city, a card giving directions as to what train to take, and where, which is to be presented to the conductor instead of a ticket, and which entitles the possessor to special accommodations, is enclosed with the invitation. wedding invitations, or announcements, and their accompanying cards, are enclosed in two envelopes, one within the other, of the same stock as the billets. upon the outer is written the name of the person and his street address; upon the inner only the name of the one for whom it is intended. wedding invitations should be addressed to "mrs. chandler jones," on the outside envelope. within this is a second envelope addressed to "mr. and mrs. chandler jones." the older custom is to address the outside envelope to "mr. and mrs. chandler jones," as well as the inside. the lady of the house is now, however, beginning to be looked upon as head of its social affairs, as her husband is of its business affairs, and hence the style of addressing invitations to her. the words "and family" are no longer used after the parents' names, but separate invitations are sent to the members. it is quite the courteous thing to include among the people invited to a wedding, especially if it is to be in a church, the special business friends and associates of the bridegroom-elect, his father, and the bride's father. in case the invitations are for the ceremony only at a church wedding, the address of the bride's parents should be embossed upon the outside envelope. acquaintances purely professional do not receive cards to a wedding. one's physician, however, if his family is prominent socially, may be included among the guests. announcement cards should be quite ready to post immediately after the ceremony. they should be sent to all the circle of friends and acquaintances of both the bride's and the bridegroom's families, save to those who have been invited to the marriage or the wedding reception. the announcement of an "at home" or reception should always be made on a separate card,--not on a corner of the wedding invitation or announcement. an immediate reply is necessary when one is invited to a home wedding. if the wedding is a church wedding, and there is no reception following it, one makes no reply if one intends to be present, but sends one's card upon the date set, if one cannot attend. _various announcement cards_ in case of the postponement of a wedding or a dinner or reception because of some grave accident or illness, the cancellation of the invitations, or the announcement of the postponement, should be engraved and sent out at the earliest possible date. for a wedding it may read somewhat as follows: _mr. and mrs. maynard s. taylor_ _regret to announce_ _that on account of serious illness in the family_ _the marriage of their daughter_ _emmeline and mr. fosdick arlington_ _will be indefinitely postponed_ a family which has passed through a period of calamity and bereavement may wish to make some acknowledgment of the attentions of friends, and may do so in some such form as follows: _the brothers and sisters of_ _dr. ralph j. harkins_ _gratefully acknowledge_ _your kind expression of sympathy_ the special "at home" card which is used for a reception in honor of a friend or guest may contain the name of the friend either on the first or the last line of the invitation, with the words "to meet" before it; as: _mrs. ernest l. lafricain_ _at home_ _thursday, december twenty-third_ _from four to six_ _ grand pré avenue, montreal_ _to meet mrs. jackson seymour montgomery_ for a general reception the following form is good: _mr. and mrs. henry illington bray_ _mr. and mrs. harold bray_ _request the honor of your presence_ _on new year's day_ _from four until half after seven o'clock_ _ albemarle street_ _winnipeg_ the private engraved card for christmas and new year greetings, which may be sent to one's entire list of friends, is much in favor. great distinction and individuality of design and selection of sentiment may be obtained by this means. the following is an appropriate form: "_the glory breaks and christmas comes once more_" _mr. and mrs. nathaniel clarke sutherland cordially greet_ _with every good wish of the season_ chapter vii behavior in public the test of the depth of one's courtesy is found in one's attitude to strangers and the public at large. if one observes toward them the little courtesies, then one may be safely trusted to keep to the highest ideal of social intercourse in times of emergency and rigid testing. always in a public place the real gentleman and lady will be unobtrusive, speaking quietly, and showing in their manner that they each believe himself and herself but a single unit in the world of humanity, and therefore not entitled to monopolize attention. they will go about their business with none of that idle curiosity which forms the street crowd. in places of public amusement, they will show true courtesy by not coming in late,--that is, by being on time or missing the performance. they will not rustle their programs needlessly. they will so dispose of their coats and wraps that others will not be inconvenienced by them, even if it takes them an extra ten minutes at the close of the evening to obtain them from the cloak room. they will not talk or whisper to each other during speaking or singing on the stage, or at any time when so doing will make it difficult for others to hear what is going on. they will applaud temperately, and with only that degree of fervor which is for the best interests of the audience and the actors as a whole. that is, at a concert they will not so applaud one artist as to break up the program. at formal business meetings they will take pains to conform to parliamentary usage, which is really only the etiquette of debate, and will not insist upon rights which have been ruled out, or in word or manner express a disorderly spirit. "the greatest good of the largest number" will be the rule of their deportment in public. at a social occasion of any sort, every one present is under obligation to do what he can to add to the general pleasure. if he cannot or will not, he should remain away. if he is asked to play a musical instrument or sing, he should do so without urging, for his talents, except in very special cases wherein he would not be asked, are or should be at the disposal of the company, or at the request of his hostess. any voluntary or requested performance of this sort may be as brief as he pleases, and should be brief, unless his talent is so great that there can be no possible doubt of its acceptability, and he is in a generous mood,--a combination of circumstances rare in any but the most talented circles. if you turn the pages of music for a musician, do so in a quiet and self-forgetful manner. interest in you is quite subordinate to interest in the performer. do not by extravagant applause encourage parlor recitations, for mediocre talent is always profuse. it is a mark of good breeding to control or at least conceal one's moods, so that in company one always appears to be content, if not happy. it adds much to the happiness of others to give this impression, and is therefore generous as well as wise. it is always rude to interrupt with conversation, or yawning, or any motion, a musical performance, or any entertainment whether public or private, in which those about one are interested. one should retire if he cannot refrain. behavior in church may be taught in one great principle, providing that principle is fundamental enough. the sense of reverence for the things of the spiritual life may be felt, if not comprehended, by even the child. no amount of "don't's," if the spirit of worship be not instilled, will avail to make the child of any age an attentive and reverent worshiper or even attendant at church. the sense of worship will forbid whispering and chatting with friends, the noisy turning of the leaves of hymn-book or bible, or an indifferent or scornful attitude when any are in prayer. another sign of the same reverence is the careful observance of punctuality at the service. a church service is, by its very nature, a more intimate and important service to the attendant than any other. therefore, to come in late, thus distracting the attention of those who have gone to church for meditation or worship, is a far more flagrant offense against the rights of others, than is the disturbing of their pleasure at a theatre or a concert by a tardy entrance. the habit of a vacant or absent mind in company is a grave fault, and works greatly to the detriment of one's reputation for intelligence, in spite of all else that one may do to establish it. straightforward attentiveness is the attitude of most profit and enjoyment in society. one learns then what other people are thinking about, and becomes more and more active mentally. such an attitude establishes the confidence of others in one's sincerity and intelligence. inquisitiveness is fatal to real charm. no one cares to talk twice with a person who, no matter what his wit or ability to entertain, has betrayed one into divulging facts or making remarks which he regrets. upon the street a gentleman always takes the outside of the walk, when with a lady, the custom having come down from the days when dangers beset the path, and the man had to be at the point of vantage for the protection of the woman. when a married woman and an unmarried girl are walking together, the married woman takes the outside of the walk. in passing single file other people or some obstacle, the gentleman always steps back and allows the lady to precede him. if, however, the way is crowded or there is necessity that she should be protected, he goes first. in entering a hotel dining-room the lady always goes first. a lady never takes a gentleman's arm unless she is blind, infirm, or crippled, or in a turbulent crowd. the considerate person will not enter even a public hotel late at night, much less a home, his own or any other, in a noisy, careless fashion. those who are asleep deserve as great consideration as if they were awake, and more also. the modern courtesy of letting each one pay for himself in a car, a train, a restaurant, or a theatre, is a much more rational one than the older form of permitting one to act as host, as if he were in his own house. a gentleman might offer to pay for others, if he wished to, but he should not insist upon paying; nor should any one carelessly or designedly permit his expenses to be paid by another, unless he himself expects to offer equal hospitality at another time. in entering a carriage or automobile, one should step promptly, without either loitering or haste. if one is to sit facing the horses or the front of the automobile, and there is but one step to take, one puts the left foot on it. if there are two steps, the right foot should take the first, the left the second. if one is to face in the opposite direction from what the vehicle is going, one should use the right foot first in case of the one step, and the left foot first in case of the two. when two ladies who are guest and hostess are driving together, the guest should enter first, taking the farther seat, facing the front of the carriage, so that it will not be necessary for her hostess to pass her. when a mother and daughter enter a carriage, the mother precedes, and the daughter sits by her side if no other lady is present. in case of two daughters, the elder sits by the side of the mother, and the younger sits opposite. the fashionable hours for driving are from two-thirty to five in the winter, and from three to six-thirty in the summer. young women never ride horseback in cities or in public parks without an escort. in the country the rule is not so rigidly enforced. in case a groom is the escort, he rides slightly behind, keeping watch that he may be of service. a riding-habit should be absolutely neat, simple, and inconspicuous. the hat should be plain, the hair compactly done, and the whole effect of the costume trim serviceableness and grace, rather than prettiness. in mounting a horse a woman gathers up her habit in her left hand, and stands close to the horse with her right hand on the pommel of the saddle. the man who assists her stoops and places his right hand with the palm up at a convenient distance from the ground. the lady then puts her left foot into his hand, and springs up into the saddle with his assistance. it is necessary, first, to have a firm seat; secondly, a skillful hand on the rein. one should sit in the middle of the saddle, in an easy, natural position, with the body not stiff but supple and responsive to the motion of the horse. the elbows should be well in to the side, in a line with the shoulders, and the hands should be relaxed and yet responsive to the slightest pull of the rein. it is no longer considered wise and necessary for a woman to use a side saddle. in the freedom of a graceful divided skirt, she strides the saddle as do the men, and therefore has an equal chance with them to ride gracefully and safely,--a privilege which fashion long denied. to keep to the right always is the only safe rule in the united states. in england and canada the rule of keeping to the left is observed with the same rigidity. in business life it is not good form to dine with your employer. this does not include a ban upon those business dinners, where there is a group of people, the majority of them men, with one or two unmarried business women of equal or superior business standing, who meet over the dinner table to talk of business problems. that occasion has its own etiquette, and one which the business man or woman readily fashions for himself or herself, and which follows the rules of business expediency rather than social life. it is not necessary to recognize in society a strictly business acquaintance unless you wish to do so. neatness demands that the traveler always carry his own toilet articles, and not depend upon the public supplies, which are, however, supposedly safe and sanitary for use in emergencies. the dress for traveling should be plain and simple, suited to the need rather than elaborate. the effect of crumpled finery is so very unpleasant that no person of taste will make a display of it in a public conveyance. if you wish to leave your seat in a train, a coat or bag placed upon it is sufficient to reserve it for you. the removal of a coat or bag so placed is a very great rudeness. a gentleman will give up his seat to two ladies, or to a gentleman and lady traveling together, as he can be more readily accommodated in the single seats than can they. it is courteous for a gentleman who has a vacant place in the seat with him to offer it to a lady who is standing, and so prevent her from feeling that she is intruding in taking it, if there are no other seats vacant. when a man opens a door for a woman who is a stranger, or offers her any other civility, or begs pardon for some blunder, he takes off his hat to her. while traveling alone, it is not necessary or wise to be resentful of polite remarks or attentions. they should be met with equal politeness. quiet dignity and tact will terminate without offense any conversation which has grown too familiar or tedious. the comfort of all in the car, not of one individual, should be consulted in the opening of windows and doors, and the consent of those sitting near should be gained. it is a grave breach of good manners to monopolize a dressing-room for quite a period of time. one should be as expeditious as possible, and should not seriously inconvenience others, even if he deprives himself of some of the comfort he desires. it is not well to travel unless you can afford it. if you can and do travel, deal courteously and generously with those who serve you. ask questions only of officials of the road or the ship, or of policemen in the street. the exchange of visiting cards with strangers, unless under unusual circumstances, is unwise and bad form. ordinarily a lady pays her fare herself, unless she is under escort of a relative or intimate friend to whom she gives the right to pay for her. when she enters a car alone and there meets an acquaintance, she always pays her own fare, unless the acquaintance may be an old and intimate friend. when a lady is taking a long trip under escort of some gentleman friend, it is proper for her to reimburse him for his expenditures in her behalf. she should hand him her purse with which to purchase her ticket. the munching of nuts, fruit, or candy in a crowded public conveyance is a serious offense against those about you. a neat lunch, quietly eaten at an appropriate hour, is not offensive and is quite permissible. but one should not impose even the odor of food upon people who are forced to be near, and who may find it extremely disagreeable. the recent passage and enforcement of laws regarding expectoration in public places is a great step in advance, and must be rigidly maintained for the sake of the public health. the chewing of gum, while no menace to society, is as unesthetic and disgusting as expectoration, and should fall under as righteous if not as severe a ban. in a car or train do not fan yourself so vigorously that the person in front of you feels the air current upon the back of his neck. a book or newspaper should not be placed so that it rubs constantly against the hat of the person in the seat in front. pushing, shoving, and all like methods of getting people to move out of your way, or of getting ahead of others, are marks of great rudeness, and have a tendency to retard rather than aid one's progress through a crowd or into a car. the quiet, good-natured crowd disperses most rapidly. at the ferry and all prepayment places, have the right change in hand, so that you do not keep back those who are in a rush to catch a boat or a car, by fumbling for your money or making the receiver make change. do not carry an umbrella carelessly. you are as culpable if you injure another as another would be if he injured you. to converse in loud tones or talk of personal matters anywhere in public shows great lack of fine feeling and good breeding. never show hostility, nor permit people to quarrel with you. the irritability which crowded conditions aggravate makes it necessary to adhere, from principle, to the rule of strict good-will toward all. if you are escorting a woman, do not permit her to suffer any discomfort; but if, by chance, she does, do not pick a quarrel with the person who caused it. firmly but quietly afford her protection, but do not demand satisfaction for discomforts or insults for which there is no satisfaction and whose discussion only increases the offense. a lady need feel no embarrassment if she is obliged to spend a few days in a hotel alone. upon entering she would go to the desk and make arrangements for a room. when the choice is made she surrenders her hand bag to the bell-boy, who conducts her to her room. she should, for her own convenience and protection, deposit valuables or large sums of money with the hotel proprietor in the office safe. then the responsibility becomes his, but he does not assume it if they are left in the room. upon leaving her room, she should lock her trunks and door, and leave the key with the clerk at the desk. a lady's deportment in a hotel is that of quiet reserve, but not of haughty distance. she should dress simply and plainly, so as not to attract attention, as she is in a public place. the only time when elegant dress is permissible at a hotel is when one is with an escort, or is one of a group of people so dressed in order to attend some function. a lady will not stand or linger in the halls of a hotel, will not loiter about the hotel office, or walk out alone upon the piazza or any conspicuous place, or stand at the windows of the parlor. she will remember that she is in a public place, where she may encounter all classes of people, so she will not permit herself any of the liberties of a home. she will not go through the halls humming or singing, or take a book or newspaper from the public parlor and carry it off to her room, even if she does shortly return it. she will not, even in her own room, make such noise as will attract attention or disturb other guests. she will not call a cab herself, but will summon a bell-boy and have him attend to it. after her baggage is packed she will let the servants attend to it, even to the handing her of her umbrella and hand bag after she is in the carriage. she will never take the liberty of chiding a servant, but will make a necessary complaint to the clerk at the desk. to open a window in the parlor of a hotel, when others are by and may be discomforted, is a breach of politeness. also it is not right that even an accomplished musician or singer should use the piano of the hotel parlor, if others are in the room, unless he has received a unanimous invitation to do so. one may greet fellow guests in the parlor or the dining-room without being thought forward or intrusive, and also may respond to such greetings without compromise, as such acquaintance does not imply or demand recognition elsewhere. a lady, when alone at a hotel dining table, will decide quickly what dishes she wishes, and order them distinctly but quietly. she will wait patiently to be served, without any display of embarrassment. it is allowable to read a newspaper while waiting for breakfast, but not good taste to bring books to the table at any time. if she desires a dish which she sees, but the name of which she does not know, she will not point to it, but will indicate it to the waiter by her glance and her description. if she has friends or makes table acquaintances, she will talk with them in a low tone. she will never talk with some one at another table, nor laugh loudly. if any civility, such as the passing of food, is offered her by either a lady or a gentleman, she will express her thanks, but will not start a conversation. the usual good manners of cultivated people, emphasized by the additional restraint which the presence of the public imposes, is a safe standard of etiquette in a hotel. chapter viii the art of being a guest just as the host and hostess, in sending out an invitation, obligate themselves to make everything as enjoyable as possible for their guest, so a guest, in accepting, obligates himself or herself to meet the efforts of the host and hostess at least halfway. success in the art of being a guest depends more upon the spirit in which one accepts of entertainment than upon the entertainment offered. a formal dinner is one of the most solemn obligations of society. after having once accepted the invitation, only death or mortal illness is an excuse for not attending. one may attend a formal reception and not expend more than twenty minutes of time, if one wishes to be very prompt. the round of social duty there is brief. a lady removes her wrap, but not her hat or gloves, in the dressing-room, and thence goes directly to the drawing-room. the guest here greets the host and hostess, briefly if the reception is large and the flow of incoming guests constant, then passes to the room where the refreshments are served. after partaking of these, the guest may leave without bidding adieu to the hostess, unless the reception is small and she is free to speak a second time with her guests. if one is present at an afternoon tea or reception, it is not always necessary to call afterwards; yet, many hostesses expect such a call if the affair has been formal. one should certainly call after a tea given to introduce a débutante, or a wedding reception, or one given in honor of some special person or event. if a guest is not pleased with the food provided at a luncheon or dinner, or for any special reason cannot eat of any one dish, he should try and satisfy himself with something else, and make no comment upon it, doing his utmost to prevent his hostess from thinking that she has not well provided for him. at a dancing party a young man should assist his hostess in seeing that all the young ladies have an equal chance to dance, and that none are obliged to sit out dances because of a dearth of partners. his obligation to his hostess and to society should be thus honored, as it is not, of course, a private affair for his own amusement, and as upon him, more than upon the young women, depends its success. it is necessary that introductions be freely made at a dancing party, in order that all may enjoy the evening, and every one should try to make all his friends acquainted with each other. a young woman remains seated by the side of her chaperon until asked to dance. after a dance her partner returns with her to the chaperon. if the son of the hostess requests a dance of a young woman, she should give it unless her program is quite full. if for any reason she refuses a dance to one man, she should not give it to another, but should sit it out. a woman, having once promised a dance, should fulfill her promise unless too ill to do so, in which case she will dance no more during the evening. the young man who is thus refused is free, having returned with her to her chaperon, to seek another partner. unless a young couple are engaged to each other, they should not dance together so often as to be conspicuous. nor may they disappear into secluded corners and sit out dances. it is poor taste and very questionable etiquette, even if engaged. when asked to dance, a woman hands the man her program, saying, "i am not engaged for that dance, and will be pleased to give it to you." after the dance the man may thank the woman for it, and she may make some remark to express her pleasure in it. if a man is delayed in claiming a woman for the promised dance, he should make profuse apologies. a man dances first with the woman he escorts, or with the daughters of the hostess, or her guests in the house. afterward he may choose for himself, always remembering that he should assist his hostess in giving a good time to all. a woman always makes the first move toward going home at every social gathering. at a dance it is not necessary to say good-night to the hostess unless there is a good opportunity. if a man is suddenly called away, he should try to find partners for the ladies with whom he engaged dances, and should explain his leaving to them. it is not obligatory, but simply a pleasant custom, for a man to send flowers to the young woman whom he is going to escort to a dancing party. when she is his fiancée, it is especially appropriate and appreciated. when one is on a visit, or at a house or weekend party, one has to follow the style of dress of the people whom one is visiting, so no hard and fast rules can be laid down. one should have suitable garments for each of the forms of recreation which one is to enjoy, and should follow quite closely the requirements of the hour. when traveling, small, plain hats and tidily draped veils are necessary. for mountain visits, thicker clothing and heavier wraps will be in demand, than are used in the city. when it is the custom to dress for dinner, one should always adhere to it, and so plan one's hours that nothing interferes with so doing and being prompt as well. a guest should not claim the entire time of her hostess. the hours between breakfast and lunch belong to the hostess for the doing of her household and family duties, and the guest should entertain herself during them. no guest should ever accept an invitation to an entertainment, a drive, or any other amusement without first consulting with her hostess. if, having friends in the same city or town, she has invitations from them for special occasions, she should inform her hostess of them promptly, that two plans may not be made for the same date. unless a guest is ill or very old and feeble, she never suggests retiring. that is the duty of the hostess. a guest should take pains to arrive when expected. if she has promised a visit, she should keep her promise, unless matters of serious illness or grave moment forbid it, in which case a prompt and explanatory apology is imperative. the guest should decide with her hostess, early in her stay, upon the date of her departure, if that has not been already settled in the form of the invitation, and should then abide rigidly by it, allowing nothing but the most earnest importunity on the part of her hostess personally, and for clearly shown and newly arising reasons, to detain her longer. the guest should be pleased and well entertained with everything that is done for her amusement, or should appear to be so. if she cannot give herself up to the enjoyment of the sort of entertainment which her host and hostess provide, she should not accept the invitation to visit them. the guest should be punctual at meals and conform in every particular to the ways of the household. she should not arrive in the living-room or drawing-room at hours when there will be none to entertain her, and when it would embarrass her hostess to know that she was unattended. to sit up after the family has gone to bed, to lie in bed after the entire family have risen, to be late at meals, to be writing an important letter or doing some mending when the carriage is at the door for a drive, or wish to go to drive when the carriage has been dismissed, to be too tired to attend the dinner or reception given in one's honor, to fail to keep appointments for the stroll or some sport because one wants to do something else,--these things show a total lack of consideration on the part of the guest, and make it impossible to enjoy her stay or wish for her return. at times which seem appropriate it is well to retire to one's room and leave the family by themselves. it is not necessary for the family life and comfort to be sacrificed constantly to the guest. hospitality would be more generously shown if it did not make so many unnecessary demands upon the time and comfort of the members of the family. the guest should never take sides in any family discussion, and if anything unpleasant occurs, she should ignore it entirely, and not seem to know anything about it or take any interest in it. it is an unpardonable breach of loyalty to one's hosts to retail any information one may have acquired on a visit, or discuss their characteristics and management with any one. a guest need not attend religious services, or be present at the calls of commonplace people, or enter into local philanthropies, unless he wishes to do so. true hospitality relieves him from all sense of obligation in these matters. if, however, carriages are provided so that guests may attend church, or guests are told of the hour for family worship and are invited to be present, it is more courteous to attend. guests at country houses should be willing to take hold and help in any emergency, such as the absence or sickness of the servants, and should be willing to join heartily in the country frolics where work is usually to be shared by all. in the country people visit in large parties, so when one is invited to go on an excursion or with a crowd to visit some neighbor, one should not hesitate for fear of being one too many. one should follow the wish of the host or hostess in regard to giving the servants some gratuity for service rendered, if that wish is known; otherwise, unless there is an accepted rule to the contrary, it is well to give, when leaving, a small gift of money to such of the servants as have been especially helpful. one should always treat servants with consideration and kindness, if not with generosity. it is better to be less lavish with money and more painstaking in remembering personally the people who have served you, renewing acquaintance with them if opportunity offers, treating them in a human way, and not with the indifference with which you would treat a mechanism. if a gift is given, it should be done unostentatiously. the tactful, quiet way of doing it, free from patronage, and showing only good-will and gratitude for service rendered, is the only polite way. money never compensates for haughtiness and brusqueness, and the gentleman or lady in spirit will not be unmindful of the feelings of even an incompetent servant. chapter ix the duties of host and hostess hospitality is a great pleasure to people of a sociable nature, and its obligations have a most refining influence. the generous consideration of others reaches its acme when one is constantly entertaining little circles of friends, with no thought but to give happiness. the pleasant custom of serving tea each day at five o'clock is one which admits of great enjoyment. the man of the house tries to be at home for the quiet social hour before the family dinner. the young people of the family are gathering after the day's dispersion. the friends, who are out calling or on their way home, drop in for a pleasant chat; and the charming hostess has time for many glimpses of friends, and chance also to say the right word to some friend in need of cheer, who knew that she could be found at her daily hour of welcome. the custom of receiving on a certain day of the week is a sensible and hospitable one. if one has such an "at home" day, it is more polite for friends to call on that day than on any other. if a lady has, however, sent out cards announcing that she is "at home" on "wednesdays in january and february," one should not call on those days unless one has received the card having the special invitation. some receive once a month during the season. they have the day engraved on their card, as "the first friday until lent," or "the second wednesday until april." the custom of sending out cards for a certain day throughout one month avoids a "crush" on any one day, and enables a hostess to receive informally without giving up a great part of her time. the informal entertainment is a greater compliment to guests than any formal entertainment, however splendid. the hostess should preserve the happy medium between neglecting and overattending to her guests. when a hostess wishes to have her friends meet an expected guest, she should inform them of the intended visit beforehand, and so enable them to make an engagement to meet her, or plan entertainment for her. invitations to a reception in honor of a friend can well be, and should be, sent out in advance of her coming, if her stay is to be short, and if the dates of her stay are definitely known. at a reception for the introduction of a friend, the hostess and the guest of honor will stand near the door of the drawing-room and receive. if the reception is very large, the butler announces the names of the guests as they enter. the hostess gives her hand to the newcomer, and presents her to the guest of honor. after a few words of greeting, the caller passes on into the room where the refreshments are served. the refreshments usually consist of dainty sandwiches, salads, perhaps creamed oysters or chicken, bouillon, chocolate, coffee, or lemonade. afternoon teas are less formal and less elaborate than receptions. the refreshments consist of tea, with thin slices of bread and butter, thin biscuits, and cake. at a dancing party the hostess receives, together with her daughters and any guests whom she honors by asking. the host may receive, as well, but his chief duty is to keep a watchful eye upon his guests, looking out for the chaperons, and seeing that the young people are supplied with partners for the dances. at a débutante party the mother stands nearest the drawing-room door, the daughter next her, and the father beyond. the mother greets each guest and then introduces the daughter. at the supper or dinner her brother or father takes out the débutante, who sits at her father's left. in case her brother takes her out, her father takes out the oldest or most honored lady present. the successful host and hostess see to it that all their guests are introduced to each other, if this is possible, so that the best of cordiality and the least restraint may characterize their mingling. _breakfasts and luncheons_ breakfasts may be homelike, informal affairs, or quite ceremonious. the hour of this meal is at any time before one o'clock, usually twelve or twelve-thirty. after one o'clock the affair becomes a luncheon. men are invited to a breakfast, but usually at a luncheon the guests are all women. a real breakfast menu, such as is often served on sunday mornings in the country, consists of fruit, cereal, a chop, or steak, or fishballs, with potatoes, eggs in some form, muffins or hot rolls, and coffee, waffles or hot cakes, or, in new england, doughnuts. the menu for luncheon consists usually of soup, fruit, lobster in cutlets or croquettes, with mushrooms, or omelet, or fish; broiled chicken, or lamb chops, with green peas and potatoes; a salad, crackers and cheese; ice cream, with coffee, tea, or chocolate. at a breakfast or luncheon, as at a dinner, every effort should be made to be punctual. the success of such an occasion may be ruined by a tardy guest. at a luncheon one removes wraps and veils in the dressing-room, retaining one's hat and gloves, the latter being removed at table, and resumed in the drawing-room after the meal, unless cards are the form of entertainment. as the guests enter the drawing-room the hostess shakes hands with them and introduces them to one another before going to the dining-room. when no men are present the hostess leads the way to the dining-room, and the guests find their places at the table by the name cards. when men are present the procedure to the dining-room follows the custom at a formal dinner. it is becoming customary to use the daylight as much as possible at all social functions; and, indeed, at no affair, unless it be very late in the afternoon and very ceremonious, is the daylight excluded and the candles and chandeliers lighted. _the formal dinner_ the most enjoyable dinner is that with four or six guests, which is served in a simple and only semiformal way. this enables a hostess to bring together only congenial people, and the group is small enough for the talk to be largely general, and thence especially valuable, as each brings his wittiest stories, his clearest thoughts, and his best self to the appreciative and inspiring circle. the formal dinner is usually set for seven o'clock, or half after, or eight. the elaborate dinner will take from an hour to two hours, according to the number of courses and the efficiency of the service. there should be a waiter for every six people, although at a small dinner an efficient maid may serve eight covers without much delay. the invitations to a formal dinner are sent out two weeks ahead. no more people should be asked than can be comfortably seated and speedily served. twenty inches at the very least should be allowed to each cover. children are never present at a ceremonious dinner. in choosing guests every effort should be made to have them congenial, with no glaring divergence of opinions, which would by any means make any one uncomfortable if the conversation were to become general. in seating the guests, only congenial people should be placed side by side. the intellectual harmony of a dinner is as important as the culinary harmony. ladies wear gloves at a formal dinner, and remove them only at table, resuming them when dinner is over and the guests have returned to the drawing-room. the dining-room must be quietly but well lighted. there should be no glaring lights, but a soft radiance which is so general as to make everything clear. an electric light hanging eighteen inches above the table, or a tall lamp whose light is at about the same height, either of them well shaded, are satisfactory additions to the candlelight. sometimes high lights are dispensed with and only candles used. candles should always be lighted three minutes before the dinner is announced. for a dinner of not more than eight covers four candles are sufficient light. relatives are not seated side by side, as the effort is to have a general mingling of the company. a clever hostess will see that her guests at a small dinner party are all introduced to each other before they enter the dining-room. the table may be round, oval, or rectangular, but if too narrow it cannot be made to look well. the tablecloth is always spread for a dinner. a thick pad of felt or double-faced cotton flannel should go under the tablecloth. the damask should be immaculate and of good quality. the tablecloth should hang almost to the floor at the corners. at each place there is a card on which the guest's name is written. these place cards often have the monogram of the hostess in the center and are otherwise blank, except for the name written on. the place cards at a dinner should be laid immediately before the plates of the guests or on the napkins, which are folded squarely, and of sufficient size to be of real usefulness. in setting the table, the spoons for soup, dessert, and coffee are arranged at the top of the plate; the knives and forks, the latter of several sizes, are placed on either hand, in order of use, and the small plate for bread, olives, etc., is on the right. in eating, the oyster fork is the first used, and then one takes the next in order. should one be in doubt, the rule is to glance at the hostess and adopt her method, whatever that may be. on elegant tables, each cover, or plate, is accompanied by two large silver knives, a small silver knife, and fork for fish, a small fork for oysters on the half-shell, a large tablespoon for soup, and three large forks. the folded napkin is laid in the center, with a piece of bread in it. fish should be eaten with silver knife and fork. a half-ladleful of soup is quite enough for each person, unless at a country dinner, where a full ladleful may be given without offense. individual salts or salt cellars are now placed at each plate, and it is not improper to take salt with the tip of the knife in lieu of a spoon. the place plates stand under the oyster or soup plates and under any course when it is desirable to have them. plates must be warmed or chilled according to the temperature of the food which is to be served in them. the indispensable courses of a dinner are soup, fish, roast, salad, and dessert. in arranging her menu, however, each hostess will suit herself to her pocketbook and to what she considers good form in the amount and kind of food. the formal dinner should be served in a very leisurely style. at the daily family dinner as well as at formal dinners, all the ladies of the house and among the guests should be helped before any of the men are served, even if some distinguished guest is among the latter. it is not necessary to wait until all are served before beginning to eat at a dinner, but wait until the hostess has commenced to eat. butter is not served at a formal dinner, and bread is laid in the napkin beside the plate. there should be no urging of guests to eat. it is assumed that a guest is not afraid to eat as much as he wants. when the fruit napkin is brought in, the user takes it from the glass plate on which it is laid, and either places it at his right hand, or on his knees. the doily beneath the finger bowl is not meant for use, but should be laid on the table beside the finger bowl. after the dinner has been eaten, and dessert is reached, everything is cleared off but the tablecloth, which is now never removed. a dessert spoon is put before each guest, and a gold or silver spoon, a silver dessert spoon and fork, and often a queer little combination of fork and spoon called an ice spoon. for the after-dinner coffee a very small spoon is used. coffee may be served in demi-tasse at the table, or later in the drawing-room. cream is never served with a demi-tasse. the napkin should be left lying loosely beside the plate after a meal. in case either a guest or a servant meets with any accident one should pass it over with as much speed as possible and turn the attention of all immediately toward some interesting matter. a mistake should be completely ignored by both hosts and guests. whenever a course is offered which you do not enjoy, never decline it, but accept it, and endeavor to take a small portion at least of it. you avoid then the tacit criticism of the taste of those who like it, and put your hostess at ease. no personal preferences in foods are to be consulted or mentioned when one is a guest at dinner. if one cannot accept of the fare offered, one should have declined the invitation. should a guest be late, the hostess need not wait more than fifteen minutes for him, after which time, if he appear, the host rises from the table to greet him and cover the interruption of his entrance, but the hostess does not leave her place. if he does not come until after the second course, he is served only as the others are served, and no attempt is made to serve the previous courses to him. when dinner is ready, the maid or butler appears in the drawing-room door, catches the eye of the hostess, and announces quietly that dinner is served. upon the signal, the host gives his arm to the guest of honor, and they lead the way, the lady being seated at the right of her host. after them come the other couples as the hostess has planned. each man has found upon the dressing-room table an envelope addressed to him, in which is the name of the lady whom he is expected to take out to dinner, and also in the corner "r" or "l" to indicate on which side of the table he and his lady are to sit. after all the others have passed out, the hostess brings up the rear with the gentleman guest of honor, who will sit at her right. evening dress should always be worn. for a lady a gown with low neck and short sleeves or elbow sleeves; for a gentleman, a dress coat and its accompanying trousers, vest, and tie of regulation cut and color. arrival a few minutes before the hour is customary in order for the guests to assemble in the drawing-room, greet their host and each other, and proceed together to the table. when the meal is finished, the hostess catches the eye of the guest at her husband's right, smiles understandingly, and they immediately rise, and, followed by the rest of the ladies, leave the room, the men standing meanwhile. the men linger for a half-hour or so over their cigars and coffee, or liqueurs, before following the ladies into the drawing-room. in the united states it is more usual for the men and women to leave the dining-room together, and the hostess to serve the coffee in the drawing-room, than it is for the men to linger by themselves at the table. after a dinner party one should bid good-night to the lady one has taken out to the table, to one's host and hostess. it is not good form to omit the latter, for she should be assured that you at least have enjoyed the evening, and that her effort at hospitality has been appreciated by you. it is not necessary to take a formal leave of the other guests. if you choose you may wish them a general good-night. a ceremonious dinner begins with a tiny bit of caviare on a tiny bit of toast. then comes the fruit. it may be melons, peaches, strawberries, or grape fruit. it must be in perfection, and should be on ice up to the moment of serving, and must tempt the eye as well as the palate. next comes the course of oysters or clams on the half-shell, which should be served on crushed ice, on oyster plates made with hollows for the shells, and picked up with silver forks made for the purpose. or they may be served more daintily without the ice, immediately after they have been taken from the cooler, and without delay. then a clear soup. it may be served from a silver tureen by the hostess, or may be brought in soup plates to the guests by the waiter. then fish. this may be served by the host or arranged in a dainty mince and served in shells to the separate guests. if served by the host, potatoes very daintily cooked may accompany it. throughout the dinner olives, salted almonds, radishes, and similar relishes may be passed. these are the only articles of food on the table when the guests take their seats. after the fish there can be an entrée or two of some delicate dish, but the roast properly comes next. it may be turkey, beef, mutton, or lamb. the host may carve it if he pleases, and the waiter receive portions from him and carry them to the guests. in many houses the lady of the house is served first, and next the guest of honor, who is the lady at the right of the host. with the roast some vegetables are served. then comes a salad, and with the salad cheese and crackers are served. the dessert follows the salad, and black coffee concludes the repast. this last may be served at the dining table, or later in the drawing-room by the hostess. the dessert may consist of ices, fruit, pastry, or confections. frequently there is a final course after the sweets, consisting of crackers and toasted cheese. _visits_ it is now considered quite proper for the host or hostess to specify the length of time covered by an invitation for a visit. the complication of duties in our present-day life makes the assignment of even pleasures to definite periods necessary. this is as important as the arrangement of trains and methods by which the guest may arrive and leave. the english manner of entertaining is a very excellent one, as it gives the guest his freedom and makes his visit of the utmost profit to himself and also to his host. the english host sets the time of arrival, has his servant meet the guest at the station with conveyance, has him met at the house door again by a servant, and shown to his room, where he is made at home by being offered some light refreshments. he is told at what hour he will be received by his host and hostess in the drawing-room, usually a short time before dinner. then throughout his stay he does not see his hostess till midday, although she provides amusement for her guests, which he is at liberty to enjoy or ignore as he chooses. after the noon meal he may do as he chooses through the afternoon, appearing only at dinner, which is the formal meal of the day, and at the general gathering of the family and guests in the evening. the various members of the family are ready to show the visitors the place, or the countryside, or play their favorite games during the day; but there is no effort to make the entertainment formal or to force it upon the guest. we do not wish to see even our most honored guests or our dearest friends all of the time, and this arrangement makes the meeting at dinner all the more enjoyed and valued. before inviting guests it is necessary to see to the comfort which is represented in the guest chamber. this should be as dainty and comfortable as any chamber in the house, and, in addition to the usual furnishings, should have other fittings intended to supply all the comforts of one's home. a full line of towels, toilet articles, and even night robe, bathrobe, and slippers should be ready for the use of the guest in the event that her trunk and suitcase do not arrive at the expected time. if the bed is fitted out with finery as well as with all the linen, blankets, and comfortables which a well-set-up bed requires, the care of the finery, its removal at night and folding up, should not be left to the guest. this should be attended to before bedtime by the maid, and the bed turned down ready for occupancy. there should, of course, be vacant bureau drawers and wardrobe. the guest, especially if her visit be for a short time, and she has not brought her workbox, will much appreciate a small workbasket fitted out with needles, thread, thimble, and scissors. a desk fitted with stationery, pens, and postage stamps adds much to the comfort of a guest chamber, for, no matter how brief the stay, facilities for writing to the distant home are needed promptly and constantly. the guest's comfort should be provided for before her entertainment or amusement, and she should be made to feel perfectly at home in her room, and her possession of it be absolute for the time of her stay. it is a compliment to a guest to remember her favorite dishes, or to arrange things to suit her known tastes and preferences. it is the duty of the hostess to give the signal for retiring. this should be done with a fine regard for the desires of guests, rather than according to one's personal wishes. _special duties of the country hostess_ the country hostess should make her entertaining distinctive from that of the city. every one should, at times, return to the country, for both physical and mental well-being. so when he is there, it is of great importance that he get country fare and country life, rather than make a fruitless attempt to live in the country as he does in the city. the country hostess should not attempt to entertain unless she can depend upon her servants. her relations with them should be such that there is no likelihood of having a houseful of guests and the servants thereupon suddenly weary of the quiet of the country, or for any other trivial reason promptly departing. the country hostess will, however, fit herself to meet any emergency which may arise, both on her own and her family's account, as well as on that of her guests. therefore, housekeeping and entertaining should be simplified as much as possible, and the most unexpected of emergencies should be anticipated and provided for, as far as may be. unless the country hostess is herself competent to cook and to tend the fires, she will never be safe in the sending out of invitations. for the same reason, other members of the family should be trained in helpfulness, so that an emergency will simply mean the adoption of emergency tactics previously agreed upon and practiced to the point of efficiency. the country hostess should remember that to her guests the charm and novelty of the fresh air and outdoor life are perhaps the greatest attractions of her home. so she should see to it that guests are left untrammeled, to go and wander where they may wish; and also that the guest chambers and all other rooms are kept filled with fresh air even in the coldest of weather. often the change to the invigorating country air makes the guest feel colder than the actual temperature of the room warrants. the hostess should remember this, and should provide that at all times the living-rooms and guest chambers be warmed as well as ventilated. the open fireplace is needed in addition to steam or furnace heat in an isolated country house. "simple things need to be excellent." the hostess should provide fresh fruit, chickens, eggs, vegetables, cream, and milk, the products of the country, rather than the elaborate dishes of the city. the hostess should enjoy the country and teach her guests to enjoy it. she should know the attractive walks and drives, the places of real interest, and she should be able to point out the picturesque spots, and the points of vantage for especially fine views, and to make others feel the charm of the country. the hostess should furnish outdoor occupations, should interest her guests in making collections of curious plants from the woodlands, and in getting acquainted with the trees. there should be some popular sports provided even in midwinter, and all the necessities for the enjoyment of these should be furnished, as well as a library, games, and all sorts of indoor entertainment and pastimes for the possible days of storm which shall block all exit from the house. the serving of meals out of doors, if the season and weather permit, is a distinctive feature of country hospitality, and very enjoyable to city dwellers. breakfast and afternoon tea are especially easy to serve on the lawn or piazza, but more elaborate meals may be so served if there are servants and facilities enough. simple meals out of doors are preferable to more elaborate meals within. in order to do this enjoyably or successfully, it is necessary to have the piazza or garden somewhat secluded. a hedge, in the absence of other protection from the curious, easily makes this possible. the informality possible in country entertaining is its greatest charm. neighbors should be encouraged to "drop in" at any hour, as the monotony of country life may thus be greatly relieved. the hostess who, in order to meet an emergency, is obliged to do much herself, should either simplify her plans of entertainment, so that she could carry them through without too great weariness to play her part as hostess by being with her guests, or should call upon them to assist her, and make it a companionable visit at any rate. rural festivities are usually festivals of labor, in which all join first in the work and later in the play. one should endeavor to do one's part of the work cheerfully, and in the spirit of good comradeship, as well as share in the fun. one of the most enjoyable resources of the country hostess is the picnic. this idea may be varied to suit any circumstances and any surroundings. it may take the form of an athletic frolic for the young people, or of a reading party in some secluded and shady glen on a hot day, if the company be intellectual, or various other forms. _public functions_ men and women of prominence are often called upon to act as special hosts and hostesses at public or semipublic functions, such as club dinners or luncheons, society receptions, school or college graduations, receptions given by the heads of business houses on anniversaries or at openings, civil or state receptions, charitable social affairs, and the like. as a rule, the etiquette and duties of such occasions do not vary greatly from those of the more private affairs, but usually greater formality is observed, and there is less responsibility on the part of the public entertainers for the details of the service. at a club reception and luncheon, the president and chief officers of the club, with the guests of the day, stand in line and receive for a half-hour or more, in the parlors of the club. when all the guests, or the most of them, have assembled, the procession to the dining-room is headed by the president with the guest of greatest distinction, who is seated at his right. the other officers follow in order of rank, with the other guests in order of distinction. after dinner, when the last course is completed and the débris removed, so that the tables present a neat appearance with their decorations intact, the president rises and raps for order. then, after a few introductory remarks, he begins the program of the day. these programs vary greatly, but usually include after-dinner speeches of the light and happy or only semiserious order,--unless the purpose for which all are gathered is of serious moment,--music both instrumental and vocal, by excellent performers, and the responses to the speeches, either by the president or by others of the officers who may be called upon for brief and pertinent remarks. a spirit of good-will and enthusiasm should characterize such a gathering, whatever the object of it. when one is appointed on the entertainment committee of a club, or of a city, or other body of people, for the holding of a congress of any sort, it is necessary to provide in minute detail for the entertainment of guests for a period covering the entire time of their stay. such guests should be met at the depot or boat landing, should be given every assistance toward making them acquainted with the officers of the congress and club, and with the city, and every detail of provision for their comfort should be looked out for. personal social claims upon their time should not be so made as to conflict with their real interest in coming, or with the advantages they may have sought in the visit, for carrying out their personal plans. when one is a guest on such an occasion, he should remember that while his entertainment may have been official, his obligation for it is personal, and that he should personally thank his hosts and, in particular, his special host and hostess, as if he had been their only guest. no matter how absorbing the business of the congress or conference, no matter how strenuous his own official duties, his obligation socially is imperative, and must be met. when one is a member of the graduating class of a school or college, or of any small group of people who, as a society, are entertaining, one should show the courtesy of host or hostess to every guest. this does not mean that one is responsible to every guest, to see that he or she is well entertained, but that, aside from his personal responsibilities to his own guests, he should be, at all the public functions, in the attitude of host to any stranger to whom he may show even the slightest hospitality. as for his own guests, there are one or two points of special courtesy because of the nature of the entertainment. if he is inviting young women, or even only one, to whom he intends to give his whole, or a large part of his time, he must also invite her mother or chaperon. this rule is invariable for the high-school boy graduate, for the graduate of the men's college, and for the man graduate of a co-educational university. in addition to the usual provision for guests, he must provide for their entertainment overnight or during their stay, if they be from the distance. he should, in addition, and early in their visit, acquaint them with the peculiarities of the local college customs. these customs are distinctive with each college, and their etiquette should be made clear to one who, though unused to them, is about to share them. chapter x duties of the chaperon the need of the chaperon is recognized in communities where there are large populations, and people are necessarily of many classes and unknown to one another. for this reason the system of chaperonage of the small communities of rural america has not been as elaborate or as strictly adhered to as that of the cities. the chaperon is the accepted guardian of very young girls, taking oversight of them in their social life as soon as the governess gives up her charge. the chaperon is only a poor substitute for the rightful care of a mother, or takes the place of a mother when the latter cannot be present, or performs in the person of one the duties of several mothers. young girls should never go about the streets of a city or large town unaccompanied by an older person or a maid. this rule is not so much for physical protection as for the example of teaching her that fine conduct and discretion which will forestall the possibility of unpleasant experiences. when a group of young people go to some public place of amusement or instruction, an older person should always accompany them. such an attendant, who should be one of the fathers or mothers of the young people, if possible, would be in so great sympathy with the spirit of the group that his presence would impose no restraint and spoil no fun, yet it would be a curb on undue or undignified gaiety, and a protection against criticism. the day is not very far distant when it was expected that if a daughter entertained a young man in the drawing-room, her father or mother would be present during the whole of the call. for débutante daughters the custom still holds good. for a daughter who has been out in society for one or more seasons, it seems somewhat rigorous and unnecessary, as the presence of the father or mother for a part of the call serves all the purposes of cordiality, and gives, as well, the young people a chance to talk without constraint of interests which seem perhaps foolish and trivial to any but young people. the wise father and mother or chaperon know when to trust young people, and when it is best to throw them quite upon their honor. it is only by having responsibility for their actions thrust thus upon them, that they ever attain to natural dignity and self-reliance. it is sometimes permitted to a young woman to be escorted to a party or entertainment alone by a young man, but only by one who is well-known to the family as quite to be trusted, and only to such parties as are presided over by responsible patronesses. this should be exceptional for any but the young woman who has been left without immediate family and who has been already in society more than one season. the duenna who acts as her natural guardian and chaperon, ordinarily accompanies her. it may be objected that there are large numbers of young women who are of necessity unprotected by adequate chaperonage,--through loss of relatives, financial limitations, or the following of some business calling or profession,--and that they are not, in general, treated with less respect than the young woman carefully guarded in her home. it yet remains true that the independent girl must needs provide for herself a chaperon upon certain occasions, or lose that consideration which she would keep at all costs. a strong character welcomes the aid of a careful observance of conventions. even the spinster of recognized professional standing finds herself somewhat restricted in social pleasures. she cannot go out socially with one man more than occasionally; she has little pleasure in going unattended; she can entertain but infrequently and in a small way, if at all, and never without an older married woman to assist her. she may, however, have her regular afternoon or evening "at home," provided she has with her this friend; and with that friend present, she may entertain a gentleman caller until ten o'clock in the evening, but she may not offer him cigarettes, nor any beverage but tea, coffee, chocolate, or lemonade. in fashionable life in the cities, the chaperon is an important and ever-present personage. wherever the young débutante goes in society,--to every place of amusement, when walking or driving in the park, when shopping or calling,--and during her calling hours at home, the chaperon is her faithful and interested attendant. the common usage of smaller towns, seashore places, and country villages differs in degree of attendance. the only wise rule is to follow the custom of the place in which one may happen to be, remembering always that the principle at the basis of the custom is wise and valuable, and that there should be good and sufficient reason for failing to follow it in its entirety. it is, however, not the letter of the law but the spirit of it which saves. experience shows that not always the completely chaperoned girl is safe and the quite-free girl in real danger. everything depends upon the girl, and the spirit of the chaperonage she receives. the relations with one's chaperon should be the most intimate and reliable and trustworthy of one's whole life; or they may be a mere farce and evasion. as a rule, however, too strict observance of the dictates of society in this connection is better than too lax. the careless way in which many parents allow their sons and daughters to go off with a group of boys and girls of their own age, unattended by any adult, is to be deplored. among the parents of several young people there certainly is some parent, who cares enough about his children and their associates to become a chum, and be at once a magnet to draw them to more mature and valuable ways of thinking, and a safeguard against that group folly towards which the irresponsibility of youth tends. until a girl makes her début in society, she is not seen at a party of adults except in her own home, and not there at a formal entertainment unless it be a birthday party, a marriage, or a christening. even after an engagement is announced, the chaperon is still the attendant of the young couple in fashionable circles, when they go to any place of public amusement. chapter xi the etiquette of the marriage engagement it is a wise and courteous action on the part of a lover to consult with the parents of the young woman and win their consent to his proposals before he presents them to her. this is largely a form in america, for the reason that in a well-ordered home the young man has not had much opportunity to pay attention to the daughter, unless the father and mother have considered him eligible for their daughter's friendship; also, the daughter, rather than the parents, does the choosing, and few parents would have the temerity to refuse a young man, whom they had permitted to enter their home, a chance to try his fate. should they have good cause for such refusal, they should have used their influence and authority to counteract any favorable impression the young man may have made, before matters came to a crisis. _the proposal_ in matters of great moment, where the emotions are deeply stirred, the trivialities of etiquette are at once superfluous and important. one may be so greatly overwrought as to do the unintentionally cruel and inconsiderate thing, unless habitual good breeding comes to the rescue, and steadies one by showing what is the conventional thing to do. no woman should permit a friendship to culminate in a proposal of marriage unless she is free to entertain such a proposal and has not decided in her own mind upon a negative answer. of course, there are times when she receives, without power to check it, an unwelcome proposal. her refusal then should be very decisive but very considerate. she should express regret at the situation, and her appreciation of the honor which has been done her, at the same time leaving no opportunity for future hope. in case she is already engaged, she should tell him so. if the proposal be written, it requires an immediate answer. urgency of response is determined by the importance to the sender. the return of a letter unopened, even if the woman have good reason to think that it contains a proposal which she must refuse, is extremely rude, and should be done under no circumstances but flagrant breach of confidence. if a letter is received by a woman from a man whom she has refused and whose persistency she has sought to end, she may place the letter in the hands of her parents, or guardians, or legal representatives, to be acted on as they think best. the manner of a proposal is the touchstone of character. no man and woman, having passed through this experience together, can fail to have obtained at least a glimpse of the depths or the shallows of each other's character. in a great majority of cases in america, at least, where access to the young woman is gained through a thousand social channels, the real declaration of love comes spontaneously, and is accepted or rejected before there is opportunity even for the formal proposal. for by a thousand half-unconscious signs does that state of mind reveal itself. so it happens that when the opportunity offers to settle the matter, there is little doubt in the mind of the lover and little hesitation on the part of the woman. this is true in that society where really well-bred and noble-minded women hold sway, for no woman of character permits the man to be long in doubt of her withdrawal of herself, when she sees he is attracted and yet knows that she cannot respond to his advances. the method of proposing is not a matter for a book on etiquette. it concerns, along with all major matters of morals, those deeper things of life, for which there is no instruction beyond the inculcation of high ideals. when the engagement is a fact and so acknowledged in the home, it is not a wise or courteous thing for the engaged couple to monopolize each other. consideration on the part of the family would see to it that they have some time to be alone together. yet the lovers should be as careful to keep their place in the social life of the home as if there were no special attachment. for social exclusiveness shows an absorption in each other which, if selfishly indulged, will bring its own penalty. that a couple are engaged denotes expectation of a future when they will be thrown largely upon each other's society; and, because it is essential for those who are to marry to become thoroughly acquainted, they should together mingle with other people, for so are the actual traits of character best brought out. this does not mean that they should avoid or neglect being alone together at times, but they should not obviously and selfishly absent themselves. the young woman should be formally courteous to her affianced husband, and should never slight him because he is pledged to her, nor unduly exalt him for the same reason. she should now remember that the broad world of her social interests is narrowing as they intensify, and she should not attempt in any way to break the bounds set for the engaged girl. she should not go alone with other young men to places of amusement or entertainment. she should maintain her dignity so carefully as an affianced wife, that her betrothed shall not have the slightest reason to be jealous of the attention she gives to the men whom she meets in society. on the other hand she must not cater to the man she is to marry, to the extent of failing to do her social duty, or of making others feel that she has no interest in them. as members of the same social set, the engaged couple will naturally meet much in society. they should not meet with effusion, or sufficiently marked discrimination to make others about them embarrassed. they should not spend too much time with each other. their hostess will send them out to dinner together,--which is in marked contrast to the custom later when they are married, for then they will always be separated when in society. the young woman should be careful not to permit her fiancé to take her away in a corner from other guests for a long time, and he should remember to do his social duty by other young ladies present, even if he wishes to devote himself to one. the task of meeting each other's friends, after the engagement is announced, is one which should be most interesting and enjoyable, and should have nothing of that embarrassment which comes from the sense of critical scrutiny. the great ordeal of winning each other is decided, and the die cast. the smaller matter of establishing friendships on a mutual basis should be a pleasure and not an object of dread. real affection and deep sincerity will make all prominent roughnesses smooth. an engaged couple are apt to be in the foreground of any social event which they may both grace with their presence. the common human interest of the unengaged, and the reminiscent interest of the married, tend to focus all eyes upon them. for this reason they will try and be as little conspicuous as may be. _announcement of engagement_ the announcement of an engagement may be made in several ways, but always first by the family of the young woman. if a public newspaper announcement is desired, a notice similar to the following, signed with a name and address, must be sent to the society editor of the local paper or papers: "mr. and mrs. howard abbott announce the engagement of their daughter ethel to mr. hayden b. bradley, of cleveland. the date of the wedding has not been fixed, but it will probably take place soon after easter." or it may read: "miss ethel abbott announces her engagement to mr. hayden b. bradley," etc. if a less public announcement is desired, the young couple may each write personal notes to their friends. in these notes one or two afternoons are mentioned when the young woman with her mother will be "at home." this gives an opportunity for the relatives and friends of the young man to meet his fiancée. the entertainment will be an informal afternoon tea, in which she and her mother receive, the former wearing a pretty but not too rich-looking gown with long or elbow sleeves. sandwiches, cakes, and tea should be served. if an engagement is to be for long, it would be well to have the announcement of it as quiet as possible, or not to announce it until the time for the wedding draws near, and, also, for the young people not to be seen very much together until its final stages. immediately upon the announcement of an engagement, the mother of the man should at once call upon the young woman and her mother, and invite them, or the entire family, to dinner. the family of the young man should be the first to make advances. the other members of the young man's family should call upon the young woman promptly, even if they have never met her before, or, if calling is impossible, they should write and express their approval and good wishes. according to the position of the family, should the elaborateness of entertainment be. it is a nice custom, when the young lady lives in another city and has never met the family of her fiancé, for them to invite her to come and visit them. the calls of his family upon her, and their letters to her, should be very promptly returned or answered. if the young woman live in the country, her father will invite the young man for a visit. _bridal "showers"_ the bestowal of engagement presents has of late years taken on a wholesale aspect. instead of the occasional receipt of a present from one or another of her friends and relatives, the bride-elect is often now the guest of honor at one or more parties called "showers," and the recipient of numerous gifts which are literally showered upon her. there are many kinds of "showers," as many as the ingenuity and financial resources of friends may admit of. when, however, any one bride is to be made the object of a series of such attentions, it is well for the girl's friends who have the matter in hand to see to it that no one person is invited to more than one shower, or, if so invited, that it be at her own request and because she wishes to make several gifts to her friend. these affairs should be purely spontaneous and informal, and occasions of much fun and jollity. nevertheless, there is danger of overdoing the idea, and making the recipient feel burdened rather than gratified by the zeal of her friends in her behalf. effort should be made not to have the articles given at a "shower" duplicate each other. they should be some simple, useful gifts, which will be of immediate service, and need not be either expensive or especially durable, unless the giver so desires. a "shower" is usually given when a wedding is in prospect, and the necessity of stocking up the new home confronts the young home-makers. the aim is to take a kindly interest in the new home and help to fit it out, more in the way of suggestion than in any extravagant way, which would make the recipients feel embarrassed or indebted, or overload them with semidesirable gifts. the "shower" is usually in the afternoon, and is joined in almost exclusively by the girl friends of the bride-elect, with perhaps a few of her older women friends and relatives. if, however, it comes in the evening, the men of the bridal party are usually also invited. the refreshments are simple and the style of entertainment informal. the invitations to a "shower" are usually given by the hostess verbally, or she sends her cards by post with the words "linen shower for miss hanley on wednesday at four." there is a wide range of possible kinds of "showers," but the only rational way is to choose for a donation party of this sort only such objects as will be needed in quantity and variety, and in the choice of which one has not too strong and distinctive taste, as, for instance, the following: linen, towels, glass, books, fancy china, silver, spoons, aprons, etc. of course, the furnishings of some one room, as the bath-room, laundry, or kitchen, might be the subject of a "shower," but usually a housewife would prefer to have what she wanted and nothing else for use in these places. _the broken engagement_ when an engagement is broken the young woman should return to the young man all letters and presents, and may ask, by a brief, courteous, but dignified, note, for the return of her letters to him. it would not be necessary, ordinarily, to write such a note, as the man would take the sending back of his gifts as final, and to mean the return of hers also. in case the wedding is near, so that wedding presents have been received from friends, the no longer "bride-elect" should return them to the givers with an explanatory note. the note should mention nothing beyond the fact that the engagement has been broken. the mother of the young woman is the one to announce the breaking of the engagement. she quietly does so, by word of mouth or notes to friends. in case of a broken engagement, it is not delicate to allude to it, unless one is a very intimate friend, and then it is better to leave the first broaching of the subject to the one most concerned. it is customary for the privilege to be granted the woman of terminating an engagement without offering any explanation other than her will. nevertheless, she will not use this privilege arbitrarily, without casting a shadow upon her reputation and character for faithfulness and integrity. a man is expected to make no explanation, even privately, as to the reason for the breaking of the engagement, as the release must at least appear to come from the woman. whatever she chooses to say, or however unjust the remarks of friends seem, he is in honor bound to show great reserve, and not to cast any shadow upon her reputation, even if his own suffers instead. however, in many circles to-day it is enough to say that an engagement has been broken mutually, even though no reason is obvious. this should be so, for if too much comment attaches to the breaking of a marriage engagement, marriages will be entered into the almost certain outcome of which is the divorce court. a lady should never accept any but trivial gifts, such as flowers, a book, a piece of music, or a box of confectionery, from a gentleman who is not related to her. even a marriage engagement does not make the acceptance of costly gifts wise. _preparation for a wedding_ the preparation which the bridegroom makes for the new home, is, of course, by far the larger share of its establishment. he provides the home, furnishes it with everything but the linen, which the bride will bring, and the ornamental decorations, including silver for the table, which the wedding guests may, in these days of lavish presents, be expected to furnish. even if he does not choose to set up a house-home at once, the provision for the future is all his, and he has to bring to the wedding the wherewithal to make a home, whether it be in household furniture or only the certificates of wealth with which to provide for the bride. this is a matter of pride with even the poorest lover,--with all save that small class of men who, either from the most worldly of motives or, in the very opposite extreme, from motives so high that they will not permit personal pride to stand in the way of the real union of hearts, submit to the indignity of becoming pensioners rather than donors. whatever the custom for the division of responsibility in regard to the home and the future, in actual life, in every true home responsibility is equal, and convenience alone decrees what the bride and the bridegroom shall each contribute to the common hoard. the bridegroom also provides a part of the wedding, and although his share is minimized, yet it is often a costly and important part. he should provide the flowers which the bride and her attendants carry. the bride usually chooses her flowers, which are ordinarily white roses, lilies of the valley, or fragrant white flowers of her favorite kind. besides providing the wedding ring, the bridegroom usually presents to the bride some gift. it is perhaps the deed of the house he has bought and furnished for her. or it may be jewelry, or anything else that she desires and that he may have it in his power to bestow. the bride makes him no special gift other than her hand, as that is her supreme gift. the personal provision of the bridegroom sometimes consists of a new wardrobe throughout, besides his wedding suit. if he is wise he will wear his new suits somewhat before he appears in them as newly married. his wedding suit will consist of evening dress, if he is to be married in the evening, complete with white gloves and tie, and boutonnière of the same flowers as the bride's bouquet. if married in the afternoon, or any time before six o'clock, he will wear a frock coat of black, white vest, gray trousers, and white tie and gloves. in case the wedding is in the evening and the bride is to wear her traveling dress, hat, and gloves, the bridegroom may wear the same suit as for an afternoon wedding, if he chooses. the custom of having a new wardrobe throughout is not necessarily followed, of course. it is through the bridegroom's consideration for the bride, and his appreciation of the housewifely duties which she undertakes on his behalf, that he makes those as small as possible at first, knowing that the years will bring her her full share. the bride's wedding wardrobe is made a matter of special moment, because it is for the last time that she is outfitted by her father. therefore, he wishes to give her all that she needs for some time to come, that she may grow used to reliance upon her husband before he has to undertake the burden of her personal expenses in the matter of clothes. the outlay, however, is limited in quantity to the probable needs of the first season of married life, if the bride is wise, as there is no wisdom in having more garments than can be worn to advantage before the style changes. no sensible woman will set a standard of expenditure too high for her future income, in what she buys for her wedding wardrobe. the only circumstances in which she should exceed the modest sum of her usual outlay,--beyond the fact that she needs more and special garments for the different social occasions, and has a pride in having them as nice as possible,--are those in which she marries a man of much higher social station and much larger income than her own. in that case it may be well for her to put some of her savings for the future into the gowns which she knows will be necessary for her in her new station. the special gowns necessary for a bride are: her wedding gown,--which is of pure white if a maiden, or pearl gray or some other delicate color if a widow,--the wedding veil, the traveling suit, a reception gown, a church suit, a somewhat elaborate visiting suit, a plain street suit, house dresses, a dainty wrapper, and a new outfitting of underclothing, in number and quality to suit her usual custom, or as nice as she can afford. for the bride whose purse is not overfull the number of gowns and suits can be materially diminished; the wedding gown, with some slight changes, such as the removal of the high collar and long sleeves, can be used as an evening dress; the traveling, church, and visiting suit may be one and the same; the house dresses may be reduced to a minimum by frequent washing. that one cannot provide an elaborate wardrobe with which to begin married life should not be a barrier to a marriage which in every other respect appears to be auspicious. the bride's trousseau proper, or that store of linen which she provides for her new home, should consist of approximately the following: for every bed three pairs of sheets, three pairs of pillow cases, three bolster cases, one or two pairs of blankets, two counterpanes, and an extra quilt. for her bedrooms she should provide table, stand, and bureau covers, as the style of the furniture may suggest, and also such covers for couch pillows or armchairs as a thrifty housewife would desire for the sake of cleanliness. for the bath-room there should be three dozen towels, a half-dozen bath towels. towels for the maid should also be included. for the dining-room, four tablecloths and two dozen napkins for common use, with two finer tablecloths and two dozen napkins for special occasions, make ample provision for the average home. there should be doilies and tray cloths, covers for the sideboard, also mats and centerpieces for the table. for the kitchen, three dozen cloth towels for dishes, hand towels, cleaning cloths, holders, and every necessary sort of towel in abundance. with the increasing use of the paper towel, much of this provision for bath-room and kitchen may be dispensed with, as the paper towel is much neater and more economical. the wedding gown, which is of white satin or silk, and usually as rich and elegant as the bride can afford, is always cut high in the neck and with long sleeves, or, if elbow sleeves, they are supplemented by long gloves, which are not removed even at the wedding breakfast. the custom is to wear white exclusively from veil to shoes. whether or not the veil is worn, a hat is never provided for this gown. it is customary, in case a bride is married in her traveling suit, for her to wear the hat and gloves which go with it. at a home wedding, however, this rule is not usually adhered to, unless the couple leave at once. the bridal veil and orange blossoms are worn only at the first marriage of a woman, and usually only with a gown made with a train. the bridegroom should acquaint himself with the rules and regulations in regard to the marriage license some weeks ahead of the date set for the wedding, if possible, as the rules vary in different states, and in some a period of residence or notification is necessary. a marriage certificate, furnishing easily available knowledge of the legality of the marriage and its date, is often of great convenience in the disposition of property, the probating of wills, and in the settlement of numerous questions which might arise in minor matters. this should be provided before the ceremony, filled out and signed immediately after it by the officiating clergyman, and signed by several witnesses. the wedding ring is, by long established custom, a plain gold band. it should be of the best gold, and the fashion now is for it to be moderately narrow and thin rather than wide and thick. the ring, the unbroken circle, is symbolic of eternity. the bridegroom gives it into the keeping of the best man, whose duty it is to hand it promptly to him at the proper moment of the ceremony. the initials and date are engraved upon the inner surface of the ring. when wider rings were worn some appropriate sentiment was also often engraved. once placed upon the bride's finger, it is her pride to see that it is never removed. as mrs. sangster feelings says, "it is a badge of honor, and, worn on any woman's hand, a symbol of her right to belong to the ranks of worthy matrons." it is well to rehearse the movements of the bridal procession within a day or two of the ceremony, that there may be no flaw in the conduct of the actors in this dramatic bit of realism. if it is to be a church wedding, more than one rehearsal may be required. in that case the organist should be present, as well as every member of the bridal party, except the clergyman. the opening of the church for such rehearsal is included in the fee which the sexton receives, which ranges from ten to fifty dollars. usually refreshments, in the form of either a dinner or supper, follow the rehearsal, the bride entertaining at her home. if the episcopal service is to be used, or any other service in which the bride and bridegroom kneel, cushions for their use should be provided. these are usually covered in white satin, with outer covers of very sheer lawn upon which the initials may be worked. the floral decorations of the church or home should be subordinated to the main interest; that is, they should not be too elaborate, take up too much room, or do other than furnish a fitting background for the bridal couple. the decorations usually follow some definite color scheme, although simply the white flowers with green foliage are appropriate and symbolic for a church wedding. a few palms, simple bouquets of flowers arranged naturally and gracefully, with foliage to contrast and fill the corners, will decorate an altar or make a pleasant bower. when costliness rather than beauty is the effect of flowers, the display is vulgar. an awning should be stretched from the house or church door to the sidewalk, so that the guests and bridal party may not be subjected to the gaze of curious passers-by as they leave the carriages. an attendant should be stationed at the sidewalk to open the doors of the carriages, and to give to the coachmen and guests numbers by which their carriages may be speedily called. while the provision of the carriages belongs with all other things to the bride's family, the carriages for the bridegroom and his family are provided by them. chapter xii the conduct of a wedding in cities at present the most fashionable hour for the ceremony is "high noon," following the english custom, and in remembrance of the long-standing tradition which placed the wedding early in the day, before the night's fast had been broken. the afternoon is a suitable time, as it enables friends to gather more conveniently from the distance, and as the reception with refreshments is much more easily arranged for than is a breakfast. for an afternoon wedding, three o'clock is the proper hour in the winter, four o'clock in the summer. the evening was at one period the fashionable time, and it still retains its popularity and long will among the middle class of people and in the country, because a larger gathering of friends can be expected at that time, as all are free from business and household cares. _the church wedding_ for the church wedding special arrangements must be made for the seating of the guests. a certain number of pews in the center front of the church are reserved for the families and intimate friends of the bride and bridegroom. the reservation is indicated by a broad white ribbon barrier across the aisle, or a garland of flowers. the family of the bride is seated on one side of the aisle, and that of the bridegroom on the other. the ushers should be at the church at least a half-hour before the guests begin to arrive. they wear small buttonhole bouquets of flowers like those used in the decorations of the church, which are sent them there by the florist. in seating the guests they should take great care to seat in the reserved space only those whose names are on the list given them as belonging there. therefore, they ask the name of each guest whom they do not know before assigning him his seat. sometimes, however, each of these special guests is provided with a card which he gives to the usher. when a gentleman and lady enter the church together, the usher offers his right arm to the lady, and the gentleman follows them as they proceed down the aisle. when several ladies arrive together, the usher offers his arm to the eldest, and requests the others to follow as he conducts her to her seat. each usher asks of each guest whether he is friend of the bride or bridegroom, and seats him accordingly, upon the left of the church if a friend of the bride, upon the right if a friend of the groom. in case the bridegroom is from the distance, and therefore there are few of his friends present, this custom is not followed. immediately before the bridal party appears, the mother of the bride is escorted by the head usher to a seat in the front pew. any sisters or brothers of the bride who may not be in the bridal procession enter with their mother. meanwhile the bridal party has been gathering, the bridesmaids going to the home of the bride and there receiving from her their bouquets, which are the gift of the bridegroom. thence they take carriages to the church, where they all arrive at the hour set for the ceremony. when the first carriage arrives, containing two of the bridesmaids,--as the carriage of the bride and her father is the last,--the head usher closes the inner vestibule door, and the other ushers see that all entrance at side doors is barred. when the bride arrives the outer street doors are closed, and the procession forms. two of the ushers have already carried the broad white ribbon down the sides of the main aisle, thus shutting in the pews, and have taken down the ribbon barrier across it. the bridegroom and his best man have come in a carriage by themselves and entered the church by the vestry door. they and the clergyman await the notice of the bride's arrival. the organist, who has been playing appropriate selections while the guests were assembling, begins on the wedding march as the doors to the church are thrown open in signal that all is in readiness. the audience rises. the clergyman takes his place, and the bridgegroom and best man enter, the former standing at the clergyman's left, the latter just behind the bridegroom, who is facing the aisle down which the bride will come. first come the ushers, two and two, keeping pace with the time of the music, which is a stately, dignified march. the bridesmaids follow, also two and two, with about six feet of space between each couple. the maid of honor alone, or the maid and matron of honor together, then come. the flower girl, or flower children follow, scattering flowers from a basket hung upon the left arm. then come the bride and her father, or nearest male relative, she with downcast eyes and leaning upon his right arm. the procession divides as it reaches a spot opposite the place where the bride and bridegroom are to stand, or, in an episcopal church, the top of the chancel steps; half go to the right and half to the left. the bridesmaids stand between the ushers, all being grouped in a semicircle. the maid of honor stands at the left, in front of the bridesmaids and near the bride. the bridegroom advances to meet the bride, who leaves her father and takes the bridegroom's hand, then accepts his left arm and is escorted by him to a position in front of the clergyman. the couple kneel for a moment before the ceremony begins. at the place in the ceremony where the question is asked, "who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" the father, who has been standing a few feet back, advances and places the bride's right hand in that of the clergyman, who places it in the right hand of the bridegroom. the father then takes his seat in the front pew with his wife, whom, as they leave the church, he escorts. should a widowed mother be the only one to respond to this inquiry, she simply rises from her seat and bows. in such a case the bridegroom usually enters with the bride, and the procession is less elaborate. when the troth is being plighted and the ring is about to be given, the best man hands it to the bridegroom, who passes it to the bride. she hands it to the clergyman, who returns it to the bridegroom. then the latter places it upon the third finger of the bride's left hand. the significance of the passing of the ring is that it completes a circle, the symbol of eternity, of which the clergyman is one, thus symbolizing the sanction of the church. after the ceremony the clergyman congratulates the newly wedded couple, and the bride takes the right arm of her husband, walking thus down the aisle, the bridal party following in reverse order, the ushers therefore last. even at a stately church ceremonial it has been known for the bride to stop and kiss her mother before passing down the aisle. the duties of the maid of honor during the service are to take from the bride her glove and bouquet as the clergyman asks the bride and bridegroom to join hands. then it is her care to remove the veil from before the face of the bride when the ceremony is over, and to turn the train of her gown that it may fall rightly as she passes up the aisle. occasionally when there are two main aisles to the church, the bridal procession enters on the one amid the friends of the bride, and returns on that amid the friends of the groom, to signify that the bride has now become one of them. the best man follows the clergyman to the vestry, hands him the fee, if the groom had not before done so, and passes down the side aisle to signal for the bridal carriage, and to give the bridegroom his hat and coat. he then goes to the bride's house, where he assists the ushers in introducing the guests to the pair. the organist starts up a very joyous march at the conclusion of the ceremony, and continues playing while the guests are dispersing. following the bridal procession the families and intimate friends of the couple pass out before the audience, as the ribbon barriers which reserve the aisle are not taken down until all have passed out. if the reception is at the home, this gives the bridal party time to enter the carriages; if the reception is in the church parlors, it gives time for them to take their places in the receiving line. at the bride's home there is now time, before the guests arrive, for all of the bridal party to congratulate and felicitate the bride and bridegroom, and also to sign after them the register of the marriage, which is in the care of the best man. this is usually in the form of a book bound in white, with the initials of the bride and bridegroom embossed upon it, and opportunity is usually given for the wedding guests to add their signatures also. the bride's mother, who is the real hostess of the occasion, stands near the entrance of the room in which the reception is held. in a receiving line at the head of the room stand the bride and bridegroom with half of the bridesmaids ranged on the bride's right and the other half on the groom's left. the parents of the groom stand near and the father of the bride with them or with his wife, as host. the ushers present the guests to the bride and bridegroom, and then to their parents, as guests of honor. a few words of congratulation to the bridegroom and of best wishes to the bride are all that the few moments possible for each guest permit. the bride offers her hand to each guest, and presents to her husband her friends, as he does his to her. _the home wedding_ the home wedding may be made in every way quite as ideal as the church wedding, and is much more simple, its privacy appealing to many. the house will be decorated with flowers in good taste and not too great profusion. usually a canopy or bower of flowers and foliage is erected at the head of the drawing-room. this should not be too massive, as only a special grouping of the flowers is preferable to an arrangement which is too crowded or shaded. as the guests arrive the mother and sisters of the bride receive them. the father of the bride does not appear, nor, of course, does the bride, until they enter together. a room is placed at the disposal of the bridegroom, the best man, and the clergyman. at the stroke of the hour appointed, the clergyman enters and takes his stand facing the company. the bridegroom and best man also enter and stand at the left of the clergyman, the best man somewhat behind. as in a church wedding, the broad white ribbon is used to mark the aisle. if bouquets are attached to the ends of it, they will hold it in place. then from the farthest corner of the room enters the bridal procession, formed as for a church wedding. at a simple house wedding there are often no attendants, the bride and bridegroom entering the room together, the bride's father having taken his position near at hand, where he can readily respond at the right moment. another way of forming the procession, which has all the advantages of the more elaborate one, is for the best man to follow the ushers, then the one bridesmaid to enter immediately preceding the bride and bridegroom. music is often dispensed with at a home wedding. when the ceremony is over the clergyman congratulates the couple and withdraws, and they, turning, face their friends, who then come to wish them happiness. whether the wedding take place in the home or at the church, the bridal pageant has only one object in view,--it is wholly for the sake of the bridegroom. every woman desires to come to her husband in all the glory of her womanhood and of her social position. by all custom the bridegroom does not see his bride upon the wedding day until she approaches him as he stands at the altar. so, with her family doing her the utmost honor that they can, she comes to him, bringing all that she has and is, and placing herself and her future in his care. the coming is just as real, however, though the utmost simplicity prevail. back of all the minute detail of wedding custom there is a symbolism. with the constant elevation of the standards of marriage, this symbolism and these customs grow purer and more in accord with the ideals. just as it is always taken for granted that a marriage ceremony is uniting loving hearts, so little by little all that is at variance with that thought will drop away, as have already several minor details, and new forms and customs more in harmony with the new ideals take the place of the old. these changes, however, come very gradually, and should not be hastened, but should only keep pace with the new conceptions. nevertheless, there should not be too tenacious a clinging to the old forms, which expressed lower conceptions, when the masterly thought of the day is forging out higher and purer ideals of marriage. _the wedding breakfast_ the wedding breakfast is the name given to the refreshments which follow the noon wedding. it is usually given when there are but few relatives and intimate friends, because it is an expensive feast if large numbers are invited. it is really a dinner, served in courses, at numerous small tables, each with a complete dinner service. one large table, placed in the center of the room or elsewhere conspicuously, is reserved for the bridal party. the menu usually consists of "fruit, raw oysters, bouillon, fish or lobster in some fancy form, an entrée, birds and salad, ices, cakes, bonbons, and coffee," according to one recognized authority. or it may be much simpler, and include only oysters or bouillon, sandwiches and salad, ices, cakes, and coffee. usually some punch is served in which to pledge the bride and bridegroom. if wine is used, champagne is customary for weddings. the caterer usually supplies all the necessities for the wedding feast, even to china, linen, silver, candelabra, and flowers, should the bride's parents so wish. at the wedding reception, after the congratulations and greetings are over, and the breakfast is announced, the bride and bridegroom lead the way to the dining-room. then comes the bride's father with the groom's mother. the bridegroom's father follows with some member of the bride's family, then come the best man and the maid of honor. the ushers and bridesmaids pair off, and other members of the bridal party or of the two families follow in pairs. lastly, as hostess of the occasion, comes the bride's mother, with the officiating clergyman, or the senior and highest in rank of the clergymen, if there be more than one, as guest of honor. the rest of the guests, who are not seated at the bridal table, find their seats as they choose, with friends, no place cards being used. for an afternoon or evening reception the refreshments are served as for any reception. a large table in the dining-room is decorated with flowers and piled with the edibles, which are served by the waiters to the guests as they enter. the variety of food depends wholly upon the resources of the bride's parents and the size and elaborateness of the wedding. many prefer a simple repast as the hour is unusual for a meal, and a dinner is not to be served. when the bride and bridegroom enter and are served, the best man proposes a toast to their health and happiness, and all present stand, glass in hand, and pledge them. at a wedding breakfast the english custom is to have toasts and speeches, but it is not followed largely in this country. where it is, usually at a small wedding party, the father of the bridegroom or the best man proposes the health of the bride and bridegroom. the father of the bride responds. sometimes the bridegroom is called on to respond to this toast, which he does, proposing in turn the health of the bridesmaids. to this the best man responds. the wedding cake is a rich dark fruit cake, which is at its best only when made months in advance and kept in a stone crock well covered. this is finely frosted and ornamented. at the close of the wedding breakfast the wedding cake is set before the bride, who cuts the first slice from it. it is then passed to the others. at a large wedding, where no breakfast is served, the wedding cake is usually cut into small pieces and placed in white boxes, which are decorated with the initials of the bride and bridegroom and are tied with white ribbon. these are placed upon a table in the hall near the door and the guests either each take one as he leaves, or one is handed him by a servant. sometimes a part of the wedding cake is put away in a tin box and sealed, to be opened by the couple on some future anniversary. the wedding cake is distinct from the bride's cake, which may be served by the latter at a dinner to her bridesmaids a day or more before the wedding, and in which a thimble, a coin, and a ring are hidden. the superstition is that the young women who by chance receive the slices containing these are respectively destined for a future of single blessedness, wealth, or domestic bliss. at a reception the larger number of the guests depart before the bridal couple go to the dining-room. as soon as refreshments are served them, and the toast to them has been drunk, they retire to don suits for traveling. the bridegroom waits for the bride at the foot of the staircase, and the bridesmaids gather there too, as when she comes, she throws her bridal bouquet among them, and the bridesmaid who catches it will be the next bride, according to an old superstition. as the outer door is opened to let the couple out, all the friends and relatives present throw flowers or confetti or rice after them, for good luck, and an old white slipper is thrown after the carriage as they drive off. the custom of thus showering the departing couple has been sometimes carried to such an extreme that many refrain from it. rice is somewhat dangerous, and confetti is so distinctive as frequently to cause embarrassment when in a public train or station. flowers may appropriately be used, and are always at hand in the decorations of the home. _the wedding journey_ the wedding journey is the bride and bridegroom's affair, and the knowledge of it is kept their secret and divulged only to the best man, who probably helps arrange for it, and to the father and mother of the bride, and they all are silent about it. the intrusion of even intimate friends upon such a trip is not considered good form. the custom of taking a journey at this time is not so rigidly observed as it used to be, many young couples preferring to go direct to their new home, or to a quiet country house for the honeymoon. the real wishes of the couple should be followed out at this time, because they are now more free from social obligations than they will be later, and a wise start upon married life is of all things most desirable and necessary. _wedding fee_ the fee should be placed in an envelope or purse, and given to the clergyman by the best man or some friend of the bridegroom, just before or just after the ceremony, as may be most convenient. it is sometimes handed to the clergyman by the bridegroom at the close of the ceremony and before the couple turn away from the altar. it should be always given quietly, privately, and with no display or comment. the clergyman does not examine the fee or comment upon it, other than indicating his acceptance. the size of the fee is a matter of individual taste. because it is unostentatiously given, its size is known only to the bridegroom and the clergyman, and to none others unless they wish to tell. there are some people in fashionable circles who employ a minister only at marriages and funerals, and who labor under the impression that they are objects of charity and that by them even the small favor is always thankfully received. no one thing so denotes the degree of real refinement in a man as the fee he offers the clergyman for marrying him. the clergyman is one of the three principals in the marriage ceremony. the great majority of brides desire that their marriage should have the sanction and benediction of the religious body with which they worship, or which has standing in their community and among their people. at the very least, in the civil marriage, without a third party to represent either church or state a marriage ceremony and therefore a legalized marriage is impossible. the third principal is therefore an important part of the affair. to treat him shabbily in any way denotes no real appreciation of his presence. so it is that the true gentleman is as willing to give a handsome fee to him, if his means permit it, as he is to give to his bride something which shall delight and please her, and which shall symbolize his appreciation of the gift of herself. the bridegroom's offering to the clergyman is indeed the touchstone of his refinement. wedding fees vary from five to a thousand dollars, the usual amount being twenty-five dollars for the fairly affluent. _wedding presents_ so extreme has become the custom of sending wedding presents that it is perhaps necessary to remind those who really desire to do the correct thing, that a perfunctory service, or gift, or courtesy has no intrinsic value, and the omission of it would often be far more satisfactory than its bestowal. the usual form of wedding gift is something of use and ornament for the new house. silver, linen, cut glass, or china for the dining-room, furniture, rugs, lamps, clocks, vases, books, and pictures, or bric-a-brac for the rest of the house, are all appropriate. if silver is given, it should not be marked, as the bride may have duplicates and prefer to exchange some pieces for others, or as she may have a special form of engraving which she prefers. the exchange of a gift, however, removes from it the personal thought of the giver, and makes its acceptance more a matter of mercenary than of friendly interest. if, however, such exchange is made at the suggestion or with the approval of the giver, it still remains a personal gift. the indefinite way in which many people choose wedding gifts for their friends, following only the conventional ideas of what is suitable, has taken a great deal of personal interest from the gift at the very first. the wedding gift should be a real gift in spirit, something expressive of the giver's good wishes, and something which the bride and bridegroom can enjoy and appreciate for its worth to them. foolish things, whether expensive or not, have no real utility or beauty, and have always the atmosphere of insult about them, or else always reflect upon the intelligence of the giver. a bride should acknowledge all gifts as soon as they are received, and before her wedding day if possible. spontaneous rather than stereotyped notes of thanks are preferable. they should show appreciation of the gift, and include the name of the bridegroom-elect in her expression of their gratitude. a bride should remember that too elaborate notes, which are a grave tax on her strength or time in the busy days preceding a wedding, are unwise, as is any other unnecessary expenditure of energy. it is never obligatory to send a wedding present. the wedding announcement and wedding invitation are equally suggestive of such gifts, for in either case, whether one is invited to the ceremony or not, one is perfectly free to do as he pleases about conferring a gift. _the country wedding_ there is an especial attractiveness and simplicity about the out-door wedding in the country, for those who desire to get rid of the conventional and artificial. such a wedding is, of course, a day wedding. the late afternoon might be chosen, but the twilight never. the weather must be warm. a secluded corner in the garden, the shade of some stately tree on the lawn, or the flowery seclusion of some orchard tree make attractive chancels for the ceremony. the grass should be cut close, and all leaves and débris swept away. somewhat removed from the place of the ceremony, but still on the lawn or piazza, small tables and chairs may be placed in groups, and refreshments served out of doors also. the simplicity and homelike yet solemn atmosphere of a wedding in a country church appeal to many. there much of the formality of a city church wedding may be dispensed with, and yet the whole of the religious spirit, which should attend a church wedding, and indeed any wedding, be retained. the country church lends itself more aptly to those private weddings where the bridal party, whether small or large, are the only spectators, than does the large city church. the sense of exclusiveness is preserved without the great sense of bareness and emptiness. to many the private church wedding appeals with great force. the religious and sacramental nature of the ceremony is emphasized, without the pomp and display of the public service. such a wedding usually takes place in the daytime rather than in the evening. chapter xiii etiquette for children one may be taught self-restraint and unselfish consideration for others at so early an age that such virtues become habitual, and minor maxims are to a large extent unnecessary. of course, the child will still have to be shown the various ways in which he can show consideration, but he will quite frequently do of himself those acts which make for the comfort and well-being of others. habits of deference to elders spring from more complex motives, and the training in them may have to be more persistent and rigorous. boys should be taught to take off their caps to their elders, both in the family and in the circle of friends, when they meet them on the street. they should rise when ladies enter the room, and remain standing until all are seated. an important part in a child's bringing up is to teach him to put away his own garments and to clear up after his play or work. if this is instilled early into the child, there will never be any need of the pain of counteracting slovenliness, and also never any of that disagreeable haughtiness toward servants, which is fostered by nothing so much as by the inch-by-inch waiting upon a child. the child who has been made a companion of, and not repressed or driven away by the older people of the family, has a sort of instinctive respect for them, which, though it may overstep itself in some daring familiarity occasionally, is the basis of a strong authority over him. the child who has been spied on, and whose idea of all adults is that they are a sort of modified policemen, will show respect only under compulsion, and will fail in all those fine courtesies which the thoroughly well-bred child grows to delight in. self-control and self-repression are equal virtues to be cultivated in the child. to permit the child to be indifferent and inattentive when one is trying to amuse or entertain, to be impatient to get at the end of a story or a game, to keep yawning; or making other expressions of weariness when being reproved or reprimanded, cultivates in the child a mental laziness which is as bad as its opposite,--parrot-like facility for chattering and asking questions, which gives a child no chance to think, and makes him develop into a man of only surface intelligence and thoughtless flippancy. even a child can appreciate, if rightly taught, the motive back of a kind action, and can respect that even if the action does not interest him. on the other hand, it is a serious matter to allow a child to be constantly bored with lectures on his conduct, or even with efforts to amuse him. he should be let alone, thrown upon his own resources, and not permitted to be taxed beyond adult endurance by well-meaning but futile efforts on his behalf. children should never be allowed to interrupt. for that reason parents, and those who have the care of children, should remember not to monopolize the conversation when there are children present, nor talk on and on for a long time, as no person, least of all a child, can follow such continuous talk without weariness. children should be taught that thinking will answer most of their questions for them, that they should wait and see if the answer will not be given by something that is said later on. every effort made to drive the thought of a loquacious child back upon itself is an effort in the right direction; just as every effort made to express and reveal the thought of an imaginative child is much to the latter's benefit. the sayings of a child should never be quoted in his presence, nor his doings related. he becomes hopelessly self-conscious thereby. a child should be taught to respect the rights of the father and mother to the easiest chairs in the room, or those which they may prefer, and should leave those chairs vacant until the father and mother are seated elsewhere. the boy who has been brought up at home, both by precept and by his father's example, never to seat himself at the dining table or in the family sitting-room until his mother is seated, will not need to be told that he should rise in a crowded street car and give his seat to an elderly woman. he will do it so instinctively that it will not be a burden,--indeed, the regret would be more keen if he could not do it. if children are present at the dining table, it is wiser to help them first, and the grown people last, than the reverse. in everything it is well to follow the etiquette of adult life, as, for instance, by helping the girls before the boys. children should be taught to be punctual at meals, not simply for the sake of health, but out of consideration for the cook and for those who might otherwise be obliged to wait for them. they should not be allowed to hurry through a meal because of their impatience to get at play, although they may be wisely excused when they are quite through. there is no value in making them the bored, squirming, or subdued listeners to conversation quite beyond their comprehension or interest. they should be taught to eat leisurely, and to regard the mealtime as a chance to talk with their parents about interesting things, and not simply as a time to be shortened and slighted if possible. usually the child's first rigid lesson in punctuality comes at the beginning of school life. then, most profitably, may be cultivated a sense of the rights of others, and of his individual responsibility toward the social group, represented for him by his teacher and schoolmates. if the emphasis is rightly laid upon the necessity of his not delaying the work of his classmates and teacher, he will naturally find many ways in which he may apply the same thought, greatly to his own advantage and to theirs as well, and to the permanent strengthening of his habits of work. a keen sense of social oneness may also prevent the too frequent heart-burnings among shy and sensitive children. this is as easily cultivated as is the opposite, and is of great importance both in childhood and in later life. the seeming injustice of the teacher may often be made clear, and seen to be just, when the welfare of the whole school is taken into consideration. this is a matter of the natural enlargement of the child's mental horizon, and if the proper spirit has been fostered, the child will welcome it. should it be done carefully and wisely, the roots of many social weeds will at once be eliminated. fault-finding should be discouraged in school and at home. it is never the best method of fault correction, and should not be countenanced. the bringing home of tales of the teacher and of schoolmates, in a spirit of complaint, should not be permitted. pleasant accounts of happenings at school should be encouraged, but grumbling against rules, as well as personal gossip, should not be permitted. the authority of the home must support the authority of the school or the child will nowhere receive that discipline and training which he needs in order to meet the experiences of life. the child should be allowed a certain sum of money, which, even in the most lavish homes, should be a little under what the wants of the child require. the giving of this money should be done regularly at a stated time, and there should never be any extra giving, or increase of the usual sum, except under very unusual circumstances, which should not be allowed to happen more than once a year. the child should also be held accountable for his money. if he is old enough to have any money, or to spend any, he is old enough to tell how he spent it, even to the last penny. unless all is accounted for, the habits of accuracy and care are not formed. the record of this should be written down, even if done very simply and without special form, and later, as the child grows older, more conventional forms of bookkeeping should be required. it should be also required that there be some saving, which is preferably a certain proportion of the whole, this for a beginning to which to add extra sums as the child may wish. this saved sum should be permanently put by, and drawing from it should not be permitted. it may be transferred to a bank at long intervals, always by the child himself, and his pride in doing it and keeping it there should be cultivated. these matters may all be made a game and sheer fun. their grave importance is apparent on every hand. for the child which has been taught early to do these things, will do them with such ease as to make it seem instinctive, and the child who does it will never, under any ordinary circumstances, come to want. the proper behavior in church should be taught rather by trying to inculcate the spirit of worship than by making rules to be followed. a child is very susceptible to impressiveness of any sort, and if the reason for it is made clear to him, he will be quicker to respond to it by a reverent attitude of spirit than does an older person. even the obstreperous child is at least temporarily impressed, if he sees that others are, and if he knows the reason for it. children should realize that it is their privilege and duty to serve guests, whether their own or their parents. the sacrifice of one's own comfort for the sake of the guest takes, with a child, the form of a sort of play, usually because of the excitement of the arrival of a stranger, and the possibilities of fun in the enjoyment of the stranger's stay. the child should be taught respect for the guest's person, and should not be allowed to take the same liberties with a gown or a glove that sometimes the mother or aunts permit, no matter how great the novelty of the texture or how it appeals to the child's sense of beauty. the privileges of being a guest should be always duly respected, and the child be thus taught at once his duty as a host and his position as a guest. children should never be allowed to play with a visitor's hat or cane, or handle furniture or ornaments in a strange house, or show by ill-mannerly conduct the curiosity which a child, in unaccustomed surroundings, naturally feels. they can be taught so great a respect for the possessions of others that they would become able to stifle their curiosity, or express it only at a fitting time. children should not be sent to the drawing-room to entertain visitors, unless the visitors request it themselves. nor should they be allowed to be troublesome to visitors or guests at any time, any more than servants should be allowed to be insolent. they should never be allowed the freedom of the rooms of the guests, nor to visit them often or long. children should not be permitted to enter into the pleasures of their elders when, to do so, would be to spoil the kind of sociability for which the occasion was intended. at all formal functions, children are out of place. when making formal calls, children are usually in the way, and the silent part they are forced to play is disagreeable for them. they are also out of place at a funeral, or in a cemetery, or anywhere that there is mourning. it is an injury to a child to see grief,--unless it be his great concern, and in that case it is no longer a matter of etiquette, but of necessary life experience. children should not dine out except by special invitation. it is as discourteous to permit a child thoughtlessly to inconvenience a neighbor, as it is wrong for the child to think that such uninvited visits are permissible. a child should be taught never to touch what does not belong to it, except with the express permission of the owner. this applies to goods in a store, as well as to the furniture of places other than his home, and to the belongings of others in his home. a child should not be allowed to intrude into a drive, a walk, a call, or a conversation. it is unfair to the child, and awkward for him, and is no kindness, as it takes away the benefit which he might otherwise derive from the pleasure either by continually snubbing his self-respect, or by repressing his energy and curiosity to the danger point. children should not be allowed to go to picnic parties, unless they have been invited and entertainment prepared for them. children should be taught to treat servants with all the politeness with which they treat their elders, and with much more consideration. the converse of the servants with children should be of the same careful and pleasant quality that the best parents use and desire. this may well be insisted upon. on the other hand, the children should be taught that servants are busy people, that they should never be imposed upon, and that unnecessary work should not be made for them. chapter xiv etiquette of mourning upon the occasion of a death in the family a reliable undertaker is at once notified and his suggestions followed as to the necessary preparations to be made for the funeral. the shades are drawn throughout the front of the house, as a sign that the family is in retirement. the women of the family are not seen upon the street unless necessary, the men taking full charge of all business matters. the directions which the undertaker desires should be decided upon by the family, or nearest relative of the deceased, and then some one member of the family should be delegated to see that they are carried out. palm leaves tied with ribbon or chiffon, spray bouquets of white flowers tied with ribbon, an ivy wreath broken with a bunch of purple everlasting, are much preferred to crape upon the door. press notices of the funeral and death should be sent to the newspapers. the conduct of the funeral should be arranged with the clergyman chosen to officiate, the superintendent of the cemetery consulted (usually through the undertaker), and the notes of request sent to those chosen to act as pallbearers. sometimes the latter are purely honorary, the undertaker furnishing the bearers. the honor is usually given to intimate family friends, or close business associates in case of a business man. a carriage is always provided for the clergyman, and he is entitled to a fee, although clergymen do not charge it, either at a home or church funeral. if the service is held at a church, the sexton, organist and singers,--and the singers at a home funeral as well,--are entitled to recompense for their services. carriages are sent for the pallbearers, and are also provided to convey the family, and as many of the friends as may be invited to go, to the cemetery. one may announce in the newspaper "burial private," in which case it is understood that only the family attend at the grave; or "no flowers" if the family wish the usual sending of flowers dispensed with. the clergyman usually consults the wishes of the family as to the form of service, the hymns or music, and remarks. the funeral service should be brief, and preferably a ritual service with no sermon or eulogy. the last are usually harrowing to the feelings of the mourners, and there should be every reasonable effort made to relieve the tension of the occasion, for the sake of the living. at a church funeral the pallbearers sit in the first pews at the left of the center aisle; the family in those to the right. at a home funeral it is customary to have the family in some secluded room near the one where the coffin is placed and to have the clergyman stand in the hall between, or at the entrance of the drawing-room, where he may be readily heard by all. if the service at the grave immediately follows the funeral the house should meanwhile be aired, the shades lifted, the flowers all sent away to some hospital, and the rooms arranged in the usual way. before a funeral at the home, it is necessary for some member of the family to receive the relatives from the distance, and the very intimate friends, and see that they are given necessary refreshment, and their return to trains, if they must leave immediately after the funeral, thoroughly understood by the hackmen. at a home funeral the singers should be somewhat distant from the family, so that the music is not loud. the members of the family are dressed in hats and veils ready to enter the carriages, before the service. they pass to view the body,--if, according to a former custom, the casket is left open,--last of all, and enter the last carriage before that of the pallbearers, which immediately precedes the hearse. in sending flowers to a funeral, one's card is enclosed. there should be no slightest sense of obligation in the sending of flowers, and each piece should represent only real sympathy or respect. the putting on of black garments as a sign that one has lost a near relative has been much modified by the good sense of the people, and the period of mourning shortened, especially in england. in stating the accepted mourning custom, the moderate observance of it has been given, both extremes being ignored. crape is the quality of goods most closely allied with mourning. black dresses trimmed with black crape are usually worn for the first few months by women who have lost a near relative. the black veil worn by widows is now of moderate length, and usually not of the very thick material which was once in vogue. a ruche of white is now placed just inside the bonnet, which relieves the black effect somewhat. black furs and sealskins are worn with mourning. the english fashion of six months of the deepest mourning and six months of secondary is meeting with more and more approval in this country, although for a close relative a year is the first period and six months the second. one who is in mourning does not appear in society for the first six months; after that it is permissible to attend a concert or musical, but not the theater or a reception while severe mourning is worn. during the mourning period, black-bordered stationery is used. the border on paper and envelopes is usually three-eighths of an inch for a close relative and half that for a more distant one, or during the secondary period of mourning, if one cares to make the change. the personal visiting card has a black border during this time. the handkerchief is bordered with narrow black, or is of narrow-bordered, plain, sheer linen. for relatives-in-law it is not customary to put on black, although for a father- or mother-in-law it is customary, in the best society, to dress nearly as for an own father or mother. a widower wears a complete suit of black, white linen, dull-black silk neckties, dull-black leather shoes, black gloves, and a black ribbon of broader width upon his hat. the mourning band sewed upon the coat sleeve is a discredited form of mourning. it does not denote the nearness of the loss, and has only the virtue of cheapness for those who cannot afford to show marked respect to the dead. men do not observe the custom of withdrawing from society for as long a time as do the women, but usually reappear at the homes of intimate friends, at public places of entertainment, and at the club after two or three months. as long as the mourning band is worn upon the hat, however, no man should attend large and fashionable functions, as dinner or dancing parties, or the theater. after six months a woman may resume calling, returning the calls of those who called upon her in the early weeks of her bereavement. children of fifteen years of age and under should not wear mourning. the viewing of the body of the deceased as it lies in the casket is the privilege of only the family and the immediate friends, and should not be requested by others. therefore, the casket is now usually closed before the funeral service, especially if that be at a church. in case of a man in public office, it is sometimes necessary that the body should lie in state for certain hours, when the public may pay their respects. punctuality is very necessary in regard to everything connected with a funeral service, as the overwrought nerves of those who are sorrowing should not be taxed to bear any extra tension. within ten days after the funeral, a card of thanks for sympathy should be sent to all who have called upon the family or sent flowers or offered their services in any way. when one is in mourning, one does not attend a wedding reception, though one may be present at the ceremony. black should not be worn. mourners announce their return to society by sending out their cards to friends and acquaintances. chapter xv military, naval, and flag etiquette the social usage in respect to military or naval officers follows ordinarily the customs of formal occasions or occasions of state in civilian life, or is provided for in the instructions of the army and the navy, which the members of those two departments of the service would alone be expected to know. there are, however, one or two occasions where the etiquette of social life is, or may be, modified by the formalities due to these representatives of the government. _the formal military wedding_ the church or formal home wedding where the bridegroom and his attendants are all army men, may have the distinctive feature of the arch of swords or bayonets. the bridegroom and the ushers, in that case, are all in full dress uniform. the bride and bridesmaids are dressed daintily and fluffily to afford contrast. the church should be decorated with palms and lilies, and with the national and the regimental flags in the chancel. as the organist begins the wedding-march, two color-bearers of the regiment, carrying one the national flag and the other the regimental colors, precede the bridegroom and the best man from the vestry. the latter take their usual places, and the color-bearers move to a position at either side of the chancel steps. after the ceremony, they move to the head of the aisle, and the ushers form a line to the foot of the chancel steps. the ushers then put on their caps, unsheathe their swords, or raise their bayonets, and form an arch with them. under this arch pass the bride and bridegroom, and the bridesmaids. then, sheathing their swords and removing their caps, the ushers fall into line at the end of the procession. _naval and yachting usage_ when one is the guest of the owners or the officers of a yacht, or of the officers of a government warship or other large vessel, it is well to know that in the lading of the gig for reaching and leaving the ship, the order of precedence is always as follows: juniors in rank or official importance enter the gig first, and the one highest in rank immediately precedes the captain, who is always the last to embark and the first to disembark. in leaving the gig, the order is reversed from that on entering it, the junior in rank thus being the last to leave the boat. _the etiquette of the flag_ the flag is displayed every day only on government buildings and schoolhouses. on state holidays, and like commemorative days when it is customary for the flag to be displayed on private buildings, it should be raised at sunrise and lowered at sunset. it should not be displayed on stormy days, nor left out over night. it should never be allowed to touch the ground. when it is to be displayed at half-mast only, it should be raised to the tip of the staff and then lowered halfway. it should never be festooned or draped, but always be hung flat. on memorial day, may , the flag should be displayed at half-mast until twelve o'clock noon, and then raised to the top of the staff until sunset. the salute for the changing of the position of the flag at all army posts and stations having artillery, is as follows: immediately before noon, the band plays some appropriate air, and at the stroke of twelve the national salute of twenty-one guns is fired. after this the flag is hoisted to the peak of the staff, while everybody stands at attention, with hand raised to the forehead ready for the salute. when the colors reach the top, the salute is given, and the band plays patriotic airs. the salute to the flag is used at its formal raising, and when it passes on parade or in review. the hand salute according to the regulations of the united states army is as follows: "standing at attention, raise the right hand to the forehead over the right eye, palm downward, fingers extended and close together, arm at an angle of forty-five degrees. move hand outward about a foot, with a quick motion then drop to the side. when the colors are passing on parade or in review, the spectator should, if walking, halt, if sitting, arise, and stand at attention and uncover." in schools two forms of salute are taught. the first, for primary children, is: "we give our heads and our hearts to god and our country; one country, one land, one flag." the second, for all other pupils, is: "i pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands: one nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." when the flag is carried on parade, it is dipped in salute to the official who is reviewing the parade. whenever the flag is displayed with other flags,--whether the colors of a regiment or other military organization, or of alien nations,--it should be placed, or carried, or crossed, at the right of the other flag or flags. when portrayed in illustrations by any process or for any purpose, it is so pictured that the staff will always be at the left and the fabric will float to the right. the chief regulations governing the composition of the flag are as follows: in the _field_ of the flag there should be thirteen horizontal stripes, alternating red and white, the first and the last stripes red. these stripes represent the thirteen original colonies. the colors red and white were chosen by george washington, the red from the flag of england, the mother country, broken by the white, symbolizing liberty, to show the separation. the _union_ of the flag--white stars on a field of blue--should be seven stripes high, and about seven-tenths of the height of the flag in length. "the stars should have five points, with one point directly upward."[a] the stars symbolize the states. "by an act of congress on october , , the flag now has forty-eight stars, arranged in six horizontal rows of eight each." the end footnote: [a] turkington, "my country": chapter xxiii, "our flag." index abbreviations, , , absent-mindedness, acceptances, accidents at table, accounts for children, , acknowledgment of wedding gifts, addresses on cards, ; on envelopes, - , ; on invitations, , addressing: the president of the united states, , ; vice president, ; members of the cabinet, ; ambassadors, , ; governors, ; mayors, ; the king of england, ; dukes, ; the pope, ; bishops and archbishops, , ; strangers, , ; married women, addressing wedding invitations, after-dinner speeches, afternoon tea, afternoon teas for the engaged girl, allowances for children, , amusement, places of, - , anger, anniversaries, announcement of engagement, - ; by newspaper notice, ; by personal note, announcements: engagement, , - ; birth, , ; death, , ; marriage, ; postponements, , answering letters, apology, , appearance, personal, , applauding, art of being a guest, the, - "at home" days, , "at home" invitations of bridal couple, , attitude toward strangers, , , balls, "bal poudre" invitations, beauty, , begging pardon, , , behavior in church, , ; public, - best man, duties of, , - , , , birth announcements, , birthday anniversaries, blank invitation, the, , bow, the, manner of, , ; significance of, - breakfasts, , ; dress at, , ; menu of, ; wedding, - bridal party: at rehearsal, ; at "showers" and dinners, - ; at church, bridal procession, formation of, , , ; at a church wedding, , ; at a home wedding, bridal "showers," - bridal veil, bridegroom's duties at ceremony, - ; preparation of a home, ; share of expense of wedding, ; wedding outfit, , bridesmaid, duties of a, , - business acquaintances, business cards, business, etiquette of, , business introductions by correspondence, business letters, , , business meetings, business training of a wife, business women, social life of, , cake: wedding, ; bridal, calling upon one person, ; a guest, calls: after entertainment, , ; by men, ; first, , ; formal, ; friendly, , ; obligations of, , ; upon brides, ; clergymen, ; government officials in washington, ; newcomers, ; people of note, ; return of, , ; time of, candles, use of, card, the personal, - ; form of, , ; form of name on, , ; inscription of, - ; titles on, , , ; use of, - ; after change of residence, ; announcing a birth, , ; announcing a departure, ; leaving, , , ; of sympathy, ; of congratulation, ; presenting at calls, , , ; when visiting or traveling, , cards, place, carriages for wedding, , ; for funeral, casual meetings, - chaperon, duties of the, - ; necessity of, ; in public, , ; at calls, , ; with the engaged couple, ; for the débutante, ; relations with one's, , ; at a dancing party, , character, children, etiquette for, - ; and mourning, ; and servants, , ; and visitors, , ; at the dining table, ; in church, church, attendance, ; behavior in, , ; of children, church weddings, public, , ; private, ; invitations, - cleanliness, club dinners or receptions, , club invitations, club officers, conclusions of letters, , coffee, service of, condolence, letters of, , ; acknowledgment, , congratulations, conformity to custom, congresses, guests at, consideration on the part of a guest, - convalescence, conversation, , - ; at table, , correspondence, - correspondence cards, country, entertainment in the, - ; parties, , country wedding, , , courses at formal dinner, , courtesy, , , , , , , ; to servants, , , , ; to nurse and doctor, ; to invalids, cutlery, arrangement of, dancing parties, , , ; invitations, - daylight, use of, deaf persons, debate, , débutante and the chaperon, , decorations for wedding, deference to elders, dessert, service of, , dinners, - ; announcement of, ; choice of guests, ; conversation at, , ; formal, , ; invitations to, , ; lighting of, ; menu of, , ; place cards for, ; retiring from, ; seating guests at, , , ; service of, , ; table-setting for, , discipline, , dress, , , , , , , - dress for men: afternoon, , ; early breakfast, ; formal breakfast, ; evening, , ; at weddings, , dress for women: at home, ; ball, ; church, , ; dinner, , , , , ; formal breakfast, ; house party, ; luncheon, ; mourning, ; traveling, , ; visiting, ; wedding, - ; as business woman, ; as hostess, ; as housewife, ; as milliner, driving, , duties of host and hostess, - emerson, iv engaged couple, the: at a dancing party, ; at home, ; duties to friends, ; in society, - ; meeting each other's friends, , engagement announcements, - engagement, the broken, - ; announcement of, , ; explanation of, engagements: punctuality, , ; punctiliousness in keeping, english customs of entertainment, , engraved invitation, the, - ; stock of, , ; type of, , , ; size of, , entering a room, entertainment, assisting in, , ; english customs of, ; for guests, , ; in the country, entertainment committees, duties of, envelopes, ; addressing, , , , , ; sealing, ; stamping, ethics, etiquette, an art, ; the end of, iii; the need of, iii, ; the rewards of, - etiquette of mourning, - etiquette of the marriage engagement, the, - family etiquette, - faults among women, fees, festivities, rural, finger bowls, first calls, , five o'clock tea, forms of wedding invitations, , ; announcements, , ; reception cards, , ; bridal "at home" cards, , ; personal cards, - ; dinner invitations, ; reception, ; "at home," , , ; party, ; new year, forms of announcements of postponement, , ; gratitude for sympathy, friends, , - general rules of conduct, - gifts, , , ; engagement, , ; for "showers," - ; of bridegroom to bride, ; of bridegroom to ushers and bridesmaids, ; to servants, ; wedding, - giving away the bride, gloves, , golden rule, good-night formalities, ; at a reception, ; dancing party, ; dinner, graduations, , greeting guests at a luncheon, ; dinner, ; reception, greetings, , - guest chamber, , guest, the art of being a, - , guest: at afternoon tea, , ; a congress, etc., , ; country house, ; dancing party, ; reception, ; wedding, , , guests, tardiness of, handshaking, , , , handwriting, haughtiness, home, founding the, - home wedding, the, - ; invitations, horseback riding, , hospitality, , - hotel etiquette, , , - ; dining-room civility, - ; dress in, house parties, , ; sports at, household management, host, duties of, , - hostess, duties of, , illness, , impartiality, informality in entertaining, ink, inscriptions on cards, - interruptions, , introduction, letters of, - ; advisability of, for business, ; socially, , ; presentation of, ; obligations of, introductions, - , ; at chance meetings, ; at a dancing party, , , , ; at a dinner, , ; by a guest, ; by a hostess, , ; discrimination in, ; form of, ; of a gentleman to a lady, , , ; responses to, ; responsibility for, ; to one's relatives, invitations (_see_ "engraved invitation, the"); for dinner and dance, ; entertainment at club, ; formal, - ; informal, , ; of widower, , ; bachelor, , ; widower with daughters, ; to call, ; to "bal poudre," ; dancing or other parties, ; dinners, ; luncheons, ; receptions, , , ; "showers," ; visits, ; weddings, - ; to meet a guest, , ; to meet a son, ; to mourners, invitations, written, , ; acceptances of, ; replies to, jewelry, kant, letter writing, ; discretion in, , letters: conclusion of, ; of classic literature, ; of condolence, , ; of introduction, - ; of recommendation, ; opening those of others, ; opening, in company, ; salutation of, - ; signature of, - ; to servants, ; to strangers, ; giving orders, letter-heads, , lifting the hat, , , , linen, for dinner, ; trousseau, , luncheon, , ; menu of, ; dress at, maid of honor, duties of, , management of household, mannerisms, manners, marriage, , ; ceremony, , ; certificate, ; customs, ; license, ; obligations of, - men's cards, ; club name on, ; form of, ; inscription on, ; omission of address, ; titles on, , , monograms, monopoly of conversation, ; in friendship, , morals, mourning, dress of, - ; etiquette of, - ; periods of, ; stationery of, music at a wedding, , , neatness, , , neglect of family, , nichols, dr. t. l., , title-page non-acknowledgment of courtesies, notes, apologetic ; congratulatory, ; requesting a favor, ; social, , ; sympathetic, , obligations of letters of introduction, old english type, - openings, formal business, out-door weddings, paper for correspondence, parents: consideration for, ; consulting, ; duties of, , ; negligence of, party invitations, , , penmanship of invitations, personal card, the, - personality, - picnics, , place cards, , plates, service of, position, ; at table, posture, , "p. p. c." cards, presentation of letters of introduction, presents: birthday, ; graduation, ; to the ill, ; wedding, , - press notices, of engagements, ; funerals, , privacy, professional cards, proposal of marriage, - ; by letter, ; decision of, ; spontaneity of, ; warding off, public behavior in, - public functions, - punctuality, , , , , ; at church, ; at funerals, ; for children, , receiving, at an afternoon tea, ; dancing party, ; débutante party, reception, guest at, , receptions, , ; business openings, ; college or school, ; club, recommendation, letters of, rehearsal for wedding, rejection of proposals, removing hats in public places, , replies to business letters, ; friendly letters, ; letters of introduction, ; notes of invitation, reply requests, reverence, riding dress, "r. s. v. p.," rural festivities, sacrifices, , salutations, ; of letters, - savings banks for children, school behavior, , script type, - sealing envelopes, seating guests at table, , , self-consciousness, self-control, , , send-off of bridal couple, servants, , ; and children, ; in the country, service of a dinner, - shaded roman type, - "showers," bridal, - signatures, - simplicity in the country, - sincerity, , social introductions by correspondence, - social calls of men, - social life of the married, speech, , speeches, after-dinner, ; at wedding breakfast, stamping envelopes, stationery for mourning, , stock of invitations, , strangers, addressing, , ; attitude toward, , , - , street etiquette, , , sympathy cards, table etiquette, - ; for children, third-person letters, time of wedding, tips, titles on cards, , , training of servants, traveling, , ; dress, ; expense, trousseau, - type of invitations, - unselfishness, use of cards, - ushers, at wedding, duties of, - , visits, - ; being entertained, , , ; dress, ; entertainment, , , , ; length, ; prolonging, wardrobe of bride, - ; of bridegroom, wedding, anniversaries, , ; breakfast, - ; cake, , ; fee, - ; invitations, - ; journey, ; preparation for, - ; presents, - ; reception, , ; ring, ; suit for bridegroom, , ; wardrobe of bride, - whispering, , withdrawal from society during mourning, , , writing on cards, * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors repaired. this text uses both out-door and outdoor. this was retained. page viii, "person" changed to "person" (third-person correspondence) page , "letter" changed to "letter" (dead-letter office) etiquette by agnes h. morton author of "letter writing," "quotations," &c. good manners for all people, especially for those "who dwell within the broad zone of the average" (revised edition) philadelphia the penn publishing company copyright, , by the penn publishing company contents introduction i. ethics of etiquette ii. visiting cards the office of the visiting card. style of cards. the engraving of visiting cards.-- cards for men; cards for women; cards for young women; after marriage cards. the use of the visiting card.-- calling in person; card-leaving in lieu of personal calls; cases in which personal card-leaving is required; cards by messenger or by post; card-leaving by proxy. some further illustrations of card usage. iii. ceremonious cards and invitations. etiquette of replies. the "high tea," or musicale, etc. wedding invitations. dinner invitations. luncheon and breakfast invitations. iv. the conduct of a church wedding v. entertaining vi. afternoon receptions and teas vii. the dinner service requisites for the dining-table. the formal arrangement of the dinner-table. the arrival of guests, meanwhile. the announcement of dinner. the serving of the dinner. miscellaneous points. dinner-table talk. informal dinners. viii. luncheons ix. suppers x. breakfasts xi. evening parties xii. the twentieth century xiii. "the stranger that is within thy gates" xiv. "make yourself at home" xv. "as the twig is bent" xvi. social young america xvii. the american chaperone xviii. greetings. recognitions. introductions xix. behavior in public thoroughfares xx. in public assemblies xxi. bearing and speech xxii. self-command xxiii. a few points on dress xxiv. personal habits xxv. social co-operation xxvi. on the wing xxvii. etiquette of gifts xxviii. gallantry and coquetry xxix. in conclusion introduction as a rule, books of etiquette are written from the standpoint of the ultra-fashionable circle. they give large space to the details of behavior on occasions of extreme conventionality, and describe minutely the conduct proper on state occasions. but the majority in every town and village are people of moderate means and quiet habits of living, to whom the extreme formalities of the world of fashion will always remain something of an abstraction, and the knowledge of them is not of much practical use except to the few who are reflective enough to infer their own particular rule from any illustration of the general code. though it is interesting as a matter of information to know how a state dinner is conducted, still, as a matter of fact, the dinners usually given within this broad zone of "the average" are served without the assistance of butler, footman, or florist; innocent of wines and minus the more elaborate and expensive courses; and though served _à la russe_ the service is under the watchful supervision of the hostess herself and executed by the more or less skillful hand of a demure maid-servant. yet, in all essential points, the laws of etiquette controlling the conduct of this simple dinner of the american democrat are the same as those observed in the ceremonious banquet of the ambitious aristocrat. the degree of formality varies; the quality of courtesy is unchanging. well-mannered people are those who are at all times thoughtfully observant of _little_ proprieties such people do not "forget their manners" when away from home. they eat at the hotel table as daintily and with as polite regard for the comfort of their nearest neighbor as though they were among critical acquaintances. they never elbow mercilessly through crowded theatre aisles, nor stand up in front of others to see the pictures of a panorama, nor allow their children to climb upon the car seats with muddy or rough-nailed shoes; nor do a score of other things that every day are to be observed in public places, the mortifying tell-tale marks of an _habitual_ ill-manners. the importance of constant attention to points of etiquette cannot be too earnestly emphasized. the long lecture of instruction to the little ruggles', preparatory to their visit to the birds, is a comical--if burlesque--illustration of the emergency that sometimes faces some people, that of suddenly preparing to "behave themselves" on a great occasion. although the little ruggles' were fired with ambition to do themselves credit, their crude preparation was not equal to the occasion. the best of intentions could not at once take the place of established custom. one might as well hastily wrap himself in a yard or two of uncut broadcloth expecting it to be transformed, by instant miracle, into a coat. the garment must be cut and fitted, and adjusted and worn for a space of time before it can become the well-fitting habit, worn with the easy grace of unconsciousness which marks the habitually well-mannered. in this brief volume i have endeavored to suggest some of the fundamental laws of good behavior in every-day life. it is hoped that the conclusions reached, while not claiming to be either exhaustive or infallible, may be useful as far as they go. where authorities differ as to forms i have stated the rule which has the most widespread sanction of good usage. etiquette ethics of etiquette etiquette is the term applied to correct behavior in social life, and refers to the manner of actions and the expression of a proper social spirit through the medium of established forms and ceremonies. polite usage recognizes certain minute distinctions between the mannerly and the unmannerly ways of performing every act of life that affects the comfort and happiness of others. by one whose experience in life has been a hardening process tending in the direction of a crystallized selfishness the rules of etiquette are regarded with contempt and alluded to with a sneer. no more disheartening problem faces the social reformer than the question how to overcome the bitter hostility to refined manners which marks the ignorant "lower classes." on the other hand, there is no more hopeful sign of progress in civilization than the gradual softening of these hard natures under the influence of social amenities. the secret of successful missionary work lies primarily, not in tracts, nor in dogmas, nor in exhortations, but in the subtle attraction of a refined, benevolent spirit, breathing its very self into the lives of those who have hitherto known only the rasping, grasping selfishness of their fellow-men, and to whom this new gospel of brotherly kindness and deference is a marvelous revelation and inspiration. the result of such missionary work is a triumph of sanctified courtesy, a triumph not unworthy the disciples of him who "went about doing good" while teaching and exemplifying the "golden rule" upon which all rules of etiquette, however "worldly," are based. perhaps it may sometimes seem that there is little relation, possibly even some antagonism, between the sincerity of perfect courtesy and the proprieties of formal etiquette. at times etiquette requires us to do things that are not agreeable to our selfish impulses, and to say things that are not literally true if our secret feelings were known. but there is no instance wherein the laws of etiquette need transgress the law of sincerity when the ultimate purpose of each action is to develop and sustain social harmony. sometimes, for example, we invite people to visit us, and we pay visits in return, when both occasions are, on the face of it, a bore. yet there may be good reasons why we should sacrifice any mere impulse of choice and exert ourselves to manifest a hospitable spirit toward certain people who are most uncongenial to us. sometimes for the sake of another who is dear to us, and who, in turn, is attached to these same unattractive people, we make the third line of the triangle cheerfully, and even gladly, no matter how onerous the task, how distasteful the association forced upon us. these are not happy experiences, but they are tests of character that we are all liable to meet and which prove a most excellent discipline if they are met with discretion and patience. moreover, in the conscientious effort to be agreeable to disagreeable people we are tacitly trying to persuade ourselves that they are not so disagreeable after all, and indeed such is our surprising discovery in many instances. let us hope that others who exercise a similar forbearance toward ourselves are equally flattering in the conclusions which they reach. etiquette requires that we shall treat all people with equal courtesy, given the same conditions. it has a tendency to ignore the individuality of people. we may not slight one man simply because we do not like him, nor may we publicly exhibit extreme preference for the one whom we do like. in both cases the rebel against the restraints of social mice shouts the charge of "insincerity." well, perhaps some of the impulses of sincerity are better held in check; they are too closely allied to the humoring of our cherished prejudices. if "tact consists in knowing what not to say," etiquette consists in knowing what not to do in the direction of manifesting our impulsive likes and dislikes. besides, etiquette is not so much a manifestation _toward others_ as it is an exponent of _ourselves_. we are courteous to others, first of all, because such behavior only is consistent with our own claim to be well-bred. bearing this in mind we can behave with serenity in the presence of our most aggravating foe; his worst manifestation of himself fails to provoke us to retort in kind. we treat him politely, not because he deserves it, but because we owe it to ourselves to be gentle-mannered. etiquette _begins at self_. there is no worthy deference to others that does not rest on the basis of self-respect. "to thine own self be true; and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." it is a superficial judgment that descries nothing but insincerity in the unvarying suavity of a well-bred manner; that regards the conventional code of behavior as merely a device for rendering social life artificial. the _raison d'être_ is always to be found in the established rules of etiquette; and probably the most exacting and seemingly unnecessary of formalities has its foundation in some good common sense principle not far removed in spirit from "the rule golden." in short, manners and morals are twin shoots from the same root. the essentially well-bred man is he whose manners are the polite expression of moral principle, magnanimity, and benevolence. visiting cards the office of the visiting card the personal, or visiting, card is the representative of the individual whose name it bears. it goes where he himself would be entitled to appear, and in his absence it is equivalent to his presence. it is his "double," delegated to fill all social spaces which his variously-occupied life would otherwise compel him to leave vacant. since the card is to be received as the equivalent of one's self, it is important that it shall be discreetly sent upon its embassy. in every case where personal cards are correctly used the owner is accredited with having performed _de facto_ whatever the card expresses for him, be it a "call," a "regret," a "congratulation," an "apology," an "introduction," a "farewell-taking," or whatever. the rules guiding the uses of visiting cards are based upon this idea of representation. the deputy is on duty only in the absence of his superior, so the card is usually superfluous when the owner himself is present. a card sent at a wrong time suggests the possibility that the owner might blunder similarly in his personal appearing. the neglect to send a card at a proper time is equivalent to a _personal_ neglect. the man who comes himself and hands you his card also is apt to have too many elbows at a dinner, too many feet at a ball. he has about him a suggestion of awkward superfluousness that is subtly consistent with his duplicate announcement of himself. for want of the much-needed genderless singular pronoun i have been using the masculine form; but upon reflection i remember that it is the women of society who have the most diverse responsibility in the management of personal cards, their duties extending even to the care and oversight of the cards of their socially careless and negligent male relatives. but no matter who attends to the proprieties, the relation of the card to its owner is the same in all cases. if his card blunders, he gets the discredit of it. if his card always flutters gracefully into the salver at exactly the right time and place, the glory is all his own, even though his tireless wife or mother or sister has done all the hard thinking bestowed on the matter. happy the man allied by the ties of close kindred to a gifted society woman, for lo! his cards shall never be found missing, wherever _he_ may stray. style of cards the prevailing shape of cards for women is nearly square (about / x inches). a fine dull-finished card-board of medium weight and stiffness is used. a man's card is smaller, and narrower proportionately; and is of slightly heavier card-board. the color is pearl white, not cream. tinted cards are not admissible. the engraving is plain script, or elaborate text; as the fashion may for the time decree. the responsibility of furnishing the correct style of card rests with the engraver, whose business it is to know the ruling fashion of the day. any one may have an elegant card by intrusting the choice to a first-class stationer. but it is not half the battle to secure an elegant card. an elegant use of the card distinguishes the well-informed in social usage. this distinction shows when the distribution of cards begins. the engraving of visiting cards cards for men if the surname is short, the full name may be engraved. if the names are long, and the space does not admit of their full extension, the initials of given names may be used. the former style is preferred, when practicable. in the absence of any special title properly accompanying the name--as "rev.," "dr.," "col.," etc.,--"mr." is always prefixed. good form requires this on an engraved card. if in any emergency a man _writes_ his own name on a card he does _not_ prefix "mr." what titles may properly be used on a man's visiting-card? the distinctions made in the use of titles seem arbitrary unless some reason can be discovered. the rule should be, to omit from visiting-cards all titles that signify _transient offices_, or _occupations not related to social life_; using such titles only as indicate a rank or profession that is _for life_; and which has become a part of the man's _identity_, or which is distinctly allied to his _social conditions_. to illustrate:--the rank of an officer in the army or the navy should be indicated by title on his card, his connection with the service being _for life_, and _a part of his identity_. his personal card is engraved thus: "general schofield"--the title in full when only the surname is used; or, "gen. winfield scott," "gen. w. s. hancock"--the title abbreviated when the given names, or their initials, are used. the first style is appropriate to the commander-in-chief, or the senior officer; or in any case where no other officer of the same name and rank is on the roster. officers on the retired list, and veteran officers of the late war who rose from the volunteer ranks, retain their titles by courtesy. and very appropriately so, since the war record of many a gallant soldier is inseparable from the man himself, in the minds of his fellow-citizens. he may have retired to private life again, but his distinguished services have outlived the brief hour of action; and his hero-worshiping countrymen will always recognize him in his most salient character, "every inch a soldier." it is quite impossible to call him "mr.," or at once to know who is meant if his card reads--for instance--"mr. lucius fairchild." nothing but the title of his well-earned rank gives an adequate idea of the man. the official cards of political officers and ambassadors, which bear the title and office of the man--with or without his name--should be used only on official or state occasions, and during the term of office. when the incumbent "steps down and out," this card is also "relegated." his friends may continue to greet him as "governor," but he no longer _uses_ the title himself. in strictly social life, the personal card of the ex-governor is like that of any other private citizen, subject to the same rules. similarly, professional or business cards that bear ever so slight an advertisement of occupations are not allowable for social purposes. the three "learned" professions, theology, medicine, and law, are equally "for life." but the occupation of the lawyer is distinctly related to business matters, and not at all to social affairs. his title, or sub-title, _esquire_, is properly ignored on his visiting-card, and socially he is simply "mr. john livingstone." on the other hand, the callings of the clergyman and the physician respectively, are closely allied to the social side of life, closely identified with the man himself. therefore "rev.," or "dr." may with propriety be considered as forming an inseparable compound with the name. the title is an important identifying mark, and its omission, by the clergyman, at least, is not strictly dignified. "office hours" are not announced on a physician's social card. it is not good form to use _merely honorary titles_ on visiting-cards. in most cases, a man should lay aside all pretension to special office or rank, and appear in society simply as "mr. john brown," to take his chances in the social world strictly on his own merits; assured that if he has any merit, other people will discover it without an ostentatious reminder of it in the shape of a pompous visiting-card. of course this suggestion of democratic simplicity refers to the engraving of _one's own card_; other people _address_ the man properly by his official or honorary title, with all due respect for the worth which the world recognizes--even though the wearer of such honors ignores his own claim to high distinction. "blow your own trumpet, if you would hear it sound," is a sharply sarcastic bit of advice, since only hopeless mediocrity could ever profit by the injunction. real merit needs no trumpeter. mrs. grant could afford to call her husband "mr." grant, as was her modest custom; because all the world knew that he was the general of our armies, and the president of the republic. it is some "mayor puff," of boomtown, who can hardly be persuaded by the engraver from giving himself the satisfaction of incidentally announcing on his visiting-cards the result of the last borough election. a man's address may be engraved beneath his name at the lower right corner, the street and number _only_ if in a city, or the name of a country-seat if out of town; as, "the leasowes." bachelors who belong to a club may add the club address in the lower left corner; or, if they live altogether at the club, this address occupies the lower right corner. an engraved address implies some permanency of location. those who are liable to frequent changes of address would better omit this addition to the visiting-card, writing the address in any emergency that requires it. no _messages_ are _written_ on a man's card, and no penciling is allowed, except as above, to give (or correct) the address, or in the case of "_p. p. c._" cards, sent by post. cards for women the rules in regard to titles are simple and brief. a woman's name should never appear on a visiting-card without either "mrs." or "miss" prefixed. the exception would be in the case of women who have regularly graduated in theology or medicine. such are entitled, like their brothers, to prefix "rev." or "dr." to their names. a married woman's card is engraved with her husband's name, with the prefix "mrs." no matter how "titled" the husband may be, his _titles_ do not appear on his wife's visiting-card. the wife of the president is not "mrs. president harrison," but "mrs. benjamin harrison." she is the wife of the _man_, not the wife of his _office_ or his _rank_. a widow may, if she prefers, retain the card engraved during her husband's lifetime, unless by so doing she confuses her identity with that of some other "mrs. john brown," whose husband is still living. it is more strictly correct for a widow to resume her own given name, and to have her card engraved "mrs. mary brown," or, if she chooses to indicate her own patronymic, "mrs. mary dexter brown." an unmarried woman's card is engraved with her full name, or the initials of given names, as she prefers, but always with the prefix "miss" (unless one of the professional titles referred to takes its place). the address may be engraved or written in the lower right corner. if a society woman has a particular day for receiving calls, that fact is announced in the lower left corner. if this is engraved, it is understood to be a fixed custom; if written, it may be a transient arrangement. if a weekly "at home" day is observed, the name of the day is engraved, as "tuesdays." this means that during "calling hours" on _any_ tuesday the hostess will be found at home. if hours are limited, that is also indicated, as "from to ." further limitations may be specified, as "tuesdays in february," "tuesdays until lent," "tuesdays after october," etc. any definite idea of time may be given to meet the facts, the wording being made as terse as possible. if the regular "at home" day is tuesday (unlimited), and the card is so engraved, any of the special limitations may be penciled in to meet special conditions. sometimes an informal invitation is thus conveyed; as, by the addition, "tea, to ," etc. _other penciling_.--cards left or sent, before leaving town, have "_p. p. c._"--(_pour prendrè congé_)--penciled in the lower left corner. a holiday, a birthday, a wedding anniversary, or other event in a friend's life may be remembered by sending a card, upon which is penciled "greeting," "congratulations," "best wishes," or some similar expression. such cards may be sent alone, or may accompany gifts. any brief message may be penciled on a woman's card, provided the message is sufficiently personal to partake of the nature of a social courtesy. but the card message should not be sent when courtesy requires the more explicit and respectful form of a _note_. cards for young women in strictly formal circles a young woman, during her first year in society, pays no visits alone. she accompanies her mother or chaperon. she has no separate card, but her name is engraved, or may be written, beneath that of her mother (or chaperon) on a card employed for these joint visits. after a year or so of social experience (the period being governed by the youth or maturity of the debutante, or by the exigency of making way for a younger sister to be chaperoned), the young woman becomes an identity socially, and has her separate card, subject to the general rules for women's cards, even though she continues to pay her most formal visits in company with her mother. after marriage cards during the first year after marriage cards engraved thus: "mr. and mrs. henry bell joyce," may be used by the couple in paying calls, or returning wedding civilities. such cards are also used when jointly sending presents at any time. for general visiting, after the first year, husband and wife have separate cards. the use of the visiting-card a too profuse use of visiting-cards indicates crudity. the trend of fashion is toward restricting the quantity of paste-board, and employing cards always when they are required, never when they are superfluous. calling in person when one calls in person the name of the caller is given verbally to the servant who opens the door. the card is not usually sent up, except by a stranger. but sometimes there is difficulty in making the servant understand the name or properly distinguish it from some other similar name. in this case to avoid mistakes the card is sent up. if the hostess is not at home a card is left by the disappointed caller. on the occasion of a _first_ call a card is left on the hall table, or other place provided, _even though the caller has been received by the hostess_. this serves as a reminder that the acquaintance has been duly and formally begun. on the occasion of subsequent calls, when the hostess is at home, no cards are employed, except, as before stated, to avert servants' mistakes. such is the sensible dictum of good authorities, and one in harmony with the idea that the personal card is the _representative_ of its owner, not his _accompaniment_. this idea is more pointedly illustrated in quiet neighborhoods, where even the wealthy live simply of choice, and, like their neighbors of moderate means, employ but one domestic, or, it may be, none. in such households often the guest is met at the door by a member of the family, possibly the hostess herself. the use of a visiting-card then is plainly incongruous, not to say absurd. the visitor who is paying a "first call" under these informal conditions may find opportunity to drop a card unobtrusively into the basket, if such receptacle be within reach; but if this cannot be done without conspicuous effort the card is better ignored, and its place as a remembrancer filled by the genial impression which the visitor leaves, and of which an appreciative hostess needs no card reminder. besides, people "living quietly" visit so little, comparatively, that it is no severe tax on the memory to recollect who has called, especially as the infrequency of calls gives ample time for each one to make an individual impression. this is not possible when a steady stream of visitors is pouring in and out of a drawing-room on a fashionable woman's "at home" day, scarcely giving the hostess opportunity to gaze upon one face before another has displaced it; so that at the end of the hour her memory recalls a composite photograph. cards are her indispensable aids in resolving this picture into its component elements. but those who "live quietly," receiving but few calls, have no such bewildering complexity to deal with. at the same time, these people thus quietly environed may represent the most refined and cultivated circle. they may know perfectly well what formal etiquette would demand in the matter of cards if the conditions were more formal. the omission of cards whenever their use would be forced, so far from indicating ignorance, is a proof of discrimination. personal calls are made in the following cases: in returning a first visit, made in person. after a dinner party to which one has been invited, whether the invitation was accepted or not. after any entertainment other than a dinner it is allowable to leave or send cards instead of paying a personal call. this is a wise rule in cases where a hostess, has a long visiting list, and entertains frequently. to receive afterward personal visits from all of her guests would be practically impossible. the majority will express their acknowledgments by card, leaving it to the most intimate friends of the hostess to pay their respects in person. but among quiet people, where one "tea" is the extent of a hostess' efforts for the season, the personal call is desirable as showing greater respect and friendliness. among congenial friends only the plea of a busy life can make the card acknowledgment quite as graceful and acceptable as the personal visit. but if the guest is a comparative stranger, and, for any reason, there is a wish not to extend the acquaintance, the sending of a card meets all the requirements of etiquette, without committing the sender to any further intimacy. (the alternative for personal calls, is personal card-leaving; the next point to be considered.) card-leaving is lieu of personal calls when personal calls are not practicable, nor desirable, the leaving of cards is accepted as an equivalent. a few years ago, fashion demanded that all visiting-cards expressing or acknowledging social civilities should be left in person; the alternative in emergencies being to send them by the hand of a private messenger, never through the post-office. there was good excuse for this fashion in our grandmother's day, when the post was a slow coach, or a storm-stayed postillion; but the admirable system of our postal service to-day leaves no excuse for the prejudice in favor of the private messenger; and it is not surprising that fashion has yielded to common sense in allowing that many of these cards of courtesy may, with perfect propriety, be sent by post. the following instances illustrate the present correct usage in regard to these three ways of leaving cards. cases in which personal card-leaving is required after a _first hospitality_, whether accepted or not. calls of condolence. after-dinner calls by cards. _alternative_.--in such cases, when _personal_ card-leaving is _impossible_, the card is sent by a private messenger, and an explanation, or apology, is sent by _note_. cards of condolence may be sent by _post_ by friends at a distance; but not by persons residing in the near vicinity. cards by messenger, or by post in all cases where personal card-leaving is not imperative, cards may be sent either by messenger or by post. as the former is still regarded by many persons--especially elderly people--as the only strictly polite medium of transfer, it is considerate to send cards, invitations, etc., to such people by the good old-fashioned messenger, rather than to shock unnecessarily a crystallized sense of propriety by ruthless innovations. but in general it is more convenient and quite as neat and reliable to send by post; and the fashion of so doing is now fully adopted by the younger generation, and no longer subject to criticism. in stating what _may_ be done, in the way of escaping personal tasks, we are merely marking the bounds of propriety in one direction. on the other hand, in most cases, those who choose may make personal calls instead of those several formal card-leavings. when good form allows alternatives, each one must judge for himself which form of expression is most appropriate in any given case. frank cordiality, amounting to informality, may be in the best taste in some oases; whereas, in other instances, only the most conventional and reserved expression of respect is either agreeable or discreet. in the latter case, let your card speak _for_ you, and at "long range"--the longer the better. card-leaving by proxy one of the peculiar permissions of "good form" is that which allows a man to delegate the distribution of his visiting-cards to a near female relative, whenever it becomes impracticable for him to attend to the matter personally. only the women of his own household, or a relative with whom he habitually pays visits, can thus represent a man by proxy. in this country, where most society men--certainly the better element--are "business men," whose days are filled with earnest work and crowned with the achievements of industry, it is not to be expected that men of affairs will always be ready to respond to social invitations, or to pay all the calls of civility which fashion decrees shall be paid during the hours usually devoted to business. in theory, each man and woman in society is supposed to attend to his or her own social duties. _while it is expected that a man will make all reasonable effort to do this, and that he will not altogether neglect it_, still, so long as he occasionally appears personally, with a genial demeanor that proves the sincerity of his "good intentions," it will be accepted in good part if, in a large number of instances, his card, instead of himself, appears, brought by another hand. but let men remember that the "good excuse" must be obvious. any suspicion of indifference robs the proxy card-leaving of all effect as a compliment. in case a man is legitimately prevented, by business cares, from paying calls or leaving his cards in person, it is proper for his wife or mother or sister, or other near relative, to leave or send his card with her own. when a woman calls upon another woman she leaves her husband's card. if the hostess is married, a second card is left for the host. she may leave the cards of a son, a brother, or other relative, if such responsibility rests upon her. this formality should be observed when paying the first call of the season. while every well-informed woman should know that it is her place to leave her husband's cards for him, it is a fact that many women, otherwise attentive to social forms, habitually neglect this particular duty. the result is that the man who has not time to pay visits becomes a social nonentity, and society, in some circles, is simply a "world of women." why does the husband, thus neglected, get out of going to the occasional party whenever he can, and when he does allow himself to be dragged thither, why does he sulk, leaning against a chilly mantel-piece, eying his fragile coffee cup with disdain, and enacting the _rôle_ of martyr generally, until he can persuade his wife to go home again? why, indeed; but because he feels out of place. his rare and incidental appearance is a journey into a far country, of which he has little knowledge, and in which he has no interest. but when a man goes--ever so seldom--where he knows that his card _habitually_ goes, he feels that he is on familiar ground, and he will go in person, of choice, oftener than he otherwise would. some men, unaccustomed to exact social observances, would ridicule the idea at first, if their wives should announce the intention of leaving their husband's cards for them. but, however much a man might demur, a lurking vanity would develop into complacent satisfaction, as he became aware of the increasing geniality of the social atmosphere about him; and the pleasing glow would take the ultimate form of gratitude to his wife. that the permission to leave cards by proxy is often abused by selfish and indolent men is no doubt true. but the social advantage which it gives to a large class of men who are neither selfish nor indolent more than counterbalances any disadvantages, and saves to "society" a solid element that might be entirely given over to business, if it were not for judicious feminine co-operation in the distribution of visiting-cards. "solid" men would go "into society" far more frequently and with greater alacrity if they felt assured that the way had been smoothly paved with their own visiting-cards, well laid in place by the deft fingers of their skillful women folk, who have left no flaw in the mosaic of social proprieties. some further illustrations of card usage when a married, or elderly woman tacitly invites a man to call on her by telling him what are her "at home" days or hours, it is obligatory upon him to acknowledge the courtesy. if unable to call personally he should explain that fact and express regret, and should be particular to send a card on her next receiving day during the hours that she has mentioned. it is a special courtesy to send also a card for her husband, if he is a venerable man, or if, by reason of ill health, he is usually at home. a woman older, or busier, or occupying some position of acknowledged distinction, may send her card, indicating her receiving days and hours, to a younger or less occupied woman. this is accepted as a call, and an invitation to return the same. if the recipient chooses she may respond in person. if she does not care to establish a calling acquaintance she may respond by sending one of her own cards on the receiving day. in case opportunity occurs for explanation some polite reason may be given for not adding to one's visiting list; but unless one has the tact to do this without snobbishness, it were better to keep silence. cards of introduction are simply visiting-cards upon which the owner writes, above his own name, "introducing mr. ----." the card is inclosed in an unsealed envelope, addressed to the person to whom the introduction is to be made, and with the words "introducing mr. ----," written in the lower left corner. it is a delicate matter to refuse a card or letter of introduction, but it is a far more delicate matter to take the _liberty_ to give one. if one is in doubt about the readiness of the third party to receive the person introduced it is better to find some polite excuse for declining to be the medium of the introduction. fortunately, if the blunder is made of introducing uncongenial people they can easily drift apart again without rudeness on the part of either. when any one is invited to a church wedding and cannot attend it is proper to send, on the day of the marriage, a card or cards to those who issued the invitations; one card, if one parent, or a guardian, invites; if the invitation is sent in the names of both parents, a card for each, inclosed in an envelope and addressed to both. if the invited guest attends the wedding he leaves or sends cards within a week, similarly addressed. a personal call is allowable if intimacy warrants it. those friends of the groom who are not acquainted with the bride's family should merely send cards. when a man wishes to make the acquaintance of another man he may call and send in his card. this may or may not be accompanied with some explanatory message. if the man on whom the call is made does not wish to receive the caller he will express some polite reason for declining, or suggest another time for receiving the visitor. usually a man will receive another man who makes polite overtures; but if the host does not wish to continue the acquaintance he will not return the call in person, but simply send his card by post. this distant rejoinder practically ends the brief acquaintance without any discourteous rebuff. it is one of the mistakes of the vulgar to be rude and gruff in order to repel an undesired acquaintance. in reality, nothing freezes out a bore more effectually than the icy calm of dignified courtesy. there are exquisitely polite ways of sending every undesirable person to limbo. the perfect self-command of the well-bred man enables him to do this to perfection, but without giving offense. moreover, as most people worth seeking are men and women of earnest lives and crowded occupations, no one need feel personally chagrined by the failure to establish a coveted acquaintance with some gifted man or woman. cards of condolence are left as soon as possible after learning of the affliction. if in town, cards are left in person or sent by a messenger with a message. if out of town a card is sent by the first post. nothing is written upon these cards. a visiting card, with "congratulations" written upon it, is sent to felicitate a friend upon any happy event in which friends may sympathize. such cards are sent by messenger or by post. if a card is left in person with a kind message, nothing is written upon the card. when a man calls and sees his hostess, but not the host, he should leave a card for the latter. if the hostess is not at home, two cards should be left. when a man entertains formally, each man invited, whether he accepts or not, should acknowledge the courtesy within a week. he may call in person, or leave a card, or send a card by mail, or write a note of thanks, whichever he prefers. this is one of the important formalities between men, and the neglect of it argues either ignorance or insolence. when a man calls upon a woman while she is the guest of a family with whom he is not acquainted, he inquires for both his friend and her hostess, and, as he is a stranger in the house, he sends up a card for each (instead of announcing himself _verbally_, as at the house of a friend). if the hostess receives him on this occasion, but extends no further hospitality, he has no claim upon her recognition beyond the hour. if the hostess subsequently offers him any hospitality during the time his friend is her guest he must call upon her; but if he defers this until after the departure of the guest, he must leave a card for the hostess without intruding a personal call, unless he has been distinctly invited to continue the acquaintance. if the man who pays the call does not wish to continue the acquaintance with his friend's hostess, after she has offered him hospitality, he must at least call and leave a card for her, with a polite inquiry for her health. this is obligatory; but nothing further is required. a visiting card is employed in sending informal invitations to a tea or afternoon reception. the care of the hostess is used, and in addition to the name of the regular receiving day the special date, as "january ," and some other specific words, as "tea, to ," are written in the lower left corner. (in this informal _written_ message _numbers_ are indicate by _figures_, where _formal_ invitations require the _words_ to be written in full.) this card is accepted by the recipients as equivalent to a call paid by the sender, and they respond in person at the time indicated, leaving cards with the servant as they enter, and also, on their departure, leaving the cards of such male members of their respective families as have been invited, but are unable to attend. as few men can leave business at this hour these occasions become prominent illustrations of "proxy" card-leaving. if any one invited cannot be present (and in case of a man no female relative is there authorized to represent him) a card must be sent by post or messenger on the receiving day. after a change of residence, or after a prolonged absence from home, cards of the entire family are sent to notify an acquaintance of their re-establishment and of their readiness to resume the social interchange. it is customary for the younger society men to pay a round of calls after returning from the usual summer "outing," or to leave cards in lieu of a call. when leaving for a long absence, or when parting from transient, but agreeable acquaintances, as companion tourists, etc., when time does not admit of farewell calls, visiting-cards are sent by post with "p. p. c." (_pour prendrè congé_--to take leave) written upon them. this is equivalent to saying, "if ever we meet again we will meet on the footing of friends, not strangers." it is a pleasant way of showing appreciation of the pleasure afforded by another's society, and the formality should not be neglected by one who would be esteemed thoughtfully polite and kind. only people who cling to old-fashioned customs still fold over the right side of a visiting-card to show that the card was left _in person_, and also fold over the _left side_ to show that the call was intended for _all_ the women of the household. this custom is practically obsolete. another fashion that has had its day was that of leaving a separate card for each of the women of the household. now, _one_ card answers the purpose, the inquiry accompanying it indicates whether the call was intended for one or for all of the family. in case a _guest_ of the household is included in the call a separate card is left for her. ceremonious cards and invitations. etiquette of repliess the "high tea," musicale, etc. these occasions are more formal than the ordinary afternoon tea. special cards are engraved, and if any special entertainment is provided, the fact may be indicated by the words, "music," or "miscellaneous program" (when readings and music are interspersed). or, the announcement may be omitted, and the program furnish a pleasant surprise for the guests. but when "dancing" is the recreation provided for, it must appear on the card, so that guests may prepare for it. the card for a "_musicale_" or similar occasion, is simply engraved: mrs. john livingstone at home wednesday, october fifth, from four to seven o'clock. dancing. park ave. for a party or reception given in honor of another, the invitations may be engraved with a blank space left for the name of the invited guest; or, the form may be filled out, and the name of the guest appear on the envelope only. it may read: mr. and mrs. dexter holmes request the pleasure of .........................'s company on tuesday evening june sixth, at nine o'clock, to meet rev. john d. loring. r.s.v.p. rice st. or, the wording may be "request the pleasure of your company," etc. the former has the rhetorical advantage of uniformity, the third person being used throughout; and it also indicates a personal recognition of each guest; but the latter form presents a neater appearance. as to the use of "r.s.v.p.," or any of the phrases now preferred by many, as, "please reply;" "the favor of an answer is requested," etc., this may be said: some authorities claim that _all_ invitations should be _answered_; and that therefore these _requests_ for a reply are a reflection on the good manners of the people invited. but such is not the popular understanding. all invitations that are _plainly limited to a certain number of guests_, as dinners, card parties, and certain exclusive receptions, should be answered at once, in order that vacancies may be filled. whether the invitation is accompanied with the request for a reply or not, all thoughtful people will recognize the propriety. but on many occasions where numbers are not necessarily limited, only the hostess can say whether the reply is urgent or not; since it is a question of her personal convenience, the limits of house-room, or some other individual matter. as no one class of entertainments is given always under the same conditions, it is well to allow the hostess to choose whether she will add or omit the request for a reply to her invitations. meanwhile, the punctilious may reply to every invitation of a strictly social character, and even if the host or hostess did not expect it, such reply can give no offense; whereas, the _neglect_ of a _necessary_ reply might prove very awkward and annoying. a private ball is only a more elaborate form of a dancing party. the invitations are phrased in the same language, but the hour is usually not earlier than . p. m. the same form of invitation can be adapted to almost any reception, party or other social entertainment, with such variations in the phrasing as suit the circumstances. it may be said that it is unnecessary to give explicit directions about invitations, inasmuch as the engraver is the one ultimately responsible for the accuracy of these things. but on occasions when small numbers are invited--but undiminished formality is observed--the formal invitation is requisite, yet the engraved card is a needless expense. in such cases one may have cards _written_ in due form. but, for written invitations of this formal character, it is imperative that the paper shall be of superior quality, and the penmanship neat, and _thoroughly stylish_ in effect. cards of invitation to a wedding are issued in the name of the bride's parents, or, if she is an orphan, by her guardian, or some relative or friend who gives her the wedding. all expenses are paid by the bride's family. it is not etiquette for the groom to bear any of the expense, except the fee to the clergy man; nor to furnish anything for his own wedding, except the ring and the bouquet for the bride, presents for the brides-maids and best man, and some little token for the ushers. the hostess (who invites) requests the groom to furnish her with two lists of names--one list of those of his friends whom he wishes to be present to witness the ceremony, and another list of those whom he would like to see at the reception also. these, with similar lists of the bride's friends, make up the number of guests to be invited. wedding invitations are usually sent out two weeks before the day fixed for the ceremony. the invitation is engraved and printed upon a note sheet, in handsome plain script, the lines broken to give distinction to the several ideas, and the wording made as terse as possible. the formula is nearly unvarying: mr. and mrs. george lathrop request the pleasure of your company (or the honor of your presence) at the marriage of their daughter, mary adelaide, to mr. william henry bishop, at st. philip's church, on wednesday evening, october twelfth, at seven o'clock. if the marriage is to be solemnized at home the date follows the names in succession, and the place of residence is given last. the invitation may vary, "the wedding reception of their daughter," etc. or, accompanying the church wedding invitation may be a square card bearing the lines: "reception from half-past seven until nine o'clock," with place of residence on the line below. also, to avoid a crowd at the church, a smaller card is sometimes sent with the invitations bearing, for example, the words: "please present this card at st. philip's church, wednesday evening, october twelfth, at seven o'clock." this card of admission is also given to dependents--the domestics of the family or such persons as may be entitled to the kind notice, but who are not, strictly speaking, invited guests. the number of such cards should never be greater than the comfortable capacity of the church, lest their original purpose be defeated. in case the ceremony is private the immediate family and chosen friends are invited verbally. it is then optional whether or not a formal announcement shall be made to a wider circle of friends by sending out engraved cards the day after the ceremony. these are, like the invitations, printed on note sheets, and are phrased briefly, as mr. and mrs. george lathrop announce the marriage of their daughter, mary adelaide, to mr. william henry bishop, wednesday evening, october twelfth, st. philip's church. "at home" cards sometimes accompany this announcement, or they may be sent out later by the young couple themselves, if a long wedding trip intervenes. the private wedding and after announcement is often the most suitable--in fact, the only appropriate method to adopt when a bride is comparatively alone in the world, or has no near relatives to take charge of wedding formalities. in such a case the announcement is worded: "mr. william henry bishop and miss mary adelaide lathrop, married, wednesday, october twelfth, willow st." if no other place is given this is understood to be the place where to address cards of congratulation. if the young couple are to receive later, in a new home, that address, with date of the "at home," is also given, thus, "at home, after november fifteenth, lake st." if the change of residence is to another town, the name of the town is also given. for the proper style of "displaying" the phrases of an invitation or announcement one may apply to a first-class stationer. plain script and the finest white paper are always correct. any show of ornamentation is out of taste. when the circle of acquaintances is very large and invitations must be limited to a certain number, the announcement cards may be sent to others. a wedding invitation, unless it includes a wedding breakfast, limited in number, requires no reply. cards sent afterward are all that is necessary. these cards, and whatever congratulations are sent, are addressed to the ones in whose name the invitation or announcement was sent out--usually the parents of the bride. a congratulatory note to the bride is always in order among intimate friends, _but this bears no relation to a response to the invitation_. wedding anniversary invitations are simply, "mr. and mrs. george lathrop, at home," etc., with date and residence. they are printed on cards or note sheets, preferably the latter, and the character of the occasion is indicated by a monogram at the top of the page, in the centre, flanked by the two annual dates, as " [monogram] ." if for a golden wedding this heading is lettered in gold; if for a silver wedding, in silver, the invitation being, as usual, printed in black ink. it is good form to engrave "no presents" in the lower left corner, if such is the wish of "the bride and groom." dinner cards of invitation may have this form: mr. and mrs. george lathrop request the pleasure of .................................... company at dinner on thursday, ................ at seven o'clock. willow street. the above form may be engraved for perennial use by a host or hostess who frequently give dinners, and always on the same day of the week. blanks are left to be filled in with the name of the invited guest and the exact date. or for a single occasion the form may be without any blank spaces, and the phrasing read, "request the pleasure of your company." a dinner given in honor of some distinguished guest requires an invitation card specially engraved. this form is most deferential: to meet general la fayette, mr. and mrs. george lathrop request the honor of ........................ company at dinner on wednesday, may tenth, at eight o'clock. willow street. if the honored guest is esteemed on the score of personal friendship rather than public distinction his name will be given last, instead of first, on the card, the phrasing of the invitation remaining the same. invitations to dinner should be answered at once, and no one should accept if there is the least doubt about being able to be present. only the most serious detentions suddenly arising will excuse a failure to keep a dinner engagement once made. if such contingency does occur at the eleventh hour an explanation and apology should be sent to the host or hostess without delay in order to give opportunity for securing "the fourteenth man." for a formal luncheon or breakfast the invitation cards are similar in form to dinner cards. but since the manner of serving, the numbers invited, etc., are not so definitely fixed it is proper to add r.s.v.p. on cards that especially call for a reply in the judgment of the hostess. otherwise many people with vague ideas of the "informality" of these occasions might omit to send replies. the conduct of a church wedding the sexton should be duly informed what preparations to make at the church; the awning at the entrance, the ribbon barrier across the aisle, the floral decorations, etc., by whomever arranged and executed are under the supervision of this functionary, who is responsible for having everything in order. it is no longer good form for a bride to be late at her own wedding. now, when the invitation says "seven o'clock" it is expected that the ceremony will begin at that hour precisely, accidents aside. the organist is engaged by some one interested in making the arrangements, and is supposed to be in his place for a half-hour or so before the hour of the ceremony; and while the guests are assembling he discourses music appropriate to the occasion--a rambling, meditative _pot-pourri_ of sweet and pathetic sentimental songs being a popular and effective choice. in churches having a vested choir it is possible to secure very beautiful effects in the musical adjuncts, the processional adding greatly to the grace and dignity of the ceremonial. the sexton, or his deputy, stands at the door, salver in hand, to receive the admission cards as people enter the church. the invited guests are met at the foot of the centre aisle by the ushers. an usher offers his arm to a lady and conducts her to a seat, the friends of the bride being seated at the left and the friends of the groom at the right of the middle aisle. when, as often happens, the groom is "from a distance," and few of his far-away acquaintances can be present, this separation of guests is not observed. at the appointed hour, the clergyman appears at the altar rail; the groom, accompanied by his best man, emerges from the vestry, and takes his place at the right, awaiting the arrival of the bride. at this instant, the organist stops dreaming, wakes up, and starts boldly into the wedding march, as the bridal party move up the aisle, in the following order: first, the ushers, in pairs, then the bridesmaids, also in pairs. sometimes a little "maid of honor," carrying flowers, precedes the bride. the bride, leaning on the arm of her father, comes last. the ushers and the bridesmaids separate as they reach the altar, and go to the right and to the left. at the altar the groom receives the bride from her father's hand. the latter steps back a few paces, but remains near enough to "give away the bride." when this point in the ceremony has been passed, the father quietly joins the mother in the front pew. if the processional has been the "lohengrin" march, it is thought by many to be very effective for the organist, all through the ceremony, to continue on the swell organ a dreamy _sotto voce_ improvisation, in the course of which a varied reiteration of "faithful and true" serves as an affecting expression of the sentiment of the hour. the most enjoyable tears are shed by the emotional under this inspiration. but other people prefer the solemn stillness, broken only by the voice of the priest and the responses of the high contracting parties. it is a matter of taste and feeling; and those interested are at liberty to indulge either fancy. the bride stands at the left of the groom during the ceremony; and also takes his left arm at the close. when the ceremony is concluded, the officiating clergyman congratulates the couple, but does not kiss the bride as formerly. in the episcopal church, and any other churches where it is the duty of the contracting parties to sign the parish register, the clergyman, the newly wedded pair, and their witnesses, now retire to the sacristry for this purpose. on their return to the chancel, the organ peals forth the wedding march; the bride and groom lead the bridal party in returning down the aisle, the bridesmaids and ushers following in due order, and after them the nearest relatives; and all, entering their carriages, are driven at once to the home of the bride's parents. after a morning, or "high noon" wedding, a "breakfast" is usually served. if the ceremony has been a nuptial mass, in the catholic or high church ritual, the bridal party have--presumably--observed the fast, before the mass; therefore, the "breakfast" is really a breakfast. however, the term is popularly used by non-ritualists, when the ceremony bears no relation to the mass; and regardless of the fact that the real breakfast has been taken at the usual hour. a bride may wear full dress at any hour, day or evening; but _decolleté_ dress is not good form at a church wedding, nor is it allowed in the catholic church. white is the preferred color for a young bride. a widow-bride, on the contrary, should choose some other color; and she wears neither veil nor orange-blossoms. details of fashion vary so constantly that specific directions cannot be given with any assumption of final authority. a fashionable modiste should be consulted in the emergency. the dress worn by a guest at a wedding may be as rich as desired, but should not have a bridal appearance. sometimes a recent bride wears her own wedding gown at a friend's wedding; but it is in better taste not to do so, nor in any other way to invite comparisons. the bride should be permitted to be the conspicuous figure at her own wedding, and while her friends may pay her the compliment of wearing handsome toilettes on that occasion, still, other women should dress just a little less elaborately, rather than commit the solecism of "out-dressing the bride." fortunately, one may show all delicate consideration in this matter, and yet be beautifully and becomingly dressed. the ethics of hospitality hospitality shares what it has. it does not attempt to _give_ what it _has not_. the finest hospitality is that which welcomes you to the fireside and permits you to look upon the picture of a home-life so little disturbed by your coming that you are at once made to feel yourself a part of the little symphony--the rare bit of color just needed to complete the harmonic combination. with this flattering fact impressed upon your glowing memory you will hardly be able to recall the material adjuncts of the occasion. it is a sign of a gross nature to measure hospitality by the loaves and fishes, forgetting the miracle that goes with them. and it is equally a mistake for a host to be afraid to offer humble entertainment when richer offers are beyond his means. to a refined perception "the life is more than the meat," and the personality of the host, not the condition of his larder, decides whether or not it is an honor to be his guest. delightful though it be to be able to afford one's guest a rare and beautiful entertainment, one must dismiss the idea that a graceful and acceptable hospitality depends on material things. sir launfal, sharing his crust with the beggar at the gate, was still sir launfal. the impoverished hostess may preside at her frugal board with the spirit and the manner of a queen, whereas the coarse-fibred vulgarian vainly heaps his platters with choicest game and rarest fruit, the while he serves the banquet like the churl that he is. whatever your entertainment, rich or poor, remember, first of all, to give _yourself_ to your guest; then, if he is appreciative, he will not criticise your simple dinner, nor grumble at the flavor of your wine. one of the wits of the day has gravely reported that at a banquet in the athens of america, "the _menu_ consisted of two baked beans and readings from emerson." despite its grotesque exaggeration, the _mot_ contains the kernel of a dignified truth: that material things are of secondary importance on all social occasions worthy of the name. the most expensive entertainment given by any one should be merely an incidental illustration of his already recognized financial means. it should never be so beyond his usual ability as to arouse among his neighbors the wonder, how he could afford it? when people who are known to have only a moderate income give "spreads" disproportionate to their daily mode of living, the thoughtful observer instinctively questions their taste and good sense. usually such ostentatious display brings more or less derision on the ones who are foolish enough to spend more money to make their neighbors stare for a day than they use to make themselves comfortable for a year. no matter how elaborate the entertainment the guests should not be allowed to suspect that their host has exhausted his resources, or that he might not be able to do this same thing at any time that he chose. as already suggested, the character of the entertainment in a private house should never be such as to involve a total departure from the habitual customs of the household. it is granted that provision must be made on a grander scale for larger numbers; the _quantity_ of things will necessarily be augmented, and mere bulk wears a certain air of the imposing, and when to this is added the vital element--the magnetism of a brilliant company--the participant will seem to breathe a rarified atmosphere, and to an extent to be exalted above the level of everyday life. yet that level should not be lost to sight nor cease to be the basis of measurement. the quality of elegant serving and mannerly eating should be just what is every day observed at the family dinner of the same household. the guest should get a correct idea of the home atmosphere of the house, even though it be slightly congealed by the formality and reserve which the presence of strangers naturally inspires. when people assume to entertain socially they should not give a false showing of themselves or of their means. the proudest spirit acknowledges the limitations of poverty with dignified truthfulness; it is the moral coward who seeks to hide these limitations by a greater display than his circumstances warrant. and he reaps as he sows. his "entertainments" fill an idle hour for the class of visitors who gravitate mainly to the supper-room, while the giver of the feast, under the tension of this social effort, suffers a weariness of the spirit as well as of the flesh, and gives a sigh of relief when the door closes upon the last guest, and the pitiful farce is declared "over." we wonder "why do they thus spend their strength for that which profiteth not?" surely, few things in the course of a misspent life are less profitable than such over-strained efforts at showy entertainment. the "banquet hall deserted" presents on the following day a grim reminder of the petty economies that for weeks hence must secretly be contrived in order to restore the balance of an overdrawn bank account. the folly of _living_ beyond one's means may have this extenuating feature, that it is often an error due to generous, though indiscreet impulse, or to inexperience; but the folly of spending money lavishly on a few ostentatious "spreads" that are "beyond one's means" has no redeeming points. the deception seldom long deceives. it is a social blunder, the effect of which is to depreciate rather than to enhance the social importance of the family thus entertaining. it will be understood that this refers to cases when the motive of extravagance is to gratify vanity. it does not mean to imply that the christmas dinner, or the birthday party, or the wedding anniversary may not be a time when all the energies of a poor and usually frugal household may be concentrated to prepare for one occasion of feasting and rejoicing. the cratchetts may have their roast goose; even the micawbers may be indulged in their occasional banquet. and the carefully planned birthday party may be all the more gratefully appreciated by the honored one when it is known that every choice provision for the occasion represents some thoughtful contriving and some self-sacrifice prompted by affection. such occasions are "red-letter days" in the homes of people of limited means; and pathos is never more delicately suggested than when the poor man forgets his poverty in the wealth of a home-gathering and a feast of remembrance. "let not a stranger intermeddle with their joy." in the two cases the financial conditions may seem to be parallel, but in essential spirit there is no resemblance. what is done from sentiment and affection is above commercial measurement. what is done for the sake of ostentation is, by its own act, made a legitimate object of popular criticism. another point of good taste in entertaining is that one who is wealthier than others of his social circle should not conspicuously outshine his neighbors by giving them a kind and degree of entertainment which will make their return of civilities seem poor and mean by comparison. unless the rich man is so greatly beyond others in the scale of wealth that comparisons cease to be odious, it is more considerate for him to keep within the degree of expense and display possible to the average of his associates. there is still another reason why the very rich should be chary of giving magnificent entertainments. the dazzled community, gazing spell-bound upon the spectacle of a flower-decked mansion, brilliant with colored lights and echoing to bewildering strains of music, is apt to forget, in this aggregation of the energies of florist, caterer, and band-master, the one man who is supposed to be, but is not, the author of this occasion. george (descanting on the glories of the "crush of the season")--"the music--the champagne--the----" montague--"ah! yes; and how did 'mine host' bear himself?" george--"the host! (ruefully). b'jove! i forgot to hunt him up!" unfortunately, mine host had allowed his surroundings to belittle himself. many a brilliant "social event" might properly be chronicled under the head-line: "total eclipse of the host!" so insignificant does the man become when he carries his standards of social entertaining in his pocket-book instead of in his brains. however, one need not be very rich in order to make this same mistake. it is made every time that social life ceases to be social, and becomes merely a contest of rival displays. this folly is observed in small villages quite as often as in the metropolis. in contrast, how refreshing it is to cross the threshold of a refined and cultivated home, and find awaiting us a cordial welcome and a genuine hospitality, so true to its author's personality and environment that whether water or wine be offered we know not, grateful that our host gives us his best, whatever it is, and, best of all, gives himself. afternoon receptions and teas fashions in entertaining have changed within the memory of "those now living." once, large parties were given, hundreds of invitations were issued, a house was crowded from veranda to attic, and the occasion was one of the few notable social events of the season. then came the fashion--partly for exclusiveness, partly for novelty, largely for convenience--of giving during the season several small parties or receptions, which in the aggregate might include all of one's visiting list. the disadvantage of this plan, as an exclusive method of solving the problem of social entertaining, was that slights were liable to occur, and were sure to be bitterly felt and resented. yet, what was a hostess to do? to go back to the old-time crowded party, superadding the increased luxury of modern entertaining, would be to re-establish an inconvenient and expensive fashion. but some way must be devised to bring one's friends together, in larger numbers, and with more prompt and direct expression of hospitality and good fellowship than could be conveyed by the slow and stately process of a series of dinners. "necessity is the mother of invention." someone, probably having reflected upon the easy social character of the english five o'clock tea, solved the problem for the american hostess by instituting the afternoon reception, which, somewhere between the hours of four and six, summons a host of friends to cross one's threshold and meet informally, chatting for a while over a sociable cup of tea, each group giving place to others, none crowding, all at ease, every one the recipient of a gracious welcome from the hostess, who by the hospitality thus offered has tacitly placed each guest on her visiting list for the season. the afternoon reception is much the same affair, whether it be a tea merely, or a _musicale_, or a literary occasion. if merely a reception, conversation and the desultory chat of society, the drifting about and the greeting of friends, and incidentally the cup of tea and its dainty accessories, fill a half-hour or so very pleasantly; and though inconsequent so far as any plan or motive is concerned, such meeting and mingling may have all the desired effect as a promoter of social pleasure and harmony. when a _musicale_ is given at these afternoon hours, usually it is in honor of some brilliant amateur, a pianist or singer, or, if the program is miscellaneous, a gifted elocutionist. or, it is an occasion when some lion of the professional stage has been captured, either socially or professionally, and the hostess gives to her less fortunate friends an opportunity to see and hear at close range the celebrity usually visible only through opera-glasses and beyond the foot-lights. or, some lady of well-known musical taste may be the patron of some newly-arrived professor of music; and she invites her musical friends to meet him, with the benevolent purpose to give him a profitable introduction to a promising class of patrons. when under any of these or similar conditions a formal program is arranged, the hour is fixed, and is stated on the invitation card; as "music at ." the guests should be prompt at the hour, so that no interruption or confusion shall occur. when the reception is merely social, guests come and leave at any time within the hours specified on the invitation card; as, "tea, to ." when admitted to the house each one hands a card to the servant in waiting. the guest repairs to the dressing-room to lay aside outer wraps, and attend to any detail of the toilet which wind or accident may have disarranged. upon entering the parlor each guest is greeted by the hostess, who stands near the door, surrounded by her aids. if her husband's name appears on the card of invitation, he, also, is in the receiving group, contributing, in so far as a man humbly may, to the success of the occasion. the aids, besides assisting in receiving the guests, are attentive to entertaining; and they see that no shy person is overlooked in the invitation to partake of refreshments. the tea is served in the same room when the guests are few, and in another room of the suite if the reception is large. usually a single table is set, with coffee or chocolate at one end, and tea at the other, served by young ladies, friends of the hostess. to be invited to preside at the coffee urn, or to manipulate the swinging tea-kettle, is accounted a high compliment. besides the tea, the refreshments, which are served from the table, may be very thin slices of bread and butter, or wafers, or similar trifles; but if the occasion approaches the nature of a formal reception, a more elaborate preparation is made; _bouillon_, oysters, salads, ice-cream and cakes, delicate rolls and bon-bons may be offered. the gradations by which the frugal tea passes into the superabundant supper are not easily classified. each hostess will judge how much or how little prominence to give to these provisions for the inner man. usually, however, very simple refreshments, daintily served, are all that is desirable, as the guests go home to their dinners. if a guest is a comparative stranger to others present, she is at liberty to address any one in a chatty, agreeable way, without introduction. also, if any one observes another guest who seems to be alone and neglected, it is a graceful and kind overture to open a pleasant conversation. one should not linger too long at an afternoon tea. three-quarters of an hour is a happy medium. allied to the afternoon tea are various phases of informal daytime entertaining. for example, there is the "shower" for a bride-elect ("linen," "culinary," or what you will). a friend of the bride-to-be invites a coterie of girl friends to meet the guest of honor, giving each girl time to provide some beautiful or useful gift, the presentations to be made with amusing ceremonies. the "thimble bee," a favorite diversion of the quiet matronly set, each one bringing her own bit of needlework to while away an hour or so in pleasant conversation. one of the number may read aloud, with pauses for comment at will. the thimble bee is a modern version of the good old-fashioned "spend the afternoon and take tea." both the shower and the thimble bee may be given in the forenoon, if preferred. the dinner service requisites for the dining-table _table-linen, etc._--table-cloths of white damask, double or single, as fine as the owner's purse admits, are used for the dinner-table, with large square white napkins to correspond. the table should first be covered with a mat of double-faced cotton flannel wide enough to fall six inches below the edge of the table, all around. this under mat greatly improves the appearance of the table-cloth, which can be laid much more smoothly over this soft foundation. besides, the mat protects the table from too close contact with hot dishes. small table mats for the purpose of protecting the cloth are not fashionable at present, though many careful housekeepers retain them rather than risk injury to fine table linen. carving-cloths are used when carving is done at the table, but are not needed when dinner is served _à la russe_. napkin rings are discarded by many who hold that a napkin should be used but once, and must be re-laundried before reappearing on the table. practically, such a fastidious use of table linen would exhaust most linen supplies, and overcrowd the laundry. the neat use of a napkin renders this extreme nicety superfluous as a rule of home dining, care should certainly be taken to remove all soiled table linen. nothing is more disgusting than a dirty napkin, but the snowy linen that comes spotless through one using may, with propriety, be retained in the ring to be used several times. this, of course, refers to every-day dining at home. on formal occasions no napkin rings appear on the table; the napkins are always fresh, and used for that time only. at the close of the dinner they are left carelessly on the table; not rolled or folded in any orderly shape. small fringed napkins of different colors are used with a dessert of fruits. fancy doylies of fine linen embroidered with silk are sometimes brought in with the finger-bowls; but these are not for utility, the dinner napkin doing service, while the embroidered "fancy" adds a dainty bit of effect to the table decoration. _china, glassware, cutlery, silverware, etc._--chinaware for the dinner service should be of good quality. fashions in china decoration are not fixed; the fancy of the hour is constantly changing, but a matched set is eminently proper for the dinner table, leaving the "harlequin" china for luncheons and teas. in the latter style the aim is to have no two pieces alike in decoration, or at least, to permit an unlimited variety; a fashion that is very convenient when large quantities of dishes are liable to be needed. but for a dinner served in orderly sequence, the orderly correspondence of a handsome "set" seems more in keeping. but even with this, the harlequin idea may come in with the dessert; fruit plates, ice-cream sets, after-dinner coffees, etc., may display any number of fantasies in shape and coloring. artistic glassware is a very handsome feature of table furnishing. carafes and goblets for water are always needed at dinner; wine glasses, possibly; and the serving of fruits and bon-bons gives opportunity to display the most brilliant cut-glass, or its comparatively inexpensive substitutes, which are scarcely less pretty in effect. fine glass is infinitely more elegant than common plated-ware, and though more liable to breakage is less trouble to keep in order. the best dinner-knife is of steel, of good quality, with handle of ivory, ebony, or silver. silver-plated knives are much used; they do not discolor so readily as steel, and are easily kept polished. they answer the purpose for luncheon, but they rarely have edge enough to be really serviceable at dinner or breakfast. many people who own solid silverware store it away in bank vaults and use its _fac simile_ in quadruple plate, and thus escape the constant dread of a possible burglar. for the sense of security that it gives, one may value the finest quality of plated ware, but it should be inconspicuous in style and not too profuse in quantity, since its utility, rather than its commercial value, should be suggested. any ostentation in the use of plated ware is vulgar. but one may take a pride and satisfaction in the possession of solid silver. every ambitious housekeeper will devise ways of securing, little by little, if not all at once, a neat collection of solid spoons and forks. the simplest table takes on dignity when graced with these "sterling" accompaniments. the fancy for collecting "souvenir" spoons, one at a time, suggests a way to secure a valuable lot of spoons without feeling the burden of the expense. yet, on the other hand, these spoons are much more expensive than equally good plain silver, the extra price being paid for the "idea;" but the expenditure is worth while to those who value historical associations. one may find in the silver-basket salient reminders of all important epochs in our national life, a sort of primer of united states history, to say nothing of the innumerable "souvenirs" of europe. its subtle testimony to the intelligent taste of its owner gives the souvenir collection its chief "touch of elegance." the towering "castor," once the central glory of the dinner table, is out of style. the condiments are left on the sideboard, and handed from there in case any dish requires them, the supposition being that, as a rule, the several dishes are properly seasoned before they are served. individual salt-cellars are placed on the table, and may be accompanied with salt spoons; if these are omitted, it is understood that the salt-cellar is emptied and refilled each time that it is used. on the family dinner-table the condiment line is not so severely drawn; vinegar in cut-glass cruets, mustard in satsuma pots, and individual "peppers"--in silver, china, or glass, and of quaint designs--are convenient and allowable. a table covered with white damask, overlaid with sparkling china and cut-glass, and reflecting the white light of polished silver, is a pretty but lifeless sight. add one magic touch--the centre-piece of flowers--and the crystallized beauty wakes to organic life. in arranging the modern dinner-table, when the service is to be _à la russe_, floral decorations are almost indispensable. without something attractive for the eye to rest upon, the desert stretch of linen looks like the white ghost of famine mocking the feast. the shape of the table, the available space, and the nature of the occasion decide the quantity and distribution of the flowers. it is a matter in which wide latitude is given to individual taste and ingenuity, original designs and odd conceits being always in order, subject only to the law of appropriateness. for a square or extra wide table a large centre-piece, either round or oblong, is usually chosen, with endless varieties in its component arrangement. it may be low and flat, like a floral mat, in the middle of the table, or it may be a lofty _epergne_, or an inter-lacing of delicate vine-wreathed arches, or a single basket of feathery maidenhair fern--in fact, anything that is pretty and which the inspiration of the moment may suggest. in early autumn, in country homes or in suburban villas, nothing is more effective than masses of golden-rod and purple asters, gathered by the hostess or her guests during their afternoon drive, and all the more satisfactory because of the pleasure taken in their impromptu arrangement. wild flowers should be neatly trimmed and symmetrically grouped to avoid a ragged or weedy appearance. fortunately, even quite elaborate floral decorations need not be expensive. nature has bestowed some of her choicest touches upon the lilies of the field, and an artistic eye discerns their possibilities. at the same time, art in floriculture has produced marvels, and those who can afford it may revel in mammoth roses and rare orchids, lilies of the valley in november, and red clovers in january, if it please them to pay the florist's bill for the same. for narrow "extension" tables, slender vases ranged at intervals may be the most convenient disposition of the flowers; or, if the ends of the table are not occupied, a broad, low basket may stand at each end, with a tall, slender vase in the middle of the table. on choice occasions a handsome centre-piece may be, for example, a large bowl of la france roses, with small bundles of the same (groups of three are pretty), tied with ribbon of the same hue, laid by each plate. any other single flower may be disposed similarly, or variety may rule, and no two floral "favors" be alike, in which case it is a delicate compliment to give to each guest a flower known to be a favorite, or one that seems especially appropriate--a lily to lilian, a daisy to marguerite, etc. these little marks of thoughtfulness never fail to be appreciated, and add much to the grace of entertaining. an elaborate centre-piece may stand upon a rich velvet mat, or on a flat mirror provided for the purpose. the latter is a clever idea for a centre-piece of pond-lilies or other aquatic plants, simulating a miniature lake, its edges fringed with moss or ferns. the formal arrangement of the dinner-table the mat is first adjusted upon the table, and the table-cloth smoothly and evenly laid over it. the cloth should fall about half-way to the floor all around. the floral accessories are then put in place; and also the fruits and bon-bons, which may be commingled with the flowers in working out a decorative design, or they may be placed, in ornamental dishes, at the four corners of a wide table, to balance the flowers in the centre; or, they may be arranged along the middle of a long table. for fruit, silver-gilt baskets, or _epergnes_ of glass are especially pretty. the fruit may later constitute a part of the dessert, or may be merely ornamental in its office. carafes containing iced water are placed here and there on the table, at convenient points. the next step is the laying of the covers; a cover signifying the place prepared for one person. for a dinner in courses a cover consists of a small plate (on which to set the oyster plate), two large knives, three large forks (for the roast, the game, and _entrées_), one small knife and fork (for the fish), one tablespoon (for the soup), one oyster-fork. the knives and forks are laid at the right and left of the plate, the oyster-fork and the spoon being conveniently to hand. a glass goblet for water is set at the right, about eight inches from the edge of the table; if wine is to be served the requisite glasses are grouped about the water goblet. the napkin is folded square, with one fold turned back to inclose a thick piece of bread; or, the napkin may be folded into a triangle that will stand upright, holding the bread within its folds. this is the only way in which bread is put on the dinner-table, though a plate of bread is on the sideboard to be handed to those who require a second piece. it is entirely proper to ask for it, when desired. butter is not usually placed on the dinner-table, but is handed from the sideboard if the _menu_ includes dishes that require it; as, sweet corn, sweet potatoes, etc. small butter-plates are included in the "cover" in such cases. the oysters, which form the initial course, are usually on the table before the guests take their places. a majolica plate, containing four or six of the bivalves with a bit of lemon in the midst, is placed at each cover; or, oyster cocktails may be served. the soup tureen and plates are brought in to the side table. all is now in readiness. the arrival of guests--meanwhile while these preparations have been going on in the dining-room, the guests have been assembling in the drawing-room. it is proper to arrive from five to fifteen minutes before the hour mentioned in the invitation, allowing time to pay respects to the host and hostess, without haste of manner, before the dinner is announced. a gentleman wears a dress suit at dinner. a lady wears a handsome gown, "dinner dress" being "full dress;" differing, however, from the evening party or reception gown in the kind of fabrics used. the most filmy gauzes are suitable for a ball costume; while dinner dress--for any but very young ladies--is usually of more substantial materials--rich silk or velvet softened in effect with choice lace, or made brilliant with jet trimmings. when the dinner party is strictly formal, and the company evenly matched in pairs, the following order is observed: each gentleman finds in the hall, as he enters, a card bearing his name and the name of the lady whom he is to take out; also, a small _boutonnière_, which he pins on his coat. if the lady is a stranger, he asks to be presented to her, and establishes an easy conversation before moving toward the dining-room. the announcement of dinner when dinner is ready the fact is made known to the hostess by the butler, or maid-servant, who comes to the door and quietly says "dinner is served." a bell is never rung for dinner, nor for any other formal meal. the host leads the way, taking out the lady who is given the place of first consideration; the most distinguished woman, the greatest stranger, the most elderly--whatever the basis of distinction. other couples follow in the order assigned to them, each gentleman seating the lady on his right. the hostess comes last, with the most distinguished male guest. if there is a footman, or more than one, the chairs are deftly placed for each guest; but if only a maid is in waiting, each gentleman arranges his own and his partner's chairs as quietly as possible. as soon as the company are seated, each one removes the bread; and the napkin, partially unfolded, is laid across the lap. it is not tucked in at the neck or the vest front, or otherwise disposed as a feeding-bib. it is a towel, for wiping the lips and fingers in emergencies, but should be used unobtrusively--not flourished like a flag of truce. the serving of the dinner the servant is ready to hand from the side-board any condiments desired for the oysters, which are promptly disposed of. it may be remarked at the outset, that everything at table is handed at the left, _except wine_, which is offered at the right. ladies are served first. after the oyster-plates are removed, the soup is served from the side table--a half ladleful to each plate being considered the correct quantity. the rule regarding soup is double, you must, and you must not. you must accept it (whether you eat it or merely pretend to), but you must not ask for a second helping, since to do so would prolong a course that is merely an "appetizer" preparatory to the substantials. the soup-plates are removed, and the fish immediately appears, served on plates with mashed potatoes or salad, or sometimes both, in which case a separate dish is provided for the salad. the _entrées_ follow the fish, hot plates being provided, as required. dishes containing the _entrées_ should have a large spoon and fork laid upon them, and should be held low, so that the guest may help himself easily. again the dishes are removed. here we may pause to remark that the prompt and orderly removal of the dishes after each successive course is a salient feature of skillful waiting. the accomplished waiter never betrays haste or nervousness, but his every movement "tells," and that, too, without clatter, or the dropping of small articles, or the dripping of sauces. the plates, etc., vanish from the table--whither, we observe not. the waiter in the dining-room must have the co-operation of the servant behind the scenes, to receive and convey the relays of dishes to the kitchen. however it is managed, and it _must be managed_, the nearer the operation can appear to be a "magic transformation," the better. to return; the roast is the next course. the carving is done at the side table. guests are consulted as to their preference for "rare" or "well-done;" and the meat, in thin slices, is served on hot plates, with vegetables at discretion on the same plate, separate vegetable dishes--except for salads--not being used on private dinner tables. certain vegetables, as sweet corn on the cob, may be regarded as a course by themselves, being too clumsy to be disposed of conveniently on a plate with other things. the game course is next in order (if it is included, as it generally is in an elaborate dinner). celery is an appropriate accompaniment of the game course. the salad is sometimes served with the game; otherwise it follows as a course by itself. the salad marks the end of the heavy courses. the crumb tray is brought, and the table-cloth is cleared of all stray fragments. a rolled napkin makes a quiet brush for this purpose, especially on a finely polished damask cloth. the dessert is now in order. finger-bowls and doylies are brought in on the dessert-plates. each person at once removes the bowl and doyley to make ready for whatever is to be put on the plate. ices, sweets (pastry and confections), cheese, follow in course; and, finally, the fruits and bon-bons. strong coffee is served last of all, in small cups. fashion decrees _café noir_, and few lovers of cream care to rebel on so formal an occasion as a dinner; but when the formality is not too rigid, the little cream jug may be smuggled in for those who prefer _café au lait_. water is the staple drink of the american dinner-table. a palatable table water, like apollinaris, well iced, is an elegant substitute for wine when habit or conscience forbids the latter. when wine is served with the different courses at dinner, the appropriate use is as follows: with soup, sherry; with the fish, chablis, hock, or sauterne; with the roast, claret and champagne; after the game course, madeira and port; with the dessert, sherry, claret, or burgundy. after dinner are served champagne and other sparkling wines, just off the ice, and served without decanting, a napkin being wrapped around the wet bottle. while wine may be accounted indispensable by many, the growing sentiment in favor of its total banishment from the dinner-table has this effect on the etiquette of the case, that the neglect to provide wine for even a very formal dinner is not now the breach of good form which it would have been held to be some years ago. such neglect has been sanctioned by the example of acknowledged social leaders; and when it is the exponent of a temperance principle it has the respect of every diner-out, whatever his private choice in the matter. no _gentleman_ will grumble at the absence of wine at his host's table. it is good form for a host to serve or _not_ serve wine, as he chooses; it is very bad form for his guest to comment on his choice. when any one who is conscientiously opposed to wine-drinking, or for any reason abstains, is present at a dinner where wine is served, he declines it by simply laying his hand on the rim of his glass as the butler approaches. no words are necessary. apollinaris will take the place of stronger waters, and no embarrassment follows to either host or guest. as to the moral involved, a silent example may be quite as influential as an aggressive exhibition of one's principles. questions of manners and morals are constantly elbowing one another, and it is a nice point to decide when and how far duty requires one to defy conventionality. it is safe to say that only in extreme cases is this ever necessary, or even permissible. the hostess who simply _does not offer wine to any guest under any circumstances_, is using her influence effectively and courteously, especially when she supplies the deficiency with delicious coffee and cocoa, fragrant tea, and, best and _rarest_ of all, crystal clear, sparkling cold water. by pointing out a "more excellent way," she is adding to her faith _virtue_. miscellaneous points extra knives and forks are brought in with any course that requires them. the preliminary lay-out is usually meant to provide all that the scheme of the dinner will call for; but one must have a goodly supply of silver and cutlery to avoid altogether the necessity for having some of it washed and returned to the table during the progress of the dinner. it is very desirable to be amply equipped, as it facilitates the prompt and orderly serving of the courses. fruit-knives are required, and ice-spoons, orange-spoons, and other unique conceits in silver utensils may be provided with the dessert, if one happens to own them; otherwise, plain forks and spoons do duty as required. the fork bears the chief burden of responsibility, being used for everything solid or semi-solid, leaving the spoon to the limited realm of soft custards and fruits that are so juicy as to elude the tines of the fork. the knife is held in hand as little as possible, being used only when cutting is actually necessary, the fork easily separating most vegetables, etc. in the fish course, however, the knife is used to assist in removing the troublesome small bones. in holding the knife the fingers should not touch the blade, except that the forefinger rests upon the upper edge not far below the shank when the cutting requires some firmness of pressure. the dinner knife should be sharp enough to perform its office without too much muscular effort, or the possible accident of a duck's wing flying unexpectedly "from cover" under the ill-directed stress of a despairing carver's hand. i have seen the component parts of a fricasseed chicken leave the table, not _untouched_--oh! no; every one had been _sawing_ at it for a half-hour--but uneaten it certainly was, for obvious reasons. the cutlery was pretty, but practically unequal to even spring chicken. the fork is held with the tines curving downward, that position giving greater security to the morsel, and is raised laterally, the points being turned, as it reaches the mouth, just enough to deposit the morsel between the slightly-parted lips. during this easy movement the elbow scarcely moves from its position at the side, a fact gratefully appreciated by one's next neighbor. what is more awkward than the arm projected, holding the fork pointing backward at a right angle to the lips, the mouth opening wide like an automatic railway gate to an approaching locomotive--the labored and ostentatious way in which food is sometimes transported to its destination? nor, once in the mouth, is it lost to sight forever. other people, seated opposite, are compelled to witness it in successive stages of the grinding process, as exhibited by the constant opening and shutting of the mouth during mastication, or laughing and talking with the mouth full--faults of heedless people of energetic but not refined manners. liquids are sipped from the side of the spoon, without noise or suction. in serving vegetables the tablespoon is inserted laterally, not "point first." celery is held in the fingers, asparagus also, unless the stalks are too tender. green corn may be eaten from the cob, a good set of natural teeth being the prime requisite. it may be a perfectly graceful performance if daintily managed. the management of fruits in the dessert is another test of dainty skill. oranges may be eaten in different ways. very juicy fruit may be cut in halves across the sections and scooped out with a spoon. the drier "seedless" oranges are better peeled and separated. with a fruit knife, remove the tough skin of each peg, leaving enough dry fiber to hold it by, in conveying it to the mouth. practice enables one easily to "make way with" an orange. bananas are cut in two, the skin removed; the fruit is held in the fingers, or--preferably--eaten with a fork. juicy pears and peaches may be managed in the same way, at discretion, the rule being that the fingers should touch as little as possible fruits that are decidedly mushy. the finger-bowl stands ready to repair all damages of the nature suggested. the fingers are dipped in the water and gently rinsed, and then passed lightly over the lips, and both mouth and fingers are wiped upon the napkin. at a signal from the hostess, the ladies rise and return to the drawing-room. the gentlemen follow immediately, or remain a short time for another glass of wine, when such is the provision of the host. dinner-table talk the conversation at the dinner-table should be general, unless the company is large, and the table too long to admit of it. but in any case, each one is responsible first of all for keeping up a pleasant chat with his or her partner, and not allowing that one to be neglected while attention is riveted on some aggressively brilliant talker at the other end of the table. no matter how uninteresting one's partner may be, one must be thoughtful and entertaining; and such kind attention may win the life-long gratitude of a timid _débutante_, or the equally unsophisticated country cousin. dinner-table talk should be affable. the host and hostess must be alert to turn the conversation from channels that threaten to lead to antagonisms of opinion; and each guest should feel that it is more important just now to make other people happy than to gratify his impulse to "floor" them on the tariff question. in short, at dinner, as under most social conditions, the watchword ever in mind should be, "not to myself alone." informal dinners the informal dinner, daily served in thousands of refined american homes, is a much less pretentious affair than the name "dinner" technically implies. in most cases the service is but partially _à la russe_, most courses, and all the _entrées_, being set on the table, the serving and "helping" being done by some member of the family; the presence of a waitress being sometimes dispensed with except at transition points; as, when the table is cleared before the dessert. this formality is the most decided dinner feature of the meal, which throughout its progress has been conducted more like a luncheon. yet, in all essential points of mannerliness, the family dinner is governed by the same rules that control the formal banquet. it is perhaps needless to remark that the _diner à la russe_ in its perfection cannot be carried out without a number of competent servants. these may be hired when some special occasion warrants extra preparations for due formality. but for customary "entertaining," those who "live quietly," with possibly but one domestic to assist with the dinner, will show good sense in not attempting anything more imposing than they are able to compass successfully. the "family dinner" has a dignity of its own when in keeping with all the conditions; and though its _menu_ may be simple, its service unpretentious, it may be the gracious exponent of a hospitality "fit for a king." at the informal dinner it is customary to seat the guests in the order in which they enter the dining-room, without assigning any place of distinction; all the places at table being held of equal honor--comfort and convenience being the things chiefly considered. luncheons the most elastic word in the whole vocabulary of entertaining is the term _luncheon_. it is applied to a mid-day meal occurring any time between a. m. and p. m., and may mean anything, from a brilliant _à la russe_ banquet, to the hastily gathered together fragments left from yesterday's dinner. it may describe an hour of absolute leisure, and the most delightful conversational interchange, or it may signify the five minutes' grab from the side-board between the games of a closely-contested amateur tennis tournament. in general, we may say that the most formal of luncheons, resembling the dinner in the main features of its serving, has these points of distinction; the number of guests is irregular, usually uncertain, they go to the table singly; they come dressed in any way that the hour of the day, or their recent occupations warrant--men dropping in dressed for business or sporting, and ladies in promenade costumes, with bonnets or hats; the hour is not rigidly fixed,--luncheon, being largely of cold dishes, is not spoiled by a half-hour's tardiness--a late comer is greeted as cordially as the first arrival; and "the more the merrier" seems to be the motto of the hostess who keeps "open house" at luncheon time. the formal luncheons for which engraved invitations are issued, are usually "ladies' luncheons;" and the formality of the serving is equalled by the elegance of the toilets. men have little leisure for day-time entertainments, except during the brief outing at some summer resort, where the easy-going lunch is the ruling fashion. the _menu_ of the cold luncheon may present great variety, and provide for many guests with little trouble. for a smaller, or more definite, number a hot luncheon may be prepared--a tender steak with mashed potatoes and asparagus, or something equally simple--and a dessert of cakes, ice-cream, and fruits; in all respects a little "informal dinner." the large buffet luncheon, like the four o'clock tea, gives opportunity for displaying all the pretty china that one owns. flowers and fruits may decorate the table or tables, and the most artistic effects may be secured by a little attention to blending and grouping. a hostess _who knows how_ can make her rooms look like a festal bower for these occasions without much money outlay; and if she also is clever in the compounding of made dishes and salads, she can give luncheons that are remembered as the epitome of good style, albeit the bills for the same were surprisingly small. such a gifted woman enjoys a sense of exultation that is unknown to her richer sister, who merely fills out a cheque for the cost and leaves all else to the caterer, as one must, when the luncheon is given at a club or tea room. in general, the buffet luncheon is much the same on all occasions, when entertaining large companies at home. the difference is not so much in the way of serving, as in the kind of refreshments proffered. the tea may be a light affair, if you will; merely a bit and a sip for good fellowship. but the luncheon is one of the solid meals of the day, requiring something substantial. such sustaining things as chicken salad, appetizing sandwiches, bouillon (hot or jellied), cold sliced ham, with relishes, as celery, olives, seasonable fruits, etc., satisfy the normal hunger at noontime; and delicious cakes and ices with coffee make a festal finale. almost any attractive luncheon dish may be included, preferably things that are not hurt by standing; as the luncheon service for a large party fills an hour or two. for this reason, coffee is the most manageable beverage to serve. the refreshments are arranged on the dining-table. a fine table-cloth may be used; or handsome doylies if the table itself is of handsome finish. the salad bowl is set on one side, the platters of sandwiches, etc., on the other; with the coffee urn at one end, the ices at the other, if there is room; otherwise, the cake and ices are served from a side table. another side table is desirable, to hold the stacks of dishes and napkins. as the hostess must give her entire attention to receiving her guests, she intrusts the oversight of the dining-room to several matrons, who are aided by a bevy of the younger girls (the young men also, at an evening party). at the proper time these young people pass the napkins and plates (usually with the salad already served) to the guests scattered around the rooms. other things are promptly brought, the coffee being served immediately after, by another set of helpers. since all cannot be seated, small tables placed here and there in the suite of rooms will give the standing ones a chance to set a coffee cup down now and then. candy in tiny reception sticks may be passed with the cake; or bonbon dishes may be set in unexpected places about the rooms, where any one who discovers them may nibble at will. the family waitress, with extra help if needed, should be in attendance near the dining-room exit, to receive the used dishes and remove them at once from the scene. this is a nice point; for a congestion of dishes in the dining-room spoils the effect of an otherwise well-managed service. the maid will also keep the stack of plates, etc., replenished; and she will carry back and forth from the pantry the salad bowl and platters for replenishing. cutlery is limited to a fork for the salad, a spoon for the coffee, and a fork or spoon for the ice cream. the ices may be in fancy individual shapes, if one chooses to take that much trouble; but the brick, brought in ready sliced for serving, is always suitable, and easier to manage. much of this is so generally understood that further details seem superfluous. the least experienced hostess need not be overanxious about small points, if the general order is observed; for luncheon guests are a genial crowd, and nobody notices little mishaps. i am assuming that your guests are all very nice people, in sympathy with you, and aiding you to the extent of their ability to make things pleasant. those who have this sincere disposition need no instruction in behavior. each one's conduct will be guided by her own instinctive sense of propriety. one who is habitually polite is not likely to make any blunders at a luncheon, since there are no rigid conventionalities to be infringed. if the luncheon hour is much past noon, the guests should be careful not to remain too long after, as they might thus be detaining the hostess from later afternoon engagements. suppers a supper is a late evening meal, and may be an entertainment by itself, or be served in connection with some social event. a supper is understood to consist prevailingly of hot dishes, which distinguishes the supper from the collation--which might be served on similar occasions--and which is mainly of cold dishes. the distinction is not absolute, however. a formal supper, or banquet, is served _à la russe_, and resembles the dinner in its general conduct; but instead of the heavy roast and vegetables, the game is the conspicuous course, and various preparations of oysters, lobster, terrapin, etc., crowd the _menu_ card, with salads of all kinds. nine o'clock is a fashionable hour for the sit-down supper. the supper served at a dance or a reception is timed to suit the leading features of the evening. the _menu_ for these "crush" suppers covers the ground of the hot supper and the cold collation combined, and there are few things within the range of dainty cookery that are not permissible. the most "social" and enjoyable suppers--with the doctor's permission--are those that are served an home after the hostess and her guests have returned from the theatre or opera, lecture or concert. tiny biscuit, sandwiches, fried oysters, chicken salad, and golden coffee, with ice-cream and some superior cake, served like a luncheon, make a supper easily arranged, and one which winds up a pleasant evening in a very satisfactory way. breakfasts a formal breakfast has little distinctive character. it differs very slightly from an early luncheon, except that the viands are more distinctly breakfast dishes; as, toast, hot muffins, omelettes and other preparations of eggs, delicate farinaceous foods, _café au lait_, etc. if it is the veritable breaking of the fast the guests must be very late risers indeed, as o'clock, or even , noon, is a fashionable hour for this so-called breakfast, which is a phase of social entertaining reserved for the "leisure class," or only at odd intervals possible to people of active pursuits. the morning hours are precious to the hurried man of business, and the care-environed housekeeper; and "promptness and dispatch" is the motto of the breakfast table in most houses. the _real_ breakfast of everyday life is the meal where we least expect to meet guests--unless it be some one who is staying at the house. it is a rare thing for a friend to "drop in" to breakfast, and to invite him to do so is perhaps the rarest expression of hospitality, and will probably remain so, while we remain a nation of brain and hand workers. during the summer vacation, when we pause for a breathing spell, no more charming hospitality can be offered than a dainty breakfast, especially in the country. it may be the preliminary to an all-day house party, or a picnic excursion; or the breakfast may be the goal of an early morning drive by carriage or motor, and the hour may be early or late, just as you please; for is not vacation a period of emancipation from the tyranny of the clock? but let not the hour be too early, for tired people are heavy sleepers; yet not too late either, lest the heat of the sun may have become too suggestive of the approaching noon-tide; late enough for weary eyelids to unclose willingly, early enough for the fresh dewy odor still to cling to the vines on the porch. the conventional breakfast in town is given very seldom as compared with dinners and luncheons. it is peculiarly a holiday hospitality, reserved until the men are at leisure; for breakfast without the man of the house would be hamlet with the prince left out. there is another significant distinction: the guests are chosen from the inner circle. when, on christmas morning, mr. and mrs. a. entertain mr. and mrs. b. and mr. and mrs. c. at breakfast, we infer at once their intimate friendship and congenial companionship. one may lunch impersonally with comparative strangers; one may dine formally touching elbows with one's dearest foe but one does not of choice breakfast with any one but a friend, or a friend of a friend--graciously accepted on trust. breakfast is the most intimate breaking of bread; not even the festive elaboration can make the friendly breakfast seem like anything but "playing at" formality. the service is essentially the same as it usually is in that household, except that the children are not at the table. the more homelike it is, the better; for home atmosphere is revealed as at no other meal, and on no other occasion can a visitor be made to feel so entirely "one of the family." the guests remain but a short time after a breakfast, chatting in a leisurely way, but leaving rather promptly. the problem of the family breakfast is complicated by the modern stress of business life. in suburban towns the typical "commuter" must flee away with little ceremony; for the : will not wait, and the : is a way train. in most families breakfast is on the european plan, so to speak. for this very reason, perhaps, the occasional holiday breakfast is the more attractive. with no train to "catch," no boat to "make," no office hours to "keep," no demon of driving work to lash one to the treadmill, how delightful to be able to breakfast with the serenity of the genial "autocrat" himself; and how very odd it seems to find oneself sociably disposed at this unwonted hour! may it not convey the gentle admonition that we might be more social every day, if we only thought so? psychologically, the breakfast is peculiar. it is the first commingling of the day; and whether it be the late holiday feast, or the usual family gathering, it sets the pace for the twenty-four hours. a cheerful start in the morning may give an optimistic momentum for all-day hill-climbing; or, one may slip dejectedly down hill if leaden-weighted with a "morning grouch" (one's own, or somebody else's). even fellow "boarders" might reflect on this, with profit. preoccupied with our own affairs, we forget to be mutually considerate. we habitually wake to rush and worry, taking social recreation chiefly at the close of day, when too weary to appreciate it. might it not sometimes be well to get ourselves into a good humor the first thing in the morning, and then work afterward? few people are of such a happy, self-contained disposition that they do not need the sustaining influence of other cheerful spirits. most of us would have more of sunshine in our hearts if the first business of the morning had been to put ourselves in harmony with our fellow-creatures socially. and if we cannot do this every day, nor even often, according to our ideal, we at least doubly appreciate the rare occasions when it has been possible, and we feel impulsively grateful to the hostess whose thoughtful kindness has made our holiday so bright at its dawning. other ways of entertaining may be more imposing; none are more delightful. bid whom you will to dine with you, but ask me to _breakfast_. evening parties this general term includes a variety of social entertainments, and suggests all degrees of formality, from the stately reception to the "surprise party." with a range so varied, classification is not readily made. some features are always present: a host and hostess always receive; a guest always first pays his respects to his entertainers, and then mingles agreeably with the throng. he makes himself useful in any way that tact and courtesy suggest. supper is served, usually the buffet collation. it is more formal, and less confusing, if the guests go to the dining-room--convenient numbers at a time--instead of being served in the parlors, as at a luncheon. on formal occasions professional readers and musicians are often engaged as entertainers. sometimes the amusement is furnished by clever amateurs among the guests, who may read, sing, or whistle, or what not. in a circle where all are well acquainted, some of the pleasantest evening parties are those to the success of which each one contributes his mite, cheerfully singing in the chorus when nature has denied him a solo voice, and not allowing any dark jealousy of superior gifts to deprive the harmony of his one little note. invitations to these informal parties are cordial and personal in tone. if the guest is expected to make preparation, in costume or to fill some part on the programme, that fact is briefly stated. for practical suggestions, consult "parlor games," adding any novel features that you can devise. a hostess with original ideas for entertainments is always successful and popular. elderly people as well as the young enjoy these parties; and they are a safe resource for mixed companies, when a form of entertainment must be chosen that will please all and offend none. children's parties, usually afternoon affairs, are often merely childish "good times"; but again, they are conducted in close imitation of an evening party for adults, and thus made a means of education in the social ceremonial. when sensibly managed, the children's party affords a fine opportunity for training the little people in polite manners. when the children are almost grown up, but not "out," pleasant little parties for "the younger set" are given by the mothers, to accustom the "buds" to conventionalities, and prepare the débutantes and their young brothers to take their place gracefully in the larger social world. these younger-set parties are like a grown-up party, except that they are conspicuously chaperoned, and all responsibility is assumed by the mothers and godmothers. the two extreme phases of the evening party are the conventional ball, and the rural "sociable." the special requirements for a ball are good music, and large well-ventilated rooms, from which all superfluous furniture has been removed. for music, an orchestra of four or six pieces may be sufficient. for space, we must make the best of what we have, if the ball is given at home. this is practicable only where the rooms are reasonably spacious. nowadays, a ball in a private house is rare, for hotels, clubs, and first class caterers furnish charming ballrooms for rental to exclusive patrons. but whether in her own house or in a hired ballroom, the hostess is for the time "at home"; and the general conduct of the ball is the same in both cases. decorations, floral and otherwise, are important; and a supper, served either during the progress, or at the close of the dance--or both--is an indispensable feature. the guests arrive at the hour designated, not earlier than nine o'clock. the hostess is stationed at some point near the entrance of the drawing-room, where she remains during the evening to receive the guests, who must pay their respects to her, first of all. a gentleman will also lose no time in finding his host, and paying him the courtesy of a deferential greeting. as the hostess cannot delegate her special duty of receiving, she has usually several aids, young matrons, who keep a watchful eye upon the dancing throng, and see to it that partners are not lacking for those who might otherwise be overlooked; and in any way that the emergency may suggest, or tact devise, they radiate the hospitality from its centre--the hostess. a gentleman in american society does not ask a lady to dance until he has been introduced to her. he may seek an introduction for this purpose, or the hostess may request him to be introduced. in either case, the lady and the gentleman both cheerfully acquiesce. a lady usually accepts the invitation to dance, unless the dance is already engaged. she should be careful to inspect her tablets; and not promise the same dance to two different partners, an awkward accident that sometimes happens to a heedless belle. after a dance, a gentleman promenades with his partner, chats with her for awhile, and, finally, with a graceful bow, leaves her once more in the care of her chaperone. if a man has made an engagement to take a particular lady out to supper, he must not forget himself and linger talking to another lady until supper is fairly announced, since etiquette then requires him to take out the lady with whom he is at the moment talking. he should seek the one he has chosen, some moments before, and leave the other lady free to receive other invitations to supper. any gentleman who observes a lady who is not being served with refreshments, should courteously offer to bring her something. if he is a total stranger he will attempt no conversation beyond the civilities of the case; but these he will cordially though unobtrusively offer. the young man who does these little things with the gentle grace of a knight errant, may not know that he is simply charming, from a woman's standpoint; but the fact remains. a ball, proper, is a strictly formal affair. a dancing party, while observing similar regulations on the dancing floor, may be, in the social intervals between dances, as informal as a village "sociable." that is to say, as informal as the sociable ever _ought_ to be; possibly not as informal as the sociable sometimes _is_. people who have "grown up" together, as villagers often have, are apt to consider a life-long acquaintance the proper basis for unlimited off-hand familiarity. to a certain extent, and in a certain sense, such acquaintance, being second in intimacy only to near relationship, does warrant a cordial and trustful informality. the cautious reserve that marks one's conduct toward a recent acquaintance might justly be resented by a tried and trusted friend of one's youth. but even relationship does not warrant undignified behavior, or rude liberties of speech or action. the boy and girl who went to school together grow up to be the young man and woman of society; and while the memory of school days is a bond of hearty friendliness between them, it is not necessary that they should evince their mutual regard by a free-and-easy demeanor. country sociables, attended largely by the younger members of families long acquainted and associated, are apt to be rather rollicking, not to say "rough and tumble," affairs, where practical jokes and unmerciful "guying" are the characteristic wit, and such smart tricks as bumping an unsuspecting comrade's head against the wall are applauded with shrieks of admiring laughter. the onlookers may be excused for their tacit countenance of the rudeness, since some element of drollery--that might have been wit, under better conditions--compels a smile, in spite of a dignified disapproval of the performance. a young student, unused to such scenes, standing a little apart from such a group once remarked judicially to a lady near him, "i do not care for such _dare-devil sociability_." nor would other young people cherish it as their ideal of a "good time" if they could learn how much more charming altogether it is to exchange the delicate courtesies that make up refined social companionship. the difference in social culture is what distinguishes the vulgar wag from the urban wit. the crude humor of the former, often marred by coarseness, is like ore in which the dross greatly out-weighs the pure metal. the brilliant _mots_ of the latter, refined by the processes of culture, are like the gold nuggets separated from their base surroundings. how to eliminate the "dare-devil" from the sociability of country life, without substituting an artificial stiffness, is the problem for every thoughtful and refined man and woman in rural circles. how to "be kindly affectioned one to another, in brotherly love, in honor preferring one another"--perhaps that would furnish the keynote of it all, alike for the citizen and the rustic. the twentieth century the preceding chapters describe established customs in home entertaining. such rules remain in force for the home conditions. but who can live in this electric-motor age without noting the gradual variation in "the ways of doing things"--changes that are directly traceable to the influence of modern inventions? the trolley lines have brought large areas within the city limits; the swift automobile has reduced miles to furlongs. town and country are intermingled as never before, and each is sensibly modified by the other. by its very name, the "town and country" club recognizes this new community of interests. its members, living even twenty miles away, outdo sheridan's ride, in arriving at the club on time for luncheon, golf, or dinner. which brings to mind this fact: that to-day a large part of formal entertaining in cities is no longer _at home_. elaborate dinners, teas, and luncheons are given at one's club, or at _cafés_, exclusive "tea rooms," and in the elegantly appointed private dining-rooms now provided by the best hotels. after-theatre suppers are almost invariably taken at a fashionable restaurant--doubtless greatly to the relief of both the hostess and her housemaids. while cooperative housekeeping is still an undeveloped scheme, things seem to be trending that way. the multiplication of huge apartment houses (and diminutive apartments) is the other prime factor in the case. while the hotel dinner may have come into fashion first as the dire necessity of the "cliff dwellers," its convenience appeals to many householders who formerly would not have dreamed of offering their guests the hospitality of a _café_. many conservative people still deplore the innovation; but fashion approves, and the custom grows. entertaining at one's club is governed by the rules of that particular club. when entertaining at tea rooms, or _cafés_, one has simply to arrange with the superintendent or the head waiter, for tables or private dining-room, for the date chosen; to choose the _menu_, and order the decorations. this done, the entertainers and their friends have but to appear at the stated hour and play their respective rôles with care-free grace. these dinners may be given by a bachelor, to a mixed company, or to a bevy of the débutantes, with the co-operation of a society matron or a married couple to chaperone the affair. this is a very pleasant way for a bachelor to make return for the social attentions showered on himself. this way of entertaining may be lavishly expensive, but it is not necessarily so; all things considered, it may not greatly exceed the cost of similar entertaining at home. in this land of the free, any one who will may give a tea room luncheon. but the semi-publicity of these functions invites criticism; and people of moderate income discreetly forbear attempting anything too ambitious for their obvious means. elegant simplicity is always good form. the universal use of the telephone is another factor in the modification of social customs. among familiar friends, the little chat over the 'phone largely takes the place of the informal call. also, invitations to any but strictly formal functions are now sent by telephone, if agreeable to both parties; though it is still considered better to adhere to the more respectful written form if there is any doubt about the new way being acceptable to the party of the second part. while i counsel conservatism in these changes, i am convinced that the new dynasty of wire and wireless is destined to dominate us; and as discovery continues and inventions multiply, the time is near when _immediate communication_ will be had at long range; possibly telepathy--who knows? or, possibly tele-photography with it--why not? then, the slow, laborious writing of messages will be as much out of date as the super-annuated stage-coach. but--not yet; we are still in the process of evolution. it is still safe to heed pope's famous advice: "be not the first by whom the new is tried, nor yet the last to lay the old aside." "the stranger that is within thy gates" it is the duty of the host or hostess to give a polite and cheerful welcome to the guest whom they have invited to cross their threshold. during the time that she remains under their roof they have the responsibility of making her comfortable, and as happy as possible. to do this, attention to details is of the greatest consequence. it is possible to give dinners, and _musicales_, and receptions for a guest, and to introduce her to a choice circle of friends; to plan drives and excursions for sight-seeing to points of interest; to bring out the best preserves from the store-room, and put on the table all the delicacies of the season; and yet something may be lacking. a subtle expression of discomfort may at times cloud the face of the guest, and greatly disturb the anxious hostess, who redoubles her efforts to think of something else in the way of entertainment and diversion. if this well-meaning hostess will accompany me to the guest-room while its temporary occupant is reading on the "front porch," perhaps i can point out to her some things that will give a clue to the mystery. the guest-room is large and airy, and "well-furnished," as the phrase goes, with a soft carpet prevailingly blue, and a prettily carved oaken "set." the bed is covered with a lace counterpane over a blue silk quilt, and downy pillows invite to slumber. curtains of blue silk and white lace are draped at the windows; cushions, tidies, sachets, gim-cracks of every description load the bureau, and lie around in profusion; a pretty rug of fluffy fur is spread before a comfortable couch, and a rocking-chair and foot-stool are in the cozy window recess. a small table with a vase of flowers upon it occupies one space against the wall. the wash-stand bears the regulation "toilet set," bowl and pitcher, soap-dish, etc., with the china jar set in the corner. plenty of damask towels hang on the rack, and the "splasher" is a marvel of needlework. well, is not this a pretty comfortable room? it seems ungracious to answer nay; but truth compels me to say that it proves to be a most _un_comfortable room, as managed. since the guest arrived, this three-quart pitcher has been filled each morning with cold water. beyond this, no offer of the aqueous element in any form has been made. the guest, accustomed at home to an abundance of hot water, and the luxury of a bath daily--or oftener, at will--has been suffering the greatest privation rather than trouble her hostess with a request for something which is so evidently not thought of in this house. with soap that "chaps," and a stiff nail-brush she has painfully scrubbed her cold knuckles to remove the grime which several days of imperfect ablution has rendered almost immovable--except as the skin comes with it. and as to her customary bath, she has substituted so much of hasty sponging as chattering teeth will allow, finishing off with a dry polish when prudence forbids further risk of a chill; and she has completed her toilet with a sense of self-disgust, and a dissatisfaction with her surroundings which makes her long for the day set for the termination if this visit, which might have been so pleasant, if she had been made physically comfortable. when she goes home she will answer, to the kind inquiries of her mother: "oh! yes; i had a lovely time!--or that is, i should have had, if only i could have had a _bath_!" whether it is that some people do not care for bathing, and therefore do not realize its necessity to the comfort of other people; or whether they have an idea that a "guest" is a being who, while in that _rôle_, needs none of the ordinary comforts of every-day life; or, whatever the reason may be, this failure to provide bath facilities is one of the most common and flagrant neglects of hospitality. when the guest-room has no private bath attached, and it is impracticable to offer the use of the family bath-room, a small tub of zinc or granite ware should be included in the furnishing of the guest-room, together with a square of thin oil-cloth to spread on the carpet. the guest should be informed that hot water is always in readiness to be brought to her room whenever she requires it. in country houses having no "modern conveniences," every kitchen stove may have an ample boiler always filled with clean water, so that at all times hot water may be available for bathing purposes. it is unpardonable to live without at least this much provision for an essential condition of civilized life--"the cleanliness that is next to godliness." in addition to the water supply, the guest-room should contain other requisites for a comfortable toilet. presumably, every guest who comes for a several-days' stay brings with her the small articles she will need; but oversights are frequent in hurried packing, and the resources of the guest-room should be equal to any such emergency, even though only a part of the provision is required in any one case. a neat, close cabinet, with a closet beneath and shelves above, is a desirable piece of furniture. in the closet the bath-tub can be stored, and bath-brushes, "loofahs," and sponges can be hung up while the shelves may hold a supply of toilet sundries; for example, a flask of bay rum, and one of violet-water; a bottle of spirits of ammonia, a bottle of alcohol, a spirit lamp and curling tongs, tooth-powder, rosewater, and glycerine; a jar of fine cold-cream, hair-brush and combs, a clothes-brush, a whisk broom, a reserve supply of soap--"ivory" (if the water is hard, this soap is superior for the bath) and fine castile, and a delicately-scented soap of first quality. the cheap "scented" abominations should not be inflicted on a guest. the dressing-table should have a supply of pins in variety, including hairpins; a work-box, containing needles and thread, a thimble, scissors, tape, shoe-buttons, etc. a bottle of cologne and also of some first-class "triple extract" should stand on the bureau. with all this provided, one is not likely to lack any comfort for the toilet; yet, with it all, the hostess should make her guest understand that the motto is: "if you don't see what you want, ask for it." this freedom will not be taken by a sensitive guest unless it is clearly invited. the self-complacent way in which a hostess sometimes ushers a guest into the "best room," and then leaves her to the mercy of what she can find--or, rather, _cannot_ find--forestalls all requests for additional supplies. in the midst of all the satin and lace flummery, it is pathetic to suffer in silence for the lack of a little beggarly hot water. and yet, such is the experience of many an "honored guest." beside the toilet comforts, there are other things that may well be added to the equipment of the guest-room. one, in particular, is a well-appointed little writing-desk, containing all the requisites for letter-writing, including stamps. perhaps the guest has brought these things with her, more likely she has forgotten them, and it may be a matter of great convenience to her to find this little desk awaiting her. if there is a shelf above, a selection of standard and entertaining books may be placed thereon. the bible, a book of common prayer, a hymnal, may be included; a copy of shakespeare, a dictionary, some clever and interesting book, like _curious questions_, and a volume or two of sketches and essays, ranging in style from emerson to jerome k. jerome, may agreeably fill the mid-day hour of rest which the guest takes in her room before dressing for the afternoon. the only trouble is that the guest who is made so thoroughly comfortable may forget to go home. at all events, she will no doubt hail with delight a second invitation to come. it may be objected that to keep the guest-room supplied to this extent would involve a considerable expense; but that would depend on the character of the guest. no well-bred woman would depend on these "supplies" for the entire period of a long visit. they are there to meet the emergency of a belated trunk, of something forgotten or overlooked, or the delays in making necessary purchases after her arrival. she will gratefully accept the cologne until her own flask is unpacked, but she leaves the guest-room supply but little diminished when she departs. the hostess who has been embittered by seeing only a train of empty bottles in the wake of a departing guest may naturally feel discouraged about offering unlimited hospitality in the matter of druggists' sundries. but it is merely that she has been unfortunate in her guests. she should revise her visiting list. in entertaining the right sort of people, she will have no such experience. she will be fully rewarded for every care she bestows to make her house a home-like resort, and she will find that the cost amounts to very little compared with the large return it brings in the way of social appreciation, to say nothing of the satisfaction afforded to her own benevolent impulses. "it is more blessed to give than to receive," as the ideal hostess can testify. "make yourself at home" the responsibilities of a visit are not all on the shoulders of a hostess. the guest has also a duty in the matter. the phrase of welcome quoted above is variously interpreted, if we may judge by the various ways in which the injunction is obeyed. to some people, "make yourself at home" is a free permit to take possession of everything on the premises; to cut the choicest roses in the garden, to call for the carriage at capricious will, to consult no one's comfort but their own, and to impose upon the polite forbearance of every one else, regardless--in short, to behave as no one can behave at home for any length of time without disrupting that home. to _make one's self_ at home is to _adapt one's self_ to one's environment. if things are different from what we are accustomed to, we must try to accustom ourselves to _them_, and the mannerly guest will strive to do this, not as a cross, but as a pleasure. she will meet cordially the friends of her hostess who are introduced to her, however little they attract her; she will cheerfully accompany the family to their church, even though it be of a different faith from her own; and she will listen respectfully to the sermon, and refrain from ungracious criticism of the choir or the minister. she will take an interest in any local happenings that are of vital interest to her entertainers; she will show lively appreciation of everything done for her entertainment, even though it may be but a commonplace and dull affair, in her private judgment. she will measure her grateful duty to them, not so much by the degree of pleasure which they actually give her, as by the amount of effort which they obviously make. it is very ungracious for a guest of wide social experience to be apathetic when some unsophisticated little hostess offers what to her seems a novel treat, but which to her worldly-wise guest is a threadbare device. no matter if the device is threadbare; the spirit of kindness which prompts the effort is immortal; and though we have seen "rainbow teas" until we are weary of them, we will enter cheerfully into the spirit of this one, because our little hostess in the innocence of her heart has worked so hard to make it ready in our honor. the guest should avoid giving extra trouble to the hostess, or to the servants. she may offer assistance when circumstances warrant her doing so, but must refrain from meddling with household matters when her help is evidently not desired. she should entertain herself easily when the hostess is otherwise busy, yet never seem to have any absorbing occupation that would prevent her from being ready at once to join the family in any project. if there are children in the house, she should be cordial and affectionate with them, without gushing insincerity or indiscreet petting, and she should not betray any annoyance if they are noisy and occasionally troublesome--as the best of children will be at times. she should aim to feel and act as though the interests and pleasures of the family were her own, and not make remarks that are tacit comparisons to their disadvantage. if there are glaring faults in the domestic management, it is not her province to correct them, except so far as a quiet example may be subtly influential, as it will be, if at heart she makes herself a part of the circle of sympathy. after her return to her own home, she should write a letter to her hostess, expressing the pleasure which the memory of her visit gives her, and gracefully thanking her friend for all that made the sojourn so restful and happy. there is something singularly inspiring in the idea of "making one's self at home," in the sense of finding the _value_ in every environment which fate, or chance, or providence may place us in. and when, as welcome guests, we listen to this hearty greeting, we resolve that in all ways consistent with our duty to our entertainers, and with all grateful appreciation of their kindness to us, we will "make ourselves at home." "as the twig is bent" every one theoretically admits the importance of early training. it is demonstrated in the animal and the vegetable kingdoms, wherever organic life unfolds and grows; and that the human child is no exception is promptly recognized in theory, however fatally practice ignores it. not that parents mean to ignore it; but there is a "happy-go-lucky" impression that somehow "he will come out all right;" that "as he gets older, his own good sense will assert itself," and so on. happily, this is partly true. a native good disposition and good sense saves many a child from the ruin which an unwise course of training has done its best to precipitate. the wonder is that they "turn out" as well as they do. perhaps providence, in visiting its judgments, is lenient to the young and inexperienced parents, themselves undisciplined; to the helpless child, at the mercy of his blind guides. there is too much negative, too little positive, in child-training; too much querulous reiteration of "don't," too little intelligent teaching how to _do_. little children like to be "shown how;" they are fascinated with the games and gifts of the kindergarten, which aims to _teach something_, not to _repress everything_. children are delighted to learn little polite phrases; to make a bow; to hold a fork daintily; to offer little courtesies, and to receive a smiling approbation. they would rather do things prettily than not. they are _not "contrary,"_ exceptional cases of hereditary ugliness aside. they are apt pupils, whether their tutor be a philosopher or a fool. and if a faulty example be a child's most constant and influential teacher, what wonder that the lessons, well-learned, are put in practice? and just then, if you listen, you will hear some one issue the emphatic but vacuous command, "don't!" and the baby _doesn't_, for the space of a few seconds; after which, unable to get any new suggestions out of the idea-less instructions given him, he proceeds to do the same thing over, only to be again commanded to desist, a spanking for "disobedience" this time varying the monotony of the universal prohibition. the profane poll-parrot is not a more startling witness to the character of its surroundings than the "terrible infant," whose rude snatchings, pert contradictions, and glib slang phrases are sure to be most effectively "shown off" in the presence of visitors. it is of little use to affect grieved surprise, or stern reprobation, when one's children are merely exhibiting their daily discipline. most parents feel keenly the embarrassment of having the infant misbehave so inopportunely, and they are apt to offer a tacit apology and a vague self-defense by sharply reprimanding the child in words that are meant to give the visitor the idea that they--the parents--never _heard_ or _saw_ such conduct before, and are now frozen with amazement. the nonchalant or incredulous or impish way in which the children receive these reproofs only confirms the suspicion that such scenes have been frequent, and the discipline attending them has been inconsequent. one parent i have heard acknowledge the truth of the matter. an elderly clergyman was his guest, and the four-year-old daughter of the house was entertaining the "grandpa" with a toy puzzle, which he fumbled with in vain, unable to put it together or to take it apart. impatient at last, the little girl hastily snatched it from his hand with a childish growl of contempt, and proceeded to show him the trick, saying, with an airy mingling of criticism and condescension, "by jove! your name is dennis; _you_ are not in it!" the old gentleman paused, instinctively prepared to hear the usual "why, daughter! papa is _astonished_ to hear his little girl," etc, etc., after the fashion of the parental hypocrite. but this candid young father met the dignified eyes squarely, and said promptly, "i'm sorry, doctor, but there's no use denying it; she is just giving _me_ away." he had the sense to recognize his own teaching, the honesty to admit it. whether he has the discretion to reform his methods remains to be seen. for right here is another point: that people think it is "cute" for a _little_ child to say and do things that in a child a few years older would be most unattractively rude. but they must reflect that this same cute little child will soon be a few years older, and will carry into that riper age the fixed habits that are forming now; and it will not be so easy a task to transform the child's manners as it is to dress him in a larger suit of clothes. a choice rose was grafted upon a wild, thorny stock, and planted beside a veranda trellis. the owner watched it carefully for a year or so, cutting down the rank shoots of the wild stock as they sprang aggressively from the root, allowing the grafted branch to grow in full luxuriance, bearing carmine clusters that filled the garden with spicy odor. the next spring an ignorant gardener pruned away the branches, cutting down the slenderest and leaving what to his unpracticed eye were the most desirable, because the thriftiest, shoots; and when the time of blossoms came, nothing appeared but the ragged petals of the wild thorn. so, in "the rosebud garden of girls"--or boys. if the choice graft of cultured manners (for it _is_ a graft on the sturdy but wayward stock of human nature) is left to be choked out by the rank, wild growth of impulse, or if by some flagrant error in example and discipline it is practically cut down at the main branch, what can the careless trainer expect? he may weep to find no velvet-petaled rose when he comes to look for it; but he has no right to blame the rose-bush, nor can he, at this late day, hide the tact of his blundering pruning by righteously affirming that he is "perfectly astonished." his neighbors, who have quietly noted the methods pursued in his kindergarten, are not in the least surprised. another resource for escaping blame is that of explaining that the children "learn these things at school." presumably they do not mean from the teachers. it is "from the other children," who seem to be a most injurious class of society. it is their influence which makes _our_ children so rude and so ungrammatical; and, strangely enough, though these other children never dine with our children, so subtle and far-reaching is their baleful influence that our children's defective manners at the table are directly traceable to the same evil source. granted, a measure of truth in the charge; for large mirthfulness and large imitation lead children to do things "just for fun," which all the time they know better than to persist in. but, as a fact, demonstrated by observation, a very small percentage of the children who are habituated to correct behavior at home are ever seriously affected by outside influences. a superficial effect may show in little things; but such lapses of speech or manner are transient, and in no degree control the development of the child when his home training is irreproachable. on the other hand, the efforts of an untiring teacher, laboring five hours a day to teach correct language and enunciation, may be of little permanent value, when the remaining hours of the day are spent in a home where the english grammar hourly meets a violent death. and what is true of grammar is equally true of morals and manners. the school and society may be measurably influential; but the home casts the deciding vote. and when people note the manners--good or bad--of your boys and girls, they do not ask, "what school do they attend?" "what children do they associate with?" but, "_whose children are they?_" would you have them mannerly? teach them; by precept, certainly; but above all things, by example. social young america henry the fifth, of england, disposed of certain troublesome restrictions of etiquette by remarking that "nice customs curtsey to great kings:" but in the twentieth century, customs are more likely to curtsey to the common sense of the community at large. city codes and country customs present some contradictious. the exact rules of etiquette in social formalities, which are derived from the established usage of fashionable circles in the city, are constantly subject to modifications when they are applied under the conditions found in rural neighborhoods. this is plainly illustrated in the comminglings of social "young america." whereas the city-bred girl is carefully chaperoned, the village girl of equal social standing, intrinsically speaking, is accustomed to go about unconcernedly, either alone or under the escort of some youth, with whom she makes engagements to drive, or walk, or row, or attend picnics, without either of them, as a rule, thinking it necessary to ask her mother to join them, or even to give her permission, that being taken for granted, since it has probably never been denied. and the question naturally arises, why _should_ it be denied, when the young man is a trusted chum of her brother, and as safe an escort for her as her own father would be? it is a very different case from the similar instance in the city, where the gallant is a comparative stranger, who may or may not be reliable, and where a conventional world is coldly looking on. but, moreover, if this young country girl chooses, she goes alone to a little evening party a few doors away, or to the evening "meeting" at the village church, and this same youth, or some other one, escorts her home in an impromptu fashion. the young lady probably invites him into the house, if the hour is early and the family are still circled about the parlor lamp. or, if it is late, she does not ask him in, but invites him to call. she does not thank him for his escort, unless it has been given at obvious inconvenience to himself or others, and is therefore not so much a matter of gallantry as of neighborly accommodation. in the latter case she does thank him frankly for his trouble. when the young man calls to see her, she receives him with or without the presence of her mother or other members of the family. she may invite him to tea, with her mother's serene but passive approval; and, in fact, the goings and comings of these young people are more like the comradery of two girls than like the formal association of a young man and young woman in society. we are accustomed to call such a code a country code, because of its almost universal following in small towns and villages. but similar freedom of association is also observed in city circles outside of the exclusive bounds of fashionable life. indeed, some of the fashions called "countryfied" are equally "cityfied," if we judge by the extent of the usage. but what has been quite safe and sensible and refined in the particular instance in the country, may be a most unsafe freedom in the city, where every circle is constantly being invaded, more or less, by new-comers and by a floating contingent of transient people, whose record is not known even to the people who introduce them. the frank friendliness that is usually good form in the village circle is usually a great mistake in the city. it is better that young ladies, whether nominally chaperoned or not, should be guarded against making acquaintances too readily, especially among young men. if a young man is deserving of social recognition, let the young lady's mother grant it to him by inviting him to her house and permitting his association with her own young people. a young girl should not extend these invitations to call unless she is well acquainted with the young man, or unless she gives the invitation in her mother's name, and with the understanding that he will be received by her mother as well as herself. usually, the mother should be the one to extend the hospitality. in the case of an unmarried woman who is no longer young, it is presumed that discretion will guide her as to when it is dignified and proper to give invitations to call, the conservative side being the safe side where strangers are concerned. the ideal condition of americanized chaperonage is far from being realized in the great mass of american society. a small and exclusive circle observes the english code in this matter; the rest of society ignore the whole idea--as an idea--though the thoughtful mother instinctively guards her daughter in a desultory way, perhaps meeting the spirit of the idea in the main, but flagrantly disregarding the letter of the formal code. the two extremes we have; but a real, systematic code of chaperonage that is not french, nor english, nor spanish, but wholesome, sensible, thorough-going american _mother's_ guardianship we are yet to see definitely carried out. the occasional instance of it which we now and then observe has taught us to appreciate what would be the happiest development in our social life, if once attained. meanwhile, the average american girl will probably continue to shine as the startling exception to the rule; and in her remarkable escapes from serious blunders, will continue to bear the palm for self-command and good sense. her ability to ignore a law, while consciously cherishing all that the law was devised to protect, is a flattering indication of her mental and moral integrity. even a dull-witted person can follow a set rule; it requires some genius to make a legitimate exception, and it also involves some temerity. it is like gathering mushrooms; perhaps they are edible, perhaps they are poisonous; for the various fungi look very much alike. if it happens to be right, it is right; if it happens to be wrong, it is sheer disaster. a social code that borrows no artifice from foreign lands and institutions, but which, true to the spirit of our own country, guards the liberty of young girls on the one hand, while on the other it shields them from license, will be welcomed by all thoughtful people. the american chaperone is the coming woman. the girls of the next generation will rise up and call her blessed. the american chaperone the question of the chaperone in america is peculiarly perplexing. the consternation of the hen whose brood of ducklings took to the water is a fit symbol of the horrified amazement with which an old-world "duenna" would be filled if she attempted to "look after" a bevy of typical american girls, with their independent--yet confused--ideas of social requirements in the matter of chaperonage. in europe, where social lines are distinctly drawn, a young woman either belongs "in society" or else she does not. in the former case she is constantly attended by a chaperone. in the latter case she is merely a young person, a working girl, for whom "society" makes no laws. in our country there is a leisure class of "society women," so recognized. if these alone constituted good society in america, we might simply adopt the european distinctions, and settle the chaperone question by a particular affirmative referring to these alone. but we reflect that our thoughts throughout this little volume are mainly for those who dwell within the broad zone of the average heretofore referred to. in this republican land no one can say that the bounds of good society lie arbitrarily here and there; certainly they are not marked by a line drawn between occupation and leisure. the same young girl--after leaving school, at the period when society life begins--may be "in society" during leisure hours and in business during working hours. it is accounted perfectly lady-like and praiseworthy for a young woman, well born and bred, to support herself by some remunerative employment that holds her to "business hours." she may be a teacher, an artist, a scribe, an editor, a stenographer, a book-keeper--what may she _not_ do, with talent, training, and good sense? and she may do this without being one iota less a lady--_if she is one to begin with_. now appears the complication. as a business woman, the self-reliant young girl does not need a chaperone. as a society woman, this inexperienced, sensitive, human-nature-trusting child _does_ need a chaperone. she is, therefore, subject to what we may call intermittent chaperonage. business, definite, serious occupation of any kind, is a coat of mail. the woman or girl who is plainly absorbed in some earnest and dignified _work_ is shielded from misinterpretation or impertinent intrusion while engaged in that work. she may go unattended to and from her place of business, for her destination is understood, and her purpose legitimate. she needs no guardian, for her capacity to take care of herself _under these conditions_, is demonstrated to a respectful public. the spectacle of a stately middle-aged woman accompanying each girl book-keeper to her desk every morning would be burlesque in the extreme. the girl who is thus allowed to go alone to an office in business hours, sometimes thinks it absurd for any one to say that she must not go alone to a drawing-room, and she _does_ go alone. right here this independent girl makes a mistake. it is granted that the girl with brains and principle to bear herself discreetly during office hours is probably able--in the abstract--to exercise the same good sense at a party. but _the conditions are changed_ to the eye of the onlooker. the girl who went to the office wearing the shield and armor of her work, now appears in society _without that shield_. to the observer she differs in no wise from the banker's daughter, who "toils not." like the latter, she needs on social occasions the watchful chaperonage that should be given to all young girls in these conditions. the woman who is in society at all must conform to its conventional laws, or lose caste in proportion to her defiance of these laws. she cannot defy them without losing the dignity and exclusiveness that characterize a well-bred woman, and without seeming to drift into the careless and doubtful manners of "bohemia." the fairy-story suggests the principle; cinderella could work alone in the dust and ashes undisturbed; but the fairy-god-mother must needs accompany her when she went to the ball. in the best circles everywhere, at home and abroad, every young girl during her first years in society is "chaperoned." that is to say, on all formal social occasions she appears under the watch and ward of an older woman of character and standing--her mother, or the mother's representative. the young woman's calls are made, and her visits received, in the company of this guardian of the proprieties; and she attends the theatre or other places of amusement, only under the same safe conduct. society to the young girl is may-fair. with the happy future veiled just beyond, she goes to meet a possible romance, and to traverse a circle of events that may haply round up in a wedding-ring. it is of the utmost importance that she shall not be left at the mercy of accidental meetings, indiscreet judgments, and the heedless impulses of inexperienced youth, which may effectually blight her future in its bud. a parent or guardian does a girl incalculable injury in allowing her to enter upon society life without chaperonage, and the unremitting watch-care and control which only a discreet, motherly woman can give to girlhood. men respect the chaperoned girl. honorable men respect her as something that is worth taking care of; men who are not honorable respect her as something with which they dare not be unduly familiar--though they account it "smart" to be "hail fellow well met" with the girl who ignorantly goes about unattended, or with other unchaperoned girls, on social occasions. a girl must have an unusual measure of native dignity, as well as native innocence, always to escape the disagreeable infliction of either "fresh" or _blasé_ impertinence, if she has no mother's wing to flutter under. this absolute condition of chaperonage exists during the novitiate of the young society woman. the requirement grows less and less rigid as the young woman grows more and more experienced, and learns to meet social emergencies for herself. that delicate ignoring of a woman's age which is shown in calling her a "girl" until she is married also permits her to be a chaperoned member of society until that event. but when obviously past her youth, it is no longer required that she shall wear the demeanor of a _débutante_. nor does propriety demand her mother's constant presence, when years of training have taught the daughter her mother's discretion, and when the mother's own serene dignity looks out of the daughter's eyes. we are proud of the ideal american girl. i mean the one _who is essentially a lady_, whether rich or poor, the one whose sterling good sense is equal to her emergencies; the one who is self-reliant without being bold, firm without being overbearing, brainy without being masculine, strong of nerve--"but yet a woman." let her be equipped for the battle of life, which in our state of society so many girls are fighting single-handed. instruct her in business principles; teach her to use the discretion needed to move safely along the crowded thoroughfare and to follow the routine of the office or the studio, trusting that with busy head and busy hands she may be safe wherever duty leads her tireless feet. but in her hours of social recreation, when she will meet and solve the vital problems of her own personal life, she needs a subtle _something more_; the mother's wisdom to supply the deficiencies of her inexperience, the mother's love to enfold her in unspoken sympathy, the mother's approbation to rest upon her dutiful conduct like a benediction. let no young girl regard this watch-care as a trammel placed on her coveted liberty. on the contrary, she will find that she has far more social freedom with the countenance of her mother's presence than she could have without it. and in after years, when her life has developed safely and happily under this discreet leadership, she will look back to her _début_, and her first seasons in society, with profound gladness that--thanks to somebody wiser than herself--she has escaped the follies that have in more or less measure injured the prospects of her young friends who were too "independent" to submit to the restraints of chaperonage, and who, for lack of it, to-day find themselves to a relative extent depreciated in social estimation. greetings. recognitions. introductions. the proverb, "the beginning is half the battle," applies in a multitude of ways. in the first instant of a greeting between two people, the ground upon which they meet should be indicated. cordiality, reserve, distrust, confidence, caution, condescension, deference--whatever the real or the assumed attitude may be, should be shown unmistakably when eyes meet and heads bend in the ceremony of greeting. to put into this initial manner the essence of the manner which one chooses to maintain throughout is one of the fine touches of diplomacy. people fail to do this when their effusively gracious condescension subsequently develops into snobbishness, or when an austere stiffness of demeanor belies the friendliness which they really intend to manifest. the latter fault is often due to diffidence or awkward self-consciousness; the former is usually traceable to the caprice of an undisciplined nature, and is a significant mark of ill-breeding. the vital part of a greeting is in the expression of the eyes. this is so nearly spontaneous that the most guarded cannot altogether veil the spirit that looks out of these "windows of the soul." the studied attitude and genuflection fail to hide surliness or contempt; and hostility, bitter and implacable, may reveal itself by the smoldering spark of anger in the eye, and destroy the effect of the most artful obsequiousness of manner. since we cannot control this one impulsively-truthful medium of expression, it becomes a matter of policy as well as of morals to harbor no spirits whose "possession" of us would be an unpleasant and inconvenient revelation. next to the eyes, the pose of the figure indicates the sentiment of the moment. arrogant assumption of superiority may be read in the expanded chest, the stiffened neck, and the head thrown backward at a decided angle; or, subservient humility is seen in the forward-bending head and the wilted droop of the shoulders. and again, the difference between a real humility and the artificial deference which gallantry prompts is easily detected. the gallant's head and shoulders are bowed, but not in meekness, for there is a certain tension in the controlled muscles that suggests that he can "straighten up" at will, whereas the really humble man appears to have no power to lift his bowed head or equally drooping spirit. the bending of the head and trunk, or the "bow," is the final and most active exponent of the spirit of the greeting. in its degrees and gradations are marked the degrees of deference, real or formal. the bow begins at the head, and may observe the following gradations: it may be an inclination of the head only, differing from a "nod" in the dignity of movement. the inclination may extend to the shoulders, causing a slightly perceptible forward leaning. this inclination may continue to the waist line. the extreme inclination bends the entire trunk from the hips. the legs are straight and the feet near together, in the attitude of "position" in free gymnastics. in every bow, of whatever gradation, the movement should be slow, the eye steady, the face serene, and the whole demeanor expressive of polite interest in the object. an averted eye is disrespectful, and suggests insincerity or treachery. not that it always means either; the "drooping eyelash" is affected by many women as gracefully expressive of feminine modesty. it may be coquettish, but there is nothing particularly womanly in never looking a man in the eye. search the face that confronts you, and learn what manner of man this is whom you are receiving into your company and fellowship. if he quails under the inquisition, so much the worse for him. if he is worth looking at, it is a pity to miss the sight. moreover, we more than half suspect that a woman's face is more attractive if her eyes occasionally "look up clear," instead of allowing the downcast lids to hide all of their vivacity and expression. the gayety or the gravity of the countenance may serve to measure the cordiality or the reserve which respectively distinguish two "bows"--exactly alike as to movement, and equally courteous, the one inviting confidence, the other repelling familiarity. the time, the place, and the occasion, and the mutual relations of people, decide the essential character of the appropriate bow. it must always be the exponent of the nature and disposition of the individual, and of his relation to the person whom he greets. no one has precisely the _same manner_ for any two people of his acquaintance--that is, if he has any vital manner at all. we are to others largely what they inspire us to be, and only lifeless indifference reduces "manner" to one same automatic manifestation. the life of a social greeting is in its exclusive spirit, and though the variations of outward manner are difficult to trace, it is a graceful and flattering thing to make this specialty of manner felt in every greeting extended. perhaps, after all, it is the eye that controls this, as the spirit within controls the eye. in general, the manner of a greeting should be optimistic, free from ungracious suspicion, and indicating a cheerful willingness to take people at their best; and even when most sternly forbidding intrusiveness, it should appear that the repulse is for good cause, and is not merely the expression of a capricious and unfounded arrogance. the latter quality, quite as often as not, characterizes the manner of snobs toward people who are infinitely their superiors in all that indicates character and breeding. the "curtsey"--or "courtesy"--is a feature of the minuet, and revived with the old-fashioned dance. it is a pretty bit of old-time grace, and is appropriate in responding to formal introductions and greetings in the drawing-room, especially when paying respect to elderly people. it is most effective when executed in a costume of voluminous draperies. it is a woman's ceremonial; no man ever "curtseys." the regulation "bow" is the only "deference" that gracefully combines with a dress suit. the _courtesy_ is a strictly formal obeisance, and the courtly reverence which it embodies is something more abstract than concrete, not necessarily inspired by the person to whom its deference is shown. like all greetings exchanged in the midst of crowds or in public places, it is somewhat impersonal in manner. personal recognitions and distinctions are reserved for more private occasions. one's greetings to fellow-guests at a reception are uniformly affable, irrespective of personal preferences. though our dearest friend and our direst foe both be present, we must not pointedly discriminate between them; we are not at liberty to use the parlors of our host for either a lover's tryst or a duelling-ground. a guest's first duty on entering a parlor or drawing-room is to pay his or her respects to the hostess and the ladies who are receiving with her. gentlemen should also make it a point to find the host as soon as possible, and extend to him a similar courtesy. the host, in turn, when not receiving formally with the hostess, roams at large, giving a hospitable greeting to each lady among his guests. in america, when a lady and gentleman meet, after being duly introduced, it is the lady's privilege to bow first. this rule protects her from the intrusion of an unwelcome acquaintance. but when the acquaintance is established and mutually agreeable, the rule is immaterial. in general, the elder or the more distinguished person bows first. but if the one who for any reason would be the proper one to take the initiative is known to be near-sighted, and liable to overlook an acquaintance unintentionally, it is more polite for the other person not to stand on ceremony. it is interesting to note that on the continent of europe the rule regarding recognitions is exactly reversed. the subject bows first to the king, the courtier to the lady; deference to a superior, rather than social equality, being expressed by the bow. one of the moot questions of the day is, "when is it proper to introduce people to each other?" the strictest etiquette forbids casual social introductions, or the introducing of any two people at any time without the consent of both parties. it is argued that people who meet in a drawing-room as fellow-guests are introduced, by that mere fact, sufficiently for the social purposes of the hour; and they may engage in conversation, if they choose, without the least hesitancy; both understanding that this interchange involves no acquaintance beyond the present occasion. by this arrangement an awkward silence is averted, and it certainly seems as if the chief argument in favor of "introducing people" is met; since, with "the roof" as their transient introduction, they are perfectly at ease without personal introductions. when people are used to this idea it is altogether the most sensible and agreeable solution of the question; but many social assemblies demonstrate that a large number of people are yet waiting to be introduced, and not without some feeling of resentment when this ceremony is neglected. let it be understood that any one is at liberty to speak to a fellow-guest without an introduction; also, that such a "talk" does not warrant any subsequent claim of acquaintance. if in the course of this impromptu chat mutual interest is awakened, either one may later seek an introduction in due form through some common friend. on informal occasions, when few guests are present, especially in country towns, it may be more kindly and social to give personal introductions; and the good sense of this idea, probably, is founded on the fact that under these conditions a hostess can be reasonably sure that the acquaintance will be congenial. to the villager many of the extreme rules of etiquette are unreasonable, because the conditions that enforce them in town life are not present in the life of the quiet hamlet. the rule regarding introductions is one which must be modified to suit circumstances. it is one of the cases when various delicate considerations may justify exceptions. the lady who in her city home introduces nobody, may in her country home introduce everybody, if that seems best. in the matter of delicate exceptions we observe the most significant display of tact. when introductions are made, gentlemen should be presented to ladies, younger people to older people, etc. the formula for introductions may be abbreviated to a mere announcement of the two names: "mr. smith--mrs. jones"--the pause and inflection filling the ellipsis; and really, upon the tone and manner depends the courtesy of the introduction so barren of phrasing. a formal presentation is made in this form:--"miss smith, allow me to present mr. jones." tact suggests that a hostess shall avoid bringing uncongenial people together; but if this unfortunately happens through ignorance or thoughtlessness, tact with equal urgency requires that the guests thus inauspiciously mingled shall not allow any one, not even the hostess herself, to discover the mistake. the same rule which allows perfect strangers to be agreeably social for an hour, and then part as strangers yet, certainly will grant to enemies a similar privilege. the woman who conscientiously, and _perfectly_, hides her personal animosities rather than mar the harmony of the social circle, is doing her part to keep the world in tune. the offer of the social right hand of fellowship is a tacit recognition of equality. hand-shaking is said to be an american habit. certainly the social conditions in a republic are favorable to such a custom. it is a pity that a mode so adapted to express the warmth and loyalty of friendship should be indiscriminately employed in casual greetings. the pressure of the hand should mean more than it can mean, when, as now, it is bestowed with equal alacrity on life-long friend and recent acquaintance. fastidious and sensitive people are rather conservative in hand-shaking. etiquette allows considerable latitude. it is proper and graceful, but not required, for two men to shake hands when introduced. a lady does not usually shake hands with a new acquaintance, unless the circumstances of the introduction make her responsible for allowing special cordiality, as when a person is introduced to her in her own house. a host and hostess shake hands with a guest; they may omit to shake hands with the same person when they meet him elsewhere. whatever one's personal impulse, it is polite to defer to the evident preference of another; and to shake hands heartily if a hand is cordially extended, or to refrain from proffering the hand when reserve is evident in the manner of the other person. hand-shaking as a conventional ceremony should be as impersonal and as void of significance as possible. the clasp of the hand should be firm but brief; not hasty, yet not prolonged; and the fingers should relax and loosen their hold at once, not dropping listlessly, nor retaining a lingering pressure. when a lady gives her hand to a guest she expects to get it back again almost immediately, and in an uncrushed condition. to hold another's hand until he or she is conscious of the detaining grasp is a liberty that only trusted friends may take. at the same time, a hearty manner of greeting may be the fashion in some places; and to meet it otherwise than cheerfully would seem churlish, according to local standards. it is always well-bred--as well as politic--to conform to local customs so far as is consistent with dignity. another custom, gradually going out, is the woman's fashion of kissing effusively each woman-friend of her acquaintance. this senseless habit has no excuse for being. when kissing is the language of impulsive affection, etiquette has nothing to say about it except to demand that the general public shall not be called upon to witness the ceremony. public thoroughfares and thronged social assemblies we not the proper places for such demonstrations. nothing is less interesting than other people's kisses, unless it be the gushing recital of private affairs with which these unguarded people also entertain every stranger within earshot. when scenes like these are observed at railroad stations and on board of trains when demonstrative leave-taking is in progress, we may forgive the exhibition since the circumstances warrant more than usual impulsiveness and forgetfulness of surroundings. but when the most common-place meeting of acquaintances, who see each other every day, is attended with these phenomena, etiquette, as well as common-sense, enters a severe protest. the kiss, which should be the most exclusive symbol of friendship, becomes the most insignificant form of greeting. it is not proper, according to strict etiquette, to give the kiss of greeting in public places; but when near relatives or cherished friends do choose thus to greet each other, the kiss should be exchanged unobtrusively and with dignity; conversation on private matters should be conducted in subdued tones, and a well-bred gravity--quite consistent with cheerfulness--should characterize the manner. it would be well if every person in society should register a solemn resolution never to kiss _anybody_ unless prompted to do so by the irresistible impulse of affection. it is safe to say that nine-tenths of the kisses of social greeting would be dispensed with. the quality of the remaining tenth would doubtless be proportionately improved. behavior in public thoroughfares people understand and "make allowances" for many things that, to say the least, are thoughtless in the behavior of people whom they know well. not so "the general public," which measures every man's conduct by the strict law of propriety, and accredits him with so much intelligence and refinement as his manners display--no more. and, happily, no less; for this "general public" is a dispassionate critic on the whole, and if it severely condemns our faults, it has no grudge against us to keep it from equally appreciating our merits. a "regard for appearances" is--and should be--a leading consideration when ordering one's conduct in public. it is not enough that _we know_ ourselves to be above reproach; we must take care that the stranger who observes us gets no impression to the contrary. friends who know her irresistibly mirthful disposition, may excuse the girl who laughs boisterously on the street-car; but she will not be able to explain to the severe-looking stranger opposite that she did _not_ do this to attract attention. conduct in public should be characterized by reserve. the promenade, the corridors of public buildings--post-office, railway stations, etc.--the elevators and arcades of buildings devoted to shops and offices; museums and picture-galleries, the foyer of the theatre, and the reading-rooms of public libraries may all be regarded as thorough fares, where the general public is our observant critic. greetings between acquaintances casually meeting in such places should be quiet and conventional; friends should avoid calling each other by name, and conversation should be confined to such remarks as one does not object to have accidentally overheard. subdued, but natural, tones of voice should be used, and the manner should be perfectly "open and above board." cautious whispering is conspicuous, sometimes suspicious, and always ill-mannered. if confidential matters are to be discussed, the office or the parlor is the proper place for the conference. when acquaintances meet on the promenade, recognitions are exchanged by a slight bow, with or without a spoken greeting. on the crowded walk, if two acquaintances pass and re-pass each other several times in the course of the same promenade, it is not necessary to exchange greetings after the first meeting. canes and umbrellas should not be carried under the arm horizontally, endangering the eyes and ribs of other pedestrians. a man, when bowing, lifts his hat in the following instances: when bowing to a lady. when, walking with a lady, he bows to another man of his acquaintance. when bowing to an elderly man, or a superior in office. when bowing to a man who is walking with a lady. when, walking with a lady, he joins her in saluting any gentlemen of her acquaintance, but strangers to himself; or, when walking with gentlemen, he joins them in saluting a lady of their acquaintance, but a stranger to himself. when offering any civility (as a seat in the street-car), to a lady, whether a stranger or an acquaintance. when bidding good-bye to a lady after an "open-air" conference, when the hat has been worn. punctilious etiquette requires a man to stand with head uncovered in the presence of ladies, until requested to replace the hat. but in our changeable climate, the risk of "taking cold" suggests the good sense of wearing the hat out-of-doors, and allowing the graceful lifting of the same at greeting and parting to express all the deference that the uncovered head is meant to symbolize. the greater the crowd, the shorter the range at which greetings are exchanged. one might "halloo" to an old acquaintance forty rods distant, down a country lane; but on broadway he bows only to the ones whom he meets point blank. if two friends meet and pause to shake hands, they should step aside from the throng, and not blockade the sidewalk. ladies should make these pauses very brief, and beware of entering into exhaustive interchanges of family news. two men may linger, if they choose, and hold a few moments' conversation. but if a man meets a lady, and wishes to chat with her, he should, after greeting her, ask permission to join her, and walk with her for a short distance; he should by no means detain her standing on the sidewalk. he should not accompany her all the way to her destination, nor prolong such a casual conversation beyond a few moments. he should leave her at a corner, and lift his hat respectfully as he bids her good-bye. if several people walking together on a sidewalk of average width meet other groups of promenaders, both parties should fall into single line as they pass, allowing each group a fair share of the walk. this is especially incumbent when on a narrow crossing. it is very rude for groups of three or more to walk abreast without heeding the people whom they meet, and often crowding the latter off the curbstone. young girls are sometimes very thoughtless in this matter. "turn to the right, as the law directs" is an injunction that holds good for the crowded sidewalk. if one, walking briskly, overtakes slower walkers ahead, and the crowd allows no space to get past them, one should watch for a chance to slip through a gap in the phalanx, rather than "elbow through." if no chance seems likely to occur, and haste is imperative, a polite man has no recourse but to step outside the curb and walk rapidly ahead, returning to the sidewalk a few paces in advance. a lady similarly hurried may slip through a small space, if one offers, with an apologetic "i beg pardon." but in no case should pushing be resorted to. it is very unmannerly for a party of loiterers to string themselves thus across the width of a sidewalk, and then saunter slowly, regardless of the fact that they are impeding the progress of busier people. a policeman should call their attention to the fact. if the sidewalk is "blocked" by an orderly crowd, as it frequently is on the occasion of parades and other public demonstrations, a man may push his way through gently, saying, "i beg pardon" to those whom he is compelled to jostle. the fine breeding of a gentleman never shows more conspicuously than in his manner of getting through a crowd. the beauty of it is, or, perhaps, i might say, the utility of it is, that courtesy in such a case is very much more effective than "bluff," for the majority in an orderly crowd are inclined to be obliging, and quickly respond to a good-humored request; whereas, if one aggressive elbow begins to push, a hundred other elbows are set rigidly akimbo, and the solid mass becomes ten-fold more unyielding than before. if accosted by a stranger with a request for information as to streets, directions, etc., one should kindly reply, and, if not able to give the desired information, should, if possible, direct the stranger where to make further inquiries. cheerful interest in the perplexities of a bewildered sojourner in the city costs nothing and is always highly appreciated. only a pessimist or a snob would dismiss such a question curtly. if a lady's dress has been torn, or trimming or braid ripped and left trailing after contact with the nails in a packing-box on the sidewalk, or from some similar accident, it is polite to call her attention to the disaster. a gentleman may do this with perfect propriety if he sees that she is not aware of it. he should preface the information with "pardon me," and should lift his hat, as always when offering any civility. when attending to business at banks, post-office, railroad ticket-offices, etc., one should pay no attention to other people, further than to guard against allowing one's absorbing interest in one's own affairs to make one regardless of the just rights of others in the matter of "turn" at ticket or stamp windows, or in the use of the public desk, pens, etc.--trifling tests of good manners that distinguish the well-bred, _and which illustrate very pointedly the truth that selfishness is always vulgar, and that an unfailing habit of considering other people's comfort is a mark of gentle breeding_. a lady should say "thank you" to a gentleman who gives up a seat to her in a street-car or other public conveyance, where, having _paid_ for a seat, he has a _right_ to it, and his voluntary relinquishment of it is a matter of _personal courtesy_ on his part. the woman who slides into a place thus offered without acknowledging the obligation is very thoughtless, or else she has erroneous ideas of how far chivalry is bound to be the slave of selfishness. if the lady is accompanied by a gentleman, he, too, should say "thank you," and lift his hat. he should also be thoughtful not to take the next vacated seat himself without first offering it to the polite stranger. a young woman, strong and well, may properly give up her seat to a fragile woman, or a mother with a baby, or to an elderly man or woman. young ladies of leisure, who are not weary, should not be too ready to "oust" tired clerks and laboring men whose ride home at six o'clock is their first chance to sit down, for ten hours. a _gentleman_ is chivalrous; and there is a corresponsive quality in a _lady_, which makes her delicately sensitive about unjustly imposing on that chivalry, or which, in emergencies of sickness or disaster, enables _her_ to be the _chivalrous in spirit_, and bear on her slender shoulders the burden that is temporarily dropped when some stroke of providence lays the strong man low. on the other hand, there are women of coarse fibre, who imagine that they vastly increase their own importance by being selfishly exacting in the matter of men's self-sacrificing attentions. they may browbeat the men who are in their power; but, outside of this narrow world of their own, they are held in thorough contempt by the very men whose admiration they had hoped to gain by their aggressive and ill-tempered demands. men who smoke on the street should avoid the crowded promenade, where ladies "most do congregate;" since it is nearly impossible to avoid annoying some one with the smoke. in most towns, the board of health ordinance forbidding spitting on floors, sidewalks, etc., is not only a hygienic safe-guard, but a much needed enforcement of good manners. comment is superfluous. based upon an idea borrowed from olden days--that the right arm, the "sword arm," should be free for defense--a custom formerly prevailed for a man, walking with a lady, to place her always at his left side. then later--also with some idea of shielding her from danger--it was the custom for a man to walk next to the curbstone, whether it happened to be left or right. this is still the rule, unless the sidewalk is crowded; in which case a man walks at the side next the opposing throng, in order to shield a lady from the elbows of the passers-by. authorities are divided on the subject of elevator etiquette, some denouncing in round terms the man who is so rude as to keep his hat on in an elevator where there are ladies; arguing that the elevator is a "little room," an "interior," not a thoroughfare. others are equally emphatic in asserting that the elevator _is_ a thoroughfare, _merely_; and that hats are not to be removed, except under the same conditions that would call for their removal in the street--as the greeting of acquaintances, or the exchange of civilities. the good sense of this view is apparent. a hat held in the hand in a crowded elevator is sure to be in the way, and liable to be crushed. a gentleman who wishes to compromise between stolid ignoring of the ladies who are strangers, and superfluous recognition of their presence, may lift his hat and replace it immediately, when a lady enters the elevator, or when he enters an elevator where ladies already are. such a courtesy differs from a greeting in this: a stranger offering this elevator civility _does not look at the lady_, nor does he bend his head; and his lifted hat is an impersonal tribute to the sex. a lady makes _no response_ to such a courtesy; yet there is in her general bearing a subtle something, hard to describe, but which every gentleman will readily recognize, that shows whether or not she observes and appreciates his little act of deference. the atmosphere of good manners may be as invisible as the air about us; but we know when we are breathing it. during a promenade in the day-time, a lady does not take a man's arm unless she is feeble from age or ill-health, and needs the support. in the evening, a gentleman walking with a lady may offer her his arm. on no account should a man take a woman's arm. this is a disrespectful freedom, that might be supposed to be the specialty of the rustic beau, if it were not so frequently observed in city thoroughfares. the "cut direct" is the rudest possible way of dropping an acquaintance; and is allowable only in the case of some flagrant offender who deserves public and merciless rebuke. ordinarily, the result sought--of ending an undesired acquaintance--is attained by a persistently cold courtesy, supplemented by as much avoidance as possible; drifting apart, not sinking each other's craft without warning. as crowds are distracting, and people bent on their own errands are often oblivious of their surroundings, it is quite possible for a seeming cut to have been an unconscious oversight. when an acquaintance seems not to see one, though close at baud, it is possible that something closer yet to his consciousness is absorbing all his thoughts. only clear and unmistakable evidence of _intention_ should lead one to infer a slight. it is not only more _polite_, but more _self-respecting_, to "take offense" _slowly_. in public assemblies at the theatre or opera, at concerts, or popular lectures, at "commencements," and other prosperous and happy public entertainments, a certain gayety of manner may be in harmony with the occasion; but it should be under control, a smiling cheerfulness, not a free-and-easy jollity. before the play, or the programme, begins, social conversation is usually allowable in quiet tones that do not disturb the surrounding people. a gentle hum of lively voices is not an unpleasant overture on such occasions. but the moment the orchestra begins, if at the theatre, or the instant that the meeting is called to order by any initial feature of the programme, silence should fall upon the assembly, and not a whisper be heard. polite attention should be given to each feature of the hour. programmes should be folded and arranged for easy reference before the exercises begin, so that no rustling of papers shall mar the effect of the music, or interfere with the speakers or listeners. the noisy handling of programmes is a most exasperating exhibition of thoughtlessness, and can easily be avoided by a little caution. it should be accounted a matter of good form not to be late in arriving at the theatre, opera, etc. people sometimes think that because their seats are secured by their ticket-coupons, it makes no difference whether they are in their places before the curtain rises or not. but it is inconsistent for people who would be thought to be well-mannered, to inflict on others so much annoyance as is the result of coming late and making a commotion arranging seats, etc., after a drama is in progress, or a lecture or concert begun. when this happens, it should be the rare and unavoidable accident of detention, not the habitual and perhaps even ostentatious custom that it seems to be with some people. the noise about the swing-doors, and the rustle in the aisles, the banging of hinged seats, and the occasional parley with the usher, render the seats under the galleries practically valueless during the first half of the performance, since the speakers cannot be heard in the midst of the confusion. the "sense" of the opening act being lost, the entire play is marred simply because forty or fifty people are ten or fifteen minutes late. if managers would combine and agree to order the doors closed several minutes before the performance begins, it would soon remedy the trouble, and a host of patrons would applaud their course. the most aggravating thing about annoyances of this kind is that they are inflicted by the very few, and suffered by the very many. in crowded theatres and lecture halls, heavy coats and wraps must be disposed within each owner's own territory. they should not lie over the top of the seat or bulge over into the adjoining seats to encroach upon other people. nor should the owner of a big overcoat double it up into a cushion and sit upon it, to raise himself six inches higher, to the disadvantage of the person seated back of him--a selfish preparation to see the sights which we sometimes observe, even in the parquet centre. the fashion, now almost universal, of removing hats at all spectacular entertainments, does away with what was formerly a conspicuous source of annoyance. for awhile this downfall of view-obstructing millinery promised a "square deal" to the occupants of the back rows. but of late vanity has re-asserted itself in the guise of elaborate hair-dressing, until the aigrette and the bow have become as great an imposition as was their predecessor, the flaring hat. this evasion of the issue will be more difficult to control by public prohibition. it remains for the polite woman to avoid adopting, for such occasions, the towering head-dress that evokes not admiration but execration from the people seated behind her. no woman need risk annoying others in order to be attractive herself; there are numerous styles that are both unobtrusive and becoming. moreover, the woman in good society has ample opportunity to exhibit her elaborate coiffure at private social functions. people who wish to leave the theatre between the acts should make it a point to secure end seats and not _scrape_ past half a dozen other people three or four times during the performance. if it is necessary to trouble other people to rise and step aside to allow one to take or to leave his seat, the person thus obliged should preface the action with "i beg pardon," or "may i trouble you to allow me to pass;"--and should acknowledge the obligation by saying "thank you." this may not lessen the inconvenience to other people, but it may mollify the feeling of irritability that such things naturally arouse. it ought to be superfluous to say that talking aloud, or continuous whispering during the progress of a play or opera or concert, usually on topics foreign to the occasion, is a rudeness to the performers and a bold impertinence to the rest of the audience. some people are guilty of this insolence wittingly and unblushingly. for such we have no word of advice. such instances should be met by something more effective than "gentle influence." but many, especially young people, talk and laugh thoughtlessly, and from mere exuberance of animal spirits. it is to be hoped that on pausing to reflect they will carefully avoid forming a habit of public misbehavior that will ultimately rank them in the social scale as confirmed vulgarians. an _intelligent_ listener never interrupts. between the scenes of a play, or the successive numbers of a concert programme, there are pauses long enough for a brief exchange of comment between two friends who are sharing an entertainment, and they may enjoy the pleasure of thus comparing notes without once disturbing the order of the time and place. at a spectacular entertainment, it is very rude for those in front to stand up in order to see better, thus cutting off all view for those back of them. the disposition to do this is very strong in rural audiences, where the flat floor of the school-house or hall gives little chance for the observers seated back of the first few "rows." but one may better lose part of the "tableau" on the stage than to furnish _another_ one on the floor of the house. at a lecture, a special personal respect is due to the speaker. this is shown by a courteous attention and a general demeanor of interest and appreciation. if applause is merited, it should be given in a refined manner. the stamping of the feet is coarse, and the pounding of the floor with canes and umbrellas is as lazy as it is noisy. the clapping of hands is a natural language of delight, and, when skillfully done, is an enthusiastic expression of approbation. some effort is being made to substitute the waving of handkerchiefs as a symbol of approval or greeting to a favorite speaker, but it is quite probable that this silent signal will not take the place of the more active demonstration of clapping the hands, except on very quiet and intellectual occasions. shall ladies join in applause? as a matter of fact, women seldom applaud, but not because propriety necessarily forbids; it is chiefly because the tight-fitting kid glove renders "clapping" a mechanical impossibility. feminine enthusiasm is quite equal to it at times, as, for instance, when listening to a favorite elocutionist or violinist. there is no reason why ladies may not "clap," if they _can_. it certainly is quite as lady-like and orderly as for them to give vent to their enthusiasm, as many do, in audible exclamations of "too sweet for _anything_!" "just too _lovely_!" etc., all of which might have been "conducted off" at the finger-tips if hand-clapping had been a feasible medium of expression. applause may be a very effective and graceful exponent of gentlemanly appreciation if given with discrimination; but if too ready and frequent, it ceases to have any point, and becomes commonplace. while a man of taste will applaud heartily on occasion, he will refrain from extravagant and continuous clapping. the observance of the proprieties of time, place, and occasion are nowhere more urgent than at church. much of the liberty that is granted on secular occasions is entirely out of place in church. while quiet greetings may be exchanged at the church door, or in the outer vestibules, before and after service, it is not decorous to chat sociably along the aisles, or hold a gossiping conference in whispers with some one in the neighboring pew. i have in mind one woman, who ought to have known better, whose sibilant utterances--just five pews distant--came to be a regular part of the five minutes' pause immediately before the service began. her conversation was usually directed to another woman, who, likewise, should have known better than to listen. the silent vault of the church roof echoed to the vigorous whispering up to the instant that the clergyman began, in low monotone, "the lord is in his holy temple"--a fact which the whisperer had obviously forgotten--"let all the earth keep silence before him"--an injunction which she never seemed to be able to remember from week to week. it is one of the worst violations of good form to behave with levity in church. to devout people the church is the place for meditation and prayer, and nothing should be allowed to disturb the restful calm that is sought within its sacred walls. a well-bred agnostic will respect the religious sentiments of other people, whatever his own beliefs or disbeliefs in matters theological. if no higher law is recognized, at least every one will regard the etiquette of the case, which requires that the demeanor of every one within the walls of the church shall be reverent. it is proper to dress plainly and _neatly_ for church; to enter the portal quietly, to walk up the aisle in a leisurely but direct way, and be seated at once with an air of repose. if cushions or books require rearranging, it should be done with as little effort as possible. every movement should be quiet, and the rattling of fans and of books in the rack, and "fidgeting" changes of position should be avoided. the movements in rising, sitting, and kneeling should be deliberate enough for grace, and cautious enough to avert accidents, like hitting the pew-railings, knocking down umbrellas, or kicking over footstools. no sounds but the inevitable rustle of garments should attend the changes of posture during the service. not unfrequently several canes and as many hymn-books clatter to the floor with each rise of the congregation, because of somebody's nervous haste. children are often responsible for these little accidents, and of course are excusable, but they should be early taught to observe caution in these little matters. the clergyman should have the undivided attention of his hearers. during the lesson and the sermon, one should watch the face of the reader, or speaker, and give to the minister all the inspiration that an earnest expounder may find in the face of an intelligent listener. it is probably thoughtless, not intentional, disrespect--but still disrespect--for a person to spend "sermon time" studying the stained-glass windows or the symbolical fresco, interesting as these things may be. the singing of the choir may be good; if so, one should not listen to it with the air of a _connoisseur_ at a grand concert. or the singing may be very poor; that fact should not be emphasized by the scowling countenance of the critic in the pews. a mind absorbed in true devotion does not measure church singing by secular standards. the _spirit_ may be woefully lacking in the most artistic rendition: it may be vitally present in the most humble song of worship. while we may with righteous indignation condemn the sacrilege of a _spiritless_ or irreverent singing of the sublime service of the church, it is very bad form to sneer at the earnest and sincere work of a choir whose "limitations," in natural gifts or culture, render their work somewhat commonplace. it is good form to respect all that is _honest_ in religion, and to reserve sharp criticism for the shams and hypocrisies that cast discredit on the church. a regular "pew-owner" in a church should be hospitable to strangers, and cheerfully give them a place in his pew, offering them books and hymnals, and aiding them to follow the service if they seem to be unaccustomed to its forms. at the same time it is only fair to say that this duty becomes a heavy tax on generosity and patience when, as in some very popular churches, a floating crowd of sight-seers each sunday invade the pews, to the serious discomfort of the regular occupants. people who attend church as strangers should remember that they do so by courtesy of the regular attendants. a broad view of the church opening its doors to all the world is theoretically true, but practically subject to provisos. a church visitor who observes much the same care not to be intrusive which good form would require him to observe if visiting at a private house, will usually be rewarded with a polite welcome. the stranger attending church should wait at the foot of the aisle until an usher conducts him to a seat, as the usher will know where a stranger can be received with least inconvenience to others in the pew. the stranger should not take possession of family hymn-books, or fans, or select the best hassock, or otherwise appropriate the comforts of the pew, unless invited to do so by the owner, whose guest he is, in a sense. if attentions are not shown him, he must not betray surprise or resentment, nor look around speculatively for the hymn-book that is not forthcoming. if the service is strange to him, he should at least conform to its salient forms, rising with the congregation, and not sitting throughout like a stolid spectator of a scene in which he has no part. the head should be bowed during the prayers, and the eyes at least _cast down_, if not closed. to sit and stare at a minister while he is praying is a grotesque rudeness worthy of a heathen barbarian, yet one sometimes committed by the civilized caucasian. the incident may escape the knowledge of the well-mannered portion of the congregation, who are themselves bowed in reverent attitude; but the roving eye of some infant discovers the fact, and it is at once announced; and worst of all, the child unconsciously gets an influential lesson in misbehavior in church from the "important" man who thus disregards the proprieties. bearing and speech physical culture may be a "fad," but its aesthetic results are conceded. the graceful control of the body is the basis of a fine manner. it is an opinion of long standing that children should be taught to dance in order to develop grace of movement. yet dancing, _merely_, gives but a limited training of the muscles compared with the all-round exercise now taken in gymnasiums and classes for physical culture. it is recommended that all who are deficient in "manner," or who suffer an embarrassing self-consciousness because of their awkwardness of pose or movement, should take a course of training under an intelligent teacher, until every muscle learns its proper office. with the self-command which this training gives, ease of manner and dignity of bearing follow naturally; to say nothing of the serenity of mind that lies back of all this pleasing exterior. the effect of this bodily grace is to prepossess the beholder. first impressions are received through the eye. before a word is spoken, the pose and carriage convey a significant announcement of character and breeding. a thorough practical knowledge of elocution and constant application of its principles to conversational utterances are requisite to refined speech. errors in pronunciation, hasty and indistinct enunciation, the dropping out of entire syllables in curt phrasing, are common faults of careless people _who know better_, and who would be very much chagrined to find themselves accounted to be as ignorant as their speech might indicate them to be. a varied vocabulary used with discrimination indicates intelligence and culture. a single word uttered may reveal grace, or betray awkwardness. in the social interchange, one must not only suit the action to the word, but equally suit the word to the action. careless speech often belies civil intentions. say "thank-you," not "thanks,"--a lazy and disrespectful abbreviation. if you say "pardon me," let your manner indicate a dignified apology. "i beg your pardon," is sometimes only the insolent preface to a flat and angry contradiction. in most phrases of compliment, the words derive their real significance from the manner of the speaker. there is a difference of opinion as to whether people of social equality should add "sir" and "ma'am" to the responses "yes" and "no"; and especially, whether children should be taught to do so. the english fashion--largely copied by americans--does not favor it. certainly, children can learn to say "yes" and "no" with the courteous manner that implies all that the added "sir" might convey. but, are not some young americans too ready to take advantage of this permitted lapse of verbal deference? and, back of the verbal lapse is there not a distinct lapse of the deference itself? it might be well to begin to counteract this irreverent tendency of the age, by cultivating a more respectful and appreciative spirit. then, the polite word will come spontaneously to the lips. it will be a matter of morals, essentially: of manners, incidentally. deplorable as a heedless curtness of speech is, it is hardly more unpleasant than the artificial mincing of words that some children are drilled into (or learn by imitation of their elders). this superficial effusiveness, supposed to be "pretty" manners, is related more to subjective vanity than to objective courtesy. not allowed to say "sir," they substitute the name or title of the person addressed,--which, when introduced occasionally and unobtrusively, is a graceful personal recognition; but when overdone, as too often observed, the constant iteration of "yes, mr. brown,"--"no, mrs. black," etc., grows to be a maddening exposition of precocious affectation. having observed the vagaries of this fashion in phrasing for several years, i have come to the conclusion that the plain "sir" of former times,--which, to the "well-brought-up" child, was a practical application of the fifth commandment,--is much to be preferred to the fussy elaboration of personal address that has superseded it. indications at present are, that the old-fashioned "sir" and "madam" are coming into their own again, among truly courteous people. but whatever the fickle fashion of the hour may be, it is important to enforce the truth that the spirit of words and deeds is the essence of good manners. if this right spirit be lacking, no words can fill the blank. if an ugly spirit dwells within, no word of compliment can veil its evil face. but though the good spirit be there, with all its generous impulses and kindly feeling, it needs the concrete expression; otherwise, its very existence may remain unknown. "a man that hath friends must show himself friendly." pose, bearing, facial expression, the winning smile,--all these are silently eloquent; but, to convey the perfect message from soul to soul, there must be added the "word fitly spoken." self-command a theme for a volume! briefly, it is the mark of a well-disciplined mind to be able to meet all emergencies calmly. though china break, and gravy spill, the hostess and the guest must not allow the accident to ruffle their perfect serenity of manner. nor is it merely a point of etiquette to be thus self-controlled. serious accidents sometimes happen, like the igniting of fancy lamp-shades or filmy curtains, and then the calm poise of a well-bred man becomes of practical value to himself and others. a habit of keeping cool--formed originally for good manners' sake--may save one's life in some crisis of danger. control of temper is one of the most valuable results of training in the etiquette of calm behavior. manifestations of ill-temper may be the occasional outburst of a spirit that dwells under the shadow of an ancestral curse, but which in its better moments grieves in sackcloth and ashes over its yielding to wild, ungovernable impulse. such people are often generous and self-sacrificing in the main, though causing so much sorrow and disaster to others by these occasional whirlwinds of passion. in all that delicacy of feeling and usual regard for "the amenities" indicate, they are "well-bred." to say that they are not is as ungenerous as to criticise the conduct of the insane. but habitual, cold-blooded, and willful ill-temper--the trade-mark of unmitigated selfishness--is indisputably ill-bred. whatever the tendency, temperament, or temptation, good form requires the cultivation and the exhibition of good humor and a disposition to take a cheerful and generous view of people and things. this calm serenity does not mean weakness or moral cowardice. the dignity that forbids one to be rude also forbids one to endure insolence. a gentleman may scathe a liar in plain unvarnished terms, and yet not lose a particle of his own repose of manner; and the higher his own standards are, the more merciless will be his denunciation of what he holds to be deserving of rebuke. but through it all, he has his own spirit well in hand, under curb and rein. the ominous calm of a well-bred man is a terror to the garrulous bully. it is "the triumph of mind over matter." next to the etiquette of self-control--and, if anything, harder to comply with--is the etiquette of forbearance, which is often overlooked; for people who have high standards themselves are apt to be intolerant of gross offenders against social rules. those who by inheritance or by culture are blessed with a logical mind and an equable temper, should be lenient in judging cruder people, whose dense ignorance aggravating their malicious intent, causes them to do astounding violence to the principles of morality and etiquette alike, by exhibitions of ugly temper. only by making allowances can the conduct of some people be accounted less than criminal. let all reflect that it is impossible to be a _lady_, or a _gentleman_, without _gentle_ manners. a few points on dress perfect congruity is the secret of successful dressing. the first harmony to be observed is that between the dress and the wearer's purse. good form considers not merely what can be _paid for_ without "going in debt," but what can be purchased without cramping the resources in some other direction and destroying the proper balance of one's expenditures. the girl who uses a month's salary to buy one fine gown, and denies herself in the matter of needed hosiery to make up for the extravagance, is "dressing beyond her means," and is violating good form in so doing. a simple gown that allows for all _suitable accessories_ is always lady-like. the second point of harmony is the appropriateness of dress to the occasion when it is worn. dinners, balls, and formal receptions are occasions that call for handsome dress. this may range in cost to include some very inexpensive but artistic costumes, the quality of good style not being confined to the richest fabrics. but the inexpensive gown should have a character of its own, and not be suspected of any attempt to imitate its priceless rivals. the degree of full-dress worn at dinner varies with the formality of the occasion and the fashions prevailing in the social circle represented. on very grand occasions a very rich and stylish costume may be required. in general, a lady wears her choicest silk or velvet gown at a dinner. the intrinsic value of the fabric is more important in dinner dress than in dress worn on other occasions, since the company are few in number and thrown into close proximity, where leisurely observation and criticism are inevitable. a gown that would pass muster in a crowd, may not stand the calm scrutiny of the dinner-table fourteen. the style of cut and the trimmings of a dinner gown may be as severely plain or as voluminously dressy as the character of the occasion and the _personnel_ of the company may indicate and the wearer's instinctive sense of propriety may suggest. a ball or a formal reception in the evening is a time to display one's prettiest gowns and all the jewels which one possesses. fabrics of infinite variety, from velvet and brocade to diaphanous tissues, are suitable; and the possibilities in trimmings, in lace and flowers and jeweled ornaments, are unlimited. in the fancy costumes suitable for these showy occasions there is wide opportunity for the ingenious girl to make herself bewitching without greatly depleting her purse. the most becomingly dressed woman is not always the most expensively dressed. general effect strikes the eye of the observer who has not time to study special quality in the kaleidoscopic scene presented by the ball-room or reception throng. at an afternoon tea, the hostess should dress richly enough for dignity, but without ostentation. as on all occasions, a woman should never be over-dressed in her own house. her gown should not be so gorgeous that any one of her guests, even the poorest, need feel embarrassed by the contrast. if several ladies join the hostess in receiving, they wear handsome reception toilets. other guests come in ordinary walking dress, but it should be stylish and well-kept. a "second-best" gown, though neat enough for informal calls, may not be elegant enough for a tea or for formal visiting. but if a lady's means are limited, and her well-preserved old gown is the best that she can command, perfect neatness and a delicate disposal of _lingerie_ will disguise the ravages of time, and make the "auld cla'es look a'maist as weel's the new." indeed, effective dressing, ultimately resolved, is a matter of refined ingenuity. as david, subtly endued with power, with a smooth stone from the brook vanquished the armor-clad philistine giant, so the woman with a genius for the artistic details of dress, even though it be a last-year's gown, may triumph over another who has blindly clad herself according to the latest conventional pattern, but without regard to what is becoming to herself. happy the woman whose bank account permits her to give perfect expression to her taste. not so happy, but still happy, the woman whose taste meets the emergency, despite a slender purse. but oh! most miserable the woman of stolid, unimaginative nature, whose luxurious wardrobe suggests nothing but the dollar-mark. not that i advance the poetical idea of "sweet simplicity" always and everywhere. not that the rich gown is in itself objectionable, or the inexpensive dress intrinsically beautiful. it is not invariably true that "beauty unadorned is most adorned." it is not true that a "simple calico" is more charming than a sheeny silk, nor is cotton edging to be compared with point or duchess lace. but the really beautiful in dress, as before stated, lies in its perfect congruity. according to this standard, the calico is sometimes more effective than the silk, and _vice versa_; and neither is effective if worn at inappropriate times, or under unsuitable conditions. fashion is _daring_, and every now and then announces some startling innovation in the way of gay street-dress. but the public sentiment of refined people is so definitely fixed in favor of quiet dress for public thoroughfares that these "daring" fashions soon become the sole property of the ignorant class. dress for church, or for business, should be plain in design, and subdued in color; and for most occasions when a lady walks to pay visits or calls, a plain tailor-made costume is most suitable. carriage dress may be gayer in colors, and more dressy in style of cut and trimmings. when a party of ladies attend the theatre, unaccompanied by a male escort, or with no conveyance but the street-car, ordinary walking costume, with quiet bonnets or hats, is correct style. box parties, presumably arriving in carriages, may dress as prettily as they choose, subject to the general laws of taste. a woman should not mix up her wardrobe, and wear a theatre bonnet to church, or carry a coaching parasol to a funeral. black, or very subdued colors, should be worn to a funeral. any color, _except black_, may be worn by a guest at a wedding. black lace may be used in the trimmings of rich-colored gowns (though white lace is preferable); but solid black is not allowable. women who are wearing mourning sometimes lay it aside to attend a wedding, substituting a lavender or violet gown, or, in some places, a deep red, usually in some rich fabric, as velvet or plush. the etiquette of wearing mourning is less rigorous than formerly. the tendency is more and more to leave the matter to individual feeling. when the mourning garb is adopted, the periods of wearing are shorter, and the phases of change from heaviest to lightest are fewer and less punctilious. whether a full mourning dress of _crêpe_ be worn, or not, it is generally conceded that it is more respectful to wear plain black than to appear in colors during the months immediately following the death of a near relative. the length of time that mourning dress should be worn is a matter of taste; but it should not be laid aside too soon, as though the wearing were an unpleasant duty; nor should it be worn too long, for the sombre robe has a depressing effect on others, especially invalids and children. those who prefer to follow a strict law of etiquette in mourning will observe the following rules: a widow wears deep mourning of woolen stuffs and _crêpe_ for two years. similar mourning is worn one year for a parent, or a brother or sister. for other near relatives, from three to six months, according to degrees of relationship, is considered a respectful period for mourning. a man's wife wears the same degrees of mourning for his near relatives that she would wear for members of her own family. in all cases, the mourning should be "lightened" by degrees. plain black silk, without _crêpe_, and trimmed with jet, belongs to a secondary period. changes are made gradually through black and white combinations, before colors are again worn. during the period of heavy mourning, it is not proper to attend the theatre or opera, or other gay place of amusement; nor to pay formal visits, or attend receptions, except it may be the marriage of a near friend, for which occasion the mourning dress is temporarily laid aside. as a matter of respect, no invitations of a gay social character are sent to the recently afflicted. after three months, such invitations may be sent; of course, not with any expectation that they will be accepted, but merely to show that, though temporarily in seclusion, the bereaved ones are kindly remembered. for men the etiquette of mourning is less conspicuous but equally formal as far as it goes. the periods of wearing mourning are usually shorter than those observed by women in similar cases, probably because the life of business men is not confined to the social world, and its restrictions are less binding upon them in details. at the funeral of a near relative, a man wears black, including gloves, and a mourning band around his hat. subsequently he may continue to wear black for several months, or, if this is not feasible, the hat-band of bombazine is accounted a sufficient mark of respect. the width of the band may be graduated, sometimes covering the surface to within an inch of the top, sometimes being only two or three inches wide. as to the etiquette of men's dress in general, the tale is soon told. the "dress-suit" is worn only at dinner and in the evening. at any hour after six o'clock, a man may with propriety appear anywhere in a dress suit, though it is _required_ only on formal occasions. before dinner, morning dress is worn--the frock coat, or a business suit with its four-buttoned cut-away. as to the minute details of cut and dimensions, the prevailing style of linen and ties, etc.--very appropriately called "notions"--these things vary from season to season. the well-dressed man will consult his tailor and furnisher. hats, boots, and gloves, the extremes of every perfect costume, are important exponents of good style; and careful attention to their choice and wearing is essential to complete and effective dressing. personal habits neatness in personal habits is the first mark of good breeding that strikes the observer. not that a dandy is always a gentleman; but an habitual sloven cannot be. the clothing worn at work may be unavoidably soiled; as also the hands, when occupations involve the handling of dirty substances. but "a little water clears us of this deed; how easy is't then!" the neatly-dressed hair, the fresh clean skin, the well-kept teeth, the smooth polished nails, the spotless linen and the tasteful tie, the well-brushed clothing and the tidy boots, are all points of good form in personal appearance. the toilet once made should be considered finished. the hands should not stray to the hair to re-adjust hair-pins--an absent-minded habit. the nervous toying with ear-rings or brooches, or dress buttons, is another mannerism to be guarded against. the hands should learn the grace of repose. it is a great triumph of nervous control for a woman _to hold her hands still_ when they are not definitely employed. if the attitudes of sitting and standing are practiced under the direction of the teacher of "physical culture," one will probably be innocent of such solecisms as thrusting the feet out to display the shoes; sitting sideways, or cross-legged; or slipping half-way down in the chair; or bending over a book in round-shouldered position; rocking violently; beating a noisy tattoo with impatient toes; or standing on one foot with the body thrown out of line, etc., etc. scratching the head or ears, and picking the teeth, are operations that are properly attended to in one's own dressing-room. the conspicuous use of the handkerchief is in bad form. blowing the nose is not a pleasant demonstration at any time, and at the table is simply unpardonable. a person of fastidious taste will take care of the nose in the quietest and most unobtrusive way, and refrain from disgusting other people of fastidious taste. "familiarity breeds contempt." laying the hand upon another's head or shoulder, clinging to the arms or about the waist, is a freedom that only near relationship or close friendship will excuse. among slight acquaintances it is an unwarrantable liberty. even at the impulsive "school-girl age" young ladies should be taught to repel such under-bred familiarities. social co-operation those who accept a social invitation virtually pledge themselves to bear a part in making the entertainment an agreeable success. whether one's talent lies in conversation, or music, or in the rare gift for _commingling_ and promoting harmonies in a social gathering, he or she should feel bound to make some effort to add to the pleasure of the occasion. young men who attend private balls should be obliging about dancing, and amiably assist the hostess in finding partners for the shy or unattractive girls, who are liable to be neglected by selfish young people. _not_ to make an effort to contribute to the success of the affair is a negative fault, perhaps. but what shall we say of those whose influence is positively adverse?--those who attend a party with curious eyes bent upon picking flaws, and who indulge in jealous depreciation; or who, in a spirit of social rivalry, make a note of "points," with a view to outdoing the hostess in the near future. such a spirit--and its presence is not easily veiled--is a veritable achan in the camp; and a few such rude people can poison the atmosphere of an otherwise genial reception. verily, they have their reward, for the stamp of ill-breeding is set on their querulous _little_ faces. but, if such spirits contribute nothing to the social fund,--because they have nothing to contribute,--you, who have, must do double duty. and nothing is more needed than tactful conversation. the oddest criticism that i have ever encountered from a reviewer was the laconic and cynical remark (commenting upon my rather altruistic belief in the duty of giving one's best thought to the conversational circle), that "nowadays, people don't _talk_: if they have any good ideas, they save them and write them out and _sell them_." the critic implied that, otherwise, in this age of universal scribbling, some plagiarist would appropriate these ideas and hurry them to the magazine market before the original thinker had time to fix the jewel in a setting of his own. of course, the little brain thief is common enough; but it had never occurred to me to be so wary. it struck me "with the full force of novelty," that any one should be deterred from speech by such a consideration. i have since wondered whether that particular phase of serpent-wisdom accounts for the non-committal silences with which some well-known wits entertain the social circle, the while a despairing hostess is making the best of such help as a few lively chatterboxes can give her. not that i ever saw any notably superior talkers struck dumb in this way; richard brinsley sheridan never was, if i recall correctly. why should _you_ be? if your bright idea is stolen, you can spare it; if you are truly bright, you have many more where that one came from. but beware of forced brightness. wit is nothing if not spontaneous. if nature has not endowed you with the instantaneous perception of contrasts and incongruities, out of which flashes the swift conceit called wit, do not imagine you are "dull" or uninteresting. there are other gifts and graces less superficial, far more rare, and ultimately more influential, than wit. and though you are witty, do not talk nonsense over-much. remember that it is the "_little_ nonsense now and then" that is "relished by the best of men." it is perilously easy to weary people with the "smart" style of talk. but let your cheerful sense, grave or gay, be as good an offering to your friends as you know how to make. your next special occasion--for which you might have "saved" all these things--will lose nothing of value. it may rather gain fourfold, by the reflex inspiration that replenishes every unselfish outpouring of the nobler social spirit. on the wing travelers have certain rights guaranteed by their regularly-purchased tickets. within such bounds they are privileged to claim all comforts and immunities. but the mannerly tourist will claim no more. he will not take up more room than he is entitled to while other passengers are discommoded. nor will he persist in keeping his particular window open when the draught and the cinders therefrom are troublesome or dangerous to other people. if travelers carry a lunch-basket, they should discuss its contents quietly, and be careful not to litter the floor with crumbs, or the _débris_ of fruits and nuts, nor to leave any trace of its presence after the luncheon is finished. if a lady is traveling under the escort of a gentleman, she will give him as little trouble as possible. she will amuse herself by reading, or studying the landscape, leaving him at liberty to choose similar diversions when conversation grows tedious. she will carry few parcels, and if possible will have arranged for some one to meet her at her station, so that her obliging guardian need not be taxed to look after her beyond the railway journey's end. if the gentleman has attended to the purchase of tickets, and the paying of dining-car fees, etc., the lady will repay those expenditures, as a matter of course, thanking him for the trouble that he has taken to give her "safe conduct." a gentleman thus traveling as escort will attend to all matters of tickets, the checking of baggage, etc.; and will see that the lady is comfortably settled for her journey, with some thoughtful provision in the way of magazines, and possibly a basket of fine fruit. he will see that the porter and the maid (if there is one) are attentive to her comfort, and will not relinquish his charge until he leaves her, either at her final destination, or in the care of some one authorized to relieve him of the responsibility. he will perform all these duties cheerfully, and endeavor to convey the idea that it is a pleasure to him; and this will be better shown in his manner than by any conventional protestations. there ought not to be such a thing as "hotel manners." but there is; and it suggests certain important injunctions. hotel partitions are usually thin, and sounds are penetrating. private affairs should not be loudly discussed. tourists should learn to converse in quiet tones, and to make as little "racket" as possible with furniture, boots, etc., and to be polite enough not to keep other guests awake late at night with the noise of music, laughter, or loud talking. the "manners" at table, in the reading-rooms, and about the corridors should conform to whatever law of etiquette in private or public life the incidents may indicate; since, at a hotel, one is both _at_ home and _not_ at home, in two different aspects. in driving with ladies, a gentleman gives them the seat facing the horses, riding backward himself if any one must. he will alight from the carriage first, on the side nearest his seat, to avoid passing in front of the ladies; and will assist them to alight, giving as much or as little support as the case demands. a light finger-tip on an elbow is all the help that a sprightly girl may need, but her grandmother may require to be tenderly lifted out bodily. a gentleman will discriminate, and not use an uncalled-for familiarity in helping a lady out of a carriage. when several ladies are driving, the youngest ones in the party will ride backwards. a hostess driving with her guests enters her carriage _after_ them, unless they are noticeably younger than she is; but she does not relinquish her usual seat to _any one_, unless she happens to have a party of venerable ladies. etiquette of gifts wedding presents should be chosen with due reference to the circumstances of the bride. for the daughter of wealthy parents, who weds a husband of large means--and to whom all desirable _useful_ things are assured--articles of _virtu_, and bewildering creations in the way of costly "fancy articles," are suitable wedding gifts. for a quiet little bride who is going to housekeeping on a moderate income, articles that are useful as well as beautiful are appropriate and acceptable. a handsome substantial chair, a cabinet for china, pretty china to put in it, some standard books, a set of fine table linen,--almost anything within the range of dainty house-furnishing shows the good taste of the giver. presents that owe their creation to the ingenuity and labor of one's friends--as hand-painted screens or china, embroidered work, or, if one is artistic, a painting or etching--are peculiarly complimentary wedding gifts. in general, the exchange of gifts is desirable only between friends who care enough for each other not only to _give_, but to be willing to _accept_--the latter being a severer test of friendship. between two women, or between two men, these matters adjust themselves. a man should not offer valuable gifts to any lady outside of his own family, unless she is very much his senior, and a friend of long standing. similarly, a lady should not accept valuable gifts from a gentleman unless his relationship to her warrants it. trifling tokens of friendship or gallantry--a book, a bouquet, or a basket of bon-bons--are not amiss; but a lady should not be under obligation to a man for presents that plainly represent a considerable money value. when a gift is accepted, the recipient should not make too obvious haste to return the compliment, lest he or she seem unwilling to rest under obligation. it is polite to allow a generous friend some space of time in which to enjoy the "blessedness of giving." "independence" is an excellent thing; but it becomes peculiarly rude when it takes the form of refusing all trifling favors. it is often the greatest wisdom as well as kindness, to allow some one to do us a favor. enemies have been transformed into friends by this tactful process; for, as one always hates one whom he has injured, so, on the reverse, he cannot help feeling an increased glow of kindliness toward one whom he has benefited. when some unsophisticated person innocently offers a gift that strict conventionality would forbid one to accept, it is sometimes better to suspend the rules and accept the token, than by refusal to hurt the feelings of one who has perhaps offended the letter, but not the spirit, of the law. gifts of flowers to the convalescent--tokens that the busy outside world has not forgotten him--are among the most graceful expressions of courteous interest. any one--even a total stranger--may send these, if "the spirit moves," and the circumstances are such that the act could bear no possible misinterpretation. gallantry and coquetry that a man enjoys the society of a charming woman, that a woman delights in the conversation of a brilliant man, is no sign that either of them is a flirt. few things are more vulgar than the readiness to infer a flirtation from every case of marked mutual interest between a man and a woman. the interchange of bright ideas, interspersed with the spontaneous sallies of gallantry and the instinctive _repartee_ of innocent coquetry--an archery of wit and humor, grave and gay,--this is one of the salient features of civilized social life. it has nothing in common with the shallow travesty of sentiment that characterizes a pointless flirtation. the latter is _bad form_ whenever and wherever existing. a sincere sentiment is not reduced to the straits of expressing itself in such uncertain language. it is fair to conclude that some insincerity, or some lack of a correct basis for sentiment, is betrayed in every pointless flirtation. it is hopelessly bad form. young people who gratify vanity by idle "conquests," so called, make a sufficiently conspicuous show of ill-breeding; but a _married flirt_ is worse than vulgar. a woman may accept every tribute that a chivalrous man may offer to her talent or wit, so long as it is expressed in a hearty spirit of good comradeship, and with a clear and unmistakable deference to her self-respecting dignity; but a well-bred woman will resent as an insult to her womanhood any quasi-sentimental overtures _from a man who has not the right to make them_. etiquette requires that the association of men and women in refined circles shall be frank without freedom, friendly without familiarity. "flirting" is a plebeian diversion. every well-bred woman is a queen, for whose sake every well-bred man will hold a lance in rets. in conclusion since censoriousness is a quality utterly antagonistic to good manners, it is well to reflect that, while etiquette lays down many laws, it also indulgently grants generous absolution. while we decide that certain forms and methods of action are _correct_ and _good form_, we must remember that all people, ourselves included, are liable to be occasionally remiss in little things, and that we must not too hastily decide a man's status on the score of breeding by his punctilious observance of conventional laws. there are some requirements of etiquette that have their foundation in the idea of convenience or feasibility; others that are essentially requisite as the exponent of decency. a man may easily be far from perfect in details of the former class, and yet be a refined gentleman; but he cannot offend in the latter class of instances without being a boor. something worse than eating with his knife must ostracize a man, and something no greater than spitting on the sidewalk should accomplish the feat at one fell stroke. there is an infallible constancy in good breeding. like charity, of which it is so largely an exponent, it "never faileth." one's manner to two different people, respectively, may not be _the same_, but it should be _equally courteous_, whether it expresses the cordial friendliness of social equals or the just esteem of one either higher or lower than one's self in the social scale. "no man is a hero to his _valet_," because the heroic is confined to great and rare occasions. but every gentleman is a _gentleman_ to his _valet_, for the qualities that distinguish the gentleman are every day and every hour manifested. images generously made available by the preservation department, kelvin smith library, case western reserve university (http://library.case.edu/ksl/whoweare/departments/preservation/digitized.ht l) note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h.zip) images of the original pages are available through the preservation department, kelvin smith library, case western reserve university. see http://hdl.handle.net/ /ksl:coosoc /coosoc .pdf social life or the manners and customs of polite society containing the rules of etiquette for all occasions and forming a complete guide to self-culture in conversation, dress, deportment, correspondence, the care of children and the home. by maud c. cooke, the well-known and popular author. embellished with colored phototypes. buffalo, n.y. the matthews-northrup co. entered according to act of congress, in the year , by j. r. jones, in the office of the librarian of congress, at washington, d.c. all rights reserved. [illustration: good morning.] preface. there is much truth and force in the old saying, that "manners make the man." all persons should know how to appear to the best advantage in polite society. this very attractive volume furnishes rules of etiquette for all occasions, and is a complete guide for daily use in all matters pertaining to social intercourse. the first department treats of introductions and salutations. the rules given under this head are those constantly observed in the best society. the same is equally true of all the instructions throughout the book, which is the most complete work on this subject ever issued. the next department treats of the very important art of conversation. it has been said, with truth, that "a good talker is always a social success." the reader is here taught how to converse agreeably and with ease. to be a bright, witty, interesting talker, is a most charming accomplishment. this volume is a help in this respect, the value of which cannot be overestimated. visiting cards and customs are next treated, and all the perplexing questions which they occasion are fully answered. with this very comprehensive volume at hand, no person will be guilty of blunders and humiliating mistakes. invitations, formal and informal, acceptances and regrets, form another topic. the work furnishes full information and is authority upon all matters of social etiquette. all young persons, and some older ones, are deeply interested in the etiquette of courtship and marriage, weddings and wedding anniversaries. these subjects are treated in a manner at once practical and instructive. the usages of the best society in giving parties, dinners, teas, receptions, breakfasts, luncheons, etc., are minutely described. also, home etiquette and etiquette for children. with this volume in the home, parents can easily teach the young polite and winning manners. miscellaneous entertainments form a department that is bright and sparkling. the dark side of life is not overlooked, etiquette of funerals forming a separate topic. how the young lady should "come out" is stated in full, with invaluable instructions to her parents and herself. then we come to etiquette of public places, followed by that of walking, riding, boating, driving, etc. etiquette for bicycle riders receives full attention. here are hints for travelers, for hostess and guest, general etiquette and delsarte discipline, musicales, soirées, lawn parties, etc. washington etiquette is described and all the proper titles for professional and public men are given. the art of dress receives exhaustive treatment, and the rules to be observed by those who would dress tastefully are very complete. they who are well dressed have already made a favorable impression upon others. suggestions and rules upon this subject are important to all who would shine in social life. letter-writing makes constant demands upon nearly all persons, yet its difficulties are perplexing. here are plain directions upon this subject, which should be studied and followed by all who would succeed in the great art of elegant correspondence. it is essential often to have the best forms for letters, happily expressed, choice in the use of words and easy and correct in grammatical construction. artistic home decorations are fully treated, showing how to have a pretty, tasteful and inviting home at least expense. this subject is receiving great attention everywhere, and this delightful volume should be in every household in the land, as it furnishes just the information needed. fireplaces and windows, stairways, woodwork, doors, lighting, decorating, furniture and paintings, are among the topics treated in this part of the volume. in short, this work is a treasury of rules and information on every subject of social etiquette, self-culture and home life. an entirely new and very important feature is the beautiful phototype engravings in rich colors. the publishers consider themselves fortunate in being able to present these new and admirable embellishments, which have been pronounced gems of art. contents. page title-page i preface iii contents v the essence of etiquette introductions and salutations art of conversation visiting cards visiting customs invitations, formal and informal acceptances and regrets etiquette of courtship and marriage weddings and wedding anniversaries home etiquette etiquette for children dinner giving table etiquette evening parties, receptions and suppers balls, dancing and masquerades soirÉes, musicales and lawn parties breakfasts, luncheons and teas miscellaneous entertainments christenings, confirmations and graduations etiquette of funerals and mourning etiquette of public places walking, riding, boating, driving bicycle etiquette club etiquette society general etiquette washington etiquette delsartean discipline art of dress colors and complexions dress for special occasions letter writing forms for letters artistic home decorations how to be beautiful [illustration] [illustration: the summer outing--a morning call.] the essence of etiquette. [illustration] the old chronicler says, "manners maketh man." "manners are not the character, but they are the dress of character," adds a modern writer. manners are not the pure gold of the mind, but they set the mint stamp upon the crude ore and fit it for circulation, and few there be who may dare to set aside their valuation. to genius only is this privilege granted, and genius is exceeding rare. it should be remembered that more people can give the list of dr. samuel johnson's sins against good manners than can quote from his "rasselas" and "rambler," while there will always be more who can descant upon the selfish, tyrannical ill-breeding of thomas carlyle than can estimate the value and immensity of his literary labors. the essence of all etiquette will be found in that golden rule from holy writ that enjoins upon us to "do unto others as we would that they should do unto us," and whereon lord chesterfield based his maxim for the cultivation of manners: "observe carefully what pleases or displeases you in others, and be persuaded that, in general, the same things will please or displease them in you." the social code, even in its smallest particulars, is the outgrowth of a kindly regard for the feelings of others, even in the little things of life, and a kindly sympathy for all that interests your companions. "be hospitable toward the ideas of others," says dr. george ripley. "some people," he asserts, "only half listen to you, because they are considering, even while you speak, with what wealth of wit they will reply." such people may be brilliant, but they can never be agreeable. you feel that they are impatient to have their own turn come, and have none of the gentle receptiveness so pleasing to our own _ego_ that rebels against their egotism. it is the kind and sympathetic soul that wins friends, and "he who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare, but he who has an enemy will find him everywhere." our first impressions of a man are impressions of his manners. we designate him from the first glimpse of his face, first sound of his voice, as an affable, agreeable and sincere individual; or as crabbed, cross-grained and suspicious in his temperament, and are attracted by, or repelled from him, according to the characteristics with which his manners have clothed him. the influence of good manners. so potent is this power exercised over the world by the gentle sway of manners that their possession is worthy the cultivation and care we put forth for the attainment of all gracious, pleasant things, and to their possessor is given the key to which all doors open. emerson was one of the most acute observers of manners that culture has ever produced, and he wrote: "the longer i live the more i am impressed with the importance of manners. when we reflect upon their persuasive and cheering force, how they recommend, prepare and draw people together; when we think what keys they are, and to what secrets; what high and inspiring character they convey and what divination is required of us for the reading of this fine telegraphy, we see what range the subject has." manners, with some, are the gracious legacy of inheritance, education, and environment; with others they are the growth of the careful cultivation of years, and carry with them the calm self-poise of the man who has conquered circumstances and established his own position. in such as these there inheres a certain power that impresses itself upon all who come in contact with its influence. the self-possession and certainty stamped upon the face of a man who inherited, or won for himself, the sure and perfect armor of good-breeding, is but the outer stamp of the man himself. manners are profitable as well as pleasant. they carry with them a measureless weight of influence. a gentleman once brought into his library a costly subscription book. "my dear," said his wife, "you already had a copy of that work." "i knew i did," he replied, "but the manners of the lad who sold it were so elegant that it was a pleasure to purchase it." the charm of good manners is not a qualification belonging to any particular station in life, for, to the poor and unlettered oftimes may be traced deeds and actions that mark them as nature's noblemen. education, wealth and social station do not always confer them, but the outer grace may be acquired by all. in this way it has come to be known that a refinement of laws in any country indicates that a gradual refinement of manners has led up towards, and finally crystallized into a refinement of the hearts and the laws of the people. the marks of true politeness. true politeness is always known by its lack of assumption. president tyler, in advising his daughter-in-law previous to her taking her position as lady of the white house, used these noteworthy words: "it is, i trust, scarcely necessary to say that, as upon you will devolve the duty of presiding at the white house, you should be equal and untiring in your affabilities to all. you should remember that nothing shows a little soul so much as the exhibition of airs or assumptions under any circumstances." the minor observances have much to do with the polishing and perfecting of the manners of men. these little things that mark one as being "to the manor born" are not the growth of moments but the slow accretions of years; neither can their use be dropped in the privacy of home to be assumed at pleasure for the outside world to admire, else they will fit but illy, as borrowed plumes are wont to do. the best-intentioned and best-hearted people that the world has ever known are too often careless in the slight observances that mean so much to the cultivated. thoreau says, "i could better eat with one who did not respect the truth or the laws than with a sloven and unpresentable person. moral qualities rule the world, but at short range the senses are despotic." "the code of society is just a little stronger with some individuals than the code of sinai, and many a man who would not scruple to put his fingers in your pocket, would forego peas rather than use his knife as a shovel." the great value of courtesy. "be courteous," is an apostolic command that too many earthly followers of the twelve would do well to consider. they are just, they are truthful, sometimes aggressively so; they are conscientious, they weary not in well-doing, but--they are not courteous. they are not good mannered, and by so much as they sin in this regard do they lose their power to win. "good manners," says one, "are more serviceable than a passport, than a bank account, than a lineage. they make friends for us; they are more potent than eloquence or genius without them." they add to beauty, they detract from personal ugliness, they cast a glamour over defects, in short, they work the miracle of mind over matter exemplified in the case of the extremely plain madame de staël, who was reputed to "talk herself beautiful in five minutes." they teach us the beauty of self-sacrifice, they constrain us to listen, with an appearance of interest to a twice-told tale, they teach the wife to smile over the somewhat worn jest of the husband, as she smiled in like fashion in the days of auld lang syne, or, harder still, they enjoin upon us to follow the duc de morny's definition of a polite man, as "one who listens with interest to things he knows all about, when they are told by a person who knows nothing about them." they impress upon us to guard the feelings of others, they warn us to avoid the familiarity that breeds contempt, and, above all, they are contagious! there is much to be said as to the true definition of those beautiful but abused terms, lady and gentleman, each with its strong, sweet meaning. "a lady is one who, to inbred modesty and refinement, adds a scrupulous attention to the rights and feelings of others, and applies the golden rule of doing as she would be done by, to all who are connected with her, both at home and in society." while a gentleman has been described as: "whoever is true, loyal and candid; whoever possesses a pleasing, affable, demeanor; whoever is honorable in himself and in his judgment of others and requires no law but his word to make him fulfil all engagements." such men and such women are "ladies" and "gentlemen" whether they are found in the peasant's hut or the prince's palace. rules of etiquette. the following rules, published some time ago as a receipt for that beauty of expression so much more lasting and attractive than mere beauty of feature, were written originally for the guidance of woman, but they are equally applicable to the needs of man. " . learn to govern yourself and to be gentle and patient. " . guard your temper, especially in seasons of ill-health, irritation, and trouble, and soften it by a sense of your own shortcomings and errors. " . never speak or act in anger. " . remember that, valuable as is the gift of speech, silence is often more valuable. " . do not expect too much from others, but forbear and forgive, as you desire forbearance and forgiveness yourself. " . never retort a sharp or angry word. it is the second word that makes the quarrel. " . beware of the first disagreement. " . learn to speak in a gentle tone of voice. " . learn to say kind and pleasant things when opportunity offers. " . study the characters of those with whom you come in contact, and sympathize with them in all their troubles, however small. " . do not neglect little things if they can affect the comfort of others in the smallest degree. " . avoid moods, and pets, and fits of sulkiness. " . learn to deny yourself and prefer others. " . beware of meddlers and tale-bearers. " . never charge a bad motive, if a good one is conceivable." courtesy, charity and love are one, and, when all good deeds are done the warning comes: "if ye have not charity" all is naught. therefore: "a sweet, attractive kind of grace, a full assurance given by looks, continual comfort in a face, the lineaments of gospel-books." do ye all things courteously, founding precept and practice upon that old rule, the golden rule, which is the alpha and the omega of all good manners and the very essence of all etiquette. [illustration] introductions and salutations [illustration] indiscriminate introductions are always in bad taste, yet, since the sweetest of our friendships are wont to reach us through the medium of a formal presentation, it is well that we understand how, when and where these introductions should properly take place. as a rule, introductions, to be agreeable, should be desired before being given; and since we are, or should be, in a measure, the endorsers of those whom we present to our friends, a due degree of care should be exercised in so doing, lest inadvertently we force upon another what may prove an undesirable acquaintance. introductions are given in cases of necessity, such as business transactions, or emergencies that may arise in traveling, as when we wish to consign some friend to the care of another. they are given at balls, that partners may be found for all the dancers. here, however, care must be taken beforehand to ascertain if the parties will dance, for such is the selfishness and, shall it be said, ill-breeding of our society young men that not unfrequently they will walk away without even offering the lady the courtesy of the next dance. in this way her hostess unwittingly exposes her to a marked slight, since the ball-room introduction is supposed to mean an intention on the part of the gentleman to show some attention to the lady, with whom he should either dance, promenade, or talk through one set. neither are young ladies quite guiltless in this respect, since it often happens that they refuse partners from simple caprice, and no gentleman likes to be refused, even for a quadrille. it may be added that these introductions necessitate no after acknowledgments on either side unless mutually agreeable. introductions are given at card parties when necessary to fill out tables for a game and they occur also where one person especially wishes another to become acquainted with a friend. an english custom. strangers are always introduced to visitors, and at dinners, if previously unacquainted, the gentleman is introduced, a few minutes beforehand, to the lady he is to take out to the table. in england, however, where they exercise great care in giving introductions, even this formality is not always complied with. richard grant white speaks of being informed at the last moment, in some house whose owner boasted many titles, that he was to take down "the lady in pink over there in the bay window," to whom, therefore, he duly went, and, bending an inviting elbow, said in his most persuasive tones: "may i have the pleasure?" the proffered honor was accepted, and he and the lady, each equally ignorant as to the other's identity, went out to spend a long two hours in entertaining one another. the one redeeming feature of this english custom is that everyone, at private entertainments, talks to everyone else without an introduction, considering that the fact of them being guests under the same roof is a species of endorsement for all, and, better still, this sociability carries with it no after obligations, because, since they are not introduced, they are not acquainted. in this country, owing probably to the unfortunate frequency of introductions among us, a certain chill pervades the atmosphere when a portion of the guests are unacquainted with one another, for, as a rule, no one here attempts to converse without having been properly presented. in metropolitan circles, however, this is not so much the case, and as our country glows older it is to be hoped that "a change will come o'er the spirit of our dream" in this respect, thus lessening the present responsibility of our hostesses, who, torn between two opposing factions, feel that "if i introduce mrs. so-and-so to mrs. blank she will never forgive me, and if i do not introduce mrs. blank to mrs. so-and-so i shall have made a mortal enemy." at a party given in behalf of a _débutante_ she is to be introduced to every lady present, and every gentleman is to be presented to her. in case there should be a distinguished guest present at any entertainment, all other guests must be made acquainted with the favored one. you may introduce yourself. there are also times when it is eminently proper to introduce one's self, such as when you find upon entering a drawing room that the hostess has forgotten your name; or if it should have been wrongly announced; or if you are an entire stranger to the hostess, it is not only proper, but imperative, to introduce yourself at once. then, too, it occasionally happens that a gentleman, wishing to render some assistance to a lady who is traveling alone, prefers to introduce himself beforehand. this, of course, leaves the lady perfectly free to recognize him or not at any future time. occasions such as these are constantly arising, and tact and judgment must be used to decide the question for one's self. watering-place introductions are frequently given for the convenience and pleasure of the time being. they are usually made by the eldest lady of either party and further recognition in the future is optional. do not introduce people in public places. do not, even if a friend should overtake you and walk by your side for some distance, or should meet and talk with you, introduce him to another friend with whom you are also walking. you may do it, however, in exceptional cases. do not, as a rule, introduce two people who are inhabitants of the same town; it is to be supposed that they could have known one another had they cared so to do. still, it is well to exercise judgment in this one particular, since what could be done unquestioned in a city parlor cannot always be accomplished without exciting comment and ill-feeling in a country town. do not introduce gentlemen to ladies without first being sure that the acquaintance will be agreeable to the lady, since it is much more difficult for a lady to shake off an undesirable acquaintance than it is for a gentleman. in the case of foreigners it is always well to be careful before introducing them to young ladies at their own request, since it often happens that foreign titles, found upon this side the water, are extremely dubious. hence one is clearly justified in referring them to her parents or guardians for the required favor. a custom out of date. introductions at evening parties are, fortunately, very much out of date, except it is for partners in dancing, or unless there should be so many strangers present as to threaten overwhelming the entire party in speechless gloom. occasionally in the country some old-fashioned hosts persist in handing each newcomer around the room like refreshments for an introduction to each one present. this custom puts the later arrivals in the position, as some one says, "of making a semi-circular bow like a concert singer before an audience," and this, to non-professionals, is not a little embarrassing. timid people, and people unaccustomed to the rules of social etiquette, always feel a certain dread in going through the slight formality of an introduction. nothing, however, if one remembers a few timely hints, can be simpler than this little ceremony so necessary for each of us to perform many times in our intercourse with others. recollect always to introduce the gentleman to the lady, never the lady to the gentleman, except in the case of very exalted rank, extreme age or the possession of great eminence in intellectual or artistic life; otherwise, the rule is inflexible save in introducing a youthful "rosebud" formally to an elderly gentleman, in which case you would present her to him. the chivalry of etiquette assumes that a man is always honored by presentation to a lady. in introducing ladies, present the younger to the elder, unless in case of some marked exception such as those given above. the simplest form in presenting one person to another is always the best. a wife presents her husband as "mr. north," "colonel north," or "doctor north," always giving him his rightful titles. the wife of the president should introduce him as "the president," while we should address him as "mr. president." in introducing a gentleman to a lady one should say, "mrs. a., allow (or permit) me to introduce (or present) mr. b.; mr. b., mrs. a.," being sure that the names are distinctly pronounced. if this should not be the case, let the parties themselves ask it at once, a simple "i beg pardon, i did not understand the name," saving much future annoyance. forms of introduction. in introducing two ladies the same formula may be used, as: "mrs. y., allow me to introduce mrs. z.; mrs. z., mrs. y." or one may say: "mrs. y., this is my friend mrs. z.; mrs. z., mrs. y." a still further variation is to say "mrs. y., i believe you have never met mrs. z.; mrs. z., mrs. y." in introducing two gentlemen any of the above forms may be used. if the introduction is given simply for business purposes it should be short and concise, as: mr. a., mr. b.; mr. b., mr. a. in introducing a stranger it will always be well to make some little explanatory remark that may be used as a stepping-stone toward beginning a conversation, thus "miss s., allow me to present mr. t., who is just back from africa," or, "miss e., this is my friend mr. f., the composer of that little song you sang just now." any remark like this always serves to make the opening of the conversation easier. an introduction received, or solicited, simply for your own convenience, as a business recommendation, or otherwise, entitles you to no after benefits, or social recognition. where there are several waiting for an introduction to the same individual, name the latter first, then in succession name the others, bowing slightly, as each name is pronounced, in the direction of the one named. thus: "colonel parker, allow me to present to you mrs. roe, miss doe, and doctor brown," being sure always to give every one their full honorary title in making the introduction. in introducing relatives be very sure to give their full name. a sister, for instance, should be introduced as, "my sister, miss roe;" or, "miss mary roe," or, "my sister, mrs. doe," as the case may be, making sure always never to say "my sister mary," or, "my brother joe," thereby leaving the stranger ignorant as to name or estate. a mother is always at liberty to introduce her son or daughter; a husband is supposed always to introduce his wife, and a wife her husband. what should follow the introduction. nowadays, the usual recognition of an introduction is by a formal bow. handshaking rarely occurs and a gentleman introduced to a lady never offers his hand unless she should first extend her own. the inclination on the part of the lady is slight, that of the gentleman deeper. the custom of a courtesy by the lady has scarcely taken root in this country. a hostess receiving in her own parlors is at liberty, if she should wish, to extend her hand to all comers. a gentleman upon being introduced to a lady usually suggests that he is "happy to make her acquaintance," or, "delighted to make the acquaintance of miss b----," though, if he choose, he may simply bow, repeating her name. a lady, upon introduction to a gentleman, simply bows, possibly repeating his name, but never is "happy" or "delighted" to make his acquaintance. the pleasure is supposed to be upon his part, the condescension upon her side. she should, however, upon his expression of pleasure, bow, with a slight smile, or a murmured "thank you," in return, though, a married lady, especially if she be a little the elder, may cordially say she is "glad to meet him." it is the place of a gentleman, after an introduction to a lady, to make some remark calculated to set the conversational ball rolling, and she should endeavor to supplement his efforts sufficiently to keep up the conversation. if, however, the gentleman be younger than the lady and somewhat embarrassed, she should show sufficient tact to open the conversation herself. if the introduction is between two ladies, the one who is introduced should make the first remark. letters of introduction are fully commented upon and explained in this volume in the department on correspondence, where the proper forms for such letters are given. all introductions, however annoying, should be received pleasantly and acknowledged fully while under the roof where they are given, though, an hour after, the two might pass one another in speechless silence. this is for the hostess' sake, and so great is this solicitude on the part of the well-bred that mortal enemies have met and smiled across the mahogany of a mutual friend, thus preventing the utter chagrin of a hostess who discovers, by frowning faces and averted gaze, that her carefully arranged dinner is a partial failure. a lady's wishes should be respected. gentlemen rarely ask for introductions to one another, but, should a lady, for any cause, express a desire to present two men of her acquaintance to one another, they must, even if not anxious for the honor, acquiesce instantly in her request. an introduction given between two visitors calling at the same house need not carry with it any weight unless both parties so desire. at the time, a bow is the most that is demanded; afterward, it is the individual having the most social prestige, or, if there is no difference in standing, the one having most confidence, to whom this privilege is given of acknowledging or ignoring the introduction. a bowing acquaintance with a person thus introduced cannot in the least injure the social position of an individual. an introduction given on the street needs no after recognition. at the time, a gentleman simply lifts his hat, a lady bows, and that is all. after any introduction (except the one just mentioned) never give the cut direct save for very good cause. it is too often an uncalled-for insult. salutations. the style of salutation differs among nations, but there have been none yet discovered so low in the social scale as to be entirely destitute of some sign for expressions of respect or fear between man and man. fear is, perhaps, the origin of respect, for every form of salutation among us to-day may be traced back to a source that plainly affirms it to be the survival of some attitude of deference from the conquered to the conqueror, or some habit of adoration of an unseen power. in our own customs of salutation we bare the head in token of respect, never thinking that in the olden time it was an act of adoration practiced before gods and rulers. our formal bow is simply the modification of a servile prostration, and the graceful bow of a lady of society is but the last remaining trace of a genuflection. when we rise and stand as our friends enter, or leave, our reception-room, it is an act of respect, it was once an act of homage. the throwing of a kiss is an imitation of an act of worship that devout romans practiced before their gods, and the wave of the hand to a friend across the street is a modification of the same custom. the removal of a gentleman's glove in shaking hands with a lady is the relic of a habit based on necessity, and dating back to a day when the knight of old removed his iron gauntlet, lest he crush the maiden's hand within its grasp. the removal of the glove was practiced between men also at a later date, when, too often, beneath the heavily embroidered gauntlet, lurked the assassin's dagger, so that to unglove before a hand-clasp grew to be considered an act of good faith. the bow, the hand-clasp, and the kiss are the principal methods of salutation employed by the most highly civilized nations of this era of the world. the bow is the most proper salutation among friends and acquaintances meeting in public. it is also frequently resorted to on private occasions. the bow should never degenerate into a nod; this is both ungracious and ungentlemanly. the hat should be lifted sufficiently to clear the head, and the bow, in the reception room, should slightly incline the body also. ladies should incline their heads gracefully and smile upon their friends pleasantly, but not broadly. removing the hat. a gentleman should remove his hat from his head with the hand farthest from the person saluted. this turns the hat from instead of towards them. if you see that the person saluted is going to stop to shake hands, use the left in order to leave the right free. a gentleman, in giving assistance to a lady in any difficulty (which should be offered immediately), should do so courteously, lifting his hat and requesting the pleasure of assisting her. this rule, unfortunately, is much more frequently observed on the continent of europe than in england or america. gentlemen meeting and passing ladies on hotel stairs, or in the corridors, should lift their hats, whether acquainted or not. the same courtesy should be observed on entering an elevator where there are one or more ladies, or in opening a door for a lady and giving her precedence in entering. all these observances, slight as they are, mark the thorough gentleman who respects all women, whether or not there has been a formal presentation between them. in giving up a seat to a lady in a street car, or a crowded room, a gentleman will do so with a slight bow. such a kindness should always be acknowledged by the lady with a bow and a polite "thank you." american women are too prone to take this altogether optional courtesy on the part of men as a matter of course, deserving no thanks at their hands, or to look upon its omission as an infringement of their rights. no true lady will ever fail to acknowledge such courtesies. any aid given, or information furnished, should also call forth her thanks. a gentleman walking with a lady will salute with a bow any person they may meet to whom she extends the same courtesy, even should the party be quite unknown to him. where two gentlemen are walking together and they chance to meet a lady with whom one is acquainted and the other not, both should bow, the one because of his acquaintance and the other out of respect. the privilege of recognition. a gentleman should usually wait for a lady to recognize him first on the street. this privilege of recognition is her prerogative. especially is this the case if he is simply the acquaintance of a single evening's entertainment. acquaintances of long standing, however, do not wait for such formalities, usually speaking at about the same moment. when a gentleman and lady are walking together and another gentleman, also a friend of the lady, should meet or overtake the couple, a bow and smile and a word of greeting are all that can be permitted the newcomer, when he should at once pass on. by doing otherwise he affronts the lady's escort, and should she, by word or look, endeavor to retain him at her side, she also sins against that conventional code which argues that by her own consent she has granted her company, for the time being, to her first escort. as before said, introductions are not to be given in public places, but should it happen that a lady walking with a gentleman meet another lady, and either pause for a few words, or else walk on beside her for a few steps, the gentleman, at her departure, should lift his hat politely in farewell. if a gentleman should stop a lady on the street for conversation, and she should be desirous of discontinuing it, she should bow slightly, whereupon the gentleman must instantly take his leave. if she should walk on without breaking up the conversation, he is bound to accompany her. absolute good form, however, demands that a gentleman, wishing to converse with a lady on the street, should, instead of stopping her, turn and walk with her for a short distance in the direction in which she may be going. when the conversation is finished, he should lift his hat, bow, wish her "good morning" or "good afternoon," as the case may be, and retrace his footsteps in the direction in which he was previously going. young ladies show the same deference in awaiting a bow from a woman much their senior that a gentleman does towards a lady. a gentleman, in bowing to a lady, if he should be smoking, removes his cigar from his lips, and if, alas! his hand or hands should be in his pockets, withdraws them immediately. returning salutations. a lady's bow should always be returned by a gentleman; if he should be determined not to recognize her he should take the pains of crossing the street or in some other manner avoiding the meeting. bows from persons not recognized at the moment should be returned, as it may be some one, not recalled at the moment, yet who has a claim upon your politeness. if the same friend is met several times in the course of a walk or drive, the first bow is all that is required, a smile, or a glance answering all purposes of recognition at after meetings. a gentleman lifts his hat on passing a funeral procession or a group of mourners; he removes it entirely on entering a church, and he should remove it on entering a private office; he should remain uncovered while talking to a lady at a door, unless, after the kindly custom of french ladies, she should request him to replace his hat, on account of wind or weather; in short, he should be with uncovered head much more than american men are apt to be. gentlemen, who are acquainted, should lift their hats slightly upon meeting one another, but should never fail to do so should either one be walking with a lady. under such circumstances a simple nod would be a slight towards her. a recognition, by bow or smile, is not required from opposite sides of the street, or across hotel dining rooms. gentlemen riding or driving, and having both hands occupied, are not compelled to lift the hat on bowing. if saluted by an inferior, do not fail to return the courtesy in kind, remembering henry clay, who, when asked why he lifted his hat to an old colored man who had paid him the same deference, replied, "i never allow a negro to outdo me in politeness, sir." shaking hands. gentlemen, as a rule, shake hands upon being introduced to one another. the lady of a house usually shakes hands with all guests whom she receives in her house for the first time. gentlemen do not, however, offer to shake hands with the hostess, leaving it to her to put the stamp of cordiality upon the ceremony of introduction, or to simply pass it with courtesy. if a lady extends her hand to a gentleman, he does not, as of old, remove his glove, nor does he make use of the out-of-date formula, "excuse my glove." at his departure the lady bows her adieu, but does not again extend her hand. the hand-clasp is a cordial expression of good will, but there are degrees of cordiality to be observed in the performance of this ceremony. every one knows, and shudders at, the woman who gives two, or at most, three fingers of a cold and lifeless hand for a moment into your keeping, and every one recognizes and fears the man who swallows up and crushes the entire hand within his powerful grasp. each extreme is to be avoided. a lady should give her whole hand, not her fingers; a gentleman should receive it cordially, holding it neither too tightly nor too loosely, shaking it very slightly and not presuming to retain it. should a gentleman sin against any of these particulars, a lady is justified in refusing to offer her hand next time. a young lady simply gives her hand to a gentleman, neither pressing nor shaking his, unless it be in the case of especial friends. two ladies shake hands quietly. both ladies and gentlemen always rise to shake hands. elderly people, or invalids, are permitted to excuse themselves and keep their seats. ball-room introductions for dancing do not necessitate hand-shaking, a bow being all that is required. a very particular introduction, wherever given, such as one prefaced by some remark like, "i want you to know my friend so-and-so," merits a hand-shake on your part, together with some cordial remark. inferiors in social position should always wait until their superiors offer the hand, never taking the initiative in this respect. this precaution will sometimes save them the pain of a marked slight. words of salutation. verbal greetings ought always to be quiet and respectful; they should never be shouted across streets, nor called when the parties are at any distance from each other. nicknames should not be used publicly and promiscuously, in short, all possible respect should be paid to the feelings of other persons on public occasions. the phrases, "good morning," "good evening," "good afternoon," "how do you do?" "how are you?" are the usual forms employed. sometimes the name of the person addressed is added, thus: "good morning, mrs. smith." replies to these salutations are sometimes simply a bow from a lady to a gentleman, or perhaps a bow and a repetition of his greeting, as: "good morning, mr. jones." "how do you do," should be replied to by the same phrase, never, as is often the case with the novice in social arts, by: "i am very well, thank you." a special inquiry after one's health, however, as: "how do you do, mrs. jones?" followed, after her acknowledgment, by: "how are you?" or, "how is your health?" should receive the response, "i am very well, thank you." after an acquaintance has been ill, the first inquiry by a friend should be one concerning health. this is a rule that should never be neglected; to do so would be an oversight. kissing is a custom which the code of english and american etiquette relegates as much as possible to the privacy of home. a kiss, the outward expression of our closest affection and our warmest love, should never be made a public show whereat the outside world may smile. hence, the effusive kissing between girls and women at their meeting and their parting, is to be regretted as a specimen, to say the least, of very bad taste on their part. indiscriminate kissing of children and infants is also objectionable on the score of health. happily, kisses and embraces among men are never seen in this country, though, in some parts of europe they are constantly to be observed, both in public and private. [illustration] [illustration: a society ball--showing fashionable costumes.] art of conversation [illustration] "talk often," says lord chesterfield, "but never long; in that case if you do not please, at least you are sure not to tire your hearers. pay your own reckoning, but do not treat the entire company: this being one of the very few cases in which people do not care to be treated, every one being fully convinced that he has the wherewithal to pay." all other arts pale before the art of conversation as a source of popularity, and no other accomplishment tends so much toward social success. the contact of many minds is a constant stimulus to mental activity and its outward expression in animated conversation. it lends new power to brilliancy of talent, and quickens, to a certain extent, even the lowest and dullest of intellects. everyone has been surprised and delighted at times by some unexpectedly brilliant remark that has flashed from his lips during the course of some animated exchange of badinage and repartee, and there is no one but realizes how the mind acquires breadth and the opinions grow tolerant as one converses with persons of intelligence and culture. since, however, according to cicero, "silence is one of the greatest arts of conversation," there may be added, with equal wisdom, to the above counsel, "listen often and well." be not an impatient listener, nor yet an impassive one, but pay the compliment of attention and interest to the subject in hand, and your company will be sought as an acquisition. any lady, by profound attention to, and a pleased interest in the subject under consideration, may promote the conversation most skillfully and delightfully. knowledge of the subject is not always necessary. an english savant, deeply interested in egyptology, once escorted a young lady out to dinner. his conversation, as a matter of course, turned entirely upon excavations, hieroglyphics, and kindred topics. upon all these the young lady was profoundly ignorant, but, if unversed in egyptian lore, she was most thoroughly versed in conversational arts, and, by her speaking glances of intelligence and her pleased smile, so fascinated the man of science that he enthusiastically declared afterward that "miss l---- was one of the best conversationalists and the most intelligent young lady he had ever met, and that her knowledge of egyptology was something wonderful." this, to one who had sat opposite them at table, and could have vouched that the lady in question had not spoken a single word through the entire dinner, was slightly amusing. so strong however, was the impression left upon the mind of the savant by her interested attention, that it would have been difficult to convince him of the fact. the good listener. this, even if an exception, shows what attentive listening may accomplish toward social success. let it be mentioned here, however, that no one individual should be so carried away by a pet hobby as to force conversation into a monologue. a very well bred man, no matter how great his interest in or eloquence upon any topic may be, always catches at the slightest hint to close the conversation. a man will always bear in mind that the greatest compliment he can pay a woman is a respectful, deferential attention to her words. there are men whose very manner of listening conveys, in itself, the most delicate flattery. a woman, in her turn, should always remember that, however interesting her conversation may be, there is always danger that a man may possibly weary of its protracted continuance, and so she should forebear leaving him no loophole for escape. louise chandler moulton enjoins one thing on women which they would do well to recollect, and that is, "if they want a man to stay with them to make it evidently and entirely easy for him to get away. there is something lawless and rebellious in even the best of men; they hate doing things because they are obliged." suitable topics. to render conversation agreeable, suitable topics for the company present, if possible, must be chosen. neither soar above the level of their conversation, nor sink so far beneath it, as to lead them to infer that you possess a very slight opinion of their merits. in conversing, too many educated men fall into the error of talking commonplaces to all women alike, as if "small talk," to the exclusion of all weightier matters, were the only species of conversation suited to a woman's ear. on the contrary, she is more often either hurt or angered at your evident condescension, or, on the other hand, she credits you with just the amount of knowledge that you have evinced in your conversation with her. in the search after suitable topics it is well to remember that all are pleased by a display of interest in their especial affairs. thus, by leading the artist to talk of his pictures, the lady amateur of her music, the _prima donna_ of her successes, the mother of her children, the author of his book, you may rest assured that they will always speak of you as a person of great discrimination and a very interesting conversationalist. they in their turn, unless extremely devoid of tact and eminently selfish, will display sufficient regard for your feelings to give an opportunity for waxing eloquent on your part over your own pet topics. be very careful then not to fall into that besetting fault of good talkers, a monologue, which is fatal to all conversation. richard steele gave a most desirable maxim for conversation when he said: "i would establish one great rule in conversation, which is this, that men should not talk to please themselves, but those that hear them--adapting their words to the place where, the time when, and the person to whom they are spoken." misuse of quotations. do not use classical quotations before a woman unless you know that, by virtue of a classical education on her own part, she is capable of appreciating the point. remember, too, that there are a great many men who, not having enjoyed your educational advantages, are annoyed, rather than edified by your display of learning. do not make a point of exhibiting your learning aggressively anywhere. "classical quotation is the literary man's parole the world over," says dr. samuel johnson, but he savored somewhat of the pedant, and his imitators, by too frequent an indulgence in this habit, may run the risk of aping his pedantry without possessing his genius. neither is it well to interlard conversation with too frequent quotations from english authors, no matter how well they may fit the occasion. this is a habit that easily becomes tiresome. "small talk." the current change of society is the light coin of "small talk" that breaks with chink and shimmer the heavy bills of large denomination, that else would overwhelm social conversation with their size. wiseacres may meet and learnedly discourse on all manner of sage subjects, but that is discussion, debate, argument, what you will, not conversation. conversation is light, brilliant, and tossed back and forth from one to another with the grace and ease of the feathered shuttlecock. a lady of high literary attainments was seen in a gay gathering sitting quietly by herself in a corner, and, being questioned by a friend as to her silence, replied, half bitterly, "i have no 'small change,' and my bank bills are all of too large denomination for the occasion." this is a difficulty that one should strive to overcome, for, after all, it is small change, rather than bank bills, that society in general requires. given the foundation of even a moderate education, the aspirant for social success will gain more ideas from modern fiction than from any other source whatever. no historian presents the social manners and customs of his time with half the accuracy displayed by our best fiction writers. a well known society woman, familiar with its usages both at home and abroad, declares that "a course of anthony trollope is as good as a london season," and we all know that howells and james and other authors of that ilk have lifted the _portières_ of our own drawing rooms and shown us what is transpiring therein. gail hamilton says that to be "well-smattered" is next best to being deeply learned, and nowhere can a smattering of almost everything be better gained than from the modern works of fiction. a valuable source of knowledge. a friend of the writer, a talented elocutionist, and socially brilliant, once said with reference to her quiet country home and her sudden emergence therefrom to mingle in washington society, that she found herself perfectly at ease in those circles so widely different from her previous experience of life, and that "she attributed it wholly to her knowledge of social customs and the social atmosphere, as gained from the best society stories." it was in this manner that she served her social novitiate and the result bore testimony to its efficacy. where one is not quite sure of rising to the occasion it is well to be provided, before attending a social gathering, with several topics that will be suitable to bring forward in conversation. many are in the habit of doing this constantly. some new book, one that created a little sensation, some course of lectures, some late theatrical or operatic entertainment, anything, in short, that is generally popular. be careful, however, in broaching such subjects not to egotistically give your own opinion at the outset by saying decidedly, "i think that book is a perfect failure, quite absurd in fact. what is your opinion?" this course of action, if your companion is younger or more timid than yourself, will probably reduce him to the point of having no opinion whatever, or at least to being afraid to express it, and the conversation, as such, will fail completely. whereas, if you had quietly asked him if he had read the book, how he enjoyed it, etc., you would have gradually entered upon a conversation wherein you would have drawn out his ideas and at the same time have been enabled to display your own. cultivate your mind. one of the first requisites of social success is a cultivated mind. you cannot hope to hold your own in society without at least a general knowledge of the events of the last few years in historical, scientific, artistic and social fields. such knowledge is easily gained by a little study and a great deal of observation, the pains taken being more than recompensed by the ease and assurance with which one enters society. if a musician or an artist, you should be sure to know something of your chosen art aside from the mere technicalities. be well versed in the various schools of painting, the varied merits of the musical masters of the past and present. be filled with the spirit as well as the technique of your profession and you cannot fail to converse pleasantly upon these subjects. always remember, however, not to advance your opinions to the utter exclusion of every one else, or your companionship will become tiresome to the best of listeners. "drawing out others." the very essence of the art of conversation is to draw others out and cause them to shine; to be more anxious, apparently, to discover other people's opinions than to advance your own. who does not remember gratefully and admiringly the sympathetic people who seem to draw out the very best there is in us--in whose company we appear almost brilliant, and actually surprise ourselves by the fluency and point of our remarks? such people are a boon to society. no one sits dull and silent in their presence, or says unpleasant, sarcastic things before them, and, while never seeming to advance any views of their own, and certainly never forcing them upon our attention, we involuntarily learn of them and love them, scarcely knowing why. malebranche showed his knowledge of human nature when he wrote: "he who has imparted to others his knowledge without any one perceiving it and without drawing from it any advantage, necessarily gains all hearts by his virtuous liberality. those who would be loved, and who have much wit, should thus impart it to others." the passion for argument. never permit yourself to be drawn into an argument in general society. nothing can be more provocative of anger on one side or another, or more destructive to conversation, than a lengthy and, too often, bitter argument. good breeding would suggest that the subject be changed at once before the controversy becomes heated. especially should any debate upon politics or religion be avoided as subjects upon which two seldom agree, but which are so close to the hearts of the majority as to cause serious annoyance if their pet beliefs are touched upon or questioned. be careful, also, not to take the opposite side of _every_ question that is brought up in conversation. wit and humor. sidney smith once said: "man could direct his ways by plain reason and support his life on tasteless food, but god has given us wit and flavor, and laughter and perfumes, to enliven the days of man's pilgrimage, and to charm his pained footsteps over the burning marl." and sidney smith was so much the life and soul of every social gathering that, while the english language is spoken, his witty remarks will be quoted with delight. wit, however, is too often but another name for sarcasm and ridicule, that, like a barbed arrow, rankles long in the soul of its victim. true humor, it should be remembered, is neither scathing nor insolent; it is simply that bright repartee that someone aptly calls the "spice of conversation." hence it would be well to smother the temptation to be witty at the expense of another, and crush back the brilliant but cutting retort meant only to wound, not to amuse. evil speaking. beware of evil speaking. in the eyes of all right-minded persons much that you have said recoils upon your own head, for no one has quite the same opinion of an individual after having listened to a series of scandalous stories from his lips. hence, for your own sake, as well as for that of others, eschew the vice of evil speaking as a very pestilence. let young ladies have a care how they speak lightly or contemptuously of one another at any time, but more especially when conversing with men. nothing, as a rule, is more prejudicial to a woman, in the estimation of a man, than this all-too-prevalent habit. no matter what the faults of your sister-woman may be, condone them gently, or, if this be impossible, let a silence that is golden fall about the subject. unhesitatingly acknowledge a woman's beauty or talent, and, instead of detracting from your own merits, it will enhance them in the eyes of all. a young man was once heard by the writer counselling his sister from the depths of his own experience as a social favorite. "never," said he, "say one word against a girl to any young man. it only puts you down in their estimation. say something pretty and complimentary about them if you can; if not, keep still." and his advice was words fitly spoken, that are, indeed, "like apples of gold in pictures of silver." "telling stories." stories should never be introduced into general conversation unless they meet several requirements. in the first place, they should be short and well told. secondly, they should be new to the company where they are told. nothing is more tiresome than listening to a twice-told tale, though the height of good breeding is to smile over its tediousness. one way to avoid inflicting this martyrdom is to ask beforehand if any one present has heard such and such a story. then, in the third place, it must be straight to the point, and directly called for as an illustration of the case in hand. [illustration: "society is quick to trace the magic of a pleasing face."] do not tell more than two or three stories or anecdotes in the same evening. never be guilty of relating in company a narrative that is in the least questionable in its import. this is utterly inexcusable, and, to so sin, is to render one's self unfit for social companionship. avoid repetition. if some portion of an anecdote has met with applause, do not repeat it. its unexpectedness was its only charm. absent-mindedness. this is a sin against good manners which cannot be too greatly condemned, being, as it is, in some measure an insult to the company in which you find yourself. no one cares to be of so little importance as to find the person addressed totally oblivious of his presence or remarks, and no one can blame him if, as chesterfield suggests, "finding you absent in mind, you should speedily find them absent in body." profuse compliments. to be endurable, compliments should be made use of in a very cautious and artful manner. if permitted to degenerate into gross flattery they are far from complimentary to the understanding of the individual addressed. the day, happily, is long since past when conversation between men and women was confined to unmixed flattery on the one side and blushing acceptance on the other. that "the best flattery is that which comes at second hand," no one can deny, yet, judicious praise is not only acceptable but useful many times in giving the needed incentive, without which the flagging footsteps might have faltered on their way. contradictions and interjections. never be guilty of abrupt contradictions. if you differ decidedly from some given opinion, soften the expression of your difference by such modifications as, "i hardly think so," or, "my idea is rather different," or, "i beg to differ." this is much more polite and less likely to arouse antagonistic feelings. in conversation never allow yourself to fall into the habit of using constantly such phrases as "you don't say!" "do tell!" "did you ever?" "is that so?" and many others that will come to mind as you recall your own faults in this respect, and the faults of your friends. an equal avoidance should be cultivated of such interjections as "say," "well," etc., with which we often begin our sentences. these habits are all to be condemned and should be corrected as speedily as possible. voice and manner. let your voice be low and pleasantly modulated and your enunciation clear, distinct and musical. all these things are marks of good breeding, and, if not yours by birthright, may be acquired by patience and perseverance. avoid high tones and nasal tones. do not talk rapidly, or in a hesitating, stumbling fashion. a partial course in elocution and voice training will work wonders in this direction, and any one determined to succeed will never regret the time or money so spent. cultivate also, if shy and timid by nature, self esteem sufficient to imagine that you are quite the equal of those with whom you are about to meet. this resolution will enable you to say what you wish without fear of mistake, and without showing too much respect of persons. the above-mentioned elocutionary lessons will also be an aid toward acquiring self-possession. repose of manner should be assiduously cultivated. do not fidget or loll about in your chair, or twist your fingers constantly, or play with something while you talk, or restlessly beat a tattoo with fingers or feet. all such faults render your companionship a burden to those about you. indulge in no facial contortions, as they rapidly become habits difficult to break and usually leave their traces on the face in lines impossible to efface. lifting the eyebrows, rolling the eyes, opening them very widely, twisting the mouth and opening it so as to show the tongue in talking, are all disagreeable habits, that, once acquired, can only be broken by ceaseless vigilance. practice talking without moving the facial muscles but slightly. do this before your mirror daily, if necessary, and before the same faithful mentor learn to open the eyes less widely, parting the lids only just so far as to show the colored iris without a glimpse of the white portion, or cornea, of the eye above or below it. the time thus spent will result in a change most gratifying to yourself and friends. conversational sins. never interrupt a person who is talking. never take the words out of anyone's mouth and finish the sentence for them. to do this is ill-bred and does not bespeak your superior discernment, but your ignorance of polite society. puns, unless exceptionally witty, are to be carefully avoided. young ladies, especially, should beware of establishing any reputation for punning. at all events, puns should never be far-fetched. do not whisper in company; nothing can be more vulgar. neither should two in a gathering converse together in a foreign language, not understood by the others present, or talk blindly in a manner unintelligible only to themselves. should, however, a distinguished foreigner to whom the language is almost unknown be among the guests, it is a mark of courtesy for as many as possible to converse in his native tongue. do not immediately break off the conversation upon persons entering the room. it is too apt to leave the impression upon their minds that the discourse was of them. in carrying on a conversation after newcomers enter the room, briefly recapitulate what has gone before, that the thread of the story may be complete for them. look at those with whom you are talking, but never stare. profanity is the last and most inexcusable sin committed against good manners and propriety. the man who will deliberately use profane language in the drawing-room, or before women and children, or aged men, should be considered without the pale of good society. language coarse in its tendency is open to the same criticism, and remarks and stories that carry a double meaning cannot be too severely condemned. if it is at any time possible for a woman to receive such a story in its innocent sense, let her do it, showing by some remark the light in which it is taken; otherwise, she should be apparently blind and ignorant as to its meaning. avoid affectations. in conversation make use of long words as little as possible, and wherever a short and easily understood one is suitable to express your meaning, choose it in preference to one of polysyllabic proportions. use of the lips and facial expressions. do not cover the lips with the hand, or a fan, while speaking. to do so shows nervousness and a lack of social training. besides this, much of the expression of the face lies in the mouth. this is shown by all actors, readers and public speakers, who, as a rule, appear before their audiences with closely-shaven faces, that no portion of the varying changes of the lips may be lost. never, if you are a man, speak lightly of women. nothing so surely lowers your own standard in the eyes of all sensible people. never hurt the feelings of others. never allude publicly to times when you have known them in less affluent circumstances than the present. be very careful to guard against over much laughing. nothing gives a sillier appearance than spasms of laughter upon the slightest provocation. it soon grows into a very disagreeable habit. smile frequently, if need be, but be moderate in laughter. a very little reasoning will serve to do this; and the reflection that few grown people laugh well will aid still farther in curbing the propensity. let your greeting of acquaintances be free from boisterousness and familiarity. do not bring your hand down heavily upon their shoulder, nor emphasize your sentences with pushes and punches of an active elbow, nor fling your arms about their necks or shoulders. to some fastidious persons these boorish acts are a positive insult. an affectation of boisterous familiarity more often betrays a feeling of social inferiority than absolute shyness or timidity does. never permit yourself to correct other people in matter or manner, unless it should be absolutely necessary to protect some one else. under all ordinary circumstances do not betray a confidential communication made you by a friend. set the seal of the confessional upon it. if it should be sorrowful in its nature, do not mention it even to the friend who has confided it to your keeping unless he or she should first refer to it. it may have been confessed in a moment of confidence and regretted almost as soon as spoken, hence, do not revive the memory yourself. control your temper. keep your temper under all circumstance while in company. even if some remark has been made with plain intent to injure your feelings, an absolute ignoring of the intended sting will prevent others, and, most of all, the guilty party, from perceiving the depth of the wound. a true gentleman, or lady, is never quick to take offense. never ask impertinent or personal questions, unless these latter are called for by the nature of the conversation. be careful not to give advice unless it is sought, and remember then that it is a commodity of which a very little goes a long way. and last, but not least, utterly eschew all slang. there are some young ladies who apparently think that a little slang, to spice their remarks, is piquant and saucy, but, in the majority of cases they so soon overstep the mark and fall into the deplorable habit of constantly and copiously interlarding their speech with all manner of slang phrases, that one is forced to advocate total abstinence as the only safeguard. the too common habit of exaggeration, on the part of so many schoolgirls and young ladies is also to be deplored, a quiet unobtrusiveness of speech always marking the true lady. do not, in speaking, too frequently mention your hearer by name. to do so implies either great familiarity on your part, or social inferiority on theirs. in this latter case it savors strongly of patronage. in speaking to people always give them their proper titles, as: "colonel," "doctor jones," "professor gray." never make a practice of saying: "that is so, colonel," but, "that is so, colonel sharp." in mentioning a married daughter, unless to a very intimate friend, give her married title, as: "mrs. miller," or, "my daughter, mrs. miller." in speaking of unmarried daughters, or of sons (unless to servants), give them their christian name, as hattie or george, or else mention them, and this is better before strangers, as: "my daughter," or, "my son." misuse of initials. never address persons by their initials, as: "mrs. w.," "miss c.," "mr. d.;" give them instead their full name. neither should you call young ladies, "miss mollie," or "miss jennie;" "miss smith," or, "miss brown," being in much better taste. their christian names should only be used to distinguish them from other sisters. never address people by their christian names unless very familiarly acquainted. this practice savors of ill-breeding and is often very annoying to the person so addressed. in speaking of persons who are absent, mention them by their last name, as: "mrs. roe," "mr. doe," unless the intimacy is very great; even then care should be taken not to use their christian names too freely among persons to whom they may be strangers. a wife in speaking of her husband should rather say "mr. smith," than "my husband;" but, above all, let her refrain from referring to her liege lord as "he," as if the whole wide world possessed no other mortal to whom that pronoun was applicable. husbands should follow the same rules in referring to their wives. be careful not to interlard conversation with "sir," or "ma'am." in europe these terms are relegated to the use of the lower classes. visiting cards. [illustration] cards are the sign manual of society. their use and development belongs only to a high order of civilization. they accompany us, as one writer has justly remarked, all the way from the cradle to the grave. they begin with engraved announcements of the birth of a child, then cards for its christening, and, later on, dainty little cards of invitation for children's parties, until, in due time, the girl crosses that line "where the brook and river meet womanhood and childhood sweet," sets up a card of her own, and blossoms forth into a young lady. they announce the gaieties, the pleasures, the anniversaries of life: they inquire for us during our illness and sorrow, they return thanks for our gifts and attentions, and, finally, they commemorate to our friends the last, sad earthly scene and ring the curtain down. the stress laid by society upon the correct usage of these magic bits of pasteboard will not seem unnecessary when it is remembered that the visiting card, socially defined, means, and is frequently made to take the place of, one's self. it will be seen, therefore, that one of the first requisites for social success is to understand the language, so to speak, of the visiting card. with this end in view the following suggestions on the subject have been carefully arranged with due regard to brevity, accuracy and ease of reference. style of the card. the card should be perfectly plain, fine in texture, thin, white, unglazed and engraved in simple script without flourishes. gilt edges, rounded or clipped corners, tinted surfaces or any oddity of lettering, such as german or old english text, are to be avoided. a photograph or any ornamentation whatever upon a card savors of ill-breeding or rusticity. have the script engraved always, never printed. the engraved autograph is no longer considered in good taste, neither are written cards as elegant as those that are engraved. size of the card. the regulation size, both in this country and england, for a lady's visiting card is three and one-half inches in length and two and one-half inches in width. this oblong form is most generally used, but there is an almost square shape, two and a half inches by three, also in favor, and especially used by unmarried ladies where the shortness of their name would be too much emphasized in the longer card. for instance: "miss ray" would be quite justified in choosing the square style, while "miss ethelinda crane" or "mrs. algernon spencer" would find the length of their names displayed to better advantage on the oblong card. [illustration: _mrs. j. howard ellis_] cards for gentlemen are much smaller than those for ladies. this holds good in both england and america, where the required size is three inches one way by one inch and a half the other. [illustration: _william l. smith_] the largest card in use is the one sometimes adopted by the newly-married and engraved with their joint names. thus: mr. and mrs. grant trowbridge may make use of a card four inches long by three and one-half in width, but a lady and her daughter, where their names appear together, should use the first-mentioned oblong size for ladies. engraving the name. married ladies make a point of using their husband's name or initials upon their cards instead of their own, as: mrs. george b. cleveland, or: mrs. g.b. cleveland, instead of: mrs. grace e. cleveland. it occasionally, however, happens that some lady, unwilling to so lose the identity of her own name, prefers this latter form. or, if her family name be an old and honored one, she frequently retains it, thus: mrs. grace ethridge cleveland. but, though the married woman make use of her husband's name, she has no claim to his titles; so that while others may address her as "mrs. judge so and so," "mrs. dr. so and so," she must carefully avoid all such display. let her be comforted, however, as her just pride in her husband's honors is easily gratified, since she is expected, on all formal occasions, to leave one of his cards, wherein his titles are set forth, with her own. occasionally a lady contents herself with having engraved upon her cards a simple: mrs. courthope. this, however, is unwise unless the name is a very uncommon one, and even then, should there be more than one branch of the family in the vicinity, the wife of the oldest member of the family only would have a right to make use of it. newly married couples frequently send out for their first cards the largest size mentioned engraved thus: mr. and mrs. holman b. hunt. occasionally they preserve this custom throughout the entire first season. but this is all; from thenceforth husband and wife have their own separate cards. they may, however, be used at times throughout the married life to convey messages of sympathy, congratulation, or to accompany gifts. widows have always hesitated about exchanging the beloved and accustomed name upon their cards for their own signature. this, however, in many cases, is a necessity, especially where there is a son bearing the father's name. this is sometimes thought to be avoided by the use of the distinctive "senior" or "junior," a custom obviously wrong, since after the death of francis brown, senior, francis brown, junior, becomes at once francis brown, and his wife, mrs. francis brown. hence, while we have no such convenient title as "dowager," the widowed mrs. francis brown will be obliged to drop her husband's name in favor of her son's wife and thenceforth appear before the world as mrs. mary e. brown. where there are no children, or immediate relatives, change of title on the part of the widow is a mere matter of sentiment. the black border upon a widow's cards should never be over a quarter of an inch in depth: more than this savors of ostentation rather than affliction. young ladies, especially if it is their first season in society, will find it the best form to have their names engraved upon the visiting card of their mother. thus, if it is the eldest daughter: mrs. wilfrid ferguson. miss ferguson. if a younger daughter: mrs. wilfrid furguson. miss ethel furguson. and if it should chance that two daughters "come out" in consecutive seasons both of their names are frequently engraved upon their mother's card, thus: mrs. wilfrid furguson. miss furguson. miss ethel furguson. though it often happens that, for convenience sake, by the time the second rosebud is "out," the first has established a cardcase of her own. yet as neither custom nor etiquette sanctions young girls in having cards of their own, a mother often continues to have the name of her young daughters engraved upon her own card. young ladies should always prefix "miss" to their names, as: miss alice creighton wright, there being a certain forwardness about announcing one's self as: alice creighton wright. especially is this so among strangers, the prefix "miss" carrying with it a certain quiet reserve and dignity. the eldest daughter of a family announces herself upon her cards as "miss wright," unless there are several of the same name in town, while the others are respectively "miss alice creighton wright" and "miss ethel may wright." occasionally a card is used for sisters engraved as follows: misses wright. all pet names are to be avoided upon visiting cards and "nettie cranston" very properly becomes "miss annette cranston" upon her cards. neither are initials good form for young ladies, though after an unmarried lady has reached a certain, or rather an "uncertain," age, she may, if she choose, be permitted to place upon her visiting cards: miss a.c. wright. if the young lady be motherless she often has her name engraved beneath that of her father, using not the smaller card of a gentleman but the first given oblong card for ladies. in england unmarried ladies, unless they have reached a very "uncertain" age indeed, follow the above fashion, and quite young ladies leave their chaperon's card as well. this fashion is often followed here, and when so done signifies that they will be inseparable for the season. address on cards. there is much question as to whether the address should be engraved on a lady's card, some very exclusive circles prohibiting it entirely on a young lady's card and questioning its use for a married lady, suggesting that in case a young lady desires to give her address to any particular individual it may be easily pencilled on one of her cards for the occasion, and that married ladies have the privilege of leaving one of their husband's, with engraved address, in connection with their own. this custom, while it may seem an over-nicety to those outside the great centers of metropolitan life, will be appreciated by all those to whom the "ins and outs" of city life are familiar. it should be said that while engraving the address is still a mooted question, except for young ladies, each individual is at liberty to use her own judgment on the question. cards for gentlemen. the size and style of a gentleman's card has been already given, but a few words as to name and titles will be necessary here. custom, with reference to the cards that a man must carry, is considerably less arbitrary than towards women in the same respect. he may use his initials or his full name, as it pleases him. he may inscribe himself "mr. john smith," or simply "john smith," and be quite correct in so doing, though just now there is a little inclination in favor of the more formal "mr.," an english custom we do well in copying. military, not militia, naval and judicial titles, may always be used. physicians and clergymen have the same privilege; honorary titles, however, should be avoided. a private gentleman would have his card as: mr. howard mason, union square. if he were a club man, the club name, providing it were a very fashionable one, would take the place of the address, as: mr. howard mason, union league club. for a military card: captain arthur coleman, u.s.a. for a naval card: admiral porter, u.s.n. a medical man might use the following: george h. harrison, m.d. some eminent men go to extreme simplicity, as, for instance, "mr. webster" being all that graced the cards of that celebrity. it is hardly necessary to say that a business card should never be used as a visiting card. a gentleman carries his cards either in his pocket or in a small leather case sold for that purpose. cards for receptions. cards used for receptions, lawn-tennis parties, afternoon teas, etc., in place of more formal invitations, have been fully described under "invitations." one example will suffice here: mrs. lawrence barrett, july st, at . p.m. the object of the entertainment being written in the corner of the engraved card. cards for receptions are a necessary convenience in this era of lengthy visiting lists. without them there would be no possibility of leisure or of seeing one's friends at their own homes. the following is an example: mrs. emmons b. churchill, thursdays. or: thursdays, three o'clock to five, may be substituted; the latter form, however, usually meaning that a simple afternoon tea will be served on the day mentioned. a young lady never sends out a reception card in her own name alone, but her name is engraved upon her mother's card or that of her chaperon, thus: mrs. harold gray; miss gray, wednesdays, four o'clock to seven. or, in case of a chaperon: mrs. george m. jansen; miss alice levictoire, wednesdays, three o'clock to five. foreign phrases. there are a certain number of french phrases that custom has declared shall take the place of that "pure english undefiled" whereof spenser wrote. in a few cases these chance to be shorter, more euphonious, and more directly to the point than the corresponding english phrase. for instance, the word "chaperon," so important in its signification at the present, has no adequate english translation. below is given an alphabetical list of those phrases in most frequent use, together with the abbreviations that ofttimes serve in place of the full phrase: french phrases. abbreviations. translations. _bal masque_ a masquerade ball. _chaperon_ an older woman attending a girl in society. _costume de rigueur_ costume to be full dress. _début_ first appearance. _débutante_ a young girl making her first social appearance. _en ville_ e.v. in town or city. _fête champêtre_ a rural or outdoor entertainment. _matinée_ a morning or daylight entertainment. _matinée musicale_ a daylight musical entertainment. _musicale_ musical entertainment. _pour dire adieu_ p.d.a. to say farewell. _pour prendre congé_ p.p.c. to take leave. _protégé_ one under protection. _repondez s'il vous plait_ r.s.v.p. reply if you please. _soirée_ an evening party. _soirée dansante_ a dancing party. _soirée musicale_ a musical entertainment. the term _en ville_, when used in the place of "city," in addressing a note that is to pass through the postman's hands, is a needless and annoying affectation, since it is hardly to be expected that a knowledge of the french language forms one of the qualifications for a letter-carrier's position, and if delay ensues in delivery, the writer, not the carrier, is to blame. p.p.c. cards. in the event of leaving town for a long absence, p.p.c. cards are frequently sent out. this is especially convenient where the length of one's visiting list renders the personal making of farewell calls an impossibility. the cards are sent out upon the eve of departure, and all persons receiving them are expected, upon the arrival of the absentee, to return the courtesy by cards (which may also be sent by mail) and by invitations. the ordinary engraved visiting card is used, and the initials p.p.c. (an abbreviation of the french phrase "to take leave") are written in capitals in the lower left hand corner of the card. p.d.a. (to say farewell) is occasionally used, but is not in general favor. if the address should happen to be engraved in the lower left hand corner, p.p.c. may be written in the lower right hand corner, either way being permissible at any time. the large card inscribed jointly with the name of husband and wife is frequently used in this connection. p.p.c. cards are especially appropriate where there are no calls due. if possible, unpaid personal calls should be answered in person on the eve of departure. turning down the corners. this custom is almost out of date, and in consequence of the various interpretations liable to be given to the act, its disuse is a satisfaction to all parties concerned. to briefly explain the custom, a card turned down at the corner, or across one end, signifies that the call was made in person, and is sometimes very convenient when one wishes it distinctly understood that the card was brought in person, not sent; while one folded through the center denotes that the call includes all members of the family. a man should not turn down the corners of his cards. minor interpretations, such as which end or which corner is to be turned down on different occasions, even the surviving adherents of the custom do not pretend to agree upon. how to leave cards. in leaving cards follow the fashion of those who have paid you the same courtesy. if a call has been made upon you, return it by a call, as to return a personal visit by the sending of a bit of pasteboard would partake of the nature of a slight. if cards only have been sent you by a servant, return cards in the same manner by messenger or servant; if they were sent by mail, return by mail. if the cards of any of the gentlemen of a house are left, always leave the cards of any gentleman of your family in return. of course first calls should be made and returned in person, the card-leaving formalities coming later on. this rule is departed from only by a few ladies whom age, health, social or literary duties will excuse from making personal calls. these frequently permit themselves to send out cards in place of a first call, either accompanying them with, or immediately following them by an invitation to some entertainment. this attention should receive the same notice as a first call; cards should be sent in return, together with an answer to the invitation, if it is of a nature to require it, and a personal call must be made thereafter, unless it was simply an afternoon tea, and an invitation sent in return speedily as possible. a lady leaves a card for a lady only, a gentleman leaves cards for the host and hostess of a house. some authorities assert that a man making the first call of ceremony should, in addition to the first-mentioned cards, if none of the family are at home, leave another folded down through the center for the other members of the family. the folding, however, is questionable taste and the requisite number of cards would be better left in their original state. cards should be left for the daughters of a house; if there are sons, a lady may leave one of her husband's for them also. number of cards to be left. after this first visit of ceremony it is only necessary to leave one card at any following call throughout the season. as a rule in country towns but one card is left at any call, unless it is at the first calls of a bride, when, if her husband's name is not engraved upon her card, she leaves one of his with her own. a gentleman and lady calling together and finding the mistress of the house, only, at home, would leave but one card, that of the gentleman for the master of the house. finding no one at home, they would leave three cards, one of hers and two of his. a lady calling under the same circumstances would leave one of her own cards and two of her husband's. when one lady calls upon another, if the hostess be at home she does not send in her card (unless she is an entire stranger), nor does etiquette strictly enjoin her to leave it in the hall, unless it is upon her hostess' reception day, when, on account of the large number of visitors, it would be difficult to remember all. it then becomes a very desirable custom for a lady to leave a card, together with two of her husband's. also when the servant is somewhat dull of comprehension as to the name it will be well to send in a card to prevent mistakes. on reception days in very fashionable houses it is the custom to announce the guests by name as they enter the room, so that cards need not be sent in. never hand your own card to your hostess. if it be necessary, introduce yourself verbally, doing so quickly and clearly, and being sure to mention yourself, if a young lady, as "miss." busy, elderly, and even young men are very prone to leaving their cards in the hands of mother, sister, wife, or any other lady of the house for distribution, though after an elaborate entertainment it is much more indicative of good breeding that a young man should pay his respects in person to his hostess. calls upon young ladies. young men in this country leave cards for the young ladies of a house, but they should always leave one at the same time for her mother or chaperon. in europe they are never permitted to leave a card for a young lady at all. they call upon the mother or chaperon, and while they may offer to send for the young lady, she is never asked after. if a gentleman, in calling where there are several young ladies, especially wishes to see one of the number, he may ask for her, but, before the call is over, should say he would be pleased to see the other ladies; more especially is there no excuse for ignoring the existence of the mother or chaperon of the young girl. if a gentleman knows the ladies of the house well, it is not necessary for him to send in a card if they are at home, unless it be the first call of the season, when it is well to leave one in the hall. in a household consisting of two or more ladies not closely related a card should be left for each one. when ladies are visiting in a house where the caller, whether man or woman, is unacquainted, he or she always leaves a card for the lady of the house and requests to see her: a request which she may not grant, but one which it would be a marked slight to omit. in leaving a card for a friend visiting at a private house, never write her name upon it; depend upon the servant, or whoever opens the door, to remember for whom it is intended. this is only permissible when your friend is at a hotel. in doing this write the name above yours. when a newly-married man sends cards immediately after his marriage to his bachelor friends it may be expected that he wishes to retain them as such in his new life. upon the reception of these cards they are expected to call upon the bride at once. how to send cards. cards sent by messenger are enclosed in a single unsealed envelope; sent by mail this envelope is enclosed within another and larger one which is sealed. cards handed in at the door are received by the servant on a salver to prevent being soiled by handling. when to leave cards. first calls of the season necessitate the leaving of cards. let them be left quietly in the hall. this custom assists the lady of the house in revising her visiting list. letters of introduction necessitate that those who have received courtesies in response to such, should, upon their departure, send p.p.c. cards to those that have thus remembered them. a change of residence renders it desirable to send cards by mail to one's friends with the new address engraved thereon. however, should there be unpaid calls, the cards to these should be left in person. the return from an absence, including any length of time, should be announced by sending out cards having the address and reception day engraved upon them. where p.p.c. cards have been issued previous to departure these should always follow the return. preceding a début. previous to the date decided upon for the presentation of a _débutante_ to the social world, the young girl's mother calls upon those of her friends whom she desires to be present upon the occasion and leaves them her own and her husband's cards, and, if she have grown sons, their cards also. reception invitations to a full dress reception are preceded by a call by card upon all the acquaintances to whom the hostess may be indebted. after cards is the name applied to those that are sent to friends after a marriage and are engraved thus: mr. and mrs. charles e. smith. later on, however, when the bride returns visits, she usually leaves her own card with her married name engraved upon it, thus: mrs. charles e. smith. at the same time leaving her husband's separate card with her own. before marriage, the bride expectant in paying her farewell calls, leaves her own separate card, together with that of her mother or chaperon, with all acquaintances she may wish to retain in her new life. entertainments and calls. after entertainments, a card, in large cities, is sufficient, unless it be after a dinner or a wedding reception, when a personal call is made. if the wedding invitations have been to the church only, not including the gathering at the house, some most exclusive people send cards to the bride's parents, afterwards inviting the young people to their entertainments. but a dinner absolutely requires a personal call. even gentlemen, usually so remiss in such matters, are rather expected to leave a card in person after a dinner. any invitation, however, coming from a new acquaintance, necessitates a personal call, unless the intercourse is not to be kept up. in towns and smaller cities, a personal call is made after entertainments of any size. after a tea a visit is paid and thus the visiting etiquette for a year is established. before the season is over, however, the lady, if she expects to retain her position in society for the next season, must give a tea, or a series of teas, inviting all who have similarly honored her. this must be done before the season closes. where the tea is not attended, cards should be sent to the house the same day. special receptions, such as those dress affairs given once or twice in a season, require a personal card. general receptions, or "at homes," given in a series, the dates of which are all mentioned on one card, need neither cards nor calls in return. your presence there is a call in itself. a card may be left in the hall upon the day of reception to assist the memory of the hostess. other hints. ladies in a strange city, staying either with friends or at a hotel, are privileged to send cards, giving their address, to any acquaintances, either lady or gentleman, from whom they may wish to receive a call. if desirable, they may send a note in preference, giving date or hour when they will be at home. special pursuits. ladies having special pursuits, literary, or professional, often permit this fact to cover remission in social demands, in fact do not "visit" at all. for a son, upon his introduction to society here in america, there is very little display made. his _entrée_ is usually very gradual, but if he has been closely kept at school his freedom from this is often announced by his mother leaving his card with her own when she makes her visits at the beginning of the season. this is taken as a suggestion that, in future, his name is to be included among the invited members of the family. cards for an unmarried gentleman should never be left by a lady, except in the case of his having given an entertainment at which ladies were present. in this case the lady of the house should drive to his door with her own cards and those of her family. names of the young ladies should be engraved for the occasion upon the card of their mother or chaperon. the cards should be sent in by a servant. if a call is made upon a lady's regular reception day, it is rude to leave a card only, without entering and inquiring for the hostess. the time spent inside the house may be very brief, but even a few moments will satisfy the demands of etiquette, which without these would be rudely violated. cards may be made to accomplish so much of the multifarious duties of society that one can scarcely imagine the social world revolving safely upon its axis without their intervention. far be it from any to look upon the custom as a hollow mockery, for, without the system of formal visiting, or calling, society as it now stands could not exist. such, too, are the complexities of modern existence that life would be all too short for the fulfillment of its demands were it not for these useful bits of pasteboard that do so much of our work by proxy and dispose of our undesirable acquaintances so speedily by the simple cessation, on our part, of leaving cards at their door. various cards. among the cards as yet not referred to in this department may be mentioned the following: cards of congratulation, such as those sent the parents of a newly-betrothed couple upon the announcement of the betrothal; those sent the happy parents of a lately arrived son or daughter, etc. cards of this description should be left in person, though it is not expected that you should enter and make a formal visit. the leaving in person, however, is a compliment. cards of betrothal are distributed by the parents of the newly-engaged pair, leaving their cards with their own on all friends of the family. individuals receiving these cards should call as soon as possible. cards of courtesy are sent on many occasions. for instance, to a house where the children or youth of their family have been invited without including the elders. this is done in acknowledgment of the courtesy extended to their children. again, a gift however simple, even flowers, should always be accompanied by a card of courtesy. the simple visiting card is usually sufficient, though a "merry christmas," "happy new year," or "many happy returns of the day," may be penciled beneath the name. if there are many words to be written, however, a little note of courtesy is far better. (see notes.) the recipient of the gift should answer by a note of thanks, never by a card simply. cards should also accompany, or be attached to, flowers sent to a funeral, that the family may know friends remembered them in their sorrow. cards of inquiry are frequently sent, or better still, left in person, at the homes of friends prostrated by severe illness, or by recent bereavement. these usually have the words, "to inquire," or "with kind inquiries," pencilled above the name. these are many times a source of relief during the weary days of convalescence, or the heavy hours of seclusion after affliction, when the voices of friends would be too hard to bear, but the thought of their loving remembrance yields a healing balm. in cases of bereavement the cards should be sent about one week after the sad occasion that called them forth. acknowledgment of inquiry cards. cards of thanks are usually sent out in reply to these cards of inquiry, since the answering in any other fashion would prove too great a task. the regular visiting card may be used in this case, pencilling the words "with thanks for kind inquiries," or, "with thanks for the kind inquiries of mrs. ----," beneath the engraved name; or cards especially engraved for the occasion may be substituted, thus: "mrs. ---- presents her sincerest thanks for recent kind inquiries." these may be sent by mail, but really should be carried by special messenger. enclose in two envelopes. there is another method of acknowledging attentions during a period of bereavement, viz., the notice in the daily papers. this, however, does not usually meet with favor in large cities, but the example set by mr. and mrs. secretary blaine upon the death of their son, is, from its heartfelt pathos, worthy of imitation. the card appeared in all the washington papers as follows: "the sympathy of friends has been so generously extended to mr. and mrs. blaine in the great grief which has befallen their household that they are unable to make personal response to each. they beg, therefore, that this public recognition be accepted as the grateful acknowledgment of a kindness that has been most helpful through the days of an irreparable loss." birth cards are frequently sent to all friends, at home and abroad, as soon as the child is named. one very pretty style now in mind read as follows: ethel may toucey, half-past twelve o'clock, january , . this was enclosed in two small envelopes and sent by mail. these are more especially useful for sending to friends at a distance. christening and funeral cards are considered in their respective departments. families in deep mourning are not expected to send out return cards under the first year. some prefer, however, to send cards of thanks very soon to those who have inquired, leaving ordinary visiting cards unanswered the usual length of time. [illustration] visiting customs [illustration] the customs of society in regard to visiting or "calling," and the rules that govern these customs, are well worthy of our attention and care, since they in a great measure underlie and uphold the structure of our social life. no one, therefore, need consider these details trivial or of little account, since, according to lord chesterfield, "great talents are above the appreciation of the generality of the world, but all people are judges of civility, grace of manner, and an agreeable address, because they feel the good effects of them as making society easy and pleasing." length of visits. ceremonious visits should always be short, fifteen to twenty minutes being the outside limit, and a shorter time often sufficing. even should the conversation become very animated, do not prolong your stay beyond this period. it is far better that your friends should regret your withdrawal than long for your absence. a lull in the conversation, a rising from her seat, or some pretext on the part of the hostess, or the arrival of a guest, all give an opportunity for leave-taking which should be made use of at once. the art of leaving. cultivate the art of leaving; nothing will contribute more to your social success. it is said of so brilliant a woman as madame de staël that she failed lamentably in this particular, and, on the occasion of her visit to weimar, made with the avowed intention of intellectually captivating the literary lions of the age, goethe and schiller, she made one fatal mistake, she stayed too long! goethe wrote to schiller: "madame de staël is a bright, entertaining person, but she ought to know when it is time to go!" it is also evident from her own statement that she did not know _how_ to go. she lingered after she had started, and if this were an unpardonable sin on the part of so marvelous a woman, it is surely a capital crime on the part of ordinary mortals. the art of leaving is more thoroughly understood by men than by women. the necessities of business life teach the value of time, and the press and hurry of city circles teach them the art of leaving quickly, so that a social call on the part of a business man is a model of good manners. when he has "had his say" and politely listened to yours, he takes his hat, says "good day," and is gone from your presence without giving opportunity for those tedious commonplaces of mutual invitations and promises to come again which seem a social formula with so many women. when ready to leave, go at once. never say, "i must go," but, when you have finished your visit and rise to depart, go! never permit yourself to be drawn into touching upon any subject at this critical moment that will necessitate lengthy discourse for yourself and hostess, or force upon you the awkward alternative of reseating yourself to finish the conversation. there is always a certain awkwardness in thus repeating the ceremony of leave-taking which may be avoided by a quick and graceful departure that leaves both host and guest with feelings of the utmost amiability toward one another. on the other side it is necessary that the host and hostess supplement this laudable endeavor on the part of their guests in order that the departure may be gracefully accomplished. never detain the visitor, who is attempting to leave, by protests, by inquiries, or by the introduction of new subjects. one writer very pertinently says: "the art of leaving on the part of the guest needs to be supplemented by the art of letting go on the part of the host." first calls. there is, possibly, more difference of opinion on the subject of _who_ shall make the first visit or call and _when_ it shall be made, than almost any other point of etiquette. at the same time more importance is attached to it than to almost any other social question, and it touches more uniformly every phase of city or country life than any other canon of courtesy. neither neighborliness, nor good-samaritan feeling, can exist without the civility of a call, and, when there is too great a hesitancy on the part of a resident to call upon the newcomer, one is reminded either of the priest or the levite as they "passed by upon the other side," or is forced to recall the parvenue's dread of losing a footing in social circles. common sense and kindliness of heart are always to be relied upon in matters of this nature, and the initiative may safely be taken by those who have social position, age, or length of residence on their side. of course in large cities the immense demands of social life give a certain immunity from anything like promiscuous calling to those whose circle of acquaintance has already grown beyond the limits of their time. in towns and villages, however, no such immunity exists, and a call may be easily made, or a card left, while, on the other hand, should the new acquaintance prove "pushing," or in any way obnoxious, one simply ceases to leave one's cards and the evil is done away with. many elderly ladies, and others whose time is very much occupied by social or other duties, excuse themselves from calling customs. under such circumstances, they frequently send their cards, accompanied by an invitation, to newcomers younger in years, thus entirely omitting the personal visit. such invitations, whether accepted or not, should be honored in the same manner as if preceded by a call. if two people meet pleasantly at a friend's house and wish to continue the acquaintance so begun, let them not hesitate, should none of the before-mentioned distinctions exist, as to which should make the first visit. still, it is ofttimes wise not to call too hastily upon the newcomer, especially in cities, where it is well first to be properly introduced, and further still to have some assurance that your acquaintance is desired by them as well. as before stated, priority of residence, age, or pre-eminence in social position, should properly be upon the side of the one making the first advances. if none of these exist, let the braver of the two break the social ice. the etiquette of summer resorts demands that the owners of cottages call first upon renters, and afterward that both unite in calling upon later comers and arrivals at hotels or boarding houses. of course, such intercourse is simply for the pleasure of the time being, and carries with it no responsibility of recognition in the future, unless such recognition should be satisfactory to both parties. it would be well for the "summer girl" and the "summer young man" to remember this canon whereby "society" guards the doors of its exclusiveness, enjoy the "good that the gods give" and expect no more. substitute for first call. in continental countries, and in cosmopolitan washington, newcomers make the first advances themselves, leaving cards with those whom they wish to number among their acquaintances. every one returns these cards, and invitations flow in upon the aspirant for social honors. this custom, unfortunately, does not hold good anywhere else in this country, though a polite expedient is sometimes adopted by persons entering upon life in a new city. this consists in the newcomer sending out her cards for several reception days in a month. these may be accompanied, or not, by the card of some friend well known in social circles, if such she have, to serve as voucher. if not, she relies upon her own merits and sends out her cards unaccompanied. according to the varied authorities recommending this course of action, those rudely ignoring this suggestion are few in number, and the lady is permitted at once to feel that she has commenced her social career. morning and evening visits. any visit made between the hours of twelve and six is to be looked upon as a morning visit, though there is a little difference in various cities with regard to the exact time. where one expects to touch upon reception hours, from three to five is usually a safe limit. in country towns or the small cities, from two to five are the usual hours for paying visits. evening visits should be made between the hours of eight and nine, and ordinarily should never extend in length beyond the hour of ten. sunday visits. gentlemen are permitted to call upon lady friends, sundays after church and sunday evenings, business cares being their excuse for not availing themselves of the other days of the week. of course, if there exists any known objection in the family to sunday visiting all their friends are bound to respect it. reception days. if a lady have a known reception day, callers are bound, in common politeness, to make their visits, as far as possible, upon that day. if this is not done, either a card only should be left, or, if a personal visit is intended, particular instructions should be given to the servant to the effect that if "mrs. brown is otherwise engaged she is not to trouble herself to come down." for which thoughtfulness, "mrs. brown," if she be a busy woman, and troubled with many social cares, will cordially thank you. unfortunately, it often happens that many of our friends have the same reception day, and one's own "day" may conflict with that of one's nearest friend, so that, where the circle of acquaintance is large, much good nature, a few apologies and a great many cards are needed to safely balance the social accounts. it is considered a rudeness to simply leave a card, when one happens to arrive upon a lady's reception day, without entering the room for a few moments' visit. "not at home," "engaged." the simple and necessary formulæ of, "not at home," or "engaged," are more frequently questioned than any other social custom. nevertheless their use is often a necessity, while, on the contrary, their abuse is to be regretted. no suspicion of an untruth need apply to either, for the phrase, "not at home," is used with the accepted signification of, "not at home, for the time being, to any visitors." if, however, conscience rebels against this so transparent fraud, there is always the alternative of "engaged," which carries not the least suspicion of deception with it, but is somewhat less gracious to the ear. indeed, were it not for these safeguards, the woman of society must bid good-by to all opportunities for solitude, self-improvement, or the fulfillment of her own social duties. the servant should be very carefully instructed each morning as to the formulæ to be employed through the day, or such portion of the day as the lady of the house shall require to herself. no lady, after a servant has informed her that the mistress of the house is "not at home," will question as to her whereabouts, or the probable length of her absence. if she should so far forget her dignity, the well-trained servant will answer all inquiries with a respectful, "i do not know, madame," adding, if such be the case, "mrs. brown receives on thursdays." should a servant show evident hesitation upon receiving your card, and say, "i will see if mrs. brown is in," enter the parlor, at the same time saying, "if mrs. brown is otherwise engaged, or going out, beg her not to trouble herself." never, except upon urgent necessity, insist upon pencilling a word or two upon a visiting card and sending it up, where a lady is "engaged," as a demand upon her attention. if a servant has said the lady is "not at home," she has a perfect right to refuse the message. in suburban towns and small cities, where reception days are not common, the lady of the house must be very careful how and when she denies herself to visitors. indeed, in all cases much discrimination must be shown in this respect, as great inconvenience may result, and some injustice be done, by an indiscriminate denial. but, as before said, in towns, it is better, if possible, to receive guests. even if no servant is kept, the mistress can usually, by the exercise of a little care, keep herself neat and presentable. if at any time some slight alterations are necessary to the toilet, let the interval thus employed be very short. some one has said that it would be well for a lady having a reception day to devote a part of the morning of the same day to business calls, and to instruct her servants to inform all comers of this custom. visiting list. it is well for all ladies having a large list of acquaintances to keep a carefully revised visiting list to assist their memories as to addresses, names of persons to invite, reception days of acquaintances, and, if possible, a list of their own ceremonious visits for the season, noting those that have been returned. the time thus expended is amply repaid by the convenience of reference and the avoidance of the possibility of making a second visit when the first is unreturned. also this list serves as a basis for the visiting list of the next season; those having failed to return calls or cards being dropped from the new list. visits between ladies and gentlemen. a gentleman, as a rule, should not ask a lady for permission to call upon her. it is very easy for her, if she desires his company, to say: "i receive thursdays," or, "i shall be at home monday." it is a great discourtesy for a gentleman not to call at the time mentioned, or in a very few days, after being thus invited by a lady. some gentlemen, if simply asked to "call sometime," will ask, "when may i have the pleasure of seeing you?" to this question a definite answer should be returned, if possible. very young ladies do not thus invite gentlemen; the invitation coming from either father, mother, or chaperon. a gentleman does not call upon a lady without some intimation of her wishes in the matter, unless he is the bearer of a letter of introduction, or is taken to her home by some friend sufficiently well acquainted to warrant the liberty. he may, however, seek an introduction through some mutual acquaintance. ladies may express regret at being out when a gentleman called; he also should regret the absence. if it should happen that a gentleman should call several times in succession and be so unfortunate as to miss the lady each time, it would be quite proper for her to write him a note, regretting her absence and appointing an evening when she would be at home for his next call. this would remove any feeling of annoyance on his part that perhaps her absence had been premeditated. gentlemen frequently call upon their married lady friends, doing so without the slightest appearance of secrecy and with full knowledge of all parties concerned. indeed, the right of entrance to some of these pleasant home parlors is a great boon to the unmarried men of our cities. ladies do not call upon gentlemen except professionally or officially, or, it may be, in some cases of protracted invalidism. "out of society." it sometimes happens that a newly-married lady, or a newcomer in some city, through severe illness, a season of mourning, or devotion to home duties, finds herself, in a year or so, completely "out" of a society with which she had scarcely become acquainted. if she be timid and non-assertive, she will sink back dismayed at the prospect, but if energetic and aspiring, she will at once win her way back by giving a series of receptions, either formal or informal, to all her old-time friends; or, by entering into charities, or joining literary or musical clubs, she will quickly reinstate herself in the memory of society. conduct of the hostess. a hostess does not necessarily advance to receive her guests, simply rising and moving forward a step in order to shake hands (if she should so wish), remaining standing till they are seated, and, if possible, keeping the latest comer near her side. gentlemen should always permit the lady to make the first advance in the matter of hand-shaking. it is her prerogative. as the guests depart, the hostess does not accompany each one to the door, but rising, remains standing until the guests have quite left the room, when it is to be supposed they will be met by a servant. in country towns the hostess usually accompanies the guest to the door, if there are others present, excusing herself to them and remaining out of the room but a moment. entertaining callers. where there are several guests in the room at once the hostess should try to make the conversation general and pay equal attention to all, save that for a few moments, the latest arrival engages her more intimately, or some guest of great intellectual or artistic genius may be honored among the rest, as a lion of the hour. if you should chance to find, at once, in your reception room, two friends with whom you are upon equal terms of intimacy, treat them with the most absolute impartiality, being demonstrative toward neither, for there is too much truth in the saying that "there is always a feeling of jealousy on the part of each, that another should share your thoughts and feelings to the same extent as themselves." there are other occasions where the same care against wounding their feelings should be observed. if there should be any preference with regard to seats, one suggestion is that a lady should be seated on a couch or sofa, unless advanced in years, when she should be asked to accept an easy chair; an elderly gentleman should be treated in the same manner. if a young lady should be occupying a particularly comfortable seat, she must at once arise and offer it to an older lady entering the room. should the hostess, upon the arrival of occasional visitors, be engaged upon work requiring any attention, she must at once relinquish it; but should it be light, ornamental, and not at all confining, she may continue it, if so requested. it would be well, however, to drop it at intervals, lest it appear as if there were more interest in the work than the visitor. refreshments are not offered to visitors unless it is a regular reception day with afternoon tea. conduct of the guests. if a visitor on entering the room finds that name or face has not been remembered by the hostess, let the difficulty be rectified by the guest pronouncing the name instantly and distinctly, the hostess, on her part, to remember names and faces. a bad memory is inconsistent with good manners. in very fashionable houses a servant announces the name of each guest as they enter, thus saving any confusion. should you find yourself ushered into a room where there are several inmates, all strangers, ask for the individual you wish to see and introduce yourself distinctly. if your friend is at a hotel, wait in the parlor until the servant who carries up your card has returned to tell you whether you can be admitted. never follow him as he goes to make the announcement. a little formality is the best preservative of friendship. if, while you are paying a visit, other guests arrive, you should, providing your stay has been sufficiently long, arise so soon as they are quietly seated, make your adieus to your hostess, bow politely to the other inmates of the room and take your departure. if you should be calling upon a lady and meet a lady visitor in her drawing room, you should rise when that lady takes her leave. the style of conversation should always be in keeping with the circumstances under which the visit is made. common sense alone should teach us that where a short morning call is in question, light, witty and quickly-changed subjects only should be entered upon, the nature of the case plainly prohibiting discussions on many topics. gentlemen are expected not to use classical quotations before ladies without a slight apology and a translation, unless they are aware that the lady's educational training has made it possible for her to appreciate them. it would be well if they would use the same courtesy toward other men not gifted like themselves. for a general maxim, it may be here recommended not to air one's classical learning unnecessarily, lest it savor of pedantry. guests should greet their hostess cordially, but a bow is usually sufficient to include the others present. young ladies visiting a strange city should not receive calls from a gentleman without requesting the privilege from their hostess, and hostess and daughters should be introduced to him. always avoid the slightest appearance of seeming to use your friend's house for a rendezvous. deference to ladies. a gentleman rises when ladies leave the room. ladies bow if it is a gentleman, rising if it is a lady acquaintance, or a lady much older than themselves. a gentleman rises when ladies enter a room, but never offers them his chair unless there should be no other in the room. a gentleman carries his hat and cane into the drawing room with him in making a visit. his hostess should no more offer to relieve him of them that she would take fan and handkerchief from the hands of her lady guests. if he wears an outer coat he leaves that in the hall; if there should be no hall the hostess may ask him to put it on a chair or in another room. his hat and cane he either holds if he chooses, or places beside him on the floor, never on a chair or other article of furniture. if he intends spending the evening, he can, if he choose, leave hat and cane in the hall. gentlemen should never bring friends with them to call upon ladies unless they have first received permission from them so to do. after escorting a lady on the previous evening the gentleman should make a call upon her the following day, if possible. gentlemen should not consult their watches during a ceremonious visit. if some pressing engagement should render this necessary, they should offer both an apology and an explanation. a gentleman, unless invited, should never seat himself beside his hostess, but should take the chair pointed out to him. gentlemen, in receiving other gentlemen, go to the door to meet them and furnish them with seats. the man of the house should escort ladies to their carriage, should they call while he is at home. if it be raining or otherwise disagreeable, and they have their own coachman, they should, however, beg him not to trouble himself. gentlemen should decline an invitation to spend the evening when making a first visit; indeed, such an invitation should never be given. a man is usually asked to repeat his visit by the mistress of the house, not by the daughters, or else it is given by their chaperon. what not to do. do not, according to the author of "don't," be in haste to seat yourself; one appears fully as well and talks better, standing for a few moments. a man should always remain standing as long as there are any women standing in the room. a man should never take any article from a woman's hands--book, cup, flower, etc.--and remain seated, she standing. this rule is an imperative one; he must always rise to receive it. do not take young children when making formal calls; the hostess will be in terror as to the fate of her bric-à-brac, and the mother in dread as to what her young hopefuls may say or do. do not take pet dogs with you into the drawing room. their feet may be dusty, they may be boisterous in expressing their feelings, and besides, some people have a perfect aversion to dogs, so that your visit, thus accompanied, is likely to be far from pleasant. do not meddle with, nor stare at the articles in the room. do not toss over the cards in the card receiver, if there be one, and, while your name is being announced, do not wander impatiently around the room handling everything within reach. do not loll about in your chair, if a gentleman (a lady scarcely needs this caution), keep your feet squarely in front of you, not crossing them; ladies would do well to heed this also. do not torment pet dogs or cats, or tease the children. do not call the length of the room if you wish to address any one, but cross the room and speak to him quietly. neither should you whisper to some one of the company, twist or curl your thumbs or hands, or play with the tassels on the furniture or window curtains, or commit any of the thousand and one blunders that mark the underbred and nervous visitor and render his presence an unwelcome trial. there are a few other rules that would seem unnecessary to mention here were it not that they are so constantly sinned against. among others it may be suggested not to do anything disagreeable in company. do not scratch the head or use a toothpick, earspoon or comb; these are for the privacy of your own apartment. use a handkerchief whenever necessary, but without glancing at it afterwards, and be quiet and unobtrusive in the action as possible. do not slam the door, do not tilt your chair back to the loosening of its joints, do not lean your head against the wall, as it will soil the papering; in short, do unto others as you would be done by. do not tell long stories, more especially if they are about yourself; do not argue; do not talk scandal, and be sure not to attack the religious beliefs of any one present. do study the chapter on the "art of conversation," and cultivate, as much as possible, that self-repose of manner that is, above all things, a sign of the lady or gentleman. the reception-room. the arrangement of the reception-room itself has much to do with the pleasure of the visitor. who does not remember those delightful parlors where the guests dropped into pleasant conversational groups as by magic, and contrast them mentally with those other chilly apartments where a sort of mental frost seems to settle over one's faculties and incapacitate them for use. much of this may be avoided by a judicious arrangement of chairs and couches, just where people drop naturally into easy groups, or, for the time being, surround their hostess. propinquity is a great incentive to pleasant conversation, for there are few people that can talk the pretty nothings and sparkling witticisms, whereof parlor conversation properly consists, across space to people stranded against the opposite wall. therefore let the hostess, who would have her symposiums remembered with delight, see to it that she has an abundance of chairs, both easy and light, easy ones for the refreshment of the weary in body and light ones that may be quickly moved when the spirit moves toward some other group. a clever woman, to whom all social arts were long-solved problems, once said that she always observed how the chairs were left in a drawing room where several people had been sitting and put them in the same position next time. a group near the door where the casual caller will naturally drop into one and the hostess into another, without the least effort, will be placed in the best possible position for a little chat. fulfill these conditions and your drawing room will be often filled and the fame of it will go abroad. formal calls, as a rule, are at best but a duty performed that brings a satisfaction in itself, but it sometimes happens that, as a reward for our well-doing, some word may be said, some friend may be met by a happy chance that is like a gleam of sunshine on a cloudy day. [illustration] invitations formal and informal [illustration] there are certain rules to be observed in the writing of invitations that cannot be transgressed without incurring a just suspicion as to the degree of one's acquaintance with the laws and canons that govern our best society. for instance, mrs. john doe issues invitations for a ball or evening party; these, if issued in her own name or in the name of herself and daughter, or lady friend, would, very properly, find them "at home" on a certain evening. should, however, the invitations be sent out in the name of herself and husband, then it is that "mr. and mrs. john doe request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. richard roe's company" at a certain date. we will also find that mr. dick roe is never "at home," but "requests the pleasure of your company." to widely depart from any of these received canons of etiquette is to commit a decided solecism and to discover an utter unfitness for the desired social rank. fortunately, there is no need, even for those not to the manor born, of displaying any ignorance in this matter when the simple consultation of a standard work on social etiquette will give the needed information and save the credit of the individual. at first sight, it would seem a very easy thing to invite a friend to come to you at a given day and hour, and to accept or decline said invitation would appear a matter scarcely worth considering. this rash conclusion, however, disappears from view when it is recollected that the proper phrasing, the suitable signature, and the appropriate paper, are all matters of the nicest choice, and indicate with the most unerring accuracy the good or ill breeding of the parties interested. from two to three persons only are invited from one family to the same entertainment, and, in the event of a small dinner party, two would be the limit. the invitations would be addressed, not to mr. coates and family, but one to "mr. and mrs. coates," another to "the misses coates," or to "miss coates." if there are brothers, and they are to be invited, a separate invitation is required for each one of them; a single one addressed to the "messrs. coates" being considered in bad taste. to one son and one daughter a joint invitation may be extended in the name of "miss coates and brother." on rather informal occasions where the family, and perhaps their guests also, are desired to be present, the invitation may be sent in the name of "mr. and mrs. james b. coates and party." note paper for invitations. note paper for invitations should be plain, unruled, heavy in texture, creamy-white in tint, and of a size to fold once to fit the large, square envelope of the same size and tint. monogram, if used, or crests, if they may be rightfully claimed, should be stamped or embossed in white directly in the center of the upper portion of the sheet and on the upper flap of the inner envelope only. this envelope should bear the name simply of the invited guest, and is to be enclosed in a perfectly plain, somewhat larger envelope, which bears the entire address and protects the enclosure from the soil of frequent handling by postman or messenger. invitation cards. invitation cards, if they are used, should be heavy, creamy-white, and of a size to fit the large, square envelope. such a card is sufficiently large to contain any ordinary invitation, and should be enclosed, as above, in two envelopes. writing the invitation should receive the greatest care, especial attention being given to securing each phrase a line to itself. for instance, the names of host and hostess should never be separated, but given an entire line, the same rule applying to the names of the invited guests. invitations written in the third person should always be replied to in the third person, care being taken to permit no change of person from beginning to end of the note. this rule holds good in whatever person the invitation may have been written; regrets or acceptances must be sent in the same manner. no one, nowadays, "presents his (or her) compliments" in giving or accepting an invitation; neither is "your polite invitation" any longer the best form. "your kind," or "your very kind invitation," being the most graceful manner of acknowledging the courtesy extended. written regrets. always, if possible, accept a first invitation if the new acquaintance is to be kept up. in case inexorable circumstances prevent this acceptance, the regret sent should explain these circumstances fully and be very cordially written; while the earliest opportunity must be taken of extending some courtesy in return. even should you not desire the acquaintance, your regrets should be courteous and cards should be left at the house in response to their civility. it is then at your own option whether or not to acknowledge the acquaintance farther. invitations can be written or engraved on the large cards, or small sheets of note paper, that are used for this purpose, though, on all formal occasions, engraved forms in clear, fine script are preferable, and for weddings absolutely necessary. if written, black ink should be invariably used. a young lady never sends out invitations in her own name; instead, "mrs. and miss hoyt" are "at home," or the name of the young lady's chaperon appears with her own, as: "mrs. haviland and miss hoyt, at home, etc." uninvited guests. should it so happen that an uninvited guest finds, accidentally, his way into the festivities, let the strictest politeness mark his reception, neither word nor glance betraying the slightest surprise at the unexpected arrival. inviting married people. a married man should never be invited to an entertainment without his wife, nor a married woman without including her husband also in the invitation. an invitation erring in this particular should be looked upon as an insult, and should never be honored by an acceptance. this category, however, does not include gatherings, such as ladies' luncheons or gentlemen's game suppers, that are wholly confined to the members of one sex. dinners. ladies who give many dinner parties usually keep on hand the engraved invitation cards, with blanks left for the insertion of name and date. the invitation for a dinner party is always sent out in the name of both host and hostess, and the usual form is as follows: [illustration: _mr. and mrs. grant white_ _request the pleasure of your company at dinner,_ _on ---- evening, ----,_ _at eight o'clock._ _ graceland court._ _r.s.v.p._] the letters _r.s.v.p._ are simply the initials of the french words, _repondez s'il vous plait_, meaning, "reply, if you please." some very stylish people now use, in place of these letters, the english phrase: "the favor of answer is requested." written invitations, or those engraved for a single occasion, would read as follows: [illustration: _mr. and mrs. philip vance_ _request the pleasure of_ _mr. and mrs. otis sullivan's_ _company at dinner,_ _on tuesday, march th, at o'clock._ _ ashland boulevard._ _the favor of an answer is requested._] _r.s.v.p._ can be substituted for the last phrase, if desired. if the host be a widower with a young lady daughter, the invitation can be issued in the name of father and daughter, as: "mr. and miss van vleit, etc.," or, a lady and her daughter, under similar circumstances, would issue invitations in the name of "mrs. holt and miss holt." persons who make a point of strictly observing the usages of polite society are extremely careful, having received any invitation, to take immediate notice of it, according to proper form. this is only a courtesy due to the one who has sent the invitation, which should be accepted or declined promptly, in order that the hostess may know what to depend upon. if the dinner party is given to introduce either a friend or some person of distinction, an extra card, inscribed as follows, is enclosed in the same envelope: to meet mr. ----. another form would be: [illustration: _mr. and mrs. jackson_ _request the pleasure of_ _mr. and mrs. brown's_ _company at dinner,_ _to meet robert browning,_ _thursday, october th at seven o'clock._ _ arch street._ _r.s.v.p._] it is well, if the party is given in honor of some celebrated person, to give them the choice of several dates before issuing the general invitation, thus assuring yourself that no conflicting engagement will rob the entertainment of its bright, particular star. an invitation to a dinner is the highest social compliment that can be offered. it should be sent out about ten days in advance, and requires an immediate and positive answer, for it is to be supposed that the hostess wishes to make up her table at once. both invitation and answer should be sent by messenger; all other invitations, and replies to the same, may be sent by mail. in london, however, where distances are so great, all invitations, without exception, are sent by post. in case of an informal dinner, a verbal invitation is sometimes sent, one or two days beforehand, by a servant, and a verbal answer is given at the time. the principal objection against this method is that the date, having no written reminder, may be confounded with some other engagement. where the affair is not too stately, an informal invitation, written in the first person, may be pleasantly exchanged between friend and friend. for instance: my dear mrs. roe: my aunt, mrs. lefevre, of new york city, is here with me for a short stay, and mr. doe and i hope that you and mr. roe can give us the pleasure of your company at dinner, on tuesday, october ninth, at seven o'clock, when, with a few other friends, we hope to pass a pleasant hour in your society. cordially yours, marian doe _mrs. marian doe, st. caroline's court._ asking for invitations. asking for invitations for one's visiting friends, while permissible on some occasions, such as requesting the favor of bringing a gentleman to a ball where dancing men are always at a premium, or an unexpected guest of your family to a reception or evening party, should never be resorted to when a dinner party is in question, for, to gratify the request would, in all probability, throw the whole of a carefully arranged table into disorder. this rule is only to be broken when the guest to be included is some really celebrated character whose addition to the company would compensate for the extra covers to be laid and the re-arrangements to be made before the unexpected guest can be accommodated. no one, however, should feel offense when a request of this nature is refused. the hostess, in all probability, had good and sufficient reasons for her course of action. invitations for a married couple should never be requested. evening parties, balls and "at homes." invitations to these entertainments are issued in the name of the hostess only, and are sent out from ten days to two weeks in advance. informal occasions, however, give very short notice, and it is well to use the word "informal" in the invitation, that guests may not put themselves to inconvenience as regards dress. it must be remembered that this term is too often misleading in its nature, and many a sensitive guest has been seriously annoyed by finding herself, after a too literal interpretation of the "informal" character of the entertainment, in a crowd of gay butterflies, a misuse of the word that should be seriously protested against. invitations to evening parties and private balls are less elaborate than formerly; the word "party" or "ball" is never used unless on the occasion of some public affair, such as a charity ball, but any especial feature of the evening may be mentioned in the invitation. to an evening party where dancing may, or may not, be a feature of the entertainment, the following, either engraved or written on a small sheet of note paper, is a very good form: [illustration: _mrs. stuyvesant wentworth_ _requests the pleasure of the company of_ _mr. and mrs. mark cowden,_ _on wednesday evening, july th,_ _at nine o' clock._ _informal._] all invitations are to be considered as "formal" unless the word "informal" appears on the card. if the card states that the entertainment is to be "informal," the invited guest is fully justified in considering it so, and dressing accordingly. neither host, hostess, nor other guests can take any exception if the invitation is treated just as it reads. if dancing is the feature of the evening, the same form may be used with the word "dancing" added in the lower left hand corner. or: [illustration: _mrs. john burrows,_ _at home,_ _thursday evening, october first,_ _at nine o'clock._ _ lefrance avenue._ _quadrilles at ten._] if the ball is at a public place, as at delmonico's, in new york, the following form is appropriate, always making use, in case of so public an entertainment, of the host's name in connection with that of the hostess: [illustration: _mr. and mrs. george douglas_ _request the pleasure of your company,_ _thursday evening, december twelfth,_ _at nine o'clock._ _delmonico's._] another form that would be equally appropriate is as follows: [illustration: _mr. and mrs. augustus saltus,_ _sanger halle,_ _wednesday evening, january twentieth._ _german at nine._ _r.s.v.p._] if any of these occasions are intended to introduce a _débutante_, her card may be enclosed. if they are given in honor of a friend, or some celebrated individual, the following form is appropriate: [illustration: _mrs. henry alexander_ _requests the favor of your company on_ _tuesday evening, october tenth,_ _from eight to eleven o'clock,_ _to meet the_ _rev. prof. dr. kemp,_ _of the princeton theological seminary._ _ west th street._ _r.s.v.p._] or, if very formal, the name of the guest may be given first, as: to meet the chief justice of the united states and mrs. fuller. mrs. harold courtright, at home, from eight to eleven o'clock, thursday, february seventh. _r.s.v.p._ this same precedence may be given to the name of an honored guest in a dinner or other invitation. still another form is where the name of the guest is written on a separate card, thus: to meet mrs. summerville. enclose this in the same envelope. for a club party the following may be used: the la salle club requests the pleasure of your attendance wednesday evening, june eight, at nine o'clock. west st street. _r.s.v.p._ a still more simple form for a party invitation is an "at home" card filled out thus: mrs. don carlos porter, at home, tuesday evening, march fourth. broadway. cotillion at ten. _r.s.v.p._ masquerades. the entire invitation for a masquerade may be engraved, or it may be written, with the exception of the word "masquerade," which should be engraved on the card. for example: [illustration: _mrs. l.j. lefevre_ _requests the pleasure of your company,_ _saturday evening, november twelfth,_ _at eight o'clock._ masquerade. _r.s.v.p._ _ east thirtieth street._] musicales, soirées and matinées. invitations to a musicale are simply written on "at home" cards, thus: [illustration: _mrs. p.v. vanvechton,_ _at home,_ _tuesday, april second._ _music at half-past three._] or: mrs. p.v. vanvechton, at home, tuesday afternoon, april second, from half-past three to five o'clock. _matinée musicale._ if the musicale is to be an evening affair, and dancing is to follow the music, the following form of invitation may be used: mrs. herbert hughes, at home, friday evening, january tenth, at eight o'clock. winchester avenue. music. dancing at ten. precisely the same form is to be used in giving out invitations for a _soirée_, save that the word "_soirée_" is substituted for that of "_musicale_" or "_matinée musicale_." it may be farther added that the term "_matinée_" applies exclusively to entertainments given in the morning, or at any time before dinner, a distinction to which our custom of late dinners gives a wide latitude, so that any entertainment up to eight o'clock in the evening may receive the name of _matinée_, notwithstanding the fact that drawn curtains and gas-lighted rooms may give all the semblance of night-time. "_soirée_," however, is used only where an evening party of a semi-informal character is denoted. garden parties. precisely the same form of "at home" cards can be used for these entertainments, substituting the words "garden party" in the left hand corner and sending them out some two or three days in advance. or, if a more formal affair is intended, use the following: mrs. waite talcott requests the pleasure of the company of mr. and mrs. john clay, on monday, august fifth, at four o'clock. garden party. "the oaks." if it should be desirable to include the entire family in the invitation, the wording would be as follows: [illustration: _mr. and mrs. john clay and party._ _mrs. waite talcott,_ _at home,_ _tuesday, august fifth, at four o'clock._ _"the oaks."_ _garden party._ _r.s.v.p._ _carriages will meet the . train from union depot._] this clause to be added only when the party is to be given at some distance from the station. if preferred, these directions may be written on a separate small card and enclosed in the same envelope. in this country we are not so accustomed to giving garden parties as people are in england, but a garden party may easily be made one of the most inviting and enjoyable of any. breakfasts, luncheons and suppers. breakfast invitations may be engraved or written upon a lady's visiting card, thus: [illustration: _mrs. george norton._ _breakfast, wednesday, at ten o'clock._ _ euclid avenue._] a written invitation is usually in the first person, and should read somewhat as follows: dear mrs. gracie: i should be pleased to have the company of you and your husband at breakfast with us, wednesday morning at ten o'clock. cordially yours, gertrude horton. mrs. george horton. the invitations should be sent out a week or five days in advance, and should be answered at once. luncheons, in this country, are very apt to possess much of the formality of a dinner, and are written or engraved, according to the degree of stateliness that is to mark the occasion. very formal invitations are sent out ten days or two weeks in advance, and are couched in precisely the same terms as a dinner invitation, save that the word "luncheon" is substituted for "dinner." written invitations, also, follow the same plan as those written for dinners, and are not usually issued more than a week or five days in advance. some ladies use their visiting card, thus: mrs. frank e. wentworth. luncheon, wednesday, at one o'clock. a later hour, say two o'clock, is usually adopted for a more formal affair. replies should be sent at once that the hostess may be enabled to make up her table. teas and "kettledrums." teas and "kettledrums," high tea and afternoon receptions, have come to bear a strong resemblance one to another, in fact to infringe so much upon the same territory that it is very difficult at times to distinguish between them sufficiently to apply the appropriate name. a simple affair is announced thus by those ladies who have a regular reception day: mrs. john st. john. thursdays. tea at five o'clock. west th street. or: mrs. john st. john. five o'clock tea. thursday, february fifth. west th street. the words "kettledrum" or "afternoon tea" are not to be used, and these cards may be sent by mail, enclosed in a single envelope. they require no answer. where the lady has not a regular reception day and wishes to give an afternoon tea, an engraved card, like the following, is usually sent out: mrs. arthur merrill. miss merrill. monday, february third, from four to seven o'clock. chestnut street. in case of the hostess having no one to receive with her, her name would appear alone upon the card. the name of any friend may take the place of a daughter's. such an entertainment partakes more of the nature of an afternoon reception, or high tea. it may be adapted also to other occasions, such as the introduction to one's friends of a guest who is to make a prolonged stay, as for instance: mrs. arthur merrill, at home, monday, december seventh, from one until seven o'clock. to meet mrs. frances elmer. vine street. invitations like this and the one just above are to be enclosed in two envelopes, same as for dinners and sent out ten days or two weeks in advance. kaffee klatsch. this furnishes very much the same class of entertainment that is to be found at an afternoon tea, save that coffee is the predominating beverage. the invitation is precisely the same as for teas, simply substituting the words "kaffee klatsch." suppers. for the evening supper, invitations are issued in some one of the forms presented for dinner parties, substituting the word "supper." answers should be returned at once. coming-out parties. these special festivities may take almost any form, so that the presentation of the blushing _débutante_ may be at a dinner, ball, reception, evening party or afternoon tea; which latter custom has become very frequent of late. so much is this the case that it is somewhat to be reprehended as rendering afternoon teas too ceremonious in character. there is this in its favor, however; it relieves young girls from the strain incident upon a large party or ball. in some cases, the invitations preserve their usual form (whatever that may be) and the card of the _débutante_ is enclosed in the same envelope. even this distinction is sometimes wanting. again, in the case of "at homes" and "teas," the name of the young lady is engraved beneath that of her mother; if it is the eldest daughter, the form would be: mrs. arthur holt. miss holt. a younger daughter, under the same circumstances, would pose as: miss edith may holt. such cards do not need a reply, but the guest will remember to leave cards in the hall for the _débutante_ as well as her mother or _chaperon_. it may be said here that, should it for any reason occur that the young lady is "brought out" under the wing of some friend instead of under her mother's care, the relative position their names will occupy on the cards is precisely the same, as: mrs. d.g. haviland. miss holt. a more formal presentation would be in the style of an engraved note sheet: [illustration: _mrs. arthur holt_ _requests the pleasure of introducing her daughter,_ _edith may,_ _to_ _mr. and mrs. ross clark,_ _on thursday evening, december fifth,_ _at nine o'clock._ _ st. caroline's court._ _r.s.v.p._] this invitation, of course, implies a large evening party, reception or ball, and should be sent out ten days or two weeks in advance of the event. receptions. informal receptions and full-dress occasions of the same kind are announced somewhat differently. in the first case the affair partakes so closely of the nature of an afternoon tea that the same form of invitation is used: mrs. howard post, at home, tuesday, october second, from four to seven. if a series of receptions are planned the form would be: mrs. howard post, at home, tuesdays in november, from four to six o'clock. full-dress receptions are frequently given both afternoon and evening, sometimes in the evening only. invitations to these should be engraved on square cards or note sheets, and sent out two weeks previous to the reception day. a very good form is: [illustration: _mrs. jerome hastings_ _requests the pleasure of your company,_ _on thursday, november twelfth,_ _from five until ten o'clock._ _ dupage street._ _r.s.v.p._] if a daughter or a friend is to assist in receiving, the invitation should include her name also: mrs. jerome hastings, miss hastings, at home, thursday, november twelfth, from five until ten o'clock. dupage street. when the reception is given by a gentleman, and its object is to enable his friends to meet some distinguished guest, the following form is used: mr. howard post requests the pleasure of the company of mr. alonzo metcalf to meet general e.l. bates. union league club. cedar street. _r.s.v.p._ though some prefer placing the name of the honored guest first, according to the form given under dinner invitations. the answer should be: mr. alonzo metcalf accepts with pleasure mr. howard post's kind invitation to meet general e.l. bates. weddings. wedding invitations are issued two weeks in advance, sometimes earlier to friends at a distance, in order that they may lay their plans accordingly. they are engraved in fine script on small sheets of cream note, and the form most used for church weddings is as follows: [illustration: _mr. and mrs. richard earle_ _request the pleasure of your company_ _at the marriage of their daughter,_ _guendolen_ _to_ _mr. egbert ray cranston_ _on tuesday, june eighteenth, ,_ _at half-past twelve o'clock,_ _christ church,_ _binghamton._] still another form would give the daughter's name as "miss guendolen earle." there may or may not be a monogram on the sheet of paper, but, if used there, one to correspond must be placed on the inner envelope also. the envelope, however, may be stamped with a monogram and the paper left plain, this latter style being much in favor. where the wedding is in church, it is usually followed by an after-reception, cards for which are engraved in some similar form to the following: reception from one until three o'clock, washington street. or: at home after the ceremony. washington street. a still more ceremonious invitation to the reception may be issued in the parents' name, and in the usual form of similar invitations, as: mr. and mrs. richard earle request the pleasure of your company at the wedding reception of their daughter, guendolen, and mr. egbert ray cranston, tuesday evening, june eighteenth, , from nine to eleven o'clock. washington street. if there is reason to believe that the church will be crowded with uninvited guests, admission cards are engraved as follows: christ church. please present this card to the usher. tuesday, june eighteenth. how invitations are sent. several of these cards are usually enclosed for distribution to friends of the invited and for the use of servants that have accompanied guests to the church. this custom is hardly necessary in country towns. all of the cards and the invitation are enclosed in one envelope superscribed with the name only of the person invited, and re-inclosed in another envelope bearing the full address. all formal invitations are to be enclosed in the two envelopes as above; less stately affairs requiring but one envelope; send by mail. in england, wedding invitations are issued in the name of the mother of the bride only; here custom sanctions the use of the father's name as well. if the invitation is issued in the name of some other relative, then the word "granddaughter," "niece," etc., should be substituted for that of "daughter." if the future home of the young couple is decided upon, "at home" cards also should be enclosed for all the invited guests that the bride desires to retain upon her visiting list. the following form is appropriate: mr. and mrs. egbert ray cranston, at home, thursdays in september, from four until six o'clock. washington street. or, in place of designating especial days, it may read: mr. and mrs. egbert ray cranston, at home, after september first. washington street. where the list of acquaintances is very large it sometimes happens that a portion of the guests are invited to the church only. when this is the case the reception card is omitted from the envelope; but if a visiting acquaintance is to be maintained, "at home" cards must be enclosed. wedding invitations. the home wedding is, perhaps, less stately in appearance, but, involving as it does, less care on the part of friends and less nervous strain on that of the bride, is frequently adopted. the invitations are precisely the same as for a church wedding, merely inserting street and number in place of designating the church, omitting, of course, the card of admittance and that for reception. the "at home" card of the newly-married couple should always be enclosed lest doubt as to their new address prove perplexing to their friends. sometimes, where life is to be commenced in their own home, the wedded pair, soon after their establishment therein, send out "at home" cards for a few evenings after this style: mr. and mrs. egbert ray cranston, at home, tuesday evenings in september, from eight to eleven o'clock. washington street. gatherings such as these partake of the nature of semi-formal receptions and present a delightful opportunity for welcoming friends to the new home, and at same time arranging a visiting list for the season, no one receiving a card to these entertainments that is not to be honored with a place thereon. these invitations are to be sent out after the return from the bridal tour, and, when thus used, the first-given "at home" card is omitted in sending out the wedding invitation. if the wedding is to be a morning affair from the church, followed by a breakfast, the first given invitation is issued and the following engraved card enclosed in the same envelope: mr. and mrs. richard earle request the pleasure of your company at breakfast, tuesday, june twentieth, at half past twelve o'clock. washington street. "at home" cards and cards to the church should be enclosed as before. the time should be carefully arranged so that not more than half an hour is allowed to elapse between the ceremony at the church and the reception or breakfast at the house. a home wedding with a breakfast simply sends out the ordinary wedding invitation, indicating the hour and giving the street and number. sometimes, at a home wedding, it is desired that no one but relatives or very particular friends should be present at the ceremony. under these circumstances the usual invitations are issued. then, for the favored few, ceremony cards are enclosed, on which the words are engraved: ceremony at half past eight. "at home" cards may be enclosed as before. where the wedding has been entirely private, the mother, or some other relative of the bride, frequently gives a reception upon the return home of the young couple, invitations to which are issued as follows: mrs. richard earle, mrs. egbert ray cranston. at home, wednesday, september first, from four to ten o'clock. washington street. for an evening reception the form is a little different: mr. and mrs. richard earle request the pleasure of your company, thursday, september second, from nine to eleven o'clock. washington street. enclosing the card of mr. and mrs. egbert ray cranston. announcement cards. announcement cards, where the wedding has been strictly private, are sent out after the following style: mr. and mrs. richard earle announce the marriage of their daughter, guendolen, to mr. egbert ray cranston, tuesday, november nineteenth, . washington street. the before-given "at home" cards may be enclosed, or the necessary information conveyed by having engraved in the lower left hand corner of the sheet of note paper: at home, after december first, at washington street. another form of announcement is also used: egbert ray cranston. guendolen earle. married, tuesday, november nineteenth, . binghamton. with this form use "at home" cards, or engrave the street and number in the lower left hand corner of the announcement card. this form is permissible in any case, but is more frequently employed where there are neither parents nor relatives to send out the announcement. if the wedding should have taken place during a season of family mourning or misfortune, the bridegroom himself issues the following announcement: mr. and mrs. egbert ray cranston, washington street. these cards are large and square, and in the same envelope with them is enclosed a smaller card engraved with the maiden name of the bride: miss guendolen earle. wedding anniversaries. [illustration: _ ._ _ ._ _wooden wedding._ _mr. and mrs. theodore grant,_ _at home,_ _thursday evening, december fifth, ,_ _at half-past eight o'clock._ _ east thirteenth street._] in sending out invitations for the various anniversaries that pleasantly diversify the years of a long wedded life, the simplest form will always be found in the best taste. there are varied devices for rendering these invitations striking in effect, such as silvered and gilded cards for silver and golden weddings, thin wooden cards for the wooden wedding, etc., but good taste would indicate that none of these, not even gold and silver lettering (though this last is least objectionable of all), should be used. the large engraved "at home" card, or the small sheet of heavy note paper, also engraved, are the most elegant. "no presents received." the words, "no presents received," are sometimes engraved in the lower left hand corner of the note sheet, or card. a much-to-be-admired custom, since the multiplicity of invitations requiring gifts, is, in more cases than one, burdensome to the recipient. revise the visiting list. now, that it has become the custom to engage the services of an amanuensis to direct the invitations for a crush affair by the hundred, it would be well for every hostess to frequently revise her visiting list, in order that the relatives of lately deceased friends may not be pained by seeing the dear lost name included among the invitations of the family; also, this care is necessary to remove the names of those who have recently departed from the city, and those whose acquaintance is no longer desired. acceptances and regrets [illustration] the essence of all etiquette is to be found in the observance of the spirit of the golden rule. perhaps in no one point is the "do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you," more applicable than in the prompt acknowledgment of either a formal or a friendly invitation. this acknowledgment may be either denial or assent, but whatever the form, it is requisite that the proffered courtesy should be answered by a prompt and decisive acceptance or refusal. this is a duty owed by an invited guest to his prospective host or hostess and one that should never be neglected. answering an invitation. in accepting or declining an invitation close attention should be paid to the form in which it is written and the same style followed in the answer. for instance: should the invitation be formal, the answer should preserve the same degree of formality; while a friendly invitation in note form should meet with an acceptance or regret couched in the same terms. another rule to be rigidly observed is, that the acceptance or refusal must be written in the same person that characterized the invitation. for instance: if "mr. and mrs. algernon smith request the pleasure of the company of mr. and mrs. joseph bronson at dinner, etc.," with equal stateliness "mr. and mrs. joseph bronson accept with pleasure the kind invitation of mr. and mrs. algernon smith." to do otherwise would imply ignorance of the very rudiments of social or grammatical rules. a friendly note of invitation, beginning somewhat after this fashion: "mr. smith and i would be pleased to have you and mr. brown, etc.," would be accepted or declined in the same fashion and person, as: "mr. brown and i accept with pleasure your kind invitation, etc." to answer such an invitation with a formal acceptance, or regret, written in the third person, as given above, would display profound ignorance of social customs. an acceptance or regret, written in the first person, receives the signature of the writer, but one written in the third person remains unsigned. to sign it would produce a confusion of persons and be ungrammatical to the last degree. another error to be avoided is that of beginning in this fashion: "i accept with pleasure the kind invitation of mr. and mrs. john jones," this also producing a change of person altogether inadmissible. neither must one be betrayed into the mistake of using the words, "will accept," thus throwing the acceptance into the future tense, when, in reality, you _do_ accept, in the present tense, at the moment of writing. accepting a dinner invitation. incumbent upon us as it is to answer the majority of our invitations in either the affirmative or negative, there are degrees of necessity even here, for, sin as we may in all other particulars, there is an unwritten code like unto the laws of the medes and persians which declareth that the invitations to a dinner are not to be lightly set aside. first, an invitation to a dinner is the highest social compliment that a host and hostess can pay to those invited, and, second, the guests are limited in number and painstakingly arranged in congenial couples by the careful hostess. judge, then, of her disappointment, when, at the last moment, some delinquent sends in a hasty regret leaving little or no time to fill that terror of all dinner-givers, that skeleton at the feast, an empty chair. one such failure is sufficient to ruin the most carefully-arranged table and is an injury to host and hostess that only the occurrence of some unforeseen calamity can justify. [illustration: answering an invitation.] in answering an invitation it is well to repeat the date, as: "your kind invitation for tuesday, may fifth." this will give an opportunity, if any mistakes have been made in dates, to rectify them at once. this caution it would be well to observe in answering any invitation. answer decisively as well as promptly. do not, if there is a doubt as to your being able to attend, selfishly keep the lists open in your favor by suggesting that "you hope to have the pleasure," etc., or, if married, that "one of us will come." this is an injustice to those inviting you, who, to make a success of their entertainment, must know at once the number to be depended upon. say "yes" or "no" promptly and abide by your decision. to do this will, in case of refusal, give time to fill your place at table. accepting a dinner invitation. in accepting a dinner invitation the following form is very suitable. this, of course, presupposes that the invitation has also been written in the third person. (see invitations.) mr. and mrs. harvey pratt accept with pleasure the kind invitation of mr. and mrs. paul potter for dinner on tuesday, december fifteenth, at eight o'clock. abercrombie street. wednesday. a gentleman might respond thus: mr. fremont miller has much pleasure in accepting the very kind invitation of mr. and mrs. paul potter for dinner on tuesday, december fifteenth, at eight o'clock. union league club. wednesday. to answer a formal invitation carelessly and familiarly is to show a degree of disrespect to the sender, but, if the invitation be in note form, first person, answer in same fashion, it being usually safe to follow the style of invitation in either accepting or refusing the proffered pleasure. never "present one's compliments" in response to an invitation. it is entirely out of date; neither should one say "the _polite_ invitation of mr. john jones." all invitations are presupposed to be "polite." "your kind" or "very kind invitation" is a gracefully-turned and amply sufficient phrase for all occasions. declining a dinner invitation. an unexplained regret is often (as before mentioned) wounding to the feelings of a sensitive person, leaving at times the impression that one did not care to come. this can always be avoided by particularizing the cause of refusal. a plea of expected absence, a previous engagement to dine elsewhere, a recent bereavement, or sudden illness in the family, are each of them good and sufficient reasons for non-acceptance and should always be mentioned. thus, in reply to a formal dinner invitation, a "regret" might be sent in the following terms: mr. and mrs. harvey patten sincerely regret that, owing to the sudden illness of their daughter eleanor they will be deprived of the pleasure of accepting the very kind invitation of mr. and mrs. paul potter for dinner on tuesday, december fifteenth. abercrombie street. wednesday. this form of refusal will be found suitable for all formal occasions, varying the name of the entertainment and the cause for non-acceptance to suit the circumstances. persons in mourning. invitations to those in mourning should be sent as a matter of course, except during the first few weeks of deep bereavement, when their sorrows are not to be intruded upon by the gayeties of the outer world. after this first season of sorrow, invitations, which neither custom nor their own feelings permit them to accept, should be sent, that they may know that they are not forgotten in their solitude. to these there is always given the privilege of declining all invitations without any specified cause therefor, their black-bordered stationery showing all too plainly the sad reason that prompted their refusal. they should then send their cards (black-bordered) by mail enclosed in two envelopes. these will take the place of a personal call and should be the same in number. it may be mentioned here that while people in deep mourning are not usually invited to dinners or luncheons, it is customary for them to receive invitations to all weddings and other social gatherings, and though they may not accept, still it is gratifying for them to know that they are remembered in their seclusion. [illustration: a letter of condolence.] addressing the answer. the answer to an invitation should always be addressed to the person in whose name it is sent. if "mr. and mrs. richard roe request the pleasure," etc., address the answer to "mr. and mrs. richard roe." if "mrs. richard roe is at home" on a certain date, address the reply to her alone. in case of wedding invitations, address all answers to the parents of the bride, in whose name they are sent out, never to the bride, although she may be your only personal acquaintance in the family, the civility being due to the issuers of the invitation. this is customary in the case of all invitations. wedding invitations. wedding invitations are usually thought to require no answer unless it be to a sit-down wedding breakfast. in this case the same exactness in reply and the same form is demanded as for a dinner invitation. if the invitation is extended to friends at a distance and presupposes an intention to entertain the recipients for any length of time, the obligation for speedy reply is equally necessary. if the invitation is given by an informal note, as is the case with some very quiet weddings, an answer must always be returned and in the same note form. this attention is demanded by courtesy. to a large crush wedding a regret, accompanied or not by a gift, may be sent if desired; an acceptance is not necessary. where the invitations are to the church only, they are amply answered by sending or leaving cards at the house. to receive a card stating that the wedded pair will be "at home" on certain dates, means that they desire to continue their acquaintance with the parties thus invited, who should either call in person or send cards promptly. wedding anniversaries. anniversary invitations require an answer, thus giving a very pleasant opportunity for congratulating the happy couple. the following forms are suitable: mr. and mrs. arthur cummings accept with pleasure the kind invitation of mr. and mrs. kennet wade for thursday evening, october tenth, and present their warmest congratulations on their silver wedding anniversary. church street. thursday. for a refusal: mr. and mrs. arthur cummings sincerely regret that, owing to an unexpected absence from town, they are unable to accept the very kind invitation of mr. and mrs. kennet wade for thursday evening, october tenth, but beg to present to them their warmest congratulations on this occasion of their silver wedding anniversary. church street. wednesday. the same formulæ in answering will apply to any of the anniversary festivities. theater and opera parties. these parties are frequently made up on rather short notice and the invitations are then sent to the house by special messenger who awaits the reply, which must be written at once, that the lady or gentleman giving the entertainment may be sure of a certain number to fill the box or stalls, engaged for the evening. occasionally, when the party is given by a gentleman, he takes a carriage and gives out the invitations in person when a verbal answer is returned. luncheons and suppers. invitations for these are written in the same form as for a dinner, merely substituting the word "luncheon" or "supper" for "dinner," and should be accepted or refused in precisely the same style. answers also should be sent with the same promptness that the hostess may be certain of arranging her table satisfactorily. other invitations. other invitations, aside from those already specified in this department, scarcely demand an answer, except they bear the words: "the favor of an answer is requested," or the initials, "r.s.v.p." simple "at home" affairs never need an answer, though cards must always be sent, or left in person, immediately afterward. garden parties, where they are held at any distance from the city and carriages are to be sent to convey the guests thither, always require an answer; this, however, is usually indicated upon the card. refusing after acceptance. should it unfortunately occur, after accepting an invitation, that, by one of the sorrowful happenings so often marring our best laid plans, we are prevented from fulfilling our promise, let the regret sent be prompt, that your hostess, especially if the entertainment be a dinner or luncheon may possibly, even at the eleventh hour, be able to supply the vacancy. make it explanatory as well, that she may feel positive that no mere whim has caused the disarrangement of her plans. what not to do. never write the word "accepts," "regrets" or "declines" upon your visiting card and send in lieu of a written note. to do so is not only an insult to your hostess but a mark as well of your own ill-breeding. an invitation, which is always an honor and implies the best that your host is able to offer, should always receive the courtesy of a civil reply. etiquette of courtship and marriage [illustration] "courtship," according to sterne, "consists in a number of quiet attentions, not so pointed as to alarm, nor so vague as not to be understood." in this little quotation lies the spirit and the letter of all etiquette regarding courtship. the passion of love generally appearing to everyone save the man who feels it, so entirely disproportionate to the value of the object, so impossible to be entered into by any outside individual, that any strong expressions of it appear ridiculous to a third person. for this reason it is that all extravagance of feeling should be carefully repressed as an offense against good breeding. man was made for woman, and woman equally for man. how shall they treat each other? how shall they come to understand their mutual relations and duties? it is lofty work to write upon this subject what ought to be written. mistakes, fatal blunders, hearts and lives wrecked, homes turned into bear-gardens, tears, miseries, blasted hopes, awful tragedies--can you name the one most prolific cause of all these? if our young people were taught what they ought to know--if it were told them from infancy up--if it were drilled into them and they were made to understand what now is all a mystery to them--a dark, vague, unriddled mystery--hearts would be happier, homes would be brighter, lives would be worth living and the world would be better. [illustration: "good night! good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, that i shall say good night till it be morrow."] [illustration: a polite escort.] this is now the matter--matter grave and serious enough--which we have in hand. there are gems of wisdom founded on health, morality, happiness, which should be put within reach of every household in our whole broad land. it is a most important, yet neglected subject. people are squeamish, cursed with mock modesty, ashamed to speak with their lips what their creator spoke through their own minds and bodies when he formed them. it is time such nonsense--nonsense shall we say?--rather say it is time such fatal folly were withered and cursed by the sober common sense and moral duty of universal society. courtship! its theme, how delightful! its memories and associations, how charming! its luxuries the most luxurious proffered to mortals! its results how far reaching, and momentous! no mere lover's fleeting bauble, but life's very greatest work! none are equally portentous, for good and evil. errors of love-making. god's provisions for man's happiness are boundless and endless. how great are the pleasures of sight, motion, breathing! how much greater those of mind! yet a right love surpasses them all; and can render us all happier than our utmost imaginations can depict; and a wrong more miserable. right love-making is more important than right selection; because it affects conjugal life for the most. men and women need knowledge concerning it more than touching anything else. their fatal errors show their almost universal ignorance concerning it. that most married discords originate in wrong love-making instead of selection, is proved by love usually declining; while adaptation remains the same. right courtship will harmonize natural discordants, much more concordants, still more those already in love; which only some serious causes can rupture. the whole power of this love element is enlisted in its perpetuity, as are all the self-interests of both. as nature's health provisions are so perfect that only its great and long-continued outrage can break it; so her conjugal are so numerous and perfect that but for outrageous violation of her love laws all who once begin can and will grow more and more affectionate and happy every day. any man who can begin to elicit any woman's love, can perfectly infatuate her more and more, solely by courting her right; and all women who once start a man's love--no very difficult achievement--can get out of him, and do with him, anything possible she pleases. the charming and fascinating power of serpents over birds is as nothing compared with that a woman can wield over a man, and he over her. ladies, recall your love hey-day. you had your lover perfectly spell-bound. he literally knew not what he did or would do. with what alacrity he sprang to indulge your every wish, at whatever cost, and do exactly as you desired! if you had only courted him just right, he would have continued to grow still more so till now. this is equally true of a man's power over every woman who once begins to love him. what would you give to again wield that same bewitching wand? how to carry on courtship. intuition, our own selfhood, is nature's highest teacher, and infallible; and tells all, by her "still, small voice within," whether and just wherein they are making love right or wrong. every false step forewarns all against itself; and great is their fall who stumble. courtship has its own inherent consciousness, which must be kept inviolate. then throw yourself, o courting youth, upon your own interior sense of propriety and right, as to both the beginning and conducting of courtship, after learning all you can from these pages, and have no fears as to results, but quietly bide them, in the most perfect assurance of their happy eventuality! "what can i do or omit to advance my suit? prevent dismissal? make my very best impression? guarantee acceptance? touch my idol's heart? court just right?" this is what all true courters say. cultivate and manifest whatever qualities you would awaken. you inspire in the one you court the precise feeling and traits you yourself experience. this law effects this result. every faculty in either awakens itself in the other. this is just as sure as gravity itself. hence your success must come from _within_, depends upon yourself, not the one courted. study the specialties, likes and dislikes in particular, of the one courted, and humor and adapt yourself to them. be extra careful not to prejudice him or her against you by awakening any faculty in reverse. thus whatever rouses the other's resistance against you, antagonizes all the other faculties, and proportionally turns love for you into hatred. whatever wounds ambition reverses all the other feelings, to your injury; what delights it, turns them in your favor. all the faculties create, and their action constitutes human nature; which lovers will do right well to study. to give an illustration: a case to the point. an elderly man with points in his favor, having selected a woman eighteen years younger, but most intelligent and feminine, had two young rivals, each having more points in their favor, and came to his final test. she thought much of having plenty of money. they saw they could "cut him out" by showing her that he was poor; she till then thinking his means ample. all four met around her table, and proved his poverty. his rivals retired, sure that they had made "_his_ cake dough," leaving him with her. it was his turning-point. he addressed himself right to her _affections_, saying little about money matters, but protesting an amount of devotion for her to which she knew they were strangers; and left his suit right on this one point; adding: "you know i can make money; know how intensely i esteem, admire, idolize, and love you. will not my admitted greater affection, with my earnings, do more for you than they with more money, but less love?" her clear head saw the point. her heart melted into his. she said "yes." he triumphed by this affectional spirit alone over their much greater availability. manifesting the domestic affections and virtues, a warm, gushing friendly nature, fondness for children and home, inspires a man's love most of all, while evincing talents by a man peculiarly enamors woman. relations, you shall not interfere, where even parents may not. make your own matches, and let others make theirs; especially if you have bungled your own. one _such_ bungle is one too many. the parties are betrothed. their marriage is "fore-ordained" by themselves, its only rightful umpires, which all right-minded outsiders will try to promote, not prevent. how despicable to separate husbands and wives! yet is not parting those married by a love-_spirit_, equally so? its mere legal form can but increase its validity, not create it. marriage is a divine institution, and consists in their own personal betrothal. hence breaking up a true love-union before its legal consummation, is just as bad as parting loving husband and wife; which is monstrous. all lovers who allow it are its wicked partakers. choice of associates. the first point to be considered on this subject is a careful choice of associates, which will often, in the end, save future unhappiness and discomfort, since, as goldsmith so truthfully puts it, "love is often an involuntary passion placed upon our companions without our consent, and frequently conferred without even our previous esteem." this last most unhappy state of affairs may, to a great extent, be avoided by this careful choosing of companions. especially is this true on the part of the lady, since, from the nature and constitution of society, an unsuitable acquaintance, friendship, or alliance, is more embarrassing and more painful for the woman than the man. as in single life an undesirable acquaintance is more derogatory to a woman than to a man, so in married life, the woman it is who ventures most, "for," as jeremy taylor writes, "she hath no sanctuary in which to retire from an evil husband; she may complain to god as do the subjects of tyrants and princes, but otherwise she hath no appeal in the causes of unkindness." first steps. to a man who has become fascinated with some womanly ideal, we would say, if the acquaintanceship be very recent, and he, as yet, a stranger to her relatives, that he should first consider in detail his position and prospects in life, and judge whether or not they are such as would justify him in striving to win the lady's affections, and later on her hand in marriage. assured upon this point, and let no young man think that a fortune is necessary for the wooing of any woman worth the winning, let him then gain the needful introductions through some mutual friend to her parents or guardians. if, on the other hand, it is a long acquaintance that has ripened into admiration, this latter formality will be unnecessary. as to the lady, her position is negative to a great extent. yet it is to be presumed that her preferences, though unexpressed, are decided, and, if the attentions of a gentleman are agreeable, her manners will be apt to indicate, in some degree, the state of her mind. prudence, however, does, or should, warn her not to accept too marked attentions from a man of whose past life she knows nothing, and of whose present circumstances she is equally ignorant. character. there is one paramount consideration too often overlooked and too late bewailed in many a ruined home, and that is the character of the man who seeks to win a woman's hand. parents and guardians cannot be too careful in this regard, and young women themselves should, by refusing such associates, avoid all danger of contracting such ties. wealth, nor family rank, nor genius, availeth aught if the character of the man be flawed. let parents teach their daughters and let girls understand for themselves that happiness, or peace, in married life is impossible where a man is, in any wise, dissipated, or liable to be overcome by any of the fashionable vices of the day. better go down to your grave a "forlorn spinster" than marry such a man. disposition. as to temper or disposition, the man or woman can easily gain some insight into the respective peculiarities of another's temperament by a little quiet observation. if the gentleman be courteous and careful in his attentions to his mother and sisters, and behave with ease and consideration toward all women, irrespective of age, rank, or present condition, she may feel that her first estimate was a correct one. on the other hand, should he show disrespect toward women as a class, sneer at sacred things, evince an inclination for expensive pleasures in advance of his means, or for low amusements or companionship; be cruel to the horse he drives, or display an absence of all energy in his business pursuits, then is it time to gently, but firmly, repel all nearer advances on his part. as to the gentleman, it will be well for him also to watch carefully as to the disposition of the lady and her conduct in her own family. if she be attentive and respectful to her parents, kind and affectionate toward her brothers and sisters, not easily ruffled in temper and with inclination to enjoy the pleasures of home; cheerful, hopeful and charitable in disposition, then may he feel, indeed, that he has a prize before him well worth the winning. if, however, she should display a strong inclination towards affectation and flirtation; be extremely showy or else careless in her attire, frivolous in her tastes and eager for admiration, he may rightly conclude that very little home happiness is to be expected from her companionship. trifling. a true gentleman will never confine his attentions exclusively to one lady unless he has an intention of marriage. to do so exposes her to all manner of conjecture, lays an embargo on the formation of other acquaintances, may very seriously compromise her happiness, and by after withdrawal frequently causes her the severest mortification. hence a gentleman with no thought of marriage is in honor bound to make his attentions to ladies as general as possible. still more reprehensible is the conduct of the man who insinuates himself into the affections of a young girl by every protestation and avowal possible, save that which would be binding upon himself, and then withdraws his attentions with the boastful consciousness that he has not committed himself. again, the young lady who willfully, knowingly, deliberately, draws on a man to place hand and heart at her disposal simply for the pleasure of refusing him and thus adding one more name to her list of rejected proposals, is utterly unworthy the name of woman. etiquette of making and receiving gifts. on the question of gifts there is a point of etiquette to be observed. gentlemen, as a rule, do not offer ladies presents, save of fruits, flowers, or confections; which gifts, notwithstanding that a small fortune may be lavished upon their purchase, are supposed, in all probability from their perishable character, to leave no obligation resting upon the lady. should the conversation, however, turn upon some new book or musical composition, which the lady has not seen, the gentleman may, with perfect propriety, say, "i wish that you could see such or such a work and, if you will permit, i should be pleased to send you a copy." it is then optional with the lady to accept or refuse. should a gentleman persist in offering other gifts there must be no secrecy about it. she should take early opportunity of saying, in the presence of her father and mother, "i am very much obliged to you for that ring, pin (or other gift) which you were so kind as to offer me the other day, and i shall be happy to accept it if papa or mamma does not object." if the lady is positive in her objections to receiving gifts, it is easy to say, "i thank you for the kindness but i never take expensive presents;" or, "mamma never permits me to accept expensive presents." these refusals are always to be taken by the gentleman in good part. where a present has been unadvisedly accepted, it is perfectly proper for the mother to return it with thanks, saying, "i think my daughter rather young to accept such expensive gifts." after an engagement is formally made the etiquette of gifts is somewhat altered, though even then expensive presents, unless it be the engagement ring, are not in the best taste. these should be reserved for the marriage gifts. proposals of marriage. the proposal itself is a subject so closely personal in its nature that each man must be a law unto himself in the matter, and time and opportunity will be his only guides to success, unless, mayhap, his lady-love be the braver of the two and help him gently over the hardest part, for there be men and men; some who brook not "no" for an answer, and some that a moment's hesitation on the part of the one sought would seal their lips forever. a woman must always remember that a proposal of marriage is the highest honor that a man can pay her, and, if she must refuse it, to do so in such fashion as to spare his feelings as much as possible. if she be a true and well-bred woman, both proposal and refusal will be kept a profound secret from every one save her parents. it is the least balm she can offer to the wounded pride of the man who has chosen her from out all women to bear his name and to reign in his home. a wise woman can almost always prevent matters from coming to the point of a declaration, and, by her actions and her prompt acceptance of the attentions of others, should strive to show the true state of her feelings. a gentleman should usually take "no" for an answer unless he be of so persevering a disposition as to be determined to take the fort by siege; or unless the "no" was so undecided in its tone as to give some hope of finding true the poet's words: "he gave them but one tongue to say us, 'nay,' and two fond eyes to grant." on the gentleman's part, a decided refusal should be received as calmly as possible, and his resolve should be in no way to annoy the cause of all his pain. if mere indifference be or seem to be the origin of the refusal, he may, after a suitable length of time, press his suit once more; but if an avowed or evident preference for another be the reason, it becomes imperative that he should at once withdraw from the field. any reason that the lady may, in her compassion, see fit to give him as cause for her refusal, should ever remain his inviolable secret. [illustration: social pastime on return voyage.] [illustration: declined with regrets.] as whatever grows has its natural period for maturing, so has love. at engagement you have merely selected, so that your familiarity should be only intellectual, not affectional. you are yet more acquaintances than companions. as sun changes from midnight darkness into noonday brilliancy, and heats, lights up, and warms _gradually_, and as summer "lingers in the lap of spring;" so marriage should dally in the lap of courtship. nature's adolescence of love should never be crowded into a premature marriage. the more personal, the more impatient it is; yet to establish its platonic aspect takes more time than is usually given it; so that undue haste puts it upon the carnal plane, which soon cloys, then disgusts. unbecoming haste. coyness and modesty always accompany female love, which involuntarily shrink from close masculine contact until its mental phase is sufficiently developed to overrule the antagonistic intimacies of marriage. besides, why curtail the luxuries of courtship? should haste to enjoy the lusciousness of summer engulf the delights of spring? the pleasures of courtship are unsurpassed throughout life, and quite too great to be curtailed by hurrying marriage. and enhancing or diminishing them redoubles or curtails those of marriage a hundredfold more. a happy courtship promotes conjugal felicity more than anything else whatever. a lady, asked why she didn't marry, since she had so many making love to her, replied: "because being courted is too great a luxury to be spoilt by marrying." no man should wait to make his pile. two must _acquire_ a competence conjointly, in order fully to really _enjoy_ it together. this alone can give full zest to whatever pleasures it produces. a formal proffer of marriage naturally follows a man's selection and decision as to whom he will marry. consent to canvass their mutual adaptations implies consent to marry, if all is found satisfactory; yet a final test and consummation now become necessary, both to bring this whole matter to a focus, and allow both to state, and obviate or waive, those objections which must needs exist on both sides; including any improvements possible in either. how to deal with objections. the best time to state and waive or remove all objections, seeming and real, not already adjusted, is at his proposal, and her acceptance. a verbal will do, but a written is much better, by facilitating future reference. a long future awaits their marriage; hence committing this its initial point to writing, so that both can look back to it, is most desirable. and he can propose, and she accept, much better when alone, and they have all their faculties under full control, than verbally, perhaps, when excited. those same primal reasons for reducing all other contracts to writing obtain doubly in reference to marriage. you who fear awkwardness on paper, remember that true human nature always appears well, even when poorly dressed. a diamond is no less brilliant because set in clay. mode is nothing, reality everything. all needed to appear well is to _feel_ right, and express naturally what is felt. saying plainly what you have to say, is all required. the acceptance or rejection should also be unequivocal, or any contingencies stated, and waived if minor, but if they can neither be obviated nor compromised, should terminate their relations, that both may look elsewhere. if any bones of contention exist, now is the time to inter them finally, and to take the initiatory steps for perfecting both in each other's eyes. bear in mind that as yet your relations are still those of business merely, because neither has acquired or conceded any right to love or be loved. without pretending to give model letters of proposal, acceptance, or rejection, because varying circumstances will vary each _ad infinitum_, the following may serve as samples from which to work: "much esteemed friend: as we have agreed to canvass our mutual adaptations for marriage, and my own mind is fully made up, a final decision now becomes necessary. "what i have learned of and from you confirms that high opinion of you which prompted my selection of you, and inspires a desire to consummate it. your pleasing manner and mode of saying and doing things; your intelligence, taste, prudence, kindness, and many other excellencies, inspire my highest admiration. "will you let me love what i so much admire? "but my affections are sacred. i can bestow them only on one who _reciprocates_ them; will bestow them upon you, if you will bestow yours on me; not otherwise; for only _mutual_ love can render either happy. i can and will love you alone, with all my heart, provided you can and will love only me, with all of yours. do you accord me this privilege, on this condition, for life, forever? i crave to make you my wife; to live with and for you, and proffer you my whole being, with honest, assiduous toil, fidelity to business, what talents i possess, and all i can do to contribute to your creature comforts. do you accord me this privilege, on this condition? may i enshrine you as queen of my life? "say wherein you find me faulty, or capable of improvement in your eyes, and i will do my utmost, consistently with my conscience, to render myself worthy and acceptable to you. "i wish some things were different in you--that you had better health, arose earlier, were less impulsive, knew more about keeping house, etc.; yet these minor matters sink into insignificance in comparison with your many excellences, and especially that whole-souled affection obviously inherent in you. "deliberate fully, for this is a life affair, and if, in order to decide judiciously, you require to know more of me, ask me, or ---- and ----. please reply as soon as you can well decide. "decline unless you accept cordially, and can love me truly and wholly; but if you can and will reciprocate my proffered affection, say yes, and indicate your own time and mode of our marriage. meanwhile, with the highest regards, i am, and hope ever to remain, "yours truly, "a.b." a true woman could give a better answer than the following, which does not claim to be a model. it is hardly time yet for a gushing love-letter, or we would not profane this sacred subject by making the attempt; yet should like to receive one in spirit somewhat as follows: "dear sir: your proffer of your hand and heart in marriage has been duly received, and its important contents fully considered. "i accept your offer: and on its only condition, that i _reciprocate your love_, which i do completely; and hereby both offer my own hand and heart in return, and consecrate my entire being, soul and body, all i am and can become, to you alone; both according you the 'privilege' you crave of loving me, and 'craving' a like one in return. "thank heaven that this matter is settled; that you are in very deed mine, while i am yours, to love and be loved by, live and be lived with and for; and that my gushing affections have a final resting-place on one every way so worthy of the fullest reciprocal sympathy and trust. "the preliminaries of our marriage we will arrange whenever we meet, which i hope may be soon. but whether sooner or later, or you are present or absent, i now consider myself as wholly yours, and you all mine; and both give and take the fullest privilege of cherishing and expressing for you that whole-souled love i find even now gushing up and calling for expression. fondly hoping to hear from and see you soon and often, i remain wholly yours forever, "c.d." sealing the vow. the vow and its tangible witnesses come next. all agreements require to be attested; and this as much more than others as it is the most obligatory. both need its unequivocal and mutual mementos, to be cherished for all time to come as its perpetual witnesses. this vow of each to the other can neither be made too strong, nor held too sacred. if calling god to witness will strengthen your mutual adjuration, swear by him and his throne, or by whatever else will render it inviolable, and commit it to writing, each transcribing a copy for the other as your most sacred relics, to be enshrined in your "holy of holies." two witnesses are required, one for each. a ring for her and locket for him, containing the likeness of both, as always showing how they now look, or any keepsake both may select, more or less valuable, to be handed down to their posterity, will answer. your mode of conducting your future affairs should now be arranged. though implied in selection, yet it must be specified in detail. both should arrange your marriage relations; say what each desires to do, and have done; and draw out a definite outline plan of the various positions you desire to maintain towards each other. your future home must be discussed: whether you will board, or live in your own house, rented, or owned, or built, and after what pattern; or with either or which of your parents. and it is vastly important that wives determine most as to their domiciles; their internal arrangements, rooms, furniture, management; respecting which they are consulted quite too little, yet cannot well be too much. family rules, as well as national, state, corporate, financial, must be established. they are most needed, yet least practiced in marriage. without them, all must be chaotic. ignoring them is a great but common marital error. the friends wisely make family method cardinal. a full understanding. your general treatment of each other now especially requires to be mutually agreed upon. each should say, "i should like to treat and be treated by you thus, but not so; and let you do this but not that;" and both mutually agree on a thousand like minor points, better definitely arranged at first than left for future contention; each making requisitions, conceding privileges, and stipulating for any fancies, idols, or "reserved rights." differences must needs arise, which cannot be adjusted too soon. those constitutionally inherent in each should be adjusted in love's _early_ stages; it matters less how, than whether to your mutual satisfaction. or if this is impossible, "agree to disagree;" but settle on something. a concessionary spirit is indispensable, and inheres in love. neither should insist, but both concede, in all things; each making, not demanding sacrifices. the one who loves most will yield to oblige most. what course will make both happiest should overrule all your mutual relations. write down and file all. your present decisions, subject to mutual changes and amendments, will become more and more important for future reference, as time rolls on, by enabling each to correct both; for our own changes make us think others have changed. a mutual diary is desirable; for incidents now seemingly trivial, may yet become important. important trifles. see or correspond with each other often. love will not bear neglect. nothing kills it equally. in this it is most exacting. it will not, should not, be second in anything. "first or nothing," is its motto. meet as often as possible. after its fires have once been lit, they must be perpetually resupplied with their natural fuel; else they die down, go out, or go elsewhere; and are harder to rekindle than to light at first. a splendid young man, son of one of new england's most talented and pious divines, endowed with one of the very best of organisms, physical and phrenological, having selected his mate, and plighted their mutual vows, being the business manager of a large manufactory, and obliged to defend several consecutive lawsuits for patent-right infringements, neglected for weeks to write to his betrothed, presupposing, of course, that all was right. this offended her ladyship, and allowed evil-minded meddlers to sow seeds of alienation in her mind; persuade her to send him his dismissal, and accept a marriage proposal from another. as he told his mournful story, he seemed like a sturdy oak riven by lightning and torn by whirlwinds; its foliage scorched, bark stripped, limbs tattered, even its very rootlets scathed; yet standing, a stern, proud, defiant, resolute wreck. a gushing tear he manfully tried but failed to suppress. his lips quivered and voice faltered. perceiving his impending fate, he seemed to dread his future more than present; and hesitated between self-abandonment, and a merely mechanical, objectless, business life. in attempting his salvation, by proffering advice to the "broken-hearted," he respectfully but firmly declined; deliberately preferring old-bachelorship, with all its dearths, of which he seemed fully conscious. he felt as if he had been deeply wronged. yet was not he the _first_ practically to repudiate? he suffered terribly, because he had sinned grievously, not by commission, but omission. he felt the deepest, fullest, manliest love, and revelled in anticipations of their future union, but did not _express_ it; which was to her as if he had not felt it; whereas, had he saved but one minute per week to write lovingly, "i long to be with you, and love you still," or, "business does not, cannot diminish my fondness," he would have saved her broken vows, and his broken heart. mingling other enjoyments with love, by going together to picnics and parties, sleigh-rides and mayings, concerts, and lectures, marvellously cements the affections. love feeds on love. meet in your most attractive habiliments of mind and person. french ladies will see their affianced only when arrayed in their best toilet. yet mental charms vastly surpass millinery. neither can render yourselves too lovely. express affectionate fondness in your visits and letters; the more the better, so that you keep it a sentiment, not debase it by animal passion. it is still establishing its rootlets, like young corn, instead of growing. allow no amatory excitement, no frenzied, delirious intoxication with it; for its violence, like every other, must react only to exhaust and paralyze itself by its own excesses. affianced young man, life has its epochs, which revolutionize it for good or bad. you are now in one. you have heretofore affiliated much with men; formed habits of smoking or chewing tobacco; indulged in late suppers; abused yourself in various ways; perhaps been on sprees. now is your time to take a new departure from whatever is evil to all that is good and pure. break up most of your masculine associations; and affiliate chiefly with your affianced. be out no more nights. let your new responsibilities and relations brace you up against their temptations; and, if these are not sufficient, your prospective spouse will help. no other aid in resisting temptation and inspiring to good equals that of a loving, loved woman. break off from your cronyisms, clubs, societies, all engagements except such as mean imperative, cold-blooded business. your new ties furnish an excellent excuse. all your spare time and small change are wanted for _her_. to give to bad habits the time and money due to her and setting up in life, is outrageous. bend everything to your new relations, them to nothing. now's your time to turn over a new leaf, and turn all the angles, corners and right-about faces needed. affianced maiden, you have some departures to take and corners to turn. your life has till now been frivolous, but has now become serious. you have no more need of toilet fineries; for "your market is made," and you have work on hand far more important, namely, fitting yourself for your new duties. find out what they demand of you, and set right about making a premium wife and mother. both begin life anew. forgetting the past, plant and sow now what you would gather and become always. the best of all possessions. woman is man's choicest treasure. that is the most precious which confers the most happiness. she is adapted to render him incomparably happier than any other terrestrial possession. he can enjoy luscious peaches, melting pears, crack horses, dollars and other things innumerable; but a well-sexed man can enjoy woman most of all. he is poor indeed, and takes little pleasure in this life, be his possessions and social position what they may, who takes no pleasure with her. all description utterly fails to express the varied and exultant enjoyments god has engrafted into a right sexual state. only few experiences can attest how many and great, from infancy to death, and throughout eternity itself. all god could do he has done to render each sex superlatively happy in the other. of all his beautiful and perfect work, this is the most beautiful and perfect. of all his benignant devices, this is his most benign. all the divine attributes, all human happiness, converge in male and female adaptations to mutual enjoyments. each is correspondingly precious to the other. man should prize many things, yet woman is his pearl of greatest price. he should preserve, cherish, husband many life possessions, but woman the most. he has many jewels in his crown of glory, but she is his gem-jewel, his diadem. what masculine luxury equals making women in general, and the loved one in particular, happy? the source of miseries. beginning and conducting courtship as this chapter directs, avoiding the errors and following the directions it specifies, will just as surely render all superlatively happy as sun will rise to-morrow. scan their sense. do they not expound nature's love-initiating and consummating ordinances? are they not worthy of being put into practice? discordants, can you not trace many of your antagonisms and miseries to their ignorant violation? parents, what are they worth to put into your children's hands, to forewarn them against carelessly, ignorantly, spoiling their marriage? young ladies, what are they worth to you, as showing you how to so treat your admirers as to gain and redouble their heart's devotion? young men, what are these warnings and teachings worth to you? god in his natural laws will bless all who practice, curse all who violate them. the conduct during engagement on the part of the gentleman should be marked by the utmost courtesy toward and confidence in the woman of his choice; a state of feeling which she should fully reciprocate. in public their behavior toward one another should not be markedly different from that displayed by them toward other men and women of their acquaintance; save that the bridegroom-elect should be on the watch that not the slightest wish of the lady be unfulfilled. as for the lady, while she is not expected to debar herself from accepting the customary courtesies extended by the gentlemen of her acquaintance, a slight reserve should mark her conduct in accepting them. at all places of amusement or entertainment she should appear either in the company of her _fiancé_, or that of some relative. she should never captiously take offense at her _fiancé's_ showing the same attention to other ladies that she, in her turn, is willing to accept from other gentlemen, and she should take the same pains to please his taste in trifles that he does to gratify her slightest wish. this does not mean, though, that in the selfishness and blindness of love--and love is very blind and selfish sometimes--she is to shut herself up to his companionship at all times, excluding him from the family circle of which he is so soon to become a member, and "pairing off" on all occasions, thus rendering both the mark for silly jestings. how to cherish love. but, in sober matter-of-fact, that little ring of gold does not mean utter blindness. it does not mean that she is to devote her evenings exclusively to the chosen one, ignoring her family entirely. it does not mean that she is to accept valuable presents of all kinds at his hands, to expect him to give up all his friends for her sake, nor to confide all the secrets of the household to his keeping, but, as one wise woman says, to "guard herself in word and deed; hold his love in the best way possible; tie it firmly with the blue ribbon of hope, and never let it be eaten away by the little fox who destroys so many loving ties, and who is called familiarity." neither is this counsel to be deemed over-cautious, since, alas! even "engagements" are sometimes broken in this uncertain world, and surely there is no womanly woman that would not in such an event reflect gladly, as she took up her life once more at the old point, that she had remembered these things. a domineering, jealous disposition on either side before marriage is not the best possible guarantee for after happiness, and if these traits are clearly shown during an engagement, the individual who escapes from such thraldom before it is too late has shown conclusively that discretion which is, at times, the better part of valor. conduct toward parents. the gentleman should exercise some tact in regard to his conduct toward the family of his betrothed. marked attention should be shown toward the lady's mother. he should accommodate himself as much as possible to the wishes, habits and ways of the household, and not being, as yet, a member of the family, he should not presume to show an intrusive familiarity of conversation. the lady, on her part, should strive to show consideration, friendliness, and a desire to please the parents of her husband-that-is-to-be. thus both will unite in the endeavor to overcome that loving jealousy so natural on the part of those who see the claims of another grown paramount in the heart of one of their number, and feel that these new links are fast becoming stronger than ties of blood and relationship. the respective families should meet these advances with all kindness, and should also endeavor, in view of the new union pending between them, to make, if this be necessary, one another's acquaintance as soon as convenient. length of engagements. engagements should not be entered upon prematurely, a certain degree of acquaintanceship proving no mean preparation for an arrangement of this nature. but when an engagement is once formed it should not, in the majority of cases, be of an undue length. this is a matter to be settled by the wishes or the circumstances of the contracting parties. it is oftimes the measure of wisdom, where the obstacle is lack of fortune, to risk some degree of deprivation, rather than submit to a long-protracted engagement; the man, as head of the new home, finding a fresh motive for ambitious striving, and both parties being preserved from that coolness of feeling too attendant upon years of waiting. no homes are happier than those constructed on the principle of economy and patient effort. broken engagements. not unfrequently does it occur that circumstances arise that render the dissolution of an engagement inevitable, and, as such a course, unless mutual, of necessity involves an injury to the feelings of one party, great care and delicacy should be employed in approaching the subject. if the occasion should arise on the lady's side, it must be remembered that she is not bound to declare any other reason than her own sweet will. it is better, however, for reasons to be frankly given, that the step may not be attributed to mere caprice on her part. on the side of the man the reasons must be strong, indeed, that can justify him in breaking a solemn engagement sought of his own free will, and urged by him upon the object of his choice. by thus releasing himself he not unfrequently leaves the lady in an embarrassing position before the public, not to mention the possible injury that may be inflicted upon the deepest feelings of her heart. if the cause should arise from any fault on the part of the lady, a man of honor will ever preserve the strictest silence on the subject. if from sudden failure in his own fortunes he should feel himself in duty bound to relinquish his hope of present happiness lest he selfishly drag another down to penury, let the reason be carefully and clearly explained. at the conclusion of an engagement let every gift, including the engagement ring, and all photographs and letters that have been exchanged between the two, be promptly returned by each that as little as possible may remain to remind of the days that are done. it is especially a point of honor on the gentleman's part to retain nothing that the lady may have given, or written, him. etiquette of married life. marriage, to the elect, may be fitly termed a state of grace, but without a close observance of all the courtesies that tend to uplift everyday life in some degree above the narrowness of mere existence it may but too easily become what the old cynic declared it to be when he wrote, "marriage is a feast in which the grace is sometimes better than the dinner." mutual confidence and mutual respect are the two principal factors in the case. without these there can be none of that harmony so necessary to happiness in the state matrimonial. and not only this, but they should strive to be mutually entertaining. the pains they took during their engagement to be agreeable to one another at a time when they were by no means entirely dependent upon themselves for companionship, would surely not be amiss in rendering pleasant the years, and it may be decades of years, during which they must be to a great extent dependent upon each other for entertainment. the young man who spent so much time at the home of a certain lady that he was finally asked why, if he was in love with her, he did not marry her, uttered a sad truth when he answered, "ah, but where then should i pass my evenings?" a reflection upon the agreeableness of married life that might easily be avoided by the exercise of care and tact on both sides. the art of agreeableness. philip gilbert hammerton, in his _intellectual life_, wisely suggests: "a married couple are clearly aware that, in the course of a few years, their society is sure to become mutually uninteresting unless something is done. what is that something? every author who succeeds, takes the trouble to renew his mind by fresh knowledge, new thoughts. so, is it not at least worth while to do as much to preserve the interest of marriage?" the wife who dresses for her husband's sake, who reads that she may qualify herself for conversation with him, who makes him the chief end of her cares, and the husband who brings home from the outside world some of its life and animation to share with her, who has a loving interest in all that she has done for his pleasure, and, if wealth be a stranger at their door, stands ready to lift the heaviest burdens from her shoulders, have solved for themselves the problem of married happiness, and found it to be a condition wherein every joy is doubled and every sorrow halved. duty toward one another. let the wife have no confidant as to the little shortcomings of her husband, over which love, as well as pride, should draw a sheltering veil. never listen to an unkind tale of his past or present mistakes, and count all those who would seek thus to destroy your peace of mind as your bitterest enemies. let the husband in his turn remember that an unkind or slighting word spoken of his wife, touches his own honor to the quick, and be instant in resenting the words that should never have been spoken in his presence. another point to be remembered in view of the duty of husband and wife toward one another, is with reference to attending church or entertainments. the wife has, in all probability, left a home where the different members of the household were ready to accompany each other whenever occasion served, and young friends were planning many a pleasant outing, and now she is wholly dependent upon her husband for all of these things. let her beware, under these circumstances, of allowing herself to attend church, lecture, or any other evening entertainment, in the company of well-meaning friends. for the husband, once seeing that his wife can attend these places without his assistance, will soon, if such be his disposition, remain selfishly home at all times, or, if otherwise inclined, still more selfishly find his amusement in places widely foreign to his wife's happiness or peace of mind. the carelessness of many well-meaning men in this respect is the cause of very much unhappiness that might be wholly avoided by a little consideration as to the utter dependence of the wife upon her husband for all these recreations. home attire. this is a subject that it should be unnecessary to touch upon, but, unfortunately, too many bright, pretty, carefully-dressed girls degenerate into careless, fretful, untidy and illy-clad young wives, whose presence is anything but a joy forever to the individuals who must face them across the family board for three hundred and sixty-five days in every year. and it is this careless young woman who is first to complain that "john does not care for me in the least, now we are married," while john is very apt to think, "if carrie would only take just a little of the pains to please me now that she did six months ago, how much happier we would be." and john is quite right about it. this very carelessness on the part of wives has marred the happiness of more than one new home. the ribbon, the flower, the color that "john likes" and the smile that crowns all are magical in their effects. then let john always remember to bring to this home a pleasant face, from which business cares are driven away, and a readiness to please and be pleased, that meets the wife's attempts half way, and the evening meal will be made delightful by pleasant chat, which should never consist of a _résumé_ of the day's tribulations, but should turn on subjects calculated to remove from the mind all trace of their existence, and thus will they arise at its close better and happier for the hour that has passed. household and personal expenses. one of the chief sources of unhappiness in married life is the strife arising from the vexed question of home and personal expenses. in the first place, the husband frequently fails in regard to openness with regard to his business concerns and profits; thus the wife, entirely ignorant as to what amount she may safely spend, errs too often on the side of extravagance, finding too late, when a storm of reproach descends upon her innocent head, where and how she has sinned. then, too, it is often a sore trial to the wife's pride to ask for the money necessary to keep her own wardrobe in repair. especially is this the case when, before marriage, she was in receipt of her own money, earned by her own hands. it seems to her that her husband ought to see that she has need of certain articles, and the very fact that he does not, leads her to the false supposition that he has ceased to care for her, while he, if there was any thought about it in his mind, would say, "why doesn't she ask for money if she wants it? she knows i will give it to her if i have it." all these troubles would be avoided if married couples early came to a definite understanding on this subject, and a certain sum were set aside which the wife was to receive weekly for household expenses, her personal wants to be supplied from such surplus as she may be able to save from out this sum, or in some other way provided for by a stated amount, both of which sums should be under her exclusive, unquestioned control. some simple system of accounts should then be kept and regularly gone over together on every quarter. a mutual agreement thus established on the money question, much annoyance and much extravagance may be prevented. it is not too much to suggest that, perhaps, it might not be amiss to present an account of the husband's expenses also, at these quarterly reckonings. above all things, never let the wife, from a weak desire to gratify her own personal vanity, enter upon some extravagant purchase, the amount of which she must conceal from her husband, and (vainly often) strive to pay in small amounts saved or borrowed. the result is usually exposure, sometimes disgrace, pecuniary loss and loss of esteem in the husband's eyes. perfect confidence is the only basis upon which happiness can be safely founded. a pleasant disposition. cultivate, on both sides, a disposition to restrain all unseemly exhibitions of temper. hysterics and prolonged and repeated fits of tears soon lose their effect, and, at the last, a half-pitying contempt is their only result. let all conversation be refined in its tone. the force of example in this respect carries with it a silent, impressive power that is not easily resisted and lapses therefrom involve a loss of this influence that cannot be easily estimated. profanity, too, is a deadly foe in the household and any wife that permits her husband to swear in her presence, either to herself, or concerning others, lessens her own self-respect each time it occurs. that profanity can be repressed, has been shown her by the fact that, no matter how long the previous engagement may have lasted, no word of such import escaped the man's lips in her presence, and surely the woman chosen to be head of his home is no less worthy of his respect than was the girl he wooed. the habit of indulging in cutting or harsh remarks is one to be guarded against. mutual politeness should be exercised by both husband and wife, and in all cases watch should be set over the mouth, and the door of the lips well kept. boarding versus home life. the tendency in all large cities, at this present time, points toward fashionable boarding-houses, or expensive lodging-houses, as the nuclei round which the newly-married most do congregate. it may be that the wife is utterly unused to the care of a house (in which case the sooner she learn the art, the happier for both parties) or, perhaps, the financial resources of the husband are unable to support the drain consequent upon furnishing a home that shall gratify the foolish pride of the wife. but, whatever the cause, the effects are the same, and are to be found in the utter unfitness of women adopting this manner of existence for any of the serious duties of life that, sooner or later, come upon all who wear this mortal garb. then, too, in the idle, censorious, gossiping, novel-reading life that flourishes in this hothouse existence, the seeds of lifelong misery are not infrequently sown. let a home, then, however small, be one of the first considerations in beginning the married life, and let the adding to, and the beautifying of, this precious possession be the duty and the privilege of the years to come. to the wife, in her housewifely _rôle_, belongs the care of overseeing or accomplishing with her own hands, the varied duties that go to secure the daily well-being of the home. she must see that the rooms are bright, neat, and cosily arranged; that the meals are appetizingly and punctually served, and be herself neatly and tastefully attired to preside at the table. due allowances are to be made for the amount of manual labor she has been obliged to perform with her own hands, still, by care and tact a woman can always maintain a certain degree of neatness. let the husband, on his part, bring into the home cheerfulness, with a quick remembrance of all those little attentions that go so far toward making up the sum of earthly happiness. let him see that, to the best of his ability, the home wants are provided for, and be not forgetful to lend the help of his stronger hand wherever needed. (read carefully other hints in department of home etiquette.) never demand of your wife more than you are willing to give. if you desire to be received with smiles, enter the house with a cheerful mien, and you will find there are few women who are not willing to give measure for measure, and even a little more than they receive of kindly attention. for a wife will usually shine, like the moon, by reflection, and her happiness will always reflect your own. [illustration] weddings and wedding anniversaries. [illustration] in discussing the important subject of etiquette as connected with weddings and wedding anniversaries, it may be mentioned here that the forms for invitations to all occasions of this sort, and acceptances and regrets of the same, card-sending, etc., have been fully treated in their respective departments. the observances immediately preceding, during, and following the ceremony, are now to receive consideration. paying for the cards. the form, size and use of these important bits of pasteboard having been before stated, it only remains for us to say here that all the expenses relative to their purchase and distribution are to be borne solely by the parents or other guardians of the bride. to have it otherwise implies a lack of delicacy on the part of the bride, and lays upon her a certain amount of obligation which every right-minded girl would desire, above all things, to avoid. hence when the parents are financially unable to incur the expense, good taste demands that all display be abandoned and the couple be quietly married in the presence of the family only. the bride should always remember that until the fateful words are spoken that make the twain one flesh, she has no claim whatever on the purse of her future husband, and conduct herself accordingly. hence it is that a very plain _trousseau_ is more commendable to the self-respect of the wearer, than the elaborate outfittings, toward the purchase of which the groom-expectant has largely contributed, and which, in case of the oft-recurring "slip twixt the cup and the lip," must weigh heavily upon the maiden's pride. even the "after cards" are usually ordered by the parents with the others, and paid for at the same time. if, however, they are ordered after marriage, they are paid for by the groom. there is only one exception to the rule of the bride's parents paying for the wedding cards, and this occurs when the wedding ceremony is performed quietly in church and the reception, for some reason, is held at the home of the groom's parents, in which case they, as the entertainers, properly pay for, and issue, the cards of invitation. the groom, in england, always pays for the carriage that conveys himself and bride to the station after the ceremony and reception are past, but in this country the fashionable father usually claims the privilege of sending them on this first stage of their married life in his own carriage. however, the groom buys the ring and a bouquet for the bride, furnishes dainty presents for the bridemaids, remembers the best man and the ushers, pays the clergyman's fee, the size of which is to be regulated only by his inclination, or the length of his purse-strings, and furnishes the marriage license. naming the day. this privilege belongs by right to the lady herself, but, in reality, the business engagements of the groom, and the time when he can best leave for the bridal tour have much to do in settling the exact date for which the invitations shall be issued. in very fashionable circles it is the mother that names the day of her daughter's marriage. time was when during the two weeks, or longer, elapsing between the issuing of the invitations and the occurrence of the wedding, the bride-expectant was not to be seen in public, nor by chance callers at the house, a custom which still prevails to some extent, but is superseded in the most fashionable circles by a series of especial entertainments given during this interval. it frequently happens that one, or each, of the bridemaids entertains the bride and other bridemaids at a lunch or dinner, either informally or on a large scale. some married friend of the family may give a large farewell dinner to miss ---- and her bridemaids; and the bride herself, or her mother, may give a rehearsal dinner. ordinary invitations, however, are not to be accepted. if the presents are not to be exhibited at the wedding reception, the bride frequently gives an informal tea the day before to her lady friends for the purpose of displaying them. she should also, for her health's sake, take a daily drive. announcing the engagement. an engagement is now frequently announced in rather a formal manner. this, however, is not usually done until a short time previous to the marriage itself. sometimes it comes out in the society papers immediately after it has been made known to the kinfolk and intimate friends. felicitations follow as a matter of course. sometimes a dinner-party is given by the parents of the bride-elect and the announcement is made by the host just before leaving the table. congratulations follow. sometimes notes are written by the young lady or her mother in announcement. if the families of the contracting parties have been strangers heretofore it is expected that the gentleman's family will make the first call. any friends that choose may give entertainments in honor of the couple. the lady does not make any ceremonious calls after this announcement has been made, it being supposed that before this occurs she shall have left cards upon all her friends. if no formal announcement is made the bride-to-be must, before invitations are issued, leave cards with her friends and acquaintances. in the city she need not enter to make a personal call, in the country she will probably find it necessary so to do. wedding gifts. there is much to be said for and against the custom of wedding presents. and while the fact remains that they too often become the vehicle for an expenditure so uncalled-for as to encroach upon vulgarity in its excess, another fact still exists, that the simple remembrances of friends are very grateful to the bride, who, perhaps, is bound for a distant home where every loving token will recall a well-known face. then remember your friends on their wedding day, wisely, and according to their tastes and your own resources, for: "policy counselleth a gift, given wisely and in season, and policy afterward approveth it, for great is the power of gifts." by those so desiring, the words, "no presents," or "no presents received," may be engraved in the left hand corner of the card. this is often a relief to many of the guests, and, at the same time does not prevent the very intimate friends, as well as members of the family, from sending quietly such gifts as they may choose, which, of course, are not exhibited. where presents are to be given they are frequently sent some time in advance, and the bride often takes much pleasure in arranging them for exhibition in some upstairs room. each article is accompanied by the card of the giver; these are removed or not, as may be desired before exhibition. the bride acknowledges the reception of each gift by a graceful little note of thanks. some of them doubtless will come from persons unknown to her, friends of the groom, and to these she must be especially prompt in returning her acknowledgments. list of invitations. making up the list of invitations should be attended to carefully. the engaged couple should carefully prepare their respective lists and the mother of the bride should attentively scan names, for from this is to be made up the future visiting list of her daughter, and she cannot but hesitate at burdening her at the outset of her new life with a host of calling acquaintances, hence is forced to exclude every ineligible name; a cutting painful but oftimes necessary. ushers. the duties of the ushers in a church wedding are very important. at large weddings as many as half a dozen, or more, ushers are sometimes needed to manage the great number of guests. they usually appoint one of their number as head usher, and to him falls the duty of deciding on the space to be reserved for near relatives, which is to be divided from the remainder of the church by white ribbons. he makes sure that the organist is in place, indicates the approach of the bridal party that the wedding march may greet them, and instructs the other ushers as to their respective duties. ushers must escort guests to their seats, and as relatives of the groom are seated on the right of the main aisle, or center of the church, and those of the bride on the left, it is proper for an usher to ask any one with whom he may be unacquainted whether their relationship is to the bride or groom. in escorting guests to their seats an usher gives his right arm to a lady. a gentleman who may be in her company should follow after. the guests assembled, part of the ushers should leave the church at once and drive to the bride's residence in order to be there to receive the bridal party upon their return. "the best man." the "best man" is usually an intimate friend or relative of the groom. he drives to the church with him, stands by his side at the altar-rails while he awaits the approach of the bride, and, stepping back, it is he that holds the groom's hat during the ceremony and hands it to him at its close. to him is confided the payment of the wedding fee, and if there is a marriage register he signs as a witness. he then drives by himself to the bride's home, reaching there in time to receive the bridal party and to assist the ushers in the presentation of guests to the newly-married couple. he also makes the necessary arrangements about their departure, secures the tickets, and, if their destination is to be kept a secret, to him alone is it confided. it occasionally happens that there are as many groomsmen as there are bridemaids, but this is the exception and the "best man" takes their place. the ushers frequently form, two and two, and precede the bridal party up the aisle. bridemaids. the number of these is optional, from one to twelve being allowable. four, six or eight are usually chosen. unmarried sisters of the bride and groom are frequently selected. custom emphatically declares that they must be younger than the bride. for an elder sister thus to officiate would be extremely inappropriate. indeed, the favored fashion of the present time is for little tots, all the way from three or four to eight, clad in bewitchingly quaint and picturesque costumes and crowned by the largest of gainsboro' hats, to precede the bridal couple to the chancel. in addition to these, the bride is followed by a chosen number of bridemaids as well, but often the children are all. frequently they carry baskets of flowers, and, preceding the newly-made wife in her progress down the church aisle, they scatter the blossoms in her pathway. sometimes this order is changed, and children rise in groups from seats near the front, and, preceding the bridal _cortège_ to the door, scatter flowers before them. children selected for this purpose should be under ten. young boys, selected from among relatives, are sometimes dressed as pages and accompany the bride as train-bearers. bridemaids usually consult the bride as to their toilets, and each other as well, that there may be no unfortunate combinations of color to mar the effect of the whole. they usually dress in colors, unless the bride choose some faint tint for her costume; then it is customary for them to wear pure white, and sometimes the whole group are clad in spotless purity. the bridemaids' gowns are walking length, as a rule, and they wear large, picturesque hats, overshadowed with plumes or adorned with flowers, and carry huge bunches, or baskets, of fragrant blossoms. wealthy brides, who have some special fancy to carry out, often provide the gowns for their maids. historic styles are frequently chosen, making every gown after the exact mode of the epoch selected, but adopting a different color for each. where there is but one bridemaid, if she be escorted at all, which is not always done, it should be by some friend, not the "best man," whose duties in attendance on the groom are all-sufficient. bridemaids should not refuse the proffered honor, if possible for them to accept. if, after acceptance, unforeseen circumstances should occur to prevent participation in the festivities, no time should be lost in sending a regret and full explanation, so that her place may be supplied in time to prevent disarrangement of the entire plan. a church wedding. a church wedding is more picturesque and solemn than any other form of celebrating the marriage rite and the etiquette of all full-dress affairs of this nature is essentially the same. the groom drives first to the church, accompanied by his "best man" and enters either vestry or church parlor. the relatives, the mother of the bride and the bridemaids now drive to the church in carriages, closely followed by the carriage of the bride and her father. by this time it is supposed that the carpet and awning, if it is a city church, are in place, the invited guests assembled, and the bridal procession immediately forms, entering the church and passing up the aisle to the strains of the wedding march. in england a lovely innovation is made on this threadbare custom by having a chorus of boy-voices sing an epithalamium, or wedding ode, during their progress. this custom has found its way here in some ritualistic churches where the vested choir march, two and two, at the head of the bridal procession, singing as they march. sometimes as high as forty, and even seventy, in number swell the _cortège_. the order of progression is as follows: first the ushers, (unless there are choristers to take the lead) who march up the aisle by twos, keeping step with the music, then, if there are child-bridemaids, they follow in the same order. some brides have two, some four or six of these dainty dots of maids. the children are followed by the grown bridemaids, also two by two. sometimes children alone fill the place, there being no grown maids. the maids, both children and grown folk, are arranged according to their height and the harmony of color in their gowns. [illustration: the marriage ceremony.] after them comes the bride leaning on the right arm of her father. it sometimes happens that she walks up the aisle alone, and again that she is accompanied by some male relative who is to take a father's place in giving her away. occasionally young brothers, mere boys in age, are permitted to assume this touching duty. at the altar steps the ushers separate and pass to the right and left, the bridemaids also separate in a similar manner, leaving space for the bridal couple. the groom, having come from the vestry, accompanied by the "best man," should be standing in readiness to advance, take the bride by her right hand and turn to the clergyman, who proceeds with the marriage formula sanctioned by his faith. at that point in the service where the question is asked, "who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" the father, or whoever takes his place, should bow, and then in a moment leave the group and seat himself beside the bride's mother in the front pew at the left. in a ritualistic church the bride and groom at once kneel before the officiating clergyman, who will signify to them at what point of the service to rise. hassocks should be provided for the occasion. the first bridemaid, or maid of honor, takes her stand close to, and slightly back of, the bride, that she may be ready to take her bouquet, if she has one, remove her glove, or, as is the better custom in this day of many-buttoned gloves, to turn back the neatly-ripped glove-finger that the ring may be adjusted, and to hold her bouquet or prayer-book when necessary. in the meantime, it is the "best man" who hands the ring to the clergymen in readiness for use. after the ceremony. the service over, which may or may not have been accompanied by low, slow music, the clergyman shakes hands with and congratulates the newly-wedded couple (kissing being no longer permissible), the groom draws the bride's right hand within his left arm and conducts her to the carriage, taking the center aisle if the church have one; if not, taking the opposite from that by which they entered, the bride, her veil over her face, neither recognizing nor paying the slightest apparent heed to any one in the church. the organ peals forth, the procession re-forms and follows to the door, first the bridemaids, next the ushers. if there have been choristers, they lead the line, chanting as before, until their voices die out of hearing in the vestibule. often, too, the child-bridemaids precede the couple as they leave the church, scattering flowers before them, the whole forming a very pretty pageant to the eye. the church may have been richly decorated with flowers and potted plants. where there is but one bridemaid or maid of honor, as she is then called, she attends to all the duties necessary, but the bridal procession is shorn somewhat of its fair proportions. the vestibule reached, certificate or church register signed, the bride is cloaked, and, entering a carriage with her husband, is quickly driven home, the guests remaining in their seats until the cessation of the wedding march, when they, too, enter their carriages. meanwhile the "best man" takes the shortest route possible to the same destination in order to assist the head usher, who with, perhaps, some of the other ushers, is supposed to be already there, in receiving the bridal party and guests as they reach the house. the remaining ushers busy themselves in assisting the bridemaids to their carriages and speeding them onward that they, if possible, may reach the house in time to receive the bride and groom. if the church wedding be in the evening the same order will be observed, save that the gentlemen wear evening dress. the reception. at the house the ushers introduce the guests to the newly-married couple who, together with the bridemaids, form a group to receive the good wishes of the company. the parents of the bride stand a little apart from this party and receive the felicitations of their guests in behalf of their daughter's welfare. the parents of the groom, if present, form part of this group. if the company is very large it is well to divide the centers of attractions by placing the young couple in one room and the parents in another, thus compelling a freer circulation of the guests, who else would crowd the bridal party to suffocation. the house may be profusely decorated with flowers, and the rooms though daylight reign without, may have been carefully darkened only to be re-illuminated by the softer radiance of waxen candles or shaded gas jets. refreshments. the banquet may be as elaborate as desired, but is usually served in the refreshment room from the _buffet_, guests repairing thither at any time where they are served by attendants, ushers seeing that ladies unattended by gentlemen are invited to partake and properly served. tea or coffee is not considered a necessity, though, in compliance with tastes that do not yield easily to fashion's decree, it is usually to be had, but in winter bouillon, in cups, is usually offered. wine, of course, depends upon the scruples of the entertainers. salads, lobster, salmon, etc., birds and dainty rolled sandwiches, do duty for meats. fancy cakes, such as maccaroons, kisses, etc., are always offered, together with ices. the variety of other cakes is always at the option of the hostess, save the regulation rich black fruit, or groom's cake, and the bride's snowy loaf. these are necessities, and if the bride so far conform to the old custom of "cutting the cake" as to make one incision therein with a wonderful silver knife, "ye ancient superstition" is satisfied, and the work of cutting it and packing in dainty boxes to be carried home, if this be wished, is deputed to attendants. these boxes are deposited in some convenient place within reach of the departing guests. when there are a number of elderly guests it is generally thought best to set two or more small tables in the refreshment-room, or an ante-room, where they may be comfortably accommodated with seats, and one of the ushers should see that they are so seated and promptly served. rehearsals. in view of the complicated arrangements made necessary for the proper carrying out of a fashionable church wedding, and in consideration of the large number of people involved in the ceremony and the necessity of each one being in the right place at the right moment, in order to prevent confusion, it will be seen that some preparation is necessary before all can act in concert. the needed drill is usually given by an exact rehearsal of the entire affair, to give which, the whole party meet at the church and rehearse, so to speak, their respective parts; the forming into procession, the parting right and left at the chancel and the re-forming to return to the vestibule, being all gone through with to the sound of music, until every part of the long procession moves like clockwork. the grouping of the bridemaids, the appointed duties of maid of honor and "best man," even to the smallest details, are all made perfect, until even the principal actors in the scene can retire without fear of any disaster to come. this rehearsal is frequently made the occasion of a rehearsal dinner, given by the mother of the bride, at which the intimate participants of the wedding-to-come entertain and refresh themselves. the wedding breakfast. wedding breakfasts are an exclusively english fashion, but are gradually creeping into favor here. the breakfast does not differ from the ordinary reception, save that it is usually at an earlier hour and is more frequently a "sit-down affair." the guests all go into the refreshment room at the same time, even though it sometimes happens that the assembly is so large that no one but the bridal party and immediate relatives are provided with seats at small tables. in this case, the gentlemen help the ladies and themselves from a long table in the center of the room, the whole affair, under these circumstances, being simply a cold collation. gentlemen leave their hats in the hall; ladies retain bonnet and gloves. after the usual greetings to the bridal pair and a few minutes general conversation, the repast is announced and the guests proceed to the appointed room in the usual fashion--bride and groom, bride's father and groom's mother, groom's father and bride's mother, "best man" and maid of honor, other bridemaids and gentlemen appointed, usually ushers, etc. a "stand-up" breakfast has many things in its favor. it is more easily served than one where all the guests are seated at a table that, in everything but name, is a dinner table; it is less formal and therefore pleasanter, and far more guests can be accommodated. the refreshments are the same as for a reception. departure. after mingling with the guests for a short time the bride quietly withdraws to don her traveling garb, and soon descends the stairway. she is met at the foot by her bridemaids, who part and form in line on either hand, through which dainty pathway she passes to join the groom. quick good-bys are said, the carriage is entered and whirls rapidly away, followed by showers of rice and cast-off slippers, and the pretty scene is ended. home weddings. home weddings are attended with much less trouble, fatigue and expense than fashionable church weddings. the clergyman enters the room and stands facing the people; the bridal couple follow and stand facing him. hassocks are provided for kneeling, if desired. the father, or some near male relative, stands ready, in sight of the clergyman, to give away the bride. he should simply bow his affirmation when the question is asked. there are many additions that may be made to this simple ceremony, such as a troop of pretty children holding white ribbons each side to mark the path the bridal pair must walk to reach the minister, while the sweet strains of a hidden band of musicians may accompany their footsteps. floral decorations, within limits, are beautiful and appropriate, but where they are so lavishly displayed as to remind more of the florist's bill than the beauty of the blossoms, their effect is lost in a certain vulgarity that attends all too-visible evidences of outlay. one pretty idea is to carry out the fancy of having one kind of flower, massed according to the chosen design, serve for the decorations, at flower weddings; for example, rose weddings, lily weddings, daffodil weddings, etc. the design itself is according to the taste of the florist or the family, and is a subject changing so easily with the season or the fashion as to merit no mention here. the supper may be as elegant an affair as one chooses to make it. if served by caterers, all care is removed from the hostess as to possible accidents, and she is left free to entertain her guests. at evening weddings the company remains late or not, according to the hour of the bride's departure. sometimes dancing is arranged as one of the evening's amusements. if so, the bride may, if she choose, open the first quadrille with the "best man." should she do this, the groom is expected to dance with the first bridemaid. the bride can slip away at any time, to reappear in traveling costume, and bidding a quick farewell, disappear from the company, who, after this, begin to disperse. one most pleasant custom, english in its origin, should not be forgotten; it is that of remembering all the servants with some little gift as a souvenir of the occasion. invitations to church weddings. there is a good deal of dispute in regard to the etiquette of acknowledgment of a card for a church wedding. some high authorities assert that the invitation is so general and means so little particular attention that no notice need be taken of it except in the regular line of future visits to the bride and to the bride's mother. but one of our american social oracles declares that a card is obligatory at the hour of the wedding, if one cannot attend, and that if the house address is unknown, this card should be sent to the church. if this is necessary, most people err woefully, for few non-attendants send the card. for church weddings everything pertains to formality, and the invitation as well as the ceremony is impressive in all details. the names of the parents heading the invitation are now more often written in full, thus insuring a good-looking line at the top of the note. the line, "request the honor of your presence," almost invariably appears on a church invitation with "honor" spelled with a "u." the names of bride and groom are separated by the little word "to," although some consider "and" quite as proper. the omission of the prefix "miss" from the daughter's name is customary on an invitation but should never occur when the bride is a sister, cousin or niece of the people issuing the invitations. if a widow is re-marrying, she uses the prefix "mrs." with her christian names and the surname of her deceased husband. if the bride is an orphan, with no one to issue the invitations for her, the heading reads, "the honor of your presence is requested," etc. when the bride has more names than one it is customary to use all. the address of a well-known church is generally omitted, although it is frequently a convenience for out-of-town friends to know it. names of churches ending with "s," as saint thomas, are written with an apostrophe "s"--thus, saint thomas's. dress for the occasion. the bride's dress may be as elegant as desired, or as simple, but it is to be hoped that the custom of using pure white in the composition of the toilet will not be superseded by any passing freak of dame fashion's for softly tinted bridal robes. this innovation should be stoutly resisted by all brides-to-be. if the white robe is simple in material, a simple style should be chosen for the making; richer goods allow of more elaboration. the bride wears no jewels, and the typical orange-blossoms and myrtle are supposed to crown her brow. as a fact, however, other white flowers, such as roses, lilacs, lilies-of-the-valley, are more frequently chosen. where the wedding decorations are of one flower exclusively, that blossom alone figures in the bridal wreath and bouquet. some high church brides carry an ivory or silver-bound prayer-book in preference to flowers; thus associating it with the most sacred vows of their life and hoping to preserve it as an heirloom in the family. white shoes and gloves are to be worn with this toilet. the best taste prescribes a high corsage for the bridal costume, and sleeves either to the elbow or longer, in either case to be met by the long kid gloves. this gives a certain modesty to the toilet that is in keeping with the occasion. by many brides who expect to wear their bridal costume to after evening entertainments, the wedding gown is frequently supplied with two corsages; the high for the wedding day and the low for evening wear. the veil is usually of thin, sheer tulle, as this is most becoming to the face, but those brides who can display fine old point on this occasion will be very apt so to do. if the bridal costume is to be worn on any other occasion, it must be divested of orange-blossoms and worn without the veil. the above-described costume is appropriate for either a morning or evening wedding. brides, who are married in traveling costume, should wear a bonnet rather than a hat. the groom's dress is decided by the hour at which the wedding takes place. if it is in the evening, the conventional evening dress is imperative. black suit, dress coat, low-cut waistcoat, white tie, white or pale pearl-colored gloves, thin patent leather shoes and possibly a white flower in the buttonhole, constitute proper costume. morning costume. at a morning wedding, that is, one taking place at any hour between ten and seven (before which time a dress suit can by no possibility appear) full morning costume is worn by the groom. this consists of a dark frock coat, dark waistcoat and lighter trousers; a stiff hat, a light scarf and gloves if desired. the gloves should be light but not evening tints; pale tan or gray being suitable. the groomsmen's dress is decided by the hour and by the dress of the groom, of which it is a faithful copy. the usher's dress follows the same law as that of the groomsmen, save that if wedding favors are worn it is by the ushers only. the other gentlemen present will find it well to copy the same styles, save that those only who are immediately connected with the ceremony are expected to wear white gloves. the bridemaid's dress has been already described. friends in mourning are expected to lay aside their somber robings for this hour. even the widowed mother is bound to don either a pale gray, or a deep purple, costume for the occasion, the presence of black at so joyous a moment always casting a certain shadow over the party. the traveling dress. this is occasionally worn by brides who do not wish to incur the haste and annoyance of changing their costume before leaving for the bridal tour. this is done at times even when the ceremony is performed in church, but is almost always resorted to where the wedding is quiet. sometimes this dress is as elaborate as is at all consistent with good taste for traveling, and when this is the case it is usually exchanged for the regulation traveling gown at the first stopping place in their journey. more frequently, and more appropriately, the plain tailor-made suit, with gloves and hat in harmony, is made to do duty. in any case where the bride chooses to wear a traveling costume, even should the ceremony be performed in the evening, the groom will wear a morning costume. a quiet wedding. to many people the idea of so much splendor and ceremony on the occasion of their marriage has in it something distasteful, and to others the physical weariness thereby incurred is almost an impossibility. in this case the quietest of ceremonies may be chosen. it may take place in church if the bride desire this further seal of solemnity set upon the service, with parents and one or two friends for witnesses; or at home with the family and clergyman only present, the bridal couple being driven from thence directly to the depot if the stereotyped wedding tour is to follow. re-marriage. a widow, re-marrying, no matter how youthful she may be, is prohibited from wearing the white gown, veil and orange-blossoms of the bride. neither may she surround herself with a bevy of bridemaids. her wedding, to be absolutely correct, should be quietly solemnized and her garb a traveling dress. still, if she should wish, she may wear the most elegant of tinted silks, the most elaborate in make-up, and have a large and elegant assembly to witness her marriage and participate in its festivities, but no bridemaids are allowable. at a church wedding she should be attended by her father, brother, other male relative, or some friend. she should always remove the first wedding ring from her finger before the service and not again assume it. invitations to the marriage of a widow are engraved with her whole name, maiden and married, thus: elizabeth stuart fielding. if she have sons or unmarried daughters at the time of her second marriage she should prefix their last name to her new one on all ceremonious occasions in which they also are interested, thus: mrs. stuart fielding grant and miss fielding, at home. grosvenor square. the ring. the fourth finger of the left hand, counting from the thumb, is the finger upon which the engagement and wedding rings are worn. the engagement ring varies in extravagance according to the means of the groom, and has almost always a set of some description; the wedding ring is always the same, a plain, round-edged band of gold. initials and dates may be engraved in both. the engagement ring is usually worn afterward as a guard for the wedding ring. as to its setting there is a wide latitude given wherein all the pretty conceits and superstitions attached to precious stones may be exercised at will. the german consider pearls unlucky for brides, as significant of tears. birth-month stones may be used, even the fateful opal losing its power for harm when worn by an october maiden. the turquoise is perhaps the favored of precious stones for this purpose. the old persian proverb says that "he that hath a turquoise hath a friend." its known power of turning pale under certain climatic influences has invested it in story with the power of not only warding off evil influences, rendering its wearer constant and assuring success in love, but still more of revealing by a certain pallor of coloring, coming danger or the existence of inconstancy in its wearer. it is also said that in case of a fall the turquoise takes all injury upon itself; the stone being fractured and the owner being uninjured. add to this the item that the stone must be a gift, not a purchase, to possess these marvelous powers, and it will be seen that it is admirably suited to adorn an engagement ring. the diamond is another very appropriate stone for this purpose, either _solitaire_ or in cluster. [illustration: the wedding gift.] reception days. it is necessary for the bride to include her new address with her wedding invitations, unless, as is still more "chic," cards for several reception days are issued after her return. these dates being fixed, it is then that first calls may be made upon her at her new residence with the happy certainty of finding her at home. at these quiet, informal receptions, she receives simply as a member of society, wearing usually a rich, dark silk without any reminders of her recent bridehood. wedding anniversaries. the wedding anniversaries are numerous, but only a few of these are habitually observed. paper, wooden, tin, crystal, silver and golden are the favorite ones, the others being so rare as to hardly merit being included in the list. the following complete list of the anniversaries, with the respective dates of their occurrence, may be useful for reference: first anniversary paper wedding. second anniversary cotton wedding. third anniversary leather wedding. fifth anniversary wooden wedding. seventh anniversary woolen wedding. tenth anniversary tin wedding. twelfth anniversary silk and linen wedding. fifteenth anniversary crystal wedding. twentieth anniversary china (sometimes floral) wedding. twenty-fifth anniversary silver wedding. thirtieth anniversary pearl wedding. thirty-fifth anniversary coral wedding. fortieth anniversary ruby wedding. forty-fifth anniversary bronze wedding. fiftieth anniversary golden wedding. sixty-fifth anniversary crown-diamond wedding. seventy-fifth anniversary diamond wedding. it may be well to mention here that the twentieth anniversary is considered unlucky to celebrate, or even to mention. the manner of sending out invitations and accepting and refusing the same has been fully described in the proper department, and a few words only will be necessary as to the gifts and entertainment suitable on such occasions. tin and paper weddings and some other of the earlier anniversaries are usually occasions for happy frolics, and merry jests as to the form the gifts will take, though the paper wedding gives place for the presentation of elegant books, and a supply of fashionable stationery that is sufficient to fill the family needs for a long space of time. suitable presents. the wooden wedding is a little more expensive in its demands, and the gifts range from elegant _suites_ of carved furniture down to dainty bits of hand-carving in the shape of panels and placques; and from rolling-pin and potato-masher all the way up to oaken mantles, rich with all manner of ingenious fret-work of design. the crystal wedding may also show forth a glittering array of gifts both ornamental and useful. the silver wedding is, perhaps, the most important of all the wedding anniversaries. this arises partly from the fact that it is most generally observed, partly because of the value of its gifts, and, more than aught else, because the date of its observance finds the happy pair still in the enjoyment of comparative youth and with length of days still before them. in the matter of presents it is almost impossible to go amiss, since there is scarcely an article of use or ornament from dining-room to reception-room and from the library desk to my lady's toilet table, that has not been made a thing of beauty and a joy forever by the silversmith's art. the golden wedding, from the advanced age at which it occurs, has an element of sadness in its celebration. the aged couple who stand so near the brink of separation can have little of bridal joy as they look back to the day when they stood before the altar in the first flush of youth, with life before them, or as they look forward to the shortened span of years that links them to their loved ones here. the gifts that are laid before them should be fitly wrought of gold, since their love has been as gold tried in the furnace of life. if the family means are insufficient for numerous valuable gifts, let all the friends "club" together and purchase some fitting souvenir for the occasion. golden-rod forms an appropriate floral decoration. but, after all, the chief idea and the pleasure of this anniversary is the gathering together of as many as possible of the relatives that yet remain to greet the pair at this, the golden milestone of their life's journey. speeches and congratulations. the diamond wedding occurs so seldom, and is so much like the others in the manner, if not the matter of its gifts, as to scarcely require mention here. the entertainment at these anniversary celebrations is very much the same as at weddings or other gatherings. the refreshments may be served at tables, or a "stand up" collation given. in this latter case, there should be one or two tables set for the elders of the party. at silver and golden weddings presentation speeches are frequently made by some friend, and at golden anniversaries a regular program is oftentimes carried out. anniversary poems are read, "the hanging of the crane" recited, congratulatory telegrams from absent friends are announced, and any old acquaintances present that can be persuaded to say a few words of "ye olden times" are pressed into service. good taste, however, would seem to prevent any repetition of the marriage service on such an occasion. cards in acknowledgment of bridal presents are worded in the following fashion: mr. and mrs. george h. brandon express sincere thanks to ---- for the beautiful wedding gift. june th. west th street. an ultra-fashionable bride, supplying herself with several packages of these stereotyped acknowledgments, has nothing to do but fill in the name of the sender and thus avoid infinite labor. [illustration: an unseasonable call.] [illustration: a five o'clock tea.] home etiquette. [illustration] good manners are a plant of slow growth, and one that should be cultivated in the home circle. "give a boy address, and it opens palaces to him," says emerson, and nowhere is this address, "this habit of encounter," so easily gained as within the walls of home. there his character is formed for life. good breeding, in reality, is but the outcome of "much good sense, some good nature, and a little self-denial exercised for the sake of others, with a view to obtain the same indulgence from them." these words of the scholar, chesterfield, learned as he was in worldly lore, and satisfied of the expediency of such observances from a selfish standpoint, are but another, and more selfish, rendering of the golden rule, whose value as a rule of action in life is apparent. courtesy, it must be conceded, is not only pleasant, but profitable in all places, and at all times, but more especially in the home circle are its virtues most brilliantly set forth. courtesies of married life. "marriage very rarely mends a man's manners," is a sadly true statement of the playwright congreve, and one whose truth touches women also as concerning the marriage state. if the slight formalities that are the bulwarks of love as well as friendship, many forbearances, and more of the small, sweet courtesies of life, were but permitted to blossom forth like unexpected flowers beneath the family roof-tree, fewer unhappy marriages would catalogue their miseries in the divorce court. the man who takes off his hat as politely to his wife when he parts from her on the street as he would to his lady acquaintance of yesterday; who opens the door for her to enter; who would no more speak harshly to her than to any other lady, is very likely to retain her first affection and to add to it that sweeter, closer love that comes of knowledge and companionship. what women admire. women admire fine manners and graceful attentions. the man who never forgets their tastes; who remembers wedding anniversaries and birthdays; is interested in their pursuits, and ready with an appreciative word of praise, is the man that claims their admiration by virtue of thoughtfulness and consideration. this man, too, would be far more apt to hold a woman's affection than the best and most upright of his sex, who is thoughtless and indifferent, not of her physical comfort, but of all her pet fancies and sentiments, who never saw her new gowns, and is profoundly neglectful of all those trifles, light as air, which go far toward making up the sum of woman's happiness or misery. what men desire. hepworth dixon, on being asked what men most desire in a wife, and what quality held them longest, unhesitatingly replied, "that she should be a pillow." then, noting the inquiry thus suggested, he went on to say: "what a man most needs is that he should find in his wife a pillow whereon to rest his heart. he longs to find a moment's rest from the outer whirl of life, to win a ready listener that sympathizes where others wound." and she whose eyes are flattering mirrors, whose lips console and soothe, will find that she has secured a hold upon the heart of her husband, that the embodiment of all the virtues of her sex could not secure, were she wanting in this sympathetic tact. sweet-tempered people are the joy of the world. their civilities, their self-sacrifice, their thoughtfulness for others it is that oils the wheels of domestic life. people who, according to the old phrase, have "tempers of their own," are not, at the best, agreeable companions. we may respect their good qualities, but we are apt to give them a wide berth where possible. but when they are inmates of our own households, the evil spirit must be confronted and exorcised if possible. many a wife has, by exercising her own self-control, subdued and shamed a tyrannical, evil-tempered husband into a better disposition, but never by argument, dispute, or anger on her part. many a husband, too, has by the firmness and sweetness of his own temper, won his young, impatient wife, tried by the half-understood cares of her new existence, to evenness of spirit and control of temper. "it is impossible to be cross where charlie is," said one young wife, taken from a home where self-control had never been taught. "i am always ashamed of it afterward." fault-finding. "take us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil our vines," and of the insidious foxes that spoil the tender fruitage of the household vine, a fault-finding disposition is most dangerous. a quick, ungovernable temper is not as destructive to household peace and comfort as the nagging, carping, fault-finding spirit that sees good in nothing. a temper that is like a tornado in its violence at least clears the air as it passes, and is usually followed by quick repentance and ready reparation. but the fault-finding, nagging, suspicious temperament is a veritable foe in a man's own household. where no word of praise is heard, no commendation follows the best-intentioned efforts, but the ceaseless nagging, the ever recurring criticism meets one at every turn, it is not strange if the ties of affection are too often strained even to breaking. temper proceeds from, and is an indication of the character. it is inherited, even as features are; but, like features, it may be modified by culture and training, and a temper thus conquered becomes a very desirable possession. home conversation. educate yourself, as a wife, to keep up with the times sufficiently to be at least a companionable conversationalist. read the papers, read late books; endeavor to be as entertaining to your husband as you were to your husband-elect. [illustration: etiquette of the drawing-room.] as a husband, share your knowledge of the activities of life with your wife, who, from the very nature of her occupation is excluded from much of its exciting whirl. read together, talk together of art, of music, of literature, of the stirring events of the outer world, and put afar the evil day when topics of mutual interest shall have been worn so threadbare that the average man and women must feel a strange desire to fall asleep directly dinner is over. then, too, the children hunger for new ideas, and one of the greatest educational advantages they can enjoy is to listen daily to the conversation of intelligent people. too many parents who are bright and entertaining abroad are dull and uninteresting in their own households, to the great detriment of their children and to their own loss of intelligent companionship in one another. "what little jack learneth not, the same neither learneth great john." there is a truth in this old saying that the parents and guardians of children would do well to ponder in their hearts, for it is a well substantiated statement that the first ten years of a child's life stamp upon his character the imprint for good or ill-breeding. thus is spared the after struggle on their part to attain the grace and self-possession that should have been theirs by birthright. [illustration: sunshine at home.] children are naturally imitative, hence the value of example over precept. the children of courteous parents will imbibe courtesy as naturally and unconsciously as the growing plant absorbs oxygen from the air and sunlight that bathes its leaves and petals. softly modulated tones should mark the words spoken to a child, and reproof carries an added weight when lowered tones convey the rebuke. even a baby before it can speak recognizes shades of meaning in the tones the mother utters, and is soothed by the one and startled by the other. kindliness, politeness of the parents one towards another, are the first steps toward training children in the acquirement of good manners. gentleness and sweetness of manner can be taught at the cradle far more surely than from the school-room desk, and when baby has learned to preface its little wants with "please," and master four years-old to run and open the door for mamma, or mamma's visitors, or to give up the easiest chair without being asked, the firm foundation has been laid for courteous behavior in after life. and so on, all through the school years, boys and girls may be so taught to respect one another's possessions, letters, feelings, and to discriminate closely between _meum_ and _tuum_ after such wise that they will be made better husbands, better wives, better citizens, for all their days. slang and exaggerations. by our own speech it is that we are sure to be judged, for,-- "'tis only man can words create, and cut the air to sounds articulate by nature's special charter. nay, speech can make a shrewd discrepance 'twixt man and man. it doth the gentleman from the clown discover; and from a fool the great philosopher. as solon said to one in judgment weak:-- 'i thought thee wise until i heard thee speak.'" and if we talk with flippancy and exaggeration, load our sentences with slang phrases, and preface and punctuate them with oft-repeated expressions of "say!" "well!" "you know," "do tell," and so on, _ad infinitum_, all wisdom, or propriety of speech will be lost. it is difficult to believe in the refinement of a girl who permits her fresh young lips to utter the slang of the bar-room hanger-on, the gambler and the street gamin. equally difficult is it to believe in the absolute truthfulness of one who declares to you that the heat of a lovely june day is "simply awful" or "perfectly terrible," from sheer wonder as to what terms she would use to characterize the intense heat of some sweeping fire. [illustration: the industrious housewife.] again, it is hard to understand the taste of one who informs you gravely that "the chicken salad was too lovely for anything!" or the last evening's sunset was "perfectly elegant!" the websterian definition of "elegant" being "polished, stylish, refined, etc.," it is to be wished that all perpetrators of like sins could meet the punishment a young lady once dealt to a gentleman who remarked with great effusion: "this moonlight is perfectly elegant!" to this observation she answered with gravity, "yes, it really _is_ very stylish!" let, therefore, all who strive for the grace of good breeding, men and women, boys and girls alike, "set a watch over their lips and keep the door of their mouth," for "words have wings, and so soon as their cage, the mouth, is opened, out they fly and mount beyond our reach, and past recovery." some do's for girls. the following hints for girls, each prefaced by the auxiliary "do," will prove a safe guide, not only for the girls but for any of their elders who may choose to follow them. do answer your letters soon after they are received, and do try to reply to them with some relation to their contents; a rambling, ill-considered letter is a satire upon your education. do, when you talk, keep your hands still. do observe; the faculty of observation, well cultivated, makes practical men and women. do attach as much importance to your mind as to your body. do be natural; a poor diamond is better than a good imitation. do try to remember where you put your gloves and cardcase; keep the former mended and the latter filled. do recollect that your health is more important than your amusements; you can live without one, but you'll die early without the other. do try to be sensible; it is not a particular sign of superiority to talk like a fool. [illustration: the princess of wales.] [illustration: a society belle--"call again."] [illustration: a call from baby's admirers.] do be ready in time for church; if you do not respect yourself sufficiently to be punctual, respect the feelings of other people. do get up in time for breakfast. do avoid causes of irritation in your family circle; do reflect that home is the place in which to be agreeable. do be reticent; the world at large has no interest in your private affairs. do cultivate the habit of listening to others; it will make you an invaluable member of society, to say nothing of the advantage it will be to you. do be truthful; do avoid exaggeration; if you mean a mile say a mile, not a mile and a half; if you mean one say one, and not a dozen. young ladies, take heed. do, sometimes, at least, allow your mother to know better than you do; she was educated before you were born. do sign your full name to your letters. do learn to say "no." do, if you have brothers, try to gain their confidence, to be interested in their sports, to cultivate their manners, not by censure, but by the force of your own example. do laugh, girls, not boisterously, not constantly, but clearly and pleasantly, but _don't_ giggle. if girls from fourteen to eighteen could only understand the vulgarity of continually putting their heads together and giggling, as if the whole world was a supremely ridiculous affair, about which they must chuckle, and whisper, when in truth their own actions are the one thing ridiculous, they would refrain from such unmitigated nonsense. do be exquisitely neat in your attire. beware of the lawn dress, the light kids, the collar, the laces that are worn once too often. do be careful about giving away your photographs, especially to men. you would hardly like to hear the comments that are sometimes passed upon them. if you cannot learn to say "no," refrain from displaying them to your gentleman friends. some do's for boys. as for boys, there are a few "do's" for them to consider if they would become that noblest work of god, a true man, a gentleman. do respect your father and mother and give them their proper titles at all times. to call them "the governor" and "the old lady," does not in the least add to your supposed manliness, but rather displays a very unmanly fear on your part that people might suppose you were in some degree under their authority; not only an unmanly, but a foolish fear, since no one is fit for authority until he has first learned obedience. do learn to respect women. never speak slightingly of their worth, nor trifle with their name. learn the lesson now, and you will find its value in your manhood. do treat your sisters and your girl schoolmates in a gentlemanly manner. you have no idea how much it will add to your own appearance. do guard against a profusion of slang that would do credit to a pickpocket. do be determined not to use profane expressions in the presence of ladies, children, or ministers, or anywhere else. do keep your lips from uttering coarse and unclean things that you would blush to have overheard by mother or sister. more than this, do not listen to them from the lips of others. a pure-minded boy will be a pure-minded man. do take care of your various belongings; do not expect mother or sisters to pick up your necktie, your gloves, your schoolbooks, your hat, from as many different places as there are articles, and put them properly away. it is quite as necessary for boys or men to have some neatness in their habits as for girls or women. do learn to help yourself occasionally. it is quite possible that you should be able to arrange a necktie, comb your hair, or get the articles together for a fresh toilet without calling some one to your assistance. quite possible and vastly convenient for other members of the household. do close the doors without slamming; don't tear the house down. do lower your voice sometimes; everyone is not deaf. do be neat in personal appearance; collars, handkerchiefs and cuffs, should be spotlessly clean, and hands and finger nails receive careful attention. do not fail to use three brushes every day--the tooth-brush, the clothes-brush and the blacking-brush. do break yourself of disagreeable personal habits. do not yawn in people's faces, lounge in your chair, scratch head or person, or clean finger-nails when others are present. do not forget to use your handkerchief, and that quietly as possible. do decide that temperate habits are more manly than intemperate ones, and don't think that it is one of your "rights" to smoke cigarettes. do learn to say "no," to lead sometimes instead of always following. do be careful of your manners. remember that as the twig is bent, so the tree is inclined, and that the polished boy will be the polished man. polish, it is to be understood, is not inconsistent with strength, but rather adds to it. the strongest machinery is of the finest polish, and the damascus blade is of the surest mettle. do be sure to give up your seat in omnibus or car to a lady. even if she be not sufficiently grateful, you have shown your good breeding. do remember to remove your hat when you enter a house, private office, hotel elevator (if ladies are present), when you bow to a lady or when you offer to assist a lady. do lay these "do's" up in your memory and practice them in your lives. guard the voice. a harsh voice, or shrill, high-pitched tones, are a source of discomfort to all who hear them. nothing gives a more favorable impression of good breeding than a voice, musical, clear, low in its key, and careful in its articulation. george eliot, who had a face of extreme plainness, possessed a low musical voice that had a perfect fascination for the listener. at times such a voice is the gift of nature, but usually it requires careful cultivation, and the earlier the age at which this cultivation begins, the surer and the simpler is the price of success. children can be early taught not to raise their voices shrilly to demand attention, but to speak softly and gently at home, and then their "company voice" will possess a natural quality. train the tones softly and sweetly now, and they will keep in tune through life. those whose early education in this respect has been neglected will win success only at the price of eternal vigilance. a few lessons in voice culture will work wonders in training the ear to appreciate the different keys, the voice to acquire lower and richer tones, and the articulation to become clear and distinct. even where there are serious vocal defects, such as stammering, lisping, etc., they can be relieved by some good teacher of voice-culture. indeed, some attention to the culture of voices ought to become a necessary part of education. a low, sweet voice is like a lark's song in heart and home, and the self-control necessary to always keep it at this harmonious level, exercises a most salutary influence over mind and temper. how to treat servants. a large proportion of the domestic economy in many households is left entirely in the hands of servants, and on the good or ill behavior of these servants depends the comfort of the home, and the behavior of the servants depends very greatly upon the behavior of their employers toward them. the manner even of addressing servants in this country is rather important, offense being so readily taken at what is deemed disrespect. men servants may be addressed by their last name without any prefix. if they have been in the family a long time the first name may be used, if desired. in addressing servants that are perfect strangers it can be generally managed without the use of any name. in writing to them address without prefix, as, robert johnson. do not be insolent towards, or demand too much of, servants. they have very much the same feelings of pride that the house-mistress has, and the less those feelings are wounded the better help they will render. do not reprimand them before guests. nothing so injures their self-respect or so tends to make them careless. whatever the blunder, be apparently unmoved in the presence of your guests. save all reproof until their departure. have a perfect understanding of the work you would have them perform, if you would have them accomplish it satisfactorily. ignorance never yet made a good master or mistress, and always puts a premium on incompetency on the part of employés. have rules and enforce them. require all house servants to be quiet in their movements, not to slam doors or rattle china. impress upon them the importance of dressing neatly. teach them to treat all comers with politeness; to answer the door-bell promptly and to thoroughly understand whatever rules you may have about being "engaged" or "not at home." if reproof is to be administered or orders, given, it is much better that the servant be called upstairs to receive them, than for the house mistress to descend to the kitchen. this will insure an opportunity should dispute arise of dismissing the employé to the kitchen with but loss of dignity on her part; while, if it is in the kitchen that the difference of opinion may arise, the house-mistress must herself leave the field. insist upon systematic arrangement of the week's work, and punctuality in carrying out its details. explain carefully to all newly-engaged servants the routine of the house and expect them to conform to it. be mild but firm in exercising authority, and servants will respect you and your rules. if there is a housekeeper, all these details will be committed to her hands, and she has need to be competent, compelling respect, to be fitted for the position. teach servants not to expect fees from your visitors. respect all their privileges. see that their evenings out, and their precious sunday afternoons are not encroached upon. give them all the needed opportunity to attend their own place of worship. see that children of the family are respectful toward them, not disturbing them at their work; prefacing their requests with "please," and thanking them for any favor. rights of others. respect the rights of all members of the household. remember that each one has a perfect right to open his or her own correspondence. no difference if one is ready to confide the contents of the letter the moment it is read, there is still a pleasure in opening one's own correspondence. respect the belongings of another, no matter how close the relationship. the careful member of the family suffers at seeing his belongings misused and destroyed by the careless one. discourage borrowing among the members of a family. teach each one to have all necessary articles of their own and to care for them properly. guests in a family should also be very careful in this respect. boxes, drawers, or any repositories of any kind, should be scrupulously respected. private papers, even if not protected by lock and key, should not be glanced at. a due observance of these rules, while making home life pleasanter, might in after years lead to a little less tampering with the larger rights of law and property, for "manners are but the shadows of great virtues." [illustration] etiquette for children. [illustration] jean paul richter, in his great work on education (_levana_), intimates that we scarcely realize the momentous possibilities that lie all about us folded up in the heart of childhood, as the blushing petals of the beauteous blossom yet to be lie folded close within the sheltering calyx. "do you know," he queries, "whether the little boy who plucks flowers at your side may not one day, from his island of corsica, descend as a war-god into a stormy universe to play with hurricanes for destruction, or to purify and plant the world with harvests?" and just because we do not know the extent of these possibilities, children must be carefully trained to fill whatever post or province may be theirs in the time to come. now, they are in our hands to mold as we will; then, they will be the masters, and much of the character of their sway will depend upon the guidance of the present. viewed in this light, the manners and the morals of children, closely associated as they are, become of the greatest importance to the world. power of example. teach the embryo man or woman, in the nursery, the traits, the habits, the customs of the best etiquette, and you have stamped upon them, at an age when the character is impressible as wax, not only the outer semblance, but, in a great degree, the inner reality, of a true man or woman. let the children grow up in a home where rude gestures, or ill-tempered words are unknown, where truthfulness, kindliness, forgetfulness of self and careful consideration of others, permeates the very atmosphere, and they will go forth into the world armed with the integrity in which all men may trust, the polish that will win them admiration, and the true refinement that will render their friendship elevating. see, also, that there is perfect unanimity between the parents as to the government and instruction of the children in the household, and, if any difference should arise, it should be settled in private. children, being strongly imitative, are best taught by example. never reprove unless absolutely necessary, and never let the voice rise excitedly to ensure obedience. by keeping your own voice low and calm, you do much toward lowering the key of their high-pitched, childish treble, and soothing the troubled waters of their souls. keeping promises. never permit yourself to threaten where you do not perform; children are quick to learn the value of your promises, and place very accurate estimates, in their own minds, as to what their parents will, or will not do under given circumstances. absolute truthfulness can never be taught a child by precept, when by constant example he is taught that the word of his parents has little or no value in his own case, so far as threats and punishments, or even rewards, extend. if a punishment is the penalty for a broken law, see that it is inflicted; if a reward is promised, be sure that it is given. enjoin upon children strict justice in their dealings one with another, even in their games, never allowing the stronger to impose upon the weak, but teaching forbearance and tenderness in all their actions. talebearing. discourage, as far as possible, all talebearing in the home, and, as a rule, do not listen to complaints, and long recitals of injuries received from little playfellows. care in this respect will nip in the bud the tendency toward exaggeration and talebearing that so early develops in a child, and so soon matures into the "gossip" of riper years. this demand for exactitude in childish statements will pave the way for strictly truthful declarations in the more important affairs of later life, redounding thus to the lasting benefit of the individual and the community. truthfulness. the least approach toward prevarication, or concealment of their childish misdemeanors, should be treated as a grave fault. to prevent, as far as possible, all attempts at disguising the truth, penalties for faults should rarely be of so severe a nature that the little transgressor resorts to evasion through fear of the consequences. respectfulness. children should be taught to be respectful toward their parents and others older than themselves, to be polite towards those of their own age, and very thoughtful for the comfort of the sick and weak. respect must also be shown toward servants and dependants, and no unnecessary demands made upon their time or services. obedience. prompt obedience should always be demanded of a child, and the spirit of murmuring and questioning firmly repressed. none can command except they have first learned to obey. do not allow children to tease, nor, having once refused on good and sufficient ground, suffer your consent to be gained by siege. make your refusal final, but do not refuse thoughtlessly, or for mere caprice. the wishes of a child are as real to him as those of grown people are to them. manner of address. rudeness and abruptness must never be tolerated in the manners of a child. "yes," and "no," in reply, and "what?" in interrogatory, are uncouth and disagreeable in sound. "yes, sir," "yes, ma'am," and "what, ma'am," are much better substituted, but even these are open to criticism. english etiquette relegates "sir" and "ma'am" to the use of servants, save in case of addressing the higher nobility when "sir" is sometimes used. [illustration: the nursery.] the better and more graceful etiquette of the day would teach a child to say, "yes, mamma," "no, papa;" or a student at school to address the teachers as, "yes, prof. stanley," "no, miss livingstone." if they fail to understand a remark, a quick, "beg pardon," or, "i beg your pardon," or even, "i did not understand," can soon be taught to even childish lips and never be forgotten as they advance to maturity. the use of "please," and "thank you," or, "i thank you," (never the thankless "thanks,") should be early impressed upon their minds. teach them never to speak of grown people without prefixing "mr.", "mrs.", or "miss," to their name. it is very objectionable for a child to fall into the habit of saying "brown did so and so," instead of, "mr. brown, etc." insist, too, that at school they shall never say "teacher," but address their preceptor by his proper name. impress upon children that they must answer politely when spoken to, but strictly repress any tendency on their part toward questioning visitors at the house. here let it be added, for the benefit of their elders, that nothing can be a surer evidence of ill-breeding than for a grown person to question a child in regard to his family affairs. interrupting conversation. never permit children to interrupt the conversation of their elders, and see, as a preparation for this, that among the little ones themselves, one who has a story to tell is permitted to finish without an impatient brother or sister breaking in with his, or her, version of the same tale. see that each has his turn and many of the noisy disagreements of the playroom will thus be done away with. insist, too, upon the lowering of each eager little voice, and a long step will have been taken toward doing away with the high-keyed voices and the all-talking-together habits that afflict so many of their elders. see, too, that the children, while not allowed to interrupt the conversation of grown persons, receive in some degree the same consideration from them. in other words, let the children talk sometimes, and listen to them sincerely and respectfully. there is no better way to train a child in courtesy than to observe toward it the most scrupulous politeness, and a child whose own conversation is respected can be easily taught to respect the conversation of others, and to know when to talk and when to be silent. this habit of listening, inculcated in childhood, will do much toward forming agreeable members of society in after years. if a guest should converse with a child for a moment, watch that it does not make itself tiresome by engaging his or her entire attention. "showing off." never "show off" children to visitors. it fosters in them a feeling of vanity, and is often very tedious to the persons upon whom it is inflicted, it being barely possible that your own estimate of their brilliancy is not shared by outsiders. neither should strangers be allowed, under any circumstances, at home or abroad, to tease a child "just for fun." its angry answers may be amusing, but the practice is one that works irreparable injury to the child. as soon as this tendency is discovered in a visitor, send the child quietly, but firmly, from the room, remarking casually, when it is gone, "that children are apt to be troublesome when they talk too much." reproof before others. never, unless it is absolutely unavoidable, reprove a child in the presence of strangers. to do this injures their feeling of self-respect. it is an annoyance to the visitor also. while it frequently happens that a word of timely admonition is necessary, all extended reproof should be left until alone with the child. cleanliness and order. insist upon cleanliness in dress, and teach the children early that their hair should be combed, their teeth and finger-nails clean, and their clothing fresh and neat upon all occasions. teach the boys that their shoes should be polished and free from dust, and their clothes thoroughly brushed. slippers should be furnished boys for house wear, and the importance of using a doormat before entering should be early impressed upon both girls and boys. teach them also order and care as to their personal belongings, and the lessons of neatness thus early inculcated will be of untold value in their after life. home hints. cultivate in children the habit of assuming pleasing attitudes. do not let them constantly lounge about over chairs, couches and tables, and their company manners will not then be a terror in the house. teach them the proper use of a handkerchief, and insist that they observe it. instruct them what to do with their hands and feet, never twisting the former, or swinging the latter. never permit them to scratch the head or person, to clean ears or finger nails, or to use a toothpick in public. teach them to suppress a yawn or to conceal the mouth with the hand. do not let them pass in front of people in a room, or, if from the arrangement of the furniture it is impossible to avoid so doing, let them ask to be excused. if they should accidently tread upon the toes, or otherwise disturb a guest, teach them at once to apologize with an "excuse me," or, "i beg your pardon." do not permit them to slam doors, or to shout up and down stairs. never allow requests or messages to be called from one end of the house to the other; insist upon a child coming into the room with whatever he or she may have to say. impress upon boys and girls not to stare at others, nor to take any apparent notice of personal peculiarities, deformities, or oddities of dress or demeanor. teach the children always to play a fair game upon the playground, and not to lose their tempers over any little difference of opinion that may arise during its course. do not allow them to be cruel in their treatment of animals; to do so, is to deliberately teach them habits of cruelty for a lifetime and render them brutal in disposition. "visiting." children should not be allowed to "visit" other children solely upon the request of the children. the invitation should come from the parents. otherwise great annoyance may result from such unconsidered calls. do not take children while making formal visits. they are often an annoyance, and always a check upon conversation. if they must be taken, do not allow them to meddle with anything in the room, nor to interrupt the conversation. neither should they be permitted to handle the belongings, or finger the attire, of callers at the house. do not take them to art galleries, artist's or sculptor's studios, and never allow them to meddle with goods in stores. slang, profanity, intemperance. slang should be eliminated, as much as possible, from the household vocabulary. boys should be taught that profanity, or vulgarity in expression, far from being manly, only lowers them in the estimation of all sensible people. it should also be early impressed upon them that there is danger in the use of liquor in any form, as well as folly in falling into the tobacco habit. at table. punctuality at the table should be taught first of all. the little table observances so necessary to refinement of manner should be early inculcated. table manners (see proper department) should be taught at the earliest age that the child is capable of appearing at the table. the proper use of knife, fork, spoon and napkin should be impressed upon their minds from the first, and much after annoyance will be saved. teach them to eat quietly without any noise of mastication, swallowing or drinking being audible. insist upon their sitting still while waiting to be served and not to play with knife, napkin ring or other small articles on the table. insist upon their breaking bread, instead of cutting it, and never to pick up one piece of bread or cake from the plate and then exchange it for another. teach them to eat fruit properly, to use finger bowls, if such are provided, and to keep their lips closed as much as possible while eating. teach them to pass a pitcher with the handle toward the one served, and not to eat with one hand and pass some article with the other. see that they do not eat too fast--both health and appearances being considered in this item--and that they do not talk with their mouths full. teach them to turn away their heads and cover their mouth with their hand, if obliged to cough, sneeze or yawn at table, and, as soon as possible, require them to suppress these exhibitions. never let them pick their teeth at the table, or lounge upon it with their elbows while eating. leaving the table. if children must leave the table before the meal is over, they should ask to be excused, and should never rise with their mouth full. when they have once left the table, do not, as a rule, permit them to return, for a child soon falls into the habit, if permitted, of leaving the table to play, and returning to complete his meal. teach children not to complain of the food set before them; but, at the same time, if a child has known likes or dislikes, they should be, to a certain extent, gratified, since, to some delicately constituted temperaments, a compelled partaking of some obnoxious dish is a real torture. teach them also to acquire a liking for as large a variety of food as possible. in after life, on many occasions, this may be a great convenience. in conclusion, let it be added that the department on home etiquette should be read in connection with this, especially the section devoted to children. see to it carefully that children are not taught one code of manners for company use, and permitted to exercise no manners for home use. dinner giving. [illustration] "man is essentially a dining animal. creatures of the inferior races eat and drink; only man dines!" and he should do it properly. "to invite a friend to dinner," says brillat savarin, "is to become responsible for his happiness so long as he is under your roof." if, therefore, any lady would entertain her friends in the best manner that her means permit, it will be well for her to understand the routine of the table herself, and never trust entirely to the skill of an ordinary cook. it is hardly to be expected that she should understand the preparation of each dish, but she must be capable of judging it when served. if she distrusts her own power of arranging a _menu_, and seeing it properly carried out, the dinner should be ordered from the best of caterers. then, with full assurance of perfect cookery, and faultless service, one may prepare one's list of favored guests with a peaceful conscience and a mind free from care. invitations. forms of invitations suited to all classes of dinners, have been given at length in the department devoted to that subject, and acceptances and regrets for the same carefully explained, together with the obligation upon every one to answer all such invitations at once, either in the affirmative or negative. since a dinner is, in all respects, so important a social event that the least one can do is to signify immediately one's course of action, sidney smith was not so far out of the way when he burlesqued the solemnity of the occasion, and the aversion that all dinner-givers have to an empty chair, when he wittily wrote: "a man should, if he die after having accepted an invitation to dinner, leave his executors a solemn charge to fill his place." host and hostess. the hostess is expected to put her guests, as much as possible, at their ease. she must encourage the timid, and watch the requirements of all. no accident must ruffle her temper. in short, she must, for the time, be that perfect woman who is-- "mistress of herself though china fall." she must not seem to watch her servants; she must not scold them. her brow must remain smooth through all embarrassing hitches, her smile be bright and quick, her attentions close and complimentary to her guests. on the host devolves the duty of drawing out any of the guests with whose particular specialties he is acquainted, and his manners, too, must at least simulate ease, if he have it not. let host and hostess refrain from boasting of the price of any article of food upon the table. whom to invite. all the tact and good breeding at the command of the hostess should be exercised, first in choosing, then in arranging, the guests to be present. not too many are to be bidden to the ordinary dinner; six, eight and twelve are desirable numbers, and four frequently forms the cosiest party imaginable. the reason of thus arranging for even numbers arises from the fact that, in a mixed dinner party, it is well to have as many ladies as gentlemen. the conversation will then be prevented from dropping into long, or heated, discussions, both of which are destructive of pleasure. it will also be found pleasant to invite the young, and those of more advanced years, together for an occasion of this sort. large parties may be made very enjoyable, but where there are more than eight or ten at table general conversation becomes impracticable. twenty-four, and even thirty, guests, however, when well selected, may make a very brilliant and successful gathering. too brilliant a conversationalist is not always a desirable acquisition, since he may silence and put in the shade the remainder of the company to an extent that is hardly agreeable even to the meekest among them. a small dinner of one's most intimate friends is easily arranged. an eminent artist, author, musician, to pose as chief guest, renders it always easy to select among one's other acquaintances a sufficient number who would be pleased with, and pleasing to, this bright, particular star. or, if it be a bride, or a woman of fashion, to whom the courtesy is to be extended, it is equally easy to find a sufficient number of guests of similar social standing and aspirations to make the occasion a success. there is also the satisfaction of knowing that, as one cannot possibly invite all of one's dear five hundred friends to a little dinner, no one can be offended at being left out, thus rendering it easy to choose one's list to fit the circumstances. do not invite more guests than there is room to comfortably seat. nothing so spoils a dinner as crowding the guests. seating the guests. since, at no social entertainment are the guests so dependent upon one another for mutual entertainment as at a dinner, both by reason of its smallness and the compactness of arrangement, it will be seen that an equal care devolves upon the hostess in seating as in inviting her guests. the most tedious of one's friends can be tolerated at a party where it is possible to turn to others for relief, but to be chained for two or three hours, with the necessity upon you of talking, or trying to talk, to the same dull or conceited individual that the fates have unkindly awarded as your companion, is a severe social strain upon equanimity of soul. hence, each hostess should strive to so arrange her guests that like-minded people should be seated together, and people with hobbies should either be handed over to those likewise possessed, or into the hands of some sympathetic listener, thus securing the pleasure of all. known enemies should be seated as far apart as possible, and, in reality, should never be invited to the same dinner. if this should inadvertently happen, they must remember that common respect for their hostess demands that they recognize one another with ordinary politeness. laying the table. much has been said upon this subject in the department of "table etiquette," and as laying the table formally for a state affair approaches so nearly the proper setting of the home table, much will be found there that is available upon this important topic. the table, which, since the introduction of the extension, is no longer the cosy round form which brought the guests so comfortably near one another, should be first covered with heavy felting, or double canton flannel. over this is to be laid the heaviest, snowiest damask cloth that the linen closet affords. this should have been faultlessly laundried, and is accompanied by large, fine napkins matching the cloth in design. these should be very simply folded, and without starch, and are laid just beyond the plate toward the center of the table. square is the best form for folding, and each should contain a small thick piece of bread in its folds. this should be about three inches long and at least an inch thick. this is to be eaten with the soup, not crumbed into it. a roll sometimes takes its place. some hostesses have the bread passed in a silver basket. a plate is furnished each place, large enough to contain the majolica plate for raw oysters. of course a small plain plate may be used for these, but those designed for the purpose are much more elegant. a tiny, fancy salt is provided for each place (see farther in "table etiquette"). two knives, three forks, and a soup spoon, all of silver, are placed at each plate. some dinner-givers place the knives, forks, and spoon, all on the right side of the plate, excepting the small, peculiarly-shaped oyster fork, which is placed at the left, it having been decided that raw oysters shall be eaten with the fork in the left hand, prongs down. still other hostesses place the knives and spoon at the right hand, the forks at the left, the oyster fork diagonally, with the prongs crossing the handles of the others, the law of their arrangement being nowise immutable in its nature. silver, glass, and china, should all be of the brightest. at the right hand of each guest should be placed an engraved glass for water. to make certain that these are in line all around, it is well to measure with the hand from the edge of the table to the tip of the middle finger and there place the glass; following this rule around the entire circumference. this glass, if wine is used, gives a center, round which the vari-colored wineglasses may be grouped. a well-furnished sideboard. the sideboard should contain relays of knives, forks, and spoons, in rows; glasses, dinner plates, finger bowls standing on the fruit plates, as well as any other accessories that may be needed. at another sideboard, or table, the head waiter, or the butler, does the carving. if the room is small, this last may be relegated to hall or pantry. in luxurious houses the sideboards are often devoted to bewildering displays of rare china, and cut glass, but in more modest domiciles they are used simply for the needs of the hour. water carafes (water bottles) are placed between every two or three guests. the table should be laid in time,--thus, if the dinner is to be at seven, all things should be in readiness on table and sideboard at six o'clock; this course preventing the slightest confusion. if the dinner napkins are to be changed for smaller ones, these also should be laid in readiness. all the cold dishes, salads, relishes, condiments, etc., should also be on hand. the most elegant tables frequently have a long mat, or scarf, of ruby, or some other colored plush, with fringed and embroidered ends, laid the entire length down through the center of the table. this affords a charming contrast to the snowy napery, and sets the keynote of color for the floral decorations. the center decorative pieces are now no longer high, thus rendering a glimpse of the person opposite almost impossible, but are low and long. a mirror, framed in silver, may be set in the center of one of these plush mats; and upon this artistically arranged floral decorations are placed to be reflected in its polished depths. where massive silver table-wares are heirlooms in the family, they are used, despite their height. center pieces that are recent purchases, are usually of glass, cut and jewelled, until their brilliancy is a marvel in the lamplight. table decorations. where the resources of the dinner-giver are limited, the simple decoration of a few flowers arranged in a fanciful basket, or a rare old bowl filled with roses, is sufficient, and is far more indicative of taste and breeding than many of the set floral pieces fresh from the florist's hand, and speaking more eloquently of the size of his bill, than of taste or appropriateness. the fancy of the hour, and a pretty one it is, is for massing one variety of flower for decorative purposes. banks of crimson roses down the center of the snowy cloth, or great clusters of vivid red flowers, can be very effectively employed. shells may be filled with flowers and used as a table decoration. a large one in the middle, and a smaller one on each side, has a pleasing effect. at each plate a small bouquet of flowers may be laid, those for the gentlemen arranged as buttonholes. in choosing the flowers for decorations, avoid those blossoms having a heavy fragrance, such as the tuberose, jasmines, syringas, as their penetrating odor is productive of faintness in some, and is disagreeable to many, while roses, lilies, lilacs, and many other delicately-scented blossoms, are pleasant to all. naturalness is to be aimed at in these decorations, and set floral pieces are in bad taste at a private dinner. though hundreds of dollars may have been spent in the fleeting loveliness of flowers, the effect to be aimed at is naturalness rather than display. a border of holly, or ivy leaves freshly gathered, may be sewed around the plush scarf through the center of the table, and is a beautiful decoration, far outshining gold embroidery and lace. harmonize the color of this scarf with the decorations of the dining-room. blue, however, or green, does not light up well, while ruby, or some other red, brings out the effect of glass, china, and silver to the best advantage. old gold, or olive-brown, is also very pretty. the dining-room should be carpeted to deaden the sound of footsteps. lighting the table. gas is, perforce, the most common, but not by any means the most æsthetic means of table illumination, because of its heating and glaring qualities. wax candles are extremely pretty with tissue shades to match the prevailing tint of the other decorations, besides giving an opportunity for displaying all manner of pretty conceits in candelabra. about twenty-six candles will, all other conditions being favorable, light a table for twelve guests. much depends, however, on whether the dining-room is finished in light or dark woods as to the number of candles required. very carefully filled and carefully cared-for lamps of pretty designs are also, especially in country places, an admirable method of lighting the table. serving the dinner. there are two methods of performing this most important function of the entire dinner, namely, service _à la russe_, and the american service. the first named, the russian service, is universally adopted in all countries at dinners where the requisite number of sufficiently well-trained servants are to be had. this service, which consists in having all articles of food carved, and otherwise prepared, and brought to the guests separately by waiters, or footmen, as they are called in england at private tables, has the advantage of leaving the host and hostess free to converse with their guests. it also has another advantage of presenting the table, as the guests enter the room, free from dishes, save the oyster plates, glass, silver, flowers, and perhaps at the two ends of the board, bohemian glass flagons, of ruby-red, containing such decanted wines as do not need icing. the table also, being so carefully cleared at the end of each course, should present about the same faultless appearance at the close of the feast as at its beginning. the guests being seated at their respective places, majolica plates containing raw oysters on the half-shell, or otherwise, with a piece of lemon in the center are, if not already in place, immediately put before each guest. the roll, or piece of bread, should be at once removed from the folds of the napkin, and the servants, when all are seated, pass red and black pepper. the oyster plates are then removed and plates of soup follow, dished from a side table by the head waiter, and served by two others, who pass down opposite sides of the table carrying each two dishes. where two kinds of soup are provided, each guest is given the choice. how the dishes are to be passed. the servants, in passing the dishes, begin with the guest upon the right hand of the master on one side of the table, ending with the mistress of the house. upon the other side they begin with the guest upon her right and end with the host. as one servant passes the meat or fish, another should follow, bearing the appropriate sauce or vegetable that accompanies it. the servants should wear thin-soled shoes, step lightly, be ungloved, and always have a small-sized damask napkin wrapped around the thumb of the right hand, as dexterity in handling the dishes requires that they should extend the thumb over the edge of the dish. they should pass all dishes at the left of the guests, that their right hand may be free to take them. wines only are excepted, these being always poured at the right. servants should never lean across any guest at table in order to reach or pass an article. in passing an _entrée_ (ongtray), which is simply a dish served in the first course after fish, the dish should be supplied with a silver spoon and fork and held low enough so that the guests can help themselves easily. _entrées_ follow the roasts sometimes, as well as, or instead of, coming after fish. sweetbreads and croquettes come under this head. these require hot plates. the soup removed, which should be done quickly as possible, fish should be immediately served, together with whatever vegetables form the accompaniment. when these plates are removed the roast meats are served on hot plates. one vegetable is usually served with each meat course, and occasionally some vegetable forms a course by itself. this, however, only lengthens out the repast, and is not to be recommended. a fresh plate is served with each course, it being the rule that no two meals should be eaten from the same plate. serving the different courses. game forms the next course, with such sauces and accompaniments as are desired. the salad follows and usually forms a course by itself, accompanied by crackers, or thinly buttered half slices of brown bread. these are usually passed in a silver breadbasket. roman punch, when it is served, comes between the roasts and the game, thus preparing the palate for the new flavor. cheese follows the salad sometimes, and sometimes accompanies it. then the ices and sweets. when the ices are removed, the desert plates, overlaid with a dainty doily, upon which is set a finger-bowl, are passed, and the fruits appear. confections are then served, to be followed with black coffee in tiny after-dinner coffee-cups, which are passed on a salver, together with lump sugar, and small gold or silver spoons; no cream. the strong, french _café et noir_ [transcriber's note: café noir], or black coffee, is always used. if liquors are served they come in here, a decanter of cognac being frequently handed around with the coffee. jellies for the meats, relishes such as olives, celery and radishes; all the sharp sauces and condiments which are to be used during the meal, are on a sideboard, together with a silver breadbasket containing a reserve of bread. the butler should have some means of signalling for anything wanted by means of a bell that rings in the kitchen, also of letting the cook know when it is time to send up another course. guests, while not expected to ask for second helpings of any course, are always permitted to ask for renewed supplies of bread, water or champagne when wished. all dishes are to be removed quietly, and either placed in a dumbwaiter or given in charge of a maidservant just outside the door. if it is necessary to have any dishes or silver used again, they must be cleansed out of sight and hearing of the guests, as also no odor of cookery must reach the dining-room. large, flat baskets must be in readiness to transport the china and silver to the kitchen. to wait at a large dinner the attendants should average one to every three people: hence, it will be well for the small household to engage outside attendance. very skilful servants have been known to successfully attend to as many as six guests, but one must be sure of this beforehand. the menu. it will be seen after a perusal of this that the order of the formal, modern dinner _à la russe_, is very much as follows: oysters, soup, fish, roast, entrées, roman punch, game, salad and cheese, dessert, fruits, sweets, coffee. to make this clearer, one bill of fare will be given as an example, always remembering that the number of courses may be lessened in order to suit the taste or purse of the host. many courses are not a necessity, but the finest quality and the best of cookery should mark each dish served. every dinner should begin with soup, to be followed by fish, and include some kind of game. to this order there is no repeal, since "soup is to the dinner," says de la regnier, "what the portico is to the building or the overture is to an opera." from this there is never any deviation. a standard bill of fare for a well-regulated dinner is as follows: oysters on the half-shell. mock turtle soup. salmon with lobster sauce. cucumbers. chicken croquettes. tomato sauce. roast lamb with spinach. canvas-back duck. celery. string beans served on toast. lettuce salad. cheese omelet. pineapple bavarian cream. charlotte russe. ices. fruits. coffee. each course may be served on dishes different from the other courses; also fancy dishes, unlike any of the rest, may be used to pass relishes, such as olives, and add greatly to the beauty of the table service. suitable sets for fish and game, decorated in accordance, are greatly to be admired. menu holders are frequently very pretty, and upon the menu card itself much taste and expense are sometimes lavished. still it is not considered good taste to have them at every plate, for the reason that it savors too much of hotel style. the guests are expected to allow their glasses to be filled at every course. if it is something for which they do not care, they may content themselves with a few morsels of bread and a sip or two of water until the next course is served. the host should always have a menu at his plate, that he may see if the dinner is moving properly in its appointed course. favors. very pretty favors besides flowers are frequently laid at the ladies' plates to serve as souvenirs of the occasion. the location card or name card may be very beautifully painted. other articles, such as decorated easter eggs of plush, velvet, or satin handkerchief holders, fans, painted satin bags, etc., are all in good taste. each of them, if possible, is made to open and disclose some choice confection. they may be ordered in quantity from some house dealing in such articles, or many of them can be prettily and inexpensively devised at home by any one having sufficient time and taste. baskets of flowers, with bows of broad satin ribbon tied on one side the handle, are also suitable for both ladies and gentlemen. gentlemen's favors are usually useful, such as scarf pins, sleeve buttons, small purses, etc. wines, and how to serve them. fortunately, since more than once the first lady in our land, for the time being, has proven to us by example that the stateliest of dinners may be wineless, it is far from necessary that wine should be served. still, if wines are to be used, they should be brought on correctly, each wine having its proper place in the varied courses of a dinner, as each note has its fit position in a chord of music. by long-established custom certain wines have come to be taken with certain dishes. "sherry and sauterne," as given by a very good authority, "go with soup and fish; hock and claret with roast meats; punch with turtle; champagne with sweet breads or cutlets; port with venison; port or burgundy with other game; sparkling wines between the meats and the confectionery; madeira with sweets; port with cheese; sherry and claret, port, tokay and madeira with dessert." red wines should never be iced, even in summer; claret and burgundy should always be slightly warmed (left in a warm room is sufficient). claret-cup and champagne are iced (some epicures object to this). cool the wines in the bottles. to put clear ice in the glasses is simply to weaken the quality and flavor of the wine, and, as a matter of fact, to serve wine and water. the glasses for the various wines are usually grouped at the right of the plate, and as different styles and sizes are used for different wines, it is well for the novice to be accustomed to these in order to avoid the awkwardness of putting forward the wrong glass. high and narrow, also very broad and shallow glasses, are used for champagne; large, goblet-shaped glasses for burgundy and a ruby-red glass for claret; ordinary wineglasses for sherry and madeira; green bohemian glasses for hock; and large, bell-shaped glasses for port. port, sherry and madeira are decanted. hock and champagne appear in their native bottles. claret and burgundy are handed around in a claret jug. in handing a bottle fresh from the ice-chest the waiter wraps a napkin around it to absorb the moisture. coffee and liquors should be handed around when the dessert has been about a quarter of an hour on the table. after this the ladies usually retire, a custom that has happily fallen into disrepute, the coffee being served without the liquors, and ladies and gentlemen partaking of it together. roman punch is served in all manner of dainty conceits as to glass, imitations of flowers, etc. never allow servants to overfill the wineglasses. ladies never empty their glasses, and usually take but one kind of wine. this is especially true of young ladies, who, very often, do not taste their one glass. gracefully declined. if wine is not desired from principle, merely touching the brim of the glass with the finger-tip is all the refusal a well-trained servant needs. a still better plan is to permit one glass to be filled and allow it to stand untasted at your plate. in responding to a health, it is ungracious not to, at least, lift the glass and let its contents touch the lips. never make your refusal of wine conspicuous. your position as guest in no wise appoints you a censor of your host's conduct in offering wine at his table, and any marked feeling displayed on the subject would simply show a want of consideration and good breeding. a dinner given to a person of known temperance principles is often marked, in compliment, by an entire absence of wine. if there is but one wine served with a simple dinner, it should be sherry or claret, and should be in glass decanters on the table. the guests can help themselves; the hostess can offer it immediately after soup. the announcement of dinner is given as quietly as possible. the butler, or head waiter, who should be in full evening dress, minus gloves, quietly says, "dinner is served," or, as in france, "madame is served." better still, he catches the eye of the hostess and simply bows, whereupon she immediately rises, and the guests following her example, the order of the procession to the dining-room is formed at once. the waiters, aside from the head one, are usually in livery. order of precedence. in the matter of going out to dinner the host takes precedence, giving his right arm to the most honored lady guest. if the dinner is given in honor of any particular guest, she is the one chosen, if not, any bride that may be present, or the oldest lady, or some visitor from abroad. the other guests then fall in line, gentlemen having had their partners pointed out to them, and wherever necessary, introductions are given. the hostess comes last of all, having taken the arm of the gentleman most to be honored. in the dining-room no precedence is observed after the host, save that the younger couples draw back and allow their elders to be seated. precedence of rank is not as common here as in europe. on entering the door, if it is not wide enough to permit of two entering abreast, the gentleman falls back a step and permits the lady to enter first. all remain standing until the hostess seats herself, when the guests find their places, either by means of name cards at their plates, or by a few quiet directions, the gentlemen being seated last. the highest place of honor for gentlemen is at the right of the hostess, the next, at her left, and for ladies at the right and left of their host. the hostess should never eclipse her guests in her toilet, and neither host nor hostess should endeavor to shine in conversation. to draw out the guests, to lead the conversation in pleasant channels, to break up long discussions, and to discover all possibilities of brilliancy in the company around their board, should be their aim. the hostess must never press dishes upon her guests, but they are permitted, if they wish, to praise any viand that has pleased them. the hostess must appear to be eating until all the company have finished, and her watchful eye must see that every want is supplied. at the close of the repast the hostess slightly bows to the lady at the right of the host, when all the guests rise and return in order to the drawing-room. where gentlemen remain around the table for that fraction of an hour,-- "across the walnuts and the wine," all rise, and the gentlemen remain standing until the ladies leave the room. the gentleman who had the honor of escorting the hostess into the table, walks with her to the door; here she pauses to allow the host's companion to pass through, when the host, who has escorted her thither, returns to the table, the other gentlemen following his example. the hostess is the last lady to leave the room, whereupon her escort closes the door and returns to the table, where the gentlemen group themselves carelessly at one end of the table, for that half hour of conversation and cigars. where wine is not used the gentlemen frequently remain behind for smoking, and some hosts immediately withdraw with them to the smoking-room. coffee is frequently served in the drawing-room, where the ladies have had their little chat after the return thither of the gentlemen. informal and easy. the hostess, assisted by a daughter, or a young lady friend, usually pours the beverage, and the gentlemen pass it around to the ladies, thus forming the most delightfully informal groups for conversation. sugar is passed by a servant, or else the hostess drops two or three lumps of it in each saucer, a sugar bowl, with sugar tongs, standing beside her. cream is not the correct thing for after-dinner coffee. very many hostesses, however, prefer to have coffee and fruits finish the table menu, after which the entire party retire to the drawing-room, where, for the half or three-quarters of an hour preceding their departure, soft music from some hidden orchestra may be permitted to fill the air with harmony. occasionally, a little programme is arranged of music and song, to fill this interval. but, in many cases, and wisely, conversation is the preferred entertainment. french terms. good taste now dictates that the bill of fare, where one is printed or written, should be couched in the "king's english," yet, one is so frequently thrown in positions where a knowledge of the french terms so often used in such cases is somewhat of necessity, that a short glossary of the same may be useful: _menu_ bill of fare. _café et noir_ black coffee. _café au lait_ coffee with milk. a dinner begins with, _huitres_ oysters. followed by, _potage_ soup, _hors d'oeuvres_ dainty dishes, _poisson_ fish, _entremets_ vegetables, _roti_ roast, _entrées_ dishes after roast, _gibier_ game, _salades_ salads, _fruits et dessert_ fruits and dessert, _fromage_ cheese, _café_ coffee. right or left arm? this is a disputed question, for the solution of which each party gives valid reasons. most gentlemen prefer to give the right arm, since the seating of the lady is at the right side always; but many, to preserve the feudal significance of the custom that bade the good knight keep his sword arm free for defence, if need be, offer the left. since, too, dinner gowns have usually a train to be managed as best it may, ladies also prefer the tender of the left arm, as that leaves their own left arm free to manage the trailing, silken folds. the right arm, however, has the balance of favor, though gentlemen are bound to follow the example of their host as he precedes them to the dining-room. further hints. members of families should never be seated together. this rule has no exceptions. a gentlemen should never forget the wants of the lady under his charge, but the lady should remember not to monopolize his attention exclusively. the gentleman is supposed to be particularly attentive to the lady at his right, to pass the lady on his left anything with which she may be unsupplied, and to be agreeable to the lady opposite. he will, even if a young man, feel it a mark of respect when he is invited to take an elderly lady down, but if the hostess is careful for the happiness of her guests, he will probably find a young lady at his left hand. in selecting the number of guests, care should be taken that it is not such as shall bring two ladies or two gentlemen together. odd numbers will do this, while even will not. american dinner services. the american dinner service is much more simple, and is the one usually adopted in modest establishments in this country. one well-trained maid should be able to render all the assistance required at the table. given the before-mentioned maid, a lady can, with previous management, give a dinner as elegantly, and perhaps with more perfect hospitality, than where the whole affair is relegated to the hands of an experienced caterer. in laying the table the same manner of arrangement is to be observed as for dinner _à la russe_, save that there are more dishes on the board and the decorations are placed with a view to leaving all the space possible. celery is now served in low, flat dishes, and these, together with olives and various relishes, may be placed on the table in all manner of dainty, ornamental dishes. large spoons for the next course are also supplied. oysters are in place when the guests enter the room, and the servant sometimes passes brown bread to eat with them; this is cut thin, buttered and folded. after passing this it is replaced on the sideboard; water is then poured, when, beginning with the oyster plate of the guest at the right of the host, she removes it, and the others, as rapidly as possible, leaving the under plate. soup tureen, ladle, and plates, or bowls, are then placed before the hostess and the maid, standing at her left hand, takes the plates one by one, and passes them at the left hand of guests. this accomplished, the tureen is removed, and the host, having finished his soup, is ready for the fish, which is placed before him together with hot plates, and potatoes in some form, accompanied or not by a salad. directions to waiters. the servant then proceeds to remove the soup-plates and the plates beneath. by this time the host has divided the fish, and, standing at his left hand, the maid takes the plates as he fills them, and passes them, serving first the guest at his right. a piece of fish, a potato, and a little fish sauce, are placed on each plate. if both salad and potato are served at the same course, place the salad dish before the hostess and let her serve it upon small, extra plates or dishes. if salad alone is served, it is usually placed upon the plate with the fish. the fish-platter should now be removed. the plates may also be taken when it is seen there is no more need of them, beginning with those first served, as it is presumed they will have first finished, since it is etiquette for each guest to begin eating so soon as the plate is placed before him. the next course is the roast. while the host is carving this, one or more varieties of vegetables are set at hand. portions of the meat and the accompanying vegetable are placed on the same plate, and the servant passes them in the same order as before, and immediately follows them with the second or third vegetable dish, if two kinds have been placed on the plate. this is where the gentleman sitting next the lady on the host's right can help her and then himself, afterwards moving it as she passes the plates, so that the other gentlemen can do likewise. if a double course is served, which is hardly advisable, save at very large dinners, the lighter dish is placed before the hostess, and the servant presents each plate to her for a portion before passing it. after this the courses do not move so rapidly and the maid remains standing a little back at the left of the hostess' chair where she can easily observe the slightest signal. the hostess signs when the plates are to be removed, and the principal dishes are allowed to remain until the course is finished. in removing courses no piling up of dishes should be allowed. one plate in each hand is all that can be conveniently managed. after the fish, if other forks are not on the table, they must be supplied for the next course. after the plates are removed, the roast and smaller dishes follow. salads and desserts. sherbet, or wines, are served here, if at all. the game, or poultry, comes next, salads or jelly accompanying it. the salad is placed before the hostess. if salad is served in a separate course, it is usually accompanied by cheese, and sometimes by small pieces of brown bread, thinly buttered and folded. this course finished, everything is removed from the table--plates, dishes, relishes, etc.--crumbs brushed, and the principal dessert-dish placed before the hostess together with every requisite for serving it. the maid then passes the tart or pudding same as the other dishes, taking two plates at a time, and beginning with the two ladies on right and left of host, taking the others in order. each person, on receiving a plate in any course, begins to eat, since this facilitates the serving of the dinner and gives warm dishes to all. the maid, during this course, quietly arranges the fruit-plates, finger-bowls, and the after-dinner coffees and tiny spoons upon the sideboard, when she is ready to remove the dishes, and place the fruit-plates in position. the coffees are then put at each guest's right, unless they are to be served afterward in the drawing-room, and the dinner service is virtually ended. if wine is offered, it is served between the courses, the host helping the lady at his right, and asking the gentleman next to do the same, and so on around the table. both host and hostess should have been able to keep up an interest in the conversation at table, and not to betray the slightest anxiety as to the success of the affair. host or hostess should never make disparaging remarks as to the quality of dishes; and still less should they refer to their costliness, and should know beforehand as to the edge of the carving-knife, as the use of a steel is not permissible. the foregoing rules will be found to embody the simplest and most correct method of serving a dinner _à la american_ [transcriber's note: à l'américaine]. dinner dress. ladies dress elegantly, and in any manner, or color, that fancy or becomingness may dictate. corsages, however, while open at the neck in either square, or heart-shaped fashion, are not as low-cut as for a ball-dress, while the sleeves are usually of demi-length. gloves are always worn, and not removed until seated at the table. they are not resumed afterward unless dancing follows. very young ladies wear less expensive toilets of white or delicately tinted wools, or light-weight silks. gentlemen are expected to wear the conventional evening dress. to be gloved or not to be gloved is a vexed question with them. it is well to be provided with a pair of light gloves, and let your own self-possession and the example of others decide for you at the moment. a gentleman faultlessly gloved cannot go far wrong. coming and going. promptness in arriving is a virtue, but remember that you have no claim upon the time of your host or hostess, until ten or fifteen minutes before the hour appointed, and, if you inadvertently arrive too soon you should remain in the dressing-room until very near the hour. departure is from half to three-quarters of an hour after the repast, and no matter what the entertainment, eleven o'clock should find every dinner guest departed. functions. the practice of calling the ordinary reception, ball, party or dinner a "function" is simply a bad habit. it comes to us from england, where a confusion of ideas has made this word the popular synonym for any social happening. the error in england is perhaps pardonable, for the reason that very many of the society performances there are actually functions, and in course of time the unlearned and the careless have come to call every society performance a function. the royal "drawing-rooms" (so-called) are functions, and the lord mayor's dinner is a function--in fine, that is a function which is "a course of action peculiarly pertaining to any public office in church or state." the receptions and dinners which, in his official capacity as president of the world's fair, mr. higinbotham gave were functions. but the receptions, dinners, high teas, given by people holding no official position whatsoever, do not partake of the nature of "functions." dinner favors. favors may be simple or elaborate, as the purse of the giver may dictate. appropriateness and simplicity, however, show better taste than the extraordinary vagaries in which some indulge. among the really admirable selections which are offered by dealers of many sorts, nothing is better than the bonbonnières shown by confectioners of the higher grade. they are delightful in color, exquisite in design, and while they are made into receptacles for sweets for the time being, they can later be turned to a dozen more permanent uses. one design which is, perhaps, the most elegant of all, takes the form of an opera bag. it is made of the heaviest cream-white silk and has embroidered on it in dainty ribbon work forget-me-nots, tiny rosebuds, or jessamine. at the top it is finished with the popular extension clasp of fine burnished gilt, and when in use as a favor is lined with tinted paper and filled with the finest chocolates or with candied violets. slippers, too, are seen, and, while not of glass, are suggestive of cinderella's tiny foot. they are crocheted of fine colored cord, are stiffened and molded over a form, then fitted with a bag of silk and tied with ribbons of the same shade. like the bags, they are made the excuse of sweets, and, like them, they add to the decorative effect, for they stand in coquettish fashion before each cover and challenge the admiration inspired in the prince of fairy legend. books and "booklets" are much in vogue and make as acceptable favors as any that can be desired if only selected with judgment and with care. small volumes of verse bound in vellum are always good. single poems from any one of the recognized poets put up in artistic booklet form are as nearly perfect as favors can be. book covers, too, are good, and some bookmarks are shown that are excellent both in color and in their evident ability to withstand the usage they are sure to get if they are allowed to do any service at all. one clever hostess who gave a dinner, and who handles her brush unusually well, devised a book cover and leaflet combined that proved a great success. she had the covers made in the regulation size of pale sage chamois skin and added the decoration herself. she painted each in the flower that the guest loved best, for her feminine friends, and each in some convenient design for the men, and across the corner was the name of each in quaint gold letters. she folded heavy parchment paper in booklet form, and with her brush wrote in silver bronze selections from the wit and wisdom of the ages. then she slipped the miniature books within the covers and left the brilliant thoughts that they contained to start the conversational ball. her dinner was pronounced a great success, and it was remarked by many that there was none of that awkward silence which so often precedes the soup. table etiquette. [illustration] the minutiæ of table etiquette offers to onlookers the best evidence of good or ill-breeding, and in the graceful observance thereof is displayed all the "difference between dining elegantly and merely consuming food," for it is at the table that the ill-bred and the well-bred man are most strongly contrasted. how to eat soup, or partake of grapes, and what to do with a cherry stone, though apparently trivial in themselves, are weighty matters when taken as an index of social standing. and it is safe to say that the young man who drank from his saucer, or the young woman who ate peas with her knife, would court the risk of banishment from good society. in regard to the first essentials of table manners we are bound to consider the laying of the table, the manner of being seated thereat, the use of the napkin, the proper handling of those most invaluable implements, knife, fork and spoon, together with a short dissertation on those older implements, "adam's knives and forks." the breakfast table. this first repast of the day should always be daintily and appetizingly spread, and the etiquette there observed, as at all other meals of the day, should be of a nature to render the observance on more stately occasions second nature to the members of the family. children so trained will find little difficulty in after days as to their table etiquette. the table itself should be spread with clean linen, first overlaying the surface with a sub-cloth of double canton flannel, felting, or a white blanket that has seen its best days of usefulness. this is done for the better appearance of the table linen, for the deadening of sound, and the protection of the table from the heated dishes. the table linen for home use need not be of the finest; cleanliness being, after all, the chief requisite. [illustration: etiquette of the table.] before the mistress of the house stands the tray covered with a large napkin, or a prettily etched tray-cloth. this is filled with cups and saucers. the coffee-urn is at her right hand with cream, sugar, spoons, and waste-bowl convenient. in front of the master of the house is spread a large napkin with the corner to the center of the table. an ornamental carving cloth may be used in its place. on this is placed whatever dish of meat it is his province to serve. on the opposite side of the table dishes of bread and any hot breakfast rolls or gems balance one another. the dish of potatoes stands close to, and at the right of, the platter, ready to be served with the meat. any other vegetable served at the same meal should be placed at the left of the platter. mats are wholly a style of the past. where the dish is very hot, or liable to soil the cloth, fringed squares of heavy linen, etched or embroidered, take their place. the castor, too, is banished from tables polite, and its place may be taken by a few flowers, or bits of vine, in a simple vase. the butter dish and the individual butters should be placed by the side of the one who is to serve it. fancy sauce and vinegar cruets, and salts and peppers are grouped at each end of the table, sometimes on small trays of hammered brass. knives, forks and napkins. heated plates are placed before the carver, and the carving knife (well sharpened) and fork are placed, with their rest at his right. on any occasion when plates are laid at each place, turn them face up. to the right of the plate is the knife with edge turned from the person to use it. as to the fork, authorities differ, some contending that it should be placed on the right hand, and the knife next, with sharp edge turned from the user. this latter fashion is best at simple meals where but one knife and fork are used. others contend that the fork should be laid at the left. this latter fashion should be followed where several knives and forks are necessary for an elaborate dinner. the simply-folded napkin is at the left hand. the glass and individual butter plate are placed near the point of the knife. to avoid waiting where there is any haste, the butters may be filled before the family are seated. if oatmeal, or any porridge, is to be served, the dish should be placed upon the table before the house mistress, together with the requisite number of small bowls, or saucers, in which she serves it, adding sugar and cream, or passing these, as seems best to her. afterwards these plates and the dish itself should be removed, when the hot plates and the remainder of the breakfast should be brought in. where there is fruit, as is the case in very nice homes, it is to form a third course; all other dishes are to be removed before the fruit is placed upon the table, and each person provided with a small plate with a doily, or fruit napkin, laid upon it, a silver fruit knife, and possibly a finger-bowl set upon the doily; also a teaspoon or orange-spoon when oranges are on the table. if berries are served fruit saucers will be required. in busy homes the fruit is frequently placed upon the table at the beginning of the repast and served at its end without change of plates. many persons prefer to begin their breakfast with fruit. the napery at breakfast may be colored if so desired. the dinner table. the dinner table for home meals is laid very much after the fashion of the breakfast table with the omission of the server. if there is to be more than one course, such as a salad, another fork must be added, in which case it will be best to place the forks at the left of the plate. if there is fish, another extra fork, or else the appropriate little fish knife and fork, is demanded. if a fork only is used, the flakes of fish may be pushed upon the fork by means of a bit of bread. a half slice of bread should lie in, or beside, the folded napkin. the soup tureen is placed before the mistress of the house, together with the soup dishes. into each of these she puts a ladle full of soup and passes it along. where there is a servant to wait, he, or she, takes each dish from her hand and serves those at table, always passing to their left hand in so doing. when the soup is removed, the under plates should also be taken and hot plates brought in for the next course. the meat is placed before the carver, dishes of vegetables flanking either side. the plates are filled and passed, or else handed around by a servant. sometimes the meat only is put on the plates and the dishes of vegetables are passed from one to another at the table or handed around by a servant. do not place a quantity of small vegetable dishes at each plate; it is too suggestive of hotel and restaurant life; peas and some other similarly cooked vegetables are an exception to this rule. side dishes, such as pickles, etc., are placed on the table when it is first laid. if a salad is to form the next course, all the dishes should be carried out, the meat being taken first, then the dishes of vegetables, after that, plates and butter plates. a tray is much better to transfer all articles except large platters. never permit a maid to scrape the contents of one plate into another, with a clatter of knives and forks, and then triumphantly bear off the entire pile at once. the salad is to be eaten with a silver fork, and is served with rolls or biscuit. where the home dinner is simple the salad is frequently served in small dishes and passed during the progress of the repast. before dessert is brought on, all table furniture should be removed save glasses and water bottle, and the cloth brushed free from crumbs with crumb-tray and napkin, or scraper, in preference to a brush, which is apt to soil the cloth. the dessert is then to be placed on the table and the mistress serves the pastry or pudding on small plates or saucers which are placed before her. tea, coffee, or chocolate, may now be handed around, but never sooner. at a very ceremonious dinner they appear last of all. if fruit is to follow the pastry, fruit plates, arranged as for breakfast, must be substituted for the dessert plates, as soon as the guests are done with these. it is to be expected that each family will adapt the above outline to suit their own needs, omitting such features as they have neither time to devote to nor servants to accomplish. the ideas here given, however, are suitable as the nucleus of the most elaborate dinner, or may be simplified to fit the plainest repast. the supper table. the table for supper is laid very much after the general plan given for breakfast, with the exception of the oatmeal. if the tea is made at the table, which is the daintiest way, the other adjuncts of the tray must be supplemented by a dainty brass or bronze hot-water kettle swung over an alcohol lamp, and a pretty tea caddy. lovely silver caddies, with lock and key, are to be had and make an appropriate wedding gift. a "cosy" or thick wadded cap for setting over the teapot, to keep the heat in, is another pretty essential, which may be made as ornamental as is liked. at supper cold meats are usually served, and cake is taken with the fruit, while vegetables, unless those served in salad form, are omitted. the lunch table. in cities, the lunch takes the place of the twelve o'clock dinner, just as the late city dinner replaces the supper, dear to country hearts. the table for lunch is laid much like that for supper, the dishes being all placed at the table at one time, and the ladies of the family, for to them it is usually devoted, gathering around it without the formality of a servant. signs of ill-breeding. the order of laying the table, and serving the dishes having been given, it now remains to give some information as to the conduct of those at the table. this is rendered more necessary from the fact that many well-dressed, and apparently well-bred people, sin so grievously against the simplest laws of table etiquette, as not only to display their own want of breeding, but to actually annoy those about them by their sins of omission and commission. the most important table implements are knife, fork, and spoon, and with these we begin, in the order of their prominence. the fork. the fork having, as one writer happily suggests, "subjugated the knife," demands our first attention. the subjugation of the knife is so complete in this country, england, france and austria that any attempt to give the knife undue prominence at table is looked upon as a glaring offense against good taste. this aversion to the use of the knife probably arose first from the more agreeable sensation to the lips that is produced by the delicate tines of a fork in contrast to the broad blade of a knife. also the fact that the steel of which knives were, and are still, to some extent, made, imparts, by contact, a disagreeable flavor to many articles of food. in the use of the knife and fork daintiness should be cultivated. they should be held with the handles resting in the palms of the hands when cutting, or separating food; but, in conveying food to the mouth, the handle of the fork should not be kept against the palm, as to do so would give it an awkward appearance in lifting to the lips. fork and knife should be held firmly but without any apparent exertion of strength. never strive to load the fork with meat and vegetables at the same time. to do so is to commit an offence against manners and digestion, and never push the food from the fork with the knife. take upon the fork what it will easily carry and no more. oyster forks are usually provided when oysters on the shell are served. either the right or the left hand may be employed in lifting them to the lips. the shell should be steadied with the other hand. the fork may be handled with either hand, the right being more generally used. it is well, however, to be trained in the use of both hands, thus avoiding the slight awkwardness attending the constant changing of the fork from one hand to the other. [illustration: the correct position for holding knife and fork.] in using the fork in the left hand it should be lifted to the lips, tines pointing downward. the fork, which should convey but a very moderate amount of food, should always be carried to the mouth in a position as nearly parallel to it as possible. this does away with the thrusting motion and the awkward sweep of the elbow that is so annoying to the onlooker. the fork is also used to convey back to the plate bits of bone or other substances unfit to swallow. eject them quietly upon the fork and quickly deposit them upon the edge of the plate. the softer cheeses are eaten with a fork. as to the harder varieties, some use the fork and others break with the fork and convey to the mouth with the fingers. use the fork to break up a potato on your plate; do not touch it with the knife. ices, stiffly preserved fruits, etc., are all eaten with a fork. in fact, the fork is to convey all food to the mouth that is not so liquid in its nature as to require the use of a spoon. the spoon. the spoon comes next as an article of importance at the table. soups, all thinly cooked vegetables, canned and stewed fruits, peaches and cream, melons, oranges by some, very thick chocolate, roman punch, and other dishes that common sense will dictate at the moment, are to be partaken of by its aid. one should _drink_ tea and coffee, however, and not spoonful it. use the teaspoon to gently stir up and dissolve the sugar in the cup, then lay it in the saucer and lift the cup to the lips by the handle. never be guilty of leaving the spoon in the cup and compassing it with one or more fingers in carrying it to the lips. in partaking of soup the spoon should be swept through the liquid away from the person, lifted to the mouth, and the soup taken noiselessly from the side of the spoon. in thus lifting any liquids from the further side of the dish, or cup, there is time for any drop adhering to the outside to fall in the dish before carrying to the lips. only to gentlemen possessed of a luxuriant mustache is it permitted to take soup from the point of the spoon, always providing they can do so skilfully and without an awkward use of the arm. the gold or silver spoons for after-dinner coffee are very small, as befits the dainty cups of egg-shell china. the knife. properly, the knife may be said to have no use at the table save to assist the fork in separating food into morsels fit for mastication. never, no, _never_, permit it to be introduced into the mouth upon any occasion whatever. to do so is the height of ill-breeding. adam's knives and forks. there are a number of things that the most fashionable and well-bred people now eat at the dinner table with their fingers. they are: olives, to which a fork should never be applied; asparagus, whether hot or cold, when served whole, as it should be; lettuce, which, when served in whole leaves, should be dipped in the dressing or in a little salt; celery, which may be properly placed upon the tablecloth beside the plate. to these may be added strawberries, when served with the stems on, as they are in most elegant houses. dip them in cream and then in sugar (sometimes sugar only is served), holding by the stem end and eating in one or more bites, according to size. bread, toast, and all tarts and small cakes; fruit of all kinds, except melons and preserves, which are eaten with a spoon; cheese, except the softer varieties; all these are eaten with the fingers, even by the most fastidious people. even the leg, or other small piece of a bird is taken up daintily in the fingers of one hand at fashionable dinners. water cress is taken in the fingers. it is usually served upon a shallow dish or a basket, a fringed napkin covering bottom and sides. artichokes, also, are eaten with the fingers. lump sugar may be taken with the fingers, if no tongs are provided. if a plate of hot, unbroken biscuit is passed, one may be broken off with the fingers. napkin and finger-bowl. napkins vary in size, from the diminutive, fancy doily, for ornament rather than use, through all gradations, up to the largest sized dinner napkin. in using these do not spread over the entire lap, nor fasten under the chin bib-fashion, nor in the buttonhole, and, if a man, do not tuck in the vest pockets. all these are fashions which should have been outgrown in the nursery. simply unfold and lay carelessly in the lap on one knee, use to wipe the lips lightly, or the finger tips when necessary. some very exquisite people manage to eject fruit seeds, or skins, or anything unfit to swallow, from the lips into the napkin, by pressing it against the mouth, then dropping them skilfully from its folds upon the plate. all such careful observances tend to remove, as much as possible, from the modern repast, the prosaic, and unromantic ideas suggested by the idea of eating. finger-bowls are brought on the table after the dessert is removed and before the fruit is served. they are usually placed before each individual on the fancy glass or china plate that is to be used for the fruit, a fancy doily being laid between the bowl and plate. remove bowl and doily at once to the right hand side, leaving plate free for the fruit. this doily is frequently an elaborate article of fancy work, not for use but ornament. hence, unless its place is taken by a fruit napkin or smaller napkin, as is sometimes done, passed around before dessert, the dinner napkin is used. avoiding fruit stains. some hostesses dislike to have fruit stains upon their elegant dinner napkins; hence, the custom of supplying smaller napkins at the beginning of dessert. this, however, cumbers the dinner with much serving and is not to be recommended. if done, the smaller napkins are to be passed around, and the large ones permitted to remain. at the close of the dinner the napkin is not to be folded, but left lying loosely at the side of the plate. if a guest in the house, however, unless fresh napkins are supplied at every meal, they should be folded and placed in the napkin ring. the rule for using napkins is that they be touched gently to the lips, and the finger-tips wiped daintily upon them, but as "nice customs courtesy to great kings," so, to those gentlemen possessing luxuriant mustaches, a greater freedom is permitted in its use. the finger-bowls are to be two-thirds full of slightly warmed water, and a rose geranium leaf or a slice of lemon should float upon the surface of each. the fingers of one hand at a time are to be dipped in the water, rubbing the leaf or lemon between them to remove any odor of food, and then dried upon the napkin. sometimes, after partaking of meats, one may dip a corner of the napkin in the finger-bowl, and, allowing it to drop back of the dry portion of the napkin, wipe the lips with it. a gentleman is permitted to moisten and wipe his mustache in the same manner. remember, always to exercise the greatest care not to have the operation a very visible one, as it is not particularly attractive to the onlooker. a small glass of perfumed water is sometimes placed in the center of the finger-bowl for this purpose. lift it to the lips and sip slightly, being careful not to have the appearance of taking it for a beverage, and immediately dry the lips upon the napkin. while eating meats, etc., use the napkin before touching the lips to a glass, else the crystal edge may present a very disagreeable spectacle to one's neighbors. general table etiquette. in seating one's self at table, assume a comfortable position, neither so close as to be awkward, nor so far away as to endanger the clothing by dropping food in its passage from table to lips. sit upright, and do not bend over to take each mouthful of food. if a gentleman is accompanied by a lady, he should draw her chair out from the table, and, when she is seated, assist her in putting it back in position, unless in some public dining place, where this office will be assumed by a waiter. on being seated, remove the roll, or piece of bread, from the napkin (the best form for this bread is in blocks four inches thick and about three inches long), unfold the napkin, lay it upon the knee, and quietly wait your turn to be served. never handle, or play with, any articles on the table; it bespeaks ill-breeding. never drum on the table with the fingers. as soon as a bowl of soup, or a plate of oysters is offered you, begin, without any appearance of haste, to eat. this facilitates serving, as, by the time the last are served, the first will have finished their half-ladleful of soup (which is all that society allows) and the waiter may begin to remove the first course. the old custom of waiting until everyone was served before beginning is no long countenanced, since "soup is nothing, if not hot," and by waiting it is decidedly cooled. never, unless requested so to do, pass a plate on to a neighbor that has been handed to you. it is supposed that the carver knows what he intends for each guest. when dishes are passed, help yourself as quickly as possible, and never insist upon some one having it first. if a gentleman, you may help the lady next you from its contents, if she so desire. always take the food offered in a course. quietly wait and talk while others eat, rather than call the attention of the table to your likes and dislikes, and disarrange the whole order of serving. if a gentleman, see that the lady you have brought down wants for nothing, and let the lady, on her side, take care not to entirely monopolize the attention of her escort. how to treat waiters. if, for any cause, the services of a waiter are desired, catch his eye quietly, and on his approach, state your own or the lady's wishes, in a low tone of voice. this same rule of conduct will apply to public places, where the knocking of spoons against cups, and other noisy attempts to gain the attention of a waiter cannot be too greatly discouraged. never thank a servant for passing any of the dishes or wines; that is his business; but for any personal service, such as picking up a fallen napkin, or replacing a dropped knife by another, it is proper to return a murmured "thank you," not "thanks." a lady should never look up in a waiter's face while giving an order, refusing wine, or thanking him for any special service. this savors of familiarity, and should be avoided. a man, however, that is attentive will see that a lady has none of these things to do. at table one may talk to one's neighbor on either side, or to those directly opposite, if the center decorations are not too high; but it is absolutely ill-bred to lean across an individual to converse with some one on the other side. of course, at a small dinner, or at the family table, conversation is expected to be general. never attempt to converse while the mouth is filled with food, and never _have_ the mouth filled with food; it is bad both for manners and digestion. decline any dish passed that you do not wish with "thank you, not any;" if by a waiter, "not any," is sufficient. do not enter into any explanations as to your tastes, nor the whys and wherefores of your refusal. that interests no one but yourself. if wine is served, do not call the attention of everyone to the fact that you do not drink it. the table of a friend, to which you have had the honor of an invitation, is no place for a temperance lecture. do not reverse the glass; it is a needlessly conspicuous act; simply motion the waiter away with your finger on the edge of the glass, or shake your head. some, still more careful, allow a glass to be filled for them at first, and, by letting it stand untasted, show to the waiter that further offers are useless. if a lady does not wish more wine than remains in her glass, let her make a little motion of dissent when the waiter is about to replenish it, otherwise a good glass of wine is wasted. in drinking wine, lift the glass by the stem, instead of by the bowl. young ladies, if they drink wine, had best content themselves with one glassful. "rosebuds" should not indulge. the latest dictum declares that sparkling wines should be drunk at once and not sipped. sundry rules and hints. never display any hesitation in selecting food. if your host asks what part of a fowl you prefer, at once give your choice. to say you have none is an annoyance. never tip the plate in order to dip up the last spoonful of soup. in partaking of soup, or imbibing any liquid, do so noiselessly. be sure not to spread the elbows while using knife and fork. keep them close to your side while cutting meats. never try to dispose of the last mouthful of soup, the last morsel of food. "it is not expected," says one writer, "that your plate should be sent away cleansed by your gastronomic exertions." on no account cool any drink or soup with the breath. never pour tea or coffee into the saucer to cool it. never drink from the saucer; it is an unpardonable sin. with salads small knifes and forks are often furnished, where the salad is served uncut with dressing. again, the uncut leaves are taken in the fingers and dipped in the salt or dressing. the roll is to be eaten with the salad. individual salts are an american fashion. if used, it is proper to take salt from them with the knife, if they are the open salts. in the most stylish circles great favor is shown to ample silver _salières_ with their accompanying salt spoons or shovels. salt, thus taken, should be deposited upon the left hand rim of the plate. the custom followed by so many of depositing little piles of salt on the tablecloth is very annoying to the hostess, as giving her table a shabby look during the removal of courses. salt is the only condiment placed upon the table at a dinner; the others are passed with the course demanding their use. neither is butter put upon the table at an elaborate dinner: the small square of bread or the roll furnished, are to be eaten without. use of knife and fork. peppers and salts are to be shaken with one hand. never use the other to in any wise expedite the distribution of their contents. never cut up all the meat on your plate at once, in morsels fit for eating; to do so savors of the nursery. but, on the other hand, do not seem to be perpetually using your knife and fork at table. be sure not to insert fork or spoon too far into the mouth. never turn the spoon over in the mouth in the effort to free it entirely from its contents. do not let the most adhesive of food betray you into this most disagreeable of habits. take small mouthfuls and there will be less danger of this occurring. handle knife and fork carefully, so as not to cause any unnecessary clatter at table. waiters pass all food to the left, and all dishes are removed at the left. wine is passed at the right. all dishes that are being passed must be held low enough so that the guests can help themselves without difficulty. when there is a waiter to remove the dishes from the table, the guests should never assist in the work by piling small dishes, etc., upon their plate. simply place knife and fork upon the plate. in passing the plate for a second helping, remove knife and fork and hold easily by the handles. never ask for a second helping of soup, or of anything at a course dinner. at an informal repast, where there is but one principal dish, it is proper to pass the plate for more. a second helping of fish chowder is allowable, but not of soup. food should be masticated quietly, and with the lips closed. drink all liquids without the slightest sound. never butter bread that is to be eaten with soup. to do this is only less vulgar than to thicken the soup with the crumbs of bread. simply eat the bit of bread with the soup. take the soup that is brought you, even if you do not care for it, so as not to interrupt the order of the dinner by a refusal. disgusting habits. lift cups by the handles, and wineglasses by the stem, and do not tip them up, until almost reversed upon the face, in order to drain the last drop. it is not necessary, and really bad form to completely empty a wineglass. never pick the teeth at the table. such habits are well calculated to disgust sensitive people, and should be performed in private as much as any other portion of our daily toilet. never rinse the mouth with the last mouthful of coffee, tea or water; nothing can be more disagreeable. bread should be broken by the fingers in pieces sufficient for mouthfuls, as it is needed. never butter a slice and cut with a knife; butter each piece as needed. butter should never be eaten in large quantities. cake is broken in bits and eaten from the fingers. very rich, crumbly, or filled cake may be eaten with a fork; tarts also, unless they are of a nature to permit the use of the fingers, and pastry of all kinds, as well as puddings not too liquid in form. muffins can be eaten from the plate with a fork, or they can be torn apart, buttered, and eaten while held in the fingers, like toasted bread. hot gems can be torn apart and partaken of in the same way. never take one piece of bread or cake and then reject it for another. if any little accident should occur at table, do not apologize for it; let it pass without note, and it will be apt to escape observation. if there should be anything accidentally spilled upon the cloth, the waiter should quickly remove the traces, and spread a fresh napkin over the soiled spot. fruits. apples are pared with a silver knife at table, and eaten in small sections from the fingers. there is often much time devoted to paring fruit by holding it on a fork, not touching it with the fingers. this is unnecessary, unless when a gentleman is preparing the fruit for a lady, or where the peach or pear is too juicy to do otherwise. grapes are plucked from their stems and the pulp squeezed into the mouth, while the fingers hold the skin which is then laid on one side the plate. this is far daintier than to put the fruit in the mouth and then eject the skin into the hand or upon the plate. bananas are peeled and eaten from the plate with a fork. oranges are skinned, divided into sections, and eaten from the fingers, rejecting the seeds into the hand. some prefer, however, to cut the end of the orange and eat the pulp with a spoon. pineapple is the only fruit that must be eaten with a knife and fork. silver knives and forks must always be used with fruits, as steel becomes colored by contact with the fruit juices and imparts a disagreeable flavor. green corn, in ear, is a stumbling-block, and perhaps one's best plan would be to conform to the custom of the table where you may be. in eating it directly from the ear hold it in one hand only. some hostesses provide small doilies with which to hold the ear. if a guest is pleased with any particular dish on the table, a delicate compliment upon its unusual excellence is always pleasing to the hostess. evening parties, receptions and suppers. [illustration] the evening party may be as elaborate or as simple an affair as the hostess may desire. in its elaborate form it only differs from the ball in the one respect that dancing may, or may not, be introduced as a feature of the entertainment, while a ball is given for the express purpose of dancing, and is always so understood. invitations. invitations for an elaborate evening party are sent out ten days or two weeks in advance and are issued in the name of the hostess alone. husband and wife may be invited together, addressing the envelope to "mr. and mrs. john doe;" and daughters, if there are several, may be included in one invitation as "the misses doe." sons, if there be more than one, receive separate invitations, though they can be included in one as "messrs. doe." but friends, even though sheltered by the same roof-tree, must receive separate invitations. to invite "the misses doe and roe," or "messrs. brown and green," or even "mrs. doe and family," would be in bad form. to invite the husband to any entertainment where there are ladies without including the wife would be a direct insult. invitations may be sent by post or carried by messengers. (for forms see department of "invitations, formal and informal.") society is so complex, and there is so much ground to cover in picking up its relations that many ladies are tempted to pay off all social debts at once by giving one great crush of an entertainment and inviting all those to whom they are socially indebted. to all these one is tempted to say, "don't." the labor is less and the pleasure greater where two or more smaller entertainments are given at different times. a hostess is at liberty to invite only those to whom she is socially indebted, and members of a large social circle from whom she has not received recent hospitalities must not feel hurt at being left out. where the family is large she may invite some members and not others, but should she courteously invite the entire group, it is a rule of society that never more than three members of the same family should accept an invitation to the same entertainment. either accept or decline such invitations at once. (for proper forms see department of "acceptances and regrets.") receiving. at a large evening party the arrangements for receiving guests, the dressing rooms, etc., and duties of the hostess in receiving, are the same as at a ball, and the supper served in the same fashion. ladies invited to help receive are not simply asked as a compliment to their friendship. it is not their sole duty to stand beside the hostess for the hour of coming and smile and shake hands with each guest and then see no more of them that evening. when a lady issues invitations for a large evening gathering she usually decides to ask some intimate friends "to receive with her." if she expressed what she really meant, and what she supposes her friends understand, she will say: "will you come and help me in the actual entertaining of the guests, for i shall have only time to stand at the door and say, 'how do you do;' 'good-by.'" but no, she phrases it conventionally: "will you come and receive with me?" and so they come in a flock and do nothing but "receive." should make every one happy. a woman who is invited "to receive" should arrive at the hour of the invitation, not one minute before, unless for some especial reason she is requested to do so by her hostess. she should remove her wraps and quietly join her hostess in the rooms below, where, probably, she will have a cup of hot bouillon brought to her at once and maybe a glass of wine. for a half hour or so she should stand with the hostess and only take upon herself the task of greeting, but, as the rooms begin to fill, she should leave her place and go slowly about the rooms, not talking and visiting with friends, and having a good time herself, but passing by the groups of gay and lively ones, who know every one and seek out the solitary and alone. to these is her especial mission, to make them known to some of her own intimates, whose friendship is so certain and so warm that it will stand this demand of introducing a stranger. an acquaintance is not necessary for this giving of attention. a member of the receiving party may speak to any one in the room without even the form of introducing herself, although, if she sees after a few words that she is unknown she will bring her own name casually into the conversation, making no effort to do so. any guest will feel flattered on being addressed by the ladies receiving. making things easy for the hostess. another duty she owes is keeping her eyes on the hostess and seeing that she is never left alone for one single moment in her position by the door. one of the receiving party ought to be beside her constantly ready to execute any wish she may express, as, for instance, if she say: "i see mrs. k. coming down the stairs; she is a perfect stranger; see that she meets a few--mrs. blank, especially." she will greet mrs. k., chat a second, and quietly draw her to one side continuing the conversation all the time. then seeing somebody near she will say: "i want you to know mrs. so-and-so; come over here and let me introduce you." then she may leave mrs. k. and look after some other awkward one near, and, after a few minutes, taking some one else up to where mrs. k. and mrs. so-and-so still stand, make them known. if mrs. so-and-so has a kind heart, by this time she will have made mrs. k. acquainted with some one else. the lady receiving should keep an eye on mrs. k., particularly if she seems to be afraid to move from one spot, as strangers sometimes are. meantime, another member of the receiving party notices that the hostess is alone, and she leaves her acts of mercy and returns to her post, ready to assist in any way. to have such a little group of friends transform themselves into willing slaves for the moment makes the art of entertaining no trouble or fatigue at all. think of the utter loneliness to the stranger of entering the drawing-room to be greeted by the hostess and handed down a long line of the receiving party and then left to "that bath of loneliness amidst the multitude," which has its terrors for us all. it is over such strays as this that the receiving party is supposed to have most careful oversight, since to the hostess comes small leisure for this duty. entertainment. before supper, cards, conversation, music are made use of to entertain the guests. when dancing is a feature, it does not begin until after supper, and while this amusement is in progress opportunity for conversation, games, etc., should be provided in other rooms for those who do not dance. rules for going out to supper at a large party are the same as those at a ball. duties of the guests. if music is one of the features, try and suit its character to the company. do not play classical music where it cannot possibly be appreciated, and, above all, attempt nothing that cannot be executed perfectly. in singing, let gentlemen remember that if it is an amusing song they are to render, it must be perfectly unexceptional in character. ladies should bear in mind in singing that it is much better taste in large assemblies to avoid the purely sentimental order of songs, which, with the large number of beautiful compositions at our disposal, is easily done. [illustration: entertaining the guests with a song.] observe scrupulous silence while others are playing and singing. if you possess any musical accomplishments, and are asked to contribute your share toward the entertainment of others, do so without waiting to be urged; or, if you decline, decline absolutely. urging should not be resorted to by the hostess, which custom would soon cure a certain class of performers from the disagreeable habit of holding back for repeated solicitations. if you consent to play or sing, do not weary your audience. two or three stanzas of a song, or four or five pages from a long instrumental piece are sufficient. if more is greatly desired it will always be called for. remember, it is only the lady of the house who has the right to ask you to play or sing, and to all other requests give a smiling refusal. beware of too much reserve. remember also, that, for the time being, owing to your mutual acquaintance with the host and hostess, you stand on a perfect equality with all the guests present and should, therefore, without further preliminaries, converse freely with any. never commit the blunder of stealing away to a side table, and there affecting to be absorbed in some volume of engravings, or finding some unlucky acquaintance in the room, fasten upon him or her for the entire evening. these are social crimes that no shyness can or should excuse. where the party is a small social gathering and various parlor games are resorted to for amusement, one should always join in when asked, even while not caring so to do. exercise skill, appear pleased, and while, perhaps, not enjoying the evening greatly one's self, there will be at least the consciousness of having contributed to the happiness of others. in reality, there is no better field for employing the golden rule than in the whirl of social life--no wider field for unselfishness. a superficial knowledge of the etiquette and rules that govern the various social games of cards will be found a great advantage in society, since, if one does not dance or play cards, he will be forced to content himself with other wall-flowers like himself. a gentleman should never let even urgent solicitation induce him to play for stakes at a party. there is a code of right and wrong beside which the code of society has no weight. hours of arrival and departure. an evening party usually begins about nine p.m. it is supposed to end about midnight unless the devotees prefer to remain later. some, who do not care for this amusement retire immediately after supper. when to leave at a ball is a very elastic rule which varies to suit the circumstances of the case. to leave as soon after supper as may be or to stay until the ball is actually over, are equally correct courses to follow. half past one is a very good time to depart. here in this busy country where the gallants of the evening will be the business men of the morrow, earlier hours are usual than among the leisure classes of the old world. in retiring from a large party it is sufficient to bow politely when expressing the pleasure you have received. and if the hostess or host offer the hand, shake it cordially, but not too roughly. an after call is required the same as after a ball or dinner party. receptions. for informal receptions, invitations are most frequently written on the left hand corner of the hostess's visiting card: mrs. charles grey, thursday, from five to eight o'clock. at an evening reception, the lady should be dressed in handsome home toilet, and receive standing. if several ladies receive together, their cards should be enclosed with the invitation. the simplicity of the occasion leaves the hostess the more time to devote to the enjoyment of her guests. music, both vocal and instrumental, is a great addition to an evening reception. refreshments are generally served informally. the table should be set tastily in the dining-room, and supplied with coffee or chocolate at one end and a tea service at the other. besides these, daintily prepared sandwiches, buns, cakes, ices and fruits are served. if the reception is very select, and the number of guests small, a servant presents a tray with tea, sugar and cream, while another follows with the simple refreshments that should accompany it. a wedding reception, or a very elaborate evening reception, of course admits of much more ceremony, as well as more substantial refreshments, than small entertainments. ladies attend evening receptions in _demi-toilette_, with or without bonnets, and gentlemen in full morning dress. [illustration: reception to a distinguished guest.] invitations to evening receptions, lawn or musical parties are informal, but require an answer, as it is agreeable to every hostess to know the number of her expected guests. [illustration: _to meet their royal highnesses,_ _the infantes eulalia_ _and_ _antoine of spain._ _the spanish consul_ _and_ _mrs. chatfield-taylor._ _at home,_ _monday, june twelfth, at nine o'clock._ _ pearson street._] if the reception is given in honor of some individual or celebrity the name of the honored guest should appear at the top of the invitation, as above _fac-simile_ of cards issued by the spanish consul in honor of the infanta of spain during the columbian exposition. evening receptions. evening receptions being simpler in detail and less expensive than parties, are becoming more fashionable every year, especially among people of literary and artistic tastes. guests calling, meet a select circle, among whom are usually poets, artists, and persons of elegant leisure, formality is readily broken, and the occasion is always one of pleasure. the hour for leaving a reception is varied (anywhere from eleven p.m. to one a.m. being usual). early hours are usual among those who have other engagements and who go on to other parties, remaining about half an hour at each one: thus, at crowded receptions the departures commence before the arrivals have ceased to be announced. morning receptions or matinées. of all the entertainments given during the daytime, luncheons, breakfasts, afternoon teas, kettledrums, etc., the morning reception, so-called, although it is given in the afternoon, is perhaps the most formal. some hostesses adopt the french fashion of calling it a matinée, meaning any social gathering that is held before dinner, as any party is called in france a _soirée_. there are many advantages in a morning party. it affords ladies who do not attend evening receptions the pleasure of meeting on a semi-formal occasion, and is also a well chosen occasion for introducing a new pianist or singer. for a busy woman of fashion a matinée, beginning at two and ending at four or half-past, which are the usual hours for these entertainments, is a most convenient time. it does not interfere with a five o'clock tea, or a drive, nor unfit her for a dinner party or evening entertainment. convenient, however, as this hour is for ladies, it is quite the reverse for gentlemen, since the majority of them in america do not belong to the leisure class. hence to avoid this inequality of the sexes, ladies often give these matinées on some of our national holidays. when, as often happens, some great celebrity is to be presented to a large circle of friends, there is no more satisfactory form of entertainment to be afforded him than a morning reception. to this we may draw to meet him many men who could not be brought together at a late-hour, full-dress, evening entertainment. authors, artists, clergymen, lawyers, statesmen, editors, doctors and capitalists, as well as cultivated society women, financiers and philosophers, can all be brought together in easy and friendly social intercourse. but, if we hope to gather about us men of mind and distinction, we must not expect to be amused only, we must be amusing, we must offer some tempting equivalent; something that has the ring of pure gold, rather than the glamour of fashionable dress, dancing or music. so, with an archbishop to entertain, we may hope to attract the distinguished clergy of the city; with a great author, other celebrities of the pen and pencil who will gladly come to greet him; and once drawn to a successful and brilliant assembly, they will be easily induced to return. therefore, any lady who would make her home attractive to the best society must offer some higher stimulant than the glitter of fashion. for good society we need men and women who can talk. we need relaxation, and it is best sought in intercourse of abiding value with those whose lives differ from those of our own. correct dress. the invitations are written in the same form as those given for an evening entertainment, and although given by daylight, the rooms are frequently darkened and artificial illumination gives to the whole a festive air. the hostess may be dressed in demi-toilet, somewhat low at the throat if wished, and of the richest materials, but not in full evening dress, laces or conspicuous jewels. she may have friends to receive with her who will dress in the same demi-toilets. the guests wear reception dresses or handsome street dresses. wraps are laid aside, but hats and gloves are kept on. gentlemen wear full morning dress on all these occasions. overcoats and umbrellas are left in the hall or dressing-room, but hats, if the stay is to be short, may be carried into the drawing-room. visitors do not usually remain more than half an hour, though, if the occasion is especially interesting, an hour or more is often spent. conversation is indulged in, and guests listen to music, or whatever is provided for their entertainment. at an ordinary morning reception the refreshments are light, and served the same as at an evening reception. if, however, the occasion is unusually important, the collation is more abundant, and the service more formal. visitors leave cards to serve instead of the after call. those who were invited but unable to attend, call within a few days. (for general forms of invitations see department of "invitations.") introductions are not expected to be general, except where the reception is given in honor of some one person, when, of course, all comers are presented to this guest. morning parties given in small country towns are attended with less formality than in large cities, and introductions are general. supper parties. some lover of this social repast says, "suppers have always been invested with a peculiar charm. they are the most conversational, the most intimate and the most poetical of all entertainments. they are the favorite repast of men of letters, the inspiration of poets, and a form of hospitability eminent in history. who has not heard of the _petite soupers_ of the regency and the brilliant minds there assembled?" suppers are the popular entertainment of gentlemen, and usually take some distinctive name, such as fish suppers, game suppers, wine suppers, and each has suitable supplies for the table. invitations to suppers may be given in person, by a friendly note, or writing on the card of the host or hostess: "supper at o'clock, thursday, december th." the very late city dinners have prevented supper parties from keeping their popularity, but there is no reason why in towns these should not be favorite entertainments. the same service is proper at a supper as at a dinner, with the exception of soup plates. oysters on the half-shell and bouillon served in cups are the first two courses. then follows the usual order of dishes, such as sweetbreads and green peas, whatever game may be in season, salads of all kinds, then ices, fruits and coffee. it is not quite so heavy a repast as the elaborate dinner party. games and salads are served together. if wine is used it is found on the table in handsome decanters. three sorts may be served, such as sherry or madeira and burgundy. bread and napkin are beside each plate, or else the bread is passed after the guests are seated. next, plain plates and cups of bouillon are served, with gold teaspoons. then follow the other courses. the dishes are removed after each course as at a formal dinner. at the close of the supper a tiny glass of cordial is served to the gentlemen. wines may be entirely omitted if against the principles, and mineral waters may be substituted. the table may be decorated as for a dinner party. there is perhaps no entertainment where so much brilliant conversation and repartee is indulged in as at the "sit-down" supper. residents of large cities, possessing abundant means, can avoid trouble by ordering supplies from the professional caterer, but in the country home, where economy is an object, it devolves on the housekeeper to prepare the appetizing dainties for her entertainments. for the benefit of such, we give a few items that may be useful in arranging the menu. any reliable work on cookery will give the directions for their preparation: boned turkey, boned ham, deviled ham sandwiches, salmon salad, chicken salad, potted fish, fish salad, etc., etc. a simple supper. there is a much simpler supper possible to be offered by a hostess after the opera or theatre which may be made very charming and inexpensive. this is a desirable little "spread," since there are few people who can undergo the excitement of an evening at the opera, play, concert, or card party, without a feeling of hunger; and with many, unless this hunger is appeased a sleepless night will be the result; and as the excitement is usually so good an aid to digestion, no evil consequences may be feared. this little supper is well set out with a few oysters, a pair of cold roast chickens, a boned turkey, or boned ham, and a dish of some kind of salad, and perhaps one sort of ice cream or ice and coffee. oysters are invaluable for a supper. scalloped or broiled, they can be used in place of chicken or turkey. a game supper. a game supper consists of wild fowls and fish, with jellies, ices and bon-bons, while a wine supper admits of almost every variety of luscious dishes, differing very little from dinner, except that the delicacies are all cold, and of course no vegetables are served. fillets of game, boned turkey, cold ham, fish, salads, ices, jellies and creams, are suitable to this style of entertainment. a fish supper. when a fish supper is given, dishes are generally composed of the products of the sea or river. this is a fashionable mode of entertainment for the season of lent. salads, olives, pickles and sauces are served as relishes. sweet desserts never accompany a fish supper, but fruits are an appropriate addition. coffee must be given with all suppers. [illustration] balls, dancing and masquerades [illustration] balls, to distinguish them from other evening gatherings where dancing is one of the features of the evening, may be designated as parties given for the express purpose of dancing. balls should begin at about nine o'clock in the evening, and terminate at two or three in the morning. a private ball may be a very elaborate affair, from fifty to seventy-five guests being necessary to make the occasion enjoyable. where the size of the ball-room will permit, many more are frequently bidden. over-crowding should be guarded against, as ruinous to the toilets of the ladies, and the pleasure of all concerned. the invitations to very elaborate affairs are sometimes sent out from three weeks to one month in advance. it is always proper for an invited guest to solicit an invitation for a young lady visitor, or some stranger of distinction, or for a young gentleman known to be a dancing man, and it is always permissible for the hostess, if she wish, to refuse such solicitations on the ground that her list is full, and no one should feel offended at such refusal. should the request, however, be for the admission of an eligible, dancing man, it is rarely refused. never more than three from one family (the mother or chaperon excepted) should accept an invitation to a ball, or party, unless in the case of a ball, where two brothers, if they dance, may be accompanied by two sisters from the same family. those who do not dance should refuse invitations to balls (chaperons excepted). the most brilliant man who does not dance is usually out of place in an entertainment given for that sole purpose. the ball-room should be large; the floor well waxed, or covered with drugget, and an abundance of palms and potted plants set about to make cosy nooks just lighted by a shaded lamp. cut flowers may be massed upon the mantels with gorgeous effect. if the stairway be of sufficient breadth, it should be bravely furnished forth with plants in bloom. if it should be a first-floor room and open into the cool dusk of a faintly lighted conservatory, then it is everything to be desired for the occasion. good ventilation is an absolute necessity. invite at least one quarter more guests than can be comfortably accommodated, since about that number will fail, from different causes, to accept. if it is impossible to entertain with comfort all those to whom one is socially indebted, then it is better to divide the entertainment into two or three smaller gatherings, always leaving space for as many mothers of daughters, or other appointed chaperons, as may choose to attend and who should always be included in the invitations. sitting accommodations should be furnished for them, as well as for those who may not be dancing. all other furniture should be removed from the rooms. full-dress toilets are demanded for the occasion; flowers, jewels, "the gloss of satin and the glimmer of pearls," should mingle in this festivity, the gayest of our social gatherings. the ball-room should be brilliantly, and at the same time, softly illuminated, the lights coming chiefly from the sides. general arrangements. in a large city it is necessary to provide an awning to extend from the carriage to the front entrance, thus screening guests from the crowd that usually gathers on such an occasion. a carpet should also cover the steps and walk to protect the ladies' gowns. a manservant in evening dress and white lisle gloves should be at the curbstone to assist ladies, who may have come unattended, in alighting, (providing they have no footman). he also provides each party with the number of their carriage, giving the same to the driver, in order that he may be ready when called. this same attendant also calls for the carriages upon the departure of the guests. another manservant, or a white-capped maid, waits at the door, which is opened without the bell being touched. this functionary receives the cards of the guests, and directs them to their respective dressing-rooms. these should be large and convenient as possible. assistants should be provided with thread, needles and pins to rectify any accidents that may occur to the ladies' toilets, and to render every possible aid to them in making ready for the drawing-rooms. duplicate tickets should also be in readiness; one to attach to each wrap and one to hand its owner. these precautions lessen the confusion and add to the comfort of all concerned. combs, brushes, and hairpins should be in abundance, while a powder-box and puff is not amiss. cologne, camphor and ammonia should also be in the rooms for use in cases of sudden faintness. a couch in the room is also useful, and low chairs or ottomans, in case any of the ladies should wish to change their shoes. the gentlemens' dressing-room should also be presided over by an attendant supplied with the same duplicate system of tickets and ready to render any called-for assistance. programs with the order of the dances and blanks for recording engagements for each, should be distributed to the guests as they enter the ball-room. to each card should be attached a small pencil. concerning the music. good music is a prime necessity. an orchestra, even if it must be a small one, is needful for a ball. four pieces are enough: violin, piano, violincello, or harp, and cornet. if more are desired, leave the choice to the leader, with whom the selections will have been carefully talked over beforehand, and who must be furnished with a copy of the dancing program. the musicians should be concealed back of a group of flowering shrubs at the end of the hallway, or some other convenient nook or corner. if there should be a balcony, a shady bower can be constructed for them there, and by taking out the window frame they will be heard to perfection. never, even at a "small and early," depend, for the pianist, upon volunteer service from among the guests. in the first place, it is a tiresome and unwillingly performed service, and in the second, there are few amateurs who play dance-music with sufficient correctness to render dancing after their music a pleasure. refreshments. at a ball elaborate refreshments are to be expected, and are usually served all the evening from a long table loaded with silver and glass and softly but brilliantly illuminated. no one is expected to sit down at such a supper, but the guests as they come in, a few at a time, are served by waiters in attendance. both hot and cold dishes are to be had; and substantial food, as well as all manner of sweets, should be furnished for an amusement that begets a most unromantic hunger. small game birds may be served cold; the larger fowl hot. boned turkey (cold) is especially liked. game _patés_, oysters, cooked or raw, all manner of truffled dishes, and a variety of salads are served, while fruits, ices, confections, cakes, and so on, _ad infinitum_, do fitly furnish forth the feast. if the german is to finish the evening, a separate, hot supper should be served at its close, and the all-night supper confined more exclusively to cold dishes, with the exception of hot drinks. in case of a very spacious mansion, the hostess may, if she prefer, keep the supper-room closed until half-past twelve, or one, when she will give the word. her husband should lead the way to supper with some lady to be especially honored. the hostess should not go out herself until she sees that every lady has been properly escorted, save in cases where she is to accompany some very distinguished gentleman who is present. in this case she delegates her authority either to a grown son, some other relative, or to some gentleman especially appointed, who takes her place in seeing that there are no forgotten wall-flowers left to blush unseen. no gentleman should presume to offer the hostess his escort to the supper-room, this being an honor she confers at pleasure. [illustration: the coquette.] a small tea-room on an upper floor is very desirable at a large gathering. here guests, ladies especially, can, unattended, seek the refreshment of a cup of tea, coffee, cocoa, or bouillon before descending to the drawing-rooms. gentlemen, too, may escort their wearied partners to this haven for a moment's light refection and rest after dancing. iced lemonade should also be served here, and the room never left without an attendant. many who do not care for a heavy supper, are wont to resort to this room, where tiny sandwiches, maccaroons, etc., should also be in readiness. a smoking-room is frequently provided at large entertainments where the gentlemen may retire. cigars, effervescent waters, and lemonade are furnished here, and sometimes stronger drinks. this last, however, is a question which every hostess must settle according to her own convictions. if wines are furnished, champagne and claret punch are the usual choice, and a trusted attendant should be at hand to serve them. those who patronize this room will, if they wish to lay any claim to the name of "gentlemen," carefully refrain from the slightest over-indulgence in these cooling, but deceptive drinks. if there should be no smoking-room set aside, gentlemen must never smoke in their dressing-room. to do so is especially thoughtless and impolite. host and hostess. in giving a ball the hostess, upon whom the greatest strain will fall, must be sure of her own physical and mental strength. to stand for two consecutive hours in one spot and receive each comer with the same sweet courtesy is a severe strain upon both. daughters, young lady relatives or ladies invited to receive, are usually at hand to support her. the host, if there be one, does not stand beside his wife to receive, but is usually not far away and should assist in making the occasion an agreeable one. sons of the house do not seek their own pleasure at such a time, but quietly endeavor, aided by the daughters or receiving ladies, to provide dancing and supper partners for all present. sometimes two or three young men are appointed beforehand to attend to this duty. the hostess, while richly dressed, should never show any desire by the elaborateness of her costume to outshine her guests. should an obtuse cabman, misled by some similarity of name or error in number (as may occur in large cities), permit a perplexed guest, perhaps a stranger, to drift across the wrong threshold, let it be a hospitable one. the hostess, though she may not be able to unravel the mystery, should be gracious and attentive. arrival and departure. the first move after leaving the dressing-rooms is for ladies to join their escorts and proceed to the drawing-rooms. in going up or down stairs the gentleman always precedes the lady by several steps, unless they walk side by side. this rule holds good on every occasion. a lady, if she wishes the gentleman's assistance should take his right arm, thus leaving her right hand free to carry her train. her bouquet or fan may be carried in the hand upon his arm. gentlemen and ladies never enter the room arm in arm, no matter what their relationship may be. a lady enters somewhat in advance of a gentleman accompanying her, but at the side of a maiden whom she chaperons. a mother precedes her daughter. do not offer to shake hands with the hostess as you bow, unless she makes the initiatory move, since where the number invited is large the process becomes somewhat wearisome. many hostesses prefer to sweep a graceful courtesy as they receive their guests. do not remain chatting with the receiving party. a bow, and a simple exchange of kindly inquiries, is sufficient, when you should pass on immediately to leave room for others. a gentleman's next duty is to search out his host and exchange the courtesies of the evening with him. any who may arrive late should at once search out both host and hostess to offer a belated greeting. a stranger who has received an invitation through friends, should be introduced to both host and hostess and to any daughters of the house. if a gentleman, he should be sure to invite the ladies to dance. at a large ball any formal leave-taking is unnecessary. to "fold your tents like the arabs, and as silently steal away," is quite the thing. do not make such a stir by your going as to call attention to your departure, apparently wishing others to take notice of it. the escort. the escort of a young lady owes her attention beyond all others he may meet in the ball-room. he should assist her from the carriage, accompany her to the dressing-room door, and after due time return to escort her to the reception-room. he must be her partner in the opening dance and should also put his name down for the one immediately preceding supper, since it is expected that the gentleman dancing with a lady then will take her out to supper, and there see that all her wants are anticipated. if, for any reason, he cannot do this, he must see that she is suitably attended; a gentleman taking a lady into the supper-room must also escort her back to the ball-room and leave her wherever she may desire. if there should be any seeming neglect he must see that she is provided with partners for as many dances as she may desire; never dancing himself unless she, too, is on the floor, or, if she prefer, sitting out the dance with some pleasant companion. he may introduce other gentlemen to her, after asking her permission. it is his privilege to send her a bouquet for the occasion, and he first asks what the lady's costume is to be, in order to harmonize the color of the flowers with the shade of the dress, since it would be most annoying to send blue violets to be worn with a sea-green gown. it is the lady's privilege to suggest the hour of departure. after seeing her safely within her own door he should leave; even if she asks him to enter he should politely refuse, remembering, however, to call upon her within two days. [illustration: confidences.] receiving ladies. ladies called upon to assist in receiving are not to consider their duties ended when they have supported the hostess through the trying hours of standing to greet her guests, but are supposed (though they too often fail in this) to mingle with the company, seeing that strangers and timid or non-attractive girls are not allowed to remain wall-flowers for any length of time. bashful men, too, must not be left without partners, and all should be provided with escorts to supper. these things are a part of the hostess' duty, but in a large entertainment it is quite beyond her power to attend to all the claims upon her time. the sons of the house, and sometimes a few other especially deputized young men, must sacrifice their own preferences in order to give pleasure to others. if the number of ladies exceed that of gentlemen, these aids frequently take two out to supper. daughters of the house, together with receiving ladies and the hostess, do not go out to supper until the last guests are supplied with partners. however, should the hostess be expected to accompany some distinguished gentleman to the table, she will delegate her duties to another. general rules for observance. gentlemen may introduce other men to ladies of their own family or to friends, first asking their permission or the permission of their chaperons. in case of a chaperon, the introduction is made first to her and then to the young lady, and the gentleman at close of the dance returns his partner to her chaperon. where the gentleman is well acquainted with the lady, a short promenade is often indulged in; but if the gentleman be a stranger to her, she should not expect this, for he may have another engagement, and will return her immediately to the side of her chaperon or some lady friend she may designate. in europe this promenading is not allowed, the young lady being at once escorted back to her chaperon after dancing. supper being announced, a gentleman, having no other engagement, offers his arm to the lady with whom he may be talking or dancing and escorts her out, unless some previous partner arrives to claim her before his invitation is given. once given, a lady is not free (unusual circumstances excepted) to decline it, even though she may have expected another to offer her the same attention. if she be accompanied by a chaperon, the elder lady is invited at the same time, and it is to her that his arm is offered, the younger lady walking by her side. for two ladies to each take an arm is not good form. a gentleman requesting a lady for a certain dance, should never ask if she is engaged for it. he may request the pleasure or honor of her company for the next dance, and he will learn from her answer whether she be free, without compelling her to acknowledge at the last moment that she has been hitherto unsought. formality of introductions. the request for a dance should be accompanied by a bow on the part of the gentlemen. at its close he should thank her for the pleasure, and she should return this courtesy with a smile and bow, and a murmured "thank you." an introduction to a lady in the ball-room presupposes that the gentleman will dance with her or walk with her through one dance. in england, where introductions are rarely given to those invited to an entertainment, a gentleman may ask any lady for a dance. she will probably accept, but he must not take this as the prelude to an after acquaintance. in america, however, it is necessary to ask some mutual friend to first request the favor of the lady, and then, if granted, give the introduction. however, in case of any little accident, or sudden faintness, gentlemen should be quick to assist, bringing an iced drink, aiding to the dressing-room, or calling a carriage, as the case may be, without the formality of an introduction. a gentleman may also ask an older lady who seems left unattended at supper-time, if he may bring her some refreshments, and this without an introduction. it is very bad form for gentlemen to stand about the ball-room, especially if there be a scarcity of dancing men present. even if there is no one in the room for whom they particularly care, they should be unselfish enough to remember that dancing is almost the only active form of amusement in which the majority of ladies may participate. a young man should ask the young ladies, daughters or relatives of the hostess, for their company in the dance early in the evening. a married gentleman should be general in his attentions in the ball-room. he should not dance more than once or twice with his wife, nor should he take her out to supper; but he must keep a quiet outlook over her comfort, and see that she is no wise lonely or neglected. attentions paid to ladies. neither should he confine his attentions in a marked manner to any one lady. it is ill-breeding to excite the comment sure to follow such a course. it is also bad form for any gentleman to confine his attentions to any one lady, or, as a rule, to ask her for more than two dances. even engaged couples are not exempt from this law. gentlemen may put down their name on a lady's program for certain dances, and the engagement should never be forgotten. if, however, this lapse should occur, the humblest apology should follow, which the young lady, no matter how annoyed, should gracefully accept. ill-humor is out of place in the ball-room. if a lady from weariness, or any other cause, should wish to stop at any time in the dance, the gentleman must, without any comment, at once lead her to a seat, and remain with her until the set is finished, notwithstanding that she may, from a spirit of kindness, request him to seek another partner. should she show symptoms of weariness, and be either too timid or too thoughtful for his enjoyment to ask him to take her from the floor, he should be quick to see, and to suggest that she rest for a moment. gloves form an important adjunct to a gentleman's toilet for a dancing party. light colored gloves are always good form. gentlemen are expected to wear gloves while dancing, since their ungloved hands would not only soil the delicate tints of the lady's gloves, but the slightest pressure of a warm, uncovered hand is liable to discolor the frail gauzes, or pale silks of their ball-room toilet. it is not amiss to be provided with an extra pair of gloves which will be very useful should the first pair come to grief. upon the same principle, two fresh handkerchiefs should be carried. if dancing is not formally announced in the invitation, gentlemen will do well to provide themselves with gloves to be donned if that amusement is introduced in the course of the evening. notwithstanding the royal indolence or whim of the prince of wales led him some time back to discard the use of gloves at evening parties, an example which many ultra-fashionables have followed, it still remains that gloves are both proper and necessary. if a gentleman attempts to dance without them he must hold his handkerchief in his hand in such a manner as to prevent its contact with the bodice of the lady's gown. loud talking and boisterous laughter are not to be tolerated. scrupulously avoid stepping upon the train of a lady's gown. apologize if it accidentally occurs, and if serious damage ensue from the awkwardness, beg the privilege of taking her to the dressing-room to have the damage repaired. for ladies. young ladies must never refuse to dance with one gentleman, and afterward give the same dance to a more favored suitor. nothing so quickly speaks of ill-breeding as this course. ball-room engagements should not be forgotten. young ladies should never be so unwise as to appear on the floor at every dance. daughters of the hostess should not repeatedly appear upon the floor while other lady guests are neglected. not their own pleasure, but the pleasure of the company should be their first care. ladies should not cross the ball-room alone. it invites attention. ladies must not burden gentlemen (unless husband or near relative) with bouquet or fan to hold while they dance. young ladies should not refuse a ball-room introduction to a gentleman without a sufficient reason, since to do so is always an embarrassment to the one asking it. still a lady has the privilege of refusal and may not be pressed for a reason. young chaperons should never dance while their _protégés_ are unprovided with partners. [illustration: scene at a railway station in paris.] a lady removes at least one glove while partaking of supper. but when a cup of tea, or an ice, only is taken this is not necessary. dancing. pope says: "they move easiest who have learned to dance," and while the opinions of society are greatly divided on the subject of this amusement, it cannot be denied that there is much truth in the assurance that locke gives us in his treatise on "education:" "since nothing appears to me to give children so much becoming confidence and behavior as dancing, i think they should be taught to dance as soon as they are capable of learning it. for though this consists only in outward gracefulness of motion, ... yet it gives children manly thoughts and courage more than anything." for the many, however, to whom these early advantages have not been given, while the dowry of a quick ear and natural grace has enabled them to "pick up" this social accomplishment, a few hints may be of use. dancing is really an art, and one that the gentleman especially should understand (since he takes the lead) before he ventures to ask a lady out upon the floor. the gentleman should be very careful in the manner of holding his partner. he should give her proper support by putting his arm firmly around her, but not drawing her too close. her right hand should be held in his left, the lady turning the right palm downward and almost straightening her right arm. the gentleman should bend his left arm slightly backward. the joined hands should be held steadily but kept away from the gentleman's body. to rest them upon his hip, is actual vulgarity. the gentleman's right shoulder and the lady's left, should be kept as far apart as the other shoulders, hence his right elbow must not be too much bent. the upper part of the body should be kept quiet, and the head held naturally, not turned one side, while the eyes are neither thrown up nor cast down in an affected style. their steps should be in harmony and the gentleman must be very careful not to permit a collision with other couples. at every slightest pause in the dance the gentleman should instantly drop his arm from the lady's waist. in these intervals it is proper to fan her if she desire it, and to enter into chatty conversation. gentlemen avoid all boisterous conduct in the dance, such as swinging a partner too rapidly, or lifting her too much from the floor. she, on her part, should dance lightly, never permitting her partner to carry her around, but performing her share well, or not dance at all. the most desirable dances. in making up a dancing program, quadrilles should always find a place, since many can walk through its measures that will not undertake the more active dances. it also gives opportunity for the graceful curtsy which no lady should fail to learn, and can be enlivened with conversation. to the alluring round dances, polka, schottische, waltz, etc., there are many who strongly object, but, danced in private homes and in most cases under the eye of the young girl's mother, there can be found nothing dangerously objectionable in this favorite amusement. the minuet is a stately, beautiful old dance that is sometimes introduced, enabling both old and young to join in its slow and gracious measure. new steps, new changes and new dances, with the technical features of which it is not the province of this book to deal, are continually coming into vogue with each season. a few words, however, with regard to the general etiquette of that justly popular dance, the german, will be in place here. the german, called the "cotillion" in france and in germany, where it originated, is the most fascinating dance in social use. balls at which it is to appear, signifying that fact in the invitations sent out are more elaborate in their arrangements, and are held to a later hour, since the earlier portion of the night is devoted to waltzing and other dances, and the german is not commenced until after supper. many leave before it begins, especially those who expect to make the tour of several balls and receptions during the night. a second and hot supper is usually served at its close, to those who participate in its measures. be certain when the german is to be introduced that a sufficient number of men are invited to make the affair a success. the leader of the cotillion is chosen by the hostess, and should be thoroughly familiar with all its figures, new and old; skilled to command, and prompt to bring order out of confusion; at the same time energetic and good tempered. as there will always be some in a german who do not understand it, the leader must be ready to help them out. such parties should take their places near the end, and, in this way, will become familiar with a figure before it is their turn to dance. no favorites to be allowed. the leader will also see that gentlemen do not neglect some ladies for the pleasure of dancing frequently with more favored partners. in this he should be assisted by the hostess, and gentlemen should never disregard her quiet suggestion on this score. after all, "the ball-room is a more fitting field for a display of the christian graces than most evangelical people are willing to admit." all those dancing the german must consider themselves as introduced, and each lady or gentleman is free to call "up" any participant for his or her partner. in fact it is desirable that they should do so, since by devoting themselves entirely to their acquaintance there is danger of some being debarred from the amusement. for these reasons the german is unsuited for a public ball, and fitted only for a private house where the invitation is expected to certify the character of the guest. varied and beautiful are the figures that may be adopted, but the scope of this book will not permit full instructions for its elaborate changes. one suggestion, however, is in point; do not choose those "romping" figures where the fun is liable to become too fast and furious for ball-room decorum. the figures requiring "properties," such as ribbons, flags, japanese lanterns, aprons, mirrors, etc., should have all the necessary articles carefully provided beforehand. during most of the figures, "favors" are distributed; flowers, amusing trinkets, or sometimes pretty little souvenirs are given. rosettes, scarf pins, bangles, tiny flags, artificial butterflies, bon-bons in embroidered satin bags, badges, painted silk sachets, etc., are all appropriate. tiny lanterns filled with perfume, and sometimes amusing toys will add to the fun of the occasion. it is better taste to give simple articles than to resort to the gifts of great value that some hostesses have bestowed, since such giving always suggests ostentation. flowers alone are sometimes used and it is not necessary to make the favors a source of undue expense. regrets must be sent one's hostess if unable to attend a german, that the place may be filled. if a gentleman invites a lady especially as his partner for a german, he should send her a bouquet and if some unforeseen occurrence should prevent his attendance, he must at once send her an explanatory regret to that effect. private balls given in public. many hostesses, feeling the inadequacy of their parlors to accommodate all the guests that they wish to invite at one time, without disagreeable overcrowding, have adopted the custom of giving their large entertainments at public assembly rooms. this custom, while it frees the hostess from much care, must also be deplored as depriving the gathering of that home atmosphere which is ever a safeguard. the etiquette is the same as that of a private ball, and after calls are demanded within the same length of time. the decorations and arrangements resemble closely as possible those of a private house. public balls. much of the etiquette given for private balls governs the conduct of those attending public entertainments of the same nature. introductions, however, must be sought before any attentions are offered a lady, and there is much more care exercised in granting them than under a private roof. gentlemen, too, use their own pleasure in the choice of partners, not having the courtesy of their hostess to regard in this respect. of course, military, charity and civic balls are under the charge of trustees and committees, who not only take charge of the convenience of the guests, but endeavor by all means within their power to regulate the social standing of those obtaining _entrée_ to the assembly. in many of the large cities a board of lady patronesses add prestige and a certain home protection to the successful carrying out of a public ball of the highest order. it seems to supply the protection of a hostess to the _fête_. a young girl, even if the omission be excused at a private ball, does not attend a public affair of this nature without a chaperon. late hours are more especially objectionable at public balls than at a private house. one, or half-past, should find the adieux made. a young lady, in refusing to dance with a gentleman, is not obliged to sit the dance out as she would be at the house of a mutual friend. she may, however, if she wish, do it in deference to his feelings. [illustration: the masquerade assembly.] masquerades. a few words with regard to masquerades will not be out of place here, with the one proviso added that they refer exclusively to private entertainments. public gatherings of this nature should be shunned as questionable amusements, excepting, of course, any case where, from want of room, a lady may choose to give the entertainment in some public assembly-room instead of her own parlors. this course lends the protection of home to the charm of its veiled mysteries. a masquerade is an entertainment giving much trouble to both hostess and guests. elaborate decorations are necessary in the ball-room. invitations for it should be issued from three weeks to a month in advance, in order to give the guest time to choose and prepare the costume to be worn. some hostesses give their invitations for a fancy dress party only, omitting the feature of masks. in this they may act their own pleasure. in event of permitting masks they must be laid aside at supper hour. [illustration: the masquerade.] occasionally the hostess arranges a costume scheme for the entire _fête_ beforehand, signifying to each guest the character, historical or imaginary, that it is her pleasure he shall, for the time being, personify. in this way the perfection and beauty of the ball-room are assured beforehand, and repetitions of time-worn characters prevented from appearing upon the floor. choice of costumes. again, the hostess may content herself by selecting the costumes that she wishes a few particular friends to don, sufficient in number to form one or more quadrilles to open the ball. each set must be carefully arranged as for instance, a court party, costumed after the time of louis xiv. a group of watteau shepherds and shepherdesses, or a hunting party garbed after any chosen period, etc. the remainder of the guests may be permitted to use their own taste in the selection of costumes. a full dress rehearsal of these especially arranged quadrilles should be held beforehand to ascertain the most satisfactory method of grouping the characters in each set. invitations to an entertainment of this nature are issued like those for ordinary balls, adding "_bal-masque_" or "fancy dress ball," down in the left hand corner. when the entertainment is to be very elaborate these words are given an entire line, extending through the center of the invitation. occasionally the words, "ordinary ball dress permitted," find a place upon the card, to the relief of those who prefer to appear in their own proper character. the host and hostess in fancy dress, assisted by daughters or friends, all costumed, receive as in other balls, and the etiquette is in all ways similar. some ladies, and gentlemen also, wear mask and domino over the regulation party dress, removing this when the others unmask. guests, as far as in them lies, should seek for originality in their costumes. historical and mythological characters, personification of the powers and attributes of nature--as ice, snow, stars, planets, etc.--are always suitable. standard works of fiction whose characters are familiar to all, as well as mother goose and kate greenaway, are always fruitful sources for characters. accurateness should be sought after in carrying the costumes out. [etiquette of ball dress, invitations, etc., may be found in their appropriate departments.] [illustration: a social chat.] [illustration: a leisure hour in the park.] soirÉes, musicales and lawn parties. [illustration] in france almost any social gathering that occurs in the evening is called a _soirée_. here in this country the term _soirée_ is applied to an evening entertainment that partakes of the nature of an evening party, but is not quite so elaborate and means earlier hours both of arrival and departure. _soirées_, as a rule, offer some particular form of amusement, such as music, dancing, a reading; an interchange of bright ideas, such as a _conversazione_. it means also pretty evening dress, not elaborate, ball costume, and a supper. it attracts gentlemen, who appreciate the easy-going, early-houred _soirée_. that is, gentlemen who do not particularly care for the ball-room, and it is here we are sure to find wits and the aristocracy of intellect. in short, the very best elements of society are found in the elegant unpretentious _soirée_, where the intelligent woman of fashion has the tact to welcome and make at home the artist, the author, the professional man, and the man of business. the _soirée_ has still another advantage: a lady can give one in a small house and with very little expenditure, and if she has the gift of entertaining, her gathering will always be sought after. suitable dress. women, as before mentioned, wear pretty evening dress (not ball costume), and remove their bonnets, and in this way differing from _matinées_ and from morning receptions, at both of which entertainments bonnets are worn. men wear morning dress. (see department of dress.) receiving guests. for small evening parties, the host and hostess during the early part of the evening remain near the door to receive guests. later they must mingle with the company to assist in entertaining. a late arrival, however, should be noted, though it is their place to search out their hostess and offer the greetings of the evening. as guests enter the room the hostess should advance a step to meet them. her words of greeting should be first addressed to the elder ladies of an incoming group, then the young ladies, lastly the gentlemen. the hostess should be perfectly at her ease, having apparently no thought beyond the reception rooms. the entertainment. where the entertainment is mixed, a little music is appropriate, a little dancing and a little card-playing. it is well to engage some one to play for the dancing, since guests usually do not care to preside at the instrument. a violin is a great addition. if, however, the dancing is an afterthought, any gentleman who is a good pianist may offer his services to relieve any lady at the instrument. the hostess should see that conversation does not lag. she must not interrupt an entertaining _tête-à-tête_, unless it last too long; but, if conversation languish between a couple thrown together, she should bring in a third person, or draw away one, while substituting another. invitations. if invitations are issued a week or ten days in advance, the hostess has a right to expect that her guests should arrive on time, and carefully attired. the form of the invitation is similar to an "at home," as: mrs. emmons van zant, at home, thursday, june sixteenth, at eight o'clock. westmoreland street. duty of guests. the hostess may ask her guests to sing or play; but, if they refuse, it is bad taste to urge them. the hostess, if she plays or sings, may favor the guests with a single selection after others have been heard. it is well for amateurs to master a few pieces that they can render without the notes. this relieves one of that time-worn excuse--"i haven't my notes." this is also the case with those who sing. by ceasing to urge performers, the company will be freed from much of that repeated, coy refusal that only needs sufficient coaxing to comply. when a lady is asked to play or sing, the gentleman nearest her should at once escort her to the piano, remaining near her while she plays, and turning the music, if he be competent. he will also take charge of her fan, bouquet and gloves, and when the music is finished, he will again offer his arm for her return to her seat. at the same time he will thank her for the pleasure she has given himself and the company. other guests, together with the hostess, should also express their gratification. never comment on the quality of the instrument. never offer to turn the sheets of instrumental music unless familiar with the notes. when any one is playing or singing, let the company preserve silence, and if they should converse, let it be in the lowest tones. to interrupt a performer is the worst possible taste. instrumental performers have as much right to expect the courtesy of silence as vocalists. the hostess has the privilege of indicating, to a noisy group, by a gesture, her desire for silence. those who will talk should at least withdraw from the immediate vicinity of the instrument. if asked to play an accompaniment, do so, not to display your own accomplishments, but so as to afford the best possible support for the singer. musicales. a musicale, or a musical reception, is a difficult entertainment. a program must be arranged, and sufficient amateur performers secured to make a success of the affair. herein comes the difficulty, amateurs, after a very unwilling consent has been wrung from them and their name and selection placed upon the program, are so little to be depended upon. would that there could be found some way of oiling the machinery at a musical entertainment and of soothing the ruffled feelings of a hostess when those most depended upon to render assistance withdraw at the last moment for some vague reason. when one firmly refuses at the first to appear upon the program, no offence can be taken, but to withdraw for any but the most urgent reason is an actual breach of etiquette. for this reason, those hostesses whose purses are of sufficient length, are driven to employ professional assistance upon these occasions. another objection to amateur performers is the semi-professional jealousy existing between them as to precedence on the program. performers should arrive punctually, and while the order of the program should be followed as far as possible, no one should be offended at being asked, when it is necessary to play or sing out of the order agreed upon. arranging the program. if the musicale is to be entirely professional, much trouble will be saved by seeking some prominent musician, and with him arrange the program, and letting him act for the hostess in the matter. a professional artist should not be kept beyond the time agreed for, neither should he be urged to render selections entirely different, or largely in excess of those arranged for. the hostess should express her pleasure, and may request some little favor. applause is allowable, but it must be within limits. a courteous reception must be accorded to all performers by those who desire their talents. the hostess should see that the piano is carefully tuned and not keyed too high. it is customary to commence with a piece of instrumental music, followed by solos, duets, quartets, etc., with instrumental music between. a successful musicale can be held with the piano alone for music, an accompanist, and a tenor and soprano of note, but very often a violin is added, and sometimes a mandolin orchestra and four or more singers vary the program. professional singers and musicians usually leave when their numbers are over, in order to protect their throats from night air and the strain of conversing. guests should arrive early so that the confusion of entrance and taking seats will be over before the music begins. if late, they should wait until the number then in progress is finished before taking their places. the singular impression, so common everywhere, that at all society gatherings it is much more genteel to appear late upon the scene than at the time appointed, has less reason to justify it when a musicale is the entertainment than at any other entertainment or society event, except a dinner. music, interrupted by noise, is a failure. the cards of invitation are after this fashion: [illustration: _mrs. chandos miller,_ _at home,_ _thursday, june fifth, at eight o'clock._ _ westmoreland street._ _music._] the programs are usually written instead of printed, and are sometimes hand-painted and ribbon-bedecked, and again they are engraved on dainty cards. they are frequently enclosed with the invitations. if dancing is included, this is the formula: [illustration: _mrs. chandos miller,_ _at home,_ _thursday, june fifth, at eight o'clock._ _ westmoreland street._ _music._ _dancing at eleven._] if the musicale is for afternoon, it partakes of the nature of the matinée. bonnets are to be worn. refreshments are not necessarily served. the afternoon is often selected when noted stars are to sing, since their time is taken up in the evening. the evening musicale, however, is a more brilliant affair. replies are to be sent to these invitations, since for any entertainment when all are to be seated, it is a convenience to know the number of the guests. the drawing-room is cleared of the greater part of its furniture, and, if dancing is to follow, the carpet is covered with canvas, or removed, if there is a hard wood floor. camp chairs are provided for the guests. arrangement of performers and guests. the seating arrangements should present a clear space for the performers. too close proximity is not conducive to tranquility on the part of the singer, and also spoils the tone effect. professional singers insist upon sufficient space. remove all ornaments of breakable china and _bric-à-brac_ from the vicinity of the piano, which should be bare of cover, and admit of the lid being easily raised and lowered. a bowl of cracked ice, some tumblers, and a pretty jug of water should be placed upon a table near the piano. good ventilation should be ensured. a reading or recitation can be introduced into a musical program with good effect, and a long program should be divided by a recess for conversation, and to permit those to retire who do not wish to remain to the end. if dancing follows, the camp chairs are removed, or placed where they can be used. supper is also served before the dancing. cigars, matches and ash trays are usually found in the library by the gentlemen, or the cigars are placed in the cloak room to be smoked on the journey home. either plan, or their omission altogether, is eminently proper. a day musicale calls for morning dress for men, and a visiting or walking toilet for women. an evening affair, with dancing, calls for evening dress for both. lawn parties. "a green lawn, a few trees, a fine day, and something to eat are really all the absolute requirements of a garden party." if true, this places the pleasant mode of entertaining our friends in the power of many people of moderate means. in remote country localities these parties are very delightful, particularly if city friends are guests for the summer. when properly conducted, a garden party may be given with very little trouble, and made very simple and informal, but if desired may be made elaborate and ceremonious. when only neighbors are to be entertained, a hasty invitation, so as to be sure of fine weather, may be sent two or three days in advance, but when guests are expected from any distance it is customary to send invitations eight or ten days in advance, as suitable preparations must be made. these invitations are usually engraved on handsome, plain note paper, and may be in this form: [illustration: _mr. and mrs. charles leigh_ _request the pleasure of_ _mrs. morton's_ _company on thursday, the fifth of august,_ _at three o'clock._ _garden party._ _maple grove._] when guests are to come by rail it is well to send a card stating the hours at which trains arrive and leave the station. then if carriages are to meet the train, on a card enclosed might be printed: _carriages will meet the . train from union depot._ a lady, also, may invite her friends to a garden party by sending her visiting card with "tennis" or "garden party" written in the lower left hand corner, and day and hour in the lower right hand corner, or under her name. it is well sometimes to specify the time of closing. at a garden party the hostess receives her guests on the lawn, or in the garden, wearing her hat and gloves. but guests should always be invited to the house to take off their wraps, or arrange their toilet if desired. of course, a maid servant should be in the dressing-room to attend their wants. [illustration: a naval ball on shipboard.] [illustration: an absorbing story.] the thoughtful hostess will take care to have everything in readiness for the comfort and entertainment of the company. rugs should be laid on the grass for the accommodation of those not accustomed to standing on the ground, and easy chairs provided for delicate or aged ladies who may be present, so all may enjoy the party without fear of the consequence. amusements to be provided. much tact is required to properly entertain guests at a garden party, and prevent them from wandering aimlessly about the grounds. ample amusements must, therefore, be provided. the lawn tennis ground must be in perfect order, croquet sets in readiness, archery tools supplied, as well as arrangements for all kinds of suitable games made. music is a very delightful addition to the pleasure of such an occasion, and should always be had, when practicable. ladies wear hats or bonnets at a garden party, and should dress otherwise appropriately. if a plain, informal affair, the dress should be simple and becoming, and if games like lawn tennis or archery are among the amusements, light flannel dresses are suitable. but if invited to a ceremonious lawn party, where style will prevail, handsome though simple toilets are required. picturesque costumes may be made very effective on the grass and under the trees, and ladies of taste have a fine field for displaying it upon such occasions. many very fashionable people conduct the garden party in the style of an afternoon tea, receiving and entertaining their guests in the open air until ready to serve refreshments, when all are invited to the dining-room to partake of them. this mode is very convenient and quite pleasant, though it divests the occasion of much of the novelty and charm belonging to it. when the refreshments are to be served in the garden or lawn, of course the dishes must all be cold, and may consist of salads, _patés_, pressed meats, charlottes, jellies, ices, cakes, lemonade and iced tea. a cup of hot tea should always be in readiness in the kitchen for those ladies desiring it. [illustration: a lawn party.] servants should be well trained when in attendance to prevent confusion. dishes, knives, forks and spoons should be removed when used, and put in baskets or trays in readiness for them, and a fresh supply brought to replace them. tables and refreshments. numbers of small tables, with pretty, fancy covers, and colored napkins, should be set around under trees, near fountains and other suitable places, with camp-stools for the accommodation of guests when partaking of refreshments. servants should to be very careful in going from place to place with dishes to be served never to spill or drop the contents on ladies' dresses. gentlemen may help the ladies, if they prefer, and wait on themselves, requiring the servants only to remove the dishes and replenish the pitchers with lemonade, milk or water. fruits, pineapples, strawberries, raspberries, peaches and grapes are served at garden parties, and should be of the finest quality. ices are a very acceptable addition to an outdoor entertainment, being light and refreshing for warm weather; they are served in fancy paper cups, laid on ice plates. for ladies desiring to give garden parties, the following bill of fare will be found sufficient: cold rolls. mixed sandwiches. brown bread. pickled tongue. paté de foie gras. jellied chicken. cold birds. lobster salad. charlotte russe. biscuit. glacés. fancy cakes. fruits. lemonade. iced tea. strawberry acid. in england the refreshments are always served in a _marquee_ (large tent) on the lawn. for such outdoor entertainments foods that require little use of knife and fork should be chosen; sandwiches should never be made of sliced meats as they are awkward to handle. crusts should be trimmed off, and the filling shredded or grated to a paste, and highly seasoned. for the same reason hot drinks should be dispensed with as far as possible. glasses are to be filled but two-thirds full. none of these precautions are necessary when the refreshments are served indoors. for the out-of-doors feast a number of small tables should be provided; cover with fancy cloths and on them place piles of plates alternating with folded napkins, breadbaskets, or trays heaped with sandwiches and buttered tea biscuit, baskets of fancy cakes, and plenty of reserve napkins. have some of the assistants pass these, beginning with the plates, and to the maidservants leave the service of tea, coffee, cream and sugar (when these are given) and other drinkables. by this time the gentlemen who first assisted will have been served and the maids can turn their attention to the ices. ice cream can be served as above, and ices in glass cups; after this the maids can gather up the dishes in baskets. a caterer may be called upon to furnish the feast, in which event all trouble will be spared the hostess. do not use the best glass and china at these entertainments; the danger of breakage is too great. at many gatherings a special table is supplied for the gentlemen, where soda-water, claret cup, and sometimes wines are served. the men help themselves, but a manservant is present to supply fresh glasses, etc. this table depends entirely upon the principles of the hostess. if no hours are mentioned, the guests usually disperse about dusk, unless dancing is provided for those who wish to stay and enjoy it. seats. the business of providing seats is a comparatively trifling affair when there are to be young people present, who prefer clean turf or the piazza steps to any more luxurious lounging place. for the older guests, less unconventional accommodations may be devised. light rockers, camp chairs, wooden or wicker settees are pretty, and in harmony with the rustic nature of the reception. it is well, also, to have rugs or strips of carpet laid about, for the benefit of those who dread the dampness that some imagine rises from the ground even in the midst of the most obstinate drought. cushions are invaluable at such times, whether used as footstools for the more delicate guests, to soften porch steps, or to convert stumps and grassy knolls into divans, for those who like low seats, but yet have a due regard for their bones or dresses. a charming, and thoroughly rustic style of seat, can be formed of dry, sweet hay. tossed up in generous piles, to make couches, or heaped against the trunks of trees to simulate arm chairs, they provide resting places that are not only luxurious, but uncommon. the costliest upholsterer can furnish no chairs or sofas more softly padded or more deliciously perfumed than these. with rugs or shawls thrown over them, to guard the garments of their occupants from any possible injury from moisture or from crushed insects, they are all that the most fastidious could demand. hammocks, also furnished with cushions, are always comfortable and picturesque, while screens are valuable additions to the furniture of this open-air drawing-room. covered with cretonne, felt or paper of any shape and size, these are almost indispensable for shielding from draughts in breezy weather, or sheltering from obtrusive sunlight on a sultry day. lawn parties for charity. in case of a charitable object, the refreshments are disposed of at reasonable prices. in this case the menu should be restricted to a few articles. berries, ice cream and cake are frequently sufficient; coffee can be added. dainty buttonhole bouquets should also be provided and sold to the gentlemen for prices in advance of their value. afterward, with the piazza for a stage, a little program of music, singing and recitations can be carried out. at any garden party, music and singing are in order, and at very grand affairs, paid musicians of note are engaged. orchestras also are frequently somewhere on the grounds. breakfasts, luncheons and teas. [illustration] a breakfast or a luncheon is somewhat less formal than a dinner and, hence, so much the more delightful. the breakfast party includes both gentlemen and ladies while, as a rule, the luncheon is an entertainment given to ladies. the invitations to a breakfast may be written, engraved or verbal. if a large number of guests are invited to meet some distinguished stranger, engraved invitations are issued. five days or a week's notice is usually considered sufficient, but if distinguished wits and scholars are to be secured, it is well to give a longer period, since their time, always in demand, should be bespoken well in advance. a reply to the invitation is a necessity, because the hostess wishes time, in case of non-acceptance, to secure another guest. where the breakfast is less stately in character, an informal note, written by the hostess, in the first person, is a pleasant method, or simply written on the lady's visiting cards under the name in this form: breakfast, tuesday, ten o'clock, february fifteenth. artificial light is out of place, and sunshine should flood the apartment, while a certain airiness and daintiness should pervade the table appointments, quite the opposite of the elaborate display that characterizes the dinner party. flowers should form the decorations of the table. breakfast parties are a very convenient mode of social entertainment for those whose limited means will not admit of a more extensive display of hospitality. ten o'clock is the usual hour, though it may be as late as twelve, thus differing from the luncheon, which is never earlier than one. breakfast parties are a favorite reunion with literary people, who generally take the morning hours for leisure, leaving brain work until later in the day. sidney smith said he liked breakfasts, "because no man was conceited before one o'clock in the day." in serving breakfast the bill of fare, unless for special occasions, should never be elaborate, but rather dainty and attractive, as the appetite usually needs tempting at this early hour; fewer courses of a more delicate variety should be served than at other meals. the hostess dispenses the coffee, tea and chocolate from the head of the table; the substantials are set in front of the host, who may help the plates and hand them to the waiter to serve; the vegetables and other dishes may be handed from the side table. concerning the viands. it is well-bred to serve the breakfast with as little formality as possible, and with as few attendants; one servant, a maid, or man servant is sufficient unless the party is unusually large. if grape-fruit be used for a first course, or orange skins filled with juice, a wreath of smilax on each plate makes a pretty decoration. a breakfast should invariably begin with fruit, followed by a course of eggs. this latter is one of the essentials, and offers a greater variety than is perhaps known outside of france. a spanish omelette, if properly made, is a thing to be treasured among the "pleasures of memory." stuffed eggs, or hard boiled eggs cut in slices, with a bechamel or white sauce, are appropriate and generally liked. a fish course, an entrée, one meat, a salad and a sweet course should follow next in order, concluding with coffee. the entrée and the meat may form one course, if a slice of duck with olives, fried chicken or some such dish be selected. ices of all kinds are entirely out of place at a breakfast. an omelette soufflée, peaches with cream, or best of all a fruit salad, are within the proprieties. this last never fails to call forth enthusiastic appreciation. it is simply made, and keeps perfectly for two or three days. half a dozen oranges should be peeled, leaving no particle of the white adhering, and then cut in small pieces. half a ripe pineapple, broken with a fork into bits and sugared to taste, and four bananas sliced, are mixed with the oranges, and the whole put on ice for three or four hours. this will be found a dish rivalling the ambrosia of high olympus. with the first course of fruit, finger-bowls are in readiness, but are removed at its close. hot breads and breakfast cakes are always suitable, and oatmeal, carefully cooked and served with thick cream and powdered sugar, often follows the fruit. the closing course should be hot cakes served with honey or maple syrup. if there are ladies present, or the hostess presides, the coffee, chocolate, etc., are poured by her, and after the first course she asks the guests when they will have it served. the following will be found an acceptable bill of fare for an ordinary breakfast party. it can of course be varied to suit the convenience and taste of housekeepers. bill of fare for breakfast. melons. grapes. oranges. fried perch with sauce tartare. young chickens with cream gravy. saratoga potatoes. poached eggs on toast. broiled quails. baked mushrooms. tomatoes or celery. bread and butter. crackers. hot cakes. coffee. tea. chocolate. if a butler serves at a breakfast he does not wear full dress as at a dinner. wedding breakfast menu. a menu that would be easy to prepare for a wedding breakfast would be two hot dishes consisting of chicken croquettes, lobster cutlets, oyster patties or creamed oysters. everything else might be cold and as follows: salad, either chicken or lobster, pickled oysters, a small wedding cake, little cakes for the bridemaids, charlotte russe and coffee. the table decorations should either be all white, or the colors used in the bridemaids' costumes. let the waitresses be dressed in white. [illustration: _frances folsom cleveland_] [illustration: the cotillion.] the simplest costume is in good taste for breakfast parties. men wear morning dress, and ladies handsome but plain street costumes. gloves are removed before going to the table. bonnets are kept on. each gentleman is given the escort of a lady. the host conducts the lady who is the most distinguished guest to the table, and the hostess follows last with the gentleman whom it is desired to honor particularly. upon entering the dining-room the ladies are assisted to their seats, and the gentlemen then follow, and the meal is served. the signal for rising from the table is given by the hostess, with a smile and simple bow, and all proceed to the parlor, exchange a few pleasant remarks, and take their leave. for informal breakfasts no after-call is expected, but for ceremonious entertainments of this kind the same observance of the rules of etiquette are required as for dinners and large parties. guests should not remain more than half an hour after leaving the table, and many do not even return to the drawing-room. a bachelor breakfast. if a breakfast has been given by a gentleman to ladies and gentlemen, the lady who chaperons it and presides as hostess, receives all the attentions of a lady in her own home. the host calls upon her soon after the event, and also calls upon his lady guests. gentlemen usually give their breakfasts at fashionable hotels or restaurants. a golden-rod breakfast. this is a pretty country entertainment. it can be given out of doors under wide-spreading trees. for the one in mind, great roots of golden-rod were dug up and transplanted into jardinières (stone jars in this case) and a hedge of the nodding yellow plumes placed all about. the carpet was of checkered sunshine and shade, and the green canopy of the leaves made the scene a perfect one. the guests, arriving at ten o'clock, were ushered into the rustic breakfast room. four tables were used. on one pure white damask napery was enlivened by low baskets of maidenhair fern, and sprays of the same delicate plant tied with baby ribbon of green gave a cool look to the whole. the largest table was resplendent with cut glass vases filled with golden-rod. white asters gave a hint of autumn's snow to the third table, and the ingenuity of the hostess found pleasure in decorating the remaining one with the delicate grasses and rich-colored small fruits of autumn. gold-banded china, cut glass and silver, which had been in the family for three generations, supplemented the floral charms of the tables. choice blending of colors. autumn and yellow were the main ideas which guided the selection of the menu for this golden-rod breakfast. everything possible was in the yellow tint or rich golden brown. with plenty of cream and fresh eggs and the fresh fruits of the farm to work with the menu was an easy one to furnish. ices served in the shape of tiny melons and cakes decorated with frosted sugar. as a memento of the feast each guest retained her name card which bore a spray of pressed golden-rod fastened with narrow yellow ribbon, and on it in golden script a verse with some thought suggested by autumn or the flower. tiny garden hats of yellow straw, filled with golden-rod, accompanied the name cards. the golden-rod in itself proved a veritable gold mine as a help to conversation. discussions as to whether or not it should be chosen as the national flower; descriptions by travelers of where they had seen it growing best, bright quotations of favorite authors leading to discussions of poems or books by these authors, anecdotes of travel all followed each other and naturally, led by the clever hostess who, in her quaint gown of yellow, with golden-rod in her belt and a spray tucked close to the wide tortoise shell comb which held her golden hair, looked like the personification of the flower she had honored at her breakfast. wine at a breakfast is optional. if used, two varieties are enough, and should be in keeping with the principal dishes; claret, sherry, burgundy are suitable. luncheons. a luncheon is usually an entertainment given by a woman to women. from whatever cause, luncheon parties are rapidly gaining popularity among us. macaulay wrote, "dinner parties are mere formalities, but you invite a man to breakfast because you want to see him," and the same may apply to luncheon parties for ladies, these being almost exclusively their affair. invitations to small luncheons are usually very informal, and may be written in the style of a familiar note of friendship; or a visiting card may be used, underneath the name of which is simply written: luncheon at one o'clock, thursday, january eight. the repast may be elaborately made up of salads, oysters, small game, chocolate, ices and a variety of dishes which will destroy the appetite for dinner, or it may simply consist of a cup of tea or chocolate, thin sliced bread and butter, chip beef or cold tongue, but there is the same opportunity to display good taste and a well-appointed table as at a grander entertainment. ladies attend formal luncheons in very elegant street or carriage costumes. they wear rich and becoming bonnets, which they do not take off. they appear with gloves, removing them when seated at the table. the toilet of the hostess may be as elegant as she wishes, anything, in fact, short of an actual evening costume. luncheons of ceremony are sometimes given in honor of distinguished guests, or upon special occasions, instead of dinners, and may then be very stylish affairs. flowers should be artistically arranged, both for the adornment of the parlor and dining-room and the table more sumptuous, though always dainty; broiled delicacies, such as do not require carving, take the place of joints, and too rich dishes, with salads, oysters, croquettes and ices; bouillon is very generally served at large or small lunches, as is also chocolate with whipped cream. tea is not expected to be present on these occasions. coffee, served without cream after luncheon in the prettiest little cups the hostess can muster, is generally at hand. the table may be decorated with flowers and fruit as a centerpiece, around which should be placed glass dishes of fancy cakes, and bon-bons. at very formal luncheons each dish is served as a separate course. instead of coffee being served in the drawing-room, as after dinner, the hostess dispenses it at the luncheon table. the invitations to fashionable, elaborate luncheons should be handsomely engraved after the following style: [illustration: _mrs. robert barton keene_ _requests the pleasure of_ _mrs. frederick daniel's company at_ _luncheon,_ _friday, may sixth, at half-past one o'clock._ _ portland place._] the toilets of the ladies attending should be elegant, and always appropriate to the occasion. the hostess usually leads the way to the table, keeping the most distinguished guest at her right, the others following and seating themselves as they choose. guests are not expected to remain longer than half an hour after they return to the parlors. calls are a polite acknowledgment after receiving hospitalities, and should be made within a few days after the entertainment. if gentlemen are invited, and the master of the house is present, the guests proceed to the dining-room in the same order as at a formal dinner party. if the luncheon is given in honor of some particular individual, this fact should appear upon the invitation. the following is a good form: [illustration: _mrs. vincent_ _requests the pleasure of your company at luncheon,_ _on tuesday, february fifth,_ _to meet_ _genevieve gallatin._ _one o'clock._ _ chestnut street._] the rooms are usually darkened for an elaborate luncheon, and artificial lighting resorted to. wax candles are the most pleasing, their radiance having a softening effect. nowadays there are candles in the market warranted not to drip, and made not wholly of wax, but of some composition which burns brilliantly and slowly. they average eight to the pound, and cost something like twenty-five or thirty cents a pound. no light is so satisfactory or so becoming as candlelight. when the great question of illumination and flowers is settled, there remains one more opportunity for individual taste, for bon-bons, salted almonds and olives may be disposed here and there in small dishes of cut glass or silver. the usual hour at which to take leave after luncheon is three o'clock, and, unless pressed to do so, luncheon guests should not remain beyond this hour, thus avoiding any inconvenience to a hostess in the matter of her afternoon engagements. of course, the hour of leaving depends on the hour at which the luncheon is given. luncheon refreshments. the refreshments must not be heavy, for the reason that many of the guests may be expecting to attend a dinner or evening party that same day. if a butler serves at a luncheon he does not wear full dress, as at a dinner party. only light wines are offered at a ladies' luncheon, and more frequently none at all. mineral waters and pure water are supplied. entering the dining-room. ladies who are intimate with the hostess often arrive half an hour before the time set for the luncheon and chat with the hostess. usually there is no formality in entering the dining-room. the hostess leads the way with the honored guest, if there be one, on her right. the ladies go down together, talking as they go. if there are gentlemen present, they follow. once there, they seat themselves at random, with the exception of the host and hostess, who seat themselves at the head and foot of the table. again, it may happen that the guests, when they reach the table, find name cards at each plate to designate the place to occupy. these often are simple bits of pasteboard with a gilded edge which the hostess buys and writes thereon her guests' names. this is especially the case if other favors are given. where the luncheon is very informal the entire menu frequently consists of cold dishes, such as boned turkey, boned ham, raw oysters, salads of all kinds, chickens, fruits, fruit salad, bavarian cream, or other creams, fancy cakes, _paté de foie gras_, etc. the coffee is hot. let the hand of the caterer be kept as much as possible out of luncheon. lunch or luncheon. there has been much questioning as to the distinction between the words "lunch" and "luncheon," which are often used interchangeably. the latest and best definition would be, that a lunch is a meal to be partaken of informally by the members of a household, at midday or before going on some pleasure excursion. luncheon, on the contrary, signifies a form of entertainment given after breakfast and before the evening dinner hour. it is a meal of compliment and more frequently extended to ladies alone. the invitations given for a luncheon are issued on the same principle as those for a breakfast. a young performer, vocalist or elocutionist, is often introduced at a luncheon. luncheon favors. favors for a luncheon may be very elegant, or only simple and pretty. a single rose laid at each plate is frequently all that is given. name cards are often made to serve as souvenirs. a very new and pretty design for a name card is made of a plain white or cream square envelope, painted with a dainty design of violets. where the name is to be seen, an opening like that of a picture frame is cut through the face of the envelope, a line of narrow gilding finishing the edge. the name of the guest is written on a plain card and put inside the envelope so as to show through the opening. some other small graceful flower in place of the violet is sometimes painted on it with good effect; and if one color, as yellow, for instance, predominates in the table decoration, a design of jonquils or buttercups is chosen. a cardboard rest is tied in at the top of these envelope cards by a narrow ribbon caught through two little slits in the envelope over the one in the rest itself. they are then stood around the table like dainty little picture frames, which in reality they are, making the most charming souvenirs when taken home and a small photograph substituted for the card with the name on it. some quaint and pretty conceit is always sought after for favors. too expensive articles suggest a desire for display. painted satin bags or other fancy receptacles, filled with choice confectionery, are always acceptable, especially at a ladies' luncheon. if the satin bag can be turned into an opera bag, so much the better. tiny baskets, purchased for a trifle, and metamorphosed by means of a little gold paint, and a bow of ribbon on the handle, into dainty flower-holders, are also pretty. hand-painted book covers are suitable, and, again, fans are much admired. those of japanese style can be bought reasonably. favors for gentlemen, such as fancy pocket pincushions, small coin purses, scarfpins, sleeve-buttons, etc., are more useful than ladies' favors, but not so ornamental on the table. a pair of oars, artistically carved, are appropriate for the athletic-minded. silk handkerchiefs with initials are also proper. little silver _bonbonnières_ are nice for women, and silver matchboxes for men. some betrothal luncheons. the bride-elect entertains her girl friends at luncheon, and revives all the old innocent superstitions to add merriment and interest to the occasion, notable among them the ring baked in the cake, the chance recipient of which will be first to wear the orange blossoms. one of the prettiest of these luncheons was given on occasion of the announcement of the betrothal of the young hostess, and a veritable "feast of roses" was the result. as was proper, everything was _couleur de rose_--even the light in which the guests saw each other shone through dainty candle shades formed wholly of pink silk rose petals. the central _epergne_, holding a luscious mass of bridemaids' roses, was laid on a circle of filmy, transparent "bolting cloth," the edge of which was embroidered with a wreath of pink roses of natural size and varied shades. even the salt was contained "in the heart of a rose"--tiny little porcelain affairs--originally intended for candlesticks, but now appropriately used for the symbol of hospitality. [illustration: free from the restraints of society.] [illustration: out for healthful exercise.] dresden cupids, in pretty and artistic poses, held dishes filled with candied rose leaves and heart-shaped cakes covered with pink icing. a wreath of paper roses surrounded the drop-light above the table; the ladies' names were written on rose-petals (of cardboard), the sorbet was in the form of pink roses and flavored with the cordial _parfait amour_, while the ice cream repeated the design, and was served in a garden hat of straw-colored candy wreathed with natural roses. the human flowers around the table against such a background of "sweetness and light" made the scene one to be remembered. blue and white tableware. a contrast to the foregoing (which was, perhaps, rather suggestive of languors and luxury) was a dainty, prim little luncheon, where the table decorations were all of the soft delf, blue and white. the centerpiece held bluets and "marguerites," that carried one's thoughts far afield, and brought memories of flower-scented breezes and of joys, healthful, pure and vivifying. the service was entirely of blue and white delf china, and the quaint candelabra, of like material, were decorated with crimped paper candle shades repeating the same colors. under the dish holding the flowers was a square of linen embroidered in blue. the design was an exact copy of that on the china. the candlelight merely illuminated the little shades and added to the effectiveness of the decorations, but its pale beams were lost in the sunshine that streamed into the room and lighted up the intelligent faces of the women about the table. each guest read on the reverse side of her name card a little rhyming assurance of her welcome. for instance: "if wishes were dishes, these should be so rare, you would vow that you never had tasted such fare! "if wishes were riches, a feast should be spread that would tempt old lucullus to rise from the dead. "but, since wishing is vain, take the will for the deed, and the warmest of welcomes i offer instead." a dresden luncheon. a dresden luncheon is a dainty and flowery style of entertainment for springtime, that is considered a more perfect combination of the exquisite and the elegant than any artistic gathering yet seen. the keynote is the blending everywhere upon the table of the delicate dresden china colors, blue, pink, yellow and violet. the fine flowers seen upon the royal china are scattered in embroidery over the linen centerpiece; on this stands a dresden bowl holding an old-fashioned nosegay of pink rosebuds, hothouse daisies with their yellow centers, pansies and heliotrope. these are tied loosely together with a bow of blue ribbon, which gives the needed touch of that color, unless one is able to get natural forget-me-nots or some other fine blue flowers, like scillas. a few airy and smaller bunches of the same flowers, in little cut-glass stands, are placed about the table. the candelabra have pink rose shades. the finger-bowl mats are embroidered to match the dresden flower centerpiece, and floating in the water of the bowls are the different flowers--a few rose petals in one, a daisy in another and a pansy in another until each has one. every cup, saucer, plate or dish used is of dresden china, the greater the variety of their shapes the prettier. the ice cream is served in small satin cases, in the different pale colors, blue, pink, violet and yellow. when boxes in these colors cannot be procured plain white is used. on the top of each is tied a little bunch of satin flowers composed of tiny pink rosebuds, blue forget-me-nots, a daisy, a bit of heliotrope, or a few violets. at the place of each guest is a name card, done in the dresden design. the cards are made of water-colors paper and the design painted in water-color. the color of the painted ribbon bows in the designs given varies in the different cards in blue, pink, yellow and violet, and where the loop ends extend over the edge they are cut out, making the ribbon look more realistic. the sign of all dresdenware from the royal factories is the tiny blue crossed swords on the reverse or bottom of the dish, without which no piece is genuine; so on the back of the cards one must be sure to paint the sword sign in just the right shade of old blue, thus making complete the idea of a veritable feast of royal dresden. concerning teas. the distinction between five o'clock teas, kettledrums, afternoon receptions and high tea, is not very clearly drawn. strictly speaking, the afternoon or morning reception is the most formal, and has been dwelt upon in a former chapter. high tea. this is really the evening supper, which has also been described in detail, although sometimes the "high tea" is spread for an earlier hour than the supper, say seven or eight o'clock. the ladies come in visiting costume, and the gentlemen in morning dress in country towns. in cities, sometimes, dress coats and light gowns are considered essential. guests are expected to spend the evening. where there are two rooms, such as dining-room and parlor, or two parlors, the tables can be laid in one room, while the guests are assembling in the other. often, however, the hostess can command but one large room in which to entertain her friends. in this case, the little tables can be brought in by a servant and spread in the presence of the guests without the least breach of propriety. after the meal is over, the dishes are quickly carried out on trays and the tables either taken from the room or left where they stand for cards or any of the many pencil-and-paper games that are pleasant at such gatherings. one waitress, if quick and deft, can readily wait on a dozen people, especially if all the necessary articles for changing the courses, plates, silver, etc., are arranged on a side table in the room or outside the door. there are many attractive menus that can be suggested for teas, but the following seems to demand as little home labor for satisfactory results as any other. the word _tea_, by the way, is something of a misnomer, as at these entertainments the beverages are almost invariably coffee or chocolate, or both, tea being left entirely out of the question. menu. bouillon. bread. crackers. celery. pickled oysters. chicken salad. peanut sandwiches. olives. salted almonds. chocolate. coffee. ice cream. fancy cakes. fruit. serve the bouillon in cups, and be sure that it is _very_ hot. have a thin slice of lemon floating on the surface of each cup. pass crackers (the zephyr or snowflake brands are best,) with this, and choice blanched celery. if the tables are set before the guests arrive, it is well to have a couple of short stalks of celery laid at each plate and spare that amount of waiting. have each cup and saucer set in a plate, and take all three pieces off at once. either tea or coffee cups may be used, and it is, of course, unnecessary to have them match. the pickled oysters, with not too much liquor, may either be served on the same plate with the salad or separately. glass or china dishes may hold the salad and oysters. forks should be used with this course. the sandwiches must be neatly piled on fringed napkins on bread plates, and must be passed several times, and the olives and salted almonds may fill small glass dishes. the olives may be helped with a fork or spoon or with the fingers, the almonds may be served with spoons. the coffee and chocolate should be poured out at a side table, and sugar and cream passed with them to each person. the ice cream should also be served off the table and passed in the plate or saucer from which it is to be eaten. the cakes should be prettily arranged in a cake dish with a doily under them. the fruit should be placed on a flat salver, as high piled dishes are apt to be top-heavy and difficult to pass. oranges, bananas, grapes, the last cut into rather small bunches, make a pretty array. each guest must be supplied with a fruit plate, doily, finger-bowl, fruit-knife and fork or spoon. souvenirs are sometimes given, or attractive menu cards are used. five o'clock teas, or "at homes." some ladies make it a point to be "at home" almost every day at a certain hour, and serve tea or coffee in their drawing-rooms, accompanied by either wafers, maccaroons, fancy cakes, or small delicate sandwiches, and perhaps bouillon for masculine callers. such a lady who is bright and interesting, who gives a warm welcome, yet does not bind any one to a longer stay than the conventional ten minutes, is sure of drawing about her a delightful circle of acquaintances, men and women alike being pleased to drop in on their way home from the city, or from more pretentious gatherings. this is the afternoon tea in its simplest form. in london afternoon tea is universal. if you are calling anywhere in the latter part of the afternoon, tea and thin bread and butter will be offered you as a matter of course, or if it has already been handed round, you will be asked if you have had your tea, and if not a fresh supply will be immediately brought. if bread is thin enough, butter fresh, cake good, and tea and coffee perfection, you have provided all that is necessary. in warm weather ices or strawberries could be added. in england you will very seldom be given more than this at the best houses, and in italy, where the afternoon receptions are the most agreeable entertainments imaginable, you will never be offered anything more than dainty little cakes, chocolate and tea. these slight refreshments are usually served in the simplest way. the hostess herself, or if the guests are numerous a white-capped _bonne_ or two, pours out the tea and chocolate and the men of the party hand it to the ladies. often the children of the house flit to and fro, carrying cups of tea or plates of cake, and everybody talks to everybody else. there will be the best pictures on the walls or the easels, often the best music from people the world knows well, and a reception thus simple in point of refreshment, but rich in the pleasures of art, is a memorable delight. still other ladies are at home on some one afternoon in each week, and announce that fact on their cards under their names as follows: thursdays in february. tea at four o'clock. or, if for a single occasion, it may read thus: four o'clock tea. tuesday, february fifth. or, mrs. george green, five o'clock tea. tuesday, january fifth. sussex place. or, mrs. george green. thursdays. four to seven. sussex place. the year, or p.m., should not appear on the card. these invitations require no answer, and no after calls, since really it is nothing more than a grand calling day. those who cannot attend, call as soon as convenient, and those who come leave cards in the hall. walking or carriage costumes are worn. men wear morning dress. the hostess dons a handsome reception gown, never an evening dress. the young ladies who assist her are prettily clad in fabrics that suit the season, but which must not suggest ball toilet. the simple refreshments served must be the very best of their kind. this style of afternoon tea is suitable for city or suburban life. the five o'clock tea table. beginning with the table itself, it may be a small oval, circular or hexagon shape. any one of these is preferable to a square one. if the surface of the table is highly polished and it is preferred not to cover it entirely, a handsome square or round centerpiece doily, which is only a dinner centerpiece, is used, or a teacloth a yard square may prettily and wholly veil it. for the actual furnishing of the table there are required a tea caddy, teapot, a hot water kettle, a cosy, a wafer or cracker dish, two or three pretty cups and saucers, cream jug and sugar bowl. to measure the tea with a spoon is not considered quite so correct, and so redolent of the old-time flavor as to use the cup-cover of the caddy, "one fill to a brew." a glass mat may be provided to set the hot teapot upon, and the spoons are laid loose upon the table. cups should hold more than an actual thimbleful, though they need not hold a pint, and should bear some relation to the laws of gravitation in their poise upon the saucer. they should have a smooth rim. a fluted edge is a most uncomfortable finish for a drinking vessel. the wafer-basket may be silver, china or cut glass. for the winter months many hostesses have introduced a variety on the menu of the five o'clock tea table. tea is a doubtful beverage in many hands, and is wholly abjured by many women as injurious to the complexion, hence a big, egg-shaped urn, beneath which a tiny alcohol jet burns, is set up in the corner of the drawing-room. the urn is filled with chicken bouillon, served piping hot in small silver cups, and with an invigorating dash of sherry for those who prefer it so. with the bouillon are served platters of toasted water biscuit that have been sparingly buttered and lightly sprinkled with salt. sometimes, in place of salt, a powdering of cheese is grated over the hot cracker, and for a relish at five o'clock nothing could be preferable to this light, warm repast. men, it is well to remark, heartily advocate the change from insipid tea to the invigorating hot bouillon. pages. the special innovation for the benefit of women are two drawing-room pages. these are small, well-trained little boys in buttons, livery or done up in stippers, white linen and turbans, who at intervals of fifteen minutes carry about among the callers large lacquer trays, on which are spread violets and rose leaves, crystallized and salted nuts with ginger. one is supposed to scoop up a few of the confections or nuts as the pages pass. receiving friends. those friends invited to pour tea or chocolate also come at the hour named, and after removing their wraps seat themselves at their particular tables, or at their end of the one long table. it is their duty to dispense, besides the cups that cheer, words and smiles that cheer also to every one who comes, no matter whether they know them or not. usually they can do much to make it lively for all in their immediate vicinity. if the afternoon is a long one and guests numerous several of the receiving party volunteer to relieve those at the urns, and they spend an hour pleasantly about the rooms and beside the hostess. these are the kindly things expected of a woman who accepts an invitation "to receive," and when she has done them gracefully and prettily she is a social "sister of mercy." if the number of guests is small the hostess herself frequently serves, with perhaps her daughter or some friend, to assist. the eatables. the tea, with its pretty equipage, is placed on the table by her side; sometimes chocolate is provided, and occasionally a crystal pitcher of milk for any who may desire it. some very thin sandwiches (rolled ones are better), a silver basket of sweet biscuit and one of mixed fancy cakes, form an all-sufficient menu. a small cluster of flowers in a slender vase and the table is complete. friends greet one another, drink a social cup of tea, chat a little, and that is all. formal leave-taking is not expected. sliced lemon should be at hand for any who prefer the creamless, sugarless russian tea with a slice of lemon floating on its amber tide. some ladies invite several young girls to help serve and entertain, and, in the eyes of the masculine half of creation, this adds greatly to the beauty of the picture; for ever since tea became famous in our society, men have found much to admire in a girl who can serve it gracefully. a kettledrum and an elaborate five o'clock tea are precisely the same form of entertainment. the term "kettledrum" is not very frequently used. some of the guests at "at homes" have so little judgment in the matter of departure that experience never serves them in good stead. they are nervous and vacillating when they should be neither; they linger and know not how to get themselves gracefully away, and usually succeed in making an abrupt exit. they know the right moment at which to leave, but fail to put this knowledge into practice. "almost think it is time to go now," or "i wonder whether i ought to say good-bye or wait until some one else comes in." the regulation conventional time for a call on an "at home" day is about twenty minutes, but this can be lengthened out to half an hour or forty minutes, circumstances being favorable, or shortened to ten minutes when the position is distinctly unfavorable to a longer stay. "bringing out" a débutante. the "bringing out" of a _débutante_ at an afternoon tea has become, because of its simplicity, a favorite method. it affords opportunity to invite a number of young "rosebuds" to cluster about her, and it does not subject the "bud" to the ordeal of a ceremonious, or large, ball. the _débutante's_ name will be engraved below that of her mother, on at "at home" card. if she be the eldest daughter, her name is written miss manning. if she have elder sisters, it is miss amy may manning. no answer is expected to these cards, but each recipient will note the especial significance of the occasion by leaving cards in the hall for her as well as her mother, and, if the invitation be not accepted, they will send or leave cards within a few days, for both her and her mother. an elaborate afternoon tea is often given in honor of some stranger, when the cards will read as follows: mrs. james ladd, at home, tuesday, march tenth, from four until seven o'clock, to meet mrs. gordon bennet. south fiftieth street. this would indicate a daytime, but not usually a day-lighted assembly, and means flowers, gaslight and music; elaborate costumes as may be without infringing on actual evening dress, and refreshments, all too abundant for those who expect a dinner to follow. ladies leave outer wraps in hall, or dressing-room, but do not remove their bonnets. gentlemen who expect to spend but a few moments, carry their hats with them into the drawing-room. the table is made attractive with beautiful linen, china, and silver, and salads and oysters, ices and cake turn this entertainment from a simple afternoon tea into a "high tea." the tea-room is never deserted, and, although servants are in attendance, there are young girls to pour the tea and add the charm of their presence to the hour. dancing even is suggested by the enchanting waltz music that floats from some hidden nook, and a hostess with a sufficiently spacious home often provides a room for this amusement, gentlemen and ladies who wish to participate, disposing of their wraps in the dressing-room. gentlemen visitors. these occasions usually capture more men than any other daytime gathering. they attend in prince albert (frock) coat, neat scarf, faultless gloves, perfect-fitting shoes, and unexceptionable hat. they need not remain long, they need not talk much, and they are sure to find some few that they recognize; and besides, in the best society, the theory of non-introduction gives each person the privilege of conversing with anyone present. yet, hostesses who are strong in their social positions are not afraid to introduce people who meet under their roof, or to express pleasure that you took the time to call. such a hostess brightens and warms the atmosphere, and the busy, tired man, who does not usually enjoy such affairs, will enjoy coming to her house and will come again. how to leave. when the drawing-room is crowded it is possible to leave without saying adieu to the hostess, and good form does not necessitate the hostess to ask anyone to call again. an afternoon tea-saucer. a convenience that any victim of the afternoon tea will appreciate is a tray or elongated saucer, oval in shape. at one end is a rest made of gold wire, in which the cup stands. the other is quite large enough to allow of serving sandwiches, biscuit, or even a bit of salad without burdening the guest with a second object to hold. the cup stands firm in its place. not even the jostling common in a crowded room will displace it or endanger that breakage which so often follows a crush. the tray is easily held in one hand, and the other is free to handle fork or spoon without inconvenience of the smallest sort. pretty teapots for the five o'clock tea table are of rosewood in a pinkish brown and in the usual olive coloring. the handles of the lids are butterflies, and a butterfly is on the handle used for pouring. some of these elegant little pots are overlaid with a tracery of silver. teapots intended for easter favors are of brown porcelain in the form of a chicken with the mouth doing duty for the spout. "pink and blue teas." these have been a great "fad," and while not quite so popular, are pretty enough to deserve mention. a table is too often confused in its arrangement of color on account of its changes of courses. this can be entirely done away with by adopting some simple color scheme. a luncheon, or tea, is easier to serve in this fashion because of its simpler menu. amber and white will harmonize with celery, salads, ices and other articles needed at a luncheon. the yellowish white, full of sunlight, harmonizes with amber and can be followed up to deepest bronze. amber glasses, creamy damask, all the tints from white to bronze, can be used in the dishes. apricots heaped on amber dishes, ices tinted in harmony, and a great mass of white roses for a center ornament, are appropriate. another beautiful effect is to do away with the cloth and let the polished wood of the table set the keynote of color. an oak table, with its rich yellows and browns and its lurking suggestions of green, would afford a color scheme with which all shades of amber, bronze and yellow would blend. _bon silène_ or _malmaison_ roses would also be in harmony with the other decorations. miscellaneous entertainments. [illustration] coffees are so exactly like teas, with the exception that coffee is the reigning beverage, that extended description is unnecessary. the invitations are precisely the same as for teas, simply substituting the word, "coffee," or "kaffee klatsch" in the corner of the card instead of "tea." the german term, "kaffee klatsch," is frequently used. this, literally translated, would be "coffee chat" or "gossip." the entertainment is of german origin, and was adopted to fit the fiction that the stronger sex, of whom the lateness of the hour captures many a willing or unwilling victim, do not revel in tea. chocolataire. this is rather a new entertainment. its novelty lies in the fact that the beverage served is chocolate, and that chocolate enters into all the refreshments served, such as chocolate wafers, etc. a chocolate lemonade will be a nice addition in hot weather, chocolate bon-bons being passed in dainty silver bon-bon baskets. the cards are the same as for "teas" and "coffees," simply substituting the word "chocolataire" or "chocolate" in the left hand corner. if this is used, as it sometimes is, for a church or charitable entertainment, cards are not issued, but it is simply announced through the usual channels as a "chocolataire," and numerous other refreshments all containing chocolate in some form can be dispensed, chocolate ice cream, chocolate cake, etc. theater parties may be made into very elaborate entertainments, or they may be simple and quietly arranged. ladies and families often give these parties as an easy method of repaying their social debts. but the theater party is the entertainment, par excellence, dear to bachelor hosts, especially those who have no homes of their own to which they may invite guests, and wish to return some of the many courteous hospitalities of which they have been the recipients. in one of these elaborate affairs the host first secures some popular lady to chaperon the party. then he calls upon his florist, makes arrangements with some famous restaurant and pays a visit to the box-office of some theater where a new play is to be brought out in ten days or two weeks. invitations for theater parties. he then gives the invitations in person to the selected number of his lady friends, not less than six, not more than fifteen, explaining to the mothers who will chaperon the party and what gentlemen he has invited. these must number the same as his lady guests and will have been chosen from among the most eligible of his friends. the rendezvous will be at the restaurant where dinner will be served at six o'clock. the young ladies attended by father, brother or a maid, come in carriages and the coachman is told at what hour to return. this is usually half past twelve or one o'clock. the dinner will be served in a sumptuously decorated, private dining-room, and by eight o'clock the party are _en route_ in carriages for the play. each lady is first supplied with exquisite corsage and hand bouquets by an attentive maid. boxes are engaged at the theater, or in case of large parties, the front row of the balcony. programs printed on scented satin are frequently placed in front of each chair and serve as souvenirs of the occasion. when the play is over the party returns in carriages to the same restaurant where an elegant supper is laid. frequently each lady finds costly souvenirs at her plate. each gentleman acts as escort through the evening to whatever lady he has been assigned by the host. at the appointed hour carriages call for the ladies and the gentlemen escort them thereto. if some male relative come, he does not accompany her home, but if it is the maid only, he is expected so to do. the young ladies and gentlemen must call upon the chaperon within a few days and the host calls upon the mothers to express thanks for the pleasure of the daughter's attendance. the men invited must each call within three days upon the especial lady to whom they devoted their time during the evening, or if this is impossible, leave a card. a simpler form of this entertainment is where the host calls upon each proposed guest, and if the invitation is accepted, leaves two entrance tickets, and one for some male relative who must accompany her. the party meet in the box, where the host and a lady chaperon greet them. after the theater supper is served at some fashionable resort, or perhaps at the home of some friend, where dancing occasionally follows the supper. after calls are expected. these parties are sometimes given by a lady, when the invitations are sent by informal notes in her own name, and a six o'clock dinner laid in her own home precedes the opera. after the entertainment the guests return in carriages to the house where a little supper is served, and perhaps some dancing varies the program. occasionally this entertainment takes the form of a matinée party of ladies only, who adjourn at its close to the hostess's home for a supper. dress for the opera. when a gentleman invites a lady to the opera, he should tell her what part of the house they are to occupy. if it is a box she must at least wear a light opera cloak, even if she does not array herself in full evening dress. however, evening toilet, no bonnet and beautifully dressed hair, are the correct thing. at an opera matinée, elegant visiting dress and dainty bonnets are always worn. if a gentleman is to escort a lady to the opera in any of the public conveyances she must wear street toilet. picnic parties. picnics and excursions are delightful summer entertainments. but it is essential that whoever goes on a picnic should possess the power to find "sermons in stones, books in the running brooks, and good in everything;" know how to dress, know where to go, and above all, know what to carry to eat. a very great variety of food should be avoided, also soft puddings and creamy mixtures of any sort, which persistently "leak out." plain, substantial food, simple and well-cooked, should ever be chosen, with a few sweet and simple dainties to top off with. this can be divided up among the party by the one who is most executive, with the ladies to furnish the substantials and the gentlemen the beverages. the men assume the expenses of the boats or other conveyances. paraffine paper is indispensable in wrapping up the viands, which are much more wisely carried in boxes, than baskets, as the former can be thrown away, and the fewer the burdens on the home-coming the better. a rubber coat or mackintosh is also a necessity, for no matter how warm the day, there is a risk of sitting out in the woods on the bare ground. this can be easily managed in a shawl strap. it is best not to carry a tablecloth, but if something is preferred to spread upon the ground, a strip of enameled cloth is the most satisfactory thing, and whatever is spilled upon it can be easily cleaned off. japanese napkins take the place of linen, and wooden plates, which can be thrown away, are most desirable, like those which the bakers use for pies. there are several important items which must not be forgotten, and among them are hand-towels and soap, combs, hand-mirror, thread, needle and thimble, a corkscrew and a can opener. what to eat. there should be a clear understanding at the outset what eatables each one is to bring. one girl may promise to furnish a certain proportion of the rolls or sandwiches, and another, part of the cake. others may promise cold or potted meats, sardines, stuffed eggs, saratoga potatoes, olives, pickles, fruit, lemonade and cold coffee. salad may easily be carried if the lettuce and chicken or lobster are arranged in a dish set in a basket, and the dressing contained in a wide-mouthed bottle or pickle jar. the best way to transport lemonade, if fresh water can be readily procured at the picnic grounds, is to take the lemon juice and sugar in a jar, adding the water after the party reach their destination. apollinaris water is excellent for lemonade. the coffee and milk should have been put together before leaving home, but the sugar is carried separately. tongue and sandwiches. to begin with the substantials, a cold roast, a boiled tongue, deviled eggs, are simple and tasty. the roast may be sliced off before going, and carefully wrapped up, but the tongue should be carried whole and cut up when required, or it is apt to become dry. the eggs are easily prepared, being hard boiled, cut lengthwise, the yolks taken out, mixed in a bowl with pepper, salt and mustard, and a few drops of worcester and put back again in the whites. different kinds of sandwiches may be served. for one time there may be finger-rolls, split, the inside hollowed out and filled with chopped chicken or tongue, and the two sides tied together with the narrowest of ribbon. again, bread and butter, cut wafer thin and rolled, may appear. sweetbread sandwiches, sardine sandwiches, egg sandwiches, are delicious and easily prepared variations upon the everlasting ham and tongue. very dainty sandwiches are made of two thicknesses of thin bread and butter, with a layer between of cream cheese and chopped water cress. the fruit should be heaped in a basket or arranged as a centerpiece with the flowers. ice cream may be taken to a picnic without much additional trouble. the brick molds can be so packed by a confectioner in a pail of ice that there will be no danger of the cream melting. for this, of course, wooden plates are not available, but china saucers will have to be transported. for the sweets some plain cake and bon-bons, and a box of crystallized ginger are all-sufficient. cold tea, with lemon and ice, is certainly the most refreshing and satisfactory. if more side dishes are preferred, there are olives, salted peanuts or pecans, gherkins, radishes or club-house cheese and wafers to choose from, and if berries in season are desired, they are best carried in a glass preserve jar. if one person gives a picnic, she should expect to furnish all the food, the means of transportation for her guests, the plates, glasses, knives, forks and napkins--in short, to defray all the expenses of the trip. this is apt to prove a rather expensive proceeding, if there are many guests invited, but it is a very pretty style of entertaining for those whose means permit them to indulge in it. a "basket picnic" is a more general affair, where each member of the party supplies a quota of the provisions. some one person undertakes the charge of the party, and invites such people to join it as she thinks would make it a success. the girls usually provide the refreshments. chaperons. it might seem needless to say that there should always be a chaperon on picnic parties if it were not that even in this day there appears, in some places, to be a lack of proper understanding of this subject. dwellers in large cities see matters in a clearer light, and a young man who is thoroughly versed in points of etiquette will not think of inviting a young lady to accompany him to the theater without also requesting her mother or a married friend to join them. in the same manner he asks a chaperon to go with them when he escorts a young lady to a ball or party. when a number of young people get off together, they are apt, without the least intention of impropriety, to let their spirits carry them away and lead them into absurdities they would never commit in a graver moment. if a chaperon is bright and cheery, sympathizing in the enjoyment of the young people, and avoiding making her presence a bar upon innocent gayety, she need be no drawback to the pleasure of the expedition. on the contrary, most young men and women will feel a security and sense of comfort from having some one along to take the responsibility of the conduct of the party that they could never know were there no chaperon present. it is a good rule, if possible, to have an equal number of persons of each sex on a picnic. this is especially desirable if the party is to be on the water, in rowboats, where each boatload must be evenly divided. the hostess or projector of the party may arrange in whose escort each girl is to go, or this may be left to the young people themselves. a marshmallow toast. this is exclusively a girl's entertainment. a very pretty one was given to about twenty girl friends. the guests were invited in the afternoon from two until six o'clock. a large room had its furniture removed and in its stead were placed small tables, which contained trays holding marshmallow candies, skewers and lamps. the mallows were toasted and eaten after a little supper. tables were spread prettily with white linen and decorated with flowers. the supper was arranged as follows: oyster patties. buttered bread. sandwiches. salad with french dressing. assorted cakes. chocolate. toasted marshmallows. the young girls had a delightful time and the entertainment was simple and inexpensive. roof parties. roof parties are the very latest diversion which the girl who stays in town is enjoying. they are the very jolliest entertainments imaginable, and the best part of them is that one can go in any sort of an outing suit without feeling _de trop_. even the dwellers in the big apartment houses are able to give these high-in-the-air festivals, and they have become very popular from the fact that they are so informal and delightfully novel. if your roof is spacious and walled in by a high parapet so much the better, for, of course, one can always imagine danger if there be only a narrow coping about the edge. pick out a night when the clerk of the weather will be polite enough to give moon and stars and soft southern breezes. then cover the surface of the roof with rugs or else stretch a matting over the tin. improvise couches upon boxes covered with rugs, or bring up a couple of cots and pile cushions upon them. palms and plants placed about always add to the effect, and if you wish the place to look like a little bit of fairy land hang chinese lanterns on strings stretched about the edge, and when they are lit they will look remarkably pretty. if the roof be provided with ledges between your own and your neighbors, the bricks can be spread with napkins and refreshments arranged thereon. almost any sort of menu is permissible, but salads, sandwiches, olives, ice cream and liquid refreshments of all kinds are always in order. bachelor's parties. bachelors who live in apartments are giving "dutch" parties on roofs, and in those cases the refreshments consist of beer and ale served from the wood, rye bread and cheese sandwiches, sausages cooked in a chafing-dish and rhine wine in the cup. roof parties can be so elaborate that they will cost quite as much as a more pretentious function, but they are more enjoyable when they are simply gotten up. one was given in a fashionable part of the city, and the aid of the caterer and the decorator had been utilized in such a manner as to produce the effect of a gorgeous _al fresco_ reception. a gaily striped awning was stretched across the part of the roof where the edibles were spread upon a table loaded with flowers. a carpet was spread for a dance at one side with only the stars for a canopy. about the entire roof and reaching far up in a pyramid of light there were lanterns lit by electric lamps fastened within. there was a pleasant breeze blowing, and these many swaying colored lights produced a beautiful effect. rich rugs carpeted the roof surface, and flags were draped about the high coping. this party was given on the roof of a large hotel and was such a success that a number of similar ones were arranged for. a flower party. another young girls' entertainment is a "flower party"--an appropriate name, as the writer once attended one where all the young ladies wore snowy gowns, each beautifully adorned with the wearer's favorite flower. a large silver salver filled with sprigs of flowers awaited the young men in the reception-hall, and upon his entrance each selected according to his fancy a flower from the waiter and sent it up the decorated staircase to find its mate and the young lady wearing the matching one met him on the landing, pinned his chosen flower to the lapel of his coat and became his partner for the evening. bicycle teas. with the bicycle comes the bicycle tea. in the large cities these teas have been given for charity and have been great successes. but there is no reason why any girl may not give an attractive bicycle tea and make it very original. sandwiches in the shape of tennis rackets, with an olive steak in the center for a ball, are among the novelties. sandwiches in the shape of a wheel and a saddle might easily be cut. bicycle lanterns, which resemble glowworms, should furnish decoration. if possible, a bicycle tea should be given out of doors, where outing costumes would not be incongruous. a barn party. there is a big, red barn on a fine old farm, that is easily reached by city friends, and there, every year, is given an autumn revel in the shape of a genuine "barn dance." the mow is filled with sweet smelling hay and the cattle, stalled, are below. the big center floor is cleared and swept and reswept and chalked to make it fit for dancing feet. the decorations for the dance consume much time, and into them the hostess throws many a loving thought. pumpkins form the chief theme. in flower-like or hideous forms as jack-o'-lanterns they hold posts of honor on rafter and beam. the lanterns used are the regular farm lanterns, though the walk through the old-fashioned garden to the barn is outlined by the fancy japanese lanterns. ears of corn tied by fluttering ribbons, the husks turned back to show the golden ears, cornstalks, golden-rod, milkweed, woodbine and clusters of purple grapes are all worked into the decorations. the young folks learn by previous experiences not to wear perishable finery at the barn dance, and the girls all come in pretty wash-dresses that will stand a good romp. music is furnished by an old darkey fiddler, not violinist, who plays "money musk," "fisher's hornpipe," "ole dan tucker" and any number of plantation melodies. the supper, of course, is the best part of the dance to hungry city-bred people. hot coffee is served in bright new tin-cups, for these young people mimic harvesters; there is fried chicken, cold ham, potato salad, rolls with golden country butter that melts in one's mouth, plenty of fresh milk, pumpkin and apple pie, with cottage cheese, ginger cakes and doughnuts, and even cider for those who wish. the dance is always given during the full harvest moon and the stone wall which bounds the orchard, the old farm wagons, the grain bins and even the low apple trees furnish flirtation nooks for lovers. one year the barn dance was also a potato roast. huge fires were built on the lawn, and during the intermission the crowd gathered around the fires and roasted potatoes. this time, too, the dance was made a house party, and the girls were stowed away in the farmhouse while the boys enjoyed tents and the big haymow. is it any wonder that the pretty hostess' friends call her barn dance the big event of the year? bachelor women and their entertainments. the bachelor women in their cosy little city apartments, or even their one apartment, refuse to be debarred from the pleasure and privilege of giving the little entertainments so dear to the heart feminine. they not only give the most charming little "teas" and "coffees," but they are past masters in the use of the chafing dish and those who have feasted with them will no longer deem that liveried service and stately rooms are necessary to the proper receiving of one's friends. after all, "the highest hospitality is in giving what one has." hawthorne and his wife never forgot the little american studying art in rome, who, in her tower room, reached by many flights of stairs, made tea before their eyes, and took from a cupboard the cake and crackers that made her feast. neither will the world forget her, since she it was, who, in the "marble faun," is the hulda who fed the doves from the tower. a sandwich spread. a sandwich spread is another entertainment easily given by a "bachelor maid." this is a meal at which everything, barring the tea and coffee, is served in the form of a sandwich. not until one has tried does one realize to what excellence and variety this form of viand lends itself. deviled ham sandwiches, egg sandwiches, cheese sandwiches, lettuce sandwiches, potted ham, potted fish, potted cheese sandwiches, pineapple sandwiches, peanut sandwiches, cucumber sandwiches, tomato sandwiches, walnut sandwiches, oyster sandwiches and so on indefinitely. any modern cookbook will furnish the formulas for all these and more. "he or she," says one writer, "who partakes, forgets the presence of the folding bed and gas stove; of the curtained china cupboard in friendly proximity to the writing desk or easel. there is no paint on the artist's fingers, and the newspaper woman wears as pretty a gown as any woman could wish." private theatricals. the etiquette of invitations is the same for private theatricals, as for musicales. simply substituting the word, "theatricals," "charades," or "tableaux," whichever it is to be, in the left hand corner of the card. the same observances as to arranging the seats, toilettes of the guests, etc., are requisite, and performers should be equally careful not to fail at the last moment in taking their part. in reality they should be more so, since the failure of one performer might ruin the entire play. a drama entails more expense and care than characters and tableaux. a host or hostess should never take leading part unless it be especially urged upon them by the others, and even then it is not best, first, because the entertainers should never eclipse their guests, and, second, they should be free for a general oversight of the whole affair, ready to settle disputed points and find missing stage "properties." an effort should be made to assign, as nearly as possible, acceptable and suitable parts to all. those invited should display willingness to take parts assigned them, even if not the most important in the cast. all cannot be romeos or juliets. there are minor parts to play on all stages. learn the part given you thoroughly, and do your best to make the play a success. if sickness or unavoidable accident intervene, inform the hostess at once that she may be able to supply a substitute for the part. guests indulge in conversation between the acts, and the music of an orchestra often fills the pause. a carpenter is usually called in to build the temporary stage, or a curtain is fitted to rise and fall in the archway between two parlors; the first parlor being used for the audience room and the second one for stage, with dressing-room in the rear. a private billiard-room, also, can be used to good advantage. at the conclusion of the play, supper is served, and social conversation and dancing follow. a social evening. there are many ways of making pleasant entertainments out of these informal gatherings. such an evening may last from nine to twelve o'clock. where impromptu dancing is resorted to, as it so often is, another hour is sometimes added. if dancing be excluded, games, music, cards, or recitations should take its place. if neither card-playing, nor dancing is permitted, the supper usually becomes the feature of the evening. when friends are invited to pass an evening socially with cards and music, refreshments are always served. they can be placed upon the dining-room table, and the company invited to partake of them. they should consist of sandwiches or cold meats and rolls, and cakes and coffee or chocolate, or only cakes, ices and lemonade can be served. the best dishes the china closet affords should be used. or, the supper can be made an elaborate "sit-down" banquet. if the long table is not sufficient for all, the guests can be served in relays. the table should be prettily decorated. there are different forms of home parties, such as birthday celebrations, where gifts and toasts are in order, house-warmings, or a church party. when the supper is served in relays the hostess had better wait until the last table, and circulate about among those guests who have not yet been served. some appointed lady can serve as hostess at each table. the elder guests should be seated at the first. sometimes small tables are scattered about the rooms to accommodate those who cannot find place at the large table, thus all are served at once. where neither card-playing nor dancing are indulged in, it becomes necessary to find some other amusement. impromptu charades are sure to break the ice. a shadow party also, where any amount of sport can be had with a darkened room and a tightly stretched sheet illuminated from the rear, whereon shadows can be cast for guessing. there are also a great many interesting games of which enough can be furnished for an entire company. authors' parties are also amusing entertainments, but they must be arranged for beforehand. it is usual to take the works of one author and give out the characters to be represented to each one, that repetitions may be prevented. then the guessing that will follow when the company are all together, and the conversation that naturally ensues on literary subjects, ensures the success of the party. firelight parties are pleasurable affairs. there is no light furnished except by an open fire. the guests sit around in a circle and tell stories. each one is provided with a bunch of twigs, or fagot to be thrown on the fire, the guest being expected to sing a song, tell a story, give a recitation, or otherwise amuse the company while his fagot burns. conversaziones. these gatherings, as the name signifies, are devoted entirely to conversation, and are supposed to be chiefly gatherings of literary and scientific people. where one especially fine conversationalist is the star of the evening, one or two lesser lights should be invited to share with him the honors of the occasion. a country dinner. a summer dinner in the country has many pleasant features peculiar to itself. chief among these is its lack of formality, and city guests are always pleasurably entertained at the country dinner table. a good cook and a competent waitress are necessities. the flowers that ornament the table must partake of the field and forest rather than suggest the city hothouse. slender, light, glass vases and rose-bowls are best for the light grasses, field flowers and garden blossoms. pretty, modern, inexpensive china is sufficient for a country dinner, and not too much silverware should be used. light, clear soups should form the first course (mock turtle or ox-tail soup is not in order). the roast should be carved away from the table. plenty of fresh vegetables should be prepared, that being one of the privileges of country life. delightfully fresh salads are also at command of the suburban householder; and if the dining-room be cool and large, and therewith the grace be given of a beautiful view, what greater gift can the gods grant! let the housekeeper forbear to serve hot puddings or heavy pastries. fruit tarts, the freshest of fruits with great glass pitchers of country cream, cold custards, gelatine creams of all kinds and ice cream are always satisfactory; and many substitute for the heavy roast the lighter dishes of broiled fish, chicken, or chops. a cold boiled ham on the sideboard adds another dish to the board. etiquette of card playing and games. there is a certain etiquette to be observed in playing all social games. in card-playing especially this is a necessity. in the first place, it is the hostess who proposes the game. in the second, no one who refuses should be urged to join in the amusement. they may have conscientious scruples, and respect should be shown their principles. unless, however, this be the reason, no one should refuse to play from mere caprice when their presence is required to make up a table. new packs of cards should be provided by the hostess. playing for money, even the smallest amount, should be strictly avoided. it is unfit for the home parlor. those who do not understand playing should not join a set unless especially urged, as their ignorance is apt to spoil the pleasure of the others. the fingers should not be wet to deal the cards. partners should never exchange signs. let every one play his best and not act indifferent to the game. do not talk on all manner of topics; it disturbs those who enjoy the game. do not criticise, nor hurry other players. never lose temper over a game. to cheat is extremely ill-bred. if you have a poor partner manifest no annoyance. never reflect upon the playing of your opponents. those who have played together so much that they understand one another's play should not be partners in general company. never manifest anger at defeat, nor undue exultation at winning. these rules, many of them, apply to all other social games, both outdoors and in. outdoor amusements. coaching parties are delightful. they give much latitude for gay, pretty costumes, and there are few brighter pictures than that of a tally-ho coach as it dashes along the city boulevards and over the country roads to the music of jingling chains and winding horns. [illustration: outdoor sports.] appetites are sharpened by the long drive, and hampers must be well packed with substantial viands. potted meats, all manner of sandwiches, game pies, cold birds, and substantial beef and tongue, will be sure of appreciation. (see "dress," etc., for suitable attire.) hunting parties. hunting is very little favored by ladies on this side the water, though it is occasionally indulged in by a few. the enthusiasm, however, of a ride to hounds is much dampened by the knowledge that an anise-seed bag, instead of a fox, furnishes the scent over which the hounds give eager tongue. those who attempt to hunt must be at home in the saddle. (see "dress," etc., for appropriate attire.) archery, lawn tennis and croquet. these popular games have their own etiquette, rules, dress, etc., so thoroughly established that all devotees of these sports understand the routine without giving it place here. never dispute, or show any temper over the outcome of any game. boating and yachting. many ladies are quite expert with the oars, and boating, when not overdone, is a healthful and pleasant amusement. when gentlemen are with a party of ladies, one of them should step in the boat to steady it, while another "assists" the ladies in. see that their dress is so arranged that they will not get wet. inexperienced rowers should learn before joining a party. the stroke oar is the seat of honor. it may be offered to a guest. ladies should wear short dresses, free from encumbering draperies, heavy shoes, and a hat with a broad brim. heavy gloves, if they intend rowing, should be worn. yachting is a delightful and rather dangerous amusement. ladies wear warm wool dresses that water will not injure, made short in the skirt, and jaunty of cut, with sailor-like emblems for adornment. no young lady should go out alone with a gentleman either yachting or rowing. in yachting especially a boat is sometimes becalmed for hours and even all night. a party composed entirely of young people should have a chaperon. children's parties. the celebration of children's birthdays and other little anniversaries by means of parties, is a pleasant custom and one worthy of observance. such red-letter days are long remembered by the little ones. the invitations are issued in the children's own names, and may be written or engraved. usually they are written upon small note sheets and enclosed in small envelopes. if the invitation is for a christmas-tree, or an easter-egg hunt, a tiny tree, or a colored egg, may ornament one corner of the sheet. the form varies hardly at all: miss gertrude hall requests the pleasure of miss clara winship's company, on wednesday, june twentieth. from three until five o'clock. madison avenue. these invitations should be carefully and promptly answered in the same form as given and in the third person. (see "invitations," etc.) this teaches the little host or hostess the gravity of their position as entertainers, and impresses the little guests with the importance of their behavior. also giving them an early lesson in the etiquette of social life. if it is a birthday party, a birthday cake will be the chief feature, and it is a pretty fancy to have it decorated with as many tiny wax candles as there are years in the child's life in whose honor the party is given. these tapers may be placed around the cake, or put in tin tubes and sunk into the top of the cake. light them just before the little guests are called out to the table. at the close of the supper the child whose birthday it is, blows out the candles, and, if old enough, cuts the cake and passes it. presents are sometimes brought by the guests, but it is not best to encourage this fashion. dancing or games may follow the supper, and older persons should constantly superintend the amusements to see that the merriment does not flag, nor the little folks become too boisterous. at an easter party, dainty little egg-shaped boxes, filled with bon-bons, may be placed at each plate, or else hidden in a room from which the lighter articles of furniture have been removed, and the children permitted to search for them. the hunt is the chief pleasure. if it is a christmas party the tree is the source of interest, and often a make-believe santa claus adds to the merriment of the occasion. the refreshments should be simple but fanciful. make the table bright as possible--snowballs, cornucopias, lady-fingers, assorted cakes, love-knots, sandwiches (fancy), crystalized fruits, tarts, sliced tongue, pressed veal, thin bread and butter, rolled and tied, ice cream in molds, and one large heavily-frosted cake. a host of flowers, and the table is complete. lemonade for a drink, or perhaps hot chocolate. the good breeding learned, the opportunities of impressing upon children the beauty of self-denial and politeness, and of teaching them to dispense, and to receive hospitalities, and to restrain that tendency toward favoring certain playmates, so strong in childhood, will more than repay for the trouble of preparing the feast. never permit the party to extend to late hours, and never overdress the little folks. white is always suitable for girls, and jacket suits for boys under the age for long trousers. [illustration] christenings, confirmations and graduations. [illustration] announcement cards are frequently sent out to all friends immediately upon the arrival of a little heir or heiress. these cards are variously worded. one seen by the writer was as follows: arrived: in los gatos, sunday morning, november third, eighteen hundred and ninety-five, florence wescott. weight, ten pounds; blue eyes and sound lungs. she sends greeting to all her friends. a simpler one would be: greeting: edith may toucey, november , . weight, - / pounds. these cards received (or even if they are omitted), the lady friends and acquaintances call and leave cards with kind inquires or send them by a servant. gentlemen do not call, but they are expected to see the happy father and inquire after mother and child. when the mother is ready to receive friends she sends out cards to all that have called "with thanks for kind inquiries," written beneath her name, or issues invitations for a candle or christening party. the christening. the baptism or christening is performed according to the rites of whatever church the parents may be members of. if the ceremony is performed in church, personal fancy has very little play, though it is almost a law that flowers shall cluster about the place where little ones are brought for dedication. if the occasion is to be further celebrated by festivities at the house they may take whatever form is most agreeable. when the christening is held at the house and guests are invited, it is customary to defer the ceremony until the mother is ready to take the part of hostess; usually until the child is a month or six weeks old. invitations are issued for an afternoon or early evening reception. they may be written or engraved, and are issued in the name of both parents, thus: mr. and mrs. james gray request the pleasure of your presence at the christening of their son at half-past four o'clock, wednesday, may tenth. madison avenue. or: mr. and mrs. john thurston request the honor of mr. and mrs. brown's presence at the christening of their daughter on thursday, may th, at three o'clock. reception from two to five, delaware place. sometimes the words, "no presents expected," are added to the invitation. attendance at the ceremony. these invitations are promptly answered, and those who attend should wear a reception dress. the solemnity of the occasion should be recognized by the appearance, previous to the hour named, of all who expect to be present. those who cannot be in time to witness the ceremony should defer their arrival until a sufficient time has elapsed to allow of its completion. a temporary font is placed in a central position. this is best arranged by banking up the top of a small round table with mosses, smilax and delicate ferns, while the top, outside the rim of the bowl holding the china basin containing the water, is a mass of white flowers. the drawing-room may be decorated with blossoms, and vocal or instrumental music is usually provided. hired musicians are sometimes engaged. see that the selections are suitable to the sacred character of the occasion. friends are sometimes asked to give two or three vocal selections. at the appointed time the father and mother stand before the clergyman at the font and receive their child from the nurse or some friend; the godparents range themselves on either side, and the clergyman proceeds with the service. if the parents are able, the clergyman is usually given a handsome fee on these occasions. congratulations are offered the father and mother, and the baby, robed elaborately, then becomes the center of attraction for a few moments, until the host leads the way to the refreshment table which is bountifully spread as for a reception. a toast in the child's honor is often given at this time by one of the sponsors. guests shortly disperse. after calls are made, or cards left, within ten days. sometimes relatives only are invited to these parties. when the christening is held in church, the party is set for some hour of the same day. godfathers and godmothers. in selecting godparents or sponsors, relatives are often given precedence and very close friends come next. be careful in the choice, as from these godparents is to be expected much good counsel and kindly aid in the future. in all old countries this relationship is expected to last for a lifetime, and the godparents are supposed to watch over the religious growth of the child and see that in due time he is brought forward for confirmation, or for union with the church in some other manner. a boy is expected to have two godfathers and one godmother; a girl one godfather and two godmothers. a note is sent to each person selected as sponsor asking him to assume that friendly office. this request should never be refused except for good and sufficient reason. godparents usually make a present to the child, generally in the form of some suitable silver article. among the very wealthy, especially if the child bears the godfather's name, very valuable presents are often made, these generally taking the form of checks for large amounts. candle party. the modern candle party is given when the child is about six weeks old, and is quite a separate affair from the christening, the church having objected in some cases to having the two celebrated at the same time. candle parties, simply in the nature of a name-festival, are frequently given when the christening is not observed. invitations are sent out one week in advance, and are in the following form: mr. and mrs. brown request your company, wednesday afternoon, at three. candle. vancouver street. no presents expected. the words, "no presents," need not prevent any who wish from making a gift, but relieves those who may not be prepared. the phrase, "candle party," is somewhat difficult to define, but the name and the custom have come down from olden times. it used then to be the habit to serve all who called with inquiries and congratulations on the arrival of a little stranger, with a kind of spiced gruel, flavored with rum or madeira, and known as "candle." this was served in china cups having two handles, so they could be passed from one to another. these were called "candle cups," and are much prized heirlooms in more than one old family. this ceremony was then observed when the child was three days old; now the "candle party" is celebrated when it is at least six weeks old. the mother receives her guests in some elaborate house gown, the baby in robes of state is on exhibition for a short time, and the guests are served with "candle" in the form of an oatmeal gruel, long and slowly boiled with raisins and spices, and fine old madeira or rum added at the last until the beverage is "to the queen's taste." christening gifts. when the announcement cards of a baby's birth are sent out, very many friends of the family interpret this as an opportunity for making a present to the new arrival. this is not a new social custom, for its origin goes back to the time of the chaldean shepherds, when wise men of the east journeyed to the stable cradle to present their gifts of frankincense and myrrh. the most sensible plan in this case, and, in fact, in all gift making, is to consult the condition of the recipient as well as the purse of the giver. if the parental purse is a little slim, gifts that are useful are generally the best to give. dainty gowns, embroidered flannels, coach rugs, things that every baby needs. the least expensive and simplest gifts and always of use, are the lace pin, shoulder pin and chained buttons in gold. three pins connected by delicate gold chains are very much in demand, and a studding of turquoise of pearl adds much to their beauty. the dear little silver-backed brushes and powder boxes have always been favorites. one exquisite present from a point of sentiment and value was recently presented to a girl. each of her father's groomsmen sent a five-dollar gold piece to the goldsmith, who melted them down and transformed them into a gold chain and locket. the locket bore the monogram of the baby and the initial letter of each groomsman's name. dainty presents for the newcomer. another tiny new woman received from her grandmother a spoon which was made of little bits of silver melted down. a silver piece taken from the pocket of a dead aunt, two or three bits left in the purse of the grandfather, who had died; a bit of a broken spoon used by the baby's own mamma--these and other souvenirs of the family history made the gift spoon something far out of the ordinary. one of the most magnificent and costly gifts in silver that is given to the baby is the entire food set, consisting of plate, bowl, pitcher, knife and fork, spoon and napkin ring. these sets come in cases and range in prices ordinarily from $ to $ , though some very elaborate ones may be ordered which go far into the hundreds. a very pretty and surely most interesting gift that could be sent to a baby is a baby diary in which the principal events of the little one's life can be entered by the mother and kept in after years as a record of those marvelously interesting days of babyhood. a certain very sensible woman usually deposits a small sum of money in [transcriber's note: a] bank and presents the bank book to her little new friend, thus laying the foundation for future habits of economy and thrift. some birthday superstitions. monday's child is fair of face. tuesday's child is full of grace. wednesday's child is born for woe. thursday's child has far to go. friday's child is loving and giving. saturday's child must work for a living. but the child that is born on the sabbath day, is bonny and happy and wealthy and gay. confirmation. in the episcopal, lutheran and roman catholic churches, "confirmation is the sequel of baptism." here comes in one of the duties of the godparents, and should the child become orphaned, or should its parents by reason of carelessness, or irreligion, neglect this important matter, the church holds the godparents in a large measure responsible that these children be brought before the bishop for confirmation. some weeks prior to the arrival of the bishop, persons desirous of admission to the church present their names to the clergymen, and classes are formed of instruction and preparation for the solemn event. the ceremony of the confirmation service is in accordance with the forms of the church in which it is observed. the only uniformity being in the garb of the young candidates. this for the girls is always gowns of purest white, with gloves and shoes to match. white bound prayer-books should be carried, and in the roman catholic and the lutheran churches white veils and wreaths crown the young heads. for the youths, black suits, black ties and gloves are the proper thing. graduation. with the important event of graduation ends the three great ceremonies of youth. the church and the school have both set their seal upon the young man and maiden, and the business world and the social world are waiting to receive them. in the matter of dress for this important event, the young man is supposed to confine himself to conventional black with white tie. the young girl is usually in white, with gloves, shoes, hose and fan to match. this, however, depends upon the taste of the class, as they expect to dress alike, and often select some other delicate shade of color for the class costume. avoid all extravagance. there is one thing to be remembered--that is, that too much extravagance should not be displayed in the selection and adornments of the gown for the occasion. in the first place, simplicity is the prerogative of youth. in the second, it is bad taste to overload a young schoolgirl with expensive materials and lavish ornaments. in the third, there will always be found in every graduating class one or more students to whose purse the expenses incident upon the school course have been a heavy drain, and to whom compliance with the style of dress worn by other members of the class will mean a serious strain upon the home exchequer, or the incurring of a debt for the future, while to dress as their purse affords requires more self-denial than an outsider realizes. the slights, the sneers of insolent classmates have driven more than one sensitive soul to solitude and tears, and clouded what should have been the bright beginning of life with sorrow and anger. directors of schools have more than once striven to do away with this abuse of the occasion by prescribing the dress to be worn, but with poor success, since sumptuary laws are not kindly received in this free country. now, the remedy lies in the hands of the girls themselves, and with their parents. let it be once understood that such a display is the mark of social _parvenus_, of the newly-rich, and the custom will cease to exist. friends bring flowers to the place of graduation which are sent up, either by the ushers, who are chosen among intimates of the classmates, or by tiny boys dressed as pages. these floral offerings have come to be so extensive that the stage is often banked with the beautiful blossoms. here, too, is another abuse. to those who have few friends, and less money, the absence of these remembrances is often so marked as to cause many a heartache. cards with the donor's name and the words, "congratulations," or "graduation congratulations," penned in one corner, are tied with narrow ribbons to these gifts. presents of a more substantial nature are also sent up; books, watches, jewels, etc., and have a more lasting remembrance than the fleeting blossoms. one of the prettiest floral gifts seen on an occasion of graduation was a graceful ship, white sailed, and lovely, all of fragrant flowers, and full freighted with the hopes and prayers for the young legal graduate, who was sole son of the house. carriages convey the graduates to and from the hall, and a class reception is supposed to finish the long round of the gaieties of "class week." [illustration] etiquette of funerals and mourning [illustration] the great sorrow brought upon a family by the death of a loved one renders the immediate members of the family incapable of attending to the necessary arrangements for the funeral. the services of an intimate friend, or a relative, should, therefore, be sought. he should receive general instructions from the family, after which he should take entire charge of the arrangements, and relieve them from all care on the subject. if such a person cannot be had, the arrangements may be placed in the hands of the sexton of the church the deceased attended in life, or of some responsible undertaker. the expenses of the funeral should be in accordance with the means of the family. no false pride should permit the relatives to incur undue expense in order to make a showy funeral. at the same time, affection will dictate that all the marks of respect which you can provide should be paid to the memory of your beloved dead. funeral invitations. in some parts of the country it is customary to send notes of invitation to the funeral to the friends of the deceased and of the family. these invitations should be printed, neatly and simply, on mourning paper, with envelopes to match, and should be delivered by a private messenger. the following is a correct form, the names and dates to be changed to suit the occasion: "yourself and family are respectfully invited to attend the funeral of david b. jones, on tuesday, march , -, at o'clock a.m., from his late residence, amber street, to proceed to laurel hill cemetery." where the funeral is from a church, the invitation should read: "yourself and family are respectfully invited to attend the funeral of david b. jones, from the church of the holy trinity, on tuesday, march , -, at o'clock a.m., to proceed to laurel hill cemetery." where such invitations are sent, a list of persons so invited must be given to the person in charge of the funeral, in order that he may provide a sufficient number of carriages. no one to whom an invitation has not been sent should attend such a funeral, nor should those invited permit anything but an important duty to prevent their attendance. when the funeral is at the house, some near relative or intimate friend should act as usher, and show the company to their seats. showing respect for the dead. preserve a decorous silence in the chamber of death--speak as little as possible, and then only in low, subdued tones. the members of the family are not obliged to recognize their acquaintances. the latter show their sympathy by their presence and considerate silence. as the coffin is borne from the house to the hearse, gentlemen who may be standing at the door or in the street remove their hats, and remain uncovered until it is placed in the hearse. the pall-bearers should be chosen from among the intimate friends of the deceased, and should correspond to him in age and general character. with regard to sending flowers, the wishes of the family should be considered. if you are uncertain upon this point, it is safe to send them. they should be simple and tasteful. letters of condolence are sent to those in bereavement by their intimate friends. we append a few forms that will be helpful to all persons who wish to express their sympathy with the bereaved. to a lady on the death of her husband. cleveland, o., june , -. dear mrs. walrod: though i know that no words of mine can bring comfort to your sorely tried heart, yet i can not refrain from writing to you to express my deep and heartfelt sympathy in your affliction. knowing your husband as intimately as i did, i can understand what a blow his death is to you. he was a man whose place will not be easily filled in the world; how impossible to fill it in his home! you are, even in your loss, fortunate in this. he left behind him a name unsullied, and which should be a priceless legacy to his children and to you. his life was so pure and his christian faith so undoubted, that we may feel the blessed assurance that he has gone to the home prepared for those who love and faithfully serve the lord jesus. this should comfort you. you have the hope of meeting him one day in a better and a happier union than the ties that bound you here on earth. he waits for you, and reunited there, you will know no more parting. i pray god to temper your affliction and give you strength to endure it. may he, in his own good time, give you the peace that will enable you to wait with patience until he shall call you to meet your loved one in heaven. sincerely yours, walter bailey. mrs. lydia walrod, new york. to a friend on the death of her sister. geneva, n.y., may , -. my dear nellie: the melancholy intelligence of your sister's death has grieved me more than i can express, and i beg to render you my heartfelt sympathy. truly we live in a world where solemn shadows are continually falling upon our path--shadows that teach us the insecurity of all temporal blessings, and warn us that here "there is no abiding place." we have, however the blessed satisfaction of knowing that death cannot enter that sphere to which the departed are removed. let hope and faith, my dear friend, mingle with your natural sorrow. look to that future where the sundered ties of earth are reunited. very sincerely yours, sarah clark. to miss nellie barton, no. beacon place, boston. to a friend on the death of his brother. chicago, july -. dear mr. ames: in the death of your brother, you have sustained a misfortune which all who had the pleasure of knowing him can feelingly estimate. i condole with you most sincerely on the sad event, and if the sympathy of friends can be any consolation under the trying circumstance, be assured that all who knew him share in your sorrow for his loss. there is, however, a higher source of consolation than earthly friendship, and, commending you to that, i remain, yours sincerely, jerome c. hoover. g.h. ames, st. louis. to a friend on the death of her child. atlanta, ga., november , -. my dear blanche: i feel that a mother's sorrow for the loss of a beloved child cannot be assuaged by the commonplaces of condolence, yet i must write a few lines to assure you of my heartfelt sympathy in your grief. there is one thing, however, that should soften the sharpness of a mother's agony under such a bereavement. it is the reflection that "little children" are pure and guileless, and that of such is the kingdom of heaven. "it is well with the child." much sin and woe has it escaped. it is treasure laid up in a better world, and the gate through which it has passed to peace and joy unspeakable is left open so that you, in due time, may follow. let this be your consolation. affectionately yours, maud trowbridge. to mrs. blanche norton, new haven, conn. to a friend on a sudden reverse of fortune. louisville, ky., june , -. my dear friend: hackneyed phrases of condolence never yet comforted a man in the hour of trouble, and i am not going to try their effect in your case. and yet let me say, in heartfelt earnest, that i was deeply pained to hear of your sudden and unexpected reverse of fortune. misfortune is very hard to bear, when it falls upon one, like a flash of lightning from a clear sky, without any warning. but do not be discouraged. when senator benton saw the work of many years consumed in ten minutes, he took the matter coolly, went to work again, and lived long enough to repair the damage. so i hope will you. there is no motto like "try again," for those whom fate has stricken down. besides, there are better things than wealth even in this world, to say nothing of the next, where we shall neither buy nor sell. if i can be of any assistance to you, let me know it, and i will help you as far as i am able. in the meantime, cheer up, and believe me as ever, yours sincerely, james sterling. h.r. drayton, covington, ky. [illustration: "she entered on untroubled rest."] etiquette of public places [illustration] there is no surer mark of a well-bred man or woman than proper and dignified conduct in public. the truly polite are always quiet, unobtrusive, considerate of others, and careful to avoid all manifestations of superiority or elegance. loud and boisterous talking, immoderate laughing and forward and pushing conduct are always marks of bad breeding. they inevitably subject a person to the satirical remarks of the persons with whom he is thrown, and are perhaps the surest means of proclaiming that such a person is not used to the ways of polite society. etiquette in church. it is the duty of a well-bred person to attend church regularly on sunday. in entering the church you should pass quietly and deliberately to your pew or seat. walking rapidly up the aisle is sure to disturb the congregation. if you are a stranger, wait in the lower part of the aisle until the sexton or ushers show you a seat, or you are invited to enter some pew. a gentleman should remove his hat as soon as he enters the inner doors of the church, and should not replace it on his head after service until he has reached the outer vestibule. in accompanying a lady to church, pass up the aisle by her side, open the pew door for her, allow her to enter first, and then enter and seat yourself beside her. should a lady desire to enter a pew in which you are sitting next the door, rise, step out into the aisle, and allow her to enter. once in church, observe the most respectful silence except when joining in the worship. whispering or laughing before the service begins, or during service, is highly improper. when the worship is over, leave the sacred edifice quietly and deliberately. you may chat with your friends in the vestibule, but not in the hall of worship. remember, the church is the house of god. should you see a stranger standing in the aisle, unnoticed by the sexton or usher, quietly invite him into your pew. you should see that a stranger in your pew is provided with the books necessary to enable him to join in the service. if he does not know how to use them, assist him as quietly as possible. where there are not books enough for the separate use of each person, you may share yours with an occupant of your pew. in attending a church of a different denomination from your own you should carefully observe the outward forms of worship. stand up when the congregation do, and kneel with them. a protestant attending a roman catholic church should be careful to do this. it involves no sacrifice of principle, and a failure to do so is a mark of bad breeding. whatever the denomination, the church is devoted to the worship of god. your reverence is to him--not to the ministers who conduct the worship. to be late at church is an offence against good manners. gentlemen will not congregate in groups in front of a church, and stare at the ladies as they pass out. in receiving the holy communion both hands should be ungloved. etiquette of fairs. fairs are generally given in aid of a church or some charitable purpose. at such fairs ladies serve the tables at which articles are offered for sale. ladies should not use unfair or unladylike means to sell their wares. do not importune a gentleman to buy of you; and do not charge an extortionate price for a trifling article. a young man may not have the courage to refuse to buy of a lady acquaintance; but his purchase may be beyond his means, and may involve him in serious embarrassment. visitors to a fair should make no comments upon the character or quality of the articles offered, unless they can offer sincere praise. do not dispute the price of an article offered for sale. if you cannot afford to buy it, decline it frankly. if you can, pay the sum asked, although you may think it exorbitant, and make no comment. a gentleman must remove his hat upon entering the room in which a fair is held, although it be a public hall, and remain uncovered while in the room. flirting, loud or boisterous talking or laughing, and conspicuous conduct, are marks of bad breeding. when a purchaser offers a sum larger than the price asked for the article, return the change promptly. some thoughtless young ladies consider it "a stroke of business" to retain the whole amount, knowing that a gentleman will not insist upon the return of the change. to do this is simply to be guilty of an act of gross ill-breeding. a lady may accept any donation of money a gentleman may wish to make at her table. the gift is to the charity, not to her; and the gentleman pays her a delicate compliment in making her the means of increasing the receipts of the fair. etiquette of shopping. in visiting a store for the purpose of examining the goods or making purchases, conduct yourself with courtesy and amiability. speak to the clerks and employés of the store with courtesy and kindness. do not order them to show you anything. request them to do so in a polite and ladylike or gentlemanly manner. give them no more trouble than is necessary, and express your thanks for the attentions they may show you. in leaving their counter, say pleasantly, "good-morning," or "good-day." by treating the employés of a store with courtesy, you will render your presence there, welcome, and will receive all the attention such conduct merits. should you find another person examining a piece of goods, do not take hold of it. wait until it is laid down, and then make your examination. to attempt to "beat down" the price of an article is rude. in the best conducted stores the price of the goods is "fixed," and the salesmen are not allowed to change it. if the price does not suit you, you are not obliged to buy, but can go elsewhere. pushing or crowding at a counter, or the indulgence in personal remarks, handling the goods in a careless manner, or so roughly as to injure them, lounging upon the counter, or talking in a loud voice, are marks of bad breeding. never express your opinion about an article another is purchasing, unless asked to do so. to say to a customer about to make a purchase that the article can be bought cheaper at another store, is to offer a gratuitous insult to the clerk making the sale. you should never ask or expect a clerk engaged in waiting upon a customer to leave that person and attend to you. wait patiently for your turn. it is rude to make unfavorable comparisons between the goods you are examining and those of another store. have your parcels sent, and so avoid the fatigue of carrying them. it is best to buy for cash. you can always buy cheaper in this way. if you make bills, however, pay them promptly. make no bill you are not sure of paying at the time promised by you. avoid debt as the greatest curse of life. etiquette of the theatre, opera and concert. a gentleman, desiring a lady to accompany him to the opera, theatre, or other place of amusement, must send her a written invitation not later than the day previous to the entertainment. it must be written in the third person, upon white note-paper of the best quality, with an envelope to match. the lady must send her reply immediately, so that should she be unable to accept, the gentleman may secure another companion. should the lady accept the invitation, the gentleman must secure the best seats within his means. to ask a lady to accompany you to a place of amusement, and incur the risk of being obliged to stand during the performance, is to be inexcusably rude to her. should the demand for seats be so great that you cannot secure them, inform her at once, and propose another occasion when you can make this provision for her comfort. in entering the hall in which the entertainment is given, a gentleman should walk by the side of the lady until the seat is reached. if the width of the aisle is not sufficient to allow this, he should precede her. as a rule, he should take the outer seat; but if this is the best for seeing or hearing, it belongs to the lady. the habit of leaving ladies alone during the "waits," and going out to "get a drink," or "to speak to a friend," is indicative of bad manners. a gentleman escorting a lady to a place of amusement is bound to remain by her side to the end of the entertainment. between the acts. at the opera it is customary for ladies and gentlemen to leave their seats, and promenade in the lobbies or _foyer_ of the house during the intervals between the acts. the gentleman should always invite the lady to do so. should she decline, he is bound to remain with her. a gentleman accompanying a lady is not bound to give up his seat to another lady. his duty is solely to the lady he accompanies. he cannot tell at what moment she may need his services, and must remain where she can command them. it is rude to whisper or talk during a performance. it is discourteous to the performers, and annoying to those of the audience around you, who desire to enjoy the entertainment. to seek to draw attention to yourself at a place of amusement is simply vulgar. it is in especial bad taste for lovers to indulge in any affectionate demonstrations at such places. a gentleman must see that the lady accompanying him is provided with a programme. if at the opera, he must also provide her with a libretto. applause is the just due of the deserving actor, and should be given liberally. applaud by clapping the hands, and not by stamping or kicking with the feet. upon escorting the lady back to her home, the gentleman should ask permission to call upon her the next day, which request she should grant. she should, in her own sweet way, cause him to feel that he has conferred a genuine pleasure upon her by his invitation. a gentleman who can afford it should always provide a carriage on such occasions. if his means do not permit this, he should not embarrass himself by assuming the expense. if the evening be stormy, he should not expect the lady to venture out without a carriage. a gentleman should call at the lady's house in full time to allow them to reach their destination before the commencement of the entertainment. [illustration] walking, riding, boating, driving. [illustration] your conduct on the street should always be modest and dignified. loud and boisterous conversation or laughter and all undue liveliness are improper in public, especially in a lady. when walking on the street do not permit yourself to be so absent-minded as to fail to recognize your friends. walk erect and with dignity, and do not go along reading a book or a newspaper. should you stop to speak to a friend, withdraw to the side of the walk with him, that you may not interrupt the passing of others. should your friend have a stranger with him, apologize to the stranger for the interruption. you must never leave your friend with whom you are walking to speak to another without first asking him to excuse you. in walking with a lady on the street, give her the inner side of the walk, unless the outside is the safer part, in which case she is entitled to it. your arm should not be given to any lady except your wife or a near relative, or a very old lady, during the day, unless her comfort or safety require it. at night the arm should always be offered; also in ascending the steps of a public building. a gentleman should accommodate his walk to that of a lady, or an elderly or delicate person. when a lady with whom a gentleman is walking wishes to enter a store, he should open the door, permit her to pass in first, if practicable, follow her, and close the door. he should always ring door bells or rap at a door for her. a gentleman should never pass in front of a lady, unless absolutely necessary, and should then apologize for so doing. should a lady ask information of a gentleman on the street, he must raise his hat, bow, and give the desired information. if unable to do so, he must bow and courteously express his regrets. in crossing the street, a lady should gracefully raise her dress a little above her ankle with one hand. to raise the dress with both hands is vulgar, except in places where the mud is very deep. a gentleman meeting a lady acquaintance on the street should not presume to join her in her walk without first asking her permission. it may not be agreeable to her, or convenient that her most intimate friend should join her. she has the right, after granting such permission, to excuse herself and leave the gentleman whenever she may see fit; and a gentleman will never take offense at the exercise of such a right. if it is inconvenient for a lady to accept the gentleman's company, she should frankly say so, mentioning some reason, and excusing herself with friendly courtesy. gentlemen give place to ladies, and to gentlemen accompanying ladies, in crossing the street. if you have anything to say to a lady whom you may happen to meet in the street, however intimate you may be, do not stop her, but turn round and walk in company; you can take leave at the end of the street. etiquette of the street. when you are passing in the street, and see coming toward you a person of your acquaintance, whether a lady or an elderly person, you should offer them the wall--that is to say, the side next the houses. if a carriage should happen to stop in such a manner as to leave only a narrow passage between it and the houses, beware of elbowing and rudely crowding the passengers, with a view to get by more expeditiously. wait your turn, and, if any of the persons before mentioned come up, you should edge up to the wall, in order to give them the place. they also, as they pass, should bow politely to you. when two gentlemen accompany a lady in a walk, she should place herself between them, and not unduly favor either. a gentleman meeting a lady friend accompanied by another gentleman should not join her unless satisfied that his presence is agreeable to both parties. a lady should not venture out upon the street alone after dark. by so doing she compromises her dignity, and exposes herself to indignity at the hands of the rougher class. when a lady passes the evening with a friend, she should make arrangements beforehand for some one to come for her at a stated hour. if this cannot be done, or if the escort fails to come, she should courteously ask the host to permit a servant to accompany her home. a married lady may, if circumstances render it necessary, return home alone. an unmarried lady should never do so. should your host offer to accompany you himself, decline his offer, politely stating that you do not wish to give him so much trouble; but should he insist upon it, accept his escort. in the case of a married lady, the husband should always come for her. he is an ill-bred fellow who refuses to render his wife such attention. a lady, upon arriving at her home, should always dismiss her escort with thanks. a gentleman should not enter the house, although invited by the lady to do so, unless for some especial reason. evading a long talk. never offer to shake hands with a lady in the street if you have on dark gloves as you may soil her white ones. if, when on your way to fulfil an engagement, a friend stops you in the street, you may, without committing any breach of etiquette, tell him of your appointment, and release yourself from a long talk; but do so in a courteous manner, expressing regret for the necessity. a lady does not form acquaintances upon the street, or seek to attract the attention of the other sex, or of persons of her own sex. her conduct is always modest and unassuming. neither does a lady demand services or favors from gentlemen. she accepts them graciously, always expressing her thanks. a gentleman will not stand on the street corners, or in hotel doorways, or club windows, and gaze impertinently at ladies as they pass by. this is the exclusive business of loafers, upon which well-bred men will not trespass. do not shout to your acquaintances from the opposite side of the street. bow, or wave your hand, or make any courteous motion; but do it quietly and with dignity. if you wish to speak to them, cross the street, signalling to them your desire. a lady walking with two gentlemen should not take an arm of each; neither should a gentleman walk with a lady on each arm, unless at night, in coming from a place of amusement or passing through a crowd. in walking with a lady who has your arm, should you have to cross the street, do not disengage your arm and go around upon the outside unless the lady's comfort renders it necessary. in walking with a lady, where it is necessary for you to proceed singly, always go before her. etiquette of riding. the etiquette of riding is very exact and important. remember that your left when in the saddle is called the _near_-side, and your right the _off_-side, and that you always mount on the _near_-side. in doing this, put your left foot in the stirrup; your left hand on the saddle; then, as you take a spring, throw your right leg over the animal's back. remember, also, that the rule of the road, both in riding and driving, is, that you keep to the _right_. never appear in public on horseback unless you have mastered the inelegancies attending a first appearance in the saddle, which you should do at a riding-school. a novice makes an exhibition of himself, and brings ridicule on his friends. having got a "seat" by a little practice, bear in mind the advice conveyed in the old rhyme-- "keep up your head and your heart, your hands and your heels keep down, press your knees close to your horse's sides and your elbows close to your own." in riding with ladies, recollect that it is your duty to see them in their saddles before you mount. and the assistance they require must not be rendered by a groom; you must assist them yourself. the lady will place herself on the near side of the horse, her skirt gathered up in her left hand, her right on the pommel, keeping her face toward the horse's head. you stand at its shoulder, facing her, and stooping, hold your hand so that she may place her left foot in it; then lift it as she springs, so as to aid her, but not to give such an impetus that, like "vaulting ambition," she loses her balance, and "falls o' the other side." next, put her foot in the stirrup and smooth the skirt of her habit--then you are at liberty to mount yourself. [illustration: the proper position of a lady and gentleman in riding.] keep to the right of the lady or any ladies riding with you. open all gates and pay all tolls on the road. never, under any circumstances, allow a lady to attend to any duty of this kind while under your escort. you must anticipate her every need, and provide for it; making her comfort your first thought. if you meet friends on horseback, do not turn back with them; if you overtake them, do not thrust your company upon them unless you feel assured that it is agreeable to them for you to do so. if you are on horseback and meet a lady who is walking, and with whom you wish to speak, dismount for that purpose, and lead your horse. to put her to the inconvenience of straining after and shouting to you, would be a gross breach of manners. if you enter a carriage with a lady, let her first take her place on the seat facing the horses. enter a carriage so that your back is toward the seat you are to occupy; you will thus avoid turning round in the carriage, which is awkward. take care that you do not trample on the ladies' dresses, or shut them in as you close the door. [illustration: mode of assisting a lady into a carriage.] the rule in all cases is this: you quit the carriage first and hand the lady out. you may properly speed your horse in driving with a lady, but remember that it is vulgar to drive too fast; it suggests the idea of your having hired the "trap" from a livery stable, and is in every respect ungentlemanly. the carriage or buggy should be driven close to the sidewalk, and the horses turned from the sidewalk, so as to spread the wheels away from the step. the gentleman should then alight, quiet the horses, and hold the reins in his right hand as a guard against accidents. the lady should, in leaving the carriage, place her hands on the gentleman's shoulders, while he should place his under her elbows. then, with his assistance, she should spring lightly to the pavement, passing him on his left side to avoid the reins which he holds in his right. in driving, the gentleman must place a lady on his left. this leaves his right arm free to manage his horses. a gentleman should not drive fast if the lady accompanying him is timid, or objects to it. he should consult her wishes in all things, and take no risks, as he is responsible for her safety. above all, he should never race with another team. such conduct is disrespectful to the lady who accompanies him. the etiquette of boating. there are certain customs and usages in connection with this interesting pastime that deserve to be noted and observed. gentlemen unaccustomed to the management of a boat should never venture out with ladies. to do so is foolhardy, if not criminal. great care should be taken not to overload a boat. the frequent boating accidents that happen are in most instances due either to overloading, or to the inexperience of the man at the oars. men who cannot swim should never take ladies upon the water. assisting ladies to their seats. when the gentlemen are going out with the ladies, one of them steps into the boat and helps the ladies in and seats them, the other handing them down from the bank or pier. when the ladies have comfortably disposed themselves, and not before, the boat may be shoved off. great care must be taken not to splash the ladies, either in first dipping the oars or subsequently. neither should anything be done to cause them fright. [illustration: a boating party.] who should row. if a friend is with you, he must be given the preference of seats. you must ask him to row "stroke," as that is the place of honor. if you cannot row, do not pretend you can. say right out that you can't, and thus settle it, consoling yourself with the pleasant reflection that your confession entitles you to a seat by the side of the ladies and relieves you from the possibility of drowning the whole party. a popular exercise. rowing has become a great fad among the ladies in recent years, and it is to be commended as a wholesome and vigorous exercise. but it should be indulged only on quiet rivers or on private lakes. if ladies venture into more frequented waters, they must at least have the protection of a gentleman. and in all cases they must wear costumes proper for the exercise, which requires freedom of movement in every part. corsets should be left at home, and a good pair of stout boots should complete an equipment in which a skirt barely touching the ground, a flannel shirt and a sailor hat are the leading features. rowing gloves should protect the hands. the ordinary rowing costume for gentlemen is white flannel trousers, white rowing jersey and a straw hat. peajackets are worn when their owners are not absolutely employed in pulling the oar. [illustration] bicycle etiquette [illustration] cycling having taken such a mighty grasp upon the land, it has naturally followed that an etiquette of cycling should be established, and that it should be well established and rigidly regarded by society. there are the details of meeting, mounting, right of way and various other points which are carefully observed and give the desired air of fashionable righteousness, without which, for many people, the pleasure of meeting in a social way on one's wheel would be but legendary. it is distinctly understood in the first place that "cycling" is the correct word; the up-to-date woman dares not speak of bicycling nor of wheeling. a cycler's guide. if in town, the early hours of the morning are chosen for a ride through the park. this is on the same principle that it is considered good form for a young woman to drive only in the morning, that is, when she herself is the whip. in the country the rules, both as regards cycling and driving, are not as rigid. the maiden, however, who is a stickler for form, does all her cycling in the hours which come before noon--unless there be a special meet, a bicycle tea, for instance, or a spin by moonlight. neither is it correct for a young woman to ride unaccompanied. in the matter of chaperons we are becoming almost as rigid as the french, who scarcely allow a young girl to cross the street, to say nothing of shopping or calling, without being accompanied by an elder woman, her mother, relative, or a friend, as a chaperon. during the past few years there has been a tendency in america toward a closer imitation of all french etiquette which has brought in its train a strict construction of the duties of a chaperon. maids do duty. the unmarried woman who cycles must be chaperoned by a married lady--as every one rides nowadays, this is an affair easily managed. neither must the married woman ride alone; failing a male escort, she is followed by a groom or a maid. a woman is very fortunate if among her men or women servants, one knows how to ride a bicycle. ladies occasionally go to the expense of having a servant trained in the art. a man's duty. if one possesses such a commodity as a brother or a husband, he can always be made useful on a cycling excursion. never is a man better able to show for what purpose he was made than upon such occasions. the man's duty to the woman who rides might be made the text for a long sermon; but long sermons are never popular; therefore, it may be better to state briefly that he must always be on the alert to assist his fair companion in every way in his power--he must be clever enough to repair any slight damage to her machine which may occur _en route_, he must assist her in mounting and dismounting, pick her up if she has a tumble, and make himself generally useful and incidentally ornamental and agreeable. he rides at her left in order to give her the more guarded place, as the rule of the road in meeting other cyclers is the same as that for a carriage, to turn to the right. in england, the reverse is the case. assisting the lady. in mounting, the gentleman who is accompanying a lady holds her wheel; she stands on the left side of the machine and puts her right foot across the frame to the right pedal, which at the time must be up; pushing the right pedal causes the machine to start and then with the left foot in place, the rider starts ahead--slowly at first, in order to give her cavalier time to mount his wheel, which he will do in the briefest time possible. when the end of the ride is reached, the man quickly dismounts and is at his companion's side to assist her, she, in the meantime, assisting herself as much as possible. this is done--that is, dismounting in the most approved style--by riding slowly, and when the left pedal is on the rise, the weight of the body is thrown on it, the right foot is crossed over the frame of the machine, and, with an assisting hand, the rider easily steps to the ground. in meeting a party of cyclists who are known to each other and desire to stop for a parley, it is considered the proper thing for the men of the party to dismount while in conversation with the ladies. as to the furnishings of the bicycle, to be really complete, it must be fitted out with a clock and a bell, luggage carrier and a cyclometer, the latter being an absolute _sine qua non_ to the woman who cares for records. from five to six lessons are always considered necessary before one can master even the details of riding. on the road. on the road the woman who wishes to ride _à la mode_ has to know a number of little things that are overlooked by another woman, just as the smart set have a code for riding and driving that is as inexorable as that they should not eat with their knives or put sugar on oysters. society insists on an upright position, with, of course, no attempt at racing pace. it also frowns upon constant ringing of the bell--that will do for the vulgar herd who delight in noise. the well-informed wheelwoman keeps eye and ear alert and touches her bell rarely. she dresses daintily and inconspicuously--effaces herself, in fact, as much in this exercise as she does in all public places. very gallant escorts use a towrope when accompanying a lady on a wheeling spin. these are managed in various ways; one consists of an india-rubber door-spring just strong enough to stretch a little with the strain, and about six feet of shade cord. one end is attached to the lady's wheel at the lamp bracket or brake rod by a spring swivel, and the other end is hooked to the escort's handle bar in such a way that he can set it free in a moment, if necessary. when he has finished towing he drops back to the lady's side, hanging the loose end of the cord over her shoulder, to be ready for the next hill. a gentle pull that is a bagatelle to a strong rider is of great assistance to a weak one up hill or against a strong wind. for protection against dogs. every bicyclist in the land will rise up and call the inventor of the ammonia gun for dogs blessed. nothing is more annoying to the rider than to have a mongrel dog barking at his pedals and scurrying across his pathway in such close proximity to the front wheel as to be a constant reminder of a possible "header." the gun is calculated to make an annoying dog sneeze and sniff away all future ambitions to investigate the pace of a rider. it is said to be a perfect instrument in every way. the advantages enumerated for it are: positively will not leak; has no spring to press or caps to remove, and will shoot from five to twelve times from fifteen to thirty feet with one loading. a few don'ts for cyclers. don't try to raise your hat to the passing "bloomer" until you become an expert in guiding your wheel. don't buy a bicycle with down-curve handles. it is impossible to sit erect and hold that kind of a handle. don't go out on a bicycle wearing a tail coat unless you enjoy making a ridiculous show of yourself. don't travel without a jacket or loose wrap, to be worn while resting. a summer cold is a stubborn thing. don't allow a taste for a bit of color in your make-up to tempt you to wearing a red or other gay-colored cap. don't get off the old gag about "that tired feeling" every time you stop by the roadside for a little breathing spell. don't absent yourself from church to go wheeling, as you and your bicycle are welcome at most houses of worship. don't leave your bicycle in the lower hallway of your flat-house for the other tenants to fall over in the dark. don't believe the farmer boy who says that it is "two miles to the next town." it may be two, four, six or twelve. don't be more than an hour passing a given point, although wheeling on a dusty road is honestly conducive to thirst. don't smile at the figure others cut astride their wheels, as it is not given you to see yourself as others see you. don't coast down a strange hill with a curve at its bottom. there is no telling what you will meet when it is too late. don't ride ten miles at a scorching pace, then drink cold water and lie around on the grass, unless you are tired of life. don't try to carry your bike downstairs under your arm. put it on your shoulder, or you will come to distress. don't laugh the watchful copper to scorn because your lamp is burning brightly. he can afford to wait his time to laugh. don't dress immodestly or in the costume of a track sprinter. sweaters worn like a chinaman's blouse are almost indecent. don't forget that the modern law of the road requires you to turn out to the right in passing another bicycle or other vehicle. women's bicycle rides. "women who ride bicycles should make it a law with themselves never to ride after a feeling of weariness comes over them," said a well-known physician. "i just came from visiting a woman who tried to ride around the city last sunday. it was the fourth time she had ever ridden a wheel out of doors. she got half way around, came home, in street cars and a carriage, and has been sick in bed ever since. she ought to be an example to all women who ride. for those who are beginning, especially, and in a measure for all women, there is a great danger in overdoing. some women ride centuries, it is true, but they are men in strength. no ordinary woman should start out before knowing how far she is going. ordinarily, though, they ride twice as far as they ought. they start out and ride away from home until they get tired. "then they have to ride back, getting more and more exhausted with every turn of the wheels. no ordinary woman who rides once or twice a week should go more than ten miles at a trip. that is perhaps an hour's ride, that may be easily extended to an hour and a quarter before that distance is covered, and if she does not feel fresh and in a glow when she stops, she may be certain that she has ridden too long. naturally there is that healthy tired feeling which any one recognizes after athletic exercise, but it is quite different from and never to be mistaken for the weariness which comes from too much exertion and straining of the nerves and muscles. very few women have ever been injured on a bicycle who kept to this rule and limited their riding to nominal distances." length of the ride. "this limit of distance, which is designated by the feeling of weariness, is only a little more important than the limit of speed which the female frame is capable of undergoing under healthy exercising rules. whether a man can ride at full speed for a long distance and still retain his good health is a doubtful question. it is certain, however, that no woman can keep up a high rate of speed for even a generous portion of a mile and not create the beginning of injuries. the added strength required to increase speed even a little after a certain amount of power has been expended is out of all proportion to the results. there is no relaxation of the muscles between revolutions of the pedals, nor any let up on the nervous and muscular strain while the speed lasts. the heart is far more taxed than one realizes at the moment, and that species of tingling or numbness in the nerves and muscles which often results is only a sign that they have both been overtaxed." properly used, a wheel is certainly a promoter of health. it develops muscles that are seldom, if ever, otherwise used. it gains for women that ideal condition of the flesh so prized by sculptors and artists, namely, a firm, solid tissue when the muscles are flexed, and a softness of an infant with muscular relaxation. it develops the entire torso and limbs, it renders one's nerves like steel and is a splendid antidote for headaches. an exceedingly smart and yet thoroughly practical cycling costume is known as the "londonderry," and is made in gray-green hopsack, a soft fabric which lends itself admirably to the full folds of the ample knickerbockers, which form a most important part of this costume. the "londonderry" coat is made with long and very full basques, which form a kind of skirt when on the machine, and which, nevertheless, do not interfere in the least with the rider's freedom of action. this coat is prettily braided with black, and fastened with big black buttons. it is so arranged in front that it can be worn either with a shirt or over a double-breasted vest of cloth or leather. skirts are an abomination. a renowned lady writer says: "in the first place let me condemn the skirt--not from prejudice, but from experience. skirts, no matter how light, how trim, how heavy, are both a nuisance and a danger. a nuisance because they are always subject to entanglement in the wheel; because they fly up with every breeze and motion; because they have not the chic appearance of the properly made bloomer, and because, if they are weighted, like a riding habit, they make so much more to carry against the wind. and breeze makes weight. "they are a danger because with the constant pumping of the pedals the knee is required to raise too great a weight; this bears upon the body just below the back of the hips, giving backache; often more serious troubles. i wouldn't wear a skirt. i had one torn off me by the wheel; but i rode with them long enough to give a just comparison of the merits of skirts _versus_ bloomers. "riding suits should be of fine, light weight, navy blue or black material, made with bloomers, and the blouse with tailor-made jacket. i wear the sweater myself in preference, because it is not so apt to leave one subject to changes of temperature. the alpine hat of tam o'shanter is _au fait_ for street, with leggings to match the bloomers and jacket, and low shoes made broad on the ball of the foot. all bicycle shoes should be broad on the ball, because the pedaling is done with the ball, not with the under curve, as so many think. doeskin gloves are best for ordinary riding. bloomers should be made to fasten at the left side of the back, which leaves room for a pocket on the right side. tinted leggings should always match the hat and gloves. "tell the ladies to have their saddles built high and wide in the back, sloping away and downwards in front; and that if they pedal properly there is no reason why bicycling should not be a healthful, moral, modest and permanent form of exercise. for, mark it," she added, as a parting sally, "the wheel has come to stay." a pace indicator. a man who rides for health and pleasure and not to race or score centuries says that his plan is never to go so fast that he must breathe through his mouth. as long as his nostrils can supply sufficient air he knows that he is not over-exerting himself. as soon as he feels an inclination to breathe through his mouth he slackens his pace. don't dodge a bicycle. before bicycling will ever become a success a meeting must be called for the purpose of allowing the wheelmen and the pedestrian to arrive at some understanding. "i am in favor of a convention or something of that sort," said a prominent wheelman to a reporter. as it is now, a rider comes down the street and sees ahead of him at a crossing a man or woman who is supposed to be endowed with reasonable intelligence. this person is in the act of crossing the street. he looks up, sees the rider coming and stands still right in the middle of the street. of course, he is mentally calculating his chances for getting across safely. in the meantime, the rider is getting closer and closer and is in a study equally as profound as to what the person is going to do. the pedestrian takes a step forward, takes another glance up the street, stops, starts back, makes an effort to reach the pavement, stops again, starts forward, stops. of course, by this time the cyclist is almost at a standstill and is also zigzagging from one side to the other, waiting and muttering. the pedestrian seems to give up all possibility of escape, faces the rider, both arms extended, jumps from one foot to the other, and the two collide. the cyclist is thrown to the ground, his wheel twisted, and he gets the blame. and how easily all this can be avoided! let the pedestrian, instead of performing all these trying evolutions, merely walk along as though there was nothing behind him, keep his course, and the cyclist will know what to do. he will turn his wheel to one side and slide past with perfect ease and safety. on the crossings let a man walk along as though there were not a bicycle in the state, and the wheelman will judge his course accordingly. he has control of his wheel and is as anxious not to collide as the other fellow. [illustration] club etiquette. [illustration] club life in all large cities is becoming so important a factor of social life that no book on etiquette would be complete without some notice of its varied features. the membership of the smaller social clubs is chosen solely for the purpose of social enjoyment, and they frequently blackball names that are brought up for membership simply from the standpoint of some member to whom the one proposed may not be personally agreeable. if an applicant is blackballed once, his friends should not persist in introducing his name again. in the larger clubs, where the members are never all thrown together at any one time, no one should blackball a name from a personal standpoint. if any one, however, is aware of some blemish in the character of the candidate for admission, he has good grounds for objection. observing the rules. a new member of a club should at once acquaint himself with the rules and regulations that govern the organization and govern himself accordingly. the courtesy that obtains in the home is to be observed in the club-rooms. opinions of others should be respected, and exciting discussions, or disturbing topics of conversation, are to be avoided there, as they should be in the home circle. remember that every one has the same right to his preconceived opinions as you have to yours. treat all books, papers and other club property with due care. never take any article away from the club-house. never monopolize any one article to the exclusion of others. when there are certain rooms appointed for smoking, confine yourself to them when indulging in the weed. in the reading-room observe the same respect for the readers that you would wish observed toward yourself, only another rendering of the golden rule which is at the foundation of all good manners. while there converse very little, and that in a low tone of voice. do not look upon the servants of the club as your private property, and never send them on personal errands without first obtaining the consent of the manager. never expect undue attention from the waiters. do not take dogs into club-rooms; they are liable to destroy furniture, and everyone may not appreciate them as much as you do. morning dress is worn at the club. in the evening a dress suit may be worn if desired, but morning costume is equally appropriate. hats should be removed at luncheon or dinner. gentlemen will refrain from much mentioning of the names of ladies while in the club-rooms, or from indulging in scandal. serious ill-feeling is often aroused in this manner. many men refuse to listen to anything of the kind, and will retire if any such subject is brought up. introduction of friends. some clubs have cards for introducing visitors, as: _visiting card._ columbia club, madison square. admit mr. ____________________________ introduced by mr. ____________________________ club members are at liberty to introduce friends at their respective clubs, but care should be exercised in this respect, since they must vouch for their friends' behavior, and in many cases are held responsible for the debts they may contract. it is not at all necessary that such a guest should be formally presented to any of the officials, nor to many of the members, unless in the case of some guest whom the club would delight to honor. [illustration: reception at the club.] the guest of a club is expected to conform to all rules of the association while enjoying its hospitalities, but he may also avail himself of all its privileges, with the exception that he is not permitted to introduce another stranger. a gentleman about to leave town, and who has been entertained at a club, leaves his card in a sealed envelope for the gentleman who introduced him. ladies' clubs are now coming to the front in such profusion as to make it necessary to give them some notice. the same general rules of etiquette apply to them as to a club of men. as a rule, women's clubs have some especial feature, some object to call them into being. the most usual form that the club activities assume is that of literary work of some kind, either as a gathering of literary women, or simply a gathering of women for some particular form of literary study. they usually give club banquets and club luncheons, but rarely attain to the dignity of a café. barring out disputed questions. the temper of the meetings depends very largely on the kind of organization that holds them, whether, for instance, as in the case of sorosis, it is a club of refined and educated women, of literary and artistic pursuits and tastes, or whether it is one for reform, as temperance, suffrage, social purity, or religious development and work. the members of sorosis, when in session, are well-bred, if not always clear-headed and reasonable. religious gatherings of women are seldom other than of good temper, and quiet in their tone. political meetings and sectarian meetings are apt to be turbulent. this fact has been recognized by some women's clubs, sorosis, for example, and they will not permit the subjects to be discussed or introduced in any way at meetings. the various business womens' and working girls' clubs are instituted for the sole purpose usually of furnishing good lunches at the noon hour at reasonable rates, and combine this feature with pleasant reception and lounging rooms, and often with various literary and business courses of study. there is one ladies' suburban club--the alexandra--the most exclusive of london's women clubs. it is also the most successful. no individual of the other sex above the age of twelve is admitted beyond the doormat. husbands, fathers, and brothers, are all ruthlessly excluded from within its sacred precincts. it furnishes an admirable center for shopping operations, and for lunches, teas, etc. it possesses the advantages of bedrooms, let at the most reasonable rate, so that girls and young married women can spend a night or two in town without any trouble to chaperons or maids. women friends, of course, may be admitted into the club, and servants and tradespeople interviewed. it is named for the princess of wales, and no one who has not been presented to the queen is eligible to membership. there is also a ladies' suburban club in chicago that partakes of the same features, save that it is not founded upon quite so aristocratic a basis, and the suburban woman heartily appreciates its benefits. no more does she wander aimlessly up and down the streets while awaiting a home-bound train. she has a resting place of her own within easy reach of the shopping district, one where she can be made presentable for matinée or theater. here, on one floor, she finds hairdressers, manicurists, a café, a woman ready to repair damaged garments; and should she miss the last train, comfortable sleeping-rooms, where she can spend the night quietly. there, the club-shopper is ready to attend sales and do all manner of purchasing--from ordering funeral flowers to selecting a good seat at the theater, while the club nursery is responsible for all children left there. their membership hails from many states. presiding at a woman's club. the average woman is not so well qualified to preside over meetings in which continual interruptions are occurring, through the members rising to points of order, and other questions of privilege, because, unlike the average man, she has not given much attention to the study of parliamentary law. the rules for conducting a meeting do not admit of any personal feeling or individual taste on the part of the presiding officer. on the contrary, there is a code of rules expressly laid down to guide and regulate such matters. the presiding officer is not supposed to control the opinions of the members, but merely to direct them. she should be in entire sympathy with the objects of the meeting, and have a full and complete understanding of all its aims, objects and purposes. this latter is a very important consideration. members, and especially new ones, are constantly asking for information, and unless the presiding officer can furnish it briefly and at once, delays are sure to occur, and the meeting be anything but pleasant or satisfactory to the other members present. order of business. having been chosen to preside, the first duty is to call the meeting to order. if it is a first meeting, the objects for which it is called should then be stated clearly, but in as few words as possible. if it is not a first meeting, but a regular or constituted one, the presiding officer should have the roll of members called by the secretary. the minutes of the last meeting should then be read. next, the presiding officer should appoint her committees for the session; or, if it is a regular meeting, the reports of the various committees appointed at the previous session should be heard. next, the regular business should be taken up, and having been disposed of, the presiding officer should allow the introduction of any new business that may properly come before the meeting. it is of the utmost importance that a presiding officer should be possessed of good eyesight, so as to be able to perceive a member as soon as she rises. there must be no hesitation or nervousness about a presiding officer. she must be ever on the alert, with all her faculties about her. she must be broad-minded, liberal, and clear-visioned, with a readiness to instruct the members when any mistakes are made, and always willing to grant the full liberty of debate to all; for out of the widest differences will come the very best conclusions after full and fair discussion. society [illustration] women are our only leisure class. this has been so often repeated that it scarcely matters to whom the credit of the saying must be given. in this country the burden of social work rests upon women, while in all european countries, men, young and old, statesmen, officials, princes, ambassadors, make it one of the duties of life to visit, leave cards and take up all the numerous burdens of the social world. here it is the lady of the house that does all this. husbands, fathers, sons, are all too much engrossed in the pursuit of business or pleasure to spend time in these multifarious cares. mrs. john sherwood says: "they cannot even spend time to make their dinner calls. 'mamma, please leave my cards,' is the legend written on their banners." influence of women. the wonderful influence of women of culture and fashion, with their "happy ways of doing things" in the political, as well as the social world, is as great now in washington as it ever was in paris, in the palmiest days of the imperial _salon_. the graces and the courtesies of life are in their hands. it is women who create society. it is women from whom etiquette is learned, not from association with men. the height of a stage of civilization can always be measured by the amount of deference paid to woman. the culture of a particular man can be gauged by his manner when in the company of ladies. primitive man made women do all the hard work of life, bear all the burdens, eat of the leavings, and be the servants of the tribe. civilized man, on the other hand, gives precedence to woman in every particular. he serves her first, he gives her places of comfort and safety, he rises to assist her at every opportunity, and we measure his culture by sins of omission, or commission, along this line. thus, all these small observances not only conduce to the comfort of woman, but they refine and do away with the rough and selfish side of man's nature, for without this refining contact with gentle womanhood, a man will never lose the innate roughness with which nature has endowed him. it is women, as before said, who create etiquette, and burke tells us that "manners are of more importance than laws." a fine manner is the "open sesame" that admits us to the audience chamber of the world. it is the magic wand at whose touch all barriers dissolve. effect of cultured manners. "give a boy address and accomplishments and you give him the mastery of palaces and fortunes wherever he goes. he has not the trouble of earning or owning them; they solicit him to enter and possess." whatever enjoyment we obtain from our daily intercourse with others is through our obedience to the laws of etiquette, which govern the whole machinery of society, and it is largely to women with their leisure, and their tact, that we must look to create and sustain the social fabric. "to know her is a liberal education," was the stately compliment once paid a woman, and there are women left to whom it still applies. as emerson says in his essay upon "manners:" "are there not women who inspire us with courtesy; who unloose our tongues, and we speak; who anoint our eyes, and we see? we say things we never thought to have said. for once, our walls of habitual reserve vanished and left us at large; we were children playing with children in a wide field of flowers. steep us, we cried, in these influences for days, for weeks, and we shall be sunny poets and write out in many colored words the romance that you are." the successful society woman has a genius for leadership. she molds and makes what she will of her surroundings. she undervalues the talents of no one; she rather draws out and makes the most of every one with whom she comes in contact. she is quiet, she is reposeful, she has the tact that puts every one with whom she meets at ease, and, above all, she is sympathetic. a judiciously expressed sympathy with our fellow-beings is one of the highest attributes of our nature. "unite sympathy to observation and the dead spring to life." it is tact to so express that sympathy as not to seem aware of the weakness that we would support and conceal from others. madame récamier had this gift of hidden sympathy, this power of drawing out the best that was in those who approached her. to this gift it was that she owed that power over all men which survived her wonderful beauty. a sympathetic nature. it was not her wit, for with this she was not so greatly endowed; it was not alone her beauty, for the eminent men and women of the day followed her when, blind and poor, she sought the solitude of the abbey; but it was the delicate tendrils of her sympathy and the steadfastness of her friendship that drew towards her all hearts, and molded and welded her company of followers into one of the most perfect and powerful social circles that has ever surrounded any society leader. many an awkward situation has been saved by feminine tact. there was the cabinet-member's wife who drank out of her finger-bowl because her guest, a senator, had done so. and the general's wife who, when a clumsy tea drinker smashed a priceless cup, picked up another of the fragile affairs and crushed it between her fingers with a "they do break easily, don't they?" and the woman who, when m. blanc was mistaken at an english garden party for a page, replied, "well, m. blanc is a page--of history." this tact is in great measure a natural gift, but it can be cultivated, and is well worth the trouble. nothing can be so utterly painful in society as the tactless person who is perpetually "doing those things which he ought not to have done, and leaving undone those things which he ought to have done." the art of conversation, too, is worth cultivating. a woman, noted among her friends for her delightful letters and as delightful gifts of conversation, was asked how she managed it. "frankly," was the reply, "i strive for it. when i see in a book or hear anywhere a happy phrase, or a telling sentence, i make a mental note of it, and watch for an opportunity to incorporate it in my own speech or written word. i don't mean i appropriate other folks' ideas in wholesale fashion, but i do steal or utilize their knack of expression. another point i make is never to permit myself to speak carelessly, that is, slovenly, any more than i let my hair be untidy or my gowns mud-stained. it does not seem to me frivolous or bestowing too much care on trifles to take this small pains for my betterment. i pin a flower on my dress for a bit of color, or adjust a bow where i know it is becoming; why should i not apply the decorative idea to my speech?" power through repose. cultivate repose of manner. be calm and restful. do not fidget. command of the tongue is a valuable accomplishment to cultivate. many a young girl is actually fidgety, because she thinks to be a success she must be "full of life" and always "on the go." she wants to be bright and vivacious. if such is her temperament and her vivaciousness comes spontaneously it is perhaps attractive, though it is very likely to get tiresome. nine out of ten women would be twice as attractive if they would learn to keep still and thus gain the full social value of this ability. especially is this true of young girls. when a young man is introduced, why plunge at him with a volley of phrases? an effect is made twice as quickly if his look is met with steady, quiet eyes, a few words spoken in a gentle, sincere voice, and a chance given him. presumably, he requested the introduction, and so, probably, he has something to say. anyway, he is likely to have, if you are serene and quiet. a habit of repose will save from many a blunder. when a man, one does not remember, plunges into a conversation, the habit of repose enables one to keep an unmoved and quiet demeanor until something is said that will "place" him. to be in a hurry to speak is to betray oneself, and embarrassment ensues on both sides. this command of quiet is also a protection against tiresome, talkative, people. it enables one to preserve an air of kindly attention, while one's thoughts, free and untrammeled, roam at their own sweet will, drifting back just in time to utter an appreciative affirmative, or negative. a good listener. this repose of manner is a boon to the shy and awkward man, who, under its influence, actually acquires some confidence in himself, which is simply impossible when he is bombarded with a volley of vivacious conversation. learn to be a good listener, a sympathetic and interested listener, and the majority of people will pronounce you "interesting." if the partner assigned you at a dinner party seems to have no topic in common with your thought, strive to find out what does interest him; a few skillful questions, and he is launched on a tide of talk, at his ease, even brilliant, and all that is needed on your part is to appear interested. whether you understand the subject, or care for it, is another question; you have established your place in that man's estimation, and he will ever thereafter have a word of praise when your name is mentioned. there are women who are themselves not fluent, and who enjoy being talked to, to be spared the trouble of "making conversation." with these women it is the ready talker who finds favor. but there is another class of women quite as large who love to talk, and to them the good listener is welcome; therefore, let the man who wishes to talk choose his audience with discretion. madame récamier liked to be talked to, and was so sympathetic a listener that the careful student of her times is forced to conclude that was one of the chiefest of her charms, but he would have been a bold man who would have interrupted the flow of madame de staël's eloquence. men are less inclined to certain forms of etiquette than women. not that they would be less polite, but, as a rule, they do not attach so much importance to the little niceties of life, and they are too prone to lack in certain courtesies which a society man should practice. how men are spoiled. this process of spoiling begins with the mothers, and ends with the young women. women pride themselves upon being independent, and the result is that the men naturally fall back and let them wait upon themselves. women take the lead, women plan entertainments and excursions, women tolerate neglect, and all of this spoils the men. be a woman first and last, and exact all these little courtesies for the sake of your sex. says a well-known lady: "i remember a thing that impressed me very much, and made me ashamed of my own sons whom i have always waited upon, i am sorry to say. we had as guests a gentleman, wife and son, the latter about thirteen. in the morning there was a parade; the gentleman and his wife went, while i stayed at home with another relative. the boys came in to luncheon, and then as i was going up-town, harry, our visitor, put up his wheel, brushed his clothes, and announced that he was ready to escort me. i assured him that we did not need him, to run along with the other boys, but he would not hear of it. he opened the gates, carried my umbrella, and stayed with me until he saw me safe at home. i complimented him to his mother, but she assured me that he would never have thought of doing anything else, for when the father could not accompany her, harry had been taught to do so. i had always assured my boys that i could take care of myself, but i wish now i had made them take care of me." general etiquette. [illustration] this chapter is devoted to the gathering up of the fragments that remain from all the other departments that cannot be rigidly classified, and yet are useful to remember. there are many minute points of etiquette which, although not extremely important, often serve as a source of embarrassment to uninitiated persons, and upon which information that can be relied upon is desired. who bows first? whether the lady or gentleman should bow first is a point where many differ. that the lady should bow first, most authorities agree in declaring. this acts as a safeguard to a lady, permitting her to drop an undesirable acquaintance, as a failure to bow would be considered the "cut direct." but some ladies are forgetful of faces, and some are near-sighted, thus preventing ready recognition of others; so that, while this custom might apply to introductions given at a ball, still, a bow hurts no one, and an undesirable acquaintance is easily dropped without this rudeness. hence it would seem that, whichever one recognizes first, the other ought to have the privilege of bowing without breaking this social law, which is better observed in the spirit than in the letter. "lady" or "gentleman?" these terms have come to be used so continuously, and sometimes so meaninglessly that they bid fair to crowd out the sweet, strong words, "man" and "woman," and a revulsion of taste has swept in that goes nigh in some "sets" to utterly swamp the "lady" and "gentleman." either extreme is a mistake. there is a right and wrong use of these terms; for example, one says to one's servants, or to one's children, "i expect some ladies to visit me to-morrow," while later, referring to them in conversation with a friend, one may say, "they are women of exquisite culture." a matron may speak of young ladies as "girls," but if she be not intimate, "young ladies," is more usual, or she may address them collectively as "young women." misuse of the term "lady." the term "lady" has been more abused than that of "gentleman." the words "fore-lady," "sales-lady," "wash-lady," have rendered it ludicrous when one thinks of contrasting it with the terms, happily never used, of "fore-gentleman," "sales-gentleman," etc. formal consideration asks "if the ladies are at home," and refined custom requires it. but to express the graces and endowments of a woman, it is her womanliness that is emphasized. "she is a gracious, sweet-tempered, kindly woman." the same distinction applies to the use of the term "gentleman," or "man." says one writer, giving some examples of the use of these words: "a polite host would say, 'the men are looking for some ladies who would enjoy a game of tennis,' or, 'i can promise the young ladies a pleasant time, for there will be a great many dancing men present.' one gentleman says to another, in expressing his admiration, miss blank is my ideal of a lovely and lovable woman' (he does not say 'lady'), but in the same breath he may add, 'let us join the ladies (not 'women') on the balcony.'" one should always say "she is such a sweet old lady," rather than "she is such a sweet old woman." much might be said in this regard, but after all, exact discrimination of the proper term at the proper time must be left somewhat to the personal judgment of each man and woman. the leading business and professional men owe their success, in great measure, to their graciousness in business manners. it is well, from many points of view, to form the habit of treating all, rich and poor, men and women, with uniform courtesy. the pleasant business man draws the largest custom. the polite professional man secures the best clientage. pay bills and drafts promptly, or else explain satisfactorily to your creditor when you will be able to meet the obligation. if your word has always been as good as your bond, in nine cases out of ten he will grant the extension of time desired. keep appointments to the moment. if unable to do so, send a messenger to explain. finish your business promptly and then leave. time is money. never misrepresent goods, nor allow others in your employ so to do. enclose a stamped envelope for reply when asking for information that is to benefit yourself solely. answer letters of inquiry promptly. do not display curiosity in regard to business matters that do not concern you, nor try to examine the books or private papers of another. be polite to all employés. they will give much better service. business forms are always useful, hence we furnish some that are in constant use: a promissory note. $ . chicago, ill., november , -. ninety days after date i promise to pay to charles chapman, or order, at the second national bank, three hundred dollars, value received. martin voorhees. if it is intended to draw interest that should be added, thus, "with interest at six per cent." a joint note. $ . salida, col., december , -. three months after date we jointly promise to pay howard crosby, or order, two hundred dollars, value received. grace harding. george harding. a receipt on account. $ . san mateo, cal., november , -. received of george woods, five hundred dollars, on account. frank james. a receipt in full. $ . louisiana, mo., october , -. received of john jenkins, two hundred dollars, in full for all demands up to date. james higgins. form for a bill. new york, december , -. mr. john henson. to james carroll, dr. to pounds coffee, @ c $ . to pounds sugar, @ c . to pounds lard, @ c . to pound tea, @ c . ----- $ . what and what not to say. don't say "i feel good," for "i feel well." don't say "these kind," but "this kind." don't say "not so good as," for "not as good as." don't say "between three," but "among three." don't describe an unusual occurrence as "funny," unless something comic is meant. strange, peculiar, unique, odd, are better expressions. don't say a garment "sets good," but it "fits well." don't say "had rather," "had better," for "would rather," "would better." don't speak of articles of diet as "healthy," but as "healthful" or "wholesome." don't say "fix my gown," "fix this room," but "arrange my gown," "the room." the best authorities rarely use fix, except to indicate stability or permanence. you don't fix the house, you repair it. say money is "plentiful," not "plenty." say "between you and me." say "if he should live," "if he should come," instead of "if he comes," "if he live." don't say "i have saw" for "i have seen." don't say "dress;" if a lady, say "gown." the word dress applies to the entire toilet. gown, to the one article. various hints on etiquette. enter a room as if you felt yourself entitled to a welcome, but wished to take no undue advantage of it. do not press a favor where you see it will be unwelcome. treat all the guests you meet at your friend's table, for the time being, as your equals. a very trifling and yet important thing that every woman should know is that it is exceedingly inelegant in rising from a chair to raise herself by pressure on the arms. unless she is old or infirm she should rise without assistance. do not rush into a friendship with everybody you meet. friendships so quickly made are quickly broken. in another man's house do not take upon yourself to play the host--not even at the host's request. in making gifts let them be in proportion to your means. a rich man does not thank a poor man for making him a present which he knows the giver cannot afford. do not claim the acquaintance of a man of rank on the ground that you once met him at a house to which you had been invited. let it be said of you as it was said of macaulay, that he remembered everything, "except an injury." in making calls, do your best to lighten the infliction to your hostess. do not stay long; and do not enter upon a subject of conversation which may terrify her with the apprehension that you intend to remain until you have exhausted it. do not give another, even if it be a better, version of a story already told by one of your companions. the touchstone of good manners is the way in which a man behaves to his superiors or inferiors. it is not proper for a gentleman to call upon a lady unless he has first received permission to do so. it is not proper for a gentleman to wear his overshoes in the drawing-room. [illustration: a morning walk.] children or young people should never monopolize the most desirable positions and most comfortable chairs. no gentleman will smoke while walking, riding or driving with a lady, or while speaking to her in the street. sometimes, at informal summer resorts, there is a little latitude allowed here. if a dinner party is given in honor of a lady, it is the host's place to go in to dinner first, taking in the lady in whose honor the dinner is given. furthermore, it is proper, under some circumstances, for the hostess to go in to dinner last with the husband of the lady whom the host is escorting. it is proper to help all the ladies, including those of the household, before any gentleman is helped, no matter how distinguished a person he may be. first attentions for ladies. when the visitors are gentlemen, and only a mother and daughter are at the table, the maid ought first to serve the mother, then the daughter and last the gentlemen. if the mother serves tea at luncheon she helps the daughter first, and after her the men guests. the rule is always that a lady takes precedence. on leaving the table at a public place, such as a restaurant or hotel dining-room, the lady precedes the gentleman. apples are pared, and eaten in small quarters, at dessert. grapes are plucked from their stems, and the pulp squeezed out in the mouth, while the fingers hold the skins, which are laid at one side of the plate. bananas are peeled, cut in thin slices, and eaten with a fork. peaches are eaten after paring, with a silver knife and fork. oranges are skinned by cutting in quarters, or left whole, and the sections are then pulled apart, and eaten, rejecting the seeds into the hand. celery is usually dipped into the salt-cellar, and eaten from the stalk, or it can be cut on the plate, in small bits, and eaten with a fork. when dining at a hotel you can partake of the side dishes on the same plate that meat and potato have been served, or ask the waiter to change your plate, as you prefer. when fried eggs are used for a breakfast dish, they are put upon your plate, from the side dish; but in many homes, eggs are baked in small dishes, each person being served with a dish, which should be well buttered before putting in the egg to be cooked. it does not matter upon which side of her escort a lady sits at table. the gentleman will draw out a chair for the lady, if a waiter is not in attendance to do it, and take the next seat himself. when passing your plate to be helped a second time, lay the knife and fork at the left-hand side. do not, if talking to a friend, drop all conversation so soon as a child requires attention, or has some childish remark to make. when in parlor, or drawing-room, if a woman, standing, hands a cup, a book, a flower, or any article to a man who is seated, he should rise to receive it. this rule is without exception. minor usages of the best society. when a man offers a lady any civility, a stranger or an acquaintance, opens a door, hands her a parcel she has dropped, or offers her a seat, he should lift his hat at the same moment. if a young lady accepts the escort of a gentleman to an entertainment, she should never accompany him, at its close, to a restaurant for refreshments unless she is chaperoned by a lady much older than herself. "good-evening" is a proper salutation upon entering a room for a call. "good-night" upon retiring at its close. a man on horseback, who sees a lady wishes to stop him, will dismount and walk by her side, leading his horse, for there are few occasions on which it is permissible to stand talking on the street. a lady may permit a man walking with her to carry any small parcel that she has, but never more than one. a lady wishing to avoid bowing to an undesirable acquaintance, must look aside, or drop the eyes, for if the eyes meet a bow is absolutely necessary. if a lady asks a man to accompany her to a place of amusement, she must provide the conveyance. if a lady invites a man to drive with her, he should walk to her house, unless the distance is too great, when she should offer to call for him. if this is the case, he should watch, and, if possible, meet her on the way. do not refuse to accept an apology; even if friendship is not restored, an open quarrel will be averted. do not be familiar with a new acquaintance. one can be courteous without familiarity. breaches of etiquette. it is a breach of etiquette to remove the gloves when making a formal call. it is a breach of etiquette to stare around the room. it is a breach of etiquette for a caller who is waiting the entrance of the hostess to open the piano or touch it if it is open. it is a breach of etiquette to go to the room of an invalid unless invited. it is a breach of etiquette to look at your watch when calling. it is a breach of etiquette to walk around the room when waiting for the hostess. it is a breach of etiquette for the caller to open or shut a door, raise or lower a window curtain, or in any other way alter the arrangement of a room. it is a breach of etiquette to turn your chair so as to bring your back to some one near you. it is a breach of etiquette when making a call to play with any ornament in the room, or to seem to be aware of anything but the company present. it is a breach of etiquette to remain when you find the host or hostess dressed to go out. it is a breach of etiquette during a call to draw near the fire to warm your hands or feet, unless you are invited by the mistress of the house to do so. it is a breach of etiquette to make remarks upon a caller who has just left the room, whether by the hostess or visitors. it is a breach of etiquette and a positive unkindness to call upon a friend who is in reduced circumstances with any parade of wealth in equipage or dress. it is a breach of etiquette for the hostess to leave the room when visitors are present. it is a breach of etiquette to assume any ungraceful or uncouth position, such as standing with the arms akimbo, sitting astride a chair, smoking in the presence of ladies, wearing your hat, leaning back in the chair, standing with legs crossed or feet on the chairs, leaning forward in the chair with elbows on the knees. all these acts stamp you as ill-bred and unpolished. [illustration] washington etiquette [illustration] in addition to the ordinary rules of etiquette, official society in washington city is governed by a code of fixed laws. the social observances of the white house are prescribed with great exactness, and constitute the court etiquette of the republic. at the very commencement of the government under the constitution the social question became one of great magnitude, and in order to adjust it upon a proper basis, president washington caused a definite _code_ to be drawn up; but the rules were too arbitrary and exacting to give satisfaction, and society was not disposed to acknowledge so genuine an equality as the code required among its members. frequent and bitter quarrels arose in consequence of the clashing of social claims, and at last a code was agreed upon, which may be stated as follows: the recognized head. the president and his family are recognized as the head and front of the social structure. the president, as such, must not be invited to dinner by any one, and accepts no such invitations, and pays no calls or visits of ceremony. he may visit in his private capacity at pleasure. an invitation to dine at the white house takes precedence of all others, and a previous engagement must not be pleaded as an excuse for declining it. such an invitation must be promptly accepted in writing. during the winter season, a public reception or levee is held at stated times, at which guests are expected to appear in full dress. they are presented by the usher to the president, and have the honor of shaking hands with him. they then pass on, and are presented by another usher to the wife of the president, to whom they bow, and pass on. these receptions last from eight until ten o'clock p.m. on the first of january and the fourth of july the president holds public receptions, commencing at noon, at which the foreign ministers present in washington appear in full court dress, and the officers of the army and navy in full uniform. on such occasions, the president receives first the heads of departments, governors of states, justices of the supreme court and members of the two houses of congress, in the order named; then the members of the diplomatic corps, who are followed by the officers of the army and navy. the doors are then thrown open to the general public, who for the space of two hours pay their respects to the chief magistrate of the nation. the vice-president of the united states is expected to pay a formal visit to the president on the meeting of congress, but he is entitled to the first visit from all other persons, which he may return by card or in person. formal calls. the judges of the supreme court of the united states call upon the president and vice-president on the annual meeting of the court in december, and on new year's day and the fourth of july. they are entitled to the first call from all other persons. members of the cabinet call upon the president on the first of january and the fourth of july. they are required to pay the first calls, either in person or by card, to the vice-president, the judges of the supreme court, senators and the speaker of the house of representatives on the meeting of congress. they are entitled to the first call from all other persons. senators call in person upon the president and vice-president on the meeting of congress, new year's day and the fourth of july, if congress is in session at the last named time. they also call first upon the judges of the supreme court, and upon the speaker of the house of representatives on the meeting of congress. they are entitled to the first call from all other persons. the speaker of the house of representatives calls upon the president on the meeting of congress, on new year's day, and on the fourth of july, if congress is in session. the first call is due _from_ him to the vice-president and the judges of the supreme court, but _to_ him from all other persons. members of the house of representatives call in person upon the president on the meeting of congress, and on new year's day, and by card or in person on the fourth of july, if congress is in session. they call first, by card or in person, upon the vice-president, the judges of the supreme court, speaker of the house, senators, cabinet officers and foreign ministers, soon after the opening of the session. ministers from foreign countries. foreign ministers call upon the president on the first of january and the fourth of july. they call first, in person or by card, upon the vice-president, cabinet officers, judges of the supreme court and the speaker of the house on the first opportunity after presenting their credentials to the president. they also make an annual call of ceremony, by card or in person, on the above mentioned officials soon after the meeting of congress. they are entitled to the first calls from all other persons. the judges of the court of claims call in person upon the president on new year's day and the fourth of july. they pay first calls to cabinet officers and members of the diplomatic corps, and call annually, by card or in person, upon the vice-president, judges of the supreme court, senators, speaker and members of the house soon after the meeting of congress. the intercourse of the other officers of the government is regulated by superiority of rank in the public service. the intercourse of the families of officials is regulated by the rules which govern the officials themselves. besides the public levees of the president, the ladies of the white house hold receptions at stated periods, to which invitations are regularly issued. the president sometimes appears upon these occasions, but is under no obligation to do so. it has long been the custom for the president to give a series of state dinners during the session of congress, to which the various members of that body, the higher government officials and the diplomatic corps are successively invited. in order to show attention to all, and offend none, it is necessary to give quite a number of these dinners during the session. [the proper titles to be used in addressing the president, members of the cabinet, members of congress, judges of the supreme court and other government officials, are found in the department on "letter-writing."] [illustration] delsartean discipline [illustration] "the end and aim of all our work should be the harmonious growth of our whole being," says fröebel. "know thyself," quoth epictetus, the stoic, and, knowing thyself, grow strong of mind, self-centered and self-possessed. "know thyself," reiterates the modern disciple of delsarte, since only by knowledge of self can be developed the real personality of the individual. grace and self-possession are the aim of delsarte; it therefore fairly falls within the province of a work on etiquette to look somewhat into the subject. if one would control others he must first control himself, possess himself. delsarte looked upon the nature of man as a trinity, and believed that the mental, moral and physical should be educated at the same time. modern education tends to develop man in special directions to the neglect of others. either the overstrained mental faculties revenge themselves by giving us the nervous, broken-down, mental type so common; or else we have the crude physical type wherein ordinary labor has exercised but a few muscles and joints. the three languages. again, says delsarte, "man has for the expression of his triune nature three languages, the word, the tone, the gesture. tones express bodily conditions, pleasure or pain. words are symbols to interpret thought. gestures relate to other beings and express our emotions. of these three, the first receives undue cultivation, since we study all the words that have been said or written, while singers and actors alone cultivate tone or gesture." thus it comes that "the soul struggles to speak through an imperfect instrument; sometimes it ceases to struggle and finally has nothing to say." in labor the man _moves_, special muscles do special work, but when a man is _moved_, an undulating "wave of feeling passes over him and his whole body becomes eloquent." a bow may be so careless and jerky as to be almost an insult, or it may be so gracious as to seem a caress. again, the real self, gracious and beautiful, may strive to express itself through a set of faculties that are hardened and narrowed by decades of self-constraint on the part of himself and his ancestors. "physical habits have a way of making themselves felt by a reflex action on the inner nature," and with this axiom in view we feel that cultivation of the delsartean art of expression becomes a vital part of our education to the end that all our emotions and all our tones may become "the outward and visible signs of an inward and spiritual nature." this principle may be called the keynote of delsarteanism, and edmond russell, that modern exponent thereof, claims that as these beautiful, expressive gymnastics are for the purpose of correcting individual deviations from grace, no regular set of rules should be printed for the use of all, but that each special angularity of person or harshness of tone must be corrected by special exercises. harmonious development of the body. nevertheless, there are many set forms of movements by the practice of which none can fail to derive benefit both for the inner and the outer man. other physical gymnastics seek to give strength to certain sets of muscles to the neglect of others. the rythmical movements of the delsarte system bring into action each muscle of the body without wearying any, to the harmonious developing of all, since in all, save exceptional cases, it will be found, upon beginning this treatment, that more than half the muscles of the body are unused, while the other, and overworked half, move in stiff and angular fashion. all students will discover it is first requisite that an "undoing process" shall precede the "upbuilding process." stiffness of joint, or tension of muscles, whether recognized or not, must first be done away with before "the body can be molded to the expression of high thought." for this purpose the "decomposing," "relaxing" or "devitalizing" motions are given. the old gymnast doubled up the fist and, with great tension, gave a blow which jarred the whole nervous system. the "freeing" motions of delsarte give harmonious, restful, wave movements to all portions of the anatomy. graceful motions are never in the nature of a blow struck straight from the shoulder, but curves and spirals constitute the lines of beauty. nature shows us this in the free untrammelled motions of a child, or again in man, when his whole nature is so stirred to its best and sweetest depths that he is carried out of his usual tense, conscious self into unconscious rythmic expression of his feeling. what nature does for us in times of great excitement delsarte will do for us at all times by means of his exercises, practiced until the conscious mechanical motion becomes unconscious, automatic, and the body grows responsive to all high emotions and impulses. relaxing the muscles. in relaxing movements, the whole arm and hand, shoulder, elbow, wrist, fingers, are shaken until the joints are completely relaxed and a warm, tingling sensation passes through the entire arm. it is then dropped at the side in perfect passivity. the result is twofold--a feeling of repose and controlling power, and an absence of that nervous tendency to "fidget," or handle something, glove buttons, or watch chain, without which a morning call can scarcely be accomplished by either hostess or guest. this alone will give us a sense of perfect rest which we have never before experienced. similar exercises are given for other portions of the body--legs and feet--a revolving of the head to limber the neck; a revolution of the shoulders and the body to gain that flexibility which is the secret of grace. delsartean exercises break up constrained awkward physical habits, establish in their stead restful, graceful, natural ones. of these there are many classes. the delsarte relaxing exercises precede and prepare the way for all others. in their restful removal of nerve-tension they appeal especially to the overworked, nervous class. the delsarte sleep exercises are useful in overcoming insomnia. the delsarte laws of expression give us a key to character, study, and the laws that underlie all art. the delsarte work develops self-possession. the delsarte rythmical exercises enable one not only to appear better and feel better, but, by a reflex action, to be better. in this physical work the first object is an entire, absolute letting go of all unnecessary tension, all tension that has overstrained the muscles through an excess of effort in our daily life, though many times this effort is purely unconscious on the part of the individual. "how many a patient, trusting soul do we see with the muscles of the forehead strained and elevated until the eyebrows never fall to their normal height," or the brows are contracted until the hard lines graven between the eyes ever bespeak either pain or care. the founders of the benedictine nuns caught some echo of this truth when, by a rule of their order, no sister among them is permitted to wear a frown upon her brow. and the placid-faced sisterhood evidence in their sweet expressions the close relation between the exoteric and esoteric of our natures; the reflex action between the physical and the spiritual entities of our being. art of breathing. there are a few general points that may be given here to the improvement of many little habits that unconsciously enslave us and to the "letting go" of the "officious personal endeavor" that we make, as it were, to hold ourselves together--never believing that nature is more capable of the task. after the decomposing exercises comes the practice of one of the first delsartean axioms: "control at the center, freedom at the extremities." without this control the newly acquired flexibility will be weak and affected. to obtain this control the art of breathing must first be acquired. to do this properly the chest should be inflated and thrown forward by the action of the diaphragm and held as the most prominent part of the body; a position too often usurped by the inferior abdomen. the same motion which throws out the chest should draw in the lower part of the trunk, hanging it from the curve of the spine. in the proper attitude for good breathing the hips turn slightly inward and the chin goes back, but not up. there should be no effort to throw back the shoulders. take care of the chest, and the shoulders will take care of themselves. position of the shoulders. mrs. edmond russell says she would "like to make a call that would reach every man and woman in the country. 'lift up your shoulders.' when one says this nine-tenths of them stiffen at the neck, throw themselves backward and project the body below the waist, the whole figure out of line. no, you should get the poise of a greek goddess." lift the chest, with the shoulders down, until it is on a line with the toes. this throws the extension on the center of the body where it should be. the heart and lungs now have full play. close the lips; draw in the air through the nostrils, using the muscles below the diaphragm as a bellows, until the pressure against the ribs has a bursting sensation. keep this tension firmly and steadily as long as you can; then slowly and gradually let the breath out through the lips. if you wish to sing, or recite, or even to talk, see what power is at your command. "try this breathing, inspiration, retention, expiration--these three movements--at night before you go to bed, when the body is free; in the morning before you dress. when you walk take in great, glorious lungsful of air until full, or deep breathing becomes a habit. believe me, breathing properly is a certain cure for nervousness, shyness and embarrassment." it gives command and freedom of motion, a sense of power. keep the lips closed and breathe only through the nostrils. this is a most important fact to remember, and should always be impressed upon children. the cold air should never be taken directly into the lungs as is the case when it is inhaled through the parted lips. children, as well as grown people, should learn to keep the mouth closed during sleep; this would prevent many lung diseases, the disagreeable habit of snoring, and the vacant, inane expression produced by an open mouth. there is no better exercise to acquire a good habit of breathing than reading aloud. try how much can be read easily, without strain, upon a single inflation of the lungs. never gasp, catch up, or piece out a breath. "you may add years to your life by the simple act of breathing." every public speaker knows, or should know, the feeling of repose and self-possession that comes over him as he calmly, silently, faces his audience long enough to draw three of these deep, full breaths. nervousness has vanished; he and his audience have had time to become acquainted, and, having command over himself, he is able to command the minds of those before him. standing and walking. when one has learned to breathe properly, then it is that standing and walking may be practiced. lift up the chest, inflate the lungs naturally, as in paragraph on breathing, then step up to the front of a door, letting the toes touch the woodwork. at the same time the forehead should meet the upper portion of the door, when it may be assumed that a perfect standing posture has been taken. the poise will seem at first to be a little forward of a straight line, but to disprove this it will be found that a plumb line dropped from the ear will fall through shoulder, hip and ankle. the head will be poised as if to carry a burden steadily on the crown and the weight of the body will rest on the ball of the foot, not the heel. this position may seem insecure at first, as well as stiff and self-conscious. with some this sensation will wear off sooner than with others, according to their adaptability, and the result will be assured power for long, graceful, strengthening walks. in walking, a common fault is to let the knees bend continuously; this gives a "flabbyness" to the whole personal expression, that always seems an outward exponent of a "weak-kneed" character. the knees, to obviate this, should be stiffened when walking. in the other extreme, most women stiffen the ankle-joint unduly, thus giving a straight up and down cramped walk, which is accompanied by coming down with all force upon the heel, thereby producing a jar throughout the entire nervous system, as well as an awkward locomotion. in this way all benefit of the strong, natural spring of the instep, which tends to lessen this jar and give grace and springiness to the step is lost, and much weariness of the flesh is the result. mrs. russell says: "we have a system of levers to do our walking with, and they act precisely as do all levers. one leg is a lever to pry the body over the other leg, and the latter becomes a pendulum and swings back by force of gravity. when you walk three miles and feel as if you could walk ten, you are walking that way. when you are tired out, you are taking irregular steps and walking on your heels. "in walking the foot should be used as an elastic arch, the ball striking the ground first, not the heel. trying to step too far is productive of awkwardness. hurrying is another cause. it is bad walking to lift up your foot and put it down. if the sole of the foot shows at all, it should be from the rear. what is wanting is elasticity. swinging the arms in walking, which is universal, is absolutely unnecessary, and purely a waste of strength. let them hang pendulum fashion." stair-climbing. "trained stair-climbers should be the healthiest as well as the most beautiful of women, yet," says mrs. russell, "a town of stairs given, and i will prophesy thin, eye-circled, cross-looking women." all of this is to be laid to the fact that most women climb stairs in the hardest and most awkward manner. "in going upstairs there should be no waddling from side to side, no trudging, no leaning forward, and no apparent weariness. the body should remain erect, the step should be taken with the ball of the foot, and the movement to the next step be made with a springing motion. this produces a graceful, poetic elevation instead of a cumbersome hauling of the body upward, and throws all of the strain upon the strong muscles of the calf of the leg. this slightly accented springing from step to step leads the true system of pacing on level ground; hence, the stairway may be made the walker's gymnasium." art of "letting go." "relax, relax," says edmond russell. "let go the tense hold of your arms that is wearing out your vitality. you will get rest by doing this. sleepless people will fall asleep. stop holding yourself in a knot and relax. hold up the chest, breathe slowly and deeply through the nose, and relax the extremities." "try letting go," says mrs. russell; "it is a great rest. you can let yourself go for a few moments in the theater, in a crowd, in church, in the street car, anywhere. it is the universal habit to hold on to one's self with a grip that would almost lift one's weight, muscles tightened, nerves strained to no purpose. the mind is too eager and fast for the body. the result is exhaustion." "how shall it be avoided? take the will out of the body when it is not in action. in walking, let the lower limbs do the work; the arms have nothing to do: let them be carried as attachments, pendulums if you will, but at rest." let the hands fall easily when sitting in carriage, street car, or drawing-room. on corset wearing. the wearing of corsets meets the strong disapproval of all delsarteans, as "control of the breath underlies gesture, walk and voice," and a tightened corset-lace necessarily cramps the breathing power. the tight, high collar is also objectionable for the same reason. an english writer justly observes that "all the greater harmonies and higher courtesies of life must extend over the whole body." now, in great emotions the chest expands, and especially the lower part where the ribs are freest and intended to expand most, and this part it is that tight corsets most compress to attain the artificial waist. the figure, trying to accommodate itself to the new conditions becomes deteriorated in all directions. the back grows rounded, the ribs fall in, and the stomach obtrudes itself unduly; all this to the injury of health and of harmonious beauty of form. mr. russell also asserts that a forced compression of the waist damages the power of the figure as an instrument for the expression of emotions, the result of all this being an unfavorable reaction upon the mind and character of the unfortunate victims. one of his maxims is: "a beautiful woman is at her lowest plane in a tight-fitting dress; an ugly woman on her highest in drapery!" general remarks. educated men and women of to-day study social, domestic and political economy, forgetting that vital economy that delsarte teaches is more essential to our interests and the interests of our descendants. "relax, relax, relax!" one is tempted to cry in unison with edmond russell. give us what there is in you. make yourself "a being whose body is the exponent of the soul responsive to every command of the spirit." cease limping through life on high-heeled shoes. cease lifting the shoulders, fidgeting the hands, painfully raising the eyebrows, and contorting the face into a meaningless smile. remember that all facial contortions leave indelible traces in their wake. the laugh, or broad smile that half closes, or squints the eyes, engraves those fine ray-like, much-dreaded lines about the eye, known as crow's feet. remember that "laughter ages the face more than tears." smile more often with the eyes. let them light up and laugh for you. trust me, in most cases a vast improvement will result, since scarcely any adult laughs well, and if there is some trait of affectation, frivolity, cruelty, or even coarseness in the character, uncontrolled laughter will be the sure exponent thereof. rest more. do not try to accomplish too many things at once. do not let your thoughts be weeks or days ahead of you and the task in hand. this would be imposing double duty upon the already strained physique. if the body is at one store, do not let the mind fly off to shop in half a dozen other stores to snatch "bargains" from the hands of other over-burdened ones. straighten out the frowns on your strained brows. cease carrying numberless loose packages, and loads of heavy skirts in your hands, and struggling with the well-dressed mob to secure coveted bargains. they are dearly bought at the loss of beauty, youth and repose. one such day ages the face. if you do not believe it, ye dwellers in cities, go stand before your mirror next time you reach home, dusty, rasped, fragmentary, weary from a day of counter-shoving, neither mistress of yourself nor those about you, and the face that meets your gaze will tell its own story. rightly does herbert spencer say, "we have had something too much of the gospel of work, it is time to preach the gospel of relaxation." and this chapter will have reached its aim if it shall be the means of inducing any to become disciples of delsarte, restful converts of this gospel of relaxation, which is one with the gospel of beauty. [illustration] art of dress [illustration] "dress may be called the speech of the body," says mrs. haweis. a woman's dress should be so much the expression of herself that, seeing it, we think not of the gown, but of the woman who is its soul. the true art of dress is reached when it serves only to heighten the charms of the wearer, not to draw attention from her to center upon her garments. one writer on beauty in dress claims that "the object is threefold: to cover, to warm, to beautify," and in dealing with this latter point farther says that, "rather than to beautify, it is to emphasize beauty." to this statement should be added that its mission is also to minimize or do away with defects. most dressing is done to enhance the beauty of the face, but women should remember that the tint of the complexion, the color of hair and eyes, are but a small part of the _personnel_. the physique must be taken into account. the "type" is a fact fixed and inevitable, and the woman is wise who sets herself steadfastly to "develop and emphasize its beauties and overshadow and efface its defects." it is only by real study that a woman grows to understand and analyze her "type" and suit all accessories to her own personality; to adjust, as it were, her "relations." art, after all, is simply, as edmund russell admirably defines it, "relations, the right thing in the right place." study your own individuality and assert it in your dress. "no woman need be ugly if she knows her own points," and some points of attractiveness every woman has. lord chesterfield, that cynical man of the world, assures us that "no woman is ugly when she is well dressed." that is, dressed with reference to revealing good points and concealing weak ones. time spent in this study is gain, when one remembers in how many ways actual outward ugliness is an impediment. "the greater portion of ill-tempered, ugly women are ill-tempered simply because they believe themselves hopelessly ugly." a woman, finding her fairer friends constantly preferred despite her vain attempts to please, grows disheartened, then sarcastic, envious, ill-tempered, half unconsciously. "knowledge is power; beauty and knowledge combined are well-nigh all-powerful." stout and thin. texture, color and form must all be considered in relation to the personal appearance or "type." the beautiful in itself is not always a safe guide, but its beauty in relation to the wearer must be the test. fair, delicate, slender women make a great mistake when they over-weigh themselves with rich, heavy fabrics, no matter how beautiful these may be in themselves. instead, they should keep to clinging, draping materials, sheer lawns and shining silks. on the contrary, the very stout woman may wear all manner of rich gownings that fall in gracious massive folds. clad thus, her size will have about it a restful element of repose. let her beware of closely fitted gowns. these tend to enhance the size they are supposed to conceal. watteau or princess robes falling from the shoulder in unbroken lines render her imposing. little ruffles should be avoided, or frills of lace, and whatever drapery there be should fall from shoulder or hip; this gives long curving undulations that follow every movement. the stout woman should leave black satin severely alone; reflecting the light, it reveals form and size relentlessly. "revealed form is vulgar, suggested form poetic," says the high art of to-day, and who would not be poetic and gracious if she could? "if stout women," declares edmund russell, "would learn to move in grand, slow rhythm, and wear textures so heavy that the lines of their figures were concealed, they would have a grandeur and dignity that no slender woman could hope to attain." women must recognize their defects before they can hope to correct them. a tall, angular woman must adopt soft, fleecy materials, so made that they can float and curve about all ungraceful angles, hiding, or softening them. she of a deficient figure must never wear a plain, tightly fitting gown, unless it is relieved, and filled out with soft full vests, or veiled with falling folds of lace. there is only an occasional perfect form that will bear the merciless revelation of the plain, tight habit, and even then the suggestion of a concealing drapery heightens the beauty of the revealed curves. "all dress should be governed by shawl instead of glove rule," assert the latest canons of costume. tall or short. there are proportionately more women that are too short, than too tall. always a little sensitive to this defect, some try to increase their stature by high heels, which renders their gait awkward, besides being injurious to health. others endeavor to add to their apparent height by cultivating a long waist. this they do at the expense of shortening the lower limbs, thus making themselves seem shorter than they actually are. others strive to attain the same end by dressing the hair high, in this way too often adding to the apparent bulk of the head and giving a top-heavy appearance to the figure. it is here that a full-length glass becomes almost a necessity in the dressing-room, so that the entire effect of the figure may be observed at once, and defects of this nature detected at a glance. sometimes a high ornament worn at the top of the head apparently increases height, but beware of any bulky style. long lines of drapery from shoulder to foot give the effect of height. horizontal lines crossing the figure shorten the form. short, stout women, by wearing short basques that make a line about the hips, or ruffles and puffs at the shoulders, increase their bulk and shorten their stature. women too tall and slender use horizontal lines and puffed and ruffled effects to great advantage, thus increasing the apparent size of an arm by puffs and surrounding bands, or hips by the descriptive line of a basque. the way of wearing the hair, also, may greatly change the whole appearance. worn at the nape of the neck it is domestic; lower, romantic; on a level with the head, classic; on top of the head, stylish. decorations. a tenet of delsartean art asserts that, "a decoration is to make something else beautiful and must not assert, but sacrifice itself. ornament that has no use whatever is never, in any high sense, beautiful." a trimming with no reason for being is generally ungraceful. buttons which fasten nothing should never be scattered over a garment. bows, which are simply strings tied together, should only be placed where there is some possible use for strings tied together. in short, according to mrs. haweis, "anything that looks useful, and is useless, is in bad taste." for instance, the dress imitating a peasant or a fishwife is never so graceful or piquant as the real costume, since the handkerchief covering the peasant's bare neck is much more picturesque than a bodice trimmed in form of a kerchief. slashes are at all times a most beautiful decoration. at shoulder, elbow, breast, edge of a flattened cap, the knees, cut just where a devotee of comfort might cut them to give more freedom of movement. the slash forms an unrivalled opportunity for displays of color. deep blue, parting to display a glimpse of amber, white through black, the combinations are endless, and the whole gives the idea of a glimpse of an undergarment through an outer one. the contrast of a lining of vest, sleeve or panel is also a harmonious ornament. décolleté costume. it is not the province of this work to decide the vexed question of the low-cut bodice for full dress. in this respect every woman will be a law unto herself, and every woman knows in her own mind the border line below which the corsage should not fall. all, however, do not know how greatly the hard, horizontal line of the low-cut bodice diminishes the appearance of height. herein lies the great advantage of the heart or square-shaped opening showing the throat, since a dress high behind, or on the shoulders, gives all the height. last, but not least, all the lovely curves of the throat are shown in this way, and any suspicion of angularity of the collar bone is hidden. a dress should never end directly upon the skin. the line of contact should always be softened by an edge of lace, tulle, or ruching. first, for the idea of cleanliness; second, because "nature abhors sharp edges." in flowers there are contrasts of color, but they are always softened, each shade stealing a little from the other as they blend. a regularly _décolleté_ gown is properly worn only during the same hours that a gentleman's dress suit is donned, that is, "from dusk to dawn." sharp edges should be avoided as much as possible in the entire costume. a glove that ends exactly at the wrist bone, or a boot at the ankle joint, with a straight line, is always ugly; so are dresses when they are cut in a circle close to the juncture of the neck with the shoulder, giving the neck a decapitated appearance. the line of contrast should always be softened with an edge of lace, or a necklace, and only round, pretty throats should dare such a display. the skirt ought to appear, even if it is not, as a portion and a continuance of the bodice. that is, "if the bodice be cut to fit the figure tightly, the skirt ought properly to be plainly gored. if the bodice be full at the waist line, the skirt also should contain fullness, for this form signifies a loose, full garment bound at the waist with a girdle." full waists and plain skirts, or _vice versa_, betray at once that skirt and bodice do not belong to each other. this course, however, is admissible at times, for instance, in case of the lovely, loose tea-jackets worn now, or in donning any cool lawn blouse, or dressing sacque for comfort. the trained skirt is a most graceful garb, adding to height and diminishing stoutness, but it is never suitable for the street. for house, evening or carriage toilets it is eminently proper and pretty. all the movements of the form are softened and dignified by its sweeping undulations until one comes to feel that short skirts are really a mistake for a house gown, since so much grace and beauty of motion are sacrificed thereby. graceful sleeves. few women have beautiful arms above the elbow. fatness is not correctness of form, so that a short sleeve, no sleeve, or the painful strap which is all so many evening dresses can boast, is by no means always a thing of beauty. a sleeve that falls in lace and frills just below the elbow hides many defects, besides softening, and rendering delicate, the lower arm and the hand. a sleeve long enough to turn upward as a cuff, is much more effective than a simulated cuff, just as the thing itself is always better than an imitation. a sleeve that stops short at the wrist joint should be relieved by lace to be artistic. full sleeves improve every form. the very stout should never make the mistake of wearing a very tight sleeve, since to do so simply increases the apparent size of the arm. a full sleeve bound to the arm between joints gives an impression of comfort and beauty like the slashed sleeve before mentioned. painters have immortalized beautiful sleeves, as well as beautiful costumes. indeed, to decide on really beautiful gowns one must study the great masters--gainsborough, reynolds, watteau--until the study of costume becomes what it should be--a study of art. purchasing. there should never be trying contrasts in the quality of the various articles that go to make up the sum-total of dress. to expend almost the entire allowance on a gorgeous bonnet that puts every other detail of the costume to blush, or to wear a shabby cloak with an elegant gown are examples of injudicious expenditure. instead, let it be remembered how many articles must be purchased and then so expend the sum to be drawn upon that it will not be exhausted on two or three expensive articles to the neglect of the necessary accessories. an important point to be considered is the surroundings in which the garments are to be worn. whether one is to drive over country roads or walk city streets; whether they must last one season or more. in this latter case care should be taken to choose quiet colors and inconspicuous patterns. if the gown must serve many purposes let it be of some plain wool goods, tastefully made, hat and gloves harmonizing in tint, the whole bearing the imprint of the true lady and suitable for almost any occasion. at the same time the entire outfit will have cost no more than the dearly-purchased silk gown that left no margin for hat, gloves, or shoes, and must be worn on every occasion, suitable or unsuitable, to the discomfort of the wearer and the ruin of the gown. if riding about in the country, choose wool fabrics that will not crease easily, or show dust, and for summer, cotton materials that will come bright and fresh from the hands of the laundress. the young girl. sweet simplicity alone should be the guide for the young girl's costume. the dewy bloom of the cheek, the clear young eyes, the soft rosebud lips, the sweet curves of the lithe form that come but once in a lifetime, are what we want most to see. no heavy velvets or gorgeous trimmings should be worn by any girl under twenty-one. to call attention to her ornaments is to detract from her priceless ornament of sweet and fleeting youth. simple muslins and wools, soft, clinging silks and gauzes should be worn. flowers are preferable to jewels. a necklace of pearls may be worn, should the complexion warrant, but other than this is a waste of money, and a waste of beauty. soft colors, where the skin permits, simplicity in cut, little if any trimming, and we have the costume most fitting for a girl to wear, and when we say "fitting" we have found the key to perfect dressing. diamonds and precious stones. women seem to look upon diamonds as a sort of social _parole_, while, in truth, there are but few women who can wear them without detracting from their own brilliancy; without sacrificing themselves to their jewels. dark, brilliant eyes and dazzling teeth may wear them safely, or, very clear, cool skins with bright, blue eyes may dare them at their own risk. yet, to "tip the ear with diamond fire" is sure to call attention from the best points of the face, and in too many cases simply effaces and outshines the face itself. edmond russell severely criticises diamond solitaires for earrings and esteems the stone a difficult one to wear except when small and used in quantities as settings for other jewels. the secret of good taste in jewels is for a woman to seek out those gems whose colors harmonize with or heighten her own tints, as she does the shades for her gown, and confine herself to them. it is quite the thing now to have a special stone, as it is to have a special perfume. for instance, the turquoise is very becoming to some (it is mrs. langtry's stone), garnets or rubies to others. the pearl, where it can be worn, softens the face more than any other jewel. the moonstone is very nearly as effective, as well as the beautiful opal. rings, some authorities say, should be worn in barbaric profusion, or not at all. a slender, beautifully modeled hand can afford to be guiltless of rings. one less perfect in shape, but white, can be enhanced in charm by a blaze of jewels. plump women. in the days of the painter rubens stout women were the most fashionable creatures that walked the face of the earth. rubens would paint none other than those of very firm build, and so artistically did he drape them, so cleverly did he pose them, and so well did he color them, that every woman aspired to sit for his pictures. to be painted by rubens was a guarantee of beauty, grace and feminine loveliness of every description. the rubens woman is a stout woman of good figure. stout women nearly always have fine forms. their bust line is good. it is low and the neck curve full, even if not very long. the rubens artist makes the most of these good points and conceals others. in modern times, however, the stout woman finds that the fashions are rarely meant for her. in view of this, a number of wealthy new york women have banded themselves together in a rubens club, with one of its chief aims the designing of dresses for the members. for this purpose a professional designer is chosen, an artist of no mean merit. the president of the rubens club, who is a woman of beauty and wealth and great loveliness of manner, had the honor of having the first gown designed for herself. this was an evening robe of great beauty, a regular rubens gown. the materials were dead white cashmere and dull black satin, with a very little lace and jet. the under gown, or the gown itself, more strictly speaking, fell from the shoulders in a long, loose robe. in the front there was a center trimming of black satin and lace and a heavy ruffle of lace outlined the bust and suggested the waist. a few jets were added. the back fitted closely, and around the foot extended a deep band of the black. over the rubens gown fell a robe of the satin. it was caught at each shoulder and fell into a train three feet long when the wearer walked. in repose it lay around her feet, giving her height and a becoming setting. the good points of this gown are, first, the way it showed off the very plump neck of the wearer. the fine throat line was visible, but at the shoulders, where too much massiveness takes the place of fine firm flesh, the robe was draped. the arms were likewise covered at the top, their thickest part, and, as the robe fell over them when in repose, much of their apparent size disappeared. the robe had one very odd feature. the train was a doublet one. the back of the robe was little more than walking length, but the ends were very long indeed. this made a square court train like a monarch's robe, and could be easily brought front by the hand, for trimming or drapery when the wearer was not walking. black satin and sparkling jets. in choosing the color of the gown to be snow-white instead of cream color, the artist knew what he was specifying. white is a diminishing color, while cream color enlarges. the same with black satin. satin, being full of lights and shades, is uncertain in size, and it is preferable to silk or velvet, which makes the person thicker. the jets are dressy, wicked little ornaments that wink at you unexpectedly and disappear. much pains are taken in choosing colors, and then comes the artist's real work. the hardest thing is to fit out his patrons with street gowns that will be conventional, and yet rubenesque. to do this he takes advantage of the cape idea. a stout woman in a neat fitting gown, not too close under the bust, looks picturesque with a golf cape swinging from one shoulder. it gives her height. the dolmans that open in front and fall low at each side are admirable also, according to his ideas. colors and complexions. [illustration] "a thing should be beautiful in itself, and it should be beautiful for you." "good dressing includes a suggestion of poetry;" but to gain this poetic grace careful study must be made of hair, eyes and skin, for a dress that is beautiful in itself, or beautiful on one wearer, may be a failure on another. study to "compose" your costume well; then, donning it, cease to think of it or yourself. lead up gently to all contrasting colors that are introduced into a costume for linings of loose draperies, sleeves, or as vests. glaring contrasts, or "spotty" effects should be guarded against. all brilliant colors in a costume should be reached gradually like a climax in music, or a high light in a fine painting. otherwise there is a jar, and the harmony of relation is broken. complexion determines dress colors. sometimes a color used sparingly in a knot of ribbon, or glimpsed as a lining, is becoming, while the same color, used in quantity, or as a ground color of the costume, might prove inharmonious with the complexion. it is well for every woman to choose a certain proved range of colors that she _can_ bear, and to venture cautiously or seldom on new experiments. these colors will be found like a musical scale, to harmonize well in almost any combination. thus beauty, convenience and economy are all consulted by loyalty to these proved shades. endless arrangements might be suggested on the economical side of the question. the light evening silk of the season before may be used for lining or form the long loose front of the tea-gown of the present. the rich draperies of last year's carriage gown may fitly furnish forth the natty velvet vest and dainty bonnet to wear with this year's street suit, and nothing be lost. one more caution as to colors. the very delicate blonde who has reveled in palest, daintiest shades must beware of presuming too long on that evanescent bloom, lest she find herself basing the color of her dress on a flower that faded years ago. or else, maybe, on one that has unfolded into a richer bloom, and by not adapting her color scale to the changes of time, she loses all the beauty of the present. another mistake women make is to forget that lovely childish curves of early youth change with the advancing years and the babyish style of dressing, so becoming then, may be worn too long. the rounded throat of the plump woman becomes muscular all too soon, and the delicate throat of the slender woman is too prone to lose its soft outlines. the changes of color that occur almost always in cool, pale blondes are often but changes in beauty; still, these changes in complexion must be met with changes in dress. combinations of color. "a secret of artistic dressing is to match the hair as nearly as possible for day and the eyes for evening." "the producing of an all-over effect by drapery, veiling, and head-gear of the same shade is most thoroughly artistic." these two high art axioms may be given as a safe foundation for the choice of colors, in following which no one can greatly err. the woman of mezzo-tints, of soft half-tones of complexion, hair and eyes, loses all color and force when she clothes herself with deep, intense hues. low, warm, unaggressive shades are needed as a background to bring out all her own best points. "some people," says miss oakey, "have many possibilities of form and color which may be brought out under special treatment, but most people have only the one possibility which can be improved upon." certain women may be dressed in one set of colors that emphasize the whiteness of their skin; and, in still another, that bring out their own color, while others must be content with one certain range of tints. red hair, with brown eyes. this type of woman may wear amber, deep lined with fawn or pale yellowish pink; dark, rich red, like a red hollyhock; creamy-white (creamy-white satin with pearls and old point lace); olives and dark greens, claret, maroon, plum and gold color. jewels--topaz, amber, pearls and gold ornaments. all manner of lovely combinations may be made out of these colors; especially dark amber, approaching brown, contrasted with pale fawn or gold color. topazes for jewels. sable furs and the deeper shade of mink are exceedingly becoming, and the same colors of the fur can be had in most dress materials. there is also a certain shade of maroon which makes red hair a positive golden, and throws into bold relief the clear white tint of the complexion even when there are freckles. these same freckles are also improved by the wearing of this maroon color. red hair, with gray or green eyes. this type may wear all the above colors, adding to them all the browns and purples. amethysts may be worn with the grays. grays and any of the above greens contrast beautifully. the ineffective type. this style of woman has dull, light brown hair, no brilliancy of complexion, usually gray or blue eyes. the type often numbers some of our most spiritual and intellectual women, as well as, very often, our constitutionally delicate women. it is a type very difficult to dress effectively. the black of velvet may be worn, and soft wools relieved by velvet or lace; creamy white, by casting reflected lights, clears the complexion. be careful of this however. warm, pale pink may be worn with it. invisible blues and greens (in other words, very dark shades). the palest possible pink may be combined with these as linings, vests or ribbons. pale pink, lined with a pink almost white; pale, but not chalky blues. blue should not be worn in silk, unless of a very dull or lusterless quality. stylish and appropriate jewels. if the eyes are blue, sapphires may be permitted (a gray sapphire is best); pearls, the greenish turquoise, moonstones, intaglios, cameos, antique coins. this ineffective type frequently, because of better health, gains a warmer glow to the skin and a richer tone to the hair. in this case there may be added to the above colors yellow-browns, fawn-browns, and a little lighter green, contrasted with the darker greens. brown-black hair, steel-gray eyes, fair skin with color in cheeks, may wear all greens (save the very light), cream-white, fawns, grays, browns, reds, violet, a rich pink, and all blues. if any type can wear black with impunity, this can. for jewels, any desired stone. black hair, very dark eyes, golden-brown skin, warm color, brilliantly white teeth, may wear rich browns, clarets, deep amber, cream-white, warm pinks and flame-color. avoid black and very pale colors. yellow may be worn sometimes, but with a warning here to the black-haired type in general. a writer on color wisely says that "yellow is a color that should be suspiciously approached with black hair. it is very often but a vulgar contrast." for jewels, diamonds and all rich colored precious stones. black hair, rather sallow skin. this style can wear black, but it must be relieved by white laces to soften and light up the face, thus giving the "effectness [transcriber's note: effectiveness] of a drawing in black and white." dark grays, the dull reds occasionally. there is a peculiar yellow-red, dusty, unluminous, very dark, that can be profitably worn. flame-color can be worn as linings, or trimmings, though since there is so little color in this style, no colors seem to have a true relation to it. dull gold is about the only ornament that can be worn, save a delicate onyx cameo. flowers: white water-lilies, camellias, or the darkest, duskiest, damask roses, and none of these in such profusion as to appear conspicuous. black hair, clear skin, blue eyes. this beautiful combination gives a wide range of color for selection. blues, especially sapphire shades, dark reds, pale pink, blue grays, white, both cream and blue-white, and black, solid and transparent. for jewels, pearls, sapphires, opals, turquoise, diamonds. white flowers, also violets, pansies, etc. the woman with blue eyes should always have some blue about her. it is really extremely interesting to notice how blue brought up close to the throat and then a bow of the same in her hair intensifies the blue in the eyes, making even the pale, wishy-washy orbs a deep violet. when the blue beneath the face is too trying there must be some of the same put in the hair or hat, as the case may be. this applies to all colors. brown hair, warm brown skin, brown eyes, may wear browns, yellows, ambers, cream-white, rich blues, tans, fawns, all reds, olive-green and maroon; flame-color, and rose pink in small quantities. this type can wear sharp brilliant contrasts of colors if she choose, providing they keep within range. black, blue, white and all cold, pale colors are to be avoided. the jewels may be diamonds and all rich colored stones. brown-eyed women should wear brown for the very same reason that the blue-eyed woman should wear blue. not necessarily entire brown costumes, but brown placed near enough the face to have the desired effect. dark brown hair, creamy-white skin and velvety-brown eyes, this combination is beautiful, and may wear the black of silk, or velvet with creamy lace to relieve the face. dark reds, purples and maroons, peacock-green, olive-green, ambers, violet, rose pink, with pearls, amber, topaz, ruby, garnet, diamonds. chestnut hair, fair skin, blue eyes. this type can wear almost any color, except mauve and mysterious, pale colors. to wear yellow, she must contrast it with brown or subdued green. chestnut hair, gray or green eyes: this type must be more cautious, especially if the complexion be pale or sallow. olive-green (not too brown), relieved with palest pink. white contrasted with old gold. dark and light blues; purple with white; lilac and burnt cream mingled (pongee is burnt cream shade). black with yellow greens. red in small quantities. in almost every eye there is a touch of green. in some cases it is the predominant color, and when that is the case green should be worn. blonde, fair hair (pale gold or flaxen), blue eyes, with or without a rose flush: this is one of the few types that can wear blue-white. all cool, refreshing colors; cold silvery blues, pale greens, pale grays, black, even the shiny black of satin, are all becoming. heliotrope, purple, cool violet, pink and lavender may be worn. it may be mentioned here that, while there are many other colors she _can_ wear, the cool blonde will never be better dressed than when adhering to the colors that rightfully belong to her, and to her alone. her style is never more charming than when arrayed in sheer, floating, gauzy materials. but since winter must come, silks, velvets and all wools are at her disposal in the desired shades. amethysts, emeralds, sapphires and opals should be her jewels. almost any color. the golden blonde gradually deepens in color as time passes on; she has usually gray-green or hazel eyes, and a warm, rosy skin. it is a type that has a wide range of color from which to choose. warm reds and even flame-color can be worn, but ambers, yellows and fawns will be the more harmonious. warm pink, too, black, brown, warm greens, cream-white, turquoise-blue, violet, purple and warm gray. this same type with pale, clear skin, instead of the roseate blue, must choose very different shades. olive-greens, all soft yellow-greens, cream and transparent white, pale peacock and turquoise-blues, pale amber, mauve pinks, shades of amethyst and heliotrope are all suited to this type. pearls, opals, moonstones, turquoise and topaz, all flowers may be worn, also pansies, sweet peas, and pale tinted roses. all blondes, save the cool blonde, deepen in color as time goes on. let them watch for this, drop their palest tints, and adopt a few warmer hues. occasionally, we see a blonde in whom this deepening process has turned the hair to a golden brown, brought out the warm golden tints of the skin, and with it the blue eyes. here the mistake is often made of ignoring the blue eyes. this should never be done. fawns and old golds are good for this type. browns, deep, rich pinks, blues, all greens but the palest, bluish grays, cream-white and pansy-purple. gray hair. premature gray hair has a picturesque and charming effect, often giving beauty to what might otherwise prove a commonplace countenance. there are several types to be considered. greenish gray hair, premature or natural, accompanied with brown, or dark gray eyes, and a skin in which the brownish tints prevail, can wear all dark greens and olives, blue, browns, and dark amber, warm yellows and dark, dusky reds, yellowish-pinks, dark blues and purple, especially the brownish-purples, also cream-white. gray or black is to be avoided. this range of color will, of course, be chosen from, in accordance with the age of the wearer. for jewels, reddish topaz, and amethyst are beautiful for this type, and tea-roses a most effective flower. gray hair with a lighter, clear complexion and, perhaps, some color in the cheeks, can wear the loveliest harmonies in grays. black can also be adopted and any of the first mentioned colors except brown. a pale complexion with gray or blue and snowy hair, will be elegant in the black of lace or velvet. prematurely gray with fine clear complexion, either pale or roseate, together with blue eyes, is a magnificent type. the gray hair gives the brilliancy of powder, and diamonds combined with turquoise can be worn with fine effect; pearls also. the black gown. women, as a rule, consider their wardrobe incomplete unless it embraces at least one good black gown. "so very convenient, you know, and suitable for so many occasions." in many respects this is very true. but there are several points to be considered. first, there are some types that should never wear black. again, there are others that must carefully discriminate between the black of velvet, wool, satin, or lace, and the transparent black of grenadine and gauze. while to all comes the caution that, after thirty years of age, no woman can safely wear all black without thereby ageing her face. black certainly whitens the skin by contrast, but it brings out and deepens every line. only plump, fair, unlined faces can safely bear the contrast. in wearing black, the material whose tone is most becoming to the skin, must be chosen. for instance, very few skins can bear the glossy black of satin with its reflected lights. black, however, may be softened by a profusion of cream laces or jetted until it scintillates with every motion, and for evening wear the bodice may be cut low, thus removing it from direct contrast with the face. various hints. blondes may, if they choose, wear yellows in harmony with their hair. this possibility was first daringly acted upon by worth with most charming results. blue eyes can always be deepened by wearing the appropriate shade of blue. white can be worn by women of all ages, and in almost all materials is it becoming. for evening wear and for day wear it is most satisfactory. southern women make a point of dressing in it altogether. for evening wear, where the complexion renders it possible, a very pretty effect is produced by wearing colors that relate or melt into the skin tints, such as pinky browns, soft drabs, ashes of roses or warm, creamy tints, like the heart of a tea-rose. the choice of colors. much more lies in choosing a becoming color than people generally imagine. there is an old story told about some celebrated man, whose lifelong devotion to his wife was considered somewhat remarkable, as she was a very plain woman. one of his friends asked him what had been the first thing about her that had attracted him. he said: "a pink shawl that was lying on the back of the chair in which she was sitting made so pleasing a contrast to the white frock she wore that i thought only of that, and upon asking for an introduction to her solely on account of the pink shawl, i was then introduced to a wonderful fascination of manner and grace of mind which have enthralled me ever since." a woman's surroundings of necessity play a great part in her appearance, but it does not by any means follow that luxurious furnishings have any more effect than the very simplest and plainest, particularly if they do not throw out well the beauty of the coloring. what shades of ribbon to choose, what colors to wear are far more serious matters than the majority of people realize. the most stunning gown in the world, if it be unbecoming, will not be half so efficacious as the simplest and plainest of gowns of a becoming color and cut. this is emphatically a picturesque era, and wide latitude is allowed in the choice of what is becoming. but big hats, big sleeves, very stand-out skirts and a general fashion-plate air do not do for every woman, and she who has her gown made on the simplest possible lines will create more sensation in a roomful of very much gotten-up women than if she attempted to vie with them. harmony and contrast of colors. the following is a list of colors which contrast and harmonize: white contrasts with black and harmonizes with gray. white contrasts with brown and harmonizes with buff. white contrasts with blue and harmonizes with sky-blue. white contrasts with purple and harmonizes with rose. white contrasts with green and harmonizes with pea-green. cold greens contrast with crimson and harmonize with olive. cold greens contrast with purple and harmonize with citrine. cold greens contrast with white and harmonize with blues. warm greens contrast with crimson and harmonize with yellows. warm greens contrast with maroon and harmonize with orange. warm greens contrast with purple and harmonize with citrine. warm greens contrast with red and harmonize with sky-blue. warm greens contrast with pink and harmonize with gray. orange contrasts with purple and harmonizes with yellow. orange contrasts with blues and harmonizes with red. orange contrasts with black and harmonizes with warm green. orange contrasts with olive and harmonizes with warm brown. citrine contrasts with brown and harmonizes with green. citrine contrasts with crimson and harmonizes with buff. russet contrasts with green and harmonizes with red. olive contrasts with white and harmonizes with black. olive contrasts with maroon and harmonizes with brown. gold contrasts with any dark color, but looks richer with purple, green, blue, black and brown than with the other colors. it harmonizes with all light color, but least with yellow. the best harmony is with white. [illustration] dress for special occasions [illustration] "the beautiful is the suitable." "a woman careless of her dress is either unloved, or unhappy." "dress is to the body what good sense is to the mind." "dress is really a department of manners," and appeals to the eye with the same force that gracious words and softly keyed voices appeal to the ear. costliness is not the measure of the beauty of dress. nay, rather suitability, harmony, becomingness, unobtrusiveness, fitness for the place and person are the qualities that make it perfect. and because these canons of good taste are so frequently sinned against it has seemed best to give the proper dress and appointments for the proper times. not as to particular styles for they are fleeting as the breath of fashion, but as to general principles which are well nigh changeless. once certain of these fundamental principles, embarrassment and self-consciousness are banished. dress at home. it is, perhaps, the dress at home that tells most of the care and character of the wearer. much regard is given to the dress for other occasions, but here comes the test of delicacy and refinement, the criterion of the individual. neatness is the first requisite, suitability the second. there is nothing more of an offense to good taste than seeing the delicate fabric, the ribbons, the laces of a once elegant toilet, degraded to the uses of the kitchen, spotted and soiled almost beyond recognition. have gowns adapted to the tasks for which they are intended. the neat gingham, the plain wool gown, are pretty and appropriate for the morning wear of any lady who must superintend the workings of her own household. aprons, gloves, dust caps, which can be quickly doffed and will leave her neat and presentable for the stray morning caller without the necessity, on her part, of a change of costume, and on his, of a tedious waiting. for afternoon the prettiest of toilets may be worn in the shape of house-dresses, or tea-jackets made of otherwise useless remnants of bright silks, and ribbons may be used to wear with otherwise presentable skirts whose original bodices have been long outworn. trains, medium, are always pretty in the house, hence tea-gowns, from the richest to the most modest in cost, are always in favor. avoid very short skirts for the house; they are awkward, and belittle you from a mental as well as a physical standpoint. observe the utmost neatness in every detail of the toilet for home or street. it is an old rule, but a very good one, that a woman may be judged "by her boots, gloves and pocket-handkerchiefs." to this may be added "finger nails," and last but not least, skirt edges. "no matter how elegant the general get-up may be," asserts one fastidious critic, "if a woman's skirt binding is muddy, frayed, or pendant, she is, to my mind, not a gentlewoman." the general fitness. the style of the person should have much to do with choosing the style of dress for any occasion. only people lacking the slightest originality of mind would think of blindly following the dictates of fashion without any reference to their own physical style. very short women should not wear very large hats. women with very thin faces should avoid wide hat brims and many plumes. women with large, full faces should not go to the extreme in wearing small bonnets. to do so is but to exaggerate the defect in each case. no matter what the extremity of style may be, there is always a happy medium from which to choose. flying curls and a great superabundance of ribbons and fluttering ends belong only to a young girl. to persist in an extremely youthful style of dress long after the passing of youth, instead of adding to the apparent youth of the wearer, simply defeats its own end by exaggerating the defects it was meant to conceal. small, thin women should not wear too much black. let them wear a profusion of fluffy laces about the throat; soft, puffy vests, or, as one writer observes, "learn something from sara bernhardt and her consummate skill in concealing bones." short, stout women should see that all adornments, such as folds, plaits, etc., keep as much as possible in perpendicular lines. it is a mistake to think that perfect plainness will disguise the breadth, it rather emphasizes it. on this style of woman a loosely-fitted wrap has a better effect for the street than a tight, plain garment. common-sense sleeves. a very stout or a very thin woman should never wear extremely light sleeves, no matter what the style may be. the stout woman should also avoid an elbow sleeve with loosely falling ruffles, and the trimming, if possible, should run in lengthwise folds or bands. this precaution tends to decrease the apparent size of the arm. the slender woman, on the contrary, is much improved by the puffed elbow sleeve ending with a fall of lace. let women learn to put on belts so that they will slip downward in front and up in the back. this does everything for the waist in making it look slender and graceful. if yokes are worn, it is well to remember that a deep yoke is more becoming than a narrow one. if it is short in front, it looks awkward, and if it is short behind, it gives a round shouldered effect. where a rich toilet is worn for any occasion, be sure that everything is in keeping. if the gown be of velvet do not wear with it a linen collar or cheap lace. if real lace is beyond the means there are always the filmy tulles and _crêpe lisse_. if jewelry is worn, it should be of the best, be it much or little. the fan, also, for such a costume should carry out the idea of luxury. cheap, fanciful, pretty things have their place in connection with soft wool, or pretty cotton costumes, but "lightness or grace is one thing; magnificence or luxury, another." a very young girl should never wear rich, heavy fabrics; they are unsuited to her youthful face and ways. the evils of tight lacing are so pronounced that it would seem almost unnecessary to remonstrate against them in this age of enlightenment, were they not so continually forced upon our view. nothing could be more unbecoming to the women fair, fat and forty, who are usually the ones to adopt this custom; an inch less in waist is hardly gained at the price of an unbecoming flush, a labored breathing, and a serious injury to the health, besides the lack of grace that comes from binding and constricting any portion of the human form divine. gloves and shoes. to have many dresses is always a mistake even among the very wealthy. they are constantly going out of fashion and unless the owner is continually seen at balls, receptions and other gatherings, they are entirely unnecessary. the glove of to-day is fitted comfortably. nothing is more indicative of a lack of taste than to crowd the hand into a glove that is several sizes too small for it. the same might be said of the foot, and with more reason, since a painfully tight shoe not only injures the health, comfort and complexion of the wearer, but is ruinous to all grace of carriage. there is nothing marks the true lady as much as the perfection of neatness and style in gloves and shoes. to be well gloved and to have one's feet neatly clad, no matter how plain the attire, is to be well dressed. (other hints on this subject will be found in the departments of "art in dress" and "colors and complexions.") the umbrella, too, must be carefully chosen. if it is possible to have parasols and umbrellas for different occasions, then there is no difficulty of choice, but where one must answer for all occasions of the season, let it be a plain, dark or black silk. this will be suitable at all times, but if the fancy of the moment, as to pale and delicate colorings be consulted, the result is too often painfully incongruous. in buying gloves, shoes or umbrellas, it is worth while to invest in a good article. there is no economy in the poorer grades. artifices of the toilet. all artificial aids to beauty should be sparingly used, and have no place whatever upon the toilet table of the young girl. powder and paint are so obvious to the eye, that their use, or rather abuse, by some otherwise sensible women, is a continual wonder. a dust of rice powder is sometimes excusable, but there can be no possible apology for the "made-up" faces one sees upon our streets. they deceive no one and have no excuse for being. the woman who stands in the pitiless glare of the footlights must needs add color to replace that stolen from her face by the strong white light of day, but others have no such excuse for "frescoing" the face. it is a sin alike against good taste and good breeding. there are various simple preparations that can be used to clear the skin, and various massage treatments to smooth out the cruel little lines that time writes on all faces, and kindly unguents to fill out the hollow cheeks and temples, and thus keep the outlines of youth a little longer. and there is wholesome living and vigorous exercise, and daily and revivifying baths to call the flush of health to the cheek; and loving thoughts and kindly deeds to keep the eyes soft and bright, and thus to set the inroads of time at defiance for many years. and since a woman is no older than she looks, and since the prerogatives of youth are dear to the heart, it is her bounden duty to keep herself sweet and young. there is one excusable addition to the personal charms and that is where nature has denied the grace of luxuriant locks. this lack can be so cunningly supplied by the hairdresser's art that detection is impossible, and as it ever has been, and ever will be, that a woman's hair is a glory unto her, there can be no reason against her hiding from view any lack of it when it is done in an artistic fashion. when to wear jewels. mme. de maintenon declared that good taste simply indicates good sense, but many women who boast of good sense seem not to have the slightest idea of the times and places for wearing precious stones. it is conceded by all authorities that articles of adornment consisting of or containing jewels or precious stones should never be worn in the street. exception is made in favor of rings and watches. the woman who wishes to adopt correct form in dress will never wear any but the simplest little pin to fasten her gown at the throat during the morning hours and on the street. for ceremonious visits, a pretty and ornamental pin of gold is proper, or of gold and enamel, but even then it should have a useful purpose; it should fasten some part of the toilet. the enameled and gold wreaths of myrtle or of forget-me-nots are extremely pretty for these simple pins. so are the true love-nots or a flower of enamel upon gold, but without the all-prevailing diamond dewdrop or center. for dinner, a woman may wear the richest gems, it being understood that the function is a ceremonious one, and that she shall wear a low gown. should she dine in a more democratic way and the men of the family do not wear evening dress, she naturally will wear a high gown or one possibly open a little at the throat. she may wear a pin with a single gem under these circumstances. for balls, operas or entertainments of corresponding splendor, a woman, when she is not herself the hostess, may wear any number of well-chosen jewels. it is quite correct to be sumptuous in this particular, but well to remember that jewels, like flowers, harmonize or do not harmonize, and that emeralds and turquoises, for example, may not be worn in conjunction, because, as the french say, "they swear at each other." it is not good form to wear ornaments made in the form of beasts or reptiles. the sacred emblem of the cross set in shining jewels and worn at ball or rout, shows a most pitiable ignorance of the eternal fitness of things. well bred young girls are limited as to jewels--a string of pearls for the slender neck, a ring with the natal stone or an armament of turquoises and pearls, a little gold love manacle about the wrist, that is all, and quite enough until after marriage. a bride may wear for the marriage ceremony either diamonds or pearls--not in profusion--but never gold ornaments. use of scents and flowers. the use of various scents is more sinned against than any other toilet accessory. only the faintest suggestion of perfume should be allowed to hang about the garments of a well-bred woman or girl. to wear any redolence on the person in the shape of sachet bags is unpardonable. to many people strong perfumes are extremely unpleasant, and those who have regard for the feelings of others would forbear their use for this reason alone, even were it not a sin against the canons of good breeding as well. when perfumes are used, it is a dainty custom to choose one favorite scent and to use that, and that only, so that in time the sweet, illusive odor becomes almost a part of the personality. flowers, fresh, dewy flowers seem the natural adornment of youth especially, and to forswear the pretty custom would appear an uncalled-for giving up of the sweet thought which dedicates the flowers of the field to their human prototypes. yet there is reason in the custom that has, in great measure, withdrawn them from the heated ball-room and the artificially illuminated dinner table. corsage bouquets, in dancing, become an early ruin. carried in the hand at a ball, they are speedily tossed aside on the nearest point of refuge and left there to ignominiously fade. when flowers are worn at an evening entertainment, choose those that will best stand the light and heat. the face veil. in spite of the protestations of oculists, women continue to regard veils as an essential part of their toilets; first, because they are becoming; and, second, because they keep their hair in order. the plain tulles and nets, which come in all colors, single and double widths, are always pleasant to wear and less trying to the eyes than the coarser meshes. the veil of brussels net wrought in sprigged designs is a failure. it is becoming to nobody, and is essentially inartistic. women with dark hair and eyes and a brilliant color look well in veils with the dots larger and nearer together. if the skin is clear, white veils are very becoming, though apt to give an impression of a made-up complexion. the woman with fair hair and blue eyes, and without color, generally looks best in a large meshed black veil, with the dots--if dots are worn--far apart. a navy blue veil makes the skin look clear and fair, and a gray veil should never be worn by the pale or sallow woman. when to wear gloves. the question of when to wear gloves is a much disputed point in the etiquette of dress. they are worn to dinner parties, but custom prescribes that they shall be removed in sitting down at the table. after using the finger-bowl, the gloves should be resumed before leaving the table, or else immediately after returning to the drawing-room. to wear gloves while assisting to pour tea for an "at home," is out of place, but it is very usual to wear them while receiving in the afternoon, though their omission at such a time is pardonable. the visitors, of course, wear both gloves and bonnets. at a "stand-up" evening supper it is not usual to remove the gloves since there is really no time or place to do it, where each one is expected to leave as soon as possible to make room for the next. remove the hand only of the right glove and tuck it back under the wrist. dancing parties always call for gloves, preferably light in tint. to wear gloves while playing cards is also an unnecessary affectation of elegance. walking, driving, shopping and all outdoor events, such as lawn parties, etc., call for gloves. tint and quality of these are to be regulated by the occasion or the costume. when to wear low-cut gowns. this question has but one answer, "never by daylight." in this respect the rule that governs the wearing of a man's dress suit--"from dusk to dawn," is applicable. even on those occasions when the jealous daylight is shut out and candlelight reigns, dress suits and full _décolleté_ gowns are not permissible. a concession can be made by cutting the corsage a little low in the throat, and by elbow sleeves or almost no sleeves. for every social function held from midday to a late dinner hour, young girls, especially, should wear their gowns cut high with long sleeves, except on some gala occasion, when the rule may be somewhat relaxed as above. even at balls, evening parties, late dinners, the young girl's evening dress, if _décolleté_, should be very modest in cut. where a dinner and dance follow a large afternoon reception and the men who are invited are apt to arrive at dinner in full evening dress, a girl's dress may be somewhat elaborated, but not to the extreme of ball costume. ball dress. for the ball-room the most elaborate dress is to be worn; _décolleté_ corsage, flowers and jewels are all appropriate. those who dance should wear pale colors and light, floating fabrics, leaving the heavy silks and velvets for those who do not indulge in this amusement. a low-cut corsage is not expected of elderly women unless they wish it. chaperons can wear an elegant dinner dress if they desire; velvets or brocades, cut square in the neck, with a profusion of fine lace and rich ornaments. in short, she should be as different as possible from her charge. if an elderly woman of full figure wears a low-necked dress, a lace scarf or something of that sort should be thrown over her shoulders. gowns cut dancing length or with train, are appropriate for the ball-room, but where much dancing is to be indulged in, trains are very much in the way. opera dress. for the opera the most elegant dressing is desirable. ladies may wear evening gowns, and men dress suits. if they occupy boxes this is almost an obligation. light colors render the house more attractive--are, in fact, a part of the whole spectacle. jewels and flowers are there, and those who wear visiting or street costume are in the minority. if a man wear a dress suit it is expected that the woman will show him sufficient respect to wear an evening gown. the man's costume is donned out of respect for the occasion and the woman, and she betrays utter ignorance or remissness of duty when she does not return the compliment in kind. high hats are an abomination at opera or theater. where anything is worn upon the head, it should be in the shape of a tiny bonnet, a dainty confection of tulle, flowers and ribbon. this is especially necessary where a public conveyance must be made use of to reach the place. at an opera matinée the bonnet must be worn in connection with an elegant visiting or reception costume. middle-aged women wear the same costume at the opera that they would at a dinner party. theater costume. to dress for the theater is a much simpler matter than for the opera. display is not required here. elegant visiting or promenade costume is appropriate. dressy little bonnets or small hats, gloves, either matching the gown or light in tint, complete the theater toilet. if a large hat is worn to the theater, common courtesy demands its removal that those in the rear may see the stage. dress for concerts admits of a little more display than for the theater. a silk gown with a little lace and jewelry, and white or light kid gloves. dinner dress. a lady's dinner dress may be elegant as her fancy dictates. but if she is hostess she should never try to eclipse her guests. trained gowns are eminently suitable, and may be worn by maids or matrons alike. full length trains are not necessary, and even demi-trains need not be worn by very young women. but the soft sweep of a train lends an added grace to a woman's gown, and this is one of the few places where it can be appropriately worn. the corsage may be cut square, or heart-shaped, or opened at the throat in any pretty way, but never so low as for a ball dress. sleeves are usually half length, and bracelets are given an opportunity for display. long gloves must be worn. as to color, all shades, from the safe selection of a black silk or velvet, down to the palest tints, are in order, the only proviso being that color and material suit the style of the wearer. an elderly lady inclined to stoutness, and with a florid cast of countenance, is at her worst in light silks or satin. they heighten her defects, while darker shades subdue her coloring and serve to decrease her apparent size and superfluous breadth. for a young girl, a simple dress of wool goods in white, or pale becoming tints, is all that is necessary. open it slightly at the throat, soften it with a little lace, show the pretty arms in a demi-sleeve, and it is far more suited to her youth than an over-elaborate gown. if the dinner is held by daylight and the men wear morning dress the ladies must confine themselves to high-cut gowns turned in slightly at the front and fastened with a simple pin of gold enamel, with, perhaps, a single gem at its heart. traveling notes. a dress for traveling should be plain and serviceable; a tint should be chosen that does not show soil or dust. a duster, an ulster or over-garment of some kind made of pongee silk, linen or whatever material is in vogue, should be worn to protect the costume from smoke and dust. [illustration: traveling costume.] the hat should be plain and a veil worn to shield the eyes from cinders when traveling by railway. a pair of slightly smoked spectacles are very good for this purpose. carry an extra wrap and a hand-satchel to hold the needed toilet articles. let everything else go in the trunk. a woman burdened with "big bundle, little bundle, bandbox and umbrella," is a burden to herself and a terror to others. let the satchel contain a flask of some invigorating toilet water--florida, lavender or whatever is most refreshing, with a soft sponge to bathe the face, hands and wrists, and thereby many a headache can be warded off. if traveling in a sleeping coach, a larger valise should be carried and ought to contain a pretty loose gown of dark silk or wool to serve as a slumber robe, since clad in this one may safely venture from berth to dressing-room without exciting observation. the rule for traveling dress is that there should be nothing about a lady to attract attention, but this is relaxed in case of ladies traveling a short distance for a brief visit, who are privileged to wear the dress that suits their purpose. bridal dress. the conventional bridal dress is pure white, whether the material be satin, silk or muslin. it may be made trained or walking length. if a veil is worn the gown is cut _en train_. white satin slippers must be worn and white gloves. rip the fourth finger of the left-hand glove ready for the ring; the maid of honor will turn this back at the proper moment. natural flowers are carried and a wreath is worn with a veil. the veil should sweep to the edge of the train and may be simply a cloud of sheerest tulle or filmy lace worth a king's ransom. it may be worn over the face or not, as fancy dictates. sometimes a white leather or pearl bound prayer-book is carried instead of the bouquet. this custom has the advantage of having the prayer-book as a memento of the occasion, while the flowers wither. a young girl, known to the writer, carried with her to the altar the same prayer-book that her mother before her had carried on her wedding day. the wedding dress, no matter what its material, must be cut high in the neck and with long sleeves. this in deference to the fact that a marriage is not simply a gala occasion, but the turning point for weal or woe in the bride's life, and a solemn sacrament of the church, and not to be celebrated in the garb of frivolity. where flowers are worn, orange blossoms are particularly appropriate, though no german maiden would think of donning the bridal veil without its attendant myrtle wreath. any white flowers, however, are appropriate. where jewels are worn the choice is absolutely confined to pearls and diamonds (not in too great profusion). instead of flowers, the veil is sometimes fastened with a star or sunburst of diamonds. widows, no matter how youthful, are not privileged to wear the white bridal robe, the veil, nor the orange blossoms. however, the most exquisitely delicate tints may be chosen for their adornment. if the marriage is private and the bride leaves immediately on her wedding trip she can be married in her traveling suit. at other private weddings, where no trip is taken, the bride usually wears a pretty reception or visiting costume of silk or wool, choosing some color that will be appropriate for after-wear. the bride's mother, whether the wedding be at home or in church, wears an elegant reception gown. even if she be in deep mourning she lays aside its sombre shades for this one hour. invited guests should also avoid mourning garb. bridemaid's dress. the bridemaids' dresses are often all of white, but frequently colors are chosen, sometimes all alike; again, two by two of different hues. the material of these gowns must be much less expensive than that of the bride's. their bouquets or baskets of flowers may be either white or colored. they sometimes wear lovely picture hats with broad brims and drooping plumes. what wedding guests wear. if the wedding reception is held in the evening, full evening dress is worn; reception gowns being suitable for the elder ladies. (see "ball dress.") where children are present, the girls are dressed in sheer muslin or lace over silk slips, and adorned with fluttering ribbons. the boys in fanciful costumes, such as pages' suits, etc. if it is a morning reception, rich visiting or promenade costumes should be worn, small dress bonnets and white gloves. ordinary evening dress. this applies to small parties at home or with friends, to receiving calls at home or in making an evening call. it should be appropriate to the season. pretty wool goods, exquisitely made, in winter; organdies, grenadines and mulls for summer; laces, a modest bit of jewelry or a simple flower, and one is sufficiently well-gowned. if the gathering is a little more formal, reception dresses may be worn by the matrons, while the young ladies garb themselves as for receiving at an afternoon tea. if gloves are worn at all on such an occasion they must be light colored. they are really unnecessary, unless the taste of that especial "set" is very strongly in their favor. if in doubt, it is well to go furnished with a pair for use in case one finds all the guests gloved, and has not the moral courage to remain the exception. dress for church. well-bred people attend church in simple costumes, free from display. these may be of rich materials, but they are quiet in color and make. jewelry, other than a simple pin, should not be used; earrings, of course, if one is in the habit of wearing them, but not diamonds. the church is not the place to flaunt elegant attire in the face of less fortunate worshipers in the "i-am-richer-than-thou" style that marks the _parvenu_. receiving calls. a lady with regular days for receiving calls wears a reception dress as before described. casual callers she receives in her morning or afternoon house dress. her morning dress, if she superintends her household affairs, should be plain and neat, and be so protected by cap and apron that by doffing these, she will be presentable in a moment. where there are no household cares, a daintier morning dress may be adopted, but let it be suitable to the occasion, not some old, half-worn finery revamped for the occasion. if visiting, a still richer gown may be worn, and for a late breakfast at a watering place one may be quite luxurious. calling or visiting costume. for morning calls dress quietly in promenade costume. wear light-colored gloves unless in deep mourning. if driving, carriage dress may be worn. for day receptions the dress may be more elaborate and the bonnet more "dressy." by not carefully distinguishing between the gowns for different occasions and over-dressing at all times, women lose all the advantages of contrast in style. if lace and silk are worn indiscriminately, what is there left for the full dress function? walking dress. this should be plain--tailor-made is the best--walking length, and of good material. "fussy" styles should not be chosen for street wear, and the hat or bonnet should be rather plain and harmonize with the gown. carriage dress. there is much more latitude for display permitted by the carriage dress. rich materials, elegant wraps, costly furs, are all allowable here. coaching parties, too, have grown to be occasions for most gorgeous costuming. every hue of the rainbow is to be seen as the lofty tally-ho rolls past, until, so great has become the license of color and richness of material, that the "four hundred" are calling a halt, and soberer tints are beginning to mark this amusement. do not wear too many fluttering ribbons, especially if occupying that coveted position--the box seat. it does not add to the skill and accuracy of the driver at a critical moment to have a fluttering ribbon cut like a whip-lash across his eyes. dress for lent. this should be the sort of gown most appropriate and becoming to the attitude of repentance. the gowns, of course, are simple, quiet affairs. symphonies in gray, poems in black and white, must, says one writer, "reflect in their construction as well as color the soberness of the event which they will grace. a train is always admissible for the lenten robe--that is, if it is for house wear. otherwise the skirt must be short--quite short enough, indeed, to give one's churchwomen a glimpse of a dainty gray or black walking boot." any of the heliotrope, mauve or pansy shades, also, are appropriate expressions of the sorrow of the fashionable woman, thus giving a color scheme capable of the most exquisite effects. white cashmere is well suited for the house; and very little draperies, but long, straight lines, give the sought-after effect, and thus the dainty chrysalis rests during the forty days that precede the unfolding of the gorgeous wings of the easter butterfly. dress for riding. the riding-habit should be made of broadcloth or some other suitable cloth. the skirt should be weighted by sewing shot in the lower edge of the left-hand breadths. equestrian tights should be worn. the habit is sometimes worn over another dress-skirt, when, in case of dismounting or accident, the habit-skirt can be slipped off and the rider still left properly attired. very long skirts are not worn. the habit should fit perfectly and button to the throat. linen collar, a pretty tie and linen cuffs are worn, and a leather glove with gauntlet. the hat should be plain, and of the prevailing fashion. lawn parties. the dress for these occasions has been already described; sufficient here to say it should be light and graceful, and the bonnet or hat ornamental and effective. picnics and excursions. light-weight wool goods, or heavy cotton or linen material that will wash and not tear easily, is most suitable for these occasions. linen or cotton duck is very serviceable. croquet, archery, skating, etc. all of these semi-athletic games call for bright, pretty costumes, short enough to give the freedom of movement necessary to excel in the game. for summer out-of-door games, pliable gloves should be worn, and a hat to protect the eyes from the sun. for skating, rich, warm materials, fur trimmings, fur caps, and warm, furred gauntlets should be worn. bathing dress. bathing calls for a costume of some material that will not cling to the form when wet. flannel is appropriate, and a heavy quantity of mohair also makes a successful dress, as it resists water and has no clinging qualities. an oil-silk cap should be worn over the hair. the cut of the dress should be modest; the costume loose and full, and it should be made with a skirt. the neck should be cut quite high. yachting dress. this is a pretty, nautically devised and ornamented suit, made of warm materials and those that will stand sea water. dress for gentlemen. the subject of dress, while not so complex for a man as for a woman, must still receive a certain amount of care at his hands, for no gentleman can possess complete disregard of reigning styles without thereby sacrificing a certain amount of dignity in the estimation of his associates. as far as the cardinal points of the toilet extend, a man is bound by the same laws of exquisite neatness that are incumbent upon a woman. the same care of teeth, finger-nails, hands and hair is necessary. don't neglect the small hairs that sometimes project from the nostrils and the apertures of the ears. use a small pair of scissors. a gentleman will have spotless collars, cuffs and handkerchiefs, irreproachable gloves, nicely blackened shoes and thoroughly brushed clothes. hair oil must never be used; it is ill-bred. clothes of plain colors are always in good taste, and so is pure white linen. the fancy dotted and striped collars, cuffs and bosoms, so often worn, are not as good taste. jewelry should be used very sparingly. utility should be apparent in the articles worn. watch chain, sleeve buttons and studs (one or three, as liked) are necessary. where one stud is used, the stone, though not conspicuous for size, should be a very fine one. a scarf pin is sometimes worn, and one ring is allowable, but not too large or showy. don't use quantities of perfumery, it is very bad taste. keep a dressing-gown for use in the dressing-room or the sick-room. it is not a proper garment for the table or the sitting-room. wear the hat properly and squarely upon the head. wear a coat at all proper times--in the sitting-room, drawing-room, and at table. lastly, a gentleman avoids all conspicuous styles of dress, and confines himself to quiet colors and well-fitting, well-cared-for garments. evening dress for gentlemen. the evening dress for gentlemen varies very little from year to year, and the time of wearing it varies not at all. from "dusk to dawn," in other words, a gentleman wears a dress suit during the same hours that a lady wears an evening dress. gentlemen's evening dress consists of black trousers, a low-cut black or white vest, dress or "swallow-tail" coat, and white necktie. the linen must be immaculate. a young man wears a standing collar; an elderly man, if he choose, may wear his favorite style, with due deference to the reigning style. one or three studs adorn the bosom. properly speaking, white or very light kid gloves are a part of evening dress, but to say whether or not they shall be worn always at a formal dinner is hardly safe. if worn, remove them at the table; but at a ball they are indispensable. on all doubtful occasions it is well to be provided with a pair, to use if wished. evening dress is to be worn at balls, large dinners, parties and the opera. it is never worn at church, save in case of an evening wedding. it is never worn anywhere on sunday. in a small town a dress suit on any occasion is apt to seem an affectation. never wear a dress suit anywhere before six o'clock in the evening. "a gentleman never looks more thoroughly a gentleman than in an evening dress," says one writer on etiquette, and it is well for those to whom the occasion is liable to come to learn to wear one gracefully and easily. in france a dress suit is worn upon nearly all festive occasions. in england the same customs prevail for its use as in our own country. morning dress for gentlemen. black cutaway, or prince albert coat (frock coat), black vest, white in summer, light-colored trousers, silk or some other style of stiff hat, and a black necktie. a light coat is never worn with black trousers. this morning dress is worn at church, morning receptions, informal parties, garden parties, when making calls, and at places of amusement. wedding dress for gentlemen. at morning weddings, that is, all weddings before six o'clock, the gentlemen, bridegroom, best man, and all, wear morning dress with light-colored ties. if gloves are worn, light-colored ones must be selected. if there is a formal reception held in the evening, evening dress and white or very pale gloves may then be worn. at an evening wedding, evening dress is expected. gloves for gentlemen. gentlemen wear gloves when walking, riding, or driving, at church and all places of amusement, when making calls, and at receptions, balls and evening parties. white or very pale tints for balls and weddings; delicate tints for evening parties; any shade preferred for the other occasions. general hints. a silk hat should only be worn on appropriate occasions. worn with a rough business suit, or on a picnic or mountain ramble, it is in the worst possible taste. it should appear only with frock coats, dress coats and a fine quality of cloth. felt or straw hats should be worn with short coats or business suits. the mourning weed, conventionally speaking, is worn only on a silk hat; but there is no good reason why those who wish to wear mourning for lost friends should always be in dress of ceremony so to do. diamonds should not be worn during business hours by men who are obliged to stand behind counters or engage in any toil. business suits should never be worn to an evening party in the city, though in small country gatherings they might be permissible. even various styles of outing suits are allowable in some of the informal gatherings at summer resorts. "nice customs courtesy to great kings," or to occasions. evening suit for boys. this is black cloth with the rough surface that is seen in the material used for grown-up, evening clothes. his trousers are the proper width and show a slight but not too pronounced crease. his waistcoat is cut low, and over it he wears an eton jacket of black cloth that is accentuated by the deep white linen collar which turns over it, and which is attached, like his cuffs, to his immaculate white shirt. he scorns all jewelry but a little watch and the white enamel buttons that are in his shirt. his silk hat has a lower and a somewhat broader crown than that made for an older gentleman. a suit like this is worn by a boy from the time he is twelve until he is eighteen, and then he is supposed to assume the regulation evening dress worn by men. _letter writing._ [illustration] "letters are the memory of friendship," and are to be reckoned among the chief links in the social chain that binds parent and child, lover and sweetheart, friend and friend, in harmonious accord. a letter may, from a business point of view, make or mar the fortunes of its sender, while none the less surely, from a social standard, will our epistles approve or condemn our claim for consideration. every position in life, and every occasion which may arise therein, demand more or less exercise of our epistolary powers, and while but few can hope for the grace, the wit, the repartee that sparkle in the missives of a de staël, a récamier, a walpole, a macaulay, every one can and should learn to write a clear, concise, intelligent, appropriate letter. a rare accomplishment. to do this properly is a social accomplishment, and one of the greatest boons that education confers. a graceful note, a kindly, sparkling letter, are each the exponent of a true lady or gentleman, though it must be confessed, since our country furnishes no so-called "leisure class," the art of letter-writing has, in great measure, fallen into feminine hands, the cares of business and professional life ofttimes preventing the sterner half of creation from mere friendly exercise of the pen. it is among women, therefore, that we will find in the present, as we have found in the past, the best and most fluent of correspondents. a certain dread of letter-writing, however, seems to haunt a large class of people. this dread, arising either from imperfect education, a lack of practice or a fear of "nothing to say," can be overcome in great measure by careful study of the few main requisites of the art, as embraced in style, orthography, forms to be adopted and stationery to be used for certain occasions. the style, of course, is a subtle something inherent in each individual, not to be entirely done away with in any case, but to be improved by a careful study of good models, such, for example, as the letters of the above mentioned authors. to read the best prose writers also cannot fail to work an improvement. for instance, the writer once, after an enthusiastic study of taine, was rewarded by the assurance from a literary correspondent that her letters were thoroughly "tainesque" in style. by judicious reading and carefully taking thought, an abrupt style may be softened and more graceful, flowing sentences substituted for its short, sharp phrases; while a redundant style, by the same care, may be pruned of its exuberance. the chief charm of a letter consists in it being written naturally and as one would talk. "we should write as we speak, and that's a true familiar letter which expresseth a man's mind as if he were discoursing with the party to whom he writes," says howell, and, ancient as the words are, no better advice can be given to-day. write easily, and never simply for effect; this gives a constrained, stilted style that will soon cool the correspondence. let your thoughts flow as they would were you conversing with your friend, but do not gossip; give friendly intelligence only when certain of its truth. this will not seem too much when it is remembered how written words sometimes rise up in judgment against their authors when the spoken words would long since have been forgotten. a lapse of time will brush the bloom from our sentences and nothing can bring back again the tender grace that transfigured the over-sweetness of some little written sentiment, or redeem it from the realm of the bombastic in our eyes to-day. then "let your communications be, not exactly 'yea and nay,' but do let them be such that you would not fear to hear them read aloud before you, for more than this 'cometh of evil.'" [illustration: "these are my keepsakes."] grammar and orthography. these should receive most careful attention. "a great author is one," according to taine, "who, having passions, knows also his dictionary and grammar." and a good letter-writer, as well, must "know his dictionary and grammar" to render his missives presentable. grammatical errors are almost unpardonable, and a misspelled word is an actual crime in these days of dictionaries. punctuation and capitalization, too, must be looked after, and the whole letter give evidence of thought and care on the writer's part. handwriting, paper and ink are all of importance, and etiquette has prescribed certain formulas for these adjuncts of a good letter, that, however the vagaries of fashion may invade the outer borders of the realm epistolary, are always correct and in good style. the paper in best taste is thick, white or creamy-tinted, unruled and of such a size as to fold once for fitting square-shaped envelopes, creamy-white like the paper. never use envelopes so thin in quality as to permit the writing to be seen through from the outside. the square envelope is not a necessity; the slightly oblong is also used, the paper being folded twice to fit this size. this paper would be suitable and in perfect style in any portion of the civilized world, and on any occasion, and no one with any pretensions to good breeding should be found unsupplied. this is an item in which we cannot afford to economize, for one judges a lady or gentleman, unconsciously, by the contents of his or her writing desk, as exemplified by the letters sent from their hands. monograms are not entirely "out," but they are only used by those to whom their own especial design, through long use, has come to seem almost a part of themselves. all fleeting fancies in stationery should be passed by on the other side, or, at most, left to the wayward tastes of "sweet sixteen," or to some few whose very eccentricities are part of their fame. sarah bernhardt, for instance, uses blue paper framed in a pale gray line on the top of the page, and the flap of the envelope is a tragic mark, above which her initials are traversed by a scroll bearing her motto, "_quand même_." she is as exact, however, in the formulas of her letters as any dowager of the old school. the royal highnesses of england use the paper and square envelopes before described; initials, monograms and crests are left to foreigners and outsiders, and the orléans family, of france, are severely plain in their choice of stationery. [illustration: incorrect mode of holding the pen.] [illustration: proper mode of holding the pen.] [illustration: correct position of the hand.] given the correct paper and envelopes and plain, jet-black ink (no other tint should ever be used), the penmanship must next be considered. it is very well for madame bernhardt to write an elegant, graceful hand that is absolutely impossible to decipher, and for general bourbaki to indite his epistles in a microscopically minute script, but less important people will do well to render their chirography as perfect and legible as possible, and not to flourish. avoid always too near an approach to the clerkly, commercial hand. a talented foreigner once remarked to the writer upon his astonishment at the predominance of this hand in america. "i do not like it," he said; "the clerk sends me in my rates, the landlord my bill, and the young lady her reply to my invitation, all in that same commercial hand. there is no individuality, no character, in such writing." and there was too much reason in his remonstrance. we are not quite "a nation of shopkeepers," and there is no reason why this business handwriting should so permeate all classes of society. the lines should be straight, and as ruled paper is not permissible in formal notes, invitations or punctilious correspondence, savoring too nearly of the school-room and the counting-house, some little practice may be necessary to keep the lines even. should this prove impossible, let a sheet of paper with heavily ruled black lines that will show through the writing paper, be kept in the desk and slipped beneath the page as a guide. it may also be inserted in the envelope to keep the superscription or address perfectly straight. the lines should be rather far apart, and the fashionable hand just now is not the pointed english style, but somewhat verging on the large, round hand of the last century; the ladies, as a rule, indulging in a rather masculine style. [illustration: proper position of a lady in writing.] thin foreign note paper may be used for letters abroad, unless the most formal. this is usually ruled. so is the commercial note used for business letters. these forms answer for ladies and gentlemen alike. there is no particular objection to gentlemen using in their informal friendly letters, business note with printed letter head, but for ceremonious occasions they must be bound by the foregoing forms. very faintly perfumed paper is the prerogative of the ladies. gentlemen are denied this privilege and a lady avails herself of it with discretion, selecting a favorite odor and adhering closely to it, so that correspondents could tell her missives with closed eyes, by their very fragrance. where black-edged paper and envelopes are used by persons in mourning, the width of the black border varies according to the nearness of the deceased relative or the length of time since the loss, though some never use more than the narrowest line of black, while others still, with the most perfect propriety, discard it altogether. its use is a matter of taste simply, and must cease so soon as the mourning garb is dropped. never be guilty, however, of writing a letter of congratulation on black-edged paper, even if in mourning; use plain white for this purpose. at the same time, it is never necessary to write a letter of condolence on black-bordered paper, unless the writer himself is in mourning. [illustration: improper position. proper position.] the careful writing of a note or letter is a mark of respect to the recipient, and blots, erasures and mended words should never be permitted to disfigure it. erasing cannot be done without marring the entire page and a mended or rewritten word is an offense to the eye. to copy the letter afresh is the only real remedy, and those who value their own standing will not grudge the pains spent in the composition of a letter that shall be a credit to the writer and a pleasure to the receiver. this comes under the general recommendation of doing everything you do as it ought to be done. there should be no slipshod way of writing a letter by which you are to be judged. figures and abbreviations are often used. few numerals are allowable, except the dates, the street number and the hour of the day. very large sums of money are also stated in figures unless they begin a sentence, when all numbers must be written out fully. figures are also preferable in uneven sums of money too long to be written with one, or at most two words; per cent., as well, is rulable in figures. degrees should be either written " °," or "seventy-five degrees." fractions, given alone, should be in words, and all other numerals occurring in a letter must follow the same rule, except quotations from stock and market reports. for extra precaution, sometimes sums of money are written, followed by figures representing the same, in parenthesis. common abbreviations. abbreviations proper to social and formal letter-writing are few in number. honorary titles, such as dr., prof., hon., rev., messrs., esq., capt., etc., are usually abbreviated as above, though very good authorities advocate, and with much reason, the use of the full word "reverend," as also the titles "honorable" and "professor." the scholastic titles are also abbreviated by the proper initials, as a.m., m.d., ll.d., following the name. the names of months, of states, the words "county" and "post office," when used on the superscription are also abbreviated. the use of a.m., m., p.m., to mark the divisions of the day, technical abbreviations, and the usual e.g., i.e., viz., etc., are too familiar to the users to need mention. further than the above, brevity is _not_ always the soul of wit. the letter itself, as a whole, is now to be considered, and to facilitate its writing there should be some one corner in every home devoted to this purpose. the incentive to letter-writing is always damped, the happy thought we would send our friend takes flight, if we must find the pens upstairs, the paper down, the ink bottle in the pantry, empty or not, as the case may be, and our patience wherever it may be after the search is ended. [illustration: a scrap of a letter.] letters would be more frequently written, more punctually answered, and half the unreasonable dread of writing done away with, were this matter attended to properly. let the writing desk stand in some well-lighted corner of sitting, dining, or "mother's" room, and let it be stored with all articles necessary to the exigencies of correspondence. should the desk prove beyond the depth of the family purse, then let its substitute be found in a firm, good-sized table or stand, with a drawer where necessary supplies may be kept. two or more sizes of note paper, unruled, with envelopes to match, for the elders of the household; writing tablets and commercial note, together with plain envelopes, for the school-children and everyday uses; a good dictionary, a tray with pen rack and inkstand thereon, and a goodly supply of pens, will complete a corner that will do more toward the family education in good breeding and culture than any other expenditure that can be made, and will render letter-writing the pleasure it should be, instead of the dread it too often is. if one possesses a permanent address, street, number and city may, with great propriety, be engraved on the paper at the top of the sheet. if this is not done the address should always be written clearly on all letters. it is too much to expect one's friends to remember the private addresses of all their correspondents, and time is too precious to be spent searching out some missing letter in quest of street or number, in default of which more than one letter has gone unanswered. the date of a letter, month, day, year and city is first in place. this should be written on one line, beginning, according to length, more or less near the center of the sheet and ending at the right-hand margin. in business letters, unless the printed letter head fixes the place, this line should not be more than one-quarter down the page; while in social or formal letters it should be one-third the distance down. if it should be desirable to give the county also, the date may be allowed to occupy two or more lines, as follows: mendota, la salle co., ill., may , -. in the same manner a city number and address may be given: post street, ottawa, ill., january , -. in writing from hotels, the following form should be adopted: the arlington, binghamton, n.y., october , -. some, in polite letter-writing, prefer to give the address at the conclusion rather than the beginning of the letter. under these circumstances the prescribed form would be: truly your friend, mary n. prescott. franklin grove, lee co., ill., january , -. there are several ways of writing the figures that compose the date of a letter. many business men and others use this form, - - -, or, / / -, for january , -. others still would write as follows: jan. nd, . taste and habit will decide the matter for each. to give the name instead of the number of the month is, perhaps, more elegant. the address, supposing it to be a business letter would come next in order, beginning at the left-hand margin, and our letter would stand thus: tipton, iowa, april , -. mr. william h. hill, wall street, new york. the salutation is a matter wherein there is great latitude of usage. in conformity with custom, some title is to be used in addressing correspondents, and this title differs greatly in accordance with the degree of acquaintance, or friendship, with the party addressed. it should always begin at the left of the page. in the business letter just above, the form might be as follows: tipton, iowa, april , -. mr. william h. hill, wall street, new york. dear sir: (or, sir:) or, if there should be a firm name, the address would be as follows: messrs. williams & hill, wall street, new york. dear sirs: (or, sirs:) (or, gentlemen:) again, if wished, the salutation might be omitted and the address made to serve as title. another form is this: mr. william h. hill, wall street, new york. mr. hill: the following form, though causing an unpleasant repetition of the name, is often adopted in business letters to unmarried ladies, probably to escape the problem that the choice of miss or madam offers to so many: beacon street, boston, mass., february , -. miss mary wright, cherry valley, ill. miss wright: or, omitting the name, the simple address may be used. however, there need not be the slightest difficulty in addressing an unmarried lady, even should she be in her teens, as "madam," or "dear madam," it being a general term as applicable to women without regard to age or condition, as "sir" is to their brethren. this will be easily seen when it is recollected that it is a derivation from _ma dame_, my lady, and since our language is deficient in any equivalent term to the pretty french _mademoiselle_, or the german, _fräulein_, and, as "dear miss" is obsolete, we must be content to utilize "madam" on all necessary occasions. there is another form much used where the address is omitted: michigan avenue, chicago, july , -. miss halstead. dear madam: or, if on friendly footing, simply: dear miss halstead: if two young ladies are to be addressed, the term "misses" should be used, as: havana, ill., february , -. misses taylor & watson, stenographers, church street, rockford, ill. mesdames: the "mesdames" may be omitted and the address used alone, but its addition indicates more polish. the translation is "my ladies." some substitute for it, simply "ladies," which is quite proper. the prefix "dear" may be omitted wherever desirable, but never write "_my_ dear miss halstead," "_my_ dear madam," or "_my_ dear sir," unless intimately acquainted. in writing a social letter the address is omitted or added at close of the letter. a gentleman in private or professional life would be addressed as: frederic guy, esq. dear sir: (or, sir:) or, hon. frederic guy. dear sir: (or, sir:) respectfully yours, john graceland. the use of titles will be explained farther on, but here it may be said that two titles are very seldom given to the same individual at once. for instance, never write mr. fred. guy, esq., nor hon. mr. fred. guy. there are some exceptions to this rule, as where the rev. mr. churchill and the hon. mr. brice are addressed under circumstances where their christian name is unknown, and where a married lady makes use of her husband's title, as: mrs. capt. jones; mrs. judge snyder, and where the rev. prof. dr. kemp shows by his titles the weight of his learning. never deny an individual the titles that are rightfully his. they show that he has fought and conquered men, or books, to win them, and they are the well-earned meed of his endeavor. but never, if you have titles, be guilty of bestowing them on yourself; leave that for others. a gentleman writing to a married lady would address her in friendly correspondence as, "dear mrs. french," or, "my dear mrs. french." to an unmarried lady, "dear miss french," or "my dear miss french." a lady addresses a gentleman in the same fashion, as "dear mr. courtney," or "my dear mr. courtney," or "dear dr. courtney." the proper salutation. nearer degrees of intimacy, of course, formulate their own laws in this regard, but even here, be it said, that discretion may be exercised to advantage. it will also be observed that if the word "dear," or any like term, begins the salutation it is capitalized; otherwise, not. thus: "my dear friend;" not "my dear friend." authorities on etiquette differ somewhat on this score, different works in the author's possession taking exactly opposite sides, the weight of evidence, however, falling on the form given here. the complimentary conclusion, "yours truly," "very truly yours," "very respectfully," etc., should begin about the middle of the page on the next line below the body of the letter. the first word only should be capitalized, and the expression followed by a comma. the signature should come on the line below and end at the right-hand margin of the page. the address also is sometimes, especially in social notes given at the conclusion, where it should begin, one or two lines below the signature, at the left-hand margin of the page, occupying two or more lines, according to its length, as: dear miss lothrop: in reply to your kind note, i would say, etc. cordially yours, marion kent. arcade court, chicago, ill., october , -. another very formal style would be: delaware place, buffalo, n.y., june , -. dear miss lothrop: in reply to your kind note, etc. truly yours, george harland. to miss julia lothrop, beacon street, boston, mass. the conclusion of a letter gives the writer fully as much latitude of style as the salutation. some graceful little phrase should follow the subject-matter of the letter and lead up to the conclusion, thus: i am, with love to the family, and remembrances to all my friends, yours cordially, mary roe. salutation and conclusion should always correspond in formality or friendliness with one another, thus: mr. john bright. sir: would appropriately conclude with: i am, sir, respectfully yours, frank b. folsom. a friendly letter beginning: dear bright: or, my dear bright: would terminate thus: cordially yours, frank b. folsom. other forms for closing business letters are: i am, respectfully, james ross. or, respectfully, james ross. these forms do away with the personal pronoun "yours," which, although custom has in reality rendered it a pure formality, still retains a certain meaning in the minds of some, as the man, who, in a long correspondence with his wife-that-was-to-be, never signed a letter otherwise than "truly yours." "what more could i be," he queried, "than hers truly, body and soul?" and with this feeling could their married life have been other than it was, beautiful to look upon? never abbreviate the conclusion to "yours, etc.;" it has too much the careless, thankless sound of "thanks," and neither can be sufficiently condemned. letters beginning, my dear margaret: or, my dear daughter: might end, respectively: ever yours, or, your friend, jane brown. and, your affectionate mother, gertrude mason. a gentleman, writing to a lady, could say: very sincerely (or respectfully) yours, p.h. gould. or, yours, with sincere regard, henry grayson. the address need not be added unless the acquaintance is very slight. at times a more elaborate closing is desirable and graceful, as when the correspondent is very much higher in station, or older in years, or you have been the recipient of some great favor at his or her hands: i am, dear madam, with the most profound esteem, yours sincerely, james talbot. or, to a gentleman, under like circumstances: i have the honor to be, sir, yours most respectfully, james talbot. such closings as "obedient, humble servant," are quite too much for republican simplicity, and even in writing to no less a dignitary than the president: to the president, sir: very respectfully, james talbot, really fulfills all requirements, though one may consult his own taste in making use of the two complimentary conclusions given above. a lady in writing to a stranger should always suggest whether she is married or single. this will prevent mistakes and annoyance, and can be done in two ways: respectfully, (miss) frances clayton. or, more elaborately: respectfully, frances clayton. address, miss frances clayton, st. caroline's court, chicago. a lady never signs herself as mrs. helen b. hayes, or miss gertrude vance, without, at least, putting the titles in a parenthesis. primarily, a woman is helen hayes or gertrude vance, and should sign herself as such. the "miss" or "mrs." signifies simply an incident in her existence, and is added, as it were, in a note, to prevent mistake on the part of others. a failure to observe this rule indicates a lack of culture. neither does a gentleman ever sign himself mr. brown, but george g. brown, or g.g. brown. use of the husband's name. a married lady should always be addressed by her husband's name preceded by "mrs.," except in case of well-known names, such as mrs. potter palmer, or mrs. isabella b. hooker. a widow is no longer called by her husband's given name, but reverts to her own christened cognomen, preceded by "mrs." thus, mrs. james h. hayes in her widowhood is, to every one, mrs. helen b. hayes. an exception to this would be in the case of such well-known names as abraham lincoln, or james g. blaine, where custom grants the widow the right to bear the beloved title. the superscription or address should be written plainly (if speedy delivery is expected) upon the lower half of the envelope, the flap being at the top. the title and name form one line with about an equal space at each end. the writing should be just below the middle of the envelope. the street number, the name of the city and the state each form a separate line, one below the other, and each should begin a little to the right of the one above, so that the last line will approach nearly to the lower right-hand corner of the envelope. the county or number of post office box may be given in the lower left-hand corner. where there is no street number the county, or even the box number, may be written directly beneath the name of the town. the stamp should be invariably placed squarely and right-side up in the upper right-hand corner. a request for return in a given time may be written, if necessary, in the upper left-hand corner. a physician is addressed thus: dr. albert young, watseka, iowa. or, albert young, m.d., watseka, iowa. in addressing the wife of a doctor the following formula may be used: mrs. dr. albert young, watseka, iowa. the strictest etiquette, however, would involve writing: mrs. albert young, care of dr. albert young, watseka, iowa. [illustration: the place for stamp and superscription.] either of the above forms may be taken for addressing the wife of a professor, an army or united states official, a minister or a legal dignitary, always remembering that the longer is more elegant, as: mrs. melville b. fuller, care of the hon. melville b. fuller, chief justice of the united states, washington, d.c. the president, however, would be addressed: to the president, executive mansion, washington, d.c. this is the simplest form, and as such, in the best taste, but it is sometimes written: to the president of the united states, honorable grover cleveland. "his excellency" was formerly used in addressing the president and the governors of states, but it is largely abandoned as inconsistent with the lack of titles in our country. the same rule is observed in writing to the governor of a state: to the governor, gubernatorial mansion, springfield, ill. or, to the governor, robert p. morton, albany, n.y. a member of the cabinet: to the honorable, the secretary of the interior, washington, d.c. a state official has the following address: dr. john c. wyatt, secretary of the state board of charity, springfield, ill. in addressing one person in care of another the form would be: mrs. john draper, grand de tour, ill. care dr. i.s. prime. a note to be delivered by a friend is always unsealed and usually addressed: miss florence warden, vassar college, poughkeepsie, n.y. kindness of mr. g.a. rhodes. a still better form is to simply use the address of the person without farther preamble. always fold a letter sheet so that the opening lines face the reader on unfolding. punctuation marks. punctuation and capitalization are very necessary matters in the art of letter-writing, but in these days of common schools, and all but compulsory education, it is to be supposed that some knowledge of these important facts will have been gained. it will not be amiss, however, to mention a few of the most necessary rules. the four chief punctuation points are the comma, semicolon, colon, period. in the days of our grandmothers children were taught to "mind their stops," with this rule for a guide: "count one at a comma, two at a semicolon, three at a colon, and four at a period, or 'full stop.'" in punctuating the date, address, closing and superscription of a letter, certain rules are necessary. one of these is that a period follows all abbreviations, such as those of title, state and county, and separates and follows all initials, whether abbreviations of names or titles; while the slight pause occurring between such abbreviations is marked by a comma, and the end of the date, like the end of a sentence, is closed by a period; for example: west main st., galesburgh, ill. or, poughkeepsie, n.y., jan. , -. a colon suggests something more to follow, hence in the salutation of a letter we find a colon at the end, signifying that the body of the letter is yet to come, as: "dear sir:" or, where the communication begins on same line of salutation, we find both colon and dash, as: "dear madame:--yours of," etc. commas are used frequently to divide long complex sentences, and the sentence is somewhat further broken by the use of the semicolon between its more decided sections. abraham lincoln once said: "i throw in a semicolon whenever i am at a loss what pause to use; it always fits." the complimentary close of the letter is followed by a comma and the signature by a period. a period also separates and follows two or more initials, as: yours truly, (mrs.) adeline d.t. whitney. writing the superscription. a very long complimentary conclusion should be punctuated like a sentence, as: i am, dear madam, with the most profound esteem, yours truly, james talbot. the superscription on the envelope is to be punctuated according to the above given rules. an interrogation point (?) should be used at the end of all questions. it is in truth, as the small boy said, "a little crooked thing that asks questions." the exclamation point (!) expressing astonishment, the dash and parenthesis, need only be employed by those thoroughly understanding their use. quotation marks (" ") should always be placed at the beginning and end of words quoted from another; slang, or any fashionable "fad" if written, should be quoted. as for capitals, one should begin every sentence, all names of persons and places, all appellations of the deity, the first word of every line of poetry, and show themselves in the pronoun "i," and the exclamation "o." sealing wax is to be used, or not, as inclination directs, but neatness and skill are necessary in its use, or an unsightly blotch will result, than which the self-sealing envelope is far preferable. a heavy cream-white envelope sealed with a large, perfect seal of rich red, or bronze-brown wax with a clear monogram or initial stamped thereon, is always pleasing to the eye. to very slightly oil the seal will prevent it adhering to the wax and thereby spoiling the impression. in a foreign correspondence, the self-sealing envelopes are better since in tropical countries the great heat often melts the wax, and it is always liable, during transportation in the holds of vessels, to become cracked and loosened from the paper by the weight of other goods, and close packing in the hold. final remarks are scarcely necessary, but it might be suggested that it is rather fashionable to write one's full name, as more elegant than initials. a lady never signs herself simply by initials. mary creighton cutter should so write her name, or, at least, mary c. cutter. never m.c. cutter. a gentleman is privileged to do this in business or formal letters, but in any others, instead of l.b. bancroft he is lucius bright bancroft or lucius b. bancroft. points to be remembered. margins are no longer a necessity even in the most formal letters. sometimes in writing a long, friendly, not formal, letter, instead of utilizing one side only of the paper, it is written across the sheet upon the first and fourth pages, and then lengthwise upon the second and third, though of course it is perfectly correct to write upon the pages consecutively. tautology, or a continued repetition of the same word, is a disagreeable and inelegant fault in writing, as: "if john will _come_ home, we will all _come_, but if he fails to _come_, we will not _come_ until he can _come_ also." one other point remains to touch upon: any one that has ever glanced at the "correspondence column" of any paper will see how often young women ask if it is proper to write to gentlemen who have requested the favor of corresponding with them, and which should write first. this point is rightfully one that should be settled by the mother or other guardian of the girl; but let it be said here that while this is the only country in the world where a so-called "friendly correspondence" is or can be carried on between young men and young women with, or without, any particular object in view, even here it is well to be careful. girls are sometimes a little too confidential, and all men are not gentlemen, outward polish notwithstanding. a friendship too easily won or too fully expressed is not always prized, and while manly men are supposed never to boast of the number of their correspondents, yet club-room walls, could they speak, would stamp many a man as less than a gentleman. titles. the proper use of titles forms an important item in letter-writing. the slightest hesitancy on this point shows a lack of culture on the part of the writer that lowers him at once in the eyes of the recipient. the ordinary social titles used are simple and familiar. these are: mrs., madam, miss, for women; mr., esq., messrs., sir, for men, and master for boys. of course, in writing to an acquaintance, while the outer address retains all its formality, the commencement will be whatever is warranted by the degree of friendship between the parties. domestic titles. by the constitution of the united states it is provided that no titles of nobility shall be granted by the government. neither shall a person holding a governmental office accept any title from any king, prince or foreign state, except express permission be given by congress. the president of the united states and the governor of massachusetts are the only citizens possessing as officials a title by legislative act. this title is the same: "excellency." governors of other states are given this title by courtesy only. however, this title may be omitted at discretion, and indeed the simpler form given is far more suited to our republican simplicity of manners. the following list will be found a complete guide in the use of all honorary titles sanctioned by custom in the united states: ambassadors, foreign, to the united states, are addressed officially by the titles recognized in their own countries, and if they have no title, as "mr. ----," followed by title of office. united states ambassadors to foreign countries, officially as "mr. ----" or "hon. ----," followed by title of office. there are but four ambassadors sent out by the united states, the ministers to russia and england having been but lately invested with that title. the hon. john jones, united states ambassador to the united kingdom of great britain and ireland, or to the court of st. james. archbishop (roman catholic)--letters addressed: "the most reverend ----, d.d., archbishop of ----." associate justices--addressed with: "hon.," name and name of office, but spoken of as "mr. justice ----." bishop--addressed: "the right reverend ----, d.d., bishop of ----." the address of protestant episcopal and roman catholic bishops is precisely the same. bishops of the methodist episcopal church are addressed as the "reverend bishop ----, d.d." cabinet members--addressed as: "honorable," usually contracted to "hon.," as: hon. james johnson, secretary of state, washington, d.c. cardinal (roman catholic) is addressed in writing, and spoken of as: "his eminence ----, cardinal (bishop, priest, or deacon, according to rank) of the holy roman church," spoken to as, "your grace." chief justice--addressed as: "hon. chief justice of the supreme court of the united states." chief justice's wife--addressed as: "mrs. chief justice ----," by virtue of a social custom that is largely observed. this custom does not extend to daughters. clergymen--addressed as: "the rev. ----," spoken to as, "mr. ----." if a doctor of divinity, addressed as, "---- ----, d.d.," or "the reverend ----, d.d.," and spoken to or of as, "dr. ----." college degrees.--all recipients of regular or honorary degrees should be addressed by name followed by abbreviation of degree: a.b., a.m., ph.d., m.d., d.d., as "---- ----, a.b." congress, members of--addressed: "hon. ----, m.c." esquire.--justice of the peace, as well as some grades of lawyers, are addressed in writing and spoken of as "----, esq." any gentleman may be so addressed, but "mr." is preferable. government--official communications from--always begin "sir." governor.--may be addressed as "his excellency the governor of ----." spoken to, "your excellency." see, also, other forms given before. governor's wife is by courtesy addressed, "mrs. governor ----." this usage does not apply to daughters. judges--addressed by courtesy with the title, "honorable," contracted to "hon.," and the name of the office usually follows, as: "hon. ----, u.s. senate." legislature, members of.--address as, "hon. ----," followed by name of office. mayor.--"the hon. mr. ----, mayor of ----." minister, american--addressed as: "hon. ----, american (or u.s.) minister to france." municipal councils, members of.--courtesy grants the title "honorable." officers of army and navy.--addressed by name, followed by title of highest rank attained, and, if in command of a military division, naval squadron or station, or on retired list, by a signification of the fact, as: "---- ----, major general u.s.a., commanding military division of the atlantic;" "---- ----, rear admiral u.s.n., commanding european squadron;" "---- ----, general u.s.a., retired." president.--addressed as "his excellency the president of the united states." spoken to as, "your excellency." president's wife.--addressed by courtesy, "mrs. president ----." usage does not apply to daughters. forms for letters [illustration] lord chesterfield says in those inimitable letters to his son, that "style is the dress of thoughts, and let them be ever so just, if your style is homely, coarse and vulgar, they will appear to as much disadvantage as your person, though ever so well proportioned, would if dressed in rags, dirt and tatters." so true is this that graceful commonplaces, either spoken or written, are far more apt to produce a pleasing impression than weightier matter awkwardly uttered, or uncouthly expressed. hence, the length and familiarity of the friendly epistle should never be carried into the short, concisely worded business letter, while the social note, though brief, should differ greatly in its gracefully turned phrases from the formal note of acceptance, regret, application, or introduction. the following forms are to be looked upon, not as copies, but chiefly as suggestions that may be used to solve some doubtful point. social and friendly letters. these are less subject to rule than any other class, and the models here given are simply to show how flowing and easy the style may be between friend and friend, or how gracious and instructive from parent to child. in the friendly letter great freedom of detail is allowable, especially among near relatives. "you do not tell me half enough," writes h.h. from europe. "i even want to know if the front gate is off its hinges." but do not render a friendly letter so long as to tax the patience of the reader. "samivel veller" discovered one of the secrets of letter-writing when he made that famous love letter of his short, "so she vill vish there vos more of it." neither railing, nor fretfulness, nor too great egotism, is wise in letter-writing, for written words have a sad fashion of outlasting the mood in which they were penned, nay, even the hand that penned them. letters of introduction. these are left unsealed, that the bearer may be permitted to read the contents. they are brief, so that if read in the presence of the person introduced, the slight embarrassment may be shortened as much as possible. they usually contain a reference to the occupation or character of the individual in order that some slight clue may be given to the recipient in beginning a conversation, and usually conclude with some pleasant, complimentary phrase. one simple form would be: evanston, january , -. my dear miss kimberlin: this letter will introduce to you my friend, mr. otis van orin, a member of the corps of civil engineers, to be located near your home for several months during a partial survey of the new railroad. may i not be assured that you will extend to him some of the hospitalities of your delightful home, thus being to him that "friend at court" so desirable to the stranger in a strange land? trusting that this will be the case, i am, very sincerely yours, charles h. calcraft. another, from a mother introducing her daughter to an old friend, would read: waterbury, conn., march , -. dear frances: my daughter madge will present this letter in person, as she is about to enter school in your town for a several years' course of study. under these circumstances, and in memory of our own lifelong friendship, may i not ask that you will help her to forget some of the sorrow of this, the first parting her happy, young life has known? trusting that you will do this for the sake of auld lang syne, i am, as ever, your friend, margaret m. blatchford. mrs. frances h. page, portland, me. a still briefer form would be: baltimore, md., november , -. dear denton: my friend, louis ross, will present this note. any kindness you may show him will confer a favor upon yours truly, frank p. breckenridge. to mr. james denton, ottumwa, ill. the envelope to a letter of introduction should be addressed as follows: mr. james denton, ottumwa, ill. introducing mr. louis ross. letters of introduction should not be sent indiscriminately, as no one has a right to force a possibly undesirable acquaintance upon a friend, while, at the same time, the individual asking such a favor should be thoroughly convinced that he is entitled to the privilege. letters of introduction, where they are between ladies, may be left by the caller, together with her card. she must not, however, ask to see the lady of the house, who is expected, shortly after the receipt of such a missive, to call in person, and should endeavor, during her stay, to include her in a portion of her social plans for the season; circumstances, of course, governing the extent to which these attentions should be carried. a gentleman, in presenting a letter of introduction to a lady, may, if she should be at home, make his first call when sending in his letter and card, whereon should be designated his hotel or place of residence. if this should not be the case, she will answer by sending her card with her reception day engraved upon it, or, if that be too far distant, a note, stating when he may call, should be sent; it may also be expected that her husband, son or brother will call upon him and offer what civilities are at command. even should neither card nor note be sent, it is still permitted him to call once more. his responsibility ceases here, and if no attention follows he may conclude his friend has overstepped the limits of a slight acquaintance in giving him the letter of introduction. a letter of recommendation to some position or appointment is very much the same as one of introduction. its reception, however, does not necessitate social attentions. the form is very simple: broadway, new york, november , -. dear mr. hill: recognizing, as i do, that your position in commercial circles will give your influence great weight, i take it upon myself to introduce to you mr. philip palmer, a graduate of one of the best business colleges in new york city, and a young man of integrity and capacity. any recommendations which you can grant him will be looked upon as a favor by your friend, milton jones. to william hill, elmira, n.y. a general letter of introduction, intended for the perusal of strangers, would read somewhat as follows: _to whom it may concern_: this is to certify that the bearer of this letter, miss marietta hope, was graduated with high honors from vassar college, and has since taught in the schools of this city. as her principal for a number of months, i can truthfully recommend her as capable of filling any position for which she may apply. james h. blanchard, principal of livingston school, new york city. letters of condolence should be written very soon after the occurrence of the sorrowful event, and, while brief, should not be cold and formal; neither should they touch the opposite extreme, and, by dwelling with maddening iteration upon the fresh sorrow, harrow anew the stricken soul of the mourner. the occasion should never be seized upon as a text for a sermon on resignation, nor should frequent reference be made to various like bereavements suffered by the writer. these comparisons only wound, for "there is no sorrow like unto my sorrow," has ever been the cry of the stricken soul. and when friends have done their little all, each mourner still feels the truth of lowell's lines: "condole if you will, i can bear it, 'tis the well-meant alms of breath, yet all of the preachings since adam cannot make death other than death." yet friends cannot deny themselves the privilege of a few loving words, and a letter on the loss of a beloved daughter might be as follows: cape may, june , -. my dear mrs. sutherland: i cannot resist my desire to write you a few words of love and sorrow; only a few, for my heart is full and words seem very weak. thank god, my friend, for the nineteen beautiful years that ended that morning in may. if you could but know how sweet and tender a recollection she has left enshrined in the hearts of her friends, and all the loving, gracious utterances that are offered to her memory! it is well with alice in heaven; that it may be well with you on earth, in the days that are to come, is the prayer of your loving friend, marie. to a friend who has sustained a financial loss might be written: tonawanda, n.y., november , -. my dear blake: the first announcement that i had of your severe financial loss was through the morning paper. i can only express my sorrow at the event and my indignation over the falsity of the cashier in whom you placed so much confidence. hoping that you have employed the best of detective skill, and that you will succeed in recovering a portion, at least, of the sequestrated funds, i am, yours sincerely, george g. parsons. mr. fletcher blake, president of the first national bank, aurora, minn. it must be remembered that letters of condolence, unlike those of congratulation, are not expected to receive an early answer, and, in case of very deep affliction, may remain seemingly unnoticed, save perhaps, after a time, by cards of thanks. letters of congratulation should be sent immediately upon the occurrence of the fortunate event that calls forth congratulatory wishes; they should be brief, gracefully worded and contain no mention of other matter. the occasions in life that call forth such missives are numerous: birthdays, engagements, marriages, anniversaries, business successes, etc., each, or all, should win some congratulatory notice. the formal congratulation is in set terms, usually written in the third person, and may be used between individuals but slightly acquainted; for example: mr. and mrs. stuart congratulate mr. and mrs. fielding upon the successful conclusion of mr. harold fielding's college course and express the pleasure with which they listened to the delivery of his eloquent oration on commencement day. st. caroline's court, july , -. this, in common with all congratulatory letters, should be replied to at once, and, wherever any missive is written in the third person, the reply must follow the same fashion. an appropriate answer for the above form would be: mr. and mrs. fielding unite in sending thanks to mr. and mrs. stuart for kindly praise awarded their son harold on the late important event in his life, and also for the exquisite flowers they sent to grace the occasion. michigan avenue, july , -. a friendly congratulation in the first person is less stately, as, for instance, one friend might congratulate another upon his marriage: georgetown, d.c., january , -. dear jack: "and so they were married and lived happy ever after," of course. at least, that is what you and mrs. julia anticipate at this present time, and is what i, knowing you both, do confidently predict. accept my heartfelt congratulations, and believe me your true friend, richard doe. to john myers, esq., yankton, da. answer to the foregoing might be: yankton, da., january , -. dear dick: julia and i received your congratulations with pleasure, my only regret being that i cannot return them in kind. "gather roses while ye may, old time's a-flying." a word to the wise, etc., and let me speedily have occasion to felicitate you in like manner. your friend and well-wisher, john myers. mr. richard doe, georgetown, d.c. it should be mentioned here that while one congratulates a gentleman upon his engagement, or marriage, and may congratulate his parents upon the same occasion, it is inadmissible to congratulate a lady on a similar event, or to extend the congratulations to her parents. well-bred mothers have been known to resent this solecism keenly. you may, and indeed are expected to, offer to her, and her parents, all manner of good wishes for future happiness, but be sure not to congratulate. almost any success, or pleasant happiness in life, may be made the subject of a congratulatory letter, but a multiplicity of forms is unnecessary here. proposals, engagements, "naming the day," and other letters of this description are important affairs that may all be transacted through the medium of correspondence, but it is to be hoped that a matter so closely personal will quicken the imagination and inspire the pen of the dullest swain. let him woo his dulcinea swiftly and tempestuously, as king hal wooed kate, or let him serve twice seven years as jacob served for rachel, but let him never search out printed forms whereby to declare his passion; nor fit the measure of his love to the lines of the "model letter-writer." as to "naming the day," 'twere a wordless lover indeed who could not say, as the poet says: "sun comes, moon comes, time slips away. sun sets, moon sets, love, fix a day." the note has become a factor in modern social life. we send a note when we send a gift, when we ask a favor, when we acknowledge a favor, when we offer an apology, when we postpone an engagement, and when we give, accept, or refuse an informal invitation. these forms will be given here for reference, excepting those pertaining to invitations, which are discussed in their place. notes accompanying a gift should be brief, prettily worded, and strictly confined to the subject in hand; for instance, a gentleman sending flowers to a lady might say: mr. irwin, hearing miss. st. john express a preference for roses, hopes that he may have the pleasure of seeing her wearing the accompanying cluster this evening at the opera. ashland boulevard, october d. the wearing of the flowers would be all the answer required by this note. with a birthday gift an appropriately worded note would be as follows: at home, august st. dear nettie: remembering that your birthday is at hand, i send you this little painting as a token of my love, together with wishes for many happy returns of this day. your friend, marie st. john. these little notes should always receive an answer, as, for instance, this last might be appropriately replied to thus: corson street, august . -. my dear marie: you cannot think with what delight i received your beautiful birthday gift, rendered tenfold dearer by the knowledge that it is the handiwork of my friend. with many thanks, i am, as ever, yours, nettie d. caton. notes of apology are a frequent necessity. they should be written with promptness, evince a repentant spirit, and should be acknowledged pleasantly and forgivingly. always remember in such a note to explain the cause rendering the apology necessary. for instance, an unfulfilled engagement might be apologized for thus: dear miss mason: i cannot sufficiently regret that i was unfortunately prevented from keeping my engagement to drive with you on wednesday. an important telegram, received but a moment before the time set for our "outing," left me but a brief five minutes to catch the first train for r----, where affairs, permitting no delay, awaited my attention. dare i hope that i have your pardon for so great a seeming negligence? very respectfully yours, john h. curran. this note being written in the first person will be replied to in the same manner by the recipient: mr. curran (or, dear mr. curran, according to the degree of familiarity): i accept your apology as quite sufficient, and beg that you will give yourself no further uneasiness over so unavoidable an occurrence. i am, sincerely, gertrude mason. notes of postponement are always to be sent when the necessity arises for deferring any social gathering. write them promptly, and explain the unavoidable reasons for the postponement; for example: dear mrs. briggs: it is with great regret that i inform you that our exhibition of private theatricals is indefinitely postponed on account of the sudden and serious illness of miss hope ledyard, who was the chief star of our little company. the "lady of lyons," with the "lady" left out, would be like "hamlet," with the noble dane missing, an impossible performance; and, as there was no one else so capable of filling the part as miss ledyard, we are resolved to await her recovery. your friend, elizabeth stuart. notes of request or refusal are frequently necessary, but care should be taken neither to make an unreasonable request, nor to return an unjustifiable refusal. should denial seem imperative, strive to imitate that english statesman who could refuse more gracefully than others could grant. the following examples will suffice: dear mrs. winterblossom: you remember the little picture, a sunset view, that i admired so much the other evening at your home? would you have any objection to lending it to me for a copy? should you have even a shadow of dislike toward my proposition, do not hesitate to refuse at once. so many people are averse, and justly so, to having their paintings duplicated that i feel my request almost an impertinence. believe me, truly yours, edith granger. refusal to the same: my dear miss granger: i dread to answer your note, since it must be a refusal of your request, for the little printing is the property of a friend of mine, who has left it, together with a few others, in my care during her tour in europe. the fact that she has a morbid dislike to having duplicate copies made of her pictures, forces me to deny a request that, were the painting in question mine, i would gladly grant. sincerely your friend, helen winterblossom. business letters need especial care in writing. they are to be read by men with whom time is precious and the demands upon it numerous. hence they should be brief, clearly worded and straight to the point. such a letter is much more certain of speedy attention and prompt returns than the rambling, incoherent missive of the unaccustomed writer. if you want ten yards of ribbon of a certain color and quality, say so, but do not lose the order in a maze of irrelevant matter; for instance: mendota, ill., april , -. messrs. blank & co. please send me: yards of black silk, at $ per yard $ yards of green cashmere, at c. per yard pair black kid gloves pair tan kid gloves, undressed ------ total $ enclosed find money order for the above amount. goods to be sent by american express. by filling the above order quickly as possible, you will greatly oblige, mary mcnett. address: mrs. w.d. mcnett, mendota, ill. if there is any special reason for filling an order hastily, such as a birthday gift or wedding present, mention the fact briefly, and care will be taken that it is sent in time. always make use of money order, draft or registered letter, when sending other than very small amounts of money by mail. should you have anything to say in such a letter aside from the affair in hand, attend first and briefly to the matter of business, and then add whatever remarks may seem necessary. answers to advertisements should also be concisely worded, as for example: delaware place, february , -. mrs. general channing: seeing your advertisement for a governess in to-day's "herald," i wish to inform you that i am a graduate of wellesley, and have, for the two years since being graduated, taught french and german in the college. any references which you may desire as to my efficiency for completing the education of your daughter will be furnished you by the college faculty. hoping to hear favorably from you, i am, respectfully, (miss) elizabeth stuart. a letter of inquiry might be something as follows: dr. j.h. gratiot: in making some inquiries relative to the present residence of a friend of mine, miss grace gage, a mutual acquaintance of ours, mrs. emmons b. corthell, of this place, gave me your address, suggesting that you could afford me the desired information. this being the case, would you be so kind as to send the lady's present address, or, by handing her this note, permit her personally to furnish the desired information. any communication addressed, from now on, to madison avenue, will find and greatly oblige, (miss) kate g. cox. a letter of resignation, being a rather formal document, should be worded very much as follows: _to the directors of the owatonna public library._ gentlemen: i hereby tender my resignation of the librarianship of the owatonna public library, said resignation to take effect on the ---- day of ----, -. thanking you for the kindness and thoughtfulness with which you have acceded to my wishes and requests during my late term of office, i am, respectfully, george h. graham. owatonna, minn., august , -. some don'ts and do's for letter-writers. don't write an anonymous letter; it is a cowardly stab in the dark. don't pay any attention to an anonymous letter; it is not worth your regard. don't conduct private correspondence on a postal card. many persons consider this an insult. a purely business message may be thus sent, but even then the slight saving in postage is small recompense for the delay so often attending the delivery of postal cards. don't use a postscript; it is unnecessary, old-fashioned, school-girlish, and in a particular, punctilious letter the omission of any important matter necessitates the rewriting of the entire letter rather than the use of a postscript. in very friendly letters one may be permitted to add the forgotten paragraph in the form of a postscript, omitting, however, the obsolete abbreviation, "p.s." don't write on a half-sheet of paper unless the nature of the correspondence permits the use of the ordinary business letter-head. if the note is short, write only on one side of the paper, but don't tear a sheet in half for economy's sake. the rough, torn edges, denote haste, ill-breeding, or carelessness on the part of the writer. don't use tablet paper for ceremonious letters. don't write on both sides of the paper to any but very intimate friends or relatives, they being disposed to tolerate slight departures from formality on our part. don't meddle with foreign nouns or verbs unless conversant with the language itself; incorrect and ungrammatical usage is too apt to be the unhappy result. even foreign names and titles should not be used without the exactest care as to their orthography and application. this rule should be especially remembered with reference to all matters destined to pass through hands editorial. don't erase misspelled words in letters of any moment. recopy the entire missive. don't quote too constantly. don't underscore your words, unless they express something very important. don't send enclosures in a letter written by some one else; only the greatest intimacy can excuse this practice. write your own letters and send in a separate envelope. don't write a letter in a towering passion; you would not care to have it confront you in some cooler moment. don't cross the writing in your letters. life is too short and the time and eyesight of your correspondent too precious for this. don't fill up every available blank space and margin of your letter with forgotten messages. if these are very valuable, add an extra sheet to your letter, thus saving its appearance and the patience of its recipient. don't divide a syllable at the end of a line. the printer may do this, not the letter-writer. don't fall into the habit of using long words in a letter, they show a straining after effect. one should "say," rather than "observe," "talk," rather than "converse," if one's missives are to be easy, well-bred and readable. don't refold a letter, the marks always remain to show your carelessness. fold it correctly the first time. do remember to answer all important questions in a letter clearly and decisively. do burn the great majority of your letters after answering. those that are to be kept should be filed away in packages adding date and writer's name on corner of envelope and by a word or two suggesting the topics with which they deal. this will save time in referring to them. do answer your friendly letters with reasonable promptness. to do otherwise is a breach of etiquette. an unanswered letter is an insult, a cut direct. business letters, of course, must be replied to at once. do send a postage stamp when you write a letter of inquiry, the answer to which is of interest only to yourself. a stamped and addressed envelope would be a still better enclosure. do, if you are an absent son or daughter, write home promptly and regularly; the comfort this will be to the parents at home, and the pain they suffer at any negligence on your part, cannot be overestimated. husbands and wives, when separated for a time, would do well to follow this same advice. do date your letters carefully. events and proofs of the greatest importance have hung upon the date of a single letter. do put sufficient stamps upon a letter to make sure of no extra postage falling to the lot of your correspondent. do put your address plainly in all letters. this ensures a prompt answer and, in case of miscarriage, a speedy return from the dead-letter office. do, if a business man or woman, have your address on the outside of your envelope. this will make sure of your uncalled-for letters returning to you immediately. it is well to do this in any case where a little uncertain as to the exact address of your correspondent. do read your letters over carefully before sending, that no errors may be overlooked. do give every subject a separate paragraph instead of running the whole letter, social items and sentiment, all into one indistinguishable whole. do begin the first line of each paragraph, at least, one inch from the margin, of the page. [illustration] artistic home decorations. [illustration] the greatest art work the individual has to do is the building of a home. "a small and inexpensive house may be the house beautiful," says edmund russell. a famous architect once wrote that he could furnish a plan for a house of a given size and cost without knowing whether the owner was a millionaire or a day laborer. but if he wanted a _home_ the case was different. "i desire then to know his antecedents, how he made his money, the size of his family, the number of his servants, and how his daughters spend their time: whether they are domestic, musical, literary or stylish. i want to know the number and quality of his guests, whether he drinks wine with his dinner, and his views on sanitary questions; for this home-building is not mere spending, it is the shaping of human destiny." in a home things must be beautiful and true and good, and as a celebrated art critic says, "related to us, belonging to us, expressing us at our best; our taste and culture, our personal likings, our comforts and needs, and not merely the high-tide mark of our purses." fireplaces and windows. we are all of us by nature fire worshipers and the altar of every home is, or should be, the glowing, open fire. next to this are the great, clear windows meant to admit the glorious glances of the fire worshiper's sun. as to the first, "if you can have but one, the house or the fireplace, give up the house and keep the fire. if you wish to test the soundness of this advice, build a house, furnish it extravagantly and supply furnace heat to all but one room, and in that room build upon an ample hearth a glowing fire of hickory logs, and in the presence of that genial blaze, upon the bare floor of that unfurnished room, will gather the united household." the broader this family hearth the better. the old english baronial halls with their mighty fireplaces and their great stone hearths had more of light and beauty than all our modern improvements. [illustration: artistic fireplace.] next come the broad, open windows. better one window five feet wide than two of two and a half feet. better for light, warmth or interior furnishing, and better for the illuminating effect, upon the whole apartment. stairways. stairs are a necessity, and their comfort and sightliness depend on several features. steps must be broad and deep, landings wide and windowed, if may be. if they must be crowded into a narrow hallway it is better that they be made deep and sloping as space permits, and then inclosed with an archway and curtain at foot instead of a door. this also saves heat. but where the great square reception hall can be devoted to them they may be made a thing of beauty. [illustration: the lover's tale.] woodwork. says one writer, "there is a widespread illusion gone out through the world that to have everything in a dwelling 'finished in hard wood throughout,' as the advertisements say, is the only orthodox thing. paint smells of turpentine and heresy." in this respect it is useless to deny that there is solid comfort in the permanency and genuineness of oak, walnut, or ash, that paint is powerless to give. but the natural color of woods in many cases may fail to harmonize with the scheme of color to be carried out in the furnishings of the apartment. in such case, the woodwork should be subjected to delicate, harmonious, painted tints, or polish or gilding, as the case may be. [illustration: window decoration.] there is a great variety of woods from which we may choose, but to obtain from them the finer shadings and combinations of color is difficult, not to say impossible. there is no necessity for making the woodwork that is to be painted unnecessarily substantial or elaborate. woods such as white maple, holly, poplar, for the light effects; black birch, cherry, mahogany, for darker. "one fallacy among people," says an architect, "is an immovable faith that the first duty of a human apartment is to look as high as possible. a cathedral, or the rotunda of the capitol, must have height to produce an overpowering effect. but in an ordinary room of ordinary size, comfort, convenience and prettiness are more to be sought after than height." [illustration] ordinary woodwork must be painted in such shades as will debar it from occupying the prominent position to which positive beauty is alone entitled. give it a similarity to the ground of the paper, but a little darker, and the rounded surface of any fancy moldings, a shade or two darker. paint the doors the same, except the panels, which may be decorated, in which case they must be painted the tint of the furniture as a background for the design. this may be very simple, a band of color, a vine in outline or flat color. trace the outline of wild vines, or ferns, anything graceful. originality is not demanded. there are good reasons why window casings should start from floor or base, since in this way a visible means of support is given to the entire window, which otherwise has a suspended, insecure look. the panel underneath may be of wood or plaster. doors. doors are the greatest problem in a room. they monopolize the space on the floor and wall that should be free for pictures and large articles of furniture, and otherwise completely demoralize the apartment. to do away with this inconvenience substitute heavy curtains whenever an impassable barrier is unnecessary; closet doors, for instance, and those between parlors. again, doors that are much open may be made to slide into the walls. then, for ornament and as a screen, the doorway may be furnished with hangings, costly or not, as the purse may dictate. the outer doors are intended as a defense from intrusion from without. it is not really good taste to have these doors of plate glass as that militates against the primal idea of strength and protection. a door divan. chairs and sofas we have without end in variety and beauty. every alcove and nook in every possible sort of room has been thought of and provided for except the one place that exists in almost every house and is the one place where people are always wanting to sit--that is the doorway itself. folding doors between communicating rooms are seldom closed. an ordinary chair within a few feet of the space never looks well. it shows its back to one room or the other and is in the way. a divan is an addition to any decorative arrangement of either room. it does not interfere with any graceful drapery that may be arranged at the door. it is decidedly useful, convenient and gives a certain touch of the unusual to the room. an improvised bookcase. a superfluous doorway or window too often mars the effect of a room, and the present day architecture, as found in cheap apartments and houses, frequently abounds in this sort of generosity. to surmount the difficulty a very useful inclosure can be constructed by placing two uprights and a few shelves within the door jamb, or against it, as the case may be. staining or painting them to match the rest of the woodwork is a small matter, while arranging brass rods and pretty curtains is not much more. screens. screens are a necessary object of household adornment. it is not requisite that they should be expensive, but the uses to which they can be put are legion. a plain frame of hard wood, or pine stained, rectangular, three or four inches wide and one inch thick, furnished with feet, and with or without castors, is all that is necessary. covering may be done with a great variety of materials, cheap or dear. ornamentation may be applied, embroidered, sketched, outlined, or painted. if the screen is made in two or three parts to fold like clothes bars, feet will not be necessary. a rustic fire-screen is a unique affair, handsome and useful where there are open fires, as a shield from heat in cold weather, and as a screen for the emptiness of grate or fireplace during the summer. it is formed from natural branches, two straight and two crotched ones, from which all the smaller branches and twigs have been cut away so as to have but little more than protruding knots. when these are well seasoned, rub, brush and rebrush, both with a soft brush and a stiff one, to remove from every crevice in the bark every loose particle of moss and dust. then, with liquid gold, gild the bark all over, or, if preferred, gild only the bare wood where it is exposed at the ends and where the limbs are cut off, and give a touch of gold to every crack or protuberance, or, if a smoother finish is desired, remove all of the bark and smoothly gild or enamel the whole surface. the screen, suspended from the upper crosspiece, is a fringed silk rug woven on a hand loom, as old-fashioned carpets were woven. it falls freely from the top, its own weight keeping it in place, but it might be tied to the standards--half way down and at the upper corners--with bows of braid, soft ribbon or with heavy tassel-tipped cords, or a smaller rug without fringe might be suspended by gilt rings and finished at the bottom with a row of tassels in mingled shades. in a small apartment, where the radiator is an objection, hang on the wall over it a large picture, placing before the unsightly heater a screen of not too high dimensions. if a space is too large for your picture, hang on either side a bracket, on which place a quaint jug or jar. [illustration] for a sewing-room, or, in fact, any apartment where the weekly mending is done, a darning screen is wonderfully commodious. its conveniences consist of two capacious pockets, to hold stockings or any garment fresh from the laundry and needing attention; a handy shelf whereon to place one's sewing, a tidy little cushion with scissors and loosely swung by ribbons to one side. [illustration: ornamental screen.] it is a delightful bit of property to serve one, while seated at an open window in summer time or upon an upper veranda with one's work, looking out over the sea with the perfume of flowers in the air. trim the skeleton screen to harmonize with the fittings of the room. a carpenter constructed the framework for the two panels, with the bar across the top, and the little shelf for twenty-five cents. the pine used was an old packing box. the panels must be three and one-half feet high and eighteen inches wide, made of strips three inches broad. the shelf should be eight inches wide and twelve inches long. four yards and one-half of chintz in cream-tinted ground, sprinkled with dresden nosegays gaily dashed with pink and delicate green color, eight cents a yard. four grades of delicate pink silesia and two and one-half yards of unbleached muslin for interlining, made an item of fifty cents. hinges and corners and nail-heads of brass, satin ribbon and tacks, by considerable calculation, can be pressed into the amount of seventy-five cents. a saturday morning industriously spent in the upholstery of the little screen presented it in completeness. screens can be used to protect from drafts of air, by day or night, to keep the sun from an exposed spot on the carpet, to shade the light from weary eyes, to temporarily close archways that have no doors, and to conceal a door that is not often used. they will divide a large room into two small ones when a sudden influx of company arrives, or even close in a corner for the same hospitable emergency. they make delightful nooks in sitting-rooms for the little folks' playhouse, or they may screen off, from the morning caller, a temporary sewing-room in the back parlor, and in sleeping-rooms, occupied by more than one person, a cosy dressing-room may be made by their use. draperies. the new swinging portières that have appeared have a handsome swinging crane fastened to the wall near the ceiling, upon which a portière or curtain is suspended. this can then be swung back against the wall or swung out to make a cozy corner or to shut off one portion of a room from another. these swinging portières can in many cases be made to take the place of screens and often fit with great advantage where a fixed portière of the old sort could not be used. the handsome cranes are of course more or less expensive, but a home-made substitute will answer the purpose very well. it is not exactly home-made, however, for the services of a blacksmith may have to be called in to bend the three-eighths inch iron rod into shape for use. the ends are bent to fit into screw eyes or other sockets fastened to the wall, upon which this improvised crane can be swung. the portière is suspended from the iron rod by rings. denim is one of the best of all fabrics for a portière in rooms constantly used. it may be washed out and will look quite as well as new. if you want a variety put one entire width in right side out, and split another and join to the first section, putting the side pieces wrong side out. sew the seams, then fell them and featherstitch the outside of the seams in colored linen. then with a teacup or saucer draw some circles, intersecting or lapping at one edge. work these with linen in short stitches and make eccentric lines or spider-web lines from the central design. the edges may be hemmed or featherstitched or done in buttonhole and cut out in scallops. it is better to have the edge of the facing instead of making a turned-in hem. then denim, as a floor covering, wears far better than low-cost matting and never becomes disagreeably faded; for, being made for hard usage, it but takes a quieter tone when other blues would surely fade into unpleasant, soiled-looking hues. some useful bits of furniture. a settee table of oak has an adjustable top, which can be turned over by the removal of two pegs, making a high back to the bench, whose deep seat is utilized as a household linen closet. these tables are in great demand where the saving of space is an object and come in various sizes. they can be purchased without the top and used as a window seat. one in a pretty studio of a woman artist in new york was most artistically treated. it was painted a dull green. the back and the lid of the seat were upholstered in an effective gold colored tapestry drawn over a padding of hair and held down by gimp and gilt nails, making a most artistic seat or table, as its use for either was required. another one was stained green, and on the back and lid of the seat was used natural toned burlap, with stenciled griffins in dark brown as a decoration. [illustration: a painting for home decoration.] these tables may be treated in various ways to suit their surroundings. it is suggested in _the decorator and furnisher_ that one stained the natural oak and upholstered in green rep, turcoman, corduroy, burlap or denim would be most attractive, or for green, substitute brown in the same materials and put on with dull brass nails, making an effective seat for a hall. another, painted white and enameled, would be charming in a blue and white dining-room. upholster in dark blue denim with white nails, and fill with a number of pretty pillows in various designs of blue and white, and one of vivid scarlet to give a warm touch, which is needed in these coldly decorated rooms. the lovely liberty chintzes in dark blue and white, and sometimes yellow, red and white on blue, are good to use on these settees, which are first painted black. a hanging desk. the economy of space necessary in apartment living has brought about the evolution of some remarkable pieces of furniture that may be useful in small houses anywhere. the writing desk may be included in the list of household wonders directly attributable to the necessity of fitting that most useful household article in a six by ten apartment. when closed, it really occupies the very smallest amount of room imaginable, and for the young students' use, or in flat bedrooms, where space is at a premium, it is unique and valuable. the material may be oak or such wood as one fancies. pine enameled in white or black is as good, so long as it matches the woodwork or furniture of the room. two strips of the wood, each two inches by three feet, are attached to the wall by long screws. across the top of these are placed three shelves about five inches wide, supported by brackets of brass. between the two upper ones partitions are glued in to form pigeonholes. from four to six inches from the lower end of each of the strips of wood is firmly placed a strip about two inches wide, to which is hinged the shelf that forms the desk. this is upheld when open by brass chains, and is thus made firm. when it is desired to close it, it is merely shut to the wall, the chains falling into place. the ledge upon which the lid is hinged forms a firm place for the inkstand and other necessary fitments of a desk. against the wall, between the supporting strips, may be fixed a japanese panel or some tapestry or silk, as taste may dictate. a picture can be so fastened to the panel as to form a good letter or cardholder. the whole affair is simple and easily managed. any good carpenter will make the necessary woodwork for a very small sum. a window desk. one of the most convenient and altogether satisfactory contrivances quite in the power of a woman to manipulate is a window desk. take a board about fifteen inches wide and saw it the length of the window sill. put small iron hinges on it and screw it to the sill, so that it can hang down against the under wall when desirable. tack a narrow strip of wood under the board, near the front edge. resting on the floor and wedged under this cleat there is a prop of planed wood, slender and neat looking. you can put a beading around the board, with small brads and stain it cherry or some other color. the sill holds pens, pencils and inkstands, and a large blotter laid on the board, is a most desirable writing pad. this idea comes from an art student in paris, who dotes on her window desk. it will be found useful in the nursery as a place for pasting pictures, drawings, etc., and when done can be swung down and out of the way. a hall chest. a pretty hall chest is one of the things that may be successfully produced at home. in a seaport town, the chest of some ancient mariner is easily procured; otherwise, one of similar style and make must be fashioned for you by a carpenter. as it need only be made of soft wood the cost is not great. after it has left the carpenter's hands it may be decorated with the applied ornamentation in scroll design, which is now obtainable ready to put on, and afterward treated to a coat of stain. old oak is the most satisfactory, or it may be ebonized, if preferred. polished brass corners and hinges may be added, and a row of brass nails set around the edge with good effect. the convenience of these chests for hall use has been accepted. they beautifully conceal rubbers, mackintoshes, a storm shawl and various unsightly but useful impedimenta of the hall rack, and if, in addition, a seat is desired, a strip of dark leather with a light pad beneath it may be set on with brass nails across the middle of the lid. cozy corners. they are so easy to arrange. have your carpenter make a double right-angle bench, with a high, straight back. the seat must be two and a half feet wide, and the top of the back five feet from the floor. this now looks like an ungainly three-sided square, or rather oblong, for it is better to have one side somewhat longer than the others. the wood should be stained cherry or oak, to match the other furniture in the room, and oiled and polished so as to be smooth and of rich appearance; or, use hard wood, black walnut, ebony, mahogany. the seat and inside back may be thickly and prettily upholstered, and then piled high with pillows, or, the wood having been nicely finished, the upholstery may cover the seat only. be sure and have the seat made low, otherwise the cozy corner will be uncomfortable, its name will be belied, and no one will hie to what might have been the favorite seat in the room. now, where shall we place the corner? put it in the space next to the grate fire, and since you have had this place in view, the side to fit in there should be made the requisite number of feet and inches so as to actually fit. placed in this part of the room, two sides of the corner are against the wall, but the third side presents a bare and uninviting appearance. this may be avoided by suspending a silk or gauze hanging close to its side, in the same way that the back of an upright piano is often screened. the seats should be piled with sofa pillows, and in the inclosure a few hassocks would not be found amiss. the word cozy suggests warmth and pleasantry, as well as comfort. therefore, this corner is always by the fire, and those occupying it are presumably cheery and happy. it is just the place to rest in, just the place to read in, just the place for you and your dearest friend to chat in, just the place to play a game in, as bags, balls, etc., could easily be tossed from one seat to the other; just the place to lay plans in, for you are in no hurry to move, and so your plans, not being hurriedly completed, would be more apt to prove satisfactory; just the place to nap in, just the place to frolic in. indeed, just the place to add to our already comfortable homes if we would have them one remove nearer the ideal home than they now are. plenty of pillows. all cosy corners and all couches are incomplete without numberless pillows of all sorts, shapes and sizes. a serviceable pillow, and one that can be laundered, is of blue denim, with a band of irish point embroidery running around the four sides of the square with the edge toward the center. a ruffle of denim with a narrow embroidered insertion to match the edge, completes this sensible head-rest. an indian silk pillow is always pretty, and is pleasant next to the face when one is lying down. an open-work scrim with rows of ribbon placed upon the plain stripes, made over a contrasting color of silk, with ruffle of sheer lace over the color of the pillow, is effective and bright looking. any one who is fond of an oriental effect can have it in the pillow by sewing silks and satins hit and miss, as in making an old-time rag carpet, then having it woven with black linen chain. one who is expert with crochet needle can have a creation worthy of handing down for ages to come. crochet a number of artistic wheels or medalions of knitting silk in a golden yellow shade; join together, making a square the size of the pillow desired. place this lace cover over a contrasting shade of yellow, finishing the edges with yellow silk pompons placed close together. yellow cheese cloth perfectly plain on both sides, with two ruffles of the same and a fullness of lace between, makes a dainty and inexpensive pillow; the under ruffle being six inches, lace ruffle five inches, and the top ruffle of cheese cloth three inches in width. for the woman whose tastes run to the elegant, a pillow of silk-faced velvet and satin ribbon is grateful. a novel pillow is the clover pillow, but to carry out the idea as originally designed one must await the coming of the season when clover is at its fullest and sweetest blossom. then gather the large red clover heads. take as many as would fill a large washtub, sprinkle a pound of fine salt over them, and stir them well, about once a day, until they are thoroughly dried, without falling to pieces. this is the filling for a pillow made of white linen duck, embroidered with a straggling design of clover. the convenient and ornamental floor pillow is especially adapted for the summer home, the piazza, the lawn or the lounging-room. the frame, which is made of good springs enclosed in a strong linen covering, is on casters, and can be readily moved from place to place. covered with bagdad stripes, tapestry, or any artistic material, it makes a christmas present that would please the most fastidious taste. a corner closet. lack of closet room in a house is a fruitful theme for complaint in these days of contracted space. architects there are who are willing to sacrifice every consideration, not excepting internal utility, for picturesque outside effects. in such cases recourse must be had to wardrobes, but as these are expensive, the busy fingers of the housewife must be depended upon to improvise substitutes. if there is a corner in the room with sufficient space (sometimes the architect denies us this small boon) it may be utilized in the manner herewith described. two strips of wood as long as you desire and four inches wide by one inch thick are screwed in the angle of the wall about six feet from the floor; boards are cut off to fit in the corner and resting on these strips; this will form the roof. a brass or wooden rod is then run across the front of this board from wall to wall and from which the curtain is suspended by rings. cretonne, chintz or printed cotton, will make a good list to choose from, and are inexpensive. one may screw upon the underside of the roof and on the cleats as many hooks as are required, and, if desired, a shelf may be introduced about fifteen inches below the roof, and on that attach the hooks. such an emergency closet will often be found a great convenience, and the cost will be trifling. it will be well to stretch a piece of muslin or paper across the upper side of the roof to keep out the dust. [illustration: replica of a grecian vase.] a home-made japanese cabinet may be readily made of the common materials found about the house, such as boxes of hard or soft wood. the smoother the boxes, the better; but they can be planed, if they are not. the shelves are so arranged as to accommodate the different sizes of japanese bric-à-brac. the small cabinet in the upper left-hand corner is simply a smooth bit of the board, finished with two ornamental hinges, either brass or bronze. the escutcheon is of the same. the circular panel can be either of lincrusta, bronzed, or to make it a little more unique, a circular hole can be cut in the door, and a pretty blue japanese plate inserted, held in place at the back, and the door lined. the supports are easily obtained by a visit to a factory where they have a turning lathe. the ornamental finish at the bottom is of lightly carved wood, if one can do these things, or a strip can be purchased at a carpenter shop or wall paper store. still another way out of the difficulty is to get just the length of lincrusta and tack it on neatly. before the hinges and escutcheon are put on, the staining should be done, and the simplest way out of the difficulty is to purchase pik-ron, stain whatever color or wood you require, then afterward give it a coat of varnish, coach varnish giving a durable finish that is heavy and beautiful, or the whole cabinet may be covered with the stamped japanese cotton goods in gilt and colors, each shelf being covered before being put in place, and the uprights gilded or stained. still again, if the work is of pine, it may be stained a rich bronze, and left with dead finish, which is a very fair imitation of japanese woodwork. piano decoration. an upright piano should be placed with its back to the room. this position is not only good from a decorative standpoint, but a performer likes to be shielded by the instrument. here are enumerated various graceful ways to cover the polished bareness of this musical instrument. to hang a square of tapestry over the back from a brass rod is exceedingly striking. if possible, let the painted subject relate to music or sentiment, and have it sufficiently large to cover the surface of the piano. if the tapestry is very fine work its surface should be unspoiled by additions. across the top of the piano lay a scarf of liberty silk, or another painted panel. the only bric-à-brac that combines with this drapery is a pair of candelabra, the quainter in style the better. algerian stripes, bagdad tapestry or persian prints make good backgrounds. their cost is $ . a yard, and width fifty inches. with this as a foundation many schemes may be carried out. bas-relief heads in plaster can be swung on it without injuring the wood of the piano. medallions of beethoven, mozart or wagner can be purchased for $ each. a long panel of cherubs goes well, or a line of delft or japanese plates. a low settle has a comfortable resting place underneath this. either a box seat upholstered in dark, contrasting stuff, or one of the $ . green wooden settles, sold to artists, would serve. a number of cushions placed on the seat against the piano add to the coziness and grace of the decoration. lighting. rooms should be lighted from the sides, if possible. the great central chandeliers, casting their downward shadows, age every face in the room by emphasizing every line, and bringing out every defect sharply. decorating. in decorating a room a harmony of the shades of one color should be used. beware of spotty effects. it should really, according to edmond russell, "be conceived, as a piece of music is, in a certain key. there should be sympathy and harmony. even the pictures should be chosen with as much regard to their surroundings as to their individual merits." another important item in the decoration of the home is considering the choice of ground tones with reference to the complexion of its hostess. guests appear there but casually. she is always there, and no one should elect to occupy a room, whose color tones either totally efface what little color one may possess, or else, by an exaggeration of natural ruddiness, be made a rival of the setting sun. the effect of color upon the appearance is so important that every change of color, changes not only the color of the skin, but that of the hair and eyes as well. edmond russell once studied a room with reference to complexions, mixing his paints to a relative hue with the general tone of complexions, making it duller and grayer, so that standing near it the skin looked clear and fresh beside it. "i made the tone," he said, "a little greener and colder than flesh, so that one looked lighter and warmer and was enriched by the contrast. any who stood in front of that wall looked five or ten years younger than they were." in using a flower, or other design, for a frieze or dado, they should be conventionalized. this term is used to signify the modification of a real object with its surroundings. the more formal they are the better; no attempt at shading or perspective is necessary, and the square and compass should be used as much as possible in their designing. in decorating a room, a dark floor is the beginning, and the walls grow lighter as the ceiling is approached. the richest effects should be congregated at the mantel, with the fire as its central object. "the ability to combine is a rare one." ruskin writes truly that, "one rarely meets even an educated person who can select a good carpet, a wall paper, and a ceiling, and have them in harmony." there is too much of a temptation to adopt beautiful things simply because they are beautiful, without pausing to consider the weightier matter of their eternal fitness, or remembering that a thing intrinsically beautiful in itself may become hideous by inharmonious proximity or combination with another beautiful object. home of the soul. a mystic german writer calls a house, properly ordered, the "home of the soul," carrying out the idea that the house in which an orderly soul lives, is only an expansion of the body built and adorned out of her passing experiences. "all sorts of delicate affinities establish themselves between her and the lights and shadows of her abode; the particular picture on the wall; the scent of flowers at a particular window until she seems incorporated into it." in other words, one's environments, as one's dress, must be in harmony with their individual type, or a permanent discord will result; for instance, emma moffett tyng speaks of a "pond-lily type of woman, soft color, gray blue eyes, pale brown eyes," appealing to her as to the "effect" of the gorgeous, redecorated interior of her home, with flames of color in hangings and rugs, and "her egyptian gown with its glow and glint of purple and gold. all these things were artistic and beautiful, and perfect in their relations to each other," but in their relation to her nothing could have been worse. the woman, herself, was eclipsed, obliterated. "a cleopatra, dark and flashing, would make the picture complete. but such a colorless woman needs repose in her surroundings; the low tones of blue and gray, the palest flush of the sunset heavens." some lovely rooms. edmond russell has treated two rooms exquisitely. a gold and ivory parlor, tinted, walls and ceiling in a grayish white with a greenish tinge, and this is mottled with gold flecked lightly over the surface. the broad frieze is adorned in free, simple style with leaves and blossoms of magnolia. everything in this room should be light and delicate in color. the soft gold and ivory would be nullified by heavy walnut window casings; red and green carpet, red or blue plush furnishings, or vivid hangings would ruin the effect. pictures in such a room should be preferably water-colors with pale gray mats, and gold or white frames. oil paintings are only permissible when dreamy and vaporous in tint. light, delicate colors in upholstery, creamy madras for curtains. the carpet may be a little darker, verging on some of the delicate, woody browns. any bric-à-brac should be in pale shades of yellow or rose. the tender lights of this room seem to clear and soften the complexion of the occupants. another is a dining-room of copper, bronze and terra cotta shades. a pale tint of copper to the background overlaid with dashes of bronze and strong copper color. the frieze is a succession of pine boughs, lightly fringed with their needles. above the sideboard is a panel representing magnolia blossoms, and their heavy polished leaves, with brown in stem and shadows. the effect of this color scheme is to give a suggestion of warmth and cheer. the gold and copper used in flecking the wall are merely the two shades of the common bronze powder. [illustration: rich pieces of furniture.] still another nest of a sleeping-room comes to mind, a creation of moscheles. floor covered with white bearskin rugs, furnished with a delicate tint of robin's-egg blue. toilet table strewn with every imaginable luxury in old ivory and silver. panels in the wardrobe and doors filled with paintings by burne-jones, classic figures given the preference. these rooms are given as examples of harmony of coloring. great expense is not always necessary to secure this artistic harmony. money goes a long way, but good taste and ingenuity will go just as far, with a minimum of expenditure. there is a little room, a symphony in green and gold, created by one girl's taste, a pale seafoam green that is delightful to the eye. the woodwork, banded with a narrow strip of gilt, is of this color, and the enterprising young woman painted it all with her own hands. the curtains at the three windows are of the freshest and purest white muslin, prettily ruffled. they are the kind that always look as if they had just been laundered and they are tied back with pale green ribbons that make them look the more exquisitely neat. the floor is covered with plain matting, which particularly recommended itself, by the way, because it was inexpensive. as to furniture. every article of furniture in the room is of the prevailing green and there are no off shades, for they were all painted from the same can of paint. the bedstead was nothing but common pine, made to order at the factory, and it is of a quaint design that originated in the same fertile brain that is responsible for all the rest of the perfect appointments. the headboard is in the shape of a shield and there is painted thereon a spray of wild roses to bring to the sleeper over whom they bend sweet dreams of perpetual summer time. and the white counterpane and snowy pillows in the setting of green and gold make it a most inviting place of repose. the chairs were resurrected from the débris in the family attic. there are two heavy old-fashioned ones of curly maple, and they are cushioned with a brocaded green and gold material that exactly match the green of the furniture. then there is a comfortable little rocking chair cushioned with the same material and painted in green with many stripes of gold. but it is the dressing table that is the most charming of all the unique devices that make the room attractive. it was a battered old washstand at first, but now it is a work of art. it is painted, of course, in green and gilt, and there is a spray of wild roses on the front. above it is a green and gilt framed mirror with a spray of the favorite wild roses again overhanging the top part. over mirror and washstand and all is draped a canopy of white muslin. among the other articles that find place on the table is a little fairy lamp with a shade of green tissue paper that gives the softest light imaginable. a comfortable green window seat in the corner is well supplied with pillows covered in green and gold brocade, and up and around the window there clambers an old english ivy. there is an oddly fashioned bookcase in another corner. you would never guess it, of course, but it was constructed out of two dry goods boxes. it is painted green inside and out and fitted up with four shelves. a green silk curtain hangs from a brass rod, and about the edge of the bookcase is a gilt cornice. the top is covered with bric-à-brac. for pictures there is an etching or two on the wall in green and gold frames, and you have a room the very sight of which is cool and refreshing, and which cost its owner some time and some planning, but very little money. pictures. be careful of the pictures and their relations to the walls. rooms should rather be a setting for a beautiful moving picture of the shifting groups of people in it. too much gilding, too many gaudy oil paintings attract the eye and distract the mind. there is a simple picture in my room, red curtains, a white-robed child kneeling, that is all, but everything in it harmonizes, and it harmonizes with the furnishings of the room, and my eye is often drawn toward it. one authority objects to portraits as a decoration. "their presence, if at all impressive, is too stimulating." picture frames should never be so gorgeous as to distract the mind from the picture. "frames are to protect the picture and relate it to the walls." group etchings together and put engravings in the portfolio. over low bookcases pictures should be large, and in this form they give a style to the room. water colors look admirable if treated in this manner, and if two bookcases are put together so as to form one, divide the pictures by a bracket, on which place a jar of some unique pattern. [illustration: selecting paintings for home decoration.] small rooms require medium-size pictures, which can be hung one above the other, and three may even be placed on line with good effect. for an ideal head in oil the frame should be of broad gilt. hang it in a good light, and on one side group two small water-color pieces in the fashionable white band frame. for an oblong picture a small sketch under it looks well equipped. a very large and beautiful picture sometimes sets the keynote of color for the apartment. otherwise, subordinate them as decorations to the colorings of the room, as in the ivory and gold room. in a room where there are to be many pictures, give rather a neutral color to the walls, merely as a picture background. where there are finely decorated walls pictures are rather out of place, since one decoration spoils the effect of the other. mottoes. the motto, whose revival is noted in the above title, is the expression in architecture of some sentiment suitable to the place to which it is applied. it is more frequently and more noticeably in domestic architecture than elsewhere that the motto is found. scarcely a country house of sufficient size to boast a hall and fireplace but announces in script or text a welcome to all guests or some appreciation of the comforts of its four walls. the favorite place for this motto is over the fireplace, either above or below the mantel shelf, and of all the old ones, "east or west, home is best," with its variety of expressions, is the favorite. "a man's house is his castle." "home is the resort of love, of joy, of peace." "a man's best things are nearest him;" "our house is ever at your service;" "you are very welcome;" "take the goods the gods provide thee"--any one of these will as appropriately welcome the stranger as the friend. over the mantel of one's private room the restful motto, "duty done is the soul's fireside," may find appropriate place. how to be beautiful. [illustration] to begin at the beginning: to insure a good complexion strict attention must be paid to the diet. wholesome, well-cooked food must be eaten; regular exercise in the open air is another point, and the body must be bathed three hundred and sixty-five times a year. it may be considered almost supererogatory to remark that not any amount of cerates, washes or powders will cover or obliterate blotches, pimples and blackheads caused by unwholesome food or uncleanly habits. we may not be able to afford elegantly-appointed bath-rooms, but we all can indulge in a daily bath. a quick and simple method for the busy housekeeper, which need only occupy a few moments, is as follows: buy a yard of coarse turkish toweling, and make of it two mittens. have a bowl of warm water, in which dissolve some borax. this is soothing to tired nerves, besides rendering the skin soft and white. when ready, slip on one of the mittens, wet it thoroughly, rub well with soap, and quickly wash the body all over. all the impurities of the body are now on this mitten. lay it to one side. put on the other mitten, and wash the body again. the mittens may be washed and hung to dry, ready for the next bath. rub the skin briskly with a rough towel until it glows. if this treatment is followed daily, with a tub-bath weekly, you will not complain of those tired, nervous headaches, your face will lose its sallowness, and your walk will gain in sprightliness. here let us say, for the benefit of those who are obliged to live in rented houses, or who have no facilities for a bath-room, that a folding bathtub is now offered. it folds up somewhat after the manner of a folding bed. when closed it looks like a cabinet, and is nicely finished in oak. in connection with it is a tank and heating apparatus. the water may be heated with gas, kerosene or gasoline. lemon juice, diluted, is a famous whitener for the skin, as are all vegetable acids, such as tomato, cucumber and watermelon. oftentimes something is needed to heal as well as whiten. for this, take two tablespoonfuls of oatmeal and cook it with enough water to form a thin gruel, strain, and when cool add to two tablespoonfuls of the gruel one tablespoonful of lemon juice. wash the face with this at night, allowing it to dry on the skin. this is excellent for a shiny face. another very soothing preparation to use at night is made of one ounce of glycerine, half an ounce of rosemary (fluid), and twenty drops of carbolic acid. this is excellent for any irritation of the skin, and also for prickly heat. the face must always be well washed with water and pure soap before applying any of these preparations. if the skin is oily, bathe with diluted camphor (a teaspoonful to a pint of water), but it is injurious to a naturally dry skin. treatment for a rough skin. a wash for a rough face is two ounces of water, one ounce of glycerine, one ounce of alcohol, and half an ounce of gum of benzoin, to be dissolved in the alcohol first. apply at night. for wrinkles--do we see some of you looking interested?--take some clippings of sheep's wool and steep in hot alcohol. it is said that the grease thus obtained is identical with an element found in the human bile. i know that if rubbed on the skin it not only removes but prevents wrinkles, making the skin soft and pliable. these remedies all have the merit of being harmless, which cannot be said of all cosmetics. let us give one more recipe, and that is for brightening the eyes. when you are tired and warm, and your eyes are dull, take a cloth and wring it out of very hot water, as hot as you can bear it. lie down for ten minutes with this cloth spread over your burning face and tired eyes. you will be surprised to see how the tired lines will fade out and how the eyes will shine, and when your "dearest" comes home he will pay you a compliment which will more than reward you. reducing flesh. the real mode of life and diet should be changed if the fat would be reduced. if necessary, procure a pair of scales and weigh the different foods that are taken into the system. reduce the diet then to about four ounces of starch or sugar material per day, one and a half ounces of fat, taken chiefly in the form of butter, and about six or seven ounces of albuminous food, such as lean meat or fish. this is the minimum that should be resorted to, and the patient can take more of each at first and reduce the diet gradually to this point. the proportion of the different food compounds, however, with the exception of figs, dates, grapes and nuts, should also be eaten daily, and one-third of a pound of some of the following vegetables: asparagus, turnips, cucumbers, parsley, watercress, celery, kale or cabbage. fluids have a fattening tendency, and they must be taken in small quantities. the drinking should be confined to tea, coffee or water, and never should be taken at mealtime, nor within one hour of a meal. this is peremptory, for food will produce fat much quicker and surer when watered by some good beverage. refreshing sleep. what is the correct method to pursue in preparing for a trip into dreamland, for there is a right as well as a wrong way? the business of disrobing should be so systematized that attending to all the little niceties included in the process will become, after a while, second nature. there is something more to be done, let us assure you, in addition to putting your hair up in curl-papers and dabbing a bit of cold cream on your face, if you would wake up in the morning looking as fresh as a rose. in the first place, do not put off these important preparations until you are so heavy-lidded that you are ready to give everything belonging to the toilet the go by. and now for the first step. early in the evening your sleeping apartments should be thoroughly aired by dropping the window from the top and raising it at the bottom. the current of fresh air is especially important when the room has been, as so many sleeping apartments are, in constant use all day. ten minutes will be quite sufficient for toning up the atmosphere. now close the window and allow the room to become thoroughly warmed, that you may not experience a chill while taking a rub down. prepare a big bowl of tepid water, into which you sprinkle a small quantity of ammonia or borax. take a turkish towel, which is much better than a sponge, wring it out as dry as possible, and, grasping a corner in each hand, give the spine a vigorous rubbing. have at hand another turkish towel, and as you bathe the body in sections, dry as quickly as possible. from the points of your rosy toes to the curve of your soft throat you are a blushing model of the charming effects of the bath. when finished, slip over your head a soft little shirt, high neck and short sleeves (a white silk or lisle thread is the best), the rosy skin beneath giving it the appearance of being lined with pink silk. then comes the nightrobe, and next the pajama or lounging robe, which may be of anything, from flannel to eider down. tuck your feet into a pair of bedroom slippers, and you are ready to attend to minor details. never think of retiring in any article of clothing which you have worn during the day. such a barbarous custom has nothing whatever in common with health and refinement. neither is it well to discard everything but your nightgown, for it is exceedingly dangerous to chill the system by night draughts. how to take care of the eyes. avoid sudden changes from darkness to brilliant light. avoid the use of stimulants and drugs which affect the nervous system. avoid reading when lying down or when mentally and physically exhausted. when the eyes feel tired rest them by looking at objects at a long distance. pay special attention to the hygiene of the body, for that which tends to promote the general health acts beneficially upon the eye. do not depend on your own judgment in selecting spectacles. old persons should avoid reading much by artificial light, be guarded as to diet and avoid sitting up late at night. after fifty, bathe the eyes morning and evening with water so hot that you wonder how you stand it; follow this with cold water that will make them glow with warmth. do not give up in despair when you are informed that a cataract is developing; remember that in these days of advanced surgery it can be removed with little or no danger to vision. never read in bed or when lying upon the sofa. sit with your back to the light as much as possible. attend to your digestion. do not work longer than two hours without closing your eyes and resting them for five minutes. if your eyes are weak, bathe them in water to which a little salt and a little brandy have been added. the hair and how to take care of it. if the hair has that soft, glossy look that tells of regular care, and if it is well kept, with every pin in its place, you may rely upon it that its owner possesses the instinct of ladyhood. each hair has tiny prongs or tentacles, something like those on the cockle bur, which catch the dust; hence the especial need of brushing. at a lady's school in england, some twenty years ago, the girls were required to brush their hair for fifteen minutes daily in the long dressing-room, and they were timed at this exactly as if it were any other exercise. occasionally the hair and the scalp need washing, as the face, though less often if the brushing be carefully attended to. when, however, it begins to seem dirty, give it a good shampooing. wash both hair and scalp thoroughly in a washbowl of warm water in which has been dissolved a tablespoonful of powdered borax; then rinse it well in clear warm water; you will be surprised sometimes at the complexion of the water. many women dread the shampooing because of their liability to take cold in the process. let such a person choose a room where the air is warm and dry. after wiping the hair thoroughly dry with towels, and pinning a fresh one around the neck and shoulders, let her get some one to come and make a breeze with a large palm-leaf fan upon her hair while she is engaged in carefully disentangling it with a brush and comb, occasionally giving the scalp a little vigorous rubbing if it begins to feel chilly. the fanning greatly hastens the drying process. another plan is to lie down with the hair spread out on cushions in the sunshine. be sure to get it thoroughly dry before putting it up. an excellent head covering. a very pleasant step, though not a necessary one, next to take is to have a little thin silk mob-cap (of some pretty shade of silk, so that it is becoming rather than disfiguring, if needful, to wear about the home), lined, and thickly wadded with cotton-batting, well powdered with heliotrope or some other delicate sachet powder (these come in ten or fifteen-cent packages), and wear this from one to three hours. here, again, those thousands of minute tentacles come into play; they catch and retain (one would almost think they close over them) the atoms of the perfume when they are thus freed from dust, and when the hair is soft and light in its new cleanness--and it is astonishing for how long a time the hair will retain that faint, delicate aroma which is so truly lovely in a woman's hair; and all to be obtained in so simple and innocent a way as with this little mob-cap, put on at the right time. a good rule for ensuring the regular brushing of the hair, which may be taught to children (and perhaps good for busy women also), is to brush the hair with fifty long strokes both at morning and at night. much also depends upon the brush. let it not be stiff enough to hurt the scalp. choose a brush of medium stiffness, with bristles long and close together, and nowhere will it pay better, "in the long run," to give a good price for a good article than in a woman's hairbrush which she proposes to use as described above. do not use a fine-tooth comb. frequent washing will remove the dandruff in all cases, and without the injury caused to the scalp by the fine comb. it is also well to clip the ends of the hair regularly once a month, keeping it smooth and even, besides, as is thought by some stimulating the growth and keeping it in a more healthy condition. perseverance in this treatment will give the hair a fine natural gloss, and a healthy tone. it will tend to prevent its falling out, and will also help to preserve its natural color much longer than if it were neglected. "show me a woman," said a wise matron the other day, "though she be in the busiest farmer's kitchen in america, who may always be found with her hair neatly and carefully arranged and with a fresh linen collar, and i will show you a lady in mind and manners. those two points always settle the rest in my opinion!" recipe for the complexion. a mixture for preserving the complexion, easily made at home, is as follows: take a wineglassful of the best french orange flower water. add a tiny pinch of carbonate of soda and two teaspoonfuls of glycerine. melt a piece of camphor the size of a pea and three teaspoonfuls of cologne water and add to the orange flower water. shake the whole for five minutes. apply to the face every night. care of the lips. the cupid's bow in dainty curves has always been symbolical of a perfect mouth, and lips most kissable have never been represented as other than pink and perfect. no other portion of the face, however, so quickly responds to symptoms of ill-health in the body as do the lips. fever blisters are the disfiguring reminders of a cold; dry, broken or bloodless lips show that one is out of sorts, even more certainly than heavy eye or dejected mien, and it is a woman's duty to endeavor to restore them to their soft, rich redness, which is the outward and visible sign of good health. to do this the general system must be toned up, diet regulated, and a regular house-cleaning gone into; but there are certain defects of the lips that can be overcome without all this trouble, because they arise from a woman's own fault. many of us, from nervousness, or habit, have a way of biting our lips which will surely result in swelling, bruise or dryness that is both uncomfortable and unpleasant to look at. therefore, the first step is to break off so pernicious a practice by watching one's self very carefully. next, anoint the poor, bruised members with some healing salve of a pure make. do not, however, think to cure chapped lips by anointing them after being out in the air. the time for treatment is before the mischief is done, putting on a little cold cream every time you start out for a walk, which you will find highly beneficial and will keep your lips in winter just as sweet and rosy as when the milder zephyrs of summer rule the air. remedies for the lips. a writer whose knowledge of such subjects is beyond question says that glycerine and rose water should never be used to soften the lips, as this remedy has one great drawback, namely, that it induces the growth of superfluous hair, a warning which all women will gladly heed, for no one desires to pose as a bearded lady. when cold sores appear rub them with cold cream, being careful not to break them, and they will soon disappear. the reason that they usually cling so long is, that they are tampered with by rubbing or biting, and therefore cannot have a chance to heal properly, as they would if left alone. the same writer who warns us against glycerine and rose water is a strong advocate of hot water, and affirms that there is scarcely any ailment that will not succumb to its healing virtues. therefore, with cold cream and hot water one should be able to present to the world a pair of rosy lips free from any unsightly blemishes. smoothing out the wrinkles. wrinkles are, of course, the special detestation of every woman, and when they begin to make their appearance, one of the most perplexing questions is as to how they can be removed, or at least the evil hour of their coming be put off for a time. there has recently been a good deal of nonsense printed in various channels as to this subject, and one of the most cherished fads is that the steaming of the face will remove them. this is one of those half-truths which are simply deceit and disappointment. wrinkles appear because the fine muscles of the face lose their tone, the tissue shrinks, and the skin fits itself to the depressions which are thus left. it is a mistake to suppose that wrinkles can be wholly eradicated, especially those which are due to advancing years. let us "grow old gracefully" and accept the inevitable with the best grace possible. a cheerful disposition will do wonders toward lighting up the face and making one's friends forget or overlook entirely the signs of advancing years. but wrinkles frequently come on prematurely, and prove extremely vexatious. it is unquestionably true that a proper, thorough and careful course of face massage will do a good deal to help things, where the skin has become dull and lifeless, as will especially happen in cases of general decline or ill health. from two to four times during each twenty-four hours the face should be gently but systematically rubbed, the best method being to employ a fine towel or a bit of red flannel. the finger ends answer very well, but it is quite difficult to use them without weariness. it will be noticed after a few days that the skin is gaining in tone and vigor, when the degree of vigor employed may properly be increased. bad air is one of the most potent causes of wrinkles and the remedy, of course, is the getting of good air. excellence of the highest degree may not be attainable; if not, let us get the best we can. with good air should come good living and plenty of nutritious food, especially that which has fat-producing qualities. massage of the face is well recommended, using a light, gentle, circular motion of the fingers, while much may be done by cultivating flexibility and voluntary motions of the muscles of the face, especially those affecting the wrinkled portions. and it may not be amiss, though it be a delicate matter, to suggest that an overworked, thankless, hopeless life will inevitably wrinkle the fairest face with furrows that no agency this side of the grave can remove, till the cause shall have been lifted. the feminine waist. we have already had occasion to discuss the question of small waists and the abuse of proportions that tight-lacing frequently entails. we have only to consider now the caprices of fashion with regard to length. sometimes this fickle goddess sends our waists up under our arms, and then a reaction sets in, and they lengthen gradually till the points and basques of our bodices reach very nearly to our knees. of the two extremes, the more sanitary, as well as the more artistic, is the former, but these considerations have little effect on the arrangements of fashion. the weight of clothing should hang as little as possible from the waist. many women believe that it is better that it should come from the hips than from the shoulders, but the testimony of all medical men is clear and indisputable on this subject. nor is it upon hygienic grounds alone that this is objectionable. this weight from the hips destroys all freedom of movement, just as the tight corset deprives the body of all the suppleness and flexibility given it by nature. the belt is, on a perfect figure, an interruption to harmonious lines that could well be dispensed with. on an imperfect figure it is excusable, when associated with a form of bodice that seems to require to be confined, such as the loosely plaited or gathered bodice sometimes worn. over a tight bodice the belt has no reason for being, and is absurdly out of place. for this and also sanitary reasons we feel inclined to condemn it. beautiful arms. beautiful arms are a powerful weapon in the armory of beauty; but though most women appreciate to the full the charm of this possession, the fact remains that in america undeveloped arms are the rule, and rounded, dimpled symmetry the exception. lately, however, the gymnasium is producing charming arms. exercise is essential to the development of the arms: exercise, that is, of the arms themselves. gymnastic exercises that bring the muscles of these into play should be, as far as possible, encouraged in girls, as tending not only to their improvement in this particular, but as being beneficial to the general health. arms disproportionately large as compared to the rest of the frame are, on the other hand, at least equally disagreeable with those we have been discussing. very large arms carry with them a suggestion of coarseness that is unpleasant as associated with a woman. it is, as we have said before, impossible to give the exact proportions which one portion of the human frame should bear to the rest. the ideal arm, however, should gradually decrease in size from the shoulder to the wrist, the outlines being marked by those inward curves which are also noticeable in well-formed shoulders. the wrist should be slender without being thin, the bone at the outer side being well covered and indicated rather by dimples than otherwise. there is an old rule for measurement that approaches accuracy in some degree. we give it for what it may be worth, advising our readers not to pin their faith to it too implicitly. twice round the thumb, once round the wrist; twice round the wrist, once round the neck; twice round the neck, once round the waist. the roundest arms in the world fail to be beautiful if they are red. there are beautiful white arms, brown arms, copper-colored arms, and even black arms, but beautiful red arms are not. this fault is seldom to be found with the arms of ladies, which are so constantly kept covered as to be protected from the influences of weather. it is characteristic of a cook, a dairymaid, a housemaid, a field-hand, to have red arms, and it is probably from this association that they have fallen into such extreme disrepute. the use of violet-powder may be condoned when it modifies the contrast between red arms and white evening dresses. the application being only temporary, it can only very slightly affect the well-being of the pores, but it should be very carefully used, or it will come off on the coat sleeves of the partners of the red-armed one. when the arms are very thin the sleeves should not be too tight, though, as a rule, thin arms do not look at all badly in tight sleeves. when the arms are too long, their apparent length may be diminished by crossway trimmings on the sleeve. when, on the contrary, the arms are disproportionately short, a lengthwise trimming will remedy the defect. the sleeve of to-day is a blessing in disguise for ladies with thin arms. the leg-of-mutton (_gigot_) sleeve was invented to conceal defects in the arm, and to make the waist appear small by contrast with the size of the sleeves. puffs at the shoulder give grace and delicacy to the neck and head. the pagoda sleeves, copied from the chinese, being wide and open, cause the hands to appear smaller by contrast with the aperture from which they emerge; but when the sleeve is exaggeratedly large and wide, the effect of the contrast is lost, the sleeve losing itself in, and mingling with, the rest of the draperies. the epaulette worn some years ago is useful as giving width to narrow shoulders. the louis xv., or _sabot_ sleeve, tight to the elbow, and ending in a frill of lace, is perhaps the most becoming of all sleeves to a really pretty arm, while the sleeve open to the shoulder is the most trying to a defective outline. treatment for the hands. the hands of growing girls are often red and clumsy, and girls who are beginning to take thought of their appearance are sometimes in despair about them, not being aware that they will grow whiter and whiter with every year. the ideal hand is white, certainly, but not dead white. it should have a dash of healthy flesh-tints. the tips of the fingers and the portions that surround the palm should be tinged with pink. the fingers should taper towards the nails, the most approved shape for which is the "filbert," so called from its resemblance to the oval form of the nut of that name, and the similarity of the direction of the lines of the nail to those on the wood of the nut. scissors and nail-brush. the appearance of white spots on the nails is caused by knocks or blows. to obviate the appearance of such spots the hands must be taken care of and the nails disturbed as little as possible. when the nails become stained or discolored, a little lemon juice is the best agent to employ as a corrective. it is equally valuable in discoloration of the skin. the care of the nails, should be strictly limited to the use of the knife or scissors to their free border, and of the ivory presser to their base, to prevent the adhesion of the free margin of the scarf-skin to the surface of the nail and its forward growth upon it. the edge of scarf-skin should never be pared, nor surface of the nail ever scraped, nor should the nails be cleaned with any instrument whatever except the nail-brush. there is no rule for the management of the nail of greater importance than that which prescribes the pressing back of the edge of the scarf-skin which forms the boundary of the base of the nail. this margin is naturally adherent to the surface of the nail, and has a tendency to grow forward with it and become ragged and attenuated. when allowed to do so, the ragged edge is apt to split up into shreds, and these projecting from the surface, are pulled and torn, and often occasion a laceration of the skin and a painful wound. the occurrence of these little shreds, denominated _agnails_, may be effectually prevented by the regular use of the presser once or twice a week. it must be used with gentleness. the following is said to be an excellent preparation for making the hands white; and as it cannot possibly injure them, we give it a place here. take as much scraped horseradish as will fill a tablespoon; pour on it half-a-pint of hot milk. use it before washing, allowing it to dry on the hands before applying the water. redness and chapping are sometimes caused by the hands being imperfectly dried. the greatest care should be taken in drying them, more especially in cold weather, and when the hands are exposed to cold winds. if the hands become rough from any cause, the following may be applied with good effect: half fill a basin with fine sand and soap-suds, as hot as can be borne. brush and rub the hands thoroughly with hot sand. the best is flint sand, or the powered quartz sold for filters. it may be used repeatedly by pouring the water away and adding fresh. rinse the hands in a warm lather of fine soap, then clean cold water. while they are still wet, put into the palm of each hand a very small piece of almond cream and rub it all over them. this, again, forms a strong lather. after drying the hands, rub them in dry bran or powdered starch till every atom of moisture is absorbed, and finish by dusting off the bran or starch. this will make the hands very soft and smooth. to cure burning of the skin. occasionally the hands and face become red and flushed while the feet are cold. this very uncomfortable state of things may be effectually remedied by bathing the feet in hot water with a tablespoonful of kretol in it. this will frequently be found an immediate cure for headache, but must not be attempted just before going out in cold or damp weather. a simple remedy is to wash the face and hands in very warm water, as hot as can be borne. this will frequently dispel the burning sensation and induce a cooler condition of the skin. a slice of raw potato rubbed well into them will remove stains from the fingers and hands. lemon juice is also effective in this way, and, if not used immoderately, may be applied without fear of evil consequences. for chapped hands and lips the following will be found efficacious: equal quantities of white wax (wax candle) and sweet oil; dissolve in these a small piece of camphor; put it in a jam crock, and place it upon the hob till melted. it must be kept closely covered. it should be applied to the hands after washing, and previous to drying them. a few drops of glycerine poured into the palms of the hands after washing, and rubbed all over them before drying with a towel, is perhaps the best and simplest remedy for chapping; but if good soap is always used, and the hands well dried and protected by warm gloves against the cold, the chapping will be prevented, which is preferable to the very best cures. remedy for chilblains. chilblains may be cured very speedily by rubbing into them morning and evening as much spirits of turpentine as they will absorb. this must not be applied to broken chilblains, but if taken in time it will prevent their breaking. the water in which potatoes have been boiled is an excellent remedy for chilblains on feet or hands. these members should be put into the water while it is as hot as can be borne. the same specific applies equally to what are called "whitlows," or "felons" a gathering in the region of the finger-nail that is extremely painful, and to which some are constitutionally liable. when the feet are large, the owners should never be tempted into wearing any but the very plainest boots and shoes. ornamentation of any kind makes the foot look larger. even a pretty foot looks its best in a perfectly plain satin slipper, with only a small rosette with buckle on the toe. this rosette must not, however, be permitted to the large foot. it may, certainly, be worn on the place intended for the instep, when that ornamental rise in the outline of the foot is totally absent. lines of white stitching on the boot make it look larger than it really is. the best boot for a large foot is one in which the toe-cap comes well up on the foot. its lines are thus broken up, and the apparent length diminished. a pretty foot, on the contrary, looks better in a boot that has no toe-cap, the "upper" of which is made all in one. this displays to advantage the beautiful outline of the foot, and the gentle but decided curve of the instep. the possessors of large feet should be particularly careful to have their boots perfectly cleaned and very glossy. the feet look much smaller when this is the case than when the boot has a rim of mud around the sole and a shadow of dust upon the uppers. where the instep is defective or totally absent, a pretence at one may be made by blacking that portion of the sole of the foot that is immediately adjacent to the heel. this causes a kind of optical illusion which is favorable to the flat-footed. patent leather is a most objectionable material for wearing upon the feet. through it ventilation is absolutely impossible. so much for the sanitary part of the subject; and as to convenience, this is as much in the shade as sanitation, for patent leather "draws" the feet much more than any other kind. of late, ladies and children have begun to borrow this material from gentlemen, but as much smaller shoes can be worn with comfort in any other kind of leather, it is not likely to become universally popular. large feet should never be clad in satin. foot-wear. the fit of the stocking is almost as essential to the perfection of the foot as that of the boot or the shoe itself. it should be large enough to allow freedom to the toes, and not so large as to wrinkle on the foot. in a well-fitting stocking the foot can be more accurately measured than otherwise, and the comfort of the foot is sadly impeded by an ill-fitting one. the feet should be bathed every morning, and for those who walk much, a daily change of stockings is advisable. this daily change is more than advisable, it is necessary, for persons who suffer from perspiring feet. regular washing of the feet preserves their strength and elasticity, and helps to keep them in shape. at least once a week they should be washed in hot water, with plenty of soap, rubbing them with a ball of sandstone, which will be found a very useful article for toilet purposes, also a tablespoonful of kretol in the water. the nails should then be carefully pared, and, in drying the feet, much friction should be used in order to stimulate the skin to healthy action. when corns appear, they may be accepted with resignation as lifelong acquaintances. seldom, indeed, do they quit the victim, who has invited them by ill-advised pinchings and squeezings. all that one can do is to keep them under control by constant care. the treatment recommended is the same as that used for warts--viz., to pare the hard and dry skin from the tops, and then touch them with the smallest drop of acetic acid, taking care that the acid does not run off the wart upon the neighboring skin, which would occasion inflammation and much pain. this should be done once or twice a day with regularity. we should, no doubt, easily get rid of all our corns if we could make up our minds to do without shoes, or even to wear them of such a large size as would prevent all pressure upon the corn. this disagreeable effect results quite as often from badly made boots as from injudiciously tight ones. there is a particular knack to be observed in paring a corn. it should be cut in such a manner as to excavate the center, while the hardened sides are left to protect the more sensitive portion against the pressure of the boot. when the corn is small and yet young, the best application is a piece of soft buff-leather spread with adhesive plaster and pierced in the center with a hole of exactly the size of the summit of the corn. there are two varieties of corn, the hard and the soft. the latter occurs between the toes, and is quite as painful as, and less easily guarded against, than the hard variety. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) our deportment or the manners, conduct and dress of the most refined society; including forms for letters, invitations, etc., etc. also, valuable suggestions on home culture and training. compiled from the latest reliable authorities, by john h. young, a.m. revised and illustrated. [illustration] f. b. dickerson & co., detroit, mich. st. louis, mo. pennsylvania publishing co., harrisburgh, pa. union publishing house, chicago, ill. . [illustration] to go through this life with good manners possessed, is to be kind unto all, rich, poor and oppressed, for kindness and mercy are balms that will heal the sorrows, the pains, and the woes that we feel. [illustration] copyrighted by freeman b. dickerson, and . [illustration] preface. no one subject is of more importance to people generally than a knowledge of the rules, usages and ceremonies of good society, which are commonly expressed by the word "etiquette." its necessity is felt wherever men and women associate together, whether in the city, village, or country town, at home or abroad. to acquire a thorough knowledge of these matters, and to put that knowledge into practice with perfect ease and self-complacency, is what people call good breeding. to display an ignorance of them, is to subject the offender to the opprobrium of being ill-bred. in the compilation of this work, the object has been to present the usages and rules which govern the most refined american society, and to impart that information which will enable any one, in whatever circumstances of life to acquire the perfect ease of a gentleman, or the gentle manners and graceful deportment of a well-bred lady, whose presence will be sought for, and who, by their graceful deportment will learn the art of being at home in any good society. the work is so arranged, that every subject is conveniently classified and subdivided; it is thus an easy matter to refer at once to any given subject. it has been the aim of the compiler to give minutely all points that are properly embraced in a work on etiquette, even upon matters of seemingly trivial importance. upon some hitherto disputed points, those rules are given, which are sustained by the best authorities and endorsed by good sense. as the work is not the authorship of any one individual, and as no individual, whatever may be his acquirements, could have the presumption to dictate rules for the conduct of society in general, it is therefore only claimed that it is a careful compilation from all the best and latest authorities upon the subject of etiquette and kindred matters, while such additional material has been embraced within its pages, as, it is hoped, will be found of benefit and interest to every american household. j.h.y. [illustration] contents. chapter i. page. introductory chapter ii. manners. good manners as an element of worldly success--manner an index of character--the true gentleman--the true lady--importance of trifles--value of pleasing manners--personal appearance enhanced and fortunes made by pleasing manners--politeness the outgrowth of good manners chapter iii. introductions. acquaintances thus formed--promiscuous, informal and casual introductions--introduction of a gentleman to a lady and a lady to a gentleman--introduction at a ball--the manner of introduction--introducing relatives--obligatory introductions--salutations after introduction--introducing one's self--letters of introduction--how they are to be delivered--duty of a person to whom a letter of introduction is addressed--letters of introduction for business purposes chapter iv. salutations. the salutation originally an act of worship--its form in different nations--the bow, its proper mode--words of salutation--manner of bowing--duties of the young to older people--how to avoid recognition--etiquette of handshaking--kissing as a mode of salutation--the kiss of friendship--the kiss of respect chapter v. etiquette on calls. morning calls--evening calls--rules for formal calls--calls at summer resorts--reception days--calls made by cards--returning the first call--calls after a betrothal takes place--forming new acquaintance by calls--the first call, by whom to be made--calls of congratulation--visits of condolence--keeping an account of calls--evening visits--"engaged" or "not at home" to callers--general rules relative to calls--new year's calls chapter vi. etiquette on visiting. general invitations not to be accepted--the limit of a prolonged visit--duties of a visitor--duties of the host or hostess--true hospitality--leave-taking--invitations to guests--forbearance with children--guests making presents--treatment of a host's friends chapter vii. etiquette of cards. visiting and calling cards--their size and style--wedding cards--leaving cards in calling--cards for mother and daughter--cards not to be sent in envelopes to return formal calls--glazed cards not in fashion--p.p.c. cards--cards of congratulation--when sent--leave cards in making first calls of the season and after invitations--mourning cards--christmas and easter cards--cards of condolence--bridegroom's card. chapter viii. conversation. character revealed by conversation--importance of conversing well--children should be trained to talk well--cultivation of the memory--importance of remembering names--how henry clay acquired this habit--listening--writing down one's thoughts--requisites for a good talker--vulgarisms--flippancy--sympathizing with another--bestowing compliments--slang--flattery--scandal and gossip--satire and ridicule--religion and politics to be avoided--bestowing of titles--interrupting another while talking--adaptability in conversation--correct use of words--speaking one's mind--profanity --display of knowledge--double entendres--impertinent questions --things to be avoided in conversation--hobbies--fault-finding --disputes chapter ix. dinner parties. dinners are entertainments for married people--whom to invite--forms of invitations--punctuality required--the success of a dinner party--table appointments--proper size of a dinner party--arrangement of guests at table--serving dinner a la russe--duties of servants--serving the dishes--general rules regarding dinner--waiting on others--monopolizing conversation--duties of hostess and host--retiring from the table--calls required after a dinner party--returning hospitalities--expensive dinners not the most enjoyable--wines at dinners chapter x. table etiquette. importance of acquiring good habits at the table--table appointments for breakfast, luncheon and dinner--use of the knife and fork--of the napkin--avoid fast eating and all appearance of greediness--general rules on the subject chapter xi. receptions, parties and balls. morning receptions--the dress and refreshments for them--invitations--musical matinees--parties in the country--five o'clock teas and kettle-drums--requisites for a successful ball--introductions at a ball--receiving guests--the number to invite--duties of the guests--general rules to be observed at balls--some suggestions for gentlemen--duties of an escort--preparations for a ball--the supper--an after-call required chapter xii. street etiquette. the street manners of a lady--forming street acquaintances--recognizing friends in the street--saluting a lady--passing through a crowd--the first to bow--do not lack politeness--how a lady and gentleman should walk together--when to offer the lady the arm--going up and down stairs--smoking in the streets--carrying packages--meeting a lady acquaintance--corner loafers--shouting in the street--shopping etiquette--for public conveyances--cutting acquaintances--general suggestions chapter xiii. etiquette of public places. conduct in church--invitations to opera, theatres and concerts--conduct in public assemblages--remain until the performance closes--conduct in picture galleries--behavior at charity fairs--conduct at an artist's studio chapter xiv. traveling etiquette. courtesies shown to ladies traveling alone--duties of an escort--duties of a lady to her escort--ladies should assist other ladies traveling alone--the seats to be occupied in a railway car--discretion to be used in forming acquaintances in traveling chapter xv. riding and driving. learning to ride on horseback--the gentleman's duty as an escort in riding--how to assist a lady to mount--riding with ladies--assisting a lady to alight from a horse--driving--the seat of honor in a carriage--trusting the driver chapter xvi. courtship. proper conduct of gentlemen and ladies toward each other--premature declaration of love--love at first sight--proper manner of courtship--parents should exercise authority over daughters--an acceptable suitor--requirements for a happy marriage--proposals of marriage--a gentleman should not press an unwelcome suit--a lady's refusal--a doubtful answer--unladylike conduct toward a suitor--the rejected suitor--asking consent of parents--presents after engagement--conduct and relations of the engaged couple--lovers' quarrels--breaking an engagement chapter xvii. wedding etiquette. choice of bridemaids and groomsmen or ushers--the bridal costume costumes of bridegroom and ushers--presents of the bride and bridegroom--ceremonials at church when there are no bridemaids or ushers--invitations to the ceremony alone--the latest ceremonials--weddings at home--the evening wedding--"at home" receptions--calls--the wedding ring--marriage ceremonials of a widow--form of invitations to a reception--duties of invited guests--of bridemaids and ushers--bridal presents--master of ceremonies--wedding fees--congratulations--the bridal tour chapter xviii. home life and etiquette. home the woman's kingdom--home companionship--conduct of husband and wife--duties of the wife to her husband--the wife a helpmate--the husband's duties chapter xix. home training. first lessons learned at home--parents should set good examples to their children--courtesies in the home circle--early moral training of children--the formation of their habits--politeness at home--train children for some occupation--bad temper--selfishness--home maxims chapter xx. home culture. cultivate moral courage--the pernicious influence of indolence--self-respect--result of good breeding at home--fault-finding and grumbling--family jars not to be made public--conflicting interests--religious education--obedience--influence of example--the influence of books chapter xxi. woman's higher education. its importance--train young women to some occupation--education of girls too superficial--an education appropriate to each sex--knowledge of the laws of health needed by women--idleness the source of all misery--a spirit of independence--health and life dependent upon a higher culture--cultivation of the moral sense chapter xxii. the letter writer. letter writing is an indication of good breeding--requirements for correct writing--anonymous letters--note paper to be used--forms of letters and notes--forms of addressing notes and letters--forms of signature--letters of introduction--when to be given--notes of invitation and replies thereto--acceptances and regrets--formal invitations must be answered--letters of friendship--love letters--business letters and correspondence--form of letter requesting employment--regarding the character of a servant--forms for notes, drafts, bills and receipts chapter xxiii. general rules to govern conduct. attention to the young in society--gracefulness of carriage--attitude, coughing, sneezing, etc.--anecdotes, puns, etc.--a sweet and pure breath--smoking--a good listener--give precedence to others--be moderate in speaking--singing and playing in society--receiving and making presents--governing our moods--a lady driving with a gentleman--an invitation cannot be recalled--avoid talking of personalities--shun gossip and tale bearing--removing the hat--intruding on privacy--politeness --adapting yourself to others--contradicting--a woman's good name --expressing unfavorable opinions--vulgarities--miscellaneous rules governing conduct--washington's maxims chapter xxiv. anniversary weddings. how and when they are celebrated--the paper, cotton and leather weddings--the wooden wedding--the tin wedding--the crystal wedding--the silver wedding--the golden wedding--the diamond wedding--presents at anniversary weddings--forms of invitations, etc. chapter xxv. births and christenings. naming the child--the christening--godparents or sponsors--presents from godparents--the ceremony--the breakfast--christening gifts--the hero of the day--fees chapter xxvi funerals. death notices and funeral invitations--arrangement for the funeral--the house of mourning--conducting the funeral services--the pall-bearers --order of the procession--floral and other decorations--calls upon the bereaved family--seclusion of the family chapter xxvii. etiquette at washington. social duties required of the president and his family--receptions at the white house--order of official rank--duties required of members of the cabinet and their families--how to address officials--the first to visit chapter xxviii. etiquette of foreign courts. foreign titles--royalty--the nobility--the gentry--esquires--imperial rank--european titles--presentation at the court of st. james--those eligible and ineligible for presentation--preliminaries--presentation costumes chapter xxix. business. the example of a merchant prince--keep your temper--honesty the best policy--form good habits--breaking an appointment--prompt payment of bills, notes and drafts--general suggestions chapter xxx. dress. requirements for dressing well--perils of the love of dress to weak minds--consistency in dress--extravagance--indifference to dress--appropriate dress--the wearing of gloves--evening or full dress for gentlemen--morning dress for gentlemen--evening or full dress for ladies--ball dresses--the full dinner dress--for receiving and making morning calls--morning dress for street--carriage dress--promenade dress and walking suit--opera dress--the riding dress--for women of business--ordinary evening dress--for a social party--dress for the theater, lecture and concert--archery, croquet and skating costumes--bathing dress--for traveling--the bridal costume--dress of bridemaids--at wedding receptions--mourning dress--how long mourning should be worn chapter xxxi. colors and their harmony in dress. the proper arrangement of colors--the colors adapted to different persons--material for dress--size in relation to color and dress--a list of colors that harmonize chapter xxxii. the toilet. importance of neatness and cleanliness--perfumes--the bath--the teeth and their care--the skin--the eyes, eyelashes and brows--the hair and beard--the hands and feet chapter xxxiii. toilet recipes. to remove freckles, pimples and sunburn--to beautify the complexion--to prevent the hair falling out--pomades and hair oils--sea foam or dry shampoo--to prevent the hair turning gray--to soften the skin--to cleanse the teeth--remedy for chapped hands--for corns and chilblains, etc. chapter xxxiv. sports, games and amusements. archery and its practice--lawn tennis--boating--picnics--private theatricals--card playing chapter xxxv. language of flowers, chapter xxxvi. precious stones, chapter i. introductory. "ingenious art with her expressive face, steps forth to fashion and refine the race."--cowper. a knowledge of etiquette has been defined to be a knowledge of the rules of society at its best. these rules have been the outgrowth of centuries of civilization, had their foundation in friendship and love of man for his fellow man--the vital principles of christianity--and are most powerful agents for promoting peace, harmony and good will among all people who are enjoying the blessings of more advanced civilized government. in all civilized countries the influence of the best society is of great importance to the welfare and prosperity of the nation, but in no country is the good influence of the most refined society more powerfully felt than in our own, "the land of the future, where mankind may plant, essay, and resolve all social problems." these rules make social intercourse more agreeable, and facilitate hospitalities, when all members of society hold them as binding rules and faithfully regard their observance. they are to society what our laws are to the people as a political body, and to disregard them will give rise to constant misunderstandings, engender ill-will, and beget bad morals and bad manners. says an eminent english writer: "on manners, refinement, rules of good breeding, and even the forms of etiquette, we are forever talking, judging our neighbors severely by the breach of traditionary and unwritten laws, and choosing our society and even our friends by the touchstone of courtesy." the marchioness de lambert expressed opinions which will be endorsed by the best bred people everywhere when she wrote to her son: "nothing is more shameful than a voluntary rudeness. men have found it necessary as well as agreeable to unite for the common good; they have made laws to restrain the wicked; they have agreed among themselves as to the duties of society, and have annexed an honorable character to the practice of those duties. he is the honest man who observes them with the most exactness, and the instances of them multiply in proportion to the degree of nicety of a person's honor." originally a gentleman was defined to be one who, without any title of nobility, wore a coat of arms. and the descendants of many of the early colonists preserve with much pride and care the old armorial bearings which their ancestors brought with them from their homes in the mother country. although despising titles and ignoring the rights of kings, they still clung to the "grand old name of gentleman." but race is no longer the only requisite for a gentleman, nor will race united with learning and wealth make a man a gentleman, unless there are present the kind and gentle qualities of the heart, which find expression in the principles of the golden rule. nor will race, education and wealth combined make a woman a true lady if she shows a want of refinement and consideration of the feelings of others. good manners are only acquired by education and observation, followed up by habitual practice at home and in society, and good manners reveal to us the lady and the gentleman. he who does not possess them, though he bear the highest title of nobility, cannot expect to be called a gentleman; nor can a woman, without good manners, aspire to be considered a lady by ladies. manners and morals are indissolubly allied, and no society can be good where they are bad. it is the duty of american women to exercise their influence to form so high a standard of morals and manners that the tendency of society will be continually upwards, seeking to make it the best society of any nation. as culture is the first requirement of good society, so self-improvement should be the aim of each and all of its members. manners will improve with the cultivation of the mind, until the pleasure and harmony of social intercourse are no longer marred by the introduction of discordant elements, and they only will be excluded from the best society whose lack of education and whose rude manners will totally unfit them for its enjoyments and appreciation. good manners are even more essential to harmony in society than a good education, and may be considered as valuable an acquisition as knowledge in any form. the principles of the golden rule, "whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them," is the basis of all true politeness--principles which teach us to forget ourselves, to be kind to our neighbors, and to be civil even to our enemies. the appearance of so being and doing is what society demands as good manners, and the man or woman trained to this mode of life is regarded as well-bred. the people, thus trained, are easy to get along with, for they are as quick to make an apology when they have been at fault, as they are to accept one when it is made. "the noble-hearted only understand the noble-hearted." in a society where the majority are rude from the thoughtfulness of ignorance, or remiss from the insolence of bad breeding, the iron rule, "do unto others, as they do unto you," is more often put into practice than the golden one. the savages know nothing of the virtues of forgiveness, and regard those who are not revengeful as wanting in spirit; so the ill-bred do not understand undeserved civilities extended to promote the general interests of society, and to carry out the injunction of the scriptures to strive after the things that make for peace. society is divided into sets, according to their breeding. one set may be said to have no breeding at all, another to have a little, another more, and another enough; and between the first and last of these, there are more shades than in the rainbow. good manners are the same in essence everywhere--at courts, in fashionable society, in literary circles, in domestic life--they never change, but social observances, customs and points of etiquette, vary with the age and with the people. a french writer has said: "to be truly polite, it is necessary to be, at the same time, good, just, and generous. true politeness is the outward visible sign of those inward spiritual graces called modesty, unselfishness and generosity. the manners of a gentleman are the index of his soul. his speech is innocent, because his life is pure; his thoughts are right, because his actions are upright; his bearing is gentle, because his feelings, his impulses, and his training are gentle also. a gentleman is entirely free from every kind of pretence. he avoids homage, instead of exacting it. mere ceremonies have no attraction for him. he seeks not to say any civil things, but to do them. his hospitality, though hearty and sincere, will be strictly regulated by his means. his friends will be chosen for their good qualities and good manners; his servants for their truthfulness and honesty; his occupations for their usefulness, their gracefulness or their elevating tendencies, whether moral, mental or political." in the same general tone does ruskin describe a gentleman, when he says: "a gentleman's first characteristic is that fineness of structure in the body which renders it capable of the most delicate sensation, and of that structure in the mind which renders it capable of the most delicate sympathies--one may say, simply, 'fineness of nature.' this is, of course, compatible with the heroic bodily strength and mental firmness; in fact, heroic strength is not conceivable without such delicacy. elephantine strength may drive its way through a forest and feel no touch of the boughs, but the white skin of homer's atrides would have felt a bent rose-leaf, yet subdue its feelings in the glow of battle and behave itself like iron. i do not mean to call an elephant a vulgar animal; but if you think about him carefully, you will find that his non-vulgarity consists in such gentleness as is possible to elephantine nature--not in his insensitive hide nor in his clumsy foot, but in the way he will lift his foot if a child lies in his way, and in his sensitive trunk and still more sensitive mind and capability of pique on points of honor. hence it will follow that one of the probable signs of high breeding in men generally, will be their kindness and mercifulness, these always indicating more or less firmness of make in the mind." can any one fancy what our society might be, if all its members were perfect gentlemen and true ladies, if all the inhabitants of the earth were kind-hearted; if, instead of contending with the faults of our fellows we were each to wage war against our own faults? every one needs to guard constantly against the evil from within as well as from without, for as has been truly said, "a man's greatest foe dwells in his own heart." a recent english writer says: "etiquette may be defined as the minor morality of life. no observances, however minute, that tend to spare the feelings of others, can be classed under the head of trivialities; and politeness, which is but another name for general amiability, will oil the creaking wheels of life more effectually than any of those unguents supplied by mere wealth and station." while the social observances, customs and rules which have grown up are numerous, and some perhaps considered trivial, they are all grounded upon principles of kindness to one another, and spring from the impulses of a good heart and from friendly feelings. the truly polite man acts from the highest and noblest ideas of what is right. lord chesterfield declared good breeding to be "the result of much good sense, some good nature and a little self-denial for the sake of others, and with a view to obtain the same indulgence from them." again he says: "good sense and good nature suggest civility in general, but in good breeding there are a thousand little delicacies which are established only by custom." [illustration] chapter ii. our manners. no one quality of the mind and heart is more important as an element conducive to worldly success than civility--that feeling of kindness and love for our fellow-beings which is expressed in pleasing manners. yet how many of our young men, with an affected contempt for the forms and conventionalities of life, assume to despise those delicate attentions, that exquisite tenderness of thought and manner, that mark the true gentleman. manners as an element of success. history repeats, over and over again, examples showing that it is the bearing of a man toward his fellow-men which, more than any other one quality of his nature, promotes or retards his advancement in life. the success or failure of one's plans have often turned upon the address and manner of the man. though there are a few people who can look beyond the rough husk or shell of a fellow-being to the finer qualities hidden within, yet the vast majority, not so keen-visaged nor tolerant, judge a person by his appearance and demeanor, more than by his substantial character. experience of every day life teaches us, if we would but learn, that civility is not only one of the essentials of high success, but that it is almost a fortune of itself, and that he who has this quality in perfection, though a blockhead, is almost sure to succeed where, without it, even men of good ability fail. a good manner is the best letter of recommendation among strangers. civility, refinement and gentleness are passports to hearts and homes, while awkwardness, coarseness and gruffness are met with locked doors and closed hearts. emerson says: "give a boy address and accomplishments, and you give him the mastery of palaces and fortunes wherever he goes; he has not the trouble of earning or owning them; they solicit him to enter and possess." in every class of life, in all professions and occupations, good manners are necessary to success. the business man has no stock-in-trade that pays him better than a good address. if the retail dealer wears his hat on his head in the presence of ladies who come to buy of him, if he does not see that the heavy door of his shop is opened and closed for them, if he seats himself in their presence, if he smokes a pipe or cigar, or has a chew of tobacco in his mouth, while talking with them, or is guilty of any of the small incivilities of life, they will not be apt to make his shop a rendezvous, no matter how attractive the goods he displays. a telling preacher in his opening remarks gains the good will of his hearers, and makes them feel both that he has something to say, and that he can say it, by his manner. the successful medical man inspires in his patients belief in his sympathy, and confidence in his skill, by his manner. the lawyer, in pleading a case before a jury, and remembering that the passions and prejudices of the jurymen govern them to as great an extent as pure reason, must not be forgetful of his manner, if he would bring them to his own way of thinking. and how often does the motto, "manners make the man," govern both parties in matters of courtship, the lady giving preference to him whose manners indicate a true nobility of the soul, and the gentleman preferring her who displays in her manner a gentleness of spirit. manner an index of character. a rude person, though well meaning, is avoided by all. manners, in fact, are minor morals; and a rude person is often assumed to be a bad person. the manner in which a person says or does a thing, furnishes a better index of his character than what he does or says, for it is by the incidental expression given to his thoughts and feelings, by his looks, tones and gestures, rather than by his words and deeds, that we prefer to judge him, for the reason that the former are involuntary. the manner in which a favor is granted or a kindness done, often affects us more than the deed itself. the deed may have been prompted by vanity, pride, or some selfish motive or interest; the warmth or coldness with which the person who has done it speaks to you, or grasps your hand, is less likely to deceive. the manner of doing any thing, it has been truly said, is that which stamps its life and character on any action. a favor may be performed so grudgingly as to prevent any feeling of obligation, or it may be refused so courteously as to awaken more kindly feelings than if it had been ungraciously granted. the true gentleman. politeness is benevolence in small things. a true gentleman must regard the rights and feelings of others, even in matters the most trivial. he respects the individuality of others, just as he wishes others to respect his own. in society he is quiet, easy, unobtrusive, putting on no airs, nor hinting by word or manner that he deems himself better, or wiser, or richer than any one about him. he never boasts of his achievements, or fishes for compliments by affecting to underrate what he has done. he is distinguished, above all things, by his deep insight and sympathy, his quick perception of, and prompt attention to, those small and apparently insignificant things that may cause pleasure or pain to others. in giving his opinions he does not dogmatize; he listens patiently and respectfully to other men, and, if compelled to dissent from their opinions, acknowledges his fallibility and asserts his own views in such a manner as to command the respect of all who hear him. frankness and cordiality mark all his intercourse with his fellows, and, however high his station, the humblest man feels instantly at ease in his presence. the true lady. calvert says: "ladyhood is an emanation from the heart subtilized by culture;" giving as two requisites for the highest breeding, transmitted qualities and the culture of good training. he continues: "of the higher type of ladyhood may always be said what steele said of lady elizabeth hastings, 'that unaffected freedom and conscious innocence gave her the attendance of the graces in all her actions.' at its highest, ladyhood implies a spirituality made manifest in poetic grace. from the lady there exhales a subtle magnetism. unconsciously she encircles herself with an atmosphere of unruffled strength, which, to those who come into it, gives confidence and repose. within her influence the diffident grow self-possessed, the impudent are checked, the inconsiderate are admonished; even the rude are constrained to be mannerly, and the refined are perfected; all spelled, unawares, by the flexible dignity, the commanding gentleness, the thorough womanliness of her look, speech and demeanor. a sway is this, purely spiritual. every sway, every legitimate, every enduring sway is spiritual; a regnancy of light over obscurity, of right over brutality. the only real gains ever made are spiritual gains--a further subjection of the gross to the incorporeal, of body to soul, of the animal to the human. the finest and most characteristic acts of a lady involve a spiritual ascension, a growing out of herself. in her being and bearing, patience, generosity, benignity are the graces that give shape to the virtues of truthfulness." here is the test of true ladyhood. whenever the young find themselves in the company of those who do not make them feel at ease, they should know that they are not in the society of true ladies and true gentlemen, but of pretenders; that well-bred men and women can only feel at home in the society of the well-bred. the importance of trifles. some people are wont to depreciate these kind and tender qualities as trifles; but trifles, it must be remembered, make up the aggregate of human life. the petty incivilities, slight rudenesses and neglects of which men are guilty, without thought, or from lack of foresight or sympathy, are often remembered, while the great acts performed by the same persons are often forgotten. there is no society where smiles, pleasant looks and animal spirits are not welcomed and deemed of more importance than sallies of wit, or refinements of understanding. the little civilities, which form the small change of life may appear separately of little moment, but, like the spare pennies which amount to such large fortunes in a lifetime, they owe their importance to repetition and accumulation. value of pleasing manners. the man who succeeds in any calling in life is almost invariably he who has shown a willingness to please and to be pleased, who has responded heartily to the advances of others, through nature and habit, while his rival has sniffed and frowned and snubbed away every helping hand. "the charming manners of the duke of marlborough," it is said, "often changed an enemy to a friend, and to be denied a favor by him was more pleasing than to receive one from another. it was these personal graces that made him both rich and great. his address was so exquisitely fascinating as to dissolve fierce jealousies and animosities, lull suspicion and beguile the subtlest diplomacy of its arts. his fascinating smile and winning tongue, equally with his sharp sword, swayed the destinies of empires." the gracious manners of charles james fox preserved him from personal dislike, even when he had gambled away his last shilling, and politically, was the most unpopular man in england. manners and personal appearance. a charming manner not only enhances personal beauty, but even hides ugliness and makes plainness agreeable. an ill-favored countenance is not necessarily a stumbling-block, at the outset, to its owner, which cannot be surmounted, for who does not know how much a happy manner often does to neutralize the ill effects of forbidding looks? the fascination of the demagogue wilkes's manner triumphed over both physical and moral deformity, rendering even his ugliness agreeable; and he boasted to lord townsend, one of the handsomest men in great britain, that "with half an hour's start he would get ahead of his lordship in the affections of any woman in the kingdom." the ugliest frenchman, perhaps, that ever lived was mirabeau; yet such was the witchery of his manner, that the belt of no gay lothario was hung with a greater number of bleeding female hearts than this "thunderer of the tribune," whose looks were so hideous that he was compared to a tiger pitted with the small-pox. fortunes made by pleasing manners. pleasing manners have made the fortunes of men in all professions and in every walk of life--of lawyers, doctors, clergymen, merchants, clerks and mechanics--and instances of this are so numerous that they may be recalled by almost any person. the politician who has the advantage of a courteous, graceful and pleasing manner finds himself an easy winner in the race with rival candidates, for every voter with whom he speaks becomes instantly his friend. civility is to a man what beauty is to a woman. it creates an instantaneous impression in his behalf, while gruffness or coarseness excites as quick a prejudice against him. it is an ornament, worth more as a means of winning favor than the finest clothes and jewels ever worn. lord chesterfield said the art of pleasing is, in truth, the art of rising, of distinguishing one's self, of making a figure and a fortune in the world. some years ago a drygoods salesman in a london shop had acquired such a reputation for courtesy and exhaustless patience, that it was said to be impossible to provoke from him any expression of irritability, or the smallest symptom of vexation. a lady of rank learning of his wonderful equanimity, determined to put it to the test by all the annoyances with which a veteran shop-visitor knows how to tease a shopman. she failed in her attempt to vex or irritate him, and thereupon set him up in business. he rose to eminence in trade, and the main spring of his later, as of his earlier career, was politeness. hundreds of men, like this salesman, have owed their start in life wholly to their pleasing address and manners. cultivation of good manners. the cultivation of pleasing, affable manners should be an important part of the education of every person of whatever calling or station in life. many people think that if they have only the substance, the form is of little consequence. but manners are a compound of spirit and form--spirit acted into form. the first law of good manners, which epitomizes all the rest is, "thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." true courtesy is simply the application of this golden rule to all our social conduct, or, as it has been happily defined, "real kindness, kindly expressed." it may be met in the hut of the arab, in the courtyard of the turk, in the hovel of the freedman, and the cottage of the irishman. even christian men sometimes fail in courtesy, deeming it a mark of weakness, or neglecting it from mere thoughtlessness. yet when we find this added to the other virtues of the christian, it will be noted that his influence for good upon others has been powerfully increased, for it was by this that he obtained access to the hearts of others. an old english writer said reverently of our saviour: "he was the first true gentleman that ever lived." the influence of many good men would be more than doubled if they could manage to be less stiff and more elastic. gentleness in society, it has been truly said, "is like the silent influence of light which gives color to all nature; it is far more powerful than loudness or force, and far more fruitful. it pushes its way silently and persistently like the tiniest daffodil in spring, which raises the clod and thrusts it aside by the simple persistence of growing." politeness. politeness is kindness of manner. this is the outgrowth of kindness of heart, of nobleness, and of courage. but in some persons we find an abundance of courage, nobleness and kindness of heart, without kindness of manner, and we can only think and speak of them as not only impolite, but even rude and gruff. such a man was dr. johnson, whose rudeness secured for him the nickname of ursa major, and of whom goldsmith truthfully remarked, "no man alive has a more tender heart; he has nothing of the bear about him but his skin." to acquire that ease and grace of manners which is possessed by and which distinguishes every well-bred person, one must think of others rather than of himself, and study to please them even at his own inconvenience. "do unto others as you would that others should do unto you"--the golden rule of life--is also the law of politeness, and such politeness implies self-sacrifice, many struggles and conflicts. it is an art and tact, rather than an instinct and inspiration. an eminent divine has said: "a noble and attractive every-day bearing comes of goodness, of sincerity, of refinement. and these are bred in years, not moments. the principle that rules our life is the sure posture-master. sir philip sidney was the pattern to all england of a perfect gentleman; but then he was the hero that, on the field of zutphen, pushed away the cup of cold water from his own fevered and parched lips, and held it out to the dying soldier at his side." a christian by the very conditions of his creed, and the obligations of his faith is, of necessity, in mind and soul--and therefore in word and act--a gentleman, but a man may be polite without being a christian. [illustration] chapter iii. introductions. an acquaintanceship or friendship usually begins by means of introductions, though it is by no means uncommon that when it has taken place under other circumstances--without introduction--it has been a great advantage to both parties; nor can it be said that it is improper to begin an acquaintance in this way. the formal introduction has been called the highway to the beginning of friendship, and the "scraped" acquaintance the by-path. promiscuous introduction. there is a large class of people who introduce friends and acquaintances to everybody they meet, whether at home or abroad, while walking or riding out. such promiscuous introductions are neither necessary, desirable, nor at all times agreeable. an introduction a social endorsement. it is to be remembered that an introduction is regarded as a social endorsement of the person introduced, and that, under certain circumstances, it would be wrong to introduce to our friends casual acquaintances, of whom we know nothing, and who may afterwards prove to be anything but desirable persons to know. care should be taken, therefore, in introducing two individuals, that the introduction be mutually agreeable. whenever it is practicable, it is best to settle the point by inquiring beforehand. when this is inexpedient from any cause, a thorough acquaintance with both parties will warrant the introducer to judge of the point for him or herself. universal introductions. while the habit of universal introductions is a bad one, there are many men in cities and villages who are not at all particular whom they introduce to each other. as a general rule, a man should be as careful about the character of the person he introduces to his friends, as he is of him whose notes he would endorse. the introduction of a gentleman to a lady. a gentleman should not be introduced to a lady, unless her permission has been previously obtained, and no one should ever be introduced into the house of a friend, except permission is first granted. such introductions, however, are frequent, but they are improper, for a person cannot know that an introduction of this kind will be agreeable. if a person asks you to introduce him to another, or a gentleman asks to be introduced to a lady, and you find the introduction would not be agreeable to the other party, you may decline on the grounds that you are not sufficiently intimate to take that liberty. when a gentleman is introduced to a lady, both bow slightly, and the gentleman opens conversation. it is the place of the one who is introduced to make the first remark. informal introduction. it is not strictly necessary that acquaintanceship should wait a formal introduction. persons meeting at the house of a common friend may consider that fact a sufficient warrant for the preliminaries of acquaintanceship, if there appears to be a mutual inclination toward such acquaintanceship. the presence of a person in a friend's house is a sufficient guaranty for his or her respectability. gentlemen and ladies may form acquaintances in traveling, on a steamboat, in a railway car, or a stage-coach, without the formality of an introduction. such acquaintanceship should be conducted with a certain amount of reserve, and need not be prolonged beyond the time of casual meeting. the slightest approach to disrespect or familiarity should be checked by dignified silence. a young lady, however, is not accorded the same privilege of forming acquaintances as is a married or elderly lady, and should be careful about doing so. introductions at a ball. it is the part of the host and hostess at a ball to introduce their guests, though guests may, with perfect propriety, introduce each other, or, as already intimated, may converse with one another without the ceremony of a formal introduction. a gentleman, before introducing his friends to ladies, should obtain permission of the latter to do so, unless he is perfectly sure, from his knowledge of the ladies, that the introductions will be agreeable. the ladies should always grant such permission, unless there is a strong reason for refusing. the french, and to some extent the english, dispense with introductions at a private ball. the fact that they have been invited to meet each other is regarded as a guaranty that they are fit to be mutually acquainted, and is a sufficient warrant for self-introduction. at a public ball partners must be introduced to each other. special introducing may be made with propriety by the master of ceremonies. at public balls it is well for ladies to dance only, or for the most part, with gentlemen of their own party, or those with whom they have had a previous acquaintance. the manner of introduction. the proper form of introduction is to present the gentleman to the lady, the younger to the older, the inferior in social standing to the superior. in introducing, you bow to the lady and say, "miss c., allow me to introduce to you mr. d. mr. d., miss c." it is the duty of mr. d. upon bowing to say, "it gives me great pleasure to form your acquaintance, miss c.," or a remark of this nature. if gentlemen are to be introduced to one another, the form is, "col. blank, permit me to introduce to you mr. cole. mr. cole, col. blank." the exact words of an introduction are immaterial, so long as the proper form and order is preserved. the word "present" is often used in place of "introduce." while it is customary to repeat the names of the two parties introduced at the close of the introduction, it is often omitted as a useless formality. it is of the utmost importance that each name should be spoken distinctly. if either of the parties does not distinctly hear the name of the other he should say at once, without hesitation or embarrassment, before making the bow, "i beg your pardon; i did not catch (or understand) the name," when it may be repeated to him. if several persons are to be introduced to one individual, mention the name of the single individual first, and then call the others in succession, bowing slightly as each name is pronounced. it is the part of true politeness, after introductions, to explain to each person introduced something of the business or residence of each, as they will assist in opening conversation. or, if one party has recently returned from a foreign trip, it is courteous to say so. casual introductions. while it is not necessary to introduce people who chance to meet in your house during a morning call; yet, if there is no reason for supposing that such an introduction will be objectionable to either party, it seems better to give it, as it sets both parties at ease in conversation. acquaintanceship may or may not follow such an introduction, at the option of the parties. people who meet at the house of a mutual friend need not recognize each other as acquaintances if they meet again elsewhere, unless they choose to do so. introducing relatives. in introducing members of your own family, be careful not only to specify the degree of relationship, but to give the name also. it is awkward to a stranger to be introduced to "my brother tom," or "my sister carrie." when either the introducer or the introduced is a married lady, the name of the party introduced can only be guessed at. bestowing of titles. in introducing a person give him his appropriate title. if he is a clergyman, say "the rev. mr. clark." if a doctor of divinity, say "the rev. dr. clark." if he is a member of congress, call him "honorable," and specify to which branch of congress he belongs. if he is governor of a state, mention what state. if he is a man of any celebrity in the world of art or letters, it is well to mention the fact something after this manner: "mr. fish, the artist, whose pictures you have frequently seen," or "mr. hart, author of 'our future state,' which you so greatly admired." obligatory introductions. a friend visiting at your house must be introduced to all callers, and courtesy requires the latter to cultivate the acquaintance while your visitor remains with you. if you are the caller introduced, you must show the same attention to the friend of your friend that you wish shown your own friends under the same circumstances. persons meeting at public places need not introduce each other to the strangers who may chance to be with them; and, even if the introduction does take place, the acquaintance need not be continued unless desired. the obligation of an introduction. two persons who have been properly introduced have in future certain claims upon one another's acquaintance which should be recognized, unless there are sufficient reasons for overlooking them. even in that case good manners require the formal bow of recognition upon meeting, which, of itself, encourages no familiarity. only a very ill-bred person will meet another with a stare. the salutation after introduction. a slight bow is all that is required by courtesy, after an introduction. shaking hands is optional, and it should rest with the older, or the superior in social standing to make the advances. it is often an act of kindness on their part, and as such to be commended. it is a common practice among gentlemen, when introduced to one another, to shake hands, and as it evinces more cordiality than a mere bow, is generally to be preferred. an unmarried lady should not shake hands with gentlemen indiscriminately. the first to recognize. it is the privilege of the lady to determine whether she will recognize a gentleman after an introduction, and he is bound to return the bow. in bowing to a lady on the street, it is not enough that a gentleman should touch his hat, he should lift it from his head. the "cut direct." the "cut direct," which is given by a prolonged stare at a person, if justified at all, can only be in case of extraordinary and notoriously bad conduct on the part of the individual "cut," and is very seldom called for. if any one wishes to avoid a bowing acquaintance with another, it can be done by looking aside or dropping the eyes. it is an invariable rule of good society, that a gentleman cannot "cut" a lady under any circumstances, but circumstances may arise when he may be excused for persisting in not meeting her eyes, for if their eyes meet, he must bow. meeting in the street. if, while walking with one friend, in the street, you meet another and stop a moment to speak with the latter, it is not necessary to introduce the two who are strangers to one another; but, when you separate, the friend who accompanies you gives a parting salutation, the same as yourself. the same rule applies if the friend you meet chances to be a lady. introducing yourself. if, on entering a drawing-room to pay a visit, you are not recognized, mention your name immediately. if you know but one member of the family and you find others only in the room, introduce yourself to them. unless this is done, much awkwardness may be occasioned. about shaking hands. when a lady is introduced to a gentleman, she should merely bow but not give her hand, unless the gentleman is a well known friend of some member of the family. in that case she may do so if she pleases, as a mark of esteem or respect. a gentleman must not offer to shake hands with a lady until she has made the first movement. a married lady should extend her hand upon being introduced to a stranger brought to her house by her husband, or by a common friend, as an evidence of her cordial welcome. letters of introduction. friendly letters of introduction should only be given to personal friends, introducing them, and only addressed to those with whom the writer has a strong personal friendship. it is not only foolish, but positively dangerous to give such a letter to a person with whom the writer is but slightly acquainted, as you may thus give your countenance and endorsement to a person who will take advantage of your carelessness to bring you into embarrassing and mortifying positions. again, you should never address a letter of introduction to any but an intimate friend of long standing, and even then it should not be done, unless you are perfectly satisfied that the person you are to introduce will be an agreeable and congenial person for your friend to meet, as it would be very annoying to send to your friend a visitor who would prove to him disagreeable. even amongst friends of long standing such letters should be given very cautiously and sparingly. the form of letters of introduction is given in the chapter on "letter-writing." delivering a letter of introduction. it is not necessary to deliver a friendly letter of introduction to a person who resides in another town. it is better to send it to the person to whom it is directed, on your arrival, accompanied by your card of address. if he wishes to comply with the request of his friend he will call upon you, and give you an invitation to visit him; circumstances, however, might render it exceedingly inconvenient, or impossible for the person to whom the letter is addressed, to call upon you; consequently a neglect to call need not be considered a mark of ill-breeding, though by some people it is so considered. the person addressed must consult his own feelings in the matter, and while aiming to do what is right, he is not bound to sacrifice business or other important matters to attend to the entertainment of a friend's friend. in such a case he may send his own card to the address of the person bearing the letter of introduction, and the latter is at liberty to call upon him at his leisure. the duty of the person addressed. in europe it is the custom for a person with a letter of introduction to make the first call, but in this country we think that a stranger should never be made to feel that he is begging our attention, and that it is indelicate for him to intrude until he is positive that his company would be agreeable. consequently, if it is your wish and in your power to welcome any one recommended to you by letter from a friend, or to show your regard for your friend's friend, you must call upon him with all possible dispatch, after you receive his letter of introduction, and give him as hospitable a reception and entertainment as it is possible to give, and such as you would be pleased to receive were you in his place. letters of introduction for business purposes. letters of introduction to and from business men may be delivered by the bearers in person, and etiquette does not require the receiver to entertain the person introduced as a friend of the writer. it is entirely optional with the person to whom the latter is introduced how he welcomes him, or whether he entertains him or not, though his courtesy would be apt to suggest that some kind attentions should be paid him. chapter iv. salutations. carlyle says: "what we call 'formulas' are not in their origin bad; they are indisputably good. formula is method, habitude; found wherever man is found. formulas fashion themselves as paths do, as beaten highways leading toward some sacred, high object, whither many men are bent. consider it: one man full of heartfelt, earnest impulse finds out a way of doing something--were it uttering his soul's reverence for the highest, _were it but of fitly saluting his fellow-man_. an inventor was needed to do that, a poet; he has articulated the dim, struggling thought that dwelt in his own and many hearts. this is the way of doing that. these are his footsteps, the beginning of a 'path.' and now see the second man travels naturally in the footsteps of his foregoer; it is the easiest method. in the footsteps of his foregoer, yet with his improvements, with changes where such seem good; at all events with enlargements, the path ever widening itself as more travel it, till at last there is a broad highway, whereon the whole world may travel and drive." salutation originally an act of worship. a lady writer of distinction says of salutations: "it would seem that good manners were originally the expression of submission from the weaker to the stronger. in a rude state of society every salutation is to this day an act of worship. hence the commonest acts, phrases and signs of courtesy with which we are now familiar, date from those earlier stages when the strong hand ruled and the inferior demonstrated his allegiance by studied servility. let us take, for example, the words 'sir' and 'madam.' 'sir' is derived from seigneur, sieur, and originally meant lord, king, ruler and, in its patriarchal sense, father. the title of sire was last borne by some of the ancient feudal families of france, who, as selden has said, 'affected rather to be styled by the name of sire than baron, as _le sire de montmorenci_ and the like.' 'madam' or 'madame,' corrupted by servants into 'ma'am,' and by mrs. gamp and her tribe into 'mum,' is in substance equivalent to 'your exalted,' or 'your highness,' _madame_ originally meaning high-born, or stately, and being applied only to ladies of the highest rank. "to turn to our every-day forms of salutation. we take off our hats on visiting an acquaintance. we bow on being introduced to strangers. we rise when visitors enter our drawing-room. we wave our hand to our friend as he passes the window or drives away from our door. the oriental, in like manner, leaves his shoes on the threshold when he pays a visit. the natives of the tonga islands kiss the soles of a chieftain's feet. the siberian peasant grovels in the dust before a russian noble. each of these acts has a primary, an historical significance. the very word 'salutation,' in the first place, derived as it is from _salutatio_, the daily homage paid by a roman client to his patron, suggests in itself a history of manners. "to bare the head was originally an act of submission to gods and rulers. a bow is a modified prostration. a lady's courtesy is a modified genuflection. rising and standing are acts of homage; and when we wave our hand to a friend on the opposite side of the street, we are unconsciously imitating the romans, who, as selden tells us, used to stand 'somewhat off before the images of their gods, solemnly moving the right hand to the lips and casting it, as if they had cast kisses.' again, men remove the glove when they shake hands with a lady--a custom evidently of feudal origin. the knight removed his iron gauntlet, the pressure of which would have been all too harsh for the palm of a fair _chatelaine_; and the custom, which began in necessity, has traveled down to us as a point of etiquette." salutations of different nations. each nation has its own method of salutation. in southern africa it is the custom to rub toes. in lapland your friend rubs his nose against yours. the turk folds his arms upon his breast and bends his head very low. the moors of morocco have a somewhat startling mode of salutation. they ride at a gallop toward a stranger, as though they would unhorse him, and when close at hand suddenly check their horse and fire a pistol over the person's head. the egyptian solicitously asks you, "how do you perspire?" and lets his hand fall to the knee. the chinese bows low and inquires, "have you eaten?" the spaniard says, "god be with you, sir," or, "how do you stand?" and the neapolitan piously remarks, "grow in holiness." the german asks, "how goes it with you?" the frenchman bows profoundly and inquires, "how do you carry yourself." foreigners are given to embracing. in france and germany the parent kisses his grown-up son on the forehead, men throw their arms around the necks of their friends, and brothers embrace like lovers. it is a curious sight to americans, with their natural prejudices against publicity in kissing. in england and america there are three modes of salutation--the bow, the handshaking and the kiss. the bow. it is said: "a bow is a note drawn at sight. you are bound to acknowledge it immediately, and to the full amount." it should be respectful, cordial, civil or familiar, according to circumstances. between gentlemen, an inclination of the head, a gesture of the hand, or the mere touching of the hat is sufficient; but in bowing to a lady, the hat must be lifted from the head. if you know people slightly, you recognize them slightly; if you know them well, you bow with more familiarity. the body is not bent at all in bowing; the inclination of the head is all that is necessary. if the gentleman is smoking, he withdraws his cigar from his mouth before lifting his hat to a lady, or if he should happen to have his hand in his pocket he removes it. at the moment of the first meeting of the eyes of an acquaintance you bow. any one who has been introduced to you, or any one to whom you have been introduced, is entitled to this mark of respect. the bow is the touchstone of good breeding, and to neglect it, even to one with whom you may have a trifling difference, shows deficiency in cultivation and in the instincts of refinement. a bow does not entail a calling acquaintance. its entire neglect reveals the character and training of the person; the manner of its observance reveals the very shades of breeding that exist between the ill-bred and the well-bred. returning a bow. a gentleman walking with a lady returns a bow made to her, whether by a lady or gentleman (lifting his hat not too far from his head), although the one bowing is an entire stranger to him. it is civility to return a bow, although you do not know the one who is bowing to you. either the one who bows, knows you, or has mistaken you for some one else. in either case you should return the bow, and probably the mistake will be discovered to have occurred for want of quick recognition on your own part, or from some resemblance that you bear to another. the manner of bowing. the manner in which the salutation of recognition is made, may be regarded as an unerring test of the breeding, training, or culture of a person. it should be prompt as soon as the eyes meet, whether on the street or in a room. the intercourse need go no further, but that bow must be made. there are but few laws which have better reasons for their observance than this. this rule holds good under all circumstances, whether within doors or without. those who abstain from bowing at one time, and bow at another, should not be surprised to find that the person whom they have neglected, has avoided the continuation of their acquaintance. duties of young to older people. having once had an introduction that entitles to recognition, it is the duty of the person to recall himself or herself to the recollection of the older person, if there is much difference in age, by bowing each time of meeting, until the recognition becomes mutual. as persons advance in life, they look for these attentions upon the part of the young. persons who have large circles of acquaintance, often confuse the faces of the young whom they know with the familiar faces which they meet and do not know, and from frequent errors of this kind, they get into the habit of waiting to catch some look or gesture of recognition. how to avoid recognition. if a person desires to avoid a bowing acquaintance with a person who has been properly introduced, he may do so by looking aside, or dropping the eyes as the person approaches, for, if the eyes meet, there is no alternative, bow he must. on public promenades. bowing once to a person upon a public promenade or drive is all that civility requires. if the person is a friend, it is in better form, the second and subsequent passings, should you catch his or her eye, to smile slightly instead of bowing repeatedly. if an acquaintance, it is best to avert the eyes. a smiling bow. a bow should never be accompanied by a broad smile, even when you are well acquainted, and yet a high authority well says: "you should never speak to an acquaintance without a smile in your eyes." deference to elderly people. a young lady should show the same deference to an elderly lady that a gentleman does to a lady. it may also be said that a young man should show proper deference to elderly gentlemen. words of salutation. the words commonly used in saluting a person are "good morning," "good afternoon," "good evening," "how do you do" (sometimes contracted into "howdy" and "how dye do,") and "how are you." the three former are most appropriate, as it seems somewhat absurd to ask after a person's health, unless you stop to receive an answer. a respectful bow should accompany the words. shaking hands. among friends the shaking of the hand is the most genuine and cordial expression of good-will. it is not necessary, though in certain cases it is not forbidden, upon introduction; but when acquaintanceship has reached any degree of intimacy, it is perfectly proper. etiquette of handshaking. an authority upon this subject says: "the etiquette of handshaking is simple. a man has no right to take a lady's hand until it is offered. he has even less right to pinch or retain it. two young ladies shake hands gently and softly. a young lady gives her hand, but does not shake a gentleman's unless she is his friend. a lady should always rise to give her hand; a gentleman, of course, never dares to do so seated. on introduction in a room, a married lady generally offers her hand; a young lady, not. in a ball-room, where the introduction is to dancing, not to friendship, you never shake hands; and as a general rule, an introduction is not followed by shaking hands, only by a bow. it may perhaps be laid down that the more public the place of introduction, the less handshaking takes place. but if the introduction be particular, if it be accompanied by personal recommendation, such as, 'i want you to know my friend jones,' or if jones comes with a letter of presentation, then you give jones your hand, and warmly, too. lastly, it is the privilege of a superior to offer or withhold his or her hand, so that an inferior should never put his forward first." when a lady so far puts aside her reserve as to shake hands at all, she should give her hand with frankness and cordiality. there should be equal frankness and cordiality on the gentleman's part, and even more warmth, though a careful avoidance of anything like offensive familiarity or that which might be mistaken as such. in shaking hands, the right hand should always be offered, unless it be so engaged as to make it impossible, and then an excuse should be offered. the french give the left hand, as nearest the heart. the mistress of a household should offer her hand to every guest invited to her house. a gentleman must not shake hands with a lady until she has made the first move in that direction. it is a mark of rudeness not to give his hand instantly, should she extend her own. a married lady should always extend her hand to a stranger brought to her house by a common friend, as an evidence of her cordial welcome. where an introduction is for dancing there is no shaking of hands. the kiss. this is the most affectionate form of salutation, and is only proper among near relations and dear friends. the kiss of friendship. the kiss of friendship and relationship is on the cheeks and forehead. in this country this act of affection is generally excluded from public eyes, and in the case of parents and children and near relations, it is perhaps unnecessarily so. kissing in public. the custom which has become quite prevalent of women kissing each other whenever they meet in public, is regarded as vulgar, and by ladies of delicacy and refinement is entirely avoided. the kiss of respect. the kiss of respect--almost obsolete in this country--is made on the hand. the custom is retained in germany and among gentlemen of the most courtly manners in england. [illustration] chapter v. etiquette of calls. there are calls of ceremony, of condolence, of congratulation and of friendship. all but the latter are usually of short duration. the call of friendship is usually of less formality and may be of some length. morning calls. "morning calls," as they are termed, should not be made earlier than p.m., nor later than p.m. a morning call should not exceed half an hour in length. from ten to twenty minutes is ordinarily quite long enough. if other visitors come in, the visit should terminate as speedily as possible. upon leaving, bow slightly to the strangers. in making a call be careful to avoid the luncheon and dinner hour of your friends. from two until five is ordinarily the most convenient time for morning calls. evening calls. it is sometimes more convenient for both the caller and those called upon that the call should be made in the evening. an evening call should never be made later than nine o'clock, nor be prolonged after ten, neither should it exceed an hour in length. rules for formal calls. the lady of the house rises upon the entrance of her visitors, who at once advance to pay their respects to her before speaking to others. if too many callers are present to enable her to take the lead in conversation, she pays special attention to the latest arrivals, watching to see that no one is left alone, and talking to each of her guests in succession, or seeing that some one is doing so. a lady who is not in her own house does not rise, either on the arrival or departure of ladies, unless there is some great difference of age. attention to the aged is one of the marks of good breeding which is never neglected by the thoughtful and refined. it is not customary to introduce residents of the same city, unless the hostess knows that an introduction will be agreeable to both parties. strangers in the place are always introduced. ladies and gentlemen who meet in the drawing-room of a common friend are privileged to speak to each other without an introduction; though gentlemen generally prefer to ask for introductions. when introduced to any one, bow slightly, and enter at once into conversation. it shows a lack of good breeding not to do so. when introductions are given, it is the gentleman who should be presented to the lady; when two ladies are introduced, it is the younger who is presented to the older. a lady receiving gives her hand to a stranger as to a friend, when she wishes to bestow some mark of cordiality in welcoming a guest to her home, but a gentleman should not take the initiatory in handshaking. it is the lady's privilege to give or withhold, as she chooses. a gentleman rises when those ladies with whom he is talking rise to take their leave. he also rises upon the entrance of ladies, but he does not offer seats to those entering, unless in his own house, or unless requested to do so by the hostess, and then he does not offer his own chair if others are available. a call should not be less than fifteen minutes in duration, nor should it be so long as to become tedious. a bore is a person who does not know when you have had enough of his or her company, and gives more of it than is desirable. choose a time to leave when there is a lull in the conversation, and the hostess is not occupied with fresh arrivals. then take leave of your hostess, bowing to those you know as you leave the room, not to each in turn, but let one bow include all. calls ought to be made within three days after a dinner or tea party, if it is a first invitation; and if not, within a week. after a party or a ball, whether you have accepted the invitation or not, you call within a week. a lady who has no regular reception day will endeavor to receive callers at any time. if she is occupied, she will instruct her servant to say that she is engaged; but a visitor once admitted into the house must be seen at any inconvenience. a lady should never keep a caller waiting without sending to see whether a delay of a few minutes will inconvenience the caller. servants should be instructed to return and announce to the person waiting that the lady will be down immediately. any delay whatever should be apologized for. if, on making a call, you are introduced into a room where you are unknown to those assembled, at once give your name and mention upon whom your call is made. in meeting a lady or gentleman whose name you cannot recall, frankly say so, if you find it necessary. sensible persons will prefer to recall themselves to your memory rather than to feel that you are talking to them without fully recognizing them. to affect not to remember a person is despicable, and reflects only on the pretender. gentlemen, as well as ladies, when making formal calls, send in but one card, no matter how many members of the family they may wish to see. if a guest is stopping at the house, the same rule is observed. if not at home, one card is left for the lady, and one for the guest. the card for the lady may be folded so as to include the family. rules for summer resorts. at places of summer resort, those who own their cottages, call first upon those who rent them, and those who rent, in turn, call upon each other, according to priority of arrival. in all these cases there are exceptions; as, where there is any great difference in ages, the younger then calling upon the older, if there has been a previous acquaintance or exchange of calls. if there has been no previous acquaintance or exchange of calls, the older lady pays the first call, unless she takes the initiative by inviting the younger to call upon her, or by sending her an invitation to some entertainment, which she is about to give. when the occupants of two villas, who have arrived the same season, meet at the house of a common friend, and the older of the two uses her privilege of inviting the other to call, it would be a positive rudeness not to call; and the sooner the call is made, the more civil will it be considered. it is equally rude, when one lady asks permission of another to bring a friend to call, and then neglects to do it, after permission has been given. if the acquaintance is not desired, the first call can be the last. calls made by cards. only calls of pure ceremony--such as are made previous to an entertainment on those persons who are not to be invited, and to whom you are indebted for any attentions--are made by handing in cards; nor can a call in person be returned by cards. exceptions to this rule comprise p.p.c. calls, cards left or sent by persons in mourning, and those which announce a lady's day for receiving calls, on her return to town, after an absence. reception days. some ladies receive only on certain days or evenings, which are once a week, once a fortnight, or once a month as the case may be, and the time is duly announced by cards. when a lady has made this rule it is considerate, on the part of her friends, to observe it, for it is sometimes regarded as an intrusion to call at any other time. the reason of her having made this rule may have been to prevent the loss of too much time from her duties, in the receiving of calls from her friends. calls after betrothal. when a betrothal takes place and it is formally announced to the relatives and friends on both sides, calls of congratulation follow. the bridegroom that is to be, is introduced by the family of the proposed bride to their connections and most intimate friends, and his family in return introduce her to relatives and acquaintances whom they desire her to know. the simplest way of bringing this about is by the parents leaving the cards of the betrothed, with their own, upon all families on their visiting list whom they wish to have the betrothed pair visit. the cards and calls of strangers. strangers arriving are expected to send their cards to their acquaintances, bearing their direction, as an announcement that they are in the city. this rule is often neglected, but, unless it is observed, strangers may be a long time in town without their presence being known. returning a first call. a first call ought to be returned within three or four days. a longer delay than a week is considered an intimation that you are unwilling to accept the new acquaintance, unless some excuse for the remissness is made. forming acquaintance. in an event of exchange of calls between two ladies, without meeting, who are known to each other only by sight, they should upon the first opportunity, make themselves acquainted with one another. the younger should seek the older, or the one who has been the recipient of the first attention should introduce herself, or seek an introduction, but it is not necessary to stand upon ceremony on such points. ladies knowing each other by sight, bow, after an exchange of cards. the first call. when it becomes a question as to who shall call first, between old residents, the older should take the initiatory. ladies, who have been in the habit of meeting for sometime without exchanging calls, sometimes say to each other: "i hope you will come and see me!" and often the answer is made: "oh, you must come and see me first!" that answer could only be given, with propriety, by a lady who is much the older of the two. the lady who extends the invitation makes the first advance, and the one who receives it should at least say: "i thank you--you are very kind," and then accept the invitation or not, as it pleases her. it is the custom for residents to make the first call upon strangers. calls of congratulation. calls of congratulation are made when any happy or auspicious event may have occurred in the family visited--such as a birth, marriage, or any piece of good fortune. such visits may be made either similar to the morning or the evening call. such visits may also be made upon the appointment of friends to any important office or honored position, or when a friend has distinguished himself by a notable public address or oration. p.p.c. calls. when persons are going abroad to be absent for a considerable period, if they have not time or inclination to take leave of all their friends by making formal calls, they will send to each of their friends a card with the letters p.p.c. written upon it. they are the initials of "pour prendre conge"--to take leave--and may with propriety stand for "presents parting compliments." on returning home, it is customary that friends should first call upon them. a neglect to do so, unless for some good excuse, is sufficient cause to drop their acquaintance. in taking leave of a family, you send as many cards as you would if you were paying an ordinary visit. visits of condolence. visits of condolence should be made within a week after the event which occasioned them; but if the acquaintance be slight, immediately after the family appear at public worship. a card should be sent in, and if your friends are able to receive you, your manners and conversation should be in harmony with the character of your visit. it is deemed courteous to send in a mourning card; and for ladies to make their calls in black silk or plain-colored apparel. it denotes that they sympathize with the afflictions of the family, and a warm, heartfelt sympathy is always appreciated. evening visits. evening visits are paid only to those with whom we are well acquainted. they should not be frequent, even where one is intimate, nor should they be protracted to a great length. frequent visits are apt to become tiresome to your friends or acquaintances, and long visits may entitle you to the appellation of "bore." if you should happen to pay an evening visit at a house where a small party had assembled, unknown to you, present yourself and converse for a few minutes with an unembarrassed air, after which you may leave, pleading as an excuse that you had only intended to make a short call. an invitation to stay and spend the evening, given for the sake of courtesy, should not be accepted. if urged very strongly to remain, and the company is an informal gathering, you may with propriety consent to do so. keep an account of calls. a person should keep a strict account of ceremonial calls, and take note of how soon calls are returned. by doing so, an opinion can be formed as to how frequently visits are desired. instances may occur, when, in consequence of age or ill health, calls should be made without any reference to their being returned. it must be remembered that nothing must interrupt the discharge of this duty. calls of ceremony among friends. among relatives and friends, calls of mere ceremony are unnecessary. it is, however, needful to make suitable calls, and to avoid staying too long, if your friend is engaged. the courtesies of society should be maintained among the nearest friends, and even the domestic circle. "engaged" or "not at home." if a lady is so employed that she cannot receive callers she should charge the servant who goes to answer the bell to say that she is "engaged" or "not at home." this will prove sufficient with all well-bred people. the servant should have her orders to say "engaged" or "not at home" before any one has called, so that the lady shall avoid all risk of being obliged to inconvenience herself in receiving company when she has intended to deny herself. if there are to be exceptions made in favor of any individual or individuals, mention their names specially to the servant, adding that you will see them if they call, but to all others you are "engaged." a lady should always be dressed sufficiently well to receive company, and not keep them waiting while she is making her toilet. a well-bred person always endeavors to receive visitors at whatever time they call, or whoever they may be, but there are times when it is impossible to do so, and then, of course, a servant is instructed beforehand to say "not at home" to the visitor. if, however, the servant admits the visitor and he is seated in the drawing room or parlor, it is the duty of the hostess to receive him or her at whatever inconvenience it may be to herself. when you call upon persons, and are informed at the door that the parties whom you ask for are engaged, you should never insist in an attempt to be admitted, but should acquiesce at once in any arrangements which they have made for their convenience, and to protect themselves from interruption. however intimate you may be in any house you have no right, when an order has been given to exclude general visitors, and no exception has been made of you, to violate that exclusion, and declare that the party should be at home to you. there are times and seasons when a person desires to be left entirely alone, and at such times there is no friendship for which she would give up her occupation or her solitude. general rules regarding calls. a gentleman in making a formal call should retain his hat and gloves in his hand on entering the room. the hat should not be laid upon a table or stand, but kept in the hand, unless it is found necessary from some cause to set it down. in that case, place it upon the floor. an umbrella should be left in the hall. in an informal evening call, the hat, gloves, overcoat and cane may be left in the hall. a lady, in making a call, may bring a stranger, even a gentleman, with her, without previous permission. a gentleman, however, should never take the same liberty. no one should prolong a call if the person upon whom the call is made is found dressed ready to go out. a lady should be more richly dressed when calling on her friends than for an ordinary walk. a lady should never call upon a gentleman except upon some business, officially or professionally. never allow young children, dogs or pets of any sort to accompany you in a call. they often prove disagreeable and troublesome. two persons out of one family, or at most three, are all that should call together. it is not customary in cities to offer refreshments to callers. in the country, where the caller has come from some distance, it is exceedingly hospitable to do so. calls in the country may be less ceremonious and of longer duration, than those made in the city. a person making a call should not, while waiting for a hostess, touch an open piano, walk about the room examining pictures, nor handle any ornament in the room. if there is a stranger visiting at the house of a friend, the acquaintances of the family should be punctilious to call at an early date. never offer to go to the room of an invalid upon whom you have called, but wait for an invitation to do so. in receiving morning calls, it is unnecessary for a lady to lay aside any employment, not of an absorbing nature upon which she may happen to be engaged. embroidery, crocheting or light needle-work are perfectly in harmony with the requirements of the hour, and the lady looks much better employed than in absolute idleness. a lady should pay equal attention to all her guests. the display of unusual deference is alone allowable when distinguished rank or reputation or advanced age justifies it. a guest should take the seat indicated by the hostess. a gentleman should never seat himself on a sofa beside her, nor in a chair in immediate proximity, unless she specially invites him to do so. a lady need not lay aside her bonnet during a formal call, even though urged to do so. if the call be a friendly and unceremonious one, she may do so if she thinks proper, but not without an invitation. a gentleman caller must not look at his watch during a call, unless, in doing so, he pleads some engagement and asks to be excused. formal calls are generally made twice a year; but only once a year is binding, when no invitations have been received that require calls in return. in calling upon a person living at a hotel or boarding-house, it is customary to stop in the parlor and send your card to the room of the person called upon. when a person has once risen to take leave, he should not be persuaded to prolong his stay. callers should take special pains to make their visits opportune. on the other hand, a lady should always receive her callers, at whatever hour or day they come, if it is possible to do so. when a gentleman has called and not found the lady at home, it is civility on the part of the lady, upon the occasion of their next meeting, to express her regret at not seeing him. he should reciprocate the regret, and not reply unthinkingly or awkwardly: "oh, it made no particular difference," "it was of no great consequence," or words to that effect. after you have visited a friend at her country seat, or after receiving an invitation to visit her, a call is due her upon her return to her town residence. this is one of the occasions when a call should be made promptly and in person, unless you have a reason for wishing to discontinue the acquaintance; even then it would be more civil to take another opportunity for dropping a friend who wished to show a civility, unless her character has been irretrievably lost in the meantime. new-year's calls. the custom of new-year's calling is prevalent in all cities, and most villages in the country, and so agreeable a custom is it, that it is becoming more in favor every year. this is the day when gentlemen keep up their acquaintanceship with ladies and families, some of whom they are unable to see, probably, during the whole year. of late it has been customary in many cities to publish in one or more newspapers, a day or two before new years, a list of the ladies who will receive calls on that day, and from this list gentlemen arrange their calls. for convenience and to add to the pleasure of the day, several ladies frequently unite in receiving calls at the residence of one of their number, but this is usually done when only one or two members of a family can receive. where there are several members of a family, who can do so, they usually receive at their own home. gentlemen call either singly, in couples, by threes or fours and sometimes even more, in carriages or on foot, as they choose. calls commence about ten o'clock in the morning, and continue until about nine in the evening. when the gentlemen go in parties, they call upon the lady friends of each, and if all are not acquainted, those who are, introduce the others. the length of a call is usually from five to fifteen minutes, but it is often governed by circumstances, and may be prolonged to even an hour. refreshments are usually provided for the callers, and should always be offered, but it is not necessary that they should be accepted. if not accepted, an apology should be tendered, with thanks for the offer. the refreshments may consist of oysters, raw or scalloped, cold meats, salads, fruits, cakes, sandwiches, etc., and hot tea and coffee. when callers are ushered into the reception-room, they are met by the ladies, when introductions are given, and the callers are invited to remove their overcoats, but it is optional with them whether they do so or not. it is also optional with them whether they remove their gloves. when gentlemen are introduced to ladies in making new-year's calls, they are not thereby warranted in calling again upon any of these ladies, unless especially invited to do so. it is the lady's pleasure whether the acquaintance shall be maintained. in making new-year's calls, a gentleman leaves one card, whatever may be the number of ladies receiving with the hostess. if there is a basket at the door, he leaves a card for each of the ladies at the house, including lady guests of the family, provided there are any. the new-year's card should not differ from an ordinary calling card. it should be plain, with the name engraved, or printed in neat script. it is not now considered in good taste to have "happy new year" or other words upon it, unless it may be the residence of the gentleman, which may be printed or written in the right hand corner, if deemed desirable. a gentleman does not make calls the first new-year's after his marriage, but receives at home with his wife. [illustration] chapter vi. etiquette of visiting. some of the social observances pertaining to visiting away from one's own home, and accepting the hospitalities of friends, are here given, and are applicable to ladies and gentlemen alike. general invitations. no one should accept a general invitation for a prolonged visit. "do come and spend some time with me" may be said with all earnestness and cordiality, but to give the invitation real meaning the date should be definitely fixed and the length of time stated. a person who pays a visit upon a general invitation need not be surprised if he finds himself as unwelcome as he is unexpected. his friends may be absent from home, or their house may be already full, or they may not have made arrangements for visitors. from these and other causes they may be greatly inconvenienced by an unexpected arrival. it would be well if people would abstain altogether from this custom of giving general invitations, which really mean nothing, and be scrupulous to invite their desired guests at a stated time and for a given period. limit of a prolonged visit. if no exact length of time is specified, it is well for visitors to limit a visit to three days or a week, according to the degree of intimacy they may have with the family, or the distance they have come to pay the visit, announcing this limitation soon after arrival, so that the host and the hostess may invite a prolongation of the stay if they desire it, or so that they can make their arrangements in accordance. one never likes to ask of a guest, "how long do you intend to remain?" yet it is often most desirable to know. true hospitality. offer your guests the best that you have in the way of food and rooms, and express no regrets, and make no excuses that you have nothing better to give them. try to make your guests feel at home; and do this, not by urging them in empty words to do so, but by making their stay as pleasant as possible, at the same time being careful to put out of sight any trifling trouble or inconvenience they may cause you. devote as much time as is consistent with other engagements to the amusement and entertainment of your guests. duties of the visitor. on the other hand, the visitor should try to conform as much as possible to the habits of the house which temporarily shelters him. he should never object to the hours at which meals are served, nor should he ever allow the family to be kept waiting on his account. it is a good rule for a visitor to retire to his own apartment in the morning, or at least seek out some occupation or amusement of his own, without seeming to need the assistance or attention of host or hostess; for it is undeniable that these have certain duties which must be attended to at this portion of the day, in order to leave the balance of the time free for the entertainment of their guests. if any family matters of a private or unpleasant nature come to the knowledge of the guest during his stay, he must seem both blind and deaf, and never refer to them unless the parties interested speak of them first. the rule on which a host and hostess should act is to make their guests as much at ease as possible; that on which a visitor should act is to interfere as little as possible with the ordinary routine of the house. it is not required that a hostess should spend her whole time in the entertainment of her guests. the latter may prefer to be left to their own devices for a portion of the day. on the other hand, it shows the worst of breeding for a visitor to seclude himself from the family and seek his own amusements and occupations regardless of their desire to join in them or entertain him. you should try to hold yourself at the disposal of those whom you are visiting. if they propose to you to ride, to drive or walk, you should acquiesce as far as your strength will permit, and do your best to seem pleased at the efforts made to entertain you. you should not accept invitations without consulting your host. you should not call upon the servants to do errands for you, or to wait upon you too much, nor keep the family up after hours of retiring. if you have observed anything to the disadvantage of your friends, while partaking of their hospitality, it should never be mentioned, either while you are under their roof or afterwards. speak only of what redounds to their praise and credit. this feeling ought to be mutual between host and guest. whatever good is observed in either may be commented upon, but the curtain of silence must be drawn over their faults. give as little trouble as possible when a guest, but at the same time never think of apologizing for any little additional trouble which your visit may occasion. it would imply that you thought your friends incapable of entertaining you without some inconvenience to themselves. keep your room as neat as possible, and leave no articles of dress or toilet around to give trouble to servants. a lady guest will not hesitate to make her own bed, if few or no servants are kept; and in the latter case she will do whatever else she can to lighten the labors of her hostess as a return for the additional exertion her visit occasions. invitations to guests. any invitation given to a lady guest should also include the hostess, and the guest is justified in declining to accept any invitation unless the hostess is also invited. invitations received by the hostess should include the guest. thus, at all places of amusement and entertainment, guest and host may be together. forbearance with children. a guest should not notice nor find fault with the bad behavior of the children in the household where visiting, and should put up with any of their faults, and overlook any ill-bred or disagreeable actions on their part. guests making presents. if a guest wishes to make a present to any member of the family she is visiting, it should be to the hostess, or if to any of the children, to the youngest in preference, though it is usually better to give it to the mother. upon returning home, when the guest writes to the hostess, she expresses her thanks for the hospitality, and requests to be remembered to the family. treatment of a host's friends. if you are a guest, you must be very cautious as to the treatment of the friends of your host or hostess. if you do not care to be intimate with them, you must be careful not to show a dislike for them, or that you wish to avoid them. you must be exceedingly polite and agreeable to them, avoiding any special familiarity, and keep them at a distance without hurting their feelings. do not say to your host or hostess that you do not like any of their friends. leave-taking. upon taking leave, express the pleasure you have experienced in your visit. upon returning home it is an act of courtesy to write and inform your friends of your safe arrival, at the same time repeating your thanks. a host and hostess should do all they can to make the visit of a friend agreeable; they should urge him to stay as long as it is consistent with his own plans, and at the same time convenient to themselves. but when the time for departure has been fully fixed upon, no obstacle should be placed in the way of leave-taking. help him in every possible way to depart, at the same time giving him a cordial invitation to renew the visit at some future period. "welcome the coming, speed the parting, guest," expresses the true spirit of hospitality. [illustration] chapter vii. visiting and calling cards. an authentic writer upon visiting cards says: "to the unrefined or underbred, the visiting card is but a trifling and insignificant bit of paper; but to the cultured disciple of social law, it conveys a subtle and unmistakable intelligence. its texture, style of engraving, and even the hour of leaving it combine to place the stranger, whose name it bears, in a pleasant or a disagreeable attitude, even before his manners, conversation and face have been able to explain his social position. the higher the civilization of a community, the more careful it is to preserve the elegance of its social forms. it is quite as easy to express a perfect breeding in the fashionable formalities of cards, as by any other method, and perhaps, indeed, it is the safest herald of an introduction for a stranger. its texture should be fine, its engraving a plain script, its size neither too small, so that its recipients shall say to themselves, 'a whimsical person,' nor too large to suggest ostentation. refinement seldom touches extremes in anything." calling cards. a card used in calling should have nothing upon it but the name of the caller. a lady's card should not bear her place of residence; such cards having, of late, been appropriated by the members of the demi-monde. the street and number always look better upon the card of the husband than upon that of the wife. when necessary, they can be added in pencil on the cards of the wife and daughter. a business card should never be used for a friendly call. a physician may put the prefix "dr.," or the affix "m.d.," upon his card, and an army or navy officer his rank and branch of service. wedding cards. wedding cards are only sent to those people whom the newly married couple desire to keep among their acquaintances, and it is then the duty of those receiving the cards to call first on the young couple. an ancient custom, but one which has been recently revived, is for the friends of the bride and groom to send cards; these are of great variety in size and design, and resemble christmas or easter cards but are usually more artistic. christmas and easter cards. a very charming custom that is coming into vogue is the giving or sending of easter and christmas cards. these are of such elegant designs and variety of colors that the stationer takes great pride in decorating his shop windows with them; indeed some of them are so elegant as to resemble oil paintings. books and other small offerings may accompany cards as a token of remembrance. cards to serve for calls. a person may make a card serve the purpose of a call, and it may either be sent in an envelope, by messenger or left in person. if left in person, one corner should be turned down. to indicate that a call is made on all or several members of the family; the card for the lady of the house is folded in the middle. if guests are visiting at the house, a card is left for each guest. enclosing a card in an envelope. to return a call made in person with a card inclosed in an envelope, is an intimation that visiting between the parties is ended. those who leave or send their cards with no such intention, should not inclose them in an envelope. an exception to this rule is where they are sent in return to the newly married living in other cities, or in answering wedding cards forwarded when absent from home. p.p.c. cards are also sent in this way, and are the only cards that it is as yet universally considered admissible to send by post. size and style of visiting or calling cards. a medium sized is in better taste than a very large card for married persons. cards bearing the name of the husband alone are smaller. the cards of unmarried men should also be small. the engraving in simple writing is preferred, and without flourishes. nothing in cards can be more commonplace than large printed letters, be the type what it may. young men should dispense with the "mr." before their names. [illustration: calling cards.] corners of cards turned down. the signification of turning down the corners of cards are: _visite_--the right hand upper corner. _felicitation_--the left hand upper corner. _condolence_--the left hand lower corner. _p.p.c._ } _to take leave_ } the right hand lower corner. card, right hand end turned down--_delivered in person._ card for mother and daughter. the name of young ladies are sometimes printed or engraved on their mother's cards; both in script. it is, of course, allowable, for the daughter to have cards of her own. some ladies have adopted the fashion of having the daughter's name on the same card with their own and their husband's names. glazed cards. glazed cards are quite out of fashion, as are cards and note paper with gilt edges. the fashion in cards, however, change so often, that what is in style one year, may not be the next. p.p.c. cards. a card left at a farewell visit, before a long protracted absence, has "p.p.c." (pour prendre conge) written in one corner. it is not necessary to deliver such cards in person, for they may be sent by a messenger, or by post if necessary. p.p.c. cards are not left when the absence from home is only for a few months, nor by persons starting in mid-summer for a foreign country, as residents are then supposed to be out of town. they are sent to or left with friends by ladies just previous to their contemplated marriage to serve the purpose of a call. cards of congratulation. cards of congratulation must be left in person, or a congratulatory note, if desired, can be made to serve instead of a call; excepting upon the newly married. calls in person are due to them, and to the parents who have invited you to the marriage. when there has been a reception after the ceremony, which you have been unable to attend, but have sent cards by some member of your family, your cards need not again represent you until they have been returned, with the new residence announced; but a call is due to the parents or relatives who have given the reception. when no wedding cards are sent you, nor the card of the bridegroom, you cannot call without being considered intrusive. one month after the birth of a child the call of congratulation is made by acquaintances. leave cards in making first call. in making the first calls of the season (in the autumn) both ladies and gentlemen should leave a card each, at every house called upon, even if the ladies are receiving. the reason of this is that where a lady is receiving morning calls, it would be too great a tax upon her memory to oblige her to keep in mind what calls she has to return or which of them have been returned, and in making out lists for inviting informally, it is often the card-stand which is first searched for bachelors' cards, to meet the emergency. young men should be careful to write their street and number on their cards. leave cards after an invitation. after an invitation, cards must be left upon those who have sent it, whether it is accepted or not. they must be left in person, and if it is desired to end the acquaintance the cards can be left without inquiring whether the ladies are at home. gentlemen should not expect to receive invitations from ladies with whom they are only on terms of formal visiting, until the yearly or autumnal call has been made, or until their cards have been left to represent themselves. cards in memoriam. these are a loving tribute to the memory of the departed; an english custom rapidly gaining favor with us; it announces to friends the death, of which they might remain in ignorance but for this mark of respect: [illustration: george a. custer lieutenant-colonel seventh cavalry, brevet major-general united states army, born december th, , harrison county, ohio, killed, with his entire command, in the battle of little big horn, june th, . * * * * * oh, custer--gallant custer! man fore-doomed go ride, like rupert, spurred and waving-plumed, into the very jaws of death.] cards of condolence. cards of condolence left by mere acquaintances must be returned by "mourning cards" before such persons feel at liberty to make a call. when the bereaved are ready to receive calls (instead of the cards) of their acquaintances, "mourning cards" in envelopes, or otherwise, are returned to all those who have left their cards since the death, which was the occasion of the cards being left. intimate friends, of course, do not wait for cards, but continue their calls, without regard to any ceremonious observances made for the protection of the bereaved. acquaintances leaving cards should inquire after the health of the family, leaving the cards in person. mourning cards. on announcement of a death it is correct to call in person at the door; to make inquiries and leave your card, with lower left hand corner turned down. unless close intimacy exists, it is not usage to ask to see the afflicted. cards can be sent to express sympathy, but notes of condolence are permissible only from intimate friends. a bridegroom's card. when only the family and the most intimate friends of a bride and bridegroom have been included in the invitation for the marriage, or where there has been no reception after the marriage at church, the bridegroom often sends his bachelor card (inclosed in an envelope) to those of his acquaintances with whom he wishes to continue on visiting terms. those who receive a card should call on the bride, within ten days after she has taken possession of her home. some persons have received such a card as an intimation that the card was to end the acquaintance. this mistake shows the necessity of a better understanding of social customs. [illustration] chapter viii. conversation. the character of a person is revealed by his conversation as much as by any one quality he possesses, for strive as he may he cannot always be acting. importance of conversing well. to be able to converse well is an attainment which should be cultivated by every intelligent man and woman. it is better to be a good talker than a good singer or musician, because the former is more widely appreciated, and the company of a person who is able to talk well on a great variety of subjects, is much sought after. the importance, therefore, of cultivating the art of conversation, cannot easily be over-estimated. it should be the aim of all intelligent persons to acquire the habit of talking sensibly and with facility upon all topics of general interest to society, so that they may both interest others and be themselves interested, in whatever company they may chance to be thrown. training children. the training for this should be commenced in early childhood. parents should not only encourage their children to express themselves freely upon everything that attracts their attention and interests them, but they should also incite their faculties of perception, memory and close observation, by requiring them to recount everything, even to its minutest details, that they may have observed in walking to and from school, or in taking a ride in a carriage or in the cars. by training a child to a close observation of everything he meets or passes, his mind becomes very active, and the habit having once been acquired, he becomes interested in a great variety of objects; sees more and enjoys more than one who has not been so trained. cultivating the memory. a good memory is an invaluable aid in acquiring the art of conversation, and the cultivation and training of this faculty is a matter of importance. early youth is the proper time to begin this training, and parents and teachers should give special attention to the cultivation of memory. when children are taken to church, or to hear a lecture, they should be required to relate or to write down from memory, such a digest of the sermon or lecture as they can remember. adults may also adopt this plan for cultivating the memory, and they will be surprised to find how continued practice in this will improve this faculty. the practice of taking notes impairs rather than aids the memory, for then a person relies almost entirely in the notes taken, and does not tax the memory sufficiently. a person should also train himself to remember the names of persons whom he becomes acquainted with, so as to recall them whenever or wherever he may subsequently meet them. it is related of a large wholesale boot and shoe merchant of an eastern city, that he was called upon one day by one of his best customers, residing in a distant city, whom he had frequently met, but whose name, at the time, he could not recall, and received his order for a large bill of goods. as he was about to leave, the merchant asked his name, when the customer indignantly replied that he supposed he was known by a man from whom he had purchased goods for many years, and countermanding his order, he left the store, deaf to all attempts at explanation. though this may be an extreme case, it illustrates the importance of remembering the names of people when circumstances require it. henry clay's memory of names. one secret of henry clay's popularity as a politician was his faculty of remembering the names of persons he had met. it is said of him that if he was once introduced to a person, he was ever afterwards able to call him by name, and recount the circumstances of their first meeting. this faculty he cultivated after he entered upon the practice of law in kentucky, and soon after he began his political life. at that time his memory for names was very poor, and he resolved to improve it. he adopted the practice, just before retiring at night, of recalling the names of all the persons he had met during the day, writing them in a note book, and repeating over the list the next morning. by this practice, he acquired in time, his wonderful faculty in remembering the names of persons he had become acquainted with. writing as an aid to correct talking. to converse correctly--to use correct language in conversation--is also a matter of importance, and while this can be acquired by a strict attention to grammatical rules, it can be greatly facilitated by the habit of writing down one's thoughts. in writing, strict regard is, or should be, paid to the correct use of language, and when a person, from constant writing, acquires the habit of using correct language, this habit will follow him in talking. a person who is accustomed to much writing, will always be found to use language correctly in speaking. requisites for a good talker. to be a good talker then, one should be possessed of much general information, acquired by keen observation, attentive listening, a good memory, extensive reading and study, logical habits of thought, and have a correct knowledge of the use of language. he should also aim at a clear intonation, well chosen phraseology and correct accent. these acquirements are within the reach of every person of ordinary ability, who has a determination to possess them, and the energy and perseverance to carry out that determination. vulgarisms. in conversation, one must scrupulously guard against vulgarisms. simplicity and terseness of language are the characteristics of a well educated and highly cultivated person. it is the uneducated or those who are but half educated, who use long words and high-sounding phrases. a hyperbolical way of speaking is mere flippancy, and should be avoided. such phrases as "awfully pretty," "immensely jolly," "abominably stupid," "disgustingly mean," are of this nature, and should be avoided. awkwardness of attitude is equally as bad as awkwardness of speech. lolling, gesticulating, fidgeting, handling an eye-glass or watch chain and the like, give an air of _gaucherie_, and take off a certain percentage from the respect of others. listening. the habit of listening with interest and attention is one which should be specially cultivated. even if the talker is prosy and prolix, the well-bred person will appear interested, and at appropriate intervals make such remarks as shall show that he has heard and understood all that has been said. some superficial people are apt to style this hypocrisy; but if it is, it is certainly a commendable hypocrisy, directly founded on that strict rule of good manners which commands us to show the same courtesy to others that we hope to receive ourselves. we are commanded to check our impulses, conceal our dislikes, and even modify our likings whenever or wherever these are liable to give offense or pain to others. the person who turns away with manifest displeasure, disgust or want of interest when another is addressing him, is guilty not only of an ill-bred, but a cruel act. flippancy. in conversation all provincialism, affectations of foreign accents, mannerisms, exaggerations and slang are detestable. equally to be avoided are inaccuracies of expression, hesitation, an undue use of foreign words, and anything approaching to flippancy, coarseness, triviality or provocation. gentlemen sometimes address ladies in a very flippant manner, which the latter are obliged to pass over without notice, for various reasons, while inwardly they rebel. many a worthy man has done himself an irreparable injury by thus creating a lasting prejudice in the minds of those whom he might have made his friends, had he addressed them as though he considered them rational beings, capable of sustaining their part in a conversation upon sensible subjects. flippancy is as much an evidence of ill-breeding as is the perpetual smile, the wandering eye, the vacant stare, and the half-opened mouth of the man who is preparing to break in upon the conversation. be sympathetic and animated. do not go into society unless you make up your mind to be sympathetic, unselfish, animating, as well as animated. society does not require mirth, but it does demand cheerfulness and unselfishness, and you must help to make and sustain cheerful conversation. the manner of conversation is as important as the matter. compliments. compliments are said by some to be inadmissible. but between equals, or from those of superior position to those of inferior station, compliments should be not only acceptable but gratifying. it is pleasant to know that our friends think well of us, and it is always agreeable to know that we are thought well of by those who hold higher positions, such as men of superior talent, or women of superior culture. compliments which are not sincere, are only flattery and should be avoided; but the saying of kind things, which is natural to the kind heart, and which confers pleasure, should be cultivated, at least not suppressed. those parents who strive most for the best mode of training their children are said to have found that it is never wise to censure them for a fault, without preparing the way by some judicious mention of their good qualities. slang. all slang is vulgar. it lowers the tone of society and the standard of thought. it is a great mistake to suppose that slang is in any manner witty. only the very young or the uncultivated so consider it. flattery. do not be guilty of flattery. the flattery of those richer than ourselves or better born is vulgar, and born of rudeness, and is sure to be received as emanating from unworthy motives. testify your respect, your admiration, and your gratitude by deeds more than words. words are easy but deeds are difficult. few will believe the former, but the latter will carry confirmation with them. scandal and gossip. scandal is the least excusable of all conversational vulgarities. envy prompts the tongue of the slanderer. jealousy is the disturber of the harmony of all interests. a writer on this subject says: "gossip is a troublesome sort of insect that only buzzes about your ears and never bites deep; slander is the beast of prey that leaps upon you from its den and tears you in pieces. slander is the proper object of rage; gossip of contempt." those who best understand the nature of gossip and slander, if the victims of both, will take no notice of the former, but will allow no slander of themselves to go unrefuted during their lifetime, to spring up in a hydra-headed attack upon their children. no woman can be too sensitive as to any charges affecting her moral character, whether in the influence of her companionship, or in the influence of her writings. religion and politics. religion and politics are topics that should never be introduced into general conversation, for they are subjects dangerous to harmony. persons are most likely to differ, and least likely to preserve their tempers on these topics. long arguments in general company, however entertaining to the disputants, are very tiresome to the hearers. satire and ridicule. young persons appear ridiculous when satirizing or ridiculing books, people or things. opinions to be worth the consideration of others should have the advantage of coming from mature persons. cultivated people are not in the habit of resorting to such weapons as satire and ridicule. they find too much to correct in themselves to indulge in coarse censure of the conduct of others, who may not have had advantages equal to their own. titles. in addressing persons with titles always add the name; as "what do you think of it, doctor hayes?" not "what do you think of it, doctor?" in speaking of foreigners the reverse of the english rule is observed. no matter what the title of a frenchman is, he is always addressed as _monsieur_, and you never omit the word _madame_, whether addressing a duchess or a dressmaker. the former is "_madame la duchesse_," the latter plain "_madame_." always give a foreigner his title. if general sherman travels in europe and is received by the best classes with the dignity that his worth, culture and position as an american general demand, he will never be called mr. sherman, but his title will invariably precede his name. there are persons who fancy that the omission of the title is annoying to the party who possesses it, but this is not the ground taken why the title should be given, but because it reveals either ignorance or ill-breeding on the part of those omitting it. christian names. there is a class of persons, who from ignorance of the customs of good society, or from carelessness, speak of persons by their christian names, who are neither relations nor intimate friends. this is a familiarity which, outside of the family circle, and beyond friends of the closest intimacy, is never indulged in by the well-bred. interruption. interruption of the speech of others is a great sin against good-breeding. it has been aptly said that if you interrupt a speaker in the middle of a sentence, you act almost as rudely as if, when walking with a companion, you were to thrust yourself before him and stop his progress. adaptability in conversation. the great secret of talking well is to adapt your conversation, as skillfully as may be, to your company. some men make a point of talking commonplace to all ladies alike, as if a woman could only be a trifler. others, on the contrary, seem to forget in what respects the education of a lady differs from that of a gentleman, and commit the opposite error of conversing on topics with which ladies are seldom acquainted, and in which few, if any, are ever interested. a woman of sense has as much right to be annoyed by the one, as a woman of ordinary education by the other. if you really wish to be thought agreeable, sensible, amiable, unselfish and even well-informed, you should lead the way, in _tete-a-tete_ conversations, for sportsmen to talk of their shooting, a mother to talk of her children, a traveler of his journeys and the countries he has visited, a young lady of her last ball and the prospective ones, an artist of his picture and an author of his book. to show any interest in the immediate concerns of people is very complimentary, and when not in general society one is privileged to do this. people take more interest in their own affairs than in anything else you can name, and if you manifest an interest to hear, there are but few who will not sustain conversation by a narration of their affairs in some form or another. thackeray says: "be interested by other people and by their affairs. it is because you yourself are selfish that that other person's self does not interest you." correct use of words. the correct use of words is indispensable to a good talker who would escape the unfavorable criticism of an educated listener. there are many words and phrases, used in some cases by persons who have known better, but who have become careless from association with others who make constant use of them. "because that" and "but that" should never be used in connection, the word "that" being entirely superfluous. the word "vocation" is often used for "avocation." "unhealthy" food is spoken of when it should be "unwholesome." "had not ought to" is sometimes heard for "ought not to;" "banister" for "baluster;" "handsful" and "spoonsful" for "handfuls" and "spoonfuls;" "it was him" for "it was he;" "it was me" for "it was i;" "whom do you think was there?" for "who do you think was there?"; "a mutual friend" for "a common friend;" "like i did" instead of "as i did;" "those sort of things" instead of "this sort of things;" "laying down" for "lying down;" "setting on a chair" for "sitting on a chair;" "try and make him" instead of "try to make him;" "she looked charmingly" for "she looked charming;" "loan" for "lend;" "to get along" instead of "to get on;" "cupalo" instead of "cupola;" "who" for "whom"--as, "who did you see" for "whom did you see;" double negatives, as, "he did not do neither of those things;" "lesser" for "least;" "move" instead of "remove;" "off-set" instead of "set-off," and many other words which are often carelessly used by those who have been better taught, as well as by those who are ignorant of their proper use. speaking one's mind. certain honest but unthinking people often commit the grievous mistake of "speaking their mind" on all occasions and under all circumstances, and oftentimes to the great mortification of their hearers. and especially do they take credit to themselves for their courage, if their freedom of speech happens to give offense to any of them. a little reflection ought to show how cruel and unjust this is. the law restrains us from inflicting bodily injury upon those with whom we disagree, yet there is no legal preventive against this wounding of the feeling of others. unwise expression of opinion. another class of people, actuated by the best of intentions, seem to consider it a duty to parade their opinions upon all occasions, and in all places without reflecting that the highest truth will suffer from an unwise and over-zealous advocacy. civility requires that we give to the opinions of others the same toleration that we exact for our own, and good sense should cause us to remember that we are never likely to convert a person to our views when we begin by violating his notions of propriety and exciting his prejudices. a silent advocate of a cause is always better than an indiscreet one. profanity. no gentleman uses profane language. it is unnecessary to add that no gentleman will use profane language in the presence of a lady. for profanity there is no excuse. it is a low and paltry habit, acquired from association with low and paltry spirits, who possess no sense of honor, no regard for decency and no reverence or respect for beings of a higher moral or religious nature than themselves. the man who habitually uses profane language, lowers his moral tone with every oath he utters. moreover, the silliness of the practice, if no other reason, should prevent its use by every man of good sense. public mention of private matters. do not parade merely private matters before a public or mixed assembly or to acquaintances. if strangers really wish to become informed about you or your affairs, they will find the means to gratify their curiosity without your advising them gratuitously. besides, personal and family affairs, no matter how interesting they may be to the parties immediately concerned, are generally of little moment to outsiders. still less will the well-bred person inquire into or narrate the private affairs of any other family or individual. ostentatious display of knowledge. in refined and intelligent society one should always display himself at his best, and make a proper and legitimate use of all such acquirements as he may happen to have. but there should be no ostentatious or pedantic show of erudition. besides being vulgar, such a show subjects the person to ridicule. prudery. avoid an affectation of excessive modesty. do not use the word "limb" for "leg." if legs are really improper, then let us, on no account, mention them. but having found it necessary to mention them, let us by all means give them their appropriate name. double entendres. no person of decency, still less of delicacy, will be guilty of _double entendre_. a well-bred person always refuses to understand a phrase of doubtful meaning. if the phrase may be interpreted decently, and with such interpretation would provoke a smile, then smile to just the degree called for by such interpretation, and no more. the prudery which sits in solemn and severe rebuke at a _double entendre_ is only second in indelicacy to the indecency which grows hilarious over it, since both must recognize the evil intent. it is sufficient to let it pass unrecognized. indelicate words and expressions. not so when one hears an indelicate word or expression, which allows of no possible harmless interpretation. then not the shadow of a smile should flit across the lips. either complete silence should be preserved in return, or the words, "i do not understand you," be spoken. a lady will always fail to hear that which she should not hear, or, having unmistakably heard, she will not understand. vulgar exclamations. no lady should make use of any feminine substitute for profanity. the woman who exclaims "the dickens!" or "mercy!" or "goodness!" when she is annoyed or astonished, is as vulgar in spirit, though perhaps not quite so regarded by society, as though she had used expressions which it would require but little stretch of the imagination to be regarded as profane. wit. you may be witty and amusing if you like, or rather if you can; but never use your wit at the expense of others. "wit's an unruly engine, wildly striking sometimes a friend, sometimes the engineer; hast thou the knack? pamper it not with liking; but if thou want it, buy it not too dear. many affecting wit beyond their power have got to be a dear fool for an hour."--herbert. display of emotions. avoid all exhibitions of temper before others, if you find it impossible to suppress them entirely. all emotions, whether of grief or joy, should be subdued in public, and only allowed full play in the privacy of your own apartments. impertinent questions. never ask impertinent questions. some authorities in etiquette even go so far as to say that _all_ questions are strictly tabooed. thus, if you wished to inquire after the health of the brother of your friend, you would say, "i hope your brother is well," not, "how is your brother's health?" the confidence of others. never try to force yourself into the confidence of others; but if they give you their confidence of their own free will, let nothing whatever induce you to betray it. never seek to pry into a secret, and never divulge one. use of foreign language. do not form the habit of introducing words and phrases of french or other foreign languages into common conversation. this is only allowable in writing, and not then except when the foreign word or phrase expresses more clearly and directly than english can do the desired meaning. in familiar conversation this is an affectation, only pardonable when all persons present are particularly familiar with the language. pretenses. avoid all pretense at gentility. pass for what you are, and nothing more. if you are obliged to make any little economies, do not be ashamed to acknowledge them as economies, if it becomes necessary to speak of them at all. if you keep no carriage, do not be over-solicitous to impress upon your friends that the sole reason for this deficiency is because you prefer to walk. do not be ashamed of poverty; but, on the other hand, do not flaunt its rags unmercifully in the faces of others. it is better to say nothing about it, either in excuse or defense. dogmatic style of speaking. never speak dogmatically or with an assumption of knowledge or information beyond that of those with whom you are conversing. even if you are conscious of this superiority, a proper and becoming modesty will lead you to conceal it as far as possible, that you may not put to shame or humiliation those less fortunate than yourself. if they discover your superiority of their own accord, they will have much more admiration for you than though you forced the recognition upon them. if they do not discover it, you cannot force it upon their perceptions, and they will only hold you in contempt for trying to do so. besides, there is the possibility that you over-estimate yourself, and instead of being a wise man you are only a self-sufficient fool. fault-finding. do not be censorious or fault-finding. long and close friendship may sometimes excuse one friend in reproving or criticising another, but it must always be done in the kindest and gentlest manner, and in nine cases out of ten had best be left undone. when one is inclined to be censorious or critical, it is well to remember the scriptural injunction, "first cast the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to cast the mote out of thy brother's eye." conversing with ladies. a gentleman should never lower the intellectual standard of his conversation in addressing ladies. pay them the compliment of seeming to consider them capable of an equal understanding with gentlemen. you will, no doubt, be somewhat surprised to find in how many cases the supposition will be grounded on fact, and in the few instances where it is not, the ladies will be pleased rather than offended at the delicate compliment you pay them. when you "come down" to commonplace or small-talk with an intelligent lady, one of two things is the consequence; she either recognizes the condescension and despises you, or else she accepts it as the highest intellectual effort of which you are capable, and rates you accordingly. hobbies. people with hobbies are at once the easiest and most difficult persons with whom to engage in conversation. on general subjects they are idealess and voiceless beyond monosyllables. but introduce their special hobby, and if you choose you need only to listen. there is much profit to be derived from the conversation of these persons. they will give you a clearer idea of the aspects of any subject or theory which they may have taken to heart, than you could perhaps gain in any other way. the too constant riding of hobbies is not, however, to be specially recommended. an individual, though he may be pardoned in cultivating special tastes, should yet be possessed of sufficiently broad and general information to be able to converse intelligently on all subjects, and he should, as far as possible, reserve his hobby-riding for exhibition before those who ride hobbies similar to his own. things to be avoided. it must be remembered that a social gathering should never be made the arena of a dispute. consequently every subject liable to provoke a discussion should be avoided. even slight inaccuracy in a statement of facts or opinions should rarely be remarked on in conversation. do not permit yourself to lose your temper in society, nor show that you have taken offense at a supposed slight. if anyone should assume a disagreeable tone of voice or offensive manner toward you, never return it in company, and, above all, do not adopt the same style of conversation with him. appear not to notice it, and generally it will be discontinued, as it will be seen that it has failed in its object. avoid all coarseness and undue familiarity in addressing others. a person who makes himself offensively familiar will have few friends. never attack the character of others in their absence; and if you hear others attacked, say what you can consistently to defend them. if you are talking on religious subjects, avoid all cant. cant words and phrases may be used in good faith from the force of habit, but their use subjects the speaker to a suspicion of insincerity. do not ask the price of articles you observe, except from intimate friends, and then very quietly, and only for some good reason. do not appear to notice an error in language, either in pronunciation or grammar, made by the person with whom you are conversing, and do not repeat correctly the same word or phrase. this would be as ill-bred as to correct it when spoken. mimicry is ill-bred, and must be avoided. sneering at the private affairs of others has long ago been banished from the conversation of well-mannered people. never introduce unpleasant topics, nor describe revolting scenes in general company. never give officious advice. even when sought for, give advice sparingly. never, directly or indirectly, refer to the affairs of others, which it may give them pain in any degree to recall. never hold your companion in conversation by the button-hole. if you are obliged to detain him forcibly in order to say what you wish, you are pressing upon him what is disagreeable or unwelcome, and you commit a gross breach of etiquette in so doing. especially avoid contradictions, interruptions and monopolizing all conversation yourself. these faults are all intolerable and very offensive. to speak to one person in a company in ambiguous terms, understood by him alone, is as rude as if you had whispered in his ear. avoid stale and trite remarks on commonplace subjects; also all egotism and anecdotes of personal adventure and exploit, unless they should be called out by persons you are conversing with. to make a classical quotation in a mixed company is considered pedantic and out of place, as is also an ostentatious display of your learning. a gentleman should avoid talking about his business or profession, unless such matters are drawn from him by the person with whom he is conversing. it is in bad taste, particularly, to employ technical or professional terms in general conversation. long arguments or heated discussions are apt to be tiresome to others, and should be avoided. it is considered extremely ill-bred for two persons to whisper in society, or to converse in a language with which all persons are not familiar. avoid talking too much, and do not inflict upon your hearers interminably long stories, in which they can have but little interest. [illustration] chapter ix. dinner giving and dining out. dining should be ranked among the fine arts. a knowledge of dinner-table etiquette is all important in many respects; but chiefly in this: that it is regarded as one of the strong tests of good breeding. dinners are generally looked upon as entertainments for married people and the middle aged, but it is often desirable to have some young unmarried persons among the guests. whom to invite. those invited should be of the same standing in society. they need not necessarily be friends, nor even acquaintances, but, at dinner, as people come into closer contact than at a dance, or any other kind of a party, those only should be invited to meet one another who move in the same class of circles. care must, of course, be taken that those whom you think agreeable to each other are placed side by side around the festive board. good talkers are invaluable at a dinner party--people who have fresh ideas and plenty of warm words to clothe them in; but good listeners are equally invaluable. invitations. invitations to dinner parties are not usually sent by post, in cities, and are only answered by post where the distance is such as to make it inconvenient to send the note by hand. they are issued in the name of the gentleman and lady of the house, from two to ten days in advance. they should be answered as soon as received, without fail, as it is necessary that the host and hostess should know who are to be their guests. if the invitation is accepted, the engagement should, on no account, be lightly broken. this rule is a binding one, as the non-arrival of an expected guest produces disarrangement of plans. gentlemen cannot be invited without their wives, where other ladies than those of the family are present; nor ladies without their husbands, when other ladies are invited with their husbands. this rule has no exceptions. no more than three out of a family should be invited, unless the dinner party is a very large one. manner of writing invitations. the invitations should be written on small note paper, which may have the initial letter or monogram stamped upon it, but good taste forbids anything more. the envelope should match the sheet of paper. the invitation should be issued in the name of the host and hostess. the form of invitations should be as follows: [illustration: mr. and mrs. potter request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. barton's company at dinner on thursday, the th of october at o'clock.] an answer should be returned at once, so that if the invitation is declined the hostess may modify her arrangements accordingly. invitation accepted. an acceptance may be given in the following form, and may be sent either by post or messenger: [illustration: mr. and mrs. barton have much pleasure in accepting mr. and mrs. potter's invitation for october th.] invitation declined. the invitation is declined in the following manner: [illustration: mr. and mrs. barton regret that a previous engagement (_or whatever the cause may be_) prevents their having the pleasure of accepting mr. and mrs. potter's invitation at dinner for october th.] or, [illustration: mr. and mrs. barton regret exceedingly that owing to (_whatever the preventing cause may be_), they cannot have the pleasure of dining with mr. and mrs. potter on thursday, october th.] whatever the cause for declining may be, it should be stated briefly, yet plainly, that there may be no occasion for misunderstanding or hard feelings. invitation to tea-party. the invitation to a tea-party may be less formal. it may take the form of a friendly note, something in this manner: [illustration: dear miss summer: we have some friends coming to drink tea with us to-morrow: will you give us the pleasure of your company also? we hope you will not disappoint us.] failing to fill an engagement. when it becomes absolutely necessary to break an engagement once made for dinner or tea, a note must be sent at once to the hostess and host, with full explanation of the cause, so that your place may be supplied, if possible. punctuality. the hour generally selected in cities is after business hours, or from five to eight o'clock. in the country or villages it may be an hour or two earlier. to be punctual at the hour mentioned is obligatory. if you are too early you are in the way; if too late you annoy the hostess, cause impatience among the assembled guests, and perhaps spoil the dinner. fifteen minutes is the longest time required to wait for a tardy guest. the success of a dinner. a host and hostess generally judge of the success of a dinner by the manner in which conversation has been sustained. if it has flagged often, it is considered proof that the guests have not been congenial; but if a steady stream of talk has been kept up, it shows that they have smoothly amalgamated, as a whole. no one should monopolize conversation, unless he wishes to win for himself the appellation of a bore, and be avoided as such. the table appointments. a snow-white cloth of the finest damask, beautiful china, glistening or finely engraved glass, and polished plate are considered essential to a grand dinner. choice flowers, ferns and mosses tastefully arranged, add much to the beauty of the table. a salt-cellar should be within the reach of every guest. napkins should be folded square and placed with a roll of bread upon each plate. the dessert is placed on the table amidst the flowers. an _epergne_, or a low dish of flowers, graces the centre; stands of bon-bons and confectionery are ranged on both sides of the table, which complete the decorations of the table. the name of each guest, written upon a card and placed one on each plate, marks the seat assigned. assigning partners for dinner. the number at a dinner should not be less than six, nor more than twelve or fourteen. then the host will be able to designate to each gentleman the lady whom he is to conduct to the table; but when the number exceeds this limit it is a good plan to have the name of each couple written upon a card and enclosed in an addressed envelope, ready to be handed to the gentleman by the servant, before entering the drawing-room, or left on a tray for the guests to select those which bear their names. if a gentleman finds upon his card the name of a lady with whom he is unacquainted, he requests the host to present him immediately after he has spoken with the hostess, also to any members of the family with whom he is not acquainted. introductions. all the guests should secure introductions to the one for whom the dinner is given. if two persons, unknown to each other, find themselves placed side by side at a table, they may enter into conversation without an introduction. arrangements of guests at the table. when dinner is announced, the host offers his right arm to the lady he is to escort to the table. the others follow, arm in arm, the hostess being the last to leave the drawing-room. age should take the precedence in proceeding from the drawing-room to the dining-room, the younger falling back until the elder have advanced. the host escorts the eldest lady or the greatest stranger, or if there be a bride present, precedence is given to her, unless the dinner is given for another person, in which case he escorts the latter. the hostess is escorted either by the greatest stranger, or some gentleman whom she wishes to place in the seat of honor, which is at her right. the host places the lady whom he escorts at his right. the seats of the host and hostess may be in the middle and at opposite sides of the table, or at the opposite ends. husbands should not escort their wives, or brothers their sisters, as this partakes of the nature of a family gathering. dinner a la russe. the latest and most satisfactory plan for serving dinners is the dinner _a la russe_ (the russian style)--all the food being placed upon a side table, and servants do the carving and waiting. this style gives an opportunity for more profuse ornamentation of the table, which, as the meal progresses, does not become encumbered with partially empty dishes and platters. duties of servants. the servants commence, in passing the dishes, one upon the right of the host and one upon the right of the hostess. a master or mistress should never censure the servants at dinner, however things may go wrong. servants should wear thin-soled shoes that their steps may be noiseless, and if they should use napkins in serving (as is the english custom) instead of gloves, their hands and nails should be faultlessly clean. a good servant is never awkward. he avoids coughing, breathing hard or treading on a lady's dress; never lets any article drop, and deposits plates, glasses, knives, forks and spoons noiselessly. it is considered good form for a servant not to wear gloves in waiting at table, but to use a damask napkin, with one corner wrapped around the thumb, that he may not touch the plates and dishes with the naked hand. soup. soup is the first course. all should accept it even if they let it remain untouched, because it is better to make a pretense of eating until the next course is served, than to sit waiting, or compel the servants to serve one before the rest. soup should not be called for a second time. a soup-plate should never be tilted for the last spoonful. fish. fish follows soup and must be eaten with a fork, unless fish knives are provided. if fish knives are not provided, a piece of bread in the left hand answers the purpose as well, with the fork in the right hand. fish may be declined, but must not be called for a second time. the side dishes. after soup and fish come the side dishes, which must be eaten with the fork, though the knife is used in cutting meats and anything too hard for a fork. general rules regarding dinner. when the plate of each course is set before you, with the knife and fork upon it, remove the knife and fork at once. this matter should be carefully attended to, as the serving of an entire course is delayed by neglecting to remove them. greediness should not be indulged in. indecision must be avoided. do not take up one piece and lay it down in favor of another, or hesitate. never allow the servant, or the one who pours, to fill your glass with wine that you do not wish to drink. you can check him by touching the rim of your glass. cheese is eaten with a fork and not with a knife. if you have occasion to speak to a servant, wait until you can catch his eye, and then ask in a low tone for what you want. the mouth should always be kept closed in eating, and both eating and drinking should be noiseless. bread is broken at dinner. vegetables are eaten with a fork. asparagus can be taken up with the fingers, if preferred. olives and artichokes are always so eaten. fruit is eaten with silver knives and forks. you are at liberty to refuse a dish that you do not wish to eat. if any course is set down before you that you do not wish, do not touch it. never play with food, nor mince your bread, nor handle the glass and silver near you unnecessarily. never reprove a waiter for negligence or improper conduct; that is the business of the host. when a dish is offered you, accept or refuse at once, and allow the waiter to pass on. a gentleman will see that the lady whom he has escorted to the table is helped to all she wishes, but it is officiousness to offer to help other ladies who have escorts. if the guests pass the dishes to one another, instead of being helped by a servant, you should always help yourself from the dish, if you desire it at all, before passing it on to the next. a knife should never, on any account, be put into the mouth. many people, even well-bred in other respects, seem to regard this as an unnecessary regulation; but when we consider that it is a rule of etiquette, and that its violation causes surprise and disgust to many people, it is wisest to observe it. be careful to remove the bones from fish before eating. if a bone inadvertently should get into the mouth, the lips must be covered with the napkin in removing it. cherry stones and grape skins should be removed from the mouth as unobtrusively as possible, and deposited on the side of the plate. never use a napkin in place of a handkerchief for wiping the forehead, face or nose. pastry should be eaten with a fork. every thing that can be cut without a knife should be eaten with the fork alone. pudding may be eaten with a fork or spoon. never lay your hand, or play with your fingers, upon the table. do not toy with your knife, fork or spoon, make crumbs of your bread, or draw imaginary lines upon the table cloth. never bite fruit. an apple, peach or pear should be peeled with a knife, and all fruit should be broken or cut. waiting on others. if a gentleman is seated by the side of a lady or elderly person, politeness requires him to save them all trouble of procuring for themselves anything to eat or drink, and of obtaining whatever they are in want of at the table, and he should be eager to offer them what he thinks may be most to their taste. praising dishes. a hostess should not express pride regarding what is on her table, nor make apologies if everything she offers you is not to her satisfaction. it is much better that she should observe silence in this respect, and allow her guests to eulogize her dinner or not, as they deem proper. neither is it in good taste to urge guests to eat, nor to load their plates against their inclination. monopolizing conversation. for one or two persons to monopolize a conversation which ought to be general, is exceedingly rude. if the dinner party is a large one, you may converse with those near you, raising the voice only loud enough to be distinctly heard by the persons you are talking with. picking teeth at the table. it is a mark of rudeness to pick your teeth at the table, and it should always be avoided. to hold your hand or napkin over your mouth does not avoid the rudeness of the act, but if it becomes a matter of necessity to remove some obstacle from between the teeth, then your open mouth should be concealed by your hand or napkin. selecting a particular dish. never express a preference for any dish or any particular portion of a fowl or of meat, unless requested to do so, and then answer promptly, that no time may be wasted in serving you and others after you. duties of hostess and host. tact and self-possession are demanded of the hostess, in order that she may perform her duties agreeably, which are not onerous. she should instruct her servants not to remove her plate until her guests have finished. if she speaks of any omission by which her servants have inconvenienced her guests, she must do it with dignity, not betraying any undue annoyance. she must put all her guests at their ease, and pay every possible attention to the requirements of each and all around her. no accident must disturb her; no disappointment embarrass her. if her precious china and her rare glass are broken before her eyes, she must seem to take but little or no notice of it. the host must aid the hostess in her efforts. he should have ease and frankness of manner, a calmness of temper that nothing can ruffle, and a kindness of disposition that can never be exhausted. he must encourage the timid, draw out the silent and direct conversation rather than sustain it himself. no matter what may go wrong, a hostess should never seem to notice it to the annoyance of her guests. by passing it over herself, it will very frequently escape the attention of others. if her guests arrive late, she should welcome them as cordially as if they had come early, but she will commit a rudeness to those who have arrived punctually, if she awaits dinner for tardy guests for more than the fifteen minutes of grace prescribed by custom. retiring from the table. when the hostess sees that all have finished, she looks at the lady who is sitting at the right of the host, and the company rise, and withdraw in the order they are seated, without precedence. after retiring to the drawing-room, the guests should intermingle in a social manner. it is expected that the guests will remain from one to three hours after dinner. accepting hospitality a sign of good-will. as eating with another under his own roof is in all conditions of society regarded as a sign of good-will, those who partake of proffered hospitalities, only to gossip about and abuse their host and hostess, should remember, that in the opinion of all honorable persons, they injure themselves by so doing. calls after a dinner party. calls should be made shortly after a dinner party by all who have been invited, whether the invitation be accepted or not. returning hospitality. those who are in the habit of giving dinner parties should return the invitation before another is extended to them. society is very severe upon those who do not return debts of hospitality, if they have the means to do so. if they never entertain anyone because of limited means, or for other good reasons, it is so understood, and it is not expected that they should make exceptions; or if they are in the habit of giving other entertainments and not dinners, their debts of hospitality can be returned by invitations to whatever the entertainment might be. some are deterred from accepting invitations by the feeling that they cannot return the hospitality in so magnificent a form. it is not the costly preparations, nor the expensive repast offered which are the most agreeable features of any entertainment, but it is the kind and friendly feeling shown. those who are not deterred from accepting such invitations for this reason, and who enjoy the fruits of friendliness thus shown them, must possess narrow views of their duty, and very little self-respect, if, when an opportunity presents itself in any way to reciprocate the kind feeling manifested, they fail to avail themselves of it. true hospitality, however, neither expects nor desires any return. expensive dinners not the most enjoyable. it is a mistake to think that in giving a dinner, it is indispensable to have certain dishes and a variety of wines, because others serve them. those who entertain frequently often use their own discretion, and never feel obliged to do as others do, if they wish to do differently. some of the most enjoyable dinners given are those which are least expensive. it is this mistaken feeling that people cannot entertain without committing all sorts of extravagances, which causes many persons, in every way well qualified to do incalculable good socially, to exclude themselves from all general society. wines at dinners. the _menu_ of a dinner party is by some not regarded as complete, unless it includes one or more varieties of wine. when used it is first served after soup, but any guest may, with propriety, decline being served. this, however, must not be done ostentatiously. simply say to the waiter, or whoever pours it, "not any; thank you." wine, offered at a dinner party, should never be criticized, however poor it may be. a person who has partaken of wine, may also decline to have the glass filled again. if the guests should include one or more people of well-known temperance principles, in deference to the scruples of these guests, wines or liquors should not be brought to the table. people who entertain should also be cautious as to serving wines at all. it is impossible to tell what harm you may do to some of your highly esteemed guests. it may be that your palatable wines may create an appetite for the habitual use of wines or stronger alcoholic liquors; or you may renew a passion long controlled and entombed; or you may turn a wavering will from a seemingly steadfast resolution to forever abstain. this is an age of reforms, the temperance reform being by no means the least powerful of these, and no ladies or gentlemen will be censured or misunderstood if they neglect to supply their dinner table with any kind of intoxicating liquor. mrs. ex-president hayes banished wines and liquors from her table, and an example set by the "first lady of the land" can be safely followed in every american household, whatever may have been former prevailing customs. it is safe to say that no "mistress of the white house" will ever set aside the temperance principles established by mrs. hayes. [illustration] chapter x. table manners and etiquette. it is of the highest importance that all persons should conduct themselves with the strictest regard to good breeding, even in the privacy of their own homes, when at table, a neglect of such observances will render one stiff and awkward in society. there are so many little points to be observed, that unless a person is habitually accustomed to observe them, he unconsciously commits some error, or will appear awkward and constrained upon occasions when it is important to be fully at ease. to be thoroughly at ease at such times is only acquired by the habitual practice of good manners at the table, and is the result of proper home training. it is the duty of parents to accustom their children, by example as well as by precept, to be attentive and polite to each other at every meal, as well as to observe proper rules of etiquette, and if they do so, they need never fear that they will be rude or awkward when they go abroad. even when persons habitually eat alone, they should pay due regard to the rules of etiquette, for by so doing they form habits of ease and gracefulness which are requisite in refined circles; otherwise they speedily acquire rude and awkward habits which they cannot shake off without great difficulty, and which are at times embarrassing to themselves and their friends. in private families it should be observed as a rule to meet together at all meals of the day around one common table, where the same rules of etiquette should be rigidly enforced, as though each member of the family were sitting at a stranger's table. it is only by this constant practice of the rules of good behaviour at home, that good manners become easy when any of them go abroad. the breakfast. at the first meal of the day, even in the most orderly households, an amount of freedom is allowed, which would be unjustifiable at any other meal. the head of the house may look over his morning paper, and the various other members may glance over correspondence or such books or studies as they are interested in. each may rise and leave the table when business or pleasure dictates, without awaiting for the others or for a general signal. the breakfast table should be simply decorated, yet it may be made very attractive with its snowy cloth and napkins, its array of glass, and its ornamentation of fruits and flowers. bread should be placed upon the table, cut in slices. in eating, it must always be broken, never cut, and certainly not bitten. fruit should be served in abundance at breakfast whenever practicable. there is an old adage which declares that "fruit is gold in the morning, silver at noon, and lead at night." luncheon. in many of our large cities, where business prevents the head of the family from returning to dinner until a late hour, luncheon is served about midday and serves as an early dinner for children and servants. there is much less formality in the serving of lunch than of dinner. it is all placed upon the table at once, whether it consists of one or more courses. where only one or two are at luncheon, the repast is ordinarily served on a tray. dinner. the private family dinner should be the social hour of the day. then parents and children should meet together, and the meal should be of such length as to admit of the greatest sociality. it is an old saying that chatted food is half digested. the utmost good feeling should prevail among all. business and domestic cares and troubles should be, for the time, forgotten, and the pleasures of home most heartily enjoyed. in another chapter we have spoken at length upon fashionable dinner parties. the knife and fork. the knife and fork were not made for playthings, and should not be used as such when people are waiting at the table for the food to be served. do not hold them erect in your hands at each side of your plate, nor cross them on your plate when you have finished, nor make a noise with them. the knife should only be used for cutting meats and hard substances, while the fork, held in the left hand, is used in carrying food into the mouth. a knife must never, on any account, be put into the mouth. when you send your plate to be refilled, do not send your knife and fork, but put them upon a piece of bread, or hold them in your hand. greediness. to put large pieces of food into your mouth appears greedy, and if you are addressed when your mouth is so filled, you are obliged to pause, before answering, until the vast mouthful is masticated, or run the risk of choking, by swallowing it too hastily. to eat very fast is also a mark of greediness, and should be avoided. the same may be said of soaking up gravy with bread, scraping up sauce with a spoon, scraping your plate and gormandizing upon one or two articles of food only. general rules on table etiquette. refrain from making a noise when eating, or supping from a spoon, and from smacking the lips or breathing heavily while masticating food, as they are marks of ill-breeding. the lips should be kept closed in eating as much as possible. it is rude and awkward to elevate your elbows and move your arms at the table, so as to incommode those on either side of you. whenever one or both hands are unoccupied, they should be kept below the table, and not pushed upon the table and into prominence. do not leave the table before the rest of the family or guests, without asking the head, or host, to excuse you, except at a hotel or boarding house. tea or coffee should never be poured into a saucer to cool, but sipped from the cup. if a person wishes to be served with more tea or coffee, he should place his spoon in his saucer. if he has had sufficient, let it remain in the cup. if by chance anything unpleasant is found in the food, such as a hair in the bread or a fly in the coffee, remove it without remark. even though your own appetite be spoiled, it is well not to prejudice others. always make use of the butter-knife, sugar-spoon and salt-spoon, instead of using your knife, spoon or fingers. never, if possible, cough or sneeze at the table. at home fold your napkin when you are done with it and place it in your ring. if you are visiting, leave your napkin unfolded beside your plate. eat neither too fast nor too slow. never lean back in your chair, nor sit too near or too far from the table. keep your elbows at your side, so that you may not inconvenience your neighbors. do not find fault with the food. the old-fashioned habit of abstaining from taking the last piece upon the plate is no longer observed. it is to be supposed that the vacancy can be supplied, if necessary. if a plate is handed you at the table, keep it yourself instead of passing it to a neighbor. if a dish is passed to you, serve yourself first, and then pass it on. the host or hostess should not insist upon guests partaking of particular dishes; nor ask persons more than once, nor put anything on their plates which they have declined. it is ill-bred to urge a person to eat of anything after he has declined. when sweet corn is served on the ear, the grain should be pared from it upon the plate, instead of being eaten from the cob. strive to keep the cloth as clean as possible, and use the edge of the plate or a side dish for potato skins and other refuse. [illustration] chapter xi. receptions, parties and balls. morning receptions, as they are called, but more correctly speaking, afternoon parties, are generally held from four to seven o'clock in the afternoon. sometimes a sufficient number for a quadrille arrange to remain after the assemblage has for the most part dispersed. the dress. the dress for receptions is, for men, morning dress; for ladies, demi-toilet, with or without bonnet. no low-necked dress nor short sleeves should be seen at day receptions, nor white neck-ties and dress coats. the material of a lady's costume may be of velvet, silk, muslin, gauze or grenadine, according to the season of the year, and taste of the wearer, but her more elegant jewelry and laces should be reserved for evening parties. the refreshments. the refreshments for "morning receptions" are generally light, consisting of tea, coffee, frozen punch, claret punch, ices, fruit and cakes. often a cold collation is spread after the lighter refreshments have been served, and sometimes the table is set with all the varieties, and renewed from time to time. invitations. invitations to a reception are simple, and are usually very informal. frequently the lady's card is sent with the simple inscription, "at home thursday, from four to seven." no answers are expected to these invitations, unless "r.s.v.p." is on one corner. one visiting card is left by each person who is present, to serve for the after call. no calls are expected from those who attend. those who are not able to be present, call soon after. musical matinees. a _matinee musicale_ partakes of the nature of a reception, and is one of the most difficult entertainments attempted. for this it is necessary to secure those persons possessing sufficient vocal and instrumental talent to insure the success of the entertainment, and to arrange with them a programme, assigning to each, in order, his or her part. it is customary to commence with a piece of instrumental music, followed by solos, duets, quartettes, etc., with instrumental music interspersed, in not too great proportions. some competent person is needed as accompanist. it is the duty of the hostess to maintain silence among her guests during the performance of instrumental as well as vocal music. if any are unaware of the breach of good manners they commit in talking or whispering at such times, she should by a gesture endeavor to acquaint them of the fact. it is the duty of the hostess to see that the ladies are accompanied to the piano; that the leaves of the music are turned for them, and that they are conducted to their seats again. when not intimately acquainted with them, the hostess should join in expressing gratification. the dress at a musical matinee is the same as at a reception, only bonnets are more generally dispensed with. those who have taken part, often remain for a hot supper. parties in the country. morning and afternoon parties in the country, or at watering places, are of a less formal character than in cities. the hostess introduces such of her guests as she thinks most likely to be mutually agreeable. music or some amusement is essential to the success of such parties. sunday hospitalities. in this country it is not expected that persons will call after informal hospitalities extended on sunday. all gatherings on that day ought to be informal. no dinner parties are given on sunday, or, at least, they are not considered as good form in good society. five o'clock tea, coffee and kettle-drums. five o'clock tea, coffee and kettle-drums have recently been introduced into this country from england. for these invitations are usually issued on the lady's visiting card, with the words written in the left hand corner. [illustration: _five o'clock tea, wednesday, october ._] or, if for a kettle-drum: [illustration: _kettle-drum, wednesday, october ._] no answers are expected to these invitations, unless there is an r.s.v.p. on the card. it is optional with those who attend, to leave cards. those who do not attend, call afterwards. the hostess receives her guests standing, aided by other members of the family or intimate friends. for a kettle-drum there is usually a crowd, and yet but few remain over half an hour--the conventional time allotted--unless they are detained by music or some entertaining conversation. a table set in the dining-room is supplied with tea, coffee, chocolate, sandwiches, buns and cakes, which constitute all that is offered to the guests. there is less formality at a kettle-drum than at a larger day reception. the time is spent in desultory conversation with friends, in listening to music, or such entertainment as has been provided. gentlemen wear the usual morning dress. ladies wear the _demi-toilet_, with or without bonnets. at five o'clock tea (or coffee), the equipage is on a side table, together with plates of thin sandwiches, and of cake. the pouring of the tea and passing of refreshments are usually done by some members of the family or friends, without the assistance of servants, where the number assembled is small; for, as a rule, the people who frequent these social gatherings, care more for social intercourse than for eating and drinking. more formal entertainments. evening parties and balls are of a much more formal character than the entertainments that have been mentioned. they require evening dress. of late years, however, evening dress is almost as much worn at grand dinners as at balls and evening parties, only the material is not of so diaphanous a character. lace and muslin are out of place. invitations to evening parties should be sent from a week to two weeks in advance, and in all cases they should be answered immediately. balls. the requisites for a successful ball are good music and plenty of people to dance. an english writer says, "the advantage of the ball is, that it brings young people together for a sensible and innocent recreation, and takes them away from silly, if not from bad ones; that it gives them exercise, and that the general effect of the beauty, elegance and brilliancy of a ball is to elevate rather than to deprave the mind." it may be that the round dance is monopolizing the ball room to a too great extent, and it is possible that these may be so frequent as to mar the pleasure of some persons who do not care to participate in them, to the exclusion of "square" and other dances. america should not be the only nation that confines ball room dancing to waltzes, as is done in some of our cities. there should be an equal number of waltzes and quadrilles, with one or two contra dances, which would give an opportunity to those who object (or whose parents object) to round dances to appear on the floor. preparations for a ball. there should be dressing-rooms for ladies and gentlemen, with a servant or servants to each. there should be cards with the names of the invited guests upon them, or checks with duplicates to be given to the guests ready to pin upon the wraps of each one. each dressing-room should be supplied with a complete set of toilet articles. it is customary to decorate the house elaborately with flowers. although this is an expensive luxury, it adds much to beautifying the rooms. the music. four musicians are enough for a "dance." when the dancing room is small, the flageolet is preferable to the horn, as it is less noisy and marks the time as well. the piano and violin form the mainstay of the band; but when the rooms are large enough, a larger band may be employed. the dances. the dances should be arranged beforehand, and for large balls programmes are printed with a list of the dances. usually a ball opens with a waltz, followed by a quadrille, and these are succeeded by galops, lancers, polkas, quadrilles and waltzes in turn. introductions at a ball. gentlemen who are introduced to ladies at a ball, solely for the purpose of dancing, wait to be recognized before speaking with ladies upon meeting afterwards, but they are at liberty to recall themselves by lifting their hats in passing. in england a ball-room acquaintance rarely goes any farther, until they have met at more balls than one; so, also, a gentleman cannot, after being introduced to a young lady, ask her for more than two dances during the same evening. in england an introduction given for dancing purposes does not constitute acquaintanceship. with us, as in continental europe, it does. it is for this reason that, in england, ladies are expected to bow first, while on the continent it is the gentlemen who give the first marks of recognition, as it should be here, or better still, simultaneously, when the recognition is simultaneous. it is as much the gentleman's place to bow (with our mode of life) as it is the lady's. the one who recognizes first should be the first to show that recognition. introductions take place in a ball room in order to provide ladies with partners, or between persons residing in different cities. in all other cases permission is asked before giving introductions. but where a hostess is sufficiently discriminating in the selection of her guests, those assembled under her roof should remember that they are, in a certain sense, made known to one another, and ought, therefore, to be able to converse freely without introductions. receiving guests. the custom of the host and hostess receiving together, is not now prevalent. the receiving devolves upon the hostess, but it is the duty of the host to remain within sight until after the arrivals are principally over, that he may be easily found by any one seeking him. the same duty devolves upon the sons, who, that evening, must share their attentions with all. the daughters, as well as the sons, will look after partners for the young ladies who desire to dance, and they will try to see that no one is neglected before they join the dancers themselves. an after-call. after a ball, an after-call is due the lady of the house at which you were entertained, and should be made as soon as convenient--within two weeks at the farthest. the call loses its significance entirely, and passes into remissness, when a longer time is permitted to elapse. if it is not possible to make a call, send your card or leave it at the door. it has become customary of late for a lady who has no weekly reception day, in sending invitations to a ball, to inclose her card in each invitation for one or more receptions, in order that the after-calls due her may be made on that day. supper. the supper-room at a ball is thrown open generally at twelve o'clock. the table is made as elegant as beautiful china, cut-glass and an abundance of flowers can make it. the hot dishes are oysters, stewed, fried, broiled and scalloped, chicken, game, etc., and the cold dishes are such as boned turkey, _boeuf á la mode_, chicken salad, lobster salad and raw oysters. when supper is announced, the host leads the way with the lady to whom he wishes to show especial attention, who may be an elderly lady, or a stranger or a bride. the hostess remains until the last, with the gentleman who takes her to supper, unless some distinguished guest is present, with whom she leads the way. no gentleman should ever go into the supper-room alone, unless he has seen every lady enter before him. when ladies are left unattended, gentlemen, although strangers, are at liberty to offer their services in waiting upon them, for the host and hostess are sufficient guarantees for the respectability of their guests. the number to invite. persons giving balls or dancing parties should be careful not to invite more than their rooms will accommodate, so as to avoid a crush. invitations to crowded balls are not hospitalities, but inflictions. a hostess is usually safe, however, in inviting one-fourth more than her rooms will hold, as that proportion of regrets are apt to be received. people who do not dance will not, as a rule, expect to be invited to a ball or dancing party. duties of guests. some persons may be astonished to learn that any duties devolve upon the guests. in fact there are circles where all such duties are ignored. it is the duty of every person who has at first accepted the invitation, and subsequently finds that it will be impossible to attend, to send a regret, even at the last moment, and as it is rude to send an acceptance with no intention of going, those who so accept will do well to remember this duty. it is the duty of every lady who attends a ball, to make her toilet as fresh as possible. it need not be expensive, but it should at least be clean; it may be simple, but it should be neither soiled nor tumbled. the gentlemen should wear evening dress. it is the duty of every person to arrive as early as possible after the hour named, when it is mentioned in the invitation. another duty of guests is that each one should do all in his or her power to contribute to the enjoyment of the evening, and neither hesitate nor decline to be introduced to such guests as the hostess requests. it is not binding upon any gentleman to remain one moment longer than he desires with any lady. by constantly moving from one to another, when he feels so inclined, he gives an opportunity to others to circulate as freely; and this custom, generally introduced in our society, would go a long way toward contributing to the enjoyment of all. the false notion generally entertained that a gentleman is expected to remain standing by the side of a lady, like a sentinel on duty, until relieved by some other person, is absurd, and deters many who would gladly give a few passing moments to lady acquaintances, could they but know that they would be free to leave at any instant that conversation flagged, or that they desired to join another. in a society where it is not considered a rudeness to leave after a few sentences with one, to exchange some words with another, there is a constant interchange of civilities, and the men circulate through the room with that charming freedom which insures the enjoyment of all. while the hostess is receiving, no person should remain beside her except members of her family who receive with her, or such friends as she has designated to assist her. all persons entering should pass on to make room for others. some suggestions for gentlemen. a gentleman should never attempt to step across a lady's train. he should walk around it. if by any accident he should tread upon any portion of her dress, he must instantly beg her pardon, and if by greater carelessness he should tear it, he must pause in his course and offer to escort her to the dressing-room so that she may have it repaired. if a lady asks any favor of a gentleman, such as to send a servant to her with a glass of water, to take her into the ball-room when she is without an escort, to inquire whether her carriage is in waiting, or any of the numerous services which ladies often require, no gentleman will, under any circumstances, refuse her request. a really well-bred man will remember to ask the daughters of a house to dance, as it is his imperative duty to do so; and if the ball has been given for a lady who dances, he should include her in his attentions. if he wishes to be considered a thorough-bred gentleman, he will sacrifice himself occasionally to those who are unsought and neglected in the dance. the consciousness of having performed a kind and courteous action will be his reward. when gentlemen, invited to a house on the occasion of an entertainment, are not acquainted with all the members of the family, their first duty, after speaking to their host and hostess, is to ask some common friend to introduce them to those members whom they do not know. the host and hostess are often too much occupied in receiving to be able to do this. duties of an escort. a lady's escort should call for her and accompany her to the place of entertainment; go with her as far as the dressing-room, return to meet her there when she is prepared to go to the ball-room; enter the latter room with her and lead her to the hostess; dance the first dance with her; conduct her to the supper-room, and be ready to accompany her home whenever she wishes to go. he should watch during the evening to see that she is supplied with dancing partners. when he escorts her home she should not invite him to enter the house, and even if she does so, he should by all means decline the invitation. he should call upon her within the next two days. general rules for balls. a young man who can dance, and will not dance, should stay away from a ball. the lady with whom a gentleman dances last is the one he takes to supper. therefore he can make no engagement to take out any other, unless his partner is already engaged. public balls are most enjoyable when you have your own party. the great charm of a ball is its perfect accord and harmony. all altercations, loud talking and noisy laughter are doubly ill-mannered in a ball-room. very little suffices to disturb the whole party. in leaving a ball, it is not deemed necessary to wish the lady of the house a good night. in leaving a small dance or party, it is civil to do so. the difference between a ball and an evening party is, that at a ball there must be dancing, and at an evening party there may or may not be. a london authority defines a ball to be "an assemblage for dancing, of not less than seventy-five persons." common civility requires that those who have not been present, but who were among the guests invited, should, when meeting the hostess the first time after an entertainment, make it a point to express some acknowledgment of their appreciation of the invitation, by regretting their inability to be present. when dancing a round dance, a gentleman should never hold a lady's hand behind him, or on his hip, or high in the air, moving her arm as though it were a pump handle, as seen in some of our western cities, but should hold it gracefully by his side. never forget ball-room engagements, nor confuse them, nor promise two dances to one person. if a lady has forgotten an engagement, the gentleman she has thus slighted must pleasantly accept her apology. good-breeding and the appearance of good temper are inseparable. it is not necessary for a gentleman to bow to his partner after a quadrille; it is enough that he offers his arm and walks at least half way round the room with her. he is not obliged to remain beside her unless he wishes to do so, but may leave her with any lady whom she knows. never be seen without gloves in a ball-room, or with those of any other color than white, unless they are of the most delicate hue. though not customary for a married couple to dance together in society, those men who wish to show their wives the compliment of such unusual attention, if they possess any independence, will not be deterred from doing so by their fear of any comments from mrs. grundy. the sooner that we recover from the effects of the puritanical idea that clergymen should never be seen at balls, the better for all who attend them. where it is wrong for a clergyman to go, it is wrong for any member of his church to be seen. in leaving a ball room before the music has ceased, if no members of the family are in sight, it is not necessary to find them before taking your departure. if, however, the invitation is a first one, endeavor not to make your exit until you have thanked your hostess for the entertainment. you can speak of the pleasure it has afforded you, but it is not necessary that you should say "it has been a grand success." young ladies must be careful how they refuse to dance, for unless a good reason is given, a gentleman is apt to take it as evidence of personal dislike. after a lady refuses, the gentleman should not urge her to dance, nor should the lady accept another invitation for the same dance. the members of the household should see that those guests who wish to dance are provided with partners. ladies leaving a ball or party should not allow gentlemen to see them to their carriages, unless overcoats and hats are on for departure. when balls are given, if the weather is bad, an awning should be provided for the protection of those passing from their carriages to the house. in all cases, a broad piece of carpet should be spread from the door to the carriage steps. gentlemen should engage their partners for the approaching dance, before the music strikes up. in a private dance, a lady cannot well refuse to dance with any gentleman who invites her, unless she has a previous engagement. if she declines from weariness, the gentleman will show her a compliment by abstaining from dancing himself, and remaining with her while the dance progresses. [illustration] chapter xii. etiquette of the street. the manners of a person are clearly shown by his treatment of the people he meets in the public streets of a city or village, in public conveyances and in traveling generally. the true gentleman, at all times, in all places, and under all circumstances, is kind and courteous to all he meets, regards not only the rights, but the wishes and feelings of others, is deferential to women and to elderly men, and is ever ready to extend his aid to those who need it. the street manners of a lady. the true lady walks the street, wrapped in a mantle of proper reserve, so impenetrable that insult and coarse familiarity shrink from her, while she, at the same time, carries with her a congenial atmosphere which attracts all, and puts all at their ease. a lady walks quietly through the streets, seeing and hearing nothing that she ought not to see and hear, recognizing acquaintances with a courteous bow, and friends with words of greeting. she is always unobtrusive, never talks loudly, or laughs boisterously, or does anything to attract the attention of the passers-by. she walks along in her own quiet, lady-like way, and by her pre-occupation is secure from any annoyance to which a person of less perfect breeding might be subjected. a lady never demands attention and favors from a gentleman, but, when voluntarily offered, accepts them gratefully, graciously, and with an expression of hearty thanks. forming street acquaintances. a lady never forms an acquaintance upon the street, or seeks to attract the attention or admiration of persons of the other sex. to do so would render false her claims to ladyhood, if it did not make her liable to far graver charges. recognizing friends in the street. no one, while walking the streets, should fail, through pre-occupation, or absent-mindedness, to recognize friends or acquaintances, either by a bow or some form of salutation. if two gentlemen stop to talk, they should retire to one side of the walk. if a stranger should be in company with one of the gentlemen, an introduction is not necessary. if a gentleman meets another gentleman in company with a lady whom he does not know, he lifts his hat to salute them both. if he knows the lady, he should salute her first. the gentleman who accompanies a lady, always returns a salutation made to her. a crowded street. when a gentleman and lady are walking in the street, if at any place, by reason of the crowd, or from other cause, they are compelled to proceed singly, the gentleman should always precede his companion. intrusive inquiries. if you meet or join or are visited by a person who has any article whatever, under his arm or in his hand, and he does not offer to show it to you, you should not, even if it be your most intimate friend, take it from him and look at it. that intrusive curiosity is very inconsistent with the delicacy of a well-bred man, and always offends in some degree. the first to bow. in england strict etiquette requires that a lady, meeting upon the street a gentleman with whom she has acquaintance, shall give the first bow of recognition. in this country, however, good sense does not insist upon an imperative following of this rule. a well-bred man bows and raises his hat to every lady of his acquaintance whom he meets, without waiting for her to take the initiative. if she is well-bred, she will certainly respond to his salutation. as politeness requires that each salute the other, their salutations will thus be simultaneous. always recognize acquaintances. one should always recognize lady acquaintances in the street, either by bowing or words of greeting, a gentleman lifting his hat. if they stop to speak, it is not obligatory to shake hands. shaking hands is not forbidden, but in most cases it is to be avoided in public. [illustration: gentleman meeting a lady.] bowing to strangers with friends. if a gentleman meets a friend, and the latter has a stranger with him, all three should bow. if the gentleman stops his friend to speak to him, he should apologize to the stranger for detaining him. if the stranger is a lady, the same deference should be shown as if she were an acquaintance. do not lack politeness. never hesitate in acts of politeness for fear they will not be recognized or returned. one cannot be too polite so long as he conforms to rules, while it is easy to lack politeness by neglect of them. besides, if courtesy is met by neglect or rebuff, it is not for the courteous person to feel mortification, but the boorish one; and so all lookers-on will regard the matter. talking with a lady in the street. in meeting a lady it is optional with her whether she shall pause to speak. if the gentleman has anything to say to her, he should not stop her, but turn around and walk in her company until he has said what he has to say, when he may leave her with a bow and a lift of the hat. lady and gentleman walking together. a gentleman walking with a lady should treat her with the most scrupulous politeness, and may take either side of the walk. it is customary for the gentleman to have the lady on his right hand side, and he offers her his right arm, when walking arm in arm. if, however, the street is crowded, the gentleman must keep the lady on that side of him where she will be the least exposed to crowding. offering the arm to a lady. a gentleman should, in the evening, or whenever her safety, comfort or convenience seems to require it, offer a lady companion his arm. at other times it is not customary to do so unless the parties be husband and wife or engaged. in the latter case, it is not always advisable to do so, as they may be made the subject of unjust remarks. keeping step. in walking together, especially when arm in arm, it is desirable that the two keep step. ladies should be particular to adapt their pace as far as practicable, to that of their escort. it is easily done. opening the door for a lady. a gentleman should always hold open the door for a lady to enter first. this is obligatory, not only in the case of the lady who accompanies him, but also in that of any strange lady who chances to be about to enter at the same time. answering questions. a gentleman will answer courteously any questions which a lady may address to him upon the street, at the same time lifting his hat, or at least touching it respectfully. smoking upon the streets. in england a well-bred man never smokes upon the streets. while this rule does not hold good in this country, yet no gentleman will ever insult a lady by smoking in the streets in her company, and in meeting and saluting a lady he will always remove his cigar from his mouth. offensive behavior. no gentleman is ever guilty of the offense of standing on street corners and the steps of hotels or other public places and boldly scrutinizing every lady who passes. carrying packages. a gentleman will never permit a lady with whom he is walking to carry a package of any kind, but will insist upon relieving her of it. he may even accost a lady when he sees her overburdened and offer his assistance, if their ways lie in the same direction. shouting. never speak to your acquaintances from one side of the street to the other. shouting is a certain sign of vulgarity. first approach, and then make your communication to your acquaintance or friend in a moderately loud tone of voice. two gentlemen walking with a lady. when two gentlemen are walking with a lady in the street they should not be both upon the same side of her, but one of them should walk upon the outside and the other upon the inside. crossing the street with a lady. if a gentleman is walking with a lady who has his arm, and they cross the street, it is better not to disengage the arm, and go round upon the outside. such effort evinces a palpable attention to form, and that is always to be avoided. fulfilling an engagement. when on your way to fill an engagement, if a friend stops you on the street you may, without committing a breach of etiquette, tell him of your appointment, and release yourself from any delay that may be occasioned by a long talk; but do so in a courteous manner, expressing regret for the necessity. walking with a lady acquaintance. a gentleman should not join a lady acquaintance on the street for the purpose of walking with her, unless he ascertains that his company would be perfectly agreeable to her. it might be otherwise, and she should frankly say so, if asked. passing before a lady. when a lady wishes to enter a store, house or room, if a gentleman accompanies her, he should hold the door open and allow her to enter first, if practicable; for a gentleman must never pass before a lady anywhere if he can avoid it, or without an apology. shopping etiquette. in inquiring for goods at a store or shop, do not say to the clerk or salesman, "i want" such an article, but, "please show me" such an article, or some other polite form of address. you should never take hold of a piece of goods or an article which another person is examining. wait until it is replaced upon the counter, when you are at liberty to examine it. it is rude to interrupt friends whom you meet in a store before they have finished making their purchases, or to ask their attention to your own purchases. it is rude to offer your opinion unasked, upon their judgment or taste, in the selection of goods. it is rude to sneer at and depreciate goods, and exceedingly discourteous to the salesman. use no deceit, but be honest with them, if you wish them to be honest with you. avoid "jewing down" the prices of articles in any way. if the price does not suit, you may say so quietly, and depart, but it is generally best to say nothing about it. it is an insult for the salesman to offensively suggest that you can do better elsewhere, which should be resented by instant departure. ladies should not monopolize the time and attention of salesmen in small talk, while other customers are in the store to be waited upon. whispering in a store is rude. loud and showy behaviour is exceedingly vulgar. etiquette for public conveyances. in street cars, omnibuses and other public street conveyances, it should be the endeavor of each passenger to make room for all persons entering, and no gentleman will retain his seat when there are ladies standing. when a lady accepts a seat from a gentleman, she expresses her thanks in a kind and pleasant manner. a lady may, with perfect propriety, accept the offer of services from a stranger in alighting from, or entering an omnibus or other public conveyance, and should always acknowledge the courtesy with a pleasant "thank you, sir," or a bow. never talk politics or religion in a public conveyance. gentlemen should not cross their legs, nor stretch their feet out into the passage-way of a public conveyance. avoid cutting. no gentleman will refuse to recognize a lady after she has recognized him, under any circumstances. a young lady should, under no provocation, "cut" a married lady. it is the privilege of age to first recognize those who are younger in years. no young man will fail to recognize an aged one after he has met with recognition. "cutting" is to be avoided if possible. there are other ways of convincing a man that you do not know him, yet, to young ladies, it is sometimes the only means available to rid them of troublesome acquaintances. "cutting" consists in returning a bow or recognition with a stare, and is publicly ignoring the acquaintance of the person so treated. it is sometimes done by words in saying, "really i have not the pleasure of your acquaintance." avoiding carriages. for a lady to run across the street to avoid an approaching carriage is inelegant and also dangerous. to attempt to cross the street between the carriages of a funeral procession, is rude and disrespectful. the foreign custom of removing the hat and standing in a respectful attitude until the melancholy train has passed, is a commendable one to be followed in this country. keep to the right. on meeting and passing people in the street, keep to your right hand, except when a gentleman is walking alone; then he must always turn aside to give the preferred side of the walk to a lady, to anyone carrying a heavy load, to a clergyman or to an old gentleman. some general suggestions. if a gentleman is walking with two ladies in a rain storm, and there is but one umbrella, he should give it to his companions and walk outside. nothing can be more absurd than to see a gentleman walking between two ladies holding an umbrella which perfectly protects himself, but half deluges his companions with its dripping streams. never turn a corner at full speed or you may find yourself knocked down, or may knock down another, by the violent contact. always look in the way you are going or you may chance to meet some awkward collision. a young lady should, if possible, avoid walking alone in the street after dark. if she passes the evening with a friend, provision should be made beforehand for an escort. if this is not practicable, the person at whose house she is visiting should send a servant with her, or some proper person--a gentleman acquaintance present, or her own husband--to perform the duty. a married lady may, however, disregard this rule, if circumstances prevent her being able to conveniently find an escort. a gentleman will always precede a lady up a flight of stairs, and allow her to precede him in going down. do not quarrel with a hack-driver about his fare, but pay him and dismiss him. if you have a complaint to make against him, take his name and make it to the proper authorities. it is rude to keep a lady waiting while you are disputing with a hack-man. [illustration] [illustration: summer afternoon, central park.] chapter xiii. etiquette of public places. all well-bred persons will conduct themselves at all times and in all places with perfect decorum. wherever they meet people they will be found polite, considerate of the comfort, convenience and wishes of others, and unobtrusive in their behavior. they seem to know, as if by instinct, how to conduct themselves, wherever they may go, or in whatever society they may be thrown. they consider at all times the fitness of things, and their actions and speech are governed by feelings of gentleness and kindness towards everybody with whom they come into social relations, having a due consideration for the opinions and prejudices of others, and doing nothing to wound their feelings. many people, however, either from ignorance, thoughtlessness or carelessness, are constantly violating some of the observances of etiquette pertaining to places of public assemblages. it is for this reason that rules are here given by which may be regulated the conduct of people in various public gatherings, where awkwardness and ostentatious display often call forth unfavorable criticism. conduct in church. a gentleman should remove his hat upon entering the auditorium. when visiting a strange church, you should wait in the vestibule until an usher appears to show you to a seat. a gentleman may walk up the aisle either a little ahead of, or by the side of a lady, allowing the lady to first enter the pew. there should be no haste in passing up the aisle. people should preserve the utmost silence and decorum in church, and avoid whispering, laughing, staring, or making a noise of any kind with the feet or hands. it is ill-mannered to be late at church. if one is unavoidably late, it is better to take a pew as near the door as possible. ladies always take the inside seats, and gentlemen the outside or head of the pew. when a gentleman accompanies a lady, however, it is customary for him to sit by her side during church services. a person should never leave church until the services are over, except in some case of emergency. do not turn around in your seat to gaze at anyone, to watch the choir, to look over the congregation or to see the cause of any disturbing noise. if books or fans are passed in church, let them be offered and accepted or refused with a silent gesture of the head. it is courteous to see that strangers are provided with books; and if the service is strange to them, the places for the day's reading should be indicated. it is perfectly proper to offer to share the prayer-book or hymn-book with a stranger if there is no separate book for his use. in visiting a church of a different belief from your own, pay the utmost respect to the services and conform in all things to the observances of the church--that is, kneel, sit and rise with the congregation. no matter how grotesquely some of the forms and observances may strike you, let no smile or contemptuous remark indicate the fact while in the church. when the services are concluded, there should be no haste in crowding up the aisle, but the departure should be conducted quietly and decorously. when the vestibule is reached, it is allowable to exchange greetings with friends, but here there should be no loud talking nor boisterous laughter. neither should gentlemen congregate in knots in the vestibule or upon the steps of the church and compel ladies to run the gauntlet of their eyes and tongues. if a protestant gentleman accompanies a lady who is a roman catholic to her own church, it is an act of courtesy to offer the holy water. this he must do with the ungloved right hand. in visiting a church for the mere purpose of seeing the edifice, one should always go at a time when there are no services being held. if people are even then found at their devotions, as is apt to be the case in roman catholic churches especially, the demeanor of the visitor should be respectful and subdued and his voice low, so that he may not disturb them. invitation to opera or concert. a gentleman upon inviting a lady to accompany him to opera, theatre, concert or other public place of amusement, must send his invitation the previous day. the lady must reply immediately, so that if she declines, there shall yet be time for the gentleman to secure another companion. it is the gentleman's duty to secure good seats for the entertainment, or else he or his companion may be obliged to take up with seats where they can neither see nor hear. conduct in opera, theater or public hall. on entering the hall, theater or opera house the gentleman should walk side by side with his companion unless the aisle is too narrow, in which case he should precede her. upon reaching the seats, he should allow her to take the inner one, assuming the outer one himself. a gentleman should, on no account, leave the lady's side from the beginning to the close of the performance. if it is a promenade concert or opera, the lady may be invited to promenade during the intermission. if she declines, the gentleman must retain his position by her side. there is no obligation whatever upon a gentleman to give up his seat to a lady. on the contrary, his duty is solely to the lady whom he accompanies. he must remain beside her during the evening to converse with her between the acts, and to render the entertainment as agreeable to her as possible. during the performance complete quiet should be preserved, that the audience may not be prevented from seeing or hearing. between the acts it is perfectly proper to converse, but it should be done in a low tone, so as not to attract attention. neither should one whisper. there should be no loud talking, boisterous laughter, violent gestures, lover-like demonstrations or anything in manners or speech to attract the attention of others. it is proper and desirable that the actors be applauded when they deserve it. it is their only means of knowing whether they are giving satisfaction. the gentleman should see that the lady is provided with a programme, and with libretto also if they are attending opera. in passing out at the close of the performance the gentleman should precede the lady, and there should be no crowding or pushing. if the means of the gentleman warrant him in so doing, he should call for his companion in a carriage. this is especially necessary if the evening is stormy. he should call sufficiently early to allow them to reach their destination before the performance commences. it is unjust to the whole audience to come in late and make a disturbance in obtaining seats. the gentleman should ask permission to call upon the lady the following day, which permission she should grant; and if she be a person of delicacy and tact, she will make him feel that he has conferred a real pleasure upon her by his invitation. even if she finds occasion for criticism in the performance, she should be lenient in this respect, and seek for points to praise instead, that he may not feel regret at taking her to an entertainment which has proved unworthy. remain until the performance closes. at a theatrical or operatic performance, you should remain seated until the performance is concluded and the curtain falls. it is exceedingly rude and ill-bred to rise and leave the hall while the play is drawing to a close, yet this severely exasperating practice has of late been followed by many well-meaning people, who, if they were aware of the extent to which they outraged the feelings of many of the audience, and unwittingly offered an insult to the actors on the stage, would shrink from repeating such flagrantly rude conduct. conduct in picture-galleries. in visiting picture-galleries one should always maintain the deportment of a gentleman or a lady. make no loud comments and do not seek to show superior knowledge in art matters by gratuitous criticism. if you have not an art education you will probably only be giving publicity to your own ignorance. do not stand in conversation before a picture, and thus obstruct the view of others who wish to see rather than talk. if you wish to converse with any anyone on general subjects, draw to one side, out of the way of those who want to look at the pictures. conduct at charity fairs. in visiting a fancy fair make no comments on either the article or their price, unless you can praise. if you want them, pay the price demanded, or let them alone. if you can conscientiously praise an article, by all means do so, as you may be giving pleasure to the maker if she chances to be within hearing. if you have a table at a fair, use no unladylike means to obtain buyers. not even the demands of charity can justify you in importuning others to purchase articles against their own judgment or beyond their means. never appear so beggarly as to retain the change, if a larger amount is presented than the price. offer the change promptly, when the gentleman will be at liberty to donate it if he thinks best, and you may accept it with thanks. he is, however, under no obligation whatever to make such donation. be guilty of no loud talking or laughing, and by all means avoid conspicuous flirting in so public a place. as a gentleman must always remove his hat in the presence of ladies, so he should remain with head uncovered, carrying his hat in his hand, in a public place of this character. conduct in an artist's studio. if you have occasion to visit an artist's studio, by no means meddle with anything in the room. reverse no picture which stands or hangs with face to the wall; open no portfolio without permission, and do not alter by a single touch any lay-figure or its drapery, piece of furniture or article of _vertu_ posed as a model. you do not know with what care the artist may have arranged these things, nor what trouble the disarrangement may cost him. use no strong expression either of delight or disapprobation at anything presented for your inspection. if a picture or a statue please you, show your approval and appreciation by close attention, and a few quiet, well chosen words, rather than by extravagant praise. do not ask the artist his prices unless you really intend to become a purchaser; and in this case it is best to attentively observe his works, make your choice, and trust the negotiation to a third person or to a written correspondence with the artist after the visit is concluded. you may express your desire for the work and obtain the refusal of it from the artist. if you desire to conclude the bargain at once you may ask his price, and if he names a higher one than you wish to give, you may say as much and mention the sum you are willing to pay, when it will be optional with the artist to maintain his first price or accept your offer. it is not proper to visit the studio of an artist except by special invitation or permission, and at an appointed time, for you cannot estimate how much you may disturb him at his work. the hours of daylight are all golden to him; and steadiness of hand in manipulating a pencil is sometimes only acquired each day after hours of practice, and may be instantly lost on the irruption and consequent interruption of visitors. never take a young child to a studio, for it may do much mischief in spite of the most careful watching. at any rate, the juvenile visitor will try the artist's temper and nerves by keeping him in a constant state of apprehension. if you have engaged to sit for your portrait never keep the artist waiting one moment beyond the appointed time. if you do so you should in justice pay for the time you make him lose. a visitor should never stand behind an artist and watch him at his work; for if he be a man of nervous temperament it will be likely to disturb him greatly. gentlemen passing before ladies. gentleman having occasion to pass before ladies who are already seated in lecture and concert rooms, theaters and other public places, should beg pardon for disturbing them; passing with their faces and never with their backs toward them. where gentlemen may keep their hats on. at garden parties and at all assemblies held in the open air, gentlemen keep their hats on their heads. if draughts of cold air, or other causes, make it necessary for them to retain their hats on their heads, when in the presence of ladies within doors, they explain the necessity and ask permission of the ladies whom they accompany. [illustration] chapter xiv. etiquette of travelling. there is nothing that tests the natural politeness of men and women so thoroughly as traveling. we all desire as much comfort as possible and as a rule are selfish. in these days of railroad travel, when every railway is equipped with elegant coaches for the comfort, convenience and sometimes luxury of its passengers, and provided with gentlemanly conductors and servants, the longest journeys by railroad can be made alone by self-possessed ladies with perfect safety and but little annoyance. then, too, a lady who deports herself as such may travel from the atlantic to the pacific, from maine to the gulf of mexico, and meet with no affront or insult, but on the contrary receive polite attentions at every point, from men who may chance to be her fellow-travelers. this may be accounted for from the fact that, as a rule in america, all men show a deferential regard for women, and are especially desirous of showing them such attentions as will render a long and lonesome journey as pleasant as possible. duties of an escort. however self-possessed and ladylike in all her deportment and general bearing a lady may be, and though capable of undertaking any journey, howsoever long it may be, an escort is at all times much more pleasant, and generally acceptable. when a gentleman undertakes the escort of a lady, he should proceed with her to the depot, or meet her there, a sufficient time before the departure of the train to attend to the checking of her baggage, procure her ticket, and obtain for her an eligible seat in the cars, allowing her to choose such seat as she desires. he will then dispose of her packages and hand-baggage in their proper receptacle, and make her seat and surroundings as agreeable for her as possible, taking a seat near her, or by the side of her if she requests it, and do all he can to make her journey a pleasant one. upon arriving at her destination, he should conduct her to the ladies' waiting-room or to a carriage, until he has attended to her baggage, which he arranges to have delivered where the lady requests it. he should then escort her to whatever part of the city she is going and deliver her into the hands of her friends before relaxing his care. on the following day he should call upon her to inquire after her health. it is optional with the lady whether the acquaintance shall be prolonged or not after this call. if the lady does not wish to prolong the acquaintance, she can have no right, nor can her friends, to request a similar favor of him at another time. the duty of a lady to her escort. the lady may supply her escort with a sum of money ample to pay all the expenses of the journey before purchasing her ticket, or furnish him the exact amount required, or, at the suggestion of her escort, she may allow him to defray the expenses from his own pocket, and settle with him at the end of the journey. the latter course, however, should only be pursued when the gentleman suggests it, and a strict account of the expenses incurred must be insisted on. a lady should give her attendant as little trouble and annoyance as possible, and she should make no unnecessary demands upon his good nature and gentlemanly services. her hand-baggage should be as small as circumstances will permit, and when once disposed of, it should remain undisturbed until she is about to leave the car, unless she should absolutely require it. as the the train nears the end of her journey, she will deliberately gather together her effects preparatory to departure, so that when the train stops she will be ready to leave the car at once and not wait to hurriedly grab her various parcels, or cause her escort unnecessary delay. a lady traveling alone. a lady, in traveling alone, may accept services from her fellow-travelers, which she should always acknowledge graciously. indeed, it is the business of a gentleman to see that the wants of an unescorted lady are attended to. he should offer to raise or lower her window if she seems to have any difficulty in doing it herself. he may offer his assistance in carrying her packages upon leaving the car, or in engaging a carriage or obtaining a trunk. still, women should learn to be as self-reliant as possible; and young women particularly should accept proffered assistance from strangers, in all but the slightest offices, very rarely. ladies may assist other ladies. it is not only the right, but the duty of ladies to render any assistance or be of any service to younger ladies, or those less experienced in traveling than themselves. they may show many little courtesies which will make the journey less tedious to the inexperienced traveler, and may give her important advice or assistance which may be of benefit to her. an acquaintance formed in traveling, need never be retained afterwards. it is optional whether it is or not. the comfort of others. in seeking his own comfort, no passenger has a right to overlook or disregard that of others. if for his own comfort, he wishes to raise or lower a window he should consult the wishes of passengers immediately around him before doing so. the discomforts of traveling should be borne cheerfully, for what may enhance your own comfort may endanger the health of some fellow-traveler. attending to the wants of others. see everywhere and at all times that ladies and elderly people have their wants supplied before you think of your own. nor is there need for unmanly haste or pushing in entering or leaving cars or boats. there is always time enough allowed for each passenger to enter in a gentlemanly manner and with a due regard to the rights of others. if, in riding in the street-cars or crossing a ferry, your friend insists on paying for you, permit him to do so without serious remonstrance. you can return the favor at some other time. reading when travelling. if a gentleman in traveling, either on cars or steamboat, has provided himself with newspapers or other reading, he should offer them to his companions first. if they are refused, he may with propriety read himself, leaving the others free to do the same if they wish. occupying too many seats. no lady will retain possession of more than her rightful seat in a crowded car. when others are looking for accommodations she should at once and with all cheerfulness so dispose of her baggage that the seat beside her may be occupied by anyone who desires it, no matter how agreeable it may be to retain possession of it. it shows a great lack of proper manners to see two ladies, or a lady and gentleman turn over the seat in front of them and fill it with their wraps and bundles, retaining it in spite of the entreating or remonstrating looks of fellow-passengers. in such a case any person who desires a seat is justified in reversing the back, removing the baggage and taking possession of the unused seat. retaining possession of a seat. a gentleman in traveling may take possession of a seat and then go to purchase tickets or look after baggage or procure a lunch, leaving the seat in charge of a companion, or depositing traveling-bag or overcoat upon it to show that it is engaged. when a seat is thus occupied, the right of possession must be respected, and no one should presume to take a seat thus previously engaged, even though it may be wanted for a lady. a gentleman cannot, however, in justice, vacate his seat to take another in the smoking-car, and at the same time reserve his rights to the first seat. he pays for but one seat, and by taking another he forfeits the first. it is not required of a gentleman in a railway car to relinquish his seat in favor of a lady, though a gentleman of genuine breeding will do so rather than allow the lady to stand or suffer inconvenience from poor accommodations. in the street cars the case is different. no woman should be allowed to stand while there is a seat occupied by a man. the inconvenience to the man will be temporary and trifling at the most, and he can well afford to suffer it rather than to do an uncourteous act. discretion in forming acquaintances. while an acquaintance formed in a railway car or on a steamboat, continues only during the trip, discretion should be used in making acquaintances. ladies may, as has been stated, accept small courtesies and favors from strangers, but must check at once any attempt at familiarity. on the other hand, no man who pretends to be a gentleman will attempt any familiarity. the practice of some young girls just entering into womanhood, of flirting with any young man they may chance to meet, either in a railway car or on a steamboat, indicates low-breeding in the extreme. if, however, the journey is long, and especially if it be on a steamboat, a certain sociability may be allowed, and a married lady or a lady of middle age may use her privileges to make the journey an enjoyable one, for fellow-passengers should always be sociable to one another. [illustration] chapter xv. riding and driving. one of the most exhilarating and enjoyable amusements that can be indulged in by either ladies or gentlemen is that of riding on horseback, and it is a matter of regret that it is not participated in to a greater extent than it is. the etiquette of riding, though meagre, is exact and important. learning to ride. the first thing to do is to learn to ride, and no one should attempt to appear in public until a few preliminary lessons in riding are taken. until a person has learned to appear at ease on horseback, he or she should not appear in public. the advice given in the old rhyme should be kept in mind, viz: keep up your head and your heart, your hands and your heels keep down; press your knees close to your horse's sides, and your elbows close to your own. the gentleman's duty as an escort. when a gentleman contemplates riding with a lady, his first duty is to see that her horse is a proper one for her use, and one that she can readily manage. he must see that her saddle and bridle are perfectly secure, and trust nothing of this kind to the stable men, without personal examination. he must be punctual at the appointed hour, and not keep the lady waiting for him clad in her riding costume. he should see the lady comfortably seated in her saddle before he mounts himself; take his position on the lady's right in riding, open all gates and pay all tolls on the road. [illustration] assisting a lady to mount. the lady will place herself on the left side of the horse, standing as close to it as possible, with her skirts gathered in her left hand, her right hand upon the pommel, and her face toward the horse's head. the gentleman should stand at the horse's shoulder, facing the lady, and stooping, hold his hand so that she may place her foot in it. this she does, when the foot is lifted as she springs, so as to gently aid her in gaining the saddle. the gentleman must then put her foot in the stirrup, smooth the skirt of her riding habit, and give her the reins and her riding whip. riding with ladies. in riding with one lady, a gentleman takes his position to the right of her. when riding with two or more, his position is still to the right unless one of them needs his assistance or requests his presence near her. he must offer all the courtesies of the road, and yield the best and shadiest side to the ladies. the lady must always decide upon the pace at which to ride. it is ungenerous to urge her or incite her horse to a faster gait than she feels competent to undertake. if a gentleman, when riding alone, meets a lady who is walking and wishes to enter into conversation with her, he must alight and remain on foot while talking with her. assisting a lady to alight from her horse. after the ride, the gentleman must assist his companion to alight. she must first free her knee from the pommel, and be certain that her habit is entirely disengaged. he must then take her left hand in his right, and offer his left hand as a step for her foot. he then lowers his hand slowly and allows her to reach the ground gently without springing. a lady should not attempt to spring from the saddle. driving. the choicest seat in a double carriage is the one facing the horses, and gentlemen should always yield this seat to the ladies. if only one gentleman and one lady are riding in a two-seated carriage, the gentleman must sit opposite the lady, unless she invites him to a seat by her side. the place of honor is on the right hand of the seat facing the horses. this is also the seat of the hostess, which she never resigns. if she is not driving, it must be offered to the most distinguished lady. a person should enter a carriage with the back to the seat, so as to prevent turning round in the carriage. a gentleman must be careful not to trample upon or crush a lady's dress. in driving, one should always remember that the rule of the road in meeting and passing another vehicle is to keep to the right. assisting ladies to alight. a gentleman must first alight from a carriage, even if he has to pass before a lady in doing so. he must then assist the ladies to alight. if there is a servant with the carriage, the latter may hold open the door, but the gentleman must by all means furnish the ladies the required assistance. if a lady has occasion to leave the carriage before the gentleman accompanying her, he must alight to assist her out, and if she wishes to resume her seat, he must again alight to help her to do so. in assisting a lady to enter a carriage, a gentleman will take care that the skirt of her dress is not allowed to hang outside. a carriage robe should be provided to protect her dress from the mud and dust of the road. the gentleman should provide the lady with her parasol, fan and shawl, and see that she is comfortable in every way, before he seats himself. trusting the driver. while driving with another who holds the reins, you must not interfere with the driver, as anything of this kind implies a reproof, which is very offensive. if you think his conduct wrong, or are in fear of danger resulting, you may delicately suggest a change, apologizing therefor. you should resign yourself to the driver's control, and be perfectly calm and self-possessed during the course of a drive. chapter xvi. courtship and marriage. the correct behavior of young men toward young ladies, and of young ladies toward young men, during that portion of their lives when they are respectively paying attention to, and receiving attention from, one another, is a matter which requires consideration in a work of this nature. a gentleman's conduct toward ladies. young people of either sex, who have arrived at mature age, and who are not engaged, have the utmost freedom in their social intercourse in this country, and are at liberty to associate and mingle freely in the same circles with those of the opposite sex. gentlemen are at liberty to invite their lady friends to concerts, operas, balls, etc., to call upon them at their homes, to ride and drive with them, and make themselves agreeable to all young ladies to whom their company is acceptable. in fact they are at liberty to accept invitations and give them _ad libitum_. as soon, however, as a young gentleman neglects all others, to devote himself to a single lady, he gives that lady reason to suppose that he is particularly attracted to her, and may give her cause to believe that she is to become engaged to him, without telling her so. a gentleman who does not contemplate matrimony should not pay too exclusive attention to any one lady. a lady's conduct toward gentlemen. a young lady who is not engaged may receive calls and attentions from such unmarried gentlemen as she desires, and may accept invitations to ride, to concerts, theatres, etc. she should use due discretion, however, as to whom she favors by the acceptance of such invitations. a young lady should not allow special attention from anyone to whom she is not specially attracted, because, first, she may do injury to the gentleman in seeming to give his suit encouragement; and, secondly, she may keep away from her those whom she likes better, but who will not approach her under the mistaken idea that her feelings are already interested. a young lady should not encourage the addresses of a gentleman unless she feels that she can return his affections. it is the prerogative of a man to propose, and of a woman to accept or refuse, and a lady of tact and kind heart will exercise her prerogative before her suitor is brought to the humiliation of an offer which must result in a refusal. no well-bred lady will too eagerly receive the attentions of a gentleman, no matter how much she admires him; nor, on the other hand, will she be so reserved as to altogether discourage him. a man may show considerable attention to a lady without becoming a lover; and so a lady may let it be seen that she is not disagreeable to him without discouraging him. she will be able to judge soon from his actions and deportment, as to his motive in paying her his attentions, and will treat him accordingly. a man does not like to be refused when he makes a proposal, and no man of tact will risk a refusal. neither will a well-bred lady encourage a man to make a proposal, which she must refuse. she should endeavor, in discouraging him as a lover, to retain his friendship. a young man of sensibilities, who can take a hint when it is offered him, need not run the risk of a refusal. premature declaration. it is very injudicious, not to say presumptuous, for a gentleman to make a proposal to a young lady on too brief an acquaintance. a lady who would accept a gentleman at first sight can hardly possess the discretion needed to make a good wife. thorough acquaintance as a basis for marriage. perhaps there is such a thing as love at first sight, but love alone is a very uncertain foundation upon which to base marriage. there should be thorough acquaintanceship and a certain knowledge of harmony of tastes and temperaments before matrimony is ventured upon. proper manner of courtship. it is impossible to lay down any rule as to the proper mode of courtship and proposal. in france it is the business of the parents to settle all preliminaries. in england the young man asks the consent of the parents to pay addresses to their daughter. in this country the matter is left almost entirely to the young people. it seems that circumstances must determine whether courtship may lead to engagement. thus, a man may begin seriously to court a girl, but may discover before any promise binds them to each other, that they are entirely unsuited to one another, when he may, with perfect propriety and without serious injury to the lady, withdraw his attentions. certain authorities insist that the consent of parents must always be obtained before the daughter is asked to give herself in marriage. while there is nothing improper or wrong in such a course, still, in this country, with our social customs, it is deemed best in most cases not to be too strict in this regard. each case has its own peculiar circumstances which must govern it, and it seems at least pardonable if the young man should prefer to know his fate directly from the lips of the most interested party, before he submits himself to the cooler judgment and the critical observation of the father and mother, who are not by any means in love with him, and who may possibly regard him with a somewhat jealous eye, as having already monopolized their daughter's affections, and now desires to take her away from them altogether. parents should exercise authority over daughters. parents should always be perfectly familiar with the character of their daughter's associates, and they should exercise their authority so far as not to permit her to form any improper acquaintances. in regulating the social relations of their daughter, parents should bear in mind the possibility of her falling in love with any one with whom she may come in frequent contact. therefore, if any gentleman of her acquaintance is particularly ineligible as a husband, he should be excluded as far as practicable from her society. a watchful care required by parents. parents, especially mothers, should also watch with a jealous care the tendencies of their daughter's affections; and if they see them turning toward unworthy or undesirable objects, influence of some sort should be brought to bear to counteract this. great delicacy and tact are required to manage matters rightly. a more suitable person may, if available, be brought forward, in the hope of attracting the young girl's attention. the objectionable traits of the undesirable suitor should be made apparent to her without the act seeming to be intentional; and if all this fails, let change of scene and surroundings by travel or visiting accomplish the desired result. the latter course will generally do it, if matters have not been allowed to progress too far and the young girl is not informed _why_ she is temporarily banished from home. an acceptable suitor. parents should always be able to tell from observation and instinct just how matters stand with their daughter; and if the suitor is an acceptable one and everything satisfactory, then the most scrupulous rules of etiquette will not prevent their letting the young couple alone. if the lover chooses to propose directly to the lady and consult her father afterward, consider that he has a perfect right to do so. if her parents have sanctioned his visits and attentions by a silent consent, he has a right to believe that his addresses will be favorably received by them. requirements for a happy marriage. respect for each other is as necessary to a happy marriage as that the husband and wife should have an affection for one another. social equality, intellectual sympathy, and sufficient means are very important matters to be considered by those who contemplate matrimony. it must be remembered that husband and wife, after marriage, have social relations to sustain, and perhaps it will be discovered, before many months of wedded life have passed, when there is a social inequality, that one of the two have made a sacrifice for which no adequate compensation has been or ever will be received. and so both lives become soured and spoiled, because neither receives nor can receive the sympathy which their efforts deserve, and because their cares are multiplied from a want of congeniality. one or the other may find that the noble qualities seen by the impulse of early love, were but the creation of an infatuated fancy, existing only in the mind where it originated. another condition of domestic happiness is intellectual sympathy. man requires a woman who can make his home a place of rest for him, and woman requires a man of domestic tastes. while a woman who seeks to find happiness in a married life will never consent to be wedded to an idler or a pleasure-seeker, so a man of intelligence will wed none but a woman of intelligence and good sense. neither beauty, physical characteristics nor other external qualifications will compensate for the absence of intellectual thought and clear and quick comprehensions. an absurd idea is held by some that intelligence and domestic virtues cannot go together; that an intellectual woman will never be content to stay at home to look after the interests of her household and children. a more unreasonable idea has never been suggested, for as the intellect is strengthened and cultured, it has a greater capacity of affection, of domesticity and of self-sacrifice for others. mutual trust and confidence are other requisites for happiness in married life. there can be no true love without trust. the responsibility of a man's life is in a woman's keeping from the moment he puts his heart into her hands. without mutual trust there can be no real happiness. another requisite for conjugal happiness is moral and religious sympathy, that each may walk side by side in the same path of moral purpose and social usefulness, with joint hope of immortality. proposals of marriage. rules in regard to proposals of marriage cannot be laid down, for they are and should be as different as people. the best way is to apply to the lady in person, and receive the answer from her own lips. if courage should fail a man in this, he can resort to writing, by which he can clearly and boldly express his feelings. a spoken declaration should be bold, manly and earnest, and so plain in its meaning that there can be no misunderstanding. as to the exact words to be used, there can be no set formula; each proposer must be governed by his own ideas and sense of propriety in the matter. do not press an unwelcome suit. a gentleman should evince a sincere and unselfish affection for his beloved, and he will show as well as feel that her happiness must be considered before his own. consequently he should not press an unwelcome suit upon a young lady. if she has no affection for him, and does not conceive it possible even to entertain any, it is cruel to urge her to give her person without her love. the eager lover may believe, for the time being, that such possession would satisfy him, but the day will surely come when he will reproach his wife that she had no love for him, and he will possibly make that an excuse for all manner of unkindness. a lady's first refusal. it is not always necessary to take a lady's first refusal as absolute. diffidence or uncertainty as to her own feelings may sometimes influence a lady to reply in the negative, and after-consideration cause her to regret that reply. though a gentleman may repeat his suit with propriety after having been once repulsed, still it should not be repeated too often nor too long, lest it should degenerate into importuning. no lady worthy any gentleman's regard will say "no" twice to a suit which she intends ultimately to receive with favor. a lady should be allowed all the time she requires before making up her mind; and if the gentleman grows impatient at the delay, he is always at liberty to insist on an immediate answer and abide by the consequences of his impatience. a lady's positive refusal. a lady who really means "no" should be able to so say it as to make her meaning unmistakable. for her own sake and that of her suitor, if she really desires the suit ended her denial should be positive, yet kind and dignified, and of a character to let no doubt remain of its being final. trifling with a lady. a man should never make a declaration in a jesting manner. it is most unfair to a lady. he has no right to trifle with her feelings for mere sport, nor has he a right to hide his own meaning under the guise of a jest. a doubtful answer. nothing can be more unfair or more unjustifiable than a doubtful answer given under the plea of sparing the suitor's feelings. it raises false hopes. it renders a man restless and unsettled. it may cause him to express himself or to shape his conduct in such a manner as he would not dream of doing were his suit utterly hopeless. how to treat a refusal. as a woman is not bound to accept the first offer that is made to her, so no sensible man will think the worse of her, nor feel himself personally injured by a refusal. that it will give him pain is most probable. a scornful "no" or a simpering promise to "think about it" is the reverse of generous. in refusing, the lady ought to convey her full sense of the high honor intended her by the gentleman, and to add, seriously but not offensively, that it is not in accordance with her inclination, or that circumstances compel her to give an unfavorable answer. unladylike conduct toward a suitor. it is only the contemptible flirt that keeps an honorable man in suspense for the purpose of glorifying herself by his attentions in the eyes of friends. nor would any but a frivolous or vicious girl boast of the offer she had received and rejected. such an offer is a privileged communication. the secret of it should be held sacred. no true lady will ever divulge to anyone, unless it may be to her mother, the fact of such an offer. it is the severest breach of honor to do so. a lady who has once been guilty of boasting of an offer should never have a second opportunity for thus boasting. no true-hearted woman can entertain any other feeling than that of commiseration for the man over whose happiness she has been compelled to throw a cloud, while the idea of triumphing in his distress, or abusing his confidence, must be inexpressibly painful to her. the rejected suitor. the duty of the rejected suitor is quite clear. etiquette demands that he shall accept the lady's decision as final and retire from the field. he has no right to demand the reason of her refusal. if she assign it, he is bound to respect her secret, if it is one, and to hold it inviolable. to persist in urging his suit or to follow up the lady with marked attentions would be in the worst possible taste. the proper course is to withdraw as much as possible, from the circles in which she moves, so that she may be spared reminiscences which cannot be otherwise than painful. presents after engagement. when a couple become engaged, the gentleman presents the lady with a ring, which is worn on the ring-finger of the right hand. he may also make her other small presents from time to time, until they are married, but if she has any scruples about accepting them, he can send her flowers, which are at all times acceptable. conduct of the fiancee. the conduct of the _fiancee_ should be tender, assiduous and unobtrusive. he will be kind and polite to the sisters of his betrothed and friendly with her brothers. yet he must not be in any way unduly familiar or force himself into family confidences on the ground that he is to be regarded as a member of the family. let the advance come rather from them to him, and let him show a due appreciation of any confidences which they may be pleased to bestow upon him. the family of the young man should make the first advances toward an acquaintance with his future wife. they should call upon her or write to her, and they may with perfect propriety invite her to visit them in order that they may become acquainted. the position of an engaged woman. an engaged woman should eschew all flirtations, though it does not follow that she is to cut herself off from all association with the other sex because she has chosen her future husband. she may still have friends and acquaintances, she may still receive visits and calls, but she must try to conduct herself in such a manner as to give no offense. position of an engaged man. the same rules may be laid down in regard to the other party to the contract, only that he pays visits instead of receiving them. neither should assume a masterful or jealous altitude toward the other. they are neither of them to be shut up away from the rest of the world, but must mingle in society after marriage nearly the same as before, and take the same delight in friendship. the fact that they have confessed their love for each other, ought to be deemed a sufficient guarantee of faithfulness; for the rest let there be trust and confidence. the relations of an engaged couple. a young man has no right to put a slight upon his future bride by appearing in public with other ladies while she remains neglected at home. he is in future her legitimate escort. he should attend no other lady when she needs his services; she should accept no other escort when he is at liberty to attend her. a lady should not be too demonstrative of her affection during the days of her engagement. there is always the chance of "a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip;" and over-demonstrations of love are not pleasant to be remembered by a young lady, if the man to whom they are given by any chance fails to become her husband. an honorable man will never tempt his future bride to any such demonstration. he will always maintain a respectful and decorous demeanor toward her. no young man who would shrink from being guilty of a great impropriety, should ever prolong his visits beyond ten o'clock, unless it be the common custom of the family to remain up and to entertain visitors to a later hour, and the visit paid is a family one and not a _tete-a-tete_. two hours is quite long enough for a call; and the young man will give evidence of his affection no less than his consideration, by making his visits short, and, if need be, making them often, rather than by prolonging to unreasonable hours. lovers' disputes. neither party should try to make the other jealous for the purpose of testing his or her affection. such a course is contemptible; and if the affections of the other are permanently lost by it, the offending party is only gaining his or her just deserts. neither should there be provocation to little quarrels for the foolish delight of reconciliation. no lover will assume a domineering attitude over his future wife. if he does so, she will do well to escape from his thrall before she becomes his wife in reality. a domineering lover will be certain to be more domineering as a husband. breaking an engagement. sometimes it is necessary to break off an engagement. many circumstances will justify this. indeed anything which may occur or be discovered which shall promise to render the marriage an unsuitable or unhappy one is, and should be accepted as, justification for such rupture. still, breaking an engagement is always a serious and distressing thing, and ought not to be contemplated without absolute and just reasons. it is generally best to break an engagement by letter. by this means one can express himself or herself more clearly, and give the true reason for his or her course much better than in a personal interview. the letter breaking the engagement should be accompanied by everything, in the way of portraits, letters or gifts, that has been received during the engagement. such letters should be acknowledged in a dignified manner, and no efforts should be made or measures be taken to change the decision of the writer, unless it is manifest that he or she is greatly mistaken in his or her premises. a similar return of letters, portraits and gifts should be made. many men, in taking retrospective glances, remember how they were devoted to women, the memory of whom calls up only a vague sort of wonder how they ever could have fallen into the state of infatuation in which they once were. the same may be said of many women. heart-breaking separations have taken place between young men and young women who have learned that the sting of parting does not last forever. the heart, lacerated by a hopeless or misplaced attachment, when severed from the cause of its woe, gradually heals and prepares itself to receive fresh wounds, for affection requires either a constant contemplation of, or intercourse, with its object, to keep it alive. [illustration] chapter xvii. etiquette of weddings. the circumstances under which weddings take place are so varied, and the religious forms observed in their solemnization so numerous, that to lay down rules applicable to all cases would be a matter of great difficulty, if not an impossibility. consequently only those forms of marriage attended with the fullest ceremonies, and all the attendant ceremonials will here be given, and others may be modeled after them as the occasion may seem to require. after the marriage invitations are issued, the _fiancee_ does not appear in public. it is also _de rigueur_ at morning weddings, that she does not see the bridegroom on the wedding-day, until they meet at the altar. the bridemaids and groomsmen. only relatives and the most intimate friends are asked to be bridemaids--the sisters of the bride and of the bridegroom, where it is possible. the bridegroom chooses his best man and the groomsmen and ushers from his circle of relatives and friends of his own age, and from the relatives of his _fiancee_ of a suitable age. the dresses of the bridemaids are not given unless their circumstances are such as to make it necessary. the bridal costume. the most approved bridal costume for young brides is of white silk, high corsage, a long wide veil of white tulle, reaching to the feet, and a wreath of maiden-blush roses with orange blossoms. the roses she can continue to wear, but the orange blossoms are only suitable for the ceremony. costumes of the bridegroom and ushers. the bridegroom and ushers, at a morning wedding, wear full morning dress, dark blue or black frock coats, or cut-aways, light neckties, and light trousers. the bridegroom wears white gloves. the ushers wear gloves of some delicate color. presents of the bride and bridegroom. where the bride makes presents to the bridemaids on her wedding-day, they generally consist of some articles of jewelry, not costly, and given more as a memento of the occasion than for their own intrinsic worth. the bridegroom sometimes gives the groomsmen a scarf pin of some quaint device, or some other slight memento of the day, as a slight acknowledgment of their services. ceremonials when there are no ushers or bridemaids. when there are no bridemaids or ushers the marriage ceremonials at the church are as follows: the members of the bride's family proceed to the church before the bride, who follows with her mother. the bridegroom awaits them at the church and gives his arm to the bride's mother. they walk up the aisle to the altar, the mother falling back to her position on the left. the father, or relative representing him, conducts the bride to the bridegroom, who stands at the altar with his face turned toward her as she approaches, and the father falls back to the left. the relatives follow, taking their places standing; those of the bride to the left, those of the groom to the right. after kneeling at the altar for a moment, the bride, standing on the left of the bridegroom, takes the glove off from her left hand, while he takes the glove off from his right hand. the service then begins. the father of the bride gives her away by bowing when the question is asked, which is a much simpler form than stepping forward and placing his daughter's hand in that of the clergyman. perfect self-control should be exhibited by all parties during the ceremony. the bride leaves the altar, taking the bridegroom's right arm, and they pass down the aisle without looking to the right or left. it is considered very bad form to recognize acquaintances by bows and smiles while in the church. the bride and bridegroom drive away in their own carriage, the rest following in their carriages. invitations to the ceremony only. when the circle of friends on both sides is very extensive, it has become customary of late to send invitations to such as are not called to the wedding breakfast, to attend the ceremony at church. this stands in the place of issuing cards. no one must think of calling on the newly married couple who has not received an invitation to the ceremony at church, or cards after their establishment in their new home. the latest ceremonials. the latest new york form for conducting the marriage ceremony is substantially as follows: when the bridal party has arranged itself for entrance, the ushers, in pairs march slowly up to the altar and turn to the right. behind them follows the groom alone. when he reaches the altar he turns, faces the aisle, and watches intently for the coming of his bride. after a slight interval the bridemaids follow, in pairs, and at the altar turn to the left. after another brief interval, the bride, alone and entirely veiled, with her eyes cast down, follows her companions. the groom comes forward a few steps to meet her, takes her hand, and places her at the altar. both kneel for a moment's silent devotion. the parents of the bride, having followed her, stand just behind her and partly to the left. the services by the clergyman now proceed as usual. while the bride and bridegroom are passing out of the church, the bridemaids follow slowly, each upon the arm of an usher, and they afterward hasten on as speedily as possible to welcome the bride at her own door, and to arrange themselves about the bride and groom in the reception room, half of the ladies upon her side and half upon his--the first bridemaid retaining the place of honor. the ushers' duties. the ushers at the door of the reception room offer themselves as escorts to parties, who arrive slowly from the church, conducting them to the bridal party, and there presenting them by name. this announcement becomes necessary when two families and two sets of friends are brought together for the first time. if ladies are present without gentlemen, the ushers accompany them to the breakfast or refreshment room, or provide them with attendants. at the church the ushers are the first to arrive. they stand by the inner entrance and offer their arms to escort the ladies, as they enter, to their proper seats in the church. if a lady be accompanied by a gentleman, the latter follows the usher and the lady to the seat shown her. the ushers, knowing the two families, understand where to place the nearer, and where the remoter relatives and friends of the bridal party, the groom's friends being arranged upon the right of the entrance, and the bride's upon the left. the distribution of guests places the father (or guardian) of the bride at the proper place during the ceremony. another form of church ceremonials. the ceremonials for the entry to the church by the bridal party may be varied to suit the taste. precedents for the style already described are found among the highest social circles in new york and other large cities, but there are brides who prefer the fashion of their grandmothers, which is almost strictly an american fashion. in this style, the bridemaids, each leaning upon the arm of a groomsman, first pass up the aisle to the altar, the ladies going to their left, and the gentlemen to their right. the groom follows with the bride's mother, or some one to represent her, leaning on his arm, whom he seats in a front pew at the left. the bride follows, clinging to the arm of her father (or near relative), who leads her to the groom. the father waits at her left and a step or two back of her, until asked to give her away, which he does by taking her right hand and placing it in that of the clergyman. after this he joins the mother of the bride in the front pew, and becomes her escort while they pass out of the church. in case there are no bridemaids, the ushers walk into church in pairs, just in advance of the groom, and parting at the altar, half of them stand at one side and half at the other. while the clergyman is congratulating the bride, they pass out in pairs, a little in advance of the wedded couple. weddings at home. weddings at home vary but little from those at church. the music, the assembling of friends, the _entree_ of the bridal party to the position selected, are the same. an altar of flowers, and a place of kneeling can be easily arranged at home. the space behind the altar need be no wider than is allowed for the clergyman to stand. the altar is generally only a fender or railing entirely wound and concealed by greenery or blossoms. other floral accessories, such as the marriage-bell, horseshoe, or white dove, etc., can be arranged with ease by a skillful florist, if desired. when the marriage ceremony is concluded, the party turn in their places and face their friends, who proceed to congratulate them. if space be required, the kneeling stool and floral altar may be removed, a little later, without observation. the evening wedding. if the wedding occur in the evening, the only difference in the ceremonials from those in the morning is that the ushers or groomsmen wear full evening dress, and the bridal pair retire quietly to dress for their journey before the dancing party disperses, and thus leave unobserved. at the morning wedding only bridemaids, ushers and relatives remain to witness the departure of the pair. "at home" receptions. when the newly married couple commence life in a home of their own, it is customary to issue "at home" cards for a few evenings, at an early date after the wedding, for informal receptions. only such persons are invited as the young couple choose to keep as friends, or perhaps only those whom they can afford to retain. this is a suitable opportunity to carefully re-arrange one's social list, and their list of old acquaintances may be sifted at the time of the beginning of housekeeping. this custom of arranging a fresh list is admitted as a social necessity, and nobody is offended. calls. all guests and friends who receive "at home" invitations, or who are invited to the church, are required by etiquette to call upon the family of the bride, or to leave their cards, within ten days after the wedding. the wedding ring. all churches at present use the ring, and vary the sentiment of its adoption to suit the customs and ideas of their own rites. a jeweled ring has been for many years the sign and symbol of betrothal, but at present a plain gold circlet, with the date of the engagement inscribed within, is generally preferred. the ring is removed by the groom at the altar, passed to the clergyman and used in the ceremony. a jeweled ring is placed upon her hand by the groom on the way home from the church, or as soon after the service as is convenient. it stands guard over its precious fellow, and is a confirmation of the first promise. the marriage ceremonials of a widow. the marriage ceremonials of a widow differ from that of a young lady in not wearing the veil and orange blossoms. she may be costumed in white and have her maids at the altar if she pleases. this liberty, however, has only been given her within a few years. on her wedding cards of invitation, her maiden name is used as a part of her proper name; which is done in respect to her parents. having dropped the initials of her dead husband's name when she laid aside her mourning, she uses her christian name. if she has sons or unmarried daughters at the time she becomes again a wife, she may prefix the last name of her children to her new one on all ceremonious occasions in which they are interested in common with herself. this respect is really due them, and etiquette permits it, although our social usages do not command its adoption. the formalities which follow the marriage of a widow can seldom be regulated in the same manner as those of a younger bride. no fixed forms can be arranged for entertainments, which must be controlled by circumstances. invitations. wedding invitations should be handsomely engraved in script. neither old english nor german text are admissible in invitations. the following is given as the latest form for invitations: [illustration: mr. & mrs. theodore grosser _request your presence at the marriage of their daughter_, =miss felicia grosser= _to_ =mr. julius c. forsyth=, _on wednesday, september th, at_ _ o'clock._ _st. luke's church,_ _cass avenue._] this invitation requires no answer. friends living in other towns and cities receiving it, inclose their cards, and send by mail. residents call on the family within the prescribed time, or as soon after as possible. the invitation to the wedding breakfast is enclosed in the same envelope, generally conveyed on a square card, the same size as the sheet of note paper which bears the invitation for the ceremony after it has been once folded across the middle. the following is one of the adopted forms: [illustration: _at home,_ _wednesday, september th,_ _from until o'clock._ _ main avenue._] the separate cards of the bride and groom are no longer necessary. the card of admission to the church is narrower, and is plainly engraved in large script, as follows: [illustration: _st. luke's church,_ _ceremony at o'clock._] generally only half an hour intervenes between the ceremony and the reception. duties of those invited. people who receive "at home" wedding invitations, are expected to acknowledge them as soon as received, and never fail to accept, unless for some very good reason. guests invited to the house, or to a marriage feast following the ceremony, should not feel at liberty to decline from any whim or caprice. requirements of the bridemaids and ushers. bridesmaids and ushers should allow nothing but illness or some unavoidable accident to prevent them from officiating, thus showing their appreciation of the friendship which has caused their selection to this honored position. if by reason of sudden affliction, some one of the bridemaids or ushers is prevented from attending, a substitute should, if possible, be provided immediately. the reasons for this, however, should be well understood, that no opportunity may be given for uncharitable comments. bridal presents. when bridal presents are given, they are sent to the bride previous to the day of the marriage ceremony. as the universal bridal present has fallen into disuse, this custom is not now considered obligatory, and if immediate friends and relatives desire to make presents, it should be spontaneous, and in no sense considered obligatory. these presents are not put on exhibition as formerly, but are acknowledged by the bride in a private note to the donor. it is not now considered in good form to talk about these contributions. arrangements for the ceremonies. in weddings at churches a master of ceremonies is often provided, who is expected to be at the church as soon as the doors are opened. he arranges beforehand for the spreading of a carpet from the church door to the pavement, and if the weather be inclement, he sees that an awning is also spread. he also sees that a white ribbon is stretched across the main aisle of the church, far enough back from the altar to afford sufficient room for all invited guests to occupy the front pews of the main aisle. sometimes an arch of flowers extends over the aisle, so as to divide those who come in wedding garments, from those who do not. the organist should be early at his post, and is expected to play during the arrival of guests. the order of the religious part of the marriage ceremony is fixed by the church in which it occurs. the wedding fees. there is no prescribed fee for performing the marriage ceremony. it is regulated according to the means and liberality of the bridegroom, but no less amount than five dollars should be given under any circumstances. the congratulations. at wedding receptions, friends who congratulate the newly married couple should address the bride first, if they have any previous acquaintance with her, then the bridegroom, then the bridemaids, and after that the parents and family of the bride and groom. they should give their good wishes to the bride and congratulate the bridegroom. if they are acquainted with the bridegroom and not with the bride, let them address him first and he will introduce them to his bride. the bridal tour. the honeymoon of repose, exempt from all claims of society, is now prescribed by the dictates of common sense and fashion, and the same arbiters unite in condemning the harrassing bridal tour. it is no longer _de rigueur_ to maintain any secrecy as to their plans for traveling, when a newly married couple depart upon a tour. [illustration] chapter xviii. home life and etiquette. home is the woman's kingdom, and there she reigns supreme. to embellish that home, to make happy the lives of her husband and the dear ones committed to her trust, is the honored task which it is the wife's province to perform. all praise be to her who so rules and governs in that kingdom, that those reared beneath her roof "shall rise up and call her blessed." a home. after marriage one of the first requirements for happiness is a home. this can seldom be found in a boarding house or at a hotel, and not always beneath the parental roof of either husband or wife. it will oftenest be found in a house or even a cottage apart from the immediate association of relatives or friends, acquaintances or strangers, and here husband and wife may begin in reality, that new life of which they have had fond dreams; and upon their own actions must depend their future welfare. home companionship. [illustration] husband and wife should remember, when starting out upon their newly wedded life, that they are to be life companions, that the affection they have possessed and expressed as lovers must ripen into a life-long devotion to one another's welfare and happiness, that the closest friendship must be begotten from their early love, and that each must live and work for the other. they must seek to be congenial companions to each other, so that every hour they pass together will be mutually enjoyable. they should aim to have the same tastes so that what one enjoys will be alike enjoyable to the other, and what is distasteful to one shall be no less so to the other. each should yield in matters where it is right to yield, and be firm only where duty is concerned. with a firm trust in one another they should ever abide, that each may say to the world, "i possess one on whose character and heart i can lean as upon a rock." conduct of husband and wife. let neither ever deceive the other, or do anything to shake the other's confidence, for once deceived, the heart can never wholly trust again. fault-finding should only be done by gentle and mild criticism, and then with loving words and pleasant looks. make allowances for one another's weaknesses, and at the same time endeavor to mutually repress them. for the sake of mutual improvement the husband and wife should receive and give corrections to one another in a spirit of kindness, and in doing so they will prepare themselves for the work god gives the parents of training lives for usefulness here and hereafter. their motto should be "faithful unto death in all things," and they must exercise forbearance with each other's peculiarities. let both preserve a strict guard over their tongues, that neither may utter anything rude, contemptuous or severe, and guard their tempers, that neither may ever grow passionate or become sullen or morose in one another's presence. they should not expect too much from each other; if either offends, it is the part of the other to forgive, remembering that no one is free from faults, and that we are all constantly erring. if, perchance, after they have entered upon the stern realities of life, they find, that they have made a mistake, that they are not well mated, then they must accept the inevitable and endure to the end, "for better or for worse;" for only in this way can they find consolation for having found out, when too late, that they were unfitted for a life-long companionship. a journalist has said: "no lessons learned by experience, however sharply taught and sadly earned, can enlighten the numbed senses which love has sent to sleep by its magic fascination; and things as plain as the sun in heaven to others are dark as night, unfathomable as the sea, to those who let themselves love before they prove." duties of the wife to her husband. the wife should remember that upon her, to the greatest extent, devolves the duty of making home happy. she should do nothing to make her husband feel uncomfortable, either mentally or physically, but on the other hand she should strive to the utmost of her ability to do whatever is best calculated to please him, continually showing him that her love, plighted upon the altar, remains steadfast, and that no vicissitudes of fortune can change or diminish it. she should never indulge in fits of temper, hysterics, or other habits of ill-breeding, which, though easy to conquer at first, grow and strengthen with indulgence, if she would retain her husband as her lover and her dearest and nearest friend. she should be equally as neat and tidy respecting her dress and personal appearance at home as when she appears in society, and her manners towards her husband should be as kind and pleasing when alone with him as when in company. she should bear in mind that to retain the good opinion of her husband is worth far more than to gain the good opinion of hundreds of the devotees of society, and that as she possesses the love and confidence of her husband, so will she receive the respect and esteem of all his friends. she should be careful not to confide to another any small misunderstandings or petty quarrels between herself and husband, should any occur. this is the surest method of widening any breach of harmony that may occur between husband and wife, for the more such misunderstandings are talked about, and the more advice she receives from her confidants, there is less probability that harmonious relations will be speedily resumed. the wife a helpmate. a wife should act openly and honorably in regard to money matters, keeping an exact account of her expenditures, and carefully guarding against any extravagances; and while her husband is industriously at work, she should seek to encourage him, by her own frugality, to be economical, thrifty, enterprising and prosperous in his business, that he may be better enabled, as years go by and family cares press more heavily on each, to afford all the comforts and perhaps some of the luxuries of a happy home. no condition is hopeless when the wife possesses firmness, decision and economy, and no outward prosperity can counteract indolence, folly and extravagance at home. she should consult the disposition and tastes of her husband, and endeavor to lead him to high and noble thoughts, lofty aims, and temporal comfort; be ever ready to welcome him home, and in his companionship draw his thoughts from business and lead him to the enjoyment of home comforts and happiness. the influence of a good wife over her husband may be very great, if she exerts it in the right direction. she should, above all things, study to learn the disposition of her husband, and if, perchance, she finds herself united to a man of quick and violent temper, the utmost discretion, as well as perfect equanimity on her own part is required, for she should have such perfect control over herself as to calm his perturbed spirits. a husband's duties. it must not be supposed that it devolves upon the wife alone to make married life and home happy. she must be seconded in her noble efforts by him who took her from her own parental fireside and kind friends, to be his companion through life's pilgrimage. he has placed her in a new home, provided with such comforts as his means permit, and the whole current of both their lives have been changed. his constant duty to his wife is to be ever kind and attentive, to love her as he loves himself, even sacrificing his own personal comfort for her happiness. from his affection for her, there should grow out a friendship and fellowship, such as is possessed for no other person. his evenings and spare moments should be devoted to her, and these should be used for their intellectual, moral and social advancement. the cares and anxieties of business should not exclude the attentions due to wife and family, while he should carefully keep her informed of the condition of his business affairs. many a wife is capable of giving her husband important advice about various details of his business, and if she knows the condition of his pecuniary affairs, she will be able to govern her expenditures accordingly. it is the husband's duty to join with his wife in all her endeavors to instruct her children, to defer all matters pertaining to their discipline to her, aiding her in this respect as she requires it. in household matters the wife rules predominant, and he should never interfere with her authority and government in this sphere. it is his duty and should be his pleasure to accompany her to church, to social gatherings, to lectures and such places of entertainment as they both mutually enjoy and appreciate. in fact he ought not to attend a social gathering unless accompanied by his wife, nor go to an evening entertainment without her. if it is not a fit place for his wife to attend, neither is it fit for him. while he should give his wife his perfect confidence in her faithfulness, trusting implicitly to her honor at all times and in all places, he should, on his part, remain faithful and constant to her, and give her no cause of complaint. he should pass by unnoticed any disagreeable peculiarities and mistakes, taking care at the proper time, and without giving offense, to remind her of them, with the idea of having her correct them. he should never seek to break her of any disagreeable habits or peculiarities she may possess, by ridiculing them. he should encourage her in all her schemes for promoting the welfare of her household, or in laudable endeavors to promote the happiness of others, by engaging in such works of benevolence and charity as the duties of her home will allow her to perform. the husband, in fact, should act toward his wife as becomes a perfect gentleman, regarding her as the "best lady in the land," to whom, above all other earthly beings, he owes paramount allegiance. if he so endeavors to act, his good sense and judgment will dictate to him the many little courtesies which are due her, and which every good wife cannot fail to appreciate. the observance of the rules of politeness are nowhere more desirable than in the domestic circle, between husband and wife, parents and children. [illustration] chapter xix. home training. our earliest and best recollections are associated with home. there the first lessons of infancy are learned. the mother's heart is the child's first school-room. the parents' examples are first imitated by the child, whose earliest impressions are gained from them. in no way are evil habits more effectually propagated than by example, and therefore parents should be what they wish their children to be. the mother's influence. to the mother belongs the privilege of planting in the hearts of her children those seeds of love, which, nurtured and fostered, will bear the fruit of earnest and useful lives. it is she who must fit them to meet the duties and emergencies of life, and in this work of training she keeps her heart fresh and young, and thereby insures the growth of those powers with which nature has endowed her. as the faculties of man, woman or child are brought into active exercise, so do they become strengthened, and the mother, in doing her work in the training of her children, grows in wisdom, in knowledge and in power, thus enabling her the better to perform her duties. parents should set good examples. as children first acquire knowledge and habits from the examples of their parents, the latter should be circumspect in all their actions, manners and modes of speech. if you wish your children's faces illumined with good humor, contentment and satisfaction, so that they will be cheerful, joyous and happy, day by day, then must your own countenance appear illumined by the sunshine of love. kind words, kind deeds and loving looks are true works of charity, and they are needed in our home circle. never a tear bedims the eye, that time and patience can not dry; never a lip is curved with pain, that can not be kissed into smiles again. your children will form habits of evil speaking if they hear you deal lightly with the reputation of another--if they hear you slander or revile your neighbor. if you wish your child to show charity toward the erring, you must set the example by the habitual exercise of that virtue yourself. without this your teaching will be of but little avail. if you take pleasure in dwelling upon the faults of others, if you refuse to cover over their infirmities with the mantle of charity, your example will nullify your teaching, and your admonitions will be lost. courtesies in the home circle. mothers should early train their children to regard all the courtesies of life as scrupulously toward each other as to mere acquaintances and strangers. this is the only way in which you can secure to them the daily enjoyment of a happy home. when the external forms of courtesy are disregarded in the family circle, we are sure to find contention and bickering perpetually recurring. rudeness is a constant source of bickering. each will have his own way of being rude, and each will be angry at some portion of the ill-breeding of all the rest, thus provoking accusations and retorts. where the rule of life is to do good and to make others happy, there will be found the art of securing a happy home. it is said that there is something higher in politeness than christian moralists have recognized. in its best forms, none but the truly religious man can show it, for it is the sacrifice of self in the habitual matters of life--always the best test of our principles--together with a respect for man as our brother, under the same great destiny. early moral training. the true test of the success of any education is its efficiency in giving full use of the moral and intellectual faculties wherewith to meet the duties and the struggles of life, and not by the variety of knowledge acquired. the development of the powers of the mind and its cultivation are the work of a teacher; moral training is the work of the mother, and commences long before one word of precept can be understood. children should be early taught to regard the rights of others, that they may early learn the rights which property confers and not entertain confused ideas upon this subject. formation of habits. virtue is the child of good habits, and the formation of habits may be said to almost constitute the whole work of education. the mother can create habits which shall mold character and enable the mind to maintain that habitual sense of duty which gives command over the passions, and power to fight temptation, and which makes obedience to principle comparatively easy, under most circumstances. the social and domestic life are marred by habits which have grown into a second nature. it is not in an occasional act of civility that the charm of either home or society consists, but in continued practice of courtesy and respect for the rights and feelings of those around us. whatever may be the precepts for a home, the practices of the fireside will give form to the habits. parents who indulge in gossip, scandal, slander and tale-telling, will rear children possessing the same tastes and deteriorating habits. a parent's example outlines the child's character. it sinks down deep into his heart and influences his whole life for good or for evil. a parent should carefully avoid speaking evil of others, and should never exhibit faults requiring the mantle of charity to cover. a parent's example should be such as to excite an abhorrence of evil speaking, of tattling and of uncharitable construction of the motives of others. let the mother begin the proper training of her children in early life and she will be able to so mold their characters that not only will they acquire the habit of bridling the tongue, but they will learn to avoid the presence of the slanderer as they do a deadly viper. politeness at home. genuine politeness is a great fosterer of domestic love, and those who are habitually polished at home are those who exhibit good manners when abroad. when parents receive any little attention from their children, they should thank them for it. they should ask a favor only in a courteous way; never reply to questions in monosyllables, or indulge in the rudeness of paying no attention to a question, for such an example will be surely followed by the children. parents sometimes thoughtlessly allow their children to form habits of disrespect in the home circle, which crop out in the bad manners that are found in society. how to reprove. parents should never check expressions of tenderness in their children, nor humiliate them before others. this will not only cause suffering to little sensitive hearts, but will tend to harden them. reproof, if needed, should be administered to each child singly and alone. cheerfulness at the table. children should not be prohibited from laughing and talking at the table. joyousness promotes the circulation of the blood, enlivens and invigorates it, and sends it to all parts of the system, carrying with it animation, vigor and life. controversy should not be permitted at the table, nor should any subjects which call forth political or religious difference. every topic introduced should be calculated to instruct, interest or amuse. business matters, past disappointments and mishaps should not be alluded to, nor should bad news be spoken of at the table, nor for half an hour before. all conversation should be of joyous and gladsome character, such as will bring out pleasant remarks and agreeable associations. reproof should never be administered at the table, either to a child or to a servant; no fault found with anything, and no unkind word should be spoken. if remarks are to be made of absent ones, they should be of a kind and charitable nature. thus will the family table be the center of pleasant memories in future years, when the family shall have been scattered far and near, and some, perhaps, have been laid in their final resting-place. train children for some occupation. chancellor kent says: "without some preparation made in youth for the sequel of life, children of all conditions would probably become idle and vicious when they grow up, from want of good instruction and habits, and the means of subsistence, or from want of rational and useful occupations. a parent who sends his son into the world without educating him in some art, science, profession or business, does great injury to mankind, as well as to his son and his own family, for he defrauds the community of a useful citizen, and bequeaths to it a nuisance. that parent who trains his child for some special occupation, who inspires him with a feeling of genuine self-respect, has contributed a useful citizen to society." bad temper. dread an insubordinate temper, and deal with it as one of the greatest evils. let the child feel by your manner that he is not a safe companion for the rest of the family when he is in anger. allow no one to speak to him at such times, not even to answer a question. take from him books, and whatever he may have, and place him where he shall feel that the indulgence of a bad temper shall deprive him of all enjoyment, and he will soon learn to control himself. selfishness. selfishness that binds the miser in his chains, that chills the heart, must never be allowed a place in the family circle. teach the child to share his gifts and pleasures with others, to be obliging, kind and benevolent, and the influence of such instruction may come back into your own bosom, to bless your latest hours. home maxims for training children. remember that children are men and women in miniature, and though they should be allowed to act as children, still our dealings with them should be manly and not morose. remember also that every word, tone and gesture, nay, even your dress, makes an impression. never correct a child on suspicion, or without understanding the whole matter, nor trifle with a child's feelings when under discipline. be always mild and cheerful in their presence, communicative, but never extravagant, trifling or vulgar in language or gesture. never trifle with a child nor speak beseechingly when it is doing wrong. always follow commands with a close and careful watch, until the thing is done, allowing no evasion and no modification, unless the child ask for it, and it be expressly granted. never reprove children severely in company, nor hold them up to ridicule, nor make light of their failings. never speak in an impatient, pitiful manner, if you have occasion to find fault. never say to a child, "i don't believe what you say," nor even imply your doubts. if you have such feelings, keep them to yourself and wait; the truth will eventually be made plain. never disappoint the confidence a child places in you, whether it be a thing placed in your care or a promise. always give prompt attention to a child when he speaks, so as to prevent repeated calls, and that he may learn to give prompt attention when you call him. never try to impress a child with religious truth when in anger, or talk to him of god, as it will not have the desired effect. do it under more favorable circumstances. at the table a child should be taught to sit up and behave in a becoming manner, not to tease when denied, nor to leave his chair without asking. a parent's wish at such time should be a law from which no appeal should be made. even in sickness gentle restraint is better for a child than indulgence. there should never be two sets of manners, the one for home and the other for company, but a gentle behavior should be always required. [illustration] [illustration: music. "a protection against vice, an incentive to virtue."] chapter xx. home culture. the work of home culture should be made a matter of great importance to every one, for upon it depends the happiness of earthly homes, as well as our fitness for the enjoyment of the eternal home in heaven. the sufferings endured here, friend for friend, parents for children, unrequited sacrifices, cares and tears, all tend to discipline us, and prepare us for the recompense which eternity brings. cultivate moral courage. moral courage will be cultivated in your children as they observe that you say and do whatever you conscientiously believe to be right and true, without being influenced by the views of others; thus showing them that you fear nothing so much as failing to do your duty. perhaps this may be difficult to do, but every mother can at least show her appreciation of moral courage when she sees it exhibited by others, and in this way incite its growth in the souls of her children. moral courage is a rare endowment, and those who possess it are able to act with perfect independence of the opinions of others, and govern themselves only by the laws of propriety, uprightness and charity. the pernicious influence of indolence. if you would preserve your children from the pernicious influence of indolence and all its corrupting tendencies, you must be earnest in purpose, active, energetic and fervent in spirit. earnestness sharpens the faculties; indolence corrodes and dulls them. by the former we rise higher and higher, by the latter we sink lower and lower. indolence begets discontent, envy and jealousy, while labor elevates the mind and character. cultivate in your children habits of thought which will keep their minds occupied upon something that will be of use or advantage, and prevent them from acquiring habits of idleness, if you would secure their future well-being. it has been said that he who performs no useful act in society, who makes no human being happier, is leading a life of utter selfishness--a life of sin--for a life of selfishness is a life of sin. there is nowhere room for idleness. work is both a duty and a necessity of our nature, and a befitting reward will ever follow it. to foster and encourage labor in some useful form, is a duty which parents should urge upon their children, if they should seek their best good. self-respect. it is the mother's duty to see that her children protect themselves from the many pit-falls which surround them, such as malice, envy, conceit, avariciousness, and other evils, by being clad in the armor of self-respect; and then they will be able to encounter temptation and corruption, unstained and unpolluted. this feeling of self-respect is something stronger than self-reliance, higher than pride. it is an energy of the soul which masters the whole being for its good, watching with a never-ceasing vigilance. it is the sense of duty and the sense of honor combined. it is an armor, which, though powerless to shield from sorrows that purify and invigorate, yet will avert all hostile influences that assail, from whatever source they come. the mother having once made her children conscious that always and everywhere they carry with them such an angel to shield, warn and rescue them, may let them go out into the world, and fear nothing from the wiles and temptations which may beset them. results of good-breeding in the home circle. the laws of good-breeding in no place bear more gratifying results than in the home circle. here, tempered with love, and nurtured by all kindly impulses, they bear the choicest fruit. a true lady will show as much courtesy, and observe the duties of politeness as unfailingly, toward every member of her family as toward her most distinguished guest. a true gentleman will feel bound to exercise courtesy and kindness in his intercourse with those who depend upon him for protection and example. children influenced by such examples at home, will never fail to show to their elders the respect due them, to their young companions the same consideration for their feelings which they expect to meet with in return, nor to servants that patience which even the best too often require. in such a home peace and good will are the household gods. fault-finding and grumbling. the oil of civility is required to make the wheels of domestic life run smoothly. the habit of fault-finding and grumbling indulged in by some, is an exceedingly vexatious one, and will, in time, ruffle the calmest spirit and the sweetest temper. it is the little annoyances, perplexities and misfortunes which often render life a burden; the little omission of minor duties and the committing of little faults that perpetually scourge us and keep the heart sore. constant fault-finding, persistent misrepresentations of motives, suspicions of evil where no evil was intended, will complete the work in all but the finest and most heroic natures. they alone can stand the fiery test, coming out purer and stronger for the ordeal. children who habitually obey the commandment, "be kind to one another," will find in mature life, how strong the bonds of affection may be that bind the members of the household together. family jars not to be made public. whatever may be the family disagreements, they should never be made known outside of the home circle, if it can be avoided. those who expose the faults of the members of their family are severely judged by the world, and no provocation can be a good excuse for it. it is exceedingly vulgar, not to say unchristianlike, for the members of the same family to be at enmity with one another. yielding to one another. one of the greatest disciplines of human life, is that which teaches us to yield our wills to those who have a claim upon us to do so, even in trifling, every-day affairs; the wife to the husband, children to parents, to teachers and to one another. in cases where principle is concerned, it is, of course, necessary to be firm, which requires an exercise of moral courage. conflicting interests. conflicting interests are a fruitful source of family difficulties. the command of christ to the two brothers who came to him with their disputes, "beware of covetousness," is as applicable among members of the same family now, as it was when those words were spoken. it is better that you have few or no business transactions with any one who is near and dear to you, and connected by family ties. in business relations men are apt to be very exact, because of their habits of business, and this exactness is too often construed by near friends and relatives as actuated by purely selfish motives. upon this rock many a bark of family love has been wrecked. religious education. it is well to remember that every blessing of our lives, every joy of our hearts and every ray of hope shed upon our pathway, have had their origin in religion, and may be traced in all their hallowed, healthful influences to the bible. with the dawn of childhood, then, in the earliest days of intelligence, should the mind be impressed and stored with religious truth, and nothing should be allowed to exclude or efface it. it should be taught so early that the mind will never remember when it began to learn; it will then have the character of innate, inbred principles, incorporated with their very being. obedience. if you would not have all your instructions and counsels ineffectual, teach your children to obey. government in a family is the great safeguard of religion and morals, the support of order and the source of prosperity. nothing has a greater tendency to bring a curse upon a family than the insubordination and disobedience of children, and there is no more painful and disgusting sight than an ungoverned child. influence of example. never forget that the first book children read is their parents' example--their daily deportment. if this is forgotten you may find, in the loss of your domestic peace, that while your children well know the right path, they follow the wrong. childhood is like a mirror, catching and reflecting images all around it. remember that an impious, profane or vulgar thought may operate upon the heart of a young child like a careless spray of water upon polished steel, staining it with rust that no efforts can thoroughly efface. improve the first ten years of life as the golden opportunity, which may never return. it is the seed time, and your harvest depends upon the seed then sown. the influence of books. few mothers can over-estimate the influence which the companionship of books exerts in youth upon the habits and tastes of their children, and no mother who has the welfare of her children at heart will neglect the important work of choosing the proper books for them to read, while they are under her care. she should select for them such as will both interest and instruct, and this should be done during the early years, before their minds shall have imbibed the pernicious teachings of bad books and sensational novels. the poison imbibed from bad books works so secretly that their influence for evil is even greater than the influence of bad associates. the mother has it in her power to make such books the companions and friends of her children as her good judgment may select, and to impress upon them their truths, by conversing with them about the moral lessons or the intellectual instructions they contain. a taste may be easily cultivated for books on natural science and for history, as well as for those that teach important and wholesome lessons for the young, such as are contained in the works of mrs. edgeworth, mrs. child, mrs. yonge, and many other books written for the young. [illustration] chapter xxi. woman's higher education. it has been seen that in the rearing and training of her children, woman has a great work to perform; that in this work she exerts an incalculable influence upon untold numbers, and that she molds the minds and characters of her sons and daughters. how important, then, that she should cultivate her mental faculties to the highest extent, if for no other reason than to fit herself the better for the performance of this great duty of educating her children. how important it is, also, that she should look to the higher education of her daughters, who, in turn, will become mothers of future generations, or may, perhaps, by some vicissitude of fortune, become dependent upon their own resources for support. with the highest culture of the mental faculties, woman will be best enabled to faithfully perform whatever she may undertake. train young women to some occupation. owing to the changes in social and industrial life which have crowded many women from their homes into business and public life, women must train for their branch of labor as men train for their work, if they wish to attain any degree of success. even where women have independent fortunes, their lives will be all the happier if they have been trained to some occupation, that, in case of reverses, may be made a self-sustaining one. a young woman who is able to support herself, increases her chances for a happy marriage, for, not being obliged to rely upon a husband for support or for a home, she is able to judge calmly of an offer when it comes, and is free to accept or decline, because of her independence. women are capable of and adapted to a large number of employments, which have hitherto been kept from them, and some of these they are slowly wrenching from the hands of the sterner sex. in order that women may enter the ranks of labor which she is forcing open to herself, she needs a special education and training to fit her for such employment. education of girls too superficial. the school instruction of our girls is too superficial. there is a smattering of too many branches, where two or three systematically studied and thoroughly mastered, would accomplish much more for them in the way of a sound mental training, which is the real object of education. the present method of educating young girls is to give them from five to ten studies, in which they prepare lessons, and this, too, at an age when their physical development suffers and is checked by excess of mental labor. such a course of instruction, bestowing only a smattering of many branches, wastes the powers of the mind, and deters, rather than aids, self-improvement. it is only a concentration of the mind upon the thorough acquisition of all it undertakes that strengthens the reflective, and forms the reasoning, faculties, and thus helps to lay a solid foundation for future usefulness. the word education means to educe, to draw out the powers of the mind; not the cramming into it of facts, dates and whole pages to be repeated _verbatim_. an education appropriate to each sex. the fact is becoming more palpable every year that there is an education appropriate to each sex; that identical education for the two sexes is so unnatural, that physiology protests against it and experience weeps over it. the physiological motto in education is, "educate a man for manhood, a woman for womanhood, and both for humanity." herbert spencer, in speaking of the want of a proper course of education for girls, says: "it is an astonishing fact that, though on the treatment of offspring depend their lives or deaths, and their moral welfare or ruin, yet not one word of instruction on treatment of offspring is ever given to those who will, by and by, be parents." it will thus be seen, that as women have the care, the training and the education of children, they need an education in a special direction, and should have a very thorough one, to prepare them for the task. women should have a knowledge of the laws of health. physiology is one of the branches of that higher education, which should be thoroughly pursued by women to enable them to fulfill the various duties of their allotted stations. yet it is also desirable that they should have a thorough knowledge of all branches that they undertake, and a mastery of the studies pursued by them; for the want of thoroughness in woman's education is an obstacle to success in all branches of labor. but woman should especially have a thorough knowledge of the laws of physiology and hygiene. if she becomes a mother, such knowledge will enable her to guard better the lives and health of her children. she will understand that when she sends out her child insufficiently clad, and he comes home chilled through, that his vitality, his power of resisting disease, is wasted. she will know that by taking the necessary precautions, she may save the child's life; that she must not take him thus chilled, to the fire or into a room highly heated, but that by gentle exercise or friction, she must restore the circulation of the blood, and in using such precautions, she may ward off the attacks of disease that would surely follow if they were neglected. this is but a single case, for there are instances of almost daily occurrence when a proper knowledge of the laws of health will ward off disease, in her own case, as well as in those of various members of her household. the diseases which carry off children, are for the most part, such as ought to be under the control of the women who love them, pet them, educate them, and who would, in many cases, lay down their lives for them. result of ignorance of sanitary laws. ignorance of the laws of ventilation in sleeping-rooms and school-rooms is the cause of a vast amount of disease. from ignorance of the signs of approaching disease, children are often punished for idleness, listlessness, sulkiness and wilfulness, and this punishment is too often by confinement in a closed room, and by an increase of tasks; when what is really needed is more oxygen, more open-air exercise, and less study. these forms of ignorance have too often resulted in malignant typhus and brain fevers. knowledge of the laws of hygiene will often spare the waste of health and strength in the young, and will also spare anxiety and misery to those who love and tend them. if the time devoted to the many trashy so-called "accomplishments" in a young lady's education, were given to a study of the laws of preserving health, how many precious lives might be spared to loving parents, and how many frail and delicate forms, resulting from inattention to physical training, might have become strong and beautiful temples of exalted souls. we are all in duty bound to know and to obey the laws of nature, on which the welfare of our bodies depends, for the full enjoyment of our faculties can only be attained when the body is in perfect health. idleness a source of misery. perhaps the greatest cause of misery and wretchedness in social life is idleness. the want of something to do is what makes people wicked and miserable. it breeds selfishness, mischief-making, envy, jealousy and vice, in all its most dreadful forms. it is the duty of mothers to see that their daughters are trained to habits of industry, that their minds are at all times occupied, that they are well informed as to household duties, and to the duties of married life, for upon a knowledge of household details may depend their life-long happiness or misery. it is frequently the case, that a girl's education ends just as her mind is beginning to mature and her faculties are beginning to develop. her education ends when it ought properly to begin. she enters upon marriage entirely unprepared, and, perchance, by some misfortune, she is thrown penniless upon the world with no means of obtaining a livelihood, for her education has never fitted her for any vocation. not having been properly taught herself, she is not able to teach, and she finds no avenue of employment open to her. an english clergyman, writing upon this subject, says: "let girls take a serious interest in art; let them take up some congenial study, let it be a branch of science or history. let them write. they can do almost anything they try to do, but let their mothers never rest until they have implanted in their daughters' lives one growing interest beyond flirtation and gossip, whether it be work at the easel, music, literature, the structure of the human body and the laws of health, any solid interest that will occupy their thoughts and their hearts. idleness, frivolity and ignorance can only be put down by education and employment. in the last resort, the spirit of evil becomes teacher and task-master." women should cultivate a spirit of independence. in this country more than any other, women should, to some extent, cultivate a spirit of independence. they should acquire a knowledge of how business is transacted, of the relation between capital and labor, and of the value of labor, skilled and unskilled. as housekeepers, they would then be saved from many annoyances and mistakes. if they chance to be left alone, widows, or orphans possessing means, they would be saved from many losses and vexatious experiences by knowing how to transact their own business. and those women who are obliged to take care of themselves, who have no means, how necessary is it that they should have a thorough knowledge of some occupation or business by which they can maintain themselves and others dependent upon them. in this country, the daughter brought up in affluence, may, by some rapid change of fortune, be obliged, upon arriving at maturity, to be among the applicants for whatever employment she may be fitted. if she has been trained to some useful occupation, or if her faculties have been developed by a thoroughness of study of any subject she has undertaken, she will be better qualified to prepare herself to fill any position which may be open to her. with a mind drilled by constant study she will the more quickly acquire a knowledge and grasp the details of any subject or business to which she may devote herself. health and life dependent upon a higher culture. not only wealth and comfort, but health and life are dependent upon a higher form of culture, a more thorough course of education than is now the standard. not more, but fewer branches of study and a more thorough comprehension of those pursued. not only are the health and life of each woman dependent upon the kind and degree of the education she receives, but the health and lives of great numbers may depend upon it. in proportion as she has a knowledge of the laws and nature of a subject will she be able to work at it easily, rapidly and successfully. knowledge of physical laws saves health and life, knowledge of the laws of intellect saves wear and tear of the brain, knowledge of the laws of political economy and business affairs saves anxiety and worrying. cultivation of the moral sense. a well educated moral sense prevents idleness and develops a well regulated character, which will preserve from excess those tenderer emotions and deeper passions of woman, which are potent in her for evil or for good, in proportion as they are undisciplined and allowed to run wild, or are trained and developed into a noble and harmonious self-restraint. the girl who has so educated and regulated her intellect, her tastes, her emotions and her moral sense, as to be able to discern the true from the false, will be ready for the faithful performance of whatever work in life is allotted to her; while she who is allowed to grow up ignorant, idle, vain, frivolous, will find herself fitted for no state of existence, and, in after years, with feelings of remorse and despair over a wasted life, may cast reproach upon those in whose trust was reposed her early education. it is not for women alone that they should seek a higher education of their faculties and powers but for the sake of the communities in which they live, for the sake of the homes in which they rule and govern, and govern immortal souls, and for the sake of those other homes in the humbler walks of life, where they owe duties as ministering spirits as well as in their own, for in proportion as they minister to the comfort and health of others, so do they exalt their own souls. women should seek a higher education in order that they may elevate themselves, and that they may prepare themselves for whatever duty they may be called upon to perform. in social life we find that the truest wives, the most patient and careful mothers, the most exemplary housekeepers, the model sisters, the wisest philanthropists and the women of the greatest social influence are women of cultivated minds. chapter xxii. the art of letter writing. a french writer says, that the writing a note or letter, the wording of a regret, the prompt or the delayed answering of an invitation, the manner of a salutation, the neglect of a required attention, all betray to the well-bred the degree or the absence of good-breeding. a person who has self-respect as well as respect for others, should never carelessly write a letter or note. requirements for correct writing. the letter or note should be free from all flourishes. the rules of punctuation should be followed as nearly as possible, and no capital letters used where they are not required. ink-blots, erasures, and stains on the paper are inadmissible. any abbreviations of name, rank or title are considered rude, beyond those sanctioned by custom. no abbreviations of words should be indulged in, nor underlining of words intended to be made emphatic. all amounts of money or other numbers should be written, reserving the use of numerical figures for dates only. it is a good form to have the address of the writer printed at the top of the sheet, especially for all business letters. for letters of friendship and notes, pure white paper and envelopes are in better taste than tinted or colored, and the paper should be of a superior quality. when a page is once written from left to right side, it should not be written over again from top to bottom. anonymous letters. no attention should ever be paid to anonymous letters. the writers of such stamp themselves as cowardly, and cowards do not hesitate to say or write what is not true when it suits their purpose. all statements made in such letters should be regarded as false, and the writers as actuated by some bad motives. anonymous letters should be burned at once, for they are not to be noticed. letters and notes. the writing of notes in the third person is generally confined to notes of invitation, and such notes are never signed. when a letter is upon business, commencing "sir" or "dear sir," the name of the person addressed may be written either at the beginning or at the close of the letter, in the left hand corner. in letters commencing with the name of the person to whom you are writing, as, "my dear mrs. brown," the name should not be repeated in the left hand corner. no notes should be commenced very high or very low on the page, but nearer the top than the middle of the sheet. manner of address. in addressing a clergyman, it is customary to commence "reverend sir," or "dear sir." it is not now customary to write "b.a." or "m.a." after his name. doctors of divinity and medicine are thus distinguished: "to the rev. john blair, d.d.," or "rev. dr. blair;" "to g.t. roscoe, m.d.," "doctor roscoe" or "dr. roscoe." the president of the united states and governors of states, are addressed "his excellency." u.s. senators, members of congress and men distinguished by holding various political offices of an honorable nature, are addressed as "honorable." the superscription or address should be written upon the envelope as legibly as possible, beginning a little to the left of the center of the envelope. the number of the house and name of the street may be written immediately under this line, or in the lower left hand corner, as the writer sees fit. the postage stamp should be securely fixed in the upper right hand corner of the envelope. the following forms will show the appearance of a properly addressed envelope: [illustration: _thos. y. stevens, esq._ _chicago,_ _ ashland ave._ _ills._] [illustration: stamp _mr. thos. y. stevens,_ _ ashland avenue,_ _chicago,_ _ills._] [illustration: stamp _wm. b. houston esq.,_ _wooster,_ _wayne county._ _ohio._] in sending a letter in care of another person the following form is the manner in which the envelope should be addressed: [illustration: stamp _mrs. s.m. thomas,_ _care of_ _st. louis,_ _h.h. johnson_ _mo._] in sending a letter by a friend or acquaintance, and not through the mail, acknowledge the courtesy of your friend on the envelope. the letter should not be sealed. the following is the proper form: [illustration: _mrs. julia c. wheeler,_ _ simson street,_ _kindness (or politeness) of_ _dayton,_ _james steinfield._ _ohio._] a note or letter sent to a friend residing in the same place, by a messenger, may be addressed as follows, or bear the full address: [illustration: _miss mary wyman,_ _presented._] form of a letter. [illustration: _denver, may , ._ _my esteemed friend:_ _i received your very good letter, and hasten to reply. i am overjoyed at the prospects of a speedy return to the ancient, but delightful "city of the straits," and anticipate spending a pleasant summer with you and my many friends. we are making preparations to leave june th._ _your old friend,_ _joe j. wilson_ _geo. w. smyth,_ _detroit, mich._] degrees of formality observed. in commencing and signing notes and letters there is a difference of opinion in the degrees of formality to be observed, but generally this scale is used according to the degree of acquaintance or friendship. "madam" or "sir," "dear madam" or "dear sir," "my dear madam" or "my dear sir," "dear mrs. brown" or "dear mr. brown," "my dear mrs. brown" or "my dear mr. brown," "my dear friend." in closing a note, the degrees are implied as follows: "truly yours" or "yours truly," "very truly yours," "sincerely yours," "cordially yours," "faithfully yours," "affectionately yours." the proper words should be carefully selected, as the conclusion of a note or letter makes an impression on the person reading it. to aged persons the form, "with great respect, sincerely yours," recommends itself as a proper form. "yours, etc.," is considered a rude ending. if you are sufficiently well acquainted with a person to address her "my dear mrs. ----," do not sign "yours truly," or "truly yours," as this is the form to be used in writing to strangers or in business letters. signature of ladies. a married lady should not sign herself with the "mrs." before her baptismal name, or a single lady with the "miss." in writing to strangers who do not know whether to address you as mrs. or miss, the address should be given in full, after signing your letter; as "mrs. john smith," followed by the direction; or if unmarried, the "miss" should be placed in brackets a short distance preceding the signature. only the letters of unmarried ladies and widows are addressed with their baptismal names. the letters of married ladies are addressed with their husbands' names, as "mrs. john smith." letters of introduction. letters of introduction should be brief and carefully worded. give in full the name of the person introduced, the city or town he is from, intimating the mutual pleasure that you believe the acquaintance will confer, adding a few remarks concerning the one introduced, as circumstances seem to require. modest persons sometimes shrink from delivering letters of introduction which appear to them to be undeservedly complimentary. letters of introduction are left unsealed, to be sealed before delivery by the one introduced. they should receive immediate attention by the parties who receive them. when a gentleman delivers such a letter to a lady, he is at liberty to call upon her, sending her his card to ascertain whether she will receive him then, or appoint another hour that will be more convenient. the same rule is to be observed by those whose stay in the city is short. he may also send it to her with his card bearing his address. a letter of introduction should not be given, unless the person writing it is very well acquainted with the one whom he introduces, and the one to whom he writes. if the person who receives such a letter is really well-bred, you will hear from him or her within twenty-four hours, for a letter of introduction is said to be like a draft, it must be cashed at sight. the one receiving it either invites you to dine, or to meet others, or to a drive, or to visit some place of amusement. too great caution cannot be exercised in giving a letter which makes such demands upon an acquaintance. when the letter of introduction is left with a card, if there is a gentleman in the family, he may call upon the stranger the next day, unless some engagement prevents, when he should send his card with an invitation. if the letter introduces a gentleman to a lady, she may write a note of invitation in answer, appointing a time for him to call. the following is an appropriate form for a letter of introduction. [illustration] [illustration: _new york, dec , ._ _dear sir:_ _i take great pleasure in introducing to you my esteemed friend, miss ida a thornton, a young lady of culture and refinement, who will spend a few months in your city. i am sure that an acquaintance with her will be a pleasure to you, as it will also be to miss thornton. any favor you may show her during her stay in your city, i will consider a personal favor._ _yours sincerely,_ _mrs. j.q.a. jones._ _to geo. morris,_ _chicago._] the envelope containing a letter of introduction, should be addressed as follows: [illustration: _geo. morris, esq._ _ jackson street,_ _chicago,_ _introducing_ _ill._ _miss ida a. thornton._] notes of congratulation or condolence. notes of congratulation and condolence should be brief, and the letter should only be sent by near and intimate friends. do not allude to any subject except the one for which you are offering your congratulations or sympathy. such notes should be made expressive of real feeling, and not be mere matters of form. invitation to a reception. for a general reception, invitations are printed on cards. their style is like the following, and do not require an answer unless "r.s.v.p." is upon one corner. [illustration: _mrs. j.l. ashton,_ _at home,_ _wednesday evening, jan. ,_ _no. james st_ _ to p.m._] invitation to a ball. the "at home" form of invitation for a reception is often adopted for a ball with the word "dancing" in one corner, though many people use the "at home" form only for receptions. for balls the hours are not limited as at receptions. when the above form is not used for a ball, the invitation may read as follows: "mrs. blair requests the pleasure of miss milton's company at a ball, on tuesday, february , at o'clock." invitations to a ball are always given in the name of the lady of the house, and require an answer, which should not be delayed. if the invitation is accepted, the answer should be as follows: "miss milton accepts with pleasure mrs. blair's kind invitation for tuesday, february ." if it is found impossible to attend, a note of regrets, something like the following, should be sent: "miss milton regrets that intended absence from home (or whatever may be the preventing cause) prevents her accepting mrs. blair's kind invitation for february ." invitation to a large party. the invitation to a large party is similar to that for a ball, only the words "at a ball" are omitted, and the hour may be earlier. the notes of acceptance and regret are the same as for a ball. if the party is a small one, it should be indicated by inserting the words, "to a small evening party," so that there may be no misunderstanding. a large party calls for full evening dress, and it would be embarrassing for a lady or gentleman to go to a house in full evening dress, expecting to find a large party there in similar costumes, and meet only a few friends and acquaintances plainly dressed. if there is any special feature which is to give character to the evening, it is best to mention this fact in the note of invitation. thus the words "musical party," "to take part in dramatic readings," "amateur theatricals," will denote the character of the evening's entertainment. if you have programmes, enclose one in the invitation. invitation to a public entertainment. an invitation from a gentleman to a lady to attend a concert, lecture, theatre, opera or other amusement, may read as follows: "mr. hayden would be pleased to have miss morton's company to the academy of music, on monday evening, november , when 'richelieu' will be played by edwin booth's company." an invitation of this kind demands an immediate answer of acceptance or regrets. a previous engagement may be a reason for rejection. dinner invitations. these are written in the name of the husband and wife, and demand an immediate reply. this form may be used: "mr. and mrs. eugene snow request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. horace allen's company at dinner, on tuesday, the th of january, at o'clock." a note of acceptance may read as follows: "mr. and mrs. horace allen accept with pleasure mr. and mrs. eugene snow's kind invitation to dine with them on tuesday, the th inst., at o'clock." a note of regret may read: "mr. and mrs. horace allen regret exceedingly that sickness in the family (or whatever the cause may be) prevents the acceptance of mr. and mrs. eugene snow's kind invitation to dine with them on tuesday, january th." invitations to tea. an invitation to a tea-drinking may be less formal and should partake more of the nature of a private note; thus: "dear miss brock: some friends are coming to drink tea with me on thursday, and i should be glad of the pleasure of your company also. please do not disappoint me." an invitation of this informal nature needs no reply, unless "r.s.v.p." is appended, in which case the answer must be returned, if possible, by the messenger who brought it, or sent at once, as your friend may depend upon having a certain number of people at her tea-drinking, and if you cannot go, she will want to supply your place. less formal invitations. invitations of a less formal character are sent for charades, private theatricals, and for archery, croquet, sailing and garden parties; but, however informal the invitation (except only when a visiting card is used) on no account neglect to give immediate attention to it, by sending an acceptance or a regret, for any want of courtesy in this respect is unpardonable. promptness in answering. all invitations requiring answers should be answered as soon as possible after receiving them. the french have a saying, applicable to all notes of invitation, to the effect that it is as important to reply as promptly to a note requiring an answer, as it is to a question in speaking. all refined people who are accustomed to the best social forms, consider that it would be an unpardonable negligence to omit for a single day replying to an invitation or a note requiring a reply. in accepting dinner invitations, repeat the hour and day named in your letter of acceptance, in order that if any mistake has been made it may be corrected. promptly acknowledge all attentions you receive, such as receiving presents of books, flowers, etc. expressions to be used. the expression "presents compliments" has become obsolete in the writing of invitations. the expression "kind" or "very kind" invitation has taken the place of "polite," in notes of acceptance or regret. be particular to distinguish between "go" and "come," you go to a friend's house and your friend comes to your house. time to send invitations. invitations for parties and entertainments of a formal nature, can be sent out for a week or two weeks before the entertainment is to take place. a notice of not less than one week is expected for such invitations. they should be printed or engraved on small note paper or large cards, with the envelopes to match, with no colors in the monogram, if one is used. invitations for several members of a family. it is not considered good form to have one card of invitation answer for several persons belonging to the same family, or to address an invitation "mrs. blank and family," as it indicates a scarcity of cards. one card or invitation may be sent to mr. and mrs. blank, and one each to the several members of the family who are to be invited. the least formal invitations. the least formal, of formal invitations, is when a lady sends or leaves her own visiting card with the invitation upon it. an invitation of this kind need not be answered unless an "r.s.v.p." (_respondez s'il vous plait_), is on the card. you go or not, as you please, but if you do not go, you call, or leave a card as soon after as is convenient. uncivil answers. uncivil and curt, not to say rude, answers are sometimes returned to invitations, more frequently the result of carelessness in their writers than of premeditated rudeness. "mr. and mrs. adam brown regret that they cannot accept mrs. smith's invitation for wednesday evening," is a rude form of regret. "mr. and mrs. adam brown decline mrs. moses smith's invitation for friday evening," is a still ruder form. a curt and thoughtless reply is: "mr. and mrs. adam brown's compliments and regrets for friday evening." reasons for regrets. "all regrets from persons who are not able to accept invitations, should contain a reason for regretting," is a rule strictly observed in our best society, and is considered especially binding in answering a first invitation. if persons are in mourning, they regret that a recent bereavement prevents them from accepting. those contemplating being absent from home, regret that contemplated absence from home prevents them from accepting. "a previous engagement" is made the excuse when there is an engagement either at home or away from it, and also when one has no inclination to accept; which makes it quite necessary for those who really regret their inability to accept, to mention what that engagement is. the family letter. it seems hardly necessary to give the form of a letter from one member of a family to another. it is often the case that letters sent from home to an absent member are decidedly unsatisfactory, if not to a great extent of little interest outside of one or two facts mentioned. consequently some hint as to what those letters should be, are here given. they should be written as though the writer were talking, using familiar expressions, and such peculiarities as the writer possesses in ordinary speech should find a place in the letter. the writer may speak of many trivial things at and about home, and gossipy matters in the neighborhood, and should keep the absent one posted upon all minor facts and occurrences, as well as the more important ones. the writer may make inquiries as to how the absent one is enjoying himself, whether he finds any place better than home, and ask such other questions as he may desire, concluding with sincere expressions of affection from various members of the family. the absent one may, in like manner, express himself freely on all subjects, describe his journey minutely, and speak of whatever he may feel deep interest in. in short, a family letter may be as gossipy as the writer can make it, without much regard to an attempt at showy or dignified composition. the letter of friendship. this should be of a more dignified tone, contain less trivialities than the family letter, and should embrace matters that will be of interest to both. a letter of friendship should be answered in due time, according to the intimacy of the parties, but should not be delayed long enough to allow the friendship to cool, if there is a desire to keep it warm. the love letter. of this it may be only said, that while it may be expressive of sincere esteem and affection, it should be of a dignified tone, and written in such a style, that if it should ever come under the eyes of others than the party to whom it was written, there may be found in it nothing of which the writer may be ashamed, either of silliness or of extravagant expression. business letters. these should be brief and to the point, should be of plain chirography, and relate to the business in hand, in as few words and as clearly as possible. begin at once without apology or explanation, and finish up the matter pertaining to the business. if an apology or explanation is due, it may be made briefly at the close of the letter, after the business has been attended to. a letter on business should be answered at once, or as soon as possible after receiving it. it is allowable, in some cases, upon receiving a brief business letter, to write the reply on the same page, beneath the original letter, and return both letter and answer together. among business letters may be classed all correspondence relating to business, applications for situations, testimonials regarding the character of a servant or employe, letters requesting the loan of money or an article, and letters granting or denying the favor; while all forms of drawing up notes, drafts and receipts may properly be included. the forms of some of these are here given. letters requesting employment. a letter of this kind should be short, and written with care and neatness, that the writer may both show his penmanship and his business-like qualities, which are often judged of by the form of his letter. it may be after this fashion: new york, march , . messrs. lord & noble, dear sirs: having heard that you are in need of more assistance in your establishment (or store, office) i venture to ask you for employment. i can refer you to messrs. jones & smith, my late employers, as to my qualifications, should you decide to consider my application. yours truly, james roberts. letters regarding the character of a servant. dear madam: sarah riley, having applied to me for the position of cook, refers me to you for a character. i feel particularly anxious to obtain a good servant for the coming winter, and shall therefore feel obliged by your making me acquainted with any particulars referring to her character, and remain, madam, your very obedient servant, mrs. george stone. to mrs. alfred stark. mrs. george stone, dear madam: it gives me pleasure to say that sarah riley lived with me for two years, and during that time i found her active, diligent and efficient. she is a superior cook, and i have full confidence in her honesty. i feel that i can recommend her with full confidence of her being likely to give you satisfaction. i am, madam, your very obedient servant, mrs. alfred stark. mrs. george stone, dear madam: in replying to your note of inquiry, i beg to inform you that sarah riley, who lived with me in the capacity of cook, left my services because i did not find her temper and habits in all respects satisfactory. she was thoroughly competent as a cook, but in other respects i cannot conscientiously recommend her. i remain, yours, very truly, mrs. alfred stark. notes, drafts, bills and receipts. the following are forms of notes, drafts, receipts, etc.: _promissory note without interest._ $ . cincinnati, o., june , . sixty days after date, i promise to pay samuel archover, or order, at my office in cincinnati, five hundred dollars, value received. timothy mortgrave. _promissory note with interest but not negotiable._ $ . . chicago, sept. , . for value received, i promise to pay daniel cartright one hundred and twenty-five dollars and thirty cents, on august th next, with interest at seven per cent. after january , . john s. allbright. _a negotiable note payable to bearer._ $ . detroit, mich., oct. , . thirty days after date, for value received, i promise to pay silas g. smithers, or bearer, at my office in detroit, seventy-five dollars with interest from date. samuel q. pettibone. _form of a receipt._ $ . new york, nov. , . received from james o. mitchell, twenty-five dollars, to apply on account. smith, jones & co. _form of a draft, time from sight._ $ , . detroit, mich., july , . at ten days sight, pay to the order of j. smith & co., one thousand dollars, and charge the same to the account of shepard & niles to samuel stoker & co., indianapolis, ind. _a draft or order "without grace."_ $ . cincinnati, ohio, aug. , . at sight, without grace, pay to f. b. dickerson & co., one hundred and seventy-five dollars, and charge to the account of h.s. morehouse. to traders' national bank, cincinnati, ohio. _form of a bill._ buffalo, n.y., dec. , . martin hughes, dr. to john j. hart. four volumes history of france, at $ . per volume, $ . . received payment. [illustration] chapter xxiii. general rules of conduct. in society, everybody should receive equal attention, the young as well as the old. a high authority says, "if we wish our young people to grow up self-possessed and at ease, we must early train them in those graces by giving them the same attention and consideration we do those of maturer years. if we snub them, and systematically neglect them, they will acquire an awkwardness and a deprecatory manner, which will be very difficult for them to overcome." gracefulness of carriage. physical education is indispensable to every well-bred man and woman. a gentleman should not only know how to fence, to box, to ride, to shoot and to swim, but he should also know how to carry himself gracefully, and how to dance, if he would enjoy life to the utmost. a graceful carriage can best be attained by the aid of a drilling master, as dancing and boxing are taught. a man should be able to defend himself from ruffians, if attacked, and also to defend women from their insults. dancing and calisthenics are also essential for a lady, for the better the physical training, the more graceful and self-possessed she will be. every lady should know how to dance, whether she intends to dance in society or not. swimming, skating, archery, games of lawn-tennis, and croquet, riding and driving, all aid in strengthening the muscles and giving open air exercise, and are therefore desirable recreations for the young of both sexes. attitude. awkwardness of attitude is a mark of vulgarity. lolling, gesticulating, fidgeting, handling an eye-glass, a watch-chain or the like, gives an air of _gaucherie_. a lady who sits cross-legged or sidewise on her chair, who stretches out her feet, who has a habit of holding her chin, or twirling her ribbons or fingering her buttons; a man who lounges in his chair, nurses his leg, bites his nails, or caresses his foot crossed over on his knee, shows clearly a want of good home training. each should be quiet and graceful, either in their sitting or standing position, the gentleman being allowed more freedom than the lady. he may sit cross-legged if he wishes, but should not sit with his knees far apart, nor with his foot on his knee. if an object is to be indicated, you must move the whole hand, or the head, but never point the finger. coughing, sneezing, etc. coughing, sneezing, clearing the throat, etc., if done at all, must be done as quickly as possible. snuffing, hawking and expectorating must never be done in society. a sneeze can be checked by pressing the thumb or fingers firmly across the bridge of the nose. if not checked, the face should be buried in the handkerchief, during the act of sneezing, for obvious reasons. anecdotes, puns and repartees. anecdotes should be seldom brought into a conversation. puns are always regarded as vulgar. repartee should be indulged in with moderation, and never kept up, as it degenerates into the vulgarity of an altercation. a sweet and pure breath. the breath should be kept sweet and pure. onions are the forbidden fruit, because of their offensiveness to the breath. no gentleman should go into the presence of ladies smelling of tobacco. smoking. it is neither respectful nor polite to smoke in the presence of ladies, even though they have given permission, nor should a gentleman smoke in a room which ladies are in the habit of frequenting. in those homes when the husband is permitted to smoke in any room of the house, the sons will follow the father's example, and the air of the rooms becomes like that of a public house. suppression of emotion. suppression of undue emotion, whether of laughter, of anger, or of mortification, of disappointment, or of selfishness in any form, is a mark of good breeding. a good listener. to be a good listener is almost as great an art as to be a good talker; but it is not enough only to listen, you must endeavor to seem interested in the conversation of those who are talking. only the low-bred allow their impatience to be manifest. give precedence to others. give precedence to those older or of higher social position than yourself, unless they required you to take the precedence, when it is better to obey than to refuse. be more careful to give others their rank of precedence than to take your own. be moderate. always express your own opinions with modesty, and, if called upon, defend them, but without that warmth which may lead to hard feelings. do not enter into argument. having spoken your mind, and thus shown you are not cowardly in your beliefs and opinions, drop the subject and lead to some other topic. there is seldom any profit in idle discussion. singing and playing in society. a lady in company should never exhibit any anxiety to sing or play: but being requested to do so, if she intends to comply, she should do so at once, without waiting to be urged. if she refuses, she should do so in a manner that shall make her decision final. having complied, she should not monopolize the evening with her performances, but make room for others. receiving and making presents. emerson says: "our tokens of love are for the most part barbarous, cold and lifeless, because they do not represent our life. the only gift is a portion of thyself. therefore let the farmer give his corn; the miner his gem; the sailor coral or shells; the painter his picture, and the poet his poem." to persons of refined nature, whatever the friend creates takes added value as part of themselves--part of their lives, as it were, having gone into it. people of the highest rank, abroad, will often accept, with gratitude, a bit of embroidery done by a friend, a poem inscribed to them by an author; a painting executed by some artist; who would not care for the most expensive bauble that was offered them. mere costliness does not constitute the soul of a present; it is the kind feeling that it manifests which gives it its value. people who possess noble natures do not make gifts where they feel neither affection nor respect, but their gifts are bestowed out of the fullness of kind hearts. a present should be acknowledged without delay, but you must not follow it quickly by a return. it is to be taken for granted that a gift is intended to afford pleasure to the recipient, not to be regarded as a question of investment or exchange. never allude to a present you have given, unless you have reason to believe that it has not been received by the person to whom it was sent. unmarried ladies should not accept presents from gentlemen who are neither related nor engaged to them, nor indebted to them for some marked favors. a married lady may accept presents from a gentleman who is indebted to her for hospitality. in presenting a book to a friend, do not write in it the name of the person to whom it is given. but this is a rule better honored in its breach than in its observance, when the giver of the book is its author. presents made by a married lady to a gentleman, should be in the name of both herself and her husband. never refuse a present if offered in kindness, unless the circumstances are such that you cannot, with propriety, receive it. nor, in receiving a present, make such comments as would seem to indicate that your friend cannot afford to make the present. on the other hand, never make a present which you cannot afford to make. in that case the recipient, if he or she knows anything of your circumstances, will think that you had better kept it yourself. governing our moods. we should subdue our gloomy moods before we enter society. to look pleasantly and to speak kindly is a duty we owe to others. neither should we afflict them with any dismal account of our health, state of mind or outward circumstances. nevertheless, if another makes us the confidant of his woes, we should strive to appear sympathetic, and if possible help him to be stronger under them. a lady who shows by act, or expresses in plain, curt words, that the visit of another is unwelcome, may perhaps pride herself upon being no hypocrite. but she is, in reality, worse. she is grossly selfish. courtesy requires her, for the time being, to forget her own feelings, and remember those of her visitor, and thus it is her duty to make that visitor happy while she remains. a lady driving with a gentleman. when a lady offers to drive a gentleman in her phaeton, he should walk to her house, if he accepts the invitation, unless, the distance being great, she should propose to call for him. in that case he will be on the watch, so as not to keep her waiting, and, if possible, meet her on the way. an invitation cannot be recalled. an invitation, once given, cannot be recalled, even from the best motives, without subjecting the one who recalls it to the charge of being either ignorant or regardless of all conventional rules of politeness. there is but one exception to this rule, and that is when the invitation has been delivered to the wrong person. avoid talking of personalities. avoid speaking of your birth, your travels and of all personal matters, to those who may misunderstand you, and consider it boasting. when induced to speak of them, do not dwell too long upon them, and do not speak boastfully. about persons' names. do not speak of absent persons, who are not relatives or intimate friends, by their christian names or surnames, but always as mr. ----, or mrs. ----, or miss ----. never name anyone by the first letter of his name, as "mr. c." give a foreigner his name in full when speaking of him. shun gossip and tale-bearing. gossip and tale-bearing are always a personal confession either of malice or imbecility. the young of both sexes should not only shun these things, but, by the most thorough culture, relieve themselves from all temptation in that direction. removing the hat. a gentleman never sits in the house with his hat on in the presence of ladies. indeed, a gentleman instinctively removes his hat as soon as he enters a room, the habitual resort of ladies. a gentleman never retains his hat in a theatre or other place of public entertainment. treatment of inferiors. never affect superiority. in the company of an inferior never let him feel his inferiority. if you invite an inferior as your guest, treat him with all the politeness and consideration you would show an equal. intruding on privacy. never enter a private room anywhere without knocking. sacredly respect the private property of others, and let no curiosity tempt you to pry into letters, desks, packets, trunks, or other belongings of another. it is ill-mannered to read a written paper lying upon a table or desk; whatever it may be, it is certainly no business of yours. no person should ever look over the shoulder of another who is reading or writing. you must not question a servant or child upon family affairs. never betray an implied confidence, even if you have not been bound to secrecy. keeping engagements. nothing is more rude than to make an engagement, be it of business or pleasure, and break it. if your memory is not sufficiently retentive to keep all the engagements you make, carry a little memorandum book, and enter them there. value of politeness. chesterfield says: "as learning, honor and virtue are absolutely necessary to gain you the esteem and admiration of mankind, politeness and good-breeding are equally necessary to make you welcome and agreeable in conversation and common life. great talents, such as honor, virtue, learning and arts, are above the generality of the world, who neither possess them themselves, nor judge of them rightly in others; but all people are judges of the lesser talents, such as civility, affability, and an obliging, agreeable address and manner; because they feel the good effects of them, as making society easy and pleasing." adapting yourself to others. conform your conduct as far as possible to the company you chance to be with, only do not throw yourself into improper company. it is better even to laugh at and join in with vulgarity, so that it do not degenerate into indecency, than to set yourself up as better, and better-mannered than those with whom you may chance to be associated. true politeness and genuine good manners often not only permit but absolutely demand a temporary violation of the ordinary obligations of etiquette. a woman's good name. let no man speak a word against a woman at any time, or mention a woman's name in any company where it should not be spoken. "civility," says lord chesterfield, "is particularly due to all women; and remember that no provocation whatsoever can justify any man in not being civil to every woman; and the greatest man would justly be reckoned a brute if he were not civil to the meanest woman. it is due to their sex, and is the only protection they have against the superior strength of ours." do not contradict. never directly contradict anyone. say, "i beg your pardon, but i think you are mistaken or misinformed," or some such similar phrase which shall break the weight of direct contradiction. where the matter is unimportant it is better to let it pass without correction. expressing unfavorable opinions. you should be exceedingly cautious about expressing an unfavorable opinion relative to a young lady to a young man who appears to be attracted by, and attentive to her. if they should marry, the remembrance of your observations will not be pleasurable to yourself nor the married parties. a conversation checked. if a person checks himself in a conversation, you should not insist on hearing what he intended to say. there is some good reason for checking himself, and it might cause him unpleasant feelings to urge him to carry out his first intentions. vulgarities. some of the acts which may be classed as vulgarities when committed in the presence of others are given: to sit with your back to a person, without asking to be excused. to stand or sit with the feet wide apart. to hum, whistle or sing in suppressed tones. to stand with the arms akimbo; to lounge or yawn, or to do anything which shows disrespect, selfishness or indifference. to correct inaccuracies in the statements of others, or their modes of speech. to use profane language, or stronger expression than the occasion justifies. to chew tobacco and its unnecessary accompaniment, spitting, are vulgar in the extreme. miscellaneous rules. a gentleman precedes a lady passing through a crowd; ladies precede gentlemen under ordinary circumstances. give your children, unless married, their christian names only, or say "my daughter" or "my son," in speaking of them to any one except servants. ladies in escorting each other, never offer to take the arm. acknowledge an invitation to stop with a friend, or any unusual attention without delay. never boast of birth, money or friends, or of any superior advantages you may possess. never ridicule others, be the object of your ridicule present or absent. always show respect for the religious opinions and observances of others, no matter how much they may differ from your own. you should never scratch your head, pick your teeth, clean your nails or pick your nose in company. never lean your head against the wall, as you may disgust your wife or hostess by soiling the paper of her room. never slam a door or stamp noisily on entering a room. always be punctual. you have no right to waste the time of others by making them wait for you. always hand a chair for a lady, pick up her glove and perform any little service she may seem to require. never attract attention to yourself by talking or laughing loudly in public gatherings. keep yourself quiet and composed under all circumstances. do not get fidgety. if you feel that time drags heavily, do not let this be apparent to others by any visible sign of uneasiness. refrain from absent-mindedness in the presence of others. you pay them a poor compliment if you thus forget them. never refuse to accept an apology for an offense, and never hesitate to make one, if one is due from you. never answer another rudely or impatiently. reply courteously, at whatever inconvenience to yourself. never intrude upon a business man or woman in business hours unless you wish to see them on business. never engage a person in private conversation in presence of others, nor make any mysterious allusions which no one else understands. on entering a room, bow slightly as a general salutation, before speaking to each of the persons assembled. do not seem to notice by word or glance, the deformity of another. to administer reproof to anyone in the presence of others is very impolite. to scold at any time is unwise. never undertake a commission for a friend and neglect to perform it. never play a practical joke upon anyone, or answer a serious remark by a flippant one. never lend a borrowed book, and never keep such a book a single day after you are done with it. never pass between two persons who are talking together; and never pass before persons when it is possible to pass behind them. when such an act is absolutely necessary, always apologize for so doing. "never speak of a man's virtues before his face, or his faults behind his back," is a maxim to be remembered. another maxim is, "in private watch your thoughts; in your family watch your temper; in society watch your tongue." never address a mere acquaintance by his or her christian name. it is a presumption at which the acquaintance may take offense. haughtiness and contempt are among the habits to be avoided. the best way is to deal courteously with the rude as well as with the courteous. in the presence of others, talk as little of yourself as possible, or of the business or profession in which you are engaged. it shows a want of courtesy to consult your watch, either at home or abroad. if at home, it appears as though you were tired of your company, and wished them to be gone. if abroad, it appears as though the hours dragged heavily, and you were calculating how soon you would be released. do not touch or handle any of the ornaments in the house where you visit. they are intended to be admired, not handled by visitors. do not read in company. a gentleman or lady may, however, look over a book of engravings or a collection of photographs with propriety. every species of affectation should be avoided, as it is always detected, and exceedingly disagreeable. washington's maxims. mr. sparks, in his biography of washington, has given to the public a collection of washington's directions as to personal conduct, which he called his "rules of civility and decent behavior in company." we give these rules entire, as the reader may be interested in learning the principles which governed the conduct of the "father of his country." every action in company ought to be with some sign of respect to those present. in the presence of others sing not to yourself with a humming voice, nor drum with your fingers or feet. speak not when others speak, sit not when others stand, and walk not when others stop. turn not your back to others, especially in speaking; jog not the table or desk on which another reads or writes; lean not on anyone. be no flatterer, neither play with anyone that delights not to be played with. read no letters, books or papers in company; but when there is a necessity for doing it, you must not leave. come not near the books or writings of anyone so as to read them unasked; also look not nigh when another is writing a letter. let your countenance be pleasant, but in serious matters somewhat grave. show not yourself glad at the misfortune of another, though he were your enemy. they that are in dignity or office have in all places precedency, but whilst they are young, they ought to respect those that are their equals in birth or other qualities, though they have no public charge. it is good manners to prefer them to whom we speak before ourselves, especially if they be above us. let your discourse with men of business be short and comprehensive. in visiting the sick do not presently play the physician if you be not knowing therein. in writing or speaking, give to every person his due title according to his degree and the custom of the place. strive not with your superiors in argument, but always submit your judgment to others with modesty. undertake not to teach your equal in the art he himself professes; it savors arrogancy. when a man does all he can though it succeeds not well, blame not him that did it. being to advise or reprehend anyone, consider whether it ought to be in public or in private, presently or at some other time, also in what terms to do it; and in reproving show no signs of choler, but do it with sweetness and mildness. mock not nor jest at anything of importance; break no jests that are sharp or biting, and if you deliver anything witty or pleasant, abstain from laughing thereat yourself. wherein you reprove another be unblamable yourself, for example is more prevalent than precept. use no reproachful language against any one, neither curses or revilings. be not hasty to believe flying reports to the disparagement of anyone. in your apparel be modest, and endeavor to accommodate nature rather than procure admiration. keep to the fashion of your equals, such as are civil and orderly with respect to time and place. play not the peacock, looking everywhere about you to see if you be well decked, if your shoes fit well, if your stockings set neatly and clothes handsomely. associate yourself with men of good quality if you esteem your reputation, for it is better to be alone than in bad company. let your conversation be without malice or envy, for it is a sign of a tractable and commendable nature; and in all cases of passion admit reason to govern. be not immodest in urging your friend to discover a secret. utter not base and frivolous things amongst grown and learned men, nor very difficult questions or subjects amongst the ignorant, nor things hard to be believed. speak not of doleful things in time of mirth nor at the table; speak not of melancholy things, as death and wounds; and if others mention them, change, if you can, the discourse. tell not your dreams but to your intimate friends. break not a jest when none take pleasure in mirth. laugh not aloud, nor at all without occasion. deride no man's misfortunes, though there seem to be some cause. speak not injurious words, neither in jest nor earnest. scoff at none, although they give occasion. be not forward, but friendly and courteous, the first to salute, hear and answer, and be not pensive when it is time to converse. detract not from others, but neither be excessive in commending. go not thither where you know not whether you shall be welcome or not. give not advice without being asked; and when desired, do it briefly. if two contend together, take not the part of either unconstrained, and be not obstinate in your opinions; in things indifferent be of the major side. reprehend not the imperfection of others, for that belongs to parents, masters and superiors. gaze not on the marks or blemishes of others, and ask not how they came. what you may speak in secret to your friend deliver not before others. speak not in an unknown tongue in company, but in your own language; and that as those of quality do, and not as the vulgar. sublime matters treat seriously. think before you speak; pronounce not imperfectly, nor bring out your words too heartily, but orderly and distinctly. when another speaks, be attentive yourself, and disturb not the audience. if any hesitate in his words, help him not, nor prompt him without being desired; interrupt him not, nor answer him till his speech be ended. treat with men at fit times about business, and whisper not in the company of others. make no comparisons; and if any of the company be commended for any brave act of virtue, commend not another for the same. be not apt to relate news if you know not the truth thereof. in discoursing of things that you have heard, name not your author always. a secret discover not. be not curious to know the affairs of others, neither approach to those who speak in private. undertake not what you cannot perform; but be careful to keep your promise. when you deliver a matter, do it without passion and indiscretion, however mean the person may be you do it to. when your superiors talk to anybody, hear them; neither speak nor laugh. in disputes be not so desirous to overcome as not to give liberty to each one to deliver his opinion, and submit to the judgment of the major part, especially if they are judges of the dispute. be not tedious in discourse, make not many digressions, nor repeat often the same matter of discourse. speak no evil of the absent, for it is unjust. be not angry at table, whatever happens; and if you have reason to be so show it not; put on a cheerful countenance, especially if there be strangers, for good humor makes one dish a feast. set not yourself at the upper end of the table; but if it be your due, or the master of the house will have it so, contend not, lest you should trouble the company. when you speak of god or his attributes, let it be seriously, in reverence and honor, and obey your natural parents. let your recreations be manful, not sinful. labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire called conscience. chapter xxiv. anniversary weddings. the custom of celebrating anniversary weddings has, of late years, been largely practiced, and they have become a very pleasant means of social reunion among the relatives and friends of both husband and wife. often this is the only reason for celebrating them, and the occasion is sometimes taken advantage of to give a large party, of a more informal nature than could be given under other circumstances. the occasion becomes one of the memorable events in the life of the couple whose wedding anniversary is celebrated. it is an occasion for recalling the happy event which brought to each a new existence, and changed the current of their lives. it is an occasion for them to receive congratulations upon their past married life, and wishes for many additional years of wedded bliss. upon these occasions the married couple sometimes appear in the costumes worn by them on their wedding day, which they have preserved with punctilious care, and when many years have intervened the quaintness and oddity of the style of dress from the prevailing style is a matter of interest, and the occasion of pleasant comments. the couple receive their guests together, who upon entering the drawing-room, where they are receiving, extend to them their congratulations and wishes for continued prosperity and happiness. the various anniversaries are designated by special names, indicative of the presents suitable on each occasion, should guests deem it advisable to send presents. it may be here stated that it is entirely optional with parties invited as to whether any presents are sent or taken. at the earlier anniversaries, much pleasantry and amusement is occasioned by presenting unique and fantastic articles, gotten up for the occasion. when this is contemplated, care should be taken that they should not be such as are liable to give offense to a person of sensitive nature. the paper, cotton and leather wedding. the first anniversary of the wedding-day is called the paper wedding, the second the cotton wedding, and the third the leather wedding. the invitations to the first should be issued on a grey paper, representing thin cardboard. presents, if given should be solely articles made of paper. the invitations for the cotton wedding should be neatly printed on fine white cloth, and presents should be of articles of cotton cloth. for the leather wedding invitations should be issued upon leather, tastily gotten up, and presents, of course, should be articles made of leather. the wooden wedding. the wooden wedding is the fifth anniversary of the marriage. the invitations should be upon thin cards of wood, or they may be written on a sheet of wedding note paper, and a card of wood enclosed in the envelope. the presents suitable to this occasion are most numerous, and may range from a wooden paper knife or trifling article for kitchen use up to a complete set of parlor or kitchen furniture. the tin wedding. the tenth anniversary of the marriage is called the tin wedding. the invitations for this anniversary may be made upon cards covered with a tin card inclosed. the guests, if they desire to accompany their congratulations with appropriate presents, have the whole list of articles manufactured by the tinner's art from which to select. the crystal wedding. the crystal wedding is the fifteenth anniversary. invitations may be on thin, transparent paper, or colored sheets of prepared gelatine, or on ordinary wedding note-paper, enclosing a sheet of mica. the guests make their offerings to their host and hostess of trifles of glass, which may be more or less valuable, as the donor feels inclined. the china wedding. the china wedding occurs on the twentieth anniversary of the wedding-day. invitations should be issued on exceedingly fine, semi-transparent note-paper or cards. various articles for the dining or tea-table or for the toilet-stand, vases or mantel ornaments, all are appropriate on this occasion. the silver wedding. the silver wedding occurs on the twenty-fifth marriage anniversary. the invitations issued for this wedding should be upon the finest note-paper, printed in bright silver, with monogram or crest upon both paper and envelope, in silver also. if presents are offered by any of the guests, they should be of silver, and may be the merest trifles, or more expensive, as the means and inclinations of the donors incline. the golden wedding. the close of the fiftieth year of married life brings round the appropriate time for the golden wedding. fifty years of married happiness may indeed be crowned with gold. the invitations for this anniversary celebration should be printed on the finest note-paper in gold, with crest or monogram on both paper and envelopes in highly-burnished gold. the presents, if any are offered, are also in gold. the diamond wedding. rarely, indeed, is a diamond wedding celebrated. this should be held on the seventy-fifth anniversary of the marriage-day. so seldom are these occurrences that custom has sanctioned no particular style or form to be observed in the invitations. they might be issued upon diamond-shaped cards, enclosed in envelopes of a corresponding shape. there can be no general offering of presents at such a wedding, since diamonds in any number are beyond the means of most persons. presents at anniversary weddings. it is not, as before stated, required that an invitation to an anniversary wedding be acknowledged by a valuable gift, or indeed by any. the donors on such occasions are usually only members of the family or intimate friends, and may act at their own discretion in the matter of giving presents. on the occasion of golden or silver weddings, it is not amiss to have printed at the bottom of the invitation the words "no presents," or to enclose a card announcing-- "it is preferred that no wedding gifts be offered." invitations to anniversary weddings. the invitations to anniversary weddings may vary something in their wording, according to the fancy of the writer, but they are all similar. they should give the date of the marriage and the anniversary. they may or may not give the name of the husband at the right-hand side and the maiden name of the wife at the left. what the anniversary is should also be indicated. the following form will serve as a model: [illustration: = . the pleasure of your company is requested at the silver wedding reception of mr. and mrs. cyrus jennings, on thursday evening, november th at nine o'clock. jackson avenue. r.s.v.p.] a proper variation will make this form equally suitable for any of the other anniversary weddings. marriage ceremony at anniversary weddings. it is not unusual to have the marriage ceremony repeated at these anniversary weddings, especially at the silver or golden wedding. the earliest anniversaries are almost too trivial occasions upon which to introduce this ceremony. the clergyman who officiates may so change the exact words of the marriage ceremony as to render them appropriate to the occasion. chapter xxv. births and christenings. upon the announcement of the birth of a child, the lady friends of the mother send her their cards, with inquiries after her health. as soon as she is strong enough to permit, the mother returns her own card to all from whom she received cards and inquiries, with "thanks for kind inquiries." her lady friends then make personal visits, but gentlemen do not call upon the mother on these occasions. if they wish, they may pay their visits to the father, and inquire after the health of the mother and child. naming the child. it becomes an all-important matter to the parents, what name they shall give to the newly-born child, and as this is a matter which may also concern the latter at some future day, it becomes an object of solicitude, until a suitable name is settled upon. the custom in scotland is to name the first son after the father's father, and the first daughter after the mother's mother, the second son after the father, the second daughter after the mother, and succeeding children after other near relations. this perpetuates family names, and if they are persons whose names are regarded as worthy of perpetuation, it may be considered a good custom to follow. with some it is customary to name children after some renowned person, either living or dead. there are objections to this plan, however, for if the person be still living, he may commit some act which will bring opprobrium to his name, and so cause both the parent and child to be ashamed of bearing such a disgraced name. if the person after whom the child is named be dead, it may be that the child's character may be so entirely different from the person who formerly bore it, that the name shall be made a reproach or satire. the plan of reviving the old saxon names has been adopted by some, and it has been claimed that the names of edgar, edwin, arthur, alfred, ethel, maud, edith, theresa, and many others of the saxon names are pleasant sounding and strong, and a desirable contrast to the fannies, mamies, minnies, lizzies, sadies, and other petty diminutives which have taken the place of better sounding and stronger names. the christening. the christening and the baptism usually occur at the same time, and are regulated according to the practices of the special church where the parents attend worship. as these are quite varied, it will be sufficient only to indicate the forms and customs which society imposes at such times. godparents or sponsors. in the episcopal church there are two, and sometimes three, godparents or sponsors. if the child is a boy, there are two godfathers and one godmother. if a girl, two godmothers and one godfather. the persons selected for godparents should be near relatives or friends of long and close standing, and should be members of the same church into which the child is baptized. the maternal grandmother and paternal grandfather usually act as sponsors for the first child, the maternal grandfather and paternal grandmother for the second. a person invited to act as godparent should not refuse without good reason. if the grandparents are not selected, it is an act of courtesy to select the godmother, and allow her to designate the godfather. young persons should not stand sponsors to an infant; and none should offer to act unless their superior position warrants them in so doing. presents from godfathers. the sponsors must make their godchild a present of some sort--a silver mug, a knife, spoon and fork, a handsomely-bound bible, or perhaps a costly piece of lace or embroidery suitable for infants' wear. the godfather may give a cup, with name engraved, and the godmother the christening robe and cap. the christening ceremony. upon entering the church the babe is carried first in the arms of its nurse. next come the sponsors, and after them the father and mother, if she is able to be present. the invited guests follow. in taking their places the sponsors stand, the godfather on the right and the godmother on the left of the child. when the question is asked, "who are the sponsors for the child?" the proper persons should merely bow their heads without speaking. in the roman catholic church baptism takes place at as early a date as possible. if the child does not seem to be strong, a priest is sent for at once, and the ceremony is performed at the mother's bedside. if, on the other hand, the child is healthy, it is taken to the church within a few days after its birth. in protestant churches the ceremony of baptism is usually deferred until the mother is able to be present. if the ceremony is performed at home, a carriage must be sent for the clergyman, and retained to convey him back again after the ceremony is concluded. a luncheon may follow the christening, though a collation of cake and wine will fill all the requirements of etiquette. it is the duty of the godfather to propose the health of the infant. presents from guests. friends invited to a christening should remember the babe in whose honor they convene, by some trifling gift. gentlemen may present an article of silver, ladies something of their own manufacture. the hero of the occasion. it should be remembered that the baby is the person of the greatest importance on these occasions, and the guests should give it a large share of attention and praise. the parents, however, must not make this duty too onerous to their guests by keeping a tired, fretful child on exhibition. it is better to send it at once to the care of the nurse as soon as the ceremony is over. fees to the clergyman. though the church performs the ceremony of baptism gratuitously, the parents should, if they are able, make a present to the officiating clergyman, or, through him a donation to the poor of the neighborhood. [illustration] chapter xxvi. funerals. the saddest of all ceremonies is that attendant upon the death of relatives and friends, and it becomes us to show, in every possible way, the utmost consideration for the feelings of the bereaved, and the deepest respect for the melancholy occasion. of late the forms of ostentation at funerals are gradually diminishing, and by some people of intelligence, even mourning habiliments are rejected in whole or in part. invitation to a funeral. it is customary in cities to give the notice of death and announcement of a funeral through the daily newspapers, though sometimes when such announcement may not reach all friends in time, invitations to the funeral are sent to personal and family friends of the deceased. in villages where there is no daily paper, such invitations are often issued. private invitations are usually printed on fine small note paper, with a heavy black border, and in such form as the following: [illustration: _yourself and family are respectfully invited to attend the funeral of mr. james b. southey, from his late residence, no. williams avenue, on friday, october , at o' clock p.m. (or from st. paul's episcopal church), to proceed to woodland cemetery._] when an announcement of a death is sent to a friend or relative at a distant point, it is usual to telegraph or to write the notice of death, time and place of funeral, to allow the friend an opportunity to arrive before the services. it is a breach of good manners not to accept an invitation to a funeral, when one is sent. arrangements for the funeral. it is customary to trust the details of the arrangements for the funeral to some relative or friend of the family, and if there be no friend who can perform this duty, it can be safely left with the undertaker to perform the painful duties of master of ceremonies. it is prudent to name a limit for the expenses of the funeral, and the means of the family should always govern these. pomp and display should always be avoided, as they are out of keeping with the solemn occasion, and inconsistent with real grief. at the funeral some one should act as usher to seat the friends who attend. the house of mourning. upon entering the house of mourning, a gentleman should always remove his hat in the hall, and not replace it until he is about to depart. no calls of condolence should be made upon the bereaved family while the dead remains in the house, and members of the family may be excused from receiving any but their most intimate friends at that time. there should be no loud talking or confusion while the body remains in the house. all differences and quarrels must be forgotten in the house of mourning, and personal enemies who meet at a funeral must treat each other with respect and dignity. the bell knob or door handle is draped with black crape, with a black ribbon tied on, if the deceased is married or advanced in years, and with a white ribbon, if young or unmarried. the funeral services. if the services are held at the house, some near friend or relative will receive the guests. the immediate members of the family and near relatives should take a final view of the corpse just before the arrival of the guests, and should not make their appearance again until the services are about to commence. it is becoming customary now to reserve a room of the house adjoining that in which the services are held, for the exclusive use of the near relatives and members of the family during the services. then the clergyman takes his position at the door between the two rooms while conducting the services. as guests arrive, they are requested to take a last look at the corpse before seating themselves, and upon the conclusion of the services the coffin lid is closed, and the remains are borne to the hearse. the custom of opening the coffin at the church to allow all who attend to take a final look at the corpse, is rapidly coming into disfavor. the friends who desire it are requested to view the corpse at the house, before it is taken to the church. if, however, the deceased is a person of great prominence in the community, and the house is not able to accommodate the large numbers who desire to take a last look at the face of the deceased, then, perhaps, it may be well that the coffin should be opened at the church. the pall-bearers. the pall-bearers, usually six, but sometimes eight, when the deceased is a person of considerable prominence, are generally chosen from the intimate acquaintances of the deceased, and of nearly the same age. if they walk to the cemetery, they take their position in equal numbers on either side of the hearse. if they ride, their carriage or carriages precede the hearse. order of the procession. the carriages containing the clergyman and pall-bearers precede the hearse, immediately following which are the carriages of the nearest relatives, more distant relatives and friends respectively. when societies or masonic bodies take part in the procession they precede the hearse. the horse of a deceased mounted military officer, fully equipped and draped in mourning, will be led immediately after the hearse. as the mourners pass out to enter the carriage, the guests stand with uncovered heads. no salutations are given or received. the person who officiates as master of ceremonies, assists the mourners to enter and alight from the carriages. at the cemetery the clergyman or priest walks in advance of the coffin. in towns and villages where the cemetery is near at hand and the procession goes on foot, the men should go with uncovered heads, if the weather permit, the hat being held in the right hand. guests return to their respective homes after the services at the grave. floral decorations. the usual decorations of the coffin are flowers, tastefully arranged in a beautiful wreath for a child or young person, and a cross for a married person, which are placed upon the coffin. these flowers should mostly be white. near friends of the deceased may send beautiful floral devices, if they wish, as a mark of their esteem for the deceased, which should be sent in time to be used for decorative purposes. other decorations. a person of rank generally bears some insignia upon his coffin. thus a deceased army or naval officer will have his coffin covered with the national flag, and his hat, epaulettes, sword and sash laid upon the lid. the regalia of a deceased officer of the masonic or odd fellows' fraternity is often placed upon the coffin. calls upon the bereaved family. about a week after the funeral, friends call upon the bereaved family, and acquaintances call within a month. the calls of the latter are not repeated until cards of acknowledgment have been received by the family, the leaving of which announces that they are ready to see their friends. it is the custom for friends to wear no bright colors when making their calls of condolence. in making first calls of condolence, none but most intimate friends ask to see the family. short notes of condolence, expressing the deepest sympathy, are usually accepted, and help to comfort stricken hearts. formal notes of condolence are no longer sent. those who have known anything of the unsounded depths of sorrow do not attempt consolation. all that they attempt to do is to find words wherein to express their deep sympathy with the grief-stricken ones. seclusion of the bereaved family. no member of the immediate family of the deceased will leave the house between the time of the death and the funeral. a lady friend will be commissioned to make all necessary purchases, engage seamstresses, etc. it is not desirable to enshroud ourselves in gloom after a bereavement, however great it may be, and consequently no prescribed period of seclusion can be given. real grief needs no appointed time for seclusion. it is the duty of every one to interest himself or herself in accustomed objects of care as soon as it is possible to make the exertion; for, in fulfilling our duties to the living, we best show the strength of our affection for the dead, as well as our submission to the will of him who knows what is better for our dear ones than we can know or dream. [illustration] chapter xxvii. washington etiquette. certain local rules have been recognized in society at washington, from the fact that a gentleman's social position is acquired by virtue of certain offices which he holds, and the social status of woman is also determined by the official rank of her husband. the president. as the president of the united states holds the highest official rank in political life, so is he also by virtue of that office, awarded precedence in social life. there is no necessity of special formalities to form his acquaintance, and he receives calls without being under any obligation to return them. he may be addressed either as "mr. president," or "your excellency." sometimes he gives up the morning hours to receiving calls, and at such times precedence is given to such people as have business with him, over parties who go to make a formal call. in either case, the caller is shown to the room occupied by the president's secretaries, presents his card and waits his turn to be admitted. if the caller has no business, but goes out of curiosity, he pays his respects and withdraws to make room for others. it is better in making a private call, to secure the company of some official or some friend of the president to introduce you. receptions at the white house. stated receptions are given at the white house by the president during sessions of congress, and all are at liberty to attend them. sometimes these are morning, and sometimes evening, receptions. upon entering the reception room, the caller gives his name to the usher, who announces it, and upon approaching the president is introduced, by some official to whom the duty is assigned, both to the president and to the members of his family who receive with him. the callers pass on, after being introduced, mingle in social intercourse and view the various rooms until ready to depart. if a caller wishes he may leave his card. the same rules of etiquette prevail at state dinners given by the president as at any formal dinner, precedence being given to guests according to official rank and dignity. an invitation by the president must be accepted, and it is admissible to break any other engagement already made; however, it is necessary to explain the cause, in order to avoid giving offense. it is not regarded as discourteous to break an engagement for this reason. the wife of the president is not under obligation to return calls, though she may visit those whom she wishes to favor with such attentions. other members of the president's family may receive and return calls. new-year's receptions at the white house. as the new-year's receptions at the white house are the most ceremonious occasions of the executive mansion, it is the custom of the ladies who attend them to appear in the most elegant toilets suited to a morning reception. members of foreign legations appear in the court dresses of their respective countries on this occasion, in paying their respects to the president of the united states. order of official rank. next in rank to the president come the chief justice, the vice-president and the speaker of the house of representatives. these receive first visits from all others. the general of the army and the admiral of the navy come next in the order of official rank. members of the house of representatives call first on all the officials named. the wife of any official is entitled to the same social precedence as her husband. among officers of the army and navy, the lieutenant-general corresponds to the vice-admiral, the major-general to rear-admiral, brigadier-general to commodore, colonel to captain in the navy, and so on through the lower grades. the cabinet officers. the officers of the cabinet, comprising the secretaries of state, the treasury, the war, the navy, the postmaster-general, the secretary of the interior and attorney-general, expect to receive calls, and as all the officers are of the same rank and dignity, it is only on occasions of state ceremonies that an order of preference is observed, which is as above given. the wives of the cabinet officers, or the ladies of their household, have onerous social duties to perform. they hold receptions every wednesday during the season, which lasts from the first of january to lent, when their houses are open to all who choose to favor them with a call, and on these occasions refreshments are served. the ladies of the family are expected to return these calls, at which time they leave the card of the cabinet officer, and an invitation to an evening reception. the cabinet officers are expected to entertain senators, representatives, justices of the supreme court, members of the diplomatic corps and distinguished visitors at washington, as well as the ladies of their respective families. the visiting hours at the capital are usually from two until half-past five. the labor and fatigue which social duties require of the ladies of the family of a cabinet officer are fairly appalling. to stand for hours during receptions at her own house, to stand at a series of entertainments at the houses of others, whose invitation courtesy requires should be accepted, and to return in person calls made upon her, are a few of the duties of the wife of a cabinet officer. how to address the officials. when writing to the different officials, the president is addressed "his excellency, the president of the united states;" the members of the cabinet "the honorable, the secretary of state," etc., giving each his proper title; the vice-president, "the honorable, the vice-president of the united states." in a ceremonious note, words must not be abbreviated. in conversation the speaker of the house of representatives is addressed as "mr. speaker;" a member of the cabinet as "mr. secretary;" a senator as "mr. senator;" a member of the house of representatives as "mister," unless he has some other title; but he is introduced as "the honorable mr. burrows, of michigan." the custom is becoming prevalent of addressing the wives of officials with the prefixed titles of their husbands, as "mrs. general sherman," "mrs. senator thurman," "mrs. secretary evarts." the first to visit. the custom of first visits or calls at the capital is that residents shall make the first call on strangers, and among the latter those arriving first upon those coming later. foreign ministers, however, in order to make themselves known, call first upon the members of the cabinet, which is returned. senators and representatives. it is entirely optional with senators, representatives and all other officials except the president and members of his cabinet, whether they entertain. they act upon their own pleasure in the matter. chapter xxviii. foreign titles. in this country, where everybody possesses one and the same title, that of a citizen of this republic, no one can claim a superiority of rank and title. not so in european countries, where the right of birth entitles a person to honor, rank and title. and as our citizens are constantly visiting foreign countries, it is well to understand something of titles and ranks and their order of precedence. royalty. in england, the king and queen are placed at the top of the social structure. the mode by which they are addressed is in the form "your majesty." the prince of wales, the heir-apparent to the throne, stands second in dignity. the other children are all known during their minority as princes and princesses. the eldest princess is called the crown princess. upon their majority the younger sons have the title of duke bestowed upon them, and the daughters retain that of princesses, adding to it the title of their husbands. they are all designated as "their royal highnesses." the nobility. a duke who inherits the title from his father, stands one grade below a royal duke. the wife of a duke is known as a duchess. they are both addressed as "your grace." the eldest son is a marquis until he inherits the higher title of his father. his wife is a marchioness. the younger sons are lords by courtesy, and the daughters are distinguished by having "lady" prefixed to their christian names. earls and barons are both spoken of as lords and their wives as ladies, though the latter are by right respectively countesses and baronesses. the daughters of the former are "ladies," the younger sons of both "honorables." the earl occupies the higher position of the two in the peerage. these complete the list of nobility, unless we include bishops, who are lords in right of their ecclesiastical office, but whose title is not hereditary. all these are entitled to seats in the upper house of parliament. the gentry. baronets are known as "sirs," and their wives receive the title of "lady;" but they are only commoners of a higher degree, though there are families who have borne their title for many successive generations who would not exchange it for a recently created peerage. a clergyman, by right of his calling, stands on an equality with all commoners, a bishop with all peers. esquire. the title of esquire, which is only an empty compliment in this country, has special significance in england. the following in that country have a legal right to the title: the sons of peers, whether known in common conversation as lords or honorables. the eldest sons of peers' sons, and their eldest sons in perpetual succession. all the sons of baronets. all esquires of the knights of the bath. lords of manors, chiefs of clans and other tenants of the crown _in capite_ are esquires by prescription. esquires created to that rank by patent, and their eldest sons in perpetual succession. esquires by office, such as justices of the peace while on the roll, mayors of towns during mayoralty, and sheriffs of counties (who retain the title for life). members of the house of commons. barristers-at-law. bachelors of divinity, law and physic. all who in commissions signed by the sovereign, are ever styled esquires retain that designation for life. imperial rank. emperors and empresses rank higher than kings. the sons and daughters of the emperor of austria are called archdukes and archduchesses, the names being handed down from the time when the ruler of that country claimed for himself no higher title than that of archduke. the emperor of russia is known as the czar, the name being identical with the roman cæsar and the german kaiser. the heir-apparent to the russian throne is the czarowitch. european titles. titles in continental europe are so common and so frequently unsustained by landed and moneyed interests, that they have not that significance which they hold in england. a count may be a penniless scamp, depending upon the gambling-table for a precarious subsistence, and looking out for the chance of making a wealthy marriage. a german baron may be a good, substantial, unpretending man, something after the manner of an american farmer. a german prince or duke, since the absorption of the smaller principalities of germany by prussia, may have nothing left him but a barren title and a meagre rent-roll. the italian prince is even of less account than the german one, since his rent-roll is too frequently lacking altogether, and his only inheritance may be a grand but decayed palace, without means sufficient to keep it in repair or furnish it properly. presentation at the court of st. james. it is frequently a satisfaction to an american to be presented to the queen during a sojourn in england, and as the queen is really an excellent woman, worthy of all honor, not only can there be no valid cause for objection to such presentation, but it may well be looked upon as an honor to be sought for. those eligible to presentation at court. the nobility, with their wives and daughters, are eligible to presentation at court, unless there be some grave moral objection, in which case, as it has ever been the aim of the good and virtuous queen to maintain a high standard of morality within her court, the objectionable parties are rigidly excluded. the clergy, naval and military officers, physicians and barristers and the squirearchy, with their wives and daughters, have also the right to pay their personal respects to their queen. those of more democratic professions, such as solicitors, merchants and mechanics, have not, as a rule, that right, though wealth and connection have recently proven an open sesame at the gates of st. james. any person who has been presented at court may present a friend in his or her turn. a person wishing to be presented, must beg the favor from the friend or relative of the highest rank he or she may possess. preliminaries to presentation. any nobleman or gentleman who proposes to be presented to the queen, must leave at the lord chamberlain's office before twelve o'clock, two days before the levee, a card with his name written thereon, and with the name of the nobleman or gentleman by whom he is to be presented. in order to carry out the existing regulation that no presentation can be made at a levee except by a person actually attending that levee, it is also necessary that a letter from the nobleman or gentleman who is to make the presentation, stating it to be his intention to be present, should accompany the presentation card above referred to, which will be submitted to the queen for her majesty's approbation. these regulations of the lord chamberlain must be implicitly obeyed. directions at what gate to enter and where the carriages are to stop are always printed in the newspapers. these directions apply with equal force to ladies and to gentlemen. the person to be presented must provide himself or herself with a court costume, which for men consists partly of knee-breeches and hose, for women of an ample court train. these costumes are indispensable, and can be hired for the occasion. the presentation. it is desirable to be early to escape the crowd. when the lady leaves her carriage, she must leave everything in the shape of a cloak or scarf behind her. her train must be carefully folded over her left arm as she enters the long gallery of st. james, where she waits her turn for presentation. the lady is at length ushered into the presence-chamber, which is entered by two doors. she goes in at the one indicated to her, dropping her train as she passes the threshold, which train is instantly spread out by the wands of the lords-in-waiting. the lady then walks forward towards the sovereign or the person who represents the sovereign. the card on which her name is inscribed is then handed to another lord-in-waiting, who reads the name aloud. when she arrives just before his or her majesty, she should courtesy as low as possible, so as to almost kneel. if the lady presented be a peeress or a peer's daughter, the queen kisses her on the forehead. if only a commoner, then the queen extends her hand to be kissed by the lady presented, who, having done so, rises, courtesies to each of the other members of the royal family present, and then passes on. she must keep her face turned toward the sovereign as she passes to and through the door leading from the presence-chamber. [illustration] chapter xxix. business. in the chapter on "our manners," we have spoken of the importance of civility and politeness as a means of success to the business and professional man. it is in the ordinary walks of life, in the most trivial affairs that a man's real character is shown, and consequently every man, whatever may be his calling, will do well to give due attention to those trivial affairs which, in his daily association with men of the world, will give him a reputation of being cold, austere, and unapproachable, or warm-hearted, genial, and sympathetic. form good habits. it is important for the young man learning business, or just getting a start in business, to form correct habits, and especially of forming the habit of being polite to all with whom he has business relations, showing the same courteous treatment to men or women, poorly or plainly dressed, as though they were attired in the most costly of garments. a man who forms habits of politeness and gentlemanly treatment of everybody in early life, has acquired the good-will of all with whom he has ever been brought into social or business relations. he should also guard against such habits as profanity, the use of tobacco and intoxicating liquors, if he would gain and retain the respect of the best portion of the community, and should, if possible, cultivate the habit of being cheerful at all times and in all places. keep your temper. in discussing business matters, never lose your temper, even though your opponent in a controversy should become angry, and in the heat of discussion make rude and disagreeable remarks and charges. by a calm and dignified bearing and courteous treatment you will conquer his rudeness. honesty the best policy. "honesty is the best policy," is a maxim which merchants and tradesmen will find as true as it is trite, and no tradesman who wishes to retain his customers and his reputation will knowingly misrepresent the quality of his goods. it is not good policy for a merchant or clerk, in selling goods, to tell the customer what they cost, as, in a majority of cases, he will not be believed. the example of a merchant prince. the value of politeness to a merchant is nowhere more clearly shown than in the case of the late a.t. stewart, the merchant prince of new york. he not only treated every customer he waited upon with the utmost courtesy, but he demanded it of every employe, and sought for men possessing every quality of character tending to secure this suavity of manner, in the selection of his salesmen and clerks. he required them to observe rigidly all rules and forms of politeness, and would allow no partiality shown to people on account of their dress, those clad in humble apparel being treated with the same affability and politeness as those richly dressed. everybody who entered his store was sure of receiving kind and courteous treatment. this may, or may not, have been his secret of success, but it certainly gained and retained for him a large custom, and was one element in his character which can be highly commended. and every merchant will be judged of by his customers in proportion to the courteous treatment they receive from him, or from clerks in his store. the lawyer or the doctor will also acquire popularity and patronage as he exhibits courteous and kind treatment to all with whom he comes into social or business relations. breaking an appointment. do not break an appointment with a business man, if possible to avoid it, for if you do, the party with whom you made it may have reason to think that you are not a man of your word, and it may also cause him great annoyance, and loss of time. if, however, it becomes absolutely necessary to do so, you should inform him beforehand, either by a note or by a special messenger, giving reasons for its non-fulfillment. promptly meeting notes and drafts. every business man knows the importance of meeting promptly his notes and drafts, for to neglect it is disastrous to his reputation as a prompt business man. he should consider, also, apart from this, that he is under a moral obligation to meet these payments promptly when due. if circumstances which you cannot control prevent this, write at once to your creditor, stating plainly and frankly the reason why you are unable to pay him, and when you will be able. he will accommodate you if he has reason to believe your statements. prompt payment of bills. if a bill is presented to you for payment, you should, if it is correct, pay it as promptly as though it were a note at the bank already due. the party who presents the bill may be in need of money, and should receive what is his due when he demands it. on the other hand, do not treat a man who calls upon you to pay a bill, or to whom you send to collect a bill, as though you were under no obligation to him. while you have a right to expect him to pay it, still its prompt payment may have so inconvenienced him as to deserve your thanks. general rules. if you chance to see a merchant's books or papers left open before you, it is not good manners to look over them, to ascertain their contents. if you write a letter asking for information, you should always enclose an envelope, addressed and stamped for the answer. courtesy demands that you reply to all letters immediately. if you are in a company of men where two or more are talking over business matters, do not listen to the conversation which it was not intended you should hear. in calling upon a man during business hours, transact your business rapidly and make your call as short as is consistent with the matters on hand. as a rule, men have but little time to visit during business hours. if an employer has occasion to reprove any of his clerks or employes, he will find that by speaking kindly he will accomplish the desired object much better than by harsher means. in paying out a large sum of money, insist that the person to whom it is paid shall count it in your presence, and on the other hand, never receive a sum of money without counting it in the presence of the party who pays it to you. in this way mistakes may be avoided. chapter xxx. dress. to dress well requires good taste, good sense and refinement. a woman of good sense will neither make dress her first nor her last object in life. no sensible wife will betray that total indifference for her husband which is implied in the neglect of her appearance, and she will remember that to dress consistently and tastefully is one of the duties which she owes to society. every lady, however insignificant her social position may appear to herself, must exercise a certain influence on the feelings and opinions of others. an attention to dress is useful as retaining, in the minds of sensible men, that pride in a wife's appearance, which is so agreeable to her, as well as that due influence which cannot be obtained without it. but a love of dress has its perils for weak minds. uncontrolled by good sense, and stimulated by personal vanity it becomes a temptation at first, and then a curse. when it is indulged in to the detriment of better employments, and beyond the compass of means, it cannot be too severely condemned. it then becomes criminal. consistency in dress. consistency in regard to station and fortune is the first matter to be considered. a woman of good sense will not wish to expend in unnecessary extravagances money wrung from an anxious, laborious husband; or if her husband be a man of fortune, she will not, even then, encroach upon her allowance. in the early years of married life, when the income is moderate, it should be the pride of a woman to see how little she can spend upon her dress, and yet present that tasteful and creditable appearance which is desirable. much depends upon management, and upon the care taken of garments. she should turn everything to account, and be careful of her clothing when wearing it. extravagance in dress. dress, to be in perfect taste, need not be costly. it is unfortunate that in the united states, too much attention is paid to dress by those who have neither the excuse of ample means nor of social culture. the wife of a poorly paid clerk, or of a young man just starting in business, aims at dressing as stylishly as does the wealthiest among her acquaintances. the sewing girl, the shop girl, the chambermaid, and even the cook, must have their elegantly trimmed silk dresses and velvet cloaks for sunday and holiday wear, and the injury done by this state of things to the morals and manners of the poorer classes is incalculable. as fashions are constantly changing, those who do not adopt the extremes, as there are so many of the prevailing modes at present, can find something to suit every form and face. indifference to dress. indifference and inattention to dress is a defect of character rather than virtue, and often denotes indolence and slovenliness. every woman should aim to make herself look as well as possible with the means at her command. among the rich, a fondness for dress promotes exertion and activity of the mental powers, cultivates a correct taste and fosters industry and ingenuity among those who seek to procure for them the material and designs for dress. among the middle classes it encourages diligence, contrivance, planning and deftness of handiwork, and among the poorer classes it promotes industry and economy. a fondness for dress, when it does not degenerate into vain show, has an elevating and refining influence on society. appropriate dress. to dress appropriately is another important matter to be considered. due regard must be paid to the physical appearance of the person, and the dress must be made to harmonize throughout. an appropriate dress is that which so harmonizes with the figure as to make the apparel unnoticeable. thin ladies can wear delicate colors, while stout persons look best in black or dark grey. for young and old the question of appropriate color must be determined by the figure and complexion. rich colors harmonize with brunette complexions or dark hair, and delicate colors with persons of light hair and blonde complexions. gloves. gloves are worn by gentlemen as well as ladies in the street, at an evening party, at the opera or theatre, at receptions, at church, when paying a call, riding or driving; but not in the country or at dinner. white should be worn at balls; the palest colors at evening parties and neutral shades at church. evening dress for gentlemen. the evening or full dress for gentlemen is a black dress-suit--a "swallow-tail" coat, the vest cut low, the cravat white, and kid gloves of the palest hue or white. the shirt front should be white and plain; the studs and cuff-buttons simple. especial attention should be given to the hair, which should be neither short nor long. it is better to err upon the too short side, as too long hair savors of affectation, destroys the shape of the physiognomy, and has a touch of vulgarity about it. evening dress is the same for a large dinner party, a ball or an opera. in some circles, however, evening dress is considered an affectation, and it is as well to do as others do. on sunday, morning dress is worn and on that day of the week no gentleman is expected to appear in evening dress, either at church, at home or away from home. gloves are dispensed with at dinner parties, and pale colors are preferred to white for evening wear. morning dress for gentlemen. the morning dress for gentlemen is a black frock-coat, or a black cut-away, white or black vest, according to the season, gray or colored pants, plaid or stripes, according to the fashion, a high silk (stove-pipe) hat, and a black scarf or necktie. a black frock coat with black pants is not considered a good combination, nor is a dress coat and colored or light pants. the morning dress is suitable for garden parties, sundays, social teas, informal calls, morning calls and receptions. it will be seen that morning and evening dress for gentlemen varies as much as it does for ladies. it is decidedly out of place for a gentleman to wear a dress coat and white tie in the day-time, and when evening dress is desired on ceremonious occasions, the shutters should be closed and the gas or lamps lighted. the true evening costume or full dress suit, accepted as such throughout the world, has firmly established itself in this country; yet there is still a considerable amount of ignorance displayed as to the occasions when it should be worn, and it is not uncommon for the average american, even high officials and dignified people, to wear the full evening costume at a morning reception or some midday ceremony. a dress coat at a morning or afternoon reception or luncheon, is entirely out of place, while the frock-coat or cut-away and gray pants, make a becoming costume for such an occasion. jewelry for gentlemen. it is not considered in good taste for men to wear much jewelry. they may with propriety wear one gold ring, studs and cuff-buttons, and a watch chain, not too massive, with a modest pendant, or none at all. anything more looks like a superabundance of ornament. evening dress for ladies. evening dress for ladies may be as rich, elegant and gay as one chooses to make it. it is everywhere the custom to wear full evening dress in brilliant evening assemblages. it may be cut either high or low at the neck, yet no lady should wear her dress so low as to make it quite noticeable or a special subject of remark. evening dress is what is commonly known as "full dress," and will serve for a large evening party, ball or dinner. no directions will be laid down with reference to it, as fashion devises how it is to be made and what material used. ball dress. ball dressing requires less art than the nice gradations of costume in the dinner dress, and the dress for evening parties. for a ball, everything should be light and diaphanous, somewhat fanciful and airy. the heavy, richly trimmed silk is only appropriate to those who do not dance. the richest velvets, the brightest and most delicate tints in silk, the most expensive laces, elaborate coiffures, a large display of diamonds, artificial flowers for the head-dress and natural flowers for hand bouquets, all belong, more or less, to the costume for a large ball. the full dinner dress. the full dinner dress for guests admits of great splendor. it may be of any thick texture of silk or velvet for winter, or light rich goods for summer, and should be long and sweeping. every trifle in a lady's costume should be, as far as she can afford it, faultless. the fan should be perfect in its way, and the gloves should be quite fresh. diamonds are used in broaches, pendants, ear-rings and bracelets. if artificial flowers are worn in the hair, they should be of the choicest description. all the light neutral tints, and black, dark blue, purple, dark green, garnet, brown and fawn are suited for dinner wear. dress of hostess at a dinner party. the dress of a hostess at a dinner party should be rich in material, but subdued in tone, so as not to eclipse any of her guests. a young hostess should wear a dress of rich silk, black or dark in color, with collar and cuffs of fine lace, and if the dinner be by daylight, plain jewelry, but by gaslight diamonds. showy dress. the glaring colors and "loud" costumes, once so common, have given place to sober grays, and browns and olives; black predominating over all. the light, showily-trimmed dresses, which were once displayed in the streets and fashionable promenades, are now only worn in carriages. this display of showy dress and glaring colors is generally confined to those who love ostentation more than comfort. dress for receiving calls. if a lady has a special day for the reception of calls, her dress must be of silk, or other goods suitable to the season, or to her position, but must be of quiet colors and plainly worn. lace collars and cuffs should be worn with this dress, and a certain amount of jewelry is also admissible. a lady whose mornings are devoted to the superintendence of her domestic affairs, may receive a casual caller in her ordinary morning dress, which must be neat, yet plain, with white plain linen collars and cuffs. for new year's, or other calls of special significance, the dress should be rich, and may be elaborately trimmed. if the parlors are closed and the gas lighted, full evening dress is required. carriage dress. the material for a dress for a drive through the public streets of a city, or along a fashionable drive or park, cannot be too rich. silks, velvets and laces, are all appropriate, with rich jewelry and costly furs in cold weather. if the fashion require it, the carriage dress may be long enough to trail, or it may be of the length of a walking dress, which many prefer. for driving in the country, a different style of dress is required, as the dust and mud would soil rich material. visiting costumes. visiting costumes, or those worn at a funeral or informal calls, are of richer material than walking suits. the bonnet is either simple or rich, according to the taste of the wearer. a jacket of velvet, or shawl, or fur-trimmed mantle are the concomitants of the carriage dress for winter. in summer all should be bright, cool, agreeable to wear and pleasant to look at. dress for morning calls. morning calls may be made either in walking or carriage dress, provided the latter is justified by the presence of the carriage. the dress should be of silk; collar and cuffs of the finest lace; light gloves; a full dress bonnet and jewelry of gold, either dead, burnished or enameled, or of cameo or coral. diamonds are not usually worn in daylight. a dress of black or neutral tint, in which light colors are introduced only in small quantities, is the most appropriate for a morning call. morning dress for street. the morning dress for the street should be quiet in color, plainly made and of serviceable material. it should be short enough to clear the ground without collecting mud and garbage. lisle-thread gloves in midsummer, thick gloves in midwinter, are more comfortable for street wear than kid ones. linen collars and cuffs are most suitable for morning street dress. the bonnet and hat should be quiet and inexpressive, matching the dress as nearly as possible. in stormy weather a large waterproof with hood is more convenient and less troublesome than an umbrella. the morning dress for visiting or breakfasting in public may be, in winter, of woolen goods, simply made and quietly trimmed, and in summer, of cambric, pique, marseilles or other wash goods, either white or figured. for morning wear at home the dress may be still simpler. the hair should be plainly arranged without ornament. the promenade dress. the dress for the promenade should be in perfect harmony with itself. all the colors worn should harmonize if they are not strictly identical. the bonnet should not be of one color, and parasol of another, the dress of a third and the gloves of a fourth. nor should one article be new and another shabby. the collars and cuffs should be of lace; the kid gloves should be selected to harmonize with the color of the dress, a perfect fit. the jewelry worn should be bracelets, cuff-buttons, plain gold ear-rings, a watch chain and brooch. opera dress. opera dress for matinees may be as elegant as for morning calls. a bonnet is always worn even by those who occupy boxes, but it may be as dressy as one chooses to make it. in the evening, ladies are at liberty to wear evening dresses, with ornaments in their hair, instead of a bonnet, and as the effect of light colors is much better than dark in a well-lighted opera house, they should predominate. the riding dress. a lady's riding habit should fit perfectly without being tight. the skirt must be full, and long enough to cover the feet, but not of extreme length. the boots must be stout and the gloves gauntleted. broadcloth is regarded as the more dressy cloth, though waterproof is the more serviceable. something lighter may be worn for summer, and in the lighter costumes a row of shot must be stitched at the bottom of the breadths of the left side to prevent the skirts from being blown by the wind. the riding dress is made to fit the waist closely, and button nearly to the throat. above a small collar or reverse of the waist is shown a plain linen collar, fastened at the throat with a bright or black necktie. coat sleeves should come to the wrist with linen cuffs beneath them. no lace or embroidery is allowable in a riding costume. it is well to have the waist attached to a skirt of the usual length, and the long skirt fastened over it, so that if any accident occurs obliging the lady to dismount, she may easily remove the long overskirt and still be properly dressed. the hair should be put up compactly, and no veil should be allowed to stream in the wind. the shape of the hat will vary with the fashion, but it should always be plainly trimmed, and if feathers are worn they must be fastened so that the wind cannot blow them over the wearer's eyes. a walking suit. the material for a walking suit may be either rich or plain to suit the taste and means of the wearer. it should always be well made and never appear shabby. bright colors appear best only as trimmings. black has generally been adopted for street dresses as the most becoming. for the country, walking dresses are made tasteful, solid and strong, more for service than display, and what would be perfectly appropriate for the streets of a city would be entirely out of place on the muddy, unpaved walks of a small town or in a country neighborhood. the walking or promenade dress is always made short enough to clear the ground. thick boots are worn with the walking suit. dress for ladies of business. for women who are engaged in some daily employment such as teachers, saleswomen and those who are occupied in literature, art or business of some sort, the dress should be somewhat different from the ordinary walking costume. its material should be more serviceable, better fitted to endure the vicissitudes of the weather, and of quiet colors, such as brown or gray, and not easily soiled. while the costume should not be of the simplest nature, it should dispense with all superfluities in the way of trimming. it should be made with special reference to a free use of the arms, and to easy locomotion. linen cuffs and collars are best suited to this kind of dress, gloves which can be easily removed, street walking boots, and for jewelry, plain cuff-buttons, brooch and watch chain. the hat or bonnet should be neat and tasty, with but few flowers or feathers. for winter wear, waterproof, tastefully made up, is the best material for a business woman's outer garment. ordinary evening dress. the ordinary evening house dress should be tasteful and becoming, with a certain amount of ornament, and worn with jewelry. silks are the most appropriate for this dress, but all the heavy woolen dress fabrics for winter, and the lighter lawns and organdies for summer, elegantly made, are suitable. for winter, the colors should be rich and warm, and knots of bright ribbon of a becoming color, should be worn at the throat and in the hair. the latter should be plainly dressed. artificial flowers and diamonds are out of place. this is both a suitable dress in which to receive or make a casual evening call. if a hood is worn, it must be removed during the call. otherwise a full dress bonnet must be worn. dress for social party. for the social evening party, more latitude is allowed in the choice of colors, material, trimmings, etc., than for the ordinary evening dress. dresses should cover the arms and shoulder; but if cut low in the neck, and with short sleeves, puffed illusion waists or some similar device should be employed to cover the neck and arms. gloves may or may not be worn, but if they are they should be of some light color. dress for church. the dress for church should be plain, of dark, quiet colors, with no superfluous trimming or jewelry. it should, in fact, be the plainest of promenade dresses, as church is not the place for display of fine clothes. the dress for the theatre. the promenade dress with the addition of a handsome cloak or shawl, which may be thrown aside if it is uncomfortable, is suitable for a theatre. the dress should be quiet and plain without any attempt at display. either a bonnet or hat may be worn. gloves should be dark, harmonizing with the dress. dress for lecture and concert. for the lecture or concert, silk is an appropriate dress, and should be worn with lace collars and cuffs and jewelry. a rich shawl or velvet promenade cloak, or opera cloak for a concert is an appropriate outer garment. the latter may or may not be kept on the shoulders during the evening. white or light kid gloves should be worn. croquet, archery and skating costumes. croquet and archery costumes may be similar, and they admit of more brilliancy in coloring than any of the out-of-door costumes. they should be short, displaying a handsomely fitting but stout boot, and should be so arranged as to leave the arms perfectly free. the gloves should be soft and washable. kid is not suitable for either occasion. the hat should have a broad brim, so as to shield the face from the sun, and render a parasol unnecessary. the trimming for archery costumes is usually of green. an elegant skating costume may be of velvet, trimmed with fur, with fur bordered gloves and boots. any of the warm, bright colored wool fabrics, however, are suitable for the dress. if blue or green are worn, they should be relieved with trimmings of dark furs. silk is not suitable for skating costume. to avoid suffering from cold feet, the boot should be amply loose. bathing costume. flannel is the best material for a bathing costume, and gray is regarded as the most suitable color. it may be trimmed with bright worsted braid. the best form is the loose sacque, or the yoke waist, both of them to be belted in, and falling about midway between the knee and ankle; an oilskin cap to protect the hair from the water, and merino socks to match the dress, complete the costume. traveling dress. comfort and protection from dust and dirt are the requirements of a traveling dress. when a lady is about making an extensive journey, a traveling suit is a great convenience, but for a short journey, a large linen overdress or duster may be put on over the ordinary dress in summer, and in winter a waterproof cloak may be used in the same way. for traveling costumes a variety of materials may be used, of soft, neutral tints, and smooth surface which does not retain the dust. these should be made up plainly and quite short. the underskirts should be colored, woolen in winter and linen in summer. the hat or bonnet must be plainly trimmed and completely protected by a large veil. velvet is unfit for a traveling hat, as it catches and retains the dust; collars and cuffs of plain linen. the hair should be put up in the plainest manner. a waterproof and warm woolen shawl are indispensible, and may be rolled in a shawl strap when not needed. a satchel should be carried, in which may be kept a change of collars, cuffs, gloves, handkerchiefs, toilet articles, and towels. a traveling dress should be well supplied with pockets. the waterproof should have large pockets, and there should be one in the underskirt in which to carry such money and valuables as are not needed for immediate use. the wedding dress. a full bridal costume should be white from head to foot. the dress may be of silk, heavily corded, moire antique, satin or plain silk, merino, alpaca, crape, lawn or muslin. the veil may be of lace, tulle or illusion, but it must be long and full. it may or may not descend over the face. orange blossoms or other white flowers and maiden blush roses should form the bridal wreath and bouquet. the dress is high and the arms covered. slippers of white satin and white kid gloves complete the dress. the dress of the bridegroom and ushers is given in the chapter treating of the etiquette of weddings. dress of bridemaids. the dresses of bridemaids are not so elaborate as that of the bride. they should also be of white, but may be trimmed with delicately colored flowers and ribbons. white tulle, worn over pale pink or blue silk and caught up with blush roses or forget-me-nots, with _bouquet de corsage_ and hand bouquet of the same, makes a beautiful costume for the bridemaids. the latter, may or may not, wear veils, but if they do, they should be shorter than that of the bride. traveling dress of a bride. this should be of silk, or any of the fine fabrics for walking dresses; should be of some neutral tint; and bonnet and gloves should match in color. it may be more elaborately trimmed than an ordinary traveling dress, but if the bride wishes to attract as little attention as possible, she will not make herself conspicuous by a too showy dress. in private weddings the bride is sometimes married in traveling costume, and the bridal pair at once set out upon their journey. dress at wedding receptions. at wedding receptions in the evening, guests should wear full evening dress. no one should attend in black or mourning dress, which should give place to grey or lavender. at a morning reception of the wedded couple, guests should wear the richest street costume with white gloves. mourning. the people of the united states have settled upon no prescribed periods for the wearing of mourning garments. some wear them long after their hearts have ceased to mourn. where there is profound grief, no rules are needed, but where the sorrow is not so great, there is need of observance of fixed periods for wearing mourning. deep mourning requires the heaviest black of serge, bombazine, lustreless alpaca, delaine, merino or similar heavily clinging material, with collar and cuffs of crape. mourning garments should have little or no trimming; no flounces, ruffles or bows are allowable. if the dress is not made _en suite_, then a long or square shawl of barege or cashmere with crape border is worn. the bonnet is of black crape; a hat is inadmissible. the veil is of crape or barege with heavy border; black gloves and black-bordered handkerchief. in winter dark furs may be worn with the deepest mourning. jewelry is strictly forbidden, and all pins, buckles, etc., must be of jet. lustreless alpaca and black silk trimmed with crape may be worn in second mourning, with white collars and cuffs. the crape veil is laid aside for net or tulle, but the jet jewelry is still retained. a still less degree of mourning is indicated by black and white, purple and gray, or a combination of these colors. crape is still retained in bonnet trimming, and crape flowers may be added. light gray, white and black, and light shades of lilac, indicate a slight mourning. black lace bonnet, with white or violet flowers, supercedes crape, and jet and gold jewelry is worn. periods of wearing mourning. the following rules have been given by an authority competent to speak on these matters regarding the degree of mourning and the length of time it should be worn: "the deepest mourning is that worn by a widow for her husband. it is worn two years, sometimes longer. widow's mourning for the first year consists of solid black woolen goods, collar and cuffs of folded untrimmed crape, a simple crape bonnet, and a long, thick, black crape veil. the second year, silk trimmed with crape, black lace collar and cuffs, and a shorter veil may be worn, and in the last six months gray, violet and white are permitted. a widow should wear the hair perfectly plain if she does not wear a cap, and should always wear a bonnet, never a hat. "the mourning for a father or mother is worn for one year. the first six months the proper dress is of solid black woolen goods trimmed with crape, black crape bonnet with black crape facings and black strings, black crape veil, collar and cuffs of black crape. three months, black silk with crape trimming, white or black lace collar and cuffs, veil of tulle and white bonnet-facings; and the last three months in gray, purple and violet. mourning worn for a child is the same as that worn for a parent. "mourning for a grandparent is worn for six months, three months black woolen goods, white collar and cuffs, short crape veil and bonnet of crape trimmed with black silk or ribbon; six weeks in black silk trimmed with crape, lace collar and cuffs, short tulle veil; and six weeks in gray, purple, white and violet. "mourning worn for a friend who leaves you an inheritance, is the same as that worn for a grandparent. "mourning for a brother or sister is worn six months, two months in solid black trimmed with crape, white linen collar and cuffs, bonnet of black with white facing and black strings; two months in black silk, with white lace collar and cuffs; and two months in gray, purple, white and violet. "mourning for an uncle or aunt is worn for three months, and is the second mourning named above, tulle, white linen and white bonnet facings being worn at once. for a nephew or niece, the same is worn for the same length of time. "the deepest mourning excludes kid gloves; they should be of cloth, silk or thread; and no jewelry is permitted during the first month of close mourning. embroidery, jet trimmings, puffs, plaits--in fact, trimming of any kind--is forbidden in deep mourning, but worn when it is lightened. "mourning handkerchiefs should be of very sheer fine linen, with a border of black, very wide for close mourning, narrower as the black is lightened. "mourning silks should be perfectly lusterless, and the ribbons worn without any gloss. "ladies invited to funeral ceremonies should always wear a black dress, even if they are not in mourning; and it is bad taste to appear with a gay bonnet or shawl, as if for a festive occasion. "the mourning for children under twelve years of age is white in summer and gray in winter, with black trimmings, belt, sleeve ruffles and bonnet ribbons." [illustration] chapter xxxi. harmony of colors in dress. the selection and proper arrangement of colors, so that they will produce the most pleasant harmony, is one of the most desirable requisites in dress. sir joshua reynolds says: "color is the last attainment of excellence in every school of painting." the same may also be said in regard to the art of using colors in dress. nevertheless, it is the first thing to which we should give our attention and study. we put bright colors upon our little children; we dress our young girls in light and delicate shades; the blooming matron is justified in adopting the warm, rich hues which we see in the autumn leaf, while black and neutral tints are declared appropriate to the old. one color should predominate in the dress; and if another is adopted, it should be in a limited quantity and only by way of contrast or harmony. some colors may never, under any circumstances, be worn together, because they produce positive discord to the eye. if the dress be blue, red should never be introduced by way of trimming, or _vice versa_. red and blue, red and yellow, blue and yellow, and scarlet and crimson may never be united in the same costume. if the dress be red, green maybe introduced in a minute quantity; if blue, orange; if green, crimson. scarlet and solferino are deadly enemies, each killing the other whenever they meet. two contrasting colors, such as red and green, may not be used in equal quantities in the dress, as they are both so positive in tone that they divide and distract the attention. when two colors are worn in any quantity, one must approach a neutral tint, such as gray or drab. black may be worn with any color, though it looks best with the lighter shades of the different colors. white may also be worn with any color, though it looks best with the darker tones. thus white and crimson, black and pink, each contrast better and have a richer effect than though the black were united with the crimson and the white with the pink. drab, being a shade of no color between black and white, may be worn with equal effect with all. a person of very fair, delicate complexion, should always wear the most delicate of tints, such as light blue, mauve and pea-green. a brunette requires bright colors, such as scarlet and orange, to bring out the brilliant tints in her complexion. a florid face and auburn hair call for blue. black hair has its color and depth enhanced by scarlet, orange or white, and will bear diamonds, pearls or lustreless gold. dark brown hair will bear light blue, or dark blue in a lesser quantity. if the hair has no richness of coloring, a pale yellowish green will by reflection produce the lacking warm tint. light brown hair requires blue, which sets off to advantage the golden tint. pure golden or yellow hair needs blue, and its beauty is also increased by the addition of pearls or white flowers. auburn hair, if verging on the red, needs scarlet to tone it down. if of a golden red, blue, green, purple or black will bring out the richness of its tints. flaxen hair requires blue. material for dress. the material for dress must be selected with reference to the purpose which it is to serve. no one buys a yellow satin dress for the promenade, yet a yellow satin seen by gaslight is beautiful, as an evening-dress. neither would one buy a heavy serge of neutral tint for an opera-dress. size in relation to dress and colors. a small person may dress in light colors which would be simply ridiculous on a person of larger proportions. so a lady of majestic appearance should never wear white, but will be seen to the best advantage in black or dark tints. a lady of diminutive stature is dressed in bad taste when she appears in a garment with large figures, plaids or stripes. neither should a lady of large proportions be seen in similar garments, because, united with her size, they give her a "loud" appearance. indeed, pronounced figures and broad stripes and plaids are never in perfect taste. heavy, rich materials suit a tall figure, while light, full draperies should only be worn by those of slender proportions and not too short. the very short and stout must be content with meagre drapery and quiet colors. tall and slim persons should avoid stripes; short, chunky ones, flounces, or any horizontal trimming of the dress which, by breaking the outline from the waist to the feet, produces an effect of shortening. how colors harmonize. colors may form a harmony either by contrast or by analogy. when two remote shades of one color are associated, such as very light blue and a very dark blue, they harmonize by contrast, though the harmony may be neither striking nor perfect. when two colors which are similar to each other are grouped, such as orange and scarlet, crimson and orange, they harmonize by analogy. a harmony of contrast is characterized by brilliancy and decision, and a harmony of analogy by a quiet and pleasing association of colors. when a color is chosen which is favorable to the complexion, it is well to associate with it the tints which will harmonize by analogy, as to use contrasting colors would diminish its favorable effect. when a color is used in dress, not suitable to the complexion, it should be associated with contrasting colors, as they have the power to neutralize its objectionable influence. [illustration] colors of similar power which contrast with each other, mutually intensify each other's brilliancy, as blue and orange, scarlet and green; but dark and light colors associated do not intensify each other to the same degree, the dark appearing darker and the light appearing lighter, as dark blue and straw color. colors which harmonize with each other by analogy, reduce each other's brilliancy to a greater or less degree, as white and yellow, blue and purple, black and brown. the various shades of purple and lilac, dark blues and dark greens, lose much of their brilliancy by gaslight, while orange, scarlet, crimson, the light browns and light greens, gain brilliancy by a strong artificial light. below the reader will find a list of colors that harmonize, forming most agreeable combinations, in which are included all the latest and most fashionable shades and colors: black and pink. black and lilac. black and scarlet. black and maize. black and slate color. black and orange, a rich harmony. black and white, a perfect harmony. black and brown, a dull harmony. black and drab or buff. black, white or yellow and crimson. black, orange, blue and scarlet. black and chocolate brown. black and shaded cardinal. black and cardinal. black, yellow, bronze and light blue. black, cardinal, blue and old gold. blue and brown. blue and black. blue and gold, a rich harmony. blue and orange, a perfect harmony. blue and chestnut (or chocolate). blue and maize. blue and straw color. blue and white. blue and fawn color, weak harmony. blue and stone color. blue and drab. blue and lilac, weak harmony. blue and crimson, imperfectly. blue and pink, poor harmony. blue and salmon color. blue, scarlet and purple (or lilac). blue, orange and black. blue, orange and green. blue, brown, crimson and gold (or yellow). blue, orange, black and white. blue, pink and bronze green. blue, cardinal and old gold. blue, yellow, chocolate-brown and gold. blue, mulberry and yellow. bronze and old gold. bronze, pink and light blue. bronze, black, blue, pink and gold. bronze, cardinal and peacock blue. brown, blue, green, cardinal and yellow. brown, yellow, cardinal and peacock blue. crimson and gold, rich harmony. crimson and orange, rich harmony. crimson and brown, dull harmony. crimson and black, dull harmony. crimson and drab. crimson and maize. crimson and purple. cardinal and old gold. cardinal, brown and black. cardinal and navy blue. chocolate, blue, pink and gold. claret and old gold. dark green, white and cardinal. ecrue, bronze and peacock. ecrue and light blue. garnet, bronze and pink. gensd'arme and cardinal. gensd'arme and bronze. gensd'arme and myrtle. gensd'arme and old gold. gensd'arme, yellow and cardinal. gensd'arme, pink, cardinal and lavender. green and gold, or gold color. green and scarlet. green and orange. green and yellow. green, crimson, blue and gold, or yellow. green, blue and scarlet. green, gold and mulberry. green and cardinal. lilac and white, poor. lilac and gray, poor. lilac and maize. lilac and cherry. lilac and gold, or gold color. lilac and scarlet. lilac and crimson. lilac, scarlet and white or black. lilac, gold color and crimson. lilac, yellow or gold, scarlet and white. light pink and garnet. light drab, pine, yellow and white. myrtle and old gold. myrtle and bronze. myrtle, red, blue and yellow. myrtle, mulberry, cardinal, gold and light green. mulberry and old gold. mulberry and gold. mulberry and bronze. mulberry, bronze and gold. mulberry and pearl. mode, pearl and mulberry. maroon, yellow, silvery gray and light green. navy blue, light blue and gold. navy blue, gensd'arme and pearl. navy blue, maize, cardinal and yellow. orange and bronze, agreeable. orange and chestnut. orange, lilac and crimson. orange, red and green. orange, purple and scarlet. orange, blue, scarlet and purple. orange, blue, scarlet and claret. orange, blue, scarlet, white and green. orange, blue and crimson. pearl, light blue and peacock blue. peacock blue and light gold. peacock blue and old gold. peacock blue and cardinal. peacock blue, pearl, gold and cardinal. purple and maize. purple and blue. purple and gold, or gold color, rich. purple and orange, rich. purple and black, heavy. purple and white, cold. purple, scarlet and gold color. purple, scarlet and white. purple, scarlet, blue and orange. purple, scarlet, blue, yellow and black. red and white, or gray. red and gold, or gold color. red, orange and green. red, yellow or gold color and black. red, gold color, black and white. seal brown, gold and cardinal. sapphire and bronze. sapphire and old gold. sapphire and cardinal. sapphire and light blue. sapphire and light pink. sapphire and corn. sapphire and garnet. sapphire and mulberry. shaded blue and black. scarlet and blue. scarlet and slate color. scarlet and orange. scarlet, blue and white. scarlet, blue and yellow. scarlet, black and white. scarlet, blue, black and yellow. shaded blue, shaded garnet and shaded gold. shaded blue and black. white and cherry. white and crimson. white and brown. white and pink. white and scarlet. white and gold color, poor. yellow and black. yellow and brown. yellow and red. yellow and chestnut or chocolate. yellow and white, poor. yellow and purple, agreeable. yellow and violet. yellow and lilac, weak. yellow and blue, cold. yellow and crimson. yellow, purple and crimson. yellow, purple, scarlet and blue. yellow, cardinal and peacock blue. yellow, pink, maroon and light blue. [illustration] chapter xxxii. the toilet. to appear at all times neat, clean and tidy, is demanded of every well-bred person. the dress may be plain, rich or extravagant, but there must be a neatness and cleanliness of the person. whether a lady is possessed of few or many personal attractions, it is her duty at all times to appear tidy and clean, and to make herself as comely and attractive as circumstances and surroundings will permit. the same may be said of a gentleman. if a gentleman calls upon a lady, his duty and his respect for her demand that he shall appear not only in good clothes, but with well combed hair, exquisitely clean hands, well trimmed beard or cleanly shaven face, while the lady will not show herself in an untidy dress, or disheveled hair. they should appear at their best. upon the minor details of the toilet depend, in a great degree, the health, not to say the beauty, of the individual. in fact the highest state of health is equivalent to the highest degree of beauty of which the individual is capable. perfumes. perfumes, if used at all, should be used in the strictest moderation, and be of the most _recherche_ kind. musk and patchouli should always be avoided, as, to many people of sensitive temperament, their odor is exceedingly disagreeable. cologne water of the best quality is never offensive. the bath. cleanliness is the outward sign of inward purity. cleanliness of the person is health, and health is beauty. the bath is consequently a very important means of preserving the health and enhancing the beauty. it is not to be supposed that we bathe simply to become clean, but because we wish to remain clean. cold water refreshes and invigorates, but does not cleanse, and persons who daily use a sponge bath in the morning, should frequently use a warm one, of from ninety-six to one hundred degrees fahrenheit for cleansing purposes. when a plunge bath is taken, the safest temperature is from eighty to ninety degrees, which answers the purposes of both cleansing and refreshing. soap should be plentifully used, and the fleshbrush applied vigorously, drying with a coarse turkish towel. nothing improves the complexion like the daily use of the fleshbrush, with early rising and exercise in the open air. in many houses, in large cities, there is a separate bath-room, with hot and cold water, but in smaller places and country houses this convenience is not to be found. a substitute for the bath-room is a large piece of oil-cloth, which can be laid upon the floor of an ordinary dressing-room. upon this may be placed the bath tub or basin, or a person may use it to stand upon while taking a sponge bath. the various kinds of baths, both hot and cold, are the shower bath, the douche, the hip bath and the sponge bath. the shower bath can only be endured by the most vigorous constitutions, and therefore cannot be recommended for indiscriminate use. a douche or hip bath may be taken every morning, with the temperature of the water suited to the endurance of the individual. in summer a sponge bath may be taken upon retiring. once a week a warm bath, at from ninety to one hundred degrees, may be taken, with plenty of soap, in order to thoroughly cleanse the pores of the skin. rough towels should be vigorously used after these baths, not only to remove the impurities of the skin but for the beneficial friction which will send a glow over the whole body. the hair glove or flesh brush may be used to advantage in the bath before the towel is applied. the teeth. the teeth should be carefully brushed with a hard brush after each meal, and also on retiring at night. use the brush so that not only the outside of the teeth becomes white, but the inside also. after the brush is used plunge it two or three times into a glass of water, then rub it quite dry on a towel. use tooth-washes or powders very sparingly. castile soap used once a day, with frequent brushings with pure water and a brush, cannot fail to keep the teeth clean and white, unless they are disfigured and destroyed by other bad habits, such as the use of tobacco, or too hot or too cold drinks. decayed teeth. on the slightest appearance of decay or tendency to accumulate tartar, go at once to the dentist. if a dark spot appearing under the enamel is neglected, it will eat in until the tooth is eventually destroyed. a dentist seeing the tooth in its first stage, will remove the decayed part and plug the cavity in a proper manner. tartar on the teeth. tartar is not so easily dealt with, but it requires equally early attention. it results from an impaired state of the general health, and assumes the form of a yellowish concretion on the teeth and gums. at first it is possible to keep it down by a repeated and vigorous use of the tooth brush; but if a firm, solid mass accumulates, it is necessary to have it chipped off by a dentist. unfortunately, too, by that time it will probably have begun to loosen and destroy the teeth on which it fixes, and is pretty certain to have produced one obnoxious effect--that of tainting the breath. washing the teeth with vinegar when the brush is used has been recommended as a means of removing tartar. tenderness of the gums, to which some persons are subject, may sometimes be met by the use of salt and water, but it is well to rinse the mouth frequently with water with a few drops of tincture of myrrh in it. foul breath. foul breath, unless caused by neglected teeth, indicates a deranged state of the system. when it is occasioned by the teeth or other local case, use a gargle consisting of a spoonful of solution of chloride of lime in half a tumbler of water. gentlemen smoking, and thus tainting the breath, may be glad to know that the common parsley has a peculiar effect in removing the odor of tobacco. the skin. beauty and health of the skin can only be obtained by perfect cleanliness of the entire person, an avoidance of all cosmetics, added to proper diet, correct habits and early habits of rising and exercise. the skin must be thoroughly washed, occasionally with warm water and soap, to remove the oily exudations on its surface. if any unpleasant sensations are experienced after the use of soap, they may be immediately removed by rinsing the surface with water to which a little lemon juice or vinegar has been added. preserving a youthful complexion. the following rules may be given for the preservation of a youthful complexion: rise early and go to bed early. take plenty of exercise. use plenty of cold water and good soap frequently. be moderate in eating and drinking. do not lace. avoid as much as possible the vitiated atmosphere of crowded assemblies. shun cosmetics and washes for the skin. the latter dry the skin, and only defeat the end they are supposed to have in view. moles. moles are frequently a great disfigurement to the face, but they should not be tampered with in any way. the only safe and certain mode of getting rid of moles is by a surgical operation. freckles. freckles are of two kinds. those occasioned by exposure to the sunshine, and consequently evanescent, are denominated "summer freckles;" those which are constitutional and permanent are called "cold freckles." with regard to the latter, it is impossible to give any advice which will be of value. they result from causes not to be affected by mere external applications. summer freckles are not so difficult to deal with, and with a little care the skin may be kept free from this cause of disfigurement. some skins are so delicate that they become freckled on the slightest exposure to open air in summer. the cause assigned for this is that the iron in the blood, forming a junction with the oxygen, leaves a rusty mark where the junction takes place. we give in their appropriate places some recipes for removing these latter freckles from the face. other discolorations. there are various other discolorations of the skin, proceeding frequently from derangement of the system. the cause should always be discovered before attempting a remedy; otherwise you may aggravate the complaint rather than cure it. the eyes. beautiful eyes are the gift of nature, and can owe little to the toilet. as in the eye consists much of the expression of the face, therefore it should be borne in mind that those who would have their eyes bear a pleasing expression must cultivate pleasing traits of character and beautify the soul, and then this beautiful soul will look through its natural windows. never tamper with the eyes. there is danger of destroying them. all daubing or dyeing of the lids is foolish and vulgar. short-sightedness. short-sightedness is not always a natural defect. it may be acquired by bad habits in youth. a short-sighted person should supply himself with glasses exactly adapted to his wants; but it is well not to use these glasses too constantly, as, even when they perfectly fit the eye, they really tend to shorten the sight. unless one is very short-sighted, it is best to keep the glasses for occasional use, and trust ordinarily to the unaided eye. parents and teachers should watch their children and see that they do not acquire the habit of holding their books too close to their eyes, and thus injure their sight. squint-eyes and cross-eyes. parents should also be careful that their children do not become squint or cross-eyed through any carelessness. a child's hair hanging down loosely over its eyes, or a bonnet projecting too far over them, or a loose ribbon or tape fluttering over the forehead, is sometimes sufficient to direct the sight irregularly until it becomes permanently crossed. the eyelashes and eyebrows. a beautiful eyelash is an important adjunct to the eye. the lashes may be lengthened by trimming them occasionally in childhood. care should be taken that this trimming is done neatly and evenly, and especially that the points of the scissors do not penetrate the eye. the eyebrows may be brushed carefully in the direction in which they should lie. in general, it is in exceeding bad taste to dye either lashes or brows, for it usually brings them into disharmony with the hair and features. there are cases, however, when the beauty of an otherwise fine countenance is utterly ruined by white lashes and brows. in such cases one can hardly be blamed if india ink is resorted to to give them the desired color. never shave the brows. it adds to their beauty in no way, and may result in an irregular growth of new hair. take care of the eyes. the utmost care should be taken of the eyes. they should never be strained in an imperfect light, whether that of shrouded daylight, twilight or flickering lamp or candle-light. many persons have an idea that an habitually dark room is best for the eyes. on the contrary, it weakens them and renders them permanently unable to bear the light of the sun. our eyes were naturally designed to endure the broad light of day, and the nearer we approach to this in our houses, the stronger will be our eyes and the longer will we retain our sight. eyebrows meeting. some persons have the eyebrows meeting over the nose. this is usually considered a disfigurement, but there is no remedy for it. it may be a consolation for such people to know that the ancients admired this style of eyebrows, and that michael angelo possessed it. it is useless to pluck out the uniting hairs; and if a depilatory is applied, a mark like that of a scar left from a burn remains, and is more disfiguring than the hair. inflamed eyes. if the lids of the eyes become inflamed and scaly, do not seek to remove the scales roughly, for they will bring the lashes with them. apply at night a little cold cream to the edges of the closed eyelids, and wash them in the morning with lukewarm milk and water. it is well to have on the toilet-table a remedy for inflamed eyes. spermaceti ointment is simple and well adapted to this purpose. apply at night, and wash off with rose-water in the morning. there is a simple lotion made by dissolving a very small piece of alum and a piece of lump-sugar of the same size in a quart of water; put the ingredients into the water cold and let them simmer. bathe the eyes frequently with it. the sty. a sty in the eye is irritating and disfiguring. bathe with warm water; at night apply a bread-and-milk poultice. when a white head forms, prick it with a fine needle. should the inflammation be obstinate, a little citrine ointment may be applied, care being taken that it does not get into the eye. the hair. there is nothing that so adds to the charm of an individual, especially a lady, as a good head of hair. the skin of the head requires even more tenderness and cleanliness than any other portion of the body, and is capable of being irritated by disease. the hair should be brushed carefully. the brush should be of moderate hardness, not too hard. the hair should be separated, in order that the head itself may be well brushed, as by doing so the scurf is removed, and that is most essential, as it is not only unpleasant and unsightly, but if suffered to remain it becomes saturated with perspiration, and tends to weaken the roots of the hair, so that it is easily pulled out. in brushing or combing, begin at the extreme points, and in combing, hold the portion of hair just above that through which the comb is passing, firmly between the first and second fingers, so that if it is entangled it may drag from that point, and not from the roots. the finest head of hair may be spoiled by the practice of plunging the comb into it high up and dragging it in a reckless manner. short, loose, broken hairs are thus created, and become very troublesome. the use of hair oils. do not plaster the hair with oil or pomatum. a white, concrete oil pertains naturally to the covering of the human head, but some persons have it in more abundance than others. those whose hair is glossy and shining need nothing to render it so; but when the hair is harsh, poor and dry, artificial lubrication is necessary. persons who perspire freely, or who accumulate scurf rapidly, require it also. nothing is simpler or better in the way of oil than pure, unscented salad oil, and in the way of a pomatum, bear's grease is as pleasant as anything. apply either with the hands, or keep a soft brush for the purpose, but take care not to use the oil too freely. an overoiled head of hair is vulgar and offensive. so are scents of any kind in the oil applied to the hair. it is well also to keep a piece of flannel with which to rub the hair at night after brushing it, in order to remove the oil before laying the head upon the pillow. vinegar and water form a good wash for the roots of the hair. ammonia diluted in water is still better. the hair-brush should be frequently washed in diluted ammonia. for removing scurf, glycerine, diluted with a little rose-water, will be found of service. any preparation of rosemary forms an agreeable and highly cleansing wash. the yolk of an egg beaten up in warm water is an excellent application to the scalp. many heads of hair require nothing more in the way of wash than soap and water. beware of letting the hair grow too long, as the points are apt to weaken and split. it is well to have the ends clipped off once a month. young girls should wear their hair cut short until they are grown up, if they would have it then in its best condition. dyeing the hair. a serious objection to dyeing the hair is that it is almost impossible to give the hair a tint which harmonizes with the complexion. if the hair begins to change early, and the color goes in patches, procure from the druggist's a preparation of the husk of the walnut water of _eau crayon_. this will, by daily application, darken the tint of the hair without actually dyeing it. when the change of color has gone on to any great extent, it is better to abandon the application and put up with the change, which, in nine cases out of ten, will be in accordance with the change of the face. indeed, there is nothing more beautiful than soft, white hair worn in bands or clustering curls about the face. the walnut water may be used for toning down too red hair. baldness. gentlemen are more liable to baldness than ladies, owing, no doubt, to the use of the close hat, which confines and overheats the head. if the hair is found to be falling out, the first thing to do is to look to the hat and see that it is light and thoroughly ventilated. there is no greater enemy to the hair than the silk dress-hat. it is best to lay this hat aside altogether and adopt a light felt or straw in its place. long, flowing hair on a man is not in good taste, and will indicate him to the observer as a person of unbalanced mind and unpleasantly erratic character--a man, in brief, who seeks to impress others with the fact that he is eccentric, something which a really eccentric person never attempts. the beard. those who shave should be careful to do so every morning. nothing looks worse than a shabby beard. some persons whose beards are strong should shave twice a day, especially if they are going to a party in the evening. the style of the growth of the beard should be governed by the character of the face. but whatever the style be, the great point is to keep it well brushed and trimmed, and to avoid any appearance of wildness or inattention. the full, flowing beard of course requires more looking after in the way of cleanliness, than any other. it should be thoroughly washed and brushed at least twice a day, as dust is sure to accumulate in it, and it is very easy to suffer it to become objectionable to one's self as well as to others. if it is naturally glossy, it is better to avoid the use of oil or pomatum. the moustache should be worn neatly and not over-large. there is nothing that so adds to native manliness as the full beard if carefully and neatly kept. the hand. the beautiful hand is long and slender, with tapering fingers and pink, filbert-shaped nails. the hand to be in proper proportion to the rest of the body, should be as long as from the point of the chin to the edge of the hair on the forehead. the hands should be kept scrupulously clean, and therefore should be very frequently washed--not merely rinsed in soap and water, but thoroughly lathered, and scrubbed with a soft nail-brush. in cold weather the use of lukewarm water is unobjectionable, after which the hands should be dipped into cold water and very carefully dried on a fine towel. be careful always to dry the hands thoroughly, and rub them briskly for some time afterward. when this is not sufficiently attended to in cold weather, the hands chap and crack. when this occurs, rub a few drops of honey over them when dry, or anoint them with cold cream or glycerine before going to bed. chapped hands. as cold weather is the usual cause of chapped hands, so the winter season brings with it a cure for them. a thorough washing in snow and soap will cure the worst case of chapped hands, and leave them beautifully soft. to make the hands white and delicate. should you wish to make your hands white and delicate, you might wash them in milk and water for a day or two. on retiring to rest, rub them well over with some palm oil and put on a pair of woolen gloves. the hands should be thoroughly washed with hot water and soap the next morning, and a pair of soft leather gloves worn during the day. they should be frequently rubbed together to promote circulation. sunburnt hands may be washed in lime-water or lemon-juice. treatment of warts. warts, which are more common with young people than with adults, are very unsightly, and are sometimes very difficult to get rid of. the best plan is to buy a stick of lunar caustic, which is sold in a holder and case at the druggist's for the purpose, dip it in water, and touch the wart every morning and evening, care being taken to cut away the withered skin before repeating the operation. a still better plan is to apply acetic acid gently once a day with a camel's hair pencil to the summit of the wart. care should be taken not to allow this acid to touch any of the surrounding skin; to prevent this the finger or hand at the base of the wart may be covered with wax during the operation. the nails. nothing is so repulsive as to see a lady or gentleman, however well dressed they may otherwise be, with unclean nails. it always results from carelessness and inattention to the minor details of the toilet, which is most reprehensible. the nails should be cut about once a week--certainly not oftener. this should be accomplished just after washing, the nail being softer at such a time. care should be taken not to cut them too short, though, if they are left too long, they will frequently get torn and broken. they should be nicely rounded at the corners. recollect the filbert-shaped nail is considered the most beautiful. never bite the nails; it not only is a most disagreeable habit, but tends to make the nails jagged, deformed and difficult to clean, besides gives a red and stumpy appearance to the finger-tips. some persons are troubled by the cuticle adhering to the nail as it grows. this may be pressed down by the towel after washing; or should that not prove efficacious, it must be loosened round the edge with some blunt instrument. on no account scrape the nails with a view to polishing their surface. such an operation only tends to make them wrinkled. absolute smallness of hand is not essential to beauty, which requires that the proper proportions should be observed in the human figure. with proper care the hand may be retained beautiful, soft and shapely, and yet perform its fair share of labor. the hands should always be protected by gloves when engaged in work calculated to injure them. gloves are imperatively required for garden-work. the hands should always be washed carefully and dried thoroughly after such labor. if they are roughened by soap, rinse them in a little vinegar or lemon-juice, and they will become soft and smooth at once. remedy for moist hands. people afflicted with moist hands should revolutionize their habits, take more out-door exercise and more frequent baths. they should adopt a nutritious but not over-stimulating diet, and perhaps take a tonic of some sort. local applications of starch-powder and the juice of lemon may be used to advantage. the feet. a well formed foot is broad at the sole, the toes well spread, each separate toe perfect and rounded in form. the nails are regular and perfect in shape as those of the fingers. the second toe projects a little beyond the others, and the first, or big toe, stands slightly apart from the rest and is slightly lifted. the feet, from the circumstance of their being so much confined by boots and shoes, require more care in washing than the rest of the body. yet they do not always get this care. the hands receive frequent washings every day. once a week is quite as often as many people can bestow the same attention upon their feet. a tepid bath at about or degrees, should be used. the feet may remain in the water about five minutes, and the instant they are taken out they should be rapidly and thoroughly dried by being well rubbed with a coarse towel. sometimes bran is used in the water. few things are more invigorating and refreshing after a long walk, or getting wet in the feet, than a tepid foot-bath, clean stockings and a pair of easy shoes. after the bath is the time for paring the toe-nails, as they are so much softer and more pliant after having been immersed in warm water. treatment for moist or damp feet. some persons are troubled with moist or damp feet. this complaint arises more particularly during the hot weather in summer-time, and the greatest care and cleanliness should be exercised in respect to it. persons so afflicted should wash their feet twice a day in soap and warm water, after which they should put on clean socks. should this fail to cure, they may, after being washed as above, be rinsed, and then thoroughly rubbed with a mixture consisting of half a pint of warm water and three tablespoonfuls of concentrated solution of chloride of soda. blisters on the feet. people who walk much are frequently afflicted with blisters. the best preventative of these is to have easy, well-fitting boots and woolen socks. should blisters occur, a very good plan is to pass a large darning-needle threaded with worsted through the blister lengthwise, leaving an inch or so of the thread outside at each end. this keeps the scurf-skin close to the true skin, and prevents any grit or dirt entering. the thread absorbs the matter, and the old skin remains until the new one grows. a blister should not be punctured save in this manner, as it may degenerate into a sore and become very troublesome. chilblains. to avoid chilblains on the feet it is necessary to observe three rules: . avoid getting the feet wet; if they become so, change the shoes and stockings at once. . wear lamb's wool socks or stockings. . never under any circumstances "toast your toes" before the fire, especially if you are very cold. frequent bathing of the feet in a strong solution of alum is useful in preventing the coming of chilblains. on the first indication of any redness of the toes and sensation of itching it would be well to rub them carefully with warm spirits of rosemary, to which a little turpentine has been added. then a piece of lint soaked in camphorated spirits, opodeldoc or camphor liniment may be applied and retained on the part. should the chilblain break, dress it twice daily with a plaster of equal parts of lard and beeswax, with half the quantity in weight of oil of turpentine. the toe nails. the toe-nails do not grow so fast as the finger-nails, but they should be looked after and trimmed at least once a fortnight. they are much more subject to irregularity of growth than the finger-nails, owing to their confined position. if the nails show a tendency to grow in at the sides, the feet should be bathed in hot water, pieces of lint introduced beneath the parts with an inward tendency, and the nail itself scraped longitudinally. pare the toe-nails squarer than those of the fingers. keep them a moderate length--long enough to protect the toe, but not so long as to cut holes in the stockings. always cut the nails; never tear them, as is too frequently the practice. be careful not to destroy the spongy substance below the nails, as that is the great guard to prevent them going into the quick. corns. it is tolerably safe to say that those who wear loose, easy-fitting shoes and boots will never be troubled with corns. some people are more liable to corns than others, and some will persist in the use of tightly-fitting shoes in spite of corns. how to have shoes made. the great fault with modern shoes is that their soles are made too narrow. if one would secure perfect healthfulness of the feet, he should go to the shoemaker and step with his stockinged feet on a sheet of paper. let the shoemaker mark with a pencil upon the paper the exact size of his foot, and then make him a shoe whose sole shall be as broad as this outlined foot. still more destructive of the beauty and symmetry of our women's feet have been the high, narrow heels so much worn lately. they make it difficult to walk, and even in some cases permanently cripple the feet. a shoe, to be comfortable, should have a broad sole and a heel of moderate height, say one-half an inch, as broad at the bottom as at the top. [illustration] chapter xxxiii. toilet recipes. to remove freckles. bruise and squeeze the juice out of common chick-weed, and to this juice add three times its quantity of soft water. bathe the skin with this for five or ten minutes morning and evening, and wash afterwards with clean water. elder flowers treated and applied exactly in the same manner as above. when the flowers are not to be had, the distilled water from them, which may be procured from any druggist, will answer the purpose. a good freckle lotion is made of honey, one ounce, mixed with one pint of lukewarm water. apply when cold. carbonate of potassa, twenty grains; milk of almonds, three ounces; oil of sassafras, three drops. mix and apply two or three times a day. one ounce of alcohol; half a dram salts tartar; one dram oil bitter almonds. let stand for one day and apply every second day. for pimples on the face. wash the face in a solution composed of one teaspoonful of carbolic acid to a pint of water. this is an excellent purifying lotion, and may be used on the most delicate skin. be careful not to get any of it in the eyes as it will weaken them. one tablespoonful of borax to half a pint of water is an excellent remedy for cutaneous eruptions, canker, ringworm, etc. pulverize a piece of alum the size of a walnut, dissolve it in one ounce of lemon juice, and add one ounce of alcohol. apply once or twice a day. mix two ounces of rose-water with one dram of sulphate of zinc. wet the face gently and let it dry. then touch the affected part with cream. wash for the complexion. a teaspoonful of the flour of sulphur and a wine-glassful of lime-water, well shaken and mixed; half a wine-glass of glycerine and a wine-glass of rose water. rub it on the face every night before going to bed. shake well before using. another prescription, used by hunters to keep away the black flies and mosquitoes, is said to leave the skin very clear and fair, and is as follows: mix one spoonful of the best tar in a pint of pure olive oil or almond oil, by heating the two together in a tin cup set in boiling water. stir till completely mixed and smooth, putting in more oil if the compound is too thick to run easily. rub this on the face when going to bed, and lay patches of soft cloth on the cheeks and forehead to keep the tar from rubbing off. the bed linen must be protected by cloth folded and thrown over the pillows. the whites of four eggs boiled in rose-water; half an ounce of alum; half an ounce of sweet almonds; beat the whole together until it assumes the consistency of paste. spread upon a silk or muslin mask, to be worn at night. take a small piece of the gum benzoin and boil it in spirits of wine till it becomes a rich tincture. in using it pour fifteen drops into a glass of water, wash the face and hands and allow it to dry. boracic acid for skin diseases. boracic acid has been used with great success as an external application in the treatment of vegetable parasitic diseases of the skin. a solution of a dram of the acid to an ounce of water, or as much of the acid as the water will take up, is found to meet the requirements of the case satisfactorily. the affected parts should be well bathed in the solution twice a day and well rubbed. to soften the skin. mix half an ounce of glycerine with half an ounce of alcohol, and add four ounces of rose-water. shake well together and it is ready for use. this is a splendid remedy for chapped hands. remedy for ringworm. apply a solution of the root of common narrow-leafed dock, which belongs to the botanical genus of _rumex_. use vinegar for the solvent. dissolve a piece of sulphate of potash, the size of a walnut, in one ounce of water. apply night and morning for a couple of days, and it will disappear. to remove sunburn. take two drams of borax, one dram of alum, one dram of camphor, half an ounce of sugar-candy, and a pound of ox-gall. mix and stir well for ten minutes, and stir it three or four times a fortnight. when clear and transparent, strain through a blotting paper and bottle for use. to prevent hair falling out. ammonia one ounce, rosemary one ounce, cantharides four drams, rose-water four ounces, glycerine one ounce. first wet the head with cold water, then apply the mixture, rubbing briskly. vinegar of cantharides half an ounce, eau-de-cologne one ounce, rose-water one ounce. the scalp should be brushed briskly until it becomes red, and the lotion should then be applied to the roots of the hair twice a day. to beautify the hair. take two ounces of olive oil, four ounces of good bay rum, and one dram of the oil of almonds; mix and shake well. this will darken the hair. hair oils. mix two ounces of castor oil with three ounces of alcohol, and add two ounces of olive oil. perfume to liking. to make pomades for the hair. take the marrow out of a beef shank bone, melt it in a vessel placed over or in boiling water, then strain and scent to liking, with ottar of roses or other perfume. unsalted lard five ounces, olive oil two and a half ounces, castor oil one-quarter ounce, yellow wax and spermaceti one-quarter ounce. these ingredients are to be liquified over a warm bath, and when cool, perfume to liking. fresh beef marrow, boiled with a little almond oil or sweet oil, and scented with ottar of roses or other mild perfume. a transparent hair pomade is made as follows: take half a pint of fine castor oil and an ounce of white wax. stir until it gets cool enough to thicken, when perfume may be stirred in; geranium, bergamot or lemon oil may be used. german method of treating the hair. the women of germany have remarkably fine and luxuriant hair. the following is their method of managing it: about once in two or three weeks, boil for half an hour or more a large handful of bran in a quart of soft water; strain into a basin, and when tepid, rub into the water a little white soap. with this wash the head thoroughly, using a soft linen cloth or towel, thoroughly dividing the hair so as to reach the roots. then take the yolk of an egg, slightly beaten in a saucer, and with the fingers rub it into the roots of the hair. let it remain a few minutes, and then wash it off entirely with a cloth dipped in pure water. rinse the head well till the yolk of the egg has disappeared from it, then wipe and rub it dry with a towel, and comb the hair from the head, parting it with the fingers, then apply some soft pomatum. in winter it is best to do all this in a warm room. to keep the hair from turning grey. take the hulls of butternuts, about four ounces, and infuse in a quart of water, and to this add half an ounce of copperas. apply with a soft brush every two or three days. this preparation is harmless, and is far better than those dyes made of nitrate of silver. oxide of bismuth four drams, spermaceti four drams, pure hog's lard four ounces. melt the two last and add the first. to cleanse the hair and scalp. beat up a fresh egg and rub it well into the hair, or if more convenient, rub it into the hair without beating. rub the egg in until a lather is formed, occasionally wetting the hands in warm water softened by borax. by the time a lather is formed, the scalp is clean, then rinse the egg all out in a basin of warm water, containing a tablespoonful of powdered borax: after that rinse in a basin of clean water. hair wash. bay rum six ounces, aromatic spirits of ammonia half an ounce, bergamot oil six drops. mix. to make the hair grow. if the head be perfectly bald, nothing will ever cause the hair to grow again. if the scalp be glossy, and no small hairs are discernible, the roots or follicles are dead, and can not be resuscitated. however if small hairs are to be seen, there is hope. brush well, and bathe the bald spot three or four times a week with cold, soft water; carbonate of ammonia one dram, tincture of cantharides four drams, bay rum four ounces, castor oil two ounces. mix well and use it every day. sea foam or dry shampoo. take a pint of alcohol, half pint of bay rum, and half an ounce of spirits of ammonia, and one dram of salts tartar. shake well together and it is ready for use. pour a quantity on the head, rub well with the palm of the hand. it will produce a thick foam, and will cleanse the scalp. this is used generally by first-class barbers. barber's shampoo. to one pint of warm water add half an ounce of salts tartar. cut up very fine a piece of castile soap, the size of two crackers, and mix it, shaking the mixture well, and it is ready for use. cleaning gold jewelry. gold ornaments may be kept bright and clean with soap and warm water, scrubbing them well with a soft nail brush. they may be dried in sawdust of box-wood. imitation jewelry may be treated in the same way. to loosen stoppers of toilet bottles. let a drop of pure oil flow round the stopper and let the bottle stand a foot or two from the fire. after a time tap the stopper smartly, but not too hard, with the handle of a hair brush. if this is not effectual, use a fresh drop of oil and repeat the process. it is almost sure to succeed. to make bandoline. half a pint of water, rectified spirits with an equal quantity of water three ounces, gum tragacanth one and a half drams. add perfume, let the mixture stand for a day or two and then strain. simmer an ounce of quince seed in a quart of water for forty minutes, strain, cool, add a few drops of scent, and bottle, corking tightly. iceland moss one-fourth of an ounce, boiled in a quart of water, and a little rectified spirit added, so that it will keep. to make lip-salve. melt in a jar placed in a basin of boiling water a quarter of an ounce each of white wax and spermaceti, flour of benzoin fifteen grains, and half an ounce of the oil of almonds. stir till the mixture is cool. color red with alkanet root. to clean kid boots. mix a little white of egg and ink in a bottle, so that the composition may be well shaken up when required for use. apply to the kid with a piece of sponge and rub dry. the best thing to rub dry with is the palm of the hand. when the kid shows symptoms of cracking, rub in a few drops of sweet oil. the soles and heels should be polished with common blacking. to clean patent-leather boots. in cleaning patent-leather boots, first remove all the dirt upon them with a sponge or flannel; then the boot should be rubbed lightly over with a paste consisting of two spoonfuls of cream and one of linseed oil, both of which require to be warmed before being mixed. polish with a soft cloth. to remove stains and spots from silk. boil five ounces of soft water and six ounces of powdered alum for a short time, and pour it into a vessel to cool. warm it for use, and wash the stained part with it and leave dry. wash the soiled part with ether, and the grease will disappear. we often find that lemon-juice, vinegar, oil of vitriol and other sharp corrosives, stain dyed garments. sometimes, by adding a little pearlash to a soap-lather and passing the silks through these, the faded color will be restored. pearlash and warm water will sometimes do alone, but it is the most efficacious to use the soap-lather and pearlash together. toothache preventive. use flower of sulphur as a tooth powder every night, rubbing the teeth and gums with a rather hard toothbrush. if done after dinner, too, all the better. it preserves the teeth and does not communicate any smell whatever to the mouth. how to whiten linen. stains occasioned by fruit, iron rust and other similar causes may be removed by applying to the parts injured a weak solution of the chloride of lime, the cloth having been previously well washed. the parts subjected to this operation should be subsequently rinsed in soft, clear, warm water, without soap, and be immediately dried in the sun. oxalic acid diluted with water will accomplish the same end. to take stains out of silk. mix together in a vial two ounces of essence of lemon and one ounce of oil of turpentine. grease and other spots in silk must be rubbed gently with a linen rag dipped in the above composition. to remove acid stains from silks, apply with a soft rag, spirits of ammonia. to remove stains from white cotton goods. for mildew, rub in salt and some buttermilk, and expose it to the influence of a hot sun. chalk and soap or lemon juice and salt are also good. as fast as the spots become dry, more should be rubbed on, and the garment should be kept in the sun until the spots disappear. some one of the preceding things will extract most kinds of stains, but a hot sun is necessary to render any one of them effectual. scalding water will remove fruit stains. so also will hartshorn diluted with warm water, but it will be necessary to apply it several times. common salt rubbed on fruit stains before they become dry will extract them. colored cotton goods that have ink spilled on them, should be soaked in lukewarm sour milk. to remove spots of pitch or tar. scrape off all the pitch or tar you can, then saturate the spots with sweet oil or lard; rub it in well, and let it remain in a warm place for an hour. to extract paint from garments. saturate the spot with spirits of turpentine, let it remain a number of hours, then rub it between the hands; it will crumble away without injury either to the texture or color of any kind of woolen, cotton or silk goods. to clean silks and ribbons. take equal quantities of soft lye-soap, alcohol or gin, and molasses. put the silk on a clean table without creasing; rub on the mixture with a flannel cloth. rinse the silk well in cold, clear water, and hang it up to dry without wringing. iron it before it gets dry, on the wrong side. silks and ribbons treated in this way will look very nicely. camphene will extract grease and clean ribbons without changing the color of most things. they should be dried in the open air and ironed when pretty dry. the water in which pared potatoes have been boiled is very good to wash black silks in; it stiffens and makes them glossy and black. soap-suds answer very well. they should be washed in two suds and not rinsed in clean water. remedy for burnt kid or leather shoes. if a lady has had the misfortune to put her shoes or slippers too near the stove, and thus had them burned, she can make them nearly as good as ever by spreading soft-soap upon them while they are still hot, and then, when they are cold, washing it off. it softens the leather and prevents it drawing up. remedy for corns. soak the feet for half an hour two or three nights successively in a pretty strong solution of common soda. the alkali dissolves the indurated cuticle and the corn comes away, leaving a little cavity which, however, soon fills up. corns between the toes are generally more painful than others, and are frequently so situated as to be almost inaccessible to the usual remedies. they may be cured by wetting them several times a day with spirits of ammonia. inflamed eyelids. take a slice of stale bread, cut as thin as possible, toast both sides well, but do not burn it; when cold soak it in cold water, then put it between a piece of old linen and apply, changing when it gets warm. to make cold cream. melt in a jar two ounces of white wax, half an ounce of spermaceti, and mix with a pint of sweet oil. add perfume to suit. melt together an ounce of white wax, half an ounce of spermaceti, and mix with a pint of oil of sweet almonds and half a pint of rose-water. beat to a paste. to make rose-water. take half an ounce of powdered white sugar and two drams of magnesia. with these mix twelve drops of ottar of roses. add a quart of water, two ounces of alcohol, mix in a gradual manner, and filter through blotting paper. how to wash laces. take a quart bottle and cover it over with the leg of a soft, firm stocking, sew it tightly above and below. then wind the collar or lace smoothly around the covered bottle; take a fine needle and thread and sew very carefully around the outer edge of the collar or lace, catching every loop fast to the stocking. then shake the bottle up and down in a pailful of warm soap-suds, occasionally rubbing the soiled places with a soft sponge. it must be rinsed well after the same manner in clean water. when the lace is clean, apply a very weak solution of gum arabic and stand the bottle in the sunshine to dry. take off the lace very carefully when perfectly dry. instead of ironing, lay it between the white leaves of a heavy book; or, if you are in a hurry, iron on flannel between a few thicknesses of fine muslin. done up in this way, lace collars will wear longer, stay clean longer, and have a rich, new, lacy look that they will not have otherwise. how to darken faded false hair. the switches, curls and frizzes which fashion demands should be worn, will fade in course of time; and though they matched the natural hair perfectly at first, they will finally present a lighter tint. if the hair is brown this can be remedied. obtain a yard of dark brown calico. boil it until the color has well come out into the water. then into this water dip the hair, and take it out and dry it. repeat the operation until it shall be of the required depth of shade. putting away furs for the summer. when you are ready to put away furs and woolens, and want to guard against the depredations of moths, pack them securely in paper flour sacks and tie them up well. this is better than camphor or tobacco or snuff scattered among them in chests and drawers. before putting your muffs away for the summer, twirl them by the cord at the ends, so that every hair will straighten. put them in their boxes and paste a strip of paper where the lid fits on. to keep the hair in curl. to keep the hair in curl take a few quince-seed, boil them in water, and add perfumery if you like; wet the hair with this and it will keep in curl longer than from the use of any other preparation. it is also good to keep the hair in place on the forehead on going out in the wind. protection against moths. dissolve two ounces of camphor in half a pint each of alcohol and spirits of turpentine; keep in a stone bottle and shake before using. dip blotting paper in the liquid, and place in the box with the articles to be preserved. to take mildew out of linen. wet the linen in soft water, rub it well with white soap, then scrape some fine chalk to powder, and rub it well into the linen; lay it out on the grass in the sunshine, watching to keep it damp with soft water. repeat the process the next day, and in a few hours the mildew will entirely disappear. cure for in-growing nails on toes. take a little tallow and put it into a spoon, and heat it over a lamp until it becomes very hot; then pour it on the sore or granulation. the effect will be almost magical. the pain and tenderness will at once be relieved. the operation causes very little pain if the tallow is perfectly heated. perhaps a repetition may be necessary in some cases. to remove grease-spots from woolen cloth. take one quart of spirits of wine or alcohol, twelve drops of winter green, one gill of beef-gall and six cents' worth of lavendar. a little alkanet to color if you wish. mix. to clean woolen cloth. take equal parts of spirits hartshorn and ether. ox-gall mixed with it makes it better. to take ink-spots from linen. take a piece of mould candle of the finest kind, melt it, and dip the spotted part of the linen in the melted tallow: then throw the linen into the wash. to remove fruit-stains. moisten the parts stained with cold water; then hold it over the smoke of burning brimstone, and the stain will disappear. this will remove iron mould also. cleaning silver. for cleaning silver, either articles of personal wear or those pertaining to the toilet-table or dressing-case, there is nothing better than a spoonful of common whiting, carefully pounded so as to be without lumps, reduced to a paste with gin. to remove grease spots. french chalk is useful for removing grease-spots from clothing. spots on silk will sometimes yield if a piece of blotting-paper is placed over them and the blade of a knife is heated (not too much) and passed over the paper. to remove a tight ring. when a ring happens to get so tight on a finger that it cannot be removed, a piece of string, well soaped, may be wound tightly round the finger, commencing at the end of the finger and continued until the ring is reached. then force the end of the twine between the ring and finger, and as the string is unwound, the ring will be gradually forced off. mosquitoes warded off. to ward off mosquitoes, apply to the skin a solution made of fifty drops of carbolic acid to an ounce of glycerine. mosquito bites may be instantly cured by touching them with the solution. add two or three drops of the ottar of roses to disguise the smell. the pure, crystalized form of the acid has a less powerful odor than the common preparation. liniment for the face after shaving. one ounce of lime water, one ounce of sweet oil, one drop oil of roses, is a good liniment for the face after shaving. shake well before using. apply with the forefinger. to remove sunburn. wash thoroughly with milk of almonds, which can be obtained at the drug store. to whiten the finger nails. take two drams of dilute sulphuric acid, one dram of the tincture of myrrh, four ounces of spring water, and mix in a bottle. after washing the hands, dip the fingers in a little of the mixture. rings with stones or pearls in them should be removed before using this mixture. to remove tan. tan can be removed from the face by dissolving magnesia in soft water. beat it to a thick mass, spread it on the face, and let it remain a minute or two. then wash off with castile soapsuds and rinse with soft water. to cure warts. take a piece of raw beef steeped in vinegar for twenty-four hours, tie it on the part affected. apply each night for two weeks. remedy for in-growing toe-nails. the best remedy for in-growing toe-nails is to cut a notch about the shape of a v in the end of the nail, about one-quarter the width of the nail from the in-growing side. cut down as nearly to the quick as possible, and one-third the length of the nail. the pressure of the boot or shoe will tend to close the opening you have made in the nail, and this soon affords relief. allow the in-growing portion of the nail to grow without cutting it, until it gets beyond the flesh. to remove wrinkles. melt one ounce of white wax, add two ounces of juice of lily-bulbs, two ounces of honey, two drams of rose-water, and a drop or two of ottar of roses. use it twice a day. put powder of best myrrh upon an iron plate sufficiently hot to melt the gum gently, and when it liquefies, cover over your head with a napkin, and hold your face over the fumes at a distance that will cause you no inconvenience. if it produces headache, discontinue its use. in washing, use warm instead of cold water. remedy for chapped hands. after washing with soap, rinse the hands in fresh water and dry them thoroughly, by applying indian meal or rice flour. lemon-juice three ounces, white wine vinegar three ounces, and white brandy half a pint. add ten drops of carbolic acid to one ounce of glycerine, and apply freely at night. to cure chilblains. two tablespoonfuls of lime water mixed with enough sweet oil to make it as thick as lard. rub the chilblains with the mixture and dry it in, then wrap up in linen. bathe the chilblains in strong alum water, as hot as it can be borne. when indications of the chilblains first present themselves, take vinegar three ounces and camphorated spirits of wine one ounce; mix and rub on the parts affected. bathe the feet in warm water, in which two or three handsful of common salt have been dissolved. rub with a raw onion dipped in salt. hair restorative. the oil of mace one-half ounce, mixed with a pint of deodorized alcohol, is a powerful stimulant for the hair. to apply it, pour a spoonful or two into a saucer, dip a stiff brush into it and brush the hair and head smartly. on bald heads, if hair will start at all, it may be stimulated by friction with a piece of flannel till the skin becomes red. repeat this process three times a day, until the hair begins to grow, when the tincture may be applied but once a day, till the growth is well established. the head should be bathed in cold water every morning, and briskly brushed to bring the blood to the surface. wash for the teeth. dissolve two ounces of borax in three pints of warm water. before the water is quite cold, add one teaspoonful of spirits of camphor. bottle the mixture for use. one wine-glass of the mixture, added to half a pint of tepid water, is sufficient for each application. this solution used daily, beautifies and preserves the teeth. foe whitening the hands. a wine-glass of cologne and one of lemon-juice strained clear. scrape two cakes of brown windsor soap to a powder and mix well in a mould. when hard, it is fit for use, and will be found excellent for whitening the hands. wear during the night, large cloth mittens filled with wet bran or oatmeal, and tied closely at the wrist. persons who have a great deal of house-work to do, may keep their hands soft and white by wearing bran or oatmeal mittens. to reduce the flesh. a strong decoction of sassafras, drank frequently, will reduce the flesh as rapidly as any remedy known. a strong infusion is made at the rate of an ounce of sassafras to a quart of water. boil it half an hour very slowly, and let it stand till cold, heating again if desired. keep it from the air. smooth and soft hands. a few drops of glycerine thoroughly rubbed over the hands, after washing them, will keep them smooth and soft. to make tincture of roses. take the leaves of the common rose and place, without pressing them, in a glass bottle, then pour some spirits of wine on them, close the bottle and let it stand till required for use. its perfume is nearly equal to that of ottar of roses. soft corns. a weak solution of carbolic acid will heal soft corns between the toes. burned eyebrows. five grains sulphate of quinine dissolved in an ounce of alcohol, will, if applied, cause eyebrows to grow when burned off by the fire. to restore gray hair. a recipe for restoring gray hair to its natural color, said to be very effective when the hair is changing color, is as follows: one pint of water, one ounce tincture of acetate of iron, half an ounce of glycerine, and five grains sulphuret potassium. mix and let the bottle stand open until the smell of the potassium has disappeared, then add a few drops of ottar of roses. rub a little into the hair daily, and it will restore its color and benefit the health. bathing the head in a strong solution of rock salt, is said to restore gray hair in some cases. make the solution two heaping tablespoonfuls of salt to a quart of boiling water, and let it stand until cold before using. a solution made of a tablespoonful of carbonate of ammonia to a quart of water is also recommended, wash the head thoroughly with the solution and brush the hair while wet. to take stains out of silks. make a solution of two ounces of essence of lemon, and one ounce oil of turpentine. rub the silk gently with linen cloth, dipped in the solution. to remove acid stains from silk, apply spirits of ammonia with a soft rag. to take ink-spots from linen. dip the spotted part of the linen in clean, pure melted tallow, before being washed. to remove discoloration by bruising. apply to the bruise a cloth wrung out of very hot water, and renew frequently until the pain ceases. to clean kid gloves. make a solution of one quart of distilled benzine with one-fourth of an ounce of carbonate of ammonia, one-fourth of an ounce of fluid chloroform, one-fourth of an ounce of sulphuric ether. pour a small quantity into a saucer, put on the gloves, and wash, as if washing the hands, changing the solution until the gloves are clean. rub them clean and as dry as possible with a clean dry cloth, and take them off and hang them where there is a good current of air to dry. this solution is also excellent for cleaning ribbons, silks, etc., and is perfectly harmless to the most delicate tints. do not get near the fire when using, as the benzine is very inflammable. washing the gloves in turpentine, the same as above, is also a good means of cleaning them. perspiration. to remove the unpleasant odor produced by perspiration, put two tablespoonfuls of the compound spirit of ammonia in a basin of water, and use it for bathing. it leaves the skin clear, sweet and fresh as one could wish. it is perfectly harmless, very cheap, and is recommended on the authority of an experienced physician. to remove flesh worms. flesh worms, or little black specks, which appear on the nose, may be removed by washing in warm water, drying with a towel, and applying a wash of cologne and liquor of potash, made of three ounces of the former to one ounce of the latter. chapped lips. oil of roses four ounces, white wax one ounce, spermaceti half an ounce; melt in a glass vessel, stirring with a wooden spoon, and pour into a china or glass cup. recipes for the care of the teeth. a remedy for unsound gums, is a gargle made of one ounce of coarsely powdered peruvian bark steeped in half a pint of brandy for two weeks. put a teaspoonful of this into a tablespoonful of water, and gargle the mouth twice a day. the ashes of stale bread, thoroughly burned, is said to make a good dentifrice. the teeth should be carefully brushed after every meal, as a means of preserving a sweet breath. in addition, a small piece of licorice may be dissolved in the mouth, which corrects the effects of indigestion. licorice has no smell, but simply corrects ill-flavored odor. a good way to clean teeth is to dip the brush in water, rub it over white castile soap, then dip it in prepared chalk, and brush the teeth briskly. to beautify the teeth, dissolve two ounces of borax in three pints of boiling water, and before it is cold, add one teaspoonful of spirits of camphor; bottle for use. use a teaspoonful of this with an equal quantity of warm water. to make cold cream. five ounces oil of sweet almonds, three ounces spermaceti, half an ounce of white wax, and three to five drops ottar of roses. melt together in a shallow dish over hot water. strain through a piece of muslin when melted, and as it begins to cool, beat it with a silver spoon until cold and snowy white. for the hair use seven ounces of oil of almonds instead of five. remedy for black teeth. take equal parts of cream of tartar and salt, pulverize it and mix it well. wash the teeth in the morning and rub them well with the powder. to cleanse the teeth and gums. take an ounce of myrrh in fine powder, two tablespoonfuls of honey, and a little green sage in very fine powder; mix them well together, and wet the teeth and gums with a little, twice a day. [illustration] chapter xxxiv. sports, games, amusements. there is a great variety of games, sports and amusements for both out-door and in-door entertainment, in which both sexes mingle for pleasure, and brief mention is here made of some of these. archery. the interest that has been recently awakened in this country in archery, is worthy of mention. as a graceful, healthful and innocent sport, it has no equal among any of the games that have been introduced, where both sexes participate. our young and middle aged ladies too often neglect out-door physical exertion, which is essential to acquiring strength of limbs and muscle, and a gracefulness of carriage which is dependent thereon. it is a mistaken idea that with youth all indulgence in physical recreation should cease. on the contrary, such exercises as are most conducive to health, and are attended with pleasure, might with propriety be kept up by young women as well as by young men, as a means of retaining strength and elasticity of the muscles; and, instead of weak, trembling frames and broken down constitutions, in the prime of life, a bright, vigorous old age would be the reward. the pursuit of archery is recommended to both young and old, male and female, as having advantages far superior to any of the out-door games and exercises, as a graceful and invigorating pastime, developing in ladies a strong constitution, perfection of sight at long range, and above all, imparting to the figure a graceful appearance and perfect action of the limbs and chest. let the women of this country devote some of their spare hours to this pleasant, health-giving sport, and their reward will be bright, ruddy faces, elasticity of movement, and strong and vigorous constitutions. implements for archery. for the purposes of archery, the implements required are the bow, arrows, targets, a quiver pouch and belt, an arm-guard or brace, a shooting glove or finger tip, and a scoring card. the bow is from five to six feet long, made of lancewood or locust. spanish yew is considered the choicest, next comes the italian, then the english yew; lancewood and lancewood backed with hickory are used more than any other. in choosing a bow, get the best you can afford, it will prove the cheapest in the end. men should use bows six feet long, pulling from forty to sixty pounds, and ladies bows of five feet or five feet six inches in length, and pulling from twenty-five to forty pounds. the arrows are generally of uniform thickness throughout, and are made of pine; the finest grades being made of white deal, with sharp points of iron or brass. they are from to inches in length. the quiver belt is worn round the waist, and contains the arrows which are being used. the arm is protected from the blow of the string by the "arm-guard," a broad guard of strong leather buckled on the left wrist by two straps. a shooting-glove is worn on the right hand to protect the fingers from soreness in drawing the string of the bow. the target consists of a circular, thick mat of straw, from two to four feet in diameter, covered with canvas, painted in a series of circles. the inner circle is a gold color, then comes red, white, black, and the outer circle white. the score for a gold hit is nine; the red , the inner white ; the black , and the outer white . the use of the bow and arrows, the proper manner of holding them, and directions for shooting are to be found in pamphlets of instruction, which often accompany the implements. archery clubs and practice. in many cities and villages throughout the country, clubs have been formed, and regular days for practice and prize shooting are appointed. each member of the the club is expected to furnish his or her own implements, and to attend all the practice meetings and prize shootings. the clubs are about equally divided as to ladies and gentlemen, as both sexes participate equally in the sport. the officers are such as are usually chosen in all organizations, with the addition of a lady paramount, a scorer, and a field marshal. the lady paramount is the highest office of honor in the club. she is expected to act as an umpire or judge in all matters of dispute that may come up in the club, and her decisions must be regarded as final. she is also expected to do all in her power to further the interests of the organization. a field marshal has been appointed by some clubs, and his duties are to place the targets, measure the shooting distances, and have general supervision of the field on practice days. the scorer keeps a score of each individual member of the club. in meeting for practice, it is customary to have one target for every six, eight or ten persons, the latter number being sufficient for any one target. the targets are placed at any distance required, from thirty to one hundred yards; ladies being allowed an advantage of about one-fourth the distance in shooting. to beginners, a distance of from twenty-five to forty yards for gentlemen, and twenty to thirty for ladies, is sufficient, and this distance may be increased as practice is acquired. an equal number of ladies and gentlemen usually occupy one target, and each shoots a certain number of arrows as agreed upon, usually from three to six, a score being kept as the target is hit. after each person has shot the allotted number of arrows, it is regarded as an "end," and a certain number of ends, as agreed upon, constitute a "round." for prize shooting, the national archery association has established three rounds, known as the "york round," the "american round," and the "columbia round" (for ladies). the "york round" consists of arrows at yards, at yards, and at yards. the "american round" consists of arrows, each at , and yards respectively, and the "columbia round" (for ladies), arrows, each at , and yards respectively. a captain is appointed for each target, who designates a target scorer, and the gentleman who makes the largest score, is appointed captain of the target at the succeeding meeting. the target scorer, at the close of the round, hands the score to the official scorer, who announces the result at the next meeting of the club. some clubs have adopted the plan of having every alternate meeting for prize shooting, awarding some small token to the lady and gentleman who makes the highest scores. ladies' costume for archery may be more brilliant than for an ordinary walking dress, and are usually trimmed with green and gold color, and in many cases a green jacket is worn. the costumes are short enough for convenience in movement, and made so as to give free and easy movement of the arms. lawn-tennis. amongst all games, none, perhaps can so justly lay claim to the honor of antiquity as tennis. the ancient greeks played it, the romans knew it as _pila_, and ever since those days, with little intermission, the game has been played in many european countries. after a long season of rest, the game has now re-appeared in all the freshness of renewed youth. there are many points to be said to commend tennis. both ladies and gentlemen can join in the game, and often the palm will be borne off by the "weaker, yet fairer" sex. the exercise required to enjoy the game is not in any way of an exhausting character, and affords ladies a training in graceful and charming movements. lawn-tennis may be played either in summer or winter, and in cold weather, if the ground be dry, is a very agreeable out-door recreation. at a croquet or garden party it is certainly a desideratum. the requisites for playing lawn-tennis, are a lawn or level surface about by feet, as the "court" upon which the playing is done is by feet. a net four or five feet in height and feet long, divides the court. a ball made of india rubber and covered with cloth, and a "racket" for each player are the implements needed for playing. the racket is used for handling the ball, and is about two feet in length, with net work at the outer end, by means of which the ball is tossed from one place to another. rules for playing the game are obtained with the implements needed, which can be procured from dealers in such lines of goods. croquet. the game of croquet is played by opposite parties, of one or more on a side, each player being provided with a mallet and her own ball which are distinguished by their color. the players in their turn place their ball a mallet's length from the starting stake, and strike it with the mallet, the object being to pass it through the first one or two hoops. the turning or upper stake must be struck with the ball before the player can pass her ball through the returning hoops, and on returning to the starting point the ball must hit the starting stake before the player is the winner. the one who passes through all the hoops and gets her ball to the starting stake first is the winner. we do not give the rules of the game as each croquet set is accompanied by a complete set of rules. where four are playing, two of whom are gentlemen, one lady and gentleman usually play as partners. as it is the height of ill-manners to display any rudeness, no lady or gentleman will be so far forgetful as to become angry should the opposing parties be found "cheating." invitations to a croquet party may be of the same form as invitations to any other party. boating. where there is a sufficiently large body or stream of water to admit of it, boating is a very enjoyable recreation, which may be pursued by both ladies and gentlemen. there is much danger in sailing, and the proper management of a sail-boat requires considerable tact and experience. rowing is safer, but caution should be observed in not over-loading the boat. a gentleman should not invite ladies to ride on the water unless he is thoroughly capable of managing the boat. rowing is a healthful and delightful recreation, and many ladies become expert and skillful at it. every gentleman should have some knowledge of rowing, as it is easily acquired. if a gentleman who is inexperienced in rowing, goes out with other gentlemen in a boat, he should refrain from any attempt to row, as he will only display his awkwardness, and render the ride uncomfortable to his companions. in rowing with a friend, it is polite to offer him the "stroke" oar, which is the post of honor. when two gentlemen take a party of ladies out for a row, one stands in the boat to steady it and offer assistance to the ladies in getting seated, and the other aids from the wharf. a lady's dress for rowing should be one which will give perfect freedom to her arm; a short skirt, stout boots, and hat with sufficient brim to protect her face from the sun. picnics. while ladies and gentlemen never forget their good manners, and are always polite and courteous, yet at picnics they are privileged to relax many of the forms and ceremonies required by strict etiquette. here men and women mingle for a day of pleasure in the woods or fields, or on the water, and it is the part of all who attend to do what they can for their own and their neighbor's enjoyment. hence, formal introductions and other ceremonies need not stand in the way of enjoyment either by ladies or gentlemen, and at the same time no act of rudeness should occur to mar the pleasure of the occasion. it is the duty of gentlemen to do all they can to make the occasion enjoyable and even mirthful. they should also look to providing the means of conveyance to and from the spot selected for the festivities, make such arrangements as are necessary in the way of providing music, games, boats, and whatever else is needed to enhance the pleasure of the day. the ladies provide the luncheon or dinner, which is spread upon the grass or eaten out of their baskets, and at which the restraints of the table are withdrawn. at picnics, gentlemen become the servants as well as the escorts and guides of the ladies, and perform such services for ladies in the way of procuring flowers, carrying baskets, climbing trees, baiting their fish-hooks, and many other things as are requested of them. private theatricals. private theatricals may be made very pleasing and instructive entertainments for fall or winter evenings, among either young or married people. they include charades, proverbs, tableaux, dramatic readings, and the presentation of a short dramatical piece, and may successfully be given in the parlor or drawing room. the hostess seeks the aid of friends in the preparation of her arrangements, and if a drama has been determined upon, she assigns the various parts to each. her friends should aid her in her efforts by giving her all the assistance they can, and by willingly and good-naturedly complying with any request she may make, accepting the parts allotted to them, even if they are obscure or distasteful. they should endeavor to perform their part in any dramatical piece, tableau or charade as well as possible, and the success they achieve will determine how conspicuous a part they may be called upon to perform at a subsequent time. the hostess should consult each performer before alloting a part, and endeavor to suit each one. the host or hostess should not have any conspicuous part assigned them, unless it is urged by all the other performers. those who are to participate, should not only learn their parts, but endeavor to imbue themselves with the spirit of the character they personate, so as to afford pleasure to all who are invited to witness its performance. when persons have consented to participate in any such entertainment, only sickness or some very grave cause should prevent them from undertaking their part. supper or refreshments usually follow private theatricals, of which both the performers and invited guests are invited to partake, and the remainder of the evening is spent in social intercourse. etiquette of card playing. never urge any one who seems to be unwilling to play a game of cards. they may have conscientious scruples in the matter, which must be respected. if you have no scruples of conscience, it is not courteous to refuse, when a game cannot be made up without you. you may refuse to play if you do not understand the game thoroughly. if, however, you are urged to try, and your partner and opponents offer to instruct you, you may accede to their requests, for in so doing, you will acquire a better knowledge of the game. married and elderly people take precedence over young and unmarried people, in a game of cards. it is the privilege of the host and hostess to suggest cards as a means of amusement for the guests. the latter should never call for them. "whist" is a game of cards so-called, because it requires silence and close attention. therefore in playing this game, you must give your whole attention to the cards, and secure at least comparative silence. do not suggest or keep up any conversation during a game, which will distract your own mind or the mind of others from the game. never hurry any one who is playing. in endeavoring to play their best, they should take their own time, without interruption. betting at cards is vulgar, partakes of the nature of gambling, and should at all times be avoided. never finger the cards while they are being dealt, nor take up any of them until all are dealt out, when you may take your own cards and proceed to play. in large assemblies it is best to furnish the cards and tables, and allow guests to play or not, at their option, the host and hostess giving their assistance in seeking for people disposed to play, and in making up a game. in giving card parties, new cards should be provided on every occasion. [illustration] chapter xxxv. the language of flowers. how beautiful and yet how cheap are flowers! not exotics, but what are called common flowers. a rose, for instance, is among the most beautiful of the smiles of nature. the "laughing flowers," exclaims the poet. but there is more than gayety in blooming flowers, though it takes a wise man to see the beauty, the love, and the adaptation of which they are full. what should we think of one who had _invented_ flowers, supposing that, before him, flowers were unknown? would he not be regarded as the opener-up of a paradise of new delight? should we not hail the inventor as a genius, as a god? and yet these lovely offsprings of the earth have been speaking to man from the first dawn of his existence until now, telling him of the goodness and wisdom of the creative power, which bid the earth bring forth, not only that which was useful as food, but also flowers, the bright consummate flowers to clothe it in beauty and joy! [illustration: flowers. "the meanest flower that blows, can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."] bring one of the commonest field-flowers into a room, place it on a table, or chimney-piece, and you seem to have brought a ray of sunshine into the place. there is a cheerfulness about flowers. what a delight are they to the drooping invalid! they are a sweet enjoyment, coming as messengers from the country, and seeming to say, "come and see the place where we grow, and let your heart be glad in our presence." there is a sentiment attached to flowers, and this sentiment has been expressed in language by giving names to various flowers, shrubs and plants. these names constitute a language, which may be made the medium of pleasant and amusing interchange of thought between men and women. a bouquet of flowers and leaves may be selected and arranged so as to express much depth of feeling--to be truly a poem. we present herewith a list of many flowers and plants, to which, by universal consent, a sentiment has become attached. acacia--concealed love. acacia, rose--friendship. acanthus--arts. adonis vernalis--bitter memories. agnus casus--coldness. agrimony--thankfulness. almond--hope. aloe--superstition. althea--consumed by love. alyssum, sweet--worth beyond beauty. amaranth--immortality. amaryllis--splendid beauty. ambrosia--love returned. anemone--expectation. anemone, garden--forsaken. angelica--inspiration. apocynum (dogbane)--inspiration. apple--temptation. apple blossom--preference. arbor vitæ--unchanging friendship. arbutus, trailing--welcome. arum--ardor. ash--grandeur. ash, mountain--prudence. aspen tree--lamentation. asphodel--regrets beyond the grave. aurilica--avarice. azalea--romance. bachelor's button--hope in love. balm--sympathy. balm of gilead--healing. balsam--impatience. barberry--sharpness, satire. basil--hatred. bay leaf--no change till death. beech--prosperity. bee ophrys--error. bee orchis--industry. bell flower--gratitude. belvidere, wild (licorice)--i declare against you. bilberry--treachery. birch tree--meekness. black bryony--be my support. bladder-nut tree--frivolous amusements. blue bottle--delicacy. borage--bluntness. box--constancy. briers--envy. broken straw--constancy. broom--neatness. buckbean--calm repose. bugloss--falsehood. burdock--importunity. buttercup--riches. cactus--thou leavest me. calla lilly--feminine beauty. calycanthus--benevolence. camelia--pity. camomile--energy in action. candytuft--indifference. canterbury bell--gratitude. cape jasmine gardenia--transport, ecstasy. cardinal flower--distinction. carnation, yellow--disdain. catchfly (silene), red--youthful love. catchfly, white--i fall a victim. cedar--i live for thee. cedar of lebanon--incorruptible. celandine--future joy. cherry tree--good education. chickweed--i cling to thee. chickory--frugality. china aster--i will think of thee. china, pink--aversion. chrysanthemum, rose--in love. chrysanthemum, white--truth. chrysanthemum, yellow--slighted love. cinquefoil--beloved child. clematis--artifice. clover, red--industry. coboea--gossip. coxcomb--foppery. colchium--my best days fled. coltsfoot--justice shall be done you. columbine--folly. columbine, purple--resolved to win. columbine, red--anxious. convolvulus major--dead hope. convolvulus minor--uncertainty. corchorus--impatience of happiness. coreopsis--love at first sight. coriander--hidden merit. corn--riches. cornelian cherry tree--durability. coronilla--success to you. cowslip--pensiveness. cowslip, american--my divinity. crocus--cheerfulness. crown imperial--majesty. currants--you please me. cypress--mourning. cypress and marigold--despair. daffodil--chivalry. dahlia--forever thine. daisy, garden--i share your feelings. daisy, michaelmas--farewell. daisy, red--beauty unknown to possessor. daisy, white--innocence. daisy, wild--i will think of it. dandelion--coquetry. daphne mezereon--i desire to please. daphne odora--i would not have you otherwise. deadleaves--sadness. diosma--usefulness. dittany--birth. dock--patience. dodder--meanness. dogwood flowering (cornus)--am i indifferent to you? ebony--hypocrisy. eglantine--i wound to heal. elder--compassion. elm--dignity. endine--frugality. epigæa, repens (mayflower)--budding beauty. eupatorium--delay. evening primrose--inconstancy. evergreen--poverty. everlasting (graphalium)--never ceasing memory. filbert--reconciliation. fir tree--elevation. flax--i feel your kindness. flora's bell--without pretension. flowering reed--confide in heaven. forget-me-not--true love. foxglove--insincerity. fraxinella--fire. fritilaria (guinea-hen flower)--persecution. furze--anger. fuchsia--the ambition of my love thus plagues itself. fuchsia, scarlet--taste. gardenia--transport; ecstasy. gentian, fringed--intrinsic worth. geranium, apple--present preference. geranium, ivy--your hand for next dance. geranium, nutmeg--i expect a meeting. geranium, oak--lady, deign to smile. geranium, rose--preference. geranium, silver-leaf--recall. gillyflower--lasting beauty. gladiolus--ready armed. golden rod--encouragement. gooseberry--anticipation. goosefoot--goodness. gorse--endearing affection. grape--charity. grass--utility. guelder rose (snowball)--winter. harebell--grief. hawthorn--hope. heart's ease--think of me. heart's ease, purple--you occupy my thoughts. hazel--reconciliation. heath--solitude. helenium--tears. heliotrope, peruvian--i love; devotion. hellebore--scandal. henbane--blemish. hepatica--confidence. hibiscus--delicate beauty. holly--foresight. hollyhock--fruitfulness. hollyhock, white--female ambition. honesty (lunaria)--sincerity. honeysuckle--the bond of love. honeysuckle, coral--the color of my fate. honeysuckle, monthly--i will not answer hastily. hop--injustice. hornbeam--ornament. horse-chestnut--luxury. house-leek--domestic economy. houstonia--content. hoya (wax plant)--sculpture. hyacinth--jealousy. hyacinth, blue--constancy. hyacinth, purple--sorrow. hydrangea--heartlessness. ice plant--your looks freeze me. indian cress--resignation. ipomaca--i attach myself to you. iris--message. iris, german--flame. ivy--friendship; matrimony. jessamine, cape--transient joy. jessamine, white--amiability. jessamine, yellow--grace; elegance. jonquil--return my affection. judas-tree--betrayed. juniper--perfect loveliness. kalmia (mountain laurel)--treachery. kennedia--intellectual beauty. laburnum--pensive beauty. lady's slipper--capricious beauty. lagerstroema (cape myrtle)--eloquence. lantana--rigor. larch--boldness. larkspur--fickleness. laurel--glory. laurestinus--i die if neglected. lavender--distrust. lemon blossom--discretion. lettuce--cold-hearted. lilac--first emotion of love. lilac, white--youth. lily--purity; modesty. lily of the valley--return of happiness. lily, day--coquetry. lily, water--eloquence. lily, yellow--falsehood. linden tree--conjugal love. live oak--liberty. liverwort--confidence. locust--affection beyond the grave. london pride--frivolity. lotus--forgetful of the past. love in a mist--you puzzle me. love lies bleeding--hopeless, not heartless. lucerne--life. lungwort (pulmonaria)--thou art my life. lupine--imagination. lychnis--religious enthusiasm. lythrum--pretension. madder--calumny. maiden's hair--discretion. magnolia, chinese--love of nature. magnolia, grandiflora--peerless and proud. magnolia, swamp--perseverance. mallow--sweetness. mandrake--horror. maple--reserve. marigold--cruelty. marigold, african--vulgar-minded. marigold, french--jealousy. marjoram--blushes. marshmallow--beneficence. marvel of peru (four o'clock)--timidity. meadow saffron--my best days gone. meadow sweet--usefulness. mignonette--your qualities surpass your charms. mimosa--sensitiveness. mint--virtue. mistletoe--i surmount all difficulties. mock orange (syringia)--counterfeit. monkshood--a deadly foe is near. moonwort--forgetfulness. morning glory--coquetry. moss--maternal love. motherwort--secret love. mourning bride (scabious)--unfortunate attachment. mouse-ear chickweed--simplicity. mulberry, black--i will not survive you. mulberry, white--wisdom. mullein--good nature. mushroom--suspicion. mush plant--weakness. mustard seed--indifference. myosotis--forget me not. myrtle--love. narcissus--egotism. nasturtium--patriotism. nettle--cruelty; slander. night blooming cereus--transient beauty. nightshade--bitter truth. oak--hospitality. oats--music. oleander--beware. orange--generosity. orange flower--chastity. orchis--beauty. osier--frankness. osmunda--dreams. pansy--think of me. parsley--entertainment. pasque flower--unpretentious. passion flower--religious fervor. pea--appointed meeting. pea, everlasting--wilt go with me? pea, sweet--departure. peach blossom--my heart is thine. pear tree--affection. peony--anger. pennyroyal--flee away. periwinkle--sweet memories. persimmon--bury me amid nature's beauties. petunica--am not proud. pheasant's eye--sorrowful memories. phlox--our souls united. pimpernel--change. pine--time. pine apple--you are perfect. pine, spruce--farewell. pink--pure affection. pink, clove--dignity. pink, double-red--pure, ardent love. pink, indian--aversion. pink, mountain--you are aspiring. pink, variegated--refusal. pink, white--you are fair. pink, yellow--disdain. plane tree--genius. pleurisy root (asclopias)--heartache cure. plum tree--keep promise. plum tree, wild--independence. polyanthus--confidence. poplar, black--courage. poplar, white--time. poppy--consolation. poppy, white--sleep of the heart. pomegranate--foolishness. pomegranate flower--elegance. potato--beneficence. pride of china (melia)--dissension. primrose--early youth. primrose, evening--inconstancy. privet--mildness. pumpkin--coarseness. quince--temptation. ragged-robin (lychnis)--wit. ranunculus--radiant with charms. reeds--music. rhododendron--agitation. rose--beauty. rose, austrian--thou art all that is lovely. rose, bridal--happy love. rose, burgundy--unconscious beauty. rose, cabbage--love's ambassador. rose, campion--only deserve my love. rose, carolina--love is dangerous. rose, china--grace. rose, daily--that smile i would aspire to. rose, damask--freshness. rose, dog--pleasure and pain. rose, hundred leaf--pride. rose, inermis--ingratitude. rose, maiden's blush--if you do love me you will find me out. rose, moss--superior merit. rosebud, moss--confessed love. rose, multiflora--grace. rose, musk-cluster--charming. rose, sweetbriar--sympathy. rose, tea--always lovely. rose, unique--call me not beautiful. rose, white--i am worthy of you. rose, white (withered)--transient impression. rose, wild--simplicity. rose, yellow--decrease of love. rose, york and lancaster--war. roses, garland of--reward of virtue. rosebud--young girl. rosebud, white--the heart that knows not love. rosemary--your presence revives me. rue--disdain. rush--docility. saffron--excess is dangerous. sage--esteem. sardonia--irony. satin-flower (lunaria)--sincerity. scabious, mourning bride--widowhood. sensitive plant--timidity. service tree--prudence. snapdragon--presumption. snowball--thoughts of heaven. snowdrop--consolation. sorrel--wit ill-timed. southernwood--jesting. spearmint--warm feelings. speedwell, veronica--female fidelity. spindle-tree--your image is engraven on my heart. star of bethlehem--reconciliation. starwort, american--welcome to a stranger. st. john's wort (hypericum)--superstition. stock, ten-week--promptitude. stramonium, common--disguise. strawberry--perfect excellence. strawberry tree (arbutus)--esteemed love. sumac--splendor. sunflower, dwarf--your devout admirer. sunflower, fall--pride. sweet sultan--felicity. sweet william--artifice. sycamore--curiosity. syringia--memory. tansy--i declare against you. teasel--misanthropy. thistle--austerity. thorn apple--deceitful charms. thorn, black--difficulty. thorns--severity. thrift--sympathy. throatwood (pulmonaria)--neglected beauty. thyme--activity. tiger flower--may pride befriend thee. touch me not, balsam--impatience. truffle--surprise. trumpet flower--separation. tuberose--dangerous pleasures. tulip--declaration of love. tulip tree--rural happiness. tulip, variegated--beautiful eyes. tulip, yellow--hopeless love. turnip--charity. valerian--accommodating disposition. venus's flytrap--caught at last. venus's looking-glass--flattery. verbena--sensibility. vine--intoxicating. violet, blue--love. violet, white--modesty. violet, yellow--modest worth. virgin's bower--filial love. wall flower--fidelity. walnut--stratagem. weeping willow--forsaken. wheat--prosperity. woodbine--fraternal love. wood sorrel--joy. wormwood--absence. yarrow--cure for heartache. yew--sorrow. zennæ--absent friends. [illustration] chapter xxxvi. precious stones. some of the precious stones and gems have been given a distinct significance by imparting a special meaning or name to them. the ancients besides considered certain months sacred to the different stones, and some people have considered this in making birthday or wedding presents. below will be found the stones regarded as sacred to the various months, with the meaning given to each. january--garnet--constancy and fidelity. february--amethyst--sincerity. march--bloodstone--courage. april--sapphire--repentance. may--emerald--success in love. june--agate--health and long life. july--ruby--forgetfulness of, and exemption from vexations caused by friendship and love. august--sardonyx--conjugal fidelity. september--chrysolite--freedom from evil passions and sadness of mind. october--opal--hope and faith. november--topaz--fidelity and friendship. december--turquoise--prosperity. of the precious stones not included in the above list, the language is given below: diamond--innocence. pearl--purity. cornelian--contented mind. moonstone--protects from danger. heliotrope--causing the owner to walk invisible. [illustration] * * * * * transcriber's notes: punctuation normalized except where hyphenation could not be determined. page , "lteter" changed to "letter". page , "circumstrances" changed to "circumstances". (but circumstances may) page , "m." changed to "p.m." ( p.m.) page , "abominally" changed to "abominably". (abominably stupid) page , "alloted" changed to "allotted". (conventional time allotted) page , "remaned" changed to "remained". (obliged to remain) page , "defferential" changed to "deferential". (show a deferential) page , "acquantance" changed to "acquaintance". (upon an acquaintance) page , "trivialties" changed to "trivialities". (trivialities than the family) page , "wish" changed to "wishes". (wishes, but should) page , "anniversay" changed to "anniversary". (the first anniversary) page , "anniversay" chanted to "anniversary". (the fifth anniversary) page , "somtimes" changed to "sometimes". (two, and sometimes) page , "charater" changed to "character". (man's real character) page , "comonly" changed to "commonly". (dress is what is commonly) page , "boquet" changed to "bouquet". (wreath and bouquet.) page , "paring" changed to "paring". (paring the toe-nails) page , "halt" changed to "half". (half an ounce) page , "ounce" changed to "ounces". (mix two ounces) page , "on" changed to "an". (moss one-fourth of an ounce) page , "alloted" changed to "allotted". (the allotted number) page , "frugalit ." changed to "frugality." (chickory--frugality.) page , "valey" changed to "valley". (lily of the valley) [illustration: a bride's bouquet "the radiance of a truly happy bride is so beautifying that even a plain girl is made pretty, and a pretty one, divine." [page .]] =etiquette= in society, in business, in politics and at home =by emily post= (mrs. price post) author of "purple and fine linen," "the title market," "woven in the tapestry," "the flight of a moth," "letters of a worldly godmother," etc., etc. illustrated with private photographs and facsimiles of social forms funk & wagnalls company =new york and london= by funk & wagnalls company [printed in the united states of america] first edition published in july second edition published in september, august , . to you my friends whose identity in these pages is veiled in fictional disguise it is but fitting that i dedicate this book. contents chapter introduction i. what is best society? ii. introductions iii. greetings iv. salutations of courtesy v. on the street and in public vi. at public gatherings vii. conversation viii. words, phrases and pronunciation ix. one's position in the community x. cards and visits xi. invitations, acceptances and regrets xii. the well-appointed house xiii. teas and other afternoon parties xiv. formal dinners xv. dinner-giving with limited equipment xvi. luncheons, breakfasts and suppers xvii. balls and dances xviii. the dÉbutante xix. the chaperon and other conventions xx. engagements xxi. first preparations before a wedding xxii. the day of the wedding xxiii. christenings xxiv. funerals xxv. the country house and its hospitality xxvi. the house party in camp xxvii. notes and shorter letters xxviii. longer letters xxix. the fundamentals of good behavior xxx. clubs and club etiquette xxxi. games and sports xxxii. etiquette in business and politics xxxiii. dress xxxiv. the clothes of a gentleman xxxv. the kindergarten of etiquette xxxvi. every-day manners at home xxxvii. traveling at home and abroad xxxviii. the growth of good taste in america photographic illustrations a bride's bouquet a gem of a house the personality of a house consideration for servants the afternoon tea-table a formal dinner detail of place at a formal dinner a dinner service without silver the most elaborate dinner dance ever given in new york a church wedding a house wedding the ideal guest room a breakfast tray the child at table introduction manners and morals by richard duffy many who scoff at a book of etiquette would be shocked to hear the least expression of levity touching the ten commandments. but the commandments do not always prevent such virtuous scoffers from dealings with their neighbor of which no gentleman could be capable and retain his claim to the title. though it may require ingenuity to reconcile their actions with the decalogue--the ingenuity is always forthcoming. there is no intention in this remark to intimate that there is any higher rule of life than the ten commandments; only it is illuminating as showing the relationship between manners and morals, which is too often overlooked. the polished gentleman of sentimental fiction has so long served as the type of smooth and conscienceless depravity that urbanity of demeanor inspires distrust in ruder minds. on the other hand, the blunt, unpolished hero of melodrama and romantic fiction has lifted brusqueness and pushfulness to a pedestal not wholly merited. consequently, the kinship between conduct that keeps us within the law and conduct that makes civilized life worthy to be called such, deserves to be noted with emphasis. the chinese sage, confucius, could not tolerate the suggestion that virtue is in itself enough without politeness, for he viewed them as inseparable and "saw courtesies as coming from the heart," maintaining that "when they are practised with all the heart, a moral elevation ensues." people who ridicule etiquette as a mass of trivial and arbitrary conventions, "extremely troublesome to those who practise them and insupportable to everybody else," seem to forget the long, slow progress of social intercourse in the upward climb of man from the primeval state. conventions were established from the first to regulate the rights of the individual and the tribe. they were and are the rules of the game of life and must be followed if we would "play the game." ages before man felt the need of indigestion remedies, he ate his food solitary and furtive in some corner, hoping he would not be espied by any stronger and hungrier fellow. it was a long, long time before the habit of eating in common was acquired; and it is obvious that the practise could not have been taken up with safety until the individuals of the race knew enough about one another and about the food resources to be sure that there was food sufficient for all. when eating in common became the vogue, table manners made their appearance and they have been waging an uphill struggle ever since. the custom of raising the hat when meeting an acquaintance derives from the old rule that friendly knights in accosting each other should raise the visor for mutual recognition in amity. in the knightly years, it must be remembered, it was important to know whether one was meeting friend or foe. meeting a foe meant fighting on the spot. thus, it is evident that the conventions of courtesy not only tend to make the wheels of life run more smoothly, but also act as safeguards in human relationship. imagine the paris peace conference, or any of the later conferences in europe, without the protective armor of diplomatic etiquette! nevertheless, to some the very word etiquette is an irritant. it implies a great pother about trifles, these conscientious objectors assure us, and trifles are unimportant. trifles are unimportant, it is true, but then life is made up of trifles. to those who dislike the word, it suggests all that is finical and superfluous. it means a garish embroidery on the big scheme of life; a clog on the forward march of a strong and courageous nation. to such as these, the words etiquette and politeness connote weakness and timidity. their notion of a really polite man is a dancing master or a man milliner. they were always willing to admit that the french were the politest nation in europe and equally ready to assert that the french were the weakest and least valorous, until the war opened their eyes in amazement. yet, that manners and fighting can go hand in hand appears in the following anecdote: in the midst of the war, some french soldiers and some non-french of the allied forces were receiving their rations in a village back of the lines. the non-french fighters belonged to an army that supplied rations plentifully. they grabbed their allotments and stood about while hastily eating, uninterrupted by conversation or other concern. the french soldiers took their very meager portions of food, improvised a kind of table on the top of a flat rock, and having laid out the rations, including the small quantity of wine that formed part of the repast, sat down in comfort and began their meal amid a chatter of talk. one of the non-french soldiers, all of whom had finished their large supply of food before the french had begun eating, asked sardonically: "why do you fellows make such a lot of fuss over the little bit of grub they give you to eat?" the frenchman replied: "well, we are making war for civilization, are we not? very well, we are. therefore, we eat in a civilized way." to the french we owe the word etiquette, and it is amusing to discover its origin in the commonplace familiar warning--"keep off the grass." it happened in the reign of louis xiv, when the gardens of versailles were being laid out, that the master gardener, an old scotsman, was sorely tried because his newly seeded lawns were being continually trampled upon. to keep trespassers off, he put up warning signs or tickets--_etiquettes_--on which was indicated the path along which to pass. but the courtiers paid no attention to these directions and so the determined scot complained to the king in such convincing manner that his majesty issued an edict commanding everyone at court to "keep within the _etiquettes_." gradually the term came to cover all the rules for correct demeanor and deportment in court circles; and thus through the centuries it has grown into use to describe the conventions sanctioned for the purpose of smoothing personal contacts and developing tact and good manners in social intercourse. with the decline of feudal courts and the rise of empires of industry, much of the ceremony of life was discarded for plain and less formal dealing. trousers and coats supplanted doublets and hose, and the change in costume was not more extreme than the change in social ideas. the court ceased to be the arbiter of manners, though the aristocracy of the land remained the high exemplar of good breeding. yet, even so courtly and materialistic a mind as lord chesterfield's acknowledged a connection between manners and morality, of which latter the courts of europe seemed so sparing. in one of the famous "letters to his son" he writes: "moral virtues are the foundation of society in general, and of friendship in particular; but attentions, manners, and graces, both adorn and strengthen them." again he says: "great merit, or great failings, will make you respected or despised; but trifles, little attentions, mere nothings, either done or reflected, will make you either liked or disliked, in the general run of the world." for all the wisdom and brilliancy of his worldly knowledge, perhaps no other writer has done so much to bring disrepute on the "manners and graces" as lord chesterfield, and this, it is charged, because he debased them so heavily by considering them merely as the machinery of a successful career. to the moralists, the fact that the moral standards of society in lord chesterfield's day were very different from those of the present era rather adds to the odium that has become associated with his attitude. his severest critics, however, do concede that he is candid and outspoken, and many admit that his social strategy is widely practised even in these days. but the aims of the world in which he moved were routed by the onrush of the ideals of democratic equality, fraternity, and liberty. with the prosperity of the newer shibboleths, the old-time notion of aristocracy, gentility, and high breeding became more and more a curio to be framed suitably in gold and kept in the glass case of an art museum. the crashing advance of the industrial age of gold thrust all courts and their sinuous graces aside for the unmistakable ledger balance of the counting-house. this new order of things had been a long time in process, when, in the first year of this century, a distinguished english social historian, the late the right honorable g.w.e. russell, wrote: "probably in all ages of history men have liked money, but a hundred years ago they did not talk about it in society.... birth, breeding, rank, accomplishments, eminence in literature, eminence in art, eminence in public service--all these things still count for something in society. but when combined they are only as the dust of the balance when weighed against the all-prevalent power of money. the worship of the golden calf is the characteristic cult of modern society." in the elizabethan age of mighty glory, three hundred years before this was said, ben jonson had railed against money as "a thin membrane of honor," groaning: "how hath all true reputation fallen since money began to have any!" now the very fact that the debasing effect of money on the social organism has been so constantly reprehended, from scriptural days onward, proves the instinctive yearning of mankind for a system of life regulated by good taste, high intelligence and sound affections. but, it remains true that, in the succession of great commercial epochs, coincident with the progress of modern science and invention, _almost_ everything can be bought and sold, and so _almost_ everything is rated by the standard of money. yet, this standard is precisely not the ultimate test of the christianity on which we have been pluming ourselves through the centuries. still, no one can get along without money; and few of us get along very well with what we have. at least we think so--because everybody else seems to think that way. we americans are members of the nation which, materially, is the richest, most prosperous and most promising in the world. this idea is dinned into our heads continually by foreign observers, and publicly we "own the soft impeachment." privately, each individual american seems driven with the decision that he must live up to the general conception of the nation as a whole. and he does, but in less strenuous moments he might profitably ponder the counsel of gladstone to his countrymen: "let us respect the ancient manners and recollect that, if the true soul of chivalry has died among us, with it all that is good in society has died. let us cherish a sober mind; take for granted that in our best performances there are latent many errors which in their own time will come to light." america, too, has her ancient manners to remember and respect; but, in the rapid assimilation of new peoples into her economic and social organism, more pressing concerns take up nearly all her time. the perfection of manners by intensive cultivation of good taste, some believe, would be the greatest aid possible to the moralists who are alarmed over the decadence of the younger generation. good taste may not make men or women really virtuous, but it will often save them from what theologians call "occasions of sin." we may note, too, that grossness in manners forms a large proportion of the offenses that fanatical reformers foam about. besides grossness, there is also the meaner selfishness. selfishness is at the polar remove from the worldly manners of the old school, according to which, as dr. pusey wrote, others were preferred to self, pain was given to no one, no one was neglected, deference was shown to the weak and the aged, and unconscious courtesy extended to all inferiors. such was the "beauty" of the old manners, which he felt consisted in "acting upon christian principle, and if in any case it became soulless, as apart from christianity, the beautiful form was there, into which the real life might re-enter." as a study of all that is admirable in american manners, and as a guide to behavior in the simplest as well as the most complex requirements of life day by day, whether we are at home or away from it, there can be no happier choice than the present volume. it is conceived in the belief that etiquette in its broader sense means the technique of human conduct under all circumstances in life. yet all minutiæ of correct manners are included and no detail is too small to be explained, from the selection of a visiting card to the mystery of eating corn on the cob. matters of clothes for men and women are treated with the same fullness of information and accuracy of taste as are questions of the furnishing of their houses and the training of their minds to social intercourse. but there is no exaggeration of the minor details at the expense of the more important spirit of personal conduct and attitude of mind. to dwell on formal trivialities, the author holds, is like "measuring the letters of the sign-boards by the roadside instead of profiting by the directions they offer." she would have us know also that "it is not the people who make small technical mistakes or even blunders, who are barred from the paths of good society, but those of sham and pretense whose veneered vulgarity at every step tramples the flowers in the gardens of cultivation." to her mind the structure of etiquette is comparable to that of a house, of which the foundation is ethics and the rest good taste, correct speech, quiet, unassuming behavior, and a proper pride of dignity. to such as entertain the mistaken notion that politeness implies all give and little or no return, it is well to recall coleridge's definition of a gentleman: "we feel the gentlemanly character present with us," he said, "whenever, under all circumstances of social intercourse, the trivial, not less than the important, through the whole detail of his manners and deportment, and with the ease of a habit, a person shows respect to others in such a way as at the same time implies, in his own feelings, and habitually, an assured anticipation of reciprocal respect from them to himself. in short, the gentlemanly character arises out of the feeling of equality acting as a habit, yet flexible to the varieties of rank, and modified without being disturbed or superseded by them." definitions of a gentleman are numerous, and some of them famous; but we do not find such copiousness for choice in definitions of a lady. perhaps it has been understood all along that the admirable and just characteristics of a gentleman should of necessity be those also of a lady, with the charm of womanhood combined. and, in these days, with the added responsibility of the vote. besides the significance of this volume as an indubitable authority on manners, it should be pointed out that as a social document, it is without precedent in american literature. in order that we may better realize the behavior and environment of well-bred people, the distinguished author has introduced actual persons and places in fictional guise. they are the persons and the places of her own world; and whether we can or can not penetrate the incognito of the worldlys, the gildings, the kindharts, the oldnames, and the others, is of no importance. fictionally, they are real enough for us to be interested and instructed in their way of living. that they happen to move in what is known as society is incidental, for, as the author declares at the very outset: "best society is not a fellowship of the wealthy, nor does it seek to exclude those who are not of exalted birth; but it is an association of gentlefolk, of which good form in speech, charm of manner, knowledge of the social amenities, and instinctive consideration for the feelings of others, are the credentials by which society the world over recognizes its chosen members." the immediate fact is that the characters of this book are thoroughbred americans, representative of various sections of the country and free from the slightest tinge of snobbery. not all of them are even well-to-do, in the postwar sense; and their devices of economy in household outlay, dress and entertainment are a revelation in the science of ways and means. there are parents, children, relatives and friends all passing before us in the pageant of life from the cradle to the grave. no circumstance, from an introduction to a wedding, is overlooked in this panorama and the spectator has beside him a cicerone in the person of the author who clears every doubt and answers every question. in course, the conviction grows upon him that etiquette is no flummery of poseurs "aping the manners of their betters," nor a code of snobs, who divide their time between licking the boots of those above them and kicking at those below, but a system of rules of conduct based on respect of self coupled with respect of others. meanwhile, to guard against conceit in his new knowledge, he may at odd moments recall ben jonson's lines: "nor stand so much on your gentility, which is an airy, and mere borrowed thing, from dead men's dust, and bones: and none of yours except you make, or hold it." =etiquette= chapter i what is best society? "society" is an ambiguous term; it may mean much or nothing. every human being--unless dwelling alone in a cave--is a member of society of one sort or another, and therefore it is well to define what is to be understood by the term "best society" and why its authority is recognized. best society abroad is always the oldest aristocracy; composed not so much of persons of title, which may be new, as of those families and communities which have for the longest period of time known highest cultivation. our own best society is represented by social groups which have had, since this is america, widest rather than longest association with old world cultivation. cultivation is always the basic attribute of best society, much as we hear in this country of an "aristocracy of wealth." to the general public a long purse is synonymous with high position--a theory dear to the heart of the "yellow" press and eagerly fostered in the preposterous social functions of screen drama. it is true that best society is comparatively rich; it is true that the hostess of great wealth, who constantly and lavishly entertains, will shine, at least to the readers of the press, more brilliantly than her less affluent sister. yet the latter, through her quality of birth, her poise, her inimitable distinction, is often the jewel of deeper water in the social crown of her time. the most advertised commodity is not always intrinsically the best, but is sometimes merely the product of a company with plenty of money to spend on advertising. in the same way, money brings certain people before the public--sometimes they are persons of "quality," quite as often the so-called "society leaders" featured in the public press do not belong to good society at all, in spite of their many published photographs and the energies of their press-agents. or possibly they do belong to "smart" society; but if too much advertised, instead of being the "queens" they seem, they might more accurately be classified as the court jesters of to-day. =the imitation and the genuine= new york, more than any city in the world, unless it be paris, loves to be amused, thrilled and surprised all at the same time; and will accept with outstretched hand any one who can perform this astounding feat. do not underestimate the ability that can achieve it: a scintillating wit, an arresting originality, a talent for entertaining that amounts to genius, and gold poured literally like rain, are the least requirements. puritan america on the other hand demanding, as a ticket of admission to her best society, the qualifications of birth, manners and cultivation, clasps her hands tight across her slim trim waist and announces severely that new york's "best" is, in her opinion, very "bad" indeed. but this is because puritan america, as well as the general public, mistakes the jester for the queen. as a matter of fact, best society is not at all like a court with an especial queen or king, nor is it confined to any one place or group, but might better be described as an unlimited brotherhood which spreads over the entire surface of the globe, the members of which are invariably people of cultivation and worldly knowledge, who have not only perfect manners but a perfect manner. manners are made up of trivialities of deportment which can be easily learned if one does not happen to know them; manner is personality--the outward manifestation of one's innate character and attitude toward life. a gentleman, for instance, will never be ostentatious or overbearing any more than he will ever be servile, because these attributes never animate the impulses of a well-bred person. a man whose manners suggest the grotesque is invariably a person of imitation rather than of real position. etiquette must, if it is to be of more than trifling use, include ethics as well as manners. certainly what one is, is of far greater importance than what one appears to be. a knowledge of etiquette is of course essential to one's decent behavior, just as clothing is essential to one's decent appearance; and precisely as one wears the latter without being self-conscious of having on shoes and perhaps gloves, one who has good manners is equally unself-conscious in the observance of etiquette, the precepts of which must be so thoroughly absorbed as to make their observance a matter of instinct rather than of conscious obedience. thus best society is not a fellowship of the wealthy, nor does it seek to exclude those who are not of exalted birth; but it _is_ an association of gentle-folk, of which good form in speech, charm of manner, knowledge of the social amenities, and instinctive consideration for the feelings of others, are the credentials by which society the world over recognizes its chosen members. chapter ii introductions =the correct form= the word "present" is preferable on formal occasions to the word "introduce." on informal occasions neither word is expressed, though understood, as will be shown below. the correct formal introduction is: "mrs. jones, may i present mr. smith?" or, "mr. distinguished, may i present mr. young?" the younger person is always presented to the older or more distinguished, but a gentleman is always presented to a lady, even though he is an old gentleman of great distinction and the lady a mere slip of a girl. no lady is ever, except to the president of the united states, a cardinal, or a reigning sovereign, presented to a man. the correct introduction of either a man or woman: to the president, is, "mr. president, i have the honor to present mrs. jones, of chicago." to a cardinal, is, "your eminence, may i present mrs. jones?" to a king: much formality of presenting names on lists is gone through beforehand; at the actual presentation an "accepted" name is repeated from functionary to equerry and nothing is said to the king or queen except: "mrs. jones." but a foreign ambassador is presented, "mr. ambassador, may i present you to mrs. jones." very few people in polite society are introduced by their formal titles. a hostess says, "mrs. jones, may i present the duke of overthere?" or "lord blank?"; never "his grace" or "his lordship." the honorable is merely mr. lordson, or mr. holdoffice. a doctor, a judge, a bishop, are addressed and introduced by their titles. the clergy are usually mister unless they formally hold the title of doctor, or dean, or canon. a catholic priest is "father kelly." a senator is always introduced as senator, whether he is still in office or not. but the president of the united states, once he is out of office, is merely "mr." and not "ex-president." =the prevailing introduction and inflection= in the briefer form of introduction commonly used, "mrs. worldly, mrs. norman," if the two names are said in the same tone of voice it is not apparent who is introduced to whom; but by accentuating the more important person's name, it can be made as clear as though the words "may i present" had been used. the more important name is said with a slightly rising inflection, the secondary as a mere statement of fact. for instance, suppose you say, "are you there?" and then "it is raining!" use the same inflection exactly and say, "mrs. worldly?"--"mrs. younger!" are you there?--it is raining! mrs. worldly?--mrs. younger! the unmarried lady is presented to the married one, unless the latter is very much the younger. as a matter of fact, in introducing two ladies to each other or one gentleman to another, no distinction is made. "mrs. smith; mrs. norman." "mr. brown; mr. green." the inflection is: i think--it's going to rain! mrs. smith--mrs. norman! a man is also often introduced, "mrs. worldly? mr. norman!" but to a very distinguished man, a mother would say: "mr. edison--my daughter, mary!" to a young man, however, she should say, "mr. struthers, have you met my daughter?" if the daughter is married, she should have added, "my daughter, mrs. smartlington." the daughter's name is omitted because it is extremely bad taste (except in the south) to call her daughter "miss mary" to any one but a servant, and on the other hand she should not present a young man to "mary." the young man can easily find out her name afterward. =other forms of introduction= other permissible forms of introduction are: "mrs. jones, do you know mrs. norman?" or, "mrs. jones, you know mrs. robinson, don't you?" (on no account say "do you not?" best society always says "don't you?") or, "mrs. robinson, have you met mrs. jones?" or, "mrs. jones, do you know my mother?" or, "this is my daughter ellen, mrs. jones." these are all good form, whether gentlemen are introduced to ladies, ladies to ladies, or gentlemen to gentlemen. in introducing a gentleman to a lady, you may ask mr. smith if he has met mrs. jones, but you must not ask mrs. jones if she has met mr. smith! =forms of introductions to avoid= do not say: "mr. jones, shake hands with mr. smith," or "mrs. jones, i want to make you acquainted with mrs. smith." never say: "make you acquainted with" and do not, in introducing one person to another, call one of them "my friend." you can say "my aunt," or "my sister," or "my cousin"--but to pick out a particular person as "my friend" is not only bad style but, unless you have only one friend, bad manners--as it implies mrs. smith is "my friend" and you are a stranger. you may very properly say to mr. smith "i want you to meet mrs. jones," but this is not a form of introduction, nor is it to be said in mrs. jones' hearing. upon leading mr. smith up to mrs. jones, you say "mrs. jones may i present mr. smith" or "mrs. jones; mr. smith." under no circumstances whatsoever say "mr. smith meet mrs. jones," or "mrs. jones meet mr. smith." either wording is equally preposterous. do not repeat "mrs. jones? mrs. smith! mrs. smith? mrs. jones!" to say each name once is quite enough. most people of good taste very much dislike being asked their names. to say "what is your name?" is always abrupt and unflattering. if you want to know with whom you have been talking, you can generally find a third person later and ask "who was the lady with the grey feather in her hat?" the next time you see her you can say "how do you do, mrs. ----" (calling her by name). =when to shake hands= when gentlemen are introduced to each other they always shake hands. when a gentleman is introduced to a lady, she sometimes puts out her hand--especially if he is some one she has long heard about from friends in common, but to an entire stranger she generally merely bows her head slightly and says: "how do you do!" strictly speaking, it is always her place to offer her hand or not as she chooses, but if he puts out his hand, it is rude on her part to ignore it. nothing could be more ill-bred than to treat curtly any overture made in spontaneous friendliness. no thoroughbred lady would ever refuse to shake any hand that is honorable, not even the hand of a coal heaver at the risk of her fresh white glove. those who have been drawn into a conversation do not usually shake hands on parting. but there is no fixed rule. a lady sometimes shakes hands after talking with a casual stranger; at other times she does not offer her hand on parting from one who has been punctiliously presented to her. she may find the former sympathetic and the latter very much the contrary. very few rules of etiquette are inelastic and none more so than the acceptance or rejection of the strangers you meet. there is a wide distance between rudeness and reserve. you can be courteously polite and at the same time extremely aloof to a stranger who does not appeal to you, or you can be welcomingly friendly to another whom you like on sight. individual temperament has also to be taken into consideration: one person is naturally austere, another genial. the latter shakes hands far more often than the former. as already said, it is unforgivably rude to refuse a proffered hand, but it is rarely necessary to offer your hand if you prefer not to. =what to say when introduced= best society has only one phrase in acknowledgment of an introduction: "how do you do?" it literally accepts no other. when mr. bachelor says, "mrs. worldly, may i present mr. struthers?" mrs. worldly says, "how do you do?" struthers bows, and says nothing. to sweetly echo "mr. struthers?" with a rising inflection on "--thers?" is not good form. saccharine chirpings should be classed with crooked little fingers, high hand-shaking and other affectations. all affectations are bad form. persons of position do not say: "charmed," or "pleased to meet you," etc., but often the first remark is the beginning of a conversation. for instance, young struthers is presented to mrs. worldly. she smiles and perhaps says, "i hear that you are going to be in new york all winter?" struthers answers, "yes, i am at the columbia law school," etc., or since he is much younger than she, he might answer, "yes, mrs. worldly," especially if his answer would otherwise be a curt yes or no. otherwise he does not continue repeating her name. taking leave of one you have just met after an introduction, when you have talked for some time to a stranger whom you have found agreeable, and you then take leave, you say, "good-by, i am very glad to have met you," or "good-by, i hope i shall see you again soon"--or "some time." the other person answers, "thank you," or perhaps adds, "i hope so, too." usually "thank you" is all that is necessary. in taking leave of a group of strangers--it makes no difference whether you have been introduced to them or merely included in their conversation--you bow "good-by" to any who happen to be looking at you, but you do not attempt to attract the attention of those who are unaware that you are turning away. =introducing one person to a group= this is never done on formal occasions when a great many persons are present. at a small luncheon, for instance, a hostess always introduces her guests to one another. let us suppose you are the hostess: your position is not necessarily near, but it is toward the door. mrs. king is sitting quite close to you, mrs. lawrence also near. miss robinson and miss brown are much farther away. mrs. jones enters. you go a few steps forward and shake hands with her, then stand aside as it were, for a second only, to see if mrs. jones goes to speak to any one. if she apparently knows no one, you say, "mrs. king, do you know mrs. jones?" mrs. king being close at hand (usually but not necessarily) rises, shakes hands with mrs. jones and sits down again. if mrs. king is an elderly lady, and mrs. jones a young one, mrs. king merely extends her hand and does not rise. having said "mrs. jones" once, you do not repeat it immediately, but turning to the other lady sitting near you, you say, "mrs. lawrence," then you look across the room and continue, "miss robinson, miss brown--mrs. jones!" mrs. lawrence, if she is young, rises and shakes hands with mrs. jones, and the other two bow but do not rise. at a very big luncheon you would introduce mrs. jones to mrs. king and possibly to mrs. lawrence, so that mrs. jones might have some one to talk to. but if other guests come in at this moment, mrs. jones finds a place for herself and after a pause, falls naturally into conversation with those she is next to, without giving her name or asking theirs. a friend's roof is supposed to be an introduction to those it shelters. in best society this is always recognized if the gathering is intimate, such as at a luncheon, dinner or house party; but it is not accepted at a ball or reception, or any "general" entertainment. people always talk to their neighbors at table whether introduced or not. it would be a breach of etiquette not to! but if mrs. jones and mrs. norman merely spoke to each other for a few moments, in the drawing-room, it is not necessary that they recognize each other afterwards. =new york's bad manners= new york's bad manners are often condemned and often very deservedly. even though the cause is carelessness rather than intentional indifference, the indifference is no less actual and the rudeness inexcusable. it is by no means unheard of that after sitting at table next to the guest of honor, a new yorker will meet her the next day with utter unrecognition. not because the new yorker means to "cut" the stranger or feels the slightest unwillingness to continue the acquaintance, but because few new yorkers possess enthusiasm enough to make an effort to remember all the new faces they come in contact with, but allow all those who are not especially "fixed" in their attention, to drift easily out of mind and recognition. it is mortifyingly true; no one is so ignorantly indifferent to everything outside his or her own personal concern as the socially fashionable new yorker, unless it is the londoner! the late theodore roosevelt was a brilliantly shining exception. and, of course, and happily, there are other men and women like him in this. but there are also enough of the snail-in-shell variety to give color to the very just resentment that those from other and more gracious cities hold against new yorkers. everywhere else in the world (except london), the impulse of self-cultivation, if not the more generous ones of consideration and hospitality, induces people of good breeding to try and make the effort to find out what manner of mind, or experience, or talent, a stranger has; and to remember, at least out of courtesy, anyone for whose benefit a friend of theirs gave a dinner or luncheon. to fashionable new york, however, luncheon was at one-thirty; at three there is something else occupying the moment--that is all. nearly all people of the atlantic coast dislike general introductions, and present people to each other as little as possible. in the west, however, people do not feel comfortable in a room full of strangers. whether or not to introduce people therefore becomes not merely a question of propriety, but of consideration for local custom. =never introduce unnecessarily= the question as to when introductions should be made, or not made, is one of the most elusive points in the entire range of social knowledge. "whenever necessary to bridge an awkward situation," is a definition that is exact enough, but not very helpful or clear. the hostess who allows a guest to stand, awkward and unknown, in the middle of her drawing-room is no worse than she who pounces on every chance acquaintance and drags unwilling victims into forced recognition of each other, everywhere and on all occasions. the fundamental rule never to introduce unnecessarily brings up the question: =which are the necessary occasions?= first, in order of importance, is the presentation of everyone to guests of honor, whether the "guests" are distinguished strangers for whom a dinner is given, or a bride and groom, or a débutante being introduced to society. it is the height of rudeness for anyone to go to an entertainment given in honor of some one and fail to "meet" him. (even though one's memory is too feeble to remember him afterward!) =introductions at a dinner= the host must always see that every gentleman either knows or is presented to the lady he is to "take in" to dinner, and also, if possible, to the one who is to sit at the other side of him. if the latter introduction is overlooked, people sitting next each other at table nearly always introduce themselves. a gentleman says, "how do you do, mrs. jones. i am arthur robinson." or showing her his place card, "i have to introduce myself, this is my name." or the lady says first, "i am mrs. hunter jones." and the man answers, "how do you do, mrs. jones, my name is titherington smith." it is not unusual, in new york, for those placed next each other to talk without introducing themselves--particularly if each can read the name of the other on the place cards. =other necessary introductions= even in new york's most introductionless circles, people always introduce: a small group of people who are to sit together anywhere. partners at dinner. the guests at a house party. everyone at a small dinner or luncheon. the four who are at the same bridge table. partners or fellow-players in any game. at a dance, when an invitation has been asked for a stranger, the friend who vouched for him should personally present him to the hostess. "mrs. worldly, this is mr. robinson, whom you said i might bring." the hostess shakes hands and smiles and says: "i am very glad to see you, mr. robinson." a guest in a box at the opera always introduces any gentleman who comes to speak to her, to her hostess, unless the latter is engrossed in conversation with a visitor of her own, or unless other people block the distance between so that an introduction would be forced and awkward. a newly arriving visitor in a lady's drawing-room is not introduced to another who is taking leave. nor is an animated conversation between two persons interrupted to introduce a third. nor is any one ever led around a room and introduced right and left. if two ladies or young girls are walking together and they meet a third who stops to speak to one of them, the other walks slowly on and does not stand awkwardly by and wait for an introduction. if the third is asked by the one she knows, to join them, the sauntering friend is overtaken and an introduction always made. the third, however, must not join them unless invited to do so. at a very large dinner, people (excepting the gentlemen and ladies who are to sit next to each other at table) are not collectively introduced. after dinner, men in the smoking room or left at table always talk to their neighbors whether they have been introduced or not, and ladies in the drawing-room do the same. but unless they meet soon again, or have found each other so agreeable that they make an effort to continue the acquaintance, they become strangers again, equally whether they were introduced or not. some writers on etiquette speak of "correct introductions" that carry "obligations of future acquaintance," and "incorrect introductions," that seemingly obligate one to nothing. degrees of introduction are utterly unknown to best society. it makes not the slightest difference so far as any one's acceptance or rejection of another is concerned how an introduction is worded or, on occasions, whether an introduction takes place at all. fashionable people in very large cities take introductions lightly; they are veritable ships that pass in the night. they show their red or green signals--which are merely polite sentences and pleasant manners--and they pass on again. when you are introduced to some one for the second time and the first occasion was without interest and long ago, there is no reason why you should speak of the former meeting. if some one presents you to mrs. smith for the second time on the same occasion, you smile and say "i have already met mrs. smith," but you say nothing if you met mrs. smith long ago and she showed no interest in you at that time. most rules are elastic and contract and expand according to circumstances. you do not remind mrs. smith of having met her before, but on meeting again any one who was brought to your own house, or one who showed you an especial courtesy you instinctively say, "i am so glad to see you again." =including someone in conversation without an introduction= on occasions it happens that in talking to one person you want to include another in your conversation without making an introduction. for instance: suppose you are talking to a seedsman and a friend joins you in your garden. you greet your friend, and then include her by saying, "mr. smith is suggesting that i dig up these cannas and put in delphiniums." whether your friend gives an opinion as to the change in color of your flower bed or not, she has been made part of your conversation. this same maneuver of evading an introduction is also resorted to when you are not sure that an acquaintance will be agreeable to one or both of those whom an accidental circumstance has brought together. =introductions unnecessary= you must never introduce people to each other in public places unless you are certain beyond a doubt that the introduction will be agreeable to both. you cannot commit a greater social blunder than to introduce, to a person of position, some one she does not care to know, especially on shipboard, in hotels, or in other very small, rather public, communities where people are so closely thrown together that it is correspondingly difficult to avoid undesirable acquaintances who have been given the wedge of an introduction. as said above, introductions in very large cities are unimportant. in new york, where people are meeting new faces daily, seldom seeing the same one twice in a year, it requires a tenacious memory to recognize those one hoped most to see again, and others are blotted out at once. people in good society rarely ask to be introduced to each other, but if there is a good reason for knowing some one, they often introduce themselves; for instance, mary smith says: "mrs. jones, aren't you a friend of my mother's? i am mrs. titherington smith's daughter." mrs. jones says: "why, my dear child, i am so glad you spoke to me. your mother and i have known each other since we were children!" or, an elder lady asks: "aren't you mary smith? i have known your mother since she was your age." or a young woman says: "aren't you mrs. worldly?" mrs. worldly, looking rather freezingly, politely says "yes" and waits. and the stranger continues, "i think my sister millicent manners is a friend of yours." mrs. worldly at once unbends. "oh, yes, indeed, i am devoted to millicent! and you must be ----?" "i'm alice." "oh, of course, millicent has often talked of you, and of your lovely voice. i want very much to hear you sing some time." these self-introductions, however, must never presumingly be made. it would be in very bad taste for alice to introduce herself to mrs. worldly if her sister knew her only slightly. =a business visit not an introduction= a lady who goes to see another to get a reference for a servant, or to ask her aid in an organization for charity, would never consider such a meeting as an introduction, even though they talked for an hour. nor would she offer to shake hands in leaving. on the other hand, neighbors who are continually meeting, gradually become accustomed to say "how do you do?" when they meet, even though they never become acquaintances. =the retort courteous to one you have forgotten= let us suppose some one addresses you, and then slightly disconcerted says: "you don't remember me, do you?" the polite thing--unless his manner does not ring true, is to say "why, of course, i do." and then if a few neutral remarks lead to no enlightening topic, and bring no further memory, you ask at the first opportunity who it was that addressed you. if the person should prove actually to be unknown, it is very easy to repel any further advances. but nearly always you find it is some one you ought to have known, and your hiding the fact of your forgetfulness saves you from the rather rude and stupid situation of blankly declaring: "i don't remember you." if, after being introduced to you, mr. jones calls you by a wrong name, you let it pass, at first, but if he persists you may say: "my name is simpson, not simpkin." at a private dance, young men nowadays introduce their men friends to young women without first asking the latter's permission, because all those invited to a lady's house are supposed to be eligible for presentation to everyone, or they would not be there. at a public ball young men and women keep very much to their own particular small circle and are not apt to meet outsiders at all. under these circumstances a gentleman should be very careful not to introduce a youth whom he knows nothing about to a lady of his acquaintance--or at least he should ask her first. he can say frankly: "there is a man called sliders who has asked to meet you. i don't know who he is, but he seems decent. shall i introduce him?" the lady can say "yes"; or, "i'd rather not." =introduction by letter= an introduction by letter is far more binding than a casual spoken introduction which commits you to nothing. this is explained fully and example letters are given in the chapter on letters. a letter of introduction is handed you unsealed, always. it is correct for you to seal it at once in the presence of its author. you thank your friend for having written it and go on your journey. if you are a man and your introduction is to a lady, you go to her house as soon as you arrive in her city, and leave the letter with your card at her door. usually you do not ask to see her; but if it is between four and six o'clock it is quite correct to do so if you choose. presenting yourself with a letter is always a little awkward. most people prefer to leave their cards without asking to be received. if your letter is to a man, you mail it to his house, unless the letter is a business one. in the latter case you go to his office, and send in your card and the letter. meanwhile you wait in the reception room until he has read the letter and sends for you to come into his private office. if you are a woman, you mail your letter of social introduction and do nothing further until you receive an acknowledgment. if the recipient of your letter leaves her card on you, you in return leave yours on her. but the obligation of a written introduction is such that only illness can excuse her not asking you to her house--either formally or informally. when a man receives a letter introducing another man, he calls the person introduced on the telephone and asks how he may be of service to him. if he does not invite the newcomer to his house, he may put him up at his club, or have him take luncheon or dinner at a restaurant, as the circumstances seem to warrant. chapter iii greetings =what to say when introduced= as explained in the foregoing chapter, the correct formal greeting is: "how do you do?" if mrs. younger is presented to mrs. worldly, mrs. worldly says "how do you do?" if the ambassador of france is presented to her, she says "how do you do?" mrs. younger and the ambassador likewise say "how do you do?" or merely bow. there are a few expressions possible under other circumstances and upon other occasions. if you have, through friends in common, long heard of a certain lady, or gentleman, and you know that she, or he, also has heard much of you, you may say when you are introduced to her: "i am very glad to meet you," or "i am delighted to meet you at last!" do not use the expression "pleased to meet you" then or on any occasion. and you must not say you are delighted unless you have reason to be sure that she also is delighted to meet you. to one who has volunteered to help you in charitable work for instance, you would say: "it is very good of you to help us," or, "to join us." in business a gentleman says: "very glad to meet you," or "delighted to meet you." or, if in his own office: "very glad to see you!" =informal greetings= informal greetings are almost as limited as formal, but not quite; for besides saying "how do you do?" you can say "good morning" and on occasions "how are you?" or "good evening." on very informal occasions, it is the present fashion to greet an intimate friend with "hello!" this seemingly vulgar salutation is made acceptable by the tone in which it is said. to shout "hul_low_!" is vulgar, but "hello, mary" or "how 'do john," each spoken in an ordinary tone of voice, sound much the same. but remember that the "hello" is spoken, not called out, and never used except between intimate friends who call each other by the first name. there are only two forms of farewell: "good-by" and "good night." never say "au revoir" unless you have been talking french, or are speaking to a french person. never interlard your conversation with foreign words or phrases when you can possibly translate them into english; and the occasions when our mother tongue will not serve are extremely rare. very often in place of the over-worn "how do you do," perhaps more often than not, people skip the words of actual greeting and plunge instead into conversation: "why, mary! when did you get back?" or "what is the news with you?" or "what have you been doing lately?" the weather, too, fills in with equal faithfulness. "isn't it a heavenly day!" or "horrid weather, isn't it?" it would seem that the variability of the weather was purposely devised to furnish mankind with unfailing material for conversation. in bidding good-by to a new acquaintance with whom you have been talking, you shake hands and say, "good-by. i am very glad to have met you." to one who has been especially interesting, or who is somewhat of a personage you say: "it has been a great pleasure to meet you." the other answers: "thank you." =in church= people do not greet each other in church, except at a wedding. at weddings people do speak to friends sitting near them, but in a low tone of voice. it would be shocking to enter a church and hear a babel of voices! ordinarily in church if a friend happens to catch your eye, you smile, but never actually bow. if you go to a church not your own and a stranger offers you a seat in her pew, you should, on leaving, turn to her and say: "thank you." but you do not greet anyone until you are out on the church steps, when you naturally speak to your friends. "hello" should not be said on this occasion because it is too "familiar" for the solemnity of church surroundings. =shaking hands= gentlemen always shake hands when they are introduced to each other. ladies rarely do so with gentlemen who are introduced to them; but they usually shake hands with other ladies, if they are standing near together. all people who know each other, unless merely passing by, shake hands when they meet. a gentleman on the street never shakes hands with a lady without first removing his right glove. but at the opera, or at a ball, or if he is usher at a wedding, he keeps his glove on. =personality of a handshake= a handshake often creates a feeling of liking or of irritation between two strangers. who does not dislike a "boneless" hand extended as though it were a spray of sea-weed, or a miniature boiled pudding? it is equally annoying to have one's hand clutched aloft in grotesque affectation and shaken violently sideways, as though it were being used to clean a spot out of the atmosphere. what woman does not wince at the viselike grasp that cuts her rings into her flesh and temporarily paralyzes every finger? the proper handshake is made briefly; but there should be a feeling of strength and warmth in the clasp, and, as in bowing, one should at the same time look into the countenance of the person whose hand one takes. in giving her hand to a foreigner, a married woman always relaxes her arm and fingers, as it is customary for him to lift her hand to his lips. but by a relaxed hand is not meant a wet rag; a hand should have life even though it be passive. a woman should always allow a man who is only an acquaintance to shake her hand; she should never shake his. to a very old friend she gives a much firmer clasp, but he shakes her hand more than she shakes his. younger women usually shake the hand of the older; or they both merely clasp hands, give them a dropping movement rather than a shake, and let go. =polite greetings from younger to older= it is the height of rudeness for young people not to go and shake hands with an older lady of their acquaintance when they meet her away from home, if she is a hostess to whose house they have often gone. it is not at all necessary for either young women or young men to linger and enter into a conversation, unless the older lady detains them, which she should not do beyond the briefest minute. older ladies who are always dragging young men up to unprepossessing partners, are studiously avoided and with reason; but otherwise it is inexcusable for any youth to fail in this small exaction of polite behavior. if a young man is talking with some one when an older lady enters the room, he bows formally from where he is, as it would be rude to leave a young girl standing alone while he went up to speak to mrs. worldly or mrs. toplofty. but a young girl passing near an older lady can easily stop for a moment, say "how do you do, mrs. jones!" and pass on. people do not cross a room to speak to any one unless--to show politeness to an acquaintance who is a stranger there; to speak to an intimate friend; or to talk to some one about something in particular. chapter iv salutations of courtesy =when a gentleman takes off his hat= a gentleman takes off his hat and holds it in his hand when a lady enters the elevator in which he is a passenger, but he puts it on again in the corridor. a public corridor is like the street, but an elevator is suggestive of a room, and a gentleman does not keep his hat on in the presence of ladies in a house. this is the rule in elevators in hotels, clubs and apartments. in office buildings and stores the elevator is considered as public a place as the corridor. what is more, the elevators in such business structures are usually so crowded that the only room for a man's hat is on his head. but even under these conditions a gentleman can reveal his innate respect for women by not permitting himself to be crowded too near to them. when a gentleman stops to speak to a lady of his acquaintance in the street, he takes his hat off with his left hand, leaving his right free to shake hands, or he takes it off with his right and transfers it to his left. if he has a stick, he puts his stick in his left hand, takes off his hat with his right, transfers his hat also to his left hand, and gives her his right. if they walk ahead together, he at once puts his hat on; but while he is standing in the street talking to her, he should remain hatless. there is no rudeness greater than for him to stand talking to a lady with his hat on, and a cigar or cigarette in his mouth. a gentleman always rises when a lady comes into a room. in public places men do not jump up for every strange woman who happens to approach. but if any woman addresses a remark to him, a gentleman at once rises to his feet as he answers her. in a restaurant, when a lady bows to him, a gentleman merely makes the gesture of rising by getting up half way from his chair and at the same time bowing. then he sits down again. when a lady goes to a gentleman's office on business he should stand up to receive her, offer her a chair, and not sit down until after she is seated. when she rises to leave, he must get up instantly and stand until she has left the office. it is not necessary to add that every american citizen stands with his hat off at the passing of the "colors" and when the national anthem is played. if he didn't, some other more loyal citizen would take it off for him. also every man should stand with his hat off in the presence of a funeral that passes close or blocks his way. =a gentleman lifts his hat= lifting the hat is a conventional gesture of politeness shown to strangers only, not to be confused with bowing, which is a gesture used to acquaintances and friends. in lifting his hat, a gentleman merely lifts it slightly off his forehead and replaces it; he does not smile nor bow, nor even look at the object of his courtesy. no gentleman ever subjects a lady to his scrutiny or his apparent observation. if a lady drops her glove, a gentleman should pick it up, hurry ahead of her--on no account nudge her--offer the glove to her and say: "i think you dropped this!" the lady replies: "thank you." the gentleman should then lift his hat and turn away. if he passes a lady in a narrow space, so that he blocks her way or in any manner obtrudes upon her, he lifts his hat as he passes. if he gets on a street car and the car gives a lurch just as he is about to be seated and throws him against another passenger, he lifts his hat and says "excuse me!" or "i beg your pardon!" he must _not_ say "pardon _me_!" he must not take a seat if there are ladies standing. but if he is sitting and ladies enter, should they be young, he may with perfect propriety keep his seat. if a very old woman, or a young one carrying a baby, enters the car, a gentleman rises at once, lifts his hat slightly, and says: "please take my seat." he lifts his hat again when she thanks him. if the car is very crowded when he wishes to leave it and a lady is directly in his way, he asks: "may i get through, please?" as she makes room for him to pass, he lifts his hat and says: "thank you!" if he is in the company of a lady in a street car, he lifts his hat to another gentleman who offers her a seat, picks up something she has dropped, or shows her any civility. he lifts his hat if he asks anyone a question, and always, if, when walking on the street with either a lady or a gentleman, his companion bows to another person. in other words, a gentleman lifts his hat whenever he says "excuse me," "thank you," or speaks to a stranger, or is spoken to by a lady, or by an older gentleman. and no gentleman ever keeps a pipe, cigar or cigarette in his mouth when he lifts his hat, takes it off, or bows. =the bow of ceremony= the standing bow, made by a gentleman when he rises at a dinner to say a few words, in response to applause, or across a drawing-room at a formal dinner when he bows to a lady or an elderly gentleman, is usually the outcome of the bow taught little boys at dancing school. the instinct of clicking heels together and making a quick bend over from the hips and neck, as though the human body had two hinges, a big one at the hip and a slight one at the neck, and was quite rigid in between, remains in a modified form through life. the man who as a child came habitually into his mother's drawing-room when there was "company," generally makes a charming bow when grown, which is wholly lacking in self-consciousness. there is no apparent "heel-clicking" but a camera would show that the motion is there. in every form of bow, as distinct from merely lifting his hat, a gentleman looks at the person he is bowing to. in a very formal standing bow, his heels come together, his knees are rigid and his expression is rather serious. =the informal bow= the informal bow is merely a modification of the above; it is easy and unstudied, but it should suggest the ease of controlled muscles, not the floppiness of a rag doll. in bowing on the street, a gentleman should never take his hat off with a flourish, nor should he sweep it down to his knee; nor is it graceful to bow by pulling the hat over the face as though examining the lining. the correct bow, when wearing a high hat or derby, is to lift it by holding the brim directly in front, take it off merely high enough to escape the head easily, bring it a few inches forward, the back somewhat up, the front down, and put it on again. to a very old lady or gentleman, to show adequate respect, a sweeping bow is sometimes made by a somewhat exaggerated circular motion downward to perhaps the level of the waist, so that the hat's position is upside down. if a man is wearing a soft hat he takes it by the crown instead of the brim, lifts it slightly off his head and puts it on again. the bow to a friend is made with a smile, to a very intimate friend often with a broad grin that fits exactly with the word "hello"; whereas the formal bow is mentally accompanied by the formal salutation: "how do you do!" =the bow of a woman of charm= the reputation of southern women for having the gift of fascination is perhaps due not to prettiness of feature more than to the brilliancy or sweetness of their ready smile. that southern women are charming and "feminine" and lovable is proverbial. how many have noticed that southern women always bow with the grace of a flower bending in the breeze and a smile like sudden sunshine? the unlovely woman bows as though her head were on a hinge and her smile sucked through a lemon. nothing is so easy for any woman to acquire as a charming bow. it is such a short and fleeting duty. not a bit of trouble really; just to incline your head and spontaneously smile as though you thought "why, _there_ is mrs. smith! how glad i am to see her!" even to a stranger who does her a favor, a woman of charm always smiles as she says "thank you!" as a possession for either woman or man, a ready smile is more valuable in life than a ready wit; the latter may sometimes bring enemies, but the former always brings friends. =when to bow= under formal circumstances a lady is supposed to bow to a gentleman first; but people who know each other well bow spontaneously without observing this etiquette. in meeting the same person many times within an hour or so, one does not continue to bow after the second, or at most third meeting. after that one either looks away or merely smiles. unless one has a good memory for people, it is always better to bow to some one whose face is familiar than to run the greater risk of ignoring an acquaintance. =the "cut direct"= for one person to look directly at another and not acknowledge the other's bow is such a breach of civility that only an unforgivable misdemeanor can warrant the rebuke. nor without the gravest cause may a lady "cut" a gentleman. but there are no circumstances under which a gentleman may "cut" any woman who, even by courtesy, can be called a lady. on the other hand, one must not confuse absent-mindedness, or a forgetful memory with an intentional "cut." anyone who is preoccupied is apt to pass others without being aware of them, and without the least want of friendly regard. others who have bad memories forget even those by whom they were much attracted. this does not excuse the bad memory, but it explains the seeming rudeness. a "cut" is very different. it is a direct stare of blank refusal, and is not only insulting to its victim but embarrassing to every witness. happily it is practically unknown in polite society. chapter v on the street and in public =walking on the street= a gentleman, whether walking with two ladies or one, takes the curb side of the pavement. he should never sandwich himself between them. a young man walking with a young woman should be careful that his manner in no way draws attention to her or to himself. too devoted a manner is always conspicuous, and so is loud talking. under no circumstances should he take her arm, or grasp her by or above the elbow, and shove her here and there, unless, of course, to save her from being run over! he should not walk along hitting things with his stick. the small boy's delight in drawing a stick along a picket fence should be curbed in the nursery! and it is scarcely necessary to add that no gentleman walks along the street chewing gum or, if he is walking with a lady, puffing a cigar or cigarette. all people in the streets, or anywhere in public, should be careful not to talk too loud. they should especially avoid pronouncing people's names, or making personal remarks that may attract passing attention or give a clue to themselves. one should never call out a name in public, unless it is absolutely unavoidable. a young girl who was separated from her friends in a baseball crowd had the presence of mind to put her hat on her parasol and lift it above the people surrounding her so that her friends might find her. do not attract attention to yourself in public. this is one of the fundamental rules of good breeding. shun conspicuous manners, conspicuous clothes, a loud voice, staring at people, knocking into them, talking across anyone--in a word do not attract attention to yourself. do not expose your private affairs, feelings or innermost thoughts in public. you are knocking down the walls of your house when you do. =gentlemen and bundles= nearly all books on etiquette insist that a "gentleman must offer to carry a lady's bundles." bundles do not suggest a lady in the first place, and as for gentlemen and bundles!--they don't go together at all. very neat packages that could never without injury to their pride be designated as "bundles" are different. such, for instance, might be a square, smoothly wrapped box of cigars, candy, or books. also, a gentleman might carry flowers, or a basket of fruit, or, in fact, any package that looks tempting. he might even stagger under bags and suitcases, or a small trunk--but carry a "bundle"? not twice! and yet, many an unknowing woman, sometimes a very young and pretty one, too, has asked a relative, a neighbor, or an admirer, to carry something suggestive of a pillow, done up in crinkled paper and odd lengths of joined string. then she wonders afterwards in unenlightened surprise why her cousin, or her neighbor, or her admirer, who is one of the smartest men in town, never comes to see her any more! =a gentleman offers his arm= to an old lady or to an invalid a gentleman offers his arm if either of them wants his support. otherwise a lady no longer leans upon a gentleman in the daytime, unless to cross a very crowded thoroughfare, or to be helped over a rough piece of road, or under other impeding circumstances. in accompanying a lady anywhere at night, whether down the steps of a house, or from one building to another, or when walking a distance, a gentleman always offers his arm. the reason is that in her thin high-heeled slippers, and when it is too dark to see her foothold clearly, she is likely to trip. under any of these circumstances when he proffers his assistance, he might say: "don't you think you had better take my arm? you might trip." or--"wouldn't it be easier if you took my arm along here? the going is pretty bad." otherwise the only occasions on which a gentleman offers his arm to a lady are in taking her in at a formal dinner, or taking her in to supper at a ball, or when he is an usher at a wedding. even in walking across a ballroom, except at a public ball in the grand march, it is the present fashion for the younger generation to walk side by side, never arm in arm. this, however, is merely an instance where etiquette and the custom of the moment differ. old-fashioned gentlemen still offer their arm, and it is, and long will be, in accordance with etiquette to do so. but etiquette does _not_ permit a gentleman to take a lady's arm! in seeing a lady to her carriage or motor, it is quite correct for a gentleman to put his hand under her elbow to assist her; and in helping her out he should alight first and offer her his hand. he should not hold a parasol over her head unless momentarily while she searches in her wrist-bag for something, or stops perhaps to put on or take off her glove, or do anything that occupies both hands. with an umbrella the case is different, especially in a sudden and driving rain, when she is often very busily occupied in trying to hold "good" clothes out of the wet and a hat on, as well. she may also, under these circumstances, take the gentleman's arm, if the "going" is thereby made any easier. =a lady never "on the left"= the owner always sits on the right hand side of the rear seat of a carriage or a motor, that is driven by a coachman or a chauffeur. if the vehicle belongs to a lady, she should take her own place always, unless she relinquishes it to a guest whose rank is above her own, such as that of the wife of the president or the governor. if a man is the owner, he must, on the contrary, give a lady the right hand seat. whether in a private carriage, a car or a taxi, a lady must _never_ sit on a gentleman's left; because according to european etiquette, a lady "on the left" is _not_ a "lady." although this etiquette is not strictly observed in america, no gentleman should risk allowing even a single foreigner to misinterpret a lady's position. =awkward questions of payment= it is becoming much less customary than it used to be for a gentleman to offer to pay a lady's way. if in taking a ferry or a subway, a young woman stops to buy magazines, chocolates, or other trifles, a young man accompanying her usually offers to pay for them. she quite as usually answers: "don't bother, i have it!" and puts the change on the counter. it would be awkward for him to protest, and bad taste to press the point. but usually in small matters such as a subway fare, he pays for two. if he invites her to go to a ball game, or to a matinée or to tea, he naturally buys the tickets and any refreshment which they may have. very often it happens that a young woman and a young man who are bound for the same house party, at a few hours' distance from the place where they both live, take the same train--either by accident or by pre-arrangement. in this case the young woman should pay for every item of her journey. she should not let her companion pay for her parlor car seat or for her luncheon; nor should he, when they arrive at their destination, tip the porter for carrying her bag. a gentleman who is by chance sitting next to a lady of his acquaintance on a train or boat, should never think of offering to pay for her seat or for anything she may buy from the vendor. =the "escort"= notwithstanding the fact that he is met, all dressed in his best store clothes, with his "lady friend" leaning on his arm, in the pages of counterfeit society novels and unauthoritative books on etiquette, there is no such actual person known to good society--at least not in new york or any great city--as an escort, he is not only unknown, but he is impossible. in good society ladies do not go about under the "care of" gentlemen! it is unheard of for a gentleman to "take" a young girl alone to a dance or to dine or to parties of any description; nor can she accept his sponsorship anywhere whatsoever. a well behaved young girl goes to public dances only when properly chaperoned and to a private dance with her mother or else accompanied by her maid, who waits for her the entire evening in the dressing room. it is not only improper, it is impossible for any man to take a lady to a party of any sort, to which she has not been personally invited by the hostess. a lady may never be under the "protection" of a man _anywhere_! a young girl is not even taken about by her betrothed. his friends send invitations to her on his account, it is true, and, if possible, he accompanies her, but correct invitations must be sent by them to her, or she should not go. older ladies are often thoughtless and say to a young man: "bring your fiancée to see me!" his answer should be: "indeed, i'd love to any time you telephone her"; or, "i know she'd love to come if you'd ask her." if the lady stupidly persists in casually saying, "do bring her," he must smile and say lightly: "but i can't bring her without an invitation from you." or, he merely evades the issue, and does not bring her. =the restaurant check= everyone has at some time or other been subjected to the awkward moment when the waiter presents the check to the host. for a host to count up the items is suggestive of parsimony, while not to look at them is disconcertingly reckless, and to pay before their faces for what his guests have eaten is embarrassing. having the check presented to a hostess when gentlemen are among her guests, is more unpleasant. therefore, to avoid this whole transaction, people who have not charge accounts, should order the meal ahead, and at the same time pay for it in advance, including the waiter's tip. charge customers should make arrangements to have the check presented to them elsewhere than at table. =in stores or shops= lack of consideration for those who in any capacity serve you, is always an evidence of ill-breeding, as well as of inexcusable selfishness. occasionally a so-called "lady" who has nothing whatever to do but drive uptown or down in her comfortable limousine, vents her irritability upon a saleswoman at a crowded counter in a store, because she does not leave other customers and wait immediately upon her. then, perhaps, when the article she asked for is not to be had, she complains to the floor-walker about the saleswoman's stupidity! or having nothing that she can think of to occupy an empty hour on her hands, she demands that every sort of material be dragged down from the shelves until, discovering that it is at last time for her appointment, she yawns and leaves. of course, on the other hand, there is the genuinely lethargic saleswoman whose mind doesn't seem to register a single syllable that you have said to her; who, with complete indifference to you and your preferences, insists on showing what you distinctly say you do not want, and who caps the climax by drawling "they" are wearing it this season! does that sort of saleswoman ever succeed in selling anything? does anyone living buy anything because someone, who knows nothing, tells another, who is often an expert, what an indiscriminating "they" may be doing? that kind of a saleswoman would try to tell kreisler that "they" are not using violins this season! there are always two sides to the case, of course, and it is a credit to good manners that there is scarcely ever any friction in stores and shops of the first class. salesmen and women are usually persons who are both patient and polite, and their customers are most often ladies in fact as well as "by courtesy." between those before and those behind the counters, there has sprung up in many instances a relationship of mutual goodwill and friendliness. it is, in fact, only the woman who is afraid that someone may encroach upon her exceedingly insecure dignity, who shows neither courtesy nor consideration to any except those whom she considers it to her advantage to please. =regard for others= consideration for the rights and feelings of others is not merely a rule for behavior in public but the very foundation upon which social life is built. rule of etiquette the first--which hundreds of others merely paraphrase or explain or elaborate--is: never do anything that is unpleasant to others. never take more than your share--whether of the road in driving a car, of chairs on a boat or seats on a train, or food at the table. people who picnic along the public highway leaving a clutter of greasy paper and swill (not, a pretty name, but neither is it a pretty object!) for other people to walk or drive past, and to make a breeding place for flies, and furnish nourishment for rats, choose a disgusting way to repay the land-owner for the liberty they took in temporarily occupying his property. chapter vi at the opera, the theater, and other public gatherings excepting a religious ceremonial, there is no occasion where greater dignity of manner is required of ladies and gentlemen both, than in occupying a box at the opera. for a gentleman especially no other etiquette is so exacting. in walking about in the foyer of the opera house, a gentleman leaves his coat in the box--or in his orchestra chair--but he always wears his high hat. the "collapsible" hat is for use in the seats rather than in the boxes, but it can be worn perfectly well by a guest in the latter if he hasn't a "silk" one. a gentleman must always be in full dress, tail coat, white waistcoat, white tie and white gloves whether he is seated in the orchestra or a box. he wears white gloves nowhere else except at a ball, or when usher at a wedding. as people usually dine with their hostess before the opera, they arrive together; the gentlemen assist the ladies to lay off their wraps, one of the gentlemen (whichever is nearest) draws back the curtain dividing the ante-room from the box, and the ladies enter, followed by the gentlemen, the last of whom closes the curtain again. if there are two ladies besides the hostess, the latter places her most distinguished or older guest in the corner nearest the stage. the seat furthest from the stage is always her own. the older guest takes her seat first, then the hostess takes her place, whereupon the third lady goes forward in the center to the front of the box, and stands until one of the gentlemen places a chair for her between the other two. (the chairs are arranged in three rows, of one on either side with an aisle left between.) one of the duties of the gentlemen is to see that the curtains at the back of the box remain tightly closed, as the light from the ante-room shining in the faces of others in the audience across the house is very disagreeable to them. a gentleman never sits in the front row of a box, even though he is for a time alone in it. =as to visiting= it is the custom for a gentleman who is a guest in one box to pay visits to friends in other boxes during the entr'actes. he must visit none but ladies of his acquaintance and must never enter a box in which he knows only the gentlemen, and expect to be introduced to the ladies. if arthur norman, for instance, wishes to present a gentleman to mrs. gilding in her box at the opera, he must first ask her if he may bring his friend james dawson. (he would on no account speak of him as mr. dawson unless he is an elderly person.) a lady's box at the opera is actually her house, and only those who are acceptable as visitors in her house should ask to be admitted. but it is quite correct for a gentleman to go into a stranger's box to speak to a lady who is a friend of his, just as he would go to see her if she were staying in a stranger's house. but he should not go into the box of one he does not know, to speak to a lady with whom he has only a slight acquaintance, since visits are not paid quite so casually to ladies who are themselves visitors. upon a gentleman's entering a box it is obligatory for whoever is sitting behind the lady to whom the arriving gentleman's visit is addressed, to relinquish his chair. another point of etiquette is that a gentleman must never leave the ladies of his own box alone. occasionally it happens that the gentlemen in mrs. gilding's box, for instance, have all relinquished their places to visitors and have themselves gone to mrs. worldly's or mrs. jones' or mrs. town's boxes. mrs. gilding's guests must, from the vantage point of the worldly, jones or town boxes, keep a watchful eye on their hostess and instantly return to her support when they see her visitors about to leave, even though the ladies whom they are momentarily visiting be left to themselves. it is of course the duty of the other gentlemen who came to the opera with mrs. worldly, mrs. jones or mrs. town to hurry to them. a gentleman must never stay in any box that he does not belong in, after the lowering of the lights for the curtain. nor, in spite of cartoons to the contrary, does good taste permit conversation during the performance or during the overture. box holders arriving late or leaving before the final curtain do so as quietly as possible and always without speaking. =a "brilliant opera night"= a "brilliant opera night," which one often hears spoken of (meaning merely that all the boxes are occupied, and that the ladies are more elaborately dressed than usual) is generally a night when a leader of fashion such as mrs. worldly, mrs. gilding, or mrs. toplofty, is giving a ball; and most of the holders of the parterre boxes are in ball dresses, with an unusual display of jewels. or a house will be particularly "brilliant" if a very great singer is appearing in a new rôle, or if a personage be present, as when marshal joffre went to the metropolitan. =after the performance= one gentleman, at least, must wait in the carriage lobby until all the ladies in his party have driven away. _never_ under any circumstances may "the last" gentleman leave a lady standing alone on the sidewalk. it is the duty of the hostess to take all unattended ladies home who have not a private conveyance of their own, but the obligation does not extend to married couples or odd men. but if a married lady or widow has ordered her own car to come for her, the odd gentleman waits with her until it appears. it is then considerate for her to offer him a "lift," but it is equally proper for her to thank him for waiting and drive off alone. =at the theater= new yorkers of highest fashion almost never occupy a box at the theater. at the opera the world of fashion is to be seen in the parterre boxes (not the first tier), and in boxes at some of the horse shows and at many public charity balls and entertainments, but those in boxes at the theater are usually "strangers" or "outsiders." no one can dispute that the best theater seats are those in the center of the orchestra. a box in these days of hatlessness has nothing to recommend it except that the people can sit in a group and gentlemen can go out between the acts easily, but these advantages hardly make up for the disadvantage to four or at least three out of the six box occupants who see scarcely a slice of the stage. =will you dine and go to the play?= there is no more popular or agreeable way of entertaining people than to ask them to "dine and go to the play." the majority do not even prefer to have "opera" substituted for "play," because those who care for serious music are a minority compared with those who like the theater. if a bachelor gives a small theater party he usually takes his guests to dine at the fitz-cherry or some other fashionable and "amusing" restaurant, but a married couple living in their own house are more likely to dine at home, unless they belong to a type prevalent in new york which is "restaurant mad." the gildings, in spite of the fact that their own chef is the best there is, are much more apt to dine in a restaurant before going to a play--or if they don't dine in a restaurant, they go to one for supper afterwards. but the normans, if they ask people to dine and go to the theater, invariably dine at home. a theater party can of course be of any size, but six or eight is the usual number, and the invitations are telephoned: "will mr. and mrs. lovejoy dine with mr. and mrs. norman at seven-thirty on tuesday and go to the play?" or "will mr. and mrs. oldname dine with mr. clubwin doe on saturday at the toit d'or and go to the play?" when mr. and mrs. oldname "accept with pleasure" a second message is given: "dinner will be at . ." mrs. norman's guests go to her house. mr. doe's guests meet him in the foyer of the toit d'or. but the guests at both dinners are taken to the theater by their host. if a dinner is given by a hostess who has no car of her own, a guest will sometimes ask: "don't you want me to have the car come back for us?" the hostess can either say to an intimate friend "why, yes, thank you very much," or to a more formal acquaintance, "no, thank you just the same--i have ordered taxis." or she can accept. there is no rule beyond her own feelings in the matter. mr. doe takes his guests to the theater in taxis. the normans, if only the lovejoys are dining with them, go in mrs. norman's little town car, but if there are to be six or eight, the ladies go in her car and the gentlemen follow in a taxi. (unless mrs. worldly or mrs. gilding are in the party and order their cars back.) =tickets bought in advance= before inviting anyone to go to a particular play, a hostess must be sure that good tickets are to be had. she should also try to get seats for a play that is new; since it is dull to take people to something they have already seen. this is not difficult in cities where new plays come to town every week, but in new york, where the same ones run for a year or more, it is often a choice between an old good one or a new one that is poor. if intimate friends are coming, a hostess usually asks them what they want to see and tries to get tickets accordingly. it is really unnecessary to add that one must never ask people to go to a place of public amusement and then stand in line to get seats at the time of the performance. =going down the aisle of a theater= the host, or whichever gentleman has the tickets, (if there is no host, the hostess usually hands them to one of the, gentlemen before leaving her house), goes down the aisle first and gives the checks to the usher, and the others follow in the order in which they are to sit and which the hostess must direct. it is necessary that each knows who follows whom, particularly if a theater party arrives after the curtain has gone up. if the hostess "forgets," the guests always ask before trooping down the aisle "how do you want us to sit?" for nothing is more awkward and stupid than to block the aisle at the row where their seats are, while their hostess "sorts them"; and worse yet, in her effort to be polite, sends the ladies to their seats first and then lets the gentlemen stumble across them to their own places. going down the aisle is not a question of precedence, but a question of seating. the one who is to sit eighth from the aisle, whether a lady or a gentleman, goes first, then the seventh, then the sixth, and if the gentleman with the checks is fifth, he goes in his turn and the fourth follows him. if a gentleman and his wife go to the theater alone, the question as to who goes down the aisle first depends on where the usher is. if the usher takes the checks at the head of the aisle, she follows the usher. otherwise the gentleman goes first with the checks. when their places are shown him, he stands aside for his wife to take her place first and then he takes his. a lady never sits in the aisle seat if she is with a gentleman. =good manners at the theater= in passing across people who are seated, always face the stage and press as close to the backs of the seats you are facing as you can. remember also not to drag anything across the heads of those sitting in front of you. at the moving pictures, especially when it is dark and difficult to see, a coat on an arm passing behind a chair can literally devastate the hair-dressing of a lady occupying it. if you are obliged to cross in front of some one who gets up to let you pass, say "thank you," or "thank you very much" or "i am very sorry." do _not_ say "pardon _me_!" or "beg pardon!" though you can say "i beg your pardon." that, however, would be more properly the expression to use if you brushed your coat over their heads, or spilled water over them, or did something to them for which you should actually _beg_ their pardon. but "beg pardon," which is an abbreviation, is one of the phrases never said in best society. gentlemen who want to go out after every act should always be sure to get aisle seats. there are no greater theater pests than those who come back after the curtain has gone up and temporarily snuff out the view of everyone behind, as well as annoy those who are obliged to stand up and let them by. between the acts nearly all gentlemen go out and smoke at least once, but those wedged in far from the aisle, who file out every time the curtain drops are utterly lacking in consideration for others. if there are five acts, they should at most go out for two entr'actes and even then be careful to come back before the curtain goes up. =very inconsiderate to giggle and talk= nothing shows less consideration for others than to whisper and rattle programmes and giggle and even make audible remarks throughout a performance. very young people love to go to the theater in droves called theater parties and absolutely ruin the evening for others who happen to sit in front of them. if mary and johnny and susy and tommy want to talk and giggle, why not arrange chairs in rows for them in a drawing-room, turn on a phonograph as an accompaniment and let them sit there and chatter! if those behind you insist on talking it is never good policy to turn around and glare. if you are young they pay no attention, and if you are older--most young people think an angry older person the funniest sight on earth! the small boy throws a snowball at an elderly gentleman for no other reason! the only thing you can do is to say amiably: "i'm sorry, but i can't hear anything while you talk." if they still persist, you can ask an usher to call the manager. the sentimental may as well realize that every word said above a whisper is easily heard by those sitting directly in front, and those who tell family or other private affairs might do well to remember this also. as a matter of fact, comparatively few people are ever anything but well behaved. those who arrive late and stand long, leisurely removing their wraps, and who insist on laughing and talking are rarely encountered; most people take their seats as quietly and quickly as they possibly can, and are quite as much interested in the play and therefore as attentive and quiet as you are. a very annoying person at the "movies" is one who reads every "caption" out loud. =proper theater clothes= at the evening performance in new york a lady wears a dinner dress; a gentleman a dinner coat, often called a tuxedo. full dress is not correct, but those going afterwards to a ball can perfectly well go to the theater first if they do not make themselves conspicuous. a lady in a ball dress and many jewels should avoid elaborate hair ornamentation and must keep her wrap, or at least a sufficiently opaque scarf, about her shoulders to avoid attracting people's attention. a gentleman in full dress is not conspicuous. and on the subject of theater dress it might be tentatively remarked that prinking and "making up" in public are all part of an age which can not see fun in a farce without bedroom scenes and actors in pajamas, and actresses running about in negligés with their hair down. an audience which night after night watches people dressing and undressing probably gets into an unconscious habit of dressing or prinking itself. in other days it was always thought that so much as to adjust a hat-pin or glance in a glass was lack of breeding. every well brought up young woman was taught that she must finish dressing in her bedchamber. but to-day young women in theaters, restaurants, and other public places, are continually studying their reflection in little mirrors and patting their hair and powdering their noses and fixing this or adjusting that in a way that in mrs. oldname's girlhood would have absolutely barred them from good society; nor can mrs. worldly or mrs. oldname be imagined "preening" and "prinking" anywhere. they dress as carefully and as beautifully as possible, but when they turn away from the mirrors in their dressing rooms they never look in a glass or "take note of their appearance" until they dress again. and it must be granted that lucy gilding, constance style, celia lovejoy, mary smartlington and the other well-bred members of the younger set do not put finishing touches on their faces in public--as yet! =the courtesy of sending tickets early= most people are at times "obliged" to take tickets for various charity entertainments--balls, theatricals, concerts or pageants--to which, if they do not care to go themselves, they give away their tickets. those who intend giving tickets should remember that a message, "can you use two tickets for the russian ballet to-night?" sent at seven o'clock that same evening, after the lovejoys have settled themselves for an evening at home (celia having decided not to curl her hair and donald having that morning sent his only dinner coat to be re-faced) can not give the same pleasure that their earlier offer would have given. an opera box sent on the morning of the opera is worse, since to find four music-loving people to fill it on such short notice at the height of the season is an undertaking that few care to attempt. =a big theater party= a big theater party is one of the favorite entertainments given for a débutante. if fifty or more are to be asked, invitations are sometimes engraved. mrs. toplofty requests the pleasure of [_name of guest is written on this line._] company at the theater and a small dance afterward in honor of her great-niece miss millicent gilding on tuesday the sixth of january at half past eight o'clock r.s.v.p. but--and usually--the "general utility" invitation (see page ) is filled in, as follows: [hw: to meet miss millicent gilding] mrs. toplofty requests the pleasure of [hw: miss rosalie gray's] company at [hw: the theater and at a dance] on [hw: tuesday the sixth of january] at [hw: : ] r.s.v.p. or notes in either wording above are written by hand. all those who accept have a ticket sent them. each ticket sent a débutante is accompanied by a visiting card on which is written: "be in the lobby of the comedy theater at . . order your motor to come for you at fifth avenue at a.m." on the evening of the theater party, mrs. toplofty herself stands in the lobby to receive the guests. as soon as any who are to sit next to each other have arrived, they are sent into the theater; each gives her (or his) ticket to an usher and sits in the place alloted to her (or him). it is well for the hostess to have a seat plan for her own use in case thoughtless young people mix their tickets all up and hand them to an usher in a bunch! and yet--if they do mix themselves to their own satisfaction, she would better "leave them" than attempt to disturb a plan that may have had more method in it than madness. when the last young girl has arrived, mrs. toplofty goes into the theater herself (she does not bother to wait for any boys), and in this one instance she very likely sits in a stage box so as to "keep her eye on them," and with her she has two or three of her own friends. after the theater, big motor busses drive them all either to the house of the hostess or to a hotel for supper and to dance. if they go to a hotel, a small ballroom must be engaged and the dance is a private one; it would be considered out of place to take a lot of very young people to a public cabaret. carelessly chaperoned young girls are sometimes, it is true, seen in very questionable places because some of the so-called dancing restaurants are perfectly fit and proper for them to go to; many other places however, are not, and for the sake of general appearances it is safer to make it a rule that no very young girl should go anywhere after the theater except to a private house or a private dance or ball. older people, on the other hand, very often go for a supper to one of the cabarets for which new york is famous (or infamous?), or perhaps go to watch a vaudeville performance at midnight, or dance, or do both together. others, if they are among the great majority of "quiet" people, go home after the theater, especially if they have dined with their hostess (or host) before the play. =don't be late= when you are dining before going to the opera or theater you must arrive on the stroke of the hour for which you are asked; it is one occasion when it is inexcusable to be late. in accepting an invitation for lunch or dinner after which you are going to a game, or any sort of performance, you must not be late! nothing is more unfair to others who are keen about whatever it is you are going to see, than to make them miss the beginning of a performance through your thoughtless selfishness. for this reason box-holders who are music-lovers do not ask guests who have the "late habit" to dine before the opera, because experience has taught them they will miss the overture and most of the first act if they do. those, on the other hand, who care nothing for music and go to the opera to see people and be seen, seldom go until most if not all of the first act is over. but these in turn might give music-loving guests their choice of going alone in time for the overture and waiting for them in the box at the opera, or having the pleasure of dining with their hostess but missing most of the first part. =at games, the circus or elsewhere= considerate and polite behavior by each member of an audience is the same everywhere. at outdoor games, or at the circus, it is not necessary to stop talking. in fact, a good deal of noise is not out of the way in "rooting" at a match, and a circus band does not demand silence in order to appreciate its cheerful blare. one very great annoyance in open air gatherings is cigar smoke when blown directly in one's face, or worse yet the smoke from a smouldering cigar. it is almost worthy of a study in air currents to discover why with plenty of space all around, a tiny column of smoke will make straight for the nostrils of the very one most nauseated by it! the only other annoyance met with at ball games or parades or wherever people occupy seats on the grandstand, is when some few in front get excited and insist on standing up. if those in front stand--those behind naturally have to! generally people call out "down in front." if they won't stay "down," then all those behind have to stay "up." also umbrellas and parasols entirely blot out the view of those behind. chapter vii conversation =need of reciprocity= ideal conversation should be a matter of equal give and take, but too often it is all "take." the voluble talker--or chatterer--rides his own hobby straight through the hours without giving anyone else, who might also like to say something, a chance to do other than exhaustedly await the turn that never comes. once in a while--a very long while--one meets a brilliant person whose talk is a delight; or still more rarely a wit who manipulates every ordinary topic with the agility of a sleight-of-hand performer, to the ever increasing rapture of his listeners. but as a rule the man who has been led to believe that he is a brilliant and interesting talker has been led to make himself a rapacious pest. no conversation is possible between others whose ears are within reach of his ponderous voice; anecdotes, long-winded stories, dramatic and pathetic, stock his repertoire; but worst of all are his humorous yarns at which he laughs uproariously though every one else grows solemn and more solemn. there is a simple rule, by which if one is a voluble chatterer (to be a good talker necessitates a good mind) one can at least refrain from being a pest or a bore. and the rule is merely, to stop and think. ="think before you speak"= nearly all the faults or mistakes in conversation are caused by not thinking. for instance, a first rule for behavior in society is: "try to do and say those things only which will be agreeable to others." yet how many people, who really know better, people who are perfectly capable of intelligent understanding if they didn't let their brains remain asleep or locked tight, go night after night to dinner parties, day after day to other social gatherings, and absent-mindedly prate about this or that without ever taking the trouble to _think_ what they are saying and to whom they are saying it! would a young mother describe twenty or thirty cunning tricks and sayings of the baby to a bachelor who has been helplessly put beside her at dinner if she _thought_? she would know very well, alas! that not even a very dear friend would really care for more than a _hors d'oeuvre_ of the subject, at the board of general conversation. the older woman is even worse, unless something occurs (often when it is too late) to make her wake up and realize that she not only bores her hearers but prejudices everyone against her children by the unrestraint of her own praise. the daughter who is continually lauded as the most captivating and beautiful girl in the world, seems to the wearied perceptions of enforced listeners annoying and plain. in the same way the "magnificent" son is handicapped by his mother's--or his father's--overweening pride and love in exact proportion to its displayed intensity. on the other hand, the neglected wife, the unappreciated husband, the misunderstood child, takes on a glamor in the eyes of others equally out of proportion. that great love has seldom perfect wisdom is one of the great tragedies in the drama of life. in the case of the overloving wife or mother, some one should love _her_ enough to make her _stop and think_ that her loving praise is not merely a question of boring her hearers but of handicapping unfairly those for whom she would gladly lay down her life--and yet few would have the courage to point out to her that she would far better lay down her tongue. the cynics say that those who take part in social conversation are bound to be either the bores or the bored; and that which you choose to be, is a mere matter of selection. and there must be occasions in the life of everyone when the cynics seem to be right; the man of affairs who, sitting next to an attractive looking young woman, is regaled throughout dinner with the detailed accomplishments of the young woman's husband; the woman of intellect who must listen with interest to the droolings of an especially prosy man who holds forth on the super-everything of his own possessions, can not very well consider that the evening was worth dressing, sitting up, and going out for. people who talk too easily are apt to talk too much, and at times imprudently, and those with vivid imagination are often unreliable in their statements. on the other hand the "man of silence" who never speaks except when he has something "worth while" to say, is apt to wear well among his intimates, but is not likely to add much to the gaiety of a party. try not to repeat yourself; either by telling the same story again and again or by going back over details of your narrative that seemed especially to interest or amuse your hearer. many things are of interest when briefly told and for the first time; _nothing_ interests when too long dwelt upon; little interests that is told a second time. the exception is something very pleasant that you have heard about a. or more especially a.'s child, which having already told a. you can then tell b., and later c. in a.'s presence. never do this as a habit, however, and never drag the incident into the conversation merely to flatter a., since if a. is a person of taste, he will be far more apt to resent than be pleased by flattery that borders on the fulsome. be careful not to let amiable discussion turn into contradiction and argument. the tactful person keeps his prejudices to himself and even when involved in a discussion says quietly "no. i don't think i agree with you" or "it seems to me thus and so." one who is well-bred never says "you are wrong!" or "nothing of the kind!" if he finds another's opinion utterly opposed to his own, he switches to another subject for a pleasanter channel of conversation. when some one is talking to you, it is inconsiderate to keep repeating "what did you say?" those who are deaf are often, obliged to ask that a sentence be repeated. otherwise their irrelevant answers would make them appear half-witted. but countless persons with perfectly good hearing say "what?" from force of habit and careless inattention. =the gift of humor= the joy of joys is the person of light but unmalicious humor. if you know any one who is gay, beguiling and amusing, you will, if you are wise, do everything you can to make him prefer your house and your table to any other; for where he is, the successful party is also. what he says is of no matter, it is the twist he gives to it, the intonation, the personality he puts into his quip or retort or observation that delights his hearers, and in his case the ordinary rules do not apply. eugene field could tell a group of people that it had rained to-day and would probably rain to-morrow, and make everyone burst into laughter--or tears if he chose--according to the way it was said. but the ordinary rest of us must, if we would be thought sympathetic, intelligent or agreeable, "go fishing." =going fishing for topics= the charming talker is neither more nor less than a fisherman. (fisherwoman rather, since in america women make more effort to be agreeable than men do.) sitting next to a stranger she wonders which "fly" she had better choose to interest him. she offers one topic; not much of a nibble. so she tries another or perhaps a third before he "rises" to the bait. =the door slammers= there are people whose idea of conversation is contradiction and flat statement. finding yourself next to one of these, you venture: "have you seen any good plays lately?" "no, hate the theater." "which team are you for in the series?" "neither. only an idiot could be interested in baseball." "country must have a good many idiots!" mockingly. "obviously it has." full stop. in desperation you veer to the personal. "i've never seen mrs. bobo gilding as beautiful as she is to-night." "nothing beautiful about her. as for the name 'bobo,' it's asinine." "oh, it's just one of those children's names that stick sometimes for life." "perfect rot. ought to be called by his name," etc. another, not very different in type though different in method, is the self-appointed instructor whose proper place is on the lecture platform, not at a dinner table. "the earliest coins struck in the peloponnesus were stamped on one side only; their alloy----" etc. another is the expounder of the obvious: "have you ever noticed," says he, deeply thinking, "how people's tastes differ?" then there is the vulgarian of fulsome compliment: "why are you so beautiful? it is not fair to the others----" and so on. =tactless blunderers= tactless people are also legion. the means-to-be-agreeable elderly man says to a passée acquaintance, "twenty years ago you were the prettiest woman in town"; or in the pleasantest tone of voice to one whose only son has married. "why is it, do you suppose, that young wives always dislike their mothers-in-law?" if you have any ambition to be sought after in society you must not talk about the unattractiveness of old age to the elderly, about the joys of dancing and skating to the lame, or about the advantages of ancestry to the self-made. it is also dangerous, as well as needlessly unkind, to ridicule or criticize others, especially for what they can't help. if a young woman's familiar or otherwise lax behavior deserves censure, a casual unflattering remark may not add to your own popularity if your listener is a relative, but you can at least, without being shamefaced, stand by your guns. on the other hand to say needlessly "what an ugly girl!" or "what a half-wit that boy is!" can be of no value except in drawing attention to your own tactlessness. the young girl who admired her own facile adjectives said to a casual acquaintance: "how _can_ you go about with that moth-eaten, squint-eyed, bag of a girl!" "because," answered the youth whom she had intended to dazzle, "the lady of your flattering epithets happens to be my sister." it is scarcely necessary to say that one whose tactless remarks ride rough-shod over the feelings of others, is not welcomed by many. =the bore= a bore is said to be "one who talks about himself when you want to talk about yourself!" which is superficially true enough, but a bore might more accurately be described as one who is interested in what does not interest you, and insists that you share his enthusiasm, in spite of your disinclination. to the bore life holds no dullness; every subject is of unending delight. a story told for the thousandth time has not lost its thrill; every tiresome detail is held up and turned about as a morsel of delectableness; to him each pea in a pod differs from another with the entrancing variety that artists find in tropical sunsets. on the other hand, to be bored is a bad habit, and one only too easy to fall into. as a matter of fact, it is impossible, almost, to meet anyone who has not _something_ of interest to tell you if you are but clever enough yourself to find out what it is. there are certain always delightful people who refuse to be bored. their attitude is that no subject need ever be utterly uninteresting, so long as it is discussed for the first time. repetition alone is deadly dull. besides, what is the matter with trying to be agreeable yourself? not _too_ agreeable. alas! it is true: "be polite to bores and so shall you have bores always round about you." furthermore, there is no reason why you should be bored when you can be otherwise. but if you find yourself sitting in the hedgerow with nothing but weeds, there is no reason for shutting your eyes and seeing nothing, instead of finding what beauty you may in the weeds. to put it cynically, life is too short to waste it in drawing blanks. therefore, it is up to you to find as many pictures to put on your blank pages as possible. =a few important details of speech in conversation= unless you wish to stamp yourself a person who has never been out of "provincial" society, never speak of your husband as "mr." except to an inferior. mrs. worldly for instance in talking with a stranger would say "my husband," and to a friend, meaning one not only whom she calls by her first name, but anyone on her "dinner list," she says, "dick thought the play amusing" or "dick said----". this does not give her listener the privilege of calling him "dick." the listener in return speaks of her own husband as "tom" even if he is seventy--unless her hearer is a very young person (either man or woman), when she would say "my husband." never "mr. older." to call your husband mr. means that you consider the person you are talking to, beneath you in station. mr. worldly in the same way speaks of mrs. worldly as "my wife" to a gentleman, or "edith" in speaking to a lady. _always._ in speaking about other people, one says "mrs.," "miss" or "mr." as the case may be. it is bad form to go about saying "edith worldly" or "ethel norman" to those who do not call them edith or ethel, and to speak thus familiarly of one whom you do not call by her first name, is unforgivable. it is also effrontery for a younger person to call an older by her or his first name, without being asked to do so. only a very underbred, thick-skinned person would attempt it. also you must not take your conversation "out of the drawing-room." operations, ills or personal blemishes, details and appurtenances of the dressing-room, for instance, are neither suitable nor pleasant topics, nor are personal jokes in good taste. =the "omniscience" of the very rich= why a man, because he has millions, should assume that they confer omniscience in all branches of knowledge, is something which may be left to the psychologist to answer, but most of those thrown much in contact with millionaires will agree that an attitude of infallibility is typical of a fair majority. a professor who has devoted his life to a subject modestly makes a statement. "you are all wrong," says the man of millions, "it is this way----". as a connoisseur he seems to think that because he can pay for anything he fancies, he is accredited expert as well as potential owner. topics he does not care for are "bosh," those which he has a smattering of, he simply appropriates; his prejudices are, in his opinion, expert criticism; his taste impeccable; his judgment infallible; and to him the world is a pleasance built for his sole pleasuring. but to the rest of us who also have to live in it with as much harmony as we can, such persons are certainly elephants at large in the garden. we can sometimes induce them to pass through gently, but they are just as likely at any moment to pull up our fences and push the house itself over on our defenseless heads. there are countless others of course, very often the richest of all, who are authoritative in all they profess, who are experts and connoisseurs, who are human and helpful and above everything respecters of the garden enclosure of others. =dangers to be avoided= in conversation the dangers are very much the same as those to be avoided in writing letters. talk about things which you think will be agreeable to your hearer. don't dilate on ills, misfortune, or other unpleasantnesses. the one in greatest danger of making enemies is the man or woman of brilliant wit. if sharp, wit is apt to produce a feeling of mistrust even while it stimulates. furthermore the applause which follows every witty sally becomes in time breath to the nostrils, and perfectly well-intentioned, people, who mean to say nothing unkind, in the flash of a second "see a point," and in the next second, score it with no more power to resist than a drug addict can resist a dose put into his hand! the mimic is a joy to his present company, but the eccentric mannerism of one is much easier to imitate than the charm of another, and the subjects of the habitual mimic are all too apt to become his enemies. you need not, however, be dull because you refrain from the rank habit of a critical attitude, which like a weed will grow all over the place if you let it have half a chance. a very good resolve to make and keep, if you would also keep any friends you make, is never to speak of anyone without, in imagination, having them overhear what you say. one often hears the exclamation "i would say it to her face!" at least be very sure that this is true, and not a braggart's phrase and then--nine times out of ten think better of it and refrain. preaching is all very well in a text-book, schoolroom or pulpit, but it has no place in society. society is supposed to be a pleasant place; telling people disagreeable things to their faces or behind their backs is _not_ a pleasant occupation. do not be too apparently clever if you would be popular. the cleverest woman is she who, in talking to a man, makes _him_ seem clever. this was mme. recamier's great charm. =a few maxims for those who talk too much--and easily!= the faults of commission are far more serious than those of omission; regrets are seldom for what you left unsaid. the chatterer reveals every corner of his shallow mind; one who keeps silent can not have his depth plumbed. don't pretend to know more than you do. to say you have read a book and then seemingly to understand nothing of what you have read, proves you a half-wit. only the very small mind hesitates to say "i don't know." above all, stop and _think_ what you are saying! this is really the first, last and only rule. if you "stop" you can't chatter or expound or flounder ceaselessly, and if you _think_, you will find a topic and a manner of presenting your topic so that your neighbor will be interested rather than long-suffering. remember also that the sympathetic (not apathetic) listener is the delight of delights. the person who looks glad to see you, who is seemingly eager for your news, or enthralled with your conversation; who looks at you with a kindling of the face, and gives you spontaneous and undivided attention, is the one to whom the palm for the art of conversation would undoubtedly be awarded. chapter viii words, phrases and pronunciation =phrases avoided in good society= it is difficult to explain why well-bred people avoid certain words and expressions that are admitted by etymology and grammar. so it must be merely stated that they have and undoubtedly always will avoid them. moreover, this choice of expression is not set forth in any printed guide or book on english, though it is followed in all literature. to liken best society to a fraternity, with the avoidance of certain seemingly unimportant words as the sign of recognition, is not a fantastic simile. people of the fashionable world invariably use certain expressions and instinctively avoid others; therefore when a stranger uses an "avoided" one he proclaims that he "does not belong," exactly as a pretended freemason proclaims himself an "outsider" by giving the wrong "grip"--or whatever it is by which brother masons recognize one another. people of position are people of position the world over--and by their speech are most readily known. appearance on the other hand often passes muster. a "show-girl" may be lovely to look at as she stands in a seemingly unstudied position and in perfect clothes. but let her say "my gawd!" or "wouldn't that jar you!" and where is her loveliness then? and yet, and this is the difficult part of the subject to make clear, the most vulgar slang like that quoted above, is scarcely worse than the attempted elegance which those unused to good society imagine to be the evidence of cultivation. people who say "i come," and "i seen it," and "i done it" prove by their lack of grammar that they had little education in their youth. unfortunate, very; but they may at the same time be brilliant, exceptional characters, loved by everyone who knows them, because they are what they seem and nothing else. but the caricature "lady" with the comic picture "society manner" who says "pardon _me_" and talks of "retiring," and "residing," and "desiring," and "being acquainted with," and "attending" this and that with "her escort," and curls her little finger over the handle of her teacup, and prates of "culture," does not belong to best society, and _never_ will! the offense of pretentiousness is committed oftener perhaps by women than by men, who are usually more natural and direct. a genuine, sincere, kindly american man--or woman--can go anywhere and be welcomed by everyone, provided of course, that he is a man of ability and intellect. one finds him all over the world, neither aping the manners of others nor treading on the sensibilities of those less fortunate than himself. occasionally too, there appears in best society a provincial in whose conversation is perceptible the influence of much reading of the bible. such are seldom if ever stilted or pompous or long-worded, but are invariably distinguished for the simplicity and dignity of their english. there is no better way to cultivate taste in words, than by constantly reading the best english. none of the words and expressions which are taboo in good society will be found in books of proved literary standing. but it must not be forgotten that there can be a vast difference between literary standing and popularity, and that many of the "best sellers" have no literary merit whatsoever. to be able to separate best english from merely good english needs a long process of special education, but to recognize bad english one need merely skim through a page of a book, and if a single expression in the left-hand column following can be found (unless purposely quoted in illustration of vulgarity) it is quite certain that the author neither writes best english nor belongs to best society. never say: correct form: in our residence we retire at our house we go to bed early (or arise) early (or get up) i desire to purchase i should like to buy make you acquainted with (see introductions) pardon _me_! i beg your pardon. or, excuse me! or, sorry! lovely food good food elegant home beautiful house--or place a stylish dresser she dresses well, or she wears lovely clothes charmed! or pleased to how do you do! meet you! attended went to i trust i am not trespassing i hope i am not in the way (unless trespassing on private property is actually meant) request (meaning ask) used only in the third person in formal written invitations. will you accord me permission? will you let me? or may i? permit me to assist you let me help you brainy brilliant or clever i presume i suppose tendered him a banquet gave him a dinner converse talk partook of liquid refreshment had something to drink perform ablutions wash a song entitled called (proper if used in legal sense) i will ascertain i will find out residence or mansion house, or big house in the home in some one's house or at home phone, photo, auto telephone, photograph, automobile "tintinnabulary summons," meaning bell, and "bovine continuation," meaning cow's tail, are more amusing than offensive, but they illustrate the theory of bad style that is pretentious. as examples of the very worst offenses that can be committed, the following are offered: "pray, accept my thanks for the flattering ovation you have tendered me." "yes," says the preposterous bride, "i am the recipient of many admired and highly prized gifts." "will you permit me to recall myself to you?" speaking of bridesmaids as "pretty servitors," "dispensing hospitality," asking any one to "step this way." many other expressions are provincial and one who seeks purity of speech should, if possible, avoid them, but as "offenses" they are minor: reckon, guess, calculate, or figure, meaning think. allow, meaning agree. folks, meaning family. cute, meaning pretty or winsome. well, i declare! 'pon my word! box party, meaning sitting in a box at the theater. visiting with, meaning talking to. there are certain words which have been singled out and misused by the undiscriminating until their value is destroyed. long ago "elegant" was turned from a word denoting the essence of refinement and beauty, into gaudy trumpery. "refined" is on the verge. but the pariah of the language is culture! a word rarely used by those who truly possess it, but so constantly misused by those who understand nothing of its meaning, that it is becoming a synonym for vulgarity and imitation. to speak of the proper use of a finger bowl or the ability to introduce two people without a blunder as being "evidence of culture of the highest degree" is precisely as though evidence of highest education were claimed for who ever can do sums in addition, and read words of one syllable. culture in its true meaning is widest possible education, _plus_ especial refinement and taste. the fact that slang is apt and forceful makes its use irresistibly tempting. coarse or profane slang is beside the mark, but "flivver," "taxi," the "movies," "deadly" (meaning dull), "feeling fit," "feeling blue," "grafter," a "fake," "grouch," "hunch" and "right o!" are typical of words that it would make our spoken language stilted to exclude. all colloquial expressions are little foxes that spoil the grapes of perfect diction, but they are very little foxes; it is the false elegance of stupid pretentiousness that is an annihilating blight which destroys root and vine. in the choice of words, we can hardly find a better guide than the lines of alexander pope: "in words, as fashions, the same rule will hold; alike fantastic, if too new, or old: be not the first by whom the new are tried, nor yet the last to lay the old aside." =pronunciation= traits of pronunciation which are typical of whole sections of the country, or accents inherited from european parents must not be confused with crude pronunciations that have their origin in illiteracy. a gentleman of irish blood may have a brogue as rich as plum cake, or another's accent be soft southern or flat new england, or rolling western; and to each of these the utterance of the others may sound too flat, too soft, too harsh, too refined, or drawled, or clipped short, but not uncultivated. to a new york ear, which ought to be fairly unbiased since the new york accent is a composite of all accents, english women chirrup and twitter. but the beautifully modulated, clear-clipped enunciation of a cultivated englishman, one who can move his jaws and not swallow his words whole, comes as near to perfection in english as the diction of the comédie française comes to perfection in french. the boston accent is very crisp and in places suggestive of the best english but the vowels are so curiously flattened that the speech has a saltless effect. there is no rhyming word as flat as the way they say "heart"--"haht." and "bone" and "coat"--"bawn," "cawt," to rhyme with awe! then south, there is too much salt--rather too much sugar. every one's mouth seems full of it, with "i" turned to "ah" and every staccato a drawl. but the voices are full of sweetness and music unknown north of the potomac. the pennsylvania burr is perhaps the mother of the western one. it is strong enough to have mothered all the r's in the wor-r-rld! philadelphia's "haow" and "caow" for "how" and "cow," and "me" for "my" is quite as bad as the "water-r" and "thot" of the west. n'yawk is supposed to say "yeh" and "omurica" and "toosdeh," and "puddin'." probably five per cent. of it does, but as a whole it has no accent, since it is a composite of all in one. in best new york society there is perhaps a generally accepted pronunciation which seems chiefly an elimination of the accents of other sections. probably that is what all people think of their own pronunciation. or do they not know, whether their inflection is right or wrong? nothing should be simpler to determine. if they pronounce according to a standard dictionary, they are correct; if they don't, they have an "accent" or are ignorant; it is for them to determine which. such differences as between saying wash or wawsh, ad_ver_tisement or adver_tise_ment are of small importance. but no one who makes the least pretence of being a person of education says: kep for kept, genelmun or gempmun or laydee, vawde-vil, or eye-talian. =how to cultivate an agreeable speech= first of all, remember that while affectation is odious, crudeness must be overcome. a low voice is always pleasing, not whispered or murmured, but low in pitch. do not talk at the top of your head, nor at the top of your lungs. do not slur whole sentences together; on the other hand, do not pronounce as though each syllable were a separate tongue and lip exercise. as a nation we do not talk so much too fast, as too loud. tens of thousands twang and slur and shout and burr! many of us drawl and many others of us race tongues and breath at full speed, but, as already said, the speed of our speech does not matter so much. pitch of voice matters very much and so does pronunciation--enunciation is not so essential--except to one who speaks in public. enunciation means the articulation of whatever you have to say distinctly and clearly. pronunciation is the proper sounding of consonants, vowels and the accentuation of each syllable. there is no better way to cultivate a perfect pronunciation; apart from association with cultivated people, than by getting a small pronouncing dictionary of words in ordinary use, and reading it word by word, marking and studying any that you use frequently and mispronounce. when you know them, then read any book at random slowly aloud to yourself, very carefully pronouncing each word. the consciousness of this exercise may make you stilted in conversation at first, but by and by the "sense" or "impulse" to speak correctly will come. this is a method that has been followed by many men handicapped in youth through lack of education, who have become prominent in public life, and by many women, who likewise handicapped by circumstances, have not only made possible a creditable position for themselves, but have then given their children the inestimable advantage of learning their mother tongue correctly at their mother's knee. chapter ix one's position in the community =the choice= first of all, it is necessary to decide what one's personal idea of position is, whether this word suggests merely a social one, comprising a large or an exclusive acquaintance and leadership in social gaiety, or position established upon the foundation of communal consequence, which may, or may not, include great social gaiety. in other words, you who are establishing yourself, either as a young husband or a stranger, would you, if you could have your wish granted by a genie, choose to have the populace look upon you askance and in awe, because of your wealth and elegance, or would you wish to be loved, not as a power conferring favors which belong really to the first picture, but as a fellow-being with an understanding heart? the granting of either wish is not a bit beyond the possibilities of anyone. it is merely a question of depositing securities of value in the bank of life. =the bank of life= life, whether social or business, is a bank in which you deposit certain funds of character, intellect and heart; or other funds of egotism, hard-heartedness and unconcern; or deposit--nothing! and the bank honors your deposit, and no more. in other words, you can draw nothing out but what you have put in. if your community is to give you admiration and honor, it is merely necessary to be admirable and honorable. the more you put in, the more will be paid out to you. it is too trite to put on paper! but it is astonishing, isn't it, how many people who are depositing nothing whatever, expect to be paid in admiration and respect? a man of really high position is always a great citizen first and above all. otherwise he is a hollow puppet whether he is a millionaire or has scarcely a dime to bless himself with. in the same way, a woman's social position that is built on sham, vanity, and selfishness, is like one of the buildings at an exposition; effective at first sight, but bound when slightly weather-beaten to show stucco and glue. it would be very presumptuous to attempt to tell any man how to acquire the highest position in his community, especially as the answer is written in his heart, his intellect, his altruistic sympathy, and his ardent civic pride. a subject, however, that is not so serious or over-aweing, and which can perhaps have directions written for it, is the lesser ambition of acquiring a social position. =taking or acquiring a social position= a bride whose family or family-in-law has social position has merely to take that which is hers by inheritance; but a stranger who comes to live in a new place, or one who has always lived in a community but unknown to society, have both to acquire a standing of their own. for example: =the bride of good family= the bride of good family need do nothing on her own initiative. after her marriage when she settles down in her own house or apartment, everyone who was asked to her wedding breakfast or reception, and even many who were only bidden to the church, call on her. she keeps their cards, enters them in a visiting or ordinary alphabetically indexed blank book, and within two weeks she returns each one of their calls. as it is etiquette for everyone when calling for the first time on a bride, to ask if she is in, the bride, in returning her first calls, should do likewise. as a matter of fact, a bride assumes the intimate visiting list of both her own and her husband's families, whether they call on her or not. by and by, if she gives a general tea or ball, she can invite whom, among them, she wants to. she should not, however, ask any mere acquaintances of her family to her house, until they have first invited her and her husband to theirs. but if she would like to invite intimate friends of her own or of her husband, or of her family, there is no valid reason why she should not do so. usually when a bride and groom return from their wedding trip, all their personal friends and those of their respective parents, give "parties" for them. and from being seen at one house, they are invited to another. if they go nowhere, they do not lose position but they are apt to be overlooked until people remember them by seeing them. but it is not at all necessary for young people to entertain in order to be asked out a great deal; they need merely be attractive and have engaging manners to be as popular as heart could wish. but they must make it a point to be considerate of everyone and never fail to take the trouble to go up with a smiling "how do you do" to every older lady who has been courteous enough to invite them to her house. that is not "toadying," it is being merely polite. to go up and gush is a very different matter, and to go up and gush over a prominent hostess who has never invited them to her house, is toadying and of a very cheap variety. a really well-bred person is as charming as possible to all, but effusive to none, and shows no difference in manner either, to the high or to the lowly when they are of equally formal acquaintance. =the bride who is a stranger= the bride who is a stranger, but whose husband is well known in the town to which he brings her, is in much the same position as the bride noted above, in that her husband's friends call on her; she returns their visits, and many of them invite her to their house. but it then devolves upon her to make herself liked, otherwise she will find herself in a community of many acquaintances but no friends. the best ingredients for likeableness are a happy expression of countenance, an unaffected manner, and a sympathetic attitude. if she is so fortunate as to possess these attributes her path will have roses enough. but a young woman with an affected pose and bad or conceited manners, will find plenty of thorns. equally unsuccessful is she with a chip-on-her-shoulder who, coming from new york for instance, to live in brightmeadows, insists upon dragging new york sky-scrapers into every comparison with brightmeadows' new six-storied building. she might better pack her trunks and go back where she came from. nor should the bride from brightmeadows who has married a new yorker, flaunt brightmeadows standards or customs, and tell mrs. worldly that she does not approve of a lady's smoking! maybe she doesn't and she may be quite right, and she should not under the circumstances smoke herself; but she should not make a display of intolerance, or she, too, had better take the first train back home, since she is likely to find new york very, very lonely. =how total strangers acquire social standing= when new people move into a community, bringing letters of introduction to prominent citizens, they arrive with an already made position, which ranks in direct proportion to the standing of those who wrote the introductions. since, however, no one but "persons of position" are eligible to letters of importance, there would be no question of acquiring position--which they have--but merely of adding to their acquaintance. as said in another chapter, people of position are people of position the world over, and all the cities strung around the whole globe are like so many chapter-houses of a brotherhood, to which letters of introduction open the doors. however, this is off the subject, which is to advise those who have no position, or letters, how to acquire the former. it is a long and slow road to travel, particularly long and slow for a man and his wife in a big city. in new york people could live in the same house for generations, and do, and not have their next door neighbor know them even by sight. but no other city, except london, is as unaware as that. when people move to a new city, or town, it is usually because of business. the husband at least makes business acquaintances, but the wife is left alone. the only thing for her to do is to join the church of her denomination, and become interested in some activity; not only as an opening wedge to acquaintanceships and possibly intimate friendships, but as an occupation and a respite from loneliness. her social position is gained usually at a snail's pace--nor should she do anything to hurry it. if she is a real person, if she has qualities of mind and heart, if she has charming manners, sooner or later a certain position will come, and in proportion to her eligibility. one of the ladies with whom she works in church, having gradually learned to like her, asks her to her house. nothing may ever come of this, but another one also inviting her, may bring an introduction to a third, who takes a fancy to her. this third lady also invites her where she meets an acquaintance she has already made on one of the two former occasions, and this acquaintance in turn invites her. by the time she has met the same people several times, they gradually, one by one, offer to go and see her, or ask her to come and see them. one inviolable rule she must not forget: it is fatal to be pushing or presuming. she must remain dignified always, natural and sympathetic when anyone approaches her, but she should not herself approach any one more than half way. a smile, the more friendly the better, is never out of place, but after smiling, she should pass on! never grin weakly, and--cling! if she is asked to go to see a lady, it is quite right to go. but not again, until the lady has returned the visit, or asked her to her house. and if admitted when making a first visit, she should remember not to stay more than twenty minutes at most, since it is always wiser to make others sorry to have her leave than run the risk of having the hostess wonder why her visitor doesn't know enough to go! =the entrance of an outsider= the outsider enters society by the same path, but it is steeper and longer because there is an outer gate of reputation called "they are not people of any position" which is difficult to unlatch. nor is it ever unlatched to those who sit at the gate rattling at the bars, or plaintively peering in. the better, and the only way if she has not the key of birth, is through study to make herself eligible. meanwhile, charitable, or civic work, will give her interest and occupation as well as throw her with ladies of good breeding, by association with whom she can not fail to acquire some of those qualities of manner before which the gates of society always open. =when position has been established= when her husband belongs to a club, or perhaps she does too, and the neighbors are friendly and those of social importance have called on her and asked her to their houses, a newcomer does not have to stand so exactly on the chalk line of ceremony as in returning her first visits and sending out her first invitations. after people have dined with each other several times, it is not at all important to consider whether an invitation is owed or paid several times over. she who is hospitably inclined can ask people half a dozen times to their once if she wants to, and they show their friendliness by coming. nor need visits be paid in alternate order. once she is really accepted by people she can be as friendly as she chooses. when mrs. oldname calls on mrs. stranger the first time, the latter may do nothing but call in return; it would be the height of presumption to invite one of conspicuous prominence until she has first been invited by her. nor may the strangers ask the oldnames to dine after being merely invited to a tea. but when mrs. oldname asks mrs. stranger to lunch, the latter might then invite the former to dinner, after which, if they accept, the strangers can continue to invite them on occasion, whether they are invited in turn or not; especially if the strangers are continually entertaining, and the oldnames are not. but on no account must the strangers' parties be arranged solely for the benefit of any particular fashionables. the strangers can also invite to a party any children whom their own children know at school, and mrs. stranger can quite properly go to fetch her own children from a party to which their schoolmates invited them. =money not essential to social position= bachelors, unless they are very well off, are not expected to give parties; nor for that matter are very young couples. all hostesses go on asking single men and young people to their houses without it ever occurring to them that any return other than politeness should be made. there are many couples, not necessarily in the youngest set either, who are tremendously popular in society in spite of the fact that they give no parties at all. the lovejoys, for instance, who are clamored for everywhere, have every attribute--except money. with fewer clothes perhaps than any fashionable young woman in new york, she can't compete with mrs. bobo gilding or constance style for "smartness" but, as mrs. worldly remarked: "what would be the use of celia lovejoy's beauty if it depended upon continual variation in clothes?" the only "entertaining" the lovejoys ever do is limited to afternoon tea and occasional welsh-rarebit suppers. but they return every bit of hospitality shown them by helping to make a party "go" wherever they are. both are amusing, both are interesting, both do everything well. they can't afford to play cards for money, but they both play a very good game and the table is delighted to "carry them," or they play at the same table against each other. this, by the way, is another illustration of the conduct of a gentleman; if young lovejoy played for money he would win undoubtedly in the long run because he plays unusually well, but to use card-playing as a "means of making money" would be contrary to the ethics of a gentleman, just as playing for more than can be afforded turns a game into "gambling." =an elusive point essential to social success= the sense of whom to invite with whom is one of the most important, and elusive, points in social knowledge. the possession or lack of it is responsible more than anything else for the social success of one woman, and the failure of another. and as it is almost impossible, without advice, for any stranger anywhere to know which people like or dislike each other, the would-be hostess must either by means of natural talent or more likely by trained attention, read the signs of liking or prejudice much as a woodsman reads a message in every broken twig or turned leaf. one who can read expression, perceives at a glance the difference between friendliness and polite aloofness. when a lady is unusually silent, strictly impersonal in conversation, and entirely unapproachable, something is not to her liking. the question is, what? or usually, whom? the greatest blunder possible would be to ask her what the matter is. the cause of annoyance is probably that she finds someone distasteful and it should not be hard for one whose faculties are not asleep to discover the offender and if possible separate them, or at least never ask them together again. chapter x cards and visits =usefulness of cards= who was it that said--in the victorian era probably, and a man of course--"the only mechanical tool ever needed by a woman is a hair-pin"? he might have added that with a hair-pin and a visiting card, she is ready to meet most emergencies. although the principal use of a visiting card, at least the one for which it was originally invented--to be left as an evidence of one person's presence at the house of another--is going gradually out of ardent favor in fashionable circles, its usefulness seems to keep a nicely adjusted balance. in new york, for instance, the visiting card has entirely taken the place of the written note of invitation to informal parties of every description. messages of condolence or congratulation are written on it; it is used as an endorsement in the giving of an order; it is even tacked on the outside of express boxes. the only employment of it which is not as flourishing as formerly is its being left in quantities and with frequency at the doors of acquaintances. this will be explained further on. =a card's size and engraving= the card of a lady is usually from about - / to - / inches wide, by to - / inches high, but there is no fixed rule. the card of a young girl is smaller and more nearly square in shape. (about inches high by - / or - / inches long, depending upon the length of the name.) young girls use smaller cards than older ladies. a gentleman's card is long and narrow, from - / to - / inches long, and from - / to - / inches high. all visiting cards are engraved on white unglazed bristol board, which may be of medium thickness or thin, as one fancies. a few years ago there was a fad for cards as thin as writing paper, but one seldom sees them in america now. the advantage of a thin card is that a greater quantity may be carried easily. the engraving most in use to-day is shaded block. script is seldom seen, but it is always good form and so is plain block, but with the exception of old english all ornate lettering should be avoided. all people who live in cities should have the address in the lower right corner, engraved in smaller letters than the name. in the country, addresses are not important, as every one knows where every one else lives. people who have town and country houses usually have separate cards, though not necessarily a separate plate. =economical engraving= the economically inclined can have several varieties of cards printed from one plate. the cards would vary somewhat in size in order to "center" the wording. example: the plate: mr. and mrs. gilding miss gilding fifth avenue golden hall may be printed. miss gilding's name should never appear on a card with both her mother's and father's, so her name being out of line under the "mr. and mrs." engraving makes no difference. or mr. and mrs. gilding golden hall or mrs. gilding miss gilding fifth avenue or mrs. gilding golden hall the personal card is in a measure an index of one's character. a fantastic or garish note in the type effect, in the quality or shape of the card, betrays a lack of taste in the owner of the card. it is not customary for a married man to have a club address on his card, and it would be serviceable only in giving a card of introduction to a business acquaintance, under social rather than business circumstances, or in paying a formal call upon a political or business associate. unmarried men often use no other address than that of a club; especially if they live in bachelor's quarters, but young men who live at home use their home address. =correct names and titles= to be impeccably correct, initials should not be engraved on a visiting card. a gentleman's card should read: mr. john hunter titherington smith, but since names are sometimes awkwardly long, and it is the american custom to cling to each and every one given in baptism, he asserts his possessions by representing each one with an initial, and engraves his cards mr. john h.t. smith, or mr. j.h. titherington smith, as suits his fancy. so, although, according to high authorities, he should drop a name or two and be mr. hunter smith, or mr. titherington smith, it is very likely that to the end of time the american man, and necessarily his wife, who must use the name as he does, will go on cherishing initials. and a widow no less than a married woman should always continue to use her husband's christian name, or his name and another initial, engraved on her cards. she is mrs. john hunter titherington smith, or, to compromise, mrs. j.h. titherington smith, but she is _never_ mrs. sarah smith; at least not anywhere in good society. in business and in legal matters a woman is necessarily addressed by her own christian name, because she uses it in her signature. but no one should ever address an envelope, except from a bank or a lawyer's office, "mrs. sarah smith." when a widow's son, who has the name of his father, marries, the widow has sr. added to her own name, or if she is the "head" of the family, she very often omits all christian names, and has her card engraved "mrs. smith," and the son's wife calls herself mrs. john hunter smith. smith is not a very good name as an example, since no one could very well claim the distinction of being _the_ mrs. smith. it, however, illustrates the point. for the daughter-in-law to continue to use a card with jr. on it when her husband no longer uses jr. on his, is a mistake made by many people. a wife always bears the name of her husband. to have a man and his mother use cards engraved respectively mr. j.h. smith and mrs. j.h. smith and the son's wife a card engraved mrs. j.h. smith, jr., would announce to whomever the three cards were left upon, that mr. and mrs. smith and _their_ daughter-in-law had called. the cards of a young girl after she is sixteen have always "miss" before her name, which must be her real and never a nick-name: miss sarah smith, not miss sally smith. the fact that a man's name has "jr." added at the end in no way takes the place of "mr." his card should be engraved mr. john hunter smith, jr., and his wife's mrs. john hunter smith, jr. some people have the "jr." written out, "junior." it is not spelled with a capital j if written in full. a boy puts mr. on his cards when he leaves school, though many use cards without mr. on them while in college. a doctor, or a judge, or a minister, or a military officer have their cards engraved with the abbreviation of their title: dr. henry gordon; judge horace rush; the rev. william goode; col. thomas doyle. the double card reads: dr. and mrs. henry gordon; hon. and mrs., etc. a woman who has divorced her husband retains the legal as well as the social right to use her husband's full name, in new york state at least. usually she prefers, if her name was alice green, to call herself mrs. green smith; not mrs. alice smith, and on no account mrs. alice green--unless she wishes to give the impression that she was the guilty one in the divorce. =children's cards= that very little children should have visiting cards is not so "silly" as might at first thought be supposed. to acquire perfect manners, and those graces of deportment that lord chesterfield so ardently tried to instil into his son, training can not begin early enough, since it is through lifelong familiarity with the niceties of etiquette that much of the distinction of those to the manner born is acquired. many mothers think it good training for children to have their own cards, which they are taught not so much to leave upon each other after "parties," as to send with gifts upon various occasions. at the rehearsal of a wedding, the tiny twin flower girls came carrying their wedding present for the bride between them, to which they had themselves attached their own small visiting cards. one card was bordered and engraved in pink, and the other bordered and engraved in blue, and the address on each read "_chez maman_." and in going to see a new baby cousin each brought a small bouquet, and sent to their aunt their cards, on which, after seeing the baby, one had printed "he is very little," and the other, "it has a red face." this shows that if modern society believes in beginning social training in the nursery, it does not believe in hampering a child's natural expression. =special cards and when to use them= the double card, reading mr. and mrs., is sent with a wedding present, or with flowers to a funeral, or with flowers to a débutante, and is also used in paying formal visits. the card on which a débutante's name is engraved under that of her mother, is used most frequently when no coming-out entertainment has been given for the daughter. her name on her mother's card announces, wherever it is left, that the daughter is "grown" and "eligible" for invitations. in the same way a mother may leave her son's card with her own upon any of her own friends--especially upon those likely to entertain for young people. this is the custom if a young man has been away at school and college for so long that he has not a large acquaintance of his own. it is, however, correct under any circumstances when formally leaving cards to leave those of all sons and daughters who are grown. =the p.p.c. card= this is merely a visiting card, whether of a lady or a gentleman, on which the initials p.p.c. (_pour prendre congé_--to take leave) are written in ink in the lower left corner. this is usually left at the door, or sent by mail to acquaintances, when one is leaving for the season, or for good. it never takes the place of a farewell visit when one has received especial courtesy, nor is it in any sense a message of thanks for especial kindness. in either of these instances, a visit should be paid or a note of farewell and thanks written. =cards of new or temporary address= in cities where there is no social register or other printed society list, one notifies acquaintances of a change of address by mailing a visiting card. cards are also sent, with a temporary address written in ink, when one is in a strange city and wishes to notify friends where one is stopping. it is also quite correct for a lady to mail her card with her temporary address written on it to any gentleman whom she would care to see, and who she is sure would like to see her. =when cards are sent= when not intending to go to a tea or a wedding reception (the invitation to which did not have r.s.v.p. on it and require an answer), one should mail cards to the hostess so as to arrive on the morning of the entertainment. to a tea given for a débutante cards are enclosed in one envelope and addressed: mrs. gilding miss gilding fifth avenue new york for a wedding reception, cards are sent to mr. and mrs. ----, the mother and father of the bride, and another set of cards sent to mr. and mrs. ----, the bride and bridegroom. =the visit of empty form= not so many years ago, a lady or gentleman, young girl or youth, who failed to pay her or his "party call" after having been invited to mrs. social-leader's ball was left out of her list when she gave her next one. for the old-fashioned hostess kept her visiting list with the precision of a bookkeeper in a bank; everyone's credit was entered or cancelled according to the presence of her or his cards in the card receiver. young people who liked to be asked to her house were apt to leave an extra one at the door, on occasion, so that theirs should not be among the missing when the new list for the season was made up--especially as the more important old ladies were very quick to strike a name off, but seldom if ever known to put one back. but about twenty years ago the era of informality set in and has been gaining ground ever since. in certain cities old-fashioned hostesses, it is said, exclude delinquents. but new york is too exotic and intractable, and the too exacting hostess is likely to find her tapestried rooms rather empty, while the younger world of fashion flocks to the crystal-fountained ballroom of the new spendeasy westerns. and then, too, life holds so many other diversions and interests for the very type of youth which of necessity is the vital essence of all social gaiety. society can have distinction and dignity without youth--but not gaiety. the country with its outdoor sports, its freedom from exacting conventions, has gradually deflected the interest of the younger fashionables, until at present they care very little whether mrs. toplofty and mrs. social-leader ask them to their balls or not. they are glad enough to go, of course, but they don't care enough for invitations to pay dull visits and to live up to the conventions of "manners" that old-fashioned hostesses demand. and as these "rebels" are invariably the most attractive and the most eligible youths, it has become almost an issue; a hostess must in many cases either invite none but older people and the few young girls and men whose mothers have left cards for them, or ignore convention and invite the rebels. in trying to find out where the present indifference started, many ascribe it to bobo gilding, to whom entering a great drawing-room was more suggestive of the daily afternoon tea ordeal of his early nursery days, than a voluntary act of pleasure. he was long ago one of the first to rebel against old mrs. toplofty's exactions of party calls, by saying he did not care in the least whether his great-aunt jane toplofty invited him to her stodgy old ball or not. and then lucy wellborn (the present mrs. bobo gilding) did not care much to go either if none of her particular men friends were to be there. little she cared to dance the cotillion with old colonel bluffington or to go to supper with that odious hector newman. and so, beginning first with a few gilded youths, then including young society, the habit has spread until the obligatory paying of visits by young girls and men has almost joined the once universal "day at home" as belonging to a past age. do not understand by this that visits are never paid on other occasions. visits to strangers, visits of condolence, and of other courtesies are still paid, quite as punctiliously as ever. but within the walls of society itself, the visit of formality is decreasing. one might almost say that in certain cities society has become a family affair. its walls are as high as ever, higher perhaps to outsiders, but among its own members, such customs as keeping visiting lists and having days at home, or even knowing who owes a visit to whom, is not only unobserved but is unheard of. but because punctilious card-leaving, visiting, and "days at home" have gone out of fashion in new york, is no reason why these really important observances should not be, or are not, in the height of fashion elsewhere. nor, on the other hand, must anyone suppose because the younger fashionables in new york pay few visits and never have days at home, that they are a bit less careful about the things which they happen to consider essential to good-breeding. the best type of young men pay few, if any, party calls, because they work and they exercise, and whatever time is left over, if any, is spent in their club or at the house of a young woman, not tête-a-tête, but invariably playing bridge. the sunday afternoon visits that the youth of another generation used always to pay, are unknown in this, because every man who can, spends the week-end in the country. it is scarcely an exaggeration to say that not alone men, but many young married women of highest social position, except to send with flowers or wedding presents, do not use a dozen visiting cards a year. but there are circumstances when even the most indifferent to social obligations must leave cards. =when cards must be left= etiquette absolutely demands that one leave a card within a few days after taking a first meal in a lady's house; or if one has for the first time been _invited_ to lunch or dine with strangers, it is inexcusably rude not to leave a card upon them, whether one accepted the invitation or not. one must also unfailingly return a first call, even if one does not care for the acquaintance. only a real "cause" can excuse the affront to an innocent stranger that the refusal to return a first call would imply. if one does not care to continue the acquaintance, one need not pay a second visit. also a card is always left with a first invitation. supposing miss philadelphia takes a letter of introduction to mrs. newport--mrs. newport, inviting miss philadelphia to her house, would not think of sending her invitation without also leaving her card. good form demands that a visit be paid before issuing a _first invitation_. sometimes a note of explanation is sent asking that the formality be waived, but it is _never_ disregarded, except in the case of an invitation from an older lady to a young girl. mrs. worldly, for instance, who has known jim smartlington always, might, instead of calling on mary smith, to whom his engagement is announced, write her a note, asking her to lunch or dinner. but in inviting mrs. greatlake of chicago she would leave her card with her invitation at mrs. greatlake's hotel. it seems scarcely necessary to add that anyone not entirely heartless must leave a card on, or send flowers to, an acquaintance who has suffered a recent bereavement. one should also leave cards of inquiry or send flowers to sick people. =invitation in place of returned visit= books on etiquette seem agreed that sending an invitation does not cancel the obligation of paying a visit--which may be technically correct--but fashionable people, who are in the habit of lunching or dining with each other two or three times a season, pay no attention to visits whatever. mrs. norman calls on mrs. gilding. mrs. gilding invites the normans to dinner. they go. a short time afterward mrs. norman invites the gildings--or the gildings very likely again invite the normans. some evening at all events, the gildings dine with the normans. someday, if mrs. gilding happens to be leaving cards, she may leave them at the normans--or she may not. some people leave cards almost like the "hares" in a paper chase; others seldom if ever do. except on the occasions mentioned in the paragraph before this, or unless there is an illness, a death, a birth, or a marriage, people in society invite each other to their houses and don't leave cards at all. nor do they ever consider whose "turn" it is to invite whom. ="not at home"= when a servant at a door says "not at home," this phrase means that the lady of the house is "not at home to visitors." this answer neither signifies nor implies--nor is it intended to--that mrs. jones is out of the house. some people say "not receiving," which means actually the same thing, but the "not at home" is infinitely more polite; since in the former you know she is in the house but won't see you, whereas in the latter case you have the pleasant uncertainty that it is quite possible she is out. to be told "mrs. jones is at home but doesn't want to see you," would certainly be unpleasant. and to "beg to be excused"--except in a case of illness or bereavement--has something very suggestive of a cold shoulder. but "not at home" means that she is not sitting in the drawing room behind her tea tray; that and nothing else. she may be out or she may be lying down or otherwise occupied. nor do people of the world find the slightest objection if a hostess, happening to recognize the visitor as a particular friend, calls out, "do come in! i _am_ at home to _you!_" anyone who talks about this phrase as being a "white lie" either doesn't understand the meaning of the words, or is going very far afield to look for untruth. to be consistent, these over-literals should also exact that when a guest inadvertently knocks over a tea cup and stains a sofa, the hostess instead of saying "it is nothing at all! please don't worry about it," ought for the sake of truth to say, "see what your clumsiness has done! you have ruined my sofa!" and when someone says "how are you?" instead of answering "very well, thank you," the same truthful one should perhaps take an hour by the clock and mention every symptom of indisposition that she can accurately subscribe to. while "not at home" is merely a phrase of politeness, to say "i am _out_" after a card has been brought to you is both an untruth and an inexcusable rudeness. or to have an inquiry answered, "i don't know, but i'll see," and then to have the servant, after taking a card, come back with the message "mrs. jones is out" can not fail to make the visitor feel rebuffed. once a card has been admitted, the visitor _must_ be admitted also, no matter how inconvenient receiving her may be. you may send a message that you are dressing but will be very glad to see her if she can wait ten minutes. the visitor can either wait or say she is pressed for time. but if she does not wait, then _she_ is rather discourteous. therefore, it is of the utmost importance always to leave directions at the door such as, "mrs. jones is not at home." "miss jones will be home at five o'clock," "mrs. jones will be home at . ," or mrs. jones "is at home" in the library to intimate friends, but "not at home" in the drawing-room to acquaintances. it is a nuisance to be obliged to remember either to turn an "in" and "out" card in the hail, or to ring a bell and say, "i am going out," and again, "i have come in." but whatever plan or arrangement you choose, no one at your front door should be left in doubt and then repulsed. it is not only bad manners, it is bad housekeeping. =the old-fashioned day at home= it is doubtful if the present generation of new yorkers knows what a day at home is! but their mothers, at least, remember the time when the fashionable districts were divided into regular sections, wherein on a given day in the week, the whole neighborhood was "at home." friday sounds familiar as the day for washington square! and was it monday for lower fifth avenue? at all events, each neighborhood on the day of its own, suggested a local fête. ladies in visiting dresses with trains and bonnets and nose-veils and tight gloves, holding card cases, tripped demurely into this house, out of that, and again into another; and there were always many broughams and victorias slowly "exercising" up and down, and very smart footmen standing with maroon or tan or fur rugs over their arms in front of mrs. wellborn's house or mrs. oldname's, or the big house of mrs. toplofty at the corner of fifth avenue. it must have been enchanting to be a grown person in those days! enchanting also were the c-spring victorias, as was life in general that was taken at a slow carriage pace and not at the motor speed of to-day. the "day at home" is still in fashion in washington, and it is ardently to be hoped that it also flourishes in many cities and towns throughout the country or that it will be revived, for it is a delightful custom--though more in keeping with europe than america, which does not care for gentle paces once it has tasted swift. a certain young new york hostess announced that she was going to stay home on saturday afternoons. but the men went to the country and the women to the opera, and she gave it up. there are a few old-fashioned ladies, living in old-fashioned houses, and still staying at home in the old-fashioned way to old-fashioned friends who for decades have dropped in for a cup of tea and a chat. and there are two maiden ladies in particular, joint chatelaines of an imposingly beautiful old house where, on a certain afternoon of the week, if you come in for tea, you are sure to meet not alone those prominent in the world of fashion, but a fair admixture of artists, scientists, authors; inventors, distinguished strangers--in a word best society in its truest sense. but days at home such as these are not easily duplicated; for few houses possess a "salon" atmosphere, and few hostesses achieve either the social talent or the wide cultivation necessary to attract and interest so varied and brilliant a company. =modern card leaving: a questionable act of politeness= the modern new york fashion in card-leaving is to dash as fast as possible from house to house, sending the chauffeur up the steps with cards, without ever asking if anyone is home. some butlers announce "not at home" from force of habit even when no question is asked. there are occasions when the visitors _must_ ask to see the hostess (see page ); but cards are left without asking whether a lady is at home under the following circumstances: cards are left on the mother of the bride, after a wedding, also on the mother of the groom. cards are also left after any formal invitation. having been asked to lunch or dine with a lady whom you know but slightly you should leave your card whether you accepted the invitation or not, within three days if possible, or at least within a week, of the date for which you were invited. it is not considered necessary (in new york at least) to ask if she is at home; promptness in leaving your card is, in this instance, better manners than delaying your "party call" and asking if she is at home. this matter of asking at the door is one that depends upon the customs of each state and city, but as it is always wiser to err on the side of politeness, it is the better policy, if in doubt, to ask "is mrs. blank at home?" rather than to run the risk of offending a lady who may like to see visitors. a card is usually left with a first invitation to a stranger who has brought a letter of introduction, but it is more polite--even though not necessary--to ask to be received. some ladies make it a habit to leave a card on everyone on their visiting list once a season. it is correct for the mother of a débutante to leave her card as well as her daughter's on every lady who has invited the daughter to her house, and a courteous hostess returns all of these pasteboard visits. but neither visit necessitates closer or even further acquaintance. =visits which everyone must pay= paying visits differs from leaving cards in that you must ask to be received. a visit of condolence should be paid at once to a friend when a death occurs in her immediate family. a lady does not call on a gentleman, but writes him a note of sympathy. in going to inquire for sick people, you should ask to be received, and it is always thoughtful to take them gifts of books or fruit or flowers. if a relative announces his engagement, you must at once go to see his fiancée. should she be out, you do not ask to see her mother. you do, however, leave a card upon both ladies and you ask to see her mother if received by the daughter. a visit of congratulation is also paid to a new mother and a gift invariably presented to the baby. =messages written on cards= "with sympathy" or "with deepest sympathy" is written on your visiting card with flowers sent to a funeral. this same message is written on a card and left at the door of a house of mourning, if you do not know the family well enough to ask to be received. "to inquire" is often written on a card left at the house of a sick person, but not if you are received. in going to see a friend who is visiting a lady whom you do not know, whether you should leave a card on the hostess as well as on your friend depends upon the circumstances: if the hostess is one who is socially prominent and you are unknown, it would be better taste not to leave a card on her, since your card afterward found without explanation might be interpreted as an uncalled-for visit made in an attempt for a place on her list. if, on the other hand, she is the unknown person and you are the prominent one, your card is polite, but unwise unless you mean to include her name on your list. but if she is one with whom you have many interests in common, then you may very properly leave a card for her. in leaving a card on a lady stopping at a hotel or living in an apartment house, you should write her name in pencil across the top of your card, to insure its being given to her, and not to some one else. at the house of a lady whom you know well and whom you are sorry not to find at home, it is "friendly" to write "sorry not to see you!" or "so sorry to miss you!" turning down a corner of a visiting card is by many intended to convey that the visit is meant for all the ladies in the family. other people mean merely to show that the card was left at the door in person and not sent in an envelope. other people turn them down from force of habit and mean nothing whatever. but whichever the reason, more cards are bent or dog-eared than are left flat. =engraved cards announcing engagement, bad form= someone somewhere asked whether or not to answer an engraved card announcing an engagement. the answer can have nothing to do with etiquette, since an engraved announcement is unknown to good society. (for the proper announcement of an engagement see page .) =when people see their friends= five o'clock is the informal hour when people are "at home" to friends. the correct hour for leaving cards and paying formal visits is between . and . . one should hesitate to pay a visit at the "tea hour" unless one is sure of one's welcome among the "intimates" likely to be found around the hostess's tea-table. many ladies make it their practise to be home if possible at five o'clock, and their friends who know them well come in at that time. (for the afternoon tea-table and its customs, see page .) =informal visiting often arranged by telephone= for instance, instead of ringing her door-bell, mrs. norman calls mrs. kindhart on the telephone: "i haven't seen you for weeks! won't you come in to tea, or to lunch--just you." mrs. kindhart answers, "yes, i'd love to. i can come this afternoon"; and five o'clock finds them together over the tea-table. in the same way young struthers calls up millicent gilding, "are you going to be in this afternoon?" she says, "yes, but not until a quarter of six." he says, "fine, i'll come then." or she says, "i'm so sorry, i'm playing bridge with pauline--but i'll be in to-morrow!" he says, "all right, i'll come to-morrow." the younger people rarely ever go to see each other without first telephoning. or since even young people seldom meet except for bridge, most likely it is millicent gilding who telephones the struthers youth to ask if he can't possibly get uptown before five o'clock to make a fourth with mary and jim and herself. =how a first visit is made= in very large cities, neighbors seldom call on each other. but if strangers move into a neighborhood in a small town or in the country, or at a watering-place, it is not only unfriendly but uncivil for their neighbors not to call on them. the older residents always call on the newer. and the person of greatest social prominence should make the first visit, or at least invite the younger or less prominent one to call on her; which the younger should promptly do. or two ladies of equal age or position may either one say, "i wish you would come to see me." to which the other replies "i will with pleasure." more usually the first one offers "i should like to come to see you, if i may." and the other, of course, answers "i shall be delighted if you will." the first one, having suggested going to see the second, is bound in politeness to do so, otherwise she implies that the acquaintance on second thought seems distasteful to her. everyone invited to a wedding should call upon the bride on her return from the honeymoon. and when a man marries a girl from a distant place, courtesy absolutely demands that his friends and neighbors call on her as soon as she arrives in her new home. =on opening the door to a visitor= on the hall table in every house, there should be a small silver, or other card tray, a pad and a pencil. the nicest kind of pad is one that when folded, makes its own envelope, so that a message when written need not be left open. there are all varieties and sizes at all stationers. when the door-bell rings, the servant on duty, who can easily see the chauffeur or lady approaching, should have the card tray ready to present, on the palm of the left hand. a servant at the door must never take the cards in his or her fingers. =correct number of cards to leave= when the visitor herself rings the door-bell and the message is "not at home," the butler or maid proffers the card tray on which the visitor lays a card of her own and her daughter's for each lady in the house and a card of her husband's and son's for each lady and gentleman. but three is the greatest number ever left of any one card. in calling on mrs. town, who has three grown daughters and her mother living in the house, and a mrs. stranger staying with her whom the visitor was invited to a luncheon to meet, a card on each would need a packet of six. instead, the visitor should leave three--one for mrs. town, one for all the other ladies of the house, and one for mrs. stranger. in asking to be received, her query at the door should be "are any of the ladies at home?" or in merely leaving her cards she should say "for all of the ladies." =when the caller leaves= the butler or maid must stand with the front door open until a visitor re-enters her motor, or if she is walking, until she has reached the sidewalk. it is bad manners ever to close the door in a visitor's face. when a chauffeur leaves cards, the door may be closed as soon as he turns away. =when the lady of the house is at home= when the door is opened by a waitress or a parlor-maid and the mistress of the house is in the drawing-room, the maid says "this way, please," and leads the way. she goes as quickly as possible to present the card tray. the guest, especially if a stranger, lags in order to give the hostess time to read the name on the card. the maid meanwhile moves aside, to make room for the approaching visitor, who goes forward to shake hands with the hostess. if a butler is at the door, he reads the card himself, picking it up from the tray, and opening the door of the drawing-room announces: "mrs. soandso," after which he puts the card on the hall table. the duration of a formal visit should be in the neighborhood of twenty minutes. but if other visitors are announced, the first one--on a very formal occasion--may cut her visit shorter. or if conversation becomes especially interesting, the visit may be prolonged five minutes or so. on no account must a visitor stay an hour! a hostess always rises when a visitor enters, unless the visitor is a very young woman or man and she herself elderly, or unless she is seated behind the tea-table so that rising is difficult. she should, however, always rise and go forward to meet a lady much older than herself; but she never rises from her tea-table to greet a man, unless he is quite old. if the lady of the house is "at home" but up-stairs, the servant at the door leads the visitor into the reception room, saying "will you take a seat, please?" and then carries the card to the mistress of the house. on an exceptional occasion, such as paying a visit of condolence or inquiring for a convalescent, when the question as to whether he will be received is necessarily doubtful, a gentleman does not take off his coat or gloves, but waits in the reception room with his hat in his hand. when the servant returning says either "will you come this way, please?" or "mrs. town is not well enough to see any one, but miss alice will be down in a moment," the visitor divests himself of his coat and gloves, which the servant carries, as well as his hat, out to the front hall. as said before, few men pay visits without first telephoning. but perhaps two or three times during a winter a young man, when he is able to get away from his office in time, will make a tea-time visit upon a hostess who has often invited him to dinner or to her opera box. under ordinary circumstances, however, some woman member of his family leaves his card for him after a dinner or a dance, or else it is not left at all. a gentleman paying visits, always asks if the hostess is at home. if she is, he leaves his hat and stick in the hall and also removes and leaves his gloves--and rubbers should he be wearing them. if the hour is between five and half-past, the hostess is inevitably at her tea-table, in the library, to which, if he is at all well known to the servant at the door, he is at once shown without being first asked to wait in the reception room. a gentleman entering a room in which there are several people who are strangers, shakes hands with his hostess and slightly bows to all the others, whether he knows them personally or not. he, of course, shakes hands with any who are friends, and with all men to whom he is introduced, but with a lady only if she offers him her hand. =how to enter a drawing-room= to know how to enter a drawing-room is supposed to be one of the supreme tests of good breeding. but there should be no more difficulty in entering the drawing-room of mrs. worldly than in entering the sitting-room at home. perhaps the best instruction would be like that in learning to swim. "take plenty of time, don't struggle and don't splash about!" good manners socially are not unlike swimming--not the "crawl" or "overhand," but smooth, tranquil swimming. (quite probably where the expression "in the swim" came from anyway!) before actually entering a room, it is easiest to pause long enough to see where the hostess is. never start forward and then try to find her as an afterthought. the place to pause is on the threshold--not half-way in the room. the way _not_ to enter a drawing-room is to dart forward and then stand awkwardly bewildered and looking about in every direction. a man of the world stops at the entrance of the room for a scarcely perceptible moment, until he perceives the most unencumbered approach to the hostess, and he thereupon walks over to her. when he greets his hostess he pauses slightly, the hostess smiles and offers her hand; the gentleman smiles and shakes hands, at the same time bowing. a lady shakes hands with the hostess and with every one she knows who is nearby. she bows to acquaintances at a distance and to strangers to whom she is introduced. =how to sit gracefully= having shaken hands with the hostess, the visitor, whether a lady or a gentleman, looks about quietly, without hurry, for a convenient chair to sit down upon, or drop into. to sit gracefully one should not perch stiffly on the edge of a straight chair, nor sprawl at length in an easy one. the perfect position is one that is easy, but dignified. in other days, no lady of dignity ever crossed her knees, held her hands on her hips, or twisted herself sideways, or even _leaned back in her chair!_ to-day all these things are done; and the only etiquette left is on the subject of how not to exaggerate them. no lady should cross her knees so that her skirts go up to or above them; neither should her foot be thrust out so that her toes are at knee level. an arm a-kimbo is _not_ a graceful attitude, nor is a twisted spine! everyone, of course, leans against a chair back, except in a box at the opera and in a ballroom, but a lady should never throw herself almost at full length in a reclining chair or on a wide sofa when she is out in public. neither does a gentleman in paying a formal visit sit on the middle of his backbone with one ankle supported on the other knee, and both as high as his head. the proper way for a lady to sit is in the center of her chair, or slightly sideways in the corner of a sofa. she may lean back, of course, and easily; her hands relaxed in her lap, her knees together, or if crossed, her foot must not be thrust forward so as to leave a space between the heel and her other ankle. on informal occasions she can lean back in an easy chair with her hands on the arms. in a ball dress a lady of distinction never leans back in a chair; one can not picture a beautiful and high-bred woman, wearing a tiara and other ballroom jewels, leaning against anything. this is, however, not so much a rule of etiquette as a question of beauty and fitness. a gentleman, also on very formal occasions, should sit in the center of his chair; but unless it is a deep lounging one, he always leans against the back and puts a hand or an elbow on its arms. =postscripts on visits= a lady never calls on another under the sponsorship of a gentleman--unless he is her husband or father. a young girl can very properly go with her fiancé to return visit paid to her by members or friends of his family; but she should not pay an initial visit unless to an invalid who has written her a note asking her to do so. if, when arriving at a lady's house, you find her motor at the door, you should leave your card as though she were not at home. if she happens to be in the hall, or coming down the steps, you say "i see you are going out, and i won't keep you!" if she insists on your coming in, you should stay only a moment. do not, however, fidget and talk about leaving. sit down as though your leaving immediately were not on your mind, but after two or three minutes say "good-by" and go. a young man may go to see a young girl as often as he feels inclined and she cares to receive him. if she continually asks to be excused, or shows him scant attention when he is talking to her, or in any other way indicates that he annoys or bores her, his visits should cease. it is very bad manners to invite one person to your house and leave out another with whom you are also talking. you should wait for an opportunity when the latter is not included in your conversation. in good society ladies do not kiss each other when they meet either at parties or in public. it is well to remember that nothing more blatantly stamps an ill-bred person than the habit of patting, nudging or taking hold of people. "keep your hands to yourself!" might almost be put at the head of the first chapter of every book on etiquette. be very chary of making any such remarks as "i am afraid i have stayed too long," or "i must apologize for hurrying off," or "i am afraid i have bored you to death talking so much." all such expressions are self-conscious and stupid. if you really think you are staying too long or leaving too soon or talking too much--don't! =an invalid's visit by proxy= it is not necessary that an invalid make any attempt to return the visits to her friends who are attentive enough to go often to see her. but if a stranger calls on her--particularly a stranger who may not know that she is always confined to the house, it is correct for a daughter or sister or even a friend to leave the invalid's card for her and even to pay a visit should she find a hostess "at home." in this event the visitor by proxy lays her own card as well as that of the invalid on the tray proffered her. upon being announced to the hostess, she naturally explains that she is appearing in place of her mother (or whatever relation the invalid is to her) and that the invalid herself is unable to make any visits. a lady never pays a party call on a gentleman. but if the gentleman who has given a dinner has his mother (or sister) staying with him and if the mother (or sister) chaperoned the party, cards should of course be left upon her. having risen to go, _go_! don't stand and keep your hostess standing while you say good-by, and make a last remark last half an hour! few americans are so punctilious as to pay their dinner calls within twenty-four hours; but it is the height of correctness and good manners. when a gentleman, whose wife is away, accepts some one's hospitality, it is correct for his wife to pay the party call with (or for) him, since it is taken for granted that she would have been included had she been at home. in other days a hostess thought it necessary to change quickly into a best dress if important company rang her door-bell. a lady of fashion to-day receives her visitors at once in whatever dress she happens to be wearing, since not to keep them waiting is the greater courtesy. chapter xi invitations, acceptances and regrets =the formal invitation= as an inheritance from the days when mrs. brown presented her compliments and begged that mrs. smith would do her the honor to take a dish of tea with her, we still--notwithstanding the present flagrant disregard of old-fashioned convention--send our formal invitations, acceptances and regrets, in the prescribed punctiliousness of the third person. all formal invitations, whether they are to be engraved or to be written by hand (and their acceptances and regrets) are invariably in the third person, and good usage permits of no deviation from this form. =wedding invitations= the invitation to the ceremony is engraved on the front sheet of white note-paper. the smartest, at present, is that with a raised margin--or plate mark. at the top of the sheet the crest (if the family of the bride has the right to use one) is embossed without color. otherwise the invitation bears no device. the engraving may be in script, block, shaded block, or old english. the invitation to the ceremony should always request "the honour" of your "presence," and never the "pleasure" of your "company." (honour is spelled in the old-fashioned way, with a "u" instead of "honor.") _enclosed in two envelopes_ two envelopes are never used except for wedding invitations or announcements; but wedding invitations and all accompaning cards are always enclosed first in an inner envelope that has no mucilage on the flap, and is superscribed "mr. and mrs. jameson greatlake," without address. this is enclosed in an outer envelope which is sealed and addressed: mr. and mrs. jameson greatlake, michigan avenue, chicago. to those who are only "asked to the church" no house invitation is enclosed. =the church invitation= the proper form for an invitation to a church ceremony is: (_form no. ._) mr. and mrs. john huntington smith request the honour of your presence at the marriage of their daughter mary katherine to mr. james smartlington on tuesday the first of november at twelve o'clock at st. john's church in the city of new york (_form no. ._) mr. and mrs. john huntington smith request the honour of [hw: miss pauline town's] presence at the marriage of their daughter mary katherine to mr. james smartlington on tuesday the first of november at twelve o'clock at st. john's church (_the size of invitations is - / wide by - / deep._) (_when the parents issue the invitations for a wedding at a house other than their own._) mr. and mrs. richard littlehouse request the honour of presence at the marriage of their daughter betty to mr. frederic robinson on saturday the fifth of november at four o'clock at the house of mr. and mrs. sterlington tuxedo park new york r.s.v.p. no variation is permissible in the form of a wedding invitation. whether fifty guests are to be invited or five thousand, the paper, the engraving and the wording, and the double envelope are precisely the same. _church card of admittance_ in cities or wherever the general public is not to be admitted, a card of about the size of a small visiting card is enclosed with the church invitation: please present this card, at st. john's church on tuesday the first of november _cards to reserved pews_ to the family and very intimate friends who are to be seated in especially designated pews: please present this to an usher pew no. on thursday the ninth of may engraved pew cards are ordered only for very big weddings where twenty or more pews are to be reserved. the more usual custom--at all small and many big weddings--is for the mother of the bride, and the mother of the bridegroom each to write on her personal visiting card: [hw: pew no. ] mrs. john huntington smith four west thirty-sixth street a card for the reserved enclosure but no especial pew is often inscribed "within the ribbons." =invitation to the house= the invitation to the breakfast or reception following the church ceremony is engraved on a card to match the paper of the church invitation and is the size of the latter after it is folded for the envelope: mr. and mrs. john huntington smith request the pleasure of [hw: mr. & mrs. james greatlake's] company on tuesday the first of november at half after four o'clock at four west thirty-sixth street r.s.v.p. =ceremony and reception invitation in one= occasionally, especially for a country wedding, the invitation to the breakfast or the reception is added to the one to the ceremony: mr. and mrs. alexander chatterton request the honour of [hw: mr. & mrs. worldly's] presence at the marriage of their daughter hester to mr. james town, junior on tuesday the first of june at three o'clock at st. john's church and afterwards at sunnylawn ridgefield r.s.v.p. or the invitation reads "at twelve o'clock, at st. john's church, and afterwards at breakfast at sunnylawn"; but "afterwards to the reception at sunnylawn" is wrong. =the invitation to a house wedding= is precisely the same except that "at sunnylawn" or "at four west thirty-sixth street" is put in place of "at st. john's church," and an invitation to stay on at a house, to which the guest is already invited, is not necessary. _the train card_ if the wedding is to be in the country, a train card is enclosed: a special train will leave grand central station at : p.m., arriving at ridgefield at : . returning, train will leave ridgefield at : p.m., arriving new york at . p.m. _show this card at the gate._ =invitation to reception and not to ceremony= it sometimes happens that the bride prefers none but her family at the ceremony, and a big reception. this plan is chosen where the mother of the bride or other very near relative is an invalid. the ceremony may take place at a bedside, or it may be that the invalid can go down to the drawing-room with only the immediate families, and is unequal to the presence of many people. under these circumstances the invitations to the breakfast or reception are sent on sheets of note paper like that used for church invitations, but the wording is: mr. and mrs. grantham jones request the pleasure of your company at the wedding breakfast of their daughter muriel and mr. burlingame ross, jr. on saturday the first of november at one o'clock at four east thirty-eighth street the favor of an answer is requested the "pleasure of your company" is requested in this case instead of the "honour of your presence." =the written wedding invitation= if a wedding is to be so small that no invitations are engraved, the notes of invitation should be personally written by the bride: sally dear: our wedding is to be on thursday the tenth at half-past twelve, christ church chantry. of course we want you and jack and the children! and we want all of you to come afterward to aunt mary's, for a bite to eat and to wish us luck. affectionately, helen. or dear mrs. kindhart: dick and i are to be married at christ church chantry at noon on thursday the tenth. we both want you and mr. kindhart to come to the church and afterward for a very small breakfast to my aunt's--mrs. slade--at two park avenue. with much love from us both, affectionately, helen. =wedding announcements= if no general invitations were issued to the church, an announcement engraved on note paper like that of the invitation to the ceremony, is sent to the entire visiting list of both the bride's and the groom's family: mr. and mrs. maynard barnes have the honour to announce the marriage of their daughter priscilla to mr. eben hoyt leaming on tuesday the twenty-sixth of april one thousand nine hundred and twenty-two in the city of new york =the second marriage= =invitations= invitations to the marriage of a widow--if she is very young--are sent in the name of her parents exactly as were the invitations to her first wedding, excepting that her name instead of being merely priscilla is now written priscilla barnes leaming, thus: mr. and mrs. maynard barnes request the honour of your presence at the marriage of their daughter priscilla barnes leaming to etc. =announcements= for a young widow's marriage are also the same as for a first wedding: mr. and mrs. maynard barnes have the honour to announce the marriage of their daughter priscilla barnes leaming to mr. worthington adams etc. but the announcement of the marriage of a widow of maturer years is engraved on note paper and reads: mrs. priscilla barnes leaming and mr. worthington adams have the honour to announce their marriage on monday the second of november at saratoga springs new york =cards of address= if the bride and groom wish to inform their friends of their future address (especially in cities not covered by the social register), it is customary to enclose a card with the announcement: mr. and mrs. worthington adams will be at home after the first of december at twenty-five alderney place or merely their visiting card with their new address in the lower right corner: mr. and mrs. worthington adams alderney place =invitation to wedding anniversary= for a wedding anniversary celebration, the year of the wedding and the present year are usually stamped across the top of an invitation. sometimes the couple's initials are added. - mr. and mrs. alvin johnson request the pleasure of [hw: mr. & mrs. illegible] company at the twenty-fifth anniversary of their marriage on wednesday the first of june at nine o'clock twenty-four austin avenue r.s.v.p. =answering a wedding invitation= an invitation to the church only requires no answer whatever. an invitation to the reception or breakfast is answered on the first page of a sheet of note paper, and although it is written "by hand" the spacing of the words must be followed as though they were engraved. this is the form of acceptance: mr. and mrs. robert gilding, jr., accept with pleasure mr. and mrs. john huntington smith's kind invitation for tuesday the first of june the regret reads: mr. and mrs. richard brown regret that they are unable to accept mr. and mrs. john huntington smith's kind invitation for tuesday the first of june =other formal invitations= all other formal invitations are engraved (never printed) on cards of thin white matte bristol board, either plain or plate-marked like those for wedding reception cards. note paper such as that used for wedding invitations is occasionally, but rarely, preferred. monograms, addresses, personal devices are not used on engraved invitations. the size of the card of invitation varies with personal preference from four and a half to six inches in width, and from three to four and a half inches in height. the most graceful proportion is three units in height to four in width. the lettering is a matter of personal choice, but the plainer the design, the better. scrolls and ornate trimmings are bad taste always. punctuation is used only after each letter of the r.s.v.p. and it is absolutely correct to use small letters for the s.v.p. capitals r.s.v.p. are permissible; but fastidious people prefer "r.s.v.p." =invitation to a ball= the word "ball" is never used excepting in an invitation to a public one, or at least a semi-public one, such as may be given by a committee for a charity or a club, or association of some sort. for example: the committee of the greenwood club request the pleasure of your company at a ball to be held in the greenwood clubhouse on the evening of november the seventh at ten o'clock. for the benefit of the neighborhood hospital tickets five dollars invitations to a private ball, no matter whether the ball is to be given in a private house, or whether the hostess has engaged an entire floor of the biggest hotel in the world, announce merely that mr. and mrs. somebody will be "at home," and the word "dancing" is added almost as though it were an afterthought in the lower left corner, the words "at home" being slightly larger than those of the rest of the invitation. when both "at" and "home" are written with a capital letter, this is the most punctilious and formal invitation that it is possible to send. it is engraved in script usually, on a card of white bristol board about five and a half inches wide and three and three-quarters of an inch high. like the wedding invitation it has an embossed crest without color, or nothing. the precise form is: mr. and mrs. titherington de payster at home on monday the third of january at ten o'clock one east fiftieth street the favour of an answer is requested dancing or mr. and mrs. davis jefferson at home on monday the third of january at ten o'clock town and country club kindly send reply to three mt. vernon square dancing (_if preferred, the above invitations may be engraved in block or shaded block type._) =ball for dÉbutante daughter= very occasionally an invitation is worded mr. and mrs. davis jefferson miss alice jefferson at home if the daughter is a débutante and the ball is for her, but it is not strictly correct to have any names but those of the host and his wife above the words "at home." the proper form of invitation when the ball is to be given for a débutante, is as follows: mr. and mrs. de puyster request the pleasure of [hw: miss rosalie gray's] company at a dance in honour of their daughter miss alice de puyster on monday evening, the third of january at ten o'clock one east fiftieth street r.s.v.p. or mr. and mrs. titherington de puyster miss alice de puyster request the pleasure of [hw: mr. and mrs. greatlake's] company on monday evening the third of january at ten o'clock one east fiftieth street dancing r.s.v.p. the form most often used by fashionable hostesses in new york and newport is: mr. and mrs. gilding request the pleasure of company at a small dance on monday the first of january at ought ought fifth avenue even if given for a débutante daughter, her name does not appear, and it is called a "small dance," whether it is really small or big. the request for a reply is often omitted, since everyone is supposed to know that an answer is necessary. but if the dance, or dinner, or whatever the entertainment is to be, is given at one address and the hostess lives at another, both addresses are always given: mr. and mrs. sidney oldname request the pleasure of company at a dance on monday evening the sixth of january at ten o'clock the fitz-cherry kindly send response to brookmeadows l.i. if the dance is given for a young friend who is not a relative, mr. and mrs. oldname's invitations should request the pleasure of company at a dance in honour of miss rosalie grey =when and how one may ask for an invitation for a stranger= one may never ask for an invitation for oneself anywhere! and one may not ask for an invitation to a luncheon or a dinner for a stranger. but an invitation for any general entertainment may be asked for a stranger--especially for a house-guest. example: dear mrs. worldly, a young cousin of mine, david blakely from chicago, is staying with us. may pauline take him to your dance on friday? if it will be inconvenient for you to include him, please do not hesitate to say so frankly. very sincerely yours, caroline robinson town. answer: dear mrs. town, i shall be delighted to have pauline bring mr. blakely on the tenth. sincerely yours, edith worldly. or a man might write for an invitation for a friend. but a very young girl should not ask for an invitation for a man--or anyone--since it is more fitting that her mother ask for her. an older girl might say to mrs. worldly, "my cousin is staying with us, may i bring him to your dance?" or if she knows mrs. worldly very well she might send a message by telephone: "miss town would like to know whether she may bring her cousin, mr. michigan, to mrs. worldly's dance." =card of general invitation= invitations to important entertainments are nearly always especially engraved, so that nothing is written except the name of the person invited; but, for the hostess who entertains constantly, a card which is engraved in blank, so that it may serve for dinner, luncheon, dance, garden party, musical, or whatever she may care to give, is indispensable. the spacing of the model shown below, the proportion of the words, and the size of the card, are especially good. mrs. stevens requests the pleasure of company at on at o'clock two elm place =the dinner invitation= the blank which may be used only for dinner: mr. and mrs. huntington jones request the pleasure of company at dinner on at eight o'clock at two thousand fifth avenue (_for type and spacing follow model on p. ._) =invitations to receptions and teas= invitations to receptions and teas differ from invitations to balls in that the cards on which they are engraved are usually somewhat smaller, the words "at home" with capital letters are changed to "will be at home" with small letters, and the time is not set at the hour. also, except on very unusual occasions, a man's name does not appear. the name of the débutante for whom the tea is given is put under that of her mother, and sometimes under that of her sister or the bride of her brother. mrs. james town mrs. james town, junior miss pauline town will be at home on tuesday the eighth of december from four until six o'clock two thousand fifth avenue. mr. town's name would probably appear with that of his wife if he were an artist, and the reception was given in his studio to view his pictures, or if a reception were given to meet a distinguished guest such as a bishop or a governor, in which case "in honour of the right reverend william powell," or "to meet his excellency the governor," is at the top of the invitation. =the formal invitation which is written= when the formal invitation to dinner or lunch is written instead of engraved, note paper stamped with house or personal device is used. the wording and spacing must follow the engraved models exactly. park avenue mr. and mrs. john kindhart request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. robert gilding jr.'s company at dinner on tuesday the sixth of december at eight o'clock. it must _not_ be written: park avenue telephone plaza mr. & mrs. j. kindhart request the pleasure of mr. & mrs. james town's company at dinner on tuesday etc. the foregoing example has four faults: ( ) letters in the third person must follow the prescribed form. this does not. ( ) the writing is crowded against the margin. ( ) the telephone number should be used only for business and informal notes and letters. ( ) the full name john should be used instead of the initial "j." "mr. and mrs." is better form than "mr. & mrs." =recalling an invitation= if for illness or other reason invitations have to be recalled the following forms are correct. they are always printed instead of engraved, there being no time for engraving. owing to sudden illness mr. and mrs. john huntington smith are obliged to recall their invitations for tuesday the tenth of june. the form used when the invitation is postponed: mr. and mrs. john huntington smith regret exceedingly that owing to the illness of mrs. smith their dance is temporarily postponed. when a wedding is broken off after the invitations have been issued: mr. and mrs. benjamin nottingham announce that the marriage of their daughter mary katharine and mr. jerrold atherton will not take place =formal acceptance or regret= acceptances or regrets are always written. an engraved form to be filled in is vulgar--nothing could be in worse taste than to flaunt your popularity by announcing that it is impossible to answer your numerous invitations without the time-saving device of a printed blank. if you have a dozen or more invitations a day, if you have a hundred, hire a staff of secretaries if need be, but answer "by hand." the formal acceptance to an invitation, whether it is to a dance, wedding breakfast or a ball, is identical: mr. and mrs. donald lovejoy accept with pleasure mr. and mrs. smith's kind invitation for dinner on monday the tenth of december at eight o'clock the formula for regret: mr. clubwin doe regrets extremely that a previous engagement prevents his accepting mr. and mrs. smith's kind invitation for dinner on monday the tenth of december or mr. and mrs. timothy kerry regret that they are unable to accept mr. and mrs. smith's kind invitation for dinner on monday the tenth of december in accepting an invitation the day and hour must be repeated, so that in case of mistake it may be rectified and prevent one from arriving on a day when one is not expected. but in declining an invitation it is not necessary to repeat the hour. =visiting card invitations= with the exception of invitations to house-parties, dinners and luncheons, the writing of notes is past. for an informal dance, musical, picnic, for a tea to meet a guest, or for bridge, a lady uses her ordinary visiting card: to meet miss millicent gilding =mrs. john kindhart= tues. jan. . dancing at . o'ck. park avenue or wed. jan. . bridge at . o'ck. =mrs. john kindhart= r.s.v.p. park avenue answers to invitations written on visiting cards are always formally worded in the third person, precisely as though the invitation had been engraved. =invitations in the second person= the informal dinner and luncheon invitation is not spaced according to set words on each line, but is written merely in two paragraphs. example: dear mrs. smith: will you and mr. smith dine with us on thursday, the seventh of january, at eight o'clock? hoping so much for the pleasure of seeing you, very sincerely, caroline robinson town. =the informal note of acceptance or regret= dear mrs. town: it will give us much pleasure to dine with you on thursday the seventh, at eight o'clock. thanking you for your kind thought of us, sincerely yours, margaret smith. wednesday. or dear mrs. town: my husband and i will dine with you on thursday the seventh, at eight o'clock, with greatest pleasure. thanking you so much for thinking of us, always sincerely, margaret smith. or dear mrs. town: we are so sorry that we shall be unable to dine with you on the seventh, as we have a previous engagement. with many thanks for your kindness in thinking of us, very sincerely, ethel norman. =invitation to country house= to an intimate friend: dear sally: will you and jack (and the baby and nurse, of course) come out the th (friday), and stay for ten days? morning and evening trains take only forty minutes, and it won't hurt jack to commute for the weekdays between the two sundays! i am sure the country will do you and the baby good, or at least it will do me good to have you here. with much love, affectionately, ethel norman. to a friend of one's daughter: dear mary: will you and jim come on friday the first for the worldly dance, and stay over sunday? muriel asks me to tell you that helen and dick, and also jimmy smith are to be here and she particularly hopes that you will come, too. the three-twenty from new york is the best train--much. though there is a four-twenty and a five-sixteen, in case jim is not able to take the earlier one. very sincerely, alice jones. confirming a verbal invitation: dear helen: this note is merely to remind you that you and dick are coming here for the worldly dance on the sixth. mother is expecting you on the three-twenty train, and will meet you here at the station. affectionately, muriel. invitation to a house party at a camp: dear miss strange: will you come up here on the sixth of september and stay until the sixteenth? it would give us all the greatest pleasure. there is a train leaving broadway station at . a.m. which will get you to dustville junction at p.m. and here in time for supper. it is only fair to warn you that the camp is very primitive; we have no luxuries, but we can make you fairly comfortable if you like an outdoor life and are not too exacting. please do not bring a maid or any clothes that the woods or weather can ruin. you will need nothing but outdoor things: walking boots (if you care to walk), a bathing suit (if you care to swim in the lake), and something comfortable rather than smart for evening (if you care to dress for supper). but on no account bring evening, or any _good_ clothes! hoping so much that camping appeals to you and that we shall see you on the evening of the sixth, very sincerely yours, martha kindhart. =the invitation by telephone= custom which has altered many ways and manners has taken away all opprobrium from the message by telephone, and with the exception of those of a very small minority of letter-loving hostesses, all informal invitations are sent and answered by telephone. such messages, however, follow a prescribed form: "is this lenox ? will you please ask mr. and mrs. smith if they will dine with mrs. grantham jones next tuesday the tenth at eight o'clock? mrs. jones' telephone number is plaza, one two ring two." the answer: "mr. and mrs. huntington smith regret that they will be unable to dine with mrs. jones on tuesday the tenth, as they are engaged for that evening. or "will you please tell mrs. jones that mr. and mrs. huntington smith are very sorry that they will be unable to dine with her next tuesday, and thank her for asking them." or "please tell mrs. jones that mr. and mrs. huntington smith will dine with her on tuesday the tenth, with pleasure." the formula is the same, whether the invitation is to dine or lunch, or play bridge or tennis, or golf, or motor, or go on a picnic. "will mrs. smith play bridge with mrs. grantham jones this afternoon at the country club, at four o'clock?" "hold the wire please * * * mrs. jones will play bridge, with pleasure at four o'clock." in many houses, especially where there are several grown sons or daughters, a blank form is kept in the pantry: will with m on the at o'clock. telephone number accept regret these slips are taken to whichever member of the family has been invited, who crosses off "regret" or "accept" and hands the slip back for transmission by the butler, the parlor-maid or whoever is on duty in the pantry. if mr. smith and mrs. jones are themselves telephoning there is no long conversation, but merely: mrs. jones: "is that you mrs. smith (or sarah)? this is mrs. jones (or alice). will you and your husband (or john) dine with us to-morrow at eight o'clock?" mrs. smith: "i'm so sorry we can't. we are dining with mabel." or "we have people coming here." invitations to a house party are often as not telephoned: "hello, ethel? this is alice. will you and arthur come on the sixteenth for over sunday?" "the sixteenth? that's friday. we'd love to!" "will you take the : train? etc." [illustration: "a gem of a house may be no size at all, but its lines are honest, and its painting and window curtains in good taste ... and its bell is answered promptly by a trim maid with a low voice and quiet, courteous manner." [page .]] chapter xii the well-appointed house every house has an outward appearance to be made as presentable as possible, an interior continually to be set in order, and incessantly to be cleaned. and for those that dwell within it there are meals to be prepared and served; linen to be laundered and mended; personal garments to be brushed and pressed; and perhaps children to be cared for. there is also a door-bell to be answered in which manners as well as appearance come into play. beyond these fundamental necessities, luxuries can be added indefinitely, such as splendor of architecture, of gardening, and of furnishing, with every refinement of service that executive ability can produce. with all this genuine splendor possible only to the greatest establishments, a little house can no more compete than a diamond weighing but half a carat can compete with a stone weighing fifty times as much. and this is a good simile, because the perfect little house may be represented by a corner cut from precisely the same stone and differing therefore merely in size (and value naturally), whereas the house in bad taste and improperly run may be represented by a diamond that is off color and full of flaws; or in some instances, merely a piece of glass that to none but those as ignorant as its owner, for a moment suggests a gem of value. a gem of a house may be no size at all, but its lines are honest, and its painting and window curtains in good taste. as for its upkeep, its path or sidewalk is beautifully neat, steps scrubbed, brasses polished, and its bell answered promptly by a trim maid with a low voice and quiet courteous manner; all of which contributes to the impression of "quality" evens though it in nothing suggests the luxury of a palace whose opened bronze door reveals a row of powdered footmen. but the "mansion" of bastard architecture and crude paint, with its brass indifferently clean, with coarse lace behind the plate glass of its golden-oak door, and the bell answered at eleven in the morning by a butler in an ill fitting dress suit and wearing a mustache, might as well be placarded: "here lives a vulgarian who has never had an opportunity to acquire cultivation." as a matter of fact, the knowledge of how to make a house distinguished both in appearance and in service, is a much higher test than presenting a distinguished appearance in oneself and acquiring presentable manners. there are any number of people who dress well, and in every way appear well, but a lack of breeding is apparent as soon as you go into their houses. their servants have not good manners, they are not properly turned out, the service is not well done, and the decorations and furnishings show lack of taste and inviting arrangement. the personality of a house is indefinable, but there never lived a lady of great cultivation and charm whose home, whether a palace, a farm-cottage or a tiny apartment, did not reflect the charm of its owner. every visitor feels impelled to linger, and is loath to go. houses without personality are a series of rooms with furniture in them. sometimes their lack of charm is baffling; every article is "correct" and beautiful, but one has the feeling that the decorator made chalk-marks indicating the exact spot on which each piece of furniture is to stand. other houses are filled with things of little intrinsic value, often with much that is shabby, or they are perhaps empty to the point of bareness, and yet they have that "inviting" atmosphere, and air of unmistakable quality which is an unfailing indication of high-bred people. ="becoming" furniture= suitability is the test of good taste always. the manner to the moment, the dress to the occasion, the article to the place, the furniture to the background. and yet to combine many periods in one and commit no anachronism, to put something french, something spanish, something italian, and something english into an american house and have the result the perfection of american taste--is a feat of legerdemain that has been accomplished time and again. [illustration: "the personality of a house is indefinable, but there never lived a lady of great cultivation and charm whose home, whether a palace, a farm-cottage or a tiny apartment, did not reflect the charm of its owner." [page .]] a woman of great taste follows fashion in house furnishing, just as she follows fashion in dress, in general principles only. she wears what is becoming to her own type, and she puts in her house only such articles as are becoming to it. that a quaint old-fashioned house should be filled with quaint old-fashioned pieces of furniture, in size proportionate to the size of the rooms, and that rush-bottomed chairs and rag-carpets have no place in a marble hall, need not be pointed out. but to an amazing number of persons, proportion seems to mean nothing at all. they will put a huge piece of furniture in a tiny room so that the effect is one of painful indigestion; or they will crowd things all into one corner--so that it seems about to capsize; or they will spoil a really good room by the addition of senseless and inappropriately cluttering objects, in the belief that because they are valuable they must be beautiful, regardless of suitability. sometimes a room is marred by "treasures" clung to for reasons of sentiment. =the blindness of sentiment= it is almost impossible for any of us to judge accurately of things which we have throughout a lifetime been accustomed to. a chair that was grandmother's, a painting father bought, the silver that has always been on the dining table--are all so part of ourselves that we are sentiment-blind to their defects. for instance, the portrait of a colonial officer, among others, has always hung in mrs. oldname's dining-room. one day an art critic, whose knowledge was better than his manners, blurted out, "will you please tell me why you have that dreadful thing in this otherwise perfect room?" mrs. oldname, somewhat taken back, answered rather wonderingly: "is it dreadful?--really? i have a feeling of affection for him and his dog!" the critic was merciless. "if you call a cotton-flannel effigy, a dog! and as for the figure, it is equally false and lifeless! it is amazing how any one with your taste can bear looking at it!" in spite of his rudeness, mrs. oldname saw that what he said was quite true, but not until the fact had been pointed out to her. gradually she grew to dislike the poor officer so much that he was finally relegated to the attic. in the same way most of us have belongings that have "always been there" or perhaps "treasures" that we love for some association, which are probably as bad as can be, to which habit has blinded us, though we would not have to be told of their hideousness were they seen by us in the house of another. it is not to be expected that all people can throw away every esthetically unpleasing possession, with which nearly every house twenty-five years ago was filled, but those whose pocket-book and sentiment will permit, would add greatly to the beauty of their houses by sweeping the bad into the ash can! far better have stone-ware plates that are good in design than expensive porcelain that is horrible in decoration. the only way to determine what is good and what is horrible is to study what is good in books, in museums, or in art classes in the universities, or even by studying the magazines devoted to decorative art. be very careful though. do not mistake modern eccentricities for "art." there are frightful things in vogue to-day--flamboyant colors, grotesque, triangular and oblique designs that can not possibly be other than bad, because aside from striking novelty, there is nothing good about them. by no standard can a room be in good taste that looks like a perfume manufacturer's phantasy or a design reflected in one of the distorting mirrors that are mirth-provokers at county fairs. =to determine an object's worth= in buying an article for a house one might formulate for oneself a few test questions: first, is it useful? anything that is really useful has a reason for existence. second, has it _really_ beauty of form and line and color? (texture is not so important.) or is it merely striking, or amusing? third, is it entirely suitable for the position it occupies? fourth, if it were eliminated would it be missed? would something else look as well or better, in its place? or would its place look as well empty? a truthful answer to these questions would at least help in determining its value, since an article that failed in any of them could not be "perfect." fashion affects taste--it is bound to. we abominate louis the fourteenth and empire styles at the moment, because curves and super-ornamentation are out of fashion; whether they are really bad or not, time alone can tell. at present we are admiring plain silver and are perhaps exacting that it be too plain? the only safe measure of what is good, is to choose that which has best endured. the "king" and the "fiddle" pattern for flat silver, have both been in use in houses of highest fashion ever since they were designed, so that they, among others, must have merit to have so long endured. in the same way examples of old potteries and china and glass, at present being reproduced, are very likely good, because after having been for a century or more in disuse, they are again being chosen. perhaps one might say that the "second choice" is "proof of excellence." =service= the subject of furnishings is however the least part of this chapter--appointments meaning decoration being of less importance (since this is not a book on architecture or decoration!), than appointments meaning _service_. but before going into the various details of service, it might be a good moment to speak of the unreasoning indignity cast upon the honorable vocation of a servant. there is an inexplicable tendency, in this country only, for working people in general to look upon domestic service as an unworthy, if not altogether degrading vocation. the cause may perhaps be found in the fact that this same scorning public having for the most part little opportunity to know high-class servants, who are to be found only in high-class families, take it for granted that ignorant "servant girls" and "hired men" are representative of their kind. therefore they put upper class servants in the same category--regardless of whether they are uncouth and illiterate, or persons of refined appearance and manner who often have considerable cultivation, acquired not so much at school as through the constant contact with ultra refinement of surroundings, and not infrequently through the opportunity for world-wide travel. and yet so insistently has this obloquy of the word "servant" spread that every one sensitive to the feelings of others avoids using it exactly as one avoids using the word "cripple" when speaking to one who is slightly lame. yet are not the best of us "servants" in the church? and the highest of us "servants" of the people and the state? to be a slattern in a vulgar household is scarcely an elevated employment, but neither is working in a sweat-shop, or belonging to a calling that is really degraded; which is otherwise about all that equal lack of ability would procure. on the other hand, consider the vocation of a lady's maid or "_courier_" valet and compare the advantages these enjoy (to say nothing of their never having to worry about overhead expenses), with the opportunities of those who have never been out of the "factory" or the "store" or further away than the adjoining town in their lives. as for a nurse, is there any vocation more honorable? no character in e.f. benson's "our family affairs" is more beautiful or more tenderly drawn than that of "beth," who was not only nurse to the children of the archbishop of canterbury but one of the most dearly beloved of the family's members--her place was absolutely next to their mother's in the very heart of the household always. two years ago, anna, who had for a lifetime been mrs. gilding's personal maid, died. every engagement of that seemingly frivolous family was cancelled, even the invitations for their ball. not one of the family but mourned for what she truly was, their humble but nearest friend. would it have been so much better, so much more dignified, for these two women, who lived long useful years in closest association with every cultivating influence of life, to have lived on in their native villages and worked in a factory, or to have had a little store of their own? does this false idea of dignity--since it _is_ false--go so far as that? =how many servants for correct service?= it stands to reason that one may expect more perfect service from a "specialist" than from one whose functions are multiple. but small houses that have a double equipment--meaning an alternate who can go in the kitchen, and two for the dining-room--can be every bit as well run, so far as essentials go, as the palaces of the gildings and the worldlys, though of course not with the same impressiveness. but good service is badly handicapped if, when the waitress goes out, there is no one to open the door, or when the cook goes out, there is no one to prepare a meal. for what one might call "complete" service, (meaning service that is adequate for constant entertaining and can stand comparison with the most luxurious establishments,) three are the minimum--a cook, a butler (or waitress) and a housemaid. the reason why luncheons and dinners can not be "perfectly" given with a waitress alone is because two persons are necessary for the exactions of modern standards of service. yet one alone can, on occasion, manage very well, if attention is paid to ordering an especial menu for single-handed service--described on page . aside from the convenience of a second person in the dining-room, a house can not be run very comfortably and smoothly without alternating shifts in staying in and going out. the waitress being on "duty" to answer bell and telephone and serve tea one afternoon, and the housemaid taking her place the next. they also alternate in going out every other evening after dinner. it should be realized that above the number necessary for essentials, each additional chambermaid, parlor-maid, footman, scullery maid or useful man, is made necessary by the size of the house and by the amount of entertaining usual, rather than (as is often supposed) for the mere reason of show. the seemingly superfluous number of footmen at golden hall and great estates are, aside from standing on parade at formal parties, needed actually to do the immense amount of work that houses of such size entail; whereas a small apartment can be fairly well looked after by one alone. all house employees and details of their several duties, manners, and appearances, are enumerated below. beginning with the greatest and most complicated establishments possible, the employee of highest rank is: =the secretary who is also companion= the position of companion, which is always one of social equality with her employer, exists only when the lady of the house is an invalid, or very elderly, or a widow, or a young girl. (in the latter case the "companion" is a "chaperon.") her secretarial duties consist in writing impersonal letters and notes and probably paying bills; she may have occasional invitations to send out, and to answer, though a lady needing a companion is not apt to be greatly interested in social activities. the companion never performs the services of a maid--but she occasionally does the housekeeping. otherwise her duties can not very well be set down, because they vary with individual requirements. one lady likes continually to travel and merely wants a companion, (usually a poor relative or friend) to go with her. another who is a semi-invalid never leaves her room, and the duties of her companion are almost those of a trained nurse. the average requirement is in being personally agreeable, tactful, intelligent, and--companionable! a companion dresses as any other lady does; according to the occasion, her personal taste, her age, and her means. =varied social standing of the private secretary= the private secretary to a diplomat, since, he must first pass the diplomatic examination in order to qualify, is invariably a young man of education, if not of birth, and his social position is always that of a member of his "chief's" family. the position of an ordinary private secretary is sometimes that of an upper servant, or, on the other hand, his own social position may be much higher than that of his employer. a secretary who either has position of his own or is given position by his employer, is in every way treated as a member of the family; he is present at all general entertainments; and quite as often as not at lunches and dinners. the duties of a private secretary are naturally to attend to all correspondence, take shorthand notes of speeches or conversations, file papers and documents and in every way serve as extra eyes and hands and supplementary brain for his employer. =the social secretary= the position of social secretary is an entirely clerical one, and never confers any "social privileges" unless the secretary is also "companion." her duties are to write all invitations, acceptances, and regrets; keep a record of every invitation received and every one sent out, and to enter in an engagement book every engagement made for her employer, whether to lunch, dinner, to be fitted, or go to the dentist. she also writes all impersonal notes, takes longer letters in shorthand, and writes others herself after being told their purport. she also audits all bills and draws the checks for them, the checks are filled in and then presented to her employer to be signed, after which they are put in their envelopes, sealed and sent. when the receipted bills are returned, the secretary files them according to her own method, where they can at any time be found by her if needed for reference. in many cases it is she (though it is most often the butler) who telephones invitations and other messages. occasionally a social secretary is also a social manager; devises entertainments and arranges all details such as the decorations of the house for a dance, or a programme of entertainment following a very large dinner. the social secretary very rarely lives in the house of her employer; more often than not she goes also to one or two other houses--since there is seldom work enough in one to require her whole time. miss brisk, who is mrs. gilding's secretary, has little time for any one else. she goes every day for from two to sometimes eight or nine hours in town, and at golden hall lives in the house. usually a secretary can finish all there is to do in an average establishment in about an hour, or at most two, a day, with the addition of five or six hours on two or three other days each month for the paying of bills. supposing she takes three positions; she goes to mrs. a. from . to every day, and for three extra hours on the th and th of every month. to mrs. b. from . to (her needs being greater) and for six extra hours on the th, th and th of every month. and to mrs. c. every day at o'clock for an indefinite time of several hours or only a few minutes. her dress is that of any business woman. conspicuous clothes are out of keeping as they would be out of keeping in an office; which, however, is no reason why she should not be well dressed. well-cut tailor-made suits are the most appropriate with a good-looking but simple hat; as good shoes as she can possibly afford, and good gloves and immaculately clean shirt waists, represent about the most dignified and practical clothes. but why describe clothes! every woman with good sense enough to qualify as a secretary has undoubtedly sense enough to dress with dignity. =the housekeeper= in a very big house the housekeeper usually lives in the house. smaller establishments often have a "visiting housekeeper" who comes for as long as she is needed each morning. the resident housekeeper has her own bedroom and bath and sitting-room always. her meals are brought to her by an especial kitchen-maid, called in big houses the "hall girl," or occasionally the butler details an under footman to that duty. in an occasional house all the servants, the gardener as well as the cook and butler and nurses, come under the housekeeper's authority; in other words, she superintends the entire house exactly as a very conscientious and skilled mistress would do herself, if she gave her whole time and attention to it. she engages the servants, and if necessary, dismisses them; she sees the cook, orders meals, goes to the market, or at least supervises the cook's market orders, and likewise engages and apportions the work of the men servants. ordinarily, however, she is in charge of no one but the housemaids, parlor-maids, useful man and one of the scullery maids. the cook, butler, nurses and lady's maid do not come under her supervision. but should difficulties arise between herself and them it would be within her province to ask for their dismissal which would probably be granted; since she would not ask without grave cause that involved much more than her personal dislike. a good housekeeper is always a woman of experience and tact, and often a lady; friction is, therefore, extremely rare. =the organization of a great house= the management of a house of greatest size, is divided usually into several distinct departments, each under its separate head. the housekeeper has charge of the appearance of the house and of its contents; the manners and looks of the housemaids and parlor-maids, as well as their work in cleaning walls, floors, furniture, pictures, ornaments, books, and taking care of linen. the butler has charge of the pantry and dining-room. he engages all footmen, apportions their work and is responsible for their appearance, manners and efficiency. the cook is in charge of the kitchen, under-cook and kitchen-maids. the nurse and the personal maid and cook are under the direction of the lady of the house. the butler and the valet as well as the chauffeur and gardener are engaged by the gentleman of the house. =the butler= the butler is not only the most important servant in every big establishment, but it is by no means unheard of for him to be in supreme command, not only as steward, but as housekeeper as well. at the worldly's for instance, hastings who is actually the butler, orders all the supplies, keeps the household accounts and engages not only the men servants but the housemaids, parlor-maids and even the chef. but normally in a great house, the butler has charge of his own department only, and his own department is the dining-room and pantry, or possibly the whole parlor floor. in all smaller establishments the butler is always the valet--and in many great ones he is valet to his employer, even though he details a footman to look after other gentlemen of the family or visitors. in a small house the butler works a great deal with his hands and not so much with his head. in a great establishment, the butler works very much with his head, and with his hands not at all. at golden hall where guests come in dozens at a time (both in the house and the guest annex), his stewardship--even though there is a housekeeper--is not a job which a small man can fill. he has perhaps thirty men under him at big dinners, ten who belong under him in the house always; he has the keys to the wine cellar and the combination of the silver safe. (the former being in this day by far the greater responsibility!) he also chooses the china and glass and linen as well as the silver to be used each day, oversees the setting of the table, and the serving of all food. when there is a house party every breakfast tray that leaves the pantry is first approved by him. at all meals he stands behind the chair of the lady of the house--in other words, at the head of the table. in occasional houses, the butler stands at the opposite end as he is supposed to be better able to see any directions given him. at golden hall the butler stands behind mr. gilding but at great estates hastings invariably stands behind mrs. worldly's chair so that at the slightest turn of her head, he need only take a step to be within reach of her voice. (the husband by the way is "head of the house," but the wife is "head of the table.") at tea time, he oversees the footmen who place the tea-table, put on the tea cloth and carry in the tea tray, after which hastings himself places the individual tables. when there is "no dinner at home" he waits in the hall and assists mr. worldly into his coat, and hands him his hat and stick, which have previously been handed to the butler by one of the footmen. _the butler in a smaller house_ in a smaller house, the butler also takes charge of the wines and silver, does very much the same as the butler in the bigger house, except that he has less overseeing of others and more work to do himself. where he is alone, he does all the work--naturally. where he has either one footman or a parlor-maid, he passes the main courses at the table and his assistant passes the secondary dishes. he is also valet not only for the gentleman of the house but for any gentleman guests as well. _what the butler wears_ the butler never wears the livery of a footman and on no account knee breeches or powder. in the early morning he wears an ordinary sack suit--black or very dark blue--with a dark, inconspicuous tie. for luncheon or earlier, if he is on duty at the door, he wears black trousers, with gray stripes, a double-breasted, high-cut, black waistcoat, and black swallowtail coat without satin on the revers, a white stiff-bosomed shirt with standing collar, and a black four-in-hand tie. in fashionable houses, the butler does not put on his dress suit until six o'clock. the butler's evening dress differs from that of a gentleman in a few details only: he has no braid on his trousers, and the satin on his lapels (if any) is narrower, but the most distinctive difference is that a butler wears a black waistcoat and a white lawn tie, and a gentleman always wears a white waistcoat with a white tie, or a white waistcoat and a black tie with a dinner coat, but never the reverse. unless he is an old-time colored servant in the south a butler who wears a "dress suit" in the daytime is either a hired waiter who has come in to serve a meal, or he has never been employed by persons of position; and it is unnecessary to add that none but vulgarians would employ a butler (or any other house servant) who wears a mustache! to have him open the door collarless and in shirt-sleeves is scarcely worse! a butler never wears gloves, nor a flower in his buttonhole. he sometimes wears a very thin watch chain in the daytime but none at night. he never wears a scarf-pin, or any jewelry that is for ornament alone. his cuff-links should be as plain as possible, and his shirt studs white enamel ones that look like linen. =the house footmen= all house servants who assist in waiting on the table come under the direction of the butler, and are known as footmen. one who never comes into the dining-room is known as a useful man. the duties of the footmen (and useful man) include cleaning the dining-room, pantry, lower hall, entrance vestibule, sidewalk, attending to the furnace, carrying coal to the kitchen, wood to all the open fireplaces in the house, cleaning the windows, cleaning brasses, cleaning all boots, carrying everything that is heavy, moving furniture for the parlor-maids to clean behind it, valeting all gentlemen, setting and waiting on table, attending the front door, telephoning and writing down messages, and--incessantly and ceaselessly, cleaning and polishing silver. in a small house, the butler polishes silver, but in a very big house one of the footmen is silver specialist, and does nothing else. nothing! if there is to be a party of any sort he puts on his livery and joins the others who line the hall and bring dishes to the table. but he does not assist in setting the table or washing dishes or in cleaning anything whatsoever--except silver. the butler also usually answers the telephone--if not, it is answered by the first footman. the first footman is deputy butler. the footmen also take turns in answering the door. in houses of great ceremony like those of the worldlys' and the gildings', there are always two footmen at the door if anyone is to be admitted. one to open the door and the other to conduct a guest into the drawing-room. but if formal company is expected, the butler himself is in the front hall with one or two footmen at the door. _the footmen's livery_ people who have big houses usually choose a color for their livery and never change it. maroon and buff, for instance, are the colors of the gildings; all their motor cars are maroon with buff lines and cream-colored or maroon linings. the chauffeurs and outside footmen wear maroon liveries. the house footmen, for everyday, wear ordinary footmen's liveries, maroon trousers and long-tailed coats with brass buttons and maroon-and-buff striped waistcoats. for gala occasions, mrs. gilding adds as many caterer's men as necessary, but they all are dressed in her full-dress livery, consisting of a "court" coat which comes together at the neck in front, and then cuts away to long tails at the back. the coat is of maroon broadcloth with frogs and epaulets of black braiding. there is a small standing collar of buff cloth, and a falling cravat of pleated cream-colored lace worn in front. the waistcoat is of buff satin, the breeches of black satin, cream-colored stockings, pumps, and the hair is powdered. it is first pomaded and then thickly powdered. wigs are never worn. mrs. worldly however compromises between the "court" footman and the ordinary one, and puts her footmen in green cloth coats cut like the everyday liveries, with silver buttons on which the crest is raised in relief, but adds black velvet collars, and black satin waistcoats in place of the everyday striped ones. black satin knee breeches, black silk stockings, and pumps with silver buckles, and their ordinary hair, cut short. the powdered footman's "court" livery is, as a matter of fact, very rarely seen. three or four houses in new york, and one or two otherwhere, would very likely include them all. knee breeches are more usual, but even those are seen in none but very lavish houses. to choose servants who are naturally well-groomed is more important than putting them in smart liveries. men must be close shaven and have their hair well cut. their linen must be immaculate, their shoes polished, their clothes brushed and in press, and their finger nails clean and well cared for. if a man's fingers are indelibly stained he would better wear white cotton gloves. =the cook= the kitchen is always in charge of the cook. in a small house, or in an apartment, she is alone and has all the cooking, cleaning of kitchen and larder, to do, the basement or kitchen bell to answer, and the servants' table to set and their dishes to wash as well as her kitchen utensils. in a bigger house, the kitchen-maid lights the kitchen fire, and does all cleaning of kitchen and pots and pans, answers the basement bell, sets the servants' table and washes the servants' table dishes. in a still bigger house, the second cook cooks for the servants always, and for the children sometimes, and assists the cook by preparing certain plainer portions of the meals, the cook preparing all dinner dishes, sauces and the more elaborate items on the menu. sometimes there are two or more kitchen-maids who merely divide the greater amount of work between them. in most houses of any size, the cook does all the marketing. she sees the lady of the house every morning, and submits menus for the day. in smaller houses, the lady does the ordering of both supplies and menus. _how a cook submits the menu_ in a house of largest size--at the gildings for instance, the chef writes in his "book" every evening, the menus for the next day, whether there is to be company or not. (none, of course, if the family are to be out for all meals.) this "book" is sent up to mrs. gilding with her breakfast tray. it is a loose-leaf blank book of rather large size. the day's menu sheet is on top, but the others are left in their proper sequence underneath, so that by looking at her engagement book to see who dined with her on such a date, and then looking at the menu for that same date, she knows--if she cares to--exactly what the dinner was. if she does not like the chef's choice, she draws a pencil through and writes in something else. if she has any orders or criticisms to make, she writes them on an envelope pad, folds the page, and seals it and puts the "note" in the book. if the menu is to be changed, the chef re-writes it, if not the page is left as it is, and the book put in a certain place in the kitchen. the butler always goes into the kitchen shortly after the book has come down, and copies the day's menus on a pad of his own. from this he knows what table utensils will be needed. this system is not necessary in medium sized or small houses, but where there is a great deal of entertaining it is much simpler for the butler to be able to go and "see for himself" than to ask the cook and--forget. and ask again, and the cook forget, and then--disturbance!--because the butler did not send down the proper silver dishes or have the proper plates ready, or had others heated unnecessarily. =the kitchen-maid= the kitchen-maids are under the direction of the cook, except one known colloquially as the "hall girl" who is supervised by the housekeeper. she is evidently a survival of the "between maid" of the english house. her sobriquet comes from the fact that she has charge of the servants' hall, or dining-room, and is in fact the waitress for them. she also takes care of the housekeeper's rooms, and carries all her meals up to her. if there is no housekeeper, the hall girl is under the direction of the cook. =the parlor-maid= the parlor-maid keeps the drawing-room and library in order. the useful man brings up the wood for the fireplaces, but the parlor-maid lays the fire. in some houses the parlor-maid takes up the breakfast trays; in other houses, the butler does this himself and then hands them to the lady's maid, who takes them into the bedrooms. the windows and the brasses are cleaned by the useful man and heavy furniture moved by him so she can clean behind them. the parlor-maid assists the butler in waiting at table, and washing dishes, and takes turns with him in answering the door and the telephone. in huge houses like the worldlys' and the gildings', the footmen assist the butler in the dining-room and at the door--and there is always a "pantry maid" who washes dishes and cleans the pantry. =the housemaid= the housemaid does all the chamber work, cleans all silver on dressing-tables, polishes fixtures in the bathroom--in other words takes care of the bedroom floors. in a bigger house, the head housemaid has charge of the linen and does the bedrooms of the lady and gentleman of the house and a few of the spare rooms. the second housemaid does the nurseries, extra spare rooms, and the servants' floor. the bigger the establishment, the more housemaids, and the work is further divided. the housemaid is by many people called the chambermaid. =uniforms= in all houses of importance and fashion, the parlor-maid and the housemaids, and the waitress (where there is no butler), are all dressed alike. their "work" dresses are of plain cambric and in whatever the "house color" may be, with large white aprons with high bibs, and eton collars, but no cuffs (as they must be able to unbutton their sleeves and turn them up.) those who serve in the dining-room must always dress before lunch, and the afternoon dresses vary according to the taste--and purse--of the lady of the house. where no uniforms are supplied, each maid is supposed to furnish herself with a plain black dress for afternoon, on which she wears collars and cuffs of embroidered muslin usually (always supplied her), and a small afternoon apron, with or without shoulder straps, and with or without a cap. in very "beautifully done" houses (all the dresses of the maids are furnished them), the color of the uniforms is chosen to harmonize with the dining-room. at the gildings', jr., for instance, where there are no men servants because mr. gilding does not like them, but where the house is as perfect as a picture on the stage, the waitress and parlor-maid wear in the blue and yellow dining-room, dresses of nattier blue taffeta with aprons and collars and cuffs of plain hemstitched cream-colored organdie, that is as transparent as possible; blue stockings and patent leather slippers with silver buckles, their hair always beautifully smooth. sometimes they wear caps and sometimes not, depending upon the waitress' appearance. twenty years ago, every maid in a lady's house wore a cap except the personal maid, who wore (and still does) a velvet bow, or nothing. but when every little slattern in every sloppy household had a small mat of whitish swiss pinned somewhere on an untidy head, and was decked out in as many yards of embroidery ruffling on her apron and shoulders as her person could carry, fashionable ladies began taking caps and trimmings off, and exacting instead that clothes be good in cut and hair be neatly arranged. a few ladies of great taste dress their maids according to individual becomingness; some faces look well under a cap, others look the contrary. a maid whose hair is rather fluffy--especially if it is dark--looks pretty in a cap, particularly of the coronet variety. no one looks well in a doily laid flat, but fluffy fair hair with a small mat tilted up against a knot of hair dressed high can look very smart. a young woman whose hair is straight and rebellious to order, can be made to look tidy and even attractive in a headdress that encircles the whole head. a good one for this purpose has a very narrow ruche from to inches long on either side of a long black velvet ribbon. the ruche goes part way, or all the way, around the head, and the velvet ribbon ties, with streamers hanging down the back. on the other hand, many extremely pretty young women with hair worn flat do not look well in caps of any description--except "dutch" ones which are, in most houses, too suggestive of fancy dress. if no caps are worn the hair must be faultlessly smooth and neat; and of course where two or more maids are seen together, they must be alike. it would not do to have one wear a cap and the other not. =the lady's maid= a first class lady's maid is required to be a hairdresser, a good packer and an expert needlewoman. her first duty is to keep her lady's clothes in order and to help her dress, and undress. she draws the bath, lays out underclothes, always brushes her lady's hair and usually dresses it, and gets out the dress to be worn, as well as the stockings, shoes, hat, veil, gloves, wrist bag, parasol, or whatever accessories go with the dress in question. as soon as the lady is dressed, everything that has been worn is taken to the sewing room and each article is gone over, carefully brushed if of woolen material, cleaned if silk. everything that is mussed is pressed, everything that can be suspected of not being immaculate is washed or cleaned with cleaning fluid, and when in perfect order is replaced where it belongs in the closet. underclothes as mended are put in the clothes hamper. stockings are looked over for rips or small holes, and the maid usually washes very fine stockings herself, also lace collars or small pieces of lace trimming. some maids have to wait up at night, no matter how late, until their ladies return; but as many, if not more, are never asked to wait longer than a certain hour. but the maid for a débutante in the height of the season, between the inevitable "go fetching" at this place and that, and mending of party dresses danced to ribbons and soiled by partner's hands on the back, and slippers "walked on" until there is quite as much black part as satin or metal, has no sinecure. _why two maids?_ in very important houses where mother and daughters go out a great deal there are usually two maids, one for the mother and one for the daughters. but even in moderate households it is seldom practical for a débutante and her mother to share a maid--at least during the height of the season. that a maid who has to go out night after night for weeks and even months on end, and sit in the dressing-rooms at balls until four and five and even six in the morning, is then allowed to go to bed and to sleep until luncheon is merely humane. and it can easily be seen that it is more likely that she will need the help of a seamstress to refurbish dance-frocks, than that she will have any time to devote to her young lady's mother--who in "mid-season," therefore, is forced to have a maid of her own, ridiculous as it sounds, that two maids for two ladies should be necessary! sometimes this is overcome by engaging an especial maid "by the evening" to go to parties and wait, and bring the débutante home again. and the maid at home can then be "maid for two." _dress of a lady's maid_ a lady's maid wears a black skirt, a laundered white waist, and a small white apron, the band of which buttons in the back. in traveling, a lady's maid always wears a small black silk apron and some maids wear black taffeta ones always. in the afternoon, she puts on a black waist with white collar and cuffs. mrs. gilding, jr., puts her maid in black taffeta with embroidered collar and cuffs. for "company occasions," when she waits in the dressing-room, she wears light gray taffeta with a very small embroidered mull apron with a narrow black velvet waist-ribbon, and collar and cuffs of mull to match--which is extremely pretty, but also extremely extravagant. =the valet= the valet (pronounced val-et not vallay) is what beau brummel called a gentleman's gentleman. his duties are exactly the same as those of the lady's maid--except that he does not sew! he keeps his employer's clothes in perfect order, brushes, cleans and presses everything as soon as it has been worn--even if only for a few moments. he lays out the clothes to be put on, puts away everything that is a personal belonging. some gentlemen like their valet to help them dress; run the bath, shave them and hold each article in readiness as it is to be put on. but most gentlemen merely like their clothes "laid out" for them, which means that trousers have belts or braces attached, shirts have cuff links and studs; and waistcoat buttons are put in. the valet also unpacks the bags of any gentleman guests when they come, valets them while there, and packs them when they go. he always packs for his own gentleman, buys tickets, looks after the luggage, and makes himself generally useful as a personal attendant, whether at home or when traveling. at big dinners, he is required (much against his will) to serve as a footman--in a footman's, not a butler's, livery. the valet wears no livery except on such occasions. his "uniform" is an ordinary business suit, dark and inconspicuous in color, with a black tie. in a bachelor's quarters a valet is often general factotum; not only valeting but performing the services of cook, butler, and even housemaid. =the nurse= everybody knows the nurse is either the comfort or the torment of the house. everyone also knows innumerable young mothers who put up with inexcusable crankiness from a crotchety middle-aged woman because she was "so wonderful" to the baby. and here let it be emphasized that such an one usually turns out to have been not wonderful to the baby at all. that she does not actually abuse a helpless infant is merely granting that she is not a "monster." devotion must always be unselfish; the nurse who is _really_ "wonderful" to the baby is pretty sure to be a person who is kind generally. in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred the sooner a domineering nurse--old or young--is got rid of, the better. it has been the experience of many a mother whose life had been made perfectly miserable through her belief that if she dismissed the tyrant the baby would suffer, that in the end--there _is_ always an end!--the baby was quite as relieved as the rest of the family when the "right sort" of a kindly and humane person took the tyrant's place. it is unnecessary to add that one can not be too particular in asking for a nurse's reference and in never failing to get a personal one from the lady she is leaving. not only is it necessary to have a sweet-tempered, competent and clean person, but her moral character is of utmost importance, since she is to be the constant and inseparable companion of the children whose whole lives are influenced by her example, especially where busy parents give only a small portion of time to their children. =courtesy to one's household= in a dignified house, a servant is never spoken to as jim, maisie, or katie, but always as james or margaret or katherine, and a butler is called by his last name, nearly always. the worldly's butler, for instance, is called hastings, not john. in england, a lady's maid is also called by her last name, and the cook, if married, is addressed as mrs. and the nurse is always called "nurse." a chef is usually called "chef" or else by his last name. always abroad, and every really well-bred lady or gentleman here, says "please" in asking that something be brought her or him. "please get me the book i left on the table in my room!" or "please give me some bread!" or "some bread, please." or one can say equally politely and omit the please, "i'd like some toast," but it is usual and instinctive to every lady or gentleman to add "please." in refusing a dish at the table, one must say "no, thank you," or "no, thanks," or else one shakes one's head. a head can be shaken politely or rudely. to be courteously polite, and yet keep one's walls up is a thing every thoroughbred person knows how to do--and a thing that everyone who is trying to become such must learn to do. a rule can't be given because there isn't any. as said in another chapter, a well-bred person always lives within the walls of his personal reserve, a vulgarian has no walls--or at least none that do not collapse at the slightest touch. but those who think they appear superior by being rude to others whom fortune has placed below them, might as well, did they but know it, shout their own unexalted origin to the world at large, since by no other method could it be more widely published. =the house with limited service= the fact that you live in a house with two servants, or in an apartment with only one, need not imply that your house lacks charm or even distinction, or that it is not completely the home of a lady or gentleman. but, as explained in the chapter on dinners, if you have limited service you must devise systematic economy of time and labor or you will have disastrous consequences. every person, after all, has only one pair of hands, and a day has only so many hours, and one thing is inevitable, which young housekeepers are apt to forget, a few can not do the work of many, and do it in the same way. it is all very well if the housemaid can not get into young mrs. gilding's room until lunch time, nor does it matter if its confusion looks like the aftermath of a cyclone. the housemaid has nothing to do the rest of the day but put that one room and bath in order. but in young mrs. gaily's small house where the housemaid is also the waitress, who is supposed to be "dressed" for lunch, it does not have to be pointed out that she can not sweep, dust, tidy up rooms, wash out bathtubs, polish fixtures, and at the same time be dressed in afternoon clothes. if mrs. gaily is out for lunch, it is true the chambermaid-waitress need not be dressed to wait on table, but her thoughtless young mistress would not be amiable if a visitor were to ring the door-bell in the early afternoon and have it opened by a maid in a rumpled "working" dress. supposing the time to put the bedroom in order is from ten to eleven each morning: it is absolutely necessary that mrs. gaily take her bath before ten so that even if she is not otherwise "dressed" she can be out of her bedroom and bath at ten o'clock promptly. she can go elsewhere while her room is done up and then come back and finish dressing later. in this case she must herself "tidy" any disorder that she makes in dressing; put away her négligé and slippers and put back anything out of place. on the days when mr. gaily does not go to the office he too must get up and out so that the house can be put in order. =the one maid alone= but where one maid alone cooks, cleans, waits on table, and furthermore serves as lady's maid and valet, she must necessarily be limited in the performance of each of these duties in direct proportion to their number. even though she be eagerly willing, quality must give way before quantity produced with the same equipment, or if quality is necessary then quantity must give way. in the house of a fashionable gay couple like the lovejoys' for instance, the time spent in "maiding" or "valeting" has to be taken from cleaning or cooking. besides cleaning and cooking, the one maid in their small apartment can press out mrs. lovejoy's dresses and do a little mending, but she can not sit down and spend one or two hours going over a dress in the way a specialist maid can. either mrs. lovejoy herself must do the sewing or the housework, or one or the other must be left undone. =the management of servants= it is certainly a greater pleasure and incentive to work for those who are appreciative than for those who continually find fault. everyone who did war work can not fail to remember how easy it was to work for, or with, some people, and how impossible to get anything done for others. and just as the "heads" of work-rooms or "wards" or "canteens" were either stimulating or dispiriting, so must they and their types also be to those who serve in their households. this, perhaps, explains why some people are always having a "servant problem"; finding servants difficult to get, more difficult to keep, and most difficult to get efficient work from. it is a question whether the "servant problem" is not more often a mistress problem. it must be! because, if you notice, those who have woes and complaints are invariably the same, just as others who never have any trouble are also the same. it does not depend on the size of the house; the lovejoys never have any trouble, and yet their one maid of all work has a far from "easy" place, and a vacancy at brookmeadows is always sought after, even though the oldnames spend ten months of the year in the country. neither is there any friction at the golden hall or great estates, even though the latter house is run by the butler--an almost inevitable cause of trouble. these houses represent a difference in range of from one alone, to nearly forty on the household payroll. =those who have persistent "trouble"= it might be well for those who have trouble to remember a few rules which are often overlooked: justice must be the foundation upon which every tranquil house is constructed. work must be as evenly divided as possible; one servant should not be allowed liberties not accorded to all. it is not just to be too lenient, any more than it is just to be unreasonably strict. to allow impertinence or sloppy work is inexcusable, but it is equally inexcusable to show causeless irritability or to be overbearing or rude. and there is no greater example of injustice than to reprimand those about you because you happen to be in a bad humor, and at another time overlook offenses that are greater because you are in an amiable mood. there is also no excuse for "correcting" either a servant or a child before people. [illustration: "the perfect mistress shows all those in her employ the consideration and trust due them as honorable self-respecting and conscientious human beings." [page .]] and when you do correct, do not forget to make allowances, if there be any reason why allowance should be made. if you live in a palace like golden hall, or any completely equipped house of important size, you overlook _nothing!_ there is no more excuse for delinquency than there is in the army. if anything happens, such as illness of one servant, there is another to take his (or her) place. a huge household is a machine and it is the business of the engineers--in other words, the secretary, housekeeper, chef or butler, to keep it going perfectly. but in a little house, it may not be fair to say "selma, the silver is dirty!" when there is a hot-air furnace and you have had company to every meal, and you have perhaps sent her on errands between times, and she has literally not had a moment. if you don't know whether she has had time or not, you could give her the benefit of the doubt and say (trustfully, not haughtily) "you have not had time to clean the silver, have you?" this--in case she has really been unable to clean it--points out just as well the fact that it is not shining, but is not a criticism. carelessness, on the other hand, when you know she has had plenty of time, should never be overlooked. another type that has "difficulties" is the distrustful--sometimes actually suspicious--person who locks everything tight and treats all those with whom she comes in contact as though they were meddlesomely curious at least, or at worst, dishonest. it is impossible to overstate the misfortune of this temperament. the servant who is "watched" for fear she "won't work," listened to for fear she may be gossiping, suspected of wanting to take a liberty of some sort, or of doing something else she shouldn't do, is psychologically encouraged, almost driven, to do these very things. the perfect mistress expects perfect service, but it never occurs to her that perfect service will not be voluntarily and gladly given. she, on her part, shows all of those in her employ the consideration and trust due them as honorable, self-respecting and conscientious human beings. if she has reason to think they are not all this, a lady does not keep them in her house. =etiquette of service= the well-trained high-class servant is faultlessly neat in appearance, reticent in manner, speaks in a low voice, walks and moves quickly but silently, and is unfailingly courteous and respectful. she (or he) always knocks on a door, even of the library or sitting-room, but opens it without waiting to hear "come in," as knocking on a downstairs door is merely politeness. at a bedroom door she would wait for permission to enter. in answering a bell, she asks "did you ring, sir?" or if especially well-mannered she asks "did madam ring?" a servant always answers "yes, madam," or "very good, sir," never "yes," "no," "all right," or "sure." young people in the house are called "miss alice" or "mr. ollie," possibly "mr. oliver," but they are generally called by their familiar names with the prefix of miss or mister. younger children are called miss kittie and master fred, but never by the nurse, who calls them by their first names until they are grown--sometimes always. all cards and small packages are presented on a tray. =time "out" and "in"= no doubt in the far-off districts there are occasional young women who work long and hard and for little compensation, but at least in all cities, servants have their definite time out. furthermore, they are allowed in humanely run houses to have "times in" when they can be at home to friends who come to see them. in every well-appointed house of size there is a sitting-room which is furnished with comfortable chairs and sofa if possible, a good droplight to read by, often books, and always magazines (sent out as soon as read by the family). in other words, they have an inviting room to use as their own exactly as though they were living at home. if no room is available, the kitchen has a cover put on the table, a droplight, and a few restful chairs are provided. =the maids' men friends= are maids allowed to receive men friends? certainly they are! whoever in remote ages thought it was better to forbid "followers" the house, and have mary and selma slip out of doors to meet them in the dark, had very distorted notions to say the least. and any lady who knows so little of human nature as to make the same rule for her maids to-day is acting in ignorant blindness of her own duties to those who are not only in her employ but also under her protection. a pretty young woman whose men friends come in occasionally and play cards with the others, or dance to a small and not loud phonograph in the kitchen, is merely being treated humanly. because she wears a uniform makes her no less a young girl, with a young girl's love of amusement, which if not properly provided for her "at home" will be sought for in sinister places. this responsibility is one that many ladies who are occupied with charitable and good works elsewhere often overlook under their own roof. it does not mean that the kitchen should be a scene of perpetual revelry and mirth that can by any chance disturb the quiet of the neighborhood or even the family. unseemly noise is checked at once, much as it would be if young people in the drawing-room became disturbing. continuous company is not suitable either, and those who abuse privileges naturally must have them curtailed, but the really high-class servant who does not appreciate kindness and requite it with considerate and proper behavior is rare. =service in formal entertaining= =on the sidewalk and in the hall= for a wedding, or a ball, and sometimes for teas and big dinners, there is an awning from curb to front door. but usually, especially in good weather, a dinner or other moderate sized evening entertainment is prepared for by stretching a carpet (a red one invariably!) down the front steps and across the pavement to the curb's edge. at all important functions there is a chauffeur (or a caterer's man) on the sidewalk to open the door of motors, and a footman or waitress stationed inside the door of the house to open it on one's approach. this same servant, or more often another stationed in the hall beyond, directs arriving guests to the dressing-rooms. =dressing-rooms= houses especially built for entertaining, have two small rooms on the ground floor, each with its lavatory, and off of it, a rack for the hanging of coats and wraps. in most houses, however, guests have to go up-stairs where two bedrooms are set aside, one as a ladies', and the other as a gentlemen's coat room. at an afternoon tea in houses where dressing-rooms have not been installed by the architect, the end of the hall, if it is wide, is sometimes supplied with a coat rack (which may be rented from a caterer) for the gentlemen. ladies are in this case supposed to go into the drawing-room as they are, or go up-stairs to the bedroom put at their disposal and in charge of a lady's maid or housemaid. if the entertainment is very large, checks are always given to avoid confusion in the dressing-rooms exactly as in public "check rooms." in the ladies' dressing-room--whether downstairs or up--there must be an array of toilet necessities such as brushes and combs; well-placed mirrors, hairpins, powder with stacks of individual cotton balls, or a roll of cotton in a receptacle from which it may be pulled. in the lavatory there must be fresh soap and plenty of small hand towels. the lady's personal maid and one or two assistants if necessary, depending upon the size of the party, but one and all of them as neatly dressed as possible, assist ladies off and on with their wraps, and give them coat checks. a lady's maid should always look the arriving guests over--not boldly nor too apparently, but with a quick glance for anything that may be amiss. if the drapery of a dress is caught up on its trimming, or a fastening undone, it is her duty to say: "excuse me, madam (or miss), but there is a hook undone"--or "the drapery of your gown is caught--shall i fix it?" which she does as quietly and quickly as possible. if there is a rip of any sort, she says: "i think there is a thread loose, i'll just tack it. it will only be a moment." the well-bred maid instinctively makes little of a guest's accident, and is as considerate as the hostess herself. employees instinctively adopt the attitude of their employer. in the gentlemen's coat room of a perfectly appointed house the valet's attitude is much the same. if a gentleman's coat should have met with any accident, the valet says: "let me have it fixed for you, sir, it'll only take a moment!" and he divests the gentleman of his coat and takes it to a maid and asks her please to take a stitch in it. meanwhile he goes back to his duties in the dressing-room until he is sure the coat is finished, when he gets it and politely helps the owner into it. in a small country house where dressing-room space is limited, the quaint tables copied from old ones are very useful, screened off at the back of the downstairs hall, or in a very small lavatory. they look, when shut, like an ordinary table, but when the top is lifted a mirror, the height of the table's width, swings forward and a series of small compartments and trays both deep and shallow are laid out on either side. the trays of course are kept filled with hairpins, pins and powder, and the compartments have sunburn lotion and liquid powder, brush, comb and whiskbroom, and whatever else the hostess thinks will be useful. =the announcement of guests= the butler's duty is to stand near the entrance to the reception or drawing-room, and as each guest arrives (unless they are known to him) he asks: "what name, please?" he then leads the way into the room where the hostess is receiving, and says distinctly: "mr. and mrs. jones." if mrs. jones is considerably in advance of her husband, he says: "mrs. jones!" then waits for mr. jones to approach before announcing: "mr. jones!" at a very large party such as a ball, or a very big tea or musical, he does not leave his place, but stands just outside the drawing-room, and the hostess stands just within, and as the guests pass through the door, he announces each one's name. it is said to be customary in certain places to have waitresses announce people. but in new york guests are never announced if there are no men servants. at a very large function such as a ball or tea, a hostess who has no butler at home, always employs one for the occasion. if, for instance, she is giving a ball for her daughter, and all the sons and daughters of her own acquaintance are invited, the chances are that not half or even a quarter of her guests are known to her by sight, so that their announcement is not a mere matter of form but of necessity. =the announcement of dinner= when the butler on entering the room to announce dinner, happens to catch the attention of the hostess, he merely bows. otherwise he approaches within speaking distance and says, "dinner is served." he never says, "dinner is ready." at a large dinner where it is quite a promenade to circle the table in search of one's name, the butler stands just within the dining-room and either reads from a list or says from memory "right" or "left" as the case may be, to each gentleman and lady on approaching. in a few of the smartest houses a leaf has been taken from the practise of royalty and a table plan arranged in the front hall, which is shown to each gentleman at the moment when he takes the envelope enclosing the name of his partner at dinner. this table plan is merely a diagram made in leather with white name cards that slip into spaces corresponding to the seats at the table. on this a gentleman can see exactly where he sits and between whom; so that if he does not know the lady who is to be on his left as well as the one he is to "take in," he has plenty of time before going to the table to ask his host to present him. at the end of the evening, the butler is always at the front door--and by that time, unless the party is very large, he should have remembered their names, if he is a perfect butler, and as mr. and mrs. jones appear he opens the door and calls down to the chauffeur "mr. jones' car!" and in the same way "mr. smith's car!" "miss gilding's car!" when a car is at the door, the chauffeur runs up the steps and says to the butler: "miss gilding's car" or "mrs. jones' car." the butler then announces to either mr. or mrs. jones, "your car, sir," or "your car, madam," and holds the door open for her to go out, or he may say, "your car, miss," if the gilding car comes first. =dining-room service at private entertainments= supper at a ball in a great house (big enough for a ball) is usually in charge of the butler, who by "supper time" is free from his duties of "announcing" and is able to look after the dining-room service. the sit-down supper at a ball is served exactly like a dinner--or a wedding breakfast; and the buffet supper of a dance is like the buffet of a wedding reception. at a large tea where the butler is on duty "announcing" at the same time that other guests are going into the dining-room for refreshments, the dining-room service has to be handed over to the first footman and his assistants or a capable waitress is equally able to meet the situation. she should have at least two maids with her, as they have to pour all cups of tea and bouillon and chocolate as well as to take away used cups and plates and see that the food on the table is replenished. at a small tea where ladies perform the office of pouring, one man or maid in the dining-room is plenty, to bring in more hot water or fresh cups, or whatever the table hostesses have need of. =formal service without men servants= many, and very fastidious, people, who live in big houses and entertain constantly, have neither men servants nor employ a caterer, ever. efficient women take men's places equally well, though two services are omitted. women never (in new york at least) announce guests or open the doors of motors. but there is no difference whatsoever in the details of the pantry, dining-room, hall or dressing-room, whether the services are performed by men or women. (no women, of course, are ever on duty in the gentlemen's dressing-rooms.) at an evening party, the door is opened by the waitress, assisted by the parlor-maid who directs the way to the dressing-rooms. the guests, when they are ready to go in the drawing-room, approach the hostess unannounced. a guest who may not be known by sight does not wait for her hostess to recognize her but says at once, "how do you do, mrs. eminent, i'm mrs. joseph blank"; or a young girl says, "i am constance style" (not "miss style," unless she is beyond the "twenties"); or a married woman merely announces herself as "mrs. town." she does not add her husband's name as it is taken for granted that the gentleman following her is mr. town. chapter xiii teas and other afternoon parties =teas= except at a wedding, the function strictly understood by the word "reception" went out of fashion, in new york at least, during the reign of queen victoria, and its survivor is a public or semi-public affair presided over by a committee, and is a serious, rather than a merely social event. the very word "reception" brings to mind an aggregation of personages, very formal, very dressed up, very pompous, and very learned, among whom the ordinary mortal can not do other than wander helplessly in the labyrinth of the specialist's jargon. art critics on a varnishing day reception, are sure to dwell on the effect of a new technique, and the comment of most of us, to whom a painting ought to look like a "picture," is fatal. equally fatal to meet an explorer and not know where or what he explored; or to meet a celebrated author and not have the least idea whether he wrote detective stories or expounded taoism. on the other hand it is certainly discouraging after studying up on the latest cretan excavations in order to talk intelligently to professor diggs, to be pigeon-holed for the afternoon beside mrs. newmother whose interest in discovery is limited to "a new tooth in baby's head." yet the difference between a reception and a tea is one of atmosphere only, like the difference in furnishing twin houses. one is enveloped in the heavy gloom of the mid-victorian period, the other is light and alluring in the fashion of to-day. a "tea," even though it be formal, is nevertheless friendly and inviting. one does not go in "church" clothes nor with ceremonious manner; but in an informal and every-day spirit, to see one's friends and be seen by them. =the afternoon tea with dancing= the afternoon tea with dancing is usually given to "bring out" a daughter, or to present a new daughter-in-law. the invitations are the same whether one hundred or two thousand are sent out. for instance: mrs. grantham jones miss muriel jones will be at home on tuesday, the third of december from four until seven o'clock the fitz-cherry dancing as invitations to formal teas of this sort are sent to the hostess' "general" visiting list, and very big houses are comparatively few, a ballroom is nearly always engaged at a hotel. many hotels have a big and a small ballroom, and unless one's acquaintance is enormous the smaller room is preferable. too much space for too few people gives an effect of emptiness which always is suggestive of failure; also one must not forget that an undecorated room needs more people to make it look "trimmed" than one in which the floral decoration is lavish. on the other hand, a "crush" is very disagreeable, even though it always gives the effect of "success." the arrangements are not as elaborate as for a ball. at most a screen of palms behind which the musicians sit (unless they sit in a gallery), perhaps a few festoons of green here and there, and the débutante's own flowers banked on tables where she stands to receive, form as much decoration as is ever attempted. whether in a public ballroom or a private drawing-room, the curtains over the windows are drawn and the lights lighted as if for a ball in the evening. if the tea is at a private house there is no awning unless it rains, but there is a chauffeur or coachman at the curb to open motor doors, and a butler, or caterer's man, to open the door of the house before any one has time to ring. guests as they arrive are announced either by the hostess' own butler or a caterer's "announcer." the hostess receives everyone as at a ball; if she and her daughter are for the moment standing alone, the new arrival, if a friend, stands talking with them until a newer arrival takes his or her place. after "receiving" with her mother or mother-in-law for an hour or so, as soon as the crowd thins a little, the débutante or bride may be allowed to dance. the younger people, as soon as they have shaken hands with the hostess, dance. the older ones sit about, or talk to friends or take tea. at a formal tea, the tea-table is exactly like that at a wedding reception, in that it is a large table set as a buffet, and is always in charge of the caterer's men, or the hostess' own butler or waitress and assistants. it is never presided over by deputy hostesses. =the menu is limited= only tea, bouillon, chocolate, bread and cakes are served. there can be all sorts of sandwiches, hot biscuits, crumpets, muffins, sliced cake and little cakes in every variety that a cook or caterer can devise--whatever can come under the head of "bread and cake" is admissible; but nothing else, or it becomes a "reception," and not a "tea." at the end of the table or on a separate table near by, there are bowls or pitchers of orangeade or lemonade or "punch" (meaning in these days something cold that has fruit juice in it) for the dancers, exactly as at a ball. guests go to the table and help themselves to their own selection of bread and cakes. the chocolate, already poured into cups and with whipped cream on top, is passed on a tray by a servant. tea also poured into cups, not mixed but accompanied by a small pitcher of cream, bowl of sugar, and dish of lemon, is also passed on a tray. a guest taking her plate of food in one hand and her tea or chocolate in the other, finds herself a chair somewhere, if possible, near a table, so that she can take her tea without discomfort. =afternoon teas without dancing= afternoon teas without dancing are given in honor of visiting celebrities or new neighbors or engaged couples, or to "warm" a new house; or, most often, for a house-guest from another city. the invitation is a visiting card of the hostess with "to meet mrs. so-and-so" across the top of it and "jan. , tea at o'clock" in the lower corner, opposite the address. at a tea of this description, tea and chocolate may be passed on trays or poured by two ladies, as will be explained below. unless the person for whom the tea is given is such a celebrity that the "tea" becomes a "reception," the hostess does not stand at the door, but merely near it so that anyone coming in may easily find her. the ordinary afternoon tea given for one reason or another is, in winter, merely and literally, being at home on a specified afternoon with the blinds and curtains drawn, the room lighted as at night, a fire burning and a large tea-table spread in the dining-room or a small one near the hearth. an afternoon tea in summer is the same, except that artificial light is never used, and the table is most often on a veranda. ="do come in for a cup of tea"= this is best society's favorite form of invitation. it is used on nearly every occasion whether there is to be music or a distinguished visitor, or whether a hostess has merely an inclination to see her friends. she writes on her personal visiting card: "do come in on friday for a cup of tea and hear ellwin play, or farrish sing, or to meet senator west, or lady x." or even more informally: "i have not seen you for so long." invitations to a tea of this description are never "general." a hostess asks either none but close friends, or at most her "dining" list; sometimes this sort of a "tea" is so small that she sits behind her own tea-table--exactly as she does every afternoon. but if the tea is of any size, from twenty upwards, the table is set in the dining-room and two intimate friends of the hostess "pour" tea at one end, and chocolate at the other. the ladies who "pour" are always especially invited beforehand and always wear afternoon dresses, with hats, of course, as distinguished from the street clothes of other guests. as soon as a hostess decides to give a tea, she selects two friends for this duty who are, in her opinion, decorative in appearance and also who (this is very important) can be counted on for gracious manners to everyone and under all circumstances. it does not matter if a guest going into the dining-room for a cup of tea or chocolate does not know the deputy hostesses who are "pouring." it is perfectly correct for a stranger to say "may i have a cup of tea?" the one pouring should answer very, responsively, "certainly! how do you like it? strong or weak?" if the latter, she deluges it with hot water, and again watching for the guest's negative or approval, adds cream or lemon or sugar. or, preferring chocolate, the guest perhaps goes to the other end of the table and asks for a cup of chocolate. the table hostess at that end also says "certainly," and pours out chocolate. if she is surrounded with people, she smiles as she hands it out, and that is all. but if she is unoccupied and her momentary "guest by courtesy" is alone, it is merest good manners on her part to make a few pleasant remarks. very likely when asked for chocolate she says: "how nice of you! i have been feeling very neglected at my end. everyone seems to prefer tea." whereupon the guest ventures that people are afraid of chocolate because it is so fattening or so hot. after an observation or two about the weather, or the beauty of the china or how good the little cakes look, or the sandwiches taste, the guest finishes her chocolate. if the table hostess is still unoccupied the guest smiles and slightly nods "good-by," but if the other's attention has been called upon by someone else, she who has finished her chocolate, leaves unnoticed. if another lady coming into the dining-room is an acquaintance of one of the table hostesses, the new visitor draws up a chair, if there is room, and drinks her tea or chocolate at the table. but as soon as she has finished, she should give her place up to a newer arrival. or perhaps a friend appears, and the two take their tea together over in another part of the room, or at vacant places farther down the table. the tea-table is not set with places; but at a table where ladies are pouring, and especially at a tea that is informal, a number of chairs are usually ready to be drawn up for those who like to take their tea at the table. in many cities, strangers who find themselves together in the house of a friend in common, always talk. in new york smart people always do at dinners or luncheons, but never at a general entertainment. their cordiality to a stranger would depend largely upon the informal, or intimate, quality of the tea party; it would depend on who the stranger might be, and who the new yorker. mrs. worldly would never dream of speaking to anyone--no matter whom--if it could be avoided. mrs. kindhart on the other hand, talks to everyone, everywhere and always. mrs. kindhart's position is as good as mrs. worldly's every bit, but perhaps she can be more relaxed; not being the conspicuous hostess that mrs. worldly is, she is not so besieged by position-makers and invitation-seekers. perhaps mrs. worldly, finding that nearly every one who approaches her wants something, has come instinctively to avoid each new approach. [illustration: "the afternoon tea-table is the same in its service whether in the tiny bandbox house of the newest bride, or in the drawing-room of mrs. worldly of great estates." [page .]] =the every-day afternoon tea table= the every-day afternoon tea table is familiar to everyone; there is not the slightest difference in its service whether in the tiny bandbox house of the newest bride, or in the drawing-room of mrs. worldly of great estates, except that in the little house the tray is brought in by a woman--often a picture in appearance and appointment--instead of a butler with one or two footmen in his wake. in either case a table is placed in front of the hostess. a tea-table is usually of the drop-leaf variety because it is more easily moved than a solid one. there are really no "correct" dimensions; any small table is suitable. it ought not to be so high that the hostess seems submerged behind it, nor so small as to be overhung by the tea tray and easily knocked over. it is usually between and inches wide and from to inches long, or it may be oval or oblong. a double-decked table that has its second deck above the main table is not good because the tea tray perched on the upper deck is neither graceful nor convenient. in proper serving, not only of tea but of cold drinks of all sorts, even where a quantity of bottles, pitchers and glasses need space, everything should be brought on a tray and not trundled in on a tea-wagon! a cloth must always be first placed on the table, before putting down the tray. the tea cloth may be a yard, a yard and a half, or two yards square. it may barely cover the table, or it may hang half a yard over each edge. a yard and a quarter is the average size. a tea cloth can be colored, but the conventional one is of white linen, with little or much white needlework or lace, or both. on this is put a tray big enough to hold everything except the plates of food. the tray may be a massive silver one that requires a footman with strong arms to lift it, or it may be of sheffield or merely of effectively lacquered tin. in any case, on it should be: a kettle which ought to be already boiling, with a spirit lamp under it, an empty tea-pot, a caddy of tea, a tea strainer and slop bowl, cream pitcher and sugar bowl, and, on a glass dish, lemon in slices. a pile of cups and saucers and a stack of little tea plates, all to match, with a napkin (about inches square, hemstitched or edged to match the tea cloth) folded on each of the plates, like the filling of a layer cake, complete the paraphernalia. each plate is lifted off with its own napkin. then on the tea-table, back of the tray, or on the shelves of a separate "curate," a stand made of three small shelves, each just big enough for one good-sized plate, are always two, usually three, varieties of cake and hot breads. =things people eat at tea= the top dish on the "curate" should be a covered one, and holds hot bread of some sort; the two lower dishes may be covered or not, according to whether the additional food is hot or cold; the second dish usually holds sandwiches, and the third cake. or perhaps all the dishes hold cake; little fancy cakes for instance, and pastries and slices of layer cakes. many prefer a simpler diet, and have bread and butter, or toasted crackers, supplemented by plain cookies. others pile the "curate" until it literally staggers, under pastries and cream cakes and sandwiches of pâté de foie gras or mayonnaise. others, again, like marmalade, or jam, or honey on bread and butter or on buttered toast or muffins. this necessitates little butter knives and a dish of jam added to the already overloaded tea tray. selection of afternoon tea food is entirely a matter of whim, and new food-fads sweep through communities. for a few months at a time, everyone, whether in a private house or a country club, will eat nothing but english muffins and jam, then suddenly they like only toasted cheese crackers, or sally lunn, or chocolate cake with whipped cream on top. the present fad of a certain group in new york is bacon and toast sandwiches and fresh hot gingerbread. let it be hoped for the sake of the small household that it will die out rather than become epidemic, since the gingerbread must be baked every afternoon, and the toast and bacon are two other items that come from a range. sandwiches for afternoon tea as well as for all collations, are made by buttering the end of the loaf, spreading on the "filling" and then cutting off the prepared slice as thin as possible. a second slice, unspread, makes the other side of the sandwich. when it is put together, the crust is either cut off leaving a square and the square again divided diagonally into two triangular sandwiches, or the sandwich is cut into shape with a regular cutter. in other words, a "party" sandwich is not the sort of sandwich to eat--or order--when hungry! the tea served to a lady who lives alone and cares for only one dish of eatables would naturally eliminate the other two. but if a visitor is "received," the servant on duty should, without being told, at once bring in at least another dish and an additional cup, saucer, plate and napkin. afternoon tea at a very large house party or where especially invited people are expected for tea, should include two plates of hot food such as toast or hot biscuits split open and buttered, toasted and buttered english muffins, or crumpets, corn muffins or hot gingerbread. two cold plates should contain cookies or fancy cakes, and perhaps a layer cake. in hot weather, in place of one of the hot dishes, there should be pâté or lettuce sandwiches, and always a choice of hot or iced tea, or perhaps iced coffee or chocolate frappé, but rarely if ever, anything else. =the etiquette of tea serving and drinking= as tea is the one meal of intimate conversation, a servant never comes to the room at tea-time unless rung for, to bring fresh water or additional china or food, or to take away used dishes. when the tray and curate are brought in, individual tables, usually glass topped and very small and low, are put beside each of the guests, and the servant then withdraws. the hostess herself "makes" the tea and pours it. those who sit near enough to her put out their hands for their cup-and-saucer. if any ladies are sitting farther off, and a gentleman is present, he, of course, rises and takes the tea from the hostess to the guest. he also then passes the curate, afterward putting it back where it belongs and resuming his seat. if no gentleman is present, a lady gets up and takes her own tea which the hostess hands her, carries it to her own little individual table, comes back, takes a plate and napkin, helps herself to what she likes and goes to her place. if the cake is very soft and sticky or filled with cream, small forks must be laid on the tea-table. as said above, if jam is to be eaten on toast or bread, there must be little butter knives to spread it with. each guest in taking her plate helps herself to toast and jam and a knife and carries her plate over to her own little table. she then carries her cup of tea to her table and sits down comfortably to drink it. if there are no little tables, she either draws her chair up to the tea-table, or manages as best she can to balance plate, cup and saucer on her lap--a very difficult feat! in fact, the hostess who, providing no individual tables, expects her guest to balance knife, fork, jam, cream cake, plate and cup and saucer, all on her knees, should choose her friends in the circus rather than in society. =the garden party= the garden party is merely an afternoon tea out of doors. it may be as elaborate as a sit-down wedding breakfast or as simple as a miniature strawberry festival. at an elaborate one (in the rainy section of our country) a tent or marquise with sides that can be easily drawn up in fine weather and dropped in rain, and with a good dancing floor, is often put up on the lawn or next to the veranda, so that in case of storm people will not be obliged to go out of doors. the orchestra is placed within or near open sides of the tent, so that it can he heard on the lawn and veranda as well as where they are dancing. or instead of a tea with dancing, if most of the guests are to be older, there may be a concert or other form of professional entertainment. on the lawn there are usually several huge bright-colored umbrella tents, and under each a table and a group of chairs, and here and there numerous small tables and chairs. for, although the afternoon tea is always put in the dining-room footmen or maids carry varieties of food out on large trays to the lawn, and the guests hold plates on their knees and stand glasses on tables nearby. at a garden party the food is often much more prodigal than at a tea in town. sometimes it is as elaborate as at a wedding reception. in addition to hot tea and chocolate, there is either iced coffee or a very melted café parfait, or frosted chocolate in cups. there are also pitchers of various drinks that have rather mysterious ingredients, but are all very much iced and embellished with crushed fruits and mint leaves. there are often berries with cream, especially in strawberry season, on an estate that prides itself on those of its own growing, as well as the inevitable array of fancy sandwiches and cakes. at teas and musicales and all entertainments where the hostess herself is obliged to stand at the door, her husband or a daughter (if the hostess is old enough, and lucky enough to have one) or else a sister or a very close friend, should look after the guests, to see that any who are strangers are not helplessly wandering about alone, and that elderly ladies are given seats if there is to be a performance, or to show any other courtesies that devolve upon a hostess. =the atmosphere of hospitality= the atmosphere of hospitality is something very intangible, and yet nothing is more actually felt--or missed. there are certain houses that seem to radiate warmth like an open wood fire, there are others that suggest an arrival by wireless at the north pole, even though a much brighter actual fire may be burning on the hearth in the drawing-room of the second than of the first. some people have the gift of hospitality; others whose intentions are just as kind and whose houses are perfection in luxury of appointments, seem to petrify every approach. such people appearing at a picnic color the entire scene with the blue light of their austerity. such people are usually not masters, but slaves, of etiquette. their chief concern is whether this is correct, or whether that is properly done, or is this person or that such an one as they care to know? they seem, like _hermione_ (don marquis's heroine), to be anxiously asking themselves, "have i failed to-day, or have i not?" introspective people who are fearful of others, fearful of themselves, are never successfully popular hosts or hostesses. if you for instance, are one of these, if you are _really_ afraid of knowing some one who might some day prove unpleasant, if you are such a snob that you can't take people at their face value, then why make the effort to bother with people at all? why not shut your front door tight and pull down the blinds and, sitting before a mirror in your own drawing-room, order tea for two? [illustration: "the perfect example of a formal dinner table of wealth, luxury and taste, which involves no effort on the part of the hostess of a great house beyond deciding upon the date and the principal guests who are to form the nucleus of the party." [page .]] chapter xiv formal dinners =not for the novice to attempt= if the great world of society were a university which issued degrees to those whom it trains to its usages, the _magna cum laude_ honors would be awarded without question, not to the hostess who may have given the most marvelous ball of the decade, but to her who knows best every component detail of preparation and service, no less than every inexorable rule of etiquette, in formal dinner-giving. to give a perfect dinner of ceremony is the supreme accomplishment of a hostess! it means not alone perfection of furnishing, of service, of culinary skill, but also of personal charm, of tact. the only other occasion when a hostess must have equal--and possibly even greater ability--is the large and somewhat formal week-end party, which includes a dinner or two as by no means its least formidable features. there are so many aspects to be considered in dinner giving that it is difficult to know whether to begin up-stairs or down, or with furnishing, or service, or people, or manners! one thing is certain, no novice should ever begin her social career by attempting a formal dinner, any more than a pupil swimmer, upon being able to take three strokes alone, should attempt to swim three miles out to sea. the former will as surely drown as the latter. =how a dinner is given in a great house= when mrs. worldly gives a dinner, it means no effort on her part whatsoever beyond deciding upon the date and the principal guests who are to form the nucleus; every further detail is left to her subordinates--even to the completion of her list of guests. for instance, she decides that she will have an "older" dinner, and finding that the tenth is available for herself, she tells her secretary to send out invitations for that date. she does not have especial cards engraved but uses the dinner blank described in the chapter on invitations. she then looks through her "dinner list" and orders her secretary to invite the oldworlds, the eminents, the learneds, the wellborns, the highbrows, and the onceweres. she also picks out three or four additional names to be substituted for those who regret. then turning to the "younger married" list she searches for a few suitable but "amusing" or good-looking ones to give life to her dinner which might otherwise be heavy. but her favorites do not seem appropriate. it will not do to ask the bobo gildings, not because of the difference in age but because lucy gilding smokes like a furnace and is miserable unless she can play bridge for high stakes, and, just as soon as she can bolt through dinner, sit at a card table; while mrs. highbrow and mrs. oncewere quite possibly disapprove of women's smoking and are surely horrified at "gambling." the smartlings won't do either, for the same reason, nor the gaylies. she can't ask the newell riches either, because mrs. oldworld and mrs. wellborn both dislike vulgarity too much to find compensation in qualities which are merely amusing. so she ends by adding her own friends the kindharts and the normans, who "go" with everyone, and a few somewhat younger people, and approves her secretary's suggestions as to additional names if those first invited should "regret." the list being settled, mrs. worldly's own work is done. she sends word to her cook that there will be twenty-four on the tenth; the menu will be submitted to her later, which she will probably merely glance at and send back. she never sees or thinks about her table, which is in the butler's province. on the morning of the dinner her secretary brings her the place cards, (the name of each person expected, written on a separate card) and she puts them in the order in which they are to be placed on the table, very much as though playing solitaire. starting with her own card at one end and her husband's at the other, she first places the lady of honor on his right, the second in importance on his left. then on either side of herself, she puts the two most important gentlemen. the others she fits in between, trying to seat side by side those congenial to each other. [illustration: "detail of place set at a formal dinner table of a great house." [page .]] when the cards are arranged, the secretary attends to putting the name of the lady who sits on each gentleman's right in the envelope addressed to him. she then picks up the place cards still stacked in their proper sequence, and takes them to the butler who will put them in the order arranged on the table after it is set. fifteen minutes before the dinner hour, mrs. worldly is already standing in her drawing-room. she has no personal responsibility other than that of being hostess. the whole machinery of equipment and service runs seemingly by itself. it does not matter whether she knows what the menu is. her cook is more than capable of attending to it. that the table shall be perfect is merely the every-day duty of the butler. she knows without looking that one of the chauffeurs is on the sidewalk; that footmen are in the hall; that her own maid is in the ladies' dressing-room, and the valet in that of the gentlemen; and that her butler is just outside the door near which she is standing. so with nothing on her mind (except a jewelled ornament and perfectly "done" hair) she receives her guests with the tranquillity attained only by those whose household--whether great or small--can be counted on to run like a perfectly coordinated machine. =how a dinner can be bungled= this is the contrasting picture to the dinner at the worldly's--a picture to show you particularly who are a bride how awful an experiment in dinner giving can be. let us suppose that you have a quite charming house, and that your wedding presents included everything necessary to set a well-appointed table. you have not very experienced servants, but they would all be good ones with a little more training. you have been at home for so few meals you don't quite know how experienced they are. your cook at least makes good coffee and eggs and toast for breakfast, and the few other meals she has cooked seemed to be all right, and she is such a nice clean person! so when your house is "in order" and the last pictures and curtains are hung, the impulse suddenly comes to you to give a dinner! your husband thinks it is a splendid idea. it merely remains to decide whom you will ask. you hesitate between a few of your own intimates, or older people, and decide it would be such fun to ask a few of the hostesses whose houses you have almost lived at ever since you "came out." you decide to ask mrs. toplofty, mr. clubwin doe, the worldlys, the gildings, and the kindharts and the wellborns. with yourselves that makes twelve. you can't have more than twelve because you have only a dozen of everything; in fact you decide that twelve will be pretty crowded, but that it will be safe to ask that number because a few are sure to "regret." so you write notes (since it is to be a formal dinner), and--they all accept! you are a little worried about the size of the dining-room, but you are overcome by the feeling of your popularity. now the thing to do is to prepare for a dinner. the fact that nora probably can't make fancy dishes does not bother you a bit. in your mind's eye you see delicious plain food passed; you must get sigrid a dress that properly fits her, and delia, the chambermaid (who was engaged with the understanding that she was to serve in the dining-room when there was company), has not yet been at table, but she is a very willing young person who will surely look well. nora, when you tell her who are coming, eagerly suggests the sort of menu that would appear on the table of the worldlys or the gildings. you are thrilled at the thought of your own kitchen producing the same. that it may be the same in name only, does not occur to you. you order flowers for the table, and candy for your four compotiers. you pick out your best tablecloth, but you find rather to your amazement that when the waitress asks you about setting the table, you have never noticed in detail how the places are laid. knives and spoons go on the right of the plate, of course, and forks on the left, but which goes next to the plate, or whether the wine glasses should stand nearer or beyond the goblet you can only guess. it is quite simple, however, to give directions in serving; you just tell the chambermaid that she is to follow the waitress, and pass the sauces and the vegetables. and you have already explained carefully to the latter that she must not deal plates around the table like a pack of cards, or ever take them off in piles either. (_that_ much at least you do know.) you also make it a point above everything that the silver must be very clean; sigrid seems to understand, and with the optimism of youth, you approach the dinner hour without misgiving. the table, set with your wedding silver and glass, looks quite nice. you are a little worried about the silver--it does look rather yellow, but perhaps it is just a shadow. then you notice there are a great many forks on the table! you ask your husband what is the matter with the forks? he does not see anything wrong. you need them all for the dinner you ordered, how can there be less? so you straighten a candlestick that was out of line, and put the place cards on. then you go into the drawing-room. you don't light the fire until the last moment, because you want it to be burning brightly when your guests arrive. your drawing-room looks a little stiff somehow, but an open fire more than anything else makes a room inviting, and you light it just as your first guest rings the bell. as mr. clubwin doe enters, the room looks charming, then suddenly the fire smokes, and in the midst of the smoke your other guests arrive. every one begins to cough and blink. they are very polite, but the smoke, growing each moment denser, is not to be overlooked. mrs. toplofty takes matters in her own hands and makes mr. doe and your husband carry the logs, smoke and all, and throw them into the yard. the room still thick with smoke is now cheerlessly fireless, and another factor beginning to distress you is that, although everyone has arrived, there is no sign of dinner. you wait, at first merely eager to get out of the smoke-filled drawing-room. gradually you are becoming nervous--what can have happened? the dining-room door might be that of a tomb for all the evidence of life behind it. you become really alarmed. is dinner never going to be served? everyone's eyes are red from the smoke, and conversation is getting weaker and weaker. mrs. toplofty--evidently despairing--sits down. mrs. worldly also sits, both hold their eyes shut and say nothing. at last the dining-room door opens, and sigrid instead of bowing slightly and saying in a low tone of voice, "dinner is served," stands stiff as a block of wood, and fairly shouts: "dinner's all ready!" you hope no one heard her, but you know very well that nothing escaped any one of those present. and between the smoke and the delay and your waitress' manners, you are already thoroughly mortified by the time you reach the table. but you hope that at least the dinner will be good. for the first time you are assailed with doubt on that score. and again you wait, but the oyster course is all right. and then comes the soup. you don't have to taste it to see that it is wrong. it looks not at all as "clear" soup should! its color, instead of being glass-clear amber, is greasy-looking brown. you taste it, fearing the worst, and the worst is realized. it tastes like dish-water--and is barely tepid. you look around the table; mr. kindhart alone is trying to eat it. in removing the plates, delia, the assistant, takes them up by piling one on top of the other, clashing them together as she does so. you can feel mrs. worldly looking with almost hypnotized fascination--as her attention might be drawn to a street accident against her will. then there is a wait. you wait and wait, and looking in front of you, you notice the bare tablecloth without a plate. you know instantly that the service is wrong, but you find yourself puzzled to know how it should have been done. finally sigrid comes in with a whole dozen plates stacked in a pile, which she proceeds to deal around the table. you at least know that to try to interfere would only make matters worse. you hold your own cold fingers in your lap knowing that you must sit there, and that you can do nothing. the fish which was to have been a _mousse_ with hollandaise sauce, is a huge mound, much too big for the platter, with a narrow gutter of water around the edge and the center dabbed over with a curdled yellow mess. you realize that not only is the food itself awful, but that the quantity is too great for one dish. you don't know what to do next; you know there is no use in apologizing, there is no way of dropping through the floor, or waking yourself up. you have collected the smartest and the most critical people around your table to put them to torture such as they will never forget. never! you have to bite your lips to keep from crying. whatever possessed you to ask these people to your horrible house? mr. kindhart, sitting next to you, says gently, "cheer up, little girl, it doesn't really matter!" and then you know to the full how terrible the situation is. the meal is endless; each course is equally unappetizing to look at, and abominably served. you notice that none of your guests eat anything. they can't. you leave the table literally sick, but realizing fully that the giving of a dinner is not as easy as you thought. and in the drawing-room, which is now fireless and freezing, but at least smokeless, you start to apologize and burst into tears! as you are very young, and those present are all really fond of you, they try to be comforting, but you know that it will be years (if ever) before any of them will be willing to risk an evening in your house again. you also know that without malice, but in truth and frankness, they will tell everyone: "whatever you do, don't dine with the newweds unless you eat your dinner before you go, and wear black glasses so no sight can offend you." when they have all gone, you drag yourself miserably up-stairs, feeling that you never want to look in that drawing-room or dining-room again. your husband, remembering the trenches, tries to tell you it was not so bad! but you _know!_ you lie awake planning to let the house, and to discharge each one of your awful household the next morning, and then you realize that the fault is not a bit more theirs than yours. if you had tried the chimney first, and learned its peculiarities; if you yourself had known every detail of cooking and service, of course you would not have attempted to give the dinner in the first place; not at least until, through giving little dinners, the technique of your household had become good enough to give a big one. on the other hand, supposing that you had had a very experienced cook and waitress; dinner would, of course, not have been bungled, but it would have lacked something, somewhere, if you added nothing of your own personality to its perfection. it is almost safe to make the statement that no dinner is ever really well done unless the hostess herself knows every smallest detail thoroughly. mrs. worldly pays seemingly no attention, but nothing escapes her. she can walk through a room without appearing to look either to the right or left, yet if the slightest detail is amiss, an ornament out of place, or there is one dull button on a footman's livery, her house telephone is rung at once! having generalized by drawing two pictures, it is now time to take up the specific details to be considered in giving a dinner. =detailed directions for dinner giving= the requisites at every dinner, whether a great one of covers, or a little one of six, are as follows: guests. people who are congenial to one another. this is of first importance. food. a suitable menu perfectly prepared and dished. (hot food to be _hot_, and cold, _cold_.) table furnishing. faultlessly laundered linen, brilliantly polished silver, and all other table accessories suitable to the occasion and surroundings. service. expert dining-room servants and enough of them. drawing-room. adequate in size to number of guests and inviting in arrangement. a cordial and hospitable host. a hostess of charm. charm says everything--tact, sympathy, poise and perfect manners--always. and though for all dinners these requisites are much the same, the necessity for perfection increases in proportion to the formality of the occasion. =taste in selection of people= the proper selection of guests is the first essential in all entertaining, and the hostess who has a talent for assembling the right people has a great asset. taste in house furnishings or in clothes or in selecting a cook, is as nothing compared to taste in people! some people have this "sense"--others haven't. the first are the great hosts and hostesses; the others are the mediocre or the failures. it is usually a mistake to invite great talkers together. brilliant men and women who love to talk want hearers, not rivals. very silent people should be sandwiched between good talkers, or at least voluble talkers. silly people should never be put anywhere near learned ones, nor the dull near the clever, unless the dull one is a young and pretty woman with a talent for listening, and the clever, a man with an admiration for beauty, and a love for talking. most people think two brilliant people should be put together. often they should, but with discretion. if both are voluble or nervous or "temperamental," you may create a situation like putting two operatic sopranos in the same part and expecting them to sing together. the endeavor of a hostess, when seating her table, is to put those together who are likely to be interesting to each other. professor bugge might bore _you_ to tears, but mrs. entomoid would probably delight in him; just as mr. stocksan bonds and mrs. rich would probably have interests in common. making a dinner list is a little like making a christmas list. you put down what _they_ will (you hope) like, not what you like. those who are placed between congenial neighbors remember your dinner as delightful--even though both food and service were mediocre; but ask people out of their own groups and seat them next to their pet aversions, and wild horses could not drag them to your house again! =how a dinner list is kept= nearly every hostess keeps a dinner list--apart from her general visiting list--of people with whom she is accustomed to dine, or to invite to dinner or other small entertainments. but the prominent hostess, if she has grown daughters and continually gives parties of all sorts and sizes and ages, usually keeps her list in a more complete and "ready reference" order. mrs. gilding, for instance, has guest lists separately indexed. under the general heading "dinners," she has older married, younger married, girls, men. her luncheon list is taken from her dinner list. "bridge" includes especially good players of all ages; "dances," young married people, young girls, and dancing men. then she has a cross-index list of "important persons," meaning those of real distinction who are always the foundation of all good society; "amusing," usually people of talent--invaluable for house parties; and "new people," including many varieties and unassorted. mrs. gilding exchanges invitations with a number of these because they are interesting or amusing, or because their parties are diverting and dazzling. and mrs. gilding herself, being typical of new york's cavalier element rather than its puritan strain, personally prefers diversion to edification. needless to say, "boston's best," being ninety-eight per cent. puritan, has no "new" list. besides her list of "new people," she has a short "frivolous" list of other cavaliers like herself, and a "neutral" list, which is the most valuable of all because it comprises those who "go" with everyone. besides her own lists she has a "pantry" list, a list that is actually made out for the benefit of the butler, so that on occasions he can invite guests to "fill in." the "pantry" list comprises only intimate friends who belong on the "neutral" list and fit in everywhere; young girls and young and older single men. allowing the butler to invite guests at his own discretion is not quite as casual as it sounds. it is very often an unavoidable expedient. for instance, at four o'clock in the afternoon, mr. blank telephones that he cannot come to dinner that same evening. mrs. gilding is out; to wait until she returns will make it too late to fill the place. her butler who has been with her for years knows quite as well as mrs. gilding herself exactly which people belong in the same group. the dinner cards being already in his possession, he can see not only who is expected for dinner but the two ladies between whom mr. blank has been placed, and he thereupon selects some one on the "pantry" list who is suitable for mr. blank's place at the table, and telephones the invitation. perhaps he calls up a dozen before he finds one disengaged. when mrs. gilding returns he says, "mr. blank telephoned he would not be able to come for dinner as he was called to washington. mr. bachelor will be happy to come in his place." married people are seldom on this list, because the butler need not undertake to fill any but an odd place--that of a gentleman particularly. otherwise two ladies would be seated together. =asking someone to fill a place= since no one but a fairly intimate friend is ever asked to fill a place, this invitation is always telephoned. a very young man is asked by the butler if he will dine with mrs. gilding that evening, and very likely no explanation is made; but if the person to be invited is a lady or an older gentleman (except on such occasions as noted above), the hostess herself telephones: "can you do me a great favor and fill a place at dinner to-night?" the one who receives this invitation is rather bound by the rules of good manners to accept if possible. =importance of dinner engagements= dinner invitations must be answered immediately; engraved or written ones by return post, or those which were telephoned, by telephone and at once! also, nothing but serious illness or death or an utterly unavoidable accident can excuse the breaking of a dinner engagement. to accept a dinner at mrs. nobody's and then break the obligation upon being invited to dine with the worldlys, proclaims anyone capable of such rudeness an unmitigated snob, whom mrs. worldly would be the first to cut from her visiting list if she knew of it. the rule is: "don't accept an invitation if you don't care about it." having declined the nobody invitation in the first place, you are then free to accept mrs. worldly's, or to stay at home. there are times, however, when engagements between very close friends or members of the family may perhaps be broken, but only if made with the special stipulation: "come to dinner with us alone thursday if nothing better turns up!" and the other answers, "i'd love to--and you let me know too, if you want to do anything else." meanwhile if one of them is invited to something unusually tempting, there is no rudeness in telephoning her friend, "lucy has asked us to hear galli-curci on thursday!" and the other says, "go, by all means! we can dine tuesday next week if you like, or come sunday for supper." this privilege of intimacy can, however, be abused. an engagement, even with a member of one's family, ought never to be broken twice within a brief period, or it becomes apparent that the other's presence is more a fill-in of idle time than a longed-for pleasure. =the menu= it may be due to the war period, which accustomed everyone to going with very little meat and to marked reduction in all food, or it may be, of course, merely vanity that is causing even grandparents to aspire to svelte figures, but whatever the cause, people are putting much less food on their tables than formerly. the very rich, living in the biggest houses with the most imposing array of servants, sit down to three, or at most four, courses when alone, or when intimate friends who are known to have moderate appetites, are dining with them. under no circumstances would a private dinner, no matter how formal, consist of more than: . hors d'oeuvre . soup . fish . entrée . roast . salad . dessert . coffee the menu for an informal dinner would leave out the entrée, and possibly either the hors d'oeuvre or the soup. as a matter of fact, the marked shortening of the menu is in informal dinners and at the home table of the well-to-do. formal dinners have been as short as the above schedule for twenty-five years. a dinner interlarded with a row of extra entrées, roman punch, and hot dessert is unknown except at a public dinner, or in the dining-room of a parvenu. about thirty-five years ago such dinners are said to have been in fashion! =the balanced menu= one should always try to choose well-balanced dishes; an especially rich dish balanced by a simple one. timbale with a very rich sauce of cream and pâté de foie gras might perhaps be followed by french chops, broiled chicken or some other light, plain meat. an entrée of about four broiled mushrooms on a small round of toast should be followed by boned capon or saddle of mutton or spring lamb. it is equally bad to give your guests very peculiar food unless as an extra dish. some people love highly flavored spanish or indian dishes, but they are not appropriate for a formal dinner. at an informal dinner an indian curry or spanish enchillada for one dish is delicious for those who like it, and if you have another substantial dish such as a plain roast which practically everyone is able to eat, those who don't like indian food can make their dinner of the other course. it is the same way with the italian dishes. one hating garlic and onions would be very wretched if onions were put in each and every course, and liberally. with indian curry, a fatally bad selection would be a very peppery soup, such as croute au pot filled with pepper, and fish with green peppers, and then the curry, and then something casserole filled again with peppers and onions and other throat-searing ingredients, finishing with an endive salad. yet more than one hostess has done exactly this. or equally bad is a dinner of flavorless white sauces from beginning to end; a creamed soup, boiled fish with white sauce, then vol au vent of creamed sweetbreads, followed by breast of chicken and mashed potatoes and cauliflower, palm root salad, vanilla ice cream and lady-cake. each thing is good in itself but dreadful in the monotony of its combination. another thing: although a dinner should not be long, neither should it consist of samples, especially if set before men who are hungry! the following menu might seem at first glance a good dinner, but it is one from which the average man would go home and forage ravenously in the ice box: a canapé (good, but merely an appetizer) clear soup (a dinner party helping, and no substance) smelts (one apiece) individual croutards of sweetbreads (holding about a dessert-spoonful) broiled squab, small potato croquette, and string beans lettuce salad, with about one small cracker apiece ice cream the only thing that had any sustaining quality, barring the potato which was not more than a mouthful, was the last, and very few men care to make their dinner of ice cream. if instead of squab there had been filet of beef cut in generous slices, and the potato croquettes had been more numerous, it would have been adequate. or if there had been a thick cream soup, and a fish with more substance--such as salmon or shad, or a baked thick fish of which he could have had a generous helping--the squab would have been adequate also. but many women order trimmings rather than food; men usually like food. =the dinner table of yesterday= all of us old enough to remember the beginning of this century can bring to mind the typical (and most fashionable) dinner table of that time. occasionally it was oblong or rectangular, but its favorite shape was round, and a thick white damask cloth hung to the floor on all sides. often as not there was a large lace centerpiece, and in the middle of it was a floral mound of roses (like a funeral piece, exactly), usually red. the four compotiers were much scrolled and embossed, and the four candlesticks, also scrolled, but not to match, had shades of perforated silver over red silk linings, like those in restaurants to-day. and there was a gas droplight thickly petticoated with fringed red silk. the plates were always heavily "jewelled" and hand painted, and enough forks and knives and spoons were arrayed at each "place" for a dozen courses. the glasses numbered at least six, and the entire table was laden with little dishes--and spoons! there were olives, radishes, celery and salted nuts in glass dishes; and about ten kinds of sugar-plums in ten different styles of ornate and bumpy silver dishes; and wherever a small space of tablecloth showed through, it was filled with either a big "apostle" spoon or little dutch ones criss-crossed. bread was always rolled in the napkin (and usually fell on the floor) and the oysters were occasionally found already placed on the table when the guests came in to dinner! loading a table to the utmost of its capacity with useless implements which only in rarest instances had the least value, would seem to prove that quantity without quality must have been thought evidence of elegance and generous hospitality! and the astounding part of the bad taste epidemic was that few if any escaped. even those who had inherited colonial silver and glass and china of consummate beauty, sent it dust-gathering to the attic and cluttered their tables with stuffy and spurious lumber. but to-day the classic has come into its own again! as though recovering from an illness, good taste is again demanding severe beauty of form and line, and banishing everything that is useless or superfluous. during the last twenty years most of us have sent an army of lumpy dishes to the melting-pot, and junky ornaments to the ash heap along with plush table covers, upholstered mantel-boards and fern dishes! to-day we are going almost to the extreme of bareness, and putting nothing on our tables not actually needed for use. =the dining-room= it is scarcely necessary to point out that the bigger and more ambitious the house, the more perfect its appointments must be. if your house has a great georgian dining-room, the table should be set with georgian or an _earlier_ period english silver. furthermore, in a "great" dining-room, all the silver should be real! "real" meaning nothing so trifling as "sterling," but genuine and important "period" pieces made by eighteenth century silversmiths, such as de lamerie or crespell or buck or robertson, or perhaps one of their predecessors. or if, like mrs. oldname, you live in an old colonial house, you are perhaps also lucky enough to have inherited some genuine american pieces made by daniel rogers or paul revere! or if you are an ardent admirer of early italian architecture and have built yourself a fifteenth century stone-floored and frescoed or tapestry-hung dining room, you must set your long refectory table with a "runner" of old hand-linen and altar embroidery, or perhaps thirteenth century damask and great cisterns or ewers and beakers in high-relief silver and gold; or in callazzioli or majolica, with great bowls of fruit and church candlesticks of gilt, and even follow as far as is practicable the crude table implements of that time. it need not be pointed out that twentieth century appurtenances in a thirteenth or fifteenth century room are anachronisms. but because the dining-table in the replica of a palace (whether english, italian, spanish or french) may be equipped with great "standing cups" and candelabra so heavy a man can scarcely lift one, it does not follow that all the rest of us who live in medium or small houses, should attempt anything of the sort. nothing could be more out of proportion--and therefore in worse taste. nor is it necessary, in order to have a table that is inviting, to set it with any of the completely exquisite things which all people of taste long for, but which are possessed (in quantity at least) only through wealth, inheritance, or "collector's luck." =a pleasing dining-room at limited cost= enchanting dining-rooms and tables have been achieved with an outlay amounting to comparatively nothing. there is a dining-room in a certain small new york house that is quite as inviting as it is lacking in expensiveness. its walls are rough-plastered "french gray." its table is an ordinary drop-leaf kitchen one painted a light green that is almost gray; the chairs are wooden ones, somewhat on the windsor variety, but made of pine and painted like the table, and the side tables or consoles are made of a cheap round pine table which has been sawed in half, painted gray-green, and the legless sides fastened to the walls. the glass curtains are point d'esprit net with a deep flounce at the bottom and outside curtains are (expensive) watermelon pink changeable taffeta. there is a gilt mirror over a cream (absolutely plain) mantel and over each console a picture of a conventional bouquet of flowers in a flat frame the color of the furniture, with the watermelon color of the curtains predominating in a neutral tint background. the table is set with a rather coarse cream-colored linen drawn-work centerpiece (a tea cloth actually) big enough to cover all but three inches of table edge. in the middle of the table is a glass bowl with a wide turn-over rim, holding deep pink flowers (roses or tulips) standing upright in glass flower holders as though growing. in midwinter, when real flowers are too expensive, porcelain ones take their place--unless there is a lunch or dinner party. the compotiers are glass urns and the only pieces of silver used are two tall sheffield candelabra at night, without shades, the salts and peppers and the necessary spoons and forks. the knives are "ivory" handled. =setting the table= everything on the table must be geometrically spaced; the centerpiece in the actual center, the "places" at equal distances, and all utensils balanced; beyond this one rule you may set your table as you choose. if the tablecloth is of white damask, which for dinner is always good style, a "felt" must be put under it. (to say that it must be smooth and white, in other words perfectly laundered, is as beside the mark as to say that faces and hands should be clean!) if the tablecloth has lace insertions, it must on no account be put over satin or over a color. in a very "important" dining-room and on a very large table, a cloth of plain and finest quality damask with no trimming other than a monogram (or crest) embroidered on either side, is in better taste than one of linen with elaborations of lace and embroidery. damask is the old-fashioned but essentially conservative (and safely best style) tablecloth, especially, suitable in a high-ceilinged room that is either english, french, or of no special period, in decoration. lace tablecloths are better suited to an italian room--especially if the table is a refectory one. handkerchief linen tablecloths embroidered and lace-inserted are also, strangely enough, suited to all quaint, low-ceilinged, old-fashioned but beautifully appointed rooms; the reason being that the lace cloth is put over a bare table. the lace cloth must also go over a refectory table without felt or other lining. very high-studded rooms (unless italian) on the other hand, seem to need the thickness of damask. to be sure, one does see in certain houses--at the gildings' for instance--an elaborate lace and embroidery tablecloth put on top of a plain one which in turn goes over a felt, but this combination is always somewhat overpowering, whereas lace over a bare table is light and fragile. another thing--very ornate, large, and arabesqued designs, no matter how marvellous as examples of workmanship, inevitably produce a vulgar effect. all needlework, whether to be used on the table or on a bed, must, in a beautifully finished house, be fine rather than striking. coarse linen, coarse embroideries, all sorts of russian drawn-work, italian needlework or mosaic (but avoiding big scrolled patterns), are in perfect keeping--and therefore in good taste--in a cottage, a bungalow or a house whose furnishings are not too fine. but whatever type of cloth is used, the middle crease must be put on so that it is an absolutely straight and unwavering line down the exact center from head to foot. if it is an embroidered one, be sure the embroidery is "right side out." next goes the centerpiece which is always the chief ornament. usually this is an arrangement of flowers in either a bowl or a vase, but it can be any one of an almost unlimited variety of things; flowers or fruit in any arrangement that taste and ingenuity can devise; or an ornament in silver that needs no flowers, such as a covered cup; or an epergne, which, however, necessitates the use of fruit, flowers or candy. mrs. wellborn, for instance, whose heirlooms are better than her income, rarely uses flowers, but has a wonderful old centerpiece that is ornament enough in itself. the foundation is a mirror representing a lake, surrounded by silver rocks and grass. at one side, jutting into the lake, is a knoll with a group of trees sheltering a stag and doe. the ornament is entirely of silver, almost twenty inches high, and about twenty inches in diameter across the "lake." the normans have a full-rigged silver ship in the center of their table and at either end rather tall lanterns, venetian really, but rather appropriate to the ship; and the salt cellars are very tall ones (about ten inches high), of sea shells supported on the backs of dolphins. however, to go back to table setting: a cloth laid straight; then a centerpiece put in the middle; then four candlesticks at the four corners, about half-way between the center and the edge of the table, or two candelabra at either end halfway between the places of the host and hostess and the centerpiece. candles are used with or without shades. fashion at the moment, says "without," which means that, in order to bring the flame well above people's eyes, candlesticks or candelabra must be high and the candles as long as the proportion can stand. longer candles can be put in massive candlesticks than in fragile ones. but whether shaded or not, there are candles on all dinner tables always! the center droplight has gone out entirely. electroliers in candlesticks were never good style, and kerosene lamps in candlesticks--horrible! fashion says, "candles! preferably without shades, but shades if you insist, and few or many--but candles!" next comes the setting of the places. (if it is an extension table, leaves have, of course, been put in; or if it is stationary, guests have been invited according to its size.) the distance between places at the table must never be so short that guests have no elbow room, and that the servants can not pass the dishes properly; when the dining-room chairs are very high backed and are placed so close as to be almost touching, it is impossible for them not to risk spilling something over some one. on the other hand, to place people a yard or more apart so that conversation has to be shouted into the din made by everyone else's shouting, is equally trying. about two feet from plate center to plate center is ideal. if the chairs have narrow and low backs, people can sit much closer together, especially at a small round table, the curve of which leaves a spreading wedge of space between the chairs at the back even if the seats touch at the front corners. but on the long straight sides of a rectangular table in a very large--and impressive--dining-room there should be at least a foot of space between the chairs. =setting the places= the necessary number of plates, with the pattern or initials right side up, are first put around the table at equal distances (spaced with a tape measure if the butler or waitress has not an accurate eye). then on the left of each plate, handle towards the edge of the table, and prongs up, is put the salad fork, the meat fork is put next, and then the fish fork. the salad fork, which will usually be the third used, is thus laid nearest to the plate. if there is an entrée, the fork for this course is placed between the fish fork and that for the roast and the salad fork is left to be brought in later. on the right of the plate, and nearest to it, is put the steel meat knife, then the silver fish knife, the edge of each toward the plate. then the soup spoon and then the oyster fork or grape fruit spoon. additional forks and knives are put on the table during dinner. in putting on the glasses, the water goblet is at the top and to the right of the knives, and the wine glasses are either grouped to the right of the goblet, or in a straight line slanting down from the goblet obliquely towards the right. (butter plates are never put on a dinner table.) a dinner napkin folded square and flat is laid on each "place" plate; very fancy foldings are not in good taste, but if the napkin is very large, the sides are folded in so as to make a flattened roll a third the width of its height. (bread should _not_ be put in the napkin--not nowadays.) the place cards are usually put above the plate on the tablecloth, but some people put them on top of the napkin because they are more easily read. when the places have been set, four silver dishes (or more on a very big table), either bowl or basket or paten shaped, are put at the four corners, between the candlesticks (or candelabra) and the centerpiece; or wherever there are four equally spaced vacancies on the table. these dishes, or compotiers, hold candy or fruit, chosen less for taste than for decorative appearance. on a very large table the four compotiers are filled with candy, and two or four larger silver dishes or baskets are filled with fruit and put on alternately with the candy dishes. flowers are also often put in two or four smaller vases, in addition to a larger and dominating one in the center. peppers and salts should be put at every other place. for a dinner of twelve there should be six salt cellars at least, if not six pepper pots. olives and radishes are served from the side table, but salted nuts are often put on the dinner table either in two big silver dishes, or in small individual ones. =have silver that shines or none= lots of people who would not dream of using a wrinkled tablecloth or chipped glass or china, seem perfectly blind to dirty silver--silver that is washed clean of food of course, but so dull that it looks like jaundiced pewter. don't put any silver on your table if you can't have it cleaned. infinitely rather have every ornament of glass or china--and if knives and forks have crevices in the design of their handles that are hard to clean, buy plain plated ones, or use tin! anything is better than yellow-faced dirty-finger-nailed silver. the first thing to ask in engaging a waitress is, "can you clean silver?" if she can't, she would better be something else. of course no waitress and no single-handed butler can keep silver the way it is kept in such houses as the worldlys', nor is such perfection expected. the silver polishing of perfection in huge houses is done by such an expert that no one can tell whether a fork has that moment been sent from the silversmiths or not. it is not merely polished until it is bright, but burnished so that it is new! every piece of silver in certain of the great establishments, or in smaller ones that are run like a great one, is never picked up by a servant except with a rouged chamois. no piece of silver is ever allowed by the slightest chance to touch another piece. every piece is washed separately. the footman who gathers two or three forks in a bunch will never do it a second time, and keep his place. if the ring of a guest should happen to scratch a knife handle or a fork, the silver-polisher may have to spend an entire day using his thumb or a silver buffer, and rub and rub until no vestige of a scratch remains. perfection such as this is attainable only in a great house where servants are specialists of super-efficiency; but in every perfectly run house, where service is not too limited, every piece of silver that is put on the table, at every meal, is handled with a rouged chamois and given a quick wipe-off as it is laid on the dining table. no silver should ever be picked up in the fingers as that always leaves a mark. and the way "moderate" households, which are nevertheless perfectly run for their size and type, have burnished silver, is by using not more than they can have cleaned. in view of the present high cost of living (including wages) and the consequent difficulty, with a reduced number of servants, of keeping a great quantity of silver brilliant, even the most fashionable people are more and more using only what is essential, and in occasional instances, are taking to china! people who are lucky enough to have well-stored attics these days are bringing treasures out of them. but services of swansea or lowestoft or spode, while easily cleaned, are equally easily broken, so that genuine eighteenth century pieces are more apt to see a cabinet than a dinner table. but the modern manufacturers are making enchanting "sets" that are replicas of the old. these tea sets with cups and saucers to match and with a silver kettle and tray, are seen almost as often as silver services in simple houses in the country, as well as in the small apartment in town. =don'ts in table setting!= don't put ribbon trimmings on your table. satin bands and bows have no more place on a lady's table than have chop-house appurtenances. pickle jars, catsup bottles, toothpicks and crackers are not private-house table ornaments. crackers are passed with oyster stew and with salad, and any one who wants "relishes" can have them in his own house (though they insult the cook!). at all events, pickles and tomato sauces and other cold meat condiments are never presented at table in a bottle, but are put in glass dishes with small serving spoons. nothing is ever served from the jar or bottle it comes in except certain kinds of cheese, bar-le-duc preserves (only sometimes) and wines. pickles, jellies, jams, olives, are all put into small glass dishes. saucers for vegetables are contrary to all etiquette. the only extra plates ever permitted are the bread and butter plates which are put on at breakfast and lunch and supper above and to the left of the forks, but _never_ at dinner. the crescent-shaped salad plate, made to fit at the side of the place plate, is seen rarely in fashionable houses. when two plates are made necessary by the serving of game or broiled chicken or squab, for which the plate should be very hot, at the same time as the salad which is cold, the crescent-shaped plate is convenient in that it takes little room. a correct and very good serving dish for a family of two, is the vegetable dish that has a partition dividing it into two or even three divisions, so that a small quantity of two or three vegetables can be passed at the same time. napkin rings are unknown in fashionable houses outside of the nursery. but in large families where it is impossible to manage such a wash as three clean napkins a day entail, napkin rings are probably necessary. in most moderately run houses, a napkin that is unrumpled and spotless after a meal, is put aside and used again for breakfast; but to be given a napkin that is not perfectly clean is a horrid thought. perhaps though, the necessity for napkin rings results in the achievement of the immaculate napkin--which is quite a nice thought. =correct service of dinner= whether there are two at table or two hundred, plates are changed and courses presented in precisely the same manner. for faultless service, if there are many "accompanied" dishes, two servants are necessary to wait on as few as two persons. but two can also efficiently serve eight; or with unaccompanied dishes an expert servant can manage eight alone, and with one assistant, he can perfectly manage twelve. in old-fashioned times people apparently did not mind waiting tranquilly through courses and between courses, even though meat grew cold long before the last of many vegetables was passed, and they waited endlessly while a slow talker and eater finished his topic and his food. but people of to-day do not like to wait an unnecessary second. the moment fish is passed them, they expect the cucumbers or sauce, or whatever should go with the fish, to follow immediately. and when the first servant hands the meat course, they consider that they should not be expected to wait a moment for a second servant to hand the gravy or jelly or whatever goes with the meat. no service is good in this day unless swift--and, of course, soundless. a late leader of newport society who had a world-wide reputation for the brilliancy of her entertainments, had an equally well-known reputation for rapidly served dinners. "twenty minutes is quite long enough to sit at table--ever!" is what she used to say, and what her household had to live up to. she had a footman to about every two guests and any one dining with her had to cling to the edge of his plate or it would be whisked away! one who looked aside or "let go" for a second found his plate gone! that was extreme; but, even so, better than a snail-paced dinner! =the dinner hour= in america the dinner hour is not a fixture, since it varies in various sections of the country. the ordinary new york hour when "giving a dinner" is eight o'clock, half past eight in newport. in new york, when dining and going to the opera, one is usually asked for seven-fifteen, and for seven-thirty before going to a play. otherwise only "quiet" people dine before eight. but invitations should, of course, be issued for whatever hour is customary in the place where the dinner is given. =the butler in the dining-room= when the dinner guests enter the dining-room, it is customary for the butler to hold out the chair of the mistress of the house. this always seems a discourtesy to the guests. and an occasional hostess insists on having the chair of the guest of honor held by the butler instead of her own. if there are footmen enough, the chair of each lady is held for her; otherwise the gentleman who takes her in to dinner helps her to be seated. ordinarily where there are two servants, the head one holds the chair of the hostess and the second, the chair on the right of the host. the hostess always seats herself as quickly as possible so that the butler may be free to assist a guest to draw her chair up to the table. in a big house the butler always stands throughout a meal back of the hostess' chair, except when giving one of the men under him a direction, or when pouring wine. he is not supposed to leave the dining-room himself or ever to handle a dish. in a smaller house where he has no assistant, he naturally does everything himself; when he has a second man or parlor-maid, he passes the principal dishes and the assistant follows with the accompanying dishes or vegetables. so-called "russian" service is the only one known in new york which merely means that nothing to eat is ever put on the table except ornamental dishes of fruit and candy. the meat is carved in the kitchen or pantry, vegetables are passed and returned to the side table. only at breakfast or possibly at supper are dishes of food put on the table. =the ever-present plate= from the setting of the table until it is cleared for dessert, a plate must remain at every cover. under the first two courses there are always two plates. the plate on which oysters or hors d'oeuvres are served is put on top of the place plate. at the end of the course the used plate is removed, leaving the place plate. the soup plate is also put on top of this same plate. but when the soup plate is removed, the underneath plate is removed with it, and a hot plate immediately exchanged for the two taken away. the place plate merely becomes a hot fish plate, but it is there just the same. _the exchange plate_ if the first course had been a canapé or any cold dish that was offered in bulk instead of being brought on separate plates, it would have been eaten on the place plate, and an exchange plate would have been necessary before the soup could be served. that is, a clean plate would have been exchanged for the used one, and the soup plate then put on top of that. the reason for it is that a plate with food on it can never be exchanged for a plate that has had food on it; a clean one must come between. if an entrée served on individual plates follows the fish, clean plates are first exchanged for the used ones until the whole table is set with clean plates. then the entrée is put at each place in exchange for the clean plate. although dishes are always presented at the left of the person served, plates are removed and replaced at the right. glasses are poured and additional knives placed at the right, but forks are put on as needed from the left. _may the plates for two persons be brought in together?_ the only plates that can possibly be brought into the dining-room one in each hand are for the hors d'oeuvres, soup and dessert. the first two plates are placed on others which have not been removed, and the dessert plates need merely be put down on the tablecloth. but the plates of every other course have to be exchanged and therefore each individual service requires two hands. soup plates, two at a time, would better not be attempted by any but the expert and sure-handed, as it is in placing one plate, while holding the other aloft that the mishap of "soup poured down some one's back" occurs! if only one plate of soup is brought in at a time, that accident at least cannot happen. in the same way the spoon and fork on the dessert plate can easily fall off, unless it is held level. "two plates at a time" therefore is not a question of etiquette, but of the servant's skill. _plate removed when fork is laid down_ once upon a time it was actually considered impolite to remove a single plate until the last guest at the table had finished eating! in other days people evidently did not mind looking at their own dirty plates indefinitely, nor could they have minded sitting for hours at table. good service to-day requires the removal of each plate as soon as the fork is laid upon it; so that by the time the last fork is put down, the entire table is set with clean plates and is ready for the next course. =double service and the order of table precedence= at every well-ordered dinner, there should be a double service for ten or twelve persons; that is, no hot dish should, if avoidable, be presented to more than six, or nine at the outside. at a dinner of twelve, for instance, two dishes each holding six portions, are garnished exactly alike and presented at opposite ends of the table. one to the lady on the right of the host, and the other to the lady at the opposite end of the table. the services continue around to the right, but occasional butlers direct that after serving the "lady of honor" on the right of the host, the host is skipped and the dish presented to the lady on his left, after which the dish continues around the table to the left, to ladies and gentlemen as they come. in this event the second service starts opposite the lady of honor and also skips the first gentleman, after which it goes around the table to the left, skips the lady of honor and ends with the host. the first service when it reaches the other end of the table skips the lady who was first served and ends with the gentleman who was skipped. it is perhaps more polite to the ladies to give them preference, but it is complicated, and leaves another gentleman as well as the host, sitting between two ladies who are eating while he is apparently forgotten. the object (which is to prevent the lady who is second in precedence from being served last) can be accomplished by beginning the first service from the lady on the right of the host and continuing on the right places; the second service begins with the lady on the left of the host and continues on the left five places, and then comes back to the host. the best way of all, perhaps, is to vary the "honor" by serving the entrée and salad courses first to the lady on the left instead of to the lady on the right and continue the service of these two courses to the left. a dinner of eighteen has sometimes two services, but if _very_ perfect, three. where there are three services they start with the lady of honor and the sixth from her on either side and continue to the right. =filling glasses= as soon as the guests are seated and the first course put in front of them, the butler goes from guest to guest on the right hand side of each, and asks "apollinaris or plain water!" and fills the goblet accordingly. in the same way he asks later before pouring wine: "cider, sir?" "grape fruit cup, madam?" or in a house which has the remains of a cellar, "champagne?" or "do you care for whiskey and soda, sir?" but the temperature and service of wines which used to be an essential detail of every dinner have now no place at all. whether people will offer frappéd cider or some other iced drink in the middle of dinner, and a warmed something else to take the place of claret with the fish, remains to be seen. a water glass standing alone at each place makes such a meager and untrimmed looking table that most people put on at least two wine glasses, sherry and champagne, or claret and sherry, and pour something pinkish or yellowish into them. a rather popular drink at present is an equal mixture of white grape-juice and ginger ale with mint leaves and much ice. those few who still have cellars, serve wines exactly as they used to, white wine, claret, sherry and burgundy warm, champagne ice cold; and after dinner, green mint poured over crushed ice in little glasses, and other liqueurs of room temperature. whiskey is always poured at the table over ice in a tall tumbler, each gentleman "saying when" by putting his hand out. the glass is then filled with soda or apollinaris. as soon as soup is served the parlor-maid or a footman passes a dish or a basket of dinner rolls. if rolls are not available, bread cut in about two-inch-thick slices, is cut cross-ways again in three. an old-fashioned silver cake basket makes a perfect modern bread-basket. or a small wicker basket that is shallow and inconspicuous will do. a guest helps himself with his fingers and lays the roll or bread on the tablecloth, always. no bread plates are ever on a table where there is no butter, and no butter is ever served at a dinner. whenever there is no bread left at any one's place at table, more should be passed. the glasses should also be kept filled. =presenting dishes= dishes are presented held flat on the palm of the servant's right hand; every hot one must have a napkin placed as a pad under it. an especially heavy meat platter can be steadied if necessary by holding the edge of the platter with the left hand, the fingers protected from being burned by a second folded napkin. each dish is supplied with whatever implements are needed for helping it; a serving spoon (somewhat larger than an ordinary tablespoon) is put on all dishes and a fork of large size is added for fish, meat, salad and any vegetables or other dishes that are hard to help. string beans, braised celery, spinach en branche, etc., need a fork and spoon. asparagus has various special lifters and tongs, but most people use the ordinary spoon and fork, putting the spoon underneath and the fork, prongs down, to hold the stalks on the spoon while being removed to the plate. corn on the cob is taken with the fingers, but is _never_ served at a dinner party. a galantine or mousse, as well as peas, mashed potatoes, rice, etc., are offered with a spoon only. =the serving table= the serving table is an ordinary table placed in the corner of the dining-room near the door to the pantry, and behind a screen, so that it may not be seen by the guests at table. in a small dining-room where space is limited, a set of shelves like a single bookcase is useful. the serving table is a halfway station between the dinner table and the pantry. it holds stacks of cold plates, extra forks and knives, and the finger bowls and dessert plates. the latter are sometimes put out on the sideboard, if the serving table is small or too crowded. at little informal dinners all dishes of food after being passed are left on the serving table in case they are called upon for a second helping. but at formal dinners, dishes are never passed twice, and are therefore taken direct to the pantry after being passed. =clearing table for dessert= at dinner always, whether at a formal one, or whether a member of the family is alone, the salad plates, or the plates of whatever course precedes dessert, are removed, leaving the table plateless. the salt cellars and pepper pots are taken off on the serving tray (without being put on any napkin or doily, as used to be the custom), and the crumbs are brushed off each place at table with a folded napkin onto a tray held under the table edge. a silver crumb scraper is still seen occasionally when the tablecloth is plain, but its hard edge is not suitable for embroidery and lace, and ruinous to a bare table, so that a napkin folded to about the size and thickness of an iron-holder is the crumb-scraper of to-day. =dessert= the captious say "dessert means the fruit and candy which come after the ices." "ices" is a misleading word too, because suggestive of the individual "ices" which flourished at private dinners in the victorian age, and still survive at public dinners, suppers at balls, and at wedding breakfasts, but which are seen at not more than one private dinner in a thousand--if that. in the present world of fashion the "dessert" is ice-cream, served in one mold; not ices (a lot of little frozen images). and the refusal to call the "sweets" at the end of the dinner, which certainly include ice cream and cake, "dessert," is at least not the interpretation of either good usage or good society. in france, where the word "dessert" originated, "ices" were set apart from dessert merely because french chefs delight in designating each item of a meal as a separate course. but chefs and cook-books notwithstanding, dessert means everything sweet that comes at the end of a meal. and the great american dessert is ice cream--or pie. pie, however, is not a "company" dessert. ice cream on the other hand is the inevitable conclusion of a formal dinner. the fact that the spoon which is double the size of a teaspoon is known as nothing but a dessert spoon, is offered in further proof that "dessert" is "spoon" and not "finger" food! _dessert service_ there are two, almost equally used, methods of serving dessert. the first or "hotel method," also seen in many fashionable private houses, is to put on a china plate for ice cream or a first course, and the finger bowl on a plate by itself, afterwards. in the "private house" service, the entire dessert paraphernalia is put on at once. in detail: in the two-course, or hotel, service, the "dessert" plate is of china, or if of glass, it must have a china one under it. a china dessert plate is just a fairly deep medium sized plate and it is always put on the table with a "dessert" spoon and fork on it. after the inevitable ice cream has been eaten, a fruit plate with a finger bowl on it, is put on in exchange. a doily goes under the finger bowl, and a fruit knife and fork on either side. in the single course, or private house, service, the ice cream plate is of glass and belongs under the finger bowl which it matches. the glass plate and finger bowl in turn are put on the fruit plate with a doily between, and the dessert spoon and fork go on either side of the finger bowl (instead of the fruit knife and fork). this arrangement of plates is seen in such houses as the worldlys' and the oldnames', and in fact in most very well done houses. the finger bowls and glass plates that match make a prettier service than the finger bowl on a china plate by itself; also it eliminates a change--but not a removal--of plates. in this service, a guest lifts the finger bowl off and eats his ice cream on the glass plate, after which the glass plate is removed and the china one is left for fruit. some people think this service confusing because an occasional guest, in lifting off the finger bowl, lifts the glass plate too, and eats his dessert on his china plate. it is merely necessary for the servants to notice at which place the china plate has been used and to bring a clean one; otherwise a "cover" is left with a glass plate or a bare tablecloth for fruit. also any one taking fruit must have a fruit knife and fork brought to him. fruit is passed immediately after ice-cream; and chocolates, conserves, or whatever the decorative sweets may be, are passed last. this single service may sound as though it were more complicated than the two-course service, but actually it is less. few people use the wrong plate and usually the ice-cream plates having others under them can be taken away two at a time. furthermore, scarcely any one takes fruit, so that the extra knives and forks are few, if any. before finishing dessert, it may be as well to add in detail, that the finger bowl doiley is about five or six inches in diameter; it may be round or square, and of the finest and sheerest needlework that can be found (or afforded). it must always be cream or white. colored embroideries look well sometimes on a country lunch table but not at dinner. no matter where it is used, the finger bowl is less than half filled with cold water; and at dinner parties, a few violets, sweet peas, or occasionally a gardenia, is put in it. (a slice of lemon is never seen outside of a chop-house where eating with the fingers may necessitate the lemon in removing grease. pretty thought!) black coffee is never served at a fashionable dinner table, but is brought afterwards with cigarettes and liqueurs into the drawing-room for the ladies, and with cigars, cigarettes and liqueurs into the smoking room for the gentlemen. if there is no smoking-room, coffee and cigars are brought to the table for the gentlemen after the ladies have gone into the drawing-room. =place cards= the place cards are usually about an inch and a half high by two inches long, sometimes slightly larger. people of old family have their crest embossed in plain white; occasionally an elderly hostess, following a lifelong custom, has her husband's crest stamped in gold. nothing other than a crest must ever be engraved on a place card; and usually they are plain, even in the houses of old families. years ago "hand-painted" place cards are said to have been in fashion. but excepting on such occasions as a christmas or a birthday dinner, they are never seen in private houses to-day. =menu cards= small, standing porcelain slates, on which the menu is written, are seen on occasional dinner tables. most often there is only one which is placed in front of the host; but sometimes there is one between every two guests. =seating the table= as has already been observed, the most practical way to seat the table is to write the names on individual cards first, and then "place" them as though playing solitaire; the guest of honor on the host's right, the second lady in rank on his left; the most distinguished or oldest gentleman on the right of the hostess, and the other guests filled in between. =who is the guest of honor?= the guest of honor is the oldest lady present, or a stranger whom you wish for some reason to honor. a bride at her first dinner in your house, after her return from her honeymoon, takes, if you choose to have her, precedence over older people. or if a younger woman has been long away she, in this instance of welcoming her home, takes precedence over her elders. the guest of honor is always led in to dinner by the host and placed on his right, the second in importance sits on his left and is taken in to dinner by the gentleman on whose right she sits. the hostess is always the last to go into the dining-room at a formal dinner. =the envelopes for the gentlemen= in an envelope addressed to each gentleman is put a card on which is written the name of the lady he is to take down to dinner. this card just fits in the envelope, which is an inch or slightly less high and about two inches long. when the envelopes are addressed and filled, they are arranged in two neat rows on a silver tray and put in the front hall. the tray is presented to each gentleman just before he goes into the drawing-room, on his arrival. =the table diagram= a frame made of leather, round or rectangular, with small openings at regular intervals around the edge in which names written on cards can be slipped, shows the seating of the table at a glance. in a frame holding twenty-four cards, twelve guests would be indicated by leaving every other card place blank, or for eight, only one in three is filled. this diagram is shown to each gentleman upon his arrival, so that he can see who is coming for dinner and where he himself is placed. at a dinner of ten or less this diagram is especially convenient as "envelopes" are used only at formal dinners of twelve and over. =when the hostess sits at the side= when the number of guests is a multiple of four, the host and hostess never sit opposite each other. it would bring two ladies and two gentlemen together if they did. at a table which seats two together at each end, the fact that the host is opposite a gentleman and the hostess opposite a lady is not noticeable; nor is it ever noticeable at a round table. but at a narrow table which has room for only one at the end, the hostess invariably sits in the seat next to that which is properly her own, putting in her place a gentleman at the end. the host usually keeps his seat rather than the hostess because the seat of honor is on his right; and in the etiquette governing dinners, the host and not the hostess is the more important personage! when there are only four, they keep their own places, otherwise the host and hostess would sit next to each other. at a dinner of eight, twelve, sixteen, twenty, etc., the host keeps his place, but at supper for eight or twelve, the hostess keeps _her_ place and the host moves a place to the right or left because the hostess at supper pours coffee or chocolate. and although the host keeps his seat at a formal dinner in honor of the lady he takes in, at a little dinner of eight, where there is no guest of honor, the host does not necessarily keep his seat at the expense of his wife unless he carves, in which case he must have the end place; just as at supper she has the end place in order to pour. =sidewalk, hall, and dressing rooms= one can be pretty sure on seeing a red velvet carpet spread down the steps of a house (or up! since there are so many sunken american basement entrances) that there are people for dinner. the carpet is kept rolled, or turned under near the foot (or top) of the steps until a few minutes before the dinner hour when it is spread across the width of the pavement by the chauffeur or whoever is on duty on the sidewalk. very big or formal dinners often have an awning, especially at a house where there is much entertaining and which has an awning of its own; but at an ordinary house, for a dinner of twelve or so, the man on the pavement must, if it is raining, shelter each arriving guest under his coachman's umbrella from carriage to door. if it does not rain, he merely opens the doors of vehicles. checks are never given at dinners, no matter how big; every motor is called by address at the end of the evening. the worldly car is not shouted for as "worldly!" but "xox fifth avenue!" the typical coachman of another day used to tell you "carriages are ordered for ten-fifteen." carriages were nearly always ordered for that hour, though with slow and long dinners no one ever actually left until the horses had exercised for at least an hour! but the chauffeur of to-day opens the door in silence--unless there is to be a concert or amateur theatricals, when he, like the coachman says, "motors are ordered for twelve o'clock," or whatever hour he is told to say. in this day of telephone and indefinite bridge games, many people prefer to have their cars telephoned for, when they are ready to go home. those who do not play bridge leave an eight o'clock dinner about half past ten, or at least order their cars for that hour. in all modern houses of size there are two rooms on the entrance floor, built sometimes as dressing-rooms and nothing else, but more often they are small reception rooms, each with a lavatory off of it. in the one given to the ladies, there is always a dressing-table with toilet appointments on it, and the lady's maid should be on duty to give whatever service may be required; when there is no dressing-room on the ground floor, the back of the hall is arranged with coat-hangers and an improvised dressing-table for the ladies, since modern people--in new york at least--never go up-stairs to a bedroom if they can help it. in fact, nine ladies out of ten drop their evening cloaks at the front door, handing them to the servant on duty, and go at once without more ado to the drawing-room. a lady arriving in her own closed car can't be very much blown about, in a completely air tight compartment and in two or three minutes of time! gentlemen also leave their hats and coats in the front part of the hail. a servant presents to each a tray of envelopes, and if there is one, the table diagram. envelopes are not really necessary when there is a table diagram, since every gentleman knows that he "takes in" the lady placed on his right! but at very big dinners in new york or washington, where many people are sure to be strangers to one another, an absent-minded gentleman might better, perhaps, have his partner's name safely in his pocket. =announcing guests= a gentleman always falls behind his wife in entering the drawing-room. if the butler knows the guests, he merely announces the wife's name first and then the husband's. if he does not know them by sight he asks whichever is nearest to him, "what name, please?" and whichever one is asked, answers: "mr. and mrs. lake." the butler then precedes the guests a few steps into the room where the hostess is stationed, and standing aside says in a low tone but very distinctly: "mrs. lake," a pause and then, "mr. lake." married people are usually announced separately as above, but occasionally people have their guests announced "mr. and mrs. ----." =announcing persons of rank= all men of high executive rank are not alone announced first, but take precedence of their wives in entering the room. the president of the united states is announced simply, "the president and mrs. harding." his title needs no qualifying appendage, since he and he solely, is _the_ president. he enters first, and alone, of course; and then mrs. harding follows. the same form precisely is used for "the vice-president and mrs. coolidge." a governor is sometimes in courtesy called "excellency" but the correct announcement would be "the governor of new jersey and mrs. edwards." he enters the room and mrs. edwards follows. "the mayor and mrs. thompson" observe the same etiquette; or in a city other than his own he would be announced "the mayor of chicago and mrs. thompson." other announcements are "the chief justice and mrs. taft," "the secretary of state and mrs. hughes." "senator and mrs. washington," but in this case the latter enters the room first, because his office is not executive. according to diplomatic etiquette an ambassador and his wife should be announced, "their excellencies the ambassador and ambassadress of great britain." the ambassador enters the room first. a minister plenipotentiary is announced "the minister of sweden." he enters a moment later and "mrs. ogren" follows. but a first secretary and his wife are announced, if they have a title of their own, "count and countess european," or "mr. and mrs. american." the president, the vice-president, the governor of a state, the mayor of a city, the ambassador of a foreign power--in other words, all executives--take precedence over their wives and enter rooms and vehicles first. but senators, representatives, secretaries of legations and all other officials who are not executive, allow their wives to precede them, just as they would if they were private individuals. foreigners who have hereditary titles are announced by them: "the duke and duchess of overthere." "the marquis and marchioness of landsend," or "sir edward and lady blank," etc. titles are invariably translated into english, "count and countess lorraine," not "m. le comte et mme. la comtesse lorraine." =how a hostess receives at a formal dinner= on all occasions of formality, at a dinner as well as at a ball, the hostess stands near the door of her drawing-room, and as guests are announced, she greets them with a smile and a handshake and says something pleasant to each. what she says is nothing very important, charm of expression and of manner can often wordlessly express a far more gracious welcome than the most elaborate phrases (which as a matter of fact should be studiously avoided). unless a woman's loveliness springs from generosity of heart and sympathy, her manners, no matter how perfectly practised, are nothing but cosmetics applied to hide a want of inner beauty; precisely as rouge and powder are applied in the hope of hiding the lack of a beautiful skin. one device is about as successful as the other; quite pleasing unless brought into comparison with the real. mrs. oldname, for instance, usually welcomes you with some such sentences as, "i am very glad to see you" or "i am so glad you could come!" or if it is raining, she very likely tells you that you were very unselfish to come out in the storm. but no matter what she says or whether anything at all, she takes your hand with a firm pressure and her smile is really a _smile_ of welcome, not a mechanical exercise of the facial muscles. she gives you always--even if only for the moment--her complete attention; and you go into her drawing-room with a distinct feeling that you are under the roof, not of a mere acquaintance, but of a friend. mr. oldname who stands never very far from his wife, always comes forward and, grasping your hand, accentuates his wife's more subtle but no less vivid welcome. and either you join a friend standing near, or he presents you, if you are a man, to a lady; or if you are a lady, he presents a man to you. some hostesses, especially those of the lion-hunting and the new-to-best-society variety are much given to explanations, and love to say "mrs. jones, i want you to meet mrs. smith. mrs. smith is the author of 'dragged from the depths,' a most enlightening work of psychic insight." or to a good-looking woman, "i am putting you next to the assyrian ambassador--i want him to carry back a flattering impression of american women!" but people of good breeding do not over-exploit their distinguished guests with embarrassing hyperbole, or make personal remarks. both are in worst possible taste. do not understand by this that explanations can not be made; it is only that they must not be embarrassingly made to their faces. nor must a "specialist's" subject be forced upon him, like a pair of manacles, by any exploiting hostess who has captured him. mrs. oldname might perhaps, in order to assist conversation for an interesting but reticent person, tell a lady just before going in to dinner, "mr. traveler who is sitting next to you at the table, has just come back from two years alone with the cannibals." this is not to exploit her "traveled lion" but to give his neighbor a starting point for conversation at table. and although personal remarks are never good form, it would be permissible for an older lady in welcoming a very young one, especially a débutante or a bride, to say, "how lovely you look, mary dear, and what an adorable dress you have on!" but to say to an older lady, "that is a very handsome string of pearls you are wearing," would be objectionable. =the duty of the host= the host stands fairly near his wife so that if any guest seems to be unknown to all of the others, he can present him to some one. at formal dinners introductions are never general and people do not as a rule speak to strangers, except those next to them at table or in the drawing-room after dinner. the host therefore makes a few introductions if necessary. before dinner, since the hostess is standing (and no gentleman may therefore sit down) and as it is awkward for a lady who is sitting, to talk with a gentleman who is standing, the ladies usually also stand until dinner is announced. =when dinner is announced= it is the duty of the butler to "count heads" so that he may know when the company has arrived. as soon as he has announced the last person, he notifies the cook. the cook being ready, the butler, having glanced into the dining-room to see that windows have been closed and the candles on the table lighted, enters the drawing-room, approaches the hostess, bows, and says quietly, "dinner is served." the host offers his arm to the lady of honor and leads the way to the dining-room. all the other gentlemen offer their arms to the ladies appointed to them, and follow the host, in an orderly procession, two and two; the only order of precedence is that the host and his partner lead, while the hostess and her partner come last. at all formal dinners, place cards being on the table, the hostess does not direct people where to sit. if there was no table diagram in the hall, the butler, standing just within the dining-room door, tells each gentleman as he approaches "right" or "left." "r" or "l" is occasionally written on the lady's name card in the envelopes given to the gentlemen, or if it is such a big dinner that there are many separate tables, the tables are numbered with standing placards (as at a public dinner) and the table number written on each lady's name card. =the manners of a hostess= first of all, a hostess must show each of her guests equal and impartial attention. also, although engrossed in the person she is talking to, she must be able to notice anything amiss that may occur. the more competent her servants, the less she need be aware of details herself, but the hostess giving a formal dinner with uncertain dining-room efficiency has a far from smooth path before her. no matter what happens, if all the china in the pantry falls with a crash, she must not appear to have heard it. no matter what goes wrong she must cover it as best she may, and at the same time cover the fact that she is covering it. to give hectic directions, merely accentuates the awkwardness. if a dish appears that is unpresentable, she as quietly as possible orders the next one to be brought in. if a guest knocks over a glass and breaks it, even though the glass be a piece of genuine steigel, her only concern must seemingly be that her guest's place has been made uncomfortable. she says, "i am so sorry, but i will have it fixed at once!" the broken glass is _nothing!_ and she has a fresh glass brought (even though it doesn't match) and dismisses all thought of the matter. both the host and hostess must keep the conversation going, if it lags, but this is not as definitely their duty at a formal, as at an informal dinner it is at the small dinner that the skilful hostess has need of what thackeray calls the "showman" quality. she brings each guest forward in turn to the center of the stage. in a lull in the conversation she says beguilingly to a clever but shy man, "john, what was that story you told me----" and then she repeats briefly an introduction to a topic in which "john" particularly shines. or later on, she begins a narrative and breaks off suddenly, turning to some one else, "_you_ tell them!" these examples are rather bald, and overemphasize the method in order to make it clear. practise and the knowledge of human nature, or of the particular temperament with which she is trying to deal, can alone tell her when she may lead or provoke this or that one to being at his best, to his own satisfaction as well as that of the others who may be present. her own character and sympathy are the only real "showman" assets, since no one "shows" to advantage except in a congenial environment. =the late guest= a polite hostess waits twenty minutes after the dinner hour, and then orders dinner served. to wait more than twenty minutes, or actually fifteen after those who took the allowable five minutes grace, would be showing lack of consideration to many for the sake of one. when the late guest finally enters the dining-room, the hostess rises, shakes hands with her, but does not leave her place at table. she doesn't rise for a gentleman. it is the guest who must go up to the hostess and apologize for being late. the hostess must never take the guest to task, but should say something polite and conciliatory such as, "i was sure you would not want us to wait dinner!" the newcomer is usually served with dinner from the beginning unless she is considerate enough to say to the butler, "just let me begin with this course." old mrs. toplofty's manners to late guests are an exception: on the last stroke of eight o'clock in winter and half after eight in newport, dinner is announced. she waits for no one! furthermore, a guest arriving after a course has been served, does not have to protest against disarranging the order of dinner since the rule of the house is that a course which has passed a chair is not to be returned. a guest missing his "turn" misses that course. the result is that everyone dining with mrs. toplofty arrives on the stroke of the dinner hour; which is also rather necessary, as she is one of those who like the service to be rushed through at top speed, and anyone arriving half an hour late would find dinner over. it would be excellent discipline if there were more hostesses like her, but no young woman could be so autocratic and few older ones care (or dare) to be. nothing shows selfish want of consideration more than being habitually late for dinner. not only are others, who were themselves considerate, kept waiting, but dinner is dried and ruined for everyone else through the fault of the tardy one. and though expert cooks know how to keep food from becoming uneatable, no food can be so good as at the moment for which it is prepared, and the habitually late guest should be made to realize how unfairly she is meeting her hostess' generosity by destroying for every one the hospitality which she was invited to share. on the other hand, before a formal dinner, it is the duty of the hostess to be dressed and in her drawing-room fifteen, or ten minutes at least, before the hour set for dinner. for a very informal dinner it is not important to be ready ahead of time, but even then a late hostess is an inconsiderate one. =etiquette of gloves and napkin= ladies always wear gloves to formal dinners and take them off at table. entirely off. it is hideous to leave them on the arm, merely turning back the hands. both gloves and fan are supposed to be laid across the lap, and one is supposed to lay the napkin folded once in half across the lap too, on top of the gloves and fan, and all three are supposed to stay in place on a slippery satin skirt on a little lap, that more often than not slants downward. it is all very well for etiquette to say "they stay there," but every woman knows they don't! and this is quite a nice question: if you obey etiquette and lay the napkin on top of the fan and gloves loosely across your satin-covered knees, it will depend merely upon the heaviness and position of the fan's handle whether the avalanche starts right, left or forward, onto the floor. there is just _one_ way to keep these four articles (including the lap as one) from disintegrating, which is to put the napkin cornerwise across your knees and tuck the two side corners under like a lap robe, with the gloves and the fan tied in place as it were. this ought not to be put in a book of etiquette, which should say you must do nothing of the kind, but it is either do that or have the gentleman next you groping under the table at the end of the meal; and it is impossible to imagine that etiquette should wish to conserve the picture of "gentlemen on all fours" as the concluding ceremonial at dinners. =the turning of the table= the turning of the table is accomplished by the hostess, who merely turns from the gentleman (on her left probably) with whom she has been talking through the soup and the fish course, to the one on her right. as she turns, the lady to whom the "right" gentleman has been talking, turns to the gentleman further on, and in a moment everyone at table is talking to a new neighbor. sometimes a single couple who have become very much engrossed, refuse to change partners and the whole table is blocked; leaving one lady and one gentleman on either side of the block, staring alone at their plates. at this point the hostess has to come to the rescue by attracting the blocking lady's attention and saying, "sally, you cannot talk to professor bugge any longer! mr. smith has been trying his best to attract your attention." "sally" being in this way brought awake, is obliged to pay attention to mr. smith, and professor bugge, little as he may feel inclined, must turn his attention to the other side. to persist in carrying on their own conversation at the expense of others, would be inexcusably rude, not only to their hostess but to every one present. at a dinner not long ago, mr. kindhart sitting next to mrs. wellborn and left to himself because of the assiduity of the lady's farther partner, slid his own name-card across and in front of her, to bring her attention to the fact that it was "his turn." =enemies must bury hatchets= one inexorable rule of etiquette is that you must talk to your next door neighbor at a dinner table. you _must_, that is all there is about it! even if you are placed next to some one with whom you have had a bitter quarrel, consideration for your hostess, who would be distressed if she knew you had been put in a disagreeable place, and further consideration for the rest of the table which is otherwise "blocked," exacts that you give no outward sign of your repugnance and that you make a pretence at least for a little while, of talking together. at dinner once, mrs. toplofty, finding herself next to a man she quite openly despised, said to him with apparent placidity, "i shall not talk to you--because i don't care to. but for the sake of my hostess i shall say my multiplication tables. twice one are two, twice two are four ----" and she continued on through the tables, making him alternate them with her. as soon as she politely could she turned again to her other companion. =manners at table= it used to be an offense, and it still is considered impolite, to refuse dishes at the table, because your refusal implies that you do not like what is offered you. if this is true, you should be doubly careful to take at least a little on your plate and make a pretence of eating some of it, since to refuse course after course can not fail to distress your hostess. if you are "on a diet" and accepted the invitation with that stipulation, your not eating is excusable; but even then to sit with an empty plate in front of you throughout a meal makes you a seemingly reproachful table companion for those of good appetite sitting next to you. =attacking a complicated dish= when a dinner has been prepared by a chef who prides himself on being a decorative artist, the guest of honor and whoever else may be the first to be served have quite a problem to know which part of an intricate structure is to be eaten, and which part is scenic effect! the main portion is generally clear enough; the uncertainty is in whether the flowers are eatable vegetables and whether the things that look like ducks are potatoes, or trimming. if there are six or more, the chances are they are edible, and that one or two of a kind are embellishments only. rings around food are nearly always to be eaten; platforms under food seldom, if ever, are. anything that looks like pastry is to be eaten; and anything divided into separate units should be taken on your plate complete. you should not try to cut a section from anything that has already been divided into portions in the kitchen. aspics and desserts are, it must be said, occasionally chinese puzzles, but if you do help yourself to part of the decoration, no great harm is done. dishes are _never_ passed from hand to hand at a dinner, not even at the smallest and most informal one. sometimes people pass salted nuts to each other, or an extra sweet from a dish near by, but not circling the table. =leaving the table= at the end of dinner, when the last dish of chocolates has been passed and the hostess sees that no one is any longer eating, she looks across the table, and catching the eye of one of the ladies, slowly stands up. the one who happens to be observing also stands up, and in a moment everyone is standing. the gentlemen offer their arms to their partners and conduct them back to the drawing-room or the library or wherever they are to sit during the rest of the evening. each gentleman then slightly bows, takes leave of his partner, and adjourns with the other gentlemen to the smoking-room, where after-dinner coffee, liqueurs, cigars and cigarettes are passed, and they all sit where they like and with whom they like, and talk. it is perfectly correct for a gentleman to talk to any other who happens to be sitting near him, whether he knows him or not. the host on occasions--but it is rarely necessary--starts the conversation if most of the guests are inclined to keep silent, by drawing this one or that into discussion of a general topic that everyone is likely to take part in. at the end of twenty minutes or so, he must take the opportunity of the first lull in the conversation to suggest that they join the ladies in the drawing-room. in a house where there is no smoking-room, the gentlemen do not conduct the ladies to the drawing-room, but stay where they are (the ladies leaving alone) and have their coffee, cigars, liqueurs and conversation sitting around the table. in the drawing-room, meanwhile, the ladies are having coffee, cigarettes, and liqueurs passed to them. there is not a modern new york hostess, scarcely even an old-fashioned one, who does not have cigarettes passed after dinner. at a dinner of ten or twelve, the five or six ladies are apt to sit in one group, or possibly two sit by themselves, and three of four together, but at a very large dinner they inevitably fall into groups of four or five or so each. in any case, the hostess must see that no one is left to sit alone. if one of her guests is a stranger to the others, the hostess draws a chair near one of the groups and offering it to her single guest sits beside her. after a while when this particular guest has at least joined the outskirts of the conversation of the group, the hostess leaves her and joins another group where perhaps she sits beside some one else who has been somewhat left out. when there is no one who needs any especial attention, the hostess nevertheless sits for a time with each of the different groups in order to spend at least a part of the evening with all of her guests. =when the gentlemen return to the drawing-room= when the gentlemen return to the drawing-room, if there is a particular lady that one of them wants to talk to, he naturally goes directly to where she is, and sits down beside her. if, however, she is securely wedged in between two other ladies, he must ask her to join him elsewhere. supposing mr. jones, for instance, wants to talk to mrs. bobo gilding, who is sitting between mrs. stranger and miss stiffleigh: mr. jones saunters up to mrs. gilding--he must not look too eager or seem too directly to prefer her to the two who are flanking her position, so he says rather casually, "will you come and talk to me?" whereupon she leaves her sandwiched position and goes over to another part of the room, and sits down where there is a vacant seat beside her. usually, however, the ladies on the ends, being accessible, are more apt to be joined by the first gentleman entering than is the one in the center, whom it is impossible to reach. etiquette has always decreed that gentlemen should not continue to talk together after leaving the smoking-room, as it is not courteous to those of the ladies who are necessarily left without partners. at informal dinners, and even at many formal ones, bridge tables are set up in an adjoining room, if not in the drawing-room. those few who do not play bridge spend a half hour (or less) in conversation and then go home, unless there is some special diversion. =music or other entertainment after dinner= very large dinners of fifty or over are almost invariably followed by some sort of entertainment. either the dinner is given before a ball or a musicale or amateur theatricals, or professionals are brought in to dance or sing. in this day when conversation is not so much a "lost" as a "wilfully abandoned" art, people in numbers can not be left to spend an evening on nothing but conversation. grouped together by the hundred and with bridge tables absent, the modern fashionables in america, and in england, too, are as helpless as children at a party without something for them to do, listen to, or look at! =very big dinners= a dinner of sixty, for instance, is always served at separate tables; a center one of twenty people, and four corner tables of ten each. or if less, a center table of twelve and four smaller tables of eight. a dinner of thirty-six or less is seated at a single table. but whether there are eighteen, eighty, or one or two hundred, the setting of each individual table and the service is precisely the same. each one is set with centerpiece, candles, compotiers, and evenly spaced plates, with the addition of a number by which to identify it; or else each table is decorated with different colored flowers, pink, yellow, orchid, white. whatever the manner of identification, the number or the color is written in the corner of the ladies' name cards that go in the envelopes handed to each arriving gentleman at the door: "pink," "yellow," "orchid," "white," or "center table." in arranging for the service of dinner the butler details three footmen, usually, to each table of ten, and six footmen to the center table of twenty. there are several houses (palaces really) in new york that have dining-rooms big enough to seat a hundred or more easily. but sixty is a very big dinner, and even thirty does not "go" well without an entertainment following it. otherwise the details are the same in every particular as well as in table setting: the hostess receives at the door; guests stand until dinner is announced; the host leads the way with the guest of honor. the hostess goes to table last. the host and hostess always sit at the big center table and the others at that table are invariably the oldest present. no one resents being grouped according to "age," but many do resent a segregation of ultra fashionables. you must never put all the prominent ones at one table, unless you want forever to lose the acquaintance of those at every other. after dinner, the gentlemen go to the smoking-room and the ladies sit in the ballroom, where, if there is to be a theatrical performance, the stage is probably arranged. the gentlemen return, the guests take their places, and the performance begins. after the performance the leave-taking is the same as at all dinners or parties. =taking leave= that the guest of honor must be first to take leave was in former times so fixed a rule that everyone used to sit on and on, no matter how late it became, waiting for her whose duty it was, to go! more often than not, the guest of honor was an absent-minded old lady, or celebrity, who very likely was vaguely saying to herself, "oh, my! are these people never going home?" until by and by it dawned upon her that the obligation was her own! but to-day, although it is still the obligation of the guest who sat on the host's right to make the move to go, it is not considered ill-mannered, if the hour is growing late, for another lady to rise first. in fact, unless the guest of honor is one _really_, meaning a stranger or an elderly lady of distinction, there is no actual precedence in being the one first to go. if the hour is very early when the first lady rises, the hostess, who always rises too, very likely says: "i hope you are not thinking of going!" the guest answers, "we don't want to in the least, but dick has to be at the office so early!" or "i'm sorry, but i must. thank you so much for asking us." usually, however, each one merely says, "good night, thank you so much." the hostess answers, "i am so glad you could come!" and she then presses a bell (not one that any guest can hear!) for the servants to be in the dressing-rooms and hall. when one guest leaves, they all leave--except those at the bridge tables. they all say, "good night" to whomever they were talking with and shake hands, and then going up to their hostess, they shake hands and say, "thank you for asking us," or "thank you so much." "thank you so much; good night," is the usual expression. and the hostess answers, "it was so nice to see you again," or "i'm glad you could come." but most usually of all she says merely, "good night!" and suggests friendliness by the tone in which she says it--an accent slightly more on the "good" perhaps than on the "night." in the dressing-room, or in the hall, the maid is waiting to help the ladies on with their wraps, and the butler is at the door. when mr. and mrs. jones are ready to leave, he goes out on the front steps and calls, "mr. jones' car!" the jones' chauffeur answers, "here," the butler says to either mr. or mrs. jones, "your car is at the door!" and they go out. the bridge people leave as they finish their games; sometimes a table at a time or most likely two together. (husbands and wives are never, if it can be avoided, put at the same table.) young people in saying good night say, "good night, it has been too wonderful!" or "good night, and thank you _so_ much." and the hostess smiles and says, "so glad you could come!" or just "good night!" =the little dinner= the little dinner is thought by most people to be the very pleasantest social function there is. it is always informal, of course, and intimate conversation is possible, since strangers are seldom, or at least very carefully, included. for younger people, or others who do not find great satisfaction in conversation, the dinner of eight and two tables of bridge afterwards has no rival in popularity. the formal dinner is liked by most people now and then (and for those who don't especially like it, it is at least salutary as a spine stiffening exercise), but for night after night, season after season, the little dinner is to social activity what the roast course is to the meal. the service of a "little" dinner is the same as that of a big one. as has been said, proper service in properly run houses is never relaxed, whether dinner is for eighteen or for two alone. the table appointments are equally fine and beautiful, though possibly not quite so rare. really priceless old glass and china can't be replaced because duplicates do not exist and to use it three times a day would be to court destruction; replicas, however, are scarcely less beautiful and can be replaced if chipped. the silver is identical; the food is equally well prepared, though a course or two is eliminated; the service is precisely the same. the clothes that fashionable people wear every evening they are home alone, are, if not the same, at least as beautiful of their kind. young gilding's lounge suit is quite as "handsome" as his dinner clothes, and he tubs and shaves and changes his linen when he puts it on. his wife wears a tea gown, which is classified as a negligé rather in irony, since it is apt to be more elaborate and gorgeous (to say nothing of dignified) than half of the garments that masquerade these days as evening dresses! they wear these informal clothes only if very intimate friends are coming to dinner alone. "alone" may include as many as eight!--but never includes a stranger. [illustration: a dinner service without silver--"the little dinner is thought by most people to be the very pleasantest social function there is." [page .]] otherwise, at informal dinners, the host wears a dinner coat and the hostess a simple evening dress, or perhaps an elaborate one that has been seen by everyone and which goes on at little dinners for the sake of getting some "wear out of it." she never, however, receives formally standing, though she rises when a guest comes into the room, shakes hands and sits down again. when dinner is announced, gentlemen do not offer their arms to the ladies. the hostess and the other ladies go into the dining-room together, not in a procession, but just as they happen to come. if one of them is much older than the others, the younger ones wait for her to go ahead of them, or one who is much younger goes last. the men stroll in the rear. the hostess on reaching the dining-room goes to her own place where she stands and tells everyone where she or he is to sit. "mary, will you sit next to jim, and lucy on his other side; kate, over there, bobo, next to me," etc. =carving on the table= carving is sometimes seen at "home" dinner tables. a certain type of man always likes to carve, and such a one does. but in forty-nine houses out of fifty, in new york at least, the carving is done by the cook in the kitchen--a roast while it is still in the roasting pan, and close to the range at that, so that nothing can possibly get cooled off in the carving. after which the pieces are carefully put together again, and transferred to an intensely hot platter. this method has two advantages over table carving; quicker service, and hotter food. unless a change takes place in the present fashion, none except cooks will know anything about carving, which was once considered an art necessary to every gentleman. the boast of the high-born southerner, that he could carve a canvas-back holding it on his fork, will be as unknown as the driving of a four-in-hand. old-fashioned butlers sometimes carve in the pantry, but in the most modern service all carving is done by the cook. cold meats are, in the english service, put whole on the sideboard and the family and guests cut off what they choose themselves. in america cold meat is more often sliced and laid on a platter garnished with finely chopped meat jelly and water cress or parsley. =the "stag" or "bachelor" dinner= a man's dinner is sometimes called a "stag" or a "bachelor" dinner; and as its name implies, is a dinner given by a man and for men only. a man's dinner is usually given to celebrate an occasion of welcome or farewell. the best-known bachelor dinner is the one given by the groom just before his wedding. other dinners are more apt to be given by one man (or a group of men) in honor of a noted citizen who has returned from a long absence, or who is about to embark on an expedition or a foreign mission. or a young man may give a dinner in honor of a friend's twenty-first birthday; or an older man may give a dinner merely because he has a quantity of game which he has shot and wants to share with his especial friends. nearly always a man's dinner is given at the host's club or his bachelor quarters or in a private room in a hotel. but if a man chooses to give a stag dinner in his own house, his wife (or his mother) should not appear. for a wife to come downstairs and receive the guests for him, can not be too strongly condemned as out of place. such a maneuver on her part, instead of impressing his guests with her own grace and beauty, is far more likely to make them think what a "poor worm" her husband must be, to allow himself to be hen-pecked. and for a mother to appear at a son's dinner is, if anything, worse. an essential piece of advice to every woman is: no matter how much you may want to say "how do you do" to your husband's or your son's friends--_don't!_ chapter xv dinner giving with limited equipment =the service problem= people who live all the year in the country are not troubled with formal dinner giving, because (excepting on great estates) formality and the country do not go together. for the one or two formal dinners which the average city dweller feels obliged to give every season, nothing is easier than to hire professionals; it is also economical, since nothing is wasted in experiment. a cook equal to the gildings' chef can be had to come in and cook your dinner at about the price of two charwomen; skilled butlers or waitresses are to be had in all cities of any size at comparatively reasonable fees. the real problem is in giving the innumerable casual and informal dinners for which professionals are not only expensive, but inappropriate. the problem of limited equipment would not present great difficulty if the tendency of the age were toward a slower pace, but the opposite is the case; no one wants to be kept waiting a second at table, and the world of fashion is growing more impatient and critical instead of less. the service of a dinner can however be much simplified and shortened by choosing dishes that do not require accessories. =dishes that have accompanying condiments= nothing so delays the service of a dinner as dishes that must immediately be followed by necessary accessories. if there is no one to help the butler or waitress, no dish must be included on the menu--unless you are only one or two at table, or unless your guests are neither critical nor "modern"--that is not complete in itself. for instance, fish has nearly always an accompanying dish. broiled fish, or fish meunière, has ice-cold cucumbers sliced as thin as saratoga chips, with a very highly seasoned french dressing, or a mixture of cucumbers and tomatoes. boiled fish always has mousseline, hollandaise, mushroom or egg sauce, and round scooped boiled potatoes sprinkled with parsley. fried fish must always be accompanied by tartar sauce and pieces of lemon, and a boiled fish even if covered with sauce when served, is usually followed by additional sauce. many meats have condiments. roast beef is never served at a dinner party--it is a family dish and generally has yorkshire pudding or roast potatoes on the platter with the roast itself, and is followed by pickles or spiced fruit. turkey likewise, with its chestnut stuffing and accompanying cranberry sauce, is not a "company" dish, though excellent for an informal dinner. saddle of mutton is a typical company dish--all mutton has currant jelly. lamb has mint sauce--or mint jelly. partridge or guinea hen must have two sauce boats--presented on one tray--browned bread-crumbs in one, and cream sauce in the other. apple sauce goes with barnyard duck. the best accompaniment to wild duck is the precisely timed minutes in a quick oven! and celery salad, which goes with all game, need not be especially hurried. salad is always the accompaniment of "tame game," aspics, cold meat dishes of all sorts, and is itself "accompanied by" crackers and cheese or cheese soufflé or cheese straws. =special menus of unaccompanied dishes= one person can wait on eight people if dishes are chosen which need no supplements. the fewer the dishes to be passed, the fewer the hands needed to pass them. and yet many housekeepers thoughtlessly order dishes within the list above, and then wonder why the dinner is so hopelessly slow, when their waitress is usually so good! the following suggestions are merely offered in illustration; each housekeeper can easily devise further for herself. it is not necessary to pass anything whatever with melon or grapefruit, or a macédoine of fruit, or a canapé. oysters, on the other hand, have to be followed by tabasco and buttered brown bread. soup needs nothing with it (if you do not choose split pea which needs croutons, or petite marmite which needs grated cheese). fish dishes which are "made" with sauce in the dish, such as sole au vin blanc, lobster newburg, crab ravigote, fish mousse, especially if in a ring filled with plenty of sauce, do not need anything more. tartar sauce for fried fish can be put in baskets made of hollowed-out lemon rind--a basket for each person--and used as a garnishing around the dish. filet mignon, or fillet of beef, both of them surrounded by little clumps of vegetables share with chicken casserole in being the life-savers of the hostess who has one waitress in her dining-room. another dish, but more appropriate to lunch than to dinner, is of french chops banked against mashed potatoes, or purée of chestnuts, and surrounded by string beans or peas. none of these dishes requires any following dish whatever, not even a vegetable. fried chicken with corn fritters on the platter is almost as good as the two beef dishes, since the one green vegetable which should go with it, can be served leisurely, because fried chicken is not quickly eaten. and a ring of aspic with salad in the center does not require accompanying crackers as immediately as plain lettuce. steak and broiled chicken are fairly practical since neither needs gravy, condiment, or sauce--especially if you have a divided vegetable dish so that two vegetables can be passed at the same time. if a hostess chooses not necessarily the above dishes but others which approximately take their places, she need have no fear of a slow dinner, if her one butler or waitress is at all competent. =the possibilities of the plain cook= in giving informal or little dinners, you need never worry because you cannot set the dishes of a "professional" dinner-party cook before your friends or even strangers; so long as the food that you are offering is good of its kind. it is by no means necessary that your cook should be able to make the "clear" soup that is one of the tests of the perfect cook (and practically never produced by any other); nor is it necessary that she be able to construct comestible mosaics and sculptures. the essential thing is to prevent her from attempting anything she can't do well. if she can make certain dishes that are pretty as well as good to taste, so much the better. but remember, the more pretentious a dish is, the more it challenges criticism. if your cook can make neither clear nor cream soup, but can make a delicious clam chowder, better far to have a clam chowder! on no account let her attempt clear green turtle, which has about as good a chance to be perfect as a supreme of boned capon--in other words, none whatsoever! and the same way throughout dinner. whichever dishes your own particular nora or selma or marie can do best, those are the ones you must have for your dinners. another thing: it is not important to have variety. because you gave the normans chicken casserole the last time they dined with you is no reason why you should not give it to them again--if that is the "specialty of the house" as the french say. a late, and greatly loved, hostess whose sunday luncheons at a huge country house just outside of washington were for years one of the outstanding features of washington's smartest society, had the same lunch exactly, week after week, year after year. those who went to her house knew just as well what the dishes would be as they did where the dining-room was situated. at her few enormous and formal dinners in town, her cook was allowed to be magnificently architectural, but if you dined with her alone, the chances were ten to one that the sunday chicken and pancakes would appear before you. =do not experiment for strangers= typical dinner-party dishes are invariably the temptation no less than the downfall of ambitious ignorance. never let an inexperienced cook _attempt a new dish_ for company, no matter how attractive her description of it may sound. try it yourself, or when you are having family or most intimate friends who will understand if it turns out all wrong that it is a "trial" dish. in fact, it is a very good idea to share the testing of it with some one who can help you in suggestions, if they are needed for its improvement. or supposing you have a cook who is rather poor on all dinner dishes, but makes delicious bread and cake and waffles and oyster stew and creamed chicken, or even hash! you can make a specialty of asking people to "supper." suppers are necessarily informal, but there is no objection in that. formal parties play a very small rôle anyway compared to informal ones. there are no end of people, and the smartest ones at that, who entertain only in the most informal possible way. mrs. oldname gives at most two formal dinners a year; her typical dinners and suppers are for eight. =proper dishing= the "dishing" is quite as important as the cooking; a smear or thumb-mark on the edge of a dish is like a spot on the front of a dress! water must not be allowed to collect at the bottom of a dish (that is why a folded napkin is always put under boiled fish and sometimes under asparagus). and dishes must be hot; they cannot be too hot! meat juice that has started to crust is nauseating. far better have food too hot to eat and let people take their time eating it than that others should suffer the disgust of cold victuals! sending in cold food is one of the worst faults (next to not knowing how to cook) that a cook can have. =professional or home dining room service= just as it is better to hire a professional dinner-party cook than to run the risk of attempting a formal dinner with your own nora or selma unless you are very sure she is adequate, in the same way it is better to have a professional waitress as captain over your own, or a professional butler over your own inexperienced one, than to have your meal served in spasms and long pauses. but if your waitress, assisted by the chambermaid, perfectly waits on six, you will find that they can very nicely manage ten, even with accompanied dishes. =blunders in service= if an inexperienced servant blunders, you should pretend, if you can, not to know it. never attract anyone's attention to anything by apologizing or explaining, unless the accident happens to a guest. under ordinary circumstances "least said, soonest mended" is the best policy. if a servant blunders, it makes the situation much worse to take her to task, the cause being usually that she is nervous or ignorant. speak, if it is necessary to direct her, very gently and as kindly as possible; your object being to restore confidence, not to increase the disorder. beckon her to you and tell her as you might tell a child you were teaching: "give mrs. smith a tablespoon, not a teaspoon." or, "you have forgotten the fork on that dish." never let her feel that you think her stupid, but encourage her as much as possible and when she does anything especially well, tell her so. =the encouragement of praise= nearly all people are quick to censure but rather chary of praise. admonish of course where you must, but censure only with justice, and don't forget that whether of high estate or humble, we all of us like praise--sometimes. when a guest tells you your dinner is the best he has ever eaten, remember that the cook cooked it, and tell her it was praised. or if the dining-room service was silent and quick and perfect, then tell those who served it how well it was done. if you are entertaining all the time, you need not commend your household after every dinner you give, but if any especial willingness, attentiveness, or tact is shown, don't forget that a little praise is not only merest justice but is beyond the purse of no one. chapter xvi luncheons, breakfasts and suppers =the invitations= although the engraved card is occasionally used for an elaborate luncheon, especially for one given in honor of a noted person, formal invitations to lunch in very fashionable houses are nearly always written in the first person, and rarely sent out more than a week in advance. for instance: dear mrs. kindhart (or martha): will you lunch with me on monday the tenth at half after one o'clock? hoping so much to see you, sincerely (or affectionately), jane toplofty. if the above lunch were given in honor of somebody--mrs. eminent, for instance--the phrase "to meet mrs. eminent" would have been added immediately after the word "o'clock." at a very large luncheon for which the engraved card might be used, "to meet mrs. eminent" would be written across the top of the card of invitation. informal invitations are telephoned nearly always. invitation to a stand-up luncheon (or breakfast; it is breakfast if the hour is twelve or half after, and lunch if at one, or one-thirty), is either telephoned or written on an ordinary visiting card: [hw: sat. oct. . luncheon at o'clock] mr. and mrs. gilding golden hall if r.s.v.p. is added in the lower corner, the invitation should be answered, otherwise the hostess is obliged to guess how many to provide for. or, if the hostess prefers, a personal note is always courteous: dear mrs. neighbor: we are having a stand-up luncheon on saturday, october second, at one o'clock, and hope that you and your husband and any guests who may be staying with you will come, very sincerely yours, alice toplofty gilding. golden hall sept. . a personal note always exacts a reply--which may however be telephoned, unless the invitation was worded in the formal third person. a written answer is more polite, if the hostess is somewhat of a stranger to you. =the formal luncheon of to-day= luncheon, being a daylight function, is never so formidable as a dinner, even though it may be every bit as formal and differ from the latter in minor details only. luncheons are generally given by, and for, ladies, but it is not unusual, especially in summer places or in town on saturday or sunday, to include an equal number of gentlemen. but no matter how large or formal a luncheon may be, there is rarely a chauffeur on the sidewalk, or a carpet or an awning. the hostess, instead of receiving at the door, sits usually in the center of the room in some place that has an unobstructed approach from the door. each guest coming into the room is preceded by the butler to within a short speaking distance of the hostess, where he announces the new arrival's name, and then stands aside. where there is a waitress instead of a butler, guests greet the hostess unannounced. the hostess rises, or if standing takes a step forward, shakes hands, says "i'm so glad to see you," or "i am delighted to see you," or "how do you do!" she then waits for a second or two to see if the guest who has just come in speaks to anyone; if not, she makes the necessary introduction. when the butler or waitress has "counted heads" and knows the guests have arrived, he or she enters the room, bows to the hostess and says, "luncheon is served." if there is a guest of honor, the hostess leads the way to the dining-room, walking beside her. otherwise, the guests go in twos or threes, or even singly, just as they happen to come, except that the very young make way for their elders, and gentlemen stroll in with those they happen to be talking to, or, if alone, fill in the rear. the gentlemen _never_ offer their arms to ladies in going in to a luncheon--unless there should be an elderly guest of honor, who might be taken in by the host, as at a dinner. but the others follow informally. =the table= candles have no place on a lunch or breakfast table; and are used only where a dining-room is unfortunately without daylight. also a plain damask tablecloth (which must always be put on top of a thick table felt) is correct for dinner but not for luncheon. the traditional lunch table is "bare"--which does not mean actually bare at all, but that it has a centerpiece, either round or rectangular or square, with place mats to match, made in literally unrestricted varieties of linen, needlework and lace. the centerpiece is anywhere from inches to a yard and a half square, on a square or round table, and from half a yard to a yard wide by length in proportion to the length of a rectangular table. the place mats are round or square or rectangular to match, and are put at the places. or if the table is a refectory one, instead of centerpiece and doilies, the table is set with a runner not reaching to the edge at the side, but falling over both ends. or there may be a tablecloth made to fit the top of the table to within an inch or two of its edge. occasionally there is a real cloth that hangs over like a dinner cloth, but it always has lace or open-work and is made of fine linen so that the table shows through. the decorations of the table are practically the same as for dinner: flowers, or a silver ornament or epergne in the center, and flower dishes or compotiers or patens filled with ornamental fruit or candy at the corners. if the table is very large and rather bare without candles, four vases or silver bowls of flowers, or ornamental figures are added. if the center ornament is of porcelain, four porcelain figures to match have at least a logical reason for their presence, or a bisque "garden" set of vases and balustrades, with small flowers and vines put in the vases to look as though they were growing, follows out the decoration. most people, however, like a sparsely ornamented table. the places are set as for dinner, with a place plate, three forks, two knives and a small spoon. the lunch napkin, which should match the table linen, is much smaller than the dinner napkin, and is not folded quite the same: it is folded like a handkerchief, in only four folds (four thicknesses). the square is laid on the place plate diagonally, with the monogrammed (or embroidered) corner pointing down toward the edge of the table. the upper corner is then turned sharply under in a flat crease for about a quarter of its diagonal length; then the two sides are rolled loosely under, making a sort of pillow effect laid sideways; with a straight top edge and a pointed lower edge, and the monogram displayed in the center. another feature of luncheon service, which is always omitted at dinner, is the bread and butter plate. _the bread and butter plate_ the butter plate has been entirely dispossessed by the bread and butter plate, which is part of the luncheon service always--as well as of breakfast and supper. it is a very small plate about five and a half to six and a half inches in diameter, and is put at the left side of each place just beyond the forks. butter is sometimes put on the plate by the servant (as in a restaurant) but usually it is passed. hot breads are an important feature of every luncheon; hot crescents, soda biscuits, bread biscuits, dinner rolls, or corn bread, the latter baked in small pans like pie plates four inches in diameter. very thin bread that is roasted in the oven until it is curled and light brown (exactly like a large saratoga chip), is often made for those who don't eat butter, and is also suitable for dinner. this "double-baked" bread, toast, and one or two of the above varieties, are all put in an old-fashioned silver cake-basket, or actual basket of wicker, and passed as often as necessary. butter is also passed (or helped) throughout the meal until the table is cleared for dessert. bread and butter plates are always removed with the salt and pepper pots. =the service of luncheon= the service is identical with that of dinner. carving is done in the kitchen and no food set on the table except ornamental dishes of fruit, candy and nuts. the plate service is also the same as at dinner. the places are never left plateless, excepting after salad, when the table is cleared and crumbed for dessert. the dessert plates and finger bowls are arranged as for dinner. flowers are usually put in the finger bowls, a little spray of any sweet-scented flower, but "corsage bouquets" laid at the places with flower pins complete are in very bad taste. =the luncheon menu= five courses at most (not counting the passing of a dish of candy or after-dinner coffee as a course), or more usually four actual courses, are thought sufficient in the smartest houses. not even at the worldlys' or the gildings' will you ever see a longer menu than: . fruit, or soup in cups . eggs . meat and vegetables . salad . dessert or . fruit . soup . meat and vegetables . salad . dessert or . fruit . soup . eggs . fowl or "tame" game with salad . dessert an informal lunch menu is seldom more than four courses and would eliminate either no. or no. or no. . the most popular fruit course is a macédoine or mixture of fresh orange, grape fruit, malaga grapes, banana, and perhaps a peach or a little pineapple; in fact, any sort of fruit cut into very small pieces, with sugar and maraschino, or rum, for flavor--or nothing but sugar--served in special bowl-shaped glasses that fit into long-stemmed and much larger ones, with a space for crushed ice between; or it can just as well be put in champagne or any bowl-shaped glasses, after being kept as cold as possible in the ice-box until sent to the table. if the first course is grape fruit, it is cut across in half, the sections cut free and all dividing skin and seeds taken out with a sharp vegetable knife, and sugar put in it and left standing for an hour or so. a slice of melon is served plain. soup at luncheon, or at a wedding breakfast or a ball supper, is never served in soup plates, but in two-handled cups, and is eaten with a teaspoon or a bouillon spoon. it is limited to a few varieties: either chicken, or clam broth, with a spoonful of whipped cream on top; or bouillon, or green turtle, or strained chicken, or tomato broth; or in summer, cold bouillon or broth. lunch party egg dishes must number a hundred varieties. (see any cook book!) eggs that are substantial and "rich," such as eggs benedict, or stuffed with pâté de foie gras and a mushroom sauce, should then be "balanced" by a simple meat, such as broiled chicken and salad, combining meat and salad courses in one. on the other hand, should you have a light egg course, like "eggs surprise," you could have meat and vegetables, and plain salad; or an elaborate salad and no dessert. or with fruit and soup, omit eggs, especially if there is to be an aspic with salad. the menu of an informal luncheon, if it does not leave out a course, at least chooses simpler dishes. a bouillon or broth, shirred eggs or an omelette; or scrambled eggs on toast which has first been spread with a pâté or meat purée; then chicken or a chop with vegetables, a salad of plain lettuce with crackers and cheese, and a pudding or pie or any other "family" dessert. or broiled chicken, chicken croquettes, or an aspic, is served with the salad in very hot weather. while cold food is both appropriate and palatable, no meal should ever be chosen without at least one course of hot food. many people dislike cold food, and it disagrees with others, but if you offer your guests soup, or even tea or chocolate, it would then do to have the rest of the meal cold. =luncheon beverages= it is an american custom--especially in communities where the five o'clock tea habit is neither so strong nor so universal as in new york, for the lady of a house to have the tea set put before her at the table, not only when alone, but when having friends lunching informally with her, and to pour tea, coffee, or chocolate. and there is certainly not the slightest reason why, if she is used to these beverages and would feel their omission, she should not "pour out" what she chooses. in fact, although tea is never served hot at formal new york luncheons, iced tea is customary in all country houses in summer; and chocolate, not poured by the hostess, but brought in from the pantry and put down at the right of each plate, is by no means unusual at informal lunch parties. iced tea at lunch in summer is poured at the table by a servant from a glass pitcher, and is prepared like a "cup" with lemon and sugar, and sometimes with cut up fresh fruit and a little squeezed fruit juice. plain cold tea may be passed in glasses, and lemon and sugar separately. at an informal luncheon, cold coffee, instead of tea, is passed around in a glass pitcher, on a tray that also holds a bowl of powdered sugar and a pitcher of cold milk, and another of as thick as possible cream. the guests pour their coffee to suit themselves into tall glasses half full of broken ice, and furnished with very long-handled spoons. if tea or coffee or chocolate are not served during the meal, there is always a cup of some sort: grape or orange juice (in these days) with sugar and mint leaves, and ginger ale or carbonic water. if dessert is a hot pudding or pastry, the "hotel service" of dessert plates should be used. the glass plate is particularly suitable for ice cream or any cold dessert, but is apt to crack if intensely hot food is put on it. =details of etiquette at luncheons= gentlemen leave their coats, hats, sticks, in the hall; ladies leave heavy outer wraps in the hall, or dressing-room, but always go into the drawing-room with their hats and gloves on. they wear their fur neck pieces and carry their muffs in their hands, if they choose, or they leave them in the hall or dressing-room. but fashionable ladies _never_ take off their hats. even the hostess herself almost invariably wears a hat at a formal luncheon in her own house, though there is no reason why she should not be hatless if she prefers, or if she thinks she is prettier without! guests, however, do not take off their hats at a lunch party even in the country. they take off their gloves at the table, or sooner if they choose, and either remove or turn up, their veils. the hostess does not wear gloves, ever. it is also very unsuitable for a hostess to wear a face veil in her own house, unless there is something the matter with her face, that must not be subjected to view! a hostess in a veil does not give her guests the impression of "veiled beauty," but the contrary. guests, on the other hand, may with perfect fitness keep their veils on throughout the meal, merely fastening the lower edge up over their noses. they must _not_ allow a veil to hang loose, and carry food under and behind it, nor must they eat with gloves on. a veil kept persistently over the face, and gloves kept persistently over the hands, means one thing: ugliness behind. so unless you have to--don't! the wearing of elaborate dresses at luncheons has gone entirely out of fashion; and yet one does once in a while see an occasional lady--rarely a new yorker--who outshines a bird of paradise and a jeweler's window; but new york women of distinction wear rather simple clothes--simple meaning untrimmed, not inexpensive. very conspicuous clothes are chosen either by the new rich, to assure themselves of their own elegance--which is utterly lacking--or by the muttons dressed lamb-fashion, to assure themselves of their own youth--which alas, is gone! gentlemen at luncheon in town on a sunday wear cutaway coats; in other words, what they wear to church. on a saturday, they wear their business suits, sack coat with either stiff or pleated-bosom shirts, and a starched collar. in the country, they wear country clothes. [illustration: "at an informal dinner the table appointments are equally fine and beautiful, though possibly not quite so rare." [page .]] =what the servants wear= a butler wears his "morning" clothes; cutaway coat, gray striped trousers, high black waistcoat, black tie. a "hired waiter" wears a dress suit, but never a butler in a "smart" house; he does not put on his evening clothes until after six o'clock. in a smart house, the footmen wear their dress liveries, and a waitress and other maids wear their best uniforms. =the guests leave= the usual lunch hour is half past one. by a quarter to three the last guest is invariably gone, unless, of course, it is a bridge luncheon, or for some other reason they are staying longer. from half an hour to three-quarters at the table, and from twenty minutes to half an hour's conversation afterwards, means that by half past two (if lunch was prompt) guests begin leaving. once in a while, especially at a mixed lunch where perhaps talented people are persuaded to become "entertainers" the audience stays on for hours! but such parties are so out of the usual that they have nothing to do with the ordinary procedure, which is to leave about twenty minutes after the end of the meal. the details for leaving are also the same as for dinners. one lady rises and says good-by, the hostess rises and shakes hands and rings a bell (if necessary) for the servant to be in the hall to open the door. when one guest gets up to go, the others invariably follow. they say "good-by" and "thank you so much." or, at a little luncheon, intimate friends often stay on indefinitely; but when lunching with an acquaintance one should never stay a moment longer than the other guests. the guest who sits on and on, unless earnestly pressed to do so, is wanting in tact and social sense. if a hostess invites a stranger who might by any chance prove a barnacle, she can provide for the contingency by instructing her butler or waitress to tell her when her car is at the door. she then says: "i had to have the car announced, because i have an appointment at the doctor's. do wait while i put on my things--i shall be only a moment! and i can take you wherever you want to go!" this expedient should not be used when a hostess has leisure to sit at home, but on the other hand, a guest should never create an awkward situation for her hostess by staying too long. in the country where people live miles apart, they naturally stay somewhat longer than in town. or two or three intimate friends who perhaps (especially in the country) come to spend the day, are not bound by rules of etiquette but by the rules of their own and their hostess' personal preference. they take off their hats or not as they choose, and they bring their sewing or knitting and sit all day, or they go out and play games, and in other ways behave as house-guests rather than visitors at luncheon. the only rule about such an informal gathering as this is, that no one should ever go and spend the day and make herself at home unless she is in the house of a really very intimate friend or relative, or unless she has been especially and specifically invited to do that very thing. =the stand-up luncheon= this is nothing more nor less than a buffet lunch. it is popular because it is a very informal and jolly sort of party--an indoor picnic really--and never attempted except among people who know each other well. the food is all put on the dining table and every one helps himself. there is always bouillon or oyster stew or clam chowder. the most "informal" dishes are suitable for this sort of a meal, as for a picnic. there are two hot dishes and a salad, and a dessert which may be, but seldom is, ice cream. stand-up luncheons are very practical for hostesses who have medium sized houses, or when an elastic number of guests are expected at the time of a ball game, or other event that congregates a great many people. a hunt breakfast is usually a stand-up luncheon. it is a "breakfast" by courtesy of half an hour in time. at twelve-thirty it is breakfast, at one o'clock it is lunch. regular weekly stand-up luncheons are given by hospitable people who have big places in the country and encourage their friends to drive over on some especial day when they are "at home"--saturdays or sundays generally--and intimate friends drop in uninvited, but always prepared for. on such occasions, luncheon is made a little more comfortable by providing innumerable individual tables to which people can carry the plates, glasses or cups and sit down in comfort. =suppers= supper is the most intimate meal there is, and since none but family or closest friends are ever included, invitations are invariably by word of mouth. the atmosphere of a luncheon is often formal, but informal luncheons and suppers differ in nothing except day and evening lights, and clothes. strangers are occasionally invited to informal luncheons, but only intimate friends are bidden to supper. =the supper table= the table is set, as to places and napery, exactly like the lunch table, with the addition of candlesticks or candelabra as at dinner. where supper differs from the usual lunch table is that in front of the hostess is a big silver tea-tray with full silver service for tea or cocoa or chocolate or breakfast coffee, most often chocolate or cocoa and either tea or coffee. at the host's end of the table there is perhaps a chafing dish--that is, if the host fancies himself a cook! a number of people whose establishments are not very large, have very informal sunday night suppers on their servants' sundays out, and forage for themselves. the table is left set, a cold dish of something and salad are left in the icebox; the ingredients for one or two chafing dish specialties are also left ready. at supper time a member of the family, and possibly an intimate friend or two, carry the dishes to the table and make hot toast on a toaster. this kind of supper is, in fact as well as spirit, an indoor picnic; thought to be the greatest fun by the kindharts, but little appreciated by the gildings, which brings it down, with so many other social customs, to a mere matter of personal taste. chapter xvii balls and dances a ball is the only social function in america to which such qualifying words as splendor and magnificence can with proper modesty of expression be applied. even the most elaborate wedding is not quite "a scene of splendor and magnificence" no matter how luxurious the decorations or how costly the dress of the bride and bridesmaids, because the majority of the wedding guests do not complete the picture. a dinner may be lavish, a dance may be beautiful, but a ball alone is prodigal, meaning, of course, a private ball of greatest importance. on rare occasions, a great ball is given in a private house, but since few houses are big enough to provide dancing space for several hundred and sit-down supper space for a greater number still, besides smoking-room, dressing-room and sitting-about space, it would seem logical to describe a typical ball as taking place in the ballroom suite built for the purpose in nearly all hotels. =a hostess prepares to give a ball= the hostess who is not giving the ball in her own house goes first of all to see the manager of the hotel (or of whatever suitable assembly rooms there may be) and finds out which evenings are available. she then telephones--probably from the manager's office--and engages the two best orchestras for whichever evening both the orchestras and the ballroom are at her disposal. of the two, music is of more importance than rooms. with perfect music the success of a ball is more than three-quarters assured; without it, the most beautiful decorations and most delicious supper are as flat as a fallen soufflé. you cannot give a ball or a dance that is anything but a dull promenade if you have dull music. to illustrate the importance that prominent hostesses attach to music: a certain orchestra in new york to-day is forced to dash almost daily, not alone from party to party, but from city to city. time and again its leader has conducted the music at a noon wedding in philadelphia, and a ball in boston; or a dancing tea in providence and a ball that evening in new york; because boston, providence, new york and philadelphia hostesses all at the present moment clamor for this one especial orchestra. the men have a little more respite than the leader since it is his "leading" that every one insists upon. tomorrow another orchestra will probably make the daily tour of various cities' ballrooms. at all balls, there must be two orchestras, so that each time one finishes playing the other begins. at very dignified private balls, dancers should not stand in the middle of the floor and clap as they do in a dance hall or cabaret if the music ends. on the other hand, the music should not end. having secured the music and engaged the ballroom, reception rooms, dressing-rooms and smoking-room, as well as the main restaurant (after it is closed to the public), the hostess next makes out her list and orders and sends out her invitations. =invitations= the fundamental difference between a ball and a dance is that people of all ages are asked to a ball, while only those of approximately one age are asked to a dance. once in a while a ball is given to which the hostess invites every person on her visiting list. mr. and mrs. titherington de puyster give one every season, which although a credit to their intentions is seldom a credit to their sense of beauty! snobbish as it sounds and _is_, a brilliant ball is necessarily a collection of brilliantly fashionable people, and the hostess who gathers in all the oddly assorted frumps on the outskirts of society cannot expect to achieve a very distinguished result. ball invitations properly include all of the personal friends of the hostess no matter what their age, and all her better-known social acquaintances--meaning every one she would be likely to invite to a formal dinner. she does not usually invite a lady with whom she may work on a charitable committee, even though she may know her well, and like her. the question as to whether an outsider may be invited is not a matter of a hostess' own inclination so much as a question whether the "outsider" would be agreeable to all the "insiders" who are coming. if the co-worker is in everything a lady and a fitting ornament to society, the hostess might very possibly ask her. if the ball to be given is for a débutante, all the débutantes whose mothers are on the "general visiting list" are asked as well as all young dancing men in these same families. in other words the children of all those whose names are on the general visiting list of a hostess are selected to receive invitations, but the parents on whose standing the daughters and sons are asked, are rarely invited. _when a list is borrowed_ a lady who has a débutante daughter, but who has not given any general parties for years--or ever, and whose daughter, having been away at boarding-school or abroad, has therefore very few acquaintances of her own, must necessarily in sending out invitations to a ball take the list of young girls and men from a friend or a member of her family. this of course could only be done by a hostess whose position is unquestioned, but having had no occasion to keep a young people's list, she has not the least idea who the young people of the moment are, and takes a short-cut as above. otherwise she would send invitations to children of ten and spinsters of forty, trusting to their being of suitable age. to take a family or intimate friend's list is also important to the unaccustomed hostess, because to leave out any of the younger set who "belong" in the groups which are included, is not the way to make a party a success. those who don't find their friends go home, or stay and are bored, and the whole party sags in consequence. so that if a hostess knows the parents personally of, let us say, eighty per cent. of young society, she can quite properly include the twenty per cent. she does not know, so that the hundred per cent. can come together. in a small community it is rather cruel to leave out any of the young people whose friends are all invited. in a very great city on the other hand, an habitual hostess does not ask any to her house whom she does not know, but she can of course be as generous as she chooses in allowing young people to have invitations for friends. _asking for an invitation to a ball_ it is always permissible to ask a hostess if you may "bring" a dancing man who is a stranger to her. it is rather difficult to ask for an invitation for an extra girl, and still more difficult to ask for older people, because the hostess has no ground on which she can refuse without being rude; she can't say there is no room since no dance is really limited, and least of all a ball. men who dance are always an asset, and the more the better; but a strange young girl hung around the neck of the hostess is about as welcome as a fog at a garden party. if the girl is to be brought and "looked after" by the lady asking for the invitation--who has herself been already invited--that is another matter, and the hostess can not well object. or if the young girl is the fiancée of the man whose mother asks for the invitation, that is all right too; since he will undoubtedly come with her and see that she is not left alone. invitations for older people are never asked for unless they are rather distinguished strangers and unquestionably suitable. invitations are never asked for persons whom the hostess already knows, since if she had cared to invite them she would have done so. it is, however, not at all out of the way for an intimate friend to remind her of some one who in receiving no invitation has more than likely been overlooked. if the omission was intentional, nothing need be said; if it was an oversight, the hostess is very glad to repair her forgetfulness. _invitations for strangers_ an invitation that has been asked for a stranger is sent direct and without comment. for instance, when the greatlakes of chicago came to new york for a few weeks, mrs. norman asked both mrs. worldly and mrs. gilding to send them invitations; one to a musicale and the other to a ball. the greatlakes received these invitations without mrs. norman's card enclosed or any other word of explanation, as it was taken for granted that mrs. norman would tell the greatlakes that it was through her that the invitations were sent. the greatlakes said "thank you very much for asking us" when they bid their hostess good night, and they also left their cards immediately on the worldlys and gildings after the parties--but it was also the duty of mrs. norman to thank both hostesses--verbally--for sending the invitations. =decorations= so far as good taste is concerned, the decorations for a ball cannot be too lavish or beautiful. to be sure they should not be lavish if one's purse is limited, but if one's purse is really limited, one should not give a ball! a small dance or a dancing tea would be more suitable. ball decorations have on occasions been literally astounding, but as a rule no elaboration is undertaken other than hanging greens and flowers over the edge of the gallery, if there is a gallery, banking palms in corners, and putting up sheaves of flowers or trailing vines wherever most effective. in any event the hostess consults her florist, but if the decorations are to be very important, an architect or an artist is put in charge, with a florist under him. =the ball beautiful= certain sounds, perfumes, places, always bring associated pictures to mind: restaurant suppers; paris! distinguished-looking audiences; london! the essence of charm in society; rome! beguiling and informal joyousness; san francisco! recklessness; colorado springs! the afternoon visit; washington! hectic and splendid gaiety; new york! beautiful balls; boston! there are three reasons (probably more) why the balls in boston have what can be described only by the word "quality." the word "elegance" before it was misused out of existence expressed it even better. first: best society in boston having kept its social walls intact, granting admission only to those of birth and breeding, has therefore preserved a quality of unmistakable cultivation. there are undoubtedly other cities, especially in the south, which have also kept their walls up and their traditions intact--but boston has been the wise virgin as well, and has kept her lamp filled. second: boston hostesses of position have never failed to demand of those who would remain on their lists, strict obedience to the tenets of ceremonies and dignified behavior; nor ceased themselves to cultivate something of the "grand manner" that should be the birthright of every thoroughbred lady and gentleman. third: boston's older ladies and gentlemen always dance at balls, and they neither rock around the floor, nor take their dancing violently. and the fact that older ladies of distinction dance with dignity, has an inevitable effect upon younger ones, so that at balls at least, dancing has not degenerated into gymnastics or contortions. the extreme reverse of a "smart" boston ball is one--no matter where--which has a roomful of people who deport themselves abominably, who greet each other by waving their arms aloft, who dance like apaches or jiggling music-box figures, and who scarcely suggest an assemblage of even decent--let alone well-bred--people. =supper= a sit-down supper that is served continuously for two or three hours, is the most elaborate ball supper. next in importance is the sit-down supper at a set time. third, the buffet supper which is served at dances but not at balls. at the most fashionable new york balls, supper service begins at one and continues until three and people go when they feel like it. the restaurant is closed to the public at one o'clock; the entrance is then curtained or shut off from the rest of the hotel. the tables are decorated with flowers and the supper service opened for the ball guests. guests sit where they please, either "making up a table," or a man and his partner finding a place wherever there are two vacant chairs. at a private ball guests do not pay for anything or sign supper checks, or tip the waiter, since the restaurant is for the time being the private dining-room of the host and hostess. at a sit-down supper at a set hour, the choice of menu is unlimited, but suppers are never as elaborate now as they used to be. years ago few balls were given without terrapin, and a supper without champagne was as unheard of. in fact, champagne was the heaviest item of expenditure always. decorations might be very limited, but champagne was as essential as music! cotillion favors were also an important item which no longer exists; and champagne has gone its way with nectar, to the land of fable, so that if you eliminate elaborate decorations, ball-giving is not half the expense it used to be. =for a sit-down supper that is continuous= when the service of supper continues for several hours, it is necessary to select food that can be kept hot indefinitely without being spoiled. birds or broiled chicken, which should be eaten the moment they are cooked, are therefore unsuitable. dishes prepared in sauce keep best, such as lobster newburg, sweetbreads and mushrooms, chicken à la king, or creamed oysters. pâtés are satisfactory as the shells can be heated in a moment and hot creamed chicken or oysters poured in. of course all cold dishes and salads can stand in the pantry or on a buffet table all evening. the menu for supper at a ball is entirely a matter of the hostess' selection, but whether it is served at one time or continuously, the supper menu at an important ball includes: . bouillon or green turtle (clear) in cups. . lobster a la newburg (or terrapin or oyster pâté or another hot dish of shell-fish or fowl). . a second choice hot dish of some sort, squab, chicken and peas (if supper is served at a special hour) or croquettes and peas if continuous. . salad, which includes every variety known, with or without an aspic. . individual ices, fancy cakes. . black coffee in little cups. breakfast served at about four in the morning and consisting of scrambled eggs with sausages or bacon and breakfast coffee and rolls is an occasional custom at both dances and balls. there is always an enormous glass bowl of punch or orangeade--sometimes two or three bowls each containing a different iced drink--in a room adjoining the ballroom. and in very cold climates it is the thoughtful custom of some hostesses to have a cup of hot chocolate or bouillon offered each departing guest. this is an especially welcome attention to those who have a long drive home. =a dance= a dance is merely a ball on a smaller scale, fewer people are asked to it and it has usually, but not necessarily, simpler decorations. but the real difference is that invitations to balls always include older people--as many if not more than younger ones--whereas invitations to a dance for a débutante, for instance, include none but very young girls, young men and the merest handful of the hostess' most intimate friends. supper may equally be a simple buffet or an elaborate sit-down one, depending upon the size and type of the house. or a dance may equally well as a ball be given in the "banquet" or smaller ballroom of a hotel, or in the assembly or ballroom of a club. a formal dance differs from an informal one merely in elaboration, and in whether the majority of those present are strangers to one another; a really informal dance is one to which only those who know one another well are invited. =details of preparation for a ball or dance in a private house= there is always an awning and a red carpet down the steps (or up), and a chauffeur to open the carriage doors and a policeman or detective to see that strangers do not walk uninvited into the house. if there is a great crush, there is a detective in the hall to "investigate" anyone who does not have himself announced to the hostess. all the necessary appurtenances such as awning, red carpet, coat hanging racks, ballroom chairs, as well as crockery, glass, napkins, waiters and food are supplied by hotels or caterers. (excepting in houses like the gildings,' where footmen's liveries are kept purposely, the caterer's men are never in footmen's liveries.) unless a house has a ballroom the room selected for dancing must have all the furniture moved out of it; and if there are adjoining rooms and the dancing room is not especially big, it adds considerably to the floor space to put no chairs around it. those who dance seldom sit around a ballroom anyway, and the more informal grouping of chairs in the hall or library is a better arrangement than the wainscot row or wall-flower exposition grounds. the floor, it goes without saying, must be smooth and waxed, and no one should attempt to give a dance whose house is not big enough. =etiquette in the ballroom= new york's invitations are usually for "ten o'clock" but first guests do not appear before ten-thirty and most people arrive at about eleven or after. the hostess, however, must be ready to receive on the stroke of the hour specified in her invitations, and the débutante or any one the ball may be given for, must also be with her. it is not customary to put the débutante's name on the formal "at home" invitation, and it is even occasionally omitted on invitations that "request the pleasure of ----" so that the only way acquaintances can know the ball is being given for the daughter is by seeing her standing beside her mother. mr. & mrs. robert gilding request the pleasure of [name of guest is written here] company on tuesday, the twenty-seventh of december at ten o'clock at the fitz-cherry dancing r.s.v.p. twenty-three east laurel street the hostess never leaves her post, wherever it is she is standing, until she goes to supper. if, as at the ritz in new york, the ballroom opens on a foyer at the head of a stairway, the hostess always receives at this place. in a private house where guests go up in an elevator to the dressing rooms, and then walk down to the ballroom floor, the hostess receives either at the foot of the stairway, or just outside the ballroom. =the hostess at a ball= guests arriving are announced, as at a dinner or afternoon tea, and after shaking hands with the hostess, they must pass on into the ballroom. it is not etiquette to linger beside the hostess for more than a moment, especially if later arrivals are being announced. a stranger ought never go to a ball alone, as the hostess is powerless to "look after" any especial guests; her duty being to stand in one precise place and receive. a stranger who is a particular friend of the hostess would be looked after by the host; but a stranger who is invited through another guest should be looked after by that other. a gentleman who has received an invitation through a friend is usually accompanied by the friend who presents him. otherwise when the butler announces him to the hostess, he bows, and says "mrs. norman asked you if i might come." and the hostess shakes hands and says "how do you do, i am very glad to see you." if other young men or any young girls are standing near, the hostess very likely introduces him. otherwise, if he knows no one, he waits among the stags until his own particular sponsor appears. after supper, when she is no longer receiving, the hostess is free to talk with her friends and give her attention to the roomful of young people who are actually in her charge. when her guests leave she does not go back to where she received, but stands wherever she happens to be, shakes hands and says "good night." there is one occasion when it is better not to bid one's hostess good night, and that is, if one finds her party dull and leaves again immediately; in this one case it is more polite to slip away so as to attract the least attention possible, but late in the evening it is inexcusably ill mannered not to find her and say "good night" and "thank you." the duty of seeing that guests are looked after, that shy youths are presented to partners, that shyer girls are not left on the far wall-flower outposts, that the dowagers are taken in to supper, and that the elderly gentlemen are provided with good cigars in the smoking-room, falls to the host and his son or son-in-law, or any other near male member of the family. =masquerade vouchers= vouchers or tickets of admission like those sent with invitations to assembly or public balls should be enclosed in invitations to a masquerade; it would be too easy otherwise for dishonest or other undesirable persons to gain admittance. if vouchers are not sent with the invitations, or better yet, mailed afterwards to all those who have accepted, it is necessary that the hostess receive her guests singly in a small private room and request each to unmask before her. =how to walk across a ballroom= if you analyze the precepts laid down by etiquette you will find that for each there is a perfectly good reason. years ago a lady never walked across a ballroom floor without the support of a gentleman's arm, which was much easier than walking alone across a very slippery surface in high-heeled slippers. when the late ward mcallister classified new york society as having four hundred people who were "at ease in a ballroom," he indicated that the ballroom was the test of the best manners. he also said at a dinner--after his book was published and the country had already made new york's "four hundred" a theme for cartoons and jests--that among the "four hundred who were at ease," not more than ten could gracefully cross a ballroom floor alone. if his ghost is haunting the ballrooms of our time, it is certain the number is still further reduced. the athletic young woman of to-day strides across the ballroom floor as though she were on the golf course; the happy-go-lucky one ambles--shoulders stooped, arms swinging, hips and head in advance of chest; others trot, others shuffle, others make a rush for it. the young girl who could walk across a room with the consummate grace of mrs. oldname (who as a girl of eighteen was one of mr. mcallister's ten) would have to be very assiduously sought for. how does mrs. oldname walk? one might answer by describing how pavlowa dances. her body is perfectly balanced, she holds herself straight, and yet in nothing suggests a ramrod. she takes steps of medium length, and, like all people who move and dance well, walks from the hip, not the knee. on no account does she swing her arms, nor does she rest a hand on her hip! nor when walking, does she wave her hands about in gesticulation. some one asked her if she had ever been _taught_ to cross a ballroom floor. as a matter of fact, she had. her grandmother, who was a toplofty, made all her grandchildren walk daily across a polished floor with sand-bags on their heads. and the old lady directed the drill herself. no shuffling of feet and no stamping, either; no waggling of hips, no swinging of arms, and not a shoulder stooped. furthermore, they were taught to enter a room and to sit for an indefinite period in self-effacing silence while their elders were talking. older gentlemen still give their arms to older ladies in all "promenading" at a ball, since the customs of a lifetime are not broken by one short and modern generation. those of to-day walk side by side, except in going down to supper when supper is at a set hour. at public balls when there is a grand march, ladies take gentlemen's arms. =distinction vanished with cotillion= the glittering display of tinsel satin favors that used to be the featured and gayest decoration of every ballroom, is gone; the cotillion leader, his hands full of "seat checks," his manners a cross between those of lord chesterfield and a traffic policeman, is gone; and much of the distinction that used to be characteristic of the ballroom is gone with the cotillion. there is no question that a cotillion was prettier to look at than a mob scene of dancers crowding each other for every few inches of progress. the reason why cotillions were conducive to good manners was that people were on exhibition, where now they are unnoticed components of a general crowd. when only a sixth, at most, of those in the room danced while others had nothing to do but watch them, it was only natural that those "on exhibition" should dance as well as they possibly could, and since their walking across the room and asking others to dance by "offering a favor" was also watched, grace of deportment and correct manners were not likely to deteriorate, either. the cotillion was detested and finally banned by the majority who wanted to dance ceaselessly throughout the evening. but it was of particular advantage to the very young girl who did not know many men, as well as to what might be called the helpless type. each young girl, if she had a partner, had a place where she belonged and where she sat throughout the evening. and since no couple could dance longer than the few moments allowed by the "figure," there was no chance of anyone's being "stuck"; so that the average girl had a better chance of being asked to dance than now--when, without programmes, and without cotillions, there is nothing to relieve the permanency of a young man's attachment to an unknown young girl once he asks her to dance. =the ordeal by ballroom= instead of being easier, it would seem that time makes it increasingly difficult for any but distinct successes to survive the ordeal by ballroom. years ago a débutante was supposed to flutter into society in the shadow of mamma's protecting amplitude; to-day she is packed off by herself and with nothing to relieve her dependence upon whoever may come near her. to liken a charming young girl in the prettiest of frocks to a spider is not very courteous; and yet the rôle of spider is what she is forced by the exigencies of ballroom etiquette to play. she _must_ catch a fly, meaning a trousered companion, so as not to be left in placarded disgrace; and having caught him she must hang on to him until another takes his place. there should be drastic revision of ballroom customs. there is a desperate need of what in local dancing classes was called the "dump," where without rudeness a gentleman could leave a lady as soon as they had finished dancing. there used to be a chaperon into whose care a young girl could be committed; there used to be the "dance card", or programme (still in vogue at public balls) that allotted a certain dance to a certain gentleman and lady equally. there used to be the cotillion which, while cruel, at least committed its acts of cruelty with merciful dispatch. when the cotillion began, the girl who had no partner--went home. she had to. now, once she has acquired a companion, he is planted beside her until another takes his place. it is this fact and no other which is responsible for the dread that the average young girl feels in facing the ordeal of a ballroom, and for the discourteous unconcern shown by dancing men who under other conditions would be friendly. the situation of a young girl, left cruelly alone, draws its own picture, but the reason for the callous and ill-mannered behavior of the average dancing man, may perhaps need a word of explanation. for instance: jim smartlington, when he was a senior at college, came down to the toploftys' ball on purpose to see mary smith. very early, before mary arrived, he saw a miss blank, a girl he had met at a dinner in providence, standing at the entrance of the room. following a casual impulse of friendliness he asked her to dance. she danced badly. no one "cut in" and they danced and danced, sat down and danced again. mary arrived. jim walked miss blank near the "stag" line and introduced several men, who bowed and slid out of sight with the dexterity of eels who recognized a hook. from half-past ten until supper at half-past one, jim was "planted." he was then forced to tell her he had a partner for supper, and left her at the door of the dressing-room. there was no other place to "leave her." he felt like a brute and a cad, even though he had waited nearly three hours before being able to speak to the girl he had come purposely to see. there really is something to be said on the man's side; especially on that of one who has to get up early in the morning and who, only intending to see one or two particular friends and then go home, is forced because of an impulse of courtesy not only to spend an endless and exhausting evening, but to be utterly unfit for his work next day. one is equally sorry for the girl! but in the example above her stupid handling of the situation not only spoiled one well-intentioned man's evening, but completely "finished" herself so far as her future chances for success were concerned. not alone her partner but every brother-stag who stood in the doorway mentally placarded her "keep off." it is suicidal for a girl to make any man spend an entire evening with her. if at the end of two dances, there is no intimate friend she can signal to, or an older lady she can insist on being left with, she should go home; and if the same thing happens several times, she should not go to balls. for the reasons given above, there is little that a hostess or host can do, unless a promise of "release" is held out, and that in itself is a deplorable situation; a humiliation that no young girl's name should be submitted to. and yet there it is! it is only necessary for a hostess to say "i want to introduce you to a charming----" and she is already speaking to the air. boston hostesses solve the problem of a young girl's success in a ballroom in a way unknown in new york, by having ushers. =ushers= each hostess chooses from among the best known young men in society, who have perfect address and tact, a number to act as ushers. they are distinguished by white boutonnières, like those worn by ushers at a wedding, and they are deputy hosts. it is their duty to see that wall-flowers are not left decorating the seats in the ballroom and it is also their duty to relieve a partner who has too long been planted beside the same "rosebud." the ushers themselves have little chance to follow their own inclinations, and unless the "honor" of being chosen by a prominent hostess has some measure of compensation, the appointment--since it may not be refused--is a doubtful pleasure. an usher has the right to introduce anyone to anyone without knowing either principal personally and without asking any lady's permission. he may also ask a lady (if he has a moment to himself) to dance with him, whether he has ever met her or not, and he can also leave her promptly, because any "stag" called upon by an usher must dance. the usher in turn must release every "stag" he calls upon by substituting another; and the second by a third and so on. in order to make a ball "go," meaning to keep everyone dancing, the ushers have on occasions to spend the entire evening in relief work. at a ball where there are ushers, a girl standing or sitting alone would at once be rescued by one of them, and a rotation of partners presented to her. if she is "hopeless"--meaning neither pretty nor attractive nor a good dancer--even the ushers are in time forced to relieve her partners and take her to a dowager friend of the hostess, beside whom she will be obliged to sit until she learns that she must seek her popularity otherwhere than at balls. on the other hand, on an occasion when none of her friends happen to be present, the greatest belle of the year can spend an equally deadly evening. =the dance program= the program or dance-card of public balls and college class dances, has undeniable advantages. a girl can give as many dances as she chooses to whomever she chooses; and a man can be sure of having not only many but uninterrupted dances with the one he most wants to be with--provided "she" is willing. why the dance-card is unheard of at private balls in new york is hard to determine, except that fashionable society does not care to take its pleasure on schedule! the gilded youth likes to dance when the impulse moves him; he also likes to be able to stay or leave when he pleases. in new york there are often two or three dances given on the same evening, and he likes to drift from one to the other just as he likes to drift from one partner to another, or not dance at all if he does not want to. a man who writes himself down for the tenth jazz must be eagerly appearing on the stroke of the first bar. or if he does not engage his partners busily at the opening of the evening, he can not dance at all--he may not want to, but he hates not being able to. so again we come back to the present situation and the problem of the average young girl whose right it is, because of her youth and sweetness, to be happy and young--and not to be terrified, wretched and neglected. the one and only solution seems to be for her to join a group. =the flock-system of the wise fledglings= if a number of young girls and young men come together--better yet, if they go everywhere together, always sit in a flock, always go to supper together, always dance with one another--they not only have a good time but they are sure to be popular with drifting odd men also. if a man knows that having asked a girl to dance, one of her group will inevitably "cut in," he is eager to dance with her. or if he can take her "to the others" when they have danced long enough, he is not only delighted to be with her for a while but to sit with her "and the others" off and on throughout that and every other evening, because since there are always "some of them together" he can go again the moment he chooses. certain groups of clever girls sit in precisely the same place in a ballroom, to the right of the door, or the left, or in a corner. one might almost say they form a little club; they dance as much as they like, but come back "home" between whiles. they all go to supper together, and whether individuals have partners or not is scarcely noticeable, nor even known by themselves. no young girl, unless she is a marked favorite, should ever go to a ball alone. if her especial "flock" has not as yet been systematized, she must go to a dinner before every dance, so as to go, and stay, with a group. if she is not asked to dinner, her mother must give one for her; or she must have at least one dependable beau--or better, two--who will wait for her and look out for her. =maid goes with her= a young girl who goes to a ball without a chaperon (meaning of course a private ball), takes a maid with her who sits in the dressing-room the entire evening. not only is it thought proper to have a maid waiting, but nothing can add more to the panic of a partnerless girl than to feel she has not even a means of escape by going home; she can always call a taxi as long as her maid is with her, and go. otherwise she either has to stay in the ballroom or sit forlorn among the visiting maids in the dressing-room. =what makes a young girl a ballroom success= much of the above is so pessimistic one might suppose that a ballroom is always a chamber of torture and the young girl taken as an example above, a very drab and distorted caricature of what "a real young girl" should be and is. but remember, the young girl who is a "belle of the ballroom" needs no advice on how to manage a happy situation; no thought spent on how to make a perfect time better. the ballroom is the most wonderful stage-setting there is for the girl who is a ballroom success. and for this, especial talents are needed just as they are for art or sport or any other accomplishment. the great ballroom success, first and foremost, dances well. almost always she is pretty. beauty counts enormously at a ball. the girl who is beautiful and dances well is, of course, the ideal ballroom belle. but--this for encouragement--these qualities can in a measure at least be acquired. all things being more or less equal, the girl who dances best has the most partners. let a daughter of venus or the heiress of midas dance badly, and she might better stay at home. to dance divinely is an immortal gift, but to dance well can (except in obstinate cases, as the advertisements say) be taught. let us suppose therefore, that she dances well, that she has a certain degree of looks, that she is fairly intelligent. the next most important thing, after dancing well, is to be unafraid, and to look as though she were having a good time. conversational cleverness is of no account in a ballroom; some of the greatest belles ever known have been as stupid as sheep, but they have had happy dispositions and charming and un-self-conscious manners. there is one thing every girl who would really be popular should learn, in fact, she must learn--self-unconsciousness! the best advice might be to follow somewhat the precepts of mental science and make herself believe that a good time exists in her own mind. if she can become possessed with the idea that she is having a good time and look as though she were, the psychological effect is astonishing. ="cutting in"= when one of the "stags" standing in the doorway sees a girl dance past whom he wants to dance with, he darts forward, lays his hand on the shoulder of her partner, who relinquishes his place in favor of the newcomer, and a third in turn does the same to him. or, the one, who was first dancing with her, may "cut in on" the partner who took her from him, after she has danced once around the ballroom. this seemingly far from polite maneuver, is considered correct behavior in best society in boston, new york, philadelphia, buffalo, pittsburgh, chicago, san francisco, and therefore most likely in all parts of america. (not in london, nor on the continent.) at dances organized during the war in the canteens for soldiers and sailors on furlough, the men refused to "cut in" because they thought it was rude and undoubtedly it is, except that custom has made it acceptable. if, however, it still seems "rude" to the young men of othertown to "cut in," then they should not do so. =sitting out dances= on the other hand, if a girl is sitting in another room, or on the stairs with a man alone, a second one should not interrupt, or ask her to dance. if she is sitting in a group, he can go up and ask her, "don't you want to dance some of this?" she then either smiles and says, "not just now--i am very tired," or if she likes him, she may add, "come and sit with us!" to refuse to dance with one man and then immediately dance with another is an open affront to the first one--excusable only if he was intoxicated or otherwise actually offensive so that the affront was both intentional and justifiable. but under ordinary circumstances, if she is "dancing," she must dance with everyone who asks her; if she is "not dancing," she must not make exceptions. an older lady can very properly refuse to dance and then perhaps dance briefly with her son or husband, without hurting her guest's proper pride, but having refused to dance with one gentleman she must not change her mind and dance later with another. a young girl who is dancing may not refuse to change partners when another "cuts in." this is the worst phase of the "cutting in" custom; those who particularly want to dance together are often unable to take more than a dozen steps before being interrupted. once in a while a girl will shake her head "no" to a "stag" who darts toward her. but that is considered rude. a few others have devised dancing with their eyes shut as a signal that they do not want to be "cut in on." but this is neither customary nor even a generally known practise. it is always the privilege of the girl to stop dancing; a man is supposed to dance on and on, until she--or the music--stops. =asking for a dance= when a gentleman is introduced to a lady he says, "may i have some of this?" or "would you care to dance?" a lady never asks a gentleman to dance, or to go to supper with her, though she may if she is older, or if she is a young girl who is one of a "flock," she may say "come and sit at our table!" this however would not imply that in sitting at "their" table he is supposed to sit next to her. in asking a lady to go to supper, a gentleman should say "will you go to supper with me?" or "may i take you to supper?" he should never say, "have you a partner?" as she is put in an awkward position in having to admit that she has none. =a ball is not a dancing school= since a girl may not without rudeness refuse to dance with a man who "cuts in," a man who does not know how to dance is inexcusably inconsiderate if he "cuts in" on a good dancer and compels a young girl to become instructress for his own pleasure with utter disregard of hers. if at home, or elsewhere, a young girl volunteers to "teach" him, that is another matter, but even so, the ballroom is no place to practise--unless he is very sure that his dancing is not so bad as to be an imposition on his teacher. [illustration: the most elaborate dinner-dance ever given in new york "the scene represents the palace and garden at versailles. there were only four tables. singers appeared on the balcony during dinner, other performers danced, sang and juggled on the pathways. after the dinner the pathways of grass were taken up to permit dancing by the guests." [page .]] =novelties and innovations= formal occasions demand strict conventions. at an important wedding, at a dinner of ceremony, at a ball, it is not only bad form but shocking to deviate from accepted standards of formality. "surprize" is an element that must be avoided on all dignified occasions. those therefore, who think it would be original and pleasing to spring surprizes on their guests at an otherwise conventional and formal entertainment, should save their ideas for a children's party where surprizes not only belong, but are delightedly appreciated. to be sure, one might perhaps consider that scenic effects or unusual diversions, such as one sees at a costume ball or a "period" dinner, belong under the head of "surprize." but in the first place such entertainments are not conventional; and in the second, details that are in accordance with the period or design of the ball or dinner are "conventions" after all. on the other hand, in the country especially, nothing can be more fun or more appropriate than a barn dance, or an impromptu play, or a calico masquerade, with properties and clothes made of any old thing and in a few hours--even in a few minutes. music need not be an orchestra but it must be good, and the floor must be adequate and smooth. the supper is of secondary importance. as for manners, even though they may be "unrestrained," they can be meticulously perfect for all that! there is no more excuse for rude or careless or selfish behavior at a picnic than at a ball. =public balls= a public ball is a ball given for a benefit or charity. a committee makes the arrangements and tickets are sold to the public, either by being put on sale at hotels or at the house of the secretary of the committee. a young girl of social position does not go to a public ball without a chaperon. to go in the company of one or more gentlemen would be an unheard-of breach of propriety. =subscription dances and balls= these are often of greater importance in a community than any number of its private balls. in boston and philadelphia for instance, a person's social standing is dependent upon whether or not she or he is "invited to the assemblies." the same was once true in new york when the patriarch and assembly balls were the dominating entertainments. in baltimore too, a man's social standing is non-existent if he does not belong to the "monday germans," and in many other cities membership in the subscription dances or dancing classes or sewing circles distinctly draws the line between the inside somebodies and the outside nobodies. subscription dances such as these are managed and all invitations are issued by patronesses who are always ladies of unquestioned social prominence. usually these patronesses are elected for life, or at least for a long period of years. when for one reason or another a vacancy occurs, a new member is elected by the others to fill her place. no outsider may ever ask to become a member. usually a number of names are suggested and voted on at a meeting, and whoever wins the highest number of votes is elected. the expenses of balls such as assemblies, are borne by the patronesses collectively, but other types of dances are paid for by subscribers who are invited to "take tickets"--as will be explained. _how subscription dances are organized_ whether in city, town or village, the organization is the same: a small group of important ladies decide that it would be agreeable to have two or three balls--or maybe only one--a season. this original group then suggests additional names until they have all agreed upon a list sufficient in size to form a nucleus. these then are invited to join, and all of them at another meeting decide on the final size of the list and whom it is to include. the list may be a hundred, or it may stay at the original group of a half dozen or so. let us for example say the complete list is fifty. fifty ladies, therefore, the most prominent possible, are the patronesses or managers, or whatever they choose to call themselves. they also elect a chairman, a vice-chairman, a secretary, and a treasurer. they then elect seven or eight others who are to constitute the managing committee. the other thirty-eight or forty are merely "members" who will pay their dues and have the right to a certain number of tickets for each of the balls. these tickets, by the way, are never actually sent by the members themselves, who merely submit the names of the guests they have chosen to the committee on invitations. this is the only practical way to avoid duplication. otherwise, let us say that mrs. oldname, mrs. worldly, mrs. norman and mrs. gilding each send their two tickets to the young smartlingtons, which would mean that the smartlingtons would have to return three, and those three invitations would start off on a second journey perhaps to be returned again. on the other hand, if each patroness sends in a list, the top names which have not yet been entered in the "invitation book" are automatically selected, and the committee notify her to whom her invitations went. there is also another very important reason for the sending in of every name to the committee: exclusiveness. otherwise the balls would all too easily deteriorate into the character of public ones. every name must be approved by the committee on invitations, who always hold a special meeting for the purpose, so that no matter how willing a certain careless member would be to include mr. and mrs. unsuitable, she is powerless to send them tickets if they are not approved of. as a matter of fact there is rarely any question of withholding invitations, since a serious objection would have to be sustained against one to warrant such an action on the part of the committee. _number of invitations issued_ with fifty members, each might perhaps be allowed, besides her own ticket, two ladies' invitations and four gentlemen's. that would make three hundred and fifty invitations available altogether. the founders can of course decide on whatever number they choose. patronesses can also exchange tickets. one who might want to ask a double number of guests to the "first assembly" can arrange with another to exchange her "second assembly" invitations for "first" ones. also it often happens that the entire list sent in by a member has already been included, and not wanting to use her tickets, she gives them to another member who may have a débutante daughter and therefore be in need of extra ones. bachelor balls (like the "monday germans" of baltimore) are run by the gentlemen instead of the ladies. otherwise they are the same as the assemblies. _other forms of subscription dances_ other forms are somewhat different in that instead of dividing the expenses between members who jointly issue invitations to few or many guests, the committee of ten, we will say, invites either all the men who are supposed to be eligible or all the young girls, to subscribe to a certain number of tickets. for instance, dances known usually as junior assemblies or the holiday dances are organized by a group of ladies--the mothers, usually, of débutantes. the members of the organization are elected just as the others are, for life. but they are apt after a few years, when their daughters are "too old," to resign in favor of others whose daughters are beginning to be grown. the débutantes of highest social position are invited to become members. each one pays "dues" and has the privilege of asking two men to each dance. mothers are not expected to go to these dances unless they are themselves patronesses. sometimes young women go to these dances until they marry; often they are for débutantes, but most often they are for girls the year before they "come out," and for boys who are in college. _patronesses receive_ at a subscription dance where patronesses take the place of a hostess, about four of these ladies are especially selected by the ball committee to receive. they always stand in line and bow to each person who is announced, but do not shake hands. the guest arriving also bows to the hostesses collectively (not four times). a lady, for instance, is announced: she takes a few steps toward the "receiving line" and makes a slight courtesy; the ladies receiving make a courtesy in unison, and the guest passes on. a gentleman bows ceremoniously, the way he was taught in dancing school, and the ladies receiving incline their heads. chapter xviii the dÉbutante =how a young girl is presented to society= any one of various entertainments may be given to present a young girl to society. the favorite and most elaborate of these, but possible only to parents of considerable wealth and wide social acquaintance, is a ball. much less elaborate, but equal in size, and second in favor to-day, is an afternoon tea with dancing. third, and gaining in popularity, is a small dance, which presents the débutante to the younger set and a few of her mother's intimate friends. fourth, is a small tea without music. fifth, the mere sending out of the mother's visiting card with the daughter's name engraved below her own, announces to the world that the daughter is eligible for invitations. =a ball for a dÉbutante= a ball for a débutante differs in nothing from all other balls excepting that the débutante "receives" standing beside the hostess, and furthest from the entrance, whether that happens to be on the latter's right or left. the guests as they mount the stairs or enter the ballroom and are "announced," approach the hostess first, who, as she shakes hands with each, turns to the débutante and says "mrs. worldly, my daughter." or "cynthia, i want to present you to mrs. worldly." ("want to" is used on this occasion because "may i" is too formal for a mother to say to her child.) a friend would probably know the daughter; in any event the mother's introduction would be, "you remember cynthia, don't you?" each arriving guest always shakes hands with the débutante as well as with the hostess, and if there is a queue of people coming at the same time, there is no need of saying anything beyond "how do you do?" and passing on as quickly as possible. if there are no others entering at the moment, each guest makes a few pleasant remarks. a stranger, for instance, would perhaps comment on how lovely, and many, the débutante's bouquets are, or express a hope that she will enjoy her winter, or talk for a moment or two about the "gaiety of the season" or "the lack of balls," or anything that shows polite interest in the young girl's first glimpse of society. a friend of her mother might perhaps say "you look too lovely, cynthia dear, and your dress is enchanting!" personal compliments, however, are proper only from a close friend. no acquaintance, unless she is quite old, should ever make personal remarks. an old lady or gentleman might very forgivably say "you don't mind, my dear, if i tell you how sweet i think you look," or "what a pretty frock you have on." but it is bad taste for a young woman to say to another "what a handsome dress you have on!" and worst of all to add "where did you get it?" the young girl's particular friends are, of course, apt to tell her that her dress is wonderful, or more likely, "simply divine." it is customary in most cities to send a débutante a bouquet at her "coming out" party. they may be "bouquets" really, or baskets, or other decorative flowers, and are sent by relatives, friends of the family, her father's business associates, as well as by young men admirers. these "bouquets" are always banked near and if possible, around the place the débutante stands to receive. if she has great quantities, they are placed about the room wherever they look most effective. the débutante usually holds one of the bouquets while receiving, but she should remember that her choice of this particular one among the many sent her is somewhat pointed to the giver, so that unless she is willing to acknowledge one particular beau as "best" it is wiser to carry one sent by her father, or brother, especially if either send her one of the tiny bouquets that have been for a year or two in fashion, and are no weight to hold. these bouquets are about as big around as an ordinary saucer, and just as flat on top as a saucer placed upside down. the flowers chosen are rosebuds or other compact flowers, massed tightly together, and arranged in a precise pattern; for instance, three or four pink rosebuds are put in the center, around them a row of white violets, around these a single row of the pink roses, surrounded again by violets, and so on for four or five rows. the bouquet is then set in stiff white lace paper, manufactured for the purpose, the stems wrapped in white satin ribbon, with streamers of white and pink ribbons about a quarter of an inch wide and tied to hang twenty inches or so long. the colors and patterns in which these little bouquets may be made are unlimited. =the dÉbutante receives= at a ball, where the guests begin coming about half past ten, the débutante must stand beside the hostess and "receive" until at least twelve o'clock--later if guests still continue to arrive. at all coming-out parties, the débutante invites a few of her best girl friends to receive with her. whether the party is in the afternoon or evening, these young girls wear evening dresses and come early and stay late. their being asked to "receive" is a form of expression merely, as they never stand in line, and other than wearing pretty clothes and thus adding to the picture, they have no "duties" whatsoever. =at supper= the débutante goes to supper with a partner who has surely spoken for the privilege weeks or even months beforehand. but the rest of her own table is always made up by herself; that is, it includes the young girls who are her most intimate friends, and their supper partners. her table is usually in the center of the dining-room, but, there is no especial decoration to distinguish it, except that it is often somewhat larger than the other tables surrounding it, and a footman or waiter is detailed to tell any who may attempt to take it, that it is "reserved." after supper the débutante has no duties and is free to enjoy herself. the afternoon tea with dancing is described in the chapter on teas and needs no further comment, since its etiquette is precisely the same as that for a ball. the débutante's bouquets are arranged as effectively as possible, and she receives with her mother, or whoever the hostess may be, until the queue of arriving guests thins out, after which she need be occupied with nothing but her own good time, and that of her friends. those of smaller means, or those who object to hotel rooms, ask only younger people, and give the tea in their own house. where there are two rooms on a floor--drawing-room in front, dining-room back, and a library on the floor above, the guests are received in the drawing-room, but whether they dance in the dining-room or up in the library, depends upon which room is the larger. in either case the furniture is moved out. if possible the smallest room should be used to receive in, the largest to dance in, and the tea-table should be set in the medium one. =how many guests may one ask?= a hostess should never try to pack her house beyond the limits of its capacity. this question of how many invitations may safely be sent out is one which each hostess must answer for herself, since beyond a few obvious generalities no one can very well advise her. taking a hostess of "average" social position, who is bringing out a daughter of "average" attractiveness and popularity, it would be safe to say that every débutante and younger man asked to a party of any kind where there is dancing, will accept, but that not more than from half to one-third of the older people asked will put in an appearance. =lavish parties giving way to simple ones= a ball, by the way, is always a general entertainment, meaning that invitations are sent to the entire dinner list--not only actual but potential--of the host and hostess, as well as to the younger people who are either themselves friends of the débutante, or daughters and sons of the friends, and acquaintances of the hostess. a dance differs from a ball in that it is smaller, less elaborate and its invitations are limited to the contemporaries of the débutante, or at most the youngest married set. invitations to a tea are even more general and should include a hostess' entire visiting list, irrespective of age or even personal acquaintance. the old-fashioned visiting list of the young hostess included the entire list of her mother, plus that of her mother-in-law, to which was added all the names acquired in her own social life. it can easily be seen that this list became a formidable volume by the time her daughter was old enough to "come out," and yet this entire list was supposed to be included in all "general" invitations! in the present day, however, at least in new york, there is a growing tendency to eliminate these general or "impersonal" invitations. in smartest society, it is not even considered necessary that a "general" entertainment be given to introduce a daughter. in new york last winter there were scarcely a dozen private balls all told. many of the most fashionable (and richest) hostesses gave dances limited to young girls of their daughters' ages and young dancing men. even at many of the teas-with-dancing none but young people were asked. anyone who likes to sit on the bank and watch the tides of fashion rise and fall, cannot fail to notice that big and lavish entertainments are dwindling, and small and informal ones increasing. it is equally apparent, contrary to popular opinion, that extravagance of expenditure is growing less and less. it is years since any one has given such a ball, for instance, as the venetian fête the gildings gave to bring out their eldest daughter, when the entire first floor of the fitz-cherry was turned into a replica of venice--canals, gondolas, and all. or the persian ball of the vanstyles where the whole house was hung, as a background for oriental costumes, with copper-gold draperies, against which stood at intervals maxfield parrish cypress trees. or the moonlight dance of the worldlys which was not a fancy dress one, but for which the ballroom was turned into a garden scene, lighted by simulated moonlight that would have added to the renown of belasco. such entertainments as these seem almost "out of key" with the attitude of to-day. for although fancy-dress and elaborate parties are occasionally given, they are not usually given for débutantes, nor on the scale of those mentioned above. =the dÉbutante's dress= at a ball, the débutante wears her very prettiest ball dress. old-fashioned sentiment prefers that it be white, and of some diaphanous material, such as net or gauze or lace. it ought not to look overelaborate, even though it is spangled with silver or crystal or is made of sheer lace. it should suggest something light and airy and gay and, above all, young. for a young girl to whom white is unbecoming, a color is perfectly suitable as long as it is a pale shade. she should not wear strong colors such as red, or yale blue, and on no account black! her mother, of course, wears as handsome a ball dress as possible, and "all her jewels." at an afternoon tea the débutante wears an evening dress--a very simple evening dress, but an evening dress all the same. usually a very pale color, and quite untrimmed, such as she might wear at home for dinner. her mother wears an afternoon dress, not an evening one. both mother and daughter wear long gloves, and neither they, nor the young girls receiving, wear hats. to describe the details of clothes is futile. almost before this page comes from the printer, the trend may quite likely change. but the tendency of the moment is toward greater simplicity--in effect at all events. =in confidence to a dÉbutante= let us pretend a worldly old godmother is speaking, and let us suppose that you are a young girl on the evening of your coming-out ball. you are excited, of course you are! it is your evening, and you are a sort of little princess! there is music, and there are lights, and there are flowers everywhere--a great ballroom massed with them, tables heaped with bouquets--all for you! you have on an especially beautiful dress--one that was selected from among many others, just because it seemed to you the prettiest. even your mother and married sister who, "_en grande tenue_," have always seemed to you dazzling figures, have for the moment become, for all their brocades and jewels, merely background; and you alone are the center of the picture. up the wide staircase come throngs of fashionables--who mean "the world." they are coming on purpose to bow to you! you can't help feeling that the glittering dresses, the tiaras, the ropes of pearls and chains of diamonds of the "dowagers," the stiff white shirt-fronts and boutonnières and perfectly fitting coats of the older gentlemen, as well as the best clothes of all the younger people, were all put on for you. you shake hands and smile sweetly to a number of older ladies and shake hands with an equal number of gentlemen, all very politely and properly. then suddenly, half way up the stairs you see betty and anne and fred and ollie. of course your attention is drawn to them. you are vaguely conscious that the butler is shouting some stupid name you never heard of--that you don't care in the least about. your mother's voice is saying "mrs. zzzzzz----," impatiently you give your hand to someone--you haven't the slightest idea who it is. so far as your interest is concerned, you might as well be brushing away annoying flies. your smiles are directed to betty and anne. as they reach the top of the stairs you dart forward and enter into an excited conversation, deliberately overlooking a lady and gentleman who, without trying further to attract your attention, pass on. later in the winter you will perhaps wonder why you alone among your friends are never asked to great estates. the lady and gentleman of whom you are so rudely unaware, happen to be mr. and mrs. worldly, and you have entirely forgotten that you are a hostess, and furthermore that you have the whole evening, beginning at supper, when you can talk to these friends of yours! you can dance with fred and ollie and jimmy all the rest of the evening; you can spend most of your time with them for the rest of your life if you and they choose. but when you are out in public, above all at a party which is for _you_, your duty in commonest civility is to overcome your impulses, and behave as a grown-up person--and a well-bred grown-up person at that! it takes scarcely more than ten seconds to listen to the name that is said to you, to look directly and attentively at the one to whom the name belongs, to put out your hand firmly as you would take hold of something you like, (not something that you feel an aversion to), and with a smile say "how do you do." at your ball your mother says "mrs. worldly, my daughter." you look directly at mrs. worldly, put out your hand, say "how do you do, mrs. worldly." and she passes on. it takes no longer to be cordial and attentive than to be distrait and casual and rude, yet the impression made in a few seconds of actual time may easily gain or lose a friend for life. when no other guests are arriving, you can chatter to your own friends as much as you like, but as you turn to greet another stranger, you must show pleasure, not annoyance, in giving him your attention. a happy attitude to cultivate is to think in your own mind that new people are all packages in a grab-bag, and that you can never tell what any of them may prove to be until you know what is inside the outer wrappings of casual appearances. to be sure, the old woman of the fairy tale, who turns out to be a fairy in disguise, is not often met with in real life, but neither is her approximate counterpart an impossibility. as those who have sent you flowers approach, you must thank them; you must also write later an additional note of thanks to older people. but to your family or your own intimate friends, the verbal thanks--if not too casually made--are sufficient. =a few don'ts for dÉbutantes= don't think that because you have a pretty face, you need neither brains nor manners. don't think that you can be rude to anyone and escape being disliked for it. whispering is always rude. whispering and giggling at the same time have no place in good society. everything that shows lack of courtesy toward others is rude. if you would be thought a person of refinement, don't nudge or pat or finger people. don't hold hands or walk arm-about-waist in public. never put your hand on a man, except in dancing and in taking his arm if he is usher at a wedding or your partner for dinner or supper. don't allow anyone to paw you. don't hang on anyone for support, and don't stand or walk with your chest held in, and your hips forward, in imitation of a reversed letter s. don't walk across a ballroom floor swinging your arms. don't talk or laugh loud enough to attract attention, and on no account force yourself to laugh. nothing is flatter than laughter that is lacking in mirth. if you only laugh because something is irresistibly funny, the chances are your laugh will be irresistible too. in the same way a smile should be spontaneous, because you _feel_ happy and pleasant; nothing has less allure than a mechanical grimace, as though you were trying to imitate a tooth-paste advertisement. =where are the "belles" of yesterday?= in olden days and until a comparatively short while ago, a young girl's social success was invariably measured by her popularity in a ballroom. it was the girl who had the most partners, who least frequently sat "against the wall," who carried home the greatest quantity of the baubles known as "favors," who was that evening's and usually the season's belle. but to-day although ballroom popularity is still important as a test by which a young girl's success is measured, it is by no means the beginning and end that it used to be. as repeated several times in this book, the day of the belle is past; beaux belong to the past too. to-day is the day of woman's equality with man, and if in proving her equality she has come down from a pedestal, her pedestal was perhaps a theatrical "property" at best and not to be compared for solid satisfaction with the level ground of the entirely real position she now occupies. a girl's popularity in a ballroom is of importance to be sure, but not greatly more so than the dancing popularity of a youth. there was a time when "wall-flowers" went to balls night after night where they either sat beside a chaperon or spent the evening in the dressing-room in tears. to-day a young girl who finds she is not a ballroom success avoids ballrooms and seeks her success otherwhere. she does not sit in a corner and hope against hope that her "luck will turn" and that prince charming will surely some evening discover her. she sizes up the situation exactly as a boy might size up his own chances to "make" the crew or the football team. =to-day's specialists in success= the girl of to-day soon discovers, if she does not know it already, that to be a ballroom belle it is necessary first of all to dance really well. a girl may be as beautiful as a young diana or as fascinating as circe, but if she is heavy or steps on her first partner's toes, never again will he ask her to dance. and the news spreads in an instant. the girl of to-day therefore knows she must learn to dance well, which is difficult, since dancers are born, not made; or she must go to balls for supper only, or not go to balls at all, _unless_--she plays a really good game of bridge! in which case, her chances for popularity at the bridge tables, which are at all balls to-day, are quite as good as though she were a young pavlowa in the ballroom. or perhaps she skates, or hunts, or plays a wonderful game of tennis or golf, each one of which opens a vista leading to popularity, and the possibilities for a "good time" which was after all the mainspring of old-fashioned ballroom success. and since the day of femininity that is purely ornamental and utterly useless is gone by, it is the girl who does things well who finds life full of interests and of friends and of happiness. the old idea also has passed that measures a girl's popular success by the number of trousered figures around her. it is quality, not quantity, that counts; and the girl who surrounds herself with indiscriminate and possibly "cheap" youths does not excite the envy but the derision of beholders. to the highest type of young girl to-day it makes very little difference whether, in the inevitable "group" in which she is perpetually to be found, there are more men than girls or the opposite. this does not mean that human nature has changed--scarcely! there always are and doubtless always will be any number of women to whom admiration and flirtation is the very breath of their nostrils, who love to parade a beau just as they love to parade a new dress. but the tendencies of the time do not encourage the flirtatious attitude. it is not considered a triumph to have many love affairs, but rather an evidence of stupidity and bad taste. =frankness of to-day= a young man playing tennis with a young girl a generation ago would have been forced patiently to toss her gentle balls and keep his boredom to himself, or he would have held her chin in his hand, while he himself stood shivering for hours in three feet of water, and tried his best to disguise his opinion as to the hopelessness of her ever learning to swim. to-day he would frankly tell her she had better play tennis for a year or two with a "marker" or struggle at swimming by herself, and any sensible girl would take that advice! =for what she really is= instead of depending upon beauty, upon sex-appeal, the young girl who is "the success of to-day" depends chiefly upon her actual character and disposition. it is not even so necessary to do something well as to refrain from doing things badly. if she is not good at sports, or games, or dancing, then she must find out what she is good at and do that! if she is good for nothing but to look in the glass and put rouge on her lips and powder her nose and pat her hair, life is going to be a pretty dreary affair. in other days beauty was worshiped for itself alone, and it has votaries of sorts to-day. but the best type of modern youth does not care for beauty, as his father did; in fact, he doesn't care a bit for it, if it has nothing to "go with it," any more than he cares for butter with no bread to spread it on. beauty _and_ wit, _and_ heart, _and_ other qualifications or attributes is another matter altogether. a gift of more value than beauty, is charm, which in a measure is another word for sympathy, or the power to put yourself in the place of others; to be interested in whatever interests them, so as to be pleasing to them, if possible, but not to occupy your thoughts in futilely wondering what they think about you. would you know the secret of popularity? it is unconsciousness of self, altruistic interest, and inward kindliness, outwardly expressed in good manners. chapter xix the chaperon and other conventions =a gloomy word= of course there are chaperons and chaperons! but it must be said that the very word has a repellent schoolteacherish sound. one pictures instinctively a humorless tyrant whose "correct" manner plainly reveals her true purpose, which is to take the joy out of life. that she can be--and often is--a perfectly human and sympathetic person, whose unselfish desire is merely to smooth the path of one who is the darling of her heart, in nothing alters the feeling of gloom that settles upon the spirit of youth at the mention of the very word "chaperon." =freedom of the chaperoned= as a matter of fact the only young girl who is really "free," is she whose chaperon is never very far away. she need give conventionality very little thought, and not bother about her p's and q's at all, because her chaperon is always a strong and protective defense; but a young girl who is unprotected by a chaperon is in the position precisely of an unarmed traveler walking alone among wolves--his only defense is in not attracting their notice. to be sure the time has gone by when the presence of an elderly lady is indispensable to every gathering of young people. young girls for whose sole benefit and protection the chaperon exists (she does not exist for her own pleasure, youthful opinion to the contrary notwithstanding), have infinitely greater freedom from her surveillance than had those of other days, and the typical chaperon is seldom seen with any but very young girls, too young to have married friends. otherwise a young married woman, a bride perhaps scarcely out of her teens, is, on all ordinary occasions, a perfectly suitable chaperon, especially if her husband is present. a very young married woman gadding about without her husband is not a proper chaperon. there are also many occasions when a chaperon is unnecessary! it is considered perfectly correct for a young girl to drive a motor by herself, or take a young man with her, if her family know and approve of him, for any short distance in the country. she may play golf, tennis, go to the country club, or golf club (if near by), sit on the beach, go canoeing, ride horseback, and take part in the normal sports and occupations of country life. young girls always go to private parties of every sort without their own chaperon, but the fact that a lady issues an invitation means that either she or another suitable chaperon will be present. =the best chaperon herself= ethically the only chaperon is the young girl's own sense of dignity and pride; she who has the right attributes of character needs no chaperon--ever. if she is wanting in decency and proper pride, not even argus could watch over her! but apart from ethics, there are the conventions to think of, and the conventions of propriety demand that very young woman must be protected by a chaperon, because otherwise she will be misjudged. =the resident chaperon= no young girl may live alone. even though she has a father, unless he devotes his entire time to her, she must also have a resident chaperon who protects her reputation until she is married or old enough to protect it herself--which is not until she has reached a fairly advanced age, of perhaps thirty years or over if she is alone, or twenty-six or so if she lives in her father's house and behaves with such irreproachable circumspection that mrs. grundy is given no chance to set tongues wagging. it goes without saying that a chaperon is always a lady, often one whose social position is better than that of her charge; occasionally she is a social sponsor as well as a moral one. her position, if she is not a relative, is very like that of a companion. above all, a chaperon must have dignity, and if she is to be of any actual service, she must be kind of heart and have intelligent sympathy and tact. to have her charge not only care for her, but be happy with her, is the only possible way such a relationship can endure. needless to say a chaperon's own conduct must be irreproachable and her knowledge of the world such as can only be gained by personal experience; but she need not be an old lady! she can perfectly well be reasonably young, and a spinster. very often the chaperon "keeps the house," but she is never called a "housekeeper." nor is she a "secretary" though she probably draws the checks and audits the bills. it is by no means unusual for mothers who are either very gay or otherwise busy, and cannot give most of their time to their grown and growing daughters, to put them in charge of a resident chaperon. often their governess--if she is a woman of the world--gives up her autocracy of the schoolroom and becomes social guardian instead. =the duties of a chaperon= it is unnecessary to say that a chaperon has no right to be inquisitive or interfering unless for a very good reason. if an objectionable person--meaning one who can not be considered a gentleman--is inclined to show the young girl attentions, it is of course her duty to cut the acquaintance short at the beginning before the young girl's interest has become aroused. for just such a contingency as this it is of vital importance that confidence and sympathy exist between the chaperon and her charge. no modern young girl is likely to obey blindly unless she values the opinions of one in whose judgment and affection she has learned to believe. when invitations are sent out by a chaperon usually if a young girl is an orphan, living with a chaperon, a ball or formal party would be given in the name of an aunt or other near relative. if her father is alive, the invitations go out in his name of course, and he receives with her. but if it should happen that she has no near family at all, or if her chaperon is her social sponsor, the chaperon's name can be put on invitations. for example: miss abigail titherington miss rosalie gray will be at home on saturday the fifth of december from four until six o'clock the fitz-cherry rosalie has no very near relatives and miss titherington has brought her up. in sending out the invitations for a dinner (a young girl would not be giving a formal dinner) rosalie telephones her friends "will you dine with me (or us) next monday?" or, "on the sixteenth?" it is not necessary to mention miss titherington because it is taken for granted that she will be present. it is also not considered proper for a young girl ever to be alone as hostess. when she invites young girls and men to her house, miss titherington either "receives" them or comes into the room while they are there. if the time is afternoon, very likely she pours tea and when everyone has been helped, she goes into another room. she does not stay with them ever, but she is never very far away. the chaperon (or a parent) should never go to bed until the last young man has left the house. it is an unforgivable breach of decorum to allow a young girl to sit up late at night with a young man--or a number of them. on returning home from a party, she must not invite or allow a man to "come in for a while." even her fiancé must bid her good night at the door if the hour is late, and some one ought always to sit up, or get up, to let her in. no young girl ought to let herself in with a latch-key. in old-fashioned days no lady had a latch-key. and it is still fitting and proper for a servant to open the door for her. a young girl may not, even with her fiancé, lunch in a road house without a chaperon, or go on a journey that can by any possibility last over night. to go out with him in a small sail-boat sounds harmless enough, but might result in a questionable situation if they are becalmed, or if they are left helpless in a sudden fog. the maine coast, for example, is particularly subject to fogs that often shut down without warning and no one going out on the water can tell whether he will be able to get back within a reasonable time or not. a man and a girl went out from bar harbor and did not get back until next day. everyone knew the fog had come in as thick as pea-soup and that it was impossible to get home; but to the end of time her reputation will suffer for the experience. =a few precepts of convention= at a dinner party given for young people in a private house, a somewhat older sister would be a sufficient chaperon. or the young hostess' mother after receiving the guests may, if she chooses, dine with her husband elsewhere than in the dining-room, the parents' roof being supposedly chaperonage enough. in going to tea in a college man's room, or in a bachelor's apartment, the proper chaperon should be a lady of fairly mature years. to see two or three apparently young people going into a bachelor's quarters would be open to criticism. there are many places which are unsuitable for young girls to go to whether they are chaperoned or not. no well brought up young girl should be allowed to go to supper at a cabaret until she is married, or has passed the age when "very young" can be applied to her. =conventions that change with locality= in new york, for instance, no young girl of social standing may, without being criticized, go alone with a man to the theater. absolutely no lady (unless middle-aged-and even then she would be defying convention) can go to dinner or supper in a restaurant alone with a gentleman. a lady, not young, who is staying in a very dignified hotel, can have a gentleman dine with her. but any married woman, if her husband does not object, may dine alone in her own home with any man she pleases or have a different one come in to tea every day in the week without being criticized. a very young girl may motor around the country alone with a man, with her father's consent, or sit with him on the rocks by the sea or on a log in the woods; but she must not sit with him in a restaurant. all of which is about as upside down as it can very well be. in a restaurant they are not only under the surveillance of many eyes, but they can scarcely speak without being overheard, whereas short-distance motoring, driving, riding, walking or sitting on the seashore has no element of protection certainly. again, though she may not lunch with him in a restaurant, she is sometimes (not always) allowed to go to a moving picture matinée with him! why sitting in the dark in a moving picture theater is allowed, and the restaurant is tabu is very mysterious. older girls and young married women are beginning to lunch with men they know well in some of the new york restaurants, but not in others. in many cities it would be scandalous for a young married woman to lunch with a man not her husband, but quite all right for a young girl and man to lunch at a country club. this last is reasonable because the room is undoubtedly filled with people they know--who act as potential chaperons. nearly everywhere it is thought proper for them to go to a dancing club for tea, if the "club" is managed by a chaperon. as said above, interpretation of what is proper shifts according to locality. even in victorian days it was proper in baltimore for a young girl to go to the theater alone with a man, and to have him see her home from a ball was not only permitted but absolutely correct. ="mrs. grundy"= of course every one has his own portrait of mrs. grundy, and some idea of the personality she shows to him; but has any one ever tried to ferret out that disagreeable old woman's own position; to find out where she lives and why she has nothing to do but meddle in affairs which do not concern her. is she a lady? one would imagine she is not. one would also imagine that she lives in a solid well-repaired square brown stone house with a cupola used as a conning tower and equipped with periscope and telescope and wireless. furthermore, her house is situated on a bleak hill so that nothing impedes her view and that of her two pets, a magpie and a jackal. and the business in life of all three of them is to track down and destroy the good name of every woman who comes within range, especially if she is young and pretty--and unchaperoned! the pretty young woman living alone, must literally follow cinderella's habits. to be out of the house late at night or sitting up, except to study, are imprudences she can not allow herself. if she is a widow her conduct must be above criticism, but if she is young and pretty and divorced, she must literally live the life of a puritan spinster of salem. the magpie never leaves her window sill and the jackal sits on the doormat, and the news of her every going out and coming in, of every one whom she receives, when they come, how long they stay and at what hour they go, is spread broadcast. no unprotected woman can do the least thing that is unconventional without having mrs. grundy shouting to everyone the worst possible things about her. =the bachelor girl= the bachelor girl is usually a worker; she is generally either earning her living or studying to acquire the means of earning her living. her days are therefore sure to be occupied, and the fact that she has little time for the gaiety of life, and that she is a worker, puts her in a somewhat less assailable position. she can on occasion go out alone with a man (not a married one), but the theater she goes to must be of conventional character, and if she dines in a restaurant it is imperative that a chaperon be in the party; and the same is true in going to supper at night. no one could very well criticize her for going to the opera or a concert with a man when neither her nor his behavior hints a lack of reserve. but a girl whose personal dignity is unassailable is not apt to bring censure upon herself, even though the world judges by etiquette, which may often be a false measure. the young woman who wants really to be free from mrs. grundy's hold on her, must either live her own life, caring nothing for the world's opinion or the position it offers, or else be chaperoned. =the bachelor host and the chaperon= barring the one fact that a chaperon must be on hand before young or "single" women guests arrive, and that she may not leave until after those whom she has chaperoned have left, there is no difference whatsoever in an entertainment given at the house of a bachelor and one given by a hostess. a bachelor can give dinners or theater parties or yachting parties or house parties or any parties that a hostess can give. it is unnecessary to say no lady may dine alone in a gentleman's rooms, or house; nor may she dine with a number of gentlemen (unless one of them is her husband, in which case she is scarcely "alone"). but it is perfectly correct for two or more ladies to dine at a gentleman's rooms if one of the ladies is elderly or the husband of one is present. a bachelor entertaining in bachelor's quarters, meaning that he has only a man servant, must be much more punctilious, and must arrange to have the chaperon bring any young woman guests with her, since no young girls could be seen entering bachelor's quarters alone, and have their "good name" survive. if he has a large establishment, including women servants, and if furthermore he is a man whose own reputation is unblemished, the chaperon may be met at his house. but since it is more prudent for young women to arrive under her care, why run the unnecessary risk of meeting mrs. grundy's jackal on the doorstep? at the house of a bachelor such as described above, the chaperon could be a husbandless young married woman, or in other words, the most careless chaperon possible, without ever giving mrs. grundy's magpie cause for ruffling a feather. but no young woman could dine or have tea, no matter how well chaperoned, in the "rooms" of a man of morally bad reputation without running a very unpleasant risk of censure. =a bachelor's house parties= bachelors frequently have house parties at their country places. a married lady whose husband is with her is always the chaperon unless the host's mother or sister may be staying--or living--in his house. there is always something unusually alluring about a bachelor's entertaining. especially his house parties. where do all bachelors get those nice and so very respectable elderly maid servants? they can't all have been their nurses! and a bachelor's house has a something about it that is very comfortable but entirely different from a lady's house, though it would be difficult to define wherein the difference lies. he is perhaps more attentive than a hostess, at least he meets his guests at the station if they come by train, or, if they motor to his house, he goes out on the front steps to greet them as they drive up. a possible reason why bachelors seem to make such good hosts is that only those who have a talent for it make the attempt. there is never any obligation on a gentleman's part to invite ladies to stay with him, whereas it is part of every lady's duty at least occasionally to be a hostess, whether she has talent, or even inclination, for the position or not. a gentleman can return the courtesies of hostesses to him by occasionally sending flowers, or books, or candy, and by showing them polite attention when he meets them out. if a bachelor lives in a house of his own, especially in a country community, he is under the same obligations as any other householder to return the hospitality shown by his neighbors to him. =invitations= the bachelor's invitations are the same as those sent out by a hostess. there is absolutely no difference. his butler or waitress telephones "will mr. and mrs. norman dine with mr. bachelor on wednesday?" or he writes a note or uses the engraved dinner card. in giving an informal dance it is quite correct, according to new york fashion, for him to write on his visiting card: [hw: monday jan.^y ^rd at o'clock] mr. frederick bachelor [hw: small dance] pormanto place or an artist sends his card with his studio address and [hw: saturday april . at o'ck] =mr. anthony dauber= [hw: to hear tonini play] park studio no invitation of a gentleman mentions that there will be a chaperon because that is taken for granted. no gentleman invites ladies of position to a party unless one or many chaperons are to be present. a very young girl never goes even to an unmarried doctor's or a clergyman's (unless the latter is very elderly) without a chaperon, who in this instance may be a semi-elderly maid. a lady having her portrait painted always takes a woman friend, or her maid, who sits in the studio, or at least within sight or hearing. chapter xx engagements =courtship= so long as romance exists and lochinvar remains young manhood's ideal, love at first sight and marriage in a week is within the boundaries of possibility. but usually (and certainly more wisely) a young man is for some time attentive to a young woman before dreaming of marriage. thus not only have her parents plenty of time to find out what manner of man he is, and either accept or take means to prevent a serious situation; but the modern young woman herself is not likely to be "carried away" by the personality of anyone whose character and temperament she does not pretty thoroughly understand and weigh. in nothing does the present time more greatly differ from the close of the last century, than in the unreserved frankness of young women and men towards each other. those who speak of the domination of sex in this day are either too young to remember, or else have not stopped to consider, that mystery played a far greater and more dangerous rôle when sex, like a woman's ankle, was carefully hidden from view, and therefore far more alluring than to-day when both are commonplace matters. in cities twenty-five years ago, a young girl had beaux who came to see her one at a time; they in formal clothes and manners, she in her "company best" to "receive" them, sat stiffly in the "front parlor" and made politely formal conversation. invariably they addressed each other as miss smith and mr. jones, and they "talked off the top" with about the same lack of reservation as the ambassador of one country may be supposed to talk to him of another. a young man was said to be "devoted" to this young girl or that, but as a matter of fact each was acting a rôle, he of an admirer and she of a siren, and each was actually an utter stranger to the other. =friendship and group system= to-day no trace of stilted artificiality remains. the tête-a-tête of a quarter of a century ago has given place to the continual presence of a group. a flock of young girls and a flock of young men form a little group of their own--everywhere they are together. in the country they visit the same houses or they live in the same neighborhood, they play golf in foursomes, and tennis in mixed doubles. in winter at balls they sit at the same table for supper, they have little dances at their own homes, where scarcely any but themselves are invited; they play bridge, they have tea together, but whatever they do, they stay in the pack. in more than one way this group habit is excellent; young women and men are friends in a degree of natural and entirely platonic intimacy undreamed of in their parents' youth. having the habit therefore of knowing her men friends well, a young girl is not going to imagine a stranger, no matter how perfect he may appear to be, anything but an ordinary human man after all. and in finding out his bad points as well as his good, she is aided and abetted, encouraged or held in check, by the members of the group to which she belongs. suppose, for instance, that a stranger becomes attentive to mary; immediately her friends fix their attention upon him, watching him. twenty-five years ago the young men would have looked upon him with jealousy, and the young women would have sought to annex him. to-day their attitude is: "is he good enough for mary?" and, eagle-eyed, protective of mary, they watch him. if they think he is all right he becomes a member of the group. it may develop that mary and he care nothing for each other, and he may fall in love with another member, or he may drift out of the group again or he may stay in it and mary herself marry out of it. but if he is not liked, her friends will not be bashful about telling mary exactly what they think, and they will find means usually--unless their prejudice is without foundation--to break up the budding "friendship" far better than any older person could do. if she is really in love with him and determined to marry in spite of their frankly given opinion, she at least makes her decision with her eyes open. there are also occasions when a young woman is persuaded by her parents into making a "suitable marriage"; there are occasions when a young woman persists in making a marriage in opposition to her parents; but usually a young man either belongs in or joins her particular circle of intimate friends, and one day, it may be to their own surprize, though seldom to that of their intimates, they find that each is the only one in the world for the other, and they become engaged. =first duty of the accepted suitor= if a young man and his parents are very close friends it is more than likely he will already have told them of the seriousness of his intentions. very possibly he has asked his father's financial assistance, or at least discussed ways and means, but as soon as he and she have definitely made up their minds that they want to marry each other, it is the immediate duty of the man to go to the girl's father or her guardian, and ask his consent. if her father refuses, the engagement cannot exist. the man must then try, through work or other proof of stability and seriousness, to win the father's approval. failing in that, the young woman is faced with dismissing him or marrying in opposition to her parents. there are, of course, unreasonable and obdurate parents, but it is needless to point out that a young woman assumes a very great risk who takes her future into her own hands and elopes. but even so, there is no excuse for the most unfilial act of all--deception. the honorable young woman who has made up her mind to marry in spite of her parents' disapproval, announces to them, if she can, that on such and such a day her wedding will take place. if this is impossible, she at least refuses to give her word that she will not marry. the height of dishonor is to "give her word" and then break it. =the approved engagement= usually, however, when the young man enters the study or office of her father, the latter has a perfectly good idea of what he has come to say and, having allowed his attentions, is probably willing to accept his daughter's choice; and the former after announcing that the daughter has accepted him, goes into details as to his financial standing and prospects. if the finances are not sufficiently stable, the father may tell him to wait for a certain length of time before considering himself engaged, or if they are satisfactory to him, he makes no objection to an immediate announcement. in either case, the man probably hurries to tell the young woman what her father has said, and if he has been very frequently at the house, very likely they both tell her mother and her immediate family, or, more likely still, she has told her mother first of all. =his parents call on hers= as soon as the young woman's father accepts the engagement, etiquette demands that the parents of the bridegroom-elect call at once (within twenty-four hours) upon the parents of the bride-to-be. if illness or absence prevents one of them, the other must go alone. if the young man is an orphan, his uncle, aunt or other nearest relative should go in the parents' place. not even deep mourning can excuse the failure to observe this formality. =the engagement ring= it is doubtful if he who carries a solitaire ring enclosed in a little square box and produces it from his pocket upon the instant that she says "yes," exists outside of the moving pictures! as a matter of fact, the accepted suitor usually consults his betrothed's taste--which of course may be gratified or greatly modified, according to the length of his purse--or he may, without consulting her, buy what ring he chooses. a solitaire diamond is the conventional emblem of "the singleness and endurability of the one love in his life," and the stone is supposed to be "pure and flawless" as the bride herself, and their future together--or sentiments equally beautiful. there is also sentiment for a sapphire's "depth of true blue." pearls are supposed to mean tears; emeralds, jealousy; opals, the essence of bad luck; but the ruby stands for warmth and ardor: all of which it is needless to say is purest unfounded superstition. in the present day, precious stones having soared far out of reach of all but the really rich, fashion rather prefers a large semi-precious one to a microscopic diamond. "fashion," however, is merely momentary and local, and the great majority will probably always consider a diamond the only ring to have. it is not obligatory, or even customary, for the girl to give the man an engagement present, but there is no impropriety in her doing so if she wants to, and any of the following articles would be suitable: a pair of cuff links, or waistcoat buttons, or a watch chain, or a key chain, or a cigarette case. probably because the giving of an engagement ring is his particular province, she very rarely gives him a ring or, in fact, any present at all. the engagement ring is worn for the first time "in public" on the day of the announcement. =before announcement= usually a few days before the formal announcement--and still earlier for letters written abroad or to distant states--both young people write to their aunts, uncles, and cousins, and to their most intimate friends, of their engagement, asking them not to tell anyone until the determined date. as soon as they receive the news, all the relatives of the groom-elect must call on the bride. she is not "welcomed by the family" until their cards, left upon her in person, assure her so. she must, of course, return all of these visits, and as soon as possible. if his people are in the habit of entertaining, they should very soon ask her with her fiancé to lunch or to dinner, or after the engagement is publicly announced, give a dinner or tea or dance in her honor. if, on the other hand, they are very quiet people, their calling upon her is sufficient in itself to show their welcome. in case of a recent death in either immediate family, the engagement cannot be publicly announced until the first period of mourning is past. (it is entirely dignified for a private wedding to take place at the bedside of a very ill parent, or soon after a deep bereavement. in that case there is, of course, no celebration, and the service is read in the presence of the immediate families only.) the announcement is invariably made by the parents of the bride-elect. it is a breach of etiquette for a member of the young man's family to tell of the engagement until the formal announcement has been arranged for. =announcement of engagement= on the evening before the day of the announcement, the bride's mother either sends a note, or has some one call the various daily papers by telephone, and says: "i am speaking for mrs. john huntington smith. mr. and mrs. smith are announcing the engagement of their daughter, mary, to mr. james smartlington, son of mr. and mrs. arthur brown smartlington, of arcade avenue." if either the huntington smiths or the arthur smartlingtons are socially prominent, reporters will be sent to get further information. photographs and details, such as entertainments to be given, or plans for the wedding, will probably be asked for. the prejudices of old-fashioned people against giving personal news to papers is rapidly being overcome and not even the most conservative any longer object to a dignified statement of facts, such as mrs. smith's telephone message. it is now considered entirely good form to give photographs to magazines and newspapers, but one should never send them unless specially requested. on the eve of the announcement, a dinner is sometimes given by the young girl's parents, and the news is told by her father, who at about salad course or dessert, proposes the health of his daughter and future son-in-law. =how a health is proposed= the host after directing that all glasses at the table be filled, rises, lifts his own glass and says: "i propose we drink to the health of my daughter mary and the young man she has decided to add permanently to our family, james smartlington." or: "a standing toast: to my mary and to her--jim!" or: "i want you to drink the happiness of a young pair whose future welfare is close to the hearts of all of us: mary (holding up his glass and looking at her) and jim!" (holding it up again and looking at him). every one except mary and jim rises and drinks a swallow or two (of whatever the champagne substitute may be). every one then congratulates the young couple, and jim is called upon for a "speech"! generally rather "fussed," jim rises and says something like: "i--er--we--thank you all very much indeed for all your good wishes," and sits down. or if he is an earnest rather than a shy youth, perhaps he continues: "i don't have to tell you how lucky _i_ am, the thing for me to do is to prove, if i can, that mary has not made the mistake of her life in choosing me, and i hope that it won't be very long before we see you all at our own table with mary at the head of it and i, where i belong, at the foot." or: "i can't make a speech and you know it. but i certainly am lucky and i know it." =when no speech is made= the prevailing custom in new york and other big cities is for the party to be given on the afternoon or evening of the day of announcement. the engagement in this case is never proclaimed to the guests as an assembled audience. the news is "out" and everyone is supposed to have heard it. those who have not, can not long remain ignorant, as the groom-elect is either receiving with his fiancée or brought forward by her father and presented to every one he does not know. everybody congratulates him and offers the bride-to-be good wishes for her happiness. a dinner or other entertainment given to announce an engagement is by no means necessary. "quiet people" very often merely write notes of announcement and say they will be at home on such an afternoon at tea time. the form and detail are exactly the same as on an habitual day at home except that the bride and groom-elect both receive as well as her mother. =parties for the engaged couple= if the families and friends of the young couple are at all in the habit of entertaining, the announcement of an engagement is the signal always for a shower of invitations. the parents of the groom-elect are sure to give a dance, or a "party" of one kind or another "to meet" their daughter-to-be. if the engagement is a short one, their life becomes a veritable dashing from this house to that, and every meal they eat seems to be one given for them by some one. it is not uncommon for a bride-elect to receive a few engagement presents. (these are entirely apart from wedding presents which come later.) a small afternoon teacup and saucer used to be the typical engagement gift, but it has gone rather out of vogue, along with harlequin china in general. engagement presents are usually personal trifles sent either by her own very intimate friends or by members of her fiancé's family as especial messages of welcome to hers--and as such are very charming. but any general fashion that necessitates giving engagement as well as wedding presents may well be looked upon with alarm by those who have only moderately filled pocketbooks! =engaged couple in public= there is said to be still preserved somewhere in massachusetts a whispering reed through the long hollow length of which lovers were wont to whisper messages of tenderness to each other while separated by a room's length and the inevitable chaperonage of the fiancée's entire family. from those days to these is a far cry, but even in this era of liberty and naturalness of impulse, running the gauntlet of people's attention and criticism is no small test of the good taste and sense of a young couple. the hall-mark of so-called "vulgar people" is unrestricted display of uncontrolled emotions. no one should ever be made to feel like withdrawing in embarrassment from the over-exposed privacy of others. the shrew who publicly berates her husband is no worse than the engaged pair who snuggle in public. every one supposes that lovers kiss each other, but people of good taste wince at being forced to play audience at love scenes which should be private. furthermore, such cuddling gives little evidence of the deeper caring--no matter how ardent the demonstration may be. great love is seldom flaunted in public, though it very often shows itself in pride--that is a little obvious, perhaps. there is a quality of protectiveness in a man's expression as it falls on his betrothed, as though she were so lovely a breath might break her; and in the eyes of a girl whose love is really deep, there is always evidence of that most beautiful look of championship, as though she thought: "no one else can possibly know how wonderful he is!" this underlying tenderness and pride which is at the base of the attitude of each, only glints beneath the surface of perfect comradeship. their frank approval of whatever the other may do or say is very charming; and even more so is their obvious friendliness toward all people, of wanting the whole world beautiful for all because it is so beautiful to them. that is love--as it should be! and its evidence is a very sure sign-post pointing to future happiness. =etiquette of engaged people= it is unnecessary to say that an engaged man shows no attention whatever to other women. it should be plain to every one, even though he need not behave like a moon-calf, that "one" is alone in his thoughts. often it so happens that engaged people are very little together, because he is away at work, or for other reasons. rather than sit home alone, she may continue to go out in society, which is quite all right, but she must avoid being with any one man more than another and she should remain visibly within the general circle of her group. it always gives gossip a chance to see an engaged girl sitting out dances with any particular man, and slander is never far away if any evidence of ardor creeps into their regard, even if it be merely "manner," and actually mean nothing at all. =in the backwaters of long engagement= unless the engaged couple are both so young, or by temperament so irresponsible, that their parents think it best for them to wait until time is given a chance to prove the stability of their affection, no one can honestly advocate a long-delayed marriage. where there is no money, it is necessary to wait for better finances. but the old argument that a long engagement was wise in that the young couple were given opportunity to know each other better, has little sense to-day when all young people know each other thoroughly well. a long engagement is trying to everyone--the man, the girl, both families, and all friends. it is an unnatural state, like that of waiting at the station for a train, and in a measure it is time wasted. the minds of the two most concerned are centered upon each other; to them life seems to consist in saying the inevitable good-by. her family think her absent-minded, distrait, aloof and generally useless. his family never see him. their friends are bored to death with them--not that they are really less devoted or loyal, but her men friends withdraw, naturally refraining from "breaking in." he has no time between business and going to see her to stop at his club or wherever friends of his may be. her girl friends do see her in the daytime, but gradually they meet less and less because their interests and hers no longer focus in common. gradually the stream of the social world goes rushing on, leaving the two who are absorbed in each other to drift forgotten in a backwater. he works harder, perhaps, than ever, and she perhaps occupies herself in making things for her trousseau or her house, or otherwise preparing for the more contented days which seem so long in coming. once they are married, they no longer belong in a backwater, but find themselves again sailing in midstream. it may be on a slow-moving current, it may be on a swift,--but their barge sails in common with all other craft on the river of life. _should a long engagement be announced?_ whether to announce an engagement that must be of long duration is not a matter of etiquette but of personal preference. on the general principle that frankness is always better than secretiveness, the situation is usually cleared by announcing it. on the other hand, as illustrated above, the certain knowledge of two persons' absorption in each other always creates a marooned situation. when it is only supposed, but not known, that a man and girl particularly like each other, their segregation is not nearly so marked. =meeting of kinsmen= at some time before the wedding, it is customary for the two families to meet each other. that is, the parents of the groom dine or lunch at the house of the parents of the bride to meet the aunts, uncles and cousins. and then the parents of the bride are asked with the same purpose to the house of the groom-elect. it is not necessary that any intimacy ensue, but it is considered fitting and proper that all the members of the families which are to be allied should be given an opportunity to know one another--at least by sight. =the engaged couple and the chaperon= the question of a chaperon differs with locality. in philadelphia and baltimore, custom permits any young girl to go alone with a young man approved by her family to the theater, or to be seen home from a party. in new york or boston, mrs. grundy would hold up her hands and run to the neighbors at once with the gossip. it is perhaps sufficient to say that if a man is thought worthy to be accepted by a father as his daughter's husband, he should also be considered worthy of trust no matter where he finds himself alone with her. it is not good form for an engaged couple to dine together in a restaurant, but it is all right for them to lunch, or have afternoon tea; and few people would criticize their being at the opera or the theater--unless the performance at the latter was of questionable propriety. they should take a chaperon if they motor to road-houses for meals--and it goes without saying that they cannot go on a journey alone that can possibly last over night. =gifts which may and those which may not be accepted= the fiancée of a young man who is "saving in order to marry," would be lacking in taste as well as good sense were she to encourage or allow him extravagantly to send her flowers and other charming, but wasteful, presents. but on the other hand, if the bridegroom-elect has plenty of means, she may not only accept flowers but anything he chooses to select, except wearing apparel or a motor car or a house and furniture--anything that can be classified as "maintenance." it is perfectly suitable for her to drive his car, or ride his horse, and she may select furniture for their house, which he may buy or have built. but, if she would keep her self-respect, the car must not become hers nor must she live in the house or use its furniture until she is given his name. he may give her all the jewels he can afford, he may give her a fur scarf, but not a fur coat. the scarf is an ornament, the coat is wearing apparel. if she is very poor, she may have to be married in cheese-cloth, or even in the dress she wears usually, but her wedding dress and the clothes she wears away, must not be supplied by the groom or his family. there is one exception: if his mother, for instance, has some very wonderful family lace, or has kept her own wedding dress and has no daughter herself, and it would please her to have her son's wife wear her lace or dress, it is proper for the bride to consent. but it would be starting life on a false basis, and putting herself in a category with women of another class, to be clothed by any man, whether he is soon to be her husband or not. if the engagement should be so unfortunate as to be broken off, the engagement ring and all other gifts of value must be returned. chapter xxi first preparations before a wedding to begin with, before deciding the date of the wedding, the bride's mother must find out definitely on which day the clergyman who is to perform the ceremony is disengaged, and make sure that the church is bespoken for no other service. if it is to be an important wedding, she must also see that the time available for the church is also convenient to the caterer. sundays, and days in lent, are not chosen for weddings, and friday being a "fast" day in catholic and very "high" episcopal churches, weddings on that day, if not forbidden, are never encouraged. but the superstition that friday and the month of may are unlucky, is too stupid to discuss. having settled upon a day and hour, the next step is to decide the number of guests that can be provided for, which is determined by the size of the church and the house, and the type of reception intended. =the invitations= the bride-elect and her mother then go to the stationer and decide details, such as size and texture of paper and style of engraving, for the invitations. the order is given at once for the engraving of all the necessary plates, and probably for the full number of house invitations, especially if to a sit-down breakfast where the guests are limited. there are also ordered a moderate number of general church invitations or announcements, which can be increased later when the lists are completed and the definite number of guests more accurately known. =her mother consults his mother= the bride's mother then consults with the groom, or more likely, with his mother, as to how the house-list is to be divided between them. this never means a completely doubled list, because, if the two families live in the same city, many names are sure to be in duplicate. if the groom's people live in another place, invitations to the house can be liberally sent, as the proportion of guests who will take a long trip seldom go beyond those of the immediate family and such close friends as would be asked to the smallest of receptions. usually if mrs. smith tells mrs. smartlington that two hundred can be included at the breakfast, mrs. smith and mrs. smartlington will each make a list of one hundred and fifty, certain that one hundred will be in duplicate. invitations to a big church wedding are always sent to the entire visiting list, and often the business acquaintances of both families, no matter how long the combined number may be, or whether they can by any chance be present or not. even people in deep mourning are included as well as those who live thousands of miles away, as the invitations not merely proffer hospitality but are messengers carrying the news of the marriage. after a house wedding, or a private ceremony where invitations were limited to relatives and closest personal friends of the young couple, general announcements are sent out to the entire visiting list. =how the wedding list is compiled= those who keep their visiting list in order have comparatively little work. but those who are not in the habit of entertaining on a general scale, and yet have a large unassorted visiting list, will have quite a piece of work ahead of them, and cannot begin making it soon enough. in the cities where a social register or other visiting book is published, people of social prominence find it easiest to read it through, marking "xx" in front of the names to be asked to the house, and another mark, such as a dash, in front of those to be asked to the church only, or to have announcements sent them. other names which do not appear in the printed list may be written as "thought of" at the top or bottom of pages. in country places and smaller cities, or where a published list is not available, or of sufficient use, the best assistant is the telephone book. list-making should be done over as long a period and for as short sessions as possible, in order that each name as it is read may bring to memory any other that is similar. long reading at a time robs the repetition of names of all sense, so that nothing is easier than to pass over the name of a friend without noticing it. a word of warning: to leave out old friends because they are neither rich nor fashionable and to include comparative strangers because they are of great social importance, not alone shows a want of loyalty and proper feeling, but is to invite the contempt of those very ones whom such snobbery seeks to propitiate. four lists, therefore, are combined in sending out wedding invitations; the bride and the groom make one each of their own friends, to which is added the visiting list of the bride's family (made out by her mother, or other near relative) and the visiting list of the groom's family made out by his mother, or a relative. each name is clearly marked, of course, whether for "house" or "church" invitation. when the four lists are completed, it is the duty of some one to arrange them into a single one by whatever method seems most expedient. when lists are very long, the compiling is usually done by a professional secretary, who also addresses the envelopes, encloses the proper number of cards, and seals, stamps and posts the invitations. the address of a professional secretary can always be furnished by the stationer. very often, especially where lists do not run into inordinate length, the envelopes are addressed and the invitations sent out by the bride herself and some of her friends who volunteer to help her. =the most elaborate wedding possible= this is the huge wedding of the daughter of ultra rich and prominent people in a city such as new york, or, more probably, a high-noon wedding out of town. the details would in either case he the same, except that the "country setting" makes necessary the additional provision of a special train which takes the guests to a station where they are met by dozens of motors and driven to the church. later they are driven to the house, and later again, to the returning special train. otherwise, whether in the city or the country, the church (if protestant) is decorated with masses of flowers in some such elaborateness as standards, or arches, or hanging garlands in the church itself, as well as the floral embellishment of the chancel. the service is conducted by a bishop or other distinguished clergyman, with assistant clergymen, and accompanied by a full choral service, possibly with the addition of a celebrated opera soloist. the costumes of the bride and her maids are chosen with painstaking attention to perfection, and with seeming disregard of cost. later, at the house, there is not only a floral bower under which the bridal couple receive, but every room has been turned into a veritable woodland or garden, so massed are the plants and flowers. an orchestra--or two, so that the playing may be without intermission--is hidden behind palms in the hall or wherever is most convenient. a huge canopied platform is built on the lawn or added to the veranda (or built out over the yard of a city house), and is decorated to look like an enclosed formal garden. it is packed with small tables, each seating four, six, or eight, as the occasion may require. =the average fashionable wedding= the more usual fashionable wedding is merely a modification of the one outlined above. the chancel of the church is decorated exactly the same, but except in summer when garden flowers are used, there is very little attempted in the body of the church other than sprays of flowers at the ends of the ten to twenty reserved pews, or possibly only at the ends of the first two pews and the two that mark the beginning of the ribboned section. there is often a choral service and a distinguished officiating clergyman. the costumes of bride and bridesmaids are usually the same in effect, though they may be less lavish in detail. the real difference begins at the breakfast, where probably a hundred guests are invited, or two hundred at most, instead of from five hundred to a thousand, and except for the canopied background against which the bride and groom receive, there is very little floral decoration of the house. if a tent is built, it is left as it is--a tent--with perhaps some standard trees at intervals to give it a decorated appearance. the tables, even that of the bride, their garniture, the service, and the food are all precisely the same, the difference being in the smaller number of guests provided for. =a small wedding= a small wedding is merely a further modification of the two preceding ones. let us suppose it is a house wedding in a moderate-sized house. a prayer bench has been placed at the end of the drawing-room or living-room. back of it is a screen or bower of palms or other greens. one decoration thus serves for chancel and background at the reception. a number of small tables in the dining-room may seat perhaps twenty or even fifty guests, besides the bride's table placed in another room. if the bride has no attendants, she and the groom choose a few close friends to sit at the table with them. or, at a smaller wedding, there is a private marriage in a little chapel, or the clergyman reads the service at the house of the bride in the presence of her parents and his and a small handful of guests, who all sit down afterwards at one table for a wedding breakfast. or there may be a greater number of guests and a simpler collation, such as a stand-up afternoon tea, where the refreshments are sandwiches, cakes, tea and chocolate. =breach of etiquette for groom to give wedding= no matter whether a wedding is to be large or tiny, there is one unalterable rule: the reception must be either at the house of the bride's parents or grandparents or other relative of hers, or else in assembly rooms rented by her family. never under any circumstances should a wedding reception be given at the house of the groom's family. they may give a ball or as many entertainments of whatever description they choose for the young couple after they are married, but the wedding breakfast and the trousseau of the bride must be furnished by her own side of the house! when a poor girl marries, her wedding must be in keeping with the means of her parents. it is not only inadvisable for them to attempt expenditure beyond what they can afford, but they would lay themselves open to far greater criticism through inappropriate lavishness, than through meagerness of arrangement--which need not by any means lack charm because inexpensive. =wedding of a cinderella= some years ago there was a wedding when a girl who was poor married a man who was rich and who would gladly have given her anything she chose, the beauty of which will be remembered always by every witness in spite of, or maybe because of, its utter lack of costliness. it was in june in the country. the invitations were by word of mouth to neighbors and personal notes to the groom's relatives at a distance. the village church was decorated by the bride, her younger sisters, and some neighbors, with dogwood, than which nothing is more bridelike or beautiful. the shabbiness of her father's little cottage was smothered with flowers and branches cut in a neighboring wood. her dress, made by herself, was of tarlatan covered with a layer or two of tulle, and her veil was of tulle fastened with a spray, as was her girdle, of natural bridal wreath and laurel leaves. her bouquet was of trailing bridal wreath and white lilacs. she was very young, and divinely beautiful, and fresh and sweet. the tulle for her dress and veil and her thin silk stockings and white satin slippers represented the entire outlay of any importance for her costume. a little sister in smock of pink sateen and a wreath and tight bouquet of pink laurel clusters, toddled after her and "held" her bouquet--after first laying her own on the floor! the collation was as simple as the dresses of the bride and bridesmaid. a home-made wedding cake, "professionally" iced and big enough for every one to take home a thick slice in waxed paper piled near for the purpose, and a white wine cup, were the most "pretentious" offerings. otherwise there were sandwiches, hot biscuits, cocoa, tea and coffee, scrambled eggs and bacon, ice cream and cookies, and the "music" was a victrola, loaned for the occasion. the bride's "going away" dress was of brown holland linen and her hat a plain little affair as simple as her dress; again her only expenditure was on shoes, stockings and gloves. later on, she had all the clothes that money could buy, but in none of them was she ever more lovely than in her fashionless wedding dress of tarlatan and tulle, and the plain little frock in which she drove away. nor are any of the big parties that she gives to-day more enjoyable, though perfect in their way, than her wedding on a june day, a number of years ago. =the wedding hour= the fashionable wedding hour in new york is either noon, or else in the afternoon at three, three-thirty or four o'clock, with the reception always a half hour later. high noon, which means that the breakfast is at one o'clock, and four o'clock in the afternoon, with the reception at half after, are the conventional hours. =the evening wedding= in san francisco and generally throughout the west altogether smart weddings are celebrated at nine o'clock in the evening. the details are precisely the same as those of morning or afternoon. the bride and bridesmaids wear dresses that are perhaps more elaborate and "evening" in model, and the bridegroom as well as all men present wear evening clothes, of course. if the ceremony is in a church, the women should wear wraps and an ornament or light scarf of some sort over their hair, as ball dresses are certainly not suitable, besides which church regulations forbid the uncovering of women's heads in consecrated places of worship. =the morning wedding= to some, nine o'clock in the morning may sound rather eccentric for a wedding, but to people of the atlantic coast it is not a bit more so than an evening hour--less so, if anything, because morning is unconventional anyway and etiquette, never being very strong at that hour, is not defied, but merely left quiescent. if, for any reason, such as taking an early morning train or ship--an early morning wedding might be a good suggestion. the bride should, of course, not wear satin and lace; she could wear organdie (let us hope the nine o'clock wedding is in summer!), or she could wear very simple white crêpe de chine. her attendants could wear the simplest sort of morning dresses with garden hats; the groom a sack suit or flannels. and the breakfast--really breakfast--could consist of scrambled eggs and bacon and toast and coffee--and griddle cakes! the above is not written in ridicule; the hour would be "unusual," but a simple early morning wedding where every one is dressed in morning clothes, and where the breakfast suggests the first meal of the day--could be perfectly adorable! the evening wedding on the other hand, lays itself open to criticism because it is a function--a function is formal, and the formal is always strictly in the province of that austere and inflexible lawmaker, etiquette. and etiquette at this moment says: "weddings on the atlantic seaboard are celebrated not later than four-thirty o'clock in the afternoon!" =wedding presents= and now let us return to the more particular details of the wedding of our especial bride. the invitations are mailed about three weeks before the wedding. as soon as they are out, the presents to the bride begin coming in, and she should enter each one carefully in her gift book. there are many published for the purpose, but an ordinary blank book, nicely bound, as she will probably want to keep it, about eight to ten inches square, will answer every purpose. the usual model spreads across the double page, as follows: _present date of received sender's where thanks date article sent by address bought written_ may silver dish mr. and mrs. white elinore place tiffany's may may plates mr. and mrs. green north street collamore's may all gifts as they arrive should be put in a certain room, or part of a room, and never moved away until the description is carefully entered. it will be found a great help to put down the addresses of donors as well as their names so that the bride may not have to waste an unnecessary moment of the overcrowded time which must be spent at her desk. =the bride's thanks= the bride who is happy in receiving a great number of presents spends every spare moment in writing her notes of thanks, which must always be written by her personally. telephoning won't do at all, and neither will a verbal "thank you so much," as she meets people here and there. she must write a separate letter for each present--a by no means small undertaking! a bride of this year whose presents, because of her family's great prominence, ran far into the hundreds, never went to bed a single night before her wedding until a note of thanks was checked against every present received that day. to those who offered to help her through her overwhelming task, she, who is supposed to be very spoiled, answered: "if people are kind enough to go out and buy a present for me, i think the least i can do is to write at once and thank them." that her effort was appreciated was evident by everyone's commenting on her prompt and charming notes. notes of thanks can be very short, but they should be written with as little delay as possible. when a present is sent by a married couple, the bride writes to the wife and thanks both: "thank you for the lovely present you and mr. jones sent me." =arranging the presents= not so much in an effort to parade her possessions as to do justice to the kindness of the many people who have sent them, a bride should show her appreciation of their gifts by placing each one in the position of greatest advantage. naturally, all people's tastes are not equally pleasing to the taste of the bride--nor are all pocketbooks equally filled. very valuable presents are better put in close contrast with others of like quality--or others entirely different in character. colors should be carefully grouped. two presents, both lovely in themselves, can be made completely destructive to each other if the colors are allowed to clash. usually china is put on one table, silver on another, glass on another, laces and linens on another. but pieces that jar together must be separated as far apart as possible and perhaps even moved to other surroundings. a crudely designed piece of silverware should not be left among beautiful examples, but be put among china ornaments, or other articles that do not reveal its lack of fineness by too direct comparison. for the same reason imitation lace should not be put next to real, nor stone-ware next to chinese porcelain. to group duplicates is another unfortunate arrangement. eighteen pairs of pepper pots or fourteen sauce-boats in a row might as well be labeled: "look at this stupidity! what can she do with all of us?" they are sure to make the givers feel at least a little chagrined at their choice. =cards with presents= when mrs. smith orders a present sent to a bride, she encloses a card reading: "mr. & mrs. john huntington smith." nearly every married woman has a plate engraved with both names, but if she hasn't, then she encloses mr. smith's card with hers. some people write "all good wishes" or "with best wishes," but most people send cards without messages. =delayed presents= if because of illness or absence, a present is not sent until after the wedding, a short note should accompany it, giving the reason for the delay. =when the presents are shown= there is absolutely no impropriety in showing the presents at the wedding reception. they are always shown at country weddings, and, more often than not, at the most fashionable town houses. the only reason for not showing them, is lack of room in an apartment house. in a town house, an up-stairs library, or even a bedroom, from which all the furniture has been removed, is suitable. tables covered with white damask (plain) tablecloths are put like counters around the sides, and down the center of the room. the cards that were sent with the gifts are sometimes removed, but there is no impropriety in leaving them on, and it certainly saves members of the family from repeating many times who sent this one, and who sent that! if the house is small so that there is no room available for this display at the wedding, the presents are shown on the day before, and intimate friends are especially asked to come in for tea, and to view them. this is not done if they are to be displayed at the wedding. very intimate friends seldom need to be asked; the chances are they will come in often, to see what has come since they were in last! wedding presents are all sent to the bride, and are, according to law, her personal property. articles are marked with her present--not her future--initials. mary smith who is going to marry jim smartlington is fortunate as m.s. stands for her future as well as her present name. but in the case of muriel jones who is to marry ross, not a piece of linen or silver in "ross house" will be marked otherwise than "m.j." it is one of the most senseless customs: all her life which will be as muriel ross, she uses linen and silver marked with a "j." later on many people who go to her house--especially as ross comes from california where she will naturally be living--will not know what "j" stands for, and many even imagine that the linen and plate have been acquired at auction! sounds impossible? it has happened more than once. occasional brides who dislike the confusing initials, especially ask that presents be marked with their marriage name. the groom receives few presents. even those who care about him in particular and have never met his bride, send their present to her, unless they send two presents, one in courtesy to her and one in affection to him. occasionally some one does send the groom a present, addressed to him and sent to his house. rather often friends of the groom pick out things particularly suitable for him, such as cigar or cigarette boxes, or rather masculine looking desk sets, etc., which are sent to her but are obviously intended for his use. =exchanging wedding presents= some people think it discourteous if a bride changes the present chosen for her. all brides exchange some presents, and no friends should allow their feelings to be hurt, unless they are very close to the bride and have chosen the present with particular sentiment. a bride never changes the presents chosen for her by her or the groom's family--unless especially told that she may do so. but to keep twenty-two salt cellars and sixteen silver trays when she has no pepper-pots or coffee spoons or platters or vegetable dishes, would be putting "sentiment" above "sense." =the trousseau= a trousseau, according to the derivation of the word, was "a little trusse or bundle" that the bride carried with her to the house of her husband. in modern times, the "little bundle" often requires the services of a van to transport. the wrappers and underclothes of a young girl are usually very simple, but when she is to be a bride, her mother buys her, as lavishly as she can, and of the prettiest possible assortment of lace trimmed lingerie, tea gowns, bed sacques and caps, whatever may be thought especially becoming. the various undress garments which are to be worn in her room or at the breakfast table, and for the sole admiration of her husband, are of far greater importance than the dresses and hats to be worn in public. in europe it is the custom to begin collecting linen for a girl's trousseau as soon as she is born, but the american bride cares nothing for dozens upon dozens of stout linen articles. she much prefers gossamer texture lavishly embellished with equally perishable lace. everything must be bought for beauty; utility is not considered at all. no stout hand-woven underwear trimmed with solidly stitched needlework! modern miss millions demands handkerchief linen and valenciennes lace of a quality that used to be put as trimming on a ball gown, and miss smallpurse asks for chiffon and less expensive but even more sheer and perishable laces. not long ago a stocking was thought fine if it could be run through a wedding ring; to-day no stocking is considered "fit to put on" for town or evening wear unless several together can slip through the measure once the test for one. =the most extravagant trousseau= the most lavish trousseau imaginable for the daughter of the very rich might be supposed to comprise: _house linen_ one to six dozen finest quality embroidered or otherwise "trimmed" linen sheets with large embroidered monogram. one to six dozen finest quality linen sheets, plain hemstitched, large monogram. one to six dozen finest quality linen under-sheets, narrow hem and small monogram. two pillow cases and also one "little" pillow case (for small down pillow) to match each upper sheet. one to two dozen blanket covers (these are of thin washable silk in white or in colors to match the rooms) edged with narrow lace and breadths put together with lace insertion. six to twelve blankets. three to twelve wool or down-filled quilts. two to ten dozen finest quality, extra large, face towels, with venetian needlework or heavy hand-made lace insertion (or else embroidered at each end), and embroidered monogram. five to ten dozen finest quality hemstitched and monogrammed but otherwise plain, towels. five to ten dozen little hand towels to match the large ones. one to two dozen very large bath towels, with embroidered monogram, either white or in color to match the border of towels. two to four dozen smaller towels to match. one tablecloth, six or eight yards long, of finest but untrimmed damask with embroidered monogram on each side, or four corners. three dozen dinner napkins to match. (lace inserted and richly embroidered tablecloths of formal dinner size are not in the best taste.) one tablecloth five to six yards long with two dozen dinner napkins to match. one to four dozen damask tablecloths two and a half to three yards long, and one dozen dinner napkins to match each tablecloth. all tablecloths and napkins to have embroidered monogram or initials. two to six medium sized cut-work, mosaic or italian lace-work tablecloths, with lunch napkins to match. two to six centerpieces, with doilies and lunch napkins to match. four to a dozen tea cloths, of filet lace or drawn work or russian embroidery, with tiny napkins to match. table pieces and tea-cloths have monograms if there is any plain linen where a monogram can be embroidered, otherwise monograms or initials are put on the napkins only. one or two dozen damask tablecloths, plain, with monogram, and a dozen napkins to match each. in addition to the above, there are two to four dozen servants' sheets and pillow cases (cotton); six to twelve woolen blankets, six to twelve wool filled quilts, four to six dozen towels, and one or two dozen bath towels; six to twelve white damask (cotton or linen and cotton mixed) tablecloths and six to twelve dozen napkins, all marked with machine embroidery. two to six dozen kitchen and pantry towels and dishcloths complete the list. _personal trousseau_ how many dresses can a bride wear? it all depends--is she to be in a big city for the winter season, or at a watering place for the summer? is she going to travel, or live quietly in the country? it is foolish to get more "outside" clothes than she has immediate use for; fashions change too radically. the most extravagant list for a bride who is to "go out" continually in new york or newport, would perhaps include a dozen evening dresses, two or three evening wraps, of varying weights. for town there would be from two to four street costumes, a fur coat, another long coat, a dozen hats and from four to ten house dresses. in this day of week-ends in the country, no trousseau, no matter how town-bred the bride, is complete without one or two "country" coats, of fur, leather or woolen materials; several homespun, tweed or tricot suits or dresses; skirts with shirt-waists and sweaters in endless variety; low or flat heeled shoes; woolen or woolen and silk mixture stockings; and sport hats. if the season is to be spent "out of town"--even in newport or palm beach--the most extravagant bride will find little use for any but country clothes, a very few frocks for sunday, and possibly a lot of evening dresses. of course, if she expects to run to town a great deal for lunch, or if she is to travel, she chooses her clothes accordingly. so much for the outer things. on the subject of the under things, which being of first importance are saved for the last, one can dip into any of the women's magazines devoted to fashion and fashionables, and understand at first sight that the furnishings which may be put upon the person of one young female would require a catalogue as long and as varied as a seedsman's. an extravagant trousseau contains every article illustrated--and more besides--in quality _never_ illustrated--and by the dozens! but it must not for a moment be supposed that every fashionable bride has a trousseau like this--especially the household linen which requires an outlay possible only to parents who are very rich and also very indulgent. =the moderate trousseau= the moderate trousseau simple cuts the above list into a fraction in quantity and also in quality. there is nothing of course that takes the place of the smooth fineness of really beautiful linen--it can no more be imitated than can a diamond, and its value is scarcely less. the "linen" of a really modest trousseau in this day of high prices must of necessity be "cotton." fortunately, however, many people dislike the chill of linen sheets, and also prefer cotton-face towels, because they absorb better, and cotton is made in attractive designs and in endless variety. for her personal trousseau, a bride can have everything that is charming and becoming at comparatively little expense. she who knows how to do fine sewing can make things beautiful enough for any one, and the dress made or hat trimmed at home is often quite as pretty on a lovely face and figure as the article bought at exorbitant cost at an establishment of reputation. youth seldom needs expensive embellishment. certain things such as footwear and gloves have to be bought, and are necessary. the cost, however, can be modified by choosing dresses that one-color slippers look well with. in cities such as new york, washington or boston, it has never been considered very good taste to make a formal display of the trousseau. a bride may show an intimate friend or two a few of her things, but her trousseau is never spread out on exhibition. there can, however, be no objection to her so doing, if it is the custom of the place in which she lives. =what the bridesmaids wear= the costumes of the bridesmaids, slippers, stockings, dresses, bouquets, gloves and hats, are selected by the bride, without considering or even consulting them as to their taste or preferences. the bridesmaids are always dressed exactly alike as to texture of materials and model of making, but sometimes their dresses differ in color. for instance, two of them may wear pale blue satin slips covered with blue chiffon and cream lace fichus, and cream-colored "picture" hats trimmed with orchids. the next two wear orchid dresses, cream fichus, and cream hats trimmed with pale blue hydrangeas. the maid of honor likewise wears the same model, but her dress is pink chiffon over pink satin and her cream hat is trimmed with both orchids and hydrangeas. the bouquets would all be alike of orchids and hydrangeas. their gloves all alike of cream-colored suede, and their slippers, blue, orchid, and pink, with stockings to match. usually the bridesmaids are all alike in color as well as outline, and the maid of honor exactly the same but in reverse colors. supposing the bridesmaids to wear pink dresses with blue sashes and pink hats trimmed in blue, and their bouquets are of larkspur--the maid of honor wears the same dress in blue, with pink sash, blue hat trimmed with pink, and carries pink roses. at lucy gilding's wedding, her bridesmaids were dressed in deep shades of burnt orange and yellow, wood-colored slippers and stockings, skirts that shaded from brown through orange to yellow; yellow leghorn hats trimmed with jonquils, and jonquil bouquets. the maid of honor wore yellow running into cream, and her hat, the of the same shape of leghorn, was trimmed with cream feathers, and she carried a huge cream feather fan. as in the case of the wedding dress, it is foolish to enter into descriptions of clothes more than to indicate that they are of light and fragile materials, more suitable to evening than to daytime. flower girls and pages are dressed in quaint old-fashioned dresses and suits of satin with odd old-fashioned bonnets--or whatever the bride fancies as being especially "picturesque." if a bridesmaid is in mourning, she wears colors on that one day, as bridesmaids' dresses are looked upon as uniforms, not individual costumes. nor does she put a black band on her arm. a young girl in deepest mourning should not be a bridesmaid--unless at the very private wedding of a bride or groom also in mourning. in this case she would most likely be the only attendant and wear all white. as a warning against the growing habit of artifice, it may not be out of place to quote one commentary made by a man of great distinction who, having seen nothing of the society of very young people for many years, "had to go" to the wedding of a niece. it was one of the biggest weddings of the spring season in new york. the flowers were wonderful, the bridesmaids were many and beautiful, the bride lovely. afterwards the family talked long about the wedding, but the distinguished uncle said nothing. finally, he was asked point blank: "don't you think the wedding was too lovely? weren't the bridesmaids beautiful?" "no," said the uncle, "i did not think it was lovely at all. every one of the bridesmaids was so powdered and painted that there was not a sweet or fresh face among them--i can see a procession just like them any evening on the musical comedy stage! one expects make-up in a theater, but in the house of god it is shocking!" it is unnecessary to add--if youth, the most beautiful thing in the world, would only appreciate how beautiful it is, and how opposite is the false bloom that comes in boxes and bottles! shiny noses, colorless lips, sallow skins hide as best they may, and with some excuse, behind powder or lip-stick; but to rouge a rose--! =the cost of being a bridesmaid= with the exception of parasols, or muffs or fans, which are occasionally carried in place of bouquets and presented by the bride, every article worn by the bridesmaids, flower girls or pages, although chosen by the bride, must be paid for by the wearers. it is perhaps an irrefutable condemnation of the modern wedding display that many a young girl has had to refuse the joy of being in the wedding party because a complete bridesmaid outfit costs a sum that parents of moderate means are quite unable to meet for popular daughters. and it is seldom that the bride is herself in a position to give six or eight complete costumes, much as she may want all of her most particular friends with her on her day of days. very often a bride tries especially to choose clothes that will not be expensive, but new york prices are new york prices, and the chic which is to make the wedding a perfect picture is the thing of all others that has to be paid for. even though one particular girl may be able to dress herself very smartly in homemade clothes of her own design and making, those same clothes duplicated eight times seldom turn out well. why this is so, is a mystery. when a girl looks smart in inferior clothes, the merit is in her, not in the clothes--and in a group of six or eight, five or seven will show a lack of "finish," and the tender-hearted bride who, for the sake of their purses sends her bridesmaids to an average "little woman" to have their clothes made, and to a little hat-place around the corner, is apt to have a rather dowdy little flock fluttering down the aisle in front of her. =how many bridesmaids?= this question is answered by: how many friends has she whom she has "always promised" to have with her on that day? has she a large circle of intimates or only one or two? her sister is always maid of honor; if she has no sister, she chooses her most intimate friend. a bride may have a veritable procession: eight or ten bridesmaids, a maid of honor, flower girls and pages. that is, if she follows the english custom, where every younger relative even including the little boys as pages, seems always to be brought into a perfect may-pole procession of ragged ages and sizes. or she may have none at all. she almost always has at least one maid, or matron, of honor, as the picture of her father standing holding her bouquet and stooping over to adjust the fall of her dress, would be difficult to witness with gravity. at an average new york wedding, there are four or six bridesmaids--half of the "maids" may be "matrons," if most of the bride's "group" of friends have married before her. it is, however, not suitable to have young married women as bridesmaids, and then have an unmarried girl as maid of honor. =best man and ushers= the bridegroom always has a best man--his brother if he has one, or his best friend. the number of his ushers is in proportion to the size of the church and the number of guests invited. at a house wedding, ushers are often merely "honorary" and he may have many or none--according to the number of his friends. as ushers and bridesmaids are chosen only from close friends of the bride and groom, it is scarcely necessary to suggest how to word the asking! usually they are told that they are expected to serve at the time the engagement is announced, or at any time as they happen to meet. if school or college friends who live at a distance are among the number, letters are necessary. such as: "mary and i are to be married on the tenth of november, and, of course, you are to be an usher." usually he adds: "my dinner is to be on the seventh at eight o'clock at ----," naming the club or restaurant. it is unheard of for a man to refuse--unless a bridegroom, for snobbish reasons, asks some one who is not really a friend at all. =bride's usher and groom's bridesmaid= a brother of the bride, or if she has no brother, then her "favorite cousin" is always asked by the groom to be usher out of compliment to her. the bride returns the compliment by asking the sister of the groom who is nearest her own age, to be bridesmaid, or if he has no sister, she asks a cousin or even occasionally shows her courtesy by asking the groom to name a particular friend of his. the bride in asking her does not say: "will you be one of my bridesmaids because jim wants me to ask you." if the bridesmaid is not a particular friend of the bride, she knows perfectly that it is on jim's account that she has been asked. it is the same with the bride's usher. the groom merely asks him as he asks all of the others. when a foreigner marries an american girl, his own friends being too distant to serve, the ushers are chosen from among the friends of the bride. =bridegroom has no trousseau= a whole outfit of new clothes is never considered necessary for a bridegroom, but shabby ones are scarcely appropriate. whatever his wardrobe may stand in need of should be bought, if possible. he should have, not necessarily new, plenty of good shirts of all kinds, handkerchiefs, underwear, pajamas, socks, ties, gloves, etc., and a certain number of fresh, or as good as new, suits of clothes. there was a wedding not long ago which caused quite a lot of derisive comment because the groom's mother provided him with a complete and elaborate trousseau from london, enormous trunks full of every sort of raiment imaginable. that part of it all was very nice; her mistake was in inviting a group of friends in to see the finery. the son was so mortified by this publicity that he appeared at the wedding in clothes conspicuously shabby, in order to counteract the "mama's-darling-little-newly-wed" effect that the publicity of her generous outlay had produced. it is proper and fitting for a groom to have as many new clothes as he needs, or pleases, or is able to get--but they are never shown to indiscriminate audiences, they are not featured, and he does not go about looking "dressed up." =the wedding clothes of the bridegroom= if he does not already possess a well fitting morning coat (often called a cutaway) he must order one for his wedding. the frock coat is out of fashion at the moment. he must also have dark striped gray trousers. at many smart weddings, especially in the spring, a groom (also his best man) wears a white piqué high double-breasted waistcoat, because the more white that can be got into an otherwise sombre costume the more wedding-like it looks; conventionally he wears a black one to match his coat, like the ushers. the white edge to a black waistcoat is not, at present, very good form. as to his tie, he may choose an "ascot" of black and white or gray patterned silk. or he may wear a "four-in-hand" matching those selected for the ushers, of black silk with a narrow single, or broken white stripe at narrow or wide intervals. at one of the ultra smart weddings in new york last spring, after the london fashion, the groom and all the men of the wedding party wore bow ties of black silk with small white dots. white buckskin gloves are the smartest, but gray suede are the most conventional. white kid is worn only in the evening. it is even becoming the fashion for ushers at small country weddings not to wear gloves at all! but at every wedding, great or small, city or country, etiquette demands that the groom, best man, and ushers, all wear high silk hats, and that the groom carry a walking stick. very particular grooms have the soles of their shoes blacked with "water-proof" shoe polish so that when they kneel, their shoes look dark and neat. =what the best man wears= the best man wears precisely what the groom wears, with only one small exception: the groom's boutonnière is slightly different and more elaborate. the groom and best man often wear ties that are different from those worn by the ushers, and occasionally white waistcoats. otherwise the two principal men are dressed like the ushers. =what the ushers wear= it is of greatest importance that in dress each usher be an exact counterpart of his fellows, if the picture is to be perfect. everyone knows what a ragged-edged appearance is produced by a company of recruits whose uniforms are odd lots. an after-effect of army training was evident at one or two smart new york weddings where the grooms were in each case ex-officers and their ushers turned out in military uniformity. each of these grooms sent typewritten instructions to his ushers, covering every detail of the "equipment" exacted. few people may have reasoned why, but scarcely any one failed to notice "what smart looking men all the ushers were." it is always just such attention to detail that produces a perfectly finished result. the directions sent by one of the grooms was as follows: "wedding rehearsal on tuesday, st. bartholomew's at p.m. wedding on wednesday at p.m. please wear: black calfskin low shoes. plain black silk socks. gray striped trousers (the darkest you have). morning coat and single-breasted black waistcoat. white dress shirt (see that cuffs show three-quarters of an inch below coat sleeves). stand-up wing collar. tie and gloves are enclosed. boutonnière will be at the church. be at the church yourself at three o'clock, sharp." =the head usher= usually there is no "head usher," but in certain localities courtesy designates the usher who is selected to take the bride's mother up the aisle as the "head," or "first" usher. very occasionally, too, a nervous groom appoints an especially "reliable" friend head usher so as to be sure that all details will be carried out--including the prompt and proper appearance at the church of the other ushers. usually, the ushers divide the arrangements among themselves. the groom decides who goes on which aisle. one of them volunteers or is asked to look out for the bride's coming and to notify the groom, another is especially detailed to take the two mothers up the aisle. but very often this arrangement is arbitrarily decided by height. if one mother is very tall and the other very short, they generally go up with different ushers, the tallest being chosen for the taller lady, and one of medium height for the shorter. =the bridesmaids' luncheon= in many sections of america, especially in the country and in small towns, brides make an especial feature of asking their bridesmaids to a farewell luncheon. the table is elaborately decorated (invariably in pink with bridesmaids' roses), there is a bride's cake (lady cake) and there are favors in the cake, and mottoes, and altogether it is a "lovely party." in new york there is nothing like that at all. if the bride chooses to give a luncheon to her bridesmaids on whatever day suits her best, there is no objection to her doing so, or in fact, to her inviting whom she pleases to whatever sort of a party her mother is willing she should give. it is not a question of approved etiquette but of her own inclination seconded by the consent of her mother! if her mother "keeps open house," probably they lunch with her many times before the wedding; if, on the other hand, it is not the habit of the family to have "people running in for meals," it is not necessary that she ask them to lunch at all. but whether they lunch often or never, the chances are that they are in and out of her house every day, looking at new presents as they come, perhaps helping her to write the descriptions in the gift book, and in arranging them in the room where they are to be displayed. the bride usually goes to oversee the last fittings of the bridesmaids' dresses in order to be sure that they are as she wants them. this final trying-on should be arranged for several days at least before the wedding, so there may be sufficient time to make any alterations that are found necessary. often the bride tries on her wedding dress at the same time so that she may see the effect of the whole wedding picture as it will be, or if she prefers, she tries on her dress at another hour alone. usually her bridesmaids lunch quite informally with her, or come in for tea, the day before the wedding, and on that day the bride gives them each "her present" which is always something to wear. it may be the muffs they are to carry, or parasols, if they have been chosen instead of bouquets. the typical "bridesmaid's present" is a bangle, a breast pin, a hat pin, which, according to the means of the bride, may have great or scarcely any intrinsic value. =bridesmaids and ushers' dinner= if a wedding is being held in the country, or where most of the bridesmaids or ushers come from a distance, and they are therefore stopping at the bride's house, or with her neighbors, there is naturally a "dinner" in order to provide for the visitors. but where the wedding is in the city--especially when all the members of the bridal party live there also--the custom of giving a dinner has gone rather out of fashion. if the bridal party is asked to dine at the house of the bride on the evening before the wedding, it is usually with the purpose of gathering a generally irresponsible group of young people together, and seeing that they go to the church for rehearsal, which is of all things the most important. more often the rehearsal is in the afternoon, after which the young people go to the bride's house for tea, allowing her parents to have her to themselves on her last evening home, and giving her a chance to go early to bed so as to be as pretty as possible on the morrow. =the bachelor dinner= popularly supposed to have been a frightful orgy, and now arid as the sahara desert and quite as flat and dreary, the bachelor dinner was in truth more often than not, a sheep in wolf's clothing. it is quite true that certain big clubs and restaurants had rooms especially constructed for the purpose, with walls of stone and nothing breakable within hitting distance, which certainly does rather suggest frightfulness. as a matter of fact, "an orgy" was never looked upon with favor by any but silly and wholly misguided youths, whose idea of a howling good time was to make a howling noise; chiefly by singing at the top of their lungs and--breaking crockery. a boisterous picture, but scarcely a vicious one! especially as quantities of the cheapest glassware and crockery were always there for the purpose. the breaking habit originated with drinking the bride's health and breaking the stem of the wine glass, so that it "might never serve a less honorable purpose." a perfectly high-minded sentiment! and this same time-honored custom is followed to this day. toward the latter end of the dinner the groom rises, and holding a filled champagne glass aloft says: "to the bride!" every man rises, drinks the toast standing, and then breaks the delicate stem of the glass. the impulse to break more glass is natural to youth, and probably still occurs. it is not hard to understand. the same impulse is seen at every county fair where enthusiastic youths (and men) delight in shooting, or throwing balls, at clay pipes and ducks and--crockery! aside from toasting the bride and its glass-smashing result, the groom's farewell dinner is exactly like any other "man's dinner," the details depending upon the extravagance or the frugality of the host, and upon whether his particular friends are staid citizens of sober years or mere boys full of the exuberance of youth. usually there is music of some sort, or "neapolitans" or "coons" who sing, or two or three instrumental pieces, and the dinner party itself does the singing. often the dinner is short and all go to the theater. =gifts presented to ushers= the groom's presents to his ushers are always put at their places at the bachelor dinner. cuff links are the most popular gift; scarf-pins in localities where they are still fashionable. silver or gold pencils, belt buckles, key-rings in gold, key-chains in silver, cigarette cases, bill-folders, card-cases, or other small and personal articles are suitable. the present to the best man is approximately the same, or slightly handsomer than the gift to the ushers. =the rehearsal= the bride always directs her wedding rehearsal, but never herself takes part in it, as it is supposed to be bad luck. some one else--anyone who happens to be present--is appointed understudy. nearly always a few especial friends happen in, generally those who are primed with advice as to how everything should be done, but the opinion of the bride or the bride's mother is final. =vital importance of rehearsal= most of us are familiar with the wedding service, and its form seems simple enough. but, unless one has by experience learned to take care of seemingly non-existent details, the effect (although few may be able to say why) is hitchy and disjointed, and all the effort spent in preparation is wasted. it is not that gauche happenings are serious offenses, no matter how awkward the incident. even were the wedding party to get hopelessly entangled, no "crime" would have been committed; but any detail that destroys the smoothness of the general impression is fatal to dignity--and dignity is the qualification necessary above all else in ceremonial observances. =how the procession is drilled= the organist must always be at the rehearsal, as one of the most important details is marking the time of the wedding march. witnesses of most weddings can scarcely imagine that a wedding march is a _march_ at all; more often than not, the heads of ushers and bridesmaids bob up and down like something boiling in a pan. a perfectly drilled wedding procession, like a military one, should move forward in perfect step, rising and falling in a block or unit. to secure perfection of detail, the bars of the processional may be counted so that the music comes to an end at precisely the moment the bride and groom stand side by side at the chancel steps. this is not difficult; it merely takes time and attention. a wedding rehearsal should proceed as follows: first of all, it is necessary to determine the exact speed at which the march is to be played. the ushers are asked to try it out. they line up at the door, walk forward two and two. the audience, consisting of the bride and her mother, and the bridesmaids, decides whether the pace "looks well." it must not be fast enough to look brisk, or so slow as to be funereal. at one wedding the ushers counted two beats as one and the pace was so slow that they all wabbled in trying to keep their balance. the painfulness to everyone may be imagined. on the other hand it is unsuitable to "trot" up the aisle of a church. the "audience" having decided the speed, and the organist having noted the tempo, the entire procession, including the bridesmaids and a substitute, instead of the real bride, on her father's arm, go out into the vestibule and make their entry. remember, the father is an important factor in the ceremony, and must take part in the rehearsal. the procession is arranged according to height, the two shortest ushers leading--unless others of nearly the same height are found to be more accurate pacemakers. the bridesmaids come directly after the ushers, two and two, also according to height, the shortest in the lead. after the bridesmaids, the maid (or matron) of honor walks alone; flower girls come next (if there are any) and last of all, the understudy bride leaning on the arm of the father, with pages (if she has any) holding up her train. each pair in the procession follows the two directly in front by four paces or beats of time. in the vestibule, every one in the procession must pay attention to the feet directly in front, the pacemakers can follow the army sergeant's example and say very softly "left, left!" at the end the bride counts eight beats before she and the father put "left foot" forward. the whole trick is starting; after that they just walk naturally to the beat of the music, but keeping the ones in front as nearly as possible at the same distance. at the foot of the chancel, the ushers divide. in a small church, the first two go up the chancel steps and stand at the top; one on the right, the other on the left. the second two go to a step or two below the first. if there are more, they stand below again. chalk marks can be made on the chancel floor if necessary, but it ought not to be difficult, except for very little children who are flower girls or pages, to learn their position. [illustration: diagram of church] or in a big church they go up farther, some of them lining the steps, or all of them in front of the choir stalls. the bridesmaids also divide, half on either side, and always stand in front of the ushers. the maid of honor's place is on the left at the foot of the steps, exactly opposite the best man. flower girls and pages are put above or below the bridesmaids wherever it is thought "the picture" is best. the grouping of the ushers and bridesmaids in the chancel or lining the steps also depends upon their number and the size of the church. in any event, the bridesmaids stand in front of the ushers; half of them on the right and half on the left. they never stand all on the bride's side, and the ushers on the groom's. =entrance of the bridegroom= the clergyman who is to perform the marriage comes into the chancel from the vestry. at a few paces behind him follows the groom, who in turn is followed by the best man. the groom stops at the foot of the chancel steps and takes his place at the right, as indicated in the accompanying diagram. his best man stands directly behind him. the ushers and bridesmaids always pass in front of him and take their places as noted above. when the bride approaches, the groom takes only a step to meet her. a more effective greeting of the bride is possible if the door of the vestry opens into the chancel so that on following the clergyman, the groom finds himself at the top instead of the foot of the chancel steps. he goes forward to the right-hand side (his left), his best man behind him, and waits where he is until his bride approaches, when he goes down the steps to meet her--which is perhaps more gallant than to stand at the head of the aisle, and wait for her to join him. the real bride watches carefully how the pseudo bride takes her left hand from her father's arm, shifts her fan, or whatever represents her bouquet, from her right hand to her left, and gives her right hand to the groom. in the proper maneuver the groom takes her right hand in his own right hand and draws it through his left arm, at the same time turning toward the chancel. if the service is undivided, and all of it is to be at the altar, this is necessary as the bride always goes up to the altar leaning on the arm of the groom. if, however, the betrothal is to be read at the foot of the chancel (which is done at most weddings now) he may merely take her hand in his left one and stand as they are. =the organist's cue= the organist stops at the moment the bride and groom have assumed their places. that is the cue to the organist as to the number of bars necessary for the procession. after the procession has practised "marching" two or three times, everything ought to be perfect. the organist, having counted up the necessary bars of music, can readily give the leading ushers their "music cue"--so that they can start on the measure that will allow the procession and the organ to end together. the organist can, and usually does, stop off short, but there is a better finish if the bride's giving her hand to the groom and taking the last step that brings her in front of the chancel is timed so as to fall precisely on the last bars of the processional. no words of the service are ever rehearsed, although all the "positions" to be taken are practised. the pseudo bride takes the groom's left arm and goes slowly up the steps to the altar. the best man follows behind and to the right of the groom, and the maid of honor (or "first" bridesmaid) leaves her companions and advances behind and to the left of the bride. the pseudo bride (in pantomime) gives her bouquet to the maid of honor; the best man (also in pantomime) hands the ring to the groom, this merely to see that they are at a convenient distance for the services they are to perform. the recessional is played, and the procession goes out in reversed order. bride and groom first, then bridesmaids, then ushers, again all taking pains to fall into step with the leaders. on no account must the bridesmaids walk either up or down the aisle with the ushers! once in a while the maid of honor takes the arm of the best man and together they follow the bride and groom out of the church. but it gives the impression of a double wedding and spoils the picture. =obligations of the bridegroom= in order that the first days of their life together may be as perfect as possible, the groom must make preparations for the wedding trip long ahead of time, so that best accommodations can be reserved. if they are to stop first at a hotel in their own city, or one near by, he should go days or even weeks in advance and personally select the rooms. it is much better frankly to tell the proprietor, or room clerk, at the same time asking him to "keep the secret." everyone takes a friendly interest in a bridal couple, and the chances are that the proprietor will try to reserve the prettiest rooms in the house, and give the best service. if their first stop is to be at a distance, then he must engage train seats or boat stateroom, and write to the hotel of their destination far enough in advance to receive a written reply, so that he may be sure of the accommodations they will find. =expense of the wedding trip= just as it is contrary to all laws of etiquette for the bride to accept any part of her trousseau or wedding reception from the groom, so it is unthinkable for the bride to defray the least fraction of the cost of the wedding journey, no matter though she have millions in her own right, and he be earning ten dollars a week. he must save up his ten dollars as long as necessary, and the trip can be as short as they like, but convention has no rule more rigid than that the wedding trip shall be a responsibility of the groom. there are two modifications of this rule: a house may be put at their disposal by a member of her family, or, if she is a widow, they may go to one of her own, provided it is not one occupied by her with her late husband. it is also quite all right for them to go away in a motor belonging to her, but driven by him, and all garage expenses belong to him; or if her father or other member of the family offers the use of a yacht or private railway car, the groom may accept but he should remember that the incidental and unavoidable expense of such a "gift" is sometimes greater than the cost of railway tickets. =buying the wedding ring= it is quite usual for the bride to go with the groom when he buys the wedding ring, the reason being that as it stays for life on her finger, she should be allowed to choose the width and weight she likes and the size she finds comfortable. =the groom's present to the bride= he is a very exceptional and enviable man who is financially able to take his fiancée to the jeweler's and let her choose what she fancies. usually the groom buys the handsomest ornament he can afford--a string of pearls if he has great wealth, or a diamond pendant, brooch or bracelet, or perhaps only the simplest bangle or charm--but whether it is of great or little worth, it must be something for her personal adornment. =further obligations of the groom= gifts must be provided for his best man and ushers, as well as their ties, gloves and boutonnières, a bouquet for his bride, and the fee for the clergyman, which may be a ten dollar gold piece or one or two new one hundred dollar bills, according to his wealth and the importance of the wedding. whatever the amount, it is enclosed in an envelope and taken in charge by the best man who hands it to the clergyman in his vestry-room immediately after the ceremony. chapter xxii the day of the wedding no one is busier than the best man on the day of the wedding. his official position is a cross between trained nurse, valet, general manager and keeper. bright and early in the morning he hurries to the house of the groom, generally before the latter is up. very likely they breakfast together; in any event, he takes the groom in charge precisely as might a guardian. he takes note of his patient's general condition; if he is normal and "fit," so much the better. if he is "up in the air" or "nervous" the best man must bring him to earth and jolly him along as best he can. =best man as expressman= his first actual duty is that of packer and expressman; he must see that everything necessary for the journey is packed, and that the groom does not absent-mindedly put the furnishings of his room in his valise and leave his belongings hanging in the closet. he must see that the clothes the groom is to "wear away" are put into a special bag to be taken to the house of the bride (where he, as well as she, must change from wedding into traveling clothes). the best man becomes expressman if the first stage of the wedding journey is to be to a hotel in town. he puts all the groom's luggage into his own car or a taxi, drives to the bride's house, carries the bag with the groom's traveling suit in it to the room set aside for his use--usually the dressing-room of the bride's father or the bedroom of her brother. he then collects, according to pre-arrangement, the luggage of the bride and drives with the entire equipment of both bride and groom to the hotel where rooms have already been engaged, sees it all into the rooms, and makes sure that everything is as it should be. if he is very thoughtful, he may himself put flowers about the rooms. he also registers for the newly-weds, takes the room key, returns to the house of the groom, gives him the key and assures him that everything at the hotel is in readiness. this maneuver allows the young couple when they arrive to go quietly to their rooms without attracting the notice of any one, as would be the case if they arrived with baggage and were conspicuously shown the way by a bell-boy whose manner unmistakably proclaims "bride and groom!" or, if they are going at once by boat or train, the best man takes the baggage to the station, checks the large pieces, and fees a porter to see that the hand luggage is put in the proper stateroom or parlor car chairs. if they are going by automobile, he takes the luggage out to the garage and personally sees that it is bestowed in the car. =best man as valet= his next duty is that of valet. he must see that the groom is dressed and ready early, and plaster him up if he cuts himself shaving. if he is wise in his day he even provides a small bottle of adrenaline for just such an accident, so that plaster is unnecessary and that the groom may be whole. he may need to find his collar button or even to point out the "missing" clothes that are lying in full view. he must also be sure to ask for the wedding ring and the clergyman's fee, and put them in his own waistcoat pocket. a very careful best man carries a duplicate ring, in case of one being lost during the ceremony. =best man as companion-in-ordinary= with the bride's and groom's luggage properly bestowed, the ring and fee in his pocket, the groom's traveling clothes at the bride's house, the groom in complete wedding attire, and himself also ready, the best man has nothing further to do but be gentleman-in-waiting to the groom until it is time to escort him to the church, where he becomes chief of staff. =at the house of the bride= meanwhile, if the wedding is to be at noon, dawn will not have much more than broken before the house--at least below stairs--becomes bustling. even if the wedding is to be at four o'clock, it will still be early in the morning when the business of the day begins. but let us suppose it is to be at noon; if the family is one that is used to assembling at an early breakfast table, it is probable that the bride herself will come down for this last meal alone with her family. they will, however, not be allowed to linger long at the table. the caterer will already be clamoring for possession of the dining-room--the florist will by that time already have dumped heaps of wire and greens into the middle of the drawing-room, if not beside the table where the family are still communing with their eggs. the door-bell has long ago begun to ring. at first there are telegrams and special delivery letters, then as soon as the shops open, come the last-moment wedding presents, notes, messages and the insistent clamor of the telephone. next, excited voices in the hall announce members of the family who come from a distance. they all want to kiss the bride, they all want rooms to dress in, they all want to talk. also comes the hairdresser, to do the bride's or her mother's or aunt's or grandmother's hair, or all of them; the manicure, the masseuse--any one else that may have been thought necessary to give final beautifying touches to any or all of the female members of the household. the dozen and one articles from the caterer are meantime being carried in at the basement door; made dishes, and dishes in the making, raw materials of which others are to be made; folding chairs, small tables, chinaware, glassware, napery, knives, forks and spoons--it is a struggle to get in or out of the kitchen or area door. the bride's mother consults the florist for the third and last time as to whether the bridal couple had not better receive in the library because of the bay window which lends itself easily to the decoration of a background, and because the room, is, if anything, larger than the drawing-room. and for the third time, the florist agrees about the advantage of the window but points out that the library has only one narrow door and that the drawing-room is much better, because it has two wide ones and guests going into the room will not be blocked in the doorway by others coming out. the best man turns up and wants the bride's luggage. the head usher comes to ask whether the joneses to be seated in the fourth pew are the tall dark ones or the blond ones, and whether he had not better put some of the titheringtons who belong in the eighth pew also in the seventh, as there are nine titheringtons and the eminents in the seventh pew are only four. a bridesmaid-elect hurries up the steps, runs into the best man carrying out the luggage; much conversation and giggling and guessing as to where the luggage is going. best man very important, also very noble and silent. bridesmaid shrugs her shoulders, dashes up to the bride's room and dashes down again. more presents arrive. the furniture movers have come and are carting lumps of heaviness up the stairs to the attic and down the stairs to the cellar. it is all very like an ant-hill. some are steadily going forward with the business in hand, but others who have become quite bewildered, seem to be scurrying aimlessly this way and that, picking something up only to put it down again. =the drawing-room= here, where the bride and groom are to receive, one can not tell yet what the decoration is to be. perhaps it is a hedged-in garden scene, a palm grove, a flowering recess, a screen and canopy of wedding bells--but a bower of foliage of some sort is gradually taking shape. =the dining-room= the dining-room, too, blossoms with plants and flowers. perhaps its space and that of a tent adjoining is filled with little tables, or perhaps a single row of camp chairs stands flat against the walls, and in the center of the room, the dining table pulled out to its farthest extent, is being decked with trimmings and utensils which will be needed later when the spaces left at intervals for various dishes shall be occupied. preparation of these dishes is meanwhile going on in the kitchen. =the kitchen= the caterer's chefs in white cook's caps and aprons are in possession of the situation, and their assistants run here and there, bringing ingredients as they are told; or perhaps the caterer brings everything already prepared, in which case the waiters are busy unpacking the big tin boxes and placing the _bain-marie_ (a sort of fireless cooker receptacle in a tank of hot water) from which the hot food is to be served. huge tubs of cracked ice in which the ice cream containers are buried are already standing in the shade of the areaway or in the back yard. =last preparations= back again in the drawing-room, the florist and his assistants are still tying and tacking and arranging and adjusting branches and garlands and sheaves and bunches, and the floor is a litter of twigs and strings and broken branches. the photographer is asking that the central decoration be finished so he can group his pictures, the florist assures him that he is as busy as possible. the house is as cold as open windows can make it, to keep the flowers fresh, and to avoid stuffiness. the door-bell continues its ringing, and the parlor maid finds herself a contestant in a marathon, until some one decides that card envelopes and telegrams had better be left in the front hall. a first bridesmaid arrives. she at least is on time. all decoration activity stops while she is looked at and admired. panic seizes some one! the time is too short, nothing will be ready! some one else says the bridesmaid is far too early, there is no end of time. upstairs everyone is still dressing. the father of the bride (one would suppose him to be the bridegroom at least) is trying on most of his shirts, the floor strewn with discarded collars! the mother of the bride is hurrying into her wedding array so as to be ready for any emergency, as well as to superintend the finishing touches to her daughter's dress and veil. =the wedding dress= everyone knows what a wedding dress is like. it may be of any white material, satin, brocade, velvet, chiffon or entirely of lace. it may be embroidered in pearls, crystals or silver; or it may be as plain as a slip-cover--anything in fact that the bride fancies, and made in whatever fashion or period she may choose. as for her veil in its combination of lace or tulle and orange blossoms, perhaps it is copied from a head-dress of egypt or china, or from the severe drapery of rebecca herself, or proclaim the knowing touch of the rue de la paix. it may have a cap, like that of a lady in a french print, or fall in clouds of tulle from under a little wreath, such as might be worn by a child queen of the may. the origin of the bridal veil is an unsettled question. roman brides wore "yellow veils," and veils were used in the ancient hebrew marriage ceremony. the veil as we use it may be a substitute for the flowing tresses which in old times fell like a mantle modestly concealing the bride's face and form; or it may be an amplification of the veil which medieval fashion added to every head-dress. in olden days the garland rather than the veil seems to have been of greatest importance. the garland was the "coronet of the good girl," and her right to wear it was her inalienable attribute of virtue. very old books speak of three ornaments that every virtuous bride must wear, "a ring on her finger, a brooch on her breast and a garland on her head." a bride who had no dowry of gold was said nevertheless to bring her husband great treasure, if she brought him a garland--in other words, a virtuous wife. at present the veil is usually mounted by a milliner on a made foundation, so that it need merely be put on--but every young girl has an idea of how she personally wants her wedding veil and may choose rather to put it together herself or have it done by some particular friend, whose taste and skill she especially admires. if she chooses to wear a veil over her face up the aisle and during the ceremony, the front veil is always a short separate piece about a yard square, gathered on an invisible band, and pinned with a hair pin at either side, after the long veil is arranged. it is taken off by the maid of honor when she gives back the bride's bouquet at the conclusion of the ceremony. the face veil is a rather old-fashioned custom, and is appropriate only for a very young bride of a demure type; the tradition being that a maiden is too shy to face a congregation unveiled, and shows her face only when she is a married woman. some brides prefer to remove their left glove by merely pulling it inside out at the altar. usually the under seam of the wedding finger of her glove is ripped for about two inches and she need only pull the tip off to have the ring put on. or, if the wedding is a small one, she wears no gloves at all. brides have been known to choose colors other than white. cloth of silver is quite conventional and so is very deep cream, but cloth of gold suggests the habiliment of a widow rather than that of a virgin maid--of which the white and orange blossoms, or myrtle leaf, are the emblems. if a bride chooses to be married in traveling dress, she has no bridesmaids, though she often has a maid of honor. a "traveling" dress is either a "tailor made" if she is going directly on a boat or train, or a morning or afternoon dress--whatever she would "wear away" after a big wedding. but to return to our particular bride; everyone seemingly is in her room, her mother, her grandmother, three aunts, two cousins, three bridesmaids, four small children, two friends, her maid, the dressmaker and an assistant. every little while, the parlor-maid brings a message or a package. her father comes in and goes out at regular intervals, in sheer nervousness. the rest of the bridesmaids gradually appear and distract the attention of the audience so that the bride has moments of being allowed to dress undisturbed. at last even her veil is adjusted and all present gasp their approval: "how sweet!" "dearest, you are too lovely!" and "darling, how wonderful you look!" her father reappears: "if you are going to have the pictures taken, you had better all hurry!" "oh, mary," shouts some one, "what have you on that is something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a lucky sixpence in your shoe!" "let me see," says the bride, "'old,' i have old lace; 'new,' i have lots of new! 'borrowed,' and 'blue'?" a chorus of voices: "wear my ring," "wear my pin," "wear mine! it's blue!" and some one's pin which has a blue stone in it, is fastened on under the trimming of her dress and serves both needs. if the lucky sixpence (a dime will do) is produced, she must at least pay discomfort for her "luck." again some one suggests the photographer is waiting and time is short. having pictures taken before the ceremony is a dull custom, because it is tiring to sit for one's photograph at best, and to attempt anything so delaying as posing at the moment when the procession ought to be starting, is as trying to the nerves as it is exhausting, and more than one wedding procession has consisted of very "dragged out" young women in consequence. at a country wedding it is very easy to take the pictures out on the lawn at the end of the reception and just before the bride goes to dress. sometimes in a town house, they are taken in an up-stairs room at that same hour; but usually the bride is dressed and her bridesmaids arrive at her house fully half an hour before the time necessary to leave for the church, and pictures of the group are taken as well as several of the bride alone--with special lights--against the background where she will stand and receive. =procession to church= whether the pictures are taken before the wedding or after, the bridesmaids always meet at the house of the bride, where they also receive their bouquets. when it is time to go to the church, there are several carriages or motors drawn up at the house. the bride's mother drives away in the first, usually alone, or she may, if she chooses, take one or two bridesmaids in her car, but she must reserve room for her husband who will return from church with her. the maid of honor, bridesmaids and flower girls go in the next vehicles, which may be their own or else are supplied by the bride's family; and last of all, comes the bride's carriage, which always has a wedding appearance. if it is a brougham, the horses' headpieces are decorated with white flowers and the coachman wears a white boutonnière; if it is a motor, the chauffeur wears a small bunch of white flowers on his coat, and white gloves, and has all the tires painted white to give the car a wedding appearance. the bride drives to the church with her father only. her carriage arrives last of the procession, and stands without moving, in front of the awning, until she and her husband (in place of her father) return from the ceremony and drive back to the house for the breakfast or reception. if she has no father, this part is taken by an uncle, a brother, a cousin, her guardian, or other close male connection of her family. if it should happen that the bride has neither father nor very near male relative, or guardian, she walks up the aisle alone. at the point in the ceremony when the clergyman asks who gives the bride, if the betrothal is read at the chancel steps, her mother goes forward and performs the office in exactly the same way that her father would have done. if the entire ceremony is at the altar, the mother merely stays where she is standing in her proper place at the end of the first pew on the left, and says very distinctly, "i do." =at the church= meanwhile, about an hour before the time for the ceremony, the ushers arrive at the church and the sexton turns his guardianship over to them. they leave their hats in the vestry, or coat room. their boutonnières, sent by the groom, should be waiting in the vestibule. they should be in charge of a boy from the florist's, who has nothing else on his mind but to see that they are there, that they are fresh and that the ushers get them. each man puts one in his buttonhole, and also puts on his gloves. the head usher decides (or the groom has already told them) to which ushers are apportioned the center, and to which the side aisles. if it is a big church with side aisles and gallery, and there are only six ushers, four will be put in the center aisle, and two in the side. guests who choose to sit up in the gallery find places for themselves. often, at a big wedding, the sexton or one of his assistants guards the entrance to the gallery and admission is reserved by cards for the employees of both families, but usually the gallery is open to those who care to go up. an usher whose "place" is in the side aisle may escort occasional personal friends of his own down the center aisle if he happens to be unoccupied at the moment of their entrance. those of the ushers who are the most likely to recognize the various close friends and members of each family are invariably detailed to the center aisle. a brother of the bride, for instance, is always chosen for this aisle because he is best fitted to look out for his own relatives and to place them according to their near or distant kinship. a second usher should be either a brother of the groom or a near relative who would be able to recognize the family and close friends of the groom. the first six to twenty pews on both sides of the center aisle are fenced off with white ribbons into a reserved enclosure. the parents of the bride always sit in the first pew on the left (facing the chancel); the parents of the groom always sit in the first pew on the right. the right hand side of the church is the groom's side always, the left is that of the bride. [illustration: a church wedding "in the city or country the church is decorated with masses of flowers, greens and sprays of flowers at the ends of the six to twenty reserved pews." [page .]] =seating the guests= it is the duty of the ushers to show all guests to their places. an usher offers his arm to each lady as she arrives, whether he knows her personally or not. if the vestibule is very crowded and several ladies are together, he sometimes gives his arm to the older and asks the others to follow. but this is not done unless the crowd is great and the time short. if the usher thinks a guest belongs in front of the ribbons though she fails to present her card, he always asks at once "have you a pew number?" if she has, he then shows her to her place. if she has none, he asks whether she prefers to sit on the bride's side or the groom's and gives her the best seat vacant in the unreserved part of the church. he generally makes a few polite remarks as he takes her up the aisle. such as: "i am so sorry you came late, all the good seats are taken further up." or "isn't it lucky they have such a beautiful day?" or "too bad it is raining." or, perhaps the lady is first in making a similar remark or two to him. whatever conversation there is, is carried on in a low voice, not, however, whispered or solemn. the deportment of the ushers should be natural but at the same time dignified and quiet in consideration of the fact that they are in church. they must not trot up and down the aisles in a bustling manner; yet they must be fairly agile, as the vestibule is packed with guests who have all to be seated as expeditiously as possible. the guests without reserved cards should arrive first in order to find good places; then come the reserved seat guests; and lastly, the immediate members of the families, who all have especial places in the front pews held for them. it is not customary for one who is in deep mourning to go to a wedding, but there can be little criticism of an intimate friend who takes a place in the gallery of the church from which she can see the ceremony and yet be apart from the wedding guests. at a wedding that is necessarily small because of mourning, the women of the family usually lay aside black for that one occasion and wear white. _in front of the ribbons_ there are two ways in which people "in front of the ribbons" are seated. the less efficient way is by means of a typewritten list of those for whom seats are reserved and of the pews in which they are to be seated, given to each usher, who has read it over for each guest who arrives at the church. from every point of view, the typewritten list is bad; first, it wastes time, and as everyone arrives at the same moment, and every lady is supposed to be taken personally up the aisle "on the arm" of an usher, the time consumed while each usher looks up each name on several gradually rumpling or tearing sheets of paper is easily imagined. besides which, one who is at all intimate with either family can not help feeling in some degree slighted when, on giving one's name, the usher looks for it in vain. the second, and far better method, is to have a pew card sent, enclosed with the wedding invitation, or an inscribed visiting card sent by either family. a guest who has a card with "pew no. " on it, knows, and the usher knows, exactly where she is to go. or if she has a card saying "reserved" or "before the ribbons" or any special mark that means in the reserved section but no especial pew, the usher puts her in the "best position available" behind the first two or three numbered rows that are saved for the immediate family, and in front of the ribbons marking the reserved enclosure. it is sometimes well for the head usher to ask the bride's mother if she is sure she has allowed enough pews in the reserved section to seat all those with cards. arranging definite seat numbers has one disadvantage; one pew may have every seat occupied and another may be almost empty. in that case an usher can, just before the procession is to form, shift a certain few people out of the crowded pews into the others. but it would be a breach of etiquette for people to re-seat themselves, and no one should be seated after the entrance of the bride's mother. =the bridegroom waits= meanwhile, about fifteen minutes before the wedding hour, the groom and his best man--both in morning coats, top-hats, boutonnières and white buckskin (but remember not shiny) gloves, walk or drive to the church and enter the side door which leads to the vestry. there they sit, or in the clergyman's study, until the sexton or an usher comes to say that the bride has arrived. =the perfectly managed wedding= at a perfectly managed wedding, the bride arrives exactly one minute (to give a last comer time to find place) after the hour. two or three servants have been sent to wait in the vestibule to help the bride and bridesmaids off with their wraps and hold them until they are needed after the ceremony. the groom's mother and father also are waiting in the vestibule. as the carriage of the bride's mother drives up, an usher goes as quickly as he can to tell the groom, and any brothers or sisters of the bride or groom, who are not to take part in the wedding procession and have arrived in their mother's carriage, are now taken by ushers to their places in the front pews. the moment the entire wedding party is at the church, the doors between the vestibule and the church are _closed_. no one is seated after this, except the parents of the young couple. the proper procedure should be carried out with military exactness, and is as follows: the groom's mother goes down the aisle on the arm of the head usher and takes her place in the first pew on the right; the groom's father follows alone, and takes his place beside her; the same usher returns to the vestibule and immediately escorts the bride's mother; he should then have time to return to the vestibule and take his place in the procession. the beginning of the wedding march should sound just as the usher returns to the head of the aisle. to repeat: _no other person should be seated after the mother of the bride._ guests who arrive later must stand in the vestibule or go into the gallery. the sound of the music is also the cue for the clergyman to enter the chancel, followed by the groom and his best man. the two latter wear gloves but have left their hats and sticks in the vestry-room. the groom stands on the right hand side at the head of the aisle, but if the vestry opens into the chancel, he sometimes stands at the top of the first few steps. he removes his right glove and holds it in his left hand. the best man remains always directly back and to the right of the groom, and does _not_ remove his glove. =here comes the bride= the description of the procession is given in detail on a preceding page in the "wedding rehearsal" section. starting on the right measure and keeping perfect time, the ushers come, two by two, four paces apart; then the bridesmaids (if any) at the same distance exactly; then the maid of honor alone; then the flower girls (if any); then, at a _double distance_, the bride on her father's right arm. she is dressed always in white, with a veil of lace or tulle. usually she carries a bridal bouquet of white flowers, either short, or with streamers (narrow ribbons with little bunches of blossoms on the end of each) or trailing vines, or maybe she holds a long sheaf of stiff flowers such as lilies on her arm. or perhaps she carries a prayer book instead of a bouquet. =the groom comes forward to meet the bride= as the bride approaches, the groom waits at the foot of the steps (unless he comes down the steps to meet her). the bride relinquishes her father's arm, changes her bouquet from her right to her left, and gives her right hand to the groom. the groom, taking her hand in his right puts it through his left arm--just her finger tips should rest near the bend of his elbow--and turns to face the chancel as he does so. it does not matter whether she takes his arm or whether they stand hand in hand at the foot of the chancel in front of the clergyman. =her father gives her away= her father has remained where she left him, on her left and a step or two behind her. the clergyman stands a step or two above them, and reads the betrothal. when he says "who giveth this woman to be married?" the father goes forward, still on her left, and half way between her and the clergyman, but not in front of either, the bride turns slightly toward her father, and gives him her right hand, the father puts her hand into that of the clergyman and says at the same moment: "i do!" he then takes his place next to his wife at the end of the first pew on the left. =the marriage ceremony= a soloist or the choir then sings while the clergyman slowly ascends to the altar, before which the marriage is performed. the bride and groom follow slowly, the fingers of her right hand on his left arm. the maid of honor, or else the first bridesmaid, moves out of line and follows on the left hand side until she stands immediately below the bride. the best man takes the same position exactly on the right behind the groom. at the termination of the anthem, the bride hands her bouquet to the maid of honor (or her prayer-book to the clergyman) and the bride and groom plight their troth. when it is time for the ring, the best man produces it from his pocket. if in the handling from best man to groom, to clergyman, to groom again, and finally to the bride's finger, it should slip and fall, the best man must pick it up if he can without searching; if not, he quietly produces the duplicate which all careful best men carry in the other waistcoat pocket, and the ceremony proceeds. the lost ring--or the unused extra one--is returned to the jeweler's next day. which ring, under the circumstances, the bride keeps, is a question as hard to answer as that of the lady or the tiger. would she prefer the substitute ring that was actually the one she was married with? or the one her husband bought and had marked for her? or would she prefer not to have a substitute ring and have the whole wedding party on their knees searching? she alone can decide. fortunately, even if the clergyman is very old and his hand shaky, a substitute is seldom necessary. the wedding ring must not be put above the engagement ring. on her wedding day a bride either leaves her engagement ring at home when she goes to church or wears it on her right hand. =after the ceremony= at the conclusion of the ceremony, the minister congratulates the new couple. the organ begins the recessional. the bride takes her bouquet from her maid of honor (who removes the veil if she wore one over her face). she then turns toward her husband--her bouquet in her right hand--and puts her left hand through his right arm, and they descend the steps. the maid of honor, handing her own bouquet to a second bridesmaid, follows a short distance after the bride, at the same time stooping and straightening out the long train and veil. the bride and groom go on down the aisle. the best man disappears into the vestry room. at a perfectly conducted wedding he does not walk down the aisle with the maid of honor. the maid of honor recovers her bouquet and walks alone. if a bridesmaid performs the office of maid of honor, she takes her place among her companion bridesmaids who go next; and the ushers go last. the best man has meanwhile collected the groom's belongings and dashed out of the side entrance and around to the front to give the groom his hat and stick. sometimes the sexton takes charge of the groom's hat and stick and hands them to him at the church door as he goes out. but in either case the best man always hurries around to see the bride and groom into their carriage, which has been standing at the entrance to the awning since she and her father alighted from it. all the other conveyances are drawn up in the reverse order from that in which they arrived. the bride's carriage leaves first, next come those of the bridesmaids, next the bride's mother and father, next the groom's mother and father, then the nearest members of both families, and finally all the other guests in the order of their being able to find their conveyances. the best man goes back to the vestry, where he gives the fee to the clergyman, collects his own hat, and coat if he has one, and goes to the bride's house. as soon as the recessional is over, the ushers hurry back and escort to the door all the ladies who were in the first pews, according to the order of precedence; the bride's mother first, then the groom's mother, then the other occupants of the first pew on either side, then the second and third pews, until all members of the immediate families have left the church. meanwhile it is a breach of etiquette for other guests to leave their places. at some weddings, just before the bride's arrival, the ushers run ribbons down the whole length of the center aisle, fencing the congregation in. as soon as the occupants of the first pews have left, the ribbons are removed and all the other guests go out by themselves, the ushers having by that time hurried to the bride's house to make themselves useful at the reception. =at the house= an awning makes a covered way from the edge of the curb to the front door. at the lower end the chauffeur (or one of the caterer's men) stands to open the carriage door; and give return checks to the chauffeurs and their employers. inside the house the florist has finished, an orchestra is playing in the hall or library, everything is in perfect order. the bride and groom have taken their places in front of the elaborate setting of flowering plants that has been arranged for them. the bride stands on her husband's right and her bridesmaids are either grouped beyond her or else divided, half on her side and half on the side of the groom, forming a crescent with bride and groom in the center. =ushers at the house= at a small wedding the duty of ushers is personally to take guests up to the bride and groom. but at a big reception where guests outnumber ushers fifty or a hundred to one, being personally conducted is an honor accorded only to the very old, the very celebrated or the usher's own best friends. all the other guests stand in a long congested line by themselves. the bride's mother takes her place somewhere near the entrance of the room, and it is for her benefit that her own butler or one furnished by the caterer, asks each guest his name and then repeats it aloud. the guests shake hands with the hostess, and making some polite remark about the "beautiful wedding" or "lovely bride," continue in line to the bridal pair. =wedding conversation= what you should say in congratulating a bridal couple depends on how well you know one, or both of them. but remember it is a breach of good manners to congratulate a bride on having secured a husband. if you are unknown to both of them, and in a long queue, it is not even necessary to give your name. you merely shake hands with the groom, say a formal word or two such as "congratulations!"; shake hands with the bride, say "i wish you every happiness!" and pass on. if you know them fairly well, you may say to him "i hope your good luck will stay with you always!" or "i certainly do congratulate you!" and to her "i hope your whole life will be one long happiness," or, if you are much older than she, "you look too lovely, dear mary, and i hope you will always be as radiant as you look to-day!" or, if you are a woman and a relative or really close friend, you kiss the groom, saying, "all the luck in the world to you, dear jim, she certainly is lovely!" or, kissing the bride, "mary, darling, every good wish in the world to you!" to all the above, the groom and bride answer merely "thank you." a man might say to the groom "good luck to you, jim, old man!" or, "she is the most lovely thing i have ever seen!" and to her, "i hope you will have every happiness!" or "i was just telling jim how lucky i think he is! i hope you will both be very happy!" or, if a very close friend, also kissing the bride, "all the happiness you can think of isn't as much as i wish you, mary dear!" but it cannot be too much emphasized that promiscuous kissing among the guests is an offense against good taste. to a relative, or old friend of the bride, but possibly a stranger to the groom, the bride always introduces her husband saying, "jim, this is aunt kate!" or, "mrs. neighbor, you know jim, don't you?" or formally, "mrs. faraway, may i present my husband?" the groom on the approach of an old friend of his, says, "mary, this is cousin carrie." or, "mrs. denver, do you know mary?" or, "hello, steve, let me introduce you to my wife; mary, this is steve michigan." steve says "how do you do, mrs. smartlington!" and mary says, "of course, i have often heard jim speak of you!" the bride with a good memory thanks each arriving person for the gift sent her: "thank you so much for the lovely candlesticks," or "i can't tell you how much i love the dishes!" the person who is thanked says, "i am so glad you like it (or them)," or "i am so glad! i hoped you might find it useful." or "i didn't have it marked, so that in case you have a duplicate, you can change it." conversation is never a fixed grouping of words that are learned or recited like a part in a play; the above examples are given more to indicate the sort of things people in good society usually say. there is, however, one rule: do not launch into long conversation or details of _yourself_, how you feel or look or what happened to you, or what _you_ wore when you were married! your subject must not deviate from the young couple themselves, their wedding, their future. also be brief in order not to keep those behind waiting longer than necessary. if you have anything particular to tell them, you can return later when there is no longer a line. but even then, long conversation, especially concerning yourself, is out of place. =parents of the groom= the groom's mother always receives either near the bride's mother or else continuing the line beyond the bridesmaids, and it is proper for every guest to shake hands with her too, whether they know her or not, but it is not necessary to say anything. the bride's father sometimes stands beside his wife but he usually circulates among his guests just as he would at a ball or any other party where he is host. the groom's father is a guest and it is not necessary for strangers to speak to him, unless he stands beside his wife and, as it were, "receives," but there is no impropriety in any one telling him how well they know and like his son or his new daughter-in-law. the guests, as soon as they have congratulated the bride and groom, go out and find themselves places (if it is to be a sit-down breakfast) at a table. =details of a sit-down breakfast= unless the house is remarkable in size, there is usually a canopied platform built next to the veranda or on the lawn or over the yard of a city house. the entire space is packed with little tables surrounding the big one reserved for the bridal party, and at a large breakfast a second table is reserved for the parents of the bride and groom and a few close, and especially invited, friends. place cards are not put on any of the small tables. all the guests, except the few placed at the two reserved tables, sit with whom they like; sometimes by pre-arrangement, but usually where they happen to find friends--and room! the general sit-down breakfast--except in great houses like a few of those in newport--is always furnished by a caterer, who brings all the food, tables, chairs, napery, china and glass, as well as the necessary waiters. the butler and footmen belonging in the house may assist or oversee, or detail themselves to other duties. small _menu_ cards printed in silver are put on all the tables. sometimes these cards have the crest of the bride's father embossed at the top, but usually the entwined initials of the bride and groom are stamped in silver to match the wedding cake boxes. example: [illustration: bouillon lobster newburg suprême of chicken peas aspic of foie gras celery salad ices coffee] instead of bouillon, there may be caviar or melon, or grape fruit, or a purée, or clam broth. for lobster newburg may be soft-shell crabs or oyster pâté, or other fish. or the bouillon may be followed by a dish such as sweetbreads and mushrooms, or chicken pâtés, or broiled chicken (a half of a chicken for each guest) or squab, with salad such as whole tomatoes filled with celery. or the chicken or squab may be the second course, and an aspic with the salad, the third. individual ices are accompanied by little cakes of assorted variety. there used always to be champagne; a substitute is at best "a poor thing," and what the prevailing one is to be, is as yet not determined. orange juice and ginger ale, or white grape juice and ginger ale with sugar and mint leaves are two attempts at a satisfying cup that have been offered lately. =the bride's table= the feature of the wedding breakfast is always the bride's table. placed sometimes in the dining-room, sometimes on the veranda or in a room apart, this table is larger and more elaborately decorated than any of the others. there are white garlands or sprays or other arrangement of white flowers, and in the center as chief ornament is an elaborately iced wedding cake. on the top it has a bouquet of white or silver flowers, or confectioner's quaint dolls representing the bride and groom. the top is usually made like a cover so that when the time comes for the bride to cut it, it is merely lifted off. the bride always cuts the cake, meaning that she inserts the knife and makes one cut through the cake, after which each person cuts herself or himself a slice. if there are two sets of favors hidden in the cake, there is a mark in the icing to distinguish the bridesmaids' side from that of the ushers. articles, each wrapped in silver foil, have been pushed through the bottom of the cake at intervals; the bridesmaids find a ten-cent piece for riches, a little gold ring for "first to be married," a thimble or little parrot or cat for "old maid," a wish-bone for the "luckiest." on the ushers' side, a button or dog is for the bachelor, and a miniature pair of dice as a symbol of lucky chance in life. the ring and ten-cent piece are the same. if a big piece of the wedding cake is left, the bride's mother has it wrapped in tin foil and put in a sealed tin box and kept for the bride to open on her first anniversary. the evolution of the wedding cake began in ancient rome where brides carried wheat ears in their left hands. later, anglo-saxon brides wore the wheat made into chaplets, and gradually the belief developed that a young girl who ate of the grains of wheat which became scattered on the ground, would dream of her future husband. the next step was the baking of a thin dry biscuit which was broken over the bride's head and the crumbs divided amongst the guests. the next step was in making richer cake; then icing it, and the last instead of having it broken over her head, the bride broke it herself into small pieces for the guests. later she cut it with a knife. =the table of the bride's parents= the table of the bride's parents differs from other tables in nothing except in its larger size, and the place cards for those who have been invited to sit there. the groom's father always sits on the right of the bride's mother, and the groom's mother has the place of honor on the host's right. the other places at the table are occupied by distinguished guests who may or may not include the clergyman who performed the ceremony. if a bishop or dean performed the ceremony, he is always included at this table and is placed at the left of the hostess, and his wife, if present, sits at the bride's father's left. otherwise only especially close friends of the bride's parents are invited to this table. =the wedding cake= in addition to the big cake on the bride's table, there are at all weddings, near the front door so that the guests may each take one as they go home, little individual boxes of wedding cake, "black" fruit cake. each box is made of white moiré or gros-grain paper, embossed in silver with the last initial of the groom intertwined with that of the bride and tied with white satin ribbon. at a sit-down breakfast the wedding cake boxes are sometimes put, one at each place, on the tables so that each guest may be sure of receiving one, and other "thoughtless" ones prevented from carrying more than their share away. =the standing breakfast or reception= the standing breakfast differs from the sit-down breakfast in service only. instead of numerous small tables at which the guests are served with a course luncheon, a single long one is set in the dining-room. (the regular table pulled out to its farthest extent.) it is covered with a plain white damask cloth--or it may be of embroidered linen and lace insertion. in the center is usually a bowl or vase or other centerpiece, of white flowers. on it are piles of plates, stacks of napkins and rows of spoons and forks at intervals, making four or possibly six piles altogether. always there are dishes filled with little fancy cakes, chosen as much for looks as for taste. there is usually a big urn at one end filled with bouillon and one at the other filled with chocolate or tea. in four evenly spaced places are placed two cold dishes such as an aspic of chicken, or ham mousse, or a terrine de foie gras, or other aspic. the hot dishes may be a boned capon, vol-au-vent of sweetbread and mushrooms, creamed oysters, chicken à la king, or chicken croquettes; or there may be cold cuts, or celery salad, in tomato aspic. whatever the choice may be, there are two or three cold dishes and at least two hot. whatever there is, must be selected with a view to its being easily eaten with a fork while the plate is held in the other hand! there are also rolls and biscuits, pâté de foie gras or lettuce and tomato sandwiches, the former made usually of split "dinner" rolls with pâté between, or thin sandwiches rolled like a leaf in which a moth has built a cocoon. ices are brought in a little later, when a number of persons have apparently finished their "first course." ice cream is quite as fashionable as individual "ices." it is merely that caterers are less partial to it because it has to be cut. after-dinner coffee is put on a side table, as the champagne used to be. from now on there will probably be a bowl or pitchers of something with a lump of ice in it that can be ladled into glasses and become whatever those gifted with imagination may fancy. unless the wedding is very small, there is always a bride's table, decorated exactly as that described for a sit-down breakfast, and placed usually in the library, but there is no especial table for the bride's mother and her guests--or for anyone else. =the bridal party eat= by the time the sit-down breakfast has reached its second course and the queue of arriving guests has dwindled and melted away, the bride and groom decide that it is time they too go to breakfast. arm in arm they lead the way to their own table followed by the ushers and bridesmaids. the bride and groom always sit next to each other, she on his right; the maid of honor (or matron) is on his left, and the best man is on the right of the bride. around the rest of the table come bridesmaids and ushers alternately. sometimes one or two others--sisters of the bride or groom or intimate friends, who were not included in the wedding party, are asked to the table, and when there are no bridesmaids this is always the case. the decoration of the table, the service, the food, is exactly the same whether the other guests are seated or standing. at dessert, the bride cuts the cake, and the bridesmaids and ushers find the luck pieces. =dancing at the wedding= on leaving their table, the bridal party join the dancing which by now has begun in the drawing-room where the wedding group received. the bride and groom dance at first together, and then each with bridesmaids or ushers or other guests. sometimes they linger so long that those who had intended staying for the "going away" grow weary and leave--which is often exactly what the young couple want! unless they have to catch a train, they always stay until the "crowd thins" before going to dress for their journey. at last the bride signals to her bridesmaids and leaves the room. they all gather at the foot of the stairs; about half way to the upper landing as she goes up, she throws her bouquet, and they all try to catch it. the one to whom it falls is supposed to be the next married. if she has no bridesmaids, she sometimes collects a group of other young girls and throws her bouquet to them. =into traveling clothes= the bride goes up to the room that has always been hers, followed by her mother, sisters and bridesmaids, who stay with her while she changes into her traveling clothes. a few minutes after the bride has gone up-stairs, the groom goes to the room reserved for him, and changes into the ordinary sack suit which the best man has taken there for him before the ceremony. he does _not_ wear his top hat nor his wedding boutonnière. the groom's clothes should be "apparently" new, but need not actually be so. the bride's clothes, on the other hand, are always brand new--every article that she has on. =the going-away dress= a bride necessarily chooses her going-away dress according to the journey she is to make. if she is starting off in an open motor, she wears a suitably small motor hat and a wrap of some sort over whatever dress (or suit) she chooses. if she is going on a train or boat, she wears a "traveling" dress, such as she would choose under ordinary circumstances. if she is going to a nearby hotel or a country house put at her disposal, she wears the sort of dress and hat suitable to town or country occasion. she should not dress as though about to join a circus parade or the ornaments on a christmas tree, unless she wants to be stared at and commented upon in a way that no one of good breeding can endure. the average bride and groom of good taste and feeling try to be as inconspicuous as possible. on one occasion, in order to hide the fact that they were "bride and groom," a young couple "went away" in their oldest clothes and were very much pleased with their cleverness, until, pulling out his handkerchief, the groom scattered rice all over the floor of the parlor car. the bride's lament after this was--"why had she not worn her prettiest things?" the groom, having changed his clothes, waits up-stairs, in the hall generally, until the bride emerges from her room in her traveling clothes. all the ushers shake hands with them both. his immediate family, as well as hers, have gradually collected--any that are missing must unfailingly be sent for. the bride's mother gives her a last kiss, her bridesmaids hurry downstairs to have plenty of rice ready and to tell everyone below as they descend "they are coming!" a passage from the stairway and out of the front door, all the way to the motor, is left free between two rows of eager guests, their hands full of rice. upon the waiting motor the ushers have tied everything they can lay their hands on in the way of white ribbons and shoes and slippers. =here they come!= at last the groom appears at the top of the stairs, a glimpse of the bride behind him. it surely is running the gauntlet! they seemingly count "one, two, three, go!" with shoulders hunched and collars held tight to their necks, they run through shrapnel of rice, down the stairs, out through the hall, down the outside steps, into the motor, slam the door, and are off! the wedding guests stand out on the street or roadway looking after them for as long as a vestige can be seen--and then gradually disperse. occasionally young couples think it clever to slip out of the area-way, or over the roofs, or out of the cellar and across the garden. all this is supposed to be in order to avoid being deluged with rice and having labels of "newly wed" or large white bows and odd shoes and slippers tied to their luggage. most brides, however, agree with their guests that it is decidedly "spoil sport" to deprive a lot of friends (who have only their good luck at heart) of the perfectly legitimate enjoyment of throwing emblems of good luck after them. if one white slipper among those thrown after the motor lands right side up, on top of it, and stays there, greatest good fortune is sure to follow through life. there was a time when the "going away carriage" was always furnished by the groom, and this is still the case if it is a hired conveyance, but nowadays when nearly everyone has a motor, the newly married couple--if they have no motor of their own--are sure to have one lent them by the family of one of them. very often they have two motors and are met by a second car at an appointed place, into which they change after shaking themselves free of rice. the white ribboned car returns to the house, as well as the decorated and labeled luggage, which was all empty--their real luggage having been bestowed safely by the best man that morning in their hotel or boat or train. or, it may be that they choose a novel journey, for there is, of course, no regulation vehicle. they can go off in a limousine, a pony cart, a yacht, a canoe, on horseback or by airplane. fancy alone limits the mode of travel, suggests the destination, or directs the etiquette of a honeymoon. =bride's first duty of thought for groom's parents= at the end of the wedding there is one thing the bride must not forget. as soon as she is in her traveling dress, she must send a bridesmaid or someone out into the hall and ask her husband's parents to come and say good-by to her. if his parents have not themselves come up-stairs to see their son, the bride must have them sent for at once! it is very easy for a bride to forget this act of thoughtfulness and for a groom to overlook the fact that he can not stop to kiss his mother good-by on his way out of the house, and many a mother seeing her son and new daughter rush past without even a glance from either of them, has returned home with an ache in her heart. it sounds improbable, doesn't it? one naturally exclaims, "but how stupid of her, why didn't she go up-stairs? why didn't her son send for her?" usually she does, or he does. but often the groom's parents are strangers; and if by temperament they are shy or retiring people they hesitate to go up-stairs in an unknown house until they are invited to. so they wait, feeling sure that in good time they will be sent for. meanwhile the bride "forgets" and it does not occur to the groom that unless he makes an effort while up-stairs there will be no opportunity in the dash down to the carriage to recognize them--or anyone. =flippancy vs. radiance= a completely beautiful wedding is not merely a combination of wonderful flowers, beautiful clothes, smoothness of detail, delicious food. these, though all necessary, are external attributes. the spirit, or soul of it, must have something besides; and that "something" is in the behavior and in the expression of the bride and groom. the most beautiful wedding ever imagined could be turned from sacrament to circus by the indecorous behavior of the groom and the flippancy of the bride. she, above all, must not reach up and wig-wag signals while she is receiving, any more than she must wave to people as she goes up and down the aisle of the church. she must not cling to her husband, stand pigeon-toed, or lean against him or the wall, or any person, or thing. she must not run her arm through his and let her hand flop on the other side; she must not swing her arms as though they were dangling rope; she must not switch herself this way and that, nor must she "hello" or shout. no matter how young or "natural" and thoughtless she may be, she _must_, during the ceremony and the short time that she stands beside her husband at the reception, assume that she has dignity. it is not by chance that the phrase "happy pair" is one of the most trite in our language, for happiness above all is the inner essential that must dominate a perfect wedding. an unhappy looking bride, an unwilling looking groom, turns the greatest wedding splendor into sham; without love it is a sacrament inadvisedly entered into, and the sight of a tragic-faced bride strikes chill to the heart. the radiance of a truly happy bride is so beautifying that even a plain girl is made pretty, and a pretty one, divine. there is something glad yet sweet, shy yet triumphant, serious yet--radiant! there is no other way to put it. and a happy groom looks first of all protective--he, too, may have the quality of radiance, but it is different--more directly glad. they both look as though there were sunlight behind their eyes, as though their mouths irresistibly turned to smiles. no other quality of a bride's expression is so beautiful as radiance; that visible proof of perfect happiness which endears its possessor to all beholders and gives to the simplest little wedding complete beauty. =the house wedding= a house wedding involves slightly less expenditure but has the disadvantage of limiting the number of guests. the ceremony is exactly the same as that in a church, excepting that the procession advances through an aisle of white satin ribbons from the stairs down which the bridal party descends, to the improvised altar. a small space near the altar is fenced off with other ribbons, for the family. there is a low rail of some sort back of which the clergyman stands, and something for the bride and groom to kneel on during the prayers of the ceremony. the prayer bench is usually about six or eight inches high, and between three and four feet long; at the back of it an upright on either end supports a crosspiece--or altar rail. it can be made in roughest fashion by any carpenter, or amateur, as it is entirely hidden under leaves and flowers. on the kneeling surface of the bench are placed cushions rather than flowers, because the latter stain. all caterers have the necessary standards to which ribbons are tied, like the wires to telegraph poles. the top of each standard is usually decorated with a spray of white flowers. at a house wedding the bride's mother stands at the door of the drawing-room--or wherever the ceremony is to be--and receives people as they arrive. but the groom's mother merely takes her place near the altar with the rest of the immediate family. the ushers are purely ornamental, unless the house is so large that "pews" have been installed, and the guests are seated as in a church. otherwise the guests stand wherever they can find places behind the aisle ribbons. just before the bride's entrance, her mother goes forward and stands in the reserved part of the room. the ushers go up to the top of the stairway. the wedding march begins and the ushers come down two and two, followed by the bridesmaids, exactly as in a church, the bride coming last on her father's arm. the clergyman and the groom and best man have, if possible, reached the altar by another door. if the room has only one door, they go up the aisle a few moments before the bridal procession starts. the chief difference between a church and house wedding is that the bride and groom do not take a single step together. the groom meets her at the point where the service is read. after the ceremony, there is no recessional. the clergyman withdraws, an usher removes the prayer bench, and the bride and groom merely turn where they stand, and receive the congratulations of their guests, unless, of course, the house is so big that they receive in another room. [illustration: "an attractive altar arrangement for a house wedding." [page .]] when there is no recessional, the groom always kisses the bride before they turn to receive their guests--it is against all tradition for any one to kiss her before her husband does. there are seldom many bridal attendants at a house wedding, two to four ushers, and one to four bridesmaids, unless the house is an immense one. in the country a house wedding includes one in a garden, with a wedding procession under the trees, and tables out on the lawn--a perfect plan for california or other rainless states, but difficult to arrange on the atlantic seaboard where rain is too likely to spoil everything. =the wedding in assembly rooms= those whose houses are very small and yet who wish to have a general reception, sometimes give the wedding breakfast in a hotel or assembly rooms. the preparations are identical with those in a private house, the decorations and menu may be lavish or simple. although it is perfectly good form to hold a wedding reception in a ballroom, a breakfast in a private house, no matter how simple, has greater distinction than the most elaborate collation in a public establishment. why this is so, is hard to determine. it is probably that without a "home" atmosphere, though it may be a brilliant entertainment, the sentiment is missing. =the second marriage= the detail of a spinster's wedding is the same whether she marries a bachelor or a widower, the difference being that a widower does not give a "bachelor" dinner. the marriage of a widow is the same as that of a maid except that she cannot wear white or orange blossoms, which are emblems of virginity, nor does she have bridesmaids. usually a widow chooses a very quiet wedding, but there is no reason why she should not have a "big wedding" if she cares to, except that somber ushers and a bride in traveling dress, or at best a light afternoon one with a hat, does not make an effective processional--unless she is beautiful enough to compensate for all that is missing. a wedding in very best taste for a widow would be a ceremony in a small church or chapel, a few flowers or palms in the chancel the only decoration, and two to four ushers. there are no ribboned-off seats, as only very intimate friends are asked. the bride wears an afternoon street dress and hat. her dress for a church ceremony should be more conventional than if she were married at home, where she could wear a semi-evening gown and substitute a headdress for a hat. she could even wear a veil if it is colored and does not suggest the bridal white one. a celebrated beauty wore for her second wedding in her own house, a dress of gold brocade, with a russian court headdress and a veil of yellow tulle down the back. another wore a dress of gray and a dutch cap of silver lace, and had her little girl in quaint cap and long dress, to match her own, as maid of honor. a widow has never more than one attendant and most often none. there may be a sit-down breakfast afterwards, or the simplest afternoon tea; in any case, the breakfast is, if possible, at the bride's own house, and the bridal pair may either stay where they are and have their guests take leave of them, or themselves drive away afterwards. very intimate friends send presents for a second marriage but general acquaintances are never expected to. =summary of expenses= all the expenses of a wedding belong to the bride's parents; the invitations are issued by them, the reception is at their house, and the groom's family are little more than ordinary guests. the cost of a wedding varies as much as the cost of anything else that one has or does. a big fashionable wedding can total far up in the thousands and even the simplest entails considerable outlay, which can, however, be modified by those who are capable of doing things themselves instead of employing professional service at every point. =the parents of the bride provide= . engraved invitations and cards. . the service of a professional secretary who compiles a single list from the various ones sent her, addresses the envelopes, both inner and outer; encloses the proper number of cards, seals, stamps and mails all the invitations. (this item can be omitted and the work done by the family.) . the biggest item of expense--the trousseau of the bride, which may consist not alone of wearing apparel of endless variety and lavish detail, but household linen of finest quality (priceless in these days) and in quantity sufficient for a lifetime; or it may consist of the wedding dress, and even that a traveling one, and one or two others, with barest essentials and few accessories. . awnings for church and house. this may be omitted at the house in good weather, at the church, and also in the country. . decorations of church and house. cost can be eliminated by amateurs using garden or field flowers. . choir, soloists and organist at church. (choir and soloists unnecessary.) . orchestra at house. (this may mean fifty pieces with two leaders or it may mean a piano, violin and drum, or a violin, harp and guitar.) . carriages or motors for the bridal party from house to church and back. . the collation, which may be the most elaborate sit-down luncheon or the simplest afternoon tea. . boxes of wedding cake. . champagne--used to be one of the biggest items, as a fashionable wedding without plenty of it was unheard of. perhaps though, pocketbooks may have less relief on account of its omission than would at first seem probable, since what is saved on the wine bill is made up for on the additional food necessary to make the best wineless menu seem other than meagre. . the bride's presents to her bridesmaids. (may be jewels of value or trinkets of trifling cost.) . a wedding present to the bride from each member of her family--not counting her trousseau which is merely part of the wedding. . the bride gives a "wedding present" or a "wedding" ring or both to the groom, if she especially wants to. (not necessary nor even customary.) =the groom's expenses are= . the engagement ring--as handsome as he can possibly afford. . a wedding present--jewels if he is able, always something for her personal adornment. . his bachelor dinner. . the marriage license. . a personal gift to his best man and each of his ushers. . to each of the above he gives their wedding ties, gloves and boutonnières. . the bouquet carried by the bride. in many cities it is said to be the custom for the bride to send boutonnières to the ushers and for the groom to order the bouquets of the bridesmaids. in new york's smart world, the bridesmaids' bouquets are looked upon as part of the decorative arrangement, all of which is in the province of the bride's parents. . the wedding ring. . the clergyman's fee. . from the moment the bride and groom start off on their wedding trip, all the expenditure becomes his. =wedding anniversaries= year, paper years, wood years, tin years, crystal years, china years, silver years, gold years, diamond wedding anniversaries are celebrated in any number of ways. the "party" may be one of two alone or it may be a dance. most often it is a dinner, and occasionally, an afternoon tea. in germany a silver wedding is a very important event and a great celebration is made of it, but in america it is not very good form to ask any but intimate friends and family to an anniversary party--especially as those bidden are supposed to send presents. these need not, however, be of value; in fact the paper, wooden and tin wedding presents are seldom anything but jokes. crystal is the earliest that is likely to be taken seriously by the gift-bearers. silver is always serious, and the golden wedding a quite sacred event. most usually this last occasion is celebrated by a large family dinner to which all the children and grandchildren are bidden. or the married couple perhaps choose an afternoon at home and receive their friends and neighbors, who are, of course, supposed to brings presents made of gold. chapter xxiii christenings a child can, of course, be christened without making a festivity of it at all--just as two people can be married with none but the clergyman and two witnesses--but nearly every mother takes this occasion to see her friends and show her baby to them. invitations to a christening are never formal, because none but the family and a very few intimate friends are supposed to be asked. in this day invitations are nearly all sent over the telephone, except to those who are at a distance, or else friends are asked verbally when seen; but it is both correct and polite to write notes. such as: dear mrs. kindhart: the baby is to be christened here at home, next sunday at half past four, and we hope you and mr. kindhart--and the children if they care to--will come. affectionately, lucy gilding. if a telephone message is sent, the form is: "mr. and mrs. gilding, jr. would like mr. and mrs. norman to come to the baby's christening on sunday at half past four, at their house." =asking the godparents= before setting the date for the christening, the godmothers (two for a girl and one for a boy) and the godfathers (two for a boy and one for a girl) have, of course, already been chosen. if a godfather (or mother) after having given his consent is abroad or otherwise out of reach at the time of the christening, a proxy takes part in the ceremony instead, and without thereby becoming a godfather. since godparents are always most intimate friends, it is natural to ask them when they come to see the mother and the baby (which they probably do often) or to write them if at a distance. sometimes they are asked at the same time that the baby's arrival is announced to them, occasionally even before. the gilding baby, for instance, supposedly sent the following telegram: mrs. richard worldly, great estates. i arrived last night and my mother and father were very glad to see me, and i am now eagerly waiting to see you. your loving godson, robert gilding, d. but more usually a godparent at a distance is telegraphed: john strong, equitrust, paris. it's a boy. will you be godfather? gilding. but in any case a formally worded request is out of place. do _not_ write: "my husband and i sincerely hope that you will consent to be our son's godmother," etc. any one so slightly known as this wording implies would not be asked to fill so close a position as that of godmother without great presumption on your part. you must never ask any one to be a godmother or godfather whom you do not know intimately well, as it is a responsibility not lightly to be undertaken and impossible to refuse. godparents should, however, be chosen from among friends rather than relatives, since the sole advantage of godparents is that they add to the child's relatives, so that if it should be left alone in the world, its godparents become its protectors. but where a child is born with plenty of relatives who can be called upon for advice and affection and assistance in event of his or her becoming an orphan, godparents are often chosen from among them. nothing could be more senseless, however, than choosing grandparents, since the relationship is as close as can be anyway, and the chances that the parents will outlive their own parents make such a choice still more unsuitable. in france, the godmother is considered, next to the parents and grandparents, the nearest relative a child can have. in some european countries, the queen or another who is above the parents in rank, assumes a special protectorate over her godchild. in this instance the godmother appoints herself. in america a similar situation cannot very well exist; though on rare occasions an employer volunteers to stand as godfather for an employee's child. godparents must, of course, give the baby a present, if not before, at least at the christening. the standard "gift" is a silver mug, a porringer, or a knife, fork and spoon, marked usually with the baby's name and that of the giver. robert gilding, d from his godfather john strong or the presents may be anything else they fancy. in new england a very rich godfather sometimes gives the baby a bond which is kept with interest intact until a girl is eighteen or a boy twenty-one. =time of christening= in other days of stricter observances a baby was baptized in the catholic and high episcopal church on the first or at least second sunday after its birth. but to-day the christening is usually delayed at least until the young mother is up and about again; often it is put off for months and in some denominations children need not be christened until they are several years old. the most usual age is from two to six months. if the family is very high church or the baby is delicate and its christening therefore takes place when it is only a week or two old, the mother is carried into the drawing-room and put on a sofa near the improvised font. she is dressed in a becoming negligé and perhaps a cap, and with lace pillows behind her and a cover equally decorative over her feet. the guests in this event are only the family and the fewest possible intimate friends. =the christening in church= in arranging for the ceremony the clergyman, of course, is consulted and the place and hour arranged. if it is to be in church, it can take place at the close of the regular service on sunday, but if a good deal is to be made of the christening, a week day is chosen and an hour when the church is not being otherwise used. the decorations, if any at all, consist of a few palms or some flowering plants grouped around the font, and the guests invited for the christening take places in the pews which are nearest to the font, wherever that happens to be. as soon as the clergyman appears, the baby's coat and cap are taken off (in any convenient pew, not necessarily the nearest one), and the godmother, holding the baby in her arms, stands directly in front of the clergyman. the other godparents stand beside her and other relatives and friends nearby. the godmother who is holding the baby must be sure to pronounce its name distinctly--in fact it is a wise precaution if it is a long or an unusual one, to show the name printed on a slip of paper to the clergyman beforehand--as more than one baby has been given a name not intended for it. and whatever name the clergyman pronounces is fixed for life. the little town girl who was to have been called marian is actually mary ann! as soon as the ceremony is over, the godmother hands the baby back to its nurse, who puts on its cap and coat, and it is then driven with all its relatives and friends to the house of its parents or grandparents, where a lunch or an afternoon tea has been arranged. =house christening= unless forbidden by the church to which the baby's parents belong, the house christening is by far the easier, safer and prettier. easier, because the baby does not have to have wraps put on and off and be taken out and brought in; safer, because it is not apt to catch cold; and prettier, for a dozen reasons. the baby in the first place looks much prettier in a dress that has not been crushed by having a coat put over it and taken off and put on and off again. in the second place, a baby brought down from the nursery without any fussing is generally "good," whereas one that has been dressed and undressed and taken hither and yon is apt to be upset and therefore to cry. if it cries in church it just has to cry! in a house it can be taken into another room and be brought back again after it has been made "more comfortable." it is trying to a young mother who is proud of her baby's looks, to go to no end of trouble to get exquisite clothes for it, and ask all her friends in, and then have it look exactly like a tragedy mask carved in a beet! and you can scarcely expect a self-respecting baby who is hauled and mauled and taken to a strange place and handed to a strange person who pours cold water on it--not to protest. and alas! it has only one means. the arrangements made for a house christening are something like those made for a house wedding--only much simpler. the drawing-room or wherever the ceremony is to be performed is often decorated with pots of pale pink roses, or daisies, or branches of dogwood or white lilacs. nothing is prettier than the blossoms of fruit trees (if they can be persuaded to keep their petals on) or any other spring flowers. in summer there are all the garden flowers. in autumn, cosmos and white chrysanthemums, or at any season, baby's breath and roses. the "font" is always a bowl--of silver usually--put on a small high table. a white napkin on the table inevitably suggests a restaurant rather than a ritual and is therefore unfortunate, and most people of taste prefer to have the table covered with old church brocade and an arrangement of flowers either standing behind or laid upon it so that the stems are toward the center and covered by the base of the bowl. if the clergyman is to wear vestments, a room must be put at his disposal. at the hour set for the ceremony, the clergyman enters the room first and takes his place at the font. the guests naturally make way, forming an open aisle. if not, the baby's father or another member of the family clears an aisle. the godmother carries the baby and follows the clergyman; the other two godparents walk behind her, and all three stand near the font. at the proper moment the clergyman takes the baby, baptizes it and hands it back to the godmother, who holds it until the ceremony is over. =the christening dress= the christening dress is always especially elaborate and beautiful. often it is one that was worn by the baby's mother, father, or even its grand or great-grandparent. baby clothes should be as sheer as possible and as soft. the ideal dress is of mull with much or little valenciennes lace (real) and finest hand embroidery. but however much or little its trimming, it must be exquisite in texture. in fact, everything for a baby ought to be hand-made. it can be as plain as a charity garment, but of fine material and tiny hand stitches. if the baby is very little, it is usually laid on a lace trimmed pillow. (this lace, too, must be valenciennes.) the godmother or godmothers should wear the sort of clothes that they would wear at an afternoon tea. the godfather or fathers should wear formal afternoon clothes. the other guests wear ordinary afternoon clothes and the mother--unless on the sofa--wears a light-colored afternoon dress. she should not wear black on this occasion. as soon as the ceremony is performed, the clergyman goes to the room that was set apart for him, changes into his ordinary clothes and then returns to the drawing-room to be one of the guests at luncheon or tea. the godmother hands the baby to the nurse, or maybe to its mother, and everyone gathers around to admire it. and the party becomes exactly like every informal afternoon tea. the only difference between an ordinary informal tea and a christening is that a feature of the latter is a christening cake and caudle. the christening cake is generally a white "lady" cake elaborately iced, sometimes with the baby's initials, and garlands of pink sugar roses. and although according to cook-books caudle is a gruel, the actual "caudle" invariably served at christenings is a hot eggnog, drunk out of little punch cups. one is supposed to eat the cake as a sign that one partakes of the baby's hospitality, and is therefore its friend, and to drink the caudle to its health and prosperity. but by this time the young host (or hostess) is peacefully asleep in the nursery. chapter xxiv funerals at no time does solemnity so possess our souls as when we stand deserted at the brink of darkness into which our loved one has gone. and the last place in the world where we would look for comfort at such a time is in the seeming artificiality of etiquette; yet it is in the moment of deepest sorrow that etiquette performs its most vital and real service. all set rules for social observance have for their object the smoothing of personal contacts, and in nothing is smoothness so necessary as in observing the solemn rites accorded our dead. it is the time-worn servitor, etiquette, who draws the shades, who muffles the bell, who keeps the house quiet, who hushes voices and footsteps and sudden noises; who stands between well-meaning and importunate outsiders and the retirement of the bereaved; who decrees that the last rites shall be performed smoothly and with beauty and gravity, so that the poignancy of grief may in so far as possible be assuaged. =first details= as soon as death occurs, some one (the trained nurse usually) draws the blinds in the sick-room and tells a servant to draw all the blinds of the house. if they are not already present, the first act of some one at the bedside is to telephone or telegraph the immediate members of the family, the clergyman and the sexton of the church to which the family belong, and possibly one or two closest friends, whose competence and sympathy can be counted on--as there are many things which must be done for the stricken family as well as for the deceased. (the sexton of nearly every protestant church is also undertaker. if he is not, then an outside funeral director is sent for.) if the illness has been a long one, it may be that the family has become attached to the trained nurse and no one is better fitted than she to turn her ministrations from the one whom she can no longer help, to those who have now very real need of just such care as she can give. if the death was sudden, or the nurse unsympathetic or for other reasons unavailable, then a relative or a near friend of practical sympathy is the ideal attendant in charge. =consideration for the family= persons under the shock of genuine affliction are not only upset mentally but are all unbalanced physically. no matter how calm and controlled they seemingly may be, no one can under such circumstances be normal. their disturbed circulation makes them cold, their distress makes them unstrung, sleepless. persons they normally like, they often turn from. no one should ever be forced upon those in grief, and all over-emotional people, no matter how near or dear, should be barred absolutely. although the knowledge that their friends love them and sorrow for them is a great solace, the nearest afflicted must be protected from any one or anything which is likely to overstrain nerves already at the threatening point, and none have the right to feel hurt if they are told they can neither be of use nor be received. at such a time, to some people companionship is a comfort, others shrink from dearest friends. one who is by choice or accident selected to come in contact with those in new affliction should, like a trained nurse, banish all consciousness of self; otherwise he or she will be or no service--and service is the only gift of value that can be offered. =first aid to the bereaved= first of all, the ones in sorrow should be urged if possible to sit in a sunny room and where there is an open fire. if they feel unequal to going to the table, a very little food should be taken to them on a tray. a cup of tea or coffee or bouillon, a little thin toast, a poached egg, milk if they like it hot, or milk toast. cold milk is bad for one who is already over-chilled. the cook may suggest something that appeals usually to their taste--but very little should be offered at a time, for although the stomach may be empty, the palate rejects the thought of food, and digestion is never in best order. it sounds paradoxical to say that those in sorrow should be protected from all contacts, and yet that they must be constantly asked about arrangements and given little time to remain utterly undisturbed. they must think of people they want sent for, and they must decide the details of the funeral; when they would like it held, and whether in church or at the house, whether they want special music or flowers ordered, and where the interment is to be. =on duty at door= a friend or a servant is always stationed in the hall to open the door, receive notes and cards, and to take messages. in a big house the butler in his day clothes should answer the bell, with the parlor-maid to assist him, until a footman can procure a black livery and take his or her place. a parlor-maid or waitress at the door should wear either a black or gray dress, with her plainest white apron, collar and cuffs. =member of family in charge= a close friend or male member of the family should be--if not at the door--as near the front hall as possible to see the countless people with whom details have to be arranged, to admit to a member of the family anyone they may want to see, and to give news to, or take messages from, others. as people come to the house to enquire and offer their services, he gives them commissions the occasion requires. the first friend who hurries to the house (in answer to the telephone message which announced the death) is asked to break the news to an invalid connection of the family, or he may be sent to the florist to order the bell hung, or to the station to meet a child arriving from school. =notice to papers= the sexton (or other funeral director) sends the notices to the daily papers announcing the death, and the time and place of the funeral. the form is generally selected by a member of the family from among those appearing in that day's newspapers. these notices are paid for by the sexton and put on his bill. with the exception of the telephone messages or telegrams to relatives and very intimate friends, no other notices are sent out. only those persons who are expected to go to the house at once have messages sent to them; all others are supposed to read the notice in the papers. when the notice reads "funeral private" and neither place nor time is given, very intimate friends are supposed to ask for these details at the house; others understand they are not expected. =hanging the bell= as a rule the funeral director hangs crepe streamers on the bell; white ones for a child, black and white for a young person, or black for an older person. this signifies to the passerby that it is a house of mourning so that the bell will not be rung unnecessarily nor long. if they prefer, the family sometimes orders a florist to hang a bunch of violets or other purple flowers on black ribbon streamers, for a grown person; or white violets, white carnations--any white flower without leaves--on the black ribbon for a young woman or man; or white flowers on white gauze or ribbon for a child. =checking expenses in advance= it is curious that long association with the sadness of death seems to have deprived an occasional funeral director of all sense of moderation. whether the temptation of "good business" gradually undermines his character--knowing as he does that bereaved families ask no questions--or whether his profession is merely devoid of taste, he will, if not checked, bring the most ornate and expensive casket in his establishment: he will perform every rite that his professional ingenuity for expenditure can devise; he will employ every attendant he has; he will order vehicles numerous enough for the cortège of a president; he will even, if thrown in contact with a bewildered chief-mourner, secure a pledge for the erection of an elaborate mausoleum. some one, therefore, who has the family's interest at heart and knows their taste and purse, should go personally to the establishment of the undertaker, and not only select the coffin, but go carefully into the specification of all other details, so that everything necessary may be arranged for, and unnecessary items omitted. this does not imply that a family that prefers a very elaborate funeral should not be allowed to have one; but the great majority of people have moderate, rather than unlimited means, and it is not unheard of that a small estate is seriously depleted by vulgarly lavish and entirely inappropriate funeral expenses. one would be a poor sort who for the sake of friends would not willingly endure a little troublesome inquiry, rather than witness a display of splurge and bad taste and realize at the same time that the friends who might have been protected will be deluged with bills which it cannot but embarrass them to pay. =honorary pallbearers= the member of the family who is in charge will ask either when they come to the house, or by telephone or telegraph if they are at a distance, six or eight men who are close friends of the deceased to be the pallbearers. when a man has been prominent in public life, he may have twelve or more from among his political or business associates as well as his lifelong social friends. near relatives are never chosen, as their place is with the women of the family. for a young woman, her own friends or those of her family are chosen. it is a service that may not under any circumstances except serious ill-health, be refused. the one in charge will tell the pallbearers where they are to meet. it used to be customary for them to go to the house on the morning of the funeral and drive to the church behind the hearse, but as everything tending to a conspicuous procession is being gradually done away with, it is often preferred to have them wait in the vestibule of the church. honorary pallbearers serve only at church funerals; they do not carry the coffin for the reason that, being unaccustomed to bearing such a burden, one of them might possibly stumble, or at least give an impression of uncertainty or awkwardness that might detract from the solemnity of the occasion. the sexton's assistants are trained for this service, so as to prevent in so far as is humanly possible a blundering occurrence. =mourning for funeral= among those who come to the house there is sure to be a woman friend of the family whose taste and method of expenditure is similar to theirs. she looks through the clothes they have, to see if there is not a black dress or suit that can be used, and makes a list of only the necessary articles which will have to be procured. all dressmaking establishments give precedence to mourning orders and will fill a commission within twenty-four hours. these first things are made invariably without bothering the wearer with fitting. alterations, if required, are made later. or the mourning departments of the big stores and specialty shops are always willing to send a selection on approval, so that a choice can be made by the family in the privacy of their own rooms. nearly always acquaintances who are themselves in mourning offer to lend crepe veils, toques and wraps, so that the garments which must be bought at first may be as few as possible. most women have a plain black suit, or dress, the trimming of which can quickly be replaced with crepe by a maid or a friend. most men are of standard size and can go to a clothier and buy a ready-made black suit. otherwise they must borrow, or wear what they have, as no tailor can make a suit in twenty-four hours. ="sitting up" no longer customary= unless the deceased was a prelate or personage whose lying-in-state is a public ceremony, or unless it is the especial wish of the relatives, the solemn vigil through long nights by the side of the coffin is no longer essential as a mark of veneration or love for the departed. nor is the soulless body dressed in elaborate trappings of farewell grandeur. everything to-day is done to avoid unnecessary evidence of the change that has taken place. in case of a very small funeral the person who has passed away is sometimes left lying in bed in night clothes, or on a sofa in a wrapper, with flowers, but no set pieces, about the room, so that an invalid or other sensitive bereft one may say farewell without ever seeing the all too definite finality of a coffin. in any event the last attentions are paid in accordance with the wish of those most nearly concerned. =extra work for servants= kindness of heart is latent in all of us, and servants, even if they have not been long with a family, rise to the emergency of such a time as that of a funeral, which always puts additional work upon them and often leaves them to manage under their own initiative. the house is always full of people, family and intimate friends occupy all available accommodation, but it is a rare household which does not give sympathy as generously below stairs as above; and he or she would be thought very heartless by their companions who did not willingly and helpfully assume a just share of the temporary tax on energy, time and consideration. =church funeral= the church funeral is the more trying, in that the family have to leave the seclusion of their house and face a congregation. on the other hand, many who find solemnity only in a church service with the added beauty of choir and organ, prefer to take their heartrending farewell in the house of god. =arranging and recording flowers= an hour before the time for the service, if the family is protestant, one or two woman friends go to the church to arrange the flowers which are placed about the chancel. unless they have had unusual practise in such arrangement they should, if possible, have the assistance of a florist, as effective grouping and fastening of heavy wreaths and sprays is apt to overtax the ingenuity of novices, no matter how perfect their usual taste may be. whoever takes charge of the flowers must be sure to collect carefully all the notes and cards. they should always take extra pencils in case the points break, and write on the outside of each envelope a description of the flowers that the card was sent with. "spray of easter lilies and palm branches tied with white ribbon." "wreath of laurel leaves and gardenias." "long sheaf of pink roses and white lilacs." these descriptions will afterwards help identify and recall the flowers when notes of thanks are sent. as the appointed time for the funeral draws near, the organ plays softly, the congregation gradually fills the church. the first pews on either side of the center aisle are left empty. =the processional= at the appointed time the funeral procession forms in the vestibule. if there is to be a choral service the minister and the choir enter the church from the rear, and precede the funeral cortège. directly after the choir and clergy come the pallbearers, two by two, then the coffin covered with flowers and then the family--the chief mourner comes first, leaning upon the arm of her closest male relative. usually each man is escort for a woman, but two women or two men may walk together according to the division of the family. if the deceased is one of four sons where there is no daughter, the mother and father walk immediately behind the body of their child, followed by the two elder sons and behind them the younger, with the nearest woman relative. if there is a grandmother, she walks with the eldest son and the younger two follow together. if it is a family of daughters who are following their father, the eldest daughter may walk with her mother, or the mother may walk with her brother, or a son-in-law. although the arrangement of the procession is thus fixed, those in affliction should be placed next to the one whose nearness may be of most comfort to them. a younger child who is calm and soothing would better be next to his mother than an older who is of more nervous temperament. at the funeral of a woman, her husband sometimes walks alone, but usually with his mother or his daughter. a very few intimate friends walk at the rear of the family, followed by the servants of the household. at the chancel the choir take their accustomed places, the minister stands at the foot of the chancel steps, the honorary pallbearers take their places in the front pews on the left, and the coffin is set upon a stand previously placed there for the purpose. the bearers of the coffin walk quietly around to inconspicuous stations on a side aisle. the family occupy the front pews on the right, the rest of the procession fill vacant places on either side. the service is then read. =the recessional= upon the conclusion of the service, the procession moves out in the same order as it came in excepting that the choir remain in their places and the honorary pallbearers go first. outside the church, the coffin is put into the hearse, the family getting into carriages or motors waiting immediately behind, and the flowers are put into a covered vehicle. (it is very vulgar to fill open landaus with displayed floral offerings and parade through the streets.) =few go to the burial= if the burial is in the churchyard or otherwise within walking distance, the congregation naturally follows the family to the graveside. otherwise, the general congregation no longer expects, nor wishes, to go to the interment which (excepting at a funeral of public importance) is witnessed only by the immediate family and the most intimate friends, who are asked if they "care to go." the long line of carriages that used to stand at the church ready to be filled with a long file of mere acquaintances is a barbarous thing of the past. =house funeral= many people prefer a house funeral--it is simpler, more private, and obviates the necessity for those in sorrow to face people. the nearest relatives may stay apart in an adjoining room or even upon the upper floor, where they can hear the service but remain in unseen seclusion. ladies keep their wraps on. gentlemen wear their overcoats or carry them on their arms and hold their hats in their hands. =music= to many people there is lack of solemnity in a service outside of a church and lacking the accompaniment of the organ. it is almost impossible to introduce orchestral music that does not sound either dangerously suggestive of the gaiety of entertainment or else thin and flat. a quartet or choral singing is beautiful and appropriate, if available, otherwise there is usually no music at a house funeral. =house arrangement= some authorities say that only the flowers sent by very close friends should be shown at a house funeral, and that it is ostentatious to make a display. but when people, or societies, have been kind enough to send flowers, it would certainly be wanting in appreciation, to say the least, to relegate their offerings to the back yard--or wherever it is that the cavilers would have them hid! in a small house where flowers would be overpowering, it is customary to insert in the death notice: "it is requested that no flowers be sent," or "kindly omit flowers." arrangement for the service is usually made in the drawing-room, and the coffin is placed in front of the mantel, or between the windows, but always at a distance from the door, usually on stands brought by the funeral director, who also brings enough camp chairs to fill the room without crowding. a friend, or a member of the family, collects the cards and arranges the flowers behind and at the side and against the stands of the coffin. if there is to be a blanket or pall of smilax or other leaves with or without flowers, fastened to a frame, or sewed on thin material and made into a covering, it is always ordered by the family. otherwise, the wreaths to be placed on the coffin are chosen from among those sent by the family. =the service= as friends arrive, they are shown to the room where the ceremony is to be held, but they take their own places. a room must be apportioned to the minister in which to put on his vestments. at the hour set for the funeral the immediate family, if they feel like being present, take their places in the front row of chairs. the women wear small hats or toques and long crepe veils over their faces, so that their countenances may be hidden. the minister takes his stand at the head of the coffin and reads the service. at its conclusion the coffin is carried out to the hearse, which, followed by a small number of carriages, proceeds to the cemetery. it is very rare nowadays for any but a small group of relatives and intimate men friends to go to the cemetery, and it is not thought unloving or slighting of the dead for no women at all to be at the graveside. if any women are to be present and the interment is to be in the ground, some one should order the grave lined with boughs and green branches--to lessen the impression of bare earth. =distant country funeral= in the country where relatives and friends arrive by train, carriages or motors must be provided to convey them to the house or church or cemetery. if the clergyman has no conveyance of his own, he must always be sent for, and if the funeral is in a house, a room must be set apart for him in which to change his clothes. it is unusual for a family to provide a "special car." sometimes the hour of the funeral is announced in the papers as taking place on the arrival of a certain train, but everyone who attends is expected to pay his own railway fare and make, if necessary, his own arrangements for lunch. only when the country place where the funeral is held is at a distance from town and a long drive from the railway station, a light repast of bouillon, rolls and tea and sandwiches may be spread on the dining-room table. otherwise refreshments are never offered--except to those of the family, of course, who are staying in the house. =house restored to order= while the funeral cortège is still at the cemetery, some one who is in charge at home must see that the mourning emblem is taken off the bell, that the windows are opened, the house aired from the excessive odor of flowers, and the blinds pulled up. any furniture that has been displaced should be put back where it belongs, and unless the day is too hot a fire should be lighted in the library or principal bedroom to make a little more cheerful the sad home-coming of the family. it is also well to prepare a little hot tea or broth, and it should be brought them upon their return without their being asked if they would care for it. those who are in great distress want no food, but if it is handed to them, they will mechanically take it, and something warm to start digestion and stimulate impaired circulation is what they most need. =mourning= a generation or two ago the regulations for mourning were definitely prescribed, definite periods according to the precise degree of relationship of the mourner. one's real feelings, whether of grief or comparative indifference, had nothing to do with the outward manifestation one was obliged, in decency, to show. the tendency to-day is toward sincerity. people do not put on black for aunts, uncles and cousins unless there is a deep tie of affection as well as of blood. many persons to-day do not believe in going into mourning at all. there are some who believe, as do the races of the east, that great love should be expressed in rejoicing in the re-birth of a beloved spirit instead of selfishly mourning their own earthly loss. but many who object to manifestations of grief, find themselves impelled to wear mourning when their sorrow comes and the number of those who do not put on black is still comparatively small. =protection of mourning= if you see acquaintances of yours in deepest mourning, it does not occur to you to go up to them and babble trivial topics or ask them to a dance or dinner. if you pass close to them, irresistible sympathy compels you merely to stop and press their hand and pass on. a widow, or mother, in the newness of her long veil, has her hard path made as little difficult as possible by everyone with whom she comes in contact, no matter on what errand she may be bent. a clerk in a store will try to wait on her as quickly and as attentively as possible. acquaintances avoid stopping her with long conversation that could not but torture and distress her. she meets small kindnesses at every turn, which save unnecessary jars to supersensitive nerves. once in a great while, a tactless person may have no better sense than to ask her abruptly for whom she is in mourning! such people would not hesitate to walk over the graves in a cemetery! and fortunately, such encounters are few. since many people, however, dislike long mourning veils and all crepe generally, it is absolutely correct to omit both if preferred, and to wear an untrimmed coat and hat of plainest black with or without a veil. =a word of economy= in the first days of stress, people sometimes give away every colored article they possess and not until later are they aware of the effort necessary, to say nothing of the expense, of getting an entire new wardrobe. therefore it is well to remember: dresses and suits can be dyed without ripping. any number of fabrics--all woolens, soft silks, canton crepe, georgette and chiffon, dye perfectly. buttonholes have sometimes to be re-worked, snaps or hooks and eyes changed to black, a bit of trimming taken off or covered with dull braid, silk or crepe, and the clothes look every bit as well as though newly ordered. straw hats can be painted with an easily applied stain sold in every drug and department store for the purpose. if you cannot trim hats yourself, a milliner can easily imitate, or, if necessary, simplify the general outline of the trimming as it was, and a seamstress can easily cover dyed trimmings on dresses with crepe or dull silk. also tan shoes--nearly all footwear made of leather--can be dyed black and made to look like new by any first class shoemaker. =mourning materials= lustreless silks, such as crepe de chine, georgette, chiffon, grosgrain, peau de soie, dull finish charmeuse and taffeta, and all plain woolen materials, are suitable for deepest mourning. uncut velvet is as deep mourning as crepe, but cut velvet is not mourning at all! nor is satin or lace. the only lace permissible is a plain or hemstitched net known as "footing." fancy weaves in stockings are not mourning, nor is bright jet or silver. a very perplexing decree is that clothes entirely of white are deepest mourning but the addition of a black belt or hat or gloves produces second mourning. patent leather and satin shoes are not mourning. people in second mourning wear all combinations of black and white as well as clothes of gray and mauve. many of the laws for materials seem arbitrary, and people interpret them with greater freedom than they used to, but never under any circumstances can one who is not entirely in colors wear satin embroidered in silver or trimmed with jet and lace! with the exception of wearing a small string of pearls and a single ring, especially if it is an engagement ring, jewelry with deepest mourning is never in good taste. =when a veil is not worn= nor should a woman ever wear a crepe veil to the theater or restaurant, or any public place of amusement. on the other hand, people left long to themselves and their own thoughts grow easily morbid, and the opera or concert or an interesting play may exert a beneficial relaxation. gay restaurants with thumping strident musical accompaniment or entertainments of the cabaret variety, need scarcely be commented upon. but to go to a matinée with a close friend or relative is becoming more and more usual--and the picture theaters where one may sit in the obscurity and be diverted by the story on the silver screen which, requiring no mental effort, often diverts a sad mind for an hour or so, is an undeniable blessing. an observer would have to be much at a loss for material who could find anything to criticise in seeing a family together under such circumstances. one generally leaves off a long veil, however, for such an occasion and drives bareheaded, if it be evening, or substitutes a short black face veil over one's hat on entering and leaving a building in the daytime. =mourning for country wear= except for church, crepe veils and clothes heavily trimmed with crepe are not appropriate in the country--ever! mourning clothes for the summer consist of plain black serge or tweed, silk or cotton material, all black with white organdy collar and cuffs, and a veil-less hat with a brim. or one may dress entirely in dull materials of white. =a widow's mourning= a widow used never to wear any but woolen materials, made as plain as possible, with deep-hemmed turn-back cuffs and collar of white organdy. on the street she wore a small crepe bonnet with a little cap-border of white crepe or organdy and a long veil of crepe or nun's veiling to the bottom edge of her skirt, over her face as well as down her back. at the end of three months the front veil was put back from over her face, but the long veil was worn two years at least, and frequently for life. these details are identical with those prescribed to-day excepting that she may wear lustreless silks as well as wool, the duration of mourning may be shorter, and she need never wear her veil over her face except at the funeral unless she chooses. a widow of mature years who follows old-fashioned conventions wears deep mourning with crepe veil two years, black the third year and second mourning the fourth. but shorter periods of mourning are becoming more and more the custom and many consider three or even two years conventional. =the very young widow= the young widow should wear deep crepe for a year and then lighter mourning for six months and second mourning for six months longer. there is nothing more utterly captivating than a sweet young face under a widow's veil, and it is not to be wondered at that her own loneliness and need of sympathy, combined with all that is appealing to sympathy in a man, results in the healing of her heart. she should, however, never remain in mourning for her first husband after she has decided she can be consoled by a second. there is no reason why a woman (or a man) should not find such consolation, but she should keep the intruding attraction away from her thoughts until the year of respect is up, after which she is free to put on colors and make happier plans. =mourning worn by a mother= a mother who has lost a grown child wears the same mourning as that prescribed for a widow excepting the white cap ruche. some mothers wear mourning for their children always, others do not believe in being long in black for a spirit that was young, and, for babies or very young children, wear colorless clothes of white or gray or mauve. =a daughter or sister= a daughter or sister wears a long veil over her face at the funeral. the length of the veil may be to her waist or to the hem of her skirt, and it is worn for from three months to a year, according to her age and feelings. an older woman wears deep black for her parents, sisters and brothers for a year, and then lightens her mourning during the second year. a young girl, if she is out in society or in college, may wear a long veil for her parents or her betrothed, if she wants to, or she wears a thin net veil edged with crepe and the corners falling a short way down her back--or none at all. very young girls of from fourteen to eighteen wear black for three months and then six months of black and white. they never wear veils of any sort, nor are their clothes trimmed in crepe. children from eight to fourteen wear black and white and gray for six months for a parent, brother, sister or grandparent. young children are rarely put into mourning, though their clothes are often selected to avoid vivid color. they usually wear white with no black except a hair ribbon for the girls and a necktie for the boys. very little children in black are too pitiful. =extreme fashion inappropriate= fancy clothes in mourning are always offenses against good taste, because as the word implies, a person is in _mourning_. to have the impression of "fashion" dominant is contrary to the purpose of somber dress; it is a costume for the spirit, a covering for the visible body of one whose soul seeks the background. nothing can be in worse taste than crepe which is gathered and ruched and puffed and pleated and made into waterfalls, and imitation ostrich feathers as a garnishing for a hat. the more absolutely plain, the more appropriate and dignified is the mourning dress. a "long veil" is a shade pulled down--a protection--it should never be a flaunting arrangement to arrest the amazed attention of the passerby. the necessity for dignity can not be overemphasized. =bad taste in mourning= mourning observances are all matters of fixed form, and any deviation from precise convention is interpreted by the world at large as signifying want of proper feeling. how often has one heard said of a young woman who was perhaps merely ignorant of the effect of her inappropriate clothes or unconventional behavior: "look at her! and her dear father scarcely cold in his grave!" or "little she seems to have cared for her mother--and such a lovely one she had, too." such remarks are as thoughtless as are the actions of the daughter, but they point to an undeniable condition. better far not wear mourning at all, saying you do not believe in it, than allow your unseemly conduct to indicate indifference to the memory of a really beloved parent; better that a young widow should go out in scarlet and yellow on the day after her husband's funeral than wear weeds which attract attention on account of their flaunting bad taste and flippancy. one may not, one must not, one _can not_ wear the very last cry of exaggerated fashion in crepe, nor may one be boisterous or flippant or sloppy in manner, without giving the impression to all beholders that one's spirit is posturing, tripping, or dancing on the grave of sacred memory. this may seem exaggerated, but if you examine the expressions, you will find that they are essentially true. draw the picture for yourself: a slim figure, if you like, held in the posture of the caterpillar slouch, a long length of stocking so thin as to give the effect of shaded skin above high-heeled slippers with sparkling buckles of bright jet, a short skirt, a scrappy, thin, low-necked, short-sleeved blouse through which white underclothing shows various edgings of lace and ribbons, and on top of this, a painted face under a long crepe veil! yet the wearer of this costume may in nothing but appearance resemble the unmentionable class of women she suggests; as a matter of fact she is very likely a perfectly decent young person and really sad at heart, and her clothes and "make up" not different from countless others who pass unnoticed because their colored clothing suggests no mockery of solemnity. =mourning wear for men= the necessity of business and affairs which has made withdrawal into seclusion impossible, has also made it customary for the majority of men to go into mourning by the simple expedient of putting a black band on their hat or on the left sleeve of their usual clothes and wearing only white instead of colored linen. a man never under any circumstances wears crepe. the band on his hat is of very fine cloth and varies in width according to the degree of mourning from two and a half inches to within half an inch of the top of a high hat. on other hats the width is fixed at about two and a half or three inches. the sleeve band, from three and a half to four and a half inches in width, is of dull broadcloth on overcoats or winter clothing, and of serge on summer clothes. the sleeve band of mourning is sensible for many reasons, the first being that of economy. men's clothes do not come successfully from the encounter with dye vats, nor lend themselves to "alterations," and an entire new wardrobe is an unwarranted burden to most. except for the one black suit bought for the funeral and kept for sunday church, or other special occasion, only wealthy men or widowers go to the very considerable expense of getting a new wardrobe. widowers--especially if they are elderly--always go into black (which includes very dark gray mixtures) with a deep black band on the hat, and of course, black ties and socks and shoes and gloves. =conventions of mourning for men= although the etiquette is less exacting, the standards of social observance are much the same for a man as for a woman. a widower should not be seen at any general entertainment, such as a dance, or in a box at the opera, for a year; a son for six months; a brother for three--at least! the length of time a father stays in mourning for a child is more a matter of his own inclination. =mourning livery= coachmen and chauffeurs wear black liveries in town. in the country they wear gray or even their ordinary whipcord with a black band on the left sleeve. the house footman is always put into a black livery with dull buttons and a black and white striped waistcoat. maids are not put into mourning with the exception of a lady's maid or nurse who, through many years of service, has "become one of the family," and who personally desires to wear mourning as though for a relative of her own. =acknowledgment of sympathy= in the case of a very prominent person where messages of condolence, many of them impersonal, mount into the thousands, the sending of engraved cards to strangers is proper, such as: mr. w. ide bonds wishes to gratefully acknowledge your kind expression of sympathy or senator and mrs. michigan wish to express their appreciation of [hw: miss millicent gildings] sympathy in their recent bereavement under no circumstances should such cards be sent to intimate friends, or to those who have sent flowers or written personal letters. when some one with real sympathy in his heart has taken the trouble to select and send flowers, or has gone to the house and offered what service he might, or has in a spirit of genuine regard, written a personal letter, the receipt of words composed by a stationer and dispatched by a professional secretary is exactly as though his outstretched hand had been pushed aside. a family in mourning is in retirement from all social activities. there is no excuse on the score of their "having no time." also no one expects a long letter, nor does any one look for an early reply. a personal word on a visiting card is all any one asks for. the envelope may be addressed by some one else. it takes but a moment to write "thank you," or "thank you for all sympathy," or "thank you for your kind offers and sympathy." or, on a sheet of letter paper: "thank you, dear mrs. smith, for your beautiful flowers and your kind sympathy." or: "your flowers were so beautiful! thank you for them and for your loving message." or: "thank you for your sweet letter. i know you meant it and i appreciate it." many, many such notes can be written in a day. if the list is overlong, or the one who received the flowers and messages is in reality so prostrated that she (or he) is unable to perform the task of writing, then some member of her immediate family can write for her: "mother (or father) is too ill to write and asks me to thank you for your beautiful flowers and kind message." most people find a sad comfort as well as pain, in the reading and replying to letters and cards, but they should not sit at it too long; it is apt to increase rather than assuage their grief. therefore, no one expects more than a word--but that word should be _seemingly personal_. =obligations of presence at funerals= upon reading the death notice of a mere acquaintance you may leave your card at the house, if you feel so inclined, or you may merely send your card. upon the death of an intimate acquaintance or friend you should go at once to the house, write, "with sympathy" on your card and leave it at the door. or you should write a letter to the family; in either case, you send flowers addressed to the nearest relative. on the card accompanying the flowers, you write, "with sympathy," "with deepest sympathy," or "with heartfelt sympathy," or "with love and sympathy." if there is a notice in the papers "requesting no flowers be sent," you send them only if you are a very intimate friend. or if you prefer, send a few flowers with a note, immediately after the funeral, to the member of the family who is particularly your friend. if the notice says "funeral private" you do not go unless you have received a message from the family that you are expected, or unless you are such an intimate friend that you know you are expected without being asked. where a general notice is published in the paper, it is proper and fitting that you should show sympathy by going to the funeral, even though you had little more than a visiting acquaintance with the family. you should _not_ leave cards nor go to a funeral of a person with whom you have not in any way been associated or to whose house you have never been asked. but it is heartless and delinquent if you do not go to the funeral of one with whom you were associated in business or other interests, or to whose house you were often invited, or where you are a friend of the immediate members of the family. you should wear black clothes if you have them, or if not, the darkest, the least conspicuous you possess. enter the church as quietly as possible, and as there are no ushers at a funeral, seat yourself where you approximately belong. only a very intimate friend should take a position far up on the center aisle. if you are merely an acquaintance you should sit inconspicuously in the rear somewhere, unless the funeral is very small and the church big, in which case you may sit on the end seat of the center aisle toward the back. chapter xxv the country house and its hospitality the difference between the great house with twenty to fifty guest rooms, all numbered like the rooms in a hotel, and the house of ordinary good size with from four to six guest rooms, or the farmhouse or small cottage which has but one "best" spare chamber, with perhaps a "man's room" on the ground floor, is much the same as the difference between the elaborate wedding and the simplest--one merely of degree and not of kind. to be sure, in the great house, week-end guests often include those who are little more than acquaintances of the host and hostess, whereas the visitor occupying the only "spare" room is practically always an intimate friend. excepting, therefore, that people who have few visitors never ask any one on their general list, and that those who fill an enormous house time and time again necessarily do, the etiquette, manners, guest room appointments and the people who occupy them, are precisely the same. popular opinion to the contrary, a man's social position is by no means proportionate to the size of his house, and even though he lives in a bungalow, he may have every bit as high a position in the world of fashion as his rich neighbor in his palace--often much better! we all of us know a mr. newgold who would give many of the treasures in his marble palace for a single invitation to mrs. oldname's comparatively little house, and half of all he possesses for the latter's knowledge, appearance, manner, instincts and position--none of which he himself is likely ever to acquire, though his children may! but in our description of great or medium or small houses, we are considering those only whose owners belong equally to best society and where, though luxuries vary from the greatest to the least, house appointments are in essentials alike. this is a rather noteworthy fact: all people of good position talk alike, behave alike and live alike. ill-mannered servants, incorrect liveries or service, sloppily dished food, carelessness in any of the details that to well-bred people constitute the decencies of living, are no more tolerated in the smallest cottage than in the palace. but since the biggest houses are those which naturally attract most attention, suppose we begin our detailed description with them. =house party of many guests= perhaps there are ten or perhaps there are forty guests, but if there were only two or three, and the house a little instead of a big one, the details would be precisely the same. a week-end means from friday afternoon or from saturday lunch to monday morning. the usual time chosen for a house party is over a holiday, particularly where the holiday falls on a friday or monday, so that the men can take a saturday off, and stay from friday to tuesday, or thursday to monday. on whichever day the party begins, everyone arrives in the neighborhood of five o'clock, or a day later at lunch time. many come in their own cars, the others are met at the station--sometimes by the host or a son, or, if it is to be a young party, by a daughter. the hostess herself rarely, if ever, goes to the station, not because of indifference or discourtesy but because other guests coming by motor might find the house empty. it is very rude for a hostess to be out when her guests arrive. even some one who comes so often as to be entirely at home, is apt to feel dispirited upon being shown into an empty house. sometimes a guest's arrival unwelcomed can not be avoided; if, for instance, a man invited for tennis week or a football or baseball game, arrives before the game is over but too late to join the others at the sport. when younger people come to visit the daughters, it is not necessary that their mother stay at home, since the daughters take their mother's place. nor is it necessary that she receive the men friends of her son, unless the latter for some unavoidable reason, is absent. no hostess must ever fail to send a car to the station or boat landing for every one who is expected. if she has not conveyances enough of her own, she must order public ones and have the fares charged to herself. =greeting of the host= the host always goes out into the front hall and shakes hands with every one who arrives. he asks the guests if they want to be shown to their rooms, and, if not, sees that the gentlemen who come without valets give their keys to the butler or footman, and that the ladies without maids of their own give theirs to the maid who is on duty for the purpose. should any of them feel dusty or otherwise "untidy" they naturally ask if they may be shown to their rooms so that they can make themselves presentable. they should not, however, linger longer than necessary, as their hostess may become uneasy at their delay. ladies do not--in fashionable houses--make their first appearance without a hat. gentlemen, needless to say, leave theirs in the hall when they come in. travel in the present day, however, whether in parlor car or closed limousines, or even in open cars on macadam roads, obviates the necessity for an immediate removing of "travel stains," so that instead of seeking their rooms, the newcomers usually go directly into the library or out on the veranda or wherever the hostess is to be found behind the inevitable tea tray. =greeting of the hostess= as soon as her guests appear in the doorway, the hostess at once rises, goes forward smiling, shakes hands and tells them how glad she is that they have safely come, or how glad she is to see them, and leads the way to the tea-table. this is one of the occasions when everyone is always introduced. good manners also demand that the places nearest the hostess be vacated by those occupying them, and that the newly arrived receive attention from the hostess, who sees that they are supplied with tea, sandwiches, cakes and whatever the tea-table affords. after tea, people either sit around and talk, or, more likely nowadays, they play bridge. about an hour before dinner the hostess asks how long every one needs to dress, and tells them the time. if any need a shorter time than she must allow for herself, she makes sure that they know the location of their rooms, and goes to dress. =a room for every guest= it is almost unnecessary to say that in no well-appointed house is a guest, except under three circumstances, put in a room with any one else. the three exceptions are: . a man and wife, if the hostess is sure beyond a doubt that they occupy similar quarters when at home. . two young girls who are friends and have volunteered, because the house is crowded, to room together in a room with two beds. . on an occasion such as a wedding, a ball, or an intercollegiate athletic event, young people don't mind for one night (that is spent for the greater part "up") how many are doubled; and house room is limited merely to cot space, sofas, and even the billiard table. but she would be a very clumsy hostess, who, for a week-end, filled her house like a sardine box to the discomfort and resentment of every one. in the well-appointed house, every guest room has a bath adjoining for itself alone, or shared with a connecting room and used only by a man and wife, two women or two men. a bathroom should never (if avoidable) be shared by a woman and a man. a suitable accommodation for a man and wife is a double room with bath and a single room next. =the guest room= the perfect guest room is not necessarily a vast chamber decorated in an historically correct period. its perfection is the result of nothing more difficult to attain than painstaking attention to detail, and its possession is within the reach of every woman who has the means to invite people to her house in the first place. the ideal guest room is never found except in the house of the ideal hostess, and it is by no means "idle talk" to suggest that every hostess be obliged to spend twenty-four hours every now and then in each room that is set apart for visitors. if she does not do this actually, she should do so in imagination. she should occasionally go into the guest bathroom and draw the water in every fixture, to see there is no stoppage and that the hot water faucets are not seemingly jokes of the plumber. if a man is to occupy the bathroom, she must see that the hook for a razor strop is not missing, and that there is a mirror by which he can see to shave both at night and by daylight. even though she can see to powder her nose, it would be safer to make her husband bathe and shave both a morning and an evening in each bathroom and then listen carefully to what he says about it! even though she has a perfect housemaid, it is not unwise occasionally to make sure herself that every detail has been attended to; that in every bathroom there are plenty of bath towels, face towels, a freshly laundered wash rag, bath mat, a new cake of unscented bath soap in the bathtub soap rack, and a new cake of scented soap on the washstand. it is not expected, but it is often very nice to find violet water, bath salts, listerine, talcum powder, almond or other hand or sunburn lotion, in decorated bottles on the washstand shelf; but to cover the dressing-table in the bedroom with brushes and an array of toilet articles is more of a nuisance than a comfort. a good clothes brush and whiskbroom are usually very acceptable, as strangely enough, guests almost invariably forget them. a comforting adjunct to a bathroom that is given to a woman is a hot water bottle with a woolen cover, hanging on the back of the door. even if the water does not run sufficiently hot, a guest seldom hesitates to ring for that, whereas no one ever likes to ask for a hot water bag--no matter how much she might long for it. a small bottle of pyro is also convenient for one who brings a curling lamp. [illustration: "the ideal guest room is never found except in the house of the ideal hostess; and it is by no means idle talk to suggest that every hostess be obliged to spend twenty-four hours every now and then in each room set apart for visitors." [page .]] in the bedroom the hostess should make sure (by sleeping in it at least once) that the bed is comfortable, that the sheets are long enough to tuck in, that there are enough pillows for one who sleeps with head high. there must also be plenty of covers. besides the blankets there should be a wool-filled or an eiderdown quilt, in coloring to go with the room. there should be a night light at the head of the bed. not just a decorative glow-worm effect, but a light that is really good to lie in bed and read by. and always there should be books; chosen more to divert than to engross. the sort of selection appropriate for a guest room might best comprise two or three books of the moment, a light novel, a book of essays, another of short stories, and a few of the latest magazines. spare-room books ought to be especially chosen for the expected guest. even though one can not choose accurately for the taste of another, one can at least guess whether the visitor is likely to prefer transcendental philosophy or detective stories, and supply either accordingly. there should be a candle and a box of matches--even though there is electric light it has been known to go out! and some people like to burn a candle all night. there must also be matches and ash receivers on the desk and a scrap-basket beside it. in hot weather, every guest should have a palm leaf fan, and in august, even though there are screens, a fly killer. in big houses with a swimming pool, bath-robes are supplied and often bathing suits. otherwise dressing-gowns are not part of any guest room equipment. a comfortable sofa is very important (if the room is big enough) with a sofa pillow or two, and with a lightweight quilt or afghan across the end of it. the hostess should do her own hair in each room to see if the dressing-table is placed where there is a good light over it, both by electric and by daylight. a very simple expedient in a room where massive furniture and low windows make the daylight dressing-table difficult, is the european custom of putting an ordinary small table directly in the window and standing a good sized mirror on it. nothing makes a more perfect arrangement for a woman. and the pincushion! it is more than necessary to see that the pins are usable and not rust to the head. there should be black ones and white ones, long and short; also safety pins in several sizes. three or four threaded needles of white thread, black, gray and tan silk are an addition that has proved many times welcome. she must also examine the writing desk to be sure that the ink is not a cracked patch of black dust at the bottom of the well, and the pens solid rust and the writing paper textures and sizes at odds with the envelopes. there should be a fresh blotter and a few stamps. also thoughtful hostesses put a card in some convenient place, giving the post office schedule and saying where the mail bag can be found. and a calendar, and a clock that _goes_! is there anything more typical of the average spare room than the clock that is at a standstill? there must be plenty of clothes hangers in the closets. for women a few hat stands, and for men trouser hangers and the coat hangers that have a bar across the shoulder piece. it is unnecessary to add that every bureau drawer should be looked into to see that nothing belonging to the family is filling the space which should belong to the guest, and that the white paper lining the bottom is new. curtains and sofa pillows must, of course, be freshly laundered; the furniture, floor, walls and ceiling unmarred and in perfect order. when bells are being installed in new houses they should be on cords and hung at the side of the bed. light switches should be placed at the side of the door going into the room and bathroom. it is scarcely practical to change the wiring in old houses; but it can at least be seen that the bells work. people who like strong perfumes often mistakenly think they are giving pleasure in filling all the bedroom drawers with pads heavily scented. instead of feeling pleasure, some people are made almost sick! but all people (hay-fever patients excepted) love flowers, and vases of them beautify rooms as nothing else can. even a shabby little room, if dustlessly clean and filled with flowers, loses all effect of shabbiness and is "inviting" instead. in a hunting country, there should be a bootjack and boothooks in the closet. guest rooms should have shutters and dark shades for those who like to keep the morning sun out. the rooms should also, if possible, be away from the kitchen end of the house and the nursery. a shortcoming in many houses is the lack of a newspaper, and the thoughtful hostess who has the morning paper sent up with each breakfast tray, or has one put at each place on the breakfast table, deserves a halo. at night a glass and a thermos pitcher of water should be placed by the bed. in a few very specially appointed houses, a small glass-covered tray of food is also put on the bed table, fruit or milk and sandwiches, or whatever is marked on the guest card. =the guest card= a clever device was invented by mrs. gilding whose palatially appointed house is run with the most painstaking attention to every one's comfort. on the dressing-table in each spare room at golden hall is a card pad with a pencil attached to it. but if the guest card is used, a specimen is given below. needless to say the cards are used only in huge houses that, because of their size, are necessarily run more like a clubhouse than as a "home." in every house, the questions below are asked by the hostess, though the guests may not readily perceive the fact. at bedtime she always asks: "would you like to come down to breakfast, or will you have it in your room?" if the guest says, in her room, she is then asked what she would like to eat. she is also asked whether she cares for milk or fruit or other light refreshment at bedtime, and if there is a special book she would like to take up to her room. the guest card mentioned above is as follows: =please fill this out before going down to dinner:= _what time do you want to be awakened? ....................... or, will you ring? .......................................... will you breakfast up-stairs? ................................ or down? ...................................................._ =underscore your order:= _coffee, tea, chocolate, milk, oatmeal, hominy, shredded wheat, eggs, how cooked? rolls, muffins, toast, orange, pear, grapes, melon._ =at bedtime will you take= _hot or cold milk, cocoa, orangeade, sandwiches, meat, lettuce, jam, cake, crackers, oranges, apples, pears, grapes._ besides this list, there is a catalogue of the library with a card, clipped to the cover, saying: "following books for room no. x." then four or six blank lines and a place for the guest's signature. =at the dinner hour= every one goes down to dinner as promptly as possible and the procedure is exactly that of all dinners. if it is a big party, the gentlemen offer their arms to the ladies the host or hostess has designated. at the end of the evening, it is the custom that the hostess suggest going up-stairs, rather than the guests who ordinarily depart after dinner. but etiquette is not very strictly followed in this, and a reasonable time after dinner, if any one is especially tired he or she quite frankly says: "i wonder if you would mind very much if i went to bed?" the hostess always answers: "why, no, certainly not! i hope you will find everything in your room! if not, will you ring?" it is not customary for the hostess to go up-stairs with a guest, so long as others remain in her drawing-room. if there is only one lady, or a young girl, the hostess accompanies her to her room, and asks if everything has been thought of for her comfort. =how guests are asked and received= many older ladies adhere to former practise and always write personal notes of invitation. all others write or telegraph to people at a distance, and send telephone messages to those nearby. when a house is to be filled with friends of daughters or sons of the house, the young people in the habit of coming to the house, or young men, whether making a first visit or not, do not need any invitation further than one given them verbally by a daughter, or even a son. but a married couple, or a young girl invited for the first time, should have the verbal invitation of daughter or son seconded by a note or at least a telephone message sent by the mother herself. every one is always asked for a specified time. even a near relative comes definitely for a week, or a month, or whatever period is selected. this is because other plans have to be made by the owners of the house, such as inviting another group of guests, or preparing to go away themselves. =who are asked on house parties= excepting when strangers bring influential letters of introduction, or when a relative or very intimate friend recently married is invited with her new husband or his bride, only very large and general house parties include any one who is not an intimate friend. at least seventy per cent of american house parties are young people, either single or not long married, and, in any event, all those asked to any one party--unless the hostess is a failure (or a genius)--belong to the same social group. perhaps a more broad-minded attitude prevails among young people in other parts of the country, but wilfully narrow-minded miss young new york is very chary of accepting an invitation until she finds out who among her particular friends are also invited. if mrs. stranger asks her for a week-end, no matter how much she may like mrs. stranger personally, she at once telephones two or three of her own group. if some of them are going, she "accepts with pleasure," but if not, the chances are she "regrets." if, on the other hand, she is asked by the gildings, she accepts at once. not merely because golden hall is the ultimate in luxury, but because mrs. gilding has a gift for entertaining, including her selection of people, amounting to genius. on the other hand, miss young new york would accept with equal alacrity the invitation of the jack littlehouses, where there is no luxury at all. here in fact, a guest is quite as likely as not to be pressed into service as auxiliary nurse, gardener or chauffeur. but the personality of the host and hostess is such that there is scarcely a day in the week when the motors of the most popular of the younger set are not parked at the littlehouse door. =people we love to stay with= we enjoy staying with certain people usually for one of two reasons. first, because they have wonderful, luxurious houses, filled with amusing people; and visiting them is a period crammed with continuous and delightful experience, even though such a visit has little that suggests any personal intercourse or friendship with one's hostess. the other reason we love to visit a certain house is, on the contrary, entirely personal to the host or hostess. we love the house because we love its owner. nowhere do we feel so much at home, and though it may have none of the imposing magnificence of the great house, it is often far more charming. five flunkeys can not do more towards a guest's comfort than to take his hat and stick and to show him the way to the drawing-room. a very smart young new yorker who is also something of a wag, says that when going to a very magnificent house, he always tries to wear sufficient articles so that he shall have one to bestow upon each footman. some one saw him, upon entering a palace that is a counterpart of the worldlys,' quite solemnly hand his hat to the first footman, his stick to the second, his coat to the third, his muffler to the fourth, his gloves to the fifth, and his name to the sixth, as he entered the drawing-room. needless to say he did this as a matter of pure amusement to himself. of course six men servants, or more, do add to the impressiveness of a house that is a palace and are a fitting part of the picture. and yet a neat maid servant at the door can divest a guest of his hat and coat, and lead the way to the sitting-room, with equal facility. having several times mentioned golden hall, the palatial country house of the gildings, suppose we join the guests and see what the last word in luxury and lavish hospitality is. golden hall is not an imaginary place, except in name. it exists within a hundred miles of new york. the house is a palace, the grounds are a park. there is not only a long wing of magnificent guest rooms in the house, occupied by young girls or important older people, but there is also a guest annex, a separate building designed and run like the most luxurious country club. the second floor has nothing but bedrooms, with bath for each. the third floor has bachelor rooms, and rooms for visiting valets. visiting maids are put in a separate third floor wing. on the ground floor there is a small breakfast room; a large living-room filled with books, magazines, a billiard and pool table; beyond the living-room is a fully equipped gymnasium; and beyond that a huge, white marble, glass-walled natatorium. the swimming pool is fifty feet by one hundred; on three sides is just a narrow shelf-like walkway, but the fourth is wide and is furnished as a room with lounging chairs upholstered in white oilcloth. opening out of this are perfectly equipped turkish and russian baths in charge of the best swedish masseur and masseuse procurable. in the same building are two squash courts, a racquet court, a court tennis court, and a bowling alley. but the feature of the guest building is a glass-roofed and enclosed riding ring--not big enough for games of polo, but big enough for practise in winter,--built along one entire side of it. the stables are full of polo ponies and hunters, the garage full of cars, the boathouse has every sort of boat--sailboats, naphtha launches, a motor boat and even a shell. every amusement is open-heartedly offered, in fact, especially devised for the guests. at the main house there is a ballroom with a stage at one end. an orchestra plays every night. new moving pictures are shown and vaudeville talent is imported from new york. this is the extreme of luxury in entertaining. as mrs. toplofty said at the end of a bewilderingly lavish party: "how are any of us ever going to amuse any one after _this_? i feel like doing my guest rooms up in moth balls." no one, however, has discovered that invitations to mrs. toplofty's are any less welcome. besides, excitement-loving youth and exercise-devotees were never favored guests at the hudson manor anyway. =the small house of perfection= it matters not in the slightest whether the guest room's carpet is aubusson or rag, whether the furniture is antique, or modern, so long as it is pleasing of its kind. on the other hand, because a house is little is no reason that it can not be as perfect in every detail--perhaps more so--as the palace of the multiest millionaire! the attributes of the perfect house can not be better represented than by brook meadows farm, the all-the-year home of the oldnames. nor can anything better illustrate its perfection than an incident that actually took place there. a great friend of the oldnames, but not a man who went at all into society, or considered whether people had position or not, was invited with his new wife--a woman from another state and of much wealth and discernment--to stay over a week-end at brook meadows. never having met the oldnames, she asked something about their house and life in order to decide what type of clothes to pack. "oh, it's just a little farmhouse. oldname wears a dinner coat, of course; his wife wears--i don't know what--but i have never seen her dressed up a bit!" "evidently plain people," thought his wife. and aloud: "i wonder what evening dress i have that is high enough. i can put in the black lace day dress; perhaps i had better put in my cerise satin----" "the cerise?" asked her husband, "is that the red you had on the other night? it is much too handsome, much! i tell you, mrs. oldname never wears a dress that you could notice. she always looks like a lady, but she isn't a dressy sort of person at all." so the bride packed her plainest (that is her cheapest) clothes, but at the last, she put in the "cerise." when she and her husband arrived at the railroad station, _that_ at least was primitive enough, and mr. oldname in much worn tweeds might have come from a castle or a cabin; country clothes are no evidence. but her practised eye noticed the perfect cut of the chauffeur's coat and that the car, though of an inexpensive make, was one of the prettiest on the market, and beautifully appointed. "at least they have good taste in motors and accessories," thought she, and was glad she had brought her best evening dress. they drove up to a low white shingled house, at the end of an old-fashioned brick walk bordered with flowers. the visitor noticed that the flowers were all of one color, all in perfect bloom. she knew no inexperienced gardener produced that apparently simple approach to a door that has been chosen as frontispiece in more than one book on colonial architecture. the door was opened by a maid in a silver gray taffeta dress, with organdie collar, cuffs and apron, white stockings and silver buckles on black slippers, and the guest saw a quaint hall and vista of rooms that at first sight might easily be thought "simple" by an inexpert appraiser; but mrs. oldname, who came forward to greet her guests, was the antithesis of everything the bride's husband had led her to believe. to describe mrs. oldname as simple is about as apt as to call a pearl "simple" because it doesn't dazzle; nor was there an article in the apparently simple living-room that would be refused were it offered to a museum. the tea-table was chinese chippendale and set with old spode on a lacquered tray over a mosaic-embroidered linen tea-cloth. the soda biscuits and cakes were light as froth, the tea an especial blend imported by a prominent connoisseur and given every christmas to his friends. there were three other guests besides the bride and groom: a united states senator, and a diplomat and his wife who were on their way from a post in europe to one in south america. instead of "bridge" there was conversation on international topics until it was time to dress for dinner. when the bride went to her room (which adjoined that of her husband) she found her bath drawn, her clothes laid out, and the dressing-table lights lighted. that night the bride wore her cerise dress to one of the smartest dinners she ever went down to, and when they went up-stairs and she at last saw her husband alone, she took him to task. "why in the name of goodness didn't you tell me the truth about these people?" "oh," said he abashed, "i told you it was a little house--it was you who insisted on bringing that red dress. i told you it was too handsome!" "handsome!" she cried in tears, "i don't own anything half good enough to compare with the least article in this house. that 'simple' little woman as you call her would, i think, almost make a queen seem provincial! and as for her clothes, they are priceless--just as everything is in this little gem of a house. why, the window curtains are as fine as the best clothes in my trousseau." the two houses contrasted above are two extremes, but each a luxury. the oldnames' expenditure, though in no way comparable with the worldlys' or the gildings,' is far beyond any purse that can be called moderate. the really moderate purse inevitably precludes a woman from playing an important rôle as hostess, for not even the greatest magnetism and charm can make up to spoiled guests for lack of essential comfort. the only exceptions are a bungalow at the seashore or a camp in the woods, where a confirmed luxury-lover is desperately uncomfortable for the first twenty-four hours, but invariably gets used to the lack of comfort almost as soon as he gets dependent upon it; and plunging into a lake for bath, or washing in a little tin basin, sleeping on pine boughs without any sheets at all, eating tinned foods and flapjacks on tin plates with tin utensils, he seems to lack nothing when the air is like champagne and the company first choice. =guest room service= if a visitor brings no maid of her own, the personal maid of the hostess (if she has one--otherwise the housemaid) always unpacks the bags or trunks, lays toilet articles out on the dressing-table and in the bathroom, puts folded things in the drawers and hangs dresses on hangers in the closet. if when she unpacks she sees that something of importance has been forgotten, she tells her mistress, or, in the case of a servant who has been long employed, she knows what selection to make herself, and supplies the guest without asking with such articles as comb and brush or clothes brush, or bathing suit and bath-robe. the valet of the host performs the same service for men. in small establishments where there is no lady's maid or valet, the housemaid is always taught to unpack guests' belongings and to press and hook up ladies' dresses, and gentlemen's clothes are sent to a tailor to be pressed after each wearing. in big houses, breakfast trays for women guests are usually carried to the bedroom floor by the butler (some butlers delegate this service to a footman) and are handed to the lady's maid who takes the tray into the room. in small houses they are carried up by the waitress. trays for men visitors are rare, but when ordered are carried up and into the room by the valet, or butler. if there are no men servants the waitress has to carry up the tray. when a guest rings for breakfast, the housemaid or the valet goes into the room, opens the blinds, and in cold weather lights the fire, if there is an open one in the room. asking whether a hot, cool or cold bath is preferred, he goes into the bathroom, spreads a bath mat on the floor, a big bath towel over a chair, with the help of a thermometer draws the bath, and sometimes lays out the visitor's clothes. as few people care for more than one bath a day and many people prefer their bath before dinner instead of before breakfast, this office is often performed at dinner dressing time instead of in the morning. =tips= the "tip-roll" in a big house seems to us rather appalling, but compared with the amounts given in a big english house, ours are mere pittances. pleasant to think that _something_ is less expensive in our country than in europe! fortunately in this country, when you dine in a friend's house you do not "tip" the butler, nor do you tip a footman or parlor-maid who takes your card to the mistress of the house, nor when you leave a country house do you have to give more than five dollars to any one whatsoever. a lady for a week-end stay gives two or three dollars to the lady's maid, if she went without her own, and one or two dollars to every one who waited on her. intimate friends in a small house send tips to all the servants--perhaps only a dollar apiece, but no one is forgotten. in a very big house this is never done and only those are tipped who have served you. if you had your maid with you, you always give her a tip (about two dollars) to give the cook (often the second one) who prepared her meals and one dollar for the kitchen maid who set her table. a gentleman scarcely ever "remembers" any of the women servants (to their chagrin) except a waitress, and tips only the butler and the valet, and sometimes the chauffeur. the least he can offer any of the men-servants is two dollars and the most ever is five. no woman gets as much as that, for such short service. in a few houses the tipping system is abolished, and in every guest room, in a conspicuous place on the dressing-table or over the bath tub where you are sure to read it, is a sign, saying: "please do not offer tips to my servants. their contract is with this special understanding, and proper arrangements have been made to meet it; you will not only create 'a situation,' but cause the immediate dismissal of any one who may be persuaded by you to break this rule of the house." the notice is signed by the host. the "arrangement" referred to is one whereby every guest means a bonus added to their wages of so much per person per day for all employees. this system is much preferred by servants for two reasons. first, self-respecting ones dislike the demeaning effect of a tip (an occasional few won't take them). secondly, they can absolutely count that so many visitors will bring them precisely such an amount. [illustration: "in small houses breakfast trays for women guests are carried up by the waitress." [page ]] =breakfast downstairs or up= breakfast customs are as varied in this country as the topography of the land! communities of people who have lived or traveled much abroad, have nearly all adopted the continental breakfast habit of a tray in their room, especially on sunday mornings. in other communities it is the custom to go down to the dining-room for a heavy american (or english) meal. in communities where the latter is the custom and where people are used to assembling at a set hour, it is simple enough to provide a breakfast typical of the section of the country; corn bread and kidney stew and hominy in the south; doughnuts and codfish balls "way down east"; kippered herring, liver and bacon and griddle cakes elsewhere. but downstairs breakfast as a continuous performance is, from a housekeeper's point of view, a trial to say the least. however, in big houses, where men refuse to eat in their rooms and equally refuse to get up until they feel like it, a dining-room breakfast is managed as follows: =continuous breakfast downstairs= the table is set with a place for all who said they were "coming down." at one end is a coffee urn kept hot over a spirit lamp, milk is kept hot under a "tea cosy" or in a double pitcher, made like a double boiler. on the sideboard or on the table are two or three "hot water" dishes (with or without spirit lamps underneath). in one is a cereal, in the other "hash" or "creamed beef," sausage, or codfish cakes, or whatever the housekeeper thinks of, that can stand for hours and still be edible! fruit is on the table and bread and butter and marmalade, and the cook is supposed to make fresh tea and eggs and toast for each guest as he appears. =preparing breakfast tray= the advantage of having one's guests choose breakfast up-stairs, is that unless there is a separate breakfast room, a long delayed breakfast prevents the dining-room from being put in order or the lunch table set. trays, on the other hand, stand "all set" in the pantry and interfere much less with the dining-room work. the trays are either of the plain white pantry variety or regular breakfast ones with folding legs. on each is put a tray cloth. it may be plain linen hemstitched or scalloped, or it may be much embroidered and have mosaic or filet lace. every bedroom has a set of breakfast china to match it. but it is far better to send a complete set of blue china to a rose-colored room than a rose set that has pieces missing. nothing looks worse than odd crockery. it is like unmatched paper and envelopes, or odd shoes, or a woman's skirt and waist that do not meet in the back. there is nothing unusual in a tray set, every china and department store carries them, but only in "open" stock patterns can one buy extra dishes or replace broken ones; a fact it is well to remember. there is a tall coffee pot, hot milk pitcher, a cream pitcher and sugar bowl, a cup and saucer, two plates, an egg cup and a covered dish. a cereal is usually put in the covered dish, toast in a napkin on a plate, or eggs and bacon in place of cereal. this with fruit is the most elaborate "tray" breakfast ever provided. most people who breakfast "in bed" take only coffee or tea, an egg, toast and possibly fruit. =the courteous host= of those elaborate ceremonials between host and guest familiar to all readers of the bible and all travelers in the east, only a few faint traces remain in our country and generation. it is still unforgivable to eat a man's bread and remain his enemy. it is unforgivable to criticize your host, or in his presence to criticize his friends. it is unforgivable to be rude to any one under your own roof or under the roof of a friend. if you must quarrel with your enemy, seek public or neutral ground, since quarrels and hospitality must never be mingled. the spaniard says to his guest: "all i have is yours." it is supposed to be merely a pretty speech--but in a measure it is true of every host's attitude toward his house guest. if you take some one under your roof, he becomes part of, and sharer in, your life and possessions. your horse, your fireside, your armchair, your servants, your time, your customs, all are his; your food is his food, your roof his shelter. you give him the best "spare" room, you set before him the best refreshments you can offer, and your "best" china and glass. his bed is made up with your best "company" linen and blankets. you receive your guest with a smile, no matter how inconvenient or troublesome or straining to your resources his visit may be, and on no account do you let him suspect any of this. =keeping one's guests occupied= in popular houses where visitors like to go again and again, there is always a happy combination of some attention on the part of the host and hostess, and the perfect freedom of the guests to occupy their time as they choose. the host and the men staying in the house arrange among themselves to rest or play games or fish or ride or shoot clay pigeons or swim, etc. the hostess, unless at the seashore where people go bathing in the morning, generally leaves her guests to their own devices until lunch time, though they are always offered whatever diversions the place or neighborhood afford. they are told there is bathing, fishing, golf; and if they want to do any of these things, it is arranged for them. but unless something special, such as driving to a picnic or clambake, has been planned, or there is a tennis tournament or golf match of importance, the hostess makes her first appearance just before luncheon. this is the same as any informal family meal. if there are thirty guests it makes no difference. sometimes there are place cards--especially if other people have been invited in--sometimes people find places for themselves. after luncheon something is usually arranged; perhaps those who play golf go out for their game, and others who do not play go to the country club at the hour the players are supposed to be coming in, so that they can all have tea together. those who like motoring perhaps go for a drive, or to a neighbor's house for bridge, or neighbors come in for tea. there is always bridge, sometimes there is dancing. in very big houses musicians are often brought in after dinner, and dancing and bridge alternate till bedtime. a houseful of young people very easily look after their own amusement. as said before, a big house is run very much like a country club, and guests are supposed to look after themselves. making an especial effort to entertain a guest who is to stay for a week or longer has gone out of custom in the fashionable world, except for an important personage. a visit from the president of the united states for instance, would necessitate the most punctiliously formal etiquette, no matter how close a friend of the family he may always have been. for such a visitor a hostess would either arrange a series of entertainments or none, according to her visitor's inclination. =a guest can look after his own comfort= the most trying thing to people of very set habits is an unusual breakfast hour. when you have the unfortunate habit of waking with the dawn, and the household you are visiting has the custom of sleeping on sunday morning, the long wait for your coffee can quite actually upset your whole day. on the other hand, to be aroused at seven on the only day when you do not have to hurry to business, in order to yawn through an early breakfast, and then sit around and kill time, is quite as trying. the guest with the "early" habit can in a measure prevent discomfort. he can carry in a small case (locked if necessary) a very small solidified alcohol outfit and either a small package of tea or powdered coffee, sugar, powdered milk, and a few crackers. he can then start his day all by himself in the barnyard hours without disturbing any one, and in comfort to himself. few people care enough to "fuss," but if they do, this equipment of an habitual visitor with incurably early waking hours is given as a suggestion. or perhaps the entire guest situation may be put in one sentence. if you are an inflexible person, very set in your ways, don't visit! at least don't visit without carefully looking the situation over from every angle to be sure that the habits of the house you are going to are in accord with your own. a solitary guest is naturally much more dependent on his host (or her hostess), but on the other hand, he or she is practically always a very intimate friend who merely adapts himself or herself like a chameleon to the customs and hours and diversions of the household. =dont's for hostess= when a guest asks to be called half an hour before breakfast, don't have him called an hour and a half before because it takes you that long to dress, nor allow him a scant ten minutes because the shorter time is seemingly sufficient. too often the summons on the door wakes him out of sound sleep; he tumbles exhausted out of bed, into clothes, and down stairs, to wait perhaps an hour for breakfast. if a guest prefers to sit on the veranda and read, don't interrupt him every half page to ask if he really does not want to do something else. if, on the other hand, a guest wants to exercise, don't do everything in your power to obstruct his starting off by saying that it will surely rain, or that it is too hot, or that you think it is senseless to spend days that should be a rest to him in utterly exhausting himself. don't, when you know that a young man cares little for feminine society, fine-tooth-comb the neighborhood for the dullest or silliest young woman to be found. don't, on the other hand, when you have an especially attractive young woman staying with you, ask a stolid middle-aged couple and an octogenarian professor for dinner, because the charm and beauty of the former is sure to appeal to the latter. don't, because you personally happen to like a certain young girl who is utterly old-fashioned in outlook and type from ultra modern others who are staying with you, try to "bring them together." never try to make any two people like each other. if they do, they do; if they don't, they don't, and that is all there is to it; but it is of vital importance to your own success as hostess to find out which is the case and collect or separate them accordingly. =the casual hostess= the most casual hostess in the world is the fashionable leader in newport, she who should by the rules of good society be the most punctilious, since no place in america, or europe, is more conspicuously representative of luxury and fashion. nowhere are there more "guests" or half so many hostesses, and yet hospitality as it is understood everywhere else, is practically unknown. no one ever goes to stay in a newport house excepting "on his own" as it were. it is not an exaggerated story, but quite true, that in many houses of ultra fashion a guest on arriving is told at which meals he is expected to appear, that is at dinners or luncheons given by his hostess. at all others he is free to go out or stay in by himself. no effort is assumed for his amusement, or responsibility for his well-being. it is small wonder that only those who have plenty of friends care to go there--or in fact, are ever invited! those who like to go to visit the most perfectly appointed, but utterly impersonal house, find no other visiting to compare with its unhampering delightfulness. the hostess simply says on his (or her) arrival: "oh, howdo freddie (or constance)! they've put you in the chinese room, i think. ring for tea when you want it. struthers telephoned he'd be over around five. mrs. toplofty asked you to dinner to-night and i accepted for you--hope that was all right. if not, you'll have to telephone and get out of it yourself. i want you to dinner to-morrow night and for lunch on sunday. sorry to leave you, but i'm late for bridge now. good-by." and she is off. the newport hostess is, of course, an extreme type that is seldom met away from that one small watering place in rhode island. =the energetic hostess= the energetic hostess is the antithesis of the one above, and far more universally known. she is one who fusses and plans continually, who thinks her guests are not having a good time unless she rushes them, cook's tourist fashion, from this engagement to that, and crowds with activity and diversion--never mind _what_ so long as it is something to see or do--every moment of their stay. she walks them through the garden to show them all the nooks and vistas. she dilates upon the flowers that bloomed here last month and are going to bloom next. she insists upon their climbing over rocks to a summerhouse to see the view; she insists on taking them in another direction to see an old mill; and, again, every one is trouped to the cupola of the house to see another view. she insists on every one's playing croquet before lunch, to which she gathers in a curiously mixed collection of neighbors. immediately after lunch every one is driven to a country club to see some duffer golf--for some reason there is never "time" in all the prepared pleasures for any of her guests to play golf themselves. after twenty minutes at the golf club, they are all taken to a church fair. the guests are all introduced to the ladies at the booth and those who were foolish enough to bring their purses with them from now on carry around an odd assortment of fancy work. there is another entertainment that her guests must not miss! a flower pageant of the darlingest children fourteen miles away! everyone is dashed to that. on some one's front lawn, daisies and lilies and roses trip and skip--it is all sweetly pretty but the sun is hot and the guests have been on the go for a great many hours. soon, however, their hostess leaves. "home at last!" think they. not at all. they are going somewhere for tea and french recitations. but why go on? the portrait is fairly complete, though this account covers only a few hours and there is still all the evening and to-morrow to be filled in just as liberally. =the anxious hostess= the anxious hostess does not insist on your ceaseless activity, but she is no less persistent in filling your time. she is always asking you what you would like to do next. if you say you are quite content as you are, she nevertheless continues to shower suggestions. shall she play the phonograph to you? would you like her to telephone to a friend who sings too wonderfully? would you like to look at a portfolio of pictures? if you are a moment silent, she is sure you are bored, and wonders what she can do to divert you! =the perfect hostess= the ideal hostess must have so many perfections of sense and character that were she described in full, no one seemingly but a combination of seer and angel could ever hope to qualify. she must first of all consider the inclinations of her guests, she must not only make them as comfortable as the arrangements and limits of her establishment permit, but she must subordinate her own inclinations utterly. at the same time, she must not fuss and flutter and get agitated and seemingly make efforts in their behalf. nothing makes a guest more uncomfortable than to feel his host or hostess is being put to a great deal of bother or effort on his account. a perfect hostess like a perfect housekeeper has seemingly nothing whatever to do with household arrangements which apparently run in oiled grooves and of their own accord. certain rules are easy to observe once they are brought to attention. a hostess should never speak of annoyances of any kind--no matter what happens! unless she is actually unable to stand up, she should not mention physical ills any more than mental ones. she has invited people to her house, and as long as they are under her roof, hospitality demands that their sojourn shall be made as pleasant as lies in her power. if the cook leaves, then a picnic must be made of the situation as though a picnic were the most delightful thing that could happen. should a guest be taken ill, she must assure him that he is not giving the slightest trouble; at the same time nothing that can be done for his comfort must be overlooked. should she herself or some one in her family become suddenly ill, she should make as light of it as possible to her guests, even though she withdraw from them. in that event she must ask a relative or intimate friend to come in and take her place. nor should the deputy hostess dwell to the guests on the illness, or whatever it is that has deprived them of their hostess. =the guest no one invites again= the guest no one invites a second time is the one who runs a car to its detriment, and a horse to a lather; who leaves a borrowed tennis racquet out in the rain; who "dog ears" the books, leaves a cigarette on the edge of a table and burns a trench in its edge, who uses towels for boot rags, who stands a wet glass on polished wood, who tracks muddy shoes into the house, and leaves his room looking as though it had been through a cyclone. nor are men the only offenders. young women have been known to commit every one of these offenses and the additional one of bringing a pet dog that was not house trained. besides these actually destructive shortcomings, there are evidences of bad upbringing in many modern youths whose lack of consideration is scarcely less annoying. those who are late for every meal; cheeky others who invite friends of their own to meals without the manners or the decency to ask their hostess' permission; who help themselves to a car and go off and don't come back for meals at all; and who write no letters afterwards, nor even take the trouble to go up and "speak" to a former hostess when they see her again. on the other hand, a young person who is considerate is a delight immeasurable--such a delight as only a hostess of much experience can perhaps appreciate. a young girl who tells where she is going, first asking if it is all right, and who finds her hostess as soon as she is in the house at night to report that she is back, is one who very surely will be asked again and often. a young man is, of course, much freer, but a similar deference to the plans of his hostess, and to the hours and customs of the house, will result in repeated invitations for him also. the lack of these things is not only bad form but want of common civility and decency, and reflects not only on the girls and boys themselves but on their parents who failed to bring them up properly. =the considerate guest= courtesy demands that you, when you are a guest, shall show neither annoyance nor disappointment--no matter what happens. before you can hope to become even a passable guest, let alone a perfect one, you must learn as it were not to notice if hot soup is poured down your back. if you neither understand nor care for dogs or children, and both insist on climbing all over you, you must seemingly like it; just as you must be amiable and polite to your fellow guests, even though they be of all the people on earth the most detestable to you. you must with the very best dissimulation at your command, appear to find the food delicious though they offer you all of the viands that are especially distasteful to your palate, or antagonistic to your digestion. you must disguise your hatred of red ants and scrambled food, if everyone else is bent on a picnic. you must pretend that six is a perfect dinner hour though you never dine before eight, or, on the contrary, you must wait until eight-thirty or nine with stoical fortitude, though your dinner hour is six and by seven your chest seems securely pinned to your spine. if you go for a drive, and it pours, and there is no top to the carriage or car, and you are soaked to the skin and chilled to the marrow so that your teeth chatter, your lips must smile and you must appear to enjoy the refreshing coolness. if you go to stay in a small house in the country, and they give you a bed full of lumps, in a room of mosquitoes and flies, in a chamber over that of a crying baby, under the eaves with a temperature of over a hundred, you _can_ the next morning walk to the village, and send yourself a telegram and leave! but though you feel starved, exhausted, wilted, and are mosquito bitten until you resemble a well-developed case of chickenpox or measles, by not so much as a facial muscle must you let the family know that your comfort lacked anything that your happiest imagination could picture--nor must you confide in any one afterwards (having broken bread in the house) how desperately wretched you were. if you know anyone who is always in demand, not only for dinners, but for trips on private cars and yachts, and long visits in country houses, you may be very sure of one thing: the popular person is first of all unselfish or else extremely gifted; very often both. the perfect guest not only tries to wear becoming clothes but tries to put on an equally becoming mental attitude. no one is ever asked out very much who is in the habit of telling people all the misfortunes and ailments she has experienced or witnessed, though the perfect guest listens with apparent sympathy to every one else's. another attribute of the perfect guest is never to keep people waiting. she is always ready for anything--or nothing. if a plan is made to picnic, she likes picnics above everything and proves her liking by enthusiastically making the sandwiches or the salad dressing or whatever she thinks she makes best. if, on the other hand, no one seems to want to do anything, the perfect guest has always a book she is absorbed in, or a piece of sewing she is engrossed with, or else beyond everything she would love to sit in an easy chair and do nothing. she never for one moment thinks of herself, but of the other people she is thrown with. she is a person of sympathy always, and instantaneous discernment. she is good tempered no matter what happens, and makes the most of everything as it comes. at games she is a good loser, and a quiet winner. she has a pleasant word, an amusing story, and agreeable comment for most occasions, but she is neither gushing nor fulsome. she has merely acquired a habit, born of many years of arduous practise, of turning everything that looks like a dark cloud as quickly as possible for the glimmer of a silver lining. she is as sympathetic to children as to older people; she cuts out wonderful paper dolls and soldier hats, always leisurely and easily as though it cost neither time nor effort. she knows a hundred stories or games, every baby and every dog goes to her on sight, not because she has any especial talent, except that one she has cultivated, the talent of interest in everyone and everything except herself. few people know that there is such a talent or that it can be cultivated. she has more than mere beauty; she has infinite charm, and she is so well born that she is charming to everyone. her manner to a duke who happens to be staying in the house is not a bit more courteous than her manner to the kitchen-maid whom she chances to meet in the kitchen gardens whither she has gone with the children to see the new kittens; as though new kittens were the apex of all delectability! she always calls the servants by name; always says "how do you do" when she arrives, "good morning" while there, and "good-by" when she leaves. and do they presume because of her "familiarity" when she remembers to ask after the parlor-maid's mother and the butler's baby? they wait on her as they wait on no one else who comes to the house--neither the senator nor the governor, nor his grace of overthere! this ideal guest is an equally ideal hostess; the principle of both is the same. a ready smile, a quick sympathy, a happy outlook, consideration for others, tenderness toward everything that is young or helpless, and forgetfulness of self, which is not far from the ideal of womankind. =the guest on a private car or yacht= the sole difference between being a guest at a country house and a guest on a private car or a yacht, is that you put to a very severe test tour adaptability as a traveler. you live in very close quarters with your host and hostess and fellow guests, and must therefore be particularly on your guard against being selfish or out of humor. if you are on shore and don't feel well, you can stay home; but off on a cruise, if you are ill you have to make the best of it, and a sea-sick person's "best" is very bad indeed! therefore let it be hoped you are a good sailor. if not, think very, very carefully before you embark! chapter xxvi the house party in camp "roughing it" in the fashionable world (on the atlantic coast) is rather suggestive of the dairymaid playing of marie antoinette; the "rough" part being mostly "picturesque effect" with little taste of actual discomfort. often, of course, the "roughing it" is real, especially west of the mississippi (and sometimes in the east too); so real that it has no place in a book of etiquette at all. in the following picture of a fashionable "camping party" it should perhaps be added, that not only the worldlys but most of the women really _think_ they are "roughing it." at the same time there is nothing that a genuine dependent upon luxury resents more than to be told he is dependent. it is he who has but newly learned the comforts of living who protests his inability to endure discomfort. the very same people therefore who went a short time before to great estates, women who arrived with their maids and luggage containing personal equipment of amazing perfection and unlimited quantity (to say nothing of jewels worth a king's ransom), and men who usually travel with their own man-servants and every variety of raiment and paraphernalia, on being invited to "rough it" with the kindharts at mountain summit camp, are the very ones who most promptly and enthusiastically telegraph their delighted acceptance. at a certain party a few years ago, the only person who declined was a young woman of so little "position" that she was quite offended that mrs. kindhart should suppose her able to endure discomfort such as her invitation implied. this year the worldlys, the normans, the lovejoys, the "bobo" gildings, the littlehouses, constance style, jim smartlington and his bride, clubwin doe and young struthers make up the party. no one declined, not even the worldlys, though there is a fly in the amber of their perfect satisfaction. mrs. kindhart wrote "not to bring a maid." mrs. worldly is very much disturbed, because she cannot do her hair herself. mr. worldly is even more perturbed at the thought of going without his valet. he has never in the twenty years since he left college been twenty-four hours away from ernest. he knows perfectly well that ernest is not expected. but he means to take him--he will say nothing about it; he can surely find a place for ernest to stay somewhere. the other men all look upon a holiday away from formality (which includes valeting) as a relief, like the opening of a window in a stuffy room, and none of the women except mrs. worldly would take her maid if she could. =the clothes they take= the men all rummage in attics and trunk-rooms for those disreputable looking articles of wearing apparel dear to all sportsmen; oil soaked boots, water soaked and sun bleached woolen, corduroy, leather or canvas garments and hats, each looking too shabby from their wives' (or valet's) point of view to be offered to a tramp. every evening is spent in cleaning guns, rummaging for unprepossessing treasures of shooting and fishing equipment. the women also give thought to their wardrobes--consisting chiefly in a process of elimination. nothing perishable, nothing requiring a maid's help to get into, or to take care of. golf clothes are first choice, and any other old country clothes, skirts and sweaters, and lots of plain shirt waists to go under the sweaters. an old polo coat and a mackintosh is chosen by each. and for evenings something "comfortable" and "easy to put on" in the way of a house gown or ordinary summer "day dress." one or two decide to take tea gowns in dark color and plainest variety. all the women who sew or knit take something to "work on" in unoccupied moments, such as the hours of sitting silent in a canoe while husbands fish. finally the day arrives. every one meets at the railroad station. they are all as smart looking as can be, there is no sign of "rough" clothes anywhere, though nothing in the least like a jewel case or parasol is to be seen. at the end of somewhere between eight and eighteen hours, they arrive at a shed which sits at the edge of the single track and is labelled dustville junction, and hurrying down the narrow platform is their host. except that his face is clean shaven and his manners perfect, he might be taken for a tramp. three far from smart looking teams--two buckboards and an express wagon--are standing near by. kindhart welcomes everyone with enthusiasm--except the now emerging ernest. for once kindhart is nonplussed and he says to worldly: "this isn't newport, you know--of course we can give him a bed somewhere, but this is really no place for ernest and there's nothing for him to do!" worldly, for the moment at a loss, explains lamely: "i thought he might be useful--if you could find some corner for him to-night, then we can see--that's all right, isn't it?" kindhart as host can't say anything further except to agree. everyone is bundled into the buckboards (except ernest who goes on top of the luggage in the express wagon), and a "corduroy" drive of six or eight miles begins. =what the camp is like= summit camp is a collection of wooden shacks like a group of packing cases dumped in a clearing among the pine trees at the edge of a mountain lake. those who have never been there before feel some misgivings, those who have been there before remember with surprise that they _had_ liked the place! the men alone are filled with enthusiasm. the only person who is thoroughly apprehensive of the immediate future is ernest. in front of the largest of the shacks, mrs. kindhart, surrounded by dogs and children, waves and hurries forward, beaming. her enthusiasm is contagious, the children look blooming. that the "hardship" is not hurting them, is evident! and when the guests have seen the inside of the camps most of them are actually as pleased as they look. the biggest "shack" is a living-room, the one nearest is the dining camp, four or five smaller ones are sleeping camps for guests and another is the kindharts' own. the "living" camp is nothing but a single room about thirty feet wide and forty feet long, with an open raftered roof for ceiling. it has windows on four sides and a big porch built on the southeast corner. there is an enormous open fireplace, and a floor good enough to dance on. the woodwork is of rough lumber and has a single coat of leaf-green paint. the shelves between the uprights are filled with books. all the new novels and magazines are spread out on a long table. the room is furnished with navajo blankets, wicker furniture, steamer chairs, and hammocks are hung across two of the corners. two long divan sofas on either side of the fireplace are the only upholstered pieces of furniture in the whole camp, except the mattresses on the beds. the guest camps are separate shacks, each one set back on a platform, leaving a porch in front. inside they vary in size; most have two, some have four rooms, but each is merely one pointed-roofed space. the front part has a fireplace and is furnished as a sitting-room, the rear half is partitioned into two or more cubicles, like box-stalls, with partitions about eight feet high and having regular doors. in each of the single rooms, there is a bed, bureau, washstand, chair, and two shelves about six or seven feet high, with a calico curtain nailed to the top one and hanging to the floor, making a hat shelf and clothes closet. the few "double" rooms are twice the size and have all furniture in duplicate. there is also a matting or a rag rug on the floor, and that is all! each cottage has a bathroom but the hot water supply seems complicated. a sign says your guide will bring it to you when needed. mrs. worldly, feeling vaguely uncomfortable and hungry, is firmly determined to go home on the next morning train. before she has had much time to reflect, mrs. kindhart reports that lunch is nearly ready. guides come with canisters of hot water, and everyone goes to dress. town clothes disappear, and woods clothes emerge. this by no means makes a dowdy picture. good sport clothes never look so well or becoming as when long use has given them an "accustomed set" characteristic of their wearer. the men put on their oldest country clothes too. not their fishing "treasures" to sit at table with ladies! the treasured articles go on in the early dawn, and the guides are the only humans (except themselves) supposed worthy to behold them! presently a gong is sounded. the kindhart children run to the guest houses to call out that "the gong means dinner is ready!" and "dinner" means lunch. =dining-room details= in a short while the very group of people who only ten days before were being shown to their places in the worldlys' own tapestry-hung marble dining-room at great estates by a dozen footmen in satin knee breeches, file into the "dining camp" and take their places at a long pine table, painted turkey red, on ordinary wooden kitchen chairs, also red! the floral decoration is of laurel leaves in vases made of preserve jars covered with birch bark. glass and china is of the cheapest. but there are a long centerpiece of hemstitched crash and crash doilies, and there are "real" napkins, and at each plate a birch bark napkin ring with a number on it. mrs. worldly looks at her napkin ring as though it were an insect. one or two of the others who have not been there before, look mildly surprised. mrs. kindhart smiles, "i'm sorry, but i told you it was 'roughing it.' any one who prefers innumerable paper napkins to using a washed one twice, is welcome. but one napkin a day apiece is camp rule!" mrs. worldly tries to look amiable, all the rest succeed. the food is limited in variety but delicious. there are fresh trout from the lake and venison steak; both well cooked in every way that can be devised appear at every meal. all other supplies come in hampers from the city. the head cook is the kindharts' own, and so is the butler, with one of the chauffeurs (when home) to help him wait on table. they wear "liveries," evolved by mrs. kindhart, of gray flannel trousers, green flannel blazers, very light gray flannel shirts, black ties, and moccasins! the table service, since there are only two to wait on twenty including the children, is necessarily somewhat "farmer style"; ice, tea, rolls, butter, marmalade, cake, fruit, are all on the table, so that people may help themselves. =the amusements offered= after luncheon kindhart points out a dozen guides who are waiting at the boat-house to take anyone who wants to be paddled or to sail or to go out into the woods. there is a small swimming pool which can be warmed artificially. those who like it cold swim in the lake. all the men disappear in groups or singly with a guide. the women go with their husbands, or two together, with a guide. should any not want to go out, she can take to one of the hammocks, or a divan in the living-room, and a book. at first sight, this hospitality seems inadequate, but its discomfort is one of outward appearance only. the food is abundant and delicious, whether cooked in the house or by the guides in the woods. the beds are comfortable; there are plenty of warm and good quality, though not white, blankets. sheets are flannel or cotton as preferred. pillow cases are linen, towels of the "bath" variety because washing can be done by "natives" near by, but ironing is difficult. let no one, however, think that this is a "simple" (by that meaning either easy or inexpensive) form of entertainment! imagine the budget! a dozen guides, teams and drivers, natives to wash and clean and to help the cook; food for two or three dozen people sent hundreds of miles by express! it is true that the buildings are of the most primitive, and the furnishings, too. the bureau drawers do stick, and there is only "curtained" closet room, and mirrors are few and diminutive, and orders for hot water have to be given ahead of time, but there is no discomfort, except bathing in the cold! the huge fire, lighted early every morning by one of the guides in each guest house, keeps the main part fairly warm but the temperature of one of the bathrooms on a cold morning is scarcely welcoming. =camp manners= people do not "dress" for dinner, that is, not in evening clothes. after coming in from walking or shooting or fishing, if it is warm they swim in the pool or have their guides bring them hot water for a bath. women change into house gowns of some sort. men put on flannel trousers, soft shirts, and flannel or serge sack coats. in the evening, if it is a beautiful night, every one sits on steamer chairs wrapt in rugs around the big fire built out doors in front of a sort of penthouse or windbreak. or if it is stormy, they sit in front of a fire, almost as big, in the living-room. sometimes younger ones pop corn or roast chestnuts, or perhaps make taffy. perhaps some one tells a story, or some one plays and everyone sings. perhaps one who has "parlor tricks" amuses the others--but as a rule those who have been all day in the open are tired and drowsy and want nothing but to stretch out for a while in front of the big fire and then turn in. the etiquette of this sort of a party is so apparently lacking that its inclusion perhaps seems out of place. but it is meant merely as a "picture" of a phase of fashionable life that is not much exploited, and to show that well-bred people never deteriorate in manner. their behavior is precisely the same whether at great estates or in camp. a gentleman may be in his shirt sleeves actually, but he never gets into shirt sleeves mentally--he has no inclination to. to be sure, on the particular party described above, mrs. worldly wore a squirrel fur cap in the evening as well as the daytime; she said it was because it was so warm and comfortable. it was really because she could not do her hair! perhaps some one asks about ernest? at the end of two days of aloof and distasteful idleness, ernest became quite a human being; invaluable as baiter of worms for the children's fish-hooks, as extra butler, and did not scorn even temporary experiments as kitchen-maid. in fact, he proved the half-hearted recommendation that he "might be useful" so thoroughly that the first person of all to be especially invited for next year and future years, was--exactly--ernest. chapter xxvii notes and shorter letters in writing notes or letters, as in all other forms of social observance, the highest achievement is in giving the appearance of simplicity, naturalness and force. those who use long periods of flowered prolixity and pretentious phrases--who write in complicated form with meaningless flourishes, do not make an impression of elegance and erudition upon their readers, but flaunt instead unmistakable evidence of vainglory and ignorance. the letter you write, whether you realize it or not, is always a mirror which reflects your appearance, taste and character. a "sloppy" letter with the writing all pouring into one corner of the page, badly worded, badly spelled, and with unmatched paper and envelope--even possibly a blot--proclaims the sort of person who would have unkempt hair, unclean linen and broken shoe laces; just as a neat, precise, evenly written note portrays a person of like characteristics. therefore, while it can not be said with literal accuracy that one may read the future of a person by study of his handwriting, it is true that if a young man wishes to choose a wife in whose daily life he is sure always to find the unfinished task, the untidy mind and the syncopated housekeeping, he may do it quite simply by selecting her from her letters. =how to improve a letter's appearance= some people are fortunate in being able easily to make graceful letters, to space their words evenly, and to put them on a page so that the picture is pleasing; others are discouraged at the outset because their fingers are clumsy, and their efforts crude; but no matter how badly formed each individual letter may be, if the writing is consistent throughout, the page as a whole looks fairly well. you can _make_ yourself write neatly and legibly. you can (with the help of a dictionary if necessary) spell correctly; you can be sure that you understand the meaning of every word you use. if it is hard for you to write in a straight line, use the lined guide that comes with nearly all stationery; if impossible to keep an even margin, draw a perpendicular line at the left of the guide so that you can start each new line of writing on it. you can also make a guide to slip under the envelope. far better to use a guide than to send envelopes and pages of writing that slide up hill and down, in uncontrolled disorder. [illustration: facsimiles, reduced in size, of letter and envelope guides] =choice of writing paper= suitability should be considered in choosing note paper, as well as in choosing a piece of furniture for a house. for a handwriting which is habitually large, a larger sized paper should be chosen than for writing which is small. the shape of paper should also depend somewhat upon the spacing of the lines which is typical of the writer, and whether a wide or narrow margin is used. low, spread-out writing looks better on a square sheet of paper; tall, pointed writing looks better on paper that is high and narrow. selection of paper whether rough or smooth is entirely a matter of personal choice--so that the quality be good, and the shape and color conservative. paper should never be ruled, or highly scented, or odd in shape, or have elaborate or striking ornamentation. some people use smaller paper for notes, or correspondence cards, cut to the size of the envelopes. others use the same size for all correspondence and leave a wider margin in writing notes. the flap of the envelope should be plain and the point not unduly long. if the flap is square instead of being pointed, it may be allowed greater length without being eccentric. colored linings to envelopes are at present in fashion. thin white paper, with monogram or address stamped in gray to match gray tissue lining of the envelope is, for instance, in very best taste. young girls may be allowed quite gay envelope linings, but the device on the paper must be minute, in proportion to the gaiety of the color. [illustrations: good taste good taste good taste bad taste bad taste] writing paper for a man should always be strictly conservative. plain white or gray or granite paper, large in size and stamped in the simplest manner. the size should be - / x - / or x or - / x - / or thereabouts. a paper suitable for the use of all the members of a family has the address stamped in black or dark color, in plain letters at the top of the first page. more often than not the telephone number is put in very small letters under that of the address, a great convenience in the present day of telephoning. for example: park avenue telephone plaza =devices for stamping= as there is no such thing as heraldry in america, the use of a coat of arms is as much a foreign custom as the speaking of a foreign tongue; but in certain communities where old families have used their crests continuously since the days when they brought their device--and their right to it--from europe, the use of it is suitable and proper. the sight of this or that crest on a carriage or automobile in new york or boston announces to all those who have lived their lives in either city that the vehicle belongs to a member of this or that family. but for some one without an inherited right to select a lion _rampant_ or a stag _couchant_ because he thinks it looks stylish, is as though, for the same reason, he changed his name from muggins to marmaduke, and quite properly subjects him to ridicule. (strictly speaking, a woman has the right to use a "lozenge" only; since in heraldic days women did not bear arms, but no one in this country follows heraldic rule to this extent.) =the personal device= it is occasionally the fancy of artists or young girls to adopt some especial symbol associated with themselves. the "butterfly" of whistler for instance is as well-known as his name. a painter of marines has the small outline of a ship stamped on his writing paper, and a new york architect the capital of an ionic column. a generation ago young women used to fancy such an intriguing symbol as a mask, a sphinx, a question mark, or their own names, if their names were such as could be pictured. there can be no objection to one's appropriation of such an emblem if one fancies it. but lilly, belle, dolly and kitten are lillian, isabel, dorothy and katherine in these days, and appropriate hall-marks are not easily found. =country house stationery: for a big house= in selecting paper for a country house we go back to the subject of suitability. a big house in important grounds should have very plain, very dignified letter paper. it may be white or tinted blue or gray. the name of the place should be engraved, in the center usually, at the top of the first page. it may be placed left, or right, as preferred. slanting across the upper corners or in a list at the upper left side, may be put as many addresses as necessary. many persons use a whole row of small devices in outline, the engine of a train and beside it ardmoor, meaning that ardmoor is the railroad station. a telegraph pole, an envelope, a telephone instrument--and beside each an address. these devices are suitable for all places, whether they are great or tiny, that have different addresses for railroad, post-office, telephone telegraph. [illustration: (train) stirlington, new york] [illustration: (telegraph pole and envelopes) ringwood, new jersey] [illustration: (telephone) sloatsburg, seven-three-two] _for the little house_ on the other hand, farmhouses and little places in the country may have very bright-colored stamping, as well as gay-lined envelopes. places with easily illustrated names quite often have them pictured; the "bird-cage," for instance, may have a bright blue paper with a bird-cage in supposed red lacquer; the "bandbox," a fantastically decorated milliner's box on oyster gray paper, the envelope lining of black and gray pin stripes, and the "doll's house" might use the outline of a doll's house in grass green on green-bordered white paper, and white envelopes lined with grass green. each of these devices must be as small as the outline of a cherry pit and the paper of the smallest size that comes. (envelopes - / x inches or paper x and envelopes the same size to hold paper without folding.) [illustration: (three envelope corners with logos)] it is foolish perhaps to give the description of such papers, for their fashion is but of the moment. a jeweler from paris has been responsible for their present vogue in new york, and his clientele is only among the young and smart. older and more conservative women (and, of course, all men) keep to the plain fashion of yesterday, which will just as surely be the fashion of to-morrow. =mourning paper= persons who are in mourning use black-edged visiting cards, letter paper and envelopes. the depth of black corresponds with the depth of mourning and the closeness of relation to the one who has gone, the width decreasing as one's mourning lightens. the width of black to use is a matter of personal taste and feeling. a very heavy border (from / to / of an inch) announces the deepest retirement. =dating a letter= usually the date is put at the upper right hand of the first page of a letter, or at the end, and to the left of the signature, of a note. it is far less confusing for one's correspondent to read january , , than - - . theoretically, one should write out the date in full: the ninth of january, nineteen hundred and twenty-one. that, however, is the height of pedantry, and an unswallowable mouthful at the top of any page not a document. at the end of a note "thursday" is sufficient unless the note is an invitation for more than a week ahead, in which case write as in a letter, "january " or "the ninth of january." the year is not necessary since it can hardly be supposed to take a year for a letter's transportation. =sequence of pages= if a note is longer than one page, the third page is usually next, as this leaves the fourth blank and prevents the writing from showing through the envelope. with heavy or tissue-lined envelopes, the fourth is used as often as the third. in letters one may write first, second, third, fourth, in regular order; or first and fourth, then, opening the sheet and turning it sideways, write across the two inside pages as one. many prefer to write on first, third, then sideways across second and fourth. in certain cities--boston, for instance--the last word on a page is repeated at the top of the next. it is undoubtedly a good idea, but makes a stuttering impression upon one not accustomed to it. =folding a note= as to whether a letter is folded in such a way that the recipient shall read the contents without having to turn the paper, is giving too much importance to nothing. it is sufficient if the paper is folded _neatly_, once, of course, for the envelope that is half the length of the paper, and twice for the envelope that is a third. =sealing wax= if you use sealing wax, let us hope you are an adept at making an even and smoothly finished seal. choose a plain-colored wax rather than one speckled with metal. with the sort of paper described for country houses, or for young people, or those living in studios or bungalows, gay sealing wax may be quite alluring, especially if it can be persuaded to pour smoothly like liquid, and not to look like a streaked and broken off slice of dough. in days when envelopes were unknown, all letters had to be sealed, hence when envelopes were made, the idea obtained that it was improper to use both gum-arabic and wax. strictly speaking this may be true, but since all envelopes have mucilage, it would be unreasonable to demand that those who like to use sealing wax have their envelopes made to order. =form of address= the most formal beginning of a social letter is "my dear mrs. smith." (the fact that in england "dear mrs. smith" is more formal does not greatly concern us in america.) "dear mrs. smith," "dear sarah," "dear sally," "sally dear," "dearest sally," "darling sally," are increasingly intimate. business letters begin: smith, johnson & co., broadway, new york. dear sirs: or if more personal: john smith & co., broadway, new york. my dear mr. smith: =the complimentary close= the close of a business letter should be "yours truly," or "yours very truly." "respectfully" is used only by a tradesman to a customer, an employee to an employer, or by an inferior, never by a person of equal position. no lady should ever sign a letter "respectfully," not even were she writing to a queen. if an american lady should have occasion to write to a queen, she should conclude her letter "i have the honor to remain, madam, your most obedient." (for address and close of letters to persons of title, see table at the end of this chapter.) =close of personal notes and letters= it is too bad that the english language does not permit the charming and graceful closing of all letters in the french manner, those little flowers of compliment that leave such a pleasant fragrance after reading. but ever since the eighteenth century the english-speaking have been busy pruning away all ornament of expression; even the last remaining graces, "kindest regards," "with kindest remembrances," are fast disappearing, leaving us nothing but an abrupt "yours truly," or "sincerely yours." _closing a formal note_ the best ending to a formal social note is, "sincerely," "sincerely yours," "very sincerely," "very sincerely yours," "yours always sincerely," or "always sincerely yours." "i remain, dear madam," is no longer in use, but "believe me" is still correct when formality is to be expressed in the close of a note. believe me very sincerely yours, or believe me, my dear mrs. worldly, most sincerely yours, this last is an english form, but it is used by quite a number of americans--particularly those who have been much abroad. _appropriate for a man_ "faithfully" or "faithfully yours" is a very good signature for a man in writing to a woman, or in any uncommercial correspondence, such as a letter to the president of the united states, a member of the cabinet, an ambassador, a clergyman, etc. _the intimate closing_ "affectionately yours," "always affectionately," "affectionately," "devotedly," "lovingly," "your loving" are in increasing scale of intimacy. "lovingly" is much more intimate than "affectionately" and so is "devotedly." "sincerely" in formal notes and "affectionately" in intimate notes are the two adverbs most used in the present day, and between these two there is a blank; in english we have no expression to fit sentiment more friendly than the first nor one less intimate than the second. _not good form_ "cordially" was coined no doubt to fill this need, but its self-consciousness puts it in the category with "residence" and "retire," and all the other offenses of pretentiousness, and in new york, at least, it is not used by people of taste. "warmly yours" is unspeakable. "yours in haste" or "hastily yours" is not bad form, but is rather carelessly rude. "in a tearing hurry" is a termination dear to the boarding school girl; but its truth does not make it any more attractive than the vision of that same young girl rushing into a room with her hat and coat half on, to swoop upon her mother with a peck of a kiss, and with a "--by, mamma!" whirl out again! turmoil and flurry may be characteristic of the manners of to-day; both are far from the ideal of beautiful manners which should be as assured, as smooth, as controlled as the running of a high-grade automobile. flea-like motions are no better suited to manners than to motors. _other endings_ "gratefully" is used only when a benefit has been received, as to a lawyer who has skilfully handled a case; to a surgeon who has saved a life dear to you; to a friend who has been put to unusual trouble to do you a favor. in an ordinary letter of thanks, the signature is "sincerely," "affectionately," "devotedly"--as the case may be. the phrases that a man might devise to close a letter to his betrothed or his wife are bound only by the limit of his imagination and do not belong in this, or any, book. =the signature= abroad, the higher the rank, the shorter the name. a duke, for instance, signs himself "marlborough," nothing else, and a queen her first name "victoria." the social world in europe, therefore, laughs at us for using our whole names, or worse yet, inserting meaningless initials in our signatures. etiquette in accord with europe also objects strenuously to initials and demands that names be always engraved, and, if possible, written in full, but only very correct people strictly observe this rule. in europe all persons have so many names given them in baptism that they are forced, naturally, to lay most of them aside, selecting one, or at most two, for use. in america, the names bestowed at baptism become inseparably part of each individual, so that if the name is overlong, a string of initials is the inevitable result. since, in america, it is not customary for a man to discard any of his names, and john hunter titherington smith is far too much of a pen-full for the one who signs thousands of letters and documents, it is small wonder that he chooses j.h.t. smith, instead, or perhaps, at the end of personal letters, john h.t. smith. why shouldn't he? it is, after all, his own name to sign as he chooses, and in addressing him deference to his choice should be shown. a married woman should always sign a letter to a stranger, a bank, business firm, etc., with her baptismal name, and add, in parenthesis, her married name. thus: very truly yours, sarah robinson smith. (mrs. j.h. titherington smith.) never under any circumstances sign a letter "mr.", "mrs.", or "miss" (except a note written in the third person). if, in the example above, sarah robinson smith were "miss" she would put "miss" in parenthesis to the left of her signature: (miss) sarah robinson smith. =the superscription= formal invitations are always addressed to mr. stanley smith; all other personal letters may be addressed to stanley smith, esq. the title of esquire formerly was used to denote the eldest son of a knight or members of a younger branch of a noble house. later all graduates of universities, professional and literary men, and important landholders were given the right to this title, which even to-day denotes a man of education--a gentleman. john smith, esquire, is john smith, gentleman. mr. john smith may be a gentleman; or may not be one. and yet, as noted above, all engraved invitations are addressed "mr." never under any circumstances address a social letter or note to a married woman, even if she is a widow, as mrs. mary town. a widow is still mrs. james town. if her son's wife should have the same name, she becomes mrs. james town, sr., or simply mrs. town. a divorced woman, if she was the innocent person, retains the right if she chooses, to call herself mrs. john brown smith, but usually she prefers to take her own surname. supposing her to have been mary simpson, she calls herself mrs. simpson smith. if a lady is the wife or widow of "the head of a family" she may call herself mrs. smith, even on visiting cards and invitations. the eldest daughter is miss smith; her younger sister, miss jane smith. invitations to children are addressed, miss katherine smith and master robert smith. do not write "the messrs. brown" in addressing a father and son. "the messrs. brown" is correct only for unmarried brothers. although one occasionally sees an envelope addressed to "mr. and mrs. jones," and "miss jones" written underneath the names of her parents, it is better form to send a separate invitation addressed to miss jones alone. a wedding invitation addressed to mr. and mrs. jones and family is not in good taste. even if the jones children are young, the misses jones should receive a separate envelope, and so should master jones. =one last remark= write the name and address on the envelope as precisely and as legibly as you can. the post-office has enough to do in deciphering the letters of the illiterate, without being asked to do unnecessary work for you! =business letters= business letters written by a private individual differ very little from those sent out from a business house. a lady never says "yours of the th received and contents noted," or "yours to hand," nor does she address the firm as "gentlemen," nor does she _ever_ sign herself "respectfully." a business letter should be as brief and explicit as possible. for example: tuxedo park new york may , i. paint & co., branch st., new york. dear sirs: your estimate for painting my dining-room, library, south bedroom, and dressing-room is satisfactory, and you may proceed with the work as soon as possible. i find, on the other hand, that wainscoting the hall comes to more than i had anticipated, and i have decided to leave it as it is for the present. very truly yours, c.r. town. (mrs. james town) =the social note= there should be no more difficulty in writing a social note than in writing a business letter; each has a specific message for its sole object and the principle of construction is the same: * date address (on business letter only) salutation: the statement of whatever is the purpose of the note. complimentary close, signature. * or date here the difference in form between a business and a social note is that the full name and address of the person written to is never put in the latter, better quality stationery is used, and the salutation is "my dear ----" or "dear ----" instead of "dear sir:" example: park avenue dear mrs. robinson: i am enclosing the list i promised you--luberge makes the most beautiful things. mower, the dressmaker, has for years made clothes for me, and i think revaud the best milliner in paris. leonie is a "little milliner" who often has pretty blouses as well as hats and is very reasonable. i do hope the addresses will be of some use to you, and that you will have a delightful trip, very sincerely, martha kindhart. thursday. =the note of apology= examples: =i= broadlawns dear mrs. town: i do deeply apologize for my seeming rudeness in having to send the message about monday night. when i accepted your invitation, i stupidly forgot entirely that monday was a holiday and that all of my own guests, naturally, were not leaving until tuesday morning, and arthur and i could not therefore go out by ourselves and leave them! we were too disappointed and hope that you know how sorry we were not to be with you. very sincerely, ethel norman. tuesday morning. =ii= dear mrs. neighbor: my gardener has just told me that our chickens got into your flower beds, and did a great deal of damage. the chicken netting is being built higher at this moment and they will not be able to damage anything again. i shall, of course, send patrick to put in shrubs to replace those broken, although i know that ones newly planted cannot compensate for those you have lost, and i can only ask you to accept my contrite apologies. always sincerely yours, katherine de puyster eminent. =letters of thanks= in the following examples of letters intimate and from young persons, such profuse expressions as "divine," "awfully," "petrified," "too sweet," "too wonderful," are purposely inserted, because to change all of the above enthusiasms into "pleased with," "very," "feared," "most kind," would be to change the vitality of the "real" letters into smug and self-conscious utterances at variance with anything ever written by young men and women of to-day. even the letters of older persons, although they are more restrained than those of youth, avoid anything suggesting pedantry and affectation. do not from this suppose that well-bred people write badly! on the contrary, perfect simplicity and freedom from self-consciousness are possible only to those who have acquired at least some degree of cultivation. for flagrant examples of pretentiousness (which is the infallible sign of lack of breeding), see page . for simplicity of expression, such as is unattainable to the rest of us, but which we can at least strive to emulate, read first the bible; then at random one might suggest such authors as robert louis stevenson, e.s. martin, agnes repplier, john galsworthy and max beerbohm. e.v. lucas has written two novels in letter form--which illustrate the best type of present day letter-writing. =letters of thanks for wedding presents= although all wedding presents belong to the bride, she generally words her letters of thanks as though they belonged equally to the groom, especially if they have been sent by particular friends of his. _to intimate friends of the groom_ dear mrs. norman: to think of your sending us all this wonderful glass! it is simply divine, and jim and i both thank you a thousand times! the presents are, of course, to be shown on the day of the wedding, but do come in on tuesday at tea time for an earlier view. thanking you again, and with love from us both, affectionately, mary. _formal_ =i= dear mrs. gilding: it was more than sweet of you and mr. gilding to send us such a lovely clock. thank you, very, very much. looking forward to seeing you on the tenth, very sincerely, mary smith. sometimes, as in the two examples above, thanks to the husband are definitely expressed in writing to the wife. usually, however, "you" is understood to mean "you both." =ii= dear mrs. worldly: all my life i have wanted a piece of jade, but in my wanting i have never imagined one quite so beautiful as the one you have sent me. it was wonderfully sweet of you and i thank you more than i can tell you for the pleasure you have given me. affectionately, mary smith. =iii.= dear mrs. eminent: thank you for these wonderful prints. they go too beautifully with some old english ones that jim's uncle sent us, and our dining-room will be quite perfect--as to walls! hoping that you are surely coming to the wedding, very sincerely, mary smith. _to a friend who is in deep mourning_ dear susan: with all you have on your heart just now, it was so sweet and thoughtful of you to go out and buy me a present, and such a beautiful one! i love it--and your thought of me in sending it--and i thank you more than i can tell you. devotedly, mary. _very intimate_ dear aunt kate: really you are too generous--it is outrageous of you--but, of course, it _is_ the most beautiful bracelet! and i am so excited oven it, i hardly know what i am doing. you are too good to me and you spoil me, but i do love you, and it, and thank you with all my heart. mary. _intimate_ dear mrs. neighbor: the tea cloth is perfectly exquisite! i have never _seen_ such beautiful work! i appreciate your lovely gift more than i can tell you, both for its own sake and for your kindness in making it for me. don't forget, you are coming in on tuesday afternoon to see the presents. lovingly, mary. sometimes pushing people send presents, when they are not asked to the wedding, in the hope of an invitation. sometimes others send presents, when they are not asked, merely through kindly feeling toward a young couple on the threshold of life. it ought not to be difficult to distinguish between the two. =i= my dear mrs. upstart: thank you for the very handsome candlesticks you sent us. they were a great surprize, but it was more than kind of you to think of us. very sincerely, mary smith. =ii= dear mrs. kindly: i can't tell you how sweet i think it of you to send us such a lovely present, and jim and i both hope that when we are in our own home, you will see them often at our table. thanking you many times for your thought of us, very sincerely, mary smith. _for a present sent after the wedding_ dear mrs. chatterton: the mirror you sent us is going over our drawing-room mantel just as soon as we can hang it up! it is exactly what we most needed and we both thank you ever so much. please come in soon to see how becoming it will be to the room. yours affectionately, mary smith smartlington. =thanks for christmas or other presents= dear lucy: i really think it was adorable of you to have a chair like yours made for me. it was worth adding a year to my age for such a nice birthday present. jack says i am never going to have a chance to sit in it, however, if he gets there first, and even the children look at it with longing. at all events, i am perfectly enchanted with it, and thank you ever and ever so much. affectionately, sally. dear uncle arthur: i know i oughtn't to have opened it until christmas, but i couldn't resist the look of the package, and then putting it on at once! so i am all dressed up in your beautiful chain. it is one of the loveliest things i have ever seen and i certainly am lucky to have it given to me i thank you a thousand--and then more--times for it. rosalie. dear kate: i am fascinated with my utility box--it is too beguiling for words! you are the cleverest one anyway for finding what no one else can--and every one wants. i don't know how you do it! and you certainly were sweet to think of me. thank you, dear. ethel. =thanks for present to a baby= dear mrs. kindhart: of course it would be! because no one else can sew like you! the sacque you made the baby is the prettiest thing i have ever seen, and is perfectly adorable on her! thank you, as usual, you dear mrs. kindhart, for your goodness to your affectionate, sally. dear mrs. norman: thank you ever so much for the lovely afghan you sent the baby. it is by far the prettiest one he has; it is so soft and close--he doesn't get his fingers tangled in it. do come in and see him, won't you? we are both allowed visitors (especial ones) every day between and . ! affectionately always, lucy. =the bread and butter letter= when you have been staying over sunday, or for longer, in some one's house, it is absolutely necessary that you write a letter of thanks to your hostess within a few days after the visit. "bread and butter letters," as they are called, are the stumbling-blocks of visitors. why they are so difficult for nearly every one is hard to determine, unless it is that they are often written to persons with whom you are on formal terms, and the letter should be somewhat informal in tone. very likely you have been visiting a friend, and must write to her mother, whom you scarcely know; perhaps you have been included in a large and rather formal house party and the hostess is an acquaintance rather than a friend; or perhaps you are a bride and have been on a first visit to relatives or old friends of your husband's, but strangers, until now, to you. as an example of the first, where you have been visiting a girl friend and must write a letter to her mother, you begin "dear mrs. town" at the top of a page, and nothing in the forbidding memory of mrs. town encourages you to go further. it would be easy enough to write to pauline, the daughter. very well, write to pauline then--on an odd piece of paper, in pencil, what a good time you had, how nice it was to be with her. then copy your note composed to pauline off on the page beginning "dear mrs. town." you have only to add, "love to pauline, and thanking you again for asking me," sign it "very sincerely," and there you are! don't be afraid that your note is too informal; older people are always pleased with any expressions from the young that seem friendly and spontaneous. never think, because you can not easily write a letter, that it is better not to write at all. the most awkward note that can be imagined is better than none--for to write none is the depth of rudeness, whereas the awkward note merely fails to delight. =examples= _from a young woman to a formal hostess after a house party_ dear mrs. norman: i don't know when i ever had such a good time as i did at broadlawns. thank you a thousand times for asking me. as it happened, the first persons i saw on monday at the towns' dinner were celia and donald. we immediately had a threesome conversation on the wonderful time we all had over sunday. thanking you again for your kindness to me, very sincerely yours, grace smalltalk. _to a formal hostess after an especially amusing week-end_ dear mrs. worldly: every moment at great estates was a perfect delight! i am afraid my work at the office this morning was down to zero in efficiency; so perhaps it is just as well, if i am to keep my job, that the average week-end in the country is different--very. thank you all the same, for the wonderful time you gave us all, and believe me faithfully yours, frederick bachelor. dear mrs. worldly: every time i come from great estates, i realize again that there is no house to which i always go with so much pleasure, and leave on monday morning with so much regret. your party over this last week-end was simply wonderful! and thank you ever so much for having included me. always sincerely, constance style. _from a young couple_ dear mrs. town: we had a perfect time at tuxedo over sunday and it was so good of you to include us. jack says he is going to practise putting the way mr. town showed him, and maybe the next time he plays in a foursome he won't be such a handicap to his partner. thanking you both for the pleasure you gave us, affectionately yours, sally titherington littlehouse _from a bride to her new relatives-in-law_ a letter that was written by a bride after paying a first visit to her husband's aunt and uncle won for her at a stroke the love of the whole family. this is the letter: dear "aunt annie": now that it is all over, i have a confession to make! do you know that when dick drove me up to your front door and i saw you and uncle bob standing on the top step--i was simply _paralyzed_ with fright! "suppose they don't like me," was all that i could think. of course, i knew you loved dick--but that only made it worse. how awful, if you _couldn't_ like me! the reason i stumbled coming up the steps was because my knees were actually knocking together! you remember, uncle bob sang out it was good i was already married, or i wouldn't be this year? and then--you were both so perfectly adorable to me--and you made me feel as though i had always been your niece--and not just the wife of your nephew. i loved every minute of our being with you, dear aunt annie, just as much as dick did, and we hope you are going to let us come soon again. with best love from us both, your affectionate niece, helen. the above type of letter would not serve perhaps if dick's aunt had been a forbidding and austere type of woman; but even such a one would be far more apt to take a new niece to her heart if the new niece herself gave evidence of having one. _after visiting a friend_ dear kate: it was hideously dull and stuffy in town this morning after the fresh coolness of strandholm. the back yard is not an alluring outlook after the wide spaces and delicious fragrance of your garden. it was good being with you and i enjoyed every moment. don't forget you are lunching here on the th and that we are going to hear kreisler together. devotedly always, caroline. _from a man who has been ill and convalescing at a friend's house_ dear martha: i certainly hated taking that train this morning and realizing that the end had come to my peaceful days. you and john and the children, and your place, which is the essence of all that a "home" ought to be, have put me on my feet again. i thank you much--much more than i can say for the wonderful goodness of all of you. fred. _from a woman who has been visiting a very old friend_ i loved my visit with you, dear mary; it was more than good to be with you and have a chance for long talks at your fireside. don't forget your promise to come here in may! i told sam and hettie you were coming, and now the whole town is ringing with the news, and every one is planning a party for you. david sends "his best" to you and charlie, and you know you always have the love of your devoted pat. _to an acquaintance_ after a visit to a formal acquaintance or when some one has shown you especial hospitality in a city where you are a stranger: my dear mrs. duluth: it was more than good of you to give my husband and me so much pleasure. we enjoyed, and appreciated, all your kindness to us more than we can say. we hope that you and mr. duluth may be coming east before long and that we may then have the pleasure of seeing you at strandholm. in the meanwhile, thanking you for your generous hospitality, and with kindest regards to you both, in which my husband joins, believe me, very sincerely yours, katherine de puyster eminent. =an engraved card of thanks= an engraved card of thanks is proper only when sent by a public official to acknowledge the overwhelming number of congratulatory messages he must inevitably receive from strangers, when he has carried an election or otherwise been honored with the confidence of his state or country. a recent and excellent example follows: =executive mansion= my dear.... =i warmly appreciate your kind message of congratulation which has given me a great deal of pleasure, and sincerely wish that it were possible for me to acknowledge it in a less formal manner.= =faithfully,= (_signed by hand_) an engraved form of thanks for sympathy, also from one in public life, is presented in the following example: mr. john smith wishes to express his deep gratitude and to thank you for your kind expression of sympathy _but remember_: an engraved card sent by a private individual to a personal friend, is not "stylish" or smart, but _rude_. (see also engraved acknowledgment of sympathy, pages - .) =the letter of introduction= a letter of business introduction can be much more freely given than a letter of social introduction. for the former it is necessary merely that the persons introduced have business interests in common--which are much more easily determined than social compatibility, which is the requisite necessary for the latter. it is, of course, proper to give your personal representative a letter of introduction to whomever you send him. on the subject of letters of social introduction there is one chief rule: never _ask_ for letters of introduction, and be very sparing in your offers to write or accept them. seemingly few persons realize that a letter of social introduction is actually a draft for payment on demand. the form might as well be: "the bearer of this has (because of it) the right to _demand your interest_, your time, your hospitality--liberally and at once, no matter what your inclination may be." therefore, it is far better to refuse in the beginning, than to hedge and end by committing the greater error of unwarrantedly inconveniencing a valued friend or acquaintance. when you have a friend who is going to a city where you have other friends, and you believe that it will be a mutual pleasure for them to meet, a letter of introduction is proper and very easy to write, but sent to a casual acquaintance--no matter how attractive or distinguished the person to be introduced--it is a gross presumption. =the more formal note of introduction= dear mrs. marks: julian gibbs is going to buffalo on january tenth to deliver a lecture on his polar expedition, and i am sending him a card of introduction to you. he is very agreeable personally, and i think that perhaps you and mr. marks will enjoy meeting him as much as i know he would enjoy knowing you. with kindest regards, in which arthur joins, very sincerely, ethel norman. if mr. norman were introducing one man to another he would give his card to the former, inscribed as follows: [hw: introducing julian gibbs] =mr. arthur lees norman= broadlawns also mr. norman would send a private letter by mail, telling his friend that mr. gibbs is coming, as follows: dear marks: i am giving julian gibbs a card of introduction to you when he goes to buffalo on the tenth to lecture. he is an entertaining and very decent fellow, and i think possibly mrs. marks would enjoy meeting him. if you can conveniently ask him to your house, i know he would appreciate it; if not, perhaps you will put him up for a day or two at a club. faithfully, arthur norman. =informal letter of introduction= dear claire: a very great friend of ours, james dawson, is to be in chicago for several weeks. any kindness that you can show him will be greatly appreciated by yours as always, ethel norman. at the same time a second and private letter of information is written and sent by mail: dear claire: i wrote you a letter to-day introducing jim dawson. he used to be on the yalvard football team, perhaps you remember. he is one of the best sort in the world and i know you will like him. i don't want to put you to any trouble, but do ask him to your house if you can. he plays a wonderful game of golf and a good game of bridge, but he is more a man's than a woman's type of man. maybe if tom likes him, he will put him up at a club as he is to be in chicago for some weeks. affectionately always, ethel. another example: dear caroline: a very dear friend of mine, mrs. fred west, is going to be in new york this winter, while her daughter is at barnard. i am asking her to take this letter to you as i want very much to have her meet you and have her daughter meet pauline. anything that you can do for them will be the same as for me! yours affectionately, sylvia greatlake. the private letter by mail to accompany the foregoing: dearest caroline: mildred west, for whom i wrote to you this morning, is a very close friend of mine. she is going to new york with her only daughter--who, in spite of wanting a college education, is as pretty as a picture, with plenty of come-hither in the eye--so do not be afraid that the typical blue-stocking is to be thrust upon pauline! the mother is an altogether lovely person and i know that you and she will speak the same language--if i didn't, i wouldn't give her a letter to you. do go to see her as soon as you can; she will be stopping at the fitz-cherry and probably feeling rather lost at first. she wants to take an apartment for the winter and i told her i was sure you would know the best real estate and intelligence offices, etc., for her to go to. i hope i am not putting you to any trouble about her, but she is really a darling and you will like her i know. devotedly yours, sylvia. directions for procedure upon being given (or receiving) a letter of introduction will be found on pages and . =the third person= in other days when even verbal messages began with the "presenting of compliments," a social note, no matter what its length or purport, would have been considered rude, unless written in the third person. but as in a communication of any length the difficulty of this form is almost insurmountable (to say nothing of the pedantic effect of its accomplishment), it is no longer chosen--aside from the formal invitation, acceptance and regret--except for notes to stores or subordinates. for example: will b. stern & co. please send (and charge) to mrs. john h. smith, madison avenue, paper of needles no. spools white sewing cotton no. yard of material (sample enclosed). january . to a servant: mrs. eminent wishes patrick to meet her at the station on tuesday the eighth at . . she also wishes him to have the shutters opened and the house aired on that day, and a fire lighted in the northwest room. no provisions will be necessary as mrs. eminent is returning to town on the . . tuesday, march . letters in the third person are no longer signed unless the sender's signature is necessary for identification, or for some action on the part of the receiver, such as will mr. cash please give the bearer six yards of material to match the sample enclosed, and oblige, mrs. john h. smith.[a] [footnote a: a note in rd person is the single occasion when a married woman signs "mrs." before her name.] =the letter of recommendation= a letter of recommendation for membership to a club is addressed to the secretary and should be somewhat in this form: to the secretary of the town club. my dear mrs. brown: mrs. titherington smith, whose name is posted for membership, is a very old and close friend of mine. she is the daughter of the late rev. samuel eminent and is therefore a member in her own right, as well as by marriage, of representative new york families. she is a person of much charm and distinction, and her many friends will agree with me, i am sure, in thinking that she would be a valuable addition to the club. very sincerely, ethel norman. =recommendation of employees= although the written recommendation that is given to the employee carries very little weight, compared to the slip from the employment agencies where either "yes" or "no" has to be answered to a list of specific and important questions, one is nevertheless put in a trying position when reporting on an unsatisfactory servant. either a poor reference must be given--possibly preventing a servant from earning her living--or one has to write what is not true. consequently it has become the custom to say what one truthfully can of good, and leave out the qualifications that are bad (except in the case of a careless nurse, where evasion would border on the criminal). that solves the poor recommendation problem pretty well; but unless one is very careful this consideration for the "poor" one, is paid for by the "good." in writing for a very worthy servant therefore, it is of the utmost importance in fairness to her (or him) to put in every merit that you can think of, remembering that omission implies demerit in each trait of character not mentioned. all good references should include honesty, sobriety, capability, and a reason, other than their unsatisfactoriness, for their leaving. the recommendation for a nurse can not be too conscientiously written. a lady does not begin a recommendation: "to whom it may concern," nor "this is to certify," although housekeepers and head servants writing recommendations use both of these forms, and "third person" letters, are frequently written by secretaries. a lady in giving a good reference should write: two hundred park square. selma johnson has lived with me for two years as cook. i have found her honest, sober, industrious, neat in her person as well as her work, of amiable disposition and a very good cook. she is leaving to my great regret because i am closing my house for the winter. selma is an excellent servant in every way and i shall be glad to answer personally any inquiries about her. josephine smith. (mrs. titherington smith) october, . the form of all recommendations is the same: ---- has lived with me ---- months years as ----. i have found him/ her ----. he/she is leaving because ----. (any special remark of added recommendation or showing interest) ---- (mrs. ----) date. =letters of congratulation= =letter of congratulation on engagement= dear mary: while we are not altogether surprized, we are both delighted to hear the good news. jim's family and ours are very close, as you know, and we have always been especially devoted to jim. he is one of the finest--and now luckiest, of young men, and we send you both every good wish for all possible happiness. affectionately, ethel norman. just a line, dear jim, to tell you how glad we all are to hear of your happiness. mary is everything that is lovely and, of course, from our point of view, we don't think her exactly unfortunate either! every good wish that imagination can think of goes to you from your old friends. ethel and arthur norman. i can't tell you, dearest mary, of all the wishes i send for your happiness. give jim my love and tell him how lucky i think he is, and how much i hope all good fortune will come to you both. lovingly, aunt kate. =congratulation on some especial success= my dear mrs. brown: we have just heard of the honors that your son has won. how proud you must be of him! we are both so glad for him and for you. please congratulate him for us, and believe me, very sincerely, ethel norman. or: dear mrs. brown: we are so glad to hear the good news of david's success; it was a very splendid accomplishment and we are all so proud of him and of you. please give him our love and congratulations, and with full measure of both to you, affectionately, martha kindhart. =congratulating a friend appointed to high office= dear john: we are overjoyed at the good news! for once the reward has fallen where it is deserved. certainly no one is better fitted than yourself for a diplomat's life, and we know you will fill the position to the honor of your country. please give my love to alice, and with renewed congratulations to you from us both. yours always, ethel norman. another example: dear michael: we all rejoice with you in the confirmation of your appointment. the state needs just such men as you--if we had more of your sort the ordinary citizen would have less to worry about. our best congratulations! john kindhart. =the letter of condolence= intimate letters of condolence are like love letters, in that they are too sacred to follow a set form. one rule, and one only, should guide you in writing such letters. say what you truly feel. say that and nothing else. sit down at your desk, let your thoughts dwell on the person you are writing to. don't dwell on the details of illness or the manner of death; don't quote endlessly from the poets and scriptures. remember that eyes filmed with tears and an aching heart can not follow rhetorical lengths of writing. the more nearly a note can express a hand-clasp, a thought of sympathy, above all, a genuine love or appreciation of the one who has gone, the greater comfort it brings. write as simply as possible and let your heart speak as truly and as briefly as you can. forget, if you can, that you are using written words, think merely how you feel--then put your feelings on paper--that is all. supposing it is a young mother who has died. you think how young and sweet she was--and of her little children, and, literally, your heart aches for them and her husband and her own family. into your thoughts must come some expression of what she was, and what their loss must be! or maybe it is the death of a man who has left a place in the whole community that will be difficult, if not impossible, to fill, and you think of all he stood for that was fine and helpful to others, and how much and sorely he will be missed. or suppose that you are a returned soldier, and it is a pal who has died. all you can think of is "poor old steve--what a peach he was! i don't think anything will ever be the same again without him." say just that! ask if there is anything you can do at any time to be of service to his people. there is nothing more to be said. a line, into which you have unconsciously put a little of the genuine feeling that you had for steve, is worth pages of eloquence. a letter of condolence may be abrupt, badly constructed, ungrammatical--never mind. grace of expression counts for nothing; sincerity alone is of value. it is the expression, however clumsily put, of a personal something which was loved, and will ever be missed, that alone brings solace to those who are left. your message may speak merely of a small incident--something so trifling that in the seriousness of the present, seems not worth recording; but your letter and that of many others, each bringing a single sprig, may plant a whole memory-garden in the hearts of the bereaved. =examples of notes and telegrams= as has been said above, a letter of condolence must above everything express a genuine sentiment. the few examples are inserted merely as suggestive guides for those at a loss to construct a short but appropriate note or telegram. _conventional note to an acquaintance_ i know how little the words of an outsider mean to you just now--but i must tell you how deeply i sympathize with you in your great loss. _note or telegram to a friend_ all my sympathy and all my thoughts are with you in your great sorrow. if i can be of any service to you, you know how grateful i shall be. _telegram to a very near relative or friend_ words are so empty! if only i knew how to fill them with love and send them to you. or: if love and thoughts could only help you, margaret dear, you should have all the strength of both that i can give. _letter where death was release_ the letter to one whose loss is "for the best" is difficult in that you want to express sympathy but can not feel sad that one who has long suffered has found release. the expression of sympathy in this case should not be for the present death, but for the illness, or whatever it was that fell long ago. the grief for a paralysed mother is for the stroke which cut her down many years before, and your sympathy, though you may not have realized it, is for that. you might write: your sorrow during all these years--and now--is in my heart; and all my thoughts and sympathy are with you. =how to address important personages= ===============+=====================+============================+============= | if you | | formal | are speaking, | | beginning of | you say: | envelope addressed: | a letter: ---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+------------- the president | mr. president | the president of the | sir: | and occasionally | united states | | throughout a | or merely | | conversation, | the president, | | sir. | washington, d.c. | | | (there is only one | | | "president") | | | | | | | ---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+------------- the | mr. vice-president | the vice-president, | sir: vice-president | and then, sir. | washington, d.c. | | | | ---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+------------- justice of | mr. justice | the hon. william h. taft, | sir: supreme court | | chief justice of the | | | supreme court, | | | washington, d.c. | | | | | | | ---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+------------- member of the | mr. secretary | the secretary of commerce, | dear sir: president's | | washington, d.c. or: | or cabinet | | the hon. herbert hoover, | sir: | | secretary of commerce, | | | washington, d.c. | ---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+------------- united states | senator lodge | senator henry cabot lodge, | dear sir: (or state) | | washington, d.c. | or senator | | or a private letter: | sir: | | senator henry cabot lodge, | | | (his house address) | | | | ---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+------------- member of | mr. bell | the hon. h.c. bell, jr., | dear sir: congress (or | or, you may say | house of representatives, | or legislature) | congressman | washington, d.c. | sir: | | or: state assembly, | | | albany, new york. | ---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+------------- governor | governor miller | his excellency, the | | (the governor is | governor, | your | not called | albany, new york. | excellency: | excellency when | | | spoken to and very | | | rarely when he is | | | announced. but | | | letters are | | | addressed and begun | | | with this title | | | of courtesy.) | | ---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+------------- mayor | mr. mayor | his honor the mayor, | dear sir: | | city hall, chicago. | or | | | sir: ---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+------------- cardinal | your eminence | his eminence john cardinal | your | | gibbons, baltimore, md. | eminence: | | | | | | ===============+=====================+========================================== (section ) +==============+================================================================ | | | | | informal | | | correct titles in | beginning: | formal close: | informal close: | introduction: |--------------+---------------------+---------------------+-------------------- | my dear mr. | i have the honor to | | | president: | remain, | i have the honor to | | | most respectfully | remain, | | | yours, | yours faithfully, | | | or | or | the president. | | i have the honor to | i am, dear | | | remain, sir, | mr. president, | | | your most obedient | yours faithfully. | | | servant. | | +--------------+---------------------+---------------------+-------------------- | my dear | same as for | believe me, | the | mr. vice | president. | yours faithfully. | vice-president. | president: | | | +--------------+---------------------+---------------------+-------------------- | dear mr. | believe me, | | the chief justice | justice | yours very truly, | | or, | taft: | or | believe me, | if an | | i have the honor to | yours faithfully. | associate justice, | | remain, | | mr. justice | | yours very truly. | | holmes. +--------------+---------------------+---------------------+-------------------- | my dear mr. | | | the secretary | secretary: | same as above. | same as above. | of commerce. | | | | | | | | | | | | +--------------+---------------------+---------------------+-------------------- | dear senator | | | senator lodge. | lodge: | | | on very formal | | same as above. | same as above. | and unusual | | | | occasions, | | | | senator lodge of | | | | massachusetts. +--------------+---------------------+---------------------+-------------------- | dear | | | mr. bell. | mr. bell: | believe me, | | | or | yours very truly. | yours faithfully. | | dear | | | | congressman: | | | +--------------+---------------------+---------------------+-------------------- | dear | | | the governor | governor | i have the honor to | believe me, |(in his own state) | miller: | remain, | yours faithfully. | or, (out of it,) | | yours faithfully. | | the governor of | | | | michigan. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +--------------+---------------------+---------------------+-------------------- | dear mayor | believe me, | yours faithfully. | mayor rolph. | rolph: | very truly yours. | | | | | | +--------------+---------------------+---------------------+-------------------- | your | i have the honor to | | | eminence: | remain, | your eminence's | his eminence. | | your eminence's | humble servant. | | | humble servant. | | +==============+=====================+=====================+==================== =how to address important personages= ===============+======================+=======================+================= | | | | if you are | envelope | formal beginning | speaking, you say: | addressed: | of a letter ---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+----------------- roman catholic | your grace | the most reverend | most reverend archbishop | | michael corrigan, | and dear sir: (there is no | | archbishop of | protestant | | new york. | archbishop in | | | the united | | | states) | | | ---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+----------------- bishop | bishop manning | to the right reverend | most reverend (whether roman | | william t. manning, | and dear sir: catholic or | | bishop of new york. | protestant.) | | | | | | ---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+----------------- priest | father or | the rev. | reverend | father duffy | michael duffy. | and dear sir: ---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+----------------- protestant | mr. saintly | the rev. geo. | sir: clergyman | (if he is d.d. or | saintly. (if you do | or | ll.d., you call him | not know his first | my dear sir: | dr. saintly.) | name, write the | | | rev. ... saintly. | | | rather than the | | | rev. mr. saintly) | ---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+----------------- rabbi | rabbi wise | dr. stephen wise, | dear sir: | (if he is d.d. or | or rabbi stephen | | ll.d., he is called | wise, or rev. | | dr. wise) | stephen wise. | ---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+----------------- ambassador | your excellency | his excellency | your | or | the american | excellency: | mr. ambassador | ambassador,[b] | | | american embassy, | | | london. | | | | | | | | | | ---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+----------------- minister | in english he is | the hon. j.d. | sir: is pleni- | usually called "mr. | prince, american | correct but, potentiary | prince," though it | legation, | your | is not incorrect to | copenhagen, or | excellency: | call him "mr. | (more courteously) | is sometimes | minister." the | his excellency, the | used in | title "excellency" | american minister, | courtesy. | is also occasionally | copenhagen, denmark | | used in courtesy, | | | though it does not | | | belong to him. | | | in french he is | | | always called | | | _monsieur le | | | ministre_ | | ---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+----------------- consul | mr. smith | if he has held office | sir: | | as assemblyman or | or | | commissioner, so that | my dear sir: | | he has the right to | | | the title of | | | "honorable" is | | | addressed: | | | the hon. john smith, | | | otherwise: | | | john smith, esq., | | | american consul, | | | rue quelque chose, | | | paris. | ===============+======================+=======================+================= (section ) +===================+=========================+================+================ | | | | correct | informal | | informal | titles in | beginning: | formal close: | close: | introduction: +-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+---------------- | most reverend | i have the honor | same as formal | the most | and dear sir: | to remain, | close. | reverend the | | your humble servant, | | archbishop. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+---------------- | my dear bishop | i have the honor to | faithfully | bishop | manning: | remain, your obedient | yours. | manning. | | servant, or, to | | | | remain, | | | | respectfully yours, | | +-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+---------------- | dear father | i beg to remain, | faithfully | father | duffy: | yours faithfully, | yours. | duffy. |-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+---------------- | dear dr. saintly: | same as above, | faithfully | dr. (or mr.) | (or dear mr. | | yours, or | saintly | saintly if he is | | sincerely | | not a d.d.) | | yours, | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+---------------- | dear dr. wise: | i beg to remain, | yours | rabbi wise. | | yours sincerely, | sincerely, | | | | | | | | | +-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+---------------- | dear mr. | i have the honor to | yours | the | ambassador: | remain, yours | faithfully, | american | | faithfully, or, yours | | ambassador. | | very truly, or, yours | | | | respectfully. or very | | | | formally: i have the | | | | honor to remain, sir, | | | | your obedient servant. | | +-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+---------------- | dear mr. | same as above. | yours | mr. prince, | minister: | | faithfully, | the american | or dear | | | minister, or | mr. prince: | | | merely, the | | | | american | | | | minister as | | | | everyone is | | | | supposed to | | | | know his name | | | | or find it | | | | out. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+---------------- | dear mr. smith: | i beg to remain, | faithfully, | mr. smith | | yours very truly. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +===================+=========================+================+================ [footnote b: although our ambassadors and ministers represent the united states of america, it is customary both in europe and asia to omit the words united states and write to and speak of the american embassy and legation. in addressing a letter to one of our representatives in countries of the western hemisphere, "the united states of america" is always specified by way of courtesy to the americans of south america.] foreign persons of title are not included in the foregoing diagram because an american (unless in the diplomatic service) would be unlikely to address any but personal friends, to whom he would write as to any others. an envelope would be addressed in the language of the person written to: "his grace, the duke of overthere (or merely the duke of overthere), hyde park, london"; "mme. la princess d'acacia, ave. du bois, paris"; "il principe di capri, cusano sul seveso"; "lady alwin, cragmere, scotland," etc. the letter would begin, dear duke of overthere (or dear duke), dear princess, dear countess aix, dear lady alwin, dear sir hubert, etc., and close, "sincerely," "faithfully," or "affectionately," as the case might be. should an american have occasion to write to royalty he would begin: "madam" (or sir), and end: "i have the honor to remain, madam (or sir), your most obedient." ("your most obedient servant" is a signature reserved usually for our own president--or vice-president.) chapter xxviii longer letters the art of general letter-writing in the present day is shrinking until the letter threatens to become a telegram, a telephone message, a post-card. since the events of the day are transmitted in newspapers with far greater accuracy, detail, and dispatch than they could be by the single effort of even voltaire himself, the circulation of general news, which formed the chief reason for letters of the stage-coach and sailing-vessel days, has no part in the correspondence of to-day. taking the contents of an average mail bag as sorted in a united states post-office, about fifty per cent. is probably advertisement or appeal, forty per cent. business, and scarcely ten per cent. personal letters and invitations. of course, love letters are probably as numerous as need be, though the long distance telephone must have lowered the average of these, too. young girls write to each other, no doubt, much as they did in olden times, and letters between young girls and young men flourish to-day like unpulled weeds in a garden where weeds were formerly never allowed to grow. it is the letter from the friend in this city to the friend in that, or from the traveling relative to the relative at home, that is gradually dwindling. as for the letter which younger relatives dutifully used to write--it has gone already with old-fashioned grace of speech and deportment. still, people do write letters in this day and there are some who possess the divinely flexible gift for a fresh turn of phrase, for delightful keenness of observation. it may be, too, that in other days the average writing was no better than the average of to-day. it is naturally the letters of those who had unusual gifts which have been preserved all these years, for the failures of a generation are made to die with it, and only its successes survive. the difference though, between letter-writers of the past and of the present, is that in other days they all tried to write, and to express themselves the very best they knew how--to-day people don't care a bit whether they write well or ill. mental effort is one thing that the younger generation of the "smart world" seems to consider it unreasonable to ask--and just as it is the fashion to let their spines droop until they suggest nothing so much as tenniel's drawing in alice in wonderland of the caterpillar sitting on the toad-stool--so do they let their mental faculties relax, slump and atrophy. to such as these, to whom effort is an insurmountable task, it might be just as well to say frankly: if you have a mind that is entirely bromidic, if you are lacking in humor, all power of observation, and facility for expression, you had best join the ever-growing class of people who frankly confess, "i can't write letters to save my life!" and confine your literary efforts to picture post-cards with the engaging captions "x is my room," or "beautiful weather, wish you were here." it is not at all certain that your friends and family would not rather have frequent post-cards than occasional letters all too obviously displaying the meagerness of their messages in halting orthography. =beginning a letter= for most people the difficulty in letter-writing is in the beginning and the close. once they are started, the middle goes smoothly enough, until they face the difficulty of the end. the direction of the professor of english to "begin at the beginning of what you have to say, and go on until you have finished, and then stop," is very like a celebrated artist's direction for painting: "you simply take a little of the right color paint and put it on the right spot." =how not to begin= even one who "loves the very sight of your handwriting," could not possibly find any pleasure in a letter beginning: "i have been meaning to write you for a long time but haven't had a minute to spare." or: "i suppose you have been thinking me very neglectful, but you know how i hate to write letters." or: "i know i ought to have answered your letter sooner, but i haven't had a thing to write about." the above sentences are written time and again by persons who are utterly unconscious that they are not expressing a friendly or loving thought. if one of your friends were to walk into the room, and you were to receive him stretched out and yawning in an easy chair, no one would have to point out the rudeness of such behavior; yet countless kindly intentioned people begin their letters mentally reclining and yawning in just such a way. =how to begin a letter= suppose you merely change the wording of the above sentences, so that instead of slamming the door in your friend's face, you hold it open: "do you think i have forgotten you entirely? you don't know, dear mary, how many letters i have written you in thought." or: "time and time again i have wanted to write you but each moment that i saved for myself was always interrupted by _something_." one of the frequent difficulties in beginning a letter is that your answer is so long delayed that you begin with an apology, which is always a lame duck. but these examples indicate a way in which even an opening apology may be attractive rather than repellent. if you are going to take the trouble to write a letter, you are doing it because you have at least remembered some one with friendly regard, or you would not be writing at all. you certainly would like to convey the impression that you want to be with your friend in thought for a little while at least--not that she through some malignant force is holding you to a grindstone and forcing you to the task of making hateful schoolroom pot-hooks for her selfish gain. a perfect letter has always the effect of being a light dipping off of the top of a spring. a poor letter suggests digging into the dried ink at the bottom of an ink-well. it is easy to begin a letter if it is in answer to one that has just been received. the news contained in it is fresh and the impulse to reply needs no prodding. nothing can be simpler than to say: "we were all overjoyed to hear from you this morning," or, "your letter was the most welcome thing the postman has brought for ages," or, "it was more than good to have news of you this morning," or, "your letter from capri brought all the allure of italy back to me," or, "you can't imagine, dear mary, how glad i was to see an envelope with your writing this morning." and then you take up the various subjects in mary's letter, which should certainly launch you without difficulty upon topics of your own. =ending a letter= just as the beginning of a letter should give the reader an impression of greeting, so should the end express friendly or affectionate leave-taking. nothing can be worse than to seem to scratch helplessly around in the air for an idea that will effect your escape. "well, i guess i must stop now," "well, i must close," or, "you are probably bored with this long epistle, so i had better close." all of these are as bad as they can be, and suggest the untutored man who stands first on one foot and then on the other, running his finger around the brim of his hat, or the country girl twisting the corner of her apron. =how to end a letter= an intimate letter has no end at all. when you leave the house of a member of your family, you don't have to think up an especial sentence in order to say good-by. leave-taking in a letter is the same: "good-by, dearest, for to-day. devotedly, kate." or: "best love to you all, martin." or: "will write again in a day or two. lovingly, mary." or: "luncheon was announced half a page ago! so good-by, dear mary, for to-day." the close of a less intimate letter, like taking leave of a visitor in your drawing-room, is necessarily more ceremonious. and the "ceremonious close" presents to most people the greatest difficulty in letter-writing. it is really quite simple, if you realize that the aim of the closing paragraph is merely to bring in a personal hyphen between the person writing and the person written to. "the mountains were beautiful at sunset." it is a bad closing sentence because "the mountains" have nothing personal to either of you. but if you can add "--they reminded me of the time we were in colorado together," or "--how different from our wide prairies at home," you have crossed a bridge, as it were. or: "we have had a wonderful trip, but i do miss you all at home, and long to hear from you soon again." or (from one at home): "your closed house makes me very lonely to pass. i do hope you are coming back soon." sometimes an ending falls naturally into a sentence that ends with your signature. "if i could look up now and see you coming into the room, there would be no happier woman in the whole state than your devoted mother." =letters no one cares to read= =letters of calamity= first and foremost in the category of letters that no one can possibly receive with pleasure might be put the "letter of calamity," the letter of gloomy apprehension, the letter filled with petty annoyances. less disturbing to receive but far from enjoyable are such letters as "the blank," the "meandering," the "letter of the capital i," the "plaintive," the "apologetic." there is scarcely any one who has not one or more relatives or friends whose letters belong in one of these classes. even in so personal a matter as the letter to an absent member of one's immediate family, it should be borne in mind, not to write _needlessly_ of misfortune or unhappiness. to hear from those we love how ill or unhappy they are, is to have our distress intensified in direct proportion to the number of miles by which we are separated from them. this last example, however, has nothing in common with the choosing of calamity and gloom as a subject of welcome tidings in ordinary correspondence. the chronic calamity writers seem to wait until the skies are darkest, and then, rushing to their desk, luxuriate in pouring all their troubles and fears of troubles out on paper to their friends. =letters of gloomy apprehension= "my little betty ["my little" adds to the pathos much more than saying merely "betty"] has been feeling miserable for several days. i am worried to death about her, as there are so many sudden cases of typhoid and appendicitis. the doctor says the symptoms are not at all alarming as yet, but doctors see so much of illness and death, they don't seem to appreciate what anxiety means to a mother," etc. another writes: "the times seem to be getting worse and worse. i always said we would have to go through a long night before any chance of daylight. you can mark my words, the night of bad times isn't much more than begun." or, "i have scarcely slept for nights, worrying about whether junior has passed his examinations or not." =letters of petty misfortunes= other perfectly well-meaning friends fancy they are giving pleasure when they write such "news" as: "my cook has been sick for the past ten days," and follow this with a page or two descriptive of her ailments; or, "i have a slight cough. i think i must have caught it yesterday when i went out in the rain without rubbers"; or, "the children have not been doing as well in their lessons this week as last. johnny's arithmetic marks were dreadful and katie got an e in spelling and an f in geography." her husband and her mother would be interested in the children's weekly reports, and her own slight cough, but no one else. how could they be? if the writers of all such letters would merely read over what they have written, and ask themselves if they could find pleasure in receiving messages of like manner and matter, perhaps they might begin to do a little thinking, and break the habit of cataleptic unthinkingness that seemingly descends upon them as soon as they are seated at their desk. =the blank= the writer of the "blank" letter begins fluently with the date and "dear mary," and then sits and chews his penholder or makes little dots and squares and circles on the blotter-utterly unable to attack the cold, forbidding blankness of that first page. mentally, he seems to say: "well, here i am--and now what?" he has not an idea! he can never find anything of sufficient importance to write about. a murder next door, a house burned to the ground, a burglary or an elopement could alone furnish material; and that, too, would be finished off in a brief sentence stating the bare fact. a person whose life is a revolving wheel of routine may have really very little to say, but a letter does not have to be long to be welcome--it can be very good indeed if it has a message that seems to have been spoken. dear lucy: "life here is as dull as ever--duller if anything. just the same old things done in the same old way--not even a fire engine out or a new face in town, but this is to show you that i am thinking of you and longing to hear from you." or: "i wish something really exciting would happen so that i might have something with a little thrill in it to write you, but everything goes on and on--if there were any check in its sameness, i think we'd all land in a heap against the edge of the town." =the meandering letter= as its name implies, the meandering letter is one which dawdles through disconnected subjects, like a trolley car gone down grade off the track, through fences and fields and flower-beds indiscriminately. "mrs. blake's cow died last week, the governor and his wife were on the reception committee; mary selfridge went to stay with her aunt in riverview; i think the new shade called harding blue is perfectly hideous." another that is almost akin to it, runs glibly on, page after page of meaningless repetition and detail. "i thought at first that i would get a gray dress--i think gray is such a pretty color, and i have had so many blue dresses. i can't decide this time whether to get blue or gray. sometimes i think gray is more becoming to me than blue. i think gray looks well on fair-haired people--i don't know whether you would call my hair fair or not? i am certainly not dark, and yet fair hair suggests a sort of straw color. maybe i might be called medium fair. do you think i am light enough to wear gray? maybe blue would be more serviceable. gray certainly looks pretty in the spring, it is so clean and fresh looking. there is a lovely french model at benson's in gray, but i can have it copied for less in blue. maybe it won't be as pretty though as the gray," etc., etc. by the above method of cud-chewing, any subject, clothes, painting the house, children's school, planting a garden, or even the weather, need be limited only by the supply of paper and ink. =the letter of the "capital i"= the letter of the "capital i" is a pompous effusion which strives through pretentiousness to impress its reader with its writer's wealth, position, ability, or whatever possession or attribute is thought to be rated most highly. none but unfortunate dependents or the cringing in spirit would subject themselves to a second letter of this kind by answering the first. the letter which hints at hoped-for benefits is no worse! =the letter of chronic apology= the letter written by a person with an apologetic habit of mind, is different totally from the sometimes necessary letter of genuine apology. the former is as senseless as it is irritating: "it was so good of you to come to my horrid little shanty. [the house and the food she served were both probably better than that of the person she is writing to.] i know you had nothing fit to eat, and i know that everything was just all wrong! of course, everything is always so beautifully done at everything you give, i wonder i have the courage to ask you to dine with me." =the dangerous letter= a pitfall that those of sharp wit have to guard against is the thoughtless tendency toward writing ill-natured things. ridicule is a much more amusing medium for the display of a subject than praise, which is always rather bromidic. the amusing person catches foibles and exploits them, and it is easy to forget that wit flashes all too irresistibly at the expense of other people's feelings, and the brilliant tongue is all too often sharpened to rapier point. admiration for the quickness of a spoken quip, somewhat mitigates its cruelty. the exuberance of the retailer of verbal gossip eliminates the implication of scandals but both quip and gossip become deadly poison when transferred permanently to paper. =permanence of written emotion= for all emotions written words are a bad medium. the light jesting tone that saves a quip from offense can not be expressed; and remarks that if spoken would amuse, can but piqué and even insult their subject. without the interpretation of the voice, gaiety becomes levity, raillery becomes accusation. moreover, words of a passing moment are made to stand forever. anger in a letter carries with it the effect of solidified fury; the words spoken in reproof melt with the breath of the speaker once the cause is forgiven. the written words on the page fix them for eternity. love in a letter endures likewise forever. admonitions from parents to their children may very properly be put on paper--they are meant to endure, and be remembered, but momentary annoyance should never be more than briefly expressed. there is no better way of insuring his letters against being read than for a parent to get into the habit of writing irritable or faultfinding letters to his children. =the letters of two wives= do you ever see a man look through a stack of mail, and notice that suddenly his face lights up as he seizes a letter "from home"? he tears it open eagerly, his mouth up-curving at the corners, as he lingers over every word. you know, without being told, that the wife he had to leave behind puts all the best she can devise and save for him into his life as well as on paper! do you ever see a man go through his mail and see him suddenly droop--as, though a fog had fallen upon his spirits? do you see him reluctantly pick out a letter, start to open it, hesitate and then push it aside? his expression says plainly: "i can't face that just now." then by and by, when his lips have been set in a hard line, he will doggedly open his letter to "see what the trouble is now." if for once there is no trouble, he sighs with relief, relaxes, and starts the next thing he has to do. usually, though, he frowns, looks worried, annoyed, harassed, and you know that every small unpleasantness is punctiliously served to him by one who promised to love and to cherish and who probably thinks she does! =the letter everyone loves to receive= the letter we all love to receive is one that carries so much of the writer's personality that she seems to be sitting beside us, looking at us directly and talking just as she really would, could she have come on a magic carpet, instead of sending her proxy in ink-made characters on mere paper. let us suppose we have received one of those perfect letters from mary, one of those letters that seem almost to have written themselves, so easily do the words flow, so bubbling and effortless is their spontaneity. there is a great deal in the letter about mary, not only about what she has been doing, but what she has been thinking, or perhaps, feeling. and there is a lot about us in the letter--nice things, that make us feel rather pleased about something that we have done, or are likely to do, or that some one has said about us. we know that all things of concern to us are of equal concern to mary, and though there will be nothing of it in actual words, we are made to feel that we are just as secure in our corner of mary's heart as ever we were. and we finish the letter with a very vivid remembrance of mary's sympathy, and a sense of loss in her absence, and a longing for the time when mary herself may again be sitting on the sofa beside us and telling us all the details her letter can not but leave out. =the letter no woman should ever write= the mails carry letters every day that are so many packages of tnt should their contents be exploded by falling into wrong hands. letters that should never have been written are put in evidence in court rooms every day. many can not, under any circumstances, be excused; but often silly girls and foolish women write things that sound quite different from what, they innocently, but stupidly, intended. few persons, except professional writers, have the least idea of the value of words and the effect that they produce, and the thoughtless letters of emotional women and underbred men add sensation to news items in the press almost daily. of course the best advice to a young girl who is impelled to write letters to men, can be put in one word, _don't_! however, if you are a young girl or woman, and are determined to write letters to an especial--or any other--man, no matter how innocent your intention may be, there are some things you must remember--remember so intensely that no situation in life, no circumstances, no temptation, can ever make you forget. they are a few set rules, not of etiquette, but of the laws of self-respect: never send a letter without reading it over and making sure that you have said nothing that can possibly "sound different" from what you intend to say. never so long as you live, write a letter to a man--no matter who he is--that you would be ashamed to see in a newspaper above your signature. remember that every word of writing is immutable evidence for or against you, and words which are thoughtlessly put on paper may exist a hundred years hence. never write anything that can be construed as sentimental. never take a man to task about anything; never ask for explanations; to do so implies too great an intimacy. never put a single clinging tentacle into writing. say nothing ever, that can be construed as demanding, asking, or even being eager for, his attentions! always keep in mind and _never for one instant forget_ that a third person, and that the very one you would most object to, may find and read the letter. one word more: it is not alone "bad form" but laying yourself open to every sort of embarrassment and danger, to "correspond with" a man you slightly know. =proper letters of love or affection= if you are engaged, of course you should write love letters--the most beautiful that you can--but don't write baby-talk and other sillinesses that would make you feel idiotic if the letter were to fall into strange hands. on the other hand, few can find objection to the natural, friendly and even affectionate letter from a young girl to a young man she has been "brought up" with. it is such a letter as she would write to her brother. there is no hint of coquetry or self-consciousness, no word from first to last that might not be shouted aloud before her whole family. her letter may begin "dear" or even "dearest jack." then follows all the "home news" she can think of that might possibly interest him; about the simpsons' dance, tom and pauline's engagement, how many trout bill henderson got at duck brook, how furious mrs. davis was because some distinguished visitor accepted mrs. brown's dinner instead of hers, how the new people who have moved onto the rush farm don't know the first thing about farming, and so on. perhaps there will be one "personal" line such as "we all missed you at the picnic on wednesday--ollie made the flap-jacks and they were too awful! every one groaned: 'if jack were only here!'" or, "we all hope you are coming back in time for the towns' dance. kate has at last inveigled her mother into letting her have an all-black dress which we rather suspect was bought with the especial purpose of impressing you with her advanced age and dignity! mother came in just as i wrote this and says to tell you she has a new recipe for chocolate cake that is even better than her old one, and that you had better have a piece added to your belt before you come home. carrie will write you very soon, she says, and we all send love. "affectionately, "ruth." =the letter no gentleman writes= one of the fundamental rules for the behavior of any man who has the faintest pretension to being a gentleman, is that never by word or gesture must he compromise a woman; he never, therefore, writes a letter that can be construed, even by a lawyer, as damaging to any woman's good name. his letters to an unmarried woman may express all the ardor and devotion that he cares to subscribe to, but there must be no hint of his having received especial favors from her. =don'ts for correspondence= never typewrite an invitation, acceptance, or regret. never typewrite a social note. be chary of underscorings and postscripts. do not write across a page already written on. do not use unmatched paper and envelopes. do not write in pencil--except a note to one of your family written on a train or where ink is unprocurable, or unless you are flat on your back because of illness. never send a letter with a blot on it. never sprinkle french, italian, or any other foreign words through a letter written in english. you do not give an impression of cultivation, but of ignorance of your own language. use a foreign word if it has no english equivalent, not otherwise unless it has become anglicized. if hesitating between two words, always select the one of saxon origin rather than latin. for the best selection of words to use, study the king james version of the bible. chapter xxix the fundamentals of good behavior far more important than any mere dictum of etiquette is the fundamental code of honor, without strict observance of which no man, no matter how "polished," can be considered a gentleman. the honor of a gentleman demands the inviolability of his word, and the incorruptibility of his principles; he is the descendant of the knight, the crusader; he is the defender of the defenseless, and the champion of justice--or he is not a gentleman. =decencies of behavior= a gentleman does not, and a man who aspires to be one must not, ever borrow money from a woman, nor should he, except in unexpected circumstances, borrow money from a man. money borrowed without security is a debt of honor which must be paid without fail and promptly as possible. the debts incurred by a deceased parent, brother, sister, or grown child, are assumed by honorable men and women, as debts of honor. a gentleman never takes advantage of a woman in a business dealing, nor of the poor or the helpless. one who is not well off does not "sponge," but pays his own way to the utmost of his ability. one who is rich does not make a display of his money or his possessions. only a vulgarian talks ceaselessly about how much this or that cost him. a very well-bred man intensely dislikes the mention of money, and never speaks of it (out of business hours) if he can avoid it. a gentleman never discusses his family affairs either in public or with acquaintances, nor does he speak more than casually about his wife. a man is a cad who tells anyone, no matter who, what his wife told him in confidence, or describes what she looks like in her bedroom. to impart details of her beauty is scarcely better than to publish her blemishes; to do either is unspeakable. nor does a gentleman ever criticise the behavior of a wife whose conduct is scandalous. what he says to her in the privacy of their own apartments is no one's affair but his own, but he must never treat her with disrespect before their children, or a servant, or any one. a man of honor never seeks publicly to divorce his wife, no matter what he believes her conduct to have been; but for the protection of his own name, and that of the children, he allows her to get her freedom on other than criminal grounds. no matter who he may be, whether rich, or poor, in high life or low, the man who publicly besmirches his wife's name, besmirches still more his own, and proves that he is not, was not, and never will be, a gentleman. no gentleman goes to a lady's house if he is affected by alcohol. a gentleman seeing a young man who is not entirely himself in the presence of ladies, quietly induces the youth to depart. an older man addicted to the use of too much alcohol, need not be discussed, since he ceases to be asked to the houses of ladies. a gentleman does not lose control of his temper. in fact, in his own self-control under difficult or dangerous circumstances, lies his chief ascendancy over others who impulsively betray every emotion which animates them. exhibitions of anger, fear, hatred, embarrassment, ardor or hilarity, are all bad form in public. and bad form is merely an action which "jars" the sensibilities of others. a gentleman does not show a letter written by a lady, unless perhaps to a very intimate friend if the letter is entirely impersonal and written by some one who is equally the friend of the one to whom it is shown. but the occasions when the letter of a woman may be shown properly by a man are so few that it is safest to make it a rule never to mention a woman's letter. a gentleman does not bow to a lady from a club window; nor according to good form should ladies ever be discussed in a man's club! a man whose social position is self-made is apt to be detected by his continual cataloguing of prominent names. mr. parvenu invariably interlards his conversation with, "when i was dining at the bobo gilding's"; or even "at lucy gilding's," and quite often accentuates, in his ignorance, those of rather second-rate, though conspicuous position. "i was spending last week-end with the richan vulgars," or "my great friends, the gotta crusts." when a so-called gentleman insists on imparting information, interesting only to the social register, _shun him_! the born gentleman avoids the mention of names exactly as he avoids the mention of what things cost; both are an abomination to his soul. a gentleman's manners are an integral part of him and are the same whether in his dressing-room or in a ballroom, whether in talking to mrs. worldly or to the laundress bringing in his clothes. he whose manners are only put on in company is a veneered gentleman, not a real one. a man of breeding does not slap strangers on the back nor so much as lay his finger-tips on a lady. nor does he punctuate his conversation by pushing or nudging or patting people, nor take his conversation out of the drawing-room! notwithstanding the advertisements in the most dignified magazines, a discussion of underwear and toilet articles and their merit or their use, is unpleasant in polite conversation. all thoroughbred people are considerate of the feelings of others no matter what the station of the others may be. thackeray's climber who "licks the boots of those above him and kicks the faces of those below him on the social ladder," is a, very good illustration of what a gentleman is not. a gentleman never takes advantage of another's helplessness or ignorance, and assumes that no gentleman will take advantage of him. =simplicity and unconsciousness of self= these words have been literally sprinkled through the pages of this book, yet it is doubtful if they convey a clear idea of the attributes meant. unconsciousness of self is not so much unselfishness as it is the mental ability to extinguish all thought of one's self--exactly as one turns out the light. simplicity is like it, in that it also has a quality of self-effacement, but it really means a love of the essential and of directness. simple people put no trimmings on their phrases, nor on their manners; but remember, simplicity is not crudeness nor anything like it. on the contrary, simplicity of speech and manners means language in its purest, most limpid form, and manners of such perfection that they do not suggest "manner" at all. =the instincts of a lady= the instincts of a lady are much the same as those of a gentleman. she is equally punctilious about her debts, equally averse to pressing her advantage; especially if her adversary is helpless or poor. as an unhappy wife, her dignity demands that she never show her disapproval of her husband, no matter how publicly he slights or outrages her. if she has been so unfortunate as to have married a man not a gentleman, to draw attention to his behavior would put herself on his level. if it comes actually to the point where she divorces him, she discusses her situation, naturally, with her parents or her brother or whoever are her nearest and wisest relatives, but she shuns publicity and avoids discussing her affairs with any one outside of her immediate family. one can not too strongly censure the unspeakable vulgarity of the woman so unfortunate as to be obliged to go through divorce proceedings, who confides the private details of her life to reporters. =the hall-mark of the climber= nothing so blatantly proclaims a woman climber as the repetition of prominent names, the owners of which she must have struggled to know. otherwise, why so eagerly boast of the achievement? nobody cares whom she knows--nobody that is, but a climber like herself. to those who were born and who live, no matter how quietly, in the security of a perfectly good ledge above and away from the social ladder's rungs, the evidence of one frantically climbing and trying to vaunt her exalted position is merely ludicrous. all thoroughbred women, and men, are considerate of others less fortunately placed, especially of those in their employ. one of the tests by which to distinguish between the woman of breeding and the woman merely of wealth, is to notice the way she speaks to dependents. queen victoria's duchesses, those great ladies of grand manner, were the very ones who, on entering the house of a close friend, said "how do you do, hawkins?" to a butler; and to a sister duchess's maid, "good morning, jenkins." a maryland lady, still living on the estate granted to her family three generations before the revolution, is quite as polite to her friends' servants as to her friends themselves. when you see a woman in silks and sables and diamonds speak to a little errand girl or a footman or a scullery maid as though they were the dirt under her feet, you may be sure of one thing; she hasn't come a very long way from the ground herself. chapter xxx clubs and club etiquette a club, as every one knows, is merely an organization of people--men or women or both--who establish club rooms, in which they meet at specified times for specified purposes, or which they use casually and individually. a club's membership may be limited to a dozen or may include several thousands, and the procedure in joining a club may be easy or difficult, according to the type of club and the standing of the would-be member. membership in many athletic associations may be had by walking in and paying dues; also many country golf-clubs are as free to the public as country inns; but joining a purely social club of rank and exclusiveness is a very different matter. a man to be eligible for membership in such a club must not only be completely a gentleman, but he must have friends among the members who like him enough to be willing to propose him and second him and write letters for him; and furthermore he must be disliked by no one--at least not sufficiently for any member to object seriously to his company. there are two ways of joining a club; by invitation and by making application or having it made for you. to join by invitation means that you are invited when the club is started to be one of the founders or charter members, or if you are a distinguished citizen you may at the invitation of the governors become an honorary member, or in a small or informal club you may become an ordinary member by invitation or suggestion of the governors that you would be welcome. a charter member pays dues, but not always an initiation fee; an honorary member pays neither dues nor initiation, he is really a permanent guest of the club. a life member is one who pays his dues for twenty years or so in a lump sum, and is exempted from dues even if he lives to be a hundred. few clubs have honorary members and none have more than half a dozen, so that this type of membership may as well be disregarded. the ordinary members of a club are either resident, meaning that they live within fifty miles of the club; or non-resident, living beyond that distance and paying less dues but having the same privileges. in certain of the london clubs, one or two new york ones, and the leading club in several other cities, it is not unusual for a boy's name to be put up for membership as soon as he is born. if his name comes up while he is a minor, it is laid aside until after his twenty-first birthday and then put at the head of the list of applicants and voted upon at the next meeting of the governors. in all clubs in which membership is limited and much sought after, the waiting list is sure to be long and a name takes anywhere from five to more than ten years to come up. =how a name is "put up"= since a gentleman is scarcely likely to want to join a club in which the members are not his friends, he tells a member of his family, or an intimate friend, that he would like to join the nearby club, and adds, "do you mind putting me up? i will ask dick to second me." the friend says, "i'll be very glad to," and dick says the same. it is still more likely that the suggestion to join comes from a friend, who says one day, "why don't you join the nearby club? it would be very convenient for you." the other says, "i think i should like to," and the first replies, "let me put you up, and dick will be only too glad to second you." it must be remembered that a gentleman has no right to ask any one who is not really one of his best friends to propose or second him. it is an awkward thing to refuse in the first place, and in the second it involves considerable effort, and on occasion a great deal of annoyance and trouble. for example let us suppose that jim smartlington asks donald lovejoy to propose him and clubwin doe to second him. his name is written in the book kept for the purpose and signed by both proposer and seconder: smartlington, james proposer: donald lovejoy seconder: clubwin doe nothing more is done until the name is posted--meaning that it appears among a list of names put up on the bulletin-board in the club house. it is then the duty of lovejoy and doe each to write a letter of endorsement to the governors of the club, to be read by them when they hold the meeting at which his name comes up for election. example: board of governors, the nearby club. dear sirs: it affords me much pleasure to propose for membership in the nearby club mr. james smartlington. i have known mr. smartlington for many years and consider him qualified in every way for membership. he is a graduate of yalvard, class , rowed on the varsity crew, and served in the th, as st lieut., overseas during the war. he is now in his father's firm (jones, smartlington & co.). yours very truly, donald lovejoy. lovejoy must also at once tell smartlington to ask about six friends who are club-members (but not governors) to write letters endorsing him. furthermore, the candidate can not come up for election unless he knows several of the governors personally, who can vouch for him at the meeting. therefore lovejoy and doe must one or the other take smartlington to several governors (at their offices generally) and personally present him, or very likely they invite two or three of the governors and smartlington to lunch. even under the best of circumstances it is a nuisance for a busy man to have to make appointments at the offices of other busy men. and since it is uncertain which of the governors will be present at any particular meeting, it is necessary to introduce the candidate to a sufficient number so that at least two among those at the meeting will be able to speak for him. in the example we have chosen, clubwin doe, having himself been a governor and knowing most of the present ones very well, has less difficulty in presenting his candidate to them than many other members might have, who, though they have for years belonged to the club, have used it so seldom that they know few, if any, of the governors even by sight. at the leading woman's club of new york, the governors appoint an hour on several afternoons before elections when they are in the visitors' rooms at the club house on purpose to meet the candidates whom their proposers must present. this would certainly seem a more practicable method, to say nothing of its being easier for everyone concerned, than the masculine etiquette which requires that the governors be stalked one by one, to the extreme inconvenience and loss of time and occasionally the embarrassment of every one. as already said, jim smartlington, having unusually popular and well-known sponsors and being also very well liked himself, is elected with little difficulty. but take the case of young breezy: he was put up by two not well-known members, who wrote half-hearted endorsements themselves and did nothing about getting letters from others; they knew none of the governors, and trusted that two who knew breezy slightly "would do." his casual proposer forgot that enemies write letters as well as friends--and that moreover enmity is active where friendship is often passive. two men who disliked his "manner" wrote that they considered him "unsuitable," and as he had no friends strong enough to stand up for him, he was turned down. a gentleman is rarely "black-balled," as such an action could not fail to injure him in the eyes of the world. (the expression "black ball" comes from the custom of voting for a member by putting a white ball in a ballot box, or against him by putting in a black one.) if a candidate is likely to receive a black ball, the governors do not vote on him at all, but inform the proposer that the name of his candidate would better be withdrawn. later on, if the objection to him is disproved or overcome, his name can again be put up. the more popular the candidate, the less work there is for his proposer and seconder. a stranger--if he is not a member of the representative club in his own city--would have need of strong friends to elect him to an exclusive one in another, and an unpopular man has no chance at all. however, in all except very rare instances events run smoothly; the candidate is voted on at a meeting of the board of governors and is elected. a notice is mailed to him next morning, telling him that he has been elected and that his initiation fee and his dues make a total of so much. the candidate thereupon at once draws his check for the amount and mails it. as soon as the secretary has had ample time to receive the check, the new member is free to use the club as much or as little as he cares to. =the new member= the new member usually, but not necessarily, goes for the first time to a club with his proposer or his seconder, or at least an old member; for since in exclusive clubs visitors living in the same city are never given the privilege of the club, none but members can know their way about. let us say he goes for lunch or dinner, at which he is host, and his friend imparts such unwritten information as: "that chair in the window is where old gotrox always sits; don't occupy it when you see him coming in or he will be disagreeable to everybody for a week." or "they always play double stakes at this table, so don't sit at it, unless you _mean_ to." or "that's double coming in now, avoid him at bridge as you would the plague." "the roasts are always good and that waiter is the best in the room," etc. a new member is given--or should ask for--a copy of the club book, which contains besides the list of the members, the constitution and the by-laws or "house rules," which he must study carefully and be sure to obey. =country clubs= country clubs are as a rule less exclusive and less expensive than the representative city clubs, but those like the myopia hunt, the tuxedo, the saddle and cycle, the burlingame, and countless others in between, are many of them more expensive to belong to than any clubs in london or new york, and are precisely the same in matters of membership and management. they are also quite as difficult to be elected to as any of the exclusive clubs in the cities--more so if anything, because they are open to the family and friends of every member, whereas in a man's club in a city his membership gives the privilege of the club to no one but himself personally. the test question always put by the governors at elections is: "are the candidate's friends as well as his family likely to be agreeable to the present members of the club?" if not, he is not admitted. nearly all country clubs have, however, one open door--unknown to city ones. people taking houses in the neighborhood are often granted "season privileges"; meaning that on being proposed by a member and upon paying a season subscription, new householders are accepted as transient guests. in some clubs this season subscription may be indefinitely renewed; in others a man must come up for regular election at the end of three months or six or a year. apart from what may be called the few representative and exclusive country clubs, there are hundreds--more likely thousands--which have very simple requirements for membership. the mere form of having one or two members vouch for a candidate's integrity and good behavior is sufficient. golf clubs, hunting clubs, political or sports clubs have special membership qualifications; all good golf players are as a rule welcomed at all golf clubs; all huntsmen at hunting clubs, and yet the myopia would not think of admitting the best rider ever known if he was not unquestionably a gentleman. but this is unusual. as a rule, the great player is welcomed in any club specially devoted to the sport in which he excels. in many clubs a stranger may be given a three (sometimes it is six) months' transient membership, available in some instances to foreigners only; in others to strangers living beyond a certain distance. a name is proposed and seconded by two members and then voted on by the governors, or the house committee. the best known and most distinguished club of new england has an "annex" in which there are dining-rooms to which ladies as well as gentlemen who are not members are admitted, and this annex plan has since been followed by others elsewhere. all men's clubs have private dining-rooms in which members can give stag dinners, but the representative men's clubs exclude ladies absolutely from ever crossing their thresholds. =women's clubs= excepting that the luxurious women's club has an atmosphere that a man rarely knows how to give to the interior of a house, no matter how architecturally perfect it may be, there is no difference between women's and men's clubs. in every state of the union there are women's clubs of every kind and grade; social, political, sports, professional; some housed in enormous and perfect buildings constructed for them, and some perhaps in only a room or two. when the pioneer women's club of new york was started, a club that aspired to be in the same class as the most important men's club, various governors of the latter were unflatteringly outspoken; women could not possibly run a club as it should be run--it was unthinkable that they should be foolish enough to attempt it! and the husbands and fathers of the founders expected to have to dig down in their pockets to make up the deficit; forgetting entirely that the running of a club is merely the running of a house on a large scale, and that women, not men, are the perfect housekeepers. to-day, no clubs anywhere are more perfect in appointment or better run than the representative women's clubs. in fact, some of the men's clubs have been forced to follow the lead of the foremost of them and to realize that a club in which members merely sit about and look out of the window is a pretty dull place to the type of younger members they most want to attract, and that the combination of the comfort and smartness of a perfectly run private house with every equipment for athletics, is becoming the ideal in club-life and club-building to-day. =good manners in clubs= good manners in clubs are the same as good manners elsewhere--only a little more so. a club is for the pleasure and convenience of many; it is never intended as a stage-setting for a "star" or "clown" or "monologist." there is no place where a person has greater need of restraint and consideration for the reserves of others than in a club. in every club there is a reading-room or library where conversation is not allowed; there are books and easy chairs and good light for reading both by day and night; and it is one of the unbreakable rules not to speak to anybody who is reading--or writing. when two people are sitting by themselves and talking, another should on no account join them unless he is an intimate friend of both. to be a mere acquaintance, or, still less, to have been introduced to one of them, gives no privilege whatever. the fact of being a club member does not (except in a certain few especially informal clubs) grant any one the right to speak to strangers. if a new member happens to find no one in the club whom he knows, he goes about his own affairs. he either sits down and reads or writes, or "looks out of the window," or plays solitaire, or occupies himself as he would if he were alone in a hotel. it is courteous of a governor or habitual member, on noticing a new member or a visitor, especially one who seems to be rather at a loss--to go up and speak to him, but the latter must on no account be the one to speak first. certain new york and boston clubs, as well as those of london, have earned a reputation for snobbishness because the members never speak to those they do not know. through no intent to be disagreeable, but just because it is not customary, new york people do not speak to those they do not know, and it does not occur to them that strangers feel slighted until they themselves are given the same medicine in london; or going elsewhere in america, they appreciate the courtesy and kindness of the south and west. the fundamental rule for behavior in a club is the same as in the drawing-room of a private house. in other words, heels have no place on furniture, ashes belong in ash-receivers, books should not be abused, and all evidence of exercising should be confined to the courts or courses and the locker room. many people who wouldn't think of lolling around the house in unfit attire, come trooping into country clubs with their steaming faces, clammy shirts, and rumpled hair, giving too awful evidence of recent exertion, and present fitness for the bathtub. =the perfect clubman= the perfect clubman is another word for the perfect gentleman. he never allows himself to show irritability to any one, he makes it a point to be courteous to a new member or an old member's guest. he scrupulously observes the rules of the club, he discharges his card debts at the table, he pays his share always, with an instinctive horror of sponging, and lastly, he treats everyone with the same consideration which he expects--and demands--from them. =the informal club= the informal club is often more suggestive of a fraternity than a club, in that every member speaks to every other--always. in one of the best known of this type, the members are artists, authors, scientists, sportsmen and other thinkers and doers. there is a long table set every day for lunch at which the members gather and talk, every one to every one else. there is another dining-room where solitary members may sit by themselves or bring in outsiders if they care to. none but members sit at the "round" table which isn't "round" in the least! the informal club is always a comparatively small one, but the method of electing members varies. in some, it is customary to take the vote of the whole club, in others members are elected by the governors first, and then asked to join. in this case no man may ask to have his name put up. in others the conventional methods are followed. =the visitors in a club= in every club in the united states a member is allowed to "introduce" a stranger (living at least fifty miles away) for a length of time varying with the by-laws of the club. in some clubs guests may be put up for a day only, in others the privilege extends for two weeks or more. many clubs allow each member a certain number of visitors a year; in others visitors are unlimited. but in all city clubs the same guest can not be introduced twice within the year. in country clubs visitors may always be brought in by members in unlimited numbers. as a rule when a member introduces a stranger, he takes him to the club personally, writes his name in the visitors' book, and introduces him to those who may be in the room at the time--very possibly asking another member whom he knows particularly well to "look out" for his guest. if for some reason it is not possible for the stranger's host to take him to the club, he writes to the secretary of the club for a card of introduction. example: secretary, the town club. dear sir: kindly send mr. a.m. strangleigh a card extending the privileges of the club for one week. mr. strangleigh is a resident of london. yours very truly, clubwin doe. the secretary then sends a card to mr. strangleigh: the town club extends its privileges to mr. [hw: strangleigh] from [hw: jan. .] to [hw: jan. .] through the courtesy of mr. [hw: clubwin doe] mr. strangleigh goes to the club by himself. a visitor who has been given the privileges of the club has, during the time of his visit, all the rights of a member excepting that he is not allowed to introduce others to the club, and he can not give a dinner in the private dining-room. strict etiquette also demands, if he wishes to ask several members to dine with him, that he take them to a restaurant rather than into the club dining-room, since the club is their home and he is a stranger in it. he may ask a member whom he knows well to lunch with him in the club rooms, but he must not ask one whom he knows only slightly. as accounts are sent to the member who put him up--unless the guest arranges at the club's office to have his charges rendered to himself, he must be punctilious to ask for his bill upon leaving, and pay it _without question_. putting a man up at a club never means that the member is "host." the visitor's status throughout his stay is founded on the courtesy of the member who introduced him, and he should try to show an equal courtesy to every one about him. he should remember not to obtrude on the privacy of the members he does not know. he has no right to criticise the management, the rules or the organization of the club. he has, in short, no actual rights at all, and he must not forget that he hasn't! =club etiquette in london, paris and new york= "in a very smart london club" (the words quoted are clubwin doe's) "you keep your hat on and glare about! in paris you take your hat off and behave with such courtesy and politeness as seems to you an affectation. in new york you take your hat off and behave as though the rooms were empty; but as though you were being observed through loop-holes in the walls." in new york you are introduced occasionally, but you may never ask to be introduced, and you speak only to those you have been introduced to. in london, you are never introduced to any one, but if the member who has taken you with him joins a group and you all sit down together, you talk as you would after dinner in a gentleman's house. but if you are made a temporary member and meet those you have been talking to when you are alone the next day, you do not speak unless spoken to. in paris, your host punctiliously introduces you to various members and you must just as punctiliously go the next day to their houses and leave your card upon each one! this is customary in the strictly french clubs only. in any one which has members of other nationalities--especially with americans predominating, or seeming to, american customs obtain. in french clubs a visitor can not go to the club unless he is with a member, but there are no restrictions on the number of times he may be taken by the same member or another one. =unbreakable rules= failure to pay one's debts, or behavior unbefitting a gentleman, is cause for expulsion from every club; which is looked upon in much the same light as expulsion from the army. in certain cases expulsion for debt may seem unfair, since one may find himself in unexpectedly straitened circumstances, and the greatest fault or crime could not be more severely dealt with than being expelled from his club; but "club honor"--except under very temporary and mitigating conditions--takes no account of any reason for being "unable" to meet his obligations. he _must_--or he is not considered honorable. if a man can not afford to belong to a club he must resign while he is still "in good standing." if later on he is able to rejoin, his name is put at the head of the waiting list, and if he was considered a desirable member, he is re-elected at the next meeting of the governors. but a man who has been expelled (unless he can show cause why his expulsion was unjust and be re-instated) can never again belong to that, or be elected to any other, club. chapter xxxi games and sports the popularity of bridge whist began a quarter of a century ago with the older people and has increased slowly but steadily until it is scarcely an exaggeration to say that those who do not play bridge, which means "auction," are seldom asked out. and the epidemic is just as widespread among girls and boys as among older people. bridge is always taken seriously; a bumble puppy game won't do at all, even among the youngest players, and other qualifications of character and of etiquette must be observed by every one who would be sought after to "make up a four." =people charming to play bridge with= that no one likes a poor partner--or even a poor opponent--goes without saying. the ideal partner is one who never criticises or even seems to be aware of your mistakes, but on the contrary recognizes a good maneuver on your part, and gives you credit for it whether you win the hand or lose; whereas the inferior player is apt to judge you merely by what you win, and blame your "make" if you "go down," though your play may have been exceptionally good and the loss even occasioned by wrong information which he himself gave you. also, to be continually found fault with makes you play your worst; whereas appreciation of good judgment on your part acts as a tonic and you play seemingly "better than you know how." =people disliked at the bridge table= there is nothing which more quickly reveals the veneered gentleman than the card table, and his veneer melts equally with success or failure. being carried away by the game, he forgets to keep on his company polish, and if he wins, he becomes grasping or overbearing, because of his "skill"; if he loses he sneers at the "luck" of others and seeks to justify himself for the same fault that he criticised a moment before in another. a trick that is annoying to moderately skilled players, is to have an over-confident opponent throw down his hand saying: "the rest of the tricks are mine!" and often succeed in "putting it over," when it is quite possible that they might not be his if the hand were played out. knowing themselves to be poorer players, the others are apt not to question it, but they feel none the less that their "rights" have been taken from them. a rather trying partner is the nervous player, who has no confidence in his own judgment and will invariably pass a good hand in favor of his partner's bid. if, for instance, he has six perfectly good diamonds, he doesn't mention them because, his partner having declared a heart, he thinks to himself "her hearts must be better than my diamonds." but a much more serious failing--and one that is far more universal--is the habit of overbidding. =overbidding= in poker you play alone and can therefore play as carefully or as foolishly as you please, but in bridge your partner has to suffer with you, and you therefore are in honor bound to play the best you know how--and the best you know how is as far as can possibly be from overbidding. remember that your partner, if he is a good player, counts on you for certain definite cards that you announce by your bid to be in your hand, and raises you accordingly. if you have not these cards you not only lose that particular hand, but destroy his confidence in you, and the next time when he has a legitimate raise for you, he will fail to give it. he disregards you entirely because he is afraid of you! you _must study the rules for makes_ and _never under any circumstances give your partner misinformation_; this is the most vital rule there is, and any one who disregards it is detested at the bridge table. no matter how great the temptation to make a gambler's bid, you are in honor bound to refrain. the next essential, if you would be thought "charming," is never to take your partner to task no matter how stupidly he may have "thrown the hand." =don'ts for those who would be sought after= don't hold a "post-mortem" on anybody's delinquencies (unless you are actually teaching). if luck is against you, it will avail nothing to sulk or complain about the "awful" cards you are holding. your partner is suffering just as much in finding you a "poison vine" as you are in being one--and you can scarcely expect your opponents to be sympathetic. you must learn to look perfectly tranquil and cheerful even though you hold nothing but yarboroughs for days on end, and you must on no account try to defend your own bad play--ever. when you have made a play of poor judgment, the best thing you can say is, "i'm very sorry, partner," and let it go at that. always pay close attention to the game. when you are dummy you have certain duties to your partner, and so do not wander around the room until the hand is over. if you don't know what your duties are, read the rules until you know them by heart and then--begin all over again! it is impossible to play any game without a thorough knowledge of the laws that govern it, and you are at fault in making the attempt. don't be offended if your partner takes you out of a bid, and don't take him out for the glory of playing the hand. he is quite as anxious to win the rubber as you are. it is unbelievable how many people regard their partner as a third opponent. =mannerisms at the card table= mannerisms must be avoided like the plague. if there is one thing worse than the horrible "post-mortem," it is the incessant repetition of some jarring habit by one particular player. the most usual and most offensive is that of snapping down a card as played, or bending a "trick" one has taken into a letter "u," or picking it up and trotting it up and down on the table. other pet offenses are drumming on the table with one's fingers, making various clicking, whistling, or humming sounds, massaging one's face, scratching one's chin with the cards, or waving the card one is going to play aloft in the air in smart alec fashion as though shouting, "i know what you are going to lead! and my card is ready!" all mannerisms that attract attention are in the long run equally unpleasant--even unendurable to one's companions. many people whose game is otherwise admirable are rarely asked to play because they have allowed some such silly and annoying habit to take its hold upon them. =the good loser= the good loser makes it an invariable rule never to play for stakes that it will be inconvenient to lose. the neglect of this rule has been responsible for more "bad losers" than anything else, and needless to say a bad loser is about as welcome at a card table as rain at a picnic. of course there _are_ people who can take losses beyond their means with perfect cheerfulness and composure. some few are so imbued with the gambler's instinct that a heavy turn of luck, in either direction, is the salt of life. but the average person is equally embarrassed in winning or losing a stake "that matters" and the only answer is to play for one that doesn't. =golf= golf is a particularly severe strain upon the amiability of the average person's temper, and in no other game, except bridge, is serenity of disposition so essential. no one easily "ruffled" can keep a clear eye on the ball, and exasperation at "lost balls" seemingly bewitches successive ones into disappearing with the completeness and finality of puffs of smoke. in a race or other test of endurance a flare of anger might even help, but in golf it is safe to say that he who loses his temper is pretty sure to lose the game. golf players of course know the rules and observe them, but it quite often happens that idlers, having nothing better to do, walk out over a course and "watch the players." if they know the players well, that is one thing, but they have no right to follow strangers. a player who is nervous is easily put off his game, especially if those watching him are so ill-bred as to make audible remarks. those playing matches of course expect an audience, and erratic and nervous players ought not to go into tournaments--or at least not in two-ball foursomes where they are likely to handicap a partner. in following a match, onlookers must be careful to stand well within bounds and neither talk nor laugh nor do anything that can possibly distract the attention of the players. the rule that you should not appoint yourself mentor holds good in golf as well as in bridge and every other game. unless your advice is asked for, you should not instruct others how to hold their clubs or which ones to use, or how they ought to make the shot. a young woman must on no account expect the man she happens to be playing with to make her presents of golf-balls, or to caddy for her, nor must she allow him to provide her with a caddy. if she can't afford to hire one of her own, she must either carry her own clubs or not play golf. =other games and sports= there are fixed rules for the playing of every game--and for proper conduct in every sport. the details of these rules must be studied in the "books of the game," learned from instructors, or acquired by experience. a small boy perhaps learns to fish or swim by himself, but he is taught by his father or a guide--at all events, some one--how and how not to hold a gun, cast a fly, or ride a horse. but apart from the technique of each sport, or the rules of each game, the etiquette--or more correctly, the basic principles of good sportsmanship, are the same. in no sport or game can any favoritism or evasion of rules be allowed. sport is based upon impersonal and indiscriminating fairness to every one alike, or it is not "sport." and to _be_ a good sportsman, one must be a stoic and never show rancor in defeat, or triumph in victory, or irritation, no matter what annoyance is encountered. one who can not help sulking, or explaining, or protesting when the loser, or exulting when the winner, has no right to take part in games and contests. ="playing the game"= if you would be thought to play the game, meaning if you aspire to be a true sportsman, you must follow the rules of sportsmanship the world over: never lose your temper. play for the sake of playing rather than to win. never stop in the middle of a tennis or golf match and complain of a lame ankle, especially if you are losing. unless it is literally impossible for you to go on, you must stick it out. if you are a novice, don't ask an expert to play with you, especially as your partner. if he should ask you in spite of your shortcomings, maintain the humility proper to a beginner. if you are a woman, don't ape the ways and clothing of men. if you are a man, don't take advantage of your superior strength to set a pace beyond the endurance of a woman opponent. and always give the opponent the benefit of the doubt! nothing is more important to your standing as a sportsman, though it costs you the particular point in question. a true sportsman is always a cheerful loser, a quiet winner, with a very frank appreciation of the admirable traits in others, which he seeks to emulate, and his own shortcomings, which he tries to improve. chapter xxxii etiquette in business and politics a certain rich man whose appointment to a foreign post of importance was about to be ratified, came into the corridor of a washington hotel and stopped to speak with a lady for a few moments. during the whole conversation he kept his hat on his head and a cigar in the corner of his mouth. it happened that the lady was the wife of a prominent senator, and she lost no time in reporting the incident to her husband, who in turn brought the matter to the attention of certain of his colleagues with the result that the appointment did not go through. it is not unlikely that this man thinks "politics played against him," whereas the only factor against him was his exhibition of ill-breeding which proved him unsuitable to represent the dignity of his country. etiquette would not seem to play an important part in business, and yet no man can ever tell when its knowledge may be of advantage, or its lack may turn the scale against him. the man who remains "planted" in his chair when a lady (or an older man) speaks to him, who receives customers in his shirt sleeves, who does not take off his hat when talking with a lady and take his cigar out of his mouth when bowing or when addressing her, can never be sure that he is not preparing a witness for the prosecution. =etiquette in smoking= the above does not mean that a gentleman may never smoke in the presence of ladies--especially in the presence of those who smoke themselves--but a gentleman should not smoke under the following circumstances: when walking on the street with a lady. when lifting his hat or bowing. in a room, an office, or an elevator, when a lady enters. in any short conversation where he is standing near, or talking with a lady. if he is seated himself for a conversation with a lady on a veranda, in an hotel, in a private house, anywhere where "smoking is permitted," he first asks, "do you mind if i smoke?" and if she replies, "not at all" or "do, by all means," it is then proper for him to do so. he should, however, take his cigar, pipe, or cigarette, out of his mouth while he is speaking. one who is very adroit can say a word or two without an unpleasant grimace, but one should not talk with one's mouth either full of food or barricaded with tobacco. in the country, a gentleman may walk with a lady and smoke at the same time--especially a pipe or cigarette. why a cigar is less admissible is hard to determine, unless a pipe somehow belongs to the country. a gentleman in golf or country clothes with a pipe in his mouth and a dog at his heels suggests a picture fitting to the scene; while a cigar seems as out of place as a cutaway coat. a pipe on the street in a city, on the other hand, is less appropriate than a cigar in the country. in any event he will, of course, ask his companion's permission to smoke. =manners and business= if you had a commission to give and you entered a man's office and found him lolling back in a tipped swivel chair, his feet above his head, the ubiquitous cigar in his mouth and his drowsy attention fixed on the sporting page of the newspaper, you would be impressed not so much by his lack of good manners as by his bad business policy, because of the incompetence that his attitude suggests. it is scarcely necessary to ask: would you give an important commission to him who has no apparent intention of doing anything but "take his ease"; or to him who is found occupied at his desk, who gets up with alacrity upon your entrance, and is seemingly "on his toes" mentally as well as actually? or, would you go in preference to a man whose manners resemble those of a bear at the zoo, if you could go to another whose business ability is supplemented by personal charm? and this again is merely an illustration of bad manners and good. =an advantage of polish= one advantage of polish is that one's opponent can never tell what is going on under the glazed surface of highly finished manners, whereas an unfinished surface is all too easily penetrated. and since business encounters are often played like poker hands, it is surely a bad plan to be playing with a mind-reader who can plainly divine his opponent's cards, while his own are unrevealed. manners that can by any possibility be construed as mincing, foppish or effeminate are _not_ recommended; but a gentleman who says "good morning" to his employees and who invariably treats all women as "ladies," does not half so much flatter their vanity as win their respect for himself as a gentleman. again, good manners are, after all, nothing but courteous consideration of other people's interests and feelings. that being true, does it not follow that all customers, superior officers and employees prefer an executive whose good manners imply consideration of his customer's, his company's and his employee's interest as well as merely his own? =perfect polish that is unsuspected= the president of a great industry, whose mastery of etiquette is one of his chief assets, so submerges this asset in other and more apparent qualifications, that every plain man he comes in contact with takes it for granted that he is an equally "plain" man himself. he _is_ plain in so far as he is straightforward in attitude and simple in manner. no red tape is required apparently to penetrate into this president's private office, whereas many "small" men are guarded with pretentiousness that is often an effort to give an impression of "importance." in this big man's employ there is an especial assistant chosen purposely because of his tact and good manners. if an unknown person asks to see mr. president, this deputy is sent out (as from most offices) to find out what the visitor's business is; but instead of being told bluntly the boss doesn't know him and can't see him, the visitor is made to feel how much the president will regret not seeing him. perhaps he is told, "mr. president is in conference just now. i know he would not like you to be kept waiting; can i be of any service to you? i am his junior assistant." if the visitor's business is really with the president, he is admitted to the chief executive's office, since it is the latter's policy to see every one that he can. he has a courteous manner that makes every one feel there is nothing in the day's work half so important as what his visitor has come to see him about! nor is this manner insincere; for whatever time one sees him, he gives his undivided attention. should his time be short, and the moment approach when he is due at an appointment, his secretary enters, a purposely arranged ten minutes ahead of the time necessary for the close of the present interview, and apologetically reminds him, "i'm sorry, mr. president, but your appointment with the 'z' committee is due." mr. president with seeming unconcern, uses up most of the ten minutes, and his lingering close of the conversation gives his visitor the impression that he must have been late at his appointment, and wholly because of the unusual interest felt in his caller. this is neither sincerity nor insincerity, but merely bringing social knowledge into business dealing. to make a pleasant and friendly impression is not alone good manners, but equally good business. the crude man would undoubtedly show his eagerness to be rid of his visitor, and after offending the latter's self-pride because of his inattentive discourtesy, be late for his own appointment! the man of skill saw his visitor for fewer actual minutes, but gave the impression that circumstances over which he had no control forced him unwillingly to close the interview. he not only gained the good will of his visitor, but arrived at his own appointment in plenty of time. to listen attentively when one is spoken to, is merely one of the rules of etiquette. the man who, while some one is talking to him, gazes out of the window or up at the ceiling, who draws squares and circles on the blotter, or is engrossed in his finger-nails or his shoes, may in his own mind be "finessing," or very likely he is bored! in the first case, the chances are he will lose the game; in the second, lots of people are bored, hideously bored, and most often the fault is their own; always they are at fault who show it. =good manners and "good mixers"= when one thinks of a man who is known in politics and business as a "good mixer," one is apt to think of him as a rough diamond rather than a polished one. in picturing a gentleman, a man of high cultivation, one instinctively thinks of one who is somewhat aloof and apart. a good mixer among uncouth men may quite accurately be one who is also uncouth; but the best "mixer" of all is one who adjusts himself equally well to finer as well as to plainer society. education that does not confer flexibility of mind is an obviously limited education; the man of broadest education tunes himself in unison with whomever he happens to be. the more subjects he knows about, the more people he is in sympathy with, and therefore the more customers or associates or constituents he is sure to have. the really big man--it makes little difference whether he was born with a gold spoon in his mouth or no spoon at all--is always one whose interest in people, things, and events is a stimulating influence upon all those he comes in contact with. he who says, "that does not interest me," or "that bores me," defines his own limitations. he who is unable to project sympathy into other problems or classes than his own is an unimportant person though he have the birth of a cecil and the manners of a chesterfield. every gentleman has an inalienable right to his own reserves--that goes without saying--and because he can project sympathy and understanding where and when he chooses, does not for one moment mean that he thereby should break down the walls of his instinctive defenses. it is not the latter type, but the "gentleman limited" who has belittled the name of "gentleman" in the world of work; not so much because he is a gentleman, as because he is not entirely one. he who is every inch a gentleman as well as every inch a man is the highest type in the world to-day, just as he has always been. the do-nothing gentleman is equally looked down upon everywhere. =etiquette in "reverse gear"= etiquette, remember, is merely a collection of forms by which all personal contacts in life are made smooth. the necessity for a "rough" man to become polished so that he may meet men of cultivation on an equal footing, has an equally important reverse. the time has gone by when a gentleman by grace of god, which placed him in a high-born position, can control numbers of other men placed beneath him. every man takes his place to-day according to born position plus the test of his own experience. and just as an unlettered expert in business is only half authoritative to men of high cultivation, so also is the gentleman, no matter how much he knows of latin, greek, history, art and polish of manner, handicapped according to his ignorance on the subject of another's expertness. etiquette, in reverse, prescribes this necessity for complete knowledge in every contact in life. through knowledge alone, does one prove one's right to authority. for instance: a man in a machine ship is working at a lathe. an officer of the company comes into the shop, a gentleman in white collar and good clothes! he stands behind the mechanic and "curses him out" because his work is inefficient. when he turns away, the man at the lathe says, "who was that guy anyway? what business has he to teach me my job?" instead of accepting the criticism, he resents what he considers unwarranted interference by a man in another "class." but supposing instead of standing by and talking about inefficiency, the "gentleman" had said, "get out of there a moment!" and throwing off his coat and rolling up his silk shirt sleeves, he had operated the lathe with a smoothness and rapidity that could only have been acquired through long experience at a bench. the result would be that the next time he came on a tour of inspection that particular man (as well as all those who were witnesses of the former scene) would not only listen to him with respect but without resentment of his "class," because his expertness proved that he had earned his right to good clothes and silk shirts, and to tell those beneath him how work should be done. the same test applies to any branch of experience: a man who knows as much about any "specialty" as an expert does himself, makes the "expert" think at once, "this man is a wonder!" the very fact that the first man is not making the subject _his_ specialty, intensifies the achievement. everything he says after that on subjects of which the second man knows nothing is accepted without question. whenever you know as much as the other man, whether you are socially above, or below him, you are on that subject his equal; when you know more than he does, you have the advantage. =the self-made man and world-made manners= it is not in order to shine in society that grace of manner is an asset; comparatively few people in a community care a rap about "society" anyway! a man of affairs whose life is spent in doing a man's work in a man's way is not apt to be thrilled at the thought of putting on "glad" clothes and going out with his wife to a "pink" tea or a ball. but what many successful men do not realize is that a fundamental knowledge of etiquette is no less an asset in business or public life, or in any other contact with people, than it is in society. just as any expert, whether at a machine bench, an accountant's desk, or at golf, gives an impression of such ease as to make his accomplishment seemingly require no skill, a bungler makes himself and every one watching him uneasy if not actually fearful of his awkwardness. and as inexpertness is quite as irritating in personal as in mechanical bungling, so there is scarcely any one who sooner or later does not feel the need of social expertness. something, some day, will awaken him to the folly of scorning as "soft," men who have accomplished manners; despising as "effeminate," youths who have physical grace; of being contemptuous of the perfect english of the well-bred gentleman; of consoling himself with the thought that his own crudeness is strong, and manly, and american! =the "x" markers= but let "success" come to this same inexpert man--let him be appointed to high office, let him then shuffle from foot to foot, never knowing what to do or say, let him meet open derision or ill-concealed contempt from every educated person brought in contact with him, let opprobrium fall upon his state because its governor is a boor, and let him as such be written of in the editorials of the press and in the archives of history! will he be so pleased with himself then? does any one think of theodore roosevelt as "soft" or "effeminate" because he was one of the greatest masters of etiquette who ever bore the most exalted honor that can be awarded by the people of the united states? washington was completely a gentleman--and so was abraham lincoln. because lincoln's etiquette was self-taught it was no less masterly for that! whether he happened to know a lot of trifling details of pseudo etiquette matters not in the least. awkward he may have been, but the essence of him was courtesy--unfailing courtesy. no "rough, uneducated" man has command of perfect english, and lincoln's english is supreme. one thing that some men of might forget is that lack of polish in its wider aspects is merely lack of education. they themselves look down upon a man who has to make an "x" mark in place of signing his name--but they overlook entirely that to those more highly educated, they are themselves in degree quite as ignorant. =sons of self-made men= and yet, speak to self-made men of the need of the social graces for their sons, and nine out of ten stampede--for all the world as though it were suggested to put them in petticoats. do they think a poor unlettered lout who shambles at the door, who stands unable to speak, who turns his cap in his hands, who sidles into the room, and can't for the life of him get out again, well trained for the battle of life? picture that mr. strong man who thrusts his thumbs into his armholes and sits tipped back in his chair with a cigar in the corner of his mouth and his heels comfortably reposing on his solid mahogany desk. this is not in criticism of his relaxation, it is his own desk and certainly he has a right to put his heels on it if he wants to; likewise thumbs and armholes are his own. it is merely a picture that leads to another: supposing a very great man comes into mr. strong man's office--one whom he may consider a great man, a president perhaps of a big industry or of a railroad, or a senator--and shortly afterwards, strong man's own son comes into the room. would he like to see his son abashed, awkward, spasmodically jerky, like the poor bumpkin who came the other day to ask about removing the ashes, or worse yet, bold and boisterous or cheeky; or would he like that boy of his to come forward with an entire lack of self-consciousness, and as his father introduces him as "my son!" have him put out his hand in frank and easy and yet deferential friendliness? and then saying quickly and quietly whatever it was he came to say, as quickly and quietly make his way out again? would he be sorry that the big man thought, "fine boy that! ability too!" why would he think he had ability? because the ease and dexterity with which he handled the social incident automatically suggests ability to handle other situations! =etiquette and business authority= another point: does the self-made man stop to realize that his authority in business would be even greater than it is if he had the hall-marks, of cultivation? for instance, when he comes in contact with college graduates and other cultivated men, his opinions gain or lose in weight exactly in proportion as he proves to be in their own "class" or below it. a man unconsciously judges the authority of others by the standard of his own expert knowledge. a crude man may be a genius in business management, but in the unspoken opinion of men of education, he is in other contacts inferior to themselves. he is an authority they grant, but in limited lines only. but when a man is met with who combines with business genius the advantage of polished manners and evident cultivation, his opinion on any subject broached at once assumes added weight. doesn't it? chapter xxxiii dress clothes are to us what fur and feathers are to beasts and birds; they not only add to our appearance, but they are our appearance. how we look to others entirely depends upon what we wear and how we wear it; manners and speech are noted afterward, and character last of all. in the community where we live, admirableness of character is the fundamental essential, and in order to achieve a position of importance, personality is also essential; but for the transient impression that we make at home, abroad, everywhere in public, two superficial attributes are alone indispensable: good manners and a pleasing appearance. it is not merely a question of vanity and inclination. in new york, for instance, a woman must dress well, to pay her way. in europe, where the title of duchess serves in lieu of a court train of gold brocade; or in bohemian circles where talent alone may count; or in small communities where people are known for what they really are, appearance is of esthetic rather than essential importance. in the world of smart society--in america at any rate--clothes not only represent our ticket of admission, but our contribution to the effect of a party. what makes a brilliant party? clothes. good clothes. a frumpy party is nothing more nor less than a collection of badly dressed persons. people with all the brains, even all the beauty imaginable, make an assemblage of dowds, unless they are well dressed. not even the most beautiful ballroom in the world, decorated like the garden of eden, could in itself suggest a brilliant entertainment, if the majority of those who filled it were frumps--or worse yet, vulgarians! rather be frumpy than vulgar! much. frumps are often celebrities in disguise--but a person of vulgar appearance is vulgar all through. =the sheep= frumps are not very typical of america, vulgarians are somewhat more numerous, but the greatest number of all are the quietly dressed, unnoticeable men and women who make up the representative backbone in every city; who buy good clothes but not more than they need, and whose ambition is merely to be well enough dressed to fit in with their background, whatever their background may be. less numerous, but far more conspicuous, are the dressed-to-the-minute women who, like sheep exactly, follow every turn of latest fashion blindly and without the slightest sense of distance or direction. as each new season's fashion is defined, all the sheep run and dress themselves each in a replica of the other, their own types and personalities have nothing to do with the case. fashion says: "wear bolster cases tied at the neck and ankle," or "a few wisps of gauze held in place with court plaster," and daughter, mother, grandmother, and all the neighbors wear the same. if emerald green is the fashionable color, all of the yellowest skins will be framed in it. when hobble skirts are the thing, the fattest wabble along, looking for all the world like chandeliers tied up in mosquito netting. if ball dresses are cut to the last limit of daring, the ample billows of the fat will vie blandly with the marvels of anatomy exhibited by the thin. comfort, convenience, becomingness, adaptability, beauty are of no importance. fashion is followed to the letter--therefore they fancy, poor sheep, they are the last word in smartness. those whom the fashion suits _are_ "smart," but they are seldom, if ever, distinguished, because--they are all precisely alike. =the woman who is really chic= the woman who is chic is always a little different. not different in being behind fashion, but always slightly apart from it. "chic" is a borrowed adjective, but there is no english word to take the place of "elegant" which was destroyed utterly by the reporter or practical joker who said "elegant dresses," and yet there is no synonym that will express the individuality of beautiful taste combined with personal dignity and grace which gives to a perfect costume an inimitable air of distinction. _une dame élégante_ is all of that! and mrs. oldname is just such a person. she follows fashion merely so far as is absolutely necessary. she gets the latest model perhaps, but has it adapted to her own type, so that she has just that distinction of appearance that the sheep lack. she has even clung with slight modifications to the "worth" ball dress, and her "wrapped" or fitted bodice has continued to look the smartest in every ballroom in spite of the greek drapery and one-piece meal bag and all the other kaleidoscopic changes of fashion the rest of us have been through. but the average would-be independent who determines to stand her ground, saying, "these new models are preposterous! i shall wear nothing of the sort!" and keeps her word, soon finds herself not at all an example of dignity but an object of derision. =fashion has little in common with beauty= fashion ought to be likened to a tide or epidemic; sometimes one might define it as a sort of hypnotism, seemingly exerted by the gods as a joke. fashion has the power to appear temporarily in the guise of beauty, though it is the antithesis of beauty nearly always. if you doubt it, look at old fashion plates. even the woman of beautiful taste succumbs occasionally to the epidemics of fashion, but she is more immune than most. all women who have any clothes sense whatever know more or less the type of things that are their style--unless they have such an attack of fashionitis as to be irresponsibly delirious. to describe any details of dress, that will not be as "queer" to-morrow as to-day's fashions are bound to be, would seem at the outset pretty much like writing about next year's weather. and yet, there is one unchanging principle which must be followed by every woman, man and child that is well dressed--suitability. nor does suitability mean merely that you must choose clothes suitable to your age and appearance, and that you must get a ball dress for a ball, and a street dress to walk in; it means equally that you must not buy clothes out of proportion to your income, or out of keeping with your surroundings. =disproportionate expenditure in bad taste= about fifteen years ago the extravagance in women's dress reached such a high-water mark that it was not unheard of for a new york woman to spend a third of her husband's income on clothes. all women of fashion bought clothes when it would not have occurred to them to buy furniture--when it would have seemed preposterous to buy a piece of jewelry--but clothes, clothes, and more clothes, each more hand-embroidered than the last, until just as it seemed that no dress was fit to be seen if it hadn't a month or two of some one's time embroidered on it, the work on clothes subsided, until now we are at the other extreme; no work is put on them at all. at least, clothes to-day are much more sensible, and let us hope the sense will be lasting. the war did at least make people realize that luxuries and trimmings could go too far. ten years ago the american woman who lived in a little cottage, who walked when she went out or took the street car, wore the same clothes exactly that mrs. gilding wore in her victoria, or trailed over a ming rug. the french woman has always been (and the american woman of taste is now) too great an artist to sit in a little room with its cotton-print slip covers, muslin curtains, and geranium pots on the window ledge, in anything strikingly elaborate and expensive. charming as her dress may be in line and cut and color, she keeps it (no matter how intrinsically good it may be) in harmony with her geranium pots and her chintz. on the other hand, clothes that are too plain can be equally out of proportion. last winter, for instance, a committee of ladies met in what might safely be called the handsomest house in new york, in a room that would fit perfectly in the palace of versailles, filled with treasures such as those of the wallace collection. the hostess presided in a black serge golf skirt, a business woman's white shirt-waist, and stout walking boots, her hair brushed flat and tidily back and fastened as though for riding, her face and hands redolent of soap. no powder, not a nail manicured. had she been a girl earning her living, she could not have been more suitably dressed, but her millions and her palace background demand that her clothes be at least moderately in keeping. one does not have to be dowdy as an alternative to being too richly dressed, and to define differences between clothes that are notable because of their distinction and smartness, and clothes that are merely conspicuous and therefore vulgar, is a very elusive point. however, there are certain rules that seem pretty well established. =vulgar clothes= vulgar clothes are those which, no matter what the fashion of the moment may be, are always too elaborate for the occasion; too exaggerated in style, or have accessories out of proportion. people of uncultivated taste are apt to fancy distortions; to exaggerate rather than modify the prevailing fashions. for example: a conspicuous evidence of bad style that has persisted through numberless changes in fashion, is the over-dressed and over-trimmed head. the woman of uncultivated taste has no more sense of moderation than the queen of the cannibals. she will elaborate her hair-dressing to start with (this is all right, if elaboration really suits her type) and then she will "decorate" it with everything in the way of millinery and jewelry that she can lay her hands on. or, in the daytime, she fancies equally over-weighted hats, and rich-looking fur coats and the latest edition in the most conspicuous possible footwear. and she much prefers wearing rings to gloves. maybe she thinks they do not go together? she despises sensible clothing; she also despises plain fabrics and untrimmed models. she also cares little (apparently) for staying at home, since she is perpetually seen at restaurants and at every public entertainment. the food she orders is rich, the appearance she makes is rich; in fact, to see her often is like nothing so much as being forced to eat a large amount of butter-plain. beau brummel's remark that when one attracted too much notice, one could be sure of being not well-dressed but over-dressed, has for a hundred years been the comfort of the dowdy. it is, of course, very often true, but not invariably. a person may be stared at for any one of many reasons. it depends very much on the stare. a woman may be stared at because she is indiscreet, or because she looks like a left-over member of the circus, or because she is enchanting to look at. if you are much stared at, what _sort_ of a stare do you usually meet? is it bold, or mocking, or is it merely that people look at you wistfully? if the first, change your manner; if the second, wear more conventional clothes; if the third, you may be left as you are. but be sure of your diagnosis of this last. =extravagance not vulgarity= ostentation is always vulgar but extravagance is not necessarily vulgar--not by any means. extravagance can become dishonest if carried beyond one's income. nearly everything that is beautiful or valuable is an extravagance--for most of us. always to wear new gloves is an extravagant item for one with a small allowance--but scarcely vulgar! a laundry bill can be extravagant, flowers in one's city house, a piece of beautiful furniture, a good tapestry, each is an extravagance to an income that can not easily afford the expenditure. to one sufficient to buy the tapestry, the flowers are not an extravagance at all. to buy quantities of things that are not even used after they are bought is sheer wastefulness, and to buy everything that tempts you, whether you can afford to pay for it or not, is, if you can not afford it, verging on the actually dishonest. =dresses for dinners and balls= supposing, since clothes suitable to the occasion are the first requisite of good taste, we take up a few details that are apart from fashion. a dinner dress really means every sort of low, or half low evening dress. a formal dinner dress, like a ball dress, is always low-necked and without sleeves, and is the handsomest type of evening dress that there is. a ball dress may be exquisite in detail but it is often merely effective. the perfect ball dress is one purposely designed with a skirt that is becoming when dancing. a long wrapped type of dress would make diana herself look like a toy monkey-on-a-stick, but might be dignified and beautiful at a dinner. a dinner dress differs from a ball dress in little except that it is not necessarily designed for freedom of movement. hair ornaments always look well at a ball but are not especially appropriate (unless universally in fashion) on other occasions. a lady in a ball dress with nothing added to the head, looks a little like being hatless in the street. this sounds like a contradiction of the criticism of the vulgarian. but because a tiara is beautiful at a ball, or a spray of feathers, or a high comb, or another ornament, does not mean that all of these should be put on together and worn in a restaurant; which is just what the vulgarian would do. whether, to wear a head-dress, however, depends not alone upon fashion but upon the individual. if the type of hair ornament at the moment in fashion is becoming, wear it, especially to balls and in a box at the opera. but if it is not becoming, don't. ladies of fashion, by the way, do not have their hair especially dressed for formal occasions. each wears her hair a certain way, and it is put up every morning just as carefully as for a ball. the only time it is arranged differently is for riding. ah informal dinner dress is merely a modified formal one. it is low in front and high in the back, with long or elbow sleeves--or perhaps it is dutch neck and no sleeves. when trains are in fashion, all older women should wear them. fashion or no fashion, no woman who has passed forty looks really well in a cut-off evening dress. an effect of train, however, can very adequately be produced with any arrangement or trimming that extends upon the floor. the informal dinner dress is worn to the theater, the restaurant (of high class), the concert and the opera. informal dinner dresses are worn in the boxes at the opera on ordinary nights, such as when no especially great star is to sing, and when one is not going on to a ball afterward, but a ball dress is never inappropriate, especially without head-dress. on gala nights, ball dresses are worn in the boxes and head-dresses and as many jewels as one chooses--or has. =the tea-gown= every one knows that a tea-gown is a hybrid between a wrapper and a ball dress. it has always a train and usually long flowing sleeves; is made of rather gorgeous materials and goes on easily, and its chief use is not for wear at the tea-table so much as for dinner alone with one's family. it can, however, very properly be put on for tea, and if one is dining at home, kept on for dinner. otherwise a lady is apt to take tea in whatever dress she had on for luncheon, and dress after tea for dinner. one does not go out to dine in a tea-gown except in the house of a member of one's family or a most intimate friend. one would wear a tea-gown in one's own house in receiving a guest to whose house one would wear a dinner dress. =when in doubt= there is one rule that is fairly safe to follow: when in doubt, wear the plainer dress. it is always better far to be under-dressed than over-dressed. if you don't know whether to put on a ball dress or a dinner dress, wear the dinner dress. or, whether to wear cloth or brocade to a luncheon, wear the cloth. =on the street= your tea-gowns, since they are never worn in public, can literally be as bizarre as you please, and if you are driving in a closed motor, you can also wear an "original" type of dress. but in walking on the street,--if you care to be taken for a well-bred person--never wear anything that is exaggerated. if skirts are short, don't wear them two inches shorter than any one else's; if they are long, don't go down the street dragging a train and sweeping the dirt up on the under-flouncings. (let us hope _that_ fashion never comes back!) don't wear too much jewelry; it is in bad taste in the first place, and in the second, is a temptation to a thief. and don't under any circumstances, distort your figure into a grotesque shape. =country clothes= nothing so marks the "person who doesn't know" as inappropriate choice of clothes. to wear elaborate clothes out of doors in the country, is quite as out of place as to parade "sports" clothes on the streets in town. it is safe to say that "sport" clothes are appropriate country clothes--especially for all young people. elderly ladies, needless to say, should not don "sporting eccentricities" nor wear sweaters to lunch parties; but sensible country clothes, such as have for many decades been worn in england, of homespun or serge or jersey cloth or whatever has replaced these materials, are certainly more appropriate to walk in than a town costume--even for a lady of seventy! young people going to the country for the day wear sports clothes; which if seen early in the morning in town and again late in the afternoon, merely show you have been to the country. but town clothes in the country proclaim your ignorance of fitness. even for a lunch party at golden hall or great estates, every one who is young wears smart country clothes. =shoes and slippers= sport shoes are naturally adapted to the sport for which they are intended. high-heeled slippers do not go with any country clothes, except organdie or muslins or other distinctly feminine "summer" dresses. elaborate afternoon dresses of "painted" chiffons, embroidered mulls, etc., are seen only at weddings, lawn parties, or at watering-places abroad. =a suggestion to those who mind sunburn= no advice is intended for those who have a skin that either does not burn at all, or turns a beautiful smooth hawaiian brown; but a woman whose creamy complexion bursts into freckles, as violent as they are hideous, at the first touch of the sun need no longer stay perpetually indoors in daytime, or venture out only when swathed like a turk, if she knows the virtue in orange as a color that defies the sun's rays. a thin veil of red-orange is more effective than a thick one of blue or black. orange shirt-waists do not sound very conservative, but they are mercifully conserving to arms sensitive to sunburn. young mrs. gilding, whose skin is as perishable as it is lovely, always wears orange on the golf course. a skirt of burnt-orange serge of homespun or linen, and shirt-waists of orange linen or crepe de chine. a hat with a brim and a harem-veil (pinned across her nose under her eyes) of orange marquisette,--which is easier to breathe through than chiffon--allows her to play golf or tennis or to motor or even go out in a sailboat and keep her skin without a blemish. constance style, who also has a skin that the sun destroys, wears orange playing tennis, but for bathing wears a high-neck and long-sleeved bathing suit and "makes her face up" (also the backs of her hands) with theatrical grease paint that has a good deal of yellow in it, and flesh color ordinary powder on top. the grease paint withstands hot sun and water, but it is messy. the alternative, however, is a choice between complexion or bathing, as it is otherwise prohibitive for the "sun afflicted" to have both. =riding clothes= the distorted circus-mirror clothes seen on men who know no better, are not a bit worse than the riding clothes seen on actresses in our best theaters and moving pictures--who ought to know better. nothing looks worse than riding clothes made and worn badly, and nothing looks smarter than they when well made and well put on. a riding habit, no matter what the fashion happens to be, is like a uniform, in that it must be made and worn according to regulations. it must above all be meticulously trig and compact. nothing must be sticking out a thousandth part of an inch that can be flattened in. a riding habit is the counterpart of an officer's uniform; it is not worn so as to make the wearer look pretty! a woman to look well in a habit must be smart or she is a sight! and nothing contributes so much to the "sights" we see at present as the attempt to look pretty instead of looking correct. the criticism is not intended for the woman who lives far off in the open country and jumps on a horse in whatever she happens to have on, but for those who dress "for looks" and ride in the parks of our cities, or walk on the stage and before the camera, in scenes meant to represent smart society! to repeat, therefore, the young woman who wants to look pretty should confine her exercise to dancing. she can also hold a parasol over her head and sit in a canoe--or she can be pretty how and where she will, so long as it is not on a horse in the park or hunting-field. (to mention hunting-field is superfluous; the woman who can ride well enough to follow the hounds is too good a sportswoman, too great a lover of good form to be ignorant of the proper outline necessary to smartness of appearance in the saddle.) in smartest english society it is not considered best form for a young girl to ride astride in the hunting-field or in the park after she is grown. a high-born english girl rides astride as a child, but as soon as she is old enough to be presented at court, she appears at a meet or in the "row" in a lady's habit, trigly perfect in fit, and on a side-saddle. in america this is an extreme opinion, and it is only among the most fashionable that a young girl having all her life ridden in a man's saddle, finds the world a joyless place and parents cruel when she is no longer allowed to ride like a boy. but she becomes, in spite of her protests, "another who looks divine on a horse." and you can look divine too, if you choose! on second thoughts the adjective must be qualified. no one looks divine on a horse who is not thin as a shingle. but since diet produces a shingle shape and every one strong-minded (or vain) enough, can diet, you need only care enough to "count your calories" and be as slim as you please. next, the best habit possible. and best habits are expensive, and there are no "second best." a habit is good or it is bad. whatever the present fashion may be, have your habit utterly conventional. don't wear checks or have slant pockets, or eccentric cuffs or lapels; don't have the waist pinched in. choose a plain dark or "dust" color. a night blue that has a few white hairs in the mixture does not show dust as much as a solid dark color, and a medium weight close material holds its shape better than a light loose weave. you may wear a single white carnation or a few violets in your buttonhole--but no other trimming. keep the idea of perfect clothes for men in mind, get nothing that the smartest man would not wear, and you can't go wrong. get boots like those of a man, low-heeled and with a straight line from heel to back of top. don't have the tops wider than absolutely necessary not to bind, and don't have them curved or fancy in shape. be sure that there is no elbow sticking out like a horse's hock at the back of the boot, and don't have a corner on the inside edge of the sole. and don't try to wear a small size! =when you put your habit on= first, hair: never mind if you look like mme. recamier with your hair fluffed and like a skinned rabbit with it tight back, tight, flat back it must go. brush it smooth as you can, braid it or coil it about level with the top of your ears and wind it in a door mat, not a knob in the back. if you have a great quantity of hair, you should take all the inner part of it, coil it on top of your head so it will go under your hat out of the way. then take the outer edge of it and braid or wind it as flat as possible. a large bun at the back of the head is almost as bad as hair drawn over the ears at the side. if you have short hairs likely to blow, you must wear a hunting hair net. and if it is bobbed, it must be drawn back into a silk riding net and made to look trim. correct riding clothes are not fashion but form! whether coat skirts are long or short, full or plain, and waists wasp-like or square, the above admonitions have held for many decades, and are likely to hold for many more. gloves must be of heavy leather and at least two sizes bigger than those ordinarily worn. a hat must fit the head and its shape must be conventional. never wear a hat that would be incorrect on a man, and don't wear it on the back of your head or over your nose. wear your stock as tight as you comfortably can, not _too_ tight! tie it smartly so as to make it flat and neat, and anchor whatever you wear so securely that nothing can possibly come loose. and if you want to see a living example of perfection in riding clothes, go to the next horse-show where miss belle beach is riding and look at her! =what clothes to take for a week-end= unless fashion turns itself upside down (which it is, of course, perfectly capable of doing), elaborate clothes, except evening ones, are entirely useless, even in newport. we have all of us abandoned paris fashions for country wear in favor of those of england. the valenciennes insertions and trailing chiffons of some years ago, still seen at watering-places in france, have been entirely superseded by country clothes. in going to any fashionable house in the country, you should take a dinner dress for each evening, with stockings and slippers to match. you need a country dress for each day, or if the weather is uncertain, a thick one and two thin ones, with a long coat, and a dress suitable for church. this one can perfectly well be a country dress, but not a "sports" one. if you are not too young and are going to stay in an informal house where you will probably be the only guest, and where it is likely no one will be asked in, a tea-gown or two should be taken. if you are going especially for a ball, but not given by your hostess, needless to say, you take a ball dress and an evening wrap. in the autumn or winter, a fur coat will do double service for coat and wrap. do not take a big trunk full of all the things you don't need. don't take sports clothes for all occasions if you are not a sportswoman. but if you do ride, or play tennis or golf, or skate or swim, be sure to take your own clothes and _don't_ borrow other people's. there are plenty of ingeniously arranged week-end trunks, very compact in size, that have a hat compartment, holding from two to six hats, and plenty of room for a half a dozen dresses and their accessories. =when the income is limited= no one can dress well on nothing a year; that must be granted at the outset. but a woman who has talent, taste, and ingenuity can be suitably and charmingly dressed on little a year, especially at present. first of all, to mind wearing a dress many times because it indicates a small bank account, is to exhibit a false notion of the values in life. any one who thinks well or ill of her, in accordance with her income, can not be too quickly got rid of! but worthwhile people _are_ influenced in her disfavor when she has clothes in number and quality out of proportion to her known financial situation. it is tiresome everlastingly to wear black, but nothing is so serviceable, nothing so unrecognizable, nothing looks so well on every occasion. a very striking dress can not be worn many times without making others as well as its owner feel bored at the sight of it. "here comes the zebra" or "the cockatoo!" is inevitable if a dress of stripes or flamboyant color is worn often. she who must wear one dress through a season and have it perhaps made over the next, would better choose black or cream color. or perhaps a certain color suits her, and this fact makes it possible for her habitually to wear it without impressing others with her lack of clothes. but whether her background be black or cerise it should invariably blend with her whole wardrobe, so that all accessories can be made to do double or quadruple service. supposing you are a young woman with more beauty than wealth! let us also suppose you have three evening dresses, a blue, a pink and a green. at the moment you can wear flesh-colored slippers and stockings with everything, which rather weakens the argument--however, a blue fan does not look well with a pink or a green dress, nor do the other combinations. supposing, however, you had instead a cream-colored dress, a flesh-colored, and an orchid one. flesh-colored slippers look much better with cream and orchid than with either green or blue, at any rate! a watermelon pink fan is lovely in night-light with all three; so is a cream one. or perhaps by changing both fan and slippers, a different effect is produced, since the colors of your clothes are background colors. but nothing really can compare with the utility and smartness of black. take a black tulle dress, made in the simplest possible way; worn plain, it is a simple dinner dress. it can have a lace slip to go over it, and make another dress. with a jet harness--meaning merely trimming that can be added at will--it is still another dress. or it can have a tunic of silver or of gold trimming; and fans, flowers and slippers in various colors, such as watermelon or emerald, change it again. in fact, a black tulle can be changed almost as easily as though done with a magician's wand. to choose daytime clothes that go with the same hats, shoes, parasols, wrist-bags, and gloves, is equally important. a snuff-colored dress and a gray one need entirely different accessories. russet shoes, chamois gloves, and sand-colored hat go also with henna, raspberry, reds, etc.; but gray must have gray or white shoes, gloves, and hat, which also go with blues, greens and violets. =don't get too many clothes= choose the clothes which you must have, carefully, and if you must cut down, cut down on elaborate ones. there is scarcely anywhere that you can not, fittingly go in plain clothes. very few, if any, people _need_ fancy things; all people need plain ones. a very beautiful chicago woman who is always perfectly dressed for every occasion, worked out the cost of her own clothes this way: on a sheet of paper, thumb-tacked on the inside of her closet door, she put a complete typewritten list of her dresses and hats, and the cost of each. every time she put on a dress she made a pencil mark. by and by when a dress was discarded, she divided the cost of it by the number of times it had been worn. in this way she found out accurately which were her cheapest and which her most expensive clothes. when getting new ones she has the advantage of very valuable information, since she avoids the dress that is never put on, which is a bigger handicap for the medium-sized allowance than many women realize. =what to wear in a restaurant= restaurant dress depends upon the restaurant and the city. because women in new york wear low-necked dresses and no hats, does not mean that those who live in new town should do the same, if it is not new town's custom. but you must _never_ wear an evening dress and a hat! and _never_ wear a day dress without one. if in the city where you live, people wear day clothes in the evening, you can only very slightly differ from them. it is never good form to be elaborately dressed in a public place, except in a box at the opera or at a charity ball. =at a wedding, a garden party or afternoon tea= these are the occasions when elaborate day dresses are appropriate. but if you have very few clothes, you can perfectly well wear any sort of day dress that may be in fashion. a coat and skirt is not appropriate, since a skirt and shirt-waist is and always has been a utility combination. unless, of course, the waist is of a color to match the skirt so that it has the appearance of a dress. you need, however, seldom worry about your appearance because you are not as "dressed" as the others; the time to worry is when you are more dressed than any one else. for a garden-party a country dress is quite all right; though if you have a very elaborate summer dress, this is the only time you can wear it! no one has to be told what to wear to church. in small country churches, at the seashore, people go to church in country clothes; otherwise, as every one knows, one puts on "town" clothes, and gloves. at a formal luncheon in town, one sees every sort of dress from velvet to tailor-made. certain ladies, older ones usually, who like elaborate clothes, wear them. but younger people are usually dressed in worsted materials or silks that are dull in finish, and that, although they may be embroidered and very expensive, give an effect of simplicity. one should always wear a simpler dress in one's own house than one wears in going to the house of another. =a few general remarks= the fault of bad taste is usually in over-dressing. quality not effect, is the standard to seek for. machine-made passementerie on top of conspicuous but sleazy material is always shoddy. cut and fit are the two items of greatest importance in women's clothes, as well as in men's. but fashion changes too rapidly to make value of material always wise expenditure for one of slender purse. better usually have two dresses, each cut and made in the whim of the moment, than one which must be worn after the whim has become a freak. in men's clothes the opposite rule should be followed since good style in men's clothes is unchanging. to buy things at sales is very much like buying things at an auction; if you really know what you want and something about values, you can often do marvellously well; but if you are easily bewildered and know little of values, you are apt to spend your good money on trash. a woman of small means must either be (or learn to be) discriminatingly careful, or she would better have her clothes made at home, or if she is of "model" type, buy them ready-made. the ready-to-wear clothes in the misses' department are growing every year better looking; unfortunately and for some inexplicable reason, the usual women's department does not compare in good taste in selection of models with the former, and it is unusual to find a dress that a lady of fashion would choose except among the imported models, for which store prices are as a rule higher than those asked by the greatest dressmakers. evening clothes are still usually unbuyable by the over-fastidious, except for a certain flapper type (and an undistinguished one at that!), and the ultra-smart woman is still obliged to go to the private importers for her débutante daughter's ball-dresses as well as her own--or else into her own sewing-room. =fashion and fat= for years the thin, even the scrawny, have had everything their own way. the woman who is fat, or even plump, has a rather hopeless problem unless fashion goes to turkey for its next inspiration, which is so unlikely it is almost possible! two things the fat woman should avoid: big patterns and the stiff tailor-made. fat women look better in feminine clothes that follow in the wake, never in the advance, of modified fashion. fat women should never wear elaborate clothes or clothes in light colors or heavily feathered hats. the tendency of fat is to take away from one's gracility; therefore, any one inclined to be fat must be ultra conservative--in order to counteract the effect. very tight clothes make fat people look fatter and thin people thinner. satin is a bad material, since high lights are too shimmeringly accentuated. heavy ankles, needless to say, should never be clothed in light stockings and dark shoes; long, pointed slippers accentuate a thick ankle, and so does a short skirt that has a straight hem. a "ragged" edge is most flattering. dress, stockings and slippers to match are unavoidable in evening dress, but when possible a thick ankle should have a dark stocking--or at least a slipper to match the stocking. people should select colors that go with their skin. and elderly women should not wear grass green, or royal blue, or purple, or any hard color that needs a faultless complexion. swarthy skin always looks better in colors that have red or yellow in them. a very sallow person in pale blue or apple green looks like a well-developed case of jaundice. pink and orchid are often very becoming to older women; and pale blue or yellow to those with fair skin. because a woman is no longer young is no reason why she should wear perpetual black--unless she is fat. =clothes for traveling in europe= ideal traveling clothes are those which do not wrinkle or show rain spots; and to find which these are it is necessary to take a sample of each material, sprinkle it with water, and twist it to see how much abuse it will stand. every woman knows what she likes best, and what she considers suitable. two alternating traveling dresses at least will be necessary, and two or three semi-evening dresses to put on for dinner. one very simple half-dinner dress of black, that has a combination of trimmings such as described earlier in this chapter, is ideally useful. tourists do not put on evening clothes except in very fashionable centers, such as london, paris, monte carlo or deauville, and then only if staying at an ultra fashionable hotel. to be over-dressed is always in bad taste. so that unless you are going to visit or make several-day stops the one black evening dress suggested would answer every possible purpose. if you intend staying for a long time in one place, you take all of your season's clothes; and if you are going to visit in england, or to stay anywhere in the country, you will need country clothes, but not on ordinary touring. for motoring, space is precious, and clothes should be chosen with the object of packing into small dimensions. motoring in europe is cold. a very warm, long wrap is necessary. an old fur one is much the best, and a small, close hat that does not blow. =clothes and paris= it is something like this: you have been hypnotized before, and you vow you won't be again! you make up your mind that you are going to get a black dress and a dark blue--and nothing else. you enter the lower reception hall and mount the bronze balustraded stairs half way when already mlle. marie is aware of your approach. she greets you not only as though you are the only customer she has ever had, but as though your coming has saved--just saved in time--the prestige of the house. she tells you breathlessly that you are just in time to see the parade of models; she puts you where you may have an uninterrupted view. she then begins her greetings all over again by asking not alone after all the members of your family and an extraordinarily long list of friends, but makes a solicitous inquiry after each dress that she has ever sold you. "did madame like her white velvet?" she coos. "was it not most useful? was not her black lace charming? and the bisque cloth--surely madame had found great satisfaction in wearing the bisque cloth?" but your ears are as stone to her blandishments! as a traveling suit, bisque-colored cloth had not been serviceable! black lace with a cerise velvet under petticoat might be effective at armenonville, but it had seemed queer, to say the least, at the tennis match in august. no, you are at last immune from any of those sudden attacks of new fashion fever that result in loss of judgment. you open your little book and consult your list. "i should like," you say, "a navy blue serge trimmed with black braid or satin or something like that; a black crêpe de chine absolutely plain; i really need nothing else." you do not look at mile. marie's crestfallen face, you watch the procession of models. but the old spell works. besides zebra stripes and gold shot with cerise and purple, you think an emerald green charmeuse is really a perfect substitute for the plain black crêpe de chine you had in mind. you show that you are hypnotized by remarking absently, "it is the color of the grass." instantly, mlle. marie, the most skillful _vendeuse_ in paris, becomes radiant. "listen, madame," she says to you in that insinuating, confidential, yet humbly ingratiating manner of hers. "let me explain, madame,--the idea of dress this year is altogether idyllic! never has there been such charming return to nature. the great originator of our house has taken his suggestion--but yes! from the little animals of the fields and woods--from nature herself! our dresses this year are intended to follow the example of all the little animals dressed to match their backgrounds. is not that thought exquisite? is not that delicious? is an emerald lizard conspicuous in the tropics? is a zebra even seen in patches of sun and shade? and in the snow, think of all the little animals who put on white coats in winter! obviously white is the color intended for winter wear. and for the spring, green. emerald green assuredly. it is as madame herself said, the color of the grass. the emerald charmeuse on a lawn in summer would be a poem of harmony. the cerise for afternoons at sunset; this orange shading into coral embroidery to wear beside the fire. the dark blue chiffon embroidered in silver is for night. all the colors that madame at first found so bright--they are but the colors of a summer flower garden. what would madame wear in a flower garden? black crêpe de chine? assuredly not! see this shell pink chiffon, how lovely it would look under trees of apple blossoms. blue serge! oh, what an escape. and now if madame will permit me to suggest?--the green, but assuredly! and the orange and coral, and the pink chiffon garden dress, and the zebra, for travelling, and the blue and silver...." however, to be serious, people do go to paris and buy their clothes--beautiful clothes! of course they do; especially those who go every year. but the woman who goes abroad perhaps every four or five years is apt to be deficient in a trans-atlantic sense. "match backgrounds, like charming little animals?" never! oh, a very big never again! and yet the next time shall you not find it a temptation to go just out of curiosity to find out what the newest artfully enticing little tune of the pied pipers of paris will be! chapter xxxiv the clothes of a gentleman it would seem that some of our great clothing establishments, with an eye to our polyglot ancestry, have attempted to incorporate some feature of every european national costume into a "harmonious" whole, and have thus given us that abiding horror, the freak american suit. you will see it everywhere, on broadway of every city and main street of every town, on the boardwalks and beaches of coast resorts, and even in remote farming villages. it comes up to hit you in the face year after year in all its amazing variations: waist-line under the arm pits, "trick" little belts, what-nots in the cuffs; trousers so narrow you fear they will burst before your eyes, pockets placed in every position, buttons clustered together in a tight little row or reduced to one. and the worst of it is, few of our younger men know any better until they go abroad and find their wardrobe a subject for jest and derision. if you would dress like a gentleman, you must do one of two things; either study the subject of a gentleman's wardrobe until you are competent to pick out good suits from freaks and direct your misguided tailor, or, at least until your perceptions are trained, go to an english one. this latter method is the easiest, and, by all odds, the safest. it is not anglomania but plain common sense to admit that, just as the rue de la paix in paris is the fountainhead of fashions for women, bond street in london is the home of irreproachable clothes for men. and yet, curiously enough, just as a woman shopping in paris can buy frightful clothes--or the most beautiful; a man can in america buy the worst clothes in the world--and the best. the ordinary run of english clothes may not be especially good, but they are, on the other hand, never bad; whereas american freak clothes are distortions like the reflections seen in the convex and concave mirrors of the amusement parks. but not even the leading tailors of bond street can excel the supremely good american tailor--whose clothes however are identical in every particular with those of london, and their right to be called "best" is for greater perfection of workmanship and fit. this last is a dangerous phrase; "fit" means perfect set and line, not plaster tightness. however, let us suppose that you are either young, or at least fairly young; that you have unquestioned social position, and that you are going to get yourself an entire wardrobe. let us also suppose your money is not unlimited, so that it may also be seen where you may not, or may if necessary, economize. =formal evening clothes= your full dress is the last thing to economize on. it must be perfect in fit, cut and material, and this means a first-rate tailor. it must be made of a dull-faced worsted, either black or night blue, on no account of broadcloth. aside from satin facing and collar, which can have lapels or be cut shawl-shaped, and wide braid on the trousers, it must have no trimming whatever. avoid satin or velvet cuffs, moiré neck ribbons and fancy coat buttons as you would the plague. wear a plain white linen waistcoat, not one of cream colored silk, or figured or even black brocade. have all your linen faultlessly clean--always--and your tie of plain white lawn, tied so it will not only stay in place but look as though nothing short of a backward somersault could disarrange it. your handkerchief must be white; gloves (at opera or ball) white; flower in buttonhole (if any) white. if you are a normal size, you can in america buy inexpensive shirts, and white waistcoats that are above reproach, but if you are abnormally tall or otherwise an "out size" so that everything has to be "made to order," you will have to pay anywhere from double to four times as much for each article you put on. when you go out on the street, wear an english silk hat, not one of the taper crowned variety popular in the "movies." and wear it on your head, not on the back of your neck. have your overcoat of plain black or dark blue material, for you must wear an overcoat with full dress even in summer. use a plain white or black and white muffler. colored ones are impossible. wear white buckskin gloves if you can afford them; otherwise gray or khaki doeskin, and leave them in your overcoat pocket. your stick should be of plain malacca or other wood, with either a crooked or straight handle. the only ornamentation allowable is a plain silver or gold band, or top; but perfectly plain is best form. and lastly, wear patent leather pumps, shoes or ties, and plain black silk socks, and leave your rubbers--if you must wear them, in the coat room. =the tuxedo= the tuxedo, which is the essential evening dress of a gentleman, is simply the english dinner coat. it was first introduced in this country at the tuxedo club to provide something less formal than the swallow-tail, and the name has clung ever since. to a man who can not afford to get two suits of evening clothes, the tuxedo is of greater importance. it is worn every evening and nearly everywhere, whereas the tail coat is necessary only at balls, formal dinners, and in a box at the opera. tuxedo clothes are made of the same materials and differ from full dress ones in only three particulars: the cut of the coat, the braid on the trousers, and the use of a black tie instead of a white one. the dinner coat has no tails and is cut like a sack suit except that it is held closed in front by one button at the waist line. (a full dress coat, naturally, hangs open.) the lapels are satin faced, and the collar left in cloth, or if it is shawl-shaped the whole collar is of satin. the trousers are identical with full dress ones except that braid, if used at all, should be narrow. "cuffed" trousers are not good form, nor should a dinner coat be double-breasted. fancy ties are bad form. choose a plain black silk or satin one. wear a white waistcoat if you can afford the strain on your laundry bill, otherwise a plain black one. by no means wear a gray one nor a gray tie. the smartest hat for town wear is an opera, but a straw or felt which is proper in the country, is not out of place in town. otherwise, in the street the accessories are the same as those already given under the previous heading. =the house suit= the house suit is an extravagance that may be avoided, and an "old" tuxedo suit worn instead. a gentleman is always supposed to change his clothes for dinner, whether he is going out or dining at home alone or with his family, and for this latter occasion some inspired person evolved the house, or lounge, suit, which is simply a dinner coat and trousers cut somewhat looser than ordinary evening ones, made of an all-silk or silk and wool fabric in some dark color, and lined with either satin or silk. nothing more comfortable--or luxurious--could be devised for sitting in a deep easy-chair after dinner, in a reclining position that is ruinous to best evening clothes. its purpose is really to save wear on evening clothes, and to avoid some of their discomfort also, because they can not be given hard or careless usage and long survive. a house suit is distinctly what the name implies, and is not an appropriate garment to wear out for dinner or to receive any but intimate guests in at home. the accessories are a pleated shirt, with turndown stiff collar, and black bow tie, or even an unstarched shirt with collar attached (white of course). the coat is made with two buttons instead of one, because no waistcoat is worn with it. =formal afternoon dress= formal afternoon dress consists of a black cutaway coat with white piqué or black cloth waistcoat, and gray-and-black striped trousers. the coat may be bound with braid, or, even in better taste, plain. a satin-faced lapel is not conservative on a cutaway, but it is the correct facing for the more formal (and elderly) frock coat. either a cutaway or a frock coat is always accompanied by a silk hat, and best worn with plain black waistcoat and a black bow tie or a black and white four-in-hand tie. a gray silk ascot worn with the frock coat is supposed to be the correct wedding garment of the bride's father. (for details of clothes worn by groom and ushers at a wedding, see chapter on weddings.) shoes may be patent leather, although black calfskin are at present the fashion, either with or without spats. if with spats, be sure that they fit close; nothing is worse than a wrinkled spat or one that sticks out over the instep like the opened bill of a duck! though gray cutaway suits and gray top hats have always been worn to the races in england, they do not seem suitable here, as races in america are not such full-dress occasions as in france and england. but at a spring wedding or other formal occasions a sand-colored double-breasted linen waistcoat with spats and bow tie to match looks very well with a black cutaway and almost black trousers, on a man who is young. =the business suit= the business suit or three-piece sack is made or marred by its cut alone. it is supposed to be an every-day inconspicuous garment and should be. a few rules to follow are: don't choose striking patterns of materials; suitable woolen stuffs come in endless variety, and any which look plain at a short distance are "safe," though they may show a mixture of colors or pattern when viewed closely. don't get too light a blue, too bright a green, or anything suggesting a horse blanket. at the present moment trousers are made with a cuff; sleeves are not. lapels are moderately small. padded shoulders are an abomination. peg-topped trousers equally bad. if you must be eccentric, save your efforts for the next fancy dress ball, where you may wear what you please, but in your business clothing be reasonable. above everything, don't wear white socks, and don't cover yourself with chains, fobs, scarf pins, lodge emblems, etc., and don't wear "horsey" shirts and neckties. you will only make a bad impression on every one you meet. the clothes of a gentleman are always conservative; and it is safe to avoid everything than can possibly come under the heading of "novelty." =jewelry= in your jewelry let diamonds be conspicuous by their absence. nothing is more vulgar than a display of "ice" on a man's shirt front, or on his fingers. there is a good deal of jewelry that a gentleman may be allowed to wear, but it must be chosen with discrimination. pearl shirt-studs (real ones) are correct for full dress only, and not to be worn with a dinner coat unless they are so small as to be entirely inconspicuous. otherwise you may wear enamel studs (that look like white linen) or black onyx with a rim of platinum, or with a very inconspicuous pattern in diamond chips, but so tiny that they can not be told from a threadlike design in platinum--or others equally moderate. waistcoat buttons, studs and cuff links, worn in sets, is an american custom that is permissible. both waistcoat buttons and cuff links may be jewelled and valuable, but they must not have big precious stones or be conspicuous. a watch chain should be very thin and a man's ring is usually a seal ring of plain gold or a dark stone. if a man wears a jewel at all it should be sunk into a plain "gypsy hoop" setting that has no ornamentation, and worn on his "little," not his third, finger. =in the country= gay-colored socks and ties are quite appropriate with flannels or golf tweeds. only in your riding clothes you must again be conservative. if you can get boots built on english lines, wear them; otherwise wear leggings. and remember that all leather must be real leather in the first place and polished until its surface is like glass. have your breeches fit you. the coat is less important, in fact, any odd coat will do. your legs are the cynosure of attention in riding. most men in the country wear knickerbockers with golf stockings, with a sack or a belted or a semi-belted coat, and in any variety of homespuns or tweeds or rough worsted materials. or they wear long trousered flannels. coats are of the polo or ulster variety. for golf or tennis many men wear sweater coats. shirts are of cheviot or silk or flannel, all with soft collars attached and to match. the main thing is to dress appropriately. if you are going to play golf, wear golf clothes; if tennis, wear flannels. do not wear a yachting cap ashore unless you are living on board a yacht. white woolen socks are correct with white buckskin shoes in the country, but not in town. if some semi-formal occasion comes up, such as a country tea, the time-worn conservative blue coat with white flannel trousers is perennially good. =other hints= the well-dressed man is always a paradox. he must look as though he gave his clothes no thought and as though literally they grew on him like a dog's fur, and yet he must be perfectly groomed. he must be close-shaved and have his hair cut and his nails in good order (not too polished). his linen must always be immaculate, his clothes "in press," his shoes perfectly "done." his brown shoes must shine like old mahogany, and his white buckskin must be whitened and polished like a prize bull terrier at a bench show. ties and socks and handkerchief may go together, but too perfect a match betrays an effort for "effect" which is always bad. the well-dressed man never wears the same suit or the same pair of shoes two days running. he may have only two suits, but he wears them alternately; if he has four suits he should wear each every fourth day. the longer time they have "to recover" their shape, the better. =what to wear on various occasions= the appropriate clothes for various occasions are given below. if ever in doubt what to wear, the best rule is to err on the side of informality. thus, if you are not sure whether to put on your dress suit or your tuxedo, wear the latter. =full dress= . at the opera. . at an evening wedding. . at a dinner to which the invitations are worded in the third person. . at a ball, or formal evening entertainment. . at certain state functions on the continent of europe in broad daylight. =tuxedo= . at the theater. . at most dinners. . at informal parties. . dining at home. . dining in a restaurant. =a cutaway or frock coat with striped trousers= . at a noon or afternoon wedding. . on sunday for church (in the city). . at any formal daytime function. . in england to business. . as usher at a wedding. . as pall-bearer. =business suits= . all informal daytime occasions. . traveling. . the coat of a blue suit with white flannel or duck trousers for a lunch, or to church, in the country. . a blue or black sack suit will do in place of a cutaway at a wedding, but not if you are the groom or an usher. =country clothes= . _only_ in the country. to wear odd tweed coats and flannel trousers in town is not only inappropriate, but bad taste. chapter xxxv the kindergarten of etiquette in the houses of the well-to-do where the nursery is in charge of a woman of refinement who is competent to teach little children proper behavior, they are never allowed to come to table in the dining-room until they have learned at least the elements of good manners. but whether in a big house of this description, or in a small house where perhaps the mother alone must be the teacher, children can scarcely be too young to be taught the rudiments of etiquette, nor can the teaching be too patiently or too conscientiously carried out. training a child is exactly like training a puppy; a little heedless inattention and it is out if hand immediately; the great thing is not to let it acquire bad habits that must afterward be broken. any child can be taught to be beautifully behaved with no effort greater than quiet patience and perseverance, whereas to break bad habits once they are acquired is a herculean task. =elementary table manners= since a very little child can not hold a spoon properly, and as neatness is the first requisite in table-manners, it should be allowed to hold its spoon as it might take hold of a bar in front of it, back of the hand up, thumb closed over fist. the pusher (a small flat piece of silver at right angles to a handle) is held in the same way, in the left hand. also in the first eating lessons, a baby must be allowed to put a spoon in its mouth, pointed end foremost. its first lessons must be to take small mouthfuls, to eat very slowly, to spill nothing, to keep the mouth shut while chewing and not smear its face over. in drinking, a child should use both hands to hold a mug or glass until its hand is big enough so it can easily hold a glass in one. when it can eat without spilling anything or smearing its lips, and drink without making grease "moons" on its mug or tumbler (by always wiping its mouth before drinking), it may be allowed to come to table in the dining-room as a treat, for sunday lunch or breakfast. or if it has been taught by its mother at table, she can relax her attention somewhat from its progress. girls are usually daintier and more easily taught than boys, but most children will behave badly at table if left to their own devices. even though they may commit no serious offenses, such as making a mess of their food or themselves, or talking with their mouths full, all children love to crumb bread, flop this way and that in their chairs, knock spoons and forks together, dawdle over their food, feed animals--if any are allowed in the room--or become restless and noisy. once graduated to the dining-room, any reversion to such tactics must be firmly reprehended, and the child should understand that continued offense means a return to the nursery. but before company it is best to say as little as possible, since too much nagging in the presence of strangers lessens a child's incentive to good behavior before them. if it refuses to behave nicely, much the best thing to do is to say nothing, but get up and quietly lead it from the table back to the nursery. it is not only bad for the child but annoying to a guest to continue instructions before "company," and the child learns much more quickly to be well-behaved if it understands that good behavior is the price of admission to grown-up society. a word or two such as, "don't lean on the table, darling," or "pay attention to what you are doing, dear," should suffice. but a child that is noisy, that reaches out to help itself to candy or cake, that interrupts the conversation, that eats untidily has been allowed to leave the nursery before it has been properly graduated. table manners must, of course, proceed slowly in exactly the same way that any other lessons proceed in school. having learned when a baby to use the nursery implements of spoon and pusher, the child, when it is a little older, discards them for the fork, spoon and knife. =the proper use of the fork= as soon, therefore, as his hand is dexterous enough, the child must be taught to hold his fork, no longer gripped baby-fashion in his fist, but much as a pencil is held in writing; only the fingers are placed nearer the "top" than the "point," the thumb and two first fingers are closed around the handle two-thirds of the way up the shank, and the food is taken up shovel-wise on the turned-up prongs. at first his little fingers will hold his fork stiffly, but as he grows older his fingers will become more flexible just as they will in holding his pencil. if he finds it hard work to shovel his food, he can, for a while, continue to use his nursery pusher. by and by the pusher is changed for a small piece of bread, which is held in his left hand and between thumb and first two fingers, and against which the fork shovels up such elusive articles as corn, peas, poached egg, etc. =the spoon= in using the spoon, he holds it in his right hand like the fork. in eating cereal or dessert, he may be allowed to dip the bowl of the spoon toward him and eat from the end, but in eating soup he must dip his spoon away from him--turning the outer rim of the bowl down as he does so--fill the bowl not more than three-quarters full and sip it, without noise, out of the side (not the end) of the bowl. the reason why the bowl must not be filled full is because it is impossible to lift a brimming spoonful of liquid to his mouth without spilling some, or in the case of porridge without filling his mouth too full. while still very young he may be taught never to leave the spoon in a cup while drinking out of it, but after stirring the cocoa, or whatever it is, to lay the spoon in the saucer. a very ugly table habit, which seems to be an impulse among all children, is to pile a great quantity of food on a fork and then lick or bite it off piecemeal. this must on no account be permitted. it is perfectly correct, however, to sip a little at a time, of hot liquid from a spoon. in taking any liquid either from a spoon or drinking vessel, no noise must ever be made. [illustration: "in eating soup the child must dip his spoon away from him--turning the outer rim of the spoon down as he does so...." [page .]] [illustration: "in being taught to use knife and fork together, the child should at first cut only something very easy, such as a slice of chicken...." [page .]] [illustration: "having cut off a mouthful, he thrusts the fork through it, with prongs pointed downward and conveys it to his mouth with his left hand. he must learn to cut off and eat one mouthful at a time." [page .]] [illustration: "when no knife is being used, the fork is held in the right hand, whether used 'prongs down' to impale the meat, or 'prongs up' to lift vegetables." [page .]] [illustration: "bread should always be broken into small pieces with the fingers before being buttered." [page .]] [illustration: "when he has finished eating, the child should lay his knife and fork close together, side by side, with handles toward the right side of his plate...." [page .]] =the fork and knife together= in being taught to use his knife, the child should at first cut only something very easy, such as a slice of chicken; he should not attempt anything with bones or gristle, or anything that is tough. in his left hand is put his fork with the prongs downward, held near the top of the handle. his index finger is placed on the shank so that it points to the prongs, and is supported at the side by his thumb. his other fingers close underneath and hold the handle tight. he must never be allowed to hold his fork emigrant fashion, perpendicularly clutched in the clenched fist, and to saw across the food at its base with his knife. =the knife= the knife is held in his right hand exactly as the fork is held in his left, firmly and at the end of the handle, with the index finger pointing down the back of the blade. in cutting he should learn not to scrape the back of the fork prongs with the cutting edge of the knife. having cut off a mouthful, he thrusts the fork through it, with prongs pointed downward and conveys it to his mouth with his left hand. he must learn to cut off and eat one mouthful at a time. it is unnecessary to add that the knife must _never_ be put in his mouth; nor is it good form to use the knife unnecessarily. soft foods, like croquettes, hash on toast, all eggs and vegetables, should be cut or merely broken apart with the edge of the fork held like the knife, after which the fork is turned in the hand to first (or shovel) position. the knife must never be used to scoop baked potato out of the skin, or to butter potato. a fork must be used for all manipulations of vegetables; butter for baked potatoes taken on the tip of the fork shovel fashion, laid on the potato, and then pressed down and mixed with the prongs held points curved up. when no knife is being used, the fork is held in the right hand, whether used "prongs down" to impale the meat or "prongs up" to lift vegetables. to pile mashed potato and other vegetables on the convex side of the fork on top of the meat for two or more inches of its length, is a disgusting habit dear to school boys, and one that is more easily prevented than corrected. in fact, taking a big mouthful (next to smearing his face and chewing with mouth open) is the worst offense at table. when he has finished eating, he should lay his knife and fork close together, side by side, with handles toward the right side of his plate, the handles projecting an inch or two beyond the rim of the plate. they must be placed far enough on the plate so that there is no danger of their over-balancing on to the table or floor when removed at the end of the course. =other table matters= the distance from the table at which it is best to sit, is a matter of personal comfort. a child should not be allowed to be so close that his elbows are bent like a grasshopper's, nor so far back that food is apt to be spilled in transit from plate to mouth. children like to drink very long and rapidly, all in one breath, until they are pink around the eyes, and are literally gasping. they also love to put their whole hands in their finger-bowls and wiggle their fingers. a baby of two, or at least by the time he is three, should be taught to dip the tips of his fingers in the finger-bowl, without playing, draw the fingers of the right hand across his mouth, and then wipe his lips and fingers on the apron of his bib. no small child can be expected to use a napkin instead of a bib. no matter how nicely behaved he may be, there is always danger of his spilling something, some time. soft boiled egg is hideously difficult to eat without ever getting a drop of it down the front, and it is much easier to supply him with a clean bib for the next meal than to change his dress for the next moment. very little children usually have "hot water plates" that are specially made like a double plate with hot water space between, on which the meat is cut up and the vegetables "fixed" in the pantry, and brought to the children before other people at the table are served. not only because it is hard for them to be made to wait, and have their attention attracted by food not for them, but because they take so long to eat. as soon as they are old enough to eat everything on the table, they are served, not last, but in the regular rotation at table in which they come. =table tricks that must be corrected= to sit up straight and keep their hands in their laps when not occupied with eating, is very hard for a child, but should be insisted upon in order to prevent a careless attitude that all too readily degenerates into flopping this way and that, and into fingering whatever is in reach. he must not be allowed to warm his hands on his plate, or drum on the table, or screw his napkin into a rope or make marks on the tablecloth. if he shows talent as an artist, give him pencils or modeling wax in his playroom, but do not let him bite his slice of bread into the silhouette of an animal, or model figures in soft bread at the table. and do not allow him to construct a tent out of two forks, or an automobile chassis out of tumblers and knives. food and table implements are not playthings, nor is the dining-room a playground. =talking at table= when older people are present at table and a child wants to say something, he must be taught to stop eating momentarily and look at his mother, who at the first pause in the conversation will say, "what is it, dear?" and the child then has his say. if he wants merely to launch forth on a long subject of his own conversation, his mother says, "not now, darling, we will talk about that by and by," or "don't you see that mother is talking to aunt mary?" when children are at table alone with their mother, they should not only be allowed to talk but unconsciously trained in table conversation as well as in table manners. children are all more or less little monkeys in that they imitate everything they see. if their mother treats them exactly as she does her visitors they in turn play "visitor" to perfection. nothing hurts the feelings of children more than not being allowed to behave like grown persons when they think they are able. to be helped, to be fed, to have their food cut up, all have a stultifying effect upon their development as soon as they have become expert enough to attempt these services for themselves. children should be taught from the time they are little not to talk about what they like and don't like. a child who is not allowed to say anything but "no, thank you," at home, will not mortify his mother in public by screaming, "i hate steak, i won't eat potato, i want ice cream!" =quietness at table= older children should not be allowed to jerk out their chairs, to flop down sideways, to flick their napkins by one corner, to reach out for something, or begin to eat nuts, fruit or other table decorations. a child as well as a grown person should sit down quietly in the center of his chair and draw it up to the table (if there is no one to push it in for him) by holding the seat in either hand while momentarily lifting himself on his feet. he must not "jump" or "rock" his chair into place at the table. in getting up from the table, again he must push his chair back quietly, using his hands on either side of the chair seat, and _not_ by holding on to the table edge and giving himself, chair and all, a sudden shove! there should never be a sound made by the pushing in or out of chairs at table. =the spoiled child= the bad manners of american children, which unfortunately are supposed by foreigners to be typical, are nearly always the result of their being given "star" parts by over-fond but equally over-foolish mothers. it is only necessary to bring to mind the most irritating and objectionable child one knows, and the chances are that its mother continually throws the spotlight on it by talking to it, and about it, and by calling attention to its looks or its cunning ways or even, possibly, its naughtiness. it is humanly natural to make a fuss over little children, particularly if they are pretty, and it takes quite super-human control for a young mother not to "show off" her treasure, but to say instead, "please do not pay any attention to her." some children, who are especially free from self-consciousness, stand "stardom" better than others who are more readily spoiled; but in nine cases out of ten, the old-fashioned method that assigned children to inconspicuous places in the background and decreed they might be seen but not heard, produced men and women of far greater charm than the modern method of encouraging public self-expression from infancy upward. =chief virtue: obedience= no young human being, any more than a young dog, has the least claim to attractiveness unless it is trained to manners and obedience. the child that whines, interrupts, fusses, fidgets, and does nothing that it is told to do, has not the least power of attraction for any one, even though it may have the features of an angel and be dressed like a picture. another that may have no claim to beauty whatever, but that is sweet and nicely behaved, exerts charm over every one. when possible, a child should be taken away the instant it becomes disobedient. it soon learns that it can not "stay with mother" unless it is well-behaved. this means that it learns self-control in babyhood. not only must children obey, but they must never be allowed to "show off" or become pert, or to contradict or to answer back; and after having been told "no," they must never be allowed by persistent nagging to win "yes." a child that loses its temper, that teases, that is petulant and disobedient, and a nuisance to everybody, is merely a victim, poor little thing, of parents who have been too incompetent or negligent to train it to obedience. moreover, that same child when grown will be the first to resent and blame the mother's mistaken "spoiling" and lack of good sense. =fair play= nothing appeals to children more than justice, and they should be taught in the nursery to "play fair" in games, to respect each other's property and rights, to give credit to others, and not to take too much credit to themselves. every child must be taught never to draw attention to the meagre possessions of another child whose parents are not as well off as her own. a purse-proud, overbearing child who says to a playmate, "my clothes were all made in paris, and my doll is ever so much handsomer than yours," or "is that real lace on your collar?" is not impressing her young friend with her grandeur and discrimination but with her disagreeableness and rudeness. a boy who brags about what he has, and boasts of what he can do, is only less objectionable because other boys are sure to "take it out of him" promptly and thoroughly! nor should a bright, observing child be encouraged to pick out other people's failings, or to tell her mother how inferior other children are compared with herself. if she wins a race or a medal or is praised, she naturally tells her mother, and her mother naturally rejoices with her, and it is proper that she should; but a wise mother directs her child's mental attitude to appreciate the fact that arrogance, selfishness and conceit can win no place worth having in the world. =children at afternoon tea= a custom in many fashionable houses is to allow children as soon as they are old enough, to come into the drawing-room or library at tea-time, as nothing gives them a better opportunity to learn how to behave in company. little boys are always taught to bow to visitors; little girls to curtsy. small boys are taught to place the individual tables, hand plates and tea, and pass sandwiches and cakes. if there are no boys, girls perform this office; very often they both do. when everybody has been helped, the children are perhaps allowed a piece of cake, which they put on a tea-plate, and sit down, and eat nicely. but as the tea-hour is very near their supper time, they are often allowed nothing, and after making themselves useful, go out of the room again. if many people are present and the children are not spoken to, they leave the room unobtrusively and quietly. if only one or two are present, especially those whom the children know well, they shake hands, and say "good-by," and walk (not run) out of the room. this is one of the ways in which well-bred people become used from childhood to instinctive good manners. unless they are spoken to, they would not think of speaking or making themselves noticed in any way. very little children who have not reached the age of "discretion," which may be placed at about five, possibly not until six, usually go in the drawing-room at tea-time only when near relatives or intimate friends of the family are there. needless to say that they are always washed and dressed. some children wear special afternoon clothes, but usually the clean clothes put on at tea-time go on again the next morning, except the thin socks and house slippers which are reserved for the "evening hour" of their day. =children's parties= a small girl (or boy) giving a party should receive with her mother at the door and greet all her friends as they come in. if it is her birthday and other children bring her gifts, she must say "thank you" politely. on no account must she be allowed to tell a child "i hate dolls," if a friend has brought her one. she must learn at an early age that as hostess she must think of her guests rather than herself, and not want the best toys in the grab-bag or scream because another child gets the prize that is offered in a contest. if beaten in a game, a little girl, no less than her brothers, must never cry, or complain that the contest is "not fair" when she loses. she must try to help her guests have a good time, and not insist on playing the game she likes instead of those which the other children suggest. when she herself goes to a party, she must say, "how do you do," when she enters the room, and curtsy to the lady who receives. a boy makes a bow. they should have equally good manners as when at home, and not try to grab more than their share of favors or toys. when it is time to go home, they must say, "good-by, i had a very good time," or, "good-by, thank you ever so much." =the child's reply= if the hostess says, "good-by, give my love to your mother!" the child answers, "yes, mrs. smith." in all monosyllabic replies a child must not say "yes" or "no" or "what?" a boy in answering a gentleman still uses the old-fashioned "yes, sir," "no, sir," "i think so, sir," but ma'am has gone out of style. both boys and girls must therefore answer, "no, mrs. smith," "yes, miss jones." a girl says "yes, mr. smith," rather than "sir." all children should say, "what did you say, mother?" "no, father," "thank you, aunt kate," "yes, uncle fred," etc. they need not insert a name in a long sentence nor with "please," or "thank you." "yes, please," or "no, thank you," is quite sufficient. or in answering, "i just saw mary down in the garden," it is not necessary to add "mrs. smith" at the end. =etiquette for grown children= etiquette for grown children is precisely the same as for grown persons, excepting that in many ways the manners exacted of young people should be more "alert" and punctilious. young girls (and boys of course) should have the manners of a gentleman rather than those of a lady; in that a gentleman always rises, relinquishes the best seat and walks last into a room, whereas these courtesies are shown to, and not observed by ladies (except to other ladies older than themselves). in giving parties, young girls send out their invitations as their mothers do, and their deportment is the same as that of their débutante sister. boys behave as their fathers do, and are equally punctilious in following the code of honor of all gentlemen. the only details, therefore, not likely to be described in other chapters of this book, are a few admonitions on table manners, that are somewhat above "kindergarten" grade. =the graduating tests in table manners= a young person may be supposed to have graduated from the school of table etiquette when she, or he, would be able to sit at a formal lunch or dinner table and find no difficulty in eating properly any of the comestibles which are supposed to be "hurdles" to the inexpert. =corn on the cob= corn on the cob could be eliminated so far as ever having to eat it in formal company is concerned, since it is never served at a luncheon or a dinner; but, if you insist on eating it at home or in a restaurant, to attack it with as little ferocity as possible, is perhaps the only direction to be given, since at best it is an ungraceful performance and to eat it greedily a horrible sight! =asparagus= although asparagus may be taken in the fingers, don't take a long drooping stalk, hold it up in the air and catch the end of it in your mouth like a fish. when the stalks are thin, it is best to cut them in half with the fork, eating the tips like all fork food; the ends may then be taken in the fingers and eaten without a dropping fountain effect! don't squeeze the stalks, or hold your hand below the end and let the juice run down your arm. =artichokes= artichokes are always eaten with the fingers; a leaf at a time is pulled off and the edible end dipped in the sauce, and then bitten off. =bread and butter= bread should always be broken into small pieces with the fingers before being eaten. if it is to be buttered (at lunch, breakfast or supper, but not at dinner) a piece is held on the edge of the bread and butter plate, or the place plate, and enough butter spread on it for a mouthful or two at a time, with a small silver "butter knife." bread must never be held flat on the palm of the hand and buttered in the air. if the regular steel knife is used, care must be taken not to smear food from the knife's side on the butter. any food that is smeared about is loathsome. people who have beautiful table manners always keep their places at table neat. people with disgusting manners get everything in a horrible mess. =the management of bones and pits= terrapin bones, fish bones and grape seed must be eaten quite bare and clean in the mouth, and removed one at a time between finger and thumb. all spitting out of bones and pits into the plate is disgusting. if food is too hot, quickly take a swallow of water. on no account spit it out! if food has been taken into your mouth, no matter how you hate it, you have got to swallow it. it is unforgivable to take anything out of your mouth that has been put in it, except dry bones, and stones. to spit anything whatever into the corner of your napkin, is too nauseating to comment on. it is horrid to see any one spit skins or pits on a fork or into the plate. the only way to take anything out of your mouth is between first-finger and thumb. dry grape seeds or cherry pits can be dropped from the lips into the cupped hand. peaches or other very juicy fruits are peeled and then eaten with knife and fork, but dry fruits, such as apples, may be cut and then eaten in the fingers. _never_ wipe hands that have fruit juice on them on a napkin without first using a finger bowl, because fruit juices make indelible stains. =birds= birds are not eaten with the fingers in company! you cut off as much of the meat as you can, and leave the rest on your plate. =forks or fingers= all juicy or "gooey" fruits or cakes are best eaten with a fork, but in most cases it is a matter of dexterity. if you are able to eat a peach in your fingers and not smear your face, let juice run down, or make a sucking noise, you are the one in a thousand who _may_, and with utmost propriety, continue the feat. if you can eat a napoleon or a cream puff and not let the cream ooze out on the far side, you need not use a fork, but if you can not eat something--no matter what it is--without getting it all over your fingers, you must use a fork, and if necessary, a knife also! all rules of table manners are made to avoid ugliness; to let any one see what you have in your mouth is repulsive; to make a noise is to suggest an animal; to make a mess is disgusting. on the other hand, there are a number of trifling decrees of etiquette that are merely finical, unreasonable, and silly. why one should not cut one's salad in small pieces if one wants to, makes little sense, unless one wants to cut up a whole plateful and make the plate messy! a steel knife must not be used for salad or fruit, because it turns black. to condemn the american custom of eating a soft-boiled egg in a glass, or cup, because it happens to be the english fashion to scoop it through the ragged edge of the shell, is about as reasonable as though we were to proclaim english manners bad because they tag a breakfast dish, called a "savory" of fish-roe or something equally inappropriate, after the dessert at dinner. many other arbitrary rules for eating food with fork, spoon or fingers, are also stumbling-blocks rather than aids to smoothness. as said above, one eats with a fork or spoon "finger-foods" that are messy and sticky; one eats with the finger those which are dry. it is true that one should not eat french fried potatoes or saratoga chips in fingers, but that is because they belong to the meat course. separate vegetable saucers are never put on a fashionable table, neither is butter allowed at dinner. therefore both must be avoided in company, because "company" is formal, and etiquette is first aid always to formality. but if a man in his own house likes butter with his dinner or a saucer for his tomatoes, he is breaking the rule of fashion to have them, but he is scarcely committing an offense! in the same way, if he likes to eat a chicken wing or a squab leg in his fingers he can ask for a finger-bowl. the real objection to eating with the fingers is getting them greasy or sticky, and to suck them or smear one's napkin is equally unsightly. =on the subject of elbows= although elbows on the table are seen constantly in highest fashionable circles, a whole table's length of elbows planted like clothes-line poles and hands waving glasses or forks about in between, is neither an attractive nor (fortunately) an accurate picture of a fashionable dinner table. as a matter of fact, the tolerated elbow-on-table is used only on occasion and for a reason, and should neither be permitted to children nor practised in their presence. elbows are universally seen on tables in restaurants, especially when people are lunching or dining at a small table of two or four, and it is impossible to make oneself heard above the music by one's table companions, and at the same time not be heard at other tables nearby, without leaning far forward. and in leaning forward, a woman's figure makes a more graceful outline supported on her elbows than doubled forward over her hands in her lap as though in pain! at home, when there is no reason for leaning across the table, there is no reason for elbows. and at a dinner of ceremony, elbows on the table are rarely seen, except at the ends of the table, where again one has to lean forward in order to talk to a companion at a distance across the table corner. elbows are _never_ put on the table while one is eating. to sit with the left elbow propped on the table while eating with the right hand (unless one is alone and ill), or to prop the right one on the table while lifting the fork or glass to the mouth, must be avoided. chapter xxxvi every-day manners at home just as no chain is stronger than its weakest link, no manners can be expected to stand a strain beyond their daily test at home. those who are used to losing their temper in the bosom of their family will sooner or later lose it in public. families which exert neither courtesy nor charm when alone, can no more deceive other people into believing that either attribute belongs to them than they could hope to make painted faces look like "real" complexions. a mother should exact precisely the same behavior at home and every day, that she would like her children to display in public, and she herself, if she expects them to take good manners seriously, must show the same manners to them alone that she shows to "company." a really charming woman exerts her charm nowhere more than upon her husband and children, and a noble nature through daily though unconscious example is of course the greatest influence for good that there is in the world. no preacher, no matter how saint-like his precept or golden his voice, can equal the home influence of admirable parents. it is not merely in such matters as getting up when their mother or other older relatives enter a room, answering civilly and having good table manners, but in forming habits of admirable living and thinking that a parent's example makes or mars. if children see temper uncontrolled, hear gossip, uncharitableness and suspicion of neighbors, witness arrogant sharp-dealing or lax honor, their own characters can scarcely escape perversion. in the same way others can not easily fail to be thoroughbred who have never seen or heard their parents do or say an ignoble thing. no child will ever accept a maxim that is preached but not followed by the preacher. it is a waste of breath for the father to order his sons to keep their temper, to behave like gentlemen, or to be good sportsmen, if he does or is himself none of these things. in the present day of rush and hurry, there is little time for "home" example. to the over-busy or gaily fashionable, "home" might as well be a railroad station, and members of a family passengers who see each other only for a few hurried minutes before taking trains in opposite directions. the days are gone when the family sat in the evening around the fire, or a "table with a lamp," when it was customary to read aloud or to talk. few people "talk well" in these days; fewer read aloud, and fewer still endure listening to any book literally word by word. railroad station reading is as much in vogue as railroad station bolting of meals. magazines--"picture" ones--are all that the hurried have time for, and even those who profess to "love reading" dart tourist-fashion from page to page only pausing at attractive paragraphs; and family relationships are followed somewhat in the same way. any number of busy men scarcely know their children at all, and have not even stopped to realize that they seldom or never talk to them, never exert themselves to be sympathetic with them, or in the slightest degree to influence them. to growl "mornin'," or "don't, johnny," or "be quiet, alice!" is very, very far from being "an influence" on your children's morals, minds or manners. =home education= a supreme court justice whose education had been cut short in his youth by the civil war, when asked how, under the circumstances, his scholastic attainments had been acquired, answered: "my father believed it was the duty of every gentleman to bequeath the wealth of his intellect, no less than that of his pocket, to his children. wealth might be acquired by 'luck,' but proper cultivation was the birthright of every child born of cultivated parents. we learned latin and greek by having him talk and read them to us. he wrote doggerel rhymes of history which took the place of mother goose. he also told us 'bed-time stories' of history, and read classics to us after supper. when there was company, we were brought down from the nursery so that we might profit by the conversation of our betters." volumes full of "manners" acquired after they are grown are not worth half so much as the simplest precepts acquired through lifelong habits and through having known nothing else. =the old gray wrapper habit= how many times has one heard some one say: "i won't dress for dinner--no one is coming in." or, "that old dress will do!" old clothes! no manners! and what is the result? one wife more wonders why her husband neglects her! curious how the habit of careless manners and the habit of old clothes go together. if you doubt it, put the question to yourself: "who could possibly have the manners of a queen in a gray flannel wrapper?" and how many women really lovely and good--especially good--commit esthetic suicide by letting themselves slide down to where they "feel natural" in an old gray flannel wrapper, not only actually but mentally. the woman of charm in "company" is the woman of fastidiousness at home; she who dresses for her children and "prinks" for her husband's home-coming, is sure to greet them with greater charm than she who thinks whatever she happens to have on is "good enough." any old thing good enough for those she loves most! think of it! a certain very lovely lady whose husband is quite as much her lover as in the days of his courtship, has never in twenty years allowed him to watch the progress of her toilet, because of her determination never to let him see her except at her prettiest. needless to say, he never meets anything but "prettiest" manners either. no matter how "out of sorts" she may be feeling, his key in the door is a signal for her to "put aside everything that is annoying or depressing," with the result that wild horses couldn't drag his attention from her--all because neither she nor he has ever slumped into the gray flannel wrapper habit. so many people save up all their troubles to pour on the one they most love, the idea being, seemingly, that no reserves are necessary between lovers. nor need there be really. but why, when their house looks out upon a garden that has charming vistas, must she insist on his looking into the clothes-yard and the ash-can? she who complains incessantly that this is wrong, or that hurts, or any other thing worries or vexes her, so that his inevitable answer to her greeting is, "i'm so sorry, dear," or "that's too bad," or "poor darling, it's a shame," is getting mentally into a gray flannel wrapper! if something is seriously wrong, if she is really ill, that is different. but of the petty things that are only remembered in order to be told to gain sympathy--beware! there is a big deposit of sympathy in the bank of love, but don't draw out little sums every hour or so--so that by and by, when perhaps you need it badly, it is all drawn out and you yourself don't know how or on what it was spent. all that has been said to warn a wife from slovenly habits of mind or dress may be adapted to apply with equal force in suggesting a rule for husbands. a man should always remember that a woman's regard for him is founded on her impressions when seeing him at his best. even granting that she has no great illusions about men in general, he at his best is at least an approximation to her ideal--and it is his chief duty never to fall below the standard he set for himself in making his most cogent appeal. consequently he should continue through the years to be scrupulous about his personal appearance and his clothes, remembering the adage that the most successful marriages are those in which both parties to the contract succeed in "keeping up the illusion." it is of importance also that he refrain from burdening his wife with the cares and worries of his business day. many writers insist that the wife should be ready to receive a complete consignment of all his troubles when the husband comes home at the end of the day. it is a sounder practise for him to save her as much as possible from the trials of his business hours; and, incidentally, it is the best kind of mental training for him to put all business cares behind him as he closes the door of his office and goes home. when it is said that a husband should not fling all the day's trifling annoyances into the lap of his wife without reflecting that she may have some cares of her own, there is no intention to indicate that a wife should not have a thorough understanding of her husband's affairs. complete acquaintance and sympathy with his work is one of the foundation stones of the domestic edifice. =the family at table= whether "there is company" or whether the family is alone, the linen must be as spotless, the silver as clean, and the table as carefully set as though twenty were coming for dinner. sloppy service is no more to be tolerated every day at home than at a dinner party, and in so far as etiquette is concerned, you should live in exactly the same way whether there is company or none. "company manners" and "every-day manners" must be identical in service as well as family behavior. you may not be able to afford quantities of flowers in your house and on your table, or perhaps any, but there is no excuse for wilted flowers or an empty vase that merely accentuates your table's flowerlessness. there are plenty of table ornaments that need no flowers. in the same way the compotiers can be filled with candies or conserves of the "everlasting" variety; silver-foiled chocolates or nougat, or gum drops or crystalized ginger or conserved fruits--will keep for months! but the table must be decorated and a certain form observed at the dinner hour; otherwise gray flannel wrapper habits become imminent. letters, newspapers, books have no place at a dinner table. reading at table is allowable at breakfast and when eating alone, but a man and his wife should no more read at lunch or dinner before each other or their children than they should allow their children to read before them. =the table not a place for private discussion= one very bad habit in many families is the discussion of all of their most intimate affairs at table--entirely forgetting whoever may be waiting on it; and nine times out of ten those serving in the dining-room see no harm (if they feel like it) in repeating what is said. why should they? it scarcely occurs to them that they were "invisible" and that what was openly talked about at the table was supposed to be a secret! apart from the stupidity and imprudence of talking before witnesses, it is bad form to discuss one's private affairs before any one. and it should be unnecessary to add that a man and his wife who quarrel before their children or the servants, deprive the former of good breeding through inheritance, and publish to the latter that they do not belong to the "better class" through any qualification except the possession of a bank account. furthermore, parents must never disagree before the children. it simply can't be! nor can there be an appeal to one parent against the other by a child. "father told me to jump down the well!" "then you must do it, dear," is the mother's only possible comment. when the child has "jumped down the well," she may pull him out promptly, and she may in private tell her husband what she thinks about his issuing such orders and stand her own ground against them; but so long as parents are living under the same roofs that roof must shelter unity of opinion, so far as any witnesses are concerned. chapter xxxvii traveling at home and abroad to do nothing that can either annoy or offend the sensibilities of others, sums up the principal rules for conduct under all circumstances--whether staying at home or traveling. but in order to do nothing that can annoy or give offense, it is necessary for us to consider the point of view of those with whom we come in contact; and in traveling abroad it is necessary to know something of foreign customs which affect the foreign point of view, if we would be thought a cultivated and charming people instead of an uncivilized and objectionable one. before going abroad, however, let us first take up the subject of travel at home. since it is not likely that any one would go around the world being deliberately offensive to others, it may be taken for granted that obnoxious behavior is either the fault of thoughtlessness or ignorance--and for the former there is no excuse. =on a railroad train= on a railroad train you should be careful not to assail the nostrils of fellow passengers with strong odors of any kind. an odor that may seem to you refreshing, may cause others who dislike it and are "poor travelers" to suffer really great distress. there is a combination of banana and the leather smell of a valise containing food, that is to many people an immediate emetic. the smell of a banana or an orange, is in fact to nearly all bad travelers the last straw. in america where there are "diners" on every pullman train, the food odors are seldom encountered in parlor cars, but in europe where railroad carriages are small, one fruit enthusiast can make his traveling companions more utterly wretched than perhaps he can imagine. the cigar which is smoldering has, on most women, the same effect. certain perfumes that are particularly heavy, make others ill. to at least half of an average trainful of people, strong odors of one kind or another are disagreeable if not actually nauseating. =children on trains= people with children are most often the food-offenders. any number not only let small children eat continuously so that the car is filled with food odors, but occasional mothers have been known to let a child with smeary fingers clutch a nearby passenger by the dress or coat and seemingly think it cunning! those who can afford it, usually take the drawing-room and keep the children in it. those who are to travel in seats should plan diversions for them ahead of time; since it is unreasonable to expect little children to sit quietly for hours on end by merely telling them to "be good." two little girls on the train to washington the other day were crocheting doll's sweaters with balls of worsted in which were wound wrapped and disguised "prizes." the amount of wool covering each might take perhaps a half hour to use up. they were allowed the prize only when the last strand of wool around it was used. they were then occupied for a while with whatever it was--a little book, or a puzzle, or a game. when they grew tired of its novelty, they crocheted again until they came to the next prize. in the end they had also new garments for their dolls. =ladies do not travel with escorts= in a curiously naïve book on etiquette appeared a chapter purporting to give advice to a "lady" traveling for an indefinite number of days with a gentleman escort! that any lady could go traveling for days under the protection of a gentleman is at least a novelty in etiquette. as said elsewhere, in fashionable society an "escort" is unheard of, and in decent society a lady doesn't go traveling around the country with a gentleman unless she is outside the pale of society, in which case social convention, at least, is not concerned with her. ladies are sometimes accompanied on short, direct trips by gentlemen of their acquaintance, but not for longer than a few hours. if a lady traveling alone on a long journey, such as a trip across the continent, happens to find a gentleman on board whom she knows, she must not allow him to sit with her in the dining-car more often than a casual once or twice, nor must she allow him to sit with her or talk to her enough to give a possible impression that they are together. in fact she would be more prudent to take her meals by herself, as it is scarcely worth running the risk of other passengers' criticism for the sake of having companionship at a meal or two. if, on a short trip, a gentleman asks a lady, whom he knows, to lunch with him in the dining-car, there is no reason why she shouldn't. =the young woman traveling alone= in america, a young woman can go across every one of our thousands upon thousands of railed miles without the slightest risk of a disagreeable occurrence if she is herself dignified and reserved. she should be particularly careful if she is young and pretty not to allow strange men to "scrape an acquaintance" with her. if a stranger happens to offer to open a window for her, or get her a chair on the observation platform, it does not give him the right to more than a civil "thank you" from her. if, in spite of etiquette, she should on a long journey drift into conversation with an obviously well-behaved youth, she should remember that talking with him at all is contrary to the proprieties, and that she must be doubly careful to keep him at a formal distance. there is little harm in talking of utterly impersonal subjects--but she should avoid giving him information that is personal. every guardian should also warn a young girl that if, when she alights at her destination, her friends fail to meet her, she should on no account accept a stranger's offer, whether man or woman, to drive her to her destination. the safest thing to do is to walk. if it is too far, and there is no "official" taxicab agent belonging to the railroad company, she should go to the ticket seller or some one wearing the railroad uniform and ask him to select a vehicle for her. she should never--above all in a strange city where she does not even know her direction--take a taxi on the street. =registering in a hotel= a gentleman writes in the hotel register: "john smith, new york." under no circumstances "mr." or "hon." if he is alone. but if his wife is with him, the prefix to their joint names is correct: "mr. and mrs. john smith, new york." he never enters his street and house number. neither "john smith and wife" nor "john smith and family" are good form. if he does not like the "mr." before his name he can sign his own without, on one line, and then write "mrs. smith" on the one below. the whole family should be registered: john t. smith, new york mrs. smith, " and maid (_if she has brought one_) miss margaret smith, " john t. smith, jr., " baby and nurse, " or, if the children are young, he writes: mr. & mrs. john t. smith, new york, children and nurse. a lady never signs her name without "miss" or "mrs." in a hotel register: "miss abigail titherington" is correct, or "mrs. john smith," never "sarah smith." =ladies alone in american hotels= if you have never been in a hotel alone but you are of sufficient years, well behaved and dignified in appearance, you need have no fear as to the treatment you will receive. but you should write to the hotel in advance--whether here or in europe. in this country you register in the office and are shown to your room, or rooms, by a bell-boy--in some hotels by a bell-boy and a maid. one piece of advice: you will not get good service unless you tip generously. if you do not care for elaborate meals, that is nothing to your discredit; but you should not go to an expensive hotel, hold a table that would otherwise be occupied by others who might order a long dinner, and expect your waiter to be contented with a tip of fifteen cents for your dollar supper! the rule is ten per cent, beginning with a meal costing about three or four dollars. a quarter is the smallest possible tip in a first class hotel. if your meal costs a quarter--you should give the waiter a quarter. if it costs two dollars or more than two dollars, you give thirty or thirty-five cents, and ten per cent on a bigger amount. in smaller hotels tips are less in proportion. tipping is undoubtedly a bad system, but it happens to be in force, and that being the case, travelers have to pay their share of it--if they like the way made smooth and comfortable. a lady traveling alone with her maid (or without one), of necessity has her meals alone in her own sitting-room, if she has one. if she goes to the dining-room, she usually takes a book because hotel service seems endless to one used to meals at home and nothing is duller than to sit long alone with nothing to do but look at the tablecloth, which is scarcely diverting, or at other people, which is impolite. =on the steamer= in the days when our great-grandparents went to europe on a clipper ship carrying at most a score of voyagers and taking a month perhaps to make the crossing, those who sat day after day together, and evening after evening around the cabin lamp, became necessarily friendly; and in many instances not only for the duration of the voyage but for life. more often than not, those who had "endured the rigors" of the atlantic together, joined forces in engaging the courier who was in those days indispensable, and set out on their continental travels in company. dashing to europe and back was scarcely to be imagined, and travelers who had ventured such a distance, stayed at least a year or more. also in those slower days of crawling across the earth's surface by post-chaise and diligence and horseback, travelers meeting in inns and elsewhere, fell literally on each other's neck at the sound of an american accent! and each retailed to the other his news of home; to which was added the news of all whom they had encountered. it is also from these "traveling ancestors" that families inherit their continental visiting lists. friends they made in europe, in turn gave letters of introduction to friends coming later to america. and to them again their american hosts sent letters by later american friends. but to-day when going to europe is of scarcely greater importance than going into another state, and when the passenger list numbers hundreds, "making friends with strangers" is the last thing the great-grandchildren of those earlier travelers would think of. it may be pretty accurately said that the faster and bigger the ship, the less likely one is to speak to strangers, and yet--as always--circumstances alter cases. because the worldlys, the oldnames, the eminents,--all those who are innately exclusive--never "pick up" acquaintances on shipboard, it does not follow that no fashionable and well-born people ever drift into acquaintanceship on european-american steamers of to-day--but they are at least not apt to do so. many in fact take the ocean-crossing as a rest-cure and stay in their cabins the whole voyage. the worldlys always have their meals served in their own "drawing-room" and have their deck chairs placed so that no one is very near them, and keep to themselves except when they invite friends of their own to play bridge or take dinner or lunch with them. but because the worldlys and the eminents--and the snobsnifts who copy them--stay in their cabins, sit in segregated chairs and speak to no one except the handful of their personal friends or acquaintances who happen to be on board, it does not follow that the smiths, joneses and robinsons are not enlarging their acquaintance with every revolution of the screws. and if you happen to like to be talked to by strangers, and if they in turn like to talk to you, it can not be said that there is any rule of etiquette against it. =dining saloon etiquette= very fashionable people as a rule travel a great deal, which means that they are known very well to the head steward, who reserves a table, or they engage a table for themselves when they get their tickets. mr. and mrs. gilding for instance, if they know that friends of theirs are sailing on the same steamer, ask them to sit at their table and ask for a sufficiently large table on purpose. or if they are traveling alone, they arrange to have one of the small tables for two, to themselves. people of wide acquaintance in big cities are sure to find friends on board with whom they can arrange, if they choose, to sit on deck or in the dining saloon, but most people, unless really intimate friends are on board, sit wherever the head steward puts them. after a meal or two people always speak to those sitting next to them. none but the rudest snobs would sit through meal after meal without ever addressing a word to their table companions. well-bred people are always courteous, but that does not mean that they establish friendships with any strangers who happen to be placed next to them. in crossing the pacific, people are more generally friendly because the voyage is so much longer, and on the other long voyages, such as those to india and south africa, the entire ship's company become almost as intimate as in the old clipper days. =the tactics of the climber= there are certain constant travelers who, it is said, count on a european voyage to increase their social acquaintance by just so much each trip! richan vulgar, for instance, has his same especial table every time he crosses, which is four times a year! walking through a "steamer train" he sees a "celebrity," a brilliant, let us say, but unworldly man. vulgar annexes him by saying, casually, "have you a seat at table? better sit with me, i always have the table by the door; it is easy to get in and out." the celebrity accepts, since there is no evidence that he is to be "featured," and the chances are that he remains unconscious to the end of time that he served as a decoy. boarding the steamer, vulgar sees the lovejoys, and pounces: "you must sit at my table! celebrity and i are crossing together--he is the most delightful man! i want you to sit next to him." they think celebrity sounds very interesting; so, not having engaged a table for themselves, they say they will be delighted. on the deck, the smartlys appear and ask the lovejoys to sit with them. vulgar, who is standing by (he is always standing by) breaks in even without an introduction and says: "mr. and mrs. lovejoy and celebrity are sitting at my table, won't you sit with me also?" if the smartlys protest they have a table, he is generally insistent and momentarily overpowering enough to make them join forces with him. as the smartlys particularly want to sit next to the lovejoys and also like the idea of meeting celebrity, it ends in vulgar's table being a collection of fashionables whom he could not possibly have gotten together without just such a maneuver. the question of what he gets out of it is puzzling since with each hour the really well-bred people dislike him more and more intensely, and at the end of a day or so, his table's company are all eating on deck to avoid him. perhaps there is some recompense that does not appear on the surface, but to the casual observer the satisfaction of telling others that the smartlys, lovejoys and wellborns sat at his table would scarcely seem worth the effort. =those acquisitive of acquaintance= there is another type of steamer passenger and hotel guest who may, or may not, be a climber. this one searches out potential acquaintances on the passenger list and hotel register with the avidity of a bird searching for worms. you have scarcely found your own stateroom and had your deck chair placed, when one of them swoops upon you: "i don't know whether you remember me? i met you in nineteen two, at countess della robbia's in florence." your memory being woefully incomplete, there is nothing for you to say except, "how do you do!" if a few minutes of conversation, which should be sufficient, proves her to be a lady, you talk to her now and again throughout the voyage, and may end by liking her very much. if, however, her speech breaks into expressions which prove her not a lady, you become engrossed in your book or conversation with another when she approaches. often these over-friendly people are grasping, calculating and objectionable, but sometimes like ricki ticki tavi they are merely obsessed with a mania to run about and see what is going on in the world. for instance, miss spinster is one of the best-bred, best-informed, most charming ladies imaginable. but her mania for people cannot fail on occasions to put her in a position to be snubbed--never seriously because she is too obviously a lady for that. but to see her trotting along the deck and then darting upon a helpless reclining figure, is at least an illustration of the way some people make friends. it can't be done, of course, unless you have once known the person you are addressing, or unless you have a friend in common who, though absent, can serve in making the introduction. as said in "introductions," introducing oneself is often perfectly correct. if you, sharing miss spinster's love of people, find yourself on a steamer with the intimate friend of a member of your family, you may very properly go up and say, "i am going to speak to you because i am celia lovejoy's cousin--i am mrs. brown." and mrs. norman, who very much likes celia lovejoy, says cordially, "i am so glad you spoke to me, do sit down, won't you?" but to have your next chair neighbor on deck insist on talking to you, if you don't want to be talked to, is very annoying, and it is bad form for her to do so. if you are sitting hour after hour doing nothing but idly looking in front of you, your neighbor might address a few remarks to you, and if you receive them with any degree of enthusiasm, your response may be translated into a willingness to talk. but if you answer in the merest monosyllables, it should be taken to mean that you prefer to be left to your own diversions. even if you are agreeable, your neighbor should show tact in not speaking to you when you are reading or writing, or show no inclination for conversation. the point is really that no one must do anything to interfere with the enjoyment of another. whoever is making the advance, whether your neighbor or yourself, it must never be more than tentative; if not at least met halfway, it must be withdrawn at once. that is really the only rule there is. it should merely be granted that those who do not care to meet others have just as much right to their seclusion as those who delight in others have a right to be delighted--as long as that delight is unmistakably mutual. =steamer tips= each ordinary first class passenger, now as always, gives ten shillings ($ . ) to the room steward or stewardess, ten shillings to the dining-room steward, ten shillings to the deck steward, ten shillings to the lounge steward. your tip to the head steward and to one of the chefs depends on whether they have done anything especial for you. if not, you do not tip them. if you are a bad sailor and have been taking your meals in your room, you give twenty shillings ($ . ) at least to the stewardess (or steward, if you are a man). or if you have eaten your meals on deck, you give twenty shillings to the deck steward, and ten to his assistant, and you give five to the bath steward. to any steward who takes pains to please you, you show by your manner in thanking him that you appreciate his efforts, as well as by giving him a somewhat more generous tip when you leave the ship. if you like your bath at a certain hour, you would do well to ask your bath steward for it as soon as you go on board (unless you have a private bath of your own), since the last persons to speak get the inconvenient hours--naturally. to many the daily salt bath is the most delightful feature of the trip. the water is always wonderfully clear and the towels are heated. if you have been ill on the voyage, some ship's doctors send in a bill; others do not. in the latter case you are not actually obliged to give them anything, but the generously inclined put the amount of an average fee in an envelope and leave it for the doctor at the purser's office. =dress on the steamer= on the _de luxe_ steamers nearly every one dresses for dinner; some actually in ball dresses, which is in worst possible taste, and, like all over-dressing in public places, indicates that they have no other place to show their finery. people of position never put on formal evening dress on a steamer, not even in the _à la carte_ restaurant, which is a feature of the _de luxe_ steamer of size. in the dining saloon they wear afternoon house dresses--without hats--for dinner. in the restaurant they wear semi-dinner dresses. some smart men on the ordinary steamers put on a dark sack suit for dinner after wearing country clothes all day, but in the _de luxe_ restaurant they wear tuxedo coats. no gentleman wears a tail-coat on shipboard under any circumstances whatsoever. =traveling abroad= just as one discordant note makes more impression than all the others that are correctly played in an entire symphony, so does a discordant incident stand out and dominate a hundred others that are above criticism, and therefore unnoticed. in every country of europe and asia are americans who combine the brilliancy which none can deny is the birthright of the newer world, with the cultivation and good breeding of the old. these americans of the best type go all over the world, fitting in so perfectly with their background that not even the inhabitants notice they are strangers; in other words they achieve the highest accomplishment possible. but in contrast to these, the numberless discordant ones are only too familiar; one sees them swarming over europe in bunches, sometimes in hordes, on regular professionally run tours. this, of course, does not mean that all personally conducted tourists are anything like them. the objectionables are loud of voice, loud in manner; they always attract as much attention as possible to themselves, and wave american flags on all occasions. the american flag is the most wonderful emblem in the whole world, and ours is the most glorious country too, but that does not mean that it is good taste to wave our flag for no reason whatever. at a parade or on an especial day when other people are waving flags, then let us wave ours by all means--but not otherwise. it does not dignify our flag to make it an object of ridicule to others, and that is exactly the result of the ceaseless flaunting of it by a group of people who talk at the top of their voices, who deliberately assume that the atmosphere belongs to them, and who behave like noisy, untrained savages trying to "show off." in hotels, on excursions, steamers and trains, they insist on talking to everyone, whether everyone wants to talk or not. they are "all over the place"--there is no other way to express it--and they allow privacy to no one if they can help it. numberless cultivated americans traveling in europe never by any chance speak english or carry english books on railroad trains, as a protection against the other type of american who allows no one to travel in the same compartment and escape conversation. the only way to avoid unwelcome importunities is literally to take refuge in assuming another nationality. strangely enough, these irrepressibles are seldom encountered at home; they seem to develop on the steamer and burst into full bloom only on the beaten tourist trails--which is a pity, because if they only developed at home instead, we might be intensely annoyed but at least we should not be mortified before our own citizens about other fellow-citizens. but to a sensitive american it is far from pleasant to have the country he loves represented by a tableful of vulgarians noisily attracting the attention of a whole dining-room, and to have a european say mockingly, "ah, and those are your compatriots?" some years ago, a russian grand duke sitting next to mrs. oldname at a luncheon in a monte carlo restaurant, said to her: "your country puzzles me! how can it be possible that it holds without explosion such antagonistic types as the many charming americans we are constantly meeting, and at the same time--" looking at a group who were actually singing and beating time on their glasses with knives and forks--"those!" a french officer's comment to an american officer with whom he was talking in a club in paris, quite unconsciously tells the same tale: "you are _liaison_ officer, i suppose, with the americans? but may i be permitted to ask why you wear their uniform?" the other smiled: "i am an american!" "you an american? impossible! why, you speak french like a parisian, you have the manner of a great gentleman!" (_un grand seigneur_,) which would indicate that the average american does not speak perfect french nor have beautiful manners. there is much excuse for not speaking foreign languages, but there is no excuse whatever for having offensive manners and riding rough-shod over people who own the land--not we, who seem to think we do. as for "souvenir hunters," perhaps they can explain wherein their pilfering of another's property differs from petty thieving--a distinction which the owner can scarcely be expected to understand. those who write their names, defacing objects of beauty with their vainglorious smudges and scribblings, are scarcely less culpable. in france, in spain, in italy, grace and politeness of manner is as essential to merest decency as being clothed. in the hotels that are "used to us" (something of a commentary!) our lack of politeness is tolerated; but don't think for a moment it is not paid for! the officer referred to above, who had had the advantage of summer after summer spent in europe as a boy, was charged just about half what another must pay who has "the rudeness of a savage." but good manners are good manners everywhere, except that in latin and asiatic countries we must, as it seems to us, exaggerate politeness. we must, in france and italy, bow smilingly; we must, in spain and the east, bow gravely; but in any event, it is necessary everywhere, except under the american and british flags, to _bow_--though your bow is often little more than a slight inclination of the head, and a smile--and to show some ceremony in addressing people. when you go into a shop in france or italy, you must smile and bow and say, "good morning, madam," or "good evening, monsieur," and "until we meet again," when you leave. if you can't say "au revoir," say "good afternoon" in english, but at all events say _something_ in a polite tone of voice, which is much more important than the words themselves. to be civilly polite is not difficult--it is merely a matter of remembering. to fail to say "good morning" to a _concierge_, a chambermaid, or a small tradesman in france, treating him (or her) as though he did not exist, is not evidence of your grandeur but of your ignorance. a french duchess would not _think_ of entering the littlest store without saying, "good morning, madame," to its proprietress, and if she is known to her at all, without making enquiries concerning the health of the various members of her family. nor would she fail to say, "good morning, auguste," or "marie," to her own servants. =europe's unflattering opinion of us= for years we americans have swarmed over the face of the world, taking it for granted that the earth's surface belongs to us because we can pay for it, and it is rather worse than ever since the war, when the advantages of exchange add bitterness to irritation. and yet there are many who are highly indignant when told that, as a type, we are not at all admired abroad. instead of being indignant, how much simpler and better it would be to make ourselves admirable, especially since it is those who most lack cultivation who are most indignant. the very well-bred may be mortified and abashed, but they can't be indignant except with their fellow countrymen who by their shocking behavior make europe's criticism just. understanding of, and kind-hearted consideration for the feelings of others are the basic attributes of good manners. without observation, understanding is impossible--even in our own country where the attitude of our neighbors is much the same as our own. it is not hard to appreciate, therefore, that to understand the point of view of people entirely foreign to ourselves, requires intuitive perception as well as cultivation in a very high degree. =americans in european society= it is only in musical comedy that one can go into a strange city and be picked out of the crowd and invited to the tables of the high of the land, because one looks as though one might be agreeable! to see anything of society in the actual world it is necessary to have friends, either americans living or "stationed" or married abroad; or to take letters of introduction. taking letters of introduction should never be done carelessly, because of the obligation that they impose. but to go to a strange country and see nothing of its social life, is like a blind person's going to the theater, and the only way a stranger can know people is through the letters he brings. under ordinary circumstances no knowledge whatsoever beyond the social amenities the world over are necessary. a dinner abroad is exactly the same as one here. you enter a room, you bow, you shake hands, you say, "how do you do." you sit at table, you talk of impersonal things, say "good-by" and "thank you" to your hostess, and you leave. the matter of addressing people of title correctly is of little importance. the beautiful lady oldworld (who was alice town) was asked one day by a fellow countryman, what she called this person of title and that one, and she replied: "i'm not sure that i know! why should i call them at all?" which was a perfectly sensible answer. one never says anything but "you" to the person spoken to; and it might be an excellent thing not to know how to speak about anyone with a title, as it would prevent one's mentioning them. having gone into the subject thus far, however, it may be added that if at a dinner you are put next to a duke, if it is necessary to call him anything except "you," you would say "duke." unless you are waiting on the table instead of sitting at it, you would not say, "your grace" and not even _then_ "my lord duke." neither, unless you are a valet or a chambermaid, would you say "your lordship" to an earl! if you are a lady, you call him "lord arlington." if you know him really well, you call him "arlington." to a knight you say, "sir arthur," which sounds familiar, but there is nothing else you can call him. in england a stranger is not supposed to introduce anyone, so that titles of address are not necessary then either; but if you happen to be the hostess and french or americans are present, who like introductions, you introduce sir arthur dryden to the duke and duchess of overthere, or to prince and princess capri. in talking to her, the latter would be called "princess" and her husband "prince capri" or "prince" or by those who know him well, "capri." =presentation at court= frequently american men are presented at the british court at levees held by the king for the purpose. such men are of course distinguished citizens who have been in some branch of public service, or who have contributed something to art, science, history or progress. an american lady to be eligible for presentation at a foreign court should be either the wife or daughter of a distinguished american citizen or be herself notable in some branch of learning or accomplishment. it is absolutely necessary that such a candidate take letters of introduction to the american ambassador,[c] or minister if in a country where we have a legation instead of an embassy. she would enclose her letters in a note to the ambassadress asking that her name be put on the list for presentation. the propriety of this request is a very difficult subject to advise upon, in that it is better that the suggestion come from the ambassador rather than from oneself. it is, however, perfectly permissible for one whose presentation is appropriate, but who may perhaps not know the ambassador or his wife personally, to do as suggested above. it must also be remembered that rarely more than three or perhaps five persons are presented at any one time, so that the difficulty of obtaining a place on the list is obvious. an american lady is presented by the american ambassadress (or the wife of the american minister) or by the wife of the chargé d'affaires if the ambassadress be absent; or occasionally by the doyenne of the diplomatic corps at the request of the american embassy. it would be futile to attempt giving details of full court dress or especial details of etiquette, as these vary not alone with countries, but with time! if you are about to be presented, you will surely be told all that is necessary by the person presenting you. these details, after all, merely comprise the exact length of train or other particulars of dress, the hour you are to be at such and such a door, where you are to stand, and how many curtsies or bows you are to make. in all other and essential particulars you behave as you would in any and every circumstance of formality. in general outline, however, it would be safe to say that on the day of the ceremony you drive to the palace at a specified hour, wearing specified clothes and carrying your card of invitation in your hand. your wraps are left in the carriage (or motor-car), you enter the palace and are shown into a room where you wait, and wait and wait! until at last you are admitted to the audience chamber where you approach the receiving royalties; you curtsy deeply before them and then back out. or else--you stand on an assigned spot while the king or queen or both make the tour of those waiting, who curtsy (or bow) deeply at their approach and again at their withdrawal. if you are spoken to at length, you answer as under any other circumstances, exactly as a polite child answers his elders. you do not speak unless spoken to. if your answer is long you need say nothing except the answer; if short, you add "sir" to the king and "madam" to the queen. this seemingly democratic title is as a matter of fact the correct one for all royalty. "yes, sir." "very much indeed, madam." "i think so, madam." [footnote c: in south america alone, where out of courtesy to those who also consider themselves "americans," the embassies and legations of our country are known as those of the united states of america. but in all other countries of the world we are known simply as "americans"--it is the only name we have. we are not united staters or united statian--there is not even a word to apply to us! to speak of the american minister to this country or that, and of the american embassy in paris for instance, is entirely correct.] =foreign languages= in the latin countries, grace and facility of speech is an object of lifelong cultivation--and no one is considered an educated person who can not speak several languages well. those who speak many fluently, by the way, are seldom those who constantly interlard their own tongue with words from another. not to understand any foreign languages would be a decided handicap in european society, where conversation is very apt to turn polyglot, beginning in one tongue and going on in a second and ending in a third. so that one who knows only english is often in the position of a deaf person, even though europeans are invariably polite and never let a conversation run long in a language which all those present do not understand. it might easily happen that a french lady and an american, neither understanding the tongue of the other, meet at the house of an italian, where there is also an italian monolinguist, so that the hostess has to talk in three languages at once. it is unreasonable to expect the average american to be a linguist; we are too far removed from foreign countries. as a matter of fact, if you would make yourself agreeable, it is much better (unless your facility was acquired as a child or you have a talent amounting to genius for accent and construction), to make it a rule when you lunch or dine with europeans to talk english, since all latins acutely suffer at hearing their language distorted. english, on the other hand, is not beautiful in sound to the foreign ear; it is a series of esses and shushes, lumped with consonants like an iron-wheeled cart bumping over a cobble-stoned street. the latin's accent in english is annoying even to us at times, but the english accent in french, italian or spanish is murderous! furthermore, the latin passionately loves his language in the way the westerner loves his city; he simply can not endure to have it abused, and execrates the person who does so. and, proportionately, he loves the few who prove they share his love by speaking it creditably. =to improve one's accent= if you want to improve your accent, nothing can so help you as going to the theater abroad until your ears literally absorb the sounds! all people are imitative. there are few who do not gradually lose the purity of a good foreign accent when long away from europe, and all speak more fluently when their ears become accustomed to the sound. the theater is not only the best possible place to hear correctly enunciated speech, but a play of contemporary life is equally valuable as a study in manners. there is also a suavity of grace in the way europeans bow and stand and sit, and in the way they speak, that is unconsciously imitated. these "manners" need not--in fact, should not--be gushing or mincing, but you gradually perceive that jerking ramrod motions and stalking into a drawing-room like a grenadier are less impressive than awkward. =the spoiled american girl= the subject of american manners, as they appear to europeans, cannot be dismissed without comment on a reprehensible type of american girl who flourishes on shipboard, on tours, and in public places generally--but most particularly in the large and expensive hotels of continental resorts. if she and her family have a "home," they are never in it, and if they have any object in life other than letting her follow her own unhampered inclinations, it is not apparent to the ordinary observer. such a girl is always over-dressed, she wears every fashion in its extremest exaggeration, she sparkles with jewelry, and reeks of scent, she switches herself this way and that, and is always posing in public view and playing to the public gallery. she generally has a small brother who refuses to go to bed at night, or to stop making the piazza chairs into a train of cars, or to use the public halls as a skating rink. when he is not making a noise, he is eating. and his "elegant" sister looks upon him with disdain. sister, meanwhile, jingling with chains and bangles, decked in scarfs and tulle and earrings, leans on or against whatever happens to be convenient, flirting with any casual stranger who comes along. she invariably goes to her meals alone--evidently thinking her parents should be kept apart from her. she is never away from the kurhaus or casino, abroad or the hotel lobby in america. she is nearly always alone, and the book she is perpetually reading is always opened at the same page, and she is sure to look up as you pass. she is very ready to be "picked up" and to confide her life's history, past, present and future, to any stranger, especially a young one of the opposite sex. she is rude only to her mother and father. she is also (we know, but europe doesn't) a perfectly "good" girl. her lack of etiquette is shocking, but her morals are above reproach. she does not even mean to be rude to her parents, and she has no idea that the things she does are exactly those which condemn her in the opinion of strangers. if she were constantly with, and obviously devoted to her mother, she would make an infinitely better impression, both as to good form and as to heart, than by segregating herself so that she can be joined by any haphazard youth who strolls into view, and thereby cheapening not only herself but the name of the american girl in general. curiously enough, if she marries in europe, she is apt to "settle down" and become an altogether admirable example of american-european womanhood, because she is sound fruit at heart--merely wrapped in tawdry gilt paper trimming by her adoring but ignorantly unwise parents who, in their effort to show her off, disguise the very qualities which should have been accentuated. =ladies traveling alone in europe= europeans can not possibly understand how any lady of social position can be without a maid. a lady traveling alone, therefore, has this trifling handicap to start with. it is a very snobbish opinion, and one who has the temerity to attempt traveling all by herself has undoubtedly the ability to see it through. she need after all merely behave with extreme quietness and dignity and she can go from one end of the world to the other without molestation or even difficulty--especially if she is anything of a linguist. in going from one place to another, it is wiser to write as long as possible ahead for accommodations--possibly giving the name of the one (if any) who recommended the hotel. but in going far off into asia or other "difficult" countries, she would better join friends or at least a personally conducted tour, unless she has the mettle of a burton or a stanley. =motoring in europe= motoring in europe is perfectly feasible and easy. a car has to be put in a crate to cross the ocean, but in crossing the channel between england and france, no difficulty whatever is experienced. all information necessary can be had at any of the automobile clubs, and in going from one country to another, you have merely to show your passports at the border properly viséd and pay a deposit to insure your not selling the car out of the country, which is refunded when you come back. garage charges are reasonable, but gasoline is high. roads are beautiful, and traveling--once you have your car--is much cheaper than by train. once off the beaten track, a tourist who has not a working knowledge of the language of the country he is driving through, is at a disadvantage, but plenty of people constantly do it, so it is at least not insurmountable. with english you can go to most places--with english and french nearly everywhere. the michelin guide shows you in a little drawing, exactly the type of hotels you will find in each approaching town and the price of accommodation, so that you can choose your own stopping places accordingly. "and etiquette?" you ask. there is no etiquette of motoring that differs from all other etiquette. except of course not to be a road hog--or a road pig! people who take up the entire road are not half the offenders that others are who picnic along the side of it and leave their old papers and food all over everywhere. for that matter, any one who shoves himself forward in any situation in life, he who pushes past, bumping into you, walking over you, in order to get a first seat on a train, or to be the first off a boat, any one who pushes himself out of his turn, or takes more than his share, anywhere or of anything--is precisely that sort of an animal. =on a continental train= europeans usually prefer to ride backwards, and as an american prefers to face the engine, it works out beautifully. it is not etiquette to talk with fellow passengers, in fact it is very middle-class. if you are in a smoking carriage (all european carriages are smoking unless marked "ladies alone" or "no smoking") and ladies are present, it is polite to ask if you may smoke. language is not necessary, as you need merely to look at your cigar and bow with an interrogatory expression, whereupon your fellow passengers bow assent and you smoke. =the perfect traveler= one might say the perfect traveler is one whose digestion is perfect, whose disposition is cheerful, who can be enthusiastic under the most discouraging circumstances, to whom discomfort is of no moment, and who possesses at least a sense of the ridiculous, if not a real sense of humor! the perfect traveler furthermore, is one who possesses the virtue of punctuality; one who has not forgotten something at the last minute, and whose bags are all packed and down at the hour for the start. those who fuss and flurry about being ready, or those whose disposition is easily upset or who are inclined to be gloomy, should not travel--unless they go alone. nothing can spoil a journey more than some one who is easily put out of temper and who always wants to do something the others do not. whether traveling with your family or with comparative strangers, you must realize that your personal likes and dislikes have at least on occasion to be subordinated to the likes and dislikes of others; nor can you always be comfortable, or have good weather, or make perfect connections, or find everything to your personal satisfaction; and you only add to your own discomfort and chagrin, as well as to the discomfort of every one else, by refusing to be philosophical. those who are bad sailors should not go on yachting parties; they are always abjectly wretched, and are of no use to themselves or any one else. those who hate walking should not start out on a tramp that is much too far for them and expect others to turn back when they get tired. they need not "start" to begin with, but having once started, they must see it through. there is no greater test of a man's (or a woman's) "wearing" qualities than traveling with him. he who is always keen and ready for anything, delighted with every amusing incident, willing to overlook shortcomings, and apparently oblivious of discomfort, is, needless to say, the one first included on the next trip. chapter xxxviii growth of good taste in america good taste or bad is revealed in everything we are, do, or have. our speech, manners, dress, and household goods--and even our friends--are evidences of the propriety of our taste, and all these have been the subject of this book. rules of etiquette are nothing more than sign-posts by which we are guided to the goal of good taste. whether we americans are drifting toward or from finer perceptions, both mental and spiritual, is too profound a subject to be taken up except on a broader scope than that of the present volume. yet it is a commonplace remark that older people invariably feel that the younger generation is speeding swiftly on the road to perdition. but whether the present younger generation is really any nearer to that frightful end than any previous one, is a question that we, of the present older generation, are scarcely qualified to answer. to be sure, manners seem to have grown lax, and many of the amenities apparently have vanished. but do these things merely seem so to us because young men of fashion do not pay party calls nowadays and the young woman of fashion is informal? it is difficult to maintain that youth to-day is so very different from what it has been in other periods of the country's history, especially as "the capriciousness of beauty," the "heartlessness" and "carelessness" of youth, are charges of a too suspiciously bromidic flavor to carry conviction. the present generation is at least ahead of some of its "very proper" predecessors in that weddings do not have to be set for noon because a bridegroom's sobriety is not to be counted on later in the day! that young people of to-day prefer games to conversation scarcely proves degeneration. that they wear very few clothes is not a symptom of decline. there have always been recurring cycles of undress, followed by muffling from shoe-soles to chin. we have not yet reached the undress of pauline bonaparte, so the muffling period may not be due! however, leaving out the mooted question whether etiquette may not soon be a subject for an obituary rather than a guide-book, one thing is certain: we have advanced prodigiously in esthetic taste. never in the recollection of any one now living has it been so easy to surround oneself with lovely belongings. each year's achievement seems to stride away from that of the year before in producing woodwork, ironwork, glass, stone, print, paint and textile that is lovelier and lovelier. one can not go into the shops or pass their windows on the streets without being impressed with the ever-growing taste of their display. nor can one look into the magazines devoted to gardens and houses and house-furnishings and fail to appreciate the increasing wealth of the beautiful in environment. that such exquisite "best" as america possessed in her colonial houses and gardens and furnishings should ever have been discarded for the atrocities of the period after the civil war, is comparable to nothing but titania's midsummer night's dream madness that made her believe an ass's features more beautiful than those of apollo! happily, however, since we never do things by halves, we are studying and cultivating and buying and making, and trying to forget and overcome that terrible marriage of our beautiful colonial ancestress with the dark-wooded, plush-draped, jig-sawed upstart of vulgarity and ignorance. in another country her type would be lost in his, forever! but in a country that sent a million soldiers across three thousand miles of ocean, in spite of every obstacle and in the twinkling of an eye, why even comment that good taste is pouring over our land as fast as periodicals, books and manufacturers can take it. three thousand miles east and west, two thousand miles north and south, white tiled bathrooms have sprung like mushrooms seemingly in a single night, charming houses, enchanting gardens, beautiful cities, cultivated people, created in thousands upon thousands of instances in the short span of one generation. certain great houses abroad have consummate quality, it is true, but for every one of these, there are a thousand that are mediocre, even offensive. in our own country, beautiful houses and appointments flourish like field flowers in summer; not merely in the occasional gardens of the very rich, but everywhere. and all this means? merely one more incident added to the many great facts that prove us a wonderful nation. (but this is an aside merely, and not to be talked about to anyone except just ourselves!) at the same time it is no idle boast that the world is at present looking toward america; and whatever we become is bound to lower or raise the standards of life. the other countries are old, we are youth personified! we have all youth's glorious beauty and strength and vitality and courage. if we can keep these attributes and add finish and understanding and perfect taste in living and thinking, we need not dwell on the golden age that is past, but believe in the golden age that is sure to be. =index= acceptance of an invitation, - ; to a formal dinner, - ; to an informal dinner, ; to a wedding, . acknowledgment of christmas presents, - ; of wedding presents, ; of messages of condolence, - . address, forms of. see: forms of address. address, notification of, ; by bride and groom, - . address on envelopes, , , ; on letters, , , , ; on visiting cards, - . afternoon parties, chapter on, - . afternoon teas. see: teas. ambassador, close of letter to, ; function of in presentation at court, ; how to address, ; how to announce as a guest, ; how to introduce, , . americans abroad, - . announcement of a death, ; of an engagement, , - , ; of a second marriage, ; of a wedding, - . announcing dinner, . announcing guests, at afternoon tea, ; at dinner, - . answering the door, . see also: "not at home." anthem, national, . apology, form of, - ; letters of, - ; at the theater, . archbishop, close of letter to, ; how to address, ; how to introduce, . argumentativeness, . arm, etiquette of offering and taking, . artichokes, how to eat, . asking for a dance, , . asparagus, how to eat, . assemblies, - . assemblyman, , . at home with dancing, invitations to an, - . au revoir, avoidance of use of, . automobiles. see: motoring; vehicles. baby, clothes for, at a christening, ; letters of thanks for gifts to, ; training in table manners, . bachelor's apartment, tea in, ; dinner, , - , ; party, , - ; theater party, . bachelor girl, . ball dress, , - , , ; in opera box, . ballroom, etiquette in, - ; for an afternoon tea, . balls, chapter on, - ; clothes for, ; gloves at, ; hand-shaking at, ; introductions at, , ; invitations to, - ; for a débutante, - ; public, - . beginning a letter, - . behavior, good, fundamentals of, - . best man, , ; clothes of, ; duties of on wedding day, - ; during the marriage ceremony, , , ; after the marriage ceremony, ; in rehearsal, , ; at the wedding breakfast, . best society, chapter on, - ; definition of, . beverages at afternoon teas, , , , , , ; at ball suppers, ; at formal dinners, , ; at luncheons, - ; at wedding breakfasts, , . big dinners, - . birds, how to eat, , . bishop, close of letter to, ; how to address, ; how to introduce, , . bones, management of, at table, - . boots, , . bouquet, bridal, , , ; of bridesmaid, . boutonnière, , , , , , . bowing, etiquette of, , , , - , , ; at court, . bread and butter, how to eat, . bread and butter letters, - . breakfast, invitations to, - ; for country house guests, - ; wedding, - . bridal procession, - , - . bridal veil, , . bride, acknowledgment of gifts by, - ; acquiring of social position by, - ; calls of, ; calls on, - ; gifts of to bridesmaids, ; gifts to by groom, ; giving away of, , ; house of on wedding day, - ; letters of thanks to relatives-in-law, ; during the marriage ceremony, , , ; in rehearsal, - ; at the wedding breakfast, , ; as a chaperon, ; as a guest of honor, . bride's going away dress, . bride's mother, cards left with, . bride's parents, - , , - , ; expenses of for wedding, - . bride's table, . bridegroom, - , - ; clothes of, , ; expenses of, , - , ; as a guest of honor, ; parents of, at wedding reception, ; wedding given by, - . bridegroom's mother, card left with, . bridesmaids, - , - , , , , - , . bridesmaids' luncheon, - . bridesmaids' and ushers' dinner, . bridge, - ; introduction at, ; invitation to, , - . buffet at afternoon teas, ; luncheons, - . bundles, carrying of, . burials, women at, . business etiquette, - ; letters, , - ; relations between men and women, , , - ; suits, , , - , ; visits, , , - . butler, - , - , , - , - , , . butter, avoidance of at formal dinner, , . cabaret, supper at, . cabinet, member of, close of letter to, , ; how to address, ; how to announce as a guest, ; how to introduce, . cardinal, close of letter to, ; how to address, ; how to introduce, , . calls. see: visits. camp, house party in, chapter on, - ; invitation to, . cards, of address, ; of admittance to church weddings, ; of general invitation, ; of introduction to a club, ; as invitations, , , ; at funerals, ; with gifts, , ; menu, ; place, ; visiting, chapter on, - . carriages. see: vehicles. cars. see: street cars; motoring; vehicles. carving, - . cereal, how to eat, . celebrities, afternoon teas in honor of, . chaperon, ; chapter on, - ; at public balls, . chic woman, . chicken, how to eat, , . children, cards of, ; conversation about, ; invitations to, , ; parties for, - ; table manners of, - ; training of, - , ; at afternoon tea, - ; on railway trains, . christenings, chapter on, - . christmas presents, - . church, greetings in, - ; leave-taking at, . church weddings, - ; - ; - ; invitations to, - . cigars. see: smoking. circus, etiquette at, . clergy, how to introduce, - . clergyman, close of letter to, , ; how to address, ; how to introduce, ; visiting card of, ; wedding fee of, . closing a letter, - , , , - , - . clothes, at an afternoon tea, , , ; at a christening, - ; at a concert, ; at a funeral, ; at a house party in camp, - ; at luncheon, ; at the opera, , , ; at theater, - , , ; on a visit, ; at a wedding, - , - , , - ; for a débutante, ; for a gentleman, chapter on, - ; for a lady, chapter on, - ; for servants, , , - , - , - ; for people with limited incomes, - , - . clubs, chapter on, - ; conversation in, . colloquial language, . colors, passing of the, . companion, . concert, clothes for, . condolence, - ; letters of, - ; visits of, , . congratulations, to bride and groom, ; letters of, - . congressman, , . consul, , . contradiction, - . conspicuousness, avoidance of, . conventions for the young girl, - . conversation, - ; chapter on, - ; foreign words in, ; how to begin, ; at afternoon tea, ; at dinner, , , - ; at the home table, ; at the opera, ; on a railway train, ; on a steamer, , , ; on the street, ; at the table, , , - ; at the theater, - ; at a wedding, , - ; without an introduction, , , - . cook, - , , - . corn, how to eat, . corn on the cob, when to eat, . correct usage of words and phrases, - . correspondence. see: letters. country clothes, - ; , ; . country clubs, - , . country house, chapter on, - ; invitations to, ; letters of thanks for visits to, - ; stationery, - . court, presentation at, - . courtship, - . crests, . cuff links, , , . cup, use of, . cut direct, - . cutaway coat, , , , . cutting in at a dance, - . dances, chapter on, - ; introductions at, ; invitations to, - , , , - , - ; at an afternoon tea, ; at a wedding, . dating a letter, . day dress, - . days at home, , - . death, notice of, , . debts, , , . débutante, , , - , , ; chapter on, - . débutante's card, ; theater party, - . dessert, - , . devices on stationery, - . dining-room, appointments of, - . dining-saloon etiquette, - . dinner, announcement of, - , ; clothes for, - , , , , ; introductions at, , - ; invitations to, , - , , ; seating at, , - , , - , ; taking in to, , - ; formal, chapter on, - ; before the opera, ; before the theater, ; for bridesmaids and ushers; for engaged couples, - ; for parents of groom-elect, ; for week-end guests, - ; in camp, ; with limited equipment, chapter on, - . dinner coat, . dishes, how to present, . dishing, . divorce, , . divorced woman, name of, ; visiting card of, . doctor, how to introduce, ; visiting cards of, . don'ts for débutantes, ; for a hostess at country house, - ; for setting the table, - ; for writing a letter, , - , . double cards, . drawing-room, , , , - . dress. see: clothes. drinking, - . drinks. see: beverages. duke, how to address, . earl, how to address, . eating difficult foods, , - . eggs, how to eat, - . elbows on the table, - . elevator, removal of gentleman's hat in, . elopements, . engaged couples, afternoon tea in honor of, ; dinner for, - ; entertainments for, ; photographs of in newspapers, ; visits of, . see also: fiancée. engagements, chapter on, - ; announcement of, ; congratulations on, - ; letters to relatives on, . engraved cards of thanks, ; pew cards, ; visiting cards, - . english clothes, , - . entertainments, introductions at, ; service at, - ; after dinner, ; at camp, - ; at country house, , - ; for engaged couples, . envelopes, , . escorts, - , - . etiquette, scope of, . european travel, - . evening clothes, , , , , , , - , . expenses, clothing, - , - ; funeral, - ; wedding, , , - , - . ex-president of the united states, how to introduce, . family affairs, conversation about, , - , , . fare, payment of, . fashion, - , - . father's consent to an engagement, . fiancée, asking invitations for to a ball, ; etiquette for, ; gifts to by groom-elect, - ; visits of, ; visits to, , . finger bowl, - , . finger food, - . flower girls, , . flowers, cards with, ; for débutante, - ; for fiancée, - ; for funerals, - ; for the guest room, ; for the table, , , ; for a wedding, - , - . folding a note, . food, at an afternoon tea, - , - ; at a ball supper, - ; in camp, - ; for country house guests, , - ; for formal dinner, , - , - ; for luncheon, - ; on a train, - ; for a wedding breakfast, , ; how to eat difficult foods, , - . footmen, house, - . foreign language, - . foreigners, shaking hands with, ; titled, how to address, - ; how to announce as guests, ; letters to, . fork, - , - ; use of, - , - . forms of address, , - , - . frock coat, , , . full dress, , , . funerals, chapter on, - . furnishings, of a camp, ; of a dining-room, - ; of a guest room, - . furniture, - . games, ; outdoor, - ; and sports, chapter on, - . see also: entertainments. garden party, - ; dress for, . gentleman, the, - . gentleman's stick, , , , , , . gifts, christmas, ; wedding, - ; to baby, , ; to bride by groom, ; to bridesmaids, ; to engaged couple, ; to fiancée by groom-elect, - ; to wedding ushers, ; of tickets for balls, concerts, etc., . girls. see: young girl. gloves, , , - , , , , , - , ; removal of when shaking hands, ; bridegroom's, ; white, when worn by a gentleman, . godparents, - . golf, . ; invitation to, ; clubs, . good-bys. see: leave taking. governor, close of letter to, ; how to address, ; how to announce as a guest, ; how to introduce, . greetings, chapter on, - ; abroad, - ; to mourners, . guest cards, - ; lists, - ; rooms, - , - . guests, announcement of, - , - ; introduction of, - , , ; selection of, ; to country house, - ; to débutante's party, ; to formal dinner, , - ; to a wedding, - ; tipping by, - . guests, distinguished, , . guests at an afternoon tea, ; at a christening, , ; at a country house, - , - , - , ; at a club, - ; at a formal dinner, , - ; at a garden party, ; at luncheon, ; in opera box, ; on private car, ; on yacht, . see also: precedence;--seating. handwriting, - , . hanging the bell, . hat, , - , , , , - , , ; lifting of, - ; removal of by a gentleman, - , . headdress, , , , , - , . healths to the bride, ; to an engaged couple, . "hello" as a greeting, - . home, manners in the, - . hospitality at parties, - ; in a country house, chapter on, - . host, bachelor as, - ; payment of restaurant checks by, ; introductions by, ; at a ball, ; at a country house, ; at a dinner, , - , ; at a garden party, . hostess, manners of, ; payment of restaurant checks by, ; presentation to at a dance or at the opera, . hostess at an afternoon tea, - ; at a ball, - ; in a country house, - , - ; at a dinner, - , - , - , ; at a garden party, ; at a luncheon, . hotels, - . hour, dinner, ; wedding, , - ; week-end party, . house, the well-appointed, chapter on, - ; formal entertaining in, - ; furniture in, - ; organization of, - ; servants in, - ; service in, - . house party, introductions at, ; invitations to, , ; bachelor's, - ; camp, - , country house, - . house suit, . house wedding, - . housekeeper, - . housemaid, , - . hunting clubs, . husband and wife, , , , , , - . ice cream as dessert, - . initials, in the signature of a letter, ; on visiting cards, - ; on wedding presents, - . "introduce," when used in introductions, . introductions, chapter on, - ; greetings at, - ; letters of, - , - ; at a ball, , ; at bridge, ; at a dinner, , - ; at a house party; at a luncheon, - ; at the opera, ; on a steamer, - ; on the street, ; at a wedding, , ; of guests of honor, ; of important personages, , ; of titled foreigners, - ; of a visitor to a club, - ; self, , . invalids, return visits of, ; visits to, , . invitations, chapter on, - ; asking for, - ; cards in connection with, - , , , , , ; by a chaperon, ; by telephone, - , - , ; to an at home with dancing, - ; to a bachelor's party, - ; to a ball or dance, - , , , - , - ; to a breakfast, - ; to bridge, , - ; to camp, ; to children, - ; to a christening, ; to country house, ; to a dinner, , - , , ; to golf, ; to a luncheon, , - , - ; to a picnic, - ; to a house party, , ; to a reception, ; to theater, - ; to a wedding, - , , - ; to a wedding anniversary, . see also: guests, selection of. jewelry, , , - , , ; for the bride, ; of mourners, ; at the opera, ; at the theater, . journeys of engaged couples, . judge, how to introduce, ; visiting cards of, . justice of the supreme court, close of letter to ; how to address, ; how to announce as a guest, ; how to introduce, . keeping dinner engagements, - . king. see: court; royalty. kissing, , , - . kitchen-maid, - . knife, ; use of, - . knight, how to address, . lady traveling alone in europe, - . lady's maid, , . language, - , - . leave taking, at church, ; after dinner, - ; after an introduction, , ; after a luncheon, ; after the opera, ; after a visit, . letters, chapter on, - ; shorter, chapter on, - . see also specific subjects, e.g.: beginning a letter; condolence, letters of; address on envelopes. liquid food, - . little dinner, - . livery of footmen, - ; mourning, . living alone by young girls or women, , . love letters, - . luncheon, chapter on, - ; introductions at, - , ; invitations to, , - , - ; bridesmaids, - . maid of honor at a wedding, , , , , , - . management of servants, - . manners, - ; definition of, ; in clubs, - ; at home, - ; at the table, - ; at the theater, - ; of americans abroad, - , - ; of a hostess, - . married couples. see: husband and wife; young couples. married woman, how to introduce, ; how to shake hands with, ; name of, - ; visiting card of, . see also: husband and wife. mayor, close of letter to, ; how to address, ; how to announce as a guest, ; how to introduce, . meeting, at church, - ; in the street, . men and women, relations between, - , - , - . menus. see: beverages; food. menu cards, . military officer, visiting card of, . minister plenipotentiary, , - . mr. and mrs. in conversation, ; money, conversation about, ; and social position, - , . motoring, , , - . mourners, how to address, . mourning, - ; bridesmaid in, ; for funeral, - ; stationery, . moving pictures, , . music at a ball, ; at a dinner, , ; at a funeral, ; at a wedding, - , - , - . musicale, . names, , - , - , . napkin ring, . napkins, - , , , . national anthem, . neighbors, new, afternoon tea in honor of, . see also: strangers, . newspapers, , , , . "not at home," - . note of apology, - . nurse, - . office buildings, etiquette in, . open air gatherings, . opera, , , , - , ; chapter on, - . orange blossoms at second marriage, . p.p.c. cards, . packages, . pall bearers, - , . paris clothes, , - . parlor maid, . party calls, . parties, attendance of a lady at, ; kissing at, ; non-return of, ; afternoon, chapter on, - ; children's, - ; engaged couples, - ; opera, ; theater, , . see also: house party. passing of colors, removal of hat at, . payment, etiquette of, . see also: debts. peas, how to eat, . personal letters, . persons of rank. see: rank, persons of. pew cards, - , . photographs of engaged couples in newspapers, . picnics, , , . pits, management of, at table, . place cards, , . plates, , - , . politeness to servants, - . political clubs, . politics, etiquette of, - . position in the community, ; chapter on, - . precedence, , - , - , - . presentation at court, - . "present," when used in introductions, . president of the united states, close of letter to, , , ; as a guest, , ; how to address, ; introduction of and to, , , . priest, - . private affairs, conversation about, . private car, guests on, . private secretary, . pronunciation, - . public places, , , chapter on, - . punctuality, , - . pusher, nursery, . . rabbi, - . rank, persons of, how to announce as guests, - ; how to address, , ; how to introduce, , ; close of letter to, - . reading at table, . ready-to-wear clothes, , . receptions, , , , . recommendation, letters of, - . referring to husband or wife in conversation, . regard for others, rules of, . registering at a hotel, , - . rehearsal of a wedding, - . restaurants, clothes in, , ; dinner in before the theater, ; engaged couples in, ; headdress in, ; payment in, ; rising in to greet a lady, ; young girl in, . riding clothes, - . rings, , ; engagement, - , ; wedding, , , . rising, to a lady, - ; to relatives, ; from table, . royalty, how to address, ; letters to, ; presentation to, , - . salutations, ; chapter on, - . seating, at an afternoon tea, , ; at a ball supper, ; in drawing-room, - ; at a formal dinner, , - , , - ; at a funeral in church, ; at an informal dinner, ; in an opera box, - ; at a wedding in church, - ; in a steamer dining-salon, - ; at the theater, - ; in vehicles, - ; of children at table, . second marriage, - , - . secretary, - , . self-introduction, , . senator, , , - . servants, - , - ; attitude to, - , ; at formal dinner, ; in country house, - , - . service, in country house guest room, - ; in the well-appointed house, - ; dinner, - , - . serving table, - . serving tea, - , - . setting the table, - , . shaking hands, - ; at an afternoon tea, ; at a formal dinner, ; on a visit, ; at a wedding, - ; when introduced, - , , . shirt, , , . shirt studs, , , . shirt waist, , , . shoes, , , , , , , . shops, etiquette in, . sickness. see: invalids. signature of a letter, - . silk hat, , . silver, - . sitting up with the deceased, . sitting down at the table, . skirt, , , , , , . slang, . sleeping arrangements in country house, . slippers, , . smart society, . smoking, , , , , - , , . social letters, - , - . social position. see: position in the community. society, best, chapter on, - ; definition of, ; smart, . speech, . speaking to a lady, - . spoon, ; use of, , . sports clothes, . sports clubs, . stag dinner, . stand-up luncheons, , . steamer etiquette, - . stores, etiquette in, , . story telling, . strangers, cards left with, ; invitations for, , ; social position of, - ; visits, - , , ; at afternoon tea, . street, chapter on the, - . street car etiquette, - . street clothes, . subscription dances, - . summer dress, , . sunburn, dress for women who mind, - . superscription in letters, , . supper, ; at a ball, - ; at a cabaret, ; after theater, . table, dinner, , ; luncheon, - ; supper, ; tea, - . table furnishings, , ; hostess, - ; manners, - , - ; setting, - , - , . tail coat, . taking leave. see: leave taking. tea gown, . teas, chapter on, - ; clothes for, , , ; invitations to, , ; bachelor's, ; children's, - . telephone, invitation by, - , - , . tennis, . thanks, cards of, ; letters of, , . theater, , - , , , , - . third person in correspondence, - . tickets for theater, opera, etc., - , . tie, gentleman's, , - , , - , , - . tips, in a hotel, ; to servants, - ; on steamboats, - . titled foreigners, , , - . titles, , - ; on visiting cards, - . topics of conversation, , - . train card, . train of a dress, . trains, railway, , - , . traveling, chapter on, - . see also specific subjects, e.g.: young girl, traveling of. traveling clothes, , . trousers, , , , , - , , . trousseau, - , - . tuxedo, , - , , . uniforms of servants, - . ushers, at a ball, ; at a wedding, , - , , - , , - , , . valet, , , - , - , . vegetables, how to eat, . vehicles, - ; at a formal dinner, - , ; at a funeral, - ; at the opera, ; at the theater, ; at a wedding, - . veil, , ; bridal, - ; mourning, - . vice-president of the united states, close of letter to, , ; how to address, ; how to announce as a guest, ; how to introduce, . visits, , - , - , ; chapter on, - . see also specific subjects, e.g.: engaged couples, visits of. visiting cards. see: cards. vulgar woman, the, . . waistcoat, , , , , , - . walking, across a ballroom, - ; down the aisle of a theater, ; with a lady, . watch chain, . wealth, display of, . wedding anniversaries, , - ; announcements, - ; breakfast, - ; ceremony, - ; day, chapter on, - ; dress, - ; expenses, , , - , - ; list, - , pictures, ; preparations, - ; - ; presents, , - , - ; trip, - , - . weddings, , ; clothes for, - , - , , - ; guest rooms at, ; invitations to, - , ; - . see also: bride; bridegroom; and other specific subjects. white blossoms at second marriage, . widow, , , , . wife. see: husband and wife. woman's clubs, , - . words and phrases, correct usage of, - . writing paper, - . written invitations, . , . . yacht, guests on, . young couples, , . young girl, - ; guest room for, ; letters of, - ; traveling of, - , - . young person, introduction of to older, ; greetings of to older, . skin, inflammation of the skin, inflammation of the (herb remedies) skinner's dandruff cure sleep sleeplessness sleeplessness (herb remedies} , , smallpox, diagnosis of smallpox causes symptoms eruptions confluent form varioloid treatment diet nursing general rule for disinfection hands, body, etc vaccination and re-vaccination and its prevention of smallpox a good time to be vaccinated why vaccinate? smallpox entirely prevented by re-vaccination who should be vaccinated who should not be vaccinated when should a person be vaccinated? vaccination after exposure to smallpox with what should one be vaccinated? where vaccination should be performed? after vaccination common appearances after vaccination what to do during and after vaccination? make a record of your vaccination? lives saved from smallpox in michigan smith's electric oil smooth tonsilitis, diagnosis of snake bites symptoms of a snake bite treatment first thing to do mothers' remedies (unclassified) . simple poultice for . onions and salt for snake bite (herb remedies) soda (medical use) salt water bath, tonic action softening of the brain soft diet soothing syrup, overdose of sore eyes (rare prescription) , mothers' remedies (unclassified) . camphor and breast milk for sore mouth, canker sore mouth, canker (herb remedies) , , , sore throat symptoms chronic prevention of the chronic kind prevention of the acute kind mothers' remedies . used for years successfully . splendid liniment for . simple gargle for . home made salve for . cold packs sure cure for . ointment for . remedy from a mother in johnson city, tenn . gargle and application for . vinegar gargle for . alum and vinegar for . kerosene for . remedy always at hand . simple remedy for physicians' treatment for sore throat . inhalation of steam . sulphur and cream for . good old mothers' remedies . physicians' local treatment . when the attack is mild . i like the following at the beginning . for chronic catarrh . other gargles . snuff mothers' remedies (unclassified) . mustard plaster for sore throat (herb remedies) , , , , sore throat (rare prescription) sores or ulcers sores or ulcers (herb remedies) , , , , , , southern cholera cure spasms , spasms (herb remedies) , spasmodic asthma spasm of the glottis special diseases spice plaster spice poultice spice poultice from a stanlyton, va., mother [ mothers' remedies] spinal cord, injuries of causes symptoms treatment traumatism of the cord symptoms recovery treatment, immediate spinal cord, organic diseases of spine, concussion of the splinters splinter, to extract splints spoiled foods, poison by sponge bath spots, liver spotted fever, diagnosis of sprains sprains (herb remedies) squint internal or convergent squint external or divergent squint causes of convergent (internal) squint treatment external (divergent squint) squint, operation for stab wounds stammering mothers' remedies . easy cure for mothers' remedies (unclassified) . canadian mother's treatment for physicians' treatment starch bath starch and laudanum starch poultice steatoma sterilization sterilized milk sterilizing, a simple method of stiff neck stimulant (herb remedies) stings mothers' remedies . leaves of geranium good for bee or wasp . simple remedy for mothers' remedies (unclassified) . old tried canadian remedy for . from nettles stings (herb remedies) , stomach, bleeding from stomach, cancer of the , stomach headache stomach, neuralgia of the stomach, operation for stomach, acute inflammation of the stomach trouble stomach trouble (herb remedies) , , stomach, diagnosis of ulcer of the stomatitis aphthous stomatitis, gangrenous strabismus strychnine, poison by stye causes symptoms course mothers' remedies . home method to kill mothers' remedies (unclassified) . common tea leaves for treatment suffocated, treatment of sugar, kind to use sulphuric acid, poison by sulphur (medical use) summer complaint, prepared flour for sunburn mothers' remedies . lemon juice and vinegar for . ammonia water for . relief from pain and smarting of . preparation for physicians' treatment . for sunburn . for sunburn . the following is a good combination sunstrokes symptoms prognosis mothers' remedies . quick method to relieve treatment for severe cases medicine sunstrokes and intoxicants (chapter) superficial felons suppurative tonsilitis sweating, to cause (herb remedies) , , mothers' remedies (unclassified) . sweating, to cause . another sweating, excessive symptoms causes treatment application for the local treatment white oak bark for sweating, excessive (herb remedies) , , sweating, foul symptoms mothers' remedies . alum water for . borax and alcohol for . simple home remedy for physicians' treatment . dressing powders . boric acid, powdered, may also be used . dusting powder . one per cent solution sweat, lessened secretion of sweats, night swellings (herb remedies) , swelling of the glottis symptoms sympathetic inflammation of the eye sympathetic ophthalmia syphilis syphilis (herb remedies) , , , , , , syrup of figs table taenia saginata taenia solium talipes tape worm tape worm (rare prescription) tapioca jelly tartar emetic, poison by taste taste buds taste buds, plate of teeth teething , tegumentary (skin) leprosy temperature (fever) under the tongue, arm-pit temperature of the room tetanus tetter, dry [medical index ] tetter, humid things in the ear things in the nose thomas's electric oil thread worm throat, sore throat, sore (herb remedies) , , , , , , , thrush thumb, dislocation thyroid gland, diseases of symptoms treatment thyroiditis tic doloureux tickling in throat tinea trichophytina tobacco, poison by toe-nail, ingrowing tongue, the ulcers high fever dark brown or blackish coating strawberry tongue cankered tongue cholera infantum constipation biliousness tonic (herb remedies) , , , , , tonic, general (rare prescription) tonsilitis, diagnosis of tonsilitis, acute follicular, inflammation of causes symptoms diagnosis between acute tonsilitis and diphtheria mothers' remedies . raw onion for . peppermint oil good for . borax water for . salt and pepper with relieve . peroxide of hydrogen will cure . a remedy effective for physicians' treatment for tonsilitis . home treatment . smartweed . salt pork for . liniment . internally . hot water . thyme . steaming with compound tincture of benzoin . for the pain . medicines, parke, davis & co., anti-tonsilitis tablet no. is very good . aspirin . dr. hare of philadelphia tonsilitis, suppurative tonsils, operation for tonsil, pharyngeal toothache mothers' remedies . dry salt and alum for . oil of cloves quick relief for . home made poultice for . clove oil and chloroform . sure cure for . salt and alum water for . oil of cinnamon for . reliable remedy for . from decoyed teeth mothers' remedies (unclassified) . benzoin for . oil of cinnamon for physicians' treatment toothache (herb remedies) toothache (rare prescription) tooth powders mothers' tooth powders . the ashes of burnt grape vine . tooth powder . tooth powder . tooth powder . tooth wash . commonly used torticollis tracheotomy and intubation, operation for traumatism of the cord symptoms recovery treatment, immediate tremens, delirium trichiniasis modes of infection symptoms physicians' treatment tricuspid stenosis (narrowing) recovery treatment: (a) while compensated (b) the stage of broken compensation tricuspid (valve) insufficiency cause trifacial neuralgia tub bath (common) tuberculosis of the lungs, diagnosis of tuberculosis forms-the lungs ordinary consumption . acute miliary tuberculosis (a) acute general miliary tuberculosis (b) pulmonary (lung) type (c) tubercular meningitis . tuberculosis of the lymph nodes (glands) . tuberculous pleurisy . tuberculous pericarditis . tuberculous peritonitis . tuberculosis of the larynx . acute pneumonia (pulmonary tuberculosis) or galloping consumption . chronic ulcerative pulmonary tuberculosis . chronic miliary tuberculosis . tuberculosis of the alimentary canal . tuberculosis of the brain . tuberculosis of the liver, kidneys, bladder, etc . tuberculosis of joints mesenteric kind mothers' remedies . simple home method to break up . physicians' treatment physicians' treatment for consumption sanitary prevention of tuberculosis second individual prevention general measures at home diet-treatment diet in tuberculosis furnished by a hospital may take must not take what every person should know about tuberculosis, whether he has had the disease or not tuberculosis (herb remedies) tuberculosis patients, how to treat the sputum from tuberculosis, cervical [ mothers' remedies] tuberculated leprosy tubercular meningitis tubercular peritonitis tuberculous tumors tumors a benign tumor a malignant tumor some varieties malignant sarcoma (sarcomata) diagnosis treatment tumors (herb remedies) , , tumors of the brain causes-predisposing gumma tuberculous tumors glioma sarcoma and cancer symptoms treatment for headache for vomiting tumor of the nose turpentine (medical use) turpentine and mustard stupes turpentine stupes typhoid fever, diagnosis of typhoid fever cause symptoms time incubation first week second week third week fourth week special symptoms and variations walking type digestive symptoms diarrhea perforation of the bowel treatment prevention sanitary care sanitary care of the household articles diet and nursing in typhoid fever cold sponging the bath medical treatment management of the convalescent typhus fever symptoms eruptions fever treatment like typhoid ulcers causes treatment chronic ulcer mothers' remedies . the potato lotion for . chickweed ointment for . healing ointment for . excellent salve for . an old german remedy for . an antiseptic wash for . chickweed and wood sage poultice for . blood root and sweet nitre for . a good combination for . a four ingredient remedy for . carrots will heal . a remedy that cures . bread and indian meal for physicians' treatment for ulcers balsam of peru is good for a salve poultice indolent sluggish ulcer poultice for ulcers (herb remedies) , , , , , , ulcer of the cornea, diagnosis of ulcer of the cornea ulcer of the stomach, diagnosis of ulcer of the stomach and duodenum symptoms physicians' treatment . rest . feed by the rectum uraemia, acute uraemia, acute (herb remedies) uraemia, chronic uraemia, toxaemia urethritis urethritis (herb remedies) urinary passage mothers' remedies . dandelion root win clean urinary passage (herb remedies) , , , , urine, blood in the urine, scalding (herb remedies) urticaria uterus, cancer of the vaccination symptoms vagina, the vaginal douche, for cleansing the vagina, inflammation of vaginismus vaginitis van buskirk's fragrant sozodont vanilla snow varicella varicose veins predisposing causes exciting causes physicians' treatment palliative varicose veins (herb remedies) variola varix vaselin (medical use) venereal diseases ventilation verucca vestibule, the vinegar (medical use) vomiting mothers' remedies . spice poultice to stop . mustard plaster to stop . parched corn, drink to stop . peppermint application for . mustard and water for . warm water for physicians' treatment . for vomiting . for nervous vomiting . a little brandy . oil of cloves . lime water . vinegar fumes . seidlitz powder . mustard plaster . one-tenth drop of ipecac . one-half drop of fowler's solution vomiting (herb remedies) , , vulva, cysts of vulva, inflammation of vulva, itching of vulvitis [medical index ] warm baths ( to f.) wart mothers' remedies . an application for . match and turpentine for . muriate of ammonia for . turpentine for . warts, to remove . milkweed removes . for warts warts (herb remedies) , watt's anti-rheumatic pills weak back mothers' remedies (unclassified) . liniment for . turpentine, and sweet oil for weaning wen treatment wet cupping whites, the white's cough syrup white swelling whitlow whole wheat bread whooping cough, diagnosis of whooping cough symptoms the first stage spasmodic or second stage stage of the decline complications diagnosis mortality mothers' remedies . chestnut leaves for . chestnut leaves and cream for . mrs. warren's . raspberry tincture for physicians' treatment for whooping cough medical treatment . good powder . tincture of aconite . the best treatment diet whooping cough (herb remedies) , whooping cough (rare prescription) wine of antimony (poison by) wind-pipe, bleeding from woman's department abortion (accidents of pregnancy) causes causes--due to the father--paternal foetal causes symptoms threatened abortion inevitable abortion treatment--preventive treatment of threatened abortion treatment of the inevitable abortion placenta praevia treatment amenorrhea causes symptoms treatment bleeding after delivery breast broken, abscess breasts, care of breasts, inflammation of abscess, broken breast treatment-preventive mothers' remedies for sore breasts . a never failing remedy for . an herb treatment for . a hot poultice for . fresh hops for . a poultice of peach leaves for mothers' remedies for sore nipples . a good wash for . a good family ointment for cervix, diseases of tear of the cervix (laceration) causes symptoms, immediate and remote remote symptoms treatment cervix, inflammation of the cause symptoms treatment cervix, tear of childbirth clitoris, the convulsions (eclampsia) treatment criminal abortion cystocele causes symptoms treatment diseases of women, causes of menstruation dress prevention of conception criminal abortion childbirth venereal diseases dress dysmenorrhea eclampsia endometritis endometritis, putrid symptoms treatment diet endometritis, septic, puerperal symptoms treatment fallopian tubes, diseases of fallopian tubes, inflammation of fibromata genital organs, female, anatomy of glands of bartholin, the hemorrhage, post-partum (bleeding after delivery) causes symptoms treatment pulse and temperature treatment diet hymen, the labia majora, the labia minora, the labor premonitory signs of labor stages of labor the first stage second stage third stage management of labor preparation of the bed preparation of the patient examination of the patient management of the second stage dr. manton, of detroit, says: management of the third stage the child another method the mother rest after-pains [ mothers' remedies] the bladder the bowels leucorrhea (the whites) causes from a torn cervix in inflammation of the canal of the cervix inflammation of the body of the womb if the inflammation is caused by gonorrhea symptoms mothers' remedies . slippery elm for . glycerin for . common tea for . witch-hazel for . white oak bark for . a good herb remedy for . common vinegar for . an easily prepared remedy for . home-made suppositories for . a good home remedy for . a new york doctor's remedy for physicians' treatment local . one ounce of white oak bark . tannic acid and glycerin . lloyd's golden seal . this combination gives good service . witch-hazel in warm water . many other simple remedies lochia, the diet menorrhagia causes local causes symptoms physicians' treatment for profuse menstruation . an easily prepared remedy for . in young girls . blaud's pills will do well . if the appetite is poor . tincture of nux vomica . golden seal root . oil of erigeron or flea-bane . oil of cinnamon . cranesbill (geranium maculatum) menopause (change of life) symptoms mothers' remedies . a useful herb remedy for . an old tried remedy for . good advice from an experienced mother physicians' treatment menstruation menstruation, delayed causes mothers' remedies, obstruction of monthly flow . an herb remedy for . smartweed for menstruation, difficult causes symptoms mothers' remedies for painful menstruation . a good tonic for . a home remedy for physicians' treatment . for the attack . if the patient's nervous system is run down . fluid extract of blue cohosh . tincture of pulsatilla . tincture of cocculus menstruation, premature treatment menstruation, vicarious (in place of) midwifery, or obstetrics milk leg symptoms treatment diet miscarriage mons veneris obstetrics, or midwifery small bodies the embryo or impregnated egg development of the different months first month second month third month fourth month fifth month sixth month seventh month eighth month ninth month nausea and vomiting breasts bladder abdominal changes pigmentation quickening the blood nervous system constipation is the rule the foetal heart-beat pelvic signs duration of pregnancy how to determine date of confinement position of the womb twins sex diagnosis hygiene of pregnancy clothing food bathing the bowels and bladder exercise, rest and sleep the vagina the breasts and nipples nervous system disorders of pregnancy mothers' remedies . a great aid for . nausea of pregnancy, menthol and sweet oil for . bouillon or broth for . indigestion and heartburn teeth constipation difficult breathing varicose veins and piles piles albumin in the urine (albuminuria) treatment organs of generation, the internal ovaries, the ovary, diseases of ovaries, inflammation of the causes symptoms treatment physicians' treatment ovaries, tumors of the symptoms treatment ovaritis pelvis, the placenta praevia pregnancy, accidents of premature labor (accidents of pregnancy) [medical index ] prevention of conception pruritis rectocele causes symptoms treatment salpingitis causes symptoms the symptoms of the chronic variety treatment of the acute kind for the chronic variety vagina, the vagina, inflammation of varieties . catarrhal or simple form . granular . gonorrheal form . diphtheritic . senile type symptoms treatment (in acute cases) in chronic cases vaginismus treatment vaginitis venereal diseases vestibule, the vulva, cyst of cause symptoms condition treatment vulva, inflammation of the causes other causes in infants symptoms and condition of the parts treatment . if there is much pain . for chronic form vulva, itching of the causes parts irritable symptoms treatment local vulvitis whites, the womb, cancer of the body of treatment womb, displacements causes symptoms treatment operations womb, falling or prolapse of for the incomplete falling for the complete falling mothers' remedies . unicorn root for . a fine herb combination for . a physician's treatment for . a never-failing remedy for . white oak bark for womb, fibroid tumors of . interstitial . sub-mucus (under the mucous membrane) . sub-peritoneal causes symptoms mothers' remedy . common wood cactus for treatment symptoms calling for an operation womb, inflammation of the lining of the causes acute variety gonorrheal variety, symptoms mothers' remedy . a good tonic for physicians' treatment womb, malignant diseases of causes symptoms treatment womb, subinvolution causes symptoms results treatment womb, bleeding from the (herb remedies) , , womb, cancer of the body of womb, displacements of womb, falling or prolapse womb, fibroid tumors of womb headache womb, inflammation of the lining of womb, malignant disease of womb, subinvolution wool sorters' disease worms, flesh worms, pin worm, round symptoms mothers' remedies . sage tea for . tansy remedy for . peach leaf tea for physicians' treatment . dr. osler of oxford, england, recommends as follows . dr. ritter's santonin remedy . dr. douglas, of detroit, michigan . the following is from professor stille worm, round (herb remedies) , , worm, tape symptoms treatment, preventive mothers' remedies . pumpkin seed tea for . another good remedy for . ontario mothers' remedy for . successful remedy for children or adults physicians' treatment preparing the patient giving the remedy and receiving the worm . light diet . pelletierine remedy for . infusion and emulsion for . an old-time remedy for worm, thread mothers' remedies . aloes treatment for . pink root for . quassia chips for . lime water injection for . salt water remedy for physicians' treatment . santonin in small doses and mild purgative like rhubarb . santonin for . dr. tooker of chicago, illinois . dr. tooker gives another method . another remedy for . spearmint treatment for . internal treatment for . tincture of cina, to accompany injection [ mothers' remedies] worm, thread (herb remedies) , , wounds wounds, punctured wounds, rusty nail wounds, stab wounds, torn wounds, torn (herb remedies) , , writer's cramp causes symptoms recovery physicians' treatment wry neck yeast poultice yellow fever index to manners and social customs including pages to manners' and social customs afternoon wear incongruity in dress appropriate dress for women bachelor hospitality bachelor and the chaperon, the cheaper ways of entertaining bachelor's chafing dish, the village society, in should he offer his arm? the outside of the walk minor matters of men's etiquette cards and calls bad habits car fare question, the balls, the etiquette of calls, the etiquette of time and manner men's demeanor "pour prendre conge" girls' manners first calls calls after wedding card, calling, etiquette for women a general rule after social functions after absence for men letters of introduction at a hotel styles in cards uses of names carriage etiquette minor items children's parties games supper games for older children christening ceremonies ceremony, the sponsors church christenings church etiquette friendly advances demeanor civility in public rude tourists telephone etiquette concerning introductions women and introductions when calling general introductions men and introductions a few things not to do in company school girls' etiquette cook's work, the should understand duties nurse, the debutante, the a grave mistake her dress if not a belle decollette gowns are worn when? wearing the hat ornaments debutante's dress, the dressing on modest allowance dinner, the informal family dinners requirements setting the table dinners and luncheons formal dinners serving the dinner the help required precedence be prompt dress for elderly women suitable, the duties of a chaperon mothers as chaperons chaperon's lot not easy chaperon a social help chaperon of the motherless girl, the avoid espionage girls and the chaperon, the chaperon in middle class society, the duties and dress of servants maid, the one instructing the maid maid's serving, the duties of waitress and cook engagements, announcement of how disclosed after the announcement girl's behavior, the length of engagement breaking off wedding trousseau, the engagements, concerning parental wishes entertainments, at small card parties at the party etiquette for children first lessons etiquette of correspondence, the essentials, the letter forms abbreviations what not to do placing the stamps [ manners and social customs ] when to write care in writing keeping letters letters of congratulation and condolence etiquette of dress, the garden parties refreshments guests, what is expected of the dress at week-end visits men's wear guests, the obligations of about being thoughtful outside acquaintance other points to observe concerning departure at home again hat, the etiquette of the coachman's salute, the hat, when to raise the at other times hat and coat when calling home wedding, the correct attire after the wedding wedding gifts what to give acknowledgments wedding decorations hospitality in the home real hospitality short visits the unexpected visit the inopportune arrival visits that save expense hostess, the duties of the visitors' comfort preparing for company the hostess's invitations the visitor's entertainments invitations invitations, formulas for replies must not ask invitations other particulars informal invitations afternoon tea the verbal invitation luncheons formal luncheons minor particulars large luncheons manners for men value of courtesy manners of the gentleman, the training, a matter of politeness an armor manners and social customs importance of knowledge a matter of habit men's dress mourning garments expense of mourning, the mourning wear period of mourning, the french mourning mourning for men duties of friends, the mourning etiquette funerals, conduct of undertaker, the duties of the next friend, the house funeral, the church funerals flowers neighborhood etiquette borrowing receptions receiving decorations rules for precedence smoking, about smoke, where not to expectoration, about social affairs, the young girl's girl and the chaperon girl and the young men, the about gifts telephone, the speech, good form in use of slang and colloquialisms form of address courtesy of conversation "stag" dinners subjects of conversation discourtesies some things to avoid the speaking voice summary table etiquette at the table using the fork vegetables, fruits, etc the spoon finger bowls tea, the musical and informal visiting etiquette for girls deference to age wedding-anniversaries wedding, the silver wedding, the golden weddings, the courtesies of the occasion, the gifts wedding festivities engagement "showers" how presented refreshments wedding invitations and announcements correct form the bridegroom's family other items wedding preparations the expense of the wedding bride's privileges, the who pays? wedding gown, the, later wear of the wedding gown bridal flowers widow's bridal attire man's wedding garments, the bride's mother, the church wedding, the formal bride's father, the another form best man's duties, the duties of the ushers wedding reception, the refreshments going away weddings, the simplest of week-end visits invitation, the amusements hostess's arrangements young girls' parties birthday party [ mothers' remedies] miscellaneous index pages to including chapters on "beauty and the toilet," "nursery hints and fireside gems," "domestic science," "canning and pickling," "candy" "general miscellaneous" and "glossary" acid or lye, burns from account book, kitchen "affection" (quotation) "after the burial," from lowell "all girls and boys" (quotation) almonds, salted ants, troubled with apples, the quickest way to core awkwardness due to eyes baby, amusing "baby-class tree, the" (poem) baby's fine dresses baby's kimona baby's layette baby's meals baby's nerves baby's nose baby's outing baby's petticoats baby, pretty things for "baby's purpose" (quotation) baby (quotations) , baby, rather hard on baby's sleeves baby's veil baking, apples cored for baking dishes, discolored china baking help "barefoot boy" (quotation) barefoot, going basting thread, to save bathing the baby, hints for bathrobe, a bathtub, folding beauty and the toilet "be discreet" (quotation) bed sheeting bed time beef, creamed beef-tea, preparing, a way of bindings, book with delicate black ants, how to kill blacking, soap with stove blackheads blankets, to remove stains from blankets, to wash white woolen bowl, finger boy's garments "boys" (quotation) bread, to freshen breakfast food, cooking breakfast food, to open packages broom bags broom, how to preserve the household bruise or cut, for brush, to sweep stairs with paint bunions bureau drawers that stick buttons for future use buttonhole, to make a neat buttons, sewing on cake tins, greasing cake tins, non-sticking cake tins, to prevent sticking canary seed, to keep mice away from candle grease, to remove candle grease, to take out of linen candles, to keep in warm weather candy making candy making at home chocolate candy, plain chocolate candies , chocolate caramels chocolate fudge chocolate nut caramels chocolate peppermint wafers chocolate creams chocolate creams, no. cocoanut caramels cocoanut cream bars cocoanut snow balls confectioners' and common candy cream dates crystallized fruits bonbons, making the butter scotch flavor and color fondant, french or boiled fondant, making the hints, a few hoarhound candy maple balls maple candies maple creams, no. maple creams marron glaces marshmallows molasses candies molasses taffy molasses taffy no. nougat nut bars nut loaf other candies peanut candy popcorn baskets popcorn candy sour drops school girl's delight stick candy sugar, boiling the wafers canning apples apples and quinces apple sauce butter, apple canning fruits, table for corn grapes peaches peaches, brandy [ mothers' remedies] flowers, wild fly paper stains, to remove fondue, cheese food, scorched forbearance (quotation) forming habits foulard dress, have you been hoarding? four things (quotation) freckles freshen nuts, how to friendship (quotation) friends, making (quotation) fruit after cutting, to keep grape fruit cans, when the top cannot be removed fruit stains, to remove from the hands furniture brush, a serviceable furniture, clean gilt furniture, paint wicker furniture polish, a good furniture, to remove white marks on furniture, to wash gas, how to economize on gas, save the gilded surfaces, to clean gilt frames, cleaning gingham apron for the housewife glass, paint that sticks to gloss, to give starch a glass stopper, how to remove gloves, to clean kid gnawing holes, if the mice are gowns, afternoon gravies, making gray hair grease from silk, to remove grease, to take out wagon greatness of love, the (quotation) hair, the hair, care of the hair, clipping the hair, color of the hair, dyed hair brushes, washing hair, gray hair and health hair tonic, a hair, washing the hands, the hand churn, small handkerchiefs, uses for men's old silk hands and nose, red hangers, hat harsh commands health as an aid to beauty hem, putting in a temporary hemstitching hems of table linen, to turn easily and accurately hints, house-cleaning homes, summer honesty (quotation) hot water bottle, to preserve house account, keeping a house, a spotless household, a convenience for household, a handy disinfectant for the house key, how to carry housekeeping, systematic housewife, hints for the housewife, systematic, a human face, the (quotation) ice box, borax as a purifier for idleness (quotation) indulgence intemperance (quotation) ironing day, conveniences for ironing board, conveniences for iron holders made from asbestos iron rust, to remove iron sink, to keep in good condition jams and jellies apple blackberry jam blackberry crab apple cranberry gooseberry jam grape orange marmalade peach plum and apple jam raspberry jams rhubarb rhubarb and apple spiced grape strawberry and red currant jam tomato marmalade jams and jellies (domestic science method) glasses for jelly, to prepare jelly glasses, to cover jelly bag, to make good fruits for making jelly general directions for making jelly apple jelly barberry jelly crab apple jelly currant jelly grape jam grape jelly quince jelly raspberry jam raspberry jelly strawberry jam keep dainties away from the beginning kerosene lamps, paint smoked from kettles, burned kitchen apron kitchen apron, how to attach holder to kitchen apron, making a kitchen, convenient addition to kitchen, drop table for kitchen, a useful article in lace, sewing laces, to wash lamp burners, to clean lamps, kerosene lap-board, when using last step, the laugh, the value of (quotation) learning to sew learning wisdom (quotation) leather furniture, clean lemons, how to obtain more juice lemons, washing life (quotation) linen collars, use of old linen, to make easier to write on linoleum, clean linoleum or oilcloth that is cracked little minds liquid whiteners living room, attractive long seams, basting love (quotation) love, the two symptoms of lunches, putting up maidenhood (quotation) [miscellaneous index ] machine grease, to remove market, going to marmalades and butters (domestic science method) apple crab apple peach pineapple rhubarb marred, if tour paint has been massage matrimony, cares of (quotation) meals, airing house after meals, cheerfulness at , meat, broiling meat, the color should be meat, larding a piece of medicine cupboard medical dictionary medicine (quotation) method methods of cooking eggs mildew, to remove milk vessels, never pour scalding water into mittens, kitchen moulding by circumstances (quotation) moulding, to prevent fruits from mop handles, uses of money to children mother (quotation) motherhood moths moths in carpet mould, to keep free from mouth breathing mouth and teeth muddy skirt, to make wash easily mud stains, to remove music, to pack mutton chops, to make tender mysterious future, the (quotation) nails, care of the finger nail powder implements the process nails, ingrowing nail powder, finger needles, for broken needle holder, a needle sharpener needles, threading nicknames (quotation) night petticoats night lamp, a new noon of life, the (quotation) now or never (quotation) nursery nursery hints' and fireside gems obedience oil cloth, buying a new old velvet, uses for oranges as medicine oven, after cake is removed from oysters, creamed oysters, raw paint and varnish, cleaning pancakes, sour milk pantry, closed cupboards in the peaches, left over pea-pods, uses for peas cooking petticoats, children petticoat, making over a heatherbloom petticoats, making children's piano keys, to clean pickles beet blackberries, mothers' brocoli cabbage cantelope, sweet catsup, aunt mary's catsup, grape catsup, gooseberry catsup, pepper catsup, tomato cauliflower celery sauce, mother used to make cherries chili sauce , cucumber, ripe cucumber, sliced currants, spiced dill pickles, grandmother's grapes, spiced green beans green tomato mustard , oyster catsup peaches, sweet pears, ginger pickles, bottled pickles, mustard pickles, mixed pickles, spanish pickles, sweet mixed prunes, sweet relish, corn relish, tomato sauce, green tomato, for meats or fish soye tomato spiced vinegar for pickles tomato tomato, green , tomato relish pickles (domestic science method) chili sauce cucumber, sweet olive oil pickles pickled pears or peaches, sweet tomato, green picnic supplies pie crust, how to make pillows, to air pillow slips, changing pillows, separate night and day pimples pinafore, the pineapple, to preserve pincushion, a brick pitchers, to prevent dripping plaster-of-paris, to clean playground for boys plaited skirt, pressing a poison bottle, to mark poison, let the bottle tinkle politics and veracity (quotation) pomades, use of potatoes, to improve baked potatoes, boiled potatoes, browning powder, to use praying of a child (poem) preserves apple apricot brandied peaches cherries citron [ mothers' remedies] citron and quince fig and rhubarb grape lemon butter peaches pear , , pear chip pineapple purple plums quinces raspberry and currant rhubarb spiced currant spiced gooseberries spiced grapes spiced peaches strawberry , , tomato princess skirt progress (quotation) prominent ear pudding, steaming or boiling purses, old suitcases and putty, to remove quilts, hanging out quilts, washing rarebit, welsh ravelings, a use for reading (quotation) reasoning versus punishment red ant, to destroy rice, boiling roaches, to exterminate rock me to sleep (quotation) romper, the rouge rubber, to mend ruffle easily, to rugs, to clean light rugs, cleaning rule, a good (quotation) rust, charcoal to prevent sacks, a use for salad, delicious salted almonds sanitary care of baby' bottles sanitary drinking cups saw, toy scallops, to mark schooling, early (quotation) screens, putting a way scrub bucket, convenient scrub bucket leaks, when the scrubbing brush, the care of scrubbing tender faces seam, stitching down securing covering at night selfishness (quotation) sewing machine, after cleaning the sewing machine, conveniences sewing room, a hint sewing, to save time by sewing, time saved in sheets, to hold in place shelves for cupboard shoes, children's, to save shoe cover, a shoe polisher, a satisfactory shortcake, meat sickness, in case of sieve, to clean silence (quotation) silk gloves, to preserve silk, grease stains on silk, using on the machine silverware, cleaning silver, to clean skins of tomatoes, to remove quickly skirts, to press soap shaker, home-made soft soap, to make song of long ago, a (quotation) songs and story-telling souring, to keep bread from spoon, uses of a wooden sprinkling clothes, new method stains, old perspiration stains, removing stained water bottles, to make clean stale bread, uses for starch, to prevent from boiling over stews and hash, how to make stilletto, convenient place for stocking tops, for convenient holders stockings from wearing out, to prevent stoves, cleaning stove, the easiest way to blacken suits, wash sunburn sweaters sweeping as a beautifier sweeping brush, cleaning the system (quotation) tablecloths, to prevent from blowing off table linen, mending , table linen, a neat way to hem table linen, fruit stains on table, preparing oranges for the table, to prevent marks on the tomato, hollowing out a tangled threads, to remove tarnished brass, to wash tea and coffee tears, banish tears (quotation) teeth, children's teeth, cleansing the teeth second temperature of the nursery tinware rusting, to prevent tireless talkers (quotation) toast, curried toaster, a good substitute for a tomato, curry of tooth powder tough meat, to make tender towels, loops on towels, tea toy, children's toys, discarded training (quotation) tub, galvanized tub for the playroom tufted furniture, for underclothing, hemstitching undergarments (infants) unique table protector unselfishness vegetables, boiling vegetable, chestnuts as vegetables, to make tender vegetables, to restore freshness to veils, washing "village blacksmith," from longfellow's vinegar, for clearing vinegar, to give a nice flavor wall paper, light colored water pipes in the kitchen wedding celebrations [miscellaneous index ] welsh rarebit whisks, worn brooms or white dress, if turned yellow white fabric, to remove dust from white spots caused by dishes, to remove wholesome pleasures wild flowers windows, cleaning in winter windows, for closing window, sanitary screen windows, washing wood berries, bright, may be preserved wood floors, soft to paint wood work, old, to keep clean wood work, to wash grained woolen clothing, cleaning black woolens, washing fine wringer rollers, renewing wrinkles wrinkled hands zweiback noodles a star book how to write letters (formerly the book of letters) _a complete guide to correct business and personal correspondence_ by mary owens crowther garden city publishing company, inc. new york cl copyright, , by doubleday, page & company all rights reserved printed in the united states at the country life press, garden city, n. y. acknowledgments the forms for engraved invitations, announcements, and the like, and the styles of notepapers, addresses, monograms, and crests are by courtesy of the bailey, banks and biddle company, brentano's, and the gorham company. the western union telegraph company has been very helpful in the chapter on telegrams. contents page chapter i what is a letter? chapter ii the purpose of the letter chapter iii the parts of a letter . the heading . the inside address . the salutation . the body of the letter . the complimentary close . the signature . the superscription chapter iv being appropriate--what to avoid common offenses stock phrases in business letters chapter v personal letters--social and friendly invitations and acknowledgments the letter of condolence letters of sympathy in case of illness letters of congratulation letters of introduction letters of thanks letters between friends chapter vi personal business letters chapter vii the business letter sales and announcement letters keeping the customer selling real estate bank letters letters of order and acknowledgment letters of complaint and adjustment credit and collection letters letters of application letters of reference letters of introduction letters of inquiry chapter viii the use of form paragraphs chapter ix children's letters chapter x telegrams chapter xi the law of letters chapter xii the cost of a letter chapter xiii stationery, crests and monograms list of text illustrations page in the business letterhead appear the name of the firm, its address, and the kind of business engaged in letterheads used by a life insurance company, a law firm, and three associations in the case of widely known firms, or where the name of the firm itself indicates it, reference to the nature of the business is often omitted from letterheads specimens of letterheads used for official stationery as to the use of the symbol "&" and the abbreviation of the word "company," the safest plan in writing to a company is to spell its name exactly as it appears on its letterhead specimen of formal wedding invitation specimens of formal invitations to a wedding reception specimen of wedding announcement specimens of formal dinner invitations specimens of formal invitations "to meet" specimens of formal invitations to a dance specimens of business letterheads arrangement of a business letter (block form) arrangement of a business letter (indented form) specimens of business letterheads used by english firms specimens of addressed social stationery specimens of addressed social stationery the monograms in the best taste are the small round ones, but many pleasing designs may be had in the diamond, square, and oblong shapes specimens of crested letter and notepaper specimens of monogrammed stationery specimens of business letterheads department stores and firms that write many letters to women often employ a notepaper size specimens of stationery used by men for personal business letters how to write letters chapter i what is a letter? it is not so long since most personal letters, after an extremely formal salutation, began "i take my pen in hand." we do not see that so much nowadays, but the spirit lingers. pick up the average letter and you cannot fail to discover that the writer has grimly taken his pen in hand and, filled with one thought, has attacked the paper. that one thought is to get the thing over with. and perhaps this attitude of getting the thing over with at all costs is not so bad after all. there are those who lament the passing of the ceremonious letter and others who regret that the "literary" letter--the kind of letter that can be published--is no longer with us. but the old letter of ceremony was not really more useful than a powdered wig, and as for the sort of letter that delights the heart and lightens the labor of the biographer--well, that is still being written by the kind of person who can write it. it is better that a letter should be written because the writer has something to say than as a token of culture. some of the letters of our dead great do too often remind us that they were not forgetful of posterity. the average writer of a letter might well forget culture and posterity and address himself to the task in hand, which, in other than the most exceptional sort of letter, is to say what he has to say in the shortest possible compass that will serve to convey the thought or the information that he wants to hand on. for a letter is a conveyance of thought; if it becomes a medium of expression it is less a letter than a diary fragment. most of our letters in these days relate to business affairs or to social affairs that, as far as personality is concerned, might as well be business. our average letter has a rather narrow objective and is not designed to be literature. we may, it is true, write to cheer up a sick friend, we may write to tell about what we are doing, we may write that sort of missive which can be classified only as a love letter--but unless such letters come naturally it is better that they be not written. they are the exceptional letters. it is absurd to write them according to rule. in fact, it is absurd to write any letter according to rule. but one can learn the best usage in correspondence, and that is all that this book attempts to present. the heyday of letter writing was in the eighteenth century in england. george saintsbury, in his interesting "a letter book," says: "by common consent of all opinion worth attention that century was, in the two european literatures which were equally free from crudity and decadence--french and english--the very palmiest day of the art. everybody wrote letters, and a surprising number of people wrote letters well. our own three most famous epistolers of the male sex, horace walpole, gray, and cowper--belong wholly to it; and 'lady mary'--our most famous she-ditto--belongs to it by all but her childhood; as does chesterfield, whom some not bad judges would put not far if at all below the three men just mentioned. the rise of the novel in this century is hardly more remarkable than the way in which that novel almost wedded itself--certainly joined itself in the most frequent friendship--to the letter-form. but perhaps the excellence of the choicer examples in this time is not really more important than the abundance, variety, and popularity of its letters, whether good, indifferent, or bad. to use one of the informal superlatives sanctioned by familiar custom it was the 'letter-writingest' of ages from almost every point of view. in its least as in its most dignified moods it even overflowed into verse if not into poetry as a medium. serious epistles had--of course on classical models--been written in verse for a long time. but now in england more modern patterns, and especially anstey's _new bath guide_, started the fashion of actual correspondence in doggerel verse with no thought of print--a practice in which persons as different as madame d'arblay's good-natured but rather foolish father, and a poet and historian like southey indulged; and which did not become obsolete till victorian times, if then." there is a wide distinction between a letter and an epistle. the letter is a substitute for a spoken conversation. it is spontaneous, private, and personal. it is non-literary and is not written for the eyes of the general public. the epistle is in the way of being a public speech--an audience is in mind. it is written with a view to permanence. the relation between an epistle and a letter has been compared to that between a platonic dialogue and a talk between two friends. a great man's letters, on account of their value in setting forth the views of a school or a person, may, if produced after his death, become epistles. some of these, genuine or forgeries, under some eminent name, have come down to us from the days of the early roman empire. cicero, plato, aristotle, demosthenes, are the principal names to which these epistles, genuine and pseudonymous, are attached. some of the letters of cicero are rather epistles, as they were intended for the general reader. the ancient world--babylonia, assyria, egypt, rome, and greece--figures in our inheritance of letters. in egypt have been discovered genuine letters. the papyrus discoveries contain letters of unknowns who had no thought of being read by the general public. during the renaissance, cicero's letters were used as models for one of the most common forms of literary effort. there is a whole literature of epistles from petrarch to the _epistolæ obscurorum virorum_. these are, to some degree, similar to the epistles of martin marprelate. later epistolary satires are pascal's "provincial letters," swift's "drapier letters," and the "letters of junius." pope, soon to be followed by lady mary montagu, was the first englishman who treated letter writing as an art upon a considerable scale. modern journalism uses a form known as the "open letter" which is really an epistle. but we are not here concerned with the letter as literature. chapter ii the purpose of the letter no one can go far wrong in writing any sort of letter if first the trouble be taken to set out the exact object of the letter. a letter always has an object--otherwise why write it? but somehow, and particularly in the dictated letter, the object frequently gets lost in the words. a handwritten letter is not so apt to be wordy--it is too much trouble to write. but a man dictating may, especially if he be interrupted by telephone calls, ramble all around what he wants to say and in the end have used two pages for what ought to have been said in three lines. on the other hand, letters may be so brief as to produce an impression of abrupt discourtesy. it is a rare writer who can say all that need be said in one line and not seem rude. but it can be done. the single purpose of a letter is to convey thought. that thought may have to do with facts, and the further purpose may be to have the thought produce action. but plainly the action depends solely upon how well the thought is transferred. words as used in a letter are vehicles for thought, but every word is not a vehicle for thought, because it may not be the kind of word that goes to the place where you want your thought to go; or, to put it another way, there is a wide variation in the understanding of words. the average american vocabulary is quite limited, and where an exactly phrased letter might completely convey an exact thought to a person of education, that same letter might be meaningless to a person who understands but few words. therefore, it is fatal in general letter writing to venture into unusual words or to go much beyond the vocabulary of, say, a grammar school graduate. statistics show that the ordinary adult in the united states--that is, the great american public--has either no high school education or less than a year of it. you can assume in writing to a man whom you do not know and about whom you have no information that he has only a grammar school education and that in using other than commonplace words you run a double danger--first, that he will not know what you are talking about or will misinterpret it; and second, that he will think you are trying to be highfalutin and will resent your possibly quite innocent parade of language. in a few very effective sales letters the writers have taken exactly the opposite tack. they have slung language in the fashion of a circus publicity agent, and by their verbal gymnastics have attracted attention. this sort of thing may do very well in some kinds of circular letters, but it is quite out of place in the common run of business correspondence, and a comparison of the sales letters of many companies with their day-to-day correspondence shows clearly the need for more attention to the day-to-day letter. a sales letter may be bought. a number of very competent men make a business of writing letters for special purposes. but a higher tone in general correspondence cannot be bought and paid for. it has to be developed. a good letter writer will neither insult the intelligence of his correspondent by making the letter too childish, nor will he make the mistake of going over his head. he will visualize who is going to receive his letter and use the kind of language that seems best to fit both the subject matter and the reader, and he will give the fitting of the words to the reader the first choice. there is something of a feeling that letters should be elegant--that if one merely expresses oneself simply and clearly, it is because of some lack of erudition, and that true erudition breaks out in great, sonorous words and involved constructions. there could be no greater mistake. the man who really knows the language will write simply. the man who does not know the language and is affecting something which he thinks is culture has what might be called a sense of linguistic insecurity, which is akin to the sense of social insecurity. now and again one meets a person who is dreadfully afraid of making a social error. he is afraid of getting hold of the wrong fork or of doing something else that is not done. such people labor along frightfully. they have a perfectly vile time of it, but any one who knows social usage takes it as a matter of course. he observes the rules, not because they are rules, but because they are second nature to him, and he shamelessly violates the rules if the occasion seems to warrant it. it is quite the same with the letter. one should know his ground well enough to do what one likes, bearing in mind that there is no reason for writing a letter unless the objective is clearly defined. writing a letter is like shooting at a target. the target may be hit by accident, but it is more apt to be hit if careful aim has been taken. chapter iii the parts of a letter the mechanical construction of a letter, whether social, friendly, or business, falls into six or seven parts. this arrangement has become established by the best custom. the divisions are as follows: . heading . inside address (always used in business letters but omitted in social and friendly letters) . salutation . body . complimentary close . signature . superscription . the heading the heading of a letter contains the street address, city, state, and the date. the examples below will illustrate: calumet street or eighth avenue chicago, ill. new york, n.y. may , march , [illustration: in the business letterhead appear the name of the firm, its address, and the kind of business engaged in] when the heading is typewritten or written by hand, it is placed at the top of the first letter sheet close to the right-hand margin. it should begin about in the center, that is, it should extend no farther to the left than the center of the page. if a letter is short and therefore placed in the center of a page, the heading will of course be lower and farther in from the edge than in a longer letter. but it should never be less than an inch from the top and three quarters of an inch from the edge. in the business letterhead appear the name of the firm, its address, and the kind of business engaged in. the last is often omitted in the case of widely known firms or where the nature of the business is indicated by the name of the firm. in the case of a printed or engraved letterhead, the written heading should consist only of the date. the printed date-line is not good. to mix printed and written or typed characters detracts from the neat appearance of the letter. in social stationery the address, when engraved, should be about three quarters of an inch from the top of the sheet, either in the center or at the right-hand corner. when the address is engraved, the date may be written at the end of the last sheet, from the left-hand corner, directly after the signature. [illustration: letterheads used by a life insurance company, a law firm, and three associations] [illustration: in the case of widely known firms, or where the name of the firm itself indicates it, reference to the nature of the business is often omitted from letterheads] . the inside address in social correspondence what is known as the inside address is omitted. in all business correspondence it is obviously necessary. the name and address of the person to whom a business letter is sent is placed at the left-hand side of the letter sheet below the heading, about an inch from the edge of the sheet, that is, leaving the same margin as in the body of the letter. the distance below the heading will be decided by the length and arrangement of the letter. the inside address consists of the name of the person or of the firm and the address. the address should comprise the street number, the city, and the state. the state may, in the case of certain very large cities, be omitted. either of the following styles may be used--the straight edge or the diagonal: wharton & whaley co. madison avenue & forty-fifth street new york, n. y. or wharton & whaley co. madison avenue & forty-fifth street new york, n. y. punctuation at the ends of the lines of the heading and the address may or may not be used. there is a growing tendency to omit it. the inside address may be written at the end of the letter, from the left, below the signature. this is done in official letters, both formal and informal. these official letters are further described under the heading "salutation" and in the chapter on stationery. . the salutation _social letters_ the salutation, or complimentary address to the person to whom the letter is written, in a social letter should begin at the left-hand side of the sheet about half an inch below the heading and an inch from the edge of the paper. the form "my dear" is considered in the united states more formal than "dear." thus, when we write to a woman who is simply an acquaintance, we should say "my dear mrs. evans." if we are writing to someone more intimate we should say "dear mrs. evans." the opposite is true in england--that is, "my dear mrs. evans" would be written to a friend and "dear mrs. evans" to a mere acquaintance. in writing to an absolute stranger, the full name should be written and then immediately under it, slightly to the right, "dear madam" or "dear sir." for example: mrs. john evans, dear madam: or mr. william sykes, dear sir: the salutation is followed by a colon or a comma. _business letters_ in business letters the forms of salutation in common use are: "dear sir," "gentlemen," "dear madam," and "mesdames." in the still more formal "my dear sir" and "my dear madam" note that the second word is not capitalized. a woman, whether married or unmarried, is addressed "dear madam." if the writer of the letter is personally acquainted with the person addressed, or if they have had much correspondence, he may use the less formal address, as "my dear mr. sykes." the salutation follows the inside address and preserves the same margin as does the first line of the address. the following are correct forms: white brothers co. fifth avenue new york gentlemen: or white brothers co. fifth avenue new york gentlemen: "dear sirs" is no longer much used--although in many ways it seems to be better taste. in the case of a firm or corporation with a single name, as daniel davey, inc., or of a firm or corporation consisting of men and women, the salutation is also "gentlemen" (or "dear sirs"). in letters to or by government officials the extremely formal "sir" or "sirs" is used. these are known as formal official letters. the informal official letter is used between business men and concerns things not in the regular routine of business affairs. these letters are decidedly informal and may be quite conversational in tone. the use of a name alone as a salutation is not correct, as: mr. john evans: i have your letter of-- forms of salutation to be avoided are "dear miss," "dear friend," "messrs." in memoranda between members of a company the salutations are commonly omitted--but these memoranda are not letters. they are messages of a "telegraphic" nature. _titles_ in the matter of titles it has been established by long custom that a title of some kind be used with the name of the individual or firm. the more usual titles are: "mr.," "mrs.," "miss," "messrs.," "reverend," "doctor," "professor," and "honorable." "esquire," written "esq." is used in england instead of the "mr." in common use in the united states. although still adhered to by some in this country, its use is rather restricted to social letters. of course it is never used with "mr." write either "mr. george l. ashley" or "george l. ashley, esq." the title "messrs." is used in addressing two or more persons who are in business partnership, as "messrs. brown and clark" or "brown & clark"; but the national cash register company, for example, should not be addressed "messrs. national cash register company" but "the national cash register company." the form "messrs." is an abbreviation of "messieurs" and should not be abbreviated in any way other than "messrs." the title "miss" is not recognized as an abbreviation and is not followed by a period. honorary degrees, such as "m.d.," "ph.d.," "m.a.," "b.s.," "ll.d.," follow the name of the person addressed. the initials "m.d." must not be used in connection with "doctor" as this would be a duplication. write either "dr. herbert reynolds" or "herbert reynolds, m.d." the titles of "doctor," "reverend," and "professor" precede the name of the addressed, as: "dr. herbert reynolds," "rev. philip bentley," "prof. lucius palmer." it will be observed that these titles are usually abbreviated on the envelope and in the inside address, but in the salutation they must be written out in full, as "my dear doctor," or "my dear professor." in formal notes one writes "my dear doctor reynolds" or "my dear professor palmer." in less formal notes, "dear doctor reynolds" and "dear professor palmer" may be used. a question of taste arises in the use of "doctor." the medical student completing the studies which would ordinarily lead to a bachelor's degree is known as "doctor," and the term has become associated in the popular mind with medicine and surgery. the title "doctor" is, however, an academic distinction, and although applied to all graduate medical practitioners is, in all other realms of learning, a degree awarded for graduate work, as doctor of philosophy (ph.d.), or for distinguished services that cause a collegiate institution to confer an honorary degree such as doctor of common law (d.c.l.), doctor of law and literature (ll.d.), doctor of science (sc.d.), and so on. every holder of a doctor's degree is entitled to be addressed as "doctor," but in practice the salutation is rarely given to the holders of the honorary degrees--mostly because they do not care for it. do not use "mr." or "esq." with any of the titles mentioned above. the president of the united states should be addressed formally as "sir," informally as "my dear mr. president." members of congress and of the state legislatures, diplomatic representatives, judges, and justices are entitled "honorable," as "honorable samuel sloane," thus: (formal) honorable (or hon.) john henley sir: (informal) honorable (or hon.) john henley my dear mr. henley: titles such as "cashier," "secretary," and "agent" are in the nature of descriptions and follow the name; as "mr. charles hamill, cashier." when such titles as "honorable" and "reverend" are used in the body of the letter they are preceded by the article "the." thus, "the honorable samuel sloane will address the meeting." a woman should never be addressed by her husband's title. thus the wife of a doctor is not "mrs. dr. royce" but "mrs. paul royce." the titles of "judge," "general," and "doctor" belong to the husband only. of course, if a woman has a title of her own, she may use it. if she is an "m.d." she will be designated as "dr. elizabeth ward." in this case her husband's christian name would not be used. in writing to the clergy, the following rules should be observed: for a cardinal the only salutation is "your eminence." the address on the envelope should read "his eminence john cardinal farley." to an archbishop one should write "most rev. patrick j. hayes, d.d., archbishop of new york." the salutation is usually "your grace," although it is quite admissible to use "dear archbishop." the former is preferable and of more common usage. the correct form of address for a bishop is "the right reverend john jones, d.d., bishop of ----." the salutation in a formal letter should be "right reverend and dear sir," but this would be used only in a strictly formal communication. in this salutation "dear" is sometimes capitalized, so that it would read "right reverend and dear sir"; although the form in the text seems preferable, some bishops use the capitalized "dear." the usual form is "my dear bishop," with "the right reverend john jones, d.d., bishop of ----" written above it. in the protestant episcopal church a dean is addressed "the very reverend john jones, d.d., dean of ----." the informal salutation is "my dear dean jones" and the formal is "very reverend and dear sir." in addressing a priest, the formal salutation is "reverend and dear sir," or "reverend dear father." the envelope reads simply: "the rev. joseph j. smith," followed by any titles the priest may enjoy. the form used in addressing the other clergy is "the reverend john jones," and the letter, if strictly formal, would commence with "reverend and dear sir." the more usual form, however, is "my dear mr. brown" (or "dr. brown," as the case may be). the use of the title "reverend" with the surname only is wholly inadmissible. in general usage the salutation in addressing formal correspondence to a foreign ambassador is "his excellency," to a minister or chargé d'affaires, "sir." in informal correspondence the general form is "my dear mr. ambassador," "my dear mr. minister," or "my dear mr. chargé d'affaires." . the body of the letter in the placing of a formal note it must be arranged so that the complete note appears on the first page only. the social letter is either formal or informal. the formal letter must be written according to certain established practice. it is the letter used for invitations to formal affairs, for announcements, and for the acknowledgment of these letters. the third person must always be used. if one receives a letter written in the third person one must answer in kind. it would be obviously incongruous to write mr. and mrs. john evans regret that we are unable to accept mrs. elliott's kind invitation for the theatre on thursday, may the fourth as we have a previous engagement it should read mr. and mrs. john evans regret that they are unable to accept mrs. elliott's kind invitation for the theatre on thursday, may the fourth as they have a previous engagement in these notes, the hour and date are never written numerically but are spelled out. if the family has a coat-of-arms or crest it may be used in the centre of the engraved invitation at the top, but monograms or stamped addresses are never so used. for the informal letter there are no set rules except that of courtesy, which requires that we have our thought distinctly in mind before putting it on paper. it may be necessary to pause a few moments before writing, to think out just what we want to say. a rambling, incoherent letter is not in good taste any more than careless, dishevelled clothing. spelling should be correct. if there is any difficulty in spelling, a small dictionary kept in the desk drawer is easily consulted. begin each sentence with a capital. start a new paragraph when you change to a new subject. put periods (or interrogation points as required) at the ends of the sentences. it is neater to preserve a margin on both sides of the letter sheet. in the body of a business letter the opening sentence is in an important position, and this is obviously the place for an important fact. it ought in some way to state or refer to the subject of or reason for the letter, so as to get the attention of the reader immediately to the subject. it ought also to suggest a courteous personal interest in the recipient's business, to give the impression of having to do with his interests. for instance, a reader might be antagonized by yours of the th regarding the shortage in your last order received. how much more tactful is we regret to learn from your letter of march th that there was a shortage in your last order. paragraphs should show the division of the thought of the letter. if you can arrange and group your subjects and your thoughts on them logically in your mind, you will have no trouble in putting them on paper. it is easier for the reader to grasp your thought if in each paragraph are contained only one thought and the ideas pertaining to it. the appearance of a business letter is a matter to which all too little concern has been given. a firm or business which would not tolerate an unkempt salesman sometimes will think nothing of sending out badly typed, badly placed, badly spelled letters. the first step toward a good-looking letter is proper stationery, though a carefully typed and placed letter on poor stationery is far better than one on good stationery with a good letterhead but poor typing and placing. the matter of correct spelling is merely a case of the will to consult a dictionary when in doubt. the proper placing of a letter is something which well rewards the care necessary at first. estimate the matter to go on the page with regard to the size of the page and arrange so that the centre of the letter will be slightly above the centre of the letter sheet. the margins should act as a frame or setting for the letter. the left-hand space should be at least an inch and the right-hand at least a half inch. of course if the letter is short the margins will be wider. the top and bottom margins should be wider than the side margins. the body of the letter should begin at the same distance from the edge as the first line of the inside address and the salutation. all paragraphing should be indicated by indenting the same distances from the margin--about an inch--or if the block system is used no paragraph indentation is made but double or triple spacing between the paragraphs indicates the divisions. if the letter is handwritten, the spacing between the paragraphs should be noticeably greater than that between other lines. never write on both sides of a sheet. in writing a business letter, if the letter requires more than one page, use plain sheets of the same size and quality without the letterhead. these additional sheets should be numbered at the top. the name or initials of the firm or person to whom the letter is going should also appear at the top of the sheets. this letter should never run over to a second sheet if there are less than three lines of the body of the letter left over from the first page. in the formal official letter, that is, in letters to or by government officials, members of congress, and other dignitaries, the most rigid formality in language is observed. no colloquialisms are allowed and no abbreviations. [illustration: specimens of letterheads used for official stationery] . the complimentary close the complimentary close follows the body of the letter, about two or three spaces below it. it begins about in the center of the page under the body of the letter. only the first word should be capitalized and a comma is placed at the end. the wording may vary according to the degree of cordiality or friendship. in business letters the forms are usually restricted to the following: yours truly (or) truly yours (not good form) yours very truly (or) very truly yours yours respectfully (or) respectfully yours yours very respectfully. if the correspondents are on a more intimate basis they may use faithfully yours cordially yours sincerely yours. in formal official letters the complimentary close is respectfully yours yours respectfully. the informal social letter may close with yours sincerely yours very sincerely yours cordially yours faithfully yours gratefully (if a favor has been done) yours affectionately very affectionately yours yours lovingly lovingly yours. the position of "yours" may be at the beginning or at the end, but it must never be abbreviated or omitted. if a touch of formal courtesy is desired, the forms "i am" or "i remain" may be used before the complimentary closing. these words keep the same margin as the paragraph indenting. but in business letters they are not used. . the signature the signature is written below the complimentary close and a little to the right, so that it ends about at the right-hand margin. in signing a social letter a married woman signs herself as "evelyn rundell," not "mrs. james rundell" nor "mrs. evelyn rundell." the form "mrs. james rundell" is used in business letters when the recipient might be in doubt as to whether to address her as "mrs." or "miss." thus a married woman would sign such a business letter: yours very truly, evelyn rundell (mrs. james rundell). an unmarried woman signs as "ruth evans," excepting in the case of a business letter where she might be mistaken for a widow. she then prefixes "miss" in parentheses, as (miss) ruth evans. a woman should not sign only her given name in a letter to a man unless he is her fiancé or a relative or an old family friend. a widow signs her name with "mrs." in parentheses before it, as (mrs.) susan briggs geer. a divorced woman, if she retains her husband's name, signs her letters with her given name and her own surname followed by her husband's name, thus: janet hawkins carr. and in a business communication: janet hawkins carr (mrs. janet hawkins carr). a signature should always be made by hand and in ink. the signature to a business letter may be simply the name of the writer. business firms or corporations have the name of the firm typed above the written signature of the writer of the letter. then in type below comes his official position. thus: hall, haines & company (typewritten) _alfred jennings_ (handwritten) cashier (typewritten). if he is not an official, his signature is preceded by the word "by." in the case of form letters or routine correspondence the name of the person directly responsible for the letter may be signed by a clerk with his initials just below it. some business firms have the name of the person responsible for the letter typed immediately under the name of the firm and then his signature below that. this custom counteracts illegibility in signatures. in circular letters the matter of a personal signature is a very important one. some good points on this subject may be gathered from the following extract from _printers' ink_. who shall sign a circular letter depends largely on circumstances entering individual cases. generally speaking, every letter should be tested on a trial list before it is sent out in large quantities. it is inadvisable to hazard an uncertain letter idea on a large list until the value of the plan, as applied to that particular business, has been tried out. there are certain things about letter procedure, however, that experience has demonstrated to be fundamental. one of these platforms is that it is best to sign the letter with some individual's name. covering up the responsibility for the letter with such a general term as "sales department" or "advertising department" takes all personality out of the missive and to that extent weakens the power of the message. but even in this we should be chary of following inflexible rules. we can conceive of circumstances where it would be advisable to have the letter come from a department rather than from an individual. of course the management of many business organizations still holds that all letters should be signed by the company only. if the personal touch is permitted at all, the extent of it is to allow the writer of the letter to subscribe his initials. this idea, however, is pretty generally regarded as old-fashioned and is fast dying out. most companies favor the plan of having the head of the department sign the circular letters emanating from his department. if he doesn't actually dictate the letter himself, no tell-tale signs such as the initials of the actual dictator should be made. if it is a sales matter, the letter would bear the signature of the sales manager. if the communication pertained to advertising, it would be signed by the advertising manager. where it is desired to give unusual emphasis to the letter, it might occasionally be attributed to the president or to some other official higher up. the big name idea should not be overdone. people will soon catch on that the president would not have time to answer all of the company's correspondence. if he has, it is evident that a very small business must be done. a better idea that is coming into wide vogue is to have the letter signed by the man in the company who comes into occasional personal contact with the addressee. one concern has the house salesman who waits on customers coming from that section of the country when they visit headquarters sign all promotion letters going to them. the house salesman is the only one in the firm whom the customer knows. it is reasoned that the latter will give greater heed to a letter coming from a man with whom he is on friendly terms. another company has its branch managers take the responsibility for circular letters sent to the trade in that territory. another manufacturer has his salesmen bunched in crews of six. each crew is headed by a leader. this man has to sell, just as his men do, but in addition he acts as a sort of district sales manager. all trade letters going out in his district carry the crew leader's signature. there is much to be said in favor of this vogue. personal contact is so valuable in all business transactions that its influence should be used in letters, in so far as it is practicable to do so. the signature should not vary. do not sign "g. smith" to one letter, "george smith" to another, and "g. b. smith" to a third. a man should never prefix to his signature any title, as "mr.," "prof.," or "dr." a postscript is sometimes appended to a business letter, but the letters "p.s." do not appear. it is not, however, used as formerly--to express some thought which the writer forgot to include in the letter, or an afterthought. but on account of its unique position in the letter, it is used to place special emphasis on an important thought. . the superscription in the outside address or superscription of a letter the following forms are observed: a letter to a woman must always address her as either "mrs." or "miss," unless she is a professional woman with a title such as "dr." but this title is used only if the letter is a professional one. it is not employed in social correspondence. a woman is never addressed by her husband's title, as "mrs. captain bartlett." a married woman is addressed with "mrs." prefixed to her husband's name, as "mrs. david greene." this holds even if her husband is dead. a divorced woman is addressed (unless she is allowed by the courts to use her maiden name) as "mrs." followed by her maiden name and her former husband's surname, as: "mrs. edna boyce blair," "edna boyce" being her maiden name. a man should be given his title if he possess one. otherwise he must be addressed as "mr." or "esq." titles of those holding public office, of physicians, of the clergy, and of professors, are generally abbreviated on the envelope except in formal letters. it is rather customary to address social letters to "edward beech, esq.," business letters to "mr. edward beech," and a tradesman's letter to "peter moore." a servant is addressed as "william white." the idea has arisen, and it would seem erroneous, that if the man addressed had also "sr." or "jr." attached, the title "mr." or "esq." should not be used. there is neither rhyme nor reason for this, as "sr." and "jr." are certainly not titles and using "mr." or "esq." would not be a duplication. so the proper mode of address would be mr. john evans, jr. or john evans, jr., esq. the "sr." is not always necessary as it may be understood. business envelopes should have the address of the writer printed in the upper left-hand corner as a return address. this space should not be used for advertising. in addressing children's letters, it should be remembered that a letter to a girl child is addressed to "miss jane green," regardless of the age of the child. but a little boy should be addressed as "master joseph green." the address when completed should be slightly below the middle of the envelope and equidistant from right and left edges. the slanting or the straight-edge form may be used, to agree with the indented or the block style of paragraphing respectively. punctuation at the ends of the lines in the envelope address is not generally used. the post office prefers the slanting edge form of address, thus: (not) ---------------- ---------------- ---------------- ---------------- ---------------- ---------------- if there is a special address, such as "general delivery," "personal," or "please forward," it should be placed at the lower left-hand corner of the envelope. chapter iv being appropriate--what to avoid common offenses under this head are grouped a few of the more common offenses against good form in letter writing; some of these have been touched on in other chapters. never use ruled paper for any correspondence. never use tinted paper for business letters. do not have date lines on printed letterheads. this of course has to do with business stationery. do not use simplified spelling, if for no other reason than that it detracts from the reader's absorption of the contents of the letter itself. "enthuse" is not a word--do not use it. avoid blots, fingermarks, and erasures. do not use two one-cent stamps in place of a two-cent stamp. somehow one-cent stamps are not dignified. never use "dear friend," "friend jack," "my dear friend," or "friend bliss" as a form of salutation. in the case of a business letter where a salutation for both sexes may be necessary, use "gentlemen." never cross the writing in a letter with more writing. never use "oblige" in the place of the complimentary close. do not double titles, as "mr. john walker, esq." write either "mr. john walker" or "john walker, esq." a woman should never sign herself "mrs." or "miss" to a social letter. in business letters (see chapter ) it may be necessary to prefix "mrs." or "miss" in parentheses to show how an answer should be addressed to her. never omit "yours" in the complimentary close. always write "yours sincerely," "yours truly," or whatever it may be. never write a letter in the heat of anger. sleep on it if you do and the next morning will not see you so anxious to send it. in some business offices it has become the custom to have typed at the bottom of a letter, or sometimes even rubber-stamped, such expressions as: dictated but not read. dictated by but signed in the absence of ----. dictated by mr. jones, but, as mr. jones was called away, signed by miss walker. while these may be the circumstances under which the letter was written and may be necessary for the identification of the letter, they are no less discourtesies to the reader. and it cannot improve the situation to call them to the reader's attention. in the matter of abbreviations of titles and the like a safe rule is "when in doubt do not abbreviate." sentences like "dictated by mr. henry pearson to miss oliver" are in bad form, not to speak of their being bad business. they intrude the mechanics of the letter on the reader and in so doing they take his interest from the actual object of the communication. all necessary identification can be made by initials, as: l. s. b.--t. do not write a sales letter that gives the same impression as a strident, raucous-voiced salesman. if the idea is to attract attention by shouting louder than all the rest, it might be well to remember that the limit of screeching and of words that hit one in the eye has probably been reached. the tack to take, even from a result-producing standpoint and aside from the question of good taste, is to have the tone of the letter quiet but forceful--the firm, even tone of a voice heard through a yelling mob. do not attempt to put anything on paper without first thinking out and arranging what you want to say. complimentary closings in business letters, such as "yours for more business," should be avoided as the plague. stock phrases in business letters there are certain expressions, certain stock phrases, which have in the past been considered absolutely necessary to a proper knowledge of so-called business english. but it is gratifying to notice the emphasis that professors and teachers of business english are placing on the avoidance of these horrors and on the adoption of a method of writing in which one says exactly what one means and says it gracefully and without stiltedness or intimacy. their aim seems to be the ability to write a business letter which may be easily read, easily understood, and with the important facts in the attention-compelling places. but for the sake of those who still cling to these hackneyed improprieties (which most of them are), let us line them up for inspection. many of them are inaccurate, and a moment's thought will give a better method of conveying the ideas. "we beg to state," "we beg to advise," "we beg to remain." there is a cringing touch about these. a courteous letter may be written without begging. "your letter has come to hand" or "is at hand" belongs to a past age. say "we have your letter of ----" or "we have received your letter." "we shall advise you of ----" this is a legal expression. say "we shall let you know" or "we shall inform you." "as per your letter." also of legal connotation. say "according to" or "in agreement with." "your esteemed favor" is another relic. this is a form of courtesy, but is obsolete. "favor," used to mean "communication" or "letter," is obviously inaccurate. "replying to your letter, would say," or "wish to say." why not say it at once and abolish the wordiness? "state" gives the unpleasant suggestion of a cross-examination. use "say." "and oblige" adds nothing to the letter. if the reader is not already influenced by its contents, "and oblige" will not induce him to be. the telegraphic brevity caused by omitting pronouns and all words not necessary to the sense makes for discourtesy and brusqueness, as: answering yours of the st inst., order has been delayed, but will ship goods at once. how much better to say: we have your letter of st october concerning the delay in filling your order. we greatly regret the delay, but we can now ship the goods at once. "same" is not a pronoun. it is used as such in legal documents, but it is incorrect to employ it in business letters as other than an adjective. use instead "they," "them," or "it." _incorrect:_ we have received your order and same will be forwarded. _correct:_ we have received your order and it will be forwarded. "kindly"--as in: "we kindly request that you will send your subscription." there is nothing kind in your request and if there were, you would not so allude to it. "kindly" in this case belongs to "send," as "we request that you will kindly send your subscription." the word "kind" to describe a business letter--as "your kind favor"--is obviously misapplied. there is no element of "kindness" on either side of an ordinary business transaction. the months are no longer alluded to as "inst.," "ult.," or "prox." [abbreviations of the latin "instant" (present), "ultimo" (past), and "proximo" (next)] as "yours of the th inst." call the months by name, as "i have your letter of th may." "contents carefully noted" is superfluous and its impression on the reader is a blank. "i enclose herewith." "herewith" in this sense means in the envelope. this fact is already expressed in the word "enclose." avoid abbreviations of ordinary words in the body or the closing of a letter, as "resp. yrs." instead of "respectfully yours." the word "company" should not be abbreviated unless the symbol "&" is used. but the safest plan in writing to a company is to write the name exactly as they write it themselves or as it appears on their letterheads. [illustration: as to the use of the symbol "&" and the abbreviation of the word "company," the safest plan in writing to a company is to spell its name exactly as it appears on its letterhead] names of months and names of states may be abbreviated in the heading of the letter but not in the body. but it is better form not to do so. names of states should never be abbreviated on the envelope. for instance, "california" and "colorado," if written "cal." and "col.," may easily be mistaken for each other. the participial closing of a letter, that is, ending a letter with a participial phrase, weakens the entire effect of the letter. this is particularly true of a business letter. close with a clear-cut idea. the following endings will illustrate the ineffective participle: hoping to hear from you on this matter by return mail. assuring you of our wish to be of service to you in the future. thanking you for your order and hoping we shall be able to please you. trusting that you will start an investigation as soon as possible. more effective endings would be: please send a remittance by return mail. if we can be of use to you in the future, will you let us know? we thank you for your order and hope we shall fill it to your satisfaction. please investigate the delay at once. the participial ending is merely a sort of habit. a letter used to be considered lacking in ease if it ended with an emphatic sentence or ended with something that had really to do with the subject of the letter. it might be well in concluding a letter, as in a personal leavetaking, to "stand not on the order of your going." good-byes should be short. chapter v personal letters--social and friendly invitations and acknowledgments _general directions_ the format of an invitation is not so important as its taste. some of the more formal sorts of invitations--as to weddings--have become rather fixed, and the set wordings are carried through regardless of the means at hand for proper presentation. for instance, one often sees a wedding invitation in impeccable form but badly printed on cheap paper. it would be far better, if it is impossible to get good engraving or if first-class work proves to be too expensive, to buy good white notepaper and write the invitations. a typewriter is, of course, out of the question either for sending or answering any sort of social invitation. probably some time in the future the typewriter will be used, but at present it is associated with business correspondence and is supposed to lack the implied leisure of hand writing. the forms of many invitations, as i have said, are fairly fixed. but they are not hallowed. one may vary them within the limits of good taste, but on the whole it is considerably easier to accept the forms in use and not try to be different. if the function itself is going to be very different from usual then the invitation itself may be as freakish as one likes--it may be written or printed on anything from a postcard to a paper bag. the sole question is one of appropriateness. but there is a distinct danger in trying to be ever so unconventional and all that. one is more apt than not to make a fool of one's self. and then, too, being always clever is dreadfully hard on the innocent by-standers. here are things to be avoided: do not have an invitation printed or badly engraved. hand writing is better than bad mechanical work. do not use colored or fancy papers. do not use single sheets. do not use a very large or a very small sheet--either is inappropriate. do not have a formal phraseology for an informal affair. do not abbreviate anything--initials may be used in informal invitations and acceptances, but, in the formal, "h. e. jones" invariably has to become "horatio etherington jones." do not send an answer to a formal invitation in the first person. a formal invitation is written in the third person and must be so answered. do not use visiting cards either for acceptances or regrets even though they are sometimes used for invitations. the practice of sending a card with "accepts" or "regrets" written on it is discourteous. do not seek to be decorative in handwriting--the flourishing spencerian is impossible. do not overdo either the formality or the informality. do not use "r.s.v.p." (the initials of the french words "répondez, s'il vous plaît," meaning "answer, if you please") unless the information is really necessary for the making of arrangements. it ought to be presumed that those whom you take the trouble to invite will have the sense and the courtesy to answer. in sending an evening invitation where there are husband and wife, both must be included, unless, of course, the occasion is "stag." if the invitation is to be extended to a daughter, then her name is included in the invitation. in the case of more than one daughter, they will receive a separate invitation addressed to "the misses smith." each male member of the family other than husband should receive a separately mailed invitation. an invitation, even the most informal, should always be acknowledged within a week of its receipt. it is the height of discourtesy to leave the hostess in doubt either through a tardy answer or through the undecided character of your reply. the acknowledgment must state definitely whether or not you accept. the acknowledgment of an invitation sent to husband and wife must include both names but is answered by the wife only. the name of a daughter also must appear if it appears in the invitation. if mr. and mrs. smith receive an invitation from mr. and mrs. jones, their acknowledgment must include the names of both mr. and mrs. jones, but the envelope should be addressed to mrs. jones only. formal invitations wedding invitations should be sent about three weeks--certainly not later than fifteen days--before the wedding. two envelopes should be used, the name and address appearing on the outside envelope, but only the name on the inside one. the following are correct for formal invitations: _for a church wedding_ (a) _mr. and mrs. john evans request the honour of_ ---- (name written in) _presence at the marriage of their daughter dorothy and mr. philip brewster on the evening of monday, the eighth of june at six o'clock at the church of the heavenly rest fifth avenue, new york city_ [illustration: specimen of formal wedding invitation] (b) _mr. and mrs. john evans request the honour of your presence at the marriage of their daughter dorothy and mr. philip brewster on monday, june the eighth at six o'clock at the church of the heavenly rest fifth avenue, new york_ _for a home wedding_ _mr. and mrs. john evans request the pleasure of_ ---- (name written in) _company at the marriage of their daughter dorothy and mr. philip brewster on wednesday, june the tenth at twelve o'clock five hundred park avenue_ or either of the forms a and b for a church wedding may be used. "honour of your presence" is more formal than "pleasure of your company" and hence is more appropriate for a church wedding. it is presumed that an invitation to a home wedding includes the wedding breakfast or reception, but an invitation to a church wedding does not. a card inviting to the wedding breakfast or reception is enclosed with the wedding invitation. good forms are: _for a wedding breakfast_ _mr. and mrs. john evans request the pleasure of_ ---- (name written in) _at breakfast on tuesday, june the fourth at twelve o'clock park avenue_ _for a wedding reception_ _mr. and mrs. john evans request the pleasure of your company at the wedding reception of their daughter dorothy and mr. philip brewster on monday afternoon, june the third at four o'clock five hundred park avenue_ [illustration: specimens of formal invitations to a wedding reception] _for a second marriage_ the forms followed in a second marriage--either of a widow or a divorcée--are quite the same as above. the divorcée uses whatever name she has taken after the divorce--the name of her ex-husband or her maiden name if she has resumed it. the widow sometimes uses simply mrs. philip brewster or a combination, as mrs. dorothy evans brewster. the invitations are issued in the name of the nearest relative--the parent or parents, of course, if living. the forms are: (a) _mr. and mrs. john evans request the honour of your presence at the marriage of their daughter dorothy (mrs. philip brewster) to mr. leonard duncan on thursday, april the third at six o'clock trinity chapel_ (b) _mr. and mrs. john evans request the honour of your presence at the marriage of their daughter mrs. dorothy evans brewster to mr. leonard duncan on thursday, april the third at six o'clock trinity chapel_ if there are no near relatives, the form may be: (c) _the honour of your presence is requested at the marriage of mrs. dorothy evans brewster and mr. leonard duncan on thursday, april the third at six o'clock trinity chapel_ in formal invitations "honour" is spelled with a "u." _recalling an invitation_ the wedding may have to be postponed or solemnized privately, owing to illness or death, or it may be put off altogether. in such an event the invitations will have to be recalled. the card recalling may or may not give a reason, according to circumstances. the cards should be engraved if time permits, but they may have to be written. convenient forms are: (a) _owing to the death of mr. philip brewster's mother, mr. and mrs. evans beg to recall the invitations for their daughter's wedding on monday, june the eighth._ [illustration: specimen of wedding announcement] (b) _mr. and mrs. john evans beg to recall the invitations for the marriage of their daughter, dorothy, and mr. philip brewster, on monday, june the eighth_ _wedding announcements_ if a wedding is private, no formal invitations are sent out; they are unnecessary, for only a few relatives or intimate friends will be present and they will be asked by word of mouth or by a friendly note. the wedding may be formally announced by cards mailed on the day of the wedding. the announcement will be made by whoever would have sent out wedding invitations--by parents, a near relative, or by the bride and groom, according to circumstances. the custom with the bride's name in the case of a widow or divorcée follows that of wedding invitations. an engraved announcement is not acknowledged (although a letter of congratulations--see page --may often be sent). a card is sent to the bride's parents or whoever has sent the announcements. the announcement may be in the following form: _mr. and mrs. john evans announce the marriage of their daughter dorothy to mr. philip brewster on monday, june the tenth one thousand nineteen hundred and twenty-two_ _replying to the invitation_ the acceptance or the declination of a formal invitation is necessarily formal but naturally has to be written by hand. it is better to use double notepaper than a correspondence card and it is not necessary to give a reason for being unable to be present--although one may be given. it is impolite to accept or regret only a day or two before the function--the letter should be written as soon as possible after the receipt of the invitation. the letter may be indented as is the engraved invitation, but this is not at all necessary. the forms are: _accepting_ mr. and mrs. frothingham smith accept with pleasure mr. and mrs. evans's kind invitation to be present at the marriage of their daughter dorothy and mr. philip brewster on monday, june the twelfth at twelve o'clock (and afterward at the wedding breakfast) or it may be written out: mr. and mrs. frothingham smith accept with pleasure mr. and mrs. evans's kind invitation to be present at the marriage of their daughter dorothy and mr. philip brewster on monday, june the twelfth at twelve o'clock (and afterward at the wedding breakfast). _regretting_ mr. and mrs. frothingham smith regret exceedingly that they are unable to accept mr. and mrs. evans's kind invitation to be present at the marriage of their daughter dorothy and mr. philip brewster on monday, june the twelfth (and afterward at the wedding breakfast) or this also may be written out. the portion in parentheses will be omitted if one has not been asked to the wedding breakfast or reception. _for the formal dinner_ formal dinner invitations are usually engraved, as in the following example. in case they are written, they may follow the same form or the letter form. if addressed paper is used the address is omitted from the end. the acknowledgment should follow the wording of the invitation. (a) _mr. and mrs. john evans request the pleasure of_ mr. and mrs. trent's _company at dinner on thursday, october the first at seven o'clock and afterward for the play (or opera, etc.)_ _ park avenue_ (b) _mr. and mrs. john evans request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. trent's company for dinner and opera on thursday, october the first at seven o'clock_ _accepting_ mr. and mrs. george trent accept with much pleasure mr. and mrs. evans's kind invitation for dinner on thursday, october the first, at seven o'clock and afterward for the opera east forty-sixth street _regretting_ mr. and mrs. george trent regret that they are unable to accept the kind invitation of mr. and mrs. evans for dinner and opera on thursday, october the first, owing to a previous engagement. east forty-sixth street _for a dinner not at home_ _mr. and mrs. john evans request the pleasure of mrs. and miss pearson's company at dinner at sherry's on friday, march the thirtieth at quarter past seven o'clock_ _ park avenue_ _accepting_ mrs. richard pearson and miss pearson accept with much pleasure mr. and mrs. evans's very kind invitation for dinner at sherry's on friday, march the thirtieth at quarter past seven o'clock west seventy-second street _regretting_ mrs. richard pearson and miss pearson regret exceedingly that they are unable to accept mr. and mrs. evans's very kind invitation for dinner at sherry's on friday, march the thirtieth owing to a previous engagement to dine with mr. and mrs. spencer west seventy-second street [illustration: specimens of formal dinner invitations] or the reply may follow the letter form: _accepting_ west seventy-second street, march , . mr. and mrs. richard pearson accept with pleasure mrs. john evans's kind invitation for friday evening, march the thirtieth. _regretting_ west seventy-second street march , . mr. and mrs. richard pearson regret sincerely their inability to accept mrs. john evans's kind invitation for friday evening, march the thirtieth. these acknowledgments, being formal, are written in the third person and must be sent within twenty-four hours. _dinner "to meet"_ if the dinner or luncheon is given to meet a person of importance or a friend from out of town, the purpose should appear in the body of the invitation, thus: _mr. and mrs. john evans request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. trent's company at dinner on thursday, november the ninth at eight o'clock to meet mr. william h. allen_ _to a formal luncheon_ _mrs. john evans requests the pleasure of miss blake's company at luncheon to meet miss grace flint on tuesday, march the fourth at one o'clock and afterward to the matinée_ _ park avenue_ _accepting_ miss blake accepts with pleasure mrs. evans's very kind invitation for luncheon on tuesday, march the fourth at one o'clock to meet miss flint and to go afterward to the matinée west thirty-first street _regretting_ miss blake regrets that a previous engagement prevents her from accepting mrs. evans's very kind invitation for luncheon on tuesday, march the fourth at one o'clock to meet miss flint and to go afterward to the matinée west thirty-first street [illustration: specimens of formal invitations "to meet"] _for the reception_ afternoon receptions and "at homes" for which engraved invitations are sent out are practically the same as formal "teas." an invitation is engraved as follows: _mr. and mrs. john evans at home wednesday afternoon, september fourth from four until half-past seven o'clock five hundred park avenue_ these cards are sent out by mail in a single envelope about two weeks or ten days before the event. the recipient of such a card is not required to send either a written acceptance or regret. one accepts by attending the "at home." if one does not accept, the visiting card should be sent by mail so that it will reach the hostess on the day of the reception. where an answer is explicitly required, then the reply may be as follows: _accepting_ mrs. john evans accepts with pleasure mrs. emerson's kind invitation for wednesday afternoon november the twenty-eighth _regretting_ mrs. john evans regrets that she is unable to accept mrs. emerson's kind invitation for wednesday afternoon november the twenty-eighth mrs. john evans regrets that she is unable to be present at mrs. emerson's at home on wednesday afternoon november the twenty-eighth _reception "to meet"_ (a) _mrs. bruce wellington requests the pleasure of mrs. evans's presence on thursday afternoon, april fifth to meet the board of governors of the door-of-hope society from four-thirty to seven o'clock_ _accepting_ mrs. john evans accepts with pleasure mrs. wellington's kind invitation to meet the board of governors of the door-of-hope society on thursday afternoon, april fifth _regretting:_ mrs. john evans regrets that a previous engagement prevents her from accepting mrs. wellington's kind invitation to meet the board of governors of the door-of-hope society on thursday afternoon, april fifth _mr. and mrs. john evans request the pleasure of your company to meet general and mrs. robert e. lee on thursday afternoon, february fourth from four until seven o'clock_ _five hundred park avenue_ if one accepts this invitation, one acknowledges simply by attending. if one is unable to attend, then the visiting card is mailed. if unforeseen circumstances should prevent attending, then a messenger is sent with a card in an envelope to the hostess, to reach her during the reception. _invitations for afternoon affairs_ for afternoon affairs--at homes, teas, garden parties--the invitations are sent out in the name of the hostess alone, or if there be a daughter, or daughters, in society, their names will appear immediately below the name of the hostess. _mrs. john evans the misses evans at home thursday afternoon, january eleventh from four until seven o'clock five hundred park avenue_ if the purpose of the reception is to introduce a daughter, her name would appear immediately below that of the hostess, as "miss evans," without christian name or initial. if a second daughter is to be introduced at the tea, her name in full is added beneath that of the hostess: _mrs. john evans miss ruth evans miss evans at home friday afternoon, january twentieth from four until seven o'clock five hundred park avenue_ _for balls and dances_ the word "ball" is used for an assembly or a charity dance, never otherwise. an invitation to a private house bears "dancing" or "cotillion" in one corner of the card. this ball or formal dance invitation is engraved on a white card, sometimes with a blank space so that the guest's name may be written in by the hostess. it would read thus: (a) _mr. and mrs. charles elliott request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. evans's company at a cotillion to be held at the hotel ritz-carlton on saturday, december the third at ten o'clock_ _please address reply to madison avenue_ [illustration: specimens of formal invitations to a dance] (b) _mr. and mrs. charles elliott request the pleasure of _________________________ company on saturday evening january the sixth, at ten o'clock_ _dancing madison avenue_ an older style of invitation--without the blank for the written name, but instead the word "your" engraved upon the card--is in perfectly good form. the invitation would be like this: (c) _mr. and mrs. charles elliott request the pleasure of your company on saturday evening, january the sixth at ten o'clock_ _dancing madison avenue_ _accepting_ mr. and mrs. john evans accept with pleasure mr. and mrs. elliott's very kind invitation to a cotillion to be held at the hotel ritz-carlton on saturday, december the third at ten o'clock _regretting_ mr. and mrs. john evans regret exceedingly that they are unable to accept mr. and mrs. elliott's kind invitation to attend a dance on saturday, january the sixth in sending a regret the hour is omitted, as, since the recipient will not be present, the time is unimportant. (d) _the honour of your presence is requested at the lincoln's birthday eve ball of the dark hollow country club on monday evening, february eleventh at half-past ten o'clock _ _accepting_ miss evans accepts with pleasure the kind invitation of the dark hollow country club for monday evening, february eleventh at half-past ten o'clock _for christenings_ christenings are sometimes made formal. in such case engraved cards are sent out two or three weeks ahead. a good form is: _mr. and mrs. philip brewster request the pleasure of your company at the christening of their son on sunday afternoon, april seventeenth at three o'clock at the church of the redeemer_ _accepting_ mr. and mrs. charles elliot accept with pleasure mr. and mrs. brewster's kind invitation to attend the christening of their son on sunday afternoon, april seventeenth at three o'clock a reason for not accepting may or may not be given--it is better to put in a reason if you have one. _regretting_ mr. and mrs. charles elliott regret that a previous engagement prevents their accepting mr. and mrs. brewster's kind invitation to the christening of their son on sunday afternoon, april seventeenth informal invitations _for a wedding_ an engraved invitation always implies a somewhat large or elaborate formal function. an informal affair requires simply a written invitation in the first person. the informal wedding is one to which are invited only the immediate family and intimate friends. the reason may be simply the desire for a small, quiet affair or it may be a recent bereavement. the bride-to-be generally writes these invitations. the form may be something like this: (a) june , . dear mrs. smith, on wednesday, june the twelfth, at three o'clock mr. brewster and i are to be married. the ceremony will be at home and we are asking only a few close friends. i hope that you and mr. smith will be able to come. yours very sincerely, dorothy evans. (b) june , . dear mary, owing to the recent death of my sister, mr. brewster and i are to be married quietly at home. the wedding will be on wednesday, june the twentieth, at eleven o'clock. we are asking only a few intimate friends and i shall be so glad if you will come. sincerely yours, dorothy evans. _accepting_ june , . dear dorothy, we shall be delighted to attend your wedding on wednesday, june the twelfth, at three o'clock. we wish you and mr. brewster every happiness. sincerely yours, helen gray smith. _regretting_ june , . dear dorothy, i am so sorry that i shall be unable to attend your wedding. the "adriatic" is sailing on the tenth and father and i have engaged passage. let me wish you and mr. brewster every happiness. sincerely yours, mary lyman. _for dinners and luncheons_ an informal invitation to dinner is sent by the wife, for her husband and herself, to the wife. this invitation must include the latter's husband. it is simply a friendly note. the wife signs her christian name, her maiden name (or more usually the initial of her maiden name), and her married name. five hundred park avenue, december th, . my dear mrs. trent, will you and mr. trent give us the pleasure of your company at a small dinner on tuesday, december the twelfth, at seven o'clock? i hope you will not be otherwise engaged on that evening as we are looking forward to seeing you. very sincerely yours, katherine g. evans. _to cancel an informal dinner invitation_ my dear mrs. trent, on account of the sudden death of my brother, i regret to be obliged to recall the invitation for our dinner on tuesday, december the twelfth. sincerely yours, katherine g. evans. december , . _accepting_ east forty-sixth street, december th, . my dear mrs. evans, mr. trent and i will be very glad to dine with you on tuesday, december the twelfth, at seven o'clock. with kind regards, i am very sincerely yours, charlotte b. trent _regretting_ east forty-sixth street, december th, . my dear mrs. evans, we regret deeply that we cannot accept your kind invitation to dine with you on tuesday, december the twelfth. mr. trent and i, unfortunately, have a previous engagement for that evening. with cordial regards, i am yours very sincerely, charlotte b. trent. _the daughter as hostess_ when a daughter must act as hostess in her father's home, she includes his name in every dinner invitation she issues, as in the following: madison avenue, january , . my dear mrs. evans, father wishes me to ask whether you and mr. evans will give us the pleasure of dining with us on wednesday, january the fifteenth, at quarter past seven o'clock. we do hope you can come. very sincerely yours, edith haines. the answer to this invitation of a daughter-hostess must be sent to the daughter, not to the father. _accepting_ my dear miss haines, we shall be delighted to accept your father's kind invitation to dine with you on wednesday, january the fifteenth, at quarter past seven o'clock. with most cordial wishes, i am very sincerely yours, katherine g. evans. january , _regretting_ my dear miss haines, we regret exceedingly that we cannot accept your father's kind invitation to dine with you on wednesday, january the fifteenth. a previous engagement of mr. evans prevents it. will you convey to him our thanks? very sincerely yours, katherine gerard evans. january , . _adding additional details_ the invitation to an informal dinner may necessarily include some additional details. for example: five hundred park avenue, september , . my dear mr. allen, mr. evans and i have just returned from canada and we hear that you are in new york for a short visit. we should like to have you take dinner with us on friday, the twentieth, at half-past seven o'clock, if your time will permit. we hope you can arrange to come as there are many things back home in old sharon that we are anxious to hear about. yours very sincerely, katherine gerard evans. mr. roger allen hotel gotham new york _accepting_ hotel gotham, september , . my dear mrs. evans, i shall be very glad to accept your kind invitation to dinner on friday, september the twentieth, at half-past seven o'clock. the prospect of seeing you and mr. evans again is very delightful and i am sure i have several interesting things to tell you. yours very sincerely, roger allen. mrs. john evans park avenue new york _regretting_ hotel gotham, september , . my dear mrs. evans, i am sorry to miss the pleasure of accepting your kind invitation to dinner on friday, september the twentieth. a business engagement compels me to leave new york to-morrow. there are indeed many interesting bits of news, but i shall have to wait for a chat until my next visit. with kindest regards to you both, i am very sincerely yours, roger allen. mrs. john evans park avenue new york _a last-moment vacancy:_ a last-moment vacancy may occur in a dinner party. to send an invitation to fill such a vacancy is a matter requiring tact, and the recipient should be made to feel that you are asking him to fill in as a special courtesy. frankly explain the situation in a short note. it might be something like this: park avenue, february , . my dear mr. jarrett, will you help me out? i am giving a little dinner party to-morrow evening and one of my guests, harry talbot, has just told me that on account of a sudden death he cannot be present. it is an awkward situation. if you can possibly come, i shall be very grateful. cordially yours, katherine g. evans. mr. harold jarrett washington square south new york _accepting_ washington square south, february , . my dear mrs. evans, it is indeed a fortunate circumstance for me that harry talbot will not be able to attend your dinner. let me thank you for thinking of me and i shall be delighted to accept. yours very sincerely, harold jarrett. if the recipient of such an invitation cannot accept, he should, in his acknowledgment, give a good reason for declining. it is more considerate to do so. _for an informal luncheon_ an informal luncheon invitation is a short note sent about five to seven days before the affair. park avenue, april , . my dear mrs. emerson, will you come to luncheon on friday, may the fifth, at half-past one o'clock? the misses irving will be here and they want so much to meet you. cordially yours, katherine g. evans. _accepting_ sutton place, may , . my dear mrs. evans, i shall be very glad to take luncheon with you on friday, may the fifth, at half-past one o'clock. it will be a great pleasure to meet the misses irving. with best wishes, i am yours sincerely, grace emerson. _regretting_ sutton place, may , . my dear mrs. evans, thank you for your very kind invitation to luncheon on friday, may the fifth, but i am compelled, with great regret, to decline it. my mother and aunt are sailing for europe on friday and their ship is scheduled to sail at one. i have arranged to see them off. it was good of you to ask me. very sincerely yours, grace emerson. _for an informal tea_ my dear miss harcourt, will you come to tea with me on tuesday afternoon, april the fourth, at four o'clock? i have asked a few of our friends. cordially yours, katherine gerard evans. april first telephone invitations are not good form and may be used only for the most informal occasions. invitations to the theatre, concert, and garden party, are mostly informal affairs and are sent as brief letters. a garden party is a sort of out-of-doors at home. _to a garden party which is not formal or elaborate_ locust lawn, june , . my dear miss burton, will you come to tea with me informally on the lawn on thursday afternoon, july the fourth, at four o'clock? i know you always enjoy tennis and i have asked a few enthusiasts. do try to come. cordially yours, ruth l. anson. such an invitation is acknowledged in kind--by an informal note. it may be of interest to read a letter or two from distinguished persons along these lines. here, for example, is the delightfully informal way in which thomas bailey aldrich invited his friend william h. rideing to dinner on one occasion:[ ] april , . dear rideing: will you come and take an informal bite with me to-morrow (friday) at p. m. at my hamlet, no. charles street? mrs. aldrich and the twins are away from home, and the thing is to be _sans ceremonie_. costume prescribed: sack coat, paper collar, and celluloid sleeve buttons. we shall be quite alone, unless henry james should drop in, as he promises to do if he gets out of an earlier engagement. suppose you drop in at my office to-morrow afternoon about o'clock and i act as pilot to charles street. yours very truly, t. b. aldrich. [ ] from "many celebrities and a few others--a bundle of reminiscences," by william h. rideing. copyright, , by doubleday, page & co. and one from james russell lowell to henry w. longfellow:[ ] elmwood, may , . dear longfellow: will you dine with me on saturday at six? i have a baltimore friend coming, and depend on you. i had such a pleasure yesterday that i should like to share it with you to whom i owed it. j. r. osgood & co. sent me a copy of your household edition to show me what it was, as they propose one of me. i had been reading over with dismay my own poems to weed out the misprints, and was awfully disheartened to find how bad they (the poems) were. then i took your book to see what the type was, and before i knew it i had been reading two hours and more. i never wondered at your popularity, nor thought it wicked in you; but if i _had_ wondered, i should no longer, for you sang me out of all my worries. to be sure they came back when i opened my own book again--but that was no fault of yours. if not saturday, will you say sunday? my friend is a mrs. ----, and a very nice person indeed. yours always, j. r. l. [ ] from "letters of james russell lowell," edited by c. e. norton. copyright, , by harper & bros. george meredith ("robin") accepting an informal dinner invitation from his friend, william hardman ("tuck"):[ ] jan'y , . dear "at any price" tuck: i come. dinner you give me at half-past five, i presume. a note to foakesden, if earlier. let us have ms. for a pipe, before we go. you know we are always better tempered when this is the case. i come in full dress. and do the honour to the duke's motto. i saw my little man off on monday, after expedition over bank and tower. thence to pym's, poultry: oysters consumed by dozings. thence to purcell's: great devastation of pastry. thence to shoreditch, where sons calmly said: "never mind, papa; it is no use minding it. i shall soon be back to you," and so administered comfort to his forlorn dad.--my salute to the conquered one, and i am your loving, hard-druv, much be-bullied robin. [ ] from "the letters of george meredith." copyright, , by charles scribner's sons. by permission of the publishers. _to a theatre_ madison avenue, december , . my dear miss evans, mr. smith and i are planning a small party of friends to see "the mikado" on thursday evening, december the eighteenth, and we hope that you will be among our guests. we have arranged to meet in the lobby of the garrick theatre at quarter after eight o'clock. i do hope you have no other engagement. very cordially yours, gertrude ellison smith. _accepting_ my dear mrs. smith, i shall be delighted to come to your theatre party on thursday evening, december the eighteenth. i shall be in the lobby of the garrick theatre at a quarter past eight o'clock. it is so kind of you to ask me. sincerely yours, ruth evans. december , . _regretting_ my dear mrs. smith, with great regret i must write that i shall be unable to join your theatre party on thursday evening, december the eighteenth. my two cousins are visiting me and we had planned to go to the hippodrome. i much appreciate your thinking of me. very sincerely yours, ruth evans. for an informal affair, if at all in doubt as to what kind of invitation to issue, it is safe to write a brief note in the first person. two or more sisters may receive one invitation addressed "the misses evans." but two bachelor brothers must receive separate invitations. a whole family should never be included in one invitation. it is decidedly not proper to address one envelope to "mr. and mrs. elliott and family." _to an informal dance_ invitations to smaller and more informal dances may be short notes. or a visiting card is sometimes sent with a notation written in ink below the hostess's name and toward the left, as shown below: (a) mrs. john evans at home dancing at half after nine park avenue january the eighteenth r.s.v.p. if the visiting card is used "r.s.v.p." is necessary, because usually invitations on visiting cards do not presuppose answers. the reply to the above may be either formal, in the third person, or may be an informal note. (b) park avenue, january , . my dear mrs. elliott, will you and mr. elliott give us the pleasure of your company on thursday, january the eighteenth, at ten o'clock? we are planning an informal dance and we should be so glad to have you with us. cordially yours, katherine g. evans. an acknowledgment should be sent within a week. never acknowledge a visiting-card invitation by a visiting card. an informal note of acceptance or regret is proper. _accepting_ madison avenue, january , . my dear mrs. evans, both mr. elliott and i shall be delighted to go to your dance on thursday, january the eighteenth, at ten o'clock. thank you so much for asking us. very sincerely yours, jane s. elliott. _regretting_ madison avenue, january , . my dear mrs. evans, thank you for your kind invitation for thursday, january the eighteenth; i am so sorry that mr. elliott and i shall not be able to accept. mr. elliott has been suddenly called out of town and will not be back for two weeks. with most cordial regards, i am very sincerely yours, jane s. elliott. a young girl sends invitations to men in the name of her mother or the person under whose guardianship she is. the invitation would say that her mother, or mrs. burton, or whoever it may be, wishes her to extend the invitation. _to a house-party_ an invitation to a house-party, which may imply a visit of several days' duration (a week, ten days, or perhaps two weeks) must state exactly the dates of the beginning and end of the visit. the hostess's letter should mention the most convenient trains, indicating them on a timetable. the guest at a week-end party knows he is to arrive on friday afternoon or saturday morning and leave on the following monday morning. it is thoughtful for the hostess to give an idea of the activities or sports planned. the letter might be somewhat in the following manner: (a) glory view, august , . dear miss evans, will you be one of our guests at a house-party we are planning? we shall be glad if you can arrange to come out to glory view on august eighth and stay until the seventeenth. i have asked several of your friends, among them mary elliott and her brother. the swimming is wonderful and there is a new float at the yacht club. be sure to bring your tennis racquet and also hiking togs. i enclose a timetable with the best trains marked. if you take the : on thursday you can be here in time for dinner. let me know what train you expect to get and i will have jones meet you. most cordially yours, myra t. maxwell. _accepting_ park avenue, august , . dear mrs. maxwell, let me thank you and mr. maxwell for the invitation to your house-party. i shall be very glad to come. the : train which you suggest is the most convenient. i am looking forward to seeing you again. very sincerely yours, ruth evans. (b) hawthorne hill, january , . my dear anne, we are asking some of dorothy's friends for this week-end and we should be glad to have you join us. some of them you already know, and i am sure you will enjoy meeting the others as they are all congenial. mr. maxwell has just bought a new flexible flyer and we expect some fine coasting. be sure to bring your skates. goldfish pond is like glass. the best afternoon train on friday is the : , and the best saturday morning train is the : . i hope you can come. very sincerely yours, myra t. maxwell. a letter of thanks for hospitality received at a week-end party or a house-party would seem to be obviously necessary. a cordial note should be written to your hostess thanking her for the hospitality received and telling her of your safe arrival home. this sort of letter has come into the title of the "bread-and-butter-letter." park avenue, august , . dear mrs. maxwell, having arrived home safely i must tell you how much i appreciate the thoroughly good time i had. i very much enjoyed meeting your charming guests. let me thank you and mr. maxwell most heartily, and with kindest regards i am sincerely yours, ruth evans. _to a christening_ most christenings are informal affairs. the invitation may run like this: september , . my dear mary, on next sunday at three o'clock, at st. michael's church, the baby will be christened. philip and i should be pleased to have you there. sincerely yours, dorothy evans brewster. _to bring a friend_ often in the case of a dance or an at home we may wish to bring a friend who we think would be enjoyed by the hostess. we might request her permission thus: riverside drive, april , . my dear mrs. dean, may i ask you the favor of bringing with me on wednesday evening, may the second, my old classmate, mr. arthur price? he is an old friend of mine and i am sure you will like him. if this would not be entirely agreeable to you, please do not hesitate to let me know. yours very sincerely, herbert page. _for a card party_ park avenue my dear mrs. king, will you and mr. king join us on thursday evening next at bridge?[ ] we expect to have several tables, and we do hope you can be with us. cordially yours, katherine gerard evans. march the eighteenth [ ] or whatever the game may be. sometimes the visiting card is used with the date and the word "cards" written in the lower corner as in the visiting-card invitation to a dance. this custom is more often used for the more elaborate affairs. _miscellaneous invitations_ the following are variations of informal party and other invitations: woodlawn avenue, november , . my dear alice, i am having a little party on thursday evening next and i want very much to have you come. if you wish me to arrange for an escort, let me know if you have any preference. sincerely yours, helen westley. park avenue, may , . my dear alice, on saturday next i am giving a small party for my niece, miss edith rice of albany, and i should like very much to have her meet you. i hope you can come. very sincerely yours, katherine g. evans. the letter of condolence a letter of condolence may be written to relatives, close friends, and to those whom we know well. when the recipient of the condolatory message is simply an acquaintance, it is in better taste to send a visiting card with "sincere sympathy." flowers may or may not accompany the card. but in any case the letter should not be long, nor should it be crammed with sad quotations and mushy sentiment. of course, at best, writing a condolence is a nice problem. do not harrow feelings by too-familiar allusions to the deceased. the letter should be sent immediately upon receiving news of death. when a card is received, the bereaved family acknowledge it a few weeks later with an engraved acknowledgment on a black-bordered card. a condolatory letter may be acknowledged by the recipient or by a relative or friend who wishes to relieve the bereaved one of this task. _formal acknowledgment engraved on card_ _mrs. gordon burroughs and family gratefully acknowledge your kind expression of sympathy_ the cards, however, may be engraved with a space for the name to be filled in: _____________________________ _gratefully acknowledge_ _____________________________ _kind expression of sympathy_ when the letter of condolence is sent from a distance, it is acknowledged by a note from a member of the bereaved family. when the writer of the condolence makes the customary call afterward, the family usually makes a verbal acknowledgment and no written reply is required. _letters of condolence_ (a) my dear mrs. burroughs, may every consolation be given you in your great loss. kindly accept my deepest sympathy. sincerely yours, jane everett. october , (b) my dear mrs. burroughs, it is with the deepest regret that we learn of your bereavement. please accept our united and heartfelt sympathies. very sincerely yours, katherine gerard evans. october , (c) my dear eleanor, may i express my sympathy for you in the loss of your dear mother, even though there can be no words to comfort you? she was so wonderful to all of us that we can share in some small part in your grief. with love, i am affectionately yours, ruth evans. july , (d) my dear mrs. burroughs, i am sorely grieved to learn of the death of your husband, for whom i had the greatest admiration and regard. please accept my heartfelt sympathy. yours sincerely, douglas spencer. october , a letter of condolence that is something of a classic is abraham lincoln's famous letter to mrs. bixby, the bereaved mother of five sons who died for their country: washington, november , . dear madam: i have been shown in the files of the war department a statement of the adjutant-general of massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle. i feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. but i cannot refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the republic they died to save. i pray that our heavenly father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom. yours very sincerely and respectfully, abraham lincoln. this is the letter[ ] that robert e. lee, when he was president of washington college, wrote to the father of a student who was drowned: washington college, lexington, virginia, march , . my dear sir: before this you have learned of the affecting death of your son. i can say nothing to mitigate your grief or to relieve your sorrow: but if the sincere sympathy of his comrades and friends and of the entire community can bring you any consolation, i can assure you that you possess it in its fullest extent. when one, in the pureness and freshness of youth, before having been contaminated by sin or afflicted by misery, is called to the presence of his merciful creator, it must be solely for his good. as difficult as this may be for you now to recognize, i hope you will keep it constantly in your memory and take it to your comfort; pray that he who in his wise providence has permitted this crushing sorrow may sanctify it to the happiness of all. your son and his friend, mr. birely, often passed their leisure hours in rowing on the river, and, on last saturday afternoon, the th inst., attempted what they had more than once been cautioned against--to approach the foot of the dam, at the public bridge. unfortunately, their boat was caught by the return-current, struck by the falling water, and was immediately upset. their perilous position was at once seen from the shore, and aid was hurried to their relief, but before it could reach them both had perished. efforts to restore your son's life, though long continued, were unavailing. mr. birely's body was not found until next morning. their remains were, yesterday, sunday, conveyed to the episcopal church in this city, where the sacred ceremonies for the dead were performed by the reverend dr. pendleton, who nineteen years ago, at the far-off home of their infancy, placed upon them their baptismal vows. after the service a long procession of the professors and students of the college, the officers and cadets of the virginia military academy, and the citizens of lexington accompanied their bodies to the packetboat for lynchburg, where they were placed in charge of messrs. wheeler & baker to convey them to frederick city. with great regard and sincere sympathy, i am, most respectfully, r. e. lee. [ ] from "recollections and letters of general robert e. lee," by capt. robert e. lee. copyright, , by doubleday, page & co. letters of sympathy in case of illness when president alderman, of the university of virginia, was forced to take a long rest in the mountains in because of incipient tuberculosis, the late walter h. page, at the time editor of the _world's work_, wrote the following tenderly beautiful letter of sympathy to mrs. alderman: cathedral avenue, garden city, l. i., december , . my dear mrs. alderman: in raleigh the other day i heard a rumor of the sad news that your letter brings, which i have just received on my return from a week's absence. i had been hoping that it was merely a rumor. the first impression i have is thankfulness that it had been discovered so soon and that you have acted so promptly. on this i build a great hope. but underlying every thought and emotion is the sadness of it--that it should have happened to _him_, now when he has done that prodigious task and borne that hard strain and was come within sight of a time when, after a period of more normal activity, he would in a few years have got the period of rest that he has won.--but these will all come yet; for i have never read a braver thing than your letter. that bravery on your part and his, together with the knowledge the doctors now have, will surely make his recovery certain and, i hope, not long delayed. if he keep on as well as he has begun, you will, i hope, presently feel as if you were taking a vacation. forget that it is enforced. there comes to my mind as i write man after man in my acquaintance who have successfully gone through this experience and without serious permanent hurt. some of them live here. more of them live in north carolina or colorado as a precaution. i saw a few years ago a town most of whose population of several thousand persons are recovered and active, after such an experience. the disease has surely been robbed of much of its former terror. your own courage and cheerfulness, with his own, are the best physic in the world. add to these the continuous and sincere interest that his thousands of friends feel--these to keep your courage up, if it should ever flag a moment--and we shall all soon have the delight to see and to hear him again--his old self, endeared, if that be possible, by this experience. and i pray you, help me (for i am singularly helpless without suggestions from you) to be of some little service--of any service that i can. would he like letters from me? i have plenty of time and an eagerness to write them, if they would really divert or please him. books? what does he care most to read? i can, of course, find anything in new york. a visit some time? it would be a very real pleasure to me. you will add to my happiness greatly if you will frankly enable me to add even the least to his. and now and always give him my love. that is precisely the word i mean; for, you know, i have known mr. alderman since he was graduated, and i have known few men better or cared for them more. and i cannot thank you earnestly enough for your letter; and i shall hope to have word from you often--if (when you feel indisposed to write more) only a few lines. how can i serve? command me without a moment's hesitation. most sincerely yours, walter h. page. to mrs. edwin a. alderman. joaquin miller wrote the following letter to walt whitman on receiving news that the latter was ill: revere house, boston, may , ' . my dear walt whitman:[ ] your kind letter is received and the sad news of your ill health makes this pleasant weather even seem tiresome and out of place. i had hoped to find you the same hale and whole man i had met in new york a few years ago and now i shall perhaps find you bearing a staff all full of pain and trouble. however my dear friend as you have sung from _within_ and not from _without_ i am sure you will be able to bear whatever comes with that beautiful faith and philosophy you have ever given us in your great and immortal chants. i am coming to see you very soon as you request; but i cannot say to-day or set to-morrow for i am in the midst of work and am not altogether my own master. but i will come and we will talk it all over together. in the meantime, remember that whatever befall you you have the perfect love and sympathy of many if not all of the noblest and loftiest natures of the two hemispheres. my dear friend and fellow toiler good by. yours faithfully, joaquin miller. [ ] from "with walt whitman in camden," by horace traubel. copyright, , , by doubleday, page & co. when theodore roosevelt was ill in hospital, lawrence abbott wrote him this letter:[ ] please accept this word of sympathy and best wishes. some years ago i had a severe attack of sciatica which kept me in bed a good many days: in fact, it kept me in an armchair night and day some of the time because i could not lie down, so i know what the discomfort and pain are. i want to take this opportunity also of sending you my congratulations. for i think your leadership has had very much to do with the unconditional surrender of germany. last friday night i was asked to speak at the men's club of the church of the messiah in this city and they requested me to make you the subject of my talk. i told them something about your experience in egypt and europe in and said what i most strongly believe, that your address at the sorbonne--in strengthening the supporters of law and order against red bolshevism--and your address in guildhall--urging the british to govern or go--contributed directly to the success of those two governments in this war. if great britain had allowed egypt to get out of hand instead of, as an actual result of your guildhall speech, sending kitchener to strengthen the feebleness of sir eldon gorst, the turks and germans might have succeeded in their invasion and have cut off the suez canal. so you laid the ground for preparedness not only in this country but in france and england. i know it was a disappointment to you not to have an actual share in the fighting but i think you did a greater piece of work in preparing the battleground and the battle spirit. [ ] from "impressions of theodore roosevelt," by lawrence f. abbott copyright, , by doubleday, page & co. in reply mr. roosevelt sent mr. abbott this note: that's a dear letter of yours, lawrence. i thank you for it and i appreciate it to the full. _acknowledgments_ (a) my dear mr. spencer, i am grateful to you for your comforting letter. thank you for your sympathy. sincerely yours, mary cole burroughs. october , . (b) my dear mrs. evans, let me thank you in behalf of myself and my family for your sympathy. do not measure our appreciation by the length of time it has taken me to reply. we appreciated your letter deeply. sincerely yours, mary cole burroughs. october , . (c) my dear arthur, i want to thank you for your sympathetic letter received in our bereavement. sincerely yours, mary cole burroughs. october , . (d) dear mr. treadwell, thank you very much for your sympathy. your offer to be of service to me at this time i greatly appreciate, but i shall not need to trouble you, although it is comforting to know that i may call on you. i shall never forget your kindness. sincerely yours, mary cole burroughs. october , . this is the note[ ] that thomas bailey aldrich wrote to his friend william h. rideing upon receiving from the latter a note of condolence: dear rideing: i knew that you would be sorry for us. i did not need your sympathetic note to tell me that. our dear boy's death has given to three hearts--his mother's, his brother's and mine--a wound that will never heal. i cannot write about it. my wife sends her warm remembrance with mine to you both. ever faithfully your friend, t. b. aldrich. [ ] from "many celebrities and a few others--a bundle of reminiscences," by william h. rideing. copyright, , by doubleday, page & co. letters of congratulation the letter of congratulation must be natural, not stilted, and must be sincere. in congratulating a new acquaintance on a marriage it is not necessary to send more than the visiting card with "heartiest congratulations." to a bride and groom together a telegram of congratulation may be sent on the day of the wedding, as soon as possible after the ceremony. to a bride one does not send congratulations, but "the best of good wishes." the congratulations are for the groom. the following letters will serve as examples for congratulatory letters for different occasions: _on a birthday_ park avenue, february , . my dear mrs. elliott, congratulations on your birthday! i hope that all your years to come will be as happy and as helpful to others as those past. i am sending you a little gift as a token of appreciation for your kindness to me, which i hope you will enjoy. most sincerely yours, katherine g. evans. _from a gentlemen to a young lady on her birthday_ park avenue, april , . my dear miss judson, may i send you my congratulations on this your birthday? i am sending a little token of my best wishes for you for many years to come. yours sincerely, richard evans. _on a wedding day anniversary_ park avenue, june , . my dear charlotte and george, please accept my heartiest good wishes on this, the fifteenth anniversary of your marriage. may the years to come bring every blessing to you both. sincerely yours, katherine gerard evans. (b) park avenue, december , . my dear mrs. smith, congratulations on this the twentieth anniversary of your wedding. our heartiest wishes to you both from mr. evans and me. yours very sincerely, katherine gerard evans. _on the birth of a child_ east th st., august , . my dear dorothy, congratulations upon the birth of your daughter. may the good fairies shower upon her the gifts of goodness, wisdom, and beauty. very sincerely yours, charlotte b. trent. _on a graduation_ park avenue, june , . my dear john, it is with great pleasure that i hear of your graduation this year. it is a fine thing to have so successfully finished your college course. may i send my heartiest congratulations? sincerely yours, ruth evans. _on an engagement_ in writing to a girl or a man on the occasion of an engagement to be married there is no general rule if one knows the man or woman. one may write as one wishes. if a stranger is to be received into the family, one writes a kindly letter. odell avenue, april , . my dear haines, let me be among the first to congratulate you on your engagement to miss bruce. i have not met her but i know that to reach your high ideals she must indeed be a wonderful girl. i hope i may soon have the pleasure of meeting her. sincerely yours, charles lawson. park avenue, may , . my dear miss bruce, my nephew has told me his great news. i am much pleased to hear that you are soon to come into the family, because i know that the girl of edward's choice must be sweet and charming. i hope that you will learn to love us for our own sake as well as for edward's. sincerely yours, katherine g. evans. park avenue, september , . dear helen, the announcement of your engagement to robert haines is a delightful surprise. he is, as we all know, a splendid chap. i am so happy that this great happiness has come to you. i hope that i may hear all about it, and with best wishes to you both, i am affectionately yours, ruth evans. on the subject of engagements, perhaps the following letter from charles lamb to fanny kelly, and her reply, will be of interest--though the unarduous and somewhat prosaic tone of elia's proposal of marriage--beautifully expressed as it is--is hardly to be recommended as a model calculated to bring about the desired result! dear miss kelly: we had the pleasure, _pain_ i might better call it, of seeing you last night in the new play. it was a most consummate piece of acting, but what a task for you to undergo! at a time when your heart is sore from real sorrow it has given rise to a train of thinking, which i cannot suppress. would to god you were released from this way of life; that you could bring your mind to consent to take your lot with us, and throw off forever the whole burden of your profession. i neither expect nor wish you to take notice of this which i am writing, in your present over occupied and hurried state--but to think of it at your leisure. i have quite income enough, if that were all, to justify for me making such a proposal, with what i may call even a handsome provision for my survivor. what you possess of your own would naturally be appropriated to those, for whose sakes chiefly you have made so many hard sacrifices. i am not so foolish as not to know that i am a most unworthy match for such a one as you, but you have for years been a principal object in my mind. in many a sweet assumed character i have learned to love you, but simply as f. m. kelly i love you better than them all. can you quit these shadows of existence, and come and be a reality to us? can you leave off harassing yourself to please a thankless multitude, who know nothing of you, and begin at last to live to yourself and your friends? as plainly and frankly as i have seen you give or refuse assent in some feigned scene, so frankly do me the justice to answer me. it is impossible i should feel injured or aggrieved by your telling me at once, that the proposal does not suit you. it is impossible that i should ever think of molesting you with idle importunity and prosecution after your mind [is] once firmly spoken--but happier, far happier, could i have leave to hope a time might come, when our friends might be your friends; our interests yours; our book knowledge, if in that inconsiderable particular we have any like advantage, might impart something to you, which you would every day have it in your power ten thousand fold to repay by the added cheerfulness and joy which you could not fail to bring as a dowry into whatever family should have the honor and happiness of receiving _you_, the most welcome accession that could be made to it. in haste, but with entire respect and deepest affection, i subscribe myself c. lamb. to this letter miss kelly replied: henrietta street, july , . an early and deeply rooted attachment has fixed my heart on one from whom no worldly prospect can well induce me to withdraw it, but while i thus _frankly_ and decidedly decline your proposal, believe me, i am not insensible to the high honour which the preference of such a mind as yours confers upon me--let me, however, hope that all thought upon this subject will end with this letter, and that you will henceforth encourage no other sentiment towards me than esteem in my private character and a continuance of that approbation of my humble talents which you have already expressed so much and so often to my advantage and gratification. believe me i feel proud to acknowledge myself your obliged friend, f. m. kelly. to c. lamb, esq. letters of introduction letters of introduction should not be given indiscriminately. if the giver of the letter feels that something of benefit may come to both of the persons concerned, then there is no doubt about the advisability of it. but a letter of introduction should not be given to get rid of the person who asks for it. it is not good form to ask for one. if it is really necessary to have one and the friend to be requested knows that you need it, he will probably give you the letter unsolicited. a letter of introduction should not be sealed by the person giving it. it is written in social form and placed in an unsealed envelope addressed to the person to whom the introduction is made. if the letter is a friendly letter, it is enclosed in an additional envelope by the person who requested the letter, sealed, and with his card on which appears his city address, sent to the person addressed. the person addressed, upon the receipt of the letter, calls within three days upon the person who is introduced. it has been customary to deliver a business letter of introduction in person, but on consideration, it would seem that this is not the wisest course. the letters of introduction most in demand are those to very busy men--men of affairs. if one calls personally at the office of such a man, the chance of seeing him on the occasion of presenting the letter is slight. and, as has often been proved in practice, a telephone call to arrange an appointment seldom gets through. the best plan seems to be to mail the letter with a short note explaining the circumstances under which it was written. sometimes (more often in business) an introduction is made by a visiting card with "introducing mr. halliday" written at the top. this method may be used with a person with whom we are not well acquainted. this introductory card is usually presented in person, but what has been said concerning the letter applies here also. matters of a personal or private nature should not appear in letters of introduction. (a) new york, n. y., june , . dear dick, the bearer of this note, mr. donald ritchie of boston, expects to be in your town for six months or so. he is an old friend of mine--in fact, i knew him at college--and i think you would like him. he is going to black rock in the interest of the sedgwick cement company. he knows nobody in black rock, and anything you can do to make his stay pleasant, i shall greatly appreciate. cordially yours, john hope. (b) canajoharie, new york, june , . my dear mrs. evans, this will introduce to you miss caroline wagner who is the daughter of one of my oldest friends. she will be in new york this winter to continue her music studies. she is a girl of charming personality and has many accomplishments. i am sure you will enjoy her company. she is a stranger in new york and any courtesy you may extend to her i shall be deeply grateful for. very sincerely yours, edna hamilton miller. mrs. john evans park avenue new york, n. y. (c) beacon street, boston, mass., march , . my dear brent, the bearer, william jones, is a young acquaintance of mine who is going to live in cleveland. if there is anything you can do without too much trouble to yourself in recommending a place to board, or assisting him to a situation, i shall be grateful. he has good habits, and if he gets a foothold i am sure he will make good. yours sincerely, robert t. hill. another letter, already immortal as a literary gem, is benjamin franklin's "model of a letter of recommendation of a person you are unacquainted with": sir, the bearer of this, who is going to america, presses me to give him a letter of recommendation, though i know nothing of him, not even his name. this may seem extraordinary, but i assure you it is not uncommon here. sometimes, indeed, one unknown person brings another equally unknown, to recommend him; and sometimes they recommend one another! as to this gentleman, i must refer you to himself for his character and merits, with which he is certainly better acquainted than i can possibly be. i recommend him, however, to those civilities, which every stranger, of whom one knows no harm, has a right to; and i request you will do him all the good offices, and show him all the favor, that, on further acquaintance, you shall find him to deserve. i have the honor to be, etc. letters of thanks _for a wedding gift_ the letter of thanks for a wedding gift must be sent as soon as possible after the receipt of the gift. the bride herself must write it. when the wedding is hurried or when gifts arrive at the last moment, the bride is not required to acknowledge them until after the honeymoon. in all cases the gift is acknowledged both for herself and her husband-elect or husband. (a) east rd street may , . my dear mrs. elliott, the bouillon spoons are exquisite. it was simply lovely of you to send us such a beautiful gift. leonard wishes to express with me our deepest appreciation. with all good wishes, i am sincerely yours, dorothy evans duncan. (b) east rd street may , . my dear mrs. callender, this is the first opportunity i have had to thank you for your wonderful gift. but, as you know, our arrangements were changed at the last moment and many of our wedding gifts we did not have time to open before going away. so we hope you will forgive us for the delay. we are now back in town established in our new home and i want you to know how appropriate are those exquisite candlesticks. mr. duncan and i are both deeply grateful for your thought of us. yours most sincerely, dorothy evans duncan. _for a christmas gift_ bolton place december , . my dear alice, your handsome christmas gift is something i have wanted for a long time, but never could get for myself. the bag and its beautiful fittings are much admired. i send my warmest thanks for your thoughtfulness in selecting it. very sincerely yours, mary scott. _for a gift received by a girl from a man_ ellsworth place april , . my dear mr. everett, thank you for your good wishes and for your lovely gift in remembrance of my birthday. it is a charming book and one which i am very anxious to read. it was most kind of you to think of me. sincerely yours, katherine judson. _for a gift to a child_ east th street, december , . my dear mr. basset, your wonderful christmas gift to barbara came this morning. she is wholly captivated with her beautiful doll and i am sure would thank you for it if she could talk. let me thank you for your kindness in remembering her. cordially yours, dorothy evans brewster. _for a gift to another_ maxwell avenue, bayview, long island, july , . my dear mr. haines, i appreciate very much the exquisite flowers which you so kindly sent to mrs. evans. she is rapidly improving and will soon be about again. we send our warmest thanks. very sincerely yours, john evans. _for favor shown to another_ park avenue, november , . my dear mrs. howard, you were very kind indeed in entertaining my cousin, mrs. douglas, during her stay in your city. i am exceedingly grateful and i hope to find some way of reciprocating. very sincerely yours, katherine g. evans. following are actual letters of thanks written by distinguished persons. here is one[ ] from george meredith to lady granby, acknowledging the receipt of a reproduction of a portrait by her of lady marjorie manners: box hill, dorking, dec. , . dear lady granby: it is a noble gift, and bears the charms to make it a constant pleasure with me. i could have wished for the full face of your daughter, giving eyes and the wild sweep of hair, as of a rivule issuing from under low eaves of the woods--so i remember her. you have doubtless other sketches of a maid predestined to be heroine. i could take her for one. all the women and children are heaven's own, and human still, and individual too. behold me, your most grateful george meredith. [ ] from "letters of george meredith." copyright, , by chas. scribner's sons. by permission of the publishers. from lord alfred tennyson to walt whitman:[ ] farringford, freshwater, isle of wight, jan'y th, . dear old man: i the elder old man have received your article in the _critic_, and send you in return my thanks and new year's greeting on the wings of this east-wind, which, i trust, is blowing softlier and warmlier on your good gray head than here, where it is rocking the elms and ilexes of my isle of wight garden. yours always, tennyson. [ ] this and the following four letters are from "with walt whitman in camden," by horace traubel. copyright, , , , , by doubleday, page & co. from ellen terry to walt whitman: grand pacific hotel, chicago, january th, ' . honored sir--and dear poet: i beg you to accept my appreciative thanks for your great kindness in sending me by mr. stoker the little _big_ book of poems--as a strong bird, etc., etc. since i am not personally known to you i conclude mr. stoker "asked" for me--it was good of him--i know he loves you very much. god bless you, dear sir--believe me to be with much respect yours affectionately, ellen terry. from moncure conway to walt whitman: hardwicke cottage, wimbledon common, london, s. w., sept. , ' . my dear friend: it gave me much pleasure to hear from you; now i am quite full of gratitude for the photograph--a grand one--the present of all others desirable to me. the copy suitable for an edition here should we be able to reach to that i have and shall keep carefully. when it is achieved it will probably be the result and fruit of more reviewing and discussion. i shall keep my eyes wide open; and the volume with o'c.'s introduction shall come out just as it is: i am not sure but that it will in the end have to be done at our own expense--which i believe would be repaid. it is the kind of book that if it can once get out here will sell. the english groan for something better than the perpetual réchauffé of their literature. i have not been in london for some little time and have not yet had time to consult others about the matter. i shall be able to write you more satisfactorily a little later. i hear that you have written something in _the galaxy_. pray tell o'connor i shall look to him to send me such things. i can't take all american magazines; but if you intend to write for _the galaxy_ regularly i shall take that. with much friendship for you and o'connor and his wife, i am yours, moncure conway. from john addington symonds to walt whitman: clifton hill house, bristol, july , . dear mr. whitman: i was away from england when your welcome volumes reached me, and since my return (during the last six weeks) i have been very ill with an attack of hemorrhage from the lung--brought on while i was riding a pulling horse at a time when i was weak from cold. this must account for my delay in writing to thank you for them and to express the great pleasure which your inscription in two of the volumes has given me. i intend to put into my envelope a letter to you with some verses from one of your great admirers in england. it is my nephew--the second son of my sister. i gave him a copy of _leaves of grass_ in , and he knows a great portion of it now by heart. though still so young, he has developed a considerable faculty for writing and is an enthusiastic student of literature as well as a frank vigorous lively young fellow. i thought you might like to see how some of the youth of england is being drawn towards you. believe me always sincerely and affectionately yours. j. a. symonds. from edward everett hale to dr. lyman abbott:[ ] jan. , , roxbury, monday morning. dear dr. abbott: i shall stay at home this morning--so i shall not see you. all the same i want to thank you again for the four sermons: and to say that i am sure they will work lasting good for the congregation. more than this. i think you ought to think that such an opportunity to go from church to church and city to city--gives you a certain opportunity and honour--which even in plymouth pulpit a man does not have--and to congregations such a turning over the new leaf means a great deal. did you ever deliver the lectures on preaching at new haven? with love always, always yours, e. e. hale. [ ] from "silhouettes of my contemporaries," by lyman abbott. copyright, , by doubleday, page & co. from friedrich nietzsche to karl fuchs:[ ] sils-maria, oberengadine, switzerland, june , . my dear friend: how strange! how strange! as soon as i was able to transfer myself to a cooler clime (for in turin the thermometer stood at day after day) i intended to write you a nice letter of thanks. a pious intention, wasn't it? but who could have guessed that i was not only going back to a cooler clime, but into the _most ghastly_ weather, weather that threatened to shatter my health! winter and summer in senseless alternation; twenty-six avalanches in the thaw; and now we have just had eight days of rain with the sky almost always grey--this is enough to account for my profound nervous exhaustion, together with the return of my old ailments. i don't think i can ever remember having had worse weather, and this in my sils-maria, whither i always fly in order to escape bad weather. is it to be wondered at that even the parson here is acquiring the habit of swearing? from time to time in conversation his speech halts, and then he always swallows a curse. a few days ago, just as he was coming out of the snow-covered church, he thrashed his dog and exclaimed: "the confounded cur spoiled the whole of my sermon!"... yours in gratitude and devotion, nietzsche. [ ] from "selected letters of friedrich nietzsche," edited by oscar levy. copyright, , by doubleday, page & co. in making a donation of £ , for branch libraries in the city of glasgow, this is the letter[ ] that andrew carnegie sent to the lord provost of the city council: my dear lord provost: it will give me pleasure to provide the needed £ , for branch libraries, which are sure to prove of great advantage to the masses of the people. it is just fifty years since my parents with their little boys sailed from broomielaw for new york in the barque _wiscassett_, tons, and it is delightful to be permitted to commemorate the event upon my visit to you. glasgow has done so much in municipal affairs to educate other cities, and to help herself, that it is a privilege to help her. let glasgow flourish! so say all of us scotsmen throughout the world. always yours, andrew carnegie. [ ] from "andrew carnegie, the man and his work," by bernard alderson. copyright, , by doubleday, page & co. letters between friends dear grace, your 'phone call surely caught me napping; but after an hour or so of effort i did recall just how sato mixed the shrimps and carrots in the dish which you so much enjoyed. first, catch your shrimp! when they have been cleaned and prepared as for a salad, place on ice and _in_ ice, if possible. grate the carrots on the coarse side of the grater, placing immediately on the salad plates, which of course have already been garnished with lettuce leaves. then add just a fine sprinkling of chopped apples (i find this the best substitute for alligator pears) and then the shrimps. pour over this the mayonnaise and serve at once. i do not know what he called it and could not spell it if i did, but you are at liberty to call it anything you like. at all events, i am sure the crowd will agree it is a little different, and i am glad to have been able to give the idea. cordially yours, ruth wilson. july , my dear mrs. sampson, i am so glad to know that you have completely recovered from your recent illness. i trust you will soon be able to resume your wonted activities. we all have missed you--at bridge and tennis particularly. sincerely yours, mary e. wells. july , my dear mr. baines, i have just heard of your success in getting your book published. i have always had a great admiration for you and your work, and i am sending this little note to assure you of my regard, and to wish you still further successes. yours very sincerely, madeleine strickland. march , my dear miss gwynne, i am very sorry that i was out when you called. i hope you will come again soon for i do so much want to see you. sincerely yours, katherine g. evans. february , it may be of passing interest to read a letter or two from distinguished persons to their boyhood friends. here is one[ ] from the late john burroughs: esopus, n. y., june , . dear tom brown: i have been a-fishing or i should have answered your letter before. i always go a-fishing about this time of year, after speckled trout, and i always catch some, too. but dog-fighting i have nothing to do with, unless it be to help some little dog whip some saucy big cur. game birds are all right in their season, but i seldom hunt them. yet this is about the best way to study them. you want to know how i felt as a boy. very much as i do now, only more so. i loved fishing, and tramping, and swimming more than i do these late years. but i had not so tender a heart. i was not so merciful to the birds and animals as i am now. much of what i have put in my books was gathered while a boy on the farm. i am interested in what you tell me of your band of mercy, and should like much to see you all, and all the autographs in that pink covered book. well, youth is the time to cultivate habits of mercy, and all other good habits. the bees will soon be storing their clover honey, and i trust you boys and girls are laying away that which will by and by prove choicest possessions. sincerely your friend, john burroughs. [ ] from "john burroughs, boy and man," by dr. clara barrus. copyright, , by doubleday, page & co. the following letter[ ] was written when j. j. hill--perhaps the greatest railroading genius america has ever produced--was twenty years of age. it is one of the few letters written by him at this time of his life that have been preserved: saint paul, february , . dear william: your epistle bearing date of seventeenth ult. came to hand on good time and your fertile imagination can scarcely conceive what an amount of pleasure i derived from it, as it was the first epistle of william to james at st. paul for a "long back." my surprise at receiving your letter was only surpassed by my surprise at not receiving one from you after you left st. paul, or sometime during the ensuing season. still, a good thing is never too late or "done too often." it gave me much pleasure to hear that you were all well and enjoying yourselves in the good and pious (as i learn) little town of rockwood. i did intend to go to canada this winter, but it is such a long winter trip i thought i should defer it until summer, when i hope to be able to get away, as i intend to go on the river this summer if all goes as well as i expect. capt. w. f. davidson wrote me from cincinnati about going with him as first clerk on the side-wheel packet _frank steele_, a new boat about the size of the _war eagle_. the captain is letter a, no. , and i think i shall go with him. if not, i have two or three good offers for coming season on the levee, besides my present berth, which is nevertheless very comfortable. i think it mighty strange that some (of my letters) have not reached home as i wrote several times to my brother alex. and i never was more surprised in my life than when old bass handed me a letter of inquiry as to my whereabouts. but after the boats stop running our mails are carried so irregularly that whole bags of mail matter are often mislaid at way stations for weeks and some finally lost or otherwise destroyed. on the tenth of november last i was returning from the winslow house with charley coffin, clerk of the _war eagle_, about eleven o'clock, and when we were coming down fourth street passing one of those rum holes, two irishmen, red mouths, came out and, following us, asked us if we would not go back and take a drink. charley said "no," and we were passing on when two more met us who, along with the other two, insisted that they meant no harm and that we should go in and drink. i told them that i did not drink and that, generally speaking, i knew what i was about. we attempted to go on, but they tried to have us go back, so i hauled off and planted one, two in paddie's grub grinder, and knocked him off the sidewalk about eight feet. the remainder pitched in and charley got his arm cut open and i got a button hole cut through my left side right below the ribs. the city police came to the noise and arrested three of them on the spot and the other next day and they turned out to be chicago star cleaners, a name given to midnight ruffians. i was not compelled to keep my bed, but it was some two months before i was quite recovered from the effects of the cut. one day on the levee i was going aboard one of the boats and slipped on the gang plank and sprained my knee, which laid me up for about two weeks. about a week ago my pugnacious friend who gave me his mark escaped from the penitentiary at stillwater, along with all the rest of the prisoners confined at the time. i am sincerely very grateful to you for your generous offer in your letter and fully appreciate your kindness. but notwithstanding my bad luck i have still "a shot in the locker," about $ , which will put me out of any trouble until spring. our winter here has been very mild and open. we have scarcely had any snow, but what was altogether unprecedented, rain storms lasting three or four days in succession. times have been mighty dull here this winter and money scarce. write to me as soon as you receive this and give me a bird's eye view of rockwood and its inhabitants. believe me yours sincerely, j. j. hill. send me some papers. [ ] from "the life of james j. hill," by joseph gilpin pyle. copyright, , , by doubleday, page & co. chapter vi personal business letters one does not have to be in business in order to write "business letters." a thousand personal affairs crop up which require letters of a commercial rather than a social nature. there is only one rule--say what you have to say clearly and quickly. although the letter should be written on the ordinary social stationery and follow the placing and spacing of the social letter, no time should be wasted in trying to make the letter appear friendly and chatty. the clerks in business houses who usually attend to the mail seem to be picked for their obtuseness, and do not often understand a letter which is phrased in other than commonplace terms. once i overheard a conversation between an italian shoemaker and a boston woman over the repairing of a pair of shoes. the woman wanted the soles fastened on with nails. the only word she knew for that operation was "tapped." the only word the shoemaker knew was "nailed." they were absolutely at a deadlock until the shoemaker, knowing that the woman did not want the soles sewed on, proceeded to demonstrate with hammer and nail just what he meant by "nailed." it is well to remember that motion pictures do not accompany letters and hence to take for granted that if a way exists for getting what you mean wrong that way will be found. it is unfortunately safe to take for granted that a personal business letter is going to be read by a moron. _ordering goods from a department store_ park avenue, april , . l. burton & company, fifth ave. & th st., new york gentlemen: please send me as soon as possible and charge to my account the following goods: doz. hemstitched huck towels, large size, from $ . to $ . a dozen pairs infants' laced shoes, sizes d and - / d. one pair to be returned as i am not certain of the correct size. pairs children's rompers, size years, band knee, all white, white with blue collar, white with pink collar. very truly yours, katherine g. evans (mrs. john evans) _to correct an error_ park avenue, april , . caldwell sons co., fifth avenue, new york, n. y. gentlemen: may i call your attention to my account rendered on april st? there would seem to be two errors, as follows: under date of march th i am charged with four pairs of silk stockings at $ . a pair, although i purchased only three pairs. on march nd i am credited with one pair of children's shoes at $ . . i had two pairs sent on approval, but returned both of them as neither pair fitted. i enclose my check in the sum of $ . which is the total less the overcharge. to assist in the adjustment i also enclose the original slip for the stockings and the driver's call receipt for the two pairs of shoes.[ ] very truly yours, katherine g. evans. (mrs. john evans) [ ] or instead of enclosing these slips it is often better to mention the numbers that appear on them and to retain the slips themselves. _letter to department store requesting charge account_ south elm street, chicago, ill., may , . marshall field & co., chicago, ill. gentlemen: i have recently come to live in chicago and i should like to open a charge account with you. my present accounts are all in new york and i can give you the following references: lord & taylor tiffany & co. abercrombie & fitch co. j. & j. slater lincoln trust co. very truly yours, alberta t. white. (mrs. james white) _asking for estimate for draperies and furnishings_ park avenue, may , . forsythe & white, fifth avenue, new york, n. y. gentlemen: will you send me an approximate estimate of the cost of materials and labor necessary for the doing of the following work: slip covers with valances of english hand-blocked linen for two large wing chairs and one chaise-longue. two reversible portières of the linen for doorways feet high and feet wide. three pairs curtains for casement windows feet high and feet wide, with pleated valance. these curtains to be of habutai silk. of course i shall understand that this is purely an approximate estimate. i should like to have this as soon as you can conveniently send it. very truly yours, katherine g. evans. (mrs. john evans) _declining to have work done as estimated_ park avenue, may , . forsythe & white, fifth avenue, new york, n. y. gentlemen: thank you for your letter of th may in answer to mine of the th, requesting an estimate for slip covers and curtains. your estimate calls for more outlay than i should care to make at the present time, so i shall have to postpone the matter until next year. very truly yours, katherine g. evans. (mrs. john evans) _recommendation for a servant_ june , . this is to certify that katrina hellman has been in my employ as assistant nurse for one year. during that period i have found her honest, capable, and reliable. i can give her an unqualified recommendation. k. g. evans. (mrs. john evans) _for information concerning a servant_ deming place chicago, ill., may , . mrs. john evans, park avenue, new york. dear madam: i hope you will pardon me, but i should be very much indebted to you for any facts concerning gaston duval, who has been in your employ as chauffeur. if you will give me this information i shall treat it as confidential. yours very truly, cecelia b. duke. (mrs. samuel duke) _answers to request for information concerning a servant_ park avenue, new york city, may , . mrs. samuel duke, deming place, chicago, ill. dear madam: i have your inquiry of may the ninth concerning my former chauffeur, gaston duval. i am very glad to recommend him. he is sober and honest, and i always found him thoroughly dependable during his fifteen months in my employ. he drives well and is an expert mechanician. yours very truly, k. g. evans, (mrs. john evans) park avenue, new york, n. y., may , . mrs. samuel duke, deming place, chicago, ill. dear madam: i have your inquiry of may the ninth concerning my former chauffeur, gaston duval. i hope that you will not think me discourteous but i should much prefer not to discuss him. yours very truly, k. g. evans. (mrs. john evans) (in letters which in effect decline to give a recommendation it is wiser not to set out facts or even actually to decline to give the recommendation. see chapter xi on the law of letters. the following letter to a servant, which is an indirect way of declining to recommend, is on the danger line.) _to a servant_ harbor view, long island, august , . my dear margaret, mrs. hubert forbes has written me concerning your qualifications as cook, and asks if i would recommend you in every way. also i have your request to me for a reference. with regard to your skill in cooking there can be no question. i can recommend you as having served me for two years and i can vouch for your honesty. but, as you know, you are not to be depended on--for instance, to return promptly after your days off or to do any work at all during your frequent disputes with the butler. this i have told mrs. forbes. i could not conscientiously do otherwise; but i have asked that she try you in the hope that you have decided to remedy these faults. very truly yours, f. b. scott. (mrs. harrison scott) harbor view, l. i., august , . mrs. hubert forbes, bayshore, l. i. my dear mrs. forbes: i have your letter of august twenty-fifth concerning my former cook, margaret dickson. she is an extremely good cook. she was with me for two years, and i can vouch for her honesty, but she is not to be depended on--for instance, to return promptly after her days off or to do any work during her frequent quarrels with the butler. but she seems anxious to improve, and if you would care to give her a trial, i think she might be satisfactory in new surroundings. i hope this reply will answer your questions. very truly yours, flora b. scott. _letter to a former servant_ dear delia, if you will not be too busy next week, will you come out and take care of the children for three or four days? mr. stone and i expect to be away. i am sure your husband can spare you. you will be surprised at the way jack is growing. he often speaks of you. let me know immediately. cordially yours, b. l. stone. (note the signature--the use of initials instead of writing the full name.) _inquiry concerning house for rental_ cottage road, somerville, mass., april , . schuyler realty company, fulton street, brooklyn, n. y. gentlemen: will you be good enough to send me the following information concerning the house at bedford park which you have advertised for rental: location of the house with regard to subway and l station, and the nearest public school. general character of the immediate neighborhood. distance to the nearest methodist episcopal church. condition and kind of plumbing in each of the three bathrooms. make of furnace and the amount of coal necessary to heat the house. is the house completely screened? are there awnings? the floors--of what wood and in what condition are they? is the cellar dry? where is the laundry? when can the house be ready for occupancy? i should like to have the facts as soon as you can furnish them. very truly yours, george m. hall. _inquiry concerning house for purchase_ amsterdam avenue, philadelphia, pa., may , . wheaton manor development co., dobbs ferry, new york. gentlemen: will you let me know without delay, if possible, if you have any property in your immediate neighborhood fulfilling the following requirements: house--twelve rooms, four bathrooms, and sun porch. a modern house of stucco and half-timber construction preferred. ground--about five acres, part woodland, part cleared; lawn, vegetable, and flower garden. distance from railroad station--not more than fifteen minutes' ride. i do not want to pay more than $ , . i shall be here until the twentieth of the month. after that a reply will reach me at the hotel pennsylvania, new york. very truly yours, jerome hutchinson. _inquiry concerning a child at school_: riverside drive, new york, n. y., february , . my dear professor ritchie, my son john's report for the term just closed is far from satisfactory. while i do not expect perfection from him, i think--in fact, i know--he is capable of better work than is shown by his present rating. i observe that he did not pass in mathematics, a subject in which he was always first in the elementary school. my first thought was that possibly he was not physically well, but his activity in athletics would seem to refute this. this leads me to another thought--perhaps he is giving too much time and interest to athletics. what is your opinion and what course would you recommend? would it be possible by coaching to have him make up the required averages? as i am leaving new york in two weeks for an extended trip, i would like to take some steps toward improving his scholarship status. will you let me hear from you as soon as possible? very truly yours, john crandall. _letter ordering easter gifts from a magazine shopping service_ quogue, long island, march , . standard shopping service, west th street, new york, n. y. gentlemen: i enclose my check for $ . for which please send by express the following articles to miss dorothea allen sunrise lodge highland, pa. two sterling silver candlesticks in colonial pattern at $ . each, on page , march issue. or if you cannot secure them, will you purchase as second choice two jars in kashan ware, with blue as the predominating color? very truly yours, laura waite. (mrs. herbert waite) chapter vii the business letter a reporter was sent out on a big story--one of the biggest that had broken in many a day. he came back into the office about eight o'clock all afire with his story. he was going to make a reputation on the writing of it. he wanted to start off with a smashing first paragraph--the kind of lead that could not help being read. he knew just what he was going to say; the first half-dozen lines fairly wrote themselves on the typewriter. then he read them over. they did not seem quite so clever and compelling as he had thought. he pulled the sheet out and started another. by half-past ten he was in the midst of a sea of copy paper--but he had not yet attained a first paragraph. the city editor--one of the famous old _sun_ school--grew anxious. the paper could not wait until inspiration had matured. he walked quietly over to the young man and touching him on the shoulder he said: "just one little word after another, son." and that is a good thought to carry into the composition of a business or any other kind of letter. the letter is written to convey some sort of idea. it will not perfectly convey the idea. words have their limitations. it will not invariably produce upon the reader the effect that the writer desires. you may have heard of "irresistible" letters--sales letters that would sell electric fans to esquimaux or ice skates to hawaiians, collection letters that make the thickest skinned debtor remit by return mail, and other kinds of resultful, masterful letters that pierce to the very soul. there may be such letters. i doubt it. and certainly it is not worth while trying to concoct them. they are the outpourings of genius. the average letter writer, trying to be a genius, deludes only himself--he just becomes queer, he takes to unusual words, constructions, and arrangements. he puts style before thought--he thinks that the way he writes is more important than what he writes. the writer of the business letter does well to avoid "cleverness"--to avoid it as a frightful and devastating disease. the purpose of a business letter is to convey a thought that will lead to some kind of action--immediately or remotely. therefore there are only two rules of importance in the composition of the business letter. the first is: know what you want to say. the second is: say it. and the saying is not a complicated affair--it is a matter of "one little word after another." business letters may be divided into two general classes: ( ) where it is assumed that the recipient will want to read the letter, ( ) where it is assumed that the recipient will not want to read the letter. the first class comprises the ordinary run of business correspondence. if i write to john smith asking him for the price of a certain kind of chair, smith can assume in his reply that i really want that information and hence he will give it to me courteously and concisely with whatever comment on the side may seem necessary, as, for instance, the fact that this particular type of chair is not one that smith would care to recommend and that style x, costing $ . , would be better. the ordinary business letter is either too wordy or too curt; it either loses the subject in a mass of words or loses the reader by offensive abruptness. some letters gush upon the most ordinary of subjects; they are interspersed with friendly ejaculations such as "now, my dear mr. jones," and give the impression that if one ever got face to face with the writer he would effervesce all over one's necktie. many a man takes a page to say what ought to be said in four lines. on the other hand, there are letter writers so uncouth in the handling of words that they seem rude when really they only want to be brief. the only cure for a writer of this sort is for him to spend some months with any good english composition book trying to learn the language. the second class of letters--those in which it is presumed that the recipient will not want to read--comprises all the circular letters. these are selling or announcement letters and it is hoped that they will play the part of a personal representative. the great bulk of these letters are sales letters. their characteristic is that the writer and the reader are unknown to each other. it is not quite accurate to say that the reader will never want to read the letters--no one knows how many of the millions of circular letters sent out are read. a farmer will read practically every letter that comes to him; many business men will throw every circular letter into the waste basket unread. it is well to assume in this kind of letter, however, that the recipient does not want to read it but that he will open and glance at it. it is up to you to make such a good letter that the first glance will cause him to read more. there is no way of catching the man who throws letters away unopened; any attempt to have the envelope tell what the letter should tell is apt to be unfortunate, because it will have no effect upon the inveterate tosser away and may deter even some of those who commonly do open circular mail. the best method is to make the letter look so much like a routine business letter that no one will dare to throw it away without investigation. the cost of a sales letter is not to be reckoned otherwise than by results. the merit of a sales letter is to be judged solely by the results. therefore it is not a question of what kind of letter one thinks ought to produce results. the single question is what kind of letter does produce results. there is only one way to ascertain results, and that is by test. no considerable expenditure in direct mail solicitation and no form letter should be extensively used without an elaborate series of tests. otherwise the money may be thrown away. the extent of the tests will depend upon the contemplated expenditure. every concern that sends out many sales letters keeps a careful record of results. these records show the letter itself, the kind of envelope, the typing, the signature, and the kind of list to which it has been sent. thus a considerable fund of information is obtained for future use. this information, however, has to be very carefully handled because it may easily become misinformation, for we cannot forget the appeal of the product itself. no one as yet has ever been able to gauge in advance the appeal of a product. some apparently very bad letters have sold very good products. some apparently very good letters have quite failed to sell what turned out to be bad products. therefore, the information that is obtained in the circularizing and sale of one product has to be taken warily when applied to another product. it should be taken only for what it is worth, and that is as a general guide. [illustration: specimens of business letterheads] several concerns with a mind for statistical information have in the past so carefully compiled the effectiveness of their letters, but without regard to the product, that they have discovered an inordinately large number of things that cannot be done and extremely few things that can be done. this is the danger of placing too much faith in previous experience. one of these companies entirely discarded its records of what could not be done and started afresh. they found that several of the methods which they had previously used and discarded happened to do well under changed conditions and with different products. if any large expenditure be contemplated then many tests should be made. the kind of envelope, the manner of addressing, the one cent as opposed to the two-cent stamp, the kind of letterhead, the comparative merits of printing, multigraphing, or electric typewriting, the length and composition of the letter, the effect of the return card, the effect of enclosing a stamped return card or a stamped return envelope, the method of signing, and so on, through each detail, must be tried out. no test is ever conclusive, but very little information of value is to be obtained by circularizing less than five hundred names. these names may be taken sectionally or at random. the sectional method is somewhat better, for then comparison of results in several sections may be made, and it may turn out that it would be well to phrase differently letters for different sections. the returns on the letters are not of themselves conclusive. if one section responds and another does not, it is well to look into business conditions in the sections. it may be that in one section the people are working and that in another there is considerable unemployment. the main point about all of these statistics is to be sure that what one terms results are results, bearing in mind that it is the test and not what one thinks about a letter that counts. it is distinctly harmful for any one to say that a letter should be long or short. it all depends on who is going to get the letter. the tendency in recent years has been toward the very long sales letter. this is because in a large number of cases the long letter has been singularly effective. however, the long letter can be overdone. it is the test that counts. the exact purpose for which a letter is written is to be stated clearly before entering upon the composition. very few letters will sell articles costing as much as fifty dollars unless perhaps the payments are on the installment plan. many men of experience put the limit as low as five dollars. others put it as high as one hundred dollars. it is safe to say that the effectiveness of a letter which is designed to achieve a sale decreases as the price of that which is offered for sale increases. therefore, most of the letters written concerning more expensive articles are not intended to effect sales. they are designed to bring responses that will furnish leads for salesmen. other letters are more in the nature of announcements, by which it is hoped prospects may be brought into a store. where the article offered for sale is quite high in price, the letters sometimes may be very expensively prepared. on one occasion the late john h. patterson, discovering that his salesmen could not get to the heads of several department stores, ordered some very fine leather portfolios. on each portfolio he had stamped the name of the man who was to receive it. they were gifts such as any one would welcome and which no one could possibly ignore. inside each portfolio were contained a letter and a number of photographs showing exactly what he desired to have the agents demonstrate. each gift cost about fifty dollars. he sent the portfolios with his compliments. the secretaries of the men that he wanted to interest could not possibly toss them away. they simply had to give them to their principals. my impression is that the entire expenditure ran to several thousand dollars, but as a result some two hundred thousand dollars in sales were effected, for in practically every case the photographs awakened an interest that led to an appointment with the salesman. the following letters are intended to be suggestive. they cannot honestly be put forward as being more than that. they are all letters that have gained results under certain circumstances. that they will gain results under new and different circumstances is a matter on which no one can speak with any assurance. every sales letter is a matter of cut and try. some of these letters may produce results exactly as they stand. others may better be used in combination. [illustration: arrangement of a business letter (block form)] [illustration: arrangement of a business letter (indented form)] whether the letter should have a return card or envelope depends upon circumstances, as also does the inclusion of an illustrated folder. the return card is more valuable with a letter that goes to a home than with a letter that goes to an office. very few men with stenographers will bother with return cards--their stenographers or secretaries will send a note. on the other hand, letter-writing facilities are not so easily available in the usual home and the card is likely to be used. the putting in of a folder sometimes takes away from the force of the letter. it is often better to reserve the folder for a second letter or for answering an inquiry. for once the prospect has written in for more information the whole purpose of the letter changes. the interest can be presumed, and the object of the letter is to give the greatest possible amount of clear information to the end of causing action. saying too much in the first letter may give the reader an opportunity to reach a conclusion, when the purpose of the first letter is primarily to get a name--a prospective purchaser. many a salesman kills a sale by talking too much; so does many a sales letter. sales and announcement letters to charge customers selling and announcement letters are sent out before the public advertising. (they can also be used as general announcements by eliminating the portions referring particularly to the charge accounts.) _announcing a sale_ brice & haskell south michigan avenue chicago july , . dear madam: as one of our regular patrons, we are telling you in advance of a coming big sale--the august furniture sale, which will begin monday, august th. we should like our charge customers to have first choice of the interesting values before they are announced to the public. therefore we shall have three courtesy days, thursday, friday, and saturday of this week, when you may come in and make your selections at the sale prices. our guide in choosing furniture is our clientèle, so we feel sure you will find the type of furniture here that pleases you--and in greater variety than usual because we complete our collection for this event. prices this year are very attractive. they have been reduced far lower than you will anticipate. we should like you to have the advantage in these values soon, and hope you will come in one of the three courtesy days. very truly yours, brice & haskell. following are letters of slightly different type: s. black company washington street boston, mass. april , . mrs. arthur moore, hillside avenue, boston, mass. dear madam: our spring sale of misses' suits, coats, dresses, and hats will begin monday, april th, continuing throughout the week. this sale presents an unusual opportunity to secure seasonable apparel at decided price concessions. misses' suits: smartly tailored suits of english navy serge, navy gabardine, tan covert cloth, imported mixtures, homespuns, and light-weight knit cloths--adapted for town or country usage. a splendid selection of all sizes from to years. misses' coats: coats for motor, country club, or town wear, in soft velours, burella cloth, and imported coatings. misses' dresses: dresses of imported serges and gabardines, for street wear, and a number of exclusive knit cloth models in attractive colorings for sports wear--sizes to years. misses' hats: the balance of our stock of trimmed hats at one half their former prices. on account of the greatly reduced prices, none of these goods will be sent on approval, nor can they be returned for credit. very truly yours, s. black company. note: to our charge customers is extended the privilege of making their selections on friday and saturday, april th and th. swanson sons & company superior avenue cleveland, ohio january , . dear madam: we enclose advance announcements of our private sales of boys' heatherweave clothes and ironhide shoes, and we believe you will find the economies presented a great relief after your large christmas outlays. of course, such reductions mean that the assortments will quickly be depleted, and we urge you to act promptly in order to secure the full benefit of the available selections. to enable you to do this we are telling you before the public announcement of these sales. yours very truly, swanson sons & company. this letter encloses a proof of a newspaper advertisement. callender & crump euclid avenue cleveland, o. september , . dear madam: in appreciation of your patronage we wish to extend to you a personal invitation to attend a private sale of women's tailor-made fall suits (sizes to ) in some especially well-chosen models. these suits will be priced at the very low figure of $ . our regular patrons may have first selection before the sale is open to the public, and may thus avoid the discomforts of a public sale. we have arranged to show these suits privately on friday, october , in the fitting department on the sixth floor. if you care to avail yourself of this special opportunity, please bring this letter with you and present it at the fitting department. very truly yours, callender & crump. (note:--an excellent idea when a special offering of foreign goods is made is to have the letters mailed from paris or london. the foreign stamp will usually attract attention.) callender & crump euclid avenue cleveland, o. paris, france, september , . dear madam: we wish to let you know in advance that our annual sale of real french kid gloves, at cents a pair, takes place on tuesday, october , . to insure a choice selection we suggest that you make your purchases early on that day. very truly yours, callender & crump. this is an excellent, matter-of-fact letter that sets out values: le fevre brothers washington blvd detroit, mich. may , . mrs. john williams, concourse ave., detroit, mich. madam: on monday and tuesday, may th and th, we shall hold our annual spring clearance sale of seasonable apparel for boys, girls, and young ladies, offering exceptional values, and an unusual opportunity to secure regular le fevre productions at lower prices than we have been able to offer for several years. this sale will include other items which are not enumerated in this announcement. boys' wool norfolk suits: sizes to years. formerly up to $ . _sale price_ $ . , $ . , and $ . boys' overcoats: sizes to years. formerly up to $ . _sale price_ $ . and $ . girls' coats and capes: sizes to years. formerly up to $ . _sale price_ $ . and $ . girls' wool dresses: sizes to years. formerly up to $ . _sale price_ $ . and $ . young ladies' suits: sizes to years. formerly up to $ . _sale price_ $ . and $ . young ladies' dresses: sizes to years. formerly up to $ . _sale price_ $ . and $ . young ladies' coats and capes: sizes to years. formerly up to $ . _sale price_ $ . and $ . girls' and young ladies' trimmed and tailored hats: formerly up to $ . _sale price_ $ . and $ . sale goods will not be sent on approval, exchanged, nor can they be returned for credit. yours very truly, le fevre brothers. our charge customers will have the privilege of making their purchases from this sale on friday and saturday, may th and th. _on opening a store_ this form for the opening of a new store in a town may be used with variations for a reopening after improvements. james bonner & co. wichita, kan. april , . mrs. henry jerome, water st., wichita, kan. dear madam: this is a sale to win friends for a new store. we want you to see our values. our store is but six weeks old. our stock is just the same age. everything that we have is fresh and new. we want you to compare our qualities and prices. we are out to prove to the women of wichita that we can give style and service at prices they will like. will you give us the chance to get acquainted? yours very truly, james bonner & co., (handwritten) _l. jones_, manager. _selling home-made articles_ waverly place, bridgetown, n. j., april , . dear madam: have you ever counted the cost of making your pickles, jams, and jellies at home? if you have, and are satisfied that yours is the cheapest way, considering time, labor, and the use of the best materials, then my product will not appeal to you. but before you decide, may i ask you to make a comparison? i make at home in large quantities and according to the best recipes gathered over years of experience, all kinds of pickles and relishes--sweet, sour, dill, chow-chow, piccalilli. my special jams are raspberry, strawberry, plum, peach, and quince. crabapple is my best liked jelly, and red currant a close second. a very special conserve is a grape and walnut, for which i have a large call, for teas. the peaches i put up in pint and quart jars. i use only the very best vinegar and spices. my products are made only to order and at the lowest possible cost. to do this i must get my orders some time in advance so that i may take advantage of attractive prices on fruits and other ingredients. i append a list of prices which i charged last year. this year they will be no higher and in all probability less. may i get a small trial order from you? very truly yours, martha walker. (mrs. william walker) _a letter to recently married people in moderate circumstances_ j. l. bascom company main street richmond, va. may , . dear madam: this store is for sensible, saving people who want to make every dollar buy its utmost. but sometimes being sensible and saving seems to mean just being commonplace and dowdy. ours is not that sort of a store. we believe that useful articles ought also to be good looking, and our buying has been so skillful that we believe we are safe in saying that our goods are not only absolutely dependable but also will compare in appearance with any goods anywhere, regardless of price. we think that this statement will mean something to you, for in furnishing a home, although appearance may not be everything, it is certainly a good deal. between two articles of the same durability the better-looking one is the better. it is our aim not merely to make home furnishing easy but to make a beautiful home at the price of an ugly one. our experience has been that it does not pay to put into a household any article which in a few years you will get so tired of looking at that you will want to smash it with a hatchet. we have the values and also we have terms that are as good as the values. we enclose a little booklet that will give you a hint of what you can find here. we cannot give you more than a hint. the best way is to come to the store. tell us your problems, and let us aid you with our experience. very truly yours, j. l. bascom company. _introducing the mail order department:_ l. girard & co. st. louis, mo. april , . mrs. benjamin brown, shadyside vine avenue, st. louis, mo. dear madam: this spring brings to us many new ideas in merchandise that our buyers have picked up in their travels. in many ways we have now the most interesting stock we have ever been able to show. it is indeed so large and varied that we shall hardly be able to give you more than a suggestion of it in our public advertising. we feel sure that we have something which you have been looking for among the splendid values in both personal and household necessities. you will find that through our individual shopping service purchasing by mail is made most convenient and entirely personal. may we look forward to having again the pleasure of serving you? very truly yours, l. girard & co. _announcement of overcoats_ the barbour clothing co. wabash avenue chicago october , . mr. charles reid, winnetka, ill. my dear sir: in a couple of weeks you are going to think a good deal about your overcoat. why not start thinking now? we are offering this year the most complete line of overcoats that we have ever been able to buy. we have found that we could buy absolutely first-class coats at absolutely fair prices. we are selling them on the basis on which we bought them, and we bought a lot because we think the values will sell them. the prices are surprisingly low. they range from $ to $ . at the lowest price we are selling a coat which, if you saw it on the back of a friend, you would think cost at least $ . the highest priced coat is as good as money can buy. if you expected to spend $ for a coat, you may find that you can get what you want for $ or $ , or you may find that you will want an even better coat than you had expected to buy. we think that it would be worth your while to look at this stock. very truly yours, the barbour clothing co. _selling a farm product (can be used for vegetables, eggs, hams, and bacon or any farm product)_ corn center new jersey june , . dear madam: do you like perfectly fresh vegetables--right off the farm? what kind of vegetables are you getting? do you know how long ago they were picked? perhaps you think that you cannot have absolutely fresh vegetables for your table or that it really makes no difference? did you ever taste golden bantam corn the same day or the day after it was picked? do you know golden bantam or is corn just corn? do you think that string beans are just string beans? and do you know about stringless string beans? i grow only the thoroughbred varieties. i pick them when they are tender--just right for the palate. and i send them to you the same day that they are picked. i arrange hampers according to the size of the family. the prices, quantities, and selections are on the enclosed card. i will deliver at your door (or send by parcel post) every day, every second day, or as often as you like. you can have the best that is grown in its best season and as fresh as though you were living on a farm. try a hamper and know what vegetables are! very truly yours, henry raynor. _storage service_ howard moth proof bag co. winsted, conn. may , . dear madam: have you ever taken your best coat to an "invisible mender" and paid him ten dollars to have him mend two moth holes? have you ever gone to your trunk to take out your furs and found that the moths had got into them? sometimes they are so badly eaten that they are utterly hopeless and must be thrown away. all this trouble, disappointment, and expense can be avoided if you will only take the precaution this spring to put away your clothing and furs in the howard moth proof garment bags. strongly constructed of a heavy and durable cedar paper, and made absolutely moth-proof by our patented closing device, the howard bag provides absolute protection against moths. as the howard bag comes in several sizes, from the suit size, ranging through the overcoat, ulster, and automobile sizes, and as each bag has room for several garments, you can surely have protection for all your clothing at small cost. the hook by which the bag is hung up is securely stapled in place by brass rivets. this bag is so strong and so well designed for service that it will with care last for several years. very truly yours, the howard moth-proof bag co. _a type of christmas sales letter_ the pink shop main street grand rapids, mich. november , . dear madam: this is your opportunity to get a lot of fine christmas stockings at very low cost--if you order at once. the "camille" is made of beautiful thread silk richly hand embroidered. it comes in black or white, all silk. the "diana" is a silk stocking with lisle top and soles. it is a fine wearing stocking and comes in all street shades. the "juliet" is especially attractive as a gift for a girl friend. these stockings are clocked and have all silk feet and lisle tops. the colors are black, beige, and taupe. they are especially good looking worn with saddle pumps. the "evening mist" is a fascinating stocking for evening wear. it is sheer, almost cobwebby, and will enhance any evening gown. the colors are gold, silver, light blue, corn, pale green, black, and white. it is splendid for a gift stocking. the "priscilla" is an excellent stocking for everyday hard wear. it is of heavy lisle, full fashioned and fast color--black or tan. send your order off now. you will have the advantage of an early selection. attractive prices are quoted in the circular enclosed. the big holiday rush will soon be on. make up your order for stockings for christmas giving, attach remittance for amount and mail to-day. your order will be filled promptly and if everything does not fully satisfy you, you may return it and get your money back. yours very truly, the pink shop. _an automobile announcement_ memphis auto supply co. maple avenue memphis, tenn. march , . dear sir: just a few weeks and spring will be here. that means pleasure motoring. when you are getting ready for this new season, you may find that you will need certain things for your car--perhaps a new tire, or a pair of pliers, or an inner tube. but whatever it is, remember that our new stock of accessories is here and we believe that we can supply you with anything you will need. in inviting you to give us part of your trade, we give you this assurance: if any article you buy from us is not entirely right, we will return your money. we hope to see you soon. yours very truly, memphis auto supply co. _changing from a credit to a cash plan (should be in the nature of a personal letter)_ pelletier & co. casco street portland, me. february , . mrs. john troy, ocean ave., portland, me. dear madam: when this store was opened ten years ago, we believed that our service would be the most effective if we operated on a credit basis. therefore we solicited charge accounts, of course taking extreme care that only people of known integrity and substance should be on our books. we have had the privilege of serving you through such an account. there are two fundamental methods of conducting a retail business. the one is on the cash and the other is on the credit plan. in the cash plan all goods are either paid for at the time of purchase or at the time of delivery. in the credit plan, those who have not credit or do not care to use credit pay cash; those who have credit rating charge their purchases and bills are rendered monthly. credit was not extended by the store as a favor; it formed part of a way of doing business. the favor is on the part of the customer. the charge system has many advantages, principally in the way of permitting the store to know its customers better than it could otherwise. the disadvantage of the credit basis is the expense of bookkeeping which, of course, has to be added into the price of the goods sold. our losses through unpaid bills have been negligible. our customers are honest. but it has seemed unfair that the customer who pays cash should have to bear the cost of the credit accounts. as our business has worked out more than fifty per cent. of our whole trade is on the cash basis. after careful consideration we have finally decided to go entirely upon a cash footing in order that we may further reduce our costs of doing business and hence our prices to you. we think that in such fashion we can better serve you. therefore, on july st, which marks the end of our fiscal year, we shall go upon an exclusively cash basis and no longer maintain charge accounts. we think that you will agree when you see the savings reflected in lower prices for the highest grade of goods that the change in policy is a wise one and that you will continue to favor us with your patronage. very truly yours, pelletier & co., (handwritten) _c. brown_, credit manager. keeping the customer _thanking a new customer_ larue brothers saint louis, mo. october , . mrs. lee white, main street, st. louis, mo. dear madam: the purchase which you made yesterday is the first that we have had the pleasure of recording for your account and we want to take this opportunity to thank you for the confidence that you repose in us and to hope that it will be the beginning of a long and happy relation. we shall, from time to time, send you bulletins of our special offerings and we believe that you will be interested in them. very truly yours, (handwritten) _j. m. briggs_, credit manager, larue brothers. _where a charge account has been inactive_ s. black company washington street boston, mass. february , . mr. tudor sweet, commonwealth ave., boston, mass. dear sir: we have just been looking over our books and are sorry to learn that you have not given us your patronage for some time past. we feel that something may have gone wrong to have caused you to discontinue trading at our store. if you are not fully satisfied with anything you bought from us, remember that we are always eager and ready to adjust the matter to your satisfaction. we shall certainly appreciate it if you will write to us and tell us frankly just what the trouble has been. will you use the inclosed envelope to let us know? yours truly, s. black company, (handwritten) _george sims_, credit manager. a. b. sweetser & co. main street columbus, o. june , . mrs. arthur thomas, spruce avenue, columbus, o. dear madam: does our store please you? sometime ago it probably did and you had an account with us, but we find with regret that you have not used it lately. if we disappointed you, or if something went wrong and possibly your complaint was not properly attended to, we are extremely anxious to know about it. perhaps there was some lack of courtesy, some annoying error in your bill which we were exasperatingly obtuse in rectifying? were we stupid in filling some order or did we delay in delivery? perhaps we did not have just what you were looking for, or our prices seemed higher than elsewhere. whatever the difficulty, we do want you to know that we try to stand for good service--to supply promptly what you want at the price you want to pay, and always to conduct our business with an unfailing courtesy which will make your shopping a pleasure. being a woman i may understand your point of view a little better. will you be quite frank and tell me why you do not buy from sweetser's now? either write or call me on the telephone; or, better still, if you are in our neighborhood, can you come in to see me? the information booth is at the door and i can be found in a minute. it might help to talk things over. sincerely yours, (handwritten) _mrs. margaret b. williams_, courtesy manager, a. b. sweetser & co. meyer, haskell & co. elm street bloomfield, ill. march , . mrs. bruce wells, dwight ave., bloomfield, ill. dear madam: we very much regret that you do not use more often your charge account at our store, and we hope it is not due to any lack on our part of prompt and intelligent service. we know that with our large and well-assorted stocks of merchandise and competent organization we ought to be able to supply your needs to your complete satisfaction. one of five stores, we have great opportunities for advantageous buying and we can continually undersell others. in this connection permit us to call your attention to our newly installed telephone order department. this department is in charge of competent house shoppers, whose duty it is to satisfy your every want, thus enabling our charge patrons to shop by telephone with perfect certainty. we feel that these advantages may appeal to you and result in our receiving your orders more often. very truly yours, (handwritten) _t. hunter_, credit manager, meyer, haskell & co. selling real estate there are two phases in the writing of letters concerning the sale of real estate. the first phase has to do with the presentation of the proposal in order to arouse sufficient interest in the mind of the prospect to cause him to inspect the property. comparatively little real estate is sold without personal inspection. the exceptions are offerings of low-priced building sites in distant sections of the country. these are sold sight unseen--else, as a rule, they would never be sold at all. but such real estate selling is more apt to be in the class with fake mining stock than with legitimate buying and selling, and therefore has no place here. the second phase of letters on real estate comprehends the closing of the sale. for instance, let us say that john hope has gone so far as to look at a property. he apparently wants to buy the property or is at least interested, but the price and conditions of sale do not exactly suit him. he is so situated that he does not want to talk personally with an agent, or perhaps lives too far away. at any rate, the sale has to be closed by mail. the fact which most concerns the buyer of real estate, provided he is otherwise satisfied with a property, is the title. the title is the legal term by which is denoted the exact character of the ownership. quite frequently an owner may believe that he has a clear title when, as a matter of fact, his title is derived through some testamentary instrument which gives him a holding only for life, or perhaps trusts have been set up in the will which are a charge upon the property, although all of the beneficiaries of the trust have been long since dead. there are many hundreds of possible legal complications affecting the validity of the title and it is usual to-day to have titles insured and, in agreeing to buy, to specify that the "title must be marketable and insurable by a reputable title insurance company." the word "marketable" as here used means a title which is unquestionable. the prospective buyer must also be careful to specify that the title shall be "free and clear" and that all taxes shall be apportioned to the day of settlement. otherwise the buyer would have to take title subject to a lien of any judgments or other liens of record and also subject to unpaid taxes. a real estate transaction may be very complicated indeed, and it is wise for a buyer to take precautions to the end of seeing that he purchases a piece of real property rather than a right to a lawsuit. most letters offering real estate for sale are written in response to inquiries generated by an advertisement. the letter offering the property is designed to bring forth a visit from the inquirer. therefore only the information which seems best adapted to bring about that visit should go into the letter. the temptation is to tell too much, and the danger of telling too much is that one may inadvertently force a negative conclusion. it is better to keep down to the bare, although complete, description rather than to attempt any word painting. the description is best supplemented by one or several photographs. the important points to be summarized are the situation of the house, the architectural style, the material of which it is constructed, the number of rooms, and the size of the lot, with of course a description of any stable, garage, or other substantial out-buildings. these are the elementary points of the description. one may then summarize the number and size of the rooms, including the bathrooms, laundry, and kitchen, the closet spaces, fireplaces, the lighting, the roofing, the floors, the porches, and the decorating. the most effective letter is always the one that catalogues the features rather than describes them. _an agent asking for a list of property_ jones realty co. harrisburg, pa. april , . mr. james renwick, pelham road, westville, pa. my dear sir: i am constantly having inquiries from people who want to buy property in your immediate vicinity, and i am writing to learn whether you would give me the opportunity to dispose of your property for you, if i can obtain an entirely satisfactory price. if you will name the price and the terms at which you would sell, i should be glad to put the property on my list and i believe that i can make a sale. it would be helpful if i had a good description of the property and also one or two good photographs. of course if you list the property with me that will not bar you from listing it with any other broker unless you might care to put it exclusively in my hands for disposal. my commission is - / %, the same as charged by other brokers in this vicinity, and i know from experience that i can give you satisfactory service. very truly yours, henry jones. _from an owner instructing an agent to list property_ pelham road, westville, pa., may , . mr. henry jones, jones realty co., harrisburg, pa. my dear sir: i have your letter of may rd and i am entirely willing that you should list my property for sale, although i do not want a "for sale" sign displayed nor do i want the property inspected while i am in it unless by a previously arranged appointment. i enclose a description and a photograph. i will take $ , for the place, of which $ , has to be paid in cash. i am willing to hold a second mortgage of $ , and there is $ , already ready against the place, which can remain. very truly yours, james renwick. _selling a property by mail_ lawrence street, greenville, n. y., april , . mr. george a. allen, fourth avenue, hillside, n. y. my dear sir: i have your letter of april th asking for further particulars on the property which i advertised for sale in last sunday's _republic_. i think that by inspecting this property you can gain a much clearer idea of its desirability than i can possibly convey to you in a letter. if you will telephone to me, i will arrange any appointment that suits your convenience. the house is ten years old--that is, it was built when materials and workmanship were first-class. it has been kept up by the owner, has never been rented, and is to-day a more valuable house than when it was originally constructed. it is three stories in height, contains fifteen rooms, four bathrooms, breakfast porch, sun porch, children's breakfast porch, a laundry, butler's pantry, a storage pantry, and a refrigerator pantry. it stands on a plot of ground x feet, which has been laid out in lawn and gardens, and in fact there are several thousand dollars' worth of well-chosen and well-placed plants, including many evergreens and rhododendrons. the trim of the house, including the floors, is hard wood throughout, and the decorations are such that nothing whatsoever would have to be done before occupancy. i enclose two photographs. the owner's price is $ , , and i know that he would be willing to arrange terms. very truly yours, r. a. smith. (note--essentially the same letter could be written offering the house for rental, furnished or unfurnished, as the case might be.) main street, albany, n. y., october , . mr. henry grimes, catskill, n. y. dear sir: the business property that i offered for sale in yesterday's _republic_ and concerning which i have a letter from you this morning is particularly well suited for a specialty shop or any kind of a store that would be benefited by the passing of large numbers of people before its show windows. it is located at the corner of third and main streets with a frontage of thirty feet on main street and runs back seventy feet on third street. there is one large show window on main street and two on third street. it is a three-story brick structure, solidly built, and the upper floors, if they could not be used for your own purposes, will as they stand bring a rental of $ a month each, and with a few changes could probably be leased at a higher amount. they are at present leased at the above figures, but the leases will expire on january st. both tenants are willing to renew. by actual count this property is on the third busiest corner in town. if you are interested, i should like to discuss the price and terms with you. very truly yours, henry eltinge. _offering a farm for sale_ goschen, ohio, r. f. d. , may , . mr. harry more, bridgeton, ohio. dear sir: i am glad to get your letter inquiring about my farm. i am acting as my own agent because i think it is a farm that will sell itself on inspection and i would rather split the commission with the buyer than with a middle-man. the farmhouse, barns, and dairy are good, substantial frame buildings, and they have been well painted every second season. there is nothing to be done to them. the house has six rooms and a large, dry cellar. the water is soft and there is plenty of it. the barn is by ; the poultry house is a big one that i built myself. the sheds are all in first-class condition. this farm contains acres, two miles from goschen, ohio, and there is a state road leading into town and to the railroad. we have rural delivery and telephone. the land is high and in first-class cultivation. the orchard has been kept up and there are well-established strawberry and asparagus beds. you will not find a better farm of its kind than this one. i have made a living off it for twelve years and anybody else can, but the only way for you really to find out what the place amounts to is to come down yourself and look it over. if you will let me know when you expect to come i will meet you at the station in my automobile. the price is ten thousand dollars. there is a mortgage of $ , that can remain, and, other things being satisfactory, we can arrange the down payment and the terms for the balance. very truly yours, john hope. _accepting an offer_ chestnut street, philadelphia, pa., dec. , . mr. joseph barlow, haines crossing, delaware. dear sir: i have your letter of december th offering to sell to me the property that we have been discussing for $ , of which $ , is to be in cash, $ , to remain on three-year mortgage at six per cent., and the remaining $ , to be cared for by the present mortgage in that amount and which i understand has four years yet to run. i accept your offer as stated by you, with the provision of course that i shall receive a clear and marketable title, insurable by a real estate title company, and that all taxes shall be adjusted as of the day of settlement, which settlement is to take place three months from to-day. if you will have a contract of sale drawn, i shall execute it and at the same time hand you my check for five hundred dollars as the consideration for the contract of purchase. this letter is written in the assumption that the dimensions of the property are such as have been represented to me. i am very truly yours, martin fields. (note--the above letter replying to an offer to sell would of itself close the contract and the formal contract of sale is unnecessary. a contract is, however, advisable because it includes all the terms within a single sheet of paper and therefore makes for security.) _letter inquiring as to what may be had_ gramercy park, february , . home development co., hastings, n. y. dear sir: i am writing to learn what property you have listed in your vicinity that would seem to meet my particular requirements. i want a house of not less than ten rooms, with some ground around it and not more than fifteen minutes from the railroad station. the house must contain at least two bathrooms, have a good heating plant, and either be in first-class condition or offered at a price that would permit me to put it in first-class condition without running into a great deal of money. i am willing to pay between ten and fifteen thousand dollars. will you send me a list of properties that you can suggest as possibly being suitable? very truly yours, julian henderson. _renting apartments_ young & reynolds green street brooklyn, n. y. may , . mr. robert pardee, prentiss place, brooklyn, n. y. dear sir: your name has been handed to me as one who might be interested in leasing one of the extremely attractive apartments in the iroquois at number east third street, which will be ready for occupancy on september th. i enclose a descriptive folder which will give you an idea of the grounds that we have for basing our claim that this is the most convenient apartment house that has ever been erected. the apartments vary in size, as you will see on the plan, and for long leases we can arrange any combination of rooms that may be desired. these features are common to all of the apartments. every bedroom has a private bathroom. every living and dining room contains an open fireplace, and every apartment, no matter what its size, is connected with a central kitchen so that service may be had equivalent to that of any hotel and at any hour from seven in the morning until midnight. there is a complete hotel service, all of which is entirely optional with the tenant. we invite your inspection. a number of the apartments have already been leased, but many desirable ones still remain and an early selection will permit of decoration according to your own wishes in ample time for the opening of the building. the renting office is on the premises. very truly yours, young & reynolds. bank letters the qualities which make a bank popular in a community are, first, safety; second, intelligence; and third, courtesy. one bank has potentially nothing more to offer than has another bank, excepting that of course a very large bank has a greater capacity for making loans than has a small bank. the amount which by law a bank may lend is definitely fixed by the resources of the bank. however, this is not a question of particular concern here, for very large and important accounts are never gained through letter writing. the field that can be reached through letters comprises the substantial householder, the moderate-sized man in business, and the savings depositor. a bank has no bargains to offer. what a man or a woman principally asks about a bank is: "will my money be safe? will my affairs be well looked after? shall i be treated courteously when i go into the bank?" the answers to these questions should be found in the conduct of the bank itself. a bank is not a frivolous institution. therefore its stationery and the manner of its correspondence should be eminently dignified. it must not draw comparisons between the service it offers and the service any other bank offers. it must not make flamboyant statements. neither may it use slang, for slang connotes in the minds of many a certain carelessness that does not make for confidence. above all, a bank cannot afford to be entertaining or funny in its soliciting letters. the best bank letter is usually a short one, and it has been found effective to enclose a well-designed, well-printed card or folder setting out some of the services of the bank, its resources, and its officers. bank solicitation is very different from any other kind of solicitation. _soliciting savings accounts_ guardian trust co. bayville, n. j. january , . mr. george dwight, bayville, n. j. dear sir: some time ago we delivered to you a little home safe for savings, and we are writing to learn how you are making out with it. have you saved as much as you had expected? are you waiting to get a certain sum before bringing it in to be credited in your passbook? we are often asked if it is necessary to fill a home safe before bringing it in to have the contents deposited, and we always recommend that the bank be brought in at regular intervals, regardless of the amount saved, for you know the money begins to earn interest only when it is deposited with us. we give to small deposits the same careful attention we give to large deposits, so we suggest that you bring in and deposit whatever you have saved. that will make a start, and once started it is truly surprising how quickly a bank account rolls up. i hope that we may have the benefit of your patronage. very truly yours, the guardian trust company, (handwritten) _j. d. wallace_, secretary. _where a savings account is inactive_ guardian trust co. bayville, n. j. august , . mr. george dwight, bayville, n. j. dear sir: a little home bank may be made a power for good. it can accomplish nothing by itself, standing unused in an out-of-the-way place. it can only be an assistant to the saver. it can assist your boy and girl to great things. it can assist you in daily economies upon which big results are often built. it cannot furnish the initiative, but it can be a constant reminder and an ever-ready recipient. why not _use_ the little bank we delivered to you when you opened your savings account with us to teach the children to save, or to collect together small amounts for yourself. why not? very truly yours, (handwritten) _j. d. wallace_, secretary. _checking accounts_ _a letter soliciting a home account:_ guardian trust co. poughkeepsie, n. y. october , . mrs. hester wickes, market street, poughkeepsie, n. y. dear madam: do you ever have arguments over bills that you have paid in cash? do you always remember to get a receipt? do you find it a nuisance to carry cash? do you know that it is dangerous to keep much cash in the house? there can be no dispute about an account if you pay it with a bank check. your cancelled check is a perfect receipt. more than that, your bank book shows you when, how much, and to whom you have paid money. it is not only the easy way of paying bills but the safe way. you escape all the danger of carrying or having in the house more than mere pocket money. you will find by opening a checking account with us not only the advantages of paying by check but you will also discover many conveniences and services which we are able to offer to you without any charge whatsoever. i hope that you will call and let us explain our services. i enclose a folder telling you more about the bank than i have been able to tell in this letter. very truly yours, (handwritten) _j. d. wallace_, secretary. p.s. we have some very attractive styles in pocket check books that might interest you. _soliciting a commercial account_ the logansburg national bank logansburg, wis. april , . mr. fred haynes, nassau street, logansburg, wis. dear sir: every man in business is entitled to an amount of credit accommodation in accordance with his resources. it is one of the functions of this bank to help the business of the community by extending credit to those who make the business for the community. we are here to be of service and we should like to serve you. i enclose a folder giving the latest statement of the resources of the bank and something about the organization. will you not drop in some time and at least permit us to become acquainted? very truly yours, (handwritten) _r. t. newell_, president. _general services_ trust companies and national banks are very generally extending their services to cover the administration of decedents' estates, to advise upon investments, to care for property, and to offer expert tax services. in most cases, these services are set out in booklets and the letter either encloses the booklet or is phrased to have the recipient ask for the booklet. _letter proffering general services:_ griggs national bank fifth ave. new york november , . mr. henry larkin, cathedral parkway, new york. dear sir: we are writing to call your attention to several services which this bank has at your command and which we should be happy to have you avail yourself of: ( ) the bond department can give you expert and disinterested advice on investments and can in addition offer you a selection of well-chosen season bonds of whatever character a discussion of your affairs may disclose as being best suited to your needs. ( ) our safe deposit vaults will care for your securities and valuable papers at an annual cost which is almost nominal. ( ) we have arrangements by which we can issue letters of credit that will be honored anywhere in the world, foreign drafts, and travellers' checks. ( ) if you expect to be away through any considerable period or do not care to manage your own investments, our trust department will manage them for you and render periodical accounts at a very small cost. this service is especially valuable because so frequently a busy man fails to keep track of conversion privileges and rights to new issues and other matters incident to the owning of securities. ( ) we will advise you, if you like, on the disposition of your property by will, and we have experienced and expert facilities for the administration of trusts and estates. i hope that we may have the opportunity of demonstrating the value of some or all of these services to you; it would be a privilege to have you call and become acquainted with the officers in charge of these various departments. i am very truly yours, (handwritten) _lucius clark_, president. _a letter offering to act as executor_ griggs national bank fifth avenue new york june , . mr. lawrence loring, river avenue, yonkers, n. y. dear sir: may i call to your attention the question which every man of property must at some time gravely consider, and that is the disposition of his estate after death? i presume that as a prudent man you have duly executed a last will and testament, and i presume that it has been drawn with competent legal advice. but the execution of the will is only the beginning. after your death will come the administration of the estate, and it is being more and more recognized that it is not the part of wisdom to leave the administration of an estate in the hands of an individual. it used to be thought that an executor could be qualified by friendship or relationship, but unfortunately it has been proved through the sad experience of many estates that good intentions and integrity do not alone make a good executor. skill and experience also are needed. this company maintains a trust department, under the supervision of mr. thomas g. shelling, our trust officer, who has had many years of experience in the administration of estates. associated with him is a force of specialists who can care for any situation, usual or unusual, that may arise. the services of these men can be placed at your disposal. i can offer to you not only their expert services but also the continuity of a great institution. individuals die. institutions do not die. if you will turn over in your mind what may be the situation thirty years hence of any individual whom you might presently think of as an executor, i believe you will be impressed with the necessity for the continuity of service that can be offered only by a corporation. in many cases there are personal matters in the estate which a testator may believe can best be handled only by some of his friends. in such a case it is usual to join the individual executors with a corporate executor. it would be a privilege to be able to discuss these matters with you. very truly yours, (handwritten) _lucius clark_, president. p.s. wills are quite frequently lost or mislaid and sometimes months elapse before they are discovered. it is needless to point out the expense and inconvenience which may be entailed. we are happy to keep wills free of charge. _a letter offering tax services_ intervale national bank intervale, n. y. june , . mr. michael graham, intervale, n. y. dear sir: this bank is prepared to advise you in the preparation of your income and other tax returns. it is a service that is yours for the asking, and we hope that you will avail yourself of it. the department is open during banking hours, but if these hours are not convenient to you, special appointments can be made. very truly yours, (handwritten) _samuel drake_, president. _a letter giving the record of the bank_ intervale national bank intervale, n. y. july , . mr. donald west, intervale, n. y. dear sir: as a depositor you will be interested in the enclosed booklet which records what the officers and directors think is a notable showing for the bank during the past year. i hope that you will also find it inspiring and will pass it on to a friend who is not a depositor with us. may i thank you for your patronage during the past year, and believe me very truly yours, (handwritten) _samuel drake_, president. letters of order and acknowledgment _order where the price of articles is known_ north conway, n. h., august , . messrs. l. t. banning, broadway, new york, n. y. gentlemen: please send me, at your earliest convenience, by united states express, the following: doz. linen handkerchiefs, tape edge, regular size $ . pr. triumph garters, silk, black . white oxford tennis shirts, size - / @ $ . . pr. white lisle socks, size @ $. . _________ total $ . i am enclosing a money order for $ . . yours very truly, oscar trent. enclosure (money order) _order where the price is not known_ flint, michigan, july , . the rotunda, state street, chicago, ill. gentlemen: please send as soon as possible the following: prs. camel's hair sport stockings, wide-ribbed, size blue flannel middy blouse, red decoration, size "dix make" housedress, white piqué, size copy of "main street" i enclose a money order for thirty dollars ($ . ) and will ask you to refund any balance in my favor after deducting for invoice and express charges. very truly yours, florence kepp. encl. m. o. williamsport, pa., march , . carroll bros., chestnut st., philadelphia, pa. gentlemen: please send me the following articles by parcels post as soon as possible: doz. paper napkins, apple blossom or nasturtium design "century" cook book pair "luxury" blue felt bedroom slippers, leather sole and heel large bar imported castile soap pair elbow length white silk gloves, size - / enclosed is a money order for $ . . please refund any balance due me. yours truly, janet m. bent (mrs. elmer bent) _formal acknowledgments_ it is still a formal custom to acknowledge some kinds of orders by a printed or an engraved form. some of the older new york business houses use the engraved forms which arose in the days before typewriters and they are very effective. _general acknowledgment forms_ the general stores co. chicago, ill. april , . mr. walter crump, adams street, maple centre, ill. dear sir: we acknowledge with thanks your order no. ______ which will be entered for immediate shipment and handled under our no. ______ to which you will please refer if you have occasion to write about it. if we are unable to ship promptly we will write you fully under separate cover. very truly yours, the general stores co. _s._ the general stores co., chicago, ill. june , . mr. joseph ward, wadsworth hill, ill. dear sir: we have received your order __________ requesting attention to __________ no. __________. unless special attention is demanded, the routine schedule is on a ten-day basis, and we therefore expect to ______ your instrument on or about __________. in corresponding on this subject please refer to order no. ______. very truly yours, the general stores co. _s._ _in answer to a letter without sufficient data_ the general stores co. chicago, ill. september , . mrs. benjamin brown, carr city, ill. dear madam: we thank you for your order recently received for one shirt waist and two pairs of stockings. we were unable to proceed with the order, as the size of the waist was not given. if you would be kind enough to state what size you wish, we shall gladly make immediate shipment. very truly yours, the general stores co. _s._ _where the goods are not in hand_ l. &. l. young fifth avenue new york, n. y. november , . mrs. john evans, park avenue, new york, n. y. dear madam: we are out of size b at present in the white kid shoes you desire, but we should be pleased to order a pair for you, if you wish, which would take two weeks. if this is not satisfactory to you, perhaps you will call and select another pair. kindly let us know what you wish done in this matter. very truly yours, l. & l. young. letters of complaint and adjustment the letter of complaint is purely a matter of stating exactly what the trouble is. the letter replying to the complaint is purely an affair of settling the trouble on a mutually satisfactory basis. the marshall field attitude that "the customer is always right" is the one that it pays to assume. the customer is by no means always right, but in the long run the goodwill engendered by this course is worth far more than the inevitable losses through unfair customers. the big chicago mail order houses have been built up on the principle of returning money without question. legalistic quibbles have no place in the answer to a complaint. the customer is rightly or wrongly dissatisfied; business is built only on satisfied customers. therefore the question is not to prove who is right but to satisfy the customer. this doctrine has its limitations, but it is safer to err in the way of doing too much than in doing too little. _claims for damaged goods_ this letter is complete in that it states what the damage is. commonwealth avenue, boston, mass., february , . messrs. wells & sons, summer street, boston, mass. gentlemen: the furniture that i bought on february rd came to-day in good condition with the exception of one piece, the green enamel tea-wagon. that has a crack in the glass tray and the lower shelf is scratched. will you kindly call for it and, if you have one like it in stock, send it to me to replace the damaged one? very truly yours, edna joyce link. (mrs. george link) main street, saltview, n. y., may , . acme dishwasher co., syracuse, n. y. gentlemen: i regret to inform you that the acme dishwasher which i purchased from your local dealer, i. jacobs, on december , , has failed to live up to your one-year guarantee. in fact, the dishwasher is now in such bad condition that i have not used it for three weeks. i must therefore request that in accordance with the terms of your guarantee you refund the purchase price of ninety dollars ($ ). very truly yours, eleanor scott. (mrs. lawrence scott) _complaint of poor service_ webster corners, mo., april , . messrs. peter swann co., kansas city, mo. gentlemen: attention mr. albert brann. on tuesday last i bought at your store two boys' wash suits. this is monday and the goods have not yet been delivered. the delay has caused me great inconvenience. if this were the first time that you had been careless in sending out orders i should feel less impatient, but three times within the last four weeks i have been similarly annoyed. on march rd i sent back my bill for correction, goods returned not having been credited to my account. on march th the bill was again sent in its original form with a "please remit." i again wrote, making explanation, but to date have received no reply. if i must be constantly annoyed in this manner, i shall have to close my account. very truly yours, helena young tremp. (mrs. kenneth tremp) _replies to letters of complaint_ wells & sons summer street boston, mass. august , . mrs. samuel sloane, chelsea, mass. dear madam: we have your letter of august th in regard to the damaged perambulator. we are very sorry indeed that it was damaged, evidently through improper crating, so that there does not seem to be any redress against the railway. we shall be glad to make a reasonable allowance to cover the cost of repairs, or if you do not think the perambulator can be repaired, you may return it to us at our expense and we will give your account credit for it. we will send you a new one in exchange if you desire. very truly yours, wells & sons. wells & sons summer street boston, mass. may , . mrs. julia furniss, oak street, somerville, mass. dear madam: we have received your note of may th in regard to the bathroom scales on your bill of may st. we do not send these scales already assembled as there is considerable danger of breakage, but we shall send a man out to you on wednesday the twelfth to set them up for you. the missing height bar will be sent to you. very truly yours, wells & sons. the sterling silver co. fifth ave. new york december , . mrs. daniel everett, washington square, new york. dear madam: we regret that it will be impossible to have your tea spoons marked as we promised. marking orders were placed in such quantities before yours was received that the work cannot be executed before december th. we are, therefore, holding the set for your further instructions and hope that this will not cause any disappointment. very truly yours, the sterling silver co. rex typewriter co. so. michigan ave. chicago, ill. november , . mr. john harris, wayside, ill. dear sir: we are in receipt of the damaged no. typewriter which you returned, and have forwarded a new typewriter which was charged to your account. please mail us a freight bill properly noted, showing that the typewriter which you returned was received in a damaged condition, so that the cost of repairs can be collected from the transportation company and the proper credit placed to your account. very truly yours, rex typewriter co. wells & sons summer street boston, mass. september , . mr. louis wright, quincy, mass. dear sir: our warehouse headquarters have just informed us in reply to our telegram, that your order no. of september th was shipped on september th by express direct. we regret the delay, and hope the goods have already reached you. very truly yours, wells & sons. wells & sons summer street boston, mass. june , . mrs. ralph curtis, commonwealth ave., boston, mass. dear madam: we are sorry to learn from your letter of june th that you found two buttons missing from your suit. we have no more buttons like the one you enclosed and cannot get any, as the suit is an import. but if you will let us know the number of buttons in the entire set, we will send you a complete set of buttons as nearly like the sample as possible. i hope this will be a satisfactory solution. very truly yours, wells & sons. _a routine letter of adjustment_ hall brothers fourth street dayton, o. january , . mr. philip drew, milk street, boston, mass. dear sir: we have received your letter of ______ and regret to learn that ______. we will carefully investigate the matter at once and within a day or two will write you fully. very truly yours, hall brothers. wells & sons summer street boston, mass january , . mr. george larabee, sunnyside, vt. dear sir: in compliance with your request of december th we shall mail our check to-morrow for $ . for the humidor which you returned. we regret very much the delay in this matter. our only excuse for it is the holiday rush in our delivery department which prevented the delivery of the humidor in time for christmas. we hope you will overlook the delay and give as another opportunity to serve you. very truly yours, wells & sons. credit and collection letters business is done largely on credit, but comparatively few men in business seem to understand that in the letters concerning accounts lies a large opportunity for business building. the old-style credit man thinks that it is all important to avoid credit losses; he opens an account suspiciously and he chases delinquent accounts in the fashion that a dog goes after a cat. business is not an affair of simply not losing money: it is an affair of making money. many a credit grantor with a perfect record with respect to losses may be a business killer; he may think that his sole function is to prevent losses. his real function is to promote business. the best credit men in the country are rarely those with the smallest percentage of losses, although it does happen that the man who regards every customer as an asset to be conserved in the end has very few losses. therefore, in credit granting, in credit refusing, and in collection, the form letter is not to be used without considerable discrimination. it is inadvisable to strike a personal note, and many firms have found it advantageous to get quite away from the letter in the first reminders of overdue accounts. they use printed cards so that the recipient will know that the request is formal and routine. another point to avoid is disingenuousness, such as "accounts are opened for the convenience of customers." that is an untrue statement. they are opened as a part of a method of doing business and that fact ought clearly to be recognized. it does not help for good feeling to take the "favoring" attitude. every customer is an asset; every prospective customer is a potential asset. they form part of the good-will of the concern. tactless credit handling is the most effective way known to dissipate good-will. _to open a charge account_ fourth avenue, new york, may , . hoyt & jennings, east forty eighth street, new york. gentlemen: i desire to open a credit account with your company. will you let me know what information you desire? very truly yours, harold grant. or, according to the circumstances any of the following may be used: i desire to open a line of credit _________________________ i desire to open an account _______________________________ i desire to maintain an open account ______________________ i desire to maintain a charge account _____________________ _replies to application for credit_ hoyt & jennings east th st. new york may , . mr. harold grant, dey street, new york. dear sir: may we thank you for your letter of may rd in which you expressed a desire to have an account with us? we enclose a copy of our usual form and trust that we shall have the privilege of serving you. yours very truly, (handwritten) _f. burdick_, credit manager, hoyt & jennings. hoyt & jennings east th street new york may , . mr. harold grant, dey street, new york. dear sir: we are glad to notify you that, in accordance with your request, a charge account has been opened in your name. at the beginning of our new business relations, we wish to assure you that we shall try to give satisfaction, both with our goods and with our service. whenever you purchase an article, it is simply necessary that you inform the sales person waiting on you that you have a charge account--and then give your name and address. as is customary in our business, a statement of purchases made during the preceding month will be rendered and will be due on the first of each month. we are awaiting with pleasant anticipation the pleasure of serving you. very truly yours, (handwritten) _f. burdick_, credit manager, hoyt & jennings. _refusing credit_ (this is one of the most difficult of all letters to write and one in which extreme care should be used for it may happen that the references have not replied accurately or that there may be somewhere an error. many people entitled to credit have never asked for it and therefore have trouble in giving references. a brusque refusal will certainly destroy a potential customer and is always to be avoided. the best plan is to leave the matter open. then, if the applicant for credit has really a standing, he will eventually prove it.) hoyt & jennings east th street new york mr. harold grant, dey street, new york. dear sir: may we thank you for your letter of may th and for the names of those whom you were kind enough to give as references? the information that we have received from them is unfortunately not quite complete enough for the purposes of our formal records. would you care to furnish us with further references in order that the account may be properly opened? or perhaps you would rather call in person. very truly yours, (handwritten) _f. burdick_, credit manager, hoyt & jennings. _where an order has been sent in by one who has not opened an account_ gregory supply co. main street baltimore, md. july , . j. k. cramer & brothers, new sussex, md. gentlemen: we write to thank you for your order of july th, amounting to $ and we are anxious to make shipment quickly. our records do not show that we have previously been receiving your orders and hence unfortunately we have not the formal information desired by our credit department so that we can open the account that we should like to have in your name. for we trust that this will be only the first of many purchases. will you favor us by filling out the form enclosed and mailing it back as soon as convenient? the information, of course, will be held strictly confidential. we are preparing the order for shipment and it will be ready to go out. yours truly, (handwritten) _b. allen_, credit manager gregory supply co. letters to references given by the applicant _to a bank_ (a bank will not give specific information) gregory supply co. main street baltimore, md. july , . haines national bank, baltimore, md. gentlemen: we have received a request from mr. cramer of new sussex, md., who informs us that he maintains an account with you for the extension of credit. he has given you as a reference. will you kindly advise us, in confidence and with whatever particularity you find convenient, what you consider his credit rating? any other information that you may desire to give will be appreciated. we trust that we may have the opportunity to reciprocate your courtesy. very truly yours, (handwritten) _b. allen_, credit manager, gregory supply co. _to a commercial house_ gregory supply co. main street baltimore, md. july , . bunce & co., vine ave., baltimore, md. gentlemen: we shall be much obliged to you if you will kindly inform us concerning your credit experience with mr. j. k. cramer of new sussex, md., who desires to open an account with us and who has referred us to you. we shall be happy at any time to reciprocate the courtesy. yours truly, (handwritten) _b. allen_, credit manager gregory supply co. _another letter of the same description in a printed form_ (name and address to be typewritten in) gregory supply co. main street baltimore, md. (date to be typewritten in) gentlemen: j. k. cramer, of new sussex, md., desires to open an account with our store and has given your name as a reference. your courtesy in answering the questions given below will be appreciated. we shall be glad to reciprocate it at any time. yours truly, gregory supply co. (please fill out and return as soon as convenient.) . has he an account with you now? ________________________ . how long has he had the account? _______________________ . how does he pay? prompt ______ medium ______ slow ______ . have you ever had difficulty in collecting? ____________ . what limit have you placed on the account? _____________ . special information. ___________________________________ _in reply to the above_ (a) bunce & company state st. baltimore, md. july , . gregory supply co., baltimore, md. gentlemen: in reply to your letter of october th in which you inquire concerning the responsibility of j. k. cramer of new sussex, md., we are glad to help you with the following information. mr. cramer has had a charge account with our store during the last five years. our records show that he has always met our bills in a satisfactory manner. his account is noted for a monthly limit of $ , but he has never reached it. our own experience is that mr. cramer is a desirable customer. yours very truly, bunce & company. (b) walsh machine co. elm street baltimore, md. july , . gregory supply co., baltimore, md. gentlemen: concerning mr. j. k. c., about whom you inquired in your letter of october th, our records show that our experience with this account has not been satisfactory. we find that during the last five years in which he has had an account with us he has caused us considerable trouble with regard to his payments. at the present moment he owes us $ for purchases made approximately six months ago, to recover which amount we have instructed our attorneys to institute legal proceedings. we hope that this information will be of assistance to you. yours very truly, walsh machine co. plum brothers broad street philadelphia, pa. july , . gregory supply co., main street, baltimore, md. gentlemen: we are glad to give you the information you wish concerning our experiences with the a. b. c. company, about whom you inquire in your letter of april th. the company first came to us on november , . on that date they purchased from us lawn mowers at a total cost of $ . they took advantage of the discount by paying the bill on november th. in january, , they gave us an order for at a total cost of $ . this bill they paid in february. their latest purchase from us was in july, . at this time their order amounted to lawn mowers. they paid the bill in october after we had sent them several requests for remittance. we trust this information will be of some value to you in determining just what amount of credit you may feel justified in extending to them. very truly yours, (handwritten) _h. plum_, plum brothers. _offering credit_ dwight & davis park street albany, n. y. october , . mrs. herbert reid, fourth avenue, albany, n. y. dear madam: whenever you wish to come in and purchase without cash, it will be a great pleasure to us to open a charge account with you. we have made a record here in the store so that whenever you call it will have been arranged for you to purchase whatever you want. we think you will approve of the character of service and the quality of merchandise. we wish to win not only your patronage, but your friendship for our store. every up-to-date woman realizes the many benefits, the conveniences, and even prestige she enjoys through having a charge account at a dependable store. a store, in turn, is judged by its charge accounts--it is rated by the women who have accounts there. and so, because of your standing in the community, if you avail yourself of our invitation to do your buying here, you are reflecting credit both on yourself and on us. we hope you will decide to let us serve you--all our facilities are completely at your service. we should like you to feel that our store is especially adapted to your needs. yours very truly, (handwritten) _c. dale_, credit manager, dwight & davis. summit box company kansas city, mo. november , . george harrow & co., fifth street, kansas city, mo. gentlemen: we want to thank you for your order of november th, with your check enclosed in full payment. we appreciate the business you have been giving us. the thought has frequently occurred to us that you may desire the advantages of an open account with us. we believe that such an arrangement will make transactions more convenient. we therefore have the pleasure of notifying you that we have noted your account for our regular credit terms of % net , up to a limit of $ . we hope that both your business and our acquaintance with you will develop to such an extent that it will be a pleasure to extend to you from time to time larger credit accommodations to take care of your increasing needs. the business relations between us have been so agreeable that we feel they will continue so. please remember that if we can ever be of assistance to you in helping you in your business we only ask that you call upon us. very truly yours, (handwritten) _g. harris_ credit manager summit box company. collection letters may very easily be overdone. the old idea was that any expense or any threat was justified if it got the money, but among the more advanced collection departments common sense has crept in, and it has been ascertained by cost-finding methods that it is not worth while to pursue a small account beyond a certain point and that when that point is reached it is economy to drop the matter. how far it is wise to go in attempting to collect an account is an affair of costs, unless one has a penchant for throwing good money after bad. the point to bear in mind in writing a collection letter is that it is a collection letter--that it is an effort to get money which is owed. it would not seem necessary to emphasize so entirely self-evident a point were it not unfortunately sometimes overlooked and the collection letter made an academic exercise. there is no excuse for a long series of collection letters--say eight or ten of them. after a man has received three or four letters you can take it for granted that he is beyond being moved by words. you must then have recourse to some other mode of reaching him. drawing on a debtor is also of small use; the kind of a man who will honor a collection draft would pay his bill anyhow. if a debtor has assets and there is no dispute concerning the account, he will usually pay. he may pay because you threaten him, but most people with the ability to owe money are quite impervious to threats, and although a threatening letter may seem to bring results, it can never be the best letter because on the other side of the ledger must be recorded the loss of the customer. the average writer of a collection letter usually gets to threatening something or other and quite often exposes himself to the danger of counter legal action. (see chapter xi on the law of letters.) the most successful collection men do not threaten. the best of them actually promote good-will through their handling of the accounts. the bully-ragging, long-winded collection letter has no place in self-respecting business. the so-called statements of collection by which papers drawn up to resemble writs are sent through the mails, or served, not only have no place in business but many of them are actually illegal. the letters which are appended have been chosen both for their effectiveness and their courtesy. they represent the best practice. it is, by the way, not often wise for the creditor to set out his own need for money as a reason why the debtor should pay the account. it is true that the sympathy of the debtor may be aroused, but the tale of misery may lead him to extend comfort rather than aid. however, several such letters have been included, not because they are good but because sometimes they may be used. _collection letters_ most firms have adopted a series of collection letters beginning with the routine card reminder of an overdue account and following with gradually increasingly personal second, third, fourth, and so on, letters. _first letter--printed card_ the enclosed statement of account is sent to you as we believe you have overlooked its payment. stone brothers _second letter_ stone brothers new york march , . miss grace duncan, prospect park west, brooklyn, n. y. dear madam: there appears an amount of $ . open in your name for the months of october to january which, according to our terms of sale, is now overdue, and if no adjustment is necessary, we trust you will kindly favor us with a check in settlement. very truly yours, stone brothers, new york, (handwritten) _james miller_, collection manager. [illustration: specimens of business letterheads used by english firms] _third letter_ stone brothers new york april , . miss grace duncan, prospect park west, brooklyn, n. y. dear madam: our letters of february th and march th have brought no reply from you. since they have not been returned by the post office we must presume that you received them. you naturally wish to keep your credit clear. we wish to have it clear. it is really a mutual affair. will you not send a check and keep the account on a pleasant basis? very truly yours, stone brothers, (handwritten) _james miller_, collection manager. the amount is $ . . _fourth letter_ stone brothers new york april , . miss grace duncan, prospect park west, brooklyn, new york. dear madam: we have no desire to resort to the law to collect the $ . due us, but unless your remittance is in our hands by may st, we shall take definite steps for the legal collection of your account. may we hear from you at once? very truly yours, stone brothers, (handwritten) _james miller_, collection manager. the following are collection letters of varying degrees of personal tone. in these seven letters are given the body of the letter, with the salutation and the complimentary close. headings and signatures have been omitted. dear sir: a statement is enclosed of your account, which is now past due. a remittance will be appreciated. yours truly, dear madam: we desire to call your attention again to your past-due account for the month of january for $ . , a statement of which was mailed to you several weeks ago. we shall appreciate receiving your check in payment of this account by return mail. very truly yours, gentlemen: two weeks ago we mailed you a statement of account due at that time, and as we have heard nothing from you we thought it possible that our letter may have miscarried. we are sending you a duplicate of the former statement, which we hope may reach you safely and have your attention. very truly yours, _to follow the preceding letter_ gentlemen: we call your attention to the enclosed statement of account which is now past due. we have sent you two statements previous to this, to which you seem to have given no attention. it may be possible that you have overlooked the matter, but we hope this will be a sufficient reminder and that you will oblige us with a remittance without further delay. very truly yours, dear sir: we are enclosing a statement of your account and we request as a special favor that you send us a remittance previous to the th of this month if possible. the amount is small, but not the less important. we have unusually heavy obligations maturing on the first of next month and you will understand that for the proper conduct of business the flow of credit should not be dammed up. in looking over your account for the last few months, it occurs to us that we are not getting a great deal of your business. if this is due to any failure or negligence on our part, perhaps you will undertake to show us where we are lacking because we surely want all of your business that we can get. very truly yours, _follow-up letters_ dear sir: we wrote you on th february and enclosed a statement of your account. we hoped at the time that you would send us a check by return mail. if our account does not agree with your books, kindly let us know at once so that we may promptly adjust the differences. we hope that you can accommodate us as requested in our previous letter and that we will hear from you by the th of march. we again assure you that a remittance at this particular time will be greatly appreciated. also please remember that we want your orders, too. prices on copper wire are likely to make a sharp advance within a few days. very truly yours, january , . dear sir: we are enclosing a statement showing the condition of your account at this writing, and we must ask you to be kind enough to do your utmost to forward us your check by return mail. our fiscal year closes january st and it is naturally our pride and endeavor to have as many accounts closed and in good standing as is possible for the coming year, and this can materialize only with your kind coöperation. very truly yours, letters of application _application for position as stenographer_ west th street, new york, n. y., april , . mr. b. c. kellerman, broad street, new york, n. y. dear sir: this may interest you: i can take dictation at an average rate of words a minute and i can read my notes. they are always accurate. if you will try me, you will find you do not have to repeat any dictation. i never misspell words. i am nineteen, a high school graduate, quick and accurate at figures. i have a good position now, uptown, but i should prefer to be with some large corporation downtown. i am interested in a position with room at the top. i am willing to work for $ a week until i have demonstrated my ability and then i know you will think me worth more. a letter or a telephone message will bring me in any morning you say to take your morning's dictation, write your letters, and leave the verdict to you. will you let me try? very truly yours, edith hoyt. telephone riverside _application for position as secretary_ east th street, chicago, ill., december , . mr. ralph hodge, boone & co., so. michigan ave., chicago, ill. dear sir: this is in answer to your advertisement for a secretary. i have had the experience and training which would, i think enable me satisfactorily to fill such a position. i recognize, of course, that whatever my experience and training have been they would be worse than useless unless they could be modified to suit your exact requirements. (here set out the experience.) the lowest salary i have ever received was twelve dollars a week, when i began work. the highest salary i have received was thirty dollars a week, but i think that it would be better to leave the salary matter open until it might be discovered whether i am worth anything or nothing. very truly yours, (miss) mary rogers. _answer to an advertisement from an applicant who has had no experience_ east rd street, chicago, ill. mr. ralph hodge, boone & co., so. michigan ave., chicago, ill. dear sir: this is in answer to your advertisement for a secretary, in which you ask that the experience of the applicant be set forth. i have had no experience whatsoever as a secretary. therefore, although i might have a great deal to learn, i should have nothing to unlearn. i understand what is expected of a secretary, and i hope that i have at least the initial qualifications. i have had a fair education, having graduated from central high school and the crawford business academy, and i have done a great deal of reading. i am told that i can write a good letter. i know that i can take any kind of dictation and that i can transcribe it accurately, and i have no difficulty in writing letters from skeleton suggestions. your advertisement does not give the particular sort of business that you are engaged in, but in the course of my reading i have gathered a working knowledge of economics, finance, business practice, and geography, some of which might be useful. i am writing this letter in spite of the fact that you specified that experience was necessary, because one of my friends, who is secretary to a very well-known corporation president, told me that she began in her present place quite without experience and found herself helped rather than handicapped by the lack of it. i am twenty-two years old and i can give you any personal or social references that you might care for. i have no ideas whatsoever on salary. in fact, it would be premature even to think of anything of the kind. what i am most anxious about is to have a talk with you. very truly yours, (miss) margaret booth. _applications for position as sales manager_ huntington ave., boston, mass. mr. henry jessup, white manufacturing co., milk street, columbus, o. dear sir: mr. a. c. brown of the bronson company tells me you are in immediate need of a sales manager for the western illinois territory. western illinois offers a promising opportunity for the sale of farm implements and devices. during my experience with the johnson & jones company, i got to know the people of this section very well, and i know how to approach them. the farmers are well-to-do and ready for improvements that will better their homes, lands, and stock. there could not be a better place to start. as mr. brown will tell you, i have been with the bronson company for five years. i started as clerk in the credit office, gradually working out into the field--first as investigator, then salesman, and for the last two years as sales manager of the western virginia territory. the returns from this field have increased per cent. since i began. with the hearty coöperation of the men on the road, i have built up a system about which i should like to tell you. it would work out splendidly selling defiance harrows in western illinois. my home is in joliet and i want to make my headquarters there. i have no other reason for quitting the bronson company, who are very fair as far as salary and advancement are considered. my telephone number is cherry . a wire or letter will bring me to columbus to talk with you. very truly yours, gerald barbour. blain ave., boston, mass., may , . mr. john force, beacon street, boston, mass. dear sir: this letter may be of some concern to you. i am not a man out of a job, but have what most men would consider one that is first-class. but i want to change, and if you can give me a little of your time, i will tell you why and how that fact may interest you. in a word, i have outgrown my present position. i want to get in touch with a business that is wide-awake and progressive; one that will permit me to work out, unhampered, my ideas on office organization and management--ideas that are well-founded, conservative, and efficient. my present position does not give play to initiative. if you at this time happen to be looking for a man really to manage your office, audit accounts, or take charge of credits, my qualifications and business record will show you that i am able to act in any or all of these capacities. i have written with confidence because i am sure of myself, and if i undertake to direct your work, you may be assured that it has a big chance of being successful. if you so desire, i shall be glad to submit references in a personal interview. very truly yours, clive drew. telephone winthrop -w _answers to letters of application_ harrison national bank trenton, n. j. february , . mr. james russell, state street, trenton, n. j. dear sir: i wish to acknowledge your letter of application of december th. at present we have no vacancies of the type you desire. i am, however, placing your application on file. very truly yours, samuel caldwell. harrison national bank trenton, n. j. february , . mr. james russell, state street, trenton, n. j. dear sir: i wish to acknowledge your letter of application of december th. at present we have no vacancies of the type that you desire. however, i should be very glad to have a talk with you on december th at my office at four o'clock. very truly yours, samuel caldwell. letters of reference _letter asking for reference_ walnut street, philadelphia, pa., may , . mr. william moyer, triumph hosiery co., broad street, philadelphia, pa. my dear mr. moyer: i am looking for a position as cashier with the bright weaving company. my duties there would be similar in every way to my work in your office, and a recommendation from you would help greatly. mr. sawyer, the first vice-president of the bright weaving company, knows you personally, hence an opinion from you would have particular effect. your kindness would be deeply appreciated, as have been all your kindnesses in the past. yours very sincerely, philip rockwell. a useful practice adopted by some firms is the requirement of a photograph from every applicant for a position. haddon iron works philadelphia, pa. _paste photograph of applicant here_ april , . b. f. harlow & co., paterson, n. j. dear sirs: philip smith (photo attached) has applied to us for a position as steamfitter. his application states that he has been in your employ for three years and that he is leaving to take a position in this city. as all applicants are required by us to furnish references as to character and ability, we shall appreciate your giving us the following information. very truly yours, (handwritten) _samuel sloane_, employment manager. is his statement correct? are his character and habits good? had he the confidence of his employers? can he fill the position for which he has applied? remarks: signed dated _some general letters of recommendation_ march , . to whom it may concern: i have known the bearer, john hope, for four years. he is of fine family and has been one of our most highly regarded young men. i would heartily recommend him. richard brown. april , . gentlemen: the bearer, george frothingham, is a young man of my acquaintance whom i know and whose family i have known for some time. they are splendid people. this boy is ambitious and thoroughly reliable. i hope you can find a place for him. very truly yours, gerald law. june , . to whom it may concern: this is to certify that the bearer, ernest hill, is an acquaintance of mine, a man whom i know to be thoroughly trustworthy. harold smith. july , . dear sir: this is to certify that joseph rance has been in my employ for eighteen months. he is a most willing and able worker, honest, steady, and faithful. i regret that i was obliged to let him go from my employ. i feel very safe in highly recommending him to you. very truly yours, george bunce. _recommendation for a special position_ harcourt manufacturing co. boylston street boston, mass. october , . mr. gordon edwards, tremont street, boston, mass. dear mr. edwards: at luncheon last wednesday you mentioned that you were in need of another advertising writer. if the position is still open, i should like to recommend mr. bruce walker. when i first met mr. walker he was with bellamy, sears & co., boston, and was doing most of their newspaper advertising. his work was so good that i offered him a position as advertising writer with us. he accepted, with the approval of bellamy sears & co., and has been with me for the last three years. he has written for us some of the best drawing copy that we ever used, and his work has been satisfactory in every way. he is original and modern in his advertising ideas, and knows how to express them forcefully but without exaggeration. his english is perfect. i shall greatly regret losing mr. walker, but i cannot advance him above his present position, and i agree with him that he is equal to a bigger position than he has here. i hope you can give him the opportunity that he seeks. if you will see him personally, you will oblige both him and me. very sincerely yours, b. a. yeomans. _thanks for recommendation_ kelley ave., cleveland, o., october , . mr. john saunders, jones publishing co., cleveland, o. my dear mr. saunders: your influence and kindly interest have secured for me the position with tully & clark. i want to thank you for the excellent recommendation which you gave me and to assure you that i shall give my best attention to my new work. very truly yours, john dillon. letters of introduction the method of delivering letters of introduction is fully described under social letters of introduction. _answer to a request for a letter of introduction_ grand ave., detroit, mich., august , . mr. albert hall, main street, detroit, mich. my dear mr. hall: accompanying this note you find letters of introduction which i hope will be what you want. i am glad to give you these letters and should you need any further assistance of this kind, please consider me at your disposal. yours truly, clement wilks. _general letters of introduction_ grand ave., detroit, mich., august , . this will introduce the bearer, mr. albert hall, whom i personally know as being a gentleman in conduct and reputation. any courtesy shown to mr. hall i shall consider a favor to myself, and i ask for him all possible attention and service. clement wilks. june , . to whom it may concern: the bearer, david clark, has been an acquaintance of mine for five years. he is a young man of good habits. i would recommend him for any position within his ability. ellery saunders. _special introduction_ (the inside address, heading, and signature are to be supplied) dear sir: mr. walter green, whom this will introduce to you, is a member of our credit department. he is visiting new york on a personal matter, but he has offered to make a personal investigation of the crump case and i have advised him to see you, as the man who knows most about that affair. if you can find the time to give him a brief interview, you will do him a favor, and i also shall appreciate it. yours very truly, __________________ vice-president. _introducing a stenographer in order to secure a position for her_ wall street, new york, n. y., february , . mr. william everett, madison avenue, new york, n. y. my dear mr. everett: the bearer of this letter, miss mildred bryan, my stenographer, is available for a position, owing to the fact that i am moving my office to cincinnati. she is an unusually competent young woman--quick, accurate, intelligent, and familiar with the routine of a law office. if you need a stenographer, you cannot do better than engage miss bryan, and i am taking the liberty of giving her this letter for you. very truly yours, howard s. briggs. letters of inquiry _requests for information_ bradford mills, pa., august , . dr. louis elliott, walnut street, philadelphia, pa. my dear dr. elliott: i am writing a paper on vitamines to be read before the mothers' club, an organization of bradford mills mothers. i have drawn most of my material from your article in the _medical magazine_, acknowledging, of course, the source of my information. there are several points, however, on which i am not clear. as it is of great importance that this subject be presented to the mothers correctly, i am addressing you personally to get the facts. . am i to understand that no other foods than those you mention contain these vitamines? . are all the classes of vitamines necessary to life and will a child fed on foods containing all the known vitamines be better conditioned than one fed on only one kind? i shall greatly appreciate your answering my questions. the members of the club have shown surprising interest in this matter of food. yours sincerely, mabel manners. east forty-sixth street, new york, n. y., june , . the prentiss candy co., long island city, n. y. gentlemen: the _better food magazine_, to which i am a contributor, has asked me to make an investigation of the manufacture of the most widely advertised foods, with a view to writing an article on foods for the magazine. i should like if possible to talk with someone and to make a short visit to the factory. if you can arrange an appointment for me during the next week, will you let me know? i shall greatly appreciate it. very truly yours, (miss) vera henderson. _answers to letters of inquiry_ the prentiss candy co. long island city, n. y. june , . miss vera henderson, east forty-sixth street, new york, n. y. dear madam: we have your letter of th june and we shall be glad to give you any assistance in our power. if you will call at the factory office next week on tuesday the nd or wednesday the rd and present the enclosed card to mr. jones, you will get all the information you desire. very truly yours, (handwritten) _b. j. clark_, the prentiss candy co. pine grove lodge, stanton, n. y. absolutely fireproof open all the year the finest resort hotel in the country may , . mr. charles keith, madison ave., new york, n. y. dear sir: we have your letter of may th and in answer we are enclosing some of our descriptive literature. we can offer you absolute comfort together with an almost matchless environment in the points of beauty and of suitability for all sports. our rates are on the american plan. we have the finest american plan kitchen and table anywhere. we enclose a menu. our single rooms with private bath are $ , $ , and $ per week up for one person. rooms without bath, but with hot and cold running water and adjacent to bath are $ per week. double rooms with private bath and furnished with two single beds are $ , $ , and $ per week up for two persons. rooms for two without bath are $ per week. these rates hold until september st. the difference in rates is caused by the size and location of rooms, but every room is furnished with taste and care. the decorations have been carefully thought out. there are no undesirable rooms at the lodge and every room is an outside room. those on the east overlook the -acre golf course with a magnificent view of the mountains, and those on the west front the wooded slopes of sunset mountain. stanton affords the greatest combination of scenery, health-giving climate, and facilities for enjoyment. add to this the comforts and luxuries of a modern hotel such as pine grove lodge and the result is perfect. we feel quite sure you will find a visit here restful or lively--as you will. one of the attractions of the place is its facilities for occupying oneself in one's own way. we shall be glad to make reservation for you at any time or to answer any further inquiries. yours very truly, pine grove lodge. if you should receive an inquiry for advice, opinion, or information, which you do not care, for some reason, to give, you should at least reply stating that you cannot comply with the request, in as courteous a manner as possible. chapter viii the use of form paragraphs a considerable part of the day's run of correspondence in a business office has to do with not more than half-a-dozen subjects. quotations will be asked for. tenders will be made. complaints will be made and received. adjustments of various kinds will be done, and so on, through a list that varies with the particular business of the office. it is advisable to keep the tone of correspondence on a fairly uniform level. therefore if each letter has to be individually dictated, only a man mentally equipped to write letters can do the dictating. the time of such a man is expensive and often might better be devoted to other matters. hence the invention of what is known as a form paragraph, which is a standardized paragraph that can be used with slight variations as a section of a great many letters. the result is that most routine mail does not have to be dictated. a letter is merely read, the essential facts dictated or noted on the letter itself, and certain symbols added which tell the stenographer the form paragraphs that are to be used. the letter is then almost mechanically produced. some companies have gone so extensively into the writing of form paragraphs that they have sections covering practically every subject that can arise. this possibly carrying the idea too far. convenience may become inconvenience, and there is of course always the danger of getting in a slightly unsuitable paragraph which will reveal to the reader that the letter has not been personally dictated. however, a certain number of form paragraphs considerably reduces the cost of letter writing and also conduces to the raising of the standards, for the mere reading of well-phrased form letters will often induce in an otherwise poor correspondent a certain regard for clear expression. the proper form paragraphs that any concern may profitably use are a matter of specific investigation. the way to get at the list of useful forms is to take all of the letters received and all of the letters written during, say, one or two months and then classify them. a number of letters will have to do with purely individual cases. these letters should be discarded. they are letters which would have to be personally dictated in any event and there is no use wasting time composing forms for them. the remaining letters will fall into divisions, and through these divisions it will become apparent what points in the correspondence arise so frequently and in so nearly the same form as to be capable of being expressed in form paragraphs. there will probably be a number of subjects which can be covered fully by two or three form letters, but a nicer adjustment will usually be had by thinking of form paragraphs rather than of form letters, for skillfully drawn and skillfully used form paragraphs will so closely simulate the personal letter as to leave no doubt in the mind of the reader that considerable trouble has been taken to put the matter before him courteously and exactly. chapter ix children's letters children's letters may be written on ordinary stationery, but it adds a good deal of interest to their letter writing if they may use some of the several pretty, special styles to be had at any good stationer's. the following examples of children's letters include: letter of invitation from a child to a child. letter of invitation from a parent to a child. letter from a parent to a parent inviting a child. letter of thanks to an aunt for a gift. letter to a sick playmate. letter to a teacher. letter to a grandmother on her birthday. _invitation to a birthday party_ april , . dear frank: i am going to have a birthday party next friday afternoon, from three-thirty until six o'clock. i hope you will come and help us to have a good time. sincerely yours, harriet evans. park avenue _accepting_ manhattan avenue, april , . dear harriet: it is so kind of you to ask me to your birthday party next friday afternoon. i shall be very glad to come. sincerely yours, frank dawson. _regretting_ manhattan avenue, april , . dear harriet: i am very sorry that i cannot go to your birthday party on next friday. my mother is taking me to visit my cousin, so i shall be away. thank you for asking me. i hope you will all have a great deal of fun. sincerely yours, frank dawson. _invitation from a parent to a child_ dear ethel: the twins are going to have a little party on friday afternoon and they would like you to come. can you come at three-thirty? tell your mother we will arrange that you get home at six. cordially yours, katherine g. evans. _from a parent to another parent_ dear mrs. heywood: dorothy will have a birthday on tuesday, the thirteenth of june. we are planning, if the weather is fine, to have a lawn party. otherwise we shall have it in the house. she hopes that you will let madeline come and i am sure they will all have a good time. if you send madeline at four i will see that she returns home at six. cordially yours, bernice lawson grant. _to a friend_ bellville, lancaster county, pa., june , . dear bob: will you visit us on the farm during your summer vacation? father has bought me a boat and we can go fishing and swimming. mabel has a pony and i know she will let us ride him. please let me know if you may come and if you may stay two weeks. sincerely yours, roger palmer. _thanks for a gift:_ west tenth street. december , . dear aunt louise: you were wonderful to think of sending me those fine skates for my birthday. they are just the kind i wanted and i wish to thank you. i shall take good care of them. your affectionate nephew, john orr. _to a sick playmate_ elmwood avenue, june , . dear dorothy: i am so sorry you are ill, but your mother says you are getting better. if you like, i shall let you have my book with the poem called "the land of counterpane." it is about a sick little boy who is playing with his toy soldiers and people and villages. in the picture they seem to be making him forget he is sick. all the boys and girls hope you will soon be out to play again. sincerely yours, betty foster. _to a teacher_ park avenue, new york, n. y., february , . dear miss sewell: i want to thank you for your kindness in helping me with my studies, especially arithmetic. without your help i should not have been able to pass my examinations. mother asks that you will come some day next week to take tea with us. sincerely yours, susan evans. _to a grandparent_ dear grandmother: i wish you a very happy birthday and i hope you will like the present i sent you. mother helped me to make it. i send you my best love. your loving grandchild, evelyn. here is a charming letter[ ] that helen keller when she was ten years of age wrote to john greenleaf whittier on the occasion of his birthday: south boston, dec. , . dear kind poet, this is your birthday; that was the first thought which came into my mind when i awoke this morning; and it made me glad to think i could write you a letter and tell you how much your little friends love their sweet poet and his birthday. this evening they are going to entertain their friends with readings from your poems and music. i hope the swift winged messengers of love will be here to carry some of the sweet melody to you, in your little study by the merrimac. at first i was very sorry when i found that the sun had hidden his shining face behind dull clouds, but afterwards i thought why he did it, and then i was happy. the sun knows that you like to see the world covered with beautiful white snow and so he kept back all his brightness, and let the little crystals form in the sky. when they are ready, they will softly fall and tenderly cover every object. then the sun will appear in all his radiance and fill the world with light. if i were with you to-day i would give you eighty-three kisses, one for each year you have lived. eighty-three years seems very long to me. does it seem long to you? i wonder how many years there will be in eternity. i am afraid i cannot think about so much time. i received the letter which you wrote to me last summer, and i thank you for it. i am staying in boston now at the institution for the blind, but i have not commenced my studies yet, because my dearest friend, mr. anagnos, wants me to rest and play a great deal. teacher is well and sends her kind remembrance to you. the happy christmas time is almost here! i can hardly wait for the fun to begin! i hope your christmas day will be a very happy one and that the new year will be full of brightness and joy for you and every one. from your little friend helen a. keller. [ ] this and the letter following are from "the story of my life," by helen keller. copyright, , , by helen keller. published in book form by doubleday, page & co. and the distinguished poet's reply: my dear young friend: i was very glad to have such a pleasant letter on my birthday. i had two or three hundred others and thine was one of the most welcome of all. i must tell thee about how the day passed at oak knoll. of course the sun did not shine, but we had great open wood fires in the rooms, which were all very sweet with roses and other flowers, which were sent to me from distant friends; and fruits of all kinds from california and other places. some relatives and dear old friends were with me through the day. i do not wonder thee thinks eighty-three years a long time, but to me it seems but a very little while since i was a boy no older than thee, playing on the old farm at haverhill. i thank thee for all thy good wishes, and wish thee as many. i am glad thee is at the institution; it is an excellent place. give my best regards to miss sullivan, and with a great deal of love i am thy old friend, john g. whittier. chapter x telegrams perhaps the most important thing to guard against in the writing of telegrams is a choice of words which, when run together, may be read two ways. as there should be no punctuation (and telegraph companies do not hold themselves responsible for punctuation) the sentences must be perfectly clear. there are instances where the use of punctuation has caused trouble. in cases where punctuation is absolutely necessary, as for instance when more than one subject must be covered in the same message, the word "stop" is employed to divide the sentences, as: will arrive eight-thirty wednesday stop telephone gaines am coming stop will be at hotel pennsylvania therefore write sentences so that when they are run together there is only one interpretation. use no salutation or complimentary closing. leave out all words that are not necessary to the meaning. omit first-person pronouns where they are sure to be understood. do not divide words in a telegram. compound words are accepted as one word. numbers should be spelled out, principally because it is more likely to insure correct transmission, and secondly because it costs less. for example, in the ordinal th the suffix _th_ is counted as another word. the minimum charge for telegrams is the cost of ten words, not counting the name, address, and signature. nothing is saved by cutting the message to less than ten words. there is a certain fixed rate of charge for every word over ten. in counting the words, count as one word the following: i--every word in the name of an individual or a concern as: clive and meyer co. (four words) deforest and washburn co. (four words also, as deforest is counted as one word). ii--every dictionary word. in the case of cablegrams, words of over fifteen letters are counted as two words. iii--every separate letter as the "m" in "george m. sykes" (three words). iv--every figure in a number as (three words). v--names of states, territories, counties, cities, and villages. vi--weights and measures, decimal points, punctuation marks within the sentence. to save expense in long messages codes can be used in which one word stands for several words. the western union has an established code--or private codes can be arranged. five letters are allowed as one code word. a word of six or seven letters will thus count as two words. in cablegrams the use of codes is common on account of the higher rate for cablegrams. since the name, address, date, and signature are all counted, code words are frequently used for the name and address. code language is allowed only in the first class of cable messages. occasional telegrams a graceful, concise, pertinent, and well-worded "occasional" telegram is frequently not easy to write. the following forms are suggested for the composition of some of these telegrams. the longer forms can be sent most cheaply as night letters or day letters. a night letter of fifty words can be sent for the cost of a ten-word full-rate telegram, i.e., from cents to $ . , depending on the distance. a day letter of fifty words can be sent for one and one half the cost of a ten-word full-rate message, i.e., from cents to $ . , depending on the distance. _new year greetings_ best wishes for the new year. may it bring to you and your family health, happiness, peace, and prosperity. may it see your hopes fulfilled and may it be rich in the successful accomplishment of your highest aims. best wishes for a happy new year. may peace and happiness be yours in the new year. may fortune smile upon you and favor you with many blessings. i (we) wish you a happy new year, a year big with success and achievement, a year rich with the affection of those who are dear to you, a year mellow with happiness and contentment. what the coming year may hold we can none of us foresee. it is my (our) earnest wish that for you it may bring forth a generous harvest of happiness and good fortune. may the coming year and all that succeed it deal lightly and kindly with you. may the coming year bring you happiness in fullest measure. we think of you with the affection born of our long friendship which the recurring year only strengthens. may the new year bring you health, happiness, and all other good things. health, happiness, and contentment, may these be yours in the new year. may health, happiness, and prosperity be yours in bountiful measure in the year to come. may the new year be a good year to you and yours--full of health and happiness. may each of the three hundred and sixty-five days of the new year be a happy one for you. the happiest of new years to you and yours. may the new year find you in the enjoyment of health and happiness. _easter greetings_ our thoughts turn to you with affection and best wishes at this easter season with the hope that peace, prosperity, and plenty may attend your life to-day and through all your days to come. easter greeting from a friend who thinks of you with constant affection. this easter greeting carries to you the affection of an old friend. may this easter day find you in the enjoyment of health and happiness. best wishes for a happy easter. best wishes for a happy easter day. may your future ever be as bright as the springtime. just a message to a friend, to convey to you my wish that this easter may bring you happiness and good fortune. may easter gladness fill your heart to-day and may all good attend you. i (we) wish you joy and happiness at this eastertide. may happiness and health be yours on this easter day and in the days to come. we all join in best wishes for a happy easter day to you and your family. easter greetings to you and yours. may your easter be a bright and happy one. we all wish you and yours a happy easter. love and best wishes for a happy easter. my (our) easter greetings go to you. may the day be a joyful one for you. _thanksgiving day greetings_ best wishes for a happy thanksgiving day. good cheer and plenty, the love of your dear ones, the affection of your friends, may all these contribute to a happy thanksgiving day. may your thanksgiving day be a day of happiness and contentment. may your thanksgiving day be full of happiness and all good cheer. that i am (we are) not at home to-day to join in the festivities is a great sorrow to me (us). love to all the dear family. i never forget the joy of this day at home. love from one far away. although i (we) cannot be with you to-day i (we) have the memory of past thanksgiving days at home. god bless you all. think of me (us) as being with you in spirit. my (our) love to you all. let us never fail to be thankful that the years only increase the strength of our long friendship. it is with great thanksgiving that i (we) think of my (our) dear ones at home. my (our) one wish this thanksgiving day is that i (we) might be with you. affectionate wishes for your happiness. though i (we) cannot be with you at the thanksgiving day board, my (our) thoughts are with you to-day. around the family table think of me (us) as i (we) absent, shall think of you. my (our) love to all. i (we) can picture you all at home. how i (we) long to be with you. my (our) love to all the family. _christmas greetings_ every good wish for a merry christmas and a happy and prosperous new year. i need not tell you with what affection we are thinking of you and yours at this christmas season. god bless you all. every good wish for a merry christmas and a happy and prosperous new year. my (our) very best wishes for a merry christmas. merry christmas to you and yours. may your christmas be a very happy one. merry christmas to you and all the family. we all join in wishing you a merry christmas. all affection and good wishes for a merry christmas to you and yours. that your christmas be a very happy one is the wish of your sincere friend. may christmas bring you joy and happiness. you are constantly in my (our) thoughts which carry to you to-day all affectionate wishes for a happy christmas. a merry christmas and a happy new year. best wishes for a merry christmas and happy new year. love and a merry christmas to you all. may your christmas be a merry one and the new year full of happiness. affectionate greetings for a merry christmas and a happy new year. may this christmas find you well and happy. love and best wishes to you and yours. may christmas bring you naught but joy and banish all care and sorrow. ---- joins me in very best wishes for a merry christmas. a merry christmas to all the dear ones at home. it is my (our) dearest wish that i (we) might be with you at this season of happiness and good-will--merry christmas and happy new year. _birthday greetings_ many happy returns of the day. my (our) affectionate thoughts and every good wish go to you on this your birthday. may each succeeding year bring to you the best satisfaction which life holds. many happy returns of the day. best wishes for a happy birthday. best wishes for your birthday. may all your ways be pleasant ways and all your days be happy days. birthday greetings. i (we) wish you a long life and everything that makes a long life worth living. best wishes for your birthday. may you live long and prosper. my (our) thoughts are with you on your birthday. may all your days be happy days. i (we) wish you many happy years blessed with health, success, and friendship and filled with all the best that life can hold. we all join in best wishes for a very happy birthday and many years of health and prosperity. we all join in best wishes for a very happy birthday. may your birthday mark the dawn of a year of health, happiness, and good fortune. _wedding messages_ sincerest congratulations to the bride and groom from an old friend who wishes you both years of health, happiness, and prosperity. may the future hold only the best for you that this world can give. heartiest congratulations. i (we) wish you many years of happiness. mrs. ---- and i join in heartiest congratulations. hearty congratulations. may your years be many and happy ones. my (our) sincerest and best wishes for your happiness. we all join in hearty congratulations and best wishes. may happiness, health, and prosperity be with you through the years to come. may all good fortune attend you, may your sky ever be bright, may no clouds of sorrow or trouble shadow it, and may your path be long and filled with joy. every happiness be yours dear ---- on this your wedding day. let an old family friend send his (her) love and congratulations to the bride and groom. may all good fairies watch over you. may they keep far from you all care and sorrow and brighten your path with sunshine and happiness. to the bride and groom, love and congratulations from an old friend. may this day be the beginning of a long, happy, and prosperous life for you both. _on the birth of a child_ love to the dear mother and her little son (daughter). heartiest congratulations and love to mother and son (daughter). we rejoice with you in the happiness that has come into your lives. love to mother and son (daughter). my best wishes to the newly arrived son (daughter) and to his (her) mother. we are all (i am) delighted to hear the news. hearty congratulations. a warm welcome to the new arrival and best wishes for his (her) health and happiness. to the dear mother and her little son (daughter) love and every good wish. hearty congratulations on the arrival of the new son (daughter). _messages of condolence_ you have my heartfelt sympathy in this hour of your bereavement. i wish i might find words in which to express my sorrow at your loss which is also mine. may you have the strength to bear this great affliction. you have my (our) heartfelt sympathy. my (our) heartfelt sympathy in your great sorrow. i (we) want you to know with what tender sympathy i am (we are) thinking of you in these days of your bereavement. my (our) sincere and heartfelt sympathy. i (we) have just heard of your great affliction. let me (us) send to you my (our) heartfelt sympathy. my (our) sincere sympathy. in the death of your dear father (mother--wife--sister--brother) i (we) have lost one whom it was my (our) privilege to call my (our) friend. my (our) heartfelt sympathy goes out to you in your sorrow. ---- joins me in the expression of our deepest sympathy. my (our) love and sympathy go out to you in your great sorrow. i (we) share your sorrow for i (we) have lost a dear friend. all love and sympathy to you and yours. i (we) send you my (our) heartfelt sympathy. to have enjoyed the friendship of your father (husband--brother) i (we) hold one of the greatest privileges of my life (our lives). my (our) sincere sympathy goes out to you in your heavy affliction. my (our) love and sympathy in your sudden affliction. i am (we are) greatly shocked at the sad news. you have my (our) deepest sympathy. my (our) deepest sympathy in your great loss. if there is anything i (we) can do, do not hesitate to let me (us) know. _congratulation to a school or college graduate_ may your future be as successful as have been your school (college) days. heartiest congratulations upon your graduation. i am (we are) proud of your success. may the future grant you opportunity and the fulfillment of your hopes. i (we) hear that you have taken class honors. sincerest congratulations and best wishes. may your class day be favored with sunny skies and your life be full of happiness and success. sincerest congratulations upon your graduation. congratulations upon your school (college) success, so happily terminated to-day. i (we) regret that i (we) cannot be with you to-day to see you take your new honors. sincerest congratulations. _congratulation to a public man_ heartiest congratulations on your splendid success. we have just heard of your success. sincere congratulations and best wishes for the future. heartiest congratulations on your nomination (election). your nomination (election) testifies to the esteem in which you are held by your fellow citizens. heartiest congratulations. congratulations on your victory, a hard fight, well won by the best man. your splendid majority must be a great satisfaction to you. sincerest congratulations on your election. congratulations upon your nomination. you will have the support of the best element in the community and your election should be a foregone conclusion. i wish you every success. you fought a good fight in a good cause. heartiest congratulations on your splendid success. nothing in your career should fill you with greater satisfaction than your successful election. i congratulate you with all my heart. no man deserves success more than you. you have worked hard for your constituents and they appreciate it. heartiest congratulations. your nomination (election) is received with the greatest enthusiasm by your friends here and by none more than myself. heartiest congratulations. i congratulate you upon your new honors won by distinguished services to your fellow citizens. your campaign was vigorous and fine. your victory testifies to the people's confidence in you and your cause. warmest congratulations. congratulations upon your well-won victory and best wishes for your future success. you deserve your splendid success. sincerest congratulations. i cannot refrain from expressing my personal appreciation of your eloquent address. warmest congratulations. your address last night was splendid. what a gift you have. sincerest congratulations. heartiest congratulations on your splendid speech of last night. everybody is praising it. chapter xi the law of letters--contract letters there are forty-eight states in this union, and each of them has its own laws and courts. in addition we have the federal government with its own laws and courts. in one class of cases, the federal courts follow the state laws which govern the particular occasion; in another class of cases, notably in those involving the interpretation or application of the united states statutes, the federal courts follow federal law. there is not even a degree of uniformity governing the state laws, and especially is this true in criminal actions, for crimes are purely statutory creations. therefore it is extremely misleading to give any but the vaguest and most elementary suggestions on the law which governs letters. to be clear and specific means inevitably to be misleading. i was talking with a lawyer friend not long since about general text-books on law which might be useful to the layman. he was rather a commercially minded person and he spoke fervently: "if i wanted to build up a practice and i did not care how i did it, i should select one hundred well-to-do people and see that each of them got a copy of a compendium of business law. then i should sit back and wait for them to come in--and come in they would, for every mother's son of them would decide that he had a knowledge of the law and cheerfully go ahead getting himself into trouble." sharpen up a man's knowledge of the law and he is sure to cut himself. for the law is rarely absolute. most questions are of mixed fact and law. were it otherwise, there would be no occasion for juries, for, roughly, juries decide facts. the court decides the application of the law. the layman tends to think that laws are rules, when more often they are only guides. the cheapest and best way to decide points of law is to refer them to counsel for decision. unless a layman will take the time and the trouble most exhaustively to read works of law and gain something in the nature of a working legal knowledge, he had best take for granted that he knows nothing whatsoever of law and refer all legal matters to counsel. there are, however, a few principles of general application that may serve, not in the stead of legal knowledge, but to acquaint one with the fact that a legal question may be involved, for legal questions by no means always formally present themselves in barristers' gowns. they spring up casually and unexpectedly. take the whole question of contract. a contract is not of necessity a formal instrument. a contract is a meeting of minds. if i say to a man: "will you cut my lawn for ten dollars?" and he answers, "yes," as valid a contract is established as though we had gone to a scrivener and had covered a folio of parchment with "whereases" and "know all men by these presents" and "be it therefore" and had wound up with red seals and ribbons. but of course many legal questions could spring out of this oral agreement. we might dispute as to what was meant by cutting the lawn. and then, again, the time element would enter. was the agreement that the lawn should be cut the next day, or the next month, or the next year? contracts do not have to be in writing. all that the writing does is to make the proof of the exact contract easier. if we have the entirety of a contract within the four corners of a sheet of paper, then we need no further evidence as to the existence of the contract, although we may be in just as hopeless a mess trying to define what the words of the contract mean. if we have not a written contract, we have the bother of introducing oral evidence to show that there was a contract. most contracts nowadays are formed by the interchange of letters, and the general point to remember is that the acceptance must be in terms of the offer. if x writes saying: "i will sell you twenty tons of coal at fifteen dollars a ton," and y replies: "i will take thirty tons of coal at thirteen dollars a ton," there is no contract, but merely a series of offers. if, however, x ships the thirty tons of coal, he can hold y only at thirteen dollars a ton for he has abandoned his original offer and accepted y's offer. it can be taken as a general principle that if an offer be not accepted in its terms and a new condition be introduced, then the acceptance really becomes an offer, and if the one who made the original offer goes ahead, it can be assumed that he has agreed to the modifications of the unresponsive acceptance. if x writes to y making an offer, one of the conditions of which is that it must be accepted within ten days, and y accepts in fifteen days, then x can, if he likes, disregard the acceptance, but he can waive his ten-day time limit and take y's acceptance as a really binding agreement. another point, sometimes of considerable importance, concerns the time when a letter takes effect, and this is governed by the question of fact as to whom the post office department is acting for. if, in making an offer, i ask for a reply by mail or simply for a reply, i constitute the mail as my agent, and the acceptor of that offer will be presumed to have communicated with me at the moment when he consigns his letter to the mails. he must give the letter into proper custody--that is, it must go into the regular and authorized channels for the reception of mail. that done, it makes no difference whether or not the letter ever reaches the offerer. it has been delivered to his agent, and delivery to an agent is delivery to the principal. therefore, it is wise to specify in an offer that the acceptance has to be actually received. the law with respect to the agency of the mails varies and turns principally upon questions of fact. letters may, of course, be libelous. the law of libel varies widely among the several states, and there are also federal laws as well as postal regulations covering matters which are akin to libel. the answer to libel is truth, but not always, for sometimes the truth may be spread with so malicious an intent as to support an action. it is not well to put into a letter any derogatory or subversive statement that cannot be fully proved. this becomes of particular importance in answering inquiries concerning character or credit, but in practically every case libel is a question of fact. another point that arises concerns the property in a letter. does he who receives a letter acquire full property in it? may he publish it without permission? in general he does not acquire full property. mr. justice story, in a leading case, says: "the author of any letter or letters, and his representatives, whether they are literary letters or letters of business, possess the sole and exclusive copyright therein; and no person, neither those to whom they are addressed, nor other persons, have any right or authority to publish the same upon their own account or for their benefit." but then, again, there are exceptions. chapter xii the cost of a letter discovering the exact cost of a letter is by no means an easy affair. however, approximate figures may always be had and they are extremely useful. the cost of writing an ordinary letter is quite surprising. very few letters can be dictated, transcribed, and mailed at a cost of much less than twelve cents each. the factors which govern costs are variable and it is to be borne in mind that the methods for ascertaining costs as here given represent the least cost and not the real cost--they simply tell you "your letter costs at least this sum." they do not say "your letter costs exactly this sum." the cost of a form letter, mailed in quantities, can be gotten at with considerable accuracy. the cost of letters dictated by correspondents or by credit departments or other routine departments is also capable of approximation with fair accuracy, but the cost of a letter written by an executive can really hardly be more than guessed at. but in any case a "not-less-than" cost can be had. in recent years industrial engineers have done a great deal of work in ascertaining office costs and have devised many useful plans for lowering them. these plans mostly go to the saving of stenographers' time through suitable equipment, better arrangement of supplies, and specialization of duties. for instance, light, the kind or height of chair or desk, the tension of the typewriter, the location of the paper and carbon paper, all tend to make or break the efficiency of the typist and are cost factors. in offices where a great deal of routine mail is handled, the writing of the envelopes and the mailing is in the hands of a separate department of specialists with sealing and stamp affixing machines. the proper planning of a correspondence department is a science in itself, and several good books exist on the subject. but all of this has to do with the routine letter. when an executive drawing a high salary must write a letter, it is his time and not the time of the stenographer that counts. he cannot be kept waiting for a stenographer, and hence it is economy for him to have a personal secretary even if he does not write enough letters to keep a single machine busy through more than a fraction of a day. many busy men do not dictate letters at all; they have secretaries skilled in letter writing. in fact, a man whose salary exceeds thirty thousand dollars a year cannot afford to write a letter excepting on a very important subject. he will commonly have a secretary who can write the letter after only a word or two indicating the subject matter. part of the qualification of a good secretary is an ability to compose letters which are characteristic of the principal. take first the cost of a circular letter--one that is sent out in quantities without any effort to secure a personal effect. the items of cost are: ( ) the postage. ( ) the paper and printing. ( ) the cost of addressing, sealing, stamping, and mailing. the third item is the only one that offers any difficulty. included in it are first the direct labor--the wages of the human beings employed; and, second, the overhead expense. the second item includes the value of the space occupied by the letter force, the depreciation on the equipment, and finally the supervision and the executive expense properly chargeable to the department. unless an accurate cost system is in force the third item cannot be accurately calculated. the best that can be done is to take the salaries of the people actually employed on the work and guess at the proper charge for the space. the sum of the three items divided by the number of letters is the cost per letter. it is not an accurate cost. it will be low rather than high, for probably the full share of overhead expense will not be charged. it will be obvious, however, that the place to send out circular letters is not a room in a high-priced office building, unless the sending is an occasional rather than a steady practice. costs in this work are cut by better planning of the work and facilities, setting work standards, paying a bonus in excess of the standards, and by the introduction of automatic machinery. the post office now permits, under certain conditions, the use of a machine which prints a stamp that is really a frank. this is now being used very generally by concerns which have a heavy outgoing mail. then there are sealing machines, work conveyors, and numerous other mechanical and physical arrangements which operate to reduce the costs. they are useful, however, only if the output be very large indeed. the personally dictated letter has these costs: ( ) the postage. ( ) the stationery. ( ) the dictator's time--both in dictating and signing. ( ) the stenographer's time. ( ) the direct overhead expense, which includes the space occupied, the supervision, the executive overhead, and like items. the troublesome items here are numbers three and five. if the dictator is a correspondent then the calculation of how much it costs him to dictate a letter is his salary plus the overhead on the space that he occupies, divided by the number of letters that he writes in an average month. it takes him longer to write a long than a short letter, but routine letters will average fairly over a period of a month. but an executive who writes only letters that cannot be written by correspondents or lower salaried men commonly does so many other things in the course of a day that although his average time of dictation per letter may be ascertained and a cost gotten at, the figure will not be a true cost, for the dictation of an important letter comes only after a consideration of the subject matter which commonly takes much longer than the actual dictation. and then, again, the higher executive is usually an erratic letter writer--he may take two minutes or twenty minutes over an ordinary ten-line letter. some men read their letters very carefully after transcription. the cost of this must also be reckoned in. the cost of any letter is therefore a matter of the particular office. it will vary from six or seven cents for a letter made up of form paragraphs to three or four dollars for a letter written by a high-salaried president of a large corporation. a fair average cost for a personally dictated letter written on good paper is computed by one of the leading paper manufacturers, after a considerable survey to be: postage . printing letterheads and envelopes . stenographic wages ( letters per day, $ . per week) . office overhead . paper and envelopes . ------ $. the above does not include the expense of dictation. it will pay any man who writes a considerable number of letters to discover what his costs are--and then make his letters so effective that there will be fewer of them. chapter xiii stationery, crests and monograms social correspondence for all social correspondence use plain sheets of paper, without lines, of white or cream, or perhaps light gray or a very dull blue. but white or cream is the safest. select a good quality. either a smooth vellum finish or a rough linen finish is correct. for long letters there is the large sheet, about five by six and one half inches, or it may be even larger. there is a somewhat smaller size, about four and one half by five and one half or six inches for formal notes, and a still smaller size for a few words of congratulation or condolence. the social note must be arranged so as to be contained on the first page only. a man should not, for his social correspondence, use office or hotel stationery. his social stationery should be of a large size. envelopes may be either square or oblong. in the matter of perfumed stationery, if perfume is used at all, it must be very delicate. strong perfumes or perfumes of a pronounced type have a distinctly unpleasant effect on many people. it is better form to use none. [illustration: specimens of addressed social stationery] [illustration: specimens of addressed social stationery. (the first specimen is business stationery in social form)] an inviolable rule is to use black ink. the most approved forms of letter and notepaper (although the use of addressed paper is not at all obligatory and it is perfectly proper to use plain paper) have the address stamped in roman or gothic lettering at the top of the sheet in the centre or at the right-hand side about three quarters of an inch from the top. the color used may be black, white, dark blue, dark green, silver, or gold. country houses, where there are frequent visitors, have adopted the custom of placing the address at the upper right and the telephone, railroad station, and post office at the left. the address may also appear on the reverse flap of the envelope. crests and monograms are not used when the address is engraved at the top of a letter sheet. obviously the crowding of address and crest or monogram would not be conducive to good appearance in the letter. a monogram, originally a cipher consisting of a single letter, is a design of two or more letters intertwined. it is defined as a character of several letters in one, or made to appear as one. the letters may be all the letters of a name, or the initial letters of the christian and surnames. [illustration: the monograms in the best taste are the small round ones, but many pleasing designs may be had in the diamond, square, and oblong shape] [illustration: specimens of crested letter and notepaper] many of the early greek and roman coins bear the monograms of rulers or of the town in which they were struck. the middle ages saw the invention of all sorts of ciphers or monograms, artistic, commercial, and ecclesiastical. every great personage had his monogram. the merchants used them, the "merchant's mark" being the merchant's initials mingled with a private device and almost invariably a cross, as a protection against disaster or to distinguish their wares from those of mohammedan eastern traders. early printers used monograms, and they serve to identify early printed books. a famous monogram is the interlaced "h.d." of henry ii and diane de poitiers. it appeared lavishly upon every building which henry ii erected. it was also stamped on the bindings in the royal library, with the bow, the quiver, and the crescent of diana. monograms and crests on stationery, after a period of disuse, seem to be coming into favor again. the monograms in the best taste are the small round ones, though very pleasing designs may be had in the diamond, square, and oblong shapes. they should not be elaborate, and no brilliant colors should be used. the stamping is best done in black, white, dark green, dark blue, gold, or silver. the crest or monogram may be placed in the centre of the sheet or on the left-hand side about three quarters of an inch from the top. the address may be in the centre or at the right-hand side. but, as noted above, to use both addressed and monogrammed or crested paper is not good taste. the best stationery seems to run simply to addressed paper. crests and monograms should not be used on the envelope. in the matter of crests and heraldic emblems on stationery and announcements, many families with authentic crests discontinued their use during the war in an effort to reduce everything to the last word in simplicity. however, there are many who still use them. the best engravers will not design crests for families without the right to use them. but the extreme in "crests" is the crest which does not mean family at all, but is a device supposed to give an idea of the art or taste of the individual. for example, a quill or a scroll may be the basis for such a "crest." really no good reason exists why, in default of a family with a crest, one should not decide to be a crest founder. the only point is that the crest should not pretend to be something it is not--a hereditary affair. [illustration: specimens of monogrammed stationery] [illustration: specimens of business letterheads] on the use of crests in stationery one authority says: as to the important question of crests and heraldic emblems in our present-day stationery, these are being widely used, but no crests are made to order where the family itself has none. only such crests as definitely belong to the family are ever engraved on notepaper, cards, or any new style of place cards. several stationers maintain special departments where crests are looked up and authenticated and such families as are found in fairbairn's crests, burke's peerage, almanche de gotha, the armoire général, are utilized to help in the establishment of the armorial bearing of american families. of course, the college of heraldry is always available where the american family can trace its ancestors to great britain. many individuals use the coat-of-arms of their mothers, but according to heraldry they really have no right to do so. the woman to-day could use her father's and husband's crests together if the crests are properly in pale, that is, if a horizontal line be drawn to cut the shield in two--the husband's on the left, the father's on the right. if the son wants to use the father's and mother's crest, this must be quartered to conform to rule, the arms of the father to be in the first and fourth quarter; that of the mother in the second and third quarter. the daughter is not supposed to use a coat-of-arms except in lozenge form. the dinner card that reflects the most refined and modern type of usage is a card of visiting card size, with a coat-of-arms in gold and gilt border, on real parchment. these cards are hand-lettered and used as place cards for dinner parties. the use of sealing wax is optional, though a good rule to follow is not to use it unless it is necessary. the wax may be any dark color on white, cream, or light gray paper. black wax is used with mourning stationery. the best place to stamp a seal is the centre of the flap. it should not be done at all if it cannot be accomplished neatly. the crest or monogram should be quickly and firmly impressed into the hot wax. in selecting stationery it is a good plan to adhere to a single style, provided of course that a good choice of paper and stamping has been made. the style will become as characteristic of you as your handwriting. distinction can be had in quiet refinement of line and color. the use of the typewriter for social correspondence has some authority--though most of us will want to keep to the old custom of pen and ink. in case this should be employed for some good reason, the letter must be placed in the centre of the page with all four margins left wide. of course the signature to any typewritten letter must be in ink. business stationery for the usual type of business letter, a single large sheet of white paper, unruled, of the standard business size, - / x inches, is generally used. the standard envelopes are - / x - / inches and x - / , the former requiring three folds of the letter (one across and two lengthwise) and the latter requiring two folds (across). the former size, - / x - / , is much preferred. the latter is useful in the case of bulky enclosures. bond of a good quality is probably the best choice. colored papers, while attracting attention in a pile of miscellaneous correspondence, are not in the best taste. rather have the letter striking for its excellent typing and arrangement. department stores and firms that write a great many letters to women often employ a notepaper size sheet for these letters. on this much smaller sheet the elite type makes a better appearance with letters of this kind. [illustration: department stores and firms that write many letters to women often employ a notepaper size] [illustration: specimens of stationery used by men for personal business letters] the letterhead may be printed, engraved, or lithographed, and it is safest done in black. it should cover considerably less than a quarter of the page. it contains the name of the firm, the address, and the business. the addresses of branch houses, telephone numbers, cable addresses, names of officials, and other data may be included. but all flamboyant, colored advertisements, trade slogans, or advertising matter extending down the sides of the letter detract from the actual content of the letter, which it is presumed is the essential part of the letter. for personal business letters, that is, for letters not social but concerning personal affairs not directly connected with his business, a man often uses a letter sheet partaking more of the nature of social stationery than of business. this sheet is usually rather smaller than the standard business size and of heavier quality. the size and shape of these letter sheets are matters of personal preference-- x inches or x inches--sometimes even as large as the standard - / x or as small as - / x - / or x . the smaller size, however, requires the double sheet, and the engraving may be done on the fourth page instead of the first. the inside address in these letters is generally placed at the end of the letters instead of above the salutation. instead of a business letterhead the sheet may have an engraved name and home or business address without any further business connotations, or it may be simply an address line. the end file was produced from images from the mann library, cornell university.) _hand-books for home improvement--no. iii_ how to behave a pocket manual of republican etiquette, and guide to correct personal habits, embracing an exposition of the principles of good manners; useful hints on the care of the person, eating, drinking, exercise, habits, dress, self-culture, and behavior at home; the etiquette of salutations, introductions, receptions, visits, dinners, evening parties, conversation, letters, presents, weddings, funerals, the street, the church, places of amusement, traveling, etc., with illustrative anecdotes, a chapter on love and courtship, and rules of order for debating societies. [signature: samuel r. (roberts) wells] the air and manner which we neglect, as little things, are frequently what the world judges us by, and makes them decide for or against us.--_la bruyère._ order my steps in thy word.--_bible._ new york: fowler & wells co., publishers, broadway. . entered, according to act of congress in the year by fowler and wells in the clerk's office of the district court of the united states for the southern district of new york contents introduction politeness defined--the foundation of good manners--the civil code and the code of civility--the instinct of courtesy-- chesterfield's method--the golden rule--american politeness-- utility of good manners illustrated. page ix i.--personal habits. where to commence--care of the person a social duty--cleanliness-- the daily bath--soap and water--the feet--change of linen--the nails--the head--the teeth--the breath--eating and drinking--what to eat--when to eat--how much to eat--what to drink--breathing-- exercise--the complexion--tobacco--spitting--gin and gentility-- onions, etc.--little things ii.--dress. the meaning of dress--the uses of dress--fitness the first essential--the art of dress--the short dress for ladies-- working-dress for gentlemen--ornaments--materials for dress--mrs. manners on dress--the hair and beard--art _vs._ fashion--signs of the good time coming iii.--self-culture. moral and social training--cultivation of language--position and movement--the ease and grace of childhood--standing--sitting-- walking--hints to the ladies--self-command--observation--practical lesson iv.--fundamental principles. manners and morals--human rights--duties--the rights of the senses--the faculties and their claims--expression of opinions--the sacredness of privacy--conformity--singing out of tune--doing as the romans do--courtesy _vs._ etiquette--an anecdote--harmony--equality--a remark to be remembered--general principles more important than particular observances v.--domestic manners. a test of good manners--good behavior at home--american children--teaching children to be polite--behavior to parents--brothers and sisters--husband and wife--married lovers--entertaining guests--letting your guests alone--making one "at home"--making apologies--duties of guests--treatment of servants--rights of servants--"thank you" vi.--the observances of every-day life. introductions--letters of introduction--speaking without an introduction--salutations--receptions--visits and calls--table manners--conversations--chesterfield on conversation--music-- letters and notes--up and down stairs--which goes first?--an american habit--gloved or ungloved?--equality--false shame-- pulling out one's watch--husband and wife--bowing _vs._ curtseying--presents--snobbery--children vii.--etiquette of occasions. dinner parties--invitations--dress--punctuality--going to the table--arrangement of guests--duties of the host--duties of the guests--the "grace"--eating soup--fish--the third course--what to do with your knife and fork--declining wine--finger glasses-- carving--evening parties and their observances--french leave-- sports and games--promiscuous kissing--dancing--christmas--the new year--thanksgiving--birthdays--excursions and picnics-- weddings--funerals viii.--the etiquette of places. how to behave on the street--stopping business men on the street-- walking with ladies--shopping--at church--at places of amusement-- in a picture gallery--the presence--traveling--the rush for places--the rights of fellow-travelers--giving up seats to the ladies--a hint to the ladies on politeness--paying fares ix.--love and courtship. boyish loves--the proper age to marry--waiting for a fortune-- importance of understanding physiological laws--earnestness and sincerity in love--particular attentions--presents--confidants-- declarations--asking "pa"--refusals--engagement--breaking off-- marriage x.--parliamentary etiquette. courtesy in debate--origin of the parliamentary code--rules of order--motions--speaking--submitting a question--voting--a quorum the democratic principle--privileged questions--order of business--order of debate xi.--miscellaneous matters. republican distinctions--natural inequalities--american toad eaters--general lack of reverence for real nobility--city and country--imported manners--fictitious titles--a mirror for certain men--washington's code of manners--our social uniform--a hint to the ladies--an obliging disposition--securing a home--taste _vs._ fashion--special claims--propriety of deportment--false pride--awkwardness of being dressed xii.--maxims from chesterfield. cheerfulness and good humor--the art of pleasing--adaptation of manners--bad habits--do what you are about--people who never learn--local manners--how to confer favors--how to refuse-- spirit--civility to women xiii.--illustrative anecdotes. elder blunt and sister scrub taking off the hat, or john and his employer--a learned man at table--english women in high life-- "say so, if you please" preface. this is an honest and earnest little book, if it has no other merit; and has been prepared expressly for the use of the young people of our great republic, whom it is designed to aid in becoming, what we are convinced they all desire to be, true american ladies and gentlemen. desiring to make our readers something better than mere imitators of foreign manners, often based on social conditions radically different from our own--something better than imitators of _any_ manners, in fact, we have dwelt at greater length and with far more emphasis upon general principles, than upon special observances, though the latter have their place in our work. it has been our first object to impress upon their minds the fact, that good manners and good morals rest upon the same basis, and that justice and benevolence can no more be satisfied without the one than without the other. as in the other numbers of this series of hand-books, so in this, we have aimed at usefulness rather than originality; but our plan being radically different from that of most other manuals of etiquette, we have been able to avail ourself to only a very limited extent of the labors of others, except in the matter of mere conventional forms. sensible of the imperfections of our work, but hoping that it will do some acceptable service in the cause of good manners, and aid, in a humble way, in the building up of a truly american and republican school of politeness, we now submit it, with great deference, to a discerning public. introduction. some one has defined politeness as "only an elegant form of justice;" but it is something more. it is the result of the combined action of all the moral and social feelings, guided by judgment and refined by taste. it requires the exercise of benevolence, veneration (in its human aspect), adhesiveness, and ideality, as well as of conscientiousness. it is the spontaneous recognition of human solidarity--the flowering of philanthropy--the fine art of the social passions. it is to the heart what music is to the ear, and painting and sculpture to the eye. one can not commit a greater mistake than to make politeness a mere matter of arbitrary forms. it has as real and permanent a foundation in the nature and relations of men and women, as have government and the common law. the civil code is not more binding upon us than is the code of civility. portions of the former become, from time to time, inoperative--mere dead letters on the statute-book, on account of the conditions on which they were founded ceasing to exist; and many of the enactments of the latter lose their significance and binding force from the same cause. many of the forms now in vogue, in what is called fashionable society, are of this character. under the circumstances which called them into existence they were appropriate and beautiful; under changed circumstances they are simply absurd. there are other forms of observances over which time and place have no influence--which are always and everywhere binding. politeness itself is always the same. the rules of etiquette, which are merely the forms in which it finds expression, vary with time and place. a sincere regard for the rights of others, in the smallest matters as well as the largest, genuine kindness of heart; good taste, and self-command, which are the foundations of good manners, are never out of fashion; and a person who possesses them can hardly be rude or discourteous, however far he may transgress conventional usages: lacking these qualities, the most perfect knowledge of the rules of etiquette and the strictest observance of them will not suffice to make one truly polite. "politeness," says la bruyère, "seems to be a certain care, by the manner of our words and actions, to make others pleased with us and themselves." this definition refers the matter directly to those qualities of mind and heart already enumerated as the foundations of good manners. to the same effect is the remark of madame celnart, that "the grand secret of never-failing propriety of deportment is _to have an intention of always doing right_." some persons have the "instinct of courtesy" so largely developed that they seem hardly to need culture at all. they are equal to any occasion, however novel. they never commit blunders, or if they do commit them, they seem not to be blunders in them. so there are those who sing, speak, or draw intuitively--by inspiration. the great majority of us, however, must be content to acquire these arts by study and practice. in the same way we must acquire the art of behavior, so far as behavior is an art. we must possess, in the first place, a sense of equity, good-will toward our fellow-men, kind feelings, magnanimity and self-control. cultivation will do the rest. but we most never forget that manners as well as morals are founded on certain eternal principles, and that while "the _letter_ killeth," "the _spirit_ giveth _life_." the account which lord chesterfield gives of the method by which he acquired the reputation of being the most polished man in england, is a strong example of the efficacy of practice, in view of which no one need despair. he was naturally singularly deficient in that grace which afterward so distinguished him. "i had a strong desire," he says, "to please, and was sensible that i had nothing but the desire. i therefore resolved, if possible, to acquire the means too. i studied attentively and minutely the dress, the air, the manner, the address, and the turn of conversation of all those whom i found to be the people in fashion, and most generally allowed to please. i imitated them as well as i could: if i heard that one man was reckoned remarkably genteel, i carefully watched his dress, motions, and attitudes, and formed my own upon them. when i heard of another whose conversation was agreeable and engaging i listened and attended to the turn of it. i addressed myself, though _de très mauvaise grâce_ [with a very bad grace], to all the most fashionable fine ladies; confessed and laughed with them at my own awkwardness and rawness, recommending myself as an object for them to try their skill in forming." lord bacon says: "to attain good manners it almost sufficeth not to despise them, and that if a man labor too much to express them, he shall lose their grace, which is to be natural and unaffected." to these testimonies we may add the observation of la rochefoucauld, that "in manners there are no good copies, for besides that the copy is almost always clumsy or exaggerated, the air which is suited to one person sits ill upon another." the greater must have been the genius of chesterfield which enabled him to make the graces of others his own, appropriating them only so far as they _fitted him_, instead of blindly and servilely imitating his models. c. p. bronson truly says: "in politeness, as in every thing else connected with the formation of character, we are too apt to begin on the outside, instead of the inside; instead of beginning with the heart, and trusting to that to form the manners, many begin with the manners, and leave the heart to chance and influences. the golden rule contains the very life and soul of politeness: 'do unto others as you would they should do unto you.' unless children and youth are taught, by precept and example, to abhor what is selfish, and prefer another's pleasure and comfort to their own, their politeness will be entirely artificial, and used only when interest and policy dictate. true politeness is perfect freedom and ease, treating others just as you love to be treated. nature is always graceful: affectation, with all her art, can never produce any thing half so pleasing. the very perfection of elegance is to imitate nature; how much better to have the reality than the imitation! anxiety about the opinions of others fetters the freedom of nature and tends to awkwardness; all would appear well if they never tried to assume what they do not possess." a writer in _life illustrated_, to whose excellent observations on etiquette we shall have further occasion to refer, contends that the instinct of courtesy is peculiarly strong in the american people. "it is shown," he says, "in the civility which marks our intercourse with one another. it is shown in the deference which is universally paid to the presence of the gentler sex. it is shown in the excessive fear which prevails among us of offending public opinion. it is shown in the very extravagances of our costume and decoration, in our lavish expenditures upon house and equipage. it is shown in the avidity with which every new work is bought and read which pretends to lay down the laws that govern the behavior of circles supposed to be, _par excellence_, polite. it is shown in the fact, that, next to calling a man a liar, the most offensive and stinging of all possible expressions is, 'you are no gentleman!'" he claims that this is a national trait, and expresses the belief that every uncorrupt american man desires to be, and to be thought, a gentleman; that every uncorrupt american woman desires to be, and to be thought, a lady. "but," he adds, "the instinct of courtesy is not enough, nor is opportunity equivalent to possession. the truth is palpable, that our men are not all gentlemen, nor our women all ladies, nor our children all docile and obliging. in that small and insignificant circle which is called 'society,' which, small and insignificant as it is, gives the tone to the manners of the nation, the chief efforts seem to be, to cleanse the outside of the platter, to conceal defects by gloss and glitter. its theory of politeness and its maxims of behavior are drawn from a state of things so different from that which here prevails, that they produce in us little besides an exaggerated ungracefulness, a painful constraint, a complete artificiality of conduct and character. we are trying to shine in borrowed plumes. we would glisten with foreign varnish. to produce an _effect_ is our endeavor. we prefer to _act_, rather than _live_. the politeness which is based on sincerity, good-will, self-conquest, and a minute, habitual regard for the rights of others, is not, we fear, the politeness which finds favor in the saloons upon which the upholsterer has exhausted the resources of his craft. yet without possessing, in a certain degree, the qualities we have named, no man ever did, and no man ever will, become a gentleman. where they do not bear sway, society may be brilliant in garniture, high in pretension, but it is intrinsically and incurably _vulgar_!" the utility of good manners is universally acknowledged perhaps, but the extent to which genuine courtesy may be made to contribute to our success as well as our happiness is hardly realized. we can not more satisfactorily illustrate this point than by quoting the following lesson of experience from the autobiography of the late dr. caldwell, the celebrated physician and phrenologist: "in the year i made, in london, in a spirit of wager, a decisive and satisfactory experiment as to the effect of civil and courteous manners on people of various ranks and descriptions. "there were in a place a number of young americans, who often complained to me of the neglect and rudeness experienced by them from citizens to whom they spoke in the streets. they asserted, in particular, that as often as they requested directions to any point in the city toward which they were proceeding, they either received an uncivil and evasive answer, or none at all. i told them that my experience on the same subject had been exceedingly different: that i had never failed to receive a civil reply to my questions--often communicating the information requested: and that i could not help suspecting that their failure to receive similar answers arose, in part at least, if not entirely, to the plainness, not to say the bluntness, of their manner in making their inquiries. the correctness of this charge, however, they sturdily denied, asserting that their manner of asking for information was good enough for those to whom they addressed themselves. unable to convince them by words of the truth of my suspicions, i proposed to them the following simple and conclusive experiment: "'let us take together a walk of two or three hours in some of the public streets of the city. you shall yourselves designate the persons to whom i shall propose questions, and the subjects also to which the question shall relate; and the only restriction imposed is, that no question shall be proposed to any one who shall appear to be greatly hurried, agitated, distressed, or any other way deeply preoccupied, in mind or body, and no one shall speak to the person questioned but myself.' "my proposition being accepted, out we sallied, and to work we went; and i continued my experiment until my young friends surrendered at discretion, frankly acknowledging that my opinion was right, and theirs, of course was wrong; and that, in our passage through life, courtesy of address and deportment may be made both a pleasant and powerful means to attain our ends and gratify our wishes. "i put questions to more than twenty persons of every rank, from the high-bred gentleman to the servant in livery, and received in every instance a satisfactory reply. if the information asked for was not imparted, the individual addressed gave an assurance of his at being unable to communicate it. "what seemed to surprise my friends was, that the individuals accosted by me almost uniformly imitated my own manner. if i uncovered my head, as i did in speaking to a gentleman, or even to a man of ordinary appearance and breeding, he did the same in his reply; and when i touched my hat to a liveried coachman or waiting man, his hat was immediately under his arm. so much may be done, and such advantages gained, by simply avoiding coarseness and vulgarity, and being well bred and agreeable. nor can the case be otherwise. for the foundation of good breeding is good nature and good sense--two of the most useful and indispensable attributes of a well-constituted mind. let it not be forgotten, however, that good breeding is not to be regarded as identical with politeness--a mistake which is too frequently, if not generally, committed. a person may be exceedingly polite without the much higher and more valuable accomplishment of good breeding." believing that the natural qualities essential to the character of the gentleman or the lady exist in a high degree among our countrymen and countrywomen, and that they universally desire to develop these qualities, and to add to them the necessary knowledge of all the truly significant and living forms and usages of good society, we have written the work now before you. we have not the vanity to believe that the mere reading of it will, of itself, convert an essentially vulgar person into a lady or a gentleman; but we do hope that we have furnished those who most need it with available and efficient aid; and in this hope we dedicate this little "manual of republican etiquette" to all who are, or would be, in the highest sense of these terms, true republican ladies or gentlemen how to behave. i. personal habits. attention to the person is the first necessity of good manners.--_anon._ i.--where to commence. if you wish to commence aright the study of manners, you must make your own person the first lesson. if you neglect this you will apply yourself to those which follow with very little profit. omit, therefore, any other chapter in the book rather than this. the proper care and adornment of the person is a social as well as an individual duty. you have a right to go about with unwashed hands and face, and to wear soiled and untidy garments, perhaps, but you have no right to offend the senses of others by displaying such hands, face, and garments in society. other people have rights as well as yourself, and no right of yours can extend so far as to infringe theirs. but we may safely assume that no reader of these pages wishes to render himself disgusting or even disagreeable or to cut himself off from the society of his fellow-men. we address those who seek social intercourse and desire to please. _they_ will not think our words amiss, even though they may seem rather "personal;" since we have their highest good in view, and speak in the most friendly spirit. those who do not need our hints and suggestions under this head, and to whom none of our remarks may apply, will certainly have the courtesy to excuse them for the sake of those to whom they will be useful. ii.--cleanliness. "cleanliness is akin to godliness," it is said. it is not less closely related to gentility. first of all, then, keep yourself scrupulously clean--not your hands and face merely, but your whole person, from the crown of your head to the sole of your foot. silk stockings may hide dirty feet and ankles from the eye, but they often reveal themselves to another sense, when the possessor little dreams of such an exposure. it is far better to dress coarsely and out of fashion and be strictly clean, than to cover a dirty skin with the finest and richest clothing. a coarse shirt or a calico dress is not necessarily vulgar, but dirt is essentially so. we do not here refer, of course, to one's condition while engaged in his or her industrial occupation. soiled hands and even a begrimed face are badges of honor in the field, the workshop, or the kitchen, but in a country in which soap and water abound, there is no excuse for carrying them into the parlor or the dining-room. a clean skin is as essential to health, beauty, and personal comfort as it is to decency; and without health and that perfect freedom from physical disquiet which comes only from the normal action of all the functions of the bodily organs, your behavior can never be satisfactory to yourself or agreeable to others. let us urge you, then, to give this matter your first attention. . _the daily bath._ to keep clean you must bathe frequently. in the first place you should wash the whole body with pure soft water every morning on rising from your bed, rubbing it till dry with a coarse towel, and afterward using friction with the hands. if you have not been at all accustomed to cold bathing, commence with tepid water, lowering the temperature by degrees till that which is perfectly cold becomes agreeable. in warm weather, comfort and cleanliness alike require still more frequent bathing. mohammed made frequent ablutions a religious duty; and in that he was right. the rank and fetid odors which exhale from a foul skin can hardly be neutralized by the sweetest incense of devotion. . _soap and water._ but the daily bath of which we have spoken is not sufficient. in addition to the pores from which exudes the watery fluid called perspiration, the skin is furnished with innumerable minute openings, known as the sebaceous follicles, which pour over its surface a thin limpid oil anointing it and rendering it soft and supple; but also causing the dust as well as the effete matter thrown out by the pores to adhere, and, if allowed to accumulate, finally obstructing its functions and causing disease. it also, especially in warm weather, emits an exceedingly disagreeable odor. pure cold water will not wholly remove these oily accumulations. the occasional use of soap and warm or tepid water is therefore necessary; but all washings with soapy or warm water should be followed by a thorough rinsing with pure cold water. use good, fine soap. the common coarser kinds are generally too strongly alkaline and have an unpleasant effect upon the skin. . _the feet._ the feet are particularly liable to become offensively odoriferous, especially when the perspiration is profuse. frequent washings with cold water, with the occasional use of warm water and soap, are absolutely necessary to cleanliness. . _change of linen._ a frequent change of linen is another essential of cleanliness. it avails little to wash the body if we inclose it the next minute in soiled garments. it is not in the power of every one to wear fine and elegant clothes, but we can all, under ordinary circumstances, afford clean shirts, drawers, and stockings. never sleep in any garment worn during the day; and your night-dress should be well aired every morning. . _the nails._ you will not, of course, go into company, or sit down to the table, with soiled hands, but unless you habituate yourself to a special care of them, more or less dirt will be found lodged under the nails. clean them carefully every time you wash your hands, and keep them smoothly and evenly cut. if you allow them to get too long they are liable to be broken off, and become uneven and ragged, and if you pare them too closely they fail to protect the ends of the fingers. . _the head._ the head is more neglected, perhaps, than any other part of the body. the results are not less disastrous here than elsewhere. dandruff forms, dust accumulates, the scalp becomes diseased, the hair grows dry, and falls off and if the evil be not remedied, premature baldness ensues. the head should be thoroughly washed as often as cleanliness demands. this will not injure the hair, as many suppose, but, on the contrary, will promote its growth and add to its beauty. if soap is used, however, it should be carefully rinsed off. if the hair is carefully and _thoroughly_ brushed every morning, it will not require very frequent washings. if the scalp be kept in a healthy condition the hair will be moist, glossy, and luxuriant, and no oil or hair wash will be required; and these preparations generally do more harm than good. night-caps are most unwholesome and uncleanly contrivances, and should be discarded altogether. they keep the head unnaturally warm, shut out the fresh air, and shut in those natural exhalations which should be allowed to pass off, and thus weaken the hair and render it more liable to fall off. ladies may keep their hair properly together during repose by wearing a _net_ over it. . _the teeth._ do not forget the teeth. cleanliness, health, a pure breath, and the integrity and durability of those organs require that they be thoroughly and effectually scoured with the tooth-brush dipped in soft water, with the addition of a little soap, if necessary, every morning. brush them outside and inside, and in every possible direction. you can not be too careful in this matter. after brushing rinse your mouth with cold water. a slighter brushing should be given them after each meal. use an ivory tooth-pick or a quill to remove any particles of food that may be lodged between the teeth. there are, no doubt, original differences in teeth, as in other parts of the human system, some being more liable to decay than others; but the simple means we have pointed out, if adopted in season and perseveringly applied, will preserve almost any teeth, in all their usefulness and reality, till old age. if yours have been neglected, and some of them are already decayed, hasten to preserve the remainder. while you have _any_ teeth left, it is never too late to begin to take care of them; and if you have children, do not, we entreat you, neglect _their_ teeth. if the first or temporary teeth are cared for and preserved, they will be mainly absorbed by the second or permanent ones, and will drop out of themselves. the others, in that case, will come out regular and even. beware of the teeth-powders, teeth-washes, and the like, advertised in the papers. they are often even more destructive to the teeth than the substances they are intended to remove. if any teeth-powder is required, pure powdered charcoal is the best thing you can procure; but if the teeth are kept clean, in the way we have directed, there will be little occasion for any other dentrifices than pure water and a little soap. your tooth-brushes should be rather soft; those which are too hard injuring both the teeth and the gums. . _the breath._ a bad breath arises more frequently than otherwise from neglected and decayed teeth. if it is occasioned by a foul stomach, a pure diet, bathing, water injections, and a general attention to the laws of health are required for its removal. iii.--eating and drinking. whatever has a bearing upon health has at least an indirect connection with manners; the reader will therefore excuse us for introducing here a few remarks which may seem, at the first glance, rather irrelevant. sound lungs, a healthy liver, and a good digestion are as essential to the right performance of our social duties as they are to our own personal comfort; therefore a few words on eating and drinking, as affecting these, will not be out of place. . _what to eat._ an unperverted appetite is the highest authority in matters of diet. in fact, its decisions should be considered final, and without the privilege of appeal. nature makes no mistakes. the plant selects from the soil which its roots permeate, the chemical elements necessary to its growth and perfect development, rejecting with unerring certainty every particle which would prove harmful or useless. the wild animal chooses with equal certainty the various kinds of food adapted to the wants of its nature, never poisoning itself by eating or drinking any thing inimical to its life and health. the sense of taste and the wants of the system act in perfect harmony. so it should be with man. that which most perfectly gratifies the appetite should be the best adapted to promote health, strength, and beauty. but appetite, like all the other instincts or feelings of our nature, is liable to become perverted, and to lead us astray. we acquire a relish for substances which are highly hurtful, such as tobacco, ardent spirits, malt liquors, and the like. we have "sought out many inventions," to pander to false and fatal tastes, and too often eat, not to sustain life and promote the harmonious development of the system, but to poison the very fountains of our being and implant in our blood the seeds of disease. attend to the demands of appetite, but use all your judgment in determining whether it is a natural, undepraved craving of the system which speaks, or an acquired and vicious taste, and give or withhold accordingly; and, above all, never eat when you have _no appetite_. want of appetite is equivalent to the most authoritative command to _eat nothing_, and we disregard it at our peril. food, no matter how wholesome, taken into our stomachs under such circumstances, instead of being digested and appropriated, becomes rank poison. _eating without appetite is one of the most fatal of common errors._ we have no room, even if we had the ability and the desire, to discuss the comparative merits of the two opposing systems of diet--the vegetarian and the mixed. we shall consider the question of flesh-eating an open one. your food should be adapted to the climate, season, and your occupation. in the winter and in northern climates a larger proportion of the fatty or carboniferous elements are required than in summer and in southern latitudes. the esquimaux, in his snow-built hut, swallows immense quantities of train-oil, without getting the dyspepsia; still, we do not recommend train-oil as an article of diet; neither can we indorse the eating of pork in any form; but these things are far less hurtful in winter than in summer, and to those who labor in the open air than to the sedentary. live well. a generous diet promotes vitality and capability for action. "good cheer is friendly to health." but do not confound a generous diet with what is usually called "rich" food. let all your dishes be nutritious, but plain, simple, and wholesome. avoid highly seasoned viands and very greasy food at all times, but particularly in warm weather, also too much nutriment in the highly condensed forms of sugar, syrup, honey, and the like. if you eat flesh, partake sparingly of it especially in summer. we americans are the greatest flesh-eaters in the world, and it is not unreasonable to believe that there may be some connection between this fact and the equally notorious one that we are the most unhealthy people in the world. an untold amount of disease results from the too free use of flesh during the hot months. heat promotes putrefaction; and as this change in meat is very rapid in warm weather, we can not be too careful not to eat that which is in the slightest degree tainted. even when it goes into the stomach in a normal condition, there is danger; for if too much is eaten, or the digestive organs are not sufficiently strong and active, the process of putrefaction may commence in the stomach and diffuse a subtle poison through the whole system. _hot_ biscuits; _hot_ griddle cakes, saturated with butter and stuart's syrup; and _hot_ coffee, scarcely modified at all by the small quantity of milk usually added, are among the most deleterious articles ever put upon a table. while these continue to be the staples of our breakfasts, healthy stomachs and clear complexions will be rare among us. never eat or drink _any thing_ hot. good bread is an unexceptionable article of diet. the best is made of unbolted wheat flour. a mixture of wheat and rye flour, or of corn meal with either, makes excellent bread. the meal and flour should be freshly ground; they deteriorate by being kept long. if raised or fermented bread is required, hop yeast is the best ferment that can be used. [for complete directions for bread-making, see dr. trall's "hydropathic cook-book."] the exclusive use of fine or bolted flour for bread, biscuits, and cakes of all kinds, is exceedingly injurious to health. the _lignin_ or woody fiber which forms the bran of grains is just as essential to a perfect and healthful nutrition as are starch, sugar, gum, and fibrin, and the rejection of this element is one of the most mischievous errors of modern cookery. johnny-cake, or corn bread, is an excellent article, which is not yet fully appreciated. it is palatable and wholesome. hominy, samp, cracked wheat, oatmeal mush, and boiled rice should have a high place on your list of edibles. beans and peas should be more generally eaten than they are. they are exceedingly nutritious, and very palatable. in new england, "pork and beans" hold the place of honor, but elsewhere in this country they are almost unknown. leaving out the pork (which, personally, we hold in more than jewish abhorrence), nothing can be better, provided they are eaten in moderation and with a proper proportion of less nutritious food. they should be well baked in pure, soft water. a sufficient quantity of salt to season them, with the addition of a little sweet milk, cream, or butter while baking, leaves nothing to be desired. if meat is wanted, however, a slice of beefsteak, laid upon the surface, will serve a better purpose than pork. potatoes, beets, turnips, carrots, parsneps, and cabbages are good in their place. but nature indicates very plainly that fruits and berries, in their season, should have a prominent place in our dietary. they are produced in abundance, and every healthy stomach instinctively craves them. strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, whortleberries, cherries, plums, grapes, figs, apples, pears, peaches, and melons are "food fit for gods." we pity those whose perverted taste or digestion leads to their rejection. but some are _afraid_ to eat fruits and berries, particularly in midsummer, just the time when nature and common sense say they should be eaten most freely. they have the fear of cholera, dysentery, and similar diseases before their eyes, and have adopted the popular but absurd idea that fruit eating predisposes to disorders of the stomach and bowels. exactly the reverse is the fact. there are no better preventives of such diseases than _ripe_ fruits and berries, eaten in proper quantities and at proper times unripe fruits should be scrupulously avoided, and that which is in any measure decayed as scarcely less objectionable. fruit and berries should make a part of every meal in summer. in winter they are less necessary, but may be eaten with advantage, if within our reach; and they are easily preserved in various ways. we might write a volume on the subject of food, but these general hints must suffice. if you would pursue the inquiry, read o. s. fowler's "physiology, animal and mental," and the "hydropathic cook-book," already referred to. . _when to eat._ eat when the stomach, through the instinct of appetite, demands a new supply of food. if all your habits are regular, this will be at about the same hours each day; and regularity in the time of taking our meals is very important. want of attention to this point is a frequent cause of derangement of the digestive organs. we can not stop to discuss the question how many meals per day we should eat; but whether you eat one, two, or three, never, under ordinary circumstances, take lunches. the habit of eating between meals is a most pernicious one. not even your children must be indulged in it, as you value their health, comfort, and good behavior. . _how much to eat._ we can not tell you, by weight or measure, how much to eat, the right quantity depending much upon age, sex, occupation, season, and climate, but the quantity is quite as important as the quality. appetite would be a sure guide in both respects were it not so often perverted and diseased. as a general rule, we eat too much. it is better to err in the other direction. an uncomfortable feeling of fullness, or of dullness and stupor after a meal is a sure sign of over-eating, so whatever and whenever you eat, _eat slowly, masticate your food well_, and do not eat too much. . _drink._ if we eat proper food, and in proper quantity, we are seldom thirsty. inordinate thirst indicates a feverish state of either the stomach or the general system. it is pretty sure to follow a too hearty meal. water is the proper drink for everybody and for every thing that lives or grows. it should be pure and soft. many diseases arise wholly from the use of unwholesome water. if you drink tea (which we do not recommend), let it be the best of black tea, and _not_ strong. coffee, if drunk at all, should be diluted with twice its quantity of boiled milk, and well sweetened with white sugar. iv.--breathing. breathing is as necessary as eating. if we cease to breathe, our bodies cease to live. if we only _half_ breathe, as is often the case, we only half live. the human system requires a constant supply of oxygen to keep up the vital processes which closely resemble combustion, of which oxygen is the prime supporter. if the supply is insufficient, the fire of life wanes. the healthy condition of the lungs also requires that they be completely expanded by the air inhaled. the imperfect breathing of many persons fails to accomplish the required inflation, and the lungs become diseased for want of their natural action. full, deep breathing and pure air are as essential to health, happiness, and the right performance of our duties, whether individual, political, or social, as pure food and temperate habits of eating and drinking are. attend, then, to the lungs as well as the stomach. breathe good air. have all your rooms, and especially your sleeping apartment well ventilated. the air which has been vitiated by breathing or by the action of fire, which abstracts the oxygen and supplies its place with carbonic acid gas, is a _subtle poison_. v.--exercise. the amount of physical exercise required varies with age, sex, and temperament; but no person can enjoy vigorous health without a considerable degree of active bodily exertion. four or five hours per day spent in the open air, in some labor or amusement which calls for the exercise of the muscles of the body, is probably no more than a proper average. we can live with less--that is, for a short time; but nature's laws are inexorable, and we can not escape the penalty affixed to their violation. those whose occupations are sedentary should seek amusements which require the exertion of the physical powers, and should spend as much as possible of their leisure time in the open air. we must, however, use good judgment in this matter as well as in eating. too much exercise at once, or that which is fitful and violent, is often exceedingly injurious to those whose occupations have accustomed them to little physical exertion of any kind. the women of our country are suffering incalculably for want of proper exercise. no other single cause perhaps is doing so much to destroy health and beauty, and deteriorate the race, as this. "your women are very handsome," frederika bremer said, one day, "but they are too white; they look as if they grew in the shade." a sad truth. ladies, if you would be healthy, beautiful, and attractive--if you would fit yourselves to be good wives, and the mothers of strong and noble men, you _must_ take an adequate amount of exercise in the open air. _this should be an every-day duty._ vi.--the complexion. every person, and especially every lady, desires a clear complexion. to secure this, follow the foregoing directions in reference to cleanliness, eating, drinking, breathing, and exercise. the same recipe serves for ruby lips and rosy cheeks. these come and go with health, and health depends upon obedience to the laws of our constitution. vii.--general hints. few of us are free from disagreeable habits of which we are hardly conscious, so seemingly natural have they become to us. it is the office of friendship, though not always a pleasant one, to point them out. it is our business to assume that office here, finding our excuse in the necessity of the case. our bad habits not only injure ourselves, but they give offense to others, and indirectly injure them also. . _tobacco._ ladies, in this country, do not use tobacco, so they may skip this section. a large and increasing number of gentlemen may do the same; but if you use tobacco, in any forth, allow us to whisper a useful hint or two in your ear. smoking, snuff-taking, and especially chewing, are bad habits at best, and in their coarser forms highly disgusting to pure and refined people, and especially to ladies. you have the same right to smoke, take snuff, and chew that you have to indulge in the luxuries of a filthy skin and soiled garments, but you have no right, in either case, to do violence to the senses and sensibilities of other people by their exhibition in society. smoke if you will, chew, take snuff (against our earnest advice, however), make yourself generally and particularly disagreeable, but you must suffer the consequences--the social outlawry which must result. shall we convert our parlors into tobacco shops, risk the ruin of our carpets and furniture from the random shots of your disgusting saliva, and fill the whole atmosphere of our house with a pungent stench, to the discomfort and disgust of everybody else, merely for the pleasure of your company? we have rights as well as you, one of which is to exclude from our circle all persons whose manners or habits are distasteful to us. you talk of rights. you can not blame others for exercising theirs. there are degrees here as everywhere else. one may chew a _little_, smoke an _occasional_ cigar, and take a pinch of snuff _now_ and _then_, and if he never indulges in these habits in the presence of others, and is very careful to purify his person before going into company, he may confine the bad effects, which he can not escape, _mostly_ to his own person. but he must not smoke in any parlor, or sitting-room, or dining-room, or sleeping chamber, or in the street, and particularly not in the presence of ladies, _anywhere_. . _spitting._ "the use of tobacco has made us a nation of spitters," as some one has truly remarked. spitting is a private act, and tobacco users are not alone in violating good taste and good manners by hawking and spitting in company. you should never be seen to spit. use your handkerchief carefully and so as not to be noticed, or, in case of necessity, leave the room. . _gin and gentility._ the spirit and tenor of our remarks on tobacco will apply to the use of ardent spirits. the fumes of gin, whisky, and rum are, if possible, worse than the scent of tobacco. they must on no account be brought into company. if a man (this is another section which women may skip) will make a beast of himself, and fill his blood with liquid poison, he must, if he desires admission into good company, do it either privately or with companions whose senses and appetites are as depraved as his own. . _onions, etc._ all foods or drinks which taint the breath or cause disagreeable eructations should be avoided by persons going into company. onions emit so very disagreeable an odor that no truly polite person will eat them when liable to inflict their fumes upon others. particular care should be taken to guard against a bad breath from _any_ cause. . _several items._ never pare or scrape your nails, pick your teeth, comb your hair, or perform any of the necessary operations of the toilet in company. all these things should be carefully attended to in the privacy of your own room. to pick the nose, dig the ears, or scratch the head or any part of the person in company is still worse. watch yourself carefully, and if you have any such habits, break them up at once. these may seem little things, but they have their weight, and go far in determining the character of the impression we make upon those around us. ii. dress. from little matters let us pass to less, and lightly touch the mysteries of dress; the outward forms the inner man reveal; we guess the pulp before we eat the peel.--_o. w. holmes._ i.--the language of dress. dress has its language, which is, or may be, read and understood by all. it is one of the forms in which we naturally give expression to our tastes, our constructive faculties, our reason, our feelings, our habits--in a word, to our character, as a whole. this expression is often greatly modified by the arbitrary laws of fashion, and by circumstances of time, place, and condition, which we can not wholly control; but can hardly be entirely falsified. even that arch tyrant, the reigning _mode_, whatever it may be, leaves us little room for choice in materials, forms, and colors, and the choice we make indicates our prominent traits of character. ii.--the uses of dress. "dress," that admirable art journal the _crayon_ says, "has two functions--to clothe and to ornament; and while we can not lose sight of either point, we must not attribute to the one a power which belongs to the other. the essential requirement of dress is to cover and make comfortable the body, and of two forms of dress which fulfill this function equally well, that is the better which is most accordant with the laws of beauty. but fitness must in nowise be interfered with; and the garb which infringes on this law gives us pain rather than pleasure. we believe that it will be found that fitness and beauty, so far from requiring any sacrifice for combination, are found each in the highest degree where both are most fully obtained--that the fittest, most comfortable dress is that which is most graceful or becoming. fitness is the primary demand; and _the dress that appears uncomfortable is untasteful_. "but in the secondary function of dress, ornamentation, there are several diverse objects to be attained--dignity, grace, vivacity, brilliancy, are qualities distinguishing different individuals, and indicating the impression they wish to make on society, and are expressed by different combinations of the elements of beauty, line, or form, and color. when the appareling of the outer being is in most complete harmony with the mental constitution, the taste is fullest." iii.--the art of dress. true art adapts dress to its uses, as indicated in the foregoing extract. it is based on universal principles fundamental to all art. the art-writer already quoted says, very truly, that "dress is always to be considered as secondary to the person." this is a fundamental maxim in the art of costume, but is often lost sight of, and dress made _obtrusive_ at the expense of the individuality of the wearer. a man's vest or cravat must not seem a too important part of him. dress may heighten beauty, but it can not create it. if you are not better and more beautiful than your clothes you are, indeed, a man or a woman of straw. the next principle to be regarded is the _fitness_ of your costume, in its forms materials, and colors, to your person and circumstances, and to the conditions of the time, place and occasion on which it is to be worn. fashion often compels us to violate this principle, and dress in the most absurd, incongruous, unbecoming, and uncomfortable style. a little more self-respect and independence, however, would enable us to resist many of her most preposterous enactments. but fashion is not responsible for all the incongruities in dress with which we meet. they are often the result of bad taste and affectation. the first demand of this law of fitness is, that your costume shall accord with your person. the young and the old, we all instinctively know, should not dress alike. neither should the tall and the short, the dark and the light, the pale and the rosy, the grave and the gay, the tranquil and the vivacious. each variety of form, color, and character has its appropriate style; but our space here is too limited to allow us to do more than drop a hint toward what each requires, to produce the most harmonious and effective combination. in another work,[a] now in the course of preparation, this important subject will be treated in detail. "in form, simplicity and long, unbroken lines give dignity, while complicated and short lines express vivacity. curves, particularly if long and sweeping, give grace while straight lines and angles indicate power and strength. in color, unity of tint gives repose--if somber, gravity but if light and clear, then a joyous serenity--variety of tint giving vivacity, and if contrasted, brilliancy." longitudinal stripes in a lady's dress make her appear taller than she really is, and are therefore appropriate for persons of short stature. tall women, for this reason, should never wear them. flounces are becoming to tall persons, but not to short ones. the colors worn should be determined by the complexion, and should harmonize with it. "ladies with delicate rosy complexions bear white and blue better than dark colors, while sallow hues of complexion will not bear these colors near them, and require dark, quiet, or grave colors to improve their appearance. yellow is the most trying and dangerous of all, and can only be worn by the rich-toned, healthy-looking brunette." in the second place, there should be harmony between your dress and your circumstances. it should accord with your means, your house, your furniture, the place in which you reside, and the society in which you move. thirdly, your costume should be suited to the time, place, and occasion on which it is to be worn. that summer clothes should not be worn in winter, or winter clothes in summer, every one sees clearly enough. the law of fitness as imperatively demands that you should have one dress for the kitchen, the field, or the workshop, and another, and quite a different one, for the parlor; one for the street and another for the carriage, one for a ride on horseback and another for a ramble in the country. long, flowing, and even trailing skirts are beautiful and appropriate in the parlor, but in the muddy streets, draggling in the filth, and embarrassing every movement of the wearer, or in the country among the bushes and briers, they lose all their beauty and grace, because no longer fitting. the prettiest costume we have ever seen for a shopping excursion or a walk in the city, and especially for a ramble in the country, is a short dress or frock reaching to the knee, and trowsers of the common pantaloon form, but somewhat wider. full turkish trowsers might be worn with this dress, but are less convenient. the waist or body of the dress is made with a yoke and belt, and pretty full. the sleeves should be gathered into a band and buttoned at the wrist. a _saque_ or a _basque_ of a different color from the waist has a fine effect as a part of this costume. add to it a gipsy hat and good substantial shoes or boots, and you may walk with ease, grace, and pleasure. this was the working and walking costume of the women of the north american phalanx, and is still worn on the domain which once belonged to that association, though the institution which gave it its origin has ceased to exist. if you reside in a place where you can adopt this as your industrial and walking costume, without too much notoriety and odium, try it. you must judge of this for yourself. we are telling you what is fitting, comfortable, and healthful, and therefore, in its place, beautiful, and not what it is expedient for you to wear. the time is coming when such a costume may be worn anywhere. rational independence, good taste, and the study of art are preparing the way for the complete overthrow of arbitrary fashion. help us to hasten the time when both women and men shall be permitted to dress as the eternal principles, harmony, and beauty dictate, and be no longer the slaves of the tailor and the dressmaker. but without adopting any innovations liable to shock staid conservatism or puritanic prudery, you may still, in a good measure, avoid the incongruities which we are now compelled to witness, and make your costume accord with place and occupation. in the field, garden, and workshop, gentlemen can wear nothing more comfortable and graceful than the blouse. it may be worn loose or confined by a belt. if your occupation is a very dusty one, wear overalls. in the counting-room and office, gentlemen wear frock-coats or sack coats. they need not be of very fine material, and should not be of any garish pattern. in your study or library, and about the house generally, on ordinary occasions, a handsome dressing-gown is comfortable and elegant. a lady, while performing the morning duties of her household may wear a plain loose dress, made high in the neck, and with long sleeves fastened at the wrist. it must not look slatternly, and may be exceedingly beautiful and becoming. in reference to ornament, "the law of dress," to quote our artist-friend again, "is, that where you want the eye of a spectator to rest (for we all dress for show), you should concentrate your decoration, leaving the parts of the apparel to which you do not want attention called, as plain and negative as possible--not ugly, as some people, in an affectation of plainness, do (for you have no right to offend the eye of your fellow-man with any thing which is ugly), but simply negative." iv.--materials, etc. the materials of which your clothes are made should be the best that your means will allow. one generally exercises a very bad economy and worse taste in wearing low-priced and coarse materials. for your working costume, the materials should of course correspond with the usage to which they are to be subjected. they should be strong and durable, but need not therefore be either very coarse or at all ugly. as a general rule, it costs no more to dress well than ill. a gentleman's shirts should always be fine, clean, and well-fitted. it is better to wear a coarse or threadbare coat than a disreputable shirt. the better taste and finer instincts of the ladies will require no hint in reference to their "most intimate appareling." true taste, delicacy, and refinement regards the under clothing as scrupulously as that which is exposed to view. the coverings of the head and the feet are important and should by no means be inferior to the rest of your apparel. shoes are better than boots, except in cases where the latter are required for the protection of the feet and ankles against water, snow, or injury from briers, brambles, and the like. ladies' shoes for walking should be substantial enough to keep the feet dry and warm. if neatly made, and well-fitting, they need not be clumsy. thin shoes, worn on the damp ground or pavement, have carried many a beautiful woman to her grave. if you wish to have corns and unshapely feet, wear tight shoes; they never fail to produce those results. the fashionable fur hat, in its innumerable but always ugly forms, is, in the eye of taste, an absurd and unsightly covering for the head; and it is hardly less uncomfortable and unhealthful than ugly. the fine, soft, and more picturesque felt hats now, we are glad to say, coming more and more into vogue, are far more comfortable and healthful. a light, fine straw hat is the best for summer. the bonnets of the ladies, in their fashionable forms, are only a little less ugly and unbecoming than the fur hats of the gentlemen. a broad-brimmed or gipsy hat is far more becoming to most women than the common bonnet. we hope to live to see both "stove-pipe hats" and "sugar-scoop bonnets" abolished; but, in the mean time let those wear them who _must_. v.--mrs. manners on dress. mrs. manners, the highest authority we can possibly quote in such matters, has the following hints to girls, which we can not deny ourselves the pleasure of copying, though they may seem, in part, a repetition of remarks already made: "good taste is indispensable in dress, but that, united to neatness, is _all_ that is _necessary_--that is the fabled cestus of venus which gave beauty to its wearer. good taste involves _suitable fabrics--a neat and becoming 'fitting' to her figure--colors suited to her complexion, and a simple and unaffected manner of wearing one's clothes_. a worsted dress in a warm day, or a white one in a cold day, or a light, thin one in a windy day, are all in _bad_ taste. very fine or very delicate dresses worn in the street, or very highly ornamented clothes worn to church or to shop in, are in _bad_ taste. very long dresses worn in muddy or dusty weather, even if long dresses are the _fashion_, are still in _bad_ taste. "deep and bright-colored gloves are always in bad taste; very few persons are careful enough in selecting gloves. light shoes and dark dresses, white stockings and dark dresses, dark stockings and light dresses, are not indicative of good taste. a girl with neatly and properly dressed feet, with neat, well-fitting gloves, smoothly arranged hair, and a clean, well-made dress, who walks well, and speaks well, and, above all, acts politely and kindly, _is a lady_, and no _wealth_ is required here. fine clothes and fine airs are abashed before such propriety and good taste. thus the poorest may be so attired as to appear as lady-like as the wealthiest; nothing is more _vulgar_ than the idea that money makes a lady, or that fine clothes can do it." vi.--wearing the hair and beard. the hair and beard, in one of their aspects, belong to the dress. in reference to the style of wearing them, consult the general principles of taste. a man to whom nature has given a handsome beard, deforms himself sadly by shaving--at least, that is our opinion; and on this point fashion and good taste agree. the full beard is now more common than the shaven face in all our large cities. in the dressing of the hair there is room for the display of a great deal of taste and judgment. the style should vary with the different forms of face. lardner's "young ladies' manual" has the following hints to the gentler sex. gentlemen can modify them to suit their case: "after a few experiments, a lady may very easily decide what mode of dressing her hair, and what head-dress renders her face most attractive. "ringlets hanging about the forehead suit almost every one. on the other hand, the fashion of putting the hair smoothly, and drawing it back on either side, is becoming to few; it has a look of vanity instead of simplicity: the face must do every thing for it, which is asking too much, especially as hair, in its pure state, is the ornament intended for it by nature. hair is to the human aspect what foliage is to the landscape. "light hair is generally most becoming when curled. for a round face, the curls should be made in short, half ringlets, reaching a little below the ears. for an oval face, long and thick ringlets are suitable; but if the face be thin and sharp, the ringlets should be light, and not too long, nor too many in number. "when dark hair is curled, the ringlets should never fall in heavy masses upon the shoulders. open braids are very beautiful when made of dark hair; they are also becoming to light-haired persons. a simple and graceful mode of arranging the hair is to fold the front locks behind the ears, permitting the ends to fall in a couple of ringlets on either side behind. "another beautiful mode of dressing the hair, and one very appropriate in damp weather, when it will keep in curl, is to loop up the ringlets with small hair-pins on either side of the face and behind the ears, and pass a light band of braided hair over them. "persons with very long, narrow heads may wear the hair knotted very low at the back of the neck. if the head be long, but not very narrow, the back hair may be drawn to one side, braided in a thick braid, and wound around the head. when the head is round, the hair should be formed in a braid in the middle of the back of the head. if the braid be made to resemble a basket, and a few curls permitted to fall from within it, the shape of the head is much improved." vii.--art _vs._ fashion. observe that we have been laying down some of the maxims deduced from the principles of art and taste, in their application to dress, and not promulgating the edicts of fashion. if there is a lack of harmony on some points, between the two, it is not our fault. we have endeavored to give you some useful hints in reference to the beautiful and the fitting in costume, based on a higher law than the enactments of the fashion-makers. you must judge for yourself how far you can make the latter bend to the former. we have been talking of dress as an individual matter. in future chapters we shall have occasion to refer to it in its relation to the usages of society. viii.--signs of "the good time coming." n. p. willis, in the _home journal_, writing on the dress-reform agitation, thus closes his disquisition: "we repeat, that we see signs which look to us as if the present excitement as to _one_ fashion were turning into a universal inquiry as to the sense or propriety of _any fashion at all_. when the subject shall have been fully discussed, and public attention fully awakened, common sense will probably take the direction of the matter, and opinion will settle in some shape which, at least, may reject former excesses and absurdities. some moderate similarity of dress is doubtless necessary, and there are proper times and places for long dresses and short dresses. these and other points the ladies are likely to come to new decisions about. while they consult health, cleanliness, and convenience, however, we venture to express a hope that they will _get rid of the present slavish uniformity_--that what is becoming to each may be worn without fear of unfashionableness, and that in this way we may see every woman dressed somewhat differently and to her own best advantage, and the _proportion of beauty largely increased_, as it would, thereby, most assuredly be." footnote: [a] "hints toward physical perfection; or, how to acquire and retain beauty, grace, and strength, and secure long life and perpetual youth." iii. self-culture there is no man who can so easily and so naturally become in all points a gentleman knight, without fear and without reproach, as a true american republican.--_james parton._ i.-moral and social training. having given due attention to your personal habits and dress, consider what special errors still remain to be corrected, or what deficiencies to be supplied, and carefully and perseveringly apply yourself to the required self-training. if you are sensible of an inadequate development of any of those faculties or feelings on which good manners are based, set yourself at once about the work of cultivation, remembering that the legitimate exercise of any organ or function necessarily tends to its development. look first to conscientiousness. it is hardly possible for you to acquire genuine good manners without an acute sense of equity. accustom yourself to a sacred regard for the rights of others, even in the minutest matters, and in the most familiar intercourse of the family or social circle. in a similar manner cultivate benevolence, veneration, adhesiveness, agreeableness, ideality, and the moral, social, and esthetic faculties in general. go out of your way, if necessary, to perform acts of kindness and friendship; never omit the "thank you" which is due for the slightest possible favor, whether rendered by the highest or the lowest; be always bland and genial; respect times, places, observances, and especially persons; and put yourself in the way of all possible elevating and refining influences. manners have their origin in the mind and the heart. manners do not make the man, as is sometimes asserted; but the man makes the manners. it is true, however, that the manners react upon mind and heart, continually developing and improving the qualities out of which they spring. you are placed in a particular community, or you are invited or wish to gain admittance into a certain circle. different communities and circles require, to some extent, different qualifications. ascertain what you lack and acquire it as speedily as possible; but remember that good sense and good nature are out of place in no company. ii.--language. conversation plays an important part in the intercourse of society. it is a great and valuable accomplishment to be able to talk well. cultivate language and the voice. learn to express yourself with correctness, ease, and elegance. this subject is worthy of all the time and study you can give to it. "how to talk: a pocket manual of conversation and debate," which forms one of this series of "hand-books for home improvement," will give you all necessary aid in this department. iii.--position and movement. study also the graces of manner, motion, and position. grace is natural, no doubt, but most of us have nearly lost sight of nature. it is often with the greatest difficulty that we find our way back to her paths. it seems a simple and easy thing to walk, and a still easier and simpler thing to stand or sit, but not one in twenty perform either of these acts with ease and grace. there are a hundred little things connected with attitude, movement, the carriage of the arms, the position of the feet and the like, which, though seemingly unimportant are really essential to elegance and ease. never despise these little things, or be ashamed to acquire the smallest grace by study and practice. you desire to be a person of "good standing" in society. how _do_ you stand? we refer now to the artistic or esthetic point of view. if you are awkward, you are more likely to manifest your awkwardness in standing than in walking. do you know where to put your feet and what to do with your hands? in the absence of any better rule or example, try to forget your limbs, and let them take care of themselves. but observe the attitudes which sculptors give to their statues; and study also those of children, which are almost always graceful, because natural. avoid, on the one hand, the stiffness of the soldier, and, on the other, the ape-like suppleness of the dancing-master; and let there be no straining, no fidgeting, no uneasy shifting of position. you should stand on _both_ feet, bearing a little more heavily on one than the other. the same general principles apply to the sitting posture. this may be either graceful, dignified, and elegant, or awkward, abject, and uncouth. the latter class of qualities may be got rid of and the former acquired, and depend upon it, it is a matter of some consequence which of them characterizes your position and movements. walking is not so difficult an accomplishment as standing and sitting, but should receive due attention. it has a very close connection with character, and either of them may be improved or deteriorated through the other. a close observer and a sensible and trustworthy monitor of their own sex thus enumerates some of the common faults of women in their "carriage," or manner of walking: "slovenliness in walking characterizes some. they go shuffling along, precisely as if their shoes were down at the heel--"slipshod"--and they could not lift up their feet in consequence. if it is dusty or sandy, they kick up the dust before them and fill their skirts with it. this is exceedingly ungraceful. if i were a gentleman, i really do not think i could marry a lady who walked like this; she would appear so very undignified, and i could not be proud of her. "some have another awkwardness. they lift up their feet so high that their knees are sent out before them showing the movement through the dress. they always seem to be leaving their skirts behind them, instead of carrying them gracefully about them. some saunter along so loosely they seem to be hung on wires; others are as stiff as if they supposed only straight lines were agreeable to the eye; and others, again, run the chin forward considerably in advance of the breast, looking very silly and deficient in self-respect. "sometimes a lady walks so as to turn up her dress behind every time she puts her foot back, and i have seen a well-dressed woman made to look very awkward by elevating her shoulders slightly and pushing her elbows too far behind her. some hold their hands up to the waist, and press their arms against themselves as tightly as if they were glued there; others swing them backward and forward, as a business man walks along the street. _too short_ steps detract from dignity very much, forming a mincing pace; too long steps are masculine. "some walk upon the ball of the foot very flatly and clumsily; others come down upon the heel as though a young elephant was moving; and others, again, ruin their shoes and their appearance by walking upon the side of the foot. many practice a stoop called the grecian bend, and when they are thirty, will pass well, unless the face be seen, for fifty years' old." gymnastics, dancing, and the military drill are excellent auxiliaries in the work of physical training, though all of them may be, and constantly are, abused. we can not illustrate their application here. they will receive the attention they deserve in "hints toward physical perfection," already referred to as in preparation. iv.--self-command. without perfect self-control you are constantly liable to do something amiss, and your other social qualifications will avail little. you must not only be fully conscious who you are, what you are, where you are, and what you are about, but you must also have an easy and complete control of all your words and actions, and feel _at home_ wherever you are. you are liable to lose this self-command either through bashfulness or excitement. the former is one of the greatest obstacles with which a majority of young people have to contend. it can be overcome by _resolute effort_ and the cultivation of self-respect and self-reliance. do not allow it to keep you out of society. you will not conquer it by such a course. you might as reasonably expect to learn to swim without going into the water. v.--observation. one of the best means of improvement in manners is observation. in company, where you are in doubt in reference to any rule or form, be quiet and observe what others do, and govern your conduct by theirs; but except in mere external forms, beware of a servile imitation. seek to understand the principles which underlie the observances you witness, and to become imbued with the spirit of the society (if good) in which you move, rather than to copy particulars in the manners of any one. vi.--practical lessons. but the most important instrumentality for the promotion of the externals of good manners is constant practice in the actual every-day intercourse of society; and without this our instructions and your study will both be thrown away. begin now, to-day, with the next person you meet or address. iv. fundamental principles. courtesy is the beautiful part of morality, justice carried to the utmost, rectitude refined, magnanimity in trifles.--_life illustrated._ i.--manners and morals. good manners and good morals are founded on the same eternal principles of right, and are only different expressions of the same great truths. both grow out of the necessities of our existence and relations. we have individual rights based on the fact of our individual being; and we have social duties resulting from our connection, in the bonds of society, with other individuals who have similar rights. morals and manners alike, while they justify us in asserting and maintaining our own rights, require us scrupulously to respect, in word and act, the rights of others. it is true that the former, in the common comprehension of the term, is satisfied with simple justice in all our relations, while the latter often requires something more than the strictest conscientiousness can demand--a yielding of more than half the road--an exercise of the sentiment of benevolence, as well as of equity; but the highest morality really makes the same requisition, for it includes politeness, and recognizes deeds of kindness as a duty. ii.--rights. in this country we need no incitements to the assertion and maintenance of our rights, whether individual or national. we are ready at all times to do battle for them either with the tongue, the pen, or the sword, as the case may require. even women have discovered that _they_ have rights, and he must be a bold man indeed who dares call them in question. yes, we all, men, women, and children, have rights, and are forward enough in claiming then. are we equally ready to respect the rights of others? iii.--duties. out of rights grow duties; the first of which is to live an honest, truthful, self-loyal life, acting and speaking always and everywhere in accordance with the laws of our being, as revealed in our own physical and mental organization. it is by the light of this fact that we must look upon all social requirements, whether in dress, manners, or morals. all that is fundamental and genuine in these will be found to harmonize with universal principles, and consequently with our primary duty in reference to ourselves. . _the senses._ whenever and wherever we come in contact with our fellow-men, there arises a question of rights, and consequently of duties. we have alluded incidentally to some of them, in speaking of habits and dress. the senses of each individual have their rights, and it is your duty to respect them. the eye has a claim upon you for so much of beauty in form, color, arrangement, position, and movement as you are able to present to it. a french author has written a book, the aim of which is to show that it is the duty of a pretty woman to look pretty. it is the duty of _all_ women, and all men too, to look and behave just as well as they can, and whoever fails in this, fails in good manners and in duty. the ear demands agreeable tones and harmonious combinations of tones--pleasant words and sweet songs. if you indulge in loud talking, in boisterous and untimely laughter, or in profane or vulgar language, or sing out of tune, you violate its rights and offend good manners. the sense of smell requires pleasant odors for its enjoyment. fragrance is its proper element. to bring the fetid odor of unwashed feet or filthy garments, or the stench of bad tobacco or worse whisky, or the offensive scent of onions or garlics within its sphere, is an act of impoliteness. the sense of taste asks for agreeable flavors, and has a right to the best we can give in the way of palatable foods and drinks. the sense of feeling, though less cultivated and not so sensitive as the others, has its rights too, and is offended by too great coarseness, roughness, and hardness. it has a claim on us for a higher culture. . _the faculties._ and if the senses have their rights, we must admit that the higher faculties and feelings of our nature are at least equally dowered in this respect. you can not trespass upon one of them without a violation of good manners. we can not go into a complete exposition of the "bill of rights" of each. you can analyze them for yourself, and learn the nature of their claims upon you. in the mean time, we will touch upon a point or two here and there. . _opinions._ each person has a right to his or her opinions, and to the expression of them _on proper occasions_, and there is no duty more binding upon us all than the most complete and respectful toleration. the author of "the illustrated manners book" truly says: "_every denial of, or interference with, the personal freedom or absolute rights of another, is a violation of good manners._ he who presumes to censure me for my religious belief, or want of belief; who makes it a matter of criticism or reproach that i am a theist or atheist, trinitarian or unitarian, catholic or protestant, pagan or christian, jew, mohammedan, or mormon, is guilty of rudeness and insult. if any of these modes of belief make me intolerant or intrusive, he may resent such intolerance or repel such intrusion; but the basis of all true politeness and social enjoyment is the mutual tolerance of personal rights." . _the sacredness of privacy._ here is another passage from the author just quoted which is so much to the point that we can not forbear to copy it: "one of the rights most commonly trespassed upon constituting a violent breach of good manners, is the right of privacy, or of the control of one's own person and affairs. there are places in this country where there exists scarcely the slightest recognition of this right. a man or woman bolts into your house without knocking. no room is sacred unless you lock the door, and an exclusion would be an insult. parents intrude upon children, and children upon parents. the husband thinks he has a right to enter his wife's room, and the wife would feel injured if excluded, by night or day, from her husband's. it is said that they even open each other's letters, and claim, as a right, that neither should have any secrets from the other. "it in difficult to conceive of such a state of intense barbarism in a civilized country, such a denial of the simplest and most primitive rights, such an utter absence of delicacy and good manners; and had we not been assured on good authority that such things existed, we should consider any suggestions respecting them needless and impertinent. "each person in a dwelling should, if possible, have a room as sacred from intrusion as the house is to the family. no child, grown to years of discretion, should be outraged by intrusion. no relation, however intimate, can justify it. so the trunks, boxes, packets, papers, and letters of every individual, locked or unlocked, sealed or unsealed, are sacred. it is ill manners even to open a book-case, or to read a written paper lying open, without permission expressed or implied. books in an open case or on a center-table, cards in a card-case, and newspapers, are presumed to be open for examination. be careful where you go, what you read, and what you handle, particularly in private apartments." this right to privacy extends to one's business, his personal relations, his thoughts, and his feelings. _don't intrude_; and always "mind your own business," which means, by implication, that you must let other people's business alone. . _conformity._ you must conform, to such an extent as not to annoy and give offense, to the customs, whether in dress or other matters, of the circle in which you move. this conformity is an implied condition in the social compact. it is a practical recognition of the right of others, and shows merely a proper regard for their opinions and feelings. if you can not sing in tune with the rest, or on the same key, remain silent. you may be right and the others wrong but that does not alter the case. convince them, if you can, and bring them to your pitch, but never mar even a low accord. so if you can not adapt your dress and manners to the company in which you find yourself, the sooner you take your leave the better. you may and should endeavor, in a proper way, to change such customs and fashions as you may deem wrong, or injurious in their tendency, but, in the mean time, you have no right to violate them. you may choose your company, but, having chosen it, you must conform to its rules til you can change them. you are not compelled to reside in rome; but if you choose to live there, you must "do as the romans do." the rules which should govern your conduct, as an isolated individual, were such a thing as isolation possible in the midst of society, are modified by your relations to those around you. this life of ours is a complex affair, and our greatest errors arise from our one-side views of it. we are sovereign individuals, and are born with certain "inalienable rights;" but we are also members of that larger individual society, and our rights can not conflict with the duties which grow out of that relation. if by means of our non-conformity we cause ourselves to be cut off, like an offending hand, or plucked out, like an offending eye, our usefulness is at once destroyed. it is related of a certain king that on a particular occasion he turned his tea into his saucer, contrary to his custom and to the etiquette of society, because two country ladies, whose hospitalities he was enjoying, did so. that king was a _gentleman_; and this anecdote serves to illustrate an important principle; namely, that _true politeness and genuine good manners often not only permit, but absolutely demand, a violation of some of the arbitrary rules of etiquette_. the _highest law_ demands complete harmony in all spheres and in all relations. iv.--equality. in the qualified sense which no doubt mr. jefferson affixed to the term in his own mind, "all men _are_ created free and _equal_." the "noble oracle" himself had long before as explicitly asserted the natural equality of man. in , thirty-seven years before the declaration of independence was penned, lord chesterfield wrote: "we are of the same species, and no distinction whatever is between us, except that which arises from fortune. for example, your footman and lizette would be your equals were they as rich as you. being poor, they are obliged to serve you. therefore you must not add to their misfortune by insulting or ill-treating them. a good heart never reminds people of their misfortune, but endeavors to alleviate, or, if possible, to make them forget it." the writer in _life illustrated_, quoted in a previous chapter, states the case very clearly as follows: "it is in the sacredness of their rights that men are equal. the smallest injustice done to the smallest man on earth is an offense against all men; an offense which all men have a personal and equal interest in avenging. if john smith picks my pocket, the cause in court is correctly entitled, 'the people _versus_ john smith.' the whole state of new york has taken up my quarrel with john, and arrays itself against john in awful majesty; because the pockets, the interests, the rights of a man are _infinitely_, and therefore _equally_, sacred. "the conviction of this truth is the beginning and basis of the science of republican etiquette, which acknowledges no _artificial_ distinctions. its leading principle is, that courtesy is due to all men from all men; from the servant to the served; from the served to the servant; and from both for precisely the same reason, namely, because both are human beings and _fellow_-citizens!" v.--a remark or two to be remembered. we purpose, in succeeding chapters, to set forth briefly but clearly, what the actual requirements of good society are in reference to behavior. you must look at these in the light of the general principles we have already laid down. it is not for us to say how far you ought or can conform to any particular custom, usage, or rule of etiquette. we believe that even the most arbitrary and capricious of them either have or have had a reason and a meaning. in many cases, however, the reason may no longer exist, and the form be meaningless; or while it embodies what is a living truth to others, you may have outgrown it or advanced beyond it. _you have an undoubted right, politely but firmly, to decline to do what seems to you, looking upon the matter from your highest stand-point, to be clearly wrong, and it is no breach of good manners to do so_; but at the same time you should avoid, as far as possible, putting yourself in positions which call for the exercise of this right. if you can not conscientiously wear a dress coat, or a stove-pipe hat, or cut your hair, or eat flesh-meat, or drink wine, you will naturally avoid, under ordinary circumstances, the circles in which non-conformity in these matters would be deemed a breach of good manners. when it is necessary that you should mingle with people whose customs you can not follow in all points without a violation of principle, you will courteously, and with proper respect for what they probably think entirely right, fall back upon the "higher law;" but if it is a mere matter of gloved or ungloved hands, cup or saucer, fork or knife, you will certainly have the courtesy and good sense to conform to usage. v. domestic manners. home is a little world of itself, and furnishes a sphere for the exercise of every virtue and for the experience of every pleasure or pain. if one profit not by its opportunities, he will be likely to pay dearly for less agreeable lessons in another school.--_harrison._ i.--a test of good manners. good manners are not to be put on and off with one's best clothes. politeness is an article for every-day wear. if you don it only on special and rare occasions, it will be sure to sit awkwardly upon you. if you are not well behaved in your own family circle, you will hardly be truly so anywhere, however strictly you may conform to the observances of good breeding, when in society. the true gentleman or lady is a gentleman or lady at all times and in all places-­at home as well as abroad--in the field, or workshop, or in the kitchen, as well as in the parlor. a snob is--a _snob_ always and everywhere. if you see a man behave in a rude and uncivil manner to his father or mother, his brothers or sisters, his wife or children; or fail to exercise the common courtesies of life at his own table and around his own fireside, you may at once set him down as a boor, whatever _pretensions_ he may make to gentility. dc not fall into the absurd error of supposing that you may do as you please at home--that is, unless you please to behave in a perfectly gentlemanly or ladylike manner. the same rights exist there as elsewhere, and the same duties grow out of them, while the natural respect and affection which should be felt by each member of the family for all the other members, add infinitely to their sacredness. let your good manners, then, begin at home. ii.--parents and children. american children (we are sorry to be obliged to say it) are not, as a general rule, well behaved. they are rude and disrespectful, if not disobedient. they inspire terror rather than love in the breasts of strangers and all persons who seek quiet and like order. in our drawing-rooms, on board our steamers, in our railway cars and stage coaches, they usually contrive to make themselves generally and particularly disagreeable by their familiarity, forwardness, and pertness. "young america" can not brook restraint, has no conception of superiority, and reverences nothing. his ideas of equality admit neither limitation nor qualification. he is born with a full comprehension of his own individual rights, but is slow in learning his social duties. through whose fault comes this state of things? american boys and girls have naturally as much good sense and good-nature as those of any other nation, and, when well trained, no children are more courteous and agreeable. the fault lies in their education. in the days of our grandfathers, children were taught manners at school--a rather rude, backwoods sort of manners, it is true, but better than the no manners at all of the present day. we must blame parents in this matter rather than their children. if you would have your children grow up beloved and respected by their elders as well as their contemporaries, teach them good manners in their childhood. the young sovereign should first learn to obey, that he may be the better fitted to command in his turn. those who are old enough to study this book, are old enough to take the matter in to their own hands, and remedy the defects and supply the deficiencies of their early education. we beg them to commence at once, and _at home_. allow no false ideas of "liberty and equality" to cause you to forget for a moment the deference due to your father and your mother. the fifth commandment has not been and can not be abrogated. we commend to you the example of the father of his country. look into the life of washington, and mark what tender and respectful attentions characterized his intercourse with his only surviving parent. _he_ never, we venture to say, spoke of his mother as "the old woman," or addressed her with incivility. "never," an old friend of yours adjures you, "let youthful levity or the example of others betray you into forgetfulness of the claims of your parents or elders to a certain deference." nature, a counselor still more sage, we doubt not, has written the same injunction upon your heart. _let your manners do justice to your feelings!_ "toward your father," that polished and courtly "gentleman of the old school," the author of the "american gentleman's guide to politeness and fashion," says, "preserve always a deferential manner, mingled with a certain frankness indicating that thorough confidence--that entire understanding of each other, which is the best guarantee of good sense in both, and of inestimable value to every young man blessed with a right-minded parent. accept the advice dictated by experience with respect, receive even reproof without impatience of manner, and hasten to prove afterward that you cherish no resentful remembrance of what may have seemed to you too great severity or a too manifest assumption of authority.... in the inner temple of _home_, as well as where the world looks on, render him reverence due. "there should be mingled with the habitual deference and attention that marks your manner to your mother the indescribable tenderness and rendering back of care and watchfulness that betokens remembrance of early days. no other woman should ever induce you to forget this truest, most disinterested friend, nor should your manner ever indicate even momentary indifference to her wishes or her affection." iii.--brothers and sisters. the intercourse of brothers and sisters should be marked by the frankness and familiarity befitting their intimate relation; but this certainly does not preclude the exercise of all the little courtesies of life. young man, be polite to your sister. she is a woman, and all women have claims on you for courteous attentions; and the affection which exists between you adds tenfold to the sacredness of the claims she has upon you, not only for protection, but for the exercise toward her of all the sweet amenities of life. except your mother and your wife or affianced mistress (if you have one), no one can possibly have an equal right to your attentions. if you are young and have neither wife nor lady-love, let your mother and your sisters be to you the embodiment of all that is tenderest, most beautiful, and best in the human world. you can have no better school than your daily intercourse with them, to fit you for female society in general. the young man who loves his sisters and always treats them with the politeness, deference, and kindness which is their due, is almost certain to be a favorite with their sex generally; so, _as you value your reputation for good manners and your success with other ladies, fail in no act of courtesy to your sisters_. the gentle and loving sister will need no injunction to treat an affectionate, polite, and attentive brother with the tender and respectful consideration which such a brother deserves. the charming little courtesies which you practice so gracefully in your intercourse with other gentlemen will not, you may be sure, be lost upon him. true politeness is never lost, and never out of place; and nowhere does it appear more attractive than at home. stiff formality and cold ceremoniousness are repulsive anywhere, and are particularly so in the family circle; but the easy, frank, and genial intercourse of the fireside, instead of being marred, is refined and made still more delightful by courtesy. iv.--the husband and wife. reader, are you married? but excuse us, if the question is not a proper one. if you are not, you doubtless hope to be, sooner or later, and therefore we will address you just as if you were. the husband should never cease to be a _lover_, or fail in any of those delicate attentions and tender expressions of affectionate solicitude which marked his intercourse before marriage with his heart's queen. all the respectful deference, every courteous observance, all the self-sacrificing devotion that can be claimed by a mistress is certainly due to a wife, and he is no true husband and no true _gentleman_ who withholds them. it is not enough that you honor, respect, and love your wife. you must put this honor, respect, and love into the forms of speech and action. let no unkind word, no seeming indifference, no lack of the little attentions due her, remind her sadly of the sweet days of courtship and the honey-moon. surely the love you thought would have been cheaply purchased at the price of a world is worth all you care to preserve. is not the wife more, and better, and dearer than the sweetheart? we venture to hint that it is probably your own fault if she is not. the chosen companion of your life, the mother of your children, the sharer of all your joys and sorrows, as she possesses the highest place in your affections, should have the best place everywhere, the choicest morsels, the politest attentions, the softest, kindest words, the tenderest care. love, duty, and good manners alike require it. and has the wife no duties? have the courteous observances, the tender watchfulness, the pleasant words, the never-tiring devotion, which won your smiles, your spoken thanks, your kisses, your very self, in days gone by, now lost their value? does not the husband rightly claim as much, at least, as the lover? if you find him less observant of the little courtesies due you, may this not be because you sometimes fail to reward him with the same sweet thanks and sweeter smiles? ask your own heart. have the comfort and happiness of your husband always in view, and let him _see_ and _feel_ that you still look up to him with trust and affection--that the love of other days has not grown cold. dress for his eyes more scrupulously than for all the rest of the world; make yourself and your home beautiful for his sake; play and sing (if you can) to please him; try to beguile him from his cares; retain his affections in the same way you won them, and--be polite even to your husband. v.--entertainers and their guests. hospitality takes a high rank among the social virtues; but we fear it is not held in so high esteem as formerly. its duties are often fatiguing and irksome, no doubt, and sometimes quite unnecessarily so. one of the most important maxims of hospitality is, "let your guests alone!" if it were generally observed it would save both hosts and visitors a world of trouble. your first object should be to make your guests feel at home. this they never can do while your needless bustle and obtrusive attentions constantly remind them that they are not at home, and perhaps make them wish they were. you will not, of course, understand us to mean that you should devote no attention to your guests. on the contrary, you should assiduously labor to promote their comfort and enjoyment, opening to them every source of entertainment within your reach; but it should be done in that easy, delicate, considerate way which will make it seem a matter of course, and no trouble whatever to you. you should not seem to be conferring but receiving a favor. begging your visitors to "make themselves at home," does not give them the home _feeling_. genuine, unaffected friendliness, and an unobtrusive and almost unperceived attention to their wants alone will impart this. allow their presence to interfere as little as possible with your domestic arrangements; thus letting them see that their visit does not disturb you, but that they fall, as it were, naturally into a vacant place in your household. observe your own feelings when you happen to be the guest of a person who, though he may be very much your friend, and really glad to see you, seems not to know what to do either with you or himself; and again, when in the house of another, you feel as much at ease as in your own. mark the difference, more easily felt than described, between the manners of the two, and deduce therefrom a lesson for your own improvement. furnish your rooms and table for your guests in as good style as your means and the circumstances of the case will permit, and make no fuss about it. to be unnecessarily sparing shows meanness, and to be extravagantly profuse is absurd as well an ruinous. probably your visitors know whether your income is large or small and if they do not they will soon learn, on that point, all that it is necessary for them to know. but if any circumstance out of the ordinary course of things should render an apology necessary, make it at once and say no more about it. avoid by all means the very common but very foolish habit of depreciating your own rooms, furniture, or viands, and expressing uncalled-for regrets that you have nothing better to offer, merely to give your guests an opportunity politely to contradict you. but you need not go to the other extreme and extol the meats you set before them. say nothing about these matters. when visitors show any intention of leaving, you will of course express the desire you feel to have them stay longer, but good manners do not require you to endeavor to retain them against their wishes or sense of duty. it is to be supposed that they know their own affairs best. guests sometimes forget (if they ever learned) that _they_ have any duties. we beg leave to jog their memory with the following hints from the graceful pen of "mrs. manners:" "to accommodate yourself to the habits and rules of the family, in regard to hours of rising or retiring, and particularly the hours for meals, is the first duty of a guest. inform yourself as soon as possible when the meals occur--whether there will be a dressing-bell--at what time they meet for prayers, and thus become acquainted with all the family regulations. _it is always the better way for a family to adhere strictly to all their usual habits_; it is a much simpler matter for one to learn to conform to those than for half a dozen to be thrown out of a routine, which may be almost indispensable to the fulfillment of their importunate duties. it certainly must promote the happiness of any reasonable person to know that his presence is no restraint and no inconvenience. "your own good sense and delicacy will teach you the desirability of keeping your room tidy, and your articles of dress and toilet as much in order as possible. if there is a deficiency of servants, a lady will certainly not hesitate to make her own bed, and to do for herself as much as possible, and for the family all that is in her power. i never saw an elegant lady of my acquaintance appear to better advantage than when once performing a service which, under other circumstances, might have been considered menial; yet, in her own house, she was surrounded by servants, and certainly she never used a broom or made a bed a her life." vi.--servants. we are all dependent, in one way or another, upon others. at one time we serve, at another we are served, and we are equally worthy of honor and respect in the one case as in the other. the man or the woman who serves us may or may not be our inferior in natural capacity, learning, manners, or wealth. be this as it may, the relation in which we stand to him or her gives us no right beyond the exaction of the service stipulated or implied in that relation. the right to tyrannize over our inferiors in social position, to unnecessarily humiliate them, or to be rude and unkind can not exist, because it would be an infringement of other rights. servants have rights as well as those whom they serve, and the latter have duties as well as the former. we owe those who labor for us something more than their wages. they have claims on us for a full recognition of their manhood or womanhood, and all the rights which grow out of that state. the true gentleman is never arrogant, or overbearing, or rude to domestics or _employées_. his commands are requests, and all services, no matter how humble the servant, are received with thanks, as if they were favors. we might say the same with still greater emphasis of the true lady. there is no surer sign of vulgarity than a needless assumption of the tone of authority and a haughty and supercilious bearing toward servants and inferiors in station generally. it is a small thing to say, "i thank you," but those little words are often better than gold. no one is too poor to bestow, or too rich to receive them. vi. the observances of every-day life. good manners are the settled medium of social, as specie is of commercial life: returns are equally expected in both; and people will no more advance their civility to a bear, than their money to a bankrupt.--_chesterfield._ i.--a preliminary remark. in going out into the great world which lies outside of home we have no new principles to lay down for your guidance. those we have set forth and illustrated in previous chapters are of universal application and meet all contingencies. we shall now essay a brief exposition of the established laws of etiquette, leaving each reader to judge for himself how far he can and ought to conform to them, and what modifications they require to adapt them to a change of time, place, and circumstances. ii.--introductions. it is neither necessary nor desirable to introduce everybody to everybody; and the promiscuous presentations sometimes inflicted upon us are anything but agreeable. you confer no favor on us, and only a nominal one on the person presented, by making us acquainted with one whom we do not desire to know; and you _may_ inflict a positive injury upon both. yon also put yourself in an unpleasant position; for "an introduction is a social indorsement," and yell become to a certain extent responsible for the person you introduce. if he disgraces himself in any way you share, in a greater or less degree, in his disgrace. be as cautious in this matter as you would in writing your name on the back of another man's note. as a general rule, no gentleman should be presented to a lady without her permission being previously obtained. between gentlemen this formality is not always necessary, but you should have good reason to believe that the acquaintance will be agreeable to both, before introducing any persons to each other. if a gentleman requests you to present him to another gentleman who is his superior in social position, or to a lady, you should either obtain permission of the latter, or decline to accede to his request, on the ground that you are not sufficiently intimate yourself to take the liberty. if you are walking with a friend, and are met or joined by another, it is not necessary to introduce them to each other; but you may do so if you think they would be glad to become acquainted. the same rule will apply to other accidental meetings. when two men call upon a stranger on a matter of business, each should present the other. the inferior should be introduced to the superior--the gentleman to the lady, as, "miss brown, permit me to introduce mr. smith." a lady may, however, be introduced to a gentleman much her superior in age or station. gentlemen and ladies who are presumed to be equals in age and position are mutually introduced; as, "mr. wilson, allow me to make you acquainted with mr. parker; mr. parker, mr. wilson." in presenting persons be very careful to speak their names plainly; and on being introduced to another, if you do not catch the name, say, without hesitation or embarrassment, "i beg your pardon, i did not hear the name." it is the common custom in this country to shake hands on being introduced. it is better that this should be optional with the person to whom you are presented or with you, if you stood in the position of the superior. if a lady or a superior in age or social position offers the hand, you of course accept it cordially. you will have too much self-respect to be the first to extend the hand in such a case. in merely formal introductions a bow is enough. feeling should govern in this matter. in introducing members of your own family you should always mention the name. say, "my father mr. jones," "my daughter miss jones," or "miss mary jones." your wife is simply "mrs. jones;" and if there happen to be another mrs. jones in the family, she may be "mrs. jones, my sister-in-law," etc. to speak of your wife as "my lady," or enter yourselves on a hotel register as mr. jones and lady, is particularly _snobbish_. introductions by letter are subject to the same general rules as verbal ones: we should, however, be still more cautious in giving them; but for directions on this point, as well as forms for letters of introduction, see "how to write," chapter ix. but may we not speak to a person without an introduction? in many cases we most certainly may and should. there is no reason in the world why two persons who may occupy the same seat in a railway car or a stage coach should remain silent during the whole journey because they have not been introduced, when conversation might be agreeable to both. the same remark will apply to many other occasions. you are not obliged, however to know these _extempore_ acquaintances afterward. if you are a gentleman, do not, we beg you, permit the lack of an introduction to prevent you from promptly offering your services to any unattended lady who may need them. take off your hat and politely beg the honor of protecting, escorting, or assisting her, and when the service has been accomplished, bow and retire. iii.--salutations. "salutation," a french writer says, "is the touchstone of good breeding." your good sense will teach you that it should vary in style with persons, times, places, and circumstances. you will meet an intimate friend with a hearty shake of the hand and an inquiry indicative of real interest, in reference to his health and that of his family. to another person you how respectfully without speaking. a slight note of recognition suffices in another case. but you should never come into the presence of any person, unless you feel at liberty to ignore their existence altogether, without some form of salutation. if you meet in company a person with whom you have a quarrel, it is better in general to bow coldly and ceremoniously than to seem not to see him. it is a great rudeness not to return a salutation, no matter how humble the person who salutes you. "a bow," la fontaine says, "is a note drawn at sight. if you acknowledge it, you must pay the full amount." the two best bred men in england, charles the second and george the fourth, never failed to take off their hats to the meanest of their subjects. a greater man than either, and a true "gentleman of the old school," george washington, was wont to lift his hat even to the poor negro slave, who took off his as that great man passed. iv.--receptions. the duty of receiving visitors usually devolves upon the mistress of the house, and should be performed in an easy, quiet, and self possessed manner, and without any unnecessary ceremony. in this way you will put your guests at their ease, and make their call or visit pleasant both to them and to yourself. from a little book before us entitled "etiquette for ladies," we condense a few useful hints on this subject: "when any one enters, whether announced or not, rise immediately, advance toward him, and request him to sit down. if it is a young man, _offer_ him an arm-chair, or a stuffed one; if an elderly man, _insist_ upon his _accepting_ the arm-chair; if a lady, beg her to be seated upon the sofa. if the master of the house receives the visitors, he will take a chair and place himself at a little distance from them; if, on the contrary, it is the mistress of the house, and if she is intimate with the lady who visits her, she will place herself near her. if several ladies come at once, we give the most honorable place to the one who, from age or other considerations, is most entitled to respect. in winter, the most honorable places are those at the corners of the fireplace. "if the visitor is a stranger, the master or mistress of the house rises, and any persons who may be already in the room should do the same. if some of them then withdraw, the master or mistress of the house should conduct them as far as the door. but whoever the person may be who departs, if we have other company, we may dispense with conducting farther than the door of the room." quiet self-possession and unaffected courtesy will enable you to make even a ceremonious morning call tolerable, if not absolutely pleasant to both the caller and yourself. v.--visits and calls. visits are of various kinds, each of which has its own terms and observances. there are visits of ceremony, visits of congratulation, visits of condolence, visits of friendship. visits of ceremony, though they take up a large share of the time of the fashionable lady, are very stupid affairs as a general thing, and have little to recommend them except--fashion. the best thing about them is that they may and should be short. you pay visits of congratulation to your friends on the occurrence of any particularly auspicious event in his family, or on his appointment to any office or dignity. visits of condolence should be made within the week after the event which calls for them. let visits of friendship be governed by friendship's own laws, and the universal principles of good manners. we shall give no particular rules for the regulation of their time or their length. "morning calls," the "illustrated manners book" says "are the small change of social commerce; parties and assemblies are the heavy drafts. a call is not less than ten nor more than twenty minutes in the city; in the country a little longer. the time for a morning call is between eleven and two o'clock, unless your friends are so fashionable as to dine at five or six, in which case you can call from twelve to three. morning, in fashionable parlance, means any time before dinner." in a morning call or visit of ceremony, the gentleman takes his hat and cane, if he carries one, into the room. the lady does not take off her bonnet and shawl. in attending ladies who are making morning calls, a gentleman assists them up the steps, rings the bell, _follows_ them into the room, and waits till they have finished their salutations, unless he has a part to perform in presenting them. ladies should always be the first to rise in terminating a visa, and when they have made their _adieux_ their cavaliers repeat the ceremony, and follow them out. soiled overshoes or wet garments should not be worn into any room devoted to the use of ladies. gentlemen must never remain seated in the company of ladies with whom he is ceremoniously associated, while they are standing. always relieve ladies of their parcels, parasols, shawls, etc. whenever this will conduce to their convenience.[b] if you call on a person who is "engaged," or "not at home," leave your card. if there are several persons you desire to see, leave a card for each, or desire a servant to present your compliments to them severally. all visits should be returned, personally or by card, just as one should speak when spoken to, or answer a respectful letter. in visiting at a hotel, do not enter your friend's room till your card has announced you. if not at home, send your card to his room with your address written upon it as well as the name of the person for whom it is intended, to avoid mistakes.[c] when you are going abroad, intending to be absent for some time, you inclose your card in an envelope, having first, written t. t. l. [to take leave], or p. p. c. [_pour prendre congé_] upon it--for a man the former is better--and direct it outside to the person for whom it is intended. in taking leave of a _family_, you send as many cards as you would if you were paying an ordinary visit. when you return from your voyage, all the persons to whom, before going, you have sent cards, will pay you the first visit. if, previously to a voyage or his marriage, any one should not send his card to another, it is to be understood that he wishes the acquaintance to cease. the person, therefore, who is thus _dis_carded, should never again visit the other.[d] visiting cards should be engraved or handsomely written. those printed on type are considered vulgar, simply, no doubt, because they are cheap. a gentleman's card should be of medium size, unglazed, ungilt, and perfectly plain. a lady's card may be larger and finer, and should be carried in a card-case. if you should happen to be paying an evening visit at a house, where, unknown to you, there is a small party assembled, you should enter and present yourself precisely as you would have done had you been invited. to retire precipitately with an apology for the intrusion would create a _scene_, and be extremely awkward. go in, therefore, converse with ease for a few moments, and then retire. in making morning calls, usage allows a gentleman to wear a frock coat, or a sack coat, if the latter happen to be in fashion. the frock coat is now, in this country, _tolerated_ at dinner-parties, and even at a ball, but is not considered in good _ton_ or style. "ladies," according to the authority of a writer of their own sex, "should make morning calls in an elegant and simple _négligé_, all the details of which we can not give, on account of their multiplicity and the numerous modifications of fashion. it is necessary for them, when visiting at this time, to arrange their toilet with great care." vi.--appointments. be exact in keeping all appointments. it is better never to avail yourself of even the quarter of an hour's grace sometimes allowed. if you make an appointment with another at your own house, you should be invisible to the rest of the world, and consecrate your time solely to him. if you accept an appointment at the house of a public officer or a man of business, be very punctual, transact the affair with dispatch, and retire the moment it is finished. at a dinner or supper to which you have accepted an invitation, be absolutely punctual. it is very annoying to arrive an hour before the rest, and still worse to be too late. if you find yourself in the latter predicament on an occasion where ceremony is required, send in your card, with an apology, and retire. vii.--table manners. we shall speak in another place of the ceremonious observances requisite at formal dinner parties. our observations here will be of a more general character, and of universal application. take your seat quietly at the table. sit firmly in your chair, without lolling, leaning back, drumming, or any other uncouth action. unfold your napkin and lay it in your lap, eat soup delicately with a spoon, holding a piece of bread in your left hand. be careful to make no noise in chewing or swallowing your food. cut your food with your knife; but the fork is to be used to convey it to your mouth. a spoon is employed for food that can not be eaten with a fork. take your fork or spoon in the right hand. never use both hands to convey anything to your month. break your bread, not cut or bite it. your cup was made to drink from, and your saucer to hold the cup. it is not well to drink anything hot; but you can wait till your tea or coffee cools. eggs should be eaten from the shell (chipping off a little of the _larger_ end), with or without an egg-cup. the egg-cup is to hold the shell, and not its contents. be attentive to the wants of any lady who may be seated next to you, especially where there are no servants, and pass anything that may be needful to others. when you send up your plate for anything, your knife and fork should go with it. when you have finished the course, lay your knife and fork on your plate, parallel to each other, with the handles toward your right hand. of course, you should never put your knife into the butter or the salt, or your spoon into the sugar-bowl. _eat moderately and slowly_, for your health's sake; but rapid, gross, and immoderate eating is as vulgar as it is unwholesome. never say or do anything at table that is liable to produce disgust. wipe your nose, if needful, but never blow it. if it is necessary to do this, or to spit, leave the table. it is almost unnecessary to mention that the table-cloth is not the place to put your salt. bread is the only comestible which the custom of well-bred people permits to be laid off your plate. it is well not to seem too much in haste to commence, as if you are famishing, but neither is it necessary to wait till everybody is served before you commence. it is perfectly proper to "take the last piece," if you want it, always presuming that there is more of the same in reserve. viii.--conversation. as conversation is the principal business in company, we can not well pay too much attention to it; but having devoted another work to the subject, we shall make this section briefer than would otherwise be allowable, and refer our readers for complete instructions in this important art to "how to talk."[e] the maxims which follow are mostly compiled from other works now before us. the wit of conversation consists more in finding it in others than in showing a great deal yourself. he who goes from your conversation pleased with himself and his own wit, is perfectly well pleased with you. the most delicate pleasure is to please another.[f] men of all sorts of occupations meet in society. as they go there to unbend their minds and escape from the fetters of business, you should never, in an evening, speak to a man about his profession. do not talk of politics to a journalist, of fevers to a physician, of stocks to a broker. talk to a mother about her children. women are never tired of hearing of themselves and their children.[g] in promiscuous companies you should vary your address agreeably to the different ages of the persons to whom you speak. it would be rude and absurd to talk of your courtships or your pleasures to men of certain dignity and gravity, to clergymen, or men in years. to women you should always address yourself with great respect and attention; their sex is entitled to it, and it is among the duties of good manners; at the same time, that respect is very properly and very agreeably mixed with a degree of gayety, if you have it. in relating anything, avoid repetitions, or very hackneyed expressions, such as, _says he_, or _says she_. some people will use these so often as to take off the hearer's attention from the story; as, in an organ out of tune, one pipe shall perhaps sound the whole time we are playing, and confuse the piece so as not to be understood. carefully avoid talking either of your own or other people's domestic concerns. by doing the one, you will be thought vain; by entering into the other, you will be considered officious. talking of yourself is an impertinence to the company; your affairs are nothing to them; besides, they can not be kept too secret. as to the affairs of others, what are they to you? you should never help out or forestall the slow speaker, as if you alone were rich in expressions, and he were poor. you may take it for granted that every one is vain enough to think he can talk well, though he may modestly deny it. [there is an exception to this rule. in speaking with foreigners, who understand our language imperfectly, and may be unable to find the right word, it is sometimes polite to assist them by suggesting the word they require.] giving advice unasked is another piece of rudeness. it is, in effect, declaring ourselves wiser than those to whom we give it; reproaching them with ignorance and inexperience. it is a freedom that ought not to be taken with any common acquaintance. those who contradict others upon all occasions, and make every assertion a matter of dispute, betray, by this behavior, a want of acquaintance with good breeding. vulgarism in language is the next and distinguishing characteristic of bad company and a bad education. a man of fashion avoids nothing with more care than that. proverbial expressions and trite sayings are the flowers of the rhetoric of a vulgar man.[h] never descend to flattery; but deserved compliments should never be withheld. be attentive to any person who may be speaking to you, and be equally ready to speak or to listen, as the case may require. never dispute. as a general rule, do not ride your own _hobbies_ in a mixed company, nor allow yourself to be "trotted out" for their amusement. ix.--music. when music commences, conversation should cease. it is very rude to talk while another person is singing or playing. a lady should never exhibit any anxiety to sing or play; but if she intends to do so, she should not affect to refuse when asked, but obligingly accede at once. if you can not sing, or do not choose to, say so with seriousness and gravity, and put an end to the expectation promptly. after singing once or twice, cease and give place to others. the complaint is as old as the days of horace, that a singer can with the greatest difficulty be set agoing, and when agoing, can not be stopped. in playing an accompaniment for another, do not forget that it is intended to aid, and not to interrupt, and that the instrument is subordinate to the singer. when a lady is playing, it is desirable that some one should turn the leaves for her. some gentleman will be generally at hand to do this, but unless he be able to read music, his services may as well be dispensed with. x.--letters and notes. few accomplishments are more important than letter writing--in fact, it is absolutely indispensable to every man or woman who desires to fill a respectable position it society. but good letter-writers are rare. too little attention is paid to the subject in our systems of education; and the lack of the ability to write a decent letter, or even a note of invitation, acceptance, or regret, is often the cause of great mortification, to say nothing of the delays, misunderstandings, and losses resulting in business affairs from bungling and incorrectly written letters. the impossibility of doing justice to the subject in the very limited space that we could devote to it in this work, compels us to refer the reader to our little manual of composition and letter-writing, entitled "how to write," in which the whole subject is thoroughly explained and illustrated. xi.--miscellaneous hints. . _which goes first?_ in ascending or descending stairs with a lady, it is proper to offer your arm, provided the stair-case is sufficiently wide to permit two to go up or down abreast. but if it is not, which should go first? authorities disagree. usage is not settled. it is a general rule of etiquette to give ladies the precedence everywhere. is there a sufficient reason for making this an exception? one says that if you follow a lady in going down stairs, you are liable to tread on her dress, and that if she precedes you in going up, she might display a large foot or a thick ankle which were better concealed. he thinks the gentleman should go first. another calls this a maxim of prudery and the legacy of a maiden aunt. colonel lunettes, our oft-quoted friend of the old _régime_, speaks very positively on this point. "nothing is more absurd," he says, "than the habit of preceding ladies in ascending stairs, adopted by some men--as if by following just behind them, as one should if the arm be disengaged, there can be any impropriety. soiled frills and unmended hose must have originated this vulgarity." let the ladies decide. . _an american habit._ there is a habit peculiar to the united states, and from which even some females, who class themselves as ladies, are not entirely free--that of lolling back, balanced upon the two hind legs of a chair. such a breach of good breeding is rarely committed in europe. lolling is carried even so for in america, that it is not uncommon to see the attorneys lay their feet upon the council table; and the clerks and judges theirs also upon their desks in open court. . _gloved or ungloved?_ in shaking hands it is more respectful to offer an ungloved hand; but if two gentlemen are both gloved, it is very foolish to keep each other waiting to take them off. you should not, however, offer a gloved hand to a lady or a superior who is ungloved. foreigners are sometimes very sensitive in this matter, and might deem the glove an insult. it is well for a gentleman to carry his right-hand glove in his hand where he is likely to have occasion to shake hands. at a ball or a party the gloves should not be taken off. . _equality._ in company, though none are _free_, yet all are _equal_. all, therefore, whom you meet should be treated with equal respect, although interest may dictate toward each different degrees of attention. it is disrespectful to the inviter to shun any of her guests. . _false shame._ in a letter to his son, lord chesterfield makes the following confession: "i have often wished an obscure acquaintance absent, for meeting and taking notice of me when i was in what i thought and called fine company. i have returned his notice shyly, awkwardly, and consequently offensively, for fear of a momentary joker not considering, as i ought to have done, that the very people who would have joked upon me at first, would have esteemed me the more for it afterward." a good hint for us all. . _pulling out one's watch._ pulling out your watch in company, unasked, either at home or abroad, is a mark of ill-breeding. if at home, it appears as if you were tired of your company, and wished them to be gone; if abroad, as if the hours dragged heavily, and you wished to be gone yourself. if you want to know the time, withdraw; besides, as the taking what is called french leave was introduced, that, on one person's leaving the company, the rest might not be disturbed, looking at your watch does what that piece of politeness was designed to prevent. . _husband and wife._ a gentleman speaks of his wife in a mixed company as mrs. ----, and a lady of her husband as mr. ----. so one does not say in speaking to another, "your wife," or "your husband," but mrs. or mr. ----. among intimates, however, to say "my wife," or "my husband," is better, because less formal. let there be a _fitness_ in everything, whatever conventional rules you may violate. . _bowing vs. curtseying._ curtseying is obsolete. ladies now universally bow instead. the latter is certainly a more convenient, if not a more graceful form of salutation, particularly on the street. . _presents._ among friends, presents ought to be made of things of small value; or, if valuable, their worth should be derived from the style of the workmanship, or from some accidental circumstance, rather than from the inherent and solid richness. especially never offer to a lady a gift of great cost; it is in the highest degree indelicate, and looks as if you were desirous of placing her under an obligation to you, and of buying her good-will. the gifts made by ladies to gentlemen are of the most refined nature possible; they should be little articles not purchased, but deriving a priceless value as being the offspring of their gentle skill; a little picture from their pencil or a trifle from their needle. a present should be made with as little parade and ceremony as possible. if it is a small matter, a gold pencil-case, a thimble to a lady, or an affair of that sort, it should not be offered formally, but in an indirect way. emerson says: "rings and other jewels are not gifts, but apologies for gifts. the only gift is a portion of thyself. thou must bleed for me. therefore the poet brings his poem; the shepherd, his lamb; the farmer, his corn; the miner, a gem; the sailor, coral and shells; the painter, his picture; the girl, a handkerchief of her own sewing." . _snobbery._ when you hear a man insisting upon points of etiquette and fashion; wondering, for instance, how people can eat with steel forks and survive it, or what charms existence has for persons who dine at three without soup and fish, be sure that that individual is a snob. . _children._ show, but do not show off, your children to strangers. recollect, in the matter of children, how many are born every hour, each are almost as remarkable as yours in the eyes of its papa and mamma. footnotes: [b] "colonel lunettes." [c] "manners book." [d] "etiquette for gentlemen." [e] "how to talk: a pocket manual of conversation, public speaking, and debating." new york. fowler and wells. price cents. [f] la bruyère [g] "etiquette for gentlemen." [h] chesterfield. vii. the etiquette of occasions. great plenty, much formality, small cheer, and everybody out of his own sphere.--_byron._ i.--dinner parties. a young man or a young woman, unaccustomed to the settled observances of such occasions, can hardly pass through a severer ordeal than a formal dinner. its terrors, however, are often greatly magnified. such a knowledge of the principal points of table etiquette as you may acquire from this book, complete self-possession, habits of observation, and a fair share of practical good sense, will carry one safely if not pleasantly through it. you may entertain the opinion that such dinners, and formal parties in general, are tiresome affairs, and that there might be quite as much real courtesy and a great deal more enjoyment with less ceremony, and we may entirely agree with you; but what _is_, and not what _might be_, is the point to be elucidated. we are to take society as we find it. you may, as a general rule, decline invitations to dinner parties without any breach of good manners, and without giving offense, if you think that neither your enjoyment nor your interests will be promoted by accepting; or you may not go into what is technically called "society" at all, and yet you are liable, at a hotel, on board a steamer, or on some extraordinary occasion, to be placed in a position in which ignorance of dinner etiquette will be very mortifying and the information contained in this section be worth a hundred times the cost of the book. we now proceed to note the common routine of a fashionable dinner, as laid down in books and practiced in polite society. on some points usage is not uniform, but varies in different countries, and even in different cities in the same country, as well as in different circles in the same place. for this reason you must not rely wholly upon this or any other manners book, but, keeping your eyes open and your wits about you, _wait and see what others do_, and follow the prevailing mode. . _invitations._ invitations to a dinner are usually issued several days before the appointed time--the length of time being proportioned to the grandeur of the occasion. on receiving one, you should answer at once, addressing the lady of the house. you should either accept or decline unconditionally, as they will wish to know whom to expect, and make their preparations accordingly. . _dress._ you must go to a dinner party in "full dress." just what this is, is a question of time and place. strictly interpreted, it allows gentlemen but little choice. a black dress coat and trowsers, a black or white vest and cravat, white gloves, and pumps and silk stockings were formerly rigorously insisted upon. but the freedom-loving "spirit of the age" has already made its influence felt even in the realms of fashion, and a little more latitude is now allowed in most circles. the "american gentleman's guide" enumerates the essentials of a gentleman's dress for occasions of ceremony in general, as follows: "a stylish, well-fitting cloth coat, of some dark color and of unexceptionable quality, nether garments to correspond, or in warm weather, or under other suitable circumstances, white pants of a fashionable material and make, the finest and purest linen, embroidered in white, if at all; a cravat and vest of some dark or neutral tint, according to the physiognomical peculiarities of the wearer and the _prevailing mode_; an entirely fresh-looking, fashionable black hat, and carefully-fitted modish boots, white gloves, and a soft, thin, white handkerchief." a lady's "full dress" is not easily defined, and fashion allows her greater scope for the exercise of her taste in the selection of materials, the choice of colors, and the style of making. still, she must "be in the fashion." . _punctuality._ never allow yourself to be a minute behind the time. the dinner can not be served till all the guests have arrived. if it is spoiled through your tardiness, you are responsible not only to your inviter, but to his outraged guests. better be too late for the steamer or the railway train than for a dinner! . _going to the table._ when dinner is announced, the host rises and requests all to walk to the dining-room, to which he leads the way, having given his arm to the lady who, from age or any other consideration, is entitled to precedence. each gentleman offers his arm to a lady, and all follow in order. if you are not the principal guest, you must be careful not to offer your arm to the handsomest or most distinguished lady. . _arrangement of guests._ where rank or social position are regarded (and where are they not to some extent?), the two most distinguished gentlemen are placed next the mistress of the house, and the two most distinguished ladies next the master of the house. the right hand is especially the place of honor. if it is offered to you, you should not refuse it. it is one of the first and most difficult things properly to arrange the guests, and to place them in such a manner that the conversation may always be general during the entertainment. if the number of gentlemen is nearly equal to that of the ladies, we should take care to intermingle them. we should separate husbands from their wives, and remove near relations as far from one another as possible, because being always together they ought not to converse among themselves in a general party. . _duties of the host._ to perform faultlessly the honors of the table is one of the most difficult things in society; it might indeed be asserted, without much fear of contradiction, that no man has as yet ever reached exact propriety in his office as host. when he receives others, he must be content to forget himself; he must relinquish all desire to shine, and even all attempts to please his guests by conversation, and rather do all in his power to let them please one another. help ladies with a due appreciation of their delicacy, moderation, and fastidiousness of their appetites; and do not overload the plate of any person you serve. never pour gravy on a plate without permission. it spoils the meat for some persons. do not insist upon your guests partaking of particular dishes; never ask persons more than once, and never put anything by force upon their plates. it is extremely ill-bred, though extremely common, to press one to eat of anything. the host should never recommend or eulogize any particular dish; his guests will take it for granted that anything found at his table is excellent. the most important maxim in hospitality is to leave every one to his own choice and enjoyment, and to free him _from an ever-present sense of being entertained_. you should never send away your own plate until all your guests have finished. . _duties of the guests._ gentlemen must be assiduous but not officious in their attentions to the ladies. see that they lack nothing, but do not seem to watch them. if a "grace" is to be asked, treat the observance with respect. good manners require this, even if veneration fails to suggest it. soup will come first. _you must not decline it_; because nothing else can be served till the first course is finished, and to sit with nothing before you would be awkward. but you may eat as little of it as you choose. the host serves his left-hand neighbor first, then his right hand, and so on till all are served. take whatever is given you, and do _not_ offer it to your neighbor; and begin at once to eat. you must not suck soup into your month, blow it, or send for a second plate. the second course is fish, which is to be eaten with a fork, and without vegetables. the last part of this injunction does not, of course, apply to informal dinners, where fish is the principal dish. fish, like soup, is served but once. when you have eaten what you wish, you lay your fork on your plate, and the waiter removes it. the third course brings the principal dishes--roast and boiled meats, fowl, etc., which are followed by game. there are also side dishes of various kinds. at dessert, help the ladies near you to whatever they may require. serve strawberries with a spoon, but pass cherries, grapes, or peaches for each to help himself with his fingers. you need not volunteer to pare an apple or a peach for a lady, but should do so, of course, at her request, using her fork or some other than your own to hold it. we have said in our remarks on table manners in general, in a previous chapter, that in sending your plate for anything, you should leave your knife and fork upon it. for this injunction we have the authority of most of the books on etiquette, as well as of general usage. there seems also to be a reason for the custom in the fact, that to hold them in your hand would be awkward, and to lay them on the table-cloth might soil it; but the author of the "american gentleman's guide," whose acquaintance with the best usage is not to be questioned, says that they should be retained, and either kept together in the hand, or rested upon your bread, to avoid soiling the cloth. eat deliberately and decorously (there can be no harm in repeating this precept), masticate your food thoroughly, and _beware of drinking too much ice-water_. if your host is not a "temperance man," that is, one pledged to total abstinence, wine will probably be drunk. you can of course decline, but you must do so courteously, and without any reflection upon those who drink. you are not invited to deliver a temperance lecture. where finger-glasses are used, dip the tips of your fingers in the water and wipe them on your napkin; and wet a corner of the napkin and wipe your mouth. snobs sometimes wear gloves at table. it is not necessary that you should imitate them. the french fashion of having the principal dishes carved on a side-table, and served by attendants, is now very generally adopted at ceremonious dinners in this country, but few gentlemen who go into company at all can safely count upon never being called upon to carve, and the _art_ is well worth acquiring. ignorance of it sometimes places one in an awkward position. you will find directions on this subject in almost any cook-book; you will learn more, however, by watching an accomplished carver than in any other way. do not allow yourself to be too much engrossed in attending to the wants of the stomach, to join in the cheerful interchange of civilities and thoughts with those near you. we must leave a hundred little things connected with a dinner party unmentioned; but what we have said here, together with the general canons of eating laid down in chapter vi. (section , "table manners"), and a little observation, will soon make you a proficient in the etiquette of these occasions, in which, if you will take our advice, you will not participate very frequently. an _informal_ dinner, at which you meet two or three friends, and find more cheer and less ceremony, is much to be preferred. ii.--evening parties. evening parties are of various kinds, and more or less ceremonious, as they are more or less fashionable. their object is or should be social enjoyment, and the manners of the company ought to be such as will best promote it. a few hints, therefore, in addition to the general maxims of good behavior already laid down, will suffice. . _invitations._ having accepted an invitation to a party, never fail to keep your promise, and especially do not allow bad weather, of any ordinary character, to prevent your attendance. a married man should never accept an invitation from a lady in which his wife is not included. . _salutations._ when you enter a drawing-room where there is a party, you salute the lady of the house before speaking to any one else. even your most intimate friends are enveloped in an opake atmosphere until you have made your bow to your entertainer.[i] you then mix with the company, salute your acquaintances, and join in the conversation. you may converse freely with any person you meet on such an occasion, without the formality of an introduction. . _conversation._ when conversation is not general, nor the subject sufficiently interesting to occupy the whole company, they break up into different groups. each one converses with one or more of his neighbors on his right and left. we should, if we wish to speak to any one, avoid leaning upon the person who happens to be between. a gentleman ought not to lean upon the arm of a lady's chair, but he may, if standing, support himself by the back of it, in order to converse with the lady partly turned toward him.[j] the members of an invited family should never be seen conversing one with another at a party. . _french leave._ if you desire to withdraw before the party breaks up, take "french leave"--that is, go quietly out without disturbing any one, and without saluting even the mistress of the house, unless you can do so without attracting attention. the contrary course would interrupt the rest of the company, and call for otherwise unnecessary explanations and ceremony. . _sports and games._ among young people, and particularly in the country, a variety of sports or plays, as they are called, are in vogue. some of them are fitting only for children; but others are more intellectual, and may be made sources of improvement as well as of amusement. entering into the spirit of these sports, we throw off some of the restraints of a more formal intercourse; but they furnish no excuse for rudeness. you must not forget your politeness in your hilarity, or allow yourself to "take liberties," or lose your sense of delicacy and propriety. the selection of the games or sports belongs to the ladies, though any person may modestly propose any amusement, and ask the opinion of others in reference to it. the person who gives the party will exercise her prerogative to vary the play, that the interest may be kept up. if this were the proper place, we should enter an earnest protest against the promiscuous kissing which sometimes forms part of the performances in some of these games, but it is not our office to proscribe or introduce observances, but to regulate them. no true gentleman will _abuse_ the freedom which the laws of the game allows; but if required, will delicately kiss the hand, the forehead, or, at most, the cheek of the lady. a lady will offer her lips to be kissed only to a lover or a husband, and not to him in company. the french code is a good one: "give your hand to a gentleman to kiss, your cheek to a friend, but keep your lips for your lover." never prescribe any forfeiture which can wound the feelings of any of the company, and "pay" those which may be adjudged to you with cheerful promptness. . _dancing._ an evening party is often only another name for a ball. we may have as many and as weighty objections to dancing, as conducted at these fashionable parties, as to the formal dinners and rich and late suppers which are in vogue in the same circles, but this is not the place to discuss the merits of the quadrille or the waltz, but to lay down the etiquette of the occasions on which they are practiced. we condense from the various authorities before us the following code: . according to the hours now in fashion in our large cities, ten o'clock is quite early enough to present yourself at a dance. you will even then find many coming after you. in the country, you should go earlier. . draw on your gloves (white or yellow) in the dressing-room, and do not be for one moment with them off in the dancing-rooms. at supper take them off; nothing is more preposterous than to eat in gloves. . when you are sure of a place in the dance, you go up to a lady and ask her if she will _do you the honor_ to dance with you. if she answers that she is engaged, merely request her to name the earliest dance for which she is not engaged, and when she will do you the honor of dancing with you. . if a gentleman offers to dance with a lady, she should not refuse, unless for some _particular_ and _valid_ reason, in which case she can accept the next offer. but if she has no further objection than a temporary dislike or a piece of coquetry, it is a direct insult to him to refuse him and accept the next offer; besides, it shows too marked a preference for the latter. . when a woman is standing in a quadrille, though not engaged in dancing, a man not acquainted with her partner should not converse with her. . when an unpracticed dancer makes a mistake, we may apprize him of his error; but it would be very impolite to have the air of giving him a lesson. . unless a man has a very graceful figure, and can use it with great elegance, it is better for him to _walk_ through the quadrilles, or invent some gliding movement for the occasion. . at the end of the dance, the gentleman re-conducts the lady to her place, bows, and thanks her for the honor which she has conferred. she also bows in silence. . the master of the house should see that all the ladies dance. he should take notice particularly of those who seem to serve as _drapery_ to the walls of the ball-room (or _wall flowers_, as the familiar expression is), and should see that they are invited to dance. . ladies who dance much should be very careful not to boast before those who dance but little or not at all, of the great number of dances for which they are engaged in advance. they should also, without being perceived, recommend these less fortunate ladies to gentlemen of their acquaintance. . for any of the members, either sons or daughters, of the family at whose house the ball is given, to dance frequently or constantly, denotes decided ill-breeding; the ladies should not occupy those places in a quadrille which others may wish to fill, and they should, moreover, be at leisure to attend to the rest of the company; and the gentlemen should be entertaining the married women and those who do not dance. . never hazard taking part in a quadrille, unless you know how to dance tolerably; for if you are a novice, or but little skilled, you would bring disorder into the midst of pleasure. . if you accompany your wife to a dance, be careful not to dance with her, except perhaps the first set. . when that long and anxiously desiderated hour, the hour of supper, has arrived, you hand the lady you attend up or down to the supper-table. you remain with her while she is at the table, seeing that she has all that she desires, and then conduct her back to the dancing-rooms. . a gentleman attending a lady should invariably dance the first set with her, and may afterward introduce her to a friend for the purpose of dancing. . ball-room introductions cease with the object--viz.: dancing; nor subsequently anywhere else can a gentleman approach the lady by salutation or in any other mode without a re-introduction of a formal character. this code must be understood as applying in full only to fashionable dancing parties in the city, though most of the rules should be adhered to in any place. the good sense of the reader will enable him to modify them to suit any particular occasion. iii.--annual festivals. . _christmas._ at christmas people give parties and make presents. in europe, and in some portions of our own country, it is the most important festive occasion in the year. beyond the religious observances of the catholics, episcopalians, and some other sects, and the universal custom of making presents to all our relatives and intimate friends, and especially to the children, there is no matter of etiquette peculiar to christmas which it is necessary for us to note. we have already spoken of presents; and religious ceremonies will find a place in another chapter. . _the new year._ in new york, and some other cities and towns which have adopted its customs, every gentleman is expected to call on all his lady acquaintances on new year's day; and each lady on her part must be prepared properly to do the honors of her house. refreshments are usually provided in great profusion. the etiquette of these occasions does not differ materially from that of ceremonious morning calls, except that the entire day is devoted to them, and they may be extended beyond the limits of one's ordinary visiting list. the ladies may make their calls on the next day, or any time within the week. . _thanksgiving._ this is the great family festival of new england--the season of home gatherings. sons and daughters, scattered far and wide, then turn instinctively toward the old homestead, and the fireside of their childhood is again made glad by their presence and that of their little ones. etiquette requires fat turkeys, well roasted, a plenty of _pumpkin pies_, unbounded hospitality, genuine friendliness, and cheerful and thankful hearts. . _birthdays._ birthdays are sometimes made family festivals at which parties are given, and presents made to the one whose anniversary is celebrated. in france, these occasions are observed with great merry making and many felicitations and gifts. iv.--excursions and picnics. picnic excursions into the country are not occasions of ceremony, but call for the exercise of all one's real good nature and good breeding. on leaving the carriage, cars, or steamboat, gentlemen should of course relieve the ladies they attend of the shawls, baskets, etc., with which they may have provided themselves, and give them all necessary assistance in reaching the spot selected for the festivities. it is also their duty and their happiness to accompany them in their rambles, when it is the pleasure of the fair ones to require their attendance, but _not_ to be _obtrusive_. they may sometimes wish to be alone. if a lady chooses to seat herself upon the ground, you are not at liberty to follow her example unless she invites you to be seated. she must not have occasion to think of the possibility of any impropriety on your part. you are her servant, protector, and guard of honor. you will of course give her your hand to assist her in rising. when the sylvan repast is served, you will see that the ladies whose cavalier you have the honor to be, lack nothing. the ladies, social queens though they be, should not forget that every favor or act of courtesy and deference, by whoever shown, demands some acknowledgment on their part--a word, a bow, a smile, or at least a kind look. v.--weddings. we copy from one of the numerous manners books before us the following condensed account of the usual ceremonies of a formal wedding. a simpler, less ceremonious, and more private mode of giving legal sanction to an already existing union of hearts would be more to _our_ taste; but, as the french proverb has it, _chacun à son goût_.[k] for a stylish wedding, the lady requires a bridegroom, two bridesmaids, two groomsmen, and a parson or magistrate, her relatives and whatever friends of both parties they may choose to invite. for a formal wedding in the evening, a week's notice is requisite. the lady fixes the day. her mother or nearest female relation invites the guests. the evening hour is o'clock; but if the ceremony is private, and the happy couple to start immediately and alone, the ceremony usually takes place in the morning at eleven or twelve o'clock. if there is an evening party, the refreshments must be as usual on such occasions, with the addition of wedding cake, commonly a pound cake with rich frosting, and a fruit cake. the dress of the bride is of the purest white; her head is commonly dressed with orange flowers, natural or artificial, and white roses. she wears few ornaments, and none but such as are given her for the occasion. a white lace vail is often worn on the head. white long gloves and white satin slippers complete the costume. the dress of the bridegroom is simply the full dress of a gentleman, of unusual richness and elegance. the bridesmaids are dressed also in white, but more simply than the bride. at the hour appointed for the ceremony, the second bridesmaid and groomsman, when there are two, enter the room; then, first bridesmaid and groomsman; and lastly the bride and bridegroom. they enter, the ladies taking the arms of the gentlemen, and take seats appointed, so that the bride is at the right of the bridegroom, and each supported by their respective attendants. a chair is then placed for the clergyman or magistrate in front of the happy pair. when he comes forward to perform the ceremony, the bridal party rises. the first bridesmaid, at the proper time, removes the glove from the left hand of the bride; or, what seems to us more proper, both bride and bridegroom have their gloves removed at the beginning of the ceremony. in joining hands they take each other's right hand, the bride and groom partially turning toward each other. the wedding ring, of plain fine gold, provided beforehand by the groom, is sometimes given to the clergyman, who presents it. it is placed upon the third finger of the left hand. when the ceremony is ended, and the twain are pronounced one flesh, the company present their congratulations--the clergyman first, then the mother, the father of the bride, and the relations; then the company, the groomsmen acting as masters of ceremonies, bringing forward and introducing the ladies, who wish the happy couple joy, happiness, prosperity; but not exactly "many happy returns." the bridegroom takes an early occasion to thank the clergyman, and to put in his hand, at the same time, nicely enveloped, a piece of gold, according to his ability and generosity. the gentleman who dropped two half dollars into the minister's hands, as they were held out, in the prayer, was a little confused by the occasion. when a dance follows the ceremony and congratulations, the bride dances, first, with the first groomsman, taking the head of the room and the quadrille, and the bridegroom with the first bridesmaid; afterwards as they please. the party breaks up early--certainly by twelve o'clock.[l] the cards of the newly married couple are sent to those only whose acquaintance they wish to continue. no offense should be taken by those whom they may choose to exclude. send your card, therefore, with the lady's, to all whom you desire to include in the circle of your future acquaintances. the lady's card will have engraved upon it, below her name, "at home, ---- evening, at--o'clock." they should be sent a week previous to the evening indicated. vi.--funerals. when any member of a family is dead, it is customary to send intelligence of the misfortune to all who have been connected with the deceased in relations of business or friendship. the letters which are sent contain a special invitation to assist at the funeral. such a letter requires no answer. at an interment or funeral service, the members of the family are entitled to the first places. they are nearest to the coffin, whether in the procession or in the church. the nearest relations go in a full mourning dress. we are excused from accompanying the body to the burying-ground, unless the deceased be a relation or an intimate friend. if we go as far as the burying-ground, we should give the first carriage to the relations or most intimate friends of the deceased. we should walk with the head uncovered, silently, and with such a mien as the occasion naturally suggests. footnotes: [i] "etiquette for gentlemen." [j] madame celnart [k] each one to his taste. [l] "manners book." viii. the etiquette of places. to ladies always yield your seat, and lift your hat upon the street.--_uncle dan._ i.--on the street. nowhere has a man or a woman occasion more frequently to exercise the virtue of courtesy than on the street; and in no place is the distinction between the polite and the vulgar more marked. the following are some of the rules of street etiquette: except in a case of necessity, you should not stop a business man on the street during business hours. he may have appointments, and, in any event, his time is precious. if you must speak with him, walk on in his direction, or if you detain him, state your errand briefly, and politely apologize for the detention. do not allow yourself to be so absent-minded or absorbed in your business as not to recognize and salute your acquaintances on the street. you must not make the pressure of your affairs an excuse for rudeness. if you do not intend to stop, on meeting a friend, touch your hat, say "good-morning," or "i hope you are well," and pass on. if you stop, you may offer a gloved hand, if necessary, without apology. waiting to draw off a tight glove is awkward. in stopping to talk on the street, you should step aside from the human current. if you are compelled to detain a friend, when he is walking with a stranger, apologize to the stranger and release your friend as soon as possible. the stranger will withdraw, in order not to hear your conversation. never leave a friend suddenly on the street, either to join another or for any other reason, without a brief apology. in walking with gentlemen who are your superiors in age or station, give them the place of honor, by taking yourself the outer side of the pavement. when you meet a lady with whom you are acquainted, you should lift your hat, as you bow to her; but unless you are intimate friends, it is the lady's duty to give some sign of recognition first, as she might _possibly_ choose to "cut" you, and thus place you in a very awkward position; but unless you have forfeited all claims to respect, she certainly _should_ not do such a thing. in meeting a gentleman whom you know, walking with a lady with whom you are not acquainted, you are to bow with grave respect to her also.[m] if you are acquainted with both, you bow first to the lady, and then, less profoundly, to the gentleman. if your glove be dark colored, or your hand ungloved, do not offer to shake hands with a lady in full dress. if you wish to speak with a lady whom you meet on the street, turn and walk with her; but you should not accompany her far, except at her request, and should always lift your hat and bow upon withdrawing. be careful to avoid intrusion everywhere; and for this reason be very sure that such an addition to their party would be perfectly agreeable before you join a lady and gentleman who may be walking together; otherwise you might find yourself in the position of an "awkward third." in walking with ladies on the street, gentlemen will of course treat them with the most scrupulous _politeness_. this requires that you place yourself in that relative position in which you can best shield them from danger or inconvenience. you generally give them the wall side, but circumstances may require you to reverse this position. you must offer your arm to a lady with whom you are walking whenever her safety, comfort, or convenience may seem to require such attention on your part. at night, in taking a long walk in the country, or in ascending the steps of a public building, your arm should always be tendered. in walking with ladies or elderly people, a gentleman must not forget to accommodate his speed to theirs. in walking with _any_ person you should _keep step_ with military precision. if a lady with whom you are walking receives the salute of a person who is a stranger to you, you should return it, not for yourself, but for her. when a lady whom you accompany wishes to enter a shop, or _store_ (if we must use an americanism to explain a good english word), you should hold the door open and allow her to enter first, if practicable; for you must never pass before a lady anywhere, if you can avoid it, or without an apology. if a lady addresses an inquiry to a gentleman on the street, he will lift his hat, or at least touch it respectfully, as he replies. if he can not give the information required, he will express his regrets. "when tripping over the pavement," madame celnart says, "a lady should gracefully raise her dress a little above her ankle. with her right hand she should hold together the folds of her gown and draw them toward the right side. to raise the dress on both sides, and with both hands, is vulgar. this ungraceful practice can be tolerated only for a moment, when the mud is very deep." this was written in paris, and not in new york. american ladies dress too richly and elaborately for the street. you should dress well--neatly and in good taste, and in material adapted to the season; but the full costume, suitable to the carriage or the drawing-room, is entirely out of place in a shopping excursion, and does not indicate a refined taste; in other words, it looks _snobbish_. the out-door costume of ladies is not complete without a shawl or a mantle. shawls are difficult to wear gracefully, and few american ladies wear them well. you should not drag a shawl tight to your shoulders, and stick out your elbows, but fold it loosely and gracefully, so that it may fully envelop the figure. ii.--shopping. madame celnart has the following hints to the ladies on this important subject. having enjoined the most patient and forbearing courtesy on the part of the shopkeeper,[n] she proceeds: "every civility ought to be reciprocal, or nearly so. if the officious politeness of the shopkeeper does not require an equal return, he has at least a claim to civil treatment; and, finally, if this politeness proceed from interest, is this a reason why purchasers should add to the unpleasantness of his profession, and disregard violating the laws of politeness? many very respectable people allow themselves so many infractions in this particular, that i think it my duty to dwell upon it. "you should never say, _i want such a thing_, but _show me, if you please, that article_, or use some other polite form of address. if they do not show you at first the articles you desire, and you are obliged to examine a great number, apologize to the shopkeeper for the trouble you give him. if after all you can not suit yourself, renew your apologies when you go away. "if you make small purchases, say, _i am sorry for having troubled you for so trifling a thing_. if you spend a considerable time in the selection of articles, apologize to the shopkeeper who waits for you to decide. "if the price seems to you too high, and the shop has not fixed prices, ask an abatement in brief and civil terms, and without ever appearing to suspect the good faith of the shopkeeper. if he does not yield, do not enter into a contest with him, but go away, after telling him politely that you think you can obtain the article cheaper elsewhere, but if not, that you will give him the preference." iii.--at church. if you go to church, be in season, that you may not interrupt the congregation by entering after the services have commenced. the celebrated mrs. chapone said that it was a part of her religion not to disturb the religion of others. we may all adopt with profit that article of her creed. always remove your hat on entering a church. if you attend ladies, you open the door of the slip for them, allowing them to enter first. your demeanor should of course be such as becomes the place and occasion. if you are so unfortunate as to have no religious feelings yourself, you must respect those of others. it is the custom in some places for gentlemen who may be already in a slip or pew to deploy into the aisle, on the arrival of a lady who may desire admittance, allow her to enter, and then resume their seats. this is a very awkward and annoying maneuver. you should pay due respect to the observances of the church you attend. if you have conscientious scruples against kneeling in an episcopal or catholic church, you should be a little more conscientious, and stay away. good manners do not require young gentlemen to stand about the door of a church to see the ladies come out; and the ladies will excuse the omission of this mark of admiration. iv.--at places of amusement. gentlemen who attend ladies to the opera, to concerts, to lectures, etc., should endeavor to go early in order to secure good seats, unless, indeed, they have been previously secured, and to avoid the disagreeable crowd which they are liable to encounter if they go a little later. gentlemen _should_ take off their hats on entering _any_ public room (or dwelling either). they will, of course, do so if attending ladies, on showing them their seats. having taken your seats, remain quietly in them, and avoid, unless absolute necessity require it, incommoding others by crowding out and in before them. if obliged to do this, politely apologize for the trouble you cause them. to talk during the performance is an act of rudeness and injustice. you thus proclaim your own ill-breeding and invade the rights of others, who have paid for the privilege of hearing the performers, and not for listening to you. if you are in attendance upon a lady at any opera, concert, or lecture, you should retain your seat at her side; but if you have no lady with you, and have taken a desirable seat, you should, if need be, cheerfully relinquish it in favor of a lady, for one less eligible. be careful to secure your _libretto_ or opera book, concert bill or programme, before taking your seat. to the opera, ladies should wear opera hoods, which are to be taken off on entering. in this country, custom _permits_ the wearing of bonnets; but as they are (in our opinion) neither comfortable nor beautiful, we advise the ladies to dispense with their use whenever they can. gloves should be worn by ladies in church, and in places of public amusement. do not take them off to shake hands. great care should be taken that they are well made and fit neatly. v.--in a picture gallery. a gallery of paintings or sculpture is a temple of art, and he is little better than a barbarian who can enter it without a feeling of reverence for the presiding divinity of the place. loud talking, laughing, pushing before others who are examining a picture or statue, moving seats noisily, or any rude or discourteous conduct, seems like profanation in such a place. avoid them by all means, we entreat you; and though you wear your hat everywhere else, reverently remove it here. vi.--the presence. "the mode in which respect to the presence of a human being should be shown maybe left to custom. in the east, men take off their shoes before entering an apartment. we take off the hat, and add a verbal salutation. the mode is unimportant; it may vary with the humor of the moment; it may change with the changing fashion; but no one who respects himself, and has a proper regard for others, will omit to give _some_ sign that he recognizes an essential difference between a horse and a man, between a stable and a house."[o] vii.--­traveling. under no circumstances is courtesy more urgently demanded, or rudeness more frequently displayed, than in traveling. the infelicities and vexations which so often attend a journey seem to call out all the latent selfishness of one's nature; and the commonest observances of politeness are, we are sorry to say, sometimes neglected. in the scramble for tickets, for seats, for state-rooms, or for places at a public table, good manners are too frequently elbowed aside and trampled under foot. even our national deference for women is occasionally lost sight of in our headlong rush for the railway cars or the steamer. to avoid the scramble we have alluded to, purchase tickets and secure state-rooms in advance, if practicable, especially if you are accompanied by ladies, and, in any event, _be in good time_. in the cars or stage-coach never allow considerations of personal comfort or convenience to cause you to disregard for a moment the rights of your fellow-travelers, or forget the respectful courtesy due to woman. the pleasantest or most comfortable seats belong to the ladies, and no gentleman will refuse to resign such seats to them with a cheerful politeness. in a stage-coach you give them the back seat, unless they prefer another and take an outside seat yourself, if their convenience requires it. but a word to--_americans_ will be enough on this point. and what do good manners require of the ladies? that which is but a little thing to the bestower, but of priceless value to the receiver--_thanks_--a smile--a grateful look at least. is this too much? mr. arbiter, whom we find quoted in a newspaper, has some rather severe strictures on the conduct of american ladies. he says: "we boast of our politeness as a nation, and point out to foreigners, with pride, the alacrity with which americans make way for women in all public places. some love to call this chivalry. it is certainly an amiable trait of character, though frequently carried to an absurd extent. but what the men possess in this form of politeness the women appear to have lost. they never think of acknowledging, in any way, the kindness of the gentleman who gives up his seat, but settle themselves triumphantly in their new places, as if they were entitled to them by divine right." we are compelled to admit that there is at least an appearance of truth in this charge. we have had constant opportunities to observe the behavior of ladies in omnibuses and on board the crowded ferry-boats which ply between some of our large cities and their suburbs. we have, of course (as what gentleman has not?), relinquished our seats hundreds of times to ladies. _for the occasional bow or smile of acknowledgment, or_ _pleasant "thank you," which we have received in return, we have almost invariably been indebted to some fair foreigner._ we believe that american ladies are as polite _at heart_ as those of any other nation, but _they do not say it_. the fair readers of our little book will, we are sure, excuse us for these hints, since they are dictated by the truest and most reverent love for their sex, and a sincere desire to serve them. if in traveling you are thrown into the company of an invalid, or an aged person, or a woman with children and without a male protector, feelings of humanity, as well as sentiments of politeness, will dictate such kind attentions as, without being obtrusive, you can find occasion to bestow. you have no right to keep a window open for your accommodation, if the current of air thus produced annoy or endanger the health of another. there are a sufficient number of discomforts in traveling, at best, and it should be the aim of each passenger to lessen them as much as possible, and to cheerfully bear his own part. life is a journey, and we are all fellow-travelers. if in riding in an omnibus, or crossing a ferry with a friend, he wishes to pay for you, never insist on paying for yourself or for both. if he is before you, let the matter pass without remark, and return the compliment on another occasion. footnotes: [m] "colonel lunettes" [n] for hints on the importance of politeness as an element of success in business, see "how to do business." [o] james parton. ix. love and courtship. learn to win a lady's faith nobly, as the thing is high; bravely, as for life and death, with a loyal gravity. lead her from the festive boards; point her to the starry skies; guard her by your truthful words pure from courtship's flatteries.--_mrs. browning._ i.--a hint or two. to treat the subject of love and courtship in all its bearings would require a volume. it is with the etiquette of the tender passion that we have to do here. a few preliminary hints, however, will not be deemed out of place. boys often fall in love (and girls too, we believe) at a very tender age. some charming cousin, or a classmate of his sister, in the village school, weaves silken meshes around the throbbing heart of the young man in his teens. this is well. he is made better and happier by his boyish loves--for he generally has a succession of them, but they are seldom permanent. they are only beautiful foreshadowings of the deeper and more earnest love of manhood, which is to bind him to his _other self_ with ties which only death can sever. read ik marvel's "dream life." before a young man has reached the proper age to marry--say twenty-five, as an average--he ought to have acquired such a knowledge of himself, physically and mentally considered, and of the principles which ought to decide the choice of matrimonial partners and govern the relations of the sexes, as will enable him to set up a proper standard of female excellence, and to determine what qualities, physical and mental, should characterize the woman who is to be the angel of his home and the mother of his children. with this knowledge he is prepared to go into society and choose his mate, following trustingly the attractions of his soul. love is an affair of the heart, but the head should be its privy counselor. do not make up your mind to wait till you have acquired a fortune before you marry. you should not, however, assume the responsibilities of a family without a reasonable prospect of being able to maintain one. if you are established in business, or have an adequate income for the immediate requirements of the new relation, you may safely trust your own energy and self-reliance for the rest. women reach maturity earlier than men, and may marry earlier--say (as an average age), at twenty. the injunction, "know thyself," applies with as much emphasis to a woman as to a man. her perceptions are keener than ours, and her sensibilities finer, and she may trust more to _instinct_, but she should add to these natural qualifications a thorough knowledge of her own physical and mental constitution, and of whatever relates to the requirements of her destiny as wife and mother. the importance of sound _health_ and _a perfect development_, can not be overrated. _without these you are_ never _fit to marry_.[p] having satisfied yourself that you really love a woman--be careful, as you value your future happiness and hers, not to make a _mistake_ in this matter--you will find occasion to manifest, in a thousand ways, your preference, by means of those tender but delicate and deferential attentions which love always prompts. "let the heart speak." the heart you address will understand its language. be earnest, sincere, self-loyal, and manly in this matter above all others. let there be no nauseous flattery and no sickly sentimentality leave the former to fops and the latter to beardless school-boys. though women do not "propose"--that is, as a general rule--they "make love" to the men none the less; and it is right. the divine attraction is mutual, and should have its proper expression on both sides. if you are attracted toward a man who seems to you an embodiment of all that is noble and manly, you do injustice both to him and yourself if you do not, in some way entirely consistent with maiden modesty, allow him to _see_ and _feel_ that he pleases you. but _you_ do not need our instructions, and we will only hint, in conclusion, that forwardness, flirting, and a too _obtrusive_ manifestation of preference are _not_ agreeable to men of sense. as a man should be _manly_, so should a woman be _womanly_ in her love. ii.--observances. . _particular attentions._ avoid even the slightest appearance of _trifling_ with the feelings of a woman. a female coquette is bad enough. a male coquette ought to be banished from society. let there be a clearly perceived, if not an easily defined, distinction between the attentions of common courtesy or of friendship and those of love. all misunderstanding on this point can and must be avoided. the particular attentions you pay to the object of your devotion should not make you rude or uncivil to other women. every woman is _her_ sister, and should be treated with becoming respect and attention. your special attentions to her in society should not be such as to make her or you the subject of ridicule. make no public exhibition of your endearments. . _presents._ if you make presents, let them be selected with good taste, and of such cost as is fully warranted by your means. your mistress will not love you better for any extravagance in this matter. the value of a gift is not to be estimated in dollars and cents. a lady of good sense and delicacy will discourage in her lover all needless expenditure in ministering to her gratification, or in proof of his devotion. . _confidants._ lovers usually feel a certain need of confidants in their affairs of the heart. in general, they should be of the opposite sex. a young man may with profit open his heart to his mother, an elder sister, or a female friend considerably older than himself. the young lady may with equal advantage make a brother, an uncle, or some good middle-aged married man the repository of her love secrets, her hopes, and her fears. . _declarations._ we shall make no attempt to prescribe a form for "popping the question." each must do it in his own way; but let it be clearly understood and admit no evasion. a single word--yes, less than that, on the lady's part, will suffice to answer it. if the carefully studied phrases which you have repeated so many times and so fluently to yourself, will persist in sticking in your throat and choking you, put them correctly and neatly on a sheet of the finest white note paper, inclosed in a fine but plain white envelope (see "how to write"), seal it handsomely with _wax_, address and direct it carefully, and find some way to convey it to her hand. the lady's answer should be frank and unequivocal, revealing briefly and modestly her real feelings and consequent decision. . _asking "pa."_ asking the consent of parents or guardians is, in this country, where women claim a right to choose for themselves, a mere form, and may often be dispensed with. the lady's wishes, however, should be complied with in this as in all other matters. and if consent is refused? this will rarely happen. if it does, there is a remedy, and we should have a poor opinion of the love or the spirit of the woman who would hesitate to apply it. if she is of age, she has a legal as well as a moral right to bestow her love and her hand upon whom she pleases. if she does not love you well enough to do this, _at any sacrifice_, you should consider the refusal of her friends a very fortunate occurrence. if she is not of age, the legal aspect of the affair may be different, but, at worst, she can wait until her majority puts her in possession of all her rights. . _refusals._ if a lady finds it necessary to say "no" to a proposal, she should do it in the kindest and most considerate manner, so as not to inflict unnecessary pain; but her answer should be definite and decisive, and the gentleman should at once withdraw his suit. if ladies will my "no" when they mean "yes," to a sincere and earnest suitor, they must suffer the consequences. . _engagement._ the "engaged" need not take particular pains to proclaim the nature of the relation in which they stand to each other, neither should they attempt or desire to conceal it. their intercourse with each other should be frank and confiding, but prudent, and their conduct in reference to other persons of the opposite sex, such as will not give occasion for a single pang of jealousy. of the "getting ready," which follows the engagement, on the part of the lady, our fair readers know a great deal more than we could tell them. . _breaking off._ engagements made in accordance with the simple and brief directions contained in the first section of this chapter, will seldom be broken off. if such a painful _necessity_ occurs, let it be met with firmness, but with delicacy. if you have made a _mistake_, it is infinitely better to correct it at the last moment than not at all. a _marriage_ is not so easily "broken off." on breaking off an engagement, all letters, presents, etc., should be returned, and both parties should consider themselves pledged to the most honorable and delicate conduct in reference to the whole matter, and to the private affairs of each other, a knowledge of which their former relation may have put into their possession. . _marriage._ it devolves upon the lady to fix the day. she will hardly disregard the stereotyped request of the impatient lover to make it an "early" one; but she knows best how soon the never-to-be-neglected "preparations" can be made. for the wedding ceremonies see chapter vii. a few hints to husbands and wives may be found in chapter v. footnote: [p] see "physical perfection; or how to acquire and retain beauty, grace, and strength," now ( ) in the course of preparation. x. parliamentary etiquette. the object of a meeting for deliberation is, of course, to obtain a free expression of opinion and a fair decision of the questions discussed. without rules of order this object would, in most cases, be utterly defeated; for there would be no uniformity in the modes of proceeding, no restraint upon indecorous or disorderly conduct, no protection to the rights and privileges of members, no guarantee against the caprices and usurpations of the presiding officer, no safeguard against tyrannical majorities, nor any suitable regard to the rights of the minority.--_mcelligott._ i.--courtesy in debate. the fundamental principles of courtesy, so strenuously insisted upon throughout this work, must be rigorously observed in the debating society, lyceum, legislative assembly, and wherever questions are publicly debated. in fact, we have not yet discovered _any_ occasion on which a gentleman is justified in being anything less than--a gentleman. in a paragraph appended to the constitution and by-laws of a new york debating club, members are enjoined to treat each other with delicacy and respect, conduct all discussions with candor, moderation, and open generosity, avoid all personal allusions and sarcastic language calculated to wound the feelings of a brother, and cherish concord and good fellowship. the spirit of this injunction should pervade the heart of every man who attempts to take part in the proceedings of any deliberative assembly. ii.--origin of the parliamentary code. the rules of order of our state legislatures, and of other less important deliberative bodies, are, in almost all fundamental points, the same as those of the national congress, which, again, are derived, in the main, from those of the british parliament, the differences which exist growing out of differences in government and institutions. it is in allusion to its origin that the code of rules and regulations thus generally adopted is often called "the common code of parliamentary law." iii.--rules of order. . _motions._ a deliberative body being duly organized, motions are in order. the party moving a resolution, or making a motion in its simplest form, introduces it either with or without remarks, by saying: "mr. president, i beg leave to offer the following resolution," or "i move that," etc. a motion is not debatable till seconded. the member seconding simply says: "i second that motion." the resolution or motion is then stated by the chairman, and is open for debate. . _speaking._ a member wishing to speak on a question, resolution, or motion, must rise in his place and respectfully address his remarks to the chairman or president, _confining himself to the question, and avoiding personality_. should more than one member rise at the same time, the chairman must decide which is entitled to the floor. no member must speak more than once till every member wishing to speak shall have spoken. in debating societies (and it is for their benefit that we make this abstract) it is necessary to define not only how many times, but how long at each time a member may speak on a question. . _submitting a question._ when the debate or deliberation upon a subject appears to be at a close, the presiding officer simply asks, "is the society [assembly, or whatever the body may be] ready for the question?" or, "are you ready for the question?" if no one signifies a desire further to discuss or consider the subject, he then submits the question in due form. . _voting._ the voting is generally by "ayes and noes," and the answers on both sides being duly given, the presiding officer announces the result, saying, "the ayes have it," or, "the noes have it," according as he finds one side or the other in the majority. if there is a doubt in his mind which side has the larger number, he says, "the ayes _appear_ to have it," or, "the noes _appear_ to have it," as the case may be. if there is no dissent, he adds, "the ayes _have_ it," or, "the noes _have_ it." but should the president be unable to decide, or if his decision be questioned, and a division of the house be called for, it is his duty immediately to divide or arrange the assembly as to allow the votes on each side to be accurately counted; and if the members are equally divided, the president must give the casting vote. it is the duty of every member to vote; but in some deliberative bodies a member may be excused at his own request. sometimes it is deemed advisable to record the names of members in connection with the votes they give, in which case the roll is called by the secretary, and each answers "yes" or "no," which is noted or marked opposite his name. . _a quorum._ a quorum is such a number of members as may be required, by rule or statute, to be present at a meeting in order to render its transactions valid or legal. . _the democratic principle._ all questions, unless their decision be otherwise fixed by law, are determined by a majority of votes. . _privileged questions._ there are certain motions which are allowed to supersede a question already under debate. these are called privileged questions. the following are the usually recognized privileged questions: . _adjournment._--a motion to adjourn is always in order, and takes precedence of all others; but it must not be entertained while a member is speaking, unless he give way for that purpose, nor while a vote is in progress. it is not debatable, and can not be amended. . _to lie on the table._--a motion to lay a subject on the table--that is, to set it aside till it is the pleasure of the body to resume its consideration--generally takes precedence of all others, except the motion to adjourn. it can neither be debated nor amended. . _the previous question._--the intention of the previous question is to arrest discussion and test at once the sense of the meeting. its form is, "shall the main question now be put?" it is not debatable, and can not be amended. an affirmative decision precludes all further debate on the main question. the effect of a negative decision, _unless otherwise determined by a special rule_, is to leave the main question and all amendments just as it found them. . _postponement._--a motion to postpone the consideration of a question indefinitely, which is equivalent to setting it aside altogether, may be amended by inserting a certain day. it is not debatable. . _commitment._--a motion to commit is made when a question, otherwise admissible, is presented in an objectionable or inconvenient form. if there be no standing committee to which it can be properly submitted, a select committee may be raised for the purpose. it may be amended. . _amendment._--the legitimate use of a motion to amend is to correct or improve the original motion or resolution; but a motion properly before an assembly may be altered in _any_ way; even so as to turn it entirely from its original purpose, unless some rule or law shall exist to prevent this subversion. an amendment may be amended, but here the process must cease. an amendment must of course be put to vote before the original question. a motion to amend holds the same rank as the previous question and indefinite postponement, and that which is moved first must be put first. it may be superseded, however, by a motion to postpone to a certain day, or a motion to commit. . _orders of the day._--subjects appointed for a specified time are called orders of the day, and a motion for them takes precedence of all other business, except a motion to adjourn, or a question of privilege. . _questions of privilege._--these are questions which involve the rights and privileges of individual members, or of the society or assembly collectively. they take precedence over all other propositions, except a motion to adjourn. . _questions of order._--in case of any breach of the rules of the society or body, any member may rise to the point of order, and insist upon its due enforcement; but in case of a difference of opinion whether a rule has been violated or not, the question must be determined before the application of the rule can be insisted upon. such a question is usually decided upon by the presiding officer, without debate; but any member may appeal from his decision, and demand a vote of the house on the matter. a question of order is debatable, and the presiding officer, contrary to rule in other cases, may participate in the discussion. . _reading of papers._--when papers or documents of any kind are laid before a deliberative assembly, every member has a right to have them read before he can be required to vote upon them. they are generally read by the secretary, on the reading being called for, without the formality of a vote. . _withdrawal of a motion._--unless there be a rule to that effect, a motion once before the assembly can not be withdrawn without a vote of the house, on a motion to allow its withdrawal. . _the suspension of rules._--when anything is proposed which is forbidden by a special rule, it must be preceded by a motion for the suspension of the rule, which, if there be no standing rule to the contrary, may be carried by a majority of votes; but most deliberative bodies have an established rule on this subject, requiring a fixed proportion of the votes--usually two thirds. . _the motion to reconsider._--the intention of this is to enable an assembly to revise a decision found to be erroneous. the time within which a motion to reconsider may be entertained is generally fixed by a special rule; and the general rule is, that it must emanate from some member who voted with the majority. in congress, a motion to reconsider takes precedence of all other motions, except the motion to adjourn. . _order of business._ in all permanently organized bodies there should be an order of business, established by a special rule or by-law; but where no such rule or law exists, the president, unless otherwise directed by a vote of the assembly, arranges the business in such order as he may think most desirable. the following is the order of business of the new york debating club, referred to in a previous section. it may be easily so modified as to be suitable for any similar society: . call to order. . calling the roll. . reading the minutes of previous meeting. . propositions for membership. . reports of special committee. . balloting for candidates. . reports of standing committee. . secretary's report. . treasurer's report. . reading for the evening. . recitations for the evening. . candidates initiated. . unfinished business. . debate. . new business. . adjournment. . _order of debate._ . a member having got the floor, is entitled to be heard to the end, or till the time fixed by rule has expired; and all interruptions, except a call to order, are not only out of order, but rude in the extreme. . a member who temporarily yields the floor to another, is generally permitted to resume as soon as the interruption ceases, but he can not claim to do so as a right. . it is neither in order nor in good taste to designate members by name in debate, and they must in no case be directly addressed. such forms as, "the gentleman who has just taken his seat," or, "the member on the other side of the house," etc., may be made use of to designate persons. . every speaker is bound to confine himself to the question. this rule is, however, very liberally interpreted in most deliberative assemblies. . every speaker is bound to avoid personalities, and to exercise in all respects a courteous and gentlemanly deportment. principles and measures are to be discussed, and not the motives or character of those who advocate them.[q] footnote: [q] the foregoing rules of order have been mainly condensed from that excellent work, "the american debater," by james n. mcelligott, ll.d., to which the reader is referred for a complete exposition of the whole subject of debating. published by ivison and phinney, new york, and for sale by fowler and wells. xi. miscellaneous matters. these, some will say, are little things. it is true, they are little but it is equally clear that they are necessary things.--_chesterfield._ i.--republican distinctions. we have defined equality in another place. we fully accept the doctrine as there set forth. we have no respect for mere conventional and arbitrary distinctions. hereditary titles command no deference from us. lords and dukes are entitled to no respect simply because they are lords and dukes. if they are really _noble men_, we honor them accordingly. their titles are mere social fictions. true republicanism requires that every man shall have an equal chance--that every man shall be free to become as unequal as he can. no man should be valued the less or the more on account of his grandfather, his position, his possessions, or his occupation. the man should be superior to the accidents of his birth, and should take that rank which is due to his merit.[r] the error committed by our professedly republican communities consists, not in the recognition of classes and grades of rank, but in placing them, as they too often do, on artificial and not on natural grounds. we have had frequent occasion, in the preceding pages, to speak of superiors and inferiors. we fully recognize the relation which these words indicate. it is useless to quarrel with nature, who has nowhere in the universe given us an example of the absolute, unqualified, dead-level equality which some pseudo-reformers have vainly endeavored to institute among men. such leveling is neither possible nor desirable. harmony is born of difference, and not of sameness. we have in our country a class of toad-eaters who delight in paying the most obsequious homage to fictitious rank of every kind. a vulgar millionaire of the fifth avenue, and a foreign adventurer with a meaningless title, are equally objects of their misplaced deference. losing sight of their own manhood and self-respect, they descend to the most degrading sycophancy. we have little hope of benefiting them. they are "joined to their idols; let them alone." but a much larger class of our people are inclined to go to the opposite extreme, and ignore veneration, in its human aspect, altogether. they have no reverence for anybody or anything. this class of people will read our book, and, we trust, profit by its well-meant hints. we respect them, though we can not always commend their manners. they have independence and manliness, but fail to accord due respect to the manhood of others. it is for their special benefit that we leave touched with considerable emphasis on the deference due to age and _genuine_ rank, from whatever source derived. your townsman, mr. dollarmark, has no claim on you for any special token of respect, simply because he inherited half a million, which has grown in his hands to a million and a half, while you can not count half a thousand, or because he lives in his own palatial mansion, and you in a hired cottage; but your neighbor, mr. anvil, who, setting out in life, like yourself, without a penny, has amassed a little fortune by his own unaided exertions, and secured a high social position by his manliness, integrity, and good breeding, is entitled to a certain deference on your part--a recognition of his merits and his superiority. mr. savant, who has gained distinction for himself and conferred honor on his country by his scientific discoveries, and your aged friend mr. goodman, who, though a stranger to both wealth and fame, is drawing toward the close of a long and useful life, during which he has helped to build up and give character to the place in which he lives, have, each in his own way, _earned_ the right to some token of deference from those who have not yet reached an equally elevated position. it is not for birth, or wealth, or occupation, or any other accidental circumstance, that we ask reverence, but for _inherent nobility wrought out in life_. this is what should give men rank and titles in a republic. your hired man, patrick, may be your inferior, but it is not because he is your hired man. another man, who is your _superior_ in every way, may stand in the same business relation to you. he may sell you certain stipulated services for a stipulated amount of money; but you bargain for no deference that your real social position and character do not call for from him. he, and not you, may be entitled to the "wall side," and to precedence everywhere. ii.--city and country. the words _civil_ and _civilized_ are derived from the latin _civitas_ (ital., _città_), a city, and _polite_, from the greek [greek: polis] (_polis_), a city; because cities are the first to become civilized, or _civil_, and polite, or _polished_ (latin, _polire_). they are still, as a general rule, the home of the most highly cultivated people, as well as of the rudest and most degraded, and unquestioned arbiters of fashion and social observances. for this reason the rules of etiquette laid down in this and all other works on the subject of manners, are calculated, as the astronomers say, for the meridian of the city. the observances of the country are borrowed from the city, and modified to suit the social condition and wants of the different localities. this must always be borne in mind, and your behavior regulated accordingly. the white or pale yellow gloves, which you must wear during the whole evening at a fashionable evening party in the city, under pain of being set down as unbearably vulgar, would be very absurd appendages at a social gathering at a farm-house in the country. none but a _snob_ would wear them at such a place. so with other things. iii.--imported manners. n. p. willis says, "we should be glad to see a distinctly american school of good manners, in which all useless etiquette were thrown aside, but every politeness adopted or invented which could promote sensible and easy exchanges of good-will and sociability. good sense and consideration for others should be the basis of every usage of polite life that is worth regarding. indeed, we have long thought that our country was old enough to adopt measures and etiquettes of its own, based, like all other politeness, upon benevolence and common sense. to get rid of imported etiquette is the first thing to do for american politeness." this is an important truth well stated. we have had enough of mere imported conventionalism in manners. our usages should not be english or french usages, further than english and french usages are founded on universal principles. politeness is the same everywhere and always, but the forms of etiquette must change with times and places; for an observance which may be proper and useful in london or paris, may be abundantly absurd in new york. iv.--fictitious titles. in answer to a correspondent who inquires whether an american citizen should address a european nobleman by his title, _life illustrated_ says: "we answer, unhesitatingly, no. most of the european titles are purely fictitious, as well as ridiculous. the duke of northumberland, for example, has nothing in particular to do with northumberland, nor does he exercise dukeship (or leadership) over anything except his private estate. the title is a perfect absurdity; it means nothing whatever; it is a mere nickname; and mr. percy is a fool for permitting himself to be addressed as 'my lord duke,' and 'your grace.' indeed, even in england, gentlemen use those titles very sparingly, and servants alone habitually employ then. american citizens who are thrown, in their travels, or in their intercourse with society, into communication with persons bearing titles, may treat them with all due respect without gracing or my-lording them. in our opinion, they should do so. and we have faith enough in the good sense of the english people to believe that the next generation, or the next but one, will see a general abandonment of fictitious titles by the voluntary action of the very people who hold them. at the same time, we are inclined to think that the bestowment of real titles--titles which mean something, titles given in recognition of distinguished worth and eminent services, titles not hereditary--will be one of the most cherished prerogatives of the enlightened states of the good time coming. the first step, however, must be the total abolition of all titles which are fictitious and hereditary." v.--a mirror for certain men. the following rather broad hints to certain bipeds who _ought_ to be gentlemen, were clipped from some newspaper. we are sorry we do not know to whom to credit the article: "who can tell why women are expected, on pain of censure and avoidance, to conform to a high standard of behavior, while men are indulged in another a great deal lower? we never could fully understand why men should be tolerated in the chewing of tobacco, in smoking and in spitting everywhere almost, and at all times, whereas a woman can not do any of these things without exciting aversion and disgust. why ought a man to be allowedly so self-indulgent, putting his limbs and person in all manner of attitudes, however uncouth and distasteful, merely because such vulgarities yield him temporary eases, while a woman is always required to preserve an attitude, if not of positive grace, at least of decency and propriety, from which if she departs, though but for an instant, she forfeits respect, and is instantly branded as a low creature! "can any one say why a man when he has the tooth-ache, or is called to suffer in any other way, should be permitted, as a matter of course, to groan and bellow, and vent his feelings very much in the style of an animal not endowed with reason, while a woman similarly suffering must bear it in silence and decorum? why, should men, as a class, habitually, and as a matter of right, boldly wear the coarsest qualities of human nature on the outside, and swear and fight, and beastify themselves, so that they are obliged to be put into separate pens in the cars on railroads, and at the dépôts, while woman must appear with an agreeable countenance, if not in smiles, even when the head, or perhaps the heart, aches, and are expected to permit nothing ill-tempered, disagreeable, or even unhappy to appear outwardly, but to keep all these concealed in their own bosoms to suffer as they may, lest they might otherwise lessen the cheerfulness of others? "these are a few suggestions only among many we would hint to the stronger and more exciting sex to be reflected on for the improvement of their tastes and manners. in the mirror thus held up before them, they can not avoid observing the very different standards by which the behavior of the two sexes is constantly regulated. if any reason can be assigned why one should always be a lady, and the other hardly ever a gentleman, we hope it will be done." vi.--washington's code of manners. every action ought to be with some sign of respect to those present. be no flatterer; neither play with any one who delights not to be played with. read no paper or book in company. come not near the papers or books of another when he is writing. let your countenance be cheerful; but in serious matters be grave. let your discourse with others, on matters of business, be short. it is good manners to let others speak first. when a man does all he can, do not blame him, though he succeeds not well. take admonitions thankfully. be not too hasty to receive lying reports to the injury of another. let your dress be modest, and consult your condition. _play not the peacock by looking vainly at yourself._ it is better to be alone than in bad company. let your conversation be without malice or envy. urge not your friend to discover a secret. break not a jest where none take pleasure in mirth. gaze not on the blemishes of others. when another speaks, be attentive. vii.--marked passages. on turning over the leaves of the various works on etiquette which we have had occasion to consult in the preparation of this little manual, we have marked with our pencil a large number of passages which seemed to us to embody important facts or thoughts, with the hope of being able to weave them into our work, each in its appropriate place. some of them we have made use of according to our original intention; a few others not elsewhere used, we purpose to throw together here without any attempt at classification. . _our social uniform._ the universal partiality of our countrymen for _black_, as the color of dress clothes, at least, is frequently remarked upon by foreigners. among the best dressed men on the continent, as well as in england, black, through not confined to the clergy, is in much less general use than here. they adopt the darker shades of blue, brown, and green, and for undress almost as great diversity of colors as of fabrics. . _a hint to the ladies._ don't make your rooms gloomy. furnish them for light and let them have it. daylight is very cheap, and candle or gas light you need not use often. if your rooms are dark, all the effect of furniture, pictures, walls, and carpets is lost. finally, if you have beautiful things, make them useful. the fashion of having a nice parlor, and then shutting it up all but three or four days in the year, when you have company; spending your own life in a mean room, shabbily furnished, or an unhealthy basement, to save your things, is the meanest possible economy. go a little further--shut up your house, and live in a pig-pen! the use of nice and beautiful things is to act upon your spirit--to educate you and make you beautiful. . _another._ don't put your cards around the looking-glass, unless in your private boudoir. if you wish to display them, keep them in a suitable basket or vase on the mantle or center-table. . _an obliging disposition._ polite persons are necessarily obliging. a smile is always on their lips, an earnestness in their countenance, when we ask a favor of them. they know that to render a service with a bad grace, is in reality not to render it at all. if they are obliged to refuse a favor, they do it with mildness and delicacy; they express such feeling regret that they still inspire us with gratitude; in short, their conduct appears so perfectly natural that it really seems that the opportunity which is offered them of obliging us, is obliging themselves; and they refuse all our thanks, without affectation or effort. . _securing a home._ let me, as a somewhat scrutinizing observer of the varying phases of social life, in our own country especially, enter my earnest protest against the practice so commonly adopted by newly-married persons, of _boarding_, in place of at once establishing for themselves the distinctive and ennobling prerogatives of home. language and time would alike fail me in an endeavor to set forth the manifold evils inevitably growing out of this fashionable system. take the advice of an old man, who has tested theories by prolonged experience, and at once establish your penates within four walls, and under a roof that will, at times, exclude all who are not properly denizens of your household, upon assuming the rights and obligations of married life. do not be deterred from this step by the conviction that you can not shrine your home deities upon pedestals of marble. _cover their bases with flowers_--god's free gift to all--and the plainest support will suffice for them if it be but _firm_. . _taste vs. fashion._ a lady should never, on account of economy, wear either what she deems an ugly or an ungraceful garment; such garments never put her at her ease, and are neglected and cast aside long before they have done her their true service. we are careful only of those things which suit us, and which we believe adorn us, and the mere fact of believing that we look well, goes a great way toward making us do so. fashion should be sacrificed to taste, or, at best, followed at a distance; it does not do to be _entirely out_, nor _completely in_, what is called "fashion," many things being embraced under that term which are frivolous, unmeaning, and sometimes meretricious. . _special claims._ there are persons to whom a lady or gentleman should be especially polite. all elderly persons, the unattractive, the poor, and those whose dependent positions may cause them to fear neglect. the gentleman who offers his arm or gives his time to an old lady, or asks a very plain one to dance, or attends one who is poorly dressed, never looses in others' estimation or his own. . _propriety of deportment._ propriety of deportment is the valuable result of a knowledge of one's self, and of respect for the rights of others; it is a feeling of the sacrifices which are imposed on self-esteem by our social relations; it is, in short, a sacred requirement of harmony and affection. . _false pride._ false pride and false dignity are very mean qualities. a true gentleman will do anything proper for him to do. he can soil his hands or use his muscles when there is occasion. the truest gentleman is more likely to carry home a market-basket, or a parcel, or to wheel a barrow through broadway, than many a conceited little snob of a shop-boy. . _the awkwardness of being "dressed."_ when dressed for company, strive to appear as easy and natural as if you were in undress. nothing is more distressing to a sensitive person, or more ridiculous to one gifted with an _esprit moquer_ [a disposition to "make fun"], than to see a lady laboring under the consciousness of a fine gown; or a gentleman who is stiff, awkward, and ungainly in a brand-new coat. footnote: [r] _life illustrated._ xii. maxims from chesterfield. the pages of the "noble oracle" are replete with sound advice, which all may receive with profit. genuine politeness is the same always and everywhere.--_madame bienceance._ . _cheerfulness and good humor._ it is a wonderful thing that so many persons, putting in claims to good breeding, should think of carrying their spleen into company, and entertaining those with whom they converse with a history of their pains, head-aches, and ill-treatment. this is, of all others, the meanest help to social happiness; and a man must have a very mean opinion of himself, who, on having detailed his grievances, is accosted by asking the news. mutual good-humor is a dress in which we ought to appear, whenever we meet; and we ought to make no mention of ourselves, unless it be in matters wherein our friends ought to rejoice. there is no real life but cheerful life; therefore valetudinarians should be sworn before they enter into company not to say a word of themselves until the meeting breaks up. . _the art of pleasing._ the art of pleasing is a very necessary one to possess, but a very difficult one to acquire. it can hardly be reduced to rules; and your own good sense and observation will teach you more of it than i can. do as you would be done by, is the surest method that i know of pleasing. observe carefully what pleases you in others, and probably the same things in you will please others. if you are pleased with the complaisance and attention of others to you, depend upon it the same complaisance and attention, on your part, will equally please them. take the tone of the company you are in, and do not pretend to give it; be serious or gay, as you find the present humor of the company. this is an attention due from every individual to the majority. . _adaptation of manners._ ceremony resembles that base coin which circulates through a country by the royal mandate. it serves every purpose of real money at home, but is entirely useless if carried abroad. a person who should attempt to circulate his native trash in another country would be thought either ridiculous or culpable. he is truly well-bred who knows when to value and when to despise those national peculiarities which are regarded by some with so much observance. a traveler of taste at once perceives that the wise are polite all the world over, but that fools are polite only at home. . _bad habits._ keep yourself free from strange tricks or habits, such as thrusting on your tongue, continually snapping your fingers, rubbing your hands, sighing aloud, gaping with a noise like a country fellow that has been sleeping in a hay-loft, or indeed with any noise; and many others that i have noticed before. these are imitations of the manners of the mob, and are degrading to a gentleman. it is rude and vulgar to lean your head back and destroy the appearance of fine papered walls. . _do what you are about._ _hoc age_ was a maxim among the romans, which means, "do what you are about, and do that only." a little mind is hurried by twenty things at once; but a man of sense does but one thing at a time, and resolves to excel in it; for whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well. therefore, remember to give yourself up entirely to the thing you are doing, be it what it may, whether your book or your play; for if you have a right ambition, you will desire to excel all boys of your age, at cricket, at trap-ball, as well as in learning. . _people who never learn._ there have been people who have frequented the first companies all their lifetime, and yet have never divested themselves of their natural stiffness and awkwardness; but have continued as vulgar as if they were never out of a servants' hall. this has been owing to carelessness, and a want of attention to the manners and behavior of others. . _conformity to local manners._ civility, which is a disposition to accommodate and oblige others, is essentially the same in every country; but good-breeding, as it is called, which is the manner of exerting that disposition, is different in almost every country, and merely local; and every man of sense imitates and conforms to that local good-breeding or the place which he is at. . _how to confer favors._ the greatest favors may be done so awkwardly and bunglingly as to offend; and disagreeable things may be done so agreeably as almost to oblige. endeavor to acquire this great secret. it exists, it is to be found, and is worth a great deal more than the grand secret of the alchymists would be, if it were, as it is not, to be found. . _fitness._ one of the most important points of life is decency, which means doing what is proper, and where it is proper; for many things are proper at one time, and in one place, that are extremely improper in another. read men, therefore, yourself, not in books, but in nature. adopt no systems, but study them yourself. . _how to refuse._ a polite manner of refusing to comply with the solicitations of a company is also very necessary to be learned; for a young man who seems to have no will of his own, but does everything that is asked of him, may be a very good-natured, but he is a very silly, fellow. . _civility to women._ civility is particularly due to all women; and remember that no provocation whatsoever can justify any man in not being civil to every woman; and the greatest man in the world would be justly reckoned a brute, if he were not civil to the meanest woman. . _spirit._ spirit is now a very fashionable word. to act with spirit, to speak with spirit, means only to act rashly, and to talk indiscreetly. an able man shows his spirit by gentle words and resolute actions; he is neither hot nor timid. xiii. illustrative anecdotes. it is well to combine amusement with instruction, whether you write for young or old.--_anonymous._ i.--elder blunt and sister scrub. the house of the excellent squire scrub was the itinerant's home; and a right sweet, pleasant home it would have been but for a certain unfortunate weakness of the every other way _excellent_ sister scrub. the weakness i allude to was, or at least it was suspected to be, _the love of praise_. now the good sister was really worthy of high praise, and she often received it; but she had a way of disparaging herself and her performances which some people thought was intended to invite praise. no housewife kept her floors looking so clean and her walls so well whitewashed as she. every board was scrubbed and scoured till further scrubbing and scouring would have been labor wasted. no one could look on her white ash floor and not admire the polish her industry gave it. the "squire" was a good provider, and sister scrub was an excellent cook; and so their table groaned under a burden of good things on all occasions when good cheer was demanded. and yet you could never enter the house and sit half an hour without being reminded that "husband held court yesterday, and she couldn't keep the house decent." if you sat down to eat with them, she was sorry she "hadn't anything fit to eat." she had been scrubbing, or washing, or ironing, or she had been half sick, and she hadn't got such and such things that she ought to have. nor did it matter how bountiful or how well prepared the repast really was, there was always _something_ deficient, the want of which furnished a text for a disparaging discourse on the occasion. i remember once that we sat down to a table that a king might have been happy to enjoy. there was the light snow-white bread; there were the potatoes reeking in butter; there were chickens swimming in gravy; there were the onions and the turnips, and i was sure sister scrub had gratified her ambition for once. we sat down, and a blessing was asked; instantly the good sister began; she was afraid her coffee was too much burned, or that the water had been smoked, or that she hadn't roasted the chicken enough. there ought to have been some salad, and it was too bad that there was nothing nice to offer us. we, of course, endured those unjustifiable apologies as well as the could, simply remarking that everything was really nice, and proving by our acts that the repast was tempting to our appetites. i will now introduce another actor to the reader--elder blunt, the circuit preacher. elder blunt was a good man. his religion was of the most genuine, experimental kind. he was a _very_ plain man. he, like mr. wesley, would no more dare to preach a _fine_ sermon than wear a fine coat. he was celebrated for his common-sense way of exhibiting the principles of religion. he _would_ speak just what he thought, and as he felt. he somehow got the name of being an eccentric preacher, as every man, i believe, does who _never_ prevaricates, and always acts and speaks as he thinks. somehow or other, elder blunt had heard of sister scrub, and that infirmity of hers, and he resolved to cure her. on his first round he stopped at "squire scrub's," as all other itinerants had done before him. john, the young man, took the elder's horse and put him in the stable, and the preacher entered the house. he was shown into the best room, and soon felt very much at home. he expected to hear something in due time disparaging the domestic arrangements, but he heard it sooner than he expected. this time, if sister scrub could be credited, her house was all upside down; it wasn't fit to stay in, and she was sadly mortified to be caught in such a plight. the elder looked all around the room, as if to observe the terrible disorder, but he said not a word. by-and-by the dinner was ready, and the elder sat down with the family to a well spread table. here, again, sister scrub found everything faulty; the coffee wasn't fit to drink, and she hadn't anything fit to eat. the elder lifted his dark eye to her face; for a moment he seemed to penetrate her very soul with his austere gaze; then slowly rising from the table, he said, "brother scrub, i want my horse immediately; i must leave!" "why, brother blunt, what is the matter?" "matter? why, sir, your house isn't fit to stay in, and you haven't anything fit to eat or drink, and i won't stay." both the "squire" and his lady were confounded. this was a piece of eccentricity entirely unlooked for. they were stupefied. but the elder was gone. he wouldn't stay in a house not fit to stay in, and where there wasn't anything fit to eat and drink. poor sister scrub! she wept like a child at her folly. she "knew it would be all over town," she said, "and everybody would be laughing at her." and then, how should she meet the blunt, honest elder again? "she hadn't meant anything by what she had said." ah! she never thought how wicked it was to say _so much_ that didn't mean anything. the upshot of the whole matter was, that sister scrub "saw herself as others saw her." she ceased making apologies, and became a wiser and better christian. elder blunt always puts up there, always finds everything as it should be, and, with all his eccentricities, is thought by the family the most agreeable, as he is acknowledged by everybody to be the most consistent, of men.--_rev. j. v. watson._ ii.--the presence. mr. johnson, an english traveler, relates, in his notes on north america, the following story: "at boston," he says, "i was told of a gentleman in the neighborhood who, having a farm servant, found him very satisfactory in every respect, except that he invariably came into his employer's room with his hat on. "'john,' said he to the man one day, 'you always keep your hat on when you come into the room.' "'well, sir,' said john, 'and haven't i a right to?' "'yes,' was his employer's reply, 'i suppose you have.' "'well,' said john, 'if i have a right to, why shouldn't i?' "this was a poser from one man to another, where all have equal rights. so, after a moment's reflection the gentleman asked: "'now, john, what will you take, how much more wages will you ask, to take off your hat whenever you come in?' "'well, that requires consideration, i guess,' said the man. "'take the thing into consideration, then,' rejoined the employer, 'and let me know to-morrow morning.' "the morrow comes, and john appears. "'well, john, have you considered what additional wages you are to have for taking your hat off?' "'well, sir, i guess it's worth a dollar a month.' "'it's settled, then, john; you shall have another dollar a month.' "so the gentleman retained a good man, while john's hat was always in his hand when he entered the house." this story, to one who knows new england, is not altogether incredible. toward the democratization of this country, yet most incomplete, it will perhaps be one day conceded that the south has contributed ideas, and new england sentiment; while the great west will have made a partial application of both to the conduct of life. the yankees are the kindest and the acutest of our people, and the most ungraceful. nowhere in the world is there so much good feeling, combined with so much rudeness of manner, as in new england. the south, colonized by cavaliers, retains much of the cavalier improvidence and careless elegance of manner; and southerners, like the soil they till, are generous. but the yankees, descended from austere and puritanic farmers, and accustomed to wring their subsistence from an unwilling soil, possess the sterling virtues of human nature along with a stiff-jointed awkwardness of manner, and a sharp angularity of thought, which renders them unpleasing even to those who respect them most. a yankee seldom ceases to be provincial. but john is waiting, hat in hand, to hear what we have to say respecting his case. we say that john was wrong in not taking off his hat voluntarily, but that the feeling which prevented his doing so was right. he was right in feeling that the accidental circumstance of his being a hired man gave his employer no claim to any special mark of respect from him; and, as he considered that the removal of his hat would have been a special mark of respect, and thus an acknowledgment of social inferiority, he declined to make that acknowledgment. but john was mistaken. the act referred to would not have borne such an interpretation. john ought to have felt that on coming into the presence of a man, a fellow-citizen and co-sovereign, and particularly on entering his abode, one of the innumerable royal residences of the country, some visible sign of respect, some kind of deferential salutation, is _due_ from the person entering. john should have risen superior to the mere accident of his position, and remembered only that he and his employer were men and equals. the positions of the two men might be reversed in a day; their equality as men and citizens, nothing but crime could affect.--_james parton._ iii.--a learned man at table. some of the many errors which are liable to be committed through ignorance of usage, are pleasantly pointed out in the following story, which is related by a french writer: the abbé cosson, professor in the _collége mazarin_, thoroughly accomplished in the art of teaching, saturated with greek, latin, and literature, considered himself a perfect well of science: he had no conception that a man who knew all persius and horace by heart could possibly commit an error--above all, an error at table. but it was not long before he discovered his mistake. one day, after dining with the abbé de radonvilliers at versailles, in company with several courtiers and marshals of france; he was boasting of the rare acquaintance with etiquette and custom which he had exhibited at dinner. the abbé delille, who heard this eulogy upon his own conduct, interrupted his harangue by offering to wager that he had committed at least a hundred improprieties at the table. "how is it possible?" exclaimed cosson. "i did exactly like the rest of the company." "what absurdity!" said the other. "you did a thousand things which no one else did. first, when you sat down at the table, what did you do with your napkin?" "my napkin! why, just what everybody else did with theirs. i unfolded it entirely, and fastened it to my button-hole." "well, my dear friend," said delille, "you were the only one that did _that_, at all events. no one hangs up his napkin in that style; they are contented with placing it on their knees. and what did you do when you took soup?" "like the others, i believe. i took any spoon in one hand and my fork in the other--" "your fork! who ever ate soup with a fork? but to proceed: after your soup, what did you eat?" "a fresh egg." "and what did you do with the shell?" "handed it to the servant who stood behind my chair." "without breaking it, of course?" "well, my dear abbé, nobody ever eats an egg without breaking the shell." "and after your egg--?" "i asked the abbé radonvilliers to send me a piece of the hen near him." "bless my soul! a piece of the _hen_! you never speak of hens excepting in the barn-yard. you should have asked for fowl, or chicken. but you say nothing of your mode of drinking." "like all the rest, i asked for _claret_ and _champagne_." "let me inform you, then, that persons always ask for _claret wine_ and _champagne wine_. but tell me, how did you eat your bread?" "surely i did that properly. i cut it with my knife in the most regular manner possible." "bread should always be broken, not cut. but the coffee, how did you manage it?" "it was rather too hot, and i poured a little of it into my saucer." "well, you committed here the greatest fault of all. you should never pour your coffee into the saucer, but always drink it from the cup." the poor abbé was confounded. he felt that though one might be master of the seven sciences, yet that there was another species of knowledge which, if less dignified, was equally important. this occurred many years ago, but there is not one of the observances neglected by the abbé cosson which is not enforced with equal rigidness in the present day. iv.--english women in high life. lord hardwicke's family consists of his countess, his eldest son (about eighteen or twenty, lord royston by courtesy), three of the finest-looking daughters you ever saw, and several younger sons. the daughters--lady elizabeth, lady mary, and lady agnita--are surpassingly beautiful; such development--such rosy cheeks, laughing eyes, and unaffected manners--you rarely see combined. they take a great deal of out-door exercise, and came aboard the merrimac, in a heavy rain, with irish shoes thicker soled than you or i ever wore, and cloaks and dresses almost impervious to wet. they steer their father's yacht, walk the lord knows how many miles, and don't care a cent about rain, besides doing a host of other things that would shock our ladies to death; and yet in the parlor are the most elegant looking women, in their satin shoes and diamonds, i ever saw.... after dinner the ladies play and sing for us, and the other night they got up a game of blind-man's-buff; in which the ladies said we had the advantage, inasmuch as their "petticoats rustled so that they were easily caught." they call things by their names here. in the course of the game, lord hardwicke himself was blindfolded, and, trying to catch some one, fell over his daughter's lap on the floor, when two or three of the girls caught him by the legs and dragged his lordship--roaring with laughter, as we all were--on his back into the middle of the floor. yet they are perfectly respectful, but appear on a perfect equality with each other.--_letter from an officer of the "merrimac."_ v.--"vil you say so, if you please?" "speaking of _not speaking_," said i, when the general amusement had abated, "reminds me of an amusing little scene that i once witnessed in the public parlor of a new england tavern, where i was compelled to wait several hours for a stage-coach. presently there entered a bustling, sprightly-looking little personage, who, after frisking about the room, apparently upon a tom of inspection, finally settled herself very comfortably in the large cushioned rocking-chair--the only one in the room--and was soon, as i had no reason to doubt, sound asleep. it was not long, however, before a noise of some one entering aroused her, and a tall, gaunt, old yankee woman, hung around with countless bags, bonnet-boxes, and nondescript appendages of various sizes and kinds, presented herself to our vision. after slowly relieving herself of the numberless incumbrances that impeded her progress in life, she turned to a young man who accompanied her, and said, in a tone so peculiarly shrill that it might have been mistaken, at this day, for a railroad whistle-- "'now, jonathan, don't let no grass grow under your feet while you go for them toothache drops; i am a'most crazy with pain!' laying a hand upon the affected spot as she spoke; 'and here,' she called out, as the door was closing upon her messenger, 'just get my box filled at the same time,' diving with her disengaged hand into the unknown depths of, seemingly, the most capacious of pockets, and bringing to light a shining black box of sufficient size to hold all the jewels of a modern belle. 'i thought i brought along my snuff-bladder, but i don't know where i put it, my head is so stirred up.' "by this time the little woman in the rocking-chair was fairly aroused, and rising, she courteously offered her seat to the stranger, her accent at once betraying her claim to be ranked with the politest of nations (a bow, on my part, to the fair foreigner in the group). with a prolonged stare, the old woman coolly ensconced herself in the vacated seat, making not the slightest acknowledgment of the civility she had received. presently she began to groan, rocking herself furiously at the same time. the former occupant of the stuffed chair, who had retired to a window and perched herself in one of a long row of wooden seats, hurried to the sufferer. 'i fear, madame,' said she, 'that you suffare ver' much--vat can i do for you?' the representative of yankeedom might have been a wooden clock-case for all the response she made to this amiable inquiry, unless her rocking more furiously than ever might be construed into a reply. "the little frenchwoman, apparently wholly unable to class so anomalous a specimen of humanity, cautiously retreated. "before i was summoned away, the toothache drops and the snuff together (both administered in large doses) seemed to have gradually produced the effect of oil poured upon troubled waters. "the sprightly frenchwoman again ventured upon the theater of action. "'you find yourself now much improved, madame?' she asked, with considerable vivacity. a very slight nod was the only answer. "'and you feel dis _fauteuil_ really very _com-for-ta-ble_?' pursued the little woman, with augmented energy of voice. another nod was just discernible. "no intonation of mine can do justice to the very ecstasy of impatience with which the pertinacious questioner actually _screamed_ out: "'_bien_, madame, _vil you say so_, if you please?' "_henry lunettes._" * * * * * the indispensable hand-book. how to write----how to talk----how to behave, and how to do business. complete in one large volume. this new work--in four parts--embraces just that practical matter-of-fact information which every one--old and young--ought to have. it will aid in attaining, if it does not insure, "success in life." it contains some pages, elegantly bound, and is divided into four parts, as follows: how to write: as a manual of letter-writing and composition, is far superior to the common "letter-writers." it teaches the inexperienced how to write business letters, family letters, friendly letters, love letters, notes and cards, and newspaper articles, and how to correct proof for the press. the newspapers have pronounced it "indispensable." how to talk: no other book contains so much useful instruction on the subject as this. it teaches how to speak correctly, clearly, fluently, forcibly, eloquently, and effectively, in the shop, in the drawing-room; a chairman's guide, to conduct debating societies and public meetings; how to spell, end how to pronounce all sorts of words; with exercises for declamation. the chapter on "errors corrected" is worth the price of the volume to every young man. "worth a dozen grammars." how to behave: this is a manual of etiquette, and it is believed to be the best "manners book" ever written. if you desire to know what good manners require, at home, on the street, at a party, at church, at table, in conversation, at places of amusement, in traveling, in the company of ladies, in courtship, this book will inform you. it is a standard work on good behavior. how to do business: indispensable in the counting-room, in the store, in the shop, on the farm, for the clerk, the apprentice, the book agent, and for business men. it teaches how to choose a pursuit, and how to follow it with success. "it teaches how to get rich honestly," and how to use your riches wisely. how to write--how to talk--how to behave--how to do business, bound in one large handsome volume, for $ practical outdoor books. how to raise fruits.--a handbook of fruit culture. being a guide to the proper cultivation and management of fruit trees, and of grapes and small fruits, with condensed descriptions of many of the best and most popular varieties, with upwards of engravings. by thomas gregg. $ . a book which should be owned by every person who owns a rod of available land, and it will serve to secure success where now there is nothing but failure. it covers the ground fully, without technicalities, and is a work on "fruit culture for the million." it tells of the cost, how to plant, how to trim, how to transplant, location, soil, selection diseases, insects, borers, blights, cultivation, how to prune, manuring, layering, budding grafting, etc., including full description and management of orchard fruit, such as apples, peaches, pears, plums, cherries, quinces, apricots, nectarines, etc. it is a most complete guide to small-fruit culture, with many illustrations and descriptions of the latest varieties of grapes, strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, gooseberries, currants, etc. how to paint.--a new work by a practical painter. denoted for the use of farmers, tradesmen, mechanics, merchants, and as a guide to the professional painter. containing a plain common-sense statement of the methods employed by painters to produce satisfactory results in plain and fancy painting of every description, including gilding, bronzing, staining, graining, marbling, varnishing, polishing, kalsomining, paper-hanging, striping, lettering, copying, and ornamenting, with directions for mixing and applying all kinds of paints. makes "every man his own painter." $ . . the model potato.--an exposition of the proper cultivation of the potato; the causes of its disease, and the remedy; its renewal, preservation, productiveness, and cooking. cents. horses: their feed and their feet.--a manual of horse hygiene, invaluable for the veteran or the novice, pointing out the causes of "malaria," "glanders," "pink eye," "distemper," etc., and how to prevent and counteract them. by c. e. page, m.d., with a treatise and notes on shoeing by sir george cox and col. m. c. weld. pp. mo, paper, cents; extra cloth, cents. by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. address fowler & wells co., publishers, broadway, new york a new work. _fresh, seasonable, advanced._ brain and mind; or mental science considered in accordance with the principles of phrenology, and in relation to modern physiology by henry s. drayton, a.m., and james mcneill. illustrated with over one hundred portraits and diagrams. mo, extra cloth price, $ . . this contribution to the science of mind has been made in response to the demand of the time for a work embodying the grand principles of phrenology, as they are understood and applied to-day by the advanced exponents of mental philosophy. the authors state in their preface: "in preparing this volume it has been the aim to meet an existing want, viz. that of a treatise which not only gives the reader a complete view of the system of mental science known as phrenology, but also exhibits its relation to anatomy and physiology as those sciences are represented to-day by standard authority." the work is divided into eighteen chapters, which are entitled as follows: chapters. i. general principles. ii. of the temperaments. iii. structure of the brain and skull. iv. classification of the faculties. v. the physico-preservative, or selfish organs. vi. of the intellect. vii. the semi-intellectual faculties. viii. the organs of the social functions. ix. the selfish sentiments. x. the moral and religious sentiments. xi. how to examine heads. xii. how character is manifested. xiii. the action of the faculties. xiv. the relation of phrenology to metaphysics and education. xv. value of phrenology as an art. xvi. phrenology and physiology. xvii. objections and confirmations by the physiologists. xviii. phrenology in general literature. in style and treatment it is adapted to the general reader, and abounds with valuable instruction expressed in clear, practical terms. it is printed on fine paper, and substantially bound in cloth, and contains pages. mo. price $ . , by mail post-paid. _address_ fowler & wells co., broadway, n. y. how to paint. _"every man his own painter."_ how to paint.--a complete compendium of the art. designed for the use of tradesmen, mechanics, merchants, farmers, and a guide to the professional painter. containing a plain common-sense statement of the methods employed by painters to produce satisfactory results in plain and fancy painting of every description, including gilding, bronzing, staining, graining, marbling, varnishing, polishing, kalsomining, paper hanging, striping, lettering, copying and ornamenting, with formulas for mixing paint in oil or water. description of pigments used; their average cost, tools required, etc. by f. b. gardner, author of the _carriage painter's manual_. pp. cloth, $ . . this is just the work needed by every person who has anything to paint, as will be seen from the following from the table of contents. it is very complete, and will make "every man his own painter." chapter i.--painting--tools used. chapter ii.--brushes. chapter iii.--dry colors--white lead; fine white; lamp black; drop black; ivory black; prussian blue; ultramarine green; yellow; vermilion; brown; lake; carmine; rose pink; whiting; glue; pumice stone; asphaltum. chapter iv.--liquids--spirits of turpentine; oils; varnishes; furniture varnish; average prices of varnish; shellac varnish; japan gold size; brown japan size; fat oil size; quick size; asphaltum size; honey size; size for glass. chapter v.--colors in oil--tube colors; compound colors. chapter vi.--mixing paint; white paint; white for inside work; china glass; oil color for outside work; dead, or flat color; colors ground in oil. putty--common window putty; carriage painters' putty; cementing putty; furniture putty; hardwood putty; putty for plaster work. chapter vii.--milk paint--distemper painting; kalsomine; preparing kalsomine; paint for out-buildings; paint for iron railing; white wash; size for walls; paste for paper hanging; hanging paper. chapter viii.--graining; oak in distemper; oak in oil; maple; mahogany; rosewood; black walnut; staining; granite; brown stone; portland stone; smalting; flockings; marbling. chapter ix.--gilding--gold leaf; silver leaf; dutch metal; gilding on glass; bronzing; stenciling; transferring; decalcomanie; transparent painting; pearl inlaying; making a rustic picture; painting flower stand; polish for mahogany; varnishing furniture; waxing furniture; cleaning paint; paint for farming tools; paint for machinery; paint for household goods; paint for iron; to imitate ground glass; pumicing ornaments; painting to imitate damask; to paint a farm wagon; to re-varnish a carriage; to duplicate plaster casts; "putty work;" permanent wood filling for house work. it is neatly printed, with illustrations showing everything that can be illustrated in connection with the subject. published in uniform style with the carriage painter's manual, at the same price. $ . , by mail, past-paid, to any address by b. r. wells & co., publishers, broadway, n. y. the emphatic diaglott, containing the original greek text of the new testament with an interlineary word-for-word english translation; a new emphatic version based on the interlineary translation, on the readings of eminent critics, and on the various readings of the vatican manuscript (no , in the vatican library); together with illustrative and explanatory foot notes, and a copious selection of references; to the whole of which is added a valuable alphabetical index. by benjamin wilson. one vol., mo, pp. price, extra cloth, $ ; lib. binding, $ . we have here a greek text acknowledged to be one of the best, which greek scholars will find of importance, while the unlearned have an almost equal chance with those who are acquainted with the original, by having an interlinear, literal, word-for-word english translation. on the right hand of each page there is a column containing a special rendering of the translation, including the labors of many talented critics and translators, and in this column the emphatic signs are noted by which the greek words of emphasis are designated, which the common and are new version of the new testament fail to give. the adopting of the ensigns of emphasis give a certainty and intensity to the passages where they occur which can not be had without them. in addition to this there are numerous footnotes and references, making it on the whole one of the most valuable aids to bible study yet published. opinions of the clergy. the following extracts from a letters received by the publishers will go far to show in what the light the "emphatic diaglott" is regarded by the clergy: from j. r. graves, ll.d., _editor of tenn. baptist_.--"there are many of our ministers who have mastered the usual amount of greek required to complete their course at school but have found little time since entering upon their ministerial labors to "keep it up," and rust has so gathered upon their greek that it has become a labor to work it out without grammar and lexicon. to all such and even to those who have accomplished but little in the language, this interlineary translation will prove an invaluable help. the critical foot-notes and dictionary of terms at the close are fully worth the price of the work itself. i can cordially commend it to every minister and bible student as a rigidly faithful translation of the new testament, and for several reasons the most valuable one that has yet been made." from thomas armitage, d.d., _pastor of the fifth ave. baptist church_.--"gentlemen: i have examined with much care and great interest the specimen sheets sent me of 'the emphatic diaglott.' ... i believe that the book furnishes evidences of the purposed faithfulness, more than usual scholarship, and remarkable literary industry. it can not fail to be an important help to those who wish to become better acquainted with the revealed will of god. for these reasons i wish the enterprise of publishing the work a great success." from the rev. james l. hodge, _pastor of the first mariners' baptist church, n. y._--"i have examined these sheets which you design to be a specimen of the work, and have to confess myself much pleased with the arrangement and ability of mr. wilson.... i can most cordially thank mr. wilson for his noble work, and you, gentlemen, for your christian enterprise in bringing the work before the public. i believe the work will do good, and aid the better understanding of the new testament." from prof. h. mattison, _pastor of trinity meth. church, jersey city, n. j._--... "the plan of the work is admirable, and the presence of the greek text and interlinear version gives every scholar a fair chance to test the version for himself, verse by verse and word for word. i can not but believe that the work will be valuable acquisition to the biblical literature of the country." from a. a. livermore, d.d., _president of the theological sem., meadville, pa._--... "i welcome all efforts intelligently made to popularize the results of criticism, and wish that this little volume might be possessed by every clergyman and student of the scriptures in the country." from rev. c. larew, _pastor of the halsey st. meth. church, newark, n. j._--"'the diaglott' has given me great pleasure. the arrangement is a most excellent one, and the new version can not fail to be of gratification and profit, especially to those unacquainted with the original greek. the translator has certainly shown great genius in seizing upon the thought of the original and a happy tact on presenting it." from rev. g. f. warren, _pastor of the worthen st. church, lowell, mass._--... "am highly gratified with the thorough manner in which he (the author) has done his work. if i mistake not this translation will receive a cordial welcome from the christian public. it is just what every christian needs. i congratulate myself and others that such a valuable auxiliary to the study of the word of god is placed in our hands." we give sample pages of the work that every one may form a correct idea of the plan of publication. sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. address all orders to fowler & wells co. publishers, broadway, new york. good health books. health in the household, or, hygienic cookery. by susanna w. dodds, m.d. one large mo volume, pages, extra cloth or oil-cloth binding, price $ . . undoubtedly the very best work on the preparation of food in a healthful manner ever published, and one that should be in the hands of all who would furnish their tables with food that is wholesome and at the same time palatable, and will contribute much toward health in the household. the natural cure of consumption, constipation, bright's disease, neuralgia, rheumatism, "colds" (fevers), etc. how sickness originates and how to prevent it. a health manual for the people. by c. e. page. vol. mo. pp., ex. cloth, $ . . a new work with new ideas, both radical and reasonable, appealing to the common-sense of the reader. this is not a new work with old thoughts simply restated, but the most original health manual published in many years. it is written in the author's clear, attractive manner, and should be in the hands of all who would either retain or regain their health, and keep from the hands of the doctors. how to feed the baby, to make her healthy and happy. with health hints. by c. e. page, m.d. fourth edition, revised and enlarged. mo, paper, cents; extra cloth, cts. dr. page has devoted much attention to the subject, both in this country and in europe, noting the condition of children, and then making careful inquiries as to the feeding, care, etc., and this work is a special record of experience with his own child. in addition to answering the question _what_ to feed the baby, this volume tells _how_ to feed the baby, which is of equal importance. there are many who are now following the author's teaching with good results. how to be well; or, common-sense medical hygiene. a book for the people, giving directions for the treatment and cure of acute diseases without the use of drug medicines, also general hints on health. by m. augusta fairchild, m.d. mo, cloth, $ . . we have here a new work on hygiene containing the results of the author's experience for many years in the treatment of acute and chronic diseases with hygienic agencies, and it will save an incalculable amount of pain and suffering, as well as doctors' bills, in every family where its simple directions are followed. digestion and dyspepsia. a complete explanation of the digestive processes, with the symptoms and treatment of dyspepsia and other disorders of the digestive organs. illustrated. by r. t. trall, m.d. $ . . the latest and best work on the subject. with fifty illustrations; showing with all possible fullness every process of digestion, and giving all the causes, and directions for treatment of dyspepsia. the author gives the summary of the data which he collected during an extensive practice of more than twenty-five years, largely with patients who were suffering from diseases caused by dyspepsia and an impaired digestion. the mother's hygienic handbook, for the normal development and training of women and children, and the treatment of their diseases with hygienic agencies. by the same author. $ . . the great experience and ability of the author enabled him to give just that advice which mothers need so often all through their lives. it covers the whole ground, and, if it be carefully read, will go far towards giving us an "enlightened motherhood." the work should be read by every wife and every woman who contemplates marriage. mothers may place it in the hands of their daughters with words of commendation, and feel assured they will be the better prepared for the responsibilities and duties of married life and motherhood. sent by mail, post-paid, to any address on receipt of price. agents wanted. address fowler & wells co., publishers. broadway, new york. the works of nelson sizer. a great book for young people "choice of pursuits; or, what to do and why," describing seventy-five trades and professions, and the temperaments and talents required for each; with portraits and biographies of many successful thinkers and workers by nelson sizer, associate editor of the "phrenological journal," vice president of, and teacher in, the "american institute of phrenology," etc. mo, extra cloth. pp. price, $ . . this work fills a place attempted by no other. whoever has to earn a living by labor of head or hand, can not afford to do without it. notices of the press. "'choice of pursuits; or, what to do and why' is a remarkable book. the author has attained a deserved eminence as a delineator of character. we have given it a careful reading and feel warranted in saying that it is a book calculated to do a vast deal of good."--_boston commonwealth._ "the title in startling, but it is indicative of the contents of the book itself; the work is a desideratum."--_inter-ocean (chicago.)_ "it presents many judicious counsels. the main purpose of the writer is to prevent mistakes in the choice of a profession. his remarks on the different trades are often highly original. the tendency of this volume is to increase the reader's respect for human nature."--_new york tribune._ "the design of this book is to indicate to every man his proper work and to educate him for it"--_albany evening journal._ a new book for parents and teachers. "how to teach according to temperament and mental development," or, phrenology in the school-room and the family. with many illustrations. mo, extra cloth, pages. price, $ . . one of the greatest difficulties in the training of children arises from not understanding their temperament and disposition. this work points out clearly the constitutious differences, and how to make the most of each. notices of the press. "the purpose of this work is to aid parents and teachers to understand the talents, dispositions, and temperaments of those under their guidance. this opens a new field to the consideration of the teacher. the text is attractive and a valuable contribution to educational literature. it should be in the library of every parent and teacher."--_new england journal of education._ "this is an entirely new feature in a book intended for the use of teachers, and must prove of great advantage to them. the text is written in a manner which must attract every reader."--_the methodist._ "no teacher should neglect to read this well-written contribution to the cause of education."--_christian instructor._ "it abounds in valuable suggestions and counsels derived from many years experience, which can not fail to be of service to all who are engaged in the business of education. the subject is treated in a plain, familiar manner, and adapted to reading in the family as well as in the study of the teacher."--_new york tribune._ "there is a great deal of good sense in the work and all teachers will be glad to welcome it."--_the commonwealth_, boston. a new book for everybody! forty years in phrenology: embracing recollections of history, anecdote, and experience. mo, extra cloth, pages. price, $ . . in this work we have a most interesting record of the author's recollections and experiences during more than forty years as a practical phrenologist. the volume is filled with history, anecdotes, and incidents, pathetic, witty, droll, and startling. every page sparkles with reality, and is packed with facts too good to be lost. this book will be warmly welcomed by every reader, from the boy of twelve to the sage of eighty years. thoughts on domestic life; or, marriage vindicated and free love exposed. mo. paper, cents. this work contains a sharp analysis of the social nature, in some respects quite original. sent by mail, post-paid, to any address. agents wanted. address fowler & wells co., publishers, broadway, new york. the human voice. its anatomy, physiology, pathology, therapeutics, and training, with rules of order for lyceums. by r. t. trall, m.d. paper, cents; cloth, cents. the work comprises, in a clear, concise form, directions for strengthening and improving the voice, overcoming constitutional difficulties, and repairing the abnormal conditions in the organs of articulation as far as they can be remedied. the work contains many illustrations, with full directions for vocal culture and how gestures may become graceful. it contains, for practice, some of the most popular selections, including the best from dickens, henry clay, pope, and bancroft, with poe's "raven" and the "bells;" also, "sheridan's ride." the chapter devoted to rules of order for public meetings constitutes a chairman's guide, and with a list of debatable subjects, would be considered worth the price of the book by many young men and members of debating societies. let every young man--and woman, too--prepare themselves for speaking in public when occasion may demand it. notices. all who desire to read and speak well, will find this book an excellent guide.--_new england journal of education._ any one who desires to improve his voice, should get a copy of this new work. it is a safe guide for the use of all who aim to become good readers and speakers.--_new york weekly._ the work aims at a scientific and thorough treatment of the subject.--_daily graphic._ this book supplies the greatest want of young persons entering on their oratorical career.--_rural new yorker._ an excellent guide for those desiring to become good readers or public speakers, for strengthening and improving the voice.--_publishers' weekly._ a very useful treatise, practical in treatment, and popular in form.--_christian intelligencer._ it will be an aid to teachers.--_national teachers' monthly._ it will be found a plain and intelligible guide in theory and practice, to any who desire to improve or excel, and must rely mainly on self-education.--_christian instructor, and west. united pres._ agents wanted to sell this in high schools, colleges, etc. sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. address fowler & wells co., publishers, broadway, new york. a choice of premiums. the phrenological chart. a handsome symbolical head, made from new and special drawings designed for the purpose. the pictorial illustrations show the location of each of the phrenological organs and their natural language. the head is about twelve ins. wide, handsomely lithographed in colors and on heavy plate paper × ins., properly mounted, with rings for hanging or may be framed, and will be very attractive wherever it is seen. price: $ . . is given to the new subscribers, or the bust premium. [illustration] the phrenological bust. this bust is made of plaster of paris, and so lettered as to show the exact location of each of the phrenological organs. the head is nearly life-size, and very ornamental, deserving a place on the centre-table or mantel, in parlor, office or study. this, with the illustrated key which accompanies each bust, should be in the hands of all who would know "how to read character." price, $ . , or given as a premium to each new subscriber to the journal or we will send the chart premium. the phrenological journal is widely known in america and europe, having been before the reading world fifty years, and occupying a place in literature exclusively its own, viz., the study of human nature in all its phases, including phrenology, physiognomy, ethnology, physiology, etc., together with the "science of health," and no expense will be spared to make it the best publication for general circulation, tending always to make men better physically, mentally, and morally. parents and teachers should read the journal, that they may better know how to govern and train their children. young people should read the journal, that they may make the most of themselves. it has long met with the hearty approval of the press and the people. _n. y. times_ says: "the phrenological journal proves that the increasing years of a periodical is no reason for its lessening its enterprise or for diminishing its abundance of interesting matter. if all magazines increased in merit as steadily as the phrenological journal, they would deserve in time to show equal evidences of popularity." _christian union_ says: "it is well known as a popular storehouse for useful thought. it teaches men to know themselves and constantly presents matters of the highest interest to intelligent readers, and has the advantage of having always been not only up with the times, but a _little in advance_. its popularity shows the result of enterprise and brains." terms.--the journal is published monthly at $ . a year, or cents a number. to each new subscriber is given either the bust or chart premium described above. when the premiums are sent, cents extra must be received with each subscription to pay postage on the journal and the expense of boxing and packing the bust, which will be sent by express, or no. , a smaller size, or the chart premium, will be sent by mail, post-paid. send amount to p. o. orders, p. n., drafts on new york, or in registered letters. postage-stamps will be received. agents wanted. send cents for specimen numbers, premium list, posters, etc. address fowler & wells co., publishers, broadway, new york. [illustration] heads and faces: how to study them a complete manual of phrenology and physiognomy for the people. by prof. nelson sizer, and h. s. drayton, m.d. fully illustrated. octavo, extra cloth, $ . ; paper edition, cents. all claim to know something of _how to read character_, but very few understand all the _signs of character_ as shown in the _head and face_. the subject is one of great importance, and in this work the authors, prof. nelson sizer, the phrenological examiner at the rooms of fowler & wells co., and dr. h. s. drayton, the editor of the _phrenological journal_, have considered it from a practical standpoint, and the subject is so simplified as to be of great interest and easily understood. the demand for standard publications of low price has increased greatly with the tendency of many bookmakers to meet it. popular editions of the poets, historians, scientists have fallen in line with the hundreds and thousands of cheap editions of the better classes of novels; and now, in response to the often-expressed want of the studious and curious, we have this voluminous yet very low-priced treatise on "heads and faces" from the point of view of phrenology, physiognomy, and physiology. although so low-priced, as we have noted above, it is no flimsy, patched-up volume, but a careful, honest work, replete with instruction, fresh in thought, suggestive and inspiring. there are nearly two hundred illustrations, exhibiting a great variety of faces, human and animal, and many other interesting features of the much-sided subject that is considered. taken at length it is one of the most complete books on face-study that has been issued by its publishers, and is a book that must create a demand wherever it is seen. the style in which it has been produced, the excellent paper, good presswork, numerous illustrations, and elegant, engaging cover, make it a phenomenon even in this cheap book day. sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price, cts. agents wanted. address, fowler & wells co., publishers, broadway, new york. a new book. health in the household; or, hygienic cookery. by susanna w. dodds, m.d. one large mo vol., pp., extra cloth or oil-cloth. price. $ . . the author of this work is specially qualified for her task, as she is both a physician and a practical housekeeper. it is unquestionably the best work written on the healthful preparation of food, and should be in the hands of every housekeeper who wishes to prepare food healthfully and palatably. the best way and the reason why are given. it is complete in every department. to show something of what is thought of this work we copy a few brief extracts from the many. notices of the press. "this work contains a great deal of excellent advice about wholesome food and gives directions for preparing many dishes in a way that will make luxuries for the palate out of many simple productions of nature which are now lost by a vicious cookery."--_home journal._ "another book on cookery, and one that appears to be fully the equal in all respects and superior to many of its predecessors. simplicity is sought to be blended with science, economy with all the enjoyments of the table, and health and happiness with an ample household liberally. every purse and every taste will find in mrs. dodds' book, material within its means of grasp for efficient kitchen administration."--_n. y. star._ "the book can not fail to be of great value in every household to those who will intelligently appreciate the author's stand-point. and there are but few who will not concede that it would be a public benefit if our people generally would become better informed as to the better mode of living than the author intends."--_scientific american._ "she evidently knows what she is writing about, and her book is eminently practical upon every page. it is more than a book of recipes for making soups, and pies, and cake; it is a educator of how to make the home the abode of healthful people."--_the daily inter-ocean_, chicago, ill. "the book is a good one, and should be given a place in every well-regulated _cuisine_."--_indianapolis journal._ "as a comprehensive work on the subject of healthful cookery, there is no other in print which is superior, and which brings the subject so clearly and squarely to the understanding of an average housekeeper."--_methodist recorder._ "in this book dr. dodds deals with the whole subject scientifically, and yet has made her instructions entirely practical. this book will certainly prove useful, and if its precepts could be universally followed, without doubt human life would be considerably lengthened."--_springfield union._ "here is a cook-book prepared by an educated lady physician. it seems to be a very sensible addition to the voluminous literature on this subject, which ordinarily has little reference to the hygienic character of the preparations which are described."--_zion's herald._ "this one seems to us to be most sensible and practical, while yet based upon scientific principles--in short, the best. if it were in every household, there would be far less misery in the world."--_south and west._ "there is much good sense in the book, and there is plenty of occasion for attacking the ordinary methods of cooking, as well as the common style of diet."--_morning star._ "she sets forth the why and wherefore of cookery, and devotes the larger portion of the work to those articles essential to good blood, strong bodies, and vigorous minds."--_new haven register._ the work will be sent to any address, by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price, $ . . agents wanted, to whom special terms will be given. send for terms. address fowler & wells co., publishers, broadway, new york. [illustration] names of the faculties. . amativeness.--connubial love, affection. a. conjugal love.--union for life, pairing instinct. . parental love.--care of offspring, and all young. . friendship.--sociability, union of friends. . inhabitiveness.--love of home and country. . continuity.--application, consecutiveness. a. vitativeness.--clinging to life, tenacity. . combativeness. defense, courage. . destructiveness.--executiveness. . alimentiveness.--appetite for food, etc. . acquisitiveness.--frugality, economy. . secretiveness.--self-control, policy. . cautiousness.--guardedness, safety. . approbativeness.--love of applause. . self-esteem.--self-respect, dignity. . firmness.--stability, perseverance. . conscientiousness.--sense of right. . hope.--expectation, anticipation. . spirituality.--intuition, prescience. . veneration.--worship, adoration. . benevolence.--sympathy, kindness. . constructiveness.--ingenuity, tools. . ideality.--_taste_, love of beauty, poetry. b. sublimity.--love of the grand, vast. . imitation.--copying, aptitude. . mirth.--fun, wit, ridicule, facetiousness. . individuality.--observation, to see. . form.--memory, _shape_, looks, persons. . size.--measurement of quantity. . weight.--control of motion, balancing. . color.--discernment, and love of color. . order.--_method_, system, going by _rule_. . calculation.--mental arithmetic. . locality.--memory of place, position. . eventuality.--memory of facts, events. . time.--telling _when_, time of day, dates. . tune.--love of music, singing. . language.--_expression_ by words, acts. . causality.--_planning_, thinking. . comparison.--analysis, inferring. c. human nature.--sagacity. d. suavity.--_pleasantness_, blandness. for complete definitions of all the organs of the brain, and the features of the face, see new physiognomy by s. r. wells, with , illustrations. price, post-paid, $ , $ , and $ , according to styles of binding. "education complete." education and self-improvement complete.--comprising physiology--animal and mental: self-culture and perfection of character: including the management of youth: memory and intellectual improvement. complete in one large, well-bound mo volume, with pp., and upward seventy engravings. price, pre-paid, by mail. $ this work is, in all respects, one of the best educational hand-books in the english language. any system of education that neglects the training and developing all that goes to make up a man, must necessarily be incomplete. the mind and body are so intimately related and connected that it is impossible to cultivate the former without it is properly supplemented by the latter. the work is subdivided into three departments--the first devoted to the preservation and restoration of health and the improvement of mentality; the second to the regulation of the feelings and perfection of the moral character; and the third, to the intellectual cultivation. "education complete" is a library in itself, and covers the entire nature of man. we append below a synopsis of the table of contents: health of body and power of mind. physiology--animal and mental health--its laws and preservation. happiness constitutional; pain not necessary; object of all education; reciprocation existing between body and mind; health defined; sickness--not providential. food--its necessity and selection.--unperverted appetite an infallible directory; different diets feed different powers; how to eat--or mastication. quantity, time, etc.; how appetite can be restrained; the digestive process; exercise after meals. circulation, respiration, perspiration, sleep.--the heart, its structure and office; the circulatory system; the lungs, their structure and functions; respiration, and its importance; perspiration; prevention and cure of colds, and their consequences; regulation of temperature by fire and clothing; sleep. the brain and nervous system.--position, function, and structure of the brain; consciousness or the seat of the soul; function of the nerves; how to seep the nervous system in health; the remedy of diseases; observance of the laws of health effectual; the drink of dyspeptics--its kind, times and quantity; promotion of circulation; consumption--its prevention and cure; preventives of insanity, etc. self-culture and perfection of character. constituent elements or conditions of perfection of character--progression a law of things--its application to human improvement; human perfectibility,--the harmonious action of all the faculties; governing the propensities by the intellectual and moral faculties. proof that the organs can be enlarged and diminished; the proper management of youth, etc. analysis and means of strengthening of the faculties.--amativeness; philoprogenitiveness; adhesiveness; union for life; inhabitiveness; continuity; vitativeness; combativeness; destructiveness, or executiveness; alimentiveness; aquativeness, or bibativeness; acquisitiveness; secretiveness; cautiousness; approbativeness; self-esteem; firmness. conscientiousness; hope; spirituality--marvelousness; veneration; benevolence; constructiveness; ideality; sublimity; initiation; mirthfulness; agreeableness--with engraved illustrations. memory and intellectual improvement applied to self-education. classification and function of the faculties.--man's superiority; intellect his crowning endowment; how to strengthen and improve the memory; definition, location, analysis, and means of the strengthening the intellectual faculties. individuality. form. size. weight. color. order. calculation. locality. eventuality. time. tune: influence of music. language: power of eloquence & good language. phonography: its advantages. causality: teaching others to think; astronomy; anatomy and physiology; study of nature. comparison: inductive reasoning. human nature: adaptation. developments requiring for particular avocations.--good teachers; clergymen; physician; lawyers; statesmen; editors; authors; public speakers; poets; lecturers; merchants; mechanics; artists; painters; farmers; engineers; landlords; printers; milliners; seamstresses; fancy workers, and the like. full and explicit directions are given for the cultivation and direction of all the powers of the mind, instruction for finding the exact location of each organ, and its relative size compared with others. works published by fowler & wells co., new york. phrenology and physiognomy. phrenological journal and science of health--devoted to ethnology, physiology, phrenology, physiognomy, psychology, sociology, biography, education, literature, etc., with measures to reform, elevate and improve mankind physically, mentally and spiritually. monthly, $ . a year; c. a number. bound vols. $ . expression: its anatomy and philosophy. illustrated by sir charles bell. additional notes and illustrations by samuel r. wells. $ . education of the feelings and affections. charles bray. edited by nelson sizer. cloth, $ . . this work gives full and definite directions for the cultivation or restraining of all the faculties relating to the feelings or affections. combe's system of phrenology; with engravings. $ . . combe's constitution of man; considered in relation to external objects. with twenty engravings, and portrait of author. $ . . the "constitution of man" is a work with which every teacher and every pupil should be acquainted. combe's lectures on phrenology; with notes, an essay on the phrenological mode of investigation, and an historical sketch, by a. boardman, m.d. $ . . combe's moral philosophy; or, the duties of man considered in his individual, domestic, and social capacities. $ . . how to study character; or, the true basis for the science of mind. including a review of bain's criticism of phrenology. by thos. a. hyde. c.; clo. $ . . new descriptive chart, for the use of examiners in the delineation of character. by s. r. wells. c. new physiognomy; or signs of character, as manifested through temperament and external forms, and especially in the "human face divine." with more than one thousand illustrations. by samuel r. wells. in one mo volume, pages, muslin, $ . ; in heavy calf, marbled edges, $ . ; turkey morocco, full gilt, $ . . "the treatise of mr. wells, which is admirably printed and profusely illustrated, is probably the most complete hand-book upon the subject in the language."--_n. y. tribune._ how to read character.--a new illustrated hand-book of phrenology and physiognomy, for students and examiners, with a chart for recording the sizes of the different organs of the brain in the delineation of character; with upward of engravings. by s. r. wells. $ . . wedlock; or, the right relations of the sexes. disclosing the laws of conjugal selection, and showing who may marry. by s. r. wells. $ . ; gilt, $ . . brain and mind; or mental science considered in accordance with the principles of phrenology and in relation to modern physiology. h. s. drayton m.d., and j. mcneill. $ . . this is the latest and best work published. it constitutes a complete text-book of phrenology, is profusely illustrated, and will adapted to the use of students. indications of character, as manifested in the general shape of the head and form of the face. h. s. drayton, m.d. illus. c. how to study phrenology.--with suggestions to students, lists of best works, constitutions for societies, etc. mo, paper, c. choice of pursuits: or, what to do and why. describing seventy-five trades and professions, and the temperaments and talents required for each. with portraits and biographies of many successful thinkers and workers. by nelson sizer. $ . . how to teach according to temperament and mental development; or, phrenology in the schoolroom and the family. by nelson sizer. illustrated. $ . . forty years in phrenology.--embracing recollections of history, anecdotes and experience. $ . . thoughts on domestic life; or, marriage vindicated and free love exposed. c. cathechism of phrenology.--illustrating the principles of the science by means of questions and answers. revised and enlarged by nelson sizer. c. heads and faces: how to study them. a complete manual of phrenology and physiognomy for the people. by prof. nelson sizer and h. s. drayton, m.d. nearly octavo pages and illustrations, price in paper, c.; ex. clo. $ . . all claim to know something of how to read character but very few understand all the signs of character as shown in the head and face. this is a study of which one never tires; it is always fresh, for you have always new text books. the book is really a great album of portraits, and will be found of interest for the illustrations alone. memory and intellectual improvement, applied to self-education and juvenile instruction. by o. s. fowler. $ . . the best work on the subject. hereditary descent.--its laws and facts applied to human improvement. by o. s fowler. illustrated. $ . . the science of the mind applied to teaching: including the human temperaments and their influence upon the mind; the analysis of the mental faculties and how to develop and train them; the theory of education and of the school, and normal methods of teaching the common english branches. by prof. u. j. hoffman. profusely illustrated. $ . . reminiscences of dr. spurzheim and george combe and a review of the science of phrenology from the period of its discovery by dr. gali to the time of the visit of george combe to the united states, with a portrait of dr. spurzheim, by nahem capen, ll.d. ex. clo. $ . . education and self-improvement complete: comprising "physiology, animal and mental," "self-culture and perfection of character," "memory and intellectual improvement." by o. s. fowler. one large vol. illus. $ . . self-culture and perfection of character; including the management of children and youth. $ . . one of the best of the author's works. physiology, animal and mental: applied to the preservation and restoration of health of body and power of mind. $ . . phrenology proved, illustrated and applied. embracing an analysis of the primary mental powers in their various degrees of development, and location of the phrenological organs. the mental phenomena produced by their combined action, and the location of the faculties amply illustrated. by the fowler brothers. $ . . self-instructor in phrenology and physiology. with over one hundred engravings and a chart for phrenologists, for the recording of phrenological development. by the fowler brothers. c. phrenological miscellany of illustrated annuals of phrenology and physiognomy, from to combined in one volume containing over illustrations, many portraits and biographies of distinguished personages. $ . redfield's comparative physiognomy; or resemblances between men and animals, illustrated. $ . phrenology and the scriptures.--showing the harmony between phrenology and the bible. cents. phrenological chart. a symbolical head inches across, lithographed in colors, on paper × inches, mounted for hanging on the wall, or suitable for framing. $ . education: its elementary principles founded on the nature of man. by j. g. spurzheim, $ . natural laws of man.--a philosophical catechism. sixth edition. enlarged and improved by j. g. spurzheim, m.d. cents. lectures on mental science.--according to the philosophy of phrenology. delivered before the anthropological society. by rev. g. s. weaver. illustrated. $ . phrenological bust.--showing the latest classification and exact location of the organs of the brain. it is divided so as to show each individual organ on one side; with all the groups social, executive, intellectual and moral, classified on the other. large size (not mailable) $ . small cents. works on magnetism. there is an increasing interest in the facts relating to magnetism, etc., and we present below a list of works on this subject. library of mesmerism and psychology.--comprising the philosophy of mesmerism, clairvoyance, mental electricity.--fascination, or the power of charming. illustrating the principles of life in connection with spirit and matter.--the macrocosm or the universe without, being an unfolding of the plan of creation and the correspondence of truths.--the philosophy of electrical psychology; the doctrine of impressions, including the connection between mind and matter, also, the treatment of diseases.--psychology or the science of the soul, considered physiologically and philosophically; with an appendix containing notes of mesmeric and psychical experience and illustrations of the brain and nervous system. $ . . philosophy of mesmerism.--by dr. john bovee dods. cents. philosophy of electrical psychology. a course of twelve lectures. $ . practical instructions in animal magnetism. by j. p. f. deleuze. translated by thomas c. hartshorn. new and revised edition, with an appendix of notes by the translator and letters from eminent physicians and others. $ . history of salem witchcraft.--a review of charles w. upham's great work from the _edinburgh review_, with notes by samuel r. wells containing also, the planchette mystery, spiritualism, by mrs. harriet beecher stowe, and dr. doddridge's dream. $ . fascination: or, the philosophy of charming. illustrating the principles of life in connection with spirit and matter. by j. b. newman, m.d. $ . how to magnetize, or magnetism and clairvoyance.--a practical treatise on the choice, management and capabilities of subjects, with instructions on the method of procedure. by j. v. wilson. c. health books. _this list comprises the best works on hygiene, health, etc._ health in the household or hygienic cookery; by susanna w. dodds, m.d. mo. ex. clo. $ . . a novice in housekeeping will not be puzzled by this admirable book, it is so simple, systematic, practical and withal productive of much household pleasure, not only by means of the delicious food prepared from its recipes, but through the saving of labor and care to the housewife. household remedies.--for the prevalent disorders of the human organism, by felix oswald, m.d. mo. pp. $ . . the author of this work is one of the keenest and most critical writers on medical subjects now before the public. he writes soundly and practically. he is an enthusiastic apostle of the gospel of hygiene. we predict that his book will win many converts to the faith and prove a valuable aid to those who are already of the faith but are asking for "more light." among the special ailments herein considered are consumption, asthma, dyspepsia, climatic fevers, enteric disorders, nervous maladies, catarrh, pleurisy, etc. the temperaments, or varieties of physical constitution in man, considered in their relation to mental character and practical affairs of life. with an introduction by h. s. drayton, a. m. editor of the phrenological journal. portraits and other illustrations, by d. h. jacques, m.d. $ . . how to grow handsome, or hints toward physical perfection and the philosophy of human beauty, showing how to acquire and retain bodily symmetry, health and vigor, secure long life and avoid the infirmities and deformities of age. new edition, $ . . medical electricity.--a manual for students, showing the most scientific and rational application to all forms of diseases, of the different combinations of electricity, galvanism, electro-magnetism. magneto-electricity, and human magnetism, by w. white, m.d. $ . . the man wonderful in the house beautiful.--an allegory teaching the principles of physiology and hygiene, and the effects of stimulants and narcotics, by drs. c. b. and mary a. allen. $ . . to all who enjoy studies pertaining to the human body this book will prove a boon. the accomplished physician, the gentle mother, the modest girl, and the wide-awake school-boy will find pleasure in its perusal. it is wholly unlike any book previously published on the subject, and is such a thorough teacher that progressive parents cannot afford to do without it. the family physician.--a ready prescriber and hygienic advisor with reference to the nature, causes, prevention and treatment of diseases, accidents and casualties of every kind with a glossary and copious index. illustrated with nearly three hundred engravings, by joel shaw, m.d. $ . how to feed the baby to make her healthy and happy, by c. e. page, m.d. mo. third edition, revised and enlarged. paper, c. extra cloth. c. this is the most important work ever published on the subject of infant dietetics. the natural cure of consumption, constipation, bright's disease, neuralgia, rheumatism, colds, fevers, etc. how these disorders originate and how to prevent them. by c. e. page, m.d. cloth, $ . horses, their feed and their feet. a manual of horse hygiene. invaluable to the veteran or the novice, pointing out the true sources of disease, and how to prevent and counteract them. by c. e. page, m.d. paper c.; cloth c. this is the best book on the care of horses ever published, worth many times its cost to every horse owner. the movement cure.--the history and philosophy, of this system of medical treatment, with examples of single movements, the principles of massage, and directions for their use in various forms of chronic diseases. new edition by g. h. taylor, m.d. $ . . massage.--giving the principles and directions for its application in all forms of chronic diseases, by g. h. taylor, m.d. $ . the science of a new life.--by john cowan, m.d. ex. clo. $ . . tobacco: its physical, intellectual and moral effects on the human system, by dr. alcott. new and revised edition with notes and additions by n. sizer. c. sober and temperate life.--the discourses and letters of louis corbaro on a sober and temperate life. c. smoking and drinking. by james parton. c.; cloth. c. food and diet. with observations on the dietetical regimen, suited for disordered states of the digestive organs, by j. pereira, m.d., f.r.s. $ . . principles applied to the preservation of health and the improvement of physical and mental education, by andrew combe, m.d. illustrated, cloth, $ . . water cure in chronic diseases. an exposition of the causes, progress, and termination of various chronic diseases of the digestive organs, lungs, nerves. limbs and skin, and of their treatment by water and other hygienic means. by j. m. gully, m.d. $ . . science of human life. with a copious index and biographical sketch of the author, sylvester graham. illustrated, $ . . management of infancy, physiological and moral treatment. with notes and a supplementary chapter. $ . . diet question.--giving the reason why, from "health in the household." by s. w. dodds, m.d. c. health miscellany.--an important collection of health papers. nearly octavo pages. c. how to be well, or common sense medical hygiene. a book for the people, giving directions for the treatment and cure of acute diseases without the use of drug medicines; also general hints on health. $ . foreordained.--a story of heredity and of special paternal influences, by an observer. mo. pp. . paper, c.; extra cloth, c. consumption, its prevention and cure by the movement cure. c. notes on beauty, vigor and development; or, how to acquire plumpness of form, strength of limb and beauty of complexion. illustrated. c. tea and coffee.--their physical, intellectual and moral effects on the human system, by dr. alcott. new and revised edition with notes and additions by nelson sizer. c. accidents and emergencies, a guide containing directions for the treatment in bleeding, cuts. sprains, ruptures, dislocations. burns and scalds. bites of mad dogs. choking, poisons, fits, sunstrokes, drowning, etc., by alfred smee, with notes and additions by r. t. trall, m.d. new and revised edition. c. special list.--we have in addition to the above, private medical works and treatises. this special list will be sent on receipt of stamp. works on hygiene by r. t. trall, m.d. _these works may be considered standard from the reformatory hygienic standpoint. thousands of people owe their lives and good health to their teaching._ hydropathic encyclopedia.--a system of hydropathy and hygiene. physiology of the human body; dietetics and hydropathic cookery; theory and practice of water treatment; special pathology and hydro-therapeutics, including the nature, causes, symptoms and treatment of all known diseases; application of hydropathy to midwifery and the nursery with nearly one thousand pages including a glossary. vols. in one $ . hygienic hand-book.--intended as a practical guide for the sick-room. arranged alphabetically. $ . . illustrated family gymnasium.--containing the most improved methods of applying gymnastic, callisthenic, kinesipathic and vocal exercises to the development of the bodily organs, the invigoration of their functions, the preservation of health and the cure of diseases and deformities. $ . . the hydropathic cook-book, with recipes for cooking on hygienic principles. containing also a philosophical exposition of the relations of food to health, the chemical elements and proximate constitution of alimentary principles; the nutritive properties of all kinds of aliments; the relative value of vegetable and animal substances; the selection and preservation of dietetic material, etc. $ . . fruits and farinacea: the proper food of man.--being an attempt to prove by history, anatomy, physiology and chemistry that the original, natural and best diet of man is derived from the vegetable kingdom. by john smith. with notes by trall. $ . . digestion and dyspepsia.--a complete explanation of the physiology of the digestive processes, with the symptoms and treatment of dyspepsia and other disorders. illustrated. $ . . the mother's hygiene hand-book for the normal development and training of women and children, and the treatment of their diseases. $ . . popular physiology.--a familiar exposition of the structures, functions and relations of the human system and the preservation of health. $ . . the true temperance platform.--an exposition of the fallacy of alcoholic medication. cents. the alcoholic controversy.--a review of the _westminster review_ on the physiological errors of teetotalism. cents. the human voice.--its anatomy, physiology, pathology, therapeutics and training, with rules of order for lyceums. cents. the true healing art: or hygienic _vs._ drug medication. an address delivered before the smithsonian institute, washington. d. c. cts.; clo., cents. water-cure for the million.--the processes of water cure explained. rules for bathing, dieting, exercising, recipes for cooking, etc., etc. directions for home treatment. paper. cts. hygeian home cook-book: or healthful and palatable food without condiments. cts. clo., cents. diseases of throat and lungs.--including diphtheria and its proper treatment. cents. the bath.--its history and uses in health and disease. c.; clo., c. a health catechism.--questions and answers. with illus. c. miscellaneous works. hand-books for home improvement (educational); comprising, "how to write," "how to talk," "how to behave," and "how to do business." one mo vol. $ . . how to write.--a manual of composition and letter-writing. c. how to talk.--a pocket manual of conversation and debate, more than five hundred common mistakes in speaking corrected. c. how to behave.--a pocket manual of republican etiquette and guide to correct personal habits with rules for debating societies and deliberative assemblies. c. how to do business.--a manual of practical affairs and a guide to success in life, with a collection of legal and commercial forms. c. how to read.--what and why; or hints in choosing the best books, with a classified list of best works in biography, criticism, fine arts, history, novels, poetry, science, religion, foreign languages, etc. by a. v. petit. cloth, c. how to sing; or, the voice and how to use it. by william h. daniell. c.; clo. c. how to conduct a public meeting; or the chairman's guide for conducting meetings. c. hopes and helps for the young of both sexes.--relating to the formation of character, choice of avocation, health, amusement, music, conversation, social affections, courtship and marriage, by rev g. s. weaver. $ . aims and aids for girls and young women, on the various duties of life. including physical, intellectual and moral development, dress, beauty, fashion, employment, education, the home relations, their duties to young men, marriage, womanhood and happiness, by the same $ . . ways of life, showing the right way and the wrong way contrasting the high way and the low way; the true way and the false way; the upward way and the downward way; the way of honor and of dishonor, by rev. g. s. weaver. c. the christian household.--embracing the husband, wife, father, mother, child, brother and sister, by rev. g. s. weaver. c. weaver's works for the young, comprising "hopes and helps for the young of both sexes," "aims and aids for girls and young women," "ways of life; or, the right way and the wrong way." one vol. mo. $ . a natural system of elocution and oratory.--founded on an analysis of the human constitution, considered in its threefold nature, mental, physiological and expressional. by thos. a. hyde and wm. hyde. illustrated. $ . . the emphatic diaglott, containing the original greek text of the new testament, with an interlineary word-for-word english translation: a new emphatic version based on the interlineary translation, on the readings of the vatican manuscript, by benjamin wilson. pp. $ . . ex., $ . . a bachelor's talks about married life and things adjacent, by rev. william aikman, d.d. $ . life at home; or the family and its members. including husbands and wives, parents, children, brothers, sisters, employers and employed. the altar in the house. by dr. aikman. $ . . gilt. $ . . a lucky waif.--a story for mothers, of home and school life, by ellen e. kenyon. mo. $ . . oratory--sacred and secular; or, the extemporaneous speaker, including a chairman's guide for conducting public meetings according to the best parliamentary forms, by wm. pittenger. $ . . the children of the bible. by fanny l. armstrong, with an introduction by frances e. willard, pres. n. w. c. t. u. clo. $ . the temperance reformation.--its history from the first temperance society in the u. s. to the adoption of the maine liquor law. $ . . Æsop's fables.--with seventy splendid illustrations. one vol. mo. fancy cloth, gilt edges, $ . pope's essay on man, with illustrations and notes by s. r. wells, tinted paper, clo. full gilt. $ . . gems of goldsmith; "the traveler," "the deserted village," "the hermit." with notes and original illustrations, and biographical sketch of the great author. one vol., fancy cloth, full gilt. $ . . the rime of the ancient mariner. in seven parts. by samuel t. coleridge. with new illus. by chapman, fancy clo., full gilt, $ . immortality inherent in nature. by sumner barlow, author of "the voices" and other poems, ex. cloth, full gilt. c. how to paint.--a complete compendium of the art. designed for the use of tradesmen, mechanics, merchants and farmers, and a guide to the professional painter. containing a plain common sense statement of the methods employed by painters to produce satisfactory results in plain and fancy painting of every description including gilding, bronzing, staining, graining, marbling. varnishing, polishing, kalsomining, paper hanging, striping, lettering, copying and ornamenting, with formulas for mixing paint in oil or water. description of various pigments used; tools required etc. $ . . carriage painter's illustrated manual, containing a treatise on the art, science and mystery of coach, carriage, and car painting. including the improvements in fine gilding, bronzing, staining, varnishing, polishing, copying, lettering, scrolling, and ornamenting. by f. b. gardner. $ . . how to keep a store; embodying the experience of thirty years, in merchandizing. by s. h. terry. $ . . how to raise fruit.--a hand-book. being a guide to the cultivation and management of fruit trees, and of grapes and small fruits. with descriptions of the best and most popular varieties. illustrated. by thomas gregg. $ . . how to be weather-wise.--a new view of our weather system, by i. p. noyes. c. how to live.--saving and wasting; or, domestic economy illustrated by the life of two families of opposite character, habits, and practices, useful lessons in housekeeping and hints how to live, how to have, and how to be happy including the story of "a dime a day," by solon robinson. $ . . homes for all; or the gravel wall. a new cheap and superior mode of building, adapted to rich and poor. showing the superiority of the gravel concrete over brick, stone and frame houses; manner of making and depositing it. by o. s. fowler. $ . . the model potato.--proper cultivation and mode of cooking. c. three visits to america, by emily faithful. pages. $ . . a new theory of the origin of species. by benj. g. farris. $ . . man in genesis and in geology, or, the biblical account of man's creation tested by scientific theories of his origin and antiquity, by j. p. thompson, d.d., ll.d. $ . file was produced from images from the home economics archive: research, tradition and history, albert r. mann library, cornell university) _the book of_ business etiquette _the book of_ business etiquette garden city new york doubleday, page & company copyright, , by doubleday, page & company all rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the scandinavian printed in the united states at the country life press, garden city, n. y. _first edition_ respectfully inscribed (as befits an author) to three business men acknowledgment it would be a pleasure to call over by name and thank individually the business men and the business organizations that so graciously furnished the material upon which this little book is based. but the author feels that some of them will not agree with all the statements made and the inferences drawn, and for this reason is unable to do better than give this meager return for a service which was by no means meager. contents part i chapter page i. the american business man ii. the value of courtesy iii. putting courtesy into business iv. personality v. table manners vi. telephones and front doors vii. traveling and selling viii. the business of writing ix. morals and manners part ii x. "big business" xi. in a department store xii. a while with a traveling man xiii. tables for two or more xiv. ladies first? [transcriber's note: please note that the book does not credit an author. the library of congress lists nella henney as the author.] part i the book of business etiquette i the american business man the business man is the national hero of america, as native to the soil and as typical of the country as baseball or broadway or big advertising. he is an interesting figure, picturesque and not unlovable, not so dashing perhaps as a knight in armor or a soldier in uniform, but he is not without the noble (and ignoble) qualities which have characterized the tribe of man since the world began. america, in common with other countries, has had distinguished statesmen and soldiers, authors and artists--and they have not all gone to their graves unhonored and unsung--but the hero story which belongs to her and to no one else is the story of the business man. nearly always it has had its beginning in humble surroundings, with a little boy born in a log cabin in the woods, in a wretched shanty at the edge of a field, in a crowded tenement section or in the slums of a foreign city, who studied and worked by daylight and firelight while he made his living blacking boots or selling papers until he found the trail by which he could climb to what we are pleased to call success. measured by the standards of greece and rome or the middle ages, when practically the only form of achievement worth mentioning was fighting to kill, his career has not been a romantic one. it has had to do not with dragons and banners and trumpets, but with stockyards and oil fields, with railroads, sewer systems, heat, light, and water plants, telephones, cotton, corn, ten-cent stores and--we might as well make a clean breast of it--chewing gum. we have no desire to crown the business man with a halo, though judging from their magazines and from the stories which they write of their own lives, they are almost without spot or blemish. most of them seem not even to have had faults to overcome. they were born perfect. now the truth is that the methods of accomplishment which the american business man has used have not always been above reproach and still are not. at the same time it would not be hard to prove that he--and here we are speaking of the average--with all his faults and failings (and they are many), with all his virtues (and he is not without them), is superior in character to the business men of other times in other countries. this without boasting. it would be a great pity if he were not. without trying to settle the question as to whether he is good or bad (and he really can be pigeon-holed no better than any one else) we have to accept this: he is the biggest factor in the american commonwealth to-day. it follows then, naturally, that what he thinks and feels will color and probably dominate the ideas and the ideals of the rest of the country. numbers of our magazines--and they are as good an index as we have to the feeling of the general public--are given over completely to the service or the entertainment of business men (the t. b. m.) and an astonishing amount of space is devoted to them in most of the others. it may be, and as a matter of fact constantly is, debated whether all this is good for the country or not. we shall not go into that. it has certainly been good for business, and in considering the men who have developed our industries we have to take them, and maybe it is just as well, as they are and not as we think they ought to be. there was a time when the farmer was the principal citizen. and the politician ingratiated himself with the people by declaring that he too had split rails and followed the plow, had harvested grain and had suffered from wet spells and dry spells, low prices, dull seasons, hunger and hardship. this is still a pretty sure way to win out, but there are others. if he can refer feelingly to the days when he worked and sweated in a coal mine, in a printing shop, a cotton, wool, or silk mill, steel or motor plant, he can hold his own with the ex-farmer's boy. we have become a nation of business men. even the "dirt" farmer has become a business man--he has learned that he not only has to produce, he must find a market for his product. in comparing the business man of the present with the business man of the past we must remember that he is living in a more difficult world. life was comparatively simple when men dressed in skins and ate roots and had their homes in scattered caves. they felt no need for a code of conduct because they felt no need for one another. they depended not on humanity but on nature, and perhaps human brotherhood would never have come to have a meaning if nature had not proved treacherous. she gave them berries and bananas, sunshine and soft breezes, but she gave them trouble also in the shape of wild beasts, and savages, terrible droughts, winds, and floods. in order to fight against these enemies, strength was necessary, and when primitive men discovered that two were worth twice as much as one they began to join forces. this was the beginning of civilization and of politeness. it rose out of the oldest instinct in the world--self-preservation. when men first organized into groups the units were small, a mere handful of people under a chief, but gradually they became larger and larger until the nations of to-day have grown into a sort of world community composed of separate countries, each one supreme in its own domain, but at the same time bound to the others by economic ties stronger than sentimental or political ones could ever be. people are now more dependent on one another than they have ever been before, and the need for confidence is greater. we cannot depend upon one another unless we can trust one another. the american community is in many respects the most complex the world has ever seen, and the hardest to manage. in other countries the manners have been the natural result of the national development. the strong who had risen to the top in the struggle for existence formed themselves into a group. the weak who stayed at the bottom fell into another, and the bulk of the populace, which, then as now, came somewhere in between, fell into a third or was divided according to standards of its own. custom solidified the groups into classes which became so strengthened by years of usage that even when formal distinctions were broken down the barriers were still too solid for a man who was born into a certain group to climb very easily into the one above him. custom also dictated what was expected of the several classes. each must be gracious to those below and deferential to those above. the king, because he was king, must be regal. the nobility must, _noblesse oblige_, be magnificent, and as for the rest of the people, it did not matter much so long as they worked hard and stayed quiet. there were upheavals, of course, and now and then a slave with a braver heart and a stouter spirit than his companions incited them to rebellion. his head was chopped off for his pains and he was promptly forgotten. the majority of the people for thousands of years honestly believed that this was the only orderly basis upon which society could be organized. nebulous ideas of a brotherhood, in which each man was to have an equal chance with every other, burned brightly for a little while in various parts of the world at different times, and flickered out. they broke forth with the fury of an explosion in france during the revolution and in russia during the red terror. they have smoldered quietly in some places and had just begun to break through with a steady, even flame. but america struck the match and gathered the wood to start her own fire. she is the first country in the world which was founded especially to promote individual freedom and the brotherhood of mankind. she had, to change the figure slightly, a blue-print to start with and she has been building ever since. her material came from the eastern hemisphere. the nations there at the time when the united states was settled were at different stages of their development. some were vigorous with youth, some were in the height of their glory, and some were dying because the descendants of the men who had made them great were futile and incapable. these nations were different in race and religion, in thought, language, traditions, and temperament. when they were not quarreling with each other, they were busy with domestic squabbles. they had kept this up for centuries and were at it when the settlers landed at jamestown and later when the _mayflower_ came to plymouth rock. yet, with a cheerful disregard of the past and an almost sublime hope in the future they expected to live happily ever after they crossed the atlantic ocean. needless to add, they did not. accident of place cannot change a man's color (though it may bleach it a shade lighter or tan it a shade darker), nor his religion nor any of the other racial and inherent qualities which are the result of slow centuries of development. and the same elements which made men fight in the old countries set them against each other in the new. most of the antagonisms were and are the result of prejudices, foolish narrow prejudices, which, nevertheless, must be beaten down before we can expect genuine courtesy. further complications arose, and are still arising, from the fact that we did not all get here at the same time. those who came first have inevitably and almost unconsciously formulated their own system of manners. wherever there is community life and a certain amount of leisure there is a standard of cultivated behavior. and america, young as she is, has already accumulated traditions of her own. it is beyond doubt that the men who came over in the early days were, as a rule, better timber than the ones who come now. they came to live and die, if necessary, for a religious or a political principle, for adventure, or like the debtors in oglethorpe's colony in georgia, to wipe clean the slate of the past and begin life again. to-day they come to make money or because they think they will find life easier here than it was where they were. and one of the chief reasons for the discontent and unrest (and, incidentally, rudeness) which prevails among them is that they find it hard. we are speaking in general terms. there are glorious exceptions. the sturdy virtues of the pioneers did not include politeness. they never do. so long as there is an animal fear of existence man cannot think of minor elegances. he cannot live by bread alone, but he cannot live at all without it. bread must come first. and the pilgrim father was too busy learning how to wring a living from the forbidding rocks of new england with one hand while he fought off the indians with the other to give much time to tea parties and luncheons. nowhere in america except in the south, where the leisurely life of the plantations gave opportunity for it, was any great attention paid to formal courtesy. but everywhere, as soon as the country had been tamed and prosperity began to peep over the horizon, the pioneers began to grow polite. they had time for it. what we must remember--and this is a reason, not an excuse, for bad manners--is that these new people coming into the country, the present-day immigrants, are pioneers, and that the life is not an easy one whether it is lived among a wilderness of trees and beasts in a forest or a wilderness of men and buildings in a city. the average american brings a good many charges against the foreigner--some of them justified, for much of the "back-wash" of europe and asia has drifted into our harbor--but he must remember this: whatever his opinion of the immigrant may be the fault is ours--he came into this country under the sanction of our laws. and he is entitled to fair and courteous treatment from every citizen who lives under the folds of the american flag. the heterogeneous mixture which makes up our population is a serious obstacle (but not an insuperable one) in the way of courtesy, but there is another even greater. the first is america's problem. the second belongs to the world. material progress has raced so far ahead of mental and spiritual progress that the world itself is a good many years in advance of the people who are living in it. our statesmen ride to washington in automobiles and sleeping cars, but they are not vastly preferable to those who went there in stagecoaches and on horseback. in other words, there has been considerably more improvement in the vehicles which fill our highways than there has been in the people who ride in them. the average man--who is, when all is said and done, the most important person in the state--has stood still while the currents of science and invention have swept past him. he has watched the work of the world pass into the keeping of machines, shining miracles of steel and electricity, and has forgot himself in worshipping them. now he is beginning to realize that it is much easier to make a perfect machine than it is to find a perfect man to put behind it, and that man himself, even at his worst (and that is pretty bad) is worth more than anything else in the scheme of created things. this tremendous change in environment resulting from the overwhelming domination of machinery has brought about a corresponding change in manners. for manners consist, in the main, of adapting oneself to one's surroundings. and the story of courtesy is the story of evolution. it is interesting to run some of our conventions back to their origin. nearly every one of them grew out of a practical desire for lessening friction or making life pleasanter. the first gesture of courtesy was, no doubt, some form of greeting by which one man could know another as a friend and not an enemy. they carried weapons then as habitually as they carry watches to-day and used them as frequently, so that when a man approached his neighbor to talk about the prospects of the sugar or berry crop he held out his right hand, which was the weapon hand, as a sign of peace. this eventually became the handshake. raising one's hat is a relic of the days of chivalry when knights wore helmets which they removed when they came into the house, both because they were more comfortable without them and because it showed their respect for the ladies, whom it was their duty to serve. and nearly every other ceremony which has lasted was based on common sense. "etiquette," as dr. brown has said, "with all its littlenesses and niceties, is founded upon a central idea of right and wrong." the word "courtesy" itself did not come into the language until late (etiquette came even later) and then it was used to describe the polite practices at court. it was wholly divorced from any idea of character, and the most fastidious gentlemen were sometimes the most complete scoundrels. even the authors of books of etiquette were men of great superficial elegance whose moral standards were scandalously low. one of them, an italian, was banished from court for having published an indecent poem and wrote his treatise on polite behavior while he was living in enforced retirement in his villa outside the city. it was translated for the edification of the young men of england and france and served as a standard for several generations. another, an englishman, spent the later years of his life writing letters to his illegitimate son, telling him exactly how to conduct himself in the courtly (and more or less corrupt) circles to which his noble rank entitled him. the letters were bound into a fat, dreary volume which still sits on the dust-covered shelves of many a library, and the name of the author has become a synonym for exquisite manners. influential as he was in his own time, however, neither he nor any of the others of the early arbiters of elegance could set himself up as a dictator of what is polite to american men, of no matter what class, and get by with it. not very far by, at any rate. it is impossible now to separate courtesy and character. politeness is a fundamental, not a superficial, thing. it is the golden rule translated into terms of conduct. it is not a white-wash which, if laid on thick enough, will cover every defect. it is a clear varnish which shows the texture and grain of the wood beneath. in the ideal democracy the ideal citizen is the man who is not only incapable of doing an ungallant or an ungracious thing, but is equally incapable of doing an unmanly one. there is no use lamenting the spacious days of long ago. wishing for them will not bring them back. our problem is to put the principles of courtesy into practice even in this hurried and hectic twentieth century of ours. and since the business man is in numbers, and perhaps in power also, the most consequential person in the country, it is of most importance that he should have a high standard of behavior, a high standard of civility, which includes not only courtesy but everything which has to do with good citizenship. we have no desire for candy-box courtesy. it should be made of sterner stuff. nor do we care for the sort which made the polite frenchman say, "excusez-moi" when he stabbed his adversary. we can scarcely hope just yet to attain to the magnificent calm which enabled marie antoinette to say, "i'm sorry. i did not do it on purpose," when she stepped on the foot of her executioner as they stood together on the scaffold, or lord chesterfield, gentleman to the very end, to say, "give dayrolles a chair" when his physician came into the room in which he lay dying. but we do want something that will enable us to live together in the world with a minimum degree of friction. the best of us get on one another's nerves, even under ordinary conditions, and it takes infinite pains and self-control to get through a trying day in a busy office without striking sparks somewhere. if there is a secret of success, and some of the advertisements seem trying to persuade us that it is all secret, it is the ability to work efficiently and pleasantly with other people. the business man never works alone. he is caught in the clutches of civilization and there is no escape. he is like a man climbing a mountain tied to a lot of other men climbing the same mountain. what each one does affects all the others. we do not want our people to devote themselves entirely to the art of being agreeable. if we could conceive of a world where everybody was perfectly polite and smiling all the time we should hardly like to live in it. it is human nature not to like perfection, and most of us, if brought face to face with that model of behavior, mr. turveydrop, who spent his life serving as a pattern of deportment, would sympathize with the delightful old lady who looked at him in the full flower of his glory and cried viciously (but under her breath) "i could bite you!" when pope benedict xi sent a messenger to giotto for a sample of his work the great artist drew a perfect circle with one sweep of his arm and gave it to the boy. before his death giotto executed many marvelous works of art, not one of them perfect, not even the magnificent bell tower at florence, but all of them infinitely greater than the circle. it is better, whether one is working with bricks or souls, to build nobly than to build perfectly. ii the value of courtesy every progressive business man will agree with the successful western manufacturer who says that "courtesy can pay larger dividends in proportion to the effort expended than any other of the many human characteristics which might be classed as instruments of accomplishment." but this was not always true. in the beginning "big business" assumed an arrogant, high-handed attitude toward the public and rode rough-shod over its feelings and rights whenever possible. this was especially the case among the big monopolies and public service corporations, and much of the antagonism against the railroads to-day is the result of the methods they used when they first began to lay tracks and carry passengers. nor was this sort of thing limited to the large concerns. small business consisted many times of trickery executed according to david harum's motto of "do unto the other feller as he would like to do unto you, but do him fust." the public is a long-suffering body and the business man is a hard-headed one, but after a while the public began to realize that it was not necessary to put up with gross rudeness and the business man began to realize that a policy of pleasantness was much better than the "treat 'em rough" idea upon which he had been acting. he deserves no special credit for it. it was as simple and as obvious a thing as putting up an umbrella when it is raining. people knew, long before this enlightened era of ours, that politeness had value. in one of the oldest books of good manners in the english language a man with "an eye to the main chance" advised his pupils to cultivate honesty, gentleness, propriety, and deportment because they paid. but it has not been until recently that business men as a whole have realized that courtesy is a practical asset to them. business cannot be separated from money and there is no use to try. men work that they may live. and the reason they have begun to develop and exploit courtesy is that they have discovered that it makes for better work and better living. success, they have learned, in spite of the conspicuous wealth of several magnates who got their money by questionable means, depends upon good will and good will depends upon the square deal courteously given. the time is within the memory of living men, and very young men at that, when the idea of putting courtesy into business dealings sprang up, but it has taken hold remarkably. when the hudson tubes were opened not quite a decade and a half ago mr. mcadoo inaugurated what was at that time an almost revolutionary policy. he took the motto, "the public be pleased," instead of the one made famous by mr. vanderbilt, and posted it all about, had pamphlets distributed, and made a speech on courtesy in railroad management and elsewhere. since that time, not altogether because of the precedent which had been established, but because people were beginning to realize that with this new element creeping into business the old régime had to die because it could not compete with it, there have been all sorts of courtesy campaigns among railroad and bus companies, and even among post office and banking employees, to mention only two of the groups notorious for haughty and arrogant behavior. the effects of a big telephone company have been so strenuous and so well planned and executed that they are reserved for discussion in another chapter. mr. mcadoo tells a number of charming stories which grew out of the hudson tubes experiment. one day during a political convention when he was standing in the lobby of a hotel in a certain city a jeweler came over to him after a slight moment of hesitation, gave him one of his cards and said, "mr. mcadoo, i owe you a great debt of gratitude. for that," he added, pointing to "the public be pleased" engraved in small letters on the card just above his name. "i was in new york the day the tunnel was opened," he continued, "and i heard your speech, and said to myself that it might be a pretty good idea to try that in the jewelry trade. and would you believe it, my profits during the first year were more than fifty per cent bigger than they were the year before?" and we venture to add that the jeweler was more than twice as happy and that it was not altogether because there was more money in his coffers. mr. mcadoo is a man with whom courtesy is not merely a policy: it is a habit as well. he places it next to integrity of character as a qualification for a business man, and he carries it into every part of his personal activity, as the statesmen and elevator boys, waiters and financiers, politicians and stenographers with whom he has come into contact can testify. "i never have a secretary," he says, "who is not courteous, no matter what his other qualifications may be." during the past few years mr. mcadoo has been placed in a position to be sought after by all kinds of people, and in nearly every instance he has given an interview to whoever has asked for it. "i have always felt," we quote him again, "that a public servant should be as accessible to the public as possible." courtesy with him, as with any one else who makes it a habit, has a cumulative effect. the effect cannot always be traced as in the case of the jeweler or in the story given below in which money plays a very negligible part, but it is always there. on one occasion--this was when he was president of the hudson railroad--mr. mcadoo was on his way up to the adirondacks when the train broke down. it was ill provided for such a catastrophe, there was no dining car, only a small buffet, and the wait was a long and trying one. when mr. mcadoo after several hours went back to the buffet to see if he could get a cup of coffee and some rolls he found the conductor almost swamped by irate passengers who blamed him, in the way that passengers will, for something that was no more his fault than theirs. the conductor glanced up when mr. mcadoo came in, expecting him to break into an explosion of indignation, but mr. mcadoo said, "well, you have troubles enough already without my adding to them." the conductor stepped out of the group. "what did you want, sir?" he asked. "why, nothing, now," mr. mcadoo responded. "i did want a cup of coffee, but never mind about it." "come into the smoker here," the conductor said. "wait a minute." the conductor disappeared and came back in a few minutes with coffee, bread, and butter. mr. mcadoo thanked him warmly, gave him his card and told him that if he ever thought he could do anything for him to let him know. the conductor looked at the card. "are you the president of the hudson railroad?" "yes." "well, maybe there's something you can do for me now. there are two men out here who say they are going to report me for what happened this morning. you know how things have been, and if they do, i wish you would write to headquarters and explain. i'm in line for promotion and you know what a black mark means in a case like that." mr. mcadoo assured him that he would write if it became necessary. the men were bluffing, however, and the complaint was never sent in. apparently the incident was closed. several years later mr. mcadoo's son was coming down from the adirondacks when he lost his pullman ticket. he did not discover the fact until he got to the station, and then he had no money and no time to get any by wire before the train left. he went to the conductor, explained his dilemma, and told him that if he would allow him to ride down to the city his father, who was to meet him at the grand central station, would pay him for the ticket. the conductor liked the youngster--perhaps because there was something about him that reminded him of his father, for as chance would have it, the conductor was the same one who had brought mr. mcadoo the coffee and bread in the smoking car so many months before. "who is your father?" he asked. "mr. mcadoo." "president of the hudson railroad?" "yes." "boy, you can have the train!" so far as monetary value of courtesy is concerned we might recount hundreds of instances where a single act of politeness brought in thousands of dollars. only the other morning the papers carried the story of a man who thirty years ago went into a tailor's shop with a ragged tear in his trousers and begged the tailor to mend it and to trust him for the payment which amounted to fifty cents. the tailor agreed cheerfully enough and the man went his way, entered business and made a fortune. he died recently and left the tailor fifty thousand dollars. not long before that there was a story of an old woman who came to new york to visit her nephew--it was to be a surprise--and lost her bearings so completely when she got into the station that she was about ready to turn around and go back home when a very polite young man noticed her bewilderment. he offered his services, called a taxi and deposited her in front of her nephew's door in half an hour. she took his name and address and a few days later he received a check large enough to enable him to enter the columbia law school. a banker is fond of telling the story of an old fellow who came into his bank one day in a suit of black so old that it had taken on a sickly greenish tinge. he fell into the hands of a polite clerk who answered all his questions--and there were a great many of them--clearly, patiently, and courteously. the old man went away but came back in a day or so with $ , which he placed on deposit. "i did have some doubts," he said, "but this young man settled them all." word of it went to people in authority and the clerk was promoted. now it is pleasant to know that these good people were rewarded as they deserved to be. we would be very happy if we could promise a like reward to every one who is similarly kind, but it is no use. the little words of love and the little deeds of kindness go often without recompense so far as we can see, except that they happify the world, but that in itself is no small return. courtesy pays in dollars and cents but its value goes far beyond that. it is the chief element in building good will--we are speaking now of courtesy as an outgrowth of character--and good will is to a firm what honor is to a man. he can lose everything else but so long as he keeps his honor he has something to build with. in the same way a business can lose all its material assets and can replace them with insurance money or something else, but if it loses its good will it will find in ninety cases out of a hundred that it is gone forever and that the business itself has become so weakened that there is nothing left but to reorganize it completely and blot out the old institution altogether. one must not make the mistake of believing that good will can be built on courtesy alone. courtesy must be backed up by something more solid. an excellent comparison to show the relation that good manners bear to uprightness and integrity of character was drawn a number of years ago by a famous italian prelate. we shall paraphrase the quaint english of the original translator. "just as men do commonly fear beasts that are cruel and wild," he says, "and have no manner of fear of little ones such as gnats and flies, and yet because of the continual nuisance which they find them, complain more of these than they do of the other: so most men hate the unmannerly and untaught as much as they do the wicked, and more. there is no doubt that he who wishes to live, not in solitary and desert places, like a hermit, but in fellowship with men, and in populous cities, will find it a very necessary thing, to have skill to put himself forth comely and seemly in his fashions, gestures, and manners: the lack of which do make other virtues lame." granting dependability of character, courtesy is the next finest business builder an organization can have. one of the largest trust companies in the world was built up on this hypothesis. a good many years ago the man who is responsible for its growth was cashier in a "busted" bank in a small city. the situation was a desperate one, for the bank could not do anything more for its customers than it was already doing. it could not give them more interest on their money and most of its other functions were mechanical. the young cashier began to wonder why people went to one bank in preference to another and in his own mind drew a comparison between the banking and the clothing business. he always went to the haberdasher who treated him best. other men he knew did the same thing. would not the same principle work in a bank? would not people come to the place which gave them the best service? he decided to try it. not only would they give efficient service, they would give it pleasantly. it was their last card but it was a trump. it won. the bank began to prosper. people who were annoyed by rude, brusque, or indifferent treatment in other banks came to this one. the cashier was raised to a position of importance and in an incredibly short time was made president of a trust company in new york. he carried with him exactly the same principle that had worked so well in the little bank and the result in the big one was exactly the same. in a leaflet which is in circulation among the employees at this institution there are these paragraphs: we ask you to remember: that our customers _can_ get along without us. (there are in greater new york nearly one hundred banks and trust companies, every one of them actively seeking business.) we _cannot_ get along without our customers. a connection which, perhaps, it has taken us several months to establish, can be terminated by one careless or discourteous act. our customers are asked to maintain balances of certain proportions. if they wish to borrow money, they must deposit collateral. they must repay loans when they mature; or arrange for their extension. if a bank errs, it must err on the side of safety, for the money it loans is not its own money but the money of its depositors. we (and every other bank and trust company) operate almost entirely on money which our customers have deposited with us. the least we can do, then, is to serve them courteously. they really are our employers. ours is a semi-public institution. every day, men try to interest us in matters with which we have no concern. it is our duty to tell these men, very courteously, why their proposals do not appeal to us. but they are entitled to a hearing. it may be that they are not in a position to benefit us, and never will be. but almost every man can harm us, if he tries to do so. and a pleasantly expressed declination invariably makes a better impression than a favor grudgingly granted. we ask you, then, to remember that our growth--and your opportunities--depend not only upon the friends we make, but _the enemies we do not make_. remember names and faces. do something, say something that will bring home to those who do business with us the fact that the blank trust company is a very human institution--that it wants the good will of every man and woman in the country. that is the kind of courtesy which has builded this particular organization. it is a pleasure to visit it to-day because of the spirit of coöperation which animates it. they have done away with the elaborate spy systems in use in so many banks, although they keep the management well enough in hand to be able to fasten the blame for mistakes upon the right person. the employees work with one another and with the president, whom they adore. it is, as a matter of fact, largely the influence of the personality of the president filtering down through the ranks which has made possible the phenomenal success which the institution has enjoyed during the past few years, another proof of the fact that every institution--and emerson was speaking of great institutions when he said it--"is the lengthened shadow of one man." banks have almost a peculiar problem. money is a mighty power, and to the average person there is something very awesome about the place where it is kept. mr. stephen leacock is not the only man who ever went into a bank with a funny little guilty feeling even when he had money in it. when one is in this frame of mind it takes very little on the part of the clerk to make him believe that he has been treated rudely. bank clerks are notoriously haughty, but the fault is often as much in the person on the outside as in the one on the inside of the bars, especially when he has come in to draw out money which he knows he should not, such as his savings bank account, for instance. the other day a young man went into a savings bank to draw out all of his money for a purpose which he knew was extravagant although he had persuaded himself that it was not. throughout the whole time he was in the bank he was treated with perfect courtesy, but in spite of it he came out growling about "the dirty look the paying teller gave him!" it is not only in the first contact that civility is important. eternal vigilance is the price of success as well as of liberty. another incident from the banking business illustrates this. several years ago a bank which had been steadily losing customers called in a publicity expert to build up trade for them. the man organized a splendid campaign and things started off with a flourish. people began to come in most gratifying numbers. but they did not stay. an investigation conducted by the publicity man disclosed the fact that they had been driven away by negligent and discourteous service. he went to the president of the bank and told him that he was wasting money building up advertising so long as his bank maintained its present attitude toward the public. the president was a man of practical sense. there was a general clearing up, those who were past reform were discharged and those who stayed were given careful training in what good breeding meant and there was no more trouble. advertising will bring in a customer but it takes courtesy to keep him. business, like nearly everything else, is easier to tear down than to build up, and one of the most devastating instruments of destruction is discourtesy. a contact which has taken years to build can be broken off by one snippy letter, one pert answer, or one discourteous response over the telephone. even collection letters, no matter how long overdue the accounts are, bring in more returns when they are written with tact and diplomacy than when these two qualities are omitted. if you insult a man who owes you money he feels that the only way he can get even is not to pay you, and in most cases, he can justify himself for not doing it. within the organization itself a courteous attitude on the part of the men in positions of authority toward those beneath them is of immense importance. sap rises from the bottom, and a business has arrived at the point of stagnation when the men at the top refuse to listen to or help those around them. it is, as a rule, however, not the veteran in commercial affairs but the fledgling who causes most trouble by his bad manners. young men, especially young men who have been fortunate in securing material advantages, too many times look upon the world as an accident placed here for their personal enjoyment. it never takes long in business to relieve their minds of this delusion, but they sometimes accomplish a tremendous amount of damage before it happens. for a pert, know-it-all manner coupled with the inefficiency which is almost inseparable from a total lack of experience is not likely to make personal contacts pleasant. every young man worth his salt believes that he can reform the world, but every old man who has lived in it knows that it cannot be done. somewhere half way between they meet and say, "we'll keep working at it just the same," and then business begins to pick up. but reaching the meeting ground takes tolerance and patience and infinite politeness from both sides. "it is the grossest sort of incivility," the quotation is not exact, for we do not remember the source, "to be contemptuous of any kind of knowledge." and herein lies the difficulty between the hard-headed business man of twenty years' experience and the youngster upon whose diploma the ink has not yet dried. "ignorance," declares a man who has spent his life in trying to draw capital and labor together and has succeeded in hundreds of factories, "is the cause of all trouble." and a lack of understanding, which is a form of ignorance, is the cause of nearly all discourtesy. so long as there is discourtesy in the world there must be protection against it, and the best, cheapest, and easiest means of protection is courtesy itself. boats which are in constant danger of being run into, such as the tug and ferry boats in a busy harbor, are fitted out with buffers or fenders which are as much a part of their equipment as the smokestack, and in many cases, as necessary. ocean liners carry fenders to be thrown over the side when there is need for them, but this naturally is not as often as in more crowded waters. a single boat on a deserted sea with nothing but sea-gulls and flying fish in sight cannot damage any one besides herself. but the moment she enters a harbor she has to take into account every other vessel in it from the _aquitania_ to the flat-bottomed row-boat with only one man in it. it is a remarkable fact that most of the boats that are injured or sunk by collision are damaged by vessels much smaller than themselves. most of these accidents (this statement is given on the authority of an able seaman) could have been prevented by the use of a fender thrown over the side at the proper moment. politeness is like this. it is the finest shock absorber in the world, as essential from an economic point of view as it is pleasant from a social one. in business there is no royal isolation. we are all ferry boats. we need our shock absorbers every minute of the day. no boat has a right to run into another, but they do it just the same, and a shock absorber is worth all the curses the captain and the crew can pronounce, however righteous their indignation toward the offending vessel. sometimes politeness is better than justice. most of the causes of irritation during the course of a business day are too petty to bother about. many of them could be ignored and a good many more could be laughed at. a sense of humor and a sense of proportion would do away with ninety per cent of all the wrangling in the world. some one has said, and not without truth, that a highly developed sense of humor would have prevented the world war. too many people use sledge-hammers when tack hammers would do just as well. they belong in the same company with william jay whose immortal epitaph bears these words: here lies the body of william jay who died maintaining his right of way. he was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he'd been wrong. courtesy is restful. a nervous frenzy of energy throughout the day leaves one at sunset as exhausted as a punctured balloon. the fussy little fellow who fancies himself rushed to death, who has no time to talk with anybody, who cannot be polite to his stenographer and his messenger boys because he is in such a terrible hurry, is dissipating his energy into something that does not matter and using up the vitality which should go into his work. he is very like the engine which president lincoln was so fond of telling about which used so much steam in blowing its whistle that every time it did it it had to stop. the orientals manage things better than we do. "we tried hurrying two thousand years ago," a banker in constantinople said to a tired american business man, "and found that it did not pay. so we gave it up." there is always time to be polite, and though it sounds like a contradiction, there will be more time to spare if one devotes a part of his day to courtesy. but there is danger in too much courtesy. every virtue becomes a vice if it is carried too far, and frank rudeness is better than servility or hypocrisy. commercial greed, there is no other name for it, leads a firm to adopt some such idiotic motto as "the customer is always right." no organization could ever live up to such a policy, and the principle back of it is undemocratic, un-american, unsound and untrue. the customer is not always right and the employer in a big (or little) concern who places girls (department stores are the chief sinners in this) on the front line of approach with any such instructions is a menace to self-respecting business. america does not want a serving class with a "king-can-do-no-wrong" attitude toward the public. business is service, not servility, and courtesy works both ways. there is no more sense in business proclaiming that the customer is always right than there would be in a customer declaring that business is always right, and no more truth. no good business man will argue with a customer, or anybody else, not only because it is bad policy to do so, but because his self-respect will not allow it. he will give and require from his employees courteous treatment toward his customers, and when doubt arises he will give them (the customers) the benefit of it. and he will always remember that he is dealing with an intelligent human being. the customer has a right to expect a firm to supply him with reliable commodities and to do it pleasantly, but he has no right to expect it to prostrate itself at his feet in order to retain his trade, however large that trade may be. too little has been said about courtesy on the part of the customer and the public--that great headless mass of unrelated particles. business is service, we say, and the master is the public, the hardest one in the world to serve. each one of us speaks with more or less pitying contempt of the public, forgetting that we ourselves are the public and that the sum total of the good breeding, intelligence, and character of the public can be no greater than that of the individuals who make it up. "sid," of the _american magazine_, says that he once asked the manager of a circus which group of his employees he had most trouble keeping. quite unexpectedly the man replied, "the attendants. they get 'sucker-sore' and after that they are no good." this is how it happens. the wild man from borneo is placed in a cage with a placard attached bearing in big letters the legend "the wild man from borneo." an old farmer comes to the circus, looks at the wild man from borneo in his cage, reads the placard, looks at the attendant, "is this the wild man from borneo?" he asks. no human being can stand an unlimited amount of this sort of thing, and the attendant, after he has explained some hundred thousand or so times that this really is the wild man from borneo begins to lose his zest for it and to answer snappishly and sarcastically. an infinite supply of courtesy would, of course, be a priceless asset to him, but does not this work both ways? what right have people to bother other people with perfectly foolish and imbecile questions? is there any one who cannot sympathize with a "sucker-sore" attendant? and with the people who are stationed about for the purpose of answering questions almost anywhere? there are not many of us who at one time and another have not had the feeling that we were on the wrong train even after we had asked the man who sold us the ticket, the man who punched it at the gate, the guard who was standing near the entrance, and the guard who was standing near the train, the porter, the conductor, and the news-butcher if it was the right one and have had an affirmative answer from every one of them. how many times can a man be expected to answer such a question with a smile? for those who are exposed to "suckers" the best advice is to be as gentle with them as possible, to grit your teeth and hold your temper even when the ninety-thousandth man comes through to ask if this is the right train. for the "suckers" themselves there are only two words of advice. they include all the rest: stop it. it is impossible to tell what the value of courtesy is. perhaps some day the people who have learned to measure our minds will be able to tell us just what a smile is worth. maybe they can tell us also what spring is worth, and what happiness is worth. meanwhile we do not know. we only know that they are infinitely precious. iii putting courtesy into business we talk a great deal about gentlemen and about democracy and a good many other words which describe noble conceptions without a very clear idea of what they mean. the biggest mistake we make is in thinking of them as something stationary like a monument carved in granite or a stone set upon a hill, when the truth is that they are living ideas subject to the change and growth of all living things. no man has ever yet become a perfect gentleman because as his mind has developed his conception of what a gentleman is has enlarged, just as no country has ever become a perfect democracy because each new idea of freedom has led to broader ideas of freedom. it is very much like walking through a tunnel. at first there is only darkness, and then a tiny pin point of light ahead which grows wider and wider as one advances toward it until, finally, he stands out in the open with the world before him. there is no end to life, and none to human development, at least none that can be conceived of by the finite mind of man. there are hundreds of definitions of a gentleman, none of them altogether satisfactory. cardinal newman says it is almost enough to say that he is one who never gives pain. "they be the men," runs an old chronicle, "whom their race and bloud, or at the least, their virtues, do make noble and knowne." barrow declares that they are the men lifted above the vulgar crowd by two qualities: courage and courtesy. the century dictionary, which is as good an authority as any, says, "a gentleman is a man of good breeding, courtesy, and kindness; hence, a man distinguished for fine sense of honor, strict regard for his obligations, and consideration for the rights and feelings of others." and this is a good enough working standard for anybody. the dictionary is careful to make--and this is important--a gentleman not one who conforms to an outward and conventional standard, but one who follows an inward and personal ideal. of late days there has been a great deal of attention paid to making gentlemen of business men and putting courtesy into all the ramifications of business. without doubt the chief reason for it is the fact that business men themselves have discovered that it pays. one restaurant frankly adopted the motto, "courtesy pays," and had it all fixed up with gilt letters and framed and hung it near the front door, and a number of other places have exactly the same policy for exactly the same reason though they do not all proclaim the fact so boldly. it is not the loftiest motive in the world but it is an intelligent one, and it is better for a man to be polite because he hopes to win success that way than for him not to be polite at all. human conduct, even at its best, is not always inspired by the highest possible motives. not even the religions which men have followed have been able to accomplish this. most of them have held out the hope of heavenly reward in payment for goodness here on earth and countless millions of men (and women, too, for that matter) have kept in the straight and narrow path because they were afraid to step out of it. it may be that they were, intrinsically, no better men than the ones who trod the primrose path to the everlasting bonfire, but they were much easier to live with. and the man who is courteous, who is a gentleman, whatever his motives, is a more agreeable citizen than the one who is not. now how--this is our problem--does one go about making a gentleman? environment plays, comparatively speaking, a very small part. "the appellation of gentleman," this is from a gentleman of the seventeenth century, "is not to be affixed to a man's circumstances, but to his behavior in them." it is extremely doubtful if courtesy can be taught by rule. it is more a matter of atmosphere, and an instinct "for the better side of things and the cleaner surfaces of life." and yet, heredity, training, and environment all enter into the process. it is a polite and pleasant fiction that courtesy is innate and not acquired, and we hear a great deal about the "born lady" and the "born gentleman." they are both myths. babies are not polite, and the "king upon 'is throne with 'is crown upon 'is 'ead" has had, if he is a gentleman, life-long training in the art of being one. there is still in existence a very interesting outline which was given by queen victoria and prince albert to their oldest son, the prince of wales, on his seventeenth birthday. it contained a careful summary of what was expected of him as a christian gentleman and included such items as dress, appearance, deportment, relations with other people, and ability to acquit himself well in whatever company he happened to be thrown. the king and queen, although they were probably unaware of the fact, were acting upon the advice of an authority on good manners at court a number of years before their time. "indeed," says the old manuscript, "from seven to seventeen young gentlemen commonly are carefully enough brought up: but from seventeen to seven-and-twenty (the most dangerous time of all a man's life, and the most slippery to stay well in) they have commonly the rein of all license in their own hand, and specially such as do live in the court." if we bring the sentence up to date, and it is as true now as it was then, we may substitute "business" for "court." business men as well as courtiers find the ages between seventeen and seven-and-twenty "the most slippery to stay well in" for it is during these years that they are establishing themselves in the commercial world. as a general thing, but it is wise to remember that there is no rule to which there are not exceptions, by the time a man is twenty-seven his habits are formed and it is too late to acquire new ones. most children undergo a painstaking and more or less painful course of instruction in good manners and know by the time they are men and women what should be done whether they do it or not. our social code is not a complicated one, and there is no excuse except for the youngsters who have just growed up like topsy or have been brought up by jerks like pip. it is, without doubt, easier to be polite among people who are naturally courteous than among those who snap and snarl at one another, but it is a mistake to place too much emphasis on this part of it. too many men--business men, at that--have come up out of the mire for us to be able to offer elaborate apologies for those who have stayed in it. the background is of minor importance. a cockroach is a cockroach anywhere you put him. it is easy to envy the men who have had superior advantages, and many a man feels that if he had another's chance he, too, might have become a great gentleman. it is an idle speculation. his own opportunities are the only ones any man can attend to, and if he is sensible he will take quick advantage of those that come, not in dreams, but in reality, and will remember what a very sagacious english statesman said about matters of even graver import: "it makes no difference where you are going. you've got to start from where you are." the lack of early training is a handicap but not a formidable one, especially to a business man. as the spaniards say, there is little curiosity about the pedigree of a good man. and no man needs to be ashamed of his origin. the president of a firm would naturally be interested in the ancestry of a young man who came to ask him for the hand of his daughter, but if the man has come to sell a bill of goods he does not care a snap. in discussions of the social evil it is often said that every child has a right to be well born, but robert louis stevenson saw more deeply and spoke more truly when he said, "we are all nobly born; fortunate those who know it; blessed those who remember." the finest gentleman the world has ever seen was born some two thousand years ago to the wife of a carpenter in bethlehem and spent most of his time among fishermen, tax-collectors, cripples, lepers, and outcasts of various sorts; and yet in the entire record of his short and troubled life there is not one mention of an ungraceful or an ungainly action. he was careful to observe even the trivialities of social life. mary and martha were quarreling before dinner. he quieted them with a few gracious words. the people at the marriage feast at cana were worried because they had only water to drink. he touched it and gave them wine. the multitude who came to hear him were tired, footsore, and hungry. he asked them to be seated and gave them food. he dined with the pharisees, he talked with the women of samaria, he comforted mary magdalen, and he washed the feet of his disciples. he was beset and harassed by a thousand rude and unmannerly questions, but not once did he return an impatient answer. surely these things are godlike and divine whatever one may believe about the relation of jesus christ to god, the father. it has been said that every man should choose a gentleman for his father. he should also choose a gentleman for his employer. unfortunately he often has no more option in the one than he has in the other. very few of us get exactly what we want. but however this may be, a gentleman at the head of a concern is a priceless asset. the atmosphere of most business houses is determined by the man at the top. his character filters down through the ranks. if he is a rough-and-tumble sort of person the office is likely to be that kind of place; if he is quiet and mannerly the chances are that the office will be quiet and mannerly. if he is a gentleman everybody in the place will know it and will feel the effects of it. "i am always glad john was with mr. blank his first year in business," said a mother speaking of her son. mr. blank was a man who had a life-long reputation for being as straight as a shingle and as clean as a hound's tooth, every inch a gentleman. "how do you account for the fact that you have come to place so much emphasis on courtesy?" a business man was asked one day as he sat in his upholstered office with great windows opening out on the new york harbor. he thought for a moment, and his mind went back to the little georgia village where he was born and brought up. "my father was a gentleman," he answered. "i remember when i was a boy he used to be careful about such trifles as this. 'now, jim,' he would say, 'when you stop on the sidewalk don't stop in the middle of it. stand aside so you won't be in anybody's way.' and even now," the man smiled, "i never stop on the sidewalk without stepping to one side so as to be out of the way." the life of a young person is plastic, easy to take impressions, strong to retain them. and the "old man" or the "governor," whether he is father, friend, or employer, or all three, has infinitely more influence than either he or the young man realizes. at the same time it is perfectly true that young people do not believe what older ones tell them about life. they have to try it out for themselves. one generation does not begin where the other left off. each one of us begins at the beginning, and the world, with all that it holds, is as wonderful (though slightly different, to be sure) and as new to the child who is born into it to-day as it was to adam on the first morning after it was created. it is almost tragic that so many young men take the tenor of their lives from that of their employers, especially if the latter have been successful. this places a terrific responsibility upon the employer which does not, however, shift it from the employee. his part in business or in life--and this is true of all of us--is what he makes it, great or small. and the most important thing is for him to have a personal ideal of what he thinks best and hold to it. he cannot get it from the outside. "courtesy is not one of the company's rules," wrote the manager of a large organization which has been very successful in handling men and making money. "it is a tradition, an instinct. it is an attribute of the general tone, of the dominating influence of the management in all its relations. it is a part of the general tone, the honor, the integrity of the company. for three generations it has been looked upon as an inheritance to be preserved and kept irreproachable. employees are drawn into this influence by the very simple process of their own development. those who find themselves in harmony with the character of the company or who deliberately put themselves in tune, progress. those who do not, cannot, for long, do congenial or acceptable service." this is the statement from the manager of a firm that is widely known for courteous dealing. their standard is now established. it is a part of the atmosphere, and their chief problem is to get men who will fit into it. an employer does not judge a man on an abstract basis. he takes him because he thinks he will be useful to his business. this is why most places like to get men when they are young. they are easier to train. every one likes good material to work with, and employers are no exception. they take the best they can find, and the higher the standard of the firm the greater the care expended in choosing the employees. "whenever we find a good man," said the manager of a big trust company, "we take him on. we may not have a place for him at the time but we keep him until we find one." except during times of stress such as that brought about by the war when the soldiers were at the front, no business house hires people indiscriminately. they know, as the chinese have it, that rotten wood cannot be carved. "it is our opinion," we quote from another manager, "that courtesy cannot be pounded into a person who lacks proper social basis. in other words, there are some people who would be boorish under any circumstances. our first and chief step toward courtesy is to exercise care in selecting our employees. we weigh carefully each applicant for a sales position and try to visualize his probable deportment as our representative, and unless he gives promise of being a fit representative we do not employ him." but it is not enough to take a man into a business organization. every newcomer must be broken in. sometimes this is done by means of formal training, sometimes it consists merely of giving him an idea of what is expected of him and letting him work out his own salvation. granting that he is already familiar with the work in a general way, and that he is intelligent and resourceful, he ought to be able to adapt himself without a great deal of instruction from above. all of this depends upon the kind of work which is to be done. nearly every employer exercises more caution in selecting the man who is to meet the public than any other. it is through him that the all-important first impression is made, and a man who is rude or discourteous, or who, for any reason, rubs people the wrong way, simply will not do. he may have many virtues but unless they are apparent they are for the time being of little service. most salesmen have to go to school. their work consists largely of the study of one of the most difficult subjects in the catalogue: human psychology. they must know why men do what they do and how to make them do what they, the salesmen, want them to do. they must be able to handle the most delicate situations courteously and without friction. it takes the tact of a diplomat, the nerve of a trapeze performer, the physical strength of a prize fighter, the optimism of william j. bryan or of pollyanna, and the wisdom of solomon. not many men are born with this combination of qualities. the best training schools base their teaching on character and common sense. one very remarkable organization, which has at its head an astonishingly buoyant and optimistic--and, it is hardly necessary to add, successful--man, teaches that character is nine-tenths of success in salesmanship and technique is only one-tenth. they study technique and character along with it, in a scientific way, like the students in a biological laboratory who examine specimens. their prospects are their subjects, and while they do not actually bring them into the consultation room, they hold experience meetings and tell the stories of their successful and unsuccessful contacts. the meetings are held at the end of the day, when the men are all tired and many of them are depressed and discouraged. they are opened with songs, "my old kentucky home," "old black joe," "sweet adeline," and the other good old familiar favorites that make one think of home and mother and school days and happiness. one or two catchy popular songs are introduced, and the men sing or hum or whistle or divide into groups and do all three with all their might. it is irresistible. fifteen or twenty minutes of it can wipe out the sourest memory of the day's business, and trivial irritations sink to their proper place in the scheme of things. the little speeches follow, and the men clap and cheer for the ones who have done good work and try to make an intelligent diagnosis of the cases of the ones who have not. when the leader talks he sometimes recounts his early experiences--he, like most good salesmanagers, was once on the road himself--and if he is in an inspirational mood, gives a sound talk on the principle back of the golden rule. the spirit of coöperation throughout the institution is amazing and the morale is something any group of workers might well envy them. most business houses recognize their responsibilities toward the young people that they hire. well-organized concerns build up from within. the heads of the departments are for the most part men who have received their training in the institution, and they take as much pains in selecting their office boys as they do in selecting any other group, for it is in them that they see the future heads and assistant heads of the departments. in hiring office boys "cleanness, good manners, good physique, mental agility, and good habits are primary requisites," according to mr. j. ogden armour in the _american magazine_. in one of the oldest banks in new york each boy who enters is given a few days' intensive training by a gentleman chosen for the purpose. the instructor stresses the fundamentals of character and, above all things, common sense. courtesy is rarely discussed as a separate quality but simple instructions are given about not going in front of a person when there is room to go around him, not pushing into an elevator ahead of every one else, not speaking to a man at a desk until he has signified that he is ready, and about sustaining quiet and orderly behavior everywhere. the atmosphere in the bank is the kind that encourages gentlemanly conduct and the new boys either fall in with it or else get out and go somewhere else. it takes more patience on the part of the youngsters in the financial district than it does in most other places, for the men there work under high tension and are often cross, worried, nervous, and irritable, and as a result are, many times, without intending it, unjust. the discipline is severe, and the boy would not be human if he did not resent it. but the youngster who is quick to fly off the handle will find himself sadly handicapped, however brilliant he may be, in the race with boys who can keep their tempers in the face of an injury. three boys out of the hundreds who have passed through the training school in the bank of which we were speaking have been discharged for acts of discourtesy. one flipped a rubber clip across a platform and hit one of the officials in the eye, one refused to stay after hours to finish some work he had neglected during the day, and one was impertinent. all three could have stayed if each had used a little common sense, and all three could have stayed if each act had not been a fair indication of his general attitude toward his work. one of the most difficult organizations to manage and one against which the charge of discourtesy is frequently brought is the department store. yet a distinguished englishwoman visiting here--it takes a woman to judge these things--said, "i had always been told that people in new york were in such a hurry that, although well-meaning enough, they were inclined to appear somewhat rude to strangers. i have found it to be just the reverse. during my first strolls in the streets, in the shops, and elsewhere, i have found everybody most courteous. your stores, i may say, are the finest i have ever seen, not excepting those of paris. their displays are remarkable. their spaciousness impressed me greatly. even at a crowded time it was not difficult to move about. in london, where our shops are mostly cramped and old-fashioned, it would be impossible for such large numbers of people to find admittance." the tribute is a very nice one. for a long time the department stores have realized the difficulties under which they labor and have been making efforts to overcome them. they have formed associations by which they study each other's methods, and most of them have very highly organized systems of training and management. one big department store carries on courtesy drives. talks are given, posters are exhibited, and prizes are offered for the most courteous clerks in the store. "we know that it is not fair to give prizes," the personnel manager says, "because it is impossible to tell really which clerks are the most courteous, but it stimulates interest and effort throughout the organization and the effects last after the drive is over." one big department store which is favorably known among a large clientèle for courteous handling of customers depends upon its atmosphere to an enormous extent, but it realizes that atmosphere does not come by chance, that it has to be created. they have arranged it so that each clerk has time to serve each customer who enters without the nervous hurry which is the cause of so much rudeness. the salesclerks who come into the institution are given two weeks' training in the mechanical end of their work, the ways of recording sales, methods of approach, and so on, as well as in the spirit of coöperation and service. by the time the clerk is placed behind the counter he or she can conduct a sale courteously and with despatch, but there is never a time when the head of the department is not ready and willing to be consulted about extraordinary situations which may arise. it is during the rush seasons such as the three or four weeks which precede christmas that courtesy is put to the severest test, and the store described in the paragraph above bears up under it nobly. it did not wait until christmas to begin teaching courtesy. it had tried to make it a habit, but last year several weeks before the holidays it issued a bulletin to its employees to remind them of certain things that would make the christmas shopping less nerve-racking. the first paragraph was headed health. it ran as follows: "if you want to be really merry at christmas time, it will be well to bear in mind during this busy month at least these few 'health savers': "every night try to get eight good hours of sleep. "all day try to keep an even temper and a ready smile. "remember that five minutes lost in the morning means additional pressure all day long. "try to make your extra effort a steady one--not allowing yourself to get excited and rushed so that you make careless mistakes. "try to eat regularly three good nourishing meals, relaxing completely while you are at the table and for a little while afterward. "breathe deeply, and as often as you can, good fresh air--it cures weariness. "and don't forget that a brisk walk, a sensible dinner, an hour's relaxation, and then a hot bath before retiring, make a refreshing end for one business day and a splendid preparation for the next." there were six other paragraphs in the bulletin. one asked the salesclerks to take the greatest care in complying with a customer's request to send gift purchases without the price tags. another asked them to pay strictest attention to getting the right addresses, and most of the others were taken up with suggestions for ways to avoid congestion by using a bank of elevators somewhat less conveniently located than the others, by limiting their personal telephone calls to those which were absolutely necessary, and so on. in both tone and content the bulletin was an excellent one. it first considered the employees and then the customers. there was no condescension in the way it was written and there was no "bunk" about what was in it. but the bulletin was only a small part of an effort that never stops. the purpose of the store is, to quote from its own statement, "to render honest, prompt, courteous and complete service to customers" and the qualities by which they measure their employees are as follows: health loyalty coöperation initiative industry accuracy thoroughness responsibility knowledge courtesy is not included in the list but it is unnecessary. if these qualities are developed courtesy will come of its own accord. it is worth noting that health comes first in the list. to a business man, or indeed to any other, it is one of the most precious possessions in the world, and is the best of backgrounds upon which to embroider the flower of courtesy. every employer who has had any experience knows the value of a contented workman, and does what he can to make and keep him so by paying him adequate wages, and providing comfortable, sanitary, and pleasant working conditions. contentment is, however, more an attitude of mind than a result of external circumstances. happiness is who, not where, you are. we do not mean by this that a workman should be wholly satisfied and without ambition or that he should face the world with a permanent grin, but that he should to the best of his ability follow that wonderful motto of roosevelt's, "do what you can where you are with what you have." no man can control circumstances; not even the braggart napoleon, who declared that he made circumstances, could control them to the end; and no man can shape them to suit exactly his own purposes, but every man can meet them bravely as a gentleman should. most big business concerns supply rest rooms, eating places, recreation camps, and all manner of comforts for their employees, and most of them maintain welfare departments. no business house under heaven could take the place of a home, but where the home influence is bad the best counterfoil is a wholesome atmosphere in which to work. recently an institution advertising for help, instead of asking what the applicant could do for it, pictured and described what it could do for the applicant. the result was that they got a high-class group of people to make their selection from, and their attitude was one which invited the newcomers to do their best. factory owners are paying a good deal of attention to the appearance of their buildings. many of them have moved out into the country so as to provide more healthful surroundings for work. numbers of modern factory buildings are very beautiful to look at, trim white buildings set in close-cut lawns with tennis courts and swimming pools not far away, red brick buildings covered with ivy, sand-colored ones with roses climbing over them, and others like the one famous for its thousand windows, rather more comfortable than lovely. in our big cities there are office buildings that look like cathedrals, railroad stations that look like temples, and traffic bridges that look (from a distance) like fairy arches leading into the land of dreams. they are not all like this. we wish they were. but it is to the credit of the american business man that he has put at least a part of his life and work into the building of beautiful things. the influence which comes from them is, like nearly all potent influences, an unconscious one, but it makes for happiness and contentment. the problem of keeping the employees contented is somewhat different in every place. house organs, picnics, dances, recreation parks, sanitariums in the country and so on can be utilized by "big business," but the spirit which animates them is the same as that which makes the grocery man at hicksville centre give his delivery boy an afternoon off when the baseball team comes to town. the spirit of courtesy is everywhere the same, but it must be kept in mind that the end of business is production, production takes work, and that play is introduced in order that the work may be better. this is true whether we are looking at the matter from the point of view of the employer or of the employee. what is to the interest of one--this is gaining slow but sure recognition--is to the interest of the other. certain kinds of mechanical work are very trying because of their monotony. the work must be done, however, and in well-ordered places it is arranged so that the worker has brief periods of rest at regular intervals or so that he is shifted from one kind of activity to another. it is poor economy to wear out men. in the old days before the power of steam or electricity had been discovered, boats were propelled by slaves who were kept below decks chained to their seats, and watched by an overseer who forced them to continue rowing long after they had reached the point of exhaustion. the galley slave sat always on the same side of the boat and after a few years his body became so twisted and warped that he was no good for anything else, and pretty soon was not even good for that. then he was thrown into the discard--most of them died before they got this far along--and the owner of the boat had to look out for more men. something like this happens to the soul of a man who is bound to dreary, monotonous work without relief or any outlet for growth. it is deadening to him, to his work, and to his employer. the far-sighted employer knows it. the masters of slaves learned it many years ago. the chain which binds the servant to the master binds the master to the servant. and the fastening is as secure at one end as it is at the other. too strict supervision--slave-driving--is fatal to courtesy. the places which have intricate spy systems to watch their employees are the ones where there is most rudeness and trickery. the clerk who is hectored, nagged, spied upon, suspected and scolded by some hireling brought in for that purpose or by the head of the firm himself cannot be expected to give "a smile with every purchase and a thank you for every goodbye." the training of employees never stops, but it is something that should be placed very largely in their own hands. after a certain point supervision should be unnecessary. most places hate to discharge a man. labor turnover is too expensive. most of them try to place their men in the positions for which they are best suited. it is easier to take a round peg out of a square hole and put it into a round one than it is to send out for another assortment of pegs. men are transferred from sales departments to accounting departments, are taken off the road and brought into the home office, and are shifted about in various ways until they fit. if a man shows that "he has it in him" he is given every chance to succeed. "there is only one thing we drop a man for right off," says an employment manager in a place which has in its service several thousand people of both sexes, "and that is for saying something out of the way to one of our girls." this same manager tells the story of a boy he hired and put into a department which had been so badly managed that there were a number of loose ends to be tied up. the boy threw himself into his work, cleared up things, and found himself in a "soft snap" without a great deal to do. he happened not to be the kind of person who can be satisfied with a soft snap, and he became so restive and unhappy that he was recommended for discharge. this brought him back to the head of the employment bureau. he, instead of throwing the young man out, asked that he be given a second trial in a department where the loose ends could not be cleaned up. it was a place where there was always plenty of work to do, and the young man has been happy and has been doing satisfactory work ever since. the house in which this happened is always generous toward the mistakes of its employees if the mistakes do not occur too persistently and too frequently. in one instance a boy made three successive errors in figures in as many days. he was slated for discharge but sent first before the employment manager. as they talked the latter noticed that the boy leaned forward with a strained expression on his face. thinking perhaps he was slightly deaf, he lowered his voice, but the boy understood every word he said. then he noticed that there was a tiny red ridge across his nose as if he were accustomed to wearing glasses, although he did not have them on, and when he asked about it he discovered that the boy had broken his glasses a few days before, and that he had not had them fixed because he did not have money enough. "why didn't you tell us about it?" the employment manager asked. "it was not your fault that i broke them," the boy replied. "it was up to me," an independent answer which in itself indicates how much worth while it was to keep him. the manager gave him money enough to have the glasses mended, the next day the boy was back at work, and there was no more trouble. an employee in the same organization unintentionally did something which hurt the president of the firm a great deal. but when he went to him and apologized (it takes a man to admit that he is wrong and apologize for it) the president sent him back to his desk, "it's all right, boy," he said, "i know you care. that's enough." in a big department store in new england there was a girl a few years back with an alert mind, an assertive personality, and a tremendous fund of energy. she was in the habit of giving constructive suggestions to the heads of the departments in which she worked, and because of her youth and manner, they resented it. "i took her into my office," the manager said. "i'm the only one she can be impertinent to there and i don't mind it. it is a bad manifestation of a good quality, and in time the disagreeable part of it will wear off. she will make an excellent business woman." "if a man finds fault with a boy without explaining the cause to him," we are quoting here from an executive in a highly successful middle western firm, "i won't fire the boy, i fire the man. we have not a square inch of space in this organization for the man who criticizes a subordinate without telling him how to do better." unless the plan of management is big enough to include every one from the oldest saint to the youngest sinner it is no good. business built on oppression and cut-throat competition, whether the competition is between employer and employee or between rival firms, is war, and war, industrial or political, is still what general sherman called it some years ago. we hold no brief for paternalism. we have no patience with it. all that we want is a spirit of fairness and coöperation which will give every man a chance to make good on his own account. this spirit inevitably flowers into courtesy. in every place courtesy should be, of course, so thoroughly a part of the surroundings that it is accepted like air or sunshine without comment. but it is not, and never has been except in old civilizations where manners have ripened and mellowed under the beneficent influence of time. our traditions here--speaking of the country as a whole--are still in the making, but we have at least got far enough along to realize that it is not only worth while to do things that are good, but, as an old author has it, to do them with a good grace. it cannot be accomplished overnight. courtesy is not like a fungous growth springing up in a few hours in the decayed parts of a tree; it is like that within the tree itself which gives lustre to the leaves and a beautiful surface to the whole. it takes time to develop it--time and patience--but it is worth waiting for. iv personality all that makes a man who he is and not someone else is called personality. it is the sum total of his qualities, a thing inborn, but including besides such externals as dress, manner, and appearance. it is either a tremendous asset or a terrific liability, and so important that certain schools which purport to teach success in business declare that it is everything. which is just as foolish as saying that it is nothing. one of these success-before-you-wake-to-morrow-morning schools of business instruction dismisses the fact which has remained true through three thousand years of change, namely, that there is no short cut to success, as a myth, and even goes so far as to say that it is almost impossible to achieve success to-day by working for it. e. h. harriman they give as an example of a man who did no work but won success by smoking cigars while other men built railroads for him, quoting a joking remark of his to prove a serious point, when, as a matter of fact, mr. harriman was one of the large number of american business men who have literally worked themselves to death. foch said that he won the war by smoking his pipe, but does any one believe that the great commander won the war by not working? what he meant was that he won the war by thinking, and the worn face, which seemed almost twice as old when the conflict was over, showed how hard that work was. it is so impossible for a false doctrine to stand on its own feet that the spread-eagle advertisement of this school contradicts itself long before it gets to the "sign here and mail to-day" coupon. "the first time you try to swim," shouts the advertisement, "for instance, you sink; and the first time you try to ride a bicycle you fall off. but the ability to do these things was born in you. and shortly you can both swim and ride. then you wonder why you could not always do these things. they seem so absurdly simple." it may be that there are people who have learned to swim and to ride a bicycle by sitting in a chair and cultivating certain inherent qualities but we have never heard of them. everybody that we ever knew worked and worked hard swimming and riding before they learned. the only way to learn to do a job is to do it, and the only way to succeed is to work. any school or any person who says that "the most important thing for you to do is not to work, but first to find the short road to success. after that you may safely work all you like--but as a matter of fact, you won't have to work very hard," is a liar and a menace to the country and to business. but the value of personality is not to be under-estimated. "nature," says thackeray somewhere in "the virginians," "has written a letter of credit upon some men's faces, which is honored almost wherever presented. harry warrington's [harry warrington was the hero who brought about this observation] countenance was so stamped in his youth. his eyes were so bright, his cheeks so red and healthy, his look so frank and open, that almost all who beheld him, nay, even those who cheated him, trusted him." it was the "letter of credit" stamped upon the face of roosevelt, pledge of the character which lay behind it, which made him the idol of the american people. personality is hard to analyze and harder still to acquire. the usual advice given to one who is trying to cultivate a pleasing manner and address is "be natural," but this cannot be taken too literally. most of us find it perfectly natural to be cross and disagreeable under trying circumstances. it would be natural for a man to cry out profane words when a woman grinds down on his corn but it would not be polite. it was natural for uriah heep to wriggle like an eel, but that did not make it any the less detestable. it was natural, considering the past history of germany and the system under which he was educated, for the kaiser to want to be lord of the world, but that did not make it any the less horrible. another bromidic piece of advice is "be perfectly frank and sincere." but this, too, has its limits. some people pride themselves on saying exactly what they think. usually they are brutal, insensitive, wholly incapable of sympathetic understanding of any one else, and cursed, besides, with a colossal vanity. a man may determine to tell nothing but the truth, but this does not make it necessary for him to tell the whole truth, especially when it will hurt the feelings or the reputation of some one else. no man has a right to impose his opinions and prejudices, his sufferings and agonies, on other people. it is the part of a coward to whine. and yet a man must be himself, must be natural and sincere. roosevelt could no more have adopted the academic manner of wilson than wilson could have adopted the boyish manner of roosevelt. lincoln could no more have adopted the courtly grace of washington than washington could have adopted the rugged simplicity of lincoln. nor would such transformations be desirable even if they were possible. the world would be a very dreary place if we were all cut by the same pattern. a number of years ago in an upstate town in new york there was a shoe store which had been built up by the engaging personality of the man who owned it. he had worked his way up from a tiny shoe shop in new jersey where, as a boy, he made shoes by hand before there were factories for the purpose, and he had always kept in close touch with the business even after he owned a large establishment and had a number of men working under him. he stayed in the shop, greeted his customers as they came in, and many times waited on them himself. when he retired from active business he sold out to a man exactly his opposite in temperament, as good a man, so far as character went, as himself, but very quiet and taciturn. a woman who had always patronized the shop and was a friend of them both came to him soon after the transfer was made and said, "now, mr. tillis, the reason this place has prospered so is on account of the personality of mr. kilbourne. his shoes are good but people can get good shoes at other places. they come here because of mr. kilbourne. they like him, and if you are not careful they will stop coming now that he is gone. you've got to smile and show them you are glad to see them." mr. tillis felt that the woman was telling the truth. he decided that he would stay in the shop and greet each customer with a gladsome smile and make himself generally pleasant and agreeable. the next day he was fitting a shoe on a woman who was also an old customer and a friend of both men. he was smiling in his best manner and congratulating himself that he was doing very well when the woman abruptly took her foot off the stand. "what are you laughing at?" she demanded. some years later he told mr. kilbourne about it. "i decided then that there was no use in me trying to be you. you had been yourself, and i made up my mind that i'd be myself." and that is, after all, the only rule that can be given. be yourself, but be very sure that it is your best self. it is personality which permits one man to do a thing that another would be shot for. what is charming in this man is disgusting in that. what is a smile with one becomes a smirk with another. what makes one succeed will cause another to fail. it is personality that opens the doors of opportunity. it cannot, alone, keep them open, but it is worth a good deal to get inside. we were interested to observe the methods used by three young men who were looking for jobs, not one of whom would probably have succeeded if he had used the tactics of either of the others. the first wanted to talk with the biggest executive in a large organization. he had fought his way through the ranks until he had got as far as the man's secretary. "mr. so-and-so does not see people who want jobs," said that young lady. "i don't want a job," he prevaricated mildly, "i want to talk to him." the girl let him in. "mr. so-and-so," he said, "i don't want a job. i want advice." his manner was so ingenuous and charming, his earnestness so glowing, that the man at the desk listened while he talked, and then talked a while himself, and ended by giving the young man the position (as well as the advice) that he wanted. but if he had been less attractive personally and the older man had been shrewd enough to see through the ruse (or perhaps he did see through it but made the proper discount for it) or had been opposed to trick methods, the scheme might not have worked so well. the most universal weakness of intellect lies in the part of the brain which listens to flattery. very few people like compliments laid on with a trowel, but no man can resist the honest admiration of another if it seems sincere. and since it is the sort of thing that one likes almost above all else he often takes the false coin for the true. the second young man met the rebuff so familiar to young men looking for their first job, "we want men with experience." "that's what everybody says," the boy answered, "but what i want to know is how we are going to get that experience if you don't give us a chance." the older man sympathized, but had no place for the other and told him so. "what would you do if you were i?" the young man asked as he turned to leave. the other grinned. "why, i'd work for a firm for a week for nothing," he said, "and show them that they could not get along without me." the boy stopped. "all right," he said, "let me work for you a week." the older man had not expected this but he gave the youngster a chance and he made good. the third young man had reached the point of desperation. he had been out of a job several weeks. he had been trying to get one all that time and had not succeeded. he walked into the employment bureau of a certain concern and said, "i want a job. i want a good job. not some dinky little place filing letters or picking up chips. if you've got an executive position where there is plenty of work and plenty of responsibility, i want it." they asked him a few questions about what he had been doing and a few more about what he thought he could do, and ended by giving him a desk and an office. it would be foolish to advise any one to follow any of these plans. each man must work out his own method, all the better if it is an original one. most business men like a simple approach without any flourishes. "it is astonishing," says one man whose income runs to six figures, "how many things one can get just by asking for them." the best reporter in america says that he has always found the direct method of approach better than any other. none is infallible but this has the highest percentage of success. so far as personal appearance is concerned--and this is one of the most important elements in the fashioning of personality--the greatest variations are not due to intrinsic differences in character, nor to differences of feature or form, but to the use and disuse of the bathtub. more sharp than the distinction between labor and capital or between socialism and despotism is that between the people who bathe daily and those who go to the tub only on saturday night or less often. the people with whom personal cleanliness is a habit find dirt, grime, and sweat revolting. to them "the great unwashed" are repulsive. "when you teach a man to bathe," says john leitch in his book on "industrial democracy," "you do more than merely teach him to cleanse his body. you introduce him to a new kind of life and create in him a desire for better living." the month before he began his wonderful work at tuskegee, booker washington spent visiting the negro families in the part of alabama where he was to teach. "one of the saddest things i saw during the month of travel which i have described," he writes in his autobiography, "was a young man, who had attended some high school, sitting down in a one-room cabin, with grease on his clothing, filth all around him, and weeds in the yard and garden, engaged in studying a french grammar." farther on he writes, "it has been interesting to note the effect that the use of the tooth-brush has had in bringing about a higher degree of civilization among the students. with few exceptions, i have noticed that, if we can get a student to the point where, when the first or second tooth-brush disappears, he of his own motion buys another, i have not been disappointed in the future of that individual. absolute cleanliness of the body has been insisted upon from the first." cleanliness is an attribute of civilization. we find it amusing to read that three or four hundred years ago bathing for pleasure was unknown, that when soap was first invented it was used only for washing clothes, and that even so late as the seventeenth century an author compiling a book of rules for the gentleman of that day advises him to wash his hands every day and his face almost as often! in the monasteries bathing was permitted only to invalids and the very old. perfume was used copiously, and filth and squalor abounded. this even in royal circles. among the common people conditions were unspeakable. to-day a gentleman bathes and shaves every day. he keeps his hair brushed, his finger nails immaculate (or as clean as the kind of work which he does permits), his linen is always clean and his shoes are polished. he is not over-fastidious about his clothes, but he has respect enough for himself as well as for the people among whom he lives to want to present as agreeable an appearance as possible. "dress," wrote lord chesterfield to his son, "is a very foolish thing, and yet it is a very foolish thing for a man not to be well-dressed, according to his rank and way of life.... the difference in this case between a man of sense and a fop is that the fop values himself upon his dress; and the man of sense laughs at it, and at the same time knows he must not neglect it." it is a cheap device for a man to trick himself out with lodge pins and fraternity symbols, rings, and badges in the hope that they will open doors for him. highly ornamental jewelry of any kind is inappropriate. not many men can offset a heavy gold watch chain stretched full length across their bosoms, not many can live down a turquoise ring set with pearls, and very few can bear the handicap of a bright gold front tooth. artists, alone, may gratify their taste for velvet jackets, tam-o'-shanters, and windsor ties, but the privilege is denied business men. eccentricity of dress usually indicates eccentricity of temper, and we do not want temperamental business men. it is hard enough to get along with authors and artists and musicians. the business man who is wise wears conventional clothes of substantial material in conservative colors. good sense and good taste demand it. the time has passed when uncouthness of dress and manner can be taken as a pledge of honesty and good faith. the president of the united states to-day is a well-dressed, well-groomed man, and no one thinks any the less of him for it. men no longer regard creased trousers, nicely tied cravats, well-chosen collars, and harmonious color combinations as signs of sissiness, snobbishness, or weak-mindedness. formal dinners and other ceremonious functions require evening dress. it is the custom, as the orientals say; and for the sake of other people present if not for his own, a man should undergo the discomfort, if he finds it a discomfort, and many men do, of conforming to it. holiday attire gives a happy note of festivity which might otherwise be lacking. it is quite possible to point to a number of men who have succeeded in business who were wholly indifferent to matters of dress. but it does not prove anything. men rise by their strength, not by their weakness. some men wait until after they have become rich or famous to become negligent of their personal appearance. but it is well to remember that "if socrates and aristippus have done aught against custom or good manner, let not a man think he can do the same: for they obtained this license by their great and excellent good parts." a well-dressed man is so comfortably dressed that he is not conscious of his clothes and so inconspicuously dressed that no one else is conscious of them. in a good many instances it is not his own dress which bothers a business man so much as it is that of some one else--his stenographer, for instance. men do not have quite so much opportunity to make themselves ridiculous as women. their conventions of dress are stricter, and, as a rule, they can express their love of color and ornamentation only in their choice of ties and socks. girls have practically no restrictions except what happens to be the style at the moment, and a young girl untrained in selecting and combining colors and lines, and making money for the first time in her life, is more likely than not to make herself look more like a christmas tree than a lily of the field. the big department stores which employ hundreds of girls to meet and serve their customers have settled the problem for themselves by requiring the girls to wear uniforms. the uniform is very simple; often a certain color during working hours is prescribed, but the girls are permitted to choose their own styles. other places have women who look after the welfare of the girls and prevent them from laying themselves open to misunderstanding by the way they dress. large organizations can afford to have a special person to take care of such matters, but in a small office the problem is different. of course, a man can always dismiss a girl who dresses foolishly or carelessly, but this is sneaking away from a problem instead of facing it. high-class offices have comparatively little trouble this way. in the first place, they do not attract the frivolous, light-headed, or "tough" girls; in the second place, if such girls come, the atmosphere in which they work either makes them conform to the standards of the office or leave and go somewhere else. if a girl in his office dresses in a way that he considers inappropriate, a man may tactfully suggest that something simpler would be more dignified and more in keeping with business ideals and traditions. but, oh, he must be careful! on no subject is one so sensitive as on his personal appearance, and women, perhaps, more so than men. there is a limit to how far an employer should go in dictating the manner of his employees' dress. when the head of a big western department store declared that he would discharge all the girls who bobbed their hair, most of us felt that he had gone a bit too far, even while we saw the logic of his position. while it is the only sensible way in the world for a woman to wear her hair the majority of people have not yet come to think so. to the average person, especially to mrs. grundy, who is really the most valuable customer a department store has, the impression given by bobbed hair is one of frivolity or eccentricity. the impression given the customer as she enters a store is a most important item; the head of the store knew it, and therefore he placed the ban on bobbed hair. whichever side we take in this particular case this is true: the business woman should give, like the business man, an impression of dependability, and she cannot do it if her appearance is abnormal, or if her mind is divided between how she is looking and what she is doing. it is almost funny that we let the faults and mannerisms of other people affect us to such an extent. they are nothing to us, and yet a man can work himself into a perfect frenzy of temper merely by looking at or talking to another who has a fidgety way of moving about, a dainty manner of using his hands, or a general demean--or that is delicate and ladylike. men like what the magazines call "a red-blooded, two-fisted, he-man." but the world is big enough to accommodate us all whether the blood in our veins is red or blue, and it is perfectly silly for a man to throw himself into a rage over some harmless creature who happens to exasperate him simply because he is alive. it is an altogether different matter when it is a question of one man taking liberties with another. most people object to the physical nearness of others. it is the thing that makes the new york subways during the rush hours such a horror. it is not pleasant to have a person so near that his breath is against your face, and there are not many men who enjoy being slapped on the back, punched in the ribs, or held fast by a buttonhole or a coat lapel. a safe rule is never to touch another person. he may resent it. the garrulous or impertinent talker is almost as objectionable as the hail-fellow-well-met, slap-on-the-back fellow. charles dickens has a record of this kind of american in the book which he wrote after his visit in this country: "every button in his clothes said, 'eh, what's that? did you speak? say that again, will you?' he was always wide awake, always restless; always thirsting for answers; perpetually seeking and never finding.... "i wore a fur great-coat at that time, and before we were well clear of the wharf, he questioned me concerning it, and its price, and where i bought it, and when, and what fur it was, and what it weighed, and what it cost. then he took notice of my watch, and asked me what _that_ cost, and whether it was a french watch, and where i got it, and how i got it, and whether i bought it or had it given me, and how it went and where the keyhole was, and when i wound it, every night or every morning, and whether i ever forgot to wind it at all, and if i did, what then? where i had been to last, and where i was going next, and where i was going after that, and had i seen the president, and what did he say, and what did i say, and what did he say when i had said that? eh? lor' now! do tell!" this sort of curiosity is harmless enough, but exasperating, and so childish that one hates to rebuke the person who is asking the foolish questions. there is another kind which is perhaps worse--the man who asks intrusive questions about how much salary another is getting, how old he is (men are as sensitive on this subject as women) and so on and on. it is perfectly legitimate to refuse to answer any question to which one does not wish to reply. every man has a right to mental privacy even when he is denied, as he is in so many modern offices, any other kind of privacy. a loud or boisterous person is objectionable. many times this is through carelessness, but sometimes, as when a man recounts the story of his dinner with mr. brown, who is a national figure, in a voice so loud that all the people in the car or room or whatever place he happens to be in, can hear him, it is deliberate. the careless person is the one who discusses personalities aloud in elevators, on the train, and in all manner of public places. exchanging gossip is a pretty low form of indoor sport and exchanging it aloud so that everybody can hear makes it worse than ever. names should never be mentioned in a conversation in a place where strangers can overhear, especially if the connection is an unpleasant one. private opinions should never be aired in public places (except from a platform). the highly argumentative or aggressive person is another common type of nuisance. he usually raises his voice, thus drowning out the possibility of interruption, and talks with so much noise and so many vigorous gestures that he seems to try to make up for his lack of intellect by an excess of tumult. arguments have never yet convinced anybody of the truth, and it is a very unpleasant method to try. most arguments are about religion or politics and even if they were settled nothing would be accomplished. in the middle ages men used to debate about the number of angels that could stand on the point of a pin. hours and hours were wasted and learned scholars were brought into the discussion, which was carried forward as seriously as if it were a debate between the merits of the republican and democratic parties. suppose they had settled it. would it have mattered? one of the most offensive public plagues is the man who leaves a trail of untidiness behind him. no book of etiquette, not even a book of business etiquette, could counsel eating on the streets in spite of the historic and inspiring example of mr. benjamin franklin walking down the streets of philadelphia with a loaf of bread under each arm while he munched from a third which he held in his hand. one can forgive a man, however, if he, feeling the need of nourishment, eats a bar of chocolate if he takes great care to put the wrappings somewhere out of the way. no man with any civic pride will scatter peanut hulls, cigarette boxes, chocolate wrappings, raisin boxes, and other debris along the streets, in the cars, on the stairs, and even on the floors of office buildings. garbage cans and waste-baskets were made to take care of these things. tidiness is worth more to a business man than most of them realize. in the first place it gives a favorable impression to a person coming in from the outside, and, in the second place, it helps those on the inside to keep things straight. folders for correspondence, card indexes, memorandum files and other similar devices are essential to the orderly transaction of business. keeping ashes and scraps of paper off the floor may seem trifles, but such trifles go far toward making the atmosphere, which is another word for personality, of an office. some men have secretaries who take care of their desks and papers and supervise the janitor who cleans the floors and windows, but those who do not, find that they can manage better when they have a place to put things and put them there. nothing has more to do with making a gentleman than a courteous and considerate attitude toward women. in business a man should show practically the same deference toward a woman that he does in society. any man can be polite to a woman he is anxious to please, the girl he loves, for instance, but it takes a gentleman to be polite to every woman, especially to those who work for him, those over whom he exercises authority. it is unnecessary for a man to rise every time one of the girls in his office enters his private audience room, but he should always rise to receive a visitor, whether it is a man or woman, and should ask the visitor to be seated before he sits down himself. in witheringly hot weather a man may go without his coat even if his entire office force consists of girls, but he should never receive a guest in his shirt sleeves. he should listen deferentially to what the visitor has to say, but if she becomes too voluble or threatens to stay too long or if there is other business waiting for him, he may (if he can) cut short her conversation. when she is ready to go he should rise and conduct her to the door or to the elevator, as the case may be, and ring the bell for her. he cannot, of course, do this if his visitors are frequent, if their calls are about matters of trifling importance, or if he is working under high pressure. we once had an english visitor here in america who thought our manners were outrageously bad, but there was one point on which we won a perfect score. "any lady," he said, "may travel alone, from one end of the united states to the other, and be certain of the most courteous and considerate treatment everywhere. nor did i ever once, on any occasion, anywhere, during my rambles in america, see a woman exposed to the slightest act of rudeness, incivility, or even inattention." conditions have changed since then. women had not left their homes to go into offices and factories, but unless we can hold to the standard described by the englishman, the change has not been for the better, for any of the people concerned. since the victorian era our ideas of what constitutes an act of rudeness have been modified. then it would have been unthinkable that a woman should remain standing in a coach while men were seated. now it is possible for a man to keep his place while a woman swings from a strap and defend himself on the grounds that he has worked harder during the day than she (how he knows is more than we can say), and that he has just as much right (which is certainly true) as any one else. yet it is a gracious and a chivalrous act for a man to offer a woman his place on a car, and it is very gratifying to see that hundreds of them, even in the cities, where life goes at its swiftest pace and people live always in a hurry, surrender their seats in favor of the women who, like themselves, are going to work. old people, afflicted people, men and women who are carrying children in their arms, and other people who obviously need to sit down are nearly always given precedence over the rest of us. this is, of course, as it should be. but the heart of what constitutes courtesy has not changed and never will. it is exactly what it was on that day nearly four hundred years ago when sir philip sidney, mortally wounded on the field of zutphen, gave his last drop of water to the dying soldier who lay near him and said, "thy need is greater than mine." v table manners in the old books of etiquette in the chapter on table manners the authors used to state that it was not polite to butter your bread with your thumb, to rub your greasy fingers on the bread you were about to eat, or to rise from the table with a toothpick in your mouth like a bird that is about to build her nest. we have never seen any one butter his bread with his thumb, but---- there are in the united states nearly five million people who can neither read nor write. we have no statistics but we venture to say there are as many who eat with their knives. there are people among us--and they are not all immigrants in the slum districts or negroes in the poorer sections of the south--who do not know what a napkin is, who think the proper way to eat an egg is to hold it in the hand like a piece of candy, and bite it, the egg having previously been fried on both sides until it is as stiff and as hard as a piece of bristol board, who would not recognize a salad if they saw one, and who have never heard of after-dinner coffee. very few of them are people of wealth, but an astonishing number of successful business men were born into such conditions. they had no training in how to handle a knife and fork and they probably never read a book of etiquette, but they had one faculty, which is highly developed in nearly every person who lifts himself above the crowd, and that is observation. in addition to this a young man is very fortunate, especially if his way of life is cast among people whose manners are different from those to which he has been accustomed, if he has a friend whom he can consult, not only about table manners but about matters of graver import as well. and he should not be embarrassed to ask questions. the disgrace, if disgrace it could be called, lies only in ignorance. a number of years ago a young man who was the prospective heir to a fortune--this charming story is in charles dickens's wonderful novel, "great expectations"--went up to london for the express purpose of learning to be a gentleman. it fell about that almost as soon as he arrived he was thrown into the company of a delightful youth who had already attained the minor graces of polite society. very much in earnest about what he had set out to do, and blessed besides with a goodish bit of common sense, he explained his situation to herbert, for that was the other boy's name, mentioned the fact that he had been brought up by a blacksmith in a country place, that he knew practically nothing of the ways of politeness, and that he would take it as a great kindness if herbert would give him a hint whenever he saw him at a loss or going wrong. "'with pleasure,' said he, 'though i venture to prophesy that you'll want very few hints.'" they went in to dinner together, a regular feast of a dinner it seemed to the ex-blacksmith's apprentice, and after a while began to talk about the benefactress who, they believed, had made it possible. "'let me introduce the topic,' began herbert, who had been watching pip's table manners for some little time, 'by mentioning that in london it is not the custom to put the knife in the mouth--for fear of accidents--and that while the fork is reserved for that use it is not put further in than necessary. it is scarcely worth mentioning, only it's as well to do as other people do. also, the spoon is not generally used over-hand but under. this has two advantages. you get at your mouth better (which after all is the object), and you save a good deal of the attitude of opening oysters on the part of the right elbow.' "he offered these suggestions (said pip) in such a lively way, that we both laughed and i scarcely blushed." the conversation and the dinner continued and the friendship grew apace. presently herbert broke off to observe that "society as a body does not expect one to be so strictly conscientious in emptying one's glass, as to turn it bottom upwards with the rim on one's nose." "i had been doing this," pip confessed, "in an excess of attention to his recital. i thanked him, and apologized. he said, 'not at all,' and resumed." this was written many years ago but neither in life nor in literature is there a more beautiful example of perfect courtesy than that given by herbert pocket when he took the blacksmith's boy in hand and began his education in the art of being a gentleman. not only was he at perfect ease himself but--and this is the important point--he put the blacksmith's boy at ease. it is worth remarking, by way of parenthesis, that herbert's father was a gentleman. "it is a principle of his," declared the boy, "that no man who was not a true gentleman at heart, ever was, since the world began, a true gentleman in manner. he says, no varnish can hide the grain of the wood; and that the more varnish you put on, the more the grain will express itself." the american table service is not complicated. any intelligent person who knows the points covered by herbert pocket, who knows that one should not cut up all of his meat at the same time but mouthful by mouthful as he needs it, that it is not customary to butter a whole slice of bread at once nor to plaster cheese over the entire upper surface of a cracker, can by a dint of watching how other people do it find his way without embarrassment through even the most elaborate array of table implements. the easiest way to acquire good table manners (or good manners of any other kind, as far as that goes) is to form the habit of observing how the people who manage these things most gracefully go about it. it is best to begin early. to use one of david harum's expressive maxims, "ev'ry hoss c'n do a thing better 'n' spryer if he's ben broke to it as a colt." eating should be, and, as a matter of fact, is, when one follows his usual custom, an unconscious process like the mechanical part of reading or writing. it is only when he is trying to be a bit more formal or fastidious than is habitual with him that a man gets tangled, so to speak, in the tines of his fork. cooking is one of the fine arts. poets, painters, sculptors, musicians, and millionaires have always paid tribute to it as such--and so is dining. like a great many other arts it was first developed among royal circles, and there was a time when the king resented the idea of a commoner being able to dine with grace and elegance. since then it has become democratized, and now there are no restrictions except those which a man places about himself. and there is no earthly (or heavenly) reason why a man should not eat in the way which society has established as correct, and a good many reasons why he should. physicians--and this is the strongest argument we know--might advance their plea on the grounds of good health. in this case we find, as we do in a number of others, that what good manners declares should be done is heartily endorsed at the same time by good sense. it is only among people of blunted sensibilities that nice table manners count for nothing; for there's no reproach among swine, d'you see, for being a bit of a swine. among business men it is often perplexing to know whom and when to invite. generally speaking, the older man or the man with the superior position takes the initiative, but there are an infinite number of exceptions. generally speaking, also, the man who is resident in a place entertains the one who is visiting, but there are infinite exceptions to this as well, especially in the case of traveling salesman. all courtesy is mutual, and it is almost obligatory upon the salesman who has been entertained to return the courtesy in kind. such invitations should be tendered after a transaction is completed rather than before. the burden of table courtesy falls upon the man who is selling rather than the one who is buying, probably because he is the one to whom the obvious profit accrues. social affairs among the wives of business men which grow out of the business relations of their husbands follow the same rules as almost any other social affairs. nearly always it is the wife of the man with the higher position who issues the first invitation, and it is permissible for her to invite a woman whom she does not know personally if she is the wife of a business friend of her husband. the biggest hindrance to the establishment of good manners among business men is the everlasting hurry in which they (and all the rest of us) live. there must first of all be leisure, not perhaps to the extent advocated by a delightful literary gentleman of having three hours for lunch every day, but time enough to sit down and relax. thousands of business men dash out to lunch--bad manners are at their worst in the middle of the day--as if they were stopping off at a railroad junction with twenty minutes to catch a train and had used ten of them checking baggage. and they do not always do it because they are in a hurry. they have so thoroughly developed the habit of living in a frenzied rush that even when they have time to spare they cannot slow down. pleasant surroundings are desirable. it is much easier to dine in a quiet spacious room where the linen is white and the china is thin, the silver is genuine silver, and the service is irreproachable, than in a crowded restaurant where thick dishes rattle down on white-tiled tables from the steaming arms of the flurried waitress, where there is no linen, but only flimsy paper napkins (which either go fluttering to the floor or else form themselves into damp wads on the table), where the patrons eat ravenously and untidily, and where the atmosphere is dense with the fumes of soup and cigarettes. but luxury in eating is expensive and most of us must, perforce, go to the white-tiled places. and the art of dining is not a question of what one has to eat--it may be beans or truffles--or where one eats it--from a tin bucket or a mahogany table--it all depends upon _how_; and the man who can eat in a "hash-house," an "arm-chair joint," a "beanerie," a cafeteria, a three-minute doughnut stand or any of the other quick-lunch places in as mannerly a way as if he were dining in a hotel _de luxe_ has, we think, a pretty fair claim to the title of gentleman. the responsibility for a dinner lies with the host. if his guest has had the same social training that he has or is accustomed to better things he will have comparatively little trouble. all he can do is to give him the best within his means _without apology_. we like to present ourselves in the best possible light (it is only human) and for this reason often carry our friends to places we cannot afford. this imposes upon them the necessity of returning the dinner in kind, and the vicious circle swings around, each person in it grinding his teeth with rage but not able to find his way out. entertaining is all right so long as it is a useful adjunct to business, but when it becomes a burden in itself it is time to call a halt. smoking during and immediately after a meal is very pleasing to the man who likes tobacco, but if he has a guest (man or woman) who objects to the smell of it he must wait until later. on the other hand if his guest likes to smoke and he does not he should insist upon his doing so. it is a trifling thing but politeness consists largely of yielding gracefully in trifles. old-fashioned gentlemen held it discourteous to mention money at table, but in this degenerate age no subject is taboo except those that would be taboo in any decent society. obviously when men meet to talk over business they cannot leave money out of the discussion. in a number of firms the executives have lunch together, meeting in a group for perhaps the only time during the day. it helps immeasurably to coördinate effort, but it sometimes fails to make the lunch hour the restful break in the middle of the day which it should be. it is generally much more fun and of much more benefit to swap fish stories and hunting yarns than to go over the details of the work in the publicity department or to formulate the plans for handling the smith and smith proposition. momentous questions should be thrust aside until later, and the talk should be--well, _talk_, not arguing, quarreling, or scandal-mongering. the subject does not greatly matter except that it should be something in which all of the people at the table are interested. whistler was once asked what he would do if he were out at dinner and the conversation turned to the mexican war, and some one asked him the date of a certain battle. "do?" he replied. "why, i would refuse to associate with people who could talk of such things at dinner!" polite society has always placed a high value on table manners, but it is only recently that they have come to play so large a part in business. some one has said that you cannot mix business and friendship. it would be nearer the truth to say that you cannot separate them. more and more it is becoming the habit to transact affairs over the table, and a very pleasant thing it is, too. aside from the coziness and warmth which comes from breaking bread together one is free from the interruptions and noise of the office, and many a commercial acquaintance has ripened into a friend and many a business connection has been cemented into something stronger through the genial influence of something good to eat and drink. it is, of course, a mistake to depend too much upon one's social gifts. they are very pleasant and helpful but the work of the world is done in offices, not on golf links or in dining rooms. we have little patience with the man who sets his nose to the grindstone and does not take it away until death comes in between, but we have just as little with the man who has never touched the grindstone. stories go the rounds of executives who choose their subordinates by asking them out to lunch and watching the way they eat. one man always calls for celery and judges his applicant by what he does with it. if he eats only the tender parts the executive decides that he is extravagant, at least with other people's money, but if he eats the whole stalk, green leaves and all, he feels sure that he has before him a man of economy, common sense, and good judgment! the story does not say what happens when the young man refuses celery altogether. another uses cherry pie as his standard and judges the young man by what he does with the pits. there are three ways to dispose of them. they may be lowered from the mouth with the spoon, they may be allowed to drop unaided, or they may be swallowed. the last course is not recommended. the first is the only one that will land a job. but tests like this work both ways and one is rather inclined to congratulate the young men who were turned down than those who were accepted. all this aside, an employer does want to know something about the table manners of an employee who is to meet and dine with his customers. an excellent salesman may be able to convince a man of good breeding and wide social training if he tucks his napkin into his bosom, drinks his soup with a noise, and eats his meat with his knife, but the chances are against it. a man who is interested heart and soul in one thing will think in terms of it, will have it constantly in his mind and on the tip of his tongue. but the man of one subject, whatever that subject may be, is a bore. it is right that a man should live in his work, but he must also live outside of it. one of the most tragic chapters in the history of american life is the one which tells of the millions and millions of men who became so immersed in business affairs that they lost sight of everything else. the four walls of the narrow house which in the end closes around us all could not more completely have cut them off from the light of day. it is a long procession and it has not ended--that line of men passing single file like convicts down the long gray vaults of business, business, business, with never a thought for the stars or the moon or books or trees or flowers or music or life or love--nothing but what casts a shadow over that dismal corridor. these are dead men with no thought of things that are not sold or bought. * * * * * in their bodies there is breath, but their souls are steeped in death. it is not a cheerful picture to contemplate (and it seems a good long way away from table manners), but the men who form it are more to be pitied than blamed. they are blind. vi telephones and front doors "if the outside of a place is not all right," says a man who spends the greater part of his time visiting business houses and talking with business men, "the chances are that it is not worth while to go inside." there are three ways of getting inside: by letter (which has a chapter to itself), by the front door, and by telephone. and there are more complaints against the telephone way than either or both the others, which is perfectly natural, since it is the most difficult to manage. in the first place, it requires good behavior from three people at the same time, and that is a good deal to expect. secondly, they cannot see one another--they are like blind people talking together--and no one of them can do his part unless the other two do theirs. in the third place, the instrument is a lifeless thing, and when something goes wrong with it it rouses the helpless fury inspired by all inanimate objects which interfere with our comfort--like intermittent alarm clocks, collar buttons that roll under the furniture, and flivvers that go dead without reason in the middle of country roads. in each case whatever one does has no effect. the alarm clock continues to ring (unless one gets out of bed to shut it off, which is worse than letting it ring), the collar button remains hid in the darkest part of the room, the flivver remains stuck in the muddiest part of the road, and the telephone is worst of all, for the source of the trouble is usually several miles away and there is no means of getting at it. the telephone is a nuisance--no one denies it--but it is a necessity also--no one denies that, either--and one of the greatest conveniences in an age of great conveniences. some of the disagreeable features connected with it cannot be done away with but must be accepted with as much tranquility as we can master, like the terrific noise which an aëroplane makes or the trail of smoke and cinders which a railway train leaves behind. the one who is calling, for instance, cannot know that he is the tenth or eleventh person who has called the man at the other end of the wire in rapid succession, that his desk is piled high with correspondence which must be looked over, signed, and sent out before noon, that the advertising department is waiting for him to o. k. their plans for a campaign which should have been launched the week before, that an important visitor is sitting in the library growing more impatient every minute, and that his temper has been filed down to the quick by an assortment of petty worries. (of course, no office should be run like this, but it sometimes happens in the best of them.) some one has said that we are all like islands shouting at each other across a sea of misunderstanding, and this was long before telephones were thought of. it is hard enough to make other people understand what we mean, even with the help of facial expression and gestures, and over the wire the difficulty is increased a hundred fold. for telephoning rests upon a delicate adjustment between human beings by means of a mechanical apparatus, and it takes clear thinking, patience, and courtesy to bring it about. the telephone company began its career some few years ago unhampered by the traditions to which the earlier corporations were slave, the old "public be damned" idea. their arbitrary methods had brought them to grief, and the new concern, with a commendable regard for the lessons taught by the experience of others, inaugurated a policy of usefulness, service, and courtesy. the inside history of the telephone is one of constant watchfulness, careful management, and continuous improvement; and every improvement has meant better service to the public. (we are not trying to advertise the telephone company. we realize that it has been guilty, like every other business, of manifold sins.) even the fact that there is a telephone girl instead of a telephone boy is due to the alertness and good business sense of the company. to put a boy before a switchboard and expect him not to pull it apart to see how it was made; or to place him in a position to entertain himself by connecting the wrong parties and listening to the impolite names they called each other and expect him not to do it, would be expecting the laws of nature to reverse themselves. the telephone company tried it--for a while. they discovered, besides, that a boy will not "take" what a girl will. it makes no difference what goes wrong with a connection, the subscriber blames the operator when many times the operator, especially the one he is talking to, has had nothing to do with it. the girls have learned to hold their tempers (not always, but most of the time), but when boys had charge of the switchboards and the man at the end of the wire yelled, "you cut me off!" and the youngster had not, he denied it hotly: "you're a liar! i didn't!" the subscriber would not stand for this, angry words flew back and forth, and more than once the indignant young operator located the subscriber (not a very difficult thing for him to do) and went around to settle things in person. words were not always the only weapons used. if this had continued the telephone would never have become a public utility. people would have looked upon it as an ingenious device but not of universal practical value. as it is, good salesmanship and efficient service first elevated a plaything to a luxury and then reduced the luxury to a necessity. and it was possible not only because the mechanism itself is a miraculous thing but because it has had back of it an intelligent human organization working together as a unit. we say this deliberately, knowing that the reader will think of the times when the trouble he has had in getting the number he wanted has made him think there was not a thimbleful of intelligence among all of the people associated with the entire telephone company. but considering the body of employees as a whole the standard of courteous and competent service is extraordinarily high. the public is impatient and prone to remember bad connections instead of good ones. it is ignorant also and has very small conception of what a girl at central is doing. and it is quick to blame her for faults of its own. one of the worst features of telephone service is the fact that when one is angry or exasperated he seldom quarrels with the right person. some time ago a man was waked in the middle of the night by the ringing of the telephone bell. he got out of bed to answer it and discovered that the man was trying to get another number. he went back to bed and to sleep. the telephone bell rang again, and again he got out of bed to answer it. it was the same man trying to get the same number. he went to bed and back to sleep. the telephone bell rang the third time, he got out of bed again and answered it again and found that it was still the same man trying to get the same number! "i wasn't very polite the third time," he confessed when he told about it. but the poor fellow at the other end of the wire probably had just as touching a story to tell, for unless it had been very important for him to get the number he would hardly have been so persistent. the girl at the switchboard may have had a story of her own, but what it was is one of those things which, as lord dundreary used to say, nobody can find out. the girls who enter the service of the new york telephone company (and the same thing is true in the other branches of the telephone service, especially in big cities where there are large groups to work with) are carefully selected by an employment bureau and sent to a school where they are thoroughly grounded in the mechanical part of their work and the ideals for which the company stands. they are not placed on a regular switchboard until they have proved themselves efficient on the dummy switchboard, and then it is with instructions to be courteous though the heavens fall (though they do not express it exactly that way). "it is the best place in the world to learn self-control," one of the operators declares, and any one who has ever watched them at work will add, "concentration, also." one of the most remarkable sights in new york is a central exchange where a hundred or more girls are working at lightning speed, undisturbed by the low murmur around them, intent only on the switchboard in front of them, making something like five hundred connections a minute. they are a wonderfully level-headed group, these telephone girls, wonderfully unlike their clinging-vine victorian grandmothers. they do not know how to cling. if a man telephones that he has been shot, the girl who receives the call does not faint. she sends him a doctor instead and takes the next call almost without the loss of a second. if a woman wants a policeman to get some burglars out of the house, she sends her one; if some one telephones that a house is burning, she calls out the fire department--and goes straight on with her work. now and then something spectacular happens to bring the splendid courage of the girls at the switchboards to the attention of the public, such as the magnificent service they gave from the exchange located a few feet from wall street on the day of the explosion, but ordinarily it passes, like most of the other good things in life, without comment. the new york telephone company tries to keep its girls healthy and happy. at regular intervals they are given rest periods. attractive rooms are prepared for them, tastefully furnished, well-lighted, and filled with comfortable chairs, good books, and magazines. substantial meals are supplied in the middle of the day at a nominal charge. special entertainments are planned from time to time, and best of all, the play time is kept absolutely distinct from the work time, a condition which makes for happiness as well as usefulness. the girls are not perfect, they are not infallible. and they are only a third part of a telephone call. they work under difficulties at a task which is not an easy one, and their efficiency does not rest with them alone but with the people whom they serve as well. a telephone call begins with the subscriber. very few people understand the intricate system of cable and dynamos, vacuum tubes, coil racks, storage batteries, transmitters and generators which enable them to talk from a distance, and a good many could not understand them even if they were explained. fortunately it is not necessary that they should. the subscriber's part is very simple. he should first make sure that he is calling the right number. in new york city alone, forty-eight thousand wrong numbers are asked for every day by subscribers who have not consulted the telephone directory first, or who have unconsciously transposed the digits in a number. for example, a number such as can easily be changed to . the telephone directory is a safe guide, much more so than an old letter or bill head or an uncertain memory. information may be called if the number is not in the directory, but one should be definite even with her. she cannot supply the number of mr. what-you-may-call-it or of mr. thing-um-a-bob or of mr. smith who lives down near the railroad station, and she cannot give the telephone number of a house which has no telephone in it. she has no right to answer irrelevant questions; is, in fact, prohibited from doing so. her business is to furnish numbers and she cannot do it efficiently if she is expected also to explain why a cat has whiskers, how to preserve string beans by drying them, what time it is, what time the train leaves for wakefield, or what kind of connection can be made at jones's junction. in calling a number the name of the exchange should be given first. the number itself should be called with a slight pause between the hundreds and the tens, thus, "watkins--pause--five, nine--pause--hundred" for "watkins " or "murray hill--pause--four, two--pause--six, three" for "murray hill ." the reason for this is that the switchboard before which the operator sits is honeycombed with tiny holes arranged in sections of one hundred each. each section is numbered and each of the holes within it is the termination of a subscriber's line. in locating "watkins " the girl first finds the section labelled " " and then the " " hole in that section, and if the " " is given first she has found it by the time the subscriber has finished calling the number. the number should be pronounced slowly and distinctly. when the operator repeats it the subscriber should acknowledge it, and if she repeats it incorrectly, should stop her and give her the number again. and he should always remember, however difficult it may be to make her understand, that he is talking to a girl, a human being, and that the chances are ten to one that the poor connection is not her fault. to recall the operator in case the wrong person is connected it is only necessary to move the receiver hook slowly up and down. she may not be able to attend to the recall at once but jiggling the hook angrily up and down will not get her any sooner. in fact, the more furious the subscriber becomes the less the girl knows about it, for the tiny signal light fails to register except when the hook is moved slowly; or if the switchboard is one where the operator is signalled by a little disk which falls over a blank space the disk fails to move down but remains quivering almost imperceptibly in its usual position. after he has placed a call a man should wait at the telephone or near it until the connection is made. too many men have a way of giving their secretaries a number to send through and then wandering off somewhere out of sight so that when the person is finally connected he has to wait several minutes while the secretary locates the man who started the call. it is the acme of discourtesy to keep any one waiting in this manner. it implies that your time is much more valuable than his, which may be true, but it is hardly gracious to shout it in so brazen a fashion. it has been estimated that in new york city alone, more than a full business year is lost over the telephone every day between sunrise and sunset. there are , , completed connections made every day. out of each hundred, six show a delay of a minute or more before the person called answers. in each day this amounts to a delay of , connections. two hundred and twenty-eight thousand minutes (and sometimes the delay amounts to much more than a minute) is the equivalent of days of eight hours each, or as the gentleman who compiled these interesting statistics has it, a business year and a third with all the sundays and holidays intact. in the course of a year it amounts to more than all the business days that have elapsed since columbus discovered america! it may be argued that we would be better off if we lost more than a year every day and did all our work at more leisurely pace. this may be, but the time to rest is not when the telephone bell is ringing. the telephone on a business man's desk should always be facing him and it should not be tricked out with any of the patent devices except those sanctioned by the company. most of them lessen instead of increase efficiency. a woman in her home where calls are infrequent may hide her telephone behind a lacquered screen or cover it with pink taffeta ruffles, but in a business office it is best to make no attempts to beautify it. it is when it is unadorned that the ugly little instrument gives its best service. there should always be a pad and pencil at hand so that the message (if there is one) can be taken down without delay. the person at the other end probably has not time (and certainly has not inclination) to wait until you have fumbled through the papers on your desk and the rubbish in the drawers to locate something to write on and something to write with. "hello" is a useless and obsolescent form of response in business offices. the name of the firm, of the department, or of the man himself, or of all three, according to circumstances, should be given. when there is a private operator to take care of the calls she answers with the name of the firm, blank and blank. if the person at the other end of the wire says, "i want the advertising department," she connects them and the man there answers with "advertising department." the other then may ask for the manager, in which case the manager answers with his name. it is easy to grow impatient under all these relays, but a complicated connection involving half a dozen people before the right one is reached can be accomplished in less than a minute if each person sends it straight through without stopping to exchange a number of "helloes" like a group of swiss yodelers, or to ask a lot of unnecessary questions. it is not necessary to scream over the telephone. the mouth should be held close to the transmitter and the words should be spoken carefully. in an open office where there are no partitions between the desks one should take especial pains to keep his voice modulated. one person angrily spluttering over the telephone can paralyze the work of all the people within a radius of fifty feet. if it were a necessary evil we could make ourselves grow accustomed to it. but it is not. and there is already enough unavoidable wear and tear during the course of a business day without adding this. "_hello, what do you want?_" is no way to answer a call. no decent person would speak even to a beggar at his door in this way and the visitor over the telephone, whoever he is, is entitled to a cordial greeting. _the voice with the smile wins._ an amusing story is told of a man in washington who was waked one evening about eleven o'clock by the telephone bell. at first he swore that he would not answer it but his wife insisted that it might be something very important, and finally, outraged and angry, he blundered through the dark across the room and into the hall, jerked down the receiver and yelled, "hello!" his wife, who was listening tensely for whatever ill news might be forthcoming, was perfectly amazed to hear him saying in the next breath, in the most dulcet tones he had ever used, "oh, how do you do, i'm _so_ glad you called. oh, delightful. charmed. i'm sure she will be, too. thank you. yes, indeed. so good of you. _good_-bye." it was the wife of the president of the united states asking him and his wife to dinner at the white house. if the person calling is given the wrong department he should be courteously transferred to the right one. courteously, and not with a brusque, "you've got the wrong party" or "i'm not the man you want" but with "just a minute, please, and i'll give you mr. miller." the time when people are rudest over the telephone is when some one breaks in on the wire. it might be just as well to remember that people do not interrupt intentionally, and the intruder is probably as disconcerted as the man he has interrupted. if he had inadvertently opened the wrong door in a business office the man inside would not have yelled, "get out of here," but over the telephone he will shriek, "get off the wire" in a tone he would hardly use to drive the cow out of a cabbage patch. in an effort to secure better manners among their subscribers the telephone company has asked them to try to visualize the person at the other end of the wire and to imagine that they are talking face to face. many times a man will say things over the telephone--rude, profane, angry, insulting things, which he would not dream of saying if he were actually before the man he is talking to. and to make it worse he is often so angry that he does not give the other a chance to explain his side of it, at least not until he has said all that he has to say, and even then he not infrequently slams the receiver down on the hook as soon as he has finished! listening on a wire passes over from the field of courtesy into that of ethics. on party lines in the country it is not considered a heinous offense to eavesdrop over the telephone, but the conversation there is for the most part harmless neighborhood gossip and it does not matter greatly who hears it. in business it is different. but it is practically impossible for any one except the operator to overhear a conversation except by accident, and it is a misdemeanor punishable by law for her to give a message to any one other than the person for whom it was intended. in every office there should be a large enough mechanical equipment manned by an efficient staff to take care of the telephone traffic without delay. "the line is busy" given in answer to a call three or four times will send the person who is calling to some other place to have his wants looked after. few places appreciate the tremendous volume of business that comes in by way of telephone or the possibilities which it offers to increase business opportunities. they are as short-sighted as the department store which, a good many years ago, when telephones were new, had them installed but took them out after a few weeks because the clerks were kept so busy taking orders over them that they did not have time to attend to the customers who came into the store! another important vantage point which, like the telephone, suffers from neglect is the reception desk. millions of dollars' worth of business is lost every year and perfect sandstorms and cyclones of animosity are generated because business men have not yet learned the great value of having the right kind of person to receive visitors. to the strangers who come--and among the idlers and swindlers and beggars who assail every successful business house are potential good friends and customers--this person represents the firm,--is, for the time being, the firm itself. it is very childish for a man to turn away from a reception desk because he does not like the manner of the person behind it, but business men, sensible ones at that, do it every day. pleasant connections of years' standing are sometimes broken off and valuable business propositions are carried to rival concerns because of indifferent or insolent treatment at the front door. only a short time ago an advertising agency lost a contract for which it had been working two years on account of the way the girl at the door received the man who came to place it. he dropped in without previous appointment and was met by a blonde young lady with highly tinted cheeks who tilted herself forward on the heels of her french pumps and pertly inquired what he wanted. he told her. "mr. hunt isn't in." "when will he be back?" "i don't know," and she swung around on the impossible heels. the man deliberated a moment and then swung around on his heels (which were very flat and sensible) and carried the contract to another agency. instances of this kind might be multiplied. some business men would have persisted until they got what they wanted from the young lady. others would have angrily reported her to the head of her office, but the majority would have acted as this man did. most men (and women), whether they are in business or not, do not underestimate their own importance and they like to feel that the rest of the world does not either. they do not like to be kept waiting; they like to be received with a nice deference, not haughtily; they do not like to be sent to the wrong department; and they love (and so do we all) talking to important people. realizing this, banks and trust companies and other big organizations have had to appoint nearly as many vice-presidents as there were second-lieutenants during the war to take care of their self-important visitors. even those whose time is not worth ten cents (a number of them are women) like to be treated as if it were worth a great deal. it is, for the most part, an innocent desire which does no one any special harm, and any business that sets out to serve the public (and there is no other kind) has to take into account all the caprices of human vanity. we cannot get away from it. benjamin franklin placed humility among the virtues he wished to cultivate, but after a time declared it impossible. "for," he said, "if i overcame pride i would be proud of my humility." courtesy is the first requirement of the business host or hostess and after that, intelligence. some business houses make the mistake of putting back of the reception desk a girl who has proved herself too dull-witted to serve anywhere else. the smiling idiot with which this country (and others) so abounds may be harmless and even useful if she is kept busy behind the lines, but, placed out where she is a buffer between the house and the outside world, she is a positive affliction. she may be pleasant enough, but the caller who comes for information and can get nothing but a smile will go away feeling about as cheerful as if he had stuck his hand into a jar of honey when he was a mile or so away from soap, water, and towel. a litter of office boys sprawling untidily over the desks and chairs in the reception room is as bad, and a snappy young lady of the "now see here, kid" variety is worse. the position is not an easy one, especially in places where there is a constant influx of miscellaneous callers, and it is hardly fair to ask a young girl to fill it. in england they use elderly men and in a number of offices over here, too. their age and manner automatically protect them (and incidentally their firms) from many undesirables that a boy or girl in the same position would have considerable difficulty in handling. and they lend the place an air of dignity and reserve quite impossible with a youngster. in some offices, especially in those where large amounts of money are stored or handled, there are door men in uniform and often plain clothes huskies near the entrances to protect the people (and the money) on the inside from cranks and crooks and criminals. in others, a physician's office, for instance, or any small office where the people who are likely to come are of the gentler sort, a young girl with a pleasing manner will do just as well as and perhaps better than any one else. in big companies where there are many departments, it is customary to maintain a regular bureau of information to which the caller who is not sure whom or what he wants is first directed, but the majority of businesses have only one person who is delegated to receive the people who come and either direct them to the person they want to see or turn them aside. most of them must be turned aside. if the stage managers in new york interviewed all the girls who want to see them, they would have no time left for anything else, and the same thing is true of nearly every man who is prominent in business or in some other way. (charlie chaplin received , letters during the first three days he was in england. suppose he had personally read each of them!) hundreds of people must be turned away, but every person who approaches a firm either to get something from it or to give something to it has a right to attention. men are in business to work, not to entertain, and they must protect themselves. but the people who are turned away must be turned away courteously, and the business house which has found some one who can do it has cause to rise and give thanks. vii traveling and selling the etiquette of traveling includes very few points not covered by the general laws of good behavior. keeping one's place in line before the ticket window, having money ready and moving aside as quickly as possible instead of lingering to converse with the ticket-seller about train schedules and divers other interesting subjects are primary rules. it is permissible to make sure that the train is the right one before getting on it, but it is unnecessary to do it more than half a dozen times. when the sign over the gate says "train for bellevue" it probably _is_ the train for bellevue, and when the guard at the gate repeats that it is the train for bellevue the chances are that he is telling the truth. an experienced traveler usually carries very little baggage. a lot of suitcases and grips are bothersome, not only to the one who has charge of them, but also to those who are cramped into small quarters because of them. a traveler may make himself as comfortable as he likes so long as it is not at the expense of the other passengers. if they object to an open window the window must stay down. lounging over a seat is bad form, especially if there is some one else in it. so is prowling from one end of the car to the other. besides, it makes some people nervous. snoring is impolite and so is talking in one's sleep, but they are beyond remedy. talking with the person in the berth above or below is not, however, and is much more disturbing than the noise of the train. forgetting the number of one's berth and blundering into the wrong place is a serious breach of good manners in a sleeping car, and it is extremely severe on timid persons who have gone to bed with visions before their minds of the man who was murdered in lower ten and the woman who brought her husband's corpse from florida in the same berth with her. among men, "picking up" acquaintances on a train or boat is allowable if it comes about in a natural way, but there are men who object to it. many business men do not discontinue their work because they are traveling. portable typewriters, secretaries, the telegraph and other means of swift communication have made it possible for them to accomplish almost as much as if they were in the office back home. such men do not like to be interrupted, and if a garrulous or an intrusive person approaches it is within the bounds of courtesy to turn him aside. generally, however, there is a comradery of the road, a sort of good fellowship among voyagers which lets down ordinary bars, and the men who like to rest as they travel find it highly diverting and interesting to talk with other men from various parts of the country. this holds true in hotels, especially in the commercial hotels, where traveling men foregather to meet their customers and transact their business, and in hotels in small places where the possibilities for amusement are limited and the people have to depend on one another for entertainment. but there are limits. no man should ever thrust himself upon another and it is almost an iron clad rule that he should never "pick up" women acquaintances when traveling. it is permissible to talk with them, but not to annoy them with personal attentions nor to place them under obligation by paying their bills. if a man and a woman who are traveling on the same train fall into conversation and go into the dining car together, each one should pay his or her own check, or if he insists upon paying at the table she should insist upon settling afterwards. in hotels also this is essentially true. hotels are judged more by the people who come to them than by anything else. the guests indicate the quality of the service, and for this reason, most hotels prefer that they be gentlemen. there is an atmosphere about a first-class hotel that frightens away second-rate people. most places have standards and many a man has been turned away even when there was an empty room because the management did not like his looks. tipping is one of the most vexatious petty problems with which a traveler is confronted. it is an undemocratic custom which every sensible man deplores but sees no way around. waiters, porters, and other functionaries who are in positions to receive tips draw very small salaries, if any. they depend upon the generosity of the public they serve. the system may be all wrong (we believe it is) but it means bread and butter to those who live by it, and it is only just, as matters are now arranged, for the traveler to pay. it is foolish to tip extravagantly or to tip every pirate who performs even the most trifling service, but a small fee, especially if the service has been good, is a courtesy not to be forgotten. tipping originally grew out of kindness. the knight who had received special attention at the hands of his squire expressed his gratitude by a special reward. the word "gratuity" itself indicates that the little gift was once simply a spontaneous act of thoughtfulness. it has degenerated into a perfunctory habit, but it should not be so. excellent service deserves a recompense just as slip-shod service does not. and no one has a right to spoil a waiter (or any one else) by tipping him for inefficient work. in hotels and restaurants the standard fee is ten per cent of the bill. regular travelling of any kind even under favorable circumstances is a great wear and tear on the disposition. commuters who go in and out of town every day are a notoriously hag-ridden lot, and the men who go on the road are not much better. but there is one enormous difference. it is the privilege of the commuter to growl as much as he likes about the discomforts of the road and the stupidity of the men who make up the time tables, but travelling men--we are speaking of salesmen especially--can never indulge in the luxury of a grouch. one of the biggest parts of his job is to keep cheerful all the time and that in itself is no small task. (try it and see.) a farmer can wear a frown as heavy as a summer thunder cloud and the potatoes will grow just the same; a mechanic can swear at the automobile he is putting into shape (a very impolite thing to do even when there is no one but the machine to hear), and the bolts and screws will hold just as fast; a lawyer can knit his brows over his brief case and come to his solution just as quickly as if he sat grinning at it, but the salesman must smile, smile, smile. the season may be dull, the crops may be bad, there may be strikes, lockouts, depressions and deflations, unemployment--it makes no difference--he must keep cheerful. it is the courtesy of salesmanship, and it is this quality more than any other that makes selling a young man's job--we do not mean in years, but in spirit--an old one could not stand it. in the good old days when the country was young and everybody, from all accounts we can gather, was happy, salesmen in the present sense of the term were almost unknown. there were peddlers, characters as picturesque as gipsies, who travelled about the country preying chiefly on the farmers. often they spent the night--hotel accommodations were few and houses were far apart--and entertained the family with lively tales of life on the road. next morning they gave the children trifling presents, swindled the farmer out of several dollars and made themselves generally agreeable. the farmer took it all in good part and looked forward with pleasure to the next visit. the peddlers came in pairs then, like snakes, but they were for the most part welcome and there was genuine regret when they became things of the past like top-buggies and prince albert coats. after the peddler came the drummer, a rough, noisy chap, as his name indicates, harmless enough, but economically not much more significant than the peddler. he stayed in the business district where he was tolerated with good-natured indulgence. he was less objectionable than the man who followed him, the agent. he was (and is) a house-to-house and office-to-office canvasser and a general nuisance. he sold everything from books to life insurance, from patent potato peelers to opera glasses. he still survives, but not in large numbers, for his work, like that of the peddler and the drummer, has been swallowed up by the salesman. the rewards which modern salesmanship holds out to those who succeed at it are so large that the field has attracted all kinds of men, highly efficient ones who love the game for its own sake, grossly incompetent ones who, having failed at something else, have decided to try this, and adventurers who believe they see in it a chance to get rich quick. the teachers of salesmanship tell us that we are all selling something, even when there is no visible product. the worker, according to them, is selling his services just as the salesman is selling goods. it may be true, but we all could not (and it is a blessing) go out and sell things in the ordinary sense in which we use the word. some of us have to be producers. but the salesman's work is important. we do not discredit it. salesmanship is built on faith. a man must believe in his product and then must make other people believe in it as firmly as he does. so devoted are some salesmen to their work that it is difficult to tell whether they consider their calling a trade, a profession, a science, or a religion. sometimes it is all four. sometimes it goes beyond them and becomes a kind of mesmerism in which the salesman uses a sort of hypnotic process (which is simply the result of being over-anxious to sell) to persuade the prospect that he cannot wait another day before buying the particular article that the salesman is distributing. the article may be stocks and bonds, wash cloths, soap, or hair nets. it makes no difference, but he must be filled with enthusiasm and must be able to pass it along. and this very virtue which is the foundation of successful salesmanship is likely to lead the salesman into gross rudeness. for the man who is selling is so eager and so earnest that he forgets that the man who is buying may have his own ideas on the subject. the first step in salesmanship is to acquire a thorough knowledge of the product. the next is to gain access to the man who is to buy it. this is not always easy. business men have been annoyed so much by agents that they have had to erect barriers, in many instances almost impenetrable ones. it is especially difficult in big cities where the pressure is heavy, but most worth while business men have learned the value of contact with the world outside and are willing to give almost any man an interview if he can show a valid reason why he should have it. whether he gets a second interview or not depends upon how he handled the first one. there are many ways of getting into an office. a salesman usually stands a much better chance if he writes ahead for an appointment. it is much more courteous to ask a man when he wants to see you than to drop in on him casually and trust to luck that the time is not inopportune. some salesmen are afraid to write because they think the knowledge of what they have to sell will prejudice the prospect against it. at the same time they feel that if they can only get a chance to talk to him a few minutes they can over-ride the prejudice. a salesman may come into an office without letting the man know what his purpose is (though it is best to begin with cards on the table) but he will not come in (unless he is a crook) under false pretenses. the friends of a salesman can sometimes be very useful to him in presenting him to valuable prospects, and when they feel that the meeting will result in mutual benefit they are glad to do it. sometimes the friend will give a letter or a card of introduction. sometimes he will telephone or speak for an appointment. it is best when these come unsolicited, though it is permissible to ask for them. no man should depend upon the help of his friends. a salesman should be able to stand on his own feet, and if he and his product together do not form a strong enough combination to break down all obstructions there is something wrong with one or the other of them. the best card of admission at the door of a business office is a pleasing personal appearance coupled with a calm and assured manner. this is a universal standard of measuring a man's character and calibre. until we have heard him speak we judge him by the way he looks. it is a dangerous practice, as the proverb warns us, but the percentage of hits is high enough to make us continue to use it. a favorite device with a certain cheap type of salesman is to give his name to the girl at the entrance desk and ask her to tell mr. brown that mr. green has sent mr. smith to call. the mr. green is entirely fictitious, but since mr. brown has several business acquaintances of that name, he interrupts his work and comes out to see mr. smith and discovers that he is a life insurance agent who thinks that if he can once get inside he can "put it across." most business men have no use for such practices and rarely allow the salesmen who employ them to stay in their offices any longer than it takes to get them out. besides, the salesman places himself under a handicap to begin with. he will find it pretty hard to convince the man in the office that he is not dishonest about his goods just as he is about himself. he is the greatest enemy of his profession. and he makes the work of every one else engaged in it infinitely harder. it is something every business and profession has to fight against--the dishonest grafter who is using it as a means of swindling society. most salesmen give their names at the entrance desk instead of presenting their cards. psychologists and experience have taught them that the card is distracting and that even if the interview is granted it is harder to get the attention of the other man if he has a card to twiddle between his fingers. it is more conventional to send in a card (a good card is a letter of introduction in itself) but if the salesman finds it a handicap, however slight, he should by all means dispense with it. if the card is cheap or flashy or offensive in any way it arouses prejudice against the man who bears it before he has had a chance to present his case in person. the business card may be the same as the personal card, simply a bit of pasteboard bearing the name and perhaps the address, or it may be larger than the ordinary personal card and bear the name of the firm for which the salesman is working, and in addition, if it is a very simple design, the trademark of the firm. whether to rise when a caller enters and shake hands is a question to be settled by each person according to the way he likes best. it is certainly more gracious to rise and ask him to be seated before resuming one's own place. but promiscuous handshaking is an american habit which europeans as a rule frown upon and in which a number of americans do not indulge, for they like the grasp of their hand to mean something more than a careless greeting and reserve it for their friends. in any case, the caller should not be the first to extend his hand. if a man is accustomed to see a great number of people he will find it too much of a strain on his vitality to shake hands with them all. roosevelt used to surprise strangers with the laxness of his grasp, but the colonel had learned to conserve his strength in small things so that he might give it to great ones. the president of the united states has more than once in the course of the history of our country come to the end of the day with his hands bleeding from the number of times people have pressed it during the day. now the president ought to be willing to give his life for his country, but he ought not to be required to give it in this way. it probably meant a great deal to each one of the people in the throng to be able to say, "i once shook hands with the president," but how much more it would have meant if each one of them could have said, "one day i helped my president," even if the help was so small an act of thoughtfulness as forbearing to shake his hand. but to get back to salesmen: some of them have a way, especially the over-zealous ones, of getting as close to the prospect as is physically possible. they place their papers or their brief cases on the desk before which the prospect is sitting, hitch their chairs up as close as they can, and talk with their breath in his face. no one likes this and it is only a rude and thoughtless salesman who is guilty of it. one man who had been vexed by it over and over again had the visitor's chair nailed to the floor in his office some little distance from his own. and he never had a caller who didn't try to move it nearer to him! for years it has been the habit for business men to receive their callers at their desks, but lately there has been a turning away from this. the desk is usually littered with papers and letters which the caller can hardly help reading, and there are constant interruptions from the telephone and the other members of the office. for these reasons a number of business men are going out to see their callers instead of bringing them in to see them, a practice which is much more cordial than the other if one can afford the time for it. one big business house abolished its large reception room and built in a number of smaller ones instead. in this way each visitor has privacy and there is a feeling of hospitality and coziness about the little room which the bigger one failed to give. each room was fitted up with comfortable chairs, books, and magazines so that if the caller had to wait he would have the means of entertaining himself. once a man agrees to see a salesman or other visitor he should give, in so far as it is possible, his full attention to him. it is better to refuse an audience altogether than to give it grudgingly. a prominent man cannot possibly see all of the people, salesmen and whatnot, who want to talk with him or he would have no time left to keep himself prominent. a busy man has to protect himself against the cranks and idlers who try to gain access to him, and most men have to have devices by which they can rid themselves of objectionable or tiresome callers. one man who has a constant stream of visitors has only one chair in his office, and he sits in it. another never allows a visitor to enter his office, but goes to the outer reception room and stands while he talks. one man stands up as a signal that the interview is at an end. another begins to fumble with the papers on his desk, and the salesman does not live who is not familiar with the man who must hurry out to lunch or who has only five minutes to catch a train. one man has his secretary or his office boy interrupt him after a visitor has been in as much as ten minutes, to tell him that mr. so-and-so is waiting outside. another rises to his feet and walks slowly toward the door, the salesman following, until he has maneuvered him out. if the salesman is a man of sense none of these devices will be necessary. he knows that a courteous and prompt departure helps his cause much more than an annoying persistence, and the man who stays after his prospect's mind has lost every interest except to get him out of the way is lacking in one of the fundamentals of social good manners as well as business good manners. rarely, perhaps never, does he succeed. for the successful salesman is the one who can put himself into his prospect's place and let him know that he has made a study of his needs and is there to help him. carefully prepared approaches and memorized speeches are worth much to the beginner, but an agility in adapting himself is much more important. ludendorff failed to get to paris because his original plan was upset and he could not think quickly enough to rally the german army and attack from a different angle. most salesmen have to talk to men who are continually interrupted to attend to something else. and most business men know what they want, or think they do, and when they ask a direct question they want a direct answer. many a young salesman has ruined himself so far as his career was concerned because he went out with instructions to keep the interview in his hands and every time the man he was "selling" asked a question he passed airily over it and kept stubbornly on the road he had mapped out for himself. the salesman cannot think in theoretical terms; he must think concretely and from the point of view of the man he is trying to convince. as one very excellent salesman has put it, he must get the prospect's own story and tell it to him in different words, and if he can actually show him a way to decrease expenses or to increase output he will win not only his attention, but his heart as well. the salesman must be absorbed in his commodity, but not to the exclusion of the man he is trying to "sell." a beginner of this type went into a man's office some time ago and rattled off a speech he had memorized about some charts. the man listened until he came to the end--the boy was talking so rapidly and excitedly that it would have been hard to interrupt him except by shouting at him--and then quietly told him that he had not been able to understand a word of what he had said. "you have not been talking to me," he explained. "you have been talking at me." another salesman of the same general kind went into the office of a busy lawyer one morning recently in a building which happened to be owned by the lawyer. "i am going to give you some books," he announced. the lawyer asked him what they were, but the salesman refused to be diverted before he had led up to the dramatic moment in his carefully planned speech at which he thought it best to mention the name of the books. he went through the whole of his canvass and then thrust a paper under the lawyer's face with "sign here" above the dotted line. "i thought you were going to give them to me," the lawyer said. the salesman began to explain that of course he could not give him the books outright and so on and on and on--everybody has heard this part of his speech. the lawyer laughed and the salesman lost his temper. very angry, he started out of the room. near the door which opened into the hall was another door which opened into a closet that contained a shelf which was a little more than five feet high. the salesman opened this door by mistake and struck his head smartly against the shelf. this made him angrier than ever. he jerked the other door open and slammed it behind him with a crash that nearly broke the glass out. this was more than the lawyer could stand. he sprang up and started in pursuit of the salesman, who by this time was on his way into another office in the same building. the lawyer asked him where he was going. the salesman told him. "not in my building," the lawyer said. "i can't have the men who have offices here disturbed by people who act like this. now go on," he added kindly but firmly, "and let's forget that you ever came here." and the salesman went. salesmanship is service, and the man who persuades another to buy something he knows he does not want, does not need, and cannot use, is a scoundrel. "good salesmanship," and this is the only sort that any self-respecting man will engage in, "is selling goods that won't come back to customers that will." it is cumulative in its effect, and the man who sells another something that really fills a want wins his eternal gratitude and friendship. he tells his friends about it, they come to the same salesman and the product begins almost to sell itself. but it takes patience and courtesy to bring it up to this point. some salesmen kill a territory on their first trip. bad manners can do it very easily. sometimes they make themselves so objectionable that the customer will buy to get rid of them, especially if the purchase does not involve more than a dollar or two. sometimes they carry the customer along so smoothly with plausible arguments that they persuade him to buy something that he knows he does not want. it is all right so long as the salesman is present, but discontent follows in his trail. sometimes--stocks and bonds salesmen are guilty here--they wheedle the customer into buying more than he can afford, beginning on the premise that since their stocks are good (and the men who sell fraudulent ones use the same methods) a man should if he has a hundred dollars buy a hundred dollars' worth, if he has a million he should buy a million dollars' worth, if he has a home he must mortgage it, if he has an automobile he must sell it. no good salesman works like this. people are very gullible and it takes little argument to persuade them to invest nearly all they have in something that will make them rich in a hurry, but the fact that they are foolish is not quite sufficient justification for fooling them. even if the stocks and bonds are all the salesman believes and represents them to be, no man has a right to risk his home or his happiness for them. a worth while salesman leaves his customer satisfied and comes back a year later and finds him still satisfied. and this sort of customer is the best advertisement and the best friend any business can have. bad salesmen create violent prejudices against the firms they represent. for the average customer, like the average man, judges the whole of a thing by the part that he sees. to most of us the word chinaman calls up the picture of the laundryman around the corner in spite of the fact that there are some three hundred million chinamen in the world engaged in other occupations. salesmen who are consumed with their own importance do their firms more harm than good. they usually are men in positions too big for them (they may not be very big at that) and are for the most part of not much more real consequence than the gnat which sat on the tip of the bull's horn and cried, "see what a dust i raise!" glum and sullen salesmen--there are not many of them--are of little genuine value to their firms. it is not true that when you weep you weep alone. gloomy moods are as contagious as pleasant ones, and a happy man radiates happiness. it is not easy to look pleasant when one's nerves are bruised from miscellaneous contacts with all sorts of people, but it is an actual fact that assuming the gestures of a mood will often induce the mood itself. the man who forces himself to _look_ cheerful (we are not talking about the one who takes on an idiotic grin) may find himself after a while beginning to _feel_ cheerful. after he has greeted the elevator boy with a smile (it may be a very crooked one) and the hotel clerk and the waitress and the bootblack and the paper boy he is likely to find that the smile has straightened out into a genuine one. it does not always work--it is like counting to a hundred when one is angry--but it is worth trying. salesmen find their greatest difficulties among people of little education. it is the people with fewest ideas that cling to them most tenaciously. scholars and scientists and business men who have learned to employ scientific methods are constantly watching for something new. they welcome new discoveries and new ideas, but the man in the backwoods of ignorance has a fence around the limits of his mind and it is hard for anything to get inside it. he is open to conviction, but like the scotsman, he would like to see the person who could "convict" him. it is hard work to get a new idea into the mind of a man who is encased in a shell of ignorance or prejudice, but the salesman is worse than bad-mannered who lets another man, whoever he is, know that he thinks his religion is no good, that his political party is rotten, that his country is not worth a cancelled postage stamp, and that the people of his race are "frogs," "square-heads," "dagos," "wops," or "kikes." salesmen who are themselves courteous usually meet with courtesy. the people who move graciously through life find comparatively little rudeness in the world. and a good salesman is courteous to all men alike. with him overalls command as much respect as broadcloth. it pays--not only in money, but in other things that are worth more. a salesman should be especially careful of his attitude toward the representatives of rival houses and their products. his eagerness to advance his own cause should never lead him into belittling them. he need not go out of his way to praise them nor should he speak of them insincerely in glowing terms; but an honest word of commendation shows that he is not afraid of his rivals in spite of the fact that they too have excellent goods, and when it is impossible to speak well of them it is best to stay silent. it is not hard to see why business men spend so much time and effort in selecting their salesmen. they know that one who is ill-mannered or offensive in any way indicates either a lack of breeding or a lack of judgment on the part of the parent concern. and one is about as bad as the other. viii the business of writing half the business letters which are written should never be written at all, and of the other half so many are incomplete or incoherent that a transaction which could be finished and filed away in two letters frequently requires six or eight. a good letter is the result of clear thinking and careful planning. in the case of the sales-letter it sometimes takes several weeks to write one, but for ordinary correspondence a few minutes is usually all that is necessary. the length of time does not matter--it is the sort of letter which is produced at the end of it. books of commercial correspondence give a number of rules and standards by which a letter can be measured. but all rules of thumb are dangerous, and there are only two items which are essential. the others are valuable only as they contribute to them. the letter must succeed in getting its idea across and it must build up good will for its firm. and the best one is the one which accomplishes this most courteously and most completely in the briefest space of time (and paper). there should be a reason back of every letter if it is only to say "thank you" to a customer. too much of our national energy goes up in waste effort, in aimless advertising, worthless salesmanship, ineffective letter writing, and in a thousand and one other ways. a lot of it is hammered out on the typewriters transcribing perfectly useless letters to paper which might really be worth something if it were given over to a different purpose. a good letter never attracts the mind of the reader to itself as a thing apart from its contents. last year a publishing house sent out a hundred test letters advertising one of their books. three answers came back, none of them ordering the book, but all three praising the letter. one was from a teacher of commercial english who declared that he was going to use it as a model in his classes, and the other two congratulated the firm on having so excellent a correspondent. the physical make-up of the letter was attractive, it was written by a college graduate and couched in clear, correct, and colorful english. and yet it was no good. no _letter and no advertisement is any good which calls attention to itself instead of the message it is trying to deliver_. there is not much room for individuality in the make-up of a letter. custom has standardized it, and startling variations from the conventional format indicates freakishness rather than originality. they are like that astonishing gentleman who walks up fifth avenue on the coldest mornings in the year, bareheaded, coatless, sockless, clad in white flannels and tennis slippers. he attracts attention, but he makes us shiver. plain white paper of good quality is always in good taste. certain dull-tinted papers are not bad, but gaudy colors, flashy designs, and ornate letter heads are taboo in all high types of business. simple headings giving explicit and useful information are best. the name and address of the firm (and "new york" or "chicago" is not sufficient in spite of the fact that a good many places go into no more detail than this), the cable address if it has one, the telephone number and the trademark if it is an inconspicuous one (there is a difference between _conspicuous_ and _distinctive_) are all that any business house needs. hotels are often pictured on their own stationery in a way that is anything but modest, but there is a very good reason for it. the first thing most people want to know about a hotel is what sort of looking place it is. all right, here you are. some factories, especially those that are proud of their appearance, carry their own picture on their stationery. there is nothing to say against it, but one of the most beautiful factories in america has on its letter head only the name of the firm, the address, and a small trademark engraved in black. sometimes a picture, in a sales letter, for instance, supplements the written matter in a most effective way. and whenever any kind of device is really helpful it should by all means be used, subject only to the limits of good taste. it is more practical in business to use standard size envelopes. if window envelopes are used the window should be clear, the paper white or nearly so, and the typewritten address a good honest black. the enclosure should fit snugly and should be placed so that the address is in plain view without having to be jiggled around in the envelope first. a letter passes through the hands of several postal clerks before it reaches the person to whom it is addressed, and if each one of them has to stop to play with it awhile an appreciable amount of time is lost, not to mention the strain it puts on their respective tempers. the paper of which an envelope is made should always be opaque enough to conceal the contents of the letter. practically all business letters are typewritten. occasionally a "help wanted" advertisement requests that the answer be in the applicant's own handwriting, but even this is rare. in most places the typing is taken care of by girls who have been trained for the purpose, but most young girls just entering business are highly irresponsible, and it is necessary for the men and women who dictate the letters to know what constitutes a pleasing make-up so that they can point out the flaws and give suggestions for doing away with them. the letter should be arranged symmetrically on the page with ample margins all around. nothing but experience in copying her own notes will teach a stenographer to estimate them correctly so that she will not have to rewrite badly placed letters. it is a little point, but an important one. each subject considered in a letter should be treated in a separate paragraph, and each paragraph should be set off from the others by a wider space than that between the lines, double space between the paragraphs when there is single space between the lines, triple space between the paragraphs when there is a double space between the lines, and so on. a business letter should handle only one subject. two letters should be dispatched if two subjects are to be covered. this enables the house receiving the letter to file it so that it can be found when it is needed. when a letter is addressed to an individual it is better to begin "dear mr. brown" or "my dear mr. brown" than "dear sir" or "my dear sir." "gentlemen" or "ladies" is sometime used in salutation when a letter is addressed to a group. "dear friend" is permissible in general letters sent out to persons of both sexes. honorary titles should be used in the address when they take the place of "mr.," such titles as reverend, doctor, honorable (abbreviated to rev., dr., hon.,) and the like. titles should not be dropped except in the case of personal letters. special care should be taken with the outside address. state abbreviations should be used sparingly when there is a chance of confusion as in the case of ga., va., la., and pa. "city" is not sufficient and should never be used. nor should the name of the state ever be omitted even when the letter is addressed to some other point in the same state, as from new york to brooklyn. and postage should be complete. a letter on which there is two cents due has placed itself under a pretty severe handicap before it is opened. it is astonishing how many letters go out every day unsigned, lacking enclosures, carrying the wrong addresses, bearing insufficient postage, and showing other evidences of carelessness and thoughtlessness. in a town in new england last year one of the specialty shops received at christmas time twenty different lots of money--money orders, stamps, and cash--by mail, not one of which bore the slightest clue to the identity of the sender. countless times during the year this happens in every mail order house. the initials of the dictator and of the stenographer in the lower left-hand corner of a letter serve not only to identify the carbon, but often to place the letter itself if it has gone out without signature. the signature should be legible, or if the one who writes it enjoys making flourishes he may do so if he will have the name neatly typed either just below the name or just above it. it should be written in ink (black or blue ink), not in pencil or colored crayon, and it should be blotted before the page is folded. the dictator himself should sign the letter whenever possible. "dictated but not read" bears the mark of discourtesy and sometimes brings back a letter with "received but not read" written across it. when it is necessary to leave the office before signing his letters, a business man should deputize his stenographer to do it, in which case she writes his name in full with her initials just below it. a better plan is to have another person take care of the entire letter, beginning it something like, "since mr. blake is away from the office to-day he has asked me to let you know----" the complimentary close to a business letter should be "yours truly," "yours sincerely" or something of the kind, and not "yours cordially," "yours faithfully" or "yours gratefully" unless the circumstances warrant it. in writing a letter as a part of a large organization one should use "we" instead of "i." a firm acts collectively, no one except the president has a right to the pronoun of the first person, and he (if he is wise) seldom avails himself of it. if the matter is so near personal as to make "we" somewhat ridiculous "i" should, of course, be used instead. but one should be consistent. if "i" is used at the beginning it should be continued throughout. similarly a letter should be addressed to a firm rather than to a person, for if the person happens to be absent some one else can then take charge of it. but the address should also include the name of the addressee (whenever possible) or "advertising manager," "personnel manager" or whatever the designation of his position may be. the name may be placed in the lower left-hand corner of the letter "attention mr. green" or "attention advertising manager," and it may also be placed just above the salutation inside the letter. sometimes the subject of the letter is indicated in the same way, _re montana shipment_, _re smythe manuscript_, etc. these lines may be typed in red or in capital letters so as to catch the attention of the reader at once. if a letter is more than two pages long this line is often added to the succeeding pages, a very convenient device, for letters are sometimes misplaced in the files and this helps to locate them. a business letter should never be longer than necessary. if three lines are enough it is absurd to use more, especially if the letter is going to a firm which handles a big correspondence. some one has said with more truth than exaggeration that no man south of fourteenth street in new york reads a letter more than three lines long. but there is danger that the too brief letter will sound brusque. mail order houses which serve the small towns and the rural districts say that, all other things being equal, it is the long sales letter which brings in the best results. farmers have more leisure and they are quite willing to read long letters _if_ (and this _if_ is worth taking note of) they are interesting. all unnecessary words and all stilted phrases should be stripped from a letter. "replying to your esteemed favor," "yours of the th inst. to hand, contents noted," "yours of the th ult. received. in reply would say," "awaiting a favorable reply," "we beg to remain" are dead weights. "prox" might be added to the list, and "in reply to same." "per diem" and other latin expressions should likewise be thrown into the discard. "as per our agreement of the th" should give place to "according to our agreement of the th," and, wherever possible, simplified expression should be employed. legal phraseology should be restricted to the profession to which it belongs. wills, deeds, and other documents likely to be haled into court need "whereas's" and "wherefores" and "said's" and "same's" without end, but ordinary business letters do not. it is perfectly possible to express oneself clearly in the language of conversation (which is also the language of business) without burying the meaning in tiresome verbiage. and yet reputable business houses every day send out letters which are almost ridiculous because of the stiff and pompous way they are written. the following letter was sent recently by one of the oldest furniture houses in america: dear madam: herewith please find receipt for full payment of your bill. please accept our thanks for same. relative to the commission due mrs. robinson would say that if she will call at our office at her convenience we shall be glad to pay same to her. thanking you for past favors, we beg to remain, yours very truly, contrast that with this: dear mrs. brown: we are returning herewith your receipted bill. thank you very much. if you will have mrs. robinson call at our office at her convenience we shall take pleasure in paying her the commission due her. yours very truly, here is another letter so typical of the kind that carelessness produces: dear sir: i have your letter of the th inst. and i have forwarded it to mr. stubbs and will see him in a few days and talk the matter over. i remain yours sincerely, would it not have been just as easy to write: dear mr. thompson: thank you for your letter of the th. i have forwarded it to mr. stubbs and will see him in a few days to talk the matter over. your sincerely, in the preparation of this volume a letter of inquiry was sent out to a number of representative business houses all over the country. it was a pleasure to read the excellent replies that came in response to it. one letter reached its destination in the midst of a strike, but the publicity manager of the firm sent a cordial answer, which began: your very courteous letter to mr. jennings came at a time when his mind is pretty well occupied with thoughts concerning the employment situation in our various plants. we shall endeavor, therefore, to give you such information as comes to mind with regard to matters undertaken by the company which have contributed to the standard of courtesy which exists in the departments here. we select another at random: it pleases us very much to know that our company has been described to you as one which practises courtesy in business. we should like nothing better than to have all our employees live up to the reputation credited to them by mr. haight. as for our methods of obtaining it---- contrast these two excellent beginnings with (and this one is authentic, too): in reply to yours of the th inst. relative to what part courtesy plays in business and office management would say that it is very important. routine letters must be standardized--a house must conserve its own time as well as that of its customers--but a routine letter must never be used unless it adequately covers the situation. there is no excuse for a poor routine letter, for there is plenty of time to think it out, and there is no excuse for sending a routine letter when it does not thoroughly answer the correspondent's question. the man who is answering a letter must put himself in the place of the one who wrote it. this is a fair sample of what happens when a letter is written by a person who either has no imagination at all, or does not use what he has. a woman who had just moved to new york lost the key to her apartment and wrote to her landlord for another. this answer came: replying to your letter, will say am sorry but it is not the custom of the landlord to furnish more than one key for an apartment. should the tenant lose or misplace the key it is up to them to replace same. the woman felt a justifiable sense of irritation. she was new to the city and thought she was taking the most direct method of replacing "same." perhaps she should have known better, but she did not. buying a key is not so simple as buying a box of matches and to a newcomer it is a matter of some little difficulty. she was at least entitled to a bit more information and to more courteous treatment than is shown in the letter signed by his landlordly hand. she went to see him and found him most suave and polite (which was his habit face to face with a woman). he explained the heavy expense of furnishing careless tenants with new keys (which she understood perfectly to begin with) and was most apologetic when he discovered that she had intended all the time to pay for it. it would have been just as easy for him in the beginning to write: i am sorry that i cannot send you a key, but we have had so many similar requests that we have had to discontinue complying with them. you will find an excellent locksmith at west st. his telephone number is main . or: i am sending you the key herewith. there is a nominal charge for it which will be added to your bill at the end of the month. i hope it will reach you safely. it is a nuisance to be without one. imagination is indispensable to good letter writing, but it is going rather far when one sends thanks in advance for a favor which he expects to be conferred. even those who take pleasure in granting favors like to feel that they do so of their own free will. it takes away the pleasure of doing it when some one asks a favor and then assumes the thing done. royalty alone are so highly privileged as to have simply to voice their wishes to have them complied with, and royalty has gone out of fashion. at one point in their journey all the travellers in "pilgrim's progress" exchanged burdens, but they did not go far before each one begged to have back his original load. that is what would happen if the man who dictates a letter were to exchange places with his stenographer. each would then appreciate the position of the other, and if they were once in a while to make the transfer in their minds (imagination in business again) they would come nearer the sympathetic understanding that is the basis of good teamwork. the responsibility for a letter is divided between them, and it is important that the circumstances under which it is written should be favorable. the girl should be placed in a comfortable position so that she can hear without difficulty. the dictator should not smoke whether she objects to it or not. he should have in mind what he wants to say before he begins speaking, and then he should pronounce his words evenly and distinctly. he should not bang on the desk with his fist, flourish his arms in the air, talk in rhetorical rushes with long pauses between the phrases, or raise his voice to a thunderous pitch and then let it sink to a cooing murmur. these things have not the slightest effect on the typewritten page, and they make it very hard for the girl to take correct notes. no one should write a letter while he is angry, or if he writes it (and it is sometimes a relief to write a scorching letter) he should not mail it. it is said that roosevelt used to write very angry letters to people who deserved them, drawing liberally upon his very expressive supply of abusive words for the occasion. each time his secretary quietly stopped the letter. each time the colonel came in the day after and asked if the letter had been sent. each time the secretary said, "no, that one did not get off." and each time the colonel exclaimed, "good! we won't send it!" it came to be a regular part of the day's routine. inexperienced dictators will find it good practice to have their stenographers read back their letters so they can recast awkward sentences and make other improvements. it can usually be discontinued after a while, for dictating, like nearly everything else, becomes easier with habit. a considerate man will show special forbearance in breaking in a new girl. different voices are hard to grow accustomed to, and a girl who is perfectly capable of taking dictation from one man will find it very difficult to follow another until she has grown used to the sound of his voice. it is like learning a foreign language. the pupil understands his teacher, but he does not understand any one else until he has got "the hang of it." the training of a good stenographer does not end when she leaves school. she should be able not only to take down and transcribe notes neatly and correctly. she should be able to spell and punctuate correctly and to make the minor changes in phrasing and diction that so often can make a good letter of a poor one. the most fatal disease that can overtake a stenographer (or any one else) is the habit of slavishly following a routine. "many young fellows," this is from henry ford, "especially those employed in offices, fall into a routine way of doing their work that eventually makes it become like a treadmill. they do not get a broad view of the entire business. sometimes that is the fault of the employer, but that does not excuse the young man. those who command attention are the ones who are actually pushing the boss.... it pays to be ahead of your immediate job, and to do more than that for which you are paid. a mere clock watcher never gets anywhere. forget the clock and become absorbed in your job. learn to love it." the position of secretary is a responsible one. frequently she knows almost as much about his business as her employer himself (and sometimes even more). he depends upon her quite as much as she depends upon him, though in a somewhat different way. it takes personal effort together with native ability to raise any one to a position of importance, but personal effort often needs supplementing, and many business houses have taken special measures to help their employees to become good correspondents. in some places there are supervisors who give talks and discuss the actual letters, good ones and bad, which have been written. they go over the carbons and hold conferences with the correspondents who need help. in other places courtesy campaigns for a higher standard of correspondence are held, while in others the matter is placed in the hands of the heads of the various departments, acting on the assumption that these heads are men of experience and ability or they would never have attained the position they hold. the president of a bank which has branches in london and paris and other big foreign cities used every now and then to stop the boy who was carrying a basket of carbons to the file clerk and look them over. if he found a letter he did not like, or one that he did like a great deal, he sent for the person who wrote it and talked with him. it was not necessary for him to go over the letters often. the fact that the people in the office knew that it was likely to happen kept them on the alert and nearly every letter that left the organization was better because the person who wrote it knew that the man at the head was interested in it and that there was a strong chance that he might see it. what is effective in one place may not be so in another. each house must work out its own system. but one thing must be understood in the beginning, and that is that the spirit of courtesy must first abide in the home office before the people who work there can hope to send it out through the mail. roughly speaking there are eight types of business letters which nearly every business man at one time or another has to write or to consider. the first is the letter of _application_. the applicant should state simply his qualifications for the place he wants. he should not make an appeal to sympathy (sob stuff) nor should he beg or cringe. he should not demand a certain salary, though he may state what salary he would like, and he should not say "salary no object." it would probably not be true. there are comparatively few people with whom money is no object. if it is the first time the applicant has ever tried for a position he should say so; if not, he should give his reason for leaving his last place. it should not be a long letter. a direct statement of the essential facts (age, education, experiences, etc.) is all that is necessary. many times the letter of application is accompanied by, or calls for, a letter of _recommendation_. no man should allow himself to recommend another for qualities which he knows he does not possess. if he is asked for a recommendation he should speak as favorably of the person under consideration as he honestly can, and if his opinion of him is disapproving he should give it with reservations. at one time during the cleaning up of panama there was considerable talk about displacing general gorgas and a committee waited on roosevelt to suggest another man for the job. he listened and then asked them to get a letter about him from dr. william h. welsh of johns hopkins. dr. welsh wrote a letter praising the man very highly, but ended by saying that while it was true that he would be a good man for the place, he did not think he would be as good as the one they already had--general gorgas. the colonel acted upon the letter confident (because he had great faith in dr. welsh) that he was taking the wise course, which subsequent events proved it to be. "would to heaven," he said, "that every one would write such honest letters of recommendation!" the general letter of recommendation beginning "to whom it may concern" is rarely given now. it has little weight. usually a man waits until he has applied for a position and then gives the name of his reference, the person to whom he is applying writes to the one to whom he has been referred, and the entire correspondence is carried on between these two. in this way the letter of recommendation can be sincere, something almost impossible in the open letter. it is needless to add that all such correspondence should be confidential. the letter of _introduction_ is, in a measure, a letter of recommendation. the one who writes it stands sponsor for the one who bears it. it should make no extravagant claims for the one who is introduced. he should simply be given a chance to make good on his own responsibility. but it should give the reason for the presentation and suggest a way of following it up that will result in mutual pleasure or benefit. it should be in an unsealed envelope and the envelope should bear, in addition to the address, the words, "introducing mr. blank" on the lower left-hand corner. this does away with an embarrassing moment when the letter is presented in person and enables the host to greet his guest by name and ask him to be seated while he reads it. letters of introduction should not be given promiscuously. some men permit themselves to be persuaded into giving letters of introduction to people who are absolute nuisances (it is hard to refuse any one who asks for this sort of letter, but often kindest for all concerned) and then they send in secret another letter explaining how the first one came about. this really throws the burden on the person who least of all ought to bear it, the innocent man whom the first one wanted to meet. no letter of presentation is justified unless there is good reason behind it, such, as for instance, in the following: this is mr. franklin b. nesbitt. he has been in texas for several months studying economic conditions, and i believe can give you some valuable information which has resulted from his research there. he is a man upon whom you can rely. i have known him for years, and i am sure that whatever he tells you will be trustworthy. it is a common practice for a business man to give his personal card with "introducing mr. mills" or "introducing mr. mills of howard and powell motor co." written across it to a man whom he wishes to introduce to another. this enables him to get an interview. what he does with it rests entirely with him. _sales letters_ are a highly specialized group given over, for the most part, to experts. their most common fault is overstatement or patronizing. the advertisements inserted in trade papers and the letters sent out to the "trade" are often so condescendingly written that they infuriate the men to whom they are addressed. it is safer to assume that the man you are writing to is an intelligent human being. it is better to overestimate his mentality than to underestimate it, and it is better to "talk" to him in the letter than to "write" to him. sales letters are, as a rule, general, not personal, and yet the best ones have the personal touch. the letter is a silent salesman whose function is to anticipate the needs of its customers and offer to supply them. in this as in any other kind of salesmanship it is the spirit which counts for most, and the spirit of genuine helpfulness (mutual helpfulness) gives pulling power to almost any letter. the one which presents a special offer on special terms specially arranged for the benefit of the customer wins out almost every time, provided, of course, that the offer is worth presenting. there is no use in declaring that all of the benefit is to the subscriber. it would be very foolish if it were actually true. once a man went into a haberdashery to buy a coat. the shop owner unctuously declared that he was not making a cent of profit, was selling it for less than it cost him, and so on and on. the man walked out. "i'll go somewhere where they have sense enough to make a profit," he said. a sales letter should never be sent out to a large group of people without first having been tried out on a smaller one. in this way the letter can be tested and improvements made before the whole campaign is launched. the results in the small group are a pretty fair indication of what they will be in the large one, and a tremendous amount of time and money can be saved by studying the letter carefully to see where it has failed before sending it out to make an even bigger failure. on the face of things it seems that an _order letter_ would be an easy one to write, but the mail order houses have another story to tell. order blanks should be used wherever possible. they have been carefully made and have blank spaces for the filling in of answers to the questions that are asked. in an order letter one should state exactly what he wants, how he wants it sent, and how he intends to pay for it. if the order consists of several items, each one should be listed separately. if they are ordered from a catalogue they should be identified with the catalogue description by mention of their names, their numbers and prices. one should state whether he is sending check, money, stamps, or money order, but he should not say "enclosed please find." the commonest form of _letter of acknowledgment_ is sent in answer to an order letter. if there is to be the least delay in filling the order the letter acknowledging it should say so and should give the reason for it, but even when the order is filled promptly (if it is a large or a comparatively large one) the letter of acknowledgment should be sent. then if anything goes wrong it is easier to trace than when the customer has no record except the copy of his order letter. the letter of acknowledgment should simply thank the customer and assure him of prompt and efficient service. complaints should be acknowledged immediately. if there is to be a delay while an investigation is made, the letter of acknowledgment should simply state the fact and beg indulgence until it is finished. complaints should _always_ receive careful and courteous attention. most of them are justified, and even those that are not had something to begin on. the _letter of complaint_ should never be written hastily or angrily. it should go directly to the root of the trouble and should state as nearly as possible when and where and how it came about. one should be especially careful about placing the blame or charging to an individual what was really the fault of an unfortunate train of circumstances. the tone should never be sharp, no matter how just the complaint. "please" goes further than "now, see here." _collection letters_ are hardest to write. they should appeal to a man's sense of honor first of all. it is a cheap (and ineffective) method to beg him to pay because you need the money, and rarely brings any reaction except rousing in his mind a contempt for you. the first letter in a series (and the series often includes as many as six or eight) should be simply a reminder. drastic measures should not be taken until they are necessary, and at no time should the letters become abrupt or insulting. in the first place, it is ungentlemanly to write such letters, in the second it antagonizes the debtor, and if he gets angry enough he feels that it is hardly an obligation to pay the money; that it will "serve 'em right" if he does not do it. advertising is a sort of letter writing. each advertisement is a letter set before the public or some part of the public in the hope that it will be answered by the right person. it enters into an over-crowded field and if it is to attract attention it must be vivid, unusual, and convincing. increasingly--and there is cause to be thankful for this--exaggerated statements are being forced to disappear. in the first place the ballyhoo advertisers have shouted the public deaf. they no longer believe. in the second place advertisers themselves have waked to the menace of the irresponsible and dishonest people who are advertising and are taking legal measures to safeguard the honor of the profession. one of the most successful advertisers of modern times was a man who carried the idea of service into everything he did. for a while he had charge of soliciting advertising for automobile trucks for a certain magazine. instead of going at it blindly he made a careful study of the map of the united states and marked off the areas where automobile trucks were used, where they could be used, and where they should be used, and sent it to the manufacturers along with a statement of the circulation of the magazine and the advantages of reaching the public through it. the result was that the magazine got more advertising from the manufacturers than it could possibly handle. it is very gratifying to know that this man succeeded extraordinarily as an advertiser, for not once during his long career did he ever try to "put one over" on the public or on anybody else. no advertisement should be impertinent or importunate. during the war there was a splendid poster bearing a picture of uncle sam looking straight into your eyes and pointing his finger straight into your face as he said, "young man, your country needs you!" the poster was excellent from every point of view, but since the war, real estate companies, barber shops, restaurants and whatnot have used posters bearing the pictures of men pointing their fingers straight at you saying, "there is a home at blankville for you," "watch out to use baker's best," and "you're next!" after all, uncle sam is the only person who has a right to point his finger at you in any such manner and say, "i need you." and besides, there is the moral side of it. imitation is the sincerest flattery, but the dividing line between it and dishonesty is not always clear. and the law cannot every time prosecute the offender, for there is a kind of cleverness that enables a man to pilfer the ideas of another and recast them just sufficiently to "get by." it would be very stupid for a man not to profit by the experience of other men, but there is a vast difference between intelligent adaptation of ideas and stealing them. this is more a question of morals than of manners, for the crime--and it is a crime--is usually deliberate, while most breaches of manners are unintentional and due to either carelessness or ignorance. house memoranda are letters among the various people who are working there. they should be brief, above all things, and clear, but never at the sacrifice of courtesy. titles should not be dropped and nicknames should not be used although initials may be. memoranda should never be personal unless they are sent confidentially. an open memorandum should never contain anything that cannot be read by every one without reflecting unfavorably upon any one. and it is wise to keep in mind--no matter what you are writing--that the written record is permanent. ix morals and manners it has become a habit of late years for people to argue at great length about right and wrong, and what with complexes and psycho-analysis and what with this and that, they have almost come to the conclusion that there is no right and wrong. man, so they have decided, is a frail and tender being completely at the mercy of the traits he has inherited from his ancestors and those he has acquired from his neighbors. what he does is simply the result of the combination of circumstances that have made him what he is. there is some truth in it, of course, but what there is is no bigger than a mustard seed, and all the volumes that have been written about it, all the sermons that have been preached upon it, and all the miles of space that have been devoted to it in the newspapers and magazines have not served to increase it. most of us never give any one else credit for our achievements and there is no more reason for giving them blame for our failures. a gentleman is "lord of his own actions." he balances his own account, and whether there is a debit or a credit is a matter squarely up to him. the pivot upon which all right-thinking conduct involving relations with other people turns is the golden rule, "whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them." it is to the moral what the sun is to the physical world, and just as we have never made full use of the heat and light which we derive from the sun but could not live without that which we do use, so we have never realized more than a small part of the possibilities of the golden rule, but at the same time could not get along together in the world without the meagre part of it that we do make use of. the principle is older than the christian era, older than the sequoias of california, older than the pyramids, older than chinese civilization. it is the most precious abstract truth that man has yet discovered. it contains the germ of all that has been said and written about human brotherhood and all that has been done toward making it an accomplished fact. and if to-morrow it were to vanish from the earth we should miss it almost, if not quite, as much as we should the sun if it were to go hurtling off into space so far away that we could neither see nor feel it. in the one case there would be no life at all on earth, in the other there would be none worth living. the golden rule amounts to no more than putting yourself into another person's place. it is not always easy to do. half of the people in the united states have very little idea of what the lives of the other half are like and have no special interest in knowing. "what," we asked the manager of a bookshop which caters to a large high-grade clientèle, "do you find your greatest trouble?" "lack of imagination on the part of our customers," he answered promptly, "a total inability to put themselves into our place, to realize that we have our lives to live just as they have theirs. if we haven't a book in stock they want to know why. if we don't drop everything to attend to them they want to know why. if anything goes wrong they want to know why, but they won't listen to explanations and won't accept them when they do. they simply can't see our side of it. and they make such unreasonable demands. why, last year during the christmas rush when the shop was fairly jammed to the door and we were all in a perfect frenzy trying to wait on them all, a man called up to know if his wife was here!" it is not always easy to see life, or even a small section of life, from another person's point of view. a man very often thinks housework practically no work at all (the drudgery of it he has never realized because he has never had to do it) and a woman very often underestimates the wear and tear and strain of working in an office and getting a living out of it in competition with hundreds of other men. marie antoinette had no conception of what it meant when the french people cried for bread. it seemed impossible to her that a person could actually be hungry. "why, give them cake!" she exclaimed. it may be pretty hard for a man who is making $ , a year to sympathize with the stenographer he hires for $ or $ a year, or for her to see his side of things. but it is not impossible. very few of us could honestly go as far as the novelist who recently advocated the motto: "my neighbor is perfect" or the governor who set aside a day for the people in his state to put it into practice. we happen to know that our neighbors are, like ourselves, astonishing compounds of vice and virtue in whom any number of improvements might be made. it is not necessary to think them perfect, only to remember that each one of us, each one of them, is entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. in other words, that every man has a right to a square deal. in the ancient world there were four cardinal virtues: justice, prudence, temperance, and discretion. in the modern world of business there are only two. others may follow, but these two must come first. justice, we mean, and kindness. no man was ever really a gentleman who was not just and kind, and we think it would be almost impossible for one who is, whatever his minor shortcomings may be, not to be a gentleman. just to his employees (or to his employer), to his customers, to his friends, to himself, and this justice always tempered with kindness, the one quality giving the firmness necessary in dealing with people, the other the gentleness which is no less necessary. in the first place, and this is one of the corner stones of justice, industrial life must be made safe for the worker. and it is a job in which he has as large a part as the man who hires him. under present conditions one workman out of every eight is injured during the year and the accident is as often his fault as it is that of his employer. in some instances efficient safety devices are not provided, in others they are not made use of. special kinds of work, such as that in which the laborer is exposed to poisonous fumes, to sand blasts, dangerous chemicals or mineral dusts, need special protective devices and men with sense enough to use them. the employer cannot do his share unless the worker does his, and the worker is too quick to take a chance. the apprentice is usually cautious enough, but the old hand grows unwary. ninety-nine times he thrusts his arm in among belts whirling at lightning speed and escapes, but the hundredth time the arm is caught and mangled. and there is nothing to blame but his own carelessness. who am i? i am more powerful than the combined armies of the world. i have destroyed more men than all the wars of the nations. i am more deadly than bullets, and i have wrecked more homes than the mightiest of siege guns. i steal, in the united states, alone, over $ , , each year. i spare no one, and i find my victims among the rich and poor alike, the young and old, the strong and weak. widows and orphans know me. i loom up to such proportions that i cast my shadow over every field of labor, from the turning of the grindstone to the moving of every railroad train. i massacre thousands upon thousands of wage earners a year. i lurk in unseen places and do most of my work silently. you are warned against me but you heed not. i am relentless. i am everywhere--in the house, on the streets, in the factory, at the railroad crossings, and on the sea. i bring sickness, degradation and death, and yet few seek to avoid me. i destroy, crush or maim; i give nothing but take all. i am your worst enemy. i am carelessness any kind of carelessness which results in injury (or is likely to result in it), whether the injury is mental or physical, is criminal. no plea can justify building a theatre which cannot stand a snowstorm, a school which cannot give a maximum of safety to the children who are in it, a factory which does not provide comfortable working conditions for the people employed there, or allowing any unsafe building or part of a building to stand. there is a factory (this story is true) which places the lives of the majority of its employees in jeopardy twice a day. there are two sets of elevators, one at the front of the building for the executives and their secretaries and visitors, one at the rear for the rank and file of the employees. since there are several hundred of the latter the advantages of the division are too obvious to need discussion. we have no quarrel with it. but the apparatus upon which the elevators in the rear run is so old and so rotten and so rusty that there is constant danger of its breaking down. three times already there have been serious accidents. the men who are hired to operate the cars rarely stay more than a week or so. protests have been sent in but nothing has been done. the management knows what the conditions are but they have never stopped to realize the horror of it. it is not that they value a few dollars more than they do human life, but that they simply do not stop to think or to imagine what it would be like to have to ride in the ramshackle elevator themselves. in the offices of this factory there is an atmosphere of courtesy and good breeding far beyond the ordinary--in justice to the people there it must be said that they do not know the conditions in the rear, but the management does. and the management is polite in most of its dealings, both with its employees and outside, but polish laid over a cancerous growth like this is not courtesy. there are three essentials for good work: _good lighting_ (it must be remembered that a light that is too glaring is as bad as one that is too dim), _fresh air_ (air that is hot and damp or dry and dusty is not fresh), and _cleanliness_ (clean workrooms--and workers--clean drinking water with individual drinking cups, and in places where the work is unusually dirty, plenty of clean water for bathing purposes.) in the matter of salaries--economically one of the most important questions in the world--the employer should pay, not as little, but as much as he can afford. no man has a right to hire a girl (or a boy either) at less than a living wage and expect her to live on it. the pitiless publicity which was given the evil of hiring girls at starvation wages some years ago (in particular through the short stories of o. henry, "the little shop-girl's knight" which, according to colonel roosevelt, suggested all the reforms which he undertook in behalf of the working girls of new york) did much in the way of reform, but there is much yet to be done. money has been called the root of all evil. it is not money, but greed. greed and thoughtlessness. sir james barrie says stupidity and jealousy, but both these might be included under thoughtlessness. men who are generous almost to a fault when a case of individual need is brought before them will hire girls at less than any one could exist on in decency. when they meet these same girls in the hall or when they come directly into contact with them in their work they may be polite enough, but their politeness is not worth a tinker's curse. justice must come first. only if the employer pays a fair day's wage can he expect a fair day's work. "even then," he protests, "i can't get it." and this is, unfortunately, in large measure true. as kipling said some few years ago, and it still holds, from forge and farm and mine and bench deck, altar, outpost lone-- mill, school, battalion, counter, trench, rail, senate, sheepfold, throne-- creation's cry goes up on high from age to cheated age: "send us the men who do the work for which they draw the wage." "i can't even get them here on time," the employer's wail continues. the employee may respond that the employer is not there, but this has nothing to do with it. most people are paid to get to their work at a certain hour. they have a daily appointment with their business at a specified time. it is wise and honorable to keep it. tardiness is a habit, and, like most others, considerably harder to break than to form, but punctuality also is a habit, not quite so easy to establish as tardiness because it is based on strength while the other is based on weakness. most of us hate to get up in the morning, but it is good discipline for the soul, and we have the words of poets as well as of business men that early to bed and early to rise is the way to be healthy, wealthy, and wise. time is one of the most valuable of commodities. more people are discharged for coming in late than for any other reason, not excepting (we believe this no exaggeration) "lay-offs" during dull seasons. slipping out before the regular time and soldiering on the job fall into the same classification with tardiness. such practices the employee too often looks upon as a smart way of getting around authority, blithely ignoring the fact which has so many times been called to our attention: that what a man does to a job is not half so important as what the job does to him. the material loss which comes from it is the least of its harms. all work and no play makes jack a dull boy, but he is duller yet if he tries to mix them. intense concentration during working hours followed by complete rest is the only way to make a contented workman, and it is the happy workman (just as it is the happy warrior), in spite of all that is said about divine discontent, who counts for most both to himself and to his community. there is a gladness about earnest eager work which is hard to find in anything else. "i know what pleasure is," declared robert louis stevenson, "because i have done good work." gossiping, idling, smoking, writing personal letters during working hours (these usually on the firm's stationery), and a thousand and one other petty acts of dishonesty are ruinous, not so much to the house which tolerates them (because it cannot help itself) as to the person who commits them. telephones are the cause of a good deal of disturbance during business hours in places where employees spend an appreciable amount of time on personal calls. in some organizations they are prohibited altogether; but in most they are allowed if not carried to excess. it is not business people who need education in this so much as their friends who have never been in business and seem unable to realize that personal calls are not only annoying, but time-killing and distracting. part of the unrest and unhappiness among employees is due to the fact that vast numbers of them are working not at what they want to do but at what they have to do, marking time until they can get something better. it is very commendable for a man to be constantly watching out to improve himself, but it does not in the meanwhile excuse him from doing his best at the job for which he is drawing pay. it is dishonest. it is unsportsmanlike. it is unmanly. the question of salary is, from whatever angle it is approached, a delicate one. "my experience is," observed david harum, "that most men's hearts is located ruther closter to their britchis pockets than they are to their vest pockets." it is a tender subject, and one that causes more trouble than almost any other in the world. employees who are trusted with the payroll should not divulge figures and employees who are on the payroll should not discuss and compare salaries. jones cannot understand why brown gets more than he does when he knows that brown's work is not so good, brown cannot see why smith gets as much as he does when he is out two or three days in the week, and smith cannot see why he has not been made an executive after all the years he has worked in the place. there are many sides to the matter of salary adjustment and they all have to be taken into consideration. and the petty jealousies that employees arouse by matching salaries against one another only serve to make a complex problem more difficult. there is only one base upon which a man should rest his plea for an increase in salary, and that is good work. the fact that he has a family dependent upon him, that he is ill or hard up may be ample reason for giving him financial help or offering him a loan, but it is no reason why his salary should be increased unless his work deserves it. paternalism is more unfair than most systems of reward, and the man who comes whimpering with a tale of hard luck is usually (but not always) not worth coddling. years of experience, even though they stretch out to three score and ten, are not in themselves sufficient argument for promotion. sometimes the mere fact that a man has been content to stay in one place year after year shows that he has too little initiative to rise in that particular kind of work and is too timid to try something else. another big cause of trouble among men working in the same organization is rigid class distinction. when a man hires others to work _for_ him he invites discontent; when he hires them to work _with_ him there may be dissatisfaction, but the chances of it are lessened. a business well knit together is like any other group, an army or a football team, bound into a unit to achieve a result. at its best each person in it feels a responsibility toward each one of the others; each realizes that who a man is is not half so important as what he does, and that ... the game is more than the player of the game and the ship is more than the crew, or, as another poet with a kiplingesque turn of mind and phrase has it, it is not the guns or armament or the money they can pay. it's the close coöperation that makes them win the day. it is not the individual or the army as a whole, but the everlastin' team work of every blooming soul. each man is directly responsible to his immediate superior. he should never, unless the circumstances are unusual, go over his head and he should never do so without letting him know. it should be impossible, and is, in a well-organized house, for men coming from the outside to appeal over a member of a firm. responsible men should be placed in the contact positions and their responsibility should be respected. salesmen are warned not to bother with the little fellow but to go straight to the head of a firm. like most general advice, it is dangerous to put into universal practice. the heads of most firms have men to take care of visitors, and in a good many instances, the salesman helps his cause by going to the proper subordinate in the first place. it is all very well to go to the head of a firm but to do it at the expense of the dignity of one of the smaller executives is doubtful business policy and doubtful ethics. "passing the buck" is a gentle vice practised in certain loosely hung together concerns. it is a strong temptation to shift the accountability for a mistake to the shoulders of the person on the step below, but it is to be remembered that temptations, like obstacles, are things to be overcome. the "buck," as has been pointed out, always passes down and not up, a fact which makes a detestable practice all the more odious. one of the first laws of knighthood was to defend the weak and to protect the poor and helpless; it still holds, though knighthood has passed out of existence; and the creature (he is not even good red herring) who blames some one else for a fault of his, or allows him to take the blame, is beneath contempt. when a mistake has been made and the responsibility fixed on the right person the penalty may be inflicted. if it is a scolding or a "bawling out" it should be done quietly. good managers do not shout their reprimands. they do not need to. the reproof for a fault is a matter between the offender and the "boss." no one else has any concern with it, and there is no reason why the instinct for gossip or the appetite for malicious reports on the part of the other employees should be satisfied. the world would be happier and business would be infinitely more harmonious if each person in it could realize that his chief aim in life should be to mind his own business or, at least, to let other people's alone. private secretaries and other people in more or less confidential positions are many times tempted to give away secret information, not so much for the benefit of the person to whom it is given as to show how much they themselves are trusted. nearly every one who holds a responsible business position receives items of information which are best not repeated, and if common sense does not teach him what should be kept private and what should be told, nothing will. it should not be necessary for the superior to preface each of his remarks with, "now, this must go no further." matters concerning salaries should always be confidential, and so should personal items such as health reports, character references, and so on, credit reports, blacklists, and other information of a similar nature. it is compiled for a definite purpose and for the use of a limited group of people. it is unethical to use it in any other way. the reason for dismissing a person from a business organization should be kept private, especially if it is something that reflects unfavorably on his character. but the reason should _always_ be given to the employee himself. he may not listen, and most of the men who have had experience in hiring and firing say that he will not, but that is his own responsibility. the employer has no right to let him go without letting him know why. and the employee should listen--it may not be his fault but he should check up honestly with himself and find out. the same thing that lost him this place may lose him another, and a good many times all that he can get out of being discharged is a purification of soul. it is a pity if he misses that. discharging a person is a serious matter, serious from both sides, and it is not a thing to be done lightly. most houses try to obviate it in so far as possible by hiring only the kind of people they want to keep. "our efforts toward efficiency" (we quote from one manager who is typical of thousands) "begin at the front door. we try to eliminate the unfit there. we do not employ any one who happens to come along. we try by means of an interview and references and psychological tests to get the very highest type of employee." no human test is perfect, however, and there are times, even in the best regulated houses, when it becomes necessary to dismiss persons who have shown themselves unfit. it is not always a disgrace to be discharged and it is not always a step downward. it may be because of business depression or it may be because the man is a square peg in a round hole. sometimes it is the only experience that will reduce a man's, especially a young man's, idea of his own importance to something like normal proportions, the only one that will clear his mind of the delusion that he is himself the only person who is keeping off the rocks the business for which he is working, in which case it is one of the best things that could have happened to him. a roll call of famous or successful men who were fired would take up several reams of paper, and it is a pretty rash personnel manager (not to say brutal and unfair) who will throw a man out like a rotten potato and declare that he is absolutely no good. besides, he does not know. all that he can be sure of is that the man was not qualified for the job he was holding. and he should think twice before giving a man a bad name even if he feels certain that he deserves it. at the same time he must protect himself and other business men from incompetent, weak, or vicious employees. if after his dismissal a man sends back to his former employer for a recommendation, the recommendation should be as favorable as possible without sacrificing the truth. when a man breaks his connection with a business house, whether he does so voluntarily or involuntarily, his departure should be pleasant, or at the least dignified. it is childish to take advantage of the fact that you are going away to tell all of the people you have grudges against how you feel about them, and it is worse than a mere breach of good manners to abuse the house that has asked you to leave. if it has done some one else an injustice, talk about that all you please, but on your own account be silent. even if the fault has been altogether with the house it does not help to call it names. self-respect should come to the rescue here. this is the time when it is right to be too proud to fight. for a long time it has been held bad ethics for the members of one trade or profession to speak disparagingly of their competitors, and we have grown accustomed to say that you can judge a man by the way he speaks of his rivals. this has limits, however, and in some instances a mistaken idea of loyalty to one's calling has led to the glossing over of certain evils which could have been cured much earlier if they had been made public. it is all very well to be generous and courteous toward one's competitors but the finest courtesy in any business consists of doing whatever tends to elevate the standard of that business. every man likes his business to be well thought of, and most businesses have organized for the promotion of a high standard of ethics as well as for the development of more efficient methods. notable among these, to mention one of the most recent ones, is the advertisers' association. there was a time when the whole profession was menaced by the swindlers who were exploiting fraudulent schemes by means of advertising in magazines and newspapers, but to-day no reputable periodical will accept an advertisement without investigating its source and most of them will back up the guarantee of the advertiser that his goods are what he represents them to be with a guarantee of their own. no publication which intends to keep alive can afford a reputation of dishonesty, and the efforts of the publishers toward cleaning up have been seconded by the association to such an extent that any person or corporation that issues a deceptive advertisement, whether or not there was intent to deceive, will be prosecuted and punished. there was a time when a man could do almost anything within the law in a commercial transaction and excuse himself by saying "business is business." happily this is no longer true. business men have not grown perfect but they have raised their standards of business morality as high as their standards of personal morality. they have learned that business and life are one, that our lives cannot--and this has a number of disadvantages--be separated into compartments like so many tightly corked bottles on a shelf. we have only one vessel and whatever goes into it colors what is already there. and it is significant to remember that muddy water poured into clean water will make it muddy, but that clean water poured into muddy water will not make it clean. it takes very little ink in a pail of milk to color the whole of it, but it takes an enormous amount of milk to have any effect on a bottle of ink. business men have also learned that the only way to build a business that will last is to lay its foundation on the golden rule, and many a man who might otherwise sidetrack the principles of integrity holds by them for this reason. "honesty," declared one of the most insufferable prigs america ever produced, "is the best policy." he was right. prigs usually are. it is only because they are so sure of it themselves that they irritate us. it is a fact, in spite of the difficulty diogenes had when he took up his lantern and set out to find an honest man, that most people like to pay their way as they go, and the business men who recognize this are the ones who come out on top. they do not say that the customer is always right nor that he is perfect, but they assume that he is honest and trust him until he has proved himself otherwise. the biggest mail order house in america never questions a check. as soon as an order is received they fill it and attend to the check afterward. their percentage of loss is extraordinarily small. distrust begets distrust, and the perversity of human nature is such that even an honest man will be tempted to cheat if he knows another suspects him of it. the converse is equally true. there are, of course, exceptions. but the only rule in the world to which there are no exceptions is that there is no rule that holds good under all conditions. part ii x "big business" in the preceding pages we have looked over the field of etiquette in business in a general way, and have come to the only conclusion possible, namely, that the basis of courtesy in business is common sense, and that whatever rules may be given must not be followed slavishly, but must simply be used as guide posts. in the pages which follow we shall go into detail and watch courtesy at work among certain groups and individuals. let us take, for example, a big concern which employs a thousand or more people. we shall begin with the president. _president of a big organization._ here is a man who bears a heavy responsibility. he has not only his own welfare to look after but that of the men and women who work _with_ (we like this word better than _for_) him. his first duty is to them. how can he best perform it? it is a matter of fact that few men rise to such positions who are not innately courteous. it is one of the qualities which enable them to rise. for this reason we shall take it for granted that the president needs no instructions. already he has learned the great value of courtesy. but this does not protect him always from discourtesy in other people. every man who holds a high position in a big organization is besieged with visitors, but no one so much as the president. he is a target for cranks and idlers and freaks as well as for earnest business men who want to help him or to get help from him. thousands during the course of a year come to call on him. if he saw them all he would have to turn over the presidency to some one else and devote himself to entertaining visitors. many of those who come ask for him when he is not at all the man they want to see, but they have been taught in the schools of salesmanship or they have read in a magazine that it never pays to bother with the little fellow, but that they should go straight to the top. every minute of the time of the president of a big company is valuable (all time is valuable, as far as that goes), and it must be protected from the people who have no right to infringe upon it. you would think that the vice-presidents and the managers and the various executives would be his best protection. they are not. it is the person who is placed at the front door to receive visitors. we shall consider him next. _the man at the door._ as a matter of fact, this person is usually a girl, many times a very young and irresponsible one, because great numbers of business men have not yet realized the importance of the position. a well-poised girl or a woman who has had wide experience in handling people can fill the place quite as efficiently as a man, and a great deal more so if the man has not been chosen because he has the quick sympathy and ready tact so necessary in taking care of the needs of a miscellaneous assortment of callers. in the house we are observing the person at the door is a young man who began as a messenger boy, and who, because he did what he was asked to do cheerfully instead of sullenly, with a "certainly, sir," and a smile instead of a "that's bob's business" and a frown, was made manager of the messengers, and then first assistant of the man at the door, and later, when that man was given another position, was promoted to his place. the job commands a good salary and offers chances of promotion. the young man likes it. a visitor comes, a young salesman, let us say, who has had little experience. this is only the second or third time he has tried to storm the doors of big business. he asks at once for the president. he does not give his card because the school where he learned his trade cautioned him against doing so. (he is perfectly correct, and he would have been equally correct if he had given it. the more formal style is to send in the card.) the man at the door sees at once what kind of man he has to deal with. "the president is busy," he answers--a safe remark always, because if he is not he should be; "maybe i can do something for you." the salesman explains that he has an attachment to increase efficiency of typewriters. he would like to show the president how it works. "oh, you don't want mr. president," the host answers. "you want mr. jones. he attends to all such things for us. will you be seated here in the reception room," motioning toward the door which is at one side of his desk, "while i find out if he is busy?" this concern is very conservative about buying new attachments and new machinery of any kind, but it is ever on the alert to discover means of increasing its output and saving its manpower. almost any new idea is worth a demonstration. if the man at the desk has an intelligent messenger boy--and he should have--he sends him in to mr. jones. the boy finds mr. jones busy. he will be free in about fifteen minutes and then will be glad to see the salesman. the man reports to the visitor and asks if he cares to wait. he does. the host offers him a magazine and asks him to make himself comfortable while he goes back to his desk to attend to the next visitor. this one also wants to see the president. "the president is in conference just now," the young man replies. "perhaps there is something i can do for you in the meanwhile if you will tell me what you want." "it's none of your business," he answers rudely. "i want the president." the chances are against a man of this sort. he may be a person the president wants to see, but the odds are ten to one that he is not. "i'm sorry but you cannot possibly see him now. he is busy." "when will he be free?" "it is hard to tell. these conferences sometimes last an hour or two, and i am sure he will not see you even then unless you tell him why you want to see him. he is a very busy man." the visitor sputters around a few minutes and it develops that he is selling insurance. the young man knows that the president will not see him under any circumstances. he is already heavily insured, as every wise man should be, and he cannot be bothered with agents who are trying to sell him larger policies. "i'm sorry," the young man repeats, "but i am sure there is no use in letting him waste your time. he is already carrying a heavy policy and he positively refuses to talk insurance with anyone, no matter who it is." this should be enough for the salesman. what the young man says is true. it would be a waste of his time as well as the president's. he does not care half so much for the salesman's time--there is no reason why he should--but notice how tactfully he tells him that the head of the organization has no time to spend with him. there is a certain rough type of salesman (we use the word salesman here in the broadest sense, as the salesmen themselves use it, to cover all the people who are trying to convince some one else that what they have is worth while whether it is an idea or a washing machine or a packet of drawings)--there is a certain rough type of salesman who tries to bluster his way through. he never lasts long as a salesman, though unfortunately he survives a good many years in various kinds of business. even he must not be turned away rudely. "i'm sorry," the young man says to a person of this sort, "but the president has given positive orders that he must not be disturbed this morning. he is engaged in a very important transaction." the next man who approaches the door has an authentic claim on the president. it would be as great a calamity to turn him away as it would be to let some of the others in. he presents his card and says that he has an appointment. a truly courteous man, whenever possible, arranges an appointment beforehand. the young man takes the card, waves toward the reception room, and asks him to be seated while he finds out if the president is busy. he telephones to the secretary of the president, tells him who is calling, and asks if the president is ready to see him. if the answer is affirmative he asks if he will see him in his office or out in the reception room. it is much easier to get rid of a visitor from the entrance hall or reception room than from an inside office. if he says that he will see him in the reception room the girl reports to the visitor that he will come in a few minutes, offers him a magazine, and asks him to make himself at home. if the president says that he will see the visitor in his office the young man sends one of the messenger boys to usher him through the building. now it may be that this man had no appointment with the president, but that he has used it as a pretext to break through. in this case, the secretary answers, after consulting his schedule, that the president has never heard of such a person and has no such appointment. a man of this sort is not worth a minute's consideration. he has shown himself dishonest at the outset with a petty contemptible dishonesty, and the temptation is to pitch him out on his head. but the young man says quietly: "his secretary says that the president has no appointment with you. i am afraid you have come to the wrong place. it must be some other mr. beacon." there is a note of finality in his voice which convinces the visitor that there is no use in going further. the next visitor is a woman who has come to have lunch with a friend of hers who works in the accounting department. "it is fifteen minutes before time for lunch," the young man answers. "i can call her now, of course, but if you would rather not disturb her, i'll tell her that you will wait for her in the reception room until she comes for you." the woman thanks him and agrees that it will be much better not to disturb her. the young man offers her a chair and a magazine and invites her to make herself comfortable. it grows monotonous in the telling for him to ask each of the visitors exactly the same questions (never exactly the same, of course) in the same cordial tone of voice and to tell them to make themselves comfortable in exactly the same way, but the means of attaining success in such a place lies in the fact that he greets each visitor as if he were the only one he had to attend to, and that he is, for the time being, at least, completely at the visitor's service. it is not so much what the young man says as the way he says it. "good morning" can be spoken in such a way that it is an insult. _the girl at the telephone._ it is nerve-racking to stand at the door to receive callers, but it is much more so to sit at the switchboard and receive messages. the only point of contact is through the voice, but it is remarkable how much of one's personality the voice expresses. if you are tired your voice shows it; if you are cross your voice tells it; if you are worried, your voice betrays it. it is possible for one (everyone) to cultivate a pleasing voice. the telephone companies have learned this, and there is no part of her equipment upon which they spend more time and effort than on the voice of the telephone girl. it is interesting to know that their very excellent motto, "the voice with the smile wins" did not spring into being without thought. on the early bulletins this clumsy phrase was printed: "a smiling voice facilitates service." the girl at the telephone, even though she receives a thousand calls a day, must answer each one pleasantly and patiently. some people call without a very clear idea of what they want, and the fact that business houses have so many different names for exactly the same job often makes it difficult for them to locate the person they are asking for, even when they are fairly sure who it is they want. "may i speak to your personnel manager?" comes the query over the wire to a girl who has never heard of a personnel manager. "i'm sorry, i did not quite hear you." the person at the other end repeats the word and the girl is sure she had it right the first time. "we have no personnel manager here. maybe there is some one else who would do. if you will tell me what you want----" "i want a job." "just a minute, please, i'll connect you with our employment manager." advertising engineers, executive secretaries, and many others are old jobs masquerading under new names. more business men complain of the girl at the telephone than of any other person in business. she must, under the handicap of distance, accomplish exactly what the man at the door does, and must do it as efficiently and as courteously. no matter how angry the one who is calling becomes, no matter how profane he may be, no matter what he says, she must not answer back, and she must not slam the receiver down while he is talking. perfect poise, an even temper, patience, and a pleasant voice under control--if she has these, and a vast number of the telephone girls have, she need not worry about the rules of courtesy. they will take care of themselves. the numbers that a girl in a business office has to call frequently she should have on a pad or card near the switchboard so that she will not have to look them up. many business men ask the girl at the board to give them blank and blank or smith and smith instead of giving her the numbers of the two concerns. she then has to look them up, quite a difficult task when one has the headpiece on and calls coming in and going out every minute. to stop to look up one number often delays several, and it is a duty which should never devolve upon the girl whose business it is to send the calls through. the man who is calling, or his secretary, if he has one, or a person near the switchboard stationed there for the purpose should look up the numbers and give them to the operator. an efficient girl at the telephone sends numbers through as quickly as is humanly possible, but even then she is often scolded by nervous and harassed men who expect more than can really be done. mr. hunter has called main . it is busy. he waits. hours pass. at least it seems so to him, and he grows impatient. "what's the matter with that number, miss fisher?" "i'm still trying, mr. hunter. i'll call you when they answer." the line continues busy. mr. hunter looks over the papers on his desk. his nervousness increases. he takes down the receiver again and asks what the trouble is. he does not get the number any more quickly this way, but it would be hard to convince him that he does not. the girl says quietly again that she is still trying. he clings to the receiver and in a few minutes she answers triumphantly, "here they are," and the connection is made. the telephone girl in a big concern (or a little one) is constantly annoyed with people who have the wrong number. when it happens ten or twelve times in the course of a day--fortunately it is not usually so often--it is hard for her to keep a grip on her temper and answer pleasantly, "this is not the number you want," but the snappish answer always makes a bad situation worse, and the loss of temper which causes it drains the energy of the person who makes it. it is not merely the voice with the smile that wins; it is the disposition and temperament to which such a voice is the index. _the secretary._ the next in the line of defense is the president's secretary. to him (and we use the masculine pronoun although this position, like a good many others, is often held by women even in the biggest organizations, where the responsibility attached to it is by no means small)--to him the president turns over the details of his day's work. he arranges the president's schedule and reminds him of the things he has forgotten and the things he is likely to forget. he receives all of his visitors by telephone first and many times disposes of their wants without having to connect them with the president at all. he receives many of the callers who are admitted by the man at the door and in the same way often takes care of them without disturbing the president. he knows more about the petty routine of the job than the president himself. he is accurate. he is responsible. he is patient. he is courteous. in order that he may be all these things it is necessary for the president to keep him well informed as to what he is doing and where he is going and what he is planning so that he can give intelligent answers to the people who come, so that he can keep things running smoothly when the president is away, so that he can answer without delay when the president asks whether he has a luncheon engagement on thursday, and what he did with the memorandum from the circulation manager, and who is handling the shipping sheets. men who have their minds on larger matters cannot keep all the details of their jobs in mind, but it is significant to know that most successful business men know with more than a fair degree of accuracy what these details amount to. some secretaries feel very superior to the men who employ them because they can remember the date on which the representatives of the gettem company called and the employers cannot. the author knows a chauffeur who drives for a famous new york surgeon who thinks himself a much better man than the surgeon because he can remember the numbers of the houses where his patients and his friends live and the surgeon cannot. the author also knows a messenger boy who thinks himself a much bigger man than one of the most successful brokers in wall street because the broker sometimes gives him the same message twice within fifteen minutes, the second time after it has already been delivered. the secretary comes to the office every morning neatly clad and on time. the hour at which his employer comes in has nothing to do with him. there is a definite time at which he is expected to be at his desk. he is there. he opens the letters on his desk--and those addressed to the president come first to him--and sorts them, throwing aside the worthless advertising matter, saving that which may be of some interest, marking the letters that are to be referred to various other members of the house, and placing them in the memorandum basket, piling into one heap those that he cannot answer without first consulting the president, and into another those which must be answered by the president personally. intimately personal letters often come mixed in with the rest of the mail. no man wants a secretary whom he cannot trust even with letters of this sort, but almost any secretary worth having will feel a certain amount of delicacy in opening them unless he is requested to do so. when these letters are from people who write often the secretary grows to recognize the handwriting from the outside of the envelope, and therefore does not need to open them. in other cases it is sometimes possible to distinguish a personal from a business letter. these should be handled according to the wishes of the man to whom they are directed. many business men turn practically everything--even the settlement of their family affairs--over to their secretaries. it is a personal matter, and the secretary's part in it is to carry out the wishes of his employer. by the time the mail is sorted the president has come in. he rings for his secretary, telephones for him, sends a messenger for him, or else goes to his desk himself and asks him to come in and take dictation. there is no special courtesy or discourtesy in any of these methods. it depends on how far apart the desks are, how busy he is, and a number of other things. he does not yell for his secretary to come in. he manages to get him there quietly. it is not necessary for him to rise when the secretary enters (even if the secretary is a woman) though he may do so (and it is a very gracious thing, especially if the secretary is a woman) but he should greet him (or her) with a pleasant "good-morning." the secretary takes his place in the comfortable chair that has been provided for him, with notebook and pencil in hand and at least one pencil in reserve. he waits for the president to begin, and listens closely so that he may transcribe as rapidly as he speaks. if he fails to understand he waits until they come to the end of a sentence before asking his employer to repeat. it is much better to do so then than to depend on puzzling it out later or coming back and asking him after he has forgotten what was said. telephone interruptions and others may come during the dictation but the secretary waits until he is dismissed or until the pile of letters has disappeared. when the president has finished it is the secretary's time to begin talking. he consults him about the various letters upon which he needs his advice and makes notations in shorthand on them. he reports on the various calls that have come in and the house memoranda. a good secretary reads and digests these before turning them over to his employer, and in most cases gives the gist of the memorandum instead of the memorandum itself. it saves time. the president's secretary usually has a secretary of his own, a woman, let us say, or a girl whose preliminary training has been good and whose record for the year and a half she has been with the company has been excellent. she comes to her desk on time every morning as fresh as a daisy and as inconspicuous. the relation that she bears to the president's secretary is much the same as the relation that he bears to the president. she gets the letters that are addressed to him and sorts them in the same way that he does those of the president. on days when he is absent she takes care of all of his work, in so far as she is able, as well as her own. her employer is considerate of her always. he does not make a practice of taking ten or fifteen minutes of her lunch hour or five or ten minutes overtime at the close of the day, but when there is a good reason why he should ask her to remain he does so, asking courteously if she would mind staying. if she is genuinely interested in her work--and this young lady is--she will stay, but if she has an even better reason why she should go she explains briefly that it is impossible to stay. he never imposes heavier burdens upon her than she can bear, but he does not hesitate to ask her to do whatever needs to be done, and he does it with a "please" and a "thank you," and not with a "see, here" and a "say, listen to me, now." she is a very pretty and attractive girl, but the man she is working for is a gentleman. to him she is his secretary, and if he were ever in danger of forgetting it she would be quick to remind him. she does not go around with a chip on her shoulder all the time, and she talks freely with the various men around the office just as she does with the women and girls, but it is in an impersonal way. she never permits intimate attentions from her immediate employer or any one else. _executives._ "executive" is a large, loose word which rolls smoothly off the tongue of far too many business men to-day. office boys begin to think in terms of it before they are out of knee trousers. "i could hold down the job," said a youngster who had hurt his hand and whose business was to carry a bag of mail from a suburban factory into new york, "if i could get some one to carry the bag." "i can do the work," say smart young men in the "infant twenties" (and many others--there is no age limit), "but i must have a man to look after the details." the way to an executive position is through details. work, plain hard work, is the foundation of every enduring job, and the executive who thinks he can do without it has a sharp reckoning day ahead. in most places the executives have worked their way up slowly, and at no time along the way have they had that large contempt for small jobs which characterizes so many young men in business. they have been perfectly willing to do whatever came to hand. but after all this is said, the fact remains that an executive is successful not so much because of his own ability as because of his power to recognize ability in other men. he is--and this is true of every executive from the president down--the servant of his people in much the same way that the president of the united states is the servant of the american people. this means that he must be readily accessible to them, and must listen as courteously to them as if they were important visitors from across the sea or somewhere else. many executives--and this was true especially during the war--have surrounded themselves with a tangle of red tape which has to be unwound every time an employee (or any one else) wants to get near enough to ask a question. this is absurd. sensible men destroy elaborate plans of management and find they get along better without them. the baldwin locomotive works, which has a hundred years of solid reputation behind it, has no management plans. "there is about the place an atmosphere of work, and work without frills or feathers," and this is essentially true of every business that is built to last. look at the organizations which, because of war conditions, rose into a prosperity they had never enjoyed before. most of them have collapsed, and the little men who rose with them (so many of them and so much too small for their jobs) have collapsed with them. in the big reliable concerns, and the small ones, too, the high executives are easily approached, especially by the members of the organization. in many of the open offices--and open offices have done much to create a feeling of comradeship among workers--the desk of the general manager is out on the floor with the desks of the rank and file of the employees with nothing to distinguish it from theirs except the fact that there is a bigger man behind it. a real man does not need a lot of elaborate decorations. they annoy him. there are two sides to this, however. visitors from the outside are not the only ones who are likely to waste the time of other people, and a busy man has to protect himself from indoor nuisances as well as those that drift in from the outside. some do it by means of secretaries, but a good executive needs no barrier at all between himself and his own men. they learn soon enough--we are speaking now of a good executive, remember--that there is no use in going to him unless there is some definite reason why they should, and that the more briefly and directly they present their problem the more likely they are to have it settled. when an executive receives a caller (or when any man in a business house receives a caller) he should _receive_ him and not merely tolerate him. a young advertising man who began several years ago had two very interesting experiences with two gruff executives in two different companies. both consented to see him, both kept on writing at their desks after he entered and gave him scant attention throughout the interview. apparently they were both successful business men. certainly they both held positions that would indicate it. yet both of them a few years later came to the young advertising man at different times looking for jobs. needless to say neither found a place with him, not because he held a grudge against them, but simply because he knew what kind of men they were and that they could not help in the kind of business he was trying to build. from the beginning of the interview the host should do all he can to make his visitor comfortable. you see a lot in certain magazines about setting the visitor at a disadvantage by giving him an awkward chair, making him face the light and grilling him with questions. it is pure nonsense. it is very gracious for a man to rise to greet a caller and extend his hand, especially if the caller is young and ill at ease. it is imperative if it is an old man or a woman. he should ask the visitor to be seated before he sits down himself. "well, young man, what can i do for you?" is hardly a polite way of opening an interview. the host should wait with a cordially receptive air until his guest begins, unless he is in a great hurry. then he frankly tells the caller so and asks him to make his business brief. interruptions come even in the midst of conversations with important visitors, but no visitor is so important as to permit neglect of one's employees. these should be met courteously and dispatched quickly. the host must always ask the pardon of the guest before turning to the telephone or to a messenger, and if the guest is an employee the rule is the same. at the conclusion of the interview the host rises and shakes hands with the departing visitor but does not necessarily go with him (or her) to the door or the elevator, as the case may be. this is an additional courtesy in which a busy man cannot always indulge. the essential part of every interview is that the visitor shall state what he wants, that the host shall give the best answer in his power, and then the sooner the visitor departs the better for all concerned. _the rank and file._ this is the largest group in every business. it is the one that fluctuates most. it is the one from which the discards are made. it is the one from which officers are chosen. it is the one in which the real growth of a business takes place. and by the same token it is the one, generally speaking, where there is most discourtesy. promotion depends upon the possession of this quality much more than people realize. many a man with actual ability to hold a high position is not given an opportunity to do so because the men who employ him realize that he would antagonize those who worked under him. there are among the body of employees in every concern (even the very best) discontented members. in most cases, indeed, in nearly all cases except where there is a chronic grudge against life which is not affected by external circumstances, these are weeded out, and those with habitual grudges are weeded out along with the others or else are kept in minor places. perhaps it would be more nearly correct to say they keep themselves there. sometimes a subordinate feels that he is unfairly treated by his immediate superior. he wishes to go to the man above him in authority. is it right for him to do so? it is an unwritten law that each worker shall be loyal to the head of his department. suppose the head does not deserve it? there are three courses open to the worker. he can leave the job and find another in a different organization. he can go to the head of the department and state the case to him. if this should fail he may appeal to the man above him, but _he should never go over the head of his own immediate superior without first telling him that he intends to do it_. this is an important rule. it holds whether one has a grievance to present or a suggestion. constructive plans should first be talked over with one's immediate superior, and with his approval carried to the next man, or he may carry them himself. if this superior is the sort of man with whom you are constantly at loggerheads, you had much better get out and get a place somewhere else. and if you find that continually you are in hot water with the men who have authority over you, you may be very sure that the fault is not altogether theirs. subordinates usually have an idea that the heads of their departments leave all of the work to them. well, as a matter of fact, they do leave a large part of it. if they did not they would have no excuse for having subordinates. the reward of good work is more work. this is less of a hardship than it sounds. sir james barrie once quoted dr. johnson's statement that doubtless the lord could have made a better fruit than the strawberry, but that he doubtless never did, and added to it that he doubtless could have created something that was more fun than hard work, but that he doubtless never did. the subway guards in new york city say that the rush which comes just before five o'clock (the closing time of most of the business houses) is as great as the one which comes just after. they call the persons in the former rush the clock watchers. they have left work about fifteen minutes early, and to-morrow morning--business experience has taught this--they will come in fifteen minutes late. for the most part these are the discontented workers who spend " per cent of their time in doing their job, and per cent in doing the boss." it has always been considered a breach of good manners to pull out one's watch and look at it in company. it is true in the office as well as in the drawing room. the clock watchers are impolite. it has also been considered a breach of good manners to hold a guest against his will against the conventional hour for his departure. the employers who habitually keep their employees after closing hours are equally impolite. it is a question of honor, too. time is money, and the time grafters, whether employers or employees, are dishonest. when one employee goes over to the desk of another it is not necessary for the second to rise. the first should wait until the one at the desk looks up before speaking unless he is so absorbed in his work that he does not glance up after a minute or two. then he should interrupt with "i beg your pardon." it makes no difference if one of the employees is a woman and the other is a man. work at an office can be seriously impeded if every time one person goes to the desk of another the other rises. so many times the whole conversation covers less time than it takes to get out of one's chair and sit back down again. in some places subordinates are required to stand when a superior speaks to them, but as a general thing it is not necessary. in such houses it is correct to play the game according to the general standard and to act according to the rules set down by the men who are in charge of affairs. there is no person so wretched or so poor or so miserable but that he can find other people who are more wretched, poorer, or more miserable. at the same time there is no person so superior, so wealthy, or gifted but that he can find other people who are more superior, more wealthy, and more gifted. it is a part of good manners to recognize superiority when one finds it. youngsters entering business can sit at the feet of the older men in the same business and learn a great deal. knowledge did not enter the world with the present generation any more than it will depart from it when the present generation dies. it is just as well for young people to realize this. age has much to teach them. experience has much to teach them, and so have men and women of extraordinary ability. "i have never met a man," says a teacher of business men, "from whom i could not learn something." all of us are born with the capacity to learn. it is those who develop it who amount to something. petty quarrels should be disregarded and grudges should be forgotten. this piece of advice is needed more by women in business than by men. men have learned--it has taken them several thousand years--to fight and shake hands. they have a happy way of forgetting their squabbles--this is a general truth--after a little while, and two men who were yesterday abusing one another with hot and angry words are to-day walking together down the hall smiling and talking as gently as you please. _the office boy._ if the office boy in a big business house where much of the work is done at a white-hot tension--the office boy in a busy wall street office during the peak of the day's rush, for example--could write his intimate impressions they would make good reading. the temper of the great american business man is an uncertain quantity. famous for good humor and generosity as a general thing, he is, for all that, at his worst moments the terror of the office boy's life. nervous, worried, tired, and exasperated, he is likely to "take it out" on the office boy if there is no one else at hand. there is no defense for such conduct--even the man who is guilty would not, the next day in his calmer moments, defend it. meantime, what shall the office boy do? a hot, tired man with papers fluttering over his desk, his telephone ringing, and three men waiting in line to talk to him about serious problems connected with the business, yells, "what do you want?" when the office boy comes to answer the bell. "you rang for me," the boy answers. "i rang half an hour ago," the man snaps. in reality he rang two minutes before. shall the office boy remind him of this? not if he values his job! of course it is unjust, but one of the first laws of discipline is to learn to be composed in the face of injustice, and the first law of courtesy for the office boy (and other employees would do just as well to follow) is: don't be too harsh with the boss! it is said that the grizzly bear, who is a very strict mother, often spanks her cubs when she herself has done something foolish. julia ellen rogers tells a story of an explorer who came suddenly upon a bear with two cubs. he was so frightened that he stood still for a minute or two before he could decide which way to run. meantime the bear, fully as frightened as he, turned and fled, spanking the two cubs at every jump in spite of the fact that each was already going as fast as its legs could carry it. "it was so unexpected," continues miss rogers, "and so funny to see those little bears look around reproachfully at their angry parent every time they felt the weight of her paw, helping them to hurry, that the man sat down and laughed until he cried." it was not funny to the cubs. cases in which the office boy is maltreated are exceptional, though cases in which he is misunderstood are not. most office boys have not one boss but many. there should always be one person from whom they receive their general orders and to whom they go with their troubles. (a youngster should have very few troubles to report. it is usually the worthless ones who report.) in most places the several office boys are stationed at a certain point, a desk or a table, with one of their number more or less in charge. the rule is that one person be always at the desk. all right. six office boys. five out on errands. one at the desk. the bell rings. the boy keeps his place. the bell rings again. the boy keeps his place. the bell rings a third time, long and insistently, but the youngster, with a steadfastness worthy of the boy who stood on the burning deck, still keeps his place. a second later an angry official bounces out and wants to know what on earth is the matter and declares that he will report the desk to the manager. meanwhile one of the missing five has returned, and the youngster who had held the place so long under fire takes the message from the man and delivers it. if the boy should see an opening--and most business men except those funny little executives puffed up with their own importance are ready enough to listen--he may explain how it happened, but if he has to enter a shouting contest it is best to stay silent. the law of business courtesy--no matter how far away from this a discussion goes it always swings back--is the golden rule. the subordinate who feels himself neglected by the men in positions above him might check himself by honestly asking himself how he appears to those beneath him. it is interesting to know that the one who complains most is usually the one who is haughtiest when he enters into conversation with the employees, who, he thinks, are not quite worth his notice. he feels blighted because the president does not stop to say "good-morning" in the hall, but it is beneath his dignity to say "good-morning" to the girl who collects his mail or "good-night" to the janitor who comes to dust his desk when the day's work is over. the means of attaining courtesy--and if you have it yourself you will find it in other people--is by watching your own actions. teach no one but yourself. worry about no one's behavior but your own. that is job enough for any one. xi in a department store let us now see courtesy at work in a big department store. mr. hopkins has taken a morning off to do a little shopping before he goes away on his summer vacation. he wants to buy two shirts, a trunk, a toy for his baby, and a present for his wife. he is not sure what he wants for the wife and baby. mr. hopkins does not like to shop. he remembers his last expedition. a haberdashery had sent him a cordial letter asking him to open an account. he did so, but one morning later when he went in to buy a waistcoat the rude and inefficient service he met disgusted him so that he has not been back since. he knew exactly what he wanted and asked for it. "oh, no," answered the smart young clerk. "you don't want that. people have not been wearing waistcoats like that for years. this is what you want," and he exhibited a different style altogether. it happened that mr. hopkins knew better than the clerk what he wanted, and the fact that people had not been wearing waistcoats like it made no difference to him. as a matter of fact, the only reason the clerk made the remark was that he did not have them in stock, and thought perhaps he could sell by substituting. there are other haberdasheries where the service is distinctly good, but mr. hopkins decides to go to a department store instead. haberdasheries, however excellent, do not carry toys for one's baby nor presents for one's wife. helpem's store has been warmly recommended. he will go there. it is his first visit. when he enters the door he is bewildered by an array of women's scarfs and gloves and perfume bottles, handkerchiefs and parasols, handbags, petticoats, knick-knacks, and whatnot. he almost loses courage and begins backing toward the door when he catches sight of a man in uniform standing near the entrance. he sees that this man is directing the tides of shoppers that are surging in, and approaches him. "where can i find the trunks?" "third floor. elevator in the rear," the man answers briefly (but not gruffly). people who have to answer thousands of questions must be brief. as he passes down the aisle mr. hopkins, who is very observant, notices that all of the girls--most of the clerks are girls--are dressed in a pleasant gray. this gives an agreeable uniform tone to a large establishment which would break up into jarring patches of color if each clerk were allowed to wear whatever color happened to strike her fancy. good idea, mr. hopkins thinks, very necessary where there are many, many clerks. he does not have much trouble getting the trunk. he knows pretty well what he wants, and the obliging salesman convinces him that the trunk will probably last forever by assuring him that an elephant could dance a jig on it and never make a dent. he asks mr. hopkins if he wants his name on it. mr. hopkins had not thought of it, but he does. no, upon second thought, he will have only his initials stenciled on in dull red, w. h. h. the trunk will be delivered in the afternoon and he goes away well satisfied. the shirts are somewhat more difficult. he is attached to a certain kind of collar and he likes madras shirts with little black stripes or figures in them. the man shows him white ones and wide striped ones and colored ones with the right collar, and he almost decides that the place does not keep madras shirts with little black figures in them, when he suddenly realizes that he was so intent on getting the collar that he forgot to say anything about the material or color. he begins again, tells the clerk exactly what he wants, and in a few minutes the proper shirts are before him and he is happy. while the clerk is folding them, he asks about ties. it is a good thing. mr. hopkins remembers that he has forgotten ties. they have great bargains in ties. he drifts over to the counter and presently has three lovely ones. one is red, and mr. hopkins resolves to be more careful than he was with the last red one. his wife burned it. he must keep this hidden. the ties remind him that he needs a bathrobe. an agreeable clerk sells him a dull figured bathrobe, comfortable and light for summer and guaranteed to wash, and tells him that a pajama sale is in progress about four counters away. when he has bought six pairs of pajamas he begins to think of the baby's present. toys are on the top floor. the girl there--a wise department store always chooses carefully for this place--is very helpful. she asks about the baby, how old he is, what toys he has, what toys he has asked for, and so on. mr. hopkins tells her, and after showing him several ingenious mechanical contrivances, she suggests a train with a real track to run on. mr. hopkins is delighted. the girl asks if the youngster likes to read. he does not, but he likes to be read to. "why don't you take him a book?" and in a few minutes he has the "just-so stories" tucked under his arm. as he leaves the girl smiles, "come back to see us," she says. all the clerks have said this. the clerk who sold the shirts said, while they stood waiting for the change, that he could depend on them. they would not shrink and the colors would not run. "we are here in the city," he continued (the store was in new york), "but we have our regular customers just as if we were in a small town. we don't try to make just one sale and get by with it. we want you to come back." the girl at the toy counter tells mr. hopkins that there is a woman downstairs who will help him select something for his wife. he goes back to the man in uniform to locate her and finds her in a secluded booth on the first floor. she asks several questions about whether he would like china or silver, furniture or linen, but mr. hopkins wants to give his wife something personal--something she can use or wear. he has been married several years but not long enough to know that this is a dangerous thing to do, but the woman is wise. she suggests a silk parasol, a kimono, or a dozen handkerchiefs. such a service as this is not possible except in very large shops, but in most places clerks are quick to respond with suggestions for gifts. there is a pleasure about buying them and selling them that does not go with ordinary transactions. when he buys a parasol the clerk suggests that they have a very large assortment of handbags, but mr. hopkins's day's work is done, and the clerk does not insist. none of the clerks in a good department store is insistent. they offer suggestions and stand ready to serve, but they do not try to impose their ideas or their goods upon the customers. mr. hopkins leaves well satisfied with himself and his purchases. he will come back. the trunk is delivered in the afternoon, not by the regular wagon, but by an express company. it is a busy season. mr. hopkins is still further delighted. these people keep their promises. and as he tips the man who brought it up--he had to climb three flights of stairs--the man gives him a card. "here's one of the boss's cards," he says, "in case you want any hauling done." without doubt the man has been instructed by the boss to distribute his cards, but he does it with such a grace that it seems to be on his own initiative. it rarely happens that a business man or woman can shop in the leisurely manner described above. most of their shopping has to be done during the half hour after lunch or during a frantic few minutes snatched at the beginning or the end of the day's work. one morning mr. hopkins had to leave home without a collar because he forgot to send the dirty ones to the laundry (his wife was away that week) and dashed into a little shop to get one on the way to the office. he would have felt like murdering a clerk who wanted to show him something nice in the way of gloves or mufflers, and he would have had a hard time to restrain himself from violence if the clerk had started in on a eulogy of a new shipment of english tweeds. an intelligent clerk can usually tell when his customer is in a tearing hurry. it is an unpropitious time to make suggestions. the clerk must see things from the customer's point of view. it is permissible to suggest something else in place of the thing he has asked for but it is not good manners to make fun of it or to insist upon a substitute. recently a woman wanted to buy a rug for her automobile. she knew just what she wanted, but the bright young clerk insisted that she wanted something else. she finally bought the rug, but it was in spite of the clerk rather than because of him. too many salesmen kill their sales by thinking and talking only of their product. the customer is not half so interested in that as he is in himself. good salesmanship relates the product to the customer, and does it in such a way that the customer is hardly aware of how it is done. xii a while with a traveling man _in a big city._ we will suppose that our traveling man has his headquarters in some big city--new york, chicago, san francisco, it does not matter--and that he has several calls to make before he goes out on the road. there are two kinds of salesmen, those who make only one sale to a customer and those who sell something that has to be renewed periodically. the first sell pianos, real estate, encyclopedias, and so on; the second sell raw materials and supplies. the salesman whom we are to follow is in the second group. he has--and so have most men who do this kind of selling--a regular routine that he follows, adding new names to the list and deleting old ones as seems expedient. at this particular time he has several old customers to visit and one or two new prospects to investigate before he leaves town. it is unnecessary for him to make arrangements beforehand to gain access to the old customers. they know him and they are always glad to see him. but if there is a chance that the customer may be out of town, or if it is during a busy season, he telephones ahead to make sure. he prefers indefinite to definite appointments, especially if he has to see two or three people during the course of a morning or an afternoon; that is, he would rather have an appointment to come some time between ten and eleven or between three and four than to have one for exactly half past ten or a quarter of three. it is impossible to tell how long interviews will last. sometimes when the salesman counts on staying an hour he is through in five minutes and sometimes when he thinks he can arrange things in fifteen minutes he finds himself strung up for half a day. the new prospects--there are three on this particular morning--he handles in different ways. to one he has a note of introduction from a mutual friend. to another he has written a letter stating why he wishes to call and asking when it will be convenient for him to do so. the third, whom he knows by reputation as a "hard customer" (in the slang sense of the word) who will have nothing to do with salesmen of any sort, he decides to approach directly, trusting to his own presence to get past the girl at the front door and whomsoever else stands between him and the man he wants to see. he does not write, because he knows that the man would tear up the letter and he does not telephone, because he knows that the man would not promise to see him and that if he were to call after such a telephone conversation his chances for success would be lessened. our salesman is careful with his appearance. he bathes and shaves every morning and takes special care that his linen is clean and that his shoes are polished. he does not ornament himself with a lot of jewelry, and the material of which his suit is made is plain. he presents, if you should see him on the street, the appearance of a clean, solid, healthy, progressive american citizen. he is poised but he is not aggressive. he is persistent but he is not obstinate. the best public speakers, it is said, never get over a sinking feeling of fear during the few minutes just before time for them to speak. it vanishes as soon as they get to their feet or a very few minutes afterward, and, strange as it may seem, it is this very fear that gives them their power on the platform. the fact that they have the dreadful feeling nerves them to strenuous effort, and it is this effort that makes the orator. in the same way the best salesmen are those who never get over the fear that perhaps they have not thought out the best way to handle the situation ahead of them. they forget the fear as they begin to talk to the prospect, but the fact that it is subconsciously present makes the difference between the real salesman and the "dub." did you ever get to the door of a house you were about to enter and then turn and walk around the block before you rang the bell? did you ever walk around the block six or eight times? so have we. especially on those wednesday and sunday evenings when we used to go calling. there are not many salesmen who have not had this experience and who have not, upon hearing that a prospect they dreaded was out, turned away from the door with a prayer of deep thanksgiving. all of which is by way of saying that selling is not an easy job. the salesman whose career we are following for a short time always has that little feeling of nervousness before an interview. it is deeper than ever when he approaches the "hard customer," and it is not lessened in the least degree when he finds a painted and marceled flapper at the door who looks at him without a word. (incidentally, she likes his looks.) he takes out his card and asks her to give it to mr. green and say that he is calling. "he won't see you," the girl says. "will you tell him, please, that i am here, all the same? wait a minute." he takes the card and scribbles on it, "i want only five minutes of your time," and hands it to the girl again. she carries it away and presently returns saying that mr. green is busy and cannot see him. "i knew he wouldn't," she adds. "he must be very busy," the salesman says. "when shall i be most likely to find him free?" "he's no busier now than usual," the girl responds. "he's smoking a cigar and looking out the window." "will you tell him, please, that i am coming back to-morrow at the same time?" the girl sees that he is very much in earnest. she respects him for his quiet persistence and because he has not tried to "kid" her. she would most likely have joined in heartily if he had, but he would never have got past her. she goes back into the office and returns with word that the salesman may come in if he will not take more than five minutes. he thanks the girl and goes into the office where the "hard customer" is seated. he does not rise, he does not say "good morning," and he does not take the cigar out of his mouth, but this does not disconcert the salesman. he wastes no time in preliminaries, but after a brief greeting, plunges at once into his proposition, stating the essential points clearly and in terms of this man's business. he knows what the customer needs pretty accurately for he has taken the trouble to find out. he is not broadcasting. he is using line radio, and everything he says is directed against a single mark. the prospect is interested. he puts the cigar aside. the salesman concludes. "i'm sorry," he says, "but my five minutes are up. will you let me come back some day when you are not so busy and tell you more about it?" "sit where you are," the other says, and begins firing questions. half an hour later the salesman pockets the order he wanted and makes ready to depart, feeling that he has found another friend. the "hard customer" is ashamed of his gruff reception and apologizes for it. "i've been so bothered with agents and drummers and traveling men that i've promised myself never to see another one as long as i live," he says. "i can well understand that," the salesman answers. "it is one of the hardest things we are up against, the fact that there are so many four-flushers out trying to sell things." he goes next to see the man with whom he has made an appointment by mail and finds that he has been called out of town on business. he talks with his secretary, who expresses a polite regret that they were unable to locate him in time to tell him that his visit would be of no use. he asks if there is some one else who can take charge of the matter, but the girl replies that all such things have to come before mr. thompson. he will not be back until next week, and by that time the salesman will be out on the road. "i'll have another representative of our house, mr. hamilton, call," he says. "he will write to find out when it will be convenient for him to come." the third man on his list is the one to whom he has the letter of introduction. this is one of his best prospects. that is why he took such pains to arm himself with the letter. he has no trouble getting inside. the man is very busy but he thrusts it completely aside for the moment. he does not have to say "be brief." our salesman has been in the game long enough to know that he must not be anything else. "frankly," he says at the end of the talk, "i am not interested. i have no doubt that what you say is true. in fact, i have heard of your firm before and know that its reputation is good. but i buy my material, and have for years, from hicks and hicks." "it is a good reliable concern," the salesman responds, "and there is no reason why you should desert them. they depend upon you as much as you do upon them. but if they happen to be short of something you want in a hurry, please remember that our product is as good as theirs. you can depend upon it with as much certainty." "thank you, i will," the prospect answers and the interview is over. did the salesman act wisely? would he have gained anything by proving that his house was superior to hicks and hicks? not if the customer was worth having. this salesman never forgets that his part of the job is to build up business for his own firm, and not to tear down business for other firms. as it stands, he has in this case established a feeling of good will for the house he represents, and has placed it in such a light that if the rival concern should be afflicted with a strike or a fire or any of a hundred or two disasters which might lessen or suspend its output, the customer will probably turn to the salesman's house. and if hicks and hicks should sell out or go into bankruptcy the salesman will have won for his own house a steady customer of great value. _in the sleeping car._ the wise traveling man--and our salesman is wise--always engages sleeping accommodations on the train in advance. this time he has the lower berth in no. . when he comes in to take his seat he finds that a woman has the upper berth in the same compartment. he is reading a newspaper and she is reading a magazine. he says nothing until toward evening, and then he offers to exchange places with her. she thanks him cordially, explains that she was late in securing a berth and that this was all she could get. she is very grateful and the transfer is made. he goes into the smoking car and meets there several men who are talking together. he joins them and the conversation runs along pleasantly enough until one of the number begins to retail dirty stories. some of the others try to switch him off to another subject but he is wound up and nothing short of a sledge hammer will stop him until he has run down. our salesman has a healthy loathing for this sort of thing. he has a good fund of stories himself--most traveling men have--and in the course of his journeyings he has heard many of the kind that the foul-minded man in the smoking car is retailing with such delight. he never retells stories of that nature, and he never, when he can avoid it, listens to them. he knows that he cannot stop the man, but after a little while he gets up quietly and leaves. another man follows him and the two stand on the rear platform of the train until time to go to bed. men who are traveling together often converse without knowing one another's names, and it is correct that they should. only a prig refuses to speak to a man on a train or a boat because he does not know his name. opening conversation with a stranger is not always easy, and should be avoided unless it comes about in a natural way. the stranger may not want to converse. it is correct for a man who wishes to talk to another first to introduce himself. "my name is hammond," he says, and the man to whom he says it responds by holding out his hand (this is the more gracious way, but he may omit this part of it, if he likes) and pronouncing his own name. the same rule holds when the travelers are women. our salesman goes to bed early. two men have the compartment across from his. they seem very much interested in each other, for they continue to talk after they have gone to bed. in order to make themselves heard they have almost to scream, and the raucous sound of their voices is much more disturbing than the sound of the wheels grinding against the rails. it is hard to sleep on a train even under favorable circumstances. our salesman has a strenuous day ahead of him--most of his days are strenuous--and the noise is keeping him awake. he could throw on his bathrobe, climb down and remonstrate with the two men across the way. it would be correct for him to do so, but it would hardly be expedient. people who are thoughtless enough to be noisy late at night are often rude enough to be very unpleasant when any one interferes. the salesman has no real authority over them, but the porter on duty at night is supposed to see that a certain amount of peace and quiet is maintained. the salesman rings the bell, and when the porter appears, asks him if he would mind begging the two men across the aisle to lower their voices. the porter has had years of experience. he has developed a soft, pleasant way of asking people to be quiet, and in a few minutes the car is still except for the inevitable sound of the train and the snoring of an old lady near the end of the car. this last cannot be helped. it must be endured, and our salesman composes himself into a deep slumber. dressing and undressing in a sleeping car are among the most difficult operations to perform gracefully. there are no rules. most men prefer staying in their berths to making the attempt in the crowded dressing rooms. some divide the process between the two, but no gentleman ever goes streaking down the aisle half-dressed. he is either fully clothed or else he is wrapped in a bathrobe or a dressing gown. when our salesman comes in to breakfast the next morning there is only one vacant place, a seat opposite a young woman at a table for two. he crosses over and sits down, first asking if he may do so. in well-managed dining cars and restaurants, the seating is taken care of by the head waiter. he never places a person at a table with some one else without asking permission of the one who is already seated. it is never permissible for a stranger to go to a table that is already taken if there is a vacant one available. the young lady bows and smiles. she has already sent in her order. they talk during the meal quite as if they had been introduced and had met by appointment instead of by accident. she does not introduce herself, nor does he introduce himself. when she has finished she asks the waiter for her bill. she pays it herself--our salesman has too much delicacy to offer to do so--and tips the waiter. then with a nod and a smile she is gone. this salesman is a chivalrous traveler. whenever there is an opportunity to render a service to a woman (or to any one else) he takes pleasure in doing it. he does not place women under financial obligation to him, however, and he is careful not to annoy them with attentions. he has many times found a taxi for a woman traveling alone or with children when they have had the same destination; he has helped women decipher time tables; he has carried bundles and suitcases and baskets and boxes for old ladies who have not yet learned in all their long, long lives that the way to travel is with as little, instead of with as much, baggage as possible; and he has helped young mothers establish themselves comfortably in place with their children. but he has never--and he has been traveling a good many years now--thrust himself upon a woman and he has never embarrassed one by his attentions. he does not "treat" the men whom he meets by accident during his travels. they often go in to meals together but each one settles his own bill, and when they come to the end of the journey they are without obligations toward one another. it is much pleasanter so. the salesman does not, as a rule, tip the porter until he leaves the train, and the amount that he gives then is according to what the porter has done for him. if he has been in the car a good many hours and if he has had to ask the porter for many things, such as bringing ice water at night, silencing objectionable travelers, bringing pillows and tables during the day, not to mention polishing his shoes and brushing his coat every morning, he is much more generous than if he had been on the car only a few hours and had not asked for any special service. unless the trip is long he never gives more than a dollar. twenty-five cents is the minimum. _by automobile._ from an economic point of view this problem has come to be almost as large as the railroad problem, and the part the automobile, including trucks and taxis, plays in business is growing larger and larger every year. motorists have a code of their own. they--when they do as they should--drive to the right in the united states, to the left in certain other countries. they take up no more of the road than is necessary, and they observe local traffic regulations scrupulously, not only because they will be fined if they do not but because it is impolite in rome to do other than the romans do. they hold out their hands to indicate that they are about to turn, they slow down at crossings, and they sound their horns as a warning signal but never for any other reason. it is often necessary for a man who is trying to sell a piece of property to take out to look at it the man who thinks he will buy it. needless to say, it is the former who pays for the trip. other business trips are arranged by groups, the benefit or pleasure which is to result to be shared among them. under such conditions it is wise (and polite) for them to divide expenses. these matters should be arranged ahead of time. if one is to furnish the machine, and one the gasoline, and another is to pay for the lunch, it should be understood at the outset. _in a small town._ the salesman is now completely out of the metropolitan district. he is in a small town like hundreds of others over the united states. the hotel is very good in itself, but compared with the one in the city, which he has just left, it is inconvenient. he has better judgment than to remind the people of this. instead, when he is talking to them--and he likes to talk with the people in the towns he is serving--he talks about what they have rather than what they have not and about what they can do in the future rather than what they have failed to do in the past. it is in this way that he discovers how he can best be useful to them. he likes to work at the quick pace set by the big cities but he knows it will not do here. he goes around to see mr. carter. mr. carter is glad to see him, but he has had a bad year. the crops have not been good, the banks have not been generous, his wife has been sick, and one of his children has broken a leg. the salesman listens sympathetically to this tale of woe, leads the conversation away from the bad year behind to the good year ahead, and in a little while they are eagerly discussing plans for business in the next month or so. the salesman shows how he can help, and convinces mr. carter that the best time to begin is right now and gets an order for supplies from him. it has taken the better part of the morning, and mr. carter asks him to go home with him to lunch. the salesman would prefer going back to the hotel, but he knows that it will give mr. carter great pleasure to have him--his invitation is unmistakably hearty--so he accepts. before he came the salesman had discovered, through consulting the directories and by talking with friends of his who knew the town, who were worth going to see and who were not. mr. carter he had learned was immensely worth while and that is why he was willing to spend so much time with him. no salesman can afford to stop and talk with everybody who can give him the inside story of why business is no good. this salesman always finds out as much as possible about a man before he goes to see him. he never leaps blindly ahead when there is any way to get a gleam of light first. once in south carolina he was anxious to get a large order from a wealthy old man who, he felt sure, would be a regular customer if he could once be persuaded to buy. the old man paid no attention to what he was saying until he mentioned the picture of a hunting dog that hung above the desk. the old man's eyes kindled. this was his hobby and he forgot all about business while he talked about hunting, and ended by asking the salesman to go home with him and spend the night. the salesman accepted gladly, and the next morning they went rabbit hunting instead of going back to the office. the salesman was out of practice in handling a gun but it was great fun, and the upshot of it all was that he "landed" the order he wanted. this method is pleasant but wasteful. the salesman never uses it except as a last resource. much of the success of this salesman (and of the others who are successful) lies in the fact that he can put himself so completely into the place of the man he is trying to sell. he talks in terms of that man's work, and he tries to sell only where he believes the sale will result in mutual satisfaction. he never says anything about serving humanity, but his life is shaped around this idea, which is, when all is said and done, the biggest idea that any of us can lay ourselves out to follow. he is working for a firm that he knows is honest--no self-respecting man will work for any other kind--and he wants its financial rating to stand solid. he does not sell to every man who wants to buy. he investigates his credit first, and if there is to be a delay while the investigation is under way he frankly tells the man so, and assures him that it is for his protection as well as for that of the house that is selling the goods. "it is a form we go through with every new customer," he says. "if we did not we'd find ourselves swamped with men who would not pay. and that would work hardship on those who do." every business man knows that this is the only way in which reliable business can be carried on. and it is reliable business that we are interested in. xiii tables for two or more a young banker from smithville is in new york. it is his first trip. you would like him if you could see him. tall, sun-burned, clean-cut, well-dressed, thoroughly alive and interested in everything. he is a bit confused by the city but he is determined to learn everything that it has to teach him. he does not hesitate to ask questions but he likes to find out without, whenever possible. he goes into the dining room of the great hotel where he is staying, and for the first time in his life is confronted with an array of silver on both sides of his plate. at home he always has a knife, fork, and spoon laid together at the right of his plate, by which you can see that he has not lived among people who place much emphasis on having food daintily or correctly served. he is not exactly prepared for this. when he left smithville he was thinking more of his business connections than of what he was going to eat, and how. he is embarrassed because, like every sanely balanced person, he likes to do things as they should be done, and not just blunder through them. there is no one he can ask except the waiter, and the waiter seems such a superior person that he is afraid to ask him (though it would have been perfectly correct for him to do so). he gets through the meal the best way he can and finds that when the ice cream is brought the only thing he has left to eat it with is a slender fork with a long handle and three very tiny prongs. he knows that he has tripped up somewhere along the line, but he asks the waiter to bring him a spoon (he should have asked for a fork) and goes ahead. the next day he is invited out to dinner with a man who has all of his life been accustomed to first-class hotels and restaurants and the dining tables of wealthy and cultured people. he is somewhat older than our young banker and he has had a great deal of experience in entertaining men who have come into the city from small towns. he is thoughtful, sympathetic, an excellent host. he leads the way into the dining room (though they stand together in such a way that it seems that neither is leading) and chooses a table. this nearly always means accepting the one the head waiter indicates, though it is quite correct for the host to suggest the table he would like to have. "does this suit you?" he asks the young banker before they sit down. it suits him exactly. he says as much. "now, what will you have to eat?" the waiter has given him a menu card, containing, so it seems to the young man, a million things that he might have. a dinner served in courses was something beyond his knowledge until the night before, and the dinner then was _table d'hôte_ instead of _à la carte_. he flounders through the card and is about ready to thrust it aside and say, "just bring me some ham and eggs" when his host sees his predicament. "blue points are usually good at this time of the year," he says. "shall we try them?" the young man has not the remotest idea what blue points are but he thinks it will be very delightful to try them. "what kind of soup do you like?" the host continues when the waiter has departed. "i see they have vegetable soup and consommé." the young man clutches at the familiar straw. he will have vegetable soup. throughout the meal the host makes comments and suggestions and guides his guest through to the end, and does it so graciously that the young man from smithville is not aware that he is doing it, and feels that it is all due to his own quick observation that he is getting along so well. no business man is a perfect host until he can accomplish this. our young man knows already that one should sit up at a table and not lean forward or lounge back, that he should not take large mouthfuls and that he should not snap at his food, that he should eat without noise and with great cleanliness. he knows that his napkin should be unfolded (it should be unfolded once and not spread out) and laid across his lap, not tucked into his collar or the top of his vest. he knows that he should not eat with his knife. he has never seen a finger bowl before but he has heard of them, so that when one is placed before him he knows that he should dip the ends of his fingers into it and dry them on his napkin. he has also heard that toothpicks are never used by gentlemen, at least in public, and he is not surprised when he does not see them. he has read somewhere that when a knife or a fork is dropped to the floor he should not pick it up himself but should allow the waiter to do so, and that the waiter should be allowed to clear away the damage when something is upset on the table. he knows that long apologies are out of order anywhere, and he is not likely to say anything more than "excuse me" or "i beg your pardon" if he should by a clumsy movement break a glass or overturn a plate of soup. but he does not know about the various knives and forks or about how courses are arranged, and he does not know about tips. it is correct for him to explain to his host, just as pip did when he was dining for the first time with herbert pocket, that he is unused to such things and beg him to give him a few hints as they go along. but it is less embarrassing to consult a book of etiquette about fundamentals and to pick up the other knowledge by close observation. he discovers--our young friend uses both methods--that knives are laid at the right of the plate in the order in which they are to be used, beginning at the outside, and that the spoons are laid just beyond the knives in the same order. the butter knife (which rarely appears at dinner time) is usually laid across the little bread plate at the left of the dinner plate. forks are placed at the left of the plate in the order in which they are to be used, except the oyster fork, which is laid across the knives or else is brought in with the oysters. the steel knife is for cutting meats. the flat fork with the short prongs is for salads. salads are always eaten with a fork. it is sometimes not very easy to do, but it is the only correct way. this is the general standard, but there are deviations from it. nothing but experience in dining--and a great deal of it--will teach one to know always what fork or what knife or what spoon to use when the table service is highly elaborate. the best policy for a stranger under such conditions is that of watchful and unobtrusive waiting. the dinners that business men choose for themselves are rarely divided into numerous courses. often they have only two: meat and vegetables, and dessert. the regular order for a six-course dinner is: first, an appetizer such as oyster cocktail, grapefruit, strawberries, or something of the sort, followed by soup, fish, meat and vegetables, salad, dessert, cheese and crackers. one or more of the courses is often omitted. the rule for tipping is universally the same: ten per cent of the bill. * * * * * suppose the cases had been reversed and the man from the city had been in smithville to take dinner with the young banker. he is not accustomed to seeing all of the food put on the table at one time, nor to having to use the same fork throughout the meal. but he is a gentleman. he adapts himself to their standard so readily that not one of the people at the table could tell but that he had always lived that way. the young banker is a gentleman, too. when his friends from the city come to visit him he gives them the best he has and does not apologize for it. he does not begin by saying, "i know you are used to having better things than this but i suppose you can stand it for one meal." he simply ushers his guest into the dining room as cordially and with as little affectation as if he were the paying teller of the smithville bank. no one need ever apologize when he has done or given his best. it is interesting to know that the standard of our young banker is growing higher and higher all the time. he likes to know how the people who have had time to make an art of dining do it and to adapt his ways to theirs whenever he can. * * * * * it is a grave mistake for a business man to feel that he must entertain another to the standard to which the second is accustomed. a poor man who finds himself under the necessity of entertaining a rich one should not feel that he must do it on a grand scale if he has been so entertained by a rich one. aside from the moral question involved the great game of bluff is too silly and vulgar a one for grown men to play. but business men play it and their wives join in. suppose mrs. davis, whose husband is an assistant of mr. burke, wishes to invite mrs. burke to her home to dinner. she and mr. davis have been formally entertained in the other home, and the dinner they had there was superintended by a butler and carefully manipulated by two maids. now mrs. davis has no maid, her china is very simple, and the food that she and her husband have, even when they entertain their friends, is plain and wholesome. should she, for the great occasion, hire more beautiful china and engage servants? should she draw on the savings bank for more delicate viands? to begin with, mr. burke knows exactly what salary mr. davis gets. he knows whether it will warrant such expenditure. will it make him feel like placing more responsibility on his assistant's shoulders to see him living beyond his means? is it not, after all, much better for people to meet face to face instead of hiding themselves behind masks? the masks are not pretty, and in most cases deceive only the persons who wear them. men who are friends in business often like their wives to be friends as well. it is many times possible to bring about a meeting at the home of a common friend, but when this is not convenient, one of the women may invite the other. if the invitation is to dinner, it is not correct for mr. gardner to invite mrs. shandon even if he knows her and his wife does not. the invitation should go from mrs. gardner and should be addressed to mr. and mrs. shandon. if the invitation is for tea, mrs. gardner simply invites mrs. shandon, and the nature of the invitation depends upon whether the affair is formal or informal. as to which of two women should proffer the first invitation there might be some discussion. usually it is the wife of the man whose position is superior, if they both work for the same concern. it frequently happens that a man whose position in business is high is married to a woman whose social standing is not of corresponding importance. perhaps such a man has a subordinate whose wife is a social leader. in this case which of the women should extend the first invitation? most women of eminent social rank realize and appreciate the fact thoroughly. the social leader knows that the other woman might be embarrassed and hesitant about inviting her to her home. if she does apprehend this it is only gracious for her to extend the first invitation herself. in small towns the rule is for the old residents to call upon the new, and the wife of a business man who has recently established himself in a community must wait until the women who live there have called upon her before she begins to entertain them. in large cities where it is impossible to know everyone this rule is practically disregarded, and business men invite one another and ask their wives to do the same according to the way convenience and chance make most natural. women whose husbands are longest in the employ of a firm, or whose husbands hold high positions, as a rule call first on the wives of newcomers or subordinates. it all comes to the same thing whether it is in a city or a small town or the country. those who are already established in the neighborhood or the business extend the right hand of welcome and good fellowship to those who are not. in order to bring their employees together socially most big houses now give various entertainments such as picnics, parties, dances, and banquets. they are in no way different from other entertainments of the same kind so far as the etiquette of behavior is concerned. formal dances and banquets in the evening require evening dress just the same, except with that very enormous group (to which most of us belong) who do not own evening dress. this does not mean that evening parties must be foregone by this group or that they should hire gala attire for the occasion, but simply that the men wear their business suits and the girls their "sunday" dresses. it is just as correct, it is just as much fun, and it is infinitely wiser than giving a dollar down and a dollar a week for a _décolleté_ gown or a swallow-tail outfit. xiv ladies first? most girls who are in business are there to earn a living. it is true that an increasing number of wealthy girls who are under no necessity to work but who want a definite place in the economic life of the world are entering business every year, but the great army of workers is made up of those who enter business because they are driven into it (driven, many of them, while they are yet very young), because it is the only way in which they can have their own money, or because it is the only way in which they can raise their standard of living. the majority of business girls come from the homes of parents in moderate circumstances. they have had advantages--a high-school or a college diploma, a certificate from a business school, travel, specialized training--and all these they have added to their business capital. in many instances the opportunities they have had have not been brilliant, but every opportunity, however small, carries with it the responsibility to make the best of it. upon these girls, since they outnumber the others and because they have had advantages (a high-school education is an enormous advantage if you are looking at it from the point of view of a person who wanted one but was not able to get it), rests the responsibility of setting the pace for others. and the standard of behavior for the business girl, whether she be rich or poor or in between, is the same. the wealthy girls who enter business deliberately are usually followed by the same sensible impulse that started them on their careers, and, as a rule, they conduct themselves with dignity and modesty. the wealthy girls who, through a turn of fortune have been forced into work and have gone unwillingly, are another matter. "the rudest girls we have," is the testimony of most people who have to deal with them. conventional social charm and poise they may have but they are without that finer sense of courtesy which makes them accept whatever fate gives them and make the best of it. the fading splendor of the days of plenty envelops them like a cloud--remember that we are speaking of the unwilling ones--they lose themselves in self-pity, and the great fun that comes from good work they miss entirely. many of the poor girls in business have never known anything but poverty, and their lives have been cast among people who have never known anything else. they have had no home training in the art of behavior (for the people at home did not know how to give it to them). no one has ever told them how to dress or act but there have never been lacking those to condemn them when they dressed foolishly or acted indiscreetly. "the silly little things," they say (and oh, how superior they are when they say it). employers agree, for, after all, it is true, and the silly little things hold their jobs until they are married, until they are fired, or (and this happens frequently) until they wake up, and then they are promoted to something better. we cannot expect girls like these, who have grown up without contact with the gentler side of life, to begin with a high standard of behavior, but we can (and do) expect them, once they have been brought into touch with better things, to raise their standard. it is no disgrace for a girl to begin in ignorance and squalor; the disgrace lies in staying there. first of all, the dress of the business girl. most of the ill-breeding in the world is due to ignorance. ignorance of the laws of beauty and taste causes one to make a display of finery, and over-dressing is a mark of vulgarity whether one can afford it or not. the girl does not live--we believe this is right--who does not love pretty clothes. but the average girl does not have money to spend lavishly for them. her salary, as a rule, is not princely, and there are often financial as well as moral obligations to the people at home. she cannot have sunday clothes and everyday clothes. she must combine the two with the emphasis on the latter. a few years ago it was almost impossible to accomplish this, but manufacturers have recognized her needs and are now making clothes especially for her--plain dresses in bright colors and dark dresses with a happy bit of trimming here and there, neat enough to pass the censorship of the strictest employer, pretty enough to please the most exacting young girl. a woman is no longer thought eccentric if she wears low heels. the modern flapper is too sensible for such nonsense as french heels for standing all day behind the counter. manufacturers have discovered this also, and are making shoes with low heels and broad toes quite as pleasing as the french monstrosities and infinitely more comfortable. a business girl--or any girl, for that matter--should take pains with her hands and her hair. coiffures that might be appropriate in a ball room are out of place in an office, and heavily jeweled hands, whether the jewels are real or imitation, are grotesquely unsuited to office work. (so are dirty ones.) hair that is glossy and tidy, hands that are clean and capable, dress that is trim and inconspicuous--add to these intelligence, willingness, good health, and good manners and there is not much left to be desired. certain positions expose girls to the temptation of dress more than others. she, for instance, who all day handles lovely garments or she who all day poses before long mirrors in exquisite gowns that other women are to wear--can one expect these girls to go merrily home at night to a hall bedroom with a one-burner gas jet and a mournful array of old furniture? they have a problem that the girl in a glue factory or a fish cannery does not have to meet--at least not in so concrete a form. at the same time they have an opportunity that these other girls do not have, and it rests with them whether the opportunity or the temptation gets the upper hand. positions in which girls are thrown into close contact with men expose them to temptation of another sort. it is in its most acute form when it brings a poor girl into more or less intimate association with a rich man. once, a very long time ago, a king married a beggar maid and they lived happily ever after. people have not stopped writing and talking about it yet, although it is many centuries since it happened. it is true that once in a very great while a girl marries her father's chauffeur or her brother's valet and finds later that she has acted wisely; but these are rare exceptions to the general rule, for the result usually is unhappiness. such marriages are always the occasion for big headlines in the paper, usually a double set of them, for, in most instances, the divorce follows within a year or so. it is a dangerous thing for a girl to receive attentions indiscriminately from men, especially those who drift across her horizon from the great world outside. it is dangerous (is it necessary to add that it is incorrect?) for a manicurist to accept presents from the millionaire whose hands she looks after. it is unwise for any girl to accept expensive gifts from a man who is not her fiancé. there are exceptions to this rule, as indeed to every other. at christmas or at the time a ceremony or an anniversary employers sometimes give their secretaries or another trusted employee a beautiful gift, and it is within the bounds of propriety for the employee to accept it. often when he has been away from the office for several weeks a man presents his secretary a gift to express his gratitude for the capable way in which she has managed affairs in his absence, and this gift the secretary is privileged to accept. gifts are seldom presented except where the association has been a long and highly satisfactory one. but the girl who goes to the theatre with a man about whom she knows nothing except that he has the price of the tickets is running a serious risk. she is violating one of the most rigid principles of etiquette and she is skating perilously out beyond the line marked off by common sense. nearly every man can, and does, if he is the right sort, present credentials before asking a girl if he may call or if he may escort her to a place of amusement. there are instances in romantic stories and in real life where a man and a maid have met without the help of a third party and have entered upon a charming friendship. they are rare, rarer in fact than in fiction. it is banal to say that a girl can usually tell. but she can, and if she has any doubt (and this is true of all her relations with men) she should have no doubt. she should stop where she is. where men and girls work together in the same building or in buildings near one another they often go to the same restaurant for lunch. it is natural that they should sometimes sit together at the same tables. it is correct for a man to sit at a table where there are already only girls (if the girls are willing), but it is not correct for a girl to sit at a table where there are already only men (however willing the men may be). in these mixed groups each person pays for his or her own lunch. it is not even necessary for the man, or the men, as the case may be, to offer to do so, and it is a distinct breach of the rules of etiquette for a girl to allow a man to pay for her lunch under such circumstances. the only time when it is correct for a man and a girl who are associated together in business to have lunch, with him the host and her the guest, is when the engagement is made ahead of time as for any other social affair. on such an occasion he should be as attentive as he would in any other circumstances, taking care of her wraps and placing her chair if the waiter is not at hand to do it, suggesting dishes he thinks perhaps she will like, and making himself as generally useful and agreeable as it is possible for him to be. a point about which considerable breath is wasted is whether a man should enter a restaurant with the girl following or whether he should allow her to lead the way. it makes no material difference one way or the other, but usually he permits her to go ahead and follows closely enough behind to open the doors for her and to receive whatever instructions the head waiter has to offer. if a man should enter a restaurant and find a girl whom he knows already seated he may join her if he thinks he will be not unwelcome, but this does not make it incumbent upon him to pay for her lunch. he may offer to do it, but it is a matter that rests with the girl. if she does not care to develop his acquaintance she should not permit it, but if the two are good friends or if she feels that he is a man she would like to know, she may give him her check to settle along with his own. a girl is herself the best judge of what to do under such conditions, and if common sense does not show her the way out etiquette will not help. women in business sometimes bring up perplexing questions and create awkward situations. suppose a man has asked a girl several times to a business-social lunch and she has accepted every time. it seems that she should, as a man would in the same position, make some return. if she works for a house where there is a dining room in which checks do not have to be settled at the end of every meal she may do so without the slightest difficulty, but if she is compelled to take him to a place where the check must be given to the waiter or paid at the desk before they leave, she must look out for a different way of managing things. business luncheons are usually paid for by the firm in whose interests they are brought about, and if the girl works for an organization where there are several men employed she may ask one of them to take her friend out to lunch. then, even if she is not present, her social duty is done. the easiest way out of such a predicament, it is superfluous to say, is never to get into it. a girl who enters business presumably accepts the same conditions that men have to meet. she has no right to expect special favors because she is a woman. she does get a certain amount of consideration, as indeed she should, but she is very foolish and childish if she feels resentful when a busy man fails to hold open a door for her to pass through, when he rushes into his office ahead of her, or when he cuts short an interview when she has said only half of what she had on her mind. much is said about the man who keeps his seat on a train while a woman stands. his defense rests upon two arguments, first, that his need is greater than hers (which is not true) and, second, that she does not appreciate it even when he does give it to her (which is not true either). unfortunately, there are as many rude women in the world--and this statement is not made carelessly--as there are rude men, and in almost half the cases where a man rises to give a woman his place the woman sits down without even a glance toward her benefactor, as if the act, which is no small sacrifice on the part of a tired man, were not worth noticing. every act of civility or thoughtfulness should be rewarded with at least a "thank you" and a good hearty one at that. old people, cripples, and invalids rarely fail to secure seats, however crowded a car may be. a man seldom offers his place to another man unless it is evident that the other, because of age, infirmity, or extreme fatigue is greatly in need of it. well-bred girls resign their seats to old men, but if they refuse to accept, the girls do not insist. at a reunion of confederate veterans several years ago a girl rose from her place on a street car to allow a feeble old man to sit down. he gripped the strap fiercely. "i ain't dead yet," he responded sturdily. one of the chief petty complaints brought against women is that they do not keep their places in line. some of them appear to have neither conscience nor compunction about dashing up to a ticket window ahead of twenty or thirty people who are waiting for their turn. men would do the same thing (so men themselves say) but they know very well that the other men in the line would make them regret it in short order. two or three minutes is all one can save by such methods and it is not worth it. even if it were more it would still not be worth it. when a woman breaks into a line it is quite permissible for the person behind her (whoever he or she may be) to say, "i beg your pardon, i was here first." this should be enough. sometimes there is an almost desperate reason why one should get to a window. many times everybody in the line has the same desperate reason for being in a hurry, but now and then in individual cases it is allowable for a woman (or a man) to ask for another person's place. _but only if there is a most urgent reason for it._ much of courtesy is made up of petty sacrifices, and most of the great sacrifices are only a larger form of courtesy. it all comes back to sir philip sidney's principle of "thy need is greater than mine," but it is only extraordinary circumstances which warrant one's saying, "my need is greater than thine." since the beginning of time, and before (if there was any before) women have done their share of the work of the world. formerly their part of it centered in the home but now that machinery has taken it out of the home they have come out of the home too, to stand in the fields and factories of industry by the side of their fathers and husbands and brothers. because they have recently been thrown into closer association in their hours of work than ever before there has sprung up a certain amount of strife between men and women, and a great deal is said about how superior men are to women and how superior women are to men. it is pure nonsense. if all the men in the world were put on one side of a scale and all the women on the other, the scale would probably stand perfectly still. the woman in business should never forget that she is a woman but she must remember that above all things she is a citizen, and that she herself has value and her work has value only as they contribute to her community and her community as it contributes to her country. courtesy is one of her strongest allies, this quality which, alone, can do nothing, but, united to the solid virtues that make character, can move mountains. we have said a good deal as we came along about courtesy toward oneself and other people, but perhaps the most valuable of all courtesies in business is politeness toward one's job. it is desirable for every woman to be pretty, well-dressed, and well-groomed, but it is much more desirable for the woman in business to be able to do capable and efficient work. she may be ornamental but she must be useful, and while she is at the office her chief concern should be with her job and not with herself. the end of business is accomplishment, and courtesy is valuable because it is a means of making accomplishment easy and pleasant. it is this that gives us the grace to accept whatever comes, if not gladly, at least bravely. it is a poor workman who quarrels with his tools (or with his job), so the proverb says, and there are two lines of mr. kipling's that might be added. he was speaking of a king, but in a democracy we are all kings: the wisest thing, we suppose, that a king can do for his land is the work that lies under his nose, with the tools that lie under his hand. and the lines are just as true when "girl" is substituted for "king" and the pronouns are changed accordingly. the end proofreading team, from scans provided by case western reserve university's preservation department routledge's manual of etiquette etiquette for ladies etiquette for gentlemen ball-room companion courtship & matrimony how to dress well how to carve toasts and sentiments george routledge and sons contents. etiquette for ladies. i. introductions ii. letters of introduction iii. visiting, morning calls, cards iv. conversation v. notes of invitation, &c. vi. the promenade vii. dress viii. morning and evening parties ix. the dinner-table x. the ball-room xi. staying at a friend's house--breakfast, luncheon, &c. xii. general hints * * * * * etiquette for gentlemen. i. introductions ii. letters of introduction iii. visiting, morning calls, cards, &c. iv. conversation v. notes of invitation, &c. vi. the promenade vii. dress viii. riding and driving ix. morning and evening parties x. the dinner-table xi. the ball-room xii. staying at a friend's house--breakfast, luncheon, &c. xiii. general hints * * * * * ball-room guide. i. how to organize a ball ii. ball-room toilette (ladies) " " (gentlemen) iii. etiquette of the ball-room iv. the quadrille v. the caledonians vi. the lancers vii. the double lancers viii. coulon's double quadrille ix. the polka x. the cellarius xi. the mazurka quadrille xii. the polka mazurka xiii. the redowa, or redova xiv. the schottische xv. the varsoviana, or varsovienne xvi. the gorlitza xvii. the valse à trois temps xviii. the valse à deux temps xix. the new valse xx. the galop xxi. the cotillon xxii. the spanish dance xxiii. the tempête xxiv. sir roger de coverley xxv. glossary of terms used in dancing * * * * * etiquette of courtship and matrimony. i.--first steps in courtship. advice to both parties at the outset introduction to the lady's family ii.--etiquette of courtship. restrictions imposed by etiquette what the lady should observe in early courtship what the suitor should observe etiquette as to presents the proposal mode of refusal when not approved conduct to be observed by a rejected suitor refusal by the lady's parents or guardians iii.--etiquette of an engagement. demeanour of the betrothed pair should a courtship be long or short? iv.--preliminary etiquette of a wedding. fixing the day how to be married: by banns, licence, &c. the trousseau duties to be attended to by the bridegroom who should be asked to the wedding bridesmaids and bridegroom's-men, duties of v.--etiquette of a wedding. costume of bride, bridesmaids, and bridegroom arrival at the church the marriage ceremonial registry of the marriage return home and wedding breakfast departure for the honeymoon vi.--etiquette after the wedding. wedding cards: modern practice of "no cards" reception and return of wedding visits vii. practical advice to a newly-married couple * * * * * how to dress well. i. introduction ii. taste in dress iii. fashion in dress iv. expense of dress v. accessories vi. a few words more * * * * * how to carve. hints on the dinner-table carving fish. turbot cod-fish salmon, &c. mackerel joints. haunch of venison or mutton saddle of mutton leg of mutton shoulder of mutton loin of mutton neck of mutton fore quarter of lamb sirloin of beef ribs of beef round of beef aitch-bone of beef rump or buttock of beef tongue calf's head loin of veal fillet of veal breast of veal knuckle of veal shoulder and neck of veal leg or hand of pork spare-rib of pork ham sucking pig poultry and game. goose turkey fowl duck wild duck pheasant grouse partridge woodcock or snipe pigeons small birds hare rabbit * * * * * toasts and sentiments. amatory bacchanalian comic conservative gastronomic english irish scotch liberal literary loyal masonic military naval religious sentimental sporting miscellaneous latin routledge's etiquette for ladies. * * * * * i.--introductions. to introduce persons who are mutually unknown is to undertake a serious responsibility, and to certify to each the respectability of the other. never undertake this responsibility without in the first place asking yourself whether the persons are likely to be agreeable to each other; nor, in the second place, without ascertaining whether it will be acceptable to both parties to become acquainted. always introduce the gentleman to the lady--never the lady to the gentleman. the chivalry of etiquette assumes that the lady is invariably the superior in right of her sex, and that the gentleman is honoured in the introduction. this rule is to be observed even when the social rank of the gentleman is higher than that of the lady. where the sexes are the same, always present the inferior to the superior. never present a gentleman to a lady without first asking her permission to do so. when you are introduced to a gentleman, never offer your hand. when introduced, persons limit their recognition of each other to a bow. on the continent, ladies never shake hands with gentlemen unless under circumstances of great intimacy. never introduce morning visitors who happen to encounter each other in your drawing-room, unless they are persons whom you have already obtained permission to make known to each other. visitors thus casually meeting in the house of a friend should converse with ease and freedom, as if they were acquainted. that they are both friends of the hostess is a sufficient guarantee of their respectability. to be silent and stiff on such an occasion would show much-ignorance and ill-breeding. persons who have met at the house of a mutual friend, without being introduced, should not bow if they afterwards meet elsewhere. a bow implies acquaintance; and persons who have not been introduced are not acquainted. if you are walking with one friend, and presently meet with, or are joined by, a third, do not commit the too frequent error of introducing them to each other. you have even less right to do so than if they encountered each other at your house during a morning call. there are some exceptions to the etiquette of introductions. at a ball, or evening party where there is dancing, the mistress of the house may introduce any gentleman to any lady without first asking the lady's permission. but she should first ascertain whether the lady is willing to dance; and this out of consideration for the gentleman, who may otherwise be refused. no man likes to be refused the hand of a lady, though it be only for a quadrille. a sister may present her brother, or a mother her son, without any kind of preliminary; but only when there is no inferiority on the part of her own family to that of the acquaintance. friends may introduce friends at the house of a mutual acquaintance; but, as a rule, it is better to be introduced by the mistress of the house. such an introduction carries more authority with it. introductions at evening parties are now almost wholly dispensed with. persons who meet at a friend's house are ostensibly upon an equality, and pay a bad compliment to the host by appearing suspicious and formal. some old-fashioned country hosts yet persevere in introducing each new comer to all the assembled guests. it is a custom that cannot be too soon abolished, and one that places the last unfortunate visitor in a singularly awkward position. all that she can do is to make a semicircular courtesy, like a concert singer before an audience, and bear the general gaze with as much composure as possible. if, when you enter a drawing-room, your name has been wrongly announced, or has passed unheard in the buzz of conversation, make your way at once to the mistress of the house, if you are a stranger, and introduce yourself by name. this should be done with the greatest simplicity, and your rank made as little of as possible. an introduction given at a ball for the mere purpose of conducting a lady through a dance does not give the gentleman any right to bow to her on a future occasion. if he commits this error, she may remember that she is not bound to see, or return, his salutation. * * * * * ii.--letters of introduction. do not lightly give or promise letters of introduction. always remember that when you give a letter of introduction you lay yourself under an obligation to the friend to whom it is addressed. if she lives in a great city, such as paris or london, you in a measure compel her to undergo the penalty of escorting the stranger to some of those places of public entertainment in which the capital abounds. if your friend be a married lady, and the mistress of a house, you put her to the expense of inviting the stranger to her table. we cannot be too cautious how we tax the time and purse of a friend, or weigh too seriously the question of mutual advantage in the introduction. always ask yourself whether the person introduced will be an acceptable acquaintance to the one to whom you present her; and whether the pleasure of knowing her will compensate for the time or money which it costs to entertain her. if the stranger is in any way unsuitable in habits or temperament, you inflict an annoyance on your friend instead of a pleasure. in questions of introduction never oblige one friend to the discomfort of another. those to whom letters of introduction have been given, should send them to the person to whom they are addressed, and enclose a card. never deliver a letter of introduction in person. it places you in the most undignified position imaginable, and compels you to wait while it is being read, like a servant who has been told to wait for an answer. there is also another reason why you should not be yourself the bearer of your introduction; i.e., you compel the other person to receive you, whether she chooses or not. it may be that she is sufficiently ill-bred to take no notice of the letter when sent, and in such case, if you presented yourself with it, she would most probably receive you with rudeness. it is, at all events, more polite on your part to give her the option, and, perhaps, more pleasant. if the receiver of the letter be a really well-bred person, she will call upon you or leave her card the next day, and you should return her attentions within the week. if, on the other hand, a stranger sends you a letter of introduction and her card, you are bound by the laws of politeness and hospitality, not only to call upon her the next day, but to follow up that attention with others. if you are in a position to do so, the most correct proceeding is to invite her to dine with you. should this not be within your power, you can probably escort her to some of the exhibitions, bazaars, or concerts of the season; any of which would be interesting to a foreigner or provincial visitor. in short, etiquette demands that you shall exert yourself to show kindness to the stranger, if only out of compliment to the friend who introduced her to you. if you invite her to dine with you, it is a better compliment to ask some others to meet her than to dine with her _tête-à-tête_. you are thereby giving her an opportunity of making other acquaintances, and are assisting your friend in still farther promoting the purpose for which she gave her the introduction to yourself. be careful at the same time only to ask such persons as she will feel are at least her own social equals. a letter of introduction should be given unsealed, not alone because your friend may wish to know what you have said of her, but also as a guarantee of your own good faith. as you should never give such a letter unless you can speak highly of the bearer, this rule of etiquette is easy to observe. by requesting your friend to fasten the envelope before forwarding the letter to its destination, you tacitly give her permission to inspect its contents. let your note-paper be of the best quality and the proper size. albert or queen's size is the best for these purposes. it has been well said that "attention to the punctilios of politeness is a proof at once of self-respect, and of respect for your friend." though irksome at first, these trifles soon cease to be matters for memory, and become things of mere habit. to the thoroughly well-bred they are a second nature. let no one neglect them who is desirous of pleasing in society; and, above all, let no one deem them unworthy of attention. they are precisely the trifles which do most to make social intercourse agreeable, and a knowledge of which distinguishes the gentlewoman from the _parvenue_. * * * * * iii.--visiting.--morning calls.--cards. a morning visit should be paid between the hours of two and four p.m., in winter, and two and five in summer. by observing this rule you avoid intruding before the luncheon is removed, and leave in sufficient time to allow the lady of the house an hour or two of leisure for her dinner toilette. be careful always to avoid luncheon hours when you pay morning visits. some ladies dine with their children at half-past one, and are consequently unprepared for the early reception of visitors. when you have once ascertained this to be the case, be careful never again to intrude at the same hour. a good memory for these trifles is one of the hall-marks of good breeding. visits of ceremony should be short. if even the conversation should have become animated, beware of letting your call exceed half-an-hour's length. it is always better to let your friends regret than desire your withdrawal. on returning visits of ceremony you may, without impoliteness, leave your card at the door without going in. do not fail, however, to inquire if the family be well. should there be daughters or sisters residing with the lady upon whom you call, you may turn down a corner of your card, to signify that the visit is paid to all. it is in better taste, however, to leave cards for each. unless when returning thanks for "kind inquiries," or announcing your arrival in, or departure from, town, it is not considered respectful to send round cards by a servant. leave-taking cards have p.p.c. (_pour prendre congé_) written in the corner. some use p.d.a. (_pour dire adieu_). it is not the fashion on the continent for unmarried ladies to affix any equivalent to the english "miss" to their visiting cards. _emilie dubois_, or _kätchen clauss_, is thought more simple and elegant than if preceded by _mademoiselle_ or _fraülein_. some english girls have of late adopted this good custom, and it would be well if it became general. autographic facsimiles for visiting cards are affectations in any persons but those who are personally remarkable for talent, and whose autographs, or facsimiles of them, would be prized as curiosities. a card bearing the autographic signature of agnes strickland or mary somerville, though only a lithographic facsimile, would have a certain interest; whereas the signature of jane smith would be not only valueless; but would make the owner ridiculous. visits of condolence are paid within the week after the event which occasions them. personal visits of this kind are made by relations and very intimate friends only. acquaintances should leave cards with narrow mourning borders. on the first occasion when you are received by the family after the death of one of its members, it is etiquette to wear slight mourning. umbrellas should invariably be left in the hall. never take favourite dogs into a drawing-room when you make a morning call. their feet may be dusty, or they may bark at the sight of strangers, or, being of too friendly a disposition, may take the liberty of lying on a lady's gown, or jumping on the sofas and easy chairs. where your friend has a favourite cat already established before the fire, a battle may ensue, and one or other of the pets be seriously hurt. besides, many persons have a constitutional antipathy to dogs, and others never allow their own to be seen in the sitting-rooms. for all or any of these reasons, a visitor has no right to inflict upon her friend the society of her dog as well as of herself. neither is it well for a mother to take young children with her when she pays morning visits; their presence, unless they are unusually well trained, can only be productive of anxiety to both yourself and your hostess. she, while striving to amuse them, or to appear interested in them, is secretly anxious for the fate of her album, or the ornaments on her _étagére_; while the mother is trembling lest her children should say or do something objectionable. if other visitors are announced, and you have already remained as long as courtesy requires, wait till they are seated, and then rise from your chair, take leave of your hostess, and bow politely to the newly arrived guests. you will, perhaps, be urged to remain, but, having once risen, it is best to go. there is always a certain air of _gaucherie_ in resuming your seat and repeating the ceremony of leave-taking. if you have occasion to look at your watch during a call, ask permission to do so, and apologise for it on the plea of other appointments. in receiving morning visitors, it is not necessary that the lady should lay aside the employment in which she may be engaged, particularly if it consists of light or ornamental needle-work. politeness, however, requires that music, drawing, or any occupation which would completely engross the attention, be at once abandoned. you need not advance to receive visitors when announced, unless they are persons to whom you are desirous of testifying particular attention. it is sufficient if a lady rises to receive her visitors, moves forward a single step to shake hands with them, and remains standing till they are seated. when your visitors rise to take leave you should rise also, and remain standing till they have quite left the room. do not accompany them to the door, but be careful to ring in good time, that the servant may be ready in the hall to let them out. a lady should dress well, but not too richly, when she pays a morning visit. if she has a carriage at command, she may dress more elegantly than if she were on foot. the question of morning and afternoon dress will be found fully treated in section vii. * * * * * iv.--conversation. there is no conversation so graceful, so varied, so sparkling, as that of an intellectual and cultivated woman. excellence in this particular is, indeed, one of the attributes of the sex, and should be cultivated by every gentlewoman who aspires to please in general society. in order to talk well, three conditions are indisputable, namely--tact, a good memory, and a fair education. remember that people take more interest in their own affairs than in anything else which you can name. if you wish your conversation to be thoroughly agreeable, lead a mother to talk of her children, a young lady of her last ball, an author of his forthcoming book, or an artist of his exhibition picture. having furnished the topic, you need only listen; and you are sure to be thought not only agreeable, but thoroughly sensible and well-informed. be careful, however, on the other hand, not always to make a point of talking to persons upon general matters relating to their professions. to show an interest in their immediate concerns is flattering; but to converse with them too much about their own arts looks as if you thought them ignorant of other topics. remember in conversation that a voice "gentle and low" is, above all other extraneous acquirements, "an excellent thing in woman." there is a certain distinct but subdued tone of voice which is peculiar to only well-bred persons. a loud voice is both disagreeable and vulgar. it is better to err by the use of too low than too loud a tone. remember that all "slang" is vulgar. it has become of late unfortunately prevalent, and we know many ladies who pride themselves on the saucy _chique_ with which they adopt certain americanisms, and other cant phrases of the day. such habits cannot be too severely reprehended. they lower the tone of society and the standard of thought. it is a great mistake to suppose that slang is in any way a substitute for wit. the use of proverbs is equally vulgar in conversation; and puns, unless they rise to the rank of witticisms, are to be scrupulously avoided. a lady-punster is a most unpleasing phenomenon, and we would advise no young woman, however witty she may be, to cultivate this kind of verbal talent. long arguments in general company, however entertaining to the disputants, are tiresome to the last degree to all others. you should always endeavour to prevent the conversation from dwelling too long upon one topic. religion is a topic which should never be introduced in society. it is the one subject on which persons are most likely to differ, and least able to preserve temper. never interrupt a person who is speaking. it has been aptly said that "if you interrupt a speaker in the middle of his sentence, you act almost as rudely as if, when walking with a companion, you were to thrust yourself before him, and stop his progress." to listen well is almost as great an art as to talk well. it is not enough _only_ to listen. you must endeavour to seem interested in the conversation of others. it is considered extremely ill-bred when two persons whisper in society, or converse in a language with which all present are not familiar. if you have private matters to discuss, you should appoint a proper time and place to do so, without paying others the ill compliment of excluding them from your conversation. if a foreigner be one of the guests at a small party, and does not understand english sufficiently to follow what is said, good breeding demands that the conversation shall be carried on in his own language. if at a dinner-party, the same rule applies to those at his end of the table. if upon the entrance of a visitor you carry on the thread of a previous conversation, you should briefly recapitulate to him what has been said before he arrived. do not be _always_ witty, even though you should be so happily gifted as to need the caution. to outshine others on every occasion is the surest road to unpopularity. always look, but never stare, at those with whom you converse. in order to meet the general needs of conversation in society, it is necessary that a gentlewoman should be acquainted with the current news and historical events of at least the last few years. never talk upon subjects of which you know nothing, unless it be for the purpose of acquiring information. many young ladies imagine that because they play a little, sing a little, draw a little, and frequent exhibitions and operas, they are qualified judges of art. no mistake is more egregious or universal. those who introduce anecdotes into their conversation are warned that these should invariably be "short, witty, eloquent, new, and not far-fetched." scandal is the least excusable of all conversational vulgarities. in conversing with a woman of rank, do not too frequently give her her title. only a lady's-maid interlards every sentence with "my lady," or "my lord." it is, however, well to show that you remember the station of your interlocutor by now and then introducing some such phrase as--"i think i have already mentioned to your grace"--or, "i believe, madam, you were observing--" a peer or baron may occasionally, as in an address, be styled "my lord," but a lady of equal rank must only be addressed as "madam." in general, however, a nobleman or lady of high rank should only be addressed as you would address any other gentleman or lady. the prince of wales himself is only styled "sir" in conversation, and the queen "madam." * * * * * v.--notes of invitation, &c. notes of invitation and acceptance are written in the third person and the simplest style. the old-fashioned preliminary of "presenting compliments" is discontinued by the most elegant letter writers. all notes of invitation are now issued in the name of the mistress of the house only, as follows:-- "mrs. norman requests the honour of sir george and lady thurlow's company at an evening party, on monday, th of june." others prefer the subjoined form, which is purchaseable ready printed upon either cards or note paper, with blanks for names or dates:-- "mrs. norman, "at home, "monday evening, june th inst." an "at home" is, however, considered somewhat less stately than an evening party, and partakes more of the character of a _conversazione_. the reply to a note of invitation should be couched as follows:-- "mr. berkeley has much pleasure in accepting mrs. norman's polite invitation for monday evening, june the th instant." never "avail" yourself of an invitation. above all, never speak or write of an invitation as "an invite." it is neither good breeding nor good english. notes of invitation and reply should be written on small paper of the best quality, and enclosed in envelopes to correspond. note paper of the most dainty and fastidious kind may be used by a lady with propriety and elegance, but only when she is writing to her friends and equals. business letters or letters to her tradespeople should be written on plain paper, and enclosed either in an adhesive envelope, or sealed with red wax. never omit the address and date from any letter, whether of business or friendship. letters in the first person addressed to strangers should begin with "sir," or "madam," and end with "i have the honour to be your very obedient servant." some object to this form of words from a mistaken sense of pride; but it is merely a form, and, rightly apprehended, evinces a "proud humility," which implies more condescension than a less formal phrase. at the end of your letter, at some little distance below your signature, and in the left corner of your paper, write the name of the person to whom your letter is addressed; as "lady dalhousie," or "edward munroe, esquire." it is more polite to write esquire at full length than to curtail it to esq. in writing to persons much your superior or inferior, use as few words as possible. in the former case, to take up much of a great man's time is to take a liberty; in the latter, to be diffuse is to be too familiar. it is only in familiar correspondence that long letters are permissible. in writing to a tradesman, begin your letter by addressing him by name, as-- "mr. jones,--sir." a letter thus begun may, with propriety, be ended with-- "sir, yours truly." letters to persons whom you meet frequently in society, without having arrived at intimacy, may commence with "dear madam," and end with "i am, dear madam, yours very truly." letters commencing "my dear madam," addressed to persons whom you appreciate, and with whom you are on friendly terms, may end with "i am, my dear madam, yours very faithfully," or "yours very sincerely." to be prompt in replying to a letter is to be polite. lady correspondents are too apt to over-emphasize in their letter-writing, and in general evince a sad disregard of the laws of punctuation. we would respectfully suggest that a comma is not designed to answer every purpose, and that the underlining of every second or third word adds nothing to the eloquence or clearness of a letter, however certain it may be to provoke an unflattering smile upon the lips of the reader. all letters must be prepaid. * * * * * vi.--the promenade. in england, a lady may accept the arm of a gentleman with whom she is walking, even though he be only an acquaintance. this is not the case either in america or on the continent. there a lady can take the arm of no gentleman who is not either her husband, lover, or near relative. if a lady has been making purchases during her walk, she may permit the gentleman who accompanies her to carry any small, parcel that she may have in her own hand; but she should not burthen him with more than one under any circumstances whatever. two ladies may without any impropriety take each one arm of a single cavalier; but one lady cannot, with either grace or the sanction of custom take the arms of two gentlemen at the same time. when a lady is walking with a gentleman in a park, or public garden, or through the rooms of an exhibition, and becomes fatigued, it is the gentleman's duty to find her a seat. if, however, as is very frequently the case, he is himself obliged to remain standing, the lady should make a point of rising as soon as she is sufficiently rested, and not abuse either the patience or politeness of her companion. it is the place of the lady to bow first, if she meets a gentleman of her acquaintance. when you meet friends or acquaintances in the streets, the exhibitions, or any public places, be careful not to pronounce their names so loudly as to attract the attention of bystanders. never call across the street, or attempt to carry on a dialogue in a public vehicle, unless your interlocutor occupies the seat beside your own. * * * * * vii.--dress. to dress well requires something more than a full purse and a pretty figure. it needs taste, good sense, and refinement. dress may almost be classed as one of the fine arts. it is certainly one of those arts, the cultivation of which is indispensable to any person moving in the upper or middle classes of society. very clever women are too frequently indifferent to the graces of the toilette; and women who wish to be thought clever affect indifference. in the one case it is an error, and in the other a folly. it is not enough that a gentlewoman should be clever, or well-educated, or well-born. to take her due place in society, she must be acquainted with all that this little book proposes to teach. she must, above all else, know how to enter a room, how to perform a graceful salutation, and how to dress. of these three important qualifications, the most important, because the most observed, is the latter. let your style of dress always be appropriate to the hour of the day. to dress too finely in the morning, or to be seen in a morning dress in the evening, is equally vulgar and out of place. light and inexpensive materials are fittest for morning wear; dark silk dresses for the promenade or carriage; and low dresses of rich or transparent stuffs for the dinner and ball. a young lady cannot dress with too much simplicity in the early part of the day. a morning dress of some simple material, and delicate whole colour, with collar and cuffs of spotless linen, is, perhaps, the most becoming and elegant of morning toilettes. never dress very richly or showily in the street. it attracts attention of no enviable kind, and is looked upon as a want of good breeding. in the carriage a lady may dress as elegantly as she pleases. with respect to ball-room toilette, its fashions are so variable, that statements which are true of it to-day, may be false a month hence. respecting no institution of modern society is it so difficult to pronounce half-a-dozen permanent rules. we may, perhaps, be permitted to suggest the following leading principles; but we do so with diffidence. rich colours harmonize with rich brunette complexions and dark hair. delicate colours are the most suitable for delicate and fragile styles of beauty. very young ladies are never so suitably attired as in white. ladies who dance should wear dresses of light and diaphanous materials, such as _tulle_, gauze, crape, net, &c., over coloured silk slips. silk dresses are not suitable for dancing. a married lady who dances only a few quadrilles may wear a _décolleté_ silk dress with propriety. very stout persons should never wear white. it has the effect of adding to the bulk of the figure. black and scarlet, or black and violet, are worn in mourning. a lady in deep mourning should not dance at all. however fashionable it may be to wear very long dresses, those ladies who go to a ball with the intention of dancing and enjoying the dance, should cause their dresses to be made short enough to clear the ground. we would ask them whether it is not better to accept this slight deviation from an absurd fashion, than to appear for three parts of the evening in a torn and pinned-up skirt? well-made shoes, whatever their colour or material, and faultless gloves, are indispensable to the effect of a ball-room toilette. much jewellery is out of place in a ball-room. beautiful flowers, whether natural or artificial, are the loveliest ornaments that a lady can wear on these occasions. at small dinner parties, low dresses are not so indispensable as they were held to be some years since. high dresses of transparent materials, and low bodices with capes of black lace, are considered sufficiently full dress on these occasions. at large dinners only the fullest dress is appropriate. very young ladies should wear but little jewellery. pearls are deemed most appropriate for the young and unmarried. let your jewellery be always the best of its kind. nothing is so vulgar, either in youth or age, as the use of false ornaments. there is as much propriety to be observed in the wearing of jewellery as in the wearing of dresses. diamonds, pearls, rubies, and all transparent precious stones belong to evening dress, and should on no account be worn before dinner. in the morning let your rings be of the more simple and massive kind; wear no bracelets; and limit your jewellery to a good brooch, gold chain, and watch. your diamonds and pearls would be as much out of place during the morning as a low dress, or a wreath. it is well to remember in the choice of jewellery that mere costliness is not always the test of value; and that an exquisite work of art, such as a fine cameo, or a natural rarity, such as a black pearl, is a more _distingué_ possession than a large brilliant which any rich and tasteless vulgarian can buy as easily as yourself. of all precious stones, the opal is one of the most lovely and least commonplace. no vulgar woman purchases an opal. she invariably prefers the more showy ruby, emerald, or sapphire. a true gentlewoman is always faultlessly neat. no richness of toilette in the afternoon, no diamonds in the evening, can atone for unbrushed hair, a soiled collar, or untidy slippers at breakfast. never be seen in the street without gloves; and never let your gloves be of any material that is not kid or calf. worsted or cotton gloves are unutterably vulgar. your gloves should fit to the last degree of perfection. in these days of public baths and universal progress, we trust that it is unnecessary to do more than hint at the necessity of the most fastidious personal cleanliness. the hair, the teeth, the nails, should be faultlessly kept; and a muslin dress that has been worn once too often, a dingy pocket-handkerchief, or a soiled pair of light gloves, are things to be scrupulously avoided by any young lady who is ambitious of preserving the exterior of a gentlewoman. remember that the make of your _corsage_ is of even greater importance than the make of your dress. no dressmaker can fit you well, or make your bodices in the manner most becoming to your figure, if the _corsage_ beneath be not of the best description. your boots and gloves should always be faultless. perfumes should be used only in the evening, and then in moderation. let your perfumes be of the most delicate and _recherché_ kind. nothing is more vulgar than a coarse ordinary scent; and of all coarse, ordinary scents, the most objectionable are musk and patchouli. finally, every lady should remember that to dress well is a duty which she owes to society; but that to make it her idol is to commit something worse than a folly. fashion is made for woman; not woman for fashion. * * * * * viii.--morning and evening parties. the morning party is a modern invention. it was unknown to our fathers and mothers, and even to ourselves till quite lately. a morning party is seldom given out of the season--that is to say, during any months except those of may, june, and july. it begins about two o'clock and ends about five, and the entertainment consists for the most part of conversation, music, and (if there be a garden) croquet, lawn billiards, archery, &c. "aunt sally" is now out of fashion. the refreshments are given in the form of a _déjeuner à la fourchette_. elegant morning dress, general good manners, and some acquaintance with the topics of the day and the games above named, are all the qualifications especially necessary to a lady at a morning party. an evening party begins about nine o'clock p.m., and ends about midnight, or somewhat later. good breeding neither demands that you should present yourself at the commencement, nor remain till the close of the evening. you come and go as may be most convenient to you, and by these means are at liberty, during the height of the season when evening parties are numerous, to present yourself at two or three houses during a single evening. when your name is announced, look for the lady of the house, and pay your respects to her before you even seem to see any other of your friends who may be in the room. at very large and fashionable receptions, the hostess is generally to be found near the door. should you, however, find yourself separated by a dense crowd of guests, you are at liberty to recognize those who are near you, and those whom you encounter as you make your way slowly through the throng. general salutations of the company are now wholly disused. in society a lady only recognizes her own friends and acquaintances. if you are at the house of a new acquaintance and find yourself among entire strangers, remember that by so meeting under one roof you are all in a certain sense made known to one another, and should, therefore, converse freely, as equals. to shrink away to a side-table and affect to be absorbed in some album or illustrated work; or, if you find one unlucky acquaintance in the room, to fasten upon her like a drowning man clinging to a spar, are _gaucheries_ which no shyness can excuse. if you possess any musical accomplishments, do not wait to be pressed and entreated by your hostess, but comply immediately when she pays you the compliment of inviting you to play or sing. remember, however, that only the lady of the house has the right to ask you. if others do so, you can put them off in some polite way; but must not comply till the hostess herself invites you. be scrupulous to observe silence when any of the company are playing or singing. remember that they are doing this for the amusement of the rest; and that to talk at such a time is as ill-bred as if you were to turn your back upon a person who was talking to you, and begin a conversation with some one else. if you are yourself the performer, bear in mind that in music, as in speech, "brevity is the soul of wit." two verses of a song, or four pages of a piece, are at all times enough to give pleasure. if your audience desire more they will ask for more; and it is infinitely more flattering to be encored than to receive the thanks of your hearers, not so much in gratitude for what you have given them, but in relief that you have left off. you should try to suit your music, like your conversation, to your company. a solo of beethoven's would be as much out of place in some circles as a comic song at a quakers' meeting. to those who only care for the light popularities of the season, give balfe and verdi, glover and julien. to connoisseurs, if you perform well enough to venture, give such music as will be likely to meet the exigencies of a fine taste. above all, attempt nothing that you cannot execute with ease and precision. if the party be of a small and social kind, and those games called by the french _les jeux innocents_ are proposed, do not object to join in them when invited. it maybe that they demand some slight exercise of wit and readiness, and that you do not feel yourself calculated to shine in them; but it is better to seem dull than disagreeable, and those who are obliging can always find some clever neighbour to assist them in the moment of need. impromptu charades are frequently organized at friendly parties. unless you have really some talent for acting and some readiness of speech, you should remember that you only put others out and expose your own inability by taking part in these entertainments. of course, if your help is really needed, and you would disoblige by refusing, you must do your best, and by doing it as quietly and coolly as possible, avoid being awkward or ridiculous. even though you may take no pleasure in cards, some knowledge of the etiquette and rules belonging to the games most in vogue is necessary to you in society. if a fourth hand is wanted at a rubber, or if the rest of the company sit down to a round game, you would be deemed guilty of an impoliteness if you refused to join. the games most commonly played in society are whist, loo, _vingt-et-un_, and speculation. whist requires four players.[a] a pack of cards being spread upon the table with their faces downwards, the four players draw for partners. those who draw the two highest cards and those who draw the two lowest become partners. the lowest of all claims the deal. married people should not play at the same table, unless where the party is so small that it cannot be avoided. this rule supposes nothing so disgraceful to any married couple as dishonest collusion; but persons who play regularly together cannot fail to know so much of each other's mode of acting, under given circumstances, that the chances no longer remain perfectly even in favour of their adversaries. never play for higher stakes than you can afford to lose without regret. cards should be resorted to for amusement only; for excitement, never. no well-bred person ever loses temper at the card-table. you have no right to sit down to the game unless you can bear a long run of ill-luck with perfect composure, and are prepared cheerfully to pass over any blunders that your partner may chance to make. if you are an indifferent player, make a point of saying so before you join a party at whist. if the others are fine players they will be infinitely more obliged to you for declining than accepting their invitation. in any case you have no right to spoil their pleasure by your bad play. never let even politeness induce you to play for very high stakes. etiquette is the minor morality of life; but it never should be allowed to outweigh the higher code of right and wrong. young ladies may decline to play at cards without being deemed guilty of impoliteness. no very young lady should appear at an evening party without an escort. in retiring from a crowded party it is unnecessary that you should seek out the hostess for the purpose of bidding her a formal good-night. by doing this you would, perhaps, remind others that it was getting late, and cause the party to break up. if you meet the lady of the house on your way to the drawing-room door, take your leave of her as unobtrusively as possible, and slip away without attracting the attention of her other guests. [footnote a: for a succinct guide to whist, loo, _vingt-et-un_, speculation, &c., &c., &c., see routledge's "card-player," by g.f. pardon, price _sixpence_.] * * * * * ix.--the dinner-table. to be acquainted with every detail of the etiquette pertaining to this subject is of the highest importance to every gentlewoman. ease, _savoir faire_, and good breeding are nowhere more indispensable than at the dinner-table, and the absence of them is nowhere more apparent. how to eat soup and what to do with a cherry-stone are weighty considerations when taken as the index of social status; and it is not too much to say, that a young woman who elected to take claret with her fish, or ate peas with her knife, would justly risk the punishment of being banished from good society. as this subject is one of the most important of which we have to treat, we may be pardoned for introducing an appropriate anecdote related by the french poet delille:-- delille and marmontel were dining together in the month of april, , and the conversation happened to turn upon dinner-table customs. marmontel observed how many little things a well-bred man was obliged to know, if he would avoid being ridiculous at the tables of his friends. "they are, indeed, innumerable," said delille; "and the most annoying fact of all is, that not all the wit and good sense in the world can help one to divine them untaught. a little while ago, for instance, the abbé cosson, who is professor of literature at the collège mazarin, was describing to me a grand dinner to which he had been invited at versailles, and to which he had sat down in the company of peers, princes, and marshals of france. "'i'll wager now,' said i, 'that you committed a hundred blunders in the etiquette of the table!' "'how so?' replied the abbé, somewhat nettled. 'what blunders could i make? it seems to me that i did precisely as others did.' "'and i, on the contrary, would stake my life that you did nothing as others did. but let us begin at the beginning, and see which is right. in the first place there was your table napkin--what did you do with that when you sat down at table?' "'what did i do with my table-napkin? why, i did like the rest of the guests: i shook it out of the folds, spread it before me, and fastened one corner to my button-hole.' "'very well, _mon cher_; you were the only person who did so. no one shakes, spreads, and fastens a table-napkin in that manner. you should have only laid it across your knees. what soup had you?' "'turtle.' "'and how did you eat it?' "'like every one else, i suppose. i took my spoon in one hand, and my fork in the other--' "'your fork! good heavens! none but a savage eats soup with a fork. but go on. what did you take next?' "'a boiled egg.' "'good; and what did you do with the shell?' "'not eat it, certainly. i left it, of course, in the egg-cup.' "'without breaking it through with your spoon?' "'without breaking it.' "'then, my dear fellow, permit me to tell you that no one eats an egg without breaking the shell and leaving the spoon standing in it. and after your egg?' "'i asked for some _bouilli_.' "'for _bouilli_! it is a term that no one uses. you should have asked for beef--never for _bouilli_. well, and after the _bouilli_?' "'i asked the abbé de radonvilliers for some fowl.' "'wretched man! fowl, indeed! you should have asked for chicken or capon. the word "fowl" is never heard out of the kitchen. but all this applies only to what you ate; tell me something of what you drank, and how you asked for it.' "'i asked for champagne and bordeaux from those who had the bottles before them.' "'know then, my good friend, that only a waiter, who has no time or breath to spare, asks for champagne or bordeaux. a gentleman asks for _vin de champagne_ and _vin de bordeaux_. and now inform me how you ate your bread?' "'undoubtedly like all the rest of the world. i cut it into small square pieces with my knife.' "'then let me tell you that no one cuts bread. you should always break it. let us go on to the coffee. how did you drink yours?' "'pshaw! at least i could make no mistake in that. it was boiling hot, so i poured it, a little at a time, in the saucer, and drank it as it cooled.' "'_eh bien_! then you assuredly acted as no other gentleman in the room. nothing can be more vulgar than to pour tea or coffee into a saucer. you should have waited till it cooled, and then have drunk it from the cup. and now you see, my dear cousin, that so far from doing precisely as others did, you acted in no one respect according to the laws prescribed by etiquette.'" an invitation to dine should be replied to immediately, and unequivocally accepted or declined. once accepted, nothing but an event of the last importance should cause you to fail in your engagement. to be exactly punctual is the strictest politeness on these occasions. if you are too early, you are in the way; if too late, you spoil the dinner, annoy the hostess, and are hated by the rest of the guests. some authorities are even of opinion that in the question of a dinner-party "never" is better than "late;" and one author has gone so far as to say, "if you do not reach the house till dinner is served, you had better retire, and send an apology, and not interrupt the harmony of the courses by awkward excuses and cold acceptance." when the party is assembled, the mistress or master of the house will point out to each gentleman the lady whom he is to conduct to table. the guests then go down according to precedence of rank. this order of precedence must be arranged by the host or hostess, as the guests are probably unacquainted, and cannot know each other's social rank. when the society is of a distinguished kind the hostess will do well to consult debrett or burke, before arranging her visitors. when rank is not in question, other claims to precedence must be considered. the lady who is the greatest stranger should be taken down by the master of the house, and the gentleman who is the greatest stranger should conduct the hostess. married ladies take precedence of single ladies, elder ladies of younger ones, and so forth. when dinner is announced, the host offers his arm to the lady of most distinction, invites the rest to follow by a few words or a bow, and leads the way. the lady of the house should then follow with the gentleman who is most entitled to that honour, and the visitors follow in the order that has been previously arranged. the lady of the house frequently remains, however, till the last, that she may see her guests go down in their prescribed order; but the plan is not a convenient one. it is much better that the hostess should be in her place as the guests enter the dining-room, in order that she may indicate their seats to them as they enter, and not find them all crowded together in uncertainty when she arrives. the number of guests at a dinner-party should always be determined by the size of the table. when the party is too small, conversation flags, and a general air of desolation pervades the table. when they are too many, every one is inconvenienced. a space of two feet should be allowed to each person. it is well to arrange a party in such wise that the number of ladies and gentlemen be equal. it requires some tact to distribute your guests so that each shall find himself with a neighbour to his taste; but as much of the success of a dinner will always depend on this matter, it is worth some consideration. if you have a wit, or a particularly good talker, among your visitors, it is well to place him near the centre of the table, where he can be heard and talked to by all. it is obviously a bad plan to place two such persons in close proximity. they extinguish each other. neither is it advisable to assign two neighbouring seats to two gentlemen of the same profession, as they are likely to fall into exclusive conversation and amuse no one but themselves. a little consideration of the politics, religious opinions, and tastes of his friends, will enable a judicious host to avoid many quicksands, and establish much pleasant intercourse on the occasion of a dinner-party. the lady of the house takes the head of the table. the gentleman who led her down to dinner occupies the seat on her right hand, and the gentleman next in order of precedence, that on her left. the master of the house takes the foot of the table. the lady whom he escorted sits on his right hand, and the lady next in order of precedence on his left. as soon as you are seated at table, remove your gloves, place your table-napkin across your knees, and remove the roll which you find probably within it to the left side of your plate. the soup should be placed on the table first. some old-fashioned persons still place soup and fish together; but "it is a custom more honoured in the breach than the observance." still more old-fashioned, and in still worse taste is it to ask your guests if they will take "soup or fish." they are as much separate courses as the fish and the meat; and all experienced diners take both. in any case, it is inhospitable to appear to force a choice upon a visitor, when that visitor, in all probability, will prefer to take his soup first and his fish afterwards. all well-ordered dinners begin with soup, whether in summer or winter. the lady of the house should help it, and send it round without asking each individual in turn. it is as much an understood thing as the bread beside each plate, and those who do not choose it are always at liberty to leave it untasted. in eating soup, remember always to take it from the side of the spoon, and to make no sound in doing so. if the servants do not go round with wine the gentlemen should help the ladies and themselves to sherry or sauterne immediately after the soup. you should never ask for a second supply of either soup or fish; it delays the next course, and keeps the table waiting. never offer to "assist" your neighbours to this or that dish. the word is inexpressibly vulgar--all the more vulgar for its affectation of elegance. "shall i send you some mutton?" or "may i help you to grouse?" is better chosen and better bred. as a general rule, it is better not to ask your guests if they will partake of the dishes; but to send the plates round, and let them accept or decline them as they please. at very large dinners it is sometimes customary to distribute little lists of the order of the dishes at intervals along the table. it must be confessed that this gives somewhat the air of a dinner at an hotel; but it has the advantage of enabling the visitors to select their fare, and, as "forewarned is forearmed," to keep a corner, as the children say, for their favourite dishes. as soon as you are helped, begin to eat; or, if the viands are too hot for your palate, take up your knife and fork and appear to begin. to wait for others is now not only old-fashioned, but ill-bred. never offer to pass on the plate to which you have been helped. this is a still more vulgar piece of politeness, and belongs to the manners of a hundred years ago. the lady of the house who sends your plate to you is the best judge of precedence at her own table. in helping soup, fish, or any other dish, remember that to overfill a plate is as bad as to supply it too scantily. silver fish-knives will now always be met with at the best tables; but where there are none, a piece of crust should be taken in the left hand, and the fork in the right. there is no exception to this rule in eating fish. we presume it is scarcely necessary to remind our fair reader that she is never, under any circumstances, to convey her knife to her mouth. peas are eaten with the fork; tarts, curry, and puddings of all kinds with the spoon. always help fish with a fish-slice, and tart and puddings with a spoon, or, if necessary, a spoon and fork. asparagus must be helped with the asparagus-tongs. in eating asparagus, it is well to observe what others do, and act accordingly. some very well-bred people eat it with the fingers; others cut off the heads, and convey them to the mouth upon the fork. it would be difficult to say which is the more correct. in eating stone fruit, such as cherries, damsons, &c., the same rule had better be observed. some put the stones out from the month into a spoon, and so convey them to the plate. others cover the lips with the hand, drop them unseen into the palm, and so deposit them on the side of the plate. in our own opinion, the last is the better way, as it effectually conceals the return of the stones, which is certainly the point of highest importance. of one thing we may be sure, and that is, that they must never be dropped from the mouth to the plate. in helping sauce, always pour it on the side of the plate. if the servants do not go round with the wine (which is by far the best custom), the gentlemen at a dinner-table should take upon themselves the office of helping those ladies who sit near them. young ladies seldom drink more than three glasses of wine at dinner; but married ladies, professional ladies, and those accustomed to society and habits of affluence, will habitually take five or even six, whether in their own homes or at the tables of their friends. the habit of taking wine with each other has almost wholly gone out of fashion. a gentleman may ask the lady whom he conducted down to dinner; or he may ask the lady of the house to take wine with him. but even these last remnants of the old custom are fast falling into disuse. unless you are a total abstainer, it is extremely uncivil to decline taking wine if you are invited to do so. in accepting, you have only to pour a little fresh wine into your glass, look at the person who invited you, bow slightly, and take a sip from the glass. it is particularly ill-bred to empty your glass on these occasions. certain wines are taken with certain dishes, by old-established custom--as sherry, or sauterne, with soup and fish; hock and claret with roast meat; punch with turtle; champagne with whitebait; port with venison; port, or burgundy, with game; sparkling wines between the roast and the confectionery; madeira with sweets; port with cheese; and for dessert, port, tokay, madeira, sherry, and claret. red wines should never be iced, even in summer. claret and burgundy should always be slightly warmed; claret-cup and champagne-cup should, of course, be iced. instead of cooling their wines in the ice-pail, some hosts have of late years introduced clear ice upon the table, broken up in small lumps, to be put inside the glasses. this is an innovation that cannot be too strictly reprehended or too soon abolished. melting ice can but weaken the quality and flavour of the wine. those who desire to drink _wine and water_ can ask for iced water if they choose; but it savours too much of economy on the part of a host to insinuate the ice inside the glasses of his guests when the wine could be more effectually iced outside the bottle. a silver knife and fork should be placed to each guest at dessert. it is wise never to partake of any dish without knowing of what ingredients it is composed. you can always ask the servant who hands it to you, and you thereby avoid all danger of having to commit the impoliteness of leaving it, and showing that you do not approve of it. never speak while you have anything in your mouth. be careful never to taste soups or puddings till you are sure they are sufficiently cool; as, by disregarding this caution, you may be compelled to swallow what is dangerously hot, or be driven to the unpardonable alternative of returning it to your plate. when eating or drinking, avoid every kind of audible testimony to the facts. finger-glasses, containing water slightly warmed and perfumed, are placed to each person at dessert. in these you may dip the tips of your fingers, wiping them afterwards on your table-napkin. if the finger-glass and doyley are placed on your dessert-plate, you should immediately remove the doyley to the left of your plate, and place the finger-glass upon it. by these means you leave the right for the wine-glasses. be careful to know the shapes of the various kinds of wine-glasses commonly in use, in order that you may never put forward one for another. high and narrow, and very broad and shallow glasses, are used for champagne; large, goblet-shaped glasses for burgundy and claret; ordinary wine-glasses for sherry and madeira; green glasses for hock; and somewhat large, bell-shaped glasses, for port. port, sherry, and madeira, are decanted. hocks and champagnes appear in their native bottles. claret and burgundy are handed round in a claret-jug. the servants leave the room when the dessert is on the table. coffee and liqueurs should be handed round when the dessert has been about a quarter of an hour on the table. after this, the ladies generally retire. the lady of the house should never send away her plate, or appear to have done eating, till all her guests have finished. if you should unfortunately overturn or break anything, do not apologize for it. you can show your regret in your face, but it is not well-bred to put it into words. to abstain from taking the last piece on the dish, or the last glass of wine in the decanter, only because it is the last, is highly ill-bred. it implies a fear on your part that the vacancy cannot be supplied, and almost conveys an affront to your host. to those ladies who have houses and servants at command, we have one or two remarks to offer. every housekeeper should be acquainted with the routine of a dinner and the etiquette of a dinner-table. no lady should be utterly dependent on the taste and judgment of her cook. though she need not know how to dress a dish, she should be able to judge of it when served. the mistress of a house, in short, should be to her cook what a publisher is to his authors--that is to say, competent to form a judgment upon their works, though himself incapable of writing even a magazine article. if you wish to give a good dinner, and do not know in what manner to set about it, you will do wisely to order it from birch, kühn, or any other first-rate _restaurateur_. by these means you ensure the best cookery and a faultless _carte_. bear in mind that it is your duty to entertain your friends in the best manner that your means permit. this is the least you can do to recompense them for the expenditure of time and money which they incur in accepting your invitation. "to invite a friend to dinner," says brillat savarin, "is to become responsible for his happiness so long as he is under your roof." again:--"he who receives friends at his table, without having bestowed his personal supervision upon the repast placed before them, is unworthy to have friends." a dinner, to be excellent, need not consist of a great variety of dishes; but everything should be of the best, and the cookery should be perfect. that which should be cool should be cool as ice; that which should be hot should be smoking; the attendance should be rapid and noiseless; the guests well assorted; the wines of the best quality; the host attentive and courteous; the room well lighted; and the time punctual. every dinner should begin with soup, be followed by fish, and include some kind of game. "the soup is to the dinner," we are told by grisnod de la regnière, "what the portico is to a building, or the overture to an opera." to this aphorism we may be permitted to add that a _chasse_ of cognac or curaçoa at the close of the dinner is like the epilogue at the end of a comedy. never reprove or give directions to your servants before guests. if a dish is not placed precisely where you would have wished it to stand, or the order of a course is reversed, let the error pass unobserved by yourself, and you may depend that it will be unnoticed by others. if you are a mother, you will be wise never to let your children make their appearance at dessert when you entertain friends at dinner. children are out of place on these occasions. your guests only tolerate them through politeness; their presence interrupts the genial flow of after-dinner conversation; and you may rely upon it that, with the exception of yourself, and perhaps your husband, there is not a person at table who does not wish them in the nursery. the duties of hostess at a dinner-party are not onerous; but they demand tact and good breeding, grace of bearing, and self-possession in no ordinary degree. she does not often carve. she has no active duties to perform; but she must neglect nothing, forget nothing, put all her guests at their ease, encourage the timid, draw out the silent, and pay every possible attention to the requirements of each and all around her. no accident must ruffle her temper. no disappointment must embarrass her. she must see her old china broken without a sigh, and her best glass shattered with a smile. in short, to quote the language of a clever contemporary, she must have "the genius of tact to perceive, and the genius of finesse to execute; ease and frankness of manner; a knowledge of the world that nothing can surprise; a calmness of temper that nothing can disturb; and a kindness of disposition that can never be exhausted." * * * * * x.--the ball-room. as the number of guests at a dinner-party is regulated by the size of the table, so should the number of invitations to a ball be limited by the proportions of the ball-room. a prudent hostess will always invite a few more guests than she really desires to entertain, in the certainty that there will be some deserters when the appointed evening comes round; but she will at the same time remember that to overcrowd her room is to spoil the pleasure of those who love dancing, and that a party of this kind when too numerously attended is as great a failure as one at which too few are present. a room which is nearly square, yet a little longer than it is broad, will be found the most favourable for a ball. it admits of two quadrille parties, or two round dances, at the same time. in a perfectly square room this arrangement is not so practicable or pleasant. a very long and narrow room is obviously of the worst shape for the purpose of dancing, and is fit only for quadrilles and country dances. the top of the ball-room is the part nearest the orchestra. in a private room, the top is where it would be if the room were a dining-room. it is generally at the farthest point from the door. dancers should be careful to ascertain the top of the room before taking their places, as the top couples always lead the dances. a good floor is of the last importance in a ball-room. in a private house, nothing can be better than a smooth, well-stretched holland, with the carpet beneath. abundance of light and free ventilation are indispensable to the spirits and comfort of the dancers. good music is as necessary to the prosperity of a ball as good wine to the excellence of a dinner. no hostess should tax her friends for this part of the entertainment. it is the most injudicious economy imaginable. ladies who would prefer to dance are tied to the pianoforte; and as few amateurs have been trained in the art of playing dance music with that strict attention to time and accent which is absolutely necessary to the comfort of the dancers, a total and general discontent is sure to result. to play dance music thoroughly well is a branch of the art which requires considerable practice. it is as different from every other kind of playing as whale fishing is from fly fishing. those who give private balls will do well ever to bear this in mind, and to provide skilled musicians for the evening. for a small party, a piano and cornopean make a very pleasant combination. unless where several instruments are engaged, we do not recommend the introduction of the violin: although in some respects the finest of all solo instruments, it is apt to sound thin and shrill when employed on mere inexpressive dance tunes, and played by a mere dance player. invitations to a ball should be issued in the name of the lady of the house, and written on small note paper of the best quality. elegant printed forms, some of them printed in gold or silver, are to be had at every stationer's by those who prefer them. the paper may be gilt-edged, but not coloured. the sealing-wax used should be of some delicate hue. an invitation to a ball should be sent out at least ten days before the evening appointed. a fortnight, three weeks, and even a month may be allowed in the way of notice. not more than two or three days should be permitted to elapse before you reply to an invitation of this kind. the reply should always be addressed to the lady of the house, and should be couched in the same person as the invitation. the following are the forms generally in use:-- mrs. molyneux requests the honour of captain hamilton's company at an evening party, on monday, march the th instant. _dancing will begin at nine o'clock_. thursday, march st. * * * * * captain hamilton has much pleasure in accepting mrs. molyneux's polite invitation for monday evening, march the th instant. friday, march nd. the old form of "presenting compliments" is now out of fashion. the lady who gives a ball[a] should endeavour to secure an equal number of dancers of both sexes. many private parties are spoiled by the preponderance of young ladies, some of whom never get partners at all, unless they dance with each other. a room should in all cases be provided for the accommodation of the ladies. in this room there ought to be several looking-glasses; attendants to assist the fair visitors in the arrangement of their hair and dress; and some place in which the cloaks and shawls can be laid in order, and found at a moment's notice. it is well to affix tickets to the cloaks, giving a duplicate at the same time to each lady, as at the public theatres and concert-rooms. needles and thread should also be at hand, to repair any little accident incurred in dancing. another room should be devoted to refreshments, and kept amply supplied with coffee, lemonade, ices, wine, and biscuits during the evening. where this cannot be arranged, the refreshments should be handed round between the dances. the question of supper is one which so entirely depends on the means of those who give a ball or evening party, that very little can be said upon it in a treatise of this description. where money is no object, it is of course always preferable to have the whole supper, "with all appliances and means to boot," sent in from some first-rate house. it spares all trouble whether to the entertainers or their servants, and relieves the hostess of every anxiety. where circumstances render such a course imprudent, we would only observe that a home-provided supper, however simple, should be good of its kind, and abundant in quantity. dancers are generally hungry people, and feel themselves much aggrieved if the supply of sandwiches proves unequal to the demand. great inconvenience is often experienced through the difficulty of procuring cabs at the close of an evening party. gentlemen who have been dancing, and are unprepared for walking, object to go home on foot, or seek vehicles for their wives and daughters. female servants who have been in attendance upon the visitors during a whole evening ought not to be sent out. if even men-servants are kept, they may find it difficult to procure as many cabs as are necessary. the best thing that the giver of a private ball can do under these circumstances, is to engage a policeman with a lanthorn to attend on the pavement during the evening, and to give notice during the morning at a neighbouring cab-stand, so as to ensure a sufficient number of vehicles at the time when they are likely to be required. a ball generally begins about half-past nine or ten o'clock. to attempt to dance without a knowledge of dancing is not only to make one's self ridiculous, but one's partner also. no lady has a right to place a partner in this absurd position. never forget a ball-room engagement. to do so is to commit an unpardonable offence against good breeding. on entering the ball-room, the visitor should at once seek the lady of the house, and pay her respects to her. having done this, she may exchange salutations with such friends and acquaintances as may be in the room. no lady should accept an invitation to dance from a gentleman to whom she has not been introduced. in case any gentleman should commit the error of so inviting her, she should not excuse herself on the plea of a previous engagement, or of fatigue, as to do so would imply that she did not herself attach due importance to the necessary ceremony of introduction. her best reply would be to the effect that she would have much pleasure in accepting his invitation, if he would procure an introduction to her. this observation may be taken as applying only to public balls. at a private party the host and hostess are sufficient guarantees for the respectability of their guests; and although a gentleman would show a singular want of knowledge of the laws of society in acting as we have supposed, the lady who should reply to him as if he were merely an impertinent stranger in a public assembly-room would be implying an affront to her entertainers. the mere fact of being assembled together under the roof of a mutual friend is in itself a kind of general introduction of the guests to each other. an introduction given for the mere purpose of enabling a lady and gentleman to go through a dance together does not constitute an acquaintanceship. the lady is at liberty to pass the gentleman in the park the next day without recognition. it is not necessary that a lady should be acquainted with the _steps_, in order to walk gracefully and easily through a quadrille. an easy carriage and a knowledge of the figure is all that is requisite. a round dance, however, should on no account be attempted without a thorough knowledge of the steps, and some previous practice. no person who has not a good ear for time and tune need hope to dance well. no lady should accept refreshments from a stranger at a public ball; for she would thereby lay herself under a pecuniary obligation. for these she must rely on her father, brothers, or old friends. good taste forbids that a lady should dance too frequently with the same partner at either a public or private ball. engaged persons should be careful not to commit this conspicuous solecism. engagements for one dance should not be made while the present dance is yet in progress. never attempt to take a place in a dance which has been previously engaged. withdraw from a private ball-room as quietly as possible, so that your departure may not be observed by others, and cause the party to break up. if you meet the lady of the house on your way out, take your leave of her in such a manner that her other guests may not suppose you are doing so; but do not seek her out for that purpose. never be seen without gloves in a ball-room, though it were for only a few moments. ladies who dance much and are particularly _soigné_ in matters relating to the toilette, take a second pair of gloves to replace the first when soiled. a thoughtful hostess will never introduce a bad dancer to a good one, because she has no right to punish one friend in order to oblige another. it is not customary for married persons to dance together in society. [b] [footnote a: it will be understood that we use the word "ball" to signify a private party, where there is dancing, as well as a public ball.] [footnote b: for a more detailed account of the laws and business of the ball, see the chapter entitled "the ball-room guide."] * * * * * xi.--staying at a friend's house:--breakfast, luncheon, &c. a visitor is bound by the laws of social intercourse to conform in all respects to the habits of the house. in order to do this effectually, she should inquire, or cause her personal servant to inquire, what those habits are. to keep your friend's breakfast on the table till a late hour; to delay the dinner by want of punctuality; to accept other invitations, and treat his house as if it were merely an hotel to be slept in; or to keep the family up till unwonted hours, are alike evidences of a want of good feeling and good breeding. at breakfast and lunch absolute punctuality is not imperative; but a visitor should avoid being always the last to appear at table. no order of precedence is observed at either breakfast or luncheon. persons take their seats as they come in, and, having exchanged their morning salutations, begin to eat without waiting for the rest of the party. if letters are delivered to you at breakfast or luncheon, you may read them by asking permission from the lady who presides at the urn. always hold yourself at the disposal of those in whose house you are visiting. if they propose to ride, drive, walk, or otherwise occupy the day, you may take it for granted that these plans are made with reference to your enjoyment. you should, therefore, receive them with cheerfulness, enter into them with alacrity, and do your best to seem pleased, and be pleased, by the efforts which your friends make to entertain you. you should never take a book from the library to your own room without requesting permission to borrow it. when it is lent, you should take every care that it sustains no injury while in your possession, and should cover it, if necessary. a guest should endeavour to amuse herself as much as possible, and not be continually dependent on her hosts for entertainment. she should remember that, however welcome she may be, she is not always wanted. those who receive "staying visitors," as they are called, should remember that the truest hospitality is that which places the visitor most at her ease, and affords her the greatest opportunity for enjoyment. they should also remember that different persons have different ideas on the subject of enjoyment, and that the surest way of making a guest happy is to find out what gives her pleasure; not to impose that upon her which is pleasure to themselves. a visitor should avoid giving unnecessary trouble to the servants of the house, and should be liberal to them on leaving. the signal for retiring to rest is generally given by the appearance of the servant with wine, water, and biscuits, where a late dinner-hour is observed and suppers are not the custom. this is the last refreshment of the evening, and the visitor will do well to rise and wish good-night shortly after it has been partaken of by the family. * * * * * xii.--general hints. do not frequently repeat the name of the person with whom you are conversing. it implies either the extreme of _hauteur_ or familiarity. we have already cautioned you against the repetition of titles. deference can always be better expressed in the voice, manner, and countenance than in any forms of words. never speak of absent persons by only their christian or surnames; but always as mr. ---- or mrs. ----. above all, never name anybody by the first letter of his name. married people are sometimes guilty of this flagrant offence against taste. no lady should permit any gentleman who is not a near relative, or very old friend of her family, to defray the cost of her entrance fee to any theatre or exhibition, or to pay for her refreshments or vehicles when she happens to be out under his protection. if a person of greater age or higher rank than yourself desires you to step first into a carriage, or through a door, it is more polite to bow and obey than to decline. compliance with, and deference to, the wishes of others is the finest breeding. when you cannot agree with the propositions advanced in general conversation, be silent. if pressed for your opinion, give it with modesty. never defend your own views too warmly. when you find others remain unconvinced, drop the subject, or lead to some other topic. look at those who address you. never boast of your birth, your money, your grand friends, or anything that is yours. if you have travelled, do not introduce that information into your conversation at every opportunity. any one can travel with money and leisure. the real distinction is to come home with enlarged views, improved tastes, and a mind free from prejudice. if you present a book to a friend, do not write his or her name in it, unless requested. you have no right to presume that it will be rendered any the more valuable for that addition; and you ought not to conclude beforehand that your gift will be accepted. never undervalue the gift which you are yourself offering; you have no business to offer it if it is valueless. neither say that you do not want it yourself, or that you should throw it away if it were not accepted, &c., &c. such apologies would be insults if true, and mean nothing if false. no compliment that bears insincerity on the face of it is a compliment at all. unmarried ladies may not accept presents from gentlemen who are neither related nor engaged to them. presents made by a married lady to a gentleman can only be offered in the joint names of her husband and herself. married ladies may occasionally accept presents from gentlemen who visit frequently at their houses, and who desire to show their sense of the hospitality which they receive there. there is an art and propriety in the giving of presents which it requires a natural delicacy of disposition rightly to apprehend. you must not give too rich a gift, nor too poor a gift. you must not give to one much wealthier than yourself; and you must beware how you give to one much poorer, lest you offend her pride. you must never make a present with any expectation of a return; and you must not be too eager to make a return yourself, when you accept one. a gift must not be ostentatious, but it should be worth offering. on the other hand, mere costliness does not constitute the soul of a present. a gift should be precious for something better than its price. it may have been brought by the giver from some far or famous place; it may be unique in its workmanship; it may be valuable only from association with some great man or strange event. autographic papers, foreign curiosities, and the like, are elegant gifts. an author may offer his book, or a painter a sketch, with grace and propriety. offerings of flowers and game are unexceptionable, and may be made even to those whose position is superior to that of the giver. never refuse a present unless under very exceptional circumstances. however humble the giver, and however poor the gift, you should appreciate the goodwill and intention, and accept it with kindness and thanks. never say "i fear i rob you," or "i am really ashamed to take it," &c., &c. such deprecatory phrases imply that you think the bestower of the gift cannot spare or afford it. acknowledge the receipt of a present without delay. give a foreigner his name in full, as monsieur de vigny--never as _monsieur_ only. in speaking of him, give him his title, if he has one. foreign noblemen are addressed _viva voce_ as monsieur. in speaking of a foreign nobleman before his face, say monsieur le comte, or monsieur le marquis. in his absence, say monsieur le comte de vigny. converse with a foreigner in his own language. if not competent to do so, apologize, and beg permission to speak english. to get in and out of a carriage gracefully is a simple but important accomplishment. if there is but one step, and you are going to take your seat facing the horses, put your left foot on the step, and enter the carriage with your right, in such a manner as to drop at once into your seat. if you are about to sit with your back to the horses, reverse the process. as you step into the carriage, be careful to keep your back towards the seat you are about to occupy, so as to avoid the awkwardness of turning when you are once in. members of one family should not converse together in society. etiquette for gentlemen. * * * * * i.--introductions. to introduce persons who are mutually unknown is to undertake a serious responsibility, and to certify to each the respectability of the other. never undertake this responsibility without in the first place asking yourself whether the persons are likely to be agreeable to each other; nor, in the second place, without ascertaining whether it will be acceptable to both parties to become acquainted. always introduce the gentleman to the lady--never the lady to the gentleman. the chivalry of etiquette assumes that the lady is invariably the superior in right of her sex, and that the gentleman is honoured in the introduction. this rule is to be observed even when the social rank of the gentleman is higher than that of the lady. where the sexes are the same, always present the inferior to the superior. never present a gentleman to a lady without first asking her permission to do so. when you are introduced to a lady, never offer your hand. when introduced, persons limit their recognition of each other to a bow. on the continent, ladies never shake hands with gentlemen unless under circumstances of great intimacy. never introduce morning visitors who happen to encounter each other in your rooms, unless they are persons whom you have already obtained permission to make known to each other. visitors thus casually meeting in the house of a friend should converse with ease and freedom, as if they were acquainted. that they are both friends of the hostess is a sufficient guarantee of their respectability. to be silent and stiff on such an occasion would show much ignorance and ill-breeding. persons who have met at the house of a mutual friend without being introduced should not bow if they afterwards meet elsewhere. a bow implies acquaintance; and persons who have not been introduced are not acquainted. if you are walking with one friend, and presently meet with, or are joined by, a third, do not commit the too frequent error of introducing them to each other. you have even less right to do so than if they encountered each other at your house during a morning call. there are some exceptions to the etiquette of introductions. at a ball, or evening party where there is dancing, the mistress of the house may introduce any gentleman to any lady without first asking the lady's permission. but she should first ascertain whether the lady is willing to dance; and this out of consideration for the gentleman, who may otherwise be refused. no man likes to be refused the hand of a lady, though it be only for a quadrille. a brother may present his sister, or a father his son, without any kind of preliminary; but only when there is no inferiority on the part of his own family to that of the acquaintance. friends may introduce friends at the house of a mutual acquaintance; but, as a rule, it is better to be introduced by the mistress of the house. such an introduction carries more authority with it. introductions at evening parties are now almost wholly dispensed with. persons who meet at a friend's house are ostensibly upon an equality, and pay a bad compliment to the host by appearing suspicious and formal. some old-fashioned country hosts yet persevere in introducing each new comer to all the assembled guests. it is a custom that cannot be too soon abolished, and one that places the last unfortunate visitor in a singularly awkward position. all that he can do is to make a semicircular bow, like a concert singer before an audience, and bear the general gaze with as much composure as possible. if, when you enter a drawing-room, your name has been wrongly announced, or has passed unheard in the buzz of conversation, make your way at once to the mistress of the house, if you are a stranger, and introduce yourself by name. this should be done with the greatest simplicity, and your professional or titular rank made as little of as possible. an introduction given at a ball for the mere purpose of conducting a lady through a dance does not give the gentleman any right to bow to her on a future occasion. if he commits this error, he must remember that she is not bound to see, or return, his salutation. * * * * * ii.--letters of introduction. do not lightly give or promise letters of introduction. always remember that when you give a letter of introduction you lay yourself under an obligation to the friend to whom it is addressed. if he lives in a great city, such as paris or london, you in a measure compel him to undergo the penalty of escorting the stranger to some of those places of public entertainment in which the capital abounds. in any case, you put him to the expense of inviting the stranger to his table. we cannot be too cautious how we tax the time and purse of a friend, or weigh too seriously the question of mutual advantage in the introduction. always ask yourself whether the person introduced will be an acceptable acquaintance to the one to whom you present him; and whether the pleasure of knowing him will compensate for the time or money which it costs to entertain him. if the stranger is in any way unsuitable in habits or temperament, you inflict an annoyance on your friend instead of a pleasure. in questions of introduction never oblige one friend to the discomfort of another. those to whom letters of introduction have been given should send them to the person to whom they are addressed, and enclose a card. never deliver a letter of introduction in person. it places you in the most undignified position imaginable, and compels you to wait while it is being read, like a footman who has been told to wait for an answer. there is also another reason why you should not be yourself the bearer of your introduction; i.e., you compel the other person to receive you, whether he chooses or not. it may be that he is sufficiently ill-bred to take no notice of the letter when sent, and in such case, if you presented yourself with it, he would most probably receive you with rudeness. it is, at all events, more polite on your part to give him the option, and perhaps more pleasant. if the receiver of the letter be a really well-bred person, he will call upon you or leave his card the next day, and you should return his attentions within the week. if, on the other hand, a stranger sends you a letter of introduction and his card, you are bound by the laws of politeness and hospitality, not only to call upon him the next day, but to follow up that attention with others. if you are in a position to do so, the most correct proceeding is to invite him to dine with you. should this not be within your power, you have probably the _entrée_ to some private collections, clubhouses, theatres, or reading-rooms, and could devote a few hours to showing him these places. if you are but a clerk in a bank, remember that only to go over the bank of england would be interesting to a foreigner or provincial visitor. in short, etiquette demands that you shall exert yourself to show kindness to the stranger, if only out of compliment to the friend who introduced him to you. if you invite him to dine with you, it is a better compliment to ask some others to meet him, than to dine with him _tête-à-tête_. you are thereby giving him an opportunity of making other acquaintances, and are assisting your friend in still further promoting the purpose for which he gave him the introduction to yourself. be careful at the same time only to ask such persons as he will feel are at least his own social equals. a letter of introduction should be given unsealed, not alone because your friend may wish to know what you have said of him, but also as a guarantee of your own good faith. as you should never give such a letter unless you can speak highly of the bearer, this rule of etiquette is easy to observe. by requesting your friend to fasten the envelope before forwarding the letter to its destination, you tacitly give him permission to inspect its contents. let your note paper be of the best quality and the proper size. albert or queen's size is the best for these purposes. it has been well said that "attention to the punctilios of politeness is a proof at once of self-respect, and of respect for your friend." though irksome at first, these trifles soon cease to be matters for memory, and become things of mere habit. to the thoroughly well-bred, they are a second nature. let no one neglect them who is desirous of pleasing in society; and, above all, let no one deem them unworthy of a wise man's attention. they are precisely the trifles which do most to make social intercourse agreeable, and a knowledge of which distinguishes the gentleman from the boor. * * * * * iii.--visiting.--morning calls.--cards. a morning visit should be paid between the hours of two and four p.m., in winter, and two and five in summer. by observing this rule you avoid intruding before the luncheon is removed, and leave in sufficient time to allow the lady of the house an hour or two of leisure for her dinner toilette. be careful always to avoid luncheon hours when you pay morning visits. some ladies dine with their children at half-past one, and are consequently unprepared for the early reception of visitors. when you have once ascertained this to be the case, be careful never again to intrude at the same hour. a good memory for these trifles is one of the hall-marks of good breeding. visits of ceremony should be short. if even the conversation should have become animated, beware of letting your call exceed half-an-hour's length. it is always better to let your friends regret than desire your withdrawal. on returning visits of ceremony you may, without impoliteness, leave your card at the door without going in. do not fail, however, to inquire if the family be well. should there be daughters or sisters residing with the lady upon whom you call, you may turn down a corner of your card, to signify that the visit is paid to all. it is in better taste, however, to leave cards for each. unless when returning thanks for "kind inquiries," or announcing your arrival in, or departure from, town, it is not considered respectful to send round cards by a servant. leave-taking cards have p.p.c. _(pour prendre congé)_ written in the corner. some use p.d.a. _(pour dire adieu)_. it is not the fashion on the continent for gentlemen to affix _monsieur_ to their cards, _jules achard_, or _paolo beni_, looks more simple and elegant than if preceded by _monsieur_, or _monsieur le comte_. some english gentlemen have adopted this good custom, and it would be well if it became general. autographic facsimiles for visiting cards are affectations in any persons but those who are personally remarkable for talent and whose autographs, or facsimiles of them, would be prized as curiosities. a card bearing the autographic signature of charles dickens or george cruikshank, though only a lithographic facsimile, would have a certain interest; whereas the signature of john smith would be not only valueless, but would make the owner ridiculous. the visiting cards of gentlemen are half the size of those used by ladies. visits of condolence are paid within the week after the event which occasions them. personal visits of this kind are made by relations and very intimate friends only. acquaintances should leave cards with narrow mourning borders. on the first occasion when you are received by the family after the death of one of its members, it is etiquette to wear slight mourning. when a gentleman makes a morning call, he should never leave his hat or riding-whip in the hall, but should take both into the room. to do otherwise would be to make himself too much at home. the hat, however, must never be laid on a table, piano, or any article of furniture; it should be held gracefully in the hand. if you are compelled to lay it aside, put it on the floor. umbrellas should invariably be left in the hall. never take favourite dogs into a drawing-room when you make a morning call. their feet may be dusty, or they may bark at the sight of strangers, or, being of too friendly a disposition, may take the liberty of lying on a lady's gown, or jumping on the sofas and easy chairs. where your friend has a favourite cat already established before the fire, a battle may ensue, and one or other of the pets be seriously hurt. besides, many persons have a constitutional antipathy to dogs, and others never allow their own to be seen in the sitting-rooms. for all or any of these reasons, a visitor has no right to inflict upon his friend the society of his dog as well as of himself. if, when you call upon a lady, you meet a lady visitor in her drawing-room, you should rise when that lady takes her leave, and escort her to her carriage, taking care, however, to return again to the drawing-room, though it be only for a few minutes, before taking your own leave. not to do this would give you the appearance of accompanying the lady visitor; or might, at all events, look as if the society of your hostess were insufficient to entertain you when her friend had departed. if other visitors are announced, and you have already remained as long as courtesy requires, wait till they are seated, and then rise from your chair, take leave of your hostess, and bow politely to the newly arrived guests. you will, perhaps, be urged to remain, but, having once risen, it is always best to go. there is always a certain air of _gaucherie_ in resuming your seat and repeating the ceremony of leave-taking. if you have occasion to look at your watch during a call, ask permission to do so, and apologise for it on the plea of other appointments. * * * * * iv.--conversation. let your conversation be adapted as skilfully as may be to your company. some men make a point of talking commonplaces to all ladies alike, as if a woman could only be a trifler. others, on the contrary, seem to forget in what respects the education of a lady differs from that of a gentleman, and commit the opposite error of conversing on topics with which ladies are seldom acquainted. a woman of sense has as much right to be annoyed by the one, as a lady of ordinary education by the other. you cannot pay a finer compliment to a woman of refinement and _esprit_ than by leading the conversation into such a channel as may mark your appreciation of her superior attainments. in talking with ladies of ordinary education, avoid political, scientific, or commercial topics, and choose only such subjects as are likely to be of interest to them. remember that people take more interest in their own affairs than in anything else which you can name. if you wish your conversation to be thoroughly agreeable, lead a mother to talk of her children, a young lady of her last ball, an author of his forthcoming book, or an artist of his exhibition picture. having furnished the topic, you need only listen; and you are sure to be thought not only agreeable, but thoroughly sensible and well-informed. be careful, however, on the other hand, not always to make a point of talking to persons upon general matters relating to their professions. to show an interest in their immediate concerns is flattering; but to converse with them too much about their own arts looks as if you thought them ignorant of other topics. do not use a classical quotation in the presence of ladies without apologising for, or translating it. even this should only be done when no other phrase would so aptly express your meaning. whether in the presence of ladies or gentlemen, much display of learning is pedantic and out of place. there is a certain distinct but subdued tone of voice which is peculiar to only well-bred persons. a loud voice is both disagreeable and vulgar. it is better to err by the use of too low than too loud a tone. remember that all "slang" is vulgar. it has become of late unfortunately prevalent, and we have known even ladies pride themselves on the saucy _chique_ with which they adopt certain americanisms, and other cant phrases of the day. such habits cannot be too severely reprehended. they lower the tone of society and the standard of thought. it is a great mistake to suppose that slang is in any way a substitute for wit. the use of proverbs is equally vulgar in conversation; and puns, unless they rise to the rank of witticisms, are to be scrupulously avoided. there is no greater nuisance in society than a dull and persevering punster. long arguments in general company, however entertaining to the disputants, are tiresome to the last degree to all others. you should always endeavour to prevent the conversation from dwelling too long upon one topic. religion is a topic which should never be introduced in society. it is the one subject on which persons are most likely to differ, and least able to preserve temper. never interrupt a person who is speaking. it has been aptly said that "if you interrupt a speaker in the middle of his sentence, you act almost as rudely as if, when walking with a companion, you were to thrust yourself before him, and stop his progress." to listen well, is almost as great an art as to talk well. it is not enough _only_ to listen. you must endeavour to seem interested in the conversation of others. it is considered extremely ill-bred when two persons whisper in society, or converse in a language with which all present are not familiar. if you have private matters to discuss, you should appoint a proper time and place to do so, without paying others the ill compliment of excluding them from your conversation. if a foreigner be one of the guests at a small party, and does not understand english sufficiently to follow what is said, good-breeding demands that conversation shall be carried on in his own language. if at a dinner-party, the same rule applies to those at his end of the table. if upon the entrance of a visitor you carry on the thread of a previous conversation, you should briefly recapitulate to him what has been said before he arrived. do not be _always_ witty, even though you should be so happily gifted as to need the caution. to outshine others on every occasion is the surest road to unpopularity. always look, but never stare, at those with whom you converse. in order to meet the general needs of conversation in society, it is necessary that a man should be well acquainted with the current news and historical events of at least the last few years. never talk upon subjects of which you know nothing, unless it be for the purpose of acquiring information. many young men imagine that because they frequent exhibitions and operas they are qualified judges of art. no mistake is more egregious or universal. those who introduce anecdotes into their conversation are warned that these should invariably be "short, witty, eloquent, new, and not far-fetched." scandal is the least excusable of all conversational vulgarities. in conversing with a man of rank, do not too frequently give him his title. only a servant interlards every sentence with "my lord," or "my lady." it is, however, well to show that you remember his station by now and then introducing some such phrase as--"i think i have already mentioned to your lordship"--or, "i believe your grace was observing"... in general, however, you should address a nobleman as you would any other gentleman. the prince of wales himself is only addressed as "sir," in conversation, and the queen as "madam." * * * * * v.--notes of invitation, &c. notes of invitation and acceptance are written in the third person and the simplest style. the old-fashioned preliminary of "presenting compliments" is discontinued by the most elegant letter-writers. all notes of invitation are now issued in the name of the mistress of the house only, as follows;-- "mrs. norman requests the honour of sir george and lady thurlow's company at an evening party, on monday, th of june." others prefer the subjoined form, which is purchaseable ready printed upon either cards or note-paper, with blanks for names or dates:-- "mrs. norman, "at home, "monday evening, june th inst." an "at home" is, however, considered somewhat less stately than an evening party, and partakes more of the character of a _conversazione_. the reply to a note of invitation should be couched as follows:-- "mr. berkeley has much pleasure in accepting mrs. norman's polite invitation for monday evening, june the th inst." never "avail" yourself of an invitation. above all, never speak or write of an invitation as "an invite." it is neither good breeding nor good english. notes of invitation and reply should be written on small paper of the best quality, and enclosed in envelopes to correspond. a gentleman should never use sealing-wax of any colour but red, nor paper of any hue but white. fancy papers, fantastic borders, dainty coloured wax, and the like elegant follies, are only admissible in the desk of a lady. never omit the address and date from any letter, whether of business, friendship, or ceremony. letters in the first person, addressed to strangers, should begin with "sir," or "madam," and end with "i have the honour to be your very obedient servant." some object to this form of words from a mistaken sense of pride; but it is merely a form, and, rightly apprehended, evinces a "proud humility," which implies more condescension than a less formal phrase. at the end of your letter, at some little distance below your signature, and in the left corner of your paper, write the name of the person to whom your letter is addressed; as "sir james dalhousie," or "edward munroe, esquire." it is more polite to write esquire at full length than to curtail it to esq. in writing to persons much your superior or inferior, use as few words as possible. in the former case, to take up much of a great man's time is to take a liberty; in the latter to be diffuse is to be too familiar. it is only in familiar correspondence that long letters are permissible. in writing to a tradesman, begin your letter by addressing him by name, as-- "mr. jones,--sir." a letter thus begun may, with propriety, be ended with-- "sir, yours truly." letters to persons whom you meet frequently in society, without having arrived at intimacy, may commence with "dear sir," and end with "i am, dear sir, yours very truly." letters commencing "my dear sir," addressed to persons whom you appreciate, and with whom you are on friendly terms, may end with "i am, my dear sir, yours very faithfully," or "yours very sincerely." to be prompt in replying to a letter is to be polite. * * * * * vi.--the promenade. a well-bred man must entertain no respect for the brim of his hat. "a bow," says la fontaine, "is a note drawn at sight." you are bound to acknowledge it immediately, and to the full amount. the two most elegant men of their day, charles the second and george the fourth, never failed to take off their hats to the meanest of their subjects. always bear this example in mind; and remember that to nod, or merely to touch the brim of the hat, is far from courteous. true politeness demands that the hat should be quite lifted from the head. on meeting friends with whom you are likely to shake hands, remove your hat with the left hand in order to leave the right hand free. if you meet a lady in the street whom you are sufficiently intimate to address, do not stop her, but turn round and walk beside her in whichever direction she is going. when you have said all that you wish to say, you can take your leave. if you meet a lady with whom you are not particularly well acquainted, wait for her recognition before you venture to bow to her. in bowing to a lady whom you are not going to address, lift your hat with that hand which is farthest from her. for instance, if you pass her on the right side, use your left hand; if on the left, use your right. if you are on horseback and wish to converse with a lady who is on foot, you must dismount and lead your horse, so as not to give her the fatigue of looking up to your level. neither should you subject her to the impropriety of carrying on a conversation in a tone necessarily louder than is sanctioned in public by the laws of good breeding. when you meet friends or acquaintances in the streets, the exhibitions, or any public places, take care not to pronounce their names so loudly as to attract the attention of the passers-by. never call across the street: and never carry on a dialogue in a public vehicle, unless your interlocutor occupies the seat beside your own. in walking with a lady, take charge of any small parcel, parasol, or book with which she may be encumbered. if you so far forget what is elegant as to smoke in the street, at least never omit to fling away your cigar if you speak to a lady. * * * * * vii.--dress. a great french writer has said, with as much grace as philosophy, that the artist and man of letters needs only a black coat and the absence of all pretension to place him on the level of the best society. it must be observed, however, that this remark applies only to the intellectual workers, who, if they do occasionally commit a minor solecism in dress or manners, are forgiven on account of their fame and talents. other individuals are compelled to study what we have elsewhere called the "by-laws of society;" and it would be well if artists and men of letters would more frequently do the same. it is not enough that a man should be clever, or well educated, or well born; to take his place in society he must be acquainted with all that this little book proposes to teach. he must, above all else, know how to enter the room, how to bow, and how to dress. of these three indispensable qualifications, the most important, because the most observed, is the latter. a gentleman should always be so well dressed that his dress shall never be observed at all. does this sound like an enigma? it is not meant for one. it only implies that perfect simplicity is perfect elegance, and that the true test of taste in the toilette of a gentleman is its entire harmony, unobtrusiveness and becomingness. if any friend should say to you, "what a handsome waistcoat you have on!" you may depend that a less handsome waistcoat would be in better taste. if you hear it said that mr. so-and-so wears superb jewellery, you may conclude beforehand that he wears too much. display, in short, is ever to be avoided, especially in matters of dress. the toilette is the domain of the fair sex. let a wise man leave its graces and luxuries to his wife, daughters or sisters, and seek to be himself appreciated for something of higher worth than the embroidery upon his shirt front, or the trinkets on his chain. to be too much in the fashion is as vulgar as to be too far behind it. no really well-bred man follows every new cut that he sees in his tailor's fashion-book. only very young men, and those not of the most aristocratic circles, are guilty of this folly. the author of "pelham" has aptly said that a gentleman's coat should not fit too well. there is great truth and subtlety in this observation. to be fitted _too_ well is to look like a tailor's assistant. this is the great fault which we have to find in the style of even the best bred frenchmen. they look as if they had just stepped out of a fashion-book, and lack the careless ease which makes an english gentleman look as if his clothes belonged to him, and not he to his clothes. in the morning wear frock coats, double-breasted waistcoats, and trousers of light or dark colours, according to the season. in the evening, though only in the bosom of your own family, wear only black, and be as scrupulous to put on a dress coat as if you expected visitors. if you have sons, bring them up to do the same. it is the observance of these minor trifles in domestic etiquette which marks the true gentleman. for evening parties, dinner parties, and balls, wear a black dress coat, black trousers, black silk or cloth waistcoat, white cravat, white or grey kid gloves, and thin patent leather boots. a black cravat may be worn in full dress, but is not so elegant as a white one. a black velvet waistcoat should only be worn at a dinner party. let your jewellery be of the best, but the least gaudy description, and wear it very sparingly. a set of good studs, a gold watch and guard, and one handsome ring, are as many ornaments as a gentleman can wear with propriety. in the morning let your ring be a seal ring, with your crest or arms engraved upon it. in the evening it may be a diamond. your studs, however valuable, should be small. it is well to remember in the choice of jewellery that mere costliness is not always the test of value; and that an exquisite work of art, such as a fine cameo, or a natural rarity, such as a black pearl, is a more _distingué_ possession than a large brilliant which any rich and tasteless vulgarian can buy as easily as yourself. for a ring, the gentleman of fine taste would prefer a precious antique _intaglio_ to the handsomest diamond or ruby that could be brought at hunt and roskell's. the most elegant gentleman with whom the author was ever acquainted--a man familiar with all the courts of europe--never wore any other shirt-studs in full dress than three valuable black pearls, each about the size of a pea, and by no means beautiful to look at. of all precious stones, the opal is one of the most lovely and the least common-place. no vulgar man purchases an opal. he invariably prefers the more showy diamond, ruby, sapphire, or emerald. unless you are a snuff-taker, never carry any but a white pocket-handkerchief. if in the morning you wear a long cravat fastened by a pin, be careful to avoid what may be called _alliteration_ of colour. we have seen a torquoise pin worn in a violet-coloured cravat, and the effect was frightful. choose, if possible, complementary colours, and their secondaries. for instance, if the stone in your pin be a torquoise, wear it with brown, or crimson mixed with black, or black and orange. if a ruby, contrast it with shades of green. the same rule holds good with regard to the mixture and contrast of colours in your waistcoat or cravat. thus, a buff waistcoat and a blue tie, or brown and blue, or brown and green, or brown and magenta, green and magenta, green and mauve, are all good arrangements of colour. very light coloured cloths for morning wear are to be avoided, even in the height of summer; and fancy cloths of strange patterns and mixtures are exceedingly objectionable. coloured shirts may be worn in the morning; but they should be small in pattern, and quiet in colour. with a coloured shirt, always wear a white collar. never wear a cap, unless in the fields or garden; and let your hat be always black. for a gentleman's wedding dress see the "etiquette of courtship and marriage." if your sight compels you to wear spectacles, let them be of the best and lightest make, and mounted in gold or blue steel. if you suffer from weak sight, and are obliged to wear coloured glasses, let them be of blue or smoke colour. green are detestable. never be seen in the street without gloves; and never let your gloves be of any material that is not kid or calf. worsted or cotton gloves are unutterably vulgar. your gloves should fit to the last degree of perfection. in these days of public baths and universal progress, we trust that it is unnecessary to do more than hint at the necessity of the most fastidious personal cleanliness. the hair, the teeth, the nails, should be faultlessly kept; and a soiled shirt, a dingy pocket-handkerchief, or a light waistcoat that has been worn once too often, are things to be scrupulously avoided by any man who is ambitious of preserving the exterior of a gentleman. * * * * * viii.--riding and driving. in riding, as in walking, give the lady the wall. if you assist a lady to mount, hold your hand at a convenient distance from the ground, that she may place her foot in it. as she springs, you aid her by the impetus of your hand. in doing this, it is always better to agree upon a signal, that her spring and your assistance may come at the same moment. for this purpose there is no better form than the old duelling one of "one, two, _three_." when the lady is in the saddle, it is your place to find the stirrup for her, and guide her left foot to it. when this is done, she rises in her seat and you assist her to draw her habit straight. even when a groom is present, it is more polite for the gentleman himself to perform this office for his fair companion; as it would be more polite for him to hand her a chair than to have it handed by a servant. if the lady be light, you must take care not to give her too much impetus in mounting. we have known a lady nearly thrown over her horse by a misplaced zeal of this kind. in riding with a lady, never permit her to pay the tolls. if a gate has to be opened, we need hardly observe that it is your place to hold it open till the lady has passed through. in driving, a gentleman places himself with his back to the horses, and leaves the best seat for the ladies. if you are alone in a carriage with a lady, never sit beside her, unless you are her husband, father, son, or brother. even though you be her affianced lover, you should still observe this rule of etiquette. to do otherwise, would be to assume the unceremonious air of a husband. when the carriage stops, the gentleman should alight first, in order to assist the lady. to get in and out of a carriage gracefully is a simple but important accomplishment. if there is but one step, and you are going to take your seat facing the horses, put your left foot on the step and enter the carriage with your right in such a manner as to drop at once into your seat. if you are about to sit with your back to the horses, reverse the process. as you step into the carriage, be careful to keep your back towards the seat you are about to occupy, so as to avoid the awkwardness of turning when you are once in. a gentleman cannot be too careful to avoid stepping on ladies' dresses when he gets in or out of a carriage. he should also beware of shutting them in with the door. * * * * * ix.--morning and evening parties. the morning party is a modern invention; it was unknown to our fathers and mothers, and even to ourselves, till quite lately. a morning party is seldom given out of the season--that is to say, during any months except those of may, june, and july. it begins about two o'clock and ends about five, and the entertainment consists for the most part of conversation, music, and (if there be a garden) croquet, lawn billiards, archery, &c. "aunt sally" is now out of fashion. the refreshments are given in the form of a _déjeûner à la fourchette_. elegant morning dress, general good manners, and some acquaintance with the topics of the day and the games above named, are all the qualifications especially necessary to a gentleman at a morning party. an evening party begins about nine o'clock, p.m., and ends about midnight, or somewhat later. good breeding neither demands that you should present yourself at the commencement, nor remain till the close of the evening. you come and go as may be most convenient to you, and by these means are at liberty, during the height of the season when evening parties are numerous, to present yourself at two or three houses during a single evening. always put your gloves on before entering the drawing-room, and be careful that there is no speck of mud upon your boots or trousers. when your name is announced, look for the lady of the house and pay your respects to her before you even seem to see any other of your friends who may be in the room. at very large and fashionable receptions, the hostess is generally to be found near the door. should you, however, find yourself separated by a dense crowd of guests, you are at liberty to recognize those who are near you, and those whom you encounter as you make your way slowly through the throng. general salutations of the company are now wholly disused. in society, a man only recognizes his own friends and acquaintances. if you are at the house of a new acquaintance and find yourself among entire strangers, remember that by so meeting under one roof you are all in a certain sense made known to one another, and should therefore converse freely, as equals. to shrink away to a side-table and affect to be absorbed in some album or illustrated work; or, if you find one unlucky acquaintance in the room, to fasten upon him like a drowning man clinging to a spar, are _gaucheries_ which no shyness can excuse. an easy and unembarrassed manner, and the self-possession requisite to open a conversation with those who happen to be near you, are the indispensable credentials of a well-bred man. at an evening party, do not remain too long in one spot. to be afraid to move from one drawing-room to another is the sure sign of a neophyte in society. if you have occasion to use your handkerchief, do so as noiselessly as possible. to blow your nose as if it were a trombone, or to turn your head aside when using your handkerchief, are vulgarities scrupulously to be avoided. never stand upon the hearth-rug with your back to the fire, either in a friend's house or your own. we have seen even well-bred men at evening parties commit this selfish and vulgar solecism. never offer any one the chair from which you have just risen, unless there be no other disengaged. if when supper is announced no lady has been especially placed under your care by the hostess, offer your arm to whichever lady you may have last conversed with. if you possess any musical accomplishments, do not wait to be pressed and entreated by your hostess, but comply immediately when she pays you the compliment of inviting you to play or sing. remember, however, that only the lady of the house has the right to ask you. if others do so, you can put them off in some polite way; but must not comply till the hostess herself invites you. if you sing comic songs, be careful that they are of the most unexceptionable kind, and likely to offend neither the tastes nor prejudices of the society in which you find yourself. at an evening party given expressly in honour of a distinguished lady of colour, we once heard a thoughtless amateur dash into the broadly comic, but terribly appropriate nigger song of "sally come up." before he had got through the first verse, he had perceived his mistake, and was so overwhelmed with shame that he could scarcely preserve sufficient presence of mind to carry him through to the end. if the party be of a small and social kind, and those games called by the french _les jeux innocents_ are proposed, do not object to join in them when invited. it may be that they demand some slight exercise of wit and readiness, and that you do not feel yourself calculated to shine in them; but it is better to seem dull than disagreeable, and those who are obliging can always find some clever neighbour to assist them in the moment of need. the game of "consequences" is one which unfortunately gives too much scope to liberty of expression. if you join in this game, we cannot too earnestly enjoin you never to write down one word which the most pure-minded woman present might not read aloud without a blush. jests of an equivocal character are not only vulgar, but contemptible. impromptu charades are frequently organized at friendly parties. unless you have really some talent for acting and some readiness of speech, you should remember that you only put others out and expose your own inability by taking part in these entertainments. of course, if your help is really needed and you would disoblige by refusing, you must do your best, and by doing it as quietly and coolly as possible, avoid being awkward or ridiculous. should an impromptu polka or quadrille be got up after supper at a party where no dancing was intended, be sure not to omit putting on gloves before you stand up. it is well always to have a pair of white gloves in your pocket in case of need; but even black are better under these circumstances than none. even though you may take no pleasure in cards, some knowledge of the etiquette and rules belonging to the games most in vogue is necessary to you in society. if a fourth hand is wanted at a rubber, or if the rest of the company sit down to a round game, you would be deemed guilty of an impoliteness if you refused to join. the games most commonly played in society are whist, loo, _vingt-et-un_, and speculation. whist requires four players.[a] a pack of cards being spread upon the table with their faces downwards, the four players draw for partners. those who draw the two highest cards and those who draw the two lowest become partners. the lowest of all claims the deal. married people should not play at the same table, unless where the party is so small that it cannot be avoided. this rule supposes nothing so disgraceful to any married couple as dishonest collusion; but persons who play regularly together cannot fail to know so much of each other's mode of acting, under given circumstances, that the chances no longer remain perfectly even in favour of their adversaries. never play for higher stakes than you can afford to lose without regret. cards should be resorted to for amusement only; for excitement, never. no well-bred person ever loses temper at the card-table. you have no right to sit down to the game unless you can bear a long run of ill luck with perfect composure, and are prepared cheerfully to pass over any blunders that your partner may chance to make. if you are an indifferent player, make a point of saying so before you join a party at whist. if the others are fine players they will be infinitely more obliged to you for declining than accepting their invitation. in any case you have no right to spoil their pleasure by your bad play. never let even politeness induce you to play for very high stakes. etiquette is the minor morality of life; but it never should be allowed to outweigh the higher code of right and wrong. be scrupulous to observe silence when any of the company are playing or singing. remember that they are doing this for the amusement of the rest; and that to talk at such a time is as ill-bred as if you were to turn your back upon a person who was talking to you, and begin a conversation with some one else. if you are yourself the performer, bear in mind that in music, as in speech, "brevity is the soul of wit." two verses of a song, or four pages of a piece, are at all times enough to give pleasure. if your audience desire more they will ask for more; and it is infinitely more flattering to be encored than to receive the thanks of your hearers, not so much in gratitude for what you have given them, but in relief that you have left off. you should try to suit your music, like your conversation, to your company. a solo of beethoven's would be as much out of place in some circles as a comic song at a quakers' meeting. to those who only care for the light popularities, of the season, give balfe and verdi, glover and jullien. to connoisseurs, if you perform well enough to venture, give such music as will be likely to meet the exigences of a fine taste. above all, attempt nothing that you cannot execute with ease and precision. in retiring from a crowded party it is unnecessary that you should seek out the hostess for the purpose of bidding her a formal good night. by doing this you would, perhaps, remind others that it was getting late, and cause the party to break up. if you meet the lady of the house on your way to the drawing-room door, take your leave of her as unobtrusively as possible, and slip away without attracting the attention of her other guests. [footnote a: for a succinct guide to whist, loo, _vingt-et-un_, speculation, &c., &c., &c., see routledge's "card-player," by g.f. pardon, price _sixpence_.] * * * * * x.--the dinner table. to be acquainted with every detail of the etiquette pertaining to this subject is of the highest importance to every gentleman. ease, _savoir faire_, and good breeding are nowhere more indispensable than at the dinner-table, and the absence of them are nowhere more apparent. how to eat soup and what to do with a cherry-stone are weighty considerations when taken as the index of social status; and it is not too much to say, that a man who elected to take claret with his fish, or ate peas with his knife, would justly risk the punishment of being banished from good society. as this subject is one of the most important of which we have to treat, we may be pardoned for introducing an appropriate anecdote related by the french poet delille:-- delille and marmontel were dining together in the month of april, , and the conversation happened to turn upon dinner-table customs. marmontel observed how many little things a well-bred man was obliged to know, if he would avoid being ridiculous at the tables of his friends. "they are, indeed, innumerable," said delille; "and the most annoying fact of all is, that not all the wit and good sense in the world can help one to divine them untaught. a little while ago, for instance, the abbé cosson, who is professor of literature at the collège mazarin, was describing to me a grand dinner to which he had been invited at versailles, and to which he had sat down in the company of peers, princes, and marshals of france. "'i'll wager, now,' said i, 'that you committed a hundred blunders in the etiquette of the table!' "'how so?' replied the abbé, somewhat nettled. 'what blunders could i make? it seems to me that i did precisely as others did.' "'and i, on the contrary, would stake my life that you did nothing as others did. but let us begin at the beginning, and see which is right. in the first place there was your table-napkin--what did you do with that when you sat down at table?' "'what did i do with my table-napkin? why, i did like the rest of the guests: i shook it out of the folds, spread it before me, and fastened one corner to my button-hole.' "'very well, _mon cher_; you were the only person who did so. no one shakes, spreads, and fastens a table-napkin in that manner. you should have only laid it across your knees. what soup had you?' "'turtle.' "'and how did you eat it?' "'like every one else, i suppose. i took my spoon in one hand, and my fork in the other--' "'your fork! good heavens! none but a savage eats soup with a fork. but go on. what did you take next?' "'a boiled egg.' "'good and what did you do with the shell?' "'not eat it certainly. i left it, of course, in the egg-cup.' "'without breaking it through with your spoon?' "'without breaking it.' "'then, my dear fellow, permit me to tell you that no one eats an egg without breaking the shell and leaving the spoon standing in it. and after your egg?' "'i asked for some _bouilli_.' "'for _boulli_! it is a term that no one uses. you should have asked for beef--never for _boulli_. well, and after the _bouilli_?' "'i asked the abbé de radonvillais for some fowl.' "'wretched man! fowl, indeed! you should have asked for chicken or capon. the word "fowl" is never heard out of the kitchen. but all this applies only to what you ate; tell me something of what you drank, and how you asked for it.' "'i asked for champagne and bordeaux from those who had the bottles before them.' "'know then, my good friend, that only a waiter, who has no time or breath to spare, asks for champagne or bordeaux. a gentleman asks for _vin de champagne_ and _vin de bordeaux_. and now inform me how you ate your bread?' "'undoubtedly like all the rest of the world. i cut it up into small square pieces with my knife.' "'then let me tell you that no one cuts bread. you should always break it. let us go on to the coffee. how did you drink yours?' "'pshaw! at least i could make no mistake in that. it was boiling hot, so i poured it, a little at a time, in the saucer, and drank it as it cooled.' "'_eh bien_! then you assuredly acted as no other gentleman in the room. nothing can be more vulgar than to pour tea or coffee into a saucer. you should have waited till it cooled, and then have drank it from the cup. and now you see, my dear cousin, that, so far from doing precisely as others did, you acted in no one respect according to the laws prescribed by etiquette.'" an invitation to dine should be replied to immediately, and unequivocally accepted or declined. once accepted, nothing but an event of the last importance should cause you to fail in your engagement. to be exactly punctual is the strictest politeness on these occasions. if you are too early, you are in the way; if too late, you spoil the dinner, annoy the hostess, and are hated by the rest of the guests. some authorities are even of opinion that in the question of a dinner-party "never" is better than "late;" and one author has gone so far as to say, if you do not reach the house till dinner is served, you had better retire to a restaurateur's, and thence send an apology, and not interrupt the harmony of the courses by awkward excuses and cold acceptance. when the party is assembled, the mistress or master of the house will point out to each gentleman the lady whom he is to conduct to table. if she be a stranger, you had better seek an introduction; if a previous acquaintance, take care to be near her when the dinner is announced, offer your arm, and go down according to precedence of rank. this order of precedence must be arranged by the host or hostess, as the guests are probably unacquainted, and cannot know each other's social rank. when the society is of a distinguished kind, the host will do well to consult debrett or burke, before arranging his visitors. when rank is not in question, other claims to precedence must be considered. the lady who is the greatest stranger should be taken down by the master of the house, and the gentleman who is the greatest stranger should conduct the hostess. married ladies take precedence of single ladies, elder ladies of younger ones, and so forth. when dinner is announced, the host offers his arm to the lady of most distinction, invites the rest to follow by a few words or a bow, and leads the way. the lady of the house should then follow with the gentleman who is most entitled to that honour, and the visitors follow in the order that the master of the house has previously arranged. the lady of the house frequently remains, however, till the last, that she may see her guests go down in their prescribed order; but the plan is not a convenient one. it is much better that the hostess should be in her place as the guests enter the dining-room, in order that she may indicate their seats to them as they come in, and not find them all crowded together in uncertainty when she arrives. the number of guests at a dinner-party should always be determined by the size of the table. when the party is too small, conversation flags, and a general air of desolation pervades the table. when they are too many, every one is inconvenienced. a space of two feet should be allowed to each person. it is well to arrange a party in such wise that the number of ladies and gentlemen be equal. it requires some tact to distribute your guests so that each shall find himself with a neighbour to his taste; but as much of the success of a dinner will always depend on this matter, it is worth some consideration. if you have a wit, or a particularly good talker, among your visitors, it is well to place him near the centre of the table, where he can be heard and talked to by all. it is obviously a bad plan to place two such persons in close proximity. they extinguish each other. neither is it advisable to assign two neighbouring seats to two gentlemen of the same profession, as they are likely to fall into exclusive conversation and amuse no one but themselves. a little consideration of the politics, religious opinions, and tastes of his friends, will enable a judicious host to avoid many quicksands, and establish much pleasant intercourse on the occasion of a dinner party. the lady of the house takes the head of the table. the gentleman who led her down to dinner occupies the seat on her right hand, and the gentleman next in order of precedence, that on her left. the master of the house takes the foot of the table. the lady whom he escorted sits on his right hand, and the lady next in order of precedence on his left. the gentlemen who support the lady of the house should offer to relieve her of the duties of hostess. many ladies are well pleased thus to delegate the difficulties of carving, and all gentlemen who accept invitations to dinner should be prepared to render such assistance when called upon. to offer to carve a dish, and then perform the office unskilfully, is an unpardonable _gaucherie_. every gentleman should carve, and carve well. as soon as you are seated at table, remove your gloves, place your table napkin across your knees, and remove the roll which you find probably within it to the left side of your plate. the soup should be placed on the table first. some old-fashioned persons still place soup and fish together; but "it is a custom more honoured in the breach than the observance." still more old-fashioned, and in still worse taste is it to ask your guests if they will take "soup or fish." they are as much separate courses as the fish and the meat; and all experienced diners take both. in any case, it is inhospitable to appear to force a choice upon a visitor, when that visitor, in all probability, will prefer to take his soup first and his fish afterwards. all well-ordered dinners begin with soup, whether in summer or winter. the lady of the house should help it and send it round, without asking each individual in turn. it is as much an understood thing as the bread beside each plate, and those who do not choose it, are always at liberty to leave it untasted. in eating soup, remember always to take it from the side of the spoon, and to make no sound in doing so. if the servants do not go round with wine the gentlemen should help the ladies and themselves to sherry or sauterne immediately after the soup. you should never ask for a second supply of either soup or fish; it delays the next course, and keeps the table waiting. never offer to "assist" your neighbours to this or that dish. the word is inexpressibly vulgar--all the more vulgar for its affectation of elegance. "shall i send you some mutton?" or "may i help you to grouse?" is better chosen and better bred. as a general rule, it is better not to ask your guests if they will partake of the dishes; but to send the plates round, and let them accept or decline them as they please. at very large dinners it is sometimes customary to distribute little lists of the order of the dishes at intervals along the table. it must be confessed that this gives somewhat the air of a dinner at an hotel; but it has the advantage of enabling the visitors to select their fare, and, as "forewarned is forearmed," to keep a corner, as the children say, for their favourite dishes. if you are asked to take wine, it is polite to select the same as that which your interlocutor is drinking. if you invite a lady to take wine, you should ask her which she will prefer, and then take the same yourself. should you, however, for any reason prefer some other vintage, you can take it by courteously requesting her permission. as soon as you are helped, begin to eat; or, if the viands are too hot for your palate, take up your knife and fork and appear to begin. to wait for others is now not only old-fashioned, but ill-bred. never offer to pass on the plate to which you have been helped. this is a still more vulgar piece of politeness, and belongs to the manners of a hundred years ago. the lady of the house who sends your plate to you is the best judge of precedence at her own table. in helping soup, fish, or any other dish, remember that to overfill a plate is as bad as to supply it too scantily. silver fish-knives will now always be met with at the best tables; but where there are none, a piece of crust should be taken in the left hand, and the fork in the right. there is no exception to this rule in eating fish. we presume it is scarcely necessary to remind the reader that he is never, under any circumstances, to convey his knife to his mouth. peas are eaten with the fork; tarts, curry, and puddings of all kinds with the spoon. always help fish with a fish-slice, and tart and puddings with a spoon, or, if necessary, a spoon and fork. asparagus must be helped with the asparagus-tongs. in eating asparagus, it is well to observe what others do, and act accordingly. some very well-bred people eat it with the fingers; others cut off the heads, and convey them to the mouth upon the fork. it would be difficult to say which is the more correct. in eating stone fruit, such as cherries, damsons, &c., the same rule had better be observed. some put the stones out from the mouth into a spoon, and so convey them to the plate. others cover the lips with the hand, drop them unseen into the palm, and so deposit them on the side of the plate. in our own opinion, the last is the better way, as it effectually conceals the return of the stones, which is certainly the point of highest importance. of one thing we may be sure, and that is, that they must never be dropped from the mouth to the plate. in helping sauce, always pour it on the side of the plate. if the servants do not go round with the wine (which is by far the best custom), the gentlemen at a dinner-table should take upon themselves the office of helping those ladies who sit near them. ladies take more wine in the present day than they did fifty years ago, and gentlemen should remember this, and offer it frequently. ladies cannot very well ask for wine, but they can always decline it. at all events, they do not like to be neglected, or to see gentlemen liberally helping themselves, without observing whether their fair neighbours' glasses are full or empty. young ladies seldom drink more than three glasses of wine at dinner; but married ladies, professional ladies, and those accustomed to society, and habits of affluence, will habitually take five or even six, whether in their own homes or at the tables of their friends. the habit of taking wine with each other has almost wholly gone out of fashion. a gentleman may ask the lady whom he conducted down to dinner; or he may ask the lady of the house to take wine with him. but even these last remnants of the old custom are fast falling into disuse. unless you are a total abstainer, it is extremely uncivil to decline taking wine if you are invited to do so. in accepting, you have only to pour a little fresh wine into your glass, look at the person who invited you, bow slightly, and take a sip from the glass. it is particularly ill-bred to empty your glass on these occasions. certain wines are taken with certain dishes, by old-established custom--as sherry, or sauterne, with soup and fish; hock and claret with roast meat; punch with turtle; champagne with whitebait; port with venison; port, or burgundy, with game; sparkling wines between the roast and the confectionery; madeira with sweets; port with cheese; and for dessert, port, tokay, madeira, sherry, and claret. red wines should never be iced, even in summer. claret and burgundy should always be slightly warmed; claret-cup and champagne-cup should, of course, be iced. instead of cooling their wines in the ice-pail, some hosts have of late years introduced clear ice upon the table, broken up in small lumps, to be put inside the glasses. this is an innovation that cannot be too strictly reprehended or too soon abolished. melting ice can but weaken the quality and flavour of the wine. those who desire to drink _wine and_ _water_ can asked for iced water if they choose, but it savours too much of economy on the part of a host to insinuate the ice inside the glasses of his guests, when the wine could be more effectually iced outside the bottle. a silver knife and fork should be placed to each guest at dessert. if you are asked to prepare fruit for a lady, be careful to do so, by means of the silver knife and fork only, and never to touch it with your fingers. it is wise never to partake of any dish without knowing of what ingredients it is composed. you can always ask the servant who hands it to you, and you thereby avoid all danger of having to commit the impoliteness of leaving it, and showing that you do not approve of it. never speak while you have anything in your mouth. be careful never to taste soups or puddings till you are sure they are sufficiently cool; as, by disregarding this caution, you may be compelled to swallow what is dangerously hot, or be driven to the unpardonable alternative of returning it to your plate. when eating or drinking, avoid every kind of audible testimony to the fact. finger-glasses, containing water slightly warmed and perfumed, are placed to each person at dessert. in these you may dip the tips of your fingers, wiping them afterwards on your table-napkin. if the finger-glass and d'oyley are placed on your dessert-plate, you should immediately remove the d'oyley to the left of your plate, and place the finger-glass upon it. by these means you leave the right for the wine-glasses. be careful to know the shapes of the various kinds of wine-glasses commonly in use, in order that you may never put forward one for another. high and narrow, and very broad and shallow glasses, are used for champagne; large, goblet-shaped glasses for burgundy and claret; ordinary wine-glasses for sherry and madeira; green glasses for hock; and somewhat large, bell-shaped glasses, for port. port, sherry, and madeira, are decanted. hocks and champagnes appear in their native bottles. claret and burgundy are handed round in a claret-jug. coffee and liqueurs should be handed round when the dessert has been about a quarter of an hour on the table. after this, the ladies generally retire. should no servant be present to do so, the gentleman who is nearest the door should hold it for the ladies to pass through. when the ladies leave the dining-room, the gentlemen all rise in their places, and do not resume their seats till the last lady is gone. the servants leave the room when the dessert is on the table. if you should unfortunately overturn or break anything, do not apologize for it. you can show your regret in your face, but it is not well-bred to put it into words. should you injure a lady's dress, apologise amply, and assist her, if possible, to remove all traces of the damage. to abstain from taking the last piece on the dish, or the last glass of wine in the decanter, only because it is the last, is highly ill-bred. it implies a fear that the vacancy cannot be supplied, and almost conveys an affront to your host. in summing up the little duties and laws of the table, a popular author has said that--"the chief matter of consideration at the dinner-table--as, indeed, everywhere else in the life of a gentleman--is to be perfectly composed and at his ease. he speaks deliberately; he performs the most important act of the day as if he were performing the most ordinary. yet there is no appearance of trifling or want of gravity in his manner; he maintains the dignity which is so becoming on so vital an occasion. he performs all the ceremonies, yet in the style of one who performs no ceremonies at all. he goes through all the complicated duties of the scene as if he were 'to the manner born.'" to the giver of a dinner we have but one or two remarks to offer. if he be a bachelor, he had better give his dinner at a good hotel, or have it sent in from birch's or kühn's. if a married man, he will, we presume, enter into council with his wife and his cook. in any case, however, he should always bear in mind that it is his duty to entertain his friends in the best manner that his means permit; and that this is the least he can do to recompense them for the expenditure of time and money which they incur in accepting his invitation. "to invite a friend to dinner," says brillat savarin, "is to become responsible for his happiness so long as he is under your roof." again:--"he who receives friends at his table, without having bestowed his personal supervision upon the repast placed before them, is unworthy to have friends." a dinner, to be excellent, need not consist of a great variety of dishes; but everything should be of the best, and the cookery should be perfect. that which should be cool should be cool as ice; that which should be hot should be smoking; the attendance should be rapid and noiseless; the guests well assorted; the wines of the best quality; the host attentive and courteous; the room well lighted; and the time punctual. every dinner should begin with soup, be followed by fish, and include some kind of game. "the soup is to the dinner," we are told by grisnod de la regnière, "what the portico is to a building, or the overture to an opera." to this aphorism we may be permitted to add that a _chasse_ of cognac or curaçoa at the close of the dinner is like the epilogue at the end of a comedy. one more quotation and we have done:--"to perform faultlessly the honours of the table is one of the most difficult things in society. it might indeed he asserted without much fear of contradiction, that no man has as yet ever reached exact propriety in his office as host, or has hit the mean between exerting himself too much and too little. his great business is to put every one entirely at his ease, to gratify all his desires, and make him, in a word, absolutely contented with men and things. to accomplish this, he must have the genius of tact to perceive, and the genius of finesse to execute; ease and frankness of manner; a knowledge of the world that nothing can surprise; a calmness of temper that nothing can disturb; and a kindness of disposition that can never be exhausted. when he receives others he must be content to forget himself; he must relinquish all desire to shine, and even all attempts to please his guests by conversation, and rather do all in his power to let them please one another. he behaves to them without agitation, without affectation; he pays attention without an air of protection; he encourages the timid, draws out the silent, and directs conversation without sustaining it himself. he who does not do all this is wanting in his duty as host--_he who does, is more than mortal_." in conclusion, we may observe that to sit long in the dining-room after the ladies have retired is to pay a bad compliment to the hostess and her fair visitors; and that it is a still worse tribute to rejoin them with a flushed face and impaired powers of thought. a refined gentleman is always temperate. * * * * * xi.--the ball-room. invitations to a ball are issued at least ten days in advance; and this term is sometimes, in the height of the season, extended to three weeks, or even a month. an invitation should be accepted or declined within a day or two of its reception. gentlemen who do not dance should not accept invitations of this kind. they are but incumbrances in the ball-room, besides which, it looks like a breach of etiquette and courtesy to stand or sit idly by when there are, most probably, ladies in the room who are waiting for an invitation to dance. a ball generally begins about half-past nine or ten o'clock. a man who stands up to dance without being acquainted with the figures, makes himself ridiculous, and places his partner in an embarrassing and unenviable position. there is no need for him to know the steps. it is enough if he knows how to walk gracefully through the dance, and to conduct his partner through it like a gentleman. no man can waltz too well; but to perform steps in a quadrille is not only unnecessary but _outré_. a gentleman cannot ask a lady to dance without being first introduced to her by some member of the hostess's family. never enter a ball-room in other than full evening dress, and white or light kid gloves. a gentleman cannot be too careful not to injure a lady's dress. the young men of the present day are inconceivably thoughtless in this respect, and often seem to think the mischief which they do scarcely worth an apology. cavalry officers should never wear spurs in a ball-room. bear in mind that all _casino_ habits are to be scrupulously avoided in a private ball-room. it is an affront to a highly-bred lady to hold her hand behind you, or on your hip, when dancing a round dance. we have seen even aristocratic young men of the "fast" genus commit these unpardonable offences against taste and decorum. never forget a ball-room engagement. it is the greatest neglect and slight that a gentleman can offer to a lady. at the beginning and end of a quadrille the gentleman bows to his partner, and bows again on handing her to a seat. after dancing, the gentleman may offer to conduct the lady to the refreshment-room. should a lady decline your hand for a dance, and afterwards stand up with another partner, you will do well to attribute her error to either forgetfulness or ignorance of the laws of etiquette. politeness towards your host and hostess demands that you should never make any little personal grievance the ground of discomfort or disagreement. a gentleman conducts his last partner to supper; waits upon her till she has had as much refreshment as she desires, and then re-conducts her to the ball-room. however much pleasure you may take in the society of any particular lady, etiquette forbids that you should dance with her too frequently. engaged persons would do well to bear this maxim in mind. it is customary to call upon your entertainers within a few days after the ball.[a] [footnote a: for a more detailed account of the laws and business of the ball, see the chapters entitled "the ball-room guide."] * * * * * xii.--staying at a friend's house:--breakfast, luncheon, &c. a visitor is bound by the laws of social intercourse to conform in all respects to the habits of the house. in order to do this effectually, he should inquire, or cause his personal servant to inquire, what those habits are. to keep your friend's breakfast on the table till a late hour; to delay the dinner by want of punctuality; to accept other invitations, and treat his house as if it were merely an hotel to be slept in; or to keep the family up till unwonted hours, are alike evidences of a want of good feeling and good breeding. at breakfast and lunch absolute punctuality is not imperative; but a visitor should avoid being always the last to appear at table. no order of precedence is observed at either breakfast or luncheon. persons take their seats as they come in, and, having exchanged their morning salutations, begin to eat without waiting for the rest of the party. if letters are delivered to you at breakfast or luncheon, you may read them by asking permission from the lady who presides at the urn. always hold yourself at the disposal of those in whose house you are visiting. if they propose to ride, drive, walk, or otherwise occupy the day, you may take it for granted that these plans are made with reference to your enjoyment. you should, therefore, receive them with cheerfulness, enter into them with alacrity, and do your best to seem pleased, and be pleased, by the efforts which your friends make to entertain you. you should never take a book from the library to your own room without requesting permission to borrow it. when it is lent, you should take every care that it sustains no injury while in your possession, and should cover it, if necessary. a guest should endeavour to amuse himself as much as possible, and not be continually dependent on his hosts for entertainment. he should remember that, however welcome he may be, he is not always wanted. during the morning hours a gentleman visitor who neither shoots, reads, writes letters, nor does anything but idle about the house and chat with the ladies, is an intolerable nuisance. sooner than become the latter, he had better retire to the billiard-room and practise cannons by himself, or pretend an engagement and walk about the neighbourhood. those who receive "staying visitors," as they are called, should remember that the truest hospitality is that which places the visitor most at his ease, and affords him the greatest opportunity for enjoyment. they should also remember that different persons have different ideas on the subject of enjoyment, and that the surest way of making a guest happy is to find out what gives him pleasure; not to impose that upon him which is pleasure to themselves. a visitor should avoid giving unnecessary trouble to the servants of the house, and should be liberal to them when he leaves. the signal for retiring to rest is generally given by the appearance of the servant with wine, water, and biscuits, where a late dinner-hour is observed and suppers are not the custom. this is the last refreshment of the evening, and the visitor will do well to rise and wish good-night shortly after it has been partaken of by the family. * * * * * xiii.--general hints. in entering a morning exhibition, or public room, where ladies are present, the gentleman should lift his hat. in going upstairs the gentleman should precede the lady; in going down, he should follow her. if you accompany ladies to a theatre or concert-room, precede them to clear the way and secure their seats. do not frequently repeat the name of the person with whom you are conversing. it implies either the extreme of _hauteur_ or familiarity. we have already cautioned you against the repetition of titles. deference can always be better expressed in the voice, manner, and countenance than in any forms of words. if when you are walking with a lady in any crowded thoroughfare you are obliged to proceed singly, always precede her. always give the lady the wall; by doing so you interpose your own person between her and the passers by, and assign her the cleanest part of the pavement. at public balls, theatres, &c., a gentleman should never permit the lady to pay for refreshments, vehicles, and so forth. if she insists on repaying him afterwards, he must of course defer to her wishes. never speak of absent persons by only their christian or surnames; but always as mr. ---- or mrs. ----. above all, never name anybody by the first letter of his name. married people are sometimes guilty of this flagrant offence against taste. if you are smoking and meet a lady to whom you wish to speak, immediately throw away your cigar. do not smoke shortly before entering the presence of ladies. a young man who visits frequently at the house of a married friend may be permitted to show his sense of the kindness which he receives by the gift of a christmas or new year's volume to the wife or daughter of his entertainer. the presentation of _etrennes_ is now carried to a ruinous and ludicrous height among our french neighbours; but it should be remembered that, without either ostentation or folly, a gift ought to be worth offering. it is better to give nothing than too little. on the other hand, mere costliness does not constitute the soul of a present; on the contrary, it has the commercial and unflattering effect of repayment for value received. a gift should be precious for something better than its price. it may have been brought by the giver from some far or famous place; it may be unique in its workmanship; it may be valuable only from association with some great man or strange event. autographic papers, foreign curiosities, and the like, are elegant gifts. an author may offer his book, or a painter a sketch, with grace and propriety. offerings of flowers and game are unexceptionable, and may be made even to those whose position is superior to that of the giver. if you present a book to a friend, do not write his or her name in it, unless requested. you have no right to presume that it will be rendered any the more valuable for that addition; and you ought not to conclude beforehand that your gift will be accepted. never refuse a present unless under very exceptional circumstances. however humble the giver, and however poor the gift, you should appreciate the goodwill and intention, and accept it with kindness and thanks. never say "i fear i rob you," or "i am really ashamed to take it," &c., &c. such deprecatory phrases imply that you think the bestower of the gift cannot spare or afford it. never undervalue the gift which you are yourself offering; you have no business to offer it if it is valueless. neither say that you do not want it yourself, or that you should throw it away if it were not accepted. such apologies would be insults if true, and mean nothing if false. no compliment that bears insincerity on the face of it is a compliment at all. to yawn in the presence of others, to lounge, to put your feet on a chair, to stand with your back to the fire, to take the most comfortable seat in the room, to do anything which shows indifference, selfishness, or disrespect, is unequivocally vulgar and inadmissible. if a person of greater age or higher rank than yourself desires you to step first into a carriage, or through a door, it is more polite to bow and obey than to decline. compliance with, and deference to, the wishes of others is the finest breeding. when you cannot agree with the propositions advanced in general conversation, be silent. if pressed for your opinion, give it with modesty. never defend your own views too warmly. when you find others remain unconvinced, drop the subject, or lead to some other topic. look at those who address you. never boast of your birth, your money, your grand friends, or anything that is yours. if you have travelled, do not introduce that information into your conversation at every opportunity. any one can travel with money and leisure. the real distinction is to come home with enlarged views, improved tastes, and a mind free from prejudice. give a foreigner his name in full, as monsieur de vigny--never as _monsieur_ only. in speaking of him, give him his title, if he has one. foreign noblemen are addressed _viva voce_ as monsieur. in speaking of a foreign nobleman before his face, say monsieur le comte, or monsieur le marquis. in his absence, say monsieur le comte de vigny. converse with a foreigner in his own language. if not competent to do so, apologize, and beg permission to speak english. ball-room guide. * * * * * i.--how to organise a ball. as the number of guests at a dinner-party is regulated by the size of the table, so should the number of invitations to a ball be limited by the proportions of the ball-room. a prudent hostess will always invite a few more guests than she really desires to entertain, in the certainty that there will be some deserters when the appointed evening comes round; but she will at the same time remember that to overcrowd her room is to spoil the pleasure of those who love dancing, and that a party of this kind when, too numerously attended is as great a failure as one at which too few are present. a room which is nearly square, yet a little longer than it is broad, will be found the most favourable for a ball. it admits of two quadrille parties, or two round dances, at the same time. in a perfectly square room this arrangement is not so practicable or pleasant. a very long and narrow room is obviously of the worst shape for the purpose of dancing, and is fit only for quadrilles and country dances. the top of the ball-room is the part nearest the orchestra. in a private room, the top is where it would be if the room were a dining-room. it is generally at the farthest point from the door. dancers should be careful to ascertain the top of the room before taking their places, as the top couples always lead the dances. a good floor is of the last importance in a ball-room. in a private house, nothing can be better than a smooth, well-stretched holland, with the carpet beneath. abundance of light and free ventilation are indispensable to the spirits and comfort of the dancers. good music is as necessary to the prosperity of a ball as good wine to the excellence of a dinner. no hostess should tax her friends for this part of the entertainment. it is the most injudicious economy imaginable. ladies who would prefer to dance are tied to the pianoforte; and as few amateurs have been trained in the art of playing dance music with that strict attention to time and accent which is absolutely necessary to the comfort of the dancers, a total and general discontent is sure to be the result. to play dance music thoroughly well is a branch of the art which requires considerable practice. it is as different from every other kind of playing as whale fishing is from fly fishing. those who give private balls will do well ever to bear this in mind, and to provide skilled musicians for the evening. for a small party, a piano and cornopean make a very pleasant combination. unless where several instruments are engaged we do not recommend the introduction of the violin: although in some respects the finest of all solo instruments, it is apt to sound thin and shrill when employed on mere inexpressive dance tunes, and played by a mere dance player. invitations to a ball should be issued in the name of the lady of the house, and written on small note paper of the best quality. elegant printed forms, some of them printed in gold or silver, are to be had at every stationer's by those who prefer them. the paper may be gilt-edged, but not coloured. the sealing-wax used should be of some delicate hue. an invitation to a ball should be sent out at least ten days before the evening appointed. a fortnight, three weeks, and even a month may be allowed in the way of notice. not more than two or three days should be permitted to elapse before you reply to an invitation of this kind. the reply should always be addressed to the lady of the house, and should be couched in the same person as the invitation. the following are the forms generally in use:-- mrs. molyneux requests the honour of captain hamilton's company at an evening party, on monday, march the th instant. _dancing will begin at nine o'clock_. thursday, march st. * * * * * captain hamilton has much pleasure in accepting mrs. molyneux's polite invitation for monday evening, march the th instant. friday, march nd. the old form of "presenting compliments" is now out of fashion. if mrs. molyneux writes to captain hamilton in the first person, as "my dear sir," he is bound in etiquette to reply "my dear madam." the lady who gives a ball[a] should endeavour to secure an equal number of dancers of both sexes. many private parties are spoiled by the preponderance of young ladies, some of whom never get partners at all, unless they dance with each other. a room should in all cases be provided for the accommodation of the ladies. in this room there ought to be several looking-glasses; attendants to assist the fair visitors in the arrangement of their hair and dress; and some place in which the cloaks and shawls can be laid in order, and found at a moment's notice. it is well to affix tickets to the cloaks, giving a duplicate at the same time to each lady, as at the public theatres and concert-rooms. needles and thread should also be at hand, to repair any little accident incurred in dancing. another room should be devoted to refreshments, and kept amply supplied with coffee, lemonade, ices, wine and biscuits during the evening. where this cannot be arranged, the refreshments should be handed round between the dances. the question of supper is one which so entirely depends on the means of those who give a ball or evening party, that very little can be said upon it in a treatise of this description. where money is no object, it is of course always preferable to have the whole supper, "with all appliances and means to boot," sent in from some first-rate house. it spares all trouble whether to the entertainers or their servants, and relieves the hostess of every anxiety. where circumstances render such a course imprudent, we would only observe that a home-provided supper, however simple, should be good of its kind, and abundant in quantity. dancers are generally hungry people, and feel themselves much aggrieved if the supply of sandwiches proves unequal to the demand. great inconvenience is often experienced by the difficulty of procuring cabs at the close of an evening party. gentlemen who have been dancing, and are unprepared for walking, object to go home on foot, or seek vehicles for their wives and daughters. female servants who have been in attendance upon the visitors during a whole evening ought not to be sent out. if even men-servants are kept, they may find it difficult to procure as many cabs as are necessary. the best thing that the giver of a private ball can do under these circumstances, is to engage a policeman with a lantern to attend on the pavement during the evening, and to give notice during the morning at a neighbouring cab-stand, so as to ensure a sufficient number of vehicles at the time when they are likely to be required. [footnote a: it will be understood that we use the word "ball" to signify a private party, where there is dancing, as well as a public ball.] * * * * * ii.--ball-room toilette. ladies. the style of a lady's dress is a matter so entirely dependent on age, means and fashion, that we can offer but little advice upon it. fashion is so variable, that statements which are true of it to-day may be false a month hence. respecting no institution of modern society is it so difficult to pronounce half a dozen permanent rules. we may perhaps be permitted to suggest the following leading principles; but we do so with diffidence. rich colours harmonize with rich brunette complexions and dark hair. delicate colours are the most suitable for delicate and fragile styles of beauty. very young ladies are never so suitably attired as in white. ladies who dance should wear dresses of light and diaphanous materials, such as _tulle_, gauze, crape, net, &c., over coloured silk slips. silk dresses are not suitable for dancing. a married lady who dances only a few quadrilles may wear _a decolletée_ silk dress with propriety. very stout persons should never wear white. it has the effect of adding to the bulk of the figure. black and scarlet, or black and violet, are worn in mourning. a lady in deep mourning should not dance at all. however fashionable it may be to wear very long dresses, those ladies who go to a ball with the intention of dancing and enjoying the dance, should cause their dresses to be made short enough to clear the ground. we would ask them whether it is not better to accept this slight deviation from an absurd fashion, than to appear for three parts of the evening in a torn and pinned-up skirt? well-made shoes, whatever their colour or material, and faultless gloves, are indispensable to the effect of a ball-room toilette. much jewellery is out of place in a ball-room. beautiful flowers, whether natural or artificial, are the loveliest ornaments that a lady can wear on these occasions. gentlemen. a black suit, thin enamelled boots, a white neckcloth, and white or delicate grey gloves, are the chief points of a gentleman's ball-room toilette. he may wear an embroidered shirt; and his waistcoat may be of silk. white waistcoats are no longer fashionable. much display of jewellery is no proof of good taste. a handsome watch-chain, with, perhaps, the addition of a few costly trifles suspended to it, and a set of shirt-studs, are the only adornments of this kind that a gentleman should wear. the studs should be small, but good.[a] a gentleman's dress is necessarily so simple that it admits of no compromise in point of quality and style. the material should be the best that money can procure, and the fashion unexceptionable. so much of the outward man depends on his tailor, that we would urge no gentleman to economise in this matter. [footnote a: see "etiquette for gentlemen," sec. vii.] * * * * * iii.--etiquette of the ball-room.[a] on entering the ball-room, the visitor should at once seek the lady of the house, and pay his respects to her. having done this, he may exchange salutations with such friends and acquaintances as may be in the room. if the ball be a public one, and a gentleman desires to dance with any lady to whom he is a stranger, he must apply to the master of the ceremonies for an introduction. even in private balls, no gentleman can invite a lady to dance without a previous introduction. this introduction should be effected through the lady of the house, or a member of her family. no lady should accept an invitation to dance from a gentleman to whom she has not been introduced. in case any gentleman should commit the error of so inviting her, she should not excuse herself on the plea of a previous engagement, or of fatigue, as to do so would imply that she did not herself attach due importance to the necessary ceremony of introduction. her best reply would be to the effect that she would have much pleasure in accepting his invitation, if he would procure an introduction to her. this observation may be taken as applying only to public balls. at a private party the host and hostess are sufficient guarantees for the respectability of their guests; and, although a gentleman would show a singular want of knowledge of the laws of society in acting as we have supposed, the lady who should reply to him as if he were merely an impertinent stranger in a public assembly-room, would be implying an affront to her entertainers. the mere fact of being assembled together under the roof of a mutual friend, is in itself a kind of general introduction of the guests to each other. an introduction given for the mere purpose of enabling a lady and gentleman to go through a dance together, does not constitute an acquaintanceship. the lady is at liberty to pass the gentleman in the park the next day without recognition. no gentleman should venture to bow to a lady upon the strength of a ball-room introduction, unless she does him the honour to recognize him first. if he commits this solecism he must not be surprised to find that she does not return his salutation. no gentleman should accept an invitation to a ball if he does not dance. when ladies are present who would be pleased to receive an invitation, those gentleman who hold themselves aloof are guilty, not only of a negative, but a positive act of neglect. to attempt to dance without a knowledge of dancing is not only to make one's self ridiculous, but one's partner also. no lady or gentleman has the right to place a partner in this absurd position. never forget a ball-room engagement. to do so is to commit an unpardonable offence against good breeding. it is not necessary that a lady or gentleman should be acquainted with the _steps_, in order to walk gracefully and easily through a quadrille. an easy carriage and a knowledge of the figure is all that is requisite. a round dance, however, should on no account be attempted without a thorough knowledge of the steps, and some previous practice. no person who has not a good ear for time and tune need hope to dance well. at the conclusion of a dance, the gentleman bows to his partner, and either promenades with her round the room, or takes her to a seat. where a room is set apart for refreshments, he offers to conduct her thither. at a public hall no gentleman would, of course, permit a lady to pay for refreshments. no lady should accept refreshments from a stranger at a public ball; for she would thereby lay herself under a pecuniary obligation. for these she must rely on her father, brothers, or old friends. good taste forbids that a lady and gentleman should dance too frequently together at either a public or private ball. engaged persons should be careful not to commit this conspicuous solecism. engagements for one dance should not be made while the present dance is yet in progress. if a lady happens to forget a previous engagement, and stand up with another partner, the gentleman whom she has thus slighted is bound to believe that she has acted from mere inadvertence, and should by no means suffer his pride to master his good temper. to cause a disagreeable scene in a private ball-room is to affront your host and hostess, and to make yourself absurd. in a public room it is no less reprehensible. always remember that good breeding and good temper (or the appearance of good temper) are inseparably connected. young gentlemen are earnestly advised not to limit their conversation to remarks on the weather and the heat of the room. it is, to a certain extent, incumbent on them to do something more than dance when they invite a lady to join a quadrille. if it be only upon the news of the day, a gentleman should be able to offer at least three or four observations to his partner in the course of a long half-hour. gentlemen who dance cannot be too careful not to injure the dresses of the ladies who do them the honour to stand up with them. the young men of the present day are singularly careless in this respect; and when they have torn a lady's delicate skirt, appear to think the mischief they have done scarcely worth the trouble of an apology. a gentleman conducts his last partner to the supper-room, and, having waited upon her while there, re-conducts her to the ball-room. never attempt to take a place in a dance which has been previously engaged. withdraw from a private ball-room as quietly as possible, so that your departure may not be observed by others, and cause the party to break up. if you meet the lady of the house on her way out, take your leave of her in such a manner that her other guests may not suppose you are doing so; but do not seek her out for that purpose. never be seen without gloves in a ball-room, though it were only for a few moments. those who dance much and are particularly _soigné_ in matters relating to the toilette, take a second pair of gloves to replace the first when soiled. a thoughtful hostess will never introduce a bad dancer to a good one, because she has no right to punish one friend in order to oblige another. it is not customary for married persons to dance together in society. [footnote a: see "etiquette for ladies," and "etiquette for gentlemen," sec. ix.] * * * * * iv.--the quadrille. the quadrille is the most universal, as it is certainly the most sociable, of all fashionable dances. it admits of pleasant conversation, frequent interchange of partners, and is adapted to every age. the young or old, the ponderous _paterfamilias_ or his sylph-like daughter, may with equal propriety take part in its easy and elegant figures. even an occasional blunder is of less consequence in this dance than in many others; for each personage is in some degree free as to his own movements, not being compelled by the continual embrace of his partner to dance either better or worse than he may find convenient. people now generally walk through a quadrille. nothing more than a perfect knowledge of the figure, a graceful demeanour, and a correct ear for the time of the music are requisite to enable any one to take a creditable part in this dance. steps are quite gone out of fashion: even the _chassé_ has been given up for some time past. a quadrille must always consist of five parts. if a variation be made in the fourth figure, by the substitution of _pastorale_ for _trenise_, the latter must then be omitted; or _vice-versâ_. as soon as a gentleman has engaged his partner for the quadrille, he should endeavour to secure as his _vis-à-vis_ some friend or acquaintance; and should then lead his partner to the top of the quadrille, provided that post of honour be still vacant. he will place the lady always at his right hand. quadrille music is divided into eight bars for each part of the figure; two steps should be taken in every bar; every movement thus invariably consists of eight or of four steps. it is well not to learn too many new figures; the memory is liable to become confused amongst them; besides which, it is doubtful whether your partner, or your _vis-à-vis_, is as learned in the matter as yourself. masters are extremely fond of inventing and teaching new figures; but you will do well to confine your attention to a few simple and universally received sets, which you will find quite sufficient for your purpose. we begin with the oldest and most common, the first set of quadrilles. first figure.--le pantalon. the couples at the top and bottom of the quadrille cross to each other's places in eight steps, occupying four bars of the time; then re-cross immediately to their own places, which completes the movement of eight bars. this is called the _chaine anglaise_. the gentleman always keeps to the right of _vis-à-vis_ lady in crossing, thus placing her _inside_. set to partners, or _balances_; turn your partners. (this occupies the second eight bars.) ladies, chain, or _chaine des dames_. (eight bars more.) each couple crosses to opposite couple's place, gentleman giving his hand to his partner: this is called half-promenade. couples recross right and left to their places, without giving hands, which completes another eight bars, and ends the figure. the side couples repeat what the top and bottom couples have done. second figure.--l'eté the ladies in all the top couples, and their _vis-à-vis_ gentlemen, advance four steps, and retire the same, repeating this movement once again, which makes the first eight bars. top ladies and _vis-à-vis_ gentlemen cross to each other's places; advance four steps; retreat ditto; cross back towards partners, who set to them as they advance; turn partners; which ends first half of figure. second ladies and top _vis-à-vis_ gentlemen execute the same movements. then side couples begin, the privilege of commencement being conferred on those ladies who stand at the _right_ of the top couples. this figure is sometimes performed in a different manner, known as double _l'eté_. instead of the top lady and _vis-à-vis_ gentleman advancing alone, they advance with partners joining hands; cross and return, as in the single figure. this variation is, however, somewhat out of vogue, except (as will presently be seen) in the last figure of the quadrille, where it is still frequently introduced. third figure--la poule. top lady and _vis-à-vis_ gentleman cross to each other's places, giving right hand in passing; cross back again with left hand. (eight bars.) the two couples form in a line, and join hands, the left hand of one holding the right hand of his or her neighbour, so that each faces different ways; in this position all four _balancez_, then half promenade with partner to opposite place; top lady and _vis-à-vis_ gentleman advance four steps and retire ditto. ( nd eight bars.) both top and bottom couples advance together, and retire the same; then re-cross right and left to places. ( rd eight bars.) second lady and first opposite gentleman repeat figure. side couples repeat, observing same rule for commencement as in _l'eté_. fourth figure.--la trenise. top couples join hands, advance four steps and retreat ditto: advance again, gentleman leaving lady at left hand of _vis-à-vis_ gentleman, and retiring alone, ( st eight bars.) two ladies advance, crossing to opposite side; gentleman advances to meet his partner, _vis-à-vis_ lady returns to hers. ( nd eight bars.) _balancez_; turn partners to places. ( rd eight bars.) second couple performs same figure; side couples repeat as before. if _la pastorale_ be preferred, it will be performed thus:--top couple advance and retreat; advance, gentleman leading lady to left hand of _vis-à-vis_ gentleman; he advances with both ladies four steps, retreating ditto; again advancing, he leaves both ladies with first gentleman, retreating alone; top gentleman and both ladies advance and retreat; again advance, joining hands in circle, go half round, half promenade to opposite places, then return right and left to their own. second couples and side couples repeat as before. fifth figure.--la finale. begin with the _grand rond_ or great round; that is, the whole quadrille; first and second couples and sides join hands all round, advance four steps, and retreat ditto. _l'eté_ is now sometimes introduced, the _grand rond_ being repeated between each division of the figure. but it gives a greater variety and _brio_ to the quadrille if, after the first _grand rond_, the following figure be performed, the _galop_ step being used throughout. each gentleman (at top and bottom couples) takes his lady round the waist, as for the _galop_; advance four steps, retreat ditto, advance again, cross to opposite places; advance, retreat, re-cross to own places. ladies chain; half promenade across; half right and left to places; _grand rond_. side couples repeat figure. _grand rond_ between each division and at the conclusion. bow to your partners, and conduct your lady to seat. * * * * * v.--the caledonians. this quadrille has, within the last few years become more fashionable than formerly. but it is not so frequently danced as the lancers, still less as the first set of quadrilles. each set can consist only of eight couples, differing in this respect from the simple quadrille, which admits of an indefinite number of couples. _ st figure_.--top and opposite couples hands across; then back again; _balancez_ and turn partners; _chaine des dames_; half promenade across; half right and left to places. _ nd figure_.--top gentleman advances and retreats twice. _balancez_ to corners and turn, each lady passing to her next neighbour's place. having changed your partner, all promenade quite round. second, third, and fourth gentleman repeat same figure; thus all have regained their places. _ rd figure_.--top lady and _vis-à-vis_ gentleman advance and retreat twice. top couple join hands and cross over; opposite couple cross likewise, separately, allowing top couple to pass between them; then top couple re-cross to places separately, leaving the second couple (who re-cross with joined hands) inside. _balancez_ to corners and turn your neighbour's partner; back to places. all four couples, joining hands in circle, advance and retreat twice. same figure repeated by second and side couples. _ th figure_.--top lady and _vis-à-vis_ gentleman advance four steps; second lady and her _vis-à-vis_ then do the same; each couple turns partner back to places. ladies in all four couples move four steps to the right, each taking her neighbour's place; gentlemen then move four steps to the left, each into next neighbour's place. ladies again to the right; gentlemen again to the left. promenade round, turn partners to places. second and side couples repeat in succession. _ th figure_.--first couple promenade round inside the quadrille. four ladies advance, courtesy to each other, and retire; four gentlemen advance, bow, and retire. _balancez_ and turn partners. grand chain half way round. all promenade to places, and turn partners. all _chassez croisez_, ladies right, gentlemen left (behind their partners), and back again to places. second and side couples repeat as before. promenade all round for _finale_. * * * * * vi.--the lancers. the lancers quadrille is perhaps the most graceful and animated of any. within the last few years it has become a great favourite in fashionable circles, probably owing to its revival at the state balls of her majesty. it admits of much skill and elegance in executing its quick and varied figures, a correct acquaintance with which is absolutely requisite to all who take part in it. unlike the common quadrille, the lancers must be danced by four couples only in each set; though of course there can be many sets dancing at the same time. the number being so limited, one awkward or ignorant person confuses the whole set; therefore, it is indispensable that every one who dances in this quadrille should have a thorough mastery of its graceful intricacies. we have observed that of late it has become the fashion to substitute new tunes for the old well-known music of the lancers quadrille. we cannot consider this an improvement. the old simple melodies are peculiarly fitted to the sprightly, joyous character of the dance; which is more than can be said for any of the modern substitutes. when these are used, the lancers, in our opinion, loses its individuality and spirit, becoming almost like a common quadrille. we should be heartily glad to see the old tunes restored once for all to their rightful supremacy. the sets of four couples, top, opposite and sides, having been arranged, the dance begins as follows:--_ st figure_.--first lady and opposite gentleman advance and retreat; advance again, joining their hands; pass round each other and back to places. ( st eight bars.) top couple join hands, and cross, opposite couple crossing at the same time, separately, outside them; the same reversed, back to places. ( nd eight bars.) all the couples _balancez_ to corners; each gentleman turns his neighbour's partner back to places. ( rd eight bars.) second couple repeat figure from beginning; after them side couples, those who stand to the right of top couple having always the priority, as in the common quadrille. _ nd figure_.--first couple advance and retreat, gentleman holding lady's left hand; advance again; gentleman leaves his partner in the centre of the quadrille, and retires to place. ( st eight bars.) _balancez_ to each other and turn to places. ( nd eight bars.) side couples join first and second couples, forming a line of four on either side. each line advances four steps, retreats ditto; then advances again, each gentleman reclaiming his partner, and all turn to places. second and side couples repeat figure in succession. _ rd figure_.--first lady advances four steps alone, and stops; _vis-à-vis_ gentleman does the same; first lady retires, facing gentleman, to whom she makes a slow profound courtesy. (the courtesy must occupy a bar or two of the music; and as, if made with grace and dignity, it is most effective, we would recommend ladies to practise it carefully beforehand.) the gentleman at the same time bows and retires. ( st eight bars.) all four ladies advance to centre, give right hands across to each other (which is called the _double chain_), and left hand to _vis-à-vis_ gentleman; then back again, left hands across in the middle, and right hands to partners, back to places. ( nd eight bars.) second and side couples repeat figure from commencement. a more recent fashion for dancing this figure is as follows:--instead of one lady advancing at first, all four advance, and courtesy to each other; then turn and courtesy to their partners. ladies do the _moulinet_ in the centre; that is, give right hands across to each other, and half round; left hands back again, and return to places. gentlemen meantime all move round outside the ladies, till each has regained his place. figure, as usual, repeated four times; but the second and fourth time the gentlemen advance instead of the ladies, and bow, first to each other, then to their partners; continuing as before through the rest of the figure. _ th figure_.--top gentleman, taking partner's left hand, leads her to the couple on their right, to whom they bow and courtesy (which civility must be met with the like acknowledgment), then cross quickly to fourth couple, and do the same, ( st eight bars.) all four couples _chassez croisez_ right and left (gentleman invariably passing behind his partner) then turn hands (_tour des mains_) back to places. ( nd eight bars.) first and opposite couples right and left across and back again to places. ( rd eight bars.) second and sides repeat as usual. _ th figure_.--this figure commences with the music. each couple should stand ready, the gentleman facing his partner, his right hand holding hers. if every one does not start directly the music begins, and does not observe strict time throughout, this somewhat intricate figure becomes hopelessly embarrassed; but, when well danced, it is the prettiest of the set. it commences with the _grande chaine_ all round; each gentleman giving his right hand to his partner at starting, his left to the next lady, then his right again, and so all round, till all have returned to their places. (this occupies sixteen bars of the music.) first couple promenade inside figure, returning to places with their backs turned to opposite couple. the side couple on their right falls in immediately behind them; the fourth couple follows, the second couple remaining in their places. a double line is thus formed--ladies on one side and gentlemen on the other. ( rd eight bars.) all _chassez croisez_, ladies left, gentlemen right, behind partners. first lady leads off, turning sharply round to the right; first gentleman does the same to the left, meeting at the bottom of the quadrille, and promenade back to places. all the ladies follow first lady; all the gentlemen follow first gentleman; and as each meets his partner at the bottom of the figure, they touch hands, then fall back in two lines--ladies on one side, gentlemen on the other--facing each other. ( th eight bars.) four ladies join hands, advance and retreat; four gentlemen ditto at the same time; then each turns his partner to places. ( th eight bars.) _grande chaine_ again. second and side couples repeat the whole figure in succession, each couple taking its turn to lead off, as the first had done. _grande chaine_ between each figure and in conclusion. * * * * * vii.--the lancers for sixteen, or double lancers. _ st figure_.--two first ladies and _vis-à-vis_ gentlemen begin at the same moment, and go through the figure as in single lancers. all _balancez_ to corners; in other words, each lady sets to gentleman at her right, who turns her to her place. second couples and sides repeat as usual. _ nd figure_.--first couples advance, retreat, advance again, leaving ladies in centre; set to partners and turn to places. two side couples nearest first couples join them; two side couples nearest second couples do the same, thus forming eight in each line. they all advance and retreat, holding hands, then turn partners to places. repeated by second and side couples as usual. _ rd figure_.--first ladies advance and stop; _vis-à-vis_ gentlemen ditto; courtesy profoundly, bow, and back to places. ladies do the _moulinet_, gentlemen go round outside, and back to places. or, ladies advance and courtesy to each other and then to partners; gentlemen, doing the same when the second and fourth couples begin the figure, as in single lancers. _ th figure_.--first couples advance to couples on their right; bow and courtesy; cross to opposite side, bow and courtesy, _chassez croisez_, and return to places. right and left to opposite places, and back again. second couples and sides repeat figure. _ th figure_.--_grande chaine_ all round, pausing at the end of every eight bars to bow and courtesy; continue _chaine_ back to places, which will occupy altogether thirty-two bars of the music. figure almost the same as in single lancers. both first couples lead round, side couples falling in behind, thus forming four sets of lines. figure repeated by second and side couples; _grande chaine_ between each figure and at the conclusion. * * * * * viii.--coulon's double quadrille. this quadrille contains the same figures as the common quadrille, but so arranged that they are danced by four instead of two couples. all quadrille music suits it; and it occupies just half the time of the old quadrille. it makes an agreeable variety in the movements of the dance, and is easily learnt. it requires four couples. first figure.--pantalon. first and second couples right and left, whilst side couples dance the _chaine anglaise_ outside them. all four couples set to partners and turn them. four ladies form ladies' chain, or hands across in the middle of the figure, giving first right hands, and then left, back to places. half promenade, first and second couples do _chaine anglaise_, while side couples do _grand chaine_ round them. this leaves all in their right places, and ends figure. second figure.--l'eté first lady, and lady on her right hand, perform the figure with their _vis-à-vis_ gentlemen, as in common _l'eté_; taking care, when they cross, to make a semicircle to the left. second couple and second side couple repeat figure, as in common. _l'eté_. third figure.--la poule. top lady and _vis-à-vis_ gentleman, lady at her right, and her opposite gentleman, perform figure at the same time, setting to each other in two cross lines. other couples follow as usual. fourth figure.--la pastorale. the first and opposite couples dance the figure, not with each other, but with the couples to their right. the latter do the same with first and second couples. fifth figure.--finale. galopade all round. top and opposite couples galopade forwards, and retreat. as they retreat side couples advance; and, as they retreat in their turn, first and second couples galopade to each others place. side couples the same. first and second couples advance again; side couples the same as the others retreat; first and second back to places as side couples retreat. side couples back to places. double _chaine des dames_, and galopade all round. then side couples repeat figure as usual, and _galop_ all round in conclusion. it is requisite to keep correct time and step in this quadrille, which would otherwise become much confused. * * * * * ix.--the polka. the origin of this once celebrated dance is difficult to ascertain. it is believed by some to be of great antiquity, and to have been brought into germany from the east. others affirm that its origin is of more recent date, and its birthplace considerably nearer home. an authority on these matters remarks; "in spite of what those professors say who proclaim themselves to have learnt the polka in germany, or as being indebted for it to a hungarian nobleman, we are far from placing confidence in their assertions. in our opinion paris is its birthplace, and its true author, undoubtedly, the now far-famed monsieur cellarius, for whom this offspring of his genius has gained a european celebrity." whatever we may be inclined to believe with regard to this disputed question, there can be no doubt of the wide-spread popularity which for many years was enjoyed by the polka. when first introduced, in , it was received with enthusiasm by every capital in europe; and it effected a complete revolution in the style of dancing which had prevailed up to that period. a brisk, lively character was imparted even to the steady-going quadrille; the old _valse à trois temps_ was pronounced insufferably "slow;" and its brilliant rival, the _valse à deux temps_, which had been recently introduced, at once established the supremacy which it has ever since maintained. the _galop_, which had been until this period only an occasional dance, now assumed a prominent post in every ball-room, dividing the honours with the _valse_. but all these dances, though modified in character by the introduction of the polka, were for a time thrown into the shade by this new claimant upon public favour. its popularity was unrivalled in the annals of dancing. rich and poor, young and old, grave and gay, all were alike smitten by the universal polka mania. all flocked to take lessons in this new and fascinating dance; and the professors of its mysteries fairly divided public attention with the members of the anti-corn-law league, then holding their meetings at drury lane theatre. we will even go so far as to say that messrs. bright and cobden were scarcely more anxious to destroy the vexatious corn laws than were these worthy polka-maniacs to create _corn_ laws of their own, which, if more innocent, were equally undesirable. for many years the polka maintained its position as the universal favourite; but, during the last five or six seasons, its popularity has slowly but surely declined. it is never danced now in the ball-rooms of the aristocracy, but the middle classes have not yet quite discarded their old friend, though even amongst their programmes its name rarely occurs. perhaps no dance affords greater facilities for the display of ignorance or skill, elegance or vulgarity, than the polka. the step is simple and easily acquired, but the method of dancing it varies _ad infinitum_. some persons race and romp through the dance in a manner fatiguing to themselves and dangerous to their fellow-dancers. others (though this is more rare) drag their partner listlessly along, with a sovereign contempt alike for the requirements of the time and the spirit of the music. some gentlemen hold their partner so tight that she is half suffocated; others hold her so loosely that she continually slips away from them. all these extremes are equally objectionable, and defeat the graceful intention of the dance. it should be performed quietly, but with spirit, and _always in strict time_. the head and shoulders should be kept still, not jerked and turned at every step, as is the manner of some. the feet should glide swiftly along the floor--not hopping or jumping as if the boards were red-hot. you should clasp your partner lightly but firmly round the waist with your right arm. your left hand takes her right hand; but beware of elevating your arm and hers in the air, or holding them out straight, which suggests the idea of windmills. above all, never place your left hand on your hip or behind you. in the first place, you thus drag your partner too much forward, which makes her look ungraceful; in the next, this attitude is _never used_ except in casinos, and it is almost an insult to introduce it in a respectable ball-room. let the hand which clasps your partner's fall easily by your side in a natural position, and keep it there. your partner's left hand rests on your right shoulder; her right arm is thrown a little forward towards your left. the polka is danced in / time. there are three steps in each bar; the fourth beat is always a rest. the rhythm of the dance may be thus indicated:-- [illustration] the three steps being performed on the three first beats of every bar. it is next to impossible to describe in words the step of the polka, or of any circular dance: nothing but example can correctly teach it; and, although we shall do our best to be as clear as possible, we would earnestly recommend those of our readers who desire to excel, whether in this or the following dances, to take a few lessons from some competent instructor. the gentleman starts with his left foot, the lady with her right. we shall describe the step as danced by the gentleman: the same directions, reversing the order of the feet, will apply to the lady. _ st beat_.--spring slightly on right foot, at the same time slide left foot forward. _ nd beat_.--bring right foot forward by _glissade_, at the same time rising left foot. _ rd beat_.--bring left foot slightly forward and _fall_ upon it, leaving right foot raised, and the knee slightly bent, ready to begin the step at the first beat of the next bar. _ th beat_.--remain on left foot. begin next bar with the right foot, and repeat the step to end of third beat. begin the following bar with left foot; and so on; commencing each bar with right or left foot alternately. the polka is danced with a circular movement, like the valse; in each bar you half turn, so that, by the end of the second bar, you have brought your partner completely round. it was at first customary to promenade your partner round the room, doing a kind of _balancez_ to each other in the polka step before commencing the valse figure. but this fashion soon became antiquated, and has fallen into complete disuse. the circular movement of the polka admits of two directions--from right or left or from left to right. the ordinary direction is from right to left. the opposite one is known as the _reverse_ step. it is more difficult to execute, but is a pleasant change for skilled dancers, if they have become giddy from turning too long in one direction. in dancing the polka, or any circular dance where a large number of couples are performing at the same time, the gentleman must be careful to steer his fair burden safely through the mazes of the crowded ball-room. a little watchfulness can almost always avoid collisions, and a good dancer would consider himself disgraced if any mishap occurred to a lady under his care. keep a sharp look out, and avoid crowded corners. should so many couples be dancing as to render such caution impossible, stop at once, and do not go on until the room has become somewhat cleared. in a few minutes others will have paused to rest, and you can then continue. your partner will be grateful that your consideration has preserved her from the dismal plight in which we have seen some ladies emerge from this dance--their _coiffeurs_ disordered, their dresses torn, and their cheeks crimson with fatigue and mortification, while their indignant glances plainly showed the anger they did not care to express in words, and which their reckless partner had fully deserved. a torn dress is sometimes not the heaviest penalty incurred: we have known more than one instance where ladies have been lamed for weeks through the culpable carelessness of their partners, their tender feet having been half crushed beneath some heavy boot in one of these awkward collisions. this is a severe price to pay for an evening's amusement, and gentlemen are bound to be cautious how they inflict it, or anything approaching to it, upon their fair companions. ladies, on the other hand, will do well to remember that by leaning heavily upon their partner's shoulder, dragging back from his encircling arm or otherwise impeding the freedom of his movements, they materially add to his labour and take from his pleasure in the dance. they should endeavour to lean as lightly, and give as little trouble, as possible; for, however flattering to the vanity of the nobler sex may be the idea of feminine dependence, we question whether the reality, in the shape of a dead weight upon their aching arms throughout a polka or valse of twenty minutes' duration, would be acceptable to even the most chivalrous amongst them. we have been thus minute in our instructions, because they not only apply to the polka, but equally to all circular dances where a great number stand up to dance at the same time. we now pass on to the * * * * * x.--cellarius valse. sometimes called the mazourka, though generally best known by the name of its inventor, m. cellarius, of paris. it was imported to england in , two years after the introduction of the polka; and, although it never attained so great a popularity as its predecessor, it was favourably received, and much danced in the best circles. still it failed to achieve the decided success which might have been reasonably expected from its elegance and beauty. perhaps one reason of this disappointing result was that many inefficient performers attempted to dance it before they had mastered its somewhat difficult step, and brought it into disrepute by their ungraceful exhibitions. but the grand secret of its partial failure lay in the mania for rapid whirling dances, introduced by the polka. while the rage for "fast dancing" continued, the measured grace of the cellarius stood no chance. now that it has at last happily abated, people are better prepared to appreciate the refined and quiet charm of this really beautiful valse. to dance it well requires some practice; and particular attention must be paid to the carriage and position of the figure, since no dance is more thoroughly spoiled by an awkward, stiff, or stooping attitude. we proceed to describe the step, so far as it may be possible to do so in words; but we have an uneasy consciousness that all such descriptions bear a close resemblance to those contained in certain little volumes designed to instruct our fair readers in the mysteries of knitting, netting, and crochet. "slip two, miss one, bring one forward," &c., may convey to the mind of the initiated a distinct idea of the pattern of a collar; but are hardly satisfactory guides to the step of a valse. we must, however, do our best; though again we would impress upon the reader the necessity of seeking further instruction from a professor or experienced friend. the time of the cellarius valse is / , like the common valse; but it should be played much more slowly; if danced quickly, it becomes an unmeaning succession of hops, and its graceful character is destroyed. we describe the step as danced by the lady; for the gentleman it will be the same, with the feet reversed; that is, for right foot read left, and so on. first step. _ st and nd beat_.--spring on left foot, sliding forward right foot at the same time, and immediately let your weight rest on the forward foot. this occupies two beats. _ rd beat_.--spring on right foot; this ends the bar. _ nd bar, st and nd beat_.--spring again on right foot, and slide forward left at same time. rest on it a moment as before during second beat; at third beat spring on it; which ends second bar. continue same step throughout. you will perceive that, at the first and third beat of the time, you hop slightly, resting, during the second beat, on the foremost foot. second step. _ st beat_.--spring on left foot, slightly striking both heels together. _ nd beat_.--slide right foot to the right, bending the knee. _ rd beat_.--bring left foot up to right foot with a slight spring, raising right foot; which ends the first bar. _ nd bar, st beat_.--spring again on left foot, striking it with heel of right. _ nd beat_.--slide right foot to the right. _ rd beat_.--fall on right foot, raising left foot behind it, which ends the second bar. reverse the step by springing first on the right foot, and sliding the left, &c. the music generally indicates that this step should be repeated three times to the right, which occupies three bars; then _rest_, during the fourth bar, and return with reverse step to the left during the three bars which follow, resting again at the eighth bar. third step _ st beat_.--spring on left foot, and slide right foot to the right. _ nd beat_.--rest on right foot. _ rd beat_.--spring on right foot, bringing left up behind it. _ nd bar, st beat_.--spring on right foot, sliding left foot to the left. _ nd beat_.--rest on left foot. _ rd beat_.--hop on left foot, bringing right behind it as before. continue at pleasure. the first of these three steps is most commonly used in the valse; but the second is an agreeable change for those who may have grown giddy or weary in doing the _figure en tournant_ (circular movement). be careful not to exaggerate the slight hop at the first and third beats of each bar; and to _slide_ the foot gracefully forward, not merely to make a step, as some bad dancers do. * * * * * xi.--the mazourka quadrille. those who have mastered the steps of the cellarius will find little trouble in dancing this elegant quadrille. it has five figures, and can be performed by any even number of couples. the music, like the step, is that of the mazourka. the couples are arranged as in the ordinary quadrille. join hands all round; _grand rond_ to the left (four bars), then back again to the right (four bars), employing the _second_ step of the cellarius. each couple does the _petit tour_ forwards, and backwards, still using the second step, and repeating it three times to the right--then resting a bar; three times to the left--then resting another bar; which occupies eight bars of the music. these figures may be considered as preliminary. we find the quadrille itself so well described in the work of a contemporary, that we cannot do better than extract the account in full, for the benefit of our readers. _ st figure_.--top and bottom couples right and left (eight bars), with redowa steps;[a] then they advance, the ladies cross over, the gentleman meanwhile pass quickly round each other, and return to own places (four bars); _petit tour_ forward with opposite ladies (four bars); right and left (eight bars); advance again; the ladies return to own places, and the gentlemen pass again round each other to their own ladies (four bars); _petit tour_ backward (four bars). side couples do likewise. _ nd figure_.--(eight bars rest.) top and bottom couples advance and retire, hands joined (four bars). all cross over into opposite places, each going to each other's left (four bars); _petit tour_ forward (four bars); advance and retire (four bars), and return to places (four bars); _petit tour_ (four bars). side couples do likewise. _ rd figure_.--(eight bars rest.) top and bottom ladies cross over into opposite places (four bars); return, presenting left hands to each other, and right hands to partners, as in _la poule_ (four bars); pass round with partners into opposite places (four bars); _petit tour_ backward (four bars); _vis-à-vis_ couples hands across, round (six bars); retire (two bars); top and bottom ladies cross over (four bars); ladies cross again, giving each other left hands, and right to partners (four bars). all pass round to own places (four bars); _petit tour_ backward (four bars). _ th figure_.--(eight bars rest.) top couple lead round inside the figure (eight bars); _petit tour_ forward and backward (eight bars); advance to opposite couple; the gentleman turns half round without quitting his partner, and gives his left hand to opposite lady; the two ladies join hands behind gentleman (four bars); in this position the three advance and retire (eight bars). the gentleman passes under the ladies' arms; all three pass round to the left, with second step of cellarius, the opposite lady finishing in her own place (four bars). the top couple return to places (four bars); _petit tour_ forward (four bars). opposite couple and side couples do likewise. _ th figure_.--(eight bars rest.) top and bottom couples half right and left (four bars); _petit tour_ backward (four bars); half right and left to places (four bars); _petit tour_ backward (four bars); _vis-à-vis_ couples hands round to opposite places (four bars); _petit tour_ forward (four bars); hands round to own places (four bars); _petit tour_ (four bars); right and left (eight bars). side couples do likewise. _finale_. grand round all to the left, and then to the right (sixteen bars); grand chain, as in the lancers, with first step of cellarius (sixteen bars). but if there are more than eight in the quadrille, the music must be continued until all have regained their places. n.b.--music continues during rest. [footnote a: this step will be found farther on in the book, under the head of the redowa valse.] * * * * * xii.--the polka mazourka. the step of this dance is, as its implies, a mixture of the steps of the polka and the mazourka. it is a favourite dance with the parisians, but has never been very popular in england, probably from the same reasons which prevented the success of the cellarius. yet it is a pretty dance, and the step is easily acquired. we recommend it to the attention of our readers. the time is / , and quicker than that of the cellarius. gentleman takes his partner as in the valse. _figure en tournant_. we describe the steps for the gentleman; the lady simply reverses the order of the feet, using left foot for right throughout. _ st beat_.--rest on right foot, with left foot a little raised behind, and slide left foot to the left. _ nd beat_.--spring on the right foot, bringing it up to where the left foot is, and raising the latter in front. _ rd beat_.--spring once more on right foot, passing left foot behind without touching the ground with it; this ends first bar. _ nd bar, st beat_.--slide left foot to the left, as before. _ nd beat_.--spring on right foot, as before, and bring it up to the place of left foot, raising latter at same moment. _ rd beat_.--fall on the left foot, and raise the right foot behind; end of second bar. begin third bar with right foot, and continue as before. you turn half round in the first three beats, and complete the circle in the second three. * * * * * xiii.--the redowa, or redova. the step of this valse somewhat resembles that of the cellarius, and is used, as we have seen, in dancing the mazourka quadrille. it is an elegant valse, not so lively as the polka mazourka, but, if danced in correct time, not too slowly, is very graceful and pleasing. the step is not so difficult as that of the cellarius; it is almost a _pas de basque_, with the addition of the hop. in all these dances, which partake of the nature of the mazourka, it is requisite to mark distinctly the first and third beats of every bar, otherwise the peculiar character of the movement is completely lost. we describe the step for the lady as it is employed in the forward movement. _ st beat_.--stand with right foot slightly forward; spring upon it, bringing it behind left foot, which is raised at same moment. _ nd beat_.--slide your left foot forward, bending the knee. _ rd beat_.--bring your right foot, with a slight hop, up behind your left foot, raising the latter and keeping it in front. (one bar.) _ st beat_.--spring upon your left foot, passing it behind your right, and raising latter. _ nd beat_.--slide right foot forward, bending the knee. _ rd beat_.--bring left foot up to right, with slight hop, and raise right foot at same moment, keeping it in front as before. when the _figure en tournant_ (circular movement) is employed, the lady begins by sliding the left foot forward, and the right foot backward. gentleman always does the same, with order of feet reversed. this dance has been very popular in paris; in england it is now seldom seen. * * * * * xiv.--the schottische. the schottische was introduced amongst us about the same time as the polka mazourka, but it received a much more cordial welcome, and has always been popular in england. its origin is as uncertain as that of the polka, and it is believed to be a very ancient national dance. it is a great favourite with the german peasantry; and although its name, _schottische_, would seem to imply that it came from scotland, there is no doubt that it is essentially german alike in character and in music. the step, although easy to learn, requires great precision. we would recommend our readers to adhere throughout to the circular movement. some dancers begin by four steps to the right, then back again, not turning until they commence the second half of the figure. but when many couples are dancing this practice involves a risk of collisions, and it is safer to begin at once with the _figure en tournant_. the second part of the step consists of a series of slight hops, which must be made exactly at the same moment by both parties, otherwise a break-down is inevitable. they should be executed as quickly as possible, so as to avoid the _jigging_ effect which bad dancers impart to the schottische. when well performed it is a very animated and elegant dance, forming an agreeable variety to the polka and valse. the time is / ; it should be played a good deal slower than the polka; when hurried it becomes ungraceful and vulgar. the first and third beat in each bar should be slightly marked. we proceed to describe the step as danced by the gentleman. slide the left foot forward; bring right foot close up behind left foot. slide left foot forward a second time. spring upon left foot. then do the same with right foot. having completed four steps, first with the left foot, and then with the right, you come to the second part, which consists of a series of double hops, two on each foot alternately. hop twice on the left foot (one hop for each beat of the time), and half turn round; then twice on the right, completing the circular movement. repeat the same through another four beats; then resume first step through the next two bars, and continue to alternate them every second bar. you can also vary the dance at pleasure, by continuing the first step without changing it for the hops; or you can likewise continue these throughout several bars in succession; taking care, of course, to apprise your partner of your intention. even when well and quietly danced, there is something undignified in the hopping movement of the second step; and we have observed with satisfaction that for some time past it has been replaced by the step of the _valse à deux temps_, which is now generally used instead of the double hops. * * * * * xv.--la varsovienne. this is a round dance for two, which, like the polka mazourka, is a combination of the steps of one or two other dances. since the introduction of the polka and the cellarius, several dances have been invented which partake largely of the character of both. la varsovienne is very graceful, and was popular in england a few years ago. it is not often danced now. take your partner as for the valse. count three in each bar. time much the same as in polka mazourka. the music is generally divided into parts of sixteen bars each. the steps for the gentleman is as follows in the first part:-- slide left foot to the left; slightly spring forward with right foot, twice, leaving the left foot raised behind, in readiness for next step, ( st bar.) repeat the same. ( nd bar.) one polka step, during which turn. ( rd bar.) bring your right foot to the second position, and wait a whole bar. ( th bar.) resume first step with right foot, and repeat throughout, reversing order of feet. lady, as usual, begins with her right foot, doing the same step. _second step in second part. st bar_.--gentleman, beginning with his left foot, does one polka step to the left, turning partner. _ nd bar_.--bring right foot to the second position, and bend towards it; wait a whole bar. _ rd bar_.--one polka step with right foot to the right, turning partner. _ th bar_.--left foot to second position; bend towards it, and wait as before. _third part_.--take three polka steps to the left. (this occupies three bars.) bring right foot to second position, and wait one bar. repeat the same, beginning with right foot to the right. * * * * * xvi.--the gorlitza. this is a polish round dance for two, which was brought over to london from paris in . like the varsovienne, it is now seldom seen beyond the walls of the dancing academy. perhaps one reason of its short-lived popularity is to be found in the fact that it is rather troublesome to learn, the steps being changed continually. the time is the same as that of the schottische, but not quite so quick. take your position as for the polka. _ st bar_.--one polka step to the left, beginning with left foot, and turning half round. _ nd bar_.--slide your right foot to right, bring left foot up close behind it, as in the fifth position; make a _glissade_ with your right foot, ending with your left in front. _ rd bar_.--spring on your right foot, raising your left in front. fall on your left foot, passing it behind your right foot. _glissade_ to right with right foot, ending with left in front. _ th bar_.--again spring on right foot, raising left in front. fall on left foot, passing it behind right. _glissade_ to right, with your right foot; end with same foot in front. then repeat from beginning during the next four bars, but the second time be careful to end with the left foot in front. during the last two bars you turn round, but do not move forward. the step for the lady is the same, with the order of the feet, as usual, reversed; except, however, in the last two bars of this figure, which both begin with the same foot. the gorlitza, like the preceding dance, is divided into parts. the first part occupies eight bars of the music; the second, sixteen bars. the step for the second part is as follows:-- _ st four bars_.--commence with polka mazurka step, with left foot to the left, and turn half round. then do the step of the cellarius to the right, beginning with the right foot; fall on left foot, keeping it behind right foot; _glissade_ with right foot, and end with same in front. _ nd four bars_.--polka mazurka, with right foot to the right, and turn half round. cellarius step, with left foot to the left. fall on right foot, keeping it behind; _glissade_ with left foot, bringing it behind. repeat from beginning, which completes the sixteen bars of second half of the figure. lady does the same steps, with order of feet reversed. * * * * * xvii.--the valse a trois temps twenty years ago, the valse (or, as it was then pronounced, _waltz_) was a stately measure, danced with gravity and deliberation. each couple wheeled round and round with dignified composure, never interrupting the monotony of the dance by any movements forward or backward. they consequently soon became giddy, although the music was not played above half as fast as the valse music of our day. we are bound to admit that this stately fashion of waltzing was infinitely more graceful than the style which has superseded it. but, having confessed so much, we may venture to add that the valse, as danced by the present generation, possesses a spirit, lightness, and variety quite unknown to its stately predecessor. the old waltz was introduced into this country from germany, where it has always been the favourite dance of the people in all ranks and conditions. but, although we adopted the step of their national waltz, we so entirely altered the time, that it became in our hands a totally different dance, which the germans themselves would have found it difficult to recognize. at that period, "fast dancing" was unknown in england, and would have been regarded as highly indecorous. at its first introduction, the waltz was received with great mistrust by the older portion of the community. if it was to be tolerated at all in correct society, it must at least be danced in a deliberate manner, consonant with the dignity of the english character. it was, therefore, taken at half its original _temps_; it ceased to be the giddy, intoxicating whirl in which the germans delight, and subsided into the comparatively insipid and spiritless affair known thirty years ago as the "german waltz." we have already seen how complete was the revolution effected by the polka in these old-fashioned ideas. but, although we cannot regret the introduction of a more animated style of dancing, we are sorry that the old waltz has been so entirely given up. when restored to its original _temps_, the _valse à trois temps_ is nearly as spirited as the _valse à deux_; and twice as graceful. it has the additional advantage over the latter, that it contains in each bar three steps to three beats of the time; whereas the _deux temps_, as its name implies, numbers only two steps in a bar of three notes; and is thus incorrect in time. we venture to predict that the old waltz will, at no distant day, be restored to public favour. we shall be heartily glad to welcome it once more, but on the condition that it shall be danced in the only manner which does justice to all its attractions; that is, as it is danced by the german peasants under the wide-spreading oaks of its own fatherland. we proceed to describe the step for the gentleman: the same, beginning with right foot instead of left, will apply to the lady. gentleman takes his partner round the waist with his right arm; his left hand holds hers, as in the polka. lady places left hand on his shoulder, and right hand in his left hand. begin at once with the _figure en tournant_. time / ; one step to each beat. first beat in each bar should be slightly marked by the dancers. _ st beat_.--slide left foot backwards, towards the left. _ nd beat_.--slide your right foot past your left in same direction, keeping right foot behind left, and turning slightly to the right. _ rd beat_.--bring left foot up behind right (one bar). _ st beat_.--slide right foot forward towards the right. _ nd beat_.--slide left foot forward, still turning towards right. _ rd beat_.--bring right foot up to right, turning on both feet, so as to complete the circle (two bars). remember to finish with right foot in front. repeat from first beat of first bar. gentleman always turns from left to right; lady from right to left. the step of the old waltz is simple enough; nevertheless some practice is required to dance it really well. remember always to _slide_, not to _step_, forward; for the beauty of this valse consists in its gliding motion. it is not at first easy to dance swiftly and quietly at the same time; but a little patience will soon enable you to conquer that difficulty, and to do full justice to what is, in our opinion, the most perfectly graceful of all the round dances, without a single exception. * * * * * xviii.--the valse À deux temps. we are indebted to the mirth-loving capital of austria for this brilliant valse, which was, as we have observed elsewhere, introduced to our notice shortly before the polka appeared in england, and owed its popularity to the revolution in public taste effected by that dance. although the polka has gone out of fashion, the _valse à deux temps_ still reigns supreme; but within the last two years a dangerous rival has arisen, which may perhaps drive it in its turn from the prominent position which, for more than twenty seasons, it has maintained. this rival is the new valse, of which we shall speak in its place; but we must now describe the step of the _valse à deux temps_. we have already remarked that this valse is incorrect in time. two steps can never properly be made to occupy the space of three beats in the music. the ear requires that each beat shall have its step; unless, as in the cellarius, an express pause be made on one beat. this inaccuracy in the measure has exposed the _valse à deux temps_ to the just censure of musicians, but has never interfered with its success among dancers. we must caution our readers, however, against one mistake often made by the inexperienced. they imagine that it is unnecessary to observe any rule of time in this dance, and are perfectly careless whether they begin the step at the beginning, end, or middle of the bar. this is quite inadmissible. every bar must contain within its three beats two steps. these steps must begin and end strictly with the beginning and end of each bar; otherwise a hopeless confusion of the measure will ensue. precision in this matter is the more requisite, because of the peculiarity in the measure. if the first step in each bar be not strongly marked, the valse measure has no chance of making itself apparent; and the dance becomes a meaningless _galop_. the step contains two movements, a _glissade_ and a _chassez_, following each other quickly in the same direction. gentleman begins as usual with his left foot; lady with her right. _ st beat_.--_glissade_ to the left with left foot. _ nd and rd beats_.--_chassez_ in the same direction with right foot; do not turn in this first bar. _ nd bar, st beat_.--slide right foot backwards, turning half round. _ nd and rd beat_.--pass left foot behind right, and _chassez_ forward with it, turning half round to complete the _figure en tournant_. finish with right foot in front, and begin over again with left foot. there is no variation in this step; but you can vary the movement by going backwards or forwards at pleasure, instead of continuing the rotatory motion. the _valse à deux temps_, like the polka, admits of a reverse step; but it is difficult, and looks awkward unless executed to perfection. the first requisite in this valse is to avoid all jumping movements. the feet must glide smoothly and swiftly over the floor, and be raised from it as little as possible. being so very quick a dance, it must be performed quietly, otherwise it is liable to become ungraceful and vulgar. the steps should be short, and the knees slightly bent. as the movement is necessarily very rapid, the danger of collisions is proportionately increased; and gentlemen will do well to remember and act upon the cautions contained in the previous pages of this book, under the head of "the polka". they should also be scrupulous not to attempt to conduct a lady through this valse until they have thoroughly mastered the step and well practised the _figure en tournant_. awkwardness or inexperience doubles the risks of a collision; which, in this extremely rapid dance, might be attended with serious consequences. the _deux temps_ is a somewhat fatiguing valse, and after two or three turns round the room, the gentleman should pause to allow his partner to rest. he should be careful to select a lady whose height does not present too striking a contrast to his own; for it looks ridiculous to see a tall man dancing with a short woman, or _vice versâ_. this observation applies to all round dances, but especially to the valse, in any of its forms. * * * * * xix.--the new valse. this graceful variation of the valse movement has not long been introduced into england, and is not yet so universally popular as it promises to become. it was, however, much danced in london last year, and there is reason to believe that it will be the favourite dance this season. it is more elegant than the _valse à deux temps_, and more spirited than the cellarius. the _tempo_ is slower than that of the ordinary valse. the step is extremely simple. gentleman takes his partner as for the _valse à deux temps_. fall on the left foot, and make two _glissades_ with the right ( st bar). repeat, reversing order of feet ( nd bar). lady begins with her right foot as usual. the step is the same throughout. _figure en tournant_. the peculiarity of this valse lies in its accent, which cannot be properly explained in words, but must be seen to be understood. we recommend our readers to lose no time in acquiring a correct knowledge of the new valse. it is unquestionably the most easy and most graceful dance which has appeared of late years, and we are told on first-rate authority that it is destined to a long career of triumphs. * * * * * xx.--le galop. the galop, as its name implies, is the quintessence of all the "fast" dances. at the time of the polka mania it was very much in vogue, and was almost as great a favourite as the _deux temps_. although its popularity has greatly declined of late, it generally occurs twice or thrice in the programme of every ball-room; and the music of the galop is, like the dance itself, so gay and spirited, that we should regret to see it wholly laid aside. the step is similar to that of the _deux temps_ valse, but the time is / , and as quick as possible. two _chassez_ steps are made in each bar. the figure can be varied by taking four or eight steps in the same direction, or by turning with every two steps, as in the _deux temps_. like all round dances, it admits of an unlimited number of couples. being, perhaps, the most easy of any, every one takes part in it, and the room is generally crowded during its continuance. a special amount of care is therefore necessary on the part of the gentleman to protect his partner from accidents. we have now described all the round dances at present in vogue. * * * * * xxi.--the cotillon. the cotillon is rarely seen in english ball-rooms, but on the continent, especially in italy, it is a great favourite. it occupies a somewhat similar position to our own sir roger de coverley, being generally the concluding dance of the evening, in which every one joins. it can be prolonged at pleasure by the introduction of more figures, for it has no definite beginning or end. it is, in fact, more like a long game performed to the accompaniment of valse music than a dance. we shall describe the cotillon as we have seen it in the palaces of italy, where it is danced with enthusiasm, and diversified by an innumerable variety of figures, only a few of which we can undertake to remember. it is never commenced till towards the close of the ball, at so advanced an hour that all the sober portion of the assembly have retired, and only the real lovers of dancing remain, who sometimes prolong this their favourite amusement till a late hour in the morning. it is customary for gentlemen to select their partners for the cotillon early in the evening, while the other dances are in progress; for, as it lasts so long a time, it is necessary to know beforehand how many ladies feel inclined to remain during its continuance. a circle of chairs is arranged round the room, the centre being left clear; the spectators stand behind the chairs, so as not to interfere with the dancers. each gentleman leads his partner to a seat, taking another beside her. to these same seats they return after every figure, it being the etiquette of the dance that no couple should appropriate any chairs but their own, taken at the commencement. when the dancers are arranged round the room, the orchestra strikes up the spirited music of the cotillon, which consists of a long series of valse movements at the usual _tempo_ of the _deux temps_. there are generally several leaders of the cotillon, who decide upon the succession of the figures. if there are many couples dancing, one leader attends upon a group of six or eight couples, to ensure that all shall take part. we are aware of no fixed rule for the succession of the figures, which depends upon the caprice of the leaders. a good leader will invent new combinations, or diversify old figures; thus securing an almost endless variety. one of the most popular is the following:-- several gentlemen assume the names of flowers or plants, such as the honeysuckle, woodbine, ivy, &c. a lady is then requested to name her favourite flower; and the fortunate swain who bears its name springs forward and valses off with her in triumph. it is usual to make one, or at most two, turns round the room, and then restore the lady to her own partner, who in the meantime has perhaps been the chosen one of another lady. all having regained their places, each gentleman valses with his own partner once round the room, or remains sitting by her side, as she may feel inclined. baskets filled with small bouquets are brought in. each gentleman provides himself with a bouquet, and presents it to the lady with whom he wishes to valse. sometimes a light pole or staff is introduced, to the top of which are attached long streamers of different coloured ribbons. a lady takes one of these to several of her fair companions in turn, each of whom chooses a ribbon, and, holding it firmly in her hand, follows the leading lady to the room. here they are met by an equal number of gentlemen, likewise grouped around a leader who carries the pole, while each holds a streamer of his favourite colour, or that which he imagines would be selected by the _dame de ses pensées_. the merry groups compare notes: those who possess streamers of the same colour pair off in couples, and valse gaily round the room, returning to places as before. six or eight ladies and the same number of gentlemen form in two lines, facing each other. the leading lady throws a soft worsted ball of bright colours at the gentleman with whom she wishes to dance. he catches it, throws it back to the fair group, and valses off with his partner. whoever catches the returning ball, has the right to throw next; and the same ceremony is repeated until all have chosen their partners, with whom they valse round the room, returning to places as usual. sometimes a handkerchief is substituted for the ball; but the latter is better, being more easily thrown and caught. six or eight chairs are placed in a circle, the backs turned inwards. ladies seat themselves in the chairs, gentlemen move slowly round in front of them. each lady throws her handkerchief or bouquet at the gentleman with whom she wishes to dance as he passes before her. valse round as usual and return to places. sometimes a gentleman is blindfolded, and placed in a chair. two ladies take a seat on either side of him; and he is bound to make his selection without seeing the face of his partner. having done so, he pulls the covering from his eyes, and valses off with her. it is a curious circumstance that mistakes seldom occur, the gentleman being generally sufficiently _clairvoyant_ to secure the partner he desires. we have here described a few of the most striking figures of the cotillon. we might multiply them to an extent which would equally tax the patience of our readers and our own powers of remembrance; but we forbear. enough has been told to show the graceful, coquettish character of the dance, which adapts itself admirably to the italian nature, and is as much beloved by them as the valse by the germans or the cachucha by the dark-eyed maidens of spain. we should rejoice to see this charming stranger naturalised in english ball-rooms. it is especially adapted to sociable gatherings, where most of the guests are friends or acquaintances. * * * * * xxii.--the spanish dance. this pretty though now somewhat old-fashioned dance was, before the introduction of the _deux temps_ and polka, a principal feature in every ball-room. it is danced with the step and music of the old _valse à trois temps_, played slower than the music of the _deux temps_. sometimes the couples stand in two long parallel lines, as in a country dance; sometimes they are arranged in a circle. the leading gentleman must be on the ladies' side, and his partner on the gentleman's side. every fourth lady and gentleman exchange places, to avoid the necessity of keeping the other couples waiting. the whole set can thus begin at the same moment. leading gentleman and _second_ lady advance and retreat with valse step, and change places. leading lady and second gentleman do the same at the same time. leading gentleman and his partner advance and retreat, and change places. second lady and gentleman do the same at same time. leading gentleman and second lady repeat this figure; first lady and second gentleman likewise, at same time. leading gentleman and first lady repeat same figure; second gentleman and lady repeat at same time. all four, joining hands, advance to centre, and retreat. ladies pass to the left. repeat three times. each gentleman takes his partner, and the two couples valse round each other once or twice at pleasure; the second lady and gentleman being left at the top of the figure, as in a country dance. leading gentleman and partner repeat same figure with succeeding couple to end of dance. it is obvious that there must be an equal number of couples; and that they must be arranged in sets of four, eight, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four, and so on. * * * * * xxiii.--la tempÊte. la tempête was brought over to this country from paris some years ago. it speedily became a favourite, and for several seasons was much danced in london and the provinces. it unites the cheerfulness of the quadrille with the sociability of the country dance; and when its lively figures are correctly performed, it is both amusing and animated. it is divided into parties of four couples, like the quadrille; but their arrangement is different. two couples stand side by side, facing their respective _vis-à-vis_; there are not any side couples. as many sets of four couples can be thus arranged as the room will accommodate. each new set turns its back upon the second line of the preceding set. thus the dance can be the whole length of the room, but is only the breadth of two couples. the figure is as follows:-- place two couples side by side, the lady standing at the right hand of the gentleman. place two other couples as their _vis-à-vis_. next place two couples with their backs turned to the first set; two couples opposite them for their _vis-à-vis_; and continue arranging more sets of four couples according to the number of the dancers and the size of the room. _first part_.--all the couples begin at the same moment, by advancing and retreating twice, with joined hands. first couples (that is, all whose backs are turned to the top of the room) cross, with hands joined, to the places of their _vis-à-vis_. the latter cross at the same time, but, separating, pass outside top couples to the top, where they join hands, return to own places, and back again to the top without separating; the top couples crossing separately at the same time outside the second couples. top couples then join hands, and all return to their own places, second couples separating to allow the others to pass between them. lady and gentleman in the centre of each line join hands, giving their disengaged hands to their two _vis-à-vis_. all four half round to the left, then half round back again to places. meantime, the outside lady and gentleman perform the same with their respective _vis-à-vis_, making a circle of two instead of four. circle of four give hands across round; change hands; round once more, and back to places. outside couples perform same figure in twos. all the sets perform the figure at the same moment. _second part_.--all advance, retreat, and advance again; all the top couples passing the second couples into the next line, where they re-commence the same figure, their former _vis-à-vis_ having passed to the top, and turned round to wait for a fresh _vis-à-vis_; gentleman always keeping lady at his right hand. an entire change of places is thus effected, which is continued throughout this figure, until all the top lines have passed to the bottom, the bottom lines at the same time passing to the top; and then turning round, all go back again by the same method reversed, till all have regained their original places. the dance may terminate here, or the last figure may be repeated, at pleasure. when the first exchange of _vis-à-vis_ takes place, the new lines at the top and bottom find themselves for a moment without a _vis-à-vis_; but, at the next move forward, they are provided, and can continue the figure as above described. we extract from a contemporary the following graceful variation in the first half of this dance:--"all advance and retire twice (hands joined). all _vis-à-vis_ couples _chassez croisez en double_, each gentleman retaining his partner's left hand; eight _galop_ steps (four bars); _déchassez_ eight steps (four steps), the couple on the right of the top line passing in front of the couple on the left the first time, returning to place, passing behind. thus, two couples are moving to the right, and two to the left. this is repeated. the _vis-à-vis_ couples do likewise at the same time. this of course applies to all the couples, as all commence at the same time." la tempête is danced to quick music, in / time. the steps are the same as in quadrilles; varied sometimes by the introduction of the _galop_ step, when the couples cross to each others' places or advance into the lines of the next set. * * * * * xxiv.--sir roger de coverley. we conclude our account of the dances now most in vogue with an old-fashioned favourite, whose popularity dates from a bygone age, and bids fair to survive the present one. long may its cheerful rustic strains be heard in our ball-rooms, and prove we have not grown too fine or too foolish to take pleasure in the simple dances of our ancestors. sir roger de coverley is always introduced at the end of the evening; and no dance could be so well fitted to send the guests home in good humour with each other and with their hosts. we describe it as it is danced in the present day, slightly modernised to suit the taste of our time. like the quadrille, it can be danced with equal propriety by old or young; and is so easy, that the most inexperienced dancer may fearlessly venture to take part in it. form in two parallel lines; ladies on the left, gentlemen on the right, facing their partners. all advance; retreat (which occupies the first four bars); cross to opposite places (four bars more); advance and retreat (four bars); re-cross to places (four bars). the lady who stands at the top, and the gentleman who stands at the bottom, of each line, advance towards each other, courtesy and bow, and retire to places. the gentleman at the top and the lady at the bottom do the same. lady at top and gentleman at bottom advance again, give right hands, and swing quickly round each other back to places. gentleman at top and lady at bottom do the same. top lady advances, gives right hand to partner opposite, and passes behind the two gentlemen standing next to him. then through the line and across it, giving left hand to partner, who meets her half way between the two lines, having in the meantime passed behind the two ladies who stood next his partner. lady then passes behind the two ladies next lowest; gentleman at same time behind the two gentlemen next lowest; and so on all down the line. at the bottom, lady gives left hand to her partner, and they promenade back to places at the top of the line. (this figure is frequently omitted.) top couple advance, courtesy and bow, then lady turns off to the right, gentleman to the left, each followed by the rest of her or his line. top couple meet at the bottom of figure, join hands, and, raising their arms, let all the other couples pass under them towards the top of the line, till all reach their own places, except the top, who have now become the bottom couple. figure is repeated from the beginning, until the top couple have once more worked their way back to their original places at the top of the line. * * * * * glossary throughout the ball-room guide we have endeavoured to avoid as much as possible the rise of french words, and to give our directions in the plain mother tongue. nevertheless there must always be certain technical terms, such as _chassez croisez, glissade_, &c., &c., for which it would be difficult to find good english equivalents. we therefore subjoin a glossary of all such words and expressions as have long since been universally accepted as the accredited phraseology of the ball-room. * * * * * a vos places, _back to your own places_. a la fin, _at the end_. a droite, _to the right_. a gauche, _to the left_. balancez, _set to your partners_. balancez aux coins, _set to the corners_. balancez quatre en ligne, _four dancers set in a line, joining hands, as in la poule_. balancez en moulinet, _gentlemen and their partners give each other right hands across, and_ balancez _in the form of a cross_. balancez et tour des mains, _all set to partners, and turn to places. (see_ tour des mains.) ballotez, _do the same step four times without changing your place_. chaine anglaise, _opposite couples right and left_. chaine des dames, _ladies' chain_. chaine anglaise double, _double right and left_. chaine des dames double, _all the ladies perform the ladies' chain at the same time_. chassez croisez, _do the_ chassé _step from left to right, or right to left, the lady passing before the gentleman in the opposite direction, that is, moving right if he moves left, and vice versâ_. chassez croisez et déchassez, _change places with partners, ladies passing in front, first to the right, then to the left, back to places. it may be either_ à quatre _four couples--or_ les huit--_eight couples_. chassez à droite--à gauche, _move to the right--to the left_. le cavalier seul, _gentleman advances alone_. les cavaliers seuls deux fois, _gentlemen advance and retire twice without their partners_. changez vos dames, _change partners_. contre partie pour les autres, _the other dancers do the same figure_. demi promenade, _half promenade_. demi chaine anglaise, _half right and left_. demi moulinet, _ladies all advance to centre, right hands across, and back to places_. demi tour à quatre, _four hands half round_. dos-à-dos, _lady and opposite gentleman advance, pass round each other back to back, and return to places_. les dames en moulinet, _ladies give right hands across to each other, half round, and back again with left hands_. les dames donnent la main droite--gauche--à leurs cavaliers, _ladies give the right--left--hands to partners_. en avant deux et en arrière; _first lady and_ vis-à-vis _gentleman advance and retire. to secure brevity_, en avant _is always understood to imply_ en arrière _when the latter is not expressed_. en avant deux fois, _advance and retreat twice_. en avant quatre, _first couple and their_ vis-à-vis _advance and retire_. en avant trois, _three advance and retire, as in la pastorale_. figurez devant, _dance before_. figurez à droite--à gauche, _dance to the right--to the left_. la grande tour de rond, _all join hands and dance, completely round the figure in a circle back to places_. le grand rond, _all join hands, and advance and retreat twice, as in la finale_. le grand quatre, _all eight couples form into squares_. la grande chaine, _all the couples move quite round the figure, giving alternately the right and left hand to each in succession, beginning with the right, until all have regained their places, as in last figure of the lancers_. la grande promenade, _all eight (or more) couples promenade all round the figure back to places_. la main, _the hand_. la meme pour les cavaliers, _gentlemen do the same_. le moulinet, _hands across. the figure will explain whether it is the gentlemen, or the ladies, or both, who are to perform it_. pas d'allemande, _the gentleman turns his partner under each arm in succession_. pas de basque, _a kind of sliding step forward, performed with both feet alternately in quick succession. used in the redowa and other dances. comes from the south of france_. glissade, _a sliding step_. le tiroir, _first couple cross with hands joined to opposite couple's place, opposite couple crossing separately outside them; then cross back to places, same figure reversed_. tour des mains, _give both hands to partner, and turn her round without quitting your places_. tour sur place, _the same_. tournez vos dames, _the same_. tour aux coins, _turn at the corners, as in the caledonians, each gentleman turning the lady who stands nearest his left hand, and immediately returning to his own place_. traversez, _cross over to opposite place_ retraversez, _cross back again_. traversez deux, en dormant la main droite, _lady and_ vis-à-vis _gentleman cross, giving right hand, as in la poule_. vis-à-vis, _opposite_. figure en tournant, _circular figure_. etiquette of courtship and matrimony * * * * * i.--first steps in courtship. it would be out of place in these pages to grapple with a subject so large as that of love in its varied phases: a theme that must be left to poets, novelists, and moralists to dilate upon. it is sufficient for our purpose to recognize the existence of this the most universal--the most powerful--of human passions, when venturing to offer our counsel and guidance to those of both sexes who, under its promptings, have resolved to become votaries of hymen, but who, from imperfect knowledge of conventional usages, are naturally apprehensive that at every step they take, they may render themselves liable to misconception, ridicule, or censure. we will take it for granted, then, that a gentleman has in one way or another become fascinated by a fair lady--possibly a recent acquaintance--whom he is most anxious to know more particularly. his heart already feels "the inly touch of love," and his most ardent wish is to have that love returned. at this point we venture to give him a word of serious advice. we urge him, before he ventures to take any step towards the pursuit of this object, to consider well his position and prospects in life, and reflect whether they are such as to justify him in deliberately seeking to win the young lady's affections, with the view of making her his wife at no distant period. should he after such a review of his affairs feel satisfied that he can proceed honourably, he may then use fair opportunities to ascertain the estimation in which the young lady, as well as her family, is held by friends. it is perhaps needless to add, that all possible delicacy and caution must be observed in making such inquiries, so as to avoid compromising the lady herself in the slightest degree. when he has satisfied himself on this head, and found no insurmountable impediment in his way, his next endeavour will be, through the mediation of a common friend, to procure an introduction to the lady's family. those who undertake such an office incur no slight responsibility, and are, of course, expected to be scrupulously careful in performing it, and to communicate all they happen to know affecting the character and circumstances of the individual they introduce. we will now reverse the picture, and see how matters stand on the fair one's side. first let us hope that the inclination is mutual; at all events, that the lady views her admirer with preference, that she deems him not unworthy of her favourable regard, and that his attentions are agreeable to her. it is true her heart may not yet be won: she has to be wooed; and what fair daughter of eve has not hailed with rapture that brightest day in the springtide of her life? she has probably first met the gentleman at a ball, or other festive occasion, where the excitement of the scene has reflected on every object around a roseate tint. we are to suppose, of course, that in looks, manner, and address, her incipient admirer is not below her ideal standard in gentlemanly attributes. his respectful approaches to her--in soliciting her hand as a partner in the dance, &c.--have first awakened on her part a slight feeling of interest towards him. this mutual feeling of interest, once established, soon "grows by what it feeds on." the exaltation of the whole scene favours its development, and it can hardly be wondered at if both parties leave judgment "out in the cold" while enjoying each other's society, and possibly already pleasantly occupied in building "castles in the air." whatever may eventually come of it, the fair one is conscious for the nonce of being unusually happy. this emotion is not likely to be diminished when she finds herself the object of general attention--accompanied, it may be, by the display of a little envy among rival beauties--owing to the assiduous homage of her admirer. at length, prudence whispers that he is to her, as yet, but a comparative stranger; and with a modest reserve she endeavours to retire from his observation, so as not to seem to encourage his attentions. the gentleman's ardour, however, is not to be thus checked; he again solicits her to be his partner in a dance. she finds it hard, very hard, to refuse him; and both, yielding at last to the alluring influences by which they are surrounded, discover at the moment of parting that a new and delightful sensation has been awakened in their hearts. at a juncture so critical in the life of a young inexperienced woman as that when she begins to form an attachment for one of the opposite sex--at a moment when she needs the very best advice accompanied with a considerate regard for her overwrought feelings--the very best course she can take is to confide the secret of her heart to that truest and most loving of friends--her mother. fortunate is the daughter who has not been deprived of that wisest and tenderest of counsellors--whose experience of life, whose prudence and sagacity, whose anxious care and appreciation of her child's sentiments, and whose awakened recollections of her own trysting days, qualify and entitle her above all other beings to counsel and comfort her trusting child, and to claim her confidence. let the timid girl then pour forth into her mother's ear the flood of her pent-up feelings. let her endeavour to distrust her own judgment, and seek hope, guidance, and support from one who, she well knows, will not deceive or mislead her. the confidence thus established will be productive of the most beneficial results--by securing the daughter's obedience to her parent's advice, and her willing adoption of the observances prescribed by etiquette, which, as the courtship progresses, that parent will not fail to recommend as strictly essential in this phase of life. where a young woman has had the misfortune to be deprived of her mother, she should at such a period endeavour to find her next best counsellor in some female relative, or other trustworthy friend. we are to suppose that favourable opportunities for meeting have occurred, until, by-and-by, both the lady and her admirer have come to regard each other with such warm feelings of inclination as to have a constant craving for each other's society. other eyes have in the meantime not failed to notice the symptoms of a growing attachment; and some "kind friends" have, no doubt, even set them down as already engaged. the admirer of the fair one is, indeed, so much enamoured as to be unable longer to retain his secret within his own breast; and, not being without hope that his attachment is reciprocated, resolves on seeking an introduction to the lady's family preparatory to his making a formal declaration of love. it is possible, however, that the lover's endeavours to procure the desired introduction may fail of success, although, where no material difference of social position exists, this difficulty will be found to occur less frequently than might at first be supposed. he must then discreetly adopt measures to bring himself in some degree under the fair one's notice: such, for instance, as attending the place of worship which she frequents, meeting her, so often as to be manifestly for the purpose, in the course of her promenades, &c. he will thus soon be able to judge--even without speaking to the lady--whether his further attentions will be distasteful to her. the signs of this on the lady's part, though of the most trifling nature, and in no way compromising her, will be unmistakeable; for, as the poet tells us in speaking of the sex:-- "he gave them but one tongue to say us 'nay,' and two fond eyes to grant!" should her demeanour be decidedly discouraging, any perseverance on his part would be ungentlemanly and highly indecorous. but, on the other hand, should a timid blush intimate doubt, or a gentle smile lurking in the half-dropped eye give pleasing challenge to further parley when possible, he may venture to write--not to the lady--that would be the opening of a clandestine correspondence, an unworthy course where every act should be open and straightforward, as tending to manly and honourable ends--but, to the father or guardian, through the agency of a common friend where feasible; or, in some instances, to the party at whose residence the lady may be staying. in his letter he ought first to state his position in life and prospects, as well as mention his family connections; and then to request permission to visit the family, as a preliminary step to paying his addresses to the object of his admiration. by this course he in nowise compromises either himself or the lady; but leaves open to both, at any future period, an opportunity of retiring from the position of courtship taken up on the one side, and of receiving addresses on the other, without laying either party open to the accusation of fickleness or jilting. * * * * * ii.--etiquette of courtship. in whatever way the attachment may have originated, whether resulting from old association or from a recent acquaintanceship between the lovers, we will assume that the courtship is so far in a favourable train that the lady's admirer has succeeded in obtaining an introduction to her family, and that he is about to be received in their domestic circle on the footing of a welcome visitor, if not yet in the light of a probationary suitor. in the first case, matters will in all probability be found to amble on so calmly, that the enamoured pair may seldom find it needful to consult the rules of etiquette; but in the latter, its rules must be attentively observed, or "the course of true love" will assuredly not run smooth. if the gentleman be a person of good breeding and right feeling, he will need no caution from us to remember that, when he is admitted into the heart of a family as the suitor of a daughter, he is receiving one of the greatest possible favours that can be conferred on him, whatever may be his own superiority of social rank or worldly circumstances; and that, therefore, his conduct should be marked by a delicate respect towards the parents of his lady-love. by this means he will propitiate them in his favour, and induce them to regard him as worthy of the trust they have placed in him. young people are naturally prone to seek the company of those they love; and as their impulses are often at such times impatient of control, etiquette prescribes cautionary rules for the purpose of averting the mischief that unchecked intercourse and incautious familiarity might give rise to. for instance, a couple known to be attached to each other should never, unless when old acquaintances, be left alone for any length of time, nor be allowed to meet in any other place than the lady's home--particularly at balls, concerts, and other public places--except in the presence of a third party. this, as a general rule, should be carefully observed, although exceptions may occasionally occur under special circumstances; but even then the full consent of the lady's nearest relatives or guardians should be previously obtained. _what the lady should observe during courtship_. a lady should be particular during the early days of courtship--while still retaining some clearness of mental vision--to observe the manner in which her suitor comports himself to other ladies. if he behave with ease and courtesy, without freedom or the slightest approach to licence in manner or conversation; if he never speak slightingly of the sex, and be ever ready to honour its virtues and defend its weakness; she may continue to incline towards him a willing ear. his habits and his conduct must awaken her vigilant attention before it be too late. should he come to visit her at irregular hours; should he exhibit a vague or wandering attention--give proofs of a want of punctuality--show disrespect for age--sneer at things sacred, or absent himself from regular attendance at divine service--or evince an inclination to expensive pleasures beyond his means, or to low and vulgar amusements; should he be foppish, eccentric, or very slovenly in his dress; or display a frivolity of mind, and an absence of well-directed energy in his worldly pursuits; let the young lady, we say, while there is yet time, eschew that gentleman's acquaintance, and allow it gently to drop. the effort, at whatever cost to her feelings, must be made, if she have any regard for her future happiness and self-respect. the proper course then to take is to intimate her distaste, and the causes that have given rise to it, to her parents or guardian, who will be pretty sure to sympathise with her, and to take measures for facilitating the retirement of the gentleman from his pretensions. _what the gentleman should observe during courtship_. it would be well also for the suitor, on his part, during the first few weeks of courtship, carefully to observe the conduct of the young lady in her own family, and the degree of estimation in which she is held by them, as well as amongst her intimate friends. if she be attentive to her duties; respectful and affectionate to her parents; kind and forbearing to her brothers and sisters; not easily ruffled in temper; if her mind be prone to cheerfulness and to hopeful aspiration, instead of to the display of a morbid anxiety and dread of coming evil; if her pleasures and enjoyments be those which chiefly centre in home; if her words be characterised by benevolence, goodwill, and charity: then we say, let him not hesitate, but hasten to enshrine so precious a gem in the casket of his affections. but if, on the other hand, he should find that he has been attracted by the tricksome affectation and heartless allurements of a flirt, ready to bestow smiles on all, but with a heart for none; if she who has succeeded for a time in fascinating him be of uneven temper, easily provoked, and slow to be appeased; fond of showy dress, and eager for admiration; ecstatic about trifles, frivolous in her tastes, and weak and wavering in performing her duties; if her religious observances are merely the formality of lip service; if she be petulant to her friends, pert and disrespectful to her parents, overbearing to her inferiors; if pride, vanity, and affectation be her characteristics; if she be inconstant in her friendships; gaudy and slovenly, rather than neat and scrupulously clean, in attire and personal habits: then we counsel the gentleman to retire as speedily but as politely as possible from the pursuit of an object quite unworthy of his admiration and love; nor dread that the lady's friends--who must know her better than he can do--will call him to account for withdrawing from the field. but we will take it for granted that all goes on well; that the parties are, on sufficient acquaintance, pleased with each other, and that the gentleman is eager to prove the sincerity of his affectionate regard by giving some substantial token of his love and homage to the fair one. this brings us to the question of _presents_, a point on which certain observances of etiquette must not be disregarded. a lady, for instance, cannot with propriety accept presents from a gentleman _previously_ to his having made proposals of marriage. she would by so doing incur an obligation at once embarrassing and unbecoming. should, however, the gentleman insist on making her a present--as of some trifling article of jewellery, &c.,--there must be no secret about it. let the young lady take an early opportunity of saying to her admirer, in the presence of her father or mother, "i am much obliged to you for that ring (or other trinket, as the case may be) which you kindly offered me the other day, and which i shall be most happy to accept, if my parents do not object;" and let her say this in a manner which, while it increases the obligation, will divest it altogether of impropriety, from having been conferred under the sanction of her parents. we have now reached that stage, in the progress of the courtship where budding affection, having developed into mature growth, encourages the lover to make _the proposal_. when about to take this step, the suitor's first difficulty is how to get a favourable opportunity; and next, having got the chance, how to screw his courage up to give utterance to the "declaration." we have heard of a young lover who carried on a courtship for four months ere he could obtain a private interview with his lady-love. in the house, as might be expected, they were never left alone; and in a walk a third party always accompanied them. in such a dilemma, ought he to have unburdened his heart of its secret through the medium of a letter? we say not. a declaration in writing should certainly be avoided where the lover can by any possibility get at the lady's ear. but there are cases where this is so difficult that an impatient lover cannot be restrained from adopting the agency of a _billet-doux_ in declaring his passion. the lady, before proposal, is generally prepared for it. it is seldom that such an avowal comes without some previous indications of look and manner on the part of the admirer, which can hardly fail of being understood. she may not, indeed, consider herself engaged; and, although nearly certain of the conquest she has made, may yet have her misgivings. some gentlemen dread to ask, lest they should be refused. many pause just at the point, and refrain from anything like ardour in their professions of attachment until they feel confident that they may be spared the mortification and ridicule that is supposed to attach to being rejected, in addition to the pain of disappointed hope. this hesitation when the mind is made up is wrong; but it does often occur, and we suppose ever will do so, with persons of great timidity of character. by it both parties are kept needlessly on the fret, until the long-looked-for opportunity unexpectedly arrives, when the flood-gates of feeling are loosened, and the full tide of mutual affection gushes forth uncontrolled. it is, however, at this moment--the agony-point to the embarrassed lover, who "doats yet doubts"--whose suppressed feelings render him morbidly sensitive--that a lady should be especially careful lest any show of either prudery or coquetry on her part should lose to her for ever the object of her choice. true love is generally delicate and timid, and may easily be scared by affected indifference, through feelings of wounded pride. a lover needs very little to assure him of the reciprocation of his attachment: a glance, a single pressure of hand, a whispered syllable on the part of the loved one, will suffice to confirm his hopes. _refusal by the young lady_. when a lady rejects the proposal of a gentleman, her behaviour should be characterised by the most delicate feeling towards one who, in offering her his hand, has proved his desire to confer upon her, by this implied preference for her above all other women, the greatest honour it is in his power to offer. therefore, if she have no love for him, she ought at least to evince a tender regard for his feelings; and, in the event of her being previously engaged, should at once acquaint him with the fact. no right-minded man would desire to persist in a suit when he well knew that the object of his admiration has already disposed of her heart. when a gentleman makes an offer of his hand by letter, the letter must be answered, and certainly not returned, should the answer be a refusal; unless, indeed, when, from a previous repulse, or some other particular and special circumstances, such an offer may be regarded by the lady or her relatives as presumptuous and intrusive. under such circumstances, the letter may be placed by the lady in the hands of her parents or guardian, to be dealt with by them as they may deem most advisable. no woman of proper feeling would regard her rejection of an offer of marriage from a worthy man as a matter of triumph: her feeling on such an occasion should be one of regretful sympathy with him for the pain she is unavoidably compelled to inflict. nor should such, a rejection be unaccompanied with some degree of self examination on her part, to discern whether any lightness of demeanour or tendency to flirtation may have given rise to a false hope of her favouring his suit. at all events, no lady should ever treat the man who has so honoured her with the slightest disrespect or frivolous disregard, nor ever unfeelingly parade a more favoured suitor before one whom she has refused. _conduct of the gentleman when his addresses are rejected_. the conduct of the gentleman under such distressing circumstances should be characterised by extreme delicacy and a chivalrous resolve to avoid occasioning any possible annoyance or uneasiness to the fair author of his pain. if, however, he should have reason to suppose that his rejection has resulted from mere indifference to his suit, he need not altogether retire from the field, but may endeavour to kindle a feeling of regard and sympathy for the patient endurance of his disappointment, and for his continued but respectful endeavours to please the lukewarm fair one. but in the case of avowed or evident preference for another, it becomes imperative upon him, as a gentleman, to withdraw at once, and so relieve the lady of any obstacle that his presence or pretensions may occasion to the furtherance of her obvious wishes. a pertinacious continuance of his attentions, on the part of one who has been distinctly rejected, is an insult deserving of the severest reprobation. although the weakness of her sex, which ought to be her protection, frequently prevents a woman from forcibly breaking off an acquaintance thus annoyingly forced upon her, she rarely fails to resent such impertinence by that sharpest of woman's weapons, a keen-edged but courteous ridicule, which few men can bear up against. _refusal by the lady's parents or guardians_. it may happen that both the lady and her suitor are willing; but that the parents or guardians of the former, on being referred to, deem the connection unfitting, and refuse their consent. in this state of matters, the first thing a man of sense, proper feeling, and candour should do, is to endeavour to learn the objections of the parents, to see whether they cannot be removed. if they are based on his present insufficiency of means, a lover of a persevering spirit may effect much in removing apprehension on that score, by cheerfully submitting to a reasonable time of probation, in the hope of amelioration in his worldly circumstances. happiness delayed will be none the less precious when love has stood the test of constancy and the trial of time. should the objection be founded on inequality of social position, the parties, if young, may wait until matured age shall ripen their judgment and place the future more at their own disposal. a clandestine marriage should be peremptorily declined. in too many cases it is a fraud committed by an elder and more experienced party upon one whose ignorance of the world's ways and whose confiding tenderness appeal to him for protection even against himself. in nearly all the instances we have known of such marriages, the results proved the step to have been ill-judged, imprudent, and highly injurious to the reputation of one party, and in the long run detrimental to the happiness of both. * * * * * iii--etiquette of an engagement. we will now regard the pair of lovers as formally engaged, and bound together in that state of approximation to marriage which was in the ancient christian church, and indeed is still in many countries of europe, considered in a very sacred light, little inferior to, and, in fact, regarded as a part of, marriage itself--the betrothment. _conduct of the engaged couple_. the conduct of the bridegroom-elect should be marked by a gallant and affectionate assiduity towards his lady-love--a _dévouement_ easily felt and understood, but not so easy to define. that of the lady towards him should manifest delicacy, tenderness, and confidence; while looking for his thorough devotion to herself, she should not captiously take offence and show airs at his showing the same kind of attention to other ladies as she, in her turn, would not hesitate to receive from the other sex. in the behaviour of a gentleman towards his betrothed in public, little difference should be perceptible from his demeanour to other ladies, except in those minute attentions which none but those who love can properly understand or appreciate. in private, the slightest approach to indecorous familiarity must be avoided; indeed, it is pretty certain to be resented by every woman who deserves to be a bride. the lady's honour is now in her lover's hands, and he should never forget in his demeanour to and before her that that lady is to be his future wife. it is the privilege of the betrothed lover, as it is also his duty, to give advice to the fair one who now implicitly confides in him. should he detect a fault, should he observe failings which he would wish removed or amended, let him avail himself of this season, so favourable for the frank interchange of thought between the betrothed pair, to urge their correction. he will find a ready listener; and any judicious counsel offered to her by him will now be gratefully received and remembered in after life. after marriage it may be too late; for advice on trivial points of conduct may then not improbably be resented by the wife as an unnecessary interference: now, the fair and loving creature is disposed like pliant wax in his hands to mould herself to his reasonable wishes in all things. _conduct of the lady during her betrothal_. a lady is not expected to keep aloof from society on her engagement, nor to debar herself from the customary attentions and courtesies of her male acquaintances generally; but she should, while accepting them cheerfully, maintain such a prudent reserve, as to intimate that they are viewed by her as mere acts of ordinary courtesy and friendship. in all places of public amusement--at balls, the opera, &c.--for a lady to be seen with any other cavalier than her avowed lover in close attendance upon her would expose her to the imputation of flirtation. she will naturally take pains at such a period to observe the taste of her lover in regard to her costume, and strive carefully to follow it, for all men desire to have their taste and wishes on such apparent trifles gratified. she should at the same time observe much delicacy in regard to dress, and be careful to avoid any unseemly display of her charms: lovers are naturally jealous of observation under such circumstances. it is a mistake not seldom made by women, to suppose their suitors will be pleased by the glowing admiration expressed by other men for the object of _their_ passion. most lovers, on the contrary, we believe, would prefer to withdraw their prize from general observation until the happy moment for their union has arrived. _conduct of the gentleman towards the family of his betrothed_. the lover, having now secured his position, should use discretion and tact in his intercourse with the lady's family, and take care that his visits be not deemed too frequent--so as to be really inconvenient to them. he should accommodate himself as much as possible to their habits and ways, and be ever ready and attentive to consult their wishes. marked attention, and in most cases affectionate kindness, to the lady's mother ought to be shown: such respectful homage will secure for him many advantages in his present position. he must not, however, presume to take his stand yet as a member of the family, nor exhibit an obtrusive familiarity in manner and conversation. should a disruption of the engagement from some unexpected cause ensue, it is obvious that any such premature assumption would lead to very embarrassing results. in short, his conduct should be such as to win for himself the esteem and affection of all the family, and dispose them ever to welcome and desire his presence, rather than regard him as an intruder. _conduct of the lady on retiring from her engagement_. should this step unhappily be found necessary on the lady's part, the truth should be spoken, and the reasons frankly given: there must be no room left for the suspicion of its having originated in caprice or injustice. the case should be so put that the gentleman himself must see and acknowledge the justice of the painful decision arrived at. incompatible habits, ungentlemanly actions, anything tending to diminish that respect for the lover which should be felt for the husband; inconstancy, ill-governed temper--all which, not to mention other obvious objections--are to be considered as sufficient reasons for terminating an engagement. the communication should be made as tenderly as possible: room may be left in mere venial cases for reformation; but all that is done must be so managed that not the slightest shadow of fickleness or want of faith may rest upon the character of the lady. it must be remembered, however, that the termination of an engagement by a lady has the privilege of passing unchallenged,--a lady not being _bound_ to declare any other reason than her will. nevertheless she owes it to her own reputation that her decision should rest on a sufficient foundation, and be unmistakably pronounced. _conduct of the gentleman on retiring from his engagement_. we hardly know how to approach this portion of our subject. the reasons must be strong indeed that can sufficiently justify a man, placed in the position of an accepted suitor, in severing the ties by which he has bound himself to a lady with the avowed intention of making her his wife. his reasons for breaking off his engagement must be such as will not merely satisfy his own conscience, but will justify him in the eyes of the world. if the fault be on the lady's side, great reserve and delicacy will be observed by any man of honour. if, on the other hand, the imperative force of circumstances, such as loss of fortune, or some other unexpected calamity to himself, may be the cause, then must the reason be clearly and fully explained, in such a manner as to soothe the painful feelings which such a result must necessarily occasion to the lady and her friends. it is scarcely necessary to point out the necessity for observing great caution in all that relates to the antecedents of an engagement that has been broken off; especially the return on either side of presents and of all letters that have passed. this last allusion brings us to the consideration of _correspondence_. letter-writing is one great test of ability and cultivation, as respects both sexes. the imperfections of education may be to some extent concealed or glossed over in conversation, but cannot fail to stand out conspicuously in a letter. an ill-written letter infallibly betrays the vulgarity and ignorance indicative of a mean social position. but there is something more to be guarded against than even bad writing and worse spelling in a correspondence: _saying too much_--writing that kind of matter which will not bear to be read by other eyes than those for which it was originally intended. that this is too frequently done is amply proved by the love letters often read in a court of law, the most affecting passages from which occasion "roars of laughter" and the derisive comments of merry-making counsel. occurrences of this kind prove how frequently letters are not returned or burnt when an affair of the heart is broken off. correspondence between lovers should at all events be tempered with discretion; and, on the lady's part particularly, her affectionate expressions should not degenerate into a silly style of fondness. it is as well to remark here, that in correspondence between a couple not actually engaged, the use of christian names in addressing each other should be avoided. _demeanour of the suitor during courtship_. the manners of a gentleman are ever characterized by urbanity and a becoming consideration for the feelings and wishes of others, and by a readiness to practise self-denial. but the very nature of courtship requires the fullest exercise of these excellent qualities on his part. the lover should carefully accommodate his tone and bearing, whether cheerful or serious, to the mood for the time of his lady-love, whose slightest wish must be his law. in his assiduities to her he must allow of no stint; though hindered by time, distance, or fatigue, he must strive to make his professional and social duties bend to his homage at the shrine of love. all this can be done, moreover, by a man of excellent sense with perfect propriety. indeed, the world will not only commend him for such devoted gallantry, but will be pretty sure to censure him for any short-coming in his performance of such devoirs. it is, perhaps, needless to observe that at such a period a gentleman should be scrupulously neat, without appearing particular, in his attire. we shall not attempt to prescribe what he should wear, as that must, of course, depend on the times of the day when his visits are paid, and other circumstances, such as meeting a party of friends, going to the theatre, &c., with the lady. _should a courtship be short or long_? the answer to this question must depend on the previous acquaintanceship, connection, or relationship of the parties, as well as on their present circumstances, and the position of their parents. in case of relationship or old acquaintanceship subsisting between the families, when the courtship, declaration, and engagement have followed each other rapidly, a short wooing is preferable to a long one, should other circumstances not create an obstacle. indeed, as a general rule, we are disposed strongly to recommend a short courtship. a man is never well settled in the saddle of his fortunes until he be married. he wants spring, purpose, and aim; and, above all, he wants a _home_ as the centre of his efforts. some portion of inconvenience, therefore, may be risked to obtain this; in fact, it often occurs that by waiting too long the freshness of life is worn off, and that the generous glow of early feelings becomes tamed down to lukewarmness by a too prudent delaying; while a slight sacrifice of ambition or self-indulgence on the part of the gentleman, and a little descent from pride of station on the lady's side, might have ensured years of satisfied love and happy wedded life. on the other hand, we would recommend a long courtship as advisable when--the friends on both sides favouring the match--it happens that the fortune of neither party will prudently allow an immediate marriage. the gentleman, we will suppose, has his way to make in his profession or business, and is desirous not to involve the object of his affection in the distressing inconvenience, if not the misery, of straitened means. he reflects that for a lady it is an actual degradation, however love may ennoble the motive of her submission, to descend from her former footing in society. he feels, therefore, that this risk ought not to be incurred. for, although the noble and loving spirit of a wife might enable her to bear up cheerfully against misfortune, and by her endearments soothe the broken spirit of her husband; yet the lover who would wilfully, at the outset of wedded life, expose his devoted helpmate to the ordeal of poverty, would be deservedly scouted as selfish and unworthy. these, then, are among the circumstances which warrant a lengthened engagement, and it should be the endeavour of the lady's friends to approve such cautious delay, and do all they can to assist the lover in his efforts to abridge it. the lady's father should regard the lover in the light of another son added to his family, and spare no pains to promote his interests in life, while the lady's mother should do everything in her power, by those small attentions which a mother understands so well, to make the protracted engagement agreeable to him, and as endurable as possible to her daughter. * * * * * iv.--preliminary etiquette of a wedding. whether the term of courtship may have been long or short--according to the requirements of the case--the time will at last arrive for _fixing the day_. while it is the gentleman's province to press for the earliest possible opportunity, it is the lady's privilege to name the happy day; not but that the bridegroom-elect must, after all, issue the fiat, for he has much to consider and prepare for beforehand: for instance, to settle where it will be most convenient to spend the honeymoon--a point which must depend on the season of the year, on his own vocation, and other circumstances. at this advanced state of affairs, we must not overlook the important question of _legal settlements_. these are matters that must be attended to where there is property on either side; and it behoves the intending bridegroom to take care there is no unnecessary delay in completing them. an occasional morning call in one of the inns of court at this period is often found to be necessary to hasten the usually sluggish pace of the legal fraternity. on the business part of this matter it is not the province of our work to dilate; but we may be permitted to suggest that two-thirds, or at least one-half, of the lady's property should be settled on herself and offspring; and that where the bridegroom has no property wherewith to endow his wife, and has solely to rely on his professional prospects, it should be made a _sine quâ non_ that he should insure his life in her favour previously to marriage. _how to be married_. by this time the gentleman will have made up his mind _in what form_ he will be married--a question, the solution of which, however, must chiefly depend on his means and position in life. he has his choice whether he will be married by banns, by licence, by special licence, or before the registrar; but woe betide the unlucky wight who should venture to suggest the last method to a young lady or her parents! _marriage by banns_. for this purpose, notice must be given to the clerk of the parish or of the district church. the names of the two parties must be written down in full, with their conditions, and the parishes in which they reside--as, "between a b, of the parish of st. george, bachelor (or widower, as the case may be), and c d, of the parish of st. george, spinster (or widow, as the case may be)." no mention of either the lady's or gentleman's age is required. where the lady and gentleman are of different parishes, the banns must be published in each, and a certificate of their publication in the one furnished to the clergyman who may marry the parties in the church of the other parish. it seems singular, albeit it is the fact, that no evidence of consent by either party is necessary to this "putting up of the banns," as is it denominated; indeed, the publication of the banns is not unfrequently the first rural declaration of attachment, so that the blushing village maiden sometimes finds herself announced as a bride-elect before she has received any actual declaration. the clerk receives his fee of two shillings and makes no further inquiries; nay, more, is prepared, if required, to provide the necessary fathers on each side, in the respectable persons of himself and the sexton--the venerable pew-opener being also ready, on a pinch, to "perform" the part of bridesmaid. the banns must be publicly read on three successive sundays in the church, after the last of which, if they so choose, the happy pair may, on the monday following, be "made one." it is usual to give one day's previous notice to the clerk; but this is not legally necessary, it being the care of the church, as well as the policy of the law, to throw as few impediments as possible in the way of marriage, of which the one main fact of a consent to live together, declared publicly before an assemblage of relatives, friends, and neighbours (and afterwards, as it were by legal deduction, before witnesses), is the essential and constituent element. marriage by banns, except in the country districts, is usually confined to the humbler classes of society. this is to be regretted, inasmuch as it is a more deliberate and solemn declaration, and leaves the ceremony more free from the imputation of suddenness, contrivance, or fraud, than any other form. a marriage by banns, it is understood, can never be set aside by the after discovery of deception or concealment as respects residence, and even names, on either side. the fees of a marriage by banns vary from _ s. d._ to _ s. d._ and _ s. d._, according to the parish or district wherein the marriage may take place. _hours in which marriages may be celebrated_. all marriages at church must be celebrated within canonical hours--that is, between the hours of eight and twelve, except in the case of special licence, when the marriage may be celebrated at any hour, or at any "meet and proper place." _marriage by special licence_. by the statute of rd henry viii., the archbishop of canterbury has power to grant special licences; but in a certain sense these are limited. his grace restricts his authority to peers and peeresses in their own right, to their sons and daughters, to dowager peeresses, to privy councillors, to judges of the courts at westminster, to baronets and knights, and to members of parliament; and, by an order of a former prelate, to no other person is a special licence to be given, unless they allege very strong and weighty reasons for such indulgence, arising from particular circumstances of the case, the truth of which must be proved to the satisfaction of the archbishop. the application for a special licence is to be made to his grace through the proctor of the parties, who, having first ascertained names and particulars, will wait upon his grace for his fiat. the expense of a special licence is about twenty-eight or thirty guineas, whereas that of an ordinary licence is but two guineas and a half; or three guineas where the gentleman or lady, or both, are minors. _marriage by licence_. an ordinary marriage licence is to be obtained at the faculty registry, or vicar-general's office, or diocesan registry office of the archbishops or bishops, either in the country, or at doctors' commons, or by applying to a proctor. a licence from doctors' commons, unlike others, however, is available throughout the whole of england. the gentleman or lady (for either may attend), before applying for an ordinary marriage licence, should ascertain in what parish or district they are both residing--the church of such parish or district being the church in which the marriage should be celebrated; and either the gentleman or lady must have had his or her usual abode therein fifteen days before application is made for the licence, as the following form, to be made on oath, sets forth:-- ... _proctor_. licence, dated _. "vicar-general's office." _. appeared personally, _a b_, of the parish or district of ----, in the county of ----, a bachelor, of the age of years and upwards, and prayed a licence for the solemnisation of matrimony in the parish or district church of ----, between him and _c d_, of the district of ----, in the county of ----, a spinster, of the age of years or upwards, and made oath, that he believeth that there is no impediment of kindred or alliance, or of any other lawful cause, nor any suit commenced in any ecclesiastical court, to bar or hinder the proceeding of the said matrimony, according to the tenor of such licence. and he further made oath, that he, the said _a b_ or _c d_, hath had his [or her] usual place of abode within the said parish or district of ----, for the space of fifteen days last past. sworn before me, [_here the document must be signed by the vicar-general, or a surrogate appointed by him_.] this affidavit having been completed, the licence is then made out. it runs thus:-- archibald campbell, by divine providence archbishop of canterbury, primate of all england, and metropolitan, to our well beloved in christ, _a b_, of ____, and _c d_, of ____, grace and health.--whereas ye are, as it is alleged, resolved to proceed to the solemnisation of true and lawful matrimony, and that you greatly desire that the same may be solemnised in the face of the church: we, being willing that these your honest desires may the more speedily obtain a due effect, and to the end therefore that this marriage may be publicly and lawfully solemnised in the church of ____, by the rector, vicar, or curate thereof, without the publication or proclamation of the banns of matrimony, provided there shall appear no impediment of kindred or alliance, or of any other lawful cause, nor any suit commenced in any ecclesiastical court, to bar or hinder the proceeding of the said matrimony, according to the tenor of this licence; and likewise, that the celebration of this marriage be had and done publicly in the aforesaid ____ church, between the hours of eight and twelve in the forenoon; we, for lawful causes, graciously grant this our licence and faculty as well to you the parties contracting, as to the rector, vicar, curate, or minister of ____, the aforesaid ____, who is designed to solemnise the marriage between you, in the manner and form above specified, according to the rites of the book of common prayer, set forth for that purpose by the authority of parliament. given under the seal of our vicar-general, this day of ____, in the year of our lord one thousand eight hundred and ____, and in the ____ year of our translation. the licence remains in force for three months only; and the copy received by the person applying for it is left in the hands of the clergyman who marries the parties, it being his authority for so doing. in case either party is a minor, the age must be stated, and the consent of the parents or guardians authorised to give such consent must be sworn to by the gentleman or lady applying for the licence. the following are the persons having legal authority to give their consent in case of minority:-- st, the father; if dead-- nd, the guardians, if any appointed by his will; if none-- rd, the mother, if unmarried; if dead or married-- th, the guardians appointed by chancery. if none of the foregoing persons exist, then the marriage may be legally solemnised without any consent whatever. the following are the official forms for this purpose:-- consents required in case of minors. _consent of father_. by and with the consent of _a b_, the natural and lawful father of _b b_, the minor aforesaid. _guardian testamentary_. by and with the consent of _a b_, the guardian of the person of the said _c d_, the minor aforesaid, lawfully appointed in and by the last will and testament of _d d_, deceased, his [or her] natural and lawful father. _mother_. by and with the consent of _a b_, the natural and lawful mother of _b b_, the minor aforesaid, his [or her] father being dead, and he [or she] having no guardian of his [or her] person lawfully appointed, and his [or her] said mother being unmarried. _guardian appointed by the court of chancery_. by and with the consent of _a b_, the guardian of the person of the said _c d_, appointed by the high court of chancery, and having authority to consent to his [or her] marriage, his [or her] father being dead, and he [or she] having no guardian of his [or her] person otherwise lawfully appointed, or mother living and unmarried. _when no father, testamentary guardian, mother, or guardian appointed by the court of chancery_. that he [or she] the said _a b_, hath no father living, or guardian of his [or her] person lawfully appointed, or mother living and unmarried, or guardian of his [or her] person appointed by the high court of chancery, and having authority to consent to the aforesaid marriage. the previous remarks have reference only to licences for marriages about to be solemnised according to the laws of the church of england. _marriage of roman catholics or dissenters by licence_. by the statute th and th william iv., th august, , roman catholics and dissenters who may wish to be married in a church or chapel belonging to their own denomination, can obtain a licence for that purpose from the superintendent registrar of the district in which one of the parties resides, after giving notice thereof a week previous to the same officer. the expense of the licence is £ s. d. _marriage before the registrar_. should the parties wish to avoid the expense of a licence, they can do so by giving three weeks' notice to the superintendent registrar; which notice is affixed in his office, and read before the proper officers when assembled; at the expiration of that time the marriage may be solemnised in any place which is licensed within their district. the registrar of marriages of such district must have notice of and attend every such marriage. the fee due to the registrar of marriages for attending the ceremony and registering the marriage (by licence) is s., and for certificate s. d; and without a licence s., and certificate s. d. marriages also by the above-mentioned act of parliament may, upon due notice, be celebrated in the office of the superintendent registrar, with or without licence, or with or without any religious ceremony; but the following declarations, which are prescribed by the act, must be made at all marriages, in some part of the ceremony, either religious or otherwise, in the presence of the registrar and two witnesses--viz., "i do solemnly declare that i know not of any lawful impediment why i, _a b_, may not be joined in matrimony to _c d_;" and each of the parties shall also say to each other--"i call upon these persons here present to witness that i, _a b_, do take thee, _c d_, to be my lawful wedded wife" (or husband). it is highly to the credit of the people of this country, and an eminent proof of their deep religious feeling, that all classes of the community have virtually repudiated these "marriages by act of parliament;" nor would we advise any fair maiden who has a regard to the comfort and respect of her after connubial life, to consent to be married in the registrar's back parlour, after due proclamation by the overseers and poor-law guardians. _the bridal trousseau, and the wedding presents_. the day being fixed for the wedding, the bride's father now presents her with a sum of money for her _trousseau_, according to her rank in life. a few days previously to the wedding, presents are also made to the bride by relations and intimate friends, varying in amount and value according to their degrees of relationship and friendship--such as plate, furniture, jewellery, and articles of ornament, as well as of utility, to the newly-married lady in her future station. these, together with her wedding dresses, &c., it is customary to exhibit to the intimate friends of the bride a day or two before her marriage. _duty of a bridegroom-elect_. the bridegroom elect has on the eve of matrimony no little business to transact. his first care is to look after a house suitable for his future home, and then, assisted by the taste of his chosen helpmate, to take steps to furnish it in a becoming style. he must also, if engaged in business, make arrangements for a month's absence; in fact, bring together all matters into a focus, so as to be readily manageable when after the honeymoon he shall take the reins himself. he will do well also to burn most of his bachelor letters, and part with, it may be, some few of his bachelor connections; and he should communicate, in an easy informal way, to his acquaintances generally, the close approach of so important a change in his condition. not to do this might hereafter lead to inconvenience and cause no little annoyance. we must now speak of _buying the ring_. it is the gentleman's business to buy the ring; _and let him take especial care not to forget it_; for such an awkward mistake has frequently happened. the ring should be, we need scarcely say, of the very purest gold, but substantial. there are three reasons for this: first, that it may not break--a source of great trouble to the young wife; secondly, that it may not slip off the finger without being missed--few husbands being pleased to hear that their wives have lost their wedding rings; and, thirdly, that it may last out the lifetime of the loving recipient, even should that life be protracted to the extreme extent. to get at the right size required is not one of the least interesting of the delicate mysteries of love. a not unusual method is to get a sister of the fair one to lend one of the lady's rings, to enable the jeweller to select the proper size. care must be taken, however, that it be not too large. some audacious suitors, rendered bold by their favoured position, have been even known presumptuously to try the ring on the patient finger of the bride-elect; and it has rarely happened in such cases that the ring has been refused, or sent back to be changed. having bought the ring, the bridegroom should now put it into his waistcoat-pocket, there to remain until he puts on his wedding vest on the morning of the marriage; to the left-hand pocket of which he must then carefully transfer it, and not part with it until he takes it out in the church during the wedding ceremony. in ancient days, it appears by the "salisbury manual," there was a form of "blessing the wedding ring" before the wedding day; and in those times the priest, previously to the ring being put on, always made careful inquiry whether it had been duly blessed. it would seem to be the wish of certain clergymen, who have of late brought back into use many ceremonial observances that had fallen into desuetude, to revive this ancient custom. _who should be asked to the wedding_. the wedding should take place at the house of the bride's parents or guardians. the parties who ought to be asked are the father and mother of the gentleman, the brothers and sisters (their wives and husbands also, if married), and indeed the immediate relations and favoured friends of both parties. old family friends on the bride's side should also receive invitations--the _rationale_ or original intention of this wedding assemblage being to give publicity to the fact that the bride is leaving her paternal home with the consent and approbation of her parents. on this occasion the bridegroom has the privilege of asking any friends he may choose to the wedding; but no friend has a right to feel affronted at not being invited, since, were all the friends on either side assembled, the wedding breakfast would be an inconveniently crowded reception, rather than an impressive ceremonial. it is, however, considered a matter of friendly attention on the part of those who cannot be invited, to be present at the ceremony in the church. _who should be bridesmaids_. the bridesmaids should include the unmarried sisters of the bride; but it is considered an anomaly for an elder sister to perform this function. the pleasing novelty for several years past, of an addition to the number of bridesmaids varying from two to eight, and sometimes more, has added greatly to the interest of weddings, the bride being thus enabled to diffuse a portion of her own happiness among the most intimate of her younger friends. one lady is always appointed principal bridesmaid, and has the bride in her charge; it is also her duty to take care that the other bridesmaids have the wedding favours in readiness. on the second bridesmaid devolves, with her principal, the duty of sending out the cards; and on the third bridesmaid, in conjunction with the remaining beauties of her choir, the onerous office of attending to certain ministrations and mysteries connected with the wedding cake. _of the bridegroomsmen_. it behoves a bridegroom to be exceedingly particular in the selection of the friends who, as groomsmen, are to be his companions and assistants on the occasion of his wedding. their number is limited to that of the bridesmaids: one for each. it is unnecessary to add that very much of the social pleasure of the day will depend on their proper mating. young and unmarried they must be, handsome they should be, good-humoured they cannot fail to be, well dressed they will of course take good care to be. let the bridegroom diligently con over his circle of friends, and select the comeliest and the pleasantest fellows for his own train. the principal bridegroomsman, styled his "best man" has, for the day, the special charge of the bridegroom; and the last warning we would give him is, to take care that, when the bridegroom puts on his wedding waistcoat, he does not omit to put the wedding ring into the corner of the left-hand pocket. the dress of a groomsman should be light and elegant; a dress coat, formerly considered indispensable, is no longer adopted. _duties to be attended to the day before the wedding_. the bride now sends white gloves, wrapped in white paper and tied with white ribbon, to each of the bridesmaids. the bridegroom does the same to each of the bridegroomsmen. one portion of the wedding cake is cut into small oblong pieces, and passed by the bridesmaids through the wedding ring, which is delivered into their charge for this purpose. the pieces of cake are afterwards put up in ornamental paper, generally pink or white, enamelled, and tied with bows of silvered paper. this pleasant old custom is, however, much on the wane. the bridegroom's "best man" on this day must take care that due notice be sent to the clerk of the parish where the ceremony is to take place, so that the church may be got ready, and the clergyman be in attendance. it is usual too for the bridegroom's "best man" to make arrangements for the church bells being rung after the ceremony: the _rationale_ of this being to imply that it is the province of the husband to call on all the neighbours to rejoice with him on his receiving his wife, and not that of the lady's father on her going from his house. the bridegroom furnishes to the bridesmaids his list for the "cards" to be sent to his friends; of which hereafter. on the evening of this day the wedding breakfast should be ornamented and spread out, as far as possible, in the apartment appropriated to it. the bridesmaids on this evening also prepare the wedding favours, which should be put up in a box ready to be conveyed to the church on the morning of the marriage. a picturesque custom is observed in many country weddings, where the bride's friends strew her path to the church door with flowers. * * * * * v.--etiquette of a wedding. the parties being assembled on the wedding morning in the drawing-room of the residence of the bride's father (unless, as sometimes happens, the breakfast is spread in that room), the happy _cortège_ should proceed to the church in the following order:-- in the first carriage, the bride's mother and the parents of the bridegroom. in the second and third carriages, bridesmaids. other carriages with the bride's friends. in the last carriage, the bride and her father. _costume of the bride_. a bride's costume should be white, or some hue as close as possible to it. fawn colour, grey, and lavender are entirely out of fashion. it is considered more stylish for a very young bride to go without a bonnet, but for her head to be covered with only a wreath of orange blossoms and a chantilly or some other lace veil. this, however, is entirely a matter of taste; but, whether wearing a bonnet or not, the bride must always wear a veil. if a widow, she may wear not only a bonnet, but a coloured silk dress. _costume of the bridegroom_. formerly it was not considered to be in good taste for a gentleman to be married in a black coat. more latitude is now allowed in the costume of a bridegroom, the style now adopted being what is termed morning dress: a frock coat, light trousers, white satin or silk waistcoat, ornamental tie, and white or grey gloves. _how the bridesmaids should be dressed_. the bridesmaids dress generally in pairs, each two alike, but sometimes all wear a similar costume. pink and light blue, with white pardessus or mantelets, or white with pink or blue, are admissible colours. the bonnets, if worn, must be white, with marabout feathers; but, of late, bonnets have usually been discarded, the bridesmaids wearing veils instead. the whole costume of a bridesmaid should have a very light but brilliant effect, and the _tout ensemble_ of this fair bevy should be so constituted in style and colour as to look well by the side of and about the bride. it should be as the warm colouring in the background of a sun-lit picture, helping to throw into the foreground the dress of the bride, and make her prominent, as the principal person in the tableau. _arrival at the church_. the bridegroom meets the bride at the altar, where he must take especial care to arrive in good time before the hour appointed. _order of procession to the altar_. the father of the bride generally advances with her from the church door to the altar, followed immediately by the bridesmaids. the father of the bridegroom, if present, gives his arm to the bride's mother if she be present, as is now usual at fashionable weddings, and goes next to the bridesmaids. the friends who have come with the wedding party proceed next in succession. the bridegroom with his groomsmen must be in readiness to meet the bride at the altar, the bridegroom standing at the left hand of the clergyman, in the centre before the altar rails. we have seen on some occasions the bridegroom offer the bride his left arm to lead her to the altar, but this should be avoided; for by so doing, the whole order of the procession to the altar becomes inverted, and must then be arranged as follows:-- the father, or some male relative or friend, and the mother of the bride, or, if she be not present, the mother of the gentleman, or one of the oldest female relations or friends of the bride's family, are to lead the way towards the altar from the vestry. the friends who have come with the wedding party follow next in succession. then come the bridesmaids and bridegroomsmen in pairs. the bridegroom, having offered his left arm to the bride, now conducts her up the centre aisle of the church to the altar. the parties in advance file to the right and left of the altar, leaving the bride and bridegroom in the centre. _the marriage ceremony_. the bridegroom stands at the right hand of the bride. the father stands just behind her, so as to be in readiness to give her hand at the proper moment to the bridegroom. the principal bridesmaid stands on the left of the bride, ready to take off the bride's glove, which she keeps as a perquisite and prize of her office. it was ordered by the old rubrics that the woman, if a widow, should have her hand covered when presented by father or friend to the priest for marriage; one of the many points by which the church distinguished second marriages. a piece of silver and a piece of gold were also laid with the wedding ring upon the priest's book (where the cross would be on the cover), in token of dower to the wife. _the words "i will"_ are to be pronounced distinctly and audibly by both parties, such being the all-important part of the ceremony as respects themselves: the public delivery, before the priest, by the father of his daughter to the bridegroom, being an evidence of his assent; the silence which follows the inquiry for "cause or just impediment" testifying that of society in general; and the "i will" being the declaration of the bride and bridegroom that they are voluntary parties to their holy union in marriage. _the words "honour and obey"_ must also be distinctly spoken by the bride. they constitute an essential part of the obligation and contract of matrimony on her part. it may not be amiss here to inform our fair readers that on the marriage of our gracious sovereign queen victoria to h.r.h. the late lamented prince albert, her majesty carefully and most judiciously emphasised these words, thereby manifesting that though a queen in station, yet in her wedded and private life she sought no exemption from this obligation, and in this respect placed herself on the same level with the humblest village matron in her dominions. this obedience on the part of the wife, concerning which there is oftentimes much serious questioning among ladies old and young, while yet unmarried, is thus finely defined by jeremy taylor:--"it is a voluntary cession that is required; such a cession as must be without coercion and violence on his part, but upon fair inducements and reasonableness in the thing, and out of love and honour on her part. when god commands us to love him, he means we shall obey him. 'this is love, that ye keep my commandments; and if ye love me,' says the lord, 'keep my commandments.' now as christ is to the church, so is man to the wife; and therefore obedience is the best instance of her love; for it proclaims her submission, her humility, her opinion of his wisdom, his pre-eminence in the family, the right of his privilege, and the injunction imposed by god upon her sex, that although in sorrow she bring forth children, yet with love and choice she should obey. the man's authority is love, and the woman's love is obedience. it is modesty to advance and highly to honour them who have honoured us by making us the companions of their dearest excellencies; for the woman that went before the man in the way of death, is commanded to follow him in the way of love; and that makes the society to be perfect, and the union profitable, and the harmony complete." _the ring_. the rubric tells us "the man shall give unto the woman a ring, laying the same upon the book with the accustomed duty to the priest and clerk." this latter rule is, however, not now observed, it being usual to pay the fees in the vestry; but to ensure the presence of the ring, a caution by no means unnecessary, and in some measure to sanctify that emblem of an eternal union, it is asked for by the clerk previously to the commencement of the ceremony, who advises that it be placed upon the book. we pity the unfortunate bridegroom who at this moment cannot, by at once inserting his hand into the corner (the one most ready to his finger and thumb) of his left-hand waistcoat-pocket, pull out the wedding ring. imagine his dismay at not finding it there!--the first surprise, the growing anxiety, as the right-hand pocket is next rummaged--the blank look, as he follows this by the discovery that his neither garments have no pockets whatsoever, not even a watch-fob, where it may lie _perdue_ in a corner! amid the suppressed giggle of the bridesmaids, the disconcerted look of the bride herself, at such a palpable instance of carelessness on the part of the bridegroom thus publicly displayed before all her friends, and the half-repressed disapprobation of the numerous circle around, he fumbles in the coat-pockets, and turns them inside-out. a further but useless search causes increased confusion and general annoyance; at length it becomes evident that the unfortunate ring has been forgotten! we may observe, however, that in default of the ring, the wedding ring of the mother may be used. the application of the key of the church door is traditionary in this absurd dilemma; and in country churches a straw twisted into a circle has been known to supply the place of the orthodox hoop of gold! _after the ceremony_. the clergyman usually shakes hands with the bride and bridegroom, and the bride's father and mother, and a general congratulation ensues. _the clergyman and assistant clergymen_. the clergyman of the church is invariably invited to attend, although the ceremony may be performed by some clerical friend of the bride or bridegroom. this is called "assisting;" other clergymen who may attend in addition, as is sometimes the case, are said also to "assist." but as much ridicule has fallen upon the adoption of this custom, and as the expression of "assisting" is considered an affectation, it is much less in vogue than it was; and it is no longer usual to mention the names of any other clergymen than that of the one who performs the ceremony, and of the clergyman of the church, who should be present whether invited or not. it is, indeed, his duty to attend, and he should insist on so doing, inasmuch as the entry of the marriage in the parish register is supposed to be made under his sanction and authority. it should not be forgotten that the presence of an "assisting clergyman" entails the doubling of the fees. the payment of the fees is generally entrusted to the bridegroom's "best man," or some other intimate friend of his. _difference of religion_. where the bride and bridegroom are of different religions, the marriage is usually first celebrated in the church of that communion to which the husband belongs; the second celebration should immediately follow, and upon the same day. some, however, regard it as duly deferential to the bride's feelings that the first ceremony should be performed in her own communion. there is a notion prevalent, that in the case of a marriage between roman catholics and protestants, the ceremony must necessarily be first performed in a protestant church. this is erroneous--the order of the twofold marriage is, in a legal point of view, of no moment, so long as it takes place on the same day. _the return to the vestry_. on the completion of the ceremony the bride is led to the vestry by the bridegroom. the bridesmaids and bridegroomsmen follow, the principals of each taking the lead; then the father of the bride, followed by the father and mother of the bridegroom, and the rest of the company. _the registry of the marriage_. the husband signs first; then the bride-wife, for the last time in her maiden name; next the father of the bride, and the mother, if present; then the father and mother of the bridegroom, if present; next the bridesmaids and the bridegroomsmen; then such of the rest of the company as may desire to be on the record as witnesses. all the names must be signed in full. the certificate of the marriage is then handed to the bride, and should be carefully preserved in her own possession. _the wedding favours_. meanwhile, outside the church, as soon as the ceremony is completed--and not before, for it is regarded as unfortunate--a box of the wedding favours is opened, and every servant in waiting takes care to pin one on the right side of his hat, while the coachmen, too, ornament therewith the ears of their horses. inside the church the wedding favours are also distributed, and a gay, gallant, and animated scene ensues, as each bridesmaid pins on to the coat of each bridegroomsman a wedding favour, which he returns by pinning one also on her shoulder. every "favour" is carefully furnished with two pins for this purpose; and it is amazing to see the flutter, the coquettish smiling, and the frequent pricking of fingers, which the performance of this _piquant_ and pleasant duty of the wedding bachelors and ladies "in waiting" does occasion! _the return home_. the bridegroom now leads the bride out of the church, and the happy pair return homeward in the first carriage. the father and mother follow in the next. the rest "stand not on the order of their going," but start off in such wise as they can best contrive. _the wedding breakfast_. the bride and bridegroom sit together at the centre of the table, in front of the wedding cake, the clergyman who performed the ceremony taking his place opposite to them. the top and bottom of the table are occupied by the father and mother of the bride. the principal bridesmaid sits to the left of the bride, and the principal bridegroomsman on the left of the bridegroom. it may not be unnecessary to say that it is customary for the ladies to wear their bonnets just as they came from the church. the bridesmaids cut the cake into small pieces, which are not eaten until the health of the bride is proposed. this is usually done by the officiating clergyman, or by an old and cherished friend of the family of the bridegroom. the bridegroom returns thanks for the bride and for himself. the health of the bride's parents is then proposed, and is followed by those of the principal personages present, the toast of the bridesmaids being generally one of the pleasantest features of the festal ceremony. after about two hours, the principal bridesmaid leads the bride out of the room as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb the party or attract attention. shortly after--it may be in about ten minutes--the absence of the bride being noticed, the rest of the ladies retire. then it is that the bridegroom has a few _melancholy_ moments to bid adieu to his bachelor friends, and he then generally receives some hints on the subject in a short address from one of them, to which he is of course expected to respond. he then withdraws for a few moments, and returns after having made a slight addition to his toilet, in readiness for travelling. in some recent fashionable weddings we have noticed that the bride and bridegroom do not attend the wedding breakfast, but after a slight refreshment in a private apartment, take their departure immediately on the wedding tour. but this defalcation, if we may so call it, of the chief _dramatis personae_ of the day, though considered to be in good taste, is by no means a popular innovation, but is rather regarded as a prudish dereliction from the ancient forms of hospitality, which are more prized than ever on so genial an occasion as a marriage. _departure for the honeymoon_. the young bride, divested of her bridal attire, and quietly costumed for the journey, now bids farewell to her bridesmaids and lady friends. a few tears spring to her gentle eyes as she takes a last look at the home she is now leaving. the servants venture to crowd about her with their humble but heartfelt congratulations; finally, she falls weeping on her mother's bosom. a short cough is heard, as of some one summoning up resolution to hide emotion. it is her father. he dares not trust his voice; but holds out his hand, gives her an affectionate kiss, and then leads her, half turning back, down the stairs and through the hall, to the door, where he delivers her as a precious charge to her husband, who hands her quickly into the carriage, springs in after her, waves his hand to the party who appear crowding at the windows, half smiles at the throng about the door, then, amidst a shower of old slippers--missiles of good-luck sent flying after the happy pair--gives the word, and they are off, and started on the long-hoped-for voyage! * * * * * vi.--etiquette after the wedding. the dress of the bride during the honeymoon should be characterised by modesty, an attractive simplicity, and scrupulous neatness. the slightest approach to slatternliness in costume, when all should be exquisitely trim from _chevelure_ to _chaussure_, would be an abomination, and assuredly beget a most unpleasant impression on the susceptible feelings of the husband. he will naturally regard any carelessness or indifference in this respect, at such a time, as a bad augury for the future. _the wedding cards_. the distribution of these has long been regarded as an important social duty; it devolves, as we have already said, on the bridesmaids, who meet for that purpose at the house of the bride's father on the day after the wedding. the cards, which are always furnished by the bridegroom, are two fold--the one having upon it the gentleman's and the other the lady's name. they are placed in envelopes, those containing the lady's card having her maiden name engraved or lithographed inside the fold, and have all been addressed some time before by the bridesmaids, to whom the gentleman has given a list of such of his friends as he wishes to introduce to his home. the lady generally sends cards to all whom she has been in the habit of receiving or visiting while at her father's house. she too has now an opportunity of dropping such acquaintances as she may not be desirous of retaining in her wedded life. this point of sending the cards has until recently been considered as one requiring great care and circumspection, since an omission has frequently been regarded as a serious affront. to those parties whose visiting acquaintance is wished to be kept up, on the bride's card it has been the custom until lately to add the words "at home" on such a day. but this usage is going out of vogue. to send cards without an address is an intimation that the parties are not expected to call except in the case of friends who reside far away, or when the marriage has taken place at a distance. in fact, the address is understood to denote "at home," by those who adhere to the custom; it is better, however, that those words should be put upon the cards. a practice has grown up of late, more particularly where the circle of friends is extensive, to send invitations to such as are not called to the wedding feast to attend the ceremony at church, instead of issuing cards at all. when this rule is observed, it is usual in notifying the marriage in the newspapers to add the words "no cards." _reception of visitors_. on the return of the wedded pair from their honeymoon trip, about a month or six weeks after the wedding, they were, until recently, expected to be "at home;" but the formality of reception days is now generally exploded. intimate friends, whether "at home" cards have been issued or not, will, however, be expected to pay them a visit. but if reception days have been fixed, the bride, with her husband and bridesmaids, will sit "at home" ready to receive those to whom cards have been sent, the bride wearing her wedding dress, and the company invited to partake of wedding cake and wine to drink the health of the bride. _returning visits_. the bride and her husband, or, in case he may not be able to attend her, the principal bridesmaid--the last of whose official duties this is--usually return all the wedding visits paid to them. those who may have called on the bride without having received wedding cards should not have their visits returned, unless special reason exists to the contrary, such visit being deemed an impolite intrusion. these return visits having been paid, the happy pair cease to be spoken of as _bride_ and _bridegroom_, but are henceforward styled the "newly-married couple;" and then all goes on as if they had been married twenty years. * * * * * vii.--practical advice to a newly-married couple. our advice to the husband will be brief. let him have up concealments from his wife, but remember that their interests are mutual; that, as she must suffer the pains of every loss, as well as share the advantages of every success, in his career in life, she has therefore a right to know the risks she may be made to undergo. we do not say that it is necessary, or advisable, or even fair, to harass a wife's mind with the details of business; but where a change of circumstances--not for the better--is anticipated or risked, let her by all means be made acquainted with the fact in good time. many a kind husband almost breaks his young wife's fond heart by an alteration in his manner, which she cannot but detect, but from ignorance of the cause very probably attributes to a wrong motive; while he, poor fellow, all the while out of pure tenderness, is endeavouring to conceal from her tidings--which must come out at last--of ruined hopes or failure in speculation; whereas, had she but known the danger beforehand, she would have alleviated his fears on her account, and by cheerful resignation have taken out half the sting of his disappointment. let no man think lightly of the opinion of his wife in times of difficulty. women have generally more acuteness of perception than men; and in moments of peril, or in circumstances that involve a crisis or turning-point in life, they have usually more resolution and greater instinctive judgment. we recommend that every husband from the first should make his wife an allowance for ordinary household expenses--which he should pay weekly or monthly--and for the expenditure of which he should not, unless for some urgent reason, call her to account. a tolerably sure guide in estimating the amount of this item, which does not include rent, taxes, servants' wages, coals, or candles, &c., is to remember that in a small middle-class family, not exceeding _four_, the expense of each person for ordinary food amounts to fifteen shillings weekly; beyond that number, to ten shillings weekly for each extra person, servant or otherwise. this estimate does not, of course, provide for wine or food of a luxurious kind. the largest establishment, indeed, may be safely calculated on the same scale. a wife should also receive a stated allowance for dress, within which limit she ought always to restrict her expenses. any excess of expenditure under this head should be left to the considerate kindness of her husband to concede. nothing is more contemptible than for a woman to have perpetually to ask her husband for small sums for housekeeping expenses--nothing more annoying and humiliating than to have to apply to him always for money for her own private use--nothing more disgusting than to see a man "mollycoddling" about marketing, and rummaging about for cheap articles of all kinds. let the husband beware, when things go wrong with him in business affairs, of venting his bitter feelings of disappointment and despair in the presence of his wife and family,--feelings which, while abroad, he finds it practicable to restrain. it is as unjust as it is impolitic to indulge in such a habit. a wife having married the man she loves above all others, must be expected in her turn to pay some court to him. before marriage she has, doubtless, been made his idol. every moment he could spare, and perhaps many more than he could properly so appropriate, have been devoted to her. how anxiously has he not revolved in his mind his worldly chances of making her happy! how often has he not had to reflect, before he made the proposal of marriage, whether he should be acting dishonourably towards her by incurring the risk, for the selfish motive of his own gratification, of placing her in a worse position than the one she occupied at home! and still more than this, he must have had to consider with anxiety the probability of having to provide for an increasing family, with all its concomitant expenses. we say, then, that being married, and the honeymoon over, the husband must necessarily return to his usual occupations, which will, in all probability, engage the greater part of his thoughts, for he will now be desirous to have it in his power to procure various little indulgences for his wife's sake which he never would have dreamed of for his own. he comes to his home weary and fatigued; his young wife has had but her pleasures to gratify, or the quiet routine of her domestic duties to attend to, while he has been toiling through the day to enable her to gratify these pleasures and to fulfil these duties. let then, the dear, tired husband, at the close of his daily labours, be made welcome by the endearments of his loving spouse--let him be free from the care of having to satisfy the caprices of a petted wife. let her now take her turn in paying those many little love-begotten attentions which married men look for to soothe them--let her reciprocate that devotion to herself, which, from the early hours of their love, he cherished for her, by her ever-ready endeavours to make him happy and his home attractive. in the presence of other persons, however, married people should refrain from fulsome expressions of endearment to each other, the use of which, although a common practice, is really a mark of bad taste. it is desirable also to caution them against adopting the too prevalent vulgarism of calling each other, or indeed any person whatever, merely by the initial letter of their surname. a married woman should always be very careful how she receives personal compliments. she should never court them, nor ever feel flattered by them, whether in her husband's presence or not. if in his presence, they can hardly fail to be distasteful to him; if in his absence, a lady, by a dignified demeanour, may always convince an assiduous admirer that his attentions are not well received, and at once and for ever stop all familiar advances. in case of insult, a wife should immediately make her husband acquainted therewith; as the only chance of safety to a villain lies in the concealment of such things by a lady from dread of consequences to her husband. from that moment he has her at advantage, and may very likely work on deliberately to the undermining of her character. he is thus enabled to play upon her fears, and taunt her with their mutual secret and its concealment, until she may be involved, guilelessly, in a web of apparent guilt, from which she can never extricate herself without risking the happiness of her future life. not the least useful piece of advice--homely though it be--that we can offer to newly-married ladies, is to remind them that husbands are men, and that men must eat. we can tell them, moreover, that men attach no small importance to this very essential operation, and that a very effectual way to keep them in good-humour, as well as good condition, is for wives to study their husband's peculiar likes and dislikes in this matter. let the wife try, therefore, if she have not already done so, to get up a little knowledge of the art of _ordering_ dinner, to say the least of it. this task, if she be disposed to learn it, will in time be easy enough; moreover, if in addition she should acquire some practical knowledge of cookery, she will find ample reward in the gratification it will be the means of affording her husband. servants are difficult subjects for a young wife to handle: she generally either spoils them by indulgence, or ruins them by finding fault unfairly. at last they either get the better of her, or she is voted too bad for them. the art lies in steady command and management of yourself as well as them. the well-known dr. clark, who was always well served, used to say, "it is so extremely difficult to get good servants, that we should not lightly give them up when even tolerable. my advice is, bear a little with them, and do not be too sharp; pass by little things with gentle reprehension: now and then a little serious advice does far more good than sudden fault-finding when the offence justly occurs. if my wife had not acted in this way, we must have been continually changing, and nothing can be more disagreeable in a family, and, indeed, it is generally disgraceful." an observance of the few following rules will in all probability ensure a life of domestic harmony, peace, and comfort:-- to hear as little as possible whatever is to the prejudice of others; to believe nothing of the kind until you are compelled to admit the truth of it; never to take part in the circulation of evil report and idle gossip; always to moderate, as far as possible, harsh and unkind expressions reflecting upon others; always to believe that if the other side were heard, a very different account might be given of the matter. in conclusion, we say emphatically to the newly-wedded wife, that attention to these practical hints will prolong her honeymoon throughout the whole period of wedded life, and cause her husband, as each year adds to the sum of his happiness, to bless the day when he first chose her as the nucleus round which he might consolidate the inestimable blessings of home. "how fair is home, in fancy's pictured theme, in wedded life, in love's romantic dream! thence springs each hope, there every spring returns, pure as the flame that upward heavenward burns; there sits the wife, whose radiant smile is given-- the daily sun of the domestic heaven; and when calm evening sheds a secret power, her looks of love imparadise the hour; while children round, a beauteous train, appear, attendant stars, revolving in her sphere." holland's _hopes of matrimony_. how to dress well * * * * * i.--introduction. no one disputes the fact that, when our first parents were placed in the garden of eden, they wore no clothes. it was not until after they had acquired the knowledge of good and evil that they turned their attention to the subject of dress, which is now the engrossing thought and care of the majority. there are still to be found amongst the uncivilized races those who are contented with as small an amount of clothing as satisfied the first inhabitants of eden. yet many of these show that they study personal appearance quite as much as the most fashionable of parisian belles; for they bestow much labour, time, and thought, and endure much actual suffering in the elaborate patterns with which they tattoo, and, as they vainly suppose, embellish their faces and persons. the ancient britons, who painted themselves in various devices, also bore witness to the natural craving after personal adornment, which seems to be inherent in the whole human race. the particular modes in which this craving exhibits itself seem to depend upon climate and civilization. climate prescribes what is absolutely necessary; civilization, what is decent and becoming. in some countries it is necessary to protect the body, and especially the head, from the power of the sun; in others, to guard it against extreme cold; while many of the savage tribes, inured to the scorching rays of the sun, almost entirely dispense with clothing, and yet have certain conceits and vanities which show that personal appearance is not disregarded. the most hostile intentions have been averted, and imminent peril escaped, by the timely present of a few rows of bright-coloured beads, or a small piece of looking-glass; and the most trumpery european gewgaws have elicited more admiration, afforded greater pleasure, and effected more goodwill, than the most costly treasures could purchase among civilized nations. a love of finery seems to belong to human nature. there is an attraction in bright and showy colours which the uncivilized cannot resist, and which is equally powerful among those who are civilized, though education and other causes may qualify it. when we hear persons loudly declaiming against dress as a needless waste of time and money--when we hear them sighing for the return of the good old times when it was not so much considered, we are tempted to inquire at what period in the history of the world those times occurred; for we cannot learn that it was, at any time, considered to be an unimportant item of expenditure or thought. we do not by any means affirm that it may not occupy too much care; that there may not be instances in which it is suffered to engross the mind to the detriment of other things more worthy of consideration; that it may not lead to frivolity and extravagance. all this may be, and no doubt often is, true. it is quite possible, and more than probable. but we also maintain that it is a great mistake to come down upon it with a sweeping denunciation, and, in quaker fashion, avow it to be all vanity, and assert that it must be trodden out of thought and eye. even the quakers themselves, who affect such supercilious contempt for dress, are very particular about the cut of their headgear, about the shade of their greys and their drabs and their browns, and, in their scrupulous neatness, show that they think as much of a grease-spot or a stain as many a damsel does of the ribbon in her cap or the set of her collar and cuffs. so that, after all, whatever professions people may make, human nature and human wants are always the same. it by no means follows that a person who is well dressed thinks a great deal about it, or devotes much time to it. to some persons it comes quite naturally. they look well in whatever they wear; and the probability is that it occupies less of their time and thoughts than many who arrive, with infinite more labour and pains, at a less pleasing result. in submitting this manual to the public, we do not presume to do more than offer such suggestions as may promote a better style of dress, consistent with a due regard to economy. no doubt many of our suggestions will have occurred to some of our readers, and it may seem almost needless to have made them, but we know by experience in other things that maxims are often forgotten and laid aside till something occurs to revive them. it is easy enough for the rich to be in harmony with the prevailing fashion. they have but to open their purse-strings, and pay for any of those freaks of fancy which are called fashion. to combine a good style with economy requires judgment and contrivance, or, what is generally called, management. there are certain points which may be considered as fundamental, without which the most rigid attention to matters of dress will go for nothing. for instance, cleanliness, which according to the old proverb, is rated so high as to be placed next to godliness, is one of these, and of primary importance. the most costly attire, if unaccompanied by it, is not only valueless, but may become a positive disfigurement, while the simplest dress, combined with cleanliness, may be absolutely refreshing. there is no reason whatever why the most menial occupation should be admitted as any excuse for want of personal cleanliness. it is always easy to distinguish between accidental dirt which cannot always be avoided, and that which is habitual. when it is considered that the object of nine-tenths of womankind is that they may marry and settle in life, as their fathers and mothers have done before them, it is very natural that they should endeavour to make themselves as captivating as they can; only let them all bear this in mind,--let their rank and station be what it may,--that no man is caught by the mere display of fine clothes. a pretty face, or good figure, may captivate; but fine clothes, never. though it is said that fine feathers make fine birds, yet no mail will be caught by a trimming or a flounce. to what end then should attention be given to dress? why should it be made of so much consequence as to write a manual upon it? because it is one of beauty's accessories; because as dress of some kind is absolutely necessary and indispensable, it is better that people of all classes should dress well rather than ill, and that, when it is done, it should be done sensibly and reasonably; without carelessness on the one hand, and without extravagance on the other. when we may, why should we not choose the best and most becoming? why are we to mortify ourselves and annoy our friends by choosing something because it is especially hideous? no law, human or divine, enjoins us to disfigure ourselves. * * * * * ii.--taste in dress. in dress, as in most other things, there are two kinds of taste; good taste and bad taste. we use the word "taste" in a sense quite distinct from "style." it is a disputed point whether really good taste can ever be acquired, or whether it is only inherent. we are disposed to think that, in its most perfect form, it is inborn; but that education, association, familiarity with it may, and often does, arrive at the same result. for instance, a person who has always lived on close and intimate terms with those who are conspicuous for their good taste, becomes so familiarized with certain expressions of thoughts and ideas, habits of mind, and standard of life, that he unconsciously adopts them, views things from the same point, and walks in the same groove, quite irrespective of the natural tendencies of his own mind. persons who have no natural gift or talent for painting, may acquire a knowledge of the art so as to pronounce with tolerable correctness of judgment upon the works of the old masters, from merely associating with those who are conversant with the subject, living amongst the pictures themselves, or from hearing discussions upon their respective merits. in fact, man is an imitative animal, and can adapt himself very readily to the circumstances by which he is surrounded, as well as acquire from others the results of their deeper research and greater experience. living in an atmosphere where good taste prevails, it is not wonderful that he should acquire that power of discrimination by which the selection of what is becoming and harmonious is made easy. there is no doubt that dress is a very fair index of the mind of the wearer. who but a widow barnaby would wear a bright emerald green satin dress in the morning, and a bonnet profusely ornamented with large and brilliant scarlet flowers? yet we have ourselves seen a lady, of ample dimensions and advanced years, similarly attired, and could think of nothing but one of those large gaudy macaws which are to be met with in every zoological garden. who that had any regard for his own liberty would marry such a strong-minded, pretentious dame? who could endure for life the vulgarity of mind that suggested such a costume for a fête in the country on a hot summer's day? there are some persons who think to overpower their neighbours by the splendour of their attire. it is much easier to point out what offends against good taste than to say in so many words in what it consists. harmony of colour is essential to being well dressed. there are colours which "swear" so awfully, that no one with any pretension to good taste would wear them; yet we not unfrequently find instances of them. a yellow gown has been worn with a bright green bonnet; red and green, like our friend à-la-macaw; salmon colour and blue; yellow and red; green and blue. two ill-assorted shades of the same colour, such as a dark and light blue; or a red lilac and a blue lilac; or a rose pink and a blue pink; or drab and yellow. instances might be multiplied without end of incongruous inharmonious blending of colours, the mere sight of which is enough to give any one a bilious fever. there are colours which, in themselves, may be inoffensive, but of which only particular shades assort well together. blue and pink was a very favourite combination at one time; but in order to be both pleasing and effective, it must be one particular shade of each, and these softened and blended by the addition of white. again, shades of scarlet and blue harmonize well together. black has a wonderful power in softening down any intrusive brilliancy. it tones down scarlet and pink, blue and yellow, and gives them an indescribable charm, suggesting all kinds of pleasant things--the cachuca and castanets, and the mantilla worn with such inimitable grace and coquetry by the spanish ladies. black and white is also a pleasing combination. white has generally the opposite effect of black. it adds to the brilliancy of the colours, and smartens rather than subdues. many of those who aim at being well dressed, rarely give sufficient attention to this harmony of colour. one little thing will upset the whole. the choice of jewels or the head dress may destroy all the effect which has been admirably conceived by an experienced dressmaker. it is on this account that some milliners prefer to supply all that is requisite for a particular costume. the man-milliner at paris is said to be very dictatorial on this subject, and to decide very peremptorily as to what shall or shall not be worn. in morning costumes, a pair of gloves badly chosen will mar the effect of the whole. imagine a lady dressed in mauve silk, with a mauve bonnet, and _emerald green kid gloves_! or vice versâ, in green silk, with a bonnet to match, and _mauve-coloured gloves_! dark green, dark mauve, or plum coloured, dark salmon, or dark yellow gloves, are enough to spoil the most faultless costume; because they interrupt the harmony of colour; like the one string of a musical instrument, which, being out of tune, creates a discord throughout all the rest. variety in colour is another great defect in dress, quite apart from the question of their harmony. a multiplicity of colours, though not in themselves inharmonious, is never pleasing. it fatigues the eye, which cannot find any repose where it is disturbed by so many colours. a bonnet of one colour, a gown of another, with trimmings of a third, a mantle of a fourth, and a parasol of a fifth colour, can never form a costume that will please the eye. it is laid to the charge of english people, that they are especially fond of this kind of dress, whereas a french woman will dress much more quietly, though, by no means, less expensively; but in her choice of colours she will use very few, and those well assorted. for instance, a grey gown and a white bonnet, relieved by a black lace shawl or velvet mantle, indicate a refinement which may be looked in vain where the colours of the rainbow prevail. among well-dressed persons it will be found that quiet colours are always preferred. whatever is gaudy is offensive, and the use of many colours constitutes gaudiness. birds of gay plumage are sometimes brought forward to sanction the use of many bright colours. they are indeed worthy of all admiration; so also are flowers, in which we find the most beautiful assortment of colours; but nature has shaded and blended them together with such exquisite skill and delicacy, that they are placed far beyond the reach of all human art; and we think they are, to use the mildest terms, both bold and unwise who attempt to reproduce in their own persons, with the aid of silks or satins, the marvellous effect of colours with which nature abounds. and yet it may be observed in nature, how gay colours are neutralized by their accessories; how the greens vary in tone and tint according to the blossoms which they surround. the infinite shades and depths of colour with which nature is filled render it impossible for anyone to attempt to imitate it beyond a certain point of general harmony. this is now more generally understood than it used to be; but still we often stumble across some glaring instance in which a gaudy eye and taste have been allowed to run riot, and the result has been the reproduction of something not very unlike a bed of tulips. it is in a host of little things such as these that good taste lies, and shows itself. we remember an instance of a lady, who was conspicuous among her fellows for her exquisitely good taste in dress, being severely commented upon by two showily-dressed women, who were the wives of wealthy merchants in one of our great seaport-towns. this lady appeared in church quietly dressed in black, with a handsome indian shawl, of which the colours were subdued and wonderfully blended. the two representatives of the "nouveaux riches" looked at the lady and then at each other; they turned up their noses, and shrugged their shoulders, and gave vent to their feelings, as they came away from church, in loud exclamations of disdain: "well! did you ever? no! i never did; and she a lady too! for their part they would be ashamed to wear such a shabby old shawl." the shawl was worth about its weight in gold; but because it was not showy, it found no favour in their eyes. as it is so intricate a matter, and one of which a very slight thing can turn the scales, it is not easy to lay down rules by which good taste may be acquired. but there are instances of bad taste which can be avoided, and among them there is one which is self-evident, and does not relate either to harmony or to variety of colours. we allude to the good taste of dressing according to our means and station. there is an impression in the minds of some persons, that fine feathers make fine birds, and that the world in general thinks more or less of them according to the dress they wear. therefore, in order that they may impose upon their neighbours by their outward appearance, and, as children say, make-believe that they are richer than they really are, they dress beyond their means, and, at the cost of much privation of even the necessaries of life, make a display which they are not warranted in making. we have known those who have pinched themselves till they have brought on actual illness, or have laid the foundation of a fatal disease, in order that they might dress themselves in a style beyond their position in life. in france this is often the case. a lady who, in her ordinary attire, is as slovenly and as shabbily dressed as almost the very beggar in the street, will appear at some evening party most exquisitely dressed, and will carry on her back the savings acquired by months and years of penurious self-denial. we respect those who struggle hard to maintain their hereditary position, and reverence within certain limits the spirit of endurance which bears in privacy the changes of fortune in order to keep up a becoming appearance in the eyes of the world. but we have no sympathy for those who, having no such excuse, having no high lineage, and to whom fortune has not been unkind, stint and screw that they may impose upon their neighbours with the notion that they are better off than they really are,--better off in money, and better off in position. imposture of this kind we confess we have no patience for. we are very intolerant of it. it is a vulgarity which, wherever it may be found, is most offensive. we go even further still, and are disposed to blame all who, whatever their circumstances or condition may have been or may be, dress beyond their means. it is possible that some relics of past grandeur may yet remain to be worn on state occasions. with that no one can quarrel; but it is a mistake to make great and unwarrantable sacrifices in order to replenish the exhausted wardrobe on its former scale of magnificence. it is better far to accept fate, to comply with the inevitable, and not waste time and strength in fighting against the iron gates of destiny. no one, whose esteem is worth having, will respect us less because we dress according to our means, even if those means should have dwindled into insignificance. but if we toil unduly to make ourselves appear to be something that we are not, we shall earn contempt and reap disappointment. it is far more noble-minded to bid farewell to all our greatness, than to catch greedily at any of the outlying tinsel that may remain here and there. this indicates good taste more than anything. to be what we are, really and simply, and without pretension, is one of the greatest proofs of good feeling which, in matters of dress, resolves itself into good taste. there is nothing more hateful than pretension. the fable of the "frog and the bull" illustrates the absurdity of it. yet it is of every-day occurrence, and we continually meet with instances of it. persons in humble class of life will often ape their betters, dressing after them, and absolutely going without necessary food in order to get some piece of finery. fine gowns of inconvenient length, expanded over large crinolines--silk mantles richly trimmed,--often conceal the coarsest, scantiest, and most ragged underclothing. we have seen the most diminutive bonnets, not bigger than saucers, ornamented with beads and flowers and lace, and backed up by ready-made "chignons," on the heads of girls who are only one degree removed from the poor-house. servant-girls who can scarcely read, much less write,--who do not know how to spell their names,--who have low wages,--and, as little children, had scarcely shoes to their feet,--who perhaps never saw fresh meat in their homes, except at christmas, when it was given them by some rich neighbour,--spend all their earnings on their dress, appear on sundays in hats and feathers, or bonnets and flowers, and veils and parasols, and long trailing skirts, which they do not care to hold up out of the dirt, but with which they sweep the pavement. can it be said that this is good taste? assuredly not. it could not well be worse. the question of station and of means does not seem to rule the world in general. everything is considered to be suited to every body; and the maid-of-all-work does not hesitate to copy, to the utmost extent of her power, the dress of the greatest lady in the land. she does not see why she should not dress as she likes, and is not restrained in her wish by good taste. we do not wish to argue in favour of any monopoly, but we confess that we should like to see people of all classes regulated by good taste in matters of dress. on the continent we find the evils we complain of partially remedied by national costumes; but these are fast diminishing, and are only to be found in all their perfection in those parts into which the railways have not yet penetrated. yet, who does not look with pleasure upon the clean white cap of the french servant, or bonne, who goes to market and to church without a bonnet, and with only her thick snow-white cap? who does not delight in the simplicity of dress which the french, norman, and breton peasants still preserve? contrast it with the dress of our servant-girls, with their crinoline and absurd little bonnets, and say which is the best taste. after all that can be said there is no doubt that one of the objects of dress should be to enable people to do what they have to do in the best, the most convenient, and the most respectable manner. at all events it should not interfere with their occupation. did our readers ever see a london housemaid cleaning the doorsteps of a london house? it is a most unedifying sight. as the poor girl kneels and stoops forward to whiten and clean the steps her crinoline goes up as her head goes down, and her person is exposed to the gaze of policemen and errand-boys, who are not slow to chaff her upon the size and shape of her legs. can this be called dressing in good taste? would it not be wiser to discard the crinoline altogether till the day's work is done, and the servants make themselves tidy for their tea and their evening recreation. in some families this is insisted on. but, on the other hand, it is complained against as an infringement upon the liberty of the subject, which is an unreasonable complaint, as the subject may go elsewhere if she dislikes to have her liberty so interfered with. good taste in dress is a question which is, by no means, above the consideration of old and elderly women. there are some who never can imagine themselves old. whether it is owing to the eternal youth of their mind and spirits, or to their vanity, we do not pretend to say; but one thing is certain that again and again have we been both amused and disgusted by the way in which old women dress themselves. a lady with whom we were acquainted used to dress in blue or white gauze or tarlatan, or any light material she could lay her hands on, when she was past _eighty_, and she vainly imagined that, with an affectation of youth in her gait, and with the aid of the rouge-pot, she could conceal her age. she would trip into the room like a young girl, with her light gossamer dress floating around her as if she were some sylph in a ballet. she was a wonderful woman for her age, and, no doubt, had been so accustomed to the remarks that were continually made upon her agility and appearance, that she had at last grown to think herself almost as young as she was _sixty years_ ago. it was but the other day that we saw an old woman with grey hair wearing a little hat placed coquettishly upon her head, with a large chignon of grey hair filling up the back! sometimes we have seen old women spurning the sober tints which accord with their years, and coming out dressed like queens of the may in garlands and flowers; and wearing bonnets that would be trying even to a belle of eighteen. but when people resolutely refuse to accept the fact that they are no longer young, it is not surprising that they should run into some extremes, and offend against good taste by dressing in a style utterly unsuited to their years. and yet there is no more pleasing sight than a good-looking old woman, who is neither afraid or ashamed to recognize the fact of her age, and wears the quiet and sober colours which belong to her years, modifying the fashion of the day to suit herself, that she may neither ape the young nor affect to revive in her own person the fashions of by-gone days. affectation of all kinds is detestable. so also there are rules for the young, which, if attended to, will prevent their offending against good taste. the young are, of all people, without excuse. the freshness of youth has a beauty of its own which needs but little outward adornment. the ravages of time have not to be repaired. youth has charms of its own, and the more simply it is attired the better. everything is in favour of the young. when they adopt elaborate or rich toilets, when they make flower-gardens of their heads, or wear strong and glaring colours, the chances are that they disfigure themselves. a young girl should never make herself conspicuous by her dress. let it be as good as she pleases, as costly as she can afford, still let it be simple and unobtrusive. let the general effect be pleasing and grateful to the eye; but at the same time let it be impossible to say in what it consists, or to remember her on account of any peculiarity in it. if she is beautiful, let her dress aid her beauty by not drawing away the attention from it. if she is plain, let her not attract all eyes to her plainness. let not people say of her, "did you see that ugly girl with that scarlet feather in her hat?" or, "with that bonnet covered with pearl beads, contrasting with her dark and sallow complexion?" or, "with that bright green gown, which made her look so bilious?" it is in small things, as well as in great, that good taste shows itself. well-fitting gloves and boots, things of small moment in themselves, tell of a neat and refined taste. quiet colours, well assorted; an absence of glare and display, nothing in extremes, betoken a correct eye and good taste. it is, then, in the harmony of colour; in the use of a few colours at one and the same time; in dressing according to their means, according to their station, as well as according to their age, that people may be said to show their good taste in dress. there are, doubtless, other points of detail which will suggest themselves to the minds of our readers; but we are confident that, if attention is given to the points which it has been our wish to place prominently before them, there will be fewer of those startling peculiarities and eccentricities which offend against good taste. * * * * * iii.--fashion in dress it is very difficult to say what constitutes fashion. we allow our french neighbours to prescribe what we shall wear, and at certain seasons of the year, english milliners of any pretension flock to paris to learn their lesson, and on their return to london, announce to the public and to their customers that they are prepared to exhibit the greatest novelties in style, form, and colour, which they have been able to procure. the variety that is presented, as having been just imported from paris, convinces us that there exists everywhere, even in the great french capital itself, the greatest possible diversity of taste; and, if we may judge from the extraordinary specimens which are introduced to our notice, we should infer that the parisian taste is by no means faultless. we do not mean to insinuate that a really well-dressed frenchwoman is not better dressed than most english women, or that the french have not a peculiar knack of putting on their clothes to the best advantage; for there is no doubt upon the matter. but, if we maybe allowed to judge from the examples brought over to us in the shape of bonnets and head-dresses, and other articles of a lady's toilette, we should say that there must be a considerable inclination among our foreign neighbours to what is both gaudy and vulgar. when anyone complains to a milliner of the style of any of the articles she has on sale, she replies that she is obliged to provide for all kinds of taste; that it would not answer her purpose to limit her supply to those who have a faultless eye; that, in order to make her business succeed, she must be prepared to accommodate all persons, and cater for them all alike, studying to please each individual in whatever way she may be disposed to be pleased, and never presuming to do more than merely suggest some slight improvement or modification. ladies are apt to take offence at their taste being too severely criticized, and dressmakers do not always find it the easiest possible task to steer clear between securing their own reputation as "artistes" of fashion and good taste, and avoiding giving offence to their patronesses. it is the public who are to blame. when some one remonstrated with braham for his florid and vulgar style of singing, he replied, it was the people and not he who was at fault. it was alike his duty and interest to please the public, and not to instruct it. he sang to be listened to and encored, not to be hissed and snubbed. it does not answer for any tradesman not to be able to supply what his customers demand. it is the public who are to blame. if they insist upon being supplied with certain articles of consumption or of dress, the shopkeepers have no alternative but to supply them. if ladies prefer what is ugly and misbecoming, the dressmakers have to make it. it is the old story over again of the demand creating the supply. there will always be persons who do not know how to dress well; who have ideas of their own to which they are determined to give expression. when they think they are doing their best, and are bent upon astonishing the world, they somehow appear to the worst advantage. they endeavour to rival their neighbours in strength and variety of colours; and, if they see a beautiful woman becomingly dressed, they at once copy that woman, quite regardless of their personal appearance, which may be the least fitted to the style which has taken their fancy. it reminds us of the story of a fashionable shoemaker, who, having made a pair of shoes for a lady who was remarkable for the beautiful shape of her foot, was applied to by another lady to make her a pair exactly similar to lady so and so's. the shoemaker looked with dismay at his new customer's foot, which bore no resemblance whatever to that of her friend. at last he looked up at the lady, shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and said: "madam, it is impossible; you must bring me a foot like her ladyship's before i can make a shoe like hers." the rebuke was well deserved: but his honesty lost him a good customer. the assortment and choice of colours, though chiefly a matter of taste, is yet under the direction of fashion. at one time one colour predominates, at another time another; while two colours may be used together at one time, which at another are almost interdicted. there is nothing more capricious, more inexplicable, more wayward, than fashion. it is true that, taken as a whole, there is a certain conformity in the rules it prescribes. for instance, as the crinoline diminishes in size and the area which petticoats cover in their circumference is lessened, so also bonnets have grown smaller, and the enormous plait of hair which has taken the place of the chignon, keeps in countenance the extraordinary length of ladies' trains. if any one cares to be amused she might investigate the fashions of by-gone days. the transitions are wonderful, and do not appear to be guided by any rule. those of the gentlemen are simply absurd. since the days of vandyck, there has been nothing attractive in their dress; nothing picturesque. it has been as ugly as possible, and continues to be so. the nearest approximation to anything less hideous than the present fashion is in the "knicker-bockers," which are generally worn by sporting men and pedestrians--men who shoot, or who are addicted to walking tours. there was an attempt on the part of one or two individuals to introduce them, by means of velvet and silk hose, for evening wear; but the example was not followed, and the swallow-tailed coat still prevails. in order to dress strictly according to fashion, and to comply with the ever-changing caprice, it is necessary to have a large and well-filled purse, and a wardrobe that is not too extensive; because, as the fashion varies with almost every season, a large number of dresses involves either a great and needless waste of money, or the necessity of always being a little behind the fashion of the day. besides which, as this capricious goddess has prescribed what shall be worn for driving, for walking, for morning, noon, and night; and demi-toilettes and full-dress toilettes have each their own peculiarities, it really becomes a very serious item of expenditure for such ladies as make it the business of their lives to follow the fashions of the day. fashion prescribes rules for all. all classes of society bow, more or less, to her decrees. the fine lady who frequents the court, as well as the servant-girl who sweeps out the area of a london lodging-house, and all the intermediate classes, are guided by fashion. crinolines and bonnets prove this, as well as the length of the skirts which are suffered to trail along in all the dirt and dust of pavement and crossings. it always takes some time before a fashion which has been adopted by the higher orders prevails among the lower; but, if it is a fashion which survives beyond the moment, it invariably finds its way downward in the course of time. fashion prescribes the size and shape of bonnets, the make of gowns, their length and their size--the number of breadths and gores--the trimmings, the petticoats, which have become like a second gown, and all the other paraphernalia of a lady's toilette. there is no part of a lady's dress too minute for her inspection and care and legislation. the colour of gloves, the dye of hair, the application of false hair, the make of boots and shoes, the choice of ornaments, are all ordered and arranged. fashion is a sort of "act of uniformity," which would bring all flights of fancy within certain prescribed limits. it defines the boundaries within which ladies may safely indulge their own conceits. the best-dressed persons are not always those who are led blindfold by the prevailing fashion, nor by any means those who are strong-minded enough to defy it, and set it at nought. any one who defies the fashion of the day, and, when long skirts and small saucer-like bonnets prevail, dares to walk abroad with very short petticoats, which she holds up unnecessarily high; displaying a foot and ankle that had better be hidden out of sight; who spurns a crinoline, and therefore looks like a whipping post; who wears a many-coloured shawl because cloaks and mantles are the rage; who adorns her head with a bonnet that is of the coal-scuttle cut, over which she fastens a large, coloured gauze veil, because she desires to protest, as far as she can, against the innovations of fashion; such a one will never attract, nor influence the public mind. she will provoke a smile, but will never recommend her own peculiar and independent style of dress. and she who follows fashion like a slave, wears what is prescribed without regard to her own personal appearance; who considers neither her age, nor her figure, nor her station, nor her means; who simply allows herself to be an advertisement for the milliner she employs, will often appear eccentric, and generally ill-dressed. it is never sufficiently considered that every one has her "points," and that nothing so much offends as discrepancies. we remember a discussion upon female beauty, when instances were brought forward of persons who were conspicuous for their good looks, but who could not boast of one really perfect feature. the effect of the "tout ensemble" was good, and most attractive, but when the faces were pulled to pieces, it was impossible to say in what the beauty consisted. one of the critics wisely said, that it was to be found in the perfect harmony of feature and expression. all the features were on the same scale; no one feature overpowered the other, and the expression called into activity all features alike, so that there was perfect unity and harmony throughout. to compare small things with great, we should say that this supplies a good rule for dressing well. there should be no discrepancies. it should be harmonious, not only in itself, but harmonious with the person whom it is intended to adorn. it should be in keeping with face and figure. no two persons are exactly alike. every one has her "points," which constitute her beauty and her charm; and these "points" have to be attended to carefully. a woman who does this, with due regard to the rules of fashion, will always be well dressed. she will not buy or wear a thing simply because it has "just come from paris," nor be influenced by milliners and shopmen who assure her that the ugly article they exhibit is original in shape and style. though fashion dictates, and she follows, yet she follows in a way of her own. she is never behind fashion, and never in advance of it. perhaps her most admired "toilette" has been made at home, under her own eye, which has directed how far a compliance with the prevailing fashion suits her. she does not startle the world with a combination of strange colours, nor entertain her friends with a peculiarity of style and make. what she wears is prettily arranged, well made and well put on, and the effect is both pleasing and refreshing, and people inquire what house in paris she patronizes. she is prudent; and, keeping her own secret, does not offend the fastidiousness of her fashionable friends by letting the truth eke out, that her much-admired parisian "toilette" is, in every sense, of home-produce, but smiles at their approval, and follows her own plan, which is so successful in its results. her costume is not expensive, and she contrives that, whatever she wears shall not offend against the laws of fashion, while she declines to be its slave. she is not addicted to sham jewellery; she has no weakness for tinsel. what she wears is good of its kind, even when it is not costly. wherever she goes, she impresses everyone with the fact that she is a true gentlewoman. she knows what is suited to her station and age, and, without conceit, understands what are her "points." she is well aware that no woman can afford to be indifferent to her personal appearance, and that no law, human or divine, requires her to disfigure herself. a married woman has to bear in mind that she must dress not only to please her husband, but also to reflect credit upon his choice. the unmarried to impart to herself as prepossessing an appearance as will be likely to attract the opposite sex. neither before or after marriage can any woman neglect her person with impunity. nor can she set her face entirely against the fashions of the day. she may modify them to suit herself, and to bring out her "points;" but she cannot safely disregard or defy them. fashion gives, as it were, the key-note--supplies the hint, which is taken and followed as people can. it is absurd to suppose that its laws are stringent, and not elastic, or that all persons must conform exactly to its "dicta." who shall say that all must dress alike? tall and short, fat and lean, stout and scraggy, cannot be made equally subject to the same rule. in such a matter as dress there must be some margin allowed for individual peculiarities. nature has not made us all in the same mould; and we must be careful not to affront nature, but must accept her gifts and make the best of them. there is one point connected with the following of fashion which requires some attention, and which, if attended to, will preserve us from incongruities. we allude to the disposition of some persons to use various fashions together. they are inclined to be "_eclectic_." they select from by-gone fashions, and endeavour to blend them with those which prevail. the result is a painful incongruity. who would dream of placing a grecian portico to an elizabethan building? why then endeavour to combine old fashions with new? why attempt to wear a bonnet of almost primitive form with dresses of modern dimensions and style? or why wear flounces when they are out of fashion, and full skirts when everything is _"gored"_ into plainness? it is necessary to pay some attention to the present style of dress, if ladies desire to avoid peculiarities and wish to please. but it, of course, requires a certain sense of propriety and of fitness. a bonnet of diminutive form which suits to perfection a young girl with a small oval face and slender throat, is quite misapplied when adopted by a woman of a certain age, whose figure has escaped beyond the limits of even "embonpoint," whose throat is not perceptible, and whose face and head are large. she requires something of more ample dimensions, that bears some affinity in size with the head and face it is intended to ornament; something which will modify, if not conceal, the imperfections which time has developed. a dress of a light and airy kind does not become a matron; nor can that which suits a slight and elastic figure be worn with impunity by what is called a "comely dame." fashion prescribes all sorts of rules about breadths, gores, flounces, and such like, and these are the hints which she gives, and which ladies must take and apply to themselves to the best advantage. there is ample margin allowed for each one to adopt what is best suited to her own particular style of beauty. perhaps there never was a time when so much liberty was allowed to ladies to dress according to their own fancy. of course we mean within certain limits. if any one will consent to keep within those limits, and not do actual violence to the decrees of fashion, she may, to a considerable degree, follow her own fancy. if the general idea which fashion has submitted to society as the sine quâ non of being well dressed is borne in mind, she is very tolerant of the various modifications which ladies, for the most part, wisely adopt, that they may not make "guys" of themselves. nothing illustrates this more than the hats and bonnets which are worn. their variety is so great that their names might be termed "legion;" and a pretty woman may adopt all kinds of conceits, providing she neither offends the eye nor defies the prevailing fashion. one may come out as a shepherdess, another like a spanish cavalier in the time of charles the second, another with a three-cornered hat such as state-coachmen wear on "drawing-room days," only of course a very small edition of it; another with a little coquettish hat that suggests one of watteau's most successful pictures; but no one may wear one of those large mushroom bonnets which were worn some five-and-thirty years ago, and which were ornamented by large bows of ribbon stiffened with wire, and by great nosegays of flowers which resembled a garden flower-pot. it is only on condition that no violence is done to the decrees of fashion or to the ideas she would suggest, that so much liberty is allowed. we think that the result is most satisfactory, as there is an infinite variety to please the eye, and there are abundant opportunities for every one to attend to her own comfort and ease. of course there have been, and still are, certain fashions which are quite "dirigueur" among the really fashionable world, and which are annoying to the public generally, such as large crinolines and long skirts, and more especially the long trains which are now in vogue. crinolines, though reduced in size, are not discarded, except in some instances which, as our eyes are not yet accustomed to their absence, present a scarcely decent appearance. one word more before we close this division of our subject. if persons are inclined to rail against fashion and denounce it, let them remember that there is a fashion in everything. in thought, in politics, in physic, in art, in architecture, in science, in speech, in language, and even in religion we find fashion to have a guiding and governing power. how can we otherwise account for the change which has taken place in language, which is not the same that it was fifty years ago? there are phrases which have become obsolete; there are words which have been almost lost out of our vocabulary, which have changed their meaning, or which fashion has tabooed. and in other matters we find alterations which can only be accounted for by the fact that fashions change. they are not the result of development simply, which may and must frequently occur in sciences; but they are the result of those variations in custom and usage for which it is impossible to find any more expressive word than that of fashion. why then should not dress have its fashions also, and why should not those fashions change as time advances, and why should not fashion rule in this as in other things? * * * * * iv.--expense of dress. this is a portion of our subject which awakens the liveliest interest in persons of both sexes. it is the complaint of many men of our times that the dress of women is a very costly affair. the complaint is often made apparently under a sense of wrong, as if they had been made to suffer from it. some time ago considerable attention was directed to the subject by some letters which appeared in one of the leading journals of the day, in which grave reflections were made upon the exceeding costliness of dress at the present time. it was said to exceed that of any former age, and to be the reason why so many young men flinch from the idea of matrimony. among these requirements dress occupies a prominent place. the style and variety of dress which is affirmed to be necessary for young ladies in the highest grade of society renders it no easy matter for them to find men both qualified and willing to afford them sufficient funds to procure what custom had created into a necessity. it may be owing to the quantity of material which the dressmakers require in order to make a dress, as well as to the variety which fashion has prescribed. at all events, let people say what they may, we believe that there is no doubt whatever that the expense of dress has become very much greater than it was thirty years ago. a dressmaker could then make a very first-rate gown, suited to any function at court or elsewhere, for ten or twelve pounds, whereas now the most ordinary gown, suitable to wear only at a family dinner-party, cannot be made for less than fourteen or fifteen pounds. a ball gown will cost eighteen or twenty pounds; and in paris a thousand francs, (forty pounds,) is considered nothing out of the way; and evening and ball dresses often cost two thousand francs each. it is not surprising then that, if this is the ordinary expense of a lady's dress, men should hesitate before they embark in matrimony, and add so large an item to their expenditure. we remember to have heard it said that five hundred a year pin-money was a very small allowance for a young married woman; that it would require the most wonderful management to enable her to dress well and keep within her income. of course every one knows that there are many women who dress upon infinitely less; but we are speaking of those who profess to dress well, and whose position in society requires them to be well dressed. what then is the reason why dress has become so expensive? is it because the materials which are in use are costly, or is it because the needlewomen are better paid, and, wages being higher, dressmakers' charges are also higher in proportion? we do not believe that either of these are the cause; but simply that a larger quantity is required, and that variety has become a "sine-quâ-non." some years ago the cost of a silk dress was about half what it is now,--not because the price of silk has increased, but because a much larger quantity is required. perhaps of the two, silk is cheaper than it used to be; but where ten and twelve yards sufficed, twenty and twenty-three are scarcely sufficient. then the variety that is considered indispensable adds to the cost of dress. where three or four dresses constituted the wardrobe of many, three times that number are now considered a scanty supply. some ladies do not like to wear the same dress twice at the same place; and, if they visit in the country, take with them luggage enough for a twelvemonth, and appear daily, and, in some instances, three times a day, in some fresh costume. it may perhaps be said that these are exceptional cases, but they are not so. ladies-maids, servants, and even village girls have more gowns now than persons of the same class had formerly. this adds to the cost of dress, and makes it altogether a more expensive affair than it used to be. our fore-mothers who rejoiced in farthingales had, no doubt, the most costly attire, but it lasted longer, and became the inheritance of children and children's children; besides which their wardrobes were not by any means so expensive as that of a "grande dame" of . materials are an important element in the matter of dress, and we propose, in the few remarks we shall make on the subject of expense, to offer some suggestions which shall tend to make it less. in the first place every _young_ lady is without excuse who spends a large sum annually upon her dress, for she possesses in her youth that which makes the most simple and inexpensive attire the most suitable and becoming. everything is appropriate to youth. the freshest flowers of the garden, the plainest muslins, tarlatans and tulles do not come amiss. in the country fresh flowers are more admissible than those that are artificial. in london it is the reverse. the heat of a crowded ball-room soon makes the brightest flowers wither; besides which there would be an affectation in a young lady's making her appearance in a london ball-room decked, like the goddess flora, with real flowers; while all the world prefer the artificial as the least troublesome and the most enduring. for the young, cheap and inexpensive materials are often the most effective. heavy silks and satins are out of place. it is more a question of colour and make than material. how often a bright green and white muslin, or even cotton, well made and well put on, worn by a pretty girl with a good complexion and graceful "tournure," puts to shame and thoroughly eclipses a more costly and elaborate "toilette!" how often we have been charmed by the appearance, at the breakfast table, of a young fresh looking girl, who in her simple and unpretending, but well-selected attire, suggests all that is most beautiful in nature, the early sunrise, the opening rose-bud, encased in its calix of tender green! such a sight has refreshed while it has gratified the eye, and if the young only knew how very little is required to add to those charms which are the property of youth, they would not be at so much pains to copy those elaborate "toilettes" which seem to be invented only to repair the inroads and damages of years, and to enrich the dressmakers, and which are quite "de trop," quite out of place with the young. many are the materials which suit the young and which are inexpensive. alpacas of various shades, muslins, foulards, tarlatan, tulle, light silks, light in texture as well as colours. these are not expensive materials. we remember at this moment an exceedingly effective costume, made of white alpaca with a narrow green stripe, which was worn with a crinoline bonnet trimmed with mauve. the bonnet and dress did not cost more than _£ s_., and scarcely as much. it was made at home, and all that was required for the gown was nothing when compared to the bills which the most ordinary dressmaker would have run up for tapes and buttons, and hooks and eyes. but dressmakers have their fortunes to make, and it is well for them that there are people in the world who are rich enough to employ them. some dressmakers refuse to make up what is called "the lady's own materials,"--that is, they require their customers to buy the materials of them, and therefore it is by no means difficult to understand that, under such circumstances, a dressmaker's bill may reach any amount, and their profits become enormous. compared with the supplies of thirty years ago there is no doubt that the materials out of which ladies may make their selection have increased very considerable. the variety of foulards, of gauzes, of alpacas, of camlets, of poplins, poplinettes, and japanese silks, and even of silks themselves, which vary from three shillings to eight and nine shillings the yard, of satins, of velvets, and velveteens, have brought dress within the scope of moderate incomes. each year some novelty is introduced, and a clever hit in the name given to it makes it popular; just as that of "japanese silk" made people run eagerly after a material of home manufacture, which is made of silk and cotton. there are a host of other materials cheaper still, which may be obtained for a few shillings the dress, some of which are not by any means to be despised. with so great a supply, it is strange that dress should be so costly; but the fact is, that this is an age in which people are more disposed to ape their betters than to dress according to their means. if, however, they desire to spend only a small sum, they must take some trouble about it, and must contrive how to produce a good result with simple and even common materials. the great improvement in muslins and in calicoes--the good patterns which are printed on common linens--have made it quite inexcusable for people to dress ill. some of the prettiest costumes that we have seen have been made in cheap materials, and persons who have admired them have been quite astonished to find that they have bestowed their admiration upon an "inferior article." for autumn wear there are camlets, alpacas, and serge of all colours, which are designated "yachting and sea-side costumes," but which are suitable for all places. their effect is exceedingly good, braided or otherwise. they may be got anywhere, though cowes boasts of having the best assortment. we have seen white braided with black, or with a pattern printed on it in black; blue, light and dark; brown; green braided in white, the effect of which has been good; and we have seen scarlet, which is very trying, and more suited for winter. it is effective when toned down with black velvet, but it looks rather heavy and overpowering. for winter, there are droguets, reps in worsted and in silk, merinos, tweeds, linseys, and velveteens. we do not mention silk, because it is universally acknowledged that there is nothing so well suited to all seasons. it looks better than anything else, is the pleasantest to wear, and may be procured of almost any substance. velveteens have a very good effect--better than most materials; and when they are braided well, they are very effective. the black looks the best, and is the most serviceable; and when worn with a mantle, or cloak, or jacket to match, it makes one of the best costumes for walking or driving. the brown velveteen is effective. it is considered warm and light,--two most important qualities for clothing; for, with the amplitude of modern skirts, it is absolutely essential that materials should be light as well as warm. for spring and summer it is needless to specify more materials than have been already named. the only point to be considered is that in spring, dress should be, in our uncertain climate, suited to changes of weather, and temperature, and should be in harmony with the season when nature is putting on her best apparel, and woods and fields become hourly more green and full of vegetation. in summer, dress should be light and cool and quiet; because, beneath a glowing sun, bright colours do not please, unless they harmonize with the blue sky or green earth. the second important point in matters of dress is the make or cut. upon this depends the question whether cheap materials can be worn. an ordinary stuff or calico well made, fashionably made, and well put on, is never out of place. it, not unfrequently, puts to shame many richer materials which are not so well made nor so well selected. this question of make or cut (call it which you please) is not sufficiently considered, especially by the young. some people think no one can be well dressed who is not expensively dressed, whose gown is not richly trimmed; but it is a great mistake. many persons are absolutely ill-dressed who spend a fortune upon their clothes. the young should bear in mind that simplicity is what harmonizes best with youth, but care must be taken to avoid the simplicity of the school-room and of a "miss in her teens." we can call to mind a young lady who made her appearance at an evening party in london, where "all the world and his wife" were collected together, and when it was necessary to be somewhat smart, in a rather skimp spotted muslin, with a black belt and a few black cherries in her hair. she looked, as the reader will easily believe, like a young lady in her teens, who, as byron said, "smells of bread and butter." she was much on the wrong side of twenty. by her side stood a young girl who had not passed nineteen summers, dressed in the freshest costume of plain white tulle, with bright turquoise blue flowers in her hair, the very impersonation of youth and loveliness. the cost of the dress of these two young ladies was about the same, but the appearance of the two was by no means the same. the one was fresh and simple; the other simple but unfresh. the one attracted; the other repelled. at the same time we saw two sisters, one a blonde and the other dark, dressed unadvisedly alike in dark blue tarlatan, with an infinite number of beads round the body, peplum, and sleeves. it was in the height of summer, and the costume looked fusty and oppressive; while not far off stood a young girl in a white and green tarlatan dress prettily trimmed with old lace and green ribbon, with one large white flower in her hair--the very type of spring and early summer. none of these costumes were expensive, but they had widely different results. we return to our former assertion that it is the _make_ which renders a common material wearable in any,--even the very best society. it requires, of course, a knowledge of the prevailing fashion, which may easily be arrived at by the simple process of taking in "le follet," or some good monthly publication on fashions. it requires also a correct eye and a good taste to select such materials as shall harmonize well with the style which is in favour. it requires, above all, a good workwoman, who knows how to cut out, how to put in the gores, how to arrange the breadths, where to put the fulness; where to make the dress full, and where tight, how to avoid creases, how to cut the sleeves, and how to put them in, how to give the arm sufficient room so that the back shall not pucker, how to cut the body so that short waisted ladies shall not seem to have too short a waist, nor long-waisted ladies too long a one. this important question of a good lady's-maid is one upon which depends the probability of being well dressed and economically dressed. it is absolutely necessary for a person of moderate means, to whom the needless out-lay of a shilling is of real importance, to make her things at home. if she cannot make them herself, she must find a clever needle-woman who has learned her business, and knows milliner's phraseology and the meaning of terms, and how to cut out to the best advantage. she will then be able to use common material, buy smaller quantities of them, and will always look well dressed. her gown will always be ironed when it wants ironing; it will be mended whenever a stitch has broken loose; the collars and cuffs will always be clean and of the right shape and size; and no one will enquire into the quality and cost of the material of which the effect is so pleasing. a lady's-maid that is quick and efficient is the best friend a lady can have who wishes to be well dressed and at a small expense. she saves her wages again and again. but not so with a lady's-maid who does not understand her business. if she is always requiring assistance, and cannot make the simplest gown without a needle-woman to help her, and will not attempt a smart dress at all, or who makes it so slow that either the occasion for which it is required slips by, or a much longer notice is necessary than the most fashionable dressmaker would demand in the very height of the london season, instead of being useful, she is an incumbrance. the dressmaker's bill is not avoided. a steady lady's-maid who is quick at her needle and quick with her eye, can always command good wages and a good place, and they who possess such a treasure will never be willing to part with her. any one who has not thoroughly gone into the question would not believe what a saving it is to "make at home." it is not only that the milliner's bill is saved, but the materials which are used do not cost so much. nor is this all, an efficient lady's-maid can clean and turn and re-make dresses so as to give them the look of new. to those who have but small incomes, it is of great importance not to be under the necessity of making frequent additions to their wardrobes, and anyone who can, by good management, enable them to wear a dress longer than they otherwise would, saves them, in the end, considerable outlay. we have heard ladies say that nothing has provoked them more than the way in which their maids can make up for themselves dresses which they have laid aside. they can, by dint of sponging and washing, and pressing, and ironing by turning, and many other ways known to them, make their ladies' cast off clothes look as good as new, and many a lady has, before now, looked with envy upon an old dress which reappears in a new character, looking quite as fresh and attractive as ever, under the magic hand of a clever and practical needle-woman. we maintain then, that, though the present style of dress may be expensive on account of the enormous quantity of material which is required, there is no real reason why it should be so costly as it is supposed to be. if ladies will give some attention to the make or cut and style of their dresses, the most simple materials will look exceedingly effective. it only requires judgment, good taste, and some forethought and contrivance. we recommend as of primary importance, in order to be well and economically dressed, that people of slender means should have their dresses made at home, and should secure the services of a clever needle-woman who knows how to cut out and make, and has learned the mysteries of the art of dressmaking. with her assistance there is no reason why a home-made dress should not bear comparison with those of madame descon of london, or of mr. wirth of paris. it is in the style, that first-class dressmakers excel. it is not in the actual needlework, which is often a very inferior affair. if, with the help of "le follet," ladies will give some attention to the subject of dress, and will assist their maids with suggestions and approval, they will find themselves amply repaid, not only by their own personal appearance, but also by the small outlay of money. * * * * * v.--accessories. there are an infinite variety of things which are necessary in order to make a woman thoroughly well dressed, which do not come under the category of dresses. some of these must be discussed, as they are of great importance. to begin with bonnets. how much of a lady's toilette depends upon her bonnet!--upon its make, its shape, its style, and the materials it is made of! in these days, bonnets are much less ugly than they formerly were. they are not set at the back of the head as they used to be, when they made every woman look as if her neck had been broken. they offered no advantage. they did not screen the face from sun and wind, and no ladies could keep them on their heads without the help of long pins like skewers. the bonnet, as now worn, scarcely deserves the name of a bonnet. it is more like a cap than a bonnet; but, such as it is, it is exceedingly becoming to the young--more especially the style which has most recently come into fashion, in which, while it ties behind, below the chignon or large plait of hair, long ends of tulle, or lace, or blonde fall round the cheek, and fasten under the chin with a brooch or a flower. the effect of the lace against the face is very preferable to that of the fold of hard ribbon which was generally worn, and which was utterly devoid of all grace. besides which, we have heard ladies praise the last fashion as being the most comfortable, because the absence of strings fastened under the chin enables them to eat, and sing, and talk without the necessity of taking off the bonnet, or of untying it. the extreme lightness of the modern bonnet is in itself a great recommendation. but if a bonnet is intended as a protection to the head from sun, wind, and rain, then, indeed, it must be allowed that the present fashion does not fulfil any of those intentions. a small saucer of tulle, or three-cornered bit of lace ornamented with a few flowers, which fits on the head in the small space that intervenes between the front hair and the beginning of the chignon, where it stops in order that the huge mass of hair now worn at the back of the head may be fully exhibited, does not do more than make a very pretty toilette. useful and serviceable as a protection, it is not. but when it is contrasted with bonnets which were worn a few years ago, or with those which our mothers and grandmothers wore, we confess that we are glad of the change. no lady ought to be indifferent about her bonnet. it is to her face what the setting is to a jewel. the arrangement of the lace or blonde; the way it accords with the countenance; the harmony of colour with the rest of the dress, which in some instances it tones down by its quietness, and in others brightens and freshens by its contrast; all these are points to be considered. it is impossible not to be guided by fashion in the selection of a bonnet, and the same fashion will prescribe how it is to be trimmed, but, as a rule, we protest against beads and tinsel of all kinds. if beads must be used, they should be used sparingly. we saw a bonnet this year which was nothing but black beads, which were designated by the high-sounding name of "black pearls." the bonnet was heavy, and very ugly; and when we remonstrated against it, we were assured it had just arrived from paris--as if the announcement of such a fact was, in itself, enough to silence all objections. but it had no effect upon us, for the bonnet was objectionable on every ground--on account of its weight and appearance. in london, as it is necessary to have a succession of bonnets, which soon become discoloured and spoilt by the soot and dirt of our great metropolis, all that really signifies is that they should look fresh and clean, and in harmony with the dresses with which they are worn; and therefore it is important they should be cheap. to give three guineas and even more, and perhaps five, for a bonnet which will last for only one month is an expensive proceeding; and when it is considered that really pretty bonnets can be bought for eighteen shillings, which look quite as well as those which are more costly, they are without excuse who do not manage to have always one nice-looking bonnet for special occasions. we have known some ladies who are clever and wise enough to make their own bonnets, and then the cost of them is about five or six shillings each. if the lady's maid is clever and handy, and knows how to make them, she will probably make them quite as well as any professed milliners. all that is required is to understand what fits and suits the person for whom the bonnet is intended. every one finds that one shape suits her better than another. the next point in making a bonnet is that the "artiste" should have a light hand, and should make it "off-hand," without letting it lie about to get soiled or tumbled. things which are not expensive, but are made of common materials, should look fresh. if they have that merit, no one will examine them very closely to see whether the lace is real, or the flowers of the first quality. satisfied with the general effect and style, no inquiries will be instituted into the cost of the materials. people are not so particular where their eye is pleased. on the contrary, where the effect is good, cheapness increases its value in the estimation of those who know that one and one make two. no one can make bonnets, or indeed any kind of headgear, without one of those hideous figure-heads called "blocks," upon which the bonnet or the cap is made, without risk of injury. this is the only way in which the milliner can form any idea of the effect of her handiwork. she can turn it about to get the full, side, and back view of her performance, without touching the article in question, which, if it is mauled about ever so little, soon loses its freshness. as we have long ago discarded the picturesque from bonnets, and the famous "chapeau de paille" has been laid aside, there is an advantage in the fact that the present style is unobtrusive; and strong-minded women who cling tenaciously to their beloved old coal-scuttle shape, and deride the present fashion, indignantly exclaiming against it, "call that thing a bonnet, indeed?" certainly tempts us to reply to their prejudiced and absurd reflections, "physician, heal thyself;" for if there is one thing more ugly than another, it is the old-fashioned bonnet with crown, curtain, and poke, to which a few old maids rigidly adhere--just as quakeresses do to their hideous and antiquated style. there is a kind of self-righteousness in the protests of these ladies, with which we confess that we have no sympathy. we do not mean to recommend them to adopt the bonnet of a girl of eighteen, but we do advise them to conform to the fashion of the day, and wear a modified edition of the present and prevailing costume. it is remarkable how straw always retains its hold as a material for bonnets. a straw bonnet, is, however, a more expensive article than one of tulle; but then it is more enduring, and better suited for country wear. there is also another advantage in straw: it never looks vulgar. a country lass in a bonnet of silk, or lace, or tulle, does not look one-half as well as one in a straw bonnet, neatly trimmed. straw is becoming to persons of all ages and of every station. it makes a vulgar woman look less vulgar, and the lady more refined. though common, it is never so in an offensive sense. caps have become an important item, from the fact that women of all ages wear something of the kind. the young girl who has passed from girlhood into matrimony, considers it necessary that some of those little caps made of lace and ribbons and which have such a coquettish look about them, should form part of her trousseau. she is as glad to exercise her new privilege of wearing a cap as an undergraduate is of wearing his cap and gown. it is a sign that she has passed to what she considers the higher state, although she knows that there are many high authorities for the contrary; but she remembers that "doctors differ," and she hails her privilege as one to which she has been always taught to look forward. what can be more becoming than some of those jaunty caps which seem to mock at age? here, again, we have a manifest improvement in the head-gear of ancient times. think of the turbans, the gigantic hats and caps of blonde which were made to stand erect by means of wire, and which surrounded the face like fans at full stretch, or (more gracious simile) like the nimbus round the head of a mediæval saint. contrast these with the little caps which ornament the head with lace, as only lace can ornament it, and you will see at once how superior the present fashion is. it is not only that these pretty and mysterious fabrics of lace and ribbon are an ornament to the loveliest and most youthful; but they have worked a revolution in the caps of elderly ladies. instead of the cap with its frill of blonde intermixed with narrow ribbon or small flowers, fitting close to the face like a fringe and tying under the chin, we see small and becoming head dresses of lace, which sufficiently furnish the cheeks and cover the hair. where it can be done, the cap of the most elderly woman should appear to dress and furnish her head rather than her face, though, if need be, it can be made to soften the asperities of age where they have marked the countenance. mantles or cloaks are a difficult question. when everybody of every station wears a cloak or mantle we are disposed to recommend shawls, especially as a really good indian shawl cannot be imitated, and denotes the quality and condition of the wearer. every servant girl, every maid of all work, has her sunday cloak. none but the rich can sport an indian shawl. it requires falling shoulders and a tall and graceful figure. it should not be fastened round the throat as if the wearer suffered from a severe cold in her throat; but it should have the appearance of being loosely put on; neither fastened tightly on, nor falling off. square shawls are always more ugly than not. if the wearer has not a very erect carriage, and if her shoulders are not well thrown back, the chances are that the effect of a square shawl will be anything but pleasing. if the lady stoops, or is at all round-shouldered, the shawl will have the effect of a window that has been cracked by a stone--it will look starred--it will not be smooth and even, but will present the appearance of lines radiating from the defective shoulders. for grace there is nothing like a scarf shawl, but only a few can, or know how to, wear it. under these circumstances a cloak or a mantle are safer. there is an infinite variety to choose from, but as the names and the fashion vary year by year it is useless to specify any. for the same reason, this constant change, it is best not to invest much capital in the purchase of one. young people can wear smaller and shorter mantles than their elders, who require something larger and more imposing. in winter there is nothing to compare to a seal skin; so much so that even an imitation is not to be despised. velvets are ladylike, but they are expensive, and have not the durability of a seal skin. velveteen cloaks are good and reasonable. blue cloth or serge, braided with black, look well, and have been in favour for some time. we have seen a grey cloth cloak braided with black which has been much admired; also one of dark green cloth lined with grey, and, vice versâ, of grey lined with green. for winter, the effect of lining a cloth cloak with another colour in good contrast is decidedly good. but everything depends upon the shape and cut of the cloak. it is the shape that tells far more than the material. in france we find gloves and shoes have a prominent place among the accessories of a lady's toilette. to be "bien chaussee et bien gantee" is essential to being well dressed. good, well fitting gloves and shoes tell more than most other things among the french. at least a somewhat shabby and unpretending gown and bonnet, if accompanied by gloves that are of a good quality and colour and that fit well, and by shoes or boots that also fit well, and are of good style and make, will pass muster anywhere, while the reverse will fail. it is remarkable that there is nothing which distinguishes a foreigner from an englishwoman more than her gloves. they "fit like a glove;" they are of a good colour, according well with the rest of the costume, neither too light nor too dark, but rather light than dark. there are no ends or corners of the fingers which are not well filled; there are no creases indicative of the gloves being of a wrong size, nor are they put on crooked with a twist given to the fingers, so that the seams of the glove do not appear straight. in short, a frenchwoman does not put on her glove anyhow as an englishwoman does. to her it is a matter of great importance; to our country-woman it is a matter of indifference. we think the frenchwoman right, because it is by what are called trifles that good and also great effects are produced. we come now to an accessory of considerable importance--the hair. as a great amount of time is expended upon hair-dressing, and as no one ever thinks of wearing it in its natural state, and as nothing is more under the influence of fashion than the hair, it has become by consent of all an accessory of great importance. will any one affirm that it is a matter of indifference how the hair is dressed? whether in plaits or bows? whether in a crop, or twisted up in a coil? there is nothing which affects a lady's personal appearance more than the style in which she dresses her hair. we confess that we have a strong prejudice against a too submissive following of the fashion. because in the first place we deny that fashion is always in the right, and in the second it rarely happens that the same style exactly suits two persons alike. nothing requires more consideration than the hair. it is one of a woman's greatest ornaments. we have high authority for saying this. hair should always have the appearance of being well cared for. it should set off the shape of the head if it is good, and not aggravate any of its defects. a small head, well set on, is a great beauty. it tends more than anything else to that distinguished look which enhances all other beauty. beauty, if accompanied by a look of refinement, is worth more than mere animal beauty, and nothing is more indicative of refinement and noble birth as a well-shaped head. it is the head which gives the impression of intellectual power. the well formed brow should not be demoralized by ringlets, which are suggestive only of a wax doll, nor should it be disfigured by being surmounted by a kind of cushion or roll of hair which gives the idea of weight and size. nor should the hair have the appearance of a bird's nest, and look tumbled and untidy. this was lately the "beau ideal" of a well dressed head. it was desired that it should appear unkempt and uncombed, as if it had been drawn through a quickset hedge. the back of the head, if well shaped, has a beautiful appearance, reminding one of a stag, which is so graceful in look and motion. but when it is disfigured by a large mass of hair, resembling a large pin-cushion, all that peculiar native grace which we so much admire is lost sight of. when all heads are made to look alike and equally large, there is no advantage in having a small and well shaped head. it seems as if the study of the present day were to make the head look large, and to conceal all its points. we miss the smooth braids of hair which set off the expanse of forehead, and the coils of plaits of hair, which ornamented, but did not conceal the back of the head. we miss the glossy look of the hair which indicated care, and prefer it infinitely to that which simulates neglect. it is perfectly true that one style does not suit all persons alike, any more than that the powder which was worn by our great-grandmothers was equally becoming to all. a low forehead, if the points of the brow are good, should have the hair drawn off it, whereas a high forehead which does not betoken any great intellectual power is disfigured by the same process. smooth braids will not become a long face, nor puffs a broad one. a forehead which is already too high cannot bear to be heightened by coronets and cushions of hair, nor a countenance which indicates weakness to be made weaker still by limp luxurious curls. a stern face requires to be softened, while a weak one requires strength. the hair can generally do this. it depends upon how it is dressed. they who are no longer young endeavour to impose upon the world by the use of wigs and fronts. these are an abomination, and in every instance they are easy of detection. there is something in the way in which false hair protests against the face and the face against it, which infallibly exposes it to be false. a lady with all the signs of years about her face makes her age the more apparent by the contrast of glossy dark hair which belongs to youth. why is she afraid to wear her own grey hair? grey hairs are no reproof, and we are quite sure they would harmonize better with the other marks of age than the wigs and fronts which prevail. there is something in the white hair of age which has a charm of its own. it is like the soft and mellow light of sunset. but unfortunately an old woman is not always inclined to accept the fact that she is old. she would rebel against it, but rebellion is useless. the fact remains the same. she is old notwithstanding her "rouge" pot and her front, and she is growing older day by day. jewellery is another accessory. jewels, real jewels, are in the possession of only a few. they are so costly that only millionaires or the heirs of heirlooms can have them. they are very beautiful, and have this one merit, that a few jewels, judiciously selected and worn, make a person well dressed at once. a diamond necklace and brooch, diamond earrings, and a few diamond stars glittering in the hair, will make almost a shabby dress pass muster at court. but jewellery is a term that is applied to ornaments generally, and not to jewels only. sham jewellery is an abomination. it is a lie, and a pretension. at no time was so much sham jewellery made and worn. every damsel has her brooches and her earrings. in nine cases out of ten they are mere trumpery, but, such as they are, no maid of all work will go out for her sunday walk without her brooch and earrings and chain. she must have her locket too, fastened round her throat with black velvet, but it is all, with the exception of the velvet, a sham. ladies too have a weakness for sham jewellery. they will wear massive bracelets, cameo brooches of target dimensions, earrings, chains, all of what they pleasantly call french manufacture. it is called _french_ in the shops in order to soften down its imposture, and to play upon the weakness of our country women who are apt to think that whatever is french must be good. but in many cases they are of birmingham manufacture. we enter our protest very strongly against the use of sham jewellery, though we must own without much hope of success, for, it must be admitted, that a great quantity of it is exceedingly pretty. we are not surprised that it should be popular, for who can resist the opportunity of making herself fine and "beautiful for ever" at the cost of a few shillings, which is all that is necessary to lay in a fair stock of jewellery. this sham jewellery is continually mistaken for real, so good is the resemblance. if a duchess were to wear it everyone would take for granted that it was real, because she would not be supposed to wear anything that is unreal. we have heard of a lady who, possessing but very few jewels, always makes up for the deficiency by wearing sham diamonds. they are good of their kind, and no one ever suspects them to be false, simply because there is no reason why she should not have real diamonds, but, on the contrary, so far as the world knows, every reason why she should. in the use of jewellery more than in anything else we maintain that all persons should dress according to their station and their means. if they can afford it--let them--but we recommend them not to act too much upon the old saying, that "fine feathers make fine birds," but to bear in mind that being well dressed means something more than well-fitting, well-selected clothes. * * * * * vi.--"a few words more." it is very difficult, we might say impossible, to give any definite rules about dress. fashions change so continually, that if we were to write a dissertation upon peplums, and trains, and gores, or give directions how to cut them out or make them, almost by the time this manual should come into circulation, they would have become portions of the past, and our hints would seem absurd and out of place. all that has seemed feasible to us we have done, which has been to give certain hints that the rocks upon which so many split, who make great endeavours to be well dressed, might be avoided by our readers. there is no doubt that every one wishes to dress well, whatever her means may be; and that no one thinks she dresses ill, whatever the world may think of her performance. we look at ourselves through coloured glass, and are apt to take the most favourable view of our own peculiarities-- "o, wad some power the giftie gie us, to see ourselves as others see us." there are rules in dress, as there are in painting, which, if observed, will prevent our making "frights" of ourselves. anyone who starts for herself on a new line, and, throwing to the wind the received laws, adopts and carries out some crude theory of her own, however much she may entertain herself by her experiments, runs a great chance of making a figure of herself, and will infallibly obtain a reputation for conceit and affectation. no woman, unless she is a star of great magnitude, or a belle of note, can with impunity set at nought the received customs. she is by no means bound to follow fashion so implicitly and subserviently as to mar her own beauty. but a clever woman will always be able to avoid affronting fashion while she takes a line of her own. we use this phrase with a certain limitation, because if a woman were to take a line of her own unrestricted by certain "convenances" of society and of fashion, she would certainly fall into the very error which we should be the first to declaim against, namely--the error of eccentricity. a due regard for these "convenances" will ensure that sense of propriety in dress which will make everyone remember both her station and her means. the fine lady will not effect the simplicity of the village girl, nor the village girl aspire to be mistaken for the fine lady. both will maintain their own positions, and will be respected while they maintain them. let it also be borne in mind that a bonnet or cap, mantle or gown, may be very pretty in itself and very becoming to some persons, but not necessarily to everyone; generally to only a few. the young and the old have each their privileges. the one must not dress like the other. though we have seen some who have been foolish enough to forget the years that have passed, and cannot realise the fact that they are no longer young, and vie with the youngest in the youthfulness of their attire, we do not, we admit, often find the young endeavouring to make themselves look older than they are. one who has thought much and written well on this subject says, "doubtless if there were any way of making old people young, either in looks or anything else, it would be a delightful invention; but meanwhile juvenile dressing is the last road we should recommend them to take." in conclusion, let every woman bear in mind that dress denotes character, that there is a symbolism in dress which they who have studied the matter can read without difficulty. how to carve. * * * * * the dinner-table. so long as the taste for dinners _à la russe_ shall continue, it does not seem absolutely necessary for lady or gentleman to take the trouble to learn to carve. but the idle and wasteful fashion of employing servants to cut up your food after their own fancy, and of sitting round a board bereft of all appearance of dinner except the salt-cellars and glasses, to watch flowers and fresh fruit decay and droop in the midst of the various smells of the hot meats, while waiting to receive such portions as your attendant chooses to bestow on you, is so opposed to the social, hospitable, and active habits of an english gentleman that it must soon pass away, and the tempting spread on the generous board, pleasant to the eye as well as to the taste, resume its place. dexterity, grace, and tact in carving and distributing the delicate morsels of the dish, have been many a man's passport into popularity. nor is this accomplishment unworthy of cultivation in the elegant woman; affording a pretext, too, for that assistance of some favoured neighbour which men love to offer to the fair. the number of guests to be invited to constitute an agreeable dinner is no longer restricted to the old rule of never less than the number of the graces, nor more than that of the muses. large tables, well-trained servants, dinners _à la russe_, and a greater facility in furnishing the viands for the table than formerly existed, have enabled families to extend the number received, and dinners of from twelve to twenty are common, and more convenient than several small dinners. the invitations should be sent out, if possible, a fortnight previous to the dinner, to avoid disappointment; and etiquette commands the reply to be immediate, to allow the host to fill up his table in case of refusals. the size of the table must always be a first consideration, for all enjoyment of the good things spread before them will be marred if people be crowded; and on the contrary, the table must not be too large for the party: nothing can be more gloomy than a scattered company or an empty chair. from - / to feet is a fair calculation for each person, especially since the dimensions of crinolines is lessened; but no more should be allowed. there is another grand point to remember in issuing invitations--the important social arrangement of the guests. no man of good sense would invite the capulets to meet the montagues,--a blunder which inevitably checks many topics of conversation, throwing a damp on all attempts to promote universal enjoyment. be careful at any rate to assemble, as far as your convenience and judgment permit, the elements of harmony, and you have fulfilled your duty. it is desirable not to have many great talkers, but if you invariably must have some, then match them with good listeners. in laying the cloth, care should be taken, not only that the table should occupy the centre of the room, but that the cloth should be spread to leave the pattern in the centre of the table, with the design proceeding from the head, and as the cloth is now almost universally left on the table for the dessert, lay-overs or slips are placed round, broad enough to reach two or three inches beyond the plate, to be carefully removed in folds when the crumb-brush has been used after the dinner is removed. the table being spread, and the dinner announced by the butler or principal waiting servant, the lady of the house must quietly indicate the arrangement of her guests according to rank, age, or any local or occasional distinction, the master of the house leading out the first lady, and the mistress following last with the most distinguished gentleman, who, seated at her right hand, is her assistant in the duties of the table. the soup and fish are usually placed on the table together, and the covers removed at once; the soup to the lady, the fish before the master; or if two soups, and one should be turtle, that must be at the head. soup is sent round without inquiry to everybody, to be accepted or rejected at pleasure. sauterne, sherry, or madeira may be offered after the soup. after turtle soup, punch is the correct liquor. the fish is carved and served round in the same way as the soup, if only one kind of fish be served; if more, the choice must be left to the guest. after the soup and fish are served, the removes, as they are generally termed, that is, the _pieces de résistance_, the stronghold of the dinner, are brought in; but before they are carved, two or more _entrées_ are usually handed round, and if champagne be introduced, this is the time for it to be offered. in carving the removes, a servant must be at the side of the carver with the plate, which he must as quickly as possible pass to the guest for whom it is required, another servant following with the vegetables or sauces. if only one servant be employed, the vegetables should be on the table, that the guests may help themselves, for nothing can be more vexatious than to have to wait for them for a quarter of an hour after you have been served with the meat. the same may be said of the sauces, so often, at a scantily-attended table, withheld until you no longer care for them. such wines as the master of the house chooses to bestow must be offered when needed. water _caraffes_ will be within the reach of all, and beer, if called for, must be served. in the matter of carving, it should be held in mind that the flavour and the digestibility of the meat depends greatly on the careful mode of cutting it. a delicate stomach may be disgusted with a thick coarse slice, an undue proportion of fat, a piece of skin or gristle; and therefore the carver must have judgment as well as dexterity, must inquire the taste of each guest, and minister discreetly to it. this delicate duty is more fully set forth in the direction for carving each dish. one point it is well to remember: never use a knife when you can help with a spoon. the lighting the dinner-table well is of some importance. people like to see their dinner, but lamps and candles on the table are liable to accidents. gas is also objectionable; the heat from it is oppressive, and the light too glaring to be pleasant to the eyes, or becoming to female beauty: chandeliers with wax lights or a suspended and shaded lamp we would recommend as most favourable to the banquet and the company. few dishes are now placed on the table at dessert. there should be at least three glasses placed before each guest, one of which must be of coloured glass, and water-tumblers here and there at hand. to each, also, a dessert-plate, a knife, fork, nut-crackers, and d'oyley; the decanters of such wines as the host chooses to bring forth, on their proper stands; and salt-cellars, and sugar-vases with perforated ladles, must also be on the table. when the lady of the house perceives that her female guests have taken the wine they wish, she signifies by a slight inclination the request to leave the table, and on her rising some chivalrous gentleman opens the door for the ladies to pass into the drawing-room, where it is the duty of the mistress of the house to offer the usual amusements to her friends--music, books of drawings, or conversation; but few efforts are required among well-bred guests. coffee should then be brought in. if only one servant be employed, every lady must prepare her own cup. when there are two servants, the cups are on one tray, and the second attendant follows with the coffee-pot, and fills the cup of each person. if the gentlemen in the dining-room do not join the ladies immediately, coffee is served to them at table when required; and when they appear in the drawing-room, tea is handed round. the greatest aid to the pleasure of a mixed party is that ease of manner which the habits of good society produce. when the hosts are composed and cheerful, the company commonly follow the example, and awkward restraint disappears. * * * * * carving. though in the present day no lady would be permitted to perform the heavier duties of carving for a large company unassisted, yet it is by no means inconsistent with the character of a well-bred woman to understand, and occasionally to practise, the duty. in the middle classes this duty is not unusually taken by the wife of a man whom business may often detain from his home; and a skilful and economical carver is no bad helpmate for a hard-working professional man. men ought to know how to carve any joint or dish set before them, or, however high their standing in the world, they appear awkward and clownish; and, therefore, all men should practise the art of carving in their youth. the first necessary provisions for carving are the proper utensils; the most skilful of artists would be defeated in his aim if he had not his tools. the carving-knives and forks are now made specially for the various dishes. the fish-carvers, of silver or silvered metal--the touch of steel destroys the flavour of the fish--should be broad, so that the flakes be not broken in raising. for the joints of meat, a long, very sharp steel blade; and for poultry and game, a long-handled but short and pointed blade, to be inserted dexterously between the small joints of the birds. the forks must be two-pronged, and the dish must be sufficiently near to the carver to give an easy command over it. having the needful utensils for work, all now depends on the coolness, confidence, and dexterity of the carver, with that small knowledge of anatomy that enables him to know what joints there must be in the _piece_ before him, and where they are situated. in butcher's meat, one rule is almost universal: the slice cut must be cut across the fibres of the meat, and not along them; a process which renders it more easy to masticate and digest. the exceptions to this rule are the fillet or under-cut in a sirloin of beef, and the slices along the bone in a saddle of mutton. in cutting a joint of meat, the strong fork is used to steady it; but in carving poultry it is the fork which is most useful in removing the wing and leg by a jerk, without leaving any ragged remains adhering to the body. all this must be accomplished by dexterity, not by strength, and any lady may acquire the art by a little observation and practice. a knife should never be used for pies, _entrées_, or sweet dishes; a spoon wherever a spoon can be used. in helping to choice dishes, stuffings, &c., the carver should always calculate the number of the company, and proportion the delicacies discreetly. * * * * * fish. turbot. there is more art in delicately carving the imperial turbot than any other fish, in order that every one may be supplied with the rich skin and fins, so highly appreciated by epicures. it is always brought to table with the white or under-side uppermost, as this is the most delicate part. the point of the fish-knife must be drawn done the middle to the bone, and from thence deep cuts made at right angles, and the squares, thus made, carefully raised, including the portion of fin attached to each. after the upper part is consumed, the back-bone may be removed, and the lower part divided in the same way, neatly, and without breaking the flakes. brill, a fish much inferior in quality, but sometimes introduced as turbot, must be carved in the same way. [illustration] cod-fish. next to turbot, a cod's head and shoulders is the handsomest dish of fish brought to table. the fish-knife must be passed through the back from to , and then transversely in slices. no fish requires more care in helping, for when properly boiled the flakes easily fall asunder, and require a neat hand to prevent the dish looking untidy. with each slice should be sent a portion of the sound, which is the dark lining underneath the back-bone, to be reached with a spoon. part of the liver may be given if required. the gelatinous part about the eye, called the cheek, is also a delicacy, and must be distributed justly, according to the number of the party. [illustration] salmon, etc. [illustration] the best part of a large salmon is a thick piece from the middle. it must be carved by first making an incision down the back, to , and a second from to ; then divide the side to , and cut the slices, as preferred, from the upper or thick part, or from the lower richer thin part, or give a little of each. salmon trout, as it is usually called, haddocks, or large whitings are carved in the same way. mackerel. it is usual to split the fish from head to tail, and, if not very large, to serve it in two pieces. most of the smaller fishes may be carved in this way, if too large to serve whole. in every case, one grand rule in carving fish must be attended to--not to break the flakes, and to help compactly, not in detached fragments. * * * * * joints. haunch of venison, or mutton as venison. it is very necessary that every one who undertakes to carve a haunch of venison should be aware of the responsibility of his duty. an ill-cut or inferior slice, an undue portion of fat, or a deficiency of gravy is an insult to an epicure. the joint must first have a deep incision across the knuckle, to , to allow the gravy to flow; then long parallel thin slices along the line to , with a portion of the fat, and, if required, of the rich kidney fat lying under the loin; the gravy also, which is, or ought to be, very strong, must be discreetly portioned out according to the number at table. the haunch of mutton must be carved in the same way. [illustration] mutton and lamb. saddle of mutton or lamb. this very handsome joint is commonly and easily carved in long thin slices from each side of the bone, with a little additional fat cut from the left side. or, with a little more care, the newer mode may be followed of carving oblique slices from the centre, beginning at the bone near the tail, and cutting the slices through the joint, thus mingling the fat and lean. a saddle of lamb, a pretty dish in season, must be carved in the same way. [illustration] leg of mutton or lamb. the best part of this joint is in the middle, between the knuckle and farther end, and the best way to carve it is to make a deep cut at , and continue to cut thin slices as far as , on each side of the first incision; but as more fat is usually required than lies with the slice, a small neat slice may be added from the broad end at . the cramp-bone may be extracted, if asked for, by cutting down at , and passing the knife under in a semicircle to . the delicate fine meat of the under side, which lies beneath the "pope's eye," is sometimes demanded by epicures. [illustration] shoulder of mutton or lamb. make an incision at down to the bone, which will then afford a deep gap, from which on each side you may help thin slices, adding a little fat from the outer edge marked . if the demands are more than can be supplied at the first opening, additional slices may be obtained by cutting down to the blade-bone, marked , on each side. some of the party may prefer slices from the under side, the meat of which is juicy, though less fine in grain; these must be cut horizontally. loin of mutton. a loin of mutton is always brought to table with the joints of the bones divided; it is therefore merely necessary to begin at the narrow end, and cut off one chop at a time, with a small portion of the kidney if required, or of the rich kidney fat. neck of mutton. the joints of a neck of mutton are always divided before cooking in the same way as those of the loin, and the carving is simple. it is only necessary to begin at the long bones, where the best meat lies, the scrag, as it is usually called, being coarse and gristly, and frequently taken off before the joint is dressed for the table. lamb. lamb is generally carved in the same way as mutton, but rather more sparingly, as there is less meat on the joint; but when sent to table in the quarter, as it commonly is when young, it must be cut up after its own fashion as follows. fore quarter of lamb. [illustration] this consists of the shoulder, ribs, and brisket. the shoulder must first be raised from the rest by passing the knife under the knuckle in the direction of , , , leaving a good portion of meat adhering to the ribs. a slice of butter, seasoned with pepper and salt, is laid between them, and the juice of a lemon squeezed over the ribs. this must remain a minute, and the shoulder may then be removed to another dish, for the convenience of carving the rest. the ribs and brisket must then be divided in the line , , the ribs separated, and brisket cut into small divisions, giving each person the choice of a rib or piece of the brisket. the shoulder, if required, must be cut in the same way as a shoulder of mutton. beef. sirloin of beef. the principal joint of beef, the sirloin, must be carved outside or inside, according to the taste of the guests. the rich delicate meat under the bone, called the fillet, is carved in parallel slices across the joint and along the grain, contrary to the usual mode of cutting meat. the outer part is carved in long slices cut down to the bone in the direction , , beginning at the edge, the brown being the first slice. many prefer to cut the slices across the joint, beginning in the middle; certainly easier for the carver, but destructive to the future appearance of the joint, nor is the meat so tender thus crossed. a portion of the under fat should be reserved for the upper slices. [illustration] ribs of beef. must be carved like the upper part of the sirloin. there is no fillet in this joint. it is usual to begin the slices at the thin end. round of beef. with a sharp thin-bladed knife shave off in a horizontal manner the first slice, leaving the round flat and smooth. the meat is disfigured if this smoothness is not preserved; it is therefore necessary that your knife be sharp and your hand steady. it must be served in very thin slices. [illustration] the aitch-bone, or edge-bone is usually skewered and boiled with part of the rump, forming a sort of round, to be carved the same way as the round. the soft, marrow kind of fat is at the back of the bone, below , and must be supplied when required; the harder fat is at the edge of the meat, , and will accompany each slice. rump or buttock of beef. in carving the rump, buttock, or other joints of beef, it is merely necessary to observe, that every slice should be as neatly as practicable cut across the grain. even in the brisket, the slices must be across the bones, and not through. [illustration] tongue. the tongue may be sent to table either rolled or in length. if rolled, slices are cut as in a round of beef; if not rolled, it must be cut nearly in the middle, not quite through, and slices taken from each side, with a little of the fat which lies at the root, if liked. [illustration] veal. calf's head. the half-head is often sent to table; but when a whole head is served, it is only necessary to know the delicate parts and to distribute them impartially. long slices of the gelatinous skin, cut down to the bone from to , must be served. the throat sweetbread, as it is called, lies at the thick neck end; and slices, from to , must be added to the gelatine. the eye is also a delicacy: this must be extracted with the point of the knife, and divided at discretion. the palate, situated under the head, must also be apportioned, and, if necessary, the jaw-bone should be removed, to obtain the lean meat below it. loin of veal is usually divided into two portions--the chump end and the kidney end; the latter of which, the most delicate part, must be separated in bones which have been jointed before cooking. part of the kidney, and of the rich fat which surrounds it, must be given to each. the chump end, after the tail is removed and divided, may be served in slices without bone, if preferred to the richer end. [illustration] fillet of veal. the fillet of veal, corresponding to the round of beef, must be carved in the same way, in horizontal slices, with a sharp knife to preserve the smooth surface. the first, or brown slice, is preferred by some persons, and it should be divided as required. for the forcemeat, which is covered with the flap, you must cut deep into it between and , and help to each a thin slice, with a little of the fat. breast of veal. the breast is composed of the ribs and brisket, and these must first be separated by cutting through the line , . the taste of the guests must then be consulted; if the ribs be preferred, the bones are easily divided; if the brisket, which is thick, and contains the gristle, which many like, it must be in small transverse squares. the sweetbread is commonly served with a roast breast of veal, and a small portion of it must be given with every plate. [illustration] knuckle of veal. this part is always boiled or stewed, and the fat and tendons render it a dish much esteemed: some good slices may also be cut, and the marrowy fat which lies between two of the outer bones must be carefully portioned out. shoulder and neck of veal. though the shoulder of veal may be carved in the same way as mutton, it is usual to turn it over, and cut moderately thick slices from the thick edge opposite to the bone, and parallel with it. the _neck_, of which the best end only is usually roasted, and stuffed under the skin, must be divided in the same way as a neck of mutton. * * * * * pork. leg or hand of pork. [illustration] commonly the joints of pork are carved in the same way as the similar joints of mutton, in slices across, cut very deep, as marked , . in the leg, however, the close, firm flesh about the knuckle is more highly esteemed than in the same part of a leg of mutton, and must be dealt out impartially. the _hand_ is a delicate joint, and may be carved from the blade-bone as in mutton, or in thin, slices across, near the knuckle. spare-rib of pork is usually accompanied by apple sauce to correct the richness of the gravy. the fleshy part is first cut in long slices, and the spare bones are then easily divided. ham. [illustration] the usual method of carving the ham is by cutting down directly to the bone three or four thin slices in the direction , ; then by passing the knife along the bone, you completely detach them, and give a due portion of fat to each. if you wish to be more economical, you must begin at the knuckle and gradually work onward, leaving a better appearance than when cut in the middle. a more extravagant method is by scooping a hole in the middle, and cutting circular slices round, on the principle of keeping the meat moist and retaining the gravy. this is obviously a wasteful plan. a sucking pig. before it is sent to table, the head is removed and opened, and the body split in two, thus rendering it very easy to carve. first separate the shoulders, then the legs from the body. the triangular piece of the neck between the shoulders is reckoned the most delicate part, and the ribs the next best. the latter are easily divided according to the number of guests, being commonly little more than gristle; there are choice bits also in the shoulders and thighs; the ear also is reckoned a delicacy. the portion of stuffing and gravy must not be forgotten by the carver. [illustration] * * * * * poultry and game. be careful first to have your proper carving-knife; and next to consider the number of the company. if a small number, it will only be necessary in carving a goose, turkey, or cluck, to cut deep slices from each side of the breast, without winging the birds. in a large party they must absolutely be cut up. goose in carving a goose, the neck must be turned towards you, and the skin below the breast, called the apron, be removed in a semicircular direction, to enable you to reach the stuffing inside. some carvers choose to pour in a glass of port wine, or claret mixed with mustard, before beginning to cut up. the slices first cut are on each side of the breast-bone, marked _a, b_. then, if required, the wing may be removed, by putting the fork into the small end of the pinion, and pressing it close to the body until you divide the shoulder-joint at , carrying the knife on as far as , and then separating by drawing the fork back. the leg must be removed in the same manner in the direction , , and the thigh, which is by many considered the best part, must be separated from the inferior drumstick. the merry-thought may be removed by raising it a little from the neck, and then passing the knife beneath, and the delicate neck-bones are taken off the same way. the rump is looked on by epicures as a dainty. after each plate has been supplied with the part asked for, a spoon must be introduced at the neck to draw out the proper portion of stuffing. [illustration] a green goose is carved much in the same way, but is not stuffed, and only the breast regarded as very delicate. turkey the prime part of the turkey is the breast, and it is only after this is exhausted that the real cutting up of the bird is required. the knife must be passed down close to the bone and through the forcemeat which fills the breast, and then thin slices, with a due portion of the forcemeat, distributed; and except in a very large party, this usually is sufficient; but if more be required, the pinions and legs must be taken off like those of the goose. the thigh is good; the pinion and drumstick are usually tough, and reserved till the last; the side or neck-bones are delicate; also the small round piece of flesh on each side of the centre of the back called _the oyster_. beyond these the turkey requires no more carving. a fowl. the fork must be firmly fixed in the centre of the breast, draw the knife along the line to , and then proceed to take off the wing, by inserting the knife under the joint at , and lifting the pinion with the fork, drawing off the wing with a slice of the breast attached. the leg, cut round, is easily released in the same way. the merry-thought may next be detached by turning it back from the breast; the neck-bones which are beneath the upper part of the wings are easily raised. then the breast must be divided from the back by cutting through the ribs close under the breast. the back may then be turned uppermost, press the point of the knife in the midst, and raise the lower end to separate it. then remove the rump, and cut off the side bones which lie on each side of the back by forcing the knife through the rump-bone and drawing them from the back-bone; these side bones include the delicate morsel called the oyster. the breast and wings are the choice parts; the liver, which is trussed under one wing, should be divided to offer part with the other wing, the gizzard being rarely eaten; but the legs in a young fowl, and especially in a boiled fowl, are very good; the merry-thought too is a delicacy. if the fowl be very large, it is commonly carved like a turkey, with slices first cut from the breast. when a fowl is sent to table cold at luncheon or supper, it is often carved first and then neatly tied together with white ribbons. this looks well, and is very convenient in a large party. [illustration] duck. a duck, if large, must be carved as directed for a goose, by cutting slices from the breast, and afterwards removing the wings and legs; but if a very young bird, it is commonly disjointed first and then served in the same way as a fowl. the seasoned onions and sage placed under the apron may be removed with a spoon if required, but some have an objection to the strong flavour, and it is necessary to know that it is not disagreeable to them before you place it on the plate. wild duck. the choice part of a wild duck is the breast, which is cut in long slices from the neck to the leg. it is rarely the bird is required to be disjointed, but if it be necessary, it can be cut up like a fowl. pheasant. in the same manner in which you carve a fowl fix your fork in the centre of the breast; cut slices from the breast; remove the leg, which is considered excellent, in a line at , and the wing at , . to draw off the merry-thought, pass the knife through the line beneath it towards the neck, and it will easily be detached. in other respects serve it in the same way as a fowl, the breast and thigh being most valued. [illustration] grouse. the first unrivalled bird of game, due on the th of august, breaking up the senate of the kingdom, and accessible only to the few whom wealth or privilege give the _entrée_ into the preserved regions, has, when even thrown into the market by the mercenary scions of the great, a considerable value; and perhaps it is only in the north that it is properly cooked and appreciated. a moor bird requires a particular sagacity in carving, which is a secret to the uninitiated. you may carve it like a common fowl; but the epicure alone knows that it is in the back that the true flavour of the heath is found, and in the north the back is recognized as the chief delicacy, and must be carefully proportioned among the guests. partridge. the partridge is always well received in dinner society; and if the party be large and the supply of game small, the partridges must be jointed like a fowl, to make the most of them, but in a small party it is only necessary to fix the knife in the back, and separate the bird at once into back and breast, dividing it then according to the number of guests, always remembering that the back of a well-fed partridge is by no means a despicable morsel. woodstock or snipe. the great peculiarity in carving the woodcock or snipe is, that the bird is not drawn like other birds, but roasted as it is plucked, suspended by the head, with a toast beneath, on which the _trail_, as it is called, or internal part, is allowed to drop; and when the birds are roasted, which should be rapidly done in twenty minutes, the trail should be spread over each toast and the bird served up on it. it is then only necessary to carve each bird through the breast and back, with its due proportion of the trail and toast. the best part, however, if carved, is the thigh. pigeons. as the pigeon is too small a bird to disjoint, it is the fairest division to cut it through the middle of the breast and back in two equal parts. another mode is to insert the knife at , and cut on each side to and , and forcing them asunder, to divide each portion into two; but this is not needed except in a large party. [illustration] small birds. fieldfares, larks, corn-crakes, quails, plovers, and ruffs and reeves, should be always cut through the breast, and served only for two helps. hare. [illustration] the old way of carving a hare, still insisted on at many economical tables, is somewhat elaborate. you must first insert the knife in the point of the shoulder marked , and divide it down along the line to the rump, ; and doing the same at the opposite side, the hare falls into three pieces. pass the knife under the shoulder, -- , and remove it; then the leg, which is really good, in a similar manner. the animal must be beheaded, for it is necessary to divide the head, which must be done by turning the mouth towards you, holding it steadily down with the fork, inserting the knife through the bone between the ears, and forcing it through, entirely dividing it. half the head is given to any one that requires it, the crisp ears being first cut off, a delicacy some prefer. the back, which is the most tender part, must now be divided through the spine into several pieces; it is only after the back is distributed that it is necessary to have recourse to the shoulders and legs. if the hare be old, it is useless to attempt to carve it entirely at table, the joints become so stubborn with age; and it is then usual to cut long slices on each side of the back-bone. a great deal of the blood usually settles in the shoulders and back of the neck, giving the flesh a richness which epicures like; and these parts, called the sportsman's pieces, are sometimes demanded. the seasoning or stuffing of a hare lies inside, and must be drawn out with a spoon. rabbit. the rules for carving a hare sufficiently direct the mode of carving a rabbit, except that, being so much smaller, the back is never divided into more than two or three pieces, and the head is served whole, if demanded. the wing is thought a choice part by many. toasts and sentiments. * * * * * amatory. british belles and british fashions. laughing lovers to merry maids. love and opportunity. love's slavery. love without licentiousness, and pleasure without excess. love, liberty, and length of blissful days. love without fear, and life without care. love for one. life, love, liberty, and true friendship. love in every breast, liberty in every heart, and learning in every head. love at liberty, and liberty in love. love: may it never make a wise man play the fool. artless love and disinterested friendship. all that love can give, and sensibility enjoy. a speedy union to every lad and lass. beauty's best companion--modesty. beauty, innocence, and modest merit. beauty without affectation, and virtue without deceit. community of goods, unity of hearts, nobility of sentiment, and truth of feeling to the lovers of the fair sex. charms to strike the sight, and merit to win the heart. constancy in love, and sincerity in friendship. here's a health to the maid that is constant and kind, who to charms bright as venus's adds diana's mind. i'll toast britain's daughters--let all fill their glasses-- whose beauty and virtue the whole world surpasses. may blessings attend them, go wherever they will, and foul fall the man that e'er offers them ill. love without deceit, and matrimony without regret. love's garlands: may they ever entwine the brows of every true-hearted lover. lovely woman--man's best and dearest gift of life. love to one, friendship to a few, and good-will to all. long life, pure love, and boundless liberty. may love and reason be friends, and beauty and prudence marry. may the lovers of the fair sex never want the means to defend them. may the sparks of love brighten into a flame. may the joys of the fair give pleasure to the heart. may we be loved by those whom we love. may we kiss whom we please, and please whom we kiss. may the bud of affection be ripened by the sunshine of sincerity. may a virtuous offspring succeed to mutual and honourable love. may the presence of the fair curb the licentious. may the confidence of love be rewarded with constancy in its object. may the honourable lover attain the object of his wishes. may the lovers of the fair be modest, faithful, and kind. may the wings of love never lose a feather. may the blush of conscious innocence ever deck the faces of the british fair. may the union of persons always be founded on that of hearts. may the generous heart ever meet a chaste mate. may the temper of our wives be suited to those of their husbands. may true passion never meet with a slight. may every woman have a protector, but not a tyrant. * * * * * bacchanalian. may we act with reason when the bottle circulates. may good fortune resemble the bottle and bowl, and stand by the man who can't stand by himself. may we never want wine, nor a friend to partake of it. may our love of the glass never make us forget decency. may the juice of the grape enliven each soul, and good humour preside at the head of each bowl. may mirth exalt the feast. may we always get mellow with good wine. may the moments of mirth be regulated by the dial of reason. champagne to our real friends, and real pain to our sham friends. come, every man now give his toast-- fill up the glass--i'll tell you mine: wine is the mistress i love most! this is my toast--now give me thine. cheerfulness in our cups, content in our minds, and competency in our pockets. come, fill the glass and drain the bowl: may love and bacchus still agree; and every briton warm his soul with cupid, wine, and liberty. good-humour: and may it ever smile at our board. full bags, a fresh bottle, and a beauty. good wine and good company to the lovers of reasonable enjoyment. a friend and a bottle to give him. a hearty supper, a good bottle, and a soft bed to every man who fights the battles of his country. a full purse, a fresh bottle, and beautiful face. a full bottle and a friend to partake of it. a drop of good stuff and a snug social party, to spend a dull evening, gay, social, and hearty. a mirth-inspiring bowl. a full belly, a heavy purse, and a light heart. a bottle at night and business in the morning. beauty, wit, and wine. clean glasses and old corks. wine: may it be our spur as we ride over the bad roads of life while we enjoy ourselves over the bottle, may we never drive prudence out of the room. wine--for there's no medicine like it. wine--the parent of friendship, composer of strife, the soother of sorrow, the blessing of life. wine: the bond that cements the warm heart to a friend. * * * * * comic. may the tax-gatherer be forgiven in another world. to the early bird that catches the worm. to the bird in the hand that is worth two in the bush. our native, land: may we never be lawfully sent out of it. sound hearts, sound sovereigns, and sound dispositions. the queen, and may true britons never be without her likeness in their pockets. the land we live in: may he who doesn't like it leave it. the three great generals in power--general peace, general plenty, and general satisfaction. the bank of england's passport to travel with, and the queen's picture for a companion. may the parched pea never jump out of the frying-pan into the fire. the three r's: reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic. may evil communications never corrupt good manners. may the celebrated pin a day, of which we have heard so much, always make the groat a year. may the groat a year never be unwisely invested in a joint-stock company. may that man never grow fat who carries two faces under one hat. here's to the best physicians--dr. diet, dr. quiet, and dr. merryman. here's to the feast that has plenty of meat and very little table-cloth. here's to the full purse that never lacks friends. may fools make feasts, and wise men eat them. here's to the man who never lets his tongue cut his own throat. here's to the man who never quarrels with his bread and butter. here's to the man who never looks a gift-horse in the mouth. here's to the old bird that is not to be caught with chaff. * * * * * conservative. a health to those ladies who set the example of wearing british productions. may her majesty's ministers ever have wisdom to plan our institutions, and energy and firmness to support them. confusion to all demagogues. may the productions of britain's isle never be invaded by foreigners. may the throne and the altar never want standing armies to back them. our old nobility. the man who builds up rather than he who pulls down. the loyal adherents of the queen and the true friends of the people. the equilibrium of state, may it always be preserved. the ancient ways. judicious reforms and reformers. the universal advancement of the arts and sciences. all our independent nobles and noble hearts. may the dispensers of justice ever be impartial. may french principles never corrupt english manners. may the interests of the monarch and monarchy never be thought distinct. may the worth of the nation be ever inestimable. may taxation be lessened annually. may the gallic cock be always clipped by british valour if he crows too loud. may the sword of justice be swayed by the hand of mercy. may the seeds of dissension never find growth in the soil of great britain. may the love of country be imprinted in every briton's breast. may our statesmen ever possess the justice of a more and the wisdom of a bacon. queen and country. liberty, not licence. confusion to all men who desert their party. party ties before all other ties. the queen: may she outlive her ministers, and may they live long. a lasting cement to all contending powers. the protectors of commerce and the promoters of charity. a revision of the code of criminal laws. the bar, the pulpit, and the throne. * * * * * gastronomic. old england's roast beef: may it ever be the standing dish of britons. our constitutional friends--the baron and the sir-loin. roast beef: may it always ennoble our veins and enrich our blood. the roast beef of old england. the union dish: english beef, scotch kale, and irish potatoes. * * * * * english. england, home, and beauty. english oak and british valour. england for ever: the land we live in. england, scotland, and ireland: may their union remain undisturbed by plots or treachery to the end of time. england, the queen of the isles and the queen of the main. may old england's sons, the americans, never forget their mother. * * * * * irish. a high _post_ to the enemies of ould ireland, erin, the land of the brave and the bold. ireland; sympathy for her wrongs, and a determination to redress them. the country that gave st. patrick birth, the birthplace of wit, and hospitality's home--dear ould ireland. may great britain and ireland be ever equally distinguished by their love of liberty and true patriotism. may the enemies of great britain and ireland never meet a friend in either country. justice to ireland. ireland, scotland, and england: may their union be happier than it has been. * * * * * scotch. a health to the friends of caledonia. caledonia, the nursery of learning and the birthplace of heroes. scotland and the productions of its soil. scottish heroes, and may their fame live for ever. scotland, the birthplace of valour, the country of worth. the queen and the scottish union. the nobles of caledonia and their ladies. to the memory of scottish heroines. the rose, thistle, and shamrock: may they flourish by the common graft of union. to the memory of scotland's heroes. to the memory of those who have gloriously fallen in the noble struggle for independence. * * * * * liberal. annihilation to the trade of corruption. an englishman's birthright: trial by jury. addition to our trade, multiplication to our manufactures, subtraction to taxes, and reduction to places and pensions. all the honest reformers of our country. britain: may the land of our nativity ever be the abode of freedom, and the birthplace of heroes. britain's annals: may they never suffer a moral or political blot. confusion to those who barter the cause of their country for sordid gain. confusion to those who, wearing the mask of patriotism, pull it off and desert the cause of liberty in the hour of trial. confusion to those despots who combine against the liberties of mankind. disappointment to all those who form expectations of places and pensions on the ruin of their country. everlasting life to the man who gave the death-blow to the slave trade. community, unity, navigation, and trade. faith in every kind of commerce. freedom to the oppressed, and slavery to the oppressors. freedom to all who dare contend for it. oblivion to all party rage. humanity to all created beings, especially to our own species, whether black or white. no party except mankind. may the meanest briton scorn the highest slave. old england: and may those who ill-use her be speedily kicked off. may great britain and ireland be ever equally distinguished by their love of liberty and true patriotism. may every succeeding century maintain the principles of the glorious revolution, enjoy the blessings of them, and transmit them to future ages unimpaired and improved. may the whole universe be incorporated in one city, and every inhabitant presented with the freedom. may britons share the triumphs of freedom, and ever contend for the rights and liberties of mankind. may freedom's fire take new birth at the grave of liberty. may our country be, as it has ever been, a secure asylum to the unfortunate and oppressed. high wages, and sense to keep them. may the freedom of election be preserved, the trial by jury maintained, and the liberty of the press secured to the latest posterity. may the tree of liberty flourish round the globe, and every human being partake of the fruits. may truth and liberty prevail throughout the world. may all partial and impolitic taxes be abolished. may britons never have a tyrant to oppose either in church or state. may the sons of liberty marry the daughters of virtue. may britons never suffer invasion, nor invade the rights of others. may the miseries of war be banished from all enlightened nations. may our trade and manufactures be unrestrained by the fetters of monopoly. may the whole world become more enlightened and civilized. may revolutions never cease while tyranny exists. our constitution as settled at the revolution. may the people of england always oppose a bad ministry, and give vigour to a good one. the british lion: may he never rise in anger nor lie down in fear. the majesty of the people of england. the memory of our brave ancestors who brought about the revolution, and may a similar spirit actuate their descendants. the sacred decree of heaven--let all mankind be free. the british constitution; and confusion to those who dislike it. the people--the only source of legitimate power. the subject of liberty and the liberty of the subject. the non-electors of great britain: may they speedily be enfranchised. the greatest happiness of the greatest number. may the nation that plots against another's liberty or prosperity fall a victim to its own intrigues. * * * * * literary. toleration and liberty of the press. the fourth estate. the liberty of the press, and success to its defenders. the press: the great bulwark of our liberties, and may it ever remain unshackled. the glorious literature of scotland. the glorious literature of ireland. the glorious literature of england. * * * * * loyal. queen victoria: and may her royal offspring adorn the position they are destined to fill. all the royal family. a speedy export to all the enemies of britain without a drawback. a lasting peace or an honourable war. a health to our english patriots. agriculture and its improvers. all the societies associated for promoting the happiness of the human race. all the charitable institutions of great britain. an englishman's castle--his house: may it stand for ever. britons in unity, and unity in britain. british virtue: may it always find a protector, but never need one. great britain's rising star: the prince of wales. holy pastors, honest magistrates, and humane rulers. improvement to the inventions of our country. improvement to our arts, and invention to our artists. may the sword of justice be swayed by the hand of mercy. may the love of country always prevail. may st. george's channel be the only difference ever known between england and ireland. may the eagles of the continent never build their nests in this little island. may british valour shine when every other light is out. may britons, when they do strike, strike home. may the populace of our country be remarkable for their loyalty and domestic happiness. may our sons be honest and fair, and our daughters modest and fair. may every briton's hand be ever hostile to tyranny. may the annals of great britain's history be unstained with crime and unpolluted with bloody deeds. may our jurors ever possess sufficient courage to uphold their verdict. may every briton manfully withstand corruption. may we never be afraid to die for our country. our wives, homes, country, and queen. may the health of our sovereign keep pace with the wishes of her people. may every briton manfully withstand tyranny. may the glory of britain never cease to shine. may the honours of our nobility be without stain. may britons be invincible by united force. may the olive of peace renovate the sinking fund of the british nation. may the throne and the altar never want standing armies to back them. may britons secure their conquests by clemency. may we as citizens be free without faction, and as subjects loyal without servility. may loyalty flourish for ever. may liberty ever find an altar in britain surrounded by devoted worshippers. may the british bull never be cowed. may our hearts ever be possessed with the love of country. may the british soil alone produce freedom's sons. may the brave never want protection. may sovereigns and subjects reign in each other's hearts by love. may we ever honestly uphold our rights. may we never cease to deserve well of country. may britons ever defend, with bold unflinching hand, their throne, their altar, and their native land. may the liberties of the people be immortal. may the heart of an englishman ever be liberty hall. may the brow of the brave be adorned by the hand of beauty. may we never find danger lurking on the borders of security. may the laurels of great britain never be blighted. may all mankind make free to enjoy the blessings of liberty, but never take the liberty to subvert the principles of freedom. may britannia's hand ever be armed with the bolts of jove. may the _ensign_ of loyalty float over us--the _jack_ of pure patriotism lead us--and may the _pendant_ of every british man-of-war serve as a cat-o-nine-tails to whip our enemies with. may england's name and england's fame stand for ever pure, great and free. may every true briton be possessed of peace, plenty, and content. may every briton leave his native land at honour's call, to fight, to conquer, or, like wolfe, to fall. may every briton act the patriot's part. may victory spin the robe of glory for the brave, and fame enrol his deeds. may the laws never be misconstrued. may the weight of our taxes never bend the back of our credit. may increasing success crown the island of traders, and its shores prove the grave of all foreign invaders. * * * * * masonic. may every worthy brother who is willing to work and labour through the day, be happy at night with his friend, his love, and a cheerful glass. may all freemasons be enabled to act in a strict conformity to the rules of their order. may our actions as masons be properly squared. may masonry flourish until nature expire, and its glories ne'er fade till the world is on fire. the female friends of freemasons. may the brethren of our glorious craft be ever distinguished in the world by their regular lives; more than by their gloves and aprons. may concord, peace; and harmony subsist in all regular lodges, and always distinguish freemasons. may masonry prove as universal as it is honourable and useful. may every brother learn to live within the compass, and watch upon the square. may the lodges in this place be distinguished for love, peace, and harmony. all noblemen and right worshipful brothers who have been grand masters. may peace, harmony, and concord subsist among freemasons, and may every idle dispute and frivolous distinction be buried in oblivion. all regular lodges. all the friends of the craft. as we meet upon the level, may we part upon the square. all faithful and true brothers. all brothers who have been grand masters. every brother who keeps the key of knowledge from intruders, but cheerfully gives it to a worthy brother. every brother who maintains a consistency in love and sincerity in friendship. every worthy brother who was at first duly prepared, and whose heart still retains an awful regard to the three great lights of masonry. golden eggs to every brother, and goldfinches to our lodges. honour and influence to every public-spirited brother. all freeborn sons of the ancient and honourable craft. may the square, plumb-line, and level regulate the conduct of every brother. may the morning have no occasion to censure the night spent by freemasons. may the hearts of freemasons agree, although their heads should differ. may every mason participate in the happiness of a brother. may every brother have a heart to feel and a hand to give. may discord, party rage, and insolence be for ever rooted out from among masons. may covetous cares be unknown to freemasons. may all freemasons go hand in hand in the road of virtue. may we be more ready to correct our own faults than to publish the errors of a brother. may the prospect of riches never induce a mason to do that which is repugnant to virtue. may unity and love be ever stamped upon the mason's mind. may no freemason desire plenty but with the benevolent view to relieve the indigent. may no freemason wish for more liberty than constitutes happiness, nor more freedom than tends to the public good. may the deformity of vice in other men teach a mason to abhor it in himself. may the cares which haunt the heart of the covetous be unknown to the freemason. prosperity to masons and masonry relief to all indigent brethren. to the secret and silent. the great lodge of england. the great lodge of scotland. to the memory of him who first planted the vine. to the perpetual honour of freemasons. the masters and wardens of all regular lodges. to all masons who walk by the line. to the memory of the tyrian artist. may all freemasons live in love and die in peace. may love animate the heart of every mason. may all freemasons ever taste and relish the sweets of freedom. * * * * * military. may our commanders have the eye of a hawke and the heart of a wolfe. to the memory of wellington and all like him. chelsea hospital and its supporters. to the memory of sir thomas picton, and all our brave countrymen who fell at waterloo. may every british officer possess wolfe's conduct and courage, but not meet with his fate. may the enemy's flag be surmounted by the british standard. may the arms borne by a soldier never be used in a bad cause. may british soldiers fight to protect, and conquer to save. may the gifts of fortune never cause us to steer out of our latitude. may the brow of the brave never want a wreath of laurel to adorn it. may the army of great britain never feel dismayed at its enemies. may the brave soldier who never turned his back to the enemy never have a friend turn his back to him. may bronze and medals not be the only reward of the brave. may no rotten members infect the whole corps. may the laurels of great britain never be blighted. may all weapons of war be used for warlike purposes only. may the soldier never fall a sacrifice but to glory. to the memory of sir john moore, and all the brave fellows who fell with him in the action of corunna; and may their gallant conduct stimulate every british soldier in the hour of danger. to the memory of all brave soldiers who fall in defence of their country. the memory of a great general and splendid genius, though ambitious and tyrannic--napoleon bonaparte. * * * * * naval. may our iron-clads do as much as out-brave old oaks. may john bull ever be commander-in-chief of the ocean. may old england, a world within herself, reign safe for ever in her floating towers. to the memory of nelson, and all like him. greenwich hospital and its supporters. may every british seaman fight bravely and be rewarded honourably. may rudders govern and ships obey. may no true son of neptune ever flinch from his gun. may no son of the ocean ever be devoured by his mother. may our navy never know defeat but by name. may our sailors for ever prove lords of the main. may the deeds never be forgot that were done at trafalgar and waterloo. may the cause of british liberty ever be defended by her hearts of oak. may our officers and tars be valiant and brave. success to the fair for manning the navy. may gales of prosperity waft us to the port of happiness. may our seamen, from the captain to the cabin-boy, be like our ships, hearts of oak. more hard ships for britain, and less to her enemies. may the pilot of reason guide us to the harbour of rest. may the memory of the noble nelson inspire every seaman to do his duty. may the tar who loses one eye in defence of his country, never see distress with the other. should the french come to dover, may they mis-deal in their landing. to nelson's memory here's a health, and to his gallant tars, and, may our british seamen bold despise both wounds and scars; make france and spain, and all the main, and all their foes to know, britons reign o'er the main while the stormy winds do blow. the british navy, the world's check-string. the heart of a sailor: may it be like heart of oak. though our bold tars are fortune's sport, may they ever be fortune's care. the flag of england: may it ever brave the battle and the breeze. the sea, the rough sea, the open sea: may our lives be spent upon it. the sea, the sleepless guardian of the world. the memory of lord howe and the glorious st of june. safe arrivals to our homeward and outward-bound fleets. * * * * * religious. the friends of religion, liberty, and science in every part of the globe. the honest reformers of our laws and religion. the clergy of the united kingdom who have always supported the good cause: may they continue to do so. the pulpit, the bar, and the throne. the friends of religious toleration, whether they are within or without the establishment. * * * * * sentimental. may we ever have a sufficiency for ourselves, and a trifle to spare for our friends. may we always look forward to better times, but never be discontented with the present. may the miseries of war never more have existence in the world. may the wing of friendship never moult a feather. may our artists never be forced into artifice to gain applause and fortune. may solid honour soon take place of seeming religion. may our thoughts never mislead our judgment. may filial piety ever be the result of a religious education. may real merit meet reward, and pretension its punishment. may prosperity never make us arrogant, nor adversity mean. may we live happy and die in peace with all mankind. may the unsuspecting man never be deceived. may noise and nonsense be ever banished from social company. may the faults of our neighbours be dim and their virtues glaring. may industry always be the favourite of fortune. may the rich be charitable and the poor grateful. may the misfortunes of others be always examined at the chart of our own conduct. may we never be so base as to envy the happiness of another. may we live to learn, and learn to live well. may we be more ready to correct our own faults than to publish the faults of others. may we never hurt our neighbour's peace by the desire of appearing witty. modesty in our discourses, moderation in our wishes, and mutuality in our affections. may we never envy those who are happy, but strive to imitate them. may we derive amusement from business and improvement from pleasure. may our faults be written on the sea-shore, and every good action prove a wave to wash them out. may virtue find fortune always an attendant. may we never repine at our condition, nor be depressed by poverty. may reality strengthen the joys of imagination. may we never make a sword of our tongue to wound a good man's reputation. may our distinguishing mark be merit rather than money. a total abolition of the slave trade. a heart to glow for others' good. a heart to feel and a heart to give. a period to the sorrows of an ingenuous mind. a health to our sweethearts, our friends, and our wives: may fortune smile on them the rest of their lives. may genius and merit never want a friend. adam's ale: and may so pure an element be always at hand. all that gives us pleasure. all our wants and wishes. all our absent friends on land and sea. an honest guide and a good pilot. as we bind so may we find. as we travel through life may we live well on the road. may truth and liberty prevail throughout the world. may we never engage in a bad cause, and never fly from a good one. may domestic slavery be abolished throughout the world. may the fruits of england's soil never be denied to her children. * * * * * sporting. may the lovers of the chase never want the comforts of life. may every fox-hunter be well mounted. may we always enjoy the pleasures of shootings and succeed with foul and fair. the staunch hound that never spends tongue but where he ought. the gallant huntsman that plunges into the deep in pursuit of his game. the clear-sighted sportsman that sees his game with one eye. the steady sportsman that always brings down his game. the beagle that runs by nose and not by sight. the jolly sportsman that never beats about the bush. the huntsman's pleasures--the field in the morning and the bottle at night. the joys of angling. the jolly sportsman who enters the covert without being bit by the fox. may the pleasures of sportsmen never know an end. may the jolly fox-hunter never want freedom of soul nor liberality of heart. may we always gain fresh vigour from the joys of the chase. may the sportsman's day be spent in pleasure. may strength the sportsman's nerves in vigour brace; may cruelty ne'er stain with foul disgrace the well-earned pleasures of the chase. may the love of the chase never interrupt our attention of the welfare of the country. may every sport prove as innocent as that of the field. may the bows of all british bowmen be strong, their strings sound, and may their arrows fly straight to the mark. may we always run the game breast high. may those who love the crack of the whip never want a brush to pursue. may the heart of a sportsman never know affliction but by name. * * * * * miscellaneous. the three a's: abundance, abstinence, and annihilation. abundance to the poor. abstinence to the intemperate. annihilation to the wicked. the three b's: bachelors, banns, and buns. bachelors, for the maidens. banns for the bachelors. buns after the consummation of the banns. the three c's: cheerfulness, content, and competency. cheerfulness in our cups. content in our minds. competency in our pockets. the three f's: firmness, freedom, and fortitude. firmness in the senate. freedom on the land. fortitude on the waves. the three f's: friendship, feeling, and fidelity. friendship without interest. feeling to our enemies. fidelity to our friends. the three f's: fat, fair, and forty. the three generals in peace: general peace. general plenty. general satisfaction. the three generals in power: general employment. general industry. general comfort. the three h's: health, honour, and happiness. health to all the world. honour to those who seek for it. happiness in our homes. the three l's: love, life, and liberty. love pure. life long. liberty boundless. the three m's: mirth, music, and moderation. mirth at every board. music in all instruments. moderation in our desires. the three golden balls of civilization: industry, commerce, and wealth. the three companions of beauty: modesty, love, and constancy. the three blessings of this life: health, wealth, and a good conscience. the four comforts of this life: love, liberty, health, and a contented mind. the three spirits that have no souls: brandy, rum, and gin. the three l's; love, loyalty, and length of days. the three m's; modesty, moderation, and mutuality. modesty in our discourse. moderation in our wishes. mutuality in our affection. the musician's toast.--may a crotchet in the head never bar the utterance of good notes. may the lovers of harmony never be in want of a note, and its enemies die in a common chord. the surgeon's toast.--the man that bleeds for his country. the waiter's toast.--the clever waiter who puts the cork in first and the liquor afterwards. the glazier's toast.--the praiseworthy glazier who takes _panes_ to see his way through life. the greengrocer's toast.--may we spring up like vegetables, have turnip noses, radish cheeks, and carroty hair; and may our hearts never be hard like those of cabbages, nor may we be rotten at the core. the painter's toast.--when we work in the wet may we never want for driers. the tallow chandler's toast.--may we make light of our misfortunes, melt the fair when we press them, and make our foes wax warm in our favour. the hatter's toast.--when the rogue _naps_ it, may the lesson be _felt_. the tailor's toast.--may we always _sheer_ out of a lawsuit, and by so doing _cut_ bad company. the baker's toast.--may we never be done so much as to make us crusty. the lawyer's toast.--may the depth of our potations never cause us to let judgment go by default. * * * * * latin. _ad finem esto fidelis_. be faithful to the end. _amor patriae_. the love of our country. _dilige amicos_. love your friends. _dum vivimus vivamus_. let us live while we live. _esto perpetua_. be thou perpetual. _palmam qid meruit ferate_. let him who has won bear the palm. _pro aris et focis_. for our altars and fireside. _vox populi vox dei_. the voice of the people is the voice of god. the end. the book of good manners a guide to polite usage for all social functions w. c. green the book of good manners is a complete and authentic authority on every single phase of social usage as practiced in america. the author has compiled the matter in dictionary form in order to give the reader the desired information as briefly and clearly as possible, and with the least possible effort in searching through the pages. accepting or declining invitations. see invitations, accepting or declining. accidents. see street etiquette--men--accidents. address. the address of a person may be stamped on the stationery. if the address is stamped, it is not customary to stamp also the crest or monogram. addressing envelopes. men. a man should be addressed as mr. james j, wilson, or james j. wilson, esq. either the mr. or the esq. may be used, but not the two together. the title belonging to a man should be given. it is not customary to use mr. or esq. when jr. or sr. is used. women. a woman's name should always have the miss or mrs. a woman should never be given her husband's official title, as mrs. judge wilson. if a woman has a title of her own, she should be addressed as dr. minnie wilson, when the letter is a professional one. if a social letter, this should be miss minnie wilson, or mrs. minnie wilson. addressing persons. young girls should be spoken of as minnie wilson, and not as miss minnie, but are personally addressed as miss minnie. only the greatest intimacy warrants a man in addressing a young girl as minnie. parents should introduce their daughter as my daughter minnie, but should speak of them before servants as miss minnie. a married woman should be spoken of as mrs. agnes wilson, and personally addressed as mrs. wilson. addressing and signing letters. all answers to invitations should be addressed to the party issuing them. letters to a woman who is a comparative stranger may begin my dear mrs. wilson, and to a closer acquaintance dear mrs. wilson. letters to a man who is a comparative stranger may begin my dear mr. wilson, and to a closer acquaintance dear mr. wilson. for forms of addressing persons with titles, as mayor, see under that title--as, mayor, governor. the letters may end, sincerely yours, or very truly yours, or i remain yours with kindest regards. the signature of a man should be john j. wilson or j. jones wilson. an unmarried woman should sign social letters as minnie wilson, and a business letter as miss minnie wilson. a married woman should sign a social letter as agnes wilson. in signing a business letter, a married woman may either sign her name mrs. agnes wilson, or, preferably, agnes wilson (mrs. john wilson) afternoon calls. these should be made between three and half-past five, and if possible on regular at home days. in making an afternoon call a man should wear the regulation afternoon dress. dress--men. afternoon dress consists of a double-breasted frock coat of dark material, and waistcoat, either single or double- breasted, of same, or of some fancy material of late design. the trousers should be of light color, avoiding of course extremes in patterns. white or delicate color linen shirts should be worn, patent leather shoes, silk hat and undressed kid gloves of dark color. afternoon dress is worn at weddings, afternoon teas, receptions, garden parties, luncheons, church funerals, and at all afternoon functions. see also evening dress--men. morning dress--men. afternoon receptions. see afternoon teas. given by bachelors, see bachelors' teas. afternoon teas (formal). these are very successful as a rule, due perhaps to their small expense and few exactions, and are given with many purposes: to introduce young women into society, to allow a hostess to entertain a number of her friends, to honor some woman of note, etc. a formal afternoon tea is one for which cards have been issued, naming set date. awnings and carpet should be provided from curb to house. a man should be stationed at the curb to open carriage doors and call them when the guests leave, and another african teas man should be in attendance at the front door to open it the moment a guest appears at the top step and to direct him to the dressing-room. a policeman should be detailed for the occasion to keep back the onlookers, and should receive a small fee for his services. at the door of the drawing-room a man should ask the name of each guest, which he announces as the latter enters. the hostess and those receiving with her should be just within the door to receive the guests. cards. each guest should leave a card in the tray in the hall. a woman may leave the cards of the men of her family who have been unable to attend. cards should be sent by mail or messenger by those invited but unable to be present, and should be timed so that they reach the house during the function. a husband and wife each send a card when the invitation is issued in the name of the hostess only, and two cards each when issued in the name of hostess and her daughter. if issued in the name of both husband and wife, a husband should send two and his wife should send one card. daughters. the daughters who have passed the debutante age usually stand for an hour beside their mother to receive the guests, and afterward mingle with the guests to help to make the function a success. debutante. when a tea is given in honor of a debutante, she stands beside the hostess (usually her mother), and each guest is introduced to her. flowers should be liberally provided, and friends may contribute on such an occasion. the host and the men all wear the regulation afternoon dress. women wear costumes appropriate to the afternoon, more elegant in proportion to the elaborateness of the function. guests may suit their convenience in arriving, provided they do not come at the opening hour nor at the very end. after leaving their wraps in the dressing- rooms, guests enter the drawing-room, leaving their cards in the tray in the hall, and then giving their names to the man at the door, who announces them. on entering the room, the women precede the men. after greeting the hostess and being introduced to those receiving with her, the guests move into the middle of the room. guests go the dining-room when they wish without greeting the hostess. it is not expected that guests at a large reception will stay all the afternoon. twenty minutes is long enough. it is not necessary to bid the hostess good-bye when leaving. if guests take leave of host and hostess, they should shake hands. in the dining-room the men, assisted by the waiters, help the women. when the reception is a small formal one, the guests may stay a longer time, and usually it is better to take leave of the hostess, unless she is much occupied at the time. host. except when a newly married couple give a house-warming or a reception, the host does not stand beside his wife, but spends the time in making introductions, and doing his best to make the function a success. when some married woman or woman guest of honor assists his wife to receive, he should at the proper moment escort her to the dining-room. hostess. the hostess and those receiving with her should be just within the door, ready to receive each guest as announced. the hostess shakes hands with each guest, and introduces them to those receiving with her. friends assisting a hostess to entertain are generally permitted to invite a few of their own friends, and their cards are sent with those of the hostess. a pretty feature is the presence of a number of young women here and there in the rooms to assist in receiving the guests. music is always appropriate. hours. the hours are from to p.m. introductions. the hostess should introduce her guests to those receiving with her. see also introduction. invitations. engraved invitations are sent a week or ten days in advance, by mail or messenger. they are usually issued in the name of the hostess only, though they may be issued in the name of both husband and wife. in place of the visiting-card, an "at home" card may be used, or cards specially engraved for the purpose. when cards are sent to a married couple, the cards are addressed to both husband and wife. invitations are sent in two envelopes-the inner one unsealed and bearing the name of the guest, and the outer one sealed, with, the street address. invitations, answering. it is not necessary to accept or decline these invitations, as the guest accepts by his presence. if unable to do so, he should send by mail or messenger a visiting-card, to reach the hostess during the ceremony. when the invitation has been issued in the name of the hostess only, a husband and wife each send a card, and if in the name of hostess and her daughter, each should send two cards. if the invitation has been issued in the name of the husband and wife, the wife should send one and a husband two cards. if the woman in the family is the only one present at the function, she can leave cards for the rest of the family. men. both the host and men wear the regulation afternoon dress, consisting of the long frock coat with single or double-breasted waistcoat to match, or of some fancy cloth, and gray trousers. white linen, a light tie, a silk hat, gray gloves, and patent leather shoes complete the costume. the overcoat, hat, and cane are left in the dressing-room, and the guest removes one or both gloves as he pleases--remembering that he must offer his ungloved right hand to the hostess. shaking hands. guests on being presented to the hostess should shake hands. if guest takes leave of hostess, they should shake hands. if the hostess is surrounded by guests, a pleasant nod of farewell is admissible. women. women leave cards of their male relatives as well as their own, even though their names may be announced upon entering. guests leave their cards in a receptacle provided for the purpose, or give them to the servant at the door. women wear a costume appropriate for the afternoon, and keep their hats and gloves on. afternoon teas (informal). an afternoon tea is a simple entertainment. refreshments are generally served to the guests. an innovation lately introduced has become quite popular --namely, young women, invited for the purpose, wait upon the guests, bringing in one dainty at a time. an afternoon tea is called a formal afternoon tea when engraved cards have been issued, naming set date. cards. guests should leave cards in the hall, or hand them to the servant. women may leave the cards of the men of her family. those unable to attend should send card the same afternoon by mail or messenger. see also afternoon teas (formal)-cards. dress. both men and women wear afternoon dress. guests. all guests, both men and women, wear afternoon dress. guests may suit their convenience in arriving or departing--provided they do not come at the opening hour, nor stay to the last moment. after the guests have left their wraps in the dressing-rooms, they leave their cards in the tray in the hall and enter the drawing- room, the women preceding the men. after greeting the hostess and being introduced to those assisting her, the guests quietly move away and mingle with the rest. each guest goes to the dining-room when he pleases and leaves when he wishes. it is not necessary upon departure to shake hands with the hostess at a large reception, though it is better to do so at a small affair. it is not necessary for a guest to stay the entire evening; twenty minutes is sufficient. host. if present, he does not receive with his wife. it is not essential that he be present on such an occasion. hostess. the hostess wears full dress. daughters may assist, or young women may be asked to do so. hours. from four to seven. invitations. for an afternoon tea a visiting- card may be used with the hour and date written or engraved on it. they may be sent by mail or messenger. the invitation need not be acknowledged. afternoon wedding receptions are conducted the same as wedding receptions, which see. agriculture, secretary of--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mr. wilson, and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: hon. john j. wilson, secretary of agriculture. aisle procession. see wedding procession. anglican church archbishop. see archbishop. anglican church bishop. see bishop. anniversaries--wedding. these are as follows: first year...................paper fifth year.................wooden tenth year ..................tin twelfth year.............leather fifteenth year ..........crystal twentieth year.............china twenty-fifth year.........silver thirtieth year ............ivory fortieth year.............woolen forty-fifth year............silk fiftieth year............ golden seventy-fifth year...... diamond less attention is now paid than formerly to all those before the silver wedding. for specific information, see silver wedding, tin wedding, etc. announcement--engagement. see engagement public announcement. announcing guests--balls. the hostess decides whether or not the guests are to be announced. at public balls it is customary. answering invitations. see under functions, as dinners, invitations, etc. apples should be pared, cut into small pieces, and eaten with finders or forks. archbishop of anglican church--how addressed. an official letter begins: my lord archbishop, may it please your grace, and ends: i remain, my lord archbishop, your grace's most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear lord archbishop, and ends: i have the honor to remain, my dear lord archbishop. the address on the envelop is: the most reverend, his grace the archbishop of kent. archbishop of roman catholic church--how addressed. an official or social letter begins: most reverend and dear sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain your humble servant. the address on the envelope is: the most reverend john j. wilson, archbishop of kent. artichokes are eaten with the fingers, taking off leaf by leaf and dipping into the sauce. the solid portion is broken up and eaten with a fork. asparagus. the stalks may be taken between the finger and the thumb, if they are not too long, or the green end may be cut off and eaten with a fork, scraping off with the knife what is desired from the remaining part. at homes. afternoon at homes. the days for receiving are engraved in the lower left hand corner of the card, with hours specified if one wishes. no changes should be made in these hours by the hostess unless for exceptional reasons, and she should always be present at the time set. unless very intimate, the call should be made only on the specified days. bachelors. it is not customary for a bachelor to use "at home" cards as a woman does, nor to invite his friends by writing a date and music at four on his calling-cards in place of an invitation. dress. in the afternoon the caller should wear afternoon dress, and in the evening evening dress. acknowledging invitations. invitations to an ordinary at home need no acknowledgment. invitations. cards for an "at home" are engraved with the hour for beginning the entertainment--as, chocolate at . o'clock. the invitations to a formal "at home" should be sent in two envelopes, but to an ordinary "at home" in one envelope. for informal affairs the hour may be written on an ordinary "at home" card. bachelors' dinners. they follow the usual custom of formal dinners, and may be as elaborate as desired. women may be invited. such dinners are often given for men only. calls. women do not call upon a bachelor after attending a dinner given by him. chaperone. if women are present, a married woman as chaperone is indispensable, and her husband must also be invited. the host should call upon the chaperone and personally request the favor. the chaperone is taken into dinner by the host, unless the latter takes in the woman in whose honor the dinner may be given. in the latter case, the chaperone is seated at the host's left. she gives the signal for the women to leave the dining-room. all guests should be introduced to the chaperone, and she should be called upon after a short time by the host. dress. all guests wear evening dress. host. the host should call upon the chaperone within a few days after the dinner. if men only are present, he either precedes or follows the guests into the dining-room, and if he has given the dinner in honor of some man, he has the latter seated at his right. his duties are the same as the host at dinners. invitations. these are usually given in brief notes, but may be engraved, and are similar to the regular invitations to dinners, and are treated accordingly. men. the men wear evening dress, and follow the same etiquette as at other dinners. women. the women wear evening dress, and follow the same etiquette as at all dinners, except that no calls are made by them afterward upon the host. bachelor's farewell dinner. if the groom wishes, he may give a farewell dinner a few evenings before the wedding to his best man, ushers, and a few intimate friends. he sits at the head of the table and the best man opposite, and on this occasion he may give scarf-pins, link cuff-buttons--or neckties and gloves, if he wishes--to the best man and ushers. bachelors' luncheons. these are conducted like bachelor's dinners, which see. the one difference is that, should the luncheon be given before p.m., afternoon dress should be worn. bachelors' opera parties. see theatre and opera parties given by men. bachelors' suppers. these are conducted the same as bachelor's dinners, which see. bachelors' teas or afternoon receptions. chaperones. if women are present, a married chaperone is indispensable, who should be the first person invited by personal call. the chaperone at a small affair pours the tea, and at a large one she receives with the host, and each guest is presented to her. the host conducts the chaperone to her carriage, and also any other women who may have assisted her. dress. the hosts and guests wear afternoon dress. invitations. these maybe oral, brief notes, or, for a large affair, engraved, and should be sent from three days to a week in advance. host. the host should greet his guests at the door, shaking hands with each one, and introducing to the chaperone those not known to her. he introduces guests who are strangers to each other, bids them adieu, accompanies the women to the door, and escorts the chaperone to her carriage, and if she has come alone without one, may very properly escort her home. if at a large reception several women have helped him entertain, he should thank them and see them to their carriages. he will, of course, see that there is provided a dressing-room for women with a maid to wait upon them, and that the rooms are in good order, well furnished with flowers, and that the refreshments are attended to. see also invitations. men. afternoon dress is worn. women. the invitations, engraved or oral, should be promptly acknowledged. women wear dress customary at afternoon teas, and on their entrance should greet the host. upon departing they take leave of him, though this is not necessary if the reception be a large one. if a young woman knows that a chaperone is present, she need not have her own chaperone accompany her. if the chaperone leaves early, she should do likewise. bachelors' theatre party. see theatre and opera parties given by men. badges--balls (public). it is customary for men and women on the committees to wear on the left side of the breast ornamental badges, embroidered with the official position of the wearer. baggage. if a man is traveling with a woman, he should see to the checking and care of her baggage. see also traveling. wedding trip. the best man should, some time before the wedding, see that the baggage of the bridal couple has been checked, and the checks given to the groom. see also best man. balls. a ball is an evening function, beginning at a late hour, devoted wholly to dancing. the costumes are more elaborate, the supper arrangements more extensive, and the floral decorations more lavish than at a dance. accepting invitation to dance. while a young woman may accept or decline any invitation to dance, it is considered an act of discourtesy to refuse one man for a dance and to accept an invitation thereafter for the same dance from another. announcing guests. the hostess decides whether or not the guests are to be announced. at public balls it is customary. answering invitations. these should be answered immediately, and if declined, the ticket should be returned. arriving at. there is no set rule when guests should arrive. in the city, guests should arrive anywhere between eleven and twelve, and in the country, fifteen minutes after the hour set in the invitation. asking women to dance. a man asks for the privilege of a dance either with the daughter of the hostess, with any guest of the latter, or with any young woman receiving with her. on being introduced to a woman, he may ask her for a dance, and should be punctual in keeping the engagement. it is her privilege to end the dance at any moment she wishes, after which he should conduct her to her chaperone or find a seat for her, after which he is at liberty to go elsewhere. if for any cause a man has to break his engagements to dance, he should personally explain the matter to every woman with whom he has an engagement and make a suitable apology. balls, assembly. the etiquette at an assembly ball is much the same as at a private ball, the functions and duties of the hostess being filled by a committee of women selected for that purpose. on entering the room, the guests bow to the committee and pass on. it is not necessary to take leave of the committee. carriage. a man should provide a carriage in which to call for the woman he escorts and her chaperone. chaperones. for a small ball given in a private house, the hostess need not invite the mothers of the young women, and the young women can properly attend, knowing that the hostess will act as a chaperone. but at a large ball it is necessary to invite the mother as well as the daughters, and the chaperone as well as the debutante under her care. the mother can send regrets for herself, and send her daughters in care of a maid. or she can attend, and, after remaining a suitable time, she may entrust her daughter to the care of a chaperone who intends to remain the whole evening. balls for debutante. dress. a debutante should dress in white or some extremely delicate color, and wear very little jewelry--some simple brooch or single piece of jewelry, or a slender chain of pearls. duties of daughters. except at her own debut, a daughter does not assist her mother in receiving. she should be ready, however, to see that young women have partners, and to speak, without introduction, to strangers. guest of honor. if the ball is given in honor of some special person, he should be met on his arrival, introduced to the women of the reception committee, escorted to the seat prepared for him, and be looked after the entire evening. at the end of the ball he should be escorted to his carriage. duties of host. it is not necessary that a man receive with his wife. he should do all he can to help make the ball successful, especially if his name appears on the invitation. he should assist in finding partners for the women, taking the chaperones into supper, preventing the men from selfishly remaining in the dressing-room, and at the end escorting unattended women to their carriages. when a formal supper is served, he takes into supper the leading chaperone. duties of hostess. as a ball is an entertainment for dancing, it is better to give two small balls where the guests are not crowded than one where they are. it is permissible for a hostess not having sufficient room to hire rooms in some place suitable for the purpose. in selecting guests, it is wise to have more men present than women. the hostess should see to it that the rooms are well ventilated and well lighted. an awning and a carpet from the street to the hall door should be provided. the hostess should stand near the door, prepared to receive the guests as they enter, shaking hands with each one, friend or stranger, and introducing any woman who may receive with her. a hostess herself should not dance until late in the evening, unless she knows that nearly all her guests have arrived. a wise hostess will personally see that the women are provided with partners, and that diffident young men are introduced. the hostess should see that the floor is suitable for dancing, that music is arranged, programs printed, that dressing-rooms, one for the men and one for the women, are arranged for with suitable attendants. the hostess should stand where the guests can take leave of her, and should shake hands with each when leaving. hours. in the city the hour for a ball to begin is from . to p.m., but in the country the hour is earlier--from to . . a public ball begins promptly at the time mentioned in the announcement. invitations. these are issued from ten to twenty days before the ball, and should be answered immediately. for an impromptu dance, they may be issued within a few days of the affair. these invitations should be engraved. as a general rule, it is not now customary to put on them the letters r. s. v. p. but when an engraved invitation is posted, two envelopes are used, the inner one bearing the person's name only and unsealed, and the outer bearing both the name and address and sealed. if the ball has any peculiar feature, as a masquerade or costume, the invitation should have some words to that effect in the lower left hand corner--as, costume of the xviith century, bal masque, or bal poudre. invitations asked for strangers. if a hostess receives a request from friends for invitations for friends of theirs, she can properly refuse all such requests, and no friend should feel aggrieved at a refusal for what she has no right to ask and which the hostess is under no obligation to give. if the hostess chooses to grant the request, well and good. she would naturally do so when the request is for a near relative, or the betrothed of the one making the request. a man should never ask for an invitation to a ball for another person, except for his fiancee or a near relative. a woman may ask for an invitation for her fiance, a brother, or a male friend of long standing, or for a visiting friend. she should take care that she does not ask it for some one known to the hostess and whom the latter does not desire to invite. no offense should be felt at a refusal save, possibly, in the case of a brother, sister, or fiance. invitations given by a newcomer. when a newcomer in a neighborhood desires to give a ball but has no visiting list, it is allowable for her to borrow the visiting list of some friend. the friend, however, arranges that in each envelope is placed a calling-card of her own, so that the invited ones may know that she is acting as sponsor for the newcomer. invitations answered. every invitation should be answered as soon as possible, and in the third person if the invitation was in the third person. the answer should be sent to the party requesting the pleasure, even if many names are on the invitation. when a subscriber to a subscription ball invites a friend who is a non-subscriber, she encloses her card in the envelope, and the invited friend sends the answer to the subscriber sending the invitation. introductions. when a man is introduced to a woman at a ball, he should ask her for a dance. men at. courtesy toward his hostess and consideration for his friends demands that a man who can dance should do so. to accept an invitation to a ball and then refuse to dance shows that a man is lacking in good breeding. a man finding few friends at a ball should ask some friend, or the hostess, to introduce him to some women whom he can invite to dance. it is an act of discourtesy for a man not to request a dance of a woman to whom he has been introduced. a man escorting a woman to a ball should agree where to meet her after they have each left their wraps at the dressing-rooms. it may be at the foot of the stairway or near the ball-room door. it is now no longer customary for the man and woman to enter arm in arm, but for the woman to precede the man, and together they greet the hostess. it is for the hostess to merely bow or to shake hands, and the guests follow her lead. a man should see that his companion's chaperone is comfortably seated, and then ask his companion for a couple of dances, and, with her permission, introduce other young men, who should ask her to dance. such permission is not usually asked if the man is her fiance, a near relative, or an old friend. it is strictly the woman's prerogative to decide to retire, and no man should urge or hint to a woman to retire earlier than she wishes. men--carriage. a man asking a woman to accompany him to a ball should call in a carriage for her and her chaperone. men--dress. men wear full evening dress in summer or winter, city and town. gloves of white dressed kid should be worn at all balls. newcomers. see balls-invitations given by newcomers. patronesses. see public balls--patronesses. tipping servants. only at public balls is it customary to give a tip to the men and women in charge of the cloak-room. supper. usually a buffet supper, being more easily handled and arranged for. supper at tables requires many servants, much preparation, and great care. women at. a mother should attend balls with her daughters, going and returning with them, and if she is not invited, they should decline the invitation. the father can act as escort if need be. after greeting the hostess and guests, the guests pay their respects to the head of the house if he is present. taking leave of the hostess is unnecessary. it is no longer customary for a couple to enter arm in arm, but for the woman to precede the man. a mother, elder sister, or married woman takes the precedence over a daughter, younger sister, or unmarried woman. if not at once asked to dance, a young woman should take a seat by her chaperone. it is bad taste to refuse a dance with one man and then to dance that same dance with another. both the hostess and the women wear their most elaborate costume for such an entertainment- decollete, short-sleeved, and a long train. for a less elaborate affair the costume may be plainer. balls, assembly. see assembly balls. balls, costume. see costume balls. balls, debut. see debut balls. balls, public. see public balls. balls, subscription. see subscription balls. bananas. the skin should be cut off with a knife, peeling from the top down, while holding in the hand. small pieces should be cut or broken off, and taken in the fingers, or they may be cut up and eaten with a fork. baron-how addressed. an official letter begins: my lord, and ends: i have the honor to be your lordship's obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable the baron wilson. a social letter begins: dear lord wilson, and ends: believe me, my dear lord wilson, very sincerely yours. the address is: to the lord wilson. daughter of. see daughter of baron. wife of younger son of. see wife of younger son of baron. baron, younger son of--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear mr. wilson, and ends: believe me, dear mr. wilson, sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the honorable john wilson. baroness-how addressed, an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable the baroness kent. a social letter begins: dear lady kent, and ends. believe me dear lady kent, sincerely yours. the address is: to the lady kent. baronet-how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain, sir, your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear sir john wilson, or dear sir john, and ends: believe me, dear sir john, faithfully yours. the address on the envelope is: to sir john wilson, bart. wife of, see wife of baronet. best man. the best man is usually a bachelor, but may be a married man or a widower, and is selected by the groom. he fills an important position, requiring tact, administrative ability, and capacity to handle details. he acts as the groom's representative, confidential advisor, and business advisor. after his selection he should send a gift to the bride, and may, if he wish, send it to the groom-a custom not yet clearly established, and one not to be either encouraged or followed with safety. on the morning of the wedding-day he should have received both the ring and fee from the groom, and should personally see to the church and other details. he breakfasts with the groom, and together they drive to the church. calls. he should call on the bride's mother within two weeks after the ceremony, and also on the married couple upon their return from their wedding trip. church. he accompanies the groom into the chancel, and stands by his side till the bride appears, when he receives the groom's hat and gloves, and stands a little way behind him. when the clergyman bids the bride and groom join hands, he gives the ring to to the groom. at the conclusion of the ceremony, he gives the wedding fee to the clergyman, and hastily leaves the church to summon the groom's carriage and to return him his hat. he signs the register, if a witness is needed. it is a better arrangement to have the groom and the best man enter the church without their hats, and have the latter sent from the vestry to the church door, so that the groom may receive his when he leaves the church. especially is this a good arrangement if the best man has to walk with the maid of honor down the aisle. after this, he hastens in his own carriage to the bride's home, to assist in meeting and introducing the guests at the reception or breakfast. dress. if the bride presents the best man with the boutonniere, he should go to her house on the wedding-day to have her put it in the lapel of his coat. he should dress as nearly as possible like the groom-wearing afternoon dress at an afternoon wedding, and at an evening wedding evening dress. see also groom-dress. expenses. the best man is the guest of the groom, and in matters of expense this should be borne in mind. reporters. if such is the wish of the family of the bride, the best man attends to the reporters, and furnishes them with the names of groom, bride, relatives, friends, description of gowns, and other details deemed suitable for publication. wedding breakfast. the best man escorts the maid of honor, and they are usually seated at the bridal table. wedding reception. the best man stands with the married couple, and is introduced to the guests. wedding trip. he should arrange beforehand all details of the trip-as to tickets, parlor-car, flowers, baggage, etc. he alone knows the point of destination, and is in honor bound not to betray it, save in case of emergencies. he should see that the married couple leave the house without any trouble, and if the station is near, he should go in a separate carriage (provided by the groom) to personally attend to all details. he is the last one to see the married couple, and should return to the house to give their last message to the parents. best wishes to bride. one should give best wishes to the bride and congratulations to the groom. bicycling. a man bicycling with a woman should extend to her all the courtesies practised when riding or driving with her, such as allowing her to set the pace, taking the lead on unfamiliar roads and in dangerous places, riding on the side nearest obstacles, etc. men--dress. a man should wear the regulation suit coat, waistcoat, and knickerbockers of gray or brown tweed, avoiding all eccentricities of personal taste. birth (announcement). if wishing to send congratulations after a birth, cards should be left in person or sent by a messenger. cut flowers may be sent with the card. bishop of the anglican church--how addressed. an official letter begins: my lord, and ends: i have the honor to remain your lordship's most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear lord bishop, and ends: i have the honor to remain, my dear lord bishop, faithfully yours. the address on the envelope: to the right rev. the lord bishop of kent. bishop (protestant)-how addressed. an official letter begins: right reverend and dear sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear bishop wilson, and ends: i remain sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the right reverend john j. wilson, bishop of, montana. bishop (roman catholic)--how addressed. an official or social letter begins. right reverend and dear sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain your humble servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right reverend john j. wilson, bishop of ohio. bonnets (theatre). a woman of any consideration should either wear no bonnet or remove it when the curtain rises. it would be in place for a man or a woman to politely request a woman whose bonnet obstructs the view to remove it, and, after it was done, to thank the woman for so doing. bouquets (wedding). the bouquet carried by the bride is furnished by the groom, who should also provide bouquets for the bridesmaids. bowing men, when leaving a woman at the door of her house, he bows and retires as the door is opened. when seeing a woman to her carriage, he should raise his hat on closing the door. on a railroad a man removes his hat in a parlor-car, but not in a day coach. in street-cars a man should raise his hat when giving his seat to a woman; also when rendering a service to a woman in public, in answering a question, or in apologizing to a woman. in elevators, when women are present, the hat should be removed. in hotel halls or corridors a man passing a woman should raise his hat. men do not raise their hats to one another, save out of deference to an elderly person, a person of note, or a clergyman. in driving, if impossible to raise the hat, he should touch it with his whip. the hat is gracefully lifted from the head, brought to the level of the chest, and the body inclined forward, and then replaced in passing. it is the woman's privilege to bow first if it is a mere acquaintance. if, however, a woman bows, and the man fails to recognize her, he should bow in return. a man may bow first to a very intimate friend. meeting a woman to whom he has been introduced at an entertainment, he should wait until she bows first. after bowing to a woman, the man may join her, and with her permission may walk a short distance with her. he should not stand in the street and converse with her any length of time. she may excuse herself and pass on. he should not feel affronted. if he meets a woman he does not know accompanied by a man he does know, both men bow. the man accompanying her should bow to every man or woman to whom she bows. women. a woman's bow should be dignified-- a faint smile and a gentle inclination of the head. women bow first to men when meeting in the street. a man may bow first if the acquaintance is intimate. when walking with a man, and they meet another unknown to her, but known to her escort, both men bow. if she meets a friend, man or woman, unknown to her escort, he bows. unless an introduction has taken place at any function, no recognition is customary. it is the woman's privilege, however, to decide for herself whether she will recognize the guest or not. a man bowing and joining a woman on the street must ask permission to do so. she is at perfect liberty to gracefully decline. if a man stops to talk on the street, she may excuse herself and pass on. if she continues the conversation and he stands with his hat in his hand, she may request him to replace it. such conversations should be brief. bread should be broken into small pieces, buttered, and transferred with the fingers to the mouth. the bread should be placed on the small plate provided for the purpose. breakfasts. breakfasts are generally given from ten to twelve in the morning. very formal breakfasts are held at twelve o'clock. calls. a call need not be made after a simple breakfast, but obligatory after a formal one. dress. street costumes are worn by men and women. guests. guests leave half an hour after the breakfast. hours. the hour is from to . . invitations. cards are engraved and sent a week in advance for formal breakfasts, but for informal breakfasts they may be written. if given in honor of a special guest, the name is engraved on the card--as, to meet mr. wilson. men. men are usually invited, and they are often given for men. men wear street costume. guests should leave half an hour after breakfast. a call is not necessary after a simple breakfast, but obligatory after a formal one. men leaving cards. after a breakfast a man should leave a card for host and hostess, whether the invitation was accepted or not. or it may be sent by mail or messenger, with an apology for so doing. women. women wear street costume, including gloves, the latter being taken off at table. women remove their coats and wraps, but not bonnets. guests should leave half an hour after breakfast. a call is not necessary after a simple breakfast, but obligatory after a formal one. wedding. see wedding receptions or breakfasts. breaking dinner engagements. when it is absolutely necessary to break an engagement made for a dinner, a letter should be sent as soon as possible to the hostess, either by special delivery or messenger, giving the reason and expressing regrets. bride. the bride selects the church and the clergyman, and can, if she wishes, ask the latter personally or by note to perform the ceremony. she selects the music for the ceremony and the organist, names the wedding day, and selects the ushers and the bridesmaids. of the bridesmaids, she may select one, some near friend, as the maid of honor, to act for her, as the best man does for the groom. she further designates one of the ushers to be master of ceremonies, and should instruct him minutely as to the details she desires carried out-how the wedding party shall enter the church, proceed up the aisle, etc. a few days before the wedding she gives a dinner to the bridesmaids and maid of honor, who take this opportunity to examine the trousseau. the ushers, best man, and groom may come after the dinner to attend the wedding rehearsal. these rehearsals should be gone through carefully, and if they can be held at the church so much the better. each person should be instructed by note as to their duties, as this prevents confusion. church. on the wedding-day, after receiving the bridesmaids and maid of honor at her house, she goes to the church with her father (or nearest male relative), and leans upon his arm as they proceed up the aisle, following the bridesmaids, and carrying her bridal bouquet (or, if she wishes, a prayer-book). arriving at the chancel, she leaves her father and steps forward to take the left arm of the groom, who advances from the chancel to meet her. they stand before the clergyman, and, if they wish, may kneel, and upon rising stand about a foot apart. at the words of the ceremony, "who giveth this woman away?" or, "to be married to this man?" her father advances and places her right hand in that of the clergyman, who places it in the groom's right hand. after this her father retires to his seat in the pew with his family. when the plighting of the troth comes, the groom receives the ring from the best man and hands it to the bride, who gives it to the clergyman. he returns it to the groom, who then places it on the third finger of the bride's left hand. when plighting the troth, the bride gives her glove and bouquet to the maid of honor, or, what is better, the finger of the glove may be cut to allow the ring to be placed on without the glove being removed. the kiss at the altar is no longer in good form. at the end of the ceremony, after the clergyman has congratulated the married couple, the bride takes her husband's right arm and they lead the procession to the vestibule, where they receive the congratulations of near friends. here the maid of honor and bridesmaids cloak and prepare the bride for the trip home in the groom's carriage. dress. the bride is veiled, and is dressed in white-full dress, day or evening. gloves need not be worn in the church. the bridesmaids provide their own outfit, unless the bride asks them to dress in a style of her own selecting. in this case, she supplies them gowns, hats, gloves, and shoes, as she may wish. farewell luncheon. while a farewell luncheon given to the bridesmaids by the bride is not necessary, yet it is a pleasant way for a woman to entertain her female friends the last time in her father's house. on this occasion it is a good plan for the bride to give to the maid of honor and brides-maids her souvenirs, which, of course, should be alike, and of use at the wedding ceremony. gifts. the bride may give to the groom a ring as an engagement ring if she wishes. she should make suitable gifts to the bridesmaids as souvenirs of the occasion, and may also present them with flowers. if she presents boutonnieres to the best man and the ushers, they should appear at her house before the ceremony and have her place them in the lapel of their coats. she should acknowledge immediately the receipt of all wedding gifts. gloves. the bride need not wear gloves in the church. invitations. at a church wedding the bride usually provides the bridesmaids with extra invitations for their personal use. kiss. only the parents of the bride and her most intimate relatives should kiss the bride. it is now no longer good form for all to do so. seeing groom on wedding-day. it is not customary for the bride to see the groom on the wedding-day till she meets him at the altar. wedding breakfast. the bride and groom occupy the centre one of the small tables. at all wedding breakfasts it is customary for the guests to assemble in the drawing-room, and then to enter the breakfast-room together--the bride and groom leading the way. it is not usual to have the bridal cake at a wedding breakfast, but if such is the case, the bride makes the first cut, and the slices are given first to those at the bridal table. wedding reception. she should stand by her husband's side to receive the best wishes of all present. the guests are not announced, but are introduced by the ushers to the bride if not known to her. the bride should not leave her place to mingle with the guests until all have been introduced to her. bride's family. see family of bride. bride's father. see father of bride. bride's mother. see mother of bride. bridegroom. see groom. bridesmaids. the bridesmaids are selected by the bride, and number six, eight, or twelve-- mostly eight. she usually gives them a dinner a few days before the wedding, at which she shows them the trousseau and discusses the details of the wedding. the ushers and the groom are invited to come after the dinner, and then the rehearsal takes place. the bridesmaids should be present at this and all other rehearsals, and if unable to be present at the wedding should give the bride ample notice, that a substitute may be secured. calls. they call upon the mother of the bride within a week or ten days after the ceremony, and upon the bride, in her own home, after her return from her wedding trip. carriages. a carriage provided by the family of the bride calls for the bridesmaid on the wedding-day, and takes her to the bride's house. her carriage follows the bride's to the church, and, after the ceremony, takes her to the wedding breakfast or reception. church. they meet at the house of the bride, and there take their carriages to the church. while their carriages follow that of the bride, they alight first and receive her in the vestibule. they may carry bouquets supplied by the bride's family or the groom. in the procession up the aisle they follow the ushers, walking two by two, and as the ushers approach the altar they divide--one-half to the right and one-half to the left. the bridesmaids do likewise, leaving space for the bridal party to pass. in the procession down the aisle they follow the best man and maid of honor to the vestibule, where, after giving their best wishes to the bride, and congratulations to the groom, they return to the bride's home to assist in entertaining the guests at the reception or breakfast. dancing. at the wedding breakfast or reception dancing is sometimes indulged in. dinner to married couple. the bridesmaids usually give a dinner to the married couple on the latter's return from their wedding trip. dress. they usually follow the wishes of the bride in the matter of dress. should she desire any particular style of dress, entailing considerable expense, on account of novelty or oddity, she usually presents them the outfit, which it is permissible for them to accept. if the bride has no particular wish, they decide the matter among themselves, always bearing in mind that their style of dress and material must be subordinated to that of the bride, and that there could be no greater exhibition of lack of refinement and good taste than for any bridesmaid to make herself in any way more attractive than the bride. gifts. it is customary for them to send a wedding gift to the bride. they usually receive a pretty souvenir from the bride and a bouquet from the groom. invitations. at a large church wedding several invitations are usually given to the bridesmaids for their own personal use. rehearsals. they should be present at all rehearsals. wedding breakfasts. they pair off with the ushers, and are usually seated at a table by themselves. wedding receptions. they stand beside the married couple, and are introduced to the guests. brother at debut. a brother, when his sister's debut takes the form of a supper or dinner, should take his sister (the debutante) into dinner or supper. butler--tips. it is customary for a man leaving a house-party where he has been a guest to tip the butler who acted as a valet. cabinet ( u. s,), member of--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mr. wilson, and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: hon. john j. wilson, secretary of state. cake. is broken into pieces, the size of a mouthful, and then eaten with fingers or fork. calls. unless close intimacy exists, calls should only be made on the specified days. asking men to call on women. a debutante should leave this matter to her mother or chaperone. a young woman, until she has had some experience in society, should be very careful in inviting men to call. she should not invite a man to call whom she has met for the first time. no man should be invited to call until she is assured of his social standing and character. in some parts of the country men first ask permission to call, and in other parts women first ask men to call. asking women to call on women. it is generally the custom for the married or elder woman to ask the unmarried or younger woman to call. bachelors' dinners. see bachelors' dinners --calls. breakfast. see breakfasts--calls. best man. see best man--calls bridesmaids. see bridesmaids--calls. chaperones. see chaperones--men calling. business. a business man may call in street dress upon a woman before six o'clock. social visits may be made in the same manner. days at home. calls should only be made on the regular "at home" days, and the hostess should always be present on that day. very intimate friends may set aside this rule. debutante. see debutante--calls. dress. when making an afternoon call, a man would wear afternoon dress, and evening dress in making an evening call. high tea. see high tea--calls. hours. when no special day for receiving is indicated, calls may be made at any proper hour, according to the custom of the locality. men of leisure may call at the fashionable hours from two till five in the afternoon, while business and professional men may call between eight and nine in the evening, as their obligations prevent them from observing the fashionable hours. length. a formal call may last from fifteen to thirty minutes. old friends may stay longer. luncheons. see luncheon--calls. men. after entertainments. after an entertainment a man should call in person on host and hostess, whether the invitation was accepted or not. if a card is sent or mailed, it should be accompanied with an apology. to call on an acquaintance in an opera box does not relieve one of the duty of making a formal call in return for social favors. when calling on the hostess but not on the host, a man should leave a card for him. if the hostess be out, he should leave two cards. married men can return their social obligations to women by personal calls, or the women of the family can leave the men's cards with their own. a call should be made the day following a luncheon or a breakfast; the same after a dinner, or at least within a week. a call should be made within a week after a ball. after a theatre party given by a man, he should call within three days on the woman he escorted, or leave his card, and should call within a week on the remainder of his guests. men calling on men. at the beginning of the season it is usual to leave a card for each member of a family called on--one card for husband, wife, "misses," and guest, or rest of the family. sometimes two cards answer the purpose. they may be sent by mail or messenger. men calling on women. a man should call only on "at home" days, especially when making the first call, unless specially invited. he should call at the hour appointed. when no special day for receiving is indicated, calls may be made at any proper hour, according to the custom of the locality. men of leisure may call at the fashionable hours --from two till five o'clock. business and professional men may call between eight and nine o'clock, as their obligations prevent them from observing the fashionable hours. a business man may call in street dress before six o'clock, and the same dress in the evening, if intimately acquainted. informal calls may be made on sunday after three o'clock by business and professional men, provided there are no religious or other scruples on the part of those receiving the calls. evening or other than mere formal calls should not be made, save by special invitation. the first call should last not longer than ten or fifteen minutes. it is correct to ask for all the women of the family. at the first call he should give his card at the door. at following calls it is optional whether to give a card or merely the name, asking at the same time for the person one desires to see. when the servant's intelligence seems doubtful, or the name is an unusual one, it is safer to give a card. when a woman invites a man to call without specifying when, it is not considered as an invitation at all, but merely as a formal courtesy. it is bad form to solicit by innuendo or otherwise an invitation to call from a woman. it is her privilege to make the first move in such matters; otherwise she would be placed in an embarrassing position. when an invitation specifies the hour, every effort should be made to be punctual. it is impolite to be too early or too late. at a formal call, when others are present, a man should not be seated unless invited to do so. he should leave as others come in, and not remain longer than ten or fifteen minutes. a man having a card or letter of introduction to a young woman should present it in person to the chaperone. if she is out, he should mail it to her, and she should at once notify him whether he may call. if a caller is a stranger to the young woman's hostess, he should send his card to the latter and ask to see her. the chaperone may, if desirable, give a man permission to call upon the woman under her charge. a man should not call upon an unmarried woman until invited by her to do so. he may ask a married woman who has a family for permission to call. gloves. gloves need not be removed at a formal or brief call. entertainments. at entertainments a man should give his card to the servant at the door or leave it in the hall. a few appropriate words of greeting should be addressed to the hostess and host as soon after entering as possible. personal introductions are not absolutely required at musicales, teas, "at homes," etc. one may converse with those nearest, but this does not warrant future recognition. when light repasts are served, as teas, ices, etc, a man should put his napkin on his knee and hold the plate in his hand. he should depart with as little ceremony as possible--a bow and a smile, if host and hostess are engaged, are sufficient. he should not shake hands and try to speak unless it can be done without becoming conspicuous. men calling on women--hat. a man making a formal or brief call should carry his hat in his hand into the parlor. shaking hands. a man should not offer to shake hands first, as that is the privilege of the women. men--dress. in making ceremonious calls, men wear afternoon dress, and after six o'clock evening dress. see also afternoon dress--men. evening dress--men. pall-bearers. see pall-bearers--calls. theatre. see theatre--calls. ushers. see ushers--calls. wedding invitations. very intimate friends can call personally. friends of the groom who have no acquaintance with the bride's family should send their cards to those inviting them. those who do not receive wedding invitations, announcement, or "at home" cards should not call on the married couple, but consider themselves as dropped from their circle of acquaintance. women receiving and inviting men. the invitation to call should be extended by the woman, and if she does not specify the time, will naturally be considered as an act of courtesy, but not as an invitation. these invitations should be given with great care by young women. it is better to have the invitation extended by her mother or chaperone. a married woman may ask a man to call, especially if she have unmarried daughters. an afternoon tea is an appropriate time to specify. a man may ask a married woman who has a family for permission to call. at the beginning of a season, a man who desires the further acquaintance of a woman should leave his card in person for all the members of the family. a formal call, or the first call of the season, should, mot last longer than ten or fifteen minutes. it is proper for the man to inquire for all the women of the family. a man should call only on "at home" days, unless especially invited to come at other times. the hostess should be home on all "at home" days, unless sickness or other good cause prevents. in the absence of "at home" days, or specified time, calls may be received at any proper hour, according to the locality of the place. when men make a formal call at other than specified time, the hostess may justly excuse herself. the caller would have no ground for offense. intimate friends need not hold to formal hours for paying calls. men of leisure should call only at fashionable hours--from two to five in the afternoon. evening calls should not be made by other than business or professional men, unless the acquaintance be an intimate one, or unless they are specially invited. business and professional men may call between eight and nine o'clock, as their obligations prevent them from observing the fashionable hours. informal calls may be made on sunday after three o'clock by business and professional men, provided there are no religious or other scruples on the part of those receiving the calls. a business man may call in street dress before six o'clock in the evening, or thereafter if intimacy warrants. evening, or other than mere formal calls, should not be made, save by special invitation. a man should leave his card when calling. if his hostess is married, he should leave one also for the host. if she is out, he should leave two. when calling upon a young woman whose hostess is not known to the man, he should send his card to her. if the woman is seated when a man enters the room, she rises to greet him, and, if she wishes, shakes hands. it is her option to shake hands or not, and she should make the first advances. it is bad form for him to do so. during a formal call, when other guests are present, a man should remain standing and depart upon the entrance of others. if the hostess is seated at the time, she need not rise or shake hands, but merely bow. the hostess should not accompany a caller to the door of the parlor, but bow from her chair. dropping in at a theatre or opera party does not relieve a man from making formal calls that may be due. a woman's escort to a theatre party should call upon her within a week. if she were his guest, he should do so within three days, or send his card, with an apology. business calls are privileged, and can be made when convenient, although preferably by appointment. women receiving--introductions. at formal calls conversation should be general among the guests. introductions are unnecessary. afternoon. see afternoon calls. country. see country calls. evening. see evening calls. first. see first calls. invalid's. see invalid's calls. sunday. see sunday calls. canceling dinners. when it becomes necessary for a hostess to cancel or postpone a dinner, she should send as soon as possible, either by special delivery or messenger, a letter to each guest who has accepted the invitation. the letter, written either in the first or third person, should state the reason and express regrets. canceling weddings. see weddings-invitations recalled. canes. a cane is the correct thing for a man when walking, except when engaged in business. it should be held a few inches below the knob, ferrule down, and should, like umbrellas, be carried vertically. calling. when making a formal or brief call the cane should be left in the hall. cardinal-how addressed. a letter, official or social, begins: your eminence, and ends: i have the honor to remain your humble servant. the address on the envelope is: his eminence cardinal wilson. cards. debut. see debut cards. debutants. see debutante cards. infant. see infant's cards. in memoriam. see in memoriam cards. mourning. see mourning cards. cards, visiting. addressing. see addressing cards (visiting). afternoon teas. see cards (visiting), leaving in person--afternoon teas. cards (visiting), mail or messenger-afternoon teas. at home. see at home-cards. birth (announcement). see cards (visiting), leaving in person--birth. condolence. see condolence--cards. daughter. see daughters--cards (visiting). garden parties. see garden parties--cards. husband and wife. when the wife is calling, she can leave cards of the husband and sons if it is impossible for them to do so themselves. after an entertainment, cards of the family can be left for the host and hostess by either the wife or any of the daughters. see also mr. and mrs. card. leaving in person. when cards with a message of congratulation are left in person, nothing should be written on it. leaving in person--afternoon teas. women leave cards of their male relatives as well as their own, although their names may be announced upon entering the drawing-room. guests leave their cards in a receptacle provided, or give them to the servant at the door. men. a bachelor should not use at home cards as a woman does, nor to invite his friends by writing a date and music at four on his calling card in place of an invitation. men--leaving in person. when returning to town after a long absence, a man should leave cards having his address. when calling upon a young woman whose hostess is not known by the man, he should send his card to her. at the beginning of a season, a man should leave two cards for all those whose entertainments he is in the habit of attending, or on whom he pays social calls. these cards may also be mailed. if left in person, there should be one for each member of the family called upon, or only two cards. in the former there should be left one card for the host, one for the hostess, one for the "misses," and one for the rest of the family and their guest. men of leisure should leave their own cards, while business men can have them left by the women of the family. the corner of the card should not be turned down. cards are now left in the hall by the servant and the caller is announced. in business calls the card is taken to the person for whom the caller asked. when calling, a man should leave a card whether the hostess is at home or not. p. p. c. card's may be left in person or sent by mail upon departure from city, or on leaving winter or summer resort. when a man calls upon a young woman whom a hostess is entertaining, he should leave cards for both. when a man calls upon another man, if he is not at home, he should leave a card. when a man calls on the hostess but not the host he should leave a card for him. if the hostess is out, he should leave two cards--one for each. breakfasts, luncheons, dinners. a man should leave a card the day after a breakfast, luncheon, or dinner for the host and hostess, whether the invitation was accepted or not. they may also be sent by mail or messenger, with an apology for so doing. balls, subscription. shortly after receiving an invitation to a subscription ball, a man should leave a card for the patroness inviting him. debutante. when calling upon a debutante a man should leave cards for her mother, whether the entertainment was attended or not. entertainment by men. after a man's formal entertainment for men, a man should leave a card within one week, whether the event was attended or not. it can be sent by mail or messenger. reception. when the host and hostess receive together, a man should leave one card for both, and if not present at the reception, he should send two cards. theatre. after a theatre party given by a man, he should call within three days on the woman he escorted or leave his card. wedding reception. after a wedding reception a man should leave a card for the host and hostess, and another for the bridal couple. if a man has been invited to the church but not to the wedding reception, he should leave a card for the bride's parents and the bridal couple, or should mail a card. sending by mail, or messenger. after an entertainment a man should call in person on host and hostess, whether the invitation was accepted or not. if a card is mailed or sent, it should be accompanied with an apology. at the beginning of the season a man should leave cards for all those whose entertainments he is in the habit of attending, or on whom he pays social calls. these cards may also be mailed. if left in person, there should be one for each member of the household or only two cards. in the former case, there should be left one card for the host, one for the hostess, one for the "misses," and one for the rest of the family and the guest. if a man is unable to make a formal call upon a debutante and her mother at her debut, he should send his card by mail or messenger. a man may mail his card to a woman engaged to be married, if acquaintance warrants. visitors to town should send cards to every one whom they desire to see. the address should be written on them. afternoon tea. if a man is unable to be present at an afternoon tea, he should send a card the same afternoon. breakfasts, luncheons, dinners. a man should leave a card the day after a breakfast, luncheon, or dinner for the host and hostess, whether the invitation was accepted or not. they may be sent by mail or messenger with an apology for so doing. entertainment by men. after a man's formal entertainment for men, a man should leave a card within one week, whether the event was attended or not. it can be sent by mail or messenger. p. p. c. cards may be sent by mail or messenger upon departure from city, or on leaving winter or summer resort. reception. when the host and hostess receive together, a man should leave one card for both, and, if not present at the reception, he should send two cards. wedding reception. if a man has been invited to the church but not the wedding reception, he should leave or mail a card to the bride's parents, and also to the bridal couple. style. the full name should be used, and if too long, the initials only. the club address is put in the lower left-hand corner, and if not living at a club, the home address should be in lower right-hand corner. in the absence of a title, mr. is always used on an engraved but not a written card. cards should be engraved in plain letter, according to prevailing fashion. facsimile cards engraved are no longer used. written cards are in bad taste, but in case of necessity they may be used. the name should be written in full if not too long, and should be the autograph of the sender. messages or writing should not appear on men's cards. if address is changed, new cards should be engraved. in an emergency only the new address may be written. mourning cards are the same size as visiting- cards, and a black border is used--the width to be regulated by the relationship of the deceased relative. men--style, titles. men having titles use them before their names--as, reverend, rev., mr., dr., army and navy titles, and officers on retired list. l.l.d. and all professional titles are placed after the name. political and judicial titles are always omitted. physicians may use dr. before or m.d. after the name. on cards intended for social use, office hours and other professional matter are omitted. mr. and mrs. see mr. and mrs. cards. p. p. c. see p. p. c. cards. sending by mail or messenger. if after accepting an invitation it is necessary to decline, a card should be sent the evening of the entertainment, with an explanatory note the day following. when an invitation has been received to an "at home" debut, and one has not been able to attend, cards should be sent by mail or messenger, to arrive at the time of the ceremony. a card should be mailed to a man engaged to be married. afternoon teas. the invitations to a formal afternoon tea are sent a week or ten days in advance by mail or messenger. no reply is necessary, but if unable to be present, a card should be sent the day of the entertainment. for an afternoon tea a visiting-card may be used, with the hour for the "tea" written or engraved over the date beneath the fixed day of that week. they may be sent by mail or messenger. persons unable to attend should send cards the same afternoon. birth (announcement). if wishing to congratulate after a birth, cards should be left in person or sent by a messenger. cut flowers may be sent with the card. condolence. after a death in the family of an acquaintance, a card with the word condolence written on it should be left in person or by messenger. for very intimate acquaintances, cut flowers may be left in person or sent, together with a card or letter. when unable to leave in person a card with condolence written on it, send it to intimate friends only with a note of apology. if out of town, it should be sent with a letter of condolence. travelers. a woman visiting a place for a length of time should mail to her friends a visiting-card which contains her temporary address. a man in similar situation should call upon his friends, and if he does not find them at home, should leave his card. wedding invitations. those present at the ceremony should leave cards for those inviting them, and if this is not possible, they can be sent by mail or messenger. those invited but not present should send cards. widow. see widows--cards. wife. only the wife of the oldest member of the oldest branch may use her husband's name without the initials. women. mrs. or miss should always be used before the names. the cards of single women are smaller than those of married women. the husband's name should be used in full, unless too long, when the initials are used. only the wife of the oldest member of the oldest branch may use her husband's name without initials. reception days should appear in the lower left-hand corner, limiting dates--as, until lent, or in january, may be either engraved or written. if a special function is allotted to any reception days--as, the entertaining of special guests--the hour of the reception day may be written above the day and the date beneath it. daughters. see daughters--cards. leaving in person--birth, announcement of. if wishing to send congratulations, after receipt of a birth announcement card, cards should be left in person or sent by a messenger; cut flowers may be sent with the card. before the wedding cards are issued, an engaged woman should leave her card personally upon her friends without entering the house. when calling at the beginning of the season a woman should leave her own card, those of the men of the family, and two of her husband's. after formal invitations, a woman should leave her own card and those of the men of the family who were invited, whether they attended or not. when calling formally a woman should leave a card, whether the hostess is at home or not. when a woman calls upon a well-known friend, it is not necessary to send up a card. when making a call at a hotel or other public place, the name of the person called upon should be written in the upper left- hand corner of the card--as: for mrs. jane wilson the corner of the card should not be turned down. p. p. c. cards may be left in person or sent by mail upon departure from city, or on leaving winter or summer resort. the corner of the card should not be turned down. reception. at receptions a woman should leave the cards in the hall or hand them to the servant. at a "coming-out reception" a woman should leave cards for the mother and daughter. a married man returns his social obligations to women by personal calls, or his wife can do it for him by leaving his card with her own. mother and daughter. after her debut the younger of the two daughters has no card of her own, as her full baptismal name appears on her mother's card beneath her name. a year after her first appearance she may have a card of her own. when a mother leaves her daughter's card, it is for the hostess only. if reception day appear on the mother's card, the daughters also receive on that date, as the daughters have no reception days of their own. mother and son. when a mother is calling, she can leave cards of her son for the host and hostess if it is impossible for him to do so himself. a son entering society can have his cards left by his mother upon a host and hostess. invitations to entertainments will follow. returning to town. cards of the entire family should be sent by mail to all acquaintances when returning after a prolonged absence. when using cards, if out of town, the place of a woman's permanent residence can be written on the card--thus: new york. philadelphia. sending by mail or messenger. a woman visiting a place for a length of time should mail to her friends her visiting-card containing her temporary address. p. p. c. cards may be sent by mail or messenger upon departure from city, or on leaving winter or summer resort. after a change of residence the cards of the entire family should be sent out as soon as possible. at the beginning of the season both married and single women should send their cards to all their acquaintances. visitors to town should send cards to every one whom they desire to see, with the address written on the cards. for afternoon tea a visiting-card may be used. the hour for the tea is written or engraved over, and the date beneath the fixed day of the week. they may be sent by mail or messenger. the cards of a debutante may be sent by mail or messenger. mourning cards should be sent to indicate temporary retirement from society. later cards should be sent to indicate return to society. afternoon tea. if a woman is unable to be present at an afternoon tea she should send her card the same afternoon. wedding reception. when invitations have been received to the church but not to the wedding reception, cards should be sent to the bride's parents and to the bridal couple. women--style, titles. women having titles should use them before the name--as, reverend or rev. mrs. smith. physicians use dr. before or m.d. after the name. office hours and other professional matters are omitted on cards for social use. husband's titles should never be used. the home address is put in the lower right-hand and the club address in the lower left-hand corner. the card of the eldest daughter in society is simply miss wilson. cards of admission to church weddings. these cards are used at all public weddings held in churches, and when they are used no one should be admitted to the church without one. they are sent with the wedding invitations. carriages. balls. see balls-carriages. dances. see dances-carriages. funerals. see funerals-carriages. men. in a general way a man should provide a carriage when escorting a woman in evening dress to any function. if she does not wear evening dress, and they are going to an informal affair, it would be proper to take a street-car. suppers. see supper and theatre parties--men--carriages. theatres. see theatres and opera parties given by men--carriages. women. a woman accepting, with her mother's or chaperone's consent, a man's invitation to the theatre may, with propriety, request him not to provide a carriage unless full dress on her part is requested. catholic priest--how addressed. an official letter begins: reverend and dear sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain your humble servant. a social letter begins: dear father wilson, and ends: i beg to remain faithfully yours, the address on the envelope is: the reverend john j. wilson. but if he holds the degree of d.d. (doctor of divinity), the address is: reverend john j. wilson, d.d., or reverend dr. john j. wilson. celery is eaten with the fingers. change of residence. women. after a change of residence, the cards of the entire family should be sent out as soon as possible. chaperone. a chaperone takes precedence of her charge in entering drawing or dancing rooms and on ceremonious occasions. at an entertainment both enter together, and the chaperone should introduce her protege to the hostess and to others. the two should remain together during the evening. in a general way the chaperon takes under her charge the social welfare of her protege. balls. a mother should attend balls with her daughters, going and returning with them, and if she is not invited, it is in good taste for the daughters to decline the invitation. a father can act as escort, if need be, instead of the mother. a mother can delegate her powers to some one else when requested to act as a chaperone. men calling. a man should ask the chaperone's permission to call upon her protege, and once it is granted no further permission is necessary. the chaperone should be present while a debutante receives male callers the first year, and when the first call is made she should be present throughout the evening and should decide as to the necessity of her presence during subsequent visits. cards. a chaperone introducing and accompanying young women should leave her own card with that of her protege. dances. the chaperone should give her permission to a man who desires to dance, promenade, or go to supper with her charge, who should not converse with him at length save at the chaperon's side, and the chaperon should accompany both to supper. if without an escort, the young woman may accept the invitation of her last partner before supper is announced. introductions. a man should never be introduced direct by card or letter to a young unmarried woman. if he desires to be introduced, the letter or card of introduction should be addressed to her chaperone or mother, who may then introduce him to the young woman if she deems it advisable. at an entertainment a chaperone may ask a young man if he wishes to be introduced to the one under her care. letters of introduction. a man having a letter of introduction to a young woman should present it in person to the chaperone. if the latter is out when he calls, he should mail it to her, and she may then notify him when he may call, and should herself be present. supper, tea, dinner. a young woman receiving an invitation to a man's supper, tea, or dinner may accept if she has the consent of her mother or chaperone, and is assured that a chaperone will be present. theatres. a chaperone's permission should be asked before a man's invitation to the theatre can be accepted. the chaperone can also accept, on behalf of her protege, invitations from men to theatre parties or suppers, if she too is invited. the chaperone should be present at mixed theatre parties--one for small, and two or more for larger parties and suppers. the chaperones may use their own carriage to call for the guests, and then meet the men at the places of entertainment. the chaperone should say when the entertainment shall close. unable to be present. when a chaperone is unable to fulfill her duties, she may delegate them to another, provided it is agreeable to all concerned. cheese is first cut into small bits, then placed on pieces of bread or cracker, and lifted by the fingers to the mouth. china wedding. this is the twentieth wedding anniversary, and is not usually celebrated; but if it is, the invitation may bear the words no presents received, and congratulations may be extended in accepting or declining the invitation. an entertainment is usually provided for. any article of china is appropriate as a gift. choir-boys at weddings. these form a brilliant addition to a church wedding, and when employed they meet the bridal party in the vestibule, and precede them to the altar, singing a hymn or other appropriate selection. christening. dress. the mother wears an elaborate reception gown to the church, with white gloves and a light hat or bonnet. if the ceremony is at the house, she can wear an elaborate tea-gown. the guests wear afternoon or evening dress, according whether the ceremony comes before or after p.m. flowers. a christening ceremony offers a good opportunity for the guests who desire to present flowers to the mother. this is not obligatory, however, and must remain a matter of personal taste. gifts. a christening ceremony offers a good opportunity for the invited guests, if they desire, to send a present to the baby. these should be sent a day or two before the ceremony, and if of silver should be marked with the child's name, initials, or monogram. guests. the invitations should be promptly answered. at a church ceremony the guests, as they are few in number, assemble in the front pews. at a large house christening the affair is conducted somewhat like an afternoon reception. wine is drunk to the child's health, and the guests take leave of the hostess. invitations are issued by the wife only to intimate friends, and should be promptly answered. if the christening is made a formal entertainment, to take place in the drawing-room, the invitations may be engraved. men. if the ceremony is in the afternoon they wear afternoon dress, but at an evening affair evening dress. at an afternoon ceremony in the summer it is allowable for the men to wear straw hats and light flannel suits. at a large house christening the affair should be conducted somewhat like a reception, and men on departing should take leave of the hostess. women dress as they would for an afternoon reception if the ceremony comes in the afternoon, and if it comes after breakfast or luncheon, as they would for a breakfast or luncheon. at a large house christening the affair should be conducted like a reception, and women should take leave of the hostess on their departure. church. a man usually follows the woman, who leads to the pew, and he enters after her, closing the door as he does so. he should find the places in the service book for her. this same courtesy he should extend to a woman who is a stranger to him. clergyman. christening fees. it is customary to send a fee to the officiating clergyman, unless he is a relative or a near friend. evening dress. custom permits a clergyman to wear his clerical dress at all functions at which other men wear evening dress; or, if he wishes, he may also wear the regulation full dress. the wearing of either is a matter of taste. how addressed. all mail and correspondence should be addressed to rev. mr. smith, but in conversation a clergyman should be addressed as mr. smith. if he has received the degree of d.d. (doctor of divinity)from some educational institution, then he is addressed as dr. smith, and his mail should be addressed as rev. dr. smith. wedding ceremony. the officiating clergyman (minister or priest) is selected by the bride, who usually chooses her family minister, and the latter is then called upon by the groom with regard to the details. if a very intimate friend or relative of the groom is a clergyman, it is in good taste for the bride to ask him either to officiate or to assist. if from any cause--as, living outside the state--the clergyman is unable to legally perform the ceremony, a magistrate should be present to legalize the ceremony, and should receive a fee. carriage. a carriage should be provided by the groom to take the clergyman to the church, then to the reception, and thence to his house. fee. a fee should be paid the clergyman by the groom through the best man, who should hand it to him immediately after the ceremony. if two or three clergymen are present and assist, the fee of the officiating clergyman is double that of the others. the clergyman should receive at least five dollars in gold, clean bills, or check, in a sealed envelope, or more, in proportion to the groom's financial condition and social position. wedding reception. the clergyman should always be invited to the reception. club. address. if residing at a club, a man's visiting- card should have his club's name in the lower right-hand corner; if not, the name should be put in lower left-hand corner. stationery. this is always in good form for social correspondence by men. coaching. see driving. coachman-tips. it is customary when a guest leaves a house party after a visit to give the coachman a tip. college degrees. custom, good taste, and the fitness of things forbid a college man having engraved, on his visiting-card, his college degrees--as, a.b., a.m., etc. commerce, secretary of--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mr. wilson, and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: hon. john j. wilson, secretary of commerce. committees-public balls. public balls are conducted like private ones, and the etiquette is the same for the guests. the difference in their management is that, in place of a hostess, her functions and duties are filled by committees selected by the organization giving the ball. conclusion of a letter. the standard conclusions of letters are: i remain sincerely yours, or; believe me faithfully yours. for business correspondence the standard conclusions are: yours truly, or; very truly yours. for relatives and dear friends the standard forms are: affectionately yours, or; devotedly yours. one should avoid signing a letter with only initials, christian name, surnames, or diminutives. men. in writing formally on business to a woman he knows slightly, a man could say: i am respectfully yours. when not on business he could write: i beg to remain yours to command. he should avoid a signature like: j. jones wilson, but write: james j. wilson women. in social correspondence a married woman should sign: minnie wilson, and not: mrs. john wilson. if she wants to make known in a business letter the fact of her being married, and may not know if the person addressed knows the fact, she may write: minnie wilson (mrs. john wilson) an unmarried woman would sign her name as: minnie wilson, and if wishing not to be taken for a widow would sign: miss minnie wilson. condolence. calls. when death occurs in the family of a friend, one should call in person and make kindly inquiries for the family and leave a card, but should not ask to see those in trouble unless a very near and dear acquaintanceship warrants. for a very intimate acquaintance, cut flowers may be left in person or sent, together with a card, unless the request has been made to send none. cards. a visiting-card is used with the word condolence written on it, and should be left in person if possible, but may be sent or mailed to intimate friends only if accompanied by a note of apology. if out of town, it should be sent by mail with letter of condolence. a mr. and mrs. card may be used at any time for condolence, except for intimate friends. letters. only the most intimate and dear friends should send letters of condolence, and they may send flowers with the note unless the request has been made to send none. congratulations. birth, announcement of. if wishing to send congratulations after a birth, cards should be left in person or sent by messenger. cut flowers may be sent with the card. cards. a mr. and mrs. card can be used at any time for congratulations. if left in person, which is preferable, the card should be accompanied by a kindly message, and, if sent by mail or messenger' the word congratulations should be written on it. business and professional men are not required to make personal calls, and so may send their cards. a mr. and mrs. card can be used for all but near friends. when a card is left in person, with a message of congratulations, nothing should be written thereon. a man may mail his card to a woman engaged to be married, if acquaintance warrants the action. congratulations upon the birth of a child may be expressed by a man to its father by sending a card with the word congratulations written on it, or by leaving it in person. a card should be mailed to a man engaged to be married. weddings. congratulations may be sent with letter of acceptance or declination to a wedding to those sending the invitations. and if acquaintance with bride and groom warrant, a note of congratulations may be sent to them also. guests in personal conversation with the latter give best wishes to the bride and congratulations to the groom. wedding anniversaries. in accepting or declining invitations to wedding anniversaries, congratulations may be extended. conversation at dinners. aim at bright and general conversation, avoiding all personalities and any subject that all cannot join in. this is largely determined by the character of the company. the guests should accommodate themselves to their surroundings. cooks-tips. it is customary for men who have been guests at a house party when they leave to remember the cook by sending her a tip. corn on the cob is eaten with the fingers of one hand. a good plan is to cut off the kernels and eat them with the aid of a fork. corner of card turned down. this is no longer done by persons when calling and leaving cards. correspondence. how to address official and social letters. see under title of person addressed --as, archbishop, etc. costume balls.--invitations. invitations are similar to invitations to balls, except that they have in place of dancing in the lower left-hand corner. costume of the xviiith century, bal masque, or bal poudre. cotillions. germans are less formal than balls. supper precedes the dancing. those who do not dance or enjoy it can leave before that time. the etiquette is the same as for balls. dress. the regulation evening dress is worn. hostess. the rules governing a hostess when giving a ball are the same for a cotillion, with this addition--that there should be an even number of men and women, and, failing this, more men than women. it is for the hostess to choose the leader of the cotillion, and to him are entrusted all its details. at the conclusion of the cotillion the hostess stands at the door with the leader at her side, to receive the greetings and the compliments of the guests. see also balls--hostess. invitations. the invitations are engraved, and the hour for beginning is placed in the lower left-hand corner, and are sent out two weeks in advance. they may be sent in one envelope. such invitations should be promptly accepted or declined. cotilions by subscriptions. these are given by leading society women, who subscribe to a fund sufficient to pay all expenses of the entertainment. they are usually held in some fashionable resort where suitable accommodations can be had. guests are shown to the cloak-room, where attendants check their wraps. after the supper, the german, or cotillion, begins. those not dancing in this generally retire. when leaving, guests should take leave especially of the patroness inviting them. dress. full dress is worn by all. invitations. the patronesses whose names appear on the back of the cards are the subscribers. they send out the invitations to their friends. a presentation card, to be shown at the door, is sent with the invitation. men. men wear evening dress. the men wait upon their partners and themselves at the table, the waiters assisting, unless small tables are used, when the patronesses sit by themselves, and others form groups as they like. the guests are served by the waiters, as at a dinner. when retiring, guests should take leave especially of the patroness inviting them. patronesses. the patronesses stand in line to receive the guests, bowing or shaking hands as they prefer. when supper is announced, the leading patroness leads the way with her escort, the others following. if small tables are used, the patronesses sit by themselves. women. women wear full dress. when guests depart, they should take leave especially of the patroness inviting them. countess--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable the countess of kent. a social letter begins: dear lady kent, and ends: believe me, dear lady kent, sincerely yours. the address is: to the countess of kent. country calls. the usual rule in calling is for the residents to call first upon the temporary cottage people, and between these latter the early comers call first upon those coming later. in the city there is no necessity for neighbors to call upon each other. crackers should be broken into small pieces and eaten with the fingers. crests. if men and women wish, these may be stamped in the latest fashionable colors on their stationery. it is not customary to use a crest and a stamped address on the same paper. the present fashion in crests is that they should be of small size. it is not usual to stamp the crest on the flap of the envelope. if sealing-wax is used, some dull color should be chosen. a person should avoid all individual eccentricities and oddities in stamping, such as facsimile autographs, etc. crystal weddings. this anniversary comes after fifteen years of married life, and the invitations may bear the words: no presents received, and on their acceptance or declination, congratulations may be extended. an entertainment should be provided for. any article of crystal or glass is appropriate as a gift. dances. carriages. a man should secure his carriage-check when leaving his carriage. it is safer to take wraps and coats to the house in case of accidents. when taking a woman wearing evening dress to a ball or dance, a man should provide a carriage. debutante. see dances--women--debutante. dress. evening dress is worn by men and women. dinner invitations. the hostess issues two sets of invitations--one for those invited to both dinner and dance, and one for those invited to the dance only. for the former, the hostess should use her usual engraved dinner cards, with the written words: dancing at eleven, and for the latter her usual engraved at home cards, with the written words: dancing at eleven. a less formal way is to use, instead of the at home card, a mr. and mrs. card, or mrs. and miss card, with the following written in the lower left-hand corner: dancing at ten. march the second. r. s. v. p. invitations. these should be acknowledged by an acceptance, or declined, with a note of regret within one week. men. asking a woman to dance. a man asks for the privilege of a dance, either with the daughter of the hostess or with any guest of the latter or any young woman receiving with her. on being introduced to a woman, he may ask her for a dance, and he should be prompt in keeping his appointment. it is her privilege to end the dance, and, when it is ended, he should conduct her to her chaperone, or, failing that, he should find her a seat--after which he is at perfect liberty to go elsewhere. if for any cause a man has to break his engagements to dance, he should personally explain the matter to every woman with whom he has an engagement and make a suitable apology. debutante. at a debutante's reception the first partner is selected by the mother, usually the nearest and dearest friend, who dances but once, and the others follow. invitations. invitations to balls or assemblies should be answered immediately; if declined, the ticket should be returned. a man should call or leave cards a few days before the affair. supper. at balls and assemblies where small tables are provided, a man should not sit alone with his partner, but make up a party in advance, and keep together. if a patroness asks a man to sit at her table, she should provide a partner for him. at supper the senior patroness leads the way, escorted by the man honored for the occasion. if one large table is provided, the men, assisted by the waiters, serve the women. when small tables are used the patronesses generally sit by themselves, and the guests group themselves to their own satisfaction. tronesses. their duties are varied and responsible--among them, the subscription to the expenses of the entertainments. the patronesses should be divided into various committees to attend to special duties --as, music, caterers, supper arrangements, the ball-room, and all other details. while affairs of this kind could be left in the hands of those employed to carry out the details, it is better and safer for each committee to follow the various matters out to the smallest details. those devising new features and surprises for such an occasion will give the most successful ball. the one most active and having the best business ability should take the lead. lists should be compared, in order to avoid duplicate invitations. the tickets should be divided among the patronesses, who, in turn, distribute them among their friends. the patronesses should be at the ball-room in ample time before the arrival of the guests, to see that all is in readiness. they should stand together beside the entrance to welcome the guests. they should see, as far as possible, that the proper introductions are made, and that every one is enjoying the evening, their own pleasure coming last. if time permits, a hasty introduction to the patroness beside her may be made by a patroness, but it should not be done if there is the slightest possibility of blocking up the entrance. a nod of recognition here and there, or a shake of the hands with some particular friend, is all that is necessary. prolonged conversation should be avoided. a patroness should not worry over the affair, or leave anything to be done at the last minute. if she has to worry, she should not show it, lest she interfere with the pleasure of others. they should be the last to leave as well as the first to arrive, to see that the affair closes brilliantly. supper. the senior patroness leads the way to supper, escorted by the man honored for the occasion. if one large table is provided, the men, assisted by the waiters, serve the women. when small tables are used, the patronesses generally sit by themselves, and the guests group themselves to their own satisfaction. if a patroness asks a man to sit at her table, she should provide a partner for him, and in case of a previous engagement, he should notify her by mail. women. a woman should always keep any engagement made, if possible. if, for a good reason, it is desired to break one, she should do so in ample time to enable the man to secure a partner. it is bad form to refuse one partner for a dance and to accept another for the same dance afterward. after refusing to dance, a woman should lose that dance unless previously engaged. a woman may refuse to dance at a public entertainment. a young woman chaperoned should not accept a man's invitation, unless he first asks permission of her chaperone. it is not good taste to keep late hours at an informal dance. in round dances the man supports the woman with his right arm around the waist, taking care not to hold her too closely. her right hand is extended, held by his left hand, and her left hand is on his arm or shoulder, her head erect. when tired, the woman should indicate a desire to stop dancing. when the dancing ends, the woman takes her partner's arm and strolls about a few minutes. he then conducts her to her seat by her chaperone, and, after a few remarks, excuses himself. when supper is announced, and the young woman and her chaperone are in conversation with the man who danced with her last, they should accept his offer as escort if they are not already provided with one. if a woman is without escort when supper is announced, she must rely upon attendants or members of the host's family. at balls and assemblies where small tables are provided for the supper, the woman should not sit alone at a table with her partner, but she should have others present also. debutante. at a debutante's reception the first partner is selected by the mother, usually the nearest and dearest friend, who dances but once with her, and the others follow. dances (formal). host. when supper is announced, the host leads the way with his partner, followed by hostess and escort, the rest following. hostess. she should limit the number of guests to the capacity of the house. invitations should include more men than women, for some men may not attend, and of those who do come, some may not dance. an awning and carpet should be spread from curb to steps. the man stationed at the curb should open carriage doors for arriving and departing guests, distribute carriage- checks, and tell the drivers at what hour to return. the servant opening the door directs the guests to their respective dressing-rooms. a small orchestra should be provided and concealed behind palms or flowers. in the absence of polished floors, carpets should be covered with linen crash, tightly and securely laid, in order to stand the strain of dancing. friends may assist in taking care of the guests, making introductions, etc. supper. supper may be served at one large table or many small ones, as desired. dances (informal). dances of this character lack all possible formality. the invitations may be written or verbal. piano music is all that is required, played by one of the family or a professional. refreshments of a suitable nature are provided. see also chaperone. dances. dancing. introductions. the man must be introduced to the woman, and should ask her for the pleasure of a dance. men. a man should greet the host as soon as possible after seeing the hostess. at any function where patronesses are present, a man should bow to the one inviting him, and give her a few words of greeting. at balls all men should dance, and those who do not, have no place there, though invited. if a man comes alone and has no partner, he should seek hostess or assistants, and request an introduction to women who dance. after a dance a man should take a short stroll about the room with his partner before returning to her chaperone. before retiring he may converse with her in general terms, from which he should have refrained previously. a man escorting one or more women should see that they are cared for when supper is announced. a man in conversation with a woman when supper is announced, if she is not engaged, may offer to take her into supper. her chaperone should be invited at the same time. introductions should be made as much as possible before the dancing begins. if introduced to a young woman, and she is free of engagement for the next dance, the man should invite her to dance. before asking a chaperoned woman to dance, the man should ask permission of her chaperone. a man should pay especial attention to the women of the house, and invite them to dance as early as possible. a man should seek out those women who, for some reason, are neglected by selfish men, especially unmarried women, and invite them to dance. men should keep engagements a few minutes before each dance. if for some good reason it is desired to break an engagement, it should be done so as to leave ample time for the other to secure a partner for that dance. in round dances, the man supports the woman with right arm about her waist, taking care not to hold her too closely. his left hand holds her right one, both extended. the woman should indicate when she desires to stop dancing. all persons should be at a formal dance not later than half an hour after the hour set. a man should secure his carriage-check. it is safer to take wraps and coats to the house in case of accidents. gloves. gloves should be worn at formal dances, and should be put on before entering the room. shaking hands. it is not customary to shake hands at formal dances. smoking. smoking should not be allowed in the dressing-room, but a special room should be provided. men who dance should not smoke until leaving the house. women. the time for the formal dance is indicated on the invitation, and all should be there not later than half an hour after the time set. at private dances the maid takes and calls for the young woman in the absence of a male escort. young women should be chaperoned at all formal dances by their mother or others. introductions should be made as much as possible before the dancing begins. daughters. cards. the card of the eldest daughter in society is simply miss wilson, and upon her death or marriage the card of the next daughter becomes the same. where there are unmarried aunts and cousins having the father's name, only the eldest daughter of the eldest man can use the form miss wilson. if two or more sisters enter society at about the same time, their names may appear on their mother's card as the misses wilson. the name of the younger daughter should appear in full on her mother's card--as, miss mary jane wilson. until the younger daughter has formally, made her debut, she visits only intimate friends of the family. after her debut she has no card, and her full baptismal name appears on her mother's card, beneath her name, and not until a year or two after her first appearance does she have a card of her own. when a mother leaves her daughter's card, it is for the hostess only. if reception days appear on the mother's card, the daughters also receive on that day, as they have no reception date of their own. after an entertainment the cards of the family may be left for the host and hostess by the eldest daughter. the eldest daughter has her own circle of acquaintances, and can visit and receive independently of her mother. duties at balls. see balls--duties of daughters. daughter of baron--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain, madam, your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear miss wilson, and ends: believe me, i remain sincerely yours. the envelope addressed to the eldest daughter reads: to the honorable miss wilson, but to a younger daughter: to the honorable minnie wilson. daughter of duke--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable the lady jane f. wilson. a social letter begins: dear lady jane, and ends: believe me, dear lady jane, very faithfully yours. the address is: to the lady jane f. wilson. daughters of earl--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable the lady jane f. wilson. a social letter begins: dear lady jane, and ends: believe me, dear lady jane, very faithfully yours. the address is: to the lady jane f. wilson. daughter of marquis--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable the lady jane f. wilson. a social letter begins: dear lady jane, and ends: believe me, dear lady jane, very faithfully yours. the address is: to the lady jane f. wilson. daughter of viscount--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain, madam, your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear miss wilson, and ends: believe me, miss wilson, sincerely yours. the envelope addressed to the eldest daughter would read: to the honorable miss wilson, but to a younger daughter: to the honorable minnie wilson. days at home. only very intimate persons should call on any other days than those named on an at home card. day of wedding. the wedding-day is named by the bride, and her mother's approval is asked by the groom. death in the family. cards, writing-paper, and envelopes should be bordered in black. the announcement of the death may be printed or engraved, preferably the latter. full name of deceased, together with date of birth and death, and residence, should be given. the frequenting of places of amusements, entertainments, or social functions should not be indulged in for at least a year if in mourning for near relatives. condolence. after a death in the family of an acquaintance, a card with the word condolence written on it should be left in person or by messenger. for very intimate acquaintances, cut flowers may be left in person or sent, together with a card or letter, unless request has been made not to do so. debutante. a debutante should make her debut between the ages of seventeen and twenty, and should not appear at any public function before her debut. she should be thoroughly versed in the laws of good society. she should be extremely cautious at all times in her dealings with men. she should follow, without reserve, the advice of mother or chaperone. she should avoid forwardness, and be quiet in manner and in speech. men acquaintances should be carefully chosen, and great care exercised in accepting invitations from them. afternoon teas (formal). when a tea is given in honor of a debutante, she stands beside the hostess (usually her mother), and each guest is introduced to her. flowers should be liberally provided, and friends may contribute on such an occasion. a debutante should not make any formal visits alone the first year, and should not receive men visitors unless her chaperone is present. should a man call during the first season, and neither her mother nor her chaperone be present, she should decline the visit. she may make and receive visitors alone the second season. when calling upon a debutante, men and women should leave cards for her and her mother. cards. a debutante should use her mother's card with her name engraved under her mother's, but after a season she uses her own card. personal cards should not be used during the first season. if she is the eldest unmarried daughter, her name is engraved (as, miss a--) beneath her mother's name, but if there are other sisters, with the initials (as, miss a. a--). the cards of a debutante may be sent by mail or messenger. dances. a debutante always receives with her mother standing by her side. a good order is for the mother to stand nearest the door, the debutante next, and the father last. it is a good plan for the debutante to ask a few of her girl friends to stand beside her the first half hour. the mother should introduce guests to her daughter, who may introduce them to her friends. the debutante shakes hands with each one introduced to her. she dances every dance, and at the end stands beside her mother to receive the greetings of the guests. the girls standing up with the debutante after the first hour are free to dance and enjoy themselves as they please without standing in line again. men. her mother should select in advance the man who is to have the pleasure of the first dance with the debutante at her debut. no man should dance more than once with the debutante. if well acquainted with the family, a man may send flowers to a debutante at the time of her first debut. a man should make a formal call on mother and daughter a day or two after her debut, and, if unable to do so, he should send a card. debut. when her mother receives visits after her debut, the daughter is included, and should be present. the mother should keep a complete record of the visits made by entering the cards in a book kept for that purpose. flowers. friends should send flowers to a debutante at a formal tea given in her honor. men. when calling upon a debutante, a man should leave cards for her and her mother, whether the entertainment was attended or not. see also debuts. debuts. a debut may be made at a dinner, reception, or ball. the debutante's card should be enclosed with the invitation, reading: miss wilson; or, if a younger daughter, miss minnie wilson. for an "at home" debut, the least formal of all these entertainments, the name of the debutante is engraved below that of her mother. the mother and elder unmarried sisters prior to the debut should call formally upon those whom they wish to invite to the ceremony. cards of the family are left, including those of father and brothers. balls--invitations. when a young woman is to be introduced into society by a ball given in her honor, the parents may use a mr. and mrs. calling card, with the words added in writing: dancing at ten o'clock, with card of the debutante enclosed. or the parents may use a specially engraved invitation. cards, leaving. at the entertainments at a debut, as at a supper, cards should be left for the mother and daughter, and if guests are unable to be present, they should send them the day of the entertainment. entertainments. debuts may be an "at home," supper, or dinner, the latter being more formal, and only intimate friends being invited. when making her debut, the debutante should stand beside her mother in the drawing-room, near the door, and be introduced by her. on formal occasions the father stands with them. the debutante may receive flowers from intimate friends only. at homes. these are the least formal. suppers or dinners. if the debut takes the form of a supper or dinner, the brother takes in the debutante, and the father the most distinguished woman; or, if there is no brother, he takes in the debutante himself, and she is seated at his left hand. the mother is escorted by the most distinguished man. should dancing follow, the mother should select the first partner, who dances but once, when others are at liberty to follow. guests. guests should offer congratulations to a debutante at her debut in a few well-chosen words, and also to the parents. a few moments of conversation with her only is admissible. invitations. invitations are engraved, and should be sent by mail or messenger two weeks in advance, addressed to mr. and mrs. a, or mrs. b, or the misses a. while the invitations to a family may be enclosed in one envelope and sent to the principal one of the family, the son of the family should receive a separate invitation. men should receive separate invitations and acknowledge them, in person. acknowledgment is mot necessary for an "at home" debut occurring in the afternoon, but would be for a formal one in the evening, for which special engraved invitations had been sent. if invitations for an afternoon "at home" reception are accepted, cards should be left for mother and daughter. and, if not attending, cards should be sent by mail or messenger. diamond weddings. these occur after seventy- five years of married life, and naturally are of very rare occurrence. if they are celebrated, the invitation may bear the words: no presents received, and congratulations may be extended in accepting or declining the invitation. an entertainment should be provided for. any article of diamonds or precious stones is appropriate as a gift. dinners. if the circle of acquaintances is large, a series of dinners is necessary during the season. dinners should begin at an hour between seven-thirty and eight-thirty. the dining-room should be bright and attractive, well lighted, and artistically decorated with flowers. the success of a dinner lies in the selection of the guests, with regard to their congeniality to each other, and their conversational powers and varying attainments. it is better to have a few at a time, perhaps eight, as a larger number is unmanageable. calls. guests should call soon after the dinner. dress. full dress is worn by both men and women. guests. when guests are not congenial, or have dislikes, they should not show it, but appear as if the contrary were the case. guests should be prompt in arriving at the hour named. at the table it is in good taste to accept whatever is offered, eating it or not, as one desires. wines should be accepted, even if one does not partake of them. and if a toast is offered, a guest should recognize the courtesy by raising his glass. conversing across the table is permissible, provided the distance does not require the voice to be unduly raised. when coffee is served in the drawing-room, young women serve, and the men hand it to the guests. when the men re-enter the drawing-room after the coffee, the guests should retire, unless some further entertainment follows. this is usually about eleven o'clock. when leaving, a guest should thank the host and hostess, making some agreeable and appropriate remark suitable to the occasion. host. when dinner is announced, the host offers his left arm to the woman he escorts. she may be the special invited guest, or the most prominent guest present. the signal for all to rise is given by the hostess, who bows to the woman on the host's right. the men escort the women to the door or drawing-room, after which they return, and cigars and liquors are offered. the host wears full dress. guest late. the host should always come forward to shake hands with the late-comer, and help him to find his seat, and do all in his power to make his late-coming quickly overlooked. hostess. the hostess receives her guest at the parlor entrance. at table the guests should remain standing until all have found their places, when the host and hostess seat themselves, after which the others follow. the men should assist the women they escort before taking their own seats. at an informal dinner a hostess should introduce a man to the woman he is to escort to dinner, informing him whether he is to sit on the right or left hand of the host. when the dinner is announced the host with his escort leads the way, followed by the guests, and the hostess and her escort come last. guest late. the hostess should always bow and shake hands with a guest arriving late, but does not rise unless the guest is a woman. hours. dinners begin from to p.m., and usually last from one hour to an hour and a half. introductions. if a man is not acquainted with the woman assigned to him, the hostess should introduce him to the woman. invitations. these should be acknowledged immediately by a letter of acceptance, or declining with regret. the invitations are given in the name of husband and wife, and should be sent out two or four weeks in advance. r. s. v. p. is not used, and they should be answered immediately. invitations to a dinner in honor of a special guest are engraved, and state this fact. if for good reasons there is not sufficient time to engrave, an ordinary invitation may be used, and a visiting-card enclosed, upon which is written: to meet miss wilson. for ceremonious dinners, cards may be engraved, with place for guest's name left blank and filled in by hand. when frequent dinners are given, invitations may be engraved, with blanks to be filled with dates, etc. written invitations are also proper to indicate an unceremonious dinner. note sheets can be used. husband and wife. both the husband and wife should always be invited to a dinner. when a husband and wife are invited to dinner, and the former does not accept, the wife should decline, giving her reason. the hostess can then invite the wife only, who may accept. men. full dress is necessary for all except informal dinners. the man at the door, after asking the guest's name, hands him an envelope, with his name upon it, enclosing a card with the name of the woman he is to escort to dinner; or these envelopes may be in the dressing- rooms, if preferred. it will also be designated at which side of the table (right or left) a man is to sit; or a diagram of the table, with the names of the guests, should be hung in each dressing-room. the guests pair off as indicated. as soon as possible a man should seek the woman assigned to him, and inform her that he will be pleased to act as her escort, disguising any personal preference he may have otherwise. he should offer his left arm when escorting her to dinner. when the dinner is announced, the host leads the way with the woman he escorts, and the rest follow. to avoid confusion, a man should remember on which side of the table he is to sit, his place being indicated by a dinner card. if unacquainted with the woman a man is to escort to dinner, he should seek an introduction from the hostess. when the women rise to leave, the men rise and remain standing until the women leave the dining-room, or they may accompany them to the drawing-room, and then return for coffee and cigars. they should not remain longer than half an hour. leaving cards. after a dinner a man should leave a card for host and hostess, whether the invitation was accepted or not; or it may be sent by mail or messenger, with an apology for so doing. precedence. the host offers his right arm to the woman who is the guest, or the most distinguished woman, or the eldest, or the one invited for the first time. if the dinner is given in honor of a married couple, the host would take in the wife, and the husband would accompany the hostess, who comes last in the procession into the dining-room. it is a fixed rule that relatives, or husbands and wives, are never seated together. if possible, there should be an equal number of men and women, and if the latter outnumber the former, the hostess enters alone. second helping. at formal dinner parties, luncheons, and breakfasts, second helpings are never offered by the host or hostess, and should not be asked for by the guests. this is only permissible at a small dinner party or at the daily family meal. of course, this does not apply to a second glass of water for which the guest might ask, or for wine, for which the butler should keep a good lookout. table etiquette. see table etiquette. women. when wraps have been removed, and the woman leaves the dressing-room, the escort chosen by the hostess approaches and makes known the fact, accompanying her to the table. if the escort is not thoroughly agreeable to the woman, she should conceal the fact. at the conclusion of a dinner the hostess rises and the women follow, leaving their napkins unfolded. they retire to the drawing-room, while the men remain for coffee and cigars. if the men prefer, they may escort them to the drawing-room, where they bow and return. gloves. women may remove their gloves at table, and it is not necessary to replace them. they should be laid in the lap. the hostess generally determines whether the women should resume their gloves or not by her own actions. full dress is worn. given by men--women. a young woman may accept a man's invitation, provided she has the consent of her mother or guardian, and is assured that there will be present a chaperone. given by bachelors. see bachelors' dinners. dinner dance. invitations. the hostess issues two sets of invitations--one for those invited to both the dinner and the dance, and one for those invited to the dance only. for the former she could use her usual engraved dinner cards with the words: dancing at eleven, and for the latter her usual engraved at home cards with the words: dancing at eleven. a less formal way for the latter invitation is to use the mr. and mrs. card or mrs. and miss card, and to write on it in the lower left hand corner: dancing at ten, february the tenth. doctor--how addressed. a doctor or physician should be addressed as dr. both by correspondence and in conversation. this title of dr. must not be confounded with the honorary degree of doctor of divinity, conferred upon clergymen by educational institutions, and the degree of doctor of philosophy, conferred upon college professors after certain conditions of study have been complied with. dowager duchess. see duchess, dowager. dowager marchioness. see marchioness, dowager. dress. afternoon. see afternoon--dress. afternoon teas. see afternoon teas--dress. at homes. see at homes--dress. bachelors' dinners. see bachelor's dinners-- dress. bachelors' teas. see bachelor's teas--dress. balls. see balls--dress. breakfasts. see breakfasts--dress. christenings. see christening--dress. cotillions. see cotillions--dress. cotillions by subscriptions. see cotillions by subscriptions--dress. dances. see dances--dress. dinners. see dinners--dress. evening. see evening dress. garden parties. see garden parties--dress. high teas. see high teas--dress. house parties. see house parties--dress. luncheons. see luncheons--dress. matinees. see matinees--dress. musicales. see musicales--dress. theatres. see theatres--dress. weddings. see weddings--dress. dress--men and women. for particulars as to dress at different functions, see each entertainment --as, balls, dinners, at homes, theatres, breakfasts, etc. dress--women. bride. see bride--dress. bridesmaids. see bridesmaids--dress. calls. see calls--women--dress. funerals. see funerals--women--dress. maid of honor. see maid of honor--dress. mourning. see mourning--dress, women. dressing-rooms. at all entertainments, dressing-rooms should be provided for both the men and for the women, with suitable attendants, where all outer wraps, coats, over- shoes, etc., should be left. driving men. when driving with a woman, a man should be careful that the carriage is well drawn up to the steps, and that she be given time in which to comfortably seat herself before he begins to drive. a man when driving with a woman should refrain from asking her permission to smoke, and, of course, would never do so without her permission. he should be careful to lift his hat as if he were on the street, and if this is not possible, to touch it with the whip in place of a bow. the host of a coaching party, if he is also the whip, would give the chaperone the seat on the box at the left of his, unless he wished that seat to be occupied by some special young woman. the person occupying this seat should always be helped by the host to climb to her place. it is customary when the coach is a high one to seat a woman between two men, and they would ascend and descend in the order in which they were seated. even if the woman asks a man to drive with her, he should help her to her seat, and be ready to step down when a halt is made to assist her to alight. it is not customary when a woman has asked a man to drive with her for her to call for him at his club or home, but to meet him at her house. dress. the whip wears a gray suit with a gray high hat and gray gloves, with a white silk tie and white linen. but in summer this costume is often made lighter and more comfortable to suit the weather, and a straw hat or panama, with flannel trousers and dark serge sacque coat, would be in good taste. there are no hard and fast rules governing the dress of men when driving. women. the etiquette in general is the same for a woman as for a man. when a woman asks a man or a male relative to drive with her, she does not call for him, but meets him at her door. even if a groom is present, he should help her to mount to her seat, and at the proper time descend before her and help her to alight. duchess--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, may it please your grace, and ends: i have the honor to remain your grace's obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear duchess of kent, and ends: believe me, dear duchess, yours very truly. the address on the envelope is: to her grace, the duchess of kent. duchess, dowager--how addressed. an official letter begins: may it please your grace, and ends: i have the honor to remain your grace's obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear duchess of kent, and ends: believe me, dear duchess, yours very truly. the address on the envelope is: to her grace, the dowager duchess of kent, or, to her grace, minnie, duchess of kent. duke--how addressed. an official letter begins: my lord duke, may it please your grace, and ends: i have the honor to be your grace's most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear duke of kent, and ends: believe me, dear duke, your grace's very faithfully. the address on the envelope is: to his grace, the duke of kent. daughter of. see daughter of duke. wife of younger son of. see wife of younger son of duke. younger son of. see son (younger) of duke. earl--how addressed. an official letter begins: my lord, and ends: i have the honor to be your lordship's obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable the earl of kent. a social letter begins: dear lord kent, and ends: believe me my dear lord kent, very sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the earl of kent daughter of. see daughter of earl. wife of younger son. see wife of younger son of earl. younger son of. see son (younger) of earl. eggs are usually broken into a glass and eaten with a spoon. elevator. men should remove their hats when riding in an elevator with women, although it is held by some that an elevator is as much a public conveyance as a car, and this act of courtesy as unnecessary in the one place as in the other. women enter and leave before men. engagement. men it is his duty to see the woman's parents or guardian, and to make known his intentions, and to tell them fully and frankly about himself, his family, his social position, and business prospects. he should court the fullest investigation, and take his own family into his confidence, but not mention it to others. parents of man. they should send their pleasant greetings and congratulations, accompanied with flowers, and if both families are old acquaintances, a present may be sent to the prospective bride. parents of woman. the first step is to bring together both parents in social intercourse-- as, by a dinner given by the man's or woman's family, when friends may be invited, by interchange of notes and congratulations, by any social visit, or by any function that good taste may dictate. if one family lives out of town, it may invite various members of the other family living in the city to make visits of some duration, as a week or more. these visits should be returned. public announcement. this item of news is rarely published in the papers, but if it is, the expense is borne by the family of the woman. the public announcement is usually made at some social entertainment--as, a dinner, tea, or an "at home," given by either family. at a formal dinner given by the family of the woman, the father takes out his daughter first and her fiance escorts her mother. at the proper time the father drinks his future son-in-law's health and announces the engagement. all rise, and congratulations follow. notes may be written to intimate friends informing them of the happy event. women. a woman should at once confide in her parents, and trust to their future guidance and to their making a full investigation of the man, his social condition, and business prospects. they should not mention the matter to others. immediately after the engagement, each of the two parties should be introduced to the family of the other party. before the wedding-cards are issued the woman should leave her card personally at the homes of her friends, but without entering. after the wedding-cards are issued she should not appear at any social function, or make any personal visits, or be seen at any place of amusement. it is not wise for her to call at the place of business of her fiance, and if a meeting is necessary, it is better to make an appointment elsewhere. ring. the ring is given by the man immediately after the announcement of the engagement to the woman, who wears it on the third finger of her left hand. it should be a small and unostentatious one. diamonds, rubies, moonstones, sapphires, and other precious stones may be used. he may ask the woman to aid him in the selection, but it is better for him to make the selection alone. the woman may give the man an engagement ring or a gift if she wishes. entertainments--calls after. see calls--men--after entertainments. envelopes, addressing. see addressing envelopes. esquire. either esq. or mr. may be used in addressing a letter, but never the two at the same time. evening calls. when no special day for receiving is indicated, calls may be made at any proper hour, according to the custom of the locality. men of leisure may call at the fashionable hours, from two till five o'clock in the afternoon, while business and professional men may call between eight and nine in the evening, as their obligations prevent them from observing the fashionable hours. evening dress. men. evening dress should be worn on all formal occasions, consisting of the swallow- tail coat of black material, made in the prevailing fashion, with waistcoat and trousers of the same material; or a white vest may be worn. the linen must be white. studs or shirt- buttons may be worn, according to fashion. the collar should be high, and the cravat white. low patent-leather shoes and white kid gloves complete the costume. evening dress should be worn at all formal functions after six o'clock--as, balls, dinners, suppers, receptions, germans, formal stag parties, theatre, opera, and fashionable evening calls where women are present. the phrase, "evening dress," is now used in place of full dress. a tuxedo should never be worn when women are present. see also tuxedo. clergyman--evening dress. weddings, evening. full evening dress is worn by the groom and ushers. guests are likewise in evening dress. clergyman. custom permits a clergyman to wear his clerical dress at all functions where other men wear evening dress, or he may wear evening dress. evening receptions. the etiquette is the same as for an afternoon tea (formal), save that no cards are left by the guests, and that they wear evening dress. see afternoon teas (formal). facsimile cards, engraved, are no longer used. family of bride. the family, except the father, leave the house first, then the bridesmaids, the maid of honor with the mother, and last the bride with her father or nearest male relative. at church the family is seated by the ushers. at the conclusion of the ceremony they are the first to be escorted from their pew and to take their carriage for the wedding reception or breakfast. wedding breakfast. the bride's father or her nearest male relative takes in the groom's mother, and the bride's mother, as hostess, is taken in by the groom's father. wedding reception. the parents of both bride and groom stand up with the married couple, and are introduced to the guests. family of groom. at the church the family and relatives of the groom are seated on one side, while the family of the bride and her relatives are seated on the other. wedding breakfast. the groom's mother is taken in by the bride's father, and the groom's father takes in the bride's mother, who, acting as hostess, comes last. wedding reception. the parents of both bride and groom stand up with the married couple, and are introduced to the guests. farewell bachelor dinner. see bachelor's farewell dinners. farewell bridal luncheon. see bride--farewell luncheon. father of bride. debuts. when the debut is a formal one, he stands beside his wife and daughter, and receives the congratulations of the guests. at a supper or dinner he escorts the most distinguished woman. if there is no brother to escort the debutante, he does so, and she is seated at his left hand. dinner, engagement. at a formal dinner given by the family of the engaged woman the father takes out his daughter first and her fiance escorts her mother. at the proper time the father drinks to the health of his future son-in-law, and announces the engagement. all rise, and congratulations follow. he wears evening dress. the father of the bride, or her nearest male relative, drives to the church with her, and is there received by the ushers and bridesmaids, and escorts her in the procession up the aisle. after the procession has arrived at the chancel and the groom comes forward to take the bride's hand, he steps back a little way and waits for the clergyman's words: "who giveth this woman away?" he then places the bride's right hand in that of the clergyman, and retires to his seat in the pew with his family. wedding breakfast. he takes in the mother of the groom, following the ushers and the maids of honor. wedding reception. he escorts the groom's mother, and receives with the married couple. father of groom. at a wedding breakfast he should take in the mother of the bride, and at a wedding reception he receives with the bride and groom. at a church wedding he is, of course, given a front seat among those reserved for the groom's family. he should wear afternoon dress for an afternoon wedding, and evening dress at an evening wedding. fees. christening. see christening--fees wedding. the wedding fee, preferably gold or clean bills in sealed envelope, is given by the best man to the officiating clergyman. custom leaves the amount to the groom, who should give at least five dollars or more, in proportion to his income and social position. the clergyman usually gives the fee to his wife. a fee should also be paid to the sexton and the organist fiance, mourning for. in the event of the death of a woman's betrothed shortly before the date of the wedding, she may wear black for a short period or full mourning for a year. finger-bowl. the fingers should be dipped in the water and gently rubbed together, and dried on the napkins. first calls. newcomers and brides are called upon first. after a country visit, the visitor should call first upon the hostess when the latter returns to town. other things being equal, the younger or unmarried woman calls first upon the older or married woman. a woman returning to town before another one would make the first call. if one woman issues her at home card before another, she should receive the first call. fish should be eaten with a fork held in the right hand and a piece of bread held in the left hand. the bones should be removed from the mouth with the aid of a fork or with the fingers. if by the latter, great delicacy should be used. flower girl. the flower girls--one or two, as may be the case--follow the maid of honor up the isle and strew flowers in the path of the bride, who follows after. in the procession down the isle they should follow the bride. flower girls and pages are not used now as much as formerly. flowers. between friends, flowers may be sent as an expression of sympathy in either joy or sorrow. birth, announcement of. if wishing to send congratulations after a birth, cards should be left in person or sent by a messenger. cut flowers may be sent with the card. bride. if she wishes, a bride may present flowers to her bridesmaids, and also to the best man and ushers. christening. a christening ceremony offers a good opportunity for the guests who desire to present flowers to the mother. this is not obligatory, however, and must remain a matter of personal taste. condolence calls. when making a condolence call upon a very intimate friend, cut flowers may be left in person or sent, together with a card, unless request has been made to send none. debutante. friends should send flowers to a debutante at a formal tea given in her honor. engagement. flowers should accompany the greetings from the parents of the man to the parents of the woman. funerals. see funerals--flowers. groom. he pays for the bridal bouquet carried by the bride at the wedding ceremony, and, if he wishes, for the bouquets carried by the bridesmaids. men. if well acquainted with a debutante's family, a man may send her flowers at the time of her debut. after a slightly intimate acquaintance, a man can present flowers to a young unmarried woman as a token of sympathy either of joy or sorrow. it is not usual for a man to send flowers to a woman who is a mere acquaintance. balls. it is permissible for a man, if he wishes, to send flowers to a woman he is to escort to a ball. theatre or opera. it is permissible, but not necessary, for a man to send flowers to the woman he is to take to the theatre or to the opera. wedding trip. the best man should arrange beforehand all the details of the trip--such as the tickets, parlor-car, flowers, baggage, etc. pall-bearers. see pall-bearers--flowers. fork and knife. see knife and fork. formal afternoon teas. see afternoon teas (formal). formal dances. see dances (formal). fruit. all raw fruit, except melons, berries, and grapefruit, are eaten with the fingers. canned fruits are eaten with a spoon. full dress. this phrase is now no longer in good usage, and instead should be used the term: "evening dress," which see. funerals. a member of the family, or very near relative, should take charge of the ceremony and direct the undertaker. a large funeral should be avoided, and the ceremony confined to the immediate family and nearest relatives, and, if possible, the service should be at the church. all the details of the funeral should be carefully considered and carried out, with the ceremony started at the hour set, and with all appearance of confusion avoided. it is not now customary to watch by the dead at night. funerals should be private, and only those intimately interested should be invited. carriages. a carriage should always be provided to call for the clergyman and to take him from the church or cemetery back to his house. carriages should also be provided to take the friends, mourners, and pall-bearers from the house to the church, and then to the cemetery and return. these are provided by the family. dress. see funerals--men. expenses. though it is not customary for the clergyman in protestant churches to expect or to receive fees for conducting funerals, yet it is in perfectly good taste to offer him a fee. in the roman catholic church the rate of fees for funerals is fixed. there are, besides, fees for the sexton, the organist, and the singers. flowers. the family, in publishing notice of funeral, may add: "kindly omit flowers." however, in the absence of such a notice, at the public funerals of prominent persons elaborate designs may be sent. but at a private funeral, if flowers are sent, they should be choice and delicate. the custom is growing of having fewer flowers, and it is no longer in good taste to have a carriage in the procession carrying flowers and set pieces. a good use of the large set pieces is to send them afterward to the hospitals. if any flowers are laid upon the grave they should be those given by the nearest relatives. invitations. a church funeral can be attended by any one, friend or acquaintance, and no slight should be felt at the non-receipt of an invitation. those attending should take especial pains to be in the church before the funeral procession arrives, and that they do nothing to distract from the solemnity of the occasion. notice of death and date of funeral may be printed on heavy bordered cards, or on mourning paper, and sent to friends. sometimes a notice is written and sent to most intimate friends. men--dress. a man should wear either a black frock coat or a black cutaway, with the necktie, gloves, and other parts of the dress as subdued as possible. under no conditions should light ties or light-colored linen be worn. pall-bearers. see pall-bearers. precedence. at a church funeral the parents, arm in arm, follow the body of their child, and the children come next in the order of their age. a widow, leaning on the arm of her eldest son, follows the body of her husband, and the other children come after. a widower, attended by his eldest daughter or son, follows the body of his wife, and the children come after. the elder children always precede the younger. the pall-bearers are seated at the left of the main isle, and the near relatives at the right. public notice. when the date of the funeral has been determined upon, notice should be published in the papers, giving date, place, and time of funeral--also date of birth and late place of residence of deceased. such announcement may contain notice that the interment is private, and also the words: "kindly omit flowers." a notice of death and date of funeral may be printed on heavy bordered cards or mourning paper, and sent to friends. sometimes a notice is written and sent to most intimate friends. church. the pall-bearers and the nearest relatives meet at the house. at the appointed hour the procession leaves the house, the casket borne on the shoulders of the undertaker's assistants, followed by the pall-bearers, relatives, and friends. the same order is followed in the procession up the aisle, the relatives occupying the first pews on the right, the pall-bearers the first pews on the left, of the middle aisle. at the conclusion of the ceremony the friends wait until the family and pall-bearers have left, and then quietly retire. house. at a house funeral, some one representing the family should receive the people as they enter and direct them where to go, it being customary for the family and relatives to be in one room and the friends in another. usually there are no pall-bearers; but if there are, their duties are the same as at a church funeral. the clergyman should stand near the casket, and if there are musicians they should be so stationed that, while they are not seen, they are easily heard. at the conclusion of the ceremony the friends depart, and thus allow the family and relatives to take the last leave of the deceased before they take the carriages for the cemetery. it is customary for the family to be in retirement at the hour of the funeral, and they are the first to enter the carriages. those in charge of the house should, after the funeral party has left, arrange the apartments to make them as cheerful as possible, and also provide a substantial meal for the mourners on their return. garden parties. cards. guests leave their cards in the hall either when entering or leaving only at large garden parties. dress. it is customary for women to wear light afternoon dresses. men wear summer business suits, yachting flannels, and straw hats, and even white duck trousers. gloves are not worn. the regulation frock coat and high hat is not worn, save by men from the city or at some extremely fashionable affair. guests. after leaving their outer garments in the dressing-rooms, the guests should pay their respects to the hostess, after which they are free to enjoy themselves as they please. the usual length of stay is about half an hour or the whole afternoon. while guests may arrive at their own convenient time, they would do well to remember that they have not the same freedom to come and go as at an afternoon reception. guests should take leave of the hostess unless she is very much engaged. hostess. the hostess wears afternoon dress, and usually one that is dainty and delicate-- suitable for a summer afternoon. she receives on the lawn, shakes hands with each guest, and makes introductions when deemed essential. she may, if she so desires, receive with some member of her family. hours. these are from to p.m. invitations. these are issued in the name of the hostess, and may be engraved or written. sometimes the hostess writes on her card: garden party, july , from to , or she may use an at home card, and in the lower left-hand corner write: garden party. the engraved card usually indicates an elaborate affair. these invitations may be sent by mail or messenger. it is a good plan to add to the invitations some information regarding the trains, or to enclose a time-table. all such invitations should be promptly acknowledged or declined. men. men wear summer business suits, white ducks, or yachting flannels, a tennis suit would be permissible. the regulation frock coat and high hat should be worn only by men from the city attending an affair in the country, or at some extremely fashionable affair. men should greet the hostess both on their arrival and departure. visiting-cards are left only at large garden parties. women. women wear light, delicate, afternoon dresses. they should greet the hostess, both on their arrival and departure. visiting-cards are left only at large and formal outdoor affairs. germans. see cotillions. gifts. after house party. while not necessary, a guest after a house party may send some trifle to the hostess as a token of pleasure and appreciation. best man. after the groom selects the best man, the latter should send a gift to the bride, and may, if he wish, send it to the groom, a custom not yet clearly established. christening. a christening ceremony offers a good opportunity for the invited guests so wishing to send a gift to the baby. these should be sent a day or two before the ceremony, and, if of silver, should be suitably marked with the child's name, initials, or monogram. engagement. if both families of the engaged couple are old acquaintances, the parents of the man may send a gift along with their greetings and congratulations. wedding. see weddings--gifts. gifts between men and women. books, flowers, and other small articles of decoration are proper gifts to accept. sending valuable gifts of jewelry, or any other article, depends largely upon the relationships of the parties, and should not be done unless the sender is sure of its acceptance. such gifts should not be accepted from mere acquaintances or friends. it is bad form for a man to send expensive presents to a woman who may be compelled to return them. gloves. men. at the opera or theatre, if in full dress, gloves may be dispensed with, but they are worn with street dress. with formal evening dress, white kid gloves should be worn. for afternoon dress, gloves should be of undressed kid, gray, tan, or brown. when calling, the glove of the right hand should be removed upon entering the drawing-room. gloves should not be worn at high teas. men--afternoon dress. undressed kid gloves of a dark color are worn. men-balls. men should always wear gloves at all balls, in summer or winter, in town or city. men-calling on women. gloves need not be removed at a formal or brief call. men-dances. gloves should be worn at formal dances, and should be put on before entering the room. men-high tea. men do not wear gloves. men-mourning. black or dark-colored gloves should be worn. men--shaking hands. at weddings, operas, or dances, and on all very formal occasions, men wear gloves. in shaking hands with women on these occasions gloves should not be removed. if a hostess wears gloves at any formal affair, a man wears his when he shakes hands with her. a man with hands gloved should never shake hands with a woman without an apology for so doing, unless she likewise wears gloves. a sudden meeting, etc., may make a hand-shaking in gloves unavoidable. unless the other party is also gloved, a man should say: "please excuse my glove." women. gloves should always be worn on the street. at dinners, or formal teas, women should remove their gloves at the table and place them in their laps. at dinners and formal teas, when the women have retired to the drawing-room, they may resume their gloves or not, or follow the example of the hostess. at informal teas or "at homes" the hostess need not wear gloves. breakfast. gloves should be removed at table. dinner. women may remove their gloves at table, and it is not necessary to replace them. they should be laid in the lap. the hostess generally determines by her own actions whether the women should resume gloves or not. mourning. gloves may be of black kid, suede, or black silk. in the evening, black suede or glace, or white suede should be worn. white gloves with black stitching should not be worn in the evening. bride. see bride--gloves. groom. see groom--gloves. ushers. see ushers--gloves. godfather. a man asked to be one of the sponsors at a christening ceremony should reply by a written note or by calling in person. he should call immediately on the parents and send flowers to the mother, and express himself as pleased at the compliment. he should send a present to the child, usually a piece of jewelry or some silver, and, if a wealthy relative, may deposit a sum of money to the child's credit, and present him with the bank-book. he should also send with his present one of his calling cards, on which is written some appropriate sentiment. it is his privilege, when the wine is about to be drunk after the ceremony, to first propose the health of the child and then the health of the mother. the duties of the godfather at the ceremony consist of assenting to the vows. godmother. a woman asked to be a sponsor at a christening should immediately accept or decline the invitation either by a written note or a call. she should also call on the parents and send flowers to the mother, and express pleasure at the compliment paid to her. it is always customary for the godmother to give the child a gift, such as a christening robe, a cradle, or some piece of silver. if the latter is sent, it should have the child's name on it. with the gift should be sent the sponsor's calling card, with some appropriate sentiment on it. it is customary to send the gift to the child itself. golden weddings. fifty years after the wedding-day comes the golden wedding. the invitations may bear the words: no presents received, and congratulations may be extended in accepting or declining the invitation. an entertainment is usually provided for. the gifts are, appropriately, articles of gold, and this is a fitting occasion for giving fifty gold pieces of either, five, ten, or twenty dollar denomination. the invitations are appropriately engraved in gold, and the decorations golden in color. governor of a state--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have the honor, sir, to remain your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear governor wilson, and ends: believe me, most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: governor john j. wilson. grapes and plums should be eaten one by one, and the pits allowed to fall noiselessly into the half-closed hand and then transferred to the plate. groom. the groom selects his best man, usually an unmarried intimate friend, though a married man or widower is permissible. after consultation with the bride he calls upon the clergyman, the organist, the sexton, and invites the ushers. when he is informed by his bride of the day selected for the wedding, he should ask her mother to accept the day agreed upon. he may make what present he desires to the bride, and, if he also wishes, to the brides- maids. if any gifts are sent to the groom, they should bear his name or cipher. he should furnish the bride's family with a list of names of persons to whom he desires to have invitations sent, designating his preference for those to be asked to the wedding breakfast or reception. before ceremony. the day before the ceremony, or sooner, he gives into the safe- keeping of the best man the ring and the fee for the clergyman. he also sends or hands the marriage license (if one is needed) to the officiating clergyman before the ceremony. church, it is not customary for the groom to see his bride on the wedding-day till he meets her at the altar. the groom and the best man usually breakfast together on the wedding-day and arrive in ample time at the church. upon the arrival of the bride in the vestibule, the clergyman enters the chancel, followed by the groom and the best man. the groom then steps forward, and stands at the left of the clergyman, facing the audience. it is a good plan for both the groom and best man to leave their hats in the vestry, but if the groom has not done so, he gives his hat and gloves to the best man on the approach of the bride, and advances to meet her. he gives her his left arm, and together they stand before the clergyman. at the proper moment he receives the ring from the best man and hands it to the bride. it is no longer in good form for him to kiss the bride after the ceremony, but after receiving the congratulations of the clergyman to give her his right arm, and together they lead the procession to the vestibule. clergyman. while the bride selects the officiating clergyman, it is the place of the groom to call upon him in regard to the details, and to pay him the fee. if the clergyman from any cause--as, living outside of the state--cannot legally perform the ceremony, a magistrate should be present to legalize the marriage, and should receive a fee. dress-evening wedding. he wears full evening dress. dress-morning or afternoon wedding. he wears afternoon dress, consisting of a double-breasted frock coat of dark material, waistcoat, single or double (preferably the latter), of same material, or more usually of some fancy material of late design. the trousers should be of light pattern, avoiding extremes. the linen should be white, and the tie white or light material, and the gloves of gray suede. these, with patent-leather shoes and a silk hat, complete the costume. expenses. he pays for the license fee, the organist's fee, and a fee to the sexton. nothing less than five dollars in gold, clean bills, or a check in a sealed envelope, or more, according to social position and financial income, should be the clergyman's fee. should there be one or two additional clergymen, he pays a fee to each, the fee of the officiating clergyman being double that of the others. he pays for the carriages of the ushers, the one for himself and the best man, and the one which takes away the married couple on their wedding trip. he pays for the bouquet carried by the bride, and, if he wishes, for the bouquets carried by the bridesmaids. he also pays for the cuff-buttons or scarf-pins, and, if he wishes, for the gloves and neckties given to the ushers and the best man. he pays for the wedding-ring--a plain gold one, with initials of bride and groom and date of marriage engraved thereon. he may also present some souvenirs to the bridesmaids. he may give a farewell dinner a few evenings before the wedding to his best man, ushers, and a few intimate friends. he sits at the head of the table and the best man opposite, and on this occasion he may give the scarf-pins or cuff-buttons, also neckties and gloves, if he wishes, to the best man and ushers. farewell dinner. see bachelor's farewell dinner. gloves. at a morning or afternoon wedding, the groom wears gray suede gloves. at an evening wedding he wears white kid gloves. wedding breakfast. the bride and groom enter first, and are seated at the principal table. wedding reception. the groom and his bride stand side by side and receive the congratulations of all present. the guests serve them refreshments. see also best man. bride. ushers. all items under weddings. groom's family. see family of groom. groom's father. see father of groom. groom's mother. see mother of groom. guests. guest of honor at balls, if the ball is given in honor of some special person, he should be met on his arrival, introduced to the women of the reception committee, escorted to the seat prepared for him, and be attended to the whole evening by the management of the ball. at the end of the ball, he should be escorted to his carriage. late at dinners. when a guest arrives late he should make a short and suitable apology to the hostess, and then take his seat as quickly and as quietly as possible. the hostess shakes hands with the guest, but does not rise unless the guest is a woman. the host should in either case rise and meet the guest, and assist him in finding his seat, and endeavor, by making the conversation general, to distract attention from the event. for duties of guests, see other functions-- as, balls--guests, christenings--guests, etc. hand-shaking--introductions. women and men on being introduced may shake hands, but it is not good form. a polite bow, a smile, and friendly recognition is more correct. if an advance is made by either party, it should be immediately accepted. hat. men--calling. when making a formal or brief call, the hat should be carried in the hand into the parlor. in apologizing to a woman, opening a door, or rendering any service to a woman in public, or in answering a question, the hat should be raised. when seeing a woman to her carriage, he should raise his hat upon closing the carriage door. when attentions are offered by another man to a woman whom he is escorting, a man raises his hat in acknowledgment of the courtesy and thanks the party. in a street-car a man raises his hat when giving his seat to a woman. on the railroad a man removes his hat in the parlor-car, but not in the day coach. in an elevator a man should remove his hat in the presence of women. in hotels where corridors are reserved and used as places of meeting and recreation by the guests, no hats should be worn. standing uncovered when talking to a woman on the street is generally embarrassing to her, and it is better to make a polite bow and replace it after a few seconds. mourning. a crape band around the hat should be worn--the width of the band being determined by the character of the bereavement. high tea. this is an elaborate entertainment, and an elaborate menu is generally served. calls. calls should be made in person one week after the event. guests. guests wear evening dress, and should not remain more than half an hour. invitations. these are engraved, and the hour for the entertainment specified. they should be issued in the name of the hostess only, except in such cases when the entertainment is the occasion of a debut or another woman assists, in which event her name appears likewise. the invitations should be promptly accepted or declined. men. full dress is worn, but men do not wear gloves. women. full dress is worn. home weddings. weddings at the homes of the brides vary much, according to the taste of the participants. the ushers, bridesmaids, best man, and maid of honor are generally dispensed with; but if present, their duties are the same as at a church wedding, with minor differences. the clergyman stands in a large room decorated with flowers, facing the audience, with the groom beside him. the bride enters on the arm of her father, followed by the bridesmaids and ushers, and the ceremony proceeds as at a church, with the usual congratulations to the groom and best wishes to the bride. refreshments are served, either formal or informal. at an afternoon ceremony men wear the regulation afternoon dress, and if in the evening, the usual evening dress. honeymoon, see wedding trip. honor, seat of. the seat of honor is at the right of the host. host. afternoon teas. see afternoon teas--host. bachelors' dinners. see bachelors' dinners-- host. bachelors' teas. see bachelors' teas--host. balls. see balls--host. dances. see dances (formal)--host. dinners. see dinners--host. matinees. see matinees--host. theatres. see theatre and opera parties given by men. hostess. introductions. introductions to the hostess at an "at home" or reception by women assisting hostess, to those who have been invited to the entertainment by them, are not recognized thereafter unless by mutual consent. the hostess receiving in her own home should offer her hand to all to whom she is introduced. the hostess introduces her immediate family to all her guests. no formal permission is necessary. in the case of one woman desiring an introduction to another, the hostess should be asked to bring this about. introductions by chaperones. at entertainments both the chaperone and her protege should enter together, and the chaperone should introduce her protege to the hostess. women calling upon. when calling formally upon a hostess, a woman should leave a card, whether the hostess was at home or not. when a son enters society, his mother, when calling, can leave his cards for him, and invitations to entertainments will follow. if it is impossible for him to leave cards for himself she may continue to do so. women leaving cards on. when a mother leaves her daughter's card, it is for the hostess only. high teas. see high teas--hostess. house parties. see house parties--hostess. luncheons. see luncheons--hostess. matinees. see matinees--hostess. shaking hands. see shaking hands--host. weddings. see mother of bride. hours. afternoon teas. see afternoon teas--hours. breakfasts. see breakfasts--hours. calls. see calls--hours. dinners. see dinners--hours. garden parties. see garden parties--hours. luncheons. see luncheons--hours. musicales. see musicales--hours. receptions. see receptions--hours. weddings. see weddings--hours. house funerals. see funerals--house. house parties. these usually refer to a group of congenial persons, numbering from four to twenty-four, and visiting country homes, making a stay of a few days or a few weeks. dress. the length of the visit and the nature of the house party determines the extent of wardrobe necessary. a guest should carry at least three changes of suits--one for the morning, one suitable for afternoon entertainments, picnics, etc., and the regulation evening dress. guest. to be a welcome guest the visitor should accommodate himself as much as possible to the plans of his hostess and the ways of the home life. a visitor should avoid the common mistake of refusing to make a choice when a choice is offered. a guest should try to be congenial with the other guests, kind to the servants, and to be considerate of all others. expenses. the hostess should furnish transportation for both guests and baggage to and from the station. each guest should pay for all expenses incurred by him, and be especially careful, in the case of sickness or misfortune, that some items are not overlooked. letter after departure. if the visit has been more than two days, the guest should write a short letter to the hostess, telling of the pleasure the visit gave them and their safe journey home. a guest so desiring might send some trifle as a gift to the hostess. tipping servants. unless a hostess positively requests her guests not to tip, a guest, when leaving at the end of a visit at a private house, should remember the servants. the average american, from lack of a definite standard, too often errs on the side of giving too much. those giving personal service should be remembered, as well as those who render service-- as, the coachman and outside servants. hostess. while careful to provide entertainment for her guests, a hostess should be careful not to overentertain, and to allow each guest ample time in which to enjoy themselves any way they please. if an entertainment is planned for the afternoon, it is well to leave the mornings open, and vice versa. the success of the hostess depends on her making the guests feel free from care and ennui. caring for the sick. in addition to the regular care of the guest's room and attention to his comfort and pleasure, a hostess should double her energies in case her guest is sick. she is not called upon to pay for the expenses of telegrams, doctor's bills, medicines, etc., contracted by the guest. if a guest departed without attending to these matters, the hostess would have to pay for them. giving farewell, to visitors. a hostess should, in bidding farewell to her visitors, see that she does not overdo it. while it is not strictly necessary that a hostess should accompany a guest to the depot, yet many still follow this rule, especially in the case of an unmarried woman, and are careful to see to all the details of checking baggage, etc. in the case of a bachelor, such attention is not necessary. a hostess conveys at her own expense both the guest and baggage to and from the station. greeting visitors. when an hour of arrival is specified in an invitation, the guest should be met at the station, especially an unmarried woman, by the hostess or host. in case of married couples or bachelors, a man servant may meet them. in all cases the hostess should arrange for the conveyance of both the guests and their luggage. a hostess accompanies a woman to the guest chamber, but sends a man servant with a bachelor to the latter's room. invitations. these should state definitely when a visit is to begin and to end. it is also a good plan to allude in the invitation to any special amusement or entertainment. these invitations should be answered promptly. men--dress. a man should carry with him one business suit, evening clothes, and one outing suit suitable for afternoon entertainments --as, picnics, tennis, etc. this is almost indispensable, and more depends upon the nature of the entertainments and the length of the visit. women--dress. a woman should take at least three changes of dress--one to travel in and wear in the morning, one for evening wear, and a third for afternoon picnics, outings, etc. the length of her visit and the nature of the entertainments and her individual taste determines how much she may increase this. house of representatives, member of. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mr. wilson and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: hon. john f. wilson. husband and wife--cards, visiting. see cards, visiting-husband and wife. in memoriam cards. printed or engraved notes, or special cards, can be used, and should be heavily bordered. custom allows much diversity as to the contents of the card. place and date of birth, residence, date of death, and any other information of interest to friends and relatives may be given. infant's cards. the full name of the child should be engraved, with date of birth in lower left-hand corner, enclosed in envelope with mother's card, and sent by mail. such cards are generally held together with white ribbon. informal afternoon teas. these are the usual afternoon teas. by formal afternoon teas are meant those for which specially engraved cards have been issued, and at which all the arrangements are more elaborate. see afternoon teas. interior, secretary of--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mr. wilson, and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: hon. john j. wilson, secretary of the interior. introductions. one should be careful in making introductions. it is easier to evade than to cause disagreeable complications. it is unpardonable to introduce one party to another after having been warned not to do so. forgetting a person's name when about to introduce is awkward, and when it does occur, one should apologize and ask name. if a person fails to hear the name, it is proper to inform the one to whom you are introduced and to say: "pardon me, but i failed to hear your name." in making introductions one should distinctly pronounce the names. parents should not speak of or introduce their children as miss anna, but simply my daughter anna. only before servants should they be spoken of as miss anna. persons of celebrity should have introductions made to them. men should always be introduced to women, the younger to an elder person, and unmarried persons to the married. persons at an entertainment are introduced to the guest of the occasion. women and men on being introduced may shake hands, but it is not good form. a polite bow, a smile, and friendly recognition is more correct. those invited to an entertainment are on equal footing; it is therefore not necessary to introduce one to another. conversation may be held without this formality, though introductions may take place if desired. when an introduction occurs, future recognition is not warranted. for this reason great care should be exercised at entertainments that only those who are congenial to each other should be brought together. at small gatherings it is more kindly to introduce. when many are present, it is not customary to do so. introductions should not take place in a church or on the steps. it is quite proper to introduce one group to another without formality at any outdoor function--athletic games, etc. such introductions need not imply further acquaintance if undesirable. dancing. the man must be introduced to the woman, and he should ask her for the privilege of a dance. entertainments. introductions are not absolutely required at musicales, teas, "at homes," etc. one may converse with those nearest, but this does not warrant future recognition. men. men are introduced to women and single men to married men. when introduced to a woman, a man should bow but not shake hands, and make some pleasant observations, and express pleasure at the introduction. when introduced to another man, the man should shake hands. business introductions are immediate and personal, and are intended to bring men together without much formality. no formality is required in introducing one man to another on casual meeting. it is well to avoid exaggerated expressions, as: "delighted to meet you," or "glad to know you." a simple "how do you do" is better. a man introducing another to a woman should first ask her permission to do so. this gained, he introduces him with the remark: "mr. smith desires to be introduced to miss wilson." a woman's permission should first be obtained by the party introducing. very often off-hand introductions take place; but it is better to be more formal and careful, as indicated. if she evades or declines, a man should accept it without any show of feeling, and make it as easy for her as possible. after an introduction at an entertainment, when a man meets the woman on the street, she should bow first if she desires to continue the acquaintance. chaperone. a man should never be introduced direct by card or letter to a young unmarried woman. if he desires to be introduced, the letter or card of introduction should be addressed to her chaperone or mother, who may then introduce him to the young woman if she deems it advisable. at an entertainment a chaperone may ask a young man if he wishes to be introduced to the one under her care. formula. a good formula for men is: "mr. brown, may i present mr. clark?" a man presenting a man friend to a woman should say: "mr. williams desires to be presented to miss wilson. miss wilson, allow me to introduce mr. williams. this is mr. williams, miss wilson." the formality is sometimes waved, and the forms, "this is mr. so and so, miss jones," "mrs. smith, miss jones," or "allow me to present ----," are used when casual meetings occur. party introduced. after receiving call of party to whom you have been introduced, the visit should be returned. if at home card was left, the call should be made only on the days specified; if an ordinary card, call at any time within three to ten days. if the party introduced leaves town, he should send his card to his late host before leaving; upon his return, he should leave his card again. party introducing by card--women. a note of explanation may be sent by party who brings about the introduction to the party to whom the introduction is made, giving such explanations as may be deemed advisable. two cards should be used--a person's own card and the card of the party being introduced, enclosed in envelope, and sent by mail or messenger. on the left corner over name of party introduced should be written: introducing mr. wilson party introducing by letter--women. care should be exercised that the introduction is agreeable to all concerned. receptions. the man should express desire for an introduction. women. women calling and meeting others may be introduced to each other by the hostess. upon such an occasion, when a meeting happens between women, conversation may take place between them without an introduction. it does not imply further acquaintance if not desired. extreme etiquette demands that no two women of the same locality be introduced to each other without the consent of both parties. the object of this is that, although the parties may be agreeable to the hostess, they may be objectionable to each other. women upon being introduced to each other may shake hands, but a slight inclination of the body, a smile, and an appropriate remark are more correct. when entering a room where others are assembled, introducing a guest to more than one person at a time is unadvisable. men are introduced to women, single women to married women, and a young woman to an older one. no woman should allow a man to be introduced to her unless her permission has been first obtained. the exception would be in the case of a very elderly man, or a celebrity, when the honor would be conferred upon her. a married woman to whom a man is presented receives him with some pleasant remark. an unmarried one receives him with a pleasant smile and repeats his name. personal introduction is done by a third party introducing two persons to each other, provided it is agreeable to all concerned. introductions should be made with extreme care and caution, and not at all unless one is well acquainted with both parties. outdoor introductions--as, when meeting others, or at outdoor sports--need not be formal, but can be done haphazard. this does not imply further acquaintance if not desired. formula. a woman should introduce her husband to acquaintances as "my husband," and not "mr."; to intimate friends as "henry." hostess. introductions to the hostess at an "at home," or reception by women assisting hostess, of those who have been invited to the entertainment by them, are not recognized thereafter unless by mutual consent. the hostess receiving in her own home should offer her hand to all to whom she is introduced. the hostess introduces her immediate family to all her guests. no formal permission is necessary. in the case of one woman desiring an introduction to another, the hostess should be asked to bring this about. introduction, letters of. the introduction of one person to another by letter is as follows: the party introducing writes the name of the party he introduces upon his own card, and above his name the words: introducing mr. wilson (his friend's name). it is then placed in an envelope and addressed to the person to whom the introduction is to be made. on the lower left-hand corner of the envelope, introducing mr. wilson, is written, and given to the bearer unsealed. the party to whom a letter of introduction is given should send it by mail to the party they desire to be introduced to, enclosing their own card with address, and then await invitation to call. this is preferable to calling in person, as it may not be agreeable or desirable for the party to open and begin such an acquaintance. in business introduction, such formality may be set aside. if a letter of introduction is personally delivered, the party presenting it should also enclose card. if the party called upon is not at home, the letter or card should not be left, but sent by mail or messenger. the one giving another a letter of introduction may write to the friend explaining why it is done, who and what the party is. if a man sends a letter of introduction to a woman, she should acknowledge it, and, if she wishes, invite him to call. party receiving--women. the party receiving cards of introduction should call in person upon woman introduced; if unable to do so, a letter should be sent, stating reasons of inability to be present. a member of the family may make the call instead. it should be done within three days. if not agreeable to receive party for any reason, a card may be sent or left. no personal visit need be made. invalid's calls. a woman unable to call from sickness may have her calls made for her by her sister, or daughter, or some female relative. invitations. care should be exercised in inviting new acquaintances to breakfast, luncheon, or dinner, unless there are some particular reasons why they will be especially agreeable to those invited. all invitations should be sent by mail. verbal invitations should be avoided as much as possible, and if a verbal one is given, it should be followed immediately by one in writing. accepting or declining. invitations to all entertainments, when answers are expected, should be acknowledged by a written letter of acceptance or regret. the answer should be sent to the person or committee issuing the invitation. invitations to dinners, musicales, weddings, and breakfasts should be answered at once, and those to balls, dances, and receptions within one week. invitations to ordinary "at homes," teas, or weddings, which do not include invitations to the wedding breakfast or reception, need no acknowledgment. the invitations sent to a family--as, mother, or daughter, or several daughters-- may be answered by one person for all. but invitations sent to the men of the family should be answered by each man. when it is found necessary to decline after accepting an invitation, a card should be sent the evening of the entertainment with an explanatory letter the day following. balls. invitations to balls or assemblies should be answered immediately, and if declined the ticket should be returned. dancing. while a woman may accept or decline any invitation to dance, it is considered a discourteous act to refuse one man and to accept thereafter from another an invitation to the same dance. weddings. such invitations should be answered at once, except when the invitation does not include an invitation to the wedding reception or breakfast, in which case no answer is needed. addressing. when invitations are sent to a husband and wife and daughter, only one envelope is needed, the daughter's name appearing under her parents. separate envelopes should be addressed to two daughters--as, misses wilson. separate envelopes should be addressed to each son. men. if an invitation is sent to a man, he should answer it himself; but if sent to a man and wife, the latter may answer for both. to call with chaperone's permission. if permission is asked, and if agreeable, a chaperone should invite a man to call upon her and her protege. every effort should be made to call at the specified time. to call on women. if a woman invites a man to call without specifying the time, it is equivalent to no invitation at all. to call on women through letters of introduction. if a man having a letter of introduction sends the same by mail to a woman, it should be acknowledged by a written invitation to call. if the person receiving the letter does not care to receive the party, a card is sent which ends the matter. r. s. v. p. the use of these letters--standing for "repondez, s'il vous plait" (answer, if you please)--is decreasing. all invitations bearing these letters should be answered at once. these may be used on invitations to ceremonious receptions, breakfasts, luncheons, dinners, and to meet a prominent person. wife. when a husband and wife are invited to a dinner, and the former does not accept, the wife should also decline and give her reasons. the hostess can then invite the wife only, who may accept. women. a young woman receiving an invitation to a man's supper, tea, or dinner, may accept, if she has the consent of her mother or chaperone, and is assured that a chaperone will be present. women--theatre. women receiving an invitation from a man for the theatre should have the consent of mother or chaperone, and when they accept, may, with propriety, request their escort not to provide a carriage unless full dress on their part is requested. afternoon teas. see afternoon teas--invitations. afternoon teas (formal)--invitations. at homes. see at homes--invitations. bachelors' dinners. see bachelors' dinners--invitations. bachelors' teas. see bachelors' teas--invitations. balls. see balls--invitations. breakfasts. see breakfasts--invitations. bride. see bride--invitations. christenings. see christenings--invitations. cotillions. see cotillions--invitations. see cotillions by subscriptions--invitations. musicales. see musicales--invitations. pall-bearers. see pall-bearers--invitations. parties. see parties--invitations. telephone. see telephone invitations. theatre. see theatre and opera parties given by men--invitations. verbal. see verbal invitations. ivory wedding. this is the thirtieth wedding anniversary, and is not usually celebrated. if, however, it is done, the invitations may bear the words: no presents received, and in accepting or declining the invitation congratulations may be extended. any article of ivory is appropriate as a gift. an entertainment is usually provided. jewelry--men. jewelry, except the very plainest, should not be worn, and in general the less the better. a display of diamonds and fancy jewelry betrays the poor taste of the wearer. a man wearing the pins and badges of secret societies should see that they are small and unobtrusive, for in jewelry, as in all matters of dress, quality rather than quantity is to be desired. jr. when the son is named after the father, he adds jr. to his name. upon the death of the father he omits it. this abbreviation is sometimes added to a woman's name on her card when her husband has the same name as his father, and it is necessary to distinguish between the cards of the daughter-in-law and the mother-in-law. if the mother-in-law should become a widow and wish to retain the husband's baptismal name, she should add sr., while her daughter would erase jr. if both become widows, and wish to retain their husband's christian names, the daughter-in-law should add jr. justice of the united states supreme court--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear justice wilson, and ends: believe me, most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: mr. justice john j. wilson. king of england--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, may it please your majesty, and ends: i have the honor to remain your majesty's most obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain your majesty's most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to his most gracious majesty, king edward. kiss, wedding. the kiss in the wedding ceremony is being done away with, especially at church weddings. only the bride's parents and her most intimate friends should kiss her, and for others to do so is no longer good form. knife and fork. the knife is always held in the right hand, and is only used for cutting the food. the fork is used not only in eating fish, meat, vegetables, and made dishes, but also ices, frozen puddings, melons, salads, oysters, clams, lobsters, and terrapin. the knife should never be used to carry food to the mouth. see also spoon. knight--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain, sir, your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear sir john wilson, and ends: believe me, dear sir john, faithfully yours. the address on the envelope is: to sir john wilson. wife of. see wife of knight. laundress--tips. guests at the end of a house party do not tip the laundress unless she has done special work for them. leather wedding. this is the twelfth anniversary of the wedding-day, and is not usually observed. if, however, it is observed, the invitations may bear the words: no presents received, and congratulations may be extended in its acceptance or declination. any article of leather would be an appropriate gift. an entertainment usually follows. letters. addressing. see addressing and signing letters, and also under title of person addressed --as, governor, mayor, etc. written after house parties. if the visit has been more than two days in length, a guest should write to the hostess a short letter, telling of his pleasant visit and safe journey home. conclusion of. see conclusion of a letter. of condolence. see condolence, letters of. of introduction. see introduction, letters of. lettuce leaves should not be cut, but folded up with a fork, and then lifted to the mouth. in the event of these being too large for this treatment, they should be broken into suitable pieces with the fork. license, marriage. a license, when required by state law, should be obtained by the groom and handed to the officiating clergyman the day before the ceremony. usually a small fee is charged, and the details, when entered upon the clerk's records, are open to public inspection. the day need not be named, and until the marriage is solemnized the license has no binding effect. luncheons. usually only women are invited to these entertainments. oddities, such as pink, blue, and yellow luncheons, are not in good taste. they should be as simple as possible. informal luncheons are the same as informal breakfasts. a more formal luncheon is proper when introducing a special guest. small tables are used, and diagrams of their arrangement are placed in the dressing-room, designating the places of the guests. calls. calls should be made a week after entertainment. women. women dress in visiting toilettes and wear their bonnets, laying aside their wraps in the dressing-room. gloves should be removed at table. after coffee, the guests should take their leave, making some gracious remark to the hostess. calls should be made a week after the entertainment. given by bachelors. see bachelors' luncheons. guests. only women, as a rule, attend luncheons. for further details, see luncheons--women. hostess. introductions take place in the parlor. at the appointed hour the hostess leads the way to the drawing-room, followed by the guests. the hostess and principal guest should sit at one of the centre-tables. between the courses the hostess and two of the women seated with her rise and change seats with others. this may be done by others also if they desire. they take their napkins with them. hours. the hour is from to p.m. introductions. introductions take place in the parlor. invitations. cards are engraved, and sent two weeks in advance. men--leaving cards. if men are invited, they should, after a luncheon, leave a card for host and hostess, whether the invitation was accepted or not; or it may be sent by mail or messenger, with an apology for so doing. maids--tips. it is customary for guests leaving after a visit at a private house to remember the maid who has taken care of the room by giving her a reasonable tip. a woman should give more for extra attention. maid of honor. this important person is selected by the bride, and acts for her in all details, being virtually mistress of ceremonies and filling a position requiring administrative ability and tact. she acts in the same capacity as the best man does for the groom. she is invited, of course, to the dinner given by the bride to the bridesmaids. she fulfils whatever duties the bride has been unable, from press of time, to attend to --as, making calls, etc. church. she goes to the church with one of the parents of the bride, and meets the bride and the bridesmaids in the vestibule. in the procession she follows behind the bridesmaids, and precedes the flower girl, if there is one--otherwise the bride. on their arrival at the altar she takes her place by the side of the bride, and is ready at the plighting of the troth to take the bride's glove and bouquet, and returns them to her at the end of the ceremony. after the congratulations of the clergyman, she parts the bridal veil, arranges the bride's train, and follows the bride down the aisle to the vestibule. here, after giving her best wishes to the bride, she takes her carriage to the bride's house to take part in the reception or breakfast. day of wedding. she should be at the house of the bride on the morning of the wedding-day to assist the bride's mother, to see that the trousseau is all ready and packed, that the bridesmaids are on time, and to attend to the many details liable to arise. dress. her dress should be some delicate color other than white, so as not to detract from the bride, and should be subdued in comparison. it may be, and usually is, more elegant in quality than that of the bridesmaids. wedding breakfast. the best man escorts the maid of honor, and they are usually seated at the bridal table. wedding reception. she stands next the bride to receive with her, and also retires with her to assist the latter in exchanging her wedding dress for the traveling-dress. it is her privilege to cast a slipper at the carriage which takes away the married couple, and her duty to prepare packages of rice, which are given to the guests to be thrown after the married couple as they leave the house. mail, invitations sent by. all invitations should be sent by mail and verbal ones avoided. mail or messenger, sending cards by. see cards, visiting--sending by mail or messenger. man servants--tips. it is customary for a man, at the end of a house party, to give to the man servant who has acted as his valet a suitable tip. marchioness-how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the most noble the marchioness of kent. a social letter begins: dear lady kent, and ends: believe me, dear lady kent, very sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the marchioness of kent. marchioness, dowager--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear lady kent, and ends: believe me, dear lady kent, very sincerely yours. the address on the envelope in both cases is: to the dowager marchioness of kent, or to mary, marchioness of kent. marquis--how addressed. an official letter begins: my lord marquis, and ends: i have the honor to be your lordship's obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the most noble the marquis of kent. a social letter begins: dear lord kent and ends: believe me, lord kent, very sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the marquis of kent. marquis. daughter of. see daughter of marquis. wife of younger son of. see wife of younger son of marquis. younger son of. see son (younger) of marquis. marking wedding presents. while it is not strictly necessary that wedding presents be marked, yet it is customary, and they should always be marked with the bride's maiden name, unless specially intended for the groom's individual use. matinees. proper music should be provided. the refreshment-room should be within easy reach. light dainties should be served occasionally to those not caring to go to the refreshment-room. dress. if after six o'clock, evening dress should be worn; otherwise, afternoon dress. host. the head of the house need not be present. hostess. the hostess and those assisting her should not dance, unless all her guests are provided with partners or are otherwise entertained. invitations. these may be written or engraved, with dancing and the hour for beginning in the lower left-hand corner. they should be sent two weeks in advance, and should be promptly answered. men. gloves should be worn when dancing. see also balls. cotillions. dances. dancing. mayor of a city--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, or your honor, and ends: i have the honor, sir, to remain your obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mayor wilson, or, dear mr. wilson, and ends: believe me, most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: his honor, the mayor of kent, john j. wilson. men. addressing envelopes. see addressing envelopes--men. afternoon dress. see afternoon dress--men. afternoon teas. see afternoon teas--men. bachelors' dinners. see bachelors' dinners--men. bachelors' teas. see bachelors' teas--men. balls. see balls--men. bicycling. see bicycling--men. bowing. see bowing--men. breakfasts. see breakfasts--men. calls. see calls--men. cards. see cards, visiting--men. chaperones. see chaperones--men. christenings. see christenings--men. conclusion of letters. see conclusion of a letter--men. cotillions by subscriptions. see cotillions by subscriptions--men. dances. see dances--men. dancing. see dancing--men. debutante. see debutante--men. dinners. see dinners--men. driving. see driving--men. dress. see dress--men. engagement. see engagement--men. evening dress. see evening dress--men. flowers. see flowers--men. funerals. see funerals--men. garden parties. see garden parties--men. gloves. see gloves--men. high tea. see high tea--men. house parties. see house parties--men. introductions. see introductions--men. invitations. see invitations--men. jewelry. see jewelry--men. luncheons. see luncheons--men. morning dress. see morning dress--men. mourning. see mourning--men. newcomer, residents' duty to. see newcomer, residents' duty to men. riding. see riding--men. salutations. see salutations--men. shaking hands. see shaking hands--men. stationery. see stationery--men. street-cars. see street-cars--men. street etiquette. see street etiquette--men. theatre parties. see theatre parties--men. titles. see titles--men. traveling. see traveling--men. weddings. see weddings--men. messenger, sending cards by. see cards, visiting-- sending by mail or messenger. minister (protestant)-how addressed, an official letter begins: reverend dear sir, and ends: i remain sincerely yours. a social letter begins: dear mr. wilson, and ends: i beg to remain sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: the reverend john j. wilson. but if the clergyman holds the degree of d.d. (doctor of divinity), the address may be: the reverend john j. wilson, d.d., or reverend dr. john j. wilson. minister. see clergyman. miss. this is the prefix both in conversation, correspondence, and on the visiting-card of the eldest daughter, the next daughter being known as miss annie smith; but on the death or marriage of the eldest daughter, she becomes miss smith. monograms. if men and women wish, these may be stamped in the latest colors on their stationery. when the address is stamped, it is not customary to stamp the monogram. the latest fashion in the style of monograms require that they should be the size of a ten-cent piece. all individual eccentricities of facsimiles of handwriting, etc., should be avoided. it is not customary to have the monogram on the flap of the envelope. if sealing-wax is used, it should be of some dull color. morning dress. men. morning costume consists of a dark frock coat, with vest and light trousers. this can be worn at any entertainment occurring in the daytime--as, weddings, luncheons, receptions of all kinds, matinees, or ceremonious visits. anything worn is admissible in morning dress, a business suit, cutaway, sack suit, hats or caps, and undressed kid gloves of a dark color. at out-of-town resorts, golf, wheeling, and yachting costumes suitable for outdoor sport may be worn in the morning. it is considered the correct thing for a man to tie his own tie instead of buying them ready made. see also afternoon dress--men. evening dress--men. mother. a mother should receive an invitation for any function to which her daughters are invited, and should go and return with them. debuts. the mother and the elder unmarried daughter, prior to the debut, calls formally upon those who are to be invited. she stands at her daughter's side to receive the congratulations of the guests, and at a dance she selects the first partner to dance with the debutante, and at the dinner or supper is escorted by the most distinguished man. see also chaperone. mother of bride. at the wedding reception she is escorted by the father of the groom, and receives with the married couple. at the wedding breakfast she is escorted by the father of the groom. mother of groom. at the wedding reception she receives with the married couple. at the wedding breakfast she is taken in by the father of the bride, following after the ushers and the maids of honor. mourning. those in mourning for parent, child, brother, or husband should not be seen at any public function or private entertainment before six months have passed. cards. these are the same size as visiting-cards. a black border is used, the width to be regulated by the relationship to the deceased relative. they should be sent to indicate temporary retirement from and re-entrance into society. within a month after death in a family friends should leave cards. the persons receiving the same should acknowledge the remembrance and sympathy when they are ready to resume their social functions. this may be done by letter or card. men. mourning cards are the same size as visiting-cards, and a black border is used, the width to be regulated by the relationship of deceased relative. women. mourning cards should be sent, to indicate temporary retirement from society. later cards should be sent, to indicate return to society. children. children under twelve need not be dressed in mourning, though they often are. only the lightest material should be used. girls of more advanced age do not wear veils, but crape may be worn in hat or dress, according to taste. for parent, brother, or sister, mourning is worn for about one year. men. men wear mourning one year for loss of wife. a crape band should be worn around the hat, its width being determined by the nearness of the relative mourned for. it is usually removed after eight months. a widower wears mourning for one year, or, if he wishes, eighteen months, and for a brother, sister, parent, or a child, from six months to a year, as he desires. for the loss of other relatives, duration of mourning is generally regulated by the members of the family. the wearing of a black band on the coat sleeve in token of half-mourning is an english custom, and is somewhat practised in this country. stationery-men. a widower uses a black border about one-third of an inch on his stationery, and this at intervals is diminished. all stamping should be done in black. women. a widow's stationery should be heavily bordered, and is continued as long as she is in deep mourning. this is gradually decreased, in accordance with her change of mourning. all embossing or stamping should be done in black. weddings. mourning should never be worn at a wedding, but it should be laid aside temporarily, the wearer appearing in purple. widows. a widow should wear crape with a bonnet having a small border of white. the veil should be long, and worn over the face for three months, after which a shorter veil may be worn for a year, and then the face may be exposed. after six months white and lilac may be used, and colors resumed after two years. women. the mourning dress of a woman for parent, sister, brother, or child is the same as that worn by a widow, save the white bonnet ruche--the unmistakable mark of a widow. for parents and children, deepest mourning is worn at least one year, and then the change is gradually made by the addition of lighter material or half-mourning. for other members of the family--as, aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, etc.--black clothes should be worn, but not heavy mourning. complimentary mourning is worn for three months; this does not necessitate crape and veil, but any black material can be used. women, for children. for a child, mourning is usually worn for six months, thereafter substituting black and white. for brother and sister, etc. mourning for a brother or sister, step-parents, or grandparents is the same as for parents, but the time is shorter, generally about six months. for an aunt, uncle, or cousin the time is three months. for fiance. in the event of the death of a woman's betrothed shortly before the date of the wedding, she may wear black for a short period or full mourning for a year. for husbands. mourning cards are sent out, to indicate that they are not making or receiving calls. mourning is generally worn for two years, and sometimes much longer. woolen material of the deepest black and crape should be worn during the first year. when out-of-doors a crape veil should be worn for a year, or at least three months, covering the face, or, if preferred, the veil may be thrown over the shoulder, and a small one of tulle, or other suitable material, edged with crape, worn over the face. a crape bonnet should be worn, and a very small white ruche may be added if desired. after the first year a gradual change to lighter mourning may be made by discarding the widow's cap and shortening the veil. dull silks are used in place of crape, according to taste. in warm weather lighter materials can be worn--as, pique, nun's veiling, or white lawn. black furs and sealskin may be worn. precious stones, such as diamonds and pearls, may be used if mounted in black enamel. gold jewelry should not be used. a woman should avoid all pretensions to excessive styles. for husband's relatives. a married woman wears mourning for her husband's immediate relatives. for parents and grandchildren. mourning for these persons is generally worn for one year. during the first six months, black material trimmed with crape is used, and also a deep veil, which is thrown over the back of the head and not worn over the face, as for a husband. after this period the mourning may be lightened, according to taste. see also death in the family. funerals. mr. and mrs. cards ( visiting). these cards are not generally used for ceremonious calls after the first series of return calls made by the bride. if the husband is unable, the first year after marriage, to make formal calls, his wife uses the mr. and mrs. cards, and such is accepted as a call from him. but after one year she should leave their separate cards. these are used on formal occasions-as, returning a first call, condolence, congratulations, or p. p. c.--when both the husband and wife are represented. when they are used the first year after marriage, they should have the address in right-hand corner and reception days in lower left-hand corner. the card should read: mr. and mrs. thomas wren wilson music. weddings. the organist and the music are usually selected by the bride. before her arrival, the organist plays some bright selection; but on her entering the church and passing up the aisle, he plays the wedding march. afternoon teas (formal). music is always appropriate on these occasions. musicales. dress. the rule would be that at an afternoon affair afternoon dress would be worn, and evening dress at an evening affair. hours. for an afternoon musicale, the hours are usually from four to six. for an elaborate evening drawing-room concert, any hour may be selected. invitations. these are sent out two weeks before the event. if entertainment is in the evening, they should be issued by husband and wife. if given in honor of a prominent person at any hour whatever, the cards should be engraved, and in either case the word music should appear in the lower left- hand corner. these should be acknowledged at once by a letter of acceptance or regret. napkins, when in use, are laid on the lap, and, when finished with, are not folded up unless one is a guest for a few days; on all other occasions they are left unfolded. a good plan is to follow the example of the hostess. when fruit is brought on, a small fruit napkin is placed across the knee or held in the right hand, with which to hold the fruit, and when it is no longer needed, it should be laid beside the plate. navy, secretary of--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mr. wilson, and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: hon. john j. wilson, secretary of the navy. new acquaintances. women. new acquaintances should not be invited to entertainments unless agreeable to all concerned. an entertainment can be given to meet new acquaintances if there be some special reason for so doing. elderly persons and professional people can send their cards to younger persons if they wish to continue acquaintance. newcomers. ball invitations. it is allowable for a new- comer wishing to give a ball to borrow the visiting list of some friend; but she should enclose in each invitation a calling card of this friend, so that the invited ones may know that the friend is acting as a sponsor. duty of. no effort should be made to obtain recognition of older residents. visits from neighbors should be returned within a week. if from any reason a newcomer is unable to call, a note stating the reason should be sent. if visit of neighbor's male relative is desired, a woman may send him a written or verbal invitation; but if visit is not desired, no notice is taken of his card, in the event of one having been left. residents' duty to men. when calling, kinswoman leaves cards of all the male members of family who are in society. if these cards left by kinswoman are not followed by an invitation to call, it is presumed that the acquaintance is not desired. men can not call upon women of the family of new resident, unless invited to do so by either verbal or written message. residents' duty to women. the newcomer receives the first call from the older resident, which should be made within a reasonable time. women making the first call, leave their own card and those of the male members of the family. it is unnecessary to be introduced in the absence of letters of introduction. visits should be of short duration. olives are eaten with the fingers. opera. see theatre. oranges, served in divided sections, sweetened, and the seeds removed, should be eaten with the fork. if served whole, cut into suitable portions. remove seed and skin. organist at weddings. the organist is selected by the bride, but the fee is paid by the groom. overcoat--men calling on women. when making a formal or brief call, the overcoat should be left in the hall. p. p. c. cards (visiting). these letters--standing for pour prendre conge (to take leave)--are written in the lower left-hand corner of the visiting-card. these cards are used as a formal farewell to such friends and acquaintances whose friendship it is desired to continue. they may be left in person, or sent upon departure from city or winter or summer resort. they are rarely used in brief visits, and should only be used at the close of a season. care should be exercised in sending them, as an oversight in so doing may cause the loss of good friends. pages at weddings. at the wedding, if pages are present, they are usually dressed in satin court costumes, and carry the bride's train. pall-bearers. it is not good taste to ask relatives to be pall-bearers. the usual number is six to eight elderly men for elderly person, and of young men for a young man. six young women in white would be a suitable number to act as pall-bearers for a young woman. pall-bearers should be asked either by note or by a representative of the head of the family of the deceased. the pall-bearers assemble at the house at the appointed hour, and there take the carriages reserved for them. they disperse after the church service. except in the case of young women, carriages are not sent to bring pall-bearers to the house. calls. after accepting an invitation to act as a pall-bearer, a man should call at the house of the bereaved and leave his card. a few days after the funeral he should call again and leave his card. if he wishes, he may simply ask at the door after the women of the family. dress. the pall-bearers wear black frock coat, trousers, and waistcoat, a black silk hat with a mourning band, black shoes, and black kid gloves. the linen should be white flowers. unless there has been a request not to send flowers, a pall-bearer may do so after his first call. if he wishes, a few days after the funeral he may send flowers to the women of the family with his card, on which should be written: with the compliments of -----. invitations. the invitation should be promptly accepted or declined, and if accepted only illness or unavoidable absence from the city would excuse a man from attending. paper wedding. the first wedding anniversary is called the paper wedding, and is not usually celebrated. if, however, it is celebrated, the invitations may bear the words: no presents received. congratulations should be extended in accepting or declining the invitations. any article of paper would be an appropriate gift. an entertainment should follow. parties. these are less formal than balls. they generally begin at nine or nine-thirty, with dancing at ten-thirty or eleven. the supper precedes the dancing. those who do not take part in the dancing may leave before it begins. invitations. these are engraved, giving hour for beginning in lower left-hand corner, and should be sent two weeks in advance. one envelope only need be used. they should be answered promptly. patronesses. it is customary for the management of any institution giving a public ball to formally invite six, eight, or more married women to act as patronesses, and for their names to appear on the invitations. if badges are worn, each patroness is sent one or given one at the ball-room. the patronesses, after being welcomed at the ball by the management committees, take their places, ready to receive the guests. the committee of arrangements should look after the patronesses, introduce distinguished guests to them, escort them to supper and finally to their carriages. see also cotillions by subscriptions-- patronesses. dances. peaches should be quartered and the quarters peeled, then taken up by the fingers and eaten. peas are eaten with a fork. plums and grapes should be eaten one by one, and the pits allowed to fall noiselessly into the half-closed hand and then transferred to the plate. postal cards. it is wise to restrict the use of postals to impersonal communications; but if they must be used, the message should be brief with an apology for its use. it is a good plan in addition to omit the usual my dear, and to sign with the initials only and the full surname. postponing dinners see canceling dinners. postponing weddings. see weddings--invitations recalled. precedence. dinners. see dinners--precedence. funerals. see funerals--precedence. theatre. see theatre--precedence. presents. see gifts. president--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mr. president, and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: president john wilson. prince, royal--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, may it please your royal highness, and ends: i have the honor to remain, sir, your royal highness' humble servant. a social letter begins: dear sir, and ends: your royal highness' most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to his royal highness, the prince of wales. princess, 'royal-how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, may it please your royal highness, and ends: your royal highness' most obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear madam, and ends: your royal highness' most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to her royal highness, the princess of wales. private weddings. these are attended only by intimate friends and members of the family, and vary but little from home weddings. if the family is in mourning the cards are issued with the name of bride and groom and new address, together with card having bride's maiden name, and the announcement cards are sent after the ceremony. afternoon dress should be worn at an afternoon wedding, and evening dress at an evening wedding. proposals of marriage. the time, manner, and details of proposals of marriage are appropriately left to the good taste and judgment of the groom. if the proposal is rejected, good taste, womanly refinement, and courteous consideration demand that it be kept an inviolate secret, and any such breach of confidence may be rightly deemed the act of a woman without taste or tact, and unworthy of respect. proposals by women, while permissible, are not customary. public balls, by public balls are meant county and charity balls, and balls given by social institutions where dancing is the main feature. these public balls differ from private ones in that all the duties of the hostess fall upon some committees. these committees would follow the same rules as laid down for a hostess--issuing engraved invitations from fourteen to seventeen days in advance, engaging a caterer, etc. the etiquette for a public ball is the same as for a private one, save that guests arrive and depart when they please without taking leave of those who receive, and men wishing introductions apply for them to the floor or reception committee. at the cloak-rooms a small fee is paid to the attendant. see also all entries under balls. badges. it is customary for the men and women on the committees to wear on the left side of the breast ornamental and embroidered badges, with the official position designated on it. committee. the committee at a public ball takes the place of the hostess, filling all her duties and offices. patronesses. it is customary for the management formally to invite six, eight, or more married women to act as patronesses of the ball, and for their names to appear on the invitations. if badges are prepared for the patronesses, one is sent to each patroness or handed to her on the evening of the dance. the patronesses should be welcomed at the ball by the management, and they then take their position ready to receive the guests. the management should look after the patronesses, to see that they are taken into supper, to introduce prominent guests to them, and, finally, to escort the patronesses to their carriages. public places. see also elevators. restaurants, street-cars. street etiquette. r. s. v. p. the use of these letters-standing for repondez, s'il vous plait (answer, if you please)-is decreasing. all invitations to which acceptances are expected should be answered at once. if preferred, however, the above abbreviations may be used on the following: invitations to ceremonious receptions, breakfasts, luncheons, dinners, and to meet a prominent person. railroad-men. a man should remove his hat in a parlor-car, but not in a day coach. recalling wedding invitations. when from some good reason a wedding has to be canceled or postponed, the parents of the bride should send, as soon as possible, printed notices, giving reasons to all the guests. receptions. reception days are placed in the lower left-hand corner of visiting-cards-as, until lent, or, in january-and may be either engraved or written. daughters have no reception day of their own, but receive on their mother's reception day. the etiquette at receptions is the same as at afternoon teas. see also afternoon teas. at homes. hours. afternoon receptions are held from to p.m. evening receptions are held from to p.m. invitations, accepting or declining. these should be acknowledged within a week, either by a letter accepting, or declining with regret. introductions. the man should seek an introduction to any woman he wants to meet. the hostess makes what introductions she deems proper. dress. for an afternoon reception guests should wear afternoon dress, and for an evening reception evening dress. afternoon, given by bachelors. see bachelors' teas. evening. the etiquette is the same as for an afternoon tea (formal), save that no cards are left by the guests, and that the guests should wear evening dress. see also afternoon teas (formal). wedding. see wedding receptions. refreshments. wedding receptions. the refreshments are placed on tables, and the guests help themselves or are helped by the bridesmaids. the groom and bride are waited upon by the guests. register, signing of. this is sometimes done by the bride and the groom. this takes place in the vestry, and the best man signs as chief witness and some of the guests as witnesses. rehearsals, wedding. rehearsals should be held even for a quiet home wedding, and at a sufficiently early date to insure the presence of all who are to participate. reporters at weddings. if such is the wish of the family of the bride, the best man attends to the reporters, and furnishes them with the names of groom, bride, relatives, friends, description of gowns, and other suitable details. residence, change of--women. after a change of residence, the cards of the entire family should be sent out as soon as possible. restaurants. if at a table, and a woman bows, the man should rise and bow in return. if a man is one of a party sitting at a table, and a woman with her escort stops to pass greetings, he should rise and stand until they depart. one man introduced to another who is surrounded by male friends should rise to acknowledge the honor of the introduction. when a man is with a woman he should exercise great care in recognizing male acquaintances who may be in doubtful company. he should avoid being in such company himself when in such places. smoking in restaurants is a general custom. the rules of the house govern this. all fees to the waiters should be paid by the one who pays the bills. if a woman is paying her own bill when with a man, it is in order for her to fee the waiter. ribbons at church weddings. one way of distinguishing the pews reserved for the family, relatives, and dearest friends of both families is the placing of white ribbons at the dividing pews. before the arrival of the bride, the ushers, in pairs, at the same time, untie these ribbons, and stretch them along the outside of these pews, and thus enclose the guests and bar further intrusion. if these ribbons are used, it is a good plan to enclose in the wedding invitation a card giving number of pew. the advantage of not using ribbons is the avoidance of any possible discrimination. rice at weddings. the throwing of rice is to be discouraged; but if it is to be done, the maid of honor should prepare packages of rice and hand them to the guests, who throw it after the bridal couple as they leave the house for their wedding trip. riding. men. when riding with a woman, a man should always assist her both to mount and to alight, even if a groom is present. it is customary for the woman to set the pace, and for the man, who always rides on her right, to accommodate himself to her-- trotting, galloping, or walking his horse as she may do. he should always be ready to open all gates for her, and to do all things that will make the riding pleasant for her. if at a fox-hunt, this would mean that he must be ready to sacrifice much of his personal pleasure that she may enjoy herself. dress. there is a perfectly well-accepted dress for men who ride in the park, though it is open to elderly men to wear clothes less pronounced. the correct dress is full riding-breeches, close-fitting at the knee, leggings, a high-buttoned waistcoat, and a coat with the conventional short cutaway tails. the hat is an alpine or a derby, and the tie the regulation stock. these, with riding-gloves and a riding-crop, constitute the regular riding-dress for a young man. a man should always consult his tailor, that the dress in all its details may be strictly up to date. women--dress. there is a well-prescribed riding-dress for women as for men. the habit of dark material, with skirt falling just over the feet when in the saddle, and the close-fitting waist, with long or short tails, together with the white collar and black or white tie, constitute the regulation dress. the derby hat is smaller than formerly. gloves of a dark color and a crop with a bone handle are always in place. any jewelry, save that which is absolutely necessary, should be shunned. in summer it is permissible to modify this costume. as in the case of a man, a woman should consult a tailor of good practical experience, that her costume may be in the correct style. ring, engagement. see engagement ring. ring, wedding. see wedding ring. rising from the table. the signal to leave the table is always given by the women, and the men rise to let the women pass. at a formal dinner the signal is given by the hostess. salt is best taken up with the tip of the knife. salted nuts are eaten with the fingers. seat of honor is at the right of the host. second helping. at formal dinner parties, luncheons, and breakfasts, second helpings are never offered by the host or hostess, and should not be asked for by the guests. this is only permissible at a small dinner party or at the daily family meal. of course, this does not apply to a second glass of water, for which the guest asks, or for wine. it is the duty of the waiter to see that the guest is constantly supplied. second marriages. see widows--weddings. secretary of agriculture. see agriculture, secretary of. secretary of commerce. see commerce, secretary of. secretary of interior. see interior, secretary of. secretary of navy. see navy, secretary of. secretary of state. see state, secretary of. secretary of treasury. see treasury, secretary of. secretary of war. see war, secretary of. seeds should be removed from the mouth with the aid of a fork, or dropped into the half-closed hand. senator--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear senator wilson, and ends: believe me, most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: senator john j. wilson, or, to the hon. john j. wilson. servants-tipping. it is customary for guests leaving a house after a visit to tip the servants, unless positively requested by the hostess not to do so. the average tip would be one dollar, with more for extra attention. shaking hands. dances. it is not customary to shake hands at formal dances. host and hostess. the host and the hostess should shake hands with each guest as they arrive. if guest takes leave of host and hostess, they should shake hands. if they are surrounded by guests, a pleasant nod of farewell is admissible. men. at a wedding, the opera, or a dance, and all very formal occasions, gloves should not be removed when shaking hands. if the hostess wears gloves at any formal affair, a man wears his when he shakes hands with her. he should give a slight pressure only. a man with hands gloved should never shake hands with a woman without an apology for so doing, unless she likewise wears gloves. a sudden meeting, etc., may make a handshaking in gloves unavoidable. unless the other party is gloved, a man should apologize. when men are introduced to men, they always shake hands. it is bad form to crush the hand when shaking it. when introduced to a woman, men should bow, but not offer to shake hands. calls. if the woman is seated when a man enters the room, she rises to greet him, and, if she wishes, shakes hands. she has the option to shake hands or not, and should make the first advances. it is bad form for him to do so. women. upon introduction, a woman may shake hands with either men or women, but a slight inclination of the body, a pleasant smile, and an appropriate remark are more correct. a young girl, upon being introduced to an older woman, should await the action of the elder, who will shake hands if kindly disposed. if one person extends the hand, it should be accepted without the slightest hesitation, to avoid embarrassment. signing letters. see addressing and signing letters. silk weddings. this is the name of the forty-fifth wedding anniversary, and is now seldom observed. if it is, any article of silk would be appropriate as a gift, and congratulations may be extended in accepting or declining the invitations. the invitations may have the words: no presents received. an entertainment usually follows. silver weddings. after twenty-five years of married life, the silver wedding may be celebrated. on the invitations sent out may be engraved the words: no presents received. congratulations may be extended in accepting or declining the invitation. any article of silver is appropriate as a gift. an entertainment follows. at a silver wedding the invitations may be appropriately engraved in a silver-gray color, and the decorations are usually of the same color. slippers-throwing at weddings. the throwing of slippers after the bridal couple on their leaving the house for their wedding trip is in poor taste. smoking. at a dinner when the women rise, the men also rise and remain standing until the former leave the room, when cigars and coffee are served. sometimes the men accompany the women to the drawing-room, bow, and then return to the dining-room for the coffee and cigars, where they remain about half an hour. smoking in restaurants is a general custom, but the rules of the house govern it. theatres provide rooms for it, hence it should be limited to them. there should be no smoking at afternoon entertainments, unless the men are requested to do so by the host and hostess. at balls a room for smoking is generally provided. smoking is not in good taste if a man is going to dance, as the odor of tobacco clings to the clothing. there should be no smoking in the dressing-rooms. smoking a pipe in the street is becoming more common. it is poor taste, however, on a fashionable street. at best, any smoking in the street is bad form. expectorating on the pavement is a most reprehensible habit. if it must be done, a man should step to the curb and expectorate in the street. dances. smoking should not be allowed in the dressing-room, but a special room should be provided. men who dance should not smoke until leaving the house. in presence of women. smoking in the street while walking with a woman should never be indulged in, although she seemingly is agreeable to it. if a man is smoking, and he stops to speak to a woman, he should throw away his cigar or cigarette. a man should not smoke in the presence of women unless bidden by them to do so. few women care to say that it is disagreeable when asked, hence the better course is to await permission. women. if a woman has true regard for herself, she should not indulge in smoking; if she does, it should be in absolute privacy. son. balls. a son should do all in his power to make the ball a success by finding partners for the women having none, seeing that the men are introduced to the women, and taking in to supper a woman without an escort. cards. when a mother is calling, she can leave cards of her son for the host and hostess if it is impossible for him to do so himself. a son entering society can have his cards left by his mother for a host and hostess. invitations to entertainments will follow. son (younger) of duke-how addressed. an official letter begins: my lord, and ends: i have the honor to remain your lordship's obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable the lord john j. kent. a social letter begins: my dear lord john j. kent, and ends: believe me, my dear lord john, faithfully yours. the address is: to the lord john j. kent. son (younger) of earl-how addressed, an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear mr. wilson, and ends: believe me, dear mr. wilson, sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the honorable john wilson. son (younger) of marquis--how addressed. an official letter begins: my lord, and ends: i have the honor to remain your lordship's obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable the lord john j. kent. a social letter begins: my dear lord john j. kent, and ends: believe me, my dear lord kent, faithfully yours. the address is: to the lord john j. kent, son (younger) of viscount-how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have the honor to remain your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear mr. wilson, and ends: believe me, dear mr. wilson, sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the honorable john wilson. soup should be taken from the side of the spoon without noise and without the plate being tipped. men with mustaches are privileged in this respect, and may take the soup from the end of the spoon. souvenirs. bridesmaids. these are given by the bride to her bridesmaids a few days before the wedding, and take the form of fans or jewelry of some kind that may be worn at the wedding. a good time to present them is when the bride gives a farewell dinner or luncheon to her bridesmaids. failing this, they may be sent a few days before the wedding. the souvenirs should, of course, be all the same in value and in style. ushers. the souvenirs given by the groom to the ushers usually take the form of scarf-pins or cuff-buttons. sometimes the groom also gives the ushers neckties and gloves. a good time for their distribution is at the farewell bachelor dinner. sponsors. only relatives and near friends should be asked to act as sponsors at a christening. two women and one man are asked as sponsors for a girl, and one woman and two men for a boy, though one man and one woman are sufficient in either case. these may be invited by note or personal call to act as sponsors, and should answer by note or personal call. a few days before the ceremony the sponsor should send a christening gift addressed to the child, and the giver's card, with a suitable sentiment written on it, should be sent with the gift. a man may give some article of silver, and, if a wealthy relative, a bank-book for money deposited in the child's name. a woman may present the child with a garment, a carriage, a cradle, or some similar article. it is in good taste for the sponsors to call immediately on the parents, to send flowers to the mother, and to show that they are pleased with the compliment. the godfather at the ceremony assents to the vows, and later, at the drinking of the wine, should propose both the health of the child and that of its mother. spoon. the spoon should never be in the cup while drinking, but should be left in the saucer. it is used in eating grapefruit, fruit salads, small and large fruit (when served with cream), puddings, jellies, porridges, preserves, and boiled eggs. sr, the letters sr. (abbreviation for senior) are sometimes added to a woman's name on her card when her son has the same name as his father, and it is necessary to distinguish between the cards of the daughter-in-law and the mother-in-law. if both become widows, and yet wish to retain their husbands' christian names, the daughter-in-law would add jr. on her cards. stag parties. a party composed of men exclusively is sometimes so designated. they are usually informal in character, but may be as elaborate in detail as desired. dress. the tuxedo coat and black tie is worn, unless at a formal stag party, when evening dress is appropriate. state, secretary of-how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mr. wilson, and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: hon. john j. wilson, secretary of state. stationery. men. the variations from plainness and quietness in the use of stationery that are permitted women are denied to men. their paper is never perfumed, and all fancy styles are in poor taste. for his social correspondence a man should use white or gray linen or bank-note unruled paper, folding once in the envelope. he may, of course, use for social correspondence his club stationery. under no circumstances should he use his business stationery for social correspondence. women. unruled plain white or gray paper, that folds once in the envelope, and black ink, are the standard materials for social correspondence. while it is permissible to use some of the latest fancy stationery, care should be taken that it is quiet in taste, and that all merely temporary variations are avoided. while it is better not to use perfumed paper, if any perfume is used it should be extremely delicate. elderly women are apt to favor irish linen or similar stationery. strangers-invitations to a ball asked for by friends. see balls-invitations asked for strangers. street-cars and other conveyances. men. the old custom of a man giving up his seat in a street-car to a woman is being gradually done away with. this is due largely to the fact that women are now so extensively engaged in commercial business that they are constant riders at the busy hours, end thus come into direct competition with men. a well-bred man, however, will show his manliness by giving any woman his seat and standing himself, as she is less fitted for such hardships and annoyances. a man should always give his seat to an elderly woman, one accompanied with children, or one apparently weak and sickly. in giving his seat to a woman, a man should politely bow and raise his hat. it is good form for a man to assist a woman getting on or off a car. if a man is accompanied by a woman when she leaves the car, he should help her off the car. a man should always be polite and courteous toward a conductor, as the latter's position is a hard and trying one. a man should never cross his legs or keep his feet extended in the passageway. if a man finds it necessary to crowd into a car already full, he should do so with consideration and politeness, and with an apology for pressing against any one. it is better to stand than to crowd yourself into a small space between those who are seated. expenses. a man traveling with another man can pay the latter's fare if he wishes. but if he is accompanied by a woman he should pay her fare. if he is in the car, and other acquaintances, men or women, enter, they should pay their own fares. women. a woman should not look with a pained and injured air at the men passengers because no one of them has offered her a seat. the great influx of women into the commercial world, and their being thrown into direct competition with men, has largely done away with the fine old custom of men giving up their seats to women. the impoliteness of many women in accepting a seat as a matter of right and not of courtesy, and perhaps without a "thank you," has helped largely to bring about the present state of affairs. no woman of ordinary good manners should fail to express her thanks for the courtesy proffered. if a woman is offered a seat she should accept it at once-without urging. a man may assist a woman in getting off a car. if a woman is accompanied by a man and she leaves the car, he should assist her to alight. a woman should wait till a car absolutely stops before she gets on or off, and she should face the front when leaving the car. if possible, a woman should have her car-fare handy or easy of access-preferably in her hand-before entering the car if it is crowded. a woman should avoid crowding into a small space between others, and it is better for her to stand than to occupy barely the edge of a seat. if it is absolutely necessary for her to enter a crowded car, she should do so with an apology to those whom she may crowd. conductor. a conductor occupies a difficult and trying position, and will always appreciate any courtesy shown him by a woman. if a woman desires a transfer, she should let him know in ample time; if she wants any information from him, she should ask him when paying her fare, and should indicate her desire to leave the car at least a block ahead of her street. a woman should not trust to a conductor to remember her street, even if she has asked him, but should look out for the street herself. expenses. if a woman is in a car and a man joins her, and the fare is not yet collected, she should pay her own fare. but if she is traveling with an escort she should not offer to pay her fare, as her escort pays the expenses. street etiquette. men. if a man is passed on the street without any recognition by an acquaintance, he should hesitate before accepting it as a direct cut, as it may have been an oversight. if it is repeated, he will know its full meaning. to pass a person whom one knows and to look straight at him without recognition is the rudest way of dropping an acquaintance. a man should avoid loud and boisterous behavior. if a man is compelled to force his way through a crowded street, he should do so courteously and with an apology to any one inconvenienced by his act. in walking three or four abreast, men should be careful not to obstruct the thoroughfare, but should quickly fall into single file when necessary. a man should greet his acquaintances on the street quietly and courteously, and if on a crowded street, should step out of the way of persons and be brief in his remarks. in all public places and conveyances a man should offer his seat to a woman, though he is not expected to do so when reserved seats can be obtained--as, in a theatre, at an opera, etc. accidents. in case of accident or danger a man should protect the woman whom he escorts, and take her to a place of safety. if her clothing is torn, or she has met with some accident of which she is unaware, a man may, if he desires, politely raise his hat and call her attention to the fact. if by accident a man jostles a woman or steps upon her dress, he should raise his hat, bow, and apologize, whether he knows her or not. bowing. a man should not bow to a woman until she has first recognized him, unless they are old acquaintances. a man should acknowledge the salutation of a woman on the street, even if he does not know her, as it saves her from embarrassment at her mistake. when bidding farewell to a woman after a conversation on the street, a man should bow and raise his hat. if a man offers his seat to a woman in a car or other conveyance, he should raise his hat and bow, while her escort acknowledges the courtesy by doing the same. when a man opens a door for a woman unknown to him, he should bow, while she enters in advance of him. a man should raise his hat and bow on all occasions when offering any courtesy to a woman, whether stranger or acquaintance. a man may bow to an elderly man or person of official position. a man may offer his services to a woman in crossing a crowded thoroughfare, and should raise his hat and bow when she is safely over, but should, make no comment unless she does so first. he may also offer her assistance in getting on or off a car, raising his hat and bowing without remark. if a man is accompanied by a woman and another man extends a courtesy to her, he should acknowledge it by bowing and giving a polite "thank you." if when walking with a man a woman meets a male acquaintance who bows, her escort should raise his hat and bow, though the two men are strangers to each other. if the escort meets a man known to him, both men should raise their hats and bow. canes and umbrellas. these should be carried vertically, never horizontally, thereby endangering other persons' eyes. especially is this important when entering cars or going up long flights of steps-as, the stairs of the elevated railroad. conversation. a man who meets a woman, and desires to engage in conversation with her, should ask permission to accompany her. if this is granted, he may proceed a short distance, unless requested to go farther. when meeting a woman on the street and stopping to converse with her, a man should raise his hat and replace it, as it is not now in good form for a man to remain bareheaded until requested by the woman to replace his hat. a man should avoid stopping a woman on the street to engage her in conversation. only an intimate acquaintance with a woman warrants a man joining her on the street. if it is not agreeable, it may be very embarrassing to her. smoking. a man should never smoke while walking with a woman on a street. smoking on fashionable thoroughfares is bad form. a man should avoid expectorating upon a sidewalk, and, if it must be done, should walk to the curb and use the street for that purpose. walking. a man should not walk between two women, but at the side nearest the curb. when walking with a woman, a man should walk near the curb, unless passing an obstruction-as, a building in course of construction-when she should have the outer side to protect her from harm, or from coming in contact with disagreeable things. a man should offer his right arm to a woman, but this is rarely necessary in the daytime. it is essential, however, and proper for him to do so after dark. women. conduct on the street should always be reserved. it is bad form to loudly laugh or to boldly glance at the passers-by, especially men. women should never walk three or four abreast. women may salute each other with a bow and a handshake, but a kiss in public is no longer in good form. during a promenade, where friends pass and repass, it is not necessary to exchange greetings to each other. a polite "thank you," with a bow and a smile, should be the reward of any man extending a courtesy to a woman. bowing. it is the woman's privilege to determine whom she will publicly recognize, and therefore she should bow first to all men whom she desires to favor. this formality is, however, unnecessary with intimate friends. umbrellas. these should be carried vertically, and never horizontally under the arm. walking. if a woman is walking with a man, and another man stops to speak, it would be in exceeding bad taste to ask him to join her. a woman should take a man's right arm, but only after dark, unless for some special reason-as, weakness, etc.-it is necessary. if a woman is walking alone, and a man of her acquaintance stops and speaks, he may ask permission to accompany her farther, which, if agreeable, should be granted. she may stop for a few moments' chat, and shake hands if she wishes. if he stands before her with uncovered head, she should promptly ask him to replace his hat. she should not block the thoroughfare, and should take the initiative if he does not step to one side. if agreeable, an invitation may be extended to him to walk a short distance. subscription balls. men. shortly after receiving an invitation to a subscription ball, a man should leave a card for the patroness inviting him. invitations. in addition to the regular invitations, it is customary to guard against the admission of persons not really invited by the use of vouchers to be shown at the hall door, or some similar precaution is taken. when a subscriber sends an invitation and a voucher, he should send in the same envelope one of his calling cards. sunday calls. informal calls may be made on sunday after three o'clock by business and professional men, provided there are no religious or other scruples on the part of those receiving the calls. men should wear afternoon dress. suppers given by men--women. a young woman may accept a man's invitation, provided she has the consent of her mother or guardian, and is assured that a chaperone will be present. suppers--men. suppers are generally for men. the hours are from ten to eleven. a man can give such entertainments in bachelor apartments or restaurant, and if women are invited, chaperones should be present. the invitations may be given personally, written, or a visiting-card may be used, giving hour and date. if the supper is given in honor of a special guest, engraved cards or note sheets are used. suppers may be of various kinds--such as fish, game, wine, champagne. suppers and theatre parties. men. a man should not invite a young woman to a theatre party or supper without inviting her mother or a chaperone to accompany them. at large theatre parties or suppers, when there are ten or more guests, several chaperones should be invited. any married or elderly unmarried woman can act as chaperone, care being taken that they are well-known and agreeable to all, as much of the pleasure of the evening depends upon them. carriages. a conveyance holding a large party can be sent to take invited guests to the entertainment. the chaperone should be called for first, and should be the last one to be left at home upon returning. the chaperones may use their own carriages and call for guests if they desire. if the chaperones call for the guests, the men can be met at the place of amusement. conveyances should be provided for guests. suppers given by bachelors. see bachelors' suppers. table etiquette. it is correct to take a little of all that is offered, though one may not care for it. bend slightly over the plate when carrying the food to the mouth, resuming upright position afterward. when drinking from a cup or glass, raise it gracefully to the mouth and sip the contents. do not empty the vessel at one draught. guests should not amuse themselves by handling knife or fork, crumbling bread, or leaning their arms on the table. they should sit back in their chairs and assume an easy position. a guest at a dinner should not pass a plate or any article to another guest, or serve the viands, unless asked to do so by the hostess. upon leaving the table, push the chair back far enough to be out of the way of others. accidents. accidents, or anything that may be amiss at the table, should be unobserved by a guest unless he is the cause of it. in that event some pleasant remark as to his awkwardness should be made and no more. the waiter should attend to the matter at once. if a fork or a spoon is dropped it should not be picked up by the guest, but another used, or ask the waiter to provide one. conversation. aim at bright and general conversation, avoiding all personalities and any subject that all cannot join in. this is largely determined by the character of the company. the guests should accommodate themselves to their surroundings. see also finger-bowl, knife and fork, second helping, seeds, spoon, toothpicks, wines, and names of individual fruits and foods--as, apples, bread, etc. talking--theatres. conversation during the progress of the play or the opera should be avoided and confined to the intermissions. the theatregoer should avoid all noise, gestures, or actions that would annoy others. a man would be justified, when annoyed by a person talking loud near him, in asking him politely to speak lower. teas. invitations. these need no acknowledgment. given by bachelors. see bachelors' teas. afternoon. see afternoon teas. high. see high tea. telephone invitations. telephone invitations should be sent only to those with whom the utmost intimacy exists, and who will pardon the informality. theatre. a young man may invite a young woman to the theatre or opera, even if he has but a slight acquaintance with her, but of course he should secure the permission of her parents or chaperone. it is correct for the young man to inquire if the young woman prefers a box, or, if not, he should state in what part of the house he proposes to secure seats. this will enable her to determine how to dress. if the young woman wears street toilette, her escort may take her in any public conveyance, but if she wears evening dress, he should provide a carriage. at the theatre he should precede the woman down the aisle to the seat or box; but if it is the latter, he should open the door and wait for her to pass. a man may use his judgment as to the aisle seat. if a better view can be had, or seemingly objectionable people are next the inside seat, it is perfectly proper to give the woman the aisle seat. a man should never leave his companion between the acts. the custom of both men and women going into the foyer at that time is a growing one, and is a relief to the audience. refreshments at some fashionable place may follow after the entertainment. for a man to call on an acquaintance in an opera box does not relieve one of the duty of making a formal call in return for social favors. bonnet. a woman of any consideration will either wear no bonnet at all or remove it as soon as the curtain is raised. it would be in place for a man or woman whose view is hampered by a bonnet to politely ask the wearer to remove it, and when it is done, to thank her. men--leaving cards. after a theatre party given by a man, he should call within three days on the woman he escorted or leave his card. precedence. in entering a theatre a man precedes the women of his party, but after he has handed his coupons to the ushers he gives the women precedence, and follows them to their seats. talking. conversation during the progress of the play or the opera should be avoided, and confined to the intermissions. the theatregoer should avoid all noise, gestures, or actions tending to annoy others or to render himself conspicuous. a man would be justified, when annoyed by a person talking loud near him, in asking him politely to speak lower. theatre and opera parties. given by men. a man giving a theatre or opera party should secure one or more chaperones if women are to be present. calls. the host should call upon his guests within three days or a week after the event. carriages. the host may, if he choose, send carriages or a stage to collect all the guests. this is a formal and agreeable way to begin the evening's pleasure. the chaperone should be called for first. a more informal way is quite popular. the invitations having been given and accepted, the host informs each of his guests as to the others, and leaves a ticket with each one. all then meet informally at the place of amusement. if a dinner is given before the entertainment, carriages are provided to convey the guests to the theatre. chaperone. a chaperone should always be present if women are to be members of the party. and if a stage or carriage calls for the guests, it should call first for the chaperone. the chaperone who acts as hostess should decide the hour to close the festivities. dinners. if a dinner is given before the performance, it is generally given at six o'clock, the usual customs being followed. if preferred, the dinner may follow the performance, and may be given at any fashionable restaurant or hotel. if it is given before the play, at its termination the guests are conveyed in carriages or stage to the theatre at the expense of the host. after the entertainment it is a good plan for the party to return to the banqueting-room to partake of slight refreshments. dress. men wear evening dress. women wear full evening dress. invitations. he may invite his guests in person or by note. in either case he should secure the parents' permission to allow the young women to attend, and should be ready to supply all information regarding the men who will be present, and also the chaperones. men. the escorts should see the women home unless they are called for by the male members of their families, in which case they may be accompanied to their conveyances. if a young woman is called for by her maid in a carriage, her escort may take her home. intimacy of the parties largely regulates the etiquette of such occasions. they can decide whether evening or street dress shall be worn, and seat themselves accordingly. a carriage should be provided. when entering an opera or theatre box for a short call, a man should stand and bow, making some pleasant remark to the chaperone. if there is an empty chair, he may sit and talk a few minutes and retire as others enter. women. between the acts it is perfectly proper to go into the foyer with the escort, who should carry the woman's wraps and see that all her wants are attended to. should she desire anything, she should call on him first. the hat or bonnet should be removed. in a box the women occupy the front row while the men sit or stand in the rear. a woman should avoid conspicuous manners, loud conversation, laughing, or acting in any way to attract attention. given by women. this is a popular form of entertainment during the season. they are given by married women, and the guests are invited by note. a dinner is given at the house or at a restaurant before the departure for the opera or play. refreshments may also be given after the entertainment at either the house or restaurant. at the dinner the same ceremonies are followed as to arrangements of guests and escorts as at any formal dinner. toasts--weddings. toasts to the bride and groom are customary at the wedding breakfast or supper. if the groom gives a farewell bachelor dinner, he should propose a toast to the bride. theatre parties. see also chaperone-men. chaperone-theatre. third person-used in correspondence. while it was formerly the correct usage to begin formal communications in the third person, it is now the custom to begin such letters: my dear mrs smith, or madam. the third person would be used only in writing to a workman, a strange servant, or a business firm. tin wedding. after ten years of marriage, occurs the tin wedding. the invitations sent out may have the words: no presents received. congratulations may be extended in accepting or declining the invitation. every conceivable device made of tin is appropriate as a gift, but, as these are limited, ingenuity may be displayed in getting up oddities. an entertainment may follow. tipping. at balls. it is not customary to tip the servants at a private ball, but at a public one it is usual to give a tip to the attendant at the cloak-room. at christenings. the father usually gives the nurse at a christening a sum of money, and the mother gives her some article of dress or piece of jewelry. at house; parties. see house parties. guests. tipping servants. also under names of servants--as, coachman. titles. men's cards. men having titles use them before their names--as, reverend, rev. mr., rev. dr., army and navy titles, and officers on the retired list. ll.d. and all professional titles are placed after the name. political and judicial titles are always omitted. physicians may use dr. before or m.d. after their names. on cards intended for social use, office hours and other professional matters are omitted. women's cards. the same principles govern the titles on women's cards, with the addition that women should never use titles of their husbands. toothpicks should not be used in public. if necessity requires it, raise the napkin over the mouth, with the hand behind it, using the toothpick as quickly as possible. town, returning to-women. cards of the entire family should be sent by mail to all acquaintances when returning after a prolonged absence. when using cards, if out of town, the place of a woman's permanent residence can be written on the card thus: new york. philadelphia. travelers' visiting-cards. a woman visiting a place for a length of time should mail to her friends a visiting-card containing her temporary address. a man in a similar situation should call upon his friends, and if he does not find them at home should leave his card. traveling. men with women. when traveling with a woman, a man should see to the checking and care of her baggage. men. as it is exceedingly trying and difficult for a woman to stand in a railroad train while it is in motion, it is the height of good manners for a man to offer her his seat and to insist on her taking it. expenses. on a short boat or railroad trip a man should pay the expenses of a woman who accompanies him by his invitation. but on a long trip she should insist on paying her share, and he should accept her decision. of course, he is at liberty, however, to pay all the expenses of slight entertainments-as, fruit, magazines, etc. he should see to the care of her baggage and all other details. parlor-car. when traveling a long distance accompanied by a woman, a man should secure seats in the parlor-car. while it is admissible to offer assistance to a woman traveling in a parlor-car without an escort, it should be done in the most polite and delicate manner, and be perfectly agreeable to her. women. if a woman arrives at a strange place, especially a large city, and no one meets her, she should ask the station porter to attend to her baggage and all such details, and, if traveling farther, to see to her ticket and to find for her the right train. if at the end of her journey she gives him the address she desires to go to and her trunk checks, he should procure a carriage for her. this saves her much worry and annoyance and needless risk. the same suggestions apply to steamboat travel. expenses. if a woman is asked by a man to take a short boat or railroad trip, he should pay her fare and all other expenses. but if on a long trip--as, a summer outing--and she is escorted by a man, she should insist on paying her own fare and all expenses, allowing him, however, to pay the expenses of slight entertainment--as, fruit, magazines, etc. parlor-car. her escort should attend to all details of traveling. if she is traveling alone, she should always ride in the parlor-car and have the porter attend to her wants. while it may be proper to accept in a parlor-car attentions from a man if he is accompanied by a woman, the greatest caution is required if he is alone; in fact, it is well to be on one's guard, when traveling alone, against the attentions of both men and women. treasury, secretary of--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant a social letter begins: my dear mr. wilson, and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: hon. john j. wilson, secretary of treasury. trousseau, wedding. the bride exhibits the trousseau at a dinner given to the bridesmaids and maid of honor a few days before the wedding. turning down corner of visiting-cards. this should not be done. tuxedo. the tuxedo coat and waistcoat are worn at all informal affairs when no women are present, such as small theatre parties (when not occupying a box), bowling and card parties, restaurants, and the like. it may be worn on the street in the evening with a low hat. a black tie should always be worn, and never, under any circumstances, a white one. see also evening dress--men. umbrellas. men calling on women. when making a formal or brief call, the umbrella should be left in the hall. carrying. umbrellas should be carried vertically, never horizontally, thereby endangering other persons' eyes. especially is this important when entering cars or going up long flights of steps--as, at an elevated railroad station. ushers. a sufficient number of ushers should be provided for to allow of two for each aisle. a good plan is to have one selected as the master of ceremonies, and for him to go to the church on the wedding-day in ample time to personally see that all the details have been carried out. they should be present at all rehearsals. the ushers are usually presented by the groom with some small trinket, such as a pin, as a souvenir of the occasion. calls. the ushers should call upon the married couple as soon as the latter have returned from their wedding trip. church. the ushers should arrive at the church before the guests. each usher should have a list of all the intended guests for whom special places are set aside, and should check off the names of the guests as they arrive. he should know the various guests and where to place them; but if he does not know them personally, he should consult his list. the upper ends of the middle aisles of both sides are usually reserved for invited guests, and are distinguished from the rest of the church by having a white ribbon or a string of flowers stretched across the aisle. the immediate family and special guests occupy the front seats, the family and the guests of the bride taking the left side and those of the groom the right side of the aisle. other guests should be given the best seats, according to their priority in arriving. it is in bad taste for an usher to reserve seats for his own friends as against the first-comers. in seating guests, the usher should give his left arm to a woman and escort her to her seat while her escort follows. before the arrival of the bridal party the ushers take the ribbons at either end, and, walking the length of the aisle, close it against intrusion. upon the arrival of the bride they form in pairs in the vestibule and lead the procession, followed by the bridesmaids, also in pairs. when they approach the altar they separate, one-half to the right and one-half to the left. the bridesmaids do likewise, and stand in front of the ushers. at the conclusion of the ceremony they follow last in the procession to the vestibule, where, after giving their best wishes to the bride and congratulations to the groom, they hasten as soon as possible to the bride's home to assist in introducing and meeting the guests at the reception or breakfast. dress. at a morning or afternoon wedding they wear black frock coats. at an evening wedding they wear full evening dress, also white kid gloves, which are not removed during the ceremony. hats should be left in the vestibule. flowers. if the boutonniers are given by the bride, they should go to her house to receive them and to have her place them in the lapels of their coats; or the boutonniers may be kept at the church in the care of the sexton. gloves. for morning or an afternoon wedding the gloves are gray. at an evening wedding the gloves are white kid. the gloves are not removed during the ceremony. jewelry. they wear the scarf-pins or cuff- buttons given to them by the groom. neckties. at a morning or afternoon wedding the neckties are usually of some delicate color. at an evening wedding the neckties are white, as is customary with evening dress. wedding breakfast. the ushers pair off with the bridesmaids, and are usually seated at a table assigned to them. wedding receptions. the ushers, should introduce the guests to the groom and bride, calling the latter "mr. and mrs. a.," beginning with the relatives and friends, and continuing with the others till all have been introduced. in introducing the guests, the usher should offer his arm to the woman, and if not knowing her, should ask her her name, while her escort follows and is introduced at the same time. the bride may request the usher to introduce the guests to the parents. valet. tips. it is customary for a man leaving after a house party to give to the valet who has waited upon him at least one dollar and more, in proportion for added attention. with master on visit. as a general rule, few american men take their valets with them when they visit. but when such is the case, the valet would wait upon his master, and should give as little care to the household as possible. veil mourning. see widow-mourning. wedding. this should be white. while its length depends upon the wishes of the bride, the long veil is more in keeping with the traditions and customs of the ceremony. verbal invitations. all invitations should be sent by mail, and verbal invitations avoided if possible; if one is given, it should be followed by one in writing. vice-president--how addressed. an official letter begins: sir, and ends, i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mr. wilson, and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: the vice- president, john j. wilson. viscount--how addressed. an official letter begins: my lord, and ends: i have the honor to be your lordship's obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: the right honorable viscount wilson. a social letter begins: dear lord wilson, and ends: believe me, my dear lord wilson, very sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the viscount wilson. viscountess--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. the address on the envelope reads: to the right honorable, the viscountess of kent. a social letter begins: dear lady kent, and ends: believe me, dear lady kent, sincerely yours. the address on the envelope reads: to the viscountess of kent. viscount. daughter of. see daughter of viscount. wife of younger son. see wife of younger son of viscount. younger son of. see son (younger) of viscount. visiting-cards. see cards, visiting. visitors to town--cards. visitors to town should send cards to every one whom they desire to see, with the address written on the cards. vouchers. these are safeguards against the admission of uninvited guests at a subscription ball, and take the form of cards to be shown at the door. when a person sends one of these vouchers and an invitation to a person, he should enclose one of his calling cards. "wallflowers." this is the name commonly applied to young women at a ball who do not dance because of lack of partners. it should be the aim of the hostess, with the aid of her sons and daughters, to find partners for such young women. war, secretary of--how addressed, an official letter begins: sir, and ends: i have, sir, the honor to remain your most obedient servant. a social letter begins: my dear mr. wilson, and ends: i have the honor to remain most sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: hon. john j. wilson, secretary of war. wedding. breakfast. see wedding reception or breakfast. cake. at the conclusion of the wedding break- fast the cake is placed before the bride, who first cuts a piece, and then it is passed to the others. more often it is put up in small white boxes and given to the guests, or the boxes containing the cake are placed on a table in the hallway, and the guests each take one on their departure. day. the wedding-day is named by the bride, and her mother's approval is asked by the groom. it is not customary for the bride to see the groom on the wedding-day till she meets him at the altar. kiss. the kiss in the ceremony is being done away with, especially at church weddings. only the bride's parents and her most intimate friends should kiss her, and for others to do so is no longer good form. receptions or breakfasts. the married couple, on arriving at the house of the bride, place themselves in a convenient location, and, assisted by the best man, maid of honor, and the parents of both parties, receive the invited guests. congratulations are given to the groom and best wishes to the bride. a reception is more often given than a breakfast, as it allows more invitations and more freedom, and the refreshments are placed on the tables, so that the guests help themselves or are served by the bridesmaids. the guests wait upon the married couple. at a breakfast, when the congratulations are over, the breakfast is announced, and the married couple lead the way to the table reserved for them. parents of both parties, the best man, and the maid of honor are usually placed at this table. guests leave a card for the host and hostess and another for the married couple. invitations are sent with the wedding invitations, but only to the nearest relatives and friends. they should be immediately acknowledged, either by letter of acceptance or declination with regret. trip. all details should be arranged before- hand by the best man, who knows the destination, and should keep it an inviolate secret, revealing it only in case of accident. it is becoming the fashion for the married couple to do away with the trip, and instead to begin their married life in their own home. veil. this should be white. while its length depends upon the wishes of the bride, the long veil is more in keeping with the traditions and customs of the wedding ceremony. women-cards. when invitations have been received to the church but not to the wedding reception, cards should be sent to the bride's parents and to the bridal couple. weddings. aisle procession. see weddings-procession up the aisle. anniversaries. see anniversaries-wedding. announcements. announcement cards are sent the day after the wedding, and need not be acknowledged. they should be prepared beforehand and ready to be mailed. the expense is borne by the family of the bride. at a home or a private wedding, announcement cards can be sent to friends out of town. at home. see home weddings. best man. see best man. best wishes. best wishes should be given to the bride and congratulations to the groom. bouquets. the bouquet carried by the bride is furnished by the groom, who may also provide bouquets for the bridesmaids if he wishes. bride. see bride. bridesmaids. see bridesmaids. cake. see wedding cake. calls. see weddings-invitations-calls. cards of admission to church. these cards are used at all public weddings held in churches, and when used no one should be admitted to the church without one. they are sent with the wedding invitations. they are kept in stock by the stationer, and are not expensive. cards, visiting, after marriage. mr. and mrs. cards are used by the wife only within one year after the marriage, after which separate cards are in order. these mr. and mrs. cards are used in sending gifts, congratulations, condolence, and at ceremonious affairs, when both the husband and wife are represented. carriages. carriages should be provided to take the bride and her family to the church and back to the house, and also the guests from the church to the receptions. the expense is borne by the family of the bride, save for the carriage used by the groom, which takes him and the best man to the church, and later takes the married couple to the house, and after the reception, to the station. choir-boys. see choir-boys at weddings. congratulations. congratulations may be sent with letter of acceptance or declination of an invitation to a wedding to those sending the invitations. and if acquaintance with bride and groom warrant, a note of congratulations may be sent to them also. guests in personal conversation with the latter give best wishes to the bride and congratulations to the groom. church. see best man--church. bride--church. bridesmaids--church. groom--church. ushers-church. dances. it is not usual to have dances after the wedding. departure of married couple. see weddings--married couple. dress. see best man--dress. bride--dress. groom-dress. weddings-guests-dress, etc. expenses. all the expenses are borne by the bride's family, except the fees for the license, clergyman, organist, and sexton. the wedding-ring, the carriages for the groom, ushers, best man, and the carriage which takes away the married couple, are also paid for by the groom. he also furnishes souvenirs to the maid of honor and bridesmaids, best man and ushers, and all expenses of the wedding trip. if the groom gives a farewell bachelor dinner, he bears all expenses. farewell bachelor dinners. see groom- farewell dinner. farewell bridal luncheon. see bride-- farewell luncheons. fees. the wedding fee, preferably gold or clean bills in sealed envelope, is given by the best man to the officiating clergyman. custom leaves the amount to the groom, who should give at least five dollars or more, in proportion to his income and social position. the clergyman usually gives the fee to his wife. flower girls. see flower girls. flowers are in general use. the quantity and quality of floral decorations must depend upon the taste and the wealth of the parties concerned. bride. the bride, if she desires, carries at the wedding ceremony a bouquet given by the groom. flowers are sometimes dispensed with, and a prayer-book used. church. in addition to the palms in the chancel, a string of flowers or white ribbons is stretched across the middle aisle, to reserve this place for the immediate family and specially invited guests. ushers. boutonnieres, provided by the bride's family, should be given to the sexton by the florist on the wedding-day. they may be made of lilies of the valley, white roses, or the like. sometimes the ushers call at the house of the bride to have her fix them in the lapel of their coats. gifts. the nearest members of each family should arrange among themselves what gifts to send, and thus avoid duplicates. expensive presents are sent only by most intimate friends, and articles of utility by relatives or near friends. all gifts should be sent within two months of date of marriage, and should have thereon the woman's maiden name, initial cipher, or monogram, and should be acknowledged by the bride at the earliest moment, and not later than ten days after her marriage. it is not in good taste to make an ostentatious display of the gifts, and if they are exhibited, the cards of the donors should be removed, and only intimate friends invited. those sending gifts should have the courtesy of an invitation to the wedding breakfast or reception. if any gifts are sent to the groom, they should bear his initial. a wedding invitation does not necessarily imply that a gift must be sent, as the sending of a gift is optional. groom. see groom. guests-breakfasts or receptions. the invited guests leave the church for the bride's residence, and there are introduced by the ushers to the married couple and those standing up with them. if the guests are unknown to the ushers, they should give their names to one of them, who offers his left arm to the woman, while her escort follows and is introduced at the same time. at the breakfast, guests are usually assigned places, but, if not, may take any seat. only the specially invited guests await the departure of the married couple, which ends the reception or breakfast. if boxes of wedding-cake are placed on a table, each guest takes one on his departure. guests-calls. invited guests should call at least within ten days and leave their cards. dress. broadly speaking, at a morning or afternoon wedding the guest wears afternoon dress, and at an evening wedding evening dress. from the latter rule there are no deviations possible, but in the former there is greater latitude. thus it would be possible for a man to wear a black cutaway coat at an afternoon wedding. men. if the wraps are not left in the carriage, they are removed in the vestibule and are carried on the arm into the pew. a man follows the woman, who is escorted to the pew by the usher. at the end of the ceremony the guests should not leave until the immediate family have passed out. guests who are not invited to the breakfast or reception should not take offense, as the number present on such occasions is necessarily limited. these guests may seat themselves or are seated by the ushers, but not in the pews reserved for the family and specially invited guests. women. no one should be present at a wedding in mourning, and it should be laid aside temporarily even by the mother, who wears purple velvet or silk. women on entering the church take the usher's left arm, and are escorted to the pew, while their escort follows behind. if they are immediate members of the family or are specially invited guests, they should give their names to the usher that he may seat them in the places reserved for them. hats of groom and of best man. to do away with the possibility of the best man having to take care of the hats of groom and best man during the wedding ceremony, it is a good plan for both groom and best man to leave them in the vestry, and to have them carried out to the front of the church, ready for them at the end of the ceremony. home see home weddings. host. see father of bride. hostess. see mother of bride. hours. any hour from nine in the morning to nine in the evening is appropriate. the morning hours are usually selected for quiet home affairs; twelve o'clock, or high noon, is still considered as the fashionable hour, while from three to six is the hour most convenient for all concerned. evening weddings are not very convenient, chiefly because it is not as easy to handle the details as in the daytime. invitations. the woman's parents, guardians, or others give the wedding, send out the invitations, and bear all the expense of engraving and sending out the same. they are issued in the name of the one giving the wedding, and should be sent to near-by friends about twenty days in advance of the wedding day and earlier to out-of-town friends. with them are sent the invitation to the wedding breakfast or reception, and also the card of admission to the church. the groom should supply a list of names of such persons as he desires to have present, designating his preference for those to be present at the breakfast or reception. in addressing wedding invitations, two envelopes are used. the inner one, unsealed, bears the name only of the person addressed, and is enclosed in another envelope, sealed, bearing the address of the person invited. parents should, of course, order these invitations of a fashionable dealer in stationery, that good taste may be observed. if the invitation contains an invitation to the breakfast or reception, it should be accepted or declined at once, and the answer sent to those issuing the invitation. if the invitation does not include a breakfast or reception invitation, no acknowledgment is necessary. should the wedding, however, be at home, and the guests limited in number, an acknowledgment should be sent. if the invitations bear the letters r. s. v. p. an acknowledgment is necessary. bridesmaids. at a large church wedding several invitations are usually given to the bridesmaids for their own personal use. calls. very intimate friends can call personally. friends of the groom who have no acquaintance with the bride's family should send their cards to those inviting them. those who do not receive with wedding invitations and announcements at home cards should not call, but consider themselves dropped from the circle of acquaintances of the married couple. cards, leaving. if a person is invited to a wedding at a church, but not to the reception or breakfast, a card should be left or mailed both to the bride's parents and to the married couple. those present at the ceremony should leave cards in person for those inviting them, and if this is not possible, they can send them by mail or messenger. those invited but not present should send cards to those who invited them. recalled. when for some good reason a wedding has to be canceled or postponed, the parents of the bride should, as soon as possible, send printed notices, giving the reasons, to all the invited guests. journey. see wedding trip. maid of honor. see maid of honor. marking gifts. see marking wedding gifts. married couple. immediately after the wedding breakfast or reception, the bride, with her maid of honor, retires to change her clothes for those suitable for travel. the groom, with his best man, does likewise, and waits for his wife at the foot of the stairs. as she comes down the stairs she lets fall her bridal bouquet among the bridesmaids, who strive to secure it, as its possession is deemed a lucky sign of being the next bride. as the couple pass out of the front door it is customary for the guests to throw after them, for luck, rice, rose leaves, flowers, old shoes, etc. the form to be used in signing the hotel register is: mr. and mrs. john k. wilson. good taste and a desire for personal comfort demand that their public acts and words be not of such a character as to attract attention. see also wedding trip. at home. at the end of the wedding trip they proceed to their own home, and immediately send out their at home cards, unless they have followed the better plan of enclosing them with their wedding cards. they are at perfect liberty to send them to whom they please, and thus to select their friends. at these "at homes" light refreshment is served, and the married couple wear full evening dress. they are generally given a dinner by the bridesmaids, and are entertained by both families in appropriate ways. men-dress. at a morning or afternoon wedding the groom, best man, and ushers wear afternoon dress, but at an evening wedding they wear evening dress. for further details see best man--dress. groom--dress. ushers--dress. mourning should not be worn at a wedding, but should be laid aside temporarily, the wearer appearing in purple. music. the organist and the music are usually selected by the bride. before the arrival of the bride the organist plays some bright selection, but on her entering the church and passing up the aisle he plays the wedding march. pages. see pages. private. see private wedding. procession up the aisle. many styles are adopted for the procession up the aisle. a good order is for the ushers to come first in pairs, then the bridesmaids, maid of honor, and last the bride on her father's arm. at the altar the ushers and bridesmaids open ranks to allow the bride to pass through. this order is usually reversed in the procession down the aisle. recalling invitations. see wedding invitations (recalled). receptions. see wedding receptions. rehearsals. rehearsals should be held even for a quiet home wedding, and at a sufficiently early date to insure the presence of all who are to participate. reporters. see reporters--weddings. ribbons. see ribbons at church weddings. rice. see weddings--throwing of rice. ring. this may be dispensed with, save in the roman catholic and in the episcopal church service. it is usually of plain gold, with initials of bride and groom and date of marriage engraved therein. it is bought by the groom, who should give it to the best man to be kept till it is called for by the clergyman during the ceremony. it is worn on the third finger of the bride's left hand. second marriages. see widows--weddings. signing the register. this is sometimes done by the bride and the groom, and takes place in the vestry, where the best man signs as chief witness and some of the guests as witnesses. souvenirs. see souvenirs. throwing of rice. the throwing of rice is to be discouraged, but if it is to be done, the maid of honor should prepare packages of rice and hand them to the guests, who throw it after the bridal couple as they leave the house for their wedding trip. toasts. toasts to the bride and groom are customary at the wedding breakfast. if the groom gives a farewell bachelor dinner, he should propose a toast to the bride. trousseau. see trousseau. ushers. see ushers white ribbons. see ribbons. widows. see widows--weddings. women--dress. women wear afternoon or evening dress, as the occasion requires. see also widows. guests. weddings--guests. weddings--widows. white ribbons at weddings. see ribbons. widows. card. during the first year of mourning a widow has no cards, as she makes no formal visits. after the first year, cards with border of any desired depth are used. either the husband's name or the widow's baptismal name may be used, but if in the immediate family the husband's name is duplicated, she should use her own name to avoid confusion. when her married son has his father's full name, the widow should add sr. to hers, as the son's wife is entitled to the name. mourning. a widow should wear crape with a bonnet having a small border of white. the veil should be long and worn over the face for three months, after which a shorter veil may be worn for a year, and then the face may be exposed. six months later white and lilac may be used, and colors resumed after two years. stationery, mourning. a widow's stationery should be heavily bordered, and is continued as long as she is in deep mourning. this is gradually decreased, in accordance with her change of mourning. all embossing or stamping should be done in black. weddings. widows should avoid anything distinctively white, even in flowers--especially white orange blossoms and white veil, these two being distinctively indicative of the first wedding. if she wishes, she can have bridesmaids and ushers. her wedding-cards should show her maiden name as part of her full name. widowers--stationery, mourning. the width of black on his stationery should be reduced as the interval is diminished. all stamping should be in black. wife--cards. only the wife of the oldest member of the oldest branch may use her husband's name without the initials. wife and husband--cards, visiting. when the wife is calling, she can leave cards of the husband and sons if it is impossible for them to do so themselves. after an entertainment cards of the family can be left for the host and hostess by either the wife or any of the daughters. wife of baronet--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear lady wilson, and ends: believe me, lady wilson, sincerely yours, the address on the envelope is: to lady wilson. wife of a knight--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear lady wilson, and ends: believe me, lady wilson, sincerely yours. the address on the envelope reads: to lady wilson. wife of younger son of baron--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain, madam, your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear mrs. wilson, and ends: sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the honorable mrs. wilson. wife of younger son of duke--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain, your ladyship's most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable the lady john kent. a social letter begins: dear lady john kent, and ends: believe me, dear lady john kent, faithfully yours. the address is: to the lady john kent. wife of younger son of earl--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain, madam, your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear mrs. wilson, and ends: believe me, mrs. wilson, sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the honorable mrs. wilson. wife of younger son of marquis--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honor to remain your ladyship's most obedient servant. the address on the envelope is: to the right honorable, the lady john kent. a social letter begins: dear lady john kent, and ends: believe me, dear lady john kent, faithfully yours. the address is: to the lady john kent. wife of younger son of viscount--how addressed. an official letter begins: madam, and ends: i have the honour to remain, madam, your obedient servant. a social letter begins: dear mrs. wilson, and ends: sincerely yours. the address on the envelope is: to the honorable mrs. wilson. wine. a guest not caring for wine should turn down his glass and leave it in that position, or a mere sign of dissent when it is offered is sufficient. witnesses at weddings. if witnesses are needed, the best man selects them, and himself signs as the chief witness. wooden weddings. five years after the marriage comes the wooden wedding. on the invitations sent out may be engraved, if desired, no presents received. congratulations may be extended in accepting or declining these invitations. those invited make suitable presents, and on this occasion any device made of wood is appropriate, including articles of utility--as, kitchen utensils, household ornaments, etc. an entertainment usually follows, woolen weddings. this is the name of the fortieth wedding anniversary, and is seldom celebrated. the invitations may have the words: no presents received, and in accepting or declining the invitations, congratulations may be sent. an entertainment should be provided, and any article of woolen would be appropriate as a gift. women. bachelor's dinners. women do not call upon a bachelor after attending a dinner given by him. conduct toward men. male acquaintances should be carefully chosen, and great care exercised in accepting invitations from them. when declining invitations from a man personally given, explanations are not necessary. if they are deemed desirable, they should be given as delicately as possible and without giving offence. it is well never to receive men alone, unless they are most intimate friends. compromising positions are easily fallen into, and a woman should be constantly on her guard. women servants--tips. it is customary for guests at the end of a house-party visit to give tips to the maid for extra attention and taking care of the room, and also to the cook. the latter is usually tipped by the married men and bachelors. afternoon dress. see afternoon dress--women. afternoon teas. see afternoon teas (formal) --women. afternoon teas (informal)--women. bachelors' dinners. see bachelors' dinners--women. bachelors' teas. see bachelors' teas--women. balls. see balls--women. bowing. see bowing--women. breakfasts. see breakfasts--women. calls. see calls--women. cards. see cards (visiting)--women. chaperone. see chaperone. christenings. see christenings--women. conclusion of letters. see conclusion of a letter--women. cotillions by subscriptions. see cotillions by subscriptions--women. dances. see dances--women. dancing. see dancing--women. dinners. see dinners--women. dress. see dress--women. driving. see driving--women. engagement. see engagement--women. evening dress. see evening dress--women. funerals. see funerals--women. garden parties. see garden parties--women. gloves. see gloves--women. high tea. see high tea--women. house parties. see house parties--women. introductions. see introductions--women. invitations. see invitations--women. letters. see fetters-women. luncheons. see luncheons--women. morning dress. see morning dress--women. mourning. see mourning--women. mourning cards. see mourning cards-- women. new acquaintance. see new acquaintances-- women. newcomers. see newcomers--residents' duty to women. riding. see riding--women. salutations. see salutations--women. shaking hands. see shaking hands--women. stationery. see stationery--women. street-cars. see street-cars--women. street etiquette. see street etiquette-- women. theatre parties. see theatre parties-- women. titles. see titles--women. traveling. see traveling--women. weddings. see weddings--women. written cards are in bad taste, but in case of necessity may be used. the name should be written in full if not too long, and should be the autograph of the sender. younger son. see son (younger). this ebook was produced by holly ingraham transcriber's note: note the inconsistency of "brummell" in one place of the original, and "brummel" all other places. also "shakspeare," "don quixotte," "sir piercy," and "esop" are as in the original. there was no table of contents. the original uses both all caps and italics. i have indicated the last with bracketing blanks, _like this._ ********************************** the laws of etiquette; or, short rules and reflections for conduct in society. by a gentleman. philadelphia: . preface the author of the present volume has endeavoured to embody, in as short a space as possible, some of the results of his own experience and observation in society, and submits the work to the public, with the hope that the remarks which are contained in it, may prove available for the benefit of others. it is, of course, scarcely possible that anything original should be found in a volume like this: almost all that it contains must have fallen under the notice of every man of penetration who has been in the habit of frequenting good society. many of the precepts have probably been contained in works of a similar character which have appeared in england and france since the days of lord chesterfield. nothing however has been copied from them in the compilation of this work, the author having in fact scarcely any acquaintance with books of this description, and many years having elapsed since he has opened even the pages of the noble oracle. he has drawn entirely from his own resources, with the exception of some hints for arrangement, and a few brief reflections, which have been derived from the french. the present volume is almost apart from criticism. it has no pretensions to be judged as a literary work--its sole merit depending upon its correctness and fitness of application. upon these grounds he ventures to hope for it a favourable reception. introduction the great error into which nearly all foreigners and most americans fall, who write or speak of society in this country, arises from confounding the political with the social system. in most other countries, in england, france, and all those nations whose government is monarchical or aristocratic, these systems are indeed similar. society is there intimately connected with the government, and the distinctions in one are the origin of gradations in the other. the chief part of the society of the kingdom is assembled in the capital, and the same persons who legislate for the country legislate also for it. but in america the two systems are totally unconnected, and altogether different in character. in remodelling the form of the administration, society remained unrepublican. there is perfect freedom of political privilege, all are the same upon the hustings, or at a political meeting; but this equality does not extend to the drawing-room or the parlour. none are excluded from the highest councils of the nation, but it does not follow that all can enter into the highest ranks, of society. in point of fact, we think that there is more exclusiveness in the society of this country, than there is in that even of england--far more than there is in france. and the explanation may perhaps be found in the fact which we hate mentioned above. there being there less danger of permanent disarrangement or confusion of ranks by the occasional admission of the low-born aspirant, there does not exist the same necessity for a jealous guarding of the barriers as there does here. the distinction of classes, also, after the first or second, is actually more clearly defined, and more rigidly observed in america, than in any country of europe. persons unaccustomed to look searchingly at these matters, may be surprised to hear it; but we know from observation, that there are among the respectable, in any city of the united states, at least ten distinct ranks. we cannot, of course, here point them out, because we could not do it without mentioning names. every man is naturally desirous of finding entrance into the best society of his country, and it becomes therefore a matter of importance to ascertain what qualifications are demanded for admittance. a writer who is popularly unpopular, has remarked, that the test of standing in boston, is literary eminence; in new york, wealth; and in philadelphia, purity of blood. to this remark, we can only oppose our opinion, that none of these are indispensable, and none of them sufficient. the society of this country, unlike that of england, does not court literary talent. we have cases in our recollection, which prove the remark, in relation to the highest ranks, even of boston. wealth has no pretensions to be the standard anywhere. in new york, the liverpool of america, although the rich may make greater display and _bruit,_ yet all of the merely rich, will find that there does exist a small and unchanging circle, whether above or below them, 'it is not ours to say,' yet completely apart from them, into which they would rejoice to find entrance, and from which they would be glad to receive emigrants. whatever may be the accomplishments necessary to render one capable of reaching the highest platform of social eminence, and it is not easy to define clearly what they are, there is one thing, and one alone, which will enable any man to _retain_ his station there; and that is, good breeding. without it, we believe that literature, wealth, and even blood, will be unsuccessful. by it, if it co-exist with a certain capacity of affording pleasure by conversation, any one, we imagine, could frequent the very best society in every city of america, and _perhaps the very best alone._ to obtain, then, the manners of a gentleman is a matter of no small importance. we do not pretend that a man will be metamorphosed into a gentleman by reading this book, or any other book. refined manners are like refined style which cicero compares to the colour of the cheeks, which is not acquired by sudden or violent exposure to heat, but by continual walking in the sun. good manners can certainly only be acquired by much usage in good company. but there are a number of little forms, imperiously enacted by custom, which may be taught in this manner, and the conscious ignorance of which often prevents persons from going into company at all. these forms may be abundantly absurd, but still they _must_ be attended to; for one half the world does and always will observe them, and the other half is at a great disadvantage if it does not. intercourse is constantly taking place, and an awkward man of letters, in the society of a polished man of the world, is like a strong man contending with a skilful fencer. mr. addison says, that he once saw the ablest mathematician in the kingdom utterly embarrassed, from not knowing whether he ought to stand or sit when my lord duke drank his health. some of the many errors which are liable to be committed through ignorance of usage, are pleasantly pointed out in the following story, which is related by a french writer. the abb, cosson, professor in the _college mazarin,_ thoroughly accomplished in the art of teaching, saturated with greek, latin, and literature, considered himself a perfect well of science: he had no conception that a man who knew all persius and horace by heart could possibly commit an error--above all, an error at table. but it was not long before he discovered his mistake. one day, after dining with the abb, de radonvillers at versailles, in company with several courtiers and marshals of france, he was boasting of the rare acquaintance with etiquette and custom which he had exhibited at dinner. the abb, delille, who heard this eulogy upon his own conduct, interrupted his harangue, by offering to wager that he had committed at least a hundred improprieties at the table. "how is it possible!" exclaimed cosson. "i did exactly like the rest of the company." "what absurdity!" said the other. "you did a thousand things which no one else did. first, when you sat down at the table, what did you do with your napkin?" "my napkin? why just what every body else did with theirs. i unfolded it entire]y, and fastened it to my buttonhole." "well, my dear friend," said delille, "you were the only one that did _that,_ at all events. no one hangs up his napkin in that style; they are contented with placing it on their knees. and what did you, do when you took your soup?" "like the others, i believe. i took my spoon in one hand, and my fork in the other--" "your fork! who ever eat soup with a fork?--but to proceed; after your soup, what did you eat?" "a fresh egg." "and what did you do with the shell?" "handed it to the servant who stood behind my chair." "with out breaking it?" "without breaking it, of course." "well, my dear abb,, nobody ever eats an egg without breaking the shell. and after your egg--?" "i asked the abb, radonvillers to send me a piece of the hen near him." "bless my soul! a piece of the _hen_? you never speak of hens excepting in the barn-yard. you should have asked for fowl or chicken. but you say nothing of your mode of drinking." "like all the rest, i asked for _claret_ and _champagne._" "let me inform you, then, that persons always ask for _claret wine_ and _champagne wine._ but, tell me, how did you eat your bread?" "surely i did that properly. i cut it with my knife, in the most regular manner possible." "bread should always be broken, not cut. but the coffee, how did you manage it?" "it was rather too hot, and i poured a little of it into my saucer." "well, you committed here the greatest fault of all. you should never pour your coffee into the saucer, but always drink it from the cup." the poor abb, was confounded. he felt that though one might be master of the seven sciences, yet that there was another species of knowledge which, if less dignified, was equally important. this occurred many years ago, but there is not one of the observances neglected by the abb, cosson, which is not enforced with equal rigidness in the present day. chapter i. good breeding. the formalities of refined society were at first established for the purpose of facilitating the intercourse of persons of the same standing, and increasing the happiness of all to whom they apply. they are now kept up, both to assist the convenience of intercourse and to prevent too great familiarity. if they are carried too far, and escape from the control of good sense, they become impediments to enjoyment. among the chinese they serve only the purpose of annoying to an incalculable degree. "the government," says de marcy, in writing of china, "constantly applies itself to preserve, not only in the court and among the great, but among the people themselves, a constant habit of civility and courtesy. the chinese have an infinity of books upon such subjects; one of these treatises contains more than three thousand articles.-- everything is pointed out with the most minute detail; the manner of saluting, of visiting, of making presents, of writing letters, of eating, etc.: and these customs have the force of laws--no one can dispense with them. there is a special tribunal at peking, of which it is one of the chief duties, to ensure the observance of these civil ordinances?" one would think that one was here reading an account of the capital of france. it depends, then, upon the spirit in which these forms are observed, whether their result shall be beneficial or not. the french and the chinese are the most formal of all the nations. yet the one is the stiffest and most distant; the other, the easiest and most social. "we may define politeness," says la bruy,re, "though we cannot tell where to fix it in practice. it observes received usages and customs, is bound to times and places, and is not the same thing in the two sexes or in different conditions. wit alone cannot obtain it: it is acquired and brought to perfection by emulation. some dispositions alone are susceptible of politeness, as others are only capable of great talents or solid virtues. it is true politeness puts merit forward, and renders it agreeable, and a man must have eminent qualifications to support himself without it." perhaps even the greatest merit cannot successfully straggle against unfortunate and disagreeable manners. lord chesterfield says that the duke of marlborough owed his first promotions to the suavity of his manners, and that without it he could not have risen. la bruy,re has elsewhere given this happy definition of politeness, the other passage being rather a description of it. "politeness seems to be a certain care, by the manner of our words and actions, to make others pleased with us and themselves." we must here stop to point out an error which is often committed both in practice and opinion, and which consists in confounding together the gentleman and the man of fashion. no two characters can be more distinct than these. good sense and self-respect are the foundations of the one--notoriety and influence the objects of the other. men of fashion are to be seen everywhere: a pure and mere gentleman is the rarest thing alive. brummel was a man of fashion; but it would be a perversion of terms to apply to him "a very expressive word in our language,--a word, denoting an assemblage of many real virtues and of many qualities approaching to virtues, and an union of manners at once pleasing and commanding respect,-- the word gentleman."* the requisites to compose this last character are natural ease of manner, and an acquaintance with the "outward habit of encounter"--dignity and self- possession--a respect for all the decencies of life, and perfect freedom from all affectation. dr. johnson's bearing during his interview with the king showed him to be a thorough gentleman, and demonstrates how rare and elevated that character is. when his majesty expressed in the language of compliment his high opinion of johnson's merits, the latter bowed in silence. if chesterfield could have retained sufficient presence of mind to have done the same on such an occasion, he would have applauded himself to the end of his days. so delicate is the nature of those qualities that constitute a gentleman, that there is but one exhibition of this description of persons in all the literary and dramatic fictions from shakespeare downward. scott has not attempted it. bulwer, in "pelham," has shot wide of the mark. it was reserved for the author of two very singular productions, "sydenham" and its continuation "alice paulet"--works of extraordinary merits and extraordinary faults--to portray this character completely, in the person of mr. paulet * charles butler's reminiscences chapter ii. dress. first impressions are apt to be permanent; it is therefore of importance that they should be favourable. the dress of an individual is that circumstance from which you first form your opinion of him. it is even more prominent than manner, it is indeed the only thing which is remarked in a casual encounter, or during the first interview. it, therefore, should be the first care. what style is to our thoughts, dress is to our persons. it may supply the place of more solid qualities, and without it the most solid are of little avail. numbers have owed their elevation to their attention to the toilet. place, fortune, marriage have all been lost by neglecting it. a man need not mingle long with the world to find occasion to exclaim with sedaine, "ah! mon habit, que je vous remercie!" in spite of the proverb, the dress often _does_ make the monk. your dress should always be consistent with your age and your natural exterior. that which looks outr, on one man, will be agreeable on another. as success in this respect depends almost entirely upon particular circumstances and personal peculiarities, it is impossible to give general directions of much importance. we can only point out the field for study and research; it belongs to each one's own genius and industry to deduce the results. however ugly you may be, rest assured that there is some style of habiliment which will make you passable. if, for example, you have a stain upon your cheek which rivals in brilliancy the best chateau-margout; or, are afflicted with a nose whose lustre dims the ruby, you may employ such hues of dress, that the eye, instead of being shocked by the strangeness of the defect, will be charmed by the graceful harmony of the colours. every one cannot indeed be an adonis, but it is his own fault if he is an esop. if you have bad, squinting eyes, which have lost their lashes and are bordered with red, you should wear spectacles. if the defect be great, your glasses should be coloured. in such cases emulate the sky rather than the sea: green spectacles are an abomination, fitted only for students in divinity,-- blue ones are respectable and even _distingue._ almost every defect of face may be concealed by a judicious use and arrangement of hair. take care, however, that your hair be not of one colour and your whiskers of another; and let your wig be large enough to cover the _whole_ of your red or white hair. it is evident, therefore, that though a man may be ugly, there is no necessity for his being shocking. would that all men were convinced of this! i verily believe that if mr. -- in his walking-dress, and mr. -- in his evening costume were to meet alone, in some solitary place, where there was nothing to divert their attention from one another, they would expire of mutual hideousness. if you have any defect, so striking and so ridiculous as to procure you a _nickname_ then indeed there is but one remedy,--renounce society. in the morning, before eleven o'clock even if you go out, you should not be dressed. you would be stamped a _parvenu_ if you were seen in anything better than a reputable old frock coat. if you remain at home, and are a bachelor, it is permitted to receive visitors in a morning gown. in summer, calico; in winter, figured cloth, faced with fur. at dinner, a coat, of course, is indispensable. the effect of a frock coat is to conceal the height. if, therefore, you are beneath the ordinary statue, or much above it, you should affect frock coats on all occasions that etiquette permits. before going to a ball or party it is not sufficient that you consult your mirror twenty times. you must be personally inspected by your servant or a friend. through defect of this, i once saw a gentleman enter a ball-room, attired with scrupulous elegance, but with one of his suspenders curling in graceful festoons about his feet. his glass could not show what was behind. if you are about to present yourself in a company composed only of men, you may wear boots. if there be but one lady present, pumps and silk-stockings are indispensable. there is a common proverb which says, that if a man be well dressed as to head and feet, he may present himself everywhere. the assertion is as false as mr. kemble's voice. happy indeed if it were necessary to perfect only the extremities. the coat, the waistcoat, the gloves, and, above all, the cravat, must be alike ignorant of blemish. upon the subject of the cravat--(for heaven's sake and brummel's, never appear in a stock after twelve o'clock)--we cannot at present say anything. if we were to say anything, we could not be content without saying all, and to say all would require a folio. a book has been published upon the subject, entitled "the cravat considered in its moral, literary, political, military, and religious attributes." this and a clever, though less profound, treatise on "the art of tying the cravat," are as indispensable to a gentleman as an ice at twelve o'clock. when we speak of excellence in dress we do not mean richness of clothing, nor manifested elaboration. faultless propriety, perfect harmony, and a refined simplicity,--these are the charms which fascinate here. it is as great a sin to be finical in dress as to be negligent. upon this subject the ladies are the only infallible oracles. apart from the perfection to which they must of necessity arrive, from devoting their entire existence to such considerations, they seem to be endued with an inexpressible tact, a sort of sixth sense, which reveals intuitively the proper distinctions. that your dress is approved by a man is nothing;--you cannot enjoy the high satisfaction of being perfectly comme il faut, until your performance has received the seal of a woman's approbation. if the benefits to be derived from cultivating your exterior do not appear sufficiently powerful to induce attention, the inconveniences arising from too great disregard may perhaps prevail. sir matthew hale, in the earlier part of his life, dressed so badly that he was once seized by the press-gang. not long since, as i entered the hall of a public hotel, i saw a person so villainously habited, that supposing him to be one of the servants, i desired him to take my luggage upstairs, and was on the point of offering him a shilling, when i discovered that i was addressing the honorable mr. * * *, one of the most eminent american statesmen. chapter iii. salutations. the salutation, says a french writer, is the touchstone of good breeding. according to circumstances, it should be respectful, cordial, civil, affectionate or familiar:--an inclination of the head, a gesture with the hand, the touching or doffing of the hat. if you remove your hat you need not at the same time bend the dorsal vertebr' of your body, unless you wish to be very reverential, as in saluting a bishop. it is a mark of high breeding not to speak to a lady in the street, until you perceive that she has noticed you by an inclination of the head. some ladies _courtesy_ in the street, a movement not gracefully consistent with locomotion. they should always _bow._ if an individual of the lowest rank, or without any rank at all, takes off his hat to you, you should do the same in return. a bow, says la fontaine, is a note drawn at sight. if you acknowledge it, you must pay the full amount. the two best-bred men in england, charles the second and george the fourth, never failed to take off their hats to the meanest of their subjects. avoid condescending bows to your friends and equals. if you meet a rich parvenu, whose consequence you wish to reprove, you may salute him in a very patronizing manner: or else, in acknowledging his bow, look somewhat surprised and say, "mister--eh--eh?" if you have remarkably fine teeth, you may smile affectionately upon the bowee, without speaking. in passing ladies of rank, whom you meet in society, bow, but do not speak. if you have anything to say to any one in the street, especially a lady, however intimate you may be, do not stop the person, but turn round and walk in company; you can take leave at the end of the street. if there is any one of your acquaintance, with whom you have a difference, do not avoid looking at him, unless from the nature of things the quarrel is necessarily for life. it is almost always better to bow with cold civility, though without speaking. as a general rule never _cut_ any one in the street. even political and steamboat acquaintances should be noticed by the slightest movement in the world. if they presume to converse with you, or stop you to introduce their companion, it is then time to use your eye-glass, and say, "i never knew you." if you address a lady in the open air, you remain uncovered until she has desired you _twice_ to put on your hat. in general, if you are in any place where _etiquette_ requires you to remain uncovered or standing, and a lady, or one much your superior, requests you to be covered or to sit, you may how off the command. if it is repeated, you should comply. you thereby pay the person a marked, but delicate, compliment, by allowing their will to be superior to the general obligations of etiquette. when two americans, who "have not been introduced," meet in some public place, as in a theatre, a stagecoach, or a steamboat, they will sit for an hour staring in one another's faces, but without a word of conversation. this form of unpoliteness has been adopted from the english, and it is as little worthy of imitation as the form of their government. good sense and convenience are the foundations of good breeding; and it is assuredly vastly more reasonable and more agreeable to enjoy a passing gratification, when no sequent evil is to be apprehended, than to be rendered uncomfortable by an ill-founded pride. it is therefore better to carry on an easy and civil conversation. a snuff-box, or some polite accommodation rendered, may serve for an opening. talk only about generalities,--the play, the roads, the weather. avoid speaking of persons or politics, for, if the individual is of the opposite party to yourself, you will be engaged in a controversy: if he holds the same opinions, you will be overwhelmed with a flood of vulgar intelligence, which may soil your mind. be reservedly civil while the colloquy lasts, and let the acquaintance cease with the occasion. when you are introduced to a gentleman do not give your hand, but merely bow with politeness: and if you have requested the introduction, or know the person by reputation, you may make a speech. i am aware that high authority might easily be found in this country to sanction the custom of giving the hand upon a first meeting, but it is undoubtedly a solecism in manners. the habit has been adopted by us, with some improvement for the worse, from france. when two frenchmen are presented to one another, each _presses_ the other's hand with delicate affection. the english, however, never do so: and the practice, if abstractly correct, is altogether inconsistent with the caution of manner which is characteristic of their nation and our own. if we are to follow the french, in shaking hands with one whom we have never before seen, we should certainly imitate them also in kissing our _intimate_ male acquaintances. if, however, you ought only to bow to a new acquaintance, you surely should do more to old ones. if you meet an intimate friend fifty times in a morning, give your hand every time,--an observance of propriety, which, though worthy of universal adoption, is in this country only followed by the purists in politeness. the requisitions of etiquette, if they should be obeyed at all, should be obeyed fully. this decent formality prevents acquaintance from being too distant, while, at the same time, it preserves the "familiar" from becoming "vulgar." they may be little things, but "these little things are great to little men." goldsmith. chapter iv. the drawing-room. company. conversation. the grand object for which a gentleman exists, is to excel in company. conversation is the mean of his distinction,--the drawing-room the scene of his glory. when you enter a drawing-room, where there is a ball or a party, you salute the lady of the house before speaking to any one else. even your most intimate friends are enveloped in an opaque atmosphere until you have made your bow to your entertainer. we must take occasion here to obelize a custom which prevails too generally in this country. the company enter the back door of the back parlour, and the mistress of the house is seated at the other extremity of the front parlour. it is therefore necessary to traverse the length of two rooms in order to reach her. a voyage of this kind is by no means an easy undertaking, when there are circes and calypsos assailing one on every side; and when one has reached the conclusion, one cannot perhaps distinguish the object of one's search at a _coup d'oeil._ it would be in every point of view more appropriate if the lady were to stand directly opposite to the door of the back parlour. such is the custom in the best companies abroad. upon a single gentleman entering at a late hour, it is not so obligatory to speak first to the mistress of the ceremonies. he may be allowed to converge his way up to her. when you leave a room before the others, go without speaking to any one, and, if possible, unseen. never permit the sanctity of the drawing-room to be violated by a boot. fashionable society is divided into _sets,_ in all of which there is some peculiarity of manner, or some dominant tone of feeling. it is necessary to study these peculiarities before entering the circle. in each of these sets there is generally some _gentleman,_ who rules, and gives it its character, or, rather, who is not ruler, but the first and most favoured subject, and the prime minister of the ladies' will. him you must endeavour to imitate, taking care not to imitate him so well as to excel him. to differ in manner or opinion from him is to render yourself unfit for that circle. to speak disrespectfully of him is to insult personally every lady who composes it. in company, though none are "free," yet all are "equal." all therefore whom you meet, should be treated with equal respect, although interest may dictate toward each different degrees of attention. it is disrespectful to the inviter to shun any of her guests. those whom she has honoured by asking to her house, you should sanction by admitting to your acquaintance. if you meet any one whom you have never heard of before at the table of a gentleman, or in the drawing-room of a lady, you may converse with him with entire propriety. the form of "introduction" is nothing more than a statement by a mutual friend that two gentlemen are by rank and manners fit acquaintances for one another. all this may be presumed from the fact, that both meet at a respectable house. this is the theory of the matter. custom, however, requires that you should take the earliest opportunity afterwards to be regularly presented to such an one. men of all sorts of occupations meet in society. as they go there to unbend their minds and escape from the fetters of business, you should never, in an evening, speak to a man about his professions. do not talk of politics with a journalist, of fevers to a physician, of stocks to a broker,- -nor, unless you wish to enrage him to the utmost, of education to a collegian. the error which is here condemned is often committed from mere good nature and a desire to be affable. but it betrays to a gentleman, ignorance of the world--to a philosopher, ignorance of human nature. the one considers that "tous les hommes sont ,gaux devant la politesse:" the other remembers that though it may be agreeable to be patronised and assisted, yet it is still more agreeable to be treated as if you needed no patronage, and were above assistance. sir joshua reynolds once received from two noblemen invitations to visit them on sunday morning. the first, whom he waited upon, welcomed him with the most obsequious condescension, treated him with all the attention in the world, professed that he was so desirous of seeing him, that he had mentioned sunday as the time for his visit, supposing him to be too much engaged during the week, to spare time enough for the purpose, concluded his compliments by an eulogy on painting, and smiled him affectionately to the door. sir joshua left him, to call upon the other. that one received him with respectful civility, and behaved to him as he would have behaved to an equal in the peerage:--said nothing about raphael nor correggio, but conversed with ease about literature and men. this nobleman was the earl of chesterfield. sir joshua felt, that though the one had said that he respected him, the other had proved that he did, and went away from this one gratified rather than from the first. reader, there is wisdom in this anecdote. mark, learn, and inwardly digest it: and let this be the moral which you deduce,--that there is distinction in society, but that there are no distinctions. the great business in company is conversation. it should be studied as art. style in conversation is as important, and as capable of cultivation as style in writing. the manner of saying things is what gives them their value. the most important requisite for succeeding here, is constant and unfaltering attention. that which churchill has noted as the greatest virtue on the stage, is also the most necessary in company,--to be "always attentive to the business of the scene." your understanding should, like your person, be armed at all points. never go into society with your mind _en deshabille._ it is fatal to success to be all absent or _distrait._ the secret of conversation has been said to consist in building upon the remark of your companion. men of the strongest minds, who have solitary habits and bookish dispositions, rarely excel in sprightly colloquy, because they seize upon the _thing_ itself,--the subject abstractly,- -instead of attending to the _language_ of other speakers, and do not cultivate _verbal_ pleasantries and refinements. he who does otherwise gains a reputation for quickness, and pleases by showing that he has regarded the observation of others. it is an error to suppose that conversation consists in talking. a more important thing is to listen discreetly. mirabeau said, that to succeed in the world, it is necessary to submit to be taught many things which you understand, by persons who know nothing about them. flattery is the smoothest path to success; and the most refined and gratifying compliment you can pay, is to listen. "the wit of conversation consists more in finding it in others," says la bruy,re, "than in showing a great deal yourself: he who goes from your conversation pleased with himself and his own wit, is perfectly well pleased with you. most men had rather please than admire you, and seek less to be instructed,--nay, delighted,--than to be approved and applauded. the most delicate pleasure is to please another." it is certainly proper enough to convince others of your merits. but the highest idea which you can give a man of your own penetration, is to be thoroughly impressed with his. patience is a social engine, as well as a christian virtue. to listen, to wait, and to he wearied are the certain elements of good fortune. if there be any foreigner present at a dinner party, or small evening party, who does not understand the language which is spoken, good breeding requires that the conversation should be carried on entirely in his language. even among your most intimate friends, never address any one in a language not understood by all the others. it is as bad as whispering. never speak to any one in company about a private affair which is not understood by others, as asking how _tha_t matter is coming on, &c. in so doing you indicate your opinion that the rest are _de trop._ if you wish to make any such inquiries, always explain to others the business about which you inquire, if the subject admit of it. if upon the entrance of a visitor you continue a conversation begun before, you should always explain the subject to the new-comer. if there is any one in the company whom you do not know, be careful how you let off any epigrams or pleasant little sarcasms. you might be very witty upon halters to a man whose father had been hanged. the first requisite for successful conversation is to know your company well. we have spoken above of the necessity of relinquishing the prerogative of our race, and being contented with recipient silence. there is another precept of a kindred nature to be observed, namely, not to talk too well when you do talk. you do not raise yourself much in the opinion of another, if at the same time that you amuse him, you wound him in the nicest point,--his self-love. besides irritating vanity, a constant flow of wit is excessively fatiguing to the listeners. a witty man is an agreeable acquaintance, but a tiresome friend. "the wit of the company, next to the butt of the company," says mrs. montagu, "is the meanest person in it. the great duty of conversation is to follow suit, as you do at whist: if the eldest hand plays the deuce of diamonds, let not his next neighbour dash down the king of hearts, because his hand is full of honours. i do not love to see a man of wit win all the tricks in conversation." in addressing any one, always look at him; and if there are several present, you will please more by directing some portion of your conversation, as an anecdote or statement, to each one individually in turn. this was the great secret of sheridan's charming manner. his bon-mots were not numerous. never ask a question under any circumstances. in the first place it is too proud; in the second place, it may be very inconvenient or very awkward to give a reply. a lady lately inquired of what branch of medical practice a certain gentleman was professor. he held the chair of _midwifery_! it is indispensable for conversation to be well acquainted with the current news and the historical events of the last few years. it is not convenient to be quite so far behind the rest of the world in such matters, as the courier des etats- unis. that sapient journal lately announced the dethronement of charles x. we may expect soon to hear of the accession of louis philippe. in society never quote. if you get entangled in a dispute with some learned blockhead, you may silence him with a few extemporary quotations. select the author for whom he has the greatest admiration, and give him a passage in the style of that writer, which most pointedly condemns the opinion he supports. if it does not convince him, he will be so much stunned with amazement that you can make your escape, and avoid the unpleasant necessity of knocking him down. the ordinary weapons which one employs in social encounter, are, whether dignified or not, always at least honourable. there are some, however, who habitually prefer to bribe the judge, rather than strengthen their cause. the instrument of such is flattery. there are, indeed, cases in which a man of honour may use the same weapon; as there are cases in which a poisoned sword may be employed for self-defence. flattery prevails over all, always, and in all places; it conquers the conqueror of dan"e: few are beneath it, none above it: the court, the camp, the church, are the scenes of its victories, and all mankind the subjects of its triumphs. it will be acknowledged, then, that a man possesses no very contemptible power who can flatter skillfully. the power of flattery may be derived from several sources. it may be, that the person flattered, finding himself gratified, and conscious that it is to the flatterer that he is indebted for this gratification, feels an obligation to him, without inquiring the reason; or it may be, that imagining ourselves to stand high in the good opinion of the one that praises us, we comply with what he desires, rather than forfeit that esteem: or, finally, flattery may be only a marked politeness, and we submit ourselves to the control of the flatterer rather than be guilty of the rudeness of opposing him. flattery never should be direct. it should not be stated, but inferred. it is better acted than uttered. flattery should seem to be the unwitting and even unwilling expression of genuine admiration. some very weak persons do not require that expressions of praise and esteem toward them should be sincere. they are pleased with the incense, although they perceive whence it arises: they are pleased that they are of importance enough to have their favour courted. but in most eases it is necessary that the flattery should appear to be the honest offspring of the feelings. _such_ flattery _must_ succeed; for, it is founded upon a principle in our nature which is as deep as life; namely, that we always love those who we think love us. it is sometimes flattery to accept praises. never flatter one person in the presence of another. never commend a lady's musical skill to another lady who herself plays. it has often, however, a good effect to praise one man to his particular friend, if it be for something to which that friend has himself no pretensions. it is an error to imagine that men are less intoxicated with flattery than women. the only difference is that esteem must be expressed to women, but proved to men. flattery is of course efficacious to obtain positive benefits. it is of, more constant use, however, for purposes of defence. you conquer an attack of rudeness by courtesy: you avert an attack of accusation by flattery. every:one remembers the anecdote of dr. johnson and mr. ewing. "prince," said napoleon to talleyrand, "they tell me that you sometimes speculate improperly in the funds. "they do me wrong then," said talleyrand. "but how did you acquire so much money!" "i bought stock the day before you were proclaimed first consul," replied the ex-bishop, "and i sold it the day after." compliments are light skirmishes in the war of flattery, for the purpose of obtaining an occasional object. they are little false coins that you receive with one hand and pay away with the other. to flatter requires a profound knowledge of human nature and of the character of your subject; to compliment skillfully, it is sufficient that you are a pupil of spurzheim. it is a common practice with men to abstain from grave conversation with women. and the habit is in general judicious. if the woman is young, gay and trifling, talk to her only of the latest fashions, the gossip of the day, etc. but this in other cases is not to be done. most women who are a little old, particularly married women -- and even some who are young -- wish to obtain a reputation for intellect and an acquaintance with science. you therefore pay them a real compliment, and gratify their self-love, by conversing occasionally upon grave matters, which they do not understand, and do not really relish. you may interrupt a discussion on the beauty of a dahlia, by observing that as you know that they take an interest in such things you mention the discovery of a new method of analyzing curves of double curvature. men who talk only of trifles will rarely be popular with women past twenty-five. talk to a mother about her children. women are never tired of hearing of themselves and their children. if you go to a house where there are children you should take especial care to conciliate their good will by a little manly _tete-a-tete,_ otherwise you may get a ball against your skins, or be tumbled from a three-legged chair. to be able to converse with women you must study their vocabulary. you would make a great mistake in interpreting _never, forever,_ as they are explained in johnson. do not be for ever telling a woman that she is handsome, witty, etc. she knows that a vast deal better than you do. do not allow your love for one woman to prevent your paying attention to others. the object of your love is the only one who ought to perceive it. a little pride, which reminds you what is due to yourself, and a little good nature, which suggests what is due to others, are the pre-requisites for the moral constitution of a gentleman. too much vivacity and too much inertness are both fatal to politeness. by the former we are hurried too far, by the latter we are kept too much back. _nil admirari,_ the precept of stoicism, is the precept for conduct among gentlemen. all excitement must be studiously avoided. when you are with ladies the case is different. among them, wonder, astonishment, ecstacy, and enthusiasm, are necessary in order to be believed. never dispute in the presence of other persons. if a man states an opinion which you cannot adopt, say nothing. if he states a fact which is of little importance, you may carelessly assent. when you differ let it be indirectly; rather a want of assent than actual dissent. if you wish to inquire about anything, do not do it by asking a question; but introduce the subject, and give the person an opportunity of saying as much as he finds it agreeable to impart. do not even say, "how is your brother to-day?" but "i hope your brother is quite well." never ask a lady a question about anything whatever. it is a point of courtly etiquette which is observed rigorously by every one who draws nigh, that a question must never be put to a king. never ask a question about the price of a thing. this horrible error is often committed by a _nouveau riche._ if you have accepted an invitation to a party never fail to keep your promise. it is cruel to the lady of the house to accept, and then send an apology at the last moment. especially do not break your word on account of bad weather. you may be certain that many others will, and the inciter will be mortified by the paucity of her guests. a cloak and a carriage will secure you from all inconvenience, and you will be conferring a real benefit. chapter v. the entrance into society. women, particularly women a little on the decline, are those who make the reputation of a young man. when the lustre of their distinction begins to fade, a slight feeling of less wonted leisure, perhaps a little spite, makes them observe attentively those who surround them. eager to gain new admirers, they encourage the first steps of a _debutant_ in the career of society, and exert themselves to fit him to do honour to their patronage. a young man, therefore, in entering the world, cannot be too attentive to conciliate the goodwill of women. their approbation and support will serve him instead of a thousand good qualities. their judgment dispenses with fortune, talent, and even intelligence. "les hommes font les lois: les femmes font les reputations." the desire of pleasing is, of course, the basis of social connexion. persons who enter society with the intention of producing an effect, and of being distinguished, however clever they may be, are never agreeable. they are always tiresome, and often ridiculous. persons, who enter life with such pretensions, have no opportunity for improving themselves and profiting by experience. they are not in a proper state to _observe_: indeed, they look only for the effect which they produce, and with that they are not often gratified. they thrust themselves into all conversations, indulge in continual anecdotes, which are varied only by dull disquisitions, listen to others with impatience and heedlessness, and are angry that they seem to be attending to themselves. such men go through scenes of pleasure, enjoying nothing. they are equally disagreeable to themselves and others. young men should, therefore, content themselves with being natural. let them present themselves with a modest assurance: let them observe, hear, and examine, and before long they will rival their models. the conversation of those women who are not the most lavishly supplied with personal beauty, will be of the most advantage to the young aspirant. such persons have cultivated their manners and conversation more than those who can rely upon their natural endowments. the absence of pride and pretension has improved their good nature and their affability. they are not too much occupied in contemplating their own charms, to be disposed to indulge in gentle criticism on others. one acquires from them an elegance in one's manners as well as one's expressions. their kindness pardons every error, and to instruct or reprove, their acts are so delicate that the lesson which they give, always without offending, is sure to be profitable, though it may be often unperceived. women observe all the delicacies of propriety in manners, and all the shades of impropriety, much better than men; not only because they attend to them earlier and longer, but because their perceptions are more refined than those of the other sex, who are habitually employed about greater things. women divine, rather than arrive at, proper conclusions. the whims and caprices of women in society should of course be tolerated by men, who themselves require toleration for greater inconveniences. but this must not be carried too far. there are certain limits to empire which, if they themselves forget, should be pointed out to them with delicacy and politeness. you should be the slave of women, but not of all their fancies. compliment is the language of intercourse from men to women. but be careful to avoid elaborate and common-place forms of gallant speech. do not strive to make those long eulogies on a woman, which have the regularity and nice dependency of a proposition in euclid, and might be fittingly concluded by q. e. d. do not be always undervaluing her rival in a woman's presence, nor mistaking a woman's daughter for her sister. these antiquated and exploded attempts denote a person who has learned the world more from books than men. the quality which a young man should most affect in intercourse with gentlemen, is a decent modesty: but he must avoid all bashfulness or timidity. his flights must not go too far; but, so far as they go, let them be marked by perfect assurance. among persons who are much your seniors behave with the utmost respectful deference. as they find themselves sliding out of importance they may be easily conciliated by a little respect. by far the most important thing to be attended to, is ease of manner. grace may be added afterwards, or be omitted altogether: it is of much less moment than is commonly believed. perfect propriety and entire ease are sufficient qualifications for standing in society, and abundant prerequisites for distinction. there is the most delicate shade of difference between civility and intrusiveness, familiarity and common-place, pleasantry and sharpness, the natural and the rude, gaiety and carelessness; hence the inconveniences of society, and the errors of its members. to define well in conduct these distinctions, is the great art of a man of the world. it is easy to know what to do; the difficulty is to know what to avoid. long usage--a sort of moral magnetism, a tact acquired by frequent and long associating with others--alone give those qualities which keep one always from error, and entitle him to the name of a thorough gentleman. a young man upon first entering into society should select those persons who are most celebrated for the propriety and elegance of their manners. he should frequent their company and imitate their conduct. there is a disposition inherent, in all, which has been noticed by horace and by dr. johnson, to imitate faults, because they are more readily observed and more easily followed. there are, also, many foibles of manner and many refinements of affectation, which sit agreeably upon one man, which if adopted by another would become unpleasant. there are even some excellences of deportment which would not suit another whose character is different. for successful imitation in anything, good sense is indispensable. it is requisite correctly to appreciate the natural differences between your model and yourself, and to introduce such modifications in the copy as may be consistent with it. let not any man imagine, that he shall easily acquire these qualities which will constitute him a gentleman. it is necessary not only to exert the highest degree of art, but to attain also that higher accomplishment of concealing art. the serene and elevated dignity which mark that character, are the result of untiring and arduous effort. after the sculpture has attained the shape of propriety, it remains to smooth off all the marks of the chisel. "a gentleman," says a celebrated french author, "is one who has reflected deeply upon all the obligations which belong to his station, and who has applied himself ardently to fulfil them with grace." polite without importunity, gallant without being offensive, attentive to the comfort of all; employing a well-regulated kindness, witty at the proper times, discreet, indulgent, generous, he exercises, in his sphere, a high degree of moral authority; he it is, and he alone, that one should imitate. chapter vi. letters. always remember that the terms of compliment at the close of a letter--"i have the honour to be your very obedient servant," etc. are merely forms--"signifying nothing." do not therefore avoid them on account of pride, or a dislike to the person addressed. do not presume, as some do, to found expectations of favour or promotion from great men who profess themselves your obliged servant. in writing a letter of business it is extremely vulgar to use satin or glazed gold-edged paper. always employ, on such occasions, plain american paper. place the date at the top of the page, and if you please, the name of the person at the top also, just above the 'sir;' though this last is indifferent. in letters to gentlemen always place the date at the end of the letter, below his name. use the best paper, but not figured, and never fail to enclose it in an envelope. attention to these matters is indispensable. to a person whom you do not know well, say sir, not 'dear sir.' it formerly was usual in writing to a distinguished man to employ the form 'respected sir,' or something of the kind. this is now out of fashion. there are a great many forms observed by the french in their letters, which are necessary to be known before addressing one of that nation. you will find them in their books upon such subjects, or learn them from your french master. one custom of theirs is worthy of adoption among us: to proportion the distance between the 'sir' and the first line of the letter, to the rank of the person to whom you write. among the french to neglect attending to this would give mortal offence. it obtains also in other european nations. when the duke of buckingham was at the court of spain, some letters passed between the spanish minister olivez and himself,--the two proudest men on earth. the spaniard wrote a letter to the englishman, and put the 'monsieur' on a line with the beginning of his letter. the other, in his reply, placed the 'monsieur' a little below it. a note of invitation or reply is always to be enclosed in an envelope. wafers are now entirely exploded. a letter of business is sealed with red wax, and marked with some common stamp. letters to gentlemen demand red wax sealed with your arms. in notes to ladies employ coloured wax, but not perfumed. chapter vii. visits. of visits there are various sorts; visits of congratulation, visits of condolence, visits of ceremony, visits of friendship. to each belong different customs. a visit and an insult must be always returned. visits of ceremony should be very short. go at some time when business demands the employment of every moment. in visits of friendship adopt a different course. if you call to see an acquaintance at lodgings, and cannot find any one to announce you, you knock very lightly at the door, and wait some time before entering. if you are in too great a hurry, you might find the person drawing off a night- cap. respectable visitors should be received and treated with the utmost courtesy. but if a tiresome fellow, after wearying all his friends, becomes weary of himself, and arrives to bestow his tediousness upon you, pull out your watch with restlessness, talk about your great occupations and the value of time. politeness is one thing; to be made a convenience of is another. the style of your conversation should always be in keeping with the character of the visit. you must not talk about literature in a visit of condolence, nor about political economy in a visit of ceremony. when a lady visits you, upon her retiring, you offer her your arm, and conduct her to her carriage. if you are visiting at the same time with another lady, you should take leave at the same time, and hand her into her carriage. after a hall, a dinner, or a concert, you visit during the week. pay the first visit to a friend just returned from a voyage. annual visits are paid to persons with whom you have a cool acquaintance, they visit you in the autumn, you return a card in the spring. in paying a visit under ordinary circumstances, you leave a single card. if there be residing in the family, a married daughter, an unmarried sister, a transient guest, or any person in a distinct situation from the mistress of the house, you leave two cards, one for each party. if you are acquainted with only one member of a family, as the husband, or the wife, and you wish to indicate that your visit is to both, you leave two cards. ladies have a fashion of pinching down one corner of a card to denote that the visit is to only one of two parties in a house, and two corners, or one side of the card, when the visit is to both; but this is a transient mode, and of dubious respectability. if, in paying a morning visit, you are not recognized when you enter, mention your name immediately. if you call to visit one member, and you find others only in the parlour, introduce yourself to them. much awkwardness may occur through defect of attention to this point. when a gentleman is about to be married, he sends cards, a day or two before the event, to all whom he is in the habit of visiting. these visits are never paid in person, but the cards sent by a servant, at any hour in the morning; or the gentleman goes in a carriage, and sends them in. after marriage, some day is appointed and made known to all, as the day on which he receives company. his friends then all call upon him. would that this also were performed by cards! chapter viii. appointments and punctuality. when you make an appointment, always be exact in observing it. in some places, and on some occasions, a quarter of an hour's _grace_ is given. this depends on custom, and it is always better not to avail yourself of it. in philadelphia it is necessary to be punctual to a second, for there everybody breathes by the state-house clock if you make an appointment to meet anywhere, your body must be in a right line with the frame of the door at the instant the first stroke of the great clock sounds. if you are a moment later, your character is gone. it is useless to plead the evidence of your watch, or detention by a friend. you read your condemnation in the action of the old fellows who, with polite regard to your feelings, simultaneously pull out their vast chronometers, as you enter. the tardy man is worse off than the murderer. _he_ may be pardoned by one person, (the governor); the unpunctual is pardoned by none. _haud inexpectus loquor._ if you make an appointment with another at your own house, you should be invisible to the rest of the world, and consecrate your time solely to him. if you make an appointment with a lady, especially if it be upon a promenade, or other public place, you must be there a little before the time. if you accept an appointment at the house of a public officer, or a man of business, be very punctual, transact the affair with despatch, and retire the moment it is finished. chapter ix. dinner. the hour of dinner has been said, by dr. johnson, to be the most important hour in civilized life. the etiquette of the dinner-table has a prominence commensurate with the dignity of the ceremony. like the historian of peter bell, we commence at the commencement, and thence proceed to the moment when you take leave officially, or vanish unseen. in order to dine, the first requisite is--to be invited. the length of time which the invitation precedes the dinner is always proportioned to the grandeur of the occasion, and varies from two days to two weeks. to an invitation received less than two days in advance, you will lose little by replying in the negative, for as it was probably sent as soon as the preparations of the host commenced, you may be sure that there will be little on the table fit to eat. those abominations, y'clept "plain family dinners," eschew like the plague. you reply to a note of invitation immediately, and in the most direct and unequivocal terms. if you accept, you arrive at the house rigorously at the hour specified. it is equally inconvenient to be too late and to be too early. if you fall into the latter error, you find every thing in disorder; the master of the house is in his dressing-room, changing his waistcoat; the lady is still in the pantry; the fire not yet lighted in the parlour. if by accident or thoughtlessness you arrive too soon, you may pretend that you called to inquire the exact hour at which they dine, having mislaid the note, and then retire to walk for an appetite. if you are too late, the evil is still greater, and indeed almost without a remedy. your delay spoils the dinner and destroys the appetite and temper of the guests; and you yourself are so much embarrassed at the inconvenience you have occasioned, that you commit a thousand errors at table. if you do not reach the house until dinner is served, you had better retire to a restaurateurs, and thence send an apology, and not interrupt the harmony of the courses by awkward excuses and cold acceptances. when the guests have all entered, and been presented to one another, if any delay occurs, the conversation should be of the lightest and least exciting kind; mere common-places about the weather and late arrivals. you should not amuse the company by animated relations of one person who has just cut his throat from ear to ear, or of another who, the evening before, was choked by a tough beef-steak and was buried that morning. when dinner is announced, the inviter rises and requests all to walk to the dining-room. he then leads the way, that they may not be at a loss to know whither they should proceed. each gentleman offers his arm to a lady, and they follow in solemn order. the great distinction now becomes evident between the host and the guests, which distinction it is the chief effort of good breeding to remove. to perform faultlessly the honours of the table, is one of the most difficult things in society: it might indeed be asserted without much fear of contradiction, that no man has as yet ever reached exact propriety in his office as host, has hit the mean between exerting himself too much and too little. his great business is to put every one entirely at his ease, to gratify all his desires, and make him, in a word, absolutely contented with men and things. to accomplish this, he must have the genius of tact to perceive, and the genius of finesse to execute; ease and frankness of manner; a knowledge of the world that nothing can surprise; a calmness of temper that nothing can disturb, and a kindness of disposition that can never be exhausted. when he receives others, he must be content to forget himself; he must relinquish all desire to shine, and even all attempts to please his guests by conversation, and rather, do all in his power to let them please one another. he behaves to them without agitation, without affectation; he pays attention without an air of protection; he encourages the timid, draws out the silent, and directs conversation without sustaining it himself. he who does not do all this, is wanting in his duty as host; he who does, is more than mortal. when all are seated, the gentleman at the head of the table sends soup to every one, from the pile of plates which stand at his right hand. he helps the person at his right hand first, and at his left next, and so through the whole. there are an immensity of petty usages at the dinner table, such as those mentioned in the story of the abb, delille and the abb, cossen in the introduction to this volume, which it would be trifling and tedious to enumerate hers, and which will be learned by an observing man after assisting at two or three dinners. you should never ask a gentleman or lady at the table to help you to any thing, but always apply to the servants. your first duty at the table is to attend to the wants of the lady who sits next to you, the second, to attend to your own. in performing the first, you should take care that the lady has all that she wishes, yet without appearing to direct your attention too much to her plate, for nothing is more ill-bred than to watch a person eating. if the lady be something of a _gourmande,_ and in ever-zealous pursuit of the aroma of the wing of a pigeon, should raise an unmanageable portion to her mouth, you should cease all conversation with her, and look steadfastly into the opposite part of the room. in france, a dish, after having been placed upon the table for approval, is removed by the servants, and carved at a sideboard, and after. wards handed to each in succession. this is extremely convenient, and worthy of acceptation in this country. but unfortunately it does not as yet prevail here. carving therefore becomes an indispensable branch of a gentleman's education. you should no more think of going to a dinner without a knowledge of this art, than you should think of going without your shoes. the gentleman of the house selects the various dishes in the order in which they should be cut, and invites some particular one to perform the office. it is excessively awkward to be obliged to decline, yet it is a thing too often occurring in,his country. when you carve, you should never rise from your seat. some persons, in helping their guests, or recommending dishes to their taste, preface every such action with an eulogy on its merits, and draw every bottle of wine with an account of its virtues. others, running into the contrary extreme, regret or fear that each dish is not exactly as it should be; that the cook, etc., etc. both of these habits are grievous errors. you should leave it to your guests alone to approve, or suffer one of your intimate friends who is present, to vaunt your wine. when you draw a bottle, merely state its age and brand, and of what particular vintage it is. do not insist upon your guests partaking of particular dishes, never ask persons more than once, and never put anything by force upon their plates. it is extremely ill- bred, though extremely common, to press one to eat of anything. you should do all that you can to make your guests feel themselves at home, which they never can do while you are so constantly forcing upon their minds the recollection of the difference between yourself and them. you should never send away your own plate until all your guests have finished. before the cloth is removed you do not drink wine unless with another. if you are asked to take wine it is uncivil to refuse. when you drink with another, you catch the person's eye and bow with politeness. it is not necessary to say anything, but smile with an air of great kindness. some one who sits near the lady of the house, should, immediately upon the removal of the soup, request the honor of drinking wine with her, which movement is the signal for all the others. if this is not done, the master of the house should select some lady. _he_ never asks gentlemen, but they ask him; this is a refined custom, attended to in the best company. if you have drunk with every one at the table, and wish more wine, you must wait till the cloth is removed. the decanter is then sent round from the head of the table, each person fills his glass, and all the company drinks the health of all the company. it is enough if you bow to the master and mistress of the house, and to your opposite neighbour. after this the ladies retire. some one rises to open the door for them, and they go into the parlour, the gentlemen remaining to drink more wine. after the ladies have retired, the service of the decanters is done. the host draws the bottles which have been standing in a wine cooler since the commencement of the dinner. the bottle goes down the left side and up the right, and the same bottle never passes twice. if you do not drink, always pass the bottle to your neighbour. at dinner never call for ale or porter; it is coarse, and injures the taste for wine. it was formerly the custom to drink _porter_ with cheese. one of the few real improvements introduced by the "napoleon of the realms of fashion" was to banish this tavern liquor and substitute _port._ the dictum of brummell was thus enunciated: "a gentleman never _malts,_ he _ports._" a gentleman should always express his preference for some one sort of wine over others; because, as there is always a natural preference for one kind, if you say that you are indifferent, you show that you are not accustomed to drink wines. your preference should not of course be guided by your real disposition; if you are afflicted by nature with a partiality for port, you should never think of indulging it except in your closet with your chamber-door locked. the only index of choice is fashion;--either permanent fashion (if the phrase may be used), or some temporary fashion created by the custom of any individual who happens to rule for a season in society. port was drunk by our ancestors, but george the fourth, upon his accession to the regency, announced his royal preference for sherry. it has since been fashionable to like sherry. this is what we call a _permanent_ fashion. champagne wine is drunk after the removal of the first cloth; that is to say, between the meats and the dessert. one servant goes round and places before each guest a proper- shaped glass; another follows and fills them, and they are immediately drunk. sometimes this is done twice in succession. the bottle does not again make its appearance, and it would excite a stare to ask at a later period for a glass of champagne wine. if you should happen to be blessed with those rely nuisances, children, and should be entertaining company, never allow them to be brought in after dinner, unless they are particularly asked for, and even then it is better to say they are at school. some persons, with the intention of paying their court to the father, express great desire to see the sons; but they should have some mercy upon the rest of the party, particularly as they know that they themselves would be the most disturbed of all, if their urgent entreaty was granted. never at any time, whether at a formal or a familiar dinner party, commit the impropriety of talking to a servant: nor ever address any remark about one of them to one of the party. nothing can be more ill-bred. you merely ask for what you want in a grave and civil tone, and wait with patience till your order is obeyed. it is a piece of refined coarseness to employ the fingers instead of the fork to effect certain operations at the dinner table, and on some other similar occasions. to know how and when to follow the fashion of eden, and when that of more civilized life, is one of the many points which distinguish a gentleman from one not a gentleman; or rather, in this case, which shows the difference between a man of the world, and one who has not "the tune of the time."* cardinal richelieu detected an adventurer who passed himself off for a nobleman, by his helping himself to olives with a fork. he might have applied the test to a vast many other things. yet, on the other hand, a gentleman would lose his reputation, if he were to take up a piece of sugar with his fingers and not with the sugar-tongs. * shakspeare it is of course needless to say that your own knife should never be brought near to the butter, or salt, or to a dish of any kind. if, however, a gentleman should send his plate for anything near you, and a knife cannot be obtained immediately, you may skillfully avoid all censure by using _his_ knife to procure it. when you send your plate for anything, you leave your knife and fork upon it, crossed. when you have done, you lay both in parallel lines on one side. a render who occupies himself about greater matters, may smile at this precept. it may, indeed, be very absurd, yet such is the tyranny of custom, that if you were to cross your knife and fork when you have finished, the most reasonable and strong-minded man at the table could not help setting you down, in his own mind, as a low-bred person. _magis sequor quam probo._ the chief matter of consideration at the dinner table, as indeed everywhere else in the life of a gentleman, is to be perfectly composed and at his ease. he speaks deliberately, he performs the most important act of the day as if he were performing the most ordinary. yet there is no appearance of trifling or want of gravity in his manner; he maintains the dignity which is becoming on so vital an occasion. he performs all the ceremonies, yet in the style of one who performs no _ceremony_ at all. he goes through all the complicated duties of the scene, as if he were "to the manner born." some persons, who cannot draw the nice distinction between too much and too little, desiring to be particularly respectable, make a point of appearing unconcerned and quite indifferent to enjoyment at dinner. such conduct not only exhibits a want of sense and a profane levity, but is in the highest degree rude to your obliging host. he has taken a great deal of trouble to give you pleasure, and it is your business to be, or at least to appear, pleased. it is one thing, indeed, to stare and wonder, and to ask for all the delicacies on the table in the style of a person who had lived all his life behind a counter, but it is quite another to throw into your manner the spirit and gratified air of a man who is indeed not unused to such matters, but who yet esteems them at their fall value. when the duke of wellington was at paris, as commander of the allied armies, he was invited to dine with cambaceres, one of the most distinguished statesmen and _gourmands_ of the time of napoleon. in the course of the dinner, his host having helped him to some particularly _recherche_ dish, expressed a hope that he found it agreeable. "very good," said the hero of waterloo, who was probably speculating upon what he would have done if blucher had not come up: "very good; but i really do not care what i eat." "good god!" exclaimed cambaceres,--as he started back and dropped his fork, quite "frighted from his propriety,"--"don't care what you eat! what _did_ you come here for, then?" after the wine is finished, you retire to the drawing-room, where the ladies are assembled; the master of the house rising first from the table, but going out of the room last. if you wish to go before this, you must vanish unseen. we conclude this chapter by a word of important counsel to the host:--never make an apology. chapter x. travelling. it is an extremely difficult affair to travel in a coach, with perfect propriety. ten to one the person next to you is an english nobleman _incognito_; and a hundred to one, the man opposite to you is a brute or a knave. to behave so that you may not be uncivil to the one, nor a dupe to the other, is an art of some niceness. as the seats are assigned to passengers in the order in which they are booked, you should send to have your place taken a day or two before the journey, so that you may be certain of a back seat. it is also advisable to arrive at the place of departure early, so that you assume your place without dispute. when women appear at the door of the coach to obtain admittance, it is a matter of some question to know exactly what conduct it is necessary to pursue. if the women are servants, or persons in a low rank of life, i do not see upon what ground of politeness or decency you are called upon to yield your seat. _etiquette,_ and the deference due to ladies have, of course, no operation in the case of such persons. chivalry--(and the gentleman is the legitimate descendant of the knight of old)--was ever a devotion to rank rather than to sex. don quixotte, or sir piercy shafestone would not willingly have given place to servant girls. and upon considerations of humanity and regard to weakness, the case is no stronger. such people have nerves considerably more robust than you have, and are quite as capable of riding backwards, or the top, as yourself. the only reason for _politeness_ in the case is, that perhaps the other passengers are of the same standing with the women, and might eject you from the window if you refuse to give place. if _ladies_ enter--and a gentleman distinguishes them in an instant--the case is altered. the sooner you move the better is it for yourself, since the rest will in the end have to concede, and you will give yourself a reputation among the party and secure a better seat, by rising at once. the principle that guides you in society is politeness; that which guides you in a coach is good humour. you lay aside all attention to form, and all strife after effect, and take instead, kindness of disposition and a willingness to please. you pay a constant regard to the comfort of your. fellow- prisoners. you take care not to lean upon the shoulder of your neighbour when you sleep. you are attentive not to make the stage wait for you at the stopping-places. when the ladies get out, you offer them your arm, and you do the same when the coachman is driving rapidly over a rough place. you should make all the accommodations to others, which you can do consistently with your own convenience; for, after all, the individuals are each like little nations; and as, in the one case, the first duty is to your country, so in the other, the first duty is to yourself. some surly creatures, upon entering a coach, wrap about their persons a great coat of cloth, and about their minds a mantle of silence, which are not thrown off during the whole journey. this is doing more harm to themselves than to others. you should make a point of conversing with an appearance of entire freedom, though with real reserve, with all those who are so disposed. one purpose and pleasure of travelling is to gain information, and to observe the various characters of persons. you will be asked by others about the road you passed over, and it will be awkward if you can give no account of it. converse, therefore, with all. relate amusing stories, chiefly of other countries, and even of other times, so as not to offend any one. if engaged in discussion--and a coach is almost the only place where discussion should _not_ be avoided--state facts and arguments rather than opinions. never answer impudent questions-and never ask them. at the meals which occur during a journey, you see beautiful exemplification of the _dictum_ of hobbes, "that war is the natural state of man." the entire scene is one of unintermitted war of every person with every other person, with the viands, and with good manners. you open your mouth only to admit edibles and to bellow to the waiters. your sole object is yourself. you drink wine without asking your neighbour to join you; and if he should be so silly as to ask you to hand him some specified dish, you blandly comply; but in the passage to him, you transfer the whole of its contents to your own plate. there is no halving in these matters. rapacity, roaring, and rapidity are the three requisites for dining during a journey. when you have resumed your seat in the coach, you are as bland as a morning in spring. never assume any unreal importance in a stage-coach, founded on the ignorance of your fellows, and their inability to detect it. it is excessively absurd, and can only gratify a momentary and foolish vanity; for, whenever you might make use of your importance, you would probably be at once discovered. there is an admirable paper upon this point in one of johnson's adventurers. the friendship which has subsisted between travellers terminates with the journey. when you get out, a word, a bow, and the most unpleasant act of life is finished and forgotten. chapter xi. balls. invitations to a ball should be issued at least ten days in advance, in order to give an opportunity to the men to clear away engagements; and to women, time to prepare the artillery of their toilet. cards of invitation should be sent--not notes. upon the entrance of ladies, or persons entitled to deference, the master of the house precedes them across the room: he addresses compliments to them, and will lose his life to procure them seats. while dancing with a lady whom you have never seen before, you should not talk to her much. the master of the ceremonies must take care that every lady dances, and press into service for that purpose these young gentlemen who are hanging round the room like fossils. if desired by him to dance with a particular lady you should refuse on no account. if you have no ear, that is, a false one, never dance. to usurp the seat of a person who is dancing is the height of incivility. never go to a public ball. chapter xii. funerals. when any member of a family is dead, it is customary to send intelligence of the misfortune to all who have been connected with the deceased in relations of business or friendship. the letters which are sent contain a special invitation to assist at the funeral. an invitation of this sort should never he refused, though, of course, you do not send a reply, for no other reason that i know of, excepting the impossibility of framing any formula of acceptance. you render yourself at the house an hour or two after the time specified. if you were to sit long in the mournful circle you might be rendered unfit for doing any thing for a week. your dress is black, and during the time of waiting you compose your visage into a "tristful 'haviour," and lean in silent solemnity upon the top of your cane, thinking about-- last night's party. this is a necessary hypocrisy, and assists marvellously the sadness of the ceremony. you walk in a procession with the others, your carriage following in the street. the first places are yielded to the relations of the deceased. the coffins of persons of distinction are carried in the hands of bearers, who walk with their hats off. you walk with another, in seemly order, and converse in a low tone; first upon the property of the defunct, and next upon the politics of the day. you walk with the others into the church, where service is said over the body. it is optional to go to the grave or not. when you go away, you enter your carriage and return to your business or your pleasures. a funeral in the morning, a ball in the evening,"--so runs the world away." chapter xiii. servants. servants are a necessary evil. he who shall contrive to obviate their necessity, or remove their inconveniences, will render to human comfort a greater benefit than has yet been conferred by all the useful-knowledge societies of the age. they are domestic spies, who continually embarrass the intercourse of the members of a family, or possess themselves of private information that renders their presence hateful, and their absence dangerous. it is a rare thing to see persons who are not controlled by their servants. theirs, too, is not the only kitchen cabinet which begins by serving and ends by ruling. if we judge from the frequency and inconvenience of an opposite course, we should say that the most important precept to be observed is, never to be afraid of your servants. we have known many ladies who, without any reason in the world, lived in a state of perfect subjugation to their servants, who were afraid to give a direction, and who submitted to disobedience and insult, where no danger could be apprehended from discharging them. if a servant offends you by any trifling or occasional omission of duty, reprove the fault with mild severity; if the error be repeated often, and be of a gross description, never hesitate, but discharge the servant instantly, without any altercation of language. you cannot easily find another who will serve you worse. as for those precautions which are ordinarily taken, to secure the procurence of good servants, they are, without exception, utterly useless. the author of the rambler has remarked, that a written _character_ of a servant is worth about as much as a discharge from the old bailey. i never, but once, took any trouble to inquire what reputation a servant had held in former situations. on that occasion, i heard that i had engaged the very shakespeare of menials,-- aristides was not more honest,--zeno more truth-telling,--nor abdiel more faithful. this fellow, after insulting me daily for a week, disappeared with my watch and three pair of boots. those offices which profess to recommend good domestics, are "bosh,--nothing." in nine cases out of ten, the keepers are in league with the servants; and in the tenth, ignorance, dishonesty, or carelessness will prevent any benefit resulting from,their "intelligence." all that you can do is, to take the most decent creature who applies; trust in providence, and lock every thing up. never speak harshly, or superciliously, or hastily to a servant. there are many little actions which distinguish, to the eye of the most careless observer, a gentleman from one not a gentleman; but there is none more striking than the manner of addressing a servant. issue your commands with gravity and gentleness, and in a reserved manner. let your voice be composed, but avoid a tone of familiarity or sympathy with them. it is better in addressing them to use a higher key of voice, and not to suffer it to fall at the end of a sentence. the best bred man whom we ever had the pleasure of meeting, always employed, in addressing servants, such forms of speech as these--"i'll thank you for so and so,"--" such a thing, if you please,"--with a gentle tone, but very elevated key. the perfection of manner, in this particular, is, to indicate by your language, that the performance is a favour, and by your tone that it is a matter of course. while, however, you practise the utmost mildness and forbearance in your language, avoid the dangerous and common error of exercising too great humanity in action. no servant, from the time of the first gibeonite downwards, has ever had too much labour imposed upon him; while thousands have been ruined by the mistaken kindness of their masters. servants should always be allowed, and indeed directed, to go to church on sunday afternoon. for this purpose, dinner is served earlier on that day than usual. if it can be accomplished, the servants should be induced to attend the same church as the family with whom they live; because there may be reason to fear that if they profess to go elsewhere, they may not go to church at all; and the habit of wandering about the streets with idlers, will speedily ruin the best servant that ever stood behind a chair. servants should be directed to announce visitors. this is always done abroad, and is a convenient custom. never allow a female servant to enter a parlour. if all the male domestics are gone out, it is better that there should be no attendance at all. some ladies are in the habit of amusing their friends with accounts of the difficulty of getting good servants, etc. this denotes decided ill breeding. such subjects should never be made topics of conversation. if a servant offends you by any grossness of conduct, never rebuke the offence upon the spot, nor indeed notice it at all at the time; for you cannot do it without anger, and without giving rise to a _scene._ prince puckler muskaw was, very properly, turned out of the travellers' club for throwing a fork at one of the waiters. in the house of another, or when there is any company present in your own, never converse with the servants. this most vulgar, but not uncommon, habit, is judiciously censured in that best of novels,--the zeluco of dr. moore. chapter xiv. fashion. fashion is a tyranny founded only on assumption. the principle upon which its influence rests, is one deeply based in the human heart, and one which has long been observed and long practised upon in every department of life. in the literary, the religious, and the political world, it has been an assured and very profitable conclusion, that the public, "like women, born to be controlled, stoops to the forward and the bold." "qui sibi fidit, dux regit examen," is a maxim of universal truth. pococurante, in candide, was admired for despising homer and michel angelo; he would have gained little distinction by praising them. the judicious application of this rule to society, is the origin of fashion. in despair of attaining greatness of quality, it founds its distinction only on peculiarity. we have spoken elsewhere of those complex and very rare accomplishments, whose union is requisite to constitute a gentleman. we know of but one quality which is demanded for a man of fashion,--impudence. an impudence (self-confidence "the wise it call") as impenetrable as the gates of pandemonium--a coolness and imperturbability of self- admiration, which the boaster in spencer might envy--a contempt of every decency, as such, and an utter imperviousness to ridicule,--these are the amiable and dignified qualities which serve to rear an empire over the weakness and cowardice of men. to define the character of that which is changing even while we survey it, is a task of no small difficulty. we imagine that there is only one means by which it may be always described, viz., that it consists in an entire avoidance of all that is natural and rational. its essence is affectation; effeminacy takes the place of manliness; drawling stupidity, of wit; stiffness and hauteur, of ease and civility; and self-illustration, of a decent and respectful regard to others. a man of fashion must never allow himself to be pleased. nothing is more decidedly _de mauvais ton_ than any expression of delight. he must never laugh, nor, unless his penetration is very great, must he even smile; for he might by ignorance smile at the wrong place or time. all real emotion is to be avoided; all sympathy with the great or the beautiful is to be shunned; yet the liveliest feeling may be exhibited upon the death of a poodle-dog. at the house of an acquaintance, he must never praise, nor even look, at the pictures, the carpets, the curtains, or the ottomans, because if he did, it might be supposed that he was not accustomed to such things. about two years ago, it began to be considered improper to pay compliments to women, because if they are not paid gracefully they are awkward, and to pay them gracefully is difficult. at the present time it is considered dangerous to a man's pretensions to fashion, in england, to speak to women at all. women are voted bores, and are to be treated with refined rudeness. there is no possible system of manners that will serve to exhibit at once the uncivility and the high refinement which should characterize the man of fashion. he must therefore have no manners at all. he must behave with tame and passive insolence, never breaking into active effrontery excepting towards unprotected women and clergymen. persons of no importance he does not see, and is not conscious of their existence; those who have the same standing, he treats with easy scorn, and he acknowledges the distinction of superiors only by patronizing and protecting them. a man of fashion does not despise wealth; he cannot but think _that_ valuable which procures to others the honour of paying for his suppers. fashion is so completely distinguished from good breeding, that it is even opposed to it. it is in fact a system of refined vulgarity. what, for example can be more vulgar than incessantly _talkin_g about forms and customs? about silver forks and french soup? a gentleman follows these conventional habits; but he follows them as matters of course. he looks upon them as the ordinary and essential customs of refined society. french forks are to him things as indispensable as a table-cloth; and he thinks it as unnecessary to insist upon the one as upon the other. if he sees a person who eats with his knife, he concludes that that person is ignorant of the usages of the world, but he does not shriek and faint away like a bond-street dandy. if he dines at a table where there are no silver forks, he eats his dinner in perfect propriety with steel, and exhibits, neither by manner nor by speech, that he perceives any error. to be sure, he forms his own opinion about the rank of his entertainer, but he leaves it to such new-made gentry as mr. theodore hook, in his vulgar fashionable novels, to harangue about such delinquencies. the vulgarity of insisting upon these matters is scarcely less offensive than the vulgarity of neglecting them. lady frances pelham is but one remove better than a brancton. a man of fashion never goes to the theatre; he is waiting for the opera. he, of course, goes out of town in the summer; or, if he cannot afford to do so, he merely closes his window-shutters, and appears to be gone. fashion makes all great things little, and all little things great. it is commonly said, that it requires more wit to perform the part of the fool in a farce than that of the master. without intending any offence to the fool by the comparison, we may remark, that qualities of an elevated character are required for the support of the _rol_e of a man of fashion in the solemn farce of life. he must have invention, to vary his absurdities when they cease to be striking; he must have wit enough to obtain the reputation of a great deal more; and he must possess tact to know when and where to crouch, and where and when to insult. brummel, whose career is one of the most extraordinary on record, must have exercised, during the period of his social reign, many qualities of conduct which rank among the highest endowments of our race. for an obscure individual, without fortune or rank, to have conceived the idea of placing himself at the head of society in a country the most thoroughly aristocratic in europe, relying too upon no other weapon than well-directed insolence; for the same individual to have triumphed splendidly over the highest and the mightiest--to have maintained a contest with royalty itself, and to have come off victorious even in that struggle--for such an one no ordinary faculties must have been demanded. of the sayings of brummel which have been preserved, it is difficult to distinguish whether they contain real wit, or are only so sublimely and so absurdly impudent that they look like witty. we add here a few anecdotes of brummel, which will serve to show, better than any precepts, the style of conduct which a man of fashion may pursue. when brummel was at the height of his power, he was once, in the company of some gentlemen, speaking of the prince of wales as a very good sort of man, who behaved himself very decently, _considering circumstances_; some one present offered a wager that he would not dare to give a direction to this very good sort of man. brummel looked astonished at the remark, and declined accepting a wager upon such point. they happened to be dining with the regent the next-day, and after being pretty well fortified. with wine, brummel interrupted a remark of the prince's, by exclaiming very mildly and naturally, "wales, ring the bell!" his royal highness immediately obeyed the command, and when the servant entered, said to him, with the utmost coolness and firmness, "show mr. brummel to his carriage." the dandy was not in the least dejected by his expulsion; but meeting the prince regent, walking with a gentleman, the next day in the street, he did not bow to him, but stopping the other, drew him aside and said, in a loud whisper, "who is that fat friend of ours?" it must be remembered that the object of this sarcasm was at that time exceedingly annoyed by his increasing corpulency; so manifestly so, that sheridan remarked, that "though the regent professed himself a whig, he believed that in his heart he was no friend to _new measures._" shortly after this occurrence at carlton-house, brummel remarked to one of his friends, that "he had half a mind to cut the young one, and bring old george into fashion." in describing a short visit which he had paid to a nobleman in the country, he said, that he had only carried with him a night-cap and a silver basin to spit in, "because, you know, it is utterly impossible to spit in clay." brummel was once present at a party to which he had not been invited. after he had been some time in the room, the gentleman of the house, willing to mortify him, went up to him and said that he believed that there must be some mistake, as he did not recollect having had the honour of sending him an invitation. "what is the name?" said the other very drawlingly, at the same time affecting to feel in his waistcoat pocket for a card. "johnson," replied the gentleman. "jauhnson?" said brummel, "oh! i remember now that the name was thaunson (thompson); and jauhnson and thaunson, thaunson and jauhnson, you know, are so much the same kind of thing." brummel was once asked how much a year he thought would be required to keep a single man in clothes. "why, with tolerable economy," said he, "i think it might be done for l ." he once went down to a gentleman's house in the country, without having been asked to do so. he was given to understand, the next morning, that his absence would be more agreeable, and he took his departure. some one having heard of his discomfiture, asked him how he liked the accommodations there. he replied coolly, that "it was a very decent house to spend a single night in." we have mentioned that this dreaded arbiter of modes had threatened that he would put the prince regent out of fashion. alas! for the peace of the british monarch, this was not an idle boast. his dangerous rival resolved in the unfathomable recesses of a mind capacious of such things, to commence and to carry on a war whose terror and grandeur should astound society, to administer to audacious royalty a lesson which should never be forgotten, and finally to retire, when retire he must, with mementos of his tremendous power around him, and with the mightiest of the earth at his feet. inventive and deliberate were the counsels which he meditated; sublime and resolute was the conduct he adopted. he decided, with an originality of genius to which the conqueror of marengo might have vailed, that the _neck_ of the foe was the point at which the first fatal shaft of his excommunicating ire should be hurled. with rapid and decisive energy he concentrated all his powers for instantaneous action. he retired for a day to the seclusion of solitude, to summon and to spur the energies of the most self-reliant mind in europe, as the lion draws back to gather courage for the leap. as, like the lion, he drew back; so, like the lion, did he spring forward upon his prey. at a ball given by the duchess of devonshire, when the whole assembly were conversing upon his supposed disgrace, and insulting by their malevolence one whom they had disgusted by their adulation, brummel suddenly stood in the midst of them. could it be indeed brummel? could it be mortal who thus appeared with such an encincture of radiant glory about his neck? every eye was upon him, fixed in stupid admiration; every tongue, as it slowly recovered from its speechless paralysis, faltered forth "what a cravat!" what a cravat indeed! hundreds that had, a moment before, exulted in unwonted freedom, bowed before it with the homage of servile adoration. what a cravat! there it stood; there was no doubting its entity, no believing it an illusion. there it stood, smooth and stiff, yet light and almost transparent; delicate as the music of ariel, yet firm as the spirit of regulus; bending with the grace of apollo's locks, yet erect with the majesty of the olympian jove: without a wrinkle, without an indentation. what a cravat! the regent "saw and shook;" and uttering a faint gurgle from beneath the wadded bag which surrounded his royal thorax, he was heard to whisper with dismay, "d--n him! what a cravat!" the triumph was complete. it is stated, upon what authority we know not, that his royal highness, after passing a sleepless night in vain conjectures, despatched at an early hour, one of his privy- counsellors to brummel, offering _carte blanche_ if he would disclose the secret of that mysterious cravat. but the "_atrox animus catonis_" disdained the bribe. he preferred being supplicated, to being bought, by kings. "go," said he to the messenger, with the spirit of marius mantling in his veins, "go, and tell _you_r master that you have seen _his_ master." for the truth of another anecdote, connected with this cravat, we have indisputable evidence. a young nobleman of distinguished talents and high pretensions as to fortune and rank, saw this fatal band, and eager to advance himself in the rolls of fashion, retired to his chamber to endeavour to penetrate the method of its construction. he tried every sort of known, and many sorts of unknown stiffeners to accomplish the end--paper and pasteboard, and wadding, shavings, and shingles, and planks,--all were vainly experienced. gargantua could not have exhibited a greater invention of expedients than he did; but vainly. after a fortnight of the closest application, ardour of study and anxiety of mind combined, brought him to the brink of the grave. his mother having ascertained the origin of his complaint, waited upon brummel, who was the only living man that could remove it. she implored him, by every human motive, to say but one word, to save the life of her son and prevent her own misery. but the tyrant was immoveable, and the young man expired a victim of his sternness. when, at length, yielding to that strong necessity which no man can control, brummel was obliged, like napoleon, to abdicate, the mystery of that mighty cravat was unfolded. there was found, after his departure to calais, written on sheet of paper upon his table, the following epigram of scorn: "starch is the man." the cravat of brummel was merely- -starched! henceforth starch was introduced into every cravat in europe. brummel still lives, an obscure consul in a petty european town. physically there is something to command our admiration in the history of a man who thus lays at his mercy all ranks of men,--the lofty and the low, the great, the powerful and the vain: but morally and seriously, no character is more despicable than that of the mere man of fashion, seeking nothing but notoriety, his path to that end is over the ruins of all that is worthy in our nature. he knows virtue only to despise it; he makes himself acquainted with human feelings only to outrage them. he commences his career beyond the limits of decency, and ends it far in the regions of infamy. feared by all and respected by none, hated by his worshippers and despised by himself, he rules,--an object of pity and contempt: and when his power is past, his existence is forgotten; he lives on in an, oblivion which is to him worse than death, and the stings of memory goad him to the grave. the devotee of fashion is a trifler unworthy of his race; the _mere_ gentleman is a character which may in time become somewhat tiresome; there is a just mean between the two, where a better conduct than either is to be found. it is that of a man who, yielding to others, still maintains his self- respect, and whose concessions to folly are controlled by good sense; who remembers the value of trifles without forgetting the importance of duties, and resolves so to regulate his conduct that neither others may be offended by his stiffness, nor himself have to regret his levity. live therefore among men--to conclude our homily after the manner of quarles--live therefore among men, like them, yet not disliking thyself; and let the hues of fashion be reflected from thee, but let them not enter and colour thee within. chapter viii. miscellaneous. there is nothing more ill bred in the world than continual talking about good breeding. you should never employ the word "_genteel_;" the proper word is "_respectable._" if you are walking down the street with another person on your arm, and stop to say something to one of your friends, do not commit the too common and most awkward error of introducing such persons to one another. never introduce morning visitors, who happen to meet in your parlour without being acquainted. if _you_ should be so introduced, remember that the acquaintance afterwards goes for nothing: you have not the slightest right to expect that the other should ever speak to you. if you wish to be introduced to a lady, you must always have her consent previously asked; this formality it is not necessary to observe in the case of gentlemen alone. presents are the gauge of friendship. they also serve to increase it, and give it permanence. among friends presents ought to be made of things of small value; or, if valuable, their worth should be derived from the style of the workmanship, or from some accidental circumstance, rather than from the inherent and solid richness. especially never offer to a lady a gift of great cost: it is in the highest degree indelicate, and looks as if you were desirous of placing her under an obligation to you, and of buying her good will. the gifts made by ladies to gentlemen are of the most refined nature possible: they should be little articles not purchased, but deriving a priceless value as being the offspring of their gentle skill; a little picture from their pencil, or a trifle from their needle. to persons much your superiors, or gentlemen whom you do not know intimately, there is but one species of appropriate present--game. if you make a present, and it is praised by the receiver, you should not yourself commence undervaluing it. if one is offered to you, always accept it; and however small it may be, receive it with civil and expressed thanks, without any kind of affectation. avoid all such deprecatory phrases, as "i fear i rob you," etc. to children, the only presents which you offer are sugar- plums and bon-bons. avoid the habit of employing french words in english conversation; it is in extremely bad taste to be always employing such expressions as _ci-devant,_ _soi-disant,_ _en masse,_ _couleur de rose,_ etc. do not salute your acquaintances with _bon jour,_ nor reply to every proposition, _volontiers._ in speaking of french cities and towns, it is a mark of refinement in education to pronounce them rigidly according to english rules of speech. mr. fox, the best french scholar, and one of the best bred men in england, always sounded the x in _bourdeaux,_ and the s in calais, and on all occasions pronounced such names just as they are written. in society, avoid having those peculiar preferences for some subjects, which are vulgarly denominated. "_hobby horses._" they make your company a _bore_ to all your friends; and some kind-hearted creature will take advantage of them and _trot_ you, for the amusement of the company. a certain degree of reserve, or the appearance of it, should be maintained in your intercourse with your most intimate friends. to ordinary acquaintances retain the utmost reserve- -never allowing them to read your feelings, not, on the other hand, attempting to take any liberties with them. familiarity of manner is the greatest vice of society. "ah! allow me, my dear fellow," says a rough voice, and at the same moment a thumb and finger are extended into my snuff-box, which, in removing their prey drop half of it upon my clothes,--i look up, and recognize a person to whom i was introduced by mistake last night at the opera. i would be glad to have less fellowship with such _fellows._ in former times great philosophers were said to have demons for familiars,--thereby indicating that a familiar man is the very devil. remember, that all deviations from prescribed forms, on common occasions, are vulgar; such as sending invitations, or replies, couched in some unusual forms of speech. always adhere to the immemorial phrase,--"mrs. x. requests the honour of mr, y.'s company," and "mr. y. has the honour of accepting mrs. x.'s polite invitation." never introduce persons with any outlandish or new-coined expressions; but perform the operation with mathematical precision--"mr. a., mr. a'; mr. a', mr. a." when two gentlemen are walking with a lady in the street, they should not be both upon the same side of her, but one of them should walk upon the outside and the other upon the inside. when you walk with a lady, even if the lady be young and unmarried, offer your arm to her. this is always done in france, and is practised in this country by the best bred persons. to be sure, this is done only to married women in france, because unmarried women never walk alone with gentlemen, but as in america the latter have the same freedom as the former, this custom should here be extended to them. if you are walking with a woman who has your arm, and you cross the street, it is better not to disengage your arm, and go round upon the outside. such effort evinces a palpable attention to form, and _that_ is always to be avoided. a woman should never take the arms of two men, one being upon either side; nor should a man carry a woman upon each arm. the latter of these iniquities is practised only in ireland; the former perhaps in kamskatcha. there are, to be sure, some cases in which it is necessary for the protection of the women, that they should both take his arm, as in coming home from a concert, or in passing, on any occasion, through a crowd. when you receive company in your own house, you should never be much dressed. this is a circumstance of the first importance in good breeding. a gentleman should never use perfumes; they are agreeable, however, upon ladies. avoid the use of proverbs in conversation, and all sorts of cant phrases. this error is, i believe, censured by lord chesterfield, and is one of the most offensively vulgar things which a person can commit. we have frequently been astonished to hear such a slang phrase as "the whole hog" used by persons who had pretensions to very superior standing. we would be disposed to apply to such an expression a criticism of dr. johnson's, which rivals it in coarseness: "it has not enough salt to keep it from stinking, enough wit to prevent its being offensive." we do not wish to advocate any false refinement, or to encourage any cockney delicacy: but we may be decent without being affected. the stable language and raft humour of crockett and downing may do very well to amuse one in a morning paper, but it exhibits little wit and less good sense to adopt them in the drawing-room. this matter should be "reformed altogether." if a plate be sent to you, at dinner, by the master or mistress of the house, you should always take it, without offering it to all your neighbours as was in older times considered necessary. the spirit of antique manners consisted in exhibiting an attention to ceremony; the spirit of modern manners consists in avoiding all possible appearance of form. the old custom of deferring punctiliously to others was awkward and inconvenient. for, the person, in favor of whom the courtesy was shown, shocked at the idea of being exceeded in politeness, of course declined it, and a plate was thus often kept vibrating between two bowing mandarins, till its contents were cold, and the victims of ceremony were deprived of their dinner. in a case like this, to reverse the decision which the host has made as to the relative standing of his guests, is but a poor compliment to him, as it seems to reprove his choice, and may, besides, materially interfere with his arrangements by rendering _unhelped_ a person whom he supposes attended to. the same avoidance of too much attention to yielding place is proper in most other cases. shenstone, in some clever verses, has ridiculed the folly; and goldsmith, in his "vicar," has censured the inconvenience, of such outrageous formality. these things are now managed better. one person yields and another accepts without any controversy. when you are helped to anything at a dinner table, do not wait, with your plate untouched, until others have begun to eat. this stiff-piece of mannerism is often occurring in the country, and indeed among all persons who are not thoroughly bred. as soon as your plate is placed before you, you should take up your knife and arrange the table furniture around you, if you do not actually eat. as to the instruments by which the operation of dining is conducted, it is a matter of much consequence that entire propriety should be observed as to their use. we have said nothing about the use of silver forks, because we do not write for savages; and where, excepting among savages, shall we find any who at present eat with other than a french fork?. there are occasionally to be found some ancients, gentlemen of the old school, as it is termed, who persist in preferring steel, and who will insist on calling for a steel fork if there is none on the table. they consider the modem custom an affectation, and deem that all affectation should be avoided. they tread upon the pride of plato, with more pride. there is often affectation in shunning affectation. it is better in things not material to submit to the established habits, especially when, as in the present case, the balance of convenience is decidedly on the part of fashion. the ordinary custom among well bred persons, is as follows:--soup is taken with a spoon. some foolish _fashionables_ employ a fork! they might as well make use of a broomstick. the fish which follows is eaten with a fork, a knife not being used at all. the fork is held in the right hand, and a piece of bread in the left. for any dish in which cutting is not indispensable, the same arrangement is correct. when you have upon your plate, before the dessert, anything partially liquid, or any sauces, you must not take them up with a knife, but with a piece of bread, which is to be saturated with the juices, and then lifted to the mouth. if such an article forms part of the dessert, you should eat it with a spoon. in carving, steel instruments alone are employed. for fowls a peculiar knife is used, having the blade short and the handle very long. for fish a broad and pierced silver blade is used. a dinner--we allude to _dinner-parties_--in this country, is generally despatched with too much hurry. we do not mean, that persons commonly eat too fast, but that the courses succeed one another too precipitately. dinner is the last operation of the day, and there is no subsequent business which demands haste. it is usually intended, especially when there are no ladies, to sit at the table till nine, ten, or eleven o'clock, and it is more agreeable that the _eating_ should be prolonged through a considerable portion of the entire time. the conveniences of digestion also require more deliberation, and it would therefore not be unpleasant if an interval of a quarter of an hour or half an hour were allowed to intervene between the meats and the dessert. at dinner, avoid taking upon your plate too many things at once. one variety of meat and one kind of vegetable is the _maximum._ when you take another sort of meat, or any dish not properly a vegetable, you always change your plate. the fashion of dining inordinately late in this country is foolish. it is borrowed from england without any regard to the difference in circumstances between the two nations. in london, the whole system of daily duties is much later. the fact of parliament's sitting during the evening and not in the morning, tends to remove the active part of the day to a much more advanced hour. when persons rise at ten or two o'clock, it is not to be expected that they should dine till eight or twelve in the evening. there is nothing of this sort in france. there they dine at three, or earlier. we have known some fashionable dinners in different cities in this country at so late an hour as eight or nine o'clock. this is absurd, where the persons have all breakfasted at eight in the morning. from four o'clock till five varies the proper hour for a dinner party here. never talk about politics at a dinner table or in a drawing room. when you are going into a company it is of advantage to run over in your mind, beforehand, the topics of conversation which you intend to bring up, and to arrange the manner in which you will introduce them. you may also refresh your general ideas upon the subjects, and run through the details of the few very brief and sprightly anecdotes which you are going to repeat; and also have in readiness one or two brilliant phrases or striking words which you will use upon occasion. further than this it is dangerous to make much preparation. if you commit to memory long speeches with the design of delivering them, your conversation will become formal, and you will be negligent of the observations of your company. it will tend also to impair that habit of readiness and quickness which it is necessary to cultivate in order to be agreeable. you must be very careful that you do not repeat the same anecdotes or let off the same good things twice to the same person. richard sharpe, the "conversationist" as he was called in london, kept a regular book of entry, in which he recorded where and before whom he had uttered severally his choice sayings. the celebrated bubb doddington prepared a manuscript book of original _faceti',_ which he was accustomed to read over when he expected any distinguished company, trusting to an excellent memory to preserve him from iteration. if you accompany your wife to a ball, be very careful not to dance with her. the lady who gives a ball dances but little, and always selects her partners. if you are visited by any company whom you wish to drive away forever, or any friends whom you wish to alienate, entertain them by reading to them your own productions. if you ask a lady to dance, and she is engaged, do not prefer a request for her hand at the next set after that, because she may be engaged for that also, and for many more; and you would have to run through a long list of interrogatories, which would be absurd and awkward. a gentleman must not expect to shine in society, even the most frivolous, without a considerable stock of knowledge. he must be acquainted with facts rather than principles. he needs no very sublime sciences; but a knowledge of biography and literary history, of the fine arts, as painting, engraving, music, etc., will be of great service to him. some men are always seen in the streets with an umbrella under their arm. such a foible may be permitted to such men as mr. southey and the duke of wellington: but in ordinary men it looks like affectation, and the monotony is exceedingly _boring_ to the sight. to applaud at a play is not _fashionable_; but it is _respectable_ to evince by a gentle concurrence of one finger and a hand that you perceive and enjoy a good stroke in an actor. if you are at a concert, or a private musical party, never beat time with your feet or your cane. nothing is more unpleasant. few things are more agreeable or more difficult, than to relate anecdotes with entire propriety. they should be introduced gracefully, have fit connexion with the previous remarks, and be in perfect keeping with the company, the subject and the tone of the conversation; they should be short, witty and eloquent, and they should be new but not far-fetched. in rapid and eager discourse, when persons are excited and impatient, as at a ball or in a promenade, repeat nothing but the spirit and soul of a story, leaping over the particulars. there are however many places and occasions in which you may bring out the details with advantage, precisely, but not tediously. when you repeat a true story be always extremely exact. mem. not to forget the point of your story, like most narrators. when you are telling a flat anecdote by mistake, laugh egregiously, that others may do the same: when you repeat a spirited and striking bon mot, be grave and composed, in order that others may not be the same. for one who has travelled much, to hit the proper medium between too much reserve and too much intrusion, on the subject of his adventures, is not easy. such a person is expected to give amusement by pleasant histories of his travels, and it is agreeable that he should do so, yet with moderation; he should not reply to every remark by a memoir, commencing, "when i was in japan." rampant witticisms which require one to laugh, are apt to grow fatiguing: it is better to have a sprightly and amusing vein running through your conversation, which, betraying no effort, allows one to be grave without offence, or to smile without pain. punning is now decidedly out of date. it is a silly and displeasing thing, when it becomes a habit. some one has called it the wit of fools. it is within the reach of the most trifling, and is often used by them to puzzle and degrade the wise. whatever may be its merits, it is now out of fashion. it is respectable to go to church once on sunday. when you are there, behave with decency. you should never walk in fashionable places on sunday afternoon. it is notoriously vulgar. if your health requires you to take the air, you should seek some retired street. in conversation avoid such phrases as "my _dear_ sir or madam." a gentleman is distinguished as much by his composure as by any other quality. his exertions are always subdued, and his efforts easy. he is never surprised into an exclamation or startled by anything. throughout life he avoids what the french call _scenes,_ occasions of exhibition, in which the vulgar delight. he of course has feelings, but he never exhibits any to the world. he hears of the death of his pointer or the loss of an estate with entire calmness when others are present. it is very difficult for a literary man to preserve the perfect manners and exact semblance of a gentleman. he must be able to throw aside all the qualities which authorship tends to stamp so deeply upon him, and thoroughly to despise the cant of the profession. yet this must be done without any affectation. upon the whole, unless he has rare tact, he will please as much by going into company with all the marks of his employment upon his manners, than by awkwardly attempting to throw off his load. one would rather see a man with his fingers inked, than to see him nervously striving to cover them with a tattered kid glove. as to literary ladies, they make up their minds to sacrifice all present and personal admiration for future and abiding renown. it is not considered fashionable to carry a watch. what has a fashionable man to do with time? besides he never goes into those obscure parts of the town where there are no public clocks, and his servant will tell him when it is time to dress for dinner. a gentleman carries his watch in his pantaloons with a plain black ribbon attached. it is only worthy of a shop-boy to put it in his waistcoat pocket. custom allows to men the privilege of taking snuff, however unneat this habit may appear. if you affect the "tangible smell," always take it from a box, and not from your waistcoat pocket or a paper. the common opinion, that napoleon took snuff from his pocket, (which fact, by the way, is denied by bourrienne,) has for ever driven this convenient custom from the practice of gentlemen, for the same reason that lord byron's anti-neckcloth fashion has compelled every man of sense to bind a cravat religiously about his throat. as to taking snuff from a paper, it is vile. women should abstain most scrupulously from tobacco, for nothing can be more fatal to their divinity: they should at least avoid it until past fifty;--that is to say, if a woman past fifty can anywhere be found. chewing is permitted only to galley-slaves and metaphysicians. it was a favourite maxim of rivarol, "do you wish to succeed? cite proper names." rivarol is dead in exile, having left behind him little property and less reputation. judging from all experience, if we were to frame an extreme maxim, it should be, "if you wish to succeed never cite a proper name." it will make you agreeable and hated. your conversation will be listened to with interest, and your company shunned with horror. you will obtain the reputation of a gossip and a scandal-bearer, and you will soon be obliged either to purchase a razor or apply for a passport. if you are holding a tete-a-tete with a notorious mrs. candour, then, indeed, your tongue should be as sharp and nimble as the forked lightning. you must beat her at her own weapons, and convince her that it would be dangerous to traduce your character to others. a bachelor is a person who enjoys everything and pays for nothing; a married man is one that pays for everything and enjoys nothing. the one drives a sulky through life, and is not expected to take care of any one but himself: the other keeps a carriage, which is always too full to afford him a comfortable seat. be cautious then how you exchange your sulky for a carriage. in ordinary conversation about persons employ the expressions _men_ and _women_; _gentleman_ and _lady_ are _distinctive_ appellations, and not to be used upon general occasions. you should say _forte-piano,_ not _piano-forte_: and the _street door,_ not the _front door._ "a man may have virtue, capacity, and good conduct," says la bruy,re, "and yet be insupportable; the air and manner which we neglect, as little things, are frequently what the world judges us by, and makes them decide for or against us." in your intercourse with the world you must take persons as they are, and society as you find it. you must never oppose the one, nor attempt to alter the other. society is a harlequin stage, upon which you never appear in your own dress nor without a mask. keep your real dispositions for your fireside, and your real character for your private friend. in public, never differ from anybody, nor from anything. the _agreeable_ man is one who _agrees._ the end. more goops and how not to be them by gelett burgess [illustration] _books by gelett burgess_ vivette; or the memoirs of the romance association. small, maynard & co., boston. pp. vo. $ . a gage of youth; poems, chiefly from the "lark." pp. small vo. small, maynard & co., boston. $ . the romance of the commonplace; a collection of essays upon the romantic view of life. pp. small to. elder & shepard, san francisco. $ . the lively city o' ligg; a cycle of modern fairy tales for city children. with illustrations ( in color) by the author. frederick a. stokes co., new york. pp. small to. $ . . boards, $ . the burgess nonsense book; being a complete collection of the humorous masterpieces of gelett burgess, esq. with illustrations by the author. pp. small to. frederick a. stokes co., new york. cloth, $ . net. boards, $ . goops, and how to be them; a manual of manners for polite infants. with illustrations by the author. frederick a. stokes co., new york. pp. th edition. small to. $ . more goops, and how not to be them; a manual of manners for impolite infants. with illustrations by the author. pp. small to. frederick a. stokes co., new york. $ . more goops and how not to be them a manual of manners for impolite infants depicting the characteristics of many naughty and thoughtless children with instructive illustrations by gelett burgess new york frederick a. stokes company publishers copyright, , by gelett burgess _published september, _ * * * * * [illustration: (ex libris)] [illustration] [illustration: contents] _contents_ introduction goop! goop! goop! window-smoochers visiting a low trick picking and stealing when to go loyalty "ain't" indolence nell the nibbler the law of hospitality justice the flower hospital a puzzle puppy goops frankness exaggeration the duty of the strong noise! noise! noise! walking with papa stealing rides piano torture untidy goops at table a goop party how to eat soup inquisitiveness baby's apology don't be good in the street write right! sick furniture wet feet borrowed plumes dress quickly! the goop picnic danger! book-manners the reason why poor mother! in goop attire cheating impossible [illustration] [illustration: introduction] _introduction_ children, although you might expect my manners to be quite correct (for since i fancy i can teach, i ought to practice what i preach), 'tis true that i have often braved my mother's wrath, and misbehaved! and almost every single rule i broke, before i went to school! for that is how i learned the way to teach you etiquette to-day. so when you chance to take a look at all the maxims in the book, you'll see that most of them are true, i found them out, and so will you, for if you are as goop derided, you may perhaps reform, as i did! [illustration] [illustration: window-smoochers] _window-smoochers_ little goops are marking on the window pane; i forbid, in vain! noses, when they're greasy, leave a smooch so easy! rub it out again! i shall have to scold them, for i've often told them, kindly, to refrain! [illustration] [illustration: a low trick] _a low trick_ the meanest trick i ever knew was one i know _you_ never do. i saw a goop once try to do it, and there was nothing funny to it. he pulled a chair from under me as i was sitting down; but he was sent to bed, and rightly, too. it was a _horrid_ thing to do! [illustration] [illustration: when to go] _when to go_ when you go a-calling, never stay too late; you will wear your welcome out if you hesitate! just before they're tired of you, just before they yawn, before they think you are a goop, and wish that you were gone, while they're laughing with you, while they like you so, while they want to keep you,-- _that's_ the time to go! [illustration] [illustration: "ain't"] _"ain't"_ now "ain't" is a word that is very absurd to use for an "isn't" or "aren't." ask teacher about it: she'll say, "do without it!" i wish you would see if you can't! [illustration] [illustration: nell the nibbler] _nell the nibbler_ she ate some chocolate drops at , at , she thought she'd take a little jelly and a bun; at , some frosted cake. at , she nibbled at a roll; at , a doughnut spied, and ate it (all except the hole), and then some cookies tried. at , she didn't feel quite right, and didn't care for dinner. she said she had no appetite, with so much goop-food in her! [illustration] [illustration: justice] _justice_ whenever brother's sent to bed, or punished, do not go and peer at him and jeer at him, and say, "i told you so!" nor should you try to make him laugh when he has been so bad; let him confess his naughtiness before you both are glad! [illustration] [illustration: a puzzle] _a puzzle_ there are about a thousand things i'm not allowed to do; most everything i'm fondest of i'm told is wrong--are you? they say, "_please don't do that, my child!_" they say, "_you mustn't, dear!_" i hope sometime i'll learn what's right, for now it seems so queer! [illustration] [illustration: frankness] _frankness_ when you are talking, i expect you'd better hold your head erect! please look me squarely in the eye unless you're telling me a lie. for if you crouch and look askance, regarding me with sidelong glance, i'll think it is a goop i see who is _afraid_ to look at me! [illustration] [illustration: the duty of the strong] _the duty of the strong_ you who are the oldest, you who are the tallest, don't you think you ought to help the youngest and the smallest? you who are the strongest, you who are the quickest, don't you think you ought to help the weakest and the sickest? never mind the trouble, help them all you can; be a little woman! be a little man! [illustration] [illustration: walking with papa] _walking with papa_ "won't you walk a little farther?" said a goop to his papa; "it is really quite delightful, and we haven't travelled far; wont you walk a little farther, there's a house i'd like to see! won't you walk a little farther, till we reach that cherry-tree?" "won't you carry me? i'm tired!" whined a goop to his papa; "and my feet are sore and weary, and we've gone so _very_ far! won't you carry me? i'm tired! and i _can't_ walk back alone! won't you carry me? i'm tired!" and the goop began to groan. [illustration] [illustration: piano torture] _piano torture_ pianos are considered toys by goops, and naughty girls and boys; they pound upon the keys, they lift the cover up, on top, to see the little jiggers hop, and both the pedals squeeze! but instruments so rich and fine (especially if they're not mine) i ought to treat with care; so when my elder sister plays she'll find it is in tune always, nor injured anywhere! [illustration] [illustration: at table] _at table_ why is it goops must always wish to touch _each_ apple on the dish? why do they never neatly fold their napkins until they are told? why do they play with food, and bite such awful mouthfuls? is it right? why do they tilt back in their chairs? _because they're goops!_ so no one cares! [illustration] [illustration: how to eat soup] _how to eat soup_ whenever you are eating soup remember not to be a goop! and if you think to say this rhyme, perhaps 'twill help you every time: _like little boats that put to sea, i push my spoon away from me; i do not tilt my dish, nor scrape the last few drops, like hungry ape!_ _like little boats, that, almost filled, come back without their cargoes spilled, my spoon sails gently to my lips, unloading from the side, like ships._ [illustration] [illustration: baby's apology] _baby's apology_ dear little seed, queer little seed, tucked into bed in the garden, why don't you grow? why, don't you know baby is asking your pardon? out, little seed! sprout, little seed! baby did wrong without knowing! hoping for you, groping for you, to see if you _really_ were growing. break, little seed! wake, little seed! baby will watch and not harm you. everything's bright, everything's right, nothing is here to alarm you. dress, little seed! yes, little seed, fold your green leaflets around you; _there_, little seed! fair little seed, baby's _so_ glad he has found you! [illustration] [illustration: in the street] _in the street_ peelings on the sidewalk, apple-cores and all, kick them in the gutter; save some one a fall! barrel hoops, glass, and cans, and wires in the street, kick them in the gutter; you'll save some horse's feet! [illustration] [illustration: sick furniture] _sick furniture_ sitting on the table, standing on the chairs, that's the way the legs are broken and the cushion tears! how'd you like to pay the bill for varnish and repairs? [illustration] [illustration: borrowed plumes] _borrowed plumes_ don't try on the wraps, the bonnets and caps of company coming to call! admire, if you please, but garments like these should always feel safe in the hall! [illustration] [illustration: the goop picnic] _the goop picnic_ they came to the best sort of place for a rest, on the grass, with the trees overhead, they sat down in a bunch and they opened their lunch, and they had a be-autiful spread! and when they were done, and they'd had all their fun, they proved they were goops, or were blind; for they picked up their wraps and they left all their scraps for the _next_ picnic party to find! [illustration] [illustration: book manners] _book-manners_ if you scribble on your books, how disgustable it looks! here a word, and there a scrawl, silly pictures over all! take a paper, or a slate, if you want to decorate! [illustration] [illustration: poor mother!] _poor mother!_ oh! isn't it shocking! just look at your stocking! just look at your brand new boots! your waist is all torn and your trousers are worn-- just _look_ at the holes in your suits! your father is working all day, without shirking, to pay for the clothes that you wear; your mother is mending all day, and attending to you, with the kindest of care. and so, while you're playing, think of father, who's paying, and mother, who's working so hard; while you kneel on your knees, or climb up the trees, or make your mud pies in the yard! [illustration] [illustration: cheating] _cheating_ i thought i saw a little goop who didn't pay his fare; i looked again; the passengers were gazing at him, there. "they think that he's a thief!" i said; "i wonder does he care?" [illustration] [illustration: goop! goop! goop!] _goop! goop! goop!_ goop! goop! goop! i wish you'd wash your face! goop! goop! goop! your hands are a disgrace! goop! goop! goop! put things back in their place! i wish you were polite, instead of a goop! goop! goop! [illustration] [illustration: visiting] _visiting_ when a goop goes out to visit, 't isn't very pleasant, is it, to hear him ask his friends for things to eat? and to hear the little sinner say he wants to stay to dinner is a piece of impoliteness hard to beat! "_mother said that i could stay_ _if you asked me!_" is the way that a goop will make them ask him to remain. it is better to be slighted than to stay when not invited, for they _never_ ask a goop to come again! [illustration] [illustration: picking and stealing] _picking and stealing_ when you are fetching bread, i trust you never nibble at the crust when in the kitchen, do you linger and pinch the cookies with your finger? or do you peck the frosted cake? don't do it, please, for mother's sake! [illustration] [illustration: loyalty] _loyalty_ mother's found your mischief out! what are you going to do? cry and sulk, or kick and shout? tell your mother all about brother's mischief, too? or, take your punishment, and say, "i'll be better, now!" never mind the horrid way brother treated you, at play; don't tell it, anyhow! it is the goops, who have no shame, who say, "_'twas some one else to blame!_" [illustration] [illustration: indolence] _indolence_ there was a goop who lay in bed till half-past eight, the sleepy-head! he couldn't find his stockings, for he'd thrown them somewhere on the floor! he couldn't find his reading-book; he had forgotten where to look! his breakfast grew so very cold, this lazy goop began to scold; and then he blamed his mother, kind! "_you made me late to school_!" he whined. [illustration] [illustration: the law of hospitality] _the law of hospitality_ there is a very simple rule that every one should know; you may not hear of it in school, but everywhere you go, in every land where people dwell, and men are good and true, you'll find they understand it well, and so i'll tell it you: _to every one who gives me food, or shares his home with me, i owe a debt of gratitude, and i must loyal be. i may not laugh at him, or say of him a word unkind; his friendliness i must repay, and to his faults be blind!_ [illustration] [illustration: the flower hospital] _the flower hospital_ i dreamed i found a sunlit room filled with a delicate perfume, where, moaning their sweet lives away, a thousand lovely flowers lay. they drooped, so pale, and wan, and weak, with hardly strength enough to speak, with stems so crushed and leaves so torn it was too dreadful to be borne! and one white lily raised her head from off her snowy flower bed. and sighed, "_please tell the children, oh! they should not treat the flowers so! they plucked us when we were so gay, and then they threw us all away to wither in the sun all day! we all must fade, but we'll forgive if they'll let other flowers live_!" [illustration] [illustration: puppy goops] _puppy goops_ candy in the cushions of the easy-chair; raisins in the sofa-- how did they get there? the little goop who's greedy does it every day, like a little puppy, hiding bones away! [illustration] [illustration: exaggeration] _exaggeration_ don't try to tell a story to beat the one you've heard; for if you try, you're apt to lie, and _that_ would be absurd! don't try to be more funny than any one in school; for if you're not, they'll laugh a lot, and think you are a fool! [illustration] [illustration: noise! noise! noise!] _noise! noise! noise!_ do you slam the door? do you drag your feet? making noise enough for four hundred thousand goops, or more, tearing up the street? clattering down the stairs, storming through the hall, pounding floors, upsetting chairs, do you think your father cares for your noise, at all? [illustration] [illustration: stealing rides] _stealing rides_ i thought i saw a little goop who hung behind a cart; i looked again. he'd fallen off! it gave me _such_ a start! "if he were killed, some day," i said, "'twould break his mother's heart!" [illustration] [illustration: untidy goops] _untidy goops_ i think you are a goop, because you never shut your bureau drawers, you do not close the door! you leave your water in the bowl, you put your peelings in the coal! i've told you _that_ before! [illustration] [illustration: a goop party] _a goop party_ "please come to my party!" said jenny to prue; "i'm going to have willy, and nelly, and you; i'm going to have candy and cake and ice-cream, we'll play _hunt-the-slipper_, we'll laugh and we'll scream. we'll dress up in caps, we'll have stories and tricks, and you won't have to go till a quarter past six!" but alas! when she mentioned her party, at tea, her mother said, "no! it can't possibly be!" so jane had to go and explain to her friends, and that is how many a goop party ends! just speak to your mother _before_ you invite, and then it's more likely to happen all right! [illustration] [illustration: inquisitiveness] _inquisitiveness_ i gave a letter to a goop to take to mrs. bird; and what d'you think he went and did? he read it, every word! now, isn't that the rudest thing that you have ever heard? why, he would peep through keyholes, and listen at the door! and open parcels, just to see what came from every store! now, have you ever _ever_ heard of such a goop before? [illustration] [illustration: don't be good] _don't be good_ just because you want to go to the circus, or the show; but, when all your fun is o'er, be as good as you were before! [illustration: don't be bad] _don't be bad_ just as long as you dare to be, because your mother doesn't see. do not wait for her to scold, but be just as good as gold! [illustration] [illustration: write right!] _write right!_ if you were writing with your nose, you'd _have_ to curl up, i suppose, and lay your head upon your hand; but now, i cannot understand, for you are writing with your pen! so sit erect, and smile again! you need not scowl because you write, nor hold your fingers _quite_ so tight! and if you gnaw the holder so, they'll take you for a goop, you know! [illustration] [illustration: wet feet] _wet feet_ down the street together, in the rainy weather, went a pair of little boys along; one of them went straying in the gutters playing, doing all his mother said was wrong; one of them went dashing into puddles splashing, under dripping eaves that soaked him through; one of them avoided all the other boy did, dodging all the slimy, slushy goo. one of them grew chilly; said he felt so ill he knew he'd caught a cold, and coughed a lot! the other was so warm he said he _liked_ it stormy! which of them was goop, and which was not? [illustration] [illustration: dress quickly!] _dress quickly!_ all your life you'll have to dress, every single day (unless you should happen to be sick), why not learn to do it quick? hang your clothes the proper way, so you'll find them fresh next day; treat them with a little care, fold them neatly on a chair; so, without a bit of worry, you can dress in quite a hurry. think of the slovenly goops, before you strew your clothing on the floor! [illustration] [illustration: danger!] _danger!_ ink, ink! what do you think! you're sure to be stained, if you play with the ink! you're sure to get black, if you play with the ink-well, before you begin it, just stop once, and think well! all over your fingers, all over your face, all over your clothes, and all over the place! your mother'll be angry, your father'll say, "_there! i said not to touch it; you said you'd take care!_" when goops are so mischievous, they have to drink forty-four dozen bottles of raven black ink! [illustration] [illustration: the reason why] _the reason why_ everybody liked ezekiel. why? you could scarcely find his equal. why? if he made a mistake, he said he was wrong; if he went on an errand, he wasn't gone long; he never would bully, although he was strong! everybody hated mello. why? he was such a surly fellow. why? if you asked him for candy, he'd hide his away; he never would play what the rest wished to play; he would say _horrid_ words that he oughtn't to say! [illustration] [illustration: in goop attire] _in goop attire_ i'll make you a dress of a towel, and trim it all over with soap, with a sponge for a hat and a wet one, at that! and _then_ you'll be happy, i hope! you may act like a goop, if you please, in garments constructed like these! but now, while you're dressed up so neatly, don't wipe off your hands on your frock! the smooching that lingers when you wipe off your fingers, will give your dear mother a shock! the result will be even more shocking, if you wipe off your shoes on your stocking! [illustration] [illustration: impossible!] _impossible!_ there once was a goop (_it is hard to believe such unpleasant behavior of you!_) who always was wiping his nose on his sleeve; _i hope that this goop wasn't you!_ he always was spitting (for fun, i suppose), _i couldn't believe, it of you!_ and putting his fingers up into his nose; _i know that this goop wasn't you!_ [illustration] [frontispiece]the modern dinner-table. manners and social usages by mrs. john sherwood m.e.w. author of "a transplanted rose" "manners are the shadows of great virtues."--whateley "solid fashion is funded politeness."--emerson new and enlarged edition, revised by the author jun pg transcriber's notes: this etiquette manual was probably originally a series of columns in a newspaper or a magazine like harper's, as the chapters on weddings in the different seasons refer to how the fashions have changed since the last one--by the original copyright, , though the book version appeared in . notable features among the usual: how to dance the german, or cotillon; remarks and four chapters on english, french, or others in contrast to american customs, making it a guide to european manners; proper behavior for the single woman past girlhood; appropriate costumes for many occasions; three chapters on staff and servants. preface. there is no country where there are so many people asking what is "proper to do," or, indeed, where there are so many genuinely anxious to do the proper thing, as in the vast conglomerate which we call the united states of america. the newness of our country is perpetually renewed by the sudden making of fortunes, and by the absence of a hereditary, reigning set. there is no aristocracy here which has the right and title to set the fashions. but a "reigning set," whether it depend upon hereditary right or adventitious wealth, if it be possessed of a desire to lead and a disposition to hospitality, becomes for a period the dictator of fashion to a large number of lookers-on. the travelling world, living far from great centres, goes to newport, saratoga, new york, washington, philadelphia, boston, and gazes on what is called the latest american fashion. this, though exploited by what we may call for the sake of distinction the "newer set," is influenced and shaped in some degree by people of native refinement and taste, and that wide experience which is gained by travel and association with broad and cultivated minds. they counteract the tendency to vulgarity, which is the great danger of a newly launched society, so that our social condition improves, rather than retrogrades, with every decade. there may be many social purists who will disagree with us in this statement. men and women educated in the creeds of the old world, with the good blood of a long ancestry of quiet ladies and gentlemen, find modern american society, particularly in new york and at newport, fast, furious, and vulgar. there are, of course, excesses committed everywhere in the name of fashion; but we cannot see that they are peculiar to america. we can only answer that the creed of fashion is one of perpetual change. there is a council of trent, we may say, every five years, perhaps even every two years, in our new and changeful country, and we learn that, follow as we may either the grand old etiquette of england or the more gay and shifting social code of france, we still must make an original etiquette of our own. our political system alone, where the lowest may rise to the highest preferment, upsets in a measure all that the old world insists upon in matters of precedence and formality. certain immutable principles remain common to all elegant people who assume to gather society about them, and who wish to enter its portals; the absent-minded scholar from his library should not ignore them, the fresh young farmer from the countryside feels and recognizes their importance. if we are to live together in unity we must make society a pleasant thing, we must obey certain formal rules, and these rules must conform to the fashion of the period. and it is in no way derogatory to a new country like our own if on some minor points of etiquette we presume to differ from the older world. we must fit our garments to the climate, our manners to our fortunes and to our daily lives. there are, however, faults and inelegancies of which foreigners accuse us which we may do well to consider. one of these is the greater freedom allowed in the manners of our young women a freedom which, as our new world fills up with people of foreign birth, cannot but lead to social disturbances. other national faults, which english writers and critics kindly point out, are our bumptiousness, our spread- eagleism, and our too great familiarity and lack of dignity, etc. instead of growing angry over these criticisms, perhaps we might as well look into the matter dispassionately, and see if we cannot turn the advice in some degree to our advantage. we can, however, decide for ourselves on certain points of etiquette which we borrow from nobody; they are a part of our great nation, of our republican institutions, and of that continental hospitality which gives a home to the russian, the german, the frenchman, the irishman, man, and the "heathen chinee." a somewhat wide and elastic code, as boundless as the prairies, can alone meet the needs of these different citizens. the old traditions of stately manners, so common to the washington and jefferson days, have almost died out here, as similar manners have died out all over the world. the war of swept away what little was left of that once important american fact--a grandfather. we began all over again; and now there comes up from this newer world a flood of questions: how shall we manage all this? how shall we use a fork? when wear a dress-coat? how and when and on whom shall we leave our cards? how long and for whom shall we wear mourning? what is the etiquette of a wedding? how shall we give a dinner-party? the young housekeeper of kansas writes as to the manners she shall teach to her children; the miner's wife, having become rich, asks how she shall arrange her house, call on her neighbors, write her letters? many an anxious girl writes as to the propriety of "driving out with a gentleman," etc. in fact, there is one great universal question, what is the etiquette of good society? not a few people have tried to answer these questions, and have broken down in the attempt. many have made valuable manuals, as far as they went; but writers on etiquette commonly fail, for one or two different reasons. many attempt to write who know nothing of good society by experience, and their books are full of ludicrous errors. others have had the disadvantage of knowing too much, of ignoring the beginning of things, of supposing that the person who reads will take much for granted. for a person who has an intuitive knowledge of etiquette, who has been brought up from his mother's knee in the best society, has always known what to do, how to dress, to whom to bow, to write in the simplest way about etiquette would be impossible; he would never know how little the reader, to whose edification he was addressing himself, knew of the matter. if, however, an anxious inquirer should write and ask if "mashed potato must be eaten with a knife or a fork," or if "napkins and finger bowls can be used at breakfast," those questions he can answer. it is with an effort to answer thousands of these questions, written in good faith to harper's bazar, that this book is undertaken. the simplicity, the directness, and the evident desire "to improve," which characterize these anonymous letters, are all much to be commended. many people have found themselves suddenly conquerors of material wealth, the most successful colonists in the world, the heirs of a great inheritance, the builders of a new empire. there is a true refinement manifested in their questions. not only do men and women like to behave properly themselves, but all desire to know what is the best school of manners, that they may educate their children therein. such minds are the best conservators of law and order. it is not a communistic spirit that asks, "how can i do this thing in a better way?" it is that wise and liberal conservatism which includes reverence for law, respect for age, belief in religion, and a desire for a refined society. a book on etiquette, however patiently considered and honestly written, must have many shortcomings, and contain disputed testimony. all we can do is endeavor to mention those fashions and customs which we believe to be the best, remembering always, as we have said, that the great law of change goes on forever, that our stately grandfathers had fashions which we should now consider gross and unbecoming, while we have customs, particularly of speech, which would have shocked them. this law of change is not only one which time modifies, but with us the south, the north, the east, and the west differ as to certain points of etiquette. all, however, agree in saying that there is a good society in america whose mandates are supreme. all feel that the well-bred man or woman is a "recognized institution." everybody laughed at the mistakes of daisy miller, and saw wherein she and her mother were wrong. independent american girls may still choose to travel without a chaperon, but they must be prepared to fight a well-founded prejudice if they do. there is a recognition of the necessity of good manners, and a profound conviction, let us hope, that a graceful manner is the outcropping of a well-regulated mind and of a good heart. contents. chapter ... page i. women as leaders ... ii. optional civilities ... iii. good and bad society ... iv. on introducing people ... v. visiting ... vi. invitations, acceptances, and regrets ... vii. cards of compliment, courtesy, condolence, and congratulation ... viii. the etiquette of weddings ... ix. who pays for the cards ... x. weddings after easter ... xi. summer weddings ... xii autumn weddings ... xiii. before the wedding and after ... xiv. gold, silver, and tin weddings ... xv. the etiquette of balls ... xvi. fashionable dancing ... xvii. letters and letter writing ... xviii. costly thy habit ... xlx. dressing for driving ... xx. incongruities of dress ... xxi. etiquette of mourning ... xxii. mourning and funeral usages ... xxiii. letters of condolence ... xxiv. chaperons and their duties ... xxv. etiquette for elderly girls ... xxvi. new year's calls ... xxvii. matin�es and soir�es ... xxviii. afternoon tea ... xxix. caudle and christening cups and ceremonies ... xxx. modern dinner table ... xxxi. laying the dinner-table ... xxxii. favors and bonbonni�res ... xxxiii. dinner table novelites ... xxxiv. summer dinners ... xxxv. luncheons, informal and social ... xxxvi. supper parties ... xxxvii. simple dinners ... xxxviii. the small talk of society ... xxxix. garden parties ... xl. silver weddings and other wedding anniversaries ... xli. spring and summer entertainments ... xlii. floral tributes and decorations ... xliii. the fork and the spoon ... xliv. napkins and table-cloths ... xlv. servants, their dress and duties ... xlvi. house with one servant ... xlvii. house with two servants ... xlviii. house with many servants ... xlix. manners: a study for the awkward and the shy ... l. how to treat a guest ... li. lady and gentleman ... lil the manners of the past ... liii. the manners of the optimist ... liv. the manners of the sympathetic ... lv. certain questions answered ... lvi. english table manners and social usages. ... lvii. american and english etiquette contrasted ... lviii. how to treat english people ... lix. a foreign table d'h�te, and casino life abroad ... manners and social usages. chapter i. women as leaders. nothing strikes the foreigner so much (since the days of de tocqueville, the first to mention it) as the prominent position of woman in the best society of america. she has almost no position in the political world. she is not a leader, an _intrigante_ in politics, as she is in france. we have no madame de stael, no princess belgioso, here to make and unmake our presidents; but women do all the social work, which in europe is done not only by women, but by young bachelors and old ones, statesmen, princes, ambassadors, and _attaches_. officials are connected with every court whose business it is to visit, write and answer invitations, leave cards, call, and perform all the multifarious duties of the social world. in america, the lady of the house does all this. her men are all in business or in pleasure, her sons are at work or off yachting. they cannot spend time to make their dinner calls--"mamma, please leave my cards" is the legend written on their banners. thus to women, as the conductors of social politics, is committed the card--that pasteboard protocol, whose laws are well defined in every land but our own. now, in ten different books on etiquette which we have consulted we find ten different opinions upon the subject of first calls, as between two women. we cannot, therefore, presume to decide where so many doctors disagree, but give the commonly received opinions as expressed by the customs of new york society. when should a lady call first upon a new and a desirable acquaintance? not hastily. she should have met the new and desirable acquaintance, should have been properly introduced, should feel sure that her acquaintance is desired. the oldest resident, the one most prominent in fashion, should call first; but, if there is no such distinction, two women need not forever stand at bay each waiting for the other to call. a very admirable and polite expedient has been: substituted for a first call in the sending out of cards, for several days in the month, by a lady who wishes to begin her social life, we will say, in a new city. these may or may not be accompanied by the card of some well-known friend. if these cards bring the desired visits or the cards of the desired guests, the beginner may feel that she has started on her society career with no loss of self respect. those who do not respond are generally in a minority. too much haste in making new acquaintances, however--"pushing," as it is called-cannot be too much deprecated. first calls should be returned within a week. if a lady is invited to any entertainment by a new acquaintance, whether the invitation come through a friend or not, she should immediately leave cards, and send either a regret or an acceptance. to lose time in this matter is a great rudeness. whether she attend the entertainment or not, she should call after it within a week. then, having done all that is polite, and having shown herself a woman of good-breeding, she can keep up the acquaintance or not as she pleases. sometimes there are reasons why a lady does not wish to keep up the acquaintance, but she must not, for her own sake, be oblivious to the politeness extended. some very rude people in new york have sent back invitations, or failed to recognize the first attempt at civility, saying, "we don't know the people." this is not the way to discourage unpleasant familiarity. in new york, boston, and philadelphia, and in the large cities of the west, and generally in the country: towns, residents call first upon new-comers; but in washington this custom is reversed, and the new-comer calls first upon the resident. every one--officials of the highest down to the lowest grade returns these cards. the visitor generally finds himself invited to the receptions of the president and his cabinet, etc. this arrangement is so convenient that it is a thousand pities it does not go into operation all over the country, particularly in those large cities where the resident cannot know if her dearest friend be in town unless informed in some such way of the fact. this does not, as might be supposed, expose society to the intrusion of unwelcome visitors. tact, which is the only guide through the mazes of society, will enable a woman to avoid anything like an unwelcome intimacy or a doubtful acquaintance, even if such a person should "call first." now the question comes up, and here doctors disagree: when may a lady call by proxy, or when may she send her card, or when must she call in person? after a dinner-party a guest must call in person and inquire if the hostess is at home. for other entertainments it is allowed, in new york, that the lady call by proxy, or that she simply send her card. in sending to inquire for a person's health, cards may be sent by a servant, with a kindly message. no first visit should, however, be returned by card only; this would be considered a slight, unless followed by an invitation. the size of new york, the great distances, the busy life of a woman of charities, large family, and immense circle of acquaintances may render a personal visit almost impossible. she may be considered to have done her duty if she in her turn asks her new acquaintance to call on her on a specified day, if she is not herself able to call. bachelors should leave cards (if they ever leave any) on the master and mistress of the house, and, in america, upon the young ladies. a gentleman does not turn down the corners of his card--indeed, that fashion has become almost obsolete, except, perhaps, where a lady wishes it distinctly understood that she has called in person. the plainer the card the better. a small, thin card for a gentleman, not glazed, with his name in small script and his address well engraved in the corner, is in good taste. a lady's card should be larger, but not glazed or ornamented in any way. it is a rule with sticklers for good-breeding that after any entertainment a gentleman should leave his card in person, although, as we have said, he often commits it to some feminine agency. no gentleman should call on a lady unless she asks him to do so, or unless he brings a letter of introduction, or unless he is taken by a lady who is sufficiently intimate to invite him to call. a lady should say to a gentleman, if she wishes him to call, "i hope that we shall see you," or, "i am at home on monday," or something of that sort. if he receives an invitation to dinner or to a ball from a stranger, he is bound to send an immediate answer, call the very next day, leave his card, and then to call after the entertainment. this, at least, is foreign etiquette, and we cannot do better than import it. this rule holds good for the entertainments of bachelors, who should leave their cards on each other after an entertainment, unless the intimacy is so great that no card- leaving is expected. when a lady returns to town, after an absence in europe or in the country, it is strict etiquette that she should leave cards on all her acquaintances and friends if she expects to entertain or to lead a gay, social winter; but as distances in our great cities are formidable, as all ladies do not keep a carriage, as most ladies have a great deal else to do besides making visits, this long and troublesome process is sometimes simplified by giving a tea or a series of teas, which enables the lady, by staying at home on one evening of a week, or two or three afternoons of a month, to send out her cards to that effect, and to thus show her friends that she at least remembers them. as society and card-leaving thus become rapidly complicated, a lady should have a visiting-book, into which her list is carefully copied, with spaces for days and future engagements. a servant must be taught to receive the cards at the door, remember messages, and recollect for whom they are left, as it is not proper in calling upon mrs. brown at a private house to write her name on your card. at a crowded hotel this may be allowed, but it is not etiquette in visiting at private houses. in returning visits, observe the exact etiquette of the person who has left the first card. a call must not be returned with a card only, or a card by a call. if a person send you a card by post, return a card by post; if a personal visit is made, return it by a personal visit; if your acquaintance leave cards only, without inquiring if you are at home, return the same courtesy. if she has left the cards of the gentlemen of her family, return those of the gentlemen of your family. a young lady's card should almost always be accompanied by that of her mother or her chaperon. it is well, on her entrance into society, that the name of the young lady be engraved on her mother's card. after she has been out a year, she may leave her own card only. here american etiquette begins to differ from english etiquette. in london, on the other hand, no young lady leaves her card: if she is motherless, her name is engraved beneath the name of her father, and the card of her chaperon is left with both until she becomes a maiden lady of somewhat mature if uncertain age. it is rare now to see the names of both husband and wife engraved on one card, as "mr. and mrs. brown." the lady has her own card, "mrs. octavius brown," or with the addition, "the misses brown." her husband has his separate card; each of the sons has his own card. no titles are used on visiting-cards in america, save military, naval, or judicial ones; and, indeed, many of our most distinguished judges have had cards printed simply with the name, without prefix or affix. "mr. webster," "mr. winthrop," "henry clay" are well-known instances of simplicity. but a woman must always use the prefix "mrs." or "miss." a gentleman may or may not use the prefix "mr.," as he pleases, but women must treat themselves with more respect. no card is less proper than one which is boldly engraved "gertrude f. brown;" it should be "miss gertrude f. brown." a married lady always bears her husband's name, during his life, on her card. some discussion is now going on as to whether she should continue to call herself "mrs. octavius brown" or "mrs. mary brown" after his death. the burden of opinion is in favor of the latter--particularly as a son may bear his father's name, so there will be two mrs. octavius browns. no lady wishes to be known as "old mrs. octavius brown," and as we do not use the convenient title of dowager, we may as well take the alternative of the christian name. we cannot say "mrs. octavius brown, jr.," if the husband has ceased to be a junior. many married ladies hesitate to discard the name by which they have always been known. perhaps the simple "mrs. brown" is the best, after all. no lady should leave cards upon an unmarried gentleman, except in the case of his having given entertainments at which ladies were present. then the lady of the house should drive to his door with the cards of herself and family, allowing the footman to leave them. the young ladies' names, in such a case as this, should be engraven on their mother's card. "we have no leisure class," as henry james says in his brilliant "international episode;" but still young men should try to make time to call on those who entertain them, showing by some sort of personal attention their gratitude for the politeness shown them. american young men are, as a rule, very remiss about this matter of calling on the hostess whose hospitality they accept. a gentleman should not call on a young lady without asking for her mother or her chaperon. nor should he leave cards for her alone, but always leave one for her mother. ladies can, and often do, write informal invitations on the visiting-card. to teas, readings, and small parties, may be added the day of reception. it is convenient and proper to send these cards by post. everything can be sent by post now, except an invitation to dinner, and that must always be sent by private hand, and an answer must be immediately returned in the same formal manner. after balls, amateur concerts, theatrical parties, garden-parties, or "at homes," cards should be left by all invited guests within a week after the invitation, particularly if the invited guest has been obliged to decline. these cards may be left without inquiring for the hostess, if time presses; but it is more polite to inquire for the hostess, even if it is not her day. if it is her reception day, it would be rude not to inquire, enter, and pay a personal visit. after a dinner, one must inquire for the hostess and pay a personal visit. it is necessary to mention this fact, because so many ladies have got into the habit (having large acquaintances) of leaving or sending cards in by a footman, without inquiring for the hostess (who is generally not at home), that there has grown up a confusion, which leads to offence being taken where none is meant. it is not considered necessary to leave cards after a tea. a lady leaves her cards as she enters the hall, pays her visit, and the etiquette of a visiting acquaintance is thus established for a year. she should, however, give a tea herself, asking all her entertainers. if a lady has been invited to a tea or other entertainment through a friend without having known her hostess, she is bound to call soon; but if the invitation is not followed up by a return card or another invitation, she must understand that the acquaintance is at an end. she may, however, invite her new friend, within a reasonable time, to some entertainment at her own house, and if that is accepted, the acquaintance goes on. it is soon ascertained by a young woman who begins life in a new city whether her new friends intend to be friendly or the reverse. a resident of a town or village can call, with propriety, on any new-comer. the newcomer must return this call; but, if she does not desire a further acquaintance, this can be the end of it. the time of calling must in every town be settled by the habits of the place; after two o'clock and before six is, however, generally safe. in england they have a pleasant fashion of calling to inquire for invalids or afflicted friends, and of pencilling the words "kind inquiries." it has not obtained that popularity in america which it deserves, and it would be well to introduce it. if a lady call on a person who is a stranger to her, and if she has difficulty in impressing her name on the servant, she sends up her card, while she waits to see if the lady will receive her. but she must never on any occasion hand her own card to her hostess. if she enters the parlor and finds her hostess there, she must introduce herself by pronouncing her own name distinctly. if she is acquainted with the lady, she simply gives her name to the servant, and does not send up her card. wedding-cards have great prominence in america, but we ignore those elaborate funeral-cards and christening-cards, and printed cards with announcements of engagements, and many other cards fashionable abroad. with us the cards of the bride and her parents, and sometimes of the _fianc�_, are sent to all friends before the wedding, and those of the invitation to the wedding to a few only, it may be, or to all, as the family desire. after the marriage, the cards of the married pair, with their address, are sent to all whose acquaintance is desired. husbands and wives rarely call together in america, although there is no law against their doing so. it is unusual because, as we have said, we have no "leisure class." gentlemen are privileged to call on sunday, after church, and on sunday evenings. a mother and daughter should call together, or, if the mother is an invalid, the daughter can call, leaving her mother's card. "not at home" is a proper formula, if ladies are not receiving; nor does it involve a falsehood. it merely means that the lady is not at home to company. the servant should also add, "mrs. brown receives on tuesdays," if the lady has a day. were not ladies able to deny themselves to callers there would be no time in crowded cities for any sort of work, or repose, or leisure for self- improvement. for, with the many idle people who seek to rid themselves of the pain and penalty of their own vapid society by calling and making somebody else entertain them, with the wandering book-agents and beggars, or with even the overflow of society, a lady would find her existence muddled away by the poorest and most abject of occupations--that of receiving a number of inconsiderate, and perhaps impertinent, wasters of time. it is well for all house-keepers to devote one day in the week to the reception of visitors--the morning to tradespeople and those who may wish to see her on business, and the afternoon to those who call socially. it saves her time and simplifies matters. nothing is more vulgar than that a caller should ask the servant where his mistress is, when she went out, when she will be in, how soon she will be down, etc. all that a well-bred servant should say to such questions is, "i do not know, madam." a mistress should inform her servant after breakfast _what he is to say_ to all comers. it is very offensive to a visitor to be let in, and then be told that she cannot see the lady of the house. she feels personally insulted, and as if, had she been some other person, the lady of the house would perhaps have seen her. if a servant, evidently ignorant and uncertain of his mistress and her wishes, says, "i will see if mrs. brown will see you," and ushers you into the parlor, it is only proper to go in and wait. but it is always well to say, "if mrs. brown is going out, is dressing, or is otherwise engaged, ask her not to trouble herself to come down." mrs. brown will be very much obliged to you. in calling on a friend who is staying with people with whom you are not acquainted, always leave a card for the lady of the house. the lack of this attention is severely felt by new people who may entertain a fashionable woman as their guest--one who receives many calls from those who do not know her hostess. it is never proper to call on a guest without asking for the hostess. again, if the hostess be a very fashionable woman, and the visitor decidedly not so, it is equally vulgar to make one's friend who may be a guest in the house a sort of entering wedge for an acquaintance; a card should be left, but unaccompanied by any request to see the lady of the house. this every lady will at once understand. a lady who has a guest staying with her who receives really calls should always try to place a parlor at her disposal where she can see her friends alone, unless she be a very young person, to whom the chaperonage of the hostess is indispensable. if the lady of the house is in the drawing-room when the visitor arrives to call on her guest, she is, of course, introduced and says a few words; and if she is not in the room, the guest should inquire of the visitor if the lady of the house will see him or her, thus giving her a chance to accept or decline. in calling on the sons or the daughters of the house, every visitor should leave a card for the father and mother. if ladies are at home, cards should be left for the gentlemen of the family. in europe a young man is not allowed to ask for the young ladies of the house in formal parlance, nor is he allowed to leave a card on them--socially in europe the "_jeune fille_" has no existence. he calls on the mother or chaperon; the young lady may be sent for, but he must not inquire for her first. even if she is a young lady at the head of a house, he is not allowed to call upon her without some preliminaries; some amiable female friend must manage to bring them together. in america the other extreme has led to a very vicious system of etiquette, by which young ladies are recognized as altogether leaders of society, receiving the guests and pushing their mothers into the background. it would amaze a large number of ambitious young ladies to be told that it was not proper that young men should call on them and be received by them alone. but the solution would seem to be that the mother or chaperon should advance to her proper place in this country, and while taking care of her daughter, appearing with her in public, and receiving visits with her, still permit that good-natured and well-intended social intercourse between young men and women which is so seldom abused, and which has led to so many happy marriages. it is one of the points yet debatable how much liberty should be allowed young ladies. certainly, however, we do not wish to hold our young girls up to the scorn and ridicule of the novelist or the foreign critic by ignoring what has been a recognized tenet of good manners since society was formed. the fact that the chaperon is a necessary institution, and that to married ladies and to elderly ladies should be paid all due respect, is a subject of which we shall treat later. no young lady who is visiting in a strange city or country town should ever receive the visits of gentlemen without asking her hostess and her daughters to come down and be introduced to them; nor should she ever invite such persons to call without asking her hostess if it would be agreeable. to receive an ordinary acquaintance at any hour, even that of the afternoon reception, without her hostess would be very bad manners. we fear the practice is too common, however. how much worse to receive a lover, or a gentleman who may aspire to the honor of becoming one, at unusual hours, without saying anything to the lady of the house! too many young american girls are in the habit of doing so: making of their friend's house a convenience by which an acquaintance with a young man may be carried on--a young man too, perhaps, who has been forbidden her own home. a bride receives her callers after she has settled down in her married home just as any lady does. there is no particular etiquette observed. she sends out cards for two or three reception days, and her friends and new acquaintances call or send cards on these days. she must not, however, call on her friends until they have called upon her. as many of these callers--friends, perhaps, of the bridegroom--are unknown to the bride, it is well to have a servant announce the names; and they should also leave their cards in the hall that she may be able to know where to return the visits. what has so far been said will serve to give a general idea of the card and its uses, and of the duties which it imposes upon different members of society. farther on in this volume we will take up, in much more particular fashion, the matters only alluded to in this opening chapter. we may say that cards have changed less in the history of etiquette and fashion than anything else. they, the shifting pasteboards, are in style about what they were fifty--nay, a hundred--years ago. the plain, unglazed card with fine engraved script cannot be improved upon. the passing fashion for engraved autographs, for old english, for german text, all these fashions have had but a brief hour. nothing is in worse taste than for an american to put a coat-of-arms on his card. it only serves to make him ridiculous. a lady should send up her card by a servant, but not deliver it to the lady of the house; a card is yourself, therefore if you meet a lady, she does not want two of you. if you wish to leave your address, leave a card on the hall table. one does right in leaving a card on the hall table at a reception, and one need not call again. an invitation to one's house cancels all indebtedness. if a card is left on a lady's reception, she should make the next call, although many busy society women now never make calls, except when they receive invitations to afternoon teas or receptions. when a gentleman calls on ladies who are at home, if he knows them well he does not send up a card; the servant announces his name. if he does not know them well, he does send up a card. one card is sufficient, but he can inquire for them all. in leaving cards it is not necessary to leave seven or eight, but it is customary to leave two--one for the lady of the house, the other for the rest of the family or the stranger who is within their gates. if a gentleman wishes particularly to call on any one member, he says so to the servant, as "take my card up to miss jones," and he adds, "i should like to see all the ladies if they are at home." the trouble in answering this question is that authorities differ. we give the latest london and new york fashion, so far as we know, and also what we believe to be the common-sense view. a gentleman can ask first for the lady of the house, then for any other member of the family, but he need never leave more than two cards. he must in this, as in all etiquette, exercise common-sense. no one can define all the ten thousand little points. chapter ii. optional civilities. there are many optional civilities in life which add very much to its charm if observed, but which cannot be called indispensable. to those which are harmless and graceful we shall give a cursory glance, and to those which are doubtful and perhaps harmful we shall also briefly allude, leaving it to the common-sense of the reader as to whether he will hereafter observe in his own manners these so-called optional civilities. in france, when a gentleman takes off his hat in a windy street or in an exposed passage-way, and holds it in his hand while talking to a lady, she always says, "_couvrez vous_" (i beg of you not to stand uncovered). a kind-hearted woman says this to a boatman, a coachman, a man of low degree, who always takes off his hat when a lady speaks to him. now in our country, unfortunately, the cabmen have such bad manners that a lady seldom has the opportunity of this optional civility, for, unlike a similar class in europe, those who serve you for your money in america often throw in a good deal of incivility with the service, and no book of etiquette is more needed than one which should teach shop-girls and shop-men the beauty and advantages of a respectful manner. if men who drive carriages and street cabs would learn the most advantageous way of making money, they would learn to touch their hats to a lady when she speaks to them or gives an order. it is always done in the old world, and this respectful air adds infinitely to the pleasures of foreign travel. in all foreign hotels the landlords enforce such respect on the part of the waiters to the guests of the hotel that if two complaints are made of incivility, the man or woman complained of is immediately dismissed. in a livery-stable, if the hired coachman is complained of for an uncivil answer, or even a silence which is construed as incivility, he is immediately discharged. on the lake of como, if a lady steps down to a wharf to hire a boat, every boatman takes off his cap until she has finished speaking, and remains uncovered until she asks him to put on his hat. now optional civilities, such as saying to one's inferior, "do not stand without your hat," to one's equal, "do not rise, i beg of you," "do not come out in the rain to put me in my carriage," naturally occur to the kind-hearted, but they may be cultivated. it used to be enumerated among the uses of foreign travel that a man went away a bear and came home a gentleman. it is not natural to the anglo-saxon race to be overpolite. they have no _petits soins_. a husband in france moves out an easy-chair for his wife, and sets a footstool for every lady. he hands her the morning paper, he brings a shawl if there is danger of a draught, he kisses her hand when he comes in, and he tries to make himself agreeable to her in the matter of these little optional civilities. it has the most charming effect upon all domestic life, and we find a curious allusion to the politeness observed by french sons towards their mothers and fathers in one of moliere's comedies, where a prodigal son observes to his father, who comes to denounce him, "pray, sir, take a chair," says prodigal; "you could scold me so much more at your ease if you were seated." if this was a piece of optional civility which had in it a bit of sarcasm, we can readily see that civility lends great strength to satire, and take a hint from it in our treatment of rude people. a lady once entering a crowded shop, where the women behind the counter were singularly inattentive and rude even for america, remarked to one young woman who was lounging on the counter, and who did not show any particular desire to serve her, "my dear, you make me a convert to the saturday-afternoon early-closing rule, and to the plan for providing seats for saleswomen, for i see that fatigue has impaired your usefulness to your employer." the lounger started to her feet with flashing eyes. "i am as strong as you are," said she, very indignantly. "then save yourself a report at the desk by showing me some lace," said the lady, in a soft voice, with a smile. she was served after this with alacrity. in america we are all workers; we have no privileged class; we are earning money in various servitudes, called variously law, medicine, divinity, literature, art, mercantile business, or as clerks, servants, seamstresses, and nurses, and we owe it to our work to do it not only honestly but pleasantly. it is absolutely necessary to success in the last-mentioned profession that a woman have a pleasant manner, and it is a part of the instruction of the training-school of nurses, that of civility. it is not every one who has a fascinating manner. what a great gift of fortune it is! but it is in every one's power to try and cultivate a civil manner. in the matter of "keeping a hotel"--a slang expression which has become a proverb--how well the women in europe understand their business, and how poorly the women in america understand theirs! in england and all over the continent the newly arrived stranger is received by a woman neatly dressed, with pleasant, respectful manners, who is overflowing with optional civilities. she conducts the lady to her room, asks if she will have the blinds drawn or open, if she will have hot water or cold, if she would like a cup of tea, etc.; sends a neat chambermaid to her to take her orders, gets her pen and paper for her notes--in fact, treats her as a lady should treat a guest. even in very rural districts the landlady comes out to her own door to meet the stranger, holds her neat hand to assist her to alight, and performs for her all the service she can while she is under her roof. in america a lady may alight in what is called a tavern, weary, travel-stained, and with a headache. she is shown into a waiting-room where sits, perhaps, an overdressed female in a rocking-chair violently fanning herself. she learns that this is the landlady. she asks if she can have a room, some hot water, etc. the answer may be, "i don't know; i don't have to work; perhaps jim will tell you." and it is to the man of the house that the traveller must apply. it is a favorable sign that american men are never ashamed to labor, although they may not overflow with civility. it is a very unfavorable sign for the women of america when they are afraid or ashamed of work, and when they hesitate to do that which is nearest them with civility and interest. another test of self-respect, and one which is sometimes lacking in those whom the world calls fashionable, those who have the possessions which the majority of us desire, fine houses, fine clothes, wealth, good position, etc., is the lack or the presence of "fine courtesy," which shall treat every one so that he or she is entirely at ease. "society is the intercourse of persons on a footing of apparent equality," and if so, any one in it who treats other people so as to make them uncomfortable is manifestly unfit for society. now an optional courtesy should be the unfailing custom of such a woman, we will say, one who has the power of giving pain by a slight, who can wound _amour propre_ in the shy, can make a _d�butante_ stammer and blush, can annoy a shy youth by a sneer. how many a girl has had her society life ruined by the cruelty of a society leader! how many a young man has had his blood frozen by a contemptuous smile at his awkwardness! how much of the native good-will of an impulsive person has been frozen into a caustic and sardonic temper by the lack of a little optional civility? the servant who comes for a place, and seats herself while the lady who speaks to her is standing, is wanting in optional civility. she sins from ignorance, and should be kindly told of her offence, and taught better manners. the rich woman who treats a guest impolitely, the landlady who sits in her rocking-chair while the traveller waits for those comforts which her house of call invites, all are guilty of the same offence. it hurts the landlady and the servant more nearly than it does the rich woman, because it renders their self-imposed task of getting a living the more difficult, but it is equally reprehensible in all three. good manners are said to be the result of a kind heart and careful home training; bad manners, the result of a coarse nature and unwise training. we are prone to believe that bad manners in americans are almost purely from want of thought. there is no more generous, kindly, or better people in the world than the standard american, but he is often an untrained creature. the thousands of emigrants who land on our shores, with privileges which they never thought to have thrust upon them, how can they immediately learn good manners? in the old world tradition of power is still so fresh that they have to learn respect for their employers there. here there are no such traditions. the first duty, then, it would seem, both for those to whom fortune has been kind and for those who are still courting her favors, would be to study optional civility; not only the decencies of life, but a little more. not only be virtuous, but have the shadows of virtue. be polite, be engaging; give a cordial bow, a gracious smile; make sunshine in a shady place. begin at home with your optional civility. not only avoid those serious breaches of manners which should cause a man to kick another man down-stairs, but go further than good manners--have _better_ manners. let men raise their hats to women, give up seats in cars, kiss the hand of an elderly lady if she confers the honor of her acquaintance upon them, protect the weak, assist the fallen, and cultivate civility; in every class of life this would oil the wheels; and especially let american women seek to mend their manners. optional civility does not in any way include familiarity. we doubt whether it is not the best of all armor against it. familiarity is "bad style." it is not civility which causes one lady to say to another, "your bonnet is very unbecoming; let me beg of you to go to another milliner." that is familiarity, which however much it may be supposed to be excess of friendship, is generally either caused by spite or by a deficiency of respect the latter is never pardonable. it is in doubtful taste to warn people of their faults, to comment upon their lack of taste, to carry them disagreeable tidings, under the name of friendship. on the continent, where diffidence is unknown, where a man, whoever he may be, has a right to speak to his fellow-man (if he does it civilly), where a woman finds other women much more polite to her than women are to each other in this country, there is no familiarity. it is almost an insult to touch the person; for instance, no one places his hand on the arm or shoulder of another person unless there is the closest intimacy; but everywhere there is an optional civility freely given between poor and poor, rich and poor, rich and rich, superiors and inferiors, between equals. it would be pleasant to follow this out in detail, the results are so agreeable and so honorable. chapter iii. good and bad society. many of our correspondents ask us to define what is meant by the terms "good society" and "bad society." they say that they read in the newspapers of the "good society" in new york and washington and newport, and that it is a record of drunkenness, flirtation, bad manners and gossip, backbiting, divorce, and slander. they read that the fashionable people at popular resorts commit all sorts of vulgarities, such as talking aloud at the opera, and disturbing their neighbors; that young men go to a dinner, get drunk, and break glasses; and one ingenuous young girl remarks, "we do not call that good society in atlanta." such a letter might have been written to that careful chronicler of "good society" in the days of charles ii., old pepys of courtly fame. the young maiden of hertfordshire, far from the court, might well have thought of rochester and such "gay sparks," and the ladies who threw glasses of wine at them, as not altogether well-bred, nor entitled to admission into "good society." we cannot blame her. it is the old story. where, too, as in our land, pleasure and luxury rule a certain set who enjoy no tradition of good manners, the contradiction in terms is the more apparent. even the external forms of respect to good manners are wanting. no such overt vulgarity, for instance, as talking aloud at the opera will ever be endured in london, because a powerful class of really well-born and well-bred people will hiss it down, and insist on the quiet which music, of all other things, demands. that is what we mean by a tradition of good manners. in humbler society, we may say as in the household of a scotch peasant, such as was the father of carlyle, the breaches of manners which are often seen in fashionable society would never occur. they would appear perfectly impossible to a person who had a really good heart and a gentle nature. the manners of a young man of fashion who keeps his hat on when speaking to a lady, who would smoke in her face, and would appear indifferent to her comfort at a supper-table, who would be contradictory and neglectful--such manners would have been impossible to thomas or john carlyle, reared as they were in the humblest poverty. it was the "london swell" who dared to be rude in their day as now. but this impertinence and arrogance of fashion should not prevent the son of a scotch peasant from acquiring, or attempting to acquire, the conventional habits and manners of a gentleman. if he have already the grace of high culture, he should seek to add to it the knowledge of social laws, which will render him an agreeable person to be met in society. he must learn how to write a graceful note, and to answer his invitations promptly; he must learn the etiquette of dress and of leaving cards; he must learn how to eat his dinner gracefully, and, even if he sees in good society men of external polish guilty of a rudeness which would have shocked the man who in the scotch highlands fed and milked the cows, he still must not forget that society demands something which was not found in the farm-yard. carlyle, himself the greatest radical and democrat in the world, found that life at craigenputtock would not do all for him, that he must go to london and edinburgh to rub off his solitary neglect of manners, and strive to be like other people. on the other band, the queen of england has just refused to receive the duke of marlborough because he notoriously ill-treated the best of wives, and had been, in all his relations of life, what they call in england a "cad." she has even asked him to give back the star and garter, the insignia once worn by the great duke, which has never fallen on shoulders so unworthy as those of the late marquis of blandford, now duke of marlborough. for all this the world has great reason to thank the queen, for the present duke has been always in "good society," and such is the reverence felt for rank and for hereditary name in england that he might have continued in the most fashionable circles for all his bad behaviour, still being courted for name and title, had not the highest lady in the land rebuked him. she has refused to receive the friends of the prince of wales, particularly some of his american favorites, this good queen, because she esteems good manners and a virtuous life as a part of good society. now, those who are not "in society" are apt to mistake all that is excessive, all that is boorish, all that is snobbish, all that is aggressive, as being a part of that society. in this they are wrong. no one estimates the grandeur of the ocean by the rubbish thrown up on the shore. fashionable society, good society, the best society, is composed of the very best people, the most polished and accomplished, religious, moral, and charitable. the higher the civilization, therefore, the better the society, it being always borne in mind that there will be found, here and there, the objectionable outgrowths of a false luxury and of an insincere culture. no doubt, among the circles of the highest nobility, while the king and queen may be people of simple and unpretending manners, there may be some arrogant and self-sufficient master of ceremonies, some malvolio whose pomposity is in strange contrast to the good-breeding of olivia. it is the lesser star which twinkles most. the "school for scandal" is a lasting picture of the folly and frivolity of a certain phase of london society in the past, and it repeats itself in every decade. there is always a mrs. candour, a sir benjamin backbite, and a scandalous college at newport, in new york, milwaukee, philadelphia, boston, baltimore, chicago, saratoga, long branch, wherever society congregates. it is the necessary imperfection, the seamy side. such is the reverse of the pattern. unfortunately, the right side is not so easily described. the colors of a beautiful bit of brocade are, when seen as a whole, so judiciously blended that they can hardly be pronounced upon individually: one only admires the _tout ensemble_, and that uncritically, perhaps. that society is bad whose members, however tenacious they be of forms of etiquette and elaborate ceremonials, have one code of manners for those whom they deem their equals, and another for those whom they esteem to be of less importance to them by reason of age, pecuniary condition, or relative social influence. bad manners are apt to prove the concomitant of a mind and disposition that are none too good, and the fashionable woman who slights and wounds people because they cannot minister to her ambition, challenges a merciless criticism of her own moral shortcomings. a young girl who is impertinent or careless in her demeanor to her mother or her mother's friends; who goes about without a chaperon and talks slang; who is careless in her bearing towards young men, permitting them to treat her as if she were one of themselves; who accepts the attention of a young man of bad character or dissipated habits because he happens to be rich; who is loud in dress and rough in manner--such a young girl is "bad society," be she the daughter of an earl or a butcher. there are many such instances of audacity in the so-called "good society" of america, but such people do not spoil it; they simply isolate themselves. a young man is "bad society" who is indifferent to those older than himself, who neglects to acknowledge invitations, who sits while a lady stands, who goes to a ball and does not speak to his host, who is selfish, who is notoriously immoral and careless of his good name, and who throws discredit on his father and mother by showing his ill-breeding. no matter how rich, how externally agreeable to those whom he may wish to court, no matter how much varnish of outward manner such a man may possess, he is "bad society." a parvenue who assumes to keep other people out of the society which she has just conquered, whose thoughts are wholly upon social success (which means, with her, knowing somebody who has heretofore refused to know her), who is climbing, and throwing backward looks of disdain upon those who also climb--such a woman, unfortunately too common in america, is, when she happens to have achieved a fashionable position, one of the worst instances of bad society. she may be very prominent, powerful, and influential. she may have money and "entertain," and people desirous of being amused may court her, and her bad manners will be accepted by the careless observer as one of the concomitants of fashion. the reverse is true. she is an interloper in the circles of good society, and the old fable of the ass in the lion's skin fits her precisely. many a duchess in england is such an interloper; her supercilious airs betray the falsity of her politeness, but she is obliged by the rules of the court at which she has been educated to "behave like a lady;" she has to counterfeit good-breeding; she cannot, she dare not, behave as a woman who has suddenly become rich may sometimes, nay does, behave in american society, and still be received. it will thus be seen, as has been happily expressed, that "fashion has many classes, and many rules of probation and admission." a young person ignorant of its laws should not be deluded, however, by false appearances. if a young girl comes from the most secluded circles to saratoga, and sees some handsome, well-dressed, conspicuous woman much courted, lionized, as it were, and observes in her what seems to be insolent pretence, unkindness, frivolity, and superciliousness, let her inquire and wait before she accepts this bit of brass for pure gold. emerson defines "sterling fashion as funded talent." its objects may be frivolous or objectless; but, in the long-run, its purposes are neither frivolous nor accidental. it is an effort for good society; it is the bringing together of admirable men and women in a pleasant way. good-breeding, personal superiority, beauty, genius, culture, are all very good things. every one delights in a person of charming manners. some people will forgive very great derelictions in a person who has charming manners, but the truly good society is the society of those who have virtue and good manners both. some englishman asked an american, "what sort of a country is america?" "it is a country where everybody can tread on everybody's toes," was the answer. it is very bad society where any one wishes to tread on his neighbor's toes, and worse yet where there is a disposition to feel aggrieved, or to show that one feels aggrieved. there are certain people new in society who are always having their toes trodden upon. they say: "mrs. brown snubbed me; mrs. smith does not wish to know me; mrs. thompson ought to have invited me. i am as good as any of them." this is very bad society. no woman with self-respect will ever say such things. if one meets with rudeness, take no revenge, cast no aspersions. wit and tact, accomplishments and social talents, may have elevated some woman to a higher popularity than another, but no woman will gain that height by complaining. command of temper, delicacy of feeling, and elegance of manner--all these are demanded of the persons who become leaders of society, and would remain so. they alone are "good society." their imitators may masquerade for a time, and tread on toes, and fling scorn and insult about them while in a false and insecure supremacy; but such pretenders to the throne are soon unseated. there is a dreadful sedan and strasburg awaiting them. they distrust their own flatterers; their "appanage" is not a solid one. people who are looking on at society from a distance must remember that women of the world are not always worldly women. they forget that brilliancy in society may be accompanied by the best heart and the sternest principle. the best people of the world are those who know the world best. they recognize the fact that this world should be known and served and treated with as much respect and sincerity as that other world, which is to be our reward for having conquered the one in which we live now. chapter iv. on introducing people. a lady in her own house can in these united states do pretty much as she pleases, but there is one thing in which our cultivated and exclusive city fashionable society seems agreed, and that is, that she must not introduce two ladies who reside in the same town. it is an awkward and an embarrassing restriction, particularly as the other rule, which renders it easy enough--the english rule--that the "roof is an introduction," and that visitors can converse without further notice, is not understood. so awkward, however, are americans about this, that even in very good houses one lady has spoken to another, perhaps to a young girl, and has received no answer, "because she had not been introduced;" but this state of ignorance is, fortunately, not very common. it should be met by the surprised rejoinder of the hoosier school-mistress: "don't yer know enough to speak when yer spoken to?" let every woman remember, whether she is from the backwoods, or from the most fashionable city house, that no such casual conversation can hurt her. it does not involve the further acquaintance of these two persons. they may cease to know each other when they go down the front steps; and it would be kinder if they would both relieve the lady of the house of their joint entertainment by joining in the conversation, or even speaking to each other. a hostess in this land is sometimes young, embarrassed, and not fluent. the presence of two ladies with whom she is not very well acquainted herself, and both of whom she must entertain, presents a fearful dilemma. it is a kindness to her, which should outweigh the dangers of making an acquaintance in "another set," if those ladies converse a little with each other. if one lady desires to be introduced to another, the hostess should ask if she may do so, of course unobtrusively. sometimes this places one lady in an unlucky position towards another. she does not know exactly what to do. mrs. so-and-so may have the gift of exclusiveness, and may desire that mrs. that-and-that shall not have the privilege of bowing to her. gurowski says, in his very clever book on america, that snobbishness is a peculiarity of the fashionable set in america, because they do not know where they stand. it is the peculiarity of vulgar people everywhere, whether they sit on thrones or keep liquor-shops; snobs are born--not made. if, ever, a lady has this gift or this drawback of exclusiveness, it is wrong to invade her privacy by introducing people to her. introducing should not be indiscriminately done either at home or in society by any lady, however kind-hearted. her own position must be maintained, and that may demand a certain loyalty to her own set. she must be careful how she lets loose on society an undesirable or aggressive man, for instance, or a great bore, or a vulgar, irritating woman. these will all be social obstacles to the young ladies of her family, whom she must first consider. she must not add to the embarrassments of a lady who has already too large a visiting list. unsolicited introductions are bad for both parties. some large-hearted women of society are too generous by half in this way. a lady should by adroit questions find out how a new acquaintance would be received, whether or not it is the desire of both parties to know each other; for, if there is the slightest doubt existing on this point, she will be blamed by both. it is often the good-natured desire of a sympathetic person that the people whom she knows well should know each other. she therefore strives to bring them together at lunch or dinner, but perhaps finds out afterwards that one of the ladies has particular objections to knowing the other, and she is not thanked. the disaffected lady shows her displeasure by being impolite to the pushing lady, as she may consider her. had no introduction taken place, she argues, she might have still enjoyed a reputation for politeness. wary women of the world are therefore very shy of introducing two women to each other. this is the awkward side. the more agreeable and, we may say, humane side has its thousands and thousands of supporters, who believe that a friendly introduction hurts no one; but we are now not talking of kindness, but of etiquette, which is decidedly opposed to indiscriminate introductions. society is such a complicated organization, and its laws are so lamentably unwritten, yet so deeply engraved on certain minds, that these things become important to those who are always winding and unwinding the chains of fashion. it is therefore well to state it as a received rule that no gentleman should ever be introduced to a lady unless her permission has been asked, and she be given an opportunity to refuse; and that no woman should be introduced formally to another woman unless the introducer has consulted the wishes of both women. no delicate-minded person would ever intrude herself upon the notice of a person to whom she had been casually introduced in a friend's drawing-room; but all the world, unfortunately, is not made up of delicate-minded persons. in making an introduction, the gentleman is presented to the lady with some such informal speech as this: "mrs. a, allow me to present mr. b;" or, "mrs. a, mr. b desires the honor of knowing you." in introducing two women, present the younger to the older woman, the question of rank not holding good in our society where the position of the husband, be he judge, general, senator, or president even, does not give his wife fashionable position. she may be of far less importance in the great world of society than some mrs. smith, who, having nothing else, is set down as of the highest rank in that unpublished but well-known book of heraldry which is so thoroughly understood in america as a tradition. it is the proper thing for a gentleman to ask a mutual friend or an acquaintance to introduce him to a lady, and there are few occasions when this request is refused. in our crowded ballrooms, chaperons often ask young men if they will be introduced to their charges. it is better before asking the young men of this present luxurious age, if they will not only be introduced, but if they propose to dance, with the young lady, else that young person may be mortified by a snub. it is painful to record, as we must, that the age of chivalry is past, and that at a gay ball young men appear as supremely selfish, and desire generally only introductions to the reigning belle, or to an heiress, not deigning to look at the humble wall-flower, who is neither, but whose womanhood should command respect. ballroom introductions are supposed to mean, on the part of the gentleman, either an intention to dance with the young lady, to walk with her, or to talk to her through one dance, or to show her some attention. men scarcely ever ask to be introduced to each other, but if a lady, through some desire of her own, wishes to present them, she should never be met by indifference on their part. men have a right to be exclusive as to their acquaintances, of course; but at a lady's table, or in her parlor, they should never openly show distaste for each other's society before her. in america it is the fashion to shake hands, and most women, if desirous of being cordial, extend their hands even on a first introduction; but it is, perhaps, more elegant to make a bow only, at a first introduction. in her own house a hostess should always extend her hand to a person brought to her by a mutual friend, and introduced for the first time. at a dinner-party, a few minutes before dinner, the hostess introduces to a lady the gentleman who is to take her down to the dining-room, but makes no further introductions, except in the case of a distinguished stranger, to whom all the company are introduced. here people, as we have said, are shy of speaking, but they should not be, for the room where they meet is a sufficient guarantee that they can converse without any loss of dignity. at large gatherings in the country it is proper for the lady to introduce her guests to each other, and it is perfectly proper to do this without asking permission of either party. a mother always introduces her son or daughter, a husband his wife, or a wife her husband, without asking permission. a gentleman, after being introduced to a lady, must wait for her to bow first before he ventures to claim her as an acquaintance. this is anglo-saxon etiquette. on the continent, however, the gentleman bows first. there the matter of the raising the hat is also important. an american gentleman takes his hat quite off to a lady; a foreigner raises it but slightly, and bows with a deferential air. between ladies but slightly acquainted, and just introduced, a very formal bow is all that is proper; acquaintances and friends bow and smile; intimate male friends simply nod, but all gentlemen with ladies raise the hat and bow if the lady recognizes a friend. introductions which take place out-of-doors, as on the lawn-tennis ground, in the hunting field, in the street, or in any casual way, are not to be taken as necessarily formal, unless the lady chooses so to consider them. the same may be said of introductions at a watering-place, where a group of ladies walking together may meet other ladies or gentlemen, and join forces for a walk or drive. introductions are needful, and should be made by the oldest lady of the party, but are not to be considered as making an acquaintance necessary between the parties if neither should afterwards wish it. it is universally conceded now that this sort of casual introduction does not involve either lady in the net-work of a future acquaintance; nor need a lady recognize a gentleman, if she does not choose to do so, after a watering-place introduction. it is always, however, more polite to bow; that civility hurts no one. there are in our new country many women who consider themselves fashionable leaders--members of an exclusive set--and who fear if they should know some other women out of that set that they would imperil their social standing. these people have no titles by which they can be known, so they preserve their exclusiveness by disagreeable manners, as one would hedge a garden by a border of prickly-pear. the result is that much ill-feeling is engendered in society, and people whom these old aristocrats call the "_nouveaux riches_," "parvenus," etc., are always having their feelings hurt. the fact remains that the best-bred and most truly aristocratic people do not find it necessary to hurt any one's feelings. an introduction never harms anybody, and a woman with the slightest tact can keep off a vulgar and a pushing person without being rude. it is to be feared that there are vulgar natures among those who aspire to be considered exclusive, and that they are gratified if they can presumably increase their own importance by seeming exclusive; but it is not necessary to dwell on such people. the place given here to the ill-bred is only conceded to them that one may realize the great demands made upon the tact and the good feeling of a hostess. she must have a quick apprehension; she may and will remember, however, that it is very easily forgiven, this kind-heartedness--that it is better to sin against etiquette than to do an unkind thing. great pains should be taken by a hostess to introduce shy people. young people are those whose pleasure must depend on introductions. it is well for a lady in presenting two strangers to say something which may break the ice, and make the conversation easy and agreeable; as, for instance, "mrs. smith, allow me to present mr. brown, who has just arrived from new zealand;" or, "mrs. jones, allow me to present mrs. walsingham, of washington--or san francisco," so that the two may naturally have a question and answer ready with which to step over the threshold of conversation without tripping. at a five-o'clock tea or a large reception there are reasons why a lady cannot introduce any one but the daughter or sister whom she has in charge. a lady who comes and knows no one sometimes goes away feeling that her hostess has been inattentive, because no one has spoken to her. she remembers europe, where the roof-tree has been an introduction, and where people spoke kindly to her and did not pass her by. dinner-parties in stiff and formal london have this great attraction: a gentleman steps up and speaks to a lady, although they have never met before, and often takes her down to dinner without an introduction. the women chat after dinner like old friends; every one knows that the roof is a sufficient guarantee. this is as it should be; but great awkwardness results in the united states if one lady speaks to another and receives no answer. "pray, can you tell me who the pianist is?" said a leader of society to a young girl near her at a private concert. the young lady looked distressed and blushed, and did not answer. having seen a deaf-mute in the room whom she knew, the speaker concluded that this young lady belonged to that class of persons, and was very much surprised when later the hostess brought up this silent personage and introduced her. "i could not speak to you before because i had not been introduced--but the pianist is mr. mills," remarked this punctilious person. "i, however, could speak to you, although we had not been formally presented. the roof was a sufficient guarantee of your respectability, and i thought from your not answering that you were deaf and dumb," said the lady. the rebuke was deserved. common-sense must interpret etiquette; "nice customs courtesy to great kings." society depends upon its social soothsayers for all that is good in it. a disagreeable woman can always find precedents for being formal and chilling; a fine-tempered woman can always find reasons enough for being agreeable. a woman would rather be a benediction than a curse, one would think. we hold it proper, all things considered, that at dinner-parties and receptions a hostess may introduce her friends to each other. so long as there is embarrassment, or the mistake made by the young lady above mentioned who would not answer a civil question; so long as these mistakes and others are made, and the result be stupidity and gloom, and a party silent and thumb-twisting, instead of gayly conversing, as it should be; so long as people do not come together easily--it is manifestly proper that the hostess should put her finger on the social pendulum, and give it a swing to start the conversational clock. all well-bred people recognize the propriety of speaking to even an enemy at a dinner-party, although they would suffer no recognition an hour later. the same principle holds good, of course, if, in the true exercise of her hospitality, the hostess should introduce some person whom she would like to commend. these are the exceptions which form the rule. care should be taken in presenting foreigners to young ladies; sometimes titles are dubious. here, a hostess is to be forgiven if she positively declines. she may say, politely, "i hardly think i know you well enough to dare to present you to that young lady. you must wait until her parents (or guardians, or chaperon) will present you." but the numbers of agreeable people who are ready and waiting to be introduced are many. the woman of literary distinction and the possessor of an honored name may be invincibly shy and afraid to speak; while her next neighbor, knowing her fame perhaps, and anxious to make her acquaintance, misconstrues shyness for pride--a masquerade which bashfulness sometimes plays; so two people, with volumes to say to each other, remain silent as fishes, until the kindly magician comes along, and, by the open sesame of an introduction, unlocks the treasure which has been so deftly hidden. a woman of fashion may enter an assembly of thinkers and find herself dreaded and shunned, until some kind word creates the _entente cordiale_. in the social entertainments of new york, the majority prefer those where the hostess introduces her guests--under, of course, these wise and proper limitations. as for forms of introduction, the simplest are best. a lady should introduce her husband as "mr. brown," "general brown," "judge brown." if he has a title she is always to give it to him. our simple forms of titular respect have been condemned abroad, and we are accused of being all "colonels" and "generals;" but a wife should still give her husband his title. in addressing the president we say "mr. president," but his wife should say, "allow me to introduce the president to you." the modesty of mrs. grant, however, never allowed her to call her many-titled husband anything but "mr. grant," which had, in her case, a sweetness above all etiquette. introductions in the homely german fatherland are universal, everybody pronouncing to everybody else the name of the lady to whom he is talking; and among our german fellow-citizens we often see a gentleman convoying a lady through a crowded assemblage, introducing her to everybody. it is a simple, cordial, and pleasant thing enough, as with them the acquaintance stops there; and a bow and smile hurt nobody. no one of heart or mind need feel afraid to talk and be agreeable, whether introduced or not, at a friend's house; even if she meets with the rebuff of a deaf-and-dumb neighbor, she need not feel heart-broken: she is right, and her stiff acquaintance is wrong. if a gentleman asks to be presented to a lady, she should signify her assent in a pleasant way, and pay her hostess, through whom the request comes, the compliment of at least seeming to be gratified at the introduction. our american ladies are sometimes a little lacking in cordiality of manner, often receiving a new acquaintance with that part of their conformation which is known as the "cold shoulder." a brusque discourtesy is bad, a very effusive courtesy and a too low bow are worse, and an overwhelming and patronizing manner is atrocious. the proper salutation lies just between the two extremes: the_ juste milieu_ is the proper thing always. in seeking introductions for ourselves, while we need not be shy of making a first visit or asking for an introduction, we must still beware of "push." there are instincts in the humblest understanding which will tell us where to draw the line. if a person is socially more prominent than ourselves, or more distinguished in any way, we should not be violently anxious to take the first step; we should wait until some happy chance brought us together, for we must be as firm in our self-respect as our neighbor is secure in her exalted position. wealth has heretofore had very little power to give a person an exclusively fashionable position. character, breeding, culture, good connections--all must help. an aristocrat who is such by virtue of an old and honored name which has never been tarnished is a power in the newest society as in the oldest; but it is a shadowy power, felt rather than described. education is always a power. to be sure, there is a tyranny in large cities of what is known as the "fashionable set," formed of people willing to spend money; who make a sort of alliance, offensive and defensive; who can give balls and parties and keep certain people out; who have the place which many covet; who are too much feared and dreaded. if those who desire an introduction to this set strive for it too much, they will be sure to be snubbed; for this circle lives by snubbing. if such an aspirant will wait patiently, either the whole autocratic set of ladies will disband--for such sets disentangle easily--or else they in their turn will come knocking at the door and ask to be received. _l'art de tenir salon_ is not acquired in an hour. it takes many years for a new and an uninstructed set to surmount all the little awkwardnesses, the dubious points of etiquette, that come up in every new shuffle of the social cards; but a modest and serene courtesy, a civility which is not servile, will be a good introduction into any society. and it is well to have that philosophical spirit which puts the best possible interpretation upon the conduct of others. be not in haste to consider yourself neglected. self-respect does not easily receive an insult. a lady who is fully aware of her own respectability, who has always lived in the best society, is never afraid to bow or call first, or to introduce the people whom she may desire should know each other. she perhaps presumes on her position, but it is very rare that such a person offends; for tact is almost always the concomitant of social success. there has been a movement lately towards the stately bows and courtesies of the past in our recent importation of old-world fashions. a lady silently courtesies when introduced, a gentleman makes a deep bow without speaking. we have had the custom of hand-shaking--and a very good custom it is--but perhaps the latest fashion in ceremonious introduction forbids it. if a gentleman carries his crush hat, and a lady her fan and a bouquet, hand-shaking may not be perfectly convenient. however, if a lady or gentleman extends a hand, it should be taken cordially. always respond to the greeting in the key-note of the giver. chapter v. visiting. no term admits of a wider interpretation than this; no subject is capable of a greater number of subdivisions. the matter of formal visiting has led to the writing of innumerable books. the decay of social visiting is a cause of regret to all the old-fashioned people who remember how agreeable it was; but our cities have grown too large for it, and in our villages the population changes too quickly. the constant effort to make the two systems shake hands, to add cordiality to formality, and to provide for all the forced conditions of a rapidly growing and constantly changing society, these are but a few of the difficulties attending this subject. the original plan of an acquaintance in a formal city circle was to call once or twice a year on all one's friends personally, with the hope and the remote expectation of finding two or three at home. when society was smaller in new york, this was possible, but it soon grew to be impossible, as in all large cities. this finally led to the establishment of a reception day which held good all winter. that became impossible and tiresome, and was narrowed down to four tuesdays, perhaps, in one month; that resolved itself into one or two five-o'clock teas; and then again, if a lady got lame or lazy or luxurious, even the last easy method of receiving her friends became too onerous, and cards were left or sent in an envelope. now, according to the strict rules of etiquette, one card a year left at the door, or one sent in an envelope, continues the acquaintance. we can never know what sudden pressure of calamity, what stringent need of economy, what exigencies of work, may prompt a lady to give up her visiting for a season. even when there is no apparent cause, society must ask no questions, but must acquiesce in the most good-natured view of the subject. still, there must be uniformity. we are not pleased to receive mrs. brown's card by post, and then to meet her making a personal visit to our next neighbor. we all wish to receive our personal visits, and if a lady cannot call on all her formal acquaintances once, she had better call on none. if she gives one reception a year and invites all her "list," she is then at liberty to refrain from either calling or sending a card, unless she is asked to a wedding or dinner, a ladies' lunch or a christening, or receives some very particular invitation which she must return by an early personal call--the very formal and the punctilious say within a week, but that is often impossible. and if a lady have a day, the call should be made on that day; it is rude to ignore the intimation. one should try to call on a reception day. but here in a crowded city another complication comes in. if a lady have four thursdays in january and several other ladies have thursdays, it may be impossible to reach all those ladies on their reception day. there is nothing for it, then, but to good-naturedly apologize, and to regret that calling hours are now reduced to between four and six in large cities. some people have too many acquaintances. if they hope to do anything in the world but drive about and leave cards, they must exonerate themselves from blame by giving a reception, having a day or an evening for receiving, and then trust to the good-nature of society, or its forgetfulness, which is about the same thing, to excuse them. happy those ladies who can give up an evening a week to their friends; that rubs out the score on the social slate, besides giving a number of people a chance to spend a very agreeable hour in that society which gathers around a hospitable lamp. the danger of this kind of hospitality is that it is abused by bores, who are too apt to congregate in numbers, and to wear out the lady of the house by using her parlor as a spot where they are safe from the rain and cold and free to bestow their tediousness on anybody, herself included. then a lady after committing herself to a reception evening often wishes to go out herself. it requires unselfishness to give up an evening to that large circle, some of whom forget it, some go elsewhere, some come too often, and sometimes, alas! no on e calls. these are the drawbacks of an "evening at home." however, it is a laudable custom; one could wish it were more common. no one can forget the eloquent thanks of such men as horace walpole, and other persons of distinction, to the misses berry, in london, who kept up their evening receptions for sixty years. but, from the trials of those who have too much visiting, we turn to the people who have all the means and appliances of visiting and no one to visit. the young married woman who comes to new york, or any other large city, often passes years of loneliness before she has made her acquaintances. she is properly introduced, we will say by her mother-in-law or some other friend, and then, after a round of visits in which she has but, perhaps, imperfectly apprehended the positions and names of her new acquaintances, she has a long illness, or she is called into mourning, or the cares of the nursery surround her, and she is shut out from society until it has forgotten her; and when she is ready to emerge, it is difficult for her to find her place again in the visiting-book. if she is energetic and clever, she surmounts this difficulty by giving a series of receptions, or engaging in charities, or working on some committee, making herself of use to society in some way; and thus picks up her dropped stitches. but some young women are without the courage and tact to do this thing; they wait, expecting that society will find them out, and, taking them up, will do all the work and leave them to accept or refuse civilities as they please. society never does this; it has too much on its hands; a few conspicuously beautiful and gifted people may occasionally receive such an ovation, but it is not for the rank and file. every young woman should try to make at least one personal visit to those who are older than herself, and she should show charity towards those who do not return this visit immediately. of course, she has a right to be piqued if her visit be persistently ignored; and she should not press herself upon a cold or indifferent acquaintance, but she should be slow to wrath; and if she is once invited to the older lady's house, it is worth a dozen calls so far as the intention of civility is concerned. it is proper to call in person, or to leave a card, after an acquaintance has lost a relative, after an engagement is announced, after a marriage has taken place, after a return from europe, and of course after an invitation has been extended; but, as society grows larger and larger, the first four visits may be omitted, and cards sent if it is impossible to pay the visits personally. most ladies in large cities are invisible except on their days; in this way alone can they hope to have any time for their own individual tastes, be these what they may--china painting, authorship, embroidery, or music. so the formal visiting gets to be a mere matter of card-leaving; and the witty author who suggested that there should be a "clearing-house for cards," and who hailed the casino at newport as a good institution for the same, was not without genius. one hates to lose time in this world while greasing the machinery, and the formal, perfunctory card-leaving is little else. could we all have abundant leisure and be sure to find our friends at home, what more agreeable business than visiting? to wander from one pleasant interior to another, to talk a little harmless gossip, to hear the last _mot_, the best piece of news, to see one's friends, their children, and the stranger within their gates--all this is charming; it is the utopia of society; it would be the apotheosis of visiting--if there were such a thing! unfortunately, it is impossible. there may be here and there a person of such exalted leisure that he can keep his accounts to society marked in one of those purple satin manuals stamped "visites," and make the proper marks every day under the heads of "address," "received," "returned visits," and "reception days," but he is a _rara avis_. certain rules are, however, immutable. a first call from a new acquaintance should be speedily returned. these are formal calls, and should be made in person between the hours of four and six in new york and other large cities. every town has its own hours for receiving, however. when calling for the first time on several ladies not mother and daughters in one family, a card should be left on each. in the first call of the season, a lady leaves her own card and those of her husband, sons, and daughters. a lady has a right to leave her card without asking for the lady of the house if it is not her day, or if there is any reason--such as bad weather, pressure of engagements, or the like--which renders time an important matter. if ladies are receiving, and she is admitted, the visitor should leave her husband's cards for the gentlemen of the family on the hall table. strangers staying in town who wish to be called upon should send their cards by post, with address attached, to those whom they would like to see. there is no necessity of calling after a tea or general reception if one has attended the festivity, or has left or sent a card on that day. for reception days a lady wears a plain, dark, rich dress, taking care, however, never to be overdressed at home. she rises when her visitors enter, and is careful to seat her friends so that she can have a word with each. if this is impossible, she keeps her eye on the recent arrivals to be sure to speak to every one. she is to be forgiven if she pays more attention to the aged, to some distinguished stranger, or to some one who has the still higher claim of misfortune, or to one of a modest and shrinking temperament, than to one young, gay, fashionable, and rich. if she neglects these fortunate visitors they will not feel it; if she bows low to them and neglects the others, she betrays that she is a snob. if a lady is not sure that she is known by name to her hostess, she should not fail to pronounce her own name. many ladies send their cards to the young brides who have come into a friend's family, and yet who are without personal acquaintance. many, alas! forget faces, so that a name quickly pronounced is a help. in the event of an exchange of calls between two ladies who have never met (and this has gone on for years in new york, sometimes until death has removed one forever), they should take an early opportunity of speaking to each other at some friend's house; the younger should approach the elder and introduce herself; it is always regarded as a kindness; or the one who has received the first attention should be the first to speak. it is well always to leave a card in the hall even if one is received, as it assists the lady's memory in her attempts to return these civilities. cards of condolence must be returned by a mourning-card sent in an envelope at such reasonable time after the death of a relative as one can determine again to take up the business of society. when the separate card of a lady is left, with her reception day printed in one corner, two cards of her husband should be left, one for the lady, the other for the master, of the house; but after the first call of the season, it is not necessary to leave the husband's card, except after a dinner invitation. it is a convenience, although not a universal custom, to have the joint names of husband and wife, as "dr. and mrs. j. b. watson," printed on one card, to use as a card of condolence or congratulation, but not as a visiting-card. these cards are used as "p. p. c." cards, and can be sent in an envelope by post. society is rapidly getting over its prejudice against sending cards by post. in europe it is always done, and it is much safer. etiquette and hospitality have been reduced to a system in the old world. it would be much more convenient could we do that here. ceremonious visiting is the machinery by which an acquaintance is kept up in a circle too large for social visiting; but every lady should try to make one or two informal calls each winter on intimate friends. these calls can be made in the morning in the plainest walking-dress, and are certainly the most agreeable and flattering of all visits. chapter vi. invitations, acceptances, and regrets. the engraving of invitation-cards has become the important function of more than one enterprising firm in every city, so that it seems unnecessary to say more than that the most plain and simple style of engraving the necessary words is all that is requisite. the english ambassador at rome has a plain, stiff, unglazed card of a large size, on which is engraved, sir augustus and lady paget request the pleasure of ______ company on thursday evening, november fifteenth, at ten o'clock. the favor of an answer is requested. the lady of the house writes the name of the invited guest in the blank space left before the word "company." many entertainers in america keep these blanks, or half-engraved invitations, always on hand, and thus save themselves the trouble of writing the whole card. sometimes, however, ladies prefer to write their own dinner invitations. the formula should always be, mr. and mrs. henry brown request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. jones's company at dinner. november fifteenth, at seven o'clock, blank st. west. these invitations should be immediately answered, and with a peremptory acceptance or a regret. never enter into any discussion or prevision with a dinner invitation. never write, saying "you will come if you do not have to leave town," or that you will "try to come," or, if you are a married pair, that you will "one of you come." your hostess wants to know exactly who is coming and who isn't, that she may arrange her table accordingly. simply say, mr. and mrs. james jones accept with pleasure the polite invitation of mr. and mrs. henry brown for dinner on november fifteenth, at seven o'clock. or if it is written in the first person, accept in the same informal manner, but quickly and decisively. after having accepted a dinner invitation, if illness or any other cause interfere with your going to the dinner, send all immediate note to your hostess, that she may fill your place. never selfishly keep the place open for yourself if there is a doubt about your going. it has often made or marred the pleasure of a dinner-party, this hesitancy on the part of a guest to send in time to her hostess her regrets, caused by the illness of her child, or the coming on of a cold, or a death in the family, or any other calamity. remember always that a dinner is a most formal affair, that it is the highest social compliment, that its happy fulfilment is of the greatest importance to the hostess, and that it must be met in the same formal spirit. it precludes, on her part, the necessity of having to make a first call if she be the older resident, although she generally calls first. some young neophytes in society, having been asked to a dinner where the elderly lady who gave it had forgotten to enclose her card, asked if they should call afterwards. of course they were bound to do so, although their hostess should have called or enclosed her card. however, one invitation to dinner is better than many cards as a social compliment. we have been asked by many, "to whom should the answer to an invitation be addressed?" if mr. and mrs. brown invite you, answer mr. and mrs. brown. if mrs. john jones asks you to a wedding, answer mrs. john jones. another of our correspondents asks, "shall i respond to the lady of the house or to the bride if asked to a wedding?" this seems so impossible a confusion that we should not think of mentioning so self-evident a fact had not the doubt arisen. one has nothing to say to the bride in answering such an invitation; the answer is to be sent to the hostess, who writes. always carefully observe the formula of your invitation, and answer it exactly. as to the card of the english ambassador, a gentleman should write: "mr. algernon gracie will do himself the honor to accept the invitation of sir augustus and lady paget." in america he would be a trifle less formal, saying, "mr. algernon gracie will have much pleasure in accepting the polite invitation of mr. and mrs. henry brown." we notice that on all english cards the "r.s.v.p." is omitted, and that a plain line of english script is engraved, saying, "the favor of an answer is requested." in this country the invitations to a dinner are always in the name of both host and hostess, but invitations to a ball, "at home," a tea, or garden-party, are in the name of the hostess alone. at a wedding the names of both host and hostess are given. and if a father entertains for his daughters, he being a widower, his name appears alone for her wedding; but if his eldest daughter presides over his household, his and her name appear together for dinners, receptions, and "at homes." many widowed fathers, however, omit the names of their daughters on the invitation. a young lady at the head of her father's house may, if she is no longer very young, issue her own cards for a tea. it is never proper for very young ladies to invite gentlemen in their own name to visit at the house, call on them, or to come to dinner. the invitation must come from the father, mother, or chaperon. at the assembly, patriarchs', charity ball, or any public affair, the word "ball" is used, but no lady invites you to a "ball" at her own house. the words "at home," with "cotillion" or "dancing" in one corner, and the hour and date, alone are necessary. if it is to be a small, informal dance, the word "informal" should be engraved in one corner. officers of the army and navy giving a ball, members of the hunt, bachelors, members of a club, heads of committees, always "request the pleasure," or, "the honor of your company." it is not proper for a gentleman to describe himself as "at home;" he must "request the pleasure." a rich bachelor of utopia who gave many entertainments made this mistake, and sent a card--"mr. horatio brown. at home. tuesday, november fourteenth. tea at four"--to a lady who had been an ambassadress. she immediately replied: "mrs. rousby is very glad to hear that mr. horatio brown is at home--she hopes that he will stay there; but of what possible consequence is that to mrs. rousby?" this was a piece of rough wit, but it told the young man of his mistake. another card, issued with the singular formula, "mrs. ferguson hopes to see mrs. rousby at the church," on the occasion of the wedding of a daughter, brought forth the rebuke, "nothing is so deceitful as human hope," the phrase is an improper one. mrs. ferguson should have "requested the pleasure." in asking for an invitation to a ball for friends, ladies must be cautious not to intrude too far, or to feel offended if refused. often a hostess has a larger list than she can fill, and she is not able to ask all whom she would wish to invite. therefore a very great discretion is to be observed on the part of those who ask a favor. a lady may always request an invitation for distinguished strangers, or for a young dancing man if she can answer for him in every way, but rarely for a married couple, and almost never for a couple living in the same city, unless newly arrived. invitations to evening or day receptions are generally "at home" cards. a lady may use her own visiting cards for five-o'clock tea. for other entertainments, "music," "lawn-tennis," "garden-party," "readings and recitals," may be engraved in one corner, or written in by the lady herself. as for wedding invitations, they are almost invariably sent out by the parents of the bride, engraved in small script on note-paper. the style can always be obtained of a fashionable engraver. they should be sent out a fortnight before the wedding-day, and are not to be answered unless the guests are requested to attend a "sit-down" breakfast, when the answer must be as explicit as to a dinner. those who cannot attend the wedding send or leave their visiting-cards either on the day of the wedding or soon after. invitations to a luncheon are generally written by the hostess on note-paper, and should be rather informal, as luncheon is an informal meal. however, nowadays ladies' luncheons have become such grand, consequential, and expensive affairs, that invitations are engraved and sent out a fortnight in advance, and answered immediately. there is the same etiquette as at dinner observed at these formal luncheons. there is such a thing, however, as a "stand-up" luncheon--a sort of reception with banquet, from which one could absent one's self without being missed. punctuality in keeping all engagements is a feature of a well-bred character, in society as well as in business, and it cannot be too thoroughly insisted upon. in sending a "regret" be particular to word your note most respectfully. never write the word "regrets" on your card unless you wish to insult your hostess. send a card without any pencilling upon it, or write a note, thus: "mrs. brown regrets that a previous engagement will deprive her of the pleasure of accepting the polite invitation of mrs. jones." no one should, in the matter of accepting or refusing an invitation, economize his politeness. it is better to err on the other side. your friend has done his best in inviting you. the question is often asked us, "should invitations be sent to people in mourning?" of course they should. no one would knowingly intrude on a house in which there is or has been death within a month; but after that, although it is an idle compliment, it is one which must be paid; it is a part of the machinery of society. as invitations are now directed by the hundreds by hired amanuenses, a lady should carefully revise her list, in order that no names of persons deceased may be written on her cards; but the members of the family who remain, and who have suffered a loss, should be carefully remembered, and should not be pained by seeing the name of one who has departed included in the invitations or wedding-cards. people in deep mourning are not invited to dinners or luncheons, but for weddings and large entertainments cards are sent as a token of remembrance and compliment. after a year of mourning the bereaved family should send out cards with a narrow black edge to all who have remembered them. let it be understood that in all countries a card sent by a private hand in an envelope is equivalent to a visit. in england one sent by post is equivalent to a visit, excepting after a dinner. nothing is pencilled on a card sent by post, except the three letters "p.p.c." no such words as "accepts," "declines," "regrets" should be written on a card. as much ill-will is engendered in new york by the loss of cards for large receptions and the like, some of which the messenger-boys fling into the gutter, it is a thousand pities that we cannot agree to send all invitations by mail. people always get letters that are sent by post, particularly those which they could do without. why should they not get their more interesting letters that contain invitations? it is considered thoroughly respectful in england, and as our people are fond of copying that stately etiquette, why should they not follow this sensible part of it? it is in every sense as complimentary to send a letter by the post as by the dirty fingers of a hired messenger. very few people in this country can afford to send by their own servants, who, again, rarely find the right address. chapter vii. cards of compliment, courtesy, condolence, and congratulation. a distinguished lady of new york, on recovering from a severe illness, issued a card which is a new departure. in admiring its fitness and the need which has existed for just such a card, we wonder that none of us have before invented something so compact and stately, pleasing and proper--that her thought had not been our thought. it reads thus, engraved in elegant script, plain and modest: "mrs. ____ presents her compliments and thanks for recent kind inquiries." this card, sent in an envelope which bears the family crest as a seal, reached all those who had left cards and inquiries for a useful and eminent member of society, who lay for weeks trembling between life and death. this card is an attention to her large circle of anxious friends which only a kind-hearted woman would have thought of, and yet the thought was all; for after that the engraver and the secretary could do the rest, showing what a labor-saving invention it is to a busy woman who is not yet sufficiently strong to write notes to all who had felt for her severe suffering. the first joy of convalescence is of gratitude, and the second that we have created an interest and compassion among our friends, and that we were not alone as we struggled with disease. therefore we may well recommend that this card should become a fashion. it meets a universal want. this may be called one of the "cards of compliment"--a phase of card-leaving to which we have hardly reached in this country. it is even more, it is a heartfelt and friendly blossom of etiquette, "just out," as we say of the apple-blossoms. now as to the use of it by the afflicted: why would it not be well for persons who have lost a friend also to have such a card engraved? "mr. r____ begs to express his thanks for your kind sympathy in his recent bereavement," etc. it would save a world of letter-writing to a person who does not care to write letters, and it would be a very pleasant token to receive when all other such tokens are impossible. for people leave their cards on a mourner, and never know whether they have been received or not. particularly is this true of apartment-houses; and when people live in hotels, who knows whether the card ever reaches its destination? we generally find that it has not done so, if we have the courage to make the inquiry. those cards which we send by a servant to make the necessary inquiries for a sick friend, for the happy mother and the new-born baby, are essentially "cards of compliment." in excessively ceremonious circles the visits of ceremony on these occasions are very elaborate--as at the court of spain, for instance; and a lady of new york was once much amused at receiving the card of a superb spanish official, who called on her newly arrived daughter when the latter was three days old, leaving a card for the "new daughter." he of course left a card for the happy mamma, and did not ask to go farther than the door, but he came in state. in england the "family" were wont to send christening cards after a birth, but this has never been the fashion in this country, and it is disappearing in england. the complimentary card issued for such events is now generally an invitation to partake of caudle--a very delicious porridge made of oatmeal and raisins, brandy, spices, and sugar, and formally served in the lady's chamber before the month's seclusion is broken. it will be remembered that tom thumb was dropped into a bowl of fermity, which many antiquarians suppose to have been caudle. nowadays a caudle party is a very gay, dressy affair, and given about six weeks after young master or mistress is ready to be congratulated or condoled with on his or her entrance upon this mundane sphere. we find in english books of etiquette very formal directions as to these cards of compliment. "cards to inquire after friends during illness must be left in person, and not sent by post. on a lady's visiting-card must be written above the printed name, 'to inquire,' and nothing else should be added to these words." for the purpose of returning thanks, printed cards are sold, with the owner's name written above the printed words. these printed cards are generally sent by post, as they are despatched while the person inquired after is still an invalid. these cards are also used to convey the intelligence of the sender's recovery. therefore they would not be sent while the person was in danger or seriously ill. but this has always seemed to us a very poor and. business-like way of returning "kind inquiries." the printed card looks cheap. far better the engraved and carefully prepared card of mrs. ____, which has the effect of a personal compliment. we do not in this country send those hideous funeral or memorial cards which are sold in england at every stationer's to apprise one's friends of a death in the family. there is no need of this, as the newspapers spread the sad intelligence. there is, however, a very elaborate paper called a "_faire part_," issued in both england and france after a death, in which the mourner announces to you the lamented decease of some person connected with him. also on the occasion of a marriage, these elaborate papers, engraved on a large sheet of letter-paper, are sent to all one's acquaintances in england and on the continent. visits of condolence can begin the week after the event which occasions them. personal visits are only made by relatives or very intimate friends, who will of course be their own judges of the propriety of speaking fully of the grief which has desolated the house. the cards are left at the door by the person inquiring for the afflicted persons, and one card is as good as half a dozen. it is not necessary to deluge a mourning family with cards. these cards need not be returned for a year, unless our suggestion be followed, and the card engraved as we have indicated, and then sent by post. it is not yet a fashion, but it is in the air, and deserves to be one. cards of congratulation are left in person, and if the ladies are at home the visitor should go in, and be hearty in his or her good wishes. for such visits a card sent by post would, among intimate friends, be considered cold-blooded. it must at least be left in person. now as to cards of ceremony. these are to be forwarded to those who have sent invitations to weddings, carefully addressed to the person who invites you; also after an entertainment to which you have been asked, within a week after a dinner (this must be a personal visit), and on the lady's "day," if she has one; and we may add here that if on making a call a lady sees that she is not recognized, she should hasten to give her name. (this in answer to many inquiries.) only calls of pure ceremony are made by handing in cards, as at a tea or general reception, etc. when cards have been left once in the season they need not be left again. under the mixed heads of courtesy and compliment should be those calls made to formally announce a betrothal. the parents leave the cards of the betrothed pair, with their own, on all the connections and friends of the two families. this is a formal announcement, and all who receive this intimation should make a congratulatory visit if possible. as young people are often asked without their parents, the question arises, what should the parents do to show their sense of this attention? they should leave or send their cards with those of their children who have received the invitation. these are cards of courtesy. cards ought not to be left on the daughters of a family without also including the parents in courteous formality. gentlemen, when calling on any number of ladies, send in only one card, and cards left on a reception day where a person is visiting are not binding on the visitor to return. no separate card is left on a guest on reception days. when returning visits of ceremony, as the first visit after a letter of introduction, or as announcing your arrival in town or your intended departure, one may leave a card at the door without inquiring for the lady. attention to these little things is a proof at once of self-respect and of respect for one's friends. they soon become easy matters of habit, and of memory. to the well-bred they are second nature. no one who is desirous of pleasing in society should neglect them. a lady should never call on a gentleman unless professionally or officially. she should knock at his door, send in her card, and be as ceremonious as possible, if lawyer, doctor, or clergyman. on entering a crowded drawing-room it may be impossible to find the hostess at once, so that in many fine houses in new york the custom of announcing the name has become a necessary fashion. it is impossible to attempt to be polite without cultivating a good memory. the absent or self-absorbed person who forgets names and faces, who recalls unlucky topics, confuses relationships, speaks of the dead as if they were living, or talks about an unlucky adventure in the family, who plunges into personalities, who metaphorically treads on a person's toes, will never succeed in society. he must consider his "cards of courtesy." the french talk of "_la politesse du foyer_." they are full of it. small sacrifices, little courtesies, a kindly spirit, insignificant attentions, self-control, an allowance for the failings of others--these go to make up the elegance of life. true politeness has its roots very deep. we should not cultivate politeness merely from a wish to please, but because we would consider the feelings and spare the time of others. cards of compliment and courtesy, therefore, save time as well as express a kindly remembrance. everything in our busy world--or "whirl," as some people call it--that does these two things is a valuable discovery. a card of courtesy is always sent with flowers, books, bonbonnieres, game, sweetmeats, fruits--any of the small gifts which are freely offered among intimate friends. but in acknowledging these gifts or attentions a card is not a sufficient return. nor is it proper to write "regrets" or "accepts" on a card. a note should be written in either case. a card of any sort must be scrupulously plain. wedding cards should be as simple and unostentatious as possible. the ceremony of paying visits and of leaving cards has been decided by the satirist as meaningless, stupid, and useless; but it underlies the very structure of society. visits of form, visits of ceremony, are absolutely necessary. you can hardly invite people to your house until you have called and have left a card. and thus one has a safeguard against intrusive and undesirable acquaintances. to stop an acquaintance, one has but to stop leaving cards. it is thus done quietly but securely. gentlemen who have no time to call should be represented by their cards. these may well be trusted to the hands of wife, mother, daughter, sister, but should be punctiliously left. the card may well be noted as belonging only to a high order of development. no monkey, no "missing link," no zulu, no savage, carries a card. it is the tool of civilization, its "field-mark and device." it may be improved; it may be, and has been, abused; but it cannot be dispensed with under our present environment. chapter viii. the etiquette of weddings. scarcely a week passes during the year that the fashionable journals do not publish "answers to correspondents" on that subject of all others most interesting to young ladies, the etiquette of weddings. no book can tell the plain truth with sufficient emphasis, that the etiquette at a grand wedding is always the same. the next day some one writes to a newspaper again, "shall the bridegroom wear a dress-coat at the hour of eleven a.m., and who pays for the wedding-cards?" the wedding of to-day in england has "set the fashion" for america. no man ever puts on a dress-coat before his seven-o'clock dinner, therefore every bridegroom is dressed in a frock-coat and light trousers of any pattern he pleases; in other words, he wears a formal morning dress, drives to the church with his best man, and awaits the arrival of the bride in the vestry-room. he may wear gloves or not as he chooses. the best man is the intimate friend, sometimes the brother, of the groom. he accompanies him to the church, as we have said, follows him to the altar, stands at his right hand a little behind him, and holds his hat during the marriage-service. after that is ended he pays the clergyman's fee, accompanies, in a coup� by himself, the bridal party home, and then assists the ushers to introduce friends to the bridal pair. the bridegroom is allowed to make what presents he pleases to the bride, and to send something in the nature of a fan, a locket, a ring, or a bouquet to the bridesmaids; he has also to buy the wedding-ring, and, of course, he sends a bouquet to the bride; but he is not to furnish cards or carriages or the wedding-breakfast; this is all done by the bride's family. in england the groom is expected to drive the bride away in his own carriage, but in america even that is not often allowed. the bride meantime is dressed in gorgeous array, generally in white satin, with veil of point-lace and orange blossoms, and is driven to the church in a carriage with her father, who gives her away. her mother and other relatives having preceded her take the front seats. her bridesmaids should also precede her, and await her in the chancel of the church. the ushers then proceed to form the procession with which almost all city weddings are begun. the ushers first, two and two; then the bridesmaids, two and two; then some pretty children--bridesmaids under ten; and then the bride, leaning on her father's right arm. sometimes the child bridesmaids precede the others. as the cortege reaches the lowest altar-step the ushers break ranks and go to the right and left; the bridesmaids also separate, going to the right and left, leaving a space for the bridal pair. as the bride reaches the lowest step the bridegroom advances, takes her by her right hand, and conducts her to the altar, where they both kneel. the clergyman, being already in his place, signifies to them when to rise, and then proceeds to make the twain one. the bridal pair walk down the aisle arm-in-arm, and are immediately conducted to the carriage and driven home; the rest follow. in some cases, but rarely in this country, a bridal register is signed in the vestry. formerly brides removed the whole glove; now they adroitly cut the finger of the left-hand glove, so that they can remove that without pulling off the whole glove for the ring. such is a church wedding, performed a thousand times alike. the organ peals forth the wedding-march, the clergyman pronounces the necessary vows to slow music, or not, as the contracting parties please. music, however, adds very much to this ceremony. in a marriage at home, the bridesmaids and best man are usually dispensed with. the clergyman enters and faces the company, the bridal pair follow and face him. after the ceremony the clergyman retires, and the wedded pair receive congratulations. an attempt has been made in america to introduce the english fashion of a wedding-breakfast. it is not as yet acclimated, but it is, perhaps, well to describe here the proper etiquette. the gentlemen and ladies who are asked to this breakfast should be apprised of that honor a fortnight in advance, and should accept or decline immediately, as it has all the formality of a dinner, and seats are, of course, very important. on arriving at the house where the breakfast is to be held, the gentlemen leave their hats in the hall, but ladies do not remove their bonnets. after greeting the bride and bridegroom, and the father and mother, the company converse for a few moments until breakfast is announced. then the bride and groom go first, followed by the bride's father with the groom's mother, then the groom's father with the bride's mother, then the best man with the first bridesmaid, then the bridesmaids with attendant gentlemen, who have been invited for this honor, and then the other invited guests, as the bride's mother has arranged. coffee and tea are not offered, but bouillon, salads, birds, oysters, and other hot and cold dishes, ices, jellies, etc., are served at this breakfast, together with champagne and other wines, and finally the wedding-cake is set before the bride, and she cuts a slice. the health of the bride and groom is then proposed by the gentleman chosen for this office, generally the father of the groom, and responded to by the father of the bride. the groom is sometimes expected to respond, and he proposes the health of the bridesmaids, for which the best man returns thanks. unless all are unusually happy speakers, this is apt to be awkward, and "stand-up" breakfasts are far more commonly served, as the french say, _en buffet_. in the first place, the possibility of asking more people commends this latter practice, and it is far less trouble to serve a large, easy collation to a number of people standing about than to furnish what is really a dinner to a number sitting down. wedding presents are sent any time within two months before the wedding, the earlier the better, as many brides like to arrange their own tables artistically, if the presents are shown. also, all brides should write a personal note thanking each giver for his gift, be it large or small. all persons who send gifts should be invited to the wedding and to the reception, although the converse of this proposition does not hold true; for not all who are asked to the wedding are expected to send gifts. wedding presents have now become almost absurdly gorgeous. the old fashion, which was started among the frugal dutch, of giving the young couple their household gear and a sum of money with which to begin, has now degenerated into a very bold display of wealth and ostentatious generosity, so that friends of moderate means are afraid to send anything. even the cushion on which a wealthy bride in new york was lately expected to kneel was so elaborately embroidered with pearls that she visibly hesitated to press it with her knee at the altar. silver and gold services, too precious to be trusted to ordinary lock and key, are displayed at the wedding and immediately sent off to some convenient safe. this is one of the necessary and inevitable overgrowths of a luxury which we have not yet learned to manage. in france they do things better, those nearest of kin subscribing a sum of money, which is sent to the bride's mother, who expends it in the bridal trousseau, or in jewels or silver, as the bride pleases. so far has this custom transcended good taste that now many persons of refined minds hesitate to show the presents. after giving an hour and a half to her guests, the bride retires to change her dress; generally her most intimate friends accompany her. she soon returns in her travelling-dress, and is met at the foot of the stairs by the groom, who has also changed his dress. the father, mother, and intimate friends kiss the bride, and, as the happy pair drive off, a shower of satin slippers and rice follows them. if one slipper alights on the top of the carriage, luck is assured to them forever. wedding-cake is no longer sent about. it is neatly packed in boxes; each guest takes one, if she likes, as she leaves the house. wedding-favors made of white ribbon and artificial flowers are indispensable in england, but america has had the good taste to abjure them until lately. such ornaments are used for the horses' ears and the servants' coats in this country. here the groom wears a _boutonniere_ of natural flowers. a widow should never be accompanied by bridesmaids, or wear a veil or orange-blossoms at her marriage. she should at church wear a colored silk and a bonnet. she should be attended by her father, brother, or some near friend. it is proper for her to remove her first wedding-ring, as the wearing of that cannot but be painful to the bridegroom. if married at home, the widow bride may wear a light silk and be bonnetless, but she should not indulge in any of the signs of first bridal. it is an exploded idea that of allowing every one to kiss the bride. it is only meet that the near relatives do that. the formula for wedding-cards is generally this: mr. and mrs. brown request the pleasure of your company at the wedding of their daughter maria to john stanley, at ascension church, on tuesday, november fifteenth, at two o'clock. these invitations are engraved on note-paper. if friends are invited to a wedding-breakfast or a reception at the house, that fact is stated on a separate card, which is enclosed in the same envelope. of course in great cities, with a large acquaintance, many are asked to the church and not to the house. this fact should never give offence. the smaller card runs in this fashion: reception at b street, at half-past two. to these invitations the invited guests make no response save to go or to leave cards. all invited guests, however, are expected to call on the young couple and to invite them during the year. of course there are quieter weddings and very simple arrangements as to serving refreshments: a wedding-cake and a decanter of sherry often are alone offered to the witnesses of a wedding. many brides prefer to be married in travelling-dress and hat, and leave immediately, without congratulations. the honey-moon in our busy land is usually only a fortnight in the sky, and some few bridal pairs prefer to spend it at the quiet country house of a friend, as is the english fashion. but others make a hurried trip to niagara, or to the thousand islands, or go to europe, as the case may be. it is extraordinary that none stay at home; in beginning a new life all agree that a change of place is the first requisite. after the return home, bridal dinners and parties are offered to the bride, and she is treated with distinction for three months. her path is often strewed with flowers from the church to her own door, and it is, metaphorically, so adorned during the first few weeks of married life. every one hastens to welcome her to her new condition, and she has but to smile and accept the amiable congratulations and attentions which are showered upon her. let her parents remember, however, in sending cards after the wedding, to let the bride's friends know where she can be found in her married estate. now as to the time for the marriage. there is something exquisitely poetical in the idea of a june wedding. it is the very month for the softer emotions and for the wedding journey. in england it is the favorite month for marriages. may is considered unlucky, and in an old almanac of we find the following notice: "times prohibiting marriage: marriage comes in on the th day of january and at septuagesima sunday; it is out again until low sunday, at which time it comes in again and goes not out until rogation sunday. thence it is forbidden until trinity sunday, from whence it is unforbidden until advent sunday; but then it goes out and comes not in again until the th of january next following." our brides have, however, all seasons for their own, excepting may, as we have said, and friday, an unlucky day. the month of roses has very great recommendations. the ceremony is apt to be performed in the country at a pretty little church, which lends its altar-rails gracefully to wreaths, and whose gothic windows open upon green lawns and trim gardens. the bride and her maids can walk over the delicate sward without soiling their slippers, and an opportunity offers for carrying parasols made entirely of flowers. but if it is too far to walk, the bride is driven to church in her father's carriage with him alone, her mother, sisters, and bridesmaids having preceded her. in england etiquette requires that the bride and groom should depart from the church in the groom's carriage. it is strict etiquette there that the groom furnish the carriage with which they return to the wedding-breakfast and afterwards depart in state, with many wedding-favors on the horses' heads, and huge white bouquets on the breasts of coachman and footman. it is in england, also, etiquette to drive with four horses to the place where the honey-moon is to be spent; but in america the drive is generally to the nearest railway-station. let us give a further sketch of the duties of the best man. he accompanies the groom to the church and stands near him, waiting at the altar, until the bride arrives; then he holds the groom's hat. he signs the register afterwards as witness, and pays the clergyman's fee, and then follows the bridal procession out of the church, joining the party at the house, where he still further assists the groom by presenting the guests. the bridesmaids sometimes form a line near the door at a june wedding, allowing the bride to walk through this pretty alley-way to the church. the bridegroom's relatives sit at the right of the altar or communion rails, thus being on the bridegroom's right hand, and those of the bride sit on the left, at the bride's left hand. the bridegroom and best man stand on the clergyman's left hand at the altar. the bride is taken by her right hand by the groom, and of course stands on his left hand; her father stands a little behind her. sometimes the female relatives stand in the chancel with the bridal group, but this, can only happen in a very large church; and the rector must arrange this, as in high churches the marriages take place outside the chancel. after the ceremony is over the clergyman bends over and congratulates the young people. the bride then takes the left arm of the groom, and passes down the aisle, followed by her bridesmaids and the ushers. some of our correspondents have no good asked us what the best man is doing at this moment? probably waiting in the vestry, or, if not, he hurries down a side aisle, gets into a carriage, and drives to the house where the wedding reception is to be held. october is a good month for both city and country weddings. in our climate, the brilliant october days, not too warm, are admirable for the city guests, who are invited to a country place for the wedding, and certainly it is a pleasant season for the wedding journey. travelling costumes for brides in england are very elegant, even showy. velvet, and even light silks and satins, are used; but in our country plain cloth and cashmere costumes are more proper and more fashionable. for weddings in families where a death has recently occurred, all friends, even the widowed mother, should lay aside their mourning for the ceremony, appearing in colors. it is considered unlucky and inappropriate to wear black at a wedding. in our country a widowed mother appears at her daughter's wedding in purple velvet or silk; in england she wears deep cardinal red, which is considered, under these circumstances, to be mourning, or proper for a person who is in mourning. we should add that ushers and groomsmen are unknown at an english wedding. the sexton of the church performs the functions which are attended to here by ushers. note.--the young people who are about to be married make a list together as to whom cards should be sent, and all cards go from the young lady's family. no one thinks it strange to get cards for a wedding. a young lady should write a note of thanks to every one who sends her a present before she leaves home; all her husband's friends, relatives, etc., all her own, and to people whom she does not know these notes should especially be written, as their gifts may be prompted by a sense of kindness to her parents or her _fianc�_, which she should recognize. it is better taste to write these notes on note-paper than on cards. it is not necessary to send cards to each member of a family; include them all under the head of "mr. and mrs. brown and family." it would be proper for a young lady to send her cards to a physician under whose care she has been if she was acquainted with him socially, but it is not expected when the acquaintance is purely professional. a fashionable and popular physician would be swamped with wedding-cards if that were the custom. if, however, one wishes to show gratitude and remembrance, there would be no impropriety in sending cards to such a gentleman. chapter ix. "who pays for the cards?" we have received a number of letters from our correspondents asking whether the groom pays for the wedding cards. this question we have answered so often in the negative that we think it well to explain the philosophy of the etiquette of weddings, which is remotely founded on the early savage history of mankind, and which bears fruit in our later and more complex civilization, still reminding us of the past. in early and in savage days the man sought his bride heroically, and carried her off by force. the tartar still does this, and the idea only was improved in patriarchal days by the purchase of the bride by the labor of her husband, or by his wealth in flocks and herds. it is still a theory that the bride is thus carried off. always, therefore, the idea has been cherished that the bride is something carefully guarded, and the groom is looked upon as a sort of friendly enemy, who comes to take away the much-prized object from her loving and jealous family. thus the long-cherished theory bears fruit in the english ceremonial, where the only carriage furnished by the groom is the one in which he drives the bride away to the spending of the honeymoon. up to that time he has had no rights of proprietorship. even this is not allowed in america among fashionable people, the bride's father sending them in his own carriage on the first stage of their journey. it is not etiquette for the groom to furnish anything for his own wedding but the ring and a bouquet for the bride, presents for the bridesmaids and the best man, and some token to the ushers. he pays the clergyman. he should _not_ pay for the cards, the carriages, the entertainment, or anything connected with the wedding. this is decided in the high court of etiquette. that is the province of the family of the bride, and should be insisted upon. if they are not able to do this, there should be no wedding and no cards. it is better for a portionless girl to go to the altar in a travelling dress, and to send out no sort of invitations or wedding cards, than to allow the groom to pay for them. this is not to the disparagement of the rights of the groom. it is simply a proper and universal etiquette. at the altar the groom, if he is a millionaire, makes his wife his equal by saying, "with all my worldly goods i thee endow;" but until he has uttered these words she has no claim on his purse for clothes, or cards, or household furnishing, or anything but those articles which come under the head of such gifts as it is a lover's province to give. a very precise, old-time aristocrat of new york broke her daughter's engagement to a gentleman because he brought her a dress from paris. she said, if he did not know enough _not_ to give her daughter clothes while she was under her roof, he should not have her. this is an exaggerated feeling, but the principle is a sound one. the position of a woman is so delicate, the relations of engaged people so uncertain, that it would bring about an awkwardness if the gentleman were to pay for the shoes, the gowns, the cards of his betrothed. suppose, as was the case twice last winter, that an engagement of marriage is broken after the cards are out. who is to repay the bridegroom if _he_ has paid for the cards? should the father of the bride send him a check? that would be very insulting, yet a family would feel nervous about being under pecuniary indebtedness to a discarded son-in-law. the lady can return her ring and the gifts her lover has made her; they have suffered no contact that will injure them. but she could not return shoes or gowns or bonnets. it is therefore wisely ordered by etiquette that the lover be allowed to pay for nothing that could not be returned to him without loss, if the engagement were dissolved, even on the wedding morning. of course in primitive life the lover may pay for his lady-love, as we will say in the case of a pair of young people who come together in a humble station. such marriages are common in america, and many of these pairs have mounted to the very highest social rank. but they must not attempt anything which is in imitation of the etiquette of fashionable life unless they can do it well and thoroughly. nothing is more honorable than a marriage celebrated in the presence only of father, mother, and priest. two young people unwilling or unable to have splendid dresses, equipages, cards, and ceremony, can always be married this way, and go to the senate or white house afterwards. they are not hampered by it hereafter. but the bride should never forget her dignity. she should never let the groom pay for cards, or for anything, unless it is the marriage license, wherever it is needful in this country, and the clergyman's fee. if she does, she puts herself in a false position. a very sensible observer, writing of america and its young people, and the liberty allowed them, says "the liberty, or the license, of our youth will have to be curtailed. as our society becomes complex and artificial, like older societies in europe, our children will be forced to approximate to them in status, and parents will have to waken to a sense of their responsibilities." this is a remark which applies at once to that liberty permitted to engaged couples in rural neighborhoods, where the young girl is allowed to go on a journey at her lover's expense. a girl's natural protectors should know better than to allow this. they know that her purity is her chief attraction to man, and that a certain coyness and virginal freshness are the dowry she should bring her future husband. suppose that this engagement is broken off. how will she be accepted by another lover after having enjoyed the hospitality of the first? would it not always make a disagreeable feeling between the two men, although no. might have perfect respect for the girl? etiquette may sometimes make blunders, but it is generally based on a right principle, and here it is undoubtedly founded in truth and justice. in other countries this truth is so fully realized that daughters are guarded by the vigilance of parents almost to the verge of absurdity. a young girl is never allowed to go out alone, and no man is permitted to enter the household until his character has undergone the closest scrutiny. marriage is a unique contract, and all the various wrongs caused by hasty marriages, all the troubles before the courts, all the divorces, are multiplied by the carelessness of american parents, who, believing, and truly believing, in the almost universal purity of their daughters, are careless of the fold, not remembering the one black sheep. this evil of excessive liberty and of the loose etiquette of our young people cannot be rooted out by laws. it must begin at the hearth-stone, family life must be reformed; young ladies must be brought up with greater strictness. the bloom of innocence should not be brushed off by careless hands. if a mother leaves her daughter matronless, to receive attentions without her dignified presence, she opens the door to an unworthy man, who may mean marriage or not. he may be a most unsuitable husband even if he _does_ mean marriage. if he takes the young lady about, paying for her cab hire, her theatre tickets, and her journeyings, and then drops her, whom have they to thank but themselves that her bloom is brushed off, that her character suffers, that she is made ridiculous, and marries some one whom she does not love, for a home. men, as they look back on their own varied experience, are apt to remember with great respect the women who were cold and distant. they love the fruit which hung the highest, the flower which was guarded, and which did not grow under their feet in the highway. they look back with vague wonder that they were ever infatuated with a fast girl who matured into a vulgar woman. and we must remember what a fatal effect upon marriage is the loosing of the ties of respect. love without trust is without respect, and if a lover has not respected his _fianc�e_, he will never respect his wife. it is the privilege of the bride to name the wedding day, and of her father and mother to pay for her trousseau. after the wedding invitations are issued she does not appear in public. the members of the bride's family go to the church before the bride; the bridegroom and his best man await them at the altar. the bride comes last, with her father or brother, who is to give her away. she is joined at the altar step by her _fianc�_, who takes her hand, and then she becomes his for life. all these trifles mean much, as any one can learn who goes through with the painful details of a divorce suit. now when the circle of friends on both sides is very extensive, it has of late become customary to send invitations to some who are not called to the wedding breakfast to attend the ceremony in church. this sometimes takes the place of issuing cards. no one thinks of calling on the newly married who has not received either an invitation to the ceremony at church or cards after their establishment in their new home. now one of our correspondents writes to us, "who pays for the _after_-cards?" in most cases these are ordered with the other cards, and the bride's mother pays for them. but if they are ordered after the marriage, the groom may pay for these as he would pay for his wife's ordinary expenses. still, it is stricter etiquette that even these should be paid for by the bride's family. people who are asked to the wedding send cards to the house if they cannot attend, and in any case send or leave cards within ten days after, unless they are in very deep mourning, when a dispensation is granted them. the etiquette of a wedding at home does not differ at all from the etiquette of a wedding in church with regard to cards. a great confusion seems to exist in the minds of some of our correspondents as to whom they shall send their return cards on being invited to a wedding. some ask: "shall i send them to the bride, as i do not know her mother?" certainly not; send them to whomsoever invites you. afterwards call on the bride or send her cards, but the first and important card goes to the lady who gives the wedding. the order of the religious part of the ceremony is fixed by the church in which it occurs. the groom must call on the rector or clergyman, see the organist, and make what arrangements the bride pleases, but, we repeat, all _expenses_, excepting the fee to the clergyman, are borne by the bride's family. the sexton should see to it that the white ribbon is stretched across the aisle, that the awning and carpet are in place, and it would be well if the police regulations could extend to the group of idlers who crowd around the church door, to the great inconvenience of the guests. a wedding invitation requires no answer, unless it be to a sit-down wedding breakfast. cards left afterwards are all-sufficient. the separate cards of the bride and groom are no longer included in the invitation. nothing black in the way of dress but the gentlemen's coats is admissible at a wedding. chapter x. weddings after easter. we may expect a great deal of color in the coming bridal trousseau, beginning at the altar. the bridesmaids have thus lost one chance of distinguishing themselves by a different and a colored dress. but although some eccentric brides may choose to be married in pink, we cannot but believe, from the beautiful dresses which we have seen, that the greater number will continue to be wedded in white; therefore dressmakers need not turn pale. and all our brides may rejoice that they are not french brides. it is very troublesome to be married in france, especially if one of the high contracting parties be a foreigner. a certificate of baptism is required, together with that of the marriage of the father and mother, and a written consent of the grandfather and grandmother, if either is alive and the parents dead. the names of the parties are then put up on the door of the _mairie_, or mayor's office, for eleven days. in england there are four ways of getting married. the first is by special license, which enables two people to be married at any time and at any place; but this is very expensive, costing fifty pounds, and is only obtainable through an archbishop. then there is the ordinary license, which can be procured either at doctors' commons or through a clergyman, who must also be a surrogate, and resident in the diocese where the marriage is to take place; both parties must swear that they are of age, or, if minors, that they have the consent of their parents. but to be married by banns is considered the most orthodox as well as the most economical way of proceeding. the banns must be published in the church of the parish in which the lady lives for three consecutive sundays prior to the marriage, also the same law holds good for the gentleman, and the parties must have resided fifteen days in the parish. or the knot may be tied at a licensed chapel, or at the office of a registrar, notice being given three weeks previously. we merely quote these safeguards against imprudent marriages to show our brides how free they are. and perhaps, as we sometimes find, they are too free; there is danger that there may be too much ease in tying the knot that so many wish untied later, judging from the frequency of divorce. however, we will not throw a damper on that occasion which for whirl and bustle and gayety and excitement is not equalled by any other day in a person's life. the city wedding in new york is marked first by the arrival of the caterer, who comes to spread the wedding breakfast; and later on by the florist, who appears to decorate the rooms, to hang the floral bell, or to spread the floral umbrella, or to build a grotto of flowers in the bow-window where the happy couple shall stand. some of the latest freaks in floral fashion cause a bower of tall-growing ferns to be constructed, the ferns meeting over the bridal pair. this is, of course, supposing that the wedding takes place at home. then another construction is a house entirely of roses, large enough to hold the bride and bridegroom. this is first built of bamboo or light wood, then covered thick with roses, and is very beautiful and almost too fragrant. if some one had not suggested "bathing-house," as he looked at this floral door to matrimony, it would have been perfect. it also looks a little like a confessional. perhaps a freer sweep is better for both bride and groom. there should not be a close atmosphere, or too many overfragrant flowers; for at a home wedding, however well the arrangements have been anticipated, there is always a little time spent in waiting for the bride, a few presents arrive late, and there is always a slight confusion, so that the mamma is apt to be nervous and flushed, and the bride agitated. a church wedding involves a great deal more trouble with carriages for the bridesmaids and for the family, and for the bride and her father, who must go together to the church. fortunately there is no stern law, if every one is late at church, for the hour appointed, as in england. there the law would read, "the rite of marriage is to be performed between the hours of a.m. and noon, upon pain of suspension and felony with fourteen years' transportation." such is the stern order to the officiating priests. the reason for this curious custom and the terrible penalty awaiting its infringement is traceable, it is said, to the wrongs committed on innocent parties by the "hedge" parsons. also, alas! because our english ancestors were apt to be drunk after midday, and unable to take an oath. here the guests arrive first at the church. the groom emerges from the vestry, supported by his best man, and then the organ strikes up the wedding march. two little girls, beautifully dressed in kate greenaway hats and white gowns, and with immense sashes, carrying bouquets, come in first; then the bridesmaids, who form an avenue. then the bride and her father walk up to the altar, where the groom claims her, and her father steps back. the bride stands on the left hand of the bridegroom; her first bridesmaid advances nearly behind her, ready to receive the glove and bouquet. after the ceremony is over, the bride and groom walk down the aisle first, and the children follow; after them the bridesmaids, then the ushers, then the father and mother, and so on. sometimes the ushers go first, to be ready to cloak the bride, open the doors, keep back the people, and generally preserve order. the signing of the register in the vestry is not an american custom, but it is now the fashion to have a highly illuminated parchment certificate signed by the newly married pair, with two or three witnesses, the bridesmaids, the best man, the father and mother, and so on, generally being the attesting parties. if a sit-down wedding breakfast has been arranged, it occurs about half an hour after the parties return from church. an attempt is being made to return to the manners of the past, and for the bridegroom (_ la_ sir charles grandison) to wait on the guests with a napkin on his arm. this often makes much amusement, and breaks in on the formality. of course his waiting is very much of a sinecure and a joke. the table for a wedding breakfast of this sort should be of a horseshoe shape. but for a city wedding, where many guests are to be invited in a circle which is forever widening, this sort of an exclusive breakfast is almost impossible, and a large table is generally spread, where the guests go in uninvited, and are helped by the waiters. eight bridesmaids is a fashionable number; and the bride has, of course, the privilege of choosing the dresses. the prettiest toilettes we have seen were of heliotrope _gaze_ over satin; and again clover red, lighted up with white lace. the bonnets were of white chip, with feathers of red, for this last dress; broad hats of yellow satin, with yellow plumes, will surmount the heliotrope bridesmaids. one set of bridesmaids will wear nile-green dresses, with pink plumes in their coiffures; another set, probably those with the pink bride, will be in white satin and silver. a bride's dress has lately been ornamented with orange blossoms and lilacs. the veil was fastened on with orange flowers; the corsage bouquet was of orange flowers and lilacs mixed; the lace over-dress was caught up with lilac sprays; the hand bouquet wholly of lilacs; the gardener's success in producing these dwarf bushes covered with white lilacs has given us the beautiful flower in great perfection. cowslips are to be used as corsage and hand bouquets for bridesmaids' dresses, the dresses being of pale blue surah, with yellow satin gainsborough hats, and yellow plumes. white gloves and shoes are proper for brides. the white undressed kid or swedish glove will be the favorite; and high princesse dresses with long sleeves are still pronounced the best style. as for wedding presents, great favor is shown to jewelry and articles somewhat out of the common. vases of costly workmanship, brass wine-coolers, enamelled glass frames, small mirrors set in silver, belt clasps, pins of every sort of conceit for the hair, choice old louis treize silver boxes of curious design, and watches, even old miniatures, are all of the order of things most desired. so many of our spring brides are going immediately to europe that it seems absurd to load them down with costly dinner sets, or the usual lamps and pepper-casters. these may come later. how much prettier to give the bride something she can wear! wedding presents, if shown, will be in the second-story front room, spread on tables and surrounded by flowers. some brides will give an afternoon tea the day before to show the presents to a few intimate friends. each present will bear the name of the giver on his or her card. one bride intends to make a most original innovation. instead of going immediately out of town, she will remain at home and attend the bachelors' ball, in the evening, leaving for philadelphia at three in the morning. at several of the church weddings the guests are only bidden there; there will be no reception. widows who are to be married again should be reminded that they can neither have wedding favors nor wear a veil or orange blossoms. a widow bride should wear a bonnet, she should have no bridesmaids, and a peach-blossom silk or velvet is a very pretty dress. at a certain up-town wedding all the gentlemen will wear a wedding favor excepting the groom. he always wears only a flower. wedding favors should be made of white ribbon and silver leaves. large bouquets of white flowers should ornament the ears of the horses and the coats of the coachmen and footmen. it is a matter of taste whether the bride wears her gloves to the altar or whether she goes up with uncovered hands. "high-church" brides prefer the latter custom, the bride carries a prayer-book, if she prefers, instead of a bouquet. the holy communion is administered to the married pair if they desire it. one correspondent inquires, "who should be asked to a wedding?" we should say all your visiting list, or none. there is an unusual feeling about being left out at a wedding, and no explanation that it is "a small and not general invitation" seems to satisfy those who are thus passed over. it is much better to offend no one on so important an occasion. wedding cards and wedding stationery have not altered at all. the simple styles are the best. the bridal linen should be marked with the maiden name of the bride. if brides could only find out some way to let their friends know where they are to be found after marriage it, would be a great convenience. the newest style of engagement ring is a diamond and a ruby, or a diamond and a sapphire, set at right angles or diagonally. bangles with the bridal monogram set in jewels are very pretty, and a desirable ornament for the bridesmaids' gifts, serving as a memento and a particularly neat ornament. they seem to have entirely superseded the locket. the bride's name cut in silver or gold serves for a lace pin, and is quite effective. chapter xi. summer weddings. a new fashion in the engraving of the wedding note-paper is the first novelty of the early summer wedding. the card is entirely discarded, and sheets of note-paper, with the words of the invitation in _very fine_ running script, are now universally used, without crests or ciphers. we are glad to see that the very respectful form of invitation, "mr. and mrs. john h. brown request the honor of your presence," etc., is returning to fashionable favor. it never should have gone out. nothing is more self-respecting than respect, and when we ask our friends to visit us we can well afford to be unusually courteous. the brief, curt, and not too friendly announcement, "mr. and mrs. john h. brown request your presence," etc., etc., may well yield to the much more elegant and formal compliment. from high social authority in new york we have an invitation much simpler and more cordial, also worthy of imitation: "mr. and mrs. winslow appleblossom request the pleasure of your company at the wedding reception of their daughter, on tuesday afternoon june the sixteenth." this is without cards or names, presuming that the latter will follow later on. another very comprehensive and useful announcement of a wedding, from a lady living out of town, conveys, however, on one sheet of paper the desired information of where to find the bride: _mrs. seth osborne announces the marriage of her daughter margu�rite to mr. joseph wendon, on wednesday, september the ninth, at bristol, connecticut. at home after january first, at wood street._ this card of announcement is a model of conciseness, and answers the oft-repeated question, "where shall we go to find the married couple next winter?" in arranging the house for the spring wedding the florists have hit upon a new device of having only _one_ flower in masses; so we hear of the apple-blossom wedding, the lilac wedding, the lily wedding, the rose wedding and the daffodil wedding, the violet wedding, and the daisy wedding. so well has this been carried out that at a recent daisy wedding the bride's lace and diamond ornaments bore the daisy pattern, and each bridesmaid received a daisy pin with diamond centre. this fashion of massing a single flower has its advantages when that flower is the beautiful feathery lilac, as ornamental as a plume; but it is not to be commended when flowers are as sombre as the violet, which nowadays suggests funerals. daffodils are lovely and original, and apple-blossoms make a hall in a queen anne mansion very decorative. no one needs to be told that roses look better for being massed, and it is a pretty conceit for a bride to make the flower which was the ornament of her wedding _her_ flower for life. the passion for little girls as bridesmaids receives much encouragement at the spring and summer weddings. one is reminded of the children weddings of the fifteenth century, as these darlings, wearing kate greenaway hats, walk up the aisle, preceding the bride. the young brother of the bride, a mere boy, who, in the fatherless condition of his sister, recently gave her away, also presented a touching picture. it has become a fashion now to invoke youth as well as age to give the blessings once supposed to be alone at the beck and call of those whom time had sanctified. the bridal dresses are usually of white satin and point lace, a preference for tulle veils being very evident. a pin for the veil, with a diamond ornament, and five large diamonds hanging by little chains, makes a very fine effect, and is a novelty. the groom at a recent wedding gave cat's-eyes set round with diamonds to his ushers for scarf pins, the cat's-eye being considered a very lucky stone. the ushers and the groom wear very large _boutonnieres_ of stephanotis and gardenias, or equally large bunches of lilies-of-the-valley, in their button-holes. at one of the country weddings of the spring a piper in full scotch costume discoursed most eloquent music on the lawn during the wedding ceremony. this was a compliment to the groom, who is a captain in a highland regiment. a prevailing fashion for wedding presents is to give heavy pieces of furniture, such as sideboards, writing-tables, cabinets, and pianos. a favorite dress for travelling is heliotrope cashmere, with bonnet to match. for a dark bride nothing is more becoming than dark blue tailormade with white vest and sailor collar. gray cashmere with steel passementerie has also been much in vogue. a light gray mohair, trimmed with lace of the same color, was also much admired. we have mentioned the surroundings of the brides, but have not spoken of the background. a screen hung with white and purple lilacs formed the background of one fair bride, a hanging curtain of jacque-minot roses formed the appropriate setting of another. perhaps the most regal of these floral screens was one formed of costly orchids, each worth a fortune. one of the most beautiful of the spring wedding dresses was made of cream-white satin over a tulle petticoat, the tulle being held down by a long diagonal band of broad pearl embroidery, the satin train trimmed with bows of ribbon in true-lovers' knots embroidered in seed-pearls; a shower of white lilacs trimmed one side of the skirt. another simple dress was made of white silk, trimmed with old venetian point, the train of striped ivory point and white satin depending _ la_ watteau from the shoulders, and fastened at the point of the waist. at the side three large pleats formed a drapery, which was fringed with orange-blossoms. from england we hear of the most curious combinations as to travelling-dresses. biscuit-colored canvas, embroidered around the polonaise in green and gold, while the skirt is edged with a broad band of green velvet. the new woollen laces of all colors make a very good effect in the "going-away dress" of a bride. we are often asked by summer brides whether they should wear bonnets or round hats for their travelling-dress. we unhesitatingly say bonnets. a very pretty wedding bonnet is made of lead-colored beads without foundation, light and transparent; strings of red velvet and a bunch of red plums complete this bonnet. gold-colored straw, trimmed with gold-brown velvet and black net, makes a pretty travelling-bonnet. open-work black straw trimmed with black lace and red roses, very high in the crown, with a "split front," is a very becoming and appropriate bonnet for a spring costume. a pretty dress for the child bridemaids is a pink faille slip covered with dotted muslin, not tied in at the waist, and the broadest of high gainsborough hats of pale pink silk with immense bows, from the well-known pictures of gainsborough's pretty women. but if a summer bride must travel in a bonnet, there is no reason that her trousseau should not contain a large leghorn hat, the straw caught up on the back in long loops, the spaces between filled in with bows of heliotrope ribbon. the crown should be covered with white ostrich tips. this is a very becoming hat for a lawn party. it would be a charming addition to our well-known and somewhat worn-out wedding-march, always played as the bride walks up the aisle, if a chorus of choir boys would sing an epithalamium, as is now done in england. these fresh young voices hailing the youthful couple would be in keeping with the child bridesmaids and the youthful brothers. nay, they would suggest those frescoes of the italian villas where hymen and cupid, two immortal boys, always precede the happy pair. it is a pleasant part of weddings everywhere that the faithful domestics who have loved the bride from childhood are expected to assist by their presence at the ceremony, each wearing a wedding favor made by the fair hand of the bride herself. an amusing anecdote is told of a yorkshire coachman, who, newly arrived in america, was to drive the bride to church. not knowing him, particularly as he was a new addition to the force, the bride sent him his favor by the hands of her maid. but yorkshire decided stoutly against receiving such a vicarious offering, and remarked, "tell she i'd rather 'ave it from she." and so "she" was obliged to come down and affix the favor to his livery coat, or he would have resigned the "ribbons." the nurses, the cook, the maids, and the men-servants in england always expect a wedding favor and a small gratuity at a wedding, and in this country should be remembered by a box of cake, and possibly by a new dress, cap, or bonnet, or something to recall the day. the plan of serving the refreshments at a buffet all through the reception retains its place as the most convenient and appropriate of forms. the wedding breakfast, where toasts are drunk and speeches made, is practicable in england, but hardly here, where we are not to the manner born. the old trained domestics who serve such a feast can not be invented at will in america, so that it is better to allow our well-filled tables to remain heavily laden, as they are, with dainties which defy competition, served by a corps of waiters. the pretty plan of cutting the bride cake and hunting for a ring has been long exploded, as the bridesmaids declare that it ruins their gloves, and that in these days of eighteen buttons it is too much trouble to take off and put on a glove for the sake of finding a ring in a bit of greasy pastry. however, it might supplement a wedding supper. chapter xii. autumn weddings. the first thing which strikes the eye of the fortunate person who is invited to see the bridal gifts is the predominance of silver-ware. we have now passed the age of bronze and that of brass, and silver holds the first place of importance. not only the coffee and tea sets, but the dinner sets and the whole furniture of the writing-table, and even brooms and brushes, are made with repouss� silver handles--the last, of course, for the toilette, as for dusting velvet, feathers, bonnets, etc. the oxidized, ugly, discolored silver is not so fashionable as it was, and the beautiful, bright, highly polished silver, with its own natural and unmatchable color, has come in. the salvers afford a splendid surface for a monogram, which is now copied from the old dutch silver, and bears many a true-lovers' knot, and every sort and kind of ornamentation; sometimes even a little verse, or posy, as it was called in olden time. one tea-caddy at a recent wedding bore the following almost obsolete rhyme, which corydon might have sent to phyllis in pastoral times: "my heart to you is given; oh do give yours to me: we'll lock them up together, and throw away the key." it should be added that the silver tea-caddy was in the shape of a heart, and that it had a key. very dear to the heart of a housewife is the tea-caddy which can be locked. another unique present was a gold tea scoop of ancient pattern, probably once a baby's pap spoon. there were also apostle-spoons, and little silver canoes and other devices to hold cigarettes and ashes; little mysterious boxes for the toilette, to hold the tongs for curling hair, and hair-pins; mirror frames, and even chair-backs and tables--all of silver. several beautiful umbrellas, with all sorts of handles, recalled the anecdote of the man who said he first saw his wife in a storm, married her in a storm, lived with her in a hurricane, but buried her in pleasant weather; parasols with jewelled handles, and beautiful painted fans, are also favorite offerings to the newly married. friends conspire to make their offerings together, so that there may be no duplicates, and no pieces in the silver service which do not match. this is a very excellent plan. old pieces like silver tankards, queen anne silver, and the ever beautiful baltimore workmanship, are highly prized. it is no longer the fashion to display the presents at the wedding. they are arranged in an upper room, and shown to a few friends of the bride the day before the ceremony. nor is it the fashion for the bride to wear many jewels. these are reserved for her first appearance as a married woman. clusters of diamond stars, daisies, or primroses that can be grouped together are now favorite gifts. in this costly gift several friends join again, as in the silver presentation. diamond bracelets that can be used as necklaces are also favorite presents. all sorts of vases, bits of china, cloisonn�, clocks (although there is not such a stampede of clocks and lamps as a few years ago), choice etchings framed, and embroidered table-cloths, doyleys, and useful coverings for bureau and wash-stands, are in order. the bride now prefers simplicity in her dress--splendid and costly simplicity. an elegant white-satin and a tulle veil, the latter very full, the former extremely long and with a sweeping train, high corsage, and long sleeves, long white gloves, and perhaps a flower in the hair--such is the latest fashion for an autumn bride. the young ladies say they prefer that their magnificence should wait for the days after marriage, when their jewels can be worn. there is great sense in this, for a bride is interesting enough when she is simply attired. the solemnization of the marriage should be in a church, and a high ecclesiastical functionary should be asked to solemnize it. the guests are brought in by the ushers, who, by the way, now wear pearl-colored kid-gloves, embroidered in black, as do the groom and best man. the front seats are reserved for the relatives and intimate friends, and the head usher has a paper on which are written the names of people entitled to these front seats. the seats thus reserved have a white ribbon as a line of demarcation. music should usher in the bride. the fashion of bridesmaids has gone out temporarily, and one person, generally a sister, alone accompanies the bride to the altar as her female aid. the bride, attended by her father or near friend, comes in last, after the ushers. after her mother, sister, and family have preceded her, these near relatives group themselves about the altar steps. her sister, or one bridesmaid, stands near her at the altar rail, and kneels with her and the bridegroom, as does the best man. the groom takes his bride from the hand of her father or nearest friend, who then retires and stands a little behind the bridal pair. he must be near enough to respond quickly when he hears the words, "who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" the bride and groom walk out together after the ceremony, followed by the nearest relatives, and proceed to the home where the wedding breakfast is served. here the bridal pair stand under an arch of autumn-leaves, golden-rod, asters, and other seasonable flowers, and receive their friends, who are presented by the ushers. the father and mother do not take any stated position on this occasion, but mingle with the guests, and form a part of the company. in an opulent countryhouse, if the day is fine, little tables are set out on the lawn, the ladies seat themselves around, and the gentlemen carry the refreshments to them; or the piazzas are beautifully decorated with autumn boughs and ferns, flowers, evergreens, and the refreshments are served there. if it is a bad day, of course the usual arrangements of a crowded buffet are in order; there is no longer a "sit-down" wedding breakfast; it does not suit our american ideas, as recent experiments have proved. we have many letters asking if the gentlemen of the bride's family should wear gloves. they should, and, as we have indicated, they should be of pearl-colored kid, embroidered in the seams with black. the one bridesmaid must be dressed in colors. at a recent very fashionable wedding the bridesmaid wore bright buttercup yellow, a real directoire dress, white lace skirt, yellow bodice, hat trimmed with yellow--a very picturesque, pretty costume. the silk stockings and slippers were of yellow, the hat of leghorn, very large, turned up at one side, yellow plumes, and long streamers of yellow-velvet ribbon. yellow is now esteemed a favorite color and a fortunate one. it once was deemed the synonym for envy, but that has passed away. the carrying of an ivory prayer-book was found to be attended with inconvenience, therefore was discontinued. still, if a young lady wishes to have her prayer-book associated with her vows at the altar, she can properly carry it. brides are, however, leaving their bouquets at home, as the immense size of a modern bouquet interfered with the giving and taking of the ring. a very pretty bit of ornamentation for an autumn wedding is the making of a piece of tapestry of autumn leaves to hang behind the bride as she receives. this can be done by sewing the leaves on a piece of drugget on which some artist has drawn a clever sketch with chalk and charcoal. we have seen some really elaborate and artistic groups done in this way by earnest and unselfish girl friends. romeo and juliet, hamlet and ophelia, tristan and iseult, can thus be made to serve as decorations. the walls of the church can, of course, be exquisitely decorated with palms in an oriental pattern, flowers, and leaves. the season is one when nature's bounty is so profuse that even the fruits can be pressed into service. care should be taken not to put too many tuberoses about, for the perfume is sickening to some. the engagement ring should be worn on the third finger of the left hand. it should have a solitaire stone--either a diamond or a colored stone. colored stones and diamonds, set diagonally, as a sapphire and a diamond, are also worn; but not a pearl, as, according to the german idea, "pearls are tears for a bride." the wedding ring is entirely different, being merely a plain gold ring, not very wide nor a square band, as it was a few years since, and the engagement ring is worn as a guard above the wedding ring. it is not usual for the bride expectant to give a ring to her intended husband, but many girls like to give an engagement gift to their betrothed. inside the engagement ring is the date of the engagement and the initials of each of the contracting parties. the wedding ring has the date of the marriage and the initials. if the marriage takes place at home, the bride and groom enter together, and take their place before the clergyman, who has already entered; then come the father and mother and other friends. a pair of hassocks should be arranged for the bridal pair to kneel upon, and the father should be near to allow the clergyman to see him when he asks for his authority. for autumn weddings nothing is so pretty for the travelling-dress as a tailor-made costume of very light cloth, with sacque to match for a cold day. no travelling-dress should of itself be too heavy, as our railway carriages are kept so very warm. we have been asked to define the meaning of the word "honeymoon." it comes from the germans, who drank mead, or metheglin--a beverage made of honey--for thirty days after the wedding. the bride-cake is no longer cut and served at weddings; the present of cake in boxes has superseded that. at the wedding breakfast the ices are now packed in fancy boxes, which bear nuptial mottoes and orange-blossoms and violets on their surfaces. as the ring is the expressive emblem of the perpetuity of the compact, and as the bride-cake and customary libations form significant symbols of the nectar sweets of matrimony, it will not do to banish the cake altogether, although few people eat it, and few wish to carry it away. among the romans, june was considered the most propitious month for marriage; but with the anglo-saxons october has always been a favorite and auspicious season. we find that the festival has always been observed in very much the same way, whether druidical, pagan, or christian. we have been asked, who shall conduct the single bridesmaid to the altar? it should be the brother of the groom, her own _fianc�_, or some chosen friend--never the best man; he does not leave his friend the groom until he sees him fairly launched on that hopeful but uncertain sea whose reverses and whose smiles are being constantly tempted. "that man must lead a happy life who is directed by a wife. who's freed from matrimonial claims is sure to suffer for his pains." this is a "posy" for some october silver. chapter xiii. before the wedding and after. the reception of an engaged girl by the family of her future husband should be most cordial, and no time should be lost in giving her a warm welcome. it is the moment of all others when she will feet such a welcome most gratefully, and when any neglect will be certain to give her the keenest unhappiness. it is the fashion for the mother of the groom to invite both the family of the expectant bride and herself to a dinner as soon as possible after the formal announcement of the engagement. the two families should meet and should make friendships at once. this is important. it is to these near relatives that the probable date of the wedding-day is first whispered, in time to allow of much consultation and preparation in the selection of wedding gifts. in opulent families each has sometimes given the young couple a silver dinner service and much silver besides, and the rooms of the bride's father's house look like a jeweller's shop when the presents are shown. all the magnificent ormolu ornaments for the chimney-piece, handsome clocks and lamps, fans in large quantities, spoons, forks by the hundred, and of late years the fine gilt ornaments, furniture, camel's-hair shawls, bracelets--all are piled up in most admired confusion. and when the invitations are out, then come in the outer world with their more hastily procured gifts; rare specimens of china, little paintings, ornaments for the person--all, all are in order. a present is generally packed where it is bought, and sent with the giver's card from the shop to the bride directly. she should always acknowledge its arrival by a personal note written by herself. a young bride once gave mortal offence by not thus acknowledging her gifts. she said she had so many that she could not find time to write the notes, which was naturally considered boastful and most ungracious. gifts which owe their value to the personal taste or industry of the friend who sends are particularly complimentary. a piece of embroidery, a painting, a water-color, are most flattering gifts, as they betoken a long and predetermined interest. no friend should be deterred from sending a small present, one not representing a money value, because other and richer people can send a more expensive one. often the little gift remains as a most endearing and useful souvenir. as for showing the wedding gifts, that is a thing which must be left to individual taste. some people disapprove of it, and consider it ostentatious; others have a large room devoted to the display of the presents, and it is certainly amusing to examine them. as for the conduct of the betrothed pair during their engagement, our american mammas are apt to be somewhat more lenient in their views of the liberty to be allowed than are the english. with the latter, no young lady is allowed to drive alone with her _fianc�_; there must be a servant in attendance. no young lady must visit in the family of her _fianc�_, unless he has a mother to receive her. nor is she allowed to go to the theatre alone with him, or to travel under his escort, to stop at the same hotel, or to relax one of those rigid rules which a severe chaperon would enforce; and it must be allowed that this severe and careful attention to appearances is in the best taste. as for the engagement-ring, modern fashion prescribes a diamond solitaire, which may range in price from two hundred and fifty to two thousand dollars. the matter of presentation is a secret between the engaged pair. evening weddings do not differ from day weddings essentially, except that the bridegroom wears evening dress. if the wedding is at home, the space where the bridal party is to stand is usually marked off by a ribbon, and the clergyman comes down in his robes before the bridal pair; they face him, and he faces the company. hassocks are prepared for them to kneel upon. after the ceremony the clergyman retires, and the bridal party take his place, standing to receive their friends' congratulations. should there be dancing at a wedding, it is proper for the bride to open the first quadrille with the best man, the groom dancing with the first bridesmaid. it is not, however, very customary for a bride to dance, or for dancing to occur at an evening wedding, but it is not a bad old custom. after the bridal pair return from their wedding-tour, the bridesmaids each give them a dinner or a party, or show some attention, if they are so situated that they can do so. the members of the two families, also, each give a dinner to the young couple. it is now a very convenient and pleasant custom for the bride to announce with her wedding-cards two or more reception days during the winter after her marriage, on which her friends can call upon her. the certainty of finding a bride at home is very pleasing. on these occasions she does not wear her wedding-dress, but receives as if she had entered society as one of its members. the wedding trappings are all put away, and she wears a dark silk, which may be as handsome as she chooses. as for wearing her wedding-dress to balls or dinners after her marriage, it is perfectly proper to do so, if she divests herself of her veil and her orange-blossoms. the bride should be very attentive and conciliatory to all her husband's friends, they will look with interest upon her from the moment they hear of the engagement, and it is in the worst taste for her to show indifference to them. quiet weddings, either in church or at the house, are very much preferred by some families. indeed, the french, from whom we have learned many--and might learn more--lessons of grace and good taste, infinitely prefer them. for a quiet wedding the bride dresses in a travelling dress and bonnet, and departs for her wedding-tour. it is the custom in england, as we have said, for the bride and groom to drive off in their own carriage, which is dressed with white ribbons, the coach-man and groom wearing white bouquets, and favors adorning the horses' ears, and for them to take a month's honeymoon. there also the bride (if she be hannah rothschild or the baroness burdett-coutts) gives her bridesmaids very elegant presents, as a locket or a bracelet, while the groom gives the best man a scarf-pin or some gift. the american custom is not so universal. however, either bride or groom gives something to the bridesmaid and a scarf-pin to each usher. thus a wedding becomes a very expensive and elaborate affair, which quiet and economical people are sometimes obliged to avoid. after the marriage invitations are issued, the lady does not appear in public. the period of card-leaving after a wedding is not yet definitely fixed. some authorities say ten days, but that in a crowded city, and with an immense acquaintance, would be quite impossible. if only invited to the church, many ladies consider that they perform their whole duty by leaving a card sometime during the winter, and including the young couple in their subsequent invitations. very rigorous people call, however, within ten days, and if invited to the house, the call is still more imperative, and should be made soon after the wedding. but if a young couple do not send their future address, but only invite one to a church-wedding, there is often a very serious difficulty in knowing where to call, and the first visit must be indefinitely postponed until they send cards notifying their friends of their whereabouts. wedding invitations require no answer. but people living at a distance, who cannot attend the wedding, should send their cards by mail, to assure the hosts that the invitation has been received. the usual form for wedding-cards is this: mr. and mrs. theodore chapman request your presence at the marriage of their daughter, on wednesday evening, november fourth, at eight o'clock. grace church. the card of the young lady, that of her intended husband, and another card to the favored-- at home after the ceremony, east market street-- is also enclosed. people with a large acquaintance cannot always invite all their friends, of course, to a wedding reception, and therefore invite all to the church. sometimes people who are to give a small wedding at home request an answer to the wedding invitation; in that case, of course, an answer should be sent, and people should be very careful not to ignore these flattering invitations. any carelessness is inexcusable when so important an event is on the _tapis_. bridesmaids, if prevented by illness or sudden bereavement from officiating, should notify the bride as soon as possible, as it is a difficult thing after a bridal cort�ge is arranged to reorganize it. as to the wedding-tour, it is no longer considered obligatory, nor is the seclusion of the honey-moon demanded. a very fashionable girl who married an englishman last summer at newport returned in three days to take her own house at newport, and to receive and give out invitations. if the newly married pair thus begin house-keeping in their own way, they generally issue a few "at home" cards, and thereby open an easy door for future hospitalities. certainly the once perfunctory bridal tour is no longer deemed essential, and the more sensible fashion exists of the taking of a friend's house a few miles out of town for a month. if the bridal pair go to a watering-place during their early married days, they should be very careful of outward display of tenderness. such exhibitions in the cars or in public places as one often sees, of the bride laying her head on her husband's shoulder, holding hands, or kissing, are at once vulgar and indecent. all public display of an affectionate nature should be sedulously avoided. the affections are too sacred for such outward showing, and the lookers-on are in a very disagreeable position. the french call love-making _l'...... deux_, and no egotism is agreeable. people who see a pair of young doves cooing in public are apt to say that a quarrel is not far off. it is possible for a lover to show every attention, every assiduity, and not to overdo his demonstrations. it is quite possible for the lady to be fond of her husband without committing the slightest offence against good taste. the young couple are not expected, unless fortune has been exceptionally kind, to be immediately responsive in the matter of entertainments. the outer world is only too happy to entertain them. nothing can be more imprudent than for a young couple to rush into expenditures which may endanger their future happiness and peace of mind, nor should they feel that they are obliged at once to return the dinners and the parties given to them. the time will come, doubtless, when they will be able to do so. but the announcement of a day on which the bride will receive her friends is almost indispensable. the refreshments on these occasions should not exceed tea and cake, or, at the most, punch, tea, chocolate, and cakes, which may stand on a table at one end of the room, or may be handed by a waiter. bouillon, on a cold day of winter, is also in order, and is perhaps the most serviceable of all simple refreshments. for in giving a "four-o'clock tea," or several day receptions, a large entertainment is decidedly vulgar. chapter xiv. gold, silver, and tin weddings. very few people have the golden opportunity of living together for fifty years in the holy estate of matrimony. when they have overcome in so great a degree the many infirmities of the flesh, and the common incompatibility of tempers, they deserve to be congratulated, and to have a wedding festivity which shall be as ceremonious as the first one, and twice as impressive. but what shall we give them? the gifts of gold must be somewhat circumscribed, and therefore the injunction, so severe and so unalterable, which holds good at tin and silver weddings, that no presents must be given of any other metal than that designated by the day, does not hold good at a golden wedding. a card printed in gold letters, announcing that john anderson and mary brown were married, for instance, in , and will celebrate their golden wedding in , is generally the only golden manifestation. one of the cards recently issued reads in this way: . 		 . _mr. and mrs. john anderson, at home november twenty-first, , golden wedding, carmichael street, at eight o'clock._ all done in gold, on white, thick english paper, that is nearly all the exhibition of gold necessary at a golden wedding, unless some friend gives the aged bride a present of jewellery. the bride receives her children and grandchildren dressed in some article which she wore at her first wedding, if any remain. sometimes a veil, or a handkerchief, or a fan, scarcely ever the whole dress, has lasted fifty years, and she holds a bouquet of white flowers. a wedding-cake is prepared with a ring in it, and on the frosting is the date, and the monogram of the two, who have lived together so long. these golden weddings are apt to be sad. it is not well for the old to keep anniversaries--too many ghosts come to the feast. still, if people are happy enough to wish to do so, there can be no harm in it. their surroundings may possibly surpass their fondest dreams, but as it regards themselves, the contrast is painful. they have little in common with bridal joys, and unless it is the wish of some irrepressible descendant, few old couples care to celebrate the golden wedding save in their hearts. if they have started at the foot of the ladder, and have risen, they may not wish to remember their early struggles; if they have started high, and have gradually sunk into poverty or ill health, they certainly do not wish to photograph those better days by the fierce light of an anniversary, it is only the very exceptionally good, happy, and serene people who can afford to celebrate a golden wedding. far otherwise with the silver wedding, which comes in this country while people are still young, in the very prime of life, with much before them, and when to stop midway to take an account of one's friends and one's blessings is a wise and a pleasant thing. the cards are issued, printed in silver, somewhat in this style: . 		 . _mr. and mrs. carter request the pleasure of your company on wednesday, october the twenty-seventh, at eight o'clock. silver wedding. john carter.		 sarah smith._ such, at least, is one form. many people do not, however, add their names at the end; while, again, some go even farther; and transcribe the marriage notice from the newspaper of the period. gifts of silver being comparatively inexpensive, and always useful, almost all friends who are invited send a gift of silver-ware, marked "silver wedding" or, still better, marked with an appropriate motto, and the initials of the pair, engraved in a true-lover's knot. in old dutch silver these pretty monograms and the lover's knot are very common. this was probably put upon the original wedding silver, and we know that the art was studied by such men as albrecht d�rer, benvenuto cellini, and rubens, for we find among their drawings many monograms and such devices. it adds very much to the beauty of a piece of silver to bear such engraving, and it is always well to add a motto, or a "posy," as the bid phrase has it, thus investing the gift with a personal interest, in our absence of armorial bearings. since many pretty ornaments come in silver, it is possible to vary the gifts by sometimes presenting _flacons_ (a pendant _flacon_ for the _chatelaine_: some very artistic things come in this pretty ornament now, with colored plaques representing antique figures, etc.). sometimes a costly intaglio is sunk in silver and set as a pin. clocks of silver, bracelets, statuary in silver, necklaces, picture-frames, and filigree pendants hanging to silver necklaces which resemble pearls; beautiful jewel-cases and boxes for the toilet; dressing-cases well furnished with silver; hand-mirrors set in fretted silver; bracelets, pendant seals, and medallions in high relief--all come now for gifts in the second precious metal. a very pretty gift was designed by a young artist for his mother on the celebration of her silver wedding. it was a monogram and love-knot after the fashion of the seventeenth century, and made, when joined, a superb belt-clasp, each little ornament of the relief repeating the two dates. mantle clasps of solid silver ornamented with precious stones, and known in the middle ages as _fermillets_, are pretty presents, and these ornaments can be also enriched with gold and enamel without losing their silver character. chimerical animals and floral ornaments are often used in enriching these _agrafes_. mirrors set in silver are very handsome for the toilet-table; also, brushes and combs can be made of it. all silver is apt to tarnish, but a dip in water and ammonia cleans it at once, and few people now like the white foamy silver; that which has assumed a gray tint is much more admired. indeed, artistic jewellers have introduced the hammered silver, which looks like an old tin teapot, and to the admirers of the real silver tint is very ugly; but it renders the wearing of a silver _ch�telaine_ very much easier, for the chains and ornaments which a lady now wears on her belt are sure to grow daily into the fashion. silver parasol handles are also very fashionable. we have enlarged upon this subject of gifts of silver in answer to several questions as to what it is proper to give at a silver wedding. of course the wealthy can send pitchers, vases, vegetable dishes, soup tureens, and waiters. all the beautiful things which are now made by our silversmiths are tempting to the purse. there are also handsome silver necklaces, holding old and rare coins, and curious watches of silver, resembling fruits, nuts, and animals. the farther back we go in the history of silver-ware, the better models we are sure to obtain. as for the entertainment, it includes the inevitable cake, of course, and the bride puts the knife into it as she did twenty-five years ago. the ring is eagerly sought for. then a large and plentiful repast is offered, exactly like that of any reception-table. champagne is in order, healths are drunk, and speeches made at most of these silver weddings. particularly delightful are silver weddings which are celebrated in the country, especially if the house is large enough to hold a number of guests. then many a custom can be observed of peculiar significance and friendliness; everybody can help to prepare the feast, decorate the house with flowers, and save the bride from those tearful moments which come with any retrospect. all should try to make the scene a merry one, for there is no other reason for its celebration. tin weddings, which occur after ten years have passed over two married heads, are signals for a general frolic. not only are the usual tin utensils which can be used for the kitchen and household purposes offered, but fantastic designs and ornaments are gotten up for the purpose of raising a laugh. one young bride received a handsome check from her father-in-law, who labelled it "tin," and sent it to her in a tin pocket-book elaborately constructed for the purpose. one very pretty tin fender was constructed for the fireplace of another, and was not so ugly. a tin screen, tin chandeliers, tin fans, and tin tables have been offered. if these serve no other purpose, they do admirably for theatrical properties later, if the family like private plays, etc., at home. wooden weddings occur after five years of marriage, and afford the bride much refurnishing of the kitchen, and nowadays some beautiful presents of wood-carving. the wooden wedding, which was begun in jest with a step-ladder and a rolling-pin several years ago, now threatens to become a very splendid anniversary indeed, since the art of carving in wood is so popular, and so much practised by men and women. every one is ready for a carved box, picture-frame, screen, sideboard, chair, bureau, dressing-table, crib, or bedstead. let no one be afraid to offer a bit of wood artistically carved. everything is in order but wooden nutmegs; they are ruled out. at one of the golden weddings of the rothschilds we read of such presents as a solid gold dinner service; a chased cup of benvenuto cellini in solid gold, enriched with precious stones; a box, with cover of gold, in the early renaissance, with head of marie de medicis in oxidized gold; of rings from cyprus, containing sapphires from the tombs of the crusaders; of solid crystals cut in drinking cups, with handles of gold; of jade goblets set in gold saucers; of singing-birds in gold; and of toilet appliances, all in solid gold, not to speak of chains, rings, etc. this is luxury, and as such to be commended to those who can afford it. but it must entail great inconvenience. gold is so valuable that a small piece of it goes a great way, and even a rothschild would not like to leave out a gold dressing-case, lest it might tempt the most honest of waiting-women. no doubt some of our millionaire americans can afford such golden wedding-presents, but of course they are rare, and even if common, would be less in keeping than some less magnificent gifts. our republican simplicity would be outraged and shocked at seeing so much coin of the realm kept out of circulation. there are, however, should we wish to make a present to a bride of fifty years' standing, many charming bits of gold jewellery very becoming, very artistic, and not too expensive for a moderate purse. there are the delicate productions of castellani, the gold and enamel of venice, the gold-work of several different colors which has become so artistic; there are the modern antiques, copied from the phoenician jewellery found at cyprus--these made into pins for the cap, pendants for the neck, rings and bracelets, boxes for the holding of small sweetmeats, so fashionable many years ago, are pretty presents for an elderly lady. for a gentleman it is more difficult to find souvenirs. we must acknowledge that it is always difficult to select a present for a gentleman. unless he has as many feet as briareus had hands, or unless he is a centipede, he cannot wear all the slippers given to him; and the shirt-studs and sleeve-buttons are equally burdensome. rings are now fortunately in fashion, and can be as expensive as one pleases. but one almost regrets the disuse of snuff, as that gave occasion for many beautiful boxes. it would be difficult to find, however, such gold snuffboxes as were once handed round among monarchs and among wealthy snuffers. the giving of wedding-presents has had to endure many changes since its first beginning, which was a wise and generous desire to help the young pair to begin house-keeping. it has become now an occasion of ostentation. so with the gifts at the gold and silver weddings. they have almost ceased to be friendly offerings, and are oftener a proof of the giver's wealth than of his love. no wonder that some delicate-minded people, wishing to celebrate their silver wedding, cause a line to be printed on their invitations, "no presents received." foreigners have a beautiful custom, which we have not, of remembering every f�te day, every birthday, every saint's day, in a friend's calendar. a bouquet, a present of fruit, a kind note, a little celebration which costs nothing, occurs in every family on papa's birthday or mamma's f�te day. but as we have nothing of that sort, and as most people prefer that, as in the case of the hero of the _pirates_, a birthday shall only come once in four years, it is well for us to celebrate the tin, silver, and golden weddings. the twentieth anniversary of one's wedding is never celebrated. it is considered very unlucky to do so. the scotch think one or the other will die within the year if the twentieth anniversary is even alluded to. chapter xv. the etiquette of balls. a hostess must not use the word "ball" on her invitation-cards. she may say, _mrs. john brown requests the pleasure of the company of mr. and mrs. amos smith on thursday evening, november twenty-second, at nine o'clock. dancing. 		r.s.v.p._ or, _mrs. john brown at home thursday evening, november twenty-second, at nine o'clock. cotillion at ten.		 r. s. v. p._ but she should not indicate further the purpose of her party. in new york, where young ladies are introduced to society by means of a ball at delmonico's, the invitation is frequently worded, _mr. and mrs. amos smith request the pleasure of your company thursday evening, november twenty-second, at nine o'clock. delmonico' s._ the card of the young d�butante is sometimes (although not always) enclosed. if these invitations are sent to new acquaintances, or to strangers in town, the card of the gentleman is enclosed to gentlemen, that of both the gentleman and his wife to ladies and gentlemen, if it is a first invitation. a ballroom should be very well lighted, exceedingly well ventilated, and very gayly dressed. it is the height of the gayety of the day; and although dinner calls for handsome dress, a ball demands it. young persons of slender figure prefer light, diaphanous dresses; the chaperons can wear heavy velvet and brocade. jewels are in order. a profusion of flowers in the hands of the women should add their brightness and perfume to the rooms. the great number of bouquets sent to a d�butante is often embarrassing. the present fashion is to have them hung, by different ribbons, on the arm, so that they look as if almost a trimming to the dress. gentlemen who have not selected partners before the ball come to their hostess and ask to be presented to ladies who will dance with them. as a hostess cannot leave her place while receiving, and people come at all hours to a ball, she generally asks two or three well-known society friends to receive with her, who will take this part of her duty off her hands, for no hostess likes to see "wall-flowers" at her ball: she wishes all her young people to enjoy themselves. well-bred young men always say to the hostess that they beg of her to introduce them to ladies who may be without partners, as they would gladly make themselves useful to her. after dancing with a lady, and walking about the room with her for a few times, a gentleman is at perfect liberty to take the young lady back to her chaperon and plead another engagement. a great drawback to balls in america is the lack of convenience for those who wish to remain seated. in europe, where the elderly are first considered, seats are placed around the room, somewhat high, for the chaperons, and at their feet sit the debutantes. these red-covered sofas, in two tiers, as it were, are brought in by the upholsterer (as we hire chairs for the crowded _musicales_ or readings so common in large cities), and are very convenient. it is strange that all large halls are not furnished with them, as they make every one comfortable at very little expense, and add to the appearance of the room. a row of well-dressed ladies, in velvet, brocade, and diamonds, some with white hair, certainly forms a very distinguished background for those who sit at their feet. supper is generally served all the evening from a table on which flowers, fruits, candelabra, silver, and glass are displayed, and which is loaded with hot oysters, boned turkey, salmon, game _p�t�s_, salads, ices, jellies, and fruits, from the commencement of the evening. a hot supper, with plentiful cups of bouillon, is served again for those who dance the german. but if the hostess so prefer, the supper is not served until she gives the word, when her husband leads the way with the most distinguished lady present, the rest of the company following. the hostess rarely goes in to supper until every one has been served. she takes the opportunity of walking about her ballroom to see if every one is happy and attended to. if she does go to supper, it is in order to accompany some distinguished guest--like the president, for instance. this is, however, a point which may be left to the tact of the hostess. a young lady is not apt to forget her ballroom engagements, but she should be sure not to do so. she must be careful not to offend one gentleman by refusing to dance with him, and then accepting the offer of another. such things, done by frivolous girls, injure a young man's feelings unnecessarily, and prove that the young lady has not had the training of a gentlewoman. a young man should not forget if he has asked a young lady for the german. he must send her a bouquet, and be on hand to dance with her. if kept away by sickness, or a death in his family, he must send her a note before the appointed hour. it is not necessary to take leave of your hostess at a ball. all that she requires of you is to bow to her on entering, and to make yourself as agreeable and happy as you can while in her house. young men are not always as polite as they should be at balls. they ought, if well-bred, to look about, and see if any lady has been left unattended at supper, to ask if they can go for refreshments, if they can lead a lady to a seat, go for a carriage, etc. it is not an impertinence for a young man thus to speak to a lady older than himself, even if he has not been introduced; the roof is a sufficient introduction for any such purpose. the first persons asked to dance by the young gentlemen invited to a house should be the daughters of the house. to them and to their immediate relatives and friends must the first attentions be paid. it is not wise for young ladies to join in every dance, nor should a young chaperon dance, leaving her proteg�e sitting. the very bad american custom of sending several young girls to a ball with a very young chaperon--perhaps one of their number who has just been married--has led to great vulgarity in our american city life, not to say to that general misapprehension of foreigners which offends without correcting our national vanity. a mother should endeavor to attend balls with her daughters, and to stay as long as they do. but many mothers say, "we are not invited: there is not room for us." then her daughters should not accept. it is a very poor american custom not to invite the mothers. let a lady give two or three balls, if her list is so large that she can only invite the daughters. if it be absolutely necessary to limit the invitations, the father should go with the daughters, for who else is to escort them to their carriage, take care of them if they faint, or look to their special or accidental wants? the fact that a few established old veterans of society insist upon "lagging superfluous on the stage" should not deter ladies who entertain from being true to the ideas of the best society, which certainly are in favor of chaperonage. a lady should not overcrowd her rooms. to put five hundred people into a hot room, with no chairs to rest in, and little air to breathe, is to apply a very cruel test to friendship. it is this impossibility of putting one's "five hundred dear friends" into a narrow house which has led to the giving of balls at public rooms--an innovation which shocked a french woman of rank who married an american. "you have no safeguard for society in america," she observed, "but your homes. no aristocracy, no king, no courts, no traditions, but the sacred one of home. now, do you not run great risks when you abandon your homes, and bring out your girls at a hotel?" there is something in her wise remarks; and with the carelessness of chaperonage in cities which are now largely populated by irresponsible foreigners the dangers increase. the first duty of a gentleman on entering a ballroom is to make his bow to the lady of the house and to her daughters; he should then strive to find his host--a very difficult business sometimes. young men are to be very much censured, however, who do not find out their host, and insist on being presented to him. paterfamilias in america is sometimes thought to hold a very insignificant place in his own house, and be good for nothing but to draw checks. this is indicative of a very low social condition, and no man invited to a gentleman's house should leave it until he has made his bow to the head thereof. it is proper for intimate friends to ask for invitations for other friends to a ball, particularly for young gentlemen who are "dancing men." more prudence should be exercised in asking in behalf of ladies, but the hostess has always the privilege of saying that her list is full, if she does not wish to invite her friends' friends. no offence should be taken if this refusal be given politely. in a majority of luxurious houses a tea-room is open from the beginning to the end of a ball, frequently on the second story, where bouillon, tea, coffee, and macaroons are in order, or a plate of sandwiches, or any such light refreshment, for those who do not wish a heavy supper. a large bowl of iced lemonade is also in this room--a most grateful refreshment after leaving a hot ballroom. the practice of putting crash over carpets has proved so unhealthy to the dancers, on account of the fine fuzz which rises from it in dancing, that it is now almost wholly abandoned; and parquet floors are becoming so common, and the dancing on them is so much more agreeable in every way, that ladies have their heavy parlor carpets taken up before a ball rather than lay a crash. a smoking-room, up or down stairs, is set apart for the gentlemen, where, in some houses, cigars and brandy and effervescent waters are furnished. if this provision be not made, it is the height of indelicacy for gentlemen to smoke in the dressing-rooms. the bad conduct of young men at large balls, where they abuse their privileges by smoking, getting drunk at supper, eating unreasonably, blockading the tables, and behaving in an unseemly manner, even coming to blows in the supper-rooms, has been dwelt upon in the annals of the past, which annals ever remain a disgrace to the young fashionables of any city. happily, such breaches of decorum are now so rare that there is no need to touch upon them here. many of our correspondents ask the embarrassing question, "who is it proper to invite to a first ball?" this is a question which cannot be answered in a general way. the tact and delicacy of the host must decide it. at public balls there should be managers, ushers, stewards, and, if possible, a committee of ladies to receive. it is very much more conducive to the elegance of a ball if there be a recognized hostess, or committee of hostesses: the very aspect of the room is thus improved. and to a stranger from another city these ladies should be hospitable, taking care that she be introduced and treated with suitable attention. an awning and carpet should be placed at the front entrance of a house in which a ball is to be given, to protect the guests against the weather and the gaze of the crowd of by-standers who always gather in a great city to see the well-dressed ladies alight. unfortunately, in a heavy rain these awnings are most objectionable; they are not water-proof, and as soon as they are thoroughly wet they afford no protection whatever. the cotillion styled the german was first danced by the german court just after the battle of waterloo, probably at the ball at aix-la-chapelle given to the allied sovereigns. favors are given merely to promote enjoyment and to give variety. it is not necessary that people be matrimonially engaged to dance it. one engages his partner for it as for any other dance. it had been fashionable in europe many years before it came to this country, but has been danced here for over forty years, first coming out at washington. chapter xvi. fashionable dancing. the return to quadrilles at some of the latest balls at delmonico's in the winter of was an important epoch in the history of dancing, reiterating the well-known proverb of the dressmakers that everything comes round in fifty years. fashion seems to be perennial in this way, for it is almost fifty years--certainly forty--since the quadrille was at the height of fashion. in germany, where they dance for dancing's sake, the quadrille was long ago voted _rococo_ and stiff. in england and at court balls it served always as a way, a dignified manner, for sovereigns and people of inconveniently high rank to begin a ball, to open a festivity, and it had a sporadic existence in the country and at washington even during the years when the lancers, a much livelier dance, had chased it away from the new york balls for a long period of time. the quadrille is a stately and a conversational dance. the figures are accurate, and every one should know them well enough to respond to the voice of the leader. but inasmuch as the figures are always calling one away from his partner, the first law is to have a large supply of small-talk, so that, on rejoining, a remark and a smile may make up for lost time. a calm, graceful carriage, the power to make an elegant courtesy, are necessary to a lady. no one in these days takes steps; a sort of galop is, however, allowed in the rapid figures of the quadrille. a defiant manner, sometimes assumed by a bashful man, is out of place, although there are certain figures which make a man feel rather defiant. one of these is where he is obliged, as _cavalier seul_, to advance to three ladies, who frequently laugh at him. then a man should equally avoid a boisterous demeanor in a quadrille; not swinging the lady round too gayly. it is never a romping dance, like the virginia reel, for instance. all people are apt to walk through a quadrille slowly, to music, until they come to the "ladies' chain" or the "promenade." it is, however, permissible to add a little swinging-step and a graceful dancing-movement to this stately promenade. a quadrille cannot go on evenly if any confusion arises from the ignorance, obstinacy, or inattention of one of the dancers. it is proper, therefore, if ignorant of the figures, to consult a dancing-master and to learn them. it is a most valuable dance, as all ages, sizes, and conditions of men and women can join in it. the young, old, stout, thin, lazy, active, maimed, or single, _without loss of caste_, can dance a quadrille. no one looks ridiculous dancing a quadrille. it is decidedly easier than the german, makes a break in a _t�te- -t�te_ conversation, and enables a gentleman to be polite to a lady who may not be a good dancer for waltz or polka. the morality of round dances seems now to be little questioned. at any rate, young girls in the presence of their mothers are not supposed to come to harm from their enjoyment. dancing is one of the oldest, the most historical, forms of amusement. even socrates learned to dance. there is no longer an excommunication on the waltz, that dance which byron abused. in england the _valse deux temps_ is still the most fashionable, as it always will be the most beautiful, of dances. some of the critics of all countries have said that only germans, russians, and americans can dance it. the germans dance it very quickly, with a great deal of motion, but render it elegant by slacking the pace every now and then. the russians waltz so quietly, on the contrary, that they can go round the room holding a brimming glass of champagne without spilling a drop. this evenness in waltzing is very graceful, and can only be reached by long practice, a good ear for music, and a natural gracefulness. young americans, who, as a rule, are the best dancers in the world, achieve this step to admiration. it is the gentleman's duty in any round dance to guide his fair companion gracefully; he must not risk a collision or the chance of a fall. a lady should never waltz if she feels dizzy. it is a sign of disease of the heart, and has brought on death. neither should she step flat-footed, and make her partner carry her round; but must do her part of the work, and dance lightly and well, or not at all. then, again, neither should her partner waltz on the tip of his toes, nor lift his partner too much off the floor; all should be smooth, graceful, delicate. the american dance of the season is, however, the polka--not the old-fashioned "heel and toe," but the step, quick and gay, of the sclavonic nationalities. it may be danced slowly or quickly. it is always, however, a spirited step, and the music is undoubtedly pretty. the dancing-masters describe the step of a polka as being a "hop, three glides, and a rest," and the music is two-four time. in order to apply the step to the music one must make it in four-eight time, counting four to each measure of the music, each measure taking about a second of time by the watch. the polka redowa and the polka mazourka are modifications of this step to different times. the galop is another fashionable dance this winter. it is very easy, and is danced to very quick music; it is inspiriting at the end of a ball. the _minuet de la cour_ was first danced in the ancient province of poitou, france. in paris, in , louis xiv., who was passionately fond of it, danced it to perfection. in , marcel, the renowned dancing-master, introduced it into england. then it went out for many years, until queen victoria revived it at a _bal costum�_ at buckingham palace in . in new york it was revived and ardently practised for mrs. w. k. vanderbilt's splendid fancy ball in , and it was much admired. there seems no reason why the grace, the dignity, the continuous movement; the courtesy, the _pas grace_, the skilfully-managed train, the play with the fan, should not commend this elegant dance to even our republican dancers; but it has not been danced this winter. it is possibly too much trouble. a dancing-master worked all winter to teach it to the performers of the last season. to make a courtesy (or, as we are fond of saying, a _curtsy_) properly is a very difficult art, yet all who dance the quadrille must learn it. to courtesy to her partner the lady steps off with the right foot, carrying nearly all her weight upon it, at the same time raising the heel of the left foot, thus placing herself in the second position, facing her partner, counting _one_. she then glides the left foot backward and across till the toe of the left foot is directly behind the right heel, the feet about one half of the length of the foot apart. this glide commences on the ball of the left foot, and terminates with both feet flat upon the floor, and the transfer of the weight to the backward foot. the bending of the knees and the casting down of the eyes begin with the commencement of the glide with the left foot, and the genuflection is steadily continued until the left foot reaches the position required, counting _two_; then, without changing the weight from the backward foot, she gradually rises, at the same time raising the forward heel and lifting the eyes, until she recovers her full height, counting _three_; and finally transfers the weight to the forward foot, counting _four_. such is the elaborate and the graceful courtesy. it should be studied with a master. the "german" (the "cotillon," as the french call it) is, however, and probably long will be, the most fashionable dance in society. it ends every ball in new york, washington, boston, philadelphia, and newport; it is a part of the business of life, and demands consummate skill in its leadership. any number may join in it; it often reaches twice around a large ballroom. all the couples in it are regarded as introduced to each other. no lady can refuse to dance with any gentleman who is brought to her in the german. so long as she remains in the charmed circle she must dance with any one in it. therefore the german must only be introduced at select assemblies, not at a public ball. the leader opens the german by motioning to certain couples to make a _tour de valse_ round the room. many of our correspondents write to ask us what are the latest and the favorite figures in the german. this is a difficult question to answer, as the leader always has his own favorite figures. the german generally begins with _l'avant trois double_, which may be generally described thus: the leader, having performed the _tour de valse_ with his partner, leaves her, and brings forward two other ladies; his lady brings forward two other gentlemen; the two _trios_ place themselves opposite each other, then forward and back, and each gentleman with the lady in front of him performs a _tour de valse_. should the company be large, two or more couples may start together, each couple choosing other ladies and gentlemen in the same manner as the first couple. then comes _la chaise_ after the _tour de valse_. the leader places his partner in a chair in the centre of the room; he then brings forward two gentlemen and presents them to the lady, who chooses one of them, after which he seats the gentleman who is rejected, and brings to him two ladies; he also selects a partner, and the leader dances with the refused lady to her place. this figure may be danced by any number of couples. _les drapeaux_ is a favorite figure. five or six duplicate sets of small flags of national or fancy devices must be in readiness. the leader takes a flag of each pattern, and his partner takes the duplicate. they perform a _tour de valse_. the conductor then presents his flags to five or six ladies, and his partner presents the corresponding flags to as many gentlemen. the gentlemen then seek the ladies having the duplicates, and with them perform a _tour de valse_, waving the flags as they dance. repeated by all the couples. _les bouquets_ brings in the favors. a number of small bouquets and boutonnieres are placed upon a table or in a basket. the first couple perform a _tour de valse_; they then separate. the gentleman takes a bouquet, and the lady a boutonniere. they now select new partners, to whom they present the bouquet and boutonniere, the lady attaching the boutonniere to the gentleman's coat. they perform a _tour de valse_ with their new partners. repeated by all the couples. other favors are frequently substituted for bouquets and boutonnieres, such as rosettes, miniature flags, artificial butterflies, badges, sashes, bonbons, little bells (the latter being attached to small pieces of ribbon and pinned to the coat or dress), scarf-pins, bangles, fans, caps, imitation antique coins, breastpins, lace pins, lockets; and even gifts of great value, such as shawls, scarfs, vases, picture-frames, writing-desks, and chairs (represented, of course, by tickets) have been this winter introduced in the german. but the cheap, light, fantastic things are the best, and contribute more to the amusement of the company. some of the figures of the german border on the romp. one of these is called _la corde_. a rope is stretched by the leading couple across the room, and the gentlemen jump over it to reach their partners. much amusement is occasioned by the tripping of gentlemen who are thrown by the intentional raising of the rope. after all have reached their partners they perform a _tour de valse_, and regain their seats. this is a figure not to be commended. still less is the figure called _les masques_. the gentlemen put on masques resembling "bully bottom" and other grotesque faces and heads of animals. they raise these heads above a screen, the ladies choosing partners without knowing them; the gentlemen remain _en masque_ until the termination of the _tour de valse_. this figure was danced at delmonico's and at the brunswick last winter, and the mammas complained that the fun grew rather too fast and furious. _les rubans_ is a very pretty figure. six ribbons, each about a yard in length, and of various colors, are attached to one end of a stick about twenty-four inches in length, also a duplicate set of ribbons, attached to another stick, must be in readiness. the first couple perform a _tour de valse_, then separate; the gentleman takes one set of ribbons, and stops successively in front of the ladies whom he desires to select to take part in the figure; each of these ladies rises and takes hold of the loose end of the ribbon; the first lady takes the other set of ribbons, bringing forward the six gentlemen in the same manner. the first couple conduct the ladies and gentlemen towards each other, and each gentleman dances with the lady holding the ribbon duplicate of his own; the first gentleman dances with his partner. we might go on indefinitely with these figures, but have no more space. the position of a dancer should be learned with the aid of a teacher. the upper part of the body should be quiet; the head held in a natural position, neither turned to one side nor the other; the eyes neither cast down nor up. the gentleman should put his arm firmly around a lady's waist, not holding her too close, but firmly holding her right hand with his left one; the lady turns the palm of her right hand downward; her right arm should be nearly straight, but not stiff. the gentleman's left arm should be slightly bent, his elbow inclined slightly backward. it is very inelegant, however--indeed, vulgar--to place the joined hands against the gentleman's side or hip; they should be kept clear of the body. the step should be in unison; if the gentleman bends his right elbow too much, he draws the lady's left shoulder against his right, thereby drawing the lady too close. the gentleman's right shoulder and the lady's left should be as far apart as the other shoulders. if a gentleman does not hold his partner properly, thereby causing her either to struggle to be free or else to dance wildly for want of proper support, if he permits himself and partner to collide with other couples, he cannot be considered a good dancer. chapter xvii. letters and letter-writing. the person who can write a graceful note is always spoken of with phrases of commendation. the epistolary art is said to be especially feminine, and the novelists and essayists are full of compliments to the sex, which is alternately praised and objurgated, as man feels well or ill. bulwer says: "a woman is the genius of epistolary communication. even men write better to a woman than to one of their own sex. no doubt they conjure up, while writing, the loving, listening face, the tender, pardoning heart, the ready tear of sympathy, and passionate confidences of heart and brain flow rapidly from the pen." but there is no such thing now as an "epistolary style." our immediate ancestors wrote better and longer letters than we do. they covered three pages of large letter-paper with crow-quill handwriting, folded the paper neatly, tucked one edge beneath the other (for there were no envelopes), and then sealed it with a wafer or with sealing-wax. to send one of these epistles was expensive--twenty-five cents from new york to boston. however, the electric telegraph and cheap postage and postal-cards may have been said, in a way, to have ruined correspondence in the old sense; lovers and fond mothers doubtless still write long letters, but the business of the letter-writer proper is at an end. the writing of notes has, however, correspondingly increased; and the last ten years have seen a profuse introduction of emblazoned crest and cipher, pictorial design, and elaborate monogram in the corners of ordinary note-paper. the old illuminated missal of the monks, the fancy of the japanese, the ever-ready taste of the french, all have been exhausted to satisfy that always hungry caprice which calls for something new. the frequency with which notes upon business and pleasure must fly across a city and a continent has done away, also, with the sealing-wax, whose definite, red, clear, oval was a fixture with our grandfathers, and which is still the only elegant, formal, and ceremonious way acknowledged in england, of sealing a letter. there were, however, serious objections to the use of wax in this country, which were discovered during the early voyages to california. the intense heat of the isthmus of panama melted the wax, and letters were irretrievably glued together, to the loss of the address and the confusion of the postmaster. so the glued envelope--common, cheap, and necessary--became the almost prevailing fashion for all notes as well as letters. the taste for colored note-paper with flowers in the corner was common among the belles of thirty years ago--the "rose-colored and scented _billet-doux_" is often referred to in the novels of that period. but colored note-paper fell into disuse long ago, and for the last few years we have not seen the heavy tints. a few pale greens, grays, blues, and lilacs have, indeed, found a place in fashionable stationery, and a deep coffee-colored, heavy paper had a little run about three years ago; but at the present moment no color that is appreciable is considered stylish, unless it be _�cru_, which is only a creamy white. a long truce is at last bidden to the fanciful, emblazoned, and colored monogram; the crest and cipher are laid on the shelf, and ladies have simply the address of their city residence, or the name of their country place, printed in one corner (generally in color), or, latest device of fashion, a fac-simile of their initials, carefully engraved, and dashed across the corner of the note-paper. the day of the week, also copied from their own handwriting, is often impressed upon the square cards now so much in use for short notes, or on the note-paper. there is one fashion which has never changed, and will never change, which is always in good taste, and which, perhaps, would be to-day the most perfect of all styles, and that is, good, plain, thick, english notepaper, folded square, put in a square envelope, and sealed with red sealing-wax which bears the imprint of the writer's coat of arms. no one can make any mistake who uses such stationery as this in any part of the world. on such paper and in such form are ambassadors' notes written; on such paper and in such style would the princess louise write her notes. however, there is no law against the monogram. many ladies still prefer it, and always use the paper which has become familiar to their friends. it is, however, a past rather than a present fashion. the plan of having all the note-paper marked with the address is an admirable one, for it effectually reminds the person who receives the note where the answer should be sent--information of which some ladies forget the importance, and which should always be written, if not printed, at the head of a letter. it also gives a stylish finish to the appearance of the note-paper, is simple, unpretending, and useful. the ink should invariably be black. from the very superior, lasting qualities of a certain purple fluid, which never became thick in the inkstand, certain ladies, a few years ago, used the purple and lilac inks very much. but they are not elegant; they are not in fashion; the best note-writers do not use them. the plain black ink, which gives the written characters great distinctness, is the only fashionable medium. every lady should study to acquire an elegant, free, and educated hand; there is nothing so useful, so sure to commend the writer everywhere, as such a chirography; while a cramped, poor, slovenly, uneducated, unformed handwriting is sure to produce the impression upon the reader that those qualities are more or less indicative of the writer's character. the angular english hand is at present the fashion, although less legible and not more beautiful than the round hand. we cannot enter into that great question as to whether or not handwriting is indicative of character; but we hold that a person's notes are generally characteristic, and that a neat, flowing, graceful hand, and a clean sheet, free from blots, are always agreeable to the eye. the writer of notes, also, must carefully discriminate between the familiar note and the note of ceremony, and should learn how to write both. custom demands that we begin all notes in the first person, with the formula of "my dear mrs. smith," and that we close with the expressions, "yours cordially," "yours with much regard," etc. the laws of etiquette do not permit us to use numerals, as , , , but demand that we write out _three, four, five_. no abbreviations are allowed in a note to a friend, as, "sd be glad to see you;" one must write out, "i should be glad to see you." the older letter-writers were punctilious about writing the first word of the page below the last line of the page preceding it. the date should follow the signing of the name. a great and very common mistake existing among careless letter-writers is the confusion of the first and third persons; as a child would write, "miss lucy clark will be happy to come to dinner, but i am going somewhere else." this is, of course, wildly ignorant and improper. a note in answer to an invitation should be written in the third person, if the invitation be in the third person. no abbreviations, no visible hurry, but an elaborate and finished ceremony should mark such epistles. for instance, an acceptance of a dinner invitation must be written in this form: _mr. and mrs. cadogan have great pleasure in accepting the polite invitation of mr. and mrs. sutherland for dinner on the seventeenth inst., at seven o'clock. lombard square. july sixth._ one lady in new york was known to answer a dinner invitation simply with the words, "come with pleasure." it is unnecessary to add that she was never invited again. it is impossible to give persons minute directions as to the style of a note, for that must be the outgrowth of years of careful education, training, and good mental powers. "to write a pretty note" is also somewhat of a gift. some young men and young girls find it very easy, others can scarcely acquire the power. it is, however, absolutely necessary to strive for it. in the first place, arrange your ideas, know what you want to say, and approach the business of writing a note with a certain thoughtfulness. if it is necessary to write it hastily, summon all your powers of mind, and try to make it brief, intelligible, and comprehensive. above all things, _spell correctly_. a word badly spelled stands out like a blot on a familiar or a ceremonious note. do not send a blurred, blotted, slovenly note to any one; it will remain to call up a certain prejudice against you in the mind of the recipient. the fashion is not now, as it once was, imperative that a margin be left around the edge of the paper. people now write all over the paper, and thus abolish a certain elegance which the old letters undoubtedly possessed. but postage is a consideration, and all we can ask of the youthful letter-writers is that they will not _cross_ their letters. plaid letters are the horror of all people who have not the eyes of a hawk. no letter or note should be written on ruled paper. to do so is both inelegant and unfashionable, and savors of the school-room. every young person should learn to write without lines. the square cards are much used, and are quite large enough for the transmission of all that a lady ordinarily wishes to say in giving or accepting an invitation. the day of the week and the address are often printed on the card. square envelopes have also driven the long ones from the table of the elegant note-writer, and the custom of closing all ceremonious notes with sealing-wax is still adhered to by the most fastidious. it would be absurd, however, to say that it is nearly as common as the more convenient habit of moistening the gummed envelope, but it is far more elegant, and every young person should learn how to seal a note properly. to get a good impression from an engraved stone seal, anoint it lightly with linseed-oil, to keep the wax from adhering; then dust it with rouge powder to take off the gloss, and press it quickly, but firmly, on the melted wax. dates and numerical designations, such as the number of a house, may be written in arabic figures, but quantities should be expressed in words. few abbreviations are respectful. a married lady should always be addressed with the prefix of her husband's christian name. in this country, where we have no titles, it is the custom to abbreviate everything except the title of "reverend," which we always give to the clergy. but it would be better if we made a practice of giving to each person his special title, and to all returned ambassadors, members of congress, and members of the legislature the title of "honorable." the roman catholic clergy and the bishops of the episcopal and methodist churches should be addressed by their proper titles, and a note should be, like a salutation, infused with respect. it honors the writer and the person to whom it is written, while a careless letter may injure both. chapter xviii. costly thy habit. we are often asked as to the appropriate dress to be worn at afternoon tea, at balls, at dinners, christenings, etc. neatness and simple elegance should always characterize a lady, and after that she may be as expensive as she pleases, if only at the right time. and we may say here that simplicity and plainness characterize many a rich woman in a high place; and one can always tell a real lady from an imitation one by her style of dress. vulgarity is readily seen even under a costly garment. there should be harmony and fitness, and suitability as to age and times and seasons. every one can avoid vulgarity and slovenliness; and in these days, when the fashions travel by telegraph, one can be _ la mode_. french women have a genius for dress. an old or a middle-aged woman understands how to make the best of herself in the assorting and harmonizing of colors; she never commits the mistake of making herself too youthful. in our country we often see an old woman bedizened like a _figurante_, imagining that she shall gain the graces of youth by borrowing its garments. all this aping of youthful dress "multiplies the wrinkles of old age, and makes its decay more conspicuous." for balls in this country, elderly women are not expected to go in low neck unless they wish to, so that the chaperon can wear a dress such as she would wear at a dinner--either a velvet or brocade, cut in pompadour shape, with a profusion of beautiful lace. all her ornaments should match in character, and she should be as unlike her charge as possible. the young girls look best in light gossamer material, in tulle, crepe, or tarlatan, in pale light colors or in white, while an elderly, stout woman never looks so badly as in low-necked light-colored silks or satins, young women look well in natural flowers; elderly women, in feathers and jewelled head-dresses. if elderly women with full figure wear low-necked dresses, a lace shawl or scarf, or something of that sort, should be thrown over the neck; and the same advice might be given to thin and scrawny figures. a lady writes to us as to what dress should be worn at her child's christening. we should advise a high-necked dark silk; it may be of as handsome material as she chooses, but it should be plain and neat in general effect. no woman should overdress in her own house; it is the worst taste. all dress should correspond to the spirit of the entertainment given. light-colored silks, sweeping trains, bonnets very gay and garnished with feathers, lace parasols, and light gloves, are fit for carriages at the races, but they are out of place for walking in the streets. they may do for a wedding reception, but they are not fit for a picnic or an excursion. lawn parties, flower shows, and promenade concerts, should all be dressed for in a gay, bright fashion; and the costumes for these and for yachting purposes may be as effective and coquettish as possible; but for church, for readings, for a morning concert, for a walk, or a morning call on foot, a tailor-made costume, with plain, dark hat, is the most to be admired. never wear a "dressy" bonnet in the street. the costumes for picnics, excursions, journeys; and the sea-side should be of a strong fabric, simple cut, and plain color. things which will wash are better for our climate. serge, tweed, and piqu� are the best. a morning dress for a late breakfast may be as luxurious as one pleases. the modern fashion of imitation lace put on in great quantities over a foulard or a gingham, a muslin or a cotton, made up prettily, is suitable for women of all ages; but an old "company dress" furbished up to do duty at a watering-place is terrible, and not to be endured. it has been the fashion this season to wear full-dress at weddings. the bride and her maids have appeared with low neck and short sleeves in the cold morning air at several fashionable churches. the groom at the same time wearing morning costume. it is an era of low necks. the pendulum of fashion is swinging that way. we have spoken of this before, so only record the fact that the low neck will prevail in many summer evening dresses as well as for morning weddings. the very tight fashion of draping skirts should make all women very careful as to the way they sit down. some frenchman said he could tell a gentleman by his walk; another has lately said that he can tell a lady by the way she sits down. a woman is allowed much less freedom of posture than a man. he may change his position as he likes, and loll or lounge, cross his legs, or even nurse his foot if he pleases; but a woman must have grace and dignity; in every gesture she must be "ladylike." any one who has seen a great actress like modjeska sit down will know what an acquired grace it is. a woman should remember that she "belongs to a sex which cannot afford to be grotesque." there should never be rowdiness or carelessness. the mania for extravagant dress on the stage, the _pieces des robes_, is said to be one of the greatest enemies of the legitimate drama. the leading lady must have a conspicuous display of elaborate gowns, the latest inventions of the modistes. in paris these stage costumes set the fashions, and bonnets and caps and gowns become individualized by their names. they look very well on the wearers, but they look very badly on some elderly, plain, middle-aged, stout woman who has adopted them. plain satins and velvet, rich and dark brocades, made by an artist, make any one look well. the elderly woman should be able to move without effort or strain of any kind; a black silk well made is indispensable; and even "a celebrity of a by-gone day" may be made to look handsome by a judicious but not too brilliant toilette. the dress called "complimentary mourning," which is rather a contradiction in terms, is now made very elegant and dressy. black and white in all the changes, and black bugles and bead trimming, all the shades of lilac and of purple, are considered by the french as proper colors and trimmings in going out of black; while for full mourning the english still preserve the cap, weepers, and veil, the plain muslin collar and cuffs, the crape dress, large black silk cloak, crape bonnet and veil. heavy, ostentatious, and expensive habiliments are often worn in mourning, but they are not in the best taste. the plain-surfaced black silks are commendable. for afternoon tea in this country the hostess generally wears a handsome high-necked gown, often a combination of stamped or brocaded velvet, satin, and silk. she rarely wears what in england is called a "tea-gown," which is a semi-loose garment. for visiting at afternoon teas no change is made from the ordinary walking dress, unless the three or four ladies who help receive come in handsome reception dresses. a skirt of light brocade with a dark velvet over-dress is very much worn at these receptions, and if made by a french artist is a beautiful dress. these dark velvets are usually made high, with a very rich lace ruff. the high medicean collar and pretty medicean cap of velvet are in great favor with the middle-aged ladies of the present day, and are a very becoming style of dress for the opera. the present fashion of full dress at the opera, while it may not improve the music, certainly makes the house look very pretty and stately. too many dresses are a mistake, even for an opulent woman. they get out of fashion, and excepting for a girl going out to many balls they are entirely unnecessary. a girl who is dancing needs to be perpetually renewed, for she should be always fresh, and the "wear and tear" of the cotillion is enormous. there is nothing so poor as a dirty, faded, and patched-up ball-dress; the dancer had better stay at home than wear such. the fashion of sleeves should be considered. a stout woman looks very badly in a loose sleeve of hanging lace which only reaches the elbow. it makes the arm look twice as large. she should wear, for a thin sleeve, black lace to the wrist, with bands of velvet running down, to diminish the size of the arm. all those lace sleeves to the elbow, with drops of gold, or steel trimming, or jets, are very unbecoming; no one but the slight should wear them. tight lacing is also very unbecoming to those who usually adopt it--women of thirty-eight or forty who are growing a little stout. in thus trussing themselves up they simply get an unbecoming redness of the face, and are not the handsome, comfortable-looking creatures which heaven intended they should be. two or three beautiful women well known in society killed themselves last year by tight lacing. the effect of an inch less waist was not apparent enough to make this a wise sacrifice of health and ease of breathing. at a lady's lunch party, which is always an occasion for handsome dress, and where bonnets are always worn, the faces of those who are too tightly dressed always show the strain by a most unbecoming flush; and as american rooms are always too warm, the suffering must be enormous. it is a very foolish plan, also, to starve one's self, or "_bant_," for a graceful thinness; women only grow wrinkled, show crow's-feet under the eyes, and look less young than those who let themselves alone. a gorgeously dressed woman in the proper place is a fine sight. a well-dressed woman is she who understands herself and her surroundings. chapter xix. dressing for driving. no one who has seen the coaching parade in new york can have failed to observe the extraordinary change which has come over the fashion in dress for this conspicuous occasion. formerly ladies wore black silks, or some dark or low-toned color in woollen or cotton or silk; and a woman who should have worn a white dress on top of a coach would, ten years ago, have been thought to make herself undesirably conspicuous. now the brightest colored and richest silks, orange, blue, pink, and lilac dresses, trimmed with lace flounces, dinner dresses, in fact--all the charming confections of worth or piugat--are freely displayed on the coach-tops, with the utmost graciousness, for every passer-by to comment on. the lady on the top of a coach without a mantle appears very much as she would at a full-dress ball or dinner. she then complains that sometimes ill-natured remarks float up from the gazers, and that the ladies are insulted. the fashion began at longchamps and at ascot, where, especially at the former place, a lady was privileged to sit in her victoria, with her lilac silk full ruffled to the waist, in the most perfect and aristocratic seclusion. then the fast set of the prince of wales took it up, and plunged into rivalry in dressing for the public procession through the london streets, where a lady became as prominent an object of observation as the lord mayor's coach. it has been taken up and developed in america until it has reached a climax of splendor and, if we may say so, inappropriateness, that is characteristic of the following of foreign fashions in this country. how can a white satin, trimmed with lace, or an orange silk, be the dress in which a lady should meet the sun, the rain, or the dust of a coaching expedition? is it the dress in which she feels that she ought to meet the gaze of a mixed assemblage in a crowded hotel or in a much frequented thoroughfare? what change of dress can there be left for the drawing-room? we are glad to see that the princess of wales, whose taste seems to be as nearly perfect as may be, has determined to set her pretty face against this exaggerated use of color. she appeared recently in london, on top of a coach, in a suit of navy-blue flannel. again, she and the empress of austria are described as wearing dark, neat suits of _drap d'�t�_, and also broadcloth dresses. one can see the delicate figures and refined features of these two royal beauties in this neat and inconspicuous dress, and, when they are contrasted with the flaunting pink and white and lace and orange dresses of those who are not royal, how vulgar the extravagance in color becomes! our grandmothers travelled in broadcloth riding-habits, and we often pity them for the heat and the distress which they must have endured in the heavy, high-fitting, long-sleeved garments; yet we cannot but think they would have looked better on top of a coach than their granddaughters--who should remember, when they complain of the rude remarks, that we have no aristocracy here whose feelings the mob is obliged to respect, and that the plainer their dress the less apt they will be to hear unpleasant epithets applied to them. in the present somewhat aggressive amazonian fashion, when a woman drives a man in her pony phaeton (he sitting several inches below her), there is no doubt much audacity unintentionally suggested by a gay dress. a vulgar man, seeing a lady in white velvet, spanish lace, a large hat--in what he considers a "loud" dress--does not have the idea of modesty or of refinement conveyed to his mind by the sight; he is very apt to laugh, and to say something not wholly respectful. then the lady says, "with how little respect women are treated in large cities, or at newport, or at saratoga!" were she more plainly dressed, in a dark foulard or an inconspicuous flannel or cloth dress, with her hat simply arranged, she would be quite as pretty and better fitted for the matter she has in hand, and very much less exposed to invidious comment. women dress plainly enough when tempting the "salt-sea wave," and also when on horseback. nothing could be simpler than the riding-habit, and yet is there any dress so becoming? but on the coach they should not be too fine. of course, women can dress as they please, but if they please to dress conspicuously they must be ready to take the consequences. a few years ago no lady would venture into the street unless a mantle or a scarf covered her shoulders. it was a lady-like precaution. then came the inglorious days of the "tied-backs," a style of dress most unbecoming to the figure, and now happily no more. this preposterous fashion had, no doubt, its influence on the manners of the age. better far, if women would parade their charms, the courtly dresses of those beauties of bird-cage walk, by st. james's park, where "lady betty modish" was born--full, long, _bouffant_ brocades, hair piled high, long and graceful scarfs, and gloves reaching to the elbow. even the rouge and powder were a mask to hide the cheek which did or did not blush when bold eyes were fastened upon it. let us not be understood, however, as extolling these. the nineteenth-century beauty mounts a coach with none of these aids to shyness. no suggestion of hiding any of her charms occurs to her. she goes out on the box seat without cloak or shawl, or anything but a hat on the back of her head and a gay parasol between her and a possible thunder-storm. these ladies are not members of an acclimatization society. they cannot bring about a new climate. do they not suffer from cold? do not the breezes go through them? answer, all ye pneumonias and diphtherias and rheumatisms! there is no delicacy in the humor with which the funny papers and the caricaturists treat these very exaggerated costumes. no delicacy is required. a change to a quieter style of dress would soon abate this treatment of which so many ladies complain. let them dress like the princess of wales and the empress of austria, when in the conspicuous high-relief of the coach, and the result will be that ladies, married or single, will not be subjected to the insults of which so many of them complain, and of which the papers are full after every coaching parade. lady riders are seldom obliged to complain of the incivility of a passer-by. theirs are modest figures, and, as a general thing nowadays, they ride well. a lady can alight from her horse and walk about in a crowded place without hearing an offensive word: she is properly dressed for her exercise. nor, again, is a young lady in a lawn-tennis suit assailed by the impertinent criticisms of a mixed crowd of by-standers. thousands play at newport, saratoga, and other places of resort, with thousands looking on, and no one utters a word of rebuke. the short flannel skirt and close jersey are needed for the active runner, and her somewhat eccentric appearance is condoned. it is not considered an exhibition or a show, but a good, healthy game of physical exercise. people feel an interest and a pleasure in it. it is like the old-fashioned merry-making of the may-pole, the friendly jousts of neighbors on the common play-ground of the neighborhood, with the dances under the walnut-trees of sunny provence. the game is an invigorating one, and even those who do not know it are pleased with its animation. we have hitherto neglected that gymnastic culture which made the greeks the graceful people they were, and which contributed to the cultivation of the mind. nobody finds anything to laugh at in either of these costumes; but when people see a ball-dress mounted high on a coach they are very apt to laugh at it; and women seldom come home from a coaching parade without a tingling cheek and a feeling of shame because of some comment upon their dress and appearance. a young lady drove up, last summer, to the ocean house at newport in a pony phaeton, and was offended because a gentleman on the piazza said, "that girl has a very small waist, and she means us to see it." who was to blame? the young lady was dressed in a very conspicuous manner: she had neither mantle nor jacket about her, and she probably did mean that her waist should be seen. there is a growing objection all over the world to the hour-glass shape once so fashionable, and we ought to welcome it as the best evidence of a tendency towards a more sensible form of dress, as well as one more conducive to health and the wholesome discharge of a woman's natural and most important functions. but if a woman laces herself into a sixteen-inch belt, and then clothes herself in brocade, satin, and bright colors, and makes herself conspicuous, she should not object to the fact that men, seeing her throw aside her mantle, comment upon her charms in no measured terms. she has no one to blame but herself. we might add that by this over-dressing women deprive themselves of the advantage of contrast in style. lace, in particular, is for the house and for the full-dress dinner or ball. so are the light, gay silks, which have no fitness of fold or of texture for the climbing of a coach. if bright colors are desired, let ladies choose the merinos and nuns' veilings for coaching dresses; or, better still, let them dress in dark colors, in plain and inconspicuous dresses, which do not seem to defy both dust and sun and rain as well. on top of a coach they are far more exposed to the elements than when on the deck of a yacht. nor, because the fast set of the prince of wales do so in london, is there any reason why american women should appear on top of a coach dressed in red velvet and white satin. let them remember the fact that the queen had placed windsor castle at the disposal of the prince for his use during ascot week, but that when she learned that two somewhat conspicuous american beauties were expected, she rescinded the loan and told the prince to entertain his guests elsewhere. chapter xx. incongruities of dress. we are all aware of the value of a costume, such as the dress of the pompadour era: the swiss peasant's bodice, the normandy cap, the _faldetta_ of the maltese, the hungarian national dress, the early english, the puritan square-cut, the spanish mantilla, the roman scarf and white cap--all these come before us; and as we mention each characteristic garment there steps out on the canvas of memory a neat little figure, in which every detail from shoe to head-dress is harmonious. no one in his wildest dreams, however, could set out with the picture of a marquise, and top it off with a normandy cap. nor could he put powder on the dark hair of the jaunty little hungarian. the beauty of these costumes is seen in each as a whole, and not in the parts separately. the marquise must wear pink or blue, or some light color; she must have the long waist, the square-cut corsage, the large hoop, the neat slipper, with rosette and high heel, the rouge and patches to supplement her powdered hair, or she is no marquise. the swiss peasant must have the short skirt, the white chemisette, the black velvet bodice, the cross and ribbon, the coarse shoes, and the head-dress of her canton; the normandy peasant her dark, striking dress, her high-heeled, gold-buckled shoe, and her white apron; the hungarian her neat, military scarlet jacket, braided with gold, her scant petticoat and military boot, her high cap and feather. the dress of the english peasant, known now as the "mother hubbard" hat and cloak, very familiar to the students of costumes as belonging to the countrywomen of shakspeare's time, demands the short, bunched-up petticoat and high-heeled, high-cut shoes to make it perfect. we live in an age, however, when fashion, irrespective of artistic principle, mixes up all these costumes, and borrows a hat here and a shoe there, the effect of each garment, diverted from its original intention, being lost. if "all things by their season seasoned are," so is all dress (or it should be) seasonable and comprehensive, congruous and complete. the one great secret of the success of the french as artists and magicians of female costume is that they consider the _entire figure_ and its demands, the conditions of life and of luxury, the propriety of the substance, and the needs of the wearer. a lady who is to tread a velvet carpet or a parqueted floor does not need a wooden shoe; she needs a satin slipper or boot. yet in the modern drawing-room we sometimes see a young lady dancing in a heavy balmoral boot which is only fitted for the bogs and heather of a scotch tramp. the presence of a short dress in a drawing-room, or of a long train in the street, is part of the general incongruity of dress. the use of the ulster and the derby hat became apparent on english yachts, where women learned to put themselves in the attitude of men, and very properly adopted the storm jib; but, if one of those women had been told that she would, sooner or later, appear in this dress in the streets of london, she would have been shocked. in the days of the french emigration, when highborn ladies escaped on board friendly vessels in the harbor of honfleur, many of them had on the long-waisted and full-skirted overcoats of their husbands, who preferred to shiver rather than endure the pain of seeing their wives suffer from cold. these figures were observed by london tailors and dress-makers, and out of them grew the english pelisse which afterwards came into fashion. on a stout englishwoman the effect was singularly absurd, and many of the early caricatures give us the benefit of this incongruity; for although a small figure looks well in a pelisse, a stout one never does. the englishwoman who weighs two or three hundred pounds should wear a sacque, a shawl, or a loose cloak, instead of a tight-waisted pelisse. however, we are diverging. the sense of the _personally becoming_ is still another branch of the great subject of dress. a velvet dress, for instance, demands for its trimmings expensive and real lace. it should not be supplemented by breton or imitation valenciennes. all the very pretty imitation laces are appropriate for cheap silks, poplins, summer fabrics, or dresses of light and airy material; but if the substance of the dress be of the richest, the lace should be in keeping with it. so, also, in respect to jewellery: no cheap or imitation jewellery should be worn with an expensive dress. it is as foreign to good taste as it would be for a man to dress his head and body in the most fashionable of hats and coats, and his legs in white duck. there is incongruity in the idea. the same incongruity applies to a taste for which our countrymen have often been blamed--a desire for the magnificent, a woman who puts on diamonds, real lace, and velvets in the morning at a summer watering-place is decidedly incongruous. far better be dressed in a gingham, with hamburg embroidery, and a straw hat with a handkerchief tied round it, now so pretty and so fashionable. she is then ready for the ocean or for the mountain drive, the scramble or the sail. her boots should be strong, her gloves long and stout. she thus adapts her attire to the occasion. in the evening she will have an opportunity for the delicate boot and the trailing gauze or silk, or that deft combination of all the materials known as a "worth costume." in buying a hat a woman should stand before a long psyche glass, and see herself from head to foot. often a very pretty bonnet or hat which becomes the face is absolutely dreadful in that wavy outline which is perceptible to those who consider the effect as a whole. all can remember how absurd a large figure looked in the round poke hat and the delicate fanchon bonnet, and the same result is brought about by the round hat. a large figure should be topped by a gainsborough or rubens hat, with nodding plumes. then the effect is excellent and the proportions are preserved. nothing can be more incongruous, again, than a long, slim, aesthetic figure with a head-gear so disproportionately large as to suggest a sandwich-islander with his head-dress of mats. the "aesthetic craze" has, however, brought in one improvement in costume. it is the epauletted sleeve, which gives expansion to so many figures which are, unfortunately, too narrow. all physiologists are speculating on the growing narrowness of chest in the anglo-saxon race. it is singularly apparent in america. to remedy this, some ingenious dress-maker devised a little puff at the top of the arm, which is most becoming. it is also well adapted to the "cloth of gold" costume of the days of francis i., which modern luxury so much affects. it is a frond sort of costume, this nineteenth-century dress, and can well borrow some of the festive features of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, if they be not incongruous. we, like those rich nobles and prosperous burghers, have lighted on piping times of peace; we have found a new india of our own; our galleons come laden with the spoils of all countries; we are rich, and we are able to wear velvet and brocade. but we should be as true as they to the proprieties of dress. in the ancient burgher days the richest citizen was not permitted to wear velvet; he had his own picturesque collar, his dark-cloth suit, his becoming hat. he had no idea of aping the cian, with his long hat and feather. we are all patricians; we can wear either the sober suit or the gay one; but do let us avoid incongruity. a woman, in dressing herself for an evening of festivity, should remember that, from her ear-rings to her fan, all must suggest and convey the idea of luxury. a wooden fan is very pretty in the morning at a watering-place, but it will not do in the evening. none of the modern _ch�telaine_ arrangements, however ornamental, are appropriate for evening use. the _ch�telaine_ meant originally the chain on which the lady of the house wore her keys; therefore its early association of usefulness remains: it is not luxurious in intention, however much modern fashion may have adorned it. many a fashion has, it is true, risen from a low estate. the order of the garter tells of a monarch's caprice; the shoe-buckle and the horseshoe have crept up into the highest rank of ornaments. but as it takes three generations to make a gentleman, so does it take several decades to give nobility to low-born ornament. we must not try to force things. a part of the growing and sad incongruity of modern dress appears in the unavoidable awkwardness of a large number of bouquets. a belle cannot leave the insignia of belledom at home, nor can she be so unkind as to carry mr. smith's flowers and ignore mr. brown's; so she appears with her arms and hands full, to the infinite detriment of her dress and general effect. some arrangement might be devised whereby such trophies could be dragged in the train of the high-priestess of fashion. a little reading, a little attention to the study of costume (a beautiful study, by-the-way), would soon teach a young woman to avoid the incongruous in dress. some people have taste as a natural gift: they know how to dress from a consultation with their inner selves. others, alas! are entirely without it. the people who make hats and coats and dresses for us are generally without any comprehension of the history of dress. to them the hat of the roundhead and that of the cavalier have the same meaning. to all people of taste and reading, however, they are very different, and all artists know that the costumes which retain their hold on the world have been preferred and have endured because of their fitness to conditions of climate and the grace and ease with which they were worn. chapter xxi. etiquette of mourning. there is no possibility of touching upon the subject of death and burial, and the conditions under which funerals should be conducted, without hurting some one's feelings. the duke of sutherland's attempt in england to do away with the dreadful shape which causes a shudder to all who have lost a friend--that of the coffin--was called irreverent, because he suggested that the dead should be buried in wicker-work baskets, with fern-leaves for shrouds, so that the poor clay might the more easily return to mother earth. those who favor cremation suffer again a still more frantic disesteem; and yet every one deplores the present gloomy apparatus and dismal observances of our occasions of mourning. death is still to the most christian and resigned heart a very terrible fact, a shock to all who live, and its surroundings, do what we will, are painful. "i smell the mould above the rose," says hood, in his pathetic lines on his daughter's death. therefore, we have a difficulty to contend with in the wearing of black, which is of itself, to begin with, negatory of our professed belief in the resurrection. we confess the logic of despair when we drape ourselves in its gloomy folds. the dress which we should wear, one would think, might be blue, the color of the sky, or white, in token of light which the redeemed soul has reached. custom, which makes slaves of us all, has decreed that we shall wear black, as a mark of respect to those we have lost, and as a shroud for ourselves, protesting against the gentle ministration of light and cheerfulness with which our lord ever strives to reach us. this is one side of the question; but, again, one word as to its good offices. a mourning dress does protect a woman while in deepest grief against the untimely gayety of a passing stranger. it is a wall, a cell of refuge. behind a black veil she can hide herself as she goes out for business or recreation, fearless of any intrusion. the black veil, on the other hand, is most unhealthy: it harms the eyes and it injures the skin. as it rubs against the nose and forehead it is almost certain to cause abrasions, and often makes an annoying sore. to the eyes enfeebled by weeping it is sure to be dangerous, and most oculists now forbid it. the english, from whom we borrow our fashion in funeral matters, have a limitation provided by social law which is a useful thing. they now decree that crape shall only be worn six months, even for the nearest relative, and that the duration of mourning shall not exceed a year. a wife's mourning for her husband is the most conventionally deep mourning allowed, and every one who has seen an english widow will agree that she makes a "hearse" of herself. bombazine and crape, a widow's cap; and a long; thick veil--such is the modern english idea. some widows even have the cap made of black _cr�pe lisse_, but it is generally of white. in this country a widow's first mourning dresses are covered almost entirely with crape, a most costly and disagreeable material, easily ruined by the dampness and dust--a sort of penitential and self-mortifying dress, and very ugly and very expensive. there are now, however, other and more agreeable fabrics which also bear the dead black, lustreless look which is alone considered respectful to the dead, and which are not so costly as crape, or so disagreeable to wear. the henrietta cloth and imperial serges are chosen for heavy winter dresses, while for those of less weight are tamise cloth, bayonnaise, grenadine, nuns' veiling, and the american silk. our mourning usages are not overloaded with what may be called the pomp, pride, and circumstance of woe which characterize english funerals. indeed, so overdone are mourning ceremonies in england--what with the hired mutes, the nodding plumes, the costly coffin, and the gifts of gloves and bands and rings, etc.--that lady georgiana milnor, of nunappleton, in york, a great friend of the archbishop, wrote a book against the abuse, ordered her own body to be buried in a pine coffin, and forbade her servants and relatives to wear mourning. her wishes were carried out to the letter. a black, cloth-covered casket with silver mountings is considered in the best taste, and the pall-bearers are given at most a white scarf and a pair of black gloves. even this is not always done. at one time the traffic in these returned bands and gloves was quite a fortune to the undertaker. mourning is very expensive, and often costs a family more than they can well afford; but it is a sacrifice that even the poorest gladly make, and those who can least afford it often wear the best mourning, so tyrannical is custom. they consider it--by what process of reasoning no one can understand, unless it be out of a hereditary belief that we hold in the heathen idea of propitiating the manes of the departed--an act of disrespect to the memory of the dead if the living are not clad in gloomy black. however, our business is with the etiquette of mourning. widows wear deep mourning, consisting of woollen stuffs and crape, for about two years, and sometimes for life, in america. children wear the same for parents for one year, and then lighten it with black silk, trimmed with crape. half-mourning gradations of gray, purple, or lilac have been abandoned, and, instead, combinations of black and white are used. complimentary mourning is black silk without crape. the french have three grades of mourning--deep, ordinary, and half mourning. in deep mourning, woollen cloths only are worn; in ordinary mourning, silk and woollen; in half mourning, gray and violet. an american lady is always shocked at the gayety and cheerfulness of french mourning. in france, etiquette prescribes mourning for a husband for one year and six weeks--that is, six months of deep mourning, six of ordinary, and six weeks of half mourning. for a wife, a father, or a mother, six months--three deep and three half mourning; for a grandparent, two months and a half of slight mourning; for a brother or a sister, two months, one of which is in deep mourning; for an uncle or an aunt, three weeks of ordinary black. in america, with no fixity of rule, ladies have been known to go into deepest mourning for their own relatives or those of their husbands, or for people, perhaps, whom they have never seen, and have remained as gloomy monuments of bereavement for seven or ten years, constantly in black; then, on losing a child or a relative dearly loved, they have no extremity of dress left to express the real grief which fills their lives--no deeper black to go into. this complimentary mourning should be, as in the french custom, limited to two or three weeks. the health of a delicate child has been known to be seriously affected by the constant spectacle of his mother in deep mourning. the period of a mourner's retirement from the world has been very much shortened of late. for one year no formal visiting is undertaken, nor is there any gayety in the house. black is often worn for a husband or wife two years, for parents one year, and for brothers and sisters one year; a heavy black is lightened after that period. ladies are beginning to wear a small black gauze veil over the face, and are in the habit of throwing the heavy crape veil back over the hat. it is also proper to wear a quiet black dress when going to a funeral, although this is not absolutely necessary. friends should call on the bereaved family within a month, not expecting, of course, to see them. kind notes expressing sympathy are most welcome to the afflicted from intimate friends, and gifts of flowers, or any testimonial of sympathy, are thoughtful and appropriate. cards and note-paper are now put into mourning by those who desire to express conventionally their regret for the dead; but very broad borders of black look like ostentation, and are in undoubted bad taste. no doubt all these things are proper enough in their way, but a narrow border of black tells the story of loss as well as an inch of coal-black gloom. the fashion of wearing handkerchiefs which are made with a two-inch square of white cambric and a four-inch border of black may well be deprecated. a gay young widow at washington was once seen dancing at a reception, a few months after the death of her soldier husband, with a long black veil on, and holding in her black-gloved hand one of these handkerchiefs, which looked as if it had been dipped in ink. "she should have dipped it in blood," said a by-stander. under such circumstances we learn how much significance is to be attached to the grief expressed by a mourning veil. the mourning which soldiers, sailors, and courtiers wear has something pathetic and effective about it. a flag draped with crape, a gray cadet-sleeve with a black band, or a long piece of crape about the left arm of a senator, a black weed on a hat, these always touch us. they would even appear to suggest that the lighter the black, the more fully the feeling of the heart is expressed. if we love our dead, there is no danger that we shall forget them. "the customary suit of solemn black" is not needed when we can wear it in our hearts. for lighter mourning jet is used on silk, and there is no doubt that it makes a very handsome dress. it is a singular fact that there is a certain comfort to some people in wearing very handsome black. worth, on being asked to dress an american widow whom he had never seen, sent for her photograph, for he said that he wished to see "whether she was the sort of woman who would relish a becoming black." very elegant dresses are made with jet embroidery on crape--the beautiful soft french crape--but lace is never "mourning." even the french, who have very light ideas on the subject, do not trim the most ornamental dresses with lace during the period of even second mourning, except when they put the woolen yak lace on a cloth cloak or mantilla. during a very dressy half mourning, however, black lace may be worn on white silk; but this is questionable. diamond ornaments set in black enamel are allowed even in the deepest mourning, and also pearls set in black. the initials of the deceased, in black brilliants or pearls, are now set in lockets and sleeve-buttons, or pins. gold ornaments are never worn in mourning. white silk, embroidered with black jet, is used in the second stage of court mourning, with black gloves. deep red is deemed in england a proper alternative for mourning black, if the wearer be called upon to go to a wedding during the period of the first year's mourning. at st. george's, hanover square, therefore, one may often see a widow assisting at the wedding of a daughter or a son, and dressed in a superb red brocade or velvet, which, directly the wedding is over, she will discard for her solemn black. the question of black gloves is one which troubles all who are obliged to wear mourning through the heat of summer. the black kid glove is painfully warm and smutty, disfiguring the hand and soiling the handkerchief and face. the swedish kid glove is now much more in vogue, and the silk glove is made with such neatness and with such a number of buttons that it is equally stylish, and much cooler and more agreeable. mourning bonnets are worn rather larger than ordinary bonnets. in england they are still made of the old-fashioned cottage shape, and are very useful in carrying the heavy veil and in shading the face. the queen has always worn this style of bonnet. her widow's cap has never been laid aside, and with her long veil of white falling down her back when she appears at court, it makes the most becoming dress that she has ever worn. for such a grief as hers there is something appropriate and dignified in her adherence to the mourning-dress. it fully expresses her sad isolation: for a queen can have no near friends. the whole english nation has sympathized with her grief, and commended her black dress. nor can we criticise the grief which causes a mother to wear mourning for her children. if it be any comfort to her to wrap herself in crape, she ought to do so. the world has no right to quarrel with those who prefer to put ashes on their heads. but for the mockery, the conventional absurdities, and the affectations which so readily lend themselves to caricature in the name of mourning, no condemnation can be too strong. there is a ghoul-like ghastliness in talking about "ornamental," or "becoming," or "complimentary" mourning. people of sense, of course, manage to dress without going to extremities in either direction. we see many a pale-faced mourner whose quiet mourning-dress tells the story of bereavement without giving us the painful feeling that crape is too thick, or bombazine too heavy, for comfort. exaggeration is to be deprecated in mourning as in everything. the discarding of mourning should be effected by gradations. it shocks persons of good taste to see a light-hearted young widow jump into colors, as if she had been counting the hours. if black is to be dispensed with, let its retirement be slowly and gracefully marked by quiet costumes, as the feeling of grief, yielding to the kindly influence of time, is shaded off into resignation and cheerfulness. we do not forget our dead, but we mourn for them with a feeling which no longer partakes of anguish. before a funeral the ladies of a family see no one but the most intimate friends. the gentlemen, of course, must see the clergyman and officials who manage the ceremony. it is now the almost universal practice to carry the remains to a church, where the friends of the family can pay the last tribute of respect without crowding into a private house. pallbearers are invited by note, and assemble at the house of the deceased, accompanying the remains, after the ceremonies at the church, to their final resting-place. the nearest lady friends seldom go to the church or to the grave. this is, however, entirely a matter of feeling, and they can go if they wish. after the funeral only the members of the family return to the house, and it is not expected that a bereaved wife or mother will see any one other than the members of her family for several weeks. the preparations for a funeral in the house are committed to the care of an undertaker, who removes the furniture from the drawing-room, filling all the space possible with camp-stools. the clergyman reads the service at the head of the coffin, the relatives being grouped around. the body, if not disfigured by disease, is often dressed in the clothes worn in life, and laid in an open casket, as if reposing on a sofa, and all friends are asked to take a last look. it is, however, a somewhat ghastly proceeding to try to make the dead look like the living. the body of a man is usually dressed in black. a young boy is laid out in his every-day clothes, but surely the young of both sexes look more fitly clad in the white cashmere robe. the custom of decorating the coffin with flowers is a beautiful one, but has been, in large cities, so overdone, and so purely a matter of money, that now the request is generally made that no flowers be sent. in england a lady of the court wears, for her parent, crape and bombazine (or its equivalent in any lustreless cloth) for three months. she goes nowhere during that period. after that she wears lustreless silks, trimmed with crape and jet, and goes to court if commanded. she can also go to concerts without violating etiquette, or to family weddings. after six months she again reduces her mourning to black and white, and can attend the "drawing-room" or go to small dinners. for a husband the time is exactly doubled, but in neither case should the widow be seen at a ball, a theatre, or an opera until after one year has elapsed. in this country no person in mourning for a parent, a child, a brother, or a husband, is expected to be seen at a concert, a dinner, a party, or at any other place of public amusement, before three months have passed, after that one may be seen at a concert. but to go to the opera, or a dinner, or a party, before six months have elapsed, is considered heartless and disrespectful. indeed, a deep mourning-dress at such a place is an unpleasant anomaly. if one choose, as many do, not to wear mourning, then they can go unchallenged to any place of amusement, for they have asserted their right to be independent; but if they put on mourning they must respect its etiquette, by many who sorrow deeply, and who regard the crape and solemn dress as a mark of respect to the dead, it is deemed almost a sin for a woman to go into the street, to drive, or to walk, for two years, without a deep crape veil over her face. it is a common remark of the censorious that a person who lightens her mourning before that time "did not care much for the deceased;" and many people hold the fact that a widow or an orphan wears her crape for two years to be greatly to her credit. of course, no one can say that a woman should not wear mourning all her life if she choose, but it is a serious question whether in so doing she does not injure the welfare and happiness of the living. children, as we have said, are often strangely affected by this shrouding of their mothers, and men always dislike it. common-sense and common decency, however, should restrain the frivolous from engaging much in the amusements and gayeties of life before six months have passed after the death of any near friend. if they pretend to wear black at all, they cannot be too scrupulous in respecting the restraint which it imposes. chapter xxii. mourning and funeral usages. nothing in our country is more undecided in the public mind than the etiquette of mourning. it has not yet received that hereditary and positive character which makes the slightest departure from received custom so reprehensible in england. we have not the mutes, or the nodding feathers of the hearse, that still form part of the english funeral equipage; nor is the rank of the poor clay which travels to its last home illustrated by the pomp and ceremony of its departure. still, in answer to some pertinent questions, we will offer a few desultory remarks, beginning with the end, as it were--the return of the mourner to the world. when persons who have been in mourning wish to re-enter society, they should leave cards on all their friends and acquaintances, as an intimation that they are equal to the paying and receiving of calls. until this intimation is given, society will not venture to intrude upon the mourner's privacy. in eases where cards of inquiry have been left, with the words "to inquire" written on the top of the card, these cards should be replied to by cards with "thanks for kind inquiries" written upon them; but if cards for inquiry had not been left, this form can be omitted. of course there is a kind of complimentary mourning which does not necessitate seclusion--that which is worn out of respect to a husband's relative whom one may never have seen. but no one wearing a heavy crape veil should go to a gay reception, a wedding, or a theatre; the thing is incongruous. still less should mourning prevent one from taking proper recreation: the more the heart aches, the more should one try to gain cheerfulness and composure, to hear music, to see faces which one loves: this is a duty, not merely a wise and sensible rule. yet it is well to have some established customs as to visiting and dress in order that the gay and the heartless may in observing them avoid that which shocks every one--an appearance of lack of respect to the memory of the dead--that all society may move on in decency and order, which is the object and end of the study of etiquette. a heartless wife who, instead of being grieved at the death of her husband, is rejoiced at it, should be taught that society will not respect her unless she pays to the memory of the man whose name she bears that "homage which vice pays to virtue," a commendable respect to the usages of society in the matter of mourning and of retirement from the world. mourning garments have this use, that they are a shield to the real mourner, and they are often a curtain of respectability to the person who should be a mourner but is not. we shall therefore borrow from the best english and american authorities what we believe to be the most recent usages in the etiquette of mourning. as for periods of mourning, we are told that a widow's mourning should last eighteen months, although in england it is somewhat lightened in twelve. for the first six months the dress should be of crape cloth, or henrietta cloth covered entirely with crape, collar and cuffs of white crape, a crape bonnet with a long crape veil, and a widow's cap of white crape if preferred. in america, however, widows' caps are not as universally worn as in england. dull black kid gloves are worn in first mourning; after that _gants de suede_ or silk gloves are proper, particularly in summer. after six months' mourning the crape can be removed, and grenadine, copeau fringe, and dead trimmings used, if the smell of crape is offensive, as it is to some people. after twelve months the widow's cap is left off, and the heavy veil is exchanged for a lighter one, and the dress can be of silk grenadine, plain black gros-grain, or crape-trimmed cashmere with jet trimmings, and cr�pe lisse about the neck and sleeves. all kinds of black fur and seal-skin are worn in deep mourning. mourning for a father or mother should last one year. during half a year should be worn henrietta cloth or serge trimmed with crape, at first with black tulle at the wrists and neck. a deep veil is worn at the back of the bonnet, but not over the head or face like the widow's veil, which covers the entire person when down. this fashion is very much objected to by doctors, who think many diseases of the eye come by this means, and advise for common use thin nun's-veiling instead of crape, which sheds its pernicious dye into the sensitive nostrils, producing catarrhal disease as well as blindness and cataract of the eye. it is a thousand pities that fashion dictates the crape veil, but so it is. it is the very banner of woe, and no one has the courage to go without it. we can only suggest to mourners wearing it that they should pin a small veil of black tulle over the eyes and nose, and throw back the heavy crape as often as possible, for health's sake. jet ornaments alone should be worn for eighteen months, unless diamonds set as mementoes are used. for half-mourning, a bonnet of silk or chip, trimmed with crape and ribbon. mourning flowers, and cr�pe lisse at the hands and wrists, lead the way to gray, mauve, and white-and-black toilettes after the second year. mourning for a brother or sister may be the same; for a stepfather or stepmother the same; for grandparents the same; but the duration may be shorter. in england this sort of respectful mourning only lasts three months. mourning for children should last nine months, the first three the dress should be crape-trimmed, the mourning less deep than that for a husband. no one is ever ready to take off mourning; therefore these rules have this advantage--they enable the friends around a grief-stricken mother to tell her when is the time to make her dress more cheerful, which she is bound to do for the sake of the survivors, many of whom are perhaps affected for life by seeing a mother always in black. it is well for mothers to remember this when sorrow for a lost child makes all the earth seem barren to them. we are often asked whether letters of condolence should be written on black-edged paper. decidedly not, unless the writer is in black. the telegraph now flashes messages of respect and sympathy across sea and land like a voice from the heart. perhaps it is better than any other word of sympathy, although all who can should write to a bereaved person. there is no formula possible for these letters; they must be left to the individual's good taste, and perhaps the simplest and least conventional are the best. a card with a few words pencilled on it has often been the best letter of condolence. in france a long and deeply edged mourning letter or address, called a _faire part_, is sent to every one known to the family to advise them of a death. in this country that is not done, although some mention of the deceased is generally sent to friends in europe who would not otherwise hear of the death. wives wear mourning for the relatives of their husbands precisely as they would for their own, as would husbands for the relatives of their wives. widowers wear mourning for their wives two years in england; here only one year. widowers go into society at a much earlier date than widows, it being a received rule that all gentlemen in mourning for relatives go into society very much sooner than ladies. ladies of the family attend the funeral of a relative if they are able to do so, and wear their deepest mourning. servants are usually put in mourning for the head of the family--sometimes for any member of it. they should wear a plain black livery and weeds on their hats; the inside lining of the family carriage should also be of black. the period of mourning for an aunt or uncle or cousin is of three months' duration, and that time at least should elapse before the family go out or into gay company, or are seen at theatres or operas, etc. we now come to the saddest part of our subject, the consideration of the dead body, so dear, yet so soon to leave us; so familiar, yet so far away--the cast-off dress, the beloved clay. dust to dust, ashes to ashes! as for the coffin, it is simpler than formerly; and, while lined with satin and made with care, it is plain on the outside--black cloth, with silver plate for the name, and silver handles, being in the most modern taste. there are but few of the "trappings of woe." at the funeral of general grant, twice a president, and regarded as the saviour of his country, there was a gorgeous catafalque of purple velvet, but at the ordinary funeral there are none of these trappings. if our richest citizen were to die to-morrow, he would probably be buried plainly. yet it is touching to see with what fidelity the poorest creature tries to "bury her dead dacent." the destitute irish woman begs for a few dollars for this sacred duty, and seldom in vain. it is a duty for the rich to put down ostentation in funerals, for it is an expense which comes heavily on those who have poverty added to grief. in dressing the remains for the grave, those of a man are usually "clad in his habit as he lived." for a woman, tastes differ: a white robe and cap, not necessarily shroudlike, are decidedly unexceptionable. for young persons and children white cashmere robes and flowers are always most appropriate. the late cardinal, whose splendid obsequies and whose regal "lying in state" were in keeping with his high rank and the gorgeous ceremonial of his church, was strongly opposed to the profuse use of flowers at funerals, and requested that none be sent to deck his lifeless clay. he was a modest and humble man, and always on the right side in these things; therefore let his advice prevail. a few flowers placed in the dead hand, perhaps a simple wreath, but not those unmeaning memorials which have become to real mourners such sad perversities of good taste, such a misuse of flowers. let those who can afford to send such things devote the money to the use of poor mothers who cannot afford to buy a coffin for a dead child or a coat for a living one. in the course of a month after a death all friends of the deceased are expected to leave cards on the survivors, and it is discretionary whether these be written on or not. these cards should be carefully preserved, that, when the mourner is ready to return to the world, they may be properly acknowledged. chapter xxiii. letters of condolence. probably no branch of the epistolary art has ever given to friendly hearts so much perplexity as that which has to do with writing to friends in affliction. it is delightful to sit down and wish anybody joy; to overflow with congratulatory phrases over a favorable bit of news; to say how glad you are that your friend is engaged or married, or has inherited a fortune, has written a successful book, or has painted an immortal picture. joy opens the closet of language, and the gems of expression are easily found; but the fountain of feeling being chilled by the uncongenial atmosphere of grief, by the sudden horror of death, or the more terrible breath of dishonor or shame, or even by the cold blast of undeserved misfortune, leaves the individual sympathizer in a mood of perplexity and of sadness which is of itself a most discouraging frame of mind for the inditing of a letter. and yet we sympathize with our friend: we desire to tell him so. we want to say, "my friend, your grief is my grief; nothing can hurt you that does not hurt me. i cannot, of course, enter into all your feelings, but to stand by and see you hurt, and remain unmoved myself, is impossible." all this we wish to say; but how shall we say it that our words may not hurt him a great deal more than he is hurt already? how shall we lay our hand so tenderly on that sore spot that we may not inflict a fresh wound? how can we say to a mother who bends over a fresh grave, that we regret the loss she has sustained in the death of her child? can language measure the depth, the height, the immensity, the bitterness of that grief? what shall we say that is not trite and commonplace--even unfeeling? shall we be pagan, and say that "whom the gods love die young," or christian, and remark that "god does not willingly afflict the children of men?" she has thought of that, she has heard it, alas! often before--but too often, as she thinks now. shall we tell her what she has lost--how good, how loving, how brave, how admirable was the spirit which has just left the flesh? alas! how well she knows that! how her tears well up as she remembers the silent fortitude, the heroic patience under the pain that was to kill! shall we quote ancient philosophers and modern poets? they have all dwelt at greater or less length upon death and the grave. or shall we say, in simple and unpremeditated words, the thoughts which fill our own minds? the person who has to write this letter may be a ready writer, who finds fit expression at the point of his pen, and who overflows with the language of consolation--such a one needs no advice; but to the hundreds who do need help we would say that the simplest expressions are the best. a distant friend, upon one of these occasions, wrote a letter as brief as brief might be, but of its kind altogether perfect. it ran thus: "i have heard of your great grief, and i send you a simple pressure of the hand." coming from a gay and volatile person, it had for the mourner great consolation; pious quotations, and even the commonplaces of condolence, would have seemed forced. undoubtedly those persons do us great good, or they wish to, who tell us to be resigned--that we have deserved this affliction; that we suffer now, but that our present sufferings are nothing to what our future sufferings shall be; that we are only entering the portals of agony, and that every day will reveal to us the magnitude of our loss. such is the formula which certain persons use, under the title of "letters of condolence." it is the wine mixed with gall which they gave our lord to drink; and as he refused it, so may we. there are, no doubt, persons of a gloomy and a religious temperament combined who delight in such phrases; who quote the least consolatory of the texts of scripture; who roll our grief as a sweet morsel under their tongues; who really envy the position of chief mourner as one of great dignity and considerable consequence; who consider crape and bombazine as a sort of royal mantle conferring distinction. there are many such people in the world. dickens and anthony trollope have put them into novels--solemn and ridiculous malvolios; they exist in nature, in literature, and in art. it adds a new terror to death when we reflect that such persons will not fail to make it the occasion of letter-writing. but those who write to us strongly and cheerfully, who do not dwell so much on our grief as on our remaining duties--they are the people who help us. to advise a mourner to go out into the sun, to resume his work, to help the poor, and, above all, to carry on the efforts, to emulate the virtues of the deceased--this is comfort. it is a very dear and consoling thing to a bereaved friend to hear the excellence of the departed extolled, to read and re-read all of the precious testimony which is borne by outsiders to the saintly life ended--and there are few so hard-hearted as not to find something good to say of the dead: it is the impulse of human nature; it underlies all our philosophy and our religion; it is the "stretching out of a hand," and it comforts the afflicted. but what shall we say to those on whom disgrace has laid its heavy, defiling hand? is it well to write to them at all? shall we not be mistaken for those who prowl like jackals round a grave, and will not our motives be misunderstood? is not sympathy sometimes malice in disguise? does not the phrase "i am so sorry for you!" sometimes sound like "i am so glad for myself?" undoubtedly it does; but a sincere friend should not be restrained, through fear that his motive may be mistaken, from saying that he wishes to bear some part of the burden. let him show that the unhappy man is in his thoughts, that he would like to help, that he would be glad to see him, or take him out, or send him a book, or at least write him a letter. such a wish as this will hurt no one. philosophy--some quaint and dry bit of old seneca, or modern rochefoucauld--has often helped a struggling heart when disgrace, deserved or undeserved, has placed the soul in gyves of iron. sympathetic persons, of narrow minds and imperfect education, often have the gift of being able to say most consolatory things. irish servants, for instance, rarely hurt the feelings of a mourner. they burst out in the language of nature, and, if it is sometimes grotesque, it is almost always comforting. it is the educated and conscientious person who finds the writing of a letter of condolence difficult. perhaps much of our dread of death is the result of a false education, and the wearing of black may after all be a mistake. at the moment when we need bright colors, fresh flowers, sunshine, and beauty, we hide ourselves behind crape veils and make our garments heavy with ashes; but as it is conventional it is in one way a protection, and is therefore proper. no one feels like varying the expressions of a grief which has the anglo-saxon seriousness in it, the scandinavian melancholy of a people from whom nature hides herself behind a curtain of night. to the sunny and graceful greek the road of the dead was the via felice; it was the happy way, the gate of flowers; the tombs were furnished as the houses were, with images of the beloved, and the veriest trifles which the deceased had loved. one wonders, as the tomb of a child is opened on the road out of tanagra, near athens, and the toys and hobby-horse and little shoes are found therein, if, after all, that father and mother were not wiser than we who, like constance, "stuff out his vacant garments with his form." is there not something quite unenlightened in the persistence with which we connect death with gloom? our correspondents often ask us when a letter of condolence should be written? as soon as possible. do not be afraid to intrude on any grief, it is generally a welcome distraction; to even the most morbid mourner, to read a letter; and those who are so stunned by grief as not to be able to write or to read will always have some willing soul near them who will read and answer for them. the afflicted, however, should never be expected to answer letters, they can and should receive the kindest and the most prompt that their friends can indite, often a phrase on which the writer has built no hope may be the airy-bridge over which the sorrowing soul returns slowly and blindly to peace and resignation. who would miss the chance, be it one in ten thousand, of building such a bridge? those who have suffered and been strong, those whom we love and respect, those who have the honest faith in human nature which enables them to read aright the riddle of this strange world, those who by faith walk over burning ploughshares and dread no evil, those are the people who write the best letters of condolence. they do not dwell on our grief, or exaggerate it, although they are evidently writing to us with a lump in the throat and a tear in the eye--they do not say so, but we feel it. they tell us of the certain influence of time, which will change our present grief into our future joy. they say a few beautiful words of the friend whom we have lost, recount their own loss in him in a few fitting words of earnest sympathy which may carry consolation, if only by the wish of the writer. they beg of us to be patient. god has brought life and immortality to light through death, and to those whom "he has thought worthy to endure," this thought may ever form the basis of a letter of condolence. "give me," said the dying herder, "a great thought, that i may console myself with that." it is a present of no mean value, a great thought; and if every letter of condolence could bear with it one broad phrase of honest sympathy it would be a blessed instrumentality for carrying patience and resignation, peace and comfort, into those dark places where the sufferer is eating his heart out with grief, or where rachel "weeps for her children, and will not be comforted, because they are not." chapter xxiv. chaperons and their duties. it is strange that the americans, so prone to imitate british customs, have been slow to adopt that law of english society which pronounces a chaperon an indispensable adjunct of every unmarried young woman. the readers of "little dorrit" will recall the exceedingly witty sketch of mrs. general, who taught her young ladies to form their mouths into a lady-like pattern by saying "papa, potatoes, prunes, and prism." dickens knew very little of society, and cared very little for its laws, and his ladies and gentlemen were pronounced in england to be as great failures as his little nells and dick swivellers were successes; but he recognized the universality of chaperons. his portrait of mrs. general (the first luxury which mr. dorrit allowed himself after inheriting his fortune) shows how universal is the necessity of a chaperon in english society, and on the continent, to the proper introduction of young ladies, and how entirely their "style" depends upon their chaperon. of course dickens made her funny, of course he made her ridiculous, but he put her there. an american novelist would not have thought it worth mentioning, nor would an american papa with two motherless daughters have thought it necessary, if he travelled with them, to have a chaperon for his daughters. of course, a mother is the natural chaperon of her daughters, and if she understand her duties and the usages of society there is nothing further to be said. but the trouble is that many american mothers are exceedingly careless on this point. we need not point to the wonderful mrs. miller--daisy's mother--in henry james, jr.'s, photograph of a large class of american matrons--a woman who loved her daughter, knew how to take care of her when she was ill, but did not know in the least how to take care of her when she was well; who allowed her to go about with young men alone, to "get engaged," if so she pleased, and who, arriving at a party after her daughter had appeared, rather apologized for coming at all. all this is notoriously true, and comes of our crude civilization. it is the transition state. until we learn better, we must expect to be laughed at on the pincian hill, and we must expect english novelists to paint pictures of us which we resent, and french dramatists to write plays in which we see ourselves held up as savages. europeans have been in the habit of taking care of young girls, as if they were the precious porcelain of human clay. the american mamma treats her beautiful daughter as if she were a very common piece of delft indeed, and as if she could drift down the stream of life, knocking all other vessels to pieces, but escaping injury to herself. owing to the very remarkable and strong sense of propriety which american women innately possess--their truly healthy love of virtue, the absence of any morbid suspicion of wrong--this rule has worked better than any one would have dared hope. owing, also, to the exceptionally respectful and chivalrous nature of american men, it has been possible for a young lady to travel unattended from maine to georgia, or anywhere within the new geographical limits of our social growth. mr. howells founded a romance upon this principle, that american women do not need a chaperon. yet we must remember that all the black sheep are not killed yet, and we must also remember that propriety must be more attended to as we cease to be a young and primitive nation, and as we enter the lists of the rich, cultivated, luxurious people of the earth. little as we may care for the opinion of foreigners we do not wish our young ladies to appear in their eyes in a false attitude, and one of the first necessities of a proper attitude, one of the first demands of a polished society, is the presence of a chaperon. she should be a lady old enough to be the mother of her charge, and of unexceptionable manner. she must know society thoroughly herself, and respect its laws. she should be above the suspicion of reproach in character, and devoted to her work. in england there are hundreds of widows of half-pay officers--well-born, well-trained, well-educated women--who can be hired for money, as was mrs. general, to play this part. there is no such class in america, but there is almost always a lady who will gladly perform the task of chaperoning motherless girls without remuneration. it is not considered proper in england for a widowed father to place an unmarried daughter at the head of his house without the companionship of a resident chaperon, and there are grave objections to its being done here. we have all known instances where such liberty has been very bad for young girls, and where it has led to great scandals which the presence of a chaperon would have averted. the duties of a chaperon are very hard and unremitting, and sometimes very disagreeable. she must accompany her young lady everywhere; she must sit in the parlor when she receives gentlemen; she must go with her to the skating-rink, the ball, the party, the races, the dinners, and especially to theatre parties; she must preside at the table, and act the part of a mother, so far as she can; she must watch the characters of the men who approach her charge, and endeavor to save the inexperienced girl from the dangers of a bad marriage, if possible. to perform this feat, and not to degenerate into a spanish duenna, a dragon, or a mrs. general--who was simply a fool--is a very difficult task. no doubt a vivacious american girl, with all her inherited hatred of authority, is a troublesome charge. all young people are rebels. they dislike being watched and guarded. they have no idea what hesperidean fruit they are, and they object to the dragon decidedly. but a wise, well-tempered woman can manage the situation. if she have tact, a chaperon will add very much to the happiness of her young charge. she will see that the proper men are introduced; that her young lady is provided with a partner for the german; that she is asked to nice places; that she goes well dressed and properly accompanied; that she gives the return ball herself in handsome style. "i owe," said a wealthy widower in new york, whose daughters all made remarkably happy marriages--"i owe all their happiness to mrs. constant, whom i was so fortunate as to secure as their chaperon. she knew society (which i did not), as if it were in her pocket. she knew exactly what girls ought to do, and she was so agreeable herself that they never disliked having her with them. she was very rigid, too, and would not let them stay late at balls; but they loved and respected her so much that they never rebelled, and now they love her as if she were really their mother." a woman of elegant manners and of charming character, who will submit to the slavery--for it is little less--of being a chaperon, is hard to find; yet every motherless family should try to secure such a person. in travelling in europe, an accomplished chaperon can do more for young girls than any amount of fortune. she has the thing they want--that is, knowledge. with her they can go everywhere--to picture-galleries, theatres, public and private balls, and into society, if they wish it. it is "etiquette" to have a chaperon, and it is the greatest violation of it not to have one. if a woman is protected by the armor of work, she can dispense with a chaperon. the young artist goes about her copying unquestioned, but in society, with its different laws, she must be under the care of an older woman than herself. a chaperon is indispensable to an engaged girl. the mother, or some lady friend, should always accompany a young _fianc�e_ on her journeys to the various places of amusement and to the watering-places. nothing is more vulgar in the eyes of our modern society than for an engaged couple to travel together or to go to the theatre unaccompanied, as was the primitive custom. this will, we know, shock many americans, and be called a "foolish following of foreign fashions." but it is true; and, if it were only for the "looks of the thing," it is more decent, more elegant, and more correct for the young couple to be accompanied by a chaperon until married. society allows an engaged girl to drive with her _fianc�_ in an open carriage, but it does not approve of his taking her in a close carriage to an evening party. there are non-resident chaperons who are most popular and most useful. thus, one mamma or elderly lady may chaperon a number of young ladies to a dinner, or a drive on a coach, a sail down the bay, or a ball at west point. this lady looks after all her young charges, and attends to their propriety and their happiness. she is the guardian angel, for the moment, of their conduct. it is a care which young men always admire and respect--this of a kind, well-bred chaperon, who does not allow the youthful spirits of her charges to run away with them. the chaperon, if an intelligent woman, and with the sort of social talent which a chaperon ought to have, is the best friend of a family of shy girls. she brings them forward, and places them in a position in which they can enjoy society; for there is a great deal of tact required in a large city to make a retiring girl enjoy herself. society demands a certain amount of handling, which only the social expert understands. to this the chaperon should be equal. there are some women who have a social talent which is simply napoleonic. they manage it as a great general does his _corps de bataille_. again, there are bad chaperons. a flirtatious married woman who is thinking of herself only, and who takes young girls about merely to enable herself to lead a gay life (and the world is full of such women), is worse than no chaperon at all. she is not a protection to the young lady, and she disgusts the honorable men who would like to approach her charge. a very young chaperon, bent on pleasure, who undertakes to make respectable the coaching party, but who has no dignity of character to impress upon it, is a very poor one. many of the most flagrant violations of propriety, in what is called the fashionable set, have arisen from this choice of young chaperons, which is a mere begging of the question, and no chaperonage at all. too much champagne is drunk, too late hours are kept, silly stories are circulated, and appearances are disregarded by these gay girls and their young chaperons; and yet they dislike very much to see themselves afterwards held up to ridicule in the pages of a magazine by an englishman, whose every sentiment of propriety, both educated and innate, has been shocked by their conduct. a young frenchman who visited america a few years ago formed the worst judgment of american women because he met one alone at an artist's studio. he misinterpreted the profoundly sacred and corrective influences of art. it had not occurred to the lady that if she went to see a picture she would be suspected of wishing to see the artist. still, the fact that such a mistake could be made should render ladies careful of even the appearance of evil. a chaperon should in her turn remember that she must not open a letter, she must not exercise an unwise surveillance. she must not _suspect_ her charge. all that sort of spanish _espionage_ is always outwitted. the most successful chaperons are those who love their young charges, respect them, try to be in every way what the mother would have been. of course, all relations of this sort are open to many drawbacks on both sides, but it is not impossible that it may be an agreeable relation, if both parties exercise a little tact. in selecting a chaperon for a young charge, let parents or guardians be very particular as to the past history of the lady. if she has ever been talked about, ever suffered the bad reputation of flirt or coquette, do not think of placing her in that position. clubs have long memories, and the fate of more than one young heiress has been imperilled by an injudicious choice of a chaperon. if any woman should have a spotless record and admirable character it should be the chaperon. it will tell against her charge if she have not. certain needy women who have been ladies, and who precariously attach to society through their families, are always seeking for some young heiress. these women are very poor chaperons, and should be avoided. this business of chaperonage is a point which demands attention on the part of careless american mothers. no mother should be oblivious of her duty in this respect. it does not imply that she doubts her daughter's honor or truth, or that she thinks she needs watching, but it is proper and respectable and necessary that she should appear by her daughter's side in society. the world is full of traps. it is impossible to be too careful of the reputation of a young lady, and it improves the tone of society vastly if an elegant and respectable woman of middle age accompanies every young party. it goes far to silence the ceaseless clatter of gossip; it is the antidote to scandal; it makes the air clearer; and, above all, it improves the character, the manners, and elevates the minds of the young people who are so happy as to enjoy the society and to feel the authority of a cultivated, wise, and good chaperon. chapter xxv. etiquette for elderly girls. a brisk correspondent writes to us that she finds our restrictions as to the etiquette which single women should follow somewhat embarrassing. being now thirty-five, and at the head of her father's house, with no intention of ever marrying, she asks if she requires a chaperon; if it is necessary that she should observe the severe self-denial of not entering an artist's studio without a guardian angel; if she must never allow a gentleman to pay for her theatre tickets; if she must, in short, assume a matron's place in the world, and never enjoy a matron's freedom. from her letter we can but believe that this young lady of thirty-five is a very attractive person, and that she does "not look her age." still, as she is at the head of her father's house, etiquette does yield a point and allows her to judge for herself as to the proprieties which must bend to her. of course with every year of a woman's life after twenty-five she becomes less and less the subject of chaperonage. for one thing, she is better able to judge of the world and its temptations; in the second place, a certain air which may not be less winning, but which is certainly more mature, has replaced the wild grace of a giddy girlhood. she has, with the assumption of years, taken on a dignity which, in its way, is fully the compensation for some lost bloom. many people prefer it. but we must say here that she is not yet, in european opinion, emancipated from that guardianship which society dispenses with for the youngest widow. she must have a "companion" if she is a rich woman; and if she is a poor one she must join some party of friends when she travels. she can travel abroad with her maid, but in paris and other continental cities a woman still young-looking had better not do this. she is not safe from insult nor from injurious suspicion if she signs herself "miss" smith, and is without her mother, an elderly friend, a companion, or party. in america a woman can go anywhere and do almost anything without fear of insult. but in europe, where the custom of chaperonage is so universal, she must be more circumspect. as to visiting an artist's studio alone, there is in art itself an ennobling and purifying influence which should be a protection. but we must not forget that saucy book by maurice sand, in which its author says that the first thing he observed in america was that women (even respectable ones) went alone to artists' studios. it would seem wiser, therefore, that a lady, though thirty-five, should be attended in her visits to studios by a friend or companion. this simple expedient "silences envious tongues," and avoids even the remotest appearance of evil. in the matter of paying for tickets, if a lady of thirty-five wishes to allow a gentleman to pay for her admission to picture-galleries and theatres she has an indisputable right to do so. but we are not fighting for a right, only defining a law of etiquette, when we say that it is not generally allowed in the best society, abroad or here. in the case of young girls it is quite unallowable, but in the case of a lady of thirty-five it may be permitted as a sort of _camaraderie_, as one college friend may pay for another. the point is, however, a delicate one. men, in the freedom of their clubs, recount to each other the clever expedients which many women of society use to extort from them boxes for the opera and suppers at delmonico's. a woman should remember that it may sometimes be very inconvenient to young men who are invited by her to go to concerts and theatres to pay for these pleasures. many a poor fellow who has become a defaulter has to thank for it the lady who first asked him to take her to delmonico's to supper. he was ashamed to tell her that he was poor, and he stole that he might not seem a churl. another phase of the subject is that a lady in permitting a gentleman to expend money for her pleasures assumes an obligation to him which time and chance may render oppressive. with an old friend, however, one whose claim to friendship is well established, the conditions are changed. in his case there can be no question of obligation, and a woman may accept unhesitatingly any of those small attentions and kindnesses which friendly feeling may prompt him to offer to her. travelling alone with a gentleman escort was at one time allowed in the west. a kentucky woman of that historic period, "before the war," would not have questioned the propriety of it, and a western man of to-day still has the desire to pay everything, everywhere, "for a lady." the increase in the population of the western states and the growth of a wealthy and fashionable society in the large towns have greatly modified this spirit of unwise chivalry, and such customs are passing away even on the frontier. mr. howells's novel, "the lady of the aroostook," has acquainted american readers with the unkind criticism to which a young lady who travels in europe without a chaperon is subjected, and we believe that there are few mammas who would desire to see their daughters in the position of miss lydia blood. "an old maid," as our correspondent playfully calls herself, may do almost anything without violating etiquette, if she consents to become a chaperon, and takes with her a younger person. thus an aunt and niece can travel far and wide; the position of an elder sister is always dignified; the youthful head of a house has a right to assert herself--she must do it--therefore etiquette bows to her (as "nice customs courtesy to great kings"). there is very much in the appearance of a woman. it is a part of the injustice of nature that some people look coquettish who are not so. bad taste in dress, a high color, a natural flow of spirits, or a loud laugh have often caused a very good woman to be misinterpreted. such a woman should be able to sit in judgment upon herself; and remembering that in a great city, at a crowded theatre, or at a watering-place, judgments must be hasty and superficial, she should tone down her natural exuberance, and take with her a female companion who is of a different type from herself. calm and cold puritanical people may not be more respectable than the fresh-colored and laughing "old maids" of thirty-five, but they look more so, and in this world women must consult appearances. an elderly girl must ever think how she looks. a woman who at a watering-place dresses conspicuously, wears a _peignoir_ to breakfast, dyes her hair, or looks as if she did, ties a white blond veil over her locks and sits on a hotel piazza, showing her feet, may be the best, the most cultivated woman in the house, but a superficial observer will not think so. in the mind of every passer-by will lurk the feeling that she lacks the first grace of womanhood, modesty--and in the criticism of a crowd there is strength. a man passing such a person, and contrasting her with modestly dressed and unobtrusive ladies, would naturally form an unfavorable opinion of her; and were she alone, and her name entered on the books of the house as "miss" smith, he would not be too severe if he thought her decidedly eccentric, and certainly "bad style." if, however, "miss" smith were very plain and quiet, and dressed simply and in good taste, or if she sat on the sands looking at the sea, or attended an invalid or a younger friend, then miss smith might be as independent as she pleased: she would suffer from no injurious comments. even the foreigner, who does not believe in the eccentricities of the english _mees_, would have no word to say against her. a good-looking elderly girl might say, "there is, then, a premium on ugliness;" but that we do not mean. handsome women can conduct themselves so well that the breath of reproach need not and does not touch them, and ugly women may and do sometimes gain an undeserved reproach. there are some people who are born with what we call, for want of a better name, a pinchbeck air. their jewellery never looks like real gold; their manner is always bad; they have the _faux air_ of fashion, not the real one. such people, especially if single, receive many a snub which they do not deserve, and to a woman of this style a companion is almost necessary. fortunately there are almost always _two_ women who can join forces in travelling or in living together, and the independence of such a couple is delightful. we have repeated testimony in english literature of the pleasant lives of the ladies of llangollen, of the lives of miss jewsbury and lady morgan, and of the model sisters berry. in our own country we have almost abolished the idea that a companion is necessary for women of talent who are physicians or artists or musicians; but to those who are still in the trammels of private life we can say that the presence of a companion need not destroy their liberty, and it may add very much to their respectability and happiness. there is, no doubt, a great pleasure in the added freedom of life which comes to an elderly girl. "i can wear a velvet dress now," said an exceedingly handsome woman on her thirtieth birthday. in england an unmarried woman of fifty is called "_mrs._," if she prefers that title. so many delightful women are late in loving, so many are true to some buried love, so many are "elderly girls" from choice, and from no neglect of the stronger sex, that to them should be accorded all the respect which is supposed to accrue naturally to the married. "it takes a very superior woman to be an old maid," said miss sedgwick. chapter xxvi. new-year's calls. "le jour de l'an," as the french call the first day of january, is indeed the principal day of the year to those who still keep up the custom of calling and receiving calls. but in new york it is a custom which is in danger of falling into desuetude, owing to the size of the city and the growth of its population. there are, however, other towns and "much country" (as the indians say) outside of new york, and there are still hospitable boards at which the happy and the light-hearted, the gay and the thoughtful, may meet and exchange wishes for a happy new-year. to those who receive calls we would say that it is well, if possible, to have every arrangement made two or three days before new-year's, as the visiting begins early--sometimes at eleven o'clock--if the caller means to make a goodly day. a lady should have her hair dressed for the day when she rises, and if her dress be not too elaborate she should put it on then, so that she may be in the drawing-room when the first visitor arrives. in regard to the question of dress, we should say that for elderly ladies black satin or velvet, or any of the combination dresses so fashionable now, with handsome lace, and swedish gloves of pearl or tan color (not white kids; these are decidedly rococo, and not in fashion), would be appropriate. a black satin, well made, and trimmed with beaded _passementerie_, is perhaps the handsomest dress that could be worn by any one. brocaded silk, plain gros grain, anything that a lady would wear at the wedding reception of her daughter is suitable, although a plain dress is in better taste. for young ladies nothing is so pretty as a dress of light cashmere and silk, cut high at the throat. these dresses, in the very pretty tints worn now, are extremely becoming, warm-looking, and appropriate for a reception, when the door is being often opened. white dresses of thick silk or cashmere, trimmed around the neck with lace, are also very elegant. in all countries young married women are allowed to be as magnificent as a picture of marie de medici, and can wear on new-year's day rose-colored and white brocaded silks, with pearl trimmings, or plain ciel blue, or prawn-colored silk over white, or embossed velvet, or what they please, so that the dress is cut high, and has sleeves to the elbow. each lady should have near her an ermine cloak, or a small camel's-hair shawl in case of draughts. it is not good taste to wear low-necked or sleeveless dresses during the day-time. they are worn by brides on their wedding-day sometimes, but at receptions or on new-year's day scarcely ever. while much magnificence is permissible, still a plain black or dark silk dress, if well made, with fresh ruffles at neck and wrists, is quite as proper as anything else, and men generally admire it more. but where a lady has several daughters to receive with her, she should study the effect of her rooms, and dress the young ladies in prettily contrasting colors. this may be cheaply done by using the soft, fine merinoes, which are to be had in all the delicate and fashionable shades. short dresses of this material are much used; but now that imported dresses are so easily obtained, a mother with many daughters to dress cannot do better than buy costumes similar to those worn by economical french ladies on their _jour de l'an_. one article of dress is _de rigeur_. with whatever style of costume, gloves must be worn. a lady who expects to have many calls, and who wishes to offer refreshments, should have hot tea and coffee and a bowl of punch on a convenient table; or, better still, a silver kettle filled with bouillon standing in the hall, so that a gentleman coming in or going out can take a cup of it unsolicited. if she lives in an english basement house, this table can be in the lower dining-room. in a house three rooms deep the table and all the refreshments can be in the usual dining-room or in the upper back-parlor. of course, her "grand spread" can be as gorgeous as she pleases. hot oysters, salads, boned turkey, quail, and hot terrapin, with wines _ad libitum_, are offered by the wealthy; but this is a difficult table to keep in order when ten men call at one o'clock, and forty at four, and none between. the best table is one which is furnished with boned turkey, jellied tongues, and _p�t�s_, sandwiches, and similar dishes, with cake and fruit as decorative additions. the modern and admirable adjunct of a spirit-lamp under a teakettle keeps the bouillon, tea, and coffee always hot, and these, with the teacups necessary to serve them, should be on a small table at one side. a maid-servant, neatly dressed, should be in constant attendance on this table, and a man-servant or two will be needed to attend the door and to wait at table. the man at the door should have a silver tray or card-basket in which to receive the cards of visitors. if a gentleman is not known to the lady of the house, he sends in his card; otherwise he leaves it with the waiter, who deposits it in some receptacle where it should be kept until the lady has leisure to examine the cards of all her guests. if a gentleman is calling on a young lady, and is not known to the hostess, he sends in his card to the former, who presents him to the hostess and to all the ladies present. if the room is full, an introduction to the hostess only is necessary. if the room is comparatively empty, it is much kinder to present a gentleman to each lady, as it tends to make conversation general. as a guest is about to depart, he should be invited to take some refreshment, and be conducted towards the dining-room for that purpose. this hospitality should never be urged, as man is a creature who dines, and is seldom willing to allow a luncheon to spoil a dinner. in a country neighborhood, however, or after a long walk, a visitor is almost always glad to break his fast and enjoy a pickled oyster, a sandwich, or a cup of bouillon. the etiquette of new-year's day commands, peremptorily, that a gentleman shall not be asked to take off his overcoat nor to be relieved of his hat. he will probably prefer to wear his overcoat, and to carry his hat in his hand during his brief visit. if he wishes to dispose of either, he will do so in the hall; but on that point he is a free moral agent, and it is not a part of the duty of a hostess to suggest what he shall do with his clothes. many letters come to us asking "what subjects should be talked about during a new-year's call." alas! we can only suggest the weather and the good wishes appropriate to the season. the conversation is apt to be fragmentary. one good _mot_ was evolved a few years ago, when roads were snowy and ways were foul. a gentleman complained of the mud and the dirty streets. "yes," said the lady, "but it is very bright overhead." "i am not going that way," replied the gentleman. a gentleman should not be urged to stay when he calls. he has generally but five minutes in which to express a desire that old and pleasant memories shall be continued, that new and cordial friendships shall be formed, and after that compliment, which every wall-bred man pays a lady, "how remarkably well you are looking to-day!" he wishes to be off. in france it is the custom for a gentleman to wear a dress-coat when calling on a great public functionary on new-year's day, but it is not so in america. here he should, wear the dress in which he would make an ordinary morning visit. when he enters a room he should not remove his gloves, nor should he say, as he greets his hostess, "excuse my glove." he should take her gloved hand in his and give it a cordial pressure, according to our pleasant american fashion. when leaving, the ceremony is very brief--simply, "good-morning," or "good-evening," as the case may be. it is proper for gentlemen to call late in the evening of new-year's day, and calls are made during the ensuing evenings by people who are otherwise occupied in the daytime. if the family are at dinner, or the lady is fatigued with the day's duties, the servant must say at the door that mrs._____ desires to be excused. he must not present the card to her, and thus oblige her to send to her visitor a message which might be taken as a personal affront. but she must have the servant instructed to refuse all at certain hours; then none can be offended. many ladies in new york are no longer "at home" on new-year's day; and when this is the case a basket is tied at the door to receive cards. they do this because so many gentlemen have given up the custom of calling that it seems to be dying out, and all their preparations for a reception become a hollow mockery. how many weary women have sat with novel in hand and luncheon-table spread, waiting for the callers who did not come! the practice of sending cards to gentlemen, stating that a lady would be at home on new-year's day, has also very much gone out of fashion, owing to the fact that gentlemen frequently did not respond to them. it is, however, proper that a married lady returning to her home after a long absence in europe, or one who has changed her residence, or who is living at a hotel or boarding-house (or who is visiting friends), should send her card to those gentlemen whom she wishes to receive. it must be remembered that many gentlemen, generally those no longer young, still like very much the fashion of visiting on new-year's day, and go to see as many people as they can in a brief winter's sunshine. these gentlemen deplore the basket at the door, and the decadence of the old custom in new york. family friends and old friends, those whom they never see at any other time, are to be seen--or they should be seen, so these old friends think--on new-year's day. a personal call is more agreeable than a card. let a gentleman call, and in person, or take no notice of the day. so say the most trustworthy authorities, and their opinion has an excellent foundation of common-sense. could we only go back to the old dutch town where the custom started, where all animosities were healed, all offences forgotten, on new-year's day, when the good dutch housewives made their own cakes and spiced the loving-cup, when all the women stayed at home to receive and all the men called, what a different new-year's day we should enjoy in new york. nowadays, two or three visitors arrive before the hostess is ready to receive them; then one comes after she has appeared, vanishes, and she remains alone for two hours; then forty come. she remembers none of their names, and has no rational or profitable conversation with any of them. but for the abusers of new-year's day, the pretenders who, with no right to call, come in under cover of the general hospitality of the season--the bores, who on this day, as on all days, are only tiresome--we have no salve, no patent cure. a hostess must receive them with the utmost suavity, and be as amiable and agreeable as possible. new-year's day is a very brilliant one at washington. all the world calls on the president at twelve o'clock; the diplomats in full dress, officers of the army and navy in full uniform, and the other people grandly attired. later, the heads of departments, cabinet ministers, judges, etc., receive the lesser lights of society. in paris the same etiquette is observed, and every clerk calls on his chief. in a small city or village etiquette manages itself, and ladies have only to let it be known that they will be at home, with hot coffee and oysters, to receive the most agreeable kind of callers--those who come because they really wish to pay a visit, to express goodwill, and to ask for that expression of friendship which our reserved anglo-saxon natures are so prone to withhold. in new york a few years ago the temperance people made a great onslaught on ladies who invited young men to drink on new-year's day. it was said to lead to much disorder and intemperance; and so, from fear of causing one's brother to sin, many have banished the familiar punch-bowl. in a number of well-known houses in new york no luncheon is offered, and a cup of bouillon or coffee and a sandwich is the usual refreshment in the richest and most stylish houses. it will be seen, therefore, that it is a day of largest liberty. there are no longer any sumptuary laws; but it is impossible to say why ladies of the highest fashion in new york do not still make it a gala-day. the multiplicity of other entertainments, the unseen yet all-powerful influence of fashion, these things mould the world insensibly. yet in a thousand homes, thousands of cordial hands will be extended on the great first of january, and to all of them we wish a happy new year. chapter xxvii. matin�es and soir�es. a matin�e in america means an afternoon performance at the theatre of a play or opera. in europe it has a wider significance, any social gathering before dinner in france being called a _matin�e_, as any party after dinner is called a _soir�e_. the improper application of another foreign word was strikingly manifested in the old fashion of calling the president's evening receptions _levees_. the term "levee," as originally used, meant literally a king's getting up. when he arose, and while he was dressing, such of his courtiers as were privileged to approach him at this hour gathered in an anteroom-waiting to assist at his toilet, to wish him good morning, or perhaps prefer a request. in time this morning gathering grew to be an important court ceremonial, and some one ignorant of the meaning of the word named president jackson's evening receptions "the president's levees." so with the word _matin�e_. first used to indicate a day reception at court, it has now grown to mean a day performance at a theatre. sometimes a lady, bolder than her neighbors, issues an invitation for "a _matin�e dansante_," or "a _matin�e musicale_," but this descriptive style is not common. there are many advantages in a morning party. it affords to ladies who do not go to evening receptions the pleasure of meeting informally, and is also a well-chosen occasion for introducing a new pianist or singer. for a busy woman of fashion nothing can be more conveniently timed than a _matin�e_, which begins at two and ends at four or half past. it does not interfere with a five-o'clock tea or a drive in the park, nor unfit her for a dinner or an evening entertainment. two o'clock is also a very good hour for a large and informal general lunch, if a lady wishes to avoid the expense, formality, and trouble of a "sit-down" lunch. while the busy ladies can go to a _matin�e_, the busy gentleman cannot; and as men of leisure in america are few, a morning entertainment at a theatre or in society is almost always an assemblage of women. to avoid this inequality of sex, many ladies have their _matin�e_s on some one of the national holidays--washington's birthday, thanksgiving, or decoration-day. on these occasions a _matin�e_, even in busy new york, is well attended by gentlemen. when, as sometimes happens, a prince, a duke, an archbishop, an author of celebrity, a tom hughes, a lord houghton, a dean stanley, or some descendant of our french allies at yorktown, comes on a visit to our country, one of the most satisfactory forms of entertainment that we can offer to him is a morning reception. at an informal _matin�e_ we may bring to meet him such authors, artists, clergymen, lawyers, editors, statesmen, rich and public-spirited citizens, and beautiful and cultivated women of society, as we may be fortunate enough to know. the primary business of society is to bring together the various elements of which it is made up--its strongest motive should be to lighten up the momentous business of life by an easy and friendly intercourse and interchange of ideas. but if we hope to bring about us men of mind and distinction, our object must be not only to be amused but to amuse. to persuade those elderly men who are maintaining the great american name at its present high place in the pantheon of nations to spend a couple of hours at a _matin�e_, we must offer some tempting bait as an equivalent. a lady who entertained dean stanley said that she particularly enjoyed her own _matin�e_ given for him, because through his name she for the first time induced the distinguished clergy of new york to come to her house. such men are not tempted by the frivolities of a fashionable social life that lives by its vanity, its excitement, its rivalry and flirtation. not that all fashionable society is open to such reproach, but its tendency is to lightness and emptiness; and we rarely find really valuable men who seek it. therefore a lady who would make her house attractive to the best society must offer it something higher than that to which we may give the generic title fashion. dress, music, dancing, supper, are delightful accessories-they are ornaments and stimulants, not requisites. for a good society we need men and women who are "good company," as they say in england--men and women who can talk. nor is the advantage all on one side. the free play of brain, taste, and feeling is a most important refreshment to a man who works hard, whether in the pulpit or in wall street, in the editorial chair or at the dull grind of authorship. the painter should wash his brushes and strive for some intercourse of abiding value with those whose lives differ from his own. the woman who works should also look upon the _divertissements_ of society as needed recreation, fruitful, may be, of the best culture. on the other hand, no society is perfect without the elements of beauty, grace, taste, refinement, and luxury. we must bring all these varied potentialities together if we would have a real and living social life. for that brilliant thing that we call society is a finely-woven fabric of threads of different sizes and colors of contrasting shades. it is not intrigue, or the display of wealth, or morbid excitement that must bind together this social fabric, but sympathy, that pleasant thing which refines and refreshes, and "knits up the ravelled sleeve of care," and leaves us strong for the battle of life. and in no modern form of entertainment can we better produce this finer atmosphere, this desirable sympathy between the world of fashion and that of thought, than by _matin�es_, when given under favorable circumstances. to be sure, if we gave one every day it would be necessary, as we have said, to dispense with a large number of gentlemen; but the occasional _matinee_ is apt to catch some very good specimens of the _genus homo_, and sometimes the best specimens. it is proper to offer a very substantial _buffet, as people rarely lunch before two o'clock, and will be glad of a bit of bird, a cup of bouillon, or a leaf of salad. it is much better to offer such an entertainment earlier than the five-o'clock tea; at which hour people are saving their appetites for dinner. a _soir�e_ is a far more difficult affair, and calls for more subtle treatment. it should be, not a ball, but what was formerly called an "evening party." it need not exclude dancing, but dancing is not its excuse for being. it means a very bright _conversazione_, or a reading, or a _musicale_, with pretty evening dress (not necessarily ball dress), a supper, and early hours. such, at least, was its early significance abroad. it has this advantage in new york, that it does attract gentlemen. they like very much the easy-going, early-houred _soir�e_. we mean, of course, those gentlemen who no longer care for balls, and if aristocracy is to be desired, "the rule of the best," at american entertainments, all aspirants for social distinction should try to propitiate those men who are being driven from the ballroom by the insolence and pretension of the lower elements of fashionable society. in europe, the very qualities which make a man great in the senate, the field, or the chamber of commerce, give him a corresponding eminence in the social world. many a gray-mustached veteran in paris leads the german. a senator of france aspires to appear well in the boudoir. with these men social dexterity is a requisite to success, and is cultivated as a duty. it is not so here, for the two great factors of success in america, wealth and learning, do not always fit a man for society, and still less does society adapt itself to them. the _soir�e_, if properly conducted, is an entertainment to which can be brought the best elements of our society: elderly, thoughtful, and educated men. a lady should not, however, in the matter of dress, confound a _soir�e_ with a concert or reception. it is the height of impropriety to wear a bonnet to the former, as has been done in new york, to the everlasting disgust of the hostess. when a hostess takes the pains to issue an invitation to a _soir�e_ a week or a fortnight before it is to occur, she should be repaid by the careful dressing and early arrival of her guests. it may be proper to go to an evening reception in a bonnet, but never to a _soir�e_ or an evening party. there is no doubt that wealth has become a power in american society, and that we are in danger of feeling that, if we have not wealth, we can give neither _matin�es_ nor _soir�es_; but this is a mistake. of course the possession of wealth is most desirable. money is power, and when it is well earned it is a noble power; but it does not command all those advantages which are the very essence of social intercourse. it may pamper the appetite, but it does not always feed the mind. there is still a corner left for those that have but little money. a lady can give a _matinee_ or a _soiree_ in a small house with very little expenditure of money; and if she has the inspiration of the model entertainer, every one whom she honors with an invitation will flock to her small and unpretending _menage_. there are numbers of people in our large cities who can give great balls, dazzle the eye, confuse and delight the senses, drown us in a sensuous luxury; but how few there are who, in a back street and in a humble house, light that lamp by which the misses berry summoned to their little parlor the cleverest and best people! the elegant, the unpretentious, the quiet _soir�e_ to which the woman of fashion shall welcome the _litt�rateur_ and the artist, the aristocrat who is at the top of the social tree and the millionaire who reached his culmination yesterday, would seem to be that _ultima thule_ for which all people have been sighing ever since society was first thought of. there are some americans who are so foolish as to affect the pride of the hereditary aristocracies, and who have some fancied traditional standard by which they think to keep their blue blood pure. a good old grandfather who had talent, or patriotism, or broad views of statesmanship, "who did the state some service," is a relation to be proud of, but his descendants should take care to show, by some more personal excellence than that of a social exclusiveness, their appreciation of his honesty and ability. what our grandfathers were, a thousand new-comers now are. they made their way--the early american men--untrammelled by class restraints; they arrived at wealth and distinction and social eminence by their own merits; they toiled for the money which buys for their grandsons purple and fine linen. and could they see the pure and perfect snob who now sometimes bears the name which they left so unsullied, they would be exasperated and ashamed, of course, a certain exclusiveness must mark all our _matin�es_ and _soir�es_; they would fail of the chief element of diversion if we invited everybody. let us, therefore, make sure of the aesthetic and intellectual, the sympathetic and the genial, and sift out the pretentious and the impure. the rogues, the pretenders, the adventurers who push into the penetralia of our social circles are many, and it is to the exclusion of such that a hostess should devote herself. it is said that all women are born aristocrats, and it is sometimes said in the same tone with which the speaker afterwards adds that all women are born fools. a woman, from her finer sense, enjoys luxury, fine clothing, gorgeous houses, and all the refinements that money can buy; but even the most idle and luxurious and foolish woman desires that higher luxury which art and intelligence and delicate appreciation can alone bring; the two are necessary to each other. to a hostess the difficulty of entertaining in such a manner as to unite in a perfect whole the financiers, the philosophers, the cultivated foreigners, the people of fashion, the sympathetic and the artistic is very great; but a hostess may bring about the most genial democracy at the modern _matin�e_ or _soir�e_ if she manages properly. chapter xxviii. afternoon tea. the five-o'clock tea began in england, and is continued there, as a needed refreshment after a day's hunting, driving, or out-of-door exercise, before dressing for dinner--that very late dinner of english fashion. it is believed that the princess of wales set the fashion by receiving in her boudoir at some countryhouse in a very becoming "tea gown," which every lady knows to be the most luxurious change from the tight riding-habit or carriage-dress. her friends came in, by her gracious invitation, to her sanctum, between five and seven, to take a cup of tea with her. the london belles were glad to have an excuse for a new entertainment, and gradually it grew to be a fashion, at which people talked so fast and so loud as to suggest the noise of a drum--a kettledrum, the most rattling of all drums. then it was remembered that an old-fashioned entertainment was called a drum, and the tea suggested kettle, and the name fitted the circumstances. in england, where economy is so much the fashion, it was finally pronounced an excellent excuse for the suppression of expense, and it came over to new york during a calamitous period, just after "black friday." ladies were glad to assemble their friends at an hour convenient for their servants, and with an entertainment inexpensive to their husbands. so a kettledrum became the most fashionable of entertainments. people after a while forgot its origin, and gave a splendid ball by daylight, with every luxury of the season, and called it tea at five o'clock, or else paid off all their social obligations by one sweeping "tea," which cost them nothing but the lighting of the gas and the hiring of an additional waiter. they became so popular that they defeated themselves, and ladies had to encompass five, six, sometimes nine teas of an afternoon, and the whole of a cold saturday--the favorite day for teas--was spent in a carriage trying to accomplish the impossible. the only "afternoon tea" that should prevail in a large city like new york is that given by one or two ladies who are usually "at home" at five o'clock every afternoon. if there is a well-known house where the hostess has the firmness and the hospitality to be always seated in front of her blazing urn at that hour, she is sure of a crowd of gentlemen visitors, who come from down-town glad of a cup of tea and a chat and rest between work and dinner. the sight of a pretty girl making tea is always dear to the masculine heart. many of our young lawyers, brokers, and gay men of the hunt like a cup of hot tea at five o'clock. the mistake was in the perversion of the idea, the making it the occasion for the official presentation of a daughter, or the excuse for other and more elaborate entertainments. so, although many a house is opened this winter at the same convenient hour, and with perhaps only the bouillon and tea-kettle and bit of cake or sandwich (for really no one wants more refreshment than this before dinner and after luncheon), the name of these afternoon entertainments has been by mutual consent dropped, and we no longer see the word "kettledrum" or "afternoon tea" on a card, but simply the date and the hour. there is a great deal to be said in this matter on both sides. the primal idea was a good one. to have a gathering of people without the universal oyster was at first a great relief. the people who had not money for grand "spreads" were enabled to show to their more opulent neighbors that they too had the spirit of hospitality. all who have spent a winter in rome remember the frugal entertainment offered, so that an artist with no plentiful purse could still ask a prince to visit him. it became the reproach of americans that they alone were ashamed to be poor, and that, unless they could offer an expensive supper, dinner, or luncheon, they could not ask their friends to come to see them. then, again, the doctors, it was urged, had discovered that tea was the best stimulant for the athlete and for the brain-worker. english "breakfast tea" kept nobody awake, and was the most delightful of appetizers. the cup of tea and a sandwich taken at five o'clock spoiled no one's dinner. the ladies of the house began these entertainments, modestly receiving in plain but pretty dresses; their guests were asked to come in walking-dress. but soon the other side of the story began to tell. a lady going in velvet and furs into a heated room, where gas added its discomfort to the subterranean fires of a furnace, drank her hot cup of tea, and came out to take a dreadful cold. her walking dress was manifestly a dress inappropriate to a kettledrum. then the hostess and the guests both became more dressy, the afternoon tea lost its primitive character and became a gay reception. then, again, the nerves! the doctors condemn even the afternoon cup of tea, and declare that it is the foundation of much of the nervous prostration, the sleeplessness, and the nameless misery of our overexcited and careworn oxygen driven people. we are overworked, no doubt. we are an overcivilized set, particularly in the large cities, and every one must decide for himself or herself if "tea" is not an insidious enemy. that the introduction of an informal and healthful and inexpensive way of entertaining is a grand desideratum no one can fail to observe and allow. but with the growth of an idea the tea blossomed into a supper, and the little knot into a crowd, and of course the name became a misnomer. the ideal entertainment would seem to be a gathering between four and seven, which is thoroughly understood to be a large gas-lighted party, which a lady enters properly dressed for a hot room, having a cloak which she can throw off in the hall, and where she can make her call long or short, as she pleases, and can find a cup of hot bouillon if she is cold, or tea if she prefers it, or a more elaborate lunch if her hostess pleases; and this ideal entertainment is _not_ afternoon tea; it is a _reception_. it is well enough indicated by the date on the card, and does not need a name. the abuse of the "afternoon tea" was that it took the place of other entertainments. it has almost ruined the early evening party, which was so pleasant a feature of the past. people who could well afford to give breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and balls, where men and women could meet each other, and talk, and know each other well, did not give them; they gave an afternoon tea. it may be because we have no "leisure class" that we do not give breakfasts. in all our anglomania it is strange that we have not copied that plain, informal thing, an english breakfast, such as sydney smith was wont to give. mr. webster writes home in : "in england the rule of politeness is to be quiet, act naturally, take no airs, and make no bustle. this perfect politeness has cost a great deal of drill." he delighted in the english breakfasts, where he met "boz," tom moore, wordsworth, rogers (who never gave any entertainment but breakfasts). we are all workers in america, yet we might have an occasional breakfast-party. dinners and ladies' lunches we know very well how to give, and there are plenty of them. perhaps the only objection to them is their oversumptuousness. the ideal dinners of the past at washington, with the old virginia hospitality, the oysters, terrapin, wild turkeys, venison, served by negro cooks and waiters, the hostess keeping the idea of agreeability before her, instead of caring principally for her china, her glass, and her table-cloth. these gave way long ago in new york to the greater luxury of the prosperous city, and if there was any loss, it was in the conversation. new york women have been forced into a life of overdressing, dancing, visiting, shopping, gaining the accomplishments, and showing them off, and leading the life of society at its height; the men have been overwhelmingly engaged in commerce, and later in wall street. no wonder that four o'clock was an hour at which both paused, and called for a "cup of tea." nor because the name has passed away-temporarily, perhaps--will the fashion pass. people will still gather around the steaming urn. young ladies find it a very pretty recreation to make the tea-table attractive with the floral arrangements, the basket of cake, the sandwiches, the silver tea-caddy, the alcohol lamp burning under the silver or copper kettle, the padded "cozy" to keep the tea warm, the long table around which young gentlemen and young ladies can sit, while mamma, patient american mamma--receives the elder people in the parlor. it is no longer the elderly lady who presides at the tea-kettle; the tabbies do not make or drink the teas; the younger pussies are the queens of four-o'clock tea. it is whispered that it is a convenient _alias_ for flirtation, or something even sweeter--that many engagements have been made at "four-o'clock teas." certainly it is a very good opportunity for showing one's tea-cups. the handsome china can be displayed at a four-o'clock tea, if it is not too large, to the best advantage. the very early assumption of a grand social entertainment under the name of "four-o'clock tea" rather blotted out one of the prettiest features of the english tea, that of the graceful garment the _tea gown_. tea gowns in france, under the _r�gime_ of worth, have become most luxurious garments. they are made of silk, satin, velvet, and lined with delicate surah. they are trimmed with real and imitation lace, and are of the most delicate shades of pink, blue, lavender, and pearl-color; cascades of lace extend down the front. in these, made loose to the figure, but still very elegant and most becoming, do the english princess, the duchess, and the continental coroneted or royal dame, or the queen of fashion, receive their guests at afternoon tea. no wonder that in each bridal trousseau do we read of the wonderful "tea gowns." in america ladies have been in the habit of always receiving in the tight-fitting and elegant combinations of silk, surah, brocade, velvet, and cashmere which fill the wardrobe of modern fashion. the dresses of delicate cashmere, so becoming to young girls, are always very much patronized for afternoon tea. indeed, the young lady dressed for afternoon tea was dressed for dinner. in this, as our american afternoon teas have been managed, the american young lady was right, for it is not _convenable_, according to european ideas, to wear a loose flowing robe of the tea-gown pattern out of one's bedroom or boudoir. it has been done by ignorant people at a watering-place, but it never looks well. it is really an undress, although lace and satin may be used in its composition. a plain, high, and tight-fitting g�arment is much the more elegant dress for the afternoon teas as we give them. call it what you will--reception, kettledrum, afternoon tea, or something without a name--we have unconsciously, imitating a very different sort of informal gathering, gained an easy and a sensible entertainment in society, from four to seven; which seems to address itself to all kinds of needs. we are prone in america (so foreigners say) to overdo a thing--perhaps, also, to underdo it. be that as it may, all agree with lord houghton, who laughed at the phrase, that we know how "to have a good time." chapter xxix. caudle and christening cups and ceremonies. we are asked by many young mammas as to the meaning of the phrase "caudle parties." formerly the persons who called to congratulate the happy possessor of a new boy or girl were offered mulled wine and plum-cake. some early chronicler thinks that the two got mixed, and that caudle was the result. certain it is that a most delicious beverage, a kind of oatmeal gruel, boiled "two days," with raisins and spices, and fine old madeira (some say rum) added, makes a dish fit to set before a king, and is offered now to the callers on a young mamma. the old english custom was to have this beverage served three days after the arrival of the little stranger. the caudle-cups, preserved in many an old family, are now eagerly sought after as curiosities; they have two handles, so they could be passed from one to another. they were handed down as heirlooms when these candle parties were more fashionable than they have been, until a recent date. now there is a decided idea of reintroducing them. in those days the newly-made papa also entertained his friends with a stag party, when bachelors and also benedicks were invited to eat buttered toast, which was sugared and spread in a mighty punch-bowl, over which boiling-hot beer was poured. after the punch-bowl was emptied, each guest placed a piece of money in the bowl for the nurse. strong ale was brewed, and a pipe of wine laid by to be drunk on the majority of the child. this greasy mess is fortunately now extinct, but the caudle, a really delicious dish or drink, is the fashion again. it is generally offered when master or miss is about six weeks old, and mamma receives her friends in a tea gown or some pretty convalescent wrap, very often made of velvet or plush cut in the form of a belted-in jacket and skirt, or in one long princesse robe, elaborately trimmed with cascades of lace down the front. the baby is, of course, shown, but not much handled. some parents have the christening and the caudle party together, but of this, it is said, the church does not approve. the selection of god-parents is always a delicate task. it is a very great compliment, of course, to ask any one to stand in this relation, highly regarded in england, but not so much thought of here. formerly there were always two godfathers and two godmothers, generally chosen from friends and relations, who were expected to watch over the religious education of the young child, and to see that he was, in due time, confirmed. in all old countries this relationship lasts through life; kindly help and counsel being given to the child by the godfather--even to adoption in many instances--should the parents die. but in our new country, with the absence of an established church, and with our belief in the power of every man to take care of himself, this beautiful relationship has been neglected. we are glad to see by our letters that it is being renewed, and that people are thinking more of these time-honored connections. after a birth, friends and acquaintances should call and send in their cards, or send them by their servants, with kind inquiries. when the mother is ready to see her friends, she should, if she wishes, signify that time by sending out cards for a "caudle party." but let her be rather deliberate about this unless she has a mother, or aunt, or sister to take all the trouble for her. the godfather and godmother generally give some little present; a silver cup or porringer, knife, fork, and spoon, silver basin, coral tooth-cutter, or coral and bells, were the former gifts; but, nowadays, we hear of one wealthy godfather who left a check for $ , in the baby's cradle; and it is not unusual for those who can do so to make some very valuable investment for the child, particularly if he bears the name of the godfather. some people--indeed, most people--take their children to church to be baptized, and then give a luncheon at home afterwards to which all are invited, especially the officiating clergyman and his wife, as well as the sponsors. the presents should be given at this time. old-fashioned people give the baby some salt and an egg for good luck, and are particular that he should be carried up-stairs before he is carried down, and that when he goes out first he shall be carried to the house of some near and dear relative. confirmation is in the episcopal church the sequel to baptism; and in france this is a beautiful and very important ceremony. in the month of may the streets are filled with white doves--young girls, all in muslin and lace veils, going with their mothers or chaperons to be confirmed. here the duty of the godfather or the godmother comes in; and if a child is an orphan, or has careless or irreligious parents, the church holds the godparent responsible that these children be brought to the bishop to be confirmed. notices of confirmation to be held are always given out in the various churches some weeks prior to the event; and persons desirous of being admitted to the rite are requested to make known their wish and to give their names to their clergyman. classes are formed, and instruction and preparation given during the weeks preceding the day which the bishop has appointed. in england a noble english lady is as much concerned for her goddaughter through all this important period as she is for her daughter. in france the obligation is also considered sacred. we have known of a lady who made the journey from montpellier to paris--although she could scarcely afford the expense--to attend the confirmation of her goddaughter, although the young girl had a father and mother. it is a ceremony well worth seeing, either in england or france. the girls walk in long processions through the streets; the dress uniformly of white with long veils. youths follow in black suits, black ties, and gloves; they enter one aisle of the church, the girls the other. when the time arrives for the laying on of hands, the girls go first, two and two; they give their card or certificate into the hands of the bishop's chaplain, who stands near to receive them. the candidates kneel before the bishop, who lays his hands severally on their heads. of course persons not belonging to the episcopal church do not observe this rite. but as a belief in baptism is almost universal, there is no reason why the godfather and godmother should not be chosen and adhered to. we always name our children, or we are apt to, for some dear friend; and we would all gladly believe that such a friendship, begun at the altar when he is being consecrated to a christian life, may go with him and be a help to the dear little man. in our belligerent independence and our freedom from creeds and cant we have thrown away too much, and can afford to reassert our belief in and respect for a few old customs. royalty has always been a respecter of these powers. king edward vi. and his sisters were each baptized when only three days old, and the ceremony, which lasted between two and three days, took place at night, by torch-light. the child was carried under a canopy, preceded by gentlemen bearing in state the sponsors' gifts, and attended by a flourish of trumpets. at a modern caudle party the invitations are sent out a week in advance, and read thus: _"mr. and mrs. brown request the pleasure of your company on tuesday afternoon, at three o'clock. west kent street. caudle. 'no presents are expected.'_" for the honor of being a godfather one receives a note in the first person, asking the friend to assume that kindly office, and also mentioning the fact that the name will be so and so. if the baby is named for the godfather, a very handsome present is usually made; if not, the godfather or godmother still sends some little token of regard. this, however, is entirely a matter of fancy. no one is obliged to give a present, of course. the baby at his christening is shown off in a splendid robe, very much belaced and embroidered, and it is to be feared that it is a day of disturbance for him. babies should not be too much excited; a quiet and humdrum existence, a not too showy nurse, and regular hours are conducive to a good constitution for these delicate visitors. the gay dresses and jingling ornaments of the roman nurses are now denounced by the foreign doctors as being too exciting to the little eyes that are looking out on a new world. they are very pretty and picturesque, and many a travelling mamma goes into a large outlay for these bright colors and for the peasant jewelry. the practice of making a child ride backward in a push-wagon is also sternly denounced by modern physicians. fashionable mammas who give caudle parties should remember that in our harsh climate maternity is beset by much feebleness as to nerves in both mother and child; therefore a long seclusion in the nursery is advised before the dangerous period of entertaining one's friends begins. let the caudle party wait, and the christening be done quietly in one's own bedroom, if the infant is feeble. show off the young stranger at a later date: an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. chapter xxx. the modern dinner-table. the appointments of the modern dinner-table strikingly indicate that growth of luxury of which the immediate past has been so fruitful. up to twenty years ago a dinner, even in the house of a merchant prince, was a plain affair. there was a white tablecloth of double damask; there were large, handsome napkins; there was a rich service of solid silver, and perhaps some good china. flowers, if used at all, were not in profusion; and as for glasses, only a few of plain white, or perhaps a green or a red one for claret or hock, were placed at the side of the plate. of course there were variations and exceptions to this rule, but they were few and far between. one man, or often one maid-servant, waited at the table; and, as a protection for the table-cloth, mats were used, implying the fear that the dish brought from the top of the kitchen-range, if set down, would leave a spot or stain. all was on a simple or economical plan. the grand dinners were served by caterers, who sent their men to wait at them, which led to the remark, often laughed at as showing english stupidity, made by the marquis of hartington when he visited new york at the time of our war. as he looked at old peter van dyck and his colored assistants, whom he had seen at every house at which he had dined, he remarked, "how much all your servants resemble each other in america!" it was really an unintentional sarcasm, but it might well have suggested to our _nouveaux riches_ the propriety of having their own trained servants to do the work of their houses instead of these outside men. a degree of elegance which we have not as a nation even yet attained is that of having a well-trained corps of domestic servants. a mistress of a house should be capable of teaching her servants the method of laying a table and attending it, if she has to take, as we commonly must, the uneducated irishman from his native bogs as a house-servant. if she employs the accomplished and well-recommended foreign servant, he is too apt to disarrange her establishment by disparaging the scale on which it is conducted, and to engender a spirit of discontent in her household. servants of a very high class, who can assume the entire management of affairs, are only possible to people of great wealth, and they become tyrants, and wholly detestable to the master and mistress after a short slavery. one new york butler lately refused to wash dishes, telling his mistress that it would ruin his finger-nails. but this man was a consummate servant, who laid the table and attended it, with an ease and grace that gave his mistress that pleasant feeling of certainty that all would go well, which is the most comfortable of all feelings to a hostess, and without which dinner-giving is annoyance beyond all words. the arrangement of a dinner-table and the waiting upon it are the most important of all the duties of a servant or servants, and any betrayal of ignorance, any nervousness or noise, any accident, are to be deplored, showing as they do want of experience and lack of training. no one wishes to invite his friends to be uncomfortable. those dreadful dinners which thackeray describes, at which people with small incomes tried to rival those of large means, will forever remain in the minds of his readers as among the most painful of all revelations of sham. we should be real first, and ornamental afterwards. in a wealthy family a butler and two footmen are employed, and it is their duty to work together in harmony, the butler having control. the two footmen lay the table, the butler looking on to see that it is properly done. the butler takes care of the wine, and stands behind his mistress's chair. where only one man is employed, the whole duty devolves upon him, and he has generally the assistance of the parlor-maid. where there is only a maid-servant, the mistress of the house must see that all necessary arrangements are made. the introduction of the extension-table into our long, narrow dining-rooms has led to the expulsion of the pretty round-table, which is of all others the most cheerful. the extension-table, however, is almost inevitable, and one of the ordinary size, with two leaves added, will seat twelve people. the public caterers say that every additional leaf gives room for four more people, but the hostess, in order to avoid crowding, would be wise if she tested this with her dining-room chairs. new york dinner-parties are often crowded, sixteen being sometimes asked when the table will only accommodate fourteen. this is a mistake, as heat and crowding should be avoided. in country houses, or in philadelphia, boston, washington, and other cities where the dining-rooms are ordinarily larger than those in a new york house, the danger of crowding, of heat, and want of ventilation, is more easily avoided; but in a gas-lighted, furnace-heated room in new york the sufferings of the diners-out are sometimes terrible. the arrangements for the dinner, whether the party be ten or twenty, should be the same. much has been said about the number to be invited, and there is an old saw that one should not invite "fewer than the graces nor more than the muses." this partiality to uneven numbers refers to the difficulty of seating a party of eight, in which case, if the host and hostess take the head and foot of the table, two gentlemen and two ladies will come together. but the number of the graces being three, no worse number than that could be selected for a dinner-party; and nine would be equally uncomfortable at an extension-table, as it would be necessary to seat three on one side and four on the other. ten is a good number for a small dinner, and easy to manage. one servant can wait on ten people, and do it well, if well-trained. twenty-four people often sit down at a modern dinner-table, and are well served by a butler and two men, though some luxurious dinner-givers have a man behind each chair. this, however, is ostentation. a lady, if she issue invitations for a dinner of ten or twenty, should do so a fortnight in advance, and should have her cards engraved thus: _mr. and mrs. james norman request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. john brown's company at dinner on thursday, february eighth, at seven o'clock._ these engraved forms, on note-paper, filled up with the necessary time and date, are very convenient and elegant, and should be answered by the fortunate recipient immediately, in the most formal manner, and the engagement should be scrupulously kept if accepted. if the subsequent illness or death of relatives, or any other cause, renders this impossible, the hostess should be immediately notified. a gentleman is never invited without his wife, nor a lady without her husband, unless great intimacy exists between the parties, and the sudden need of another guest makes the request imperative. the usual hour for dinner-parties in america is seven o'clock; but whatever the hour, the guests should take care to be punctual to the minute. in the hall the gentleman should find a card with his name, and that of the lady whom he is to take in, written on it, and also a small _boutonniere_, which he places in his button-hole. on entering the drawing-room the lady goes first, not taking her husband's arm. if the gentleman is not acquainted with the lady whom he is to take in to dinner, he asks his hostess to present him to her, and he endeavors to place himself on an agreeeble footing with her before they enter the dining-room. when the last guest has arrived, dinner is ready, and the butler makes his announcement. the host leads the way, with the lady to whom the dinner is given, and the hostess follows last, with the gentleman whom she wishes to honor. the people who enter a modern dining-room find a picture before them, which is the result of painstaking thought, taste, and experience, and, like all works of art, worthy of study. the first thought of the observer is, "what a splendid bit of color!" the open-work, white tablecloth lies on a red ground, and above it rests a mat of red velvet, embroidered with peacock's feathers and gold lace. above this stands a large silver salver or oblong tray, lined with reflecting glass, on which dresden swan and silver lilies seem floating in a veritable lake. in the middle of this long tray stands a lofty vase of silver or crystal, with flowers and fruit cunningly disposed in it, and around it are placed tropical vines. at each of the four corners of the table stand four ruby glass flagons set in gold, standards of beautiful and rare designs. cups or silver-gilt vases, with centres of cut glass, hold the bonbons and smaller fruits. four candelabra hold up red wax-candles with red shades, and flat, glass troughs, filled with flowers, stand opposite each place, grouped in a floral pattern. at each place, as the servant draws back the chair, the guest sees a bewildering number of glass goblets, wine and champagne glasses, several forks, knives, and spoons, and a majolica plate holding oysters on the half shell, with a bit of lemon in the centre of the plate. the napkin, deftly folded, holds a dinner-roll, which the guest immediately removes. the servants then, seeing all the guests seated, pass red and black pepper, in silver pepper-pots, on a silver tray. a small, peculiarly-shaped fork is laid by each plate, at the right hand, for the oysters. although some ladies now have all their forks laid on the left hand of the plate, this, however, is not usual. after the oysters are eaten, the plates are removed, and two kinds of soup are passed--a white and a brown soup. during this part of the dinner the guest has time to look at the beautiful queen anne silver, the handsome lamps, if lamps are used (we may mention the fact that about twenty-six candles will well light a dinner of sixteen persons), and the various colors of lamp and candle shades. then the beauty of the flowers, and, as the dinner goes on, the variety of the modern dresden china, the sevres, the royal worcester, and the old blue can be discussed and admired. the service is _ la russe_; that is, everything is handed by the servants. nothing is seen on the table except the wines (and only a few of these), the bonbons, and the fruit. no greasy dishes are allowed. each lady has a bouquet, possibly a painted reticule of silk filled with sugar-plums, and sometimes a pretty fan or ribbon with her name or monogram painted on it. at his right hand each guest finds a goblet of elegantly-engraved glass for water, two of the broad, flat, flaring shape of the modern champagne glass (although some people are using the long vase-like glass of the past for champagne), a beautiful bohemian green glass, apparently set with gems, for the hock, a ruby-red glass for the claret, two other large white claret or burgundy glasses, and three wine-glasses of cut or engraved glass. harlequin glasses, which give to the table the effect of a bed of tulips, are in fashion for those who delight in color and variety. the hostess may prefer the modern napery, so exquisitely embroidered in gold thread, which affords an opportunity to show the family coat of arms, or the heraldic animals--the lion and the two-headed eagle and the griffin--intertwined in graceful shapes around the whole edge of the table and on the napkins. as the dinner goes on the guest revels in unexpected surprises in the beauty of the plates, some of which look as if made of solid gold; and when the roman punch is served it comes in the heart of a red, red rose, or in the bosom of a swan, or the cup of a lily, or the "right little, tight little" life-saying boat. faience, china, glass, and ice are all pressed into the service of the roman punch, and sometimes the prettiest dish of all is hewn out of ice. we will try to see how all this picture is made, beginning at the laying of the table, the process of which we will explain in detail in the next chapter. chapter xxxi. laying the dinner-table. the table, after being drawn out to its proper length, should be covered with a cotton-flannel tablecloth--white, if the table-cover is the ordinary damask; red, if the open work table-cover is to be used. this broad cotton flannel can be bought for eighty cents a yard. the table-cloth, if of white damask, should be perfectly ironed, with one long fold down the middle, which must serve the butler for his mathematical centre. no one can be astray in using fine white damask. if a lady wishes to have the more rare russian embroidery, the gold embroidered on the open-work table-cloth, she can do so, but let her not put any cloth on her table _that will not wash_. the mixed-up things trimmed with velvet or satin or ribbon, which are occasionally seen on vulgar tables, are detestable. the butler then lays the red velvet carpet, or mat, or ornamental cover--whatever it may be called--down the centre of the table, to afford a relief of color to the _�pergne_. this is a mere fanciful adjunct, and may be used or not; but it has a very pretty effect over an openwork, white table-cloth, with the silver tray of the _�pergne_ resting upon it. in many families there are silver _�pergnes_ which are heirlooms. these are now valued for old association's sake; as are the silver candlesticks and silver _compotiers_. but where a family does not possess these table ornaments, a centre piece of glass is used. the flat basket of flowers, over which the guests could talk, has been discarded, and the ornaments of a dinner-table are apt to be high, including the lamps and candelabra which at present replace gas. the table-cloth being laid, the centre and side ornaments placed, the butler sees that each footman has a clean towel on his arm, and then proceeds to unlock the plate chest and the glass closet. measuring with his hand, from the edge of the table to the end of his middle finger, he places the first glass. this measurement is continued around the table, and secures a uniform line for the water goblet, and the claret, wine, hock, and champagne glasses, which are grouped about it. he then causes a plate to be put at each place, large enough to hold the majolica plate with the oysters, which will come later. one footman is detailed to fold the napkins, which should be large, thick, fine, and serviceable for this stage of the dinner. the napkins are not folded in any hotel device, but simply in a three-cornered pyramid that will stand holding the roll or bread. the knives, forks, and spoons, each of which is wiped by the footman with his clean towel, so that no dampness of his own hand shall mar their sparkling cleanliness, are then distributed. these should be all of silver; two knives, three forks, and a soup-spoon being the usual number laid at each plate. before each plate is placed a little salt-cellar, either of silver or china, in some fanciful shape. tiny wheelbarrows are much used. a _carafe_ holding water should be put on very late, and be fresh from the ice-chest. very thin glasses are now used for choice sherry and madeira, and are not put on until the latter part of the dinner, as they may be broken. menu-holders or card-holders of china or silver are often placed before each plate, to hold the card on which the name of the guest is printed and the bill of fare from which he is to choose. these may be dispensed with, however, and the menu and name laid on each plate. the butler now turns his attention to his sideboards and tables, from whence he is to draw his supplies. many people make a most ostentatious display of plate and china on their sideboards, and if one has pretty things why not show them? the poorer and more modest have, on their sideboards, simply the things which will be needed. but there should be a row of large forks, a row of large knives, a row of small ones, a row of table-spoons, sauce-ladles, dessert- spoons, fish-slice and fork, a few tumblers, rows of claret, sherry, and madeira glasses, and the reserve of dinner-plates. on another table or sideboard should be placed the finger-bowls and glass dessert-plates, the smaller spoons and coffee cups and saucers. on the table nearest the door should be the carving-knives and the first dinner-plates to be used. here the head footman or the butler divides the fish and carves the _piece de resistance_, the fillet of beef, the haunch of venison, the turkey, or the saddle of mutton. it is from this side-table that all the dinner should be served; if the dining-room is small, the table can be placed in the hall or adjacent pantry. as the fish is being served, the first footman should offer chablis, or some kind of white wine; with the soup, sherry; with the roast, claret and champagne, each guest being asked if he will have dry or sweet champagne. as the plates are removed they should not be kept in the dining- room, but sent to the kitchen immediately, a maid standing outside to receive them, so that no disorder of the dinner may reach the senses of the guests, nor even an unpleasant odor. as each plate is removed a fresh plate must be put in its place--generally a very beautiful piece of sevres, decorated with a landscape, flowers, or faces. sparkling wines, hock and champagne, are not decanted, but are kept in ice-pails, and opened as required. on the sideboard is placed the wine decanted for use, and poured out as needed; after the game has been handed, decanters of choice madeira and port are placed before the host, who sends them round to his guests. in england a very useful little piece of furniture, called a dinner- wagon, is in order. this is a series of open shelves, on which are placed the extra napkins or _serviettes_ to be used; for in england the first heavy napkin is taken away, and a more delicate one brought with the roman punch, with the game another, and with the ices still another. on this dinner-wagon are placed all the dessert- plates and the finger-glasses. on the plate which is to serve for the ice is a gold ice-spoon, and a silver dessert-knife and fork accompany the finger-bowl and glass plate. this dinner-wagon also holds the salad-bowl and spoon, of silver, the salad-plates, and the silver bread-basket, in which should be thin slices of brown bread- and-butter. a china dish in three compartments, with cheese and butter and biscuits to be passed with the salad, the extra sauces, the jellies for the meats, the relishes, the radishes and celery, the olives and the sifted sugar-all things needed as accessaries of the dinner-table-can be put on this dinner-wagon, or _�tagere_, as it is called in france. no table-spoons should be laid on the table, except those to be used for soup, as the style of serving _ la russe_ precludes their being needed; and the extra spoons, cruets, and casters are put on the sideboard. to wait on a large dinner-party the attendants average one to every three people, and when only a butler and one footman are kept, it is necessary to hire additional servants. previous to the announcement of the dinner, the footman places the soup-tureens and the soup-plates on the side-table. as soon as the oysters are eaten, and the plates removed, the butler begins with the soup, and sends it round by two footmen, one on each side, each carrying two plates. each footman should approach the guests on the left, so that the right hand may be used for taking the plate. half a ladleful of soup is quite enough to serve. some ladies never allow their butler to do anything but hand the wine, which he does at the _right_ hand (not the left), asking each person if he will have sauterne, dry or sweet champagne, claret, burgundy, and so on. but really clever butlers serve the soup, carve, and pour out the wine as well. an inexperienced servant should never serve the wine; it must be done briskly and neatly, not explosively or carelessly. the overfilling of the glass should be avoided, and servants should be watched, to see that they give champagne only to those who wish it, and that they do not overfill glasses for ladies, who rarely drink anything. a large plate-basket or two, for removing dishes and silver that have been used, are necessary, and should not be forgotten. the butler rings a bell which communicates with the kitchen when he requires anything, and after each _entr�e_ or course he thus gives the signal to the cook to send up another. hot dinner-plates are prepared when the fish is removed, and on these hot plates the butler serves all the meats; the guests are also served with hot plates before the _entr�es_, except _p t� de foie gras_, for which a cold plate is necessary. some discretion should be shown by the servant who passes the _entr�es_. a large table-spoon and fork should be placed on the dish, and the dish then held low, so that the guest may help himself easily, the servant standing at his left hand. he should always have a small napkin over his hand as he passes a dish. a napkin should also be wrapped around the champagne bottle, as it is often dripping with moisture from the ice-chest. it is the butler's duty to make the salad, which he should do about half an hour before dinner. there are now so many provocatives of appetite that it would seem as if we were all, after the manner of heliogabalus, determined to eat and die. the best of these is the roman punch, which, coming after the heavy roasts, prepares the palate and stomach for the canvas- back ducks or other game. then comes the salad and cheese, then the ices and sweets, and then _cheese savourie_ or _cheese fondu_. this is only toasted cheese, in a very elegant form, and is served in little silver shells, sometimes as early in the dinner as just after the oysters, but the favorite time is after the sweets. the dessert is followed by the _liqueurs_, which should be poured into very small glasses, and handed by the butler on a small silver waiter. when the ices are removed, a dessert-plate of glass, with a finger-bowl, is placed before each person, with two glasses, one for sherry, the other for claret or burgundy, and the grapes, peaches, pears, and other fruits are then passed. after the fruits go round, the sugar-plums and a little dried ginger--a very pleasant conserve --are passed before the coffee. the hostess makes the sign for retiring, and the dinner breaks up. the gentlemen are left to wine and cigars, _liqueurs_ and cognac, and the ladies retire to the drawing-room to chat and take their coffee. in the selection of the floral decoration for the table the lady of the house has the final voice. flowers which have a very heavy fragrance should not be used. that roses and pinks, violets and lilacs, are suitable, goes without saying, for they are always delightful; but the heavy tropical odors of jasmine, orange-blossom, hyacinth, and tuberose should be avoided. a very pretty decoration is obtained by using flowers of one color, such as jacqueminot roses, or scarlet carnations, which, if placed in the gleaming crystal glass, produce a very brilliant and beautiful effect. flowers should not be put on the table until just before dinner is served, as they are apt to be wilted by the heat and the lights. we have used the english term footman to indicate what is usually called a waiter in this country. a waiter in england is a hired hotel-hand, not a private servant. much taste and ingenuity are expended on the selection of favors for ladies, and these pretty fancies--_bonbonnieres_, painted ribbons and reticules, and fans covered with flowers--add greatly to the elegance and luxury of our modern dinner-table. a less reasonable conceit is that of having toys--such as imitation musical instruments, crackers which make an unpleasant detonation, imitations of negro minstrels, balloons, flags, and pasteboard lobsters, toads, and insects--presented to each lady. these articles are neither tasteful nor amusing, and have "no excuse for being" except that they afford an opportunity for the expenditure of more money. chapter xxxii. favors and bonbonnieres. truly "the world is very young for its age." we are never too old to admire a pretty favor or a tasteful _bonbonniere_; and, looking back over the season, we remember, as among the most charming of the favors, those with flowers painted upon silken banners, with the owner's name intertwined. the technical difficulties of painting upon silk are somewhat conquered, one would think, in looking at the endless devices composed of satin and painted flowers on the lunch- tables. little boxes covered with silk, in eight and six sided forms, with panels let in, on which are painted acorns and oak leaves, rosebuds or lilies, and always the name or the cipher of the recipient, are very pretty. the easter-egg has long been a favorite offering in silk, satin, plush, and velvet, in covered, egg-shaped boxes containing bonbons; these, laid in a nest of gold and silver threads in a _cloisonn�_ basket, afford a very pretty souvenir to carry home from a luncheon. menu-holders of delicate gilt-work are also added to the other favors. these pretty little things sometimes uphold a photograph, or a porcelain plate on which is painted the lady's name, and also a few flowers. the little porcelain cards are not larger than a visiting-card, and are often very artistic. the famous and familiar horseshoe, in silver or silver-gilt, holding up the menu-card, is another pretty favor, and a very nice one to carry home, as it becomes a penholder when it is put on the writing-table. wire rests, shaped like those used for muskets in barracks yards, are also used for the name and menu-cards. plateaus, shells, baskets, figurettes, vases holding flowers, dolphins, tritons, swan, sea animals (in crockery), roses which open and disclose the sugarplums, sprays of coral, and gilt conch-shells, are all pretty, especially when filled with flowers. baskets in various styles are often seen. one tied with a broad ribbon at the side is very useful as a work-basket afterwards. open-work baskets, lined with crimson or scarlet or pink or blue plush, with another lining of silver paper to protect the plums, are very tasteful. a very pretty basket is one hung between three gilt handles or poles, and filled with flowers or candies. silvered and gilded beetles, or butterflies, fastened on the outside, have a fanciful effect. moss-covered trays holding dried grasses and straw, and piles of chocolates that suggest ammunition, are decorative and effective. wheelbarrows of tiny size for flowers are a favorite conceit. they are made of straw-work, entirely gilded, or painted black or brown, and picked out with gold; or perhaps pale green, with a bordering of brown. a very pretty one may be made of old cigarbox wood; on one side a monogram painted in red and gold, on the other a spray of autumn leaves. carved-wood barrows fitted with tin inside may hold a growing plant--stephanotis, hyacinths, ferns, ivy, or any other hardy plant--and are very pleasing souvenirs. the designs for reticules and _ch�telaines_ are endless. at a very expensive luncheon, to which twenty-four ladies sat down, a silk reticule a foot square, filled with maillard's confections and decorated with an exquisitely painted landscape effect, was presented to each guest. these lovely reticules may be any shape, and composed of almost any material. a very handsome style is an eight-sided, melon-shaped bag of black satin, with a decoration of bunches of scarlet flowers painted or embroidered. silk braided with gold, brocade, and plush combined, and turkish towelling with an _applique�_ of brilliant color, are all suitable and effective. in the winter a shaded satin muff, in which was hidden a _bonbonniere_, was the present that made glad the hearts of twenty- eight ladies. these are easily made in the house, and a plush muff with a bird's head is a favorite "favor." a pair of bellows is a pretty and inexpensive _bonbonniere_. they can be bought at the confectioner's, and are more satisfactory than when made at home; but if one is ingenious, it is possible, with a little pasteboard, gilt paper, silk, and glue, to turn out a very pretty little knickknack of this kind. however, the french do these things so much better than we do that a lady giving a lunch-party had better buy all her favors at some wholesale place. there is a real economy in buying such articles at the wholesale stores, for the retail dealers double the price. bronze, iron, and glass are all pressed into the service, and occasionally we have at a lunch a whole military armament of cannon, muskets, swords, bronze helmets, whole suits of armor, tazza for jewellery, miniature cases, inkstands, and powder-boxes, all to hold a few sugar-plums. at a christening party all the favors savor of the nursery--splendid cradles of flowers, a bassinet of brilliante trimmed with ribbons for a _bonbonniere_, powder-boxes, puffs, little socks filled with sugar instead of little feet, an infant's cloak standing on end (really over pasteboard), an infant's hood, and even the flannel shirt has been copied. of course the baptismal dish and silver cup are easily imitated. perfumery is introduced in little cut-glass bottles, in leaden tubes like paint tubes, in perfumed artificial flowers, in _sachets_ of powder, and in the handles of fans. boxes of satinwood, small wood covers for music and blotting cases, painted by hand, are rather pretty favors. the plain boxes and book covers can be bought and ornamented by the young artists of the family. nothing is prettier than an owl sitting on an ivy vine for one of these. the owl, indeed, plays a very conspicuous part at the modern dinner-table and luncheon. his power of looking wise and being foolish at the same time fits him for modern society. he enters it as a pepper-caster, a feathered _bonbonniere_, a pickle- holder (in china), and is drawn, painted, and photographed in every style. a pun is made on his name: "should owled acquaintance be forgot?" etc. he is a favorite in jewellery, and is often carved in jade. indeed, the owl is having his day, having had the night always to himself. the squirrel, the dog, "the frog that would a-wooing go," the white duck, the pig, and the mouse, are all represented in china, and in the various silks and gauzes of french taste, or in their native skins, or in any of the disguises that people may fancy. bears with ragged staffs stand guard over a plate of modern faience, as they do over the gates of warwick castle. cats mewing, catching mice, playing on the jews-harp, elephants full of choicest confectionery, lions and tigers with chocolate insides, and even the marked face and long hair of oscar wilde, the last holding within its ample cranium caraway-seeds instead of brains, played their part as favors. the green enamelled dragon-fly, grasshoppers and beetles, flies and wasps, moths and butterflies, bright-tinted mandarin ducks, peacocks, and ostriches, tortoises cut in pebbles or made of pasteboard, shrimps and crabs, do all coldly furnish forth the lunch-table as favors and _bonbonnieres_. then come plaster or pasteboard gondolas, skiffs, wherries, steamships, and ferry-boats, all made with wondrous skill and freighted with caramels. imitation rackets, battledoor and shuttlecock, hoops and sticks, castanets, cup and ball, tambourines, guitars, violins, hand-organs, banjos, and drums, all have their little day as fashionable favors. little statuettes of kate greenaway's quaint children now appear as favors, and are very charming. nor is that "flexible curtain," the fan, left out. those of paper, pretty but not expensive, are very common favors. but the opulent offer pretty satin fans painted with the recipient's monogram, or else a fan which will match flowers and dress. fans of lace, and of tortoise-shell and carved ivory and sandal-wood, are sometimes presented, but they are too ostentatious. let us say to the givers of feasts, be not too magnificent, but if you give a fan, give one that is good for something, not a thing which breaks with the "first fall." a very pretty set of favors, called "fairies," are little groups of children painted on muslin, with a background of ribbon. the muslin is so thin that the children seem floating on air. the lady's name is also painted on the ribbon. we find that favors for gentlemen, such as sunflowers, pin-cushions, small purses, scarf-pins, and sleeve-buttons, are more useful than those bestowed upon ladies, but not so ornamental. very pretty baskets, called _huits_ (the baskets used by the vine- growers to carry earth for the roots of the vines), are made of straw ornamented with artificial flowers and grasses, and filled with bonbons. little leghorn hats trimmed with pompons of muslin, blue, pink, or white, are filled with natural flowers and hung on the arm. these are a lovely variation. fruits--the apple, pear, orange, and plum, delightfully realistic-- are made of composition, and open to disclose most unexpected seeds. at trowel, a knife, fork, and spoon, of artistically painted wood, and a pair of oars, all claim a passing notice as artistic novelties. bags of plush, and silk embroidered with daisies, are very handsome and expensive favors; heavily trimmed with lace, they cost four dollars apiece, but are sold a little cheaper by the dozen. blue sashes, with flowers painted on paper (and attached to the sash a paper on which may be written the menu), cost eighteen dollars a dozen. a dish of snails, fearfully realistic, can be bought for one dollar a plate, fruits for eighteen dollars a dozen, and fans anywhere from twelve up to a hundred dollars a dozen. a thousand dollars is not an unusual price for a luncheon, including flowers and favors, for eighteen to twenty-four guests. indeed, a luncheon was given last winter for which the hostess offered a prize for copies in miniature of the musical instruments used in "patience." they were furnished to her for three hundred dollars. the names of these now almost obsolete instruments were rappaka, tibia, archlute, tambour, kiffar, quinteme, rebel, tuckin, archviola, lyre, serpentine, chluy, viola da gamba, balalaika, gong, ravanastron, monochord, shopkar. the "archlute" is the mandolin. they represented all countries, and were delicate specimens of toy handiwork. we have not entered into the vast field of glass, china, porcelain, _cloisonn�_, dresden, faience jugs, boxes, plates, bottles, and vases, which are all used as favors. indeed, it would be impossible to describe half of the fancies which minister to modern extravagance. the _bonbonniere_ can cost anything, from five to five hundred dollars; fifty dollars for a satin box filled with candy is not an uncommon price. sometimes, when the box is of oxidized silver--a quaint copy of the antique from benvenuto cellini--this price is not too much; but when it is a thing which tarnishes in a month, it seems ridiculously extravagant. we have seen very pretty and artistic cheap favors. reticules made of bright cotton, or silk handkerchiefs with borders; cards painted by the artists of the family; palm-leaf fans covered with real flowers, or painted with imitation ones; sunflowers made of pasteboard, with portfolios behind them; pretty little parasols of flowers; little red riding-hood, officiating as a receptacle for stray pennies; japanese teapots, with the "cozy" made at home; little doyleys wrought with delightful designs from "pretty peggy," and numberless other graceful and charming trifles. chapter xxxiii. dinner-table novelties. one would think that modern luxury had reached its ultimatum in the delicate refinements of dinner-giving, but each dinner-table reveals the fact that this is an inexhaustible subject. the floral world is capable of an infinity of surprises, and the last one is a cameo of flowers on a door, shaped like a four-leaved clover. the guests are thus assured of good-luck. the horseshoe having been so much used that it is now almost obsolete, except in jewelry, the clover-leaf has come in. a very beautiful dinner far up fifth avenue had this winter an entirely new idea, inasmuch as the flowers were put overhead. the delicate vine, resembling green asparagus in its fragility, was suspended from the chandelier to the four corners of the room, and on it were hung delicate roses, lilies-of-the-valley, pinks, and fragrant jasmine, which sent down their odors, and occasionally dropped themselves into a lady's lap. this is an exquisite bit of luxury. then the arrival, two months before easter, of the fragrant, beautiful easter lilies has added a magnificent and stately effect to the central bouquets. it has been found that the island of bermuda is a great reservoir of these bulbs, which are sent up, like their unfragrant rivals the onions, by the barrelful. even a piece of a bulb will produce from three to five lilies, so that these fine flowers are more cheap and plenty in january than usually in april. a dining-room, square in shape, hung with richly-embroidered, old- gold tapestry, with a round table set for twenty, with silver and glass and a great bunch of lilies and green ferns in the middle, and a "crazy quilt" of flowers over one's head, may well reproduce the sense of dreamland which modern luxury is trying to follow. truly we live in the days of aladdin. six weeks after the ground was broken in secretary whitney's garden in washington for his ballroom, the company assembled in a magnificent apartment with fluted gold- ceiling and crimson brocade hangings, bronzes, statues, and dresden candlesticks, and a large wood fire at one end, in which logs six feet long were burning--all looking as if it were part of an old baronial castle of the middle ages. the florists will furnish you red clovers in january if you give your order in october. great bunches of flowers, of a pure scarlet unmixed with any other color, are very fashionable, and the effect in a softly-lighted room is most startling and beautiful. the lighting of rooms by means of lamps and candles is giving hostesses great annoyance. there is scarcely a dinner-party but the candles set fire to their fringed shades, and a conflagration ensues. then the new lamps, which give such a resplendent light, have been known to melt the metal about the wick, and the consequences have been disastrous. the next move will probably be the dipping of the paper in some asbestos or other anti-inflammable substance, so that there will be no danger of fire at the dinner- table. the screens put over the candles should not have this paper- fringe; it is very dangerous. but if a candle screen takes fire, have the coolness to let it burn itself up without touching it, as thus it will be entirely innocuous, although rather appalling to look at. move a plate under it to catch the flying fragments, and no harm will be done; but a well-intentioned effort to blow it out or to remove it generally results in a very much more wide-spread conflagration. china and glass go on improving; and there are jewelled goblets and centre-pieces of yellow glass covered with gold and what looks like jewels. knives and forks are now to be had with crystal handles set in silver, very ornamental and clean-looking; these come from bohemia. the endless succession of beautiful plates are more and more japanese in tone. satsuma vases and jugs are often sent to a lady, full of beautiful roses, thus making a lasting souvenir of what would be a perishable gift. these satsuma jugs are excellent things in which to plant hyacinths, and they look well in the centre of the dinner-table with these flowers growing in them. faded flowers can be entirely restored to freshness by clipping the stems and putting them in very hot water; then set them away from the gas and furnace heat, and they come on the dinner-table fresh for several days after their disappearance in disgrace as faded or jaded bouquets. flowers thus restored have been put in a cold library, where the water, once hot, has frozen stiff, and yet have borne these two extremes of temperature without loss of beauty--in fact, have lasted presentably from monday morning to saturday night. what flowers cannot stand is the air we all live in--at what cost to our freshness we find out in the spring--the overheated furnace and gas-laden air of the modern dining-room. the secret of the hot-water treatment is said to be this: the sap is sent up into the flower instead of lingering in the stems. roses respond to this treatment wonderfully. the fashion of wearing low-necked dresses at dinner has become so pronounced that the moralists begin to issue weekly essays against this revival as if it had never been done before. our virtuous grandmothers would be astonished to hear that their ball-dresses (never cut high) were so immoral and indecent. the fact remains that a sleeveless gown, cut in a pompadour form, is far more of a revelation of figure than a low-necked dinner-dress properly made. there is no line of the figure so dear to the artist as that one revealed from the nape of the neck to the shoulder. a beautiful back is the delight of the sculptor. no lady who understands the fine-art of dress would ever have her gown cut too low: it is ugly, besides being immodest. the persons who bring discredit on fashion are those who misinterpret it. the truly artistic modiste cuts a low-necked dress to reveal the fine lines of the back, but it is never in france cut too low in front. the excessive heat of an american dining-room makes this dress very much more comfortable than the high dresses which were brought in several years ago, because a princess had a goitre which she wished to disguise: no fulminations against fashion have ever effected reforms. we must take fashion as we find it, and strive to mould dress to our own style, not slavishly adhering to, but respectfully following, the reigning mode, remembering that all writings and edicts against this sub-ruler of the world are like sunbeams falling on a stone wall. the sunbeams vanish, but the stone wall remains. the modern married belle at a dinner is apt to be dressed in white, with much crystal trimming, with feathers in her hair, and with diamonds on her neck and arms, and a pair of long, brown swedish gloves drawn up to her shoulders; a feather fan of ostrich feathers hangs at her side by a ribbon or a chain of diamonds and pearls. the long, brown swedish gloves are an anomaly; they do not suit the rest of this exquisite dress, but fashion decrees that they shall be worn, and therefore they are worn. the fine, stately fashion of wearing feathers in the hair has returned, and it is becoming to middle-aged women. it gives them a queenly air. young girls look better for the simplest head-gear; they wear their hair high or low as they consider becoming. monstrous and inconvenient bouquets are again the fashion, and a very ugly fashion it is. a lady does not know what to do with her two or three bouquets at a musicale or a dinner, so they are laid away on a table. the only thing that can be done is to sit after dinner with them in her lap, and the _prima donna_ at a musicale lays hers on the grand piano. more and more is it becoming the fashion to have music at the end of a dinner in the drawing-room, instead of having it played during dinner. elocutionists are asked in to amuse the guests, who, having been fed on terrapin and canvas-back ducks, are not supposed to be in a talking mood. this may be overdone. many people like to talk after dinner with the people who are thus accidentally brought together; for in our large cities the company assembled about a dinner-table are very often fresh acquaintances who like to improve that opportunity to know each other better. we have spoken of the dress of ladies, which, if we were to pursue, would lead us into all the details of velvet, satin, and brocade, and would be a departure from our subject; let us therefore glance at the gentlemen at a modern, most modern, dinner. the vests are cut very low, and exhibit a piqu� embroidered shirt front held by one stud, generally a cat's-eye; however, three studs are permissible. white plain-pleated linen, with enamel studs resembling linen, is also very fashionable. a few young men, sometimes called dudes--no one knows why--wear pink coral studs or pearls, generally black pearls. elderly gentlemen content themselves with plain-pleated shirt-fronts and white ties, indulging even in wearing their watches in the old way, as fashion has reintroduced the short vest-chain so long banished. it is pleasant to see the old-fashioned gold chain for the neck reappearing. it always had a pretty effect, and is now much worn to support the locket, cross, or medallion portrait which ladies wear after the louis quinze fashion. gold is more becoming to dark complexions than pearls, and many ladies hail this return to gold necklaces with much delight. gentlemen now wear pearl-colored gloves embroidered in black to dinners, and do not remove them until they sit down to table. seal rings for the third finger are replacing the sunken jewels in dead gold which have been so fashionable for several years for gentlemen. all the ornamentation of the dinner-table is high this winter--high candlesticks, high vases, high glasses for the flowers, and tall glass compotiers. salt-cellars are looking up; and a favorite device is a silver vase, about two inches high, with a shell for salt. silver and silver-gilt dishes, having been banished for five years, are now reasserting their pre-eminent fitness for the modern dinner- table. people grew tired of silver, and banished it to the plate- chest. now all the old pieces are being burnished up and reappearing; and happy the hostess who has some real old queen anne. as the silver dollar loses caste, the silver soup tureen, or, as the french say, the _soupiere_ (and it is a good word), rises in fashion, and the teapot of our grandmothers resumes its honored place. chapter xxxiv. summer dinners. there is a season when the lingerers in town accept with pleasure an invitation to the neighboring country house, where the lucky suburban cit likes to entertain his friends. it is to be doubted, however, whether hospitality is an unmixed pleasure to those who extend it. with each blessing of prosperity comes an attendant evil, and a lady who has a country house has always to face the fact that her servants are apt to decamp in a body on saturday night, and leave her to take care of her guests as best she may. the nearer to town the greater the necessity for running a servant's omnibus, which shall take the departing offender to the train, and speed the arrival of her successor. no lady should attempt to entertain in the country who has not a good cook and a very competent waiter or waitress. the latter, if well trained, is in every respect as good as a man, and in some respects more desirable; women-servants are usually quiet, neater than men-servants, as a rule, and require less waiting upon. both men and women should be required to wear shoes that do not creak, and to be immaculately neat in their attire. maid-servants should always wear caps and white aprons, and men dress-coats, white cravats, and perfectly fresh linen. as the dinners of the opulent, who have butler, waiters, french cook, etc., are quite able to take care of themselves, we prefer to answer the inquiries of those of our correspondents who live in a simple manner, with two or three servants, and who wish to entertain with hospitality and without great expense. the dining-room of many country houses is small, and not cheerfully furnished. the houses built recently are improved in this respect, however, and now we will imagine a large room that has a pretty outlook on the hudson, carpeted with fragrant matting, or with a hard-wood floor, on which lie india rugs. the table should be oval, as that shape brings guests near to each other. the table-cloth should be of white damask, and as fresh as sweet clover, for dinner: colored cloths are permissible only for breakfast and tea. the chairs should be easy, with high, slanting backs. for summer, cane chairs are much the most comfortable, although those covered with leather are very nice. some people prefer arm-chairs at dinner, but the arms are inconvenient to many, and, besides, take a great deal of room. the armless dinner-chairs are the best. now, as a dinner in the country generally occurs after the gentlemen come from town, the matter of light has to be considered. if our late brilliant sunsets do not supply enough, how shall we light our summer dinners? few country houses have gas. even if they have, it would be very hot, and attract mosquitoes. candles are very pretty, but exceedingly troublesome. the wind blows the flame to and fro; the insects flutter into the light; an unhappy moth seats himself on the wick, and burning into an unsightly cadaver makes a gutter down one side; the little red-paper shades take fire, and there is a general conflagration. yet light is positively necessary to digestion, and no party can be cheerful without it. therefore, try carcel or moderator lamps with pretty transparent shades, or a hanging lamp with ground-glass shade. these lamps, filled with kerosene--and it must be done neatly, so that it will not smell--are the best lamps for the country dinner. if possible, however, have a country dinner by the light of day; it is much more cheerful. now for the ornamentation of the dinner. let it be of flowers--wild ones, if possible, grasses, clovers, buttercups, and a few fragrant roses or garden flowers. there is no end to the cheap decorative china articles that are sold now for the use of flowers. a contemporary mentions orchids placed in baskets on the shoulders of arcadian peasants; lilies-of-the-valley, with leaves as pale as their flowers, wheeled in barrows by cupids or set in china slippers; crocuses grown in a china pot shaped like a thumbed copy of victor hugo's "notre dame de paris;" or white tulips in a cluster of three gilt _sabots_, large enough to form a capital flower-stand, mounted on gilt, rustic branches. stout pitchers, glass bowls, china bowls, and even old teapots, make pretty bouquet-holders. the greek vase, the classic-shaped, old-fashioned champagne glass, are, however, unrivalled for the light grasses, field daisies, and fresh garden flowers. pretty, modern english china, the cheap "old blue," the white and gold, or the french, with a colored border, are all good enough for a country dinner; for if people have two houses, they do not like to take their fragile, expensive china to the country. prettily-shaped tureens and vegetable dishes add very much to the comfort and happiness of the diners, and fortunately they are cheap and easily obtained. glass should always be thin and fine, and tea and coffee cups delicate to the lip: avoid the thick crockery of a hotel. for a country dinner the table should be set near a window, or windows, if possible; in fine weather, in the hall or on the wide veranda. if the veranda have long windows, the servant can pass in and out easily. there should be a side-board and a side, table, relays of knives, forks and spoons, dishes and glasses not in use, and a table from which the servant can help the soup and carve the joint, as on a hot day no one wishes to see these two dishes on the table. a maid-servant should be taught by her mistress how to carve, in order to save time and trouble. soup for a country dinner should be clear bouillon, with macaroni and cheese, _creme d'asperge_, or julienne, which has in it all the vegetables of the season. heavy mock-turtle, bean soup, or ox-tail are not in order for a country dinner. if the lady of the house have a talent for cookery, she should have her soups made the day before, all the grease removed when the stock is cold, and season them herself. it is better in a country house to have some cold dish that will serve as a resource if the cook should leave. melton veal, which can be prepared on monday and which will last until saturday, is an excellent stand-by; and a cold boiled or roast ham should always be on the side-board. a hungry man can make a comfortable dinner of cold ham and a baked potato. every country householder should try to have a vegetable garden, for pease, beans, young turnips, and salads fresh gathered are very superior to those which even the best grocer furnishes. and of all the luxuries of a country dinner the fresh vegetables are the greatest. especially does the tired citizen, fed on the esculents of the corner grocery, delight in the green pease, the crisp lettuce, the undefiled strawberries. one old epicure of new york asks of his country friends only a piece of boiled salt pork with vegetables, a potato salad, some cheese, five large strawberries, and a cup of coffee. the large family of salads help to make the country dinner delightful. given a clear beef soup, a slice of fresh-boiled salmon, a bit of spring lamb with mint sauce, some green pease and fresh potatoes, a salad of lettuce, or sliced tomatoes, or potatoes with a bit of onion, and you have a dinner fit for a brillat-savarin; or vary it with a pair of boiled chickens, and a _jardiniere_ made of all the pease, beans, potatoes, cauliflower, fresh beets, of the day before, simply treated to a bath of vinegar and oil and pepper and salt. the lady who has conquered the salad question may laugh at the caprices of cooks, and defy the hour at which the train leaves. what so good as an egg salad for a hungry company? boil the eggs hard and slice them, cover with a _mayonnaise_ dressing, and put a few lettuce leaves about the plate, and you have a sustaining meal. many families have cold meats and warm vegetables for their midday dinner during the summer. this is not healthy. let all the dinner be cold if the meats are; and a dinner of cold roast beef, of salad, and cold asparagus, dressed with pepper, oil, and vinegar, is not a bad meal. it is better for almost everybody, however, to eat a hot dinner, even in hot weather, as the digestion is aided by the friendly power of the caloric. indeed dyspepsia, almost universal with americans, is attributed to the habit which prevails in this country above all others of drinking ice-water. _carafes_ of ice-water, a silver dish for ice, and a pair of ice- tongs, should be put on the table for a summer dinner. for desserts there is an almost endless succession, and with cream in her dairy, and a patent ice-cream freezer in her _cuisine_, the house-keeper need not lack delicate and delicious dishes of berries and fruits. no hot puddings should be served, or heavy pies; but the fruit tart is an excellent sweet, and should be made _ ravir_; the pastry should melt in the mouth, and the fruit be stewed with a great deal of sugar. cream should be put on the table in large glass pitchers, for it is a great luxury of the country and of the summer season. the cold custards, charlotte-russe, and creams stiffened with gelatine and delicately flavored, are very nice for a summer dinner. so is home-made cake, when well made: this, indeed, is always its only "excuse for being." stewed fruit is a favorite dessert in england, and the gooseberry, which here is but little used, is much liked there. americans prefer to eat fruit fresh, and therefore have not learned to stew it. stewing is, however, a branch of cookery well worth the attention of a first-class house-keeper. it makes even the canned abominations better, and the california canned apricot stewed with sugar is one of the most delightful of sweets, and very wholesome; canned peaches stewed with sugar lose the taste of tin, which sets the teeth on edge, and stewed currants are delicious. every house-keeper should learn to cook macaroni well. it is worth while to spend an hour at martinelli's, for this italian staple is economical, and extremely palatable if properly prepared. rice, too, should have a place in a summer bill of fare, as an occasional substitute for potatoes, which some people cannot eat. for summer dinners there should never be anything on the table when the guests sit down but the flowers and the dessert, the ice- pitchers or _carafes_, and bowls of ice, the glass, china, and silver: the last three should all be simple, and not profuse. many families now, fearing burglars, use only plated spoons, knives, forks, and dishes at their country houses. modern plate is so very good that there is less objection to this than formerly; but the genuine house-keeper loves the real silver spoons and forks, and prefers to use them. the ostentatious display of silver, however, is bad taste at a country dinner. glass dishes are much more elegant and appropriate, and quite expensive enough to bear the title of luxuries. avoid all greasy and heavy dishes. good roast beef, mutton, lamb, veal, chickens, and fresh fish are always in order, for the system craves the support of these solids in summer as well as in winter; but do not offer pork, unless in the most delicate form, and then in small quantities. fried salt pork, if not too fat, is always a pleasant addition to the broiled bird. broiled fish, broiled chicken, broiled ham, broiled steaks and chops, are always satisfactory. the grid-iron made st. lawrence fit for heaven, and its qualities have been elevating and refining ever since. nothing can be less healthy or less agreeable to the taste at a summer dinner than fried food. the frying-pan should have been thrown into the fire long ago, and burned up. the house-keeper living near the sea has an ample store to choose from in the toothsome crab, clam, lobster, and other crustacea. the fresh fish, the roast clams, etc., take the place of the devilled kidneys and broiled bones of the winter. but every housewife should study the markets of her neighborhood. in many rural districts the butchers give away, or throw to the dogs, sweetbreads and other morsels which are the very essence of luxury. calf's head is rejected by the rural buyer, and a frenchman who had the _physiologie du go�t_ at his finger-ends, declared that in a country place, not five miles from new york, he gave luxurious dinners on what the butcher threw away. chapter xxxv. luncheons, informal and social. the informal lunch is perhaps less understood in this country than in any other, because it is rarely necessary. in the country it is called early dinner, children's dinner, or ladies' dinner; in the city, when the gentlemen are all down town, then blossoms out the elaborate ladies' lunch. but in england, at a country house, and indeed in london, luncheon is a recognized and very delightful meal, at which the most distinguished men and women meet over a joint and a cherry tart, and talk and laugh for an hour without the restraint of the late and formal dinner. it occupies a prominent place in the history of hospitality, and lord houghton, among others, was famous for his unceremonious lunches. as it is understood to be an informal meal, the invitations are generally sent only a short time before the day for which the recipient is invited, and are written in the first person. lord houghton's were apt to be simply, "come and lunch with me to-morrow." at our prominent places of summer resort, ladies who have houses of their own generally give their male friends a _carte blanche_ invitation to luncheon. they are expected to avail themselves of it without ceremony, and at newport the table is always laid with the "extra knife and fork," or two or three, as may be thought necessary. ladies, however, should be definitely asked to this meal as to others. it is a very convenient meal, as it permits of an irregular number, of a superfluity of ladies or gentlemen; it is chatty and easy, and is neither troublesome nor expensive. the hour of luncheon is stated, but severe punctuality is not insisted upon. a guest who is told that he may drop in at half-past one o'clock every day will be forgiven if he comes as late as two. ladies may come in their hats or bonnets; gentlemen in lawn-tennis suits, if they wish. it is incumbent upon the hostess but not upon the host to be present. it is quite immaterial where the guests sit, and they go in separately, not arm-in-arm. either white or colored table-cloths are equally proper, and some people use the bare mahogany, but this is unusual. the most convenient and easy-going luncheons are served from the buffet or side-table, and the guests help themselves to cold ham, tongue, roast beef, etc. the fruit and wine and bread should stand on the table. each chair has in front of it two plates, a napkin with bread, two knives, two forks and spoons, a small salt-cellar, and three glasses--a tumbler for water, a claret glass, and a sherry glass. bouillon is sometimes offered in summer, but not often. if served well, it should be in cups. dishes of dressed salad, a cold fowl, game, or hot chops, can be put before the hostess or passed by the servant. soup and fish are never offered at these luncheons. some people prefer a hot lunch, and chops, birds on toast, or a beefsteak, with mashed potatoes, asparagus, or green pease, are suitable dishes. it is proper at a country place to offer a full luncheon, or to have a cold joint on the sideboard; and after the more serious part of the luncheon has been removed, the hostess can dismiss the servants, and serve the ice-cream or tart herself, with the assistance of her guests. clean plates, knives, and forks should be in readiness. in england a "hot joint" is always served from the sideboard. in fact, an english luncheon is exactly what a plain american dinner was formerly--a roast of mutton or beef, a few vegetables, a tart, some fruit, and a glass of sherry. but we have changed the practice considerably, and now our luxurious country offers nothing plain. in this country one waiter generally remains during the whole meal, and serves the table as he would at dinner--only with less ceremony. it is perfectly proper at luncheon for any one to rise and help himself to what he wishes. tea and coffee are never served after luncheon in the drawing-room or dining-room. people are not expected to remain long after luncheon, as the lady of the house may have engagements for the afternoon. in many houses the butler arranges the luncheon, table with flowers or fruit, plates of thin bread-and butter, jellies, creams, cakes, and preserves, a dish of cold salmon _mayonnaise_, and decanters of sherry and claret. he places a cold ham or chicken on the sideboard, and a pitcher of ice-water on a side-table, and then leaves the dining-room, and takes no heed of the baser wants of humanity until dinner-time. an underman or footman takes the place of this lofty being, and waits at table. in more modest houses, where there is only a maid-servant or one man, all arrangements for the luncheon and for expected guests should be made immediately after breakfast. if the children dine with the family at luncheon, it, of course, becomes an important meal, and should include one hot dish and a simple dessert. it is well for people living in the country, and with a certain degree of style, to study up the methods of making salads and cold dishes, for these come in so admirably for luncheon that they often save a hostess great mortification. by attention to small details a very humble repast may be most elegant. a silver bread-basket for the thin slices of bread, a pretty cheese-dish, a napkin around the cheese, pats of butter in a pretty dish, flowers in vases, fruits neatly served--these things cost little, but they add a zest to the pleasures of the table. if a hot luncheon is served, it is not etiquette to put the vegetables on the table as at dinner; they should be handed by the waiter. the luncheon-table is already full of the articles for dessert, and there is no place for the vegetables. the hot _entr�es_ or cold _entr�es_ are placed before the master or mistress, and each guest is asked what he prefers. the whole aspect of luncheon is thus made perfectly informal. if a lady gives a more formal lunch, and has it served _ la russe_, the first _entr�e_--let us say chops and green pease--is handed by the waiter, commencing with the lady who sits on the right hand of the master of the house. this is followed by vegetables. plates having been renewed, a salad and some cold ham can be offered. the waiter fills the glasses with sherry, or offers claret. when champagne is served at lunch, it is immediately after the first dish has been served, and claret and sherry are not then given unless asked for. after the salad a fresh plate, with a dessert-spoon and small fork upon it, is placed before each person. the ice-cream, pie, or pudding is then placed in front of the hostess, who cuts it, and puts a portion on each plate. after these dainties have been discussed, a glass plate, _serviette_, and finger-bowl are placed before each guest for fruit. the servant takes the plate from his mistress after she has filled it, and hands it to the lady of first consideration, and so on. when only members of the family are present at luncheon, the mistress of the house is helped first. fruit tarts, pudding, sweet omelette, jellies, blancmange, and ice- cream are all proper dessert for luncheon; also luncheon cake, or the plainer sorts of loaf-cake. it is well in all households, if possible, for the children to breakfast and lunch with their parents. the teaching of table manners cannot be begun too soon. but children should never be allowed to trouble guests. if not old enough to behave well at table, guests should not be invited to the meals at which they are present. it is very trying to parents, guests, and servants. when luncheon is to be an agreeable social repast, which guests are expected to share, then the children should dine elsewhere. no mother succeeds better in the rearing of her children than she who has a nursery dining-room, where, under her own eye, her bantlings are properly fed. it is not so much trouble, either, as one would think. table mats are no longer used in stylish houses, either at luncheon or at dinner. the waiter should have a coarse towel in the butler's pantry, and wipe each dish before he puts it on the table. menu-cards are never used at luncheon. salt-cellars and small water _carafes_ may be placed up and down the luncheon-table. in our country, where servants run away and leave their mistress when she is expecting guests, it is well to be able to improvise a dish from such materials as may be at hand. nothing is better than a cod _mayonnaise_. a cod boiled in the morning is a friend in the afternoon. when it is cold remove the skin and bones. for sauce put some thick cream in a porcelain saucepan, and thicken it with corn- flour which has been mixed with cold water. when it begins to boil, stir in the beaten yolks of two eggs. as it cools, beat it well to prevent it from becoming lumpy, and when nearly cold, stir in the juice of two lemons, a little tarragon vinegar, a pinch of salt, and a _soup�on_ of cayenne pepper. peel and slice some very ripe tomatoes or cold potatoes; steep them in vinegar, with cayenne, powdered ginger, and plenty of salt; lay these around the fish, and cover with the cream sauce. this makes a very elegant cold dish for luncheon. the tomatoes or potatoes should be taken out of the vinegar and carefully drained before they are placed around the fish. some giblets carefully saved from the ducks, geese, or chickens of yesterday's dinner should be stewed in good beef stock, and then set away to cool. put them in a stewpan with dried split pease, and boil them until they are reduced to pulp; serve this mixture hot on toast, and, if properly flavored with salt and pepper, you have a good luncheon dish. vegetable salads of beet-root, potatoes, and lettuce are always delicious, and the careful housewife who rises early in the morning and provides a round of cold corned beef, plenty of bread, and a luncheon cake, need not regret the ephemeral cook, or fear the coming city guest. every country housewife should learn to garnish dishes with capers, a border of water-cresses, plain parsley, or vegetables cut into fancy forms. potatoes, eggs, and cold hashed meats, in their unadorned simplicity, do not come under the head of luxuries. but if the hashed meat is carefully warmed and well flavored, and put on toast, if the potatoes are chopped and browned and put around the meat, if the eggs are boiled, sliced, and laid around as a garnish, and a few capers and a border of parsley added, you have a delmonico ragout that brillat-savarin would have enjoyed. chapter xxxvi. supper-parties. after a long retirement into the shades, the supper-party, the "sit-down supper," once so dear to our ancestors, has been again revived. leaders of society at newport have found that, after the hearty lunch which everybody eats there at one or three o'clock the twelve or fourteen course dinner at seven o'clock, is too much; that people come home reluctantly from their ocean drive to dress; and last summer, in consequence, invitations were issued for suppers at nine or half-past nine. the suppers at private houses, which had previously fallen out of fashion by reason of the convenience and popularity of the great restaurants, were resumed. the very late dinners in large cities have, no doubt, also prevented the supper from being a favorite entertainment; but there is no reason (except the disapproval of doctors) why suppers should not be in fashion in the country, or where people dine early. in england, where digestions are better than here, and where people eat more heavily, "the supper-tray" is an institution, and suppers are generally spread in every english country house; and we may acknowledge the fact that the supper--the little supper so dear to the hearts of our friends of the last century--seems to be coming again into fashion here. nothing can be more significant than that _harper's bazar_ receives many letters asking for directions for setting the table for supper, and for the proper service of the meats which are to gayly cover the cloth and enrich this always pleasant repast. in a general way the same service is proper at a supper as at a dinner, with the single exception of the soup-plates. oysters on the half-shell and bouillon served in cups are the first two courses. if a hot supper is served, the usual dishes are sweetbreads, with green pease, _c�telettes la financiere_, and some sort of game in season, such as reed-birds in autumn, canvas-back ducks, venison, or woodcock; salads of every kind are in order, and are often served with the game. then ices and fruit follow. cheese is rarely offered, although some _gourmets_ insist that a little is necessary with the salad. after each course all the dishes and knives and forks that have been in use are replaced by fresh ones, and the order and neatness of the table preserved to the end of the supper. we would think it unnecessary to mention this most obvious detail of table decorum, had not several correspondents asked to be informed concerning it. there is, of course, the informal supper, at which the dishes are all placed on a table together, as for a supper at a large ball. meats, dressed salmon, chicken _croquettes_, salads, jellies, and ices are a part of the alarming _m�lange_ of which a guest is expected to partake, with only such discrimination as may be dictated by prudence or inclination. but this is not the "sit down," elegant supper so worthy to be revived, with its courses and its etiquette and its brilliant conversation, which was the delight of our grandmothers. a large centre-piece of flowers, with fruit and candies in glass _compotiers_, and high forms of _nougat_, and other sugar devices, are suitable standards for an elegant supper-table. three sorts of wine may be placed on the table in handsome decanters--sherry, or madeira, and burgundy. the guests find oysters on the half-shell, with little fish forks, all ready for them. the napkin and bread are laid at the side or in front of each plate. these plates being removed, other plain plates are put in their place, and cups of bouillon are served, with gold teaspoons. this course passed, other plates are put before the guest, and some chicken _croquettes_ or lobster _farci_ is passed. sherry or madeira should already have been served with the oysters. with the third course iced champagne is offered. then follow game, or fried oysters, salads, and a slice of _p�t� de foie gras_, with perhaps tomato salad; and subsequently ices, jellies, fruit, and coffee, and for the gentlemen a glass of brandy or cordial. each course is taken away before the next is presented. birds and salad are served together. there is a much simpler supper possible, which is often offered by a hospitable hostess after the opera or theatre. it consists of a few oysters, a pair of cold roast chickens, a dish of lobster or plain salad, with perhaps a glass of champagne, and one sort of ice-cream, and involves very little trouble or expense, and can be safely said to give as much pleasure as the more sumptuous feast. this informal refreshment is often placed on a red table-cloth, with a dish of oranges and apples in the centre of the table, and one servant is sufficient. there should be, however, the same etiquette as to the changing of plates, knives, and forks, etc., as in the more elaborate meal. the good house-keeper who gives a supper every evening to her hungry family may learn many an appetizing device by reading english books of cookery on this subject. a hashed dish of the meat left from dinner, garnished with parsley, a potato salad, a few slices of cold corned beef or ham, some pickled tongues, bread, butter, and cheese, with ale or cider, is the supper offered at nearly every english house in the country. the silver and glass, the china and the fruit, should be as carefully attended to as for a dinner, and everything as neat and as elegant as possible, even at an informal supper. oysters, that universal food of the american, are invaluable for a supper. fried oysters diffuse a disagreeable odor through the house, therefore they are not as convenient in a private dwelling as scalloped oysters, which can be prepared in the afternoon, and which send forth no odor when cooking. broiled oysters are very delicate, and are a favorite dish at an informal supper. broiled birds and broiled bones are great delicacies, but they must be prepared by a very good cook. chicken in various forms hashed, fried, cold, or in salad--is useful; veal may be utilized for all these things, if chicken is not forthcoming. the delicately treated chicken livers also make a very good dish, and mushrooms on toast are perfect in their season. hot vegetables are never served, except green pease with some other dish. beef, except in the form of a fillet, is never seen at a "sit-down" supper, and even a fillet is rather too heavy. lobster in every form is a favorite supper delicacy, and the grouse; snipe, woodcock, teal; canvasback, and squab on toast, are always in order. in these days of italian warehouses and imported delicacies, the pressed and jellied meats, _p�t�s_, sausages, and spiced tongues furnish a variety for a cold supper. no supper is perfect without a salad. the romans made much of this meal, and among their delicacies were the ass, the dog, and the snail, sea-hedgehogs, oysters, asparagus, venison, wild boar, sea-nettles, fish, fowl, game, and cakes. the germans to-day eat wild boar, head-cheese, pickles, goose's flesh dried, sausages, cheese, and salads for supper, and wash down with beer. the french, under louis xiv., began to make the supper their most finished meal. they used gold and silver dishes, crystal cups and goblets, exquisite grapes crowned the _�pergne_, and choicest fruits were served in golden dishes. the cooks sent up piquant sauces for the delicately cooked meats, the wines were drunk hot and spiced. the latter are taken iced now. many old house-keepers, however, serve a rich, hot-mulled port for a winter supper. it is a delicious and not unhealthy beverage, and can be easily prepared. the doctors, as we have said, condemn a late supper, but the pros and cons of this subject admit of discussion. every one, indeed, must decide for himself. few people can undergo excitement of an evening--an opera or play or concert, or even the pleasant conversation of an evening party-- without feeling hungry. with many, if such an appetite is not appeased it will cause sleeplessness. to eat lightly and to drink lightly at supper is a natural instinct with people if they expect to go to bed at once; but excitement is a great aid to digestion, and a heavy supper sometimes gives no inconvenience. keats seems to have had a vision of a modern supper-table when he wrote: "soft he set a table, and ...threw thereon a cloth of woven crimson, gold, and jet; ...from forth the closet brought a heap of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd, with jellies soother than the creamy curd, and lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon, manna and dates: ...spiced dainties every one." the supper being a meal purely of luxury should be very dainty. everything should be tasteful and appetizing; the wines should be excellent, the claret not too cool, the champagne _frapp�_, or almost so, the madeira and the port the temperature of the room, and the sherry cool. if punch is served, it should be at the end of the supper. many indulgent hostesses now allow young gentlemen to smoke a cigarette at the supper-table, after the eating and drinking is at an end, rather than break up the delicious flow of conversation which at the close of a supper seems to be at its best. this, however, should not be done unless every lady at the table acquiesces, as the smell of tobacco-smoke sometimes gives women an unpleasant sensation. suppers at balls and parties include now all sorts of cold and hot dishes, even a haunch of venison, and a fillet of beef, with truffles; a cold salmon dressed with a green sauce; oysters in every form except raw--they are not served at balls; salads of every description; boned and truffled turkey and chicken; _p�t�s_ of game; cold partridges and grouse; _p�t� de foie gras_; our american specialty, hot canvas-back duck; and the baltimore turtle, terrapin, oyster and game patties; bonbons, ices, biscuits, creams, jellies, and fruits, with champagne, and sometimes, of later years, claret and moselle cup, and champagne-cup--beverages which were not until lately known in america, except at gentlemen's clubs and on board yachts, but which are very agreeable mixtures, and gaining in favor. every lady should know how to mix cup, as it is convenient both for supper and lawn-tennis parties, and is preferable in its effects to the heavier article so common at parties--punch. chapter xxxvii. simple dinners. to achieve a perfect little dinner with small means at command is said to be a great intellectual feat. dinner means so much--a french cook, several accomplished servants, a very well-stocked china closet, plate chest, and linen chest, and flowers, wines, bonbons, and so on. but we have known many simple little dinners given by young couples with small means which were far more enjoyable than the gold and silver "diamond" dinners. given, first, a knowledge of _how to do it_; a good cook (not a _cordon bleu_); a neat maid-servant in cap and apron--if the lady can carve (which all ladies should know how to do); if the gentleman has a good bottle of claret, and another of champagne--or neither, if he disapproves of them; if the house is neatly and quietly furnished, with the late magazines on the table; if the welcome is cordial, and there is no noise, no fussy pretence--these little dinners are very enjoyable, and every one is anxious to be invited to them. but people are frightened off from simple entertainments by the splendor of the great luxurious dinners given by the very rich. it is a foolish fear. the lady who wishes to give a simple but good dinner has first to consult what is _seasonable_. she must offer the dinner of the season, not seek for those strawberries in february which are always sour, nor peaches in june, nor pease at christmas. forced fruit is never good. for an autumnal small dinner here is a very good _menu_: sherry./oysters on the half-shell./chablis, soupe la reine. blue-fish, broiled./hock, filet de boeuf aux champignons./champagne or, roast beef or mutton./claret. roast partridges./ burgundy, or sherry salad of tomatoes. cheese./liqueurs of course, in these days, claret and champagne are considered quite enough for a small dinner, and one need not offer the other wines. or, as mrs. henderson says in her admirable cook-book, a very good dinner maybe given with claret alone. a table claret to add to the water is almost the only wine drunk in france or italy at an every-day dinner. of course no wine at all is expected at the tables of those whose principles forbid alcoholic beverages, and who nevertheless give excellent dinners without them. a perfectly fresh white damask table-cloth, napkins of equally delicate fabric, spotless glass and silver, pretty china, perhaps one high glass dish crowned with fruit and flowers--sometimes only the fruit--chairs that are comfortable, a room not too warm, the dessert served in good taste, but not overloaded--this is all one needs. the essentials of a good dinner are but few. the informal dinner invitations should be written by the lady herself in the first person. she may send for her friends only a few days before she wants them to come. she should be ready five minutes before her guests arrive, and in the parlor, serene and cool, "mistress of herself, though china fall." she should see herself that the dinner-table is properly laid, the champagne and sherry thoroughly cooled, the places marked out, and, above all, the guests properly seated. "ay, there's the rub." to invite the proper people to meet each other, to seat them so that they can have an agreeable conversation, that is the trying and crucial test. little dinners are social; little dinners are informal; little dinners make people friends. and we do not mean _little_ in regard to numbers or to the amount of good food; we mean _simple_ dinners. all the good management of a young hostess or an old one cannot prevent accident, however. the cook may get drunk; the waiter may fall and break a dozen of the best plates; the husband may be kept down town late, and be dressing in the very room where the ladies are to take off their cloaks (american houses are frightfully inconvenient in this respect). all that the hostess can do is to preserve an invincible calm, and try not to care--at least not to show that she cares. but after a few attempts the giving of a simple dinner becomes very easy, and it is the best compliment to a stranger. a gentleman travelling to see the customs of a country is much more pleased to be asked to a modest repast where he meets his hostess and her family than to a state dinner where he is ticketed off and made merely one at a banquet. then the limitations of a dinner can be considered. it is not kind to keep guests more than an hour, or two hours at the most, at table. french dinners rarely exceed an hour. english dinners are too long and too heavy, although the conversation is apt to be brilliant. at a simple dinner one can make it short. it is better to serve coffee in the drawing-room, although if the host and hostess are agreed on this point, and the ladies can stand smoke, it is served at table, and the gentlemen light their cigarettes. in some houses smoking is forbidden in the dining-room. the practice of the ladies retiring first is an english one, and the french consider it barbarous. whether we are growing more french or not, we seem to be beginning to do away with the separation after dinner. it is the custom at informal dinners for the lady to help the soup and for the gentleman to carve; therefore the important dishes are put on the table. but the servants who wait should be taught to have sidetables and sideboards so well placed that anything can be removed immediately after it is finished. a screen is a very useful adjunct in a dining-room. inefficient servants have a disagreeable habit of running in and out of the dining-room in search of something that should have been in readiness; therefore the lady of the house had better see beforehand that french rolls are placed under every napkin, and a silver basket full of them ready in reserve. also large slices of fresh soft bread should be on the side table, as every one does not like hard bread, and should be offered a choice. the powdered sugar, the butter, the caster, the olives, the relishes, should all be thought of and placed where each can be readily found. servants should be taught to be noiseless, and to avoid a hurried manner. in placing anything on or taking anything off a table a servant should never reach across a person seated at table for that purpose. however hurried the servant may be, or however near at hand the article, she should be taught to walk quietly to the left hand of each guest to remove things, while she should pass everything in the same manner, giving the guest the option of using his right hand with which to help himself. servants should have a silver or plated knife-tray to remove the gravy-spoon and carving knife and fork before removing the platter. all the silver should be thus removed; it makes a table much neater. servants should be taught to put a plate and spoon and fork at every place before each course. after the meats and before the pie, pudding, or ices, the table should be carefully cleared of everything but fruit and flowers--all plates, glasses, carafes, salt-cellars, knives and forks, and whatever pertains to the dinner should be removed, and the table- cloth well cleared with brush or crumb-scraper on a silver waiter, and then the plates, glasses, spoons, and forks laid at each plate for the dessert. if this is done every day, it adds to a common dinner, and trains the waitress to her work. the dinner, the dishes, and the plates should all be hot. the ordinary plate-warmer is now superseded by something far better, in which a hot brick is introduced. the most _recherch�_ dinner is spoiled if hot mutton is put on a cold plate. the silver dishes should be heated by hot water in the kitchen, the hot dinner plates must be forthcoming from the plate-warmer, nor must the roasts or _entr�es_ be allowed to cool on their way from the kitchen to the dining-room. a servant should have a thumb napkin with which to hand the hot dishes, and a clean towel behind the screen with which to wipe the platters which have been sent up on the dumb-waiter. on these trifles depend the excellence of the simple dinner. chapter xxxviii. the small-talk of society. one of the cleverest questions asked lately is, "what shall i talk about at a dinner-party?" now if there is a woman in the world who does not know what to talk about, is it not a very difficult thing to tell her? one can almost as well answer such a question as, "what shall i see out of my eyes?" yet our young lady is not the first person who has dilated of late years upon the "decay of conversation," nor the only one who has sometimes felt the heaviness of silence descend upon her at a modern dinner. no doubt this same great and unanswerable question has been asked by many a traveller who, for the first time, has sat next an englishman of good family (perhaps even with a handle to his name), who has answered all remarks by the proverbial but unsympathetic "oh!" indeed, it is to be feared that it is a fashion for young men nowadays to appear listless, to conceal what ideas they may happen to have, to try to appear stupid, if they are not so, throwing all the burden of the conversation on the lively, vivacious, good- humored girl, or the more accomplished married woman, who may be the next neighbor. women's wits are proverbially quick, they talk readily, they read and think more than the average young man of fashion is prone to do; the result is a quick and a ready tongue. yet the art of keeping up a flow of agreeable and incessant small- talk, not too heavy, not pretentious or egotistical, not scandalous, and not commonplace, is an art that is rare, and hardly to be prized too highly. it has been well said that there is a great difference between a brilliant conversationalist and a ready small-talker. the former is apt to be feared, and to produce a silence around him. we all remember macaulay and "his brilliant flashes of silence." we all know that there are talkers so distinguished that you must not ask both of them to dinner on the same day lest they silence each other, while we know others who bring to us just an average amount of tact, facility of expression, geniality, and a pleasant gift at a quotation, a bit of repartee; such a person we call a ready small- talker, a "most agreeable person," one who frightens nobody and who has a great popularity. such a one has plenty of small change, very useful, and more easy to handle than the very large cheek of the conversationalist, who is a millionaire as to his memory, learning, and power of rhetoric, but who cannot and will not indulge in small- talk. we respect the one; we like the other. the first point to be considered, if one has no inspiration in regard to small-talk, would seem to be this; try to consider what subject would most interest the person next to you. there are people who have no other talent, whom we never call clever, but who do possess this instinct, and who can talk most sympathetically, while knowing scarcely anything about the individual addressed. there are others who are deficient in this gift, who can only say "really" and "indeed." these "really" and "indeed" and "oh" people are the despair of the dinner-giver. the gay, chatty, light-hearted people who can glide into a conversation easily, are the best of dinner-table companions, even if they do sometimes talk too much about the weather and such commonplaces. it is a good plan for a shy young person, who has no confidence in her own powers of conversation, to fortify herself with several topics of general interest, such as the last new novel, the last opera, the best and newest gallery of pictures, or the flower in fashion; and to invent a formula, if words are wanting in her organization, as to how these subjects should be introduced and handled. many ideas will occur to her, and she can silently arrange them. then she may keep these as a reserve force, using them only when the conversation drops, or she is unexpectedly brought to the necessity of keeping up the ball alone. some people use this power rather unfairly, leading the conversation up to the point where they wish to enter; but these are not the people who need help--they can take care of themselves. after talking awhile in a perfunctory manner, many a shy young person has been astonished by a sudden rush of brilliant ideas, and finds herself talking naturally and well without effort. it is like the launching of a ship; certain blocks of shyness and habits of mental reserve are knocked away, and the brave frigate _small-talk_ takes the water like a thing of life. it demands much tact and cleverness to touch upon the ordinary events of the day at a mixed dinner, because, in the first place, nothing should be said which can hurt any one's feelings, politics, religion, and the stock market being generally ruled out; nor should one talk about that which everybody knows, for such small-talk is impertinent and irritating. no one wishes to be told that which he already understands better, perhaps, than we do. nor are matters of too private a nature, such as one's health, or one's servants, or one's disappointments, still less one's good deeds, to be talked about. commonplace people also sometimes try society very much by their own inane and wholly useless criticisms. supposing we take up music, it is far more agreeable to hear a person say, "how do you like nilsson?" than to hear him say, "i like nilsson, and i have these reasons for liking her." let that come afterwards. when a person really qualified to discuss artists, or literary people, or artistic points, talks sensibly and in a chatty, easy way about them, it is the perfection of conversation; but when one wholly and utterly incompetent to do so lays down the law on such subjects he or she becomes a bore. but if the young person who does not know how to talk treats these questions interrogatively, ten chances to one, unless she is seated next an imbecile, she will get some very good and light small-talk out of her next neighbor. she may give a modest personal opinion, or narrate her own sensations at the opera, if she can do so without egotism, and she should always show a desire to be answered. if music and literature fail, let her try the subjects of dancing, polo-playing, and lawn-tennis. a very good story was told of a bright new york girl and a very haw-haw-stupid englishman at a newport dinner. the englishman had said "oh," and "really," and "quite so," to everything which this bright girl had asked him, when finally, very tired and very angry, she said, "were you ever thrown in the hunting-field, and was your head hurt?" the man turned and gazed admiringly. "now you've got me," was the reply. and he talked all the rest of the dinner of his croppers. perhaps it may not be necessary or useful often to unlock so rich a _r�pertoire_ as this; but it was a very welcome relief to this young lady not to do all the talking during three hours. after a first introduction there is, no doubt, some difficulty in starting a conversation. the weather, the newspaper, the last accident, the little dog, the bric- -brac, the love of horses, etc., are good and unfailing resources, except that very few people have the readiness to remember this wealth of subjects at once. to recollect a thing apropos of the moment is the gift of ready-witted people alone, and how many remember, hours after, a circumstance which would have told at that particular moment of embarrassment when one stood twiddling his hat, and another twisted her handkerchief. the french call "_l'esprit d'escalier_"--the "wit of the staircase"--the gift of remembering the good thing you might have said in the drawing-room, just too late, as you go up-stairs. however, two new people generally overcome this moment of embarrassment, and then some simple offer of service, such as, "can i get you a chair?" "is that window too cold?" "can i bring you some tea?" occurs, and then the small-talk follows. the only curious part of this subject is that so little skill is shown by the average talker in weaving facts and incidents into his treatment of subjects of everyday character, and that he brings so little intelligence to bear on his discussion of them. it is not given to every one to be brilliant and amusing, but, with a little thought, passing events may always give rise to pleasant conversation. we have lately been visited by a succession of brilliant sunsets, concerning which there have been various theories. this has been a charming subject for conversation, yet at the average dinner we have heard but few persons mention this interesting topic. perhaps one is afraid to start a conversation upon celestial scenery at a modern dinner. the things may seem too remote, yet it would not be a bad idea. gossip may promote small-talk among those who are very intimate and who live in a narrow circle. but how profoundly uninteresting is it to an outsider!--how useless to the real man or woman of the world! that is, unless it is literary, musical, artistic gossip. scandal ruins conversation, and should never be included even in a definition of small-talk. polite, humorous, vivacious, speculative, dry, sarcastic, epigrammatic, intellectual, and practical people all meet around a dinner-table, and much agreeable small-talk should be the result. it is unfortunately true that there is sometimes a failure in this respect. let a hostess remember one thing: there is no chance for vivacity of intellect if her room is too warm; her flowers and her guests will wilt together. there are those also who prefer her good dishes to talking, and the old gentleman in _punch_ who rebuked his lively neighbor for talking while there were "such _entr�es_ coming in" has his counterparts among ourselves. some shy talkers have a sort of empirical way of starting a subject with a question like this: "do you know the meaning and derivation of the term 'bric- -brac?'" "do you believe in ghosts?" "what do you think of a ladies' club?" "do you believe in chance?" "is there more talent displayed in learning the violin than in playing a first-rate game of chess?" etc. these are intellectual conundrums, and may be repeated indefinitely where the person questioned is disposed to answer. with a flow of good spirits and the feeling of case which comes from a knowledge of society, such questions often bring out what margaret fuller called "good talk." but if your neighbor says "oh," "really," "indeed," "i don't know," then the best way is to be purely practical, and talk of the chairs and tables, and the existing order of things, the length of trains, or the shortness of the dresses of the young ladies at the last ball, the prevailing idea that "ice-water is unhealthy," and other such extremely easy ideas. the sound of one's own voice is generally very sweet in one's own ears; let every lady try to cultivate a pleasant voice for those of other people, and also an agreeable and accurate pronunciation. the veriest nothings sound well when thus spoken. the best way to learn how to talk is, of course, to learn how to think: from full wells one brings up buckets full of clear water, but there can be small-talk without much thought. the fact remains that brilliant thinkers and scholars are not always good talkers, and there is no harm in the cultivation of the art of conversation, no harm in a little "cramming," if a person is afraid that language is not his strong point. the merest trifle generally suffices to start the flow of small-talk, and the person who can use this agreeable weapon of society is always popular and very much courted. chapter xxxix. garden-parties. many of our correspondents ask us, "what shall we order for a garden-party?" we must answer that the first thing to order is a fine day. in these fortunate days the morning revelations of old probabilities give us an almost exact knowledge of what of rain or sunshine the future has in store. a rain or tornado which starts from alaska, where the weather is made nowadays, will almost certainly be here on the third day; so the hostess who is willing to send a hasty bidding can perhaps avoid rain. it is the custom, however, to send invitations for these garden-parties a fortnight before they are to occur. at newport they are arranged weeks beforehand, and if the weather is bad the entertainment takes place in-doors. when invitations are given to a suburban place to which people are expected to go by rail or any public means of conveyance, a card should also be sent stating the hours at which trains leave, which train or boat to take, and any other information that may add to the comfort of the guest. these invitations are engraved, and printed on note-paper, which should be perfectly plain, or bear the family crest in water-mark only, and read somewhat as follows: _mr. and mrs. edwin smith request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. conway brown's company on tuesday, the thirtieth of july, at four o'clock. garden party. 		yonkers, new york._ then, on the card enclosed, might be printed, _carriages will meet the . train from grand central depot._ if the invitation is to a country place not easy of access, still more explicit directions should be given. the garden-party proper is always held entirely in the open air. in england the refreshments are served under a _marquee_ in the grounds, and in that inclement clime no one seems to think it a hardship if a shower of rain comes down, and ruins fine silks and beautiful bonnets. but in our fine sunshiny land we are very much afraid of rain, and our malarious soil is not considered always safe, so that the thoughtful hostess often has her table in-doors, piazzas filled with chairs, turkey rugs laid down on the grass, and every preparation made that the elderly and timid and rheumatic may enjoy the garden-party without endangering their health. a hostess should see that her lawn-tennis ground is in order, the croquet laid out, and the archery tools all in place, so that her guests may amuse themselves with these different games. sometimes balls and races are added to these amusements, and often a platform is laid for dancing, if the turf be not sufficiently dry. a band of musicians is essential to a very elegant and successful garden- party, and a varied selection of music, grave and gay, should be rendered. although at a dinner-party there is reason to fear that an orchestra may be a nuisance, at a garden-party the open air and space are sufficient guarantees against this danger. if the hostess wishes her entertainment to be served out-of-doors, of course all the dishes must be cold. salads, cold birds, and ham, tongue, and _p�t� de foie gras_, cold _p�t�s_, and salmon dressed with a green sauce, jellies, charlottes, ices, cakes, punch, and champagne, are the proper things to offer. a cup of hot tea should be always ready in the house for those who desire it. at a garden-party proper the hostess receives out on the lawn, wearing her hat or bonnet, and takes it for granted that the party will be entirely out-of-doors. the carriages, however, drive up to the door, and the ladies can go up-stairs and deposit their wraps and brush off the dust, if they wish. a servant should be in attendance to show the guests to that part of the grounds in which the lady is receiving. at newport these parties are generally conducted on the principle of an afternoon tea, and after the mistress of the house has received her guests, they wander through the grounds, and, when weary, return to the house for refreshment. _p�t� de foie gras_, sandwiches, cold birds, plates of delicious jellied tongue, lobster salad, and sometimes hot cakes and hot broiled chicken, are served at these high teas. coffee and tea and wine are also offered, but these are at mixed entertainments which have grown out of the somewhat unusual hours observed at newport in the season. there is a sort of public garden-party in this country which prevails on semi-official occasions, such as the laying of a foundation-stone for a public building, the birthday of a prominent individual, a sunday-school festival, or an entertainment given to a public functionary. these are banquets, and for them the invitations are somewhat general, and should be officially issued. for the private garden-party it is proper for a lady to ask for an invitation for a friend, as there is always plenty of room; but it should also be observed that where this request is not answered affirmatively, offence should not be taken. it is sometimes very difficult for a lady to understand why her request for an invitation to her friend is refused; but she should never take the refusal as a discourtesy to herself. there may be reasons which cannot be explained. ladies always wear bonnets at a garden-party, and the sensible fashion of short dresses has hitherto prevailed; but it is rumored that a recent edict of the princess of wales against short dresses at her garden-parties will find followers on this side of the water, notably at newport, which out-herods herod in its respect to english fashions. indeed, a long dress is very pretty on the grass and under the trees. at buckingham palace a garden-party given to the viceroy of egypt several years ago presented a very watteau-like picture. worth's handsomest dresses were freely displayed, and the lovely grounds and old trees at the back of the palace were in fine full dress for the occasion. in fact, england is the land for garden-parties, with its turf of velvet softness, its flowing lime-trees, its splendid old oaks, and its finished landscape gardening. there are but few places as yet in america which afford the clipped-box avenues, the arcades of blossoming rose-vines, the pleached alleys, the finely kept and perfect gravel-walks, or, better than all, the quiet, old-fashioned gardens, down which the ladies may walk, rivals of the flowers. but there are some such places; and a green lawn, a few trees, a good prospect, a fine day, and something to eat, are really all the absolute requirements for a garden-party. in the neighborhood of new york very charming garden-parties have been given: at the brooklyn navy-yard and the camp of the soldier, at the head-quarters of the officers of marines, and at the ever-lovely governor's island. up the hudson, out at orange (with its multitudinous pretty settlements), all along the coast of long island, the garden-party is almost imperatively necessary. the owner of a fine place is expected to allow the unfortunates who must stay in town at least one sniff of his roses and new-mown hay. lawn-tennis has had a great share in making the garden-party popular; and in remote country places ladies should learn how to give these parties, and, with very little trouble, make the most of our fine climate. there is no doubt that a little awkwardness is to be overcome in the beginning, for no one knows exactly what to do. deprived of the friendly shelter of a house, guests wander forlornly about; but a graceful and ready hostess will soon suggest that a croquet or lawn-tennis party be formed, or that a contest at archery be entered upon, or that even a card-party is in order, or that a game of checkers can be played under the trees. servants should be taught to preserve the proprieties of the feast, if the meal be served under the trees. there should be no piles of dishes, knives, forks, or spoons, visible on the green grass; baskets should be in readiness to carry off everything as soon as used. there should be a sufficient quantity of glass and china in use, and plenty of napkins, so that there need be no delay. the lemonade and punch bowls should be replenished from the dining-room as soon as they show signs of depletion, and a set of neat maid- servants can be advantageously employed in watching the table, and seeing that the cups, spoons, plates, wine-glasses, and forks are in sufficient quantity and clean. if tea is served, maid-servants are better than men, as they are careful that the tea is hot, and the spoons, cream, and sugar forthcoming. fruit is an agreeable addition to a garden-party entertainment, and pines, melons, peaches, grapes, strawberries, are all served in their season. pains should be taken to have these fruits of the very best that can be obtained. claret-cup, champagne-cup, and soda-water, brandy and shandy-gaff, are provided on a separate table for the gentlemen; apollinaris water, and the various aerated waters so fashionable now, are also provided. although gentlemen help themselves, it is necessary to have a servant in attendance to remove the wine-glasses, tumblers, and goblets as they are used, and to replenish the decanters and pitchers as they are emptied, and to supply fresh glasses. many hospitable hosts offer their guests old madeira, sherry, and port. the decanters are placed on the regular luncheon-table, and glasses of wine are carried by servants, on silver trays, to the ladies who are sitting on the piazzas and under the trees. small thin tumblers are used for the claret and champagne cup, which should be held in silver or glass pitchers. if strawberries and cream are served, a small napkin should be put between the saucer and plate, and a dessert spoon and fork handed with each plate. the servants who carry about refreshments from the tent or the table where they are served should be warned to be very careful in this part of the service, as many a fine gown has been spoiled, by a dish of strawberries and cream or a glass of punch or lemonade being overturned, through a servant's want of care. ices are now served at garden-parties in small paper cups placed on ice-plates--a fashion which is very neat, and which saves much of the _mussiness_ which has heretofore been a feature of these entertainments. numbers of small tables should be brought with the camp-stools, and placed at convenient intervals, where the guests can deposit their plates. a lady should not use her handsome glass or china at these _al fresco_ entertainments. it is sure to be broken. it is better to hire all the necessary glass, silver, and china from the caterer, as it saves a world of counting and trouble. no doubt the garden-party is a troublesome affair, particularly if the refreshments are out-of-doors, but it is very beautiful and very amusing, and worth all the trouble. it is just as pleasant, however, if the table is in-doors. chapter xl. silver weddings and other wedding anniversaries. a very sensible reform is now being attempted in the matter of silver weddings. it was once a demand on the purse of at least fifty dollars to receive an invitation to a silver wedding, because every one was expected to send a piece of silver. some very rich houses in new york are stocked with silver with the elaborate inscription, "silver wedding." to the cards of to-day is appended, "no presents received," which is a relief to the impecunious. these cards are on plain white or silver-gray paper, engraved in silver letters, with the name of the lady as she was known before marriage appended below that of her husband; the date of the marriage is also added below the names. the entertainment for a silver wedding, to be perfect, should occur at exactly the hour at which the marriage took place; but as that has been found to be inconvenient, the marriage hour is ignored, and the party takes place in the evening generally, and with all the characteristics of a modern party. the "bridal pair" stand together, of course, to receive, and as many of the original party of the groomsmen and bridesmaids as can be got together should be induced to form a part of the group. there can be no objection to the sending of flowers, and particular friends who wish can, of course, send other gifts, but there should be no _obligation_. we may say here that the custom of giving bridal gifts has become an outrageous abuse of a good idea. from being a pretty custom which had its basis in the excellent system of our dutch ancestors, who combined to help the young couple by presents of bed and table linen and necessary table furniture and silver, it has now sometimes degenerated into a form of ostentation, and is a great tax on the friends of the bride. people in certain relations to the family are even expected to send certain gifts. it has been known to be the case that the bride allowed some officious friend to suggest that she should have silver, or pearls, or diamonds; and a rich old bachelor uncle is sure to be told what is expected from him. but when a couple have reached their silver wedding, and are able and willing to celebrate it, it may be supposed that they are beyond the necessity of appealing to the generosity of their friends; therefore it is a good custom to have this phrase added to the silver-wedding invitation, "no presents received." the question has been asked if the ceremony should be performed over again. we should say decidedly not, for great danger has accrued to thoughtless persons in thus tampering with the wedding ceremony. any one who has read mrs. oliphant's beautiful story of "madonna mary" will be struck at once with this danger. it is not safe, even in the most playful manner, to imitate that legal form on which all society, property, legitimacy, and the safety of home hang. now as to the dress of the bride of twenty-five years, we should say, "any color but black." there is an old superstition against connecting black with weddings. a silver gray, trimmed with steel and lace, has lately been used with much success as a second bridal dress. still less should the dress be white; that has become so canonized as the wedding dress of a virgin bride that it is not even proper for a widow to wear it on her second marriage. the shades of rose-color, crimson, or those beautiful modern combinations of velvet and brocade which suit so many matronly women, are all appropriate silver-wedding dresses. ladies should not wear jewelry in the morning, particularly at their own houses; so if the wedding is celebrated in the morning, the hostess should take care not to be too splendid. evening weddings are, in these anniversaries, far more agreeable, and can be celebrated with more elaborate dressing. it is now so much the fashion to wear low-necked dresses (sleeveless dresses were worn by bridesmaids at an evening wedding recently) that the bride of twenty-five years can appear, if she chooses, in a low-cut short- sleeved dinner dress and diamonds in the evening. as for the groom, he should be in full evening dress, immaculate white tie, and pearl- colored kid gloves. he plays, as he does at the wedding, but a secondary part. indeed, it has been jocosely said that he sometimes poses as a victim. in savage communities and among the birds it is the male who wears the fine clothes; in christian society it is the male who dresses in black, putting the fine feathers on his wife. it is to her that all the honors are paid, he playing for the time but a secondary part. in savage communities she would dig the earth, wait upon her lord, and stand behind him while he eats; in the modern silver wedding he helps her to fried oysters and champagne, and stands while she sits. now as to who shall be invited. a correspondent writes asking if a silver wedding celebrated in a new home would not be a good opportunity for making the "first onset of hospitality," inviting those neighbors who were not known before, or at least who were not visiting acquaintances. we should think it a very happy idea. it is a compliment to ask one's friends and neighbors to any ceremony or anniversary in which our own deep feelings are concerned, such as a christening, a child's wedding, and the celebration of a birthday. why not still more when a married pair have weathered the storms of twenty-five years? people fully aware of their own respectability should never be afraid to bow first, speak first, or call first. courtesy is the most cosmopolitan of good qualities, and politeness is one of the seven capital virtues. no people giving such an invitation need be hurt if it is received coldly. they only thus find out which of their new neighbors are the most worth cultivating. this sort of courtesy is as far as possible from the dreadful word "pushing." as dress was made to dignify the human body, so a generous courtesy clothes the mind. let no one be afraid of draping the spirit with this purple and gold. and in all fresh neighborhoods the new-comers should try to cultivate society. there is something in its attrition which stimulates the mind. society brightens up the wits, and causes the dullest mind to bring its treasures to the surface. the wedding anniversaries seem to begin with the fifth one--the wooden wedding. here unique and appropriate presents seem to be very cheap. cedar tubs and bowls and pails, wooden baskets filled with flowers, shaker rocking-chairs and seats for the veranda, carved tables, cabinets of oak, wall brackets, paintings on wood, water- colors framed in wood-carvings in bog oak, and even a load of kindling wood, have been acceptably offered. the bride can dress as gayly as she pleases at this early anniversary. then comes the tin wedding, which now is very much welcomed for the pretty tin candlesticks that it brings, fresh from london furnishers. we hear of gorgeous silver weddings in california, that land of gold and silver, where the display of toilettes each represented a large fortune. but, after all, _the sentiment_ is the thing, "as when, amid the rites divine, i took thy troth, and plighted mine to thee, sweet wife, my second ring a token and a pledge i bring. this ring shall wed, till death us part, thy riper virtues to my heart--those virtues which, before untried, the wife has added to the bride." the golden wedding is a rare festivity--the great marriage bell made of wheat fully ripe; sheaves of corn; roses of the pure gold-color (the marshal niel is the golden-wedding flower _par excellence_). we can well imagine the parlors beautifully decorated with autumn leaves and evergreens, the children grouped about the aged pair, perhaps even a great-grandchild as a child bridesmaid, a bridal bouquet in the aged white hand. we can fancy nothing more poetical and pathetic than this festivity. whether or not a ring should be given by the husband to the wife on this occasion we must leave to the individual taste of the parties. no doubt it is a pleasant occasion for the gift, "if she, by merit since disclosed, proved twice the woman i supposed," there is no doubt that she deserves another ring. we have read somewhere of a crown-diamond wedding; it is the sixty-fifth anniversary. iron weddings are, we believe, the fifteenth anniversary. with silver, golden, and diamond weddings we are tolerably familiar, but, so far as we know, a crown-diamond wedding such as was celebrated a short time ago at maebuell, in the island of alsen, is a ceremony altogether without precedent in matrimonial annals. having completed their sixty-fifth year of conjugal bliss, claus jacobsen and his venerable spouse were solemnly blessed by the parson of their parish, and went, for the fifth time in their long wedded life, through the form of mutual troth-plighting before the altar at which they had for the first time been united before the battle of waterloo was fought. the united age of this crown- diamantine couple amount to _one hundred and seventy-eight years_! we doubt if this constant pair needed any ring to remind them of their wedded duty. it is strange that the origin of the wedding ring is lost in obscurity. the "fyancel," or wedding ring, is doubtless of roman origin, and was originally given at the betrothal as a pledge of the engagement. juvenal says that at the commencement of the christian era a man placed a ring on the finger of the lady whom he betrothed. in olden times the delivery of a signet-ring was a sign of confidence. the ring is a symbol of eternity and constancy. that it was placed on the woman's left hand denotes her subjection, and on the ring finger because it pressed a vein which communicates directly with the heart. so universal is the custom of wearing the wedding ring among jews and christians that no married woman is ever seen without her plain gold circlet, and she regards the loss of it as a sinister omen; and many women never remove it. this is, however, foolish, and it should be taken off and put on several times at first, so that any subsequent removal or loss need not jar painfully on the feelings. the bride-cake cut by the bride, with the wedding ring for some fortunate future spouse, seems to be still potent. the twenty-five- year-old bride should cut a few pieces, then leave others to pass it; it is a day on which she should be waited upon. some persons, in celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding day, also repeat their wedding journey, and we know a very pleasant little route in england called the "silver-wedding journey," but this is, of course, a matter so entirely personal that it cannot be universally recommended. the most graceful silver-wedding custom is for the bride and bridegroom to receive the greetings of their friends at first formally, then to leave the marriage bell or canopy of flowers and to go about among the company, becoming again host and hostess. they should spare their children, friends, and themselves tears and sad recollections. some opulent brides and bridegrooms make it a silver wedding indeed by sending substantial presents to those who started in life with them but have been less fortunate than themselves. chapter xli. spring and summer entertainments. as the season advances and the country bursts into glorious sudden spring, the garden party, the country dinner, the horseback excursions, and the asparagus parties, the hunts and the yacht voyages, the lawn-tennis and archery, the visits to the polo ground, and the delights of a visit to the friends who live within an hour of the city, at orange and at morristown, on the seagirt shore of long island or up the hudson, begin to loom up before the city-bound worthy, and to throw a "rose hue o'er his russet cares." now the first question with the neophyte who would go to the hunts (for they "break the ice" in more senses than one), as the first of the spring out-of-door entertainments, is, what does a young girl require who would "ride to hounds"? for "pale diana," chaste and fair, no longer hunts on foot, as she did in the days of acteon. she must have two thorough-bred hunters. she must have a groom, an english habit, a carefully-considered outfit, and she must be a perfect and a fearless horsewoman, and not mind a "cropper." one of the young riders at the meadow brook hunt was thrown over her horse's head into a ditch last spring, and got up declaring she was not even bruised. yes, she must learn even how to fall off her horse without breaking her ribs or her nose. it is an expensive amusement to be diana nowadays. the result, however, of long practice on horseback seems to be that a woman becomes almost a centaur, and more fearless than a man. then the hunt includes as its adjuncts to the young ladies certain men in pink. they "form" on a roadside, and the master of the hunt says, "ladies and gentlemen, will you hunt?" and he motions to the whipper-in--a gallant creature in pink also-- to "throw off the dogs." then the prettiest forty dogs, all spotted, start on their mad career. it is a beautiful sight, with the red-coated huntsmen following, and it looks as if the real fox would be attainable after a time, instead of the farce of an anise-seed bag which now serves to make the ghost of a scent. the low, soft hat is a favorite with our young riders, but there is this to say for the hard hat, it does break a fall. many a fair forehead has been saved from a terrible scar by the resistant hard hat. the habit of riding every day and of getting thoroughly accustomed to one's seat should precede the daring attempt at a break-neck "jump." no one should pretend to hunt who has not a good seat, a good horse, and plenty of nerve. much less should an incompetent rider venture on a friend's horse. it has been said in england that "a man will forgive you for breaking his own neck, but not that of his favorite hunter." as the day for driving has come, many correspondents write to ask what is the best style of equipage for a young man. we can only say that a tilbury and one horse is very showy, that a dog-cart is the most "knowing," that a high chariot is very stately, but that the two-seated park wagon is the most appropriate in which to take out a lady. there should always be a servant behind. the art of driving is simple enough, but requires much practice. the good driver should understand his horse well, and turn his curves gently and slowly; he must know how to harness and unharness a horse, and be ready to mend any trifling disarrangement if there is a break. now as to driving in a carriage with ladies, a correspondent writes to ask the etiquette which should govern a gentleman's conduct. he takes his seat with his back to the horses, opposite the ladies, nor should he assume to sit beside a lady unless requested to do so. when the carriage stops, he should jump out and assist her to alight, walking with her up her own steps, and ringing the bell. in entering the carriage he should put his left foot on the step, and enter the carriage with his right foot. this is, however, supposing that he sits facing the horses; if he sits with his back to the horses, he reverses the process. a gentleman should avoid treading on ladies' dresses, or shutting them in the door. ladies who have country-houses should learn to drive as well as to ride. indeed, in these days when young women drive alone in the park in their pony phaetons and little carts, we need hardly advise that they should learn to drive well. as to boating, which is practised so largely by men, we hear of but few ladies who pull the oar about new york; but doubtless it will be done on inland streams and lakes. one gentleman should stay in the boat and help to steady it, unless the oarswomen are very expert. short dresses and round hats should be worn, with no superincumbent drapery, as the seat of honor in a boat is that occupied by the stroke oar, it is etiquette for the owner of the boat to offer it to his friend if he be a rower. the asparagus party is a sort of a long picnic, in which a party of friends join, and drive or ride out to some convenient inn where a good dinner can be served, with the advantage of the early vegetable cut directly from the ground. as long island is famous for its asparagus, these parties from new york generally select some convenient locality there, near enough to the city to be not too fatiguing a drive. the new passion for driving a coach has now become so much of an american taste that we need not describe the pastime here. at least four coaches will start from new york for some neighboring town-new rochelle, yonkers, etc.--during the summer, and there is no better way of spending a may day than on top of one. as for _al fresco_ entertainments, game pie, patties, cold beef, pressed tongue, potted meats, sandwiches, _p�t� de foie gras_, champagne, are all taken out in hampers, and served on top of the coach by the obedient valets at the races, for those parties who go out with four horses and a london coach to see the favorite run. we are often asked what would be the appropriate costume for a lawn party, and we can only answer that the costumes for these parties should be of a useful character. if it is a lawn party at a very elegant house, at newport or up the hudson, it may be, however, of a delicacy and elegance not proper if one is asked out in the country merely to "have a good time," when a person would be exposed to the weather, the wear and tear of games, and of a long day in the sun, thick boots are indispensable. but if one is invited to a wedding in the country, even if the "lawn" is to play a decided part in the entertainment, one must dress very handsomely. at the regular lawn party the lady of the house and her daughters should receive on the lawn in their bonnets. yachting is a favorite "summer entertainment," and for those who love the sea it is unparalleled for its excitement, yachting dresses should be made of serge or tweed, and possess warmth and durability, and young women can trim them according to taste with the name and insignia of their favorite yacht. for a lawn-tennis party the players dress in flannels made for the purpose, and for a lady the jersey is indispensable, as giving so much freedom to the arms. these parties begin in may at all the country-houses and country parks about our larger towns, and certainly furnish as much healthful amusement as anything can do. archery has not yet become acclimated in america, but there are clubs in certain circles which promise a future for this game. now for those who go to country-houses to stay "over sunday," as is the fashion about new york, let us give one word of advice. always hold yourself at the disposal of those at whose house you are staying. if they propose a plan of action for you, fall in with it. if your visit is prolonged for a week, endeavor to amuse yourself as much as possible. do not let your hostess see that you are dependent on her for amusement. remember, however welcome you may be, you are not always wanted. a good hostess also learns when to let her guests alone. a gentleman visitor who neither shoots, fishes, boats, reads, writes letters, nor does anything but hang about, letting himself be "amused," is an intolerable nuisance. he had better go to the billiard-room and practice caroms by himself, or retire to the stables and smoke. a lady visitor should show a similar tact in retiring to her own room to read or write letters, allowing her hostess to have her mornings or her afternoons to herself, as she pleases. some people are "born visitors." they have the genius of tact to perceive, the genius of finesse to execute, case and frankness of manner, a knowledge of the world that nothing can surprise, a calmness of temper that nothing can disturb, and a kindness of disposition that can never be exhausted. such a visitor is greatly in demand everywhere. a good-natured host and hostess place everything at the disposal of a visitor--their horses, carriages, books, and grounds. and here the utmost delicacy should be observed. never ride a horse too fast or too far. never take the coachman beyond his usual limits. never pluck a flower in the ornamental grounds without asking permission, for in these days of ornamental and fanciful gardening it is necessary to be careful and remember that each flower is a tint in a well-considered picture. never dog's-ear or disfigure the books, or leave them lying about; if you take them from their shelves, put them back. be thoughtful in your treatment of the servants, and give those who immediately wait upon you some small gratuity. and if family prayers are read, always try to be present. so much for the possibility of a "summer entertainment" at a country-house, one of the most agreeable of all, if the apple- blossoms are just out, and the charm of spring is over the whole scene. we hear of a "rustic masquerade" as one of the spring entertainments at a country-house in orange. this, it would seem, might be very suitable all over the country, if woods and water are near enough for the shepherds and shepherdesses. a copy of the garden parties which made boucher the painter that he was, and in which we almost hear the wind rustling through the sedge, the refreshing murmur of the fountain, and see the gayly dressed marquise put her violet slipper on the turf, and the elegant and stately gentlemen as they light up the neighboring arbor with their fine silk coats in his pictures--a copy of such garden parties as those which made watteau's fame (he has put them all on the fans, and the young people have only to copy them)--this would indeed be a "rustic masquerade," which might amuse and "draw" for a charity. many of our country towns on the borders of lakes, many of the places near new york in their own fine grounds, would offer a terrestrial paradise for such a garden party. to drive out to jerome park to breakfast, to get the early strawberry and the delicious cream--this is a spring entertainment which many of our business men indulge in, coming back to their work in new york refreshed and invigorated. the men of pleasure of this period have, as they have always had, an ample provision of amusement--not always the most useful, it is true--yet we are glad to see that the out-of-door excitements begin to distance the excitements of the gaming-table. betting on the turf is not carried to the ruinous extent here that it is in england, while the polo, the base-ball, the boating, and the "riding to hounds "--open to ridicule as it is, in some ways of looking at it--are all healthful. the spring season has its little dinners, lunches, and weddings, but very few evening entertainments. after a young girl has ransacked the fashionable world all winter, and been at all the f�tes and balls, concerts, operas, and suppers, she does not care for parties in may. such infatuated ardor for amusement would make sad havoc of her charms if she did. it is quite enough if she finishes her exciting winter with a fancy dance or private theatricals at some charitable entertainment. a high tea is served in courses like a dinner, excepting with less formality. the lady sits at one end of the table with the silver tea-tray before her, while the gentleman has before him cold chicken, or even, perhaps, a hot dish like roast partridges, to carve. frequently scalloped oysters are passed, and always salads, so that those who are in the habit of dining at that hour have a solid meal. there are hot cakes and biscuits and sweetmeats on the table, so that it is really the old-fashioned tea of our grandmothers re-enforced by some solid dishes. it is intended to save the servants trouble on sunday evening, but it is really more trouble to them as now served, as it gives the waiter additional dishes to wash, and quite as much service. it saves the cook, however. chapter xlii. floral tributes and decorations. when every steamer leaving these shores goes out laden with people who are weighed down with flowers, it cannot but be a severe tax on the ingenuity of the florist to devise novel and appropriate forms for the typical basket that shall say _bon voyage_ in a thousand new ways. floral ships, anchors, stars, crosses, mottoes, monograms, and even the national flag, have been used for these steamer decorations. but the language of flowers, so thoroughly understood among the persians that a single flower expresses a complete declaration of love, an offer of marriage, and, presumably, a hint at the settlement, is, with our more practical visionaries and enthusiasts of the nineteenth century, rather an echo of the stock market than a poetical fancy. we fear that no prima donna looks at her flowers without a thought of how much they have cost, and that the belle estimates her bouquet according to the commercial value of a lily- of-the-valley as compared with that of a jacqueminot rose, rather than as flowers simply. it is a pity that the overwhelming luxury of an extravagant period involves in its all-powerful grasp even the flowers of the field, those generous gifts of sunshine and of rain. but so it is. it is a well-known fact that the lady who will give her order three months in advance for the flowers needed for her daughter's wedding, or for any other grand ceremonial, can, by offering a sufficiently large amount of money, command any flower she wishes. even daisies and buttercups, red clover and white, the delicate forget-me-not of the garden, nasturtiums and marigolds, the shy and tender anemone, the dandelion and lilacs and lilies-of-the- valley, may be forced into unnatural bloom in january. it is a favorite caprice to put the field-flowers of june on a lunch-table in january. this particular table is the greatest of all the consumers of flowers, therefore we may begin by describing some of the new fancies developed by that extraordinarily luxurious meal. a lady's lunch must show not only baskets of magnificent flowers up and down the table; but it must also bear a basket or a bouquet for each lady. one of the most regal lunches, given to twenty-eight ladies, set the fashion for using little gilt baskets, with covers opening on either side of the handle--the kind of basket, of a larger size, in which, in new england and in old england, dame trot carried her multifarious parcels home from market. these pretty and useful baskets had on each side a bunch of flowers peeping out through the open cover, and on the gilt handle was tied a ribbon corresponding in color to the flowers. one of them, having soft pink rosebuds of exceeding size and loveliness on one side and a bunch of lilies-of- the-valley on the other, with a bow of pink satin ribbon on the handle, was as pretty a picture as ever kate greenaway devised. another, showing the strong contrast of purple pansies and yellow daffodils, and tied with a lovely purple satin ribbon, was a dream of rich color. the stiff, formal, flat bouquets of yellow daffodils and bunches of violets, tied with purple ribbon, make a very fine effect laid in regular order at each plate. repetition of a favorite idea in flowers is not ugly, although it seems at first very far from the primeval and delicious confusion in which nature throws her bouquets down upon upland and meadow. in the arrangement of roses the most varied and whimsical fancies may be displayed, although the most gorgeous effect is produced, perhaps, by massing a single color or group. a basket of the pink gloire de paris, however, with its redundant green foliage, alternated with deep-red jacqueminots, is a very splendid fancy, and will fill a room with fragrance. in february these roses cost two dollars apiece, and it was no rare sight to see four or six baskets, each containing forty roses, on one table during the winter of . we advise all ladies going into the country to purchase some of the little "dame trot" baskets, as they will be lovely when filled with wild-flowers during the summer. indeed, the gilt basket, fitted with a tin pan to hold earth or water, is such a cheap and pretty receptacle for either growing or cut flowers that it ought to be a belonging of every dinner-table. from the lunch-table, with its baskets and floral fancies, we come to the dinner-table. here the space is so valuable that the floral bag, an ingenious plan by which roses may be hung at the side of the wearer, has been invented. this is a novel and very pretty way of wearing flowers. the roses or other flowers are tied together with wires, in the shape of a reticule, and a ribbon and pin provided, so that the lady may fasten her floral trophy at her side. the baskets of flowers and the adornments of the _�pergne_ for a dinner are very apt to be all of one flower. if mixed, they are of two sorts, as yellow roses and red ones, or white and pink, or, may be, half of lilacs and half of roses, or purple pansies and bright yellow flowers. some tables are set with scarlet carnations alone, and the effect is very fine. for wedding decorations, houses are now filled with palm-trees in pots and orange-trees in full bearing. an entire suite of rooms is made into a bower of large-leaved plants. mirrors are covered with vines, wreaths, and climbing roses, trained across a trellis of wire. the bride stands under a floral umbrella, which juts out into the room. the monograms of bride and bridegroom are put in floral shields against the wall, like the _cartouche_ on which the names and the titles of an egyptian king are emblazoned in the solitude of the pyramids. the bouquets carried by brides and bridesmaids are now extraordinarily large, measuring a foot or more across the top. tulips have always been favorite ornaments for the dinner-table. these flowers, so fine in drawing and so splendid in color, produce an extremely brilliant effect in large masses. as easter approaches, lilies come in for especial notice, and the deep japan cup-lily, grouped with the stately callas, and the garden-lily, with its long yellow stamens and rich perfume, worthily fill the _�pergnes_. hyacinths are lovely harbingers of spring, and are beautiful in color; but there is a strong objection to this flower as a decoration, its heavy perfume being unpleasant to some people. a fish-basket filled with bunches of lilies, mignonette, deep pink moss-roses shaded to the pale tints of the rose known as the baroness de rothschild, with a glowing centre of warm red jacqueminots and a fringe of purple pansies and mar�chal niels, was one of many beautiful floral ornaments on a magnificent dinner- table. in spite of the attempt to prevent the extravagant use of flowers at funerals, we still see on those sad occasions some new and rather poetic ideas expressed by floral emblems. one of these, called the "gates ajar," was very beautiful: the "gates" panelled with lilies, and surmounted by doves holding sprays of passion-vines in their beaks. palms crossed, and clasped by roses and ribbons, an oblique cross of roses lying on a bed of ivy, a basket made of ivy and autumn leaves, holding a sheaf of grain and a sickle of violets, an ivy pillow with a cross of flowers on one side, a bunch of pansies held by a knot of ribbon at one corner, a cross made of ivy alone, a "harvest-field" made of ears of wheat, are some of the many new funereal designs which break the monotony of the dreadful white crosses, crowns, and anchors, hearts and wreaths, of the past. it is no longer necessary to exclude color from these tributes to the dead. indeed, some of the most beautiful designs noticed at recent funerals have been composed of colored flowers. for a christening, a floral cradle or swinging hammock, a bowl, a silver cup full of the tiniest flowers, are all favorite designs. a large table of flowers, with the baby's initials in the centre, was sent to one happy young mother on a recent auspicious occasion; and far more lovely was a manger of flowers, with the "star of the east" hanging above it, all made of that pretty white flower the star of bethlehem. strange contrasts of flowers have been made: purple lilacs and the blue forget-me-nots were a favorite combination--"stylish, not pretty," was the whispered criticism. the yellow marigold, a sort of small sunflower, has been the favorite "caprice" for _bouquets de corsage_. this is as near to an actual sunflower as the aesthetes have ventured to approach. with us, perhaps, there is no more splendid yellow than this marigold, and it admirably sets off a black or sage green dress. an extravagant lady, at a ball, wore around her white dress skirt a fringe of real violets. although less effective than the artificial ones, they had a pretty appearance until they drooped and faded. this adornment cost one hundred and fifty dollars. a rainbow has been attempted in flowers, but with poor success. it will look like a ribbon--a very handsome ribbon, no doubt; but the _arc-en-ciel_ evades reproduction, even in the transcendent prismatic colors of flowers. ribbons have been used with flowers, and add much to their effect; for, since the arcadian days of rosalind and celia, a flower, a ribbon, and a pretty girl, have been associated with each other in prose, poetry, painting, and romance. the hanging-baskets, filled with blooming plants, trailers, and ferns, have been much used at weddings to add to the bower-like appearance of the rooms; and altars and steps of churches have been richly adorned with flowering plants and palm-trees and other luxuriant foliage. the prices paid for flowers have been enormous. one thousand dollars for the floral decorations for a single dinner has not been an uncommon price. but the expenditure of such large sums for flowers has not been unprofitable. the flowers grow finer every day, and, as an enterprising florist, who had given a "rose tea" to his patrons, remarked, "every large order inspires us to produce a finer flower." chapter xliii. the fork and the spoon. a correspondent writes, "how shall i carry my fork to my mouth?" the fork should be raised laterally to the mouth with the right hand; the elbow should never be crooked, so as to bring the hand round at a right angle, or the fork directly opposite the mouth. the mother cannot begin too early to inculcate good manners at the table, and among the first things that young children should learn is the proper use of the fork. again, the fork should not be overloaded. to take meat and vegetables and pack them on the poor fork, as if it were a beast of burden, is a common american vulgarity, born of our hurried way of eating at railway-stations and hotels. but it is an unhealthy and an ill-mannered habit. to take but little on the fork at a time, a moderate mouthful, shows good manners and refinement. the knife must never be put into the mouth at any time--that is a remnant of barbarism. another correspondent asks, "should cheese be eaten with a fork?" we say, decidedly, "yes," although good authorities declare that it may be put on a morsel of bread with a knife, and thus conveyed to the mouth. of course we refer to the soft cheeses--like gorgonzola, brie, cream-cheese, neufchatel, limburger, and the like--which are hardly more manageable than butter. of the hard cheeses, one may convey a morsel to the month with the thumb and forefinger; but, as a general rule, it is better to use the fork. now as to the spoon: it is to be used for soup, for strawberries and cream, for all stewed fruit and preserves, and for melons, which, from their juiciness, cannot be conveniently eaten with a fork. peaches and cream, all the "wet dishes," as mrs. glasse was wont to call them, must be eaten with a spoon. roman punch is always eaten with a spoon. on elegant tables, each plate or "cover" is accompanied by two large silver knives, a small silver knife and fork for fish, a small fork for the oysters on the half-shell, a large table-spoon for soup, and three large forks. the napkin is folded in the centre, with a piece of bread in it. as the dinner progresses, the knife and fork and spoon which have been used are taken away with the plate. this saves confusion, and the servant has not to bring fresh knives and forks all the time. fish should be eaten with silver knife and fork; for if it is full of bones, like shad, for instance, it is very difficult to manage it without the aid of a knife. for sweetbreads, cutlets, roast beef, etc., the knife is also necessary; but for the _croquettes_, _rissoles_, _bouch�es la reine_, _timbales_, and dishes of that class, the fork alone is needed. a majority of the made dishes in which the french excel are to be eaten with the fork. after the dinner has been eaten, and the dessert reached, we must see to it that everything is cleared off but the table-cloth, which is now never removed. a dessert-plate is put before each guest, and a gold or silver spoon, a silver dessert spoon and fork, and often a queer little combination of fork and spoon, called an "ice-spoon." in england, strawberries are always served with the green stems, and each one is taken up with the fingers, dipped in sugar, and thus eaten. many foreigners pour wine over their strawberries, and then eat them with a fork, but this seems to be detrimental to the natural flavor of the king of berries. pears and apples should be peeled with a silver knife, cut into quarters, and then picked up with the fingers. oranges should be peeled, and cut or separated, as the eater chooses. grapes should be eaten from behind the half-closed hand, the stones and skin falling into the fingers unobserved, and thence to the plate. never swallow the stones of small fruits; it is extremely dangerous. the pineapple is almost the only fruit which requires both knife and fork. so much has the fork come into use of late that a wit observed that he took everything with it but afternoon tea. the thick chocolate, he observed, often served at afternoon entertainments, could be eaten comfortably with a fork, particularly the whipped cream on top of it. a knife and fork are both used in eating salad, if it is not cut up before serving. a large lettuce leaf cannot be easily managed without a knife, and of course the fork must be used to carry it to the mouth. thus, as bread, butter, and cheese are served with the salad, the salad knife and fork are really essential. salt-cellars are now placed at each plate, and it is not improper to take salt with your knife. dessert-spoons and small forks do not form a part of the original "cover;" that is, they are not put on at the beginning of the dinner, but are placed before the guests according as they are needed; as, for instance, when the roman punch arrives before the game, and afterwards when the plum-pudding or pastry is served before the ices. the knives and forks are placed on each side of the plate, ready for the hand. for the coffee after dinner a very small spoon is served, as a large one would be out of place in the small cups that are used. indeed, the variety of forks and spoons now in use on a well-furnished table is astonishing. one of our esteemed correspondents asks, "how much soup should be given to each person?" a half-ladleful is quite enough, unless it is a country dinner, where a full ladleful may be given without offence; but do not fill the soup-plate. in carving a joint of fowl the host ought to make sure of the condition of both knife and fork. of course a good carver sees to both before dinner. the knife should be of the best cutlery, well sharpened, and the fork long, strong, and furnished with a guard. in using the spoon be very careful not to put it too far into the mouth. it is a fashion with children to polish their spoons in a somewhat savage fashion, but the guest at a dinner-party should remember, in the matter of the dessert-spoon especially (which is a rather large implement for the mouth), not to allow even the clogging influences of cabinet pudding to induce him to give his spoon too much leeway; as in all etiquette of the table, the spoon has its difficulties and dangers. particularly has the soup-spoon its scylla and charybdis, and if a careless eater make a hissing sound as he eats his soup, the well-bred diner-out looks round with dismay. there are always people happy in their fashion of eating, as in everything else. there is no such infallible proof of good-breeding and of early usage as the conduct of a man or woman at dinner. but, as every one has not had the advantage of early training, it is well to study these minute points of table etiquette, that one may learn how to eat without offending the sensibility of the well-bred. especially study the fork and the spoon. there is, no doubt, a great diversity of opinion on the continent with regard to the fork. it is a common german fashion, even with princes, to put the knife into the month. italians are not always particular as to its use, and cultivated russians, swedes, poles, and danes often eat with their knives or forks indiscriminately. but austria, which follows french fashions, the anglo-saxon race in england, america, and the colonies, all french people, and those elegant russians who emulate french manners, deem the fork the proper medium of communication between the plate and the mouth. chapter xliv. napkins and table-cloths. the elegance of a table depends essentially upon its napery. the plainest of meals is made a banquet if the linen be fresh, fine, and smooth, and the most sumptuous repast can be ruined by a soiled and crumpled table-cloth. the housewife who wishes to conduct her house in elegance must make up her mind to use five or six sets of napkins, and to have several dozens of each ready for possible demands. a napkin should never be put on the table a second time until it has been rewashed; therefore, napkin-rings should be abandoned-- relegated to the nursery tea-table. breakfast napkins are of a smaller size than dinner napkins, and are very pretty if they bear the initial letter of the family in the centre. those of fine, double damask, with a simple design, such as a snow-drop or a mathematical figure, to match the table-cloth, are also pretty. in the end, the economy in the wear pays a young house- keeper to invest well in the best of napery--double damask, good irish linen. never buy poor or cheap napkins; they are worn out almost immediately by washing. coarse, heavy napkins are perhaps proper for the nursery and children's table. if children dine with their parents, they should have a special set of napkins for their use, and some very careful mammas make these with tapes to tie around the youthful necks. it is better in a large family, where there are children, to have heavy and coarse table-linen for every-day use. it is not an economy to buy colored cloths, for they must be washed as often as if they were white, and no color stands the hard usage of the laundry as well as pure white. colored napery is, therefore, the luxury of a well-appointed country house, and has its use in making the breakfast and luncheon table look a little unlike the dinner. never use a parti-colored damask for the dinner-table. those breakfast cloths of pink, or yellow, or light-blue and white, or drab, are very pretty with napkins to match; but after having been washed a few times they become very dull in tint, and are not as agreeable to the eye as white, which grows whiter with every summer's bleaching. ladies who live in the city should try to send all their napery to the country at least once a year, and let it lie on the grass for a good bleaching. it seems to keep cleaner afterwards. for dinner, large and handsome napkins, carefully ironed and folded simply, with a piece of bread inside, should lie at each plate. these should be removed when the fruit course is brought, and with each finger-bowl should be a colored napkin, with which to dry the fingers. pretty little fanciful doyleys are now also put under the finger- bowl, merely to be looked at. embroidered with quaint designs, these little three-inch things are very ornamental; but the real and serviceable doyley should not be forgotten, and may be laid either beside or over the top of the finger-bowl. many ladies are so extravagant that they have a second napkin of small size put on for that part of the dessert which precedes the fruit, but this involves so much trouble to both the guest and the waiter that it is not ordinarily done. the napkins made at berlin, with drawn thread and knotted fringe and lace effects, are very handsome. they are also made at the south kensington schools, and in paris, and by the decorative art society in new york, and are beautifully wrought with monogram and crest in red, white, and blue thread. but no napkin is ever more thoroughly elegant than the very thick, fine, and substantial plain damask, which becomes more pure and smooth every time that it is cleansed. however, as one of our great dinner-givers in new york has ordered twenty-four dozen of the handsome, drawn-thread napkins from one establishment at berlin, we must conclude that they will become the fashion. when breakfast is made a formal meal--that is, when company is invited to come at a stated hour-_-serviettes_, or large dinner- napkins, must be placed at each plate, as for a dinner. but they are never used at a "stand-up" breakfast, nor are doyleys or finger- bowls. if any accident happens, such as the spilling of a glass of wine or the upsetting of a plate, the _d�bris_ should be carefully cleared away, and the waiter should spread a clean napkin over the desecrated table-cloth. large, white napkins are invariably used at luncheon, and the smaller ones kept for breakfast and tea. some ladies like the little, fringed napkins for tea, but to look well these must be very carefully washed and ironed. never fasten your napkin around your neck; lay it across your knees, convenient to the hand, and lift one corner only to wipe the mouth. men who wear a mustache are permitted to "saw" the mouth with the napkin, as if it were a bearing-rein, but for ladies this would look too masculine. napkins at hotels are now folded, in a half-wet condition, into all sorts of shapes: a goose, a swan, a ship, a high boot, are all favorite and fanciful designs; but this is a dirty fashion, requiring the manipulation of hands which are not always fresh, and as the napkin must be damp at the folding, it is not always dry when shaken out. nothing is so unhealthy as a damp napkin; it causes agony to a delicate and nervous lady, a man with the rose-cold, a person with neuralgia or rheumatism, and is offensive to every one. never allow a napkin to be placed on the table until it has been well aired. there is often a conspiracy between the waiter and the laundress in great houses, both wishing to shirk work, the result of which is that the napkins, not prepared at the proper time, are put on the table damp. a house-keeper should have a large chest to contain napery which is not to be used every day. this reserved linen should be washed and aired once a year at least, to keep it from moulding and becoming yellow. our dutch ancestors were very fond of enriching a chest of this kind, and many housewives in new york and albany are to-day using linen brought from holland three hundred years ago. the napery made in ireland has, however, in our day taken the place of that manufactured in other countries. it is good, cheap, and sometimes very handsome, and if it can be bought unadulterated with cotton it will last many years. very little starch should be put in napkins. no one wishes to wipe a delicate lip on a board, and a stiff napkin is very like that commodity. at dinner-parties in england, in the days of william the fourth, a napkin was handed with each plate. as the guest took his plate and new napkin, he allowed the one which he had used to fall to the floor, and when he went away from the table he left a snowy pile of napery behind him. the use of linen for the table is one of the oldest of fashions, the early italian tables were served with such beautiful lace-worked napkins that we cannot equal them to-day. queen elizabeth's napkins were edged with lace made in flanders, and were an important item of expense in her day-book. fringed, embroidered, and colored napkins made of silk are used by chinese and japanese magnates. these articles may be washed, and are restored to their original purity by detergent agents that are unknown to us. the chinese also use little napkins of paper, which are very convenient for luncheon baskets and picnics. one of our correspondents asks us if she should fold her napkin before leaving the table. at a fashionable meal, no. at a social tea or breakfast, yes, if her hostess does so. there is no absolute law on this subject. at a fashionable dinner no one folds his napkin. he lets it drop to the floor, or lays it by the side of his plate unfolded. when the fruit napkin is brought he takes it from the glass plate on which it is laid, and either places it at his right hand or across his knee, and the "illuminated rag," as some wit called the little embroidered doyley, which is not meant for use, is, after having been examined and admired, laid on the table, beside the finger-bowl. these pretty little trifles can serve several times the purpose of ornamenting the finger-bowl. napkins, when laid away in a chest or drawer, should have some pleasant, cleanly herb like lavender or sweet-grass, or the old- fashioned clover, or bags of oriental orris-root, put between them, that they may come to the table smelling of these delicious scents. nothing is more certain to destroy the appetite of a nervous dyspeptic than a napkin that smells of greasy soap. there is a laundry soap now in use which leaves a very unpleasant odor in the linen, and napkins often smell so strongly of it as to take away the desire for food. perhaps the influence of delmonico upon the public has been in nothing more strongly shown than in the effect produced by his always immaculate napery. it was not common in american eating- houses, when he began, to offer clean table-cloths and clean napkins. now no decent diner will submit to any other than a clean napkin. every lady, therefore, who aspires to elegant housekeeping, should remember that she must never allow the same napkin to be put on her table twice. once used, it must be sent to the laundry before it is put on the table again. chapter xlv. servants, their dress and duties. as we read that a west point hotel-keeper has recently dismissed all his waiters who would not shave off their mustaches, we must begin to believe that the heretofore heedless american is considering the appearance of his house and carriage-servants. in the early days of the republic, before thomas jefferson tied his horse's rein to the palings of the fence and sauntered into the capitol to be inaugurated, the aristocrats of the various cities had a livery for their servants. but after such a dash of cold water in the face of established usage by the chief magistrate of the country, many of the old forms and customs of colonial times fell into disuse, and among others the wearing of a livery by serving-men. a constantly declining grade of shabbiness was the result of this, as the driver of the horses wore a coat and hat of the same style as his master, only less clean and new. like many of our american ideas so good in theory, the outcome of this attempt at "liberty, equality, and fraternity," was neither conducive to neatness nor elegance. but so strongly was the prejudice against liveries instilled into the public mind that only seven years ago a gentleman of the most aristocratic circle of aristocratic philadelphia declared that he refrained from having a liveried servant behind his carriage from fear of shocking public opinion. in new york the presence of a large, foreign, social element long ago brought about a revulsion of opinion in this matter, and now most persons who desire a neat, plain, and appropriate style of dress for their coachmen and footmen put them in a livery, for which the master pays. those who are particular in such matters do not allow a waiter or a footman to wear a mustache, and require all men-servants to be clean-shaven, except the coachman, who is permitted to wear whiskers. each must have his hair cut short, and the waiter must wear white gloves while waiting at table or when handing refreshments; even a glass of water on a silver salver must be brought with a gloved hand. many ladies have much trouble in impressing upon their men-servants the necessity for personal neatness. the ordinary attire of a butler is a black dress-coat, with white cravat and white cotton gloves. a waiter who attends the door in a large establishment, and who is one of many servants, is usually in a quiet livery--a frock-coat with brass buttons, and a striped waistcoat. some families affect the scarlet waistcoat for their footman, which, indeed, may be used with very good effect for the negro servant. neatness is indispensable; a slovenly and inattentive servant betrays a slovenly household. yet servants often do their employers great injustice. they are slow to respond to the bell, they give uncivil answers, they deny one person and admit another, they fail to deliver notes, they are insolent, they neglect the orders of the mistress when she is out. we cannot expect perfection in our domestic service, but it is possible, by painstaking and patient teaching, to create a respectable and helpful serving class. servants are very apt to take their tone from their employers--to be civil if they are civil, and insolent if they are insolent. the head of the house is very apt to be copied by his flunkies. one primal law we must mention--a hostess should never reprove her servants in the presence of her guests; it is cruel both to guest and servant, and always shows the hostess in an unamiable light. whatever may go wrong, the lady of the house should remain calm; if she is anguished, who can be happy? we have not here, nominally, that helpful treasure known in england as the parlor-maid. we call her a waitress, and expect her to do all the work of one floor. such a person can be trained by a good housekeeper to be a most admirable servant. she must be told to rise early, to attend to the sweeping of the door-steps, to open the blinds, to light the fires, and to lay the breakfast-table. she must appear in a neat calico dress, white apron and cap, and wait upon the family at breakfast. after breakfast, the gentlemen will expect her to brush their hats, to bring overcoats and overshoes, and to find the umbrellas. she must answer the door-bell as well, so should be nimble-footed and quick-witted. when breakfast is over, she must remove the dishes and wash them, clean the silver, and prepare for the next meal. in well-regulated households there is a day for sweeping, a day for silver cleaning, a clay for mirror-polishing, and another for making bright and neat the fireplaces; but each one of these duties requires a certain share of attention every day. the parlor must be dusted, and the fires attended to, of course, so the parlor-maid, or the waitress, in a large family has much to do. the best girls for this arduous situation are english, but they are very difficult to procure. the germans are not apt to remain long with one family. the best available parlor-maids are irishwomen who have lived some time in this country. a servant often sins from ignorance, therefore time spent in teaching her is not wasted. she should be supplied with such utensils as facilitate work, and one very good house-keeper declares that the virtue of a waitress depends upon an infinity of crash. and there is no doubt that a large supply of towels is a constant suggestion of cleanliness that is a great moral support to a waitress. in these days, when parlors are filled with bric- -brac, a parlor- maid has no time to do laundry-work, except such part of it as may pertain to her personally. the best of all arrangements is to hire a laundress, who will do all the washing of the house. even in a very economical household this has been found to be the best plan, otherwise there is always an unexplained delay when the bell rings. the appearance at the door of a dishevelled maid, with arms covered with soapsuds, is not ornamental. if a cook can be found who will also undertake to do the washing and ironing, it is a better and more satisfactory arrangement. but in our growing prosperity this functionary has assumed new and extraordinary importance, and will do nothing but cook. a young house-keeper beginning her life in a great city finds herself frequently confronted with the necessity of having four servants--a cook, a laundress, a waiter or parlor-maid (sometimes both), and a chamber-maid. none of these excellent auxiliaries is willing to do the other's work: they generally quarrel. so the first experience of house-keeping is not agreeable. but it is possible to find two servants who, if properly trained, will do all the service of a small family, and do it well. the mistress must carefully define the work of each, or else hire them with the understanding that neither shall ever say, "this is not my work." it is sometimes quite impossible to define what is the exact duty of each servant. our house-keeping in this country is so chaotic, and our frequent changes of house and fortune cause it to partake so much of the nature of a provisional government, that every woman must be a louis napoleon, and ready for a _coup d'�tat_ at any moment. the one thing which every lady must firmly demand from her servants is respect. the harassed and troubled american woman who has to cope with the worst servants in the world--the ill-trained, incapable, and vicious peasantry of europe, who come here to be "as good as anybody," and who see that it is easily possible to make a living in america whether they are respectful or not--that woman has a very arduous task to perform. but she must gain at least outward respect by insisting upon having it, and by showing her servants that she regards it as even a greater desideratum than the efficient discharge of duties. the mistress must not lose her temper. she must be calm, imperturbable, and dignified, always. if she gives an order, she must insist, at whatever personal cost, that it shall be obeyed. pertinacity and inflexibility on this point are well bestowed. where there are children, the nurse is, of course, a most important part of the household, and often gives more trouble than any of the other servants, for she is usually an elderly person, impatient of control, and "set in her ways." the mistress must make her obey at once. nurses are only human, and can be made to conform to the rules by which humanity is governed. ladies have adopted for their nurses the french style of dress--dark stuff gowns, white aprons, and caps. french nurses are, indeed, very much the fashion, as it is deemed all-important that children should learn to speak french as soon as they can articulate. but it is so difficult to find a french nurse who will speak the truth that many mothers have renounced the accomplished gaul and hired the anglo- saxon, who is often not more veracious. no doubt there was better service when servants were fewer, and when the mistress looked well after the ways of her household, and performed certain domestic duties herself. in those early days it was she who made the best pastry and sweetmeats. it was she who wrought at the quilting-frame and netted the best bed-curtains. it was she who darned the table-cloth, with a neatness and exactness that made the very imperfection a beauty. it was she who made the currant wine and the blackberry cordial. she knew all the secrets of clear starching, and taught the ignorant how to do their work through her educated intelligence. she had, however, native americans to teach, and not irish, germans, or swedes. now, few native-born americans will become servants, and the difficulties of the mistress are thereby increased. a servant cannot be too carefully taught her duty to visitors. having first ascertained whether her mistress is at home or not, in order to save a lady the trouble of alighting from her carriage, she should answer the ring of the door-bell without loss of time. she should treat all callers with respect and civility, but at the same time she should be able to discriminate between friend and foe, and not unwarily admit those innumerable cheats, frauds, and beggars who, in a respectable garb, force an entrance to one's house for the purpose of theft, or perhaps to sell a cement for broken crockery, or the last thing in hair-dye. conscientious servants who comprehend their duties, and who try to perform them, should, after a certain course of discipline, be allowed to follow their own methods of working. interference and fault-finding injure the temper of an inferior; while suspicion is bad for anybody, and especially operates against the making of a good servant. to assure your servants that you believe them to be honest is to fix in them the habit of honesty. to respect their rights, their hours of recreation, their religion, their feelings, to wish them good- night and good-morning (after the pretty german fashion), to assist them in the writing of their letters and in the proper investment of their earnings, to teach them to read and write and to make their clothes, so that they may be useful to themselves when they leave servitude--all this is the pleasurable duty of a good mistress, and such a course makes good servants. all ignorant natures seek a leader; all servants like to be commanded by a strong, honest, fair, judicious mistress. they seek her praise; they fear her censure, not as slaves dread the whip of the tyrant, but as soldiers respect their superior officer. bad temper, injustice, and tyranny make eye-service, but not heart- service. irresolute persons who do not know their own minds, and cannot remember their own orders, make very poor masters and mistresses. it is better that they should give up the business of house-keeping, and betake themselves to the living in hotels or boarding-houses with which our english cousins taunt us, little knowing that the nomadic life they condemn is the outcome of their own failure to make good citizens of those offscourings of jail and poorhouse and irish shanty which they send to us under the guise of domestic servants. familiarity with servants always arouses their contempt; a mistress can be kind without being familiar. she must remember that the servant looks up to her over the great gulf of a different condition of life and habit--over the great gulf of ignorance, and that, in the order of nature, she should respect not only the person in authority, but the being, as superior to herself. this salutary influence is thrown away if the mistress descend to familiarity and intimacy. certain weak mistresses vary their attitude towards their servants, first assuming a familiarity of manner which is disgusting, and which the servant does not mistake for kindness, and then a tyrannical severity which is as unreasonable as the familiarity, and, like it, is only a spasm of an ill-regulated mind. servants should wear thin shoes in the house, and be told to step lightly, not to slam doors, or drop china, or to rattle forks and spoons. a quiet servant is the most certain of domestic blessings. neatness, good manners, and faithfulness have often insured a stupid servant of no great efficiency a permanent home with a family. if to these qualities be added a clear head, an active body, and a respectful manner, we have that rare article--a perfect servant. chapter xlvi. the house with one servant. many large families in this country employ but one servant. although when life was simpler it was somewhat easier than it is now to conduct a house with such assistance as may be offered by a maid-of- all-work, it was necessary even then for the ladies of the house to do some portion of the lighter domestic work. it is a very good plan, when there are several daughters in the family, to take turns each to test her talent as a house-keeper and organizer. if, however, the mistress keep the reins in her own hands, she can detail one of these young ladies to sweep and dust the parlors, another to attend to the breakfast dishes, another to make sure that the maid has not neglected any necessary cleansing of the bedrooms. a mother with young children must have a thoroughly defined and understood system for the daily work to render it possible for one servant to perform it all. the maid must rise very early on monday morning, and do some part of the laundry work before breakfast. many old american servants (when there were such) put the clothes in water to soak, and sometimes to boil, on sunday night, that night not having the religious significance in new england that saturday night had. nowadays, however, irish girls expect to have a holiday every other sunday afternoon and evening, and it would probably be vain to expect this service of them. but at least they should rise by five o'clock, and do two hours' good work before it is time to prepare the breakfast and lay the table. a neat-handed phyllis will have a clean gown, cap, and apron hanging in the kitchen closet, and slip them on before she carries in the breakfast, which she has cooked and must serve. some girls show great tact in this matter of appearing neat at the right time, but many of them have to be taught by the mistress to have a clean cap and apron in readiness. the mistress usually furnishes these items of her maid's attire, and they should be the property of the mistress, and remain in the family through all changes of servants. they can be bought at almost any repository conducted in the interest of charity for less than they can be made at home, and a dozen of them in a house greatly improves the appearance of the servants. the cook, having prepared the breakfast and waited at table, places in front of her mistress a neat, wooden tub, with a little cotton- yarn mop and two clean towels, and then retreats to the kitchen with the heavy dishes and knives and forks. the lady proceeds to wash the glass, silver, and china, draining the things on a waiter, and wiping them on her dainty linen towels. it is not a disagreeable operation, and all gentlemen say they like to eat and drink from utensils which have been washed by a lady. having put away the glass and china, the lady shakes the table- cloth, folds it, and puts it away. she then takes a light brush broom and sweeps the dining-room, and dusts it carefully, opening a window to air the apartment. when this is done she sets the parlor in order. the maid-of-all-work should, in the mean time, make a visit to the bedrooms, and do the heavy work of turning mattresses and making beds. when this is accomplished she must return to the kitchen, and after carefully cleaning the pots and kettles that have been in use for the morning meal, devote an undivided attention to her arduous duties as laundress. a plain dinner for washing-day--a beefsteak and some boiled potatoes, a salad, and a pie or pudding made on the preceding saturday--is all that should be required of a maid-of-all-work on monday. the afternoon must be spent in finishing the washing, hanging out the clothes, and preparing the tea--an easy and informal meal, which should consist of something easy to cook; for, after all that she has done during the day, this hard-worked girl must "tidy up" her kitchen before she can enjoy a well-earned repose. it is so annoying to a maid-of-all-work to be obliged to open the door for visitors that ladies often have a little girl or boy for this purpose. in the country it can be more easily managed. tuesday is ironing-day all over the world, and the maid must be assisted in this time of emergency by her mistress. most ladies understand the process of clear starching and the best method of ironing fine clothing; if they do not, they should. in fact, a good house-keeper should know everything; and when a lady gives her attention to this class of household duties she is invariably more successful in performing them than a person of less education and intelligence. on wednesday the maid must bake a part of the bread, cake, and pies that will be required during the week. in this the mistress helps, making the light pastry, stoning the raisins, washing the currants, and beating the eggs. very often a lady fond of cookery makes all her dainty dishes, her desserts, and her cakes and pies. she should help herself with all sorts of mechanical appliances. she should have the best of egg-beaters, sugar-sifters, bowls in plenty, and towels and aprons _ad libitum_. she has, if she be a systematic house-keeper, a store closet, which is her pride, with its neat, labelled spice-boxes, and its pots of pickles and preserves which she has made herself, and which, therefore, must be nice. the cooking of meat is a thing which so affects the health of people that every lady should study it thoroughly. no roasts should be baked. the formulary sounds like a contradiction; but it is the custom in houses where the necessity of saving labor is an important consideration, to put the meat that should be roasted in the oven and bake it. this is very improper, as it dries up all the juice, which is the life-giving, life-sustaining property of the meat. let every young house-keeper buy a dutch oven, and either roast the meat before the coals of a good wood fire, or before the grating of a range, in which coals take the place of wood. by this method she saves those properties of a piece of roast beef which are the most valuable. otherwise her roast meat will be a chip, a tasteless and a dry morsel, unpalatable and indigestible. the cooking of vegetables is also to be studied; potatoes should not be over-boiled or underdone, as they are exceedingly unhealthy if not properly cooked. bread must be well kneaded and delicately baked; a woman who understands the uses of fire--and every householder should--has stolen the secret of prometheus. on thursday the maid must sweep the house thoroughly, if there are heavy carpets, as this is work for the strong-armed and the strong- handed. the mistress can follow with the dusting-brush and the cloth, and, again, the maid may come in her footstep with step- ladder, and wipe off mirrors and windows. many ladies have a different calendar from this, and prefer to have their work done on different days; but whatever may be the system for the management of a house, it should be strictly carried out, and all the help that may accrue from punctuality and order rendered to a maid in the discharge of her arduous and multifarious duties. most families have a sort of general house-cleaning on friday: floors are scrubbed and brasses cleaned, the silver given a better cleansing, and the closets examined, the knives are scoured more thoroughly, and the lady puts her linen-closet in order, throwing sweet lavender between the sheets. on saturday more bread and cake are baked, the sunday's dinner prepared, that the maid may have her sunday afternoon out, and the busy week is ended with a clean kitchen, a well-swept and garnished house, and all the cooking done except the sunday meat and vegetables. to conduct the business of a house through the week, with three meals each day, and all the work well done; by one maid, is a very creditable thing to the mistress. the "order which is heaven's first law" must be her chief help in this difficult matter; she must be willing to do much of the light work herself, and she must have a young, strong, willing maid. chapter xlvii. the house with two servants. the great problem of the young or middle-aged house-keeper in large cities is how to form a neat, happy, comfortable home, and so to order the house that two servants can accomplish all its work. these two servants we call the cook and the waiter, and they must do all that there is to do, including the washing. when life was simpler, this was done without murmuring; but now it is difficult to find good and trained servants, particularly in new york, who will fill such places. for to perform the work of a family--to black the boots, sweep and wash the sidewalk, attend the door and lay the table, help with the washing and ironing, and make the fires, as well as sweep and dust, and take care of the silver-- would seem to require the hands of briareus. it is better to hire a girl "for general house-work," and train her for her work as waitress, than to take one who has clone nothing else but wait at table. be particular, when engaging a girl, to tell her what she has to do, as many of the lofty kind object particularly to blacking boots; and as it must be done, it is better to define it at once. a girl filling this position should have, first, the advantage of system, and the family must keep regular hours. she must rise at six, or earlier, if necessary, open the front-door and parlor- blinds, and the dining-room windows, and then proceed to cleanse the front steps and sidewalk, polish the bell-pull, and make all tidy about the mats. she must next make the fires, if fires are used in the house, and carry down the ashes, carefully depositing them where they will not communicate fire. she must then gather the boots and shoes from the doors of the sleeping-rooms, and take them to the laundry, where she should brush them, having a closet there for her brushes and blacking. having replaced the boots beside the respective doors to which they belong, she should make herself neat and clean, put on her cap and apron, and then prepare for laying the table for breakfast. this she does not do until she has brushed up the floor, caused the fire to burn brightly, and in all respects made the dining-room respectable. the laying of the table must be a careful and neat operation; a clean cloth should be put on, with the fold regularly running down the middle of the table, the silver and glass and china placed neatly and in order, the urn-lamp lighted, and the water put to boil, the napkins fresh and well-folded, and the chairs drawn up in order on either side. it is well worth a mistress's while to preside at this work for two or three mornings, to see that her maid understands her wishes. all being in order, the maid may ring a bell, or knock at the doors, or rouse the family as they may wish. when breakfast is over she removes the dishes, and washes the silver and china in the pantry. after putting everything away, and opening a window in the dining- room, she proceeds to the bedrooms. every one should, before leaving his bedroom, open a window and turn back the clothes, to air the room and the bed thoroughly. if this has been neglected, it is the servant's business to do it, and to make the beds, wash the basins, and leave everything very clean. she must also dust the bureaus and tables and chairs, hang up the dresses, put away the shoes, and set everything in order. she then descends to the parlor floor, and makes it neat, and thence to the kitchen, where, if she has time, she does a little washing; but if there is to be luncheon or early dinner, she cannot do much until that is prepared, particularly if it is her duty to answer a bell. in a doctor's house, or in a house where there are many calls, some one to attend exclusively at the door is almost indispensable. after the early dinner or lunch, the maid has a few hours' washing and ironing before getting ready for the late dinner or tea, which is the important meal of the day. if she is systematic, and the family are punctual, a girl can do a great deal of washing and ironing on monday, tuesday, and wednesday, even if she has to answer the bell; but if she is not systematic, and the meals are not at regular hours, she cannot do much. on thursday, which we have already designated as sweeping day, she must sweep the whole house, all the carpets, shake the rugs in the back yard, shake and sweep down the heavy curtains, and dust the mirror-frames with a long feather-duster. the mistress can help her by insisting that her family shall leave their rooms early, and by herself refusing to see visitors on sweeping day. on friday, in addition to the usual daily work, the silver must be polished, the brass rubbed, and the closets (which, in the hurry of the week's work, may have been neglected), carefully cleaned and ventilated, on friday afternoon the napkins and towels should be washed. on saturday these should be ironed, and everything, so far as possible, made ready for sunday. the cook, meantime, should rise even earlier than the waiter; should descend in time to receive the milkman, the iceman, and the breadman; should unlock the basement-door, sweep out the hall, and take in the barrels which have been left out with the ashes and other refuse. a cook should be instructed never to give away the beef-dripping, as, if clarified in cold water, it is excellent for frying oysters, etc., and saves butter. the cook should air the kitchen and laundry, build the fire in the range, and sweep carefully before she begins to cook. a careful house-keeper takes care that her cook shall make her toilet in her room, _not_ in the kitchen. particularly should she be made to arrange her hair upstairs, as some cooks have an exceedingly nasty habit of combing their hair in the kitchen. it will repay a house-keeper to make several visits to the kitchen at unexpected hours. cooks vary so decidedly in their way of preparing meals that no general directions can be given; but the best should be made to follow certain rules, and the worst should be watched and guarded. a great cleanliness as to pots and kettles, particularly the teakettle, should be insisted upon, and the closets, pails, barrels, etc., be carefully watched. many a case of typhoid fever can be traced to the cook's slop-pail, or closets, or sink, and no lady should be careless of looking into all these places. a cook, properly trained, can get up a good breakfast out of remains of the dinner of the preceding day, or some picked-up cod-fish, toast, potatoes sliced and fried, or mashed, boiled, stewed, or baked. the making of good clear coffee is not often understood by the green irish cook. the mistress must teach her this useful art, and also how to make good tea, although the latter is generally made on the table. with the sending up of the breakfast comes the first chance of a collision between cook and waiter; and disagreeable, bad-tempered servants make much of this opportunity. the cook in city houses puts the dinner on the dumb-waiter and sends it up to the waiter, who takes it off. all the heavy meat-dishes and the greasy plates are sent down to the cook to wash, and herein lies many a grievance which the mistress can anticipate and prevent by forbidding the use of the dumb-waiter if it leads to quarrelling, and by making the maids carry all the plates and dishes up and down. this course of treatment will soon cure them of their little tempers. in plain households the cook has much less to do than the waiter; she should therefore undertake the greater part of the washing and ironing. many very good cooks will do all the washing and ironing except the table linen and the towels used by the waiter; and if this arrangement is made at first, no trouble ensues. the great trouble in most households comes from the fact that the work is not definitely divided, and that one servant declares that the other is imposing upon her. if a mistress is fair, honorable, strict, and attentive, she can thus carry on a large household (if there are no young children) with two energetic servants. she cannot, of course, have elegant house-keeping; it is a very arduous undertaking to conduct a city house with the assistance of only two people. many young house- keepers become discouraged, and many old ones do so as well, and send the washing and ironing to a public laundry. but as small incomes are the rule, and as most people must economize, it has been done, and it can be done. the mistress will find it to her advantage to have a very great profusion of towels and dusters, and also to supply the kitchen with every requisite utensil for cooking a good dinner, or for the execution of the ordinary daily work--such tools as an ice-hammer, a can-opener, plenty of corkscrews, a knife- sharpener and several large, strong knives, a meat-chopper and bread-baskets, stone pots and jars. the modern refrigerator has simplified kitchen-work very much, and no one who has lived long enough to remember when it was not used can fail to bless its airy and cool closets and its orderly arrangements. the "privileges" of these hard-worked servants should be respected. "an evening a week, and every other sunday afternoon," is a formula not to be forgotten. consider what it is to them! perhaps a visit to a sick sister or mother, a recreation much needed, a simple pleasure, but one which is to them what a refreshing book, a visit to the opera, or a drive in the park, is to their employers. only a very cruel mistress will ever fail to keep her promise to a faithful servant on these too infrequent holidays. the early sunday dinner is an inconvenience, but it is due to the girls who count on their "sunday out" to have it always punctually given to them. many devout catholics make their church-going somewhat inconvenient, but they should not be thwarted in it. it is to them something more than it is to protestants, and a devout catholic is to be respected and believed in. no doubt there are very bad-tempered and disagreeable girls who make a pretence of religion, but the mistress should be slow to condemn, lest she wrong one who is sincerely pious. in sickness, irish girls are generally kind and accommodating, being themselves unselfish, and are apt to show a better spirit in a time of trouble than the swedes, the germans, or the scotch, although the latter are possessed of more intelligence, and are more readily trained to habits of order and system. the warm heart and the confused brain, the want of truth, of the average irish servant will perplex and annoy while it touches the sympathies of a woman of generous spirit. the women who would make the best house-servants are new england girls who have been brought up in poor but comfortable homes. but they will not be servants. they have imbibed the foolish idea that the position of a girl who does house-work is inferior in gentility to that of one who works in a factory, or a printing-office, or a milliner's shop. it is a great mistake, and one which fills the country with incapable wives for the working-man; for a woman who cannot make bread or cook a decent dinner is a fraud if she marry a poor man who expects her to do it. that would be a good and a great woman who would preach a crusade against this false doctrine--who would say to the young women of her neighborhood, "i will give a marriage portion to any of you who will go into domestic service, become good cooks and waiters, and will bring me your certificates of efficiency at the end of five years." and if those who employ could have these clear brains and thrifty hands, how much more would they be willing to give in dollars and cents a month! chapter xlviii. the house with many servants. a lady who assumes the control of an elegant house without previous training had better, for a year at least, employ an english house- keeper, who will teach her the system necessary to make so many servants work properly together; for, unless she knows how to manage them, each servant will be a trouble instead of a help, and there will be no end to that exasperating complaint, "that is not _my_ work." the english house-keeper is given full power by her mistress to hire and discharge servants, to arrange their meals, their hours, and their duties, so as to make the domestic wheels run smoothly, and to achieve that perfection of service which all who have stayed in an english house can appreciate. she is a personage of much importance in the house. she generally dresses in _moire antique_, and is lofty in her manners. she alone, except the maid, approaches the mistress, and receives such general orders as that lady may choose to give. the house-keeper has her own room, where she takes her meals alone, or invites those whom she wishes to eat with her. thus we see in english novels that the children sometimes take tea "in the house- keeper's room." it is generally a comfortable and snug place. but in this country very few such house-keepers can be found. the best that can be done is to secure the services of an efficient person content to be a servant herself, who will be a care-taker, and will train the butler, the footmen, and the maid-servants in their respective duties. twelve servants are not infrequently employed in large houses in this country, and in new york and at newport often a larger number. these, with the staff of assistants required to cook and wash for them, form a large force for a lady to control. the house-keeper should hire the cook and scullery-maid, and be responsible for them; she orders the dinner (if the lady chooses); she gives out the stores; the house linen is under her charge, and she must attend to mending and replenishing it; she must watch over the china and silver, and every day visit all the bedrooms to see that the chamber-maids have done their duty, and that writing-paper and ink and pens are laid on the tables of invited guests, and that candles, matches, and soap and towels are in their respective places. a house-keeper should be able to make fine desserts, and to attend to all the sewing of the family, with the assistance of a maid--that is, the mending, and the hemming of the towels, etc. she should be firm and methodical, with a natural habit of command, and impartial in her dealings, but strict and exacting; she should compel each servant to do his duty, as she represents the mistress, and should be invested with her authority. it is she who must receive the dessert when it comes from the dining-room, watch the half-emptied bottles of wine, which men- servants nearly always appropriate for their own use, and be, in all respects, a watch-dog for her master, as in large families servants are prone to steal all that may fall in their way. unfortunately a bad house-keeper is worse than none, and can steal to her heart's content. such a one, hired by a careless, pleasure- loving lady in new york, stole in a twelvemonth enough to live on for several years. the house-keeper and the butler are seldom friends, and consequently many people consider it wise to hire a married couple competent to perform the duties of these two positions. if the two are honest, this is an excellent arrangement. the butler is answerable for the property put in his charge, and for the proper performance of the duties of the footmen under his control. he must be the judge of what men can and should do. he is given the care of the wine, although every gentleman should keep the keys, only giving just so much to the butler as he intends shall be used each day. the plate is given to the butler, and he is made responsible for any articles missing; he also sees to the pantry, but has a maid or a footman to wash the dishes and cleanse the silver. all the arrangements for dinner devolve upon him, and when it is served he stands behind his mistress's chair. he looks after the footman who answers the bell, and takes care that he shall be properly dressed and at his post. in houses where there are two or three footmen the butler serves breakfast, luncheon, tea, and dinner, assisted by such of his acolytes as he may choose. he should also wait upon his master, if required, see that the library and smoking-room are aired and in order, the newspaper brought in, the magazines cut, and the paper- knife in its place. many gentlemen in this country send their butlers to market, and leave entirely to them the arrangement of the table. if there is but one footman in a large house, the butler has a great deal to do, particularly if the family be a hospitable one. when the footman is out with the carriage the butler answers the front-door bell, but in very elegant houses there are generally two footmen, as this is not strictly the duty of a butler. a lady's-maid is indispensable to ladies who visit much, but this class of servant is the most difficult to manage. ladies'-maids must be told, when hired, that they can have no such position in america as they have in england: that they must make their own beds, wash their own clothing, and eat with the other servants. they must be first-rate hair-dressers, good packers of trunks, and understand dress-making and fine starching, and be amiable, willing, and pleasant. a woman who combines these qualifications commands very high wages, and expects, as her perquisite, her mistress's cast-off dresses. french maids are in great demand, as they have a natural taste in all things pertaining to dress and the toilet, but they are apt to be untruthful and treacherous. if a lady can get a peasant girl from some rural district, she will find her a most useful and valuable maid after she has been taught. many ladies educate some clever girl who has been maid for the position of house-keeper, and such a person, who can be trusted to hire an assistant, becomes invaluable. she often accomplishes all the dress-making and sewing for the household, and her salary of thirty dollars a month is well earned. as the duties of a lady's-maid, where there are young ladies, include attending them in the streets and to parties, she should be a person of unquestioned respectability. the maid should bring up the hot water for her ladies, and an early cup of tea, prepare their bath, assist at their toilet, put their clothes away, be ready to aid in every change of dress, put out their various dresses for riding, dining, walking, and for afternoon tea, dress their hair for dinner, and be ready to find for them their gloves, shoes, and other belongings. a maid can be, and generally is, the most disagreeable of creatures; but some ladies have the tact to make good servants out of most unpromising materials. the maid, if she does not accompany her mistress to a party and wait for her in the dressing-room, should await her arrival at home, assist her to undress, comb and brush her hair, and get ready the bath. she should also have a cup of hot tea or chocolate in readiness for her. she must keep her clothes in order, sew new ruffles in her dresses, and do all the millinery and dress-making required of her. very often the maid is required to attend to the bric- -brac and pretty ornaments of the mantel, to keep fresh flowers in the drawing-room or bedroom, and, above all, to wash the pet dog. as almost all women are fond of dogs, this is not a disagreeable duty to a french maid, and she gives fifine his bath without grumbling. but if she be expected to speak french to the children, she sometimes rebels, particularly if she and the nurse should not be good friends. a lady, in hiring a maid, should specify the extra duties she will be required to perform, and thus give her the option of refusing the situation. if she accepts it, she must be made strictly to account for any neglect or omission of her work. a maid with an indulgent mistress is free in the evenings, after eight o'clock, and every sunday afternoon. in families where there are many children, two nurses are frequently required--a head nurse and an assistant. the nursery governess is much oftener employed now in this country than in former years. this position is often filled by well-mannered and well-educated young women, who are the daughters of poor men, and obliged to earn their own living. these young women, if they are good and amiable, are invaluable to their mistresses. they perform the duties of a nurse, wash and dress the children, eat with them and teach them, the nursery-maid doing the coarse, rough work of the nursery. if a good nursery governess can be found, she is worth her weight in gold to her employer. she should not cat with the servants; there should be a separate table for her and her charges. this meal is prepared by the kitchen-maid, who is a very important functionary, almost an under-cook, as the chief cook in such an establishment as we are describing is absorbed in the composition of the grand dishes and dinners. the kitchen-maid should be a good plain-cook, and clever in making the dishes suitable for children. much of the elementary cooking for the dining-room, such as the foundation for sauces and soups, and the roasted and boiled joints, is required of her, and she also cooks the servants' dinner, which should be an entirely different meal from that served in the dining-room. nine meals a day are usually cooked in a family living in this manner--breakfast for servants, children, and the master and mistress, three; children's dinner, servants' dinner, and luncheon, another three; and the grand dinner at seven, the children's tea, and the servants' supper, the remaining three. where two footmen are in attendance, the head footman attends the door, waits on his mistress when she drives out, carries notes, assists the butler, lays the table and clears it, and washes glass, china, and silver. the under-footman rises at six, makes fires, cleans boots, trims and cleans the lamps, opens the shutters and the front-door, sweeps down the steps, and, indeed, does the rougher part of the work before the other servants begin their daily duties. each should be without mustache, clean shaven, and clad in neat livery. his linen and white neck-tie should be, when he appears to wait on the family at table or in any capacity, immaculate. the servants' meals should be punctual and plenteous, although not luxurious. it is a bad plan to feed servants on the luxuries of the master's table, but a good cook will be able to compound dishes for the kitchen that will be savory and palatable. chapter xlix. manners.--a study for the awkward and the shy. it is a comfort to those of us who have felt the cold perspiration start on the brow, at the prospect of entering an unaccustomed sphere, to remember that the best men and women whom the world has known have been, in their day, afflicted with shyness. indeed, it is to the past that we must refer when the terrible disease seizes us, when the tongue becomes dry in the mouth, the hands tremble, and the knees knock together. who does not pity the trembling boy when, on the evening of his first party, he succumbs to this dreadful malady? the color comes in spots on his face, and his hands are cold and clammy. he sits down on the stairs and wishes he were dead. a strange sensation is running down his back. "come, peter, cheer up," his mother says, not daring to tell him how she sympathizes with him. he is afraid to be afraid, he is ashamed to be ashamed. nothing can equal this moment of agony. the whole room looks black before him as some chipper little girl, who knows not the meaning of the word "embarrassment," comes to greet him. he crawls off to the friendly shelter of a group of boys, and sees the "craven of the playground, the dunce of the school," with a wonderful self-possession, lead off in the german with the prettiest girl. as he grows older, and becomes the young man whose duty it is to go to dinners and afternoon parties, this terrible weakness will again overcome him. he has done well at college, can make a very good speech at the club suppers, but at the door of a parlor he feels himself a drivelling idiot. he assumes a courage, if he has it not, and dashes into a room (which is full of people) as he would attack a forlorn hope. there is safety in numbers, and he retires to a corner. when he goes to a tea-party a battery of feminine eyes gazes at him with a critical perception of his youth and rawness. knowing that he ought to be supremely graceful and serene, he stumbles over a footstool, and hears a suppressed giggle. he reaches his hostess, and wishes she were the "cannon's mouth," in order that his sufferings might be ended; but she is not. his agony is to last the whole evening. tea-parties are eternal: they never end; they are like the old-fashioned ideas of a future state of torment--they grow hotter and more stifling. as the evening advances towards eternity he upsets the cream-jug. he summons all his will-power, or he would run away. no; retreat is impossible. one must die at the post of duty. he thinks of all the formulas of courage--"none but the brave deserve the fair," "he either fears his fate too much, or his deserts are small," "there is no such coward as self-consciousness," etc. but these maxima are of no avail. his feet are feet of clay, not good to stand on, only good to stumble with. his hands are cold, tremulous, and useless. there is a very disagreeable feeling in the back of his neck, and a spinning sensation about the brain. a queer rumbling seizes his ears. he has heard that "conscience makes cowards of us all." what mortal sin has he committed? his moral sense answers back, "none. you are only that poor creature, a bashful youth." and he bravely calls on all his nerves, muscles, and brains to help him through this ordeal. he sees the pitying eyes of the woman to whom he is talking turn away from his countenance (on which he knows that all his miserable shyness has written itself in legible characters). "and this humiliation, too?" he asks of himself, as she brings him the usual refuge of the awkward--a portfolio of photographs to look at. women are seldom troubled, at the age at which men suffer, with bashfulness or awkwardness. it is as if nature thus compensated the weaker vessel. cruel are those women, however, and most to be reprobated, who laugh at a bashful man! the sufferings of a shy man would fill a volume. it is a nervous seizure for which no part of his organization is to blame; he cannot reason it away, he can only crush it by enduring it: "to bear is to conquer our fate." some men, finding the play not worth the candle, give up society and the world; others go on, suffer, and come out cool veterans who fear no tea-party, however overwhelming it may be. it is the proper province of parents to have their children taught all the accomplishments of the body, that they, like the ancient greeks, may know that every muscle will obey the brain. a shy, awkward boy should be trained in dancing, fencing, boxing; he should be instructed in music, elocution, and public speaking; he should be sent into society, whatever it may cost him at first, as certainly as he should be sent to the dentist's. his present sufferings may save him from lifelong annoyance. to the very best men--the most learned, the most graceful, the most eloquent, the most successful--has come at some one time or other the dreadful agony of bashfulness. indeed, it is the higher order of man being that it most surely attacks; it is the precursor of many excellences, and, like the knight's vigil, if patiently and bravely borne, the knight is twice the hero. it is this recollection, which can alone assuage the sufferer, that he should always carry with him. he should remember that the compound which he calls himself is of all things most mixed. "the web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together." two antagonistic races--it may be his grandfather brown and his grandmother williams--are struggling in him for the mastery; and their exceedingly opposite natures are pulling his arms and legs asunder. he has to harmonize this antagonism before he becomes himself, and it adds much to his confusion to see that poor little pretender, tom titmouse, talking and laughing and making merry. there are, however, no ancestral diversities fighting for the possession of tom titmouse. the grandfathers and grandmothers of tom titmouse were not people of strong character; they were a decorous race on both sides, with no heavy intellectual burdens, good enough people who wore well. but does our bashful man know this? no. he simply remembers a passage in the "odyssey" which tom titmouse could not construe, but which the bashful man read, to the delight of the tutor: "o gods! how beloved he is, and how honored by all men to whatsoever land or city he comes! he brings much booty from troy, but we, having accomplished the same journey, are returning home having empty hands!" and this messenger from troy is tom titmouse! not that all poor scholars and inferior men have fine manners, nor do all good scholars and superior men fail in the drawing-room. no rule is without an exception. it is, however, a comfort to those who are awkward and shy to remember that many of the great and good and superior men who live in history have suffered, even as they suffer, from the pin-pricks of bashfulness. the first refuge of the inexperienced, bashful person is often to assume a manner of extreme hauteur. this is, perhaps, a natural fence--or defence; it is, indeed, a very convenient armor, and many a woman has fought her battle behind it through life. no doubt it is the armor of the many so-called frigid persons, male and female, who must either suffer the pangs of bashfulness, or affect a coldness which they do not feel. some people are naturally encased in a column of ice which they cannot break, but within is a fountain which would burst out at the lips in words of kindliness if only the tongue could speak them. these limitations of nature are very strange; we cannot explain them. it is only by referring to grandfather brown and grandmother williams again that we understand them at all. one person will be furnished with very large feet and very small hands, with a head disproportionately large for the body, or one as remarkably small. differences of race must account for these eccentricities of nature; we cannot otherwise explain them, nor the mental antagonisms, but the awkward and the shy do not always take refuge in a cold manner; sometimes they study manner as they would the small-sword exercise, and exploit it-with equal fervor. exaggeration of manner is quite as common a refuge for these unfortunates as the other extreme of calmness. they render themselves ridiculous by the lowness of their bows and the vivid picturesqueness of their speech. they, as it were, burst the bounds of the calyx, and the flower opens too wide. symmetry is lost, graceful outline is destroyed. many a bashful man, thinking of tom titmouse, has become an acrobat in his determination to be lively and easy. he should remember the _juste milieu_, recommended by shakespeare when he says, "they are as sick that surfeit with too much. as they that starve with nothing." the happy people who are born unconscious of their bodies, who grow through life more and more graceful, easy, cordial, and agreeable; the happy few who were never bashful, never nervous, never had clammy hands, they need not read these pages--they are not written for such blessed eyes. it is for the well-meaning, but shy and awkward, people that the manners of artificial society are most useful. for the benefit of such persons we must "improve a ceremonial nicety into a substantial duty," else we shall see a cultivated scholar confused before a set of giggling girls, and a man who is all wisdom, valor and learning, playing the donkey at an evening party. if he lack the inferior arts of polite behavior, who will take the trouble to discover a sir walter raleigh behind his cravat? a man who is constrained, uneasy, and ungraceful, can spoil the happiness of a dozen people. therefore he is bound to create an artificial manner, if a natural one does not come to him, remembering always that "manners are shadows of virtues." the manners of artificial society have this to commend them: they meditate the greatest good to the greatest number. we do not like the word "artificial," or to commend anything which is supposed to be the antipodes of the word "sincere," but it is a recipe, a doctor's prescription that we are recommending as a cure for a disease. "good manners are to special societies what good morals are to society in general--their cement and their security. true politeness creates perfect ease and freedom; it and its essence is to treat others as you would have others treat you." therefore, as you know how embarrassing embarrassment is to everybody else, strive not to be embarrassed. chapter l. how to treat a guest. no one possessed of his senses would invite a person to his country house for the purpose of making him unhappy. at least so we should say at first thought. but it is an obvious fact that very many guests are invited to the country houses of their friends, and are made extremely miserable while there. they have to rise at unusual hours, eat when they are not hungry, drive or walk or play tennis when they would prefer to do everything else, and they are obliged to give up those hours which are precious to them for other duties or pleasures; so that many people, after an experience of visiting, are apt to say, "no more of the slavery of visiting for me, if you please!" now the english in their vast country houses have reduced the custom of visiting and receiving their friends to a system. they are said to be in all respects the best hosts in the world, the masters of the letting-alone system. a man who owns a splendid place near london invites a guest for three days or more, and carefully suggests when he shall come and when he shall go--a very great point in hospitality. he is invited to come by the three o'clock train on monday, and to leave by the four o'clock train on thursday. that means that he shall arrive before dinner on monday, and leave after luncheon on thursday. if a guest cannot accede to these hours, he must write and say so. once arrived, he rarely meets his host or hostess until dinner-time. he is conducted to his room, a cup of tea with some light refreshment is provided, and the well-bred servant in attendance says at what hour before dinner he will be received in the drawing-room. it is possible that some member of the family may be disengaged and may propose a drive before dinner, but this is not often done; the guest is left to himself or herself until dinner. general and mrs. grant were shown to their rooms at windsor castle, and locked up there, when they visited the queen, until the steward came to tell them that dinner would be served in half an hour; they were then conducted to the grand salon, where the queen presently entered. in less stately residences very much the same ceremony is observed. the hostess, after dinner and before the separation for the night, tells her guests that horses will be at their disposal the next morning, and also asks if they would like to play lawn- tennis, if they wish to explore the park, at what hour they will breakfast, or if they will breakfast in their rooms. "luncheon is at one; and she will be happy to see them at that informal meal." thus the guest has before him the enviable privilege of spending the day as he pleases. he need not talk unless he choose; he may take a book and wander off under the trees; he may take a horse and explore the county, or he may drive in a victoria, phaeton, or any other sort of carriage. to a lady who has her letters to write, her novel to read, or her early headache to manage, this liberty is precious. it must also be said that no one is allowed to feel neglected in an english house. if a lady guest says, "i am a stranger; i should like to see your fine house and your lovely park," some one is found to accompany her. seldom the hostess, for she has much else to do; but there is often a single sister, a cousin, or a very intelligent governess, who is summoned. in our country we cannot offer our guests all these advantages; we can, however, offer them their freedom, and give them, with our limited hospitality, their choice of hours for breakfast and their freedom from our society. but the questioner may ask, why invite guests, unless we wish to see them? we do wish to see them--a part of the day, not the whole day. no one can sit and talk all day. the hostess should have her privilege of retiring after the mid-day meal, with her novel, for a nap, and so should the guest: well-bred people understand all this, and are glad to give up the pleasure of social intercourse for an hour of solitude. there is nothing so sure to repay one in the long run as these quiet hours. if a lady invites another to visit her at newport or saratoga, she should evince her thought for her guest's comfort by providing her with horses and carriage to pay her own visits, to take her own drives, or to do her shopping. of course, the pleasure of two friends is generally to be together, and to do the same things; but sometimes it is quite the reverse. the tastes and habits of two people staying in the same house may be very different, and each should respect the peculiarities of the other. it costs little time and no money for an opulent newport hostess to find out what her guest wishes to do with her day, and she can easily, with a little tact, allow her to be happy in her own way. gentlemen understand this much better than ladies, and a gentleman guest is allowed to do very much as he pleases at newport. no one asks anything about his plans for the day, except if he will dine at home. his hostess may ask him to drive or ride with her, or to go to the casino, perhaps; but if she be a well-bred woman of the world she will not be angry if he refuses. a lady guest has not, however, such freedom; she is apt to be a slave, from the fact that as yet the american hostess has not learned that the truest hospitality is to let her guest alone, and to allow her to enjoy herself in her own way. a thoroughly well-bred guest makes no trouble in a house; she has the instinct of a lady, and is careful that no plan of her hostess shall be disarranged by her presence. she mentions all her, separate invitations, desires to know when her hostess wishes her presence, if the carriage can take her hither and yon, or if she may be allowed to hire a carriage. there are hostesses, here and in england, who do not invite guests to their houses for the purpose of making them happy, but to add to their own importance. such hostesses are not apt to consider the individual rights of any one, and they use a guest merely to add to the brilliancy of their parties, and to make the house more fashionable and attractive. some ill-bred women, in order to show their power, even insult and ill treat the people who have accepted their proffered hospitality. this class of hostess is, fortunately, not common, but it is not unknown. a hostess should remember that, when she asks people to visit her, she has two very important duties to perform--one, not to neglect her guests; the other, not to weary them by too much attention. never give a guest the impression that he is "being entertained," that he is on your mind; follow the daily life of your household and of your duties as you desire, taking care that your guest is never in an unpleasant position or neglected. if you have a tiresome guest who insists upon following you around and weighing heavily on your hands, be firm, go to your own room, and lock the door. if you have a sulky guest who looks bored, throw open the library-door, order the carriage, and make your own escape. but if you have a very agreeable guest who shows every desire to please and be pleased, give that model guest the privilege of choosing her own hours and her own retirement. the charm of an american country-house is, generally, that it is a home, and sacred to home duties. a model guest never infringes for one moment on the rights of the master of the house. she never spoils his dinner or his drive by being late; she never sends him back to bring her parasol; she never abuses his friends or the family dog; she is careful to abstain from disagreeable topics; she joins his whist-table if she knows how to play; but she ought never to be obliged to rise an hour earlier than her wont because he wishes to take an early train for town. these early-morning, perfunctory breakfasts are not times for conversation, and they ruin the day for many bad sleepers. in a country neighborhood a hostess has sometimes to ask her guests to go to church to hear a stupid preacher, and to go to her country neighbors, to become acquainted with what may be the slavery of country parties. the guest should always be allowed to refuse these hospitalities; and, if he be a tired townsman, he will prefer the garden, the woodland, the retirement of the country, to any church or tea-party in the world. he cannot enter into his host's interests or his neighbor's. leave him to his solitude if in that is his happiness. at newport guest and hostess have often different friends and different invitations. when this is understood, no trouble ensues if the host and hostess go out to dinner and leave the guest at home. it often happens that this is done, and no lady of good-breeding takes offence. of course a nice dinner is prepared for her, and she is often asked to invite a friend to share it. on the other hand, the guest often has invitations which do not include the hostess. these should be spoken of in good season, so that none of the hostess's plans may be disarranged, that the carriage may be ordered in time, and the guest sent for at the proper hour. well-bred people always accept these contingencies as a matter of course, and are never disconcerted by them. there is no office in the world which should be filled with such punctilious' devotion, propriety, and self-respect as that of hostess. if a lady ever allows her guest to feel that she is a cause of inconvenience, she violates the first rule of hospitality. if she fail in any way in her obligations as hostess to a guest whom she has invited, she shows herself to be ill-bred and ignorant of the first principles of politeness. she might better invite twelve people to dinner and then ask them to dine on the pavement than ignore or withdraw from a written and accepted invitation, unless sickness or death afford the excuse; and yet hostesses have been known to do this from mere caprice. but they were necessarily ill- bred people. chapter li. lady and gentleman. the number of questions asked by correspondents on the subject of the proper use of the familiar words _lady_ and _woman_, and of the titles of married women, induces the reflection that the "woman" question is one which rivals in universal interest those of nihilism, irish rebellion, and the future presidency. it is not, however, of ultimate importance to a woman what she is called, as arose by any other name would smell as sweet, but it _is_ of importance to those who speak _of_ her, because by their speech "shall ye know them," whether fashionable or unfashionable, whether old or young, whether welt-bred or ill-bred, whether stylish or hopelessly _rococo_! nothing, for instance, can be in worse taste than to say "she is a beautiful lady," or "a clever lady." one should always say "beautiful _woman_," "clever _woman_." the would-be genteel make this mistake constantly, and in the rosa-matilda style of novel the gentleman always kneels to the lady, and the fair ladies are scattered broadcast through the book, while the fine old saxon word "woman" is left out, or not properly used. now it would be easy enough to correct this if we could only tell our correspondents always to use the word "woman." but unfortunately we are here constrained to say that would be equally "bad form." no gentleman would say, "i am travelling with women." he would say, "i am travelling with ladies." he would not say, "when i want to take my women to the theatre." he would say, "when i want to take my ladies." he would speak of his daughters as "young ladies," etc., etc. but if he were writing a novel about these same young ladies, he would avoid the word "lady" as feeble, and in speaking of emotions, looks, qualities, etc., he would use the word "woman." therefore, as a grand generic distinction, we can say that "woman" should be used when the realities of life and character are treated of. "lady" should be used to express the outside characteristics, the conditions of cultivated society, and the respectful, distant, and chivalric etiquette which society claims for women when members thereof. then, our querist may ask, why is the term, "she is a beautiful _lady_," so hopelessly out of style? why does it betray that the speaker has not lived in a fashionable set? why must we say "nice woman," "clever woman," "beautiful woman," etc. the only answer to this is that the latter phraseology is a caprice of fashion into which plain-spoken people were driven by the affectations of the shabby-genteel and half-instructed persons who have ruined two good words for us by misapplication. one is "genteel," which means gentle, and the other is "lady," which means everything which is refined, cultivated, elegant, and aristocratic. then as to the term "woman," this nomenclature has been much affected by the universal _sans-culottism_ of the french revolution, when the queen was called _citoyenne_. much, again, from a different cause, comes from our own absurd want of self-respect, which has accrued in this confusion of etiquette in a republic, as for instance, "i am a lady--as much a lady as anybody--and i want to be called a lady," remarked a nurse who came for a situation to the wife of one of our presidents. "i have just engaged a colored _lady_ as a cook," remarked a _nouveau riche_. no wonder that when the word came to be thus misapplied the lover of good english undefiled began to associate the word "lady" with pretension, ignorance, and bad grammar. still, no "real lady" would say to her nurse, "a woman is coming to stay with me." to servants the term "lady," as applied to a coming guest, is indispensable. so of a gentleman she would say to her servant, "a gentleman is coming to stay here for a week;" but to her husband or son she would say, "he is a clever man," rather than, "he is a clever gentleman." we might almost say that no women talk to men about "gentlemen," and no men talk to women about "ladies," in fashionable society. a woman in good society speaks of the hunting men, the dancing men, the talking men. she does not say "gentleman," unless in some such connection as this, "no gentleman would do such a thing," if some breach of etiquette had occurred. and yet no man would come into a lady's drawing-room saying, "where are the girls?" or "where are the women?" he would say; "where are the young ladies?" it therefore requires a fine ear and a fine sense of modern fashion and of eternal propriety always to choose the right word in the delicate and almost unsettled estate of these two epithets. "ladylike" can never go out of fashion. it is at once a compliment of the highest order and a suggestion of subtle perfection. the word "woman" does not reach up to this, because in its broad and strong etymology it may mean a washer-woman, a fighting woman, a coarse woman, alas! a drunken woman. if we hear of "a drunken lady," we see a downfall, a glimpse of better days; chloral, opium, even cologne, may have brought her to it. the word still saves her miserable reputation a little. but the words "a drunken woman" merely suggest whiskey, degradation, squalor, dirt, and the tenement-house. it is evident, therefore, that we cannot do without the word "lady." it is the outgrowth of years of chivalric devotion, and of that progress in the history of woman which has ever been raising her from her low estate. to the christian religion first does she owe her rise; to the institution of chivalry, to the growth of civilization since, has woman owed her continual elevation. she can never go back to the degradation of those days when, in greece and rome, she was not allowed to eat with her husband and sons. she waited on them as a servant. now they in every country serve her, if they are _gentlemen_. but, owing to a curious twist in the way of looking at things, she is now undoubtedly the tyrant, and in fashionable society she is often imperiously ill-bred, and requires that her male slaves be in a state of servitude to which the egyptian bondage would have been light frivolity. american women are said to be faulty in manners, particularly in places of public amusement, in railway travelling, in omnibuses, and in shops. men complain very much that the fairer sex are very brutal on these occasions. "i wish _women_ would behave like _ladies_," said a man at a _matin�e_. "yes," said his friend, "i wish they would behave like _men_." just then a sharp feminine elbow was thrust into his chest. "i wish _gentlemen_ would not crowd so," was the remark which accompanied the "dig under the fifth rib" from a person whom no one could call a lady. in speaking to a servant, either a lady or a gentleman will ever be patient, courteous, kind, not presuming on his or her power. but there should always be a certain ceremony observed, and a term of respect to the person spoken of. therefore a mistress will not say "have the _girls_ come in?" "is _lucy_ home?" she will say: "have the young ladies come in?" "is miss lucy at home?" this sort of dignified etiquette has the happiest and the most beneficial result on the relations of mistress and servant. in modern literature the terms man and woman have nearly obliterated the words gentleman and lady, and we can hardly imagine a more absurd phrase than the following: "i asked mary what she thought of charles, and she said he was a beautiful gentleman, and charles said that mary was a lovely lady; so it was quite natural that i should try to bring them together," etc., etc. still, in poetry we like the word lady. "if my lady loves me true," is much better than "if my woman loves me true" would be; so there, again, we have the contradiction, for the anglo-saxon rule of using the word "woman" when anything real or sincere in emotion is in question is here honored in the breach. but this is one of the many shadowy conflicts which complicate this subject. the term "lady" is like the word "gentry" in england--it is elastic. all persons coming within the category of "gentry" may attend the queen's drawing-room, yet it is well understood that birth, wealth, association, and position give the _raison d'�tre_ for the use of such a privilege, and in that carefully guarded english society the wife or daughters of an officer in the navy or in a line regiment whose means are slender and whose position is obscure would not be justified in presenting themselves at court. the same remark holds good of the wives and daughters of clergymen, barristers, doctors, authors, and artists, although the husband, if eminent, might attend a lev�e if he wished. yet these women are very tenacious of the title of lady, and no tradesman's wife would deny it to them, while she would not, if ever so rich, aspire to be called a lady herself. "i ain't no lady myself, but i can afford to have 'em as governesses," remarked a mrs. kicklebury on the rhine. she was not at all ashamed of the fact that she was no lady herself, yet her compeer and equal in america, if she kept a gin-shop, would insist upon the title of lady. a lady is a person of refinement, of education, of fashion, of birth, of prestige, of a higher grade of some sort, if we apply the term rightly. she may be out of place through loss of fortune, or she may have sullied her title, but a something tells us that she is still a lady. we have a habit of saying, as some person, perhaps well decked out with fortune's favors, passes us, "she is not a lady," and every one will know what we mean. the phrase "vulgar lady," therefore, is an absurdity; there is no such thing; as well talk of a white blackbird; the term is self-contradictory. if she is vulgar, she is not a lady; but there is such a thing as a vulgar woman, and it is a very real thing. in england they have many terms to express the word "woman" which we have not. a traveller in the rural districts speaks of a "kindly old wife who received me," or a "wretched old crone," or a "saucy lassie," or a "neat maid," etc. we should use the word "woman," or "old woman," or "girl," for all these. now as to the term "old woman" or "old lady." the latter has a pretty sound. we see the soft white curls, so like floss silk, the delicate white camel's-hair shawl, the soft lace and appropriate black satin gown, the pretty old-fashioned manner, and we see that this is a _real_ lady. she may have her tricks of old-fashioned speech; they do not offend us. to be sure, she has no slang; she does not talk about "awfully jolly," or a "ghastly way off;" she does not talk of the boys as being a "bully lot," or the girls as being "beastly fine;" she does not say that she is "feeling rather seedy to-day," etc. no, "our old lady" is a "lady," and it would be in bad taste to call her an "old woman," which somehow sounds disrespectful. therefore we must, while begging of our correspondents to use the word "woman" whenever they can, tell them not entirely to drop the word "lady." the real lady or gentleman is very much known by the voice, the choice of words, the appropriate term. nothing can be better than to err on the side of simplicity, which is always better than gush, or over-effort, or conceit of speech. one may be "ignorant of the shibboleth of a good set," yet speak most excellent english. thackeray said of george the fourth that there was only one reason why he should not have been called the "first gentleman in europe," and that was because he was not a gentleman. but of the young duke of albany, just deceased, no one could hesitate to speak as a gentleman. therefore, while we see that birth does not always make a gentleman, we still get the idea that it may help to make one, as we do not readily connect the idea with jeames, who was a "gentleman's gentleman." he might have been "fine," but not "noble." as for titles for married women, we have only the one word, "mrs.," not even the pretty french "madame." but no woman should write herself "mrs." on her checks or at the foot of her notes; nowhere but in a hotel register or on a card should she give herself this title, simple though it be. she is always, if she writes in the first person, "mary smith," even to a person she does not know. this seems to trouble some people, who ask, "how will such a person know i am married?" why should they? if desirous of informing some distant servant or other person of that fact, add in a parenthesis beneath "mary smith" the important addenda, "mrs. john smith." when women are allowed to vote, perhaps further complications may arise. the truth is, women have no real names. they simply are called by the name of father or husband, and if they marry several times may well begin to doubt their own identity. happy those who never have to sign but one new name to their letters! chapter lii. the manners of the past. in these days, amid what has been strongly stated as "the prevailing mediocrity of manners," a study of the manners of the past would seem to reveal to us the fact that in those days of ceremony a man who was beset with shyness need then have suffered less than he would do now in these days of impertinence and brass. a man was not then expected to enter a room and to dash at once into a lively conversation. the stately influence of the _minuet de la cour_ was upon him; he deliberately entered a room, made a low bow, and sat down, waiting to be spoken to. indeed, we may go farther back and imagine ourselves at the court of louis xiv., when the world was broadly separated into the two classes--the noble and the _bourgeois_. that world which moliere divided in his _dramatis personae_ into the courtier, the provincial noble, and the plain gentleman; and secondly, into the men of law and medicine, the merchant, and the shopkeeper. these divisions shall be for a moment considered. now, all these men knew exactly, from the day when they reached ten years of age, how they were expected to behave in the sphere of life to which they were called. the marquis was instructed in every art of graceful behavior, the _bel air_ was taught him as we teach our boys how to dance, even more thoroughly. the _grand seigneur_ of those days, the man who would not arrange the folds of his own cravat with his own hands, and who exacted an observance as punctilious from his valets as if he were the king himself, that marquis of whom the great moliere makes such fun, the courtier whom even the _grand monarque_ liked to see ridiculed--this man had, nevertheless, good manners. we see him reflected with marvellous fidelity in those wonderful comedies of the french shakespeare; he is more than the fashion of an epoch--he is one of the eternal types of human nature. we learn what a man becomes whose business is "deportment." even despicable as he is in "le bourgeois gentilhomme"---flattering, borrowing money, cheating the poor citizen, and using his rank as a mask and excuse for his vices--we still read that it was such a one as he who took poor moliere's cold hands in his and put them in his muff, when, on the last dreadful day of the actor's life (with a liberality which does his memory immortal honor), he strove to play, "that fifty poor workmen might receive their daily pay." it was such a one as this who was kind to poor moliere. there was in these _gens de cour_ a copy of fine feeling, even if they had it not, they were polite and elegant, making the people about them feel better for the moment, doing graceful acts courteously, and gilding vice with the polish of perfect manners. the _bourgeois_, according to moliere, was as bad a man as the courtier, but he had, besides, brutal manners; and as for the magistrates and merchants, they were harsh and surly, and very sparing of civility. no wonder, when the french revolution came, that one of the victims, regretting the not-yet-forgotten marquis, desired the return of the aristocracy; for, said he, "i would rather be trampled upon by a velvet slipper than a wooden shoe." it is the best definition of manners--"a velvet slipper rather than a wooden shoe." we ask very little of the people whom we casually meet but that the salutation be pleasant; and as we remember how many crimes and misfortunes have arisen from sudden anger, caused sometimes by pure breaches of good manners, we almost agree with burke that "manners are of more importance than laws. upon them, in a great measure, the laws depend." some one calls politeness "benevolence in trifles, the preference of others to ourselves in little, daily, hourly occurrences in the business of life, a better place, a more commodious seat, priority in being helped at table," etc. now, in all these minor morals the marquis was a benevolent man; he was affable and both well and fair spoken, "and would use strange sweetness and blandishment of words when he desired to affect or persuade anything that he took to heart"--that is, with his equals. it is well to study this man, and to remember that he was not always vile. the prince of cond� had these manners and a generous, great heart as well. gentleness really belongs to virtue, and a sycophant can hardly imitate it well. the perfect gentleman is he who has a strong heart under the silken doublet of a perfect manner. we do not want all the decent drapery of life torn off; we do not want to be told that we are full of defects; we do not wish people to show us a latent antagonism; and if we have in ourselves the elements of roughness, severity of judgment, a critical eye which sees defects rather than virtues, we are bound to study how to tone down that native, disagreeable temper--just as we are bound to try to break the icy formality of a reserved manner, and to cultivate a cordiality which we do not feel. such a command over the shortcomings of our own natures is not insincerity, as we often find that the effort to make ourselves agreeable towards some one whom we dislike ends in leading us to like the offending person. we find that we have really been the offender, going about with a moral tape-measure graduated by ourselves, and measuring the opposite party with a serene conceit which has called itself principle or honor, or some high-sounding name, while it was really nothing but prejudice. we should try to carry entertainment with us, and to seem entertained with our company. a friendly behavior often conciliates and pleases more than wit or brilliancy; and here we come back to those polished manners of the past, which were a perfect drapery, and therefore should be studied, and perhaps in a degree copied, by the awkward and the shy, who cannot depend upon themselves for inspirations of agreeability. emerson says that "fashion is good- sense entertaining company; it hates corners and sharp points of character, hates quarrelsome, egotistical, solitary, and gloomy people, hates whatever can interfere with total blending of parties, while it values all particularities as in the highest degree refreshing which can consist with good-fellowship." it does the awkward and the shy good to contemplate these words. it may not immediately help them to become graceful and self-possessed, but it will certainly have a very good effect in inducing them to try. we find that the successful man of the world has studied the temper of the finest sword. he can bend easily, he is flexible, he is pliant, and yet he has not lost the bravery and the power of his weapon. men of the bar, for instance, have been at the trouble to construct a system of politeness, in which even an offensive self- estimation takes on the garb of humility. the harmony is preserved, a trial goes on with an appearance of deference and respect each to the other, highly, most highly, commendable, and producing law and order where otherwise we might find strife, hatred, and warfare. although this may be a mimic humility, although the compliments may be judged insincere, they are still the shadows of the very highest virtues. the man who is guarding his speech is ruling his spirit; he is keeping his temper, that furnace of all affliction, and the lofty chambers of his brain are cool and full of fresh air. a man who is by nature clownish, and who has what he calls a "noble sincerity," is very apt to do injustice to the polished man; he should, however, remember that "the manner of a vulgar man has freedom without ease, and that the manner of a gentleman has ease without freedom." a man with an obliging, agreeable address may be just as sincere as if he had the noble art of treading on everybody's toes. the "putter-down-upon-system" man is quite as often urged by love of display as by a love of truth; he is ungenerous, combative, and ungenial; he is the "bravo of society." to some people a fine manner is the gift of nature. we see a young person enter a room, make himself charming, go through the transition period of boy to man, always graceful, and at man's estate aim to still possess that unconscious and flattering grace, that "most exquisite taste of politeness," which is a gift from the gods. he is exactly formed to please, this lucky creature, and all this is done for him by nature. we are disposed to abuse mother nature when we think of this boy's heritage of joy compared with her step-son, to whom she has given the burning blushes, the awkward step, the heavy self-consciousness, the uncourtly gait, the hesitating speech, and the bashful demeanor. but nothing would be omitted by either parent or child to cure the boy if he had a twisted ankle, so nothing should be omitted that can, cure the twist of shyness, and therefore a shy young person should not be expected to confront such a trial. and to those who have the bringing up of shy young persons we commend these excellent words of whately: "there are many otherwise sensible people who seek to cure a young person of that very common complaint--shyness--by exhorting him not to be shy, telling him what an awkward appearance it has, and that it prevents his doing himself justice, all of which is manifestly pouring oil on the fire to quench it; for the very cause of shyness is an over-anxiety as to what people are thinking of you, a morbid attention to your own appearance. the course, therefore, that ought to be pursued is exactly the reverse. the sufferer should be exhorted to think as little as possible about himself and the opinion formed of him, to be assured that most of the company do not trouble their heads about him, and to harden him against any impertinent criticisms that he supposed to be going on, taking care only to do what is right, leaving others to say and to think what they will." all this philosophy is excellent, and is like the sensible archbishop. but the presence of a set of carefully cultivated, artificial manners, or a hat to hold in one's hand, will better help the shy person when he is first under fire, and when his senses are about deserting him, than any moral maxims can be expected to do. carlyle speaks of the fine manners of his peasant father (which he does not seem to have inherited), and he says: "i think-that they came from his having, early in life, worked for maxwell, of keir, a scotch gentleman of great dignity and worth, who gave to all those under him a fine impression of the governing classes." old carlyle had no shame in standing with his hat off as his landlord passed; he had no truckling spirit either of paying court to those whose lot in life it was to be his superiors. those manners of the past were studied; they had, no doubt, much about them which we should now call stiff, formal, and affected, but they were a great help to the awkward and the shy. in the past our ancestors had the help of costume, which we have not. nothing is more defenceless than a being in a dress-coat, with no pockets allowable in which he can put his hands. if a man is in a costume he forgets the sufferings of the coat and pantaloon. he has a sense of being in a fortress. a military man once said that he always fought better in his uniform--that a fashionably cut coat and an every-day hat took all heroism out of him. women, particularly shy ones, feel the effect of handsome clothes as a reinforcement. "there is an _appui_ in a good gown," said madame de sta�l. therefore, the awkward and the shy, in attempting to conquer the manners of artificial society, should dress as well as possible. perhaps to their taste in dress do frenchmen owe much of their easy civility and their success in social politics; and herein women are very much more fortunate than men, for they can always ask, "is it becoming?" and can add the handkerchief, fan, muff, or mantle as a refuge for trembling hands. a man has only his pockets; he does not wish to always appear with his hands in them. taste is said to be the instantaneous, ready appreciation of the fitness of things. to most of us who may regret the want of it in ourselves, it seems to be the instinct of the fortunate few. some women look as if they had simply blossomed out of their inner consciousness into a beautiful toilet; others are the creatures of chance, and look as if their clothes had been hurled at them by a tornado. some women, otherwise good and true, have a sort of moral want of taste, and wear too bright colors, too many glass beads, too much hair, and a combination of discordant materials which causes the heart of a good dresser to ache with anguish. this want of taste runs across the character like an intellectual bar-sinister, forcing us to believe that their conclusions are anything but legitimate. people who say innocently things which shock you, who put the listeners at a dinner-table upon tenter-hooks, are either wanting in taste or their minds are confused with shyness. a person thus does great injustice to his own moral qualities when he permits himself to be misrepresented by that disease of which we speak. shyness perverts the speech more than vice even. but if a man or a woman can look down on a well-fitting, becoming dress (even if it is the barren and forlorn dress which men wore to parties in ), it is still an _appui_. we know how it offends us to see a person in a dress which is inappropriate. a chief-justice in the war-paint and feathers of an indian chief would scarcely be listened to, even if his utterances were those of a marshall or a jay. it takes a great person, a courageous person, to bear the shame of unbecoming dress; and, no doubt, to a nature shy, passionate, proud, and poor, the necessity of wearing poor or unbecoming clothes has been an injury for life. he despised himself for his weakness, but the weakness remained. when the french revolution came in with its _sans-culotteism_, and republican simplicity found its perfect expression in thomas jefferson, still, the prejudices of powdered hair and stiff brocades remained. they gradually disappeared, and the man of the nineteenth century lost the advantages of becoming dress, and began anew the battle of life stripped of all his trappings. manners went with these flowing accessaries, and the abrupt speech, curt bow, and rather exaggerated simplicity of the present day came in. but it is a not unworthy study--these manners of the past. we are returning, at least on the feminine side, to a great and magnificent "princess," or queenly, style of dress. it is becoming the fashion to make a courtesy, to flourish a fan, to bear one's self with dignity when in this fine costume. cannot the elegance, the repose, and the respectfulness of the past return also? chapter liii. the manners of the optimist. it is very easy to laugh at the optimist, and to accuse him of "poetizing the truth." no doubt, an optimist will see excellence, beauty, and truth where pessimists see only degradation, vice, and ugliness. the one hears the nightingale, the other the raven only. to one, the sunsetting forms a magic picture; to the other, it is but a presage of bad weather tomorrow. some people seem to look at nature through a glass of red wine or in a claude lorraine mirror; to them the landscape has ever the bloom of summer or a spring-tide grace. to others, it is always cloudy, dreary, dull. the desolate ravine, the stony path, the blighted heath--that is all they can find in a book which should have a chapter for everybody. and the latter are apt to call the former dreamers, visionaries, fools. they are dubbed in society often flatterers, people whose "geese are all swans." but are those, then, the fools who see only the pleasant side? are they alone the visionaries who see the best rather than the worst? it is strange that the critics see only weakness in the "pleasant- spoken," and only truth and safety in those who croak. the person who sees a bright light in an eye otherwise considered dull, who distrusts the last scandal, is supposed to be foolish, too easily pleased, and wanting in that wise scepticism which should be the handmaid of common-sense; and if such a person in telling a story poetizes the truth, if it is a principle or a tendency to believe the best of everybody, to take everybody at their highest note, is she any the less canny? has she necessarily less insight? as there are always two sides to a shield, why not look at the golden one? an excess of the organ of hope has created people like colonel sellers in the play, who deluded himself that there were "millions in it," who landed in poverty and wrecked his friends; but this excess is scarcely a common one. far more often does discouragement paralyze than does hope exalt. those who have sunshine for themselves and to spare are apt to be happy and useful people; they are in the aggregate the successful people. but, although good-nature is temperamental, and although some men and women are, by their force of imagination and charity, forced to poetize the truth, the question remains an open one, which is the nearest to truth, a pessimist or an optimist? truth is a virtue more palpable and less shadowy than we think; it is not easy to speak the unvarnished, uncorrupted truth (so the lawyers tell us). the faculty of observation differs, and the faculty of language is variable. some people have no intellectual apprehension of the truth, although they morally believe in it. people who abstractly revere the truth have never been able to tell anything but falsehoods. to such the power of making a statement either favorable or prejudicial depends upon the mood of the moment, not upon fact. therefore a habit of poetizing the truth would seem to be of either excess the safest. society becomes sometimes a hot-bed of evil passions--one person succeeds at the expense of another. how severe is the suffering proceeding from social neglect and social stabs! it might, much of it, be smoothed away by poetizing the truth ever so little. instead of bearing an ill-natured message, suppose we carry an amiable one. instead of believing that an insult was intended, suppose a compliment. "should he upbraid, i'll own that he prevail, and sing more sweetly than the nightingale! say that he frown, i'll own his looks i view like morning roses newly dipped in dew." people who are thus calmly serene and amiable through the frowns and smiles, the ups and downs, of a social career are often called worldly. well, let us suppose that they are. some author has wisely said: "that the world should be full of worldliness seems as right as that a stream should be full of water or a living body full of blood." to conquer this world, to get out of it a full, abounding, agreeable life, is what we are put here for. else, why such gifts as beauty, talent, health, wit, and a power of enjoyment be given to us? to be worldly, or worldlings, is supposed to be incurring the righteous anger of the good. but is it not improperly using a term of implied reproach? for, although the world may be too much with us, and a worldling may be a being not filled to the brim with the deeper qualities or the highest aims, still he is a man necessary to the day, the hour, the sphere which must be supplied with people fitted to its needs. so with a woman in society. she must be a worldling in the best sense of the word. she must keep up her corner of the great mantle of the field of the cloth of gold. she must fill the social arena with her influence; for in society she is a most important factor. then, as a "complex overgrowth of wants and fruitions" has covered our world as with a banyan-tree, we must have something else to keep alive our umbrageous growth of art, refinement, inventions, luxuries, and delicate sensibilities. we must have wealth. "wealth is the golden essence of the outer world," and therefore to be respected. of course the pessimist sees purse-pride, pompous and outrageous arrogance, a cringing of the pregnant hinges of the knee, false standards, and a thousand faults in this admission. and yet the optimist finds the "very rich," with but few exceptions, amiable, generous, and kindly, often regretting that poorer friends will allow their wealth to bar them off, wishing often that their opulence need not shut them off from the little dinners, the homely hospitality, the small gifts, the sincere courtesies of those whose means are moderate, the cheerful people who are not dismayed by the superior magnificence of a friend are very apt to find that friend quite as anxious for sympathy and for kindness as are the poor, especially if his wealth has caused him, almost necessarily, to live upon the superficial and the external in life. we all know that there is a worldly life, poor in aim and narrow in radius, which is as false as possible. to live _only_ for this world, with its changing fashions, its imperfect judgments, its toleration of snobs and of sinners, its forgiveness of ignorance under a high-sounding name, its exaggeration of the transient and the artificial, would be a poor life indeed. but, if we can lift ourselves up into the higher comprehension of what a noble thing this world really is, we may well aspire to be worldlings. julius caesar was a worldling; so was shakespeare. erasmus was a worldling. we might increase the list indefinitely. these men brought the loftiest talents to the use of worldly things. they showed how great conquest, poetry, thought might become used for the world. they were full of this world. to see everything through a poetic vision (the only genuine idealization) is and has been the gift of the benefactors of our race. b�ranger was of the world, worldly; but can we give him up? so were the great artists who flooded the world with light--titian, tintoretto, correggio, raphael, rubens, watteau. these men poetized the truth. life was a brilliant drama, a splendid picture, a garden ever fresh and fair; the optimist carries a lamp through dark, social obstructions. "i would fain bind up many wounds, if i could be assured that neither by stupidity nor by malice i need make one!" is her motto, the true optimist. it is a fine allegory upon the implied power of society that the poet marvell used when he said he "would not drink wine with any one to whom he could not trust his life." titian painted his women with all their best points visible. there was a careful shadow or drapery which hid the defects which none of us are without; but defects to the eye of the optimist make beauty more attractive by contrast; in a portrait they may better be hid perhaps. to poetize the truth in the science of charity and forgiveness can never be a great sin. if it is one, the recording angel will probably drop a tear. this tendency to optimism is, we think, more like that magic wand which the great idealist waved over a troubled sea, or like those sudden sunsets after a storm, which not only control the wave, but gild the leaden mass with crimson and unexpected gold, whose brightness may reach some storm-driven sail, giving it the light of hope, bringing the ship to a well-defined and hospitable shore, and regulating, with a new attraction, the lately distracted compass. therefore, we do not hesitate to say that the philosophy, and the creed, and the manners of the optimist are good for society. however, his excellence may well be criticised; it may even sometimes take its place amid those excesses which are catalogued as amid the "deformities of exaggerated virtues." we may be too good, some of us, in one single direction. but the rounded and harmonious greek calm is hard to find. "for repose and serenity of mind," says a modern author, "we must go back to the greek temple and statue, the greek epic and drama, the greek oration and moral treatise; and modern education will never become truly effectual till it brings more minds into happy contact with the ideal of a balanced, harmonious development of all the powers of mind, body, conscience, and heart." and who was a greater optimist than your athenian? he had a passionate love of nature, a rapt and infinite adoration of beauty, and he diffused the splendid radiance of his genius in making life more attractive and the grave less gloomy. perhaps we of a brighter faith and a more certain revelation may borrow something from this "heathen" greek. chapter liv. the manners of the sympathetic. sympathy is the most delicate tendril of the mind, and the most fascinating gift which nature can give to us. the most precious associations of the human heart cluster around the word, and we love to remember those who have sorrowed with us in sorrow, and rejoiced with us when we were glad. but for the awkward and the shy, the sympathetic are the very worst company. they do not wish to be sympathized with--they wish to be with people who are cold and indifferent; they like shy people like themselves. put two shy people in a room together, and they begin to talk with unaccustomed glibness. a shy woman always attracts a shy man. but women who are gifted with that rapid, gay impressionability which puts them _en rapport_ with their surroundings, who have fancy and an excitable disposition, a quick susceptibility to the influences around them, are very charming in general society, but they are terrible to the awkward and the shy. they sympathize too much, they are too aware of that burning shame which the sufferer desires to conceal. the moment that a shy person sees before him a perfectly unsympathetic person, one who is neither thinking nor caring for him, his shyness begins to flee; the moment that he recognizes a fellow-sufferer he begins to feel a reinforcement of energy. if he be a lover, especially, the almost certain embarrassment of the lady inspires him with hope and with renewed courage. a woman who has a bashful lover, even if she is afflicted with shyness, has been known to find a way to help the poor fellow out of his dilemma more than once. hawthorne, who has left us the most complete and most tragic history of shyness which belongs to "that long rosary on which the blushes of a life are strung," found a woman (the most perfect character, apparently, who ever married and made happy a great genius) who, fortunately for him, was shy naturally, although without that morbid shyness which accompanied him through life. those who knew mrs. hawthorne later found her possessed of great fascination of manner, even in general society, where hawthorne was quite impenetrable. the story of his running down to the concord river and taking boat to escape his visitors has been long familiar to us all. mrs. hawthorne, no doubt, with a woman's tact and a woman's generosity, overcame her own shyness in order to receive those guests whom hawthorne ran away from, and through life remained his better angel. it was through this absence of expressed sympathy that english people became very agreeable to hawthorne. he describes, in his "note book," a speech made by him at a dinner in england: "when i was called upon," he says, "i rapped my head, and it returned a hollow sound." he had, however, been sitting next to a shy english lawyer, a man who won upon him by his quiet, unobtrusive simplicity, and who, in some well-chosen words, rather made light of dinner-speaking and its terrors. when hawthorne finally got up and made his speech, his "voice, meantime, having a far-off and remote echo," and when, as we learn from others, a burst of applause greeted the few well-chosen words drawn up from that full well of thought, that pellucid rill of "english undefiled," the unobtrusive gentleman by his side applauded, and said to him, "it was handsomely done." the compliment pleased the shy man. it is the only compliment to himself which hawthorne ever recorded. now, had hawthorne been congratulated by a sympathetic, effusive american who had clapped him on the back, and who had said, "oh, never fear--you will speak well!" he would have said nothing. the shy sprite in his own eyes would have read in his neighbor's eyes the dreadful truth that his sympathetic neighbor would have indubitably betrayed--a fear that he would not do well. the phlegmatic and stony englishman neither felt nor cared whether hawthorne spoke well or ill; and, although pleased that he did speak well, invested no particular sympathy in the matter, either for or against, and so spared hawthorne's shyness the last bitter drop in the cup, which would have been a recognition of his own moral dread. hawthorne bitterly records his own sufferings. he says, in one of his books, "at this time i acquired this accursed habit of solitude." it has been said that the hawthorne family were, in the earlier generation, afflicted with shyness almost as a disease-- certainly a curious freak of nature in a family descended from robust sea-captains. it only goes to prove how far away are the influences which control our natures and our actions. whether, if hawthorne had not been a shy man, afflicted with a sort of horror of his species at times, always averse to letting himself go, miserable and morbid, we should have been the inheritors of the great fortune which he has left us, is not for us to decide. whether we should have owned "the gentle boy," the immortal "scarlet letter," "the house with seven gables," the "marble faun," and all the other wonderful things which grew out of that secluded and gifted nature, had he been born a cheerful, popular, and sympathetic boy, with a dancing-school manner, instead of an awkward and shy youth (although an exceedingly handsome one), we cannot tell. that is the great secret behind the veil. the answer is not yet made, the oracle has not spoken, and we must not invade the penumbra of genius. it has always been a comfort to the awkward and the shy that washington could not make an after-dinner speech; and the well-known anecdote--"sit down, mr. washington, your modesty is even greater than your valor "--must have consoled many a voiceless hero. washington irving tried to welcome dickens, but failed in the attempt, while dickens was as voluble as he was gifted. probably the very surroundings of sympathetic admirers unnerved both washington and irving, although there are some men who can never "speak on their legs," as the saying goes, in any society. other shy men--men who fear general society, and show embarrassment in the every-day surroundings--are eloquent when they get on their feet. many a shy boy at college has astonished his friends by his ability in an after-dinner speech. many a voluble, glib boy, who has been appointed the orator of the occasion, fails utterly, disappoints public expectation, and sits down with an uncomfortable mantle of failure upon his shoulders. therefore, the ways of shyness are inscrutable. many a woman who has never known what it was to be bashful or shy has, when called upon to read a copy of verses, even to a circle of intimate friends, lost her voice, and has utterly broken down, to her own and her friends' great astonishment. the voice is a treacherous servant; it deserts us, trembles, makes a failure of it, is "not present or accounted for" often when we need its help. it is not alone in the shriek of the hysterical that we learn of its lawlessness, it is in its complete retirement. a bride, often, even when she felt no other embarrassment, has found that she had no voice with which to make her responses. it simply was not there! a lady who was presented at court, and who felt--as she described herself--wonderfully at her ease, began talking, and, without wishing to speak loud, discovered that she was shouting like a trumpeter. the somewhat unusual strain which she had put upon herself, during the ordeal of being presented at the english court, revenged itself by an outpouring of voice which she could not control. many shy people have recognized in themselves this curious and unconscious elevation of the voice. it is not so common as a loss of voice, but it is quite as uncontrollable. the bronchial tubes play us another trick when we are frightened: the voice is the voice of somebody else, it has no resemblance to our own. ventriloquism might well study the phenomena of shyness, for the voice becomes bass that was treble, and soprano that which was contralto. "i dislike to have wilthorpe come to see me," said a very shy woman --"i know my voice will squeak so." with her wilthorpe, who for some reason drove her into an agony of shyness, had the effect of making her talk in a high, unnatural strain, excessively fatiguing. the presence of one's own family, who are naturally painfully sympathetic, has always had upon the bashful and the shy a most evil effect. "i can never plead a cause before my father?" "nor i before my son," said two distinguished lawyers. "if mamma is in the room, i shall never be able to get through my part," said a young amateur actor. but here we must pause to note another exception in the laws of shyness. in the false perspective of the stage shyness often disappears. the shy man, speaking the words, and assuming the character of another, often loses his shyness. it is himself of whom he is afraid, not of tony lumpkin or of charles surface, of hamlet or of claude melnotte. behind their masks he can speak well; but if he at his own dinner- table essays to speak, and mamma watches him with sympathetic eyes, and his brothers and sisters are all listening, he fails. "lord percy sees me fall." yet it is with our own people that we must stand or fall, live or die; it is in our own circle that we must conquer our shyness. now, these reflections are not intended as an argument against sympathy properly expressed. a reasonable and judiciously expressed sympathy with our fellow-beings is the very highest attribute of our nature. "it unravels secrets more surely than the highest critical faculty. analysis of motives that sway men and women is like the knife of the anatomist: it works on the dead. unite sympathy to observation, and the dead spring to life." it is thus to the shy, in their moments of tremor, that we should endeavor to be calmly unsympathetic; not cruel, but indifferent, unobservant. now, women of genius who obtain a reflected comprehension of certain aspects of life through sympathy often arrive at the admirable result of apprehending the sufferings of the shy without seeming to observe them. such a woman, in talking to a shy man, will not seem to see him; she will prattle on about herself, or tell some funny anecdote of how she was tumbled out into the snow, or how she spilled her glass of claret at dinner, or how she got just too late to the lecture; and while she is thus absorbed in her little improvised autobiography, the shy man gets hold of himself and ceases to be afraid of her. this is the secret of tact. madame r�camier, the famous beauty, was always somewhat shy. she was not a wit, but she possessed the gift of drawing out what was best in others. her biographers have blamed her that she had not a more impressionable temper, that she was not more sympathetic. perhaps (in spite of her courage when she took up contributions in the churches dressed as a neo-greek) she was always hampered by shyness. she certainly attracted all the best and most gifted of her time, and had a noble fearlessness in friendship, and a constancy which she showed by following madame de sta�l into exile, and in her devotion to ballenche and chateaubriand. she had the genius of friendship, a native sincerity, a certain reality of nature--those fine qualities which so often accompany the shy that we almost, as we read biography and history, begin to think that shyness is but a veil for all the virtues. perhaps to this shyness, or to this hidden sympathy, did madame r�camier owe that power over all men which survived her wonderful beauty. the blind and poor old woman of the _abbaye_ had not lost her charm; the most eminent men and women of her day followed her there, and enjoyed her quiet (not very eloquent) conversation. she had a wholesome heart; it kept her from folly when she was young, from a too over-facile sensitiveness to which an impressionable, sympathetic temperament would have betrayed her. her firm, sweet nature was not flurried by excitement; she had a steadfastness in her social relations which has left behind an everlasting renown to her name. and what are, after all, these social relations which call for so much courage, and which can create so much suffering to most of us as we conquer for them our awkwardness and our shyness? let us pause for a moment, and try to be just. let us contemplate these social ethics, which call for so much that is, perhaps, artificial and troublesome and contradictory. society, so long as it is the congregation of the good, the witty, the bright, the intelligent, and the gifted, is the thing most necessary to us all. we are apt to like it and its excitements almost too well, or to hate it, with its excesses and its mistakes, too bitterly. we are rarely just to society. the rounded and harmonious and temperate understanding and use of society is, however, the very end and aim of education. we are born to live with each other and not for ourselves; if we are cheerful, our cheerfulness was given to us to make bright the lives of those about us; if we have genius, that is a sacred trust; if we have beauty, wit, joyousness, it was given us for the delectation of others, not for ourselves; if we are awkward and shy, we are bound to break the crust and to show that within us is beauty, cheerfulness, and wit. "it is but the fool who loves excess." the best human being should moderately like society. chapter lv. certain questions answered. we are asked by a correspondent as to when a gentleman should wear his hat and when take it off. a gentleman wears his hat in the street, on a steamboat deck, raising it to a lady acquaintance; also in a promenade concert-room and picture-gallery. he never wears it in a theatre or opera-house, and seldom in the parlors of a hotel. the etiquette of raising the hat on the staircases and in the halls of a hotel as gentlemen pass ladies is much commended. in europe each man raises his hat as he passes a bier, or if a hearse carrying a dead body passes him. in this country men simply raise their hats as a funeral _cort�ge_ passes into a church, or at the grave. if a gentleman, particularly an elderly one, takes off his hat and stands uncovered in a draughty place, as the _foyer_ of an opera-house, while talking to ladies, it is proper for one of them to say, "pray resume your hat "--a delicate attention deeply prized by a respectful man, who, perhaps, would not otherwise cover his head. again, our young lady friends ask us many questions on the subject of _propriety_, showing how anxious they are to do right, but also proving how far they are from apprehending what in old-world customs has been always considered propriety. in our new country the relations of men and women are necessarily simple. the whole business of etiquette is, of course, reduced to each one's sense of propriety, and the standard must be changed as the circumstances demand. as, for instance, a lady writes to know if she should thank a gentleman for paying for her on an excursion. now this involves a long answer. in europe no young lady could accept an invitation to go as the guest of a young gentleman on "an excursion," and allow him to pay for her, without losing much reputation. she would not in either england or france be received in society again. she should be invited by the gentleman through her father or mother, and one or both should accompany an her. even then it is not customary for gentlemen to invite ladies to go on an excursion. he could invite the lady's mother to chaperon a theatre party which he had paid for. another young lady asks if she could with propriety buy the tickets and take a young gentleman to the theatre. of course she could, if her mother or chaperon would go with her; but even then the mother or chaperon should write the note of invitation. but in our free country it is, we hear, particularly in the west, allowable for a young lady and gentleman to go off on, "an excursion" together, the gentleman paying all the expenses. if that is allowed, then, of course--to answer our correspondent's question she should thank him. but if we were to answer the young lady's later question, "would this be considered etiquette?" we should say, decidedly, no. another question which we are perpetually asked is this: how to allow a gentleman a proper degree of friendly intimacy without allowing him to think himself too much of a favorite. here we cannot bring in either etiquette or custom to decide. one very general law would be not to accept too many attentions, to show a certain reserve in dancing with him or driving with him. it is always proper for a gentleman to take a young lady out to drive in his dog-cart with his servant behind, if her parents approve; but if it is done very often, of course it looks conspicuous, and the lady runs the risk of being considered engaged. and she knows, of course, whether her looks and words give him reason to think that he is a favorite. she must decide all that herself. another writes to ask us if she should take a gentleman's hat and coat when he calls. never. let him take care of those. christianity and chivalry, modern and ancient custom, make a man the servant of women. the old form of salutation used by sir walter raleigh and other courtiers was always, "your servant, madam," and it is the prettiest and most admirable way for a man to address a woman in any language. another asks if she should introduce a gentleman who calls to her mother. this, we should say, would answer itself did not the question re-appear. of course she should; and her mother should always sit with her when she is receiving a call from a gentleman. but if in our lesser fashionable circles the restrictions of etiquette are relaxed, let a young lady always remember these general principles, that men will like and respect her far better if she is extremely particular about allowing them to pay for her, if she refuses two invitations out of three, if she is dignified and reserved rather than if she is the reverse. at newport it is now the fashion for young ladies to drive young men out in their pony-phaetons with a groom behind, or even without a groom; but a gentleman never takes out a lady in his own carriage without a servant. gentlemen and ladies walk together in the daytime unattended, but if they ride on horseback a groom is always in attendance on the lady. in rural neighborhoods where there are no grooms, and where a young lady and gentleman go off for a drive unattended, they have thrown old-world etiquette out of the window, and must make a new etiquette of their own. propriety, mutual respect, and american chivalry have done for women what all the surveillance of spanish duennas and of french etiquette has done for the young girl of europe. if a woman is a worker, an artist, a student, or an author, she can walk the quartier latin of paris unharmed. but she has in work an armor of proof. this is not etiquette when she comes into the world of fashion. she must observe etiquette, as she would do the laws of prussia or of england, if she stands on foreign shores. perhaps we can illustrate this. given a pretty young girl who shall arrive on the steamer _germania_ after being several years at school in paris, another who comes in by rail from kansas, another from some quiet, remote part of georgia, and leave them all at the new york hotel for a winter. let us imagine them all introduced at a new york ball to three gentlemen, who shall call on them the next day. if the girl educated in paris, sitting by her mamma, hears the others talk to the young men she will be shocked. the girls who have been brought up far from the centres of etiquette seem to her to have no modesty, no propriety. they accept invitations from the young men to go to the theatre alone, to take drives, and perhaps, as we have said, to "go on an excursion." to the french girl this seems to be a violation of propriety; but later on she accepts an invitation to go out on a coach, with perhaps ten or twelve others, and with a very young chaperon. the party does not return until twelve at night, and as they walk through the corridors to a late supper the young western girl meets them, and sees that the young men are already the worse for wine: she is apt to say, "what a rowdy crowd!" and to think that, after all, etiquette permits its own sins, in which she is right. in a general statement it may be as well to say that a severe etiquette would prevent a young lady from receiving gifts from a young man, except _bonbonnieres_ and bouquets. it is not considered proper for him to offer her clothing of any sort--as gowns, bonnets, shawls, or shoes--even if he is engaged to her. she may use her discretion about accepting a camel's-hair shawl from a man old enough to be her father, but she should never receive jewellery from any one but a relative or her _fianc�_ just before marriage. the reason for this is obvious. it has been abused--the privilege which all men desire, that of decking women with finery. a young lady should not write letters to young men, or send them presents, or take the initiative in any way. a friendly correspondence is very proper if the mother approves, but even this has its dangers. let a young lady always remember that she is to the young man an angel to reverence until she lessens the distance between them and extinguishes respect. young women often write to us as to whether it is proper for them to write letters of condolence or congratulation to ladies older than themselves. we should say, yes. the respect of young girls is always felt gratefully by older ladies. the manners of the present are vastly to be objected to on account of a lack of respect. the rather bitter mr. carlyle wrote satirically of the manners of young ladies. he even had his fling at their laugh: "few are able to laugh what can be called laughing, but only sniff and titter from the throat outward, or at best produce some whiffling husky cachinnations as if they were laughing through wool. of none such comes good." a young lady must not speak too loud or be too boisterous; she must even tone down her wit, lest she be misunderstood. but she need not be dull, or grumpy, or ill-tempered, or careless of her manners, particularly to her mother's old friends. she must not talk slang, or be in any way masculine; if she is, she loses the battle. a young lady is sometimes called upon to be a hostess if her mother is dead. here her liberty becomes greater, but she should always have an aunt or some elderly friend by her side to play chaperon. a young lady may do any manual labor without losing caste. she may be a good cook, a fine laundress, a carver of wood, a painter, a sculptor, an embroideress, a writer, a physician, and she will be eligible, if her manners are good, to the best society anywhere. but if she outrage the laws of good-breeding in the place where she is, she cannot expect to take her place in society. should she be seen at newport driving two gentlemen in her pony-phaeton, or should she and another young woman take a gentleman between them and drive down bellevue avenue, she would be tabooed. it would not be a wicked act, but it would not look well; it would not be _convenable_. if she dresses "loudly," with peculiar hats and a suspicious complexion, she must take the consequences. she must be careful (if she is unknown) not to attempt to copy the follies of well-known fashionable women. what will be forgiven to mrs. well known uptown will never be forgiven to miss kansas. society in this respect is very unjust--the world is always unjust--but that is a part of the truth of etiquette which is to be remembered; it is founded on the accidental conditions of society, having for its background, however, the eternal principles of kindness, politeness, and the greatest good of society. a young lady who is very prominent in society should not make herself too common; she should not appear in too many charades, private theatricals, tableaux, etc. she should think of the "violet by the mossy stone." she must, also, at a watering-place remember that every act of hers is being criticised by a set of lookers-on who are not all friendly, and she must, ere she allow herself to be too much of a belle, remember to silence envious tongues. chapter lvi. english table manners and social usages. in no respect can american and english etiquette be contrasted more fully than in the matter of the every-day dinner, which in america finds a lady in a plain silk dress, high-necked and long-sleeved, but at which the english lady always appears in a semi-grand toilette, with open pompadour corsage and elbow sleeves, if not in low-necked, full-dress attire; while her daughters are uniformly sleeveless, and generally in white dresses, often low-necked in depth of winter. at dinner all the men are in evening dress, even if there is no one present at the time but the family. the dinner is not so good as the ordinary american dinner, except in the matter of fish, which is universally very fine. the vegetables are few and poor, and the "sweets," as they call dessert, are very bad. a gooseberry tart is all that is offered to one at an ordinary dinner, although fine strawberries and a pine are often brought in afterwards. the dinner is always served with much state, and afterwards the ladies all combine to amuse the guests by their talents. there is no false shame in england about singing and playing the piano. even poor performers do their best, and contribute very much to the pleasure of the company. at the table people do not talk much, nor do they gesticulate as americans do. they eat very quietly, and speak in low tones. no matters of family history or religion or political differences are discussed before the servants. talking with the mouth full is considered an unpardonable vulgarity. all small preferences for any particular dish are kept in the background. no hostess ever apologizes, or appears to hear or see anything disagreeable. if the _omelette souffle_ is a failure, she does not observe it; the servant offers and withdraws it, nor is any one disturbed thereby. as soon as one is helped he must begin to eat, not waiting for any one else. if the viand is too hot or too cold, or is not what the visitor likes, he pretends to eat it, playing with knife and fork. no guest ever passes a plate or helps to anything; the servant does all that. soup is taken from the side of the spoon noiselessly. soup and fish are not partaken of a second time. if there is a joint, and the master carves, it is proper, however, to ask for a second cut. bread is passed by the servants, and must be broken, not cut, afterwards. it is considered _gauche_ to be undecided as to whether you will take clear soup or thick soup; decide quickly. in refusing wine, simply say, "thanks;" the servant knows then that you do not take any. the servants retire after handing the dessert, and a few minutes' free conversation is allowed. then the lady of the house gives the signal for rising. toasts and taking wine with people are entirely out of fashion; nor do the gentlemen remain long in the dining-room. at the english dinner-table, from the plainest to the highest, there is etiquette, manner, fine service, and everything that englishmen enjoy. the wit, the courtier, the beauty, and the poet aim at appearing well at dinner. the pleasures of the table, says savarin, bring neither enchantment, ecstasy, nor transports, but they gain in duration what they lose in intensity; they incline us favorably towards all other pleasures--at least help to console us for the loss of them. at very few houses, even that of a duke, does one see so elegant a table and such a profusion of flowers as at every millionaire's table in new york; but one does see superb old family silver and the most beautiful table-linen even at a very plain abode. the table is almost uniformly lighted with wax candles. hot coffee is served immediately after dinner in the drawing-room. plum-pudding, a sweet omelet, or a very rich plum-tart is often served in the middle of dinner, before the game. the salad always comes last, with the cheese. this is utterly unlike our american etiquette. tea is served in english country-houses four or five times a day. it is always brought to your bedside before rising; it is poured at breakfast and at lunch; it is a necessary of life at five o'clock; it is drunk just before going to bed. probably the cold, damp climate has much to do with this; and the tea is never very strong, but is excellent, being always freshly drawn, not steeped, and is most refreshing. servants make the round of the table in pairs, offering the condiments, the sauces, the vegetables, and the wines. the common- sense of the english nation breaks out in their dinners. nothing is offered out of season. to make too great a display of wealth is considered _bourgeois_ and vulgar to a degree. a choice but not oversumptuous dinner meets you in the best houses. but to sit down to the plainest dinners, as we do, _in plain clothes_, would never be permitted. even ladies in deep mourning are expected to make some slight change at dinner. iced drinks are never offered in england, nor in truth are they needed. in england no one speaks of "sherry wine," "port wine;" "champagne wine," he always says "sherry," "port," "claret," etc. but in france one always says "vin de champagne," "vin de bordeaux," etc. it goes to show that what is proper in one country is vulgar in another. it is still considered proper for the man of the house to know how to carve, and at breakfast and lunch the gentlemen present always cut the cold beef, the fowl, the pressed veal and the tongue. at a country-house dinner the lady often helps the soup herself. even at very quiet dinners a _menu_ is written out by the hostess and placed at each plate. the ceremony of the "first lady" being taken in first and allowed to go out first is always observed at even a family dinner. no one apologizes for any accident, such as overturning a glass of claret, or dropping a spoon, or even breaking a glass. it is passed over in silence. no english lady ever reproves her servants at table, nor even before her husband and children. her duty at table is to appear serene and unruffled. she puts her guests at their ease by appearing at ease herself. in this respect english hostesses are far ahead of american ones. in the matter of public holidays and of their amusements the english people behave very unlike american people. if there is a week of holidays, as at whitsuntide, all the laboring classes go out of town and spend the day in the parks, the woods, or the country. by this we mean shop-girls, clerks in banks, lawyer's clerks, young artists, and physicians, all, in fact, who make their bread by the sweat of their brows. as for the privileged classes, they go from london to their estates, put on plain clothes, and fish or bunt, or the ladies go into the woods to pick wild-flowers. the real love of nature, which is so honorable a part of the english character, breaks out in great and small. in america a holiday is a day when people dress in their best, and either walk the streets of a great city, or else take drives, or go to museums or theatres, or do something which smacks of civilization. how few put on their plain clothes and stout shoes and go into the woods! how much better it would be for them if they did! at whitsuntide the shop-girls of london--a hard worked class--go down to epping forest, or to hampton court, or to windsor, with their basket of lunch, and everywhere one sees the sign "hot water for tea," which means that they go into the humble inn and pay a penny for the use of the teapot and cup and the hot water, bringing their own tea and sugar. the economy which is a part of every englishman's religion could well be copied in america. even a duchess tries to save money, saying wisely that it is better to give it away in charity than to waste it. an unpleasant feature of english life is, however, the open palm, every one being willing to take a fee, from a penny up to a shilling, for the smallest service. the etiquette of giving has to be learned. a shilling is, however, as good as a guinea for ordinary use; no one but an american gives more. the carriage etiquette differs from ours, as the gentleman of the family rides beside his wife, allowing his daughters to ride backwards. he also smokes in the park in the company of ladies, which looks boorish. however, no gentleman sits beside a lady in driving unless he is her husband, father, son, or brother. not even an affianced lover is permitted this seat. it must be confessed that the groups in hyde park and in rotten row and about the serpentine have a solemn look, the people in the carriages rarely chatting, but sitting up in state to be looked at, the people in chairs gravely staring at the others. none but the people on horseback seem at their ease; they chat as they ride, and, all faultlessly caparisoned as they are, with well-groomed horses, and servants behind, they seem gay and jolly. in america it is the equestrian who always looks preoccupied and solemn, and as if the horse were quite enough to manage. the footmen are generally powdered and very neatly dressed in livery, in the swell carriages, but the coachmen are not so highly gotten up as formerly. occasionally one sees a very grand fat old coachman in wig and knee- breeches, but jeames yellowplush is growing a thing of the past even in london. a lady does not walk alone in the park. she may walk alone to church, or to do her shopping, but even this is not common. she had better take a hansom, it now being proper for ladies to go out to dinner alone in full dress in one of these singularly open and exposed-looking carriages. it is not an uncommon sight to see a lady in a diamond tiara in a london hansom by the blazing light of a summer sun. thus what we should shun as a very public thing the reserved english woman does in crowded london, and regards it as proper, while she smiles if she sees an american lady alone in a victoria in hyde park, and would consider her a very improper person if she asked a gentleman to drive out with her--as we do in our park every day of our lives--in an open carriage. truly etiquette is a curious and arbitrary thing, and differs in every country. in france, where they consider english people frightfully _gauche_, all this etiquette is reversed, and is very much more like ours in america. a frenchman always takes off his hat on entering or leaving a railway carriage if ladies are in it. an englishman never takes his hat off unless the princess of wales is passing, or he meets an acquaintance. he sits with it on in the house of commons, in the reading-room of a hotel, at his club, where it is his privilege to sulk; but in his own house he is the most charming of hosts. the rudest and almost the most unkind persons in the world, if you meet them without a letter or an introduction in a public place, the english become in their own houses the most gentle, lovely, and polite of all people. if the ladies meet in a friend's parlor, there is none of that snobbish rudeness which is the fashion in america, where one lady treats another as if she were afraid of contamination, and will not speak to her. the lady-in-waiting to queen victoria, the duchess, is not afraid of her nobility; her friend's roof is an introduction; she speaks. there is a great sense of the value of a note. if a lady writes a pretty note expressing thanks for civilities offered to her, all the family call on her and thank her for her politeness. it is to be feared that in this latter piece of good-breeding we are behind our english cousins. the english call immediately after a party, an invitation, or a letter of introduction. an elegant and easy epistolary style is of great use in england; and indeed a lady is expected even to write to an artist asking permission to call and see his pictures--a thing rarely thought of in america. chapter lvii. american and english etiquette contrasted. no sooner does the american traveller land in england than are forced upon his consideration the striking differences in the etiquette of the two countries, the language for common things, the different system of intercourse between the employee and the employer, the intense respectfulness of the guard on the railway, the waiter at the hotel, and the porter who shoulders a trunk, and the stately "manageress" of the hotel, who greets a traveller as "my lady," and holds out her hand for a shilling. this _respect_ strikes him forcibly. the american in a similar position would not show the politeness, but she would disdain the shilling. no american woman likes to take a "fee," least of all an american landlady. in england there is no such sensitiveness. everybody can be feed who does even the most elevated service. the stately gentlemen who show windsor castle expect a shilling. now as to the language for common things. no american must ask for an apothecary's shop; he would not be understood. he must inquire for the "chemist's" if he wants a dose of medicine. apothecaries existed in shakespeare's time, as we learn from "romeo and juliet," but they are "gone out" since. the chemist has been born, and very good chemicals he keeps. as soon as an american can divest himself of his habit of saying "baggage," and remark that he desires his "luggage sent up by the four train," the better for him. and it is the better for him if he learns the language of the country quickly. language in england, in all classes, is a much more elaborate and finished science than with us. every one, from the cad to the cabinet minister, speaks his sentences with what seems to us at first a stilted effort. there is none of the easy drawl, the oblivion of consonants, which mark our daily talk, it is very beautiful in the speech of women in england, this clear enunciation and the proper use of words. even the maid who lights your fire asks your permission to do so in a studied manner, giving each letter its place. the slang of england is the affectation of the few. the "general public," as we should say, speak our common language most correctly. at first it sounds affected and strained, but soon the american ear grows to appreciate it, and finds the pure well of english undefiled. the american lady will be sure to be charmed with the manners of the very respectable person who lets lodgings, and she will be equally sure to be shocked at the extortions of even the most honest and best-meaning of them. ice, lights, an extra egg for breakfast, all these common luxuries, which are given away in america, and considered as necessaries of existence, are charged for in england, and if a bath is required in the morning in the tub which always stands near the wash-stand, an extra sixpence is required for that commonplace adjunct of the toilette. if ladies carry their own wine from the steamer to a lodging-house, and drink it there, or offer it to their friends, they are charged "corkage." on asking the meaning of this now almost obsolete relic of barbarism, they are informed that the lodging-house keeper pays a tax of twenty pounds a year for the privilege of using wine or spirits on the premises, and seven shillings--equal to nearly two dollars of our money--was charged an invalid lady who opened one bottle of port and two little bottles of champagne of her own in a lodging-house in half-moon street. as it was left on the sideboard and nearly all drunk up by the waiter, the lady demurred, but she had no redress. a friend told her afterwards that she should have uncorked her bottles in her bedroom, and called it medicine. these abuses, practised principally on americans, are leading to the far wiser and more generous plan of hotel living, where, as with us, a man may know how much he is paying a day, and may lose this disagreeable sense of being perpetually plucked. no doubt to english people, who know how to cope with the landlady, who are accustomed to dole out their stores very carefully, who know how to save a sixpence, and will go without a lump of sugar in their tea rather than pay for it, the lodging-house living has its conveniences. it certainly is quieter and in some respects more comfortable than a hotel, but it goes against the grain for any one accustomed to the good breakfasts, the hearty lunch, and the excellent dinners of an american hotel of the better class, to have to pay for a drink of ice-water, and to be told that the landlady cannot give him soup and fish on the same day unless her pay is raised. indeed, it is difficult to make any positive terms; the "extras" will come in. this has led to the building of gigantic hotels in london on the american plan, which arise rapidly on all sides. the grand hotel, the bristol, the first avenue hotel, the midland, the northwestern, the langham, and the royal are all better places for an american than the lodging-house, and they are very little if any more expensive. in a lodging-house a lady must have a parlor, but in a hotel she can sit in the reading-room, or write her letters at one of the half-dozen little tables which she will find in each of the many waiting-rooms. london is a very convenient city for the writing and posting of letters. foreigners send out their letters of introduction and cards, expecting a reply in a few days, when, lo! the visitor is announced as being outside. here, again, london has the advantage of new york. the immediate attention paid to a letter of introduction might shame our more tardy hospitality. never in the course of the history of england has self-respecting londoner neglected a letter of introduction. if he is well-to-do, he asks the person who brings the letter to dinner; if he is poor, he does what he can. he is not ashamed to offer merely the hospitality of a cup of tea if he can do no more. but he calls, and he sends you tickets for the "zoo," or he does something to show his appreciation of the friend who has given the letter. now in america we are very tardy about all this, and often, to our shame, take no notice of letters of introduction. in the matter of dress the american lady finds a complete _bouleversement_ of her own ideas. who would not stare, on alighting at the fifth avenue hotel in the hot sunshine of a june evening, to find ladies trooping in at the public entrance dressed in red and blue and gold, with short sleeves or no sleeves, and very low corsage, no cloak, no head-covering? and yet at the grand hotel in london this is the nightly custom. these ladies are dressed for theatre or opera, and they go to dine at a hotel first. no bonnet is allowed at any theatre, so the full dress (which we should deem very improper at wallack's) is demanded at every theatre in london. of course elderly and quiet ladies can go in high dresses, but they must not wear bonnets. the laws of the medes and persians were not more strictly enforced than is this law by the custodians of the theatre, who are neatly dressed women ushers with becoming caps. here, again, is a difference of custom, as we have no women ushers in america, and in this respect the english fashion is the prettier. it would be well, if we could introduce the habit of going to the theatre bonnetless, for our high hats are universally denounced by those who sit behind us. the appearance of english women now to the stranger in london partakes of a character of loudness, excepting when on the top of a coach. there they are most modestly and plainly dressed. while our american women wear coaching dresses of bright orange silks and white satins, pink trimmed with lace, and so on, the english woman wears a plain colored dress, with a black mantilla or wrap, and carries a dark parasol. no brighter dress than a fawn-colored foulard appears on a coach in the great london parade of the four- in-hands. here the london woman is more sensible than her american cousin. the americans who now visit london are apt to be so plain and undemonstrative in dress that they are called shabby. perhaps alarmed at the comments once made on their loudness of dress, the american woman has toned down, and finds herself less gay than she sees is fashionable at the theatre and opera. but she may be sure of one thing--she should be plainly dressed rather than overdressed. as for dinner parties, one is asked at eight or half-past eight; no one is introduced, but every one talks. the conversation is apt to be low-voiced, but very bright and cordial--all english people unbending at dinner. it is etiquette to leave a card next day after a ball, and to call on a lady's reception day. for the out-of-door _f�tes_ at hurlington and sandhurst and the race days very brilliant toilettes of short dresses, gay bonnets, and so on, are proper, and as no one can go to the first two without a special invitation, the people present are apt to be "swells," and well worth seeing. the coaches which come out to these festivities have well-dressed women on top, but they usually conceal their gay dresses with a wrap of some sombre color while driving through london. no one makes the slightest advance towards an acquaintance or an intimacy in london. all is begun very formally by the presentation of letters, and after that the invitation must be immediately accepted or declined, and no person can, without offending his host, withdraw from a lunch or dinner without making a most reasonable excuse. an american gentleman long resident in london complains of his country-people in this respect. he says they accept his invitations to dinner, he gets together a most distinguished company to meet them, and at the last moment they send him word: "so sorry, but have come in tired from richmond. think we won't come. thank you." now where is his dinner party? three or four angry londoners, who might have gone to a dozen different dinners, are sulkily sitting about waiting for these americans who take a dinner invitation so lightly. the london luncheon, which is a very plain meal compared with ours-- indeed, only a family dinner--is a favorite hospitality as extended to americans by busy men. thus sir john millais, whose hours are worth twenty pounds apiece, receives his friends at a plain lunch in his magnificent house, at a table at which his handsome wife and rosy daughters assist. so with alma tadema, and the literary people whose time is money. many of the noble people, whose time is not worth so much, also invite one to lunch, and always the meal is an informal one. english ladies are very accomplished as a rule, and sometimes come into the drawing-room with their painting aprons over their gowns. they never look so well as on horseback, where they have a perfection of outfit and such horses and grooms as our american ladies as yet cannot approach. the scene at the corner of rotten row of a bright afternoon in the derby week is unapproachable in any country in the world. many american ladies, not knowing the customs of the country, have, with their gentlemen friends, mounted a coach at the langham hotel, and have driven to the derby, coming home very much shocked because they were rudely accosted. now ladies should never go to the derby. it is not a "lady" race. it is five hundred thousand people out on a spree, and no lady is safe there. ascot, on the contrary, _is_ a lady's race. but then she should have a box, or else sit on the top of a coach. such is the etiquette. it would be better for all americans, before entering london society, to learn the etiquette of these things from some resident. in driving about, the most aristocratic lady can use the most plebeian conveyance. the "four-wheeler" is the favorite carriage. a servant calls them from the door-step with a whistle. they are very cheap--one-and-sixpence for two miles, including a call not to exceed fifteen minutes (the call). the hansom cab with one horse is equally cheap, but not so easy to get in and out of. both these vehicles, with trunks on top of them, and a lady within, drive through the park side by side with the stately carriages. in this respect london is more democratic than new york. chapter lviii. how to treat english people. the highest lady in the realm, queen victoria, is always addressed by the ladies and gentlemen of her household, and by all members of the aristocracy and gentry, as "ma'am," not "madam," or "your majesty," but simply, "yes, ma'am," "no, ma'am." all classes not coming within the category of gentry, such as the lower professional classes, the middle classes, the lower middle classes, the lower classes (servants), would address her as "your majesty," and not as "ma'am." the prince of wales is addressed as "sir" by the aristocracy and gentry, and never as "your royal highness" by either of these classes, but by all other people he is addressed as "your royal highness." the other sons of queen victoria are addressed as "sir" by the upper classes, but as "your royal highness" by the middle and lower classes, and by all persons not coming within the category of gentry; and by gentry, english people mean not only the landed gentry, but all persons belonging to the army and navy, the clergy, the bar, the medical and other professions, the aristocracy of art (sir frederick leighton, the president of the royal academy, can always claim a private audience with the sovereign), the aristocracy of wealth, merchant princes, and the leading city merchants and bankers. the princess of wales and all the princesses of the blood royal are addressed as "ma'am" by the aristocracy and gentry, but as "your royal highness" by all other classes. a foreign prince is addressed as "prince" and "sir" by the aristocracy and gentry, and as "your serene highness" by all other classes; and a foreign princess would be addressed as "princess" by the aristocracy, or "your serene highness" by the lower grades, but never as "ma'am." an english duke is addressed as "duke" by the aristocracy and gentry, and never as "your grace" by the members of either of these classes; but all other classes address him as "your grace." a marquis is sometimes conversationally addressed by the upper classes as "markis," but generally as "lord a--," and a marchioness as "lady b--;" all other classes would address them as "marquis" or "marchioness." the same remark holds good as to earls, countesses, barons, baronnesses--all are "lord b--" or "lady b--." but americans, who are always, if presented at court, entitled to be considered as aristocracy and gentry, and as such are always received, must observe that english people do not use titles often even in speaking to a duke. it is only an ignorant person who garnishes his conversation with these titles. let the conversation with lord b flow on without saying "my lord" or "lord b--" more frequently than is absolutely necessary. one very ignorant american in london was laughed at for saying, "that isn't so, lord," to a nobleman. he should have said, "that isn't so, i think," or, "that isn't so, lord b--," or "my lord." the daughters of dukes, marquises, and earls are addressed as "lady mary," "lady gwendoline," etc. this must never be forgotten, and the younger sons of dukes and marquises are called "lord john b--," "lord randolph churchill," etc. the wife of the younger son should always be addressed by both the christian and surname of her husband by those slightly acquainted with her, and by her husband's christian name only by her intimate friends. thus those who know lady randolph churchill well address her as "lady randolph." the younger sons of earls, viscounts, and barons bear the courtesy title of "honorable," as do the female members of the family; but this is never used colloquially under any circumstances, although always in addressing a letter to them. baronets are addressed by their full title and surname, as "sir stafford northcote," etc., by persons of the upper classes, and by their titles and christian names by all lower classes. baronets' wives are addressed as "lady b--"or "lady c--." they should not be addressed as "lady thomas b--'" that would be to give them the rank of the wife of a younger son of a duke or marquis, instead of that of a baronet's wife only. in addressing foreigners of rank colloquially the received rule is to address them by their individual titles without the addition of the surname to their titles. in case of a prince being a younger son he is addressed as "prince henry," as in the case of prince henry of battenberg. the sons of the reigning monarchs are addressed as "your imperial highness." a foreign nobleman is addressed as "monsieur le duc," "monsieur le comte," "monsieur le baron," etc.; but if there is no prefix of "de," the individual is addressed as "baron rothschild," "count hohenthal," etc. while it is proper on the continent to address an unmarried woman as mademoiselle, without the surname, in england it would be considered very vulgar. "miss" must be followed by the surname. the wives of archbishops, bishops, and deans are simply mrs. a--, mrs. b--, etc., while the archbishop and bishop are always addressed as "your grace" and as "my lord," their wives deriving no precedency and no title from their husbands' ecclesiastical rank. it is the same with military personages. peeresses invariably address their husbands by their title; thus the duchess of sutherland calls her husband "sutherland," etc. baronets' wives call their husbands "sir john" or "sir george," etc. the order of precedency in england is strictly adhered to, and english matrons declare that it is the greatest convenience, as it saves them all the trouble of choosing who shall go in first, etc. for this reason, among others, the "book of the peerage" has been called the englishman's bible, it is so often consulted. but the question of how to treat english people has many another phase than that of mere title, as we look at it from an american point of view. when we visit england we take rank with the highest, and can well afford to address the queen as "ma'am." in fact, we are expected to do so. a well-bred, well-educated, well-introduced american has the highest position in the social scale. he may not go in to dinner with a duchess, but he is generally very well placed. as for a well- bred, handsome woman, there is no end to the privileges of her position in england, if she observes two or three rules. she should not effuse too much, nor be too generous of titles, nor should she fail of the necessary courtesy due always from guest to hostess. she should have herself presented at court by her minister or by some distinguished friend, if she wishes to enter fashionable society. then she has the privilege of attending any subsequent drawing-room, and is eligible to invitations to the court bails and royal concerts, etc. american women have succeeded wonderfully of late years in all foreign society from their beauty, their wit, and their originality. from the somewhat perilous admiration of the prince of wales and other royal highnesses for american beauties, there has grown up, however, a rather presumptuous boldness in some women, which has rather speedily brought them into trouble, and therefore it may be advisable that even a witty and very pretty woman should hold herself in check in england. english people are very kind in illness, grief, or in anything which is inevitable, but they are speedily chilled by any step towards a too sudden intimacy. they resent anything like "pushing" more than any other people in the world. in no country has intellect, reading, cultivation, and knowledge such "success" as in england. if a lady, especially, can talk well, she is invited everywhere. if she can do anything to amuse the company--as to sing well, tell fortunes by the hand, recite, or play in charades or private theatricals--she is almost sure of the highest social recognition. she is expected to dress well, and americans are sure to do this. the excess of dressing too much is to be discouraged. it is far better to be too plain than too fine in england, as, indeed, it is everywhere; an overdressed woman is undeniably vulgar in any country. if we could learn to treat english people as they treat us in the matter of _introductions_, it would be a great advance. the english regard a letter of introduction as a sacred institution and an obligation which cannot be disregarded. if a lady takes a letter to sir john bowring, and he has illness in his family and cannot ask her to dinner, he comes to call on her, he sends her tickets for every sort of flower show, the museums, the botanical garden, and all the fine things; he sends her his carriage--he evidently has her on his mind. sir frederick leighton, the most courted, the busiest man in london, is really so kind, so attentive, so assiduous in his response to letters of introduction that one hesitates to present a letter for fear of intruding on his industrious and valuable life. of course there are disagreeable english people, and there is an animal known as the english snob, than which there is no tasmanian devil more disagreeable. travellers everywhere have met this variety, and one would think that formerly it must have been more common than it is now. there are also english families who have a continental, one might say a cosmopolitan, reputation for disagreeability, as we have some american families, well known to history, who have an almost patrician and hereditary claim to the worst manners in the universe. well-born bears are known all over the world, but they are in the minority. it is almost a sure sign of base and ignoble blood to be badly mannered. and if the american visitor treats his english host half as well as the host treats him, he may feel assured that the _entente cordiale_ will soon be perfect. one need not treat the average englishman either with a too effusive cordiality or with that half-contemptuous fear of being snubbed which is of all things the most disagreeable. a sort of "chip on the shoulder" spread-eagleism formerly made a class of americans unpopular; now americans are in favor in england, and are treated most cordially. chapter lix. a foreign table d'hote, and casino life abroad. life at a french watering-place differs so essentially from that at our own saratoga, sharon, richfield, newport, and long branch, that a few items of observation may be indulged in to show us what an immense improvement we could introduce into our study of amusement by following the foreign fashions of simplicity in eating and drinking. the continental people never eat that heavy early meal which we call breakfast. they take in their rooms at eight o'clock a cup of coffee and a roll, what they call _caf� complet_, or they may prefer tea and oatmeal, the whole thing very simple. then at aix-les rains or vichy the people under treatment go to the bath, taking a rest afterwards. all this occupies an hour. they then rise and dress for the eleven o'clock _d�jeuner la fourchette_, which is a formal meal served in courses, with red wine instead of coffee or tea. this is all that one has to do in the eating line until dinner. imagine what a fine clear day that gives one. how much uninterrupted time! how much better for the housekeeper in a small boarding-house! and at a hotel where the long, heavy breakfast, from seven to eleven, keeps the dining-room greasy and badly ventilated until the tables must be cleared for a one or two o'clock dinner, it is to contrast order with disorder, and neatness with its reverse. the foreign breakfast at eleven is a delicious meal, as will be seen by the following bills of fare: _oeufs au beurre noir_; _saut� printanier_ (a sort of stew of meat and fresh vegetables); _viande froide panach�e_; _salade de saison_; _compote de fruit et p�tisserie_; _fromage_, _fruit_, _caf�_. another breakfast is: _oeufs au plat_; _poulet la godard_; _c'telettes de mouton grillees_; _reviere pommes de terre_; _flans d'apricot_; and so on, with every variety of stewed pigeon, trout from the lake, delicious preparations of spinach, and always a variety of the cheeses which are so fresh and so healthful, just brought from the alpine valleys. the highly flavored alpine strawberries are added to this meal. then all eating is done for the day until the six or seven o'clock dinner. this gives the visitor a long and desirable day for excursions, which in the neighborhood of aix are especially charming, particularly the drive to chambery, one of the most quaintly interesting of towns, through the magnificent break in the alps at whose southern portal stands la grande chartreuse. all this truly healthy disposition of time and of eating is one reason why a person comes home from a foreign watering-place in so much better trim, morally, mentally, and physically, than from the unhealthy gorging of our american summer resorts. at twelve or one begins the music at the casino, usually a pretty building in a garden. in this shady park the mammas with their children sit and listen to the strains of the best bands in europe. paris sends her artists from the ch�telet, and the morning finds itself gone and well into the afternoon before the outside pleasures of the casino are exhausted. here, of course, trip up and down on the light fantastic toe, and in the prettiest costumes of the day, all the daughters of the earth, with their attendant cavaliers. there are certain aspects of a foreign watering-place with which we have nothing to do here, such as the gambling and the overdressing of a certain class, but all is externally most respectable. at four or earlier every one goes to drive in the _voiture de place_ or the _voiture de remise_, the latter being a handsome hired carriage of a superior class. but the _voiture de place_, with a savoyard driver, is good enough. he knows the road; his sturdy horse is accustomed to the hills; he takes one for three francs an hour--about half what is charged at saratoga or sharon or richfield; he expects a few cents as pourboire, that is all. the vehicle is a humble sort of victoria, very easy and safe, and the drive is generally through scenery of the most magnificent description. ladies at a foreign watering-place have generally much to amuse them at the shops. antiquities of all sorts, especially old china (particularly old saxe), also old carved furniture from the well- known chateaux of savoy, are found at aix. the prices are so small compared with what such curiosities would bring in new york that the buyer is tempted to buy what she does not want, forgetting how much it will cost to get it home. old lace and bits of embroidery and stuffs are brought to the door. there is nothing too rococo for the peripatetic vender in these foreign watering-places. the dinner is a very good one. cooked by italian or french cooks, it may be something of this sort: _potage de riz_; _lavarets st. houlade_; filets de boeuf beaumaire_ (a delicious sauce with basil mixed in it, a slight taste of aniseed); _bouchers la reine_; _chapon roti au cresson_; _asperge au branches_; _glace au chocolat_; _caf�_; or: _potage au cr�cy_; _turbot aux c�pres_; _langue de boeuf_; _petits pois, lies au beurre_; _bombe vanille_; with fruits, cheese, and cakes, and always the wine of the country, for which no extra charge is made. these delicious meals cost--the breakfast four francs (wine included), the dinner ten francs. it would be difficult in our country to find such cooking anywhere, and for that price simply impossible. music in the casino grounds follows the dinner. the pretty women, by this time in the short, gay foulards and in the dressy hats in which they will appear later at the casino ball, are tripping up and down in the gas-lighted grounds. the scene is often illuminated by fireworks. at eight and a half the whole motley crew has entered the casino, and there the most amusing dancing--valse, galop, and polka --is in vogue. the pole is known by his violent dancing; "he strikes and flutters like a cock, he capers in the air, he kicks his heels up to the stars." there is heartiness in the dancing of the swedes and danes, there is mettle in their heels, but no people caper like the poles. the russians and the americans dance the best. they are the elegant dancers of the world. french women dance beautifully: "a fine, sweet earthquake, gently moved by the soft wind of their dispersing silks." no lady appears at the casino bareheaded; it is always with hat or bonnet, and she lives in her bonnet more or less even at the balls. if a concert or a play is going on in the little theatre, the same people take their places in boxes or seats, until every face becomes familiar, as one knows one's shipmates. sometimes pleasant acquaintances are thus formed. a very free-and-easy system of etiquette permits dancing between parties who have not been introduced, and the same privilege extends to the asking of a party of ladies to take an ice. all acquaintance ceases on leaving the casino, however, unless the lady chooses to bow to her cavalier. sometimes the steward of the casino gets up a fancy-dress ball under the patronage of some lady, and then the motley crew appear as historical characters. it is a unique and gay spectacle. here in the land of the old masters some very fine representations of the best pictures are hastily improvised, and almost without any apparent effort the whole ball is gotten up with spirit and ingenuity. this, too, among people who never met the day before yesterday. there is a wide range of costume allowed for those who take part in these revelries. the parquet floor of a foreign casino is the most perfect thing for good dancing. they understand laying these floors there better than we do, and the climate does not alter them, as with us. they are the pleasantest and easiest of all floors to dance upon. not the least striking episode to an american eye is the sight of many priests and men in ecclesiastical garments at these casinos. the number of priestly robes everywhere strikes the visitor to a french watering-place most emphatically. the schoolmasters are young priests, and walk about with their boys, and the old priests are everywhere. a solemn procession crosses the gay scene occasionally. three or four acolytes bearing censers, a group of mourners, a tall and stately nun in gray robes and veil walking magnificently, and moving her lips in prayer; then a group of people; then a priest with book in hand saying aloud the prayers for the dead; then the black box, the coffin, carried on a bier by men, the motley crowd uncovering as the majesty passes; and the boys follow, chanting, "the glories of our birth and state are shadows, not substantial things; there is no armor against fate; death lays his icy hand on kings." yes, and on the gay visitor at the casino. these simple and unostentatious funerals are very impressive. the priests always walk bareheaded through the streets on these occasions, and on many others. indeed, the priestly head seems impatient of a hat. the f�tes of the peasants are things to go and see, and the unalterable differences of rank are deeply impressed on the american mind. an old peasant woman has brought cheese and milk into aix for forty years, and now, in her sixties, she still brings them, and walks eight miles a day. there is no hope that her daughter will ever join in the gayeties of the casino, as in america she might certainly aspire to do. the daughter will be a peasant, as her mother was, and far happier and more respectable for it, and certainly more picturesque. how many of the peasant dresses have given an idea to the modiste! and one sees in the fields of savoy the high hat with conical crown, with brim either wide or flat, which has now become so fashionable; also the flat mushroom hat of straw with the natural bunch of corn and red poppy, which has gone from fanchon up to the duchess. they both come from the fields. of course horse-races, formed after the plan of longchamps, are inseparable from the amusements of a french watering-place; and in proportion to the number of guests to be amused; the horses come down from the various stables. pigeon-shooting goes on all the time. it is said that the french have a greater hatred of ennui than any other people in the world. they do not know what it means. they amuse themselves all the time, and are never at a loss. the well- bred french women have as much energy and industry as any new england woman, but they take their amusement more resolutely, never losing music, gayety, and "distraction." perhaps what amuses them might not amuse the more sober saxon, but the delicate embroidery of their lives, with all that comes thus cheaply to them, certainly makes them a very delightful set. their manners are most fascinating, never selfish, never ponderous, never self-conscious, but always most agreeable. the french woman is _sui generis_. she may no longer be very young; she never was very handsome. every sensation that the human mind can experience she has experienced; every caprice, whim, and fancy that human imagination can conceive she has gratified. she is very intelligent; she was born with a perfect taste in dress; and she is--all the novelists to the contrary notwithstanding--a very good wife, an excellent mother, a charming companion, a most useful and sensible helpmeet, with a perfect idea of doing her half of the business of life, and of getting out of her hours of leisure all the amusement she can. at a french watering-place the french women of the better class are most entirely at home and intensely agreeable. frost's laws and by-laws of american society a condensed but thorough treatise on etiquette and its usages in america, containing plain and reliable directions for deportment in every situation in life on the following subjects: letters of introduction, salutes and salutations calls, conversation, invitations, dinner company, balls, morning and evening parties, visiting, street etiquette, riding and driving, travelling, etiquette in church, etiquette for places of amusement, servants, hotel etiquette, etiquette at weddings, baptisms and funerals. etiquette with children and at the card table, visiting cards, lettter-writing, the lady's toilet, the gentleman's toilet, besides one hundred unclassified laws applicable to all occasions by s. a. frost, author of "frost's letter-writer," etc. preface. for a long time the little book which we now offer to the public has been wanted in the library of the fashionable world; the customs, the etiquette, the different obligations which society imposes upon those who live in its midst, change frequently, and although the general principles are the same, although politeness and civility are of all epoques and times, nevertheless there are few persons so entirely at home in all the forms that they do not on some occasion feel hesitation as to the proper manner of conducting themselves. indeed, besides the broader and more essential rules of politeness, there are certain conventionalities adopted by good society, which, sanctioned by custom and absolute obligation, cannot, without some good reason, be neglected by the truly polite gentleman or lady. every day the question is raised whether such and such a custom is adopted, received, and proper; there will constantly arise a doubt about the details of some ceremony, the proper hour for some entertainment, the true etiquette for some occasion. at such a time, there is a regret felt that there is not at hand, in one's own library, a safe guide, an experienced counsellor, who will answer such questions, so trifling in appearance, so important in reality. a breach of etiquette, an involuntarily omission of some point of politeness, may often have a serious influence upon the future of the perpetrator. none of these little details are to be scorned they have each and every one a value. it is to meet the want already mentioned that this little volume has been prepared. it makes no claim to originality; but its aim is to be perfectly reliable. english, french, and american authorities of weight have been consulted, and nothing admitted that was not sanctioned by experience and the customs of the best society. books, it is very true, have been already written upon this subject; but they are for the most part filled with useless details, and often do not contain what is of most importance. the aim of the editor of the present work has been to avoid both extremes, to select only what was useful, reliable, and well established, and to reject only what was valueless or mere repetition. the subjects treated are all classed that they may have easy reference, and admit of consultation at a moment's notice. the little book goes forth with one pretension only, one ambition alone--to be useful. contents. etiquette and its uses introductions letters of introduction salutes and salutations calls conversation invitations dinner company balls morning and evening parties visiting street etiquette riding and driving travelling etiquette in church etiquette for places of amusemfent servants hotel etiquette wedding etiquette etiquette for baptisms etiquette for funerals etiquette of the studio table etiquette etiquette with children games with cards visiting cards letter writing the lady's toilet the gentleman's toilet miscellaneous --- the laws and by-laws of american society. etiquette and its uses. there are a great many people, in other respects perfectly estimable (which makes the complaint against them the more grievous) who maintain that the laws of nature are the only laws of binding force among the units which compose society. they do not assert their doctrine in so many words, but practically they avow it, and they are not slow to express their contempt for the "ridiculous etiquette" which is declared by their opponents to be essential to the well being of society. these people are probably a law to themselves in such matters; they obey in their rules of conduct those instincts of propriety and good manners which were implanted in them at their birth, and cultivated probably by their education, and therefore they have small need to study especially how to conduct themselves in their intercourse with society. in such cases, their opposition to a written code of manners is rather an affair of theory than of practice, and it seems rather absurd that they should so emphatically denounce the system which they themselves, by example rather than precept, thoroughly carry out. they would be probably as averse to committing any act of rudeness, or any breach of politeness as the warmest admirer of the primitive life of the indian would be to living himself in a dirty tent, and eating his food, half cooked, on a forked-stick over a camp fire. for such people this little code of the "laws and by-laws of american society" is not written. there are others who are equally fierce in their denunciations of the ridiculous etiquette above mentioned, but who have not the same natural excuse for being so. these are the rude, rough natures, whom no amount of social rubbing, or intercourse with the most refined would polish, though the professors of the art of good breeding polished never so wisely. they act in their rules of conduct on a principle wholly selfish, making their own ease and comfort the first, if not indeed the sole aim, regardless entirely of the amount of inconvenience or discomfort they may occasion to others. they are obliged to cry down, for mere consistency's sake, the system which condemns their own course of action, and which gives certain laws for governing the conduct, and certain other laws prohibiting many of the acts of rudeness which they find so agreeable, but which others may reasonably object to as offensive. such persons, too, will of course freely express their opinion, yet their denunciations will probably produce an exactly opposite effect to the one they intend, their own conduct proving the pernicious influence of their theory. their abuse will be, not the expression, half in badinage, of minds protesting by anticipation against the abuse of forms and ceremonies; but the ignorant invective of coarse-minded people against a principle that would tame them, and mould them into a more agreeable presence. they exclaim loudly against what they personally dislike, however beneficial it may be either to themselves or others. for them this little book of the "laws and by-laws of american society" is not written. besides the two classes already mentioned, there is another exceedingly large class of society, which, far from being boorish by nature, yet from circumstances lacks the cultivation which alone will bring the conduct into such training as will fit it practically for exhibition in society. to the persons comprising this class, it is not only a source of regret, but of absolute pain, to be ignorant of the rules which make society cohere, which mark out the functions and duties of the various members which comprise it, and which guard alike against annoyances from the impertinent, and intrusions by the ill-bred, promoting by organized methods the formation of desirable acquaintanceship and pleasant friendships, which otherwise might never take place. isolation from society, the want of proper instruction, the ill effect of bad example, the advice of the prejudiced, the association with the low-bred, and a hundred other causes, may conspire to prevent that intimacy with the cardinal rules of good behavior, which decorum and good breeding have dictated for the better guidance of the community. it is for such persons, and for the many others who, though not unacquainted with the principles which should guide them in their conduct, are yet often at fault upon questions of detail, and sometimes commit errors, which are the more excusable that absolute rules, deduced from precedent and established by practice alone could set them right, that this code of modern etiquette has been prepared. to them it is offered as supplying a need which it is their misfortune, rather than their fault, to experience, in the hope that it will be found to contain a complete guide for them in the open paths and by-paths too of good society. before beginning to lay down the rules and ordinances of etiquette, it will be well to say a few words upon etiquette itself. etiquette is, in point of fact, nothing more nor less than the law, written and unwritten, which regulates the society of civilized people, distinguishing them from the communities of barbarous tribes, whose lives are hard and their manners still harder. it is to a well disciplined and refined mind the fundamental principle of action in all intercourse with society, and they are interested in maintaining it in its integrity, and bound to heed and obey its simplest as well as more formal precepts. the real law-giver is the general convenience, speaking with authority and the experience of many years; and it will be found that even in those cases, where the meaning of its rules may be somewhat obscure at first sight, there is an underlying reason for the regulation laid down. etiquette, like every other human institution, is of course liable to abuse; it may be transformed from a convenient and wholesome means of producing universal comfort into an inconvenient and burdensome restraint upon freedom and ease. it may become the first consideration, instead of more properly the second, as is often the case with the instrumental accompaniment to a song, and then it becomes, as does the accompaniment, an intolerable nuisance. the mere form, over-riding and hiding the spirit which should control and guide it; an entirely artificial state of things, taking the place of the natural, must inevitably produce discomfort and extravagance of behavior. nature is thus made the slave of art, instead of art taking its proper place as the handmaid to nature. etiquette, to be perfect, therefore, must be like a perfectly fitting garment, which, beautifying and adorning the person, must yet never cramp or restrain perfect freedom of movement. any visible restraint will mar its grace, as a wrinkle will mar the pure outline of the garment. most people have heard of the gentleman (?) who was perfect in his knowledge of the laws of etiquette, and who, seeing a man drowning, took off his coat and was about to plunge into the water to rescue him, when he suddenly remembered that he had never been introduced to the struggling victim, and resuming his coat, tranquilly proceeded upon his way. not less absurd are a thousand instances where a regard for formal mannerism takes the place of the easy grace that is the mark of true politeness, which being well acquired and habitual, is never obtrusive or offensively prominent. too rigid an observance of the laws of etiquette makes them an absurdity and a nuisance. but, because the laws of etiquette may be made a restraint under injudicious management, it does not follow that they should be disregarded or in any way set aside. the abuse of them is no argument against them, any more than gluttony is any reason for starvation. it is not the food that is in fault, but the excess of the person partaking of it. the fault must be laid wholly and solely at the door of those who misunderstand the use and intention of really sound and excellent precepts. the extravagance of an overdisplay of etiquette is really only another form of innate vulgarity, although there are instances which may be drawn from the side of over refinement, from the history of people and societies, who become extravagant in their devotion to what they deem good breeding, simply because, like the stars that looked down upon molly bawn, "they'd nothing else to do." there are to be found, even in grave history--amid the records of war, treaties, conquests, administrations and revolutions-- accounts given in equally grave language of deep questions of etiquette which seem to have been debated and settled with as much care and energy as the most serious questions of state affairs. cases of this sort are announced and well founded. whoever likes to see the extent to which attention was given to the subject can seek instances in the memoirs of public characters who lived in the seventeenth century, in the diaries of minute detailers like the duke de st. simon, page to his most christian majesty, louis the fourteenth; like sir john finett, master of ceremonies to charles the first, and in the domestic histories of the courtiers and grandees of the spanish and venetian courts. fortunately, the time has gone by when nice questions about trifling points of etiquette served to light the flame of civil war, as once they did in france, and to set the whole of the upper class in a kingdom in arms. we owe this, perhaps, as much to the general increase of civilization as to the working of any particular set of rules or system. but the principle which actuated the french nobility, at the time alluded to, is an inherent one in the human mind, and would be likely to repeat itself in some shape or another, not so violently perhaps, but still to repeat itself, were it not kept in check by the known laws of society. mr. buckle tells us that as late as the reign of louis the fourteenth, the right to sit in the presence of the french king "was considered to be a matter of such gravity that in comparison with it a mere struggle for liberty faded into insignificance." there was a perpetual striving which should be accounted greatest. according to the old code of etiquette, a duke's wife might sit in the french queen's presence, but no one under that rank could do so. a combination of marquises, counts, and other nobles was formed and wrung from the hand of louis the fourteenth, this concession that the ladies of the house of bouillon might sit in the presence of the queen. but this was fuel to the fire of the combined noblemen's anger; two hostile parties were formed, and the question of etiquette was nearly being decided by the sword. it required all the tact and statesmanship of mazarin to prevent this, and in the end the right was conceded to three of the most distinguished ladies of the lower aristocracy, to sit down in the presence of the queen. upon this, the superior nobility summoned their adherents to paris, and really a severe struggle followed, which ended in the last mentioned concession being revoked; and so great was the importance attached to the revocation that nothing would satisfy the nobles short of the public withdrawal being drawn up in a state paper, signed by the queen's regent, countersigned by the four secretaries of state, and conveyed to the assembly of nobles by four marshals of france. the french memoirs of this period (the seventeenth century) abound with references to just such questions of court etiquette; who might use an arm-chair at court; who was to be invited to the royal dinner; who might be kissed by the queen; what degree of nobility entitled a man to be driven to the louvre in a coach; whether all dukes were equal, or whether, as some thought, the duke de bouillon, having once possessed the sovereignty of sedan, was superior to the duke de la rochefoucauld, who had never possessed any sovereignty at all; who should give the king his napkin at dinner, and who might have the honor of assisting at the toilet of the queen. the question whether the duke de beaufort ought or ought not to enter the council chamber before the duke de nemours, and whether, being there, he ought or ought not to sit above him, caused a violent quarrel between the two dukes in , a quarrel which, of course, ended in a duel, and the death of the duke de nemours. the equally grave question, whether a duke should sign before a marshal was violently disputed between the duke de rohan and one of the marshals of henry the fourth, and the king was obliged to interfere in the matter. these, of course, are but so many instances of the principle of etiquette carried to an extravagant length, and simply prove the danger there is in allowing things of less importance to supersede or take the precedence of those of greater weight. they serve to explain, and in some measure to excuse the denunciatory expressions which many thoroughly well-bred people use against etiquette, such expressions being, as before suggested, merely protests uttered in anticipation of a repetition of the absurdity which over-attention to ceremonies is liable to introduce. but such cases are really no argument against etiquette itself, without deference to which it would be impossible to live in anything like freedom from annoyance from persons naturally impertinent, or in the full enjoyment of that social liberty which every one has a right to expect. good breeding is, as lord chesterfield well says, "the result of much good sense, some good nature, and a little self-denial for the sake of others, and with a view to obtain the same indulgence from them." lord bacon, in his admirable essay on ceremonies, says: "not to use ceremonies at all, is to teach others not to use them again, and so diminisheth respect to himself; especially they be not to be omitted to strangers and formal natures; but the dwelling upon them, and exalting them above the moon is not only tedious, but doth diminish the faith and credit of him that speaks." to quote again from lord chesterfield, who says: "good sense and good nature suggest civility in general; but in good breeding there are a thousand little delicacies which are established only by custom." it is precisely these "little delicacies" which constitute the difference between politeness and etiquette. politeness is that inborn regard for others which may dwell in the heart of the most ignorant boor, but etiquette is a code of outward laws which must be learned by the resident in good society, either from observation or the instruction of others. it is a poor argument used against etiquette that it is not truthful, and that uncouth manners are more frank and sincere than polished and refined ones. is truth then a hedgehog, always bristling and offensive. cannot truth be spoken in courteous accents from a kind, gentle impulse, as well as blurted out rudely and giving pain and mortification? it is true that roughness and sincerity often abide together, but would it destroy the honesty to polish away the roughness? etiquette, it is sometimes urged, is used to cloak what is hollow, unmeaning and false, yet may it not also drape gracefully what is true, sincere and important? true politeness must come from the heart, from an unselfish desire to please others and contribute to their happiness; when upon this natural impulse is placed the polish of a complete and thorough knowledge of the laws of etiquette, the manners must be perfect and graceful. etiquette added to natural politeness is as a beautiful jewel upon a tasteful dress. ruskin thus defines a gentleman: "a gentleman's first character is that firmness of structure in the body which renders it capable of the most delicate sensation, _and of that structure in the mind which renders it capable of the most delicate sympathies_--one may say simply fineness of nature. this is, of course, compatible with heroic bodily strength and mental firmness; in fact, heroic strength is not conceivable without such delicacy. elephantine strength may drive its way through a forest, and feel no touch of the boughs, but the white skin of homer's atrides would have felt a bent rose leaf, yet subdue its feelings in glow of battle, and behave itself like iron. i do not mean to call an elephant a vulgar animal; but if you think about him carefully, you will find that his non- vulgarity consists in such gentleness as is possible to elephantine nature; not in his insensitive hide, nor in his clumsy foot, but in the way he will lift his foot if a child lies in his way; and in his sensitive trunk, and still more sensitive mind, and capability of pique on points of honor.... "hence it will follow, that one of the probable signs of high breeding in men generally will be their kindness and mercifulness; these always indicating more or less firmness of make in the mind." undoubtedly the first law of good breeding is unselfishness, that thorough forgetfulness of one's own wants and comforts, and thoughtfulness for the happiness and ease of others, which is the christian gentleman's rule of life; which makes him yield the easy chair to another older and weaker than himself, and sit upon a narrow bench, or perhaps stand up; which selects for another the choicest portions of the dishes upon the table, and uncomplainingly dines off what is left; which hears with smiling interest the well- worn anecdotes of the veteran story-teller; which gently lifts the little child, who has fallen, and comforts the sobbing grief and terror; which never forgets to endeavor to please others, and seems, at least, pleased with all efforts made to entertain himself. place the code of politeness beside that of vulgarity and see if the one does not contain all virtue, the other vice. is not good temper virtuous and polite, bad temper vicious and vulgar? is not self denial virtuous and polite, selfishness vicious and vulgar? is not truth virtuous and polite, scandal vicious and vulgar? take every principle in the conventional code of the perfectly well-bred, and so define it, and not a virtue is rude. true etiquette, as we have said before, is not politeness, yet it is founded upon the same basis. an english author says: "etiquette may be defined as the minor morality of life. no observances, however minute, that tend to spare the feelings of others, can be classed under the head of trivialities; and politeness, which is but another name for general amiability, will oil the creaking wheels of life more effectually than any of those unguents supplied by mere wealth or station." to be truly polite, one must be at once good, just and generous, has been well said by a modern french writer: "true politeness is the outward visible sign of those inward spiritual graces called modesty, unselfishness, generosity. the manners of a gentleman are the index of his soul. his speech is innocent, because his life is pure; his thoughts are direct, because his actions are upright; his bearing is gentle, because his blood, and his impulses, and his training are gentle also. a true gentleman is entirely free from every kind of pretence. he avoids homage, instead of exacting it. mere ceremonies have no attractions for him. he seeks not only to say civil things, but to do them. his hospitality, though hearty and sincere, will be strictly regulated by his means. his friends will he chosen for their good qualities and good manners; his servants for their thoughtfulness and honesty; his occupations for their usefulness, or their gracefulness, or their elevating tendencies, whether moral, or mental, or political. and so we come round again to our first maxims, _i.e._, that 'good manners are the kindly fruit of a refined nature.' "and if this be true of mankind, how still more true is it of womankind! granted that truthfulness, gracefulness, considerateness, unselfishness, are essential to the breeding of a true gentleman, how infinitely essential must they be to the breeding of a true lady! that her tact should be even readier, her sympathies even tenderer, her instinct even finer than those of the man, seems only fit and natural. in her politeness, prevcyance, and all the minor observances of etiquette, are absolutely indispensable. she must be even more upon her guard than a man in all those niceties of speech, look and manner, which are the especial and indispensable credentials of good breeding. every little drawing-room ceremonial, all the laws of society, the whole etiquette of hospitality must be familiar to her. and even in these points, artificial though they be, her best guide after all, is that kindness of heart which gives honor where honor is due, and which is ever anxious to spare the feelings and prejudices of others. "every mistress of a house, be it remembered, is a minor sovereign, upon whose bounty the comfort, and happiness, and refinement of her little court depends. she must take especial care that her servants are capable, well trained and reliable, and that her domestic arrangements are carried on as noiselessly and easily as if by machinery. in a well ordered house the machinery is always in order, and always works out of sight. no well-bred woman talks of her servants, of her dinner arrangements, or the affairs of her nursery. one feels these matters to be under her _surveillance_, and that fact alone is a guarantee of their good management. the amusements and comforts of her guests are provided for without discussion or comment; and whatever goes wrong is studiously withheld from the conversation of the drawing-room. and let no lady, however young, however beautiful, however gifted, for one moment imagine that the management of her house can be neglected with impunity. if she is rich enough to provide an efficient housekeeper, well and good; but, even so, the final responsibility must still rest upon her, and her alone. no tastes, no pleasures must stand in the way of this important duty; and even if that duty should at first seem irksome, the fulfillment of it is sure to bring its own reward. "the very atmosphere of the house proclaims the mistress. the servants wear a cheerful air, and meet you with candid and friendly faces; the rooms are tastefully furnished; an irreproachable cleanliness and neatness reign around. the unexpected guest finds an orderly table and an unembarrassed welcome. in such a house, scandal finds no favor, and conversation never degenerates into gossip. in such a home, peace and plenty and goodwill are permanent household gods." the most perfect law of politeness, the safest and surest guide in all that pertains to the true definition of a gentleman or lady is, after all, the christian rule: "do unto others as you would others should do unto you." no one with this for a guide can ever fail in true, genuine _politeness_, and that politeness will soon lead him to learn and remember all the prevailing rules of established _etiquette_. introductions. never introduce people to each other unless you are sure the acquaintance so commenced will be mutually agreeable. a person who, from youth, social position or any other cause, stands in the inferior position of the two persons to be introduced to each other, must be introduced to the superior. a gentleman is always to be introduced to a lady, never a lady to a gentleman. at a ball, it is the part of the host and hostess to make introductions amongst the guests; but guests may with perfect propriety introduce friends to each other. gentlemen must never introduce friends to ladies, without first obtaining special permission to do so, and this permission should be always granted, unless there is a very strong reason for the refusal. the french, and in a great measure the english, dispense with introductions at a private ball. it is taken for granted that the hostess has invited to her ball only such people as are fit to be mutually acquainted, and the fact that they have been invited to meet each other is a sufficient warrant for self-introduction. this practice saves a great deal of trouble, but it applies only to balls in private houses. at any public ball, partners must be introduced to each other; indeed it is better for ladies at such entertainments, to dance only with the gentlemen of their own party, or with whom they had a previous acquaintance. special introductions may, however, be made with propriety by the master of ceremonies. when introducing two gentlemen, look first to the elder, or, if there is any difference in social standing, to the superior, and with a slight bow say to him: "allow me to introduce my friend, mr. jones, to you;" then turning to your friend, repeat his name, and follow it by that of the gentleman to whom he is introduced, thus: "mr. smith, allow me to introduce my friend, mr. jones, to you. mr. jones, mr. smith." in introducing a gentleman to a lady, bow slightly to the latter, saying, "miss---, allow me to introduce mr.---; mr.---, (bowing to him) miss---." when several persons are introduced to one, it is sufficient to name the single individual once, repeating all the names of the others, thus: "mr. johnson, allow me to introduce mr. and mrs. james, miss smithson, mr. lewis, mr. johnson," bowing slightly to each when named. shaking hands after an introduction has taken place is merely optional, not necessary; and is forbidden to an unmarried lady to whom a gentleman is introduced. a bow is all that etiquette requires. in introducing young persons to elder ones of good social standing, it is often a kindly act of encouragement for the latter to shake hands, with a few cordial words. it is not necessary to introduce people who meet at your house on morning calls, though it may be done with propriety if the introduction has been previously ascertained to be mutually pleasant. it is optional after such an introduction, with the parties introduced, to continue or drop the acquaintance so formed. without a formal introduction, the merely meeting at the house of a mutual friend, does not warrant any future recognition. it rests, however, after an introduction with the lady, if between lady and gentleman, with the married or elder lady, if between lady and lady, and with the elder, if between gentlemen, to continue or drop the acquaintance. gentlemen who meet at the house or rooms of a mutual friend are not obliged to recognize one another if they meet again elsewhere. there is no rule forbidding their doing so, if agreeable to both parties, but there is no requirement of etiquette obliging them to appear as if they had even met before. a lady is not obliged to afterwards recognize a partner with whom she may have danced at a ball. it is entirely optional with her to do so or not; and if she has danced several times with the gentlemen, it will be a question between her and her conscience how far she may consider herself justified in passing by without notice one who has extended to her so much courtesy at a ball. etiquette, however, does not require even the slightest recognition. when strangers in a city are introduced to residents it is customary to name the place from which they come, thus: "allow me to introduce to you my friend mr. schmidt, from germany. mr. schmidt, mr. popking;" or if introducing a traveller, "allow me to introduce my friend mr. robinson, lately returned from egypt." a pleasant opening is thus offered for conversation, and a foreigner may have the pleasure of a salutation in his own language. an important duty in introducing friends is to pronounce the name of each party clearly and distinctly, that no error or necessity for repetition may occur. it is often a positive kindness to take advantage of the etiquette which dispenses with introductions at morning calls. many a witty, talented person has had a stupid bore pursue him upon such an introduction, and even the one necessary conversation following an introduction is a painful effort, owing to the entire uncongeniality of the parties introduced. a friend visiting at your house must be introduced to all callers, who are bound to continue the acquaintance as long as the friend is your guest. so, if when calling upon a friend, you are introduced to a visitor, you are bound to extend all courtesies and attentions which you would desire paid to your visitors in similar circumstances. introductions, given at a party to a stranger visiting in a city, must be followed by recognition as long as the visit continues. if, when walking with one friend, you should meet another, it is not necessary to introduce them; indeed, you should not do so without special reason for it. never, even after an introduction, start a long conversation, unless all continue the walk in the same direction. should you, when walking with a friend, meet a lady who desires to speak to you, your friend must stop with you, yet an introduction under such circumstances does not exact any future recognition. sisters, brothers or other relatives may always be introduced to friends when met casually. if friends meet at public places of amusement and are accompanied by strangers, introductions are not required by etiquette, and if made do not oblige any future acquaintance. it is not necessary to have an introduction in order to pay your respects to the president of the united states, excepting that of the master of ceremonies at the receptions. he will receive your card and present you. for a private interview it is better to be introduced by a senator or a member of the house of representatives. in visiting foreign courts, introductions are more a matter of ceremony than in this country. if you wish to obtain an introduction to the emperor of france, you must address your request to the grand chamberlain, which may be done personally or by letter. your statement that you are an american citizen, and a reference to the american consul will procure you an interview. punctuality to the hour appointed for the interview is essential, and ladies present themselves in full dress; gentlemen in a dress suit of black, white vest, gloves and neck-tie. the ceremony of presentation will be explained before you are presented. in the english court, the ladies must be presented by a lady; gentlemen by a gentleman. strangers must have credentials from the consul before they can be introduced. if at a dinner, a ball, or upon any occasion you are introduced, at a friend's house, to one with whom you are not on good terms, though it be your bitterest enemy, etiquette requires you to salute him or her courteously, and make no sign of resentment whilst under your friend's roof. if you are introduced as a petitioner to any one in authority, that introduction does not authorize you in claiming an acquaintance afterwards. never introduce persons who may be related to you, without calling their full name. it is done very often, even amongst well-bred people, from thoughtfulness, as, "mrs. james, allow me to introduce my cousin frank; frank, mrs. james," and poor mrs. james is left entirely ignorant of cousin frank's name. the proper way is to name the relationship and also the surname of the relative. if you introduce a brother or sister even, marriage may have changed the name of one. you should say: "mrs. james, allow me to introduce to you my sister, miss curtis; miss curtis, mrs. james." if you are introduced to the relative of a friend, etiquette requires you to consider that relative an acquaintance, unless there is some special reason to the contrary. it is best to avoid introductions in a public conveyance, as few people like to have their names called out in such places. if such introductions are made, however, it should be done as quietly as possible. to introduce to a friend a person who is in any way objectionable, is an insult which fully justifies a withdrawal of friendship. a gentleman should always raise his hat, if introduced in the street, to either lady or gentleman. if introducing a foreigner or a gentleman in this country, whose position gives him an honorary title, always give the title. thus, if a member of congress, meeting a german baron at your house, you introduce them, you say: "mr. somers, allow me to introduce to you my friend, the baron von schmidt; baron von schmidt, the honorable mr. somers." letters of introduction. letters of introduction should never be given, except to persons well known to the person introducing them, and addressed to those only who have a long-standing friendship for the writer. amongst persons but slightly acquainted, such letters are not only foolish but positively dangerous, as you may thus give your countenance to those who will take advantage of your carelessness to bring you into mortifying, if not disgraceful positions. even amongst friends of long standing they should be given very cautiously and sparingly, as it is a great responsibility to send to your friend a visitor who may prove disagreeable, and you have no right whatever to call upon comparative strangers to extend hospitality or courtesy to your friends. letters of introduction should always be as short and concise as possible. if you wish to send any information to your friends about their visitor, send it in a separate letter by mail. the utmost brevity is of importance in the letter of introduction, as it is usually read in the presence of the party introduced, and the pause must necessarily be awkward. you may in a letter of introduction use a few words of warm, cordial feeling toward your friend, but praise of any kind is in as bad taste as it would be at a personal introduction. this rule, however, does not apply to letters introducing applicants for favor, office or position, which latter come more strictly under the head of letters of recommendation than merely letters of introduction. letters of introduction must be left unsealed invariably; they should be folded and addressed like any other letter, but it is a gross breach of etiquette to prevent the bearer from reading what you may have said of him to your friend. it is optional with the bearer to seal such letters before delivery, but it is customary to leave them open. a letter of introduction should not, unless circumstances make it absolutely unavoidable, be delivered in person. it should be sent, with the card of the person introduced, to the person to whom it is addressed, by a servant. the person receiving it should then call at once or send a written invitation to his house, and the person introduced may then call in person. if, however, the stay in the city is very short, these formalities must be omitted, and the person introduced call in person, sending in his letter and card by a servant. business letters of introduction should mention the errand and business of the party introduced, and if your own acquaintance is of recent date, mention by whom your were yourself introduced. letters introducing professional artists may contain a few words expressive of the pleasure conferred by the talent or skill of the person introduced. letters of introduction soliciting favors should be but seldom given, and never unless the claims upon both parties interested are very strong. there is no rule of etiquette prescribing the exact amount of attention required to be shown to the bearer of a letter of introduction by the person to whom it is addressed. a thousand circumstances of time, place, position, leisure and disposition of the parties must control this, but as a rule, the most generous hospitality and courtesy it is possible to give, should be extended to your friend's friend. it is a compliment to both the bearer and the writer of the letter. la fontaine says: "a letter of introduction is a draft at sight, and you must cash it." it might be added, "you must cash it in full, never allowing the courtesy exchange to be against the presenter of the draft." letters of introduction should bear upon the envelope the name and address of the party introduced, written in the left hand corner-- thus: john jones, esq., no. --- street, philadelphia. introducing l. f. townsend, esq., of troy. letters of introduction to and from business men, for business purposes, may be delivered by the bearers in person, and etiquette does not require the receiver to entertain the person introduced as the private friend of the writer. good nature and native courtesy would suggest some attentions, which could be increased according to the pleasure conferred or received, but it is entirely optional. letters of introduction are very useful to travellers, or those about to change their place of residence; care, however, should be especially taken in the latter case to present persons to each other only, who will prove mutually agreeable, as it is surely no friendly act to force upon your friends a life-long acquaintance, perhaps with uncongenial persons. a form is given for an ordinary letter of introduction, to be varied according to circumstances, always bearing in mind that brevity is essential, long acquaintance necessary, and some claim on both parties important, before giving any letters of introduction to your friends and acquaintances. "new york, august , . "james wilcox, esq., "dear sir:--allow me to introduce to you my friend, mr. loving, who will make a brief visit to your city. any attention you may be able to show him, during his stay, will be appreciated as a favor by, "yours sincerely, "e. b. lyons." (to be directed) "james wilcox, esq., "no. --- street, "washington, d.c. "introducing f. g. loving, esq., of new york." in receiving such a letter, bear in mind the courtesy extended is really a compliment to the writer of the letter, and such hospitality and courtesy as you extend you are entitled to claim again for your own friends at some future time. if you are in a position to do so, you should follow your first call by an invitation to dinner, or to meet friends in the evening, and if the new comer is a stranger in the city, select such friends to meet him or her, as will prove agreeable and valuable acquaintances. if your are a bachelor or boarding, and cannot extend the hospitalities of a home, offer your services as guide to points of interest in the city, places of public amusement, in short, extend any courtesy your purse or leisure time will warrant. it is contrary to etiquette for the bearer of a letter of introduction to visit too frequently the house to which he has just been introduced. the fact that mr. smith is your only friend in town, and has been cordial in his invitations to "make his house your home," does not justify you in pulling too frequently at mr. smith's door-bell, or presenting yourself at unseasonable hours in mrs. smith's drawing-room. in travelling abroad it is impossible to have too many letters of introduction. they take up but little room in a trunk, but their value when you find yourself "a stranger in a strange land," cannot be over-estimated. salutes and salutations. in this country men do not embrace each other, nor do they exchange kisses, while, unless amongst intimate friends, even the fair sex now dispense with demonstrative salutations. in many european countries kisses are exchanged, even between gentlemen, and an embrace is quite in accordance with even a somewhat formal salutation. in america, however, these demonstrations are mostly confined to gushing misses and school-girls. men in this country acknowledge an introduction by extending the right hand in greeting--the whole hand--for it is positively insulting to offer two fingers, as some under-bred snobs will sometimes do, and it is almost as bad to extend the left hand, unless two persons are introduced at the same time, or the right hand is useless or occupied; in any such case apologize for the hand extended. the right hand is the sword hand, and its extension to a friend is emblematic as a proof of peace, and as a safeguard against treachery. in offering the hand to a friend in the house, always remove the glove, and grasp the hand given in return firmly for a moment. in the street, however, the glove may be retained, if it would cause an awkward pause to remove it; but always in such a case apologize for the covered hand. in shaking hands, do not try to wring them off the wrists, nor press them as in a vise, nor pull them as though they were bell handles, nor fling the two together with violence, so as to cause a report. let the palms grasp each other firmly, but without any display of energy, and shake the hand moderately for a moment, then release it. mr. pecksniff was wont to clasp his left hand over his "dear friend's" right hand, resting in his own right. this practice may be very effective, from a scenic point of view, but it is not countenanced by any rule of etiquette. a lady must first recognize a gentleman by bowing before he is at liberty to salute her. she is the sole judge of the propriety of recognizing him at all, and etiquette requires the strictest deference to her desire in this respect. should she recognize him, he should raise his hat a little from his head, with the hand furthest from her, and return her salutation with a slight inclination of the body. he may not obtrude himself upon her notice even if he thinks she has not observed him. a lady should never stop in the street to salute a gentleman friend, nor may a gentleman join a lady in the street. should a lady, however, stop in meeting a gentleman, etiquette requires him to stop also, no matter how great his haste. if he is really unable to stop any time, he must at least pause long enough to state this fact, and apologize for leaving her in such haste. when a lady wishes to end a conversation in the street, she should bow slightly, and the gentleman must at once take his leave. if a lady resumes her walk without any pause in the conversation, a gentleman is then at liberty to join her in her promenade. married ladies are allowed more freedom in such matters than unmarried ones. it is against all established laws of etiquette for young unmarried ladies to do more than bow to gentlemen in the street, unless the fact of relationship allows some violation of strict etiquette. unless related, or upon terms of intimate friendship with a gentleman, a lady should never salute excepting by a slightly formal bow. a nod is vulgar, even when exchanged by intimate friends. in her own house, however, a lady should extend her hand in salutation to every guest who crosses her threshold. froissart, that charmingly quaint writer, tells of the dame of ancient days thus: "when sir walter manny and his men returned from a successful sortie out of henneboune, the chronicle tells us,' the countess de montfort came down from the castle to meet them, and with a most cheerful countenance kissed sir walter manny and all his companions, one after the other, like a noble and valiant dame.'" modern etiquette would hardly speak in praise of such a lady in the current year. on horseback a lady salutes by bowing slightly. a gentleman, grasping reins and whip in his left hand, raises his hat slightly with his right, at the same time inclining the body forward. he may not, however, join a lady riding, unless she is escorted only by a groom, and then he must first request permission to do so. never will a gentleman so far imitate a vulgar clown as to smack a friend on the back, poke him in the ribs, or by clapping his hand upon his shoulder. it is equally bad taste to use a familiar shout, or "hullo, old boy!" or any other "hail fellow, well met" phrase of salutation. if a gentleman salutes another by mistake, even if he has given him an unceremonious slap or poke, it is etiquette to treat the offender with the utmost courtesy. he will probably be sufficiently embarrassed, when he discovers his error, without having any blunt speech made to add to his discomfiture. if a gentleman meet a gentleman, be may salute him by touching his hat without removing it, but if a lady be with either gentleman both hats must be lifted in salutation. if a gentleman stops to speak to a lady, in the street, he must hold his hat in his hand during the interview, unless she requests him to replace it. with a gentleman friend etiquette does not require this formality. a gentleman may bow to a lady seated at a window, if he is passing on the street, but he must not bow from a window to a lady on the street. a gentleman may never offer to shake hands with a lady, but he must accept such an offer on her part, taking her hand lightly but firmly in his ungloved right one, and delicately shaking it for a moment. a pressure is an insult in such a case. in entering a church a gentleman must remove his hat as soon as his foot crosses the threshold of the sacred edifice. travellers will often omit this salutation in visiting churches abroad, whose faith differs from their own. there is no more certain sign of ill breeding as well as irreverence. a gentleman may always bow to a lady he may meet on a airway, even if not acquainted. if at the foot of the stairs, he must bow, pass her and ascend before her. if at the head of the stairs, he must bow, and wait for her to precede him in the descent. if two friends are walking together and meet a friend of one, a bow is all the salutation etiquette demands; if, however, one of the two stops to speak to the third, he owes the friend he accompanies an apology for the delay thus occasioned. in entering a room, a gentleman must take his hat, cane and gloves in his left hand, leaving his right hand free for salutation. if a gentleman, walking with a friend, meets a lady with whom his friend is acquainted, he must also bow, although the lady may be a stranger to him. the bow must be very slight and formal, merely, in fact, a compliment to his friend, and a mark of respect to the lady. a gentleman must always return a bow made to him in the street, even if he fails to recognize the person who makes it. it may be a person to whom he has been introduced, but whose face he has forgotten, and if it is an error on the part of the other, a courteous return of the salute will greatly diminish the embarrassment of the mistaken party. in meeting a party of friends with some of whom you are intimately acquainted, and with some only slightly, endeavor to make your salutations as equal as possible. a formal bow to one, and a gushing demonstration of delight over another is a breach of etiquette. be courteous and cordial to all. if a foreigner salute you after the fashion of his own country, do not draw back or allow yourself to smile, but strive to put him at his ease by taking no notice of the "national salute." kissing in public, even between intimate lady friends, is a vulgar parade of affection, that a truly refined person will shrink from. it is an insult to return a cordial grasp of the hand, and hearty greeting, by a cold bow or a flabby extension of a portion of the hand. even if you do not approve of the familiar greeting you should return it with some show of cordiality. the countess de --- speaking of salutations, says: "it would seem that good manners were originally the mere expression of submission from the weaker to the stronger. in a rude state of society every salutation is to this day an act of worship. hence the commonest acts, phrases and signs of courtesy with which we are now familiar, date from those earlier stages when the strong hand ruled, and the inferior demonstrated his allegiance by studied servility. let us take for example the words' sir' and' madam.'' sir' is derived from seigneur, sieur', sire, and originally meant lord, king, ruler, and in its patriarchal sense, father. the title of sire was last borne by some of the ancient feudal families of france who, as selden has said, 'affected rather to be styled by the name of sire than baron, as le sire de montmorenci and the like.' "madam or madame, corrupted by servants into 'ma'am,' and by mrs. gamp and her tribe into' mum,' is in substance equivalent to' your exalted,' or' your highness.' _ma dame_ originally meaning high- born or stately, and being applied only to ladies of the highest rank. "to turn to our every-day forms of salutation. we take off our hats on visiting an acquaintance. we bow on being introduced to strangers. we rise when visitors enter our drawing-room. we wave our hand to our friends as he passes the window, or drives away from our door. the oriental, in like manner, leaves his shoes on the threshold when he pays a visit. the natives of the tonga islands kiss the soles of a chieftain's feet. the siberian peasant grovels in the dust before a russian noble. each of these acts has a primary, a historical significance. the very word' salutation' in the first place, derived as it is from' salutatio,' the daily homage paid by a roman client to his patron, suggests in itself a history of manners. "to bare the head was originally an act of submission to gods and rulers. a bow is a modified protestation. a lady's courtesy is a modified genuflexion. rising and standing are acts of homage; and when we wave our hand to the friend on the opposite side of the street, we are unconsciously imitating the romans who, as selden tells us, used to stand somewhat off before the images of their gods, solemnly moving the right hand to the lips and casting it, as if they had cast kisses.' "again, men remove the glove when they shake hands with a lady--a custom evidently of feudal origin. the knight removed his iron gauntlet, the pressure of which would have been all too harsh for the palm of a fair _chatelaine_, and the custom which began in necessity has travelled down to us as a point of etiquette." general salutations of a mixed company are not now in vogue in the best society, where etiquette requires that we recognize only our own friends and acquaintances. in meeting at a friend's house where you are visiting a circle who are all entire strangers to you, remember that as mutual friends of the host and hostess you are bound whilst under the same roof to consider yourselves as acquaintances. no spirit of exclusiveness is an apology for a neglect of this, and no shyness can excuse a withdrawing into a corner, or clinging to one friend alone in such a circle. calls. when ladies have, according to the french custom, set apart one morning or one evening in the week for receiving callers, it is a breach of etiquette to call at any other time, unless a short visit in the city or business that will not admit of delay are the excuses. an hour in the evening, and from ten to twenty minutes in the morning are the limits for a formal call. when there is no time thus set apart, formal calls must be paid in the morning, but with friends of long standing the evening call is not only permissible, but often far more welcome. morning calls may be made by gentlemen in society upon all the occasions following: in answer to a letter of introduction sent to him, or to return the call if the letter is personally presented. in return for any hospitality offered to him when visiting another city, if the entertainer visit his own place of abode. in return for any favor received or courtesy extended to him by another gentleman. in return for an invitation to the house of a friend, whether the invitation has been accepted or declined, and this call must be made within the week following that during which the entertainment was given. on any occasion when a grief or a joy calls for expressions of condolence or congratulation in the circle of his friends. to greet the safe return of any friend who has been abroad, or away from home for any length of time. following any occasion when a lady has accepted his services as an escort, a gentleman must call to inquire after the health of his fair charge, and must not delay longer than the day after that upon which he has escorted the lady. after a wedding, at the time appointed for the reception of friends. when visiting in another city, upon any friends there, or upon those to whom letters of introduction have been given. in asking or granting a favor, a call is demanded by etiquette. the visit or call is a much better institution than the vulgar suppose. it is not without its objections, consuming valuable time, and giving occasion for gossip and small talk, but it is the most agreeable and customary way of turning a mere acquaintance into a friend. in a friendly call much of the restraint of meeting in large assemblies is thrown aside, mind meets mind much more easily in an easy _tete-a-tete_ conversation, and the conversation may be allowed to partake somewhat more of a personal character than it could in the ball-room or evening party. first calls require prompt return, even if you drop the acquaintance before the second one. morning calls must never be earlier than noon, evening ones never later than nine o'clock. when calling, if the room seems crowded, do not prolong your visit. a gentleman may never call with a friend upon a lady, unless the friend is previously acquainted, or he has obtained permission of the lady to introduce him. in making a formal call, a gentleman must retain his hat in his hand. an umbrella or cane may be left in the hall, never the hat or gloves. if the call is made in the evening, the hat and gloves must be held until the host or hostess gives an invitation to lay them aside and spend the evening. strict etiquette requires that such an invitation shall not be given, or if given, not accepted on the occasion of a first call. in making an informal call in the evening, a gentleman may leave hat, gloves, cane and overcoat in the hall. no gentleman will prolong a call if he finds his host or hostess dressed to go out. a brief visit with a promise to repeat it will place his entertainers at ease, and even if they urge a longer stay, the very fact that they were preparing to go out, proves their desire to do so. a card used in calling must never have anything upon it, but the name and address of the caller. nothing can show a greater ignorance of the customs of society than to use a business card for a friendly call. a physician may put the prefix dr. or the professional m.d., upon his card, and an army or navy officer his rank and branch of service. thus a civilian's card must be simply: james lawton, l--- street. a physician's: dr. jerome hayes, t--- street, or jerome hayes, m.d. an army officer's: lieut. james bennett, u. s. a. an naval officer's: lieut. henry keyser, u.s.n. in receiving a gentleman caller, a gentleman meets him at the door, takes his hat and cane, and places a chair for him, but a lady does not leave her seat to receive a gentleman, slightly rising to bow, and resuming her place again when her visitor is seated; in receiving another lady, a lady should rise and advance to meet her, also rise and accompany her to the door when leaving, unless she has other callers, in which case, she is not required to leave her place, only standing to bid her caller farewell. an english authority gives some excellent directions for calling upon occasions of congratulation or condolence. he says: "visits of condolence and congratulation must be made about a week after the event. if you are intimate with the person upon whom you call, you may ask, in the first case, for admission; if not, it is better to leave only a card, and make your "kind inquiries" of the servant, who is generally primed in what manner to answer them. in visits of congratulation you should always go in, and be hearty in your congratulations. visits of condolence are terrible inflictions to both receiver and giver, but they may be made less so by avoiding, as much as is consistent with sympathy, any allusion to the past. the receiver does well to abstain from tears. a lady of my acquaintance, who had lost her husband, was receiving such a visit in her best crape. she wept profusely for sometime upon the best broad-hemmed cambric handkerchiefs, and then turning to her visitor said: 'i am sure that you will be glad to hear that mr. b. has left me most comfortably provided for.' _hinc illae lachrymae._ perhaps they would have been more sincere if he had left her without a penny. at the same time, if you have not sympathy and heart enough to pump up a little condolence, you will do better to avoid it, but take care that your conversation is not too gay. whatever you may feel you must respect the sorrows of others." on marriage, cards are sent round to such people as you wish to keep among your acquaintances, and it is then their part to call first on the young couple, when within distance. a lady when calling keeps her parasol in her hand, and is not required to remove her glove. no dog, however "dear or interesting," can be admitted to the drawing-room, and it is bad taste to have one follow you from home, if you intend to make calls. it is better for a lady not to have a child with her when paying calls, unless it is trained to sit silent, or old enough to behave with quiet propriety. it is a sign of low-breeding to fidget with the hat, cane or parasol during a call. they are introduced merely as signs that the caller is in walking dress, and are not intended, the hat to be whirled round the top of the cane, the cane to be employed in tracing out the pattern of the carpet, or the parasol to be tapped on the teeth, or worse still, sucked. it is in bad taste for a caller to preface his or her departure by consulting a watch, remarking, "now i must go," or insinuating that the hostess is weary of the visitor. rise when ready to go, and express your pleasure at finding your friends at home, followed by a cordially expressed desire for a speedy meeting again. pelham said he always withdrew when he said something that produced a sensation, because he knew he must leave such an impression as would make people wish to see him again. the lady of the house should always ring when visitors rise to go, that a servant may be ready to show them out. when other callers arrive, it is in bad taste to rise at once as if driven away. let the first caller watch for a favorable opportunity to retire gracefully. if a gentleman calling sees a lady unescorted rise to go, he may with perfect propriety offer to escort her to her carriage, even if a stranger, but he must return again to make his own farewell bow to the hostess. the most trivial subjects are admissible for a call, and it is not in good taste to discuss deep interests, political questions or matters of grave moment. if strangers are in the room when a caller rises to leave, courtesy requires only a slight bow in passing. when calling, etiquette requires that a card be sent up. it will show that you have called, and if friends are at home, will prevent any confusion from mispronunciation of your name by the servant. when the lady of the house is not at home, a card must be left, and if there are two or more ladies, the turning down of one corner of the card signifies that the call was intended for all the family, if cards to be left preparatory to leaving town, the initials p. p. c. (_pour prendre conge_,* or, presents parting compliments), must be written in the left hand corner. if the departure is a hurried one, the card may be sent by a servant, but it is in better taste to leave it in person. ---- * to take leave. ----- cards sent during the illness of any member of the family to whom they are sent, must be accompanied by verbal inquiries regarding the patient's health. the same rule applies to the survivors when cards of condolence are sent. cards may be left or sent the day after a ball or large evening party. after a dinner party or small social gathering, cards must be left within the following week. when unable to accept an invitation to dinner, a call should soon afterwards be made to express regret at the inability to be present. visits of condolence are made within a week after the bereavement, unless the deceased be one of the immediate family, when a fortnight may be allowed to intervene. cards may, however, be left immediately after the death is known. the first call of a stranger must be returned within a week. married men are not obliged to make calls of ceremony in person. it is sufficient for their wives to leave their cards with their own. residents in a place make the first call upon any new comers. if a lady does not wish to receive visitors, her servant must be instructed to reply "not at home," to callers. this is not meant to imply that she is out of the house; merely that she is not home to callers. to say that she is "engaged" answers the same purpose, but such answers must be made upon the first inquiry, for if the visitor is announced, he or she may conclude the refusal is intended for that especial call. it is not necessary, nor is it customary in the city, to offer refreshments to callers. in the country, especially if the visitors have come from a distance, it is not only courteous, but often a positive kindness to do so. if a stranger come to stay at the house of a friend, those who are in the habit of visiting at the house should call as soon as possible, and such calls should be returned at the earliest practicable opportunity. a well-bred person should endeavor to be always prepared for callers. if it is impossible, during the day, to see your friends, instruct your servant to deny them at the door, but if once within house, no personal inconvenience should prevent you from presenting yourself. illness alone, either your own, or that of some one requiring your constant attention, can then excuse you. a lady should avoid keeping callers waiting. if they call before the hours etiquette has appointed, it is better to see them in the morning dress than to make them wait for a more elaborate toilet. if there is any fault, it is their own for intruding at improper hours. persons who do not keep a carriage should not make visits of ceremony in wet weather. it is ill-bred to enter a drawing-room, with a handsome carpet upon it, in muddy boots and spattered garments, to stand a dripping umbrella beside you, or deposit over-shoes in the hall. never resume your seat after having once left it to say adieu. there is nothing more awkward than to take leave twice. a lady who is receiving morning visits, may keep some trifling fancy-work in her hand, if she desires; but drawing, music, writing or any other absorbing occupation must at once be laid aside. in receiving many callers at one time, a well-bred lady must divide her attentions as equally as possible. a _tete-a-tete_ conversation is a gross breach of etiquette, and no one may receive any especial notice excepting any elderly person. if, during a call any _contretemps_ occur, shorten your visit. your hostess may preserve a smiling serenity while a voice in the distance proclaims that, "johnnie has fallen down the stairs," or "mary has set the nursery curtains on fire," but you may be certain she will not resent your departure, even if you have not been two minutes seated. if you find yourself intruding upon an early dinner hour, do not prolong your stay. a call may be made upon a friend to whom some good fortune has come, as promotion in service or other happy event, even if he has not returned the last of your visits. it is a breach of etiquette, during a call, to draw near to the fire to warm your hands and feet, unless you are invited by the mistress of the house to do so. if you are alone in the drawing- room for a time, while your visit is announced, and then go to the fire, leave your seat and advance to meet the mistress of the house as she enters, and then take the seat she points out to you. in visiting an invalid, never offer to go to the room, but wait for a invitation to do so. a gentleman who is a confirmed invalid, may receive the visits of a lady friend, but under no other circumstances. calls made either in person or by card, during an illness of your own, must be returned as soon as you are able to go abroad again. it is a breach of etiquette to remove the gloves when making a formal call. it is a breach of etiquette to stare round a room when you are making a call. in paying visits of condolence, let your dress be subdued. it is offensive to put on your gayest attire to call upon a friend in affliction, and equally so to converse upon such subjects as balls, opera or similar amusements. let the mourner decide whether to speak of the recent sorrow or not. a lady who allows remarks to be made upon a caller, who has just left the room, commits not only a breach of etiquette, but a positive rudeness and ill-natured act. it is quite easy to check any such disposition by a grave reserve, and to turn the conversation at once. calls in the country may be less ceremonious, and of longer duration than those in the city. it is an ostentation almost unkind for a lady to call upon a friend in reduced circumstances, with any parade of her own wealth in equipage or dress. no mistress of the house may ever leave the room when there are visitors in it. it is a breach of etiquette for a caller, who is waiting the entrance of the hostess, to open the piano, or to touch it if it is open. it is a breach of etiquette to walk round the room when waiting for your hostess, examining the furniture or pictures. it is a breach of etiquette for a caller to open or shut a door, raise or lower a window curtain, or in any way alter the arrangement of a room. many consider a clock on a drawing-room mantel a breach of etiquette, as it seems to hint to visitors to keep early hours. it is a breach of etiquette to turn your chair so as to bring your back to any one seated near to you. it is a breach of etiquette when making a call, to play with any ornament in the room, finger the furniture or seem indeed to be aware of anything but the company present. to prolong a call to the next meal time is a positive rudeness, as it forces your hostess to invite you to the table whether convenient and agreeable or not. in calling upon friends at a boardinghouse or a hotel, always write their names above your own upon your card, that it may be certain to be delivered to the right person. conversation. there are several principal rules of etiquette which must be rigidly observed in conversation, the non-observance of which will at once stamp the guilty party as ignorant of the forms and customs of polite society. ungrammatical expressions are unfortunately too common even amongst those who have not the excuse of ignorance, but who fall into the use of them merely from carelessness, or unconscious imitation of others. "says she to me," and other vulgarisms of a like type, are also a gross violation of good taste in conversation. the personal pronouns should be used as little as possible when speaking of any one, either present or absent. the name of the lady or gentleman to whom reference is made should be repeated if necessary, but under no circumstances should the words "she" or "he," accompanied by a nod or jerk of the thumb, in the direction of the person spoken of, be employed. never talk of any one with whom you may have held intercourse as "that party," or "a party" of your acquaintance. avoid as utterly hateful the use of slang terms. there are surely words enough in the english language to express all the thoughts and ideas of the mind, and it is a sign of pure vulgarity to employ synonyms, the only remarkable part of which is that they derive their existence solely from vulgar sources. in a gentleman such expressions are too suggestive of low company, and intercourse with the worst associates, and in a lady such expressions are too offensive to be tolerated at all in good society. slang never ornamented conversation, but it invariably sullies and degrades it. equally to be censured as a violation of etiquette, and more so in a moral point of view, is the use of profanity; it is a sure mark, not only of low-breeding, but of a narrow, degraded if not a positively vicious mind. lamont says: "whatever fortune may be made by perjury, i believe there never was a man who made a fortune by common swearing. it often appears that men pay for swearing, but it seldom happens that they are paid for it. it is not easy to perceive what honor or credit is connected with it. does any man receive promotion because he is a notable blusterer? or is any man advanced to dignity because he is expert at profane swearing? never. low must be the character which such impertinence will exalt: high must be the character which such impertinence will not degrade. inexcusable, therefore, must be the practice which has neither reason nor passion to support it. the drunkard has his cups; the satirist his revenge; the ambitious man his preferments; the miser his gold; but the common swearer has nothing; he is a fool at large, sells his soul for naught, and drudges in the service of the devil gratis. swearing is void of all plea, it is not the native offspring of the soul, nor interwoven with the texture of the body, nor any how allied to our frame. for, as tillotson expresses it,'though some men pour out oaths as if they were natural, yet no man was ever born of a swearing constitution.' but it is a custom, a low and paltry custom, picked up by low and paltry spirits who have no sense of honor, no regard to decency, but are forced to substitute some rhapsody of nonsense to supply the vacancy of good sense. hence the silliness of the practice can only be equalled by the silliness of those who adopt it." it is exceedingly rude, nothing in fact can be more so, to talk to any one person in the presence of others, in a language not understood save by the two persons using it--unless you are addressing a foreigner in his own tongue, and then others should be made aware of the subject discussed. nothing can be in worse taste than to speak in an unknown tongue, to laugh and joke in a language which leaves the rest of the company in ignorance whether they themselves may not be the subjects of your remarks or mirth. never hold your companion, in a conversation, by the buttonhole. if you are obliged to detain him forcibly in order to say what you wish, you are pressing upon him what is disagreeable or unwelcome, and you commit a gross breach of etiquette in so doing. to speak to one person in a company in ambiguous terms, understood by him alone, as "g---, i saw mr. h., to-day, and delivered your message," is as rude as if you went up to g--- and whispered in his ear. do not interlard your conversation with scraps of foreign language. it is an affectation of knowledge in one direction, and a sort of tacit admission of ignorance in another; for it would seem to show that the speaker was not well enough acquainted with his own language to be able to express by its aid that which could really be told as well, perhaps better, by it than any other. there are certain expressions, chiefly french, which have become domesticated in the english language, and which may occasionally be employed, but only when they come in very aptly; the constant or extended use of them is intolerable in good society. quotations are to be avoided as much as possible. when made, they should be exceedingly short. there can scarcely be a greater annoyance to a company than for one person to take up all the time and attention by reciting a poem, a speech, a passage from a book, especially if it be the speaker's own book, speech or poem. of course, if the company meet especially for mutual enjoyment in elocution or recitation, this rule does not apply. it is applicable only for general society. short, pungent, epigrammatic quotations, if suitable to the subject of conversation, may be occasionally introduced, but their use should be the exception, not the rule. dr. johnson says that in order to converse well, "there must, in the first place, be knowledge--there must be materials; in the second place, there must be a command of words; in the third place, there must be imagination to place things in such views as they are not commonly seen in; and in the fourth place, there must be a presence of mind, and a resolution that is not to be overcome by failure--this last is an essential requisite; for want of it many people do not excel in conversation." to be known as an inveterate teller of stories, is a great injury to a man in society. a short, brilliant anecdote, that is especially applicable to the conversation, known to be new and never printed, is all that a well-bred man will ever permit himself to inflict. remarks having, and intended to have, a double meaning--even puns --are utterly to be deprecated. it is a great liberty to appeal to the private sympathies of any one, by which i mean, to those qualities or perceptions which are, as it were, a man's private property, available for the use of his intimate friends, but not for the general public. it seems almost needless to say that under no circumstances whatever are any coarse allusions permissible. trite remarks are simply drags upon conversation, and may produce awkward effects. it is told of charles lamb, that he was one day at dinner at a friend's house, where amongst a number of literary men was a solitary individual who had been invited for no apparent reason. the poor man thought that, being in such company, it behoved him to talk of some one or something literary. in an evil moment he said, without being conscious of the triteness of his remark: "do you not think, sir, that milton was a great genius?" charles lamb gazed at him curiously, rose, went to the sideboard and lighted a candle, with which he advanced, in solemn wise, to where the trite talker sat, and said as one who is about to look at some unusual object of interest-holding his candle near the poor man's head the while: "will you allow me to examine this gentleman's pericranium?" lamb was undoubtedly rude, but the other gave him enormous provocation. political and religious topics are not in good taste in general conversation. it is almost impossible to avoid strong personal feeling when a difference of opinion arises, and such discussions almost invariably lead to more warmth of expression and violence of argument than are compatible with the requirements of polite conversation. to listen with interest and attention is as important in polite society as to converse well, and it is in the character of listener that the elegant refinement of a man accustomed to society will soonest prove itself. no matters how "flat, stale and unprofitable," the remarks of another may be, the well-bred man will listen with an appearance at least of interest, replying in such a manner as to show that he entirely "follows the thread of the discourse." avoid as much as possible all egotism; in conversation stick closely to cardinal wolsey's direction to "love thyself last." it is, to say the least of it, unseemly for a man to be constantly making himself the subject of conversation. at times it lays a man open to the attacks which his style certainly invites--as was the case with the egotist who dared to talk much of himself in the presence of dr. johnson, whom he had greatly irritated by his conceited talk. the doctor availed himself of an opportunity to crush him. "oh, indeed, i did not know that!" exclaimed the man, upon some intelligent remark made by one of the company, whereupon the doctor broke in with: "sir, what you do not know would fill a very large library." there used to be a joke against lord, erskine, who was notably a talker of himself, that the printer, having to print a speech which his lordship had delivered, sent word to say that "he was very sorry, but he had no more 'i's' in his founts than would suffice to set up half the speech." the subject of conversation and the method of handling it should be so ordered as not to offend either directly or indirectly. suitable subjects, for time and place, form an important consideration in polite conversation. grave tones and important consideration are not suited for the chit-chat of a brief call or a social evening, nor is small talk an appropriate introduction, when the meetings are for the purpose of discussing serious matters. let gayety or gravity rule as place and occasion demand. gesticulations are in excessively bad taste. if you do not wish to attract censorious remark, converse quietly and without gesture. declamation is not conversation. refrain from the use of satire, even if you are master of the art. it is permissible only as a guard against impertinence, or for the purpose of checking personalities, or troublesome intrusions. under no circumstances whatever should it be used merely for amusement's sake, to produce an effect, or in order to show off one's own wit. it must never be employed by a gentleman against a lady, though ladies are prone to indulge in the use of this wordy weapon. their acknowledged position should, in the eyes of a true gentleman, shield them from all shafts of satire. if they, on the other hand, choose to indulge in satire, it is the part of a gentleman to remonstrate gently, and if the invective be continued, to withdraw. there was a case in point during the austro-prussian war. the grand duchess of ---, being visited by a prussian general on business, took occasion to pour forth upon him the unmeasured violence of her temper, which had naturally enough been disturbed by the success that had attended the prussian arms, and had been at the same time so injurious to her husband's interests. the prussian general remonstrated, at first mildly; the invective still flowed, when the general said he would not have believed that a prussian officer could have been called upon to endure such abuse from the lips of a high-born lady. still the grand duchess continuing to ignore the object of the general's visit, and continuing also to pour forth the bitterness of her spirit upon him, the soldier withdrew, not returning railing for railing, but simply declaring that the language used towards him was absolutely intolerable. do not attempt to speak with the mouth full. do not, however much you may be pleased with any remark, cry out "bravo!" clap your hands, or permit any gesture, silent or otherwise, to mark your appreciation of it. a quiet expression of pleasure, or the smiling lip will show quite as plainly your sense of the wit, or fitness of the remark. if you are flattered, repel it by quiet gravity. you cannot accept it without also accepting the contempt of the person who offers it. refrain, too, from expressions of flattery to others; you will surely offend any hearer who has delicacy of feeling and refinement. if an error in language, either in pronunciation or grammar, escapes those with whom you are conversing, never show that you notice it. to take occasion to repeat correctly the same word or phrase, is ill-bred in the extreme, and as much so to correct it when spoken. in addressing any one and in general conversation, it will be well to bear in mind the advice of polonius to his son laertes: "be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar;" but unless you have special reason, do not too closely adhere to his precept, "give every man thine ear, but not thy tongue." this will only serve to make you appear reserved and reticent, when to be so would be not only out of place, but ill-bred. in society, a man should make himself as agreeable as he can, doing his best to assist conversation, as well by talking gracefully and easily, as by listening patiently, even though it be to a twice-told tale. do not whistle, loll about, scratch your head, or fidget with any portion of your dress while speaking. 'tis excessively awkward, and indicative of low-breeding. strictly avoid anything approaching to absence of mind. there can be nothing more offensive than a pre-occupied vacant expression, an evident abstraction of self at the very time you are supposed to be listening attentively to all that is being said to you. lord chesterfield said: "when i see a man absent in mind. i choose to be absent in body." and there was really much reason in the remark. whispering is atrocious, and cannot be tolerated. it is almost as bad to endeavor to draw one person from a general conversation into a _tete-a-tete_ discussion. private affairs must be delayed for private interviews. if, however, you find others have been guilty of this breach of etiquette, and you are so placed as to overhear what is intended to be a secret communication, you may with perfect propriety change your seat, or if this is not practicable, inform the persons so conversing, that their voices are audible to you. unless you are actually afflicted with deafness, never ask to have a sentence repeated. it implies a wandering attention. if your hearing is defective, say so, and your companion will raise his voice. never interrupt a speaker. it is equally rude to supply words over which your companion may hesitate a moment. do not be guilty of a rough comment on what has been said, by such remarks as, "yes, you mean so-and-so." if you understand such to be the meaning of a remark, act or answer accordingly; if you are uncertain, try to find out in some way that will not wound the feelings of the speaker. in general conversation avoid argument. it is too engrossing of attention, and is moreover apt to break in upon the harmony of the company. if obliged to discuss a point, do so with suavity, contradicting, if necessary, with extreme courtesy, and if you see no prospect of agreement, finishing off with some happy good- natured remark to prove that you are not hurt or offended. when addressing a person, look in his or her face, not staringly, but frankly, never fixing your eyes on the carpet or your boots. speak clearly and distinctly, never mumbling your words, and while avoiding a shouting tone, speak loudly enough to ensure your remarks being heard. a very low tone of voice will be heard if the words are clearly articulated and spoken slowly enough for perfect distinctness, and is much more agreeable than hurried, garbled speech loudly uttered. do not sit too close to your companion in conversation, and avoid any appearance of wishing secrecy. loud laughing and giggling are in excessively bad taste. do not interrupt yourself by laughing at what you are about to say. eschew scandal, for "in scandal as in robbery, the receiver is always thought as bad as the thief." mimicry is the lowest and most ill-bred of all buffoonery. swearing, sneering, private affairs either of yourself or any other, have long ago been banished out of the conversation of well-mannered people. never suppose, or never appear to suppose yourself the subject of the conversation or laugh of the company. bashfulness is an inconvenient quality, which a great authority has stated to be "the distinguishing character of a booby." nicknames are abominable, and are never allowed in good society. call people and things by their right names, and avoid affectations of all kinds. if your friends become the subject of conversation, never compare one with another, or mention the vices of one to add to the lustre of virtue of the other. find something pleasant to say of each, that you may not earn the reputation of a backbiter. in conversing with a foreigner, betray no impatience if he hesitates for a word to express himself, nor any ridicule if his language is faulty. if you speak his own tongue, say so when you begin the conversation, as this is never a mere display of an accomplishment, but a true kindness to "a stranger in a strange land." you are almost certain to give pleasure by so doing. to speak constantly of public characters or distinguished people as your intimate friends, even if they are so, is a certain mark of low-breeding. boasting of your own position, wealth, luxuries or possessions of any kind is in equally bad taste. never speak to a literary person of his works. you may by an apt quotation or pleasant remark show that you are familiar with them, but to question an author about his profession is ill bred. it is equally so to speak of business matters to any man in general society. business men do not go into the world of polite society to carry their shop, and they will not thank you for reminding them of work in their hours of relaxation. do not commence any conversation by the suggestion of painful or disagreeable topics. to ask a friend abruptly, "for whom are you in mourning?" may be tearing open anew a wound that was covered for the time by intercourse with society. take other steps to satisfy yourself on this point. by the same token, do not say to a man, "that was an unfortunate affair, that failure of yours." never, directly or indirectly, rub a sore. do not ask questions which relate to the private affairs of the person spoken to, and be guarded against conduct which may look like an attempt to force confidence. if too persevering in your inquiries you may be treated, and very properly, as one might treat a highwayman who sought to rob one of any other property. a man's thoughts are certainly his own most private possession, and you must be very intimate to seek to be admitted to a share in them. even if you are so, it is far more delicate to wait until confidence is offered to you. a man has a perfect right to defend himself from cross-examination by any means, except positive falsehood. in conversing with foreigners do not disparage any of their national customs, even if they are rude enough to attack yours. you may, pleasantly and frankly, defend the institutions of your native land, but not by comparison with the customs of other countries. if your companion is well-bred, he will admit that you possibly understand american customs better than a foreigner can do; if he is a low-bred man, no rudeness on your part will correct his manners or views. subjects or incidents calculated to disgust the hearers, are to be avoided in polite conversation. there is a positive fascination to some people in describing sickening or revolting scenes, but well- bred people will remember that some are sensitive upon such subjects, and all would prefer more agreeable topics. do not use surnames alone, even if speaking of intimate friends. for a lady to speak of her husband as "smith" or "jones," is vulgar in the extreme, and it is low-bred also to say "my husband," "my wife" or, except amongst relatives, to use the christian name only, in speaking of husband or wife. speak of your own husband or wife as, "mr." or "mrs. b---," and of your friends also by the surname prefix as, "remember me to mr. or mrs. d." let no more than one person be speaking at one time. ridicule and personal joking cannot be too severely censured. avoid an officious offer of advice or your own opinion, and if you do give an opinion, be sure it is given as such and not as a fact. if you would preserve a character for truthfulness, avoid the too common fault of exaggeration. when visiting, be careful that you do not appear to undervalue anything around you by comparing it with what you have at home. beware of personal abuse or invective. remember what shakespeare put into the month of cardinal wolsey, when the earl of surrey said to him on his disgrace: "now if you can blush and cry 'guilty' cardinal, you'll show a little honesty." mark the proud dignity of the prelate's reply: "speak on, sir; i dare your worst objections: if i blush it is to see a nobleman want manners." punning is a vulgarism that should be scrupulously avoided. an inveterate punster, though his play upon words may rise to the keenest wit, is yet an insufferable bore. no one feels secure in his society, or can guess what word may be torn out of a serious or brilliant remark to be tortured into a vulgar witticism, out of place and uncalled for. proverbs are not in good taste when introduced into conversation. scriptural phrases are apt to subject the speaker to a suspicion of insincerity, and should be used very seldom, and with the utmost reverence. cant is simply detestable. religion is a subject too apt to lead to long arguments if not to positive altercation to be the subject of general conversation. repartee is not a weapon for every-day use. there are few who can wield this polished blade skillfully, and when clumsy hands grasp it, it will wound both speaker and hearer. the talented author of "good society," says: "the great secret of talking well is to adapt your conversation as skillfully as may be to your company. some men make a point of talking commonplace to all ladies alike, as if a woman could only be a trifler. others, on the contrary, seem to forget in what respects the education of a lady differs from that of a gentleman, and commit the opposite error of conversing on topics with which ladies are seldom acquainted. a woman of sense has as much right to be annoyed by the one, as a lady of ordinary education by the other. you cannot pay a finer compliment to a woman of refinement and _esprit_, than by leading the conversation into such a channel as may mark your appreciation of her superior attainments. "it should be remembered that people take more interest in their own affairs than in anything else which you can name. in _tete-a- tete_ conversations, therefore, lead a mother to talk of her children, a young lady of her last ball, an author of his forthcoming book, or an artist of his exhibition picture. having furnished the topic, you need only listen; and you are thought not only agreeable, but thoroughly sensible, amiable and well- informed. "be careful, on the other hand, not always to make a point of talking to persons upon general matters relating to their professions. to show an interest in their immediate concerns is flattering, but to converse with them too much about their own art or profession, looks as if you thought them ignorant of other topics. "remember in conversation that a voice 'gentle and low' is, above all other extraneous accomplishments, an excellent thing in woman. there is a certain distinct but subdued tone of voice which is peculiar to persons only of the best breeding. it is better to err by the use of too low than too loud a tone. loud laughter is extremely objectionable in society. "conversation is a reflex of character. the pretentious, the illiterate, the impatient, the curious, will as inevitably betray their idiosyncrasies as the modest, the even tempered and the generous. strive as we may, we cannot always be acting. let us, therefore, cultivate a tone of mind, and a habit of life, the betrayal of which need not put us to shame in the company of the pure and wise, and the rest will be easy. if we make ourselves worthy of refined and intelligent society, we shall not be rejected from it; and in such society we shall acquire by example all that we have failed to learn from precept." if you are conversing, when interrupted by a visitor, and, after the customary greetings, resume the conversation, you must recapitulate the substance of it for the benefit of the new comer. to invariably commence a conversation by remarks on the weather shows a poverty of ideas that is truly pitiable. do not constantly repeat the name of a person with whom you are conversing. a person who has travelled will probably be severely ridiculed if constantly referring to "the winter i spent in florence," or "when i was in london." if conversation takes a tone that is offensive to good taste, charity or justice, be silent. do not be too ready to correct any statement you may deem untrue. you may be yourself mistaken. invitations. all invitations, excepting dinner invitations, are issued in the name of the lady of the house alone. dinner invitations are issued in the name of the gentleman and lady of the house, or when extended to gentlemen only, in the name of the host alone. answers to invitations, excepting such dinner invitations as are issued in the name of the gentleman only, must be addressed to the lady of the house. when invitations are issued in the height of a fashionable season, it is best to send them out at least a fortnight beforehand. for a small company, and when gayety is not at its height, a week's notice is sufficient. for a costume ball, private theatricals or any occasion when elaborate dresses or preparations are needed, a month should be given. printed cards of invitation are not _en regle_, excepting for public occasions. a small note paper is the only appropriate one, and may have the initial letter or monogram stamped upon it, and the envelope. any more fanciful decoration is in excessively bad taste. the proper form for a dinner invitation is: "mr. and mrs. g--- request the favor of mr. and mrs. l---'s company at dinner, on tuesday, the th of january, at o'clock." or, "mr. g--- requests the pleasure of mr. l ---'s company at dinner, on tuesday, the th of january, at o'clock." the answer accepting the invitation should run as follows: "mr. and mrs. l--- have much pleasure in accepting mr. and mrs. g- --'s kind invitation to dinner on the th of january." if declined, the following form must be used: "mr. and mrs. l--- regret that a prior engagement (or other reason stated) will prevent their accepting mr. and mrs. g---'s kind invitation to dinner on the th of january." should the invitation be declined, some reason for the refusal must be given, and, unless an excuse (which always savors more or less of the untruthful) be wanted, it is the truest politeness to assign the cause which actually is the preventive. whatever the cause--sickness, domestic trouble, business or any other--it should be stated as concisely as possible in the answer, which in any case should be dispatched as soon as possible (certainly the next day) after the receipt of the invitation, that the hostess may have time to summon other guests in the stead of those declining her first invitations. after an invitation is once accepted, it should be scrupulously observed. nothing but the most absolute necessity should prevent you from going, and when such necessity arises, it should be communicated directly, with a full explanation of the preventing cause even if it is within half an hour of the appointed dinner time. if earlier, send the explanation as soon as possible. invitations to dinner and the answers must be sent by a special messenger. the post is proverbially uncertain, and the non-arrival of an expected invitation or its answer, may cause lasting offence. it is a breach of etiquette, to say nothing of practical inconvenience, to bring an unassorted company together at dinner. great people, public characters, literary celebrities or distinguished guests from any cause should not be invited merely because they are such. they will be uncomfortable if the guests summoned to meet them are not congenial, and the remainder of your company equally so. no one guest should be too conspicuous. a harmonious blending of tastes and qualities should be the object in view. persons moving in one circle of society should not, as a general rule, be invited to meet those who move in another circle. a man of strong political bias in one direction, should not be invited to meet a party opposed to his views; persons of known and marked differences in religious matters should not be invited to meet each other, and above all, avoid the social collision of those whom you know to be personal enemies. the best guide in such matters is common sense, coupled with a little judicious forethought. invitations to large balls should be sent out at least a fortnight before the time appointed, and are worded thus: "mrs. l---'s compliments to miss g---, and requests the pleasure of her company at a ball, on wednesday, the th of march, at o'clock." the answer is as follows: "miss g---'s compliments to mrs. l---, and accepts with pleasure her kind invitation for wednesday, march th." or, "miss g--- regrets a recent death in her family will prevent her accepting mrs. l---'s kind invitation for march th." an invitation to an evening party is worded: "mrs. s--- compliments to mr. and mrs. t---, and requests the pleasure of their company on march th, at o'clock." such an invitation calls for full evening dress. the answer is the same as for a ball invitation. invitations to pic-nics, private theatricals, concerts, tea parties and other entertainments, generally state the nature of such entertainment, and are a little less formal than those already given. for a musical party: "mrs. r-- requests the pleasure of mr. and mrs. p---'s company, on thursday evening, feb. th, at o'clock, to meet the members of the harmonia musical society." and if you have a programme of the concert, enclose it. or, "mrs. f--- expects a few friends on monday evening next, at o'clock, to take part in some dramatic readings, and would be happy to have miss b--- join the party." or, "mrs. s---'s compliments to miss p---, and would be pleased to have her join a pic-nic party to pine grove, on wednesday, june th. carriages start from mrs. s---'s at o'clock, and a place will be reserved for miss p---." notes of invitation must always be dated, and your address in full written in one corner, thus: "feb. th, --. "miss m---. requests the pleasure of miss n---'s company to a small evening party, on friday evening next, at o'clock. "no. r--- street." the body of the invitation must be in the middle of the sheet, and date a little above to the right, the address a little below to the left. the envelopes containing invitations must be directed always to the private residence of the person invited, never to a place of business or office. when the officers of a regiment or a ship are invited to an entertainment, and it is not possible to invite them all, it is customary to send an invitation to the colonel or commander, accompanied by a certain number of blank tickets, if it be a public ball, or by an intimation that the host would be glad to see colonel or captain --- and so many of the officers of the regiment or ship. invitations by a regiment to a ball, to be given by the officers, are worded as follows: "col. and the officers of the --- regiment, u. s. a. (or other branch of the service), request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. c--- 's company on the th of december, at o'clock. "r--- barracks, corner of --- and --- streets." answers should be addressed to the colonel of the regiment, and worded thus: "mr. and mrs. c's compliments to colonel -- and the officers of the - regiment, u. s. a., and accept with pleasure their polite invitation for the th of december." in case an officer desires to invite his personal friends, he encloses his own card in the invitation, but these must all be issued in the form already given, the card explaining to which officer the compliment is to be attributed. invitations to a naval ball are issued in the name of the "captain and officers of the u. s. ship ---," or simply in the name of "the officers of the u. s. ship ---." on the corner of the card the name of the officer to whom the answers are to be sent, should be written. an officer of higher rank, or a public official of high position, will signify on his card what aide-de-camp or clerk is to receive the answers to his invitations, and will issue them in the joint name of himself and wife, thus: "general and mrs. e--- request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. d---'s company, on thursday, the th of november, at o'clock. "direct answers to capt. e. c---." verbal invitations are given only when the occasion is a very informal one, and imply plain dress, early hours and a small company. invitations to concerts, theatre or opera, should be sent in time to secure good seats, if accepted, the usual style is: "mr. g would be much pleased to have mrs. and miss hunt's company at the opera, on wednesday evening, when la trovatore will be performed by the italian troupe at the academy of music." such an invitation calls for an immediate answer from the elder lady, and should be as follows: "mrs. and miss hunt accept with pleasure mr. g---'s polite invitation to listen to a favorite opera on wednesday evening." or if declined: "mrs. hunt regrets that a prior engagement will prevent her own and miss hunt's acceptance of mr. g---'s polite invitation for wednesday evening." for a general reception, invitations are printed upon cards, thus: "wednesday evening, january th, no. --- street." such cards do not require any answer. dinner company. on no occasion is a want of punctuality more ill-bred than at a dinner party, whether it is the guests who are late, or the hostess who allows dinner to be later than the time appointed. belie remarks, with as much truth as sarcasm: "i have always been punctual to the hour of dinner, for i know that those whom i kept waiting would employ those unpleasant moments to sum up all my faults." to arrive too early is to annoy the lady of the house by disturbing her at her toilet. to arrive too late is injurious to the dinner, to the temper of your host, of the other guests and of the servants. it is really a sad breach of etiquette to be later than the hour named in your invitation for dinner, and from ten to fifteen minutes before it is quite soon enough for your arrival. as regards the hour for dinner, etiquette, strictly so called, has not prescribed anything. custom, the fashion, convenience, a score of things may control it. from five to eight o'clock, according somewhat to the season of the year, is the present fashionable limit. by that time the business of most men is over for the day, which can scarcely be said of an hour earlier than five. the lady of the house should be in her drawing-room, ready to receive her guests, ten or fifteen minutes before the hour fixed for their arrival, and the daughters of the house should be with her, and not drop in one by one after the guests' arrival. the gentleman of the house should also be present, and in case it is a strictly gentleman's party, at which no hostess presides, he must be all ready before the appointed time to do the honors. on guests being announced, the lady advances a few steps towards them, and should receive them cordially with some words of welcome. the hostess must never betray any chagrin at the lateness of a guest, but try to place the unfortunate last arrival as much at ease as possible by her cordial welcome and unembarrassed manner. before all the guests have arrived the lady should have made her arrangements as to what gentleman and lady are to go in to dinner together, and before dinner is announced the gentlemen of the party should be informed what lady they are to escort to the table. the gentleman of the house offers his arm to the lady most honored amongst the guests, the gentleman most distinguished offers his arm to the lady of the house. gentlemen give the left arm to a lady, excepting military officers in full dress, who give the right arm, as the sword is inconveniently worn for offering the left. in all other cases the right arm must be left free. the order of procession being settled, the company move according to it from the drawing-room to the dining-room, as soon as dinner is announced. the host sits at the bottom of the table, the hostess at the top. at the right of the host is placed the lady he escorted from the drawing-room, and at the right of the hostess her escort. the next place of honor is at the left of the hostess. it is a good plan, and rapidly becoming an established custom, to have small cards with the names of the guests written upon them, laid upon the plate at each seat. each one thus taking the place assigned prevents confusion, and gives the hostess the privilege of placing near to each other the guests who will prove mutually agreeable. gentlemen should stand behind their respective chairs until all the ladies are seated, and then take their own seats, being careful that their chairs do not stand upon the dresses of the ladies beside them. seats having been apportioned to all, grace is said, by a clergyman if there is one present, if not, by the host. the clergyman should be invited to say grace by the host. if the dinner is _a la russe_, there will not be any carving done on the table itself. if the party is small, mere _en famille_, the hostess will have a dish before her, the contents of which will have to be carved. the gentleman on her right hand should in that case offer to carve for her, but if she declines, should not press the offer. many ladies are excellent carvers, and like to appear so. there is no space in our little volume for directions upon carving, nor do they form any portion of the art of etiquette. all that etiquette has to say on the subject is that you must not stand up to carve; you must not pursue the bird, joint or whatever the meat may be, all round the dish; nor should you comment upon the age of the fowl, the toughness of the meat or your own awkwardness in carving. if you really do not understand it, do not attempt it; say so and let the waiter cut it up. never be helped twice to soup or fish, and indeed it appears low bred to be twice served to any one dish. you may refuse either soup or fish, but make no comment if you do, as to your liking or dislike for the dish, nor is it incumbent upon you to state that "soup does not agree with you," or that "fish always make you ill;" any such remarks are rude. simply to say "no, thank you," in refusing a dish, is all the reply that strict etiquette will allow upon the subject. no remarks should be made by the host or hostess on the refusal of a guest to partake of a proffered dish. pressing the food upon a guest with "oh, do take some," or "you must, it was made by so- and-so," or indeed any remark upon the repast, is not only annoying to the guest, but a proof of low-breeding in the entertainers. there is a sort of hospitality about it, but it is a rough barbarism. who does not remember the description of bridget elias' hospitable _gaucherie_ in charles lamb's "poor relation," when urging the poor relation to eat with the speech: "do take some more; remember you do not get pudding every day." never should a host or hostess apologize for the fare set before their guest. such apologies are generally a mere fishing for compliment, untrue and in entirely bad taste. in inviting his friends to dinner, the host binds himself to set before them the best his house and purse can afford, and if the fare is good the guest will soon find it out, if bad, no apologies will make it any better. it is in bad taste to apologize to the waiters for the trouble given them, and betrays a lamentable ignorance of the customs of society. they are hired to wait upon the guests, and it is no affair of those guests how they feel, as long as they discharge their duty. to reprove a waiter is the height of ill-breeding. do not, when a dish is brought to you, say you prefer to be helped after some one else. accept or refuse what is offered to you, and let the waiter pass the dish on. a gentleman, however, will see that the lady he has escorted to the table is helped as she wishes, before he attends to his own dinner, but to interfere with the lady on the other side of him is all insult to her escort. he may ask the lady under his care if she will be helped from any dish offered him, before he accepts or declines for himself, and will issue her orders for her to the waiter when she selects her dinner. a gentleman or a lady will always say "thank you" to a waiter, but nothing more. a guest must never find fault with any dish placed before him, and to appear to question the quality or freshness of the viands by smelling or fastidiously tasting them, is a positive insult to the gentleman who has invited him to his table. a host or hostess may never find fault before their guests, neither with the dinner, with the servants, nor with each other. burnt soup, fish boiled to rags, underdone vegetables, heavy pastry, must be endured with smiling equanimity. no scowl must greet the crash that announces the fall of a tray of the finest glass, no word of remonstrance greet the deluge of a plate of soup over the tablecloth. if care has not been taken to secure first- rate cooks and well-trained waiters, the faults of omission and commission must be endured with placid serenity. after the ladies have all been served, the guests to the right of the hostess must be attended to, then the guest on her left, and so on until all are served. ten persons are all that one cook can properly prepare a dinner for, and three waiters will be amply employed in waiting upon that number. if more are invited the attempt to make the conversation general had better not be made, but the guests allowed to converse _tete-a-tete_. wine should be handed by the waiters after soup. to decline wine by covering the mouth of the wine-glass with the hand is an ill- bred gesture. say simply "not any, thank you," and the waiter will not fill your glass. fish follows next in order. a slice, neatly _cut_, not hashed up by bad carving, should be placed upon each plate, with a slice of egg, and fish sauce. if there be a silver knife, use it to cut the fish. if not, take your fork in your right hand and supply the place of the knife by a small piece of bread, which you should cut off, and when your fish is eaten, leave upon your plate. do not eat as if you had good fare for the first time in your life--that is to say, do not eat ravenously, and do not eat in a noticeable way. never smack the lips when eating. never take a long, deep breath after you finish eating, as if the exercise had fatigued you. never make noises in your mouth or throat. never suck your teeth, or pass your tongue round the outside of your gums. never, even with cheese, put your knife into your mouth. never pick your teeth, or put your finger into your mouth. if you find you have a fish-bone in your mouth, cover your lips with a napkin to remove it. it is better to be very careful to remove all bones before putting fish into your mouth. on no account spit the bones out upon your plate. never take the bones of fowl or birds up in your fingers to gnaw or suck them. remove the meat with your knife, and convey it to your mouth with your fork, never being too eager to clean off every particle of flesh. wipe your finger tips, if soiled, upon the table napkin, never upon your tongue or the table-cloth. an elegant eater will never have occasion to think of his fingers. never use the table-cloth to wipe your mouth, you might as well use it in place of your pocket handkerchief. never remark upon what is placed before you, either in praise or dispraise of it. neither drink nor speak when you have anything in your mouth. when you are helped, begin to eat, without regard to those who have already, or have not yet, been helped. never watch the dishes as they are uncovered, nor make any exclamation when you see their contents. under no circumstances tuck your napkin, bib-fashion, into your shirt collar. unfold it partially and put it in your lap, covering your knees. a lady may slip a corner under her belt if there is danger of its slipping upon her dress, but a gentleman must be awkward indeed if he lets his napkin fall upon the floor. no gentleman will ever settle himself in his chair, pushing back his cuffs, as if for a "set-to," at the table. if you make any general remark, do not look up at the waiters to see what effect it has upon them. if they are well-trained they will not move a muscle at hearing the most laughable story, nor will they give any sign whatever that they have not closed their ears like deaf adders to all that has been going on. in any case, however, you must refrain from noticing them. if you want anything, take the occasion of a waiter being near to you, to ask for it in an undertone. to shout out "waiter!" or order one about, as if you were in a restaurant, is a certain mark of ill-breeding. unless the party is a very small one, general conversation is impossible. in such a case, you must converse with those on either side of you, not confining your remarks exclusively to one. talk in a low, quiet tone, but never in a whisper. to affect an air of mystery or secrecy at a dinner-table, is an insult to your companion and company assembled. it is in bad taste to force the attention of the company upon yourself by loud talking or loud laughing. too many jokes or anecdotes are in bad taste, but the subjects for conversation should not be too serious. any gentleman propounding a conundrum at the dinner-table deserves to be taken away by the police. to use one's own knife, spoon or fingers, instead of the butterknife, sugar-tongs or salt-spoons, is to persuade the company that you have never seen the latter articles before, and are unacquainted with their use. never eat all that is on your plate, and above all never be guilty of the _gaucherie_ of scraping your plate, or passing your bread over it as if to clean it. never fill your mouth so full that you cannot converse; at the same time avoid the appearance of merely playing with your food. eat in small mouthfuls, and rather slowly than rapidly. if upon opening fruit you find it is not perfect, or there is a worm in it, pass your plate quietly and without remark to the waiter, who will bring you a clean one. none but a low-bred clown will ever carry fruit or _bon bons_ away from the table. drinking wine with people is an old custom, but it will now-adays be found to exist only among the past or passing generation. if you are, however, asked to take wine with any one, you should fill your glass with the same sort of wine your friend has, and raise it to your lips. you need only taste, not act upon the principle of "no heel-taps." a man would be looked upon as a curiosity, nay, many would not understand what he meant, who should at the present day propose a "sentiment" before drinking wine. never spit from your mouth the skins of grapes, the stones or pips of fruits. receive them upon the prongs of your fork, laid horizontally, and place them as conveniently as so inelegant a process will allow upon the edge of your plate. never play with your fingers upon the table. never play with your knife and fork, fidget with your salt-cellar, balance your spoon on your tumbler, make pills of your bread, or perform any of those vulgar antics unfortunately too often seen at table. never in conversation, illustrate your remarks by plans drawn upon the table-cloth with your nail, or built of your knife, fork and spoon. never stretch your feet out under the table, so as to touch those of your opposite neighbor. it is quite as bad to put them up under you upon the chair-bar, or curl them up under the chair itself. try to take an easy position at table, neither pressing closely up to it, nor yet so far away as to risk depositing your food upon the floor instead of conveying it to your mouth. never touch fruit with your fingers. if you wish to peel an apple, a pear or a peach, hold the fruit on a fork in your left hand, and peel with a silver knife in your right. eat it in small slices cut from the whole fruit, but never bite it, or anything else at table. need i say no fruit should ever be sucked at the table. when the hostess thinks her lady friends have taken as much dessert as they wish, she catches the eye of the principal among them; an interchange of ocular telegraphing takes place, the hostess rises, and with her all the company rise; the gentlemen make a passage for the ladies to pass; the one who is nearest to the door opens it, and holds it open until all the ladies have passed out of the room. as soon as the ladies have retired the gentlemen may resume their seats for more wine and conversation, but it is a very poor compliment to the lady guests to linger long in the dining-room. the ladies upon leaving the dining-room, retire to the drawing- room, and occupy themselves until the gentlemen again join them. it is well for the hostess to have a reserve force for this interval, of photographic albums, stereoscopes, annuals, new music, in fact, all the ammunition she can provide to make this often tedious interval pass pleasantly. if you dine in the french fashion, the gentlemen rise with the ladies, each offering his arm to the lady he escorted to dinner, and all proceed to the drawing-room together. if the gentlemen remain to have coffee served in the dining-room, tea may be served in the drawing-room to the ladies. upon returning to the drawing-room the gentlemen should never cluster round the door, but join the ladies at once, striving to repay the hospitality of the hostess by making themselves as agreeable as possible to the guests. from two to three hours after dinner is the proper time to leave the house. if the dinner is for the gentlemen guests alone, and the lady of house presides, her duties are over when she rises after dessert. the gentlemen do not expect to find her in the drawing-room again. in this case cigars may be served with the coffee, and then the servants may retire, unless especially summoned to wait. if smoking is indulged in, have placed upon the table a number of small match boxes, ashes receivers, and between the chairs spittoons. and here let me add a few words upon smoking taken from an english authority, but which, with a few exceptions will apply equally well to lovers of the weed upon this side of the water. he says: "but what shall i say of the fragrant weed which raleigh taught our gallants to puff in capacious bowls; which a royal pedant denounced in a famous 'counterblast,' which his flattering, laureate, ben jonson, ridiculed to please his master; which our wives and sisters protest gives rise to the dirtiest and most unsociable habit a man can indulge in; of which some fair flowers declare that they love the smell, and others that they will never marry an indulger (which, by the way, they generally end in doing); which has won a fame over more space and among better men than noah's grape has ever done; which doctors still dispute about, and boys get sick over; but which is the solace of the weary laborer; the support of the ill-fed; the refresher of overwrought brains; the soother of angry fancies; the boast of the exquisite; the excuse of the idle; the companion of the philosopher; and the tenth muse of the poet. i will go neither into the the medical nor the moral questions about the dreamy calming cloud. i will content myself so far with saying what may be said for everything that can bless and curse mankind, that in moderation it is at least harmless; but what is moderate and what is not, must be determined in each individual case, according to the habits and constitution of the subjects. if it cures asthma, it may destroy digestion; if it soothes the nerves, it may, in excess, produce a chronic irritability. "but i will regard it in a social point of view, and, first as a narcotic, notice its effects on the individual character. i believe then, that in moderation it diminishes the violence of the passions, and particularly that of the temper. interested in the subject, i have taken care to seek instances of members of the same family having the same violent temper by inheritance, of whom the one has been calmed down by smoking, and the other gone on in his passionate course. i believe that it induces a habit of calm reflectiveness, which causes us to take less prejudiced, perhaps less zealous views of life, and to be therefore less irritable in our converse with our fellow-creatures. i am inclined to think that the clergy, the squirearchy and the peasantry, are the most prejudiced and most violent classes in this country (england); there may be other reasons for this, but it is noteworthy that these are the classes which smoke least. on the other hand, i confess that it induces a certain lassitude, and a lounging, easy mode of life, which is fatal both to the precision of manners and the vivacity of conversation. the mind of a smoker is contemplative rather than active, and if the weed cures our irritability, it kills our wit. i believe that it is a fallacy to suppose that it encourages drinking. there is more drinking and less smoking in england than in any other country of the the civilized world. there was more drinking among the gentry of last century, who never smoked at all. smoke and wine do not go well together. coffee and beer are its best accompaniments; and the one cannot intoxicate, the other must be largely imbibed to do so. i have observed among young bachelors that very little wine is drunk in their chambers, and that beer is gradually taking its place. the cigar, too, is an excuse for rising from the dinner-table, where there are no ladies to go to. "in another point of view, i am inclined to think that smoking has conduced to make the society of men, when alone, less riotous, less quarrelsome and even less vicious than it was. where young men now blow a common cloud, they were formerly driven to a fearful consumption of wine; and this in their heads, they were ready and roused to any iniquity. but the pipe is the bachelors wife. with it, he can endure solitude longer, and is not forced into low society in order to shun it. with it, too, the idle can pass many an hour, which otherwise he would have given, not to work, but to extravagant follies. with it, he is no longer restless, and impatient for excitement of any kind. we never hear now of young blades issuing in bands from their wine to beat the watch or disturb the slumbering citizens, as we did thirty or forty years ago, when smoking was still a rarity; they are all puffing harmlessly in their chambers now. but, on the other hand, i foresee with dread a too tender allegiance to the pipe, to the destruction of good society, and the abandonment of the ladies. no wonder they hate it, dear creatures! the pipe is the worst rival a woman can have, and it is one whose eyes she cannot scratch out; who improves with age, while she herself declines; who has an art which no woman possesses, that of never wearying her devotee; who is silent, yet a companion; costs little, yet gives much pleasure; who, lastly, never upbraids, and always yields the same joy. ah! this is a powerful rival to wife or maid; and no wonder that at last the woman succumbs, consents, and, rather than lose her lord or master, even supplies the hated herb with her own fair hands. "there are rules to limit this indulgence. one must never smoke, nor even ask to smoke, in the company of the fair. if they know that in a few minutes you will be running off to your cigar, the fair will do well--say it is in a garden, or so--to allow you to bring it out and smoke it there. "one must never smoke, again, in the streets--that is, in daylight. the deadly crime may be committed, like burglary, after dark, but not before. "one must never smoke in a room inhabited at times by the ladies; thus, a well-bred man, who has a wife or sister, will not offer to smoke in the dining-room after dinner. "one must never smoke in a public place, where ladies are or might be; for instance, a flower-show or promenade. "one may smoke in a railway-carriage, in spite of by-laws, if one has first obtained the consent of every one present; but if there be a lady there, though she give her consent, smoke not. in nine cases out of ten, she will give it from good nature.* *in america, cars are especially provided for smokers, and no gentleman will violate etiquette by smoking in any other. "one must never smoke in a close carriage; one may ask and obtain leave to smoke, when returning from a pic-nic or expedition, in an open carriage. "one must never smoke in a theatre, on a race-course, nor in church. this last is not, perhaps, a needless caution. in the belgian churches you see a placard announcing: "_ici on ne mache pas du tabac._' "one must never smoke when anybody shows an objection to it. "one must never smoke a pipe in the streets. "one must never smoke at all in the coffee-room of a hotel. "one must never smoke, without asking permission, in the presence of a clergyman. "but if you smoke, or if you are in the company of smokers, and are to appear afterwards in the presence of ladies, you must change your clothes to smoke in. a host who invites you to smoke will generally offer you an old coat for the purpose. "you must also after smoking rinse the mouth well out, and if possible brush the teeth. "you should never smoke in another person's house without leave, and you should not ask leave to do so, if there are ladies in the house. "when you are going to smoke a cigar, you should offer one at the same time to anybody present. "you should always smoke a cigar given to you whether good or bad, and never make any remark upon its quality." at a gentleman's party it is the host alone who may call upon any of the company for a toast, a speech or a song. no matter how much others may desire it, they may never invite each other. during the week following a dinner party, it is etiquette for each guest to call upon the hostess, and it is rude to delay the call more than a fortnight. in concluding this chapter we give from a modern english work the following bills of fare for dinners suiting the different seasons of the year, which may be useful to young housekeepers: menus of four choice dinners, adapted to each season of the year. january.--(for ten persons.) consomme soup, with quenelles; turbot, with dutch sauce. two removes.--braized fillet of veal, larded a la chateaubriand; roast turkey, with puree of mushrooms. four entrees.--oyster kromeskys, a la russe; pork cutlets, sauce robert; partridges, a la prince of wales; supreme of fowls, a la macedoine. second course.--pintail; snipes. one remove.--fondu of parmesan cheese. four entremets.-salad, a la rachel; vol-au-vent of preserved greengages; plombieres cream iced; braized celery with brown sauce. april.-(for eight persons.) cray-fish soup; spey trout, parsley sauce. two removes.--boiled fowls, oyster sauce; glazed tongue a la jardiniere. two entrees.--lamb cutlets, asparagus, peas; boudins of rabbits, a la reine. second course.--lobster salad; green goose. four entremets.--orange fritters; tapioca pudding; wine jelly; potatoes a la lyonnaise. june.--(for twelve persons.) puree of green peas, soup; stewed sturgeon, matelotte sauce; fillets of mackerel a la maitre d'hotel. two removes.--roast fore-quarter of lamb; spring chickens a la montmorency. four entrees.--fillets of ducklings, with green peas; mutton cutlets a la wyndham; blanquette of chicken with cucumbers; timbale of macaroni a la milanaise. second course.--pigeons; leveret. two removes.--flemish gauffers; iced souffle. six entremets.-french beans, stewed; mayonnaise of chicken; peas a la francaise; peach jelly with noyau; love's wells glace with chocolate; flave of apricots and rice. october.--(for eight persons.) potage a la julienne; baked haddock, italian sauce. two removes.--braized neck of mutton, en cherveuil; roast pheasant a la chipolata. two entrees.--pork cutlets, tomato sauce; curried rabbit and rice. second course.--roast black-cock; oyster omelette. four entremets.--potatoes a la duchesse; blanc mange; apple tartlets; semolina pudding. menu of a first rate christmas dinner. turtle soup; turbot a la vatel; fillets of sole a la tartare. three removes.--roast turkey, perigueux sauce; braized ham a la jardiniere; spiced round of beef. four entrees.--marrow patties; salmi of pheasants a la financiere; sweet breads a la saint cloud; mutton cutlets a la vicomtesse. second course.--woodcocks; grouse; mince pies; plum pud ding. six entremets.--broccoli with parmesan cheese; italian creams; croute a l'amanas; salad a la rachel; meringues a la parisienne; punch jelly. balls. the form of invitations will be found on page . an invitation to a ball should be sent out from two to three weeks before the evening, and should be answered within a day or two of being received. as to the number of guests to be invited, no precise rules can be laid down. the size of your room does not seem to be any guide. the custom is to ask rather more than twice as many as your rooms will hold; but one-third more will be enough, as it will allow of disappointments at the last moment, even if all have accepted the invitations. besides, during the gayest of the season, the fashion of going to several balls in one night necessitates ensuring the presence of a sufficiently large number of guests all through the evening. if you really wish for dancing, do not exceed the last limits. if, however, your aim is to have the largest ball of the season, a crush and crowd, to make a sensation, then invite your entire visiting list, and endure the consequences. a hundred guests constitute a "ball;" over that, a "large ball;" under that, merely a "dance." one of the first requisites of a ball-room is thorough ventilation, especially if there is a prospect of a large number of guests. one of the most desirable points in a ball is to have a beautifully arranged room. the floor must be well waxed, and perfectly even, and it is well to draw a cord across two-thirds of it, not admitting more than can dance inside the space so cut off at once. the french make their ball-rooms perfect flower-gardens. every comer has its immense bouquet; the walls are gracefully wreathed; bouquets, baskets, and exquisitely decorated pots of growing plants are placed in every available place. the staircases, landings, and supper-room are all filled with floral treasures, harmonizing with fine effect with the brilliant lights and gay the dresses of the ladies. it adds to the effect to conceal the musicians behind a screen of evergreen and flowers. the dressing-rooms should be provided with two servants apiece, and small cards, with the names of the invited guests upon them, should be in readiness to pin to the wraps of each one. in each dressing-room, have plenty of water, soap, and towels upon the washstand, several brushes and combs, small hand-mirrors, pin- cushions well filled, and stick pomade upon the bureau. the ladies' room should also have hair-pins, a work-box in readiness to repair any accidental rip or tear; cologne, hartshorn, and salts, in case of faintness. the gentlemen's room should be provided with a boot-jack, a whisk, and a clothes-brush. no one should accept an invitation to a ball who cannot or who will not dance. they are mere encumbrances. nothing is more trying to the feelings of a hostess than to see a number of wallflowers ornamenting (?) her ball-room. the hour at which one may go to a ball varies from ten o'clock in the evening until daybreak. any one who attends several balls in one evening will, of course, find it impossible to appear at an early hour at each one. the lady of the house--who should, if possible, know the name of everybody who enters the room--must stand near the door, so as to receive her guests, to each of whom she must find something to say, no matter how trifling. the host must also be near, to welcome arrivals, and the sons to introduce people. the young ladies must see that the dances are kept up, and should not dance themselves till they have found partners for all their friends. they may with perfect propriety ask any gentleman present to be introduced to a partner, and he is bound to accept the invitation; but the lady must be careful whom she asks. many present may be entire strangers to her. miss a. has brought her betrothed; miss b. introduces her cousin, captain ---, on a short leave of absence from his regiment in texas; miss c. presents her brother, just returned from california; miss d. begs leave to introduce a cousin on a short visit to the city; miss e., a belle, has informed a dozen or two of her admirers where they may bow to her on the evening of the ball. all these strangers bow to the hostess, and must be provided with partners. the "man in the club window" says: "i have known a case where a distinguished-looking young man, having declined the lady's invitation to dance, but being pressed by,' i can't make up the lancers without you,' somewhat reluctantly accepted, performed his part so well that his partner was quite _eprise_ with him, and even ventured on a little flirtation. you can imagine her dismay when, a little later in the evening, she saw her charming acquaintance carrying up a pile of plates from the kitchen to the supper-room. for the first time in her life, she had danced with an occasional waiter." if a gentleman act as escort to a lady, he must call at her house, at the hour she appoints, with a carriage, and he is expected to send a bouquet in the course of the afternoon. upon reaching the house of the hostess for the evening, he must escort his fair charge to the dressing-room, leave her at the door, make his own toilet as rapidly as possibly, and return to meet the lady at the dressing-room door again, escort her to the ball-room, and at once to the hostess. she is obliged by etiquette to dance the first dance with him; but after that, he may with propriety allow her liberty to select other partners, always watching, however, to see that she is never neglected. he must be her escort to supper, and ready at any moment to leave the ball-room to escort her home again. if a gentleman is unaccompanied by a lady, he must invite one of the ladies of the house for the first dance, and yield gracefully if she declines on the plea of want of room or partners for all her guests, consenting smilingly if she requests him to lead out the homeliest and most awkward of her wall-flowers. the music must be first a march, then a quadrille, a polka, a waltz, a galop, and so on, with two or three round dances to each quadrille, until fourteen dances are completed, when another march announces supper. seven to ten dances may follow supper. each guest must be provided with a ball-card with a printed programme of the dances, and space for the engagements upon it, and a tiny pencil attached to it. many ladies carry their own engagement- card; but they must depend upon the programme for the order of dances. the fashion of hanging a few printed programmes in the room is not considered _en regle_. the supper-room must be thrown open at midnight, and remain open until the ball closes. it is, however, an extreme of bad taste and low breeding for gentlemen to cluster round the table in groups and remain there. it is one of the duties of the hostess to see that no young lady loses her supper for want of an escort to the slipper-room. if there are no young gentlemen in the family, she must request one of her guests to go to the rescue of the forlorn maiden. no gentleman must wait until the music has commenced before selecting his partner. a lady who declines dancing on the pretext of fatigue must dance no more, unless she has said she wished to rest for that dance alone. if a lady decline dancing with a gentlemen, it is rude for him to turn from her to another lady who has heard the refusal, and invite her to dance. if the first lady has a prior engagement, he must seek another partner in another part of the room; if she refuses from fatigue or a disinclination to dance that set, it is a compliment to her for him to remain beside her, and endeavor to entertain her while the dance is in progress. a lady should never give her bouquet, gloves, and fan to a gentleman to hold during a dance, unless he is her husband, brother, or escort for the evening. a gentleman, in waltzing with a young lady, must never encircle her waist until the dance actually commences, and drop his arm from around her as soon as the music ceases. american gentlemen would do well to study the waltz with a german teacher, as they understand more perfectly than any others the most delicate way of dancing this objectionable dance, and, above all, how to hold a lady lightly and firmly without embracing her. when a lady expresses a desire to sit down before the close of a dance, it is exceedingly rude for a gentlemen to insist upon a continuation of the dance. he must escort her to a seat at once, and then express his regret at the interrupted pleasure. she may with propriety release him to seek another partner, but it is a poor compliment for him to accept the proposal. a gentleman should never invite a lady to be his partner in a dance with which he is not perfectly familiar. it is tiresome in the extreme to guide a partner through a dance, and the ballroom is not a dancing-school for practice. if a gentleman takes a lady's seat during a dance, he must rise from it as soon as the dance is over, not waiting for her to actually return to it, as she may hesitate to do if she sees that it is occupied. no lady must enter or cross a ball-room unescorted. no lady may refuse to be introduced to a gentleman at a private ball; but at a public ball she may with perfect propriety refuse any introduction made by the master of ceremonies, or by mere acquaintances. confidential conversation in a ball-room is in extreme bad taste. do not be too particular about dancing. taking steps in a quadrille is out of date, all the figures being executed to a graceful walk. to remain too late at a ball is not well-bred, and seems to imply that you are unaccustomed to such pleasures. do not engage yourself, therefore, for the last two or three dances. no gentleman should take the vacant seat next to a lady unless he is acquainted with her, and not then without first asking permission. a gentleman must offer his arm, never his hand, to lead a lady to and from the dance. a lady must be very careful not to engage herself to two gentlemen for the same dance, unless, for a round dance, she states: "i am engaged for the first half of the waltz, but will dance the second part with you." in that case, she must tell her first partner of her second engagement, that she may not offend him when she takes another partner after leaving him. if a lady wishes to decline dancing, whether from dislike to the gentleman who invites her, or from whatever cause, she must make some excuse; but she must never refuse point blank, nor must she, after having refused to dance with one gentleman, consent to dance with another. when introduced, it is sufficient for a gentleman to say to a lady, "may i have the pleasure of dancing this waltz with you, miss c---?" or if the lady be engaged for the first dance following the introduction, he may request the favor of putting his name upon her engagement card for another. a young lady should not dance more than twice with the same gentleman, unless she wants to be noticed, or is indifferent whether she be so or not. a lady may consult her own pleasure about recognizing a ballroom acquaintance at a future meeting. every gentleman must make a point of inviting the ladies of the house to dance; and if he be kind, he will certainly devote himself--for a portion of the evening, at least--to those ladies for whom the may of life has bloomed and passed away, and who generally sit round the room looking wistfully disconsolate. after every dance following the announcement of supper, offer your partner your arm, and invite her to the supper-room (at a ball, refreshments are never handed round). should she decline going, or has already been there, take her back to her chaperon, or party, and, procuring a seat for her, thank her for the pleasure the dance has afforded you. no lady should detain her partner long in the supper-room; she may be thus forcing him to be guilty of the rudeness of breaking an engagement with another lady for the following dance. no gentleman should linger round the supper-table. your hostess invites you to a ball to dance, and be agreeable, not to haunt her supper-room, as if you were starving. avoid all absence of mind, staring, listlessness, and other eccentricities. never swing your arms about, and try to avoid being conspicuous in any way. take the partner with whom you may happen to be dancing when supper is announced to the supper-table, unless she has come with a gentleman, in which case you must not usurp his privilege. if she is disengaged, escort her to a seat in the supper-room, if possible, and see that she is served with the dishes she selects. do not take your own supper at the same time; wait till the lady has finished; then take her back to the ball-room, and repeat the process, if necessary, with some other lonely damsel. when all the ladies have been once to the supper-room, the gentlemen may think of their own supper. gloves of white kid must be worn during the entire evening, and it is well to have a fresh pair in readiness to put on after supper. on quitting a ball, it is not necessary to take a formal leave of the hostess. indeed, it is preferable to make your departure as quietly as possible, in order to prevent the others from thinking it later than perhaps it is, and so breaking up the ball at an earlier hour than the hostess may desire. if a gentleman escorts a lady home from a ball, she is not obliged to invite him to enter, and if she does so, he must decline the invitation. he must, however, request permission to call the following day or evening, and he must make that call. a gentleman in a ball-room cannot be too careful not to injure the delicate fabric worn by the ladies around him. spurs are in bad taste, even if a cavalry officer is otherwise in full uniform. while one dance is in progress, it is not in good taste to make arrangements for another. it is a gross breach of etiquette on the part of either a lady or a gentleman to forget a ball-room engagement. it is not according, to etiquette for married people to dance together at either a private or a public ball. morning and evening parties. parties in the city comprise conversaziones, private concerts, private theatricals, soirees, dramatic readings, tea-parties, matinees--fact, almost any in-door gathering together of people, exclusive of balls and dinner companies. in the country, small dancing-parties, tea-parties, and conversaziones are also comprised under the head of parties; but the outdoor occasions are of much greater number and variety: croquet parties, sailing parties, boating parties, pic-nics, private fetes, berrying parties, nutting parties, may festivals, fourth of july festivals --in fact, anything that will give an excuse for a day spent in out-door frolicking. for a conversazione, under which head are included "receptions" and "at homes," invitations should be sent out a week beforehand. conversation is, as the name implies, the principal occupation for the time, and where literary people are gathered together, or those engrossed in scientific matters, the sole one. for parties of young people, however, the conversazione admits of music and impromptu dances. for all small evening parties, the host and hostess remain near the door during the early part of the evening, to receive their guests. late comers, however, must not expect to find them still nailed to this one spot, as, after the majority of the guests are assembled, their duty is to circulate round the room and entertain them. they should, however, be quick to observe any late arrivals, and advance to welcome them as soon as possible. as the guests enter the room, the hostess should advance a step or two towards them, speaking a few words of cordial welcome, to the elder ladies first, then to the younger ones, and finally to the gentlemen. if the new comers are strangers to the rest of the guests, she must introduce them at once to those present; if, however, there are mutual friends present, it is their duty to leave the hostess after a few minutes, that she may be free to receive her other friends. the hostess must remain constantly amongst her guests. for her to fidget in and out constantly, as if cooking the supper, or training the waiters, is a mark of low breeding. the most perfectly well-bred hostess is the one who seems to have no thought beyond the circle of her guests. as many rooms as possible should be thrown open and supplied with objects of interest in the arts and sciences. people of some public note, whether for travel, art, learning, science, or any attainment, are often placed upon exhibition at the conversazione. if such a lion is invited, it is well to have others, even if of lesser magnitude, to prevent too much attention being concentrated upon one guest. if a hostess sees that a _tete-a-tete_ conversation is becoming dull, she must make it a trio by the introduction of some sprightly third, or change the duet by substituting another partner and carrying off one to introduce elsewhere. if, however, any conversation seems to be animated and giving pleasure, neither of the parties so engaged will thank the hostess for interruption. if dancing is introduced, the etiquette of the ball-room is also the etiquette for the evening party. it is best for the hostess to provide a pianist, if she does not herself preside at the piano, as it is excessively ill-bred to expect part of the guests to play for the remainder to dance. many good-natured people find themselves thus victimized--invited "because they are always so willing to play for dancing." it is a good plan in a dancing party to have ices alone handed round once or even twice during the evening, and a hot supper later, if at all. ices, lemonade, cake, confectionery, and fruits are, however, quite sufficient refreshment for small parties. if the evening of a party is stormy, the hostess should have a waiter at the door, with a _large_ umbrella, to escort the guests from the carriages to the house, or, better still, have an awning stretched across the sidewalk. if a party is mixed-conversation, music, and dancing, all forming a portion of the evening's entertainment-it is the part of the hostess to invite guests to sing and play, and she must be careful not to overlook any amateurs in her invitations. if a guest declines, it is in bad taste to urge the performance. if the lady of the house is herself a good performer, she must play or sing but once, and then after all others have been first invited. a guest should only be invited to play once, unless at a generally expressed desire of the remainder of the company. it is best for amateur performers to learn a few pieces of music without depending upon their notes, as, if they send or carry notes, it is a hint that they expect to be invited to play; if they do not, they are obliged to decline when invited. it is excessively rude to converse loudly when any one is playing or singing. if your companion does not cease talking, to listen, converse in a very low tone, and withdraw from the immediate vicinity of the performer. on the other hand, if you are invited to play, do not wait for quiet in the room, nor exhibit any annoyance if your most exquisite passages are drowned in the buzz of conversation. a gentleman who is a good pianist may, with perfect propriety, offer his services to the hostess as orchestra for impromptu dancing, or may offer to relieve any lady so engaged, to allow her to dance. if, however, there are more ladies than gentlemen, and he is needed to fill up a set, he must not insist upon playing, but go where he is most needed. never offer to turn the leaves for any one playing unless you can read music rapidly; otherwise you may confuse the performer by turning too soon or too late. never offer to sing a second unless invited by the lady who is to sing also. the hostess may wish her friends to hear a duet, which will be disagreeable to the performers. members of the same family, cousins or other relatives, should not keep together in general society. they can see each other on other occasions, and the object of parties is to promote sociality, not exclusiveness. if you are asked to play an accompaniment, do not seek to display your own talent, but play so as to afford the best support possible for the voice singing. the same rule applies to a second in any instrumental duet, which is never intended to drown the sound of the leading instrument. when the lady of the house invites any lady guest to sing or play, the gentleman standing nearest to her should offer his arm to escort her to the piano or harp. he should stand near her during the performance of the music, and, if competent, turn the leaves of her music. she may also request him to hold her gloves, bouquet and fan. when she rises, he should conduct her to a seat, and thank her for the pleasure she has given him and others. it is ill-bred to comment upon the piano, even if shockingly out of tune or worn out. to look at a six-octave piano and decline playing because all your music is written for seven octaves, is positively insulting to a hostess. if it is true, decline upon some other pretext. private concerts and theatricals ought to be very good to be successful. professional singers should be secured for the former, and if amateurs sing, they must be very confident of their own powers before making the attempt to appear before an audience, even of personal friends. between the parts, conversation may flow, but is rude in the extreme during the performances. the best hours are from two to six or from eight to eleven p.m. the rooms should be arranged so as to allow a clear space at one end for the performers; the guests should be seated, and a general silence prevail excepting during the intervals of the performance. if the concert is divided into two parts, it is quite permissible to rise during the intermission, promenade if agreeable, meet friends, and change seats, being careful to be seated again when the performance re-commences. for private theatricals, only the best amateurs should be retained. it is very rude to talk during the acts, and while applause should not be too boisterous, disapproval by hissing or otherwise is a thing unheard of. ices and light refreshments should be handed round between the acts. where there is no arrangement for a private theatre, and where the curtain is hung, as is most common, between the folding-doors, the audience-room must be filled with chairs or benches in rows, and, if possible, the back rows raised higher than the others. these are often removed at the close of the performance, and the guests then converse or dance. to beat time or hum the air at a concert is in extremely bad taste. it is the part of the hostess at a private concert and private theatricals--which latter include charades, tableaux, proverbs, and dramatic readings--to arrange the programmes and apportion the parts, unless she appoints a stage-manager amongst her guests. the performers should seek to aid her by perfect good-nature in accepting her arrangements, and by willingness to accept any allotted part, even if distasteful or obscure. all cannot be first, and the performer who good-naturedly accepts a small part, and performs it _well_, will probably be invited to a more conspicuous position on the next occasion. the hostess or host must never take conspicuous parts, unless they are solicited to do so by all the rest of the _corps dramatique_. nothing but the most absolute necessity, or an excuse from some very grave cause, should prevent the attendance of any one who has undertaken a part. it is a positive insult to the rest of the party to inconvenience them by remaining away upon some trivial excuse, for the smallest part must be filled by somebody, and it is not easy to furnish substitutes upon such occasions. the hostess should consult each performer before allotting to them a part, and endeavor to suit each one. private concerts and private theatricals should be followed by a supper, as they are fatiguing for the performers, and oftentimes as much so to the audience. if a party are invited to an informal dramatic reading, it is not necessary to divide the room, excepting by a large table, upon which the books are placed. the host or hostess, while endeavoring to give to each guest the most favorable opportunity to display their own powers, should still, if they are good readers, be ready to oblige their guests by reading also, carefully avoiding any attempt to outshine them. matinees are usually held in the open air, in some good ground, in which a brass band should be playing, and plenty of good flowers displayed, embellished by the best dressed people it is possible to assemble together. there are not any introductions; people amuse themselves as best they can. luncheon may be spread in- doors, or upon tables under the trees, or if tents are erected, inside of these. fruits, ices, salads, cold meats, confectionery- in short, any cold collation, with wine, tea, and coffee, should be served. full morning dress is most appropriate. croquet parties are very fashionable, and meet generally at about three p.m. the host should be careful to have his grounds well shaded, his mallets, balls, and other arrangements in perfect order. seats for such guests as are not playing should be scattered about in shady places. refreshments may be handed round between the games, or arranged as for matinees. within the past few years, a species of entertainment of a past generation has been revived in england, and some attempts have been made to introduce it in this country. it was, and is, called the "kettledrum." tea and coffee, with biscuit and cake, are served round from five to half-past five. any one in the visiting circle of the house may go without an invitation; the dress is full morning dress, and the guests dance until seven o'clock. from them guests often go to dinner parties, and thence to balls, so that a man may be considered to be in harness to society from five p.m. to a.m., and to be rather hardly driven, too. ceremony is laid aside upon these occasions, and people act with greater freedom than at more formal gatherings. in country parties, ceremony is often required, even upon occasions where more freedom of action would be desirable. inattention to this matter may give offence, as the hostess may fancy herself slighted merely because she is not city-bred. avoid in country parties treading upon delicate ground, talking of local squabbles, church matters, or the acknowledged feud of the village. be punctual to the time stated for any kind of a country party, as one late arrival may delay the carriages, boats, or other conveyances of an entire party. many of these expeditions start at a very early hour, to avoid the road during the heat of the day, and if you accept the invitation, you must relinquish your morning nap and appear at the appointed time. seek out the hostess upon your arrival, and if you can in any way assist her, either by running for tardy servants, packing luncheon hampers, arranging the order of vehicles, or any other _last_ duties, do so with alacrity. private fetes in the country correspond to matinees in town, and the same rules apply. at pic-nics, whether water or land parties, etiquette is set at naught; yet the true gentleman and lady will never leave true courtesy and politeness at home, even if they lay aside forms and ceremonies. everybody is to enjoy the time and freedom as much as possible, "within the limits of becoming mirth;" yet an act of rudeness, a disregard of the gentle and delicate attentions of society, will never increase the pleasure. gentlemen at pic-nics must consent to become waiters, guides, servants to the ladies; must "scale mountains," climb trees, perform any feats desired by the fair tyrants, if they fancy "that lovely flower," or "exquisite bunch of sea-weed," in impossible- to-get-at places. if on a fishing party, it is the gentlemen's place to bait the hooks for the fair anglers, to assist them in landing their prey, to find them shady nooks for seats, and in every way to assist them. if nutting or berrying are the objects of the party, the gentlemen must climb the nut-trees, seek out the berry-bushes, carry double allowances of baskets and kettles, and be ready for any assistance required in climbing fences or scrambling over rocks. by the way, the etiquette for climbing a fence is for the gentleman to go over as gracefully as possible, turn his back upon the lady, and not look round until she claims his hand to spring from the topmost bar. she will not thank him if he insists upon shoving her over first, or watches her while she climbs up. boisterous deportment is not in good taste. even the most romping games may be conducted as becomes ladies and gentlemen, not as clowns. couples should avoid straying too long or too far from their companions. even if the luncheon or dinner is spread on the grass, or eaten out of a basket, gentlemen will see to the comfort of the ladies before eating themselves, and, need i say, the freedom from the restraints of the table affords no excuse for gluttony or rudeness of any description. on returning from a pic-nic, the thanks of the party are due to the originators of it, and should be paid by each one before the company disperses. singing a comic song is a dangerous experiment, as you may be personal without intending it. an english lady of rank, speaking of an evening party, says: "at an evening party, given expressly in honor of a distinguished lady of color, we heard a thoughtless amateur dash into the broadly comic, but terribly inappropriate' nigger' song of' 'sally, come up.' before he had got through the first verse, he had perceived his mistake, and was so overwhelmed with shame that he could scarcely preserve sufficient presence of mind to carry him through to the end." a modern writer of talent says: "your pleasure at any party will depend far more upon what you take with you into the room than upon what you find there. ambition, vanity, pride, will all go with anxiety, and you will probably carry them all home again, with the additional burden of disappointment. even if they are all gratified, you will know that others are disliking you, even if envious of you. to go with a sincere desire to please others by amiability, good-nature and sympathy will probably result in your own popularity, and if you entirely forget yourself, you will be astonished to find how much others insist upon remembering you." if at any morning or evening party you meet a distinguished guest, it is ill-bred to follow him from one place to another, listening to every word he utters, and making him have the uncomfortable sensation of being "stared at." impromptu charades are a very popular amusement at the present day, at both in-door and out-door parties. if you have no talent for them, you will only confuse others and make yourself appear absurd by insisting upon taking a part; but even if you are dull, do not refuse your assistance if it is really required, trying, by tact and modesty, to cover up any deficiency in wit or talent. the best rule for the management of parties, be they in-door or out-door, morning or evening, city or country, is to endeavor to find out the wishes of the majority of the guests and act upon that knowledge. to force a large party of people to listen to awkward, bungling charades, because two or three amateur actors desire to "show off," proves a want of tact in the hostess; to allow a few young people to guide the entertainments in a large assembly of older and graver ones, is in equally bad taste; it is, of course, better to assemble together as far as possible only those who are likely to be congenial and interested in the same subjects; but this is not always possible, and where the company is mixed, the republican spirit should preside, and the "majority rule." one word of warning to all who give parties. you can never tell what ruin may be commencing when you urge wines or intoxicating beverages upon your young guests. you may be the first to stimulate the appetite; you may renew a passion that has been subdued; you may turn a wavering will from the hardly gained resolution to abstain. there are instances, not a few, but many, where the love of liquor, conquered and subdued, has been revived in fiercest heat by cordials, brandied peaches, wine-sauces, and similar apparently innocent refreshments. it is better to appear mean than to tempt to ruin, and in these days of temperance movements, no lady will be censured or misunderstood who banishes every drop of intoxicating liquor from her table. visiting. never pay any visit upon a general invitation. the spanish hidalgo, who declares to you that his house, lands, all that he has, are yours, would be greatly surprised if you appropriated any of his things. it is the same thing, more or less, with people elsewhere who give people general invitations to take up their quarters in their houses. there are instances of visits of a month's duration being made upon the invitation, "if you visit b---, i hope that you will not forget that i reside there, and will be very happy to see you." yet, even where friends are not newly made, but of long standing, it is best not to pay visits unless by special invitation. a thousand events may occur to render it inconvenient for one friend to have company that cannot be known to another, hundreds of miles, perhaps, away. if a friend really desires to extend hospitality to another, she will send her an invitation, which can be accepted with the prospect of mutual convenience and pleasure. even in travelling, if you are unexpectedly detained in a city where you have friends, do not drive to their house uninvited. go first to a hotel, and let them know of your arrival, leaving it optional with them to extend hospitality. to drive at once to the house, with your baggage, forces an invitation, which may cause much annoyance and inconvenience, even if they are really glad to see you, and it also renders you liable to be accused of meanness and a desire to save your hotel bill. if you are afraid your friends will feel hurt if you do not "make their house your home," at least write to them and ascertain if they can conveniently receive you as you pass through their city. even with relatives, it is better to announce your coming, that your hostess may so arrange her engagements and household as to leave her time to really enjoy your visit. a special invitation should specify who is invited, and no one not mentioned should go. "love me, love my dog," is a proverb that will not apply in such cases. a person who is invited to visit at a friend's house is not at liberty to bring children and servants who were not included in the invitation. a wife may, of course, accompany her husband, unless there be special reason to the contrary, and a husband must always have the opportunity of accompanying his wife, or joining her. if the length of your visit is not specified in your invitation, a week is a good limit for your stay. at all events, make a move at the end of that time, and if you are invited to stay longer, and know that it is convenient for you to do so, the time can then be definitely decided upon. when you receive an invitation by letter, answer it at the earliest possible moment, and say decidedly whether you accept or decline it. to leave your friends in doubt may prevent the same invitation being extended to others. as soon as possible after accepting an invitation, write and let your friends know by what train to expect you, and keep your engagement, that you may not keep any one waiting for you at the station for nothing. if you are unavoidably detained, write or telegraph and say so, naming another hour for your arrival. in inviting a friend to pay you a visit, name a season when will you will be able to devote most of your time to their entertainment. have always a room devoted especially to your guest, and be sure that no one intrudes there without a special invitation, and never enter it yourself without an invitation to do so. before the arrival of a guest, see yourself that the room is in perfect order, well warmed if in winter, shaded and cool if in summer; let there be every convenience for bath and change of dress, and writing materials and stamps ready to write if desired before unpacking. have always a feather bed and mattress, both feather and hair pillows upon the bed, that your guest may have the choice. many prefer feathers in the warmest weather, others a mattress even in winter. let the fire, in winter, be made every morning before your guest rises, and keep a good supply of fuel in the room. it is the duty of the host to send a carriage to the depot to meet an expected visitor, and if possible to go himself. after a warm welcome, show the guest at once to the room prepared, and give ample time for a bath and change of dress, if it is in the day time. if the arrival is late in the evening, have a substantial supper prepared, and then allow the traveller to retire, being careful that on the first arrival the breakfast can be ready at a late hour, that your friend may not be disturbed to breakfast with the family. it is the duty of the hostess to share the meals of a guest, no matter how irregular; but any truly polite person will pay strict attention to the customary meal times. when staying with friends, endeavor as much as possible to conform to their regular habits. be punctual at meal times. ascertain over-night the hour for breakfast, and be particular to be dressed in time for it. after breakfast, it is customary to leave visitors to their own devices, unless some special arrangement is made for the forenoon; but the hostess should introduce her guests to the piano, billiard-table, portfolios library-any device for passing time at her command; and the visitor should accept this hint, and expect no further attention during the forenoon. it is, however, the duty of the host and hostess to accompany their guests to any points of interest in their city or neighborhood, to accompany them if they desire to do any shopping, and if they have any special habit, as rising late, napping in the afternoon, or other little self-indulgence, to see that they are never disturbed in it. it is also a kindly courtesy, if your friends have acquaintances ill the city beside yourself, to inform them of their arrival, even if strangers to yourself, and invite them to call, dine, or take tea during the visit. if you give your guests a party, you must invite all their friends in the city, even if they are strangers to yourself. invite them in your guest's name, enclosing your own invitation in theirs. host and hostess should give up as much of their time as possible to their guests, and should see that they are amused and taken care of. it is a mistake, however, to suppose that visitors require constant attention, and they should be careful not to "bore" them by over-attention, which savors of fussiness. a guest will often under such circumstances long for a lonely hour to devote to music, reading, or sewing, but does not like to express the desire. the truest courtesy is for the host to make his visitor feel as much at home as possible, and for the visitor to disturb the host's household as little as possible. where a lady is visiting, she may with perfect propriety offer to assist her hostess in her household duties or family sewing; but if she declines, it is bad taste to insist. she should, however, leave her hostess free for such duties in the morning, being always ready to join her in the sitting-room when she is at leisure. it is a graceful way to acknowledge the kindness of your hostess to work whilst with her upon some piece of embroidery, a pianocover, a sofa-cushion, or some article of dress, which you present to her when finished as a memento of your visit. for a guest to make outside engagements, disregard the meal times, visit without consulting the host or hostess, is to treat the house of a friend as if it were a hotel, and is not only rude, but positively insulting. it is best, if you are visiting a large city, and desire to do shopping or to transact business, to select the hours when you know your entertainers are otherwise engaged for such business, and not tax them to accompany you, unless they have similar affairs requiring attention, when it may be pleasanter to have company. neither hostess nor guest may accept any invitations which do not include the other. if either hostess or visitor is in mourning, the other must decline all invitations during the visit, giving that as a reason. it is always accepted in society as sufficient excuse. if any sudden trouble comes into a house where you are visiting, try to be of service. let your friend feel that you have not visited her for gayety alone, but are glad to sympathize in her trouble. if sickness or death come, share the nursing, try to relieve the hostess of some of her family cares, if it is only taking the children into your own room or out for a walk; be ready to do the shopping required for mourning, and take away every painful detail you can. there is no comfort so great as a really useful sympathizing friend in times of trouble; yet if relatives come and require rooms, if you find you are a restraint and can be of no use, it is the truest kindness to shorten your visit, and leave the mourners free to comfort each other. when visiting, never depend upon your host for writing or sewing materials; but it is a delicate attention for you, if hostess, to have your guest's room amply supplied with both. it is extremely rude for visitors to make comparisons between the house at which they are visiting and others where they have enjoyed hospitality. to inform your hostess indirectly that her house, furniture, table, or servants are inferior to those of other friends, is insulting, and it is as much so to cast the slur upon the first house visited by vaunting the superiority of the second. to a certain extent, use your friend's servants as your own wholly so as far as your own personal wants require their services. ask for whatever you want in your own room, and give any requisite directions to the servant who waits upon you. do not trouble the mistress of the house with matters which in your own house you would give to a servant. at the same time, avoid being troublesome; put out your own washing, and any extra work you require done, and never call upon the servants at hours when they are otherwise employed. if you are unfortunate enough during a visit to injure any article of furniture in your own room, have it repaired or replaced at once at your own expense. it is a graceful compliment for a gentleman during a visit to bring flowers, fruit, books, or confectionery occasionally to the hostess, and a lady friend will be gratefully remembered if she is kind to the children. if a gift is made, it must be to the hostess, or if there are several children, to the youngest. if children are over twelve years old, it is better to give any present to the mother; but you will never give offence by a gift to the baby. a gentleman may give baby jewelry, and a lady a piece of handsome needlework. you may be sure the parents will find no fault with this acknowledgment of their hospitality. always hold yourself at the disposal of those in whose house you are staying. if they propose to ride, drive, walk, or other wise occupy the day, you must take it for granted that these plans are made with reference to your enjoyment. you should receive them with cheerfulness and enter into them with alacrity, doing your best to seem pleased, and be pleased, by the efforts made to entertain you. never mind if it is the twentieth time you have driven to "see the lovely view from the hill four miles from here," or you have paid a dozen previous visits to "that beautiful waterfall just above the lake;" you must find a new tree to admire, or a new point to sketch every time you go. it is not expected that the host or hostess can devote the entire day to guests. sir walter scott's conduct towards his guests at abbotsford furnishes a model of hospitality. he never saw them till dinner; but whilst he was busily engaged in writing, he left his house, servants, carriages, horses, and grounds at their entire disposal. byron gives a perfect picture of guest life at a country house: "the gentlemen got up betimes to shoot, or hunt; the young, because they liked the sport the first thing boys like, after play and fruit; the middle-aged, to make the day more short; for ennui is a growth of english root, though nameless in our language-we retort the fact for words, and let the french translate that awful yawn which sleep cannot abate. "the elderly walked through the library, and tumbled books, or criticized the pictures, or sauntered through the garden piteously, and made upon the hot-house several strictures; or rode a nag which trotted not too high, or in the morning papers read their lectures; or on the watch their longing eyes would fix, longing at sixty for the hour of six." "but none were 'gene;' the great hour of union was rung by dinner's knell! till then all were masters of their own time-or in communion, or solitary, as they chose to bear the hours,-which how to pass to few is known. each rose up at his own, and had to spare what time he chose for dress, and broke his fast when, where, and how he chose for that repast."' in this country, hospitality is but seldom conducted on the lavish broad scale possible at an english country residence; but, as far as possible, it is better to allow guests perfect liberty for breakfast hour and morning employments. great discretion must be used among guests to avoid all criticism on their host, his friends, his household, his manner of living, and all that concerns him. if anything goes wrong during the visit, one should seem not to see it. if the dinner is late, it is very impolite to appear impatient. if any plan falls to the ground, no comments or disapproval must be indulged in, and no disappointment betrayed. if the children of the house are fractious, or noisy, or ill-bred, a visitor must never find fault with their behavior. the same caution must be exercised in the treatment of your friend's friends. they may be such as you do not care to become intimate with; but you must not evince dislike or special avoidance, and must always have recourse rather to a negative than a positive line of conduct. a person of tact can always keep people at a distance without hurting their feelings. your host's horses, carriages, books, and grounds should be even more carefully used than if they were your own. a goodnatured man will delight in seeing his visitors enjoy all the good things he places at their disposal; but they should not abuse his indulgence. to ride a horse too far or too fast, to dog's-ear or blot the books in the library, to gather choice and favorite flowers, are all signs of an under-bred and selfish nature. above all, we should be thoughtful in our treatment of the servants, never commenting upon their shortcomings, or scolding them. the religious opinions, especially of those from whom we are receiving hospitality, must on no account be shocked, scoffed at, or in any way treated with a want of respect. if our friends go regularly to church, we should accompany them there; or, without remark, repair to the place of worship most agreeable to our own religious convictions. if family prayers are read, we should endeavor to be present. if silent grace is the custom at meal times, our heads must also bow, and a short mental prayer be said. if the sunday is observed with great strictness, we should refrain from any pursuits to which objection could possibly be made, even if they appear to ourselves perfectly proper and innocent. in short, we must remember that for the time the feelings and prejudices of the host and hostess are our own. there is no occasion when it is more necessary to remember that social intercourse is made up of innumerable little acts of kindness, self-denial, charity, chivalry, and good-fellowship, than when a number of people find themselves thrown together for companionship in the house of some mutual friend. letters delivered in the presence of the host or hostess, or when the other guests are present, must not be opened until the receiver asks permission to read them. a lady may never offer to pay any of the expenses incurred by taking her about--carriage hire, steamboat fares, or such outlay nor must a gentleman do so unless he is the only gentleman of the party. it will then be well for the hostess, before starting, to hand him the necessary tickets previously purchased. when a guest is ready to leave you, be sure that the trunks are strapped and ticketed, a carriage ready in good season, a luncheon prepared for refreshment upon the journey, a substantial meal ready in good season for comfortable enjoyment of it, and the departure made as pleasant as possible. "welcome the coming, speed the parting guest." it is the first duty of the guest, after returning home, to write to the host or hostess, expressing the pleasure derived from the visit, and mentioning each member of the family by name, desiring to be remembered to all. street etiquette. when a gentleman recognizes a friend in the course of his walk, he must lift his hat with the hand farthest from him. lifting the hat is a sufficient recognition between gentlemen; but in meeting a lady, an old gentleman, or a clergyman, it is necessary to bow also. if a gentleman wishes to shake hands with a friend, he must lift his hat with the left hand, leaving the right free to extend. never must he give his left hand, or extend a portion of the right. the whole right hand is _en regle_. a lady must recognize a gentleman, by bowing, before he is at liberty to acknowledge an acquaintance with her. should she bow, he must lift his hat and bow also. if he is sufficiently barbarous to have a cigar in his mouth, he must remove it while bowing to a lady. if a gentleman is walking with a lady, he should insist upon carrying any book, parcel, or umbrella she may have with her. no gentleman may smoke when walking with a lady. he should even decline to do so though he may be asked to continue smoking. should a lady stop a gentleman to speak, she must make a slight inclination of the head as a token of dismissal, and he must accept it as such, bow, and leave her. no lady will be guilty of the vulgarity of sucking the head of her parasol in the street. to eat anything, even confectionery, in the street, is a sign of low breeding. a gentleman must give a lady, an old gentleman, or clergyman with whom he may be walking, the upper side (nearest the houses) of the pavement. if a gentleman meets a lady friend who is walking with any one he does not know, he must not stop, nor must he stop if his companion is unacquainted with a lady friend whom he may chance to meet. the lady, however, has a perfect right to do as she likes. if she should stop, the strangers must be introduced, and none of the group should go on and wait, whether the introduction be agreeable or not. a lady should avoid walking very rapidly. it is very ungraceful and unbecoming. swinging the arms is an awkward and ill-bred habit. for a lady to run across the street, to avoid a carriage passing, is not only ill-bred, but exceedingly dangerous. to attempt to cross the street between the carriages of a funeral procession is rude and disrespectful; and we cannot but commend the foreign custom of removing the hat, and standing in a respectful attitude until the melancholy train has passed. when a gentleman is walking alone, he must always turn aside to give the upper side of the pavement to a lady, to any one carrying a heavy load, to a clergyman, or to an old gentleman. never push violently through a crowd. if a gentleman or lady is really in haste, a few courteous words will open a passage more quickly than the most vigorous pushing or shoving. if a lady is caught in a shower, and a gentleman offers an umbrella, she may accept it, if he is going in the same direction as herself and accompanies her. if not, and he still insists, etiquette requires the return of the umbrella as soon as the lady reaches her destination. no lady may accept this courtesy from a strange gentleman, but must decline it firmly, but politely. stopping to stare in the shop-windows is against the rules of strict etiquette. if a gentleman and lady are obliged to cross a narrow walk, plank, or slippery place, the lady may go first, and the gentleman walk close behind her, to aid her if needful. if the place is short, then the gentleman should go first, and then offer his hand to assist the lady across. if a gentleman meet a lady or old gentleman at such a crossing, he may, with perfect propriety, assist them in crossing, even if perfect strangers to him. a gentleman must hold his hat in his hand if he stops to inquire his own way, or to direct another. if a gentleman sees a lady alone hesitating at a bad crossing, or leaving a carriage at an awkward place, he may offer his hand to assist her in crossing or alighting, raise his hat, bow, and pass on. a lady may, with perfect propriety, accept such assistance from a stranger, thanking him, and returning his bow. if a lady leaves an omnibus or car alone, the gentleman nearest the door should alight, assist her out, and enter the omnibus again. gentlemen should always pass up the fare of ladies in an omnibus. a lady is not expected to recognize any acquaintance on the opposite side of the street. in a public conveyance, a gentleman should offer his seat to any lady who is standing, and the lady should thank him audibly for the courtesy. to turn his back upon her at once, and thus force her to accept the courtesy in silence or shout her thanks, is rude. a polite bow exchanged is a sufficient acknowledgment. loud talking and laughing in the street are sure signs of vulgarity. never look back after any one passing; it is extremely ill-bred. staring is a mark of low breeding. whispering in a public conveyance is excessively rude. never call out loudly to an acquaintance who may be passing. "cutting" is to be avoided, if possible. there are other ways of convincing a man that you will not know him; yet, to young ladies, it is sometimes the only means available to rid them of a troublesome acquaintance. cutting consists in publicly ignoring, by deed, and, if need be, by word, the acquaintance of the offensive person. a stiff bow will usually effect the desired object; if not, a purposed non-recognition will probably succeed. it must be a very bad case where it is necessary to tell one you "have not the pleasure of an acquaintance" with them. a gentleman must never under any circumstances, cut a lady; an unmarried lady may not cut a married one, nor a young man an old one. george iv., when prince of wales, once cut beau brummell, with whom he had quarrelled. the pair met in st. james-street, each walking with a companion; the companions stopped to speak, but the prince did not see brummell. the latter, to be revenged, and knowing the horror the prince had of being considered corpulent, said to his companion, in a stage whisper, before the others were out of ear-shot, "who is your fat friend?" on meeting and passing people in the street, keep to your right hand, except when giving the upper side of the pavement as before mentioned. let a lady walking with a gentleman have always the upper side of the pavement, even if he changes sides at every turning. young persons, meeting elderly friends in the street, should wait for a recognition before speaking, and then bow respectfully. to nod carelessly at an old person is rude, if not actually insulting. if you meet two gentlemen in the street, and wish to speak to one of them, apologize to the other, and make the detention as brief as possible. if a gentleman is about to enter or to leave a store, and meets a lady in the door-way, he must stand aside, raise his hat, and wait for her to pass. if the door is closed, and she is going the same way as himself, he must pass before her, bow, saying, "permit me," or "allow me to open the door," open it, and hold it open until she has passed. a gentleman walking with a lady should endeavor to accommodate his steps to hers, not force her to stride along or trot with short steps or his long ones. etiquette is too often disregarded in that grand aim of most ladies' excursions on the street--shopping. true politeness will lead a lady to pay some attention to the feelings of the clerks and women in attendance, and they are quick to observe who are ladylike, and who are not, in their intercourse with them. do not enter a store unless you have some errand. ask for what you want as explicitly as possible, and do not take the time of the attendants by examining fifty things that you do not want. if you do not intend to purchase goods, but wish to examine them for future selections, say so. never try to cheapen goods. if the price is too high for the quality offered, or will not suit your purse, look elsewhere for what will better suit you. do not stand hesitating at a counter. make up your mind quickly, or leave the store to make your decision, even if you return again. be careful not to injure goods by handling. never ask for patterns without apologizing for the trouble, and not then unless you really intend to return for the goods, as when you are shopping for a friend, or wish for the judgment or taste of another person. never give unnecessary trouble. it is best to have all bundles sent home; they are awkward additions to a walking-dress, and boys are kept for that purpose in all well-arranged stores. never keep a clerk waiting while you chat with a friend. if you desire to speak with your acquaintances, stand aside, that the clerk may understand he is released for the time, and free to wait upon other customers. never call away a clerk who is waiting upon some one else. wait, if you have business with an especial clerk, until you see that he is disengaged. sneering remarks upon goods is rude in the extreme. if they do not suit you, you are not obliged to buy them; but spare your comments. lounging over a counter is ill-bred. putting your elbows on a counter is rude. pushing aside another person is an act of ill-breeding. you must never take hold of a piece of goods another person is examining. wait until it is replaced upon the counter, when you are at liberty to take it up. stage asides or whispering in a store are rude. it is rude to interrupt friends you may meet in a store, to ask their attention to your purchases, before they have finished making their own. it is as rude to offer your opinion, unasked, upon their judgment or taste in selection of goods. a gentleman walking with two ladies may offer an arm to each of them, and they may thus sandwich him if they wish; but under no circumstances may a lady take the arms of gentlemen at each side of her. if a gentleman is walking with two ladies in a rain-storm, and there is but one umbrella, he should give it to his companions and walk outside. nothing can be more absurd than to see a gentleman walking between two ladies holding an umbrella, which perfectly protects himself, and sends little streams of water from every point on the dresses of the ladies he is supposed to be sheltering. it is in bad taste to talk of personal matters in the street, or to call loudly the names of persons you may mention. it is impossible to say who may be near to you. to discuss friends by name in a public conveyance of any kind is rude in the extreme. if you meet a friend with whom you wish to shake hands, never put out your own until you are quite near, as nothing looks more awkward than hands extended to grasp each other two or three yards apart. never turn a corner at full speed, or you may find yourself knocked down or knocking down another by the violent contact. never bow from a store to a person on the street, or from the street to a person in a store. never talk politics or religion in a public conveyance. never stop to quarrel with a hack-driver. pay his fare, and dismiss him; if you have any complaint to make, take his number, and make it to the proper authorities. to keep a lady standing while you are disputing with a hack-man is extremely rude. it is a sign of ill-breeding to change your seat in a car or omnibus. if you are unfortunate enough to have a neighbor who is positively annoying and unendurable, it is better to get out and take the next conveyance than to move to the other side. a gentleman may move from a crowded side to one left comparatively vacant; but a lady should not do this. in a city, or in any lonely place, a lady must avoid being alone after nightfall, if possible. it exposes her, not only to insult, but often to positive danger. it is very much the custom in small country places for two ladies to take evening walks; but it is better to have the protection of a gentleman if convenient. it is better for a lady to decline entering a car or an omnibus that is already full. she must either stand up or force some polite gentleman to do so. it is better to wait for the next conveyance. riding and driving. the rule of the road, both in riding and driving, is always to "keep to the right, as the law directs." in inviting a lady to ride, if a gentleman cannot offer the use of his own horses, or the lady does not name a horse to which she has been accustomed, he must be careful to select one of proved gentleness, and trained to the side-saddle and riding-skirt. it is exceedingly dangerous to allow a lady to mount a horse which may be entirely strange to a lady's hand or habit; and it is not well to trust this important matter to a livery-stable keeper or servant. a gentleman must be punctual to the appointed time, as it is disagreeable for a lady to sit waiting in-doors in a riding-habit. the lady, too, must exercise strict punctuality, that the horses may not become restive from long standing. arrived at the house of his fair companion, the gentleman must carefully examine the entire furniture of her horse. he must test the firmness of the saddle and girths, examine well the stirrup leather, guard against the danger of any buckle allowing a tongue of leather to slip, see that the curb, bridle, headstall, and reins are in perfect order; for the entire control of the horse is lost if one of these breaks or slips. leaving these matters to the stable-men entirely is unsafe, as the constant handling of the harness is apt to make them careless in fastening and testing it. it is the duty of the gentleman to see the lady comfortably seated in the saddle before he mounts himself. having first asked permission, he leads her to the horse. a groom should not be allowed to render any assistance, if a gentleman is present, except ing to hold the horse's head. the lady stands, with her skirt gathered in her left hand, on the near side of the horse, her right hand on the pommel of the saddle, and her face turned towards the horse's head, the gentleman should stand at the horse's shoulder, facing the lady, and stoop so that her left foot may rest in his hand. when the lady makes a spring, the gentleman should, with gentle firmness, steadily and promptly help her foot up; and when she is in the saddle, he should put her foot in the stirrup, and smooth her skirt. it requires some practice to properly assist a lady into the saddle. if the hand is not perfectly steady, it is very unpleasant, and any jerking motion is not only disagreeable, but positively dangerous. after the lady is in the saddle, her escort should stand beside her until she has arranged her skirt, got a firm foothold in the stirrup, and has her reins and whip in order. he may then mount his own horse, and take his position on the lady's right. in riding with two ladies, if both are good horsewomen, the gentleman should ride to the right of both; but if they are inexperienced, it is better for him to ride between them, to be ready to assist them if necessary. a lady must always give the pace. a gentleman must never touch a lady's horse unless she actually requires his aid; but he should be very watchful and ready for the most prompt attention if it is needed. if a gentleman on horseback meet a lady who is walking, and stops to speak to her, he must dismount until she bows and leaves him. a gentleman must go forward whenever a gate is to be opened or an obstruction to be removed, and clear the way for the lady; he must leap first when there is a fence or ditch to be crossed; he must pay all tolls; must first test any dangerous-looking place, and must try to select the most desirable roads. in dismounting, a gentleman must offer a lady his right hand, taking her left, and using his own left as a step for her foot, declining it gently as soon as she rises from the saddle, and before she springs. to spring from the saddle is not only awkward, but dangerous, and will often confuse a gentleman who is accustomed only to the proper mode of assisting the ladies to whom he offers his services as escort. no gentlemen will force a lady to ride faster than, she may find agreeable, by an endeavor to display his own horsemanship. a gentleman must be careful to protect his lady companion from the dust and mud, as far as possible; and if there is a choice of side for shade, he may, with propriety, ride upon her left, or fall a little behind her, to allow her to take advantage of it. in riding with an elderly gentlemen, a younger man should extend all the courtesies of the road, the shady side, the choice of speed, the choice also of direction, and, if there be a difference, the best horse. in a carriage, where a coachman is outside, the seat on the right hand, facing the horses, is the seat of honor, and should be given to a lady, an elderly gentleman, or the guest. in entering a carriage, be careful that your back is towards the scat you wish to occupy. the seat facing the horses is always left by gentleman for ladies. if a lady and gentleman alone enter a carriage together, the gentleman must take the seat opposite to the lady, unless she invites him to sit beside her. a gentleman be should careful, in entering a carriage, not to trample upon ladies' dresses, shut their shawls in the door, or commit any other gaucheries. it is quite an art to enter or leave a carriage gracefully. in quitting a carriage, a gentleman must go first, even though he may have to trouble the ladies by stepping across the carriage, and he should then help the ladies to alight, taking care not to allow the wheel to soil their dresses. if there be a man-servant with the carriage, a gentleman will allow him to lower the steps, and hold the door open; but he must on no account allow him to help the ladies out while he himself stands by. a gentleman will always convey the orders of the ladies to the coachman. if the carriage is driven by the gentleman himself, there are many little points of etiquette which demand attention. when a gentleman is about to take a lady, an older gentleman, or a guest to drive, he must drive as close as possible to the mounting block or curb, head his horse towards the middle of the road, and back his buggy or wagon slightly, separating the fore and hind wheels as much as possible. this is especially necessary when a lady is to ascend to the wagon, as it gives space for her dress to avoid the contact of the wheels, and allows room for the driver to tuck her dress in after she is seated. it is best to have always a carriage-blanket to cover entirely the skirt of a lady's dress, that the mud of the road may not splash it. when there is a post, it is always safest to hitch the horse securely, and give both hands to the lady's service. never allow the horse to stand without some hold upon him; if there is no post, the reins must be held firmly in one hand, while the other assists the lady. no gentleman will _show off_ his driving, if he finds his companion timid. he will adopt the pace most agreeable to her, even if it condemns him to a funeral slowness. it is courtesy for the owner of a wagon, when driving a gentleman friend, to offer him the reins, but the offer should never be accepted. if, when driving a long distance, with a hard-mouthed horse, the companion can really relieve a tired driver, it is then both courteous and kind to offer to take the reins for a time; but it is not etiquette so to offer under any other circumstances. if you offer a seat in a private carriage to any friends you may meet whilst abroad, you must accompany them to their destination, no matter how far it may be out of your own way. for a gentleman, when driving with a lady, to put his arm across the back of the seat, around her, is a piece of impertinence which any well-bred lady will very justly resent. if offered a seat in the carriage of a gentleman friend, you should motion him to be seated first; but if he stands aside for you, bow, and precede him. after assisting a lady to her seat, be certain that her parasol, shawl, and fan are all conveniently placed for her use before you take your own seat. allow her all the space you can, and be especially careful that the motion of your arms does not incommode her. if a lady wishes to leave a carriage, and the gentleman remains in it to wait her return, he must alight to assist her out, and also when she enters it again, even if he resumes his seat during her absence. it is a graceful act to leave a carriage in the proper manner. in england, young ladies are instructed in the manner of entering and leaving a carriage. m. mercy d'argenteau, an ambassador of the last century, tells an anecdote illustrative of the importance of this. he says: "the princess of hesse-darmstadt having been desired by the empress of austria to bring her three daughters to court, in order that her imperial majesty might choose one of them for a wife to one of her sons, drove up in her coach to the palace gate. "scarcely had they entered the presence, when, before even speaking to them, the empress went up to the second daughter, and, taking her by the hand, said: 'i choose this young lady.' "the mother, astonished at the suddenness of her choice, inquired what had actuated her. "'i watched the young ladies get out of their carriage,' said the empress. 'your eldest daughter stepped on her dress, and only saved herself from falling by an awkward scramble; the youngest jumped from the coach to the ground, without touching the steps; the second, just lifting her dress in front, so as she descended to show the point of her shoe, calmly stepped from the carriage to the ground, neither hurriedly nor stiffly, but with grace and dignity. she is fit to be an empress. her eldest sister is too awkward; her youngest, too wild.'" riding and driving are accomplishments in which it is very desirable for all ladies and gentlemen to be proficient. to ride well, one must be taught early, and have practice. like swimming, riding cannot be learned from theoretical teaching. lord herbert, of cherbury, says: "a good rider, on a good horse, is as much above himself and others as the world can make him." travelling. there are many little points of etiquette and courteous observances which, if attended to, serve very materially to lighten the tedium and fatigue of travel, the non-observance of them being at tended with proportionally disagreeable effects. no situation can be named where the difference between the well-bred and ill-bred of either sex is more marked than when they are upon a journey; and in this country, where all classes are thrown into contact in the various public conveyances, the annoyance of rude company can scarcely be exaggerated. the duties of an escort to a lady are manifold and various, and the true lady will make them as light as possible, striving, by her own deportment and agreeable conversation, to compensate her gentleman friend for the trouble she may occasion him. to weary him constantly by complaints of the heat, dust, or flies; to worry for half an hour over some unavoidable mishap or annoyance; to lose or miss some part of her hand-baggage every five minutes; forcing him to rise and search for what she eventually finds in her own pocket; to inquire every few moments, "where are we now? what time is it? are we nearly at our journey's end?" to delay him, when the train or boat does stop, for arrangements that should have been made ten minutes before; to fidget about her baggage; or to find constant fault with what he cannot control, are all faults in which lady travellers are prone to indulge, but which all mark low breeding, founded upon intense selfishness. good-nature, perfect courtesy, patience, punctuality, and an easy adaptation to perhaps untoward circumstances mark the perfect lady in travelling. when you see a lady, detained perhaps for hours by a snow-storm, pleasantly trying to beguile the time by conversation, relieving tired mothers, perhaps, of the care of fretful children, jesting pleasantly upon the unpleasant delay, and uttering no complaint or impatient word, even if half frozen or in utter discomfort, you may be certain you see a perfectly well-bred lady in every sense of the words. no lady should ever allow her escort to enter with her any saloon devoted exclusively to the use of ladies. because he may be her own husband, son, father, or brother does not excuse her, as he cannot stand in such relation to others present. if a lady in a car or stage finds the exertion of talking tiresome or painful, she may say so frankly, and no gentleman must take offence. weak lungs may be really injured by the effort made to be heard above the noise of a locomotive or wheels. in travelling alone, a lady should speak to the conductor on a train, or, in a long steamer passage, introduce herself to the captain, explaining her unprotected situation, and they are bound to extend every courtesy in their power. it is better for a lady so travelling to wait until the rush of passengers is over before quitting a train or boat, and then, if not waiting to meet any one, leave the station. a lady travelling alone may, with perfect propriety, accept courtesy from strange gentlemen, such as raising or lowering a window, the offer of a hand across a slippery plank, or any such attention, being careful always to thank him politely for the same, and in a tone that will not encourage conversation or further advances. any apology made during a journey for accidental crushing, crowding, reaching over the seat, or the like, must be accepted, a silent but courteous bow being the best acknowledgment of the politeness dictating such apology. a gentleman, on entering a public carriage or omnibus, must never step before a lady, but stand aside until she enters, raising the hat slightly if she acknowledges his courtesy, as a true lady will, by a bow. he may offer to assist her if she appears to need it, even if she is a perfect stranger to him. if a gentleman consents to act as escort to a lady, he must carefully fulfill all the requirements of that rather arduous position. if she meets him at a wharf or depot, he must be a little before the hour for starting, to procure her ticket, check her baggage, and secure for her a pleasant seat. he must never leave her to stand in an office or upon a wharf whilst he attends to her tickets and baggage; but, having seen her comfortably seated in a ladies' room or cabin, return for those duties. in arriving at a station, he must see her seated in a hack before he attends to the trunks. in a hotel, the gentleman must escort the lady to the parlor before securing her room, but not detain her afterwards. however agreeable she may be, he may be certain she is longing to rest after her journey, and remove the travel stains from her face and dress. he must at once escort her to her room, ascertain what hour it will be agreeable for her take the next meal, and meet her again in the parlor at that hour. he must not leave her upon arriving at the journey's end until he has escorted her to the house, and if he remains in the city, he must call the next day to inquire after her health. after that, the lady may continue the acquaintance or not, as she pleases; but if she declines to do so, by nonrecognition at the next meeting, he is at liberty to decline acting in the capacity of escort to her again. a gentleman who is travelling alone may offer little courtesies to strangers, and even to ladies, carefully maintaining a respectful manner, that may assure them they need not fear to encourage impertinence by accepting the proferred civilities. in travelling abroad, the truest courtesy is to observe as far as practicable every national prejudice. the old proverb, to "do in rome as romans do," is the best rule of etiquette in foreign travel. the man who affects a supercilious disdain for all foreign customs and forms will not convince the natives of his vast superiority, but impress them with the belief that he is an ill- bred idiot. the most polite, as well as agreeable travellers are those who will smilingly devour mouse-pie and bird's-nest soup in china, dine contentedly upon horse-steak in paris, swallow their beef uncooked in germany, maintain an unwinking gravity over the hottest curry in india, smoke their hookah gratefully in turkey, mount an elephant in ceylon, and, in short, conform gracefully to any native custom, however strange it may appear to him. "comparisons are odious," and to be continually asserting that everything in the united states is vastly superior to everything abroad is a mark of vulgarity. if you really think there is nothing to be seen abroad as good as you have at home, why, you are foolish not to stay at home and enjoy the best. a lady may, under certain circumstances, as, if she be a married lady, and not too young, begin a conversation with a strange gentlemen; but he must not, under any circumstances, begin a conversation with her. an unmarried lady, unless advanced in life, is not supposed to begin conversation with a strange gentleman. when a lady, travelling alone, wishes to descend from a railway car, it is the duty of the gentleman nearest the door to assist her in alighting, even if he resumes his seat again. he may offer to collect her baggage, call a hack, or perform any service her escort would have attended to. if a train stop for refreshments, a gentleman may, with perfect propriety, offer to escort a strange lady, who is alone, to the refreshment-room, or to bring to her any refreshments she may desire. if she accepts his offer, he must see that she is served with all that she desires before attending to his own wants. a lady may always accept such an offer of attention, thanking the gentleman for his politeness, and dismissing him by a courteous bow, which he must accept as an intimation that his services are no longer required. smoking in the presence of ladies is uncourteous, even if there is no law against it in the car, stage, or boat. some smokers, of more inveterate weakness in the direction of tobacco than of strength in politeness, make a parade of asking the permission of any lady who may be present; but this is hardly enough. a lady will not like to refuse, although she may dislike the smoke, and she ought not to be put to her election between two alternatives almost equally disagreeable. if gentlemen only are present, the question should be put to each and every one of them whether they have any objection to smoking in their presence. one dissentient voice should carry the day; for no gentleman has a right to insist upon his own special gratification if it will cause annoyance and discomfort to others present. should there be no objection on the part of the entire party, the gentleman who first strikes his fusee should offer it to any others near him about to indulge also before he uses it himself. as regards the right to have the window up or down, the person who sits facing the the engine has the command. ladies, being present, should, of course, be consulted, no matter on which side they may be sitting, and their wish must be considered a final settlement of the question. if a gentleman have any newspapers, he must offer them first to his travelling companions. if refused, he may use them himself, thus leaving them free to read also if they so desire. etiquette in church. in visiting a church in which you have no pew of your own, wait in the vestibule until the sexton comes to you, and request him to show you to a seat. it is extremely rude to enter a pew without invitation if it is partially filled, or without permission if it is empty. always enter a church slowly and reverentially. a gentleman must remove his hat at the door, and never replace it until he is again in the vestibule. conform strictly to the forms of worship. if you are not familiar with them, rise, kneel, and sit as you see others do. never whisper to a companion in church. never make any noise with your feet or fingers. never stare round the building. never bow to any friend while in the church itself. greetings may be exchanged in the vestibule after service. a gentleman accompanying a lady to a roman catholic church, even if himself a protestant, may offer her the holy water, and it must be with an ungloved hand. gentlemen must pass up the aisle beside their lady companions until they reach the pew, then advance a few steps, open the door, and stand aside until she has entered, then enter, and close the door again. it is a bad plan to leave the hat outside, as it is liable to be swept down the aisle by the skirts of ladies passing. if there is not room for it on the seat, it can be put upon the floor inside the pew. never pay any attention to those around you, even if they are noisy or rude. if you pass a book or a fan to a person in the same pew, or accept the same attention, it is not necessary to speak. a silent bow is all that etiquette requires. if you have room in your own pew, and sea a stranger enter, open the door and motion him to enter. it is not necessary to speak. you may find the place and point it out to a stranger, who is unfamiliar with the service; but do so silently. a lady should never remove her gloves in church, unless to use the holy water, or the right-hand glove at communion. to come late to church is not only ill-bred, but disrespectful. it is equally so to hurry away, or to commence preparations for departure, closing and putting away the books, and such preparations, before the service closes. never keep any one waiting if you are invited or have invited them to go to church. when visiting a church abroad, not to attend divine service, but to see the edifice, choose an hour when there is no service. if you find worshippers, however, are present, move quietly, speak low, and endeavor not to disturb their devotions. the godmother at a christening must accompany the family of her little godchild to and from the church, and should send her gift (usually a silver cup) the day before. in attending a funeral not in your own family, never leave the pew until the mourners have passed into the aisle; but rise and stand while they pass, falling into your proper place as the procession passes you. it is ill-bred for gentlemen to congregate in the vestibule of a church and there chat familiarly, often commenting audibly upon the service or the congregation. no true lady likes to run this gauntlet, although in this country they are too often obliged to do so. to show any disrespect to a form of worship that may be new or strange to you is rude in the extreme. if you find it trying to your own religious convictions, you need not again visit churches of the same denomination; but to sneer at a form, while in the church using that form, is insulting and low-bred. etiquette for places of amusement. a gentleman who wishes to invite a young lady, who is not related to him, to visit any place of public amusement with him, must, the first time that he invites her, also invite another lady of the same family to accompany her. no young lady should visit public places of amusement with a gentleman with whom she is but slightly acquainted, alone. it is a gentleman's duty to invite a lady long enough before the evening of the performance to be certain of securing pleasant seats, as it is but a poor compliment to take her where she will be uncomfortable, or where she can neither hear nor see. although a carriage may not be necessary on account of the weather, it is a more elegant way of paying attention to a lady to provide one. never assume an air of secrecy or mystery in a public place; and even if you have the right to do so, assume no lover-like airs. it is rude to converse loudly, especially during the performance; but a low tone is all that is necessary; not a whisper. to appear to comment aside upon those near you is extremely ill- bred. a lady is not expected to bow to a friend across a theatre or concert-room; but a gentleman may recognize his lady friends. a lady must answer a note of invitation to visit a place of public amusement as soon as possible, as, by delay, she may keep her gentleman friend in doubt, and deprive him of the pleasure of inviting another friend if she declines. it is ill-bred to arrive late at any public entertainment, and looks as if you were not sufficiently master of your own time to be punctual. in a theatre, give your attention entirely to the stage when the curtain is up; to your companion when it is down. it looks badly to see a lady staring round the house with an opera-glass. never is a modest dignity more becoming than in a theatre. to indulge in extravagant gesture, laugh boisterously, flirt a fan conspicuously, toy with an eye-glass or opera-glass, indulge in lounging attitudes, whisper aside, are all unlady-like in the extreme. if you speak to your companion during the performance, do so in a low tone, that you may not disturb those who are near you, and wish to hear the actors. in entering a concert-room or tile box of a theatre, a gentleman should precede a lady, if there is not room to walk beside her, until they reach the seats, then hand her to the inner one, taking the outside one himself. in going out, if he cannot offer her his arm, he must again walk before her, until he reaches the lobby, and then offer her his arm. boisterous applause and loud laughter are ungentlemanly. it is in bad taste to distract your companion's interest from the performance, even if you find it dull yourself. no gentleman should leave a lady alone for a moment in a public place of amusement. he may subject her to annoyance, or he may find another lady in his seat when he returns, which would separate him from his companion until the close of the performance; for, although a gentleman when alone should offer his seat to a lady or old gentleman who cannot procure one, he is not expected to do so when escorting a lady. his place is then that of protector to his charge, and he must not relinquish it for a moment. secure a libretto, or programme, before taking your seat, that you may not be obliged to rise to get one. at the opera, conversation during the performance is in the worst taste. the lowest tone will disturb the real lovers of music. exclamations of "lovely!" "exquisite!" "how sweet!" and others, are all proofs of vulgarity. if you promenade at a concert or between the acts at a theatre, you may bow to friends the first time you pass them only. a lady must not allow other gentlemen to join her, if she would not offend her escort, and no gentleman will stop a lady to speak to her. a conversation of a moment or two is all that is allowable in such meetings. if seats are secured, it is best to arrive about five minutes before the commencement of a performance; but if a gentleman is escorting a lady to an entertainment where seats cannot be secured, he should call for her at an early hour, that she may get a good place. in a picture-gallery, never stand conversing before the paintings in such a way as to interrupt the view of others. if you wish to converse, stand aside or take seats and do so. a gentleman alone may join lady friends for a few moments between the acts at a theatre, or in the intermission at a concert, but only for a few moments, as their escort has a prior claim upon their attention. it is an act of rudeness to join any party about to visit a place of amusement, or at one, unless urgently invited, and no one of taste will ever form a third. if two or three ladies are in the party and but one gentleman, another gentleman, if well acquainted, may offer his services as escort to one of the ladies, and if not allowed to share the expenses, should invite the party to partake of refreshments after the performance is over. always enter a concert-hall or lecture-room as quietly as possible never push violently through a crowd at a public place. a lady will always find room made for her if she requests it, or if it is requested by her escort. after escorting a lady to a place of amusement, a gentleman may ask permission to call the following morning or evening, and the lady must be at home to receive that call. she should take that opportunity to thank him for the pleasure she has enjoyed, and find some warm words of praise for the performance. to severely criticize on such an occasion is rude to the escort, who has intended to give pleasure, and the performance must be bad indeed where nothing can be found to merit a word of praise. in visiting a fancy fair, too many persons act as if they were in a store, cheapening the articles offered for sale, and being careless about their criticisms and remarks. it is impossible to tell who may be wounded by such conduct. the very lady who offers you an article you pronounce "absolutely hideous" may have spent hours in its manufacture, and feel proportionately hurt at your remarks. courtesy and words of praise are never more appreciated than by those who have spent weary hours in preparing for this most troublesome of all charities. on the other hand, the position of a lady at the table of a fancy fair is necessarily an exposed one, and requires a great amount of modest dignity to support it. flirting, loud talking, importunate entreaties to unwilling friends to buy your goods, are all in bad taste; and it is equally bad to leave your place every few moments to visit the refreshment-table in company with your gentlemen friends. we heard a lady boast once that she had been seventeen times in one day to the refreshment-table "for the good of the fair," and we could not but think the cause might have been aided without quite such a display of gastronomic energy. no true lady will follow friends all around the room offering goods for sale, nor force articles on reluctant purchasers by appealing to their gallantry. in entering a fancy fair where many ladies are present, strict etiquette requires a gentleman to remove his hat, and carry it whilst in the room, but it is a rule much neglected. it is rude for a lady to take advantage of the rule which prevents a gentleman from asking for change at a fair. if he says, in presenting a larger amount than the purchased article calls for, "pray accept the balance for the object for which you are working," she may, of course, place the gift in her cash-box; otherwise it is more lady-like to give back the change. servants. it would be difficult to express the sense of etiquette on this subject better than by quoting lord chesterfield's words: "i am more upon my guard," he writes, "as to my behavior to my servants and to others who are called my inferiors than i am towards my equals, for fear of being suspected of that mean and ungenerous sentiment of desiring to make others feel that difference which fortune has, and perhaps too undeservedly, made between us." conduct towards servants should be always equal, never violent, never familiar. speak to them always with civility, but keep them in their proper places. give no occasion for them to complain of you; but never suffer yourself to complain of them without first ascertaining that your complaint is just, seeing that it has attention, and that the fault complained of is remedied. beware of giving servants the inch; there is no class so prone, under such circumstances, to take the ell. if staying in a friend's house, you may assume, to a certain extent, that your friend's servants are your servants. but this must be only so far as you are yourself concerned. you must not, on any account, give directions respecting the general conduct of the _menage_. for all your own personal wants, however, you are free to command their services. ask for anything, under their control, that may be lacking in your own room; for whatever you need at meal times; let them call you in the morning if you sleep soundly; do not send them on errands, however, without first ascertaining that it will not interfere with their regular routine of household duty; but do anything and everything required for your own personal convenience and comfort through the servants. it is contrary to all laws of etiquette to trouble your host or hostess with all your petty wants. never apologize for the trouble you give them; but if you should, through illness or other cause, occasion more work than a visitor ordinarily brings to a household, let the gift, which, in any case, you would make to the servants on leaving the house, be somewhat heavier than would otherwise have been necessary. this question of fees to servants is a very important one. many people are disposed to regard it as an imposition which is tolerated only through the force of custom. others view it in the light of paying for an extra burden, which their presence has laid upon the servant's shoulders. the latter view, if not entirely the correct one, is, at least, as reasonable as the former, and a generous nature will probably adopt it. the opposition will say, "but all cannot afford to make these presents," and "the servants are hired on the express understanding that they will have to serve their employer's guests, as part of the work they are engaged to do." there is something in this; but, on the other hand, it might be asked, "do any of you who complain of having to make these involuntary gifts for extra service on the part of the servants, rest satisfied in your own mind when your profession, business, or the service from which you draw your source of living, requires extra exertions from you? you are, perhaps, the manager of the greatest bank that ever was opened, or the director of the largest department under the control of the state. do you not, when anything more than usual is required of you, look for, if you do not get, extra remuneration, in the shape of promotion, money, or testimonials? i am sure you do, if you would speak honestly, and, if so, how can you suppose servants should expect otherwise? whether they get all they look for, or think they ought to have, is a separate affair. perhaps you, too, do not get all you deem yourself to merit. the system of fees is, no doubt, like all other human institutions, liable to considerable abuse. at one time it was considered beneath the dignity of a gentleman to give anything but gold, and whilst that superstition prevailed, it must doubtless have pressed very hard upon poor people, to whom to go into society was to be ruinously fined, without the privilege of appeal. even at the present day, there are certain classes of servants who are "as death, and cannot be satisfied," unless their "'itching palms" are heavily laden with their fee; but they are but rarely approached by poorer people." with regard to the amount of fees to servants in a household, it is not possible to lay down any precise rule. much must depend on the length of the visit, the position of the master of the house, and the position in which you are supposed to stand toward him; and on each of these points you must exercise your own discretion, and consult your own means or generosity. gentlemen give fees to the men servants only, as a general rule, and ladies give to the female servants only; and though the strict observance of this rule may seem at times to work injustice, it is better to adhere to it than to mar the comfort and position of those who come after you, and who may not have the means of being liberal over and above the prescribed standard. under no circumstances is a lady called upon by the rules of etiquette to give fees to men servants; the lady's-maid and the housemaid are the only ones she is expected to remember; but if a gentleman visit where only female servants are employed, he should make them a present on his departure. feeing the servants in a hotel is open to many objections, as it is apt to influence them unduly in second or third arrivals at the same house; but it is a custom so fixed that it has become second nature to them to look for it. it is certainly a person's own fault if he submits to being fleeced by the servants ill a hotel. attendance is certainly included in the high prices charged, yet the custom prevails in spite of it, and those who do not comply with it will soon find the difference, although there may be nothing sufficiently impertinent or negligent for positive complaint. fees to railway porters and others are certainly not required by the rules of etiquette to be paid. the payment of them is indeed forbidden by many of the railway companies; but the receiving of them is winked at, the result being that travellers who want attendance are, for the most part, obliged to pay for it. the system is, however, a pernicious one, and travellers should discourage it as much as possible, if only for the sake of those who cannot afford to sustain it. "i am sorry," said a gentleman to a porter (need we say an irishman?) who had looked after a number of parcels, and stowed them conveniently away in the car, "that the regulations of the company do not allow me to give you a shilling." "if your honor," replied the porter, with a grin, "were to lose _two_, i should know where to find them." at a dinner party, an evening company, a ball, or like occasions, it is customary, on coming away, to give a trifle, the gentleman to the waiter who hands him his hat, etc., the lady to the attendant in the dressing-room; but you are not called upon to remember every servant in attendance. there is a story told of an old english gentleman, rich enough to be above the suggestion of poverty, and notoriously liberal enough to be above the imputation of meanness, who, being at a dinner party, was presented by one servant with his hat. to this man he gave a shilling. another advanced, and helped him into his coat, and to him the old gentleman also gave a shilling. a third gave him his cane, and received in exchange a shilling; but when a fourth approached, bearing his gloves, the old gentleman gazed upon him for a moment, and then said, quietly: "you may keep them, my good man; it'll be cheaper for me than to receive them," and then walked out. this was, however, an abuse of advantage on the part of the servants, which, if repeated, others would do well to rebuke in a similar manner. an english writer on this subject gives some hints that would be equally conducive to regularity and comfort if adopted in this country, saying: "there is no question but that we should seek to perform all our duties without hope of recompense; and yet, as regards our treatment of servants, we should be especially careful that, in endeavoring to make their bodily comfort and mental improvement an object of consideration, we do not allow ourselves to dwell upon the hope of gratitude or affection from them in return. many have done so, and having, with that view, been tempted to accord unwise indulgences and to overlook serious faults, they have found that, far from gaining the love of their servants, they have incurred their contempt; and when they have perceived that their favors, unappreciated, have led but to new encroachments, they have hardened their hearts, and rushed into an opposite extreme. then they have considered their servants as mere machines, from which labor must be extorted by all available means. "a man-servant is rarely grateful, and seldom attached. he is generally incapable of appreciating those advantages which, with your cultivated judgment, you know to be most conducive to his welfare. do you accord to him regular hours, and a stated allowance of work; do you refrain from sending him out because it is wet, and he is unwell; do you serve yourself rather than ring for him at dinner time, he will rarely have the grace to thank you in his heart for your constant consideration. hear him. he will thus describe a comfortable place:' there were very few in the family; when they went out of a night, we made it up in the morning; we had nice hot suppers, and the cook made a good hash for breakfast, and we always get luncheon between that and dinner; and we were all very comfortable together, and had a friend in when we liked. master swore at us sometimes, but often made us a present for it when he had been very violent; a good-hearted man as ever lived, and mistress was quite the lady, and never meddled with servants. it was a capital place.' "servants' sympathies are with their equals. they feel for a poor servant run off his legs, and moped to death; they have no feeling for a painstaking mistress, economical both from principle and scanty means; they would (most of them) see her property wasted, and her confidence abused without compunction. it is the last effort of virtue in a servant if, without any _private reason_, he should discharge his duty by informing you of the injury which you are enduring at the hands of his fellow-servant. it is an effort of virtue; for it will bring down many a bitter taunt and hard word upon his faithful head. "'i never got a servant out of a place by telling tales on him,' will be said to him. directly a servant departs, we all know, tongues tied before are loosened to gain our favor by apparent candor. when it can avail us nothing, we are told. we all know this, and have said:'be silent now; you should have mentioned this to me at the time it occurred.'" supposing, then, you have the _rara avis_, the servant that 'speaks at the time,' be chary of him--or let me say _her_ (the best servants are women). oh! as you value her, let her not suppose you cannot part with her. treat her with confidence, but with strict impartiality; reprove where necessary, mildly, but decidedly, lest she should presume (power is so tempting), and compel you, if you would retain your freedom, to let her go. there is one thing a man-servant values beyond all that your kindness and consideration can do for him--his liberty; liberty to eat, drink, and be merry, with your things, in the company of his own friends; liberty to get the housemaid to clean his candlesticks and bring up his coals; and the housemaid wishes for liberty to lie in bed in the morning, because she was up so late talking to john in the pantry; liberty to wear flounces and flowers. the cook desires liberty too. for this liberty, if you grant it, they will despise you; if you deny it, they will respect you. aim at their esteem; despair of their love or gratitude; make your place what the best class of servants will value, and, though in their heart they may not thank you for it, you will gain, perhaps, one servant out of twenty who will keep gross imposition and gross immorality at bay. "these remarks can never be intended to deny the warm attachment of female servants to the children of their employers. deep love, no doubt, is lavished by many a woman on the babe she has nursed. there is a great deal to be said on the chapter of nurses; which would require to be dealt with by itself. much wisdom is required in the administration of a nursery, to which but few general rules would apply. cruel is the tyranny the nurse frequently practises on the parent, who often refrains from entering her nursery, not from want of love for her children, but positive dread of the sour looks which greet her. let her be firm; let no shrinking from grieving her darling, who would 'break his heart if his nana went,' deter her from discharging the encroaching servant. "on the choice of servants much of the comfort of the young housekeeper depends. it often happens that her choice has been determined by appearance rather than the value of character. if such be the case, she will have many difficulties to encounter. it is, in the present day, hardly safe to take a servant if there be a single objection to character, however it may be glossed over by the person referred to on this point; for there is now an unhealthy disposition to pass over the failings of servants who have left their places, and to make them perfect in the eyes of others. in respect to sobriety, many people will not acknowledge that a servant had had the vice of drinking, but will cover the unpleasant truth with such gentle and plausible terms that it becomes difficult to comprehend how far the hint is grounded, or not. be assured when a lady or gentleman hesitates on this point, or on that of honesty, it is wiser not to engage a servant. nor are you deviating from christian charity in not overlooking a dereliction of so material a sort. the kindest plan to the vast community of domestic servants is to be rigid in all important points, and, having, after a due experience, a just confidence in them, to be somewhat more indulgent to errors of a more trivial nature. "it is always desirable to have, if possible, servants of one faith but if it so happens that you have a roman catholic servant and a protestant in your service, you are bound to allow each the free exercise of her religion, and you ought not to respect them if, out of interest, they will conform to yours. an exercise of authority on this point amounts, in my opinion, to an act of tyranny, and it can only tend to promote insincerity, and, perhaps, engender skepticism in its object. nothing is, indeed, so dangerous as to unsettle the faith of the lower classes, who have neither time nor opportunity of fairly considering subjects of religious controversy. "while on the subject of servants, i must deprecate the over indulgence of the present system towards them. formerly they were treated with real kindness; but it was the kindness that exacted duty in return, and took a real interest in the welfare of each servant. the reciprocal tie in former times between servant and master was strong; now it is wholly gone. the easy rule of masters and mistresses proceeds far more from indifference than from kindness of heart; for the real charity is to keep servants steadily to their duties. they are a class of persons to whom much leisure is destruction; the pursuits of their idle hours are seldom advantageous to them, and theirs are not minds, generally, which can thrive in repose. idleness, to them, is peculiarly the root of all evil; for if their time is not spent in vicious amusements, it is often passed in scandal, discontent, and vanity. in writing thus, i do not recommend a hard or inconsiderate system to servants. they require, and in many instances they merit, all that can be done to alleviate a situation of servitude. they ought not to be the slaves of caprice or the victims of temper. their work should be measured out with a just hand; but it should be regularly exacted in as much perfection as can be expected in variable and erring human nature. "another point on which i would recommend firmness is that of early hours. in this respect, example is as important as precept; but, however uncertain you may be yourself, i would not relax a rule of this kind; for every comfort during the day depends on the early rising of your servants. without this, all their several departments are hurried through or neglected in some important respect. "your mode of address to servants must be decisive, yet mild. the authoritative tone i do not recommend. it is very unbecoming to any young person, and it rarely attains the end desired; but there is a quiet dignity of deportment which few servants ever can resist. this should be tempered with kindness, when circumstances call it forth, but should never descend to familiarity; for no caution is more truly kind than that which confines servants strictly to their own sphere. "much evil results from the tendency, more especially of the very young or of very old mistresses of families, to partiality. commonly, one servant becomes the almost avowed favorite; and it is difficult to say whether that display of partiality is the more pernicious to the servant who is the object of it, or to the rankling and jealous minds of the rest of the household. it is true that it is quite impossible to avoid entertaining a greater degree of confidence in some servants than in others; but it should be shown with a due regard to the feelings of all. it is, of course, allowable towards those who take a decidedly responsible and confidential situation in a household. still, never let such persons assume the reins of government; let them act the part of helmsmen to the vessel, but not aspire to the control of the captain. "it is generally wise and right, after a due experience of the principles and intentions of servants, to place confidence in their honesty, and to let them have the comfort of knowing that you do so. at the same time, never cease to exercise a system of supervision. the great principle of housekeeping is regularity, and without this (one of the most difficult of the minor virtues to practise), all efforts to promote order must be ineffectual. i have seen energetic women, clever and well-intentioned, fail in attaining a good method, owing to their being uncertain in hours, governed by impulse, and capricious. i have seen women, inferior in capacity, slow, and apathetic, make excellent heads of families, as far as their household was concerned, from their steadiness and regularity. their very power of enduring monotony has been favorable to their success in this way, especially if they are not called upon to act in peculiar and difficult cases, in which their actual inferiority is traceable. but these are not the ordinary circumstances of life." in this country, servants are proverbially more troublesome than in europe, where service is often transmitted through generations in one family. here, the housekeeper is obliged to change often, taking frequently the most ignorant of the lower classes of foreigners to train into good and useful servants, only to have them become dissatisfied as soon as they become acquainted with others, who instill the republican doctrine of perfect equality into their minds, ruining them for good servants. there are some points of etiquette, however, upon which every lady should insist: never allow a servant to keep people waiting upon the door step. never allow servants to treat any one disrespectfully. never allow servants to turn their own proper duties over to the children or other servants by a bribe. many fond parents would be amazed if they knew how much running and actual work was performed by little nellie or charlie, and how many fits of mysterious indigestion were caused by the rich cake, candy, or half-ripe fruit that paid for the service and bribed the silence. never allow a servant to keep a visitor standing parleying on the door-step, while she holds the door ajar. train the door-servant to admit any caller promptly, show them to the parlor, bring up their cards at once, and return with your answer or message. there are two occasions in a man's lifetime when may he make his account with liberality to servants, whether he will or whether he will not. these two are the occasions of his marriage and his funeral. on his marriage, the bridegroom is expected to make presents to all the servants of his father-in-law or mother-in-law, rather according to their expectations than according to his means. to old servants, who have been attached to the bride, the bridegroom will naturally wish to give some token of the value he sets upon their devotion. new dresses, new shawls, money, or a handsome equivalent of it, are expected. money is usually given to the other servants; the amounts must, of course, depend, in a great degree, upon the means of the bridegroom; but he must be prepared for a heavy outlay on the occasion, if the servants be numerous. hotel etiquette. let us start this chapter by saying that no word of it is addressed to the sterner sex, who will find hints for their etiquette under the head of "travelling;" but it is for the especial guidance of ladies, many of whom in this independent country travel without escort. when a lady arrives alone at a hotel, she should, if possible, be provided with a letter of introduction to the proprietor; she should send for him immediately upon her arrival, present her letter, or her card, and mention the time for which she desires to secure a room. in going to meals, a lady should request one of the waiters to meet her at the dining-room door, and escort her to the table, saving her the awkwardness of crossing the room alone, and showing others that she is a regular resident in the house. she may keep the services of this waiter at table during her stay, and should give him a present of money before leaving. in giving an order at a public table, a lady should decide quickly what dishes she desires, and order them in a low but distinct tone. no lady will stare round the room, fidget with her napkin, plate, knife, or fork, play with the salt, or exhibit any awkward embarrassment, while waiting for a meal to be served. it is allowable to look over a newspaper in the interval at breakfast; but the habit, quite common, of carrying a novel to the table is not lady-like. if a lady accepts any civility from a gentleman at the same table, such as placing butter, sugar, or water nearer to her plate, she must thank him; but by no means start a conversation with him. if a lady have friends at the table, she may converse in a low, quiet tone; but any loud tone, laughing extravagantly, or gesticulations, are exceedingly ill-bred. to comment upon others present, either aloud or in a whisper, is extremely rude. a lady must never point to any dish she wishes passed to her. if she cannot call it by name, a well-trained waiter will know her wishes if she looks at the dish. any bold action or boisterous deportment in a hotel will expose a lady to the most severe censure of the refined around her, and may render her liable to misconstruction, and impertinence. greetings offered by other ladies at the table, or in the parlor, should not be too hastily checked, as the acquaintance so formed is never required by etiquette to be recognized elsewhere. a lady alone at a hotel should wear the most modest and least conspicuous dress appropriate to the hour of the day. full dress must not be worn unless she has an escort present. a lady should never go alone to the supper-table after ten o'clock. if she returns from an entertainment at a later hour, and has no escort to supper, she should have that meal sent to her room. a lady should carefully lock her trunks before leaving her room at a hotel, and should give her purse and jewelry into the care of the proprietor on her arrival, ringing for them if she requires them during her stay. no lady should open a window in a hotel parlor, if there are other ladies near it, without first ascertaining that it will not inconvenience them. no lady should use the piano of a hotel uninvited if there are others in the room. it looks bold and forward to display even the most finished musical education in this way. it is still worse to sing. a lady should never go herself to the door of a hotel to call a hack. ring for a servant to perform this office, and he will bring the hack to the ladies' entrance. no lady should stand or linger in the halls of a hotel, but pass through them quietly, never stopping alone for a moment. no lady should stand alone at the front windows of a hotel parlor, nor may she walk out on the porch, or, indeed, any conspicuous place. a lady is not expected to recognize her friends across the parlor or dining-room of a hotel. no scolding of servants is permissible in a hotel. if they are negligent or disrespectful, complain to the housekeeper or landlord; it is their business to keep the domestics in order, not that of their guests. for a lady to go up the stairs of a hotel singing is ill-bred, and may expose her to rudeness. it is a breach of etiquette to take any newspaper, book, or music you may find in a hotel parlor to your own room, even if you return it. lolling or lounging in a public parlor can never be permitted to a lady. it is a breach of etiquette for a lady to touch her baggage in a hotel after it is packed. there are plenty of servants to attend to it, and they should carry to the hack even the travelling- shawl, satchel, and railway novel. nothing looks more awkward than to see a lady, with both hands full, stumbling up the steps of a hotel hack. no lady must ever pass in or out at the public entrance of a hotel. there is always an entrance for ladies especially, and it is bold and unbecoming for them to be seen in the one appropriated to gentlemen. a gentleman who will escort a lady through the public entrance shows a lamentable ignorance of the usages of hotel life. wedding etiquette. to those who require to be taught how they may express themselves in those delicate negotiations which precede the question of marriage, this little book is not addressed. it is not proposed to introduce form and ceremony into that which should spring purely and spontaneously from the heart, and which should be the most natural expression of a most natural feeling, in connection with which etiquette would be simply a mockery. etiquette, being only a system devised and found convenient for the social rule and guidance of the many, cannot by any possibility be applied to the conduct of two who may reasonably be supposed to be acquainted with each other's sentiments before they begin to speak about them. if they are not so acquainted, all the etiquette in the world cannot help them, nor preserve them from making what may be a blunder of the most awkward kind. there are people who profess to teach how and in what terms an offer of marriage should be made, whether by letter or by mouth, and, in either case, what should be said. i pretend to no such knowledge, believing that if the heart cannot suggest the way and the words, nothing else can do so. yet, the wiser way, usually, is in speech. letters are seldom expressive of what really passes in the mind of a man; or, if expressive, seem foolish, since deep feelings are liable to exaggeration. every written word may be the theme of cavil. study, care, which avail in every other species of composition, are death to the lover's effusion. a few sentences, spoken in earnest, and broken by emotion, are more eloquent than pages of sentiment, both to parents and daughter. the place of etiquette, the social law which regulates the conduct of engaged people towards others, and of other people towards them, is immediately after the announcement of the engagement; then there is scope for the display of good manners and good breeding, and there are certain rules which must be observed. some members of the gentleman's family, his nearest relations, should call upon the family of the lady, and they should return the call as soon as possible. it is by no means necessary that the two families should be intimate; there may be good and sufficient reasons why they should not be so; all that is necessary is the show of civility, which is included in the interchange of visits. if the family of the gentleman does not reside in the same city as that of the lady, the announcement of the engagement should be followed by letters from his parents or nearest relatives to the young lady herself or her parents. kindly and cordial feeling should be the prevailing tone of such letters, and they must be answered at once. though it is often true that the gentleman who aspires to love one member of a family must make his account in loving all the rest in some degree, there is no necessity for such a display of amiability on the part of the lady. it is customary for the gentleman to make some present to his fiancee soon after the engagement. the most elegant and desirable present is a handsome ring, "the engagement ring," which should be either of diamonds or pearls. the lady sometimes returns a similar ring, or the gentleman has two made exactly similar, each of the betrothed wearing one. the first present must be made by the gentleman. it is very proper for this first present to be followed by gifts upon appointed days, as birthdays, christmas, or new year's day, and the lady is at perfect liberty to return the compliment. it is considered more elegant for the gentleman to offer jewelry, the lady some gift which is the work of her own hands, as a handsome pair of embroidered slippers, a handkerchief with richly embroidered monograms, a cigar-case embroidered, or some similar gift. when once the engagement is allowed, it is the custom to admit the gentleman into the intimate society of his newly-adopted relatives; he is looked upon as something more than a potential member of the family; he is implicitly trusted in every way. it is a gross breach of good manners to omit the gentleman from any invitation in which his fiancee is included, and there are not many young ladies who would consent to accept such an invitation. there is, however, no rule of etiquette forbidding an engaged lady to do so, if she so desires. in return for the membership which is accorded to him in the lady's family, the engaged man should show all possible deference towards the of members it, especially to the parents. towards the sisters of his lady love, he should be kind; and generally attentive, and frank, and cordial in his intercourse with her brothers. if there are young children in the family, nothing will make him more popular with the older members than an occasional gift of toys or confectionery, or an excursion during the holidays with the schoolboys, who will readily swear allegiance, after such a trip, to "the man emily is going to marry," or (vulgar little wretches that they are) to "amelia's _beau_." it is not according to the strict laws of etiquette for the brothers and sisters to call the new member at first by his christian name. much will depend on his age and his disposition. there are some people whom one can never address otherwise than formally, while with others it seems perfect nonsense to call them otherwise than by the most familiar term. if not a positive requirement of etiquette, it is, at least, a politic thing to pay considerable attention to the future mother- in-law. to occupy a good place in her esteem and affection is to smooth many a furrow, which otherwise might trip one up in his walk over the tender ground that leads to matrimony. an engaged man should never forget the exceedingly abnormal position he occupies with reference to the lady's family; the inconvenience his presence may occasion, and the amount of forbearance necessary on their parts to insure even a friendly status for him in the household. he should endeavor to repay this by a careful attention to the general rules of the family, and even to the particular fancies of the members; he should rigidly observe their hours for meals, and be careful not to stay later in the evening than the usual hour for the household to retire. there should be the most perfect candor, on the gentleman's part, concerning the state of his financial affairs, and he should respectfully consider the worldly position of the family he is to enter, never doing anything to hurt their feelings, either by word or act, should their status be below his own, and never professing scorn or contempt for wealth or power, should their status be higher than his own. during the arrangement of pecuniary matters, a young lady should endeavor to understand what is going on, receiving it in a right spirit. if she has a private fortune, she should, in all points left to her, be generous and confiding; at the same time, prudent. many a man, she should remember, may abound in excellent qualities, and yet be improvident. he may mean to do well, yet have a passion for building; he may be the very soul of good nature, yet be fond of the gaming-table; he may have no wrong propensities, and yet have a confused notion of accounts, and be one of those unfortunate men who muddle away a great deal of money, no one knows how; or he may be a too strict economist, a man who takes too good care of the pence, till he tires his wife's life out about an extra dollar; or he may be facile, or weakly good-natured, and have a friend who preys on him, and for whom he is disposed to become security. finally, the beloved charles, henry, or reginald may have none of these propensities, but may chance to be an honest merchant, or a tradesman, with his floating capital in business, and a consequent risk of being one day rich, the next a pauper. upon every account, therefore, it is necessary for a young lady to have a settlement on her; and she should not, from a weak spirit of romance, oppose her friends who advise it, since it is for her husband's advantage as well as her own. by making a settlement, there is always a fund that cannot be touched--a something, however small, as a provision for a wife and children; and whether she have a fortune or not, this ought to be made. an allowance for dress should also be arranged; and this should be administered in such a way that a wife should not have to ask for it at inconvenient times, and thus irritate her husband. flirtations on either side should be avoided, not only as, matter of etiquette, but of humanity. no one who is really sincere in his professions will wish to inflict pain on the object of his affections. the same remark applies to the other side. can it be anything but painful in the extreme for a really loving heart to see in the beloved one a tendency to trifle with the most sacred emotions of the heart? it is not etiquette to make signal displays of devotion in public, or to be constantly sitting apart from the rest of the company; but, on the other hand, "the authorities" will do well to make occasions when the engaged pair can be by themselves, doing so, not ostentatiously, but rather doing it, without speaking of it or drawing attention to it. nothing can make an engaged couple look more foolish, and feel more uncomfortable, than for the family to quit the room in which all have been sitting, with some such remark as: "come away! fanny and mr. amor want this room to themselves." poor fanny! in equally bad taste is exclusiveness by the happy couple themselves. their devotions should be reserved for a _tete-a- tete_, and women are generally in fault when it is otherwise. they like to exhibit their conquest; they cannot dispense with attentions; they forget that the demonstration of any peculiar condition of things in society must make some one uncomfortable: the young ladies are uncomfortable because they are not equally happy; the young gentlemen detest what they call nonsense; the old think there is a time for all things. all sitting apart, therefore, and especial displays are in bad taste; and they so often accompany insincerity, that the truest affections are apt to be those which are reserved for the genuine and heartfelt intimacy of private interviews. at the same time, airs of indifference and avoidance should be equally guarded against; since, however strong and mutual attachment may be, such a line of conduct is apt needlessly to mislead others, and so produce mischief. true feeling, and a ladylike consideration for others--a point in which the present generation essentially fails--are the best guides for steering between the extremes of demonstration, on the one hand, and of frigidity on the other. it is the lady's exclusive privilege to appoint the wedding-day; and however impatient the lover, he must submit patiently to her decree upon this important point. when the day is fixed, it is customary for the bridegroom to have ready for the occasion a handsome present, usually a parure of jewels, but governed, of course, by his means and generosity. in france, this gift is called the _corbeille de mariage_, and the rule there is to make its value ten per cent. of the bride's private fortune. it consists of a handsome basket or box, containing shawls, jewels, lace, furs, gloves, fans, and a purse containing a sum of money in _new_ gold pieces. this gift is always placed on exhibition with the rest of the wedding presents. it is etiquette for wedding presents to be sent always to the _bride_, never to the bridegroom, though they be given by friends of the latter. they may be sent at any time during the week previous to the wedding-day, and it is customary to display them, handsomely arranged before the ceremony. in sending out invitations to a wedding, there are two cards folded in the invitation in the envelope. the invitation is in the name of the bride's mother-or if she is not living, the relative or friend nearest the bride-and is as follows: mrs. leon church at home, _wednesday, october th,_ from till o'clock. no. l--- street. the two cards, one large and one small, are folded in this, which is printed upon handsome note-paper. upon the large card is engraved: mr. and mrs. t. l. burns. on the smaller one: miss caroline church. if, however, there is no bridal reception on the wedding-day, but the young people "receive" after their return from the bridal tour, the card containing their joint names contains also the date of reception, as: mr. and mrs. t. l. burns at home, _wednesday, novenber th,_ from till o'clock. no. --- street. or, mr. and mrs. t. l. burns at home, _wednesdays in novemnber,_ from till o'clock. no. --- street. the bridal calls are not expected to be returned until the last day of reception. the bridegroom should give to the first groomsman the control of affairs, and the money for the necessary expenses. he it is who presents the snowy bouquet to the bride, the bridegroom making a similar offering to the bridesmaids. it is the first groomsman who leads the visitors up to the young couple for the words of congratulation. it is he who gives the clergyman his fee, who engages the carriages, and, in short, makes all arrangements. if, as is often the case, the whole bridal party go to the depot to see the happy pair start for the wedding trip, it is then the first groomsman who secures tickets, checks baggage, and secures pleasant seats for the benedict and bride. it is his duty, also, to send the notice of the marriage to the newspapers. in england but one groomsman, or "best man," is allowed to a bridal party, though the bridesmaids may number a dozen, but in this country one groomsman is allowed for every bridesmaid. if the wedding takes place in church, it is customary to reserve the front seats in the body of the church for the relatives of the young couple. it is the height of rudeness for _any one_, whether clergyman, bridegroom, or any member of the bridal train, to keep the bride waiting. the clergyman should be within the rails, the bridegroom and groomsmen should be in the vestry-room, by the time bride is due at the church. the bridesmaids may receive the bride in the vestibule, or may accompany her to the church. the bridal party should meet in the vestry-room. then the bride, leaning on the arm of her father, heads the procession; the bridegroom, with the bride's mother upon his arm, follows; then groomsmen and bridesmaids in couples follow. at the altar, the bridegroom receives the bride, and the ceremony begins. the groomsmen stand behind the bridegroom, the bridesmaids behind the bride. the bride and bridegroom remove the right hand- glove in some churches; in others it is not deemed necessary. the bride stands on the left of the groom. when the wedding takes place at the house of the bride, it is customary to divide the room, either by folding doors or a curtain, and allow the bridal party to be grouped before their friends see them. if, however, this is not convenient, they enter in the same order as in church. it is somewhat customary of late for the bride and groom to walk arm-in-arm to the altar; but it is against established etiquette; the bride should walk with her father, or, if orphaned, with whoever takes the father's place on the occasion. where a ring is used, it is the duty of the first bridesmaid to remove the bride's left-hand glove. after the ceremony, the parents of the bride speak to her first; then the parents of the bridegroom before other friends. after the ceremony, the bride and groom go in the same carriage from the church to the house, or from the house to the railway depot. if there is a breakfast or supper, the bride does not change her dress until she assumes her travelling dress. if parties are given to the bride and groom, the groomsmen and bridesmaids must be also invited, and, if they prefer, all may wear the dress worn at the wedding. this is, however, optional. during the fortnight following a wedding, friends of the family should call upon the mother of the bride. it is contrary to etiquette to wear mourning to a wedding. even in the case of a widowed mother to either of the happy pair, it is customary to wear gray, or some neutral tint, upon the wedding- day, even if the deepest mourning is resumed afterwards. the bridal dress and the costume of the bridesmaids are not matters that come so much within the province of etiquette as of the fashions, which vary as the winds. all that etiquette requires is that good taste shall guide the whole of the arrangements. pure white is the only color worn by the young bride, and the full veil of lace, with wreath of orange flowers, is _de rigueur_; but for a widow, pearl-color or tinted silk, without any veil or wreath, is better. if the bride is a maiden no longer young, it is not in good taste to wear the dress of a youthful bride. white gloves, vests, and ties are demanded for the bridegroom and groomsmen. the bridesmaids may wear colors, but a prettier effect is produced by dresses of pure white, with trimmings only of color. the travelling dress of a bride should be very modest in color and fashion, as it is in extremely bad taste to draw attention to the _bride_ when travelling. it is not etiquette, at a wedding or wedding reception, to congratulate the bride; it is the bridegroom who receives congratulations; the bride, wishes for her future happiness. a gentleman or lady who is acquainted with both bride and groom must speak first to the bride; but if a stranger to either, may first speak to the one with whom he is already acquainted, who will then introduce the other. if a stranger to both bride and groom, the first groomsman must make the introduction. etiquette for baptisms. in the baptisms of infants there are certain customs in the world of good society, independent of the religious ceremonies. a few hints will suffice, as each sect has its own peculiar forms known to the members of that church; we do not profess to guide these, but merely the worldly observances. it is not customary to invite mere acquaintances to be godfather or godmother to an infant; these should be tried friends of long standing, or better still, near relations, to whom the obligations thus imposed will be pleasures and not tasks. never invite any friends to be godfather or godmother, who are not of the same church as the child to be baptized. when you are invited to stand godfather or godmother to an infant, never refuse without grave cause, and then do so immediately, that the parents may have time to make other arrangements. it is unkind, as well as impolite, to refuse to act in this capacity towards children who, from poverty or other reasons, may occupy an inferior position in society to your own. it is customary to allow the godmother to select herself the godfather. it is, however, customary for the maternal grandmother and the paternal grandfather to act as sponsors for the first child; the paternal grandmother and the maternal grandfather as sponsors for the second child. if the grand-parents are not living, the nearest relatives of the same church should be invited. it is customary for the sponsors to make the babe a present. if it is a little boy, the godfather gives a silver cup, with the full name engraved upon it, and the godmother some pretty piece of silver, jewelry, or dress. if a little girl, it is the godmother who gives the cup, and the godfather the other gift. where the sponsors are wealthy, it is not unusual to fill the christening- cup with gold pieces. the godmother often adds to her gift the christening robe and cap, both trimmed with white ribbons--for a babe should wear only pure white when presented for baptism. it is contrary to etiquette to invite young persons to stand as sponsors for an infant. in the roman catholic church, it is customary to baptize an infant as soon as possible. if the child is very delicate, it is customary to send at once for the priest, and have the ceremony per formed in the bed-room; but if the babe is healthy and likely to live, it is usually taken to the church for baptism, as young as the physician will permit. in entering the church, the nurse, carrying the child, goes first; then follow the sponsors, who do not walk arm-in-arm; then the father, and after him the invited guests. when the ceremony commences, the sponsors stand on each side of the child, the godfather on the right, and the godmother on the left. the babe should be held lying in the arms of the nurse, its head upon the right arm. the cap should be tied so as to be easily unfastened and removed. when the priest asks who are the sponsors of the child, it is sufficient for them to incline the head, without speaking. baptism is a gratuitous ceremony in the church, but it is customary for the father to present some token to the officiating clergyman, in the name of the babe, or, where parents are wealthy, to make a handsome donation to the poor of the parish, through the clergyman. in the protestant churches, it is customary to defer the baptism until the mother of the child can be present. it is always desirable to have the ceremony performed in the church, if possible; but if there is a necessity for it, such as the illness of the child or the parents, it can take place in the house of the parents, by their special request. no one should ever offer to act as sponsor for a child. it is the privilege of the parents to make the selection amongst their relatives or friends. if the ceremony is performed at the house of the parents, a carriage must be sent to the house of the clergyman to convey him to the house of the parents, and wait until after the ceremony, to convey him home again. it is extremely rude to expect a clergyman to provide his own conveyance, or to walk. friends invited to a christening usually carry some gift to the babe; gentlemen a gift of silver, and ladies some pretty piece of needlework. if the ceremony is performed in the house of the parents, or if the guests return there from the church, the only refreshments required by etiquette are cake and wine. the father of the child usually gives a present of money to the nurse who carries the babe to the church. it is not etiquette to remain long at a christening; and it is better taste for the infant to be removed to the nursery as soon as the ceremony is over. to keep a weary mother sitting up entertaining guests, or a cross, tired child on exhibition, are either of them in bad taste. for a guest to show any annoyance if a child cries loudly, or is in any way troublesome, is the height of rudeness. remarks or even frowns are forbidden entirely, even if the infant screams so as to make the voice of the clergyman entirely inaudible. etiquette requires that the babe be praised if it is shown to the guests, even if it is a little monster of pink ugliness. ladies, especially mothers, will _see_ something beautiful, if only its helpless innocence, and gentlemen must behold infantile graces, if they cannot actually behold them. "mother's darling" must be the great attraction at a christening, if it only improves the occasion by a succession of yells. etiquette for funerals. when the saddest of all the ceremonies of this life calls forth the sympathy of friends and relatives, there are many little points the observance of which evinces a delicate consideration for the mourners, and a respect for the melancholy occasion. in entering the house of mourning, a gentleman must remove his hat in the hall, and not replace it while in the house. loud talking in the chamber of death is a rudeness which shows not only a want of respect for the dead, but a want of consideration for the grief of the survivors. all quarrels must be forgotten in the presence of death. enemies who meet at a funeral are bound by etiquette, if not by feeling, to salute each other with quiet gravity. whilst the body of the dead remains in the house, no visitor must expect to see the members of the bereaved family, and no offence may be taken if admission is refused to the nearest friends. the formalities necessary upon the death of a member of a family entail upon the survivors many painful interviews, many directions, and often most harrowing discussions. it is, therefore, customary to entrust these details to some relative or friend, who, while near enough to carefully direct the affairs, is yet able to bear the trying details better than the members of the immediate family. it is best to select some one accustomed to the discharge of this duty, and more prudent to name a limit for the expenses. where there are no funeral arrangements made in the will, the person taking this charge may ask one interview with the nearest relative, but after that, relieve them of all care in the matter. if there is no friend who can undertake these trying duties, it is then customary to make the undertaker the master of the painful ceremonies. to surround the funeral ceremonies with great parade and pomp is usually more of a vain and ostentatious display than an act of respect towards the dead; at the same time, any meanness or parsimony is in bad taste. the expenses should be governed by the position of the deceased, and the means of the survivors. if invitations are sent out, it is customary to have a number printed, and sent to the friends. the following is the usual form: "you are respectfully invited to attend the funeral of j. j. c, on wednesday, the th of may, -, at o'clock a.m., from his late residence, no. street. to proceed to laurel hill cemetery." or, if the services are not at the house: "you are respectfully invited to attend the funeral of j. j. c, from the church of the incarnation, on wednesday, the th of may, at o'clock a.m. to proceed to laurel hill cemetery." it is contrary to the rules of etiquette to send these invitations by post. a list of the persons invited must be given to the person directing the funeral ceremonies, and he will give the undertaker a list of the order in which the guests are to be placed in the carriages, if the funeral leaves the city, or the order of the procession if the guests go to the grave on foot. if the invitation is given through the newspapers, the words "without further notice" must be added, and the guests will not expect another invitation. the list is then omitted, and no especial order observed in placing the guests in carriages or procession. guests invited to a funeral must not present themselves before the hour appointed, when the corpse is generally exposed for the last gaze of the friends. it is customary for the family to pay their last visit to the coffin just before that hour, and all intrusion is against the customs of society. the corpse usually is exposed in a drawing-room, and the family assemble in another apartment, if the services are to be conducted in church, and the guests go from the house there. if, however, the guests are invited to meet the funeral in church, the coffin is usually placed in front of the chancel, with the lid removed, and friends pass, from the _feet to the head_, up one aisle and down another, after the services are over. if the guests assemble at the house of the deceased, it is customary for some near relative, not of the immediate family, to receive them, and do the honors of the occasion. the ladies of the family are never expected to see the guests at a funeral; but it is optional with the gentlemen. strict etiquette at the present day denies the ladies of the family the privilege of following the corpse from the house; but it is a custom "more honored in the breach than in the observance." when the funeral procession is ready to start, the clergyman leaves the house first, and enters a carriage, which precedes the hearse. then follows the coffin, which is placed in the hearse; the next carriage is for the immediate family and relatives. guests stand uncovered while these mourners pass them, no salutation being expected. the gentleman who does the honors should precede the family as they pass from their room to the carriages, assist them in, close the door, and motion the driver to move slowly forward, and to the next carriage to drive up to the door. the same order is observed at the church door, where the master of ceremonies assists the mourners to leave and re-enter the carriages. when the private carriage of the deceased follows the hearse, it should be empty, and precede the other carriages. if the friends go on foot, and the weather is cold, the gentlemen may wear their hats; but if the weather is mild, it is customary to walk uncovered, with the hat in the right hand. if the hat is worn, it must be removed as the coffin passes from the hearse to the church, when the guests form a double line, down which it is carried, and the same line and observance must be made after the service, as the coffin is carried from the church to the hearse again. if lady friends attend a funeral, if they are not in mourning, they should wear grave, quiet colors. to go to a funeral in a gay dress is insulting. upon the coffin of an infant or young person, it is customary to place a wreath of white flowers. upon the coffin of a married person, a cross of white flowers is usually placed. upon the coffin of an army or navy officer, the hat, epaulets, sword, and sash are placed, and it is customary to use the flag to cover the coffin. a sufficient number of carriages should be provided to carry all invited guests to the cemetery. at the cemetery, the priest or clergyman walks in advance of the coffin, and the others alight from the carriages and stand around the grave. after the carriages leave the cemetery, it is not customary for the guests to return to the house of the mourners; but each may, on re-entering the carriage, direct the driver, in a low tone, where to drive him. the family physician, if able to attend the funeral, should have a seat in the carriage following that of the immediate family. the carriage must be sent for the priest or clergyman in time for him to be punctually at the house at the appointed hour. if gifts of flowers are sent to the mourners, they must be white only, and sent on the day of the funeral early enough to be used in the decoration of the coffin. if pall-bearers are invited, they must be immediate friends of the deceased. it is a foreign custom of much beauty and significance to select young children for pall-bearers for infants and children, dressing them in white, and draping the coffin in white, trimmed with silver fringe and cords. if gloves and crape bands are distributed to the gentlemen guests, they must be handed them when they first enter the house. it is a gross violation of etiquette to make any selection in such cases; nobody expects to have gloves so given as to fit the hands; but they must be worn. it is far more elegant to present yourself already provided with black kid gloves on your hands, and allow the undertaker to provide you only with the crape. friends in deep mourning are not expected to pay visits of condolence, and are excused from accepting funeral invitations; but all others are expected to accept them. it is but a poor compliment to your friends to attend their dinners, receptions, balls, and parties, and refuse to be present when they are in affliction, or to pay the last act of respect to the memory of those they love. during the week following a funeral, friends should leave their cards for the family of the deceased, and call again about a fortnight later, asking then to see the members of the family. it is not customary to ask to see the family of a deceased friend before the funeral; but cards should be sent, and offers of service sent by note. the lady friend nearest the family, or a relative not of the immediate family, is the proper person to purchase the mourning for the ladies of the family, and the gentleman friend or relative that for the gentlemen. no member of the immediate family of the deceased should leave the house between the death and the funeral upon any errand or pretext. at the funeral of a mounted officer, his horse, fully equipped, and draped in mourning, should be led by a servant after the hearse. if the deceased belonged to any society, as free masons, odd fellows, or such organization, the society should be invited through a note sent to the president, and they will send word to the master of ceremonies if there is any especial order in which they wish to follow the corpse, or any form or ceremony peculiar to that order which they would like observed. these invitations, if given through the newspapers, should carefully specify the lodge or order to which the deceased belonged. the regalia in such cases is usually displayed on the coffin-lid, but removed before the coffin leaves the house. white plumes are customary on the hearse of a young person, and black ones for married and elderly people. it is not customary to send invitations to the funeral of a person who has died of contagious disease, and the statement of the malady in the newspapers is generally accepted by the friends as an excuse for the omission of invitations. in visiting a cemetery, it is an act of rudeness to stand near a lot where mourners are assembled, or in any way to notice those who are decorating the graves of friends. no time can be named when the delicate attentions and observances of etiquette are more grateful than when sorrow is heavy on the heart, etiquette of the studio. there are a few rules of etiquette applicable to visitors to artists' studios, which it will be well to note, the more so because they are special, and might not suggest themselves, as a matter of course, even to those to whom nature presented the whole code of etiquette when she gave them a gentle disposition. it is not etiquette to ask an artist the price of his pictures at sight. if a visitor sees a painting or a piece of statuary which he wishes to possess, he asks simply that he may have the refusal of it; or he says to the artist: "i wish to have this picture, if it is not disposed of." after leaving the studio, the visitor writes and asks the price, of which he is informed by the artist, in writing. should the price be larger than the would-be purchaser is disposed to give, he writes again to that effect, and it is no breach of etiquette to name the sum which he wished to spend upon the work of art. this gives an opportunity to the artist of lowering his price. it is not customary, however, to haggle about the sum, and the correspondence should not be carried farther than above, except it be an intimation from the artist that he will accept the terms of the purchaser, and that the picture is subject to his order, and will be sent to him on further instructions. some portrait painters have a practice which, for obvious reasons, cannot be adopted by painters of general subjects. they have a card hung up in a conspicuous part of the studio, showing the price at which they will execute portraits of the sizes given. at the bottom of this card there is generally an intimation that half the price must be paid after the first sitting, the remainder when the portrait is completed. this practice saves time and trouble, and it would be well if other artists could adopt some system whereby the price of such paintings as they may have for sale might be made known to visitors. but the price of a fancy picture is to be ascertained by the artist only by what it will bring, and it is quite likely that the wealth of the buyer, or his known admiration for good paintings, may reasonably make a difference in the sum asked by the artist, who might ask a lower price of a man whom he knew could not afford so much. there is nothing wrong in this, for an artist has as much right to get as much more than the minimum price of his picture as anybody else has to get the best price for his labor or his merchandise. portrait painting is, however, pretty much a repetition of the same sort of work, and the artist would be the last man in the world to admit that there could be such difference in the execution of the work as to warrant a scale of prices in conformity therewith. it is not etiquette to visit the studio of an artist excepting by special invitation, and then only at the hours he may appoint. to go at any other time is ill-bred; for although he may be there, he will probably be unwilling to be disturbed at his work. it is ill-bred to take a young child to visit the studio of an artist, as there are generally articles there of value and easily broken or soiled; and even if the child is well trained, the owner of such articles would be in terror lest they should be ruined. it is excessively ill-bred to criticize harshly, in the presence of an artist, the works displayed in his studio. extravagant praise is also in bad taste. a few cordial words of praise and pleasure should, of course, be spoken, and a friend may sometimes point out where improvements could be made; but it is a thankless task generally, and it is in much better taste to leave all criticism to the public journals, when the paintings are on public exhibition. it is against the rules of etiquette to keep an artist waiting, if you are sitting for a portrait. his time is of value to him, whatever yours may be to you; and it is equally rude to detain him after the sitting is over. his politeness may hinder him from even hinting to you that you are trespassing upon his hours for work, though he may be fretting silently at your rudeness in so doing. it is contrary to the rules of etiquette to look around a studio in which you may be sitting for a portrait, unless you are invited by an artist to do so. it is against the rules of etiquette to ask to see an unfinished picture, even if it is one that is being painted by your own order. to uncover any picture or article in a studio that may be veiled or hidden from view is extremely rude. it is equally so to turn a picture that is hung to face the wall, or standing facing it. gentlemen must never smoke in a studio, unless especially invited by the artist to do so. to whisper in a studio is excessively ill-bred; for although you may make a remark entirely independent of what is around you, you may rest assured you will have the credit of having ridiculed or censured some of the pictures you have been invited to examine. to behave in a studio as if you were in a store, pricing pictures, inquiring about what is for public exhibition, what is not; who ordered this picture or that; whose portrait this or that may be; or in any way reminding the artist that his genius is merchandise, is rude and indelicate. it is against the rules of etiquette to handle the pictures or other articles in a studio. it is extremely rude, if an artist continues his employment during a visit to his studio, for the visitor to stand behind him, or very near him, or in any way to seem to watch his work. table etiquette. it is impossible for a lady or gentleman to act with perfect ease and graceful manner at table when in company, at a hotel or any public place, unless they habitually pay attention to those minor points of etiquette, which form so distinctive a mark of perfectly good breeding. habitual neglect of the courtesies and etiquette of the table will make them appear awkward restraints upon occasions when they are important. if the father or mother of a family accustom the children, by example as well as precept, to be attentive and polite to each other at every meal, they need never fear that they will shame them by rudeness or awkwardness when they go abroad. even when a person habitually eats alone, it is better to do so gracefully and with attention to the rules of etiquette, that habits of awkwardness may not be formed, which it will be difficult to shake off when in company. to make noises when eating, sucking soup with a gurgling sound, chewing meat noisily, swallowing as if with an effort, smacking the lips, or breathing heavily while masticating food, are all marks of low breeding. it is a bad habit to put large pieces of food into the mouth. if you are addressed suddenly with your mouth so filled, you are obliged to make an awkward pause before answering, or to run the risk of choking by swallowing the great mouthful too hastily. never open the napkin entirely, but let it lie on the lap, partly folded. sit neither very near nor very far from the table. it is rude to move your arms at table so as to incommode those on either side of you. ladies should, after seating themselves, endeavor to draw their skirts into a space that will not crowd those seated beside them. to lean back in the chair is rude, and surely no gentleman would ever be guilty of tipping his chair at table. sit erect, not stiffly, but in an easy position. bread must always be broken, never cut, and certainly never bitten. if a plate is sent to you filled with the food you have selected, keep it, as others may not have the same choice; if the plate contain one dish, such as pie or pudding, you may pass it on to those beside you, and wait till others above you are served before reserving a plate for yourself. to eat very fast is inelegant; to eat very slowly bears an air of affectation. try to preserve the happy medium. it is a good plan to accustom yourself to eat with the left hand, and thus avoid shifting your knife and fork from one hand to the other. a gentleman will always see that ladies are served before eating himself, avoid making any noise on your plate with your knife and fork. it is against all rules of etiquette to soak up gravy with bread, to scrape up sauce with a spoon, or to take up bones with the fingers. never cross the knife and fork on a plate until you have finished eating. never hold your knife and fork erect in your hands at each side of your plate, when conversing at the table. never ask for a second helping. it is the duty of those at the head and foot of the table to offer it. to blow soup to cool it, or to pour tea or coffee into a saucer for the same purpose, are acts of awkwardness never seen in polite society. wait until they are cool enough to be pleasant. use the salt-spoon, butter-knife, and sugar-tongs even when you are alone. if you want to cough, sneeze, or blow your nose, leave the table. if you have not time, turn away your head, and lean back in your chair. to pass a plate with a knife or fork upon it, or a cup with a spoon in it, are acts of rudeness. put your spoon in the saucer, and your knife and fork on the table, until you are served. never hurry away from the table as soon as you finish eating, if others remain to converse. if you are obliged to leave before a meal is finished or immediately after, ask to be excused for so doing, and apologize for the necessity. never mention at the table any subject that is likely to disgust others. it is a piece of rudeness only too common, and is to be severely censured. many who are utterly without affectation are really sensitive on such points, and their meal and comfort are both spoiled if disgusting associations are suggested at table. at home, if you use a napkin-ring, fold your napkin and replace it in the ring when you have done with it. if you are dining out, never fold your napkin, but place it beside your plate. none but a clown would use the table-cloth for a napkin, pick his teeth with his fork, put his fingers in his plate, or wipe his face with his napkin. if you are unfortunate enough to find anything disgusting in your food--a hair in the soup, a coal in the bread, a worm in the fruit, or a fly in your coffee--do not loudly exclaim, or disturb the appetite of others by mention of your mishap. remove the disgusting object quietly, or change your cup or plate without remark. the french poet, delille, tells of an interview between himself and marmoutel, which rather humorously points out how table etiquette may change. delille and marmoutel were dining together, in the month of april, ; and the conversation happened to turn upon dinner table customs. marmoutel observed how many little things a well-bred man was obliged to know, if he would avoid being ridiculous at the table of his friends. "they are, indeed, innumerable," said delille, "and the most annoying fact of all is, that not all the wit and good sense in the world can help one to divine them untaught. a little while ago, for instance, the abbe cosson, who is professor of literature at college mazarin, was describing to me a grand dinner to which he had been invited at versailles, and to which he had sat down in the company of peers, princes, and marshals of france. "'i'll wager now,' said i,'that you committed a hundred blunders in the etiquette of the table.' "'how so?' replied the abbe, somewhat nettled. 'what blunders could i make? it seems to me that i did precisely as others did.' "'and i, on the contrary, would stake my life that you did nothing as others did. but let us begin at the beginning, and see which is right. in the first place, there was your table napkin--what did you do with that when you sat down to table?' "'what did i do with my table napkin? why, i did like the rest of the guests: i shook it out of the folds, spread it before me, and fastened one corner to my button-hole.' "'very well, _mon cher_, you were the only person who did so. no one shakes, spreads, and fastens a table napkin in that manner. you should have only laid it across your knees. what soup had you?' "'turtle.' "'and how did you eat it ?' "'like every one else, i suppose. i took my spoon in one hand and my fork in the other.' "'your fork? good heavens! none but a savage eats soup with a fork. but go on. what did you take next?' "'a boiled egg.' "'good. and what did you do with the shell?' "'not eat it, certainly. i left it, of course, in the egg-cup.' "'without breaking it through with your spoon?' "'without breaking it.' "'then, my dear fellow, permit me to tell you that no one eats an egg without breaking the shell, and leaving the spoon standing in it. and after your egg?' "'i asked for some _boulli_.' "'for _boulli_!' it is a term that no one uses. you should have asked for beef; never for _bouilli_. well, and after the _bouilli_?' "'i asked the abbe de badenvillais for some fowl.' "'wretched man! fowl indeed! you should have asked for chicken or capon. the word "fowl" is never heard out of the kitchen. but all this applies only to what you ate; tell me something of what you drank, and how you asked for it.' "'i asked for champagne and bordeaux from those who had the bottles before them.' "'know, then, my good friend, that only a waiter, who has no time or breath to spare, asks for champagne or bordeaux. a gentleman asks for vin de champagne and vin de bordeaux. but now inform me how you ate your bread.' "'undoubtedly like all the rest of the world: i cut it up into small square pieces with my knife.' "'then let me tell you that no one cuts bread; you should always break it. let us go on to the coffee. how did you drink yours?' "'pshaw! at least, i could make no mistake in that. it was boiling hot; so i poured it, a little at a time, in the saucer, and drank it as it cooled.' "'_eh bien_! then you assuredly acted as no other gentleman in the room. nothing can be more vulgar than to pour tea or coffee into a saucer. you should have waited till it cooled, and then have drunk it from the cup. and now you see, my dear cousin, that so far from doing precisely as the others did, you acted in no one respect according to the laws prescribed by etiquette.'" etiquette with children. it is against the rules of strict etiquette to take a child when making formal calls, as they are a restraint upon conversation, even if they are not troublesome about touching forbidden articles, or teasing to go home. never take a child to a funeral, either to the house of mourning or to the cemetery. never allow a child to take a meal at a friend's house without special invitation. it is impossible to know how much she may be inconvenienced, while her regard for the mother would deter her from sending the little visitor home again. never allow a child to handle goods in a store. never send for children to meet visitors in the drawing-room, unless the visitors themselves request to see them. make their stay then very brief, and be careful that they are not troublesome. never take a child to church until it is old enough to remain perfectly quiet. although you may be accustomed to its restless movements, and not disturbed by them, others near you will certainly feel annoyed by them. it is not etiquette to put a child to sleep in the room of a guest, nor to allow children to go at all to a guest's room, unless especially invited to do so, and even then to make long stay there. etiquette excludes children from all companies given to grown persons, from all parties and balls, excepting such as are given especially given for their pleasure. when invited to walk or drive, never take a child, unless it has been invited, or you have requested permission to do so; even in the latter case, the consent is probably given more from good nature than from any desire to have a juvenile third to the party. never crowd children into pic-nic parties, if they have not been invited. they generally grow weary and very troublesome before the day is over. never take a child to spend the day with a friend unless it has been included in the invitation. never allow children to be in the drawing room if strangers are present. never allow children to handle the ornaments in the drawing room of a friend. never allow a child to pull a visitor's dress, play with the jewelry or ornaments she may wear, take her parasol or satchel for a plaything, or in any way annoy her. train children early to answer politely when addressed, to avoid restless, noisy motions when in company, and gradually inculcate a love of the gentle courtesies of life. by making the rules of etiquette habitual to them, you remove all awkwardness and restraint from their manners when they are old enough to go into society. never send a child to sit upon a sofa with grown people, unless they express a desire to have it do so. never crowd a child into a carriage seat between two grown people. never allow a child to play with a visitor's hat or cane. if children are talented, be careful you do not weary your friends, and destroy their own modesty by "showing them off," upon improper occasions. what may seem wonderful to an interested mother, may be an unutterable weariness to a guest, too polite to allow the mother to perceive the incipient yawn. never allow children to visit upon the invitation of other children. when they are invited by the older members of the family, it is time to put on their "best bibs and tuckers." never take children to a house of mourning, even if you are an intimate friend. the custom for having children in the drawing-room for morning or evening parties, or in the dining-room with the dessert at dinner companies, is not only often an annoyance to the guests, but bad for the children themselves. it is one of the first duties of parents to train their children at home as they would have them appear abroad. an english lady writes thus: "if, then, we desire that our children shall become ladies and gentlemen, can we make them so, think you, by lavishing money upon foreign professors, dancing-masters, foreign travel, tailors, and dressmakers? ah, no! good breeding is far less costly, and begins far earlier than those things. let our little ones be nurtured in an atmosphere of gentleness and kindness from the nursery upwards; let them grow up in a home where a rude gesture or an ill-tempered word are alike unknown; where between father and mother, master and servant, mistress and maid, friend and friend, parent and child, brother and sister, prevails the law of truth, of kindness, of consideration for others, and forgetfulness of self. can they carry into the world, whither we send them later, aught of coarseness, of untruthfulness, of slatternliness, of vulgarity, if their home has been orderly, if their parents have been refined, their servants well mannered, their friends and playmates kindly and carefully trained as themselves? do we want our boys to succeed in the world; our girls to be admired and loved; their tastes to be elegant; their language choice; their manners simple, charming, refined, and graceful; their friendship elevating? then we must ourselves be what we would have our children to be, remembering the golden maxim, that good manners, like charity, must begin at home. "good manners are an immense social force. we should, therefore, spare no pains to teach our children what to do, and what to avoid doing, in their pathway through life. "on utilitarian as well as social principles, we should try to instruct our children in good manners; for whether we wish them to succeed in the world, or to adorn society, the point is equally important. we must never lose sight of the fact, that here teachers and professors can do little, and that the only way in which it in possible to acquire the habits of good society is to live in no other." games with cards. married ladies and elderly gentlemen are allowed to claim precedence at the card-table, over single young ladies and the younger men. ladies of "a certain age," if single, can claim the privileges of the card-table with married ladies. etiquette does not require any one to play unwillingly. it is very rude to urge the request, as many have conscientious scruples on this matter, though they may not care to wound the feelings of those playing by proclaiming them. it is not kind, however, and therefore it is not etiquette, to refuse to play, if there are no such scruples, when the refusal prevents a game being made up. none should attempt to play--whist, for instance--unless really able to do so moderately well. it is not fair to impose a poor partner upon one who may be really fond of the game and play well. it is not etiquette for those very fond of card-playing to victimize every guest by producing cards whenever they call, whether they care for playing or not. many will play from good- nature who would prefer to pass the time in conversation. husband and wife, or any partners who may be supposed to be intimately acquainted with each other's play, should not play together. it is taking an unfair advantage of the other couple for them to play partners. if playing for stakes, the gentleman pays for his lady partner in the event of loss; but does not receive her winnings. all violations of the known rules of the game are violations of the laws of etiquette as well. yet, if such violations are made, they should be pointed out in a quiet and courteous manner, not made the subject of violent dispute or censure. any altercations are violations of the laws of etiquette. loss of temper, no matter how continuous the ill-luck, is a breach of manners; so are objurgations of one's partner's performances, and criticisms on the play of partner or adversary. in whist, as in marriage, the partner is taken for better for worse, and in neither case should an ill-assorted couple try to make matters worse than they are by grumbling and growling at each other. it is a breach of etiquette to talk constantly upon other subjects whilst engaged in a game of cards. whist, as all good players know, is a game that requires close attention, and almost absolute silence; and the other games can be much disturbed by talking. to converse with those who are not playing is still worse. it is a violation of all courtesy to allow the attention to be diverted at all. if addressed while at the game, make your answer as brief as politeness will permit, and give your whole attention to the game again. no one can play so well with divided attention; and you may be certain it is an annoyance to your partner, even if your opponent does not object to it. any appearance of an understanding between partners, as smiles, nods, or winks, are gross violations, not only of the laws of the game, but of good manners. to finger the cards whilst they are being dealt is a breach of good manners. even if you do not violate the laws of the game by actually looking at them, you are committing an error in etiquette by seeming to be in any way aware of their existence before you are at liberty to take them in your hand. never start a conversation that would lead to long argument or discussion in the pauses of the game. small talk, chit-chat, is certainly admissible whilst the cards are being dealt, but only upon topics which can be readily dropped when the play is again the leading subject. to play cards with an air of weariness or abstraction is positively rude. if you are not interested in the game, strive to appear so, and if you are not equal to that, you had better stop playing. try to avoid argument upon nice points in playing. even if you are right, it is more courteous to yield to your adversary than to keep others waiting whilst you prove your position. etiquette by no means requires stakes of money. if counters are not provided for betting games, you may refuse to bet, without any breach of good manners. in your own house, never offer guests any but _new_ cards to play with. it is a violation of etiquette to propose card-playing in another person's house. this is the privilege of the host or hostess, and if they do not suggest the amusement, it is absolutely rude for any one else to do so. it is a breach of etiquette to hurry others who are playing. nothing annoys a deliberate player more than to have a partner or adversary constantly saying, "come, play; it is your turn now," or, "we are all waiting for you." even if you take no pleasure in cards, some knowledge of the etiquette and rules belonging to the games most in vogue will be useful to you, unless you object upon principle to playing. if so, it is better at once to state the fact. if not, and a fourth hand is wanted at a rubber, or if the rest of the company sit down to a round game, you will be deemed guilty of a want of politeness if you refuse to join. the games most common are whist, loo, euchre, vingt-un, and speculation. whist requires four players. a pack of cards being spread upon the table, with their faces downward, the four players draw for partners. those who draw the two highest, and those who draw the two lowest, become partners. the lowest of all claims the deal. in declaring that married people may not play at the same table, society by no means understands anything so disgraceful as dishonest collusion; but persons who play regularly together cannot fail to know so much of each other's mode of acting under given circumstances that the chances no longer remain perfectly even in favor of their adversaries. visiting cards. the fashion of cards is a variable one. it may be the fashion to- day to have them large, square, and printed upon rough surfaces; to-morrow they may be small, long, and highly glazed; now they are engraved; now written. in fact, there are too many freaks and changes to mention all; but etiquette requires always perfect simplicity. an ornamental visiting card is simply detestable. glazed cards are not now in vogue, but they may be again, and ladies' cards are cut much smaller than those used by gentlemen. persons who have a city and country residence must have two sets of cards, with the residence at the time of calling engraved on the left-hand corner, thus: mrs. john potts, no. --- street, while mrs. potts is in the city, and mrs. john potts, cedars, when mrs. potts is out of town. visiting cards must never bear a business address. all merely honorary or official designations must be omitted, except in cards designed for official visits only. officers of the army or navy may use their title or not, as preferred, as: capt. james burns, u.s.a., or, james burns, u.s.a., are either of them correct, the former having the advantage of putting the receiver in possession at once of his visitor's rank, the latter allowing scope for promotion or change of title. for militia officers to use their titles upon visiting cards is a piece of affectation utterly absurd. members of congress are always entitled to use the "hon." before the name on their visiting cards, even after their term of office has expired. judges and physicians are also allowed to use their titles; but no other professional men. cards should be engraved in simple italian characters, and without flourish, embossed surface, or even ostentatiously large letters. every visiting card should have the address in small letters in the left-hand corner. if used when in a strange city, the usual address may be scored in lead-pencil, and the temporary one written under the name, thus: mr. and mrs. william leigh, no. --- street. st. james hotel. it is optional with unmarried ladies to use the prefix to their names. gentlemen without military, naval, official, or professional titles generally omit any prefix but may use the abbreviation "mr." if they desire. autograph visiting cards are conceited affectations. the autograph of distinguished characters may be desirable; but it is precisely that class of people who would be least likely to use them. a neatly engraved card is _en regle_; printed ones look cheap, and are not suitable for visiting. persons in mourning should use cards with black borders. young unmarried ladies may use separate cards, or may have their names added to their mother's, thus: mrs. joseph banks. miss lucy banks. leave-taking cards have p. p. c. (_pour prendre conge_) written in the right-hand corner. wedding cards are in the best taste when perfectly simple. it is a breach of etiquette to leave a card after being informed that the person visited is at home. when you have been informed of an important event in the family of a friend-a birth, a marriage, or a death-if you are unable to offer personal congratulation or condolence, you may leave a card within a week. if you reside in another city, you may send your card by post, with the word "felicitation" under the name. a mournful event calls for a letter. a card left for two or more members of the same family must have a corner turned down. a card with a photograph portrait upon it, though to a certain extent fashionable, is a vulgarism that can never obtain general favor. if you are a gentleman, your visage may be reserved by the chambermaid, to exhibit as "one of her beaux," and no lady, surely, would ever display her face on a visiting card. gentlemen presenting flowers or other gifts to ladies should always attach a card, and over the name write, "with compliments of." christmas gifts, when sent, should be accompanied by the card of the giver. loans of books or music, when returned, should always be accompanied by the card of the borrower. letter writing. no one should write letters at all who cannot write in a clear, fair hand, that "those who run may read." in a busy age like the present, when every one's time has a certain value, we have no right to impose the reading of hieroglyphics upon our correspondents. "i's" should be dotted, "t's" crossed, and capitals used in their proper places, and only the most obvious abbreviations indulged in. punctuation is equally _de regueur_; the most unimportant letters should be carefully punctuated; and the habit is so easily acquired, and so simple, that after a while it entails no more time or thought than dotting the "i's." the handwriting of a lady or gentleman should not be commercial or scholastic, but firm and characteristic. all affectations in writing should be avoided, such as sloping one's hand to the left, the use of flourishes, undue size in the characters, or a diminutiveness of the same to try eyesight and patience. the signature should be simple and unostentatious. nothing can be more absurd than to see a person whose name can have no significance to the world in general, sign himself as elaborately as if he were the pope or president at least, underlining should only be resorted to when the underlined word is of really great importance. many ladies carry this practice to excess, and so rob it of all significance, as a speaker who emphasized every other word would not be heeded when he needed to be emphatic. what can be more absurd than such a sentence as the following: "we are all very sorry to hear that you cannot come to visit us this summer, as we expected, and wish your business was not so engrossing." for the ordinary correspondence of a lady or gentleman it is advisable to use white note-paper of good quality, and the size distinguished as "commercial note." if monograms or initials are used, they should be as simple as possible, and in white or black only. gilt or colored monograms are in bad taste. red sealing-wax is admissible only for business letters, and wafers are entirely out of style. in mourning, the paper and envelopes may have a black border suitable to the relationship of the dead, and the length of time the mourning has been worn. in the deepest mourning, exaggerations of black border are unbecoming and in bad taste. real grief is always unostentatious. no letter should contain erasures under any circumstances. the stamp should be placed exactly in the right-hand corner of the envelope; it must neither be up-side-down, nor slanting, nor in any way carelessly affixed. negligence in these matters evinces a rudeness to the person to whom you write, as hinting that you think anything will do. blots and smears are almost too gross pieces of carelessness to be commented upon. after ten years of age, they are entirely inexcusable. never omit your own name and address from a letter, whether of business or friendship. in writing to persons with whom you are but slightly acquainted, use as few words as possible. you are not authorized in taking up much of their time. it is only in correspondence with very intimate friends that long letters are permissible. if occasion necessitates a letter to a very busy person, politeness requires that it should be framed as curtly as is consistent with civility and perspicuity. it is unpardonable to waste really valuable time, because we do not choose to be at the trouble of concentrating our thoughts and sparing our words. in writing to our friends or acquaintances, we should never communicate bad news abruptly; but should lead the way to it in such a manner as to soften the blow. a great deal of pain may be avoided by a proper choice of words. we should scrupulously avoid writing too frequently, or at too great a length, of our own losses and misfortunes. to do this is merely thoughtless egotism. we may have a right to expect sympathy from our friends, but we have no right to make our letters inflictions. letters should invariably be written cheerfully if possible, and, at least, in a tone of resignation. an ill-tempered letter is as great a mistake as a lachrymose one. nothing is so inexpedient as to write a letter in a fit of indignation and anger. if you must give way to your feelings, write your letter, but let it remain unposted until the next day; read it over then, and you will probably put it in the fire. it is better, if possible, to seek an interview with the person who has wronged or affronted you. spoken recrimination or reproof is forgotten; but when you have once written down and issued your angry thoughts, they are irrevocable, and a sure source of after regret. in dealing with those who may have treated you unfairly, be civil in your letters. be as haughty as you please, and state your grievance in plain, unvarnished terms, and there end. if the truth does not sting, nothing you can add to it will do so; and vituperation, though it does not injure the person upon whom you bestow it, injures your own cause, and detracts seriously from the proper dignity of your own position. in writing, as in conversation, egotism is a capital offence. we have no more right to be egotistic on paper than we have a right to be dull or disagreeable. a letter should be like a visit, bright, inspiriting, and a reflex of our best mood. above all, it should be kind and sympathetic. there are letters whose arrival we hail as we should that of a new book by a delightful writer, or the visit of a brilliant acquaintance. again, there are others, the delivery of which, anticipating all the dullness and verbosity with which they are certain to be filled, we dread like the incursions of a well-known bore. who would not wish to be the writer of the one? who would not take any amount of pains with his correspondence to avoid being dreaded as the other? always answer any letter that may be addressed to you, no matter who the writer may be. if the letter be from one who has no business to write to you, nevertheless acknowledge it, and by your style and manner check further impertinence. thus: washington, d. c., jan. th, -. sir: i write to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the th inst., acquainting me with your opinion of my speech in congress on the th ultimo. i am, sir, your obedient servant, james m. --- mr. p. c. littleton, philadelphia. business letters generally have the name of the firm or person to whom they are addressed written above the "gentlemen." or "sir," as: "messrs. dick & fitzgerald: "gentlemen," or, "john brown, esq.: "dear sir." the name of the place from which the letter is written, the date, the full name of writer and receiver, should be given in some part of a letter. the practice of heading a note "monday," without a date, and signing it "charlie," is very embarrassing; it makes it difficult to answer a note unless immediately, when the day of the week can be readily identified with the day of the month, and when the receiver knows who his correspondent really is. besides this, in the event of the letter miscarrying, it cannot be returned if there be no surname attached to the signature. a most important lawsuit in london was lost by a letter, of great value and significance otherwise, being dropped from the evidence for want of identification, being directed, "dearest tootings," and signed, "your loving poppets." it may seem absurd that a letter of weight could contain such silliness; but it was a fact. do not write on scraps of paper, as if your correspondence were not worth the cost of a proper sheet. neither use old envelopes turned, as some people are wont to do. always be sure that your letter has sufficient stamps upon it to fully prepay its weight. do not enclose stamps for an answer unless the matter be a business one, and your own proper affair. should you send manuscript subject to approval to an editor, enclose stamps sufficient to pay for its return. you have no right to put another to this expense, especially as you already require from him a sacrifice of time, in order to look over what you have sent. anonymous communications are both cowardly and ill-bred. under no circumstances should they be written. the fire is the only fit asylum for them when received. the gunpowder plot might have been revealed openhandedly, and the anonymous letter even in that case nearly missed its aim. the only anonymous communications which can be tolerated are the harmless missives called valentines. these, however, have fallen out of favor in polite society. children and servants are the chief supporters of the manufacturers of the gorgeous love-letters. in writing to a person who is the guest of another, take care to place the name of the host or hostess on the cover of your letter. some people address the letter in such a case to the host, and inscribe the name of their correspondent in the left-hand corner, thus: james gordon, esq., no. --- street, new york. for mrs. t. c. bates. this practice is very likely to lead to an unintentional opening of the letter by the wrong person; for a cursory glance at the cover would seem to show that the letter was intended for the person whose name was most prominent. the letter should have been directed, to the person for whom it was intended first, thus: mrs. t. c. bates, care of james gordon, esq., no. --- street, new york. unless very well acquainted with your correspondent, do not use terms implying intimacy. business letters usually commence with "sir," "gentlemen," "dear sir," or "dear sirs," and end with, "i am, sir (or gentlemen), your obedient servant," etc. official letters invariably begin with the title of the person addressed, and then "sir," if a civilian or the rank of an officer. if the letter be to the head of a department, to a high government official, or to a superior officer, it is customary to write in a strain a little more deferential than ordinary, so that, instead of saying, as you would to a friend, "i have to acquaint you," "i have to acknowledge the receipt of your letter," you would say, "i have the honor to acknowledge." the ending, too, of such letters should be slightly different: "i have the honor to be, general, your obedient servant," taking the place of "i am, sir," etc. in official communications, margins are always left, so as to allow of notations being made for the purpose of framing an answer, and the backs of the pages should be left blank for the same purpose. it is not customary to write down quite to the bottom of the page, but to take ample room for the substance of the letter. unless writing officially, or to some public person, it is not customary in this country to give a man all the titles which may belong to him. remember that "brevity is the soul of wit." let your letters be concisely written, not too bluntly, but in a clear, straightforward style, going at once to the subjects you desire to mention, with as little preamble as possible. use the passive instead of the active voice. to do so prevents the continual thrusting forward of the first person singular into the letter, and gives a more modest appearance to the text. short notes to strangers on business--as, for instance, in reference to the character of a servant, asking for some information, etc.--should be written in the third person singular, thus: "mrs. wright presents her compliments to mrs. left, and will feel greatly obliged by any information respecting the character and qualifications of jane broom, who has applied for a situation as housemaid in mrs. wright's household. "no. f--- street, jan th, ." the answer should also be written in the third person, and should contain as much information as possible relative to the points inquired about, stating whether the servant is honest, sober, and truthful, and what is her experience of her disposition and habits. in writing to a servant, or to one considerably below your own station, the following form may be used: "jane broom is hereby informed that mrs. wright is willing to engage her as housemaid from the th of january, . "no. f street, jan. th, ." or this: "jane broom--your character is satisfactory, and you can enter my service on saturday, the th of january." or this: "mrs. wright is satisfied with jane broom's character, and informs her that she may enter mrs. wright's service as housemaid on saturday next." in sending any communication to a newspaper or magazine, address to "the editor," and not to any private person connected with the publication. by so doing, you will better secure attention than if you trouble the editor at his own house by addressing him by his own name. besides this, some one may be acting for the editor, and if he sees the packet addressed to the name of the absentee, he will not feel free to open it, but will send it to him, whereby confusion and delay, possibly loss of the manuscript, may ensue. there are six parts to every letter: the date, the complimentary address, the body of the letter, the complimentary closing, the signature, the address or superscription; thus: (date) petersburg, va., june th, . (complimentary address) james munroe, esq.: dear sir: (body of the letter) your most welcome letter, announcing your intention of visiting our city, reached me this morning. i hasten to answer to beg that you will make my house your home during your stay, and inform me by what train i may expect you, that i may meet you at the depot. leaving all else for the first conversation, (complimentary closing) i am, my dear friend, yours very truly, (_signature_) p. t. jones. (_address or superscription_) james munroe, esq., bangor, maine. the lady's toilet. perhaps, in these days of public and private baths, it may seem a work of supererogation to insist upon cleanliness as the first requisite in a lady's toilet. yet it may be as well to remind our fair readers that fastidiousness on this head cannot be carried too far. cleanliness is the outward sign of inward purity. cleanliness is health, and health is beauty. we will begin, then, with the business of the dressing-room, which can be quite well performed in three-quarters of an hour, or even less; and should at latest be achieved by eight o'clock in summer, and nine in winter. to sleep too much is as trying to the constitution as to sleep too little. to sleep too much is to render oneself liable to all kinds of minor ailments, both of mind and body. it is a habit that cannot be too severely censured, especially in the young. no mother has any right to allow her young daughters to ruin their temper, health, and complexion, by lying in bed till nine or ten o'clock. early rising conduces more to the preservation of health, freshness, and young looks, than anything in the world, and even to the proper preservation of our mental faculties. the bath is a most important object of study. it is not to be supposed that we wash in order to become clean; we wash because we wish to remain clean. the bath should be taken by a person in good health once a day in winter, and twice a day in summer. for persons of really robust constitutions, a cold shower-bath may be recommended; but as a general rule the sponge-bath is safest and most convenient. cold water refreshes and invigorates, but does not cleanse; those persons, therefore, who daily use a cold bath in the morning should frequently use a warm one at night. for cleansing purposes, the water should be of from ninety-six to one hundred degrees, or even one hundred and eight degrees; but such a bath should be sparingly indulged in, as it exhausts the physical powers. a tepid bath, varying from eighty-five to ninety-five degrees, is perhaps the safest for general use, the more particulary as it answers the purpose both of refreshing and cleansing. it is not well to remain in the bath for longer than two or three minutes. a large coarse sponge is best for the purpose. it is advisable to wet the top of the head before entering a cold bath. whether soap be used or not, it is well to apply the flesh-brush gently to the face and vigorously to the whole body. nothing improves the complexion like the daily use of the flesh-brush. when the brushing is concluded, a huck-a-back or turkish towel should be used for the final process of drying. the teeth must be scrupulously cared for. if proper care were taken of the teeth in youth, there would be less employment for the dentist in after life. the americans ruin their teeth by drinking iced drinks with hot dinners; the spanish ladies by eating sugar all day long; the mexicans by smoking cigarettes. very hot and very sweet things should be avoided. the teeth should be carefully brushed, not only night and morning, but after every meal. very hard tooth-brushes are not advisable, and a simple tooth-powder of common chalk is safer and more effectual than any quackeries. the onion, we need scarcely observe, must be the forbidden fruit of the eve of the nineteenth century. indigestible food is also certain to affect the sweetness of the breath. as soon as the breath becomes unpleasant, one may be quite sure that the digestive machinery is out of order. the nails must always be fastidiously clean, and never allowed to grow inordinately long. in the cutting of the nails, every care must be given to the preservation of the shape, and to the removal of superfluous skin. a liberal use of the nail-brush, warm water, and best windsor soap will insure the preservation of a delicate hand. gloves must of course be worn out of doors; and even in doors as much as possible. the hair requires a good deal of care, though of the simplest and most inartificial kind. the secret of fine and glossy hair is a clean hair-brush; and ladies who keep no maid to perform those offices for them should wash their hair-brushes in hot water and soda every day. every other day is the minimum of washing that a hair-brush should have. once secure the perfect cleanliness of your hair-brush, and the rest will be easy. brush the hair carefully both at night and morning; let it be occasionally cleansed with yolk of egg beaten up, or a mixture of glycerine and lime-juice, and you will find no need to resort to hair-doctors or quacks. pomade and oil are strictly to be avoided; but after a sea-water bath, or during a sea journey, a little warm pomade will be useful in softening the hair. above all things, never attempt to change the color of the hair by means of fashionable dyes and fluids. color so obtained cannot harmonize naturally with the skin, eyes, and eyebrows that nature has given. practices of this kind are simply and strictly immodest. they evince a senseless desire for fashion, and an equally senseless eagerness to attract. auricomus hair-dyes, like painted lips and cheeks, and pencilled eyebrows, and complexions purchased, are disgraceful to the wearers. with regard to the art of obtaining a good complexion, let ladies be careful in regard to diet, take regular exercise in the open air, wear broad-brimmed hats in the sun, and veils in the wind; let them avoid pearl powders and washes of every kind; let them, above all things, go early to bed, and rise betimes in the morning; and if by so doing they are not made "beautiful forever," they can never be made so. the face should never be washed when heated from exercise. wipe the perspiration from the skin, and wait until it is sufficiently cool before you bathe, even with warm water. rain-water is best for the bath. in case of any eruption upon the skin, no time should be lost in procuring medical advice. he who doctors himself, says the proverb, has a fool for his physician. with regard to dress, it is impossible to do more than offer a few general observations. the fashion of dress is for to-day; but the esthetics of dress are for all time. no matter to what absurd lengths fashion may go, a woman of taste will ever avoid the ridiculous. the milliner and dressmaker may handle the scissors never so despotically, but in matters of color, harmony, and contrast they remain under the control of their employer. dress, indeed, may fairly claim to be considered in the light of a fine art. to dress well demands something more than a full purse and a pretty figure. it requires taste, good sense, and refinement. a woman of taste and good sense will neither make dress her first nor her last object in life. she will remember that no wife should betray that total indifference for her husband's taste which is implied in the neglect of her appearance; and she will also remember that to dress consistently and tastefully is one of the duties which she owes to society. there is a spanish proverb which says, "every hair has its shadow." so. in like manner, every lady, however insignificant her social position may appear to herself, must exercise a certain influence on the feelings and opinions of others. if, therefore, the art of dressing appears either too irksome or too frivolous to such of the fair sex as are engaged in serious occupations, let them remember that it performs the same part in beautifying domestic life as is performed by music and the fine arts in embellishing the life moral and spiritual. so long, therefore, as dress merely occupies so much time and requires so much money as we are fairly entitled to allow it, nothing can be said against it. when extravagant fashions are indulged in--extravagant habits fostered at any cost--and under any circumstances--the critic is quite justified in his strictures, however severe. dress, to be in perfect taste, need not be costly; and no woman of right feeling will adorn her person at the expense of her husband's comfort or her children's education. "as a work of art, a well-dressed woman is a study." her toilet will be as _bien soignee_ and as well chosen at the family breakfast-table as at a ball. if she loves bright colors and can wear them with impunity, they will be as harmoniously arranged as the artist arranges his colors on the palette. if she is young, her dress will be youthful; if she is old, it will not affect simplicity. she will always follow rather than lead the prevailing fashion, and rather follow her own fashion than violate good taste or common sense. the golden rule in dress is to avoid extremes. do not be so original in your dress as to be peculiar; and do not affect fashions that are radically unbecoming to you. ladies that are neither very young nor very striking in appearance cannot do better than wear quiet colors. ladies who are not rich can always appear well dressed, with a little care in the choice and arrangement of the materials. whatever the texture of the dress, it should be made by the very best dressmaker you call afford. as well go to a third or fourth-rate dentist, music-master, or doctor, as go to a third or fourth-rate dressmaker. the dressmaker is a woman's good or evil genius. morning dress should be faultless in its way. for young ladies, married or unmarried, nothing is prettier in summer than white or very light morning dresses of washing materials. light dresses must be exquisitely fresh and clean, ribbons fresh, collars and cuffs irreproachable. all stuffs are to be rigidly eschewed except those of the very finest kind. morning dress for elderly ladies of wealth and position should be of dark silk. jewelry, hair ornaments, and light silk dresses are not permissible for morning wear. walking dress should always be quiet. rich walking dress attracts attention, which in the street is not desirable. for the carriage, a lady may dress as elegantly as she pleases. elderly ladies should always dress richly. any thin old lady may wear delicate colors, whilst a stout, florid person looks best in dark or gray. for young as well as old, the question of color must, however, be determined by complexion and figure. rich colors harmonize with rich brunette complexions and dark hair; delicate colors are the most suitable for delicate and fragile styles of beauty. for ball dresses, light and diaphanous materials are worn; silk dresses are not suitable for dancing. black and scarlet, black and violet, or white, are worn in mourning; but ladies in deep mourning should not go to balls at all. they must not dance, and their dark dresses look out of place in a gay assembly. at dinner parties, unless of a small, friendly kind, only the fullest dress is appropriate. demi-toilette can be worn at unceremonious dinners, and even high dresses, if the material be sufficiently rich. it is better to wear real flowers at large dinner parties, but artificial ones at balls; since the former would drop and fall to pieces with the heat and the dancing. much jewelry is out of place for young ladies at any time; and, indeed, there is as much propriety to be observed in the wearing of jewelry as in the wearing of dresses. diamonds, pearls, rubies, and all transparent precious stones belong to evening dress, and should never be worn before dinner. in the morning, one's rings should be of the simplest kind, and one's jewelry limited to a good brooch, gold chain, and watch. diamonds and pearls are as much out of place during the morning as a low dress or a wreath. it is well to remember in the choice of jewelry that mere costliness is not always the test of value; and that an exquisite work of art, such as a fine intaglio or cameo, or a natural rarity, such as a black pearl, is a possession more distingue than a large brilliant which any one who has money enough can buy as well as yourself. of all precious stones, the opal is the most lovely and commonplace. no merely vulgar woman purchases an opal. gloves, shoes, and boots must always be faultless. gloves cannot be too light for the carriage, or too dark for the streets. a woman with ill-fitting gloves cannot be said to be well dressed; while to wear soiled ones at your friend's soiree is to show her that you think lightly of herself and her company. it may be remarked, by the way, that perfumes should be used only in the evening, and with the strictest moderation. perfumes, to be tolerable, must be of the most _recherche_ kind. some people, of a sensitive temperament, would be made ill by the smell of musk or patchouli. finally, let every lady remember dr. johnson's criticism on a lady's dress: "i am sure she was well dressed," said the doctor; "for i cannot remember what she had on." the gentleman's toilet. it has been aptly said that "the bath deserves an order." the first requisite of a gentleman's toilet is undoubtedly the bath, which should be as bracing as the constitution will allow, and used morning and evening in summer, and every day in winter. country gentlemen, who live much in the open air, and take plenty of exercise, have no excuse for shirking the cold shower-bath; but denizens of cities, and men who are obliged to lead very sedentary lives, cannot indulge with equal safety in this luxury, and must never continue it in the teeth of reason and experience. only physiques of finest quality can endure, much more benefit by, a cold-water shock all the year round; and though physique is always improvable, great reformation must not be attempted rashly. let the bath of from sixty to seventy degrees be freely indulged in by the strong, and even by the less robust, in summer time; but in winter a temperature varying from eighty-five to ninety-five degrees is the safest. the flesh-brush should be vigorously applied to all parts of the body, after which the skin must be carefully dried with turkish or huck-a-back towels. it is well to remain without clothing for some little time after bathing. nothing is so healthy as exposure of the body to air and sun; a french physician has recommended the sun-bath as a desirable hygienic practice. a bath in fresh water should always be taken after a sea-dip. the next thing to be done is to clean the teeth. this should be done with a good hard tooth-brush at least twice a day. smokers should rinse the mouth immediately after smoking, and should be careful to keep the teeth scrupulously clean. the nails should also be kept exquisitely clean and short. long nails are are an abomination. our advice to those who shave is, like _punch_'s advice to those about to marry "don't." but it must by no means be understood that suffering the beard to grow is a process that obviates all trouble. the beard should be carefully and frequently washed, well trimmed, and well combed, and the hair and whiskers kept scrupulously clean by the help of clean, stiff hair-brushes, and soap and warm water. the style of the beard should be adapted to the form of the face; but any affectation in the cut of the beard and whiskers is very objectionable, and augurs unmitigated vanity in the wearer. long hair is never indulged in except by painters and fiddlers. the moustache should be worn neat, and not overlarge. beau brummell spent two hours in dressing; but a gentleman can perform all the duties of his toilet to perfection in less than half that time. a great french writer has said, with as much grace as philosophy, that the artist and man of letters needs only a black coat, and the absence of all pretension, to place him on the level of the best society. it must be observed, however, that this remark applies only to the intellectual workers, who, if they do occasionally commit a minor solecism in dress and manners, are forgiven on account of their fame and talents. it is not enough that a man should be clever, or well educated, or well born, to take his place in society; he must be acquainted with all that this chapter, and, indeed, this little volume throughout, professes to teach. a gentleman should always be so well dressed that his dress shall never be remarked at all. does this sound like an enigma? it is not meant for one. it only implies that perfect simplicity is perfect elegance, and that the true test of dress in the toilet of a gentleman is its entire harmony, unobtrusiveness, and becomingness. displays should be avoided. let a sensible man leave the graces and luxuries of dress to his wife, daughters, and sisters, and not seek distinction in the trinkets on his watch- chain, or the pattern of his waistcoat. to be too much in the fashion is as vulgar as to be too far behind it. no really well- bred man follows every new cut he sees in his tailor's fashion- book. only very young men are guilty of this folly. a man whose dress is appropriate, neat, and clean, will always look like a gentleman; but to dress appropriately, one must have a varied wardrobe. this should not, on the average, cost more than a tenth part of his income. no man can afford more than a tenth of his income for dress. the author of _pelham_ has aptly said that "a gentleman's coat should not fit too well." there is great truth and subtlety in this observation. to be fitted too well is to look like a tailor's dummy. in the morning, wear a frock coat, and trousers of light or dark color, as befits the season. when in the country or at the seaside, gray or shooting costumes are best. in the evening, though you spend it alone with your family, wear a black dress suit; and if you have sons, bring them up to do the same. it is the observance of these trifles in domestic etiquette that marks the true gentleman. for evening parties, dinner parties, and balls wear a black dress coat, black trousers, black silk or cloth waistcoat, thin patent-leather boots, a white cravat, and white kid gloves. abjure all fopperies, such as white silk linings, silk collars, etc.; above all, the shirt-front should be plain. at small, unceremonious parties, gloves are not necessary; but, when worn, they should be new and fit well. economy in gloves is an insult to society. a man's jewelry should be of the best and simplest description. false jewelry, like every other form of falsehood and pretence, is unmitigated vulgarity. elaborate studs and sleeve-links are all foppish and vulgar. a set of good studs, a gold watch and guard, and one handsome ring, are as many ornaments as a gentleman can wear with propriety. for a ring, the man of fine taste would prefer a precious antique intaglio to the handsomest diamond or ruby that could be bought. the most elegant gentleman with whom the author was ever acquainted--a man familiar with all the courts of europe--never wore any other shirt-studs in full dress than three valuable black pearls, each about the size of a pea, and by no means beautiful to look upon. lastly, a man's jewelry should always have some use, and not, like a lady's, be worn for ornament only. colored shirts may be worn in the morning; but they should be small in pattern and quiet in color. fancy cloths of conspicuous patterns are exceedingly ojectionable. with a colored flannel shirt always wear a white collar and wristbands. the hat should always be black; and caps and straw-hats are only admissible in summer. /// if spectacles are necessary, they should be of the best and lightest make, and mounted in gold, or blue steel. for weak sight, blue or smoke-colored glasses are the best; green glasses are detestable. a gentleman should never be seen in the street without gloves. worsted or cotton gloves are not permissible. a man's clothes should always be well brushed, and never threadbare or shabby. no gentleman can afford to wear shabby clothes. for the country, or the foreign tour, a gentleman will select a costume of some light woolen material, flannel shirts, thick boots, and everything to correspond. dandyism is never more out of place than on the glacier, or among the norwegian salmon fisheries. there are three things one should consult in the matter of dress if one would always appear like a gentleman--viz., expense, comfort, and society. if there is one thing in this world about which we can entertain any degree of moral certainty, it is that we must pay our tailor's bills. if, therefore, our means are disproportionate to our wants, we must remember the old proverb, "cut your coat according to your cloth," and dress as well as you possibly can upon little money. miscellaneous; or, one hundred unclassified laws of etiquette. . a gentleman must always hand a lady a chair, open the door for her to pass in or out, remove anything that may be in her way, and pick up anything she may drop, even if she is an entire stranger to him. . a gentleman or lady will never look over the shoulder of another who is either reading or writing. . no gentleman or lady will ever be guilty of personality in conversation. no wit, however keen; no sarcasm, however humorous, can make personal remarks anything but rude and vulgar. . a gentleman, in passing a lady where he must stand aside to give her space, must always remove his hat, and incline his head slightly. . a lady, in such a case, must always acknowledge the courtesy by a slight bow. . exaggeration trespasses so closely upon falsehood that it is not safe to trust it. to adhere strictly to truth can never lead into error. . conceit is the vice or folly of the shallow-minded; so if you would not be thought so avoid boasting or affectations of any kind. the truly wise man is modest, and the braggart and coxcomb are valued but little. . it is unladylike to stand with arms a-kimbo or folded. . it is a mark of low breeding to fidget either with the hands or feet; to play with the watch-chain, toss the gloves, suck the head of a cane or handle of a parasol, or to fuss with a collar or necktie. nothing is a more certain sign of gentle breeding than quiet ease without stiffness or fidgetting. . to swing the foot, or tap monotonously with the feet, to drum with the fingers on a table or window, are all breaches of etiquette. . it is ill-bred to speak of persons with whom you are but slightly acquainted by their first name. . no true lady will ever allow herself to speak of a gentleman by his surname without a prefix. to hear a lady talking of holmes or warren, instead of mr. holmes or dr. warren, gives the impression that she is low-bred. . no gentleman will ever criticize a wine offered to him, no matter how poor it may be. we give an instance of undaunted etiquette, which proves to what an extent a well-bred man may carry his courtesy: "in england during the french revolution, the duke of bedford invited the emigrant duc de grammont to a splendid dinner, one of those magnificent entertainments which englishmen pride themselves on giving to crowned heads, and their good feeling prompts them to offer to exiles. during dessert, a bottle of constantia was produced, which for age and flavor was supposed to be matchless. it was liquid gold in a crystal flagon--a ray of the sun descending into a goblet; it was nectar which was worthy of jove, and in which bacchus would have revelled. the noble head of the house of russell himself helped his guest to a glass of this choice wine, and de grammont, on tasting it, declared it to be excellent. the duke of bedford, anxious to judge of its quality, poured out a glass, which no sooner approached his lips than, with a horrible contortion, he exclaimed: 'why, what on earth is this?' the butler approached, took the bottle and applied it to his nostrils, and, to the dismay of his master, pronounced it to be castor-oil. the duc de grammont had swallowed this horrid draught without wincing." . flattery is a breach of etiquette. johnson says: "of all wild beasts, preserve me from a tyrant; and of all tame, a flatterer." . no gentleman may ever break an engagement, whether it be one of business or pleasure, with a lady, or with another gentleman. if not blessed with a retentive memory, he must carry a note-book and record therein all his appointments, guarding, by frequent reference, against making two for the same day and hour. to break an engagement with a lady is almost certain to give lasting offence, and with good cause. . irritability is a breach of good manners. watts says: "to be angry about trifles is mean and childish; to rage and be furious is brutish, and to maintain perpetual wrath is akin to the practice and temper of fiends; but to prevent and suppress rising resentment is wise and glorious, is manly and divine." . nothing marks a gentleman more truly than a strict punctuality. to keep another waiting is a breach of etiquette, as well as often a positive unkindness. . "fine feathers make fine birds," the old proverb tells us; but no amount of fine dressing will ever _make_ a lady. true politeness, gentle courtesy and refinement may be as marked in a lady wearing a calico dress and a sun-bonnet as in one in full gala dress. mrs. thorpe, the celebrated english authoress, tells of an interview with mrs. washington, than whom no more perfect lady, in the true acceptance of the term, ever lived. she says: "as mrs. washington was said to be so grand a lady, we thought we must put on our best bibs and bands; so we dressed ourselves in our most elegant ruffles and silks, and were introduced to her ladyship; and don't you think we found her knitting, and with her check apron on! she received us _very graciously and easily_; but after the compliments were over, she resumed her knitting. there we were without a stitch of work, and sitting in state; but general washinton's lady, with her own hands, was knitting stockings for her husband." . to answer a civil question rudely, or even impatiently, is a gross breach of etiquette. even if it inconveniences you or interrupts you, it will take no longer to answer kindly or politely than to wound or offend by crustiness. . no gentleman may ever refuse an apology. no matter how great the offence, how deep the resentment, an apology can never be rejected. it may not again revive friendship; but it must prevent quarrelling. . it is a breach of etiquette to intrude upon a business man during business hours. . an invalid, an elderly person, or a lady must be given the most comfortable chair in the room, must be allowed to select the light and temperature, and no true lady or gentleman will ever object to the exercise of the privilege. . it is a breach of etiquette, as well as an impertinence ever to question a child or servant upon family affairs. . it is a breach of etiquette to examine a card-basket. it is true they are generally exposed in the drawing-room; but no true lady or gentleman will ever turn them over. . it is a breach of etiquette to consult a watch when in company. to do so, and then take leave, is an absolute impertinence, as a pleasant circle may be broken at an early hour, under the impression that "it must be late; mr. c--- hurried away so, when he saw what time it was." . it is a breach of etiquette when in company to try to attract the attention of one person by signals, a cough, a poke, or a nudge. any appearance, indeed, of privacy or mystery is rude in company. . it is a breach of etiquette to assume a lazy, lounging attitude in company. if any one is too weak or too ill to sit up and assume a proper position, he had better stay at home until he is stronger or in better health. . mysterious allusions are rude. . it is a breach of etiquette, in general conversation, to refer to incidents known to only one of the company, thus forcing a species of _tete-a-tete_, and withdrawing a perhaps unwilling partner from the general society. . cards of ceremony must be answered either by a call, a letter, or a return card, within a week after their reception. . new-year's calls must be made in person. it is a breach of etiquette to send a card, unless prevented by illness from calling. . never rise to take leave in the midst of an interesting conversation; wait until there is a pause, and then withdraw, with as little disturbance as possible. . if you are calling, and another person enters, never offer the chair assigned you by the lady of the house; it is her privilege to decide where to place her guests, and an impertinence on your part to usurp her place. . a gentleman will never talk of his business affairs to a lady, nor a lady weary her gentlemen friends by an account of her domestic affairs. . the only gifts that may be offered or accepted between ladies and gentlemen who are not related or engaged are books, flowers, music, or confectionary. a lady who accepts costly presents of jewelry puts herself under an obligation that she may find troublesome, and no true gentleman will expose a lady to the pain of refusing an improper gift of this kind. . in entering a room filled with people, it is etiquette to bow slightly, as a general salutation, before speaking to each of those assembled. . it is etiquette, before taking a place at table, to say "good- morning," or "good-evening," to those in the room before you, and especially to those who preside over the meal. . it is a breach of etiquette to go into company with the breath tainted by eating onions, garlic, cheese, or any other strong- scented food. . it is a breach of etiquette for a gentleman to enter a lady's presence smelling of tobacco or wine. . it is a breach of etiquette to send a present hoping for another. . it is a breach of etiquette ever to refer to a gift you have made, a favor you have granted, or an obligation of any kind under which another lies with regard to you. . it is a breach of etiquette, and shows a sad want of true delicacy, to return a gift very soon. an obligation of that kind, if accepted at all, must not be thrust back at once in the donor's face. . it is a breach of etiquette for a husband or wife to speak of each other by their initial letter. when you hear a lady saying, "b., gave me this," or a gentleman saying, "i always refer such matters to mrs. p.," you may rest assured, whatever their social station, they are low-bred. . "civility," says lord chesterfield, "is particularly due to all women; and remember that no provocation whatsoever can justify any man in not being civil to every woman; and the greatest man would justly be reckoned a brute if he were not civil to the meanest woman. it is due to their sex, and is the only protection they have against the superior strength of ours." . too great familiarity towards a new acquaintance is a breach of etiquette. you are less likely to offend by being too ceremonious. . to notice, by look or word, any deformity, any scar of misfortune to the face or figure of a friend, in not only a breach of etiquette of the grossest kind, but is a want of humanity and good feeling as well. . it is a breach of etiquette, when offering a gift, to represent it as valueless, or useless to yourself. "if you do not have it, the pigs will," is a homely old proverb in such cases, not acceptable in polite society. . it is a breach of etiquette to laugh at your own wit. if others will not do that for you, you had better let your remark pass unnoticed. . it is a breach of etiquette to lean heavily upon a table; and also to tip a chair to and fro when you are talking; and you will be justly punished if you find yourself sprawling on the floor with the chair on top of you. . it is a breach of etiquette to write your own remarks in a borrowed book. . _scolding_ is ill-bred. . it is a breach of etiquette for a gentleman to keep his hat on when handing a lady to a carriage. . the man who will insult his inferiors is a boor at heart, however polished he may appear amongst his equals, or however deferential to his superiors. . it is a breach of etiquette to display any bashfulness in company. lord chesterfield says: "as for the _mauvaise honte_, i hope you are above it. your figure is like other people's; i suppose you will care that your dress shall be so too, and to avoid any singularity. what, then, should you be ashamed of? and why not go into a mixed company with as much ease and as little concern as you would go into your own room? vice and ignorance are the only things i know which one ought to be ashamed of; keep clear of them, and you may go anywhere without fear or concern. i have known some people who, from feeling the pain and inconvenience of this _mauvaise honte_, have rushed into the other extreme, and turned impudent, as cowards sometimes grow desperate from the excess of danger; but this, too, is carefully to be avoided, there being nothing more generally shocking than impudence. the medium between the two extremes marks out the well- bred man; he feels himself firm and easy in all companies; is modest without being bashful, and steady without being impudent; if he is a stranger, he observes with care the manners and ways of the people most esteemed at that place, and conforms to them with complaisance." . it is a breach of etiquette to wear an air of abstraction in society if your mind is really so absorbed that you cannot pay attention to what is going on around you, you had better stay at home. an absent mind is much more frequently a proof of self- conceit than of genius. . eccentricity of any kind is in bad taste. . to imitate the manners, voice, attitude, or gestures of great men were a folly almost too absurd to mention if it were not so common. many persons, from a real or fancied personal resemblance to some celebrity, will ape their manners also, as if mere appearance would make them equally distinguished. . it is wiser, if you have met with reverses, to withdraw yourself from society than to have society withdraw from you. . it is a breach of etiquette to assume pedantic airs; to talk of the latin and greek authors, and quote in those languages. . it is a breach of etiquette to make a quotation in a foreign language and then translate it, thereby giving your listeners to understand that you do not consider them as well informed as yourself. . shakespeare says: "to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." . it is a breach of etiquette to contradict any one. . the man who would suffer himself to speak a word against a woman, or to rail at women generally, deserves a rebuke recently given to a coxcomb at an english dinner-party, who was checked in his loud abuse of the sex by one of the company, who said: "i hope it is the gentleman's own mother and sisters who are referred to, and not ours." . if you try to make yourself appear more important than you really are, you run the risk of being considered less so. . marston says: "i, me, and mine, should be bowed out of genteel circles. egotism adorns no one." . it is a breach of etiquette to offer a partner in dancing an ungloved hand. . spitting is as vulgar as it is disgusting. . "the scholar, without good breeding, is a pedant; the philosopher, a cynic; the soldier, a brute; and every man disagreeable," says chesterfield. . it is a breach of etiquette to betray an implied or involuntary confidence, even if you have not been bound to secresy. . bishop beveridge says: "never speak of a man's virtues before his face, nor of his faults behind his back." . "in private, watch your thoughts; in your family, watch your temper; in society, watch your tongue." . "to arrive at the heart of true courtesy," says a modern writer, "separate the onld english titles for the well-bred; they were the _gentle_-man and _gentle_-woman." . it is better to live alone than in low company. if you cannot keep good company, keep none. . sterne thus defines courtship: "true courtship consists in a number of quiet, gentlemanly attentions; not so pointed as to alarm, not so vague as to be misunderstood." . it is a breach of etiquette to enter a room noisily, slamming the door, or stamping heavily upon the floor. . it is a breach of etiquette to make violent or abrupt movements. . it is a breach of etiquette to neglect calling upon your friends. "visiting," says a french writer, "forms the chord which binds society together, and it is so firmly tied that were the knot severed, society would perish." . it is a breach of etiquette to select the route when walking with a lady, unless she has requested you to do so. . it is ill-bred to refuse the last piece on the plate or dish, if it is offered to you, as it implies a fear that there is no more in the pantry. . it is a breach of etiquette to undertake any commission for a friend and neglect to perform it. forgetfulness is no excuse. . it is a breach of etiquette to answer a serious remark by a flippant one. . practical joking is a breach of etiquette that cannot be too severely censured. . it is a breach of etiquette to read when there is any other person present. in the family circle, a member who opens a book should apologize for and explain his apparent rudeness, if obliged to study or refer to the volume. . it is a breach of etiquette to yawn. . it is a breach of etiquette to blow the nose loudly. . it is a breach of etiquette to suck the teeth. . it is a breach of etiquette to pick the teeth or clean the nails in company. . it is a breach of etiquette to speak much of your own performances. . it is a gross breach of etiquette to pass between two persons who are conversing together. . it is a breach of etiquette to pass _before_ anybody. if actually necessary, it must be done with an apology. . it is a breach of etiquette to urge wine upon a guest who has already declined to drink. . it is a breach of etiquette to write a letter of congratulation upon mourning paper, even if it is habitually used. . it is a breach of etiquette to call a new acquaintance by the christian name, unless requested to do so. . if you write requesting an autograph, it is a breach of etiquette to omit to enclose a postage-stamp for the reply. . ladies should avoid the use of strong perfumes. they are unpleasant to nauseating to some persons; and it is a breach of etiquette to annoy other people. . it is a breach of etiquette to lend a borrowed book, unless you have the special permission of the owner to do so. . it is a breach of etiquette, as well as a most dangerous experiment, to recommend remedies to an invalid who is under the care of a physician. . a lady commits a breach of etiquette that amounts to a gross impropriety by calling upon a gentleman, excepting upon business, at his place of business. even relatives, unless in the immediate family, cannot receive calls from ladies at home. . gentlemen should never stand upon the hearthrug with their backs to the fire, either in a friend's house or their own. . forgetfulness is a breach of etiquette. it is impossible to be polite without cultivating a good memory. the absent or self- absorbed person who forgets the names of his next-door neighbors, recalls unlucky topics, confuses the personal relationships of his personal friends, speaks of the dead as if they were still living, talks of peole in their hearing, and commits a hundred such blunders without any malevolent intention, is sure to make enemies for himself, and to wound the feelings of others. carelessness, carried to a certain pitch, becomes unchristian. "it is not well," says an old proverb, "to talk of the gallows to a man whose father was hanged." some persons are so notoriously absent or forgetful, that their friends will say of them: "we must not tell b---; he is certain to tread on somebody's corns. we must ask him some evening when we are alone." end george washington's rules of civility traced to their sources and restored by moncure d. conway inscribed to my son _eustace conway_ the rules of civility. among the manuscript books of george washington, preserved in the state archives at washington city, the earliest bears the date, written in it by himself, . washington was born february , o.s., so that while writing in this book he was either near the close of his fourteenth, or in his fifteenth, year. it is entitled "forms of writing," has thirty folio pages, and the contents, all in his boyish handwriting, are sufficiently curious. amid copied forms of exchange, bonds, receipts, sales, and similar exercises, occasionally, in ornate penmanship, there are poetic selections, among them lines of a religious tone on "true happiness." but the great interest of the book centres in the pages headed: "rules of civility and decent behaviour in company and conversation." the book had been gnawed at the bottom by mount vernon mice, before it reached the state archives, and nine of the rules have thus suffered, the sense of several being lost. the rules possess so much historic interest that it seems surprising that none of washington's biographers or editors should have given them to the world. washington irving, in his "life of washington," excites interest in them by a tribute, but does not quote even one. sparks quotes , but inexactly, and with his usual literary manipulation; these were reprinted ( , °) by w.o. stoddard, at denver, colorado; and in hale's "washington" ( ). i suspect that the old biographers, more eulogistic than critical, feared it would be an ill service to washington's fame to print all of the rules. there might be a scandal in the discovery that the military and political deity of america had, even in boyhood, written so gravely of the hat-in-hand deference due to lords, and other "persons of quality," or had concerned himself with things so trivial as the proper use of the fork, napkin, and toothpick. something is said too about "inferiours," before whom one must not "act ag'tt y'e rules moral." but in the rules were subjected to careful and literal treatment by dr. j.m. toner, of washington city, in the course of his magnanimous task of preserving, in the library of congress, by exact copies, the early and perishing note-books and journals of washington. this able literary antiquarian has printed his transcript of the rules (w.h. morrison: washington, d.c. ), and the pamphlet, though little known to the general public, is much valued by students of american history. with the exception of one word, to which he called my attention, dr. toner has given as exact a reproduction of the rules, in their present damaged condition, as can be made in print. the illegible parts are precisely indicated, without any conjectural insertions, and young washington's spelling and punctuation subjected to no literary tampering. concerning the source of these remarkable rules there have been several guesses. washington irving suggests that it was probably his intercourse with the fairfax family, and his ambition to acquit himself well in their society, that set him upon "compiling a code of morals and manners." (knickerbocker ed. i. p. .) sparks, more cautiously, says: "the most remarkable part of the book is that in which is compiled a system of maxims and regulations of conduct, drawn from miscellaneous sources." (i. p. .) dr. toner says: "having searched in vain to find these rules in print, i feel justified, considering all the circumstances, in assuming that they were compiled by george washington himself when a schoolboy. but while making this claim it is proper to state, that nearly all the principles incorporated and injunctions, given in these maxims had been enunciated over and over again in the various works on good behaviour and manners prior to this compilation and for centuries observed in polite society. it will be noticed that, while the spirit of these maxims is drawn chiefly from the social, life of europe, yet, as formulated here, they are as broad as civilization itself, though a few of them are especially applicable to society as it then existed in america, and, also, that but few refer to women." except for the word "parents," which occurs twice, dr. toner might have said that the rules contain no allusion whatever to the female sex. this alone proved, to my own mind, that washington was in nowise responsible for these rules. in the school he was attending when they were written there were girls; and, as he was rather precocious in his admirations, a compilation of his own could hardly omit all consideration of conduct towards ladies, or in their presence. there were other reasons also which led me to dissent from my friend dr. toner, in this instance, and to institute a search, which has proved successful, for the source of the rules of civility. while gathering materials for a personal and domestic biography of washington,[ ] i discovered that in he was attending school in fredericksburg, virginia. the first church (st. george's) of the infant town was just then finished, and the clergyman was the rev. james marye, a native of france. it is also stated in the municipal records of the town that its first school was taught by french people, and it is tolerably certain that mr. marye founded the school soon after his settlement there as rector, which was in , eight years after the foundation of fredericksburg. i was thus led to suspect a french origin of the rules of civility. this conjecture i mentioned to my friend dr. garnett, of the british museum, and, on his suggestion, explored an old work in french and latin in which ninety-two of the rules were found. this interesting discovery, and others to which it led, enable me to restore the damaged manuscript to completeness. [footnote : george washington and mount vernon. a collection of washington's unpublished agricultural and personal letters. edited, with historical and genealogical introduction, by moncure daniel conway. published by the l.i. historical society: brooklyn, new york, .] the various intrinsic interest of these rules is much enhanced by the curious story of their migration from an old jesuit college in france to the copy-book of george washington. in backer's jesuit bibliography it is related that the "pensionnaires" of the college of la flèche sent to those of the college at pont-à-mousson, in , a treatise entitled: "bienseance de la conversation entre les hommes." the great mussipontane father at that time was léonard périn (b. at stenai , d. at besançon ), who had been a professor of the humanities at paris. by order of nicolas françois, bishop of toul, father périn translated the la flèche treatise into latin, adding a chapter of his own on behaviour at table. the book, dedicated to the bishop of toul, was first printed ( °) at pont-à-mousson in , (by car. marchand). it was printed at paris in , and at rouen in ; it was translated into spanish, german, and bohemian. in one nitzmann printed the latin, german, and bohemian translations in parallel columns, the german title being "wolstand taglicher gemainschafft mit dem menschen." a comparison of this with the french edition of in the british museum, on which i have had to depend, shows that there had been no alteration in father périn's latin, though it is newly translated. this copy in the library of the british museum was printed in paris for the college of clermont, and issued by pierre de bresche, "auec privilege du roy." it is entitled: "les maximes de la gentillesse et de l'honnesteté en la conversation entre les hommes. communis vitæ inter homines scita urbanitas. par un père de la compagnie de jesus." in dedicating this new translation ( ) to the youth of clermont, pierre de bresche is severe on the french of the la flèche pensionnaires. "it is a novelty surprising enough to find a very unpolished french book translated into the most elegant latin ever met with." m. de bresche declares that he was no longer able to leave so beautiful a work in such "abjection," and had added a translation which preserves the purity of the french tongue, and is proportioned to the merit of the exquisite latin expressions. we can hardly suppose that pierre de bresche was eulogising his own work, but there is no other name in the book. possibly his criticism on the french of the original edition was only that of an _editeur_ desiring to supplant it. at any rate, as father périn wrote the elegant latin we cannot doubt that the chapter he added to the book was in scholarly french. the old book of the jesuit "pensionnaires,"--which, had they not ignored woman, might be called the mother of all works on civility,--is charming as well as curious. it duly opens with a chapter of religious proprieties, at mass, sacrament, sermon, and grace at meat. the maxims of secular civility open with the second chapter, and it will be seen that they are for the gentry. they are mainly for youths whose environments are portrayed in the interesting frontispiece of the work, where they are seen in compartments,--at church, in college, in conversation, at the fireside, in promenade, and at table. we have already seen, from backer's jesuit bibliography, that father léonard périn added a chapter on "bienséance" at table; but after this there is another chapter--a wonderful chapter--and it would be interesting to learn whether we owe this also to périn. this last chapter is exquisitely epicurean, dealing with table-setting, table-service, and the proper order of entrees, roasts, salads, and dessert. it closes--and the book closes--with a sort of sugarplum paean, the sweets and spices being in the end gracefully spiritualised. but this concluding passage of chapter xi. ("des services & honneurs de la table") must be quoted:-- "sugar-plums complete the pleasantness and enjoyment of the dessert, and serve, as it were, to satisfy pleasure. they are brought, while the table is still laid, in a handsome box on a salver, like those given by the ancients to be carried home.[ ] sometimes, also, they are handed round after the hands have been washed in rose water, and the table covered with a turkey cloth. "these are riches which we possess in abundance, and your feasts cannot terminate more agreeably in your quarters than with our verdun sugar-plums. besides the exquisite delicacy of their sugar, cinnamon and aniseed, they possess a sweet, fragrant odour like the breeze of the canaries,--that is to say, like our sincerest attachment for you, of which you will also receive proof. thus you see, then, the courteous advice we have undertaken to give you to serve for a profitable entertainment, if you please, then, we will bring it to a close, in order to devote ourselves more zealously to other duties which will contribute to your satisfaction, and prove agreeable to all those who truly esteem good-breeding and decent general conversation, as we ardently hope. "praise be to god and to the glorious virgin!"[ ] * * * * * [footnote : this is not unknown at some of the civic banquets in london.] [footnote : "les dragées acheuent la douceur de la resjoüissance du dessert & font comme l'assouuissement du plaisir. elles sont portées dans vne belle boêtte posées sur vn plat, les tables restans encore dressées à la façon de celles que les anciens donnoient à emporter en la maison. quelquefois aussi les mains estants desia lauées auec l'eau-rose, & la table couuerte de son tapis de turquie, elle sont presentées. "ce sont des richesses que nous possedons en abondance & vos festins ne se peuuent pas termíner plus agreablement que par nos dragées de verdun en vos quartiers. elles ont parmy les charmantes delicatesses de leur succre, de leur canelle, & de leur anis, vne douce & suaue odeur qui égale celles de l'air de nos canaries, c'est à dire de nos plus sinceres inclinations en vostre endroit dont vous receuerez de mesme les tesmoignages. vous voyez donc icy les advis de la ciuilité que nous auons entrepris de vous donner, pour vous servir d'vn fructueux divertissement. nous les finissons donc si vous le trouuiez agreable, pour nous porter auec plus de zele aux autres deuoirs qui contribuëront à vostre satisfaction, & qui seront agreables à touts les veritables estimateurs de la bien-seance & de l'honnesteté de la conuersation commune, comme nous le soutraitions auec passion. "loüange à dieu & à la glorieuse vierge."] the earlier editions of the book do not appear to have been published for the outer world, but were printed in the various colleges where they were used. another french work on the same subject, but including much about ladies, published about the year , plagiarises largely from the jesuit manual, but does not mention it. it is probable therefore that the périn volume was not then known to the general public. the anonymous book just mentioned was translated into english.[ ] some of the phraseology of the perin book, and many of its ideas, appear in a work of obadiah walker, master of university college, oxford, on education, but it is not mentioned.[ ] eighteen of the washington rules, and an important addition to another, are not among the french maxims. two of these rules, and , are more damaged than any others in the washington ms., and i had despaired of discovering their meaning. but after my translations were in press i learned from dr. w.c. minor that an early english version of the maxims existed, and in this i have found additions to the french, work which substantially include those of the washington ms. through this fortunate discovery the rules of civility are now completely restored. [footnote : "the rules of civility, or certain ways of deportment observed amongst all persons of quality upon seueral occasions." the earliest edition i have found is that of (in the british museum library), which is said to be "newly revised and much enlarged." the work is assigned a french origin on internal evidence,--e.g., other nations than france are referred to as "foreign," and "monsieur" is used in examples of conversation. the date is approximately fixed as , because it is said that while it was in press there had appeared "the education of a young prince." the latter work was a translation of "de i'education d'un prince. par le sieur de chanteresne" [p. nicole], by pierre du moulin, the younger, and published in london, .] [footnote : of education. especially of young gentlemen. in two parts. the fifth impression. oxford: published at the theatre for amos custeyne. . [it was anonymous, but is known to be by obadiah walker, master of university college, oxford.]] the version just alluded to purports to be by a child in his eighth year. it was first printed in (london), but the earliest edition in the british museum, where alone i have been able to find a copy, is that of , which is described as the fourth edition.[ ] the cover is stamped in gilt, "gift of g. iii." the translations are indeed rude, and sometimes inaccurate as to the sense, but that they were the unaided work of a child under eight is one of the "things hard to be believed" which a maxim admonishes us not to tell. in the edition of there is a portrait of master hawkins at the age of eight, and the same picture appears in as the same person at ten. moreover, in an edition of the "bookseller," in an address "to the reader," seems rather vague in several statements. "a counsellor of the middle temple, in , added twenty-five new precepts marked thus (*) at which time a gentleman of _lincoln's_-inn turned the book into latine." there are, however, in this edition thirty-one precepts not in the french work, and of these twenty-six are in the edition of . the latin version appended (signed h.b.) is exactly that of father périn, with the exception of a few words, considerable omissions, and the additional precepts. the additions are all evidently by a mature hand. [footnote : "youth's behaviour, or decency in conversation amongst men. composed in french by grave persons for the use and benefit of their youth. now newly translated into english by francis hawkins. the fourth edition, with the addition of twenty-sixe new precepts (which are marked thus *) london. printed by w. wilson for w. lee, and are to be sold at the _turks-head_ neere the _miter taverne_ in _fleetstreet_. ." there are some lines "in laudem authoris" by j.s., and the following:--"gentle reader,--thinke it not amisse to peruse this peece, yet connive at the style: for it hath neede thereof, since wrought by an uncouth and rough file of one greene in yeares; as being aged under eight. hence, worthy reader, shew not thy self too-too-rigid a censurer. this his version is little dignified, and therefore likely will it appears to thee much imperfect. it ought to be his own, or why under the title is his name written? peradventure thou wilt say, what is it to me? yet heare: such is it really, as that i presume the author may therein be rendred faithfully: with this courteously be then satisfied.--this small treatise in its use, will evidently appear to redound to the singular benefit of many a young spirit, to whom solely and purposely it is addressed. passe it therefore without mistake and candidly."] with the hawkins volume of is bound, in the british museum library, a companion work, entitled, "the second part of youth's behaviour, or decency in conversation amongst women. ." this little book is apparently by robert codrington, whose name is signed to its remarkable dedicatory letter: "to the mirrour of her sex mrs. ellinor pargiter, and the most accomplished with all reall perfections mrs. elizabeth washington, her only daughter, and heiress to the truly honourable laurence washington esquire, lately deceased." this was laurence washington of garsden, wilts., who married elianor. second daughter of wm. gyse; their only child, a daughter, having married robert shirley, earl ferrars. laurence washington died jan. , , and his widow married sir william pargiter.[ ] [footnote : see "an examination of the english ancestry of george washington. by henry f. waters, a.m., boston. new england historic genealogical society, ."] in a letter to the new york _nation_ ( th june ), i said: "though my theory, that the rev. james marye taught washington these 'rules,' has done good service in leading to the discovery of their origin, it cannot be verified, unless the clergyman's descendants have preserved papers in which they can be traced." i have since learned from the family that no such papers exist. the discovery just mentioned, that a part second of youth's behaviour was published in , and dedicated to two ladies of the washington family in england, lends force to dr. minor's suggestion that washington might have worked out his rules from the hawkins version. it would be natural that part ii. so dedicated should be preserved in the virginia family, and should be bound up with part i., published the year before, as it is bound in the british museum. it is certain that one of the later editions of the hawkins version was used in the preparation of washington's "rules," for the eighteen rules not in the french book are all from "youth's behaviour" ( ). moreover, the phraseology is sometimes the same, and one or two errors of translation follow the hawkins version. _e.g._, maxim ii. begins: "prenez garde de vous échauffer trop au jeu, & aux emportements qui s'y eleuet." the second clause, a warning against being too much carried away by excitements of play, is rendered by hawkins, "contend not, nor speake louder than thou maist with moderation;" and in the washington ms., "affect not to speak louder than ordenary." a careful comparison, however, of washington's rules with the hawkins version renders it doubtful whether the virginia boy used the work of the london boy. the differences are more than the resemblances. if in some cases the faults of the washington version appear gratuitous, the printed copy being before him, on the other hand it often suggests a closer approach to the french--of which language washington is known to have been totally ignorant. as to the faults, where hawkins says ceremonies "are too troublesome," washington says they "is troublesome;" where the former translates correctly that one must not approach where "another readeth a letter," washington has "is writing a letter;" where he writes "infirmityes" washington has "infirmaties;" the printed "manful" becomes "manfull," and "courtesy" "curtesie." among the variations which suggest a more intimate knowledge of french idioms than that of hawkins the following may be mentioned. the first maxim with which both versions open is: "que toutes actions qui se font publiquement fassent voir son sentiment respectueux à toute la compagnie." hawkins: "every action done in view of the world ought to be accompanied with some signe of reverence which one beareth to all who are present." washington: "every action done in company ought to be with some sign of respect to those that are present." here the restoration of "respectueux," and the limitation of "publiquement" by "compagnie," make the latter rendering much neater. in maxim viii. , which admonishes one not to be angry at table, it is said, "bien si vous vous fâchez," you are not to show it. hawkins translates "if so bee thou bee vexed;" but washington more finely, "if you have reason to be so, shew it not." or compare the following versions of "si vous vous reposez chez vous, ayãt quelque siege, faites en sorte de traiter chacun selõ son merite." hawkins: "if there be anything for one to sit on, be it a chair, be it a stool, give to each one his due." washington: "when you present seats let it be to every one according to his degree." rule , for "moderation et douceur" has "sweetness and mildness," hawkins only "sweetness." again: "si vous rencontrez ioliment, si vous donnez quelque bon-mot, en faisant rire les autres, empeschez-vous-en, le plus qu'il vous sera possible." hawkins: "when so it falleth out that thou deliver some happy lively an jolly conceit abstaine thou, and let others laugh." washington: "if you deliver anything witty and pleasent abtain from laughing thereat yourself." yet how curt is the version last quoted, and how blundering the sentence! washington's spelling was always faulty, but it is not characteristic of him to write "abtain" for "abstain." this is one of many signs of haste, suggesting that his pen was following oral instruction. the absence of punctuation is normal; in some cases words have dropped out: such clerical mistakes occur as "eys," "but" for "put," "top" for "of," "whth" for "without," and "affection" for "affectation"--the needed letters being in the last case interlined. except as regards punctuation, no similar errors occur in any manuscript from washington's hand, either in youth or age. another reason for supposing that he may have been following an instructor is the excessive abbreviation. it was by no means characteristic of washington to suppress details, but here his condensation sometimes deprives maxims of something of their force, if not of their sense. _e.g._, rule : "never express anything unbecoming, nor act against the rules moral before your inferiours." _cf._ hawkins: "never expresse anything unbeseeming, nor act against the rules morall, before thy inferiours, for in these things, thy own guilt will multiply crimes by example, and as it were, confirme ill by authority." and "shift not yourself in the sight of others" hardly does duty for the precept, "it is insufferable impoliteness to stretch the body, extend the arms, and assume different postures." there are, however, but few instances in which the sense of the original has been lost; indeed, the rendering of the washington ms. is generally an improvement on the original, which is too diffuse, and even more an improvement on the hawkins version. indeed, although washington was precocious,--a surveyor at seventeen,--it would argue qualities not hitherto ascribed to him were we to suppose that, along with his faulty grammar and spelling, he was competent at fourteen for such artistic selection and prudent omission as are shown by a comparison of his rules with the much longer ones of the english version. the omission of religious passages, save the very general ones with which the rules close, and of all scriptural ones, is equally curious whether we refer the rules to young washington or to the rector who taught him. but it would be of some significance if we suppose the boy to have omitted the precept to live "peeceably in that vocation unto which providence hath called thee;" and still more that he should have derived nothing from the following: "do not think thou canst be a friend to the king whilst thou art an enemy to god: if thy crying iniquity should invite god's judgments to the court, it would cost thy soveraigne dear, to give them entertainment." if washington was acquainted with part ii. of "youth's behaviour," relating to women and dedicated to ladies of the washington race, it is remarkable that no word relating to that sex is found among his rules.[ ] [footnote : in the edition of hawkins ( ) bound up with part ii. in the british museum (bearing on the cover the name and arms of the "hon'ble thos. greville") there is just one precept concerning women: "if thou art yet unmarried, but intendest to get thee a wife modest, rather than beautiful, meddle not with those ladies of the game, who make pageants of their cheeks, and shops of their shoulders, and (contrary to all other trades) keep open their windows on the sabbath-day, impudently exposing their nakedness to the view of a whole congregation," &c. there are, in an appendix, pictures of a puritanically shrouded "virtue," and a "vice" who, apart from the patches on her face, singularly resembles a portrait of pretty lady ferrars in codrington's book (_ante_, p. ) ed. .] on the whole, though it is very uncertain, the balance of probabilities seems to favour the theory that the rules of civility, found in a copy-book among school exercises, exceedingly abbreviated, and marked by clerical errors unusual with washington, were derived from the oral teachings of his preceptor; that this frenchman utilised (and was once or twice misled by) the english version along with the original, which had been used as a manual in his rouen college. the marie family of rouen,--from which came the maryes of virginia,--is distinguished both in catholic and huguenot annals. among the eminent jesuit authors was pierre marie, who was born at rouen, , and died at bourges, . he was author of "la sainte solitude; ou les entretiens solitaires de l'ame," and of "la science du crucifix: en forme de méditations." the family was divided by the huguenot movement, and a protestant branch took root in england. concerning the latter, agnew (_french protestant exiles_, i. p. ) gives the following information:-- "jean marie, pasteur of lion-sur-mer, was a refugee in england from the st. bartholomew massacre. he is supposed to have belonged to the same family as the huguenot martyr, marin marie, a native of st. george in the diocese of lisieux. it was in the year that that valiant man, who had become a settler in geneva, was arrested at sens when on a missionary journey to france, laden with a bale of bibles and new testaments, and publications for the promotion of the protestant reformation; he was burnt at paris, in the place maubert, on the d of august of that year. our pasteur was well received in england, and was sent to norwich, of which city he appears to have been the first french minister. he was lent to the reformed churches of france when liberty of preaching revived, and so returned to normandy, where we find him in . the first national synod of vitré held its meetings in that year, between the th and th of may. quick's 'synodicon' (vol. i. p. ) quotes the following minute:--'our brother, monsieur marie, minister of the church of norwich in england, but living at present in normandy, shall be obliged to return unto his church upon its first summons; yet, because of the great success of his ministry in these parts, his church may be entreated to continue for some longer time his absence from it.' he certainly did return to norwich, because on th april the manuscript book of discipline was submitted to the consistory for signature; and jan marie signed first, and his colleague m. basnage, second. one of his sons, nathaniel marie, became one of the pasteurs of the london french church, and married st, ester, daughter of the pasteur guillaume de laune, and dly (in ), ester le hure, widow of andré joye. the norwich pasteur had probably another son named after himself, a commercial residenter in his native city; for two sons of a jan marie were baptized in norwich french church: ( ) jan on d february , and ( ) pierre, on th july . madame marie, probably the pasteur's widow, was a witness at the first baptism." james marye, with whom we are particularly concerned, sprang from the catholic family, and was born at rouen near the close of the seventeenth century. he was educated for the priesthood, no doubt at the jesuit college in rouen,--where, as we have seen, father périn's book on manners was printed in . however, james marye abjured the catholic religion in . this caused a breach between himself and the family, which consisted of a widowed mother and her two other sons,--peter and william (the latter an officer), both of whose names however, reappeared in their protestant brother's family. in consequence of this alienation james migrated to england, where he pursued his studies, and was ordained by the bishop of london. in he married letitia maria anne staige. she was a sister of the rev. theodosius staige, who was already in virginia. for that colony the rev. james marye also embarked, in , with his bride. their first child (lucy) was born during the voyage. it would appear that the purpose of this emigration was to minister to a settlement of french huguenots at monacan (or manakintown, as it was called) on james river. the first band of these refugees had gone over in , under the leadership of olivier de la muce, and others had followed in , with their clergyman, phillipe de richebourg. the assembly of virginia gave them a large tract of land in henrico county--not far from where richmond now stands--exempting them from taxation. the name of james marye first appears in virginia ( ) as christening a child in king william parish, as it was called,--after the king who had favoured this huguenot colony. in the town of fredericksburg was founded. in i col. byrd visited the place, and wrote: "besides col. willis, who is the top man of the place, there are only one merchant, a tailor, a smith, an ordinary keeper, and a lady who acts both as a doctress and coffeewoman." this "col. willis" had married washington's aunt (and godmother), and there were other families of the neighbourhood connected with the washingtons. it was not until that captain augustine washington (the general's father) went to reside near fredericksburg. soon after the birth of george (feb. , old style) the family left their homestead in westmoreland county, virginia, and resided on their farm, now known as "mount vernon." (it was so named by washington's elder half-brother, lawrence, who built the mansion, in - , in honour of the english admiral vernon, with whom he served as an officer at carthagena.) although he nowhere alludes to the fact, george washington's earliest memories, as i have elsewhere shown[ ], were associated with the estate on which he lavished so much devotion, and which the ladies' mount vernon association has made his most characteristic monument. the rev. jonathan boucher, teacher of mrs. george washington's son john custis, says that washington was "taught by a convict servant whom his father had bought for a schoolmaster." this was probably one of a shipload of convicts brought by captain augustine washington from england in . when the family removed to the neighbourhood of fredericksburg (from which, however, they were separated by the rappahannock river), the children went to school (probably) at falmouth,--a village fifty years older than fredericksburg, and about two miles above, on the opposite side of the river. a church had been erected in falmouth (brunswick parish), but that in fredericksburg was not completed until some years later. after the death of his father (april , ) george was sent to reside with his half-brother augustine, at "wakefield," the old homestead in westmoreland where he was born. he returned to live with his mother near fredericksburg, in . that he then went to school in fredericksburg appears by a manuscript left by col. byrd willis, grandson of col. harry willis, founder of the town, in which he states that his father, lewis willis was washington's schoolmate. the teachers name is not given, but there can be little doubt that it was james marye. [footnote : george washington and mount vernon. introduction, p. xxvii.] the rev. james marye's brother-in-law, rev. theodosius staige, had for a time preached in the temporary structure in which the congregation of st. george's, fredericksburg, met before the church was completed. it was probably during a visit to mr. staige that mr. marye made an impression on the people of that place. at any rate the early vestry-book shows that, in , the churchwardens, after the colonial custom, asked leave of the governor of virginia to call james marye to their pulpit, and it was granted. he is described as "mr. marie of st. james," being then officiating at st james church, northam parish (goochland county, virginia). at what time and why he left manakintown is not clear. he fixed his first abode eight miles out of fredericksburg, in a place which he called "fayetteville;" and it is not improbable that some of his huguenot congregation had come with him, and attempted to found there a village. several infant churches in the county (spottsylvania), besides that of fredericksburg, were under supervision of the rector of st. george's parish. the rev. james marye remained in active and successful ministry at fredericksburg from until his death, in . he founded the large virginia family which bears his name, and which has always had eminent representatives. on his death he was succeeded in st. george's church, fredericksburg, by his son of the same name, whose honourable tradition was maintained. his great-grandson, john l. marye,--whose mansion, "brompton," stood on "marye's heights," so famous in the civil war,--was an eminent lawyer; as also is a son of the latter, john l. marye jr., former lieutenant-governor of virginia.[ ] the founder of the virginia maryes, who should be ranked among american worthies, was an eloquent clergyman, and built up a noble congregation in fredericksburg. he was also an accomplished gentleman and a scholar. that he founded and taught the school is tolerably certain. the municipal records, as we have seen, ascribe the school a french origin. the name and condition of every respectable resident of fredericksburg, at the time of his settling there, when it was little more than a "paper town" (in colonial phrase), is known. there was in the place no one--certainly no "frenchman"--except marye who could have taught a school of such importance as that at fredericksburg. for it presently became known throughout virginia as the chief academy, especially for classical education, and its reputation continued for more than a hundred years.[ ] [footnote : for valuable information concerning the marye family and its descendants, see brock's "huguenot emigration to virginia." (virginia hist. soc., richmond, .)] [footnote : in a note i have from john l. marye (sometime lieutenant-governor of virginia), he says: "as to the habit of the parish minister to conduct or overlook the schools, it would appear must probable that this was the case in , when we remember how destitute at that era colonial society was of well-organized public or private schools (save the tutors in families). when i entered mr. hanson's school in , it was the custom of parson mcguire and some of the vestry to attend the annual examinations."] some of the rules may strike the modern reader as snobbish, even for the observance of youth. but the originals are in that respect toned down in washington's ms. rule takes no cognizance of the principle of the original, that to approach nearer the fire than others, and to turn one's back to it are privileges of persons of rank. the th maxim of chapter iii., which directed certain kissings of the hands of superiors, or of the robe, and other abasements, is entirely omitted. where the original commands that we should never dispute in any fashion with our superiors in rank, rule says we ought not to "begin" with them. the only thing clear about which is that the instructor did not wish to admit authority so absolutely into the realm of argument. rule omits so much of the original as counsels grateful acceptance of reproof from another "the more if you depend on his authority." other instances of this more liberal tendency will be noticed by those who make a careful comparison of the rules and the french maxims. here then are rules of conduct, taught, if my theory be correct, by a french protestant pilgrim, unknown to fame, in the new world. they were taught to a small school of girls and boys, in a town of hardly a hundred inhabitants. they are maxims partly ethical, but mainly relate to manners and civility; they are wise, gentle, and true. a character built on them would be virtuous, and probably great. the publisher of the english version ( ) says that "mr. pinchester, a learned scholar of oxford," bought copies for a great school he was about to open in london. probably the school founded by james marye was the first in the new world in which good manners were seriously taught.[ ] nay, where is there any such school to day? [footnote : it is probable that mr. marye's fine precedent was followed, to some extent, in the fredericksburg academy. the present writer, who entered it just a hundred years after george washington recorded the "rules," recalls, as his first clear remembrance of the school, some words of the worthy principal, thomas hanson, on gentlemanly behaviour. alluding to some former pupil, who had become distinguished, he said, "i remember, on one occasion, in a room where all were gathered around the fire--the weather being very cold--that some one entered, and this boy promptly arose and gave the new-comer his seat at the fire. it made an impression on me which i have never forgotten." and how long have lasted in the memory of the writer hereof the very words of our teacher's homage to the considerate boy who obeyed washington's eighth rule!] just this one colonial school, by the good fortune of having for its master or superintendent an ex-jesuit french scholar, we may suppose instructed in civility; and out of that school, in what was little more than a village, came an exceptionally large number of eminent men. in that school three american presidents received their early education,--washington, madison, and monroe. it may be pretty confidently stated that both madison and monroe owed their success and eminence more to their engaging manners than to great intellectual powers. they were even notably deficient in that oratorical ability which counted for so much in the political era with which they were connected. they rarely spoke in congress. when speaking, madison was hesitating, and was heard with difficulty; but his quietness and modesty, his consideration for others, made the eloquent speak for him whether these two statesmen were personally taught by james marye is doubtful, for he was getting old when they were at school in fredericksburg; but we may feel sure that civility was still taught there in their time, as, indeed it was within the memory of many now living. george washington, though even less able than the two others to speak in public, had naturally a strong intellect. but in boyhood he had much more against him than most of his young comrades,--obstructions that could be surmounted only by character. his father had much land but little money; at his death ( ,) the lands were left chiefly to his sons by the first wife. his widow was left poor, and her eldest son, george, had not the fair prospect of most of his schoolmates. instead of being prepared for william and mary college, he was prepared only for going into some business as soon as possible, so as to earn support for his mother and her four younger children. in his old book of school-exercises, the "rules of civility" are found in proximity to business forms that bear pathetic testimony to the severe outlook of this boy of fourteen. in the ms. of col. byrd willis, already referred to (loaned me by his granddaughter, mrs. tayloe, of fredericksburg), he says: "my father, lewis willis, was a schoolmate of general washington, his cousin, who was two years his senior. he spoke of the general's industry and assiduity at school as very remarkable. whilst his brother and other boys at playtime were at bandy and other games, he was behind the door ciphering. but one youthful ebullition is handed down while at that school, and that was romping with one of the largest girls; this was so unusual that it excited no little comment among the other lads." it is also handed down that in boyhood this great soldier, though never a prig, had no fights, and was often summoned to the playground as a peacemaker, his arbitration in disputes being always accepted. once more it may be well enough to remind the reader that it may yet be found that washington, in his mother's humble home on the rappahannock, read and pondered "youth's behaviour," wrote out what it held for him, and himself became an instructor of his schoolmates in rules of civility. it would be wonderful, but not incredible. although washington became a fine-looking man, he was not of prepossessing appearance in early life; he was lank and hollow-chested. he was by no means a favourite with the beauties for which fredericksburg was always famous, and had a cruel disappointment of his early love for betsy fauntleroy. in his youth he became pitted by smallpox while attending his invalid half-brother, lawrence, on a visit to the barbadoes. but the experienced eye of lord fairfax, and of other members of the fairfax family, had discovered beneath the unattractive appearance of george washington a sterling character. their neighbourhood, on the upper potomac, was much less civilised and refined than fredericksburg, and this young gentleman, so well instructed in right rules of behaviour and conduct, won their hearts and their confidence. it had been necessary that he should leave school at the age of sixteen to earn a living. at seventeen he was appointed by lord fairfax surveyor of his vast estates in virginia, and for a time he resided with his lordship at greenway court. there can be little doubt that it was partly through the training in manners which washington gained from the old french maxims that he thus made headway against circumstances, and gained the friendship of the highly-educated and powerful fairfax family. it should be mentioned, however, that young washington's head was not in the least turned by this intimacy with the aristocracy. he wrote letters to his former playmates in which no snobbish line is discoverable. he writes to his "dear friend robin": "my place of residence is at present at his lordship's where i might, was my heart disengaged, pass my time very pleasantly, as there's a very agreeable young lady lives in the same house (col. george fairfax's wife's sister). but as that's only adding fuel to fire, it makes me the more uneasy, for by often and unavoidably being in company with her revives my former passion for your lowland beauty; whereas, was i to live more retired from young women, i might eleviate in some measure my sorrows by burying that chaste and troublesome passion in the grave of oblivion or etearnall forgetfulness, for as i am very well assured, that's the only antidote or remedy that i ever shall be relieved by or only recess that can administer any cure or help to me, as i am well convinced, was i ever to attempt anything, i should only get a denial which would be only adding grief to uneasiness." the young lady at greenway court was mary gary, and the lowland beauty was betsy fauntleroy, whose hand washington twice sought, but who became the wife of the hon. thomas adams. while travelling on his surveys, often among the red men, the youth sometimes gives vent to his feelings in verse. "oh ye gods why should my poor resistless heart stand to oppose thy might and power at last surrender to cupid's feather'd dart and now lays bleeding every hour for her that's pityless of my grief and woes, and will not on me pity take. i'll sleep among my most inveterate foes and with gladness never wish to wake, in deluding sleepings let my eyelids close that in an enraptured dream i may in a rapt lulling sleep and gentle repose possess those joys denied by day." and it must also be recorded that if he had learned how to conduct himself in the presence of persons superior to himself in position, age, and culture,--and it will be remembered that lord fairfax was an able contributor to the "spectator" (which washington was careful to study while at greenway,)--this youth no less followed the instruction of his th rule: "honour your natural parents though they be poor." his widowed mother was poor, and she was ignorant, but he was devoted to her; being reverential and gracious to her even when with advancing age she became somewhat morose and exacting, while he was loaded with public cares. i am no worshipper of washington. but in the hand of that man of strong brain and powerful passions once lay the destiny of the new world,--in a sense, human destiny. but for his possession of the humility and self-discipline underlying his rules of civility, the ambitious politicians of the united states might to-day be popularly held to a much lower standard. the tone of his character was so entirely that of modesty, he was so fundamentally patriotic, that even his faults are transformed to virtues, and the very failures of his declining years are popularly accounted successes. he alone was conscious of his mental decline, and gave this as a reason for not accepting a third nomination for the presidency. this humility has established an unwritten law of limitation on vaulting presidential ambitions. indeed, intrigue and corruption in america must ever struggle with the idealised phantom of this grand personality. these rules of civility go forth with the hope that they will do more than amuse the reader by their quaintness, and that their story will produce an impression beyond that of its picturesqueness. the strong probabilities that they largely moulded the character of washington, and so influenced the human race, may raise the question, whether the old french jesuits, and the pilgrim, james marye, did not possess more truly than our contemporary educators, the art and mystery of moral education. in these days, when ethical is replacing theological instruction, in the home and in the school, there appears danger that it may repeat some of the mistakes of its predecessor. the failure of what was called religion to promote moral culture is now explicable: its scheme of terror and hope appealed to and powerfully stimulated selfishness, and was also fundamentally anti-social, cultivating alienation of all who did not hold certain dogmas. the terrors and hopes having faded away, the selfishness they developed remains, and is only unchained by the decay of superstition. on the other hand, the social sentiment has thrown off sectarian restrictions, and an enthusiasm of humanity has succeeded. it is now certain that the social instinct is the only one which can be depended on to influence conduct to an extent comparable with the sway once exercised by superstitious terrors and expectations of celestial reward. the child is spiritually a creation of the commune; there can be no other motive so early responsive as that which desires the approval and admiration of those by whom it is surrounded. to attempt the training of human character by means of ethical philosophy or moral science--as it used to be called--appears to be somewhat of a theological "survival." when the sanctions of authority were removed from the pagan deities they were found to have been long reduced in the nursery to the dimensions of fairies. the tremendous conceptions of christian theology may some day be revealed as similarly diminished in the catechised mind of childhood. and the abstract principles of ethical philosophy cannot hope for any better fate. the child's mind cannot receive the metaphysics of virtue. it is impossible to explain to a child, for instance, the reasons for truthfulness, which, indeed, have grown out of the experience of the human race as matured by many ages. and so of humanity to animals, which is mainly a darwinian revival of buddhist sentiment based on a doctrine of transmigration. and the same may be said of other virtues. we must not suppose that a child has no scepticism because he cannot express or explain it in words; it will appear in the sweetness to him of stolen apples, in the fact that to label a thing "naughty" may only render it more tempting to a healthy boy. a philosopher said, "a fence is the temptation to a jump." our ethical teaching is vitiated by, an inheritance from theology of a superstition which subordinates conduct to its motives. really, if conduct be good, the motive (generally too complex for even consciousness to analyse) is of least importance. motives are important as causing conduct, but the law is just in assuming good or bad motives for the corresponding actions. the world does not depend on a man's inner but on his outer life. emerson once scandalised some of his admirers by saying that he preferred a person who did not respect the truth to an unpresentable person. but, no doubt, he would regard the presentable person as possessing virtues of equal importance. the nurture of "civility and decent behaviour in company and conversation," is not of secondary, but primary, importance. for what does it imply? if the rules about to be submitted are examined, it will be found that their practice draws on the whole moral world, as in walking every step draws on the universal gravitation. scarcely one rule is there that does not involve self-restraint, modesty, habitual consideration of others, and, to a large extent, living for others. yet other rules draw on the profounder deeps of wisdom and virtue, under a subtle guise of handsome behaviour. if youth can be won to excellence by love of beauty, who shall gainsay? it may occur to the polished reader that well-bred youths know and practise these rules of civility by instinct. but the best bred man's ancestors had to learn them, and the rude progenitors of future gentlemen have to learn them. can it be said, however, that those deemed well-bred do really know and practise these rules of civility instinctively? do they practise them when out of the region of the persons or the community in whose eyes they wish to find approval? how do they act with indians, negroes, or when travelling amongst those to whose good opinion they are indifferent? in a kentucky court a witness who had spoken of a certain man as "a gentleman," was pressed for his reasons, and answered, "if any man goes to his house he sets out the whisky, then goes and looks out of the window." it is doubtful if what commonly passes for politeness in more refined regions is equally humanised with that of the kentuckian so described. indeed the only difficulty in the way of such teaching as is here suggested, is the degree to which the words "lady" and "gentleman" have been lowered from their original dignity. the utilization of the social sentiment as a motive of conduct in the young need not, however, depend on such terms, though these are by no means beyond new moralization in any home or school. an eminent englishman told me that he once found his little son pointing an old pistol at his sister. the ancient pistol was not dangerous, but the action was. "had i told him it was dangerous," he said, "it might only have added spice to the thing, but i said, 'i am surprised. i thought you were a little gentleman, but that is the most ungentlemanly thing you could do.' the boy quickly laid aside the pistol, with deep shame. i have found nothing so restraining for my children as to suggest that any conduct is ungentlemanly or unladylike." and let my reader note well the great moral principles in these rules of civility and decent behaviour. the antithesis of "sinfull" is "manfull." washington was taught that all good conduct was gentlemanly, all bad conduct ill-bred. it is to be hoped that the time is not far distant when in every school right rules of civility will be taught as a main part of the curriculum. something of the kind was done by the late bronson alcott, in the school he founded in boston, massachusetts, near fifty years ago, for children gathered from the street. the school was opened every morning with a "conduct lesson," as it was called. it will be seen by miss elizabeth peabody's "records of a school" that the children crowded to the door before it was, opened in their anxiety not to lose a word of this lesson. and, rude as most of the children were, this instruction, consisting of questions and answers, gradually did away with all necessity for corporal punishments. it were a noble task for any competent hand to adapt the rules given in this volume, and those of the later french work, and still more those of master obadiah walker's book on "education," to the conditions and ideas of our time, for the use of schools. from the last-named work, that of a master of university college, oxford, i will take for my conclusion a pregnant passage. "the greatest _magnetismes_ in the world are _civility_, conforming to the innocent humours, and infirmities, sometimes, of others, readiness to do courtesies for all, speaking well of all behind their backs. and sly _affability_, which is not only to be used in common and unconcerning speech, but upon all occasions. a man may deny a request, chide, reprehend, command &c. _affably_, with good words, nor is there anything so harsh which may not be inoffensively represented." note. there has been no alteration of the original french and english documents in the pages following. the spelling, punctuation, use of small or capital letters, italics, etc., whether faults or archaisms, are strictly preserved. the word 'maxim' refers to the early french work (of the jesuit fathers). 'rule' refers to washington's ms. 'hawkins' indicates the english version of the maxims, chiefly the anonymous additions thereto. see p. . 'walker' refers to obadiah walker's work on education, spoken of on p. . 'the later french book' refers to the anonymous work of , translated into english, mentioned on p. . st. every action done in company ought to be with some sign of respect, to those that are present. maximes, chap. ii. chapter ii. . que toutes actions qui se font publiquement fassent voir son sentiment respectueux à toute la compagnie. all actions done before others should be with some sign of respectful feeling to the entire company. d. when in company, put not your hands to any part of the body not usually discovered. chapter ii. . gardez-vous bien de toucher de la main aucune partie de vostre corps, de celles qui ne sont point en veuë, en la presence d'aucune autre personne. pour les mains, & le visage, cela leur est ordinaire. et afin de vous y accoustumer pratiquez ce poinct de ciuilité mesme en vostre particulier. in the presence of any one, never put your hand to any part of the person not usually uncovered. as for the hands and face they are usually visible. in order to form a habit in this point of decency, practise it even when with your intimate friend. d. shew nothing to your friend that may affright him. chapter ii. . ne faites pas voir a vostre compagnon, ce qui luy pourroit faire mal au coeur. show nothing to your companion that may grieve him. th. in the presence of others sing not to yourself with a humming noise, nor drum, with your fingers or feet. chapter ii. . ne vous amusez pas à chanter en vous mesme, si vous ne vous rencontrez si fort à l'écart qu'aucun autre ne vous puisse entendre, non plus qu'à contre-faire le son du tambour par l'agitation des pieds ou des mains. do not seek amusement in singing to yourself, unless beyond the hearing of others, nor drum with your hands or feet. th. if you cough, sneeze, sigh, or yawn, do it not loud, but privately; and speak not in your yawning, but put your handkerchief or hand before your face and turn aside. chapter ii. . quand vous toussez ou quand vous esternuez, si vous pouuez estre le maistre de ces efforts de nature, n'éclatez pas si hautement & si fort. ne poussez soûpirs si aigres que les autres les puissent entendre. . ne soufflez pas si asprement, faisant des hurlements en baaillant. et s'il vous est possible, empeschez vous absolum[=e]t de baailler; mais ayez en un bien plus soin, quand vous entretenez avec quelqu'vn, ou dans quelque conuersation. car c'est un signe manifest d'un certain dégoust de ceux avec qui vous vivez. si vous ne pouvez pas empescher de baailler, du moins gardez vous bien de parler en cet instant mesme, & d'ouurir extraordinairem[=e]t la bouche; mais pressez la sagement, ou en détournant tant soi peu la face de la cõpagnie. [sidenote: the later french book advises one, in sneezing, not to shake the foundations of the house.] whenever you cough or sneeze, if you can control these efforts of nature, do not let the sound be high or strong. do not heave sighs so piercing as to attract attention. do not breathe heavily, or make noises in yawning. if you can, abstain from yawning, especially while with any one, or in conversation. for it is a plain sign of a certain dislike of those with whom you dwell. if you cannot keep from yawning, at least be careful not to speak while doing so, and not to gape excessively; press your mouth adroitly or n turning a little from the company. th. sleep not when others speak, sit not when others stand, speak not when you should hold your peace, walk not when others stop chapter ii. . c'est vne inciuilité & vne impertinence de dormir, pendant que la cõpagnie s'entretient de discours; de se tenir assis lors que tout le monde est debout, de se promener lors que personne ne branle, & de parler, quãd il est temps de se taire ou d'écouter. pour celuy toutesfois qui a l'authorité, il y a des temps & des lieux où il luy est permis de se promener seul, comme à un precepteur qui est dans la classe. it is an incivility and an impertinence to doze while the company is conversing, to be seated while the rest stand, to walk on when others pause, and to speak when you should be silent, or listen. for those in authority, as a master in school, there are times and places when it is admissible to walk alone. th. put not off your cloths in the presence of others, nor go out of your chamber half drest. chapter ii. . il n'est pas seant d'auoir son liet en mauuais ordre dans sa chambre, non plus que de s'habiller en la presence des autres, ou de s'y dépoüiller, ou de sortir de sa mesme chambre à demy habillé, couuert de sa coiffe, ou bonnet-de-nuiet, de rester debout en sa chãbre ou estre attaché à son pulpitre auec sa robe ouverté. et quoy que vous ne manquiez pas de serviteur qui prenne le soin de faire vostre liet; toutesfois en sortant, prenez garde de le laisser découvert. it is not seemly to leave your bed disarranged, to dress or undress before others, or to leave your chamber half-dressed, covered with a hood, or night-cap, or to remain standing in your room or at your desk with open gown. and although you have a servant to make your bed, nevertheless, take care when you go out to leave it uncovered. th. at play and at fire its good manners to give place to the last commer, and affect not to speak louder than ordenary. chapter ii. . il est mal-seant, dans le jeu, ou aupres du feu de faire attendre trop long-temps ceux qui viennent à s'y presenter. it is impolite at play, or at the fireside, to make the new-comers wait for places too long. _(in the second clause, "affect not" &c., the washington ms. follows hawkins in misunderstanding a phrase of the next maxim: "prenez garde de vous échauffer trop au jeu, & aux emportements qui s'y eleu[~e]t,"--a warning against being overheated at play, and "carried away by its excitements.")_ th. when you sit down, keep your feet firm and even, without putting one on the other or crossing them chapter ii. . pour l'ordre que l'on doit tenir étant assis, c'est de placer bien ses pieds à terre en égale distance que les cuisses, non pas de croiser vne cuisse ou vn pied sur l'autre. when seated, the feet should be placed well on the ground, in even distance with the legs, and neither a leg or a foot should be crossed on the other. th. shift not yourself in the sight of others nor gnaw your nails. chapter ii. . c'est vne inciuilité insupportable d'allonger son corps en estendant les bras, ou de faire differents postures. chapter iii. . il ne faut iamais rogner ses ongles dans le public, & bien moins les prendre à beiles dents. it is insufferably impolite to stretch the body, extend the arms, or to assume different postures. do not pare your nails in public, much less gnaw them. th. shake not the head, feet, or legs rowl not the eys, lift not one eyebrow higher than the other wry not the mouth, and bedew no mans face with your spittle, by appr[oaching too nea]r [when] you speak. chapter ii. . vous ne hocherez la teste, vous ne remuerez point les jambes, ny ne roüillerez les yeux, ne froncerez point les sourcils, ou tordrez la bouche. vous vous garderez de laisser aller auec vos paroles de la saliue, ou du crachat aux visages de ceux, auec qui vous conversez. pour obvier à cét accident, vous ne vous en approcherez point si prés; mais vous les entretiendrez dans vne distãce raisonnable. shake not the head, nor fidget the legs, nor roll the eyes, nor frown, nor make mouths. be careful not to let saliva escape with your words, nor any spittle fly into the faces of those with whom you converse. to avoid such accident do not approach them too near, but keep at a reasonable distance. th kill no vermin as fleas, lice ticks &c in the sight of others, if you see any filth or thick spittle put your foot dexteriously upon it if it be upon the cloths of your companions, put it off privately, and if it be upon your own cloths return thanks to him who puts it off chapter ii. . gardez vous bié de vous arrester à tuër vne puce, ou quelque sale bestiole de cette espece, en presence de qui que a puisse estre. que si quelque chose d'immòde vient à vous offenser la veuë, en regardant à terre, comme quelque crachat infect, ou quelque autre chose semblable, mettez le pied dessus. s'il en attache quelque'vne aux habits de celuy à qui vous parlez, ou voltige dessus, gardez vouz bien de la luy monstrer, ou à quelqu'autre personne; mais trauaillez autant que vous pourrez à l'oster adroitement. et s'il arriue que quelqu'vn vous oblige tant que de vous défaire de quelque chose de semblable, faites luy paroistre vostre reconnoissance. do not stop to kill a flea, or other disgusting insect of the kind, in the presence of any one. if anything disgusting offends the sight on the ground, as phlegm, etc., put your foot on it. if it be on any garment of one to whom you are talking, do not show it to him or another, but do your best to remove it unobserved. if any one oblige you in a thing of that kind make him your acknowledgments. th. turn not your back to others especially in speaking, jog not the table or desk on which another reads or writes lean not upon any one. chapter ii. . en la rencontre que l'on fait des personnes, quand on les entretient, c'est une chose malseante de leur tourner le dos & les épaules. c'est vne action impertinente de heurter la table ou d'ébranler le pupitre, dont vn autre se sert pour lire, ou pour écrire. c'est vne inciuilité de s'appuyer sur quelqu'vn, de tirer sa robbe, lors que l'on luy parle ou que l'on le peut entretenir. when one meets people, it is very unbecoming in speaking to them to turn one's back and shoulders to them. it is an impertinent action to knock against the table, or to shake the desk, which another person is using for reading or writing. it is uncivil to lean against any one, or to pluck his dress when speaking to him, or while entertaining him in conversation. th. keep your nails clean and short, also your hands and teeth clean, yet without shewing any great concern for them chapter ii. . gardez vous bien de vous arrester en toute sorte de conuersation, à rajuster vostre rabat, ou à rehausser vos chausses pour les faire ioindre & en paroitre plus galaud. que vos ongles ne soient point replis d'ordures, ny trop longs. ayez grand soin de la netteté de vos mains; mais n'y recherchez point la volupté. [sidenote: hawkins: "without overmuch attendance thereon or curiosity."] take good care not to stop, in any sort of conversation, to adjust your bands, or to pull up your stockings to make them join so as to look more gallant. do not let your nails be full of dirt or too long. have a great regard for the cleanliness of your hands, but do not be finikin about it. th. do not puff up the cheeks, loll not out the tongue rub the hands, or beard, thrust out the lips, or bite them or keep the lips too open or too close. chapter ii. . c'est une vilainie de s'enfler les joües, de tirer la langue, de se manier la barbe, se frotter les mains, d'estendre ses levres ou les mordre, de les tenir trop serrées ou trop entrouuertes. it is very low to puff out the cheeks, to put out the tongue, to pull one's beard, rub one's hands, poke out or bite the lips, or to keep them too tightly closed or too open. th. be no flatterer, neither play with any that delights not to be play'd withal. chapter ii. . ne flattez & n'amadoüez personne par belles paroles, car celui qui pretend d'en gagner un autre par les discours emmiellez, fait voir qu'il n'en a pas grande estime, & qu'il le tient pour peu sensé & adroit, dés qu'il le prend pour vn hõme que l'on peut ioüer en cette maniere: n'usez point de gausseries auprés d'vne personne qui s'en offense. do not flatter or wheedle any one with fair words, for he who aspires to gain another person by his honied words shows that he does not hold him in high esteem and that he deems him far from sensible or clever, in taking him for a man who may be tricked in this manner: do not play practical jokes on those who do not like it. th. read no letters, books, or papers in company but when there is a necessity for the doing of it you must ask leave: come not near the books or writings of another so as to read them unless desired or give your opinion of them unask'd also look not nigh when another is writing a letter chapter ii. . c'est vne action directement opposée à la bien-séance, de lire quelque livre, quelques lettres ou autres choses semblables dans vne conversation ordinaire, si ce n'est en vne affaire pressante, ou pour quelque peu de moments; & mesme encore en ce cas, est-il à propos d'en demander la permission, si vous n'estes, possible, le superieur de la compagnie. c'est encore pis de manier les ouvrages des autres, leurs livres, & d'autres choses de cette nature, de s'y attacher, d'en approcher la veuë de plus prés, sans la permission de celuy à qui la chose appartient, aussi bien que de leur donner des loüanges, ou les censurer, auant que l'on vous en demande vostre sentiment; de s'approcher trop prés, & d'incommoder celuy de qui ou est voisin, lors qu'il prend la lecture de ses lettres ou de quelqu'-autre chose. it is an act directly opposed to politeness to read a book, letters or anything else during ordinary conversation, if it be not a pressing matter, or only for a few moments, and even in that case it is proper to ask leave unless you are, possibly, the highest in rank of the company. it is even worse to handle other people's work, their books or other things of that nature, to go close to them, to look at them closely without the permission of the owner, and also to praise or find fault with them before your opinion has been asked; to come too close to any one near by, when he is reading his letters or anything else. th let your countenance be pleasant but in serious matters somewhat grave chapter ii. . que le visage ne paroisse point fantastique, changeant, égaré, rauy en admiration, couuert de tristesse, divers & volage, & ne fasse paroître aucun signe d'vn esprit inquiet: au contraire, qu'il soil ouuert & tranquille, mais qu'il ne soit pas trop épanoüy de joye dans les affaires serieuses, ny trop retiré par vne grauité affectée dans la conversation ordinaire & familiere de la vie humaine. the face should not look fantastic, changeable, absent, rapt in admiration, covered with sadness, various and volatile, and it should not show any signs of an unquiet mind. on the contrary, it should be open and tranquil, but not too expansive with joy in serious affairs, nor too self-contained by an affected gravity in the ordinary and familiar conversation of human life. th the gestures of the body must be suited to the discourse you are upon hawkins i. . let the gestures of thy body, be agreeable to the matter of thy discourse. for it hath been ever held a solaesime in oratory, to poynt to the earth, when thou talkest of heaven. _(the nearest maxim to this is one directed against excessive and awkward gesticulation in speaking, in which it is said: "parmy les discours regardez à mettre vostre corps en belle posture" (while speaking be careful to assume an elegant posture)._ st. reproach none for the infirmaties of nature, nor delight to put them that have in mind thereof.) chapter iv. . ne reprochez les défauts à personne, non pas mesme de la nature, & ne prenez plaisir à faire confusion à qui que ce soit, par vos paroles. [sidenote: hawkins adds: "which by no art can be amended."] reproach none for their infirmities--avoid it equally when they are natural ones--and do not take pleasure in uttering words that cause any one shame, whoever it may be. d. shew not yourself glad at the misfortune of another though he were your enemy hawkins i. . when thou shalt heare the misfortunes of another, shew not thy selfe gladed for it, though it happ to thy enemy, for that will argue a mind mischievous, and will convict thee of a desire to have executed it thy selfe, had either power or opertunity seconded thy will. _(nothing corresponding to rule is found among the maxims of the jesuit fathers; but the later french book has the following: "shew not your self joyful and pleased at the misfortunes that have befallen another, though you hated him, it argues a mischievous mind, and that you had a desire to have done it your self, if you had had the power or opportunity to your will.")_ d. when you see a crime punished, you may be inwardly pleased; but always shew pity to the suffering offender. hawkins i. . when thou seest justice executed on any, thou maist inwardly take delight in his vigilancy, to punish offenders, because it tends to publique quiet, yet shew pity to the offender, and ever constitute the defect of his morality, thy precaution. [sidenote: this rule has been nearly destroyed by mice.] [ th. do not laugh too loud or] too much at any publick [spectacle, lest you cause yourself to be laughed at.] hawkins i. . laugh not too much or too loud, in any publique spectacle least for thy so doing, thou present thy selfe, the only thing worthy to be laughed at. th. superfluous complements and all affectation of ceremony are to be avoided, yet where due they are not to be neglected chapter iii. . quoy qu'il soit bon de s'épargner vn trop grand soing de pratiquer vne ciuilité affectée, il faut pourtant estre exact à en obseruer ce qui est necessaire & auantageux pour faire paroistre une belle éducation, & ce qui ne se peut obmettre sans choquer ceux auec qui l'on converse. though it is right to avoid too great care in practising an affected civility, yet one must be exact in observing what is necessary and advantageous in order to show a good education, and all that cannot be omitted without shocking those with whom one is conversing. th. in pulling off your hat to persons of distinction, as noblemen, justices, churchmen, &c make a reverence, bowing more or less according to the custom of the better bred, and quality of the persons. amongst your equals expect not always that they should begin with you first, but to pull off the hat when there is no need is affectation, in the manner of saluting and resaluting in words keep to the most usual custom. chapter iii. . témoignez vos respects aux hommes illustres & honorables, le chappeau en la main, comme aux ecclesiastiques, ou aux magistrats, ou à quelques autres personnes qualifiées; en tenant vers vous le dedans du chappeau que vous aurez osté: faites leur aussi la reverence par quelque inclination de corps, autant que la dignité de chacun d'eux, & la belle coûtume des enfants bien nourris, le semble exiger. et comme c'est vne chose fort inciuile de ne se pas découurir devant ceux à qui l'on doit ce respect, pour les saluër, ou d'attendre que vostre égal vous rend le premier ce deuoir; aussi de le faire, quand il n'est pas à propos, ressent sa ciuilité affectée: mais c'est vne honteuse impertinence de prendre garde si l'on vous rend vostre salutation. au reste pour saluër quelqu'vn de parole, ce compliment semble le plus propre, qui est vsité par personnes le plus polies. show your respect for illustrious and honourable men,--such as ecclesiastics, magistrates, or other persons of quality,--hat in hand, holding the inside of the removed hat towards you; make your reverence to them by inclining your body as much as the dignity of each and the custom of well-bred youth seems to demand. and, as it is very rude not to uncover the head before those to whom one owes such respect, in order to salute them, or to wait till your equal should perform this duty towards you first, so also, to do it when it is not fitting savours of affected politeness: but it is shameful impertinence to be anxious for the return of one's salute. finally, it seems most fitting to salute any one in words, a compliment which the politest persons are in the habit of using. th. tis ill manners to bid one more eminent than yourself be covered as well as not to do it to whom it's due. likewise he that makes too much haste to put on his hat does not well, yet he ought to put it on at the first, or at most the second time of being ask'd; now what is herein spoken, of qualification in behaviour in saluting, ought also to be observed in taking of place, and sitting down for ceremonies without bounds is troublesome. chapter iii. . c'est une grande inciuilité d'entreprendre de prier vn superieur de se couurir, aussi bien que de n'en pas supplier celuy à qui cela se peut faire. et celuy qui se haste trop de se couurir, particulierement en parlant à quelque personne qualifiée, ou qui pressé par plusieurs fois de ce faire, le refuse, choque la bienscéance; c'est pour cela qu'à la . ou . fois il est permis de se couurir, si l'vsage ne se trouue contraire en quelque prouince ou royaume. et en effet entre les égaux, ou auec de plus âgez, soit religieux, ou domestiques, il est permis d'accorder cette requeste à vn égal ou à vn plus ieune, dés la . fois. toutefois ceux qui sõt égaux, ou fort péu differents les vns des autres, ont coustume de se faire cette priere, & de se couurir tout ensemble. toutes les remarques donc qui se sont faites icy de la bonne conduite, doiuent estre aussi entenduës de l'ordre qu'il faut tenir à prendre place, & à s'asseoir: car le plaisir que l'on prend aux ciuilitez & aux complimens, est tout à fait importun. it is very impolite to ask a superior to be covered, as it is not to do so in the case of one with regard to whom it is proper. and the man who is in haste to put his hat on, especially in talking to a person of quality, or who, having been urged several times to do so, refuses, shocks good manners; for this reason, after the first or second request, it is allowable to put the hat on, unless in some province or kingdom where the usage is otherwise. in fact, amongst equals, or with those who are older, or who belong to religious orders, or domestics, it is allowable to grant that request to one's equal or to a younger man, at the very first time. however, those of equal rank, or between whom there is little difference of rank, usually make the request and put on their hats at the same time. all the remarks here made on polite conduct, must also be extended to the order to be observed in taking places, and in sitting down; for the pleasure taken in ceremonies and compliments is really irksome. th. if any one come to speak to you while you are sitting stand up tho he be your inferiour, and when you present seats let it be to every one according to his degree. chapter iii. . si vous estes assis, lors que quelq'vn vous vient rendre visite, leuez-vous dés qu'il approche; si la dignité de la personne demande cette deference, comme s'il a quelque aduantage sur vous, s'il vous est égal, ou inferieur; mais non pas fort familier. si vous vous reposez chez vous, ayant quelque siege, faites en soite de traiter chacun selon son merite. if you are sitting down when any one pays you a call rise as soon as he comes near; whether his position demands that deference, as having precedence over you, or if he be your equal, or inferior; but not if he is on very intimate terms with you. if you are in your own house, having any seat to offer, manage to treat each guest according to his station. th. when you meet with one of greater quality than yourself, stop, and retire especially if it be at a door or any straight place to give way for him to pass chapter iii. . quand vous rencontrez des personnes à qui vous deuez du respect, outre les devoirs d'vne salutation ordinaire, vous estes obligé de vous arrester quelque peu de temps, ou de rebrousser chemin jusqu'à l'entrée des portes, ou aux coins des ruës, pour leur donner passage. [sidenote: walker says, "if you meet a superior in a narrow way, stop, and press to make him more room."] in meeting those to whom you should shew respect beyond the salutations which are their due, you should stop a little, or retreat to a threshold, or to the corner of the street, so as to make way for them. th. in walking the highest place in most countrys seems to be on the right hand therefore place yourself on the left of him whom you desire to honour: but if three walk together the middle place is the most honourable the wall is usually given to the most worthy if two walk together. chapter iii. . s'il arriue que vous faciez la promenade auec eux, vous leur laisserez tousiours la place honorable, qui est celle qui sera marquée par l'vsage. a parler generalement, il semble que plusieurs nations ont passé en coustume que la droite soit tenuë pour vne marque de reuerence, de telle soit, que quand quelq'vn veut deferer à un autre, il le mette à sa droicte, en prenant sa gauche. lors que trois hommes se promenent ensemble, le plus qualifié a tousiours le milieu: celuy qui tient la droite, a le second lieu, & l'autre qui reste à la gauche, n'a que le troisiéme. mais en france, quand l'on se promene au long d'vn mur; par ce que ce lieu est presque toujours plus eleué & plus net à cause de sa pente, la coûtume porte presque par tout qu'elle soit laissée au plus qualifié, & particulierement quand deux personnes marchent ensemble. if you happen to take a walk with them, always give them the place of honour, which is that pointed out by usage. to speak generally, it appears that several nations have made it a custom that the right should always be held as a mark of esteem, so that, when any one wishes to honour another, he will put him on his right, himself taking the left. when three are walking together, he of the highest quality always has the middle: he who takes the right has the second place, and the other who remains on the left has the third. but in france, when walking by the side of a wall, that place being almost always higher and cleaner because of the slope, the custom almost always is that it be yielded to the man of the highest quality, and particularly when two are walking together. st. if any one far surpasses others, either in age estate, or merit [yet, in any particular instance,] would give place to a meaner than himself [in his own house or elsewhere] the one ought not to except it, so [the other, for fear of making him appear uncivil, ought not to press] it above once or twice. chapter iii. . si celuy qui se trouuera beaucoup plus avancé en âge, ou auantagé en dignité, soit en sa maison ou en quelqu'autre lieu, veut honorer son inferieur, comme il n'est pas à propos que cet inferieur s'en estime digne, de mesme aussi ne faut-il pas que celuy qui est superieur, l'en presse auec trop de soin, ou luy témoigne sa deference plus d'vne ou deux fois, de crainte que l'assiduité de sa supplication reïterée ne rabatte quelque chose de la bonne opinion que celuy qui le refuse, avoit conceu de son addresse & de sa courtoisie, ou qu'il luy fasse commettre enfin une inciuilité. if he who is much the older, or has the advantage of rank, wishes, in his house or elsewhere, to honour his inferior, as it is not fitting that such inferior should think himself worthy, so also the superior must not press him too much or show such deference more than once or twice, lest the assiduity of his reiterated requests lower somewhat the good opinion which he who refuses, had conceived of his tact and courtesy, or lest, at last, it cause him to be guilty of some incivility. d. to one that is your equal, or not much inferior you are to give the chief place in your lodging and he to who 'tis offered ought at the first to refuse it but at the second to accept though not without acknowledging his own unworthiness chapter iii. . mais entre les égaux, il est bien à propos en receuant quelqu'vn dans sa maison, de luy donner la place la plus honnorable. et celuy à qui l'on fait un sì bon accueil, en doit faire quelque refus d'abord, mais à la seconde instance de son amy, il luy doit obeyr. [sidenote: maxim iii. , which says that acceptance of a first place should be accompanied by an acknowledgement of unworthiness, is represented in the last words of rule .] but amongst equals, it is quite right, in receiving any one into one's house, to give him the most honourable place; and the person to whom one accords such a good reception ought at first rather to refuse it, but, when his friend insists a second time, he ought to obey him. d. they that are in dignity or in office have in all places preceedency but whilst they are young they ought to respect those that are their equals in birth or other qualitys, though they have no publick charge. chapter iii. . a ceux qui out le cõmandement, & qui sont dans le pouuoir, ou qui exercent les charges de judicature, l'on donne tousiours les premieres places en toute sorte de compagnie. mais qu'ils sçachent eux-mesmes que s'ils sont jeunes, ils sont obligez de respecter ceux qui sont d'aussi noble maison qu'eux, on qui les deuancent de beaucoup en âge, & sont honorez du degré de doctorat; quoy qu'ils n'exercent aucune charge publique; et bien plus, ils leur doiuent d'abord remettre la premiere place qu'il leur auoient deferé, & en suitte auec modestie, receuoir cest honneur comme une grace. [sidenote: the second clause is not in the french maxims.] in every company the first place is always given to those in command, or in power, or who exercise judicial charges. but these, if young, should realise that they ought to respect those who belong to houses as noble as their own, or who are much older, and those honoured with the degree of doctor, though not exercising any public function; and moreover they ought, at first, to return an offer of the highest place, and afterwards receive that honour modestly, as a favour. th. it is good manners to prefer them to whom we speak before ourselves especially if they be above us with whom in no sort we ought to begin. chapter iii. . il est de la derniere ciuilité de parler tousiours mieux de ceux auec qui nous avons à conuerser, que de vous mesmes: et particulieremet quãd ce sont des personnes éleuées audessus de nous, auec qui il ne faut iamais contester en aucune maniere. [sidenote: compare the last clause of this maxim with rule .] it is the height of politeness always to speak better of those with whom we have to converse than of ourselves. and particularly when they are persons of a superior rank to ourselves, with whom we ought never to dispute in any fashion. th. let your discourse with men of business be short and comprehensive. chapter iii. . le temps & le lieu, l'âge & la difference des personnes doivent regler tout cét vsage de compliments qui se fait parmy les plus polis, & particulierement ceux qui consistent dans les paroles. mais l'on doit trancher court auec les personnes affairées & ne leur presenter plus aux nez toutes ses agreables fleurettes: il les faut épargner, & se faire entendre plustost par mines, qu'auec des paroles. time and place, age and the difference between persons, ought to regulate the whole custom of compliments as is done amongst the most polite, especially compliments that consist in words. but one should cut matters short with men of business, and not put one's fine flowerets under their nose; one should spare them, and make himself understood rather by looks than words. th. artificers & persons of low degree ought not to use many ceremonies to lords, or others of high degree but respect and highly honour them, and those of high degree ought to treat them with affibility & courtesie, without arrogancy chapter iii. . comme le soin de la ciuilité la plus raffinée ne doit pas beaucoup trauailler les esprits des artisants & de la lie du peuple enuers les grands & les magistrats; aussi est-il raisonnable qu'ils ayent soin de leur rendre de l'honneur: de mesme il est à propos que la noblesse les traitte [_sic_] doucement & les épargne, & qu'elle éuite toute sorte de superbe. as the care for the most refined politeness ought not to trouble much the minds of artizans and of the dregs of the people, as regards nobles and magistrates, while it is reasonable that they should take care to honour such, so it is also right that the nobility should treat them gently, spare them, and avoid all manner of arrogance. th. in speaking to men of quality do not lean nor look them full in the face, nor approach too near them at lest keep a full pace from them. chapter iii. . en parlant aux personnes qualifiées, ne vous appuyez point le corps; ne leuez point vos yeux iusques sur leur visage; ne vous en approchez pas trop prés, & faites en sorte que ce ne soit iamais qu'à vn grãd pas de distance. in speaking to persons of quality, do not lean your body on any thing; do not raise your eyes to their face; do not go too near, and manage to keep a full step from them. th. in visiting the sick, do not presently play the physicion if you be not knowing therein. chapter iii. . quãd vous visiterez quelque malade, ne faites pas aussi-tost le medicin, si vous n'estes point experimenté en cette science. when you go to see any sick person do not immediately act the physician if you are not experienced in that science. th. in writing or speaking, give to every person his due title according to his degree & the custom of the place. chapter iii. . lors que vous addresserez des lettres à des personnes qui seront dans l'estime publique; vous vous gouuernerez aupres d'eux, selon la coustume du pays & le degré de leur dignité. quand vous aurez acheué vos lettres, relisez-les, pour en oster les fautes; mettez de la poudre sur l'escriture, lors qu'il en sera besoin & ne pliez iamais vostre papier que les characteres ne soient bien desechez, de crainte qu'ils ne s'effacent. in addressing letters to persons held in public esteem, you will be regulated by the customs of the country and the degree of their dignity. when you have finished your letters, read them over again so as to correct mistakes; sand the writing, when necessary, and never fold your paper until the letters are quite dry, lest they be effaced. th. strive not with your superiers in argument, but always submit your judgment to others with modesty hawkins ii. . strive not with thy superiours, in argument or discourse, but alwayes submit thy opinion to their riper judgment, with modesty; since the possibility of erring, doth rather accompany greene than gray hairs. st. undertake not to teach your equal in the art himself professes; it flavours of arrogancy. hawkins ii. . doe not undertake to teach thy equal, in the art himself professeth, for that will savour of arrogancy, and serve for little other than to brand thy judgment with rashnesse. _(nothing has been found in the french maxims resembling rule . walker has the following: "cautious also must be he who discourseth even of that he understands amongst persons of that profession: an affectation that more scholars than wise men are guilty of; i mean to discourse with every man in his own faculty; except it be by asking questions and seeming to learn" (p. ))._ [ d. let your ceremonies in] curtesie be proper to the dignity of his place [with whom you converse; it is absurd to ac]t ye same with a clown and a prince. hawkins ii. . let thy seremonyes in courtesy be proper to the dignity and place, of him with whom thou conversest. for it is absurd to honour a clown with words courtly and of magnificence. d. do not express joy before one sick or in pain for that contrary passion will aggravate his misery hawkins ii. . do not thou expresse joy before one sick, or in paine; for that contrary passion, will aggravate his misery. but do thou rather sympathize his infirmityes, for that will afford a gratefull easement, by a seeming participation. th. when a man does all he can though it succeeds not well blame not him that did it. chapter iv. . celui qui fait tout ce qui luy est possible, pour auancer vostre affaire, quoy qu'il ne la meine pas, & n'en puisse auoir le succez cõme vous l'esperez, ne doit point entendre de reprimãde; puis qu'il est plus digne de loüange que de blâme. the man who does all he can to advance your business, even though he should not bring it about, and may not be able to obtain the success you hoped for, ought not to hear reproaches, since he is more worthy of praise than of blame. [sidenote: hawkins has only 'sweetness,' washington being here closer to the french.] th. being to advise or reprehend any one, consider whether it ought to be in publick or in private; presently, or at some other time in what terms to do it & in reproving shew no signs of cholar but do it with all sweetness and mildness chapter iv. . si vous auez à exhorter ou reprendre quelqu'vn, prenez bien garde, s'il est plus à propos de le faire en particulier ou en public, en ce temps ou en vn autre, bien plus, quelles paroles vous y deuez employer: et particulierement lors que quelqu'vn ayãt esté desia reprimãdé d'autres fois, ne se corrige point des fautes passées, & ne promet point d'amandement. et soit que vous donniez quelques auis, ou que vous fassiez quelque reprimande, donnez-vous de garde de vous mettre en cholere, au contraire pratiquez ces actions auec moderation & douceur. if you have to exhort or to reproach any one, consider whether it be better to do so in private or in public; at this time or another and, above all, what words you should use: and particularly when some one having been already reprimanded at other times does not correct himself of his past faults, and does not promise any amendment. and if you give any advice, or impart any reprimand, carefully avoid anger; on the contrary, do such acts with moderation and sweetness. th. take all admonitions thankfully in what time or place soever given but afterwards not being culpable take a time or place convenient to let him know it that gave them. chapter iv. . aussi quiconque se donnera la peine de vous remonstrer de quelque façõ, en quelque lieu, & en quelque temps qu'il le fasse, qu'il soit écouté de vostre part auec beaucoup de ressentiment de bienueillance & de reconnoissance. et apres cela, si vous vous sentez innocent, & qu'il vous semble à propos de vous prouuer tel, il vous sera bien permis de le faire; mais auec ce soin de predre bien vostre temps, & plustost pour luy en faire voir la verité, & le tirer de peine, & plus si vous estes en sa charge, ou si vous releuez de son pouuoir, que pour vous appuyer de quelque excuse. also when any one takes the trouble to rebuke you, no matter how, where, or when he does it, hear him for your part with much feeling of goodwill and acknowledgment. and after that, if innocent, and it seems right to prove yourself so, you will be quite at liberty to do so; being careful, however, to choose a proper time, and rather to make him see the truth, and relieve him from anxiety,--the more if you are in his charge or depend on his authority--than to defend yourself with some excuse. [ ] th. mock not nor jest at anything of importance break no jest that are sharp biting, and if you deliver anything witty and pleasent abtain from laughing thereat yourself. chapter iv. . ne vous amusez point aux equiuoques ny en matiere importante, ny en choses honteuses. si vous trouuez bon de railler, gardez vous bien de mordre, & bien plus de déchirer comme un chien. que les bons-mots & les rencontres soient tirées du suiet, que les vns & les autres ayent leur gentillesse & leur pointe, sans attirer l'indignation de personne. que les plaisanteries ne soient point comme celles des bouffons, qui font rire par des representations extrauagantes, & des actions deshonnestes: si vous rencontrez ioliment, si vous donnez quelque bon-mot, en faisant rire les autres, empeschez-vous-en, le plus qu'il vous sera possible. do not divert yourself with _equivoques_, either in important or in mean matters. if you find good occasion for a joke, be careful not to bite, still less to tear, like a dog. witticisms and repartee should be to the point, and should have elegance and appropriateness without exciting the indignation of any. do not let your pleasantries degenerate into those of buffoons, who raise laughter by extravagant representations and indecent action. if you are clever in repartee, if you say a good thing, manage if possible, in making others laugh, to abstain from it yourself. th. wherein wherein you reprove another be unblameable yourself; for example is is more prevalent than precepts hawkins iii. . be sure thy conversation be in that poynt vertuous, wherein thou art desirous to retaine another, least thy actions render thy advice unprofitable. since the ratification of any advice is the serious prosecution of that vertue. for example hath ever been more prevalent than precept. th. use no reproachfull language against any one neither curse nor revile hawkins iii. . use no reproachfull language against any man, nor curse, or revile. for improperations and imprecations will rather betray thy affections than in any manner, hurt him against whom thou utters them. [ ] th. be not hasty to believe flying reports to the disparagement of any hawkins iii. . thou oughtest not too suddenly to believe a flying rumour of a friend, or any other. but let charity guid thy judgment, untill more certainty: for by this meanes thou securest his reputation, and frees thy self of rashness. st. wear not your cloths, foul, unript or dusty but see they be brush'd once every day at least and take heed that you approach not to any uncleanness chapter v. . que vos habits ne demeurent point sales, déchirez, couuerts de poussiere, ou pelez. qu'ils soient tous les iours du moins vne fois nettoyez auec les époussettes. et prenez bien garde aussi en quel lieu vous vous assoirez, où vous vous mettrez à genoux, où vous vous accouderez, que le lieu ne soit point malpropre, ny reply d'immondices. ne portez point le manteau sur le bras, à l'imitation des fanfarons. et mettant bas ou vostre robbe, ou vôtre mãteau, pliez les bien proprement & adroitement, & prenez bien garde où vous les posez. do not let your clothes be dirty, torn, covered with dust or threadbare. have them brushed at least once a day. and take care also in what place you sit down, or kneel, or rest your elbows, that it be not unfit or filthy. do not carry your cloak over your arm after the manner of swaggerers. and when you take off your coat or cloak, fold them neatly and carefully, and take care where you put them. [sidenote: 'accomodate nature' is a phrase from a precept in hawkins concerning apparel.] nd. in your apparel be modest and endeavour to accomodate nature, rather than to procure admiration keep to the fashion of your equals such as are civil and orderly with respect to times and places chapter v. . choisissez tousiours des habits semblables à ceux de vos compagnons qui passent pour les plus honnestes & moderez, en considerant les lieux & les temps auec discretion: & outre cela, faites qu'en ce poinct vous paroissiez souhaitter d'estre vestu le plus simplement & modestement de tous vos égaux, bien plustost que d'affecter les plus beaux vestements. always choose clothes like those of your companions who pass for the most genteel and moderate, in discreet consideration of time and place: and more, make it a point to be the most simply and modestly dressed of all your equals, rather than to affect the finest raiment. d. run not in the streets, neither go too slowly nor with mouth open go not shaking y'r arms [stamping, or shuffling; nor pull up your stockings in the street. walk] not upon the toes, nor in a dancing [or skipping manner, nor yet with measured steps. strike not the heels together, nor stoop when there is no occasion] chapter vi. . faites en sorte quand vous marchez, de ne pas faire des démarches precipitées, d'auoir la bouche ouuerte & comme beante, & de ne vous trop demener le corps, ou le pancher, ou laisser vos mains pendantes, ou remuer & secoüer les bras; sans frapper trop rudement la terre, ou letter à vos pieds de part & d'autre. cette sorte d'action demande encore ces conditions, que l'on ne s'arreste pas à retirer ses chausses en haut, dans le chemin, que l'on ne marche sur les extremitez des pieds, ny en sautillant ou s'eleuant, comme il se pratique en la dance, que l'on ne courbe point le corps, que l'on ne baisse point la teste, qne l'on n'auance point à pas cõptez, que l'on ne se choque point les talons l'un contre l'autre en entrant dans l'eglise, que l'on ne reste point teste nuë a la sortie. si la deuotion n'y oblige, comme lors qu'il est question d'accompagner le tres-sainct sacrement. in walking guard against hurried steps, or having your mouth open and gaping; and do not move your body too much, or stoop, or let your hands hang down, or move and shake your arms; walk without striking the ground too hard or throwing your feet this way and that. that sort of action also demands these conditions,--not to stop to pull up one's stockings in the street, not to walk on the toes, or in a skipping rising as in dancing; do not stoop, nor bend the head; do not advance with measured steps; do not strike the heels against each other on entering church, nor leave it bareheaded, unless devotion requires it, as in accompanying the holy sacrament. th. play not the peacock, looking everywhere about you, to see if you be well deck't, if your shoes fit well if your stockings sit neatly, and cloths handsomely. chapter vi. . ne vous amusez pas à vous quarer comme vn paon, & regarder superbement autour de vous, si vous estes bien mis, & bien chaussé, si vos hauts-dechausses & vos autres habits vous sont bienfaits. ne sortez point de vostre chãbre, portant vostre plume à vostre bouche, ou sur vostre aureille. ne vous amusez pas à mettre des fleurs à vos aureilles, à vostre bonnet, ou à vostre chappeau. ne tenez point vostre mouchoir à la main, ou pendu à vostre bouche, ny à vostre ceinture, ny sous vostre aiselle, ny sur vostre espaule, ou caché sous vostre robbe. mettez-le en lieu d'où il ne puisse être veu, & il puisse estre toutesfois cõmodément tiré, dez qu'il en sera besoin. ne le presentez iamais à personne, s'il n'est tout blanc, ou presque pas deployé. do not delight in strutting like a peacock, or look proudly around to see if you are well decked, if your breeches and other clothes fit well. do not leave your room carrying your pen in your mouth or behind your ear. do not indulge yourself by putting flowers in your ears, cap, or hat. do not hold your pocket-handkerchief in your hand, hanging from your mouth, at your girdle, under your armpit, on your shoulder, or stuffed under your coat. put it in some place where it cannot be seen, but from whence you may easily draw it when you want it. never offer it to anybody unless it be quite clean, or hardly unfolded. th. eat not in the streets, nor in ye house, out of season. chapter vi. . ne marchez jamais par les chemins, en mangeant, soil seul ou en compagnie, & particulierement parmy la foule de la ville. ne vous mettez pas mesme à manger en la maison hors de temps du repas, & du moins abstenez vous en, quand il s'y rencontrera quelqu'vn. never walk on the roads eating, whether alone or in company, especially amid the crowd in a town. do not set to eating even in the house out of meal-times; at least abstain from it in the presence of others. th. associate yourself with men of good quality if you esteem your own reputation; for 'tis better to be alone than in bad company. chapter vi. . et si, vous voulez passer pour honneste, accostez vous tousiours des gents-de-bien, si vous n'en trouuez pas la commodité, ou par ce que vous n'en connoissez point, ou pour quelqu'autre raison, il vaut tousiours mieux que vous alliez seul, qu'en mauuaise compagnie. if you wish to pass as genteel, always go with well-bred people; if you cannot get the chance,--from not knowing any, or any other reason,--it is always better to go alone than in bad company. th. in walking up and down in a house, only with one in company if he be greater than yourself, at the first give him the right hand and stop not till he does and be not the first that turns, and when you do turn let it be with your face towards him, it he be a man of great quality, walk not with him cheek by jowl but somewhat behind him; but yet in such a manner that he may easily speak to you. [sidenote: the repetition of the feminine "elle" refers to 'vne personne,' in the first line, although the masculine ('qu'il' and 's'il') has twice followed it. there is no allusion to the female sex in the french maxims.] chapter vi. . si vous promenez auec vne personne seule dans la maison, & qu'il soil d'vne conditiõ qui luy fasse meriter quelque deference, dés le premier pas de la promenade, ne manquez pas de luy donner la droite: ne cessez point de marcher, s'il ne vient à s'arrester: ne changez pas le premier le diuertissement, & en vous tournant, ne luy montrez iamais les épaules; mais tousiours le visage. si elle est dans vne charge releuée, gardez bien de marcher d'vn pas tout à fait égal; mais suiuez tant soit pen derriere, auec tant de iustesse pourtant & de moderatiõ, qu'elle vous puisse bien parler sans s'incõmoder. si elle vous est égale allez d'un mesme pas tout le long de la promenade, & ne tournez pas tovsiours le premier, à chaque bout de champ; ne faites pas si souuent des pauses au milieu du chemin sans suiet. car cette liberté ressent sa grandeur & donne du mécontentement. celuy qui tient le milieu dans vne compagnie dont il est enuironné, si ceux qui la composent, sont égaux, ou presque égaux, il se doit tourner vne fois à droit dans la promenade, & s'ils se rencontrent notablement inegaux, il se doit plus souuent tourner vers le plus qualifié. enfin que ceux qui l'enuironnent, viennent tousiours à se détourner de son costé & en mesme temps que luy, non point deuant ny apres; puis qu'il est comme le but de la promenade. if you are walking about the house alone with a person whose rank demands some deference, at the very first step be sure and give him the right hand: do not stop walking if he does not wish to stop: be not the first to change the diversion, and, in turning, never show him your shoulder but always your face. if he has a high public appointment take care not to walk quite side by side with him but a very little behind him with so much exactness and moderation that he may be able to speak to you without inconvenience. if he is your equal in rank, keep step with him during the whole walk, and do not always turn first at every end of the walk. do not stop often midway without reason, such liberty touches his dignity and gives dissatisfaction. he who is the centre of the company by whom he is surrounded ought, if those of whom it consists are equal or nearly equal in rank, always to turn to the right once during the walk, and if they are manifestly unequal, he should oftenest turn towards the most distinguished. lastly those who are about him should always turn round towards his side and at the same time as he, neither before nor after, as he is, so to say, the object of the walk. th. let your conversation be without malice or envy, for 'tis a sign of a tractable and commendable nature: & in all causes of passion admit reason to govern hawkins v. . let thy conversation be without malice or envye, for that is a signe of a tractable and commendable nature. and in all causes of passion, admit reason for thy governesse. so shall thy reputation be either altogether inviolable, or at the least not stayned with common tinctures. th. never express anything unbecoming, nor act against the rules moral before your inferiours [sidenote: walker: 'a man should not divertise himself with his inferiors, nor make his servants privy to his infirmities and failures.'] hawkins v. . never expresse any thing unbeseeming, nor act against the rules morall, before thy inferiours, for in these things, thy own guilt will multiply crimes by example, and as it were, confirme ill by authority. th. be not immodest in urging your friends to discover a secret [sidenote: hawkins uses the word 'farce' instead of 'stuff.'] hawkins v. . be not immodest in urging thy friend to discover his secrets; lest an accidentall discovery of them work a breach in your amitye. st. utter not base and frivilous things amongst grave and learn'd men nor very difficult questions or subjects, among the ignorant or things hard to be believed, stuff not your discourse with sentences amongst your betters nor equals chapter vii. . dans la conuersation de gents doctes & habiles ne debitez pas des bagatelles, & n'auancez pas des discours trop releuez parmy les ignorants, qu'ils ne soient po[note: word missing here] capables d'entendre, ou qu'ils ne puissent pas croire fort facilement. ne debutez pas toûjours par des prouerbes, particulierement parmy vos égaux, & bien moins auec vos superieurs. ne parlez point de choses à cõtr[~e]teps, ou qui puissent choquer les esprits de vos auditeurs. parmy les banquets, & dans les iours de resioüissance ne mettez point sur le tapis de tristes nouuelles, point de recits de rudes calamitez, point d'ordures, point de deshõnestetez, point d'afflictions. bien au cõtraire si tels discours se trouuent entamez par quelqu'autre, faites vostre possible pour en détourner adroictement la suitte. ne contez iamais vos songes qu'à de vos confidents, & encore que ce soit pour profiter de leur interpretation; vous gardant bien d'y donner aucune croyance. [sidenote: walker says--'nor tell your dreams when perhaps your best waking actions are not worth the reciting.'] when talking with learned and clever men, do not introduce trifles, and do not bring forward too advanced conversation before ignorant people which they cannot understand nor easily believe. do not always begin with proverbs, especially among your equals, and still less with your superiors. do not speak of things out of place, or of such as may shock your hearers. at banquets and on days of rejoicing do not bring up sorrowful news or accounts of sad calamities, no filth, nothing improper, nothing afflicting. on the contrary, if such conversation is begun by any one else, do your best adroitly to turn the subject. never relate your dreams except to your confidants, and then only to profit by their interpretation, taking care not to put the least belief in it. d. speak not of doleful things in a time of mirth or at the table; speak not of melancholy things as death and wounds, and if others mention them change if you can the discourse tell not your dreams, but to your intimate friend _(the substance of rule is in the french maxim quoted under the previous rule ( ), beginning with the third sentence, 'ne parlez point, etc.')_ d. a man ought not to value himself of his atchievements or rare qua[lities, his riches, tit]les virtue or kindred[; but he need not speak meanly of himself.] chapter vii. . vne personne bien nourrie ne s'amuse iamais à faire parade de ses belles actions, de son esprit, de sa vertu, & de ses autres bonnes & loüables qualitez, au cõtraire il ne faut iamais s'entretenir auec les autres de sa haute naissance, ou de la noblesse de ses parents, de ses richesses, ny de ses grandeurs, si l'on n'y est contrainct. ii ne faut pas aussi se raualler entierement. a well-bred person never makes parade of his good actions, wit, virtue, and other good and praiseworthy qualities; on the contrary, one ought never to speak with another about his high birth, the nobility of his parents, his wealth or dignities, unless obliged to do so. but one need not efface himself altogether. 'th break not a jest where none take pleasure in mirth laugh not aloud, nor at all without occasion, deride no man's misfortune, tho' there seem to be some cause chapter vii. . il ne faut pas se mettre sur la raillerie, quãd il n'est point temps de solastrer. gardez-vous bien d'éclater en risées, d'y passer les bornes de la bienseance, & de le faire sans un suiet raisonnable, pour suiure l'inclinatiõ qui vous porte à rire. ne prenez iamais suiet de rire du malheur d'autruy, quoy qu'il semble en quelque façon digne de risée. jesting must be avoided when it is out of season. beware of bursting out into laughter, beyond the limits of decorum, and of doing so without reasonable cause, merely from an inclination to laugh. never laugh at the misfortunes of others, although they seem in some sort laughable th speak not injurious words neither in jest nor earnest scoff at none although they give occasion chapter vii. . ne donnez iamais de sobriquet, soit dans le jeu, ou bien hors du jeu. gardez vous bien de picquer qui que ce puisse estre; ne vous mocquez d'aucune personne, particulierement d'entre celles qui sont qualifiées, quoy qu'auec occasion. never give nicknames, whether in fun or not. take care not to hurt anybody, whoever it may be; do not mock any one, especially persons of distinction, although there be occasion. th be not forward but friendly and courteous; the first to salute hear and answer & be not pensive when it's a time to converse. chapter vii. . ne vous rendez point morne & de fâcheux abord; mais affable & prompt à rendre de bons offices, & soyez toûjours le premier à saluër. entendez bien ce que l'on vous dit & y respondez; ne vous retirez point à l'écart, quand le deuoir vous engage à la conversation. do not be glum and unfriendly of approach; but affable, prompt in rendering kind offices, and always the first to salute. listen carefully to what is said and respond; do not keep aloof when duty requires you to take a share in the conversation. th. detract not from others neither be excessive in commending. chapter vii. . gardez vous bien de medire d'aucune personne ou de vous entretenir des affaires d'autruy. et mesme souuenez vous de garder la moderation dans vos loüanges. [sidenote: walker says: 'carry even between adulation and soureness.'] take care not to speak ill of any one or to gossip of other people's affairs. at the same time do not forget moderation in your praises. _(dr. toner thinks the last word of rule is written 'commanding.' sparks has 'commending.')_ th. go not thither, where you know not, whether you shall be welcome or not. give not advice whth being ask'd & when desired do it briefly chapter vii. . ne vous ingerez pas dans les entretiens & les consultations, où vous ne serez pas asseuré d'estre le bien venu. ne dites iamais vostre aduis des affaires que l'on ne vous l'ait demandé, si toutesfois vous n'estes le premier en authorité, & que ce ne soit point à contre-temps, ou sans apparence de quelque auantage. quand vous en estes prié, abregez vostre discours, & prenez de bonne heure le noeud de l'affaire à demesler. do not force yourself into interviews or consultations at which you are not sure of being welcome. never give your advice on matters when it has not been asked, unless you happen to be the highest in authority; and do not let it be done out of place or without prospect of any benefit. when your opinion is requested, be brief, and reach quickly the knot of the matter under discussion. th if two contend together take not the part of either unconstrained, and be not obstinate in your opinion, in things indiferent be of the major side. chapter vii. . si deux personnes out quelque chose à decider ensemble, ne prenez le party ny de l'vn, ny de l'autre, si quelque grãde raison ne vous y oblige. ne soustenez pas vos sentiments auec vne trop grande obstination. dans les matieres où les opiniõs sont libres, prenez tousiours le party qui est le plus appuyé. [sidenote: walker says: 'thrust not your self to be moderator or umpire in controversies, till required'] if two persons have anything to decide between themselves do not take the part of either unless some pressing reason obliges you to do so. do not maintain your ideas too obstinately. in matters in which opinions are free, always take the side which has the most support. th reprehend not the imperfections of others for that belongs to parents masters and superiors. chapter vii. . ne faites pas le censeur & le juge des fautes d'autruy, car cela n'appartient qu'aux maistres, aux peres, & à ceux qui out quelque superiorité. il vous est toutesfois permis de faire paroistre l'auersion que vous en cõceuez. et vous pouuez bien quelquesfois dõner aduis avantageux au defaillants. do not be the censor and judge of other peoples' faults, for that only belongs to masters, fathers, and those who have some superiority. but it is nevertheless allowable for you to show an aversion you have conceived. and at times you may give advantageous advice to those who are in the wrong. st. gaze not at the marks or blemishes of others and ask not how they came. what you may speak in secret to your friend deliver not before others chapter vii. . ne vous amusez pas à considerer curieusement les defauts ou les taches, quoy que naturelles, particulierement si elles se rencontrent au visage, & ne vous enquerez pas d'où elles out precedé. ce que vous diriez bien volontiers en l'oreille à vn amy, doit estre conserué sous la clef du sil[~e]ce, lors que vous vous trouuez en cempagnie take no pleasure in examining curiously defects or blemishes, although natural, especially if they be in the face, nor enquire what they proceed from. what you would readily say in the ear of a friend ought to be preserved under the key of silence when you are in society. d. speak not in an unknown tongue in company but in your own language and that as those of quality do and not as y'e vulgar; sublime matters treat seriously. chapter vii. . ne vous seruez iamais en vos discours & n'employez vne langue qui ne vous est pas bien cognuë & familiere, si ce n'est en vne occasion bien pressante, pour donner plus clairement à connoistre vostre pensée. parlez tousiours en la vostre maternelle & natale, non pas grossierement, comme la lie du peuple, ou les pauures chambrieres; mais comme les plus delicats & les plus gros bourgeois, auec erudition & auec elegance. et prenez à tâche d'obseruer en vos discours les regles de l'honnesteté & de la modestie; & vous gardez bien de ces contes vn peu trop libres; ne les faites ny en l'oreille d'vn autre, ny ne les poussez par jeu auec profusion. n'employez point de termes bas & raualez ou populaires en des matieres hautes & reluées. in your conversation never use a language with which you are not thoroughly acquainted and familiar, unless in some very urgent case to render your idea more clearly. always speak in your native and mother tongue, not coarsely like the dregs of the people, or poor chamber-maids, but like the most refined and well-to-do citizens, with erudition and elegance. and in your discourse take care to observe the rules of decorum and modesty, and be sure to avoid rather risky tales; do not whisper such to another, and do not indulge them too frequently in sport. do not use low, base or vulgar expressions when treating of serious and sublime subjects. 'd. think before you speak pronounce not imperfectly nor bring out your words too hastily but orderly and distinctly chapter vii. . ne vous mettez point à discourir, que vous ne vous y soyez bien preparé, & que vous n'ayez bien estudié vostre suiet. dans l'entretien ordinaire, n'allez point chercher de periphrases, point de subtilitez, ny de figures. ne confondez point vos paroles dans les coutumes d'vne langue trop brusque & begayante; mais aussi, ne parlez pas si lentement, & à tant de reprises, que vous donniez de l'ennuy. do not begin speaking unless you are quite prepared, and have well studied your subject. in ordinary conversation do not seek periphrases, subtleties, or figures of speech. do not let your words become confused by too abrupt or hesitating a delivery, and do not let your speech be so slow and broken as to become tedious. th when another speaks be attentive your self and disturb not the audience if any hesitate in his words help him not nor prompt him without desired, interrupt him not, nor answer him till his speech be ended chapter vii. . quand quelque autre parle, prenez garde de donner suiet à ses auditeurs de s'en detourner; & pour vous, écoutez-le fauorablement & auec attention, sans destourner les yeux d'vn autre costé, ou vous arrester à quelqu'autre pensée. si quelqu'vn a de la peine à tirer ses mots comme par force, ne vous amusez pas á luy en suggerer, pour faire paroistre quelque desir d'aider celuy qui parle, si'l ne vient à vous en prier, ou que le tout se passe dãs le particulier, & qu'encore cette persõne soit de vos plus intimes & familiers amis; & apres tout ne l'interrompez point, & ne luy repliquez en aucune maniere, iusques à ce que luy-mesme ait acheué. [sidenote: hawkins: 'if any drawl forth his words, help him not'] [sidenote: the later french book has: 'it is not civil when a person of quality hesitates or stops in his discourse for you to strike in, though with pretence of helping his memory.'] when another person is speaking, beware of drawing off the attention of his hearers; and as for yourself, listen to him favourably and attentively, without turning your eyes aside or directing your thoughts elsewhere. if any one finds difficulty in expressing himself, do not amuse yourself by suggesting words to him, so as to show a desire to assist the speaker unless he so requests or you are quite in private, and the person is also one of your most intimate and familiar friends. above all, do not interrupt him, and in nowise reply to him until he has finished. th. in the midst of discourse ask [not what it is about], but if you perceive any stop because of [your arrival, rather request the speaker] to proceed: if a person of quality comes in while your conversing its handsome to repeat what was said before chapter vii. . quand vous arriuez sur la moitié de quelque discours, ne vous enquerez pas du suiet de l'entretien; car cela est trop hardy & ressent l'homme d'authorité. suppliez plûtost honnestement & courtoisement que l'on le poursuiue, si vous voyez qu'il se soir interronpu à vostre arriuée, parquel que sorte de deference. au contraire s'il suruient quelqu'vn, lors que vous parlerez, & particulierement si c'est vne personne qualifiée & de merite, il est de la bien-seance de faire vne petite recapitulation de ce qui a esté auancé, & de poursuiure la deduction de tout le reste de la matiere. [sidenote: hawkins: 'it is seemely to make a little epilogue and briefe collection of what thou deliveredst.] if you arrive in the middle of any discussion, do not ask what it is about; for that is too bold and savours of one in authority. rather ask, genteelly and courteously, that it may be continued, if you see that the speaker has paused on your arrival, out of civility. on the other hand, if any one comes whilst you are speaking, and particularly if it be a person of quality or of merit, it is in accordance with good manners to give a slight recapitulation of what has been advanced, and then carry out the deduction of all the rest of the matter. th. while you are talking, point not with your finger at him of whom you discourse nor approach too near him to whom you talk especially to his face chapter vi. . ne montrez point au doigt la personne dont vous parlez, & ne vous approchez point trop prés de celuy que vous entretenez, non plus que de son visage, à qui il faut toûjours porter quelque reuerence. do not point your finger at the person of whom you are speaking, and do not go too near any one with whom you are conversing, especially not near his face, which should always be held in some reverence. th. treat with men at fit times about business & whisper not in the company of others chapter vi. . si vous auez vne affaire particuliere à communiquer a l'vne de deux personnes ou de plusieurs qui s'entretiennent ensemble, expediez en trois mots, & ne luy dites pas en l'oreille ce que vous auez à proposer; mais si la chose est secrette, tirez-la tant soit peu à l'écart, s'il vous est possible, & que rien ne vous en empesche; parlez luy en la langue que les assistants entendent. if you have any particular matter to communicate to one of two persons or of several, who are talking together, finish it off in three words, and do not whisper in his ear what you have to say; if the matter be secret, take him aside a little, if possible, and nothing prevents; speak to him in the language which those present understand. th. make no comparisons and if any of the company be commended for any brave act of virtue, commend not another for the same chapter vii. . abstenez vous de faire des comparaisons des personnes l'vne auec l'autre; et partant si l'on donne des loüanges à quelqu'vn pour vne bonne action, ou pour sa vertu, gardez vous bien de loüer la mesme vertu en quelque autre. car toute comparaison se trouue odieuse. abstain from drawing comparisons between different persons; and if any one is praised for a good action, or for his virtue, do not praise another for the same. for all comparisons are odious. th. be not apt to relate news if you know not the truth thereof. in discoursing of things you have heard name not your author always a secret discover not chapter vii. . ne faites pas aisément dessein de redire aux autres les nouuelles & les rapports qui auront couru touchant les rencontres des affaires, si vous n'auez vn garant de leur verité. et ne vous amusez pas en racontant ces vau-de-villes, d'en citer l'autheur, que vous ne soyez bien asseuré qu'il ne le trouuera pas mauuais. gardez tousiours bien le secret qui vous a esté confié & ne le ditez à personne, de crainte qu'il ne soit diuulgué. [sidenote: the later french book says: 'discover not the secret of a friend, it argues a shallow understanding and a weakness.'] be not apt to relate rumours of events, if you know not their truth. and in repeating such things do not mention your authority, unless you are sure he will like it. always keep the secret confided to you; tell it to no one, lest it be divulged. th. be not tedious in discourse or in reading unless you find the company pleased therewith chapter vii. . si vous racontez, ou lisez, ou entreprenez d'en prouuer par raisonnements quoy que ce soit, tranchez-le-court, & particulierement quand le suiet en est peu important, ou quand vous reconnoissez les dégousts qu'en ont les auditeurs. if you are relating or reading anything, or arguing any point, be brief,--particularly when the subject is of small importance, or if you detect weariness in the listeners. st. be not curious to know the affairs of others neither approach to those that speak in private chapter vii. . ne témoignez pas de curiosité dans les affaires d'autruy, & ne vous approchez dé là où l'on parle en secret. do not show any curiosity about other people's affairs, and do not go near the place where persons are talking in private. d. undertake not what you cannot perform but be carefull to keep your promise chapter vii. . ne vous chargez point d'vne chose dont vous ne vous pouuez acquiter; maintenez ce que vous auez promis. do not undertake anything that you cannot perform; keep your promise. d. when you deliver a matter do it without passion & with discretion, however mean y'e person be you do it too chapter vii. . quand vous faites vne ambassade, vn rapport, ou donnez l'ouuerture de quelque affaire, taschez de le faire sans passion & auec discretion, soit que vous ayez à traitter auec personnes de peu, ou personnes de qualité. when you fulfil a mission, deliver a report, or undertake the opening of any matter, try to do it dispassionately and discreetly, whether those with whom you have to treat be of humble or high position. th. when your superiours talk to any body hearken not neither speak nor laugh chapter vii. . quand ceux qui out sur vous commandement, parlent à quelqu'vn, gardez vous bien de parler, de rire, ou de les escouter. when your superiors talk to any one, do not speak, laugh, or listen. th. in company of these of higher quality than yourself speak not till you are ask'd a question then stand upright put of your hat & answer in few words chapter vii. . estant auec de plus grands que vous, principalement s'ils ont du pouuoir sur vous, ne parlez pas deuant que d'estre interrogé, & alors leuez-vous debout, découurez-vous, & répondez en pen de mots, si toutesfois l'on ne vous donne congé de vous asseoir, ou de vous tenir couuert. being with persons of higher position than yourself, and especially if they have authority over you, do not speak until you are interrogated; then rise, remove your hat, and answer in few words,--unless indeed you are invited to remain seated, or to keep your hat on. th. in disputes, be not so desirous to overcome as not to give liberty to each one to deliver his opinion and submit to y'e judgment of y'e major part especially if they are judges of the dispute. chapter vii. . dans les disputes qui arriuent, principalement en conuersation, ne soyez pas si desireux de gagner, que vous ne laissiez dire a chacun son aduis, & soit que vous ayez tort, ou raison, vous deuez acquiescer au jugement du plus grand nombre, ou mesme des plus fascheux, & beaucoup plus de ceux de qui vous dépendez, ou qui sont juges de la dispute. in disputes that arise, especially in conversation, be not so desirous to overcome as not to leave each one liberty to deliver his opinion; and whether you be wrong or right you should acquiesce in the judgment of the majority, or even of the most persistent, all the more if they are your masters or patrons, or judges of the discussion. th. [let your bearing be such] as becomes a man grave settled and attentive [to what is said, without being too serious. contra]dict not at every turn what others say chapter vii. . vostre maintien soit d'homme moderément graue, posé, & attentif a ce qui se dit, afin de n'auoir pas à dire à tout propos: _comment ditez-vous? comment se passe cela? je ne vous ay pas entendu_, & d'autres semblables niaiseries. . ne contredictes pas a tout bout de champ, à ce que disent les autres, en contestant & disant: il n'est pas ainsi, la chose est comme je la dy; mais rapportez-vous en à l'opinion des autres principalement dans les choses, qui sont de peu de consequence. . let your bearing be that of a moderately grave, serious man, and attentive to what is said so as to avoid having to say every moment: _'how did that happen? i did not understand you,'_--and other similar foolish remarks. . do not continually contradict what others say, by disputing and saying: 'that is not the case, it is as i say;' but defer to the opinion of others, especially in matters of small consequence. th. be not tedious in discourse, make not many digressions, nor repeat often the same manner of discourse chapter vii. . n'employez pas vn an à vostre preface, & en certaines longues excuses ou ceremonies, en disant, _monsieur: excusez-moy! si ie ne sçay pas si bien dire,_ &c., _toutesfois pour vous obeyr_, &c., & autres semblables ennuyeuses and sottes trainées de paroles; mais entrez promptement en matiere tant que faire se pourra auec vne hardiesse moderée: et puis poursuiuez, sans vous troubler, iusques à la fin. ne soyez pas long; sans beaucoup de digressions, ne reïterez pas souuent vne mesme façon de dire. do not take a year in your preface, or in certain long apologies or ceremonies, such as: '_pardon me sir if i do not know how to express myself sufficiently well_, &.c.; _nevertheless in order to obey you_,' &c., and other similarly tedious and stupid circumlocutions; but enter promptly on the subject, as far as possible, with moderate boldness; then continue to the end without hesitation. do not be prolix; avoid digressions; do not often reiterate the same expression. th. speak not evil of the absent for it is unjust hawkins vi. . speak not evill of one absent, for it is unjust to detract from the worth of any, or besmeare a good name by condemning, where the party is not present, to clear himselfe, or undergo a rationall conviction. th. being set at meat scratch not neither spit cough or blow your nose except there's a necessity for it chapter viii. . estant assis à table, ne vous grattez point, & vous gardez tant que vous pourrez, de cracher, de tousser, de vous moucher: que s'il y a necessité, faites-le adroitement, sans beaucoup de bruit, en tournant le visage de costé. being seated at the table, do not scratch yourself, and if you can help it, do not spit, cough, or blow your nose; should either be necessary do it adroitly, with least noise, turning the face aside. _(in the washington ms. there is a notable omission of all that is said in the french and english books concerning grace before meat. at washington's table grace was never said.)_ st. make no shew of taking great delight in your victuals, feed not with greediness; cut your bread with a knife, lean not on the table neither find fault with what you eat. chapter viii. . ne prenez pas vostre repas en gourmand. . ne rompez point le pain auec les mains, mais auec le cousteau, si ce n'estoit vn pain fort petil & tout frais, & que tous les autres fissent de mesme, ou la pluspart. . ne vous iettez pas sur table, à bras estendus iusques aux coudes, & ne vous accostez pas indecemment les épaules ou les bras sur vostre siege. . ne monstrez nullement d'avoir pris plaisir à la viande, ou au vin; mais si celuy que vous traittez, vous en demande vostre goust, vous pourrez luy respondre avec modestie & prudence: beaucoup moins faut il blasmer les viandes, ou en demander d'autres, ny dauantage. . eat not like a glutton. ( .) do not break the bread with your hands, but with a knife; unless, indeed, it is a small and quite fresh roll, and where the others present, or most of them, use their hands. ( .) do not throw yourself on the table, as far as the elbows, nor unbecomingly rest shoulders or arms on your chair. ( .) do not make a show of taking delight in your food, or in the wine; but if your host inquires your preference you should answer with modesty and tact: whatever you do, do not complain of the dishes, ask for others, or anything of that sort. _(at washington's table it was a custom to invite each guest to call for the wine he preferred.)_ d. take no salt or cut bread with your knife greasy. chapter viii. . prenant du sel, gardez que le cousteau ne soit gras: quand il le faut nettoyer, ou la fourchette on le peut faire honnestement auec vn peu de pain, ou comme il se pratique en certains lieux, auec la serviette, mais iamais sur le pain entier. in taking salt be careful that the knife is not greasy: when necessary your knife or fork may with propriety be cleaned on a piece of bread,--or, as is done in some places, with the napkin,--but it must never be wiped on the whole loaf. d. entertaining any one at table it is decent to present him w't meat, undertake not to help others undesired by y'e master chapter viii. . traittant quelqu'vn, il est de la bien-seance de le seruir en table, & luy presenter des viandes, voire mesme de celles qui sont proches de luy. que si l'on estoit invité chez autruy, il est plus à propos d'attendre que le maistre ou vn autre serue, que de prendre des viandes soy-mesme, si ce n'estoit que le maistre priast les conuiez de prendre librement, ou que l'on fust en maison familiere. l'on se doit aussi peu ingerer à seruir les autres hors de sa maison, où l'on avoir peu de pouuoir, n'étoit que le nombre des conuiez fust grand, & que le maistre de la maison ne peust pas avoir l'oeil sur tout; et pour lors l'on peut seruir ceux qui sont proches de soy. when entertaining any one it is polite to serve him at table and to present the dishes to him, even such as are near him. when invited by another it is more seemly to wait to be served by the host, or some one else, than to take the dishes oneself, unless the host begs the guests to help themselves freely, or one is at home in the house. one ought also not to be officious in helping others when out of one's own house, where one has but little authority, unless the guests are very numerous and the host cannot attend to everything; in that case we may help those nearest us. [ ] th. if you soak bread in the sauce let it be no more than what you put in your mouth at a time and blow not your broth at table but stay till cools of it self chapter viii. . si vous trempez en la saulce le pain ou la chair, ne les trempez pas derechef, apres y auoir mordu, trempez-y à chaque fois vn morceau mediocre, qui se puisse manger tout d'vne bouchée. . ne soufflez point sur les viandes; mais si elles sont chaudes, attendez qu'elles se refroidissent: le potage se pourra refroidir, le remuant modestement auec la cuilliere, mais il ne sied pas bien de humer son potage en table, il le faut prendre auec la cuilliere. if you dip bread or meat into the gravy, do not do so immediately after biting a piece off, but dip each time a moderately-sized morsel which can be eaten at one mouthful. ( .) do not blow on the viands, but if they are hot, wait till they cool. soup may be cooled by stirring it gently with a spoon, but it is not becoming to drink up the soup at table. it should be taken with a spoon. th. put not your meat to your mouth with your knife in your hand neither spit forth the stones of any fruit pye upon a dish nor cast anything under the table chapter viii. . ne portez pas le morceau à la bouche, tenant le cousteau en la main, à la mode des villageois. . aussi ne semble-il bien seant de cracher les noyaux de prunes, cerises, ou autre chose semblable sur le plat; mais premierement on doit les recueiller decemment, comme il a esté dit, en la main gauche, l'approchant à la bouche, & puis les mettre sur le bord de l'assiette. [sidenote: maxim is much longer] . l'on ne doit point jetter sous la table, ou par terre, les os, les écorces, le vin ou autre chose semblable. do not carry a morsel to your mouth, knife in hand, like the rustics. ( .) moreover, it does not seem well bred to spit out the kernels of prunes, cherries, or anything of the kind, on your plate, but, as already said, they should be decently collected in the left hand (raised to the mouth), and placed on the edge of the plate. ( .) bones, peel, wine, and the like, should not be thrown under the table. th. its unbecoming to stoop much to one's meat keep your fingers clean & when foul wipe them on a corner of your table napkin. chapter viii. . il est messeant de se baisser beaucoup sur son escuelle ou sur la viande, c'est assez de s'encliner vn peu lors que l'on porte le morceau trempé à la bouche, de crainte de se salir, & puis redresser la teste. . ne vous nettoyez pas les mains à vostre pain, s'il est entier; toutesfois les ayant fort grasses, il semble que vous les puissiez nettoyer premierement à vn morceau de pain que vous ayez à manger tout à l'heure & puis à la seruiette, afin de ne la point tant salir: ce qui vous arriuera rarement, si vous sçauez vous seruir de la cuilliere, & de la fourchette, selon le style des plus honnestes. beaucoup moins deuez vous lêcher les doigts, principalement les sucçant auec grand bruit. it is ill-bred to stoop too close to one's porringer or the meat. it suffices to bend a little when conveying a soaked morsel to one's mouth, in order to avoid soiling oneself, then straighten up again. ( .) do not clean your hands on a loaf; if very greasy you might, it would seem, partly clean them on a bit of bread you are about to eat, then on your napkin, so as not to soil the latter too much: this will rarely happen if you know how to use spoon and fork in the most approved manner. much less should you lick your fingers, especially not suck them noisily. [ ] th. put not another bit into your mouth till the former be swallowed let not your morsels be too big for the jowls chapter viii. . ne portez pas le morceau à la bouche que l'autre ne soil auallé, & que tous soient tels qu'ils ne fassent pas enfler les jouës hors de mesure; ne vous seruez pas des deux mains pour vous mettre le morceau à la bouche, mais seruez vous d'ordinaire de la droite. carry not another morsel to the mouth till the other be swallowed, and let each be such as will not stretch the jaws beyond measure; do not take both hands to raise a morsel to the mouth, but, usually, serve yourself with the right hand. th. drink not nor talk with your mouth full neither gaze about you while you are a drinking chapter viii. . ne boiuez ayant le morceau en la bouche, ne demandez point à boire, ne parlez, ne vous versez point à boire, & ne boiuez cependant que vostre voisin boit, ou celuy qui est au haut bout. . en boiuant, ne regardez point çà & là. [sidenote: the later french book recommends keeping the eyes 'fixed at the bottom of the glass' while drinking.] do not drink with your mouth full of food; do not ask anything while drinking, nor talk, nor turn round; and do not drink because your neighbour does, or the head of the table. ( .) while drinking, gaze not here and there. th. drink not too leisurely nor yet too hastily. before and after drinking wipe your lips breath not then or ever with too great a noise, for its uncivil chapter viii. . ne boiuez point trop lentement ny trop à la haste, ny comme en maschant le vin, ny trop souuent ny sans eau, car c'est à faire aux yvrognes. deuant & apres que vous aurez beu, effuyez-vous les lévres, & ne respirez pas auec trop grand bruit, ny alors, ny iamais, car c'est vne chose bien inciuile. drink neither too slowly nor too hastily, nor as if gulping the wine, nor too frequently, nor without water--as drunkards do. wipe your lips before and after drinking, and do not breathe too loudly then or at any other time, for that is very inelegant. th. cleanse not your teeth with the table cloth napkin fork or knife but if others do it let it be done w't a pick tooth chapter viii. . ne vous nettoyez pas les dents auec la nappe, ou la seruiette, ny auec le doigt, la fourchette, ou le cousteau. ce seroit faire pis de le faire auec les ongles, mais faites-le auec le curedent. aussi ne semble-il estre bien-seant de se les nettoyer en table, si ce n'estoit que les autres le fissent, & que ce fust la coustume des mieux ciuilisez. do not clean your teeth with the tablecloth, napkin, finger, fork, or knife. it were still more objectionable to do so with the nails. use a toothpick. it also does not appear well-bred to pick them at table, unless others do so, and where such is a custom of the more gentlemanly. st. rince not your mouth in the presence of others chapter viii. . ne vous rincez point la bouche auec du vin, pour le reietter en presence des autres; mais sorty que vous serez de table, accoustumez vous à lauer les mains auec les autres. quant à la bouche, il semble n'estre pas à propos de la lauer en presence des gens, & partant quand l'on donne à lauer, mesme en table, l'on doit seulement lauer les mains. do not rinse your mouth with wine, to be rejected in the presence of others; but, having left the table, accustom yourself to wash your hands with the rest. as to the mouth, it does not appear proper to wash it in company at all, and consequently when an opportunity of washing is offered, even at the table, the hands only should be washed. d. it is out of use to call upon the company often to eat nor need you drink to others every time you drink chapter viii. . c'est chose peu loüable & presque aujourd'huy hors d'vsage, d'inuiter la compagnie à manger, principalement trop souuent & auec importunité, car il semble qu'on luy osté la liberté. beaucoup moins deuez-vous boire à autruy toutes les fois que vous boiuez: que si l'on boit à vous, vous pouuez le refuser modestement, remerciant de bonne grace, & confessant de vous rendre; ou bien essayez vn peu le vin par courtoisie, principalement auec gens qui sont accoustumez. à cela, & prennent le refus à iniure. it is not commendable, and now almost out of fashion, to call on the company to eat, especially to invite them too often and urgently, for it appears to take away their freedom. much less should you drink to others every time you drink: if one drinks to you, it is permissible to decline modestly, thanking him gracefully, and acknowledging your response; or you may well sip a little wine for courtesy, especially with people who are accustomed to it, and who are offended by refusal. d. in company of your betters be not [longer in eating] than they are lay not your arm but ar[ise with only a touch on the edge of the table.] chapter viii. . quand les autres ont acheué de manger, despechez vous aussi, & ne tenez pas les bras sur la table, mais posez les mains seulement sur le bout. when the rest have finished eating, you should do the same quickly; do not hold your arms on the table, but only place your hands on the edge of it. th. it belongs to y'e chiefest in company to unfold his napkin and fall to meat first, but he ought to begin in time & to dispatch with dexterity that y'e slowest may have time allowed him chapter viii. . c'est à faire au plus honnorable de la compagnie de déplier le premier sa seruiette, & toucher aux viandes: & partant les autres doiuent attendre paisiblement sans mettre la main à chose aucune deuant lui. . et au contraire il doit estre soigneux de commencer en son temps, de pouruoir à tout, d'entretenir les conuiez, & finir le tout auec telle addresse; qu'il donne temps aux plus tardifs de manger à leur aise, s'entretenant, s'il est de besoin, à gouster legerement des viandes, ou quand il est loisible de discourir à table; entremesler auec le manger quelque petit discours, afin que les autres puissent auec loisir d'acheuer. it is for the most distinguished member of the company to unfold first his napkin and touch the food, and the rest should wait quietly, without laying hand on anything before he does. ( .) on the other hand, he ought in due time to commence, to consider everything, entertaining the guests, and managing all so adroitly as to give time to the more dilatory to eat at their leisure; if necessary for this, slowly tasting the viands, or, when table-talk is permissible, introducing a little chat during the meal, so that the others can finish at their ease. [sidenote: toner has 'but' instead of 'put' in this rule.] th. be not angry at table whatever happens & if you have reason to be so, shew it not put on a chearfull countenance especially if there be strangers for good humour makes one dish of meat a feast chapter viii. . ne vous fâchez iamais en table, quoy qu'il aduienne, ou bien si vous vous fâchez, n'ent faites point de semblant, principalement y ayant des estrangers à table. [sidenote: hawkins vii. . 'a cheerefull countenance makes one dish a feast.'] never be angry at table, no matter what may happen, or even if you have cause for anger, do not show it, especially if strangers are present. [sidenote: there is a blank in the ms. after upper.] th. set not yourself at y'e upper [end] of y'e table but if it be your due or that y'e master of y'e house will have it so, contend not least you should trouble y'e company. chapter viii. . ne vous asséez point de vous mesme au haut-bout; miais s'il vous appartient, ou si le maistre du logis le veut ainsi, ne faites pas tant de resistance pour n'y point aller, que vous fachiez toute la compagnie. [sidenote: walker: 'desire not the highest place, nor be troublesome with impertinent debasing yourself by refusing,' etc.] seat not yourself voluntarily at the top; but if the place properly belongs to you, or the master of the house so wills, do not offer so much resistance to its acceptance as to annoy the company. th. if others talk at table be attentive but talk not with meat in your mouth chapter viii. . si on lit ou deuise en table, soyez attentif, & s'il faut parler, ne parlez point auec le morceau en la bouche. if there be reading or chat at table, be attentive, and if you have to speak, do not speak with your mouth full. th. when you speak of god or his attributes, let it be seriously & [with words of] reverence. honour & obey your natural parents altho they be poor hawkins vii. . let thy speeches be seriously reverent when thou speakest of god or his attributes, for to jest or utter thy selfe lightly in matters divine, is an unhappy impiety, provoking heaven to justice, and urging all men to suspect thy beliefe.--vii. _(unnumbered)_ honour and obey thy natural parents although they be poor; for if thy earthly parents cannot give thee riches and honour, yet thy heavenly father hath promised thee length of days. _(there is nothing in the french maxims corresponding to the second sentence of rule . the maxim nearest to the first sentence is the th of chapter i.:--"il se faut bien garder de prononcer aucuns nouueaux mots, quand l'on parle de dieu ou des saincts, & d'en faire de sots contes, soit tout bon, ou par raillerie." "avoid irreverent words in speaking of god, or of the saints, and of telling foolish stories about them, either in jest or earnest." compare also the last sentence of maxim vii, , ante, under rule .)_ th. let your recreations be manfull not sinfull. hawkins vii. _(unnumbered)._ let thy recreations be manful not sinful; there is a great vanity in the baiting of beasts, the bears and bulls lived quietly enough before the fall; it was our sin that set them together by the ears, rejoyce not therefore to see them fight, for that would be to glory in thy shame. th. labour to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire called conscience. hawkins vii. _(unnumbered)._ labour to keep alive in thy breast, that little sparke of celestial fire called conscience, for conscience to an evil man is a never dying worm, but unto a good man its a perpetual feast. [illustration: © brown bros. on her wedding day the greatest charm of the bride's costume lies in its simplicity] book of etiquette by lillian eichler volume i illustrated nelson doubleday, inc. garden city new york copyright, , by nelson doubleday, inc. all rights reserved printed in the united states preface success without culture is like old-fashioned strawberry short cake without the whipped cream. it has no flavor. there are certain little courteous observances, certain social formalities that bespeak the true lady, the true gentlemen. some of us call it good form. some of us call it culture. some of us call it etiquette. but we all admit that it makes the world a better place to live in. in italy, young men and women are considered _ben educato_, not when they can read and write, but when they know the established forms of convention--when they can show by a correct dignity and ease of manner that they are perfect in their knowledge of the rules of good society. and, after all, don't you yourself judge people by what they do, and say, and wear? don't you read in their manner and appearance the secret of their inner worth? isn't character and disposition revealed in the outer personality? perhaps you have heard the story of the "gentleman" who prided himself on being perfect in the art of etiquette. on one occasion, he passed a lake and heard a drowning man call for help. quickly he threw off his coat and was about to plunge into the water, when he suddenly remembered that he had never been introduced to the struggling victim. putting on his coat again, he proceeded on his way quite self-satisfied. this is an instance where common-sense would have been the better part of etiquette. too rigid an observance of the laws of good society makes them nothing short of an absurdity. the purpose of correct manners is not to enable us to strut about in society and command the admiring glances of the people around us--as the peacock, in its vanity, parades before onlookers in a proud dignity that is quite obviously assumed. the true service of etiquette is so to strengthen and simplify the social life that we are able to do what is absolutely correct and right without even stopping to think about it. that, then, is the purpose of the book of etiquette--to give to the reader so clear and definite an understanding of the social life that he will be able to have at all times, under all conditions, that unaffected grace and charm of manner that the french like to call _savoir faire_. it has been written, not for the exceedingly ill-bred or for the highly polished, but for those who find a certain sense of satisfaction in doing what is correct--sincere men and women who, in the performance of their business and social duties, find that there is a constant need for cordial and gracious relationship with those around them. if the following chapters awaken in the reader the desire for closer companionship with the vast world of human nature, of which we are all a part; if it takes from his nature all that is coarse, awkward and unrefined, substituting instead a gallantry of spirit and a gentleness of breeding; if it makes him a more loving and a more lovable person--then the book of etiquette will have served its purpose. incidentally, the author is indebted to mr. l. e. smith, without whose coöperation this book would never have been written. _lillian eichler._ contents chapter page part i i. introduction to etiquette what is etiquette?--laws of society--control of the impulses--regard for the rights of others--the danger of intolerance--why it pays to be agreeable--the simplest culture. ii. etiquette's reward the origin of manners--the manners of to-day--good society in america--the true lady and gentleman--the secret of social success--what manners will do for you--etiquette's reward. iii. engagements of special importance--the proposal--the engagement ring--announcing the engagement--the most usual method--announcing an engagement in the newspapers--engagement gifts--bridal showers--length of the engagement--responsibility for the wedding--families and friends. iv. wedding invitations and announcements the wedding invitation--size and material--kinds of envelopes-- addressing the envelopes--invitations to church wedding--invitation to home wedding--wedding in a friend's home--when cards are enclosed --invitations to second marriages--invitation to wedding anniversary --informal wedding invitation--acknowledging the formal wedding invitations--whom to invite--sending the invitations--recalling the wedding invitation--breaking an engagement--returning gifts-- when death intervenes. v. weddings the church wedding--attendants--the bridesmaids--rehearsals-- regarding the ushers--the wedding day--arriving at the church-- wedding music--the wedding procession--the ceremony--leaving the altar--rice, etc.--the wedding reception--the wedding breakfast-- the wedding present--acknowledging wedding presents--the home wedding --the second wedding--some important conventions--seeking advice-- wedding anniversaries--the silver wedding--the reception--tin and wooden weddings--the golden wedding--the golden wedding a glorious achievement. vi. the bride's outfit origin of the trousseau--the trousseau of to-day--about the linens --for the bride--the wedding dress--the bride's veil--wedding flowers--dress of the maid of honor--marrying in traveling dress. vii. funerals funeral customs--the funeral of to-day--when death enters the family--taking charge--announcing the death--some necessary preparations--the ladies of the family--the pall-bearers--duties of pall-bearers--the church funeral--order of precedence--the house funeral--a point of importance--removing signs of grief --seclusion during mourning--dress at funerals--interment and cremation--mourning dress--mourning dress for men--mourning stationery. viii. christenings announcing the birth of the child--responding to the announcement-- godparents--invitations to a christening--a church christening--the house christening--after the baptism--gifts. part ii i. introductions purpose of the introduction--creating conversation--when to introduce--importance of care--special introductions--when the name isn't heard--the correct introduction--group introductions-- the chance introduction--incomplete introductions--indirect introductions--the acknowledgment--forms of acknowledgment-- future recognition of introduction--introducing at dinner-- introducing at the dance--introducing at receptions--speaking without introduction--introducing children--cordiality in introductions. ii. letters of introduction the letter of introduction--presenting the letter--acknowledging a letter of introduction--model letters of introduction--the card of introduction--business introductions. iii. calls and calling customs the beginning of social calls--when calls are made--the proper length of a call--the day at home--dress for calls--paying the first call--calls of obligation--about returning calls--the call of condolence--the call of congratulations and inquiry-- the social calls of men--the invalid's call--asking a new acquaintance to call--the woman's business call--receiving calls--duties of the hostess--receiving the chance caller-- when the host is at home--taking leave of the hostess--the evening call--when gentlemen receive callers--making a chance call--informal calls. iv. visiting cards--and others your card a representative of you--general rules regarding cards --size of cards for women--size and material of cards for men-- titles on cards for women--cards for widows--the young lady's card--indicating the day at home--the married couple's card-- using jr. and sr.--titles on cards for men--professional cards for men--cards for mourning--when the woman goes a-calling--when more than one card is left--some more points about calls and cards--the chance call--simple card-leaving--should a stranger leave cards?--cards and business calls--when a man leaves cards --the man's chance call--about leaving and posting cards--leaving cards of inquiry--acknowledging cards of inquiry and condolence --announcement cards--when traveling--p.p.c. cards. v. invitations some general rules--invitation to a formal dance--accepting the invitation--for the informal dance--the dinner dance--the début dance--invitations for the subscription dance--acknowledging subscription dance invitations--invitation to public ball-- requesting an invitation--the dinner invitation--in honor of celebrated guests--the acknowledgments--for the informal dinner --when the dinner is not at home--the daughter as hostess-- inviting a stop-gap--to break a dinner engagement--invitations for luncheons--acknowledging the luncheon invitation--the informal invitation--reception invitations--reception in honor of a special guest--invitations to garden parties-- acknowledging the garden party invitation--house or week-end parties--the "bread-and-butter" letter--invitations to the theater and opera--invitations to musicales and private theatricals--children's party invitations--invitations to a christening--a word of special caution. vi. correspondence to-day and yesterday--the letter you write--the business letter --function of the social letter--the etiquette of stationery-- letter and note paper--crests and monograms--use of the typewriter --regarding the salutation--closing the letter--addressing the envelope--letter of condolence--acknowledging a letter of condolence--etiquette of the friendly letter--the child's letter--letters to persons of title. vii. parents and children the home--appearance of the house--dress--dress for children-- children and development--know your children!--imitation--the child's speech--at the table--playmates--children's parties-- planning surprises--receiving the young guests--about the birthday party--when the young guests leave--children's entertainments away from home--children and dancing--a word to parents--amusements--let the child be natural--the young girl--the girl's manner--the chaperon--the young country miss --the girl and her mother--for the shy and self-conscious-- forget about yourself--why the shy are awkward--self-confidence versus conceit--country hospitality--importance of simplicity-- the hostess--the guest--for country folks--the endless round of hospitality--when to invite--the guests and their duties-- addressing titled people. list of illustrations on her wedding day _frontispiece_ page church decorated for a formal wedding an altar for a home wedding decorations for a wedding in a small church part i "_the power of manners is incessant--an element as unconcealable as fire. the nobility cannot in any country be disguised, and no more in a republic or a democracy than in a kingdom. there are certain manners which are learned in good society, of that force that, if a person have them, he or she must be considered, and is everywhere welcome, though without beauty, or wealth, or genius._" --_from emerson's essays_. book of etiquette chapter i introduction to etiquette what is etiquette? at a meeting of army officers during the civil war, one of them began to relate a questionable story, remarking, as if to excuse his lack of good taste, that "there were no ladies present." general grant, who was acting as chairman of the meeting, remarked, "no, but there are gentlemen"--and he refused to allow the officer to continue the story. what is a gentleman? the question is an old one. it cannot be ancestry, for often the son of most noble and honored parentage is merely a coarse compound of clay and money, offered to society as a gentleman, it cannot be dress--for surely beau brummell was not what the world loves to call a gentleman, despite his stiffly starched cravats and brightly polished boots. it cannot be money, for then many a common thief, made wealthy by his ill-gotten gains, would be entitled to the name of gentleman. no, it is something that goes deeper than ancestry or dress or wealth--something that is nobler and finer than any, or all, of these. perhaps it can be best expressed by this beautiful example of what true etiquette can mean: henry ward beecher, on a very cold day, stopped to buy a newspaper from a ragged youngster who stood shivering on a corner. "poor little fellow," he said, "aren't you cold standing here?" the boy looked up with a smile and said, "i was, sir--before you passed." the word _etiquette_ itself does not mean very much. it comes from the same origin as the word "ticket" and originally meant the rules of court ceremony printed on tickets that were given to each person presented at court. but through generations the ideal of perfected culture surged, until to-day we have a code of manners that is the pride and inspiration of refined living. laws of society etiquette, after all, is not the finished work, but merely a tool that opens the portals to a broader life, to a greater social happiness. through its influence we are brought into close companionship with the really worth-while minds of our day. by faithful constancy to its rules we gradually mold our characters until, in our outward dignity and charm, the world reads and understands our ideals. there is in every human nature the desire for social happiness--which is, frankly, in other words, the desire so to impress by one's manner that one will be welcome and respected wherever one chances to be. and it is only by adhering to the fundamental laws of good society that this social happiness can ever be attained. in observing the established etiquette of modern society it is necessary to pay particular attention to one's appearance, manner, and speech. it must be remembered that the world is a harsh judge and is perfectly willing to condemn us by outward appearances. in the street-car, in the ball-room, at the theater--every day people are reading the story of our characters and ideals. society has its own definite code of manners that must be observed before one can enter its portals. there are certain rules that must be followed before one can enter its envied circle. there are conventionalities that must be observed in requesting a lady to dance, in acknowledging an introduction, in using the knife and fork at the dinner table. there are certain prevailing modes in dressing for the theater and reception. to know and adhere to these laws is to be admitted to the highest society and enjoy the company of the most brilliant minds. etiquette is an art--the art of doing and saying the correct thing at the correct time--the art of being able to hold oneself always in hand, no matter how exacting the circumstance. and like music or painting or writing, the more you study it, the more you apply yourself to its principles, the more perfectly your own character is molded. control of the impulses the cultured man is never angry, never impatient, never demonstrative. his actions and speech are tempered with a dispassionate calmness and tranquillity that the french admiringly call _sang froid_. he knows how to control his emotions so effectively that no one can read, in his self-possessed expression, whether he is angry or pleased, discouraged or eager. perhaps the most striking and admirable thing about a man of breeding is his carefully disciplined impulses. he may at times lose control of himself, but he is never petulant, never incoherent. he may be greatly enthusiastic about some unexpected happening, but he never becomes excited, never loses control of his reasoning faculties. he never gives the appearance of being in a hurry, no matter how swift his actions may be--there is always about him the suggestion of leisure and poise. swearing is essentially vulgar. it was dr. crane, the famous essayist and philosopher, who said in one of his delightful talks, "the superior man is gentle. it is only the man with a defective vocabulary that swears. all noise is waste. the silent sun is mightier than the whirlwind. the genuine lady speaks low. the most striking characteristic of the superior ones is their quiet, their poise. they have about them a sense of the stars." strong feeling, anger, have no place in the social life. we are all uneasy at times. we all have our embarrassing moments. but the well-bred person knows how to conceal his emotions, and impulses, so well that no one but himself knows that he is uneasy or embarrassed. it is not only exceedingly unpleasant, but it is also very poor form to show by our gestures and frowns and speech that we are annoyed by some circumstance that is entirely beyond our control. impulsiveness is often the cause of serious breaches of etiquette--breaches that are, socially speaking, the ruin of many a rising young man, of many an otherwise charming young woman. the gentleman never shows by hasty word or angry glance that he is displeased with some service. the lady never shows, either in her speech or manner, that she is excited with some unexpected happening, or disappointed because something did not happen the way she planned it. it is only by studying the rules of etiquette and knowing absolutely what is right to do and say under all conditions that one acquires this splendid self-possession and composure of manner. regard for the rights of others william de witt hyde, in his book, "practical ethics," says, "politeness is proper respect for human personality. rudeness results from thinking exclusively about ourselves and caring nothing for the feelings of anybody else. the sincere desire to bring the greatest pleasure and least pain to everyone we meet will go a long way towards making our manners more polite and courteous." the man or woman who is truly cultured, truly well-bred, tries to make everyone happy and at ease. it is only the exceedingly vulgar person who finds pleasure in hurting the feelings of the people with whom he comes into contact. it makes no difference how wealthy or how poor a person is, how ignorant or educated he happens to be--as a fellow-being he is entitled to a hearty sympathy and respect. both servility and arrogance are ungentlemanly. gentleness, simplicity and a sincere regard for the rights of one's companions are the distinguishing marks of a fine character. the danger of intolerance there is no room for intolerance in the social world. to be honored, respected, one must have a certain friendliness of spirit. the _gentleman_, the _lady_ treats everyone, from the lowliest beggar to the most distinguished personage with consideration. it is only the man who is unpretentious, who is always eager to please, who is as courteous and considerate in manner to his inferiors as to his equals, that fully deserves the name of gentleman. the author recently chanced to witness an amusing incident which might be of value to repeat here. it shows forcibly how important the little things are, and how they reveal to the gaze of the world the true story of our actual worth: an elderly man, who showed quite obviously by his lordly and self-satisfied manner that he was accustomed to travel about in his own car, was on one occasion forced to ride home in the subway. it was rush hour, and thousands of tired men and women were in a hurry to get home. the man impatiently waited his turn on a long line at the ticket office, constantly grumbling and making it disagreeable for those about him. when he finally did reach the window, he offered a ten dollar bill in payment for one five-cent ticket and deliberately remained at the window counting and recounting his change while the people behind him anxiously awaited their turn. when at last he did move away, he had a half smile, half frown of smug and malicious satisfaction on his face which, interpreted to the people he had kept waiting, said that he now felt repaid for having had to travel in the same train with them. this man, in spite of his self-satisfied manner and well-tailored suit, was very far from being a gentleman. the shabby young man behind him, who also offered a bill in payment for his ticket, but stepped quickly to one side to count his change, and smiled cheerfully at the man behind him, was infinitely more of a gentleman than the one who maliciously, and with evident keen enjoyment, kept the long line waiting. the true worth of a gentleman is revealed, not in his fashionable clothes or haughty demeanor, but in his regard for the rights of others. it is the little kindnesses that count--and the instinctive recognition of the rights of others. as england's inimitable j. m. barrie has so aptly remarked, "those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves." why it pays to be agreeable why should we know the laws of etiquette? why should we know the way to do and say things? why should we be agreeable? these are questions that will undoubtedly arise in the mind of the young man or woman who is eager to cultivate and refine his or her manner and speech. the answer is: to make one's own life happier--to bring into it a new sunshine, a new joy of living that was not even dreamed of when the mind and spirit were shrouded in the gloom of discourtesy, coarseness and vulgarity. for how can the boor be happy? with his gloomy face, sour disposition, complaining habits and inherent lack of good taste and culture, he sees only the shadows of life. people are repulsed by him, never attracted. brilliant men and women, people of refinement and taste, will have nothing to do with him. he lives his own life--his ill-bred, complaining, gloomy, companionless life--an outcast from that better society of which we all long to be a part. culture and cheer go hand-in-hand. the cultured man or woman is always cheerful, always finding something good and beautiful in all mankind and nature. cheerfulness itself means poise--a wholesome, happy, undaunted poise that makes life well-balanced and worth the living. the person of low, vulgar tastes and desires is seldom contented, seldom happy. he finds everywhere evil, ugliness, selfishness, and a tendency for the world generally to degrade itself to the lower levels of coarseness. he finds it because he looks for it. and he looks for it because it already exists in his mind. and yet, he may be educated; he may be a recognized power in the financial world; he may even possess enviable talents. but if he lacks that glorious open-hearted generosity, that sincere sympathy and simple understanding with all mankind, that helpful, healthful, ever-inspiring agreeableness of mind and spirit--the world will have none of him. the man who feels constantly grieved and injured at some injustice, real or imaginary, is sacrificing some of the best things life has to offer. he does not know what it means to be greeted with a smile of pleasure and a warm handclasp. he does not know what it means to be taken whole-heartedly into one's confidence, to be relied upon, to be appealed to. he does not know what it means, in his hours of darkest adversity, to receive the genuine sympathy and encouragement of a friend. but with culture, with development of mind and spirit, with the desire to adhere truly to society's laws and regard as inviolable the rights of others, there comes a new understanding of human relationship. where once everything seemed narrow and selfish, one now sees love and beauty and helpfulness. instead of harsh words and unkind glances, there are words of cheer and encouragement, smiles of friendliness and understanding. the world that once seemed coarse, shallow and unpolished, seems now strangely cordial and polite. the simplest culture yes, it pays to be agreeable. we are all like huge magnets, and we tend to attract those things which we ourselves send out. if we are coarse and unrefined, we attract to our company those people who are also coarse and unrefined. if we are disagreeable and unmindful of the rights of others, they in turn will be disagreeable to us, and unmindful of our rights. and similarly, if we are kind and agreeable, we are bound to meet and attract people of the same kind. there is a pretty little story of a woman and a child, in which the simple friendliness of a little girl opened the door for a woman whose life had been embittered by much hardship and disappointment. she was strolling one day through a mountain farm-house. she did not know where she was going, and she did not care. she just wanted to forget, forget. she stopped near a well and gazed angrily about her, wondering how there could be so much peace and quiet in a world that held nothing but turmoil and heartache for her. she was an attractive woman, and her smart clothes and haughty bearing were a disappointing contrast to her scowling face and angry eyes. suddenly she glanced down. a tiny girl was watching her intently--a little girl who had lived all her seven short years in the untutored expanse of the mountains. the woman was annoyed, and she did not hesitate to show it. "what are you looking at; what do you want?" she demanded irritably. instead of returning the frown, the child smiled and stepped a little closer. "i was just thinking how pretty your face would be if it smiled instead of frowned," she answered. the woman's face relaxed. the bitter look in the eyes vanished and was replaced by a bright new light. the scowl became a grateful smile, and with an impulsive sob of pure joy, she knelt down and hugged the little girl who had been the first in a long time to speak gently to her, the first in a long time to return her frowns with sincere smiles of friendliness. and when she finally left the little child, and returned to the exacting conventionalities of the town, she was a nobler, better and finer woman. the simple heart of a child who knew no other creed or law than the sincere love of all mankind triumphed over the bitterness of a woman who had known years of education and worldliness. culture is of the heart and spirit rather than of the outward appearance. but it is by what we do and say that we prove that it truly exists within us. chapter ii etiquette's reward the origin of manners why do we observe certain set rules of convention? why do we greet people in a certain ordained way--by nodding or by lifting the hat? why do we make introductions and send invitations and cultivate our manners and speech? to find the answer we must trace civilization back to its very source. one of the first necessities of the savage was to devise some means of showing savages of other tribes that he did not mean to fight--that he wanted to live with them peaceably. at first it was difficult to do this; primeval man was always suspicious, always watchful. he had to be, for his life depended upon it. but slowly certain peaceful observances and signs were established, and the savages began to understand them as greetings of peace and good-will. the salutation and greeting of to-day is a direct result of this early necessity. this peace-greeting, as we shall call it, was the first semblance of order, the first token of good fellowship that appeared out of the primeval chaos of warfare and destruction. a certain greeting, and things were on a peaceful basis. but let that greeting be forgotten, and the savage's life was the forfeit. man developed, and with him developed civilization. from that first "peace greeting" there came certain set salutations, certain forms of homage that bound men together in mutual protection and friendliness. then slowly, out of this first beam of manners, this first bit of restraint from the savagery of primeval man, there were created certain ceremonies. some were weird dances to the spirit of the sun; others were animal or human sacrifices to some god of fear; still others were strange ceremonies for the departed spirit of the dead. but they were ceremonies--and as such they presaged the ceremonies upon which all etiquette, all good manners, are based to-day. we find that the history of manners keeps pace with the history and evolution of man. and we find that manners, or ceremonies, or respect for fellowmen--or whatever you want to call it--was the first tie that bound men together. it is the foundation upon which all civilization is built. the manners of to-day certain sensible rules of etiquette have come down to us from one generation to another. to-day only those that have stood the test of time are respected and observed. they have been silently adopted by the common consent of the best circles in america and europe; and only those who follow them faithfully can hope to be successful in business and in social life. there are some people who say that etiquette, that manners, are petty shams that polish the surface with the gilt edge of hypocrisy. we all know that a few people believe this. who of us has not heard the uncultured boor boast that he is not restricted by any "sissy manners"? who of us has not heard the successful business man decline an invitation to a reception because he "had no time for such nonsense"? to a great many people manners mean nothing but nonsense; but you will find that they are almost invariably people who never win social or business distinction. the rules of etiquette as we observe them nowadays are not, as some people suppose, the dictates of fashions. they are certain forms of address, certain conduct of speech and manner, that have been brought down to us through centuries of developing culture. and we observe them to-day because they make contact in social life easier and more agreeable; they make life more beautiful and impressive. you do not have to observe the laws of good conduct if you do not wish to. certainly not. you may do just as you please, say just what you please, and wear just what you please. but of course you must not complain when you find the doors of good society closed against you, when you find that people of good manners and correct social conduct avoid you and bar you from their activities. good manners is the only key that will open the door to social success--and men and women often find that it fits the door to business success as well. good society in america everyone loves to mingle with cultured, well-bred people; with brilliant and celebrated individuals. everyone loves to attend elaborate social functions where the gay gowns of beautiful women are only less charming and impressive than their faultless manners. but it is not everyone who can be admitted to these inner portals of good society. it is a well-known truth that manners rather than wealth decide social rank. a man may be fabulously wealthy, but if he does not know how to act, how to dress and speak, he will not be respected. american society has rules of its own, and those who are not willing to learn these laws are shunned, banished. etiquette is the wall which divides the cultured from the uncultured, which keeps the ill-bred out of the circles where they would be awkward and uncomfortable, and where they would undoubtedly cause mortification to others. on the other hand, to know these rules of good conduct is to be admitted to the highest circles of society. to know that one is correct banishes at once all uncertainty, all embarrassment. and one mingles with perfectly-mannered people, calm in the assurance that one knows just what is correct, and that no matter what happens one can do or say nothing to reflect on one's breeding. the true lady and gentleman it is not enough to be wealthy. it is not enough to be widely famed. but if one is well-mannered, if one knows how to conduct oneself with poise, grace and self-confidence, one will win respect and honor no matter where one chances to be. there are very few men indeed who do not value good manners. they may ridicule them, they may despise them--but deep down in their hearts they know that good manners have a certain charm, a certain power, that wealth and fame together do not possess. they know that right in their own business spheres there are men who owe their success and position to the appearance that they make, to the manner in which they conduct themselves. and they know that there are beautiful women who are coldly repellent; while some plain women win the hearts of everyone with whom they come in contact, merely by the charm of their manners. the perfect gentleman is not the dude, the over-dressed "dandy" who disdains the workingman in his patched clothes and who sniffs contemptuously at the word "work." the true gentleman is kindly, courageous, civil. he is kind to everyone--to the tottering old man he helps across the street, and to the mischievous young rascal who throws a ball through his window. he does not know what it is to become angry, to lose control of his temper, to speak discourteously. he never shows that he is embarrassed or ill at ease. he is as calm and unconcerned in the presence of a world-wide celebrity as he is when he is with his most intimate friend. nor is he ever bitter, haughty or arrogant. and he is as far from being effeminate as he is from being coarse and brutal. in short, he knows the manners of good society and he does not hesitate to use them. the perfect lady is not the ornamental butterfly of society, as so many would have us believe. she is gentle, and well-dressed and graceful--not merely ornamental. she does some useful work, no matter what it is. she is patient always, and generous. she never speaks harshly to tradespeople or to servants; gentleness and reserve are the very keynotes of her manner. she is never haughty, never superior. she is kind and courteous to everyone, and she conducts herself with the calm, unassuming grace that instinctively wins a responsive respect. in her manner towards men she is reserved, modest. but she is self-reliant and not afraid to assert herself. her speech and manner are characterized always by dignity, repose and self-confidence. it is only by knowing the laws of good conduct, and by following them faithfully, that one can hope ever to become a true gentleman or true lady. the secret of social success every man who so wishes may become a gentleman, and every woman may become a lady in every sense of the word. it requires only the cultivation of those qualities outlined above. and it is here that the use of etiquette lies, that the importance of good manners is most strikingly portrayed. etiquette teaches you how to be gentle, calm, patient. it tells you how to be at ease among strangers. it tells you how to cultivate grace, poise, self-confidence. not only does it tell you how, but it _gives_ you poise and self-confidence. by teaching you the right thing to do at the right time, it eliminates all possibility of mistakes--and hence all embarrassment and awkwardness vanish. the existence of these fixed social laws, these little rules of etiquette, makes it easy for the man and woman who have not been bred in the best society, to master the knowledge which will enable them to enter that society and mingle with the most highly cultivated people without feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable. it tears down the barriers between the wealthy and the poor, between the educated and the ignorant. by knowing what to do and say and write and wear on all occasions, under all conditions, any man or woman can enter any society and mingle with any people. the old proverb might well be changed to read, "culture makes the whole world kin!" of course if a man suddenly became wealthy and he wished to enter the highest society, his wealth might serve as an opening. but he would soon find that money was not enough--that he needed manners. he might mingle with society for years, slowly acquiring the correct table manners, the correct mode of address, the correct manner of making introductions, the correct way to conduct himself at all times, in all places. but it would take many years before the rough edges of his previous uncultivated manners were rubbed away. instead of waiting for years of contact with cultured people to bring him the correct manners befitting a man of wealth, he need only learn at once from a dependable authority the etiquette of society, the good form that has been crystallized into rules after years of social intercourse. it is the easiest road to social success. what manners will do for you every day you come into contact with people, with strangers, who judge you by what you do and say. they go away carrying an impression of you--and it depends upon your manners whether it is a good impression or a bad impression. it is a mistake to think that good manners are meant for the elaborate ball room or for the formal dinner. society is not necessarily too formal or too "showy." society implies also that society of fellow-men you meet every day of the year--people you come into contact with in the social and business worlds. and in order to make contact with these people agreeable and pleasant, in order to win the admiration and respect of strangers, in order to avoid embarrassment and humiliation because of bad blunders at most conspicuous moments, it is essential to know what is right and what is wrong. good manners will enable you to be easy and graceful at all times. you will be able to mingle with the most cultured people and be perfectly at ease. you will lose all self-consciousness, all timidity. and instead you will become dignified, well-poised, calm. instinctively people will respect you; in business and in society you will find yourself welcomed and admired. etiquette's reward etiquette is like the binding of a book--just as the binding reveals the name of the book, and protects the valuable pages that are inside, so does etiquette reveal the breeding and culture of an individual, and protects him from the disrespect, ridicule and snubs of the world. etiquette will make you dignified. it will make your actions and speech refined, polished, impressive. it will make you a leader instead of a follower, a participant instead of a looker-on. it will open the doors of the highest society to you, make you immune to all embarrassment, enable you to conduct yourself with ease and confidence at all times, under all circumstances. the rewards of etiquette are too numerous to recount. if you follow the laws of good conduct, if you do only what is right and in good form, you will find yourself an acknowledged leader, an acknowledged success, no matter in what station of life you may be. the world is quick to perceive good manners, just as it is quick to perceive the blunders in etiquette. if you study the rules of good conduct, and follow good form in everything you do and say, you will become courteous and kind and well-mannered. etiquette will attract people to you, make you and your home a center of social activity. but most of all, it will make you respect yourself. and that is more important than riches or fame--for self-respect is the only thing that brings true happiness. remember the words of the prophet, "he who respects himself will earn the respect of all the world." chapter iii engagements of special importance there is perhaps no time when the rules of etiquette need to be so strictly observed as during the period of courtship. all the world loves a lover--but this does not keep the world from watching closely and criticizing severely any breach of good manners, especially on the part of the young lady. any public display of affection anywhere at any time is grossly unrefined. love is sacred, and it should not be thrown open to the rude comments of strangers. the young couple should conduct themselves with quiet dignity and reserve, neither indulging in terms of endearment or caresses, nor purposely ignoring each other so as to create the impression that they are not, after all, so very much in love. there is no reason why their conduct in public after they are engaged should be any more demonstrative than it was before. at parties, dinners, and other entertainments it is their privilege to be with each other more than they are with anyone else, but this does not mean that they should neglect the other guests. if the occasion has been planned especially for them they are in part responsible for each one present finding it an enjoyable one. and each one should be very cordial to the friends of the other. many an engagement that held promise of golden happiness to come was abruptly broken because one or the other was not sufficiently circumspect in conduct. a young lady must remember that while she is not exactly expected to give up indiscriminately all her friends of the opposite sex, she must not receive them as guests, or go to the theater or ball with them, without the knowledge and consent of her fiancé. he is, of course, expected to be equally considerate of her with regard to his own relations with other women. the engaged couple of to-day enjoys much greater freedom than the engaged couple of our grandmothers' time. the chaperon has been almost entirely dispensed with, except in a few individual cases. although it is still considered rather poor form to attend the theater or opera together, without other friends in the party, it is often done without any very serious consequence to the young people. perhaps it is because the young men and women of this country have that instinctive grace and dignity of manner that the severe laws of conduct practiced abroad have been deemed unnecessary. the proposal at one time, not so very long ago, it was considered an irrevocable law of etiquette that a young man obtain the formal consent of a young lady's parents before asking her hand in marriage. prevalent customs have almost eliminated this formality, and modern mothers and fathers, by the welcome which they accord him in their home, show a young man whether or not they think him eligible for their daughter's hand. and it is really a much wiser plan to object to a friendship when it first begins instead of waiting until it has developed into something more serious. if the young man wishes to proceed upon the old-fashioned formula he may do so, first assuring himself insofar as he is able that his attentions are welcome to the young lady. the time for the proposal depends upon attending circumstances. someone has said that there would be fewer divorces if more proposals were made in the middle of the day under ordinary conditions, but the timid or romantic youth usually prefers the witchery of moonlight and the magic of solitude. the proposal itself should be sincere and earnest. glowing terms and impassioned emotion are, indeed, very bad taste; and often the more simple a proposal is the more forcibly it expresses the suitor's ardor. if he is accepted the well-bred young man will immediately seek the young lady's parents and impart the happy news to them. at this point, if it has not already been disclosed it is customary for him to reveal his true status, financially and socially, and answer politely any questions that her parents may ask him. if there are dissensions he must explain calmly and carefully, making sure all the time to keep complete control of his feelings and not to allow himself to become either angry or impatient. the engagement ring it is the custom to seal the engagement pact with a ring. as soon as the prospective bridegroom has won the consent of the young lady whom he wishes to be his wife, he places the engagement ring on the third finger of her left hand. the convention is that the ring be a diamond solitaire set in gold or platinum, or, if it is preferred, a diamond set with other stones. it is always wise to consult the individual preference of the young lady in determining the choice of the ring, and it is her privilege to choose whatever kind she wants regardless of tradition or convention. announcing the engagement after the proposal has been accepted announcement of the fact is made, and it is here that the young lady takes the leading part. there are several established conventions in announcing the engagement. each one is good form, and the choice is merely a matter of taste and convenience. but always the initiative must come from the family of the future bride. the young man must not even announce the engagement to his best friends until he is quite sure that his fiancé has already made it known to her friends. it has always been a popular custom in better society to give the announcement of an engagement as nearly an appearance of "leaking out" as possible. perhaps it is because it adds to the interest of the occasion. to obtain this effect, a number of intimate friends and relatives are invited to a dinner party--really the engagement dinner--where, in the course of the conversation, the news of the engagement is casually imparted to the guests for the first time. it is usually announced by the father of the young lady; sometimes by her older brother, and in some cases by her mother. the guests, of course, will offer warm and sincere congratulations. the happy couple mingle among their guests and receive their good wishes with modesty and smiles of thanks. sometimes the young lady gives a luncheon for her friends, at which the announcement is made. it is always very pretty to make the announcement in some novel way, and if the hostess does not find her own ingenuity equal to it she will find her stationer her best guide. he has various novelty cards, etc., specially designed for such occasions. often, instead of formally announcing the engagement, the young lady gives the news to several of her closest friends, depending on them to spread it among their friends and acquaintances. this manner of announcement is usually followed with a little informal reception, to which are invited the members of the prospective bridegroom's family and the relatives of both families. the most usual method perhaps the best way to announce an engagement is for the young lady and her mother to send small engraved cards to their circle of friends and relatives, making the announcement in a simple statement, and mentioning an afternoon when they will be "at home" to visitors. the young man may also send notes or cards to his friends, having first made sure that his fiancé has already announced it to her friends. the "at home" offers a splendid opportunity for each one to meet the friends of the other, and for the families of the two young people to become better acquainted. care must be taken that there is no constraint, no drifting into "circles." the young lady must welcome her future husband's friends with sincere cordiality, and see that they are properly introduced to her own friends. he must mingle with her friends and make himself companionable and agreeable. to be constantly together, selfishly enjoying each other's company while the neglected guests are left to their own devices is a breach of etiquette and must be conscientiously avoided if the "at home" is to be hailed a success. if this last method of announcing the engagement is decided upon, the home should boast no decorations except flowers simply arranged. the young lady and her mother, in conservative afternoon frocks, receive together. the young man is usually presented to the guests by his future father-in-law. entertainment, such as music and dancing, may be provided for the occasion if it is convenient. simple refreshments may be served--dainty sandwiches, cake, tea and sweets are appropriate when served in an attractive manner. it is also customary to place an announcement in the society columns of the newspapers simultaneously with the giving of the dinner party. it should always be written by the parents about their daughter, or by the guardian if she has no parents--never by the engaged girl herself. announcing an engagement in the newspapers the vogue to-day seems to favor announcing engagements in the newspaper rather than through the issuing of announcement cards. such items of announcement should be sent to the society editor of the paper selected, and should be signed with the full name and address of the sender. brief items are always better than long ones. here are two typical newspaper announcements of recent engagements: _"mr. and mrs. henry m. bower announce the engagement of their daughter rose to mr. walter barrie of boston. the date of the wedding will be announced in this paper later."_ _"the engagement of miss lillian hall to mr. robert g. manning is announced by mr. and mrs. john b. hall. the wedding is to take place in st. thomas's church on the th of june."_ engagement gifts it is not customary for elaborate engagement gifts to be presented, even by near relatives. in fact, the mode of the engagement gift has been gradually disappearing until to-day congratulations are considered sufficient. however, the close friends of the young lady may send her, with their congratulations, pleasing bits of chinaware, glassware, and sometimes even silver. odd pieces of bric-à-brac and quaint, unusual gifts, and antiques are always acceptable. markings on gifts are usually in the maiden name of the bride--but if any doubt is felt as to which she herself would prefer, it is best to ask her. there is an old tradition regarding the giving of tea-cups as an engagement present. a lover, who was obliged to go away on an extended sea journey, gave to his betrothed a delicate china cup, asking her to drink tea from it every afternoon. he said, "if i am unfaithful, the cup will fill to overbrimming and the tea pouring over the sides will crack the thin china. then you will know i have broken faith." the custom has been brought down to us, and now we find that the giving of a tea-cup or a tea-set as an engagement present signifies faithfulness--and it may mean faithfulness to friendship or love as the case may be. we usually find that a young lady's spinster friends are partial to the custom; they seem to find particular enjoyment in presenting her with dainty tea-cups, either separately or in sets. expensive gifts should never be exchanged during an engagement, barring of course the engagement ring. the young man may present his prospective bride with books, flowers or candy, but articles of wearing apparel are considered bad taste. to be modest, gracious, dignified during the engagement, to continue one's social duties faithfully, neither neglecting one's friends nor becoming self-consciously enthusiastic, to be self-possessed and unaffected even while one is the center of much lively interest and animated discussion--this is the end to be desired, and the young man and woman who have accomplished it are indeed fortunate. bridal showers a good many years ago a friend of a young woman who was about to be married decided that the only gift she could afford was too slight an offering to express the love and good wishes that she felt. knowing that there were other friends who felt the same way she called them together and suggested that they present their gifts at the same time. then and there the idea of the "shower" was born. the custom has prevailed and in most instances to-day the shower has a special purpose, such as the linen shower or the kitchen shower or the book shower. it is a very charming way of presenting gifts that would seem too trifling if they were presented alone. intimate friends of the bride are the guests at a shower. it is usually a very informal affair and nearly always a surprise to the bride. the gifts may be hidden in a jack horner pie, they may be wrapped in all sorts of odd packages, or they may be presented in any of a hundred and one attractive ways. originality in this, as in all entertainments, is greatly to be desired. the young lady who is honored with a shower thanks the guests verbally, and afterwards she may write each of them a little note expressing her gratitude. it is necessary to do so if the affair was an elaborate one and the gifts were expensive. length of the engagement the question of how long an engagement should last is usually governed by attendant conditions. there is, however, a marked tendency for engagements to be short; in fact, fashion now demands that the wedding-day be at least tentatively fixed before the engagement is announced. many times there are excellent reasons why it should be of several years' duration. it is best not to announce the fact formally, though it may be understood among one's friends. matters of this kind are to be determined by the two people who are most concerned, and if a young man and his fiancé have decided that they would like to have a long engagement the rules of etiquette have nothing to say against it. responsibility for the wedding the father and mother of the young lady who is about to be married assume all responsibility for the preparation for and the celebration of the wedding. the groom is not expected to pay for anything except the ring and flowers for the bride and, if he wishes, the flowers for the bridesmaids and trifling gifts for the ushers and other attendants. the clergyman's fee also devolves upon him, but all other expenses are paid by the bride's parents or guardians. indeed, it would indicate a great lack of tact or delicacy on the part of the groom to offer to provide a part of the trousseau or to pay for any of the other expenses incidental to the occasion. announcement cards, invitations, music, flowers and other decorations for the church, the preparations for the breakfast or reception to follow the ceremony--all of these are paid for by her parents. the wedding should never be more elaborate than the parents of the bride can afford. families and friends it is always very delightful when the families of an engaged couple find themselves congenial, and every effort should be made by the young people to bring about, if it does not already exist, a harmonious relationship between their immediate families. it is almost equally desirable that each shall like the friends of the other and heroic efforts must be made to do so. a pleasing way to bring friends together is by means of an informal reception. the invitations should be cordial notes written by hand. the following indicates the usual form: _bayside, april , --_ _dear may:_ _no doubt you already know that i am engaged to be married to ralph curran. thursday afternoon from three to five mother is giving a little reception for his friends and mine, and we both hope that you will be able to attend._ _cordially yours,_ _helen hall._ for the members of the immediate families or for very close friends a dinner is suggested but the most important point for the family which is doing the entertaining to keep in mind is the style of living to which the other has been accustomed, and nothing should be done which might embarrass them. if the family has been accustomed to great elegance the one that is acting as host need have no fear for people who are worth knowing appreciate simplicity wherever they find it; but if they are in very moderate circumstances it is the cruellest kind of discourtesy to attempt to overawe them with ceremonious hospitality. it is ordinarily the family of the groom that is first to approach the other with an invitation of some kind, but extenuating circumstances make the convention vary. often a young girl is invited to visit in the home of her fiancé before her marriage. it is an invitation which she may accept with perfect propriety. chapter iv wedding invitations and announcements the wedding invitation not later than fifteen days, and not earlier than four weeks before the date set for the marriage, wedding invitations are sent to those friends, relatives and acquaintances who are to be present at the ceremony. when the wedding is to be a large church affair, invitations are sent to all those whose names appear on the visiting lists of the two families. they are also issued to relatives and friends of the bride and groom who may be traveling abroad, to the important business associates of the groom, and those of the bride's father. intimate friends and relatives in mourning are also invited, whether they are expected to attend or not. for a home wedding, more discrimination is shown in the issuing of invitations. intimate friends and relatives of both families are invited, but no casual acquaintances. in sending out the invitations, the bride-to-be and her mother should take into consideration the number of people who will fit comfortably into the reception or drawing room. size and material formal wedding invitations should always be engraved. they are issued in the name of the bride's parents, or, if she is an orphan, in the names of a married brother and his wife, of her guardian or her nearest male relative. pure white or cream-tinted paper, unglazed but smooth in surface, should be used for wedding invitations. a conventional size, although each year sees another size in wedding invitations, is seven inches in length by six inches in width. these dimensions vary, but never more than an inch or so. they fold once into the envelope. plain script is favored for the engraving of the wedding cards; old english script, roman capitals and block lettering are all effective. a good stationer will show you the types of lettering most suited to wedding invitations at the present time. it is his business to be able to advise you. if there is a family crest (the bride's family) it may be embossed in white in the center at the top of the engraved sheet, but not on the flap of the envelope. a recent fashion is to have the bride's initials embossed in white where the crest would appear. both are effective; but such decorations as gilt-edges, entwined letters of coats-of-arms in colors are in bad taste. very fine paper should be selected for the wedding invitation. no tint except cream may be used; pure-white is considered the very best form. the paper should be of medium weight, unglazed, and smooth. light-weight paper through which lettering can be easily seen should not be used. nor should the paper be so thick and heavy that it breaks when folded. kinds of envelopes the wedding invitation demands two envelopes. the first, matching in texture and quality the paper of the invitation, is used as a protection for the card. it remains unsealed. the second envelope is a trifle larger, though it must also be of a similar texture. into this envelope the card and the inner envelope are slipped for mailing. the large envelope is sealed and stamped. it bears the complete name and address of the person for whom it is intended, while the inner envelope bears only the name. the church cards are enclosed with the wedding invitation if there is necessity for them. and if there is to be a wedding reception to which this particular guest is invited, a special card is also enclosed. the "at home" cards of the bridal couple are sent separately after the wedding. addressing the envelopes the wedding invitation is addressed to mr. and mrs. blank. the expression "and family" following the name of a husband and wife is not used in polite society. if there are unmarried daughters to be invited, a separate invitation is addressed to "the misses blank." sons may be invited either by sending a separate invitation to each one, or addressing one invitation to "the messrs. blank." all these invitations, in their proper envelopes, addressed appropriately, are placed in the large envelope for mailing. this single envelope is addressed in full to the matron of the family, "mrs. henry mason blank." invitation to church wedding the invitation to a church wedding is worded with a bit more formality than the invitation to the home ceremony. it is sent out two or three weeks before the day set for the wedding. the church wedding invitation requires no written acknowledgment, except in those rare cases when there is a request for it. instead of the initials, r.s.v.p., it is better form to say simply, "please reply." invitations for the home wedding, of course, require prompt acknowledgment. following are two forms of church wedding invitations which may be used: _mr. and mrs. john grey taylor request the honor of ............................. presence at the marriage of their daughter helen marie with mr. raymond mitchell on thursday, the ninth of may at four o'clock st. thomas's church new york_ _mr. and mrs. john grey taylor request the honor of your presence at the marriage of their daughter helen marie and mr. raymond mitchell on friday, the fourth of june at six o'clock at the presbyterian church boston_ in the first invitation, the name of the guest is written by hand in the space left for that purpose. the use of "marriage and" and "marriage with" is now customary in preference to "marriage to." all three words are in good form, however, and any one of them may be used. below is a model engraved admission card, used when the church wedding is to be a large one and tickets of admission are necessary. the correct size is denoted: _please present this card at st. michael's church on monday, the fifth of may_ invitations to home wedding for the home wedding, invitations are engraved as for the church wedding, but for the phrase "request the honor of your presence" the phrase "request the pleasure of your company" is substituted, though "honor" may be used in place of "pleasure" if one prefers. as in the case of the church wedding, a space may be left for the name of the guest to be filled in, or the form that follows may be used: _mr. and mrs. robert guy brown request the pleasure of your company at the marriage of their daughter helen rose and mr. henry van buren on tuesday afternoon, june the first at four o'clock twenty-two west end avenue_ when the wedding takes place in the country, or a guest at a great distance is invited, a small card like the one following is generally included: _train leaves grand central station for glenville at : a.m._ _returning train leaves glenville for new york at : p.m._ wealthy people often place a special train at the disposal of special city friends whose presence is eagerly desired at the wedding. a card, like the one following, is enclosed with the invitation, and it serves as a pass, entitling the bearer to a seat in the reserved train. here is the form most generally used: _the special train leaves grand central station for glenville at : a.m. leaves glenville for grand central station at : p.m. please present this card at station door_ wedding in a friend's home sometimes, either because of convenience or personal preference, arrangements are made to have a wedding take place at the home of a friend or relative. the following wording is suggested as the correct form for the invitation: _the pleasure of your company is requested at the marriage of miss marian benson joyce to mr. john h. brown on monday, the fifth of june at twelve o'clock at the residence of mr. and mrs. herbert smith hopkins eighteen johns street_ when cards are enclosed when a church wedding is followed by a reception or breakfast, special engraved cards are enclosed with the invitations to those guests whose presence is desired. it may be a very small card, inscribed merely with these words: _reception from four o'clock forty-six lafayette street_ for the wedding breakfast a card of this kind is usually enclosed: _mr. and mrs. john hay request the pleasure of ..................... company, at breakfast on thursday, the fifth of may at twelve o'clock_ invitations to second marriages the second wedding invitation of a widow should be issued in the name of her parents or nearest living relatives. she uses her own first name with the surname of the deceased husband. here is the correct form: _mr. and mrs. robbert manning request the honor of your presence at their marriage of their daughter mrs. may ellis bruce to mr. stanley kenworth on monday, september the fifth at six o'clock st. paul chapel_ it may be that the woman who is to be married for the second time has no near relatives to serve as hosts for her. her invitations may be like this: _the honor of your presence is requested at the marriage of mrs. helen roy chadwick and mr. bruce kenneth on wednesday, august the tenth at four o'clock church of the redeemer_ announcement cards are sent after a wedding if there were no invitations issued. they are often sent instead of invitations to friends who live at too great a distance to be present at the ceremony. they require no acknowledgment though it is customary to send either a note expressing good wishes or a gift of some kind. if one lives in the same community one should call on the bride's mother, and if the bride's card in inclosed, on the bride herself shortly after she returns from the honeymoon. this is the usual form for the announcement card: _mr. and mrs. roger smith announce the marriage of their daughter rose madeline to mr. frank breckenridge on thursday, april the first one thousand nine hundred and twenty-one_ in case of a second marriage of the bride, the announcement card reads in this manner: _mr. robert g. gainsworth and mrs. herbert gaylord smith announce their marriage on thursday, august the eleventh one thousand nine hundred and twenty-one_ the bride uses the announcement above only when she is a widow. a divorcée uses her own first and second names, with the surname of the divorced husband. the announcement card is engraved on sheets of white paper similar in size and texture to those used for the invitation. it is posted on the day of the wedding. the forms given above may be modified by adding the name of the church in which the ceremony was held, or the home address of the bride if it was a home wedding. with the wedding invitation or the announcement card the "at home" card of the bride may be included, giving the date of her return from the honeymoon and her future address. thus: _mr. and mrs. k. n. littleton at home in forest hills after the eighteenth of august_ invitation to wedding anniversary unlike the wedding invitation, that of the anniversary may display some delicate, unostentatious design significant of the occasion. it is engraved on sheets or cards which may display the entwined initials of husband and wife, and the year of the marriage and wedding anniversary. for a silver wedding, the engraving may be done in silver, and gold lettering is permissible for the fifty-year anniversary. the two most approved forms for the anniversary invitations are given below: _ mr. and mrs. henry guy ascher at home wednesday evening, may third after eight o'clock thirty-two pine street_ _ mr. and mrs. henry guy ascher request the pleasure of your company on the fiftieth anniversary of their marriage on thursday, june the third at eight o'clock thirty-two pine street_ informal wedding invitation when a recent death in the family, or when personal preference results in a so-called "quiet" wedding, when only the immediate family and very close friends are invited, a short note written either by the bride-to-be or her mother, is the only invitation. following is a note of this kind from the bride-elect to her friend--and immediately below it the correct form of acknowledgment: _dear janet:_ _two weeks from monday, on the ninth of september, mr. brill and i are to be married. we are asking only a few of our most intimate friends to be present, and would be very glad to have you among them. the ceremony will take place at four o'clock._ _with kindest regards, i am_ _sincerely yours,_ _harriet b. howe._ _dear harriet:_ _i shall be delighted to attend your wedding on september ninth, at four o'clock._ _with cordial good wishes to you and mr. brill, i am_ _sincerely yours,_ _janet b. robbins._ acknowledging the formal wedding invitation when a breakfast or reception card is included, a response must be made promptly. the form of the invitation should be followed as nearly as possible. it is written on the first page of a sheet of social note paper, and addressed to the parents or guardians of the bride. here is the form used for acceptance: _mr. and mrs. john mortimer accept with pleasure mr. and mrs. henry b. fletcher's kind invitation to be present at the marriage of their daughter helen marie to mr. thomas wolcott on tuesday, the seventh of may at twelve o'clock and afterward at the wedding breakfast_ regrets are usually worded in this manner, following closely the invitation. the reason for non-attendance may or may not be given: _mr. and mrs. john mortimer exceedingly regret that they are unable to accept mr. and mrs. fletcher's kind invitation to be present at the marriage of their daughter helen marie to mr. thomas wolcott on tuesday, the seventh of may at twelve o'clock and afterward at the wedding breakfast_ in the fourth line of the first acknowledgment above the two last words "at the" may be prefixed to the fifth line; the same holds true of the fifth line of the second acknowledgment. a good stationer will be able to give you the exact prevalent vogue in this matter. whom to invite it is necessary for the young man and woman who are about to be married to make out their list of those to whom invitations are to be sent together. if the wedding is to be a large affair, not only their friends but the friends of their parents as well, and business acquaintances of both families should be invited. relatives and friends in mourning should be invited but no resentment should be felt if they do not attend. if the wedding is a small one great care should be taken lest the guests are so numerous as to overcrowd the church or home. especially is this true of the home where the space is usually more circumscribed. sending the invitations all invitations should come from the home of the bride, even those that are for the personal friends of her husband even if they are unknown to the bride. they should be mailed from one month to two weeks or ten days before the day set for the wedding. if the bride is an orphan they are sent in the name of her nearest relative. if there is an older brother they may be issued in his name, but never in the name of a sister unless she is a great deal older than the bride or is herself a married woman. if the bride has lost one parent and the other has remarried she may use her own judgment as to whether to send the invitation in the name of her parent or in the names of them both. the latter is usually preferred, as a matter of consideration toward the step-parent. recalling the wedding invitation a sudden death in the family, illness, accident, or other serious happening, warrants the recall of wedding invitations. the parents of the bride should immediately notify guests of the postponement of the wedding, by issuing printed cards. a good size for these cards is three and a quarter inches in length by one and one-quarter inches in width. the text is usually worded in this manner: _owing to the sudden death of mr. henry robert's father, mr. and mrs. james curtis are compelled to recall the invitations for their daughter's wedding on thursday, february the fourth._ or _mr. and mrs. james curtis beg to recall the invitations issued for the marriage of their daughter, grace helen, and mr. henry roberts, on thursday, february the fourth._ breaking an engagement a broken engagement is always embarrassing for both the young man and the young lady. friends, if they are truly well-bred, will not ask questions, and relatives will not demand explanations. the obligations which such a situation entails are unpleasant, but it is infinitely better to go through the ordeal than to face a marriage which is certain to end in disaster. at such a time it is important for the young lady to have the utmost dignity and self-possession. she is not expected to make any announcement or offer any explanations. if a reception has been scheduled, her mother sends brief notes or engraved cards to those who have been invited, informing them that the engagement has been broken. the young lady, if she wishes, may confide in her intimate friends; but to be bitter, to condemn her former suitor in any way, to suggest that perhaps he was not all that she thought he was at first, not only reflects on her own good judgment, but is very poor form and shows lack of delicacy. if the announcement of the engagement has been made in the papers such a notice as this might be inserted in the name of the person or persons who first made the announcement: _mr. and mrs. c. d. simmons announce that by mutual consent the engagement between their daughter agnes and george francis richards is at an end._ if invitations have been sent out a similar announcement may be dispatched to each intended guest. these should be engraved on white cards of the size recommended by the stationer. if the engagement was announced only to intimate friends the bride should send each of them a note stating that the engagement is at an end. it is much better _never_ to give an explanation. such occasions as this must have given rise to the proverb, "least said, soonest mended." even to the bride's dearest friend the following note is sufficient: _bellevue, june , --_ _dear ruth:_ _since i wrote you last week something has happened which has made george and me reconsider our engagement. you will therefore please disregard the invitation for thursday afternoon._ _ever sincerely yours,_ _margaret franklin._ returning gifts when an engagement is broken off the young people return all expensive gifts and all letters that have passed between them. the young lady always, of course, returns the engagement ring. if wedding presents have been received from friends these also must be returned with a brief note explaining that the wedding is not to take place. it is necessary to thank the donor as warmly as if nothing had happened. it takes a great deal of courage to face the situation bravely and to go through it without a sacrifice of dignity. one thing must be remembered: _don't be afraid of what people will say._ it is not their happiness which is at stake. when death intervenes often a death in the family occurs when preparations are under way for a wedding. if the death is that of a parent or very dear relative the wedding should be postponed, if circumstances permit, as a mark of respect and sincere sorrow for the deceased. but if the wedding must take place as scheduled, or even two or three months after the death, good taste and delicacy demand that it shall be quiet and simple, with only a few near relatives and friends present. if the ceremony is performed in church there should be no garlands of gay flowers to strike a festive note. a bit of fern or other green foliage here and there is sufficient decoration. the bride may have one bridesmaid and a maid of honor--but an elaborate bridal train is considered poor taste within six months of a dearly beloved one's death. the ceremony itself is dispatched with expedience and rapidity, yet without any semblance whatever of haste. whether it is held in church or at home, the wedding during the period of mourning is characterized by a solemn simplicity that has none of the triumphant joyousness of the elaborate wedding. and still the occasion sacrifices none of its happiness, for sorrow brings to human nature the same mellow sweetness that the flight of time brings to untasted wine. to pay fitting reverence to the dead, weddings and receptions of all kinds should be postponed. but if circumstances decree that they shall take place, then the occasion may be marked by so quiet and unpretentious a ceremony that the respect due the deceased is in no way violated. chapter v weddings the church wedding the bride and groom decide between them the church where they wish the wedding to take place and the clergyman whom they wish to officiate. when there is no religious difference between the couple the matter is a very simple one and the church which the bride's family regularly attends is the one chosen, but when he is of one faith and she of another it may assume serious proportions. if neither is inclined to yield gracefully the laws of etiquette decree that the groom should give in, not only because chivalry demands it but also because the wedding day by right and tradition belongs primarily to the bride. the church should be decorated for the occasion but not with great elaboration. palms, ferns, and smilax, roses, lilies and other flowers are appropriate. ribbon also may be used effectively. white streamers are sometimes used to mark off the seats which are to be occupied by the relatives and intimate friends of the bride and groom, but there are many people who do not like to indicate so definitely the lines of demarcation among their guests. extravagance in any of the appointments of the wedding are in extremely bad taste. it is sometimes well to remember the delightful logic of the old lady who said that she did not dress better than she could afford to at home because everybody knew her and there was no use trying to impress them; and she did not dress better than she could afford when she went to the city because nobody knew her and it did not make any difference whether she impressed them or not. no set form of decoration can be given, but magnificent ornamentation is out of place in a simple chapel or church, and in every place profusion beyond one's means is not only ill-bred but foolish. attendants among the anglo-saxons the custom of an impressive escort for the bride had its origin. to-day it is a matter of choice, and the bride may have as many or as few as she pleases. her maid of honor is usually her sister or her best friend and her bridesmaids are chosen from among those who are dearest to her. the groom chooses the best man and the bride and groom together select the ushers. the bridesmaids although the number of bridesmaids is entirely a matter of choice, it is the fashion at an elaborate church wedding to have not less than five nor more than ten. a maid or matron of honor, two little pages or flower girls, and, if it is desired, a third child to bear the cushion to the altar, completes the bridal train. the bevy of bridesmaids consists of the bride's dearest friends. if she has sisters, one of them, as well as one of the bridegroom's sisters, must be included in her escort. for maid or matron of honor, the bride selects a sister or intimate friend. it is sometimes customary for the bride to provide the dresses of her bridesmaids. this, however, is dependent upon circumstances and conditions, and is not really essential. it is important, though, that the bride visit each bridesmaid personally and request her services at the wedding, unless she lives at some distance. the bride, if the wedding is to be an elaborate one, may suggest to the bridesmaids the kind of gowns she would like them to wear. the young ladies may be trusted to follow her wishes implicitly. no one would willingly mar a friend's wedding by appearing in a gown that does not agree with the general plan. the gowns need not be identical; but the colors must be the same, or at least harmonize. light shades are always the fashion for bridesmaids. white, of course, for the bride. the bridesmaids should be invited many weeks before the wedding so that they will have ample time for preparation. nearly always the dress has to be made, and this takes time. it is customary for the bridesmaids to be dressed alike or very nearly alike. the custom had its origin in primitive times when evil spirits were supposed to attend wedding ceremonies and the bride and groom were surrounded by friends of their own age and sex dressed similarly so that the spirits could not single out the happy couple for their evil designs. it is a far cry from that time to this, and the only reason why the bridesmaids are dressed similarly now is because the effect is so much prettier than could be attained by a miscellaneous array of gowns, however beautiful each one in itself might be. they carry flowers, either cut flowers or bouquets, but their bouquets are never so elaborate as that carried by the bride. usually they wear a bit of jewelry which was presented by the groom. this, too, is a curious survival of primitive marriage customs when the groom had to capture the bride, and because she was fleet-footed and wild (or perhaps because he was lazy), bribed her friends to lure her to the place where he was waiting. rehearsals elaborate weddings should always be rehearsed at least once beforehand. in arranging these rehearsals the bride must have in mind the convenience of her attendants, and by consulting them, should settle upon a time that will be agreeable for the majority. the requests for one's presence at a rehearsal may be made verbally or by notes. refreshments are usually served afterward at the home of the bride. she must arrange for the opening of the church, and she should provide a way for the young ladies who are at some distance to get there. the details of the ceremony should be practiced until the whole thing can be accomplished with ease and grace. every possible effort must be made to eliminate a stilted and wooden effect on the actual day of the wedding. regarding the ushers at the rehearsal they should receive careful instructions (usually from the clergyman), as a large part of the smoothness and charm of the wedding ceremony depends upon their knowledge of the right thing to do at the right time. on the day of the wedding, they must be at the church at least an hour before the scheduled time for the ceremony. it is part of their duty to welcome the guests and escort them to their seats. an old custom was for the usher to offer his right arm to a lady, and although it still prevails, a more accepted form is for him to welcome each guest with a smile, precede her down the aisle, and with a graceful indication, direct her to her place. front seats should always be reserved for the relatives and most intimate friends of both families. at most fashionable weddings, the names of the people to receive these front seats are tabulated on cards and given to the ushers. another custom that is permissible is to mark off the number of seats in front that are to be reserved with a white ribbon, extending from aisle to aisle and terminating at the end seats with pretty bows or festoons. this manner of reserving seats for the "guests of honor" is not only effective, but is also decorative. the wedding day june and october, because the weather is usually beautiful and flowers are more abundant than at other times, are the favorite months for brides, though there is not a single month out of the twelve that does not see its full quota of elaborate weddings. during lent there are fewer than at any other time. there is an old superstition which says that friday is an unlucky day for a wedding, but the prejudice that rose from it has so largely been done away with that the only choice among the days of the week is that which rises from the bride's personal convenience and desire. a wedding may take place at any hour of the day. morning weddings are usually very simple. elaborate ceremonies are usually performed at high noon or in the evening while the wedding that is neither very simple nor very elaborate (and this means most weddings) takes place in the afternoon. in a great many instances the hour has to be arranged with reference to the time the train on which the bride and groom expect to leave departs. arriving at the church the wedding party should arrive promptly at the church a few minutes before the time mentioned for the ceremony. few moments are more tensely anxious than those in which a belated member of the wedding party is awaited by the others. for this reason, it is always better to assemble at the home of the bride rather than in the vestibule of the church or elsewhere. except the groom and best man, who await the others in the vestry and the ushers who have gone on ahead an hour or so earlier. the bride's mother, the maid of honor and guests leave the home of the bride first. they are followed by the bridesmaids. the last to leave are the bride and her father. the bride's mother is escorted to her place (the aisle seat of the front pew on the left side) by the head usher. those of her children who have no part in the procession accompany her. the family of the bridegroom are similarly conducted to their reserved place, the front pew on the right side. as soon as the bridesmaids and the bridal party arrive at the door of the church, the bridegroom is informed, and the entire cortége assembles in the vestibule. the organist has previously been informed as to what musical selections are to be played, and as soon as he gets his cue, he strikes a chord--and while the mellow notes of the organ peal forth (usually the beautiful tones of the wedding-march from "lohengrin") the doors at the foot of the aisle slowly swing open. wedding music the bride usually enters on lohengrin and goes out on mendelssohn. throughout the ceremony, except when prayers are being said, there should be soft music and the organ should continue to play until all the guests have left the church, unless chimes are rung. in the event that there are chimes they should begin to ring as soon as the bridal party has left the church. the music for a church service may be very stately and impressive. besides the organ stringed instruments may be employed and soloists or a choir may be asked to sing. music is especially pleasing during the time when the guests are waiting for the wedding party to assemble. the musical program in the home is not very different. a piano and one or two stringed instruments furnish the instrumental music while friends of the bride and groom may be requested to sing. these should be rewarded by a gift from the groom. there is a wider choice in the kind of music which may be used at the home wedding, for the beautiful secular love songs which are out of place at the church are most appropriate here. the wedding procession the order of the wedding procession depends largely upon the number of attendants. the following arrangement is frequently observed: the ushers enter first, walking slowly down the aisle two by two. the bridesmaids follow in the same manner, the maid of honor, who is unattended, comes next, followed by the bride, who leans on the arm of her father. flower girls may precede the procession or they may walk just in front of the bride and a page or pages may be added to the group to bear the train of the bride's gown. the bride is always the last to enter and she comes alone or with whoever is to give her away at the altar. as they reach the altar the ushers separate, one half moving to the right, the other to the left. the bridesmaids do likewise, and the maid of honor steps to the left of the bride while she and her father advance toward the space left at the foot of the altar for them. at this point the groom and best man come forward and the bride slips her hand from her father's arm and places it in the hand of the groom, who leads her to the clergyman. her father stands at her right. the ceremony the ceremony is performed in accordance with the rites prescribed by the religious belief of the young people who are about to be married. the clergyman is the person to consult about any embarrassing situations that might arise. as the wedding ring is worn on the same finger that has previously worn the engagement ring the bride usually removes the latter and places it on the corresponding finger of the right hand. she may allow it to remain there after the ceremony or she may place it on the same finger with the wedding ring. it is allowable to leave the engagement ring in place and slip the wedding ring on over it. a word about the ring itself. like many another of our practices to-day its use is a survival from primitive times when women were chattels and a man's wife was his property, his slave to do with as he pleased, and the ring was of heavy iron, a sign of bondage. not more than a decade back the ring was too heavy to be comfortable on the finger, but now it is a slender band of gold or platinum with or without scroll-work or other ornamentation, as the wearer may desire. its symbolism is very beautiful. the precious metal is an emblem of the purity of the love between a man and his wife and the circle itself is a symbol of eternity. before entering the church the bride removes the glove from her left hand and she may give it with her bouquet to the maid of honor to hold during the ceremony. the practice of ripping one finger of the glove so as to leave it bare for the ring is a very foolish one and has never found favor among people of good breeding. it is the part of the best man to look after the groom. his services may be required in connection with many of the preliminary details of the wedding even in the procuring of the license. at the wedding itself he takes charge of the ring and the clergyman's fee, giving the former to the groom just before the ceremony requires him to place it on the bride's finger. the bride's father remains directly behind her until the clergyman asks, "who giveth this woman to this man?" when he comes forward, takes his daughter's hand, lays it in that of the groom, and says, "i do." he then turns away and retires to the pew, where his wife is sitting. leaving the altar when the final blessing has been pronounced the bridal group may stand at the altar for a while receiving their friends and then break up informally, or the procession may leave the church in reverse order from that in which they entered, the bride and groom walking first together, followed by the best man and the maid of honor and the bridesmaids and the ushers walking in pairs. the automobile of the bride and groom should be waiting at the door to whisk them away to the home of the bride, where preparations are made for the wedding journey. throwing the bouquet it is a pretty custom for the bride to throw her bouquet among the bridesmaids (especially lovely when the wedding takes place at home and the bride turns to throw the flowers as she mounts the stairs). it is a happy omen for the young lady who catches the bouquet. she may divide it among the others or she may keep it for herself. it is not compulsory for the bride to part with the bouquet if she prefers to keep it herself. she may press the flowers or she may have rose beads made from the petals or she may dispose of it in any way she desires. a well-known young society woman who was married recently in one of new york's most exclusive churches, ordered all the flowers used in decorations to be sent to a certain hospital to gladden the slowly dragging hours of the sufferers. she has created a precedent that every bride should be proud and happy to follow. after all, the greatest happiness is in making others happy. the joy of the wedding day will gain a new sweetness when a kind deed adds to its pleasure. rather let the sufferers in a hospital enjoy the colorful fragrance of the flowers than permit them to wilt, forgotten, in the church. rice, etc. frequently a shower of rice follows the departing couple, and satin slippers are thrown after the car. care must be taken not to overdo this ancient custom, for although it is considered good luck for one of the satin slippers to alight on the top of the car, it is certainly bad form to give the occasion any appearance whatsoever of vulgarity. it is interesting to trace this custom back to its origin. among the ancient egyptians and hebrews a slipper or sandal was a symbol that denoted an exchange of property. women at that time were regarded as property, and they were given in exchange for other property. later we find, in anglo-saxon marriages, that the bride's father delivers her shoe to the bridegroom, who touches her on the head with it in token of his ownership and authority. the custom prevailed, and still later we find that the idea of good luck is associated with the throwing of slippers at weddings. rice and grain were combined with the ceremony of throwing shoes, obviously indicating a plea to the deity of productiveness to bless the marriage with an abundant supply of nature's bounties. to-day the custom is still in vogue. old satin slippers and handfuls of rice are thrown after the departing couple. it would not be an objectionable custom if some over-enthusiastic individuals did not overdo it to the extent that it becomes almost riotous. after a solemn, dignified, well-ordered wedding ceremony, and a charming reception, it is nothing short of ridiculous to spoil it all by boisterously overdoing an old tradition. the cultured person is always well-poised, always calm--whether it be during the tense moments of the wedding-vow utterances, or the half-glad, half-sad moments of seeing the happy pair off. the wedding reception fashionable weddings, if not celebrated with a wedding breakfast, are followed by a reception either in the afternoon or evening. all the bridal attendants are present, and those relatives and friends who have previously received invitations. the reception takes place in the drawing room of the bride's home. the room is decorated with flowers, and in the hall is a refreshment table on which is punch, cakes and boxes containing favors for each of the guests. the bride and groom stand together under a floral bell and accept the congratulations and good wishes of the guests. the bride's mother and father are at the door of the drawing room to welcome them, and the parents of the groom are also ready to receive and welcome the guests as they arrive. it is an important duty of the ushers, at the wedding reception, to introduce to the bride all those guests whom she does not know. she accepts their congratulations with a smile and a cordial word or two in acknowledgment of the introduction. the wedding breakfast wedding breakfasts, though an old english custom, are often held after the church wedding. if it is decided upon, the guests to be invited should be informed at least two weeks in advance. the occasion has all the dignity and formality of a dinner party. the bride and groom enter the dining room first. they are followed by the bride's mother and the groom's father, and the groom's mother and the bride's father. the bridesmaids and ushers are always invited to the wedding breakfast, and they follow immediately after the parents of the happy couple. the precedence of the other invited guests is arranged by the mother of the bride. the menu at a wedding breakfast is never elaborate. consommée or bouillon, salads, birds, ices, jellies and bonbons are the usual order. coffee and dainty cakes are served last. the wedding cake, if one is served at all, is set before the bride. the bride gives one-and-one-half to two hours to her guests at the wedding breakfast. then she retires to her room, accompanied by the maid of honor and her most intimate friends among the bridesmaids; and when she appears again she is in traveling costume. the groom has also retired to change his clothes, and he meets the bride at the foot of the stairs. the motor is at the door in readiness, and after the last whispered good-bys, warm handclasps and hasty kisses--the bride and groom are off! the wedding present the custom of giving wedding presents dates from away back in dutch history when the relatives and friends of the bride and groom took upon themselves the responsibility of furnishing the new household. great taste and discrimination should be exercised in the selecting of gifts and they should be sent early. two months before the wedding is not too soon. it is wise for the friends whenever possible to consult each other so that they will not duplicate gifts. if most of the silver, etc., is gotten from the same jeweler he is a great help in selecting something that is not only appropriate in itself but in harmony with the other gifts. anyone who receives an invitation may send the bride a gift, though it is not absolutely necessary to respond to the invitation in this way. to the question: "what shall the gift be?" the answer is the prettiest and most useful article within one's means. china and silver are always appropriate, and cut glass, linen, books, and even checks or gold pieces are most acceptable. there is a slight prejudice against giving money as a present at a wedding or at any other time, but one has only to see the joy that the bride and groom get out of spending the money over and over again before they finally do spend it to have this prejudice dispelled. silver and linen are usually marked with the initials of the bride, more often than not with the initials of her maiden name. if there is any doubt as to which she prefers and one is not able to find out indirectly, it is permissible to ask her. gifts should always be accompanied by the cards of the donors, but these should be removed when they are placed on display. acknowledging wedding presents it is not sufficient merely to keep the cards which accompany the wedding gifts but there must be some system by which the bride can remember which gift each one accompanied. she may indicate this on the card itself or she may keep a list of the names of the donors with the names of the gifts opposite, but she _must_ be absolutely sure that she is thanking the right person. [illustration: © brown bros. church decorated for a formal wedding] if the honeymoon is to be only two weeks or thereabouts the bride may wait until her return to thank her friends, but if it is to be of long duration she should write the notes of acknowledgment as soon as she finds it convenient to do so. these personal notes--and a personal note is the only proper way to thank one for a wedding present--are usually written by the bride, but she should always be careful to introduce her husband's name unless the gift was a very intimate one for her alone. the following note is a graceful way for both husband and wife to express their gratitude: _july , ._ _dear rosalind:_ _george and i both wish to thank you for the lovely picture. when we return from atlantic city we shall hang it in our living room where all of our friends can enjoy it with us. we hope that you will be among the first to visit us in our new home._ _very sincerely yours,_ _annie beard hill._ sometimes the groom receives personal gifts from friends of his. to these he writes notes of thanks in his own name. the home wedding home weddings can often be made as impressive as church weddings. with correct decorations the most spacious rooms in the bride's house can be transformed into an interior as lovely as the interior of a beautifully decorated church. for instance, at a fashionable home wedding, held recently, the drawing room was decorated with massive floral wreaths and clusters of palms. a huge bell of flowers hung in the center of the room, and a canopy of flowers, occupying one corner, simulated a chapel. the effect was altogether delightful. only close relatives and friends should be invited to the home wedding. the bridegroom does not enter the home of the bride until a half hour before the ceremony begins, and when he does arrive, he and his best man do not mingle with the other guests but retire to an adjoining room provided for them. the clergyman also retires to this room when he arrives, and it is here that he dons his official robe. the three remain until it is announced that the bride is ready to enter the drawing room. the bride's mother, assisted by her husband, receives the guests. it is not considered good form to begin the ceremony until they have all arrived. then, when everything is in readiness, the bride is met at the head of the stairs by her father, and is conducted by him to the entrance of the room. usually there is no elaborate wedding procession, and even in the most fashionable home wedding there is often only a maid or matron of honor to precede the bride. there are rarely more than half a dozen bridesmaids at most. the order of precedence is similar to that of the church wedding; the clergyman performs the ceremony under a floral canopy, and when it is completed, he steps aside and the newly married couple take his place to receive the congratulations and good wishes of the guests. the wedding breakfast or reception proceeds immediately upon the conclusion of the ceremony. everyone present is a guest; and everyone present attends the reception. the second wedding when a woman marries for the second time, her wedding should be very conservative. elaborate ceremonies would, indeed, be out of place. however, the more important conditions of the ceremony are followed very much along the same lines. white is for the girl-bride only. the woman who marries for the second time indulges in none of the age-old customs that the first bride does. she does not wear a white veil; she does not carry orange blossoms; she does not have flower girls or pages or bridesmaids. the more inconspicuous the second wedding is, the more it is in accordance with the rules of etiquette. the bride-for-the-second-time may have a maid of honor only on one occasion. if she has a church wedding and invites numerous guests, she may have a maid of honor to precede her to the altar. as in the first wedding, her father gives her away. her family assumes all responsibility for the expenses involved unless she prefers to do so herself. if a reception is given after the ceremony, the same order of precedence is followed as after the first wedding; the reception may be held either in the home of the bride's parents, or in her own home. if married in church, there are none of the elaborate decorations that characterize the first bridal, although flowers are always acceptable. especially if the second ceremony takes place only a short time after the mourning period for the first husband, any conspicuous display is in very bad taste. some important conventions it is customary for a widow to remove the engagement ring and wedding ring of her first husband before the day of her second wedding. the sight of them cannot be in any way pleasant to her new husband, and they may be a source of sorrowful memory to her. it is best to discard them as soon as the second marriage is decided upon. there has always been some doubt as to whether or not the family of the second-bride's first husband should be invited to her wedding. absolutely. there is no reason why they should be ignored, any more than any of the other friends and acquaintances of the bride. in fact, she owes them a special courtesy, and if they accept the invitation, they must be treated with the kindest attention and courtesy. they must always occupy seats below the white ribbon, if the wedding is held at church. if there is for any reason dissension or disagreement between her and her first husband's family, she will not of course invite them. but that may only be an individual case; the general rule is to invite them and treat them with the utmost consideration. gifts at the second wedding will not be as elaborate as those at the first wedding. however, each gift must be acknowledged with a cordial note of thanks. in fact, all the etiquette of the first wedding is observed, except that it is on a much simpler scale. as for the man who marries for the second time, he, too, follows the original dictates of wedding etiquette, and eliminates only the farewell bachelor dinner. here also the ceremony and reception is on a considerably less extravagant style. seeking advice the girl or woman who is about to be married can always get helpful suggestions from her friends who have been married or have witnessed fashionable weddings. the minister in charge is especially qualified to give you a great deal of important advice, and one should never hesitate to consult him. in his official capacity he has doubtless served at many weddings, many of them well-nigh perfect, some of them marred by the very blunders that he can teach you to avoid. wedding anniversaries there is something strangely beautiful and poetic in the celebration of a wedding anniversary. it arouses slumbering sentiments and mellows old memories into a throbbing happiness. here are the wedding anniversaries that are usually celebrated in our better society: the paper wedding--first year. the wooden wedding--fifth year. the tin wedding--tenth year. the leather wedding--twelfth year. the crystal wedding--fifteenth year. the china wedding--twentieth year. the silver wedding--twenty-fifth year. the ivory wedding--thirtieth year. the woolen wedding--fortieth year. the silk wedding--forty-fifth year. the golden wedding--fiftieth year. the diamond wedding--seventy-fifth year. although many families celebrate all of these anniversaries, it is more generally the fashion to disregard all those that come before the quarter-century mark. the first anniversary to be celebrated is usually the silver wedding. the most favored way of doing this is to have a dinner party or a reception. sometimes, especially when there are young unmarried daughters, a dance is given and a dinner follows later. the silver wedding cards for the silver wedding reception should be printed on white or silver-gray paper. they may be printed in silver or black. they may be worded in the usual "at home" form, or may be in this form: _mr. and mrs. s. brown request the pleasure of ............'s presence at the dinner reception of their silver wedding on tuesday, june the fourteenth at seven o'clock _ if an invitation like the one above is issued, the guests will undoubtedly send beautiful gifts of silver--unless, as is often the case, it is requested in the invitation that no gifts be presented. sometimes, in fact, the bride and groom of twenty-five years commemorate their silver wedding by themselves, sending handsome gifts of silver to those who started out in married life at about the same time that they did, but who have not been materially so fortunate. the reception if a reception celebrates the silver wedding, the husband assists his wife in receiving. often the occasion begins at the precise hour at which the marriage took place; but usually the preferred time is in the late afternoon or evening. the "bridal couple" should make an effort to have as many as the original party of bridal attendants present as possible. it will be interesting for the best man and the maid of honor to have a little chat together after twenty-five years. the husband leads the way to the dining room with his wife on his arm, and she sits at the right of him at the table. if the historic wedding cake is included in the collation, it is placed before the bride, just as it was twenty-five years ago. the table decorations should be white and silver, with a touch of green. the menu will be the regular formal dinner menu, served and garnished with a regard for decorative effect. speeches are in order, and a toast is usually proposed for the couple. the husband responds with a little speech in which he honors his wife, and she acknowledges with a smile that is in itself sufficient eloquence for the occasion. tiny silver favors, packed neatly in small white boxes and tied with silver ribbon are effective novelties at the silver wedding. tin and wooden weddings a general frolic is in order at the tin wedding. it is rarely celebrated, in fact, unless the ten-year-married husband and wife wish to gather together all their old friends and have a jolly good time. gifts are usually in the form of tin kitchen utensils, tin candle-sticks, tin fans, tin ornaments--even tin tables and chairs are offered as gifts to celebrate the tenth anniversary. a dinner, very much like the ordinary informal dinner except for the additional "tin" celebrations, follows the reception. wooden weddings are not very often held, although some very fashionable ones are recorded in the annals of social history. rolling-pins, step-ladders, and wooden kitchen utensils cause much merriment when presented as gifts, and the occasion is generally one of much pleasant raillery. wooden ornaments make very appropriate gifts for this wedding, and a bit of wood artistically carved is always welcome to the five-year bride who loves pretty things for the home. the golden wedding to have lived fifty years together, to have shared for fifty years each other's sorrows, joys and hopes, is to have enjoyed one of the greatest gifts life has to offer. it is an occasion well worthy of the most elaborate celebration. a golden wedding has a touch of the romantic, a touch of the sentimental about it. poets like to write about it; people like to dream about it. when it becomes a reality, all the world likes to watch--and wonder. it is a solemn and dignified event and should be treated as an occasion of the utmost importance. the couple should issue pure white cards engraved in gold, announcing the celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of their wedding day. it is touching to have the maid of honor and the best man present, if they are both still living. as many of the original bridal attendants as are available should be invited, and all the old friends and acquaintances of the family. there must be no levity, the couple must be treated with reverence and honor, and the occasion must be given every appearance of dignified importance. unlike the silver wedding, gifts are always presented to the aged couple at the golden wedding. delicate pieces of gold jewelry are always pleasing to the "bride." the "groom" may be presented with gold shirt-studs, cuff-links or rings. gold services, gold chased cups, golden goblets and golden candle sticks are most appropriate. the dinner should be elaborate. a huge wedding cake, inscribed with a frosting of the surnames and wedding date of the couple is worthy of holding the place of honor in the center of the table. once again the "bride" enjoys the privilege of being the first to cut the cake--and in or with each slice that is given to the guests there should be some little golden token, a ring or thimble or tiny jewel box. if this is too costly, a golden flower such as a daffodil may be placed on each plate. a beautiful and touching sentiment to be observed on the golden wedding is for the bride to wear something from her wedding day. perhaps it is a treasured bit of the bridal veil. perhaps it is a fan, or a pair of gloves, or even the wedding dress itself. she also carries a bouquet of white flowers--as she did fifty years ago on her first wedding day. the golden wedding a glorious achievement beautiful indeed is the celebration of the golden wedding. with her children and grandchildren and friends grouped around her, with her husband at her side, doing her every honor he might pay a newly-won bride, the bride of fifty years can be naught but inexpressibly happy--though memories of lost youth rise constantly to haunt her. it is glorious--this reaching fifty years of married life--and any couple may well be proud to commemorate its occasion. and, after all, isn't it happiness that makes life worth while? of what use is wealth and power and position if we cannot have the ones we love, the ones who love us? the man and woman who have lived together in happy companionship for fifty years have more in their love of each other than the man who has lived alone for fifty years and amassed tremendous riches. chapter vi the bride's outfit origin of the trousseau one must study the marriage customs of many countries before the development of the trousseau idea can be fully traced. but it is interesting--especially to the bride--to discover that at her impressive marriage ceremony to-day she is merely repeating the ancient customs of her ancestors, so very far back that europe itself was not yet known. we find the first trace of it in the book of genesis (gen. xxiv. ). perhaps you remember the story. abraham's servant eliezer brought handsome jewels to rebecca as a seal to the marriage compact. it is one of the earliest evidences of outfitting for the wedding. and then we find a trace of it among the early eskimos, where the bridegroom must supply his bride with all the clothes necessary for the "honeymoon." later, in roumania, we find the clothes and shoes are a very important part of the gifts to the bride. largely from the customs practiced in this latter country, but also from italy, sweden, and greece, the idea of the marriage trousseau sprang. the development is most marked in roumania. here we find the tiniest girls, some of them as young as five years, working on bridal finery--each one striving to outdo the other in beauty and elaboration of work. each finished article is laid carefully away in a huge chest, until such time as a suitor appears. in days gone by, the bridegroom had the privilege of examining the trousseau and deciding whether or not it was complete, and often his choice rested upon the worth of the bride's outfit. perhaps it was because a complete outfit was so very necessary to the young girl starting out upon her new duties as a wife that the development of the trousseau has been so rapid. in the year , at the wedding of edward ii to isabella of france, the trousseau played an important part indeed. here is a description of the bride's outfit, as taken from e. l. urlin's book, "a short history of marriage:" "she (isabella) brought two gold crowns ornamented with gems, gold and silver drinking vessels, golden spoons and fifty silver plates. her dresses were made of gold and silver stuff, velvet and taffetas. she had six dresses of green cloth, six of rose scarlet and many costly furs. for linen she had yards, and the tapestries for her chamber were elaborate with the arms of england and france woven in gold." elaborate, yes, and certainly "fit for a queen." but perhaps we find the trousseaux of our misses of the twentieth century more interesting! the trousseau of to-day it would be ridiculous to attempt to list the articles that must be included in the trousseau of the bride of to-day. this matter must be entirely dependent upon circumstances, means and convenience. there can be no definite set of rules to govern the contents of one's wedding outfit. but there are certain conventionalities we can discuss that may be of value to the bride in preparing for her wedding. there is, of course, something very beautiful in the thought of making one's trousseau entirely by hand. and there is an old tradition about "sewing happiness into the wedding outfit" that brides like to believe. but when we glance at the shop windows with their lavish displays of the daintiest creations, and when we think of the professional modiste with her developed sense of the artistic, we must admit that it is not a practical custom. it used to be the practice for each young girl to have a "hope chest" into which she put linens, etc., against the wedding day. this was during the time when most of the trousseaux were made by hand. it seems rather a foolish waste of time for the girl of moderate means to sit for endless hours sewing on rows and rows of lace when machine made garments may be had at reasonable figures. if she chooses her things carefully they will bear the stamp of her personality almost as much as if she had fashioned them herself; and, of course, there are many finishing touches that she can add which make the things peculiarly her own, such as initials and monograms, crocheted edges, etc. it is gratifying to note that the trousseau of to-day does not contain such frilly, useless things as did the trousseaux of our grandmothers' time. linens boast deep folds of the material and neat hemstitching instead of huge borders and inserts of lace. under-things are made and bought with a regard for wear and utility, rather than merely to be pretty to look at. the entire outfit shows a tendency to be more useful and less ornamental. which is, of course, as it should be. and now let us consider some of the more important items to be included. about the linens in selecting her linens the bride should pay particular attention to quality; the amount she buys depends upon the size of the new home, and upon the means at her command. there must be sheets and pillow-cases; bath towels and kitchen towels, napkins and table-covers. if she is fond of handwork, there may be hand-embroidered linens for the bed-spreads, hand-embroidered linen scarfs and hand-embroidered centerpieces of linen. one bride we know included a twenty-yard bolster of uncut linen in her trousseau in addition to the items mentioned above. if one can afford it, it is best to start out with a generous supply of linens, as somehow the older they grow, the longer we have them, the more precious they become. linens are usually initialed. when household and personal linens are marked, they bear the initials of the bride's maiden name. towels for the bath are marked with a single initial in white or colored thread, to match the border. table-covers, if initialed at all, have the letters placed in the center, half-way between the middle and edge of the table; napkins are initialed in the corner. white linens are invariably initialed in white. for the bride "girl, do not exult in thy wedding dress; see how much trouble lurks behind it," says an old syrian proverb. but where is the little american bride who does not exult in her dainty wedding things--who does not glory in the silks and cottons and laces and ribbons of her trousseau? always a lover of the beautiful--especially in clothes--she finds a new charm in these pretty things that portend so much happiness to come. there are her underthings--soft, frivolous, much-beribboned chemises, camisoles and petticoats. some are of practical muslin or soft, crinkly crêpe. others are of rich _crêpe-de-chine_, and lately, knitted undergarments of silk are favored. then, there are the dresses, her chief delight. there is one smart street dress of serge or poiret twill; an afternoon frock or two of taffeta, georgette or satin as she prefers; one elaborate evening gown for important occasions, and one very much less elaborate for semi-evening affairs. and if she is a wise bride, she will include a smart dark-colored suit, with several fluffy little blouses. then, of course, there are the crisp, neat, becoming little frocks for the morning-at-home. but she should not make the mistake, which is all too common to brides, of getting several times as much as she needs. other details, such as hose, shoes and hats are best decided by the bride herself. in fact, the entire trousseau must be determined by the bride in proportion to such important considerations as her means, the length of the honeymoon, and the distance of the trip she expects to make. the items above were offered as a suggestion, and one may add or detract according to the dictates of common sense. it is suggested, however, that the trousseau be small and carefully selected, rather than large and expensive, for the fashions are constantly changing and not even so momentous an occasion as one's wedding warrants heedless extravagance. the wedding dress the origin of the white gown for the bride is not very difficult to trace. white, since time immemorial, has been the color used to denote purity. white animals, in certain countries, are held sacred, just as the white flowers are sacred elsewhere. the exclusive use of white for the bride is supposed to have grown out of an old custom of the patagonians, who cover the body with white paint on the eve of the wedding ceremony. to-day the keynote of the wedding gown is simplicity. the days of elaborate gowns with trains so heavy with the weight of precious jewels that eight girls had to carry them, is over. the sensible american bride knows that simplicity is more becoming to the solemn dignity of the occasion than extremely elaborate dress. with styles constantly changing as they do, it would be of no value to offer any description here. however, this little item, taken from the announcement of a fashionable wedding recently held, may offer some helpful suggestions: "the gown in which miss ---- became the countess ---- was of heavy white satin cut with an almost austere simplicity. the drapery of the skirt was marked with a garland of lilies and orange-blossoms. the tulle veil was bordered with old english point lace, an heirloom of the ---- family." from a study of the descriptions of other bridal gowns at recent important weddings, we find that satin is without doubt the favorite material. _crêpe-de-chine_ and heavy white brocade are also used; and the bride may select whichever material she likes best, something soft and clinging unless she is inclined to be too slender, when taffeta is more suitable. undoubtedly, no matter what the style of the gown happens to be, it should boast a train; and a draped skirt is always a popular wedding mode. the length of the sleeves and skirt is entirely governed by the fashion of the moment. white satin slippers and white gloves enhance the simple beauty of the wedding gown. jewels are rarely worn, except, perhaps, one large gem--a gift of the groom. the bride's veil according to the marriage rites of the ancient hebrews, ordained in days when marriage itself was unknown in many countries, a canopy must be held over the bride and groom by four intimate friends of the family. later, we find that this custom among the early hebrews, presaged an anglo-saxon custom of erecting a "care cloth" (a square vestment) above the bride and groom. out of this developed that of covering the bride alone; to-day the beautiful bridal veil is the result of those ancient customs. not so long ago, the veil was of tulle, and from the top of the bride's head it fell over her shoulders, completely enveloping her to the very tips of her shoes. this all-enveloping veil is no longer considered good form. in its place, is the very charming veil that is gathered into a becoming, flower-trimmed crown at the back of her head, falling gracefully to the train of the dress, leaving the face entirely uncovered. the veil is always of filmy material. tulle is favored; and lace is particularly beautiful, especially if it is old lace that has been a long time in the bride's family. however, tulle is preferable to imitation lace. orange blossoms or tiny lilies-of-the-valley may be entwined around the crown of the head, a spray or two nestling in the folds of the veil. wedding flowers important, indeed, is the bride's bouquet. many a delicate flower pressed between the leaves of a book and cherished in mind and heart alike is silent and eloquent proof of this fact. the most conventional form is the shower bouquet. this is a veritable cascade of flowers and ribbon; white roses, orange-blossoms or lilies-of-the-valley--or a combination of all three--are massed together in the center, entwined with narrow satin ribbon. from this "heart of flowers" lengths of ribbon wound around individual flowers trail almost to the hem of the bride's gown. it produces a most charming effect. often an ordinary bouquet of flowers is carried, which is just as pretty if not as elaborate as the shower bouquet. green foliage is, of course, permissible; but there is a tendency against flowers of bright hues. appearing entirely in white, is one of the customs which, ordinarily, the bride should observe, not only for the traditions woven around it, but the suggestions of sweet dignity, purity and girlishness that are associated with it. lilies are appealing bridal flowers for this same reason. an exception is the civil wedding, or the hurried, simple wedding when the bride is attired in traveling costume. but this will be taken up in detail in a later paragraph. dress of the maid of honor satin is the most favored material for the dress of the maid of honor. it may be white, trimmed with pale colors, or it may be entirely pale pink or pale blue or some other becoming color. on no occasion may the maid of honor be dressed in pure white. her dress is always different from those worn by the bridesmaids. the style is a matter of taste and prevalent fashion. if the wedding takes place at noon in a church, the gown is either sleeveless or with very short sleeves, and it may or may not have a train, according to the taste of the wearer. like the bride, she wears white gloves and carries flowers. if the wedding is held in the afternoon or evening, at home, the maid of honor's gown is less formal. it may be a dainty afternoon frock of taffeta or satin, sometimes embroidered georgette dresses are worn--that is, for the afternoon alone. when it is in the evening, a silk gown may be worn. marrying in traveling dress very often, when a wedding takes place before twelve o'clock, or when because of a difference of religious opinion the ceremony is performed by a justice of the peace, or when the wedding is to be a very simple one, or when for a number of other possible reasons the bride wishes it she wears a smart traveling suit instead of the white wedding gown. the suit should be conservative in style and color. flowers should be in the form of a corsage. neither bouquets nor cut flowers are carried when one is in traveling costume. instead of a suit a dress may be worn but it must be an attractive afternoon frock or street dress, not an evening dress of any sort. when the bride is a widow marrying for the second time her dress is characterized by extreme simplicity whether the wedding takes place in the afternoon or evening. chapter vii funerals funeral customs there is no more eloquent commentary on the vanity of human wishes than the pomp and ceremony which, since the first syllable of recorded time have attended funeral services. kings and emperors have erected splendid mausoleums in which they and their families might be buried, pharaohs have kept slaves at work for twenty years on a pyramid beneath whose stones their bones might rest, savages in lonely forests have builded great mounds under which their chiefs may wait for the time to go to the happy hunting grounds. slave and emperor, prince and pauper--it is all the same. last week in new york a woman died in the ward where they treat patients free of charge, yet for more than fifteen years she had been paying premiums on an insurance policy which would permit her to have a funeral "as good as anybody's funeral." three weeks ago a boy in a small town in iowa spent nearly all he had in defraying the expenses of the funeral of his mother. in this case, and indeed in many another, a simple ceremony would have been far more appropriate, for even in paying the last tributes of respect to the dead there must be the saving grace of common sense. it is like salt--everything is the better for a pinch of it. recently a candidate for the doctor's degree at one of the largest universities in the country chose for the subject of his thesis "funeral customs throughout the ages." it is too large a subject for us to enter into here, and it would profit us little, for the day of hired mourners and splendid pageantry together with obtrusive music and gorgeous flowers is past. simplicity characterizes the entire service among well-bred people everywhere. the music is soft and the flowers in many cases are sent to the hospitals where they may gladden the sufferers there instead of being allowed to wilt neglected on the grave. more often than not, nowadays, there is added to the notice of the funeral which is inserted in the newspapers the sentence, "please omit flowers." even in the most primitive times it was felt that the dead were going forth on a long, long journey from which they would never return, and their friends wanted to do whatever they could to speed them along the way. it was in this manner that the custom of offering gifts to the dead came about. these gifts range all the way from food and household utensils to clothing, weapons and money. the money was sometimes gold, sometimes silver and sometimes paper, but in most instances it was to serve as a tip to the ferryman who was to row them across the river that separates this life from the next. the funeral of to-day not long ago a new york newspaper devoted a full page in its magazine section to an article called "a king's mother buried." the purpose of the article was to reveal forcibly the mockery of some of our elaborate funerals of to-day, and show how they are proportionately no more civilized than those barbarous rituals of the early days. the story is worthy of repetition here. a certain savage queen was murdered by her son. to convince the people that she had died a natural death, the son made her burial especially elaborate and impressive. first a huge hole was dug in the ground, in which the dead queen was placed in an upright position. beside her was placed a large jug of water. and into this great hole were placed also ten young girls, who were to be buried alive to accompany the dead queen upon her journey. the hole was then covered with earth, and above it thousands of men were set to fighting each other until the ground was soaked with blood. this was not only to honor the dead queen, but to keep ill-luck away from the king. you are horrified when you read about this savage burial. you wonder at the superstitious ignorance that allows ten girls to be buried alive, and thousands of young men to be slaughtered, merely in honor of a murdered queen and her brutal son. but considering the knowledge of those savages and our knowledge to-day, their education and our education, we find that we are entitled to no excessive praise. the funerals to-day are often comparatively as ridiculous and uncivilized, though the tendency is certainly toward better things. to give one specific instance, there is the widow who spends every dollar left her by a departed husband to pay for an elaborate funeral for him. in the eyes of the world, he must be buried "right"; and though it leaves her in debt, she makes an impressive funeral service. would it not have been more sensible to bury him simply and unostentatiously, preserving a little of the money left her for the necessities of life? it is one of the ironies of life that often more attention and honor are paid to the dead than they ever receive in life. if we study present-day funerals carefully we will find that they have much in common with those savage burials of other days. it is because we do things merely because others did the same things before us. we have certain beliefs because tradition says they are true, and therefore, no matter how absurd they are, they are _right_, and we must hold to them with the same fervor of conviction that makes the savage cling to his. when death enters the family aside from its psychological aspects--those entailing fear, superstition and the belief in religious and traditional customs--death brings with it heartache and sorrow. to lose a beloved one in death is to be conscious of the intangible something that binds the world together, and upon which all civilization is based. we call it love; and we know that it is the deepest tie of affection--indeed, the deepest emotion--of which human nature is capable. and so, death brings with it sorrow and misery. those of us who are most directly concerned can think of no rules of etiquette, no customs of good society, when we are suffering a deep bereavement. we think only of our great loss, and of our great sorrow. that is why it is necessary for us all to know the rules of correct conduct, so that when death does enter our household we will instinctively do what is correct. it is a test like this that shows innate good breeding. one great rule to remember, for those who come in contact with people who have lost a beloved member of the family, is that sorrow is sacred, and that it is one of the most unforgivable breaches of good behavior to intrude upon it. a note of condolence, or a brief visit is a necessary social duty; but constant intrusion upon grief is as unkind and inconsiderate as it is ill-bred. taking charge the world over, funeral customs have one factor in common: the belief that the dead man has not ceased to live. this belief finds expression in rites and ceremonies. it is for this reason that funeral and mourning practices are highly conventional. another reason, perhaps, is because death is a shock, and a round of conventional ceremonies alleviates that strained feeling during the period of readjustment. thus, the members of the bereaved family should be left as nearly alone to their grief as possible. nothing in the nature of business should be thrust upon them. a male member of the family should take complete charge; or the immediate duties may be left in the hands of the nearest outside relatives. but whoever does take charge should see that the family is not troubled with the minor details, and that the funeral ceremony is carried out according to the family's preconfided wishes. the duties of the person, or persons, who take charge are many and varied. the first duty is to see that all the blinds are drawn and that the door-bell is muffled. proper announcements must be made in the newspapers, pall-bearers must be selected, and the arrangements must be made with the sexton for the funeral itself. the clergyman who is to officiate must be interviewed and all the details concerning services, music and decorations of the church must be determined. upon the person in charge also rests the duty of seeing that the undertaker does not take advantage of his authority to the extent of making the funeral unduly lavish. it is within the power of the person who takes charge at a funeral to mitigate considerably the grief of the family. and it is a service that the family will not soon forget. announcing the death modern funeral customs demand a few lines in the newspapers making public announcement of a death. attendant ceremonies are also included for the benefit of friends and acquaintances of the family. following is a typical announcement of a death, copied with only a change in names from the newspaper: radcliff--at her residence, west fiftieth street, rose speyer radcliff, daughter of james and helen wilson speyer, and beloved wife of robert l. radcliff. funeral services in the chapel of st. bartholomew's church, park avenue and fiftieth street, new york city, on saturday morning, o'clock. interment at waterbury, conn. when an announcement of this kind appears in the newspapers all friends and relatives of the family are expected to appear at st. bartholomew's church on saturday morning at o'clock to attend the services. if the words "funeral private" or "interment private" are added to the announcement, it is the height of ill-breeding for any except very intimate friends and relatives to be present. very often the request "kindly omit flowers," or "please omit flowers" is added to the announcement of a death. in this event it is still the privilege of a friend to send flowers to some member of the family or to the family as a whole after the funeral ceremony has taken place. some necessary preparations where there are servants, one should be stationed at the door to receive cards and messages. otherwise this duty devolves upon the person who is taking charge. the servant should wear a black gown, white collar and cuffs and a white apron and white cap with black ribbons. if a man-servant is stationed at the door he wears a complete black livery. with the growing taste for privacy and simplicity, many of the foolish demonstrations of grief, expressed in outward display, have been eliminated. it is now a very rare occurrence for the room in which the dead body lies to be filled with wreaths and masses of flowers, for people are beginning to realize that this is a relic of ancient and savage burial customs, and that it is not so much a manifestation of grief as a display of vanity. of course it is a pretty way of expressing sentiment to send a floral offering to some one who has died; but modern principles of good conduct acclaim it better taste, and certainly more dignified, to express these sentiments of regard in some other way. a short expression of sorrow appearing as a semi-public announcement in the newspaper after the announcement of the death may be offered by a group of friends or business associates but it is not good form for a member of the family of the deceased to insert such an announcement in the papers. family grief is private; and publicity cheapens it. the somber crêpe announcing to the world that a death has occurred in the family is also fast becoming a thing of the past. one can easily see in this custom of crêpe-hanging a relic of that custom of ancient patagonia that required all belongings of the deceased to be painted black. even the body of the person who died was covered with black paint. the black crêpe of to-day is merely another form of that same custom. now, instead of the broad black ribbon, a wreath or long sprays of white or lilac flowers are entwined around the flowing ends of white ribbon. this is especially appropriate when the deceased is a young person--man or woman. for a girl of tender years, or for a very young child, a sheaf of white roses or white carnations with white ribbons should be used; roses and violets with a white ribbon, or roses with a black ribbon denote the death of an older unmarried man or woman. the plain crêpe streamers are usually used for married people. custom still demands this flower-and-ribbon tribute to the dead on the door of his or her residence, but gradually this custom, too, will be relegated to the forgotten things of the past. the ladies of the family a close friend or relative of the bereaved family should make the necessary purchases for the women members of that family. it is considered bad form for them to be seen abroad before the funeral. a dressmaker should be summoned to the house if orders are to be given for mourning dress. the duty of writing necessary notes and seeing callers also devolves upon some intimate relative or friend. notes or letters written in the name of the family are on either black-edged or plain white paper, and signed with the names of the people for whom they are written. thus, if mrs. carr's husband has died, and her cousin is attending to the incident preparations and duties, the notes and letters written for mrs. carr would be signed with her name and not the name of the cousin, but with the initials of the cousin beneath the signature. the ladies of a bereaved family should not see callers, even the most intimate friends, unless they are able to control their grief. it is a source of discomfort to the visitor, as well as to the mourner, to enact a scene of semi-hysteria in the drawing-room. yet, at a time like this, one can hardly be expected to be in full control of one's emotions. therefore it is always wise for the women to keep to their rooms until after the funeral. the pall-bearers if a guard of honor is to be appointed, the person in charge should consult the wishes of the immediate family. those who are asked to serve receive an invitation by note or by messenger, sent either by the head of the family of the deceased or by the person in charge. relatives are seldom appointed as pall-bearers. a request to serve as pall-bearer should be refused only for the most imperative reasons. the number and age of the pall-bearers is a matter of taste and not of obligation. but it is considered good form to have six young girls, dressed in white, as the guard of honor for a young girl or woman. they should be selected from among intimate friends. similarly, six young men are appropriate for a young man who has died; while for an elderly married man, eight gentlemen from among his closest friends and business associates form the usual guard of honor. the pall-bearers, in the invitation, are told just when they are expected to assemble at the house of the deceased, and they should make it a particular point to be on time. there can be no greater breach of good manners, and in fact no greater unkindness, than to keep a funeral party waiting. if the pall-bearers are to be women, the carriages or cars may be sent for them individually; but as a general rule, pall-bearers are shown to their carriage or car before the door, when the funeral procession begins. it is customary for all who attend a church funeral to assemble at the church, but this rule does not pertain to the pall-bearers. they are the only ones who accompany the immediate family and relatives from the house. unless a special request to the contrary has been made, pall-bearers may send flowers if they wish. duties of pall-bearers a prompt answer is necessary upon receipt of an invitation to serve as pall-bearer. illness or absence from town at the time of the funeral are the only excuses for refusing to accept the invitation. the written answer must be followed by a personal call at the home of the deceased, and cards must be left. formerly the duty of the pall-bearer was to carry the cloth or velvet pall that covered the coffin--hence the name. later the custom developed into a more important duty--the pall-bearers actually carried the casket into and out of the church. this is still done, although now the accepted form is for the pall-bearers to appear solely as a guard of honor for the dead. in this latter case, they walk before the casket which is carried by the undertaker's or sexton's assistants. they halt before the hearse and stand in silent reverence with heads uncovered, while the casket is being placed into it, and again when it is taken out to be conveyed into the church. they do not enter their cars until the hearse has passed on ahead. each pall-bearer should speak a few words of condolence to the members of the bereaved family. however, he must not make obvious efforts to observe this duty, nor must he intrude upon grief. he offers his words of comfort only when it is convenient and when he is brought, by his duties, into the presence of his sorrowing friends. he should be kind, and most of all, tactful. he should not say anything that will cause a fresh outburst of grief. a few days after the funeral, it is expected that the pall-bearer call and leave his card for the mourners. it is necessary only for him to inquire at the door after the ladies and to leave his card. it is more considerate not to ask to see the members of the family. the church funeral because it is closely allied with religion, the funeral ceremony is nearly always conducted at church. of course this is something entirely dependent upon conditions and personal preferences, but the church funeral is always more dignified and impressive. the pall-bearers and nearest relatives of the deceased assemble at the house. otherwise, all who are to attend the funeral assemble at the church. the casket is borne from the house by the undertaker's assistants, the pall-bearers preceding it two-by-two. as soon as the hearse drives off, the pall-bearers enter the carriages or cars immediately behind it, and the relatives follow in the next cars in the order of their relationship. when the procession is ready to move, the music begins and the casket is borne down the aisle to the altar by the sexton's assistants. sometimes the pall-bearers carry the casket to the altar. order of precedence when attending the body of their child, parents walk arm in arm, their other children following immediately behind them in the order of seniority. pall-bearers invariably precede the casket. a widow attends the body of her husband on the arm of her eldest son or daughter, with her other children just behind. after them come the deceased man's parents, followed by his brothers and sisters. similarly, a widower follows the body of his wife attended by his eldest son or daughter. children following the body of their only parent take precedence according to their ages, the elder always leading. a widow who has no children follows her husband on the arm of a brother or other near masculine relative. during the services at the church, the relatives occupy the front pews on the right of the center aisle. the pall-bearers sit in the opposite pews on the left-hand side. after the services the procession leaves the church in the same order observed upon entering. if prayers are to be offered at the grave, the car of the clergyman follows immediately after the hearse. different religions have different burial services, but these are matters of faith rather than of etiquette. the house funeral a house funeral should always be very simple. few flowers are used by people of good taste. at a house funeral, a number of folding-chairs may be provided by the undertaker. the casket is placed on a draped stand at one end of the drawing-room, such flowers as are used being placed on and around it. the room may or may not be darkened according to the wishes of the family. each guest should be greeted at the door by some representative of the family and shown to a seat in the drawing-room. a row of seats should be reserved near the casket for the immediate family, one being set aside for the clergyman who is to officiate. though it is not obligatory it is very courteous to send a carriage or an automobile for him. a protestant clergyman does not expect a fee but if he has come some distance or if the family wishes to express their thanks in that manner they may offer one which he is privileged to accept with perfect propriety. it is not necessary to appoint pall-bearers for a home funeral. a quiet reserve and dignity should characterize the occasion, and it should be carried out with the greatest amount of expediency possible. if music is desired, the musicians or choristers should be in an adjacent room and the notes should be very low and soft. women do not remove their wraps during the ceremony, and men carry their hats in their hands. the women members of the bereaved family enter on the arms of masculine relatives, and if they intend going to the cemetery, they wear their hats and veils. the members of the family, however, do not enter the drawing-room until the clergyman arrives. after the ceremony the guests quietly disperse, only those remaining who intend going to the cemetery. it is not expected that expressions of sympathy be offered on this occasion; cards are left for the family immediately after the announcement of the death, and a call of condolence is made, according to society's rules, within a week after the funeral. thus it is superfluous to offer sympathy at the services, unless one is a very dear friend and wishes particularly to do so. a point of importance very often the women of the family, or perhaps just one woman, finds her grief uncontrollable. even though the funeral is private, and only relatives and close friends are present it is the privilege of the bereaved to keep to her room and find solace in solitude. the world will not censure her for being absent; it is a time when petty conventions may safely be overlooked. when one is grieving, suffering, miserable; and prefers to find peace alone, without the sympathies of others, she has every right in the world to do so. and she is breaking no rules of good conduct, either, for people of good breeding will recognize the depth of her overpowering grief. surely it is better to remain away from the services than to go in a state of hysteria. when sorrow is so poignant, private home services are usually held, in which case the immediate members of the family may gather in a room adjoining that in which the guests are assembled. even in the deepest grief it is possible to remember and observe the great law--"be calm, be silent and serene," and tears do not always mean sorrow, nor loud wailing, grief. removing signs of grief upon their return from the funeral, the family should find the windows open with the warm sunlight streaming through them and all outward signs of sorrow removed. the ribbon and flowers on the door are generally taken down as soon as the procession leaves. in the house, all signs of the bereavement should be effaced. the furniture should be placed in its usual order. everything connected with the funeral must be out of sight. the members of the family should be greeted with nothing, upon their return, that would possibly give cause for fresh sorrow. a considerate friend or relative should stay behind to attend to these details. it is not enough to leave everything in the hands of the undertaker and his assistants. but even relatives should remember that the bereaved ones will want to be by themselves, and that solitude is often the greatest solace for grief. seclusion during mourning for three weeks after a bereavement, women seclude themselves and receive no visitors except their most intimate friends. after this they are expected to be sufficiently resigned to receive the calls of condolence of their friends and acquaintances. they themselves make no visits until six months after the death. while wearing crêpe veil and crêpe-trimmed gowns, a woman should refrain from taking part in all social gaieties. after the crêpe has been discarded, she may attend concerts, dinners and luncheons, and the theater; but she attends no large social functions or fashionable dinners until at least a year after the date of death. the usual round of social duties, including balls and the opera, are not resumed until colors are once again adopted. a man does not observe the etiquette of mourning as rigidly as his wife or daughter; but it is necessary to mention here that it is exceedingly bad form for him to resume his active social duties, such as club dinners and entertainments, the theater, calls, small dinners with friends, until at least two months have elapsed. if business permits, he may observe ten days or two weeks of absolute seclusion. dress at funerals those who attend the funeral should not appear in gay or brightly-colored clothes, in deference for the feelings of the sorrowing relatives. women who wear simple, unrelieved black display an excellent taste although any subdued color is equally good. gentlemen should wear either complete suits of black, or those of material dark enough to be suited to the solemnity of the occasion. gray trousers with a black cutaway are permissible. a quiet hat, gloves and necktie are worn. vivid colors, either on a man or woman, show a disregard for the feeling of the mourners, a lack of respect for oneself, and a distinct ignorance of the laws of good conduct. it is not a gala occasion and levity of any sort is atrociously bad form. interment and cremation etiquette has nothing to say with regard to the disposal of the body of the deceased. whether it is to be interred or cremated, whether the casket shall rest in a grave or a vault or a mausoleum or whether the ashes shall be preserved in an urn or scattered upon a well-loved river or hill or upon some other chosen spot is entirely a matter of personal preference. but etiquette unites with the laws of beauty and refined sentiment in protesting against the erecting of hideous monuments with absurd inscriptions. the purpose of the tombstone is to mark the resting place and to bear the name and the date of the birth and death of the person who lies beneath it. if the life itself has not left a record that will last a marble slab will not do much to perpetuate it. sometimes there is a special achievement or a mark of distinction which may with propriety be cut into the stone or the family of the deceased may inscribe thereupon an expression of their grief or love; but flowery inscriptions belong to the past and since there are no words that can adequately express the grief of a sorrowing family for one who has died it is perhaps best not to attempt it. the hour at which the interment is to take place is appointed to suit the convenience of the family. in cities where a multiplicity of duties makes attendance in the daytime difficult it is customary to have evening services, but under all other circumstances the funeral is scheduled to take place during the day. mourning dress grief turns instinctively to the somber garments of mourning for the slight measure of comfort which they give, but modern ideas of enlightened civilization look with disfavor on long crêpe veils and any other form of mourning that is so pronounced as to be ostentatious. black is very depressing, especially to young children, and a mother, however deep her sorrow because of the death of one of her children should keep this in mind and should, at any rate, not wear black every day. if she likes she may wear mourning when she leaves the house. it is a sort of protection, for strangers and thoughtless friends will not be so likely to make remarks that will wound, if they have the black dress to remind them of the bereavement which the mother has suffered. under any other circumstances the wearing of colors at home and black abroad is a form of hypocrisy, and is, of course, to be deplored. black fabrics for mourning should not have a shiny finish nor should they be trimmed except in the simplest way possible. serge, cloth, duvetyn, canton crêpe, pongee, chiffon, and georgette are appropriate but one should avoid velvets and most fur trimmings. the most suitable furs are plain black seal, fox, lynx, etc., though others may be worn. bright linings are not permissible. a woman in mourning does not wear jewelry aside from the wedding and engagement rings. dull bar pins may be used whenever needed and a brooch, plain or set with pearl, may be worn. dress accessories should be of dull black, purse, gloves, etc. handkerchiefs may have a black border or they may be pure white. the length of the mourning period depends upon the tie which existed between the deceased and the bereaved. except for an elderly woman whose husband has died and who never intends taking off black the longest period is usually two years, the first in deep mourning, the next in "second mourning" during which time gray, lavender, purple and black-and-white may be worn. this may be shortened at discretion to six months of deep mourning followed by six months of semi-mourning or three months of deep mourning and six of half mourning. the change from black to colors should never be so abrupt as to be startling. a girl does not wear mourning for her fiancé except under extenuating circumstances. if he died on the eve of the wedding it is permissible but if the date for the wedding had not been set or if the engagement had not been announced it is questionable form for her to go into mourning for him. it is a very delicate matter and the final court of appeals is the young lady herself. but she should remember that the garments of mourning are after all only a symbol of grief and she should hesitate a long time before assuming them. her mourning outfit is like that of a widow and she wears it for the same length of time. children should never wear black. upon the death of a parent they may wear white perhaps relieved by lavender for six months or so. they do not use mourning stationery and they do not carry black bordered handkerchiefs. a girl fifteen or sixteen may wear delicate grays, lavenders, and mixed goods as well as white, but she should not wear black. there is no iron-clad rule concerning mourning, and one may or may not wear it. even a widow, a daughter, or a mother is under no compulsion to do so, though to appear in bright colors shortly after the death of a beloved one is certainly an evidence of bad taste. mourning dress for men the mourning outfit for men is not so pronounced as that for women. a black suit with dull black shoes, black gloves and white linen constitutes first mourning. many men use only the black band around the coat sleeve. the custom grew out of the english practice of having the servants wear the black band in households that could not afford a complete mourning outfit, and for this reason has met with disfavor among the fastidious in this country. it has this much in its favor: it accomplishes the purpose of full mourning with the added virtue of economy, and when one's life has to be conducted on a frugal scale it is better to wear the simple black band than to spend one's substance foolishly for mourning. a widower wears mourning for a year or a year and a half while a man grieving for some other relative than his wife may wear mourning a year or six months as he prefers. first mourning consists of a suit of black with white linen, and dull accessories such as shoes, gloves, cuff links, etc. the hat may have a crêpe border but it should not be a very wide one. for second mourning his suit is of gray or black, with gray gloves, white linen, etc. men should never carry black bordered handkerchiefs. a man wears mourning for a wife, a child, a parent, or a brother or sister the length of time depending upon the strength of the bond which held them together. mourning stationery white stationery of a good quality is correct for _all_ occasions and mourning is no exception. that which has a narrow black border is good but a border nearly an inch wide is in bad taste. after three months have passed gray stationery is permissible. since there are no formal invitations issued during the period of mourning there are no special forms for them. there are, however, in addition to the regular mourning stationery cards acknowledging expressions of sympathy. these may be had from any up-to-date stationer's. they may or may not have the black border. the following is an example of such a card: _mr. and mrs. n. c. graham thank you for your kind expression of sympathy during their recent bereavement._ the visiting card may have an unobtrusive border of black. the border on this and on the stationery may be lessened from time to time during the period of mourning or it may remain the same until it is discarded altogether. chapter viii christenings announcing the birth of the child when a child is born the mother and father announce the fact to their friends by means of cards. these may be obtained in the prevailing style from any good stationer. sometimes only one card is sent bearing the names of the parents and that of the child or the word, "son" or "daughter" if the name has not been decided upon. another fashion which has become standard is the use of two cards, one somewhat larger than the ordinary visiting card and attached to it by a tiny white ribbon one very much smaller bearing the name of the infant. there are also dainty and attractive cards specially designed for the occasion. while these are not so formal as the plain white cards they are, when chosen with discrimination, very delightful and almost as personal as a note. notes are usually sent only to one's most intimate friends. responding to the announcement friends of the parents will, of course, hasten to congratulate them upon their good fortune. they may send flowers, magazines, jellies, etc., to the mother and to the youngster some little article pleasing because of its beauty or its utility. gifts are not necessary, however, and a warm and sincere note expressing one's happiness at the good fortune of the parents is quite sufficient. the note _must not be perfunctory_. you must remember that the child of your friend is the most wonderful infant that ever came to earth to live (and if your private opinion is to the contrary it is best to keep it private), and that conventional phrases are entirely inadequate. on the other hand it will not do to gush. simplicity and sincerity are the best means to attain the end desired. godparents in the old world the selection of godparents is a very important duty and the office of the godfather and the godmother is actual rather than theoretical; but in this country it has a tendency to become a mere form. this should not be the case, for it is a high tribute to a friend to ask him to be the godfather of one's child and it is often an excellent thing for the child. it assures him at least one friend older than himself who has a very special interest in his welfare. there may be four sponsors, or two, as one chooses, but in america there are usually only two, a godfather and a godmother. whenever possible they should be asked in person and they should never be asked through a formally engraved card. for the sponsors are always intimate friends of the mother and father or relatives for whom they feel the highest regard. it is the interest of the child that is at stake and this should be taken into consideration by the parents before they make their final selection. the duties of the godparents are not onerous. they promise always to befriend the child and at the time of the christening they present it with a gift of some sort--jewelry, garments, carriage or toilette accessories. they are present at the baptism, if possible, and accompany the mother and father to the altar. the father and godfather have little to do beyond lending the grace of their presence to the occasion. the godmother carries the infant to the altar, resplendent in his christening robe, and at the proper time hands it to the clergyman. if there are no sponsors the office of the godmother at the church may be filled by the baby's nurse or by the mother herself. invitations to a christening the christening is rarely an elaborate affair and the only guests are relatives and close friends. if it is not too much of a tax on the mother it is very lovely for her to write personal notes to each guest asking him or her to be present at the ceremony. if there is to be a considerable number present engraved cards may be dispatched. examples of both the formal and the informal invitation are given below: _june , --_ _my dear grace_, _the baby is to be christened next sunday at four o'clock at the brick church and both harry and i are anxious to have you present. i think harry jr. would be also if he were old enough to know what it is all about._ _cordially yours,_ _alice f. duncan._ _mr. and mrs. harry t. duncan request the pleasure of your company at the christening of their son on sunday afternoon, june at four o'clock at the brick church_ a church christening if the christening is to be an occasion of great formality and elaboration the church should be decorated, not elaborately as for a wedding but simply and prettily with smilax and ferns and delicate white flowers or in some other way that will indicate that the event is for a child and not for an older person. the child's christening robe should be simple but exquisite. he may be brought in more gracefully if he is carried on a pillow or a _porte-bébé_. the mother usually wears a reception gown, hat, and gloves. the women sponsors are similarly dressed while the masculine guests wear the prescribed outfit for afternoon receptions, the cutaway coat, etc., unless the christening takes place in the summer when light flannels may be substituted. the house christening there is very little difference between a christening that takes place at home and one at church. the house should be decorated and a font may be placed in the drawing-room. the mother's gown is less formal than the one she would wear to the church but the other details are practically the same. after the baptism after the ceremony is over and the youngster has been duly admired and sent back to the nursery, there may be a reception or tea or even a dinner or breakfast, according to the time of the christening, for the guests. if the baptism took place at church the guests may drive immediately from there to the home, allowing the automobile containing the mother and father to precede them by a few minutes. if it took place at home matters are simplified, for the guests may pass into another room or the font may be placed to one side. if there is a breakfast or luncheon served the clergyman who performed the ceremony is invited to be present, and whether or not it is customary to ask a blessing he is requested to pronounce one. he enters the dining-room with the child's grandmother, or if both grandmothers are present, with the elder. gifts each person who is invited to the christening is expected to remember the infant with a gift of some sort. in view of the fact that there is usually nothing that he needs and that he is too young to appreciate anything, many people give for the future rather than for the present. sometimes a friend of the mother will give the infant daughter a silver spoon, adding duplicates each year after on its birthday or at christmas until they form a complete set. books which he will appreciate later may be given. money in the form of gold pieces or checks is most appropriate and is one of the most popular of gifts. carriage and toilette accessories, jewelry, etc., are, of course, suitable but one should make sure that there is an actual need for them. most people nowadays live in a limited amount of space with neither a garret nor a cellar to store things in. part ii "_politeness itself is always the same. the rules of etiquette which are merely the forms in which it finds expression, vary with time and place. a sincere regard for the rights of others, in the smallest matters as well as the largest; genuine kindness of heart; good taste and self command, which are the foundations of good manners, are never out of fashion._" --_samuel r. wells._ chapter i introductions purpose of the introduction the days of gallant cavaliers and courteous knights who bowed profusely and doffed their feathered hats to the very ground when introduced to ladies of the court are over. to-day, simplicity is the keynote in introductions--as in everything else. but the significance of those charming introductions of yore remains. we find that the introduction of to-day is still made and acknowledged with a certain measured grace and courtesy of manner. what it lacks in old-time picturesque gallantry it gains in a new friendliness that is in accord with whole-hearted warmth for which the americans are famous. every day, in the social and business worlds alike, there is the constant need of introducing people correctly. but the correct introduction does not consist merely of making two strangers known to each other--perhaps just temporarily. to create an immediate friendliness between two people who have met for the first time, to do away with all hesitancy and embarrassment, to create smooth and pleasant conversation, to make the strangers want to continue their acquaintance--that is the purpose of the correct introduction. and its achievement rests entirely with the man or woman who is the medium of introduction. a great many people have the mistaken impression that an introduction is meant solely to make two people known to each other for the short time that they are in company together. the correct introduction helps to create friendship--the kind of friendship that lasts. it is not enough to exchange names. it is not enough to present one person to another, and then forget about it completely. the adroit introducer draws the strangers into conversation at once, and leads casually into channels that he, or she, knows are of interest to both. to introduce people correctly is an art in itself, and like any other art, it requires constant study and practice before one becomes adept. creating conversation we have mentioned conversation as being an ideal means of establishing immediate understanding between two strangers--or between a stranger and a group of guests. let us consider first the best means to employ in creating conversation between two persons who have just been introduced. elaborate manner should be avoided. simple words and phraseology are always most effective, especially when one's manner and tone are sincere. brevity is also a virtue to be developed in introducing people. if a scientist and a student meet in your home for the first time, the student is presented to the older man. the host or hostess might introduce them in this manner: "mr. rogers, let me present mr. brown, who is making a study of social science at pennsylvania university." naturally, an introduction of this kind would lead directly into a discussion on science--and both men would feel entirely at ease in each other's company. in introducing a gentleman to a lady, the same rule of mutual interest for creating conversation holds true. the hostess might say, "miss murray, allow me to present mr. smith, who stopped at the palms last summer just before you arrived." of course, the young people would immediately have something to talk about, and there would be no strained feeling of the sort that usually follows in the wake of a poor introduction. or, if mr. smith is an author, and miss murray is very fond of reading, the hostess would say, "miss murray, i'm sure you will be pleased to meet mr. smith, who writes such charming fiction. you remember how much we enjoyed 'the rose garden.'" a great deal depends upon the strangers themselves, whether or not conversation will move forward, but the hostess who has introduced them skilfully has certainly given them a pleasant opening. when to introduce "to introduce or not to introduce?" has often puzzled men and women of better society. it requires infinite tact, and also a certain keen knowledge of the world, to determine just whom one should and one should not introduce to one's friends. this does not refer to home or private entertainments where everyone is an invited guest. in this case, the host and hostess make whatever introductions they deem necessary, being sure that a stranger is carefully presented to each guest. when the reception is a large one--a ball, for instance--the roof may serve as an introduction; that is, the guests may take it for granted that everyone present, being an invited guest, has already the endorsement of the hostess. thus they may address and converse with anyone they choose, without trespassing any laws of good conduct. if a lady passes two gentlemen, one of whom she knows, both raise their hats and greet her, but no introductions are made. if he stops for a moment--and it must be only for a very brief moment--he does not present his companion. street introductions are bad form unless the little group joins forces and walks on together. in the business world, introductions are made whenever a mutual acquaintance or friend is present. business introductions are governed very largely by diplomacy, although the gentleman will make sure that his business introduction is just as courteous and graceful as his social introduction. granting that all your friends and acquaintances are of the very best society, it is quite safe to say that you may introduce two people to each other, or a group of people to one another, whenever you chance to be a mutual friend. whether or not the acquaintanceship continues depends entirely upon the people who have been introduced. it is certainly better form to introduce two people, even though you are in doubt as to their similarity of character and personality, than to have one of your friends--or several of them--feel slighted. there are few things more unkind and discourteous than to neglect introducing strangers to each other. importance of care an awkward or haphazard introduction can not be effective. a common fault seems to be to mumble hurriedly over names--a very bad fault, indeed, as it leaves the strangers in ignorance as to each other's identity. names should be pronounced carefully and distinctly, leaving no doubt whatever in the minds of those who are being presented to each other. to slur over names in haste or embarrassment, is to create a strained and uncomfortable atmosphere. as in everything else in good society, ostentation is extremely vulgar. deep bows, flourishes, and forced phrases have no place in the right sort of presentations. brief, simple introductions, with a note of sincere cordiality, are certainly more impressive than much elaborate waving of hands and bowing. special introductions it is, of course, an established rule that a man should always be presented to a lady. but the rule does not hold true when a lady is presented to some gentleman of exceptionally high and distinguished position. thus, if a lady is presented to the president of the united states, or to an ex-president, or prince, duke, or archduke, the gentleman's name is mentioned first. another exception to the rule is when unmarried ladies are presented to important members of the clergy, such as the bishop or archbishop; here also the gentleman's name is mentioned first. there is only one great exception to the rule that all unmarried women are presented to matrons: all women, no matter whether they are young unmarried women or elderly matrons, are introduced _to_ the wife of the president of the united states. there are several exceptions to the rule that all young and unmarried men be presented to older men. first, there is the president of the united states, to whom all men, young and old, are presented. similarly, a host in his own home is always mentioned first. a member of a royal and reigning family is never presented to anyone unless it is someone of higher royalty; all introductions are made to him. a guest of honor at an entertainment is also given the distinction of having all guests presented to him. when the name isn't heard it very often happens, in making introductions, that one does not quite understand the name murmured by the one who is making the introduction. there is absolutely no reason to become flustered and embarrassed. simply smile or nod in acknowledgment, and say, "i beg your pardon, i did not catch your name." or one might say, "i am sorry, but i did not catch the name." profuse apologies are not good form; in fact, they are entirely out of place, for the fault lies completely with the man or woman who has made the introduction. address yourself to the stranger, when you wish the name to be repeated, and make your request simply, directly and with calm dignity. do not show either by haste or embarrassment that you are ill at ease because the name escaped you. many times it is the fault of the people who are being introduced that they do not understand the names. they do not listen for them. it is one of the secrets of social success, if there can be anything secret about a thing so obvious, to be able to remember names correctly. people in business realize this and salesmen devote special time to training themselves to remember the names of their customers. a very bad fault is to attempt to guess at a name when it is not heard distinctly. it is perfectly correct to ask: "did mrs. roberts call you miss gray?" but never address the young lady as miss gray if you have the least doubt as to whether or not that was the name given. her name may be graham, or grayerson! it is much wiser to ask and be correct, than to guess and be corrected. the correct introduction let us now consider the correct forms for the general introduction. for all ordinary occasions the simple form, "mrs. johns, let me present mr. brown," is the best. because it is brief, direct and simple it may be used effectively on almost any occasion. in introducing men to women, the woman's name is invariably spoken first, and the gentleman is presented to her. several phrases that are quite generally used in social circles are: "mrs. a, allow me to introduce mr. b," or "mrs. a, mr. b wishes to be presented to you," or "mrs. a, may i present mr. b?" such phrases as "let me make you acquainted with" and "i want you to shake hands with" are awkward and altogether too casual. they should never be used. when there is a great difference in the ages of two women, the younger is presented to the elder. thus, if mrs. brown is an elderly matron, and mrs. smith is a recent bride, one would say: "mrs. brown, let me present mrs. smith." an unmarried woman is always presented to a matron in this manner: "mrs. brown, may i present miss jones?" or "mrs. brown, this is miss jones." when it is hard to decide which of two married women is older, one may give due reference to both by introducing in this most satisfactory manner: "mrs. brown, let me present mrs. smith; mrs. smith, mrs. brown." similar distinctions are made in the introducing of two gentlemen. where there is no difference in age, title or dignity, the introduction may be merely: "mr. white, mr. jones." a young man is presented to an older man, a bachelor to a married man. however, if the bachelor is a venerable old gentleman, a married man is presented to him, in deference to his age. citizens without official distinction are invariably presented to senators, judges, governors, etc. when introducing a friend to one's parents it is correct to say, "mother, may i present miss smith?" or "mother, this is mr. jones." the friend is always introduced to the mother first, then to the father. other relatives are introduced in the order of their age and position in the family. in presenting a relative whose name is the same as your own it is unnecessary to repeat the name. for instance, "miss daniels, do you know my sister, mildred?" or "miss daniels, may i present my brother, harry?" if the name is different particular pains should be taken to pronounce it. "miss daniels, this is my sister, mrs. graham." or, "miss daniels, may i present my brother, mr. franklin?" group introductions it is considered bad form to interrupt a conversation to introduce a newcomer. always wait until the conversation has subsided before you venture to present a stranger to a group of people. the best way to introduce a gentleman to a group of guests is to mention the names only, in this manner: "mr. jones--miss smith, miss roberts, mr. frank and mr. brown." or one might say, "mr. jones, let me introduce you to----" and then give the names of the guests in the group, being sure to mention the ladies first. a lady is introduced to a group of people in the same manner. it is indicative of bad taste to conduct a young lady around a large room and introduce her individually to each stranger. gentlemen should always be taken to her to be presented to her. it is only when the young lady is a _débutante_ or a youthful member of society that she is conducted across a room to be presented to some elderly dowager or to the guest of honor. it is inconsiderate to present any one person to a great number of others all at once. it is not only embarrassing but the task of remembering anyone of the people introduced is hopeless. the chance introduction before we go any further in the correct forms for introductions, we will offer a word of caution that should be carefully heeded. never introduce people to each other unless you are quite certain that it will be agreeable to both. for instance, if two young women of your acquaintance have been attending the same church for several years and yet do not greet or recognize each other, it may be assumed that they have a reason for remaining strangers. in such a case, an introduction could only be painful to both. an introduction is not merely a trivial convention--a duty that must be attended to. it is an important ceremony, the very corner-stone of friendship. to be formally introduced is to have a certain demand on one's future good graces and friendliness. thus, it is bad taste to introduce rashly and indiscriminately. assuming that you have no reason to believe that they do not wish to know each other, this is the best form to employ in introducing two young women, both of whom you meet at the same time: "miss jones, miss smith." this form should invariably be used in making public introductions, at church, the theater, the opera, etc. if the name of one of the young women has been forgotten, one may say, "i'm afraid i have forgotten your name," or "forgive me, but i cannot recall your name just now." as soon as the required information is given, the introduction may proceed as above. incomplete introductions some careless hostesses neglect to complete introductions. this causes embarrassment for both, or all, people concerned, and reflects discreditably on the hostess. who has not heard the otherwise charming hostess greet a friend cordially in this manner: "oh, how-do-you-do, my dear! let me introduce mrs. allen, mrs. baker and mr. carter." the young person who has just arrived can hardly avoid feeling a bit confused, and perhaps a bit slighted. and the people to whom this introduction was made will certainly feel embarrassed when they meet the stranger again and must ask his or her name. another type of incomplete introduction is to draw two strangers into conversation by saying casually: "mrs. roberts, mrs. jones was at the opera last night and heard the same pianist you heard two weeks ago." this is hardly sufficient. the remark should have been either preceded or followed by a _bona fide_ introduction, though the smile and bow of the hostess as she speaks may be so cordial as to remove whatever feeling of constraint there might have been. the incomplete introduction is careless and unkind. the hostess is unfair to her guests if she does not make each introduction definite and formal, if she does not pronounce clearly the names of both people to be presented to each other. indirect introductions the indirect introduction is entirely different from the incomplete introduction. the former is often necessary and purposely resorted to; the latter is invariably a mistake or the result of carelessness. when it is desirable to draw another into conversation, then the hostess may make an indirect introduction to avoid stiffness and constraint. thus, while conversing with one guest, she may turn to another and say: "mrs. blank, mrs. smith was just telling us about the famous picture that was brought recently to america. have you seen it?" the purpose of the hostess will be achieved, for the guest addressed will join the conversation, although there has been no formal introduction. when two people are brought together in this manner, the question of whether or not they continue their acquaintanceship depends entirely upon themselves. in taking leave of each other, women who have been only semi-introduced may nod or shake hands as they please. it is not necessary to seek out a woman to whom one has been indirectly introduced in order to take leave of her. if the semi-introduction is between a man and woman, the woman must either nod first, or offer her hand first, in leave-taking. it is the sign of her willingness to be formally introduced. the acknowledgment a courteous acknowledgment is essential to every introduction. it is not enough to chant a stilted phrase each time the hostess presents you to a stranger. parrot-like repetition will make you appear dull and ordinary. but to make gracious, cordial acknowledgments is to gain the immediate sympathy and friendliness of those to whom you have been introduced. the stiff formal bow is quickly losing all its prestige in the best social circles. in its place is the warm, cordial handclasp, or the friendly smile and inclination of the head. the bow is only acceptable when a stranger is presented to a group of guests. and even then it should consist merely of a nod and genial smile that includes the entire company. a hostess rises to receive all introductions, and offers her hand both to men and women. but a woman guest retains her place when introduced to a gentleman, or when she is one of a group to whom a woman guest is presented. however, if the stranger is introduced to her individually, she rises in acknowledgment. other occasions that require the woman of culture to rise are when she is being introduced to the hostess, to an elderly or distinguished gentleman, to a guest of honor, or to an elderly woman. a gentleman invariably stands when introduced. if the introduction takes place out of doors, he is expected to lift his hat and bow slightly. when introduced to a lady, he must wait until she takes the initiative in offering him her hand. if she does not offer her hand in acknowledgment of the introduction, he may merely nod, lift his hat, and offer a word or two of gracious pleasure at having been introduced to her. forms of acknowledgment the hostess extends her hand and says cordially, "i am delighted to know you mrs. brown," or, "mrs. brown, i am most pleased to meet you." "how do you do, mrs. brown," is used a great deal. on being presented to a lady, a gentleman might say, "delighted to know you, miss jones," or "miss jones, i am very glad indeed to meet you." the correct form to use when one man is introduced to another is usually, "how do you do?" although a great many men like to use the expression, "i'm very glad to meet you." a young woman introduced to a matron might say, "this is a pleasure indeed, mrs. rogers." a gentleman might acknowledge an introduction to a lady by saying, "i am pleased to know you, mrs. jones," or simply, "how do you do, mrs. jones?" it is not so much a question of what is said as of how it is said. it happens, sometimes, that a hostess unknowingly will introduce to each other two men, or two women, who have long been on unfriendly terms. to ignore each other completely under such circumstances would be a breach of good conduct, and an embarrassment to everyone concerned. it is certainly wiser, if not more agreeable, to nod as though one were a stranger, and later tactfully avoid the man or woman whose company you do not wish to share. the acknowledgment to an introduction is important. it is the first impression the stranger gains of you, and it is your duty to make it a good--and lasting one. it is always best to repeat the name--in fact, the repeating of the name is all that is necessary--since it gives an opportunity for correction if the person to whom the introduction was made misunderstood it. for example, when the hostess says, "mrs. davis, let me present mrs. raymond," the ladies may bow politely, each murmuring the name of the other. future recognition of introduction with introductions made as hurriedly and haphazardly as they are to-day, at large receptions and balls, it is often puzzling to determine whether or not one should greet a certain new acquaintance at the next meeting. there are certain definite rules that may be followed with confidence. it is important to remember that the first intimation of recognition after an introduction must always come from the lady. a gentleman does not offer his hand, nor does he bow or nod to the lady he has met only once before until she has made the first movement. the privilege of continuing or ending the acquaintanceship rests with her. as a general rule, one bows to all those whom one has met at dinner, luncheon or breakfast. it is also usual to greet those with whom one may have drunk tea at a reception, and with whom one may have played a game of tennis or golf. incomplete introductions require no future recognition, unless the people introduced desire to cultivate a friendship. if two people are presented to each other for the second time, polite acknowledgment must be made. it is not necessary, though often it is pleasant, to recall a former introduction, especially if one feels sure that the other will have no difficulty in recollecting the occasion. it is the duty of the gentleman to recall a previous introduction. he may say, "i think i have had the pleasure of meeting miss stone last week," or, "miss stone and i have already been introduced." if two ladies are presented to each other for the second time, the younger or unmarried one incurs the duty of recalling the first introduction. "i have already met mrs. jessup," is a form that may be used on any occasion. introducing at dinner at a formal or informal dinner, the host and hostess must make all guests known to one another before leading the company to the table. it is neither graceful nor good form to introduce after the guests are seated. the secret of correct introduction at dinner is to avoid all obvious efforts to present certain guests to one another. for instance, it is not the best form to interrupt a conversation and draw a young man to another part of the room to present him to a young lady. nor is it necessary for the hostess to incommode herself by rising, during the course of the dinner, to greet a late-comer and make him known to the other guests. she may merely nod to him, accept his excuse for tardiness with a gracious smile or word of welcome, and retain all introductions until later in the evening when the guests have assembled in the drawing-room. sometimes, at a very large formal dinner, it is not possible for the host and hostess to introduce every guest. in this case it is necessary to introduce only the gentlemen and ladies who are to go in together to table. later, when the ladies gather in the drawing-room, the clever hostess will contrive to make all her guests known to each other; and when the gentlemen join them after their cigars, both host and hostess may adroitly conclude the introductions. however, it is also good form for the host to make his complete introductions while the gentlemen are having their after-dinner smoke and chat, and for the hostess to make her introductions in the drawing-room among the ladies. the gentlemen may then be presented to the ladies during the course of the evening. if there is a distinguished guest, or a guest of honor, for whom the dinner is given, all guests must be presented to him at some time during the evening. if the introductions cannot be completely achieved before dinner, the host and hostess may continue them when the guests reassemble in the drawing-room. introducing at the dance when a ball or dance is given in honor of a _débutante_ daughter, or in honor of a visiting guest, the hostess, on receiving her guests, presents them to the honored person who stands at her side. during the course of the dance itself, the host and hostess, as well as the members of their family, make all the introductions they can without inconveniencing either their guests or themselves. at a private dance the host and hostess must constantly contrive to present gentlemen to ladies, so that there will always be new partners for each dance. if it is a very small dance, the strictly formal introduction is rarely performed; the girls introduce their partners to their particular friends, and the young men present their friends to their partners without asking permission to do so. at a very large, formal ball or dance, it is good form to ask permission of a lady before presenting a gentleman to her. it is certainly the safest and most satisfactory way, and reflects good taste and courtesy both on the part of the gentleman who wishes to be introduced and the gentleman who is the medium of introduction. the gentleman who escorts a lady to a dance has a very distinct duty with regard to introductions. he must present to her, at various intervals during the dance, as many of his masculine friends as he feels she would welcome as partners. at a public ball, he invariably asks her permission to make these introductions, as he does also at a very large formal ball. but if the young lady is a friend of long standing, and his own comrades personal friends for whom he can vouch, it is not necessary to request formally the lady's permission before making the introductions. at public balls, the reception committee presents each guest to the guest of honor. if there is no guest of honor, the committee merely welcomes the guests, and leaves the duty of introduction to chaperons and escorts. patronesses and reception committees are not obligated in any way to make introductions at subscriptions or public balls, though it often helps to make the affair more pleasant when they take part in presentations. introducing at receptions the hostess of an afternoon or evening reception presents each guest who arrives to the guest of honor or _débutante_ daughter, who stands at her side and receives with her. she may not leave her post at the door to make introductions, but she may present as many guests to one another as is possible without leaving her place. the wise hostess always has several feminine members of her family to assist her in making guests known to one another. these young women may introduce any strangers in the company. the ladies in charge of the refreshments in the dining room may also speak without introduction to guests of either sex, in order to offer tea, chocolate or bonbons. they are privileged to make introductions whenever it is in their power to do so. a committee is usually appointed to receive the guests at a public reception. the committee, or part of it, stands by the door to receive each guest formally, and introductions are made merely by having a liveried servant announce the name in a loud, clear voice. the guest bows to the committee, and considers himself introduced. then the committee may be addressed by the stranger who desires further introductions to other guests. it is important, at these public receptions that the committee in charge perform as nearly as possible the duty of host and hostess. speaking without introduction some people who pride themselves upon being well-bred make themselves appear actually ludicrous by being highly indignant when addressed by someone to whom they have not been introduced. surely in this world of good-fellowship and open-hearted friendliness it is ridiculous to seal one's mouth and be aloof, merely because one has not been formally presented! there is, for instance, the gentleman one sits next to on the steamer deck. a lady, of course, may not on any condition address a gentleman whom she does not know, nor may a gentleman address a lady who is a stranger to him. but when two men are sitting side-by-side on a steamer deck, both glorying in the solemn dignity of the sea, and the wide expanse of sky, it would be petty indeed to refrain from conversation. if a friendship is to be developed later, a formal introduction may be sought; but for the present, though they have never been presented to each other, the men may enjoy a conversation without feeling that they are trespassing beyond the boundaries of etiquette. similarly, the lady traveling across country may comment upon the splendid open stretches of country, the hazy impressiveness of the mountains in the distance and the surprising beauty of the train's smoke against the azure sky, to the lady sitting opposite her, even though they have never been introduced. and they may carry on quite a delightful conversation without being formally presented to each other. there can be nothing quite as shallow as refusing to answer, or answering coldly, the person who addresses you in a spirit of friendliness, merely because there have been no formal introductions. one must have vision enough to see that what is correct in the ballroom would be strained and narrow in the shadow of the huge mountains where men and women of every social standing gather to enjoy the same glorious bigness of things. introducing children it is important for children to be taught early the significance and value of formal introductions. but parents must carefully avoid all suggestion of snobbishness in their young sons and daughters. there is an amusing story related of a certain little english lad who was visiting in america with his father, who happened to be a member of the house of lords. the youngster had a well developed case of snobbishness. at an afternoon reception given in honor of his father, the boy was introduced to several young americans, invited especially for his benefit. during the course of the afternoon, the hostess noticed that he was sitting off to one side, avoiding the other young guests. when she spoke to him about it, and asked him why he didn't join the other young people, he remarked stiffly: "in england, the son of a member of the house of lords does not associate with commoners!" while the father crimsoned, the little american guests laughed in amusement. and a newspaper correspondent who was present enjoyed the humor of the situation so keenly that he devoted a whole column to it. a well-bred child introduces his or her small friend to older persons by saying, "mrs. thompson, this is my sister ray," or, "mother, may i present my schoolmate, bob, to you?" children should be taught not to use stilted, unnatural phrases. their introductions should be easy and natural. a child introducing his young cousin to a friend would say, "bob, this is my cousin, ralph." when introduced to an adult, the properly trained child waits for the elder to speak first. if some expression of pleasure at the meeting is made, the child may say, "thank you, mrs. anderson." a parent would introduce her daughter in this manner: "mrs. brown, this is my little daughter anne," or, "mrs. brown, my boy john wishes to be presented to you." children should be introduced to each other in a casual way for strained introductions cause them to feel ill at ease in one another's company. "harry, this is john brown. i am sure you will enjoy hearing all about his new pony," or, "mary, bob wants to tell you about something funny that happened at school the other day." the simple expression, "how do you do," is always best for children who are acknowledging introductions. cordiality in introductions with the passing of the ridiculous half-finger handshake, with the arm extended upward and the wrist bent awkwardly, introductions have become more cordial and sincere. which is entirely as it should be. too many people go through the ceremony of an introduction merely as a matter of duty, without realizing its portent in the matter of friendship and future acquaintance. we have all met the man or woman who nods stiffly in acknowledgment of an introduction, and offers some stereotyped expression of welcome. and we have all met the man or woman who smiles warmly, offers a sincere handclasp, and acknowledges the introduction so cordially that one feels entirely at ease. in the latter case, a brief acquaintance usually ripens into friendship, while in the former instance, one is inclined to forget promptly the one to whom the introduction has been made. the next time you are introduced to a stranger, smile sincerely, make your handclasp warm and firm, put cordiality into your welcome and see how your new acquaintance responds! the correct introduction alone is not the corner-stone of friendship; but the correct introduction that is also cordial opens the door to friendships that perhaps are sealed to every other effort. whether you are making an introduction or acknowledging one, be sure that it is both correct and cordial. chapter ii letters of introduction the letter of introduction letters of introduction should be drawn only on relatives, or on very close friends. it is not considered entirely ethical to introduce by a letter an individual of whom the writer knows very little, or toward whom the writer is not especially friendly. it is also scarcely good form to ask for a letter of introduction; the truly cultured person will depend upon the kind impulses of a friend or relative to recognize the need for such presentation. care should be exerted in the issuing of these letters. some people, because they have not sufficient willpower to refuse a direct request, will issue such a letter to a person whom they hardly know, and for whose character they cannot vouch. thus they are forced to send a private letter to the person to whom the letter of introduction is addressed, explaining that the stranger is really not very well known to them, and that perhaps the hostess had better find out more about him, or her. this always causes an embarrassing and uncomfortable situation; it is always better to refuse frankly, unless one knows the man or woman and is willing to endorse him heartily and sincerely. a letter of introduction should be brief, concise and free from matters of personal or private interest. if the bearer of the letter is in mourning, or has suffered some recent grief or loss, or if he is the victim of unhappy circumstances or peculiar prejudices, a private letter should be sent to the person to whom the letter is addressed, explaining the situation. this does not hold true when the stranger has some special mission to perform; in this case, the explanation is written directly in the original letter of introduction. a note of introduction rarely covers more than a page or a page and a half of medium-size note paper, and it should be confined strictly to the presentation of the person in whose behalf it is written. nothing irrelevant, such as inquiry regarding the health of certain people of mutual acquaintance, or of domestic interest, should be included. the letter is placed in an unsealed envelope. presenting the letter usually letters of introduction are not presented in person, but sent with the card of the man or woman to be introduced. this relieves the ceremony of that awkwardness which usually follows when someone presents a letter of introduction and waits while it is being read. if one does not wish to send it through the mails, the letter may be left with one's card at the door of the one to whom it is addressed. when the letter of introduction is from a gentleman to a lady, or rather when the letter introduces a gentleman to a lady, he invariably calls in the afternoon and sends up the letter with his card. if the lady is not at home, he may slip the card into the same envelope as the letter, and leave it with the servant to be delivered. a gentleman also calls to present a letter of introduction to a member of his own sex. a woman who wishes to present a letter of introduction to another woman, calls personally and leaves the letter with her own card, or slips her card into the envelope, seals it, and sends it through the mails. either method of presentation is correct. however, when the letter is addressed to a gentleman, she does not call, unless it is some very special and unusual occasion, but trusts the letter to the mails for safe delivery. acknowledging a letter of introduction a letter of introduction requires immediate recognition in some form. either a call or an invitation should be made within three or four days. if it is impossible to honor a letter of introduction by the usual form of visiting or entertaining then it is absolutely essential that a prompt and adequate explanation should be written to the author and bearer of the letter. ordinarily, when the bearer of a letter of introduction is a woman, a call is made within three days. this call is followed by the offer of some hospitality, usually a luncheon or tea. a gentleman calls upon a lady or upon another gentleman as soon as he receives a letter of introduction. but a lady, instead of making a call, sends an invitation to the gentleman who is introduced to her by means of a letter. any delay in acknowledging a letter of introduction is uncivil, both to the person who wrote the letter and the one being introduced. if one is invalided, a short note should be written explaining why a call cannot be made, and arranging for a meeting as early as circumstances permit. but to wait a week or two before acknowledging a letter of introduction, and then writing to explain, is to show lack of good breeding and ignorance of the laws of good conduct. it is a mark of courtesy to write to the person who brought about the acquaintance with a new friend by means of a letter of introduction, thanking him or her for the note that inspired the friendship. model letters of introduction a letter of introduction should be simple and to the point. it should also be friendly, cordial and explanatory. it is placed in a single envelope, unsealed, with the full name and address of the person to whom the bearer is introduced. here are some letters that are offered merely as suggestions. of course they may be changed and added to, to meet certain conditions: _new haven, conn., march , --_ _my dear mrs. brown:_ _this will introduce to you miss rose johnson of camden, new jersey, who intends staying in your charming city during december and january._ _i have known miss johnson for three years, and feel sure that you will find pleasure in her company._ _with warmest personal regards, i am_ _sincerely yours,_ _margaret f. dowe._ _new york, n.y., april , --_ _dear travers:_ _the bearer of this note, mr. robert duncan, of chicago, plans to be in your town for two months. besides being a personal friend of mine, he is the advertising manager of the goodfield company in los angeles, and knowing as i do how interested you are in advertising, i feel that you would like to know him._ _you will find him good company everywhere, i think, for he not only talks entertainingly but he plays tennis and golf and bridge and plays them well. i hope that you will be able to help him enjoy his stay in madison._ _with kindest regards to mrs. travers, i am_ _cordially yours,_ _bob westely._ _baltimore, md., oct. , --_ _my dear mrs. rowell:_ _it gives me great pleasure to present to you mr. raymond gordon, the bearer of this note, with whom i have been associated in business and socially for many years. business takes him to baltimore, where he is an entire stranger. i will personally appreciate any kindness you may show him during his stay there._ _yours most sincerely,_ _robert s. balfour._ the card of introduction very often a card of introduction, instead of a letter, is issued. the letter is preferred in the case of special friends, as it conveys a certain courtesy that the strictly formal card lacks. yet the card is no less powerful an agent in soliciting and securing civilities for a man or woman in a strange town. its place is in the business rather than the social world, where often it is the means of securing an interview which it would be almost impossible to get without some kind of endorsement. the card of introduction consists merely of a visiting card with the name of the person to be introduced written above that of the sender. a card so prepared should be placed in a card envelope, left unsealed, and addressed to the person to whom the introduction is to be made. the words which appear at the top of the card are written also at the extreme bottom of the envelope, either below the address or in the left-hand corner. here is a typical visiting card, inscribed correctly with the name and address of the medium of introduction, and bearing the correct introduction above the name: _introducing miss rose m. roberts_ mr. charles hanson morton west th st. business introductions the man who values his good name among his business associates will not give letters of introduction indiscriminately. there are no special rules governing such letters in the business world beyond those of the social world. it is very annoying to a busy man to have to interrupt his work to make himself agreeable to all sorts and conditions of men who may come bearing missives which give them entrance. people should remember this in giving letters of introduction and should absolutely refuse unless they feel sure that something of mutual benefit may arise from the meeting. to give a letter of introduction for the same reason that one sometimes buys goods of a persistent agent--to get rid of him--is a very poor way out of the difficulty. it is permissible to ask for a letter of introduction to a business man if the person from whom it is requested is a good friend and the person who asks for it has an excellent reason for doing so. of course it is much better when the letter comes as a free-will offering, for there is no possibility of having to meet with a refusal. a refusal to grant a letter should not anger the person who asked for it, and the person who feels compelled to deny the request should give a courteous reason--there is usually such a reason--for doing so. chapter iii calls and calling customs the beginning of social calls the origin of the "social" call dates from the stone age, when the head of a family used to leave a roughly carved block of stone at the door of another, as an expression of good-will and friendship. the most marked development in calls and visiting is traced among the orientals, and especially the chinese. in china, even to-day, the social call is practically a sacred ceremony, and it is only the very lowest coolie who does not pay regular calls upon his friends and neighbors. it is contrary to the american ideal to develop or encourage highly complicated social ceremonies, and even the most formal call in this country to-day is simply a meeting of good friends. with the rush of modern life and the multitudinous opportunities which it offers for diversion and instruction there is a tendency to neglect one's social calls. it is a great pity, for nothing is quite so precious as one's friends, and was it not emerson who said, "go often to the house of thy friend for weeds choke the unused path"? when calls are made in the city, formal calls are made between four and six o'clock in the afternoon. morning calls are considered informal in the city; they are made only to transact business, or by special appointment. only a very intimate friend is privileged to call in the morning merely for social purposes. [illustration: © brown bros. an altar for a home wedding a similar plan of decoration may be used effectively in a much less pretentious home.] women rarely call in the evening, unless it is a friendly informal visit. men may make formal evening visits both in the city and country. in the city they may call as early as eight o'clock or as late as half-past nine. it is not in good taste to call very late in the evening, especially in the country where the retiring hour is early. it is perfectly correct for a woman who is at business during the day to pay her calls during the early part of the evening. morning calls in the country may be made between half-past ten and one o'clock. both men and women should observe these hours. it is only in the centers of formal and fashionable society, where luncheon is usually served at one o'clock that morning calls are reserved for occasions of business. when a call is paid for the purpose of condolence, or of inquiring after a sick friend, no special hour need be observed, as the caller rarely advances beyond the threshold of the front door. before calling on a friend in a hospital one should ascertain the hours during which visitors are allowed. the proper length of a call never prolong a call until it becomes a relief to depart--both for you and your hostess. this is not irrelevant, nor is it too severe. there are many people who do not know when to depart, and simply because they are afraid of leaving too early and offending the hostess, they prolong the visit unduly and depend upon gossip and forced conversation to pass the time. it is not good taste to make a call that lasts ten minutes; but it is certainly no better to make one that lasts three hours. when a first and formal call is paid, fifteen or twenty minutes is the usual time for exchanging civilities, and for making a graceful exit. the ordinary formal call may be extended from a quarter to three-quarters of an hour. a friendly call may be continued an hour, and sometimes an hour and a half. calls of inquiry, condolence and information should never be prolonged longer than is required to obtain the information required. calls of condolence should be made especially short, as it is a mark of inconsideration to force oneself on a hostess who is suffering a recent bereavement. the day at home calls should always be paid on the hostess' day at home, if possible. it is always more complimentary and considerate to observe a day at home than to call on an afternoon when the hostess does not expect you. in large cities and fashionable circles, it is customary for every hostess to issue at-home cards, giving the day and hour, or just the day, when she will be at home to visitors. these are issued to all her friends and acquaintances and they are expected to make their social calls, calls of congratulation, calls of appreciation--all calls except those that have to do with business--on that afternoon. sunday calls are now considered informal. in small towns and country neighborhoods they may be made after church or in the evening, but in large cities formal visits are rarely made on sunday. here again men (and business women) enjoy a special privilege; they may make their formal calls any afternoon or evening of the week, sunday not excepted. perhaps this is only fair, as the american man, and many of the american women, have their mornings and afternoons completely absorbed by the exactions of their business. dress for calls in making business calls a woman should wear street dress of the most simple and conservative type. for her social calls also she should wear street attire, but it need not be so severe as for business purposes. especially if she is to go by public conveyance she should be careful not to make herself conspicuous by her dress. the hostess is always more or less informally dressed unless her at home takes on the proportions of a reception, in which case she wears an elaborate reception gown. men seldom pay calls, and when they do, for the most part, they wear ordinary business suits unless the occasion is one of importance. formal evening calls require formal evening dress. paying the first call in the country, all newcomers wait until they are called upon before calling or leaving cards. formerly, calls were paid only upon those newcomers who were in one's immediate neighborhood, but now motoring has greatly increased the area of visiting. thus, when a newcomer builds or rents a home within easy motoring distance, one must feel obligated to call and leave cards. brides also wait to receive first calls. neighbors and friends are expected to call and leave cards immediately upon the return from the honeymoon. it is the particular duty of all wedding guests to call promptly as soon as the bride announces her return. when a lady comes to visit a friend in another town, it is the duty of all friends of the hostess to make the first call. it is also the rule for women who have been entertained in a friend's house in the country to be the first to call on that friend immediately upon her return to town. where there is no indebtedness of this kind and when two women arrive home from their respective summer vacations at about the same time, it is customary for the younger to make the first call upon the older. the matter of paying the first call is often a very delicate one. frequently sensitive people are offended by some unconscious slight on the part of a friend. the following rules will help those who are in doubt, and who are anxious to follow the correct usage, and thus avoid blunders that may result in broken friendships. an unmarried woman always pays the first call of the season upon a matron. the elder of two women is entitled to the first visit. this same rule holds true among men, when the question of the formal call arises. in large cities, when the recognized winter period for exchanging formal calls opens, very little attention is paid to the matter of the first calls of the season. it is usually dependent upon convenience and inclination of individuals, and upon the settling of an at-home day. sometimes women who are exceptionally punctilious make their first calls with reference to courtesies extended or received in the foregoing season. thus, they refer to their calling lists of the preceding winter, in deciding on whom to make the first calls. however, this is entirely in the hands of the individual. calls of obligation there are certain obligatory calls that must be made, if one wishes to be in accord with the laws of etiquette. these are sometimes referred to as "duty calls." for instance, it is essential for all wedding guests, bridesmaids, ushers, and for the best man, maid of honor and matron of honor to call on the bride's mother within three weeks after her daughter's wedding. they must also call upon the bride as soon as she returns from her honeymoon. if the wedding was held at the home of a sister or other relative, the call is made to the lady who acted in the capacity of hostess. the guests at a home wedding, wedding reception or breakfast, are also obligated to call on the bride's mother, and on the bride herself, in due course. it is distinctly important for all guests, both men and women, at a formal dinner to call upon the hostess within two or, at the most, three weeks after the dinner. this holds true even if the invitation was not accepted. the dinner call should be paid promptly; if a man or woman who has not accepted an invitation to dinner does not call within three weeks, the hostess has every reason to believe that he, or she, does not desire her friendship and hospitality. this same holds true of balls, suppers, parties and receptions. not to accept an invitation, and not to call, is a gross incivility and reflects upon the good manners of the person who has neglected to make the obligatory call. duty calls are necessary after formal luncheons or breakfasts, and after musicales, theater parties, opera parties, garden parties, and after attending a christening. such a call should be made within the two weeks following the event. other obligatory calls are made both before and after a funeral. the first call is merely a matter of card-leaving, unless one is an intimate friend of the bereaved family. after the funeral a call of condolence should be made. a hostess who follows the laws of good society to the letter, invariably calls on a new acquaintance before offering her any hospitality, or before issuing any invitations to her. other calls that are a matter of obligation are those of inquiry regarding a friend's health, of congratulation to parents on the birth of a child, and of congratulation to the young lady who has announced her engagement. all these calls are social necessities, and the man or woman who is well-bred never neglects them. about returning calls it is of the utmost importance that calls be promptly returned. but perhaps the most exacting of all is the first call. to neglect to return it within two weeks, or three at the most, or to explain by letter why it cannot be returned, is to indicate tacitly that the caller's friendship is not desired. this, of course, is an extremely rude and inconsiderate method to choose, if one really does not desire to cultivate a certain friendship, for there are many gracious and less unkind means to employ. a bride, or a visitor in a neighborhood, or a newcomer to a town, should not let more than ten days, or at the most two weeks, elapse before returning the civilities of their new neighbors. the first call of a new acquaintance should be just as promptly returned. after the first call is returned, it depends upon the individuals concerned whether a friendship shall be developed, or whether a "calling acquaintance" shall be kept up. (the expression "calling acquaintance" is used to indicate the custom of ladies calling upon each other once or twice during the year as a social duty, rather than as a means of developing friendship.) when calls are exchanged only once in twelve months it is an indication that only a purely formal acquaintance exists between two people. but when two women are friends, they may exchange calls at intervals of three weeks or a month, and sometimes very dear friends exchange calls every week. however, in this latter case the calls are more or less informal. calls of condolence, sympathy, inquiry and congratulation are usually answered by sending cards or brief notes to the callers. later, on issuing from mourning, or on recovery of health, the calls of condolence and inquiry may be returned, but it is not entirely necessary, and depends largely upon the convenience and individual desire of the person on whom the call was made. when a hostess is asked to invite the friends of her friends to a reception at her home, she is not obligated to return their "calls of duty." nor does a woman return any of the calls, formal or informal, of her gentlemen acquaintances. when one woman receives a call from another woman who bears a letter of introduction, a return call must be made promptly, or a letter of explanation written within two weeks after the day of the first call. the same rule is observed between men. the call of condolence it should be remembered that no hasty intrusions should ever be made upon grief. it shows lack of good taste and extreme inconsideration. only intimate friends of a bereaved family, or of one member of that family, call for any length of time. others merely leave their cards with cordial inquiries regarding the health and spirits of the members of the family. they may forward a box of flowers, including their personal card in the box, instead of calling to leave a card in person. but when the formal call of condolence is made, ten days or two weeks after the funeral, the intimate friends of the family should be careful to avoid all subjects that would cause pain to the bereaved ones. they should not, unless gifted with rare tact, make any reference to the death but should rather speak of cheerful things. however, it may be necessary to give some word of sympathy either upon greeting or departure. a tactful way to greet a sorrowing person is to say simply, "i have called to assure you of my sympathy." the subject should then be dropped and other matters discussed. on departure a word of cheer and sympathy, and a hearty warm hand-clasp go a long way towards helping matters. calls of condolence should be brief. it is poor form to remain longer than fifteen minutes, unless one is a particularly intimate friend and able to relieve the intensity of grief by his or her presence. if the person called upon feels the loss so poignantly that he or she cannot be composed, it is far better to leave a cordial note at the door asking to be excused from all callers, than to greet them and cause embarrassment by a display of emotion. persons in affliction often prefer to be alone, and the intrusion of anyone except their very dearest friends causes fresh grief. the call of congratulation and inquiry calls of congratulation are warranted only by intimacy or by friendship of long standing. after the birth of a child, feminine friends of the mother incur the duty of calling upon her and leaving inquiries about her own and her child's health, along with the customary congratulations. friends of the young lady who announces her engagement are expected to call and offer congratulations. this call is usually made between ten days and two weeks after the announcement is received. married women who are friends of the young woman's mother also call to make their congratulations. calls of inquiry are made during the illness or convalescence of a friend or acquaintance. sometimes these calls are made after a fire or accident, or after some several financial loss or other disaster. extreme tact is needed in paying such calls. the call itself assumes no greater proportions than that merely of doorstep card-leaving, yet it is an expression of genuine sympathy and a desire to show that friendship will be continued no matter what happens. the chapter devoted to visiting cards contains several model cards of inquiry that can be used on the various occasions mentioned. the social calls of men gentlemen of good society usually devote sunday afternoons and evenings to their formal visits. weekday evenings are also often given over to the same purpose. the gentleman who calls upon a lady shows good taste and consideration by selecting her day at home. a man is expected to make calls of condolence, inquiry and congratulation upon all his intimate friends, men and women. he is also expected to pay a call promptly upon a hostess who has entertained him either at dinner or a dance. however, he may not call again unless he is invited to do so by the hostess. a bachelor residing in a new neighborhood is expected to return all first calls made upon him, but he has the privilege of requesting a sister or woman relative living with him to make the return call in his name. when introduced to a gentleman by means of a letter of introduction from a mutual friend, it is essential that the recipient return the call within three days. this holds true also if it is a lady who presents the letter of introduction. gentlemen who are invited to balls, dinners, theater parties, garden parties, etc., are expected to make calls within ten days or two weeks, even though they do not accept the invitation. the invalid's call an invalid may return calls by sending a daughter or a close friend in her stead. a sister may also make calls for an invalided woman. when a member of society is an invalid, with no daughters or sisters, and with no very intimate friends, she may issue cards or notes through the mails if she wishes to keep up her social activities. a daughter of an invalid calls upon all her mother's friends, introduces herself, and explains why she is appearing in her mother's place. or she may just leave her mother's card, with her own name and a word of explanation written above it. the latter method is undoubtedly the most satisfactory. a person who is invalided temporarily may send cards in answer to the courtesies of friends or she may allow her daughter to assume her social responsibilities. usually because of the heavy demands which society places upon one she goes back to her round of calls, teas, receptions, etc., gradually rather than all at once. friends are always considerate under such circumstances and etiquette never exacts more than one can possibly do. asking a new acquaintance to call you cannot, except under special conditions, invite people to your home unless you have called on them in formal manner and they have returned the visit. a young woman, and an unmarried woman, wait for an invitation to call from an older woman and matron. it is not advisable for a young woman to ask a gentleman to call until she has met him several times and is quite sure that she wishes to develop his friendship. a woman never calls upon a gentleman except on a business mission, in which case she may not discuss social or domestic topics. a married woman does not leave a card for an unmarried man unless she has been to a reception at his house; then she leaves one of her own cards with one of her husband's. it is expected of a young matron or of a _débutante_ that she request being permitted to call upon an elderly matron or old lady after the two have met at a watering-place or in the home of a mutual friend, and after having exchanged cards. a gentleman who wishes to call upon a young girl he admires, first asks permission of the lady's mother, being quite certain, of course, that his visit would be agreeable to the young lady herself. to ask permission of the mother is to convey a very distinct compliment to both women, and reflects culture and breeding upon the character of the young man himself. when asking a gentleman to call it is sufficient to say, "mother and i will be at home wednesday at three o'clock, mr. blank. i hope you will come to see us," or, "i should be very glad to have you visit me, mr. blank. mother and i are usually at home in the evenings." in some sections of the country it is customary for the gentleman to ask permission to call upon a young lady, rather than for the young lady to request him to call. he may say, "miss blank, i hope i may call on you sometime before very long," or "i would like to call upon you at your home, miss blank. may i call some evening when you and your mother are at home?" the woman's business call a woman may call on a man only for business purposes. in this case the man is usually her clergyman, editor, lawyer, physician or merchant, and the call is made during office hours. the woman who is making a business call does not usually send in a visiting card, but merely gives her name to the attendant. she states her business briefly, remembering to avoid all personal, social or domestic topics not essential to the furtherance of the matter in hand. if it is necessary for a woman to call upon a man at his home, she must be accompanied by a male relative, or by a woman older than herself. this holds true only when she is entirely unacquainted with the members of the man's family, and is only acquainted with the man himself through business interests. she does not send up her cards, merely her name, and she makes her visit as short as possible. when a woman calls at a bachelor apartment or at a gentleman's studio it is an unimpeachable law of etiquette that she be correctly chaperoned. etiquette also bars a woman from visiting a gentleman's club, even for the purpose of seeing her husband. the lady who has been entertained at the home of a gentleman may drive to his door and send up her card. but she never enters his home for a social visit. receiving calls the day at home is devoted exclusively to the receiving and entertaining of callers. this day at home is decided by the hostess at the beginning of the season; one day each week, or one day in every two weeks, is set apart for receiving calls. the hostess should be ready to receive her first call by a few minutes before three o'clock. she may, if she wishes, specify a certain hour for calling on her at-home card, but if she prefers to leave the hour open, she should be prepared to greet her guests from three o'clock in the afternoon until a little before half-past five. there are three methods that may be employed in announcing a caller. the method you choose should be governed by what you can afford and by what is most convenient for you. the most formal and effective plan is to have a full-liveried butler at the door to lead each guest to the drawing-room, and then announce his or her name to the hostess. or a servant may be at the door to offer each visitor a small silver tray, on which to place his or her card. the most simple method is to place a large tray in the hall, preferably on a small table that is conspicuously situated, and into this the cards of the callers may be cast as they pass into the drawing-room. it should be remembered that a maid-servant never announces callers, but only offers them a card-tray and helps them with their wraps. the caller at an apartment house should first have the hall boy telephone up to the hostess--unless the caller is expected--to know if she is at home. it is not permissible except among very intimate friends to go up unannounced. the hostess should always prepare some sort of refreshment for her guests on the day at home. in winter, tea or hot chocolate may be served with wafers or cake. sometimes light sandwiches and bonbons are served on the day at home. in the warm summer months, if calls are made, the visitors may be refreshed with iced tea, chocolate or punch. duties of the hostess on her day at home, the hostess makes every effort to make her callers feel that she is glad to have them. she rises as each new guest makes his or her appearance, steps forward and offers her hand in greeting. the expressions, "how do you do, mrs. brown," and "i am delighted to see you, mr. gray," are effective phrases of greeting. it is her important duty to make general introductions, and to give some special attention to each caller as he or she arrives, drawing him into conversation with the others before leaving him to greet another newcomer. if the rooms are warm, the hostess may invite a feminine caller to remove her wraps, but she must not assume this privilege with the gentleman. she usually serves tea or chocolate herself, but if there are many guests, she may ask one or two friends to assist her. it is poor hospitality to insist upon replenishing a cup of tea after a guest has declined with thanks. receiving the chance caller it is not always very convenient to entertain chance callers, especially if one has some important business or appointment to attend to. but when the servant at the door has admitted that her mistress is at home, the hostess should exert every effort to make good the servant's assurance. she must not keep the caller waiting, nor must she ask to be excused after the caller has been admitted. if important business claims her time, she may come to the drawing-room and after welcoming the visitor, explain the situation and ask to be excused. by no means may she send a written or verbal excuse by messenger. having been admitted, the presence of the hostess is demanded if it is for no other reason than to offer an excuse. if the hostess has no pressing business duties or appointments to which to attend, it is her duty to afford every hospitality to the chance caller. if the call is made in the afternoon, and if the hostess ordinarily serves tea at that hour, she may serve tea, chocolate or punch with cake or wafers. when the caller is a gentleman, and the hostess a young lady, it is proper to call one's mother or chaperon into the drawing-room to make the correct introduction, or if the visitor is already known, to welcome him. a young lady who is well-bred does not entertain gentlemen until they have been welcomed by her mother. when two chance callers arrive at the same time, the hostess is, of course, under obligation to make the necessary introductions. when the host is at home it is not very often that the host is present at his wife's day at home, for the very good reason that business claims all his time during the day. but there is no reason why he should not be present if he desires to and if it is convenient for him. the duty of any masculine member of a family appearing in the drawing-room on the day at home--whether it be husband, son or brother--is to share in the honors and obligations of the occasion. he will be introduced to those visitors with whom he is not already acquainted, by his wife or sister, as the case may be; and he is expected to assist in entertaining, pass the cups, make introductions, accompany departing guests to the door and join in the conversations. when it can be arranged it is most delightful for the husband and wife to receive their friends together. for this reason even formal society is lenient with regard to time and sundays may be utilized for "at homes," teas, or receptions. taking leave of the hostess the hostess is not expected to accompany her departing guests to the door when there are others still in the room to claim her attention. however, it is only a matter of genuine friendliness and politeness to accompany each departing guest as far as the drawing-room door. this rule does not hold true when one of the guests is infirm, or when the hostess is entertaining a very distinguished visitor. but ordinarily, it is all-sufficient to rise when a guest moves to depart, offer one's hand in cordial farewell, and say, "good afternoon, miss cary. so good of you to come," or, "good-by, mrs. blank, i hope to hear some more about that wonderful trip to east india." the hostess continues to stand until the guest turns to pass out of the room. if the guest is a woman, it is a mark of extreme politeness to remain standing until she has left the room entirely. when all the guests have departed, the hostess usually accompanies the last visitor to the hall door; and if it is a special friend, she is privileged to accompany her to the very street door. however, the hostess must be careful not to extend any special courtesies to an intimate friend while other guests are present, nor may she draw a visitor aside to converse in an undertone about some private or personal affair. on rising to depart, a caller seeks out the hostess and bids her a formal adieu. prolonged farewells are not the best taste, for they keep the hostess standing and distracted when there are others who are entitled to her time and attention. as soon as one intimates that he or she wishes to depart, a quick but cordial farewell should be taken and the departure made as soon as possible. to bow oneself out of the drawing-room is a foreign and wholly undemocratic custom which no well-bred man or woman recognizes. a slight inclination of the head, a cordial good-afternoon to the guests, and a formal farewell to the hostess should be followed by immediate leaving of the room. in apartment houses it is a pretty little attention for the hostess to accompany her guest to the elevator and ring the bell for her. this she should, of course, not do in the event that there are others present to claim her attention. a gentleman rises from his seat when a woman enters and when she rises to depart. when taking leave of the hostess he waits for her to offer her hand, otherwise he merely bows and offers some word of farewell. the evening call a gentleman is privileged to make his call in return for a hospitality extended him in the evening. it is considerate of him, when he cannot call in the afternoon, to call on the evening of the hostess' day at home. when a young man has been asked to call by a young lady, he does not ask to see her alone but requests of the servant at the door that he be announced to _the ladies_. this is especially important, for it infers that he expects to be presented to the young lady's mother or her chaperon. after he has met her mother, it is entirely proper for him, when calling, to request to see the particular lady for whom the visit is intended. a gentleman is usually shown into the drawing-room by the servant. he retains his overcoat and gloves until the servant returns to let him know that the young lady will receive him presently; then he divests himself of these garments and either puts them himself in the hall, or entrusts them to the servant. when the lady enters, he rises, steps forward to meet her, and does not resume his seat until she has seated herself. when gentlemen receive callers a lady does not call upon a gentleman unless it is for the purpose of business. under such conditions, the gentleman rises, finds her a seat and proceeds immediately with the matter of business. no social or domestic topics are introduced. if the interview is to be a short one, or if the man is pressed for time, he may go out to meet the lady in the corridor or outer office and stand while he hears her business. when a lady is admitted to his private office, a gentleman does not receive her with his hat on, or with his coat off. he refrains from smoking, and gives her his whole attention during the interview. if the telephone rings, he must excuse himself before answering it. he rises when the lady is ready to leave, opens the door for her, and accompanies her to the door or elevator if he wishes to be extremely polite. however, this latter courtesy is necessary only when the visitor is a relative or special friend. a gentleman merely bows when a lady takes her departure, unless she herself offers her hand. it is quite permissible when certain pressing affairs claim one's attention to request to be excused or postpone the business call until some later date. or if he wishes her to be brief, the gentleman may courteously request the lady to do so, and he will invariably find that she will be only too willing to comply with his request. but there can be no excuse for the man who insists upon being curt to women who call at his office on matters of business, any more than there is an excuse for lack of gallantry and courtesy in the drawing-room. a gentleman receives his masculine callers at his home as cordially and with as much hospitality as the lady receives her feminine friends. he must observe all the rules outlined for the hostess. he greets each caller formally, makes all necessary introductions, sees that conversation runs smoothly and pleasantly, and if he wishes, offers refreshments. when he has a mother or sister to help him entertain, he may invite women guests, and then it is his duty to accompany each lady as far as the door and see that her car is in readiness. when the last guest to depart is a gentleman, the host usually goes with him as far as the hall door, and assists him with his coat. making a chance call very often a call is returned on some other day than that set apart by the hostess for the day at home. it is not always convenient for friends and acquaintances to observe a certain day at home, but when they call on other days they always are faced with uncertainty. of course there are some women who do not have a definite day at home, but they may be found at home almost any afternoon. a woman calling on a friend or acquaintance on no definite day makes some such inquiry as follows of the servant at the door: "is mrs. gray at home?" or, "are the ladies in this afternoon?" having received a reply in the negative, the caller leaves her card and departs. there must be no questions as to where the ladies may be, or what time they shall return, unless one is a particularly intimate friend of the entire family. when the servant announces at the door that her mistress is not at home, it may mean either that she is out of the house entirely or that she is so completely occupied with business that she is not able to entertain. in either case, however, the report of the servant must be taken as final, and it may not be questioned. informal calls we will call it that--these friendly little visits that neighbors make upon each other in smaller towns, or in less fashionable circles. informal calls. but you may call them friendly calls, if you wish. in small towns, and especially in the country, women may "drop in" for a chat with their neighbors any time in the afternoon. even morning calls between ten and one o'clock are permissible. there is nothing formal about these calls. it is not necessary to have a liveried butler at the door to announce the name, nor a small silver tray on which to place the caller's card. butlers, cards and formalities are all omitted, and the call drops into a delightfully intimate visit. it would be ridiculous to attempt to set down a definite time limit for these calls. they may be as short as twenty minutes or as long as two hours, depending entirely upon the individuals and the circumstances. refreshments may or may not be served as one pleases. formal greetings and farewells are dispensed with, and in their place are cordial "hellos" and "good-bys" that are entirely conducive to good friendship. if you feel that, because you are not fortunate enough to own a pretentious dwelling and to hire impressive butlers and maid-servants to welcome your guests, you should not make calls and have them returned, you are depriving yourself of a pleasure infinitely greater than all elaborate display and ostentation. simple, informal calls made for the purpose of creating and developing friendships, and made with a feeling of genuine cordiality and friendliness, are even more gratifying than the stiffly formal social calls. do not feel that you are obeying etiquette's decrees when you neglect your friendships merely because your home and facilities do not warrant extensive social intercourse. true etiquette is universal in its appeal and reaches the country-woman in her little cottage as directly as it reaches the stately dowager in her city mansion. chapter iv visiting cards--and others your card a representative of you an interesting anecdote we have in mind will illustrate better than anything we can say, the importance of the correct card, whether it be in business or social activities. a rather eccentric gentleman discovered an amazing new commodity for which there had been considerable demand for many years. he became immediately famous. reporters besieged his home and office in quest of interviews, but the reports in the newspapers were of the vaguest and most indefinite. he shunned publicity, and absolutely refused to see or speak to anyone. then a brilliant young chap who knew and understood the eccentricities of the inventor, conceived the idea of having a special card engraved to send in to him. the others laughed at his "foolish idea" as they called it, but he had absolute faith in his plan. he had a neat white card engraved with his name and address, much the same form and size as the ordinary social card. but in the lower left-hand corner, in tiny italics, these words were printed: "wishes to tell the people the truth about your discovery." the card went in to the inventor. the reporter was admitted. and his paper boasted headlines and columns of startling facts the next day that no other paper in town had. the very appearance of the card, its neatness and its obvious originality, commanded the attention of the man who hated publicity, and caused him to submit to an interview. of course we cannot all have special cards printed for certain occasions. nor can we be original to the extent that we do not follow the rules of etiquette regarding correct forms for social cards. but we can make our cards so distinctive, so representative of ourselves, that the recipient will find as much pleasure in receiving them as we in offering them. and by distinctive we do not mean the fancy or embellished card, but the one that is strictly in accord with the rules of good usage as outlined in the following paragraphs. general rules regarding cards social and professional cards should be engraved either on copper or steel; plain, readable type should be used. ornate scripts that are hardly legible should be avoided. ordinary script type is permissible, but it must not be fancy or comprised wholly of swinging flourishes. a plain letter is always preferable. the ordinary roman type, or any new modification of it, or gothic lettering, is always in good taste. when a large quantity of cards is desired, the copper-plate should be requested, as the greatest number of clear impressions can be taken from it. requests may also be made of the stationer to use an embossed plate so that the letters stand out in relief. the color should be white or cream. other colors are in bad taste, although sometimes buff and pale blue cards are used by professional men and women. the stock should be thin; not as thin as paper, but much thinner than that used for other kinds of cards. cards are engraved with the owner's name and address, or with the name alone. if it is a professional card, the word "artist" or "attorney-at-law" or whatever the profession happens to be may appear in the lower left-hand corner. military men may also print their rank or position in this corner, as may also professors and others holding a title of distinction. the engraving of names and addresses should never be in any color but black. black engraving on a pure white card is the best form for the social card. gilt letterings are an indication of ignorance, and so are brightly colored engraving or highly tinted paper. size of cards for women each new visiting season brings with it new fashions in cards--fashions that chiefly affect the size of the card. thus it would hardly be practical to state definitely correct sizes. but we will give here the approximate size for the woman's visiting and social cards, and exact information can be acquired from one's personal stationer or from one of the current magazines which run special departments to take care of matters of this kind. when a lady's card bears her name only, it should never measure more than two and seven-eighths inches in length and two and one-eighth inches in width. no card should be smaller than two and one-half inches in length and one and seven-eighths inches in width. a double card, on which the names of both mother and daughter or both husband and wife appear, should be about three inches and a half in length, by two and one-half in width. no decorations of any kind should be used on a card. polite society at the present time favors pure white, unglazed bristol board about two and two-thirds inches in length by two and one-eighth inches in width. size and material of cards for men it is usual for a man's card to be narrower and the least bit shorter than a woman's. the ordinary size is two and five-eighths inches by one and three-eighths inches, but like the woman's card is subject to change. the stationer will be able to give definite information regarding the size of the man's card at the present time. a man's card is as severely simple and unadorned as the woman's. no ornamentation, no flourish in the lettering. just plain, readable type or script engraved in black upon white. the card itself should be of polished, but not glazed, bristol board, the kind that is flexible and thin. some gentlemen have their cards made of especially thin stock to avoid bulky card cases or waistcoat pockets. a bachelor may have his home address engraved in the lower right-hand corner of his card, with the name of his favorite club opposite. if he resides entirely at his club, the name is engraved in the lower right-hand corner. it is bad form to have a business address engraved on one's social visiting card. an at-home day is never given on a gentleman's card, but appears in the lower left-hand corner of his wife's card. a bachelor is not expected to devote a definite day to the entertaining of callers unless he is an artist with a studio. titles on cards for women a woman's visiting card should be engraved solely with her name, address and day at home. any decorations such as gilded edges, crests or superfluous engravings are an indication of bad taste. in america a lady never assumes any title other than mrs. or miss on her social card. there is only one exception to this rule: a professional woman may use her title of doctor of medicine, etc. in this case, even though she is married, she drops her husband's christian names and signs herself marian m. browning, m.d. a woman does not share, on her cards, the honorary titles of her husband. for instance, the wife of our president has her cards engraved "mrs. warren gamaliel harding." the wife of a secretary, judge, general or admiral does not use any title other than mrs. even the woman who is a successful physician should not use her title on her social cards, unless, as explained above, she is elderly. it is wise for a woman physician to have two sets of cards, one with her name and title, and with her office hours in the corner, the other with her name alone, and her house address in the corner. a physician's social card should be engraved simply "miss marian mansfield browning." it is always better form to give in full the christian name or names, as well as the surname. it is not tasteful to indicate by an initial only the husband's first name, and engrave his middle name, thus: "mrs. j. henry williams." both names should be given in full. it is not considered dignified to use abbreviations of a husband's name, as frank for francis, alec for alexander, joe for joseph. nor should an unmarried woman use such abbreviations of her name as polly, sally, dolly, etc. the wife who is the senior matron of the senior branch of a family may drop both her husband's first and middle names from her cards, and have them read simply: "mrs. robinson." her eldest unmarried daughter is entitled to use a card reading: "miss robinson." when the name is a very ordinary one like brown or smith, it is always wiser to use the christian names to avoid confusion. a spinster, or as the modern woman likes to call herself, the "bachelor girl," may not use cards engraved merely miss gray, unless she is the oldest daughter of a family. she has her cards engraved in either of the three following forms: "miss mary hammond gray" or "miss mary h. gray" or just "miss mary gray." the first initial should never be used, except when the young lady is known by her middle name, unless professional purposes demand it. _mrs. john jay holmes west street_ _miss helen holmes west street_ cards for widows a widow is privileged to retain her husband's christian name on her card if she wishes, unless her eldest son is married and bears the full name of his deceased father. in this case, of course, there would be confusion, and it is much wiser for her to have her cards engraved with her own christian and middle names, in this manner: "mrs. lucille may hopkins." if there is no reason for her to drop her husband's christian and middle names after his death, she may sign herself: "mrs. henry waltam hopkins." at the present time, it is good form for the woman who has been divorced to use her maiden surname with the surname of the divorced or deceased husband, dropping all christian names. thus a woman whose maiden name was harris would have her cards engraved "mrs. harris smith" if she is divorced from her husband. the name, even if she resumes her full maiden name, should be prefixed by "mrs.," never by "miss." a widow should avoid following the style prescribed for a divorced woman, since it is likely to cause embarrassing ambiguity. it is fully permissible for a widow to revive her maiden name after several years of widowhood. the divorced woman, however, may not use her maiden name on her cards until there has been a legal annulment of her marriage, in which case, as was stated above, she uses it with the title "mrs.," not "miss." the young lady's card when a young lady has been formally introduced to society by her mother, she uses for her first year of calls, cards that bear her name below that of her mother. she assumes a private card only when she is no longer a _débutante_. the joint card, as it is called, should be larger in size than the card her mother ordinarily uses, and the young lady's christian and middle names should be used unless she is the eldest daughter of the family. a model card appears below: _mrs. robert cole miss jean evelyn cole tuesdays south street_ when mother and daughter pay calls together, this one card serves for both. but when the daughter makes calls alone, she runs a pencil line lightly through her mother's name--unless, of course, she is merely leaving cards and not making formal calls. the mother does not use the double card when calling alone, unless she is leaving cards for herself and her daughter. very often the double card, with the name of mother and daughter, is used even after the daughter has emerged from her _débutanteship_, when both are visiting together. in less formal society the daughter has her own card bearing only her name, with or without title, which she uses whenever the occasion demands it, and in many instances, even when she makes her _début_ she has a card of her own which she uses instead of or in addition to the one which she shares with her mother. when daughters make their _début_ in society at the same time, the name of the mother appears nearest the top, as before, directly below it is "miss cole" for the eldest daughter, and below that "miss edna cole" for her younger sister. the form "the misses cole" may also be used when there are two or three daughters. the joint card is used to announce the address and at-home day, at the beginning of the season; but it is also used when the ladies of a family send a wedding gift with their card, when they send flowers to an invalided friend or when they make calls of condolence or congratulation together. there are several other double, or joint, cards used besides those of the mother and daughter. a motherless girl, living with her father, may couple her name with his. sisters who have no parents may use a double card with the name of the older engraved above that of the younger, or with the simple inscription, "the misses gray." a sister who is unmarried often shares a joint card with a married sister, when they are living together. a chaperon and motherless girl, an aunt and unmarried niece are entitled to use joint cards if they wish. after her first season, a young lady, when calling alone, uses her own card. however, if her mother is an active hostess who issues her cards every season and receives with her daughters, she does not indicate a day at home on her personal cards. a supply of double cards should always be available when there are daughters in the family, even though they issue their own cards, for many instances arise when the double card is more acceptable than any other. indicating the day at home the lower left-hand corner of the visiting card is reserved for the day at home. if one day each week--or rather one afternoon from three until six o'clock each week--is devoted to the entertaining of visitors, the word "fridays" or "tuesdays" is engraved in the corner. there need be no explanation, no further details, unless the hostess for some reason wishes to state the hours during which she will be receiving, in which case it is quite permissible to add them to the names of the day or days. sometimes particular limits are set on the days at home. for instance some hostesses are at home only one afternoon in every second, or every third, week. this requires special wording. for instance, "first and fourth wednesdays" or "first fridays" (meaning first fridays in the month). one may also set a time limit by having one's cards engraved: "tuesdays until lent" or "mondays until april," or "wednesdays, december -- -- ." the married couple's card the married woman finds many occasions to use the card that is engraved with her husband's and her name. it is never used to announce her day at home, unless he is to receive with her, though she may use it when calling, if she wishes. the double card for a married couple is larger than the individual card, but just about the size of the double card used for mother and daughter. a model is shown below. _mr. and mrs. john blake west end avenue_ brides use the joint card when returning calls made upon them after their return from the honeymoon. it is also customary for such a card to be inclosed with a wedding invitation or with an announcement of marriage, to give the united names of the couple with their future address and day at home. if this last plan is not followed, the bride posts, immediately upon her return home, a double card bearing her address and day at home, to all her own and her husband's friends. the double card is then rarely used, except for such occasions as when husband and wife send a gift together, or pay calls of inquiry, condolence or congratulation together. using jr. and sr. "jr." is a contraction of the word junior; "sr." is a contraction of the word "senior." these suffixes are not generally used on women's cards, but there are several occasions when they are necessary. there is, for instance, the lady whose husband bearing the same name as his father lives in the same town. her cards must bear the suffix "jr." if they are not to be confused with the cards of her mother-in-law. in this instance, if the mother-in-law were a widow using her husband's full name, it would be necessary for her to add the word "senior," or its abbreviation, "sr.," after her name to avoid having it confused with that of her daughter-in-law. the latter would, in this case, omit the "jr." from her cards. if both women lost their husbands, and both wished to retain the husband's christian names on their cards, the discriminating "jr." and "sr." should be used. these suffixes do not have to be used if the younger widow only retains the christian names of her husband, and the older woman revives the use of her own christian and middle names. "jr." and "sr." may appear on the cards in their abbreviated forms. indeed, it is preferable if the name is a long one. titles on cards for men a gentleman's card should always bear some distinguishing title. the only time when "mr." may be omitted, is when "jr." or "sr." follows the name, or when some honorary title is conferred. a boy under sixteen may have a card which bears only his name without title. undignified abbreviations or contractions of names should never be used on a gentleman's card. the inscription should read: "mr. robert w. blake" or, preferably, "mr. robert walter blake." such contractions as "mr. bob blake" or "mr. r. walter blake" are discountenanced by good society. only the gentleman who represents the head of the senior branch of his family may use a card with his name engraved simply, "mr. blake." very often a bachelor has his home address engraved in the lower right-hand corner of his card, with the name of his favorite club in the corner opposite. if he resides entirely at his club, its name occupies the place usually reserved on the card for home addresses. an at-home day is never given on a gentleman's card, unless he is an artist and has many friends who are fond of coming to his studio. in the army, only those men whose ranks are above captain use their military title on their visiting cards. others use merely the prefix "mr." men who are officers of volunteer regiments are not entitled to the use of military titles on their cards, and they should be careful to use only "mr." before their names. a captain, major, or colonel in the army signifies in the corner of the card whether his command is in the artillery, the infantry, or the cavalry. a justice of the supreme court has his cards engraved with the title mr. justice preceding his name, thus: "mr. justice john emmonds gary." lawyers and judges of the lower courts may use only the prefix "mr." presidents of colleges, officers of the navy, physicians and clergymen all signify their office, rank or profession on their cards. a physician may have his card engraved in either of these two approved manners: "dr. everett johnson" or "everett johnson, m.d." a clergyman who has received his degree does not use the title "dr.," but has his cards engraved, "elmer j. burnham, d.d." other men with honorary titles follow a similar style. members of the cabinet, if they wish, may have their cards formally engraved "the secretary of state," "the secretary of war," "the secretary of the interior," etc. a senator, however, may use only the prefix "mr.," having his cards engraved "mr. johnson." of course the president and vice-president, and ambassadors indicate their office and rank on their card, as do also all professors and deans of colleges. a member of the faculty of yale would have his cards inscribed, "mr. walter beacon clark, yale university." foreign consuls and representatives use only the title "mr." business addresses should never be used on a gentleman's social card. a physician or clergyman need not follow this rule, provided that no office hours are given. _mr. robert livingston west tenth street_ professional cards for men professional cards and visiting cards should always be kept distinct from each other. the physician who uses his professional card, with business hours engraved on it, for a social call, is committing an irretrievable blunder in etiquette. a physician has the privilege of choosing either of two forms for his professional card. he may prefix his name with "dr." or add the initials "m.d." to it. in the lower right-hand corner of the card, his house address is engraved; and in the opposite corner, his office hours. for his social cards, the physician omits the office hours and uses m.d. after his name rather than "dr." before it. "rev." or "reverend," is the approved title for a clergyman. cards are engraved: "reverend raymond falke fleming" or "rev. raymond f. fleming." a clergyman who is entitled to the degree of doctor may use all his titles on his professional cards, but has his social card engraved merely: "ralph kendrick williams, d.d." not infrequently it happens that a man has occasion to write his name on a card with his own hand. in this case he does not omit the conventional "mr.," or his honorary titles, but writes his name identically as it would appear if engraved. no card should be crowded with a great deal of information but a business card may bear whatever is necessary really to represent the person whose name appears upon it. the salesman or other representative of a large firm has the name of the firm on his business card and the man who is in a highly specialized kind of work such as advertising, may have the word "advertising" engraved on his card. an agent for a particular kind of commodity may have this fact indicated on his business card. such details have, of course, absolutely no place on the social card. cards for mourning the tradition of edging a card with black in deference to the dead can be traced back to the ancient patagonians who used black paint to denote the passing of a spirit. they painted their bodies black, if they were near relatives of the deceased, and painted all the belongings of the dead man or woman black. this may not have been so much mourning as it was fear, for these people of long ago were afraid of death, and they used the death-color largely to please the spirit of the one who died. perhaps the black-bordered mourning cards we use to-day are used more in the spirit of ostentation and display rather than that of mourning. unless one is truly sorrowing over the death of some dear one, mourning cards should not be used. when they are used, the borders should be very narrow--never more than one-fourth of an inch. they should not be carried by people who are not in strict mourning garments. during the first year of widowhood, the mourning card should have a black border one-fourth of an inch deep. the second year the border may be diminished one-sixteenth of an inch; and every six months after that, the same amount may be detracted from the border, until mourning is put off entirely. a widower's card has a border narrower than the widow's in proportion to the size of their respective cards. it, too, is gradually decreased in width until the end of the mourning period. this graduation, or rather gradual narrowing, of the border is not used in the mourning of a sister's, brother's or parent's death. for these relatives, a border not less than a sixteenth or more than an eighth of an inch in width should be used. mourning cards should not be assumed for an uncle, aunt or cousin, unless genuine sorrow and heartfelt sympathy are felt. a border that is a sixteenth of an inch in width is sufficient for the complete period of mourning for these latter relatives. the mourning cards of parents and widows should bear the broadest black borders, but even they must not exceed the conventional width, which is not more than one-fourth of an inch. very wide, glaring borders denote bad taste on the part of the owner. (see footnote)[ ] [ ] there seems to be a tendency for widows to use, the first year of their mourning, cards that have borders measuring one-third of an inch in width. certainly if one is in deep mourning, and genuinely sorrowing, a border of this width is permissible. but the one-quarter inch border, varying down to one-sixteenth of an inch, is always preferred, always in better taste. when the woman goes a-calling a visiting card is always left on the hall table or on the card tray, if it is not given to the servant. the caller must on no occasion carry it in and present it to her hostess like a _billet d'admission_. a woman _never_ presents it herself to her hostess. when the call is made on the hostess' day at home, cards are left on the tray in the hall as each caller passes through to the drawing- or reception-room. if it is the first call of the season, to that particular friend or acquaintance, she places one of her own cards and one of her husband's in the tray. subsequent calls of the season do not require one of her own cards left each time in the tray; but if the call is made in return for some hospitality or entertainment accorded her and her husband, she leaves two of the latter's cards--provided, only, that the hostess is a married woman. until about , women, when paying calls and finding that the hostess was not at home, turned down the left corner of the card towards the center, to indicate that all the women members of the family were included in the call. if the right corner was also turned down, it meant that the visitor came to make a formal call, not for the simple purpose of card-leaving. this custom has been entirely eliminated in america, at any rate, though it still prevails in certain foreign countries. and rightly so, for it is both affected and untidy. when more than one card is left a wife beginning her rounds of first calls, leaves two of her husband's cards with one of her own. she repeats this when she comes to congratulate or condole, and when she pays her final calls of the season. it is wise for a wife always to carry a number of her husband's cards in her card case, as she is often called upon to use them for such social occasions that the busy business man is loath to attend. if a wife calls upon a friend who is entertaining for a friend or relative and the invitation included her husband, she leaves three of his cards with one of her own if the hostess is a married woman, two of his and one of hers if she is single. she never leaves one of her husband's cards for an unmarried daughter. she should not use the card bearing both her name and that of her husband but should use two separate cards when it is in connection with social calls. etiquette does not permit a woman to leave a card for a man. she may call on a man only for the purpose of business, and then she uses her business cards, if she has them, instead of her social ones. a married woman calling upon a single woman who is the hostess and mistress of her own home, leaves one of her own cards and one of her husband's, or the joint card which is engraved, "mr. and mrs. william allan beckford." in many instances it may seem more courteous to leave more than one card, but a woman calling alone should never leave more than three. it has not been many years since she was almost compelled to leave half a dozen or more but common sense intervened and this custom like most others has been simplified. some more points about calls and cards a young lady during her first year in society may leave her name on the same card with her mother's. if there are two _débutante_ daughters, the joint card is made to suffice for all three. if a young lady using separate cards calls on a friend's day at home, she may put two cards into the tray on entering, if the hostess is receiving with a friend or daughter, or she may leave only one card, if she prefers. this is done only when the call is the first of the season, or when it is in return for some entertainment. otherwise, if the young lady is a frequent visitor to the house, and calls on her friend's day at home, she need not leave her card. neither a matron nor a young lady may leave a card for a masculine member of the household. a young lady paying a chance call on a mother and daughters, and being told that the ladies are out, leaves two of her cards. an unmarried woman calling on her married friend leaves but one card. but if this friend has a friend or relative receiving with her, or if she has a daughter or daughters in society, then a card is left for each of the ladies. an unmarried woman, living with a father or brother, and acting as mistress of the household, has cards left for her as carefully as the matron. a widow must also be given scrupulous attention in the matter of cards. a young lady who calls after a dance, dinner or theater party leaves a card for the mother of the young friend upon whom she calls. if a mother gives a dance or dinner in honor of her son just returned from college, or just leaving for college, the ladies who attend call afterward only on the hostess and leave their cards for her. sometimes, one calls upon a friend or acquaintance at a hotel or inn. if the ladies are out, the caller leaves cards marked for the persons they are intended, in pencil. otherwise they are likely to go astray, considering the indifference and carelessness of the average servants. it is also customary for both men and women, when paying calls in strange neighborhoods, to write on their cards their temporary address. the corner that is opposite that used for the permanent address is devoted to the filling-in of this temporary address. the chance calls if a married woman calls in return for some hospitality shown her and her husband, she leaves two of her own cards and two of his. but if it is just a social call, she leaves only her own card. in this latter case, she asks at the door to see the ladies. if she is informed that they are not at home, she gives the card to the maid and departs. on the other hand, if the ladies are at home, the card is placed on the tray in the hall, and the caller goes into the drawing-room to be welcomed by her friends. if the maid does not know whether or not the ladies are at home, and says she will see, the caller gives her own card and goes into the drawing-room to wait further word from the maid. should the ladies be out, she leaves two of her husband's cards on the card tray in the hall before leaving. if the ladies are at home, she does not deposit her husband's cards in the tray until her departure. very often a lady will call on a very good friend, more for a friendly little talk and for companionship than for social duty. in this case, she is privileged to send up only one card; and leave it behind, whether that lady is out or in, without any other cards. simple card-leaving frequently, cards are left when there is no intention on the part of the owner to make a call. to return calls made upon one, by persistent card-leaving, is to indicate that one wishes to draw a friendship to a close. it is accomplished merely by leaving a card, on no particular at-home day but simply by chance, and by making no inquiries of the servant. one says to a servant, "please forward these cards to miss adams" or, "these cards are for mr. and mrs. blakelock." there are several exceptions--several occasions when cards may be left without a formal call and still indicate no desire to terminate an acquaintanceship. it is only persistent card-leaving that is indicative of this latter. a lady in mourning, for instance, is privileged to leave her cards only in return for invitations she may have received. it is proper for people in mourning to leave cards for all those persons who called after the burial to leave cards of condolence; these return cards are usually black-bordered, and they are left about one month after the funeral. another custom that remains unchanged through the constant evolution of social culture, is that of leaving cards for the bride's mother when invitations to the church ceremony only are received, and when the bride's mother is a stranger to the person invited. upon receiving the announcement of a wedding, the proper thing to do is to leave cards for the bride's mother, even though she is a total stranger. cards must be left by each guest for the lady who has entertained a club, charity or literary organization, at her home. they serve the same purpose as cards that are left after an entertainment or hospitality on the part of the hostess. the custom of card-leaving without a call is also observed when a friend or acquaintance goes to a home that has been visited by death. should a stranger leave cards? the question has often been asked, whether or not a man or woman being entertained by friends, is obligated to leave cards when they accompany those friends on calls. there are certain varying conditions that govern the answer to this question. the stranger is invited to accompany the caller primarily as a matter of convenience. if the person visited is not at home, no question of card-leaving is involved--only the friend leaves cards and not the stranger. but if the hostess is found at home, and if the stranger intends to spend at least two weeks in the neighborhood, it is necessary for him, or her, to leave cards. it is not necessary for the stranger to leave cards when the visit in the neighborhood is to be a short one, and the call is entirely a matter of convenience. if no card is left, the hostess will understand that no call is expected in return, and that the stranger expects no invitations to the coming social activities in the neighborhood. sometimes a man or woman accompanies a friend or relative to the home of a stranger, for the purpose, previously arranged, of being introduced and paying a first call. here the etiquette of card-leaving is clearly defined. if the call is made on the day at home, the caller leaves his or her cards on the hall table, just as for any other first call. but if it happens to be a chance call, and the hostess is not at home, the stranger leaves cards with those of a friend. when two women pay a chance call together, and one is a perfect stranger at the house visited, no question of card etiquette arises if the hostess is not at home. but if she is at home, the stranger may pencil his or her name on the card that the friend sends up. no card is left by this stranger, unless he has been cordially entertained in the hostess' drawing-room, served with tea, and unless the hostess has expressed a desire of meeting him, or her, again. in this case, a card is left when the stranger is departing, and a return call is expected. cards and business calls the laws of social calling and card-leaving do not hold true when a business call is made. a special set of rules takes care of all business calls that the woman may make. the usage which governs the woman who is calling upon a man on a matter of business has already been described. she does not send in her card. to give her name to the attendant, stating her business, or to write both on a slip of paper provided for the purpose, is sufficient. if the business call is made on a woman who is a stranger to the other woman who is making the call, it is necessary to send in one card, inscribed with the name of the caller and a few penciled words regarding the nature of the business. or the card may be sent in with a brief word to the servant regarding the purpose of the call. two women who are on charity committees, or other committees, together, who are social equals but who do not exchange cards and calls, have a special card etiquette to follow when calling upon each other regarding matters of mutual interest on the committee. the caller sends up one of her own personal cards with a word or two explaining the object of the call. this card is left with the servant to give to the hostess if she is not at home. when a man leaves cards all the rules of card-leaving outlined for the woman who follows the dictates of social calling, may be applied to the well-bred young man--but with the following exceptions: a man never leaves the cards of any other man, nor does he assume any of the card-leaving duties incurred by the feminine members of his family. when calling on a lady's afternoon at home, the gentleman leaves one card for the hostess and one for the host on the card tray, on entering the house. whether the host is at home or not, if the caller is acquainted with him, he must leave one of his cards for him, provided that the call is being made in return for some hospitality enjoyed. if there is a young daughter in the family with whom the caller is acquainted, a third card must be left. a young man, calling at the home of a young lady, asks to see the ladies, meaning the mother or chaperon as well as the particular young lady herself. no well-mannered young man asks to see only one lady, when there are several others in the house. if the ladies are out, he may leave a sufficient number of cards for all of them, including one for the host or he may leave one card without explanation. if the ladies are in, he still leaves a card for the host on the hall table when he is departing. when making his first or last call of the season, a man may leave one card for each one of the ladies and each one of the men of the household with whom he is acquainted. this holds true only when the call is made on the day at home, or on a sunday afternoon or evening. the man who calls on a lady's day at home, and whose call has no reference to any social debts or obligations, leaves only one card--and if he is an intimate friend of the house where the call is made, he leaves no cards at all. men's social calls are few. business affairs require most of their time, and the duty of card-leaving is generally given into the hands of a feminine relative--either mother, sister or wife. married men invariably entrust their formal social duties to their wives, but single men must not take advantage of this privilege. it is all very well for a mother or sister to leave the cards of a son or brother who is busy at his office on the hostesses whose hospitality they enjoyed together. but when a young man is entertained by a hostess who is not on his mother's or sister's visiting list, it is very important for him to make his return calls in person. this is especially true in regard to dinner and ball hospitalities--they require immediate and cordial reciprocation in the matter of calls and card-leaving. the man's chance call unless the ladies are in the drawing-room, ready to receive, a man, upon making a chance call, sends up his card or cards to the people he wishes to see. if the servant who opens the door does not know whether or not the ladies are at home, or if she says that they are at home but not downstairs, the caller places his cards on the tray and waits in the drawing-room for the return of the servant. if the call is made after a ball, dinner or theater party, and the young man is calling on the young ladies of the household, he sends up a card for each young lady, and also one for the mother or chaperon. if the call is made for the express purpose of seeing one particular young lady, a card must be sent up for her and for her mother or chaperon. two cards are also required when a man calls upon a married couple, in whose name he has received some hospitality. he sends up one card for each. after having called several times at a certain house, obviously for the purpose of seeing a young lady of the family and enjoying her society, it is no longer necessary to include the chaperon in the ceremony of card-leaving.[ ] (see footnote.) one may send a card up only to the lady one wishes to see. [ ] _chaperon_ being to-day a practically obsolete term, we use it here to signify the parent or guardian most directly concerned with the social welfare of the young lady. about leaving and posting cards when an invalid, elderly lady or woman in deep mourning desires to repay by some courtesy, calls made upon her or invitations received, she may leave cards at a door instead of paying a personal call, or sending them by post or messenger. a very busy hostess may employ the same means of returning a dinner call or first call that she owes a friend or acquaintance, especially if she is desirous of extending an invitation. instead of leaving the card, she may even, for lack of time and opportunity, post it with an engraved or written invitation. a man or woman unable to accept an invitation, extended by a hostess to whom he or she is a stranger, is obligated to leave cards within two weeks after the entertainment. similarly, the guests, men and women, invited to the ceremony of a church wedding, leave cards for the bride's mother within two weeks after the wedding. even though one is a stranger to the mother, this card must be left as a matter of courtesy and social obligation. people who receive cards announcing a marriage are also expected to leave cards for the mother of the bride. a friend of the groom who is a stranger to the bride and her family, and who finds that he is unable to attend the ceremony to which he has been invited, need not pay a call, but must leave a card for the bride's mother a week or two after the wedding. other occasions requiring card-leaving are those inquiries regarding the health and condition of a friend; sympathy and good feeling in the event of some misfortune; condolence; congratulation; and upon announcing a prolonged absence from, or a reëntrance into, society. a change of address is also usually made known by means of card-leaving. [illustration: © brown bros. decorations for a wedding in a small church in a simple church such as the one pictured above the ribbon at the end of the pews may be omitted] if one is invited to an afternoon or evening reception, and finds it impossible to attend, cards should be sent either by mail or messenger, so that they reach the hostess on the day of her entertainment. if the cards are sent by hand or by post, they should be enclosed in a card envelope, sealed, and addressed to the host and hostess--provided, of course, that both of their names appear on the invitation. if the affair is in honor of some special person a card is left for or sent to that person in addition to the one for the hostess. if posted cards of regret are sent by a single woman, she includes one for the _débutante_ or for the guest of honor, in addition to the one enclosed for the hostess. the married woman adds to these two, three more of her husband's. a single man, under the same circumstances, sends three of his cards if the reception is given in honor of a _débutante_ or a guest of honor (masculine or feminine), and if the invitation was issued in the name of a host and hostess. one may send cards of inquiry, congratulation and condolence by post or messenger, only if one is indisposed, invalided, or inconveniently situated at a great distance from the persons addressed. it is always better form to pay these calls in person, and leave the cards oneself. however, the cards of inquiry, congratulation and condolence may all be acknowledged by post or messenger, as one desires. leaving cards of inquiry on one's card, the words "to inquire" or "may you recover rapidly" may be penciled when a call of inquiry regarding the health of a friend is made. during a long illness, calls by friends and acquaintances who have been in the habit of making social calls, should be made at least three times a week. by these "calls," you understand, we mean mere calls of inquiry when the card is left by the door and the patient is not seen personally. card-leaving for inquiry, condolence and congratulation is invariably made in person. before a funeral, an engraved card with a word or two of regret penciled on the right side, may be entrusted to the servant. when husbands and wives call separately or together, they leave their own individual cards. in cases of this kind, they do not leave cards for each other. but when a married couple calls to offer sympathy for the loss of a daughter or son, two of the husband's and one of the wife's cards are left. only one card each is left for a widow, as for a widower also. cards left for orphaned children are meant for the oldest, who now represents the head of the family. about two weeks after a funeral, cards are left with the mourning family, unless a special call of condolence is made. in this case, the cards are left just as though it were a social call being made. black-bordered cards are never used except by people who are themselves in mourning. a matron may leave cards for her entire family, and a sister may fulfill the duty for a busy brother. it is neither complimentary nor genuinely courteous to post a card to inquire after a friend or acquaintance who is ill. it should be left at the door in person, after asking news of the invalid's condition. a word of cheer or inquiry may be penciled below the caller's name, engraved on the card. calls of inquiry, condolence and the like are made without reference to social indebtedness, but in all other cases except among intimate friends, the convention of alternating calls should be adhered to. acknowledging calls of inquiry and condolence a large, square card in plain white or with a black border, inscribed as follows, is ideal to send to those people who called to offer sympathy and condolence during a bereavement, posted two weeks after the funeral: _mrs. robert guy mannering and family gratefully acknowledge your kind expression of sympathy upon the death of their beloved husband and father robert guy mannering._ another acceptable form frequently used to acknowledge calls of condolence before and after a funeral, is: _the family of the late john ray acknowledge with sincere appreciation your kind sympathy._ the name "john ray" may appear on the second line by itself, or it may be part of the first line as shown above, entirely according to taste or the prevalent popular custom. the address of the bereaved family should appear towards the bottom of the card, slightly to the left. it is always better form to have it printed in italics. invalids, to express gratitude for the courtesies shown them by friends, write or dictate notes of thanks immediately upon becoming well again. often a popular hostess will receive a vast number of solicitous cards and notes of inquiry during an illness, and it will be necessary for her in her still weakened state, to trust to the mails to thank the friends and acquaintances who inquired for her. she may send her ordinary visiting card, with the words, "thank you for your kind inquiries" or others to that effect, written across it. "thanks" should never be used instead of "thank you." its brevity carries a suggestion of discourtesy. announcement cards at the present time, the vogue of sending out cards announcing a death in the family, has been almost entirely discontinued in better society. instead, an announcement is inserted in the newspapers, giving particulars about the death and also the day of the funeral. it is by far a more satisfactory method. a typical newspaper announcement follows: _cole.--at whitehouse, n.j., on february , , rose emily, beloved wife of robert m. cole, succumbed to pneumonia. services at chapel, albany rural cemetery, saturday, february , at p.m._ when a betrothal takes place, announcement cards are sometimes sent out, but it is not necessary to have specially engraved cards. as a rule, the mother of the happy young bride writes notes to intimate friends and acquaintances, or inscribes the news on her visiting cards and posts them to those of her friends with whom both she and her daughter are most intimate. weddings are usually announced by means of engraved cards. the correct form for these is given elsewhere. engraved cards also announce the birth of a child. for this, one may have a tiny white card engraved with the baby's name, and attached to the mother's card with a narrow white satin ribbon. it is posted to all friends and acquaintances. in lieu of an address, which appears on mother's card, baby's card bears the date of the birth in the lower right-hand corner. the joint card of the father and mother may be used to announce the birth of a child, the full name of the infant being engraved in small letters above the names of its parents. the card announcing the birth of a child is sent by mail. immediately upon its receipt, friends and acquaintances make calls to inquire after the health of mother and child, and to leave cards for both. when one is prevented from calling--and there should always be sufficient reason for _not_ calling--one may respond to the card of announcement by posting one's own card to the mother, with congratulations penciled above the name. acknowledgment of some kind must be made promptly. when traveling to the man or woman who travels, those tiny bits of bristol board are important factors in keeping him or her in touch with the home social life left behind. when one arrives at a strange place, perhaps thousands of miles from a friend, and one intends to remain there for several weeks--or months--one's visiting cards posted to all friends and acquaintances, and bearing one's temporary address, ties one to home in a particularly pleasing way. letters follow in their wake. news of social activities reach one. and one begins to feel that after all, this strange land is not so distant! and so, if you travel, remember that as soon as you reach a place where you intend to stop for a short while, send out visiting cards to all your friends, relatives and acquaintances, and let them know your temporary address. it may be written in pencil or ink above the home address. when you change your address permanently, be sure that all your friends and acquaintances know of the change. for this purpose, the old visiting cards are the best to use; they may be sent with a line drawn through the old address, and the new written above it. a man stopping at a hotel for a week or two, and desirous of letting his friends in the vicinity know of his whereabouts, posts his cards bearing the temporary address, to all his masculine friends, and calls and leaves his card upon the women he wishes to see. a woman stopping at a hotel or resort, posts her visiting cards, with the temporary address above her home address, to all whose attention she wishes to claim,--men and women. p.p.c. cards _pour prendre congé_, it means, a french expression translated to read, "to take leave." and it is used in connection with those last-day visits before one sails for europe, or starts on a long trip to some distant place. the ordinary visiting card is used, with the letters p.p.c. written in pencil or ink in one corner, indicating the departure and so differentiating it from other cards. cards so inscribed are posted to, or left with, all friends and acquaintances, a day or two before setting out on the voyage. no acknowledgment is necessary as they are courtesy-cards with no relation whatever to one's social debts and dues. p.p.c. cards are always necessary before an extended departure, but they are particularly so when one owes calls in return for hospitality, or calls in return for first calls. if there is very little time, and a great many calls to be attended to, it is entirely correct in this case to drive from house to house, leaving the cards with the servant who opens the door. the cards may even be posted a day before the departure, if time is very much limited. it is not usual for p.p.c. cards to be distributed at the end of the season, when members of society make their regular change of residence. as explained under the head "when traveling," a visiting card may be sent to one's friends and acquaintances, bearing the temporary address above the permanent home address. thus the p.p.c. card would not be especially necessary. chapter v invitations some general rules no matter how informal, an invitation should always be acknowledged within a week of its receipt. it should be a definite acknowledgment--either an acceptance or refusal--and no doubt should be left as to whether the writer intends to be present or not. an invitation must always be answered in kind; that is, a formal invitation requires a formal reply, following closely the wording of the invitation. the informal invitation should be cordial enough to warrant a cordial and friendly reply; both invitation and acknowledgment should be free of all stilted phrasing. formal invitations for evening affairs should be addressed to husband and wife, omitting neither one nor the other. (the exception to this rule is the "stag" or its feminine equivalent.) if there is only one daughter in the family, she may be included in the invitation, but when there are two or more daughters to be invited, a separate invitation addressed to the misses brown is essential. invitations sent to the masculine members of a family, other than the husband, are sent individually. invitations sent to a husband and wife are acknowledged in the names of both. if a daughter is included, her name is also added to the acknowledgment. the wife usually answers the invitation, and although it was sent in the name of mr. and mrs. blank, she sends her acknowledgment to mrs. blank alone. an invitation may never be acknowledged on any kind of a visiting card, although a visiting card may be used in an invitation. for very large, formal functions, invitations are always engraved. a young girl does not issue invitations to men in her own name, but in that of her mother or guardian. she should say in her invitations that her mother, mrs. blank, desires her to extend the invitation to mr. brown, etc. in replying to invitations, explicit details must be given. the day of week, date and hour should be quoted, copying from the invitation, so that any discrepancy made in the invitation will be noted and corrected by the hostess when she receives the acknowledgment. this does away with any possibility of such embarrassing blunders as calling on the wrong day or at the wrong hour. only the most informal invitation should be given by telephone, by word of mouth or orally by a messenger, but every invitation should be either declined courteously or accepted with enthusiasm promptly. invitation to a formal dance the word "dancing" is usually placed in the lower left-hand corner of the invitation to denote the object of the evening's gathering; thus no specific mention that the entertainment is to be a ball is necessary. following are the most approved forms of invitations used for the very formal balls: _mr. and mrs. james kilgore request the pleasure of your company on thursday evening, january the tenth at nine o'clock dancing scarsdale_ or _mr. and mrs. james kilgore request the pleasure of ........................ company, at a costume dance to be given at their home on thursday, january the twenty-sixth at eleven o' clock costume de rigueur main street_ the words, "please reply," may be added although they should be unnecessary since every person of good breeding will reply immediately to such an invitation whether he intends to accept or refuse. accepting the invitation when the invitation to a dance bears a request for a reply, a prompt answer should be sent. if the invitation itself is in the third person, the reply should follow the same form. for a formal ball, an acceptance or regret should be mailed within forty-eight hours after receipt of the invitation. here are the correct forms for the invitations above: _mr. and mrs. john harris accept with pleasure mr. and mrs. james kilgore's kind invitation to be present for dancing on thursday evening, january the tenth at nine o'clock grand boulevard_ _mr. and mrs. john harris regret exceedingly that they are unable to accept mr. and mrs. james kilgore's kind invitation to a costume dance to be given at their home. brookline._ when the acknowledgment is a regret, it is not necessary to repeat the date and hour for the obvious reason that as long as one is not going, it makes no difference whether or not the details of time are correct. for the informal dance when the dance is a small and less formal affair, a short note is used, though the more punctilious social usage frowns upon the employment of visiting cards for such purposes. following is the correct visiting card for informal dance purposes: _mr. and mrs. harold champ at home dancing at ten maple street april the fifth_ the acknowledgment should be hand-written on white note paper, and couched in a cordial, informal manner. the dinner dance the dinner dance seems to be one of society's most favored functions. for this affair it is necessary for the hostess to issue two sets of invitations; one set to the people she wishes to entertain at dinner, and one to those whom she wishes to invite for the dancing only. the dinner invitation would be the regular engraved dinner card with the words "dancing at ten" written in the lower left-hand corner. the dance invitations would be her regular at-home cards with the words "dancing at ten" written in the lower left-hand corner. a very popular method of inviting people to informal dance parties--a method that has won favor among hostesses who are fond of inviting just a few young men and women in to dance and enjoy simple refreshment--is that of using the joint visiting card of herself and her husband and writing in the lower left-hand corner: _dancing at eleven april the fourth_ this may be written in in ink--and as an invitation the card may be used to take the place of the written invitation or the formal third-person note. the debut dance an ordinary dance invitation with the calling card of the _débutante_ included may be used for the occasion of introducing the _début_ daughter to society. a more strictly formal form follows: _mr. and mrs. charles wendover request the pleasure of introducing their daughter emily justine to ......................... on tuesday, may the third at eight o'clock merril parkway_ invitations for the subscription dance following is the correct invitation to use when the subscription dance is held in the drawing-room of a hotel. it should be engraved in script upon large white letter sheets: _the pleasure of ........................... company is requested at the third reunion at the richelieu hotel on friday evening, april the tenth from nine until one o'clock. patronesses mrs. johnson mrs. meredith mrs. mooers mrs. thompson mrs. clure_ with the invitation above, "vouchers" are invariably included. these "vouchers" are for the purpose of enabling subscribers and patronesses to extend hospitalities to their friends, but also to bar the admittance of those people who were not invited. here is the form usually used for the "voucher": _third reunion gentlemen's voucher admit ............................ on friday evening, april the tenth compliments of ..................._ to do away with the necessity of the "voucher" a card like the following is used: _third reunion .......................... the pleasure of your company is requested on tuesday, the tenth of june at eight o'clock community club forest avenue please present this card at the door._ if the invitations are issued and distributed by a committee or board of directors, instead of by private subscribers, the words: _the committee of the third reunion hilldale club kingston avenue_ appear beneath the engraving, in the left-hand corner. the proper form is to use a letter sheet, engraving the invitation on the outer face, and listing on the second inner face, the names of the men who are giving the ball. however, it is also correct to use a large bristol board card, listing the hosts on the reverse side, or on another similar card. acknowledging subscription dance invitations an invitation to a subscription ball, received in the name of the whole body of subscribers, requires a prompt acknowledgment of acceptance or denial to the address given on the card. but if a subscriber extends an invitation to a friend, enclosing with the invitation his or her own card, the answer is sent to this subscriber individually. it is usually a short, informal note, something like the following, and it may be addressed to the entire committee or merely to its chairman: _ west street, april , --_ _my dear mrs. blake:_ _it is with great pleasure that i accept your invitation to attend the third reunion of the hilldale club, on friday, the tenth of april._ _sincerely yours,_ _helen r. haddock._ invitation to public ball public balls that require purchased tickets have a very distinct kind of invitation. the following invitation should be printed or engraved on very large letter sheets or cards, giving, either on the second inner sheet or on the reverse of the card, the names of the patronesses. _the pleasure of your company is requested at the annual masquerade ball to be given at the taft hotel thursday evening january the fifth, at ten o'clock_ _cards of admission, three dollars on sale at the taft hotel and homes of the patronesses_ requesting an invitation when one is invited to an entertainment and finds it impossible to attend without a visiting guest or relative, an invitation may be requested. but a great deal of tact and good judgment must be exerted. a note of request follows, but in writing notes for your own particular instances, you must remember that each note has to be adapted to the occasion in hand. _ claremont terrace, may , --._ _my dear mrs. jolson:_ _elsie millerton, whose brother you remember was at hot springs last year when we were, is spending a few days with me. i wonder if i may bring her to your dance next thursday?_ _sincerely yours,_ _mary b. hall._ it is rarely necessary to refuse such a request as this; but if the ballroom is already too crowded and if the hostess has received a number of similar petitions she may with propriety send a brief note of refusal with a courteous word or two of explanation. the dinner invitation a dinner invitation is the highest form of courtesy. that is why it requires prompt and very courteous acknowledgment. ordinarily dinner invitations are issued ten days ahead, unless it is a very large formal affair, when two full weeks are allowed. it is not good form to send an invitation just about a day or two before the day set for the dinner-party, for then the guest will be perfectly correct in feeling that the invitation was issued to her (or him) only because some other guest was unable to attend. if there are only three or four guests informal notes are usually sent, however elaborate the dinner itself is to be. such an invitation should occupy only the first page of a sheet of note paper. dinner invitations may either be written on ordinary sheets of white stationery, or engraved on cards. if the latter is decided upon, it must be large, pure white, and of rather heavy bristol board. the hostess who gives many large and elaborate dinners may have cards like the following printed, leaving spaces for the insertion of the name of the person invited, the day, hour and date: _mr. and mrs. jeremiah knight request the pleasure of ................... company at dinner on ................ evening at ................ o'clock court street_ the words "to meet mr. and mrs. john staple" may be written in ink at the bottom of the engraved card, when the dinner is in honor of a special guest. or small cards may be printed and enclosed with the invitations. in honor of celebrated guests often, to introduce someone of distinguished position to the hostess' acquaintances and friends, a large and elaborate dinner is given. the cards should be engraved in a fine script or block letter, in the following wording: _to meet mr. and mrs. mcallister van doren mr. and mrs. john king request the pleasure of ....................... company at dinner on thursday, january the sixth at eight o'clock north avenue._ the acknowledgments for the formal invitation, written in the third person, a similar acknowledgment must be sent within twenty-four hours. following are an acceptance and a regret that may serve as suggestions for the dinner invitations that _you_ will accept and refuse in the future: _mr. and mrs. herbert thorne accept with pleasure mr. and mrs. jeremiah knight's kind invitation to dinner on friday, august the fifth at eight o'clock west drive_ _mr. and mrs. herbert thorne regret that a previous engagement prevents their accepting mr. and mrs. jeremiah knight's kind invitation to dinner on friday, august the fifth west drive_ it is not necessary to give complete details regarding time and hour, in the second acknowledgment--which is a regret. inasmuch as one does not expect to attend, it is unnecessary to pay great attention to details that are important only for those who expect to be guests. in writing regrets, it is always more courteous to give the reason for being unable to accept, but it is not important to do so unless one really wishes to. for the informal dinner the informal dinner invitation is invariably sent by the wife for her husband and herself, to the wife, including the latter's husband. the invitation takes the form of a short, friendly little social note, and is answered as such. for instance, here is an invitation to an informal dinner, and the acknowledgment: _ cosgrove avenue, november , --_ _my dear mrs. harris:_ _will you and mr. harris give us the pleasure of having you with us at a small dinner on thursday, november the eighth, at seven o'clock?_ _hoping that you will be disengaged that evening, i am_ _yours very sincerely,_ _margaret b. leanders._ you will notice that in signing herself, the wife uses her christian and married name, and the initial of her maiden name. she may spell her maiden name out, if she wishes, but the form given above is the most usual. here is the correct acknowledgment to the invitation above: _ milton street, november , --_ _my dear mrs. leanders:_ _mr. harris and i will be delighted to dine with you and mr. leanders on thursday, november the eighth, at seven o'clock._ _with kindest regards, i am_ _sincerely yours,_ _mildred travers harris._ when the dinner is not at home it happens quite frequently that a hostess gives a dinner for her friends outside of her own home. in this case, the fact must be fully noted on the invitation. for instance: _mr. and mrs. walter bruhn request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. john perry blascon's company at dinner at shanley's on wednesday, march the sixth at eight o'clock tompkins place_ the acceptance and regret would be exactly the same as the forms given previously, except that the words "at shanley's" would necessarily have to appear. the daughter as hostess it is necessary for the daughter, who is hostess in her father's house, to include his name in every dinner invitation she issues. following is a model informal invitation to dinner, issued by a young daughter-hostess: _my dear mrs. curtis:_ _father has asked me to extend an invitation to you and mr. curtis to dine with us on tuesday, april the fifth, at half-past seven o'clock. we are looking forward to your coming with a great deal of pleasure._ _cordially yours,_ _rose meredith._ in acknowledging this invitation, whether it be acceptance or regret, the answer must go to the daughter, not the father. it is discourteous and rude to receive a letter or an invitation from one person, and acknowledge it to another. postponing or canceling a dinner when it happens (and it often does!) that something unforeseen and unexpected happens to prevent one from giving the dinner for which engraved cards have been issued, the hostess must immediately dispatch, either through messenger or special delivery, short written notes canceling the engagement. the third-person formula may be used, but there must be a certain warmth in the note to avoid any semblance of indifference. and it is a mark of fine courtesy to offer the reason why the dinner has to be postponed. here are two forms that may be used: _because of the severe illness of their son mr. and mrs. john smith beg to cancel their dinner, arranged for tuesday, may the fifth_ or _mr. and mrs. john smith regret that the damages done to their home by a recent fire make it necessary for them to postpone the dinner arranged for may the fifth until may the thirtieth._ inviting a stop-gap when a vacancy occurs in a dinner party at the last moment, one may call upon a friend to fill the place as a special courtesy. this is an instance when tact and discretion are important, for not everyone is broad-minded and sensible, and some people may take offense at being asked to take the place that someone else relinquished. a short cordial note should be written, explaining the situation, and frankly asking the friend to come in the place of the invited guest who cannot be present. here, for instance, is a typical note for just such a purpose: _ hemingway place, march , --_ _my dear mr. cook:_ _i am going to ask a very special favor of you, and i know that you will be good enough to comply--if no other engagement stands in the way._ _ralph townshend, who was to have been present at a little dinner party that i am giving to-morrow evening, has just written that he has been called out of town on business. won't you be good enough to take his place and give me more reason than ever for subscribing myself_ _gratefully yours,_ _janet b. raines._ in answering this letter, mr. cook must either accept or decline definitely. to be courteous, he must give a reason for declining. to write merely and say that one cannot serve as a stop-gap is both impolite and inconsiderate. either a good reason or an acceptance must be given. here is the way the acceptance may be worded: _ emmet road, march , --_ _my dear mrs. raines:_ _i'm rather glad that ralph was called out of town, since it gives me an opportunity to be present at another of your delightful dinners. thank you very much for the invitation._ _yours very sincerely,_ _ralph b. cook._ to break a dinner engagement there is no reason to feel embarrassed and unhappy because some unexpected happening prevents you from keeping a dinner engagement. a cordial note, containing a genuine and worth-while excuse for the cancellation of the engagement may be sent by messenger, or if there is time, by special delivery post, to the hostess. here is an example of the kind of note that may be written to break a dinner engagement: _ south bend, march , --_ _my dear mrs. christy:_ _mr. cross has been called to chicago on account of the illness of his mother. we are very anxious about her, and i am sure you will understand why it is impossible for either of us to attend your dinner party next friday. with many regrets, i am_ _sincerely yours,_ _florence bartlett pitkin._ invitations for luncheons although considerably less formal than dinner invitations, those of the luncheon follow them in wording. they are issued about ten days before the day set for the luncheon, if it is to be an elaborate, formal affair, and only in the name of the hostess, unless men are invited and the hostess' husband intends to be present. they are engraved on large square white cards, with the name of the person invited, the day and hour, written in by the hostess' own hand. the correct form follows, but it must be remembered that this form can be used only when the luncheon is an elaborate, formal occasion: _mrs. john roy-thorndyke blake requests the pleasure of ....................... company at luncheon on .................... at ................. o'clock park row_ very often a hostess invites friends and acquaintances to a luncheon for the purpose of presenting to them a certain visiting guest, and perhaps to attend, after the luncheon, a matinée planned for the purpose of enabling the newcomer to become better acquainted with the hostess' friends. in this case, an invitation like the one following should be used: _to meet miss helen rhodes mrs. robert blake requests the pleasure of miss joyce's company at luncheon on tuesday, april the eleventh at one o'clock and afterward to the matinée grand concourse_ the name of the play and the theater may be included in the wording of the invitation. breakfast invitations are rarely issued, for the very good reason that formal breakfasts are very rarely given. but when they are, the wording of the invitation is identical with the wording given above for the luncheon invitations, substituting in each case the word "breakfast" for "luncheon." acknowledgments are also the same as those used for the luncheon. acknowledging the luncheon invitation a prompt acceptance or regret must be sent upon receipt of an invitation to luncheon. the following two forms are correct for use with the two invitations given above. _mrs. frank parsons accepts with pleasure mrs. john clancy blake's kind invitation to luncheon on friday, october the fourteenth at one o'clock park place_ _miss jean joyce accepts with pleasure mrs. blake's kind invitation for luncheon on tuesday, april the eleventh at one o'clock to meet miss rhodes and to go afterward to the matinée fremont avenue_ the informal invitation for the informal luncheon, a brief note of invitation is sent from five to seven days ahead. in making the note brief, one must be careful not to sacrifice cordiality. we give here two notes of invitation, one for luncheon and one for breakfast; and also their respective acknowledgments: _ washington terrace, april , --_ _my dear mrs. blank:_ _will you come to luncheon on wednesday april the twentieth, at half-past one o'clock? mrs. frank richards will be here, and i know you will be glad to meet her._ _cordially yours,_ _helen r. roberts._ _ main street, april , --_ _my dear mrs. roberts:_ _i will be very glad to come to luncheon on wednesday, april the twentieth, at half-past_ _one o'clock. it was very kind of you to remember that i have been wanting to meet mrs. richards for a long time._ _yours very sincerely,_ _justine blank._ _ fairview terrace, may , --_ _dear mrs. miller:_ _i expect a few friends to join me at an informal breakfast at half-past eleven o'clock on tuesday, the tenth. won't you be one of them?_ _sincerely yours,_ _maybelle curtis._ _ jennings street, may , --_ _dear mrs. curtis:_ _thank you very much for asking me, but i regret that i will not be able to join you at breakfast on tuesday. i have two young nieces stopping with me, and i promised to devote that morning to showing them the places of interest in town. they are planning so eagerly for the trip, and they are leaving here in such a short time, that i feel that i must not disappoint them._ _with most sincere regrets, i am_ _cordially yours,_ _mary k. miller._ there is still another approved form for inviting guests to luncheon or breakfast. when the occasion is neither too strictly formal nor too informal, the hostess may merely write, beneath the engraved name on her ordinary calling card, the words, "luncheon at one-thirty o'clock march fourth." this is sent about five days before the chosen day. the acknowledgment must be by informal note, never by a calling card. and this holds true of all other invitations; when the personally inscribed calling card is used, a first-person note of acceptance or regret must be promptly written. the use of cards in this way is looked upon with disfavor among people who are most careful of the amenities of polite society. reception invitation the word "reception" may mean several social functions which may or may not be extremely ceremonious. there is the afternoon tea, for instance, an informal little affair to which one invites one's best friends and most interesting acquaintances. the invitation may be either written by the hostess or engraved. the at-home day is also called a reception, as is the more elaborate occasion when a special guest is introduced to the hostess' friends. there was a time when it was considered extremely bad form for a host's name to appear on the invitation, but to-day the reception invitation often takes the form of the following: _mr. and mrs. harold blaine at home tuesday afternoon, may fifth from four until half-past seven o'clock twelve, park terrace_ the above invitation should be engraved in fine script on a large white card of bristol board, and it should be mailed at least ten days in advance of the day set for the entertainment. an acknowledgment is not expected; if the invitation is accepted, the presence of the guest on the day of the reception is sufficient. if one is unable to be present, one's visiting card is sent to arrive on the exact day of the reception--unless an answer is explicitly required on the invitation. not to be present at the reception, and not to send one's visiting card, is to indicate either that one is ignorant of the correct social laws, or that one desires to discontinue friendship with the hostess. when a mother and her daughter are to receive the guests at a reception together, the card is in this form: _mrs. william b. harris the misses harris at home friday afternoon, october fifth from four until seven o'clock thirty-two amsterdam avenue_ if the reception is for the purpose of introducing a young _débutante_ daughter, the hostess would issue cards similar to the one above, except that the _débutante's_ name would appear immediately below her own. it would be merely "miss harris" with no christian name or initial. if a second daughter is introduced to her mother's friends by means of an afternoon tea, the cards are also like the one above, except that the name of the second daughter is inscribed _in full_ beneath that of the hostess. thus invited guests would know that "miss harris" is the elder and introduced to society first, and "miss merian harris" is the second daughter to be introduced to society. reception in honor of a special guest when the purpose of the reception is to honor a special guest the fact should be indicated on the invitations. if the invitation is written on a card, the words, "to meet governor and mrs. frank curtis" should appear. the proper form for the engraved invitation follows: _to meet governor and mrs. frank curtis mr. and mrs. james melvin request the pleasure of your company on thursday afternoon, june fifth from four until seven o'clock eighteen, washington garden heights_ no acknowledgment other than one's presence on the day of the reception is necessary to this invitation. however, if one is unable to attend, the visiting card should be mailed so that it arrives on the precise day of the entertainment, or if an unexpected happening prevents one from attending, a messenger may be dispatched with a card in an envelope, forwarding it to the hostess while the reception is in progress. invitations to garden parties when the garden party is very formal, the invitations are engraved in black script or block lettering, on white note sheets or large white cards. the invitation is usually issued in the name of the hostess alone, and the most fashionable stationers are to-day printing cards that leave a blank space for the name of the person to be invited to be written in by the hostess. for instance: _mrs. maurice bronson requests the pleasure of ........................ company on friday afternoon may tenth from four until seven o'clock garden party holyoke, west lake_ in society, the formal garden party holds the place of an at-home held out of doors. thus the following invitation is considered the best form, better even than the form shown above, although either may be used in good taste: _mrs. maurice bronson at home friday afternoon, may tenth from four until seven o'clock garden party holyoke, west lake_ when the garden party is a small informal affair, the at-home card may be used with the words, "garden party, friday, may the tenth, from four to seven o'clock," written by the hostess in the lower left-hand corner. this method is usually for personal friends only, and it is considered bad form when the garden party is elaborate and formal. if the guest invited lives in another town, or must come from the city to the country, a small card bearing the necessary train and schedule information should be enclosed with the invitation, similar to the card explained in the chapter on wedding invitations. or the information may be lettered neatly at the bottom of the invitation itself. the form is usually: _train leaves pennsylvania station at o'clock train leaves holyoke station at . and . o'clock_ still another course is open to the hostess who wishes to give a small garden party, yet not undergo the expense and trouble of specially engraved invitations. she may write brief, friendly notes, in the first person, somewhat in the following form, and send them by post to her friends and acquaintances: _holyoke, may , --_ _my dear mrs. keene:_ _i have asked a few of my friends to have tea with me, informally, on the lawn, friday afternoon, may the tenth, at four o'clock. may i expect you also? perhaps there will be a few sets of tennis. there is a racquet waiting for you._ _cordially yours,_ _rose m. roberts._ acknowledging the garden party invitation whether the garden party invitation bears a request for a reply or not, the courteous thing to do is send an acceptance or regret at once. this is especially true when the invitation is engraved, for then one may assume that the affair is to be a large and elaborate one. the reply to an engraved invitation follows: _mr. and mrs. raymond bruce accept with pleasure mrs. bronson's kind invitation for may tenth haywood park, may second, --_ or _mr. and mrs. raymond bruce regret that a previous engagement prevents their acceptance of mrs. bronson's kind invitation for may tenth haywood park, may second, --_ in reply to a visiting card inscribed with the day and date of the garden party, a brief, polite note of acceptance or regret should be written. a similar note should be promptly written upon receipt of the informal written note of invitation. _glendale, may , --_ _my dear mrs. bronson:_ _mr. harris and i are looking forward with great pleasure in joining you on may tenth. we hope the weather will continue to be as delightful as it is now._ _cordially yours,_ _janet b. winslow._ house or week-end parties the invitation for a house or week-end party differs from any other invitation. by the week-end party we mean a visit from friday or saturday until monday. thus the invited guest knows that he is expected to arrive friday afternoon (or saturday morning) and leave monday morning. on the other hand, the house party may mean a visit of ten days or two weeks' duration, or even longer. it is necessary, therefore, for the hostess to mention specifically the date deciding the length of the visit. it is also courteous for her to mention the sports that will be indulged in and any special events planned, etc., and to send the necessary time-tables, indicating the best and most convenient trains. whether for house party or week-end party, the invitation is always a well-worded, cordial note offering the hospitalities of one's roof for the length of time indicated. we will give here one letter of invitation and its acknowledgment, which can be, perhaps, adapted to your own purposes. _pine rock, june , --_ _dear miss janis:_ _we have planned a house party as a sort of farewell before our trip to europe, and we are particularly anxious to have you join us. i hope there is nothing to prevent you from coming out to pine rock on june twenty-third and remaining here with us until the eighth of july._ _i hope to have many of your own friends with us, including jean and marie cordine, who are also planning to sail towards the end of july. mr. frank parsons and mr. and mrs. robert kingsley may be here, too, along with several others whom you do not know, but whom i am most anxious to have you meet._ _i am enclosing a time-table for your convenience, and i have checked the two trains that i believe are most convenient for you. if you take the . on tuesday you will arrive here at . , and you will be able to meet the guests at dinner at eight-thirty. there is an earlier train in the morning if you prefer it. if you let me know which train you expect to take, i will see that there is a car at the station to meet you._ _very cordially yours,_ _alice m. bevans._ _westville, june , --_ _dear mrs. bevans:_ _it was very good of you and mr. bevans to ask me to your house party and i shall be delighted to come. i shall arrive on the . train, as you suggest. it was so thoughtful of you to inclose the time-table._ _very sincerely yours,_ _helen r. janis._ if the letter were one of regret, it would be necessary for miss janis to write definitely just what was making it impossible for her to accept the invitation. it would not be correct form to write vaguely, saying that "you hope you will be able to come," or that "if you are in town you will come." no doubt must be left in the hostess' mind as to whether or not you will be present. the "bread-and-butter" letter from constant usage, the term "bread-and-butter" letter has become custom. now, upon return from a week-end or house party, it is considered necessary and, indeed, it would be a gross neglect to fail in so obvious a duty, to write a cordial note to the hostess, expressing appreciation of the hospitality received, and informing her of your safe arrival. the letter may be as long and chatty as one pleases, or it may be only a brief note such as the following: _terrace revain, june , --_ _dear mrs. bevans:_ _this is to tell you again how very much i enjoyed the week-end at pine rock. we got into the city at five and morgan brought me out home in a taxi. mother is giving a small bridge this afternoon and so i found everyone busy, for while there is not a great deal to do it is impossible to get anyone to help do it._ _tell mr. bevans that i am arranging for three or four tennis games next week, so that when i come again, if i don't win, i shall at least not be beaten quite so shamefully._ _let me know when you come to town on your next shopping trip. perhaps we can arrange for lunch together somewhere._ _very sincerely yours,_ _helen r. janis._ invitations to the theater and opera the host or hostess planning a theater or opera party should strive to have an equal number of men and women guests. for this reason, the person who receives an invitation should make prompt reply, so that if he or she is unable to attend, someone else can be asked to take the place. it is not necessary to have invitations engraved for these occasions; in fact, a brief note, written with just the correct degree of formality, yet with no sacrifice of cordiality, is much to be preferred. the following form is correct for theater or opera, changed to accord with the names, dates, and circumstances of the particular party: _ south street, october , --_ _my dear miss johnson:_ _mr. roberts and i have planned to have a small group of friends hear "faust" at the central opera house, and we are hoping that you will be one of us. the time is friday evening, the seventeenth of october. i have been fortunate enough to obtain a box in the parquet, where the eight of us who will comprise the party will be comfortably seated._ _if you are free to join us on that evening, mr. roberts and i will stop for you in the car at half past seven._ _cordially yours,_ _evelyn t. roberts._ the acknowledgment must be made promptly. the host and hostess must not be kept waiting for a definite reply. invitations to musicales and private theatricals a ceremonious drawing-room concert requires engraved invitations, issued at least two weeks in advance of the date decided upon. the two approved forms follow: _mrs. john m. cook at home tuesday evening, october first at nine o'clock ten, farnhut terrace music_ or mr. and mrs. john m. cook request the pleasure of .......................'s company at a musicale on tuesday evening the first of october at nine o'clock ten, farnhut terrace it is also permissible for the hostess to write in the lower left-hand corner of her visiting-card the following words, when she wishes to invite friends to hear a famous soloist or orchestra: "tuesday, october first, half past three o'clock, to hear mischa elman." these cards are then posted to friends and acquaintances, and the recipient either accepts by attending, or sends his or her cards to the hostess' house while the entertainment is in progress, or shortly beforehand. for private theatricals, invitations follow very much the same form as those used for musicales. the hostess may either add the phrase, "theatricals at nine o'clock," to her invitation, or she may issue engraved cards requesting the pleasure of a friend's company at private theatricals. the word "dancing" may be engraved in the left-hand corner of the card, if dancing is to follow the theatricals. it is courteous to send a reply to these invitations. children's party invitations the invitation to the child's party is the one exception to the rule of simplicity. children love color and decoration, and so etiquette very graciously permits them to have cards and invitations that boast colorful designs. for instance, in a well-known stationer's shop in new york, there are little sheets of pink note paper, in the upper corner of which is a little girl courtesying and smiling. beneath the picture the words "won't you please come to my party?" are printed in fine italics. it makes most attractive stationery for the youngsters. on stationery like that described above, mother might write in the following strain, providing the little host (or hostess) is not old enough to do the writing himself: _ blake hall, june , --_ _my dear mrs. blank:_ _harold will be seven years old on thursday, the eighteenth of june. we are planning to give a little party for his friends on the sunday following, june the twenty-first. i know he will not be happy unless little marian is present. i do hope you will let her come._ _if the nurse brings marian here at three o'clock, she will be in time for the opening game, and i will see that she arrives home safely at about half past six._ _cordially yours,_ _helen m. roberts._ a friendly note of acceptance or regret should be written promptly upon receipt of the above, and if the child is unable to attend, the reason should be given. very often, a young host or hostess has a very large and formal party, in which case the invitations must be quite as dignified and formally correct as mother's. for instance, the youngsters who entertain their friends at a small afternoon dance word their invitations in the following manner: _miss jean and master walter curran would like to have the pleasure of miss helen thompson's company at a dance at o'clock thursday afternoon, november third clover hall_ a young boy or girl just old enough to write his or her own invitations, may find some useful suggestions in the following model for a birthday party: _hanover court, october , --_ _dear elizabeth:_ _i am going to have a birthday party on saturday afternoon, the thirteenth of october, at o'clock. all of our friends from dancing school and a good many of jack's friends from his school will be here. we are planning a donkey game, and i am sure we will all have a great deal of fun. won't you come, too? i shall be very disappointed if you cannot._ _sincerely yours,_ _helen camden._ it is always wise, however, for the children to make some sort of acknowledgment of the formal engraved invitation, for it impresses upon them the importance of their social duties. invitations to a christening it is not usual for many guests to be invited to the christening of a child. but when it is made an occasion of formal entertainment, it is necessary to have engraved cards prepared and issued to friends and relatives. here is the correct form: _mr. and mrs. john b. meredith request the pleasure of your company at the christening of their son on tuesday, april second at three-thirty o'clock ten, jerome avenue_ the letter requesting a relative or friend to serve as godfather or godmother must be tactful and well-worded. it is usually very intimate, for no one with fine sensibility will ask any except a dear friend to act as godmother or godfather. such a request is much better given in person than by letter, whenever it is possible. and it requires an answer in kind. we give here one brief letter of request, and another of acknowledgment, to serve as suggestions: _ kinston road, march , --_ _dear mr. burke:_ _jack and i have both agreed that we would rather have you serve as godfather for john paxton, jr., than anyone else. we hope that you will not refuse._ _the baptism has already been arranged for four o'clock, next sunday, at st. peter's church. we hope you will be present at the church, and later at a small reception here in our drawing-room._ _with kindest regards from us both, i am_ _cordially yours,_ _amelia b. johnson._ _ woodlawn hills, march , --_ _dear mrs. johnson:_ _it will give me great pleasure to be godfather for your son. truly, i count it no small honor, and no slight responsibility. i am very eager to see young john paxton, and shall be present both at the christening and at the reception._ _with every good wish for him and for his father and mother, i am_ _sincerely yours,_ _william a. burke._ a word of special caution in answering an invitation never say "will accept." the act of writing the answer involves either the acceptance or the regret, as the case may be, and the present tense should be used. chapter vi correspondence to-day and yesterday it is customary nowadays to deplore the fact that the art of letter-writing has fallen into decay, and when we read that the entire correspondence of an engaged couple recently was carried on for two years by telephone and telegraph we are inclined to believe it. yet such is not the case. it is true that we no longer have--and for this we should be truly grateful--flowery expressions of rhetorical feeling interlarded with poetic sentiments selected from a "home book of verse," or some similar compilation, but we do have letters which are genuine and wholesome expressions of friendship. it is a gift to be able to write lovely notes of congratulation, sympathy and appreciation, and one that has to be cultivated. writing of all kinds grows perfect with practice and the large majority of people have to serve a long apprenticeship before they have mastered the gentle art of expressing themselves on paper. it is an art worth mastering even if one never has to write anything but polite social notes and letters. the letter you write from buckingham we have the following little rhyme that does full justice to the important art of letter-writing: of all those arts in which the wise excel, nature's chief masterpiece is writing well. a letter, business or social, is simply talk upon paper. and as a wise philosopher once said, "never put on paper what you would not care to see printed in the newspaper for all to read." as in everything else connected with the social world, ease is absolutely essential to the correct letter. the style must not be cramped, stilted, forced. a free and easy flow of language, simple and understandable, and with just that acceptable degree of cordiality and heartiness that makes one enjoy reading, is essential in all correspondence. and yet, letters should be written _personally_--that is, they should represent the sender. be sure, first, that you know exactly what you want to say, and how you want to say it. then put it down on paper as though you were speaking; make no pretense at being so very highly educated that you must use flowery language and poetical phrases. simplicity in form and wording is the most effective and graceful method. it is a greater mark of learning and intelligence to write a simple, ably expressed, cordial letter, than to write one that shows an obvious effort to cover, by extravagant expressions and highly figurative language, the reserve and dignity that are the foundation of all good-breeding. in the following pages it is possible for us only to give the prescribed principles of correct form, suggesting the forms and expressions to be avoided. but the true art of letter-writing rests with you--and your own personality. we would suggest that you read carefully each letter you receive, noting and remembering those expressions that most appeal to you. a good appeal is generally universal; what appeals to you in a letter you receive will appeal to others. thus you will find that personal experience in this matter will help you much more than any book that gives you only the foundation of form and style. the business letter it is interesting to find in the midst of the lament that in the twentieth century people have ceased to find time to write letters or to be courteous that the postmaster general has rescinded previous orders which directed that departmental correspondence should not begin with the ceremonial form of "my dear sir," and that the complimentary close, "yours sincerely," etc., should not be used. his order is worth quoting: "in no part of our work does the demand for the human quality apply more than in the matter of writing letters. by far the largest contact of this department with the public is by means of the letters which are written. letters can be cold, stereotyped, following the same routine day by day, appearing more or less machine made, and the impression which the recipient has upon reading the letter is that the suggestion, complaint, petition or application made has been given scant consideration. "i want every letter that goes out from this department or any of the post offices or other field offices to convince the reader of the fact, for it must be a fact, that whatever he has written has been received sympathetically and that an effort has been made to give the writer the benefit of every possible service which the department affords. "to this end i think the writers should endeavor to make their letters more informal than is now the case generally; that they should, wherever the exigencies of the case do not require otherwise, be as explicit as possible, and that reasons for the position taken by the department should be given. above all, i do not want the letters to be stereotyped." a business letter is written with a purpose. it is a good letter when it accomplishes that purpose briefly, thoroughly, and courteously. women especially should be careful not to be discursive. business men have not time to puzzle over bad handwriting or ambiguous sentences. whenever it can be done conveniently the business letter should be written on the typewriter. tinted stationery is never appropriate, and ruled stationery should never be used either for business or social correspondence. the correct form for the salutation of a business letter includes the name and address of the person or firm to whom the letter is written as well as the ceremonial form of salutation. thus: bradford and munro, fifth avenue, new york city, n.y. gentlemen: (or dear sirs or my dear sirs) mrs. h. k. weatherly, secretary of the citizens' league, smithville, arkansas. dear mrs. weatherly: (or dear madam or my dear madam) except when it is the first word of the salutation, _dear_ should not begin with a capital letter. the address in the salutation should be repeated exactly on the envelope and particular care should be taken to make it legible. the stamp should always be placed in the upper right-hand corner. it is bad form to put it on obliquely or upside down or to place it in the left-hand corner or on the back flap of the envelope. it is a silly practice to do so and causes the postal clerks a great deal of trouble. function of the social letter there are, necessarily, several kinds of letters, the three most important divisions of which are the friendly letter, the business letter, and the social letter. in its strictest sense, the social letter is written for a distinct social purpose--usually about, or in response to, some purely social circumstance. the difference between a friendly letter and a social letter is relatively the same as the difference between a strictly formal and a friendly informal visit. to write a friendly letter, one simply writes what one feels, heeding no very stringent rules regarding letter-writing. but the social letter-writer finds that there are certain forms that must be carefully observed, if his or her letters are to be considered entirely correct. there are two distinct forms of the social letters--the formal and the informal. the formal social note is used only for invitations, announcements and their respective acknowledgments. it is always written in the third person, and always requires an answer. even though it is sent to the most intimate friend, the formal note remains formal; although later a friendly letter may be sent to remove any possible constraint or "chill." the informal note has no definite formula, except that it can be generally compared to all the informal trend of correct social usage. the first person is used in the writing of informal notes. whether formal or informal, the social note always bears the name of the person to whom it is addressed. to illustrate, when writing socially to mrs. joselyn, one does not use the expression, "dear madam," but "dear mrs. joslyn." in america the form "my dear" is considered a trifle more formal than just "dear," although in england the reverse is true. "dear madam" and "dear sir" are forms reserved exclusively for use with business letters. the etiquette of stationery the well-known proverb may well be changed to read, "a man is known by the stationery he uses." there is no greater opportunity to show good taste--or bad--than in the tone, design and type of note paper we use. it is as effective an index to one's individuality as are the clothes we wear. just as in everything else, there are new fashions in the sizes, forms and general appearance of social correspondence each season. invariably, the new form is an improvement on the older and more stilted form. however, there are slight changes, and the general rules of correct correspondence remain unchanged from year to year. a good stationer is the best authority in regard to the minor modifications that come each new season. the _outré_ in everything pertaining to good social usage is offensive to good taste. thus, those who are refined and well-bred avoid such startling color combinations as deep purple paper inscribed with white ink. of course, by its very daring, such a letter would gain immediate attention. but the impression made would be one of poor taste and eccentricity, rather than the striking personality the writer doubtless tried to convey. let us, then, avoid all fads in size and color of social stationery letter and note paper plain, unruled sheets, either white or light gray in color, and folding once into their envelopes are the approved materials for all social correspondence. black ink should always be used--violet, blue or purple expresses extremely bad taste. there are, of course, many varying qualities of note paper, depending entirely upon the means and preferences of the individual. some manufacturers are to-day issuing delightful stationery in delicate tones of gray, blue and buff, and it is necessary to mention here that there can be no objection to note paper of this kind. it is only bad taste to use paper of vivid red, yellow or green--so glaring in color that it is conspicuous. colored borders on stationery are in poor taste, as are also heavy gilt edges. paneled stationery and that with the deckle edge are both very lovely and in excellent taste, if the color is subdued or pure white. and to be conspicuous is to be ill-bred. the complete text of a formal note must appear on the first page only. thus, a good size for a woman's social correspondence stationary is four and a half inches by six inches, although it may be slightly larger than that for general correspondence. then there are the very small sheets used merely for a few words of condolence or congratulation. the size of stationery for men's social correspondence varies, but it is usually a trifle larger than a woman's note paper. a man never uses small sheets of paper, nor may he conduct social correspondence upon business or office paper. it is only when private stationery is not easily available, and a letter must be immediately mailed, that club or hotel paper may be used for social correspondence. letter paper and envelopes should be of the same color and of about the same material. we say "about" for, when the note paper is very thin, a slightly thicker paper should be used for the envelope. incidentally, very thin paper is objectionable for social correspondence when both sides of the sheet are written upon. some women like to use perfumed paper for their social correspondence. while it is not exactly bad form to use perfumed stationery, a very strong fragrance is most objectionable. thus only the most delicate of perfumes may be used. the use of perfumes for men's stationery is entirely discountenanced. crests and monograms just as the gaudy frills and furbelows of the dress of queen elizabeth's era have disappeared, so have the elaborate crests, seals and monograms of earlier social stationery gradually given way to a more graceful and dignified simplicity. originality may be the possession of those who can attain it, but it must always be accompanied by simplicity of style. gorgeous monograms are not desirable. if used at all--and very few even of our proud and aristocratic families _do_ use them--they should be decorative without being elaborate. a good stationer should be consulted before one determines upon a monogram. his taste and knowledge should direct the ultimate choice. monograms and crests should not appear on the envelope, only on the letter paper. seals may be stamped wherever one wishes on the back of the envelope, although the most fashionable place is in the direct center of the flap. on mourning stationery, black wax is permissible for the seal; red, blue or any dark color may be used on white or light gray paper. care should be taken in dropping the hot wax and pressing the seal, for nothing is so indicative of poor taste as an untidy seal on the envelope of a social letter. a seal should not be used unless it is actually needed. it is bad form to use it in addition to the mucilage on the flap of the envelope unless the mucilage is of a very poor quality. a monogram or crest is placed in the center at the top of the page when no address is given. it should be omitted entirely when the address appears at the top of the page. the space occupied by a crest or monogram should not cover more than the approximate circumference of a silver dime. a crest is usually stamped in gilt, silver, black, white or dark green. vivid colors must be avoided. when an address is engraved on a sheet of paper the chest or monogram should be omitted. the stationery of a country house frequently has the name of the place in the upper right hand corner with the name of the post office or railroad station opposite. authors sometimes have their names reproduced from their own handwriting and engraved across the top of the paper they use for their business correspondence. the most fashionable stationery to-day does not bear crests or monograms or seals, but the address engraved in gothic or roman lettering in the upper center of note and letter sheets, also on the reverse side of the envelope. black ink, of course, is used. use of the typewriter having invaded and conquered the business world, the typewriter has now become a social necessity. personal typewriters, made in portable sizes, are now being used for social correspondence, although many conservative people prefer to remain loyal to the use of the old pen and ink method. yet, when the best handwriting is often illegible and hard to read, a modern invention so necessary as the typewriter should be hailed with delight and used with enthusiasm. there still may be a few "extremists" and etiquette fanatics who insist that typewritten letters are for business purposes only, and that they are an insult when used socially. prevalent custom to-day permits typewritten correspondence for nearly every occasion, and the well-typed social letter reflects better taste upon the sender than a hand-written letter that is difficult to read--and yet took a much greater length of time to write. social letters, whether hand or typewritten should not be on ordinary commercial paper. the letter written on the machine should have a wide margin at the top, bottom and sides. signatures to a typewritten letter, social or business, should be made personally, in ink. regarding the salutation it is only in cases of extreme formality that the expression "dear madam" or "dear sir" is used. for ordinary social correspondence, the salutation is either "dear mr. (mrs.) roberts" or "my dear mr. (mrs.) roberts." the use of "my dear" is considered more formal than merely "dear," except in england where the first form is considered the more intimate. the form "dear miss" or "dear friend" may be used on no condition whatever. it is either "dear miss wimberly" or "dear madam." it is considered presumptuous, in good society, for a man to address a lady as "dear mrs. brown" until she has first dropped the formal "my" in her correspondence with him. the strictly formal method for addressing a letter to a man by a woman who is a total stranger to him, is: "mr. john d. brown, "dear sir." if he is a distant relative, addressed for the first time, or the friend of a very intimate friend, the salutation may read, "my dear mr. brown." closing the letter the endings "very truly yours" or "yours truly" express a certain formality. friendly letters are closed with such expressions as, "yours most sincerely," "cordially yours," "very affectionately yours," "lovingly yours." the latter two expressions are confined largely to intimate friends and relatives, while the others are used when letters are written to new acquaintances or casual friends. the pronoun _yours_ should never be omitted, as it leaves the phrase unfinished and is not complimentary to the person addressed. thus, closings, such as "very truly" or "sincerely" are in bad form. always remember in social letter-writing, to make a "graceful exit." an awkward sentence in closing often mars what would otherwise be a perfect letter. forget certain strained expressions that remain in the mind and demand to be used as closings, merely because they have been used by so many people, over and over again. make the farewell in your social letters as cordial and graceful as your farewell would be if you were talking to the person, instead of writing. such kind expressions as "with kindest personal regards" or "hoping to have the pleasure of seeing you soon" or "with best wishes to your dear mother and sisters" always add a note of warmth and cordiality to the social letter. these should be followed by "i am." it is not considered good form to end a letter, _hoping to hear from you soon, yours sincerely,_ but it should be _hoping to hear from you soon, i am yours sincerely,_ no comma is used after "am." it is not good taste to use only the initials, the surnames or given names alone, or diminutives, when signing notes or letters except when they are addressed to one's most intimate friends. a married woman signs her self ellen scott, not mrs. guy scott, in social correspondence. often, in business letters, when the recipient would be in doubt as to whether or not the lady were to be addressed as mrs. or miss, the conclusion to the letter should be in this form: _yours truly, ellen scott (mrs. guy scott)_ an unmarried woman signs her letters "margaret scott," unless it is a business communication and she is liable to be mistaken for a widow. in this case, she precedes her name by the word miss in parentheses. the first and last names of the man writing the letter must be given in full, and if there is a middle name, either the initial or full spelling may be given. but such a signature as j. ferrin robins is bad form. it is both undignified and confusing to sign a letter with one's christian name only, unless one is a relative or very intimate friend. a woman never signs her christian name alone in a letter to a man unless he is a relative or her _fiancé_ or a very old friend of the family. addressing the envelope although there is a distinction in england regarding the use of "mr." and "esq.," both forms are optional here in america. either one may be used in good form. but to omit both, and address a man just as "walter j. smith" is exceedingly rude and bad taste. neither should "esq." and "jr." be used together in this manner, "walter j. smith, esq., jr." the correct form would be "walter j. smith, jr." a servant would be addressed merely as walter j. smith, without any title. "mrs." or "miss" must invariably precede the name of a woman on an envelope unless she is a professional woman with some such title as "dr." a woman does not assume her husband's honorary title; thus, it is not good form to address an envelope in this manner: "mrs. captain smith" or "mrs. judge andrews." a practicing woman physician is addressed in this fashion, when the communication is professional: "dr. ellen r. blank." this form is not used in social correspondence, except in the case of a very famous, elderly physician who is entitled to the honorary title at all times. otherwise this form is used when the communication is social: "miss ellen r. blank" or "mrs. john t. blank." letters of condolence letters of condolence should never be written, unless the writer has been genuinely moved to sympathy. for that reason, they are usually forthcoming only from relatives and intimate friends of the bereaved family. a letter of sympathy should be brief and cordial. those pretentious letters that are filled with poetic quotations and sentimental expressions are not genuinely sympathetic, and those that refer constantly to the deceased are unkind. a few well-chosen words of sympathy are all that is necessary. following are two model letters of condolence, that may be used as basic forms for other letters: _new york, august th._ _dear miss curtis:_ _i hasten to offer you my most profound sympathy for the great grief that has fallen upon you and your house-hold. if there is anything i can do, i hope you will not hesitate to call upon me._ _cordially yours,_ _harriet b. wainwright._ _philadelphia, may th._ _my dear mrs. andrews:_ _knowing as i do from my own experience how deep your grief must be i also know that there is little that anyone can say or do to make your sorrow any the less. yet i cannot refrain from offering my sincerest sympathy, and along with it the hope that time, which softens all things, will make even this easier to bear._ _believe me, most sincerely yours,_ _lillian m. roberts._ acknowledging a letter of condolence mourning or white paper is always used when answering a letter of condolence, except when the engraved cards of acknowledgment are sent. these are severely plain, and the message is always brief. often they are sent in the name of the entire family, as: _mr. and mrs. john hall hammond gratefully acknowledge your expression of sympathy upon the death of their daughter. june , ._ this is certainly the easiest way for the bereaved to express their gratitude, though simple notes of thanks may be sent instead of the more formal card. etiquette of the friendly letter it is often a moot question among friends as to who shall write the first letter. generally speaking, it is the one who has gone away rather than the one who remains behind who writes first, though among good friends there is no more necessity to count letters than there is to count visits. the writer knew a college girl who, when she came home, decided to wait before writing and see how many of her friends cared enough for her to write to her. she was rather gratified by the result but if each girl who came away from the school had arrived at the same decision the situation would have been a very queer one, to say the least of it. a young lady who has gone away may send a card or write a brief note to a gentleman but if he is the one who has departed she should not write to him until she has received a letter from him. some people may feel that a discourse on friendly letters has no place in a book on social intercourse. but we feel that social success is just as largely dependent upon one's simple friendships as it is upon highly extravagant social activities, and therefore it is necessary to know something about the friendly letter. the salutation in a friendly letter should always be "dear mary" or "dear miss jones." the text of the letter should be written with ease, and instead of a long list of questions (as some letter-writers delight in using), bits of choice news of the day, interesting personal experiences, and the like should be disclosed. as elizabeth myers in her book "the social letter," says: "the friendly letter is our proxy for a little _tête-à-tête_, telling of the personal news of the day, and should be as extemporaneous as daily speech. such letters are given free scope and it would be as bootless to dictate rules as it would be to commit a monologue to memory prior to a friendly visit." unless you are very intimate with a friend, and your letter contains "identifying" news, do not sign yourself merely with your christian name. there are many marys, and johns and harolds; and a letter signed with the full name is as cordial as one which gives only the baptismal name. there is an old latin proverb, "_litera scripta manet_," meaning "the written letter remains." a very pretty sentiment is attached to this one short sentence. it means not only that the letter itself remains, but that the thoughts contained in that letter, the kind, unselfish, pretty thoughts of friendship, remain forever in heart and mind of the person for whom it was intended. when you write to your friends, make your letters so beautiful in form and text, that they will be read, re-read, and cherished a long time after as a fond memory. it will be a big step on the road to social perfection. another point to be kept in mind is that nothing should be written in a letter that one would not be willing for almost anyone to see. letters sometimes travel far, and one can never be altogether sure into what hands they may fall. the child's letter the sooner the child is taught to take care of his or her own personal correspondence, the sooner he or she will become perfect in the art of letter-writing. the little ones should be taught early the significance of the correct letter, the importance of correct social correspondence. their duties at first may be light, and guided entirely by mother's suggestions; but the youngsters will soon find keen pleasure and enjoyment in creating letters themselves. here are a few letters that might have been written by children between the ages of seven and twelve. they are not offered as model letters, for children have a great deal more personality than grown-ups, and they must get that personality into what they write; otherwise the letter will be strained and unnatural. do not be too critical of their first efforts. pass over mistakes, and let the letter sound as if the child and not you had written it. at the same time teach them to be careful. with a very small bit of diplomacy the child can be brought to take great pride in a letter which he wrote "with his own hand." and don't make the children say things that they do not want to. protect them from the petty insincerities of social life as long as possible. _dear aunt may:_ _thank you ever so much for the pretty doll. i have named her may. mother thinks she is very pretty but tom does not. tom does not like dolls. he plays with the dog and his tops and marbles nearly all the time. the dog's name is mike. he is black. i like him lots. we are going to have strawberry ice cream sunday. i wish you could be here. i would give you a big plate full._ _please come to see me soon._ _your loving niece,_ _helen._ _dear uncle frank,_ _i have a box of paints. i painted a dog and a soldier this morning. the soldier has on a red coat. the dog is a pointer. my dog is a rat terrier named jack. he caught a big rat this morning in the barn. mother says she thinks he has been eating the chickens. school will be out in a week. i will be glad. mother says she will not. i know how to swim. there is a creek near here. the water is over my head in one place. i am going fishing one day next week. i caught two perch last time i went._ _your nephew,_ _john._ _dear grandma:_ _i wish you a very happy birthday, and i hope that you will like the present i sent you. mother says that she will take me to see you soon. i wish she could take me to-day._ _your loving grandchild,_ _mabel._ letters to persons of title a certain set of definite rules is prescribed for all communication with titled people. the general rules given for ordinary social correspondence are not the same for persons of title, and as each executive, dignitary and man or woman of royal blood requires special address, it will be necessary to incorporate them into a compact scale that can be easily referred to. at the end of this volume is a scale giving the opening, closing and address, formal and informal, for every person of title. chapter vii parents and children the home the home is the unit of our social life, and just as the whole can be no greater than the sum of its parts so the standard of behavior in a community can be no higher than the sum of the standards in the homes that make up that community. if in the home one observes strictly the rules of politeness, which means kindness, one will have very little trouble with the rules of etiquette, which is simply the way politeness finds expression in our intercourse with each other. minor canons of etiquette change from time to time but good manners are always the same, and never out of fashion. appearance of the house obviously a book on etiquette cannot go into the problems of interior decoration; yet a word or two will not be out of place. the influence of one's surroundings on one's temper is enormous though the person may be unconscious of the fact. a disordered room gives a feeling of depression and hopelessness to the one who enters it while one that is tidy tends to impart a feeling of restfulness. if in addition to its neatness it is furnished in harmonious colors--and one cannot be too careful of the colors that are used in the home--in subdued tones it will contribute much more to the peace and happiness of the home than even those who live there realize. it will not eliminate bad tempers or do away with disagreeable moments but it will certainly help to reduce them to a minimum. dress in another volume in the chapter on funerals we have spoken of the influence of dress, especially of the influence of the constant presence of black on young children. this is only one small phase of a very big subject. in the home the chief requisite of one's dress is neatness. a man will find it much easier to accord the little courtesies of well-bred society to his wife if she is neatly and becomingly dressed, however simple the gown may be, than if she is slatternly and untidy. the children also will find it much easier to love, honor and obey if their parents give a reasonable amount of time to taking care of their personal appearance. it is not the most important thing in life but it is one of the little things "that of large life make the whole" and one that has much to do with making it pleasant or unpleasant. in one of o. henry's stories a little girl down on chrystie street asks her father, "a red-haired, unshaven, untidy man sitting shoeless by the window" to play a game of checkers with her. he refuses and the child goes out into the street to play with the other children "in the corridors of the house of sin." the story is not a pretty one. six or seven years later there is a dance, a murder and a plunge into the east river. and then the great short story writer says that he dreamed the rest of the story. he thought he was in the next world and "liz," for that was the girl's name, was being tried for murder and self-destruction. there was no doubt but that she had committed the crimes ascribed to her, but the verdict of the officer in the celestial court was, "discharged." and he added, "the guilty party you've got to look for in this case is a red-haired, unshaven, untidy man, sitting by the window reading, in his stocking feet, while his children play in the streets." it is not so much that dress in itself is important but that it is an index to so much else, and while it is not an infallible one it is about as near right as any we have. dress for children there can be nothing quite so humiliating to a child as to be dressed in an outlandish fashion that renders him conspicuous. some mothers, delighting in the attractive clothes that they buy for their children, do not realize what havoc they are causing to the tastes of the child. a little boy should be dressed like a little boy, and he should be allowed to develop his own tastes in the selection of his suits and blouses. a little girl should by all means be allowed to make her choice of the clothes she is to wear, guided by mother's superior knowledge and experience. but to force a child to wear a garment against which its very soul revolts, is to crush whatever natural instincts the child may have for the beautiful and artistic. it is sad to see a child fretting uncomfortably in a suit that is too tight, or a huge sailor hat that laps down over the eyes. simple, comfortable clothes are the best for children, but they should be excellent material. rather give the child one dress of excellent material and workmanship, than two that are faulty and inferior. teach her to appreciate material and she will always prefer quality to gaudiness. children and development it is not enough to give children the material things of life. there are some things that money cannot buy, and this thing we call "culture" is one of them. it is a part of the heavy responsibility of parents to lead the children in their charge into the paths of right thinking and right living and the task should be a joyous one. for every child born into the world has infinite possibilities and at its very worst the task is illumined by the ray of hope. even the ugly duckling became a swan. know your children! make that your first commandment in your plan of child-nature. know your children! and by "knowing" we do not mean their faults, their likes and dislikes, their habits. know their ambitions, their little hopes, their fears and joys and sorrows. be not only their advisors and parents, but their _friends_. in his book, "making the most of children," la rue says: "we may say there are four kinds of parents,--spades, clubs, diamonds and hearts." the spade parent, he explains, is buried in his work, eager only to clothe attractively the body of the child, but willing that the soul go naked. the club parent is engrossed in social activities; the father with his clubs and sports, the mother with her dinners and entertainments. the diamond parents love glitter and ostentation. they must seem wealthy and prosperous at all cost. they devote their time and thoughts to their home and outward appearance--they never think about _knowing_ their children. but the heart parent, la rue tells us, is the man or woman who is essentially a home maker. he provides a library for the child, a cozy room, an environment that is truly _home_. and he spends time with him, learning all about his hopes and ambitions, encouraging him, teaching him. he knows the child; and the child knows that he has a friend upon whom to depend not only for material comforts but for spiritual advice and guidance. you must know your children, before you can attempt to make them well-mannered and well-bred. imitation the strongest force that enters into the molding of children's character and deportment is the character and deportment of their own parents. youngsters cannot find the beautiful gift of good manners in some unknown place; whatever they do and say is in imitation of something they heard their elders do and say. the whole life of a man or woman is colored by the environment and atmosphere of his or her early childhood. children should not be taught "party manners." if they are to be well-bred at all, they must be so at all times; and ill-bred parents can no more have well-bred children than an oak tree can have pine needles. and the chief beauty of perfect manners is that they are so habitual as to be perfectly unconscious. of great importance, therefore, is the law of teaching by example. show the children that you yourself follow the laws of good conduct and courtesy. whether guests are present or not, let your table etiquette be faultless. address everyone, and especially the children themselves, with studied courtesy and thoughtfulness. a well-bred child is known immediately by his or her speech; and when courtesy and gentle, polite conversation is the rule in the home, it will follow as the night the day that it will be the rule elsewhere. parents invariably feel embarrassment at the ill-manners and lack of courtesy on the part of their children. they would often be able to avoid this embarrassment if they realized that it was simply their manners and lack of courtesy in the home, an indication that they themselves neglect the tenets of good breeding. the child's speech it is a very grave mistake to repress constantly the speech of children. but it is necessary that they should be taught early the true value of conversation, instead of being permitted to prattle nonsense. an excellent training is to converse with the child when you are alone with him, drawing out his ideas, giving him "food for thought," telling him interesting stories and watching his reactions. in addressing elders the child should know exactly the correct forms to use. for instance, it is no longer considered good form for anyone except servants or tradespeople to use the expressions "yes, ma'am," and "yes, sir." still there is some deference due parents and elders, and the correct method of address is, "yes, mother," or "no, father," or "thank you, mr. gray." the manner of the child is just as important as the form of expression; a courteous, respectful manner should always be used towards elders. contradictions are unbecoming in children. yet the young girl or boy must be entitled to his or her own opinion. if something is said with which he does not agree, and if he is taking part in the conversation, he may say, "i beg your pardon, but...." or, "i really think you are making a mistake. i think that...." at the table the final test of good manners comes at the table. remembering this the parents should lay special stress on this part of a child's training, so as to make his manner of eating as natural as his manner of breathing. and one is almost as important as the other. there are no particular rules for children beyond those which older people should follow and these are given further on in this volume. children are really little men and women and their training is all for the purpose of equipping them to live the lives of men and women in the happiest and most useful way possible. a child should never seat himself until those older than he are in place though even this should not be ostentatious. as soon as the mother or whoever is presiding at the table indicates that it is time for them to be seated they all should take their places almost simultaneously. disparaging comments on the food are ill-bred. unpleasant incidents should be passed over lightly whether they take place in the intimacy of the home circle or in a more formal gathering. the conversation should be agreeable. quarreling, nagging, gossiping, scandal-mongering, and fretting are absolutely taboo. playmates we have already said that children catch their manners from the people about them. this is as true of their playmates as of their parents and when the child is in school nearly all day and playing out somewhere the rest of the time except during the evening when he is at home studying it is perhaps even more so. the most rigid discipline and the most loving care will not prevail against the example of tom, dick, or harry, if these three have been allowed "to run wild." there is a glamor about lawlessness even among children. this should be kept in mind by their parents, and while they should be placed, insofar as it is possible, among desirable playmates, there should not be too stern repression. for this may stifle development, it may breed sullenness, or it may engender rebellion. there are too many parents to-day who try to bring up their children "by the rule." there is no rule. each child is a law unto himself and the best way the mother or father can learn to take care of him is to study the youngster himself. instead of the swaggering playmate or one that is otherwise undesirable the parent should offer something better. of course, he should be his child's friend and counselor as well as his parent, but the wisest and most lovable parent that ever lived could not satisfy all the longings and desires of the child's heart. he needs companionship of his own age. the constant friction among playmates is the best way in the world to rub away sharp corners and rough places. games, books, music, toys, friends--carefully chosen, these are the most important elements which enter into the molding of the child's life and are therefore the ones to which greatest attention should be given. children's parties a party is something that the average child looks back upon with pleasure for a long, long time. there is no more pleasant way of inculcating a feeling of genuine hospitality or of bringing about an easy manner in the drawing-room than through allowing children to have parties and giving them a large share of the responsibility for making them successful. the mother should superintend everything but she should consult and advise the child about favors, refreshments, etc. the most attractive invitations are those which the youngster himself writes. charming designs may be had from the stationers with blank spaces to be filled in by the person sending them. this makes the child's task delightful as well as simple. until he is old enough to write, his mother pens his invitations. rarely are engraved invitations used for a children's affair. the invitation may be addressed to the child or to its mother and since parties for little people are usually very informal the invitation should be informal also. the following shows a form which is sometimes used: _dear mrs. grant,_ _i am having a little party for some of julian's friends thursday afternoon and am so anxious for mary to come. if you will send her about four o'clock i will see that she gets back home around six._ _cordially yours,_ _agnes k. marshall_ if the invitation is addressed to the child it might be worded something like this: _dear mary,_ _julian is planning to have a little party thursday afternoon and he wants you to come about four o'clock. tell your mother that we will see that you get home about six. we both want you very much._ _cordially your friend,_ _agnes k. marshall._ birthday parties are usually held in the afternoon between three and six. older children, those of the sweet sixteen age, may have parties from four to seven, or eight o'clock. hallowe'en, new year and st. patrick's day parties for little tots, are invariably in the afternoon. mother should arrange for sufficient interesting games to keep the youngsters amused and entertained; and it always adds greatly to the fun, if a little prize is offered for the winner of each game. parties and ice-cream, of course, go hand in hand. sweets, cakes and fruit usually accompany the ice-cream. sometimes hot chocolate and wafers are served to the youngsters. at the birthday party, the inevitable birthday cake is usually cut and served by the young host or hostess. mother must not forget the candles, "one for each year and one for good measure." the refreshments at young folks' parties are usually served at or about four o'clock. it is most essential to have a sufficient number of amusements planned to keep the children entertained every minute of the time. they cannot be trusted to take care of themselves especially if the party is a mixed one. the hostess must also be careful not to have the games so active as to tire the youngsters out and she must be sure that the refreshments are wholesome. it is no very small undertaking to give a successful children's party but the reward is great enough to make it worth while. planning surprises the two important rules of children's parties may be analyzed briefly as: simplicity and a surprise combined with suspense. suspense is especially important; children have impatient little souls and when they are promised some strange and vague surprise, they are delighted beyond measure, and spend the time awaiting it with keen delight and expectation. the surprise may consist of a huge jack horner pie, filled with pretty souvenirs. it may be a brownie party, with cunning little brownie hoods and caps previously prepared for the young visitors. it may be any one of a thousand gay, simple, childhood games that youngsters delight in. to offer a prize for the winner always arouses keen interest in the game. receiving the young guests at children's parties, the hostess stands in the background cordially seconding the welcomes extended by her little son or daughter. when everyone has arrived, the young host or hostess leads the way into the dining-room and the dinner. after the dinner there will be games until it is time to leave. the wise hostess will see that all fragile bric-à-brac and expensive furniture is well out of the way before the children come. and she will see that as soon as a game is becoming too boisterous, or too tiresome, another is suggested. there must be variety to the entertainment for children grow weary very quickly. about the birthday party if the party is in honor of a child's birthday, an effort should be made to make it as festive as possible. the birthday flower, whatever it happens to be, should be given prominence. the table should have an attractive floral centerpiece, and must be as well-laid as the correctly formal dinner-table of the older folks. it is customary for the guests to bring a gift for the child, but lately it has been forbidden by some parents. there is no reason to forbid it, however, as the custom is a pretty one and the gifts are usually trifling. and it is as amusing as it is pleasing to watch how proudly and importantly the young visitor bestows his gifts upon his comrade. the birthday cake holds the place of honor on the table. around the edge of it, in small tin holders, are candles--one for each year the child has thus far celebrated. one candle is blown out by each little guest, and with it goes a secret wish of happiness for the boy or girl whose birthday it is. some parents do not wish to run the risk of accidents caused by burning candles. in this case, it is pretty to have the icing on cake represent the face of a clock, with the hour hand pointing to the hour which indicates the child's age. very often when the slices of birthday cake are distributed, tiny gifts are presented with them. when the young guests leave a problem which the hostess of children's parties invariably meets, is how to get the children home safely. undoubtedly, the parents of the young children should provide some means of having them escorted home safely after the party; the duty should not be allowed to devolve upon the hostess. if the children are older, of high-school age, the young boys may be trusted to escort the girls to their homes. when children are very young they have no idea when to leave. the hostess may say, "let us have one more game before you start for home, children," and immediately proceed to explain what the game shall be, impressing it upon them that they are expected to leave for home as soon as it is over. or she may suggest a final grand march which the youngsters will no doubt enter into whole-heartedly--and the march may lead into the room where their wraps are waiting. there is nothing quite as beautiful and gratifying as a group of laughing, happy children; and the hostess who has attained this may indeed feel repaid for her trouble. children are easy to please, too. something absurd, something the least bit out of the ordinary, something queer or grotesque, is bound to win their immediate applause no matter how simple and inexpensive it may be. and strangely enough, the hostess who manages to bring the sunshine and merriment into the hearts of her young guests, feels young and childish herself for the time being--and the feeling is one of such utter delight and happiness that it is well worth the effort. children's entertainments away from home there are many delightful ways of entertaining children away from home, and out-of-door parties are especially wholesome. motion pictures parties for children that are old enough are very pleasing if the picture is a good one. this is a point that should be carefully attended to beforehand. it is no time to "take a chance." at the party out in the woods or down by the bank of the creek refreshments should consist of picnic fare. the motion picture party or the matinée party might be followed by ice-cream or by a simple dinner. but however many of these entertainments one may give one must remember that there is after all not a great deal of art in amusing people when the amusements are furnished by someone else, and also that the art of entertaining charmingly at home is perhaps the greatest art of them all. children and dancing the dancing school teaches the youngster a great deal more than merely a few dancing steps. from no other source is it possible for the young boy or girl to acquire the grace, the poise, the charm of manner that the dancing school imparts. the writer knows a very lovely young miss of twelve years, who has so charming a manner that one delights to be with her. yet, her parents confide, that two years ago she was so nervous and fidgety that they were ashamed to take her anywhere. they attribute her present grace and ease to her lessons at dancing school. there is no reason why boys should not also be registered at the dancing school. a young man who, in childhood learned the little formalities of the dancing school, will not be likely to feel ill at ease in the formal drawing-room, or at the elaborate dinner. he will know how to conduct himself without embarrassment or self-consciousness. in training our children's manners and speech, we must not forget that their physical development is most important. etiquette requires that the child know, not only how to act at the table, how to greet visitors and how to be well-behaved and mannerly, but also how to _appear_ polite and polished. dancing gives them just the right foundation for grace and courtesy of manner. a word to parents in your hands has been placed the destiny of a child, or of children, to be molded, developed and formed into a perfect being. do not make the mistake that so many parents make--the mistake of thinking that the child is a miniature of yourself, a pocket edition of yourself as it were. you have certain tastes, habits, hopes and desires cultivated through years of experience and education. the child has a young mind to be expanded and developed, a young body to be molded into lines of grace and charm, a young life to be made fine and beautiful. it is not an easy task, this leading a child through the correct channels of early life. the young minds are so sensitive, the young memory is so retentive; evil influences are so easily made, and become so readily a part of the boy's or girl's life. someone once said, "motherhood is made up of denial." all parenthood is made up of denial--for from the time the youngster first opens its eyes in its cradle, the parents must deny themselves everything that is necessary to make that child a perfect man or woman. they must give up much of their social duties to attend to the development of the child's mind. they must spend hours with the youngster in his own or her play, so that there will be woven in with that play, a subtle teaching. they must deny themselves material and spiritual comforts so that those whose destiny is in their hands, will be correctly prepared to meet life. there are several chapters to the book of childhood. it is the complete volume that counts--not just one page. follow your child through all his chapters of childhood, enter into his play and study and ambitions. there are so many little incidents that remain in the memory and permanently change the behavior. it is one thing to be just a parent, quite another to be parent and friend. let your child see that you are interested in _all_ his activities, and your influence will have a great deal to do in the shaping of his future manners. amusements "be as careful of the books you read as of the company you keep; for your habits and character will be as much influenced by the former as by the latter." this bit of wisdom from the pen of paxton hood reveals one great duty which confronts every parent. the child must have its own library, and one that will correctly develop its mind and manners. even if it is only one shelf of books in the nursery, it should belong to the child itself. the pride of personal ownership increases the value of the books. books should be chosen with care, but there should be sufficient variety to enable the young boy or girl to select the subject that he or she is most interested in. fiction should be of the better kind, "robinson crusoe," "little lord fauntleroy," the "jungle books," "grimm's or andersen's fairy tales," "alice in wonderland," etc. boys will like "plain tales from the hills," "bob, son of battle," "treasure island," "the sea wolf," "huckleberry finn," "twenty thousand leagues under the sea," etc. there should be special attention given to the classics. it is unfortunate that so much of the time devoted to them should be spent altogether in the schoolroom for books that one has to read are rarely the ones that one likes best. dickens, thackeray, shakespeare, george eliot, and a mighty host of others are waiting for the child who is old enough to understand them. the parent should watch the tendencies of the mind of his child and should keep him supplied with books that will develop and expand the little intellect in accordance with its natural preferences. the best way to teach a child to care for books is to keep him surrounded with them and to read to him or tell him stories from time to time and to be patient if he is slow in manifesting a desire to use the key that unlocks the treasure that lies between the covers of books. music is one of the best means of developing the child's emotional nature and of subduing wayward impulses and of bringing about harmony in the home circle. the writer knows of one family--and there are many others--which sometimes in the evening finds itself all at sixes and sevens. nobody agrees with anybody else; the whole group is hopelessly tangled. the mother goes to the piano and begins playing a song that they all know. one by one the members of the family join in and it is not long before they are all gathered around the piano singing song after song and the petty disagreements and the unpleasant feeling of discord have vanished into thin air. much is to be said in favor of the gramophones. through them the best music is accessible to almost everyone. but it is not wise to depend on them altogether, for children have talent to be developed, and there is a charm about music in the family that is like, to use a crude comparison--home-cooking. it cannot be duplicated elsewhere. let the child be natural after all, the greatest charm of childhood is natural, spontaneous simplicity. stilted, party-mannered children are bores. they are unnatural. and that which is not natural, cannot be well-bred. the cause of shy, bashful, self-conscious youngsters is wrong training. they are repressed instead of developed. their natural tendencies are held down by constant reminders and scoldings and warnings. instead, they should be _brought out_ by proper encouragement, by kind, sympathetic understanding. some children have the idea, in their extreme youth, that parents are made only to forbid things, to repress them and make them do things against which their natures revolt. the bond that should exist between parent and child is a certain understanding friendliness--an implicit faith on the part of the child, and a wise guidance on the part of the parent. remember that a child is like a flower. if the flower is not permitted to struggle upward towards the sun, and to gather in the tiny dewdrops, it will wither and die. if the child is not allowed to develop naturally, its tastes and ideals will be warped and shallow. teach your child to be well-mannered and polite, but do not disguise him with unnatural manners and speech. the young girl there are two kinds of young girls--those who face life as some great opportunity, who consider it a splendid gift to be made the most of, and who help to create the beauty that they love to admire; and those who are butterflies of society, whose lives are mere husks, without depth, without worth-while impulses and ambitions. they are satisfied if they know how to dance gracefully, if they know how to enter a room in an impressive manner, if they know how to be charming at the dinner table. their conversation is idle chatter; their ambitions are to be "social queens," to earn social distinction and importance. fortunately, the twentieth century girl is less of a butterfly than the tight-laced hoop-skirted young miss of the latter part of the nineteenth century. perhaps the war had something to do with it. perhaps it is because so many new occupations have been opened up to her. perhaps it is evolution. but the young miss of to-day is certainly more thrilled with life and its possibilities than her sister of two or three decades ago ever was. life is no longer shown to the young daughter as a plaything by fond parents who plan no future except marriage and social success for the young woman whose future rests in their hands. to-day life is shown to her as it is shown to her brother--as something beautiful, something impressive, something worthy of deep thought and ambitious plan. to-day the young girl is not only taught to dance gracefully, to enter a room correctly, and to conduct herself with ease and charm at the dinner table, but she is taught to develop her natural talents and abilities so that the world will be left a little better for her having lived in it. her conduct, therefore, is tinged with a new dignity of purpose, a new desire to make the best of the gift of life. instead of idle chatter her conversation assumes the proportion of intellectual discussion, and young men and women to-day discuss intelligently problems that would not have been mentioned in polite society a generation ago. it is to help the young girl to prepare for the glorious future that awaits her that the following paragraphs are written. the girl's manners there is nothing quite as charming in a young girl as repose of manner. a soft voice, a quiet, cultured manner is more to be admired than a pretty face, or an elaborate gown. let the young girl look to the ancient greeks for inspiration. here she will find the true conception of beauty--repose of manner and utter simplicity. she will find that to be perfect is to be natural, and that one must be simple and unostentatious to be beautiful in the true sense of the word. after all, what can be quite so lovely as beautiful manners? and what can be more worthy of admiration and respect than a sweet, well-mannered young girl? politeness and courtesy are two other important virtues that the young girl should develop. she should be as polite to her mother and sister as she is to strangers. she should be courteous and kind to everyone. and she should learn the art of listening as well as the art of conversation. the chaperon american girls with their independent ideas of social requirements mock the idea of a chaperon to the theater or dance. and this is especially true of the many young women who are planning careers for themselves, who intend to be more than social butterflies. we are proud of the ideal american girl. we do not mean, of course, the self-esteemed, arrogant young miss who derides all conventions and calls herself "free." in her we are not interested at all. but there is the true american type--the young girl who is essentially a lady, who has self-reliance but is not bold, who is firm without being overbearing, who is brainy but not masculine, who is courageous, strong and fearless, yet _feminine_. she has no need of the chaperon; and it is because of her that the "decay of the chaperon" has been so rapid in america. and so we find that the american girl who is well-bred, who is well-mannered and high-principled, may attend the theater and the dance with gentlemen, unchaperoned. it is only when she travels abroad or stops at a hotel for any length of time that social requirements still command that she be chaperoned. but even then, the girl who travels on business purposes, need feel no embarrassment when she is alone, if her manner and speech are as polished and correct as they should be. the young country miss in the small town or in the country, if a young girl goes to a party or other social meeting with a young man, he is, of course, expected to escort her home again. if the hour is early and the family will probably still be up, she may invite him in if she wishes to do so. but it is not an obligation. if it is late, she does not invite him into the house, but she may ask him to call. in some sections of the united states it is still considered correct for the young man himself to request that he be permitted to call. a correspondent has written to inquire whether or not it is correct for a young girl to thank a young man for his escort just before leaving him at her own door. evidently the young lady who has written has herself been in doubt as to whether or not it is correct. in this instance, circumstances alter cases. if she were a young country miss returning from an informal village function, she would by no means offer thanks. but if the young man has obviously put himself to an inconvenience to escort her home, then it is only polite that she offer him some expression of gratitude. a city girl does not thank her escort, but he on the other hand, may thank her for a very pleasant afternoon or evening if he wishes to do so. the girl and her mother the young girl should follow her mother's example and advice in all things. eighteen is the correct coming-out age for the young american girl, and until then she should obey her mother without question. she should be guided by her wider experience, by her more mature knowledge. but unfortunately this is not always so. mothers and daughters are not the "pals" they ought to be. recently a woman was asked by a very close friend why she allowed her daughter to attend the theater and the dance with a young man who was of questionable character. "surely you have some influence over her," the friend persisted. "tell her to avoid him." but she simply smiled in a tired sort of way and said, "i am only her mother." this should not be. the mother should guide her daughter in all she does, and the daughter should be willing to abide by her mother's decisions. otherwise that sacred, beautiful friendship that can be created only between a mother and daughter will never exist. for the shy and self-conscious a great many of us suffer from self-consciousness. we always imagine that people are looking at us, talking about us, ridiculing us. we are never at ease among strangers, never happy when people are around. we are always embarrassed, shy, ill at ease. there is a story told about the famous hawthorne who was so shy and self-conscious that he ran out of the house or hid himself whenever he saw visitors approaching. his wife, who was also very timid and retiring by nature, was left to entertain the guests as best she could. hawthorne was heartily ashamed of himself, but instead of trying to overcome his self-consciousness he sought and found forgetfulness in his books and writings. his wife, on the other hand, was forced to overcome her natural timidity for the sake of her husband and for the sake of the hospitality of the hawthorne home. and because she determined to do it, she soon became entirely unself-conscious and able to conduct herself with ease and unconcern even among the most celebrated people. and so you see that self-consciousness can be overcome. there is no reason for the bride to feel embarrassed and ill at ease when she is hostess for the first time in her new home. there is no reason for the young girl to feel shy and timid when she is introduced in society. there is no reason for the young man to be self-conscious in the presence of ladies. a little will power and a little sincere effort will banish this fault forever. forget about yourself that is the only way you can hope to cure yourself of self-consciousness--forget about yourself! there are so many delightful things you can think of, so many interesting things beyond the selfish little boundaries of your own self. send your thoughts abroad, send them into the universe to drink deeply of knowledge and learning, to delve into the wells of profound interest that surround us on every side--and forget about the petty commonplaces of life, the unimportant everyday conventionalities. then you will forget about yourself also, and before you realize it you will be calm, dignified, unafraid. all suggestion of self-consciousness will have vanished. why the shy are awkward when a bride leaves a small country place to become the hostess in a large house in a large city, she is very likely to feel ill at ease and conscious of herself. naturally, this makes her awkward in her manners. shyness is over-sensitiveness--a shrinking from observation. it causes us to worry about what others are thinking about us, and naturally it makes us morbid. thus we are kept from appearing at our best, and in all our manners and actions we appear awkward and nervous. it is very necessary to overcome this fault if one wishes to mingle with people of the best society. orison swett marden says, "if you are a victim of timidity and self-depreciation, afraid to say your soul is your own; if you creep about the world as though you thought you were taking up room which belonged to somebody else; if you are bashful, timid, confused, tongue-tied when you ought to assert yourself, say to yourself, 'i am a child of the king of kings. i will no longer suffer this cowardly timidity to rule me. i am made by the same creator who made all other human beings. they are my brothers and sisters. there is no more reason why i should be afraid to express what i feel or think before them than if they were in my own family.'" the great inspirational writer has shown you in this little paragraph the way to overcome your self-consciousness--the foolish timidity that is robbing you of your privilege of self-assertion, of your ease and grace of manner, of your very happiness. whenever you feel embarrassed and ill at ease in the presence of strangers, think of the words of marden. remember that you are one of the children of the universe, that we are all brothers and sisters, and that you have as much right to assert yourself as any other man or woman in the world. and when you finally do overcome your timidity you will find that you have acquired a splendid new grace and charm of manner. self-confidence versus conceit do not have the mistaken idea that confidence in oneself, lack of self-consciousness, is conceit. as a matter of fact, it is much better to be shy and self-conscious than to be a pert, aggressive egotist. the first lesson to learn, in your crusade against self-consciousness, is that you must not be _ashamed of your shyness_. that will make you even more conscious of yourself. forget that you are shy. or if you cannot forget, tell yourself that it is better to be reserved and modest than to be conceited and aggressive. do not shrink from strangers, but meet them and talk to them as though they were your brothers, or sisters. treat everyone like an equal, but do not treat yourself as an inferior. self-confidence is what makes success, whether it is in the social world or the business world. it was self-confidence that helped edison with each new invention. it was self-confidence that enabled madame marie curie, penniless and obscure, to discover radium, the greatest and most wonderful metal in the world. all achievement is founded on self-confidence--not of the aggressive sort, but of the quiet, calm, unassuming sort that is so easy to develop if one will only try. determine that you will no longer allow timidity and shyness to rule you. assert yourself! and watch how your manners improve. country hospitality the country hostess must not feel that she is expected to entertain her guests in city fashion. there is a great deal of difference between the facilities and conditions of country and city life, and social activities are consequently different in both localities. in the country there is much less mingling with strangers than there is in the city. social entertainments are confined very largely to the home fireside. there are few clubs, few large halls and auditoriums. a feeling of intimacy and good-fellowship exists which is entirely lacking in large cities. almost everybody knows everybody else, and when a large entertainment is given, the whole village knows about it. to attempt to emulate her city sister would be folly for the country hostess. she hasn't the facilities nor the natural conditions conducive to the elaborate and strictly formal entertainments and activities of the city. in the country everything should be on a simpler, more informal basis; the natural beauties of the country are certainly not compatible with the fashionable and often ostentatious activities of the city. importance of simplicity we go to the country because we are tired of the town and we want rest, quiet, peace. we do not expect to find a frenzied attempt at imitation of city entertainments. yet this is what so many hostesses do--instead of retaining the delightful natural simplicity of their homes, they feel that they must entertain their city friends in city fashion. and invariably they fail. very often when a city man or woman is tired of the sham and narrow conventionalities of city life, he or she will plan to visit a country friend. if that country friend is wise, he or she will make no elaborate preparations, but just greet the friend with the simple country hospitality that is so alluring to city people. where in the city can you find the good-fellowship, the spontaneity, the courteous kindliness that you find in the small town and village? where in the city can you find the open-hearted generosity, the sympathetic understanding and the simple courtesy that you find among country people? the elaborate ball room with its richly gowned women is charming and impressive; but the simple country party with its virginia reel, the daughters in their party clothes and mothers in their "best black silks" are no less charming. for the sake of those young men and women who live in the country and know liveried chauffeurs and uniformed butlers only through books, for the sake of those men and women who live in the country because they love simplicity and the beauties of nature, but for those who are eager to know good manners and know what is correct at all times, we are writing the following paragraph on etiquette in the small town. let us first write about the hostess when entertaining guests from the city, fresh flowers should be brought into the house every day. the meal served should be simple; elaborate course dinners are not in good form when the facilities of the hostess do not permit them. nothing ostentatious should be attempted; just simple, homelike hospitality such as is offered the neighbors and friends of the village. early dining is usual in the country, especially in the summer. sometimes high tea is served. the tea-urn is placed on the table before the hostess to give a homelike air to the function, and fruits and flowers are placed in cut glass bowls on the table. preserves, honey and cakes should also be on the table in cut glass or china dishes. hot biscuits, muffins and wafers are usually served at high tea, with one substantial dish like cold chicken, salad or cold sliced meats. hammocks, tennis courts, rowboats, etc., should be placed at the disposal of visiting guests. the considerate hostess always plans some sort of entertainment for guests that have come a long way to visit her, but she does not make any attempt to provide anything elaborate. a simple country dance or a musicale is relaxing and entertaining. protection from flies, mosquitoes, etc. should be provided for guests. if chairs and hammocks are on the porch, it should be completely screened in to prevent mosquitoes from annoying the guests. it is just such little considerations as these that make country hospitality so delightful. the guest whether you are a guest from the city, or a friend from the village, you have a certain definite etiquette to observe when you are at the home of a country hostess. first you must make yourself agreeable and helpful. if you are from the city, forget the restricting formalities you have been accustomed to. you may speak to everyone in the hostess' drawing-room--or parlor--even though there have been no introductions. and if you see an elderly man or woman standing all alone in one corner of the room, you can go over to him or her, start a conversation, and offer to get a chair or an ice for the stranger. it is not necessary to wait for an introduction. do not be dull during the afternoon or evening. be pleasant and agreeable; if conversation lags, stimulate it with an interesting anecdote. if you can entertain in some way, either by singing, playing some musical instrument, or reciting, don't be backward about offering your services. remember you are not in an elaborate ball room but among simple country folks, and if you can provide enjoyable entertainment for them, they will appreciate it just as much as you yourself will enjoy it. an offish person always spoils the fun of a country party. if you feel you are superior to the virginia reel and the apple paring contests, do not attend. move to the city where you can attend elaborate social functions. but while you are at the party, do your best to add to the general enjoyment, and do not spoil things by being disagreeable and unpleasant. it is poor taste to wear very fashionable city clothes to a simple country entertainment. if you come from the city, wear something simple and pretty, but not something that will make you conspicuous. if you are a man and you know that none of the other men will wear full dress, then don't be presumptuous enough to appear in your swallow-tail. but if you are a village friend, you may wear your "sunday best" for undoubtedly everyone else who attends the party will do likewise. for country folks never attempt to make false impressions. that is one great fault found among certain country people. when city friends call, they attempt to overawe them with their superiority. while the city friends are with them, they do not notice their village friends at church, nor do they invite them to their house. they devote themselves exclusively to their friends from the city--and invariably those friends return home disappointed and disillusioned. when people move in the neighborhood, it is considered polite to pay them the first visit--"to extend the hand of welcome," as the expression is. the hostess should offer a cup of tea with crackers or cake, and should make herself agreeable in every way. however, the acquaintance should not be forced; if the newcomers are haughty and aloof, it is well to leave them to themselves, until they have absorbed some of the good-fellowship and courtesy of the village. there is very little need for formal calling cards in the small village where everybody knows everybody else. a great many of the conventionalities of city life are, of course, found in the country; but a great many more of them are lacking. and among them are the strictly formal introductions, calls and social functions that are observed with such punctiliousness in the city. simplicity should be the keynote of country life, and quiet, dignified manners should be the ideal of country people. the endless round of hospitality hospitality does not mean the giving of sumptuous banquets or elaborate dinners. it does not mean the extravagant recklessness of much-talked-about house parties, or extended yachting trips. it does not mean the holding of gay and festive balls. no, it means none of these, for even in the most humble home one can find the truest hospitality. there need be no rich display, no obvious effort at ostentation. for hospitality is that open-hearted, open-handed, generous, lovable, beautiful fellow-feeling for fellow-mortals--the kind of feeling that makes you throw open your home, small apartment or mighty mansion, as the case may be, and bid your friends and acquaintances welcome. welcome, mind you, that has in its greeting none of the sham cordiality, that wealthy people sometimes parade merely for the sake of being able to show their worldly goods to the envious eyes of their guests,--but a whole-souled and whole-hearted welcome that is willing to share everything one has. and so, the round of hospitality goes endlessly on, host and hostess making the pleasure and comfort of the guest their prime consideration. parties, receptions, dances, balls, dinners--all are instances of the eagerness of the world, the social world, to entertain, to give pleasure, to amuse. and the guests, in their turn, repay the hospitalities with other hospitalities of their own. and we find, in this glorious twentieth century it is our fortune to be living in, a wholesome, generous hospitality that puts to shame the history-famed achievements of kings and princes of yore. when to invite the question naturally arises, what are the occasions that require hospitality? frankly, there are no definite occasions. hospitality is the index to breeding and culture at all times. but there are certain ceremonious occasions that warrant the _invited hospitality_--and such are the occasions that we will study in this chapter. first, we find the wedding anniversary claiming the ceremony of many invited guests and much festive entertainment. thus, wedding anniversaries offer an excellent opportunity for hospitality. then there is the occasion of the young daughter's introduction to society--an event which is important, indeed, and requires the utmost hospitality on the part of host and hostess alike. when one's son graduates from college, a little dinner party and perhaps some musical entertainment afterward is an appropriate time to show by one's hospitality, sincere gratitude for the splendid educational opportunities afforded the youth of america. oh, there are countless opportunities, countless "excuses," if you will call it that, countless occasions when hospitality can be shown to one's friends and acquaintances! and it is only by taking advantage of these opportunities, by revealing one's unselfish, ungrudging hospitality, that one rightly earns the name of _cultured_. the hostess who sighs in relief when the guest has departed is not truly hospitable. she should have a certain sense of satisfaction in the knowledge of her very weariness. for hasn't she served her guests well? hasn't she sent them to their homes a little happier than when they first came? the sigh should be one of sheer joy. no one invites guests to his or her home to make them unhappy. therefore, if among your friends you number one whose worldly goods are very much less than your own, do not invite him or her to a fashionable ball where rich display will make him feel sadly out of place. rather save the invitation for a quiet, afternoon tea. and on the other hand, if you are unable to care for the wants and comforts of several guests, do not invite them to house parties. be hospitable--but above all use good sense and good judgment before you invite. the guests and their duties the fact that america is the home of hospitality and land of the most generous hostesses, does not indicate necessarily that the guest, in his selfishness, should take advantage of it. a well-bred, considerate person always seeks to minimize as far as possible the efforts of his or her hostess, and to make the visit or stay pleasant. she, or he, constantly endeavors to aid the hostess in providing entertainment. in short, he returns the hospitality of the host and hostess, with a hospitality of his own--a hospitality that, in itsconsideration and regard for the rights of others, is one of the beautiful things that makes life worth the living. it is superb--this giving and returning of hospitality: we find a worried, anxious business man, forgetting for the moment his pressing affairs in the diverting entertainments provided for him by his hostess; in return, exerting every effort to contribute to the success of the evening, to join in the conversation when he would rather be silent and pensive, to be witty and humorous when he would much prefer being moody and despondent. and so it goes on, a constant giving and returning of hospitality, so beautiful and so inspiring that it is worthy of the stress given to it in the social world. there are some paramount obligations which the guest must observe. among them, perhaps most exacting, is punctuality. to keep others waiting, to be continually tardy, is to demonstrate one's rudeness and want of good breeding. promptness in regard to the answering of invitations, punctuality in attending dinners, luncheons and parties of any kind,--these are marks of good breeding. if one is invited to a dance or party and does not wish to attend without an out-of-town friend who happens to be stopping with him or her at the time--a friend who certainly cannot be deserted on the afternoon or evening of the occasion--it is permissible to write a cordial note to the hostess explaining the situation and requesting that an invitation be extended to the friend. however, no resentment should be felt if the hostess finds she must refuse the request; for she may have had to refuse some of her own friends on account of conditions beyond her control. but no guest may bring to a party, dance or dinner, a friend or acquaintance who has not been invited. this is considered a breach of etiquette, and the hostess is not inhospitable when she does not invite that particular guest again. the guest must conform in all things to the tastes and customs of his host and hostess. he must find (or feign) enjoyment in everything that is proposed by them, everything that is offered by them in the way of entertainment. in taking leave of the hostess it is necessary to thank her cordially. criticisms, either of the conduct of some other guest, or of servants, are poor form and should be avoided. the ideal guest is the one who has that ease and poise of manner, that calmness and kindness of temper, that loving and lovable disposition that makes people somehow want to talk to and be with him. such a guest needs no set of rules--inherently he knows the laws of good conduct and fine manners; he is the boon of hosts and hostesses the world over. executives of state ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- |addressing |salutation|salutation|closing |closing title |envelope |formal |informal |formal |informal ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- president |president |sir |my dear |i have the |i have the of |calvin | |mr. |honor to |honor to united |coolidge | |president |remain your |remain most states | | | |most |respectfully | | | |obedient |(sincerely) | | | |servant |yours ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- vice- |the vice- |sir or |my dear |i have, sir, |i have the president |president |dear sir |john doe |the honor to |honor to |john doe | | |remain your |remain most | | | |obedient |respectfully | | | |servant |(sincerely) | | | | |yours ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- cabinet |hon. or |sir or |my dear |i have, sir, |i have the member |honorable |dear sir |hubert |the honor to |honor to |hubert work, | |work |remain your |remain most |secretary of | | |obedient |respectfully |interior, | | |servant |(sincerely) |etc. | | | |yours ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- senator |senator |sir or |my dear |i have, sir, |believe |william m. |dear sir |senator |the honor to |me, most |calder or | |calder |remain your |sincerely |honorable | | |obedient |yours |william m. | | |servant | |calder | | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- member of |honorable |sir or |my dear |i have, sir, |believe house of |robert c. |dear sir |mr. bacon |the honor to |me, most represen- |bacon | | |remain your |sincerely tatives | | | |obedient |yours | | | |servant | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- justice |mr. justice |sir or |dear |i have, sir, |believe of supreme|h. taft, or |dear sir |justice |the honor to |me, most court |the hon. h. | |taft |remain your |sincerely |taft justice | | |obedient |yours |of supreme | | |servant | |court | | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- governor |governor |sir or |dear |i have, sir, |believe of state |alfred e. |dear sir |governor |the honor to |me, most |smith | |smith, or |remain your |sincerely | | |dear mr. |obedient |yours | | |smith |servant | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- mayor of |his honor |sir or |my dear |i have, sir, |believe city |the mayor of |dear sir |mayor |the honor to |me, most |new york, | | |remain your |sincerely |john f. | | |obedient |yours |hylan | | |servant | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- church dignitaries ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- |addressing |salutation|salutation|closing |closing title |envelope |formal |informal |formal |informal ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- archbishop|the most |my lord |my dear |i remain, my |i have anglican |reverend, |archbishop|lord |lord |honor to church |his grace |may it |archbishop|archbishop, |remain |the |please |your | |my dear |archbishop |your |grace's | |archbishop |of york |grace |obedient | | | | |servamt | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- anglican |to the right |my lord |my dear |i have |i have bishop |reverend, | |lord |honor to |honor to |the lord | |bishop |remain your |remain, |bishop of | | |lordship's |my dear |kent | | |obedient |lord | | | |servamt |bishop, | | | | |faithfully | | | | |yours ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- roman |the most |most |most |i have the |i have the catholic |reverend john|reverend |reverend |honor to |honor to archbishop|g. mccaular, |and dear |and dear |remain your |remain your |archbishop |sir |sir |humble |humble |of newgate | | |servant |servant ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- cardinal |his eminence,|your |your |i have the |i have the |cardinal |eminence |eminence |honor to |honor to |newton | |or dear |remain your |remain your | | |cardinal |humble |humble | | |newton |servant |servant ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- roman |to the right |right |my dear |i have the |i have the catholic |reverend |reverend |bishop |honor to |honor to bishop |joseph f. |and dear |white |remain your |remain your |white, |sir | |humble |humble |bishop of | | |servant |servant |massachusetts| | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- protestant|right |right |dear |i have the |i have the bishop |reverend |reverend |bishop |honor to |honor to |edward f. |and dear |conroy |remain your |remain your |conroy, |sir | |obedient |obedient |bishop of | | |servant, or |servant, or |new jersey | | |i remain |i remain | | | |respectfully |respectfully | | | |(sincerely) |(sincerely) | | | |yours |yours ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- roman |the reverend |reverend |dear |i beg to | catholic |james g. hill|and dear |father |remain, very | priest or |(with d.d.) |sir |hill (to |sincerely | protestant|or reverend | |catholic) | | minister |doctor hill | |dear | | | | |doctor or | | | | |mr. hill | | | | |(to prot- | | | | |estant) | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- rabbi |dr. f. g. |dear sir |dear dr. |i beg to | |krauss | |krauss |remain, yours| | | | |sincerely | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- royalty ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- |addressing |salutation|salutation|closing |closing title |envelope |formal |informal |formal |informal ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- king or |to his (her) |sir (or |dear (or |i have the | queen |most gracious|madam), |honored) |honor to | |majesty king |may it |sir (or |remain your | |george (queen|please |madam) |majesty's | |mary) |your | |most | | |majesty | |obedient | | | | |servant | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- royal |to his (her) |sir |dear sir |i have the |your royal prince or |royal |(madam), |dear madam|honor to |highness' princess |highness, |may it | |remain your |most |the prince of|please | |royal |obedient |wales (or |your | |highness' |servant |princess |highness | |humble | |mary) | | |servant | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- duke and |to his (her) |my lord |my dear |i have the |believe duchess |grace, the |(madam), |duke |honor to |me, dear |duke of |may it |my dear |remain your |duke |devonshire |please |duchess |grace's most |(duchess) |(or duchess |your grace| |obedient |yours very |of | | |servant |sincerely |devonshire) | | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- dowager |to her grace,|madam, may|my dear |i have the |believe duchess |the dowager |it please |duchess |honor to |me, dear |duchess of |your grace|(informal)|remain your |duchess, |devonshire, | | |grace's most |yours very |or to her | | |obedient |sincerely |grace, anne, | | |servant | |duchess of | | | | |devonshire | | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- marquis |to the |my lord |my dear |believe me, |believe me, marchion- |marquis of |marquis |lord fife |lord (lady) |lord (lady) ess |fife, to the |madam |dear lady |fife, very |fife, very |marchioness | |fife |sincerely |sincerely |of fife | | |yours |yours |to the most | | | | |noble marquis| | | | |of fife, to | | | | |the most | | | | |noble | | | | |marchioness | | | | |of fife | | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- dowager |to the |madam |dear lady |believe me, |believe me, marchion- |dowager, | |fife |lady fife, |lady fife, ess |marchioness | | |very |very |of fife, to | | |sincerely |sincerely |mary, | | |yours |yours |marchioness | | | | |of fife | | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- younger |to the right |my lord |my dear |i have the |believe me, son and |honorable, | |lord james|honor to |my dear wife of |the lord | |grey, |remain your |lord (lady) a duke or |james grey, | |dear lady |(ladyship's) |grey, marquis |to the right | |james grey|obedient |faithfully |honorable, | | |servant |yours |the lady | | | | |james grey | | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- daughter |right hon. |madam |dear lady |i have the |believe me, of duke, |the lady | |janet |honor to |dear lady marchion- |janet gregory| | |remain your |janet, very ess or |(informal) | | |lordship's |faithfully earl |to the lady | | |(ladyship's) |yours |janet gregory| | |obedient | | | | |servant | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- earl |right |my lord |dear lord |believe me, my dear lord countess |honorable |(madam) |kent |(lady) kent, sincerely |the earl of | |dear lady |yours |kent, | |kent | |countess of | | | |kent | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+------------------------ viscount |right |my lord |dear lord |believe me, my dear lord viscount- |honorable |(madam) |(lady) |(lady) kent, sincerely ess |viscount | | |yours |(viscountess)| | | |grey or to | | | |viscount grey| | | |to viscount- | | | |ess grey | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+------------------------ baron |right |my lord |dear lord |believe me, my dear lord baroness |honorable |(madam) |(lady) |(lady) kent, sincerely |the baron | | |yours |whiteside, | | | |the right | | | |honorable the| | | |baroness | | | |whiteside | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- younger |to the |sir, dear |dear mr. |i have the |believe me, son and |honorable |sir |warwick |honor to |dear mr. wife of |james |(madam, |dear mrs. |remain your |or mrs. earl, |warwick, to |dear |warwick |obedient |warwick, viscount |the honorable|madam) | |servant |sincerely or baron |mrs. warwick | | | |yours ------------+-------------+----------+----------+-------------+---------- daughter |to the |dear madam|dear miss |believe me, sincerely of |honorable | |grey |yours viscount |miss grey | | | or baron | | | | | | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+------------------------ baronet |to sir james |sir |dear sir |believe me, dear sir lady |grey, bart. |madam |james |james, faithfully |to lady| |grey |yours |grey | |dear lady |believe me, dear | | |grey |lady grey, | | | |faithfully yours | | | | | | | | ------------+-------------+----------+----------+------------------------ knight |sir james |sir |dear sir |believe me, dear sir lady |grey, |madam |james |james, faithfully |lady james | |dear lady |yours |grey | |grey |believe me, dear | | | |lady grey | | | |faithfully yours ------------+-------------+----------+----------+------------------------ martine's hand-book of etiquette, and guide to true politeness. a complete manual for those who desire to understand the rules of good breeding, the customs of good society, and to avoid incorrect and vulgar habits, containing _clear and comprehensive directions for correct manners, dress, and conversation_; _instructions for good behavior at dinner parties, and the table, with hints on the art of carving and taking wine at table_; _together with the etiquette of the ball and assembly room, evening parties_; _deportment in the street and when travelling_; _and the usages to be observed when visiting or receiving calls_. to which is added the etiquette of courtship, marriage, domestic duties, and fifty-six rules to be observed in general society. by arthur martine. new york: dick & fitzgerald, publishers. entered according to act of congress, in the year , by dick & fitzgerald, in the clerk's office of the district court of the united states for the southern district of new york. contents. general observations the art of conversation general rules for conversation on dress introductions letters of introduction dinner parties habits at table wine at table carving etiquette of the ball and assembly room evening parties visiting street etiquette traveling marriage domestic etiquette and duties on general society general observations. politeness has been defined as an "artificial good-nature;" but it would be better said that _good-nature is natural politeness_. it inspires us with an unremitting attention, both to please others and to avoid giving them offence. its code is a ceremonial, agreed upon and established among mankind, to give each other external testimonies of friendship or respect. _politeness_ and _etiquette_ form a sort of supplement to the law, which enables society to protect itself against offences which the _law_ cannot touch. for instance, the law cannot punish a man for habitually staring at people in an insolent and annoying manner, but _etiquette_ can banish such an offender from the circles of good society, and fix upon him the brand of vulgarity. _etiquette_ consists in certain forms, ceremonies, and rules which the _principle of politeness_ establishes and enforces for the regulation of the manners of men and women in their intercourse with each other. many unthinking persons consider the observance of etiquette to be nonsensical and unfriendly, as consisting of unmeaning forms, practiced only by the _silly_ and the idle; an opinion which arises from their not having reflected on the _reasons_ that have led to the establishment of certain rules indispensable to the well-being of society, and without which, indeed, it would inevitably fall to pieces, and be destroyed. the true aim of politeness, is to make those with whom you associate as well satisfied with themselves as possible. it does not, by any means, encourage an impudent self-importance in them, but it does whatever it can to accommodate their feelings and wishes in social intercourse. politeness is a sort of social benevolence, which avoids wounding the pride, or shocking the prejudices of those around you. the principle of politeness is the same among all nations, but the ceremonials which etiquette imposes differ according to the taste and habits of various countries. for instance, many of the minor rules of etiquette at paris differ from those at london; and at new york they may differ from both paris and london. but still the polite of every country have about the same manners. of the manners and deportment of both ladies and gentlemen, we would remark that a proper consideration for the welfare and comfort of others will generally lead to a greater propriety of demeanor than any rules which the most rigid master of etiquette could supply. this feeling, however, is one that must be cultivated, for the promptings of nature are eminently selfish, and courtesy and good-breeding are only attainable by effort and discipline. but even courtesy has limits where dignity should govern it, for when carried to excess, particularly in manner, it borders on sycophancy, which is almost as despicable as rudeness. to overburden people with attention; to render them uncomfortable with a prodigality of proffered services; to insist upon obligations which they do not desire, is not only to render yourself disagreeable, but contemptible. this defect of manners is particularly prevalent in the rural districts, where the intense effort to render a visitor comfortable has exactly the contrary effect; besides, there are those whose want of refinement and good breeding often leads them to an unwarrantable familiarity, which requires coldness and indifference to subdue. much misconstruction and unpleasant feeling arises, especially in country towns, from not knowing what is "_expected_," or necessary to be done on certain occasions, resulting sometimes from the prevalence of local customs, with which the world in general are not supposed to be acquainted. "to do in rome as the romans do," applies to every kind of society. at the same time, you can never be expected to commit a serious breach of manners because your neighbors do so. but what you should do, and what not, in particular cases, you will learn in the following chapters. i have only now to say, that if you wish to be agreeable, which is certainly a good and religious desire, you must both study how to be so, and take the trouble to put your studies into constant practice. the fruit you will soon reap. you will be generally liked and loved. the gratitude of those to whom you have devoted yourself will be shown in speaking well of you; you will become a desirable addition to every party, and whatever your birth, fortune, or position, people will say of you, "he is a most agreeable and well-bred man," and be glad to introduce you to good society. but you will reap a yet better reward. you will have in yourself the satisfaction of having taken trouble and made sacrifices in order to give pleasure and happiness for the time to others. how do you know what grief or care you may not obliterate, what humiliation you may not alter to confidence, what anxiety you may not soften, what--last, but really not least--what intense dullness you may not enliven? if this work assist you in becoming an agreeable member of good society, i shall rejoice at the labor it has given me. the art of conversation. as the object of conversation is pleasure and improvement, those subjects only which are of universal interest can be made legitimate topics of pleasantry or discussion. and it is the gift of expressing thoughts and fancies in a quick, brilliant, and graceful manner on such topics,--of striking out new ideas, eliciting the views and opinions of others, of attaching the interest of all to the subject discussed, giving it, however trifling in itself, weight and importance in the estimation of the hearers, that constitutes the great talent for conversation. but this talent can never, we may safely aver, be displayed except in a good cause, and when conversation is carried on in a spirit of genuine charity and benevolence. we should meet in society to please and be pleased, and not to display cold and stately dignity, which is as much out of place, as all attempts to shine by a skillful adherence to the fantastic rules of the silver-fork school, are puerile and ludicrous. such little things are great to little persons, who are proud of having acquired by rote, what the naturally elegant derive, in sufficient measure, from naturally just feeling. the power of preserving silence is the very first requisite to all who wish to shine, or even please in discourse; and those who cannot preserve it, have really no business to speak. of course, i do not mean the dull, ignorant, sulky, or supercilious silence, of which we see enough in all conscience; but the graceful, winning and eloquent silence. the silence that, without any deferential air, listens with polite attention, is more flattering than compliments, and more frequently broken for the purpose of encouraging others to speak, than to display the listener's own powers. this is the really eloquent silence. it requires great genius--more perhaps than speaking--and few are gifted with the talent; but it is of such essential advantage, that i must recommend its study to all who are desirous to take a share in conversation, and beg they will learn to be silent, before they attempt to speak. notwithstanding the praise here bestowed on silence, it must still be explained that there are various modes of being silently rude. there is the rude silence of disdain--of not hearing, of not even deeming your words deserving attention or reply. these are minor and mere passive modes of impertinence; the direct and active sort of silent rudeness is to listen with a fixed and attentive stare on the speaker, and without any necessity of raising the eyebrows--for that might be precarious--show your utter amazement, that any one should think of thus addressing a person of your rank, wealth, genius, or greatness. there are of course various styles and degrees in all these modes of impertinence, but they all originate in the same cause: ignorance of the real facility of being rude, and a wish to acquire distinction by the practice. it is idle to assert that every one can be rude if he likes; for, if such were the fact, we should not see hosts of persons belonging to what is termed good society, seeking fame and renown by various shades and degrees of mere impertinence. never give short or sharp answers in ordinary conversation, unless you aspire to gain distinction by mere rudeness; for they have in fact no merit, and are only uncivil. "i do not know," "i cannot tell," are the most harmless words possible, and may yet be rendered very offensive by the tone and manner in which they are pronounced. never reply, in answer to a question like the following, "did mrs. spitewell tell you how miss rosebud's marriage was getting on?" "i did not ask." it is almost like saying, i never ask impertinent questions, though you do; we learn plenty of things in the world without having first inquired about them. if you must say, you did not ask, say, that "you forgot to ask," "neglected it," or "did not think of it." we can always be ordinarily civil, even if we cannot always be absolutely wise. except in mere sport and raillery, and where a little _extravaganza_ is the order of the moment, always when you answer, or speak in reply to an observation made, speak to the true and just import of what is said. leave quibbling of every kind to lawyers pleading at the bar for the life of a culprit; in society and conversation it is invariably out of place, unless when laughter is going his merry round. at all other times it is a proof of bad breeding. you must not overstretch a proposition, neither must you overstretch or spin out a jest, that has done its duty; for few can be made to rebound after they have once come to the ground. another mode of being rude, is to collect, and have at command, all the set phrases used by uncivil persons, in order to say what they fancy very sharp and severe things. such a collector, jealous perhaps of the attention with which a pleasant guest is listened to, may break in upon the most harmless discourse with the words, "i think you _lie_ under a mistake." the term may in itself be harmless, but its application is at all times rude, coarse and decidedly vulgar. la bruyère tells us that "rudeness is not a fixed and inherent vice of the mind, but the result of other vices; it springs," he says, "from vanity, ignorance, laziness, stupidity, jealousy, and inattention. it is the more hateful from being constantly displayed in exterior deportment and from being thus always visible and manifest; and is offensive in character and degree according to the source from which it takes its rise." we next come to the loud talker, the man who silences a whole party by his sole power of lungs. all subjects are alike to him; he speaks on every topic with equal fluency, is never at a loss, quotes high authority for every assertion, and allows no one else to utter a word; he silences, without the least ceremony, every attempt at interruption, however cleverly managed;--calls out, "i beg your pardon," in a tone that shows how ill-used he thinks himself,--or shuts your mouth with--"one minute, if you please, sir!" as much as to say, you are surely a very ill-bred fellow. great, and especially loud and positive talkers, have been denounced by all writers on manners as shallow and superficial persons. and p. andré, the author of a french essay on the beautiful, declares distinctly, that "no man of sense was ever a great talker." next to the talker, we have the man who gives an account of his dogs, horses, lands, books, and pictures. whatever is his, must, he thinks, interest others; and listen they must, however resolutely they may attempt to change the current of his discourse. women of this class are sometimes too fond of praising their children. it is no doubt an amiable weakness; but i would still advise them to indulge as little as possible in the practice; for however dear the rosy-cheeked, curly-headed prattlers may be to them, the chances are, that others will vote the darlings to be great bores; you that have children, never speak of them in company. you must not even praise your near relations; for the subject deprives the hearer of all power to dissent, and is therefore clearly objectionable. in the same line is the clever bore, who takes up every idle speech, to show his wisdom at a cheap rate. if you say, "hang the weather!" before such a man, he immediately proves, by logical demonstrations, that the weather has no neck by which it can be suspended. the grave expounder of truisms belongs to this class. he cannot allow the simplest conversation to go on, without entering into proofs and details familiar to every child nine years of age; and the tenor of his discourse, however courteous in terms and manner, pays you the very indifferent compliment, of supposing that you have fallen from some other planet, in total and absolute ignorance of the most ordinary and every-day things connected with this little world of ours. all foreigners are particularly great at this style of boring. then you have the indifferent and apathetic bore, who hardly condescends to pay the least attention to what you say; and who, if he refrains from the direct and absolute rudeness of yawning in your face, shows, by short and drawling answers, given at fits and starts, and completely at variance with the object of the conversation, that he affects at least a total indifference to the party present, and to the subject of discourse. in society, the absent man is uncivil; he who affects to be so, is rude and vulgar. all persons who speak of their ailings, diseases, or bodily infirmities, are offensive bores. subjects of this sort should be addressed to doctors, who are paid for listening to them, and to no one else. bad taste is the failing of these bores. then we have the ladies and gentlemen who pay long visits, and who, meeting you at the door prepared to sally forth, keep you talking near the fire till the beauty of the day is passed; and then take their leave, "hoping they have not detained you." bad feeling or want of tact here predominates. "hobby-riders," who constantly speak on the same eternal subject,--who bore you at all times and at all hours,--whether you are in health or in sickness, in spirits or in sorrow, with the same endless topic, must not be overlooked in our list; though it is sufficient to denounce them. their failing is occasioned by a total want of judgment. the _malaprops_ are also a numerous and unhappy family, for they are constantly addressing the most unsuitable speeches to individuals or parties. to the blind they will speak of fine pictures and scenery; and will entertain a person in deep mourning with the anticipated pleasures of to-morrow's ball. a total want of ordinary thought and observation, is the general cause of the _malaprop_ failing. let us add to this very imperfect list the picture of a bore described by swift. "nothing," he says, "is more generally exploded than the folly of talking too much; yet i rarely remember to have seen five people together, where some one among them hath not been predominant in that kind, to the great constraint and disgust of all the rest. but among such as deal in multitudes of words, none are comparable to the sober, deliberate talker, who proceedeth with much thought and caution, maketh his preface, brancheth out into several digressions, findeth a hint that putteth him in mind of another story, which he promises to tell you when this is done, cometh back regularly to his subject, cannot readily call to mind some person's name, holdeth his head, complaineth of his memory; the whole company all this while in suspense; at last says, it is no matter, and so goes on. and to crown the business, it perhaps proveth at last a story the company has heard fifty times before, or at best some insipid adventure of the relater." to this we may add, that your cool, steady talkers, who speak with the care and attention of professors demonstrating mathematical problems,--who weigh, measure and balance every word they utter,--are all decided objectionables in society. it is needless to say, that such persons never blunder, and never "stumble over a potato;" a matter of little recommendation. in conversation there must be, as in love and in war, some hazarding, some rattling on; nor need twenty falls affect you, so long as you take cheerfulness and good humor for your guides; but the careful and measured conversation just described is always, though perfectly correct, extremely dull and tedious--a vast blunder from first to last. there are also many persons who commence speaking before they know what they are going to say. the ill-natured world, who never miss an opportunity of being severe, declare them to be foolish and destitute of brains. i shall not go so far; but hardly know what we should think of a sportsman who would attempt to bring down a bird before he had loaded his gun. i have purposely reserved the egotistical bore for the last on this short and imperfect list. it is truly revolting, indeed, to approach the very _boa-constrictor_ of good society; the snake who comes upon us, not in the natural form of a huge, coarse, slow reptile, but proteus-like, in a thousand different forms; though all displaying at the first sight the boa-bore, ready to slime over every subject of discourse with the vile saliva of selfish vanity. pah! it is repulsive even to speak of the species, numerous, too, as the sands along the shore. some of the class make no ceremony of immediately intruding themselves and their affairs on the attention of a whole party; of silencing every other subject started, however interesting to the company, merely that they may occupy the prominent and most conspicuous position. others again are more dexterous, and with great art will lie on the watch to hook in their own praise. they will call a witness to remember they always foretold what would happen in such a case, but none would believe them; they advised such a man from the beginning, and told him the consequences just as they happened; but he would have his own way. others make a vanity of telling their own faults; they are the strangest men in the world; they cannot dissemble; they own it is a folly; they have lost abundance of advantages by it; but if you would give them the world, they cannot help it; there is something in their nature that abhors insincerity and constraint, with many other insufferable topics of the same altitude. thus, though bores find their account in speaking ill or well of themselves, it is the characteristic of a gentleman that he never speaks of himself at all. la bruyère says, "the great charm of conversation consists less in the display of one's own wit and intelligence, than in the power to draw forth the resources of others; he who leaves you after a long conversation, pleased with himself and the part _he_ has taken in the discourse, will be your warmest admirer. men do not care to admire you, they wish you to be pleased with them; they do not seek for instruction or even amusement from your discourse, but they do wish you to be made acquainted with their talents and powers of conversation; and the true man of genius will delicately make all who come in contact with him feel the exquisite satisfaction of knowing that they have appeared to advantage." i have no desire to condemn my readers to eternal silence; but must inform them that it is not so easy to _shine_ in conversation as many suppose. fluency of tongue and a little modest assurance, though very well for imposing on the unwary, go but a short way when you have to deal with those who are really worth pleasing. how can a person _shine_ by conversation in elegant and educated society, whose thoughts have never ranged beyond the gratification of foolish vanity and mean selfishness; who has never reflected on life, men and manners; whose mind has not turned to the contemplation of the works and wonders of nature; and who, in the events of his own time, has not seen the results of the many deeds of sorrow, shame, greatness, and glory, that crowd the pages of the world's variegated annals? whoever would _shine_ in polite discourse must at least be well versed in the philosophy of life, and possess a fair acquaintance with general and natural history, and the outlines of science. and though he need be neither a poet nor an artist, he must be well read in poetry and acquainted with fine arts; because it is only by their study that taste can be cultivated and fancy guided. a familiarity with the fine arts is necessary, in fact, to give him a just perception of the sublime and beautiful, the very foundation whence our emotions of delight must arise. any one attempting to _shine_ in conversation, without possessing the trifling acquirements here mentioned,--for i have said nothing of learning and science,--will most assuredly make an indifferent figure, and had better therefore content himself with simply pleasing by unaffected cheerfulness and good humor, which is within reach of all. as to subjects for conversation, what difficulty can there be about them? will not books, balls, bonnets and metaphysics furnish pleasant topics of discourse? can you not speak of the "philosophy and science, and the springs of wonder, and the wisdom of the world?"-- are flirtations, traveling, love and speech-making at an end; or is the great globe itself and the weather on its surface so perfectly stationary that you can find nothing to say about them? no, no, let us not deceive ourselves; we never want subjects of conversation; but we often want the knowledge how to treat them; above all, how to bring them forward in a graceful and pleasing manner. we often want observation and a just estimate of character, and do not know how, in the present defective state of society, any passing remark intended to open a conversation may be received. cheerfulness, unaffected cheerfulness, a sincere desire to please and be pleased, unchecked by any efforts to shine, are the qualities you must bring with you into society, if you wish to succeed in conversation. under the influence of their recommendation, you may safely give the rein to fancy and hilarity, certain that, in a well-assorted party, you will make at least a favorable impression, if not a brilliant one. i do not of course mean by cheerfulness any outbreaking of loud and silly mirth, nor what the world sometimes calls a "high flow of spirits," but a light and airy equanimity of temper,--that spirit which never rises to boisterousness, and never sinks to immovable dullness; that moves gracefully from "grave to gay, from serious to serene," and by mere manner gives proof of a feeling heart and generous mind. franklin says, that you must never contradict in conversation, nor correct facts if wrongly stated. this is going much too far; you must never contradict in a short, direct, or positive tone; but with politeness, you may easily, when necessary, express a difference of opinion in a graceful and even complimentary manner. and i would almost say, that the art of conversation consists in knowing _how_ to contradict, and _when_ to be silent; for, as to constantly acting a fawning and meanly deferential part in society, it is offensive to all persons of good sense and good feeling. in regard to facts wrongly stated, no well-bred man ever thinks of correcting them, merely to show his wisdom in trifles; but with politeness, it is perfectly easy to rectify an error, when the nature of the conversation demands the explanation. whenever the lady or gentleman with whom you are discussing a point, whether of love, war, science or politics, begins to sophisticate, drop the subject instantly. your adversary either wants the ability to maintain his opinion,--and then it would be uncivil to press it--or he wants the still more useful ability to yield the point with unaffected grace and good-humor; or what is also possible, his vanity is in some way engaged in defending views on which he may probably have acted, so that to demolish his opinions is perhaps to reprove his conduct, and no well-bred man goes into society for the purpose of sermonizing. all local wits, all those whose jests are understood only within the range of their own circle or coterie, are decided objectionables in general society. it is the height of ill-breeding, in fact, to converse, or jest, on subjects that are not perfectly understood by the party at large; it is a species of rude mystification, as uncivil as whispering, or as speaking in language that may not be familiar to some of the party. but you must not make a fool of yourself, even if others show themselves deficient in good manners; and must not, like inflated simpletons, fancy yourself the object of every idle jest you do not understand, or of every laugh that chance may have called forth. _ladies and gentlemen_ feel that they are neither laughed at nor ridiculed. in society, the object of conversation is of course entertainment and improvement, and it must, therefore, be adapted to the circle in which it is carried on, and must be neither too high nor too deep for the party at large, so that every one may contribute his share, just at his pleasure, and to the best of his ability. let no two or three old indians, old school-fellows, or old brother campaigners, seize upon the conversation to themselves, discuss their former adventures, and keep the rest of a party listening silently to an animated conversation about exploded stories, of which they know nothing and care as little. lord chesterfield advises his son "to speak often, but not to speak much at a time; so that if he does not please, he will not at least displease to any great extent." a good observer should easily, i think, be able to discover whether he pleases or not. rousseau tells us, that "persons who know little talk a great deal, while those who know a great deal say very little." if the discourse is of a grave or serious nature, and interesting to the party, or to any number of the party, never break in upon it with any display of idle wit or levity; for nothing shows so great a want of good manners; nor must you ever ridicule or doubt the existence of any noble enthusiasm that may have called forth expressions of admiration; for there is no want of high worth, patriotism, honor and disinterestedness on earth. your incredulity might therefore be unjust, and it is at all times a proof of bad taste to ridicule what others admire. if you join in the graver conversation, intended to move the deeper feelings of the heart, do so without affectation, without overstretching sentiments, or bringing in far-fetched ideas for the sake of producing effect, otherwise you will be sure to fail. avoid, above all, when on such topics, any stringing together of unmeaning words; for bad as the practice of substituting sound for sense is at all times, it is doubly so when conversation takes the direction of which we are speaking, as it then shows the _jingler_ to want feelings as well as ideas. speak from the heart, when you speak _to_ the heart; only making judgment prune the expressions of deep feeling, without checking the noble sentiments that may have called them forth. the reason which renders this pruning system advisable is, that society swarms with worthy, respectable persons, possessing an ordinary share of superficial good-nature, but so destitute of actual feeling, as not even to understand its language; and who, without being scoffers, will be inclined to laugh at expressions that convey no ideas to their minds. the same reason should serve as a warning to all gentlemen against writing love-letters; for if a gentle swain is really and truly in love, he will write under excited feelings; and a letter written with a palpitating heart, threatening to break a rib at every throb, can hardly fail to appear a little ridiculous in the eyes of all who may not chance to be exactly in the same frame of mind, or possessed of the same degree of feeling with the writer. there is a giggling and laughing tone, in which ladies and gentlemen sometimes endeavor to speak,--an attempt to continue a series of jests from the first to last, which is not only foolish, but actually offensive. conversation can never be kept up to the laughing point during a whole evening,--not even during a morning visit; and efforts to excite laughter by overstrained jests are as repulsive as overstrained efforts to groan and grimace it. the natural flow of discourse must be calm and serene; if wit, whim, fun and fire are present, they will not fail to flash brightly along its surface; but they can never constitute the main body of the stream itself. different parties, different tones no doubt, and an assembly of grave doctors and professors, meeting to discuss some learned subject, may treat it in their own way; here we can only speak of general society. it is said, that the guests at a pleasant dinner party should never exceed the number of the muses, nor fall below that of the graces. and this may be true; but a party of three or four is already very different in character,--independent of the difference occasioned by the characters of the guests,--from what a party of eight or nine will be. in small parties of this kind, numbers alone exercise great influence. but large or small, always recollect that you can have no right to complain of the dullness of the conversation, unless you have contributed your best efforts to render it cheerful. nor is it always right to condemn a person for being silent in company, as this often results from the nature of the party, which may be ill-assorted, though composed of deserving people. no one can maintain a conversation by himself; the very best speaker must still be aided by others, who must lend assistance in the _proper spirit_, _befitting_ the nature of the discourse; for a rude and forward person, wishing to shine, can easily crush the efforts of the most perfect gentleman, and give an unfavorable tone and turn to a pleasant conversation. in ordinary conversation, the modulation and proper management of the voice is a point to which i would particularly call the attention of young ladies; for a fine and melodious voice, "sweet as music on the waters," makes the heart-strings vibrate to their very core. this can only be done by a certain degree of confidence, and by a total absence of affectation; for uncertainty, agitation and striving for effect are always ruinous to the voice of the speaker, which is constantly running against breakers, or getting upon flats. i am certain that temper and disposition are far more generally, and more perfectly marked by the voice and manner of speaking, than we are at all willing to allow. the thin, small voice is the most difficult to manage, as it is liable to degenerate into shrillness; and ladies who have this kind of voice must keep strict guard over their temper, when within hearing of any one on whom they may wish to make a favorable impression; for the very idea of a shrill-voiced scold makes us place our hands to our ears. but with a sweet temper, a pretty, little, harmonious voice is pleasing enough. always recollect, however, that affectation, constraint, or striving for effect, is the certain ruin of the prettiest voice in the world. the very deep-toned voice, though extremely effective when well controlled, has great difficulties; for unless backed by kind, cheerful and airy feeling, by "that bright spirit which is always gladness," it is liable to fall into a coarse, rude and vulgar tone, and should never be heard except at times of brilliant sunshine. the owners of such voices should never think of getting angry, nor even indulge in saying what they may fancy sharp or severe things, as the chances are that they will prove only rude ones. stories, however good--and they are often to be recommended--suffer under one of the disadvantages to which anecdotes are liable,--they do not bear repetition; and no one can be expected to possess a stock that shall furnish new and acceptable wares on every occasion. they form in conversation the resource of those who want imagination, and must be received with indulgence; but to deserve this favor, they must be short, well told, well pointed, and judiciously adapted to the feelings and composition of the party. we have all of us at times known a good story or anecdote introduced under such inappropriate circumstances, as to make a whole party look grave and feel uncomfortable. the honor of demolishing the weavers of long tales shall be left to cowper. "but sedentary weavers of long tales give me the fidgets, and my patience fails. 'tis the most asinine employ on earth, to hear them tell of parentage and birth; and echo conversations dull and dry, embellished with _he said_ and _so said i_. at every interview their route the same, the repetition makes attention lame; we bristle up with unsuccessful speed, and in the saddest part, cry--_droll, indeed_." let the reader only get these verses by heart, and repeat a line occasionally to show that he recollects them, and we shall soon find society relieved from these spinners of dull yarns. some gentlemen have a talent for placing things in a grotesque, exaggerated and ludicrous light; and of extemporizing burlesque anecdotes in a whimsical and amusing manner. it is a happy gift, of which excellent use can be made in society; but tact and taste must, as usual, keep a firm rein, for nothing that is seriously treated by others must ever be burlesqued and turned into ridicule. the grotesque style is only applicable when the ground is fairly open, or when jesting, bantering and exaggeration are the order of the minute; and then it may be rendered charming. let no one suppose that mimicry is to be sanctioned under this head; far from it, indeed. a little graceful imitation of actors and public speakers may be allowed. national manners, and the peculiarities of entire classes, are fair game. french dandies, yankee bargainers, and english exquisites, may be ridiculed at pleasure; you may even bring forward irish porters, cab-drivers and bog-trotters,--_provided_ you can imitate their wit and humor; but i do not think i ever saw any mimicry of private individuals well received by well-bred persons. nor is this to be wondered at, since mimicry borders so closely on buffoonery, as generally to end in absolute vulgarity. ladies, however, may be permitted to mimic their friends a little, provided they rarely indulge in the practice, and never transgress the bounds of good taste and elegance. we meet occasionally in society with persons belonging to a class, not numerous indeed, but deserving notice, as they are mostly ladies, and often worth reclaiming; for want of a better term i shall call them _icicles_, because they only shine and cannot warm. the _icicles_ may be kind, clever, of cultivated mind, and in every respect well disposed to become agreeable,--but cannot speak or converse on any one subject. they are constantly witty and ingenious, place every proposition or general question asked, in some amusing, novel or extravagant light, but never answer or speak up to the point; so that you may converse with them for hours, and be acquainted with them for years, without knowing their opinion upon any one subject; without knowing even whether they have an opinion on any one subject. nor does this always result from affectation, or from efforts to shine; it springs as often from a faulty tone, and the fear of not being sufficiently clever, when attempting to be rational, as from any other source. i have seen persons lose a great deal by this absurd system, and fall far short of what they might have been had they merely followed the beaten track; and as a maxim would have you recollect, that few good things are ever said by those who are constantly striving to say extraordinary ones. general rules for conversation. as order or method are of very little consequence in treating of this subject, i will conclude by giving a series of rules upon the art of conversation, couched in a few words, from which the reader may furnish himself with a competent knowledge of what is to be studied, and what to be avoided. there are few of the following sentences that will not furnish a good deal of thought, or that are to be understood to their full extent without some consideration. whatever passes in parties at your own or another's house is never repeated by well-bred people. things of no moment, and which are meant only as harmless jokes, are liable to produce unpleasant consequences if repeated. to repeat, therefore, any conversation which passes on such occasions, is understood to be a breach of confidence, which should banish the offender from the pale of good society. men of all sorts of occupations meet in society. as they go there to unbend their minds and escape from the fetters of business, you should never, in an evening, speak to a man about his profession. do not talk of politics to a journalist, of fevers to a physician, of stocks to a broker,--nor, unless you wish to enrage him to the utmost, of education to a collegian. the error which is here condemned is often committed from mere good nature and a desire to be affable. but it betrays to a gentleman, ignorance of the world,--to a philosopher, ignorance of human nature. a gentleman will, by all means, avoid showing his learning and accomplishments in the presence of ignorant and vulgar people, who can, by no possibility, understand or appreciate them. it is a pretty sure sign of bad breeding to set people to staring and feeling uncomfortable. in england, it is regarded a breach of etiquette to repeat the name of any person with whom you are conversing. but the same rule does not hold in america. here it is deemed no breach, if you are conversing with a lady by the name of sherwood, to say, "well, _mrs. sherwood_, do you not think," etc. in a mixed company, never speak to your friend of a matter which the rest do not understand, unless it is something which you can explain to them, and which may be made interesting to the whole party. if you wish to inquire about anything, do not do it by asking a question; but introduce the subject, and give the person an opportunity of saying as much as he finds it agreeable to impart. do not even say, "how is your brother to-day?" but "i hope your brother is quite well." never ask a lady a question about anything whatever. by all means, avoid the use of slang terms and phrases in polite company. no greater insult can be offered to polite society than to repeat the slang dictums of bar-rooms and other low places. if you are willing to have it known that you are familiar with such company yourself, you have no right to treat a party of ladies and gentlemen as though they were, too. avoid the habit of employing french words in english conversation; it is extremely bad taste to be always using such expressions as _ci-devant_, _soi-disant_, _en masse_, _couleur de rose_, etc. do not salute your acquaintances with _bon jour_, nor reply to every proposition, _volontiers_. in society, avoid having those peculiar preferences for some subjects which are vulgarly denominated "_hobby-horses_." they make your company a _bore_ to all your friends; and some kind-hearted creature will take advantage of them and _trot_ you, for the amusement of the company. every attempt to obtrude on a company subjects either to which they are indifferent, or of which they are ignorant, is in bad taste. "man should be taught as though you taught him not, and things unknown proposed as things forgot." a man is quite sure to show his good or bad breeding the instant he opens his mouth to talk in company. if he is _a gentleman_ he starts no subject of conversation that can possibly be displeasing to any person present. the ground is common to all, and no one has a right to monopolize any part of it for his own particular opinions, in politics or religion. no one is there to make proselytes, but every one has been invited, to be _agreeable_ and _to please_. he who knows the world, will not be too bashful. he who knows himself, will not be impudent. do not endeavor to shine in all companies. leave room for your hearers to imagine something within you beyond all you have said. and remember, the more you are praised, the more you will be envied. there is no surer sign of vulgarity than the perpetual boasting of the fine things you have at home. if you speak of your silver, of your jewels, of your costly apparel, it will be taken for a sign that you are either lying, or that you were, not long ago, somebody's washerwoman, and cannot forget to be reminding everybody that you are not so now. you need not tell all the truth, unless to those who have a right to know it all. but let all you tell be truth. insult not another for his want of a talent you possess; he may have others, which you want. praise your friends and let your friends praise you. if you treat your inferiors with familiarity, expect the same from them. if you give a jest, take one. let all your jokes be truly jokes. jesting sometimes ends in sad earnest. if a favor is asked of you, grant it, if you can. if not, refuse it in such a manner, as that one denial may be sufficient. if you are in company with a distinguished gentleman--as a governor, or senator--you will not be perpetually trying to trot out his titles, as it would make you appear like a lackey or parasite, who, conscious of no merits of your own, are trying to lift yourself by the company of others. in introducing such a gentleman, you will merely call him "governor," or "senator," and afterwards avoid all allusion to his rank. if you would render yourself pleasing in social parties, never speak to gratify any particular vanity or passion of your own, but always aim to interest or amuse others by themes which you know are in accordance with their tastes and understandings. even a well-bred minister will avoid introducing his professional habits and themes at such places. he knows that the guests were not invited there to listen to a sermon, and there may be some who differ with him in opinions, who would have good reason to feel themselves insulted by being thus forced to listen to him. reproof is a medicine like mercury or opium; if it be improperly administered, with report either to the adviser or the advised, it will do harm instead of good. nothing is more unmannerly than to reflect on any man's profession, sect, or natural infirmity. he who stirs up against himself another's self-love, provokes the strongest passions in human nature. be careful of your word, even in keeping the most trifling appointment. but do not blame another for a failure of that kind, till you have heard his excuse. never offer advice, but where there is some probability of its being followed. if you find yourself in a company which violently abuses an absent friend of yours, you need not feel that you are called upon to take up the club for him. you will do better by saying mildly that they must have been misinformed--that you are proud to call him your friend, which you could not do if you did not know him to be incapable of such things as they had heard. after this, if they are gentlemen, they will stop--indeed, if they had been gentlemen, they would hardly have assailed an absent one in a mixed party; and if you feel constrained to quit their company, it will be no sacrifice to your own self-respect or honor. fools pretend to foretell what will be the issue of things, and are laughed at for their awkward conjectures. wise men, being aware of the uncertainty of human affairs, and having observed how small a matter often produces a great change, are modest in their conjectures. he who talks too fast, outruns his hearer's thoughts. he who speaks too slow, gives his hearer pain by hindering his thoughts, as a rider who frets his horse by reining him in too much. never think to entertain people with what lies out of their way, be it ever so curious in its kind. who would think of regaling a circle of ladies with the beauties of homer's greek, or a mixed company with sir isaac newton's discoveries? do well, but do not boast of it. for that will lessen the commendation you might otherwise have deserved. never ask a question under any circumstances. in the first place, it is too proud; in the second place, it may be very inconvenient or very awkward to give a reply. a lady inquired of what branch of medical practice a certain gentleman was professor. he held the chair of _midwifery_! to offer advice to an angry man, is like blowing against a tempest. too much preciseness and solemnity in pronouncing what one says in common conversation, as if one was preaching, is generally taken for an indication of self-conceit and arrogance. make your company a rarity, and people will value it. men despise what they can easily have. value truth, however you come by it. who would not pick up a jewel that lay on a dung-hill? the beauty of behavior consists in the manner, not the matter of your discourse. it is not in good taste for a lady to say "yes, sir," and "no, sir," to a gentleman, or frequently to introduce the word "sir," at the end of her sentence, unless she desire to be exceedingly reserved toward the person with whom she is conversing. if your superior treats you with familiarity, it will not therefore become you to treat him in the same manner. a good way to avoid impertinent and pumping inquiries, is by answering with another question. an evasion may also serve the purpose. but a lie is inexcusable on any occasion, especially when used to conceal the truth from one who has no authority to demand it. to reprove with success, the following circumstances are necessary, viz.: mildness, secrecy, intimacy, and the esteem of the person you would reprove. if you be nettled with severe raillery, take care never to show that you are stung, unless you choose to provoke more. the way to avoid being made a butt, is not to set up for an archer. to set up for a critic is bullying mankind. reflect upon the different appearances things make to you from what they did some years ago, and don't imagine that your opinion will never alter, because you are extremely positive at present. let the remembrance of your past changes of sentiment make you more flexible. if ever you were in a passion, did you not find reason afterwards to be sorry for it, and will you again allow your self to be guilty of a weakness, which will certainly be in the same manner followed by repentance, besides being attended with pain? never argue with any but men of sense and temper. it is ill-manners to trouble people with talking too much either of yourself, or your affairs. if you are full of yourself, consider that you, and your affairs, are not so interesting to other people as to you. keep silence sometimes, upon subjects which you are known to be a judge of. so your silence, where you are ignorant, will not discover you. to use phrases which admit of a double meaning is ungentlemanly, and, if addressed to a lady, they become positively insulting. there is a vulgar custom, too prevalent, of calling almost everybody "colonel" in this country, of which it is sufficient to say, that this false use of titles prevails most among the lower ranks of society--a fact which sufficiently stamps upon it its real character, and renders it, to say the least, a doubtful compliment to him who has no right to the title. think like the wise; but talk like ordinary people. never go out of the common road, but for somewhat. don't dispute against facts well established, merely because there is somewhat unaccountable in them. that the world should be created of nothing is to us inconceivable but not therefore to be doubted. as you are going to a party of mirth, think of the hazard you run of misbehaving. while you are engaged, do not wholly forget yourself. and after all is over, reflect how you have behaved. if well, be thankful; it is more than you could have promised. if otherwise, be more careful for the future. it will never do to be ignorant of the names and approximate ages of great composers, especially in large cities, where music is so highly appreciated and so common a theme. it will be decidedly condemnatory if you talk of the _new_ opera "don giovanni," or rossini's "trovatore," or are ignorant who composed "fidelio," and in what opera occur such common pieces as "_ciascun lo dice_," or "_il segreto_." i do not say that these trifles are indispensable, and when a man has better knowledge to offer, especially with genius or "cleverness" to back it, he will not only be pardoned for an ignorance of them, but can even take a high tone, and profess indifference or contempt of them. but, at the same time, such ignorance stamps an ordinary man, and hinders conversation. don't talk of "the opera" in the presence of those who are not frequenters of it. they will imagine that you are showing off, or that you are _lying_, and that you have never been to the opera twice in your life. for the same reason, avoid too frequently speaking of your acquaintance with celebrated men, unless you are a public man yourself, who would be supposed to have such acquaintance. do not sit dumb in company. that looks either like pride, cunning, or stupidity. give your opinion modestly, but freely; hear that of others with candor; and ever endeavor to find out, and to communicate truth. in mixed company, be readier to hear than to speak, and put people upon talking of what is in their own way. for then you will both oblige them, and be most likely to improve by their conversation. humanity will direct to be particularly cautious of treating with the least appearance of neglect those who have lately met with misfortunes, and are sunk in life. such persons are apt to think themselves slighted, when no such thing is intended. their minds being already sore, feel the least rub very severely. and who would be so cruel as to add affliction to the afflicted? to smother the generosity of those who have obliged you, is imprudent, as well as ungrateful. the mention of kindnesses received may excite those who hear it to deserve your good word, by imitating the example which they see does others so much honor. learning is like bank-notes. prudence and good behavior are like silver, useful upon all occasions. if you have been once in company with an idle person, it is enough. you need never go again. you have heard all he knows. and he has had no opportunity of learning anything new. for idle people make no improvements. deep learning will make you acceptable to the learned; but it is only an easy and obliging behavior, and entertaining conversation, that will make you agreeable in all companies. men repent speaking ten times for once that they repent keeping silence. it is an advantage to have concealed one's opinion. for by that means you may change your judgment of things (which every wise man finds reason to do) and not be accused of fickleness. there is hardly any bodily blemish, which a winning behavior will not conceal, or make tolerable; and there is no external grace, which ill-nature or affectation will not deform. if you mean to make your side of the argument appear plausible, do not prejudice people against what you think truth by your passionate manner of defending it. there is an affected humility more insufferable than downright pride, as hypocrisy is more abominable than libertinism. take care that your virtues be genuine and unsophisticated. never ask any one who is conversing with you to repeat his words. nothing is ruder than to say, "pardon me, will you repeat that sentence? i did not hear you at first," and thus imply that your attention was wandering when he first spoke. when we speak of ourselves and another person, whether he is absent or present, propriety requires us to mention ourselves last. thus we should say, _he and i_, _you and i_. if a man is telling that which is as old as the hills, or which you believe to be false, the better way is to let him go on. why should you refuse a man the pleasure of believing that he is telling you something which you never heard before? besides, by refusing to believe him, or by telling him that his story is old, you not only mortify him, but the whole company is made uneasy, and, by sympathy, share his mortification. never notice it if others make mistakes in language. to notice by word or look such errors in those around you, is excessively ill-bred. avoid raillery and sarcasm in social parties. they are weapons which few can use; and because you happen to have a razor in your possession, that is no reason why you should be allowed to cut the throats of the rest who are unarmed. malicious jests at the expense of those who are present or absent, show that he who uses them is devoid both of the instincts and habits of a _gentleman_. where two individuals or the whole company agree to banter each other with good-natured sallies of wit, it is very pleasant, but the least taint of ill-nature spoils all. if upon the entrance of a visitor you continue a conversation begun before, you should always explain the subject to the new-comer. if there is any one in the company whom you do not know, be careful how you let off any epigrams or pleasant little sarcasms. you might be very witty upon halters to a man whose father had been hanged. the first requisite for successful conversation is to know your company well. carefully avoid subjects which may be construed into personalities, and keep a strict reserve upon family matters. avoid, if you can, seeing the skeleton in your friend's closet, but if it is paraded for your special benefit, regard it as a sacred confidence, and never betray your knowledge to a third party. listen attentively and patiently to what is said. it is a great and difficult talent to be a good listener, but it is one which the well-bred man has to acquire, at whatever pains. do not anticipate the point of a story which another person is reciting, or take it from his lips to finish it in your own language. to do this is a great breach of etiquette. dr. johnson, whose reputation as a _talker_ was hardly less than that which he acquired as a writer, prided himself on the appositeness of his quotations, the choice of his words, and the correctness of his expressions. had he lived in this "age of progress," he would have discovered that his lexicon was not only incomplete, but required numerous emendations. we can fancy the irritable moralist endeavoring to comprehend the idea which a young lady wishes to convey when she expresses the opinion that a bonnet is "_awful_," or that of a young gentleman, when he asserts that his coat is "_played out_!" avoid the use of proverbs in conversation, and all sorts of cant phrases. this error is, i believe, censured by lord chesterfield, and is one of the most offensively vulgar which a person can commit. it is bad manners to satirize lawyers in the presence of lawyers, or doctors in the presence of one of that calling, and so of all the professions. nor should you rail against bribery and corruption in the presence of politicians, (especially of a new york politician,) or members of congress, as they will have good reason to suppose that you are hinting at them. it is the aim of politeness to leave the arena of social intercourse untainted with any severity of language, or bitterness of feeling. there are places and occasions where wrong must be exposed and reproved, but it is an unpardonable piece of rudeness to attempt such things at your own or another's social party, where everything is carefully to be avoided that can in the least disturb the happiness of any one. for this reason all kinds of controversies are, as a general rule, to be avoided at such times. any conversation (that is not interdicted by decency and propriety) which can be pleasing to the whole company, is desirable. amusement, more than instruction even, is to be sought for in social parties. people are not supposed to come together on such occasions because they are ignorant and need teaching, but to seek amusement and relaxation from professional and daily cares. all the english books on etiquette tell you that "punning is scrupulously to be avoided as a species of ale-house wit," and a savage remark of dr. johnson is usually quoted on the subject. but punning is no more to be avoided than any other kind of wit; and if all wit is to be banished from the social circle, it will be left a stupid affair indeed. all kinds of wit, puns by no means excepted, give a delightful relish to social parties when they spring up naturally and spontaneously out of the themes of conversation. but for a man to be constantly straining himself to make jokes is to make himself ridiculous, and to annoy the whole company, and is, therefore, what no gentleman will be guilty of. talk as little of yourself as possible, or of any science or business in which you have acquired fame. there is a banker in new york who is always certain to occupy the time of every party he gets into, by talking of his _per cents_, and boasting that he _began life without a cent_--which every one readily believes; and if he were to add that he _began life in a pig-pen_, they would believe that too. if you put on a proud carriage, people will want to know what there is in you to be proud of. and it is ten to one whether they value your accomplishments at the same rate as you. and the higher you aspire, they will be the more desirous to mortify you. nothing is more nauseous than apparent self-sufficiency. for it shows the company two things, which are extremely disagreeable: that you have a high opinion of yourself, and that you have comparatively a mean opinion of them. it is the concussion of passions that produces a storm. let an angry man alone, and he will cool off himself. it is but seldom that very remarkable occurrences fall out in life. the evenness of your temper will be in most danger of being troubled by trifles which take you by surprise. it is as obliging in company, especially of superiors, to listen attentively, as to talk entertainingly. don't think of knocking out another person's brains, because he differs in opinion from you. it will be as rational to knock yourself on the head, because you differ from yourself ten years ago. if you want to gain any man's good opinion, take particular care how you behave, the first time you are in company with him. the light you appear in at first, to one who is neither inclined to think well or ill of you, will strongly prejudice him either for or against you. good humor is the only shield to keep off the darts of the satirical railer. if you have a quiver well stored, and are sure of hitting him between the joints of the harness, do not spare him. but you had better not bend your bow than miss your aim. the modest man is seldom the object of envy. in the company of ladies, do not labor to establish learned points by long-winded arguments. they do not care to take too much pains to find out truth. you will forbear to interrupt a person who is telling a story, even though he is making historical mistakes in dates and facts. if he makes mistakes it is his own fault, and it is not your business to mortify him by attempting to correct his blunders in presence of those with whom he is ambitious to stand well. in a dispute, if you cannot reconcile the parties, withdraw from them. you will surely make one enemy, perhaps two, by taking either side in an argument when the speakers have lost their temper. do not _dispute_ in a party of ladies and gentlemen. if a gentleman advances an opinion which is different from ideas you are known to entertain, either appear not to have heard it, or differ with him as gently as possible. you will not say, "sir, you are mistaken!" "sir, you are wrong!" or that you "happen to know better;" but you will rather use some such phrase as, "pardon me--if i am not mistaken," etc. this will give him a chance to say some such civil thing as that he regrets to disagree with you; and if he has not the good manners to do it, you have, at any rate, established your own manners as those of a gentleman in the eyes of the company. and when you have done that, you need not trouble yourself about any opinions he may advance contrary to your own. if you talk sentences, do not at the same time give yourself a magisterial air in doing it. an easy conversation is the only agreeable one, especially in mixed company. be sure of the fact, before you lose time in searching for a cause. if you have a friend that will reprove your faults and foibles, consider you enjoy a blessing, which the king upon the throne cannot have. in disputes upon moral or scientific points, ever let your aim be to come at truth, not to conquer your opponent. so you never shall be at a loss in losing the argument, and gaining a new discovery. what may be very entertaining in company with ignorant people, may be tiresome to those who know more of the matter than yourself. there is a sort of accidental and altogether equivocal type of city women, who never get into the country, but they employ their time in trying to astonish the country people with narrations of the fine things they left behind them in the city. if they have a dirty little closet, with ten valueless books in it, they will call it their _library_. if they have some small room, that is used as kitchen, parlor, and dining-room, they will magnify it into a _drawing-room_. and a hundred other _little_ signs of their _great_ vulgarity they will constantly insist on exhibiting to their country auditors. put yourself on the same level as the person to whom you speak, and under penalty of being considered a pedantic idiot, refrain from explaining any expression or word that you may use. if you are really a wit, remember that in conversation its true office consists more in finding it in others, than showing off a great deal of it yourself. he who goes out of your company pleased with himself is sure to be pleased with you. even as great a man as dr. johnson once retired from a party where everybody had spent the evening in listening to him, and remarked, as he went out, "we have had a pleasant evening, and much excellent conversation." if you happen to fall into company where the talk runs into party, obscenity, scandal, folly, or vice of any kind, you had better pass for morose or unsocial, among people whose good opinion is not worth having, than shock your own conscience by joining in conversation which you must disapprove of. if you would have a right account of things from illiterate people, let them tell their story in their own way. if you put them upon talking according to logical rules, you will quite confound them. i was much pleased with the saying of a gentleman, who was engaged in a friendly argument with another upon a point in morals. "you and i [says he to his antagonist] seem, as far as i hitherto understand, to differ considerably in our opinions. let us, if you please, try wherein we can agree." the scheme in most disputes is to try who shall conquer, or confound the other. it is therefore no wonder that so little light is struck out in conversation, where a candid inquiry after truth is the least thing thought of. by all means, shun the vulgar habit of joking at the expense of women. all such tricks as refusing a lady a piece of tongue, because "_women already have tongue enough_," are as vulgar as they are old and stale. the man who does not respect woman, exposes himself to the suspicion of associating generally with the fallen portion of the sex. and besides, he has no right to make a respectable parlor or drawing-room the theater of such vulgar jokes and railing against the sex as go down in low society. if a man complains to you of his wife, a woman of her husband, a parent of a child, or a child of a parent, be very cautious how you meddle between such near relations, to blame the behavior of one to the other. you will only have the hatred of both parties, and do no good with either. but this does not hinder your giving both parties, or either, your best advice in a prudent manner. be prudently secret. but don't affect to make a secret of what all the world may know, nor give yourself airs of being as close as a conspirator. you will better disappoint idle curiosity by seeming to have nothing to conceal. never blame a friend without joining some commendation to make reproof go down. it is by giving free rein to folly, in conversation and action, that people expose themselves to contempt and ridicule. the modest man may deprive himself of some part of the applause of some sort of people in conversation, by not shining altogether so much as he might have done. or he may deprive himself of some lesser advantages in life by his reluctancy in putting himself forward. but it is only the rash and impetuous talker, or actor, that effectually exposes himself in company, or ruins himself in life. it is therefore easy to determine which is the safest side to err on. it is a base temper in mankind, that they will not take the smallest slight at the hand of those who have done them the greatest kindness. if you fall into the greatest company, in a natural and unforced way, look upon yourself as one of them; and do not sneak, nor suffer any one to treat you unworthily, without just showing that you know behavior. but if you see them disposed to be rude, overbearing, or purse-proud, it will be more decent and less troublesome to retire, than to wrangle with them. there cannot be any practice more offensive than that of taking a person aside to whisper in a room with company; yet this rudeness is of frequent occurrence--and that with those who know it to be improper. if at any time you chance, in conversation, to get on a side of an argument which you find not to be tenable, or any other way over-shoot yourself, turn off the subject in as easy and good humored a way as you can. if you proceed still, and endeavor, right or wrong, to make your first point good, you will only entangle yourself the more, and in the end expose yourself. never over-praise any absent person, especially ladies, in company of ladies. it is the way to bring envy and hatred upon those whom you wish well to. to try whether your conversation is likely to be acceptable to people of sense, imagine what you say written down, or printed, and consider how it would read; whether it would appear natural, improving and entertaining; or affected, unmeaning, or mischievous. it is better, in conversation with positive men, to turn off the subject in dispute with some merry conceit, than keep up the contention to the disturbance of the company. don't give your advice upon any extraordinary emergency, nor your opinion upon any difficult point, especially in company of eminent persons, without first taking time to deliberate. if you say nothing, it may not be known whether your silence was owing to the ignorance of the subject, or to modesty. if you give a rash and crude opinion, you are effectually and irrecoverably exposed. if you fill your fancy, while you are in company, with suspicions of their thinking meanly of you; if you puff yourself up with imaginations of appearing to them a very witty, or profound person; if you discompose yourself with fears of misbehaving before them, or in any way put yourself out of yourself, you will not appear in your natural color, but in that of an affected, personated character, which is always disagreeable. it may be useful to study, at leisure, a variety of proper phrases for such occasions as are most frequent in life, as civilities to superiors, expressions of kindness to inferiors; congratulations, condolence, expressions of gratitude, acknowledgment of faults, asking or denying of favors, etc. i prescribe no particular phrases, because, our language continually fluctuating, they must soon become stiff and unfashionable. the best method of acquiring the accomplishment of graceful and easy manner of expression for the common occasions of life, is attention and imitation of well-bred people. nothing makes a man appear more contemptible than barrenness, pedantry, or impropriety of expression. avoid flattery. a delicate compliment is permissible in conversation, but flattery is broad, coarse, and to sensible people, disgusting. if you flatter your superiors, they will distrust you, thinking you have some selfish end; if you flatter ladies, they will despise you, thinking you have no other conversation. if you meet an ill-bred fellow in company, whose voice and manners are offensive to you, you cannot resent it at the time, because by so doing you compel the whole company to be spectators of your quarrel, and the pleasure of the party would be spoiled. if you must speak upon a difficult point, be the last speaker if you can. you will not be agreeable to company, if you strive to bring in or keep up a subject unsuitable to their capacities, or humor. you will never convince a man of ordinary sense by overbearing his understanding. if you dispute with him in such a manner as to show a due deference for his judgment, your complaisance may win him, though your saucy arguments could not. avoid appearing dogmatical and too positive in any assertions you make, which can possibly be subject to any contradiction. he that is peremptory in his own story, may meet with another as positive as himself to contradict him, and then the two sir positives will be sure to have a skirmish. the frequent use of the name of god, or the devil; allusions to passages of scripture; mocking at anything serious and devout, oaths, vulgar by-words, cant phrases, affected hard words, when familiar terms will do as well; scraps of _latin_, _greek_ or _french_; quotations from plays spoke in a theatrical manner--all these, much used in conversation, render a person very contemptible to grave and wise men. if you send people away from your company well-pleased with themselves, you need not fear but they will be well enough pleased with you, whether they have received any instruction from you or not. most people had rather be pleased than instructed. if you can express yourself to be perfectly understood in ten words, never use a dozen. go not about to prove, by a long series of reasoning, what all the world is ready to own. if any one takes the trouble of finding fault with you, you ought in reason to suppose he has some regard for you, else he would not run the hazard of disobliging you, and drawing upon himself your hatred. do not ruffle or provoke any man; why should any one be the worse for coming into company with you? be not yourself provoked. why should you give any man the advantage over you? to say that one has opinions very different from those commonly received, is saying that he either loves singularity, or that he thinks for himself. which of the two is the case, can only be found by examining the grounds of his opinions. don't appear to the public too sure, or too eager upon any project. if it should miscarry, which it is a chance but it does, you will be laughed at. the surest way to prevent which, is not to tell your designs or prospects in life. if you give yourself a loose tongue in company, you may almost depend on being pulled to pieces as soon as your back is turned, however they may seem entertained with your conversation. for common conversation, men of ordinary abilities will upon occasion do well enough. and you may always pick something out of any man's discourse, by which you may profit. for an intimate friend to improve by, you must search half a country over, and be glad if you can find him at last. don't give your time to every superficial acquaintance: it is bestowing what is to you of inestimable worth, upon one who is not likely to be the better for it. if a person has behaved to you in an unaccountable manner, don't at once conclude him a bad man, unless you find his character given up by all who know him, nor then, unless the facts alleged against him be undoubtedly proved, and wholly inexcusable. but this is not advising you to trust a person whose character you have any reason to suspect. nothing can be more absurd than the common way of fixing people's characters. such a one has disobliged me, therefore he is a villain. such another has done me a kindness, therefore he is a saint. superficial people are more agreeable the first time you are in their company, than ever afterwards. men of judgment improve every succeeding conversation; beware therefore of judging by one interview. you will not anger a man so much by showing him that you hate him, as by expressing a contempt of him. most women had rather have any of their good qualities slighted, than their beauty. yet that is the most inconsiderable accomplishment of a woman of real merit. you will be always reckoned by the world nearly of the same character with those whose company you keep. you will please so much the less, if you go into company determined to shine. let your conversation appear to rise out of thoughts suggested by the occasion, not strained or premeditated: nature always pleases: affectation is always odious. on dress. it is hardly necessary to remind the reader that dress, though often considered a trifling matter, is one of considerable importance, for a man's personal appearance is a sort of "index and obscure prologue" to his character. lord chesterfield has said, "i cannot help forming some opinion of a man's sense and character from his dress." besides, the appearance of a well-dressed man commands a certain degree of respect which would never be shown to a sloven. as shakspeare has written, "the world is still deceived by ornament;" and there are those who associate fine clothes with fine people so strongly, that they do not trouble themselves to ascertain whether the wearers are worthy of respect, as others form their opinions of books by the gilding of the leaves and beauty of the binding. the dress of a gentleman should be such as not to excite any special observation, unless it be for neatness and propriety. the utmost care should be exercised to avoid even the appearance of desiring to attract attention by the peculiar formation of any article of attire, or by the display of an immoderate quantity of jewelry, both being a positive evidence of vulgarity. his dress should be studiously neat, leaving no other impression than that of a well-dressed gentleman. well-bred people do not often dress in what is called the "height of the fashion," as that is generally left to dandies and pretenders. but still it is undoubtedly a great point gained to be well dressed. to be fancifully dressed, in gaudy colors, is to be very badly dressed, however, and is an example of ill taste which is rarely met with among people of substantial good breeding. cleanliness and neatness are the invariable accompaniments of good breeding. every gentleman may not be dressed expensively, he may not be able to do so; but water is cheap, and no gentleman will ever go into company unmindful of cleanliness either in his person or apparel. a well-dressed man does not require so much an extensive as a varied wardrobe. he wants a different costume for every season and every occasion; but if what he selects is simple rather than striking, he may appear in the same clothes as often as he likes, as long as they are fresh and appropriate to the season and the object. there are four kinds of coats which he must have: a business coat, a frock-coat, a dress-coat, and an over-coat. a well dressed man may do well with four of the first, and one of each of the others per annum. an economical man can get along with less. did any lady ever see a gentleman with an embroidered waistcoat, and a profusion of chains, rings, and trinkets adorning his person? avoid affecting singularity in dress. expensive dressing is no sign of a gentleman. if a gentleman is able to dress expensively it is very well for him to do so, but if _he is not able_ to wear ten-dollar broadcloth, he may comfort himself with the reflection that cloth which costs but five dollars a yard will look quite as well when made into a well-fitting coat. with this suit, and well-made shoes, clean gloves, a white pocket-handkerchief, and an easy and graceful deportment withal, he may pass muster as a gentleman. manners do quite as much to set off a suit of clothes as clothes do to set off a graceful person. a dress perfectly suited to a tall, good-looking man, may render one who is neither, ridiculous; as although the former may wear a remarkable waistcoat or singular coat, _almost_ with impunity, the latter, by adopting a similar costume, exposes himself to the laughter of all who see him. an unassuming simplicity in dress should always be preferred, as it prepossesses every one in favor of the wearer. avoid what is called the "ruffianly style of dress," or the _nonchalant_ and _slouching_ appearance of a half-unbuttoned vest, and suspenderless pantaloons. that sort of affectation is if possible even more disgusting than the painfully elaborate frippery of the dandy. gentlemen never make any display of jewelry; that is given up entirely to the dominion of female taste. but ladies of good taste seldom wear it in the morning. it is reserved for evening display and for brilliant parties. the native independence of american character regards with disdain many of the stringent social laws which are recognized in england and on the continent. thus, the dress which many of our countryman adopt for the assembly-room and private parties would subject them to serious annoyance abroad. a frock-coat would not be tolerated a moment in any fashionable society in europe, and whether it be esteemed a prejudice or otherwise, we are free to confess that in our opinion it is a violation of good taste, and unsuited either to a ball-room or private assembly. we should, however, be far from denying the claim of gentleman to any person, simply because he wore a frock-coat; for the fickle goddess, fashion, tolerates it to a certain extent in america; but if the universal custom among the refined and polished members of society were to exclude it, as in europe, its use would manifest a contempt for the opinion of others, of which no gentleman could be guilty. if the title of gentleman should depend entirely and solely on one's conformation to the laws of etiquette, the most unprincipled profligate or debauchee might successfully wear it; it is, however, but the finish and polish of the jewel--not the diamond itself. if we were allowed to say anything to the ladies concerning dress in a dictatorial way, and were sure of being obeyed, we should order them generally to dress _less_. how often do we see a female attired in the height of fashion, perfectly gorgeous in costume, sweeping along the dusty street, perspiring under the weight of her finery--dressed, in fact, in a manner fit only for a carriage. this is a very mistaken and absurd fashion, and such people would be astonished to see the simplicity of real aristocracy as regards dress. in our allusions to the dress of a gentleman, we have urged a studied simplicity of apparel; the same remarks are equally applicable to that of a lady. indeed, _simplicity_ is the grand secret of a lady's toilet. when she burdens herself with a profusion of _bijouterie_ she rather detracts from than adds to her personal appearance, while all _outré_ fashions and ultra styles of dress, though they excite attention, neither win respect nor enhance the attraction of the wearer. some ladies, perhaps imagining that they are deficient in personal charms--and we are willing to believe that there are such, although the chesterfieldian school of philosophers would ridicule the idea--endeavor to make their clothes the spell of their attraction. with this end in view, they labor by lavish expenditure to supply in expensive adornment what they lack in beauty of form or feature. unfortunately for their success, elegant dressing does not depend upon expense. a lady might wear the costliest silks that italy could produce, adorn herself with laces from brussels which years of patient toil are required to fabricate; she might carry the jewels of an eastern princess around her neck and upon her wrists and fingers, yet still, in appearance, be essentially vulgar. these were as nothing without grace, without adaptation, without a harmonious blending of colors, without the exercise of discrimination and good taste. the most appropriate and becoming dress is that which so harmonizes with the figure as to make the apparel unobserved. when any particular portion of it excites the attention, there is a defect, for the details should not present themselves first but the result of perfect dressing should be an _elegant woman_, the dress commanding no especial regard. men are but indifferent judges of the material of a lady's dress; in fact, they care nothing about the matter. a modest countenance and pleasing figure, habited in an inexpensive attire, would win more attention from men, than awkwardness and effrontery, clad in the richest satins of stewart and the costliest gems of tiffany. there are occasionally to be found among both sexes, persons who neglect their dress through a ridiculous affectation of singularity, and who take pride in being thought utterly indifferent to their personal appearance. millionaires are very apt to manifest this characteristic, but with them it generally arises through a miserly penuriousness of disposition; their imitators, however, are even more deficient than they in common sense. lavater has urged that persons habitually attentive to their attire, display the same regularity in their domestic affairs. he also says: "young women who neglect their toilet and manifest little concern about dress, indicate a general disregard of order--a mind but ill adapted to the details of housekeeping--a deficiency of taste and of the qualities that inspire love." hence the desire of exhibiting an amiable exterior is essentially requisite in a young lady, for it indicates cleanliness, sweetness, a love of order and propriety, and all those virtues which are attractive to their associates, and particularly to those of the other sex. chesterfield asserts that a sympathy goes through every action of our lives, and that he could not help conceiving some idea of people's sense and character from the dress in which they appeared when introduced to him. another writer has remarked that he never yet met with a woman whose general style of dress was chaste, elegant and appropriate, that he did not find her on further acquaintance to be, in disposition and mind, an object to admire and love. the fair sex have the reputation of being passionately fond of dress, and the love of it has been said to be natural to women. we are not disposed to deny it, but we do not regard it as a weakness nor a peculiarity to be condemned. dress is the appropriate finish of beauty. some one has said that, "without dress a handsome person is a gem, but a gem that is not set. but dress," he further remarks, "must be consistent with the graces and with nature." "taste," says a celebrated divine, "requires a congruity between the internal character and the external appearance; the imagination will involuntarily form to itself an idea of such a correspondence. first ideas are, in general, of considerable consequence. i should therefore think it wise in the female world to take care that their _appearance_ should not convey a forbidding idea to the most superficial observer." as we have already remarked, the secret of perfect dressing is simplicity, costliness being no essential element of real elegance. we have to add that everything depends upon the judgment and good taste of the wearer. these should always be a harmonious adaptation of one article of attire to another, as also to the size, figure and complexion of the wearer. there should be a correspondence in all parts of a lady's toilet, so as to present a perfect entirety. thus, when we see a female of light, delicate complexion, penciling her eyebrows until they are positively black, we cannot but entertain a contempt for her lack of taste and good sense. there is a harmony in nature's tints which art can never equal, much less improve. a fair face is generally accompanied by blue eyes, light hair, eyebrows and lashes. there is a delicacy and harmonious blending of correspondences which are in perfect keeping; but if you sully the eyebrows with blackness, you destroy all similitude of feature and expression, and almost present a deformity. we cannot but allude to the practice of using white paints, a habit strongly to be condemned. if for no other reason than that poison lurks beneath every layer, inducing paralytic affections and premature death, they should be discarded--but they are a disguise which deceives no one, even at a distance; there is a ghastly deathliness in the appearance of the skin after it has been painted, which is far removed from the natural hue of health. the hostess should be particularly careful not to outshine her guests. we have seen many instances where a lady, fond of dress, (and what lady is not fond of dress?) and conscious that it is unbecoming to dress to excess when visitors are invited, yet so unable to restrain the desire of display, has made the whole of her guests look shabby, by the contrast of her own gay colors. to dress meanly is a mark of disrespect to the company, but it is equally so to make a very gay appearance. if you make a grand display yourself, you are apt to appear as if you wished to parade your appearance, and it is always safer to be under than over the mark. in going out, consider the sort of company you are likely to meet, and endeavor to assimilate to them as much as possible--for to make a great display elsewhere is an evidence of bad taste. but here if you miss the happy medium, dress above the mark rather than below it, for you may dress more out of doors than you may at home. where dancing is expected to take place, no one should go without new kid gloves; nothing is so revolting as to see one person in an assembly ungloved, especially where the heat of the room, and the exercise together, are sure to make the hands redder than usual. always wear your gloves in church or in a theater. we may add a few general maxims, applied to both sexes, and our task will be done. "all affectation in dress," says chesterfield, "implies a flaw in the understanding." one should, therefore, avoid being singular, or attracting the notice, and the tongues of the sarcastic, by being eccentric. never dress against any one. choose those garments which suit you, and look well upon you, perfectly irrespective of the fact that a lady or gentleman in the same village or street may excel you. when dressed for company, strive to appear as easy and natural as if you were in undress. nothing is more distressing to a sensitive person, or more ridiculous to one gifted with an _esprit moqueur_, than to see a lady laboring under the consciousness of a fine gown; or a gentleman who is stiff, awkward, and ungainly in a bran-new coat. dress according to your age. it is both painful and ridiculous to see an old lady dressed as a belle of four-and-twenty, or an old fellow, old enough for a grandfather, affecting the costume and the manners of a _beau_. young men should be _well_ dressed. not foppishly, but neatly and well. an untidy person at five-and-twenty, degenerates, very frequently, into a sloven and a boor at fifty. be not too negligent, nor too studied in your attire; and lastly, let your behavior and conversation suit the clothes you wear, so that those who know you may feel that, after all, dress and external appearance is the least portion of a lady or gentleman. introductions. the custom which prevails in country places of introducing everybody you meet to each other, is both an annoying and an improper one. as a general rule, introductions ought not to be made, except where there is undoubted evidence that the acquaintance would be mutually agreeable and proper. but if you should find an agreeable person in private society, who seems desirous of making your acquaintance, there cannot be any objection to your meeting his advances half way, although the ceremony of an "introduction" may not have taken place; his presence in your friend's house being a sufficient guarantee for his respectability, as of course if he were an improper person he would not be there. it is customary in introducing people, to present the youngest person to the oldest, or the humblest to the highest in position, if there is any distinction. in introducing a gentleman to a lady, address her first, thus: "miss mason, permit me to present you to mr. kent;" or, "mr. trevor, i have the pleasure of presenting to you mr. marlow." when one lady is married, and the other single, present the single lady to the matron--"miss harris, allow me to introduce you to mrs. martin." when you introduce parties whom you are quite sure will be pleased with each other, it is well to add, after the introduction, that you take great pleasure in making them acquainted, which will be an assurance to each that you think they are well matched, and thus they are prepared to be friends from the start. in introducing parties, be careful to pronounce each name distinctly, as there is nothing more awkward than to have one's name miscalled. in introducing a foreigner, it is proper to present him as "mr. leslie, from england;" "mr. la rue from france." likewise when presenting an american who has recently returned after traveling in distant lands, make him known as "mr. dunlap, lately from france," or "mr. meadows, recently from italy." it is very easy to make these slight specifications, and they at once afford an opening for conversation between the two strangers, for nothing will be more natural than to ask "the recently arrived" something about his voyage, or the places he has seen during his travels. when presenting a governor, designate the state he governs--as, "governor fenton of new york." in introducing a member of congress, mention the state to which he belongs, as "mr. sherman of ohio," or "mr. banks of massachusetts." do not forget that congress includes the two legislative bodies. when introducing any of the members of your own family, mention the name in an audible tone. it is not considered sufficient to say "my father," "my mother," "my sister," or "my brother." but say, "my father, mr. stanley," "my brother, mr. weston," "my sister, miss or mrs. hope." it is best to be explicit in all these things, for there may be more than one surname in the family. the eldest daughter should be introduced by her surname only, as, "miss sherwood," her younger sisters, as "miss maud sherwood," "miss mary sherwood." in presenting a clergyman, do not neglect to put "reverend" before his name. if he is a d. d. say, "the reverend doctor." if he is a bishop, then the word bishop is sufficient. when you are introduced to a person, be careful not to appear as though you had never heard of him before. if he happens to be a person of any distinction, such a mistake would be unpardonable, and no person is complimented by being reminded of the fact that his name is unknown. if by any misfortune you have been introduced to a person whose acquaintance you do not desire, you can merely make the formal bow of etiquette when you meet him, which, of itself, encourages no familiarity; but _the bow is indispensable_, for he cannot be thought a gentleman who would pass another with a vacant stare, after having been formally presented to him. by so doing, he would offer a slight which would justly make him appear contemptible even in the eyes of the person he means to humble. what is called "cutting" another is never practiced by gentlemen or ladies, except in some extraordinary instances of bad conduct on the part of the individual thus sacrificed. an increased degree of ceremony and formal politeness is the most delicate way of withdrawing from an unpleasant acquaintance. indeed, what is called "cutting" is rarely ever practiced by well-bred ladies and gentlemen. on introduction in a room, a married lady generally offers her hand, a young lady not; in a ball-room, where the introduction is to dancing, not to friendship, you never shake hands; and as a general rule, an introduction is not followed by shaking hands--only by a bow. it may perhaps be laid down, that the more public the place of introduction, the less hand-shaking takes place; but if the introduction be particular, if it be accompanied by personal recommendation, such as, "i want you to know my friend jones," then you give jones your hand, and warmly too. it is understood in society, that a person who has been _properly_ introduced to you, has some claim on your good offices in future; you cannot therefore slight him without good reason, and the chance of being called to an account for it. letters of introduction. letters of introduction are to be regarded as certificates of respectability, and are therefore never to be given where you do not feel sure on this point. to send a person of whom you know nothing into the confidence and family of a friend, is an unpardonable recklessness. in england, letters of introduction are called "tickets to soup," because it is generally customary to invite a gentleman to dine who comes with a letter of introduction to you. such is also the practice, to some extent, in this country, but etiquette _here_ does not make the dinner so essential as _there_. in england, the party holding a letter of introduction never takes it himself to the party to whom it is addressed, but he sends it with his card of address. in france, and on the continent of europe generally, directly the reverse is the fashion. in america the english custom generally prevails; though where a young gentleman has a letter to one who is many years his senior, or to one whose aid he seeks in some enterprise, he takes it at once himself. when a gentleman, bearing a letter of introduction to you, leaves his card, you should call on him, or send a note, as early as possible. there is no greater insult than to treat a letter of introduction with indifference--it is a slight to the stranger as well as to the introducer, which no subsequent attentions will cancel. after you have made this call, it is, to some extent, optional with you as to what further attentions you shall pay the party. in this country everybody is supposed to be very busy, which is always a sufficient excuse for not paying elaborate attentions to visitors. it is not demanded that any man shall neglect his business to wait upon visitors or guests. do not imagine these little ceremonies to be insignificant and beneath your attention; they are the customs of society; and if you do not conform to them, you will gain the unenviable distinction of being pointed out as an ignorant, ill-bred person. not that you may _care_ the more for strangers by showing them civility, but you should scrupulously avoid the imputation of being deficient in good-breeding; and if you do not choose to be polite for _their_ sakes, you ought to be so for _your own_. letters of introduction should only be given by actual friends of the persons addressed, and to actual friends of their own. never, if you are wise, give a letter to a person whom you do not know, nor address one to one whom you know slightly. the letter of introduction, if actually given to its bearer, should be left unsealed, that he may not incur the fate of the persian messenger, who brought tablets of introduction recommending the new acquaintance to cut his head off. a letter of this kind must therefore be carefully worded, stating in full the name of the person introduced, but with as few remarks about him as possible. it is generally sufficient to say that he is a friend of yours, whom you trust your other friend will receive with attention, etc. in traveling it is well to have as many letters as possible, but not to pin your faith on them. dinner parties. invitations to dine, from a married party, are sent in some such form as the following: mr. and mrs. a---- present their compliments to mr. and mrs. b----, and request the honor, [or hope to have the pleasure] of their company to dinner on wednesday, the th of december next, at seven. a---- street, november th, --. r. s. v. p. the letters in the corner imply "_répondez, s'il vous plait_;" meaning, "an answer will oblige." the reply, accepting the invitation, is concluded in the following terms: mr. and mrs. b---- present their compliments to mr. and mrs. a----, and will do themselves the honor, [or will have much pleasure in] accepting their kind invitation to dinner on the th of december next. b---- square, november st, --. the answer to invitations to dine, accepting or declining, should be sent immediately, and are always addressed to the lady. if, after you have accepted an invitation, anything occurs to render it impossible for you to go, the lady should be informed of it immediately. it is a great breach of etiquette not to answer an invitation as soon after it is received as possible, and it is an insult to disappoint when we have promised. cards or invitations for a dinner party, should be issued at least two weeks beforehand, and care should be taken by the hostess, in the selection of the invited guests, that they should be suited to each other. much also of the pleasure of the dinner-party will depend on the arrangement of the guests at table, so as to form a due admixture of talkers and listeners, the grave and the gay. letters or cards of invitation should always name the hour of dinner; and well-bred people will arrive as nearly at the specified time as they can. be sure and not be a minute behind the time, and you should not get there long before, unless the invitation requests you particularly to come early for a little chat before dinner. it is always best for the lady of the house, where a dinner-party is to come off, to be dressed and ready to appear in the drawing-room as early as possible, so that if any of the guests should happen to come a little early, she may be prepared to receive them. it is awkward for both parties where visitors arrive before the lady of the house is ready for them. if it is necessary for her to keep an eye upon the dinner, it is still best that she should familiarly receive her guests, and beg to be excused, if it is necessary for her to vanish occasionally to the kitchen. a real lady is not ashamed to have it known that she goes into the kitchen; on the contrary, it is more likely that she will be a little proud of being thought capable of superintending the preparing feast. it is not in good taste for the lady of the house, where a dinner-party is given, to dress very much. she leaves it for her lady-guests to make what display they please, and she offers no rivalry to their fine things. she contents herself with a tasty _négligé_, which often proves the most fascinating equipment after all, especially, if the cheeks become a little flushed with natural bloom, in consequence of the exercise and anxiety incident to the reception of the guests. the half hour before dinner has always been considered as the great ordeal through which the lady of the house, in giving a dinner-party, will either pass with flying colors, or lose many of her laurels. the anxiety to receive her guests, her hope that all will be present in good time, her trust in the skill of her cook, and the attention of the other domestics all tend to make the few minutes a trying time. the lady however, must display no kind of agitation, but show her tact in suggesting light and cheerful subjects of conversation, which will be much aided by the introduction of any particular new book, curiosity of art, or article of _virtu_, which may pleasantly engage the attention of the company. "waiting for dinner," however, is a trying time, and there are few who have not felt---- "how sad it is to sit and pine, the long _half-hour_ before we dine! upon our watches oft we look, then wonder at the clock and cook, and strive to laugh in spite of fate! but laughter forced, soon quits the room, and leaves it to its former gloom. but lo! the dinner now appears, the object of our hope and fears, the end of all our pain!" in giving an entertainment of this kind, the lady should remember that it is her duty to make her guests feel happy, comfortable, and quite at their ease; and the guests should also consider that they have come to the house of their hostess to be happy. when dinner is on the table, the lady and gentleman of the house will have an opportunity of showing their tact by seeing that the most distinguished guests, or the _oldest_, are shown into the dining-room first, and by making those companions at the table who are most likely to be agreeable to each other. the lady of the house may lead the way, or follow her guests into the dining-room, as she pleases. among those who delight to follow the etiquette of the english nobility, the latter practice is followed. but the practice must not be considered a test of good breeding in america. if the lady leads, the husband will follow behind the guests, with the lady on his arm who is to sit at his side. the old custom is still followed to some extent in this country, of the lady taking the head of the table, with the two most favored guests seated, the one at her right and the other at her left hand; while the gentleman of the house takes the foot of the table, supported on each side by the two ladies most entitled to consideration. but this old rule is by no means slavishly followed in polite society in this country. in order to be able to watch the course of the dinner, and to see that nothing is wanting to their guests, the lady and gentleman of the house usually seat themselves in the centre of the table, opposite each other. when all the guests are seated, the lady of the house serves in plates, from a pile at her left hand, the soup, which she sends round, beginning with her neighbors right and left, and continuing till all are helped. these first plates usually pass twice, for each guest endeavors to induce his neighbor to accept what was sent to him. the gentleman then carves, or causes to be carved by some expert guest, the large pieces, in order afterwards to do the other honors himself. if you have no skill in carving meats, do not attempt it; nor should you ever discharge this duty except when your good offices are solicited by him; neither can we refuse anything sent us from his hand. habits at table. as soon as dinner is announced, the host or hostess will give the signal for leaving the drawing-room, and in all probability you will be requested to escort one of the ladies to the table. if this should occur, offer the lady your left arm, and at the table remain standing until every lady is seated, then take the place assigned to you by the hostess. when you leave the parlor, pass out first, and the lady will follow you, still lightly holding your arm. at the door of the dining-room, the lady will drop your arm. you should then pass in, and wait at one side of the entrance till she passes you. having arrived at the table, each gentleman respectfully salutes the lady whom he conducts, who in her turn, also bows and takes her seat. nothing indicates the good breeding of a gentleman so much as his manners at table. there are a thousand little points to be observed, which, although not absolutely necessary, distinctly stamp the refined and well-bred man. a man may pass muster by _dressing well_, and may sustain himself tolerably in conversation; but if he be not perfectly _"au fait," dinner_ will betray him. any unpleasant peculiarity, abruptness, or coarseness of manners, is especially offensive at table. people are more easily disgusted at that time than at any other. all such acts as leaning over on one side in your chair, placing your elbows on the table, or on the back of your neighbor's chair, gaping, twisting about restlessly in your seat, are to be avoided as heresies of the most infidel stamp at table. though the body at table should always be kept in a tolerably upright and easy position, yet one need not sit bolt-upright, as stiff and prim as a poker. to be easy, to be natural, and to appear comfortable, is the deportment required. always go to a dinner as neatly dressed as possible. the expensiveness of your apparel is not of much importance, but its freshness and cleanliness are indispensable. the hands and finger-nails require especial attention. it is a great insult to every lady at the table for a man to sit down to dinner with his hands in a bad condition. it is considered vulgar to take fish or soup twice. the _reason_ for not being helped twice to fish or soup at a large dinner-party is, because by doing so you keep three parts of the company staring at you whilst waiting for the second course, which is spoiling, much to the annoyance of the mistress of the house. the selfish greediness, therefore, of so doing constitutes its vulgarity. at a family dinner it is of less importance, and is consequently often done. you will sip your soup as quietly as possible from the side of the spoon, and you, of course, will not commit the vulgarity of blowing in it, or trying to cool it, after it is in your mouth, by drawing in an unusual quantity of air, for by so doing you would be sure to annoy, if you did not turn the stomach of the lady or gentleman next to you. be careful and do not touch either your knife or your fork until after you have finished eating your soup. leave your spoon in your soup plate, that the servant may remove them. never _use your knife to convey_ your food to your mouth, _under any circumstances_; it is unnecessary, and glaringly vulgar. feed yourself with a _fork_ or _spoon_, _nothing else_--a knife is only to be used for cutting. if at dinner you are requested to help any one to sauce, do not pour it over the meat or vegetables, but on one side. if you should have to carve and help a joint, do not load a person's plate--it is vulgar; also in serving soup, one ladleful to each plate is sufficient. fish should always be helped with a silver fish-slice, and your own portion of it divided by the fork aided by a piece of bread. the application of a knife to fish is likely to destroy the delicacy of its flavor; besides which, fish sauces are often acidulated; acids corrode steel, and draw from it a disagreeable taste. the lady and gentleman of the house are, of course, helped last, and they are very particular to notice, every minute, whether the waiters are attentive to every guest. but they do not press people either to eat more than they appear to want, nor _insist_ upon their partaking of any particular dish. it is allowable for you to recommend, so far as to say that it is considered "excellent," but remember that tastes differ, and dishes which suit _you_, may be unpleasant to others; and that, in consequence of your urgency, some modest people might feel themselves compelled to partake of what is disagreeable to them. neither ladies nor gentlemen ever wear gloves at table, unless their hands, from some cause, are not fit to be seen. avoid too slow or too rapid eating; the one will appear as though you did not like your dinner, and the other as though you were afraid you would not get enough. making a noise in chewing your food, or breathing hard in eating, are unseemly habits, which will be sure to get you a bad name at table, among people of good-breeding. let it be a sacred rule that _you cannot use your knife, or fork, or teeth too quietly_. avoid picking your teeth, if possible, at table, for however agreeable such a practice might be to yourself, it may be offensive to others. the habit which some have of holding one hand over the mouth, does not avoid the vulgarity of teeth-picking at table. unless you are requested to do so, never select any particular part of a dish; but if your host asks you what part you prefer, name some part, as in this case the incivility would consist in making your host choose as well as carve for you. if your host or hostess passes you a plate, keep it, especially if you have chosen the food upon it, for others have also a choice, and by passing it, you may give your neighbor dishes distasteful to him, and take yourself those which he would much prefer. if a dish is distasteful to you, decline it, but make no remarks about it. it is sickening and disgusting to explain at a table how one article makes you sick, or why some other dish has become distasteful to you. i have seen a well-dressed tempting dish go from a table untouched, because one of the company told a most disgusting anecdote about finding vermin served in a similar dish. if the meat or fish upon your plate is too rare or too well-done, do not eat it; give for an excuse that you prefer some other dish before you; but never tell your host that his cook has made the dish uneatable. if a gentleman is seated by the side of a lady or elderly person, politeness requires him to save them all trouble of pouring out for themselves to drink, and of obtaining whatever they are in want of at the table. he should be eager to offer them whatever he thinks to be most to their taste. never pare an apple or a pear for a lady unless she desire you, and then be careful to use your fork to hold it; you may sometimes offer to _divide a very large pear_ with or for a person. it is not good taste to praise extravagantly every dish that is set before you; but if there are some things that are really very nice, it is well to speak in their praise. but, above all things, avoid seeming indifferent to the dinner that is provided for you, as that might be construed into a dissatisfaction with it. some persons, in helping their guests, or recommending dishes to their taste, preface every such action with a eulogy on its merits, and draw every bottle of wine with an account of its virtues; others, running into the contrary extreme, regret or fear that each dish is not exactly as it should be; that the cook, etc., etc. both of these habits are grievous errors. you should leave it to your guests alone to approve, or suffer one of your intimate friends who is present, to vaunt your wine. if you ask the waiter for anything, you will be careful to speak to him gently in the tone of _request_, and not of _command_. to speak to a waiter in a driving manner will create, among well-bred people, the suspicion that you were sometime a servant yourself, and are putting on _airs_ at the thought of your promotion. lord chesterfield says: "if i tell a footman to bring me a glass of wine, in a rough, insulting manner, i should expect that, in obeying me, he would contrive to spill some of it upon me, and i am sure i should deserve it." should your servants break anything while you are at table, never turn round, or inquire into the particulars, however annoyed you may feel. if your servants betray stupidity or awkwardness in waiting on your guests, avoid reprimanding them _publicly_, as it only draws attention to their errors, and adds to their embarrassment. never commit the vulgarism of speaking when you have any food in your mouth. when you have occasion to change or pass your plate during dinner, be careful and remove your knife and fork, that the plate _alone_ may be taken, but after you have finished your dinner, cross the knife and fork on the plate, that the servant may take all away, before bringing you clean ones for dessert. do not put butter on your bread at dinner, and avoid biting or cutting your bread from the slice, or roll; rather break off small pieces, and put these in your mouth with your fingers. it is considered vulgar to dip a piece of bread into the preserves or gravy upon your plate and then bite it. if you desire to eat them together, it is much better to break the bread in small pieces, and convey these to your mouth with your fork. avoid putting bones, or the seeds of fruit, upon your table-cloth. rather place them upon the edge of your plate. when you wish to help yourself to butter, salt, or sugar, use the butter-knife, salt-spoon and sugar-tongs; to use your own knife, spoon or fingers evinces great ignorance and ill-breeding. it is customary in some american families to serve their guests with coffee in the parlor after dinner. but this is a european custom which is not generally practiced in polite american society. when coffee is given at the close of the dinner, it is more usual to serve it before the guests leave the table. the practice of handing it round in the parlor or drawing-room, is an unnecessary inconvenience to the guests particularly, without any compensating advantages. finger-glasses are generally handed round as soon as the viands are removed, but they are intended merely to wet the fingers and around the mouth. when the finger-glasses are passed, wet your fingers in them and then wipe them upon your napkin. the habit of rinsing the mouth at table is a disgusting piece of indelicacy, which is never practiced by any well-bred person. upon leaving the table, lay your napkin beside your plate, but do not fold it. do not leave the table until the lady of the house gives the signal, and when you leave offer your arm to the lady whom you escorted to the table. it is generally the custom in this country for ladies to retain their seats at table till the end of the feast, but if they withdraw, the gentlemen all rise when they leave the table, and remain standing until they have left the room. politeness demands that you remain at least an hour in the parlor, after dinner; and, if you can dispose of an entire evening, it would be well to devote it to the person who has entertained you. it is excessively rude to leave the house as soon as dinner is over. wine at table. almost every gentleman has wine at his table whenever he has invited guests. indeed, wine is considered an indispensable part of a good dinner, to which ladies and gentlemen have been formally invited. even if you are a total-abstinence man yourself, you will not, if you are really a gentleman, attempt to compel all your guests to be so against their wish. if you are so fanatical that you have what is called "conscientious scruples" against furnishing wine, then you should invite none to dine who are not as fanatical and bigoted as yourself. you must consider that a gentleman may have "conscientious scruples" against dining with you on cold water, for there are even temperate and sober gentleman who would go without meat as soon as be deprived of their glass of wine at dinner. the vegetarian, who would force his guests to dine on cabbages and onions, is hardly guilty of a greater breach of etiquette than the total-abstinence fanatic who would compel his guests to go without wine. if there is a gentleman at the table who is known to be a total-abstinence man, you will not urge him to drink. he will suffer his glass to be filled at the first passage of the wine, and raising it to his lips, will bow his respects with the rest of the guests, and after that his glass will be allowed to remain untouched. as little notice as possible should be taken of his total-abstinence peculiarity. and, if he is a gentleman, he will carefully avoid drawing attention to it himself. it is not now the custom to ask a lady across the table to take wine with you. it is expected that every lady will be properly helped to wine by the gentleman who takes her to the table, or who sits next to her. but if you are in company where the old custom prevails, it would be better breeding to follow the custom of the place, rather than by an omission of what your entertainer considers civility, to prove him, in face of his guests, to be either ignorant or vulgar. if either a lady or gentleman is invited to take wine at table, they must _never refuse_; if they do not _drink_, they need only touch the wine to their lips. do not offer to help a lady to wine until you see she has finished her soup or fish. always wipe your mouth before drinking, as nothing is more ill-bred than to grease your glass with your lips. do not propose to take wine with your host; it is his privilege to invite you. it is considered well bred to take the same wine as that selected by the person with whom you drink. when, however, the wine chosen by him is unpalatable to you, it is allowable to take that which you prefer, at the same time apologizingly saying, "will you permit me to drink _claret_?" or whatever wine you have selected. in inviting a lady to take wine with you at table, you should politely say, "shall i have the pleasure of a glass of wine with you?" you will then either hand her the bottle you have selected, or send it by the waiter, and afterwards fill your own glass, when you will politely and silently bow to each other, as you raise the wine to your lips. the same ceremony is to be observed when inviting a gentleman. on raising the first glass of wine to his lips, it is customary for a gentleman to bow to the lady of the house. it is not customary to propose _toasts_ or to drink deep at a gentleman's family table. lord byron describes "a largish party," as "first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogethery, then drunk." but this was "a largish party," which, it is to be hoped, was given at a tavern; for the man who drinks to intoxication, or to any considerable degree of _elevation_, at a gentleman's family table, ought never to expect to be invited a second time. at dinner-parties which are given to gentlemen, for the purpose of conviviality, one may indulge in as much wine as he pleases, provided he does not get _drunk_, and make a nuisance of himself. where drinking, and toasting, and bumpers, are the order of the feast, as at a public dinner, given in honor of a distinguished man, or at the inauguration of some public enterprise, far greater latitude is allowed, in all things, than on more private and select occasions. in conclusion of our article on table etiquette, we quote from a recent english work, some humorous, but valuable hints: "we now come to habits at table, which are very important. however agreeable a man may be in society, if he offends or disgusts by his table traits, he will soon be scouted from it, and justly so. there are some broad rules for behavior at table. whenever there is a servant to help you, never help yourself. never put a knife into your mouth, not even with cheese, which should be eaten with a fork. never use a spoon for anything but liquids. never touch anything edible with your fingers. "forks were undoubtedly a later invention than fingers, but as we are not cannibals, i am inclined to think they were a good one. there are some few things which you may take up with your fingers. thus an epicure will eat even macaroni with his fingers; and as sucking asparagus is more pleasant than chewing it, you may, as an epicure, take it up _au naturel_. but both these things are generally eaten with a fork. bread is, of course, eaten with the fingers, and it would be absurd to carve it with your knife and fork. it must, on the contrary, always be broken when not buttered, and you should never put a slice of dry bread to your mouth to bite a piece off. most fresh fruit, too, is eaten with the natural prongs, but when you have peeled an orange or apple, you should cut it with the aid of the fork, unless you can succeed in breaking it. apropos of which, i may hint that no epicure ever yet put a knife to an apple, and that an orange should be peeled with a spoon. but the art of peeling an orange so as to hold its own juice, and its own sugar too, is one that can scarcely be taught in a book. "however, let us go to dinner, and i will soon tell you whether you are a well-bred man or not; and here let me premise that what is good manners for a small dinner is good manners for a large one, and _vice versa_. now, the first thing you do is to sit down. stop, sir! pray do not cram yourself into the table in that way; no, nor sit a yard from it, like that. how graceless, inconvenient, and in the way of conversation! why, dear me! you are positively putting your elbows on the table, and now you have got your hands fumbling about with the spoons and forks, and now you are nearly knocking my new hock glasses over. can't you take your hands down, sir? didn't you, learn that in the nursery? didn't your mamma say to you, "never put your hands above the table except to carve or eat?" oh! but come, no nonsense, sit up, if you please. i can't have your fine head of hair forming a side dish on my table; you must not bury your face in the plate; you came to show it, and it ought to be alive. well, but there is no occasion to throw your head back like that, you look like an alderman, sir, _after_ dinner. pray, don't lounge in that sleepy way. you are here to eat, drink, and be merry. you can sleep when you get home. "well, then, i suppose you can see your napkin. got none, indeed! very likely, in _my_ house. you may be sure that i never sit down to a meal without napkins. i don't want to make my tablecloths unfit for use, and i don't want to make my trousers unwearable. well, now, we are all seated, you can unfold it on your knees; no, no; don't tuck it into your waistcoat like an alderman; and what! what on earth do you mean by wiping your forehead with it? do you take it for a towel? well, never mind, i am consoled that you did not go farther, and use it as a pocket-handkerchief. so talk away to the lady on your right, and wait till soup is handed to you. by the way, that waiting is the most important part of table manners, and, as much as possible, you should avoid asking for anything or helping yourself from the table. your soup you eat with a spoon--i don't know what else you _could_ eat it with--but then it must be one of good size. yes, that will do, but i beg you will not make that odious noise in drinking your soup. it is louder than a dog lapping water, and a cat would be quite genteel to it. then you need not scrape up the plate in that way, nor even tilt it to get the last drop. i shall be happy to send you some more; but i must just remark, that it is not the custom to take two helpings of soup, and it is liable to keep other people waiting, which, once for all, is a selfish and intolerable habit. but don't you hear the servant offering you sherry? i wish you would attend, for my servants have quite enough to do, and can't wait all the evening while you finish that very mild story to miss goggles. come, leave that decanter alone. i had the wine put on the table to fill up; the servants will hand it directly, or, as we are a small party, i will tell you to help yourself; but pray, do not be so officious. (there, i have sent him some turbot to keep him quiet. i declare he cannot make up his mind.) you are keeping my servant again, sir. will you, or will you not, do turbot? don't examine it in that way; it is quite fresh, i assure you; take or decline it. ah, you take it, but that is no reason why you should take up a knife too. fish, i repeat, must never be touched with a knife. take a fork in the right and a small piece of bread in the left hand. good, but----? oh! that is atrocious; of course you must not swallow the bones, but you should rather do so than spit them out in that way. put up your napkin like this, and land the said bone on your plate. don't rub your head in the sauce, my good man, nor go progging about after the shrimps or oysters therein. oh! how horrid! i declare your mouth was wide open and full of fish. small pieces, i beseech you; and once for all, whatever you eat, keep your mouth _shut_, and never attempt to talk with it full. "so now you have got a pâté. surely you are not taking two on your plate! there is plenty of dinner to come, and one is quite enough. oh! dear me, you are incorrigible. what! a knife to cut that light brittle pastry? no, nor fingers, never. nor a spoon--almost as bad. take your fork, sir, your fork; and, now you have eaten, oblige me by wiping your mouth and moustache with your napkin, for there is a bit of the pastry hanging to the latter, and looking very disagreeable. well, you can refuse a dish if you like. there is no positive necessity for you to take venison if you don't want it. but, at any rate, do not be in that terrific hurry. you are not going off by the next train. wait for the sauce and wait for the vegetables; but whether you eat them or not, do not begin before everybody else. surely you must take my table for that of a railway refreshment-room, for you have finished before the person i helped first. fast eating is bad for the digestion, my good sir, and not very good manners either. what! are you trying to eat meat with a fork alone? oh! it is sweetbread; i beg your pardon, you are quite right. let me give you a rule: everything that can be cut without a knife, should be cut with a fork alone. eat your vegetables, therefore, with a fork. no, there is no necessity to take a spoon for peas; a fork in the right hand will do. what! did i really see you put your knife into your mouth? then i must give you up. once for all, and ever, the knife is to cut, not to help with. pray, do not munch in that noisy manner; chew your food well, but softly. _eat slowly._ have you not heard that napoleon lost the battle of leipsic by eating too fast? it is a fact though. his haste caused indigestion, which made him incapable of attending to the details of the battle. you see you are the last person eating at table. sir, i will not allow you to speak to my servants in that way. if they are so remiss as to oblige you to ask for anything, do it gently, and in a low tone, and thank a servant just as much as you would his master. ten to one he is as good a man; and because he is your inferior in position, is the very reason you should treat him courteously. oh! it is of no use to ask me to take wine; far from pacifying me, it will only make me more angry, for i tell you the custom is quite gone out, except in a few country villages, and at a mess-table. nor need you ask the lady to do so. however, there is this consolation, if you should ask any one to take wine with you, he or she _cannot_ refuse, so you have your own way. perhaps next you will be asking me to hob and nob, or _trinquer_ in the french fashion with arms encircled. ah! you don't know, perhaps, that when a lady _trinques_ in that way with you, you have a right to finish off with a kiss. very likely, indeed! but it _is_ the custom in familiar circles in france, but then we are not frenchmen. _will_ you attend to your lady, sir? you did not come merely to eat, but to make yourself agreeable. don't sit as glum as the memnon at thebes; talk and be pleasant. now you have some pudding. no knife--no, _no_. a spoon, if you like, but better still, a fork. yes, ice requires a spoon; there is a small one handed you, take that. "say 'no.' this is the fourth time wine has been handed to you, and i am sure you have had enough. decline this time if you please. decline that dish too. are you going to eat of everything that is handed? i pity you if you do. no, you must not ask for more cheese, and you must eat it with your fork. break the rusk with your fingers. good. you are drinking a glass of old port. do not quaff it down at a gulp in that way. never drink a whole glassful of anything at once. "well, here is the wine and dessert. take whichever wine you like, but remember you must keep to that, and not change about. before you go up stairs i will allow you a glass of sherry after your claret, but otherwise drink of one wine only! you don't mean to say you are helping yourself to wine before the ladies! at least, offer it to the one next to you, and then pass it on, gently, not with a push like that. do not drink so fast; you will hurry me in passing the decanters, if i see that your glass is empty. you need not eat dessert till the ladies are gone, but offer them whatever is nearest to you. and now they are gone, draw your chair near mine, and i will try and talk more pleasantly to you. you will come out admirably at your next dinner with all my teaching. what! you are excited, you are talking loud to the colonel. nonsense! come and talk easily to me or to your nearest neighbor. there, don't drink any more wine, for i see you are getting romantic. you oblige me to make a move. you have had enough of those walnuts; you are keeping me, my dear sir. so now to coffee [one cup] and tea, which i beg you will not pour into your saucer to cool. well, the dinner has done you good, and me too. let us be amiable to the ladies, but not too much so." carving. carving is an art which every parent should teach his sons and daughters. nothing can be more disagreeable and unpleasant than to be placed before any particular dish without being able to help it properly. it is generally the case when the head of the family is a good carver; for he so objects to see things badly cut, that he prefers carving everything himself. we remember once, when very young, being invited to a large dinner, and we were placed before a ham. we began to hack this article, when the general, the founder of the feast, said to his servant, "take that ham away from that young gentleman, and place it before some one who knows how to carve." from that moment we determined to achieve the art of carving, and after great difficulty we succeeded, and succeeded so well that once, in carving a hare, a clergyman, one of the guests, remarked what an excellent invention that of boning a hare was, we carved it with so much ease; but determined to have a joke at the expense of the clergyman, we laid down the knife and fork, and said, "sir, we are surprised that you could express such an opinion, when it is well known that it has filled more jails and sent more men to the treadmill than any other thing you can name." "what, sir, taking the bones out of a hare?" "no, sir, 'boning' the hare first." no one can carve without practice, and consequently children ought to begin young, in order to acquire a thorough knowledge of the art. it is difficult to describe the method of carving, even with drawings or diagrams; but the reader who wishes to learn, may, by observing how good carvers proceed, and applying what he has seen to what he reads, with practice, soon become an adept. and first, never stand up to carve; this is the greatest vulgarity, and even a very short man need not stand up. a little, deformed, hump-back friend of ours, used to give very good dinners; he carved well, and delighted in showing it, but he had a failing--always to have very large joints of meat before him. one day a stranger guest arrived late, dinner had been served, even soup and fish had been removed; the host was absolutely hidden behind an enormous round of beef, and the stranger saw nothing at the head of the table but the monstrous joint, round which a knife was revolving with wonderful rapidity. steam was the subject of talk at the moment, and he exclaimed, "i did not know that you had brought steam to this perfection." "what perfection?" "why, don't you see that round of beef is carved by steam." this was enough; it got the hunchback's steam up, and, jumping on the chair, he demanded who dare insult him in his own house; and it was with great difficulty that his friends could appease his wrath, and turn his steam off. ever since the time of adam, men and women have been prone to excuse themselves and lay the blame on others. thus, a person who could not swim, complained bitterly of the want of buoyancy in the water; and another, who had frightfully mangled a leg of mutton in attempting to carve, declared that the sheep was deformed and had a bandy leg. in france, at all large dinners, dishes are carved at the sideboard by a servant, and then handed round in small portions. it saves a great deal of trouble, and prevents the shower of gravy with which awkward carvers will often inundate the table-cloth, and sometimes their neighbors. it would be well if this custom was universal in america, where it is rare to find a good carver. in helping the soup, never say, "will you let me assist you to some of this soup?" this is vulgar in the extreme. the word assist is not "selon les règles de la bonne société," but simply, "shall i send you some?" now, any one can help soup. but then there are two ways, the right and the wrong. first, then, your soup plates should be held by the servant near the tureen, and you should judge the number you have to help by the quantity of soup you have, to avoid the possibility of consuming all your soup before you have helped your guests; give one spoonful of soup to each plate, and avoid by all means slopping the soup either into the tureen or over the table-cloth, or over the side of the plate, all of which are extreme vulgarities. and here we beg to say--notwithstanding brummel having said, in speaking of some one with whom he could find no other fault, that he was a sort of fellow who would come twice to soup,--that, if very good, it is not vulgar to eat twice of it; but, _au contraire_, if not good, the worst possible taste. the next thing in order is fish. now, of fish there are several sorts; the first of the large sorts being salmon, the shape of which every one knows; but few people have a whole salmon at table. the fish should be served always on a strainer, covered with a small dinner napkin, and the cook should be careful that it be sent to table whole and unbroken. it should be laid on its side, and garnished with fried smelts; it should be cut with the trowel, or fish-knife, immediately down the middle of the side, and helped from the centre to the back, one slice back and a small slice towards the belly, which is the richest and fattest part; care should be taken that the slices are not broken, and with each slice a fried smelt be given. cod-fish should be helped differently. cutting from the back to the thin part, crossways, and the sound divided so as to give each person a small portion. mackerel, if boiled, should be divided into four; that is, place your trowel or fish-knife under the flesh at the tail, and raise up the flesh to the head, then divide the side in the middle, giving half of the side to each person, and leaving the bone and head and tail in the dish. herrings should be helped by giving one to each person. eels are always cut in small pieces, and all the attention required is that those which are the largest are the best. patties and entrees ought to be so arranged that they can be served with a spoon, and require no carving. the roast is therefore the next thing that calls for observation. a leg of mutton is, or rather ought to be served exactly the reverse side to a haunch of mutton; that is, it ought to lie on the flat side, and so show the beveled side to the carver. a slice is cut in the center; and then the carver is to cut to the bone right and left, the thick side being most esteemed. the best fat is that which lies at the thick end, near to the bone; there is not much of it, but it is considered a delicacy. a sirloin of beef.--the most elegant way to cut this joint is by making an incision from the chine-bone to the flap, directly in the center, and helping from either side. however, this is not the most economical way; and therefore it is to be cut thin on the outside, from the chine-bone to the flaps, with fat from underneath. many people like the under side, or inner loin. if this is eaten hot--and it is best hot--the joint should be turned, and the meat cut across in slices rather thicker than from the top side. great care should be taken not to splash the gravy in turning, by placing the fork well into the flap, so as to secure a firm hold. a fore quarter of lamb should be carved without removing the shoulder from the dish on which it is served. this is very difficult; but if well done, very elegant. first, then, let us give all the directions necessary for this dish. when it comes before the carver, he should place the carving-knife under the shoulder, and dexterously remove it. having so done, he should place under the shoulder a slice of fresh butter, and then prepare some salt, cayenne pepper, and the juice of an orange or a lemon, which should be also poured over the part of the lamb from which the shoulder has been separated, and then pour the gravy with the gravy-spoon over the lamb, so that the butter, etc., may amalgamate well with the gravy. you have then the breast and the ribs, and the shoulder on the dish, ready to help your friends. before separating the ribs, you must cut off the breast, the bones of which the butcher has previously broken, so as to enable you to do it with ease. as, however, many people cannot carve so much in one dish, perhaps the better plan is to place the shoulder on a separate dish, when it can be cut precisely as a shoulder of mutton, and the ribs and breast can be more easily divided and helped. always take care that the butcher joints the meat, or no man can carve it. a hind quarter of lamb should be carved both as a leg and a loin, giving either part to those who prefer it. a saddle of lamb must be carved like a saddle of mutton. a loin of lamb should always be divided at the chine end of the bone, and helped in chops. a haunch of venison or mutton is the leg and part of the loin. it should be cut across, near the knuckle, and then another cut should pass down the center. the slices should be taken from the left and the right of this; those on the left, containing the most fat, are preferred by epicures. the fat and gravy must be equally distributed. these joints should always be served on a hot-water dish, or on a dish with a lamp under it, so as to keep the meat hot. without one or other of these contrivances, no one should presume to give a haunch of venison to his friends. before it is sent to table, the cook should pour over the haunch one wine-glassful of hot port wine. an edge-bone of beef should be placed on the dish standing on the thickest end. the carver should first cut off a slice horizontally from the end to the fat, an inch thick; but in helping, it cannot be cut too thin, giving to each person hard and soft fat. if cut thick it is hard and indigestible. a round or buttock of beef is cut like a fillet of veal; that is, a slice having been horizontally removed all round, the slices should be cut very thin and very even. to properly carve a large round of beef, a long carving-knife, such as is used in a cook-shop, is necessary. a fillet of veal is a solid piece of meat without bone; it is therefore easily carved by any one who possesses a sharp knife; the guard of the fork should be up, to prevent accidents. the veal should be well roasted; for if the gravy is in it, it is very unwholesome. the slices may be cut thicker than beef, and the stuffing should be found in the center, and in the flap which surrounds it. a breast of veal.--the richest part of this is called the brisket. the knife must be put about four inches from this, and cut through it, which will separate the ribs from the brisket; serve whichever is liked. calf's head is a dish much esteemed here; but, as generally eaten, plainly boiled, it is tasteless, insipid, and very objectionable--while cooked à la tortue, as in france, nothing can be better. it should always be boned and rolled; but if served whole, it is to be cut down the center, and helped in slices from either side. a portion of the sweetbread, which generally accompanies a boiled calf's head, should be given with each portion. if the flesh about the socket of the eye be preferred, the eye itself being always taken out, the knife should be inserted into the orifice, and the meat scooped out. the palate--generally esteemed a delicacy--is situated under the head. this should be cut into small portions, so that every one may have a share. shoulder of mutton.--the joint being placed with the knuckle toward the right hand, observe that there is an angular piece of fat next you. having helped your company from this part, you may, perhaps, imagine that your shoulder of mutton is exhausted, and will not yield a further dividend. however, you may get from both sides of a large shoulder enough to help ten people, provided your slices are not too thick, which they should not be. the fat is to be cut from the aforesaid angular bit in slices, longways. after the right and left sides are exhausted, and the carver stopped by the knuckle on one side and the blade-bone on the other, the end of the shoulder is to be turned, and cut straight down from the center bone to the end, comprising the three best slices of the joint. if more is required, the shoulder may be reversed on the dish, and four good slices will be found on the under side. saddle of mutton.--this best joint of the sheep is carved in several ways; the usual way is to cut from the tail to the end close to the chine-bone, taking the slices horizontally. another plan is to cut close to the back-bone, taking slices sideways, so as to help each person with a piece like a mutton chop, without the bone and very thin. another way is to commence, not quite close to the back-bone, and so cut slices, rounding them a little that they will curl on the plate, cutting in such a way that the knife slants toward the flaps or fat, and so that the top of each slice is fat and the bottom lean; and for a small party, this is by far the most elegant and the best way to carve this excellent joint. ham.--there perhaps is no joint about which there has been so much contention as the carving of this excellent dish. for family use, do not have the skin removed, but let it be sent to table as it is dressed. cut from the thick end, where there is most fat; as a ham served hot is always eaten with veal or poultry, you can thus eat the fat. continue cutting your ham in this way, and you will be able to eat it all; whereas, in any other way, all the lean will be eaten, and a large quantity of fat, which will become rancid, will be lost. carving ham for a party.--the best informed say, carve it like a leg of mutton, that is, beginning in the center, cut right and left in thin slices; we say, commence at the knuckle, and cut a thick slice off, and then cut thin slices as they do in the cook-shops--for, rely on it, by this time they have found out the most economical way of carving a ham. a sucking pig must be divided down the middle, and decapitated. this ought to be done by the cook, and the two sides placed flat on the dish. supposing, therefore, this to have been previously done, the carver is to take off the shoulders and the legs, and help the ribs in such pieces as he thinks convenient. the ribs are considered best, and you should give plenty of the sauce or gravy with each plate. hare.--there are two ways of carving this difficult dish. the first is to cut close to the back-bone from the shoulder to the rump on either side, previously dividing the legs; take off the shoulders; cutting the back-bone in three or four pieces, and getting two slices on either side of the hare. the ear is considered the best part. another way of carving a hare is by taking off the legs and shoulders, and cutting it round through the back-bone, dividing into seven or eight pieces. it is better to bone a hare. a rabbit is carved very differently. the legs and shoulders are to be taken off, and the back divided into three or four pieces. fowls when boiled have their legs bent inwards, and tucked into the belly. a fowl must never be removed from the dish and placed upon the carver's plate; nothing can be more vulgar. the wing is to be removed with a good slice of the breast, the only difficulty being to hit the joint. to effect this, the knife is to be passed between the leg and the body, and the leg turned back with the fork. to take off the merrythought the carver must commence just above where the breast turns, and cut down slanting; then begin at the rump end, and cut the breast at either side, keeping the fork in that part of the breast nearest the rump, and turning it toward the carver; the side-bones may easily be removed, the back broken in half, and the two sides are then easily taken off. all this can only be learned by practice; and although we have endeavored to describe it, we feel that it requires practice to carry out the directions. a pheasant is carved precisely as a fowl. it is only necessary to say that ladies like the wings and breast. wild duck.--this bird is only helped from the breast, which is to be first scored in such a way as afterward to form the slice. lemon juice, cayenne, salt, and port wine made hot, should be ready to pour over it; then the previously scored slices are to be cut and helped. the breast is the only eatable part, except when hashed. partridge.--this bird is carved precisely as a fowl. the legs and the back are the best parts; give them to the ladies, and let the rest of the company have the wings and breast. pigeons are usually cut straight down the middle, and a half sent to each person. turkeys are carved like geese. never make a wing cut from the wing or pinion upward, and not from the breast downward. give your knife a slight angle in cutting, and your slice will be larger and better. goose.--to give a description of carving a goose is to say, simply, begin from the wing and cut the slices from the breast up to the breast bone, and serve each person with a slice, with some stuffing and gravy. to cut a wing or leg is vulgar in the extreme; for a large party, then, a second goose is necessary; but lest our readers should say, "that is an easy way to avoid telling us how we ought to dismember this bird," we will continue. if you wish to do a vulgar thing, and dismember a goose, put your fork into the small end of the pinion, and press it close to the body, then put in the knife and divide the joint down; to separate the leg, first put the fork into the small end of the bone, pressing it to the body, then pass your knife between the leg and the body, turn the leg back with your fork, and it will come off. it is impossible that anything but experience will teach a person how to do this expertly; but as we said before, it never should be done when served hot. it has been said frequently, that a goose is too much for one, and not enough for two. this means that the breast, which is the only eatable part of a roasted goose, is, supposing the person to eat nothing else, too much for one and not enough for two people's dinners; another reason for never cutting off or eating the legs hot, is that they make a most excellent "devil" for breakfast the next day--therefore, why destroy a dish fit for a king? woodcocks and snipes.--these are both carved alike--the necessary directions being: remove the sand-bag, which contains the gall: this generally protrudes; lift up the breast near the rump; spread the tail on your toast; cut the wing, leg, and part of the back, the wing being cut full, that is, with plenty of the breast attached thereto, and you have one portion with a third of the toast; serve the other side alike, with another third of the toast, and the breast and the rest of the back give to the person you esteem the least; in fact, the legs, wings, and back, as before described, are the best, and should be served together. snipes should be cut in half, unless you have enough to give a bird to each person. etiquette of the ball and assembly room. dancing has been defined as a "graceful movement of the body, adjusted by art to the measures or tunes of instruments, or of voice;" and again, "agreeable to the true genius of the art, dancing is the art of expressing the sentiments of the mind, or the passions, by measured steps or bounds made in cadence, by regulated motions of the figure and by graceful gestures; all performed to the sound of musical instruments or the voice." lord chesterfield, in his letters to his son, says: "dancing is, in itself, a very trifling and silly thing: but it is one of those established follies to which people of sense are sometimes obliged to conform; and then they should be able to do it well. and though i would not have you a dancer, yet, when you do dance, i would have you dance well, as i would have you do everything you do well." in another letter, he writes: "do you mind your dancing while your dancing master is with you? as you will be often under the necessity of dancing a minuet, i would have you dance it very well. remember that the graceful motion of the arms, the giving of your hand, and the putting off and putting on of your hat genteelly, are the material parts of a gentleman's dancing. but the greatest advantage of dancing well is, that it necessarily teaches you to present yourself, to sit, stand, and walk genteelly; all of which are of real importance to a man of fashion." when a gentleman accompanies a lady to a ball he will at once proceed with her to the door of the ladies' dressing-room, there leaving her; and then repair to the gentlemen's dressing-room. in the mean time, the lady, after adjusting her toilet, will retire to the ladies' sitting-room or wait at the door of the dressing-room, according as the apartments may be arranged. after the gentleman has divested himself of hat, etc., and placed the same in the care of the man having charge of the hat-room, receiving therefor a check, and after arranging his toilet, he will proceed to the ladies' sitting-room, or wait at the entrance to the ladies' dressing-room for the lady whom he accompanies, and with her enter the ball-room. the ladies' dressing-room is a sacred precinct, into which no gentleman should ever presume to look; to enter it would be an outrage not to be overlooked or forgiven. with the etiquette of a ball-room, so far as it goes, there are but few people unacquainted. certain persons are appointed to act as floor managers, or there will be a "master of the ceremonies," whose office it is to see that everything be conducted in a proper manner: if you are entirely a stranger, it is to _them_ you must apply for a partner, and point out (quietly) any young lady with whom you should like to dance, when, if there be no obvious inequality of position, they will present you for that purpose; should there be an objection, they will probably select some one they consider more suitable; but do not, on any account, go to a strange lady by yourself, and request her to dance, as she will unhesitatingly "decline the honor," and think you an impertinent fellow for your presumption. a gentleman introduced to a lady by a floor manager, or the master of ceremonies, should not be refused by the lady if she be not already engaged, for her refusal would be a breach of good manners: as the master of ceremonies is supposed to be careful to introduce only gentlemen who are unexceptionable. but a gentleman who is unqualified as a dancer should never seek an introduction. at a private party, a gentleman may offer to dance with a lady without an introduction, but at balls the rule is different. the gentleman should respectfully offer his arm to the lady who consents to dance with him, and lead her to her place. at the conclusion of the set he will conduct her to a seat, offer her any attention, or converse with her. a gentleman should not dance with his wife, and not too often with the lady to whom he is engaged. any presentation to a lady in a public ball-room, for the mere purpose of dancing, does not entitle you to claim her acquaintance afterwards; therefore, should you meet her, at most you may lift your hat; but even that is better avoided--unless, indeed, she first bow--as neither she nor her friends can know who or _what_ you are. in inviting a lady to dance with you, the words, "will you _honor_ me with your hand for a quadrille?" or, "shall i have the _honor_ of dancing this set with you?" are more used now than "shall i have the _pleasure_?" or, "will you give me the _pleasure_ of dancing with you?" if she answers that she is engaged, merely request her to name the earliest dance for which she is _not_ engaged, and when she will do you the honor of dancing with you. when a young lady declines dancing with a gentleman, it is her duty to give him a reason why, although some thoughtless ones do not. no matter how frivolous it may be, it is simply an act of courtesy to offer him an excuse; while, on the other hand, no gentleman ought so far to compromise his self-respect as to take the slightest offence at seeing a lady by whom he has just been refused, dance immediately after with some one else. never wait until the signal is given to take a partner, for nothing is more impolite than to invite a lady hastily, and when the dancers are already in their places; it can be allowed only when the set is incomplete. be very careful not to forget an engagement. it is an unpardonable breach of politeness to ask a lady to dance with you, and neglect to remind her of her promise when the time to redeem it comes. if a friend be engaged when you request her to dance, and she promises to be your partner for the next or any of the following dances, do not neglect her when the time comes, but be in readiness to fulfill your office as her cavalier, or she may think that you have studiously slighted her, besides preventing her obliging some one else. even inattention and forgetfulness, by showing how little you care for a lady, form in themselves a tacit insult. in a quadrille, or other dance, while awaiting the music, or while unengaged, a lady and gentleman should avoid long conversations, as they are apt to interfere with the progress of the dance; while, on the other hand, a gentleman should not stand like an automaton, as though he were afraid of his partner, but endeavor to render himself agreeable by those "airy nothings" which amuse for the moment, and are in harmony with the occasion. the customary honors of a bow and courtesy should be given at the commencement and conclusion of each dance. lead the lady through the quadrille; do not _drag_ her, nor clasp her hand as if it were made of wood, lest she, not unjustly, think you a bear. you will not, if you are wise, stand up in a quadrille without knowing something of the figure; and if you are master of a few of the steps, _so much the better_. but dance quietly; do not kick and caper about, nor sway your body to and fro; dance only _from the hips downwards_; and lead the lady as lightly as you would tread a measure with a spirit of gossamer. do not pride yourself on doing the "steps neatly," unless you are ambitious of being taken for a dancing-master; between whose motions and those of a _gentleman_ there is a great difference. unless a man has a very graceful figure, and can use it with great elegance, it is better for him to _walk_ through the quadrilles, or invent some gliding movement for the occasion. when a lady is standing in a quadrille, though not engaged in dancing, a gentleman not acquainted with her partner should not converse with her. when an unpracticed dancer makes a mistake, we may apprise him of his error; but it would be very impolite to have the air of giving him a lesson. immediate attention should be paid to any request made by the master of ceremonies, and all misunderstandings respecting the dance should be referred to him, his decision being deemed final. otherwise his superintendence of the ball will be attended with great inconvenience. when forming for quadrilles, if by any oversight you should accidentally occupy another couple's place, on being informed of the intrusion, you should immediately apologize to the incommoded party, and secure another position. contending for a position in quadrilles, at either head or sides, indicates an irritable and quarrelsome disposition altogether unsuited for an occasion where all should meet with kindly feelings. when a company is divided into different sets, persons should not attempt to change their places without permission from the master of ceremonies. no persons engaged in a quadrille or other dance that requires their assistance to complete the set, should leave the room or sit down before the dance is finished, unless on a very urgent occasion, and not even then without previously informing the master of ceremonies, that he may find substitutes. if a lady waltz with you, beware not to press her waist; you must only lightly touch it with the palm of your hand, lest you leave a disagreeable impression not only on her _ceinture_, but on her mind. above all, do not be prone to quarrel in a ball-room; it disturbs the harmony of the company, and should be avoided if possible. recollect that a thousand little derelictions from strict propriety may occur through the ignorance or stupidity of the aggressor, and not from any intention to annoy; remember, also, that the _really well-bred women_ will not thank you for making them conspicuous by over-officiousness in their defence, unless, indeed, there be some serious or glaring violation of decorum. in small matters, ladies are both able and willing to take care of themselves, and would prefer being allowed to overwhelm the unlucky offender in their own way. when a gentleman has occasion to pass through an assemblage of ladies, where it is absolutely impossible to make his way without disturbing them; or when he is obliged to go in front, because he cannot get behind them, it is but common courtesy for him to express his regret at being compelled to annoy them. a gentleman having two ladies in charge may, in the absence of friends, address a stranger, and offer him a partner, asking his name previous to an introduction, and mentioning that of the lady to him or not, as he may think proper. it is improper to engage or reëngage a lady to dance without the permission of her partner. never forget that ladies are to be first cared for, to have the best seats, the places of distinction, and are entitled in all cases to your courteous protection. young ladies should avoid sauntering through an assembly-room alone; they should either be accompanied by their guardian or a gentleman. neither married nor young ladies should leave a ball-room assemblage, or other party, unattended. the former should be accompanied by other married ladies, and the latter by their mother or guardian. of course, a gentleman is a sufficient companion for either. young ladies should avoid attempting to take part in a dance, particularly a quadrille, unless they are familiar with the figures. besides rendering themselves awkward and confused, they are apt to create ill-feeling, by interfering with, and annoying others. it were better for them to forego the gratification of dancing than to risk the chances of making themselves conspicuous, and the subject of animadversion. as we have elsewhere said, modesty of deportment should be the shining and preëminent characteristic of woman. she should be modest in her attire, in language, in manners and general demeanor. beauty becomes irresistible when allied to this lodestone of attraction; plainness of features is overlooked by it; even positive homeliness is rendered agreeable by its influence. when a gentleman escorts a lady to a ball, he should dance with _her_ first, or offer so to do; and it should be his care to see that she is provided with a partner whenever she desires to dance. after dancing, a gentleman should invariably conduct a lady to a seat, unless she otherwise desires; and, in fact, a lady should not be unattended, at any time, in a public assembly. when you conduct your partner to her seat, thank her for the pleasure she has conferred upon you, and do not remain too long conversing with her. when that long and anxiously desiderated hour, the hour of supper, has arrived, you hand the lady you attend up or down to the supper-table. you remain with her while she is at the table, seeing that she has all that she desires, and then conduct her back to the dancing-rooms. if, while walking up and down a public promenade, you should meet friends or acquaintances whom you don't intend to join, it is only necessary to salute them the first time of passing; to bow or nod to them at every round would be tiresome, and therefore improper; have no fear that they will deem you odd or unfriendly, as, if they have any sense at all, they can appreciate your reasons. if you have anything to say to them, join them at once. we have already alluded to the necessity of discarding all cant terms and phrases from conversation, not only in assembly-rooms, but on all occasions; and we would particularly caution our young lady friends against even the recognition of those _équivoques_ and _double entendre_ which the other sex sometimes inconsiderately, but oftener determinedly, introduce. neither by smiles nor blushes should they betray any knowledge of the hidden meaning that lurks within a phrase of doubtful import, nor seem to recognize anything which they could not with propriety openly make a subject of discourse. all indelicate expressions should be to them as the sanscrit language is to most people, incomprehensible. all wanton glances and grimaces, which are by libertines considered as but so many invitations to lewdness, should be strictly shunned. no lady can be too fastidious in her conduct, or too guarded in her actions. a bad reputation is almost as destructive of happiness to her as absolute guilt; and of her character we may say with the poet: "a breath can make them, or a breath unmake." in dancing, generally, the performers of both sexes should endeavor to wear a pleasant countenance; and in presenting hands, a slight inclination of the head, in the manner of a salutation, is appropriate and becoming. dancing is certainly supposed to be an enjoyment, but the sombre countenance of some who engage in it, might almost lead to the belief that it were a solemn duty being performed. if those who laugh in church would transfer their merriment to the assembly-room, and those who are sad in the assembly-room would carry their gravity to the church, they both might discover the appositeness of solomon's declaration, that "there is a time to be merry and a time to be sad." we have already alluded to the importance of a correct use of language in conversation, and though we are aware that it is absolutely impossible to practice it without a certain degree of education, yet we would urge that the habit which many acquire, more through carelessness than ignorance, of disregarding it, is worthy of consideration. many a young lady has lost a future husband by a wanton contempt for the rules of lindley murray. though hardly a case in point, we cannot forego the opportunity of recording an incident in the career of a young man "about town," who, anxious to see life in all its phases, was induced to attend a public ball, the patrons of which were characterized more for their peculiarity of manners than their extraordinary refinement. on being solicited by an acquaintance, whom he respected for his kindness of heart and integrity rather than for his mental accomplishments, to dance with his daughter, he consented, and was accordingly introduced to a very beautiful young lady. ere the dance commenced, and while the musicians were performing the "anvil chorus," from "trovatore," the young lady asked: "do you know what that _'ere_ is?" supposing that she meant _air_, and wishing to give her an opportunity of making herself happy in the thought of imparting a valuable piece of information, in utter disregard of the principles of mrs. opie, he replied, "no." "why," said she, "that's the anvel core-ri-ous." with an expletive more profane than polite, he suddenly found his admiration for the lady as much diminished by her ignorance, as it had before been exalted by her beauty. at private assemblies, it should be the effort of both ladies and gentlemen to render themselves as agreeable as possible to all parties. with this purpose in view, the latter should, therefore, avoid showing marked preferences to particular ladies, either by devoting their undivided attentions or dancing exclusively with them. too often, the belle of the evening, with no other charms than beauty of form and feature, monopolizes the regards of a circle of admirers, while modest merit, of less personal attraction, is both overlooked and neglected. we honor the generous conduct of those, particularly the "well-favored," who bestow their attentions on ladies who, from conscious lack of beauty, least expect them. on the other hand, no lady, however numerous the solicitations of her admirers, should consent to dance repeatedly, when, by so doing, she excludes other ladies from participating in the same amusement; still less, as we have elsewhere hinted, should she dance exclusively with the same gentleman, to the disadvantage of others. both ladies and gentlemen should be careful about introducing persons to each other without being first satisfied that such a course will be mutually agreeable. the custom, in this country, particularly among gentlemen, of indiscriminate introductions, is carried to such a ridiculous extent, that it has often been made the subject of comment by foreigners, who can discover no possible advantage in being made acquainted with others with whom they are not likely to associate for three minutes, in whom they take not the slightest interest, and whom they probably will never again encounter, nor recognize if they should. besides, every one has a right to exercise his own judgment and taste in the selection of acquaintances, and it is clearly a breach of politeness to thrust them upon your friend or associate, without knowing whether it will be agreeable to either party. evening parties. the etiquette of the ball-room being disposed of, let us now enter slightly into that of an evening party. the invitations issued and accepted for an evening party will be written in the same style as those already described for a dinner-party. they should be sent out _at least_ three weeks before the day fixed for the event, and should be replied to within a week of their receipt, accepting or declining with regrets. by attending to these courtesies, the guests will have time to consider their engagements and prepare their dresses, and the hostess will also know what will be the number of her party. a lady, invited to an evening party, may request a gentleman to accompany her, even though he may not have received an invitation from the hostess. in most of the american cities nine o'clock is the hour which custom has established as the time for the lady to be in her parlor, ready to receive her guests, and by ten o'clock all the guests should arrive. it is an affectation, not entirely devoid of assumption and impudence, for people to purposely delay their appearance till a very late hour. as the ladies and gentlemen arrive, each should be shown to a room exclusively provided for their reception; and the gentleman conducts the lady in his charge to the door of the ladies' dressing-room, while he goes to the gentlemen's apartment, each to prepare their toilet suitably to entering the reception-room. in the room set apart for the ladies, attendants should be in waiting to assist in uncloaking, and helping to arrange the hair and toilet of those who require it. after completing her toilet, the lady waits at the door of her dressing-room till the gentleman joins her, and they make their _entrée_ together. in large and formal parties, it is generally customary for the servant to announce the names of the guests as they enter the room, but this is a ceremony well enough dispensed with, except on occasions of very large and formal parties. it is the business of the lady of the house to be near the door to receive her guests; if she is not there, you need not go hunting through the crowd after her. as the guests enter the room, it is not necessary for the lady of the house to advance each time toward the door, but merely to rise from her seat to receive their courtesies and congratulations. if, indeed, the hostess wishes to show particular favor to some peculiarly honored guests, she may introduce them to others, whose acquaintance she may imagine will be especially suitable and agreeable. it is very often the practice of the gentleman of the house to introduce one gentleman to another, but occasionally the lady performs this office; when it will, of course, be polite for the persons thus introduced to take their seats together for the time being. when entering a private ball or party, the visitor should invariably bow to the company. no well-bred person would omit this courtesy in entering a drawing-room; and although the entrance to a large assembly may be unnoticed by all present, its observance is not the less necessary. it is the thoughtless absence of good manners in large and mixed companies, where a greater degree of studied politeness is indispensable, that renders them sometimes so unpleasant. a separate room or convenient buffet should be appropriated for refreshments, and to which the dancers may retire; and cakes and biscuits, with lemonade, handed round. of course a supper is provided at all private parties; and this requires, on the part of the hostess, a great deal of attention and supervision. it usually takes place between the first and second parts of the programme of the dances, of which there should be several prettily written or printed copies distributed about the room. it will be well for the hostess, even if she be very partial to the amusement, and a graceful dancer, not to participate in it to any great extent, lest her lady guests should have occasion to complain of her monopoly of the gentlemen, and other causes of neglect. a few dances will suffice to show her interest in the entertainment, without unduly trenching on the attention due to her guests. the hostess or host, during the progress of a party, will courteously accost and chat with their friends, and take care that the ladies are furnished with seats, and that those who wish to dance are provided with partners. a gentle hint from the hostess, conveyed in a quiet ladylike manner, that certain ladies have remained unengaged during several dances, is sure not to be neglected by any gentleman. thus will be studied the comfort and enjoyment of the guests, and no lady, in leaving the house, will be able to feel the chagrin and disappointment of not having been invited to "stand up" in a dance during the whole evening. for any of the members, either sons or daughters, of the family at whose house the party is given, to dance frequently or constantly, denotes decided ill-breeding. the ladies of the house should not occupy those places in a quadrille which others may wish to fill, and they should, moreover, be at leisure to attend to the rest of the company; and the gentlemen should be entertaining the married ladies and those who do not dance. in private parties, a lady is not to refuse the invitation of a gentleman to dance, unless she be previously engaged. the hostess must be supposed to have asked to her house only those persons whom she knows to be perfectly respectable and of unblemished character, as well as pretty equal in position; and thus, to decline the offer of any gentleman present, would be a tacit reflection on the gentleman or lady of the house. if one lady refuses you, do not ask another who is seated near her to dance the same set. do not go immediately to another lady, but chat a few moments with the one whom you first invited, and then join a group or gentlemen friends for a few moments, before seeking another partner. in private parties, where dancing is the chief part of the evening's entertainment, it is not in conformity with the rules of etiquette for a young lady to dance with one gentleman repeatedly, to the exclusion of all others who may solicit her hand, even though the favored individual be her suitor. however complimentary to the lady, to be the recipient of a gentleman's undivided attentions, or however gratifying it may be for him to manifest his devotion to the lady of his choice, such a course is an exhibition of selfishness which ought not to be displayed in an assemblage of ladies and gentlemen who have congregated for mutual enjoyment. it is not considered _comme il faut_ to ask a married lady to dance, when her husband is present, without previously ascertaining whether it be agreeable to him. gentlemen will not get together in groups to the neglect of the ladies. the members of an invited family should never be seen conversing with each other at a party. if you accompany your wife to a dancing party, be careful not to dance with her, except perhaps the first set. where there are no programmes, engagements should not be made until the dance is announced. when the dance is over, the gentleman conducts his partner to her seat; and, unless he chooses to sit beside her, bows and withdraws. while dancing, a lady should consider herself engaged to her partner, and therefore not at liberty to hold a flirtation, between the figures, with another gentleman; and should recollect that it is the gentleman's part to lead her, and hers to follow his directions. in a circle, we should not pass before a lady; neither should we present anything by extending the arm over her, but pass round behind and present it. in case we cannot do it, we say, _i ask your pardon, etc_. in ascending a staircase with ladies, go at their side or before them. a correct ear for music does not pertain to every one, and those who are deficient in this respect should refrain from dancing. let not the unpracticed dancer attempt quadrilles. a novice necessarily perplexes and annoys a partner. on the other hand, nowhere perhaps has a kindly disposition more pleasing opportunities of conferring small benefits than in a ball-room. those who are expert in dancing may gently apprise the unskillful of an error, and this without giving the slightest offense, or seeming to dictate; while such as dance well, and are solicited to dance, should carefully avoid speaking of it. they ought rather to seek to contribute to less fortunate persons a full share in the evening's amusement. a lady may do this by gently hinting to a gentleman who solicits her hand for another dance, that such a lady has remained unengaged. no gentleman will neglect such a suggestion. there is a custom which is sometimes practiced both in the assembly room and at private parties, which cannot be too strongly reprehended; we allude to the habit of ridicule and ungenerous criticism of those who are ungraceful or otherwise obnoxious to censure, which is indulged in by the thoughtless, particularly among the dancers. of its gross impropriety and vulgarity we need hardly express an opinion; but there is such an utter disregard for the feelings of others implied in this kind of negative censorship, that we cannot forbear to warn our young readers to avoid it. the "koran" says: "do not mock--the mocked may be better than the mocker." those you condemn may not have had the same advantages as yourself in acquiring grace or dignity, while they may be infinitely superior in purity of heart and mental accomplishments. the advice of chesterfield to his son, in his commerce with society, to _do as you would be done by_, is founded on the christian precept, and worthy of commendation. imagine yourself the victim of another's ridicule, and you will cease to indulge in a pastime which only gains for you the hatred of those you satirize, if they chance to observe you, and the contempt of others who have noticed your violation of politeness, and abuse of true sociality. we conclude our strictures on this subject with the following passage from the essays of addison: "but what an absurd thing it is, to pass over all the valuable characteristics of individuals, and fix our attention on their infirmities--to observe their imperfections more than their virtues--and to make use of them for the sport of others, rather than for our own improvement." in whatever relation with the fair sex, and under whatsoever circumstances, it is the duty--we may add, the practice--of a gentleman to so deport himself as to avoid giving any cause of offense. in private parties, where people meet for the pleasure of conversation, remember occasionally to change your place. opportunities will readily occur, such, for instance, as the opening of a portfolio of prints, or the showing of any article of taste or science. you will thus avoid the awkwardness of being either left alone, or constraining the master or mistress of the house to commiserate your isolated condition. if you are asked by the lady of the house, at an evening party, to sing, and you can really do so well, comply at once; but never sing at the request of another person. if you cannot or do not choose to sing, say so at once with seriousness and gravity, and put an end to the expectation promptly. after singing once or twice, cease and give place to others. when singing or playing is going on, if you have no taste for music, you should still be profoundly silent. to converse, is annoying to the rest of the company, rude to the mistress of the house, and cruel to the performer. carefully avoid all peculiarities of manner; and every wish to show off, or to absorb conversation to yourself. be also very careful not to appear to be wiser than the company. if a fact in history is mentioned, even if it be not quite correct, do not set the narrator right, unless in a very delicate and submissive manner. if an engraving of distant scenery or foreign buildings is shown, do not industriously point out inaccuracies. it may be that such occur, but finding fault is never acceptable; it conveys a censure on the taste or information of the possessor; or it suggests that he has been imposed upon--an idea which is always productive of mortification. such attempts to appear wiser than the rest of the company, interfere with the pleasure of the party, and the person who falls into them is never long acceptable. people sometimes say, that they are not invited to parties; they complain of neglect, and are out of humor with the world. let such persons consider whether they have not brought upon themselves the neglect which they deplore. should the guests be numerous, and the space scarcely sufficient for their accommodation, it would be considered extremely ill-bred to take a place previously engaged; or, when joining a country dance, to push in at the middle or upper end. you must take your station below the last couple who are standing up. if there be a supper, the gentleman should conduct to the supper-room his last partner, unless he have a prior engagement, or is asked by the host to do otherwise. in the latter case, he should provide his partner with a substitute, at the same time making a handsome apology. no gentleman should offer his services to conduct a lady home, without being acquainted with her, unless he have been requested so to do by the host. when any of the carriages of the guests are announced, or the time for their departure arrived, they should make a slight intimation to the hostess, without, however, exciting any observation, that they are about to depart. if this cannot be done without creating too much bustle, it will be better for the visitors to retire quietly without saying good-night, for when people are seen to be leaving, it often breaks up the party. an opportunity, however, may previously be sought of intimating to the hostess your intention to retire, which is more respectful. during the course of the week, the hostess will expect to receive from every guest a call, where it is possible, or cards expressing the gratification experienced from her entertainment. this attention is due to every lady for the pains and trouble she has been at, and tends to promote social, kindly feelings. visiting. next in order to the ceremonials of dinner or evening parties, are customary calls, comprised under the general head of visiting. they are those of ceremony, friendship, or condolence, and occupy no small portion of time. such visits are necessary, in order to maintain good feeling between the members of society; they are required by the custom of the age in which we live, and must be carefully attended to. first, then, are visits of ceremony, merging occasionally into those of friendship, but uniformly required after dining at a friend's house. professional men are not however, in general, expected to pay such visits, because their time is preoccupied; but they form almost the only exception. visits of ceremony must be necessarily short. they should on no account be made before the hour, nor yet during the time of luncheon. persons who intrude themselves at unwonted hours are never welcome; the lady of the house does not like to be disturbed when she is perhaps dining with her children; and the servants justly complain of being interrupted at the hour when they assemble for their noon-day meal. ascertain, therefore, which you can readily do, what is the family hour for luncheon, and act accordingly. half an hour amply suffices for a visit of ceremony. if the visitor be a lady, she may remove her victorine, but on no account either the shawl or bonnet, even if politely requested to do so by the mistress of the house. some trouble is necessarily required in replacing them, and this ought to be avoided. if, however, your visit of ceremony is to a particular friend, the case is different; but even then, it is best to wait till you are invited to do so; and when you rise for the purpose the lady of the house will assist you. favorite dogs are never welcome visitors in a drawing-room. many people have even a dislike to such animals. they require watching, lest they should leap upon a chair or sofa, or place themselves upon a lady's dress, and attentions of this kind are much out of place. neither ought a mother, when paying a ceremonial visit, to be accompanied by young children. it is frequently difficult to amuse them, and, if not particularly well trained at home, they naturally seize hold of books, or those ornaments with which it is fashionable to decorate a drawing-room. the lady of the house trembles for the fate of a beautiful shell, or vase, or costly book. she does not like to express her uneasiness, and yet knows not how to refrain. therefore leave the children at home; or, if they accompany you in the carriage, let them remain till your visit is over. if you have an infant, the nurse may await your return, or be left in an ante-room, unless a decided request be made to the contrary. if during your short visit the conversation begins to flag, it will be best to retire. the lady of the house may have some engagement at a fixed hour, and by remaining even a few minutes longer, she may be put to serious inconvenience. do not, however, seem to notice any silent hint, by rising hastily; but take leave with quiet politeness, as if your time were fully expired. when other visitors are announced, retire as soon as possible, and yet without letting it appear that their arrival is the cause. wait till the bustle of their entrance is over, and then rise from your chair, take leave of the hostess, and bow politely to the guests. by so doing you will save the lady of the house from being obliged to entertain two sets of visitors. should you call by chance at an inconvenient hour, when perhaps the lady is going out, or sitting down to luncheon, retire as soon as possible, even if politely asked to remain. you need not let it appear that you feel yourself an intruder; every well-bred or even good-tempered person knows what to say on such an occasion; but politely withdraw, with a promise to call again, if the lady seems to be really disappointed. if your acquaintance or friend is from home, leave a card,[ ] whether you call in a carriage or not. if in the latter, the servant will answer your inquiry, and receive your card; but on no account ask leave to go in and rest; neither urge your wish if you fancy that the lady whom you desire to see is really at home, or even if you flatter yourself that she would make an exception in your favor. some people think that the form of words, "not at home," is readily understood to mean that the master or mistress of the house have no wish to see even his or her most intimate friends. however this may be, take care that you do not attempt to effect an entrance. [ ] when the caller is about to leave the city for a protracted absence, it is usual to put the letters p. p. c. in the left hand corner of the card; they are the initials of the french phrase, "_pour prendre congé_"--to take leave, and may with equal propriety stand for _presents parting compliments_. visits of courtesy or ceremony are uniformly paid at christmas, or at the commencement of a new year, independently of family parties; a good old custom, the observance of which is always pleasing, and which should be carefully attended to. it is uniformly right to call on patrons, or those from whom kindness has been received. in visiting your intimate friends, ceremony may generally be dispensed with. keep a strict account of your ceremonial visits. this is needful, because time passes rapidly; and take note how soon your calls are returned. you will thus be able, in most cases, to form an opinion whether or not your frequent visits are desired. instances may however occur, when, in consequence of age or ill health, it is desirable that you should call, without any reference to your visits being returned. when desirous to act thus, remember that, if possible, nothing should interrupt the discharge of this duty. among relations and intimate friends, visits of mere ceremony are unnecessary. it is, however, needful to call at suitable times, and to avoid staying too long if your friend is engaged. the courtesies of society, as already noticed, must ever be maintained, even in the domestic circle, or among the nearest friends. in leaving cards you must thus distribute them: one for the lady of the house and her daughters--the latter are sometimes represented by turning up the edge of the card--one for the master of the house, and if there be a grown up son or a near male relation staying in the house, one for him. but though cards are cheap, you must never leave more than three at a time at the same house. as married men have, or are supposed to have, too much to do to make ceremonial calls, it is the custom for a wife to take her husband's cards with her and to leave one or two of them with her own. if, on your inquiring for the lady of the house, the servant replies, "mrs. so-and-so is not at home, but miss so-and-so is," you should leave a card, because young ladies do not receive calls from gentlemen unless they are very intimate with them, or have passed the rubicon of thirty summers. it must be remembered, too, that where there is a lady of the house, your call is to her, not to her husband, except on business. morning calls may be divided into three heads: those paid at the time already specified; weekly visits to intimate friends, or by young persons to those advanced in life; and monthly visits, which are generally ceremonious. with respect to the first, be very careful that you do not acquire the character of a _day goblin_. a day goblin is one of those persons who, having plenty of leisure, and a great desire to hear themselves talk, make frequent inroads into their friends' houses. though perhaps well acquainted with the rules of etiquette, they call at the most unseasonable hours. if the habits of the family are early, you will find them in the drawing-room at eleven o'clock. it may be they are agreeable and well-informed people; but who wishes for calls at such a strange hour! most families have their rules and occupations. in one, the lady of the house attends to the education of her children; in another, domestic affairs engross a portion of the morning; some ladies are fond of gardening, others of music or painting. it is past endurance to have such pursuits broken in upon for the sake of a day goblin, who, having gained access, inflicts his or her presence till nearly luncheon time, and then goes off with saying, "well, i have paid you a long visit;" or "i hope that i have not stayed too long." a well-bred person always receives visitors at whatever time they may call, or whoever they may be; but if you are occupied and cannot afford to be interrupted by a mere ceremony, you should instruct the servant _beforehand_ to say that you are "not at home." this form has often been denounced as a falsehood, but a lie is no lie unless intended to deceive; and since the words are universally understood to mean that you are engaged, it can be no harm to give such an order to a servant. but, on the other hand, if the servant once admits a visitor within the hall, you should receive him at any inconvenience to yourself. a lady should never keep a visitor waiting more than a minute, or two at the most, and if she cannot avoid doing so, must apologize on entering the drawing-room. in good society, a visitor, unless he is a complete stranger, does not wait to be invited to sit down, but takes a seat at once easily. a gentleman should never take the principal place in the room, nor, on the other hand, sit at an inconvenient distance from the lady of the house. he must hold his hat gracefully, not put it on a chair or table, or, if he wants to use both hands, must place it on the floor close to his chair. a well-bred lady, who is receiving two or three visitors at a time, pays equal attention to all, and attempts, as much as possible, to generalize the conversation, turning to all in succession. the last arrival, however, receives a little more attention at first than the others, and the latter, to spare her embarrasment, should leave as soon as convenient. people who out-sit two or three parties of visitors, unless they have some particular motive for doing so, come under the denomination of "bores." a "bore" is a person who does not know when you have had enough of his or her company. be cautious how you take an intimate friend _uninvited_ even to the house of those with whom you may be equally intimate, as there is always a feeling of jealousy that another should share your thoughts and feelings to the same extent as themselves, although good breeding will induce them to behave _civilly_ to your friend on your account. ladies in the present day are allowed considerable license in paying and receiving visits; subject, however, to certain rules, which it is needful to define. young married ladies may visit their acquaintances alone; but they may not appear in any public places unattended by their husbands or elder ladies. this rule must never be infringed, whether as regards exhibitions, or public libraries, museums, or promenades; but a young married lady is at liberty to walk with her friends of the same age, whether married or single. gentlemen are permitted to call on married ladies at their own houses. such calls the usages of society permit, but never without the knowledge and full permission of husbands. ladies may walk unattended in the streets, being careful to pass on as becomes their station--neither with a hurried pace, nor yet affecting to move slowly. shop-windows, in new york especially, afford great attractions; but it is by no means desirable to be seen standing before them, and most assuredly not alone. be careful never to look back, nor to observe too narrowly the dresses of such ladies as may pass you. should any one venture to address you, take no heed, seem not to hear, but hasten your steps. be careful to reach home in good time. let nothing ever induce you to be out after dusk, or when the lamps are lighted. nothing but unavoidable necessity can sanction such acts of impropriety. lastly, a lady never calls on a gentleman, unless professionally or officially. it is not only ill-bred, but positively improper to do so. at the same time, there is a certain privilege in age, which makes it possible for an old bachelor like myself to receive a visit from any married lady whom i know very intimately, but such a call would certainly not be one of ceremony, and always presupposes a desire to consult me on some point or other. i should be guilty of shameful treachery, however, if i told any one that i had received such a visit, while i should certainly expect that my fair caller would let her husband know of it. when morning visitors are announced, rise and advance toward them. if a lady enters, request her to be seated on a sofa; but if advanced in life, or the visitor be an elderly gentleman, insist on their accepting an easy chair, and place yourself, by them. if several ladies arrive at the same time, pay due respect to age and rank, and seat them in the most honorable places; these, in winter, are beside the fire. supposing that a young lady occupies such a seat, and a lady older than herself, or superior in condition, enters the room, she must rise immediately, and having courteously offered her place to the new comer, take another in a different part of the room. if a lady is engaged with her needle when a visitor arrives, she ought to discontinue her work, unless requested to do otherwise: and not even then must it be resumed, unless on very intimate terms with her acquaintance. when this, however, is the case, the hostess may herself request permission to do so. to continue working during a visit of ceremony would be extremely discourteous; and we cannot avoid hinting to our lady readers, that even when a particular friend is present for only a short time, it is somewhat inconsistent with etiquette to keep their eyes fixed on a crochet or knitting-book, apparently engaged in counting stitches, or unfolding the intricacies of a pattern. we have seen this done, and are, therefore, careful to warn them on the subject. there are many kinds of light and elegant, and even useful work, which do not require close attention, and may be profitably pursued; and such we recommend to be always on the work-table at those hours which, according to established practice, are given to social intercourse. it is generally customary in the country to offer refreshment to morning visitors. if they come from a considerable distance, and are on intimate terms, hospitality requires that you should invite them to take luncheon. in town it is otherwise, and you are not expected to render any courtesy of the kind, except to aged or feeble persons, or to some one who, perhaps, is in affliction, and to whom the utmost kindliness should be shown. when your visitor is about to take leave, rise, and accompany her to the door, mindful, at the same time, that the bell is rung, in order that a servant may be in attendance. if the master of the house is present, and a lady is just going away, he must offer her his arm, and lead her to the hall or passage door. if her carriage be in waiting, he will, of course, hand her into it. these attentions are slight, and some persons may think they are scarcely worth noticing. nevertheless, they are important, and we are the more earnest to press them on the attention of our readers, because we have witnessed the omission of such acts of courtesy in families where a very different mode of conduct might be expected. and here, turning aside for a brief space from the subject-matter of our discourse, we desire earnestly to impress upon mothers who have sons growing up, the great importance of early imbuing them with the principles of true politeness, and consequent attention to its most trifling observances. what matters it if a tall lad pushes into a room before one of his mother's visitors; or, if he chance to see her going into church, instead of holding the door in a gentlemanly manner, he lets it swing in her face when he has himself entered; or whether he comes into the drawing-room with his hat on, unobservant of lady visitors, or lolls in an arm-chair reading the newspaper? "what signifies it?" some will say--"why tease a youth about such matters? he will learn manners as he grows up." we think otherwise, and do not scruple to affirm, that he can never learn real gentlemanly politeness from any one but his mother. the neglect of small courtesies in early life, and the outward or mental boorishness to which it leads, has been, to our certain knowledge, a more fruitful source of wretchedness in many homes, than we have either time or inclination to relate. in this changing world, visits of condolence must be also occasionally paid; and concerning such, a few necessary rules may be briefly stated. visits of condolence should be paid within a week after the event which occasions them; but if the acquaintance be slight, immediately after the family appear at public worship. a card should be sent up; and if your friends are able to receive you, let your manners and conversation be in harmony with the character of your visit. it is courteous to send up a mourning card; and for ladies to make their calls in black silk or plain-colored apparel. it denotes that they sympathize with the afflictions of the family; and such attentions are always pleasing. gentlemen will do well to bear in mind that, when they pay morning calls, they must carry their hats with them into the drawing-room; but on no account put them on the chairs or table. there is a graceful manner of holding a hat, which every well-bred man understands. when calling upon a friend who is boarding, do not go up till the servant returns with an invitation; and never enter a room without previously knocking at the door, and receiving an invitation to come in. such observances are indispensable, even between the nearest friends. a gentleman when calling upon a lady, and finding that one of her lady friends is with her, must rise when the visitor takes her leave, and accompany her to the hall door; or if she has a carriage, he should hand her into it--supposing, however, that no gentleman related to the mistress of the house be present. if your visit has been of sufficient length, you can take your leave when accompanying the lady out of the room. it happens occasionally that two persons are visiting different members of the same family. when this occurs, and one visitor takes leave, the lady or gentleman whose visitor has just left should remain in the drawing-room. it is considered discourteous to do otherwise. in most families in this country, evening calls are the most usual. should you chance to visit a family, and find that they have a party, present yourself, and converse for a few minutes with an unembarrassed air; after which you may retire, unless urged to remain. a slight invitation, given for the sake of courtesy, ought not to be accepted. make no apology for your unintentional intrusion; but let it be known, in the course of a few days, that you were not aware that your friends had company. an excellent custom prevails in some families of inviting their guests for a given period. thus, for example, an invitation is sent, stating that a friend's company is requested on a certain day, mentioning also for what length of time, and if a carriage cannot be offered to meet the visitor, stating expressly the best mode of coming and going. we recommend this admirable plan to the master and mistress of every dwelling which is sufficiently capacious to admit of receiving an occasional guest. a young lady is perhaps invited to spend a little time in the country, but she cannot possibly understand whether the invitation extends to a few days, or a week, or a month, and consequently is much puzzled with regard to the arrangement of her wardrobe. domestic consultations are held; the letter is read over and over again; every one gives a different opinion, and when the visit is entered upon, somewhat of its pleasure is marred through the embarrassment occasioned by not knowing when to propose taking leave. in receiving guests, your first object should be to make them feel at home. begging them to make themselves at home is not sufficient. you should display a genuine unaffected friendliness. whether you are mistress of a mansion or a cottage, and invite a friend to share your hospitality, you must endeavor, by every possible means, to render the visit agreeable. this should be done without apparent effort, that the visitor may feel herself to be a partaker in your home enjoyments, instead of finding that you put yourself out of the way to procure extraneous pleasures. it is right and proper that you seek to make the time pass lightly; but if, on the other hand, you let a visitor perceive that the whole tenor of your daily concerns is altered on her account, a degree of depression will be felt, and the pleasant anticipations which she most probably entertained will fail to be realized. let your friend be assured, from your manner, that her presence is a real enjoyment to you--an incentive to recreations which otherwise would not be thought of in the common routine of life. observe your own feelings when you happen to be the guest of a person who, though he may be very much your friend, and really glad to see you, seems not to know what to do either with you or himself; and again, when in the house of another you feel as much at ease as in your own. mark the difference, more easily felt than described, between the manners of the two, and deduce therefrom a lesson for your own improvement. if you have guests in your house, you are to appear to feel that they are all equal for the time, for they all have an equal claim upon your courtesies. those of the humblest condition will receive _full as much attention_ as the rest, in order that you shall not painfully make them feel their inferiority. always avoid the foolish practice of deprecating your own rooms, furniture, or viands, and expressing regrets that you have nothing better to offer. neither should you go to the other extreme of extolling any particular thing or article of food. the best way is to say nothing about these matters. neither is it proper to urge guests to eat, or to load their plates against their inclinations. endeavor to retain your friends as long as they like to prolong their visit. when they intimate an intention to leave you, if you really desire their continuance somewhat longer, frankly say so. should they, however, have fixed the time, and cannot prolong their stay, facilitate their going by every means in your power; and, while you kindly invite them to renew their visit, point out to them any places of interest on the road, and furnish such information as you possess. if invited to spend a few days at a friend's house, conform as much as possible to the habits of the family. when parting for the night, inquire respecting the breakfast hour, and ascertain at what time the family meet for prayers. if this right custom prevails, be sure to be in time; and obtain any necessary information from the servant who waits upon you. give as little trouble as possible; and never think of apologizing for the extra trouble which your visit occasions. such an apology implies that your friend cannot conveniently entertain you. your own good sense and delicacy will teach you the desirability of keeping your room tidy, and your articles of dress and toilet as much in order as possible. if there is a deficiency of servants, a lady will certainly not hesitate to make her own bed and to do for herself as much as possible, and for the family all that is in her power. we presume that few people will leave a friend's house without some expression of regret, and some acknowledgment proffered for the pleasure that has been afforded them. instances to the contrary have come within our knowledge, and therefore we remind our youthful readers especially, that this small act of politeness is indispensable, not in the form of a set speech, but by a natural flowing forth of right feeling. it is also proper, on returning home, to inform your friends of your safe arrival; the sense which you entertain of their hospitality, and the gratification derived from your visit, may be also gracefully alluded to. the chain which binds society together is formed of innumerable links. let it be your part to keep those links uniformly bright; and to see that neither dust nor rust accumulate upon them. street etiquette. the books of etiquette tell you, that if you have been introduced to a lady and you afterward meet her in the street, you must not bow to her unless she bow first, in order, as the books say, that she may have an opportunity to cut you if she does not wish to continue the acquaintance. this is the english fashion. but on the continent of europe the rule is reversed, and no lady, however intimate you may be with her, will acknowledge you in the street unless you first honor her with a bow of recognition. but the american fashion is not like either of them. for here the really well-bred man always politely and respectfully bows to every lady he knows, and, if she is a well-bred woman, she acknowledges the respect paid her. if she expects no further acquaintance, her bow is a mere formal, but _always respectful_, recognition of the good manners which have been shown her, and no gentleman ever takes advantage of such politeness to push a further acquaintance uninvited. but why should a lady and gentleman, who know who each other are, scornfully and doggedly pass each other in the streets as though they were enemies? there is no good reason for such _impoliteness_, in the practice of politeness. as compared with the english, the french or continental fashion is certainly more consonant with the rules of good breeding. but the american rule is better than either, for it is based upon the acknowledged general principle, that it is every gentleman's and lady's duty to be polite in all places. unless parties have done something to forfeit the respect dictated by the common rules of politeness, there should be no deviation from this practice. it is a ridiculous idea that we are to practice ill-manners in the name of etiquette. while walking the street no one should be so absent-minded as to neglect to recognize his friends. if you do not stop, you should always bow, touch your hat, or bid your friend good day. if you stop, you can offer your hand without removing your glove. if you stop to talk, retire on one side of the walk. if your friend has a stranger with him and you have anything to say, you should apologize to the stranger. never leave your friend abruptly to see another person without asking him to excuse your departure. if you meet a gentleman of your acquaintance walking with a lady whom you do not know, lift your hat as you salute them. if you know the lady, you should salute her first. never _nod_ to a lady in the street, neither be satisfied with touching your hat, _but take it off_--it is a courtesy her sex demands. a gentleman should never omit a punctilious observance of the rules of politeness to his recognized acquaintances, from an apprehension that he will not be met with reciprocal marks of respect. for instance, he should not refuse to raise his hat to an acquaintance who is accompanied by a lady, lest her escort should, from ignorance or stolidity, return his polite salutation with a nod of the head. it is better not to see him, than to set the example of a rude and indecorous salutation. in all such cases, and in all cases, he who is most courteous has the advantage, and should never feel that he has made a humiliating sacrifice of his personal dignity. it is for the party whose behavior has been boorish to have a consciousness of inferiority. a gentleman meeting a lady acquaintance on the street, should not presume to join her in her walk without ascertaining that his company would be entirely agreeable. it might be otherwise, and she should frankly say so. a married lady usually leans upon the arm of her husband; but single ladies do not, in the day, take the arm of a gentleman, unless they are willing to acknowledge an engagement. gentlemen always give place to ladies, and gentlemen accompanying ladies, in crossing the street. if you have anything to say to a lady whom you may happen to meet in the street, however intimate you may be, do not stop her, but turn round and walk in company; you can take leave at the end of the street. when you are passing in the street, and see coming toward you a person of your acquaintance, whether a lady or an elderly person, you should offer them the wall, that is to say, the side next the houses. if a carriage should happen to stop in such a manner as to leave only a narrow passage between it and the houses, beware of elbowing and rudely crowding the passengers, with a view to get by more expeditiously; wait your turn, and if any of the persons before mentioned come up, you should edge up to the wall, in order to give them the place. they also, as they pass, should bow politely to you. if stormy weather has made it necessary to lay a plank across the gutter, which has become suddenly filled with water, it is not proper to crowd before another, in order to pass over the frail bridge. in walking with a lady, it is customary to give her the right arm; but where circumstances render it more convenient to give her the left, it may properly be done. if you are walking with a lady on a crowded street like broadway, by all means give her the outside, as that will prevent her from being perpetually jostled and run against by the hurrying crowd. you should offer your arm to a lady with whom you are walking whenever her safety, comfort, or convenience may seem to require such attention on your part. at night your arm should always be tendered, and also when ascending the steps of a public building. in walking with any person you should keep step with military precision, and with ladies and elderly people you should always accommodate your speed to theirs. if a lady with whom you are walking receives the salute of a person who is a stranger to you, you should return it, not for yourself, but for her. when a lady whom you accompany wishes to enter a store, you should hold the door open and allow her to enter first, if practicable; for you must never pass before a lady anywhere, if you can avoid it, or without an apology. in england, it is a mark of low breeding to smoke in the streets. but in america the rule does not hold to quite that extent; though, even here, it is not often that you catch "a gentleman of the strictest sect," in the street with a cigar or pipe in his mouth. for a man to go into the street with a lady on his arm and a cigar in his mouth is a shocking sight, which no gentleman will ever be guilty of exhibiting; for he inevitably subjects the woman to the very worst of suspicions. avoid the disgusting habit of spitting. no gentleman will stand in the doors of hotels, nor on the corners of the streets, gazing impertinently at the ladies as they pass. that is such an unmistakable sign of a loafer, that one can hardly imagine a well-bred man doing such a thing. never offer to shake hands with a lady in the street if you have on dark gloves, as you may soil her white ones. if you meet a lady friend with whom you wish to converse, you must not stop, but turn and walk along with her; and should she be walking with a gentleman, first assure yourself that you are not intruding before you attempt to join the two in their walk. after twilight, a young lady would not be conducting herself in a becoming manner, by walking alone; and if she passes the evening with any one, she ought, beforehand, to provide some one to come for her at a stated hour; but if this is not practicable, she should politely ask of the person whom she is visiting, to permit a servant to accompany her. but, however much this may be considered proper, and consequently an obligation, a married lady, well educated, will disregard it if circumstances prevent her being able, without trouble, to find a conductor. if the host wishes to accompany you himself, you must excuse yourself politely for giving him so much trouble, but finish, however, by accepting. on arriving at your house, you should offer him your thanks. in order to avoid these two inconveniences, it will be well to request your husband, or some one of your relatives, to come and wait upon you; you will, in this way, avoid all inconveniences, and be entirely free from that harsh criticism which is sometimes indulged in, especially in small towns, concerning even the most innocent acts. if, when on your way to fulfill an engagement, a friend stops you in the street, you may, without committing any breach of etiquette, tell him of your appointment, and release yourself from a long talk, but do so in a courteous manner, expressing regret for the necessity. in inquiring for goods at a shop or store, do not say, i want so and so, but say to the shopman--show me such or such an article, if you please--or use some other polite form of address. if you are obliged to examine a number of articles before you are suited, apologize to the shopkeeper for the trouble you give him. if, after all, you cannot suit yourself, renew your apologies when you go away. if you make only small purchases, say to him--i am sorry for having troubled you for so trifling a thing. you need not stop to pull off your glove to shake hands with a lady or gentleman. if it is warm weather it is more agreeable to both parties that the glove should be on--especially if it is a lady with whom you shake hands, as the perspiration of your bare hand would be very likely to soil her glove. if a lady addresses an inquiry to a gentleman on the street, he will lift his hat, or at least touch it respectfully, as he replies. if he cannot give the information required, he will express his regrets. when tripping over the pavement, a lady should gracefully raise her dress a little above her ankle. with her right hand she should hold together the folds of her gown and draw them toward the right side. to raise the dress on both sides, and with both hands, is vulgar. this ungraceful practice can be tolerated only for a moment when the mud is very deep. most american ladies in our cities wear too rich and expensive dresses in the street. some, indeed, will sweep the side-walks with costly stuffs only fit for a drawing-room or a carriage. this is in bad taste, and is what ill-natured people would term snobbish. traveling. as a general rule, travelers are selfish. they pay little attention either to the comforts or distresses of their fellow-travelers; and the commonest observances of politeness are often sadly neglected by them. in the scramble for tickets, for seats, for state-rooms, or for places at a public table, the courtesies of life seem to be trampled under foot. even the ladies are sometimes rudely treated and shamefully neglected in the headlong rush for desirable seats in the railway cars. to see the behavior of american people on their travels, one would suppose that we were anything but a refined nation; and i have often wondered whether a majority of our travelers could really make a decent appearance in social society. when you are traveling, it is no excuse that because others outrage decency and propriety you should follow their example, and fight them with their own weapons. a rush and scramble at the railway ticket office is always unnecessary. the cars will not leave until every passenger is aboard, and if you have ladies with you, you can easily secure your seats and afterward procure the tickets at leisure. but suppose you do lose a favorite seat by your moderation! is it not better to suffer a little inconvenience than to show yourself decidedly vulgar? go to the cars half an hour before they start, and you will avoid all trouble of this kind. when seated, or about to seat yourself in the cars, never allow considerations of personal comfort or convenience to cause you to disregard the rights of fellow-travelers, or forget the respectful courtesy due to woman. the pleasantest or most comfortable seats belong to the ladies, and you should never refuse to resign such seats to them with a cheerful politeness. sometimes a gentleman will go through a car and choose his seat, and afterward vacate it to procure his ticket, leaving his overcoat or carpet bag to show that the seat is taken. always respect this token, and never seize upon a seat thus secured, without leave, even though you may want it for a lady. it is not always necessary for a gentleman to rise after he has seated himself and offer his seat to a lady, particularly if the lady is accompanied by another gentleman; for there may still be eligible vacant seats in the cars. but should you see a lady come alone, and if the seats in the car all appear to be filled, do not hesitate to offer her yours, if you have no ladies in your company. and should a lady motion to seat herself beside you, rise at once and offer her the choice of the two seats. these are but common courtesies that every well-bred man will at all times cheerfully offer to the other sex. making acquaintances in the cars, although correct enough, is a measure of which travelers generally appear to be very shy. there is no reason for this, as acquaintances thus picked up need never be recognized again unless you please. if a stranger speaks to you, always answer him politely, and if his conversation proves disagreeable, you have no alternative but to change your seat. in steamers do not make a rush for the supper table, or make a glutton of yourself when you get there. never fail to offer your seat on deck to a lady, if the seats all appear to be occupied, and always meet half way any fellow-passenger who wishes to enter into conversation with you. some travelers are so exclusive that they consider it a presumption on the part of a stranger to address them; but such people are generally foolish, and of no account. sociable intercourse while traveling is one of its main attractions. who would care about sitting and moping for a dozen of hours on board a steamer without exchanging a word with anybody? and this must be the fate of the exclusives when they travel alone. even ladies, who run greater risks in forming steamboat acquaintances than the men, are allowed the greatest privileges in that respect. it might not be exactly correct for a lady to make a speaking acquaintance of a gentleman; but she may address or question him for the time being without impropriety. fellow-passengers, whether on a steamboat or in the cars, should at all times be sociable and obliging to one another. those who are the reverse of this may be set down either as selfish, foolish, or conceited. in the cars you have no right to keep a window open for your accommodation, if the current of air thus produced annoys or endangers the health of another. there are a sufficient number of discomforts in traveling, at best, and it should be the aim of each passenger to lessen them as much as possible, and to cheerfully bear his own part. life is a journey, and we are all fellow-travelers. if in riding in an omnibus, or crossing a ferry with a friend, he wishes to pay for you, never insist upon paying for yourself or for both. if he is before you, let the matter pass without remark. marriage. in speaking of marriage, it is not merely with reference to its social importance, but as regards certain observances, concerning which no work on etiquette has yet given any explicit rules. first, then, with respect to the preliminary subject of courtship. that unseen monitor, who has already suggested many points for consideration to lady readers, would now say to them: before you admit the attentions of a gentleman who wishes to pay you his addresses, very carefully examine your respective tastes and dispositions; and settle in your own mind what are the most important requisites of happiness in a married state. with this view, you must enter upon the consideration of the subject with a calm and decisive spirit, which will enable you to see where your true happiness lies, and to pursue it with determined resolution. in matters of business, follow the advice of such as are able to guide you; and as regards the subject of marriage, turn not away from the counsel of those who are appointed to watch over and direct you. if a gentleman gives you reason to believe that he wishes to engage your affections, seek the advice of your parents, that they may gain for you every necessary particular with regard to his morals and disposition, and means of suitably providing for you. if, unhappily, death has deprived you of parents, ask counsel of some one who will care for you, and on whose friendship you can rely. remember that you have little knowledge of the world, and that your judgment has not arrived at full maturity. but however circumstanced, avoid, as you would the plague, any attentions from a gentleman whose moral character renders him undeserving your regard. let neither rank nor fortune, nor the finest order of intellect, nor yet the most winning manners, induce you to accept the addresses of an irreligious man. you dare not ask the blessing of your heavenly father upon such addresses; and without his blessing, what happiness can you expect? men often say, "that whatever their own opinions may be, they will marry religious women." this may be; but woe to a religious woman, if she allows herself to be thus beguiled! supposing your admirer be a sensible man, he will like religion in you for his own sake; if, on the contrary, such is not the case, and you become his wife, he will often, though perhaps without intention, distress you by his remarks; and in either case, if you have children, you will suffer much in seeing that your endeavors to form their minds to virtue and piety, and to secure their present and eternal happiness, are regarded with indifference, or at least that you are not assisted in your efforts. remember, also, that no happiness can be expected in the marriage state, unless the husband be worthy of respect. do not marry a weak man; he is often intractable or capricious, and seldom listens to the voice of reason; and most painful must it be to any sensible woman to have to blush for her husband, and feel uneasy every time he opens his lips. still worse, if it should please god to give her children, if she cannot point to the example of their father as leading to what is excellent and of good report; nor yet to his precepts and instructions as their rule of conduct. one thing is certain, that a weak man uniformly shows his consequence by contradicting his wife, because he will not have it supposed that he is under her influence. advances, or offers of marriage, are made in a thousand different ways; but, however tendered, receive them courteously, and with dignity. if a letter comes to you, answer it as becomes a gentlewoman--your own heart will dictate what you ought to say. questions have arisen with regard to the wording of such letters, but no certain rule can be laid down; whether it be answered in the first or third person, must depend upon the degree of acquaintance which has previously existed. no young lady would certainly head her letter with--"dear sir," to a suitor whom she scarcely knows, or to one whom she intends refusing. she ought, however, on no account, either to receive or answer letters of the kind without showing them to her mother; or, if unfortunately without parents, she will do well to consult some judicious female friend. never trifle with the affections of a man who loves you; nor admit of marked attentions from one whose affection you cannot return. some young ladies pride themselves upon the conquests which they make, and would not scruple to sacrifice the happiness of an estimable person to their reprehensible vanity. let this be far from you. if you see clearly that you have become an object of especial regard to a gentleman, and do not wish to encourage his addresses, treat him honorably and humanely, as you hope to be used with generosity by the person who may engage your own heart. do not let him linger in suspense, but take the earliest opportunity of carefully making known your feelings on the subject. this may be done in a variety of ways. a refined ease of manner will satisfy him, if he has any discernment, that his addresses will not be acceptable. should your natural disposition render this difficult, show that you wish to avoid his company, and he will presently withdraw; but if even this is difficult--and who can lay down rules for another?--allow an opportunity for explanation to occur. you can then give him a polite and decisive answer; and be assured that, in whatever manner you convey your sentiments to him, if he be a man of delicacy and right feeling, he will trouble you no further. let it never be said of you, that you permit the attentions of an honorable man when you have no heart to give him; or that you have trifled with the affections of one whom you perhaps esteem, although you resolve never to marry him. it may be that his preference gratifies, and his conversation interests you; that you are flattered by the attentions of a man whom some of your companions admire; and that, in truth, you hardly know your own mind on the subject. this will not excuse you. every young woman ought to know the state of her own heart; and yet the happiness and future prospects of many an excellent man have been sacrificed by such unprincipled conduct. remember that if a gentleman makes you an offer, you have no right to speak of it. if you possess either generosity or gratitude for offered affection, you will not betray a secret which does not belong to you. it is sufficiently painful to be refused, without incurring the additional mortification of being pointed out as a rejected lover. if, on the contrary, you encourage the addresses of a deserving man, behave honorably and sensibly. do not lead him about as if in triumph, nor take advantage of the ascendency which you have gained by playing with his feelings. do not seek for occasions to tease him, that you may try his temper; neither affect indifference, nor provoke lovers' quarrels, for the foolish pleasure of reconciliation. on your conduct during courtship will very much depend the estimation in which you will be held by your husband in after life. assuming that the important day is fixed, and that the bidden guests have accepted the invitations, a few observations may be useful, especially to those who live retired in the country. the bride uniformly goes to church in the same carriage with her parents, or with those who stand in their place; as, for instance, if the father is deceased, an elder brother or uncle, or even guardian, accompanies her mother and herself. if, unhappily, she is an orphan, and has no relations, a middle-aged lady and gentleman, friends of her parents, should be requested to take their place. a bridesmaid will also occupy a seat in the same carriage. the bridegroom finds his way to church in a separate carriage with his friends, and he will show his gallantry by handing the bride from her carriage, and paying every attention to those who accompany her. any omission in this respect cannot be too carefully avoided. when arrived at the altar, the father of the bride, or, in default of such relation, the nearest connexion, or some old friend, gives away the bride. the bridesmaids stand near the bride; and either her sister, or some favorite friend, will hold the gloves or handkerchief, as may be required, when she ungloves her hand for the wedding-ring. when the ceremony is completed, and the names of the bride and bridegroom are signed in the vestry, they first leave the church together, occupying by themselves the carriage that waits to convey them to the house of the bride's father and mother, or that of the guardian, or friend, by whom the bridal breakfast is provided. the wedding-cake uniformly occupies the center of the table. it is often tastefully surrounded with flowers, among which those of the fragrant orange ought to be conspicuous. after being cut according to the usages observed on such occasions, the oldest friend of the family proposes the lady's health; that of the bridegroom is generally proposed by some friend of his own, if present; but if this is not the case, by his father-in-law, or any of his new relatives, who will deem it incumbent upon them to say something gratifying to him while proposing his health, which courtesy he must acknowledge as best he can. after this the bride withdraws, in order to prepare for leaving the parental roof, by taking off her wedding, and putting on her traveling dress; although it happens not unfrequently that the bride remains in another apartment, and thus avoids the fatigue and embarrassment of appearing at the breakfast-table. when this occurs, her place beside the bridegroom must be occupied by a near relation or friend. but whether present, or remaining apart with a few friends, all who are invited to do honor to the bride must appear in full dress. bracelets may be worn on one or both wrists. black of any kind is wholly inadmissible; not even black satin can be allowed; and widows must attire themselves either in quiet colored suits, or else in silver gray. on such festive occasions, all appear in their best attire, and assume their best manners. peculiarities that pertain to past days, or have been unwarily adopted, should be guarded against; mysteries concerning knives, forks, and plates, or throwing "an old shoe" after the bride, are highly reprehensible, and have long been exploded. such practices may seem immaterial, but they are not so. stranger guests often meet at a wedding breakfast; and the good breeding of the family may be somewhat compromised by neglect in small things. if the lady appears at breakfast, which is certainly desirable, she occupies, with her husband, the center of the table, and sits by his side--her father and mother taking the top and bottom, and showing all honor to their guests. when the cake has been cut, and every one is helped--when, too, the health of the bride and bridegroom has been drunk, and every compliment and kind wish has been duly proffered and acknowledged--the bride, attended by her friends, withdraws; and when ready for her departure the newly-married couple start off on their wedding journey, generally about two or three o'clock, and the rest of the company shortly afterward take their leave. in some circles it is customary to send cards almost immediately to friends and relations, mentioning at what time and hour the newly-married couple expect to be called upon. some little inconvenience occasionally attends this custom, as young people may wish to extend their wedding tour beyond the time first mentioned, or, if they go abroad, delays may unavoidably occur. it is therefore better to postpone sending cards, for a short time at least. fashions change continually with regard to wedding-cards. a few years since they were highly ornamented, and fantastically tied together; now silver-edged cards are fashionable; but, unquestionably, the plainer and more unostentatious a wedding-card, the more lady-like and becoming it will be. no one to whom a wedding-card has not been sent ought to call upon a newly-married couple. when the days named for seeing company arrive, remember to be punctual. call, if possible, the first day, but neither before nor after the appointed hour. wedding-cake and wine are handed round, of which every one partakes, and each expresses some kindly wish for the happiness of the newly-married couple. taking possession of their home by young people is always a joyous period. the depressing influence of a wedding breakfast, where often the hearts of many are sad, is not felt, and every one looks forward to years of prosperity and happiness. if the gentleman is in a profession, and it happens that he cannot await the arrival of such as call, according to invitation on the wedding-card, an apology must be made, and, if possible, an old friend of the family should represent him. a bride must on no account receive her visitors without a mother, or sister, or some friend being present, not even if her husband is at home. this is imperative. to do otherwise is to disregard the usuages of society. we remember once calling on a very young bride, and found her alone. conjectures were made by every visitor with regard to such a strange occurrence, and their surprise was still more increased, when it became known that the young lady returned her calls equally unattended. wedding visits must be returned during the course of a few days, and parties are generally made for the newly-married couple, which they are expected to return. this does not, however, necessarily entail much visiting; neither is it expected from young people, whose resources may be somewhat limited, or when the husband has to make his way in the world. domestic etiquette and duties. "the little community to which i gave laws," said the vicar of wakefield, "was regulated in the following manner:--we all assembled early, and after we had saluted each other with proper ceremony, (for i always thought fit to keep up some mechanical forms of good breeding, without which, freedom ever destroys friendship,) we all knelt in gratitude to that being who gave us another day. so also when we parted for the night." we earnestly recommend that the precepts and example of the good old vicar should be followed and adopted by every newly-married couple. with regard to the first, the courtesies of society should never be omitted, in even the most trivial matters; and, as respects the second, what blessing can be reasonably expected to descend upon a house wherein the voice of thanksgiving is never heard, nor yet protection sought by its acknowledged head! on the wife especially devolves the privilege and pleasure of rendering home happy. we shall, therefore, speak of such duties and observances as pertain to her. when a young wife first settles in her home, many excellent persons, with more zeal, it may be, than discretion, immediately propose that she should devote some of her leisure time to charitable purposes: such, for instance, as clothing societies for the poor, or schools, or district visiting. we say with all earnestness to our young friend, engage in nothing of the kind, however laudable, without previously consulting your husband, and obtaining his full concurrence. carefully avoid, also, being induced by any specious arguments to attend evening lectures, unless he accompanies you. remember that your heavenly father, who has given you a home to dwell in, requires from you a right performance of its duties. win your husband, by all gentle appliances, to love religion; but do not, for the sake even of a privilege and a blessing, leave him to spend his evenings alone. look often on your marriage ring, and remember the sacred vows taken by you when the ring was given; such thoughts will go far toward allaying many of these petty vexations which circumstances call forth. never let your husband have cause to complain that you are more agreeable abroad than at home; nor permit him to see in you an object of admiration, as respects your dress and manners, when in company, while you are negligent of both in the domestic circle. many an unhappy marriage has been occasioned by neglect in these particulars. nothing can be more senseless than the conduct of a young woman, who seeks to be admired in general society for her politeness and engaging manners, or skill in music, when, at the same time, she makes no effort to render her home attractive; and yet that home, whether a palace or a cottage, is the very center of her being--the nucleus around which her affections should revolve, and beyond which she has comparatively small concern. beware of intrusting any individual whatever with small annoyances, or misunderstandings, between your husband and yourself, if they unhappily occur. confidants are dangerous persons, and many seek to obtain an ascendency in families by gaining the good opinion of young married women. be on your guard, and reject every overture that may lead to undesirable intimacy. should any one presume to offer you advice with regard to your husband, or seek to lessen him by insinuations, shun that person as you would a serpent. many a happy home has been rendered desolate by exciting coolness or suspicion, or by endeavors to gain importance in an artful and insidious manner. in all money matters, act openly and honorably. keep your accounts with the most scrupulous exactness, and let your husband see that you take an honest pride in rightly appropriating the money which he intrusts to you. "my husband works hard for every dollar that he earns," said a young married lady, the wife of a professional man, to a friend who found her busily employed in sewing buttons on her husband's coat, "and it seems to me worse than cruel to lay out a dime unnecessarily." be very careful, also, that you do not spend more than can be afforded in dress; and be satisfied with such carpets and curtains in your drawing-room as befit a moderate fortune, or professional income. natural ornaments, and flowers tastefully arranged, give an air of elegance to a room in which the furniture is far from costly; and books judiciously placed, uniformly produce a good effect. a sensible woman will always seek to ornament her home, and to render it attractive, more especially as this is the taste of the present day. the power of association is very great; light, and air, and elegance, are important in their effects. no wife acts wisely who permits her sitting-room to look dull in the eyes of him whom she ought especially to please, and with whom she has to pass her days. in middle life, instances frequently occur of concealment with regard to money concerns; thus, for instance, a wife wishes to possess an article of dress which is too costly for immediate purchase, or a piece of furniture liable to the same objection. she accordingly makes an agreement with a seller, and there are many who call regularly at houses when the husband is absent on business, and who receive whatever the mistress of the house can spare from her expenses. a book is kept by the seller, in which payments are entered; but a duplicate is never retained by the wife, and therefore she has no check whatever. we have known an article of dress paid for in this manner, far above its value, and have heard a poor young woman, who has been thus duped, say to a lady, who remonstrated with her: "alas! what can i do? i dare not tell my husband." it may be that the same system, though differing according to circumstances, is pursued in a superior class of life. we have reason to think that it is so, and therefore affectionately warn our younger sisters to beware of making purchases that require concealment. be content with such things as you can honorably afford, and such as your husbands approve. you can then wear them with every feeling of self-satisfaction. before dismissing this part of our subject, we beseech you to avoid all bickerings. what does it signify where a picture hangs, or whether a rose or a pink looks best on the drawing-room table? there is something inexpressibly endearing in small concessions, in gracefully giving up a favorite opinion, or in yielding to the will of another; and equally painful is the reverse. the mightiest rivers have their source in streams; the bitterest domestic misery has often arisen from some trifling difference of opinion. if, by chance, you marry a man of a hasty temper, great discretion is required. much willingness, too, and prayer for strength to rule your own spirit are necessary. three instances occur to us, in which, ladies have knowingly married men of exceeding violent tempers, and yet have lived happily. the secret of their happiness consisted in possessing a perfect command over themselves, and in seeking, by every possible means, to prevent their husbands from committing themselves in their presence. lastly, remember your standing as a lady, and never approve a mean action, nor speak an unrefined word; let all your conduct be such as an honorable and right-minded man may look for in his wife, and the mother of his children. the slightest duplicity destroys confidence. the least want of refinement in conversation, or in the selection of books, lowers a woman, ay, and for ever! follow these few simple precepts, and they shall prove to you of more worth than rubies; neglect them, and you will know what sorrow is. they apply to every class of society, in every place where man has fixed his dwelling; and to the woman who duly observes them may be given the beautiful commendation of solomon, when recording the words which the mother of king lemuel taught him: "the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her; she will do him good, and not evil, all the days of her life. strength and honor are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. her children rise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her."--prov. xxxi. we shall now address ourselves exclusively to our brethren; to them who have taken upon themselves the sacred and comprehensive names of husband and of master, who have formed homes to dwell in, and have placed therein, as their companions through life's pilgrimage, gentle and confiding ones, who have left for them all that was heretofore most dear, and whom they have sworn to love and to cherish. when a man marries, it is understood that all former acquaintanceship _ends_, unless he intimates a desire to renew it, by sending you his own and his wife's card, if near, or by letter, if distant. if this be neglected, be sure no further intercourse is desired. in the first place, a bachelor is seldom _very particular_ in the choice of his companions. so long as he is amused, he will associate freely enough with those whose morals and habits would point them out as highly dangerous persons to introduce into the sanctity of domestic life. secondly, a married man has the tastes of _another_ to consult; and the friend of the _husband_ may not be equally acceptable to the _wife_. besides, newly-married people may wish to limit the circle of their friends, from praiseworthy motives of economy. when a man first "_sets up_" in the world, the burden of an extensive and indiscriminate acquaintance may be felt in various ways. many have had cause to regret the weakness of mind which allowed them to plunge into a vortex of gaiety and expense they could ill afford, from which they have found it difficult to extricate themselves, and the effects of which have proved a serious evil to them in after-life. remember that you have now, as a married man, a very different standing in society from the one which you previously held, and that the happiness of another is committed to your charge. render, therefore, your home happy by kindness and attention to your wife, and carefully watch over your words and actions. if small disputes arise, and your wife has not sufficient good sense to yield her opinion; nay, if she even seems determined to have her own way, and that tenaciously, do not get angry; rather be silent, and let the matter rest. an opportunity will soon occur of speaking affectionately, yet decidedly, on the subject, and much good will be effected. master your own temper, and you will soon master your wife's; study her happiness without yielding to any caprices, and you will have no reason to regret your self-control. never let your wife go to church alone on sunday. you can hardly do a worse thing as regards her good opinion of you, and the well-being of your household. it is a pitiable sight to see a young wife going toward the church-door unattended, alone in the midst of a crowd, with her thoughts dwelling, it may be very sadly, on the time when you were proud to walk beside her. remember that the condition of a young bride is often a very solitary one; and that for your sake she has left her parents' roof, and the companionship of her brothers and sisters. if you are a professional man, your wife may have to live in the neighborhood of a large city, where she scarcely knows any one, and without those agreeable domestic occupations, or young associates, among whom she had grown up. her garden and poultry-yard are hers no longer, and the day passes without the light of any smile but yours. you go off, most probably after breakfast, to your business or profession, and do not return till a late dinner; perhaps even not then, if you are much occupied, or have to keep up professional connections. it seems unmanly, certainly most unkind, to let your young wife go to church on sunday without you, for the common-place satisfaction of lounging at home. to act in this manner is certainly a breach of domestic etiquette. sunday is the only day in which you can enable her to forget her father's house, and the pleasant associations of her girlhood days--in which you can pay her those attentions which prevent all painful comparisons as regards the past. sunday is a day of rest, wisely and mercifully appointed to loose the bonds by which men are held to the world; let it be spent by you as becomes the head of a family. let no temptation ever induce you to wish your wife to relinquish attending divine service, merely that she may "idle at home with you." religion is her safeguard amid the trials or temptations of this world. and woe may be to you if you seek to withdraw her from its protection! much perplexity in the marriage state often arises from want of candor. men conceal their affairs, and expect their wives to act with great economy, without assigning any reason why such should be the case; but the husband ought frankly to tell his wife the real amount of his income; for, unless this is done, she cannot properly regulate her expenses. they ought then to consult together as to the sum that can be afforded for housekeeping, which should be rather below than above the mark. when this is arranged he will find it advantageous to give into her hands, either weekly, monthly, or quarterly, the sum that is appropriated for daily expenditure, and above all things to avoid interfering without absolute necessity. the home department belongs exclusively to the wife; the province of the husband is to rule the house--hers to regulate its internal movements. true it is, that some inexperienced young creatures know but little of household concerns. if this occur, have patience, and do not become pettish or ill-humored. if too much money is laid out at first, give advice, kindly and firmly, and the young wife will soon learn how to perform her new duties. no good ever yet resulted, or ever will result from unnecessary interference. if a man unhappily marries an incorrigible simpleton, or spendthrift, he cannot help himself. such, however, is rarely the case. let a man preserve his own position, and assist his wife to do the same; all things will then move together, well and harmoniously. much sorrow, and many heart-burnings, may be avoided by judicious conduct in the outset of life. husbands should give their wives all confidence. they have intrusted to them their happiness, and should never suspect them of desiring to waste their money. whenever a disposition is manifested to do right, express your approbation. be pleased with trifles, and commend efforts to excel on every fitting occasion. if your wife is diffident, encourage her, and avoid seeing small mistakes. it is unreasonable to add to the embarrassments of her new condition, by ridiculing her deficiencies. forbear extolling the previous management of your mother or your sisters. many a wife has been alienated from her husband's family, and many an affectionate heart has been deeply wounded by such injudicious conduct; and, as a sensible woman will always pay especial attention to the relations of her husband, and entertain them with affectionate politeness, the husband on his part should always cordially receive and duly attend to her relations. the reverse of this, on either side, is often productive of unpleasant feelings. lastly, we recommend every young married man, who wishes to render his home happy, to consider his wife as the light of his domestic circle, and to permit no clouds, however small, to obscure the region in which she presides. most women are naturally amiable, gentle, and complying; and if a wife becomes perverse, and indifferent to her home, it is generally her husband's fault. he may have neglected her happiness; but nevertheless it is unwise in her to retort, and, instead of faithfully reflecting the brightness that still may shine upon her, to give back the dusky and cheerless hue which saddens her existence. be not selfish, but complying, in small things. if your wife dislikes cigars--and few young women like to have their clothes tainted by tobacco--leave off smoking; for it is, at best, an ungentlemanly and dirty habit. if your wife asks you to read to her, do not put your feet upon a chair and go to sleep. if she is fond of music, accompany her as you were wont when you sought her for a bride. the husband may say that he is tired, and does not like music, or reading aloud. this may occasionally be true, and no amiable woman will ever desire her husband to do what would really weary him. we, however, recommend a young man to practice somewhat of self-denial, and to remember that no one acts with a due regard to his own happiness who lays aside, when married, those gratifying attentions which he was ever ready to pay the lady of his love; or those rational sources of home enjoyment which made her look forward with a bounding heart to become his companion through life. etiquette is a comprehensive term; and its observances are nowhere more to be desired than in the domestic circle. on general society. to cultivate the art of pleasing is not only worthy of our ambition, but it is the dictate of humanity to render ourselves as agreeable as possible to those around us. while, therefore, we condemn that false system of philosophy which recommends the practice of flattery and deception for the purpose of winning the regard of those with whom we come in contact, we would rather urge the sincere and open conduct which is founded on moral principle, and which looks to the happiness of others, not through any sordid and selfish aim, but for the reward which virtuous actions bestow. indeed, we do not discover the necessity of duplicity and hypocrisy in our intercourse with society. the virtues and the graces are not antagonistic. the sacrifice of personal convenience for the accommodation of others; the repression of our egotism and self-esteem; the occasional endurance of whatever is disagreeable or irksome to us through consideration for the infirmities of others, are not only some of the characteristics of true politeness, but are in the very spirit of benevolence, and, we might add, religion. the english have a rule of etiquette, that if you are introduced to a person of higher position in society than yourself, you must never recognize him when you meet, until you see whether he intends to notice you. the meaning of this rule is, that you should be polite to nobody until you see whether they mean to be polite to you, which is simply refusing politeness in the name of politeness itself. there is a story of an unfortunate clerk of the treasury, who dined one day at the beef-steak club, where he sat next to a duke, who conversed freely with him at dinner. the next day, meeting the duke in the street, he saluted him. but his grace, drawing himself up, said: "may i know, sir, to whom i have the honor of speaking?" "why, we dined together at the club yesterday--i am mr. timms, of the treasury," was the reply. "then," said the duke, turning on his heel, "mr. timms, of the treasury, i wish you _a good morning_." though this anecdote is related in the english books as an example of etiquette, it is undoubtedly true that mr. timms, of the treasury, was the politest man of the two; for even if he had made a mistake in being a little familiar in his politeness, had the duke been really a polite man he would have made the best of it, by returning the salutation, instead of the brutal mortification which he heaped upon the clerk of the treasury. everybody has read the anecdote of washington, who politely returned the salutation of a negro, which caused his friend to ask if he "bowed to a negro." "to be sure i do; do you think that i would allow a negro to outdo me in politeness?" said washington. this is the american rule. everybody in this country may be polite to everybody--and if any one is too haughty and too ill-bred to return the salutation, with him alone rests the responsibility and the shame. a lady in company should never exhibit any anxiety to sing or play; but if she intends to do so, she should not affect to refuse when asked, but obligingly accede at once. if you cannot sing, or do not choose to, say so with seriousness and gravity, and put an end to the expectation promptly. after singing once or twice, cease and give place to others. there is an old saying, that a singer can with the greatest difficulty be set agoing, and when agoing, cannot be stopped. never commend a lady's musical skill to another lady who herself plays. modern chesterfields, who pretend to be superlatively well-bred, tell one never to be "in a hurry." "to be in a hurry," say they, "is ill-bred." the _dictum_ is absurd. it is sometimes necessary to be hurried. in the streets of the city one must hasten with the multitude. to walk or lounge, as people who have nothing else to do, in wall street, or broadway, would be out of place and absurd. judgment requires us, not less than manners, to conform slightly with the behavior of those with whom we associate or are forced to remain. never lose your temper at cards, and particularly avoid the exhibition of anxiety or vexation at want of success. if you are playing whist, not only keep your temper, but hold your tongue; any intimation to your partner is decidedly ungentlemanly. do not take upon yourself to do the honors in another man's house, nor constitute yourself master of the ceremonies, as you will thereby offend the host and hostess. do not press before a lady at a theater or a concert. always yield to her, if practicable, your seat and place. do not sit when she is standing, without offering her your place. consult not only your own ease, but also the comfort of those around you. do not cross a room in an anxious manner, and force your way up to a lady merely to receive a bow, as by so doing you attract the eyes of the company toward her. if you are desirous of being noticed by any one in particular, put yourself in their way as if by accident, and do not let them _see_ that you have sought them out; unless, indeed, there be something very important to communicate. gentlemen who attend ladies to the opera, to concerts, to lectures, etc., should take off their hats on entering the room, and while showing them their seats. having taken your seats remain quietly in them, and avoid, unless absolute necessity requires it, incommoding others by crowding out and in before them. if obliged to do this, politely apologize for the trouble you cause them. to talk during the performance is an act of rudeness and injustice. you thus proclaim your own ill-breeding and invade the rights of others, who have paid for the privilege of hearing the performers, and not for listening to you. if you are in attendance upon a lady at any opera, concert, or lecture, you should retain your seat at her side; but if you have no lady with you, and have taken a desirable seat, you should, if need be, cheerfully relinquish it in favor of a lady, for one less eligible. to the opera, or theater, ladies should wear opera hoods, which are to be taken off on entering. in this country, custom permits the wearing of bonnets; but as they are neither convenient nor comfortable, ladies should dispense with their use whenever they can. gloves should be worn by ladies in church, and in places of public amusement. do not take them off to shake hands. great care should be taken that they are well made and fit neatly. if you would have your children grow up beloved and respected by their elders as well as their contemporaries, teach them good manners in their childhood. the young sovereign should first learn to obey, that he may be the better fitted to command in his turn. show, but do not show off, your children to strangers. recollect, in the matter of children, how many are born every hour, each one almost as remarkable as yours in the eyes of its papa and mamma. notwithstanding that good general breeding is easy of attainment, and is, in fact, attained by most people, yet we may enlarge upon a saying of emerson's, by declaring that the world has never yet seen "a perfect gentleman." it is not deemed polite and respectful to smoke in the presence of ladies, even though they are amiable enough to permit it. a gentleman, therefore, is not in the habit of smoking in the parlor, for if there is nobody present to object, it leaves a smell in the room which the wife has good reason to be mortified at, if discovered by her guests. it is very common to see persons eat, drink, and smoke to excess. such habits are vulgar in the lowest degree. some men pride themselves on their abilities in drinking and smoking--more especially in the latter. these are blunders that need no reasoning to expose them. the man who exhibits a tendency to excesses will, sooner or later, be shunned by all except a few of his own stamp, and not even by them be respected. guard against excess in all things, as neither gentlemanly nor human. spitting is a filthy habit, and annoys one in almost every quarter, in-doors and out. since vulgarity has had its way so extensively amongst us, every youth begins to smoke and spit before he has well cut his teeth. smoking is unquestionably so great a pleasure to those accustomed to it, that it must not be condemned, yet the spitting associated with it detracts very much from the enjoyment. no refined person will spit where ladies are present, or in any public promenade; the habit is disgusting in the extreme, and one would almost wish that it could be checked in public by means of law. never scratch your head, pick your teeth, clean your nails, or, worse than all, pick your nose in company; all these things are disgusting. to indulge in ridicule, whether the subject be present or absent, is to descend below the level of gentlemanly propriety. your skill may excite laughter, but will not insure respect. a reverential regard for religious observances, and religious opinions, is a distinguishing trait of a refined mind. whatever your opinions on the subject, you are not to intrude them on others, perhaps to the shaking of their faith and happiness. religious topics should be avoided in conversation, except where all are prepared to concur in a respectful treatment of the subject. in mixed societies the subject should never be introduced. frequent consultation of the watch or time-pieces is impolite, either when at home or abroad. if at home, it appears as if you were tired of your company and wished them to be gone; if abroad, as if the hours dragged heavily, and you were calculating how soon you would be released. never read in company. a gentleman or lady may, however, look over a book of engravings with propriety. the simpler, and the more easy and unconstrained your manners, the more you will impress people of your good breeding. _affectation_ is one of the brazen marks of vulgarity. it is very unbecoming to exhibit petulance, or angry feeling, though it is indulged in so largely in almost every circle. the true gentleman does not suffer his countenance to be easily ruffled; and we only look paltry when we suffer temper to hurry us into ill-judged expressions of feeling. "he that is soon angry dealeth foolishly." commands should never be given in a commanding tone. a gentleman requests, he does not command. we are not to assume so much importance, whatever our station, as to give orders in the "imperative mood," nor are we ever justified in thrusting the consciousness of servitude on any one. the blunder of commanding sternly is most frequently committed by those who have themselves but just escaped servitude, and we should not exhibit to others a weakness so unbecoming. it is a great thing to be able to _walk like a gentleman_--that is, to get rid of the awkward, lounging, swinging gait of a clown, and stop before you reach the affected and flippant step of a dandy. in short, nothing but _being a gentleman_ can ever give you the air and step of one. a man who has a shallow or an impudent brain will be quite sure to show it in his heels, in spite of all that rules of manners can do for him. a gentleman never sits in the house with his hat on in the presence of ladies for a single moment. indeed, so strong is the force of habit, that a gentleman will quite unconsciously remove his hat on entering a parlor, or drawing-room, even if there is no one present but himself. people who sit in the house with their hats on are to be suspected of having spent the most of their time in bar-rooms, and similar places. _a gentleman never sits with his hat on in the theater._ gentlemen do not generally sit even in an eating-room with their hats on, if there is any convenient place to put them. the books on etiquette will tell you, that on waiting on a lady into a carriage, or the box of a theater, you are to take off your hat; but such _is not_ the custom among polite people in this country. the inconvenience of such a rule is a good reason against its observance in a country where the practice of politeness has in it nothing of the servility which is often attached to it in countries where the code of etiquette is dictated by the courts of monarchy. in handing a lady into a carriage, a gentleman _may_ need to employ both his hands, and he has no third hand to hold on to his hat. cleanliness of person is a distinguishing trait of every well-bred person; and this not on state occasions only, but at all times, even at home. it is a folly to sit by the fire in a slovenly state, consoling oneself with the remark, "nobody will call to-day." should somebody call we are in no plight to receive them, and otherwise it is an injury to the character to allow slovenly habits to control us even when we are unseen. chesterfield inveighs against holding a man by the button, "for if people are not willing to hear you, you had much better hold your tongue than them." button-holing is not a common vice, but pointing, nudging, hitting a man in the side with your fist, or giving him a kick of recognition under the table, are too common not to be noticed here as terrible breaches of deportment. significant looks and gestures are equally objectionable, and must be avoided by all who desire to soar above positive vulgarity. i have often been annoyed by hearing a friend discourse on some person's failings or excellences, the person referred to being only known to the speaker. it is a bad rule to talk of persons at all, but more especially if the person spoken of is not known to all the listeners. do not offer a person the chair from which you have just risen, unless there be no other in the room. never take the chair usually occupied by the lady or gentleman of the house, even though they be absent, nor use the snuff-box of another, unless he offer it. do not lean your head against the wall. you will either soil the paper, or get your hair well powdered with lime. do not touch any of the ornaments in the houses where you visit; they are meant only for the use of the lady of the house, and may be admired, but not touched. lord chesterfield, in his "advice to his son," justly characterizes an absent man as unfit for business or conversation. absence of mind is usually affected, and springs in most cases from a desire to be thought abstracted in profound contemplations. the world, however, gives a man no credit for vast ideas who exhibits absence when he should be attentive, even to trifles. the world is right in this, and i would implore every studious youth to forget that he is studious when he enters company. i have seen many a man, who would have made a bright character otherwise, affect a foolish reserve, remove himself as far from others as possible, and in a mixed assembly, where social prattle or sincere conversation enlivened the hearts of the company, sit by himself abstracted in a book. it is foolish, and, what is worse for the absentee, it looks so. a hint on this subject is sufficient, and we do hint, that abstractedness of manner should never be exhibited; the greatest geniuses have ever been attentive to trifles when it so behooved them. affectation of superiority galls the feelings of those to whom it is offered. in company with an inferior, never let him feel his inferiority. an employer, who invites his confidential clerk to his house, should treat him in every way the same as his most distinguished guest. no reference to business should be made, and anything in the shape of command avoided. it is very easy by a look, a word, the mode of reception, or otherwise, to advertise to the other guests, "this is my clerk," or, "the person i now treat as a guest was yesterday laboring in my service;" but such a thing would lower the host more than it would annoy the guest. before burns had arrived at his high popularity, he was once invited by some puffed-up lairds to dine, in order that they might have the gratification of hearing the poet sing one of his own songs. burns was shown into the servants' hall, and left to dine with the menials. after dinner he was invited to the drawing-room, and a glass of wine being handed to him, requested to sing one of his own songs. he immediately gave his entertainers that thrilling assertion of independence, "a man's a man for a' that," and left the moment he had finished, his heart embittered at patronage offered in a manner so insulting to his poverty. people who have risen in the world are too apt to suppose they render themselves of consequence _in proportion to the pride they display_, and their want of attention toward those with whom they come in contact. this is a terrible mistake, as every ill-bred act recoils with triple violence against its perpetrators, by leading the offended parties to analyze them, and to question their right of assuming a superiority to which they are but rarely entitled. punctuality is one of the characteristics of politeness. he who does not keep his appointments promptly is unfit for the society of gentlemen, and will soon find himself shut out from it. in private, watch your thoughts; in your family, watch your temper; in society, watch your tongue. avoid restlessness in company, lest you make the whole party as fidgety as yourself. "do not beat the 'devil's tattoo' by drumming with your fingers on the table; it cannot fail to annoy every one within hearing, and is the index of a vacant mind. neither read the newspaper in an audible whisper, as it disturbs the attention of those near you. both these bad habits are particularly offensive where most common, that is, in a counting or news-room. remember, that a carelessness as to what may incommode others is the sure sign of a coarse and ordinary mind; indeed, the essential part of good breeding is more in the avoidance of whatever may be disagreeable to others, than even an accurate observance of the customs of good society." good sense must, in many cases, determine good breeding; because the same thing that would be civil at one time and to one person, may be quite otherwise at another time and to another person. chesterfield says, "as learning, honor, and virtue are absolutely necessary to gain you the esteem and admiration of mankind, politeness and good breeding are equally necessary to make you welcome and agreeable in conversation and common life. great talents, such as honor, virtue, learning, and parts, are above the generality of the world, who neither possess them themselves nor judge of them rightly in others; but all people are judges of the lesser talents, such as civility, affability, and an obliging, agreeable address and manner; because they feel the good effects of them, as making society easy and pleasing." if you are in a public room, as a library or reading-room, avoid loud conversation or laughing, which may disturb others. at the opera, or a concert, be profoundly silent during the performances; if you do not wish to hear the music, you have no right to interfere with the enjoyment of others. in accompanying ladies to any public place, as to a concert or lecture, you should precede them in entering the room, and procure seats for them. never allow a lady to get a chair for herself, ring a bell, pick up a handkerchief or glove she may have dropped, or, in short, perform any service for herself which you can perform for her, when you are in the room. by extending such courtesies to your mother, sisters, or other members of your family, they become habitual, and are thus more gracefully performed when abroad. etiquette in church is entirely out of place; but we may here observe that a conversation wantonly profligate always offends against good manners, nor can an irreligious man ever achieve that bearing which constitutes the true gentleman. he may be very polished and observant of form, and even if so, he will, out of respect for others, refrain from intruding his opinions and abstain from attacking those of others. chesterfield says, "civility is particularly due to all women; and, remember, that no provocation whatsoever can justify any man in not being civil to every woman; and the greatest man would justly be reckoned a brute if he were not civil to the meanest woman. it is due to their sex, and is the only protection they have against the superior strength of ours; nay, even a little is allowable with women; and a man may, without weakness, tell a woman she is either handsomer or wiser than she is." keep your engagements. nothing is ruder than to make an engagement, be it of business or pleasure, and break it. if your memory is not sufficiently retentive to keep all the engagements you make stored within it, carry a little memorandum book and enter them there. especially keep any appointment made with a lady, for, depend upon it, the fair sex forgive any other fault in good breeding, sooner than a broken engagement. the right of privacy is sacred, and should always be respected. it is exceedingly improper to enter a private room anywhere without knocking. no relation, however intimate, will justify an abrupt intrusion upon a private apartment. so the trunks, boxes, packets, papers, and letters of every individual, locked or unlocked, sealed or unsealed, are sacred. it is ill-manners even to open a book-case, or to read a written paper lying open, without permission expressed or implied. books in an open case or on a center-table, cards in a card-case, and newspapers, are presumed to be open for examination. be careful where you go, what you read, and what you handle, particularly in private apartments. avoid intermeddling with the affairs of others. this is a most common fault. a number of people seldom meet but they begin discussing the affairs of some one who is absent. this is not only uncharitable but positively unjust. it is equivalent to trying a _cause in the absence of the person implicated_. even in the criminal code a prisoner is presumed to be innocent until he is found guilty. society, however, is less just, and passes judgment without hearing the defence. depend upon it, as a certain rule, _that the people who unite with you in discussing the affairs of others will proceed to scandalize you the moment that you depart_. be well read also, for the sake of the general company and the ladies, in the literature of the day. you will thereby enlarge the regions of pleasurable talk. besides, it is often necessary. haslitt, who had entertained an unfounded prejudice against dickens's works when they were first written, confesses that he was at last obliged to read them, because he could not enter a mixed company without hearing them admired and quoted. always conform your conduct, as near as possible, to the company with whom you are associated. if you should be thrown among people who are vulgar, it is better to humor them than to set yourself up, then and there, for a model of politeness. it is related of a certain king that on a particular occasion he turned his tea into his saucer, contrary to the etiquette of society, because two country ladies, whose hospitalities he was enjoying, did so. that king was a gentleman; and this anecdote serves to illustrate an important principle: namely, that true politeness and genuine good manners often not only permit, but absolutely demand, a violation of some of the arbitrary rules of etiquette. bear this fact in mind. although these remarks will not be sufficient in themselves to _make_ you a _gentleman_, yet they will enable you to avoid any glaring impropriety, and do much to render you easy and confident in society. gentility is neither in birth, manner, nor fashion--but in _the_ mind. a high sense of honor--a determination never to take a mean advantage of another--an adherence to truth, delicacy, and politeness toward those with whom you may have dealings--are the essential and distinguishing characteristics of a gentleman. the end. transcriber's notes italics indicated _like this_ small caps capitalized like this other than corrections listed below, inconsistent spellings and other anomalies are as in original. p. "withuot" corrected to "without" p. double word "heard" corrected p. "there" corrected to "their" p. closing quotation mark added to block quotation p. "sermom" corrected to "sermon" p. "fluctating" corrected to "fluctuating" p. "unmindul" corrected to "unmindful" p. missing comma supplied after "one who is neither" p. "similiar" corrected to "similar" p. "supenderless" corrected to "suspenderless" p. quotation mark supplied after "superficial observer." p. "four and-twenty" corrected to "four-and-twenty" p. "repectability" corrected to "respectability" p. "uneviable" corrected to "unenviable" p. "digusting" corrected to "disgusting" p. "you" corrected to "your" p. "alllowed" corrected to "allowed" p. "canibals" corrected to "cannibals" p. "you knife" corrected to "your knife" p. superfluous comma removed in "very, large" p. missing "a" supplied in "find good carver" p. period supplied after "each other at a party" p. "entranc" corrected to "entrance" p. final period supplied in footnote p. final period supplied after "been afforded them" p. "judicioulsy" corrected to "judiciously" p. "unless he intimate" corrected to "unless he intimates" p. "intercourse it desired" corrected to "intercourse is desired" p. double word "to" corrected p. "departmemt" corrected to "department" p. "husbands should" at start of sentence capitalized p. "digusting" corrected to "disgusting" p. "thought it is" corrected to "though it is" p. double word "call" corrected the ladies' book of etiquette, and manual of politeness. a complete hand book for the use of the lady in polite society. containing full directions for correct manners, dress, deportment, and conversation; rules for the duties of both hostess and guest in morning receptions, dinner companies, visiting, evening parties and balls; a complete guide for letter writing and cards of compliment; hints on managing servants, on the preservation of health, and on accomplishments. and also useful receipts for the complexion, hair, and with hints and directions for the care of the wardrobe. by florence hartley, author of the "ladies' hand book of fancy and ornamental work." boston: g. w. cottrell, publisher, cornhill. entered according to the act of congress, in the year , by g. g. evans, in the clerk's office of the district court for the eastern district of pennsylvania. introduction. in preparing a book of etiquette for ladies, i would lay down as the first rule, "do unto others as you would others should do to you." you can never be rude if you bear the rule always in mind, for what lady likes to be treated rudely? true christian politeness will always be the result of an unselfish regard for the feelings of others, and though you may err in the ceremonious points of etiquette, you will never be impolite. politeness, founded upon such a rule, becomes the expression, in graceful manner, of social virtues. the spirit of politeness consists in a certain attention to forms and ceremonies, which are meant both to please others and ourselves, and to make others pleased with us; a still clearer definition may be given by saying that politeness is goodness of heart put into daily practice; there can be no _true_ politeness without kindness, purity, singleness of heart, and sensibility. many believe that politeness is but a mask worn in the world to conceal bad passions and impulses, and to make a show of possessing virtues not really existing in the heart; thus, that politeness is merely hypocrisy and dissimulation. do not believe this; be certain that those who profess such a doctrine are practising themselves the deceit they condemn so much. such people scout politeness, because, to be truly a lady, one must carry the principles into every circumstance of life, into the family circle, the most intimate friendship, and never forget to extend the gentle courtesies of life to every one. this they find too much trouble, and so deride the idea of being polite and call it deceitfulness. true politeness is the language of a good heart, and those possessing that heart will never, under any circumstances, be rude. they may not enter a crowded saloon gracefully; they may be entirely ignorant of the _forms_ of good society; they may be awkward at table, ungrammatical in speech; but they will never be heard speaking so as to wound the feelings of another; they will never be seen making others uncomfortable by seeking solely for their own _personal_ convenience; they will always endeavor to set every one around them at ease; they will be self-sacrificing, friendly, unselfish; truly in word and deed, _polite_. give to such a woman the knowledge of the forms and customs of society, teach her how best to show the gentle courtesies of life, and you have a _lady_, created by god, only indebted for the _outward_ polish to the world. it is true that society demands this same unselfishness and courtesy, but when there is no heart in the work, the time is frittered away on the mere ceremonies, forms of etiquette, and customs of society, and this politeness seeks only its own ends; to be known as courteous, spoken of as lady-like, and not beloved as unselfish and womanly. etiquette exists in some form in all countries, has existed and will exist in all ages. from the rudest savage who dares not approach his ignorant, barbarous ruler without certain forms and ceremonies, to the most polished courts in europe, or the home circles of america, etiquette reigns. true politeness will be found, its basis in the human heart, the same in all these varied scenes and situations, but the outward forms of etiquette will vary everywhere. even in the same scene, time will alter every form, and render the exquisite polish of last year, obsolete rudeness next year. politeness, being based upon real kindness of heart, cannot exist where there is selfishness or brutality to warp its growth. it is founded upon love of the neighbor, and a desire to be beloved, and to show love. thus, where such pure, noble feelings do not exist, the mere forms of politeness become hypocrisy and deceit. rudeness will repel, where courtesy would attract friends. never by word or action notice the defects of another; be charitable, for all need charity. remember who said, "let him that is without fault cast the first stone." remember that the laws of politeness require the consideration of the feelings of others; the endeavor to make every one feel at ease; and frank courtesy towards all. never meet rudeness in others with rudeness upon your own part; even the most brutal and impolite will be more shamed by being met with courtesy and kindness, than by any attempt to annoy them by insolence on your part. politeness forbids any display of resentment. the polished surface throws back the arrow. remember that a favor becomes doubly valuable if granted with courtesy, and that the pain of a refusal may be softened if the manner expresses polite regret. kindness, even to the most humble, will never lose anything by being offered in a gentle, courteous manner, and the most common-place action will admit of grace and ease in its execution. let every action, while it is finished in strict accordance with etiquette, be, at the same time, easy, as if dictated solely by the heart. to be truly polite, remember you must be polite at _all_ times, and under _all_ circumstances. contents. page chapter i. conversation chapter ii. dress chapter iii. traveling chapter iv. how to behave at a hotel chapter v. evening parties--etiquette for the hostess chapter vi. evening parties--etiquette for the guest chapter vii. visiting--etiquette for the hostess chapter viii. visiting--etiquette for the guest chapter ix. morning receptions or calls--etiquette for the hostess chapter x. morning receptions or calls--etiquette for the caller chapter xi. dinner company--etiquette for the hostess chapter xii. dinner company--etiquette for the guest chapter xiii. table etiquette chapter xiv. conduct in the street chapter xv. letter writing chapter xvi. polite deportment and good habits chapter xvii. conduct in church chapter xviii. ball room etiquette--for the hostess chapter xix. ball room etiquette--for the guest chapter xx. places of amusement chapter xxi. accomplishments chapter xxii. servants chapter xxiii. on a young lady's conduct when contemplating marriage chapter xxiv. bridal etiquette chapter xxv. hints on health chapter xxvi. miscellaneous receipts. for the complexion, &c. ladies' book of etiquette. chapter i. conversation. the art of conversation consists in the exercise of two fine qualities. you must originate, and you must sympathize; you must possess at the same time the habit of communicating and of listening attentively. the union is rare but irresistible. none but an excessively ill-bred person will allow her attention to wander from the person with whom she is conversing; and especially she will never, while seeming to be entirely attentive to her companion, answer a remark or question made to another person, in another group. unless the conversation be general among a party of friends, confine your remarks and attention entirely to the person with whom you are conversing. steele says, "i would establish but one great general rule in conversation, which is this--that people should not talk to please themselves, but those who hear them. this would make them consider whether what they speak be worth hearing; whether there be either wit or sense in what they are about to say; and whether it be adapted to the time when, the place where, and the person to whom, it is spoken." be careful in conversation to avoid topics which may be supposed to have any direct reference to events or circumstances which may be painful for your companion to hear discussed; you may unintentionally start a subject which annoys or troubles the friend with whom you may be conversing; in that case, do not stop abruptly, when you perceive that it causes pain, and, above all, do not make the matter worse by apologizing; turn to another subject as soon as possible, and pay no attention to the agitation your unfortunate remark may have excited. many persons will, for the sake of appearing witty or smart, wound the feelings of another deeply; avoid this; it is not only ill-bred, but cruel. remember that having all the talk sustained by one person is not conversation; do not engross all the attention yourself, by refusing to allow another person an opportunity to speak, and also avoid the other extreme of total silence, or answering only in monosyllables. if your companion relates an incident or tells a story, be very careful not to interrupt her by questions, even if you do not clearly understand her; wait until she has finished her relation, and then ask any questions you may desire. there is nothing more annoying than to be so interrupted. i have heard a story told to an impertinent listener, which ran in this way:-- "i saw a fearful sight----" "when?" "i was about to tell you; last monday, on the train----" "what train?" "the train from b----. we were near the bridge----" "what bridge?" "i will tell you all about it, if you will only let me speak. i was coming from b----" "last monday, did you say?" and so on. the story was interrupted at every sentence, and the relator condemned as a most tedious story-teller, when, had he been permitted to go forward, he would have made the incident interesting and short. never interrupt any one who is speaking. it is very ill-bred. if you see that a person to whom you wish to speak is being addressed by another person, never speak until she has heard and replied; until her conversation with that person is finished. no truly polite lady ever breaks in upon a conversation or interrupts another speaker. never, in speaking to a married lady, enquire for her _husband_, or, if a gentleman, ask for his _wife_. the elegant way is to call the absent party by their name; ask mr. smith how mrs. smith is, or enquire of mrs. jones for mr. jones, but never for "your husband" or "your wife." on the other hand, if you are married, never speak of your husband as your "lord," "husband," or "good man," avoid, also, unless amongst relatives, calling him by his christian name. if you wish others to respect him, show by speaking of him in respectful terms that you do so yourself. if either your own husband or your friend's is in the army or navy, or can claim the dr., prof., or any other prefix to his name, there is no impropriety in speaking of him as the colonel, doctor, or whatever his title may be. it is a mark of ill-breeding to use french phrases or words, unless you are sure your companion is a french scholar, and, even then, it is best to avoid them. above all, do not use any foreign word or phrase, unless you have the language perfectly at your command. i heard a lady once use a spanish quotation; she had mastered that one sentence alone; but a cuban gentleman, delighted to meet an american who could converse with him in his own tongue, immediately addressed her in spanish. embarrassed and ashamed, she was obliged to confess that her knowledge of the language was confined to one quotation. never anticipate the point or joke of any anecdote told in your presence. if _you_ have heard the story before, it may be new to others, and the narrator should always be allowed to finish it in his own words. to take any sentence from the mouth of another person, before he has time to utter it, is the height of ill-breeding. avoid it carefully. never use the phrases, "what-d-ye call it," "thingummy," "what's his name," or any such substitutes for a proper name or place. if you cannot recall the names you wish to use, it is better not to tell the story or incident connected with them. no lady of high breeding will ever use these substitutes in conversation. be careful always to speak in a distinct, clear voice; at the same time avoid talking too loudly, there is a happy medium between mumbling and screaming. strive to attain it. overlook the deficiencies of others when conversing with them, as they may be the results of ignorance, and impossible to correct. never pain another person by correcting, before others, a word or phrase mispronounced or ungrammatically constructed. if your intimacy will allow it, speak of the fault upon another occasion, kindly and privately, or let it pass. do not be continually watching for faults, that you may display your own superior wisdom in correcting them. let modesty and kind feeling govern your conversation, as other rules of life. if, on the other hand, your companion uses words or expressions which you cannot understand, do not affect knowledge, or be ashamed of your ignorance, but frankly ask for an explanation. in conversing with professional gentlemen, never question them upon matters connected with their employment. an author may communicate, voluntarily, information interesting to you, upon the subject of his works, but any questions from you would be extremely rude. if you meet a physician who is attending a friend, you may enquire for their progress, but do not expect him to give you a detailed account of the disease and his manner of treating it. the same rule applies to questioning lawyers about their clients, artists on their paintings, merchants or mechanics of their several branches of business. professional or business men, when with ladies, generally wish for miscellaneous subjects of conversation, and, as their visits are for recreation, they will feel excessively annoyed if obliged to "talk shop." still many men can converse on no other subject than their every day employment. in this case listen politely, and show your interest. you will probably gain useful information in such conversation. never question the veracity of any statement made in general conversation. if you are certain a statement is false, and it is injurious to another person, who may be absent, you may quietly and courteously inform the speaker that he is mistaken, but if the falsehood is of no consequence, let it pass. if a statement appears monstrous, but you do not _know_ that it is false, listen, but do not question its veracity. it may be true, though it strikes you as improbable. never attempt to disparage an absent friend. it is the height of meanness. if others admire her, and you do not, let them have their opinion in peace; you will probably fail if you try to lower her in their esteem, and gain for yourself the character of an ill-natured, envious person. in conversing with foreigners, if they speak slightingly of the manners of your country, do not retort rudely, or resentfully. if their views are wrong, converse upon the subject, giving them frankly your views, but never retaliate by telling them that some custom of their own country is worse. a gentleman or lady of true refinement will always give your words candid consideration, and admit that an american may possibly know the customs of her country better than they do, and if your opponent is not well-bred, your rudeness will not improve his manners. let the conversation upon national subjects be candid, and at the same time courteous, and leave him to think that the _ladies_ in america are well-bred, however much he may dislike some little national peculiarity. avoid, at all times, mentioning subjects or incidents that can in any way disgust your hearers. many persons will enter into the details of sicknesses which should be mentioned only when absolutely necessary, or describe the most revolting scenes before a room full of people, or even at table. others speak of vermin, noxious plants, or instances of uncleanliness. all such conversation or allusion is excessively ill-bred. it is not only annoying, but absolutely sickening to some, and a truly lady-like person will avoid all such topics. i cannot too severely censure the habit of using sentences which admit of a double meaning. it is not only ill-bred, but indelicate, and no person of true refinement will ever do it. if you are so unfortunate as to converse with one who uses such phrases, never by word, look, or sign show that you understand any meaning beyond the plain, outspoken language. avoid always any discussion upon religious topics, unless you are perfectly certain that your remarks cannot annoy or pain any one present. if you are tête-à-tête with a friend, and such a discussion arise, inquire your companion's church and mention your own, that you may yourself avoid unpleasant remarks, and caution him. never, when advancing an opinion, assert positively that a thing "_is so_," but give your opinion _as_ an opinion. say, "i think this is so," or "these are _my_ views," but remember that your companion may be better informed upon the subject under discussion, or, where it is a mere matter of taste or feeling, do not expect that all the world will feel exactly as you do. never repeat to a person with whom you converse, any unpleasant speech you may have heard concerning her. if you can give her pleasure by the repetition of a delicate compliment, or token of approval shown by a mutual friend, tell her the pleasant speech or incident, but do not hurt her feelings, or involve her in a quarrel by the repetition of ill-natured remarks. amongst well-bred persons, every conversation is considered in a measure confidential. a lady or gentleman tacitly confides in you when he (or she) tells you an incident which may cause trouble if repeated, and you violate a confidence as much in such a repetition, as if you were bound over to secrecy. remember this. never criticise a companion's dress, or indeed make any remark whatever upon it. if a near friend, you may, if sincere, admire any article, but with a mere acquaintance let it pass unnoticed. if, however, any accident has happened to the dress, of which she is ignorant, tell her of it, and assist her in repairing the mischief. to be able to converse really well, you must read much, treasure in your memory the pearls of what you read; you must have a quick comprehension, observe passing events, and listen attentively whenever there is any opportunity of acquiring knowledge. a quick tact is necessary, too, in conversation. to converse with an entirely uneducated person upon literature, interlarding your remarks with quotations, is ill-bred. it places them in an awkward situation, and does not add to your popularity. in conversing with persons of refinement and intelligence, do not endeavor to attract their admiration by pouring forth every item of your own information upon the subject under consideration, but listen as well as talk, and modestly follow their lead. i do not mean, to assent to any opinion they may advance, if you really differ in your own tastes, but do not be _too_ ready to show your superior judgment or information. avoid argument; it is not conversation, and frequently leads to ill feeling. if you are unfortunately drawn into an argument, keep your temper under perfect control, and if you find your adversary is getting too warm, endeavor to introduce some other topic. avoid carefully any allusion to the age or personal defects of your companion, or any one who may be in the room, and be very careful in your language when speaking of a stranger to another person. i have heard a lady inquire of a gentleman, "who that frightful girl in blue could be," and receive the information that the lady in question was the gentleman's own sister. be careful, when traveling, not to wound the feelings of your friends in another country or city, by underrating their native place, or attempting to prove the superiority of your own home over theirs. very young girls are apt to suppose, from what they observe in older ones, that there is some particular manner to be put on, in talking to gentlemen, and, not knowing exactly what it is, they are embarrassed and reserved; others observe certain airs and looks, used by their elders in this intercourse, and try to imitate them, as a necessary part of company behaviours, and, so become affected, and lose that first of charms, simplicity, natural grace. to such, let me say, your companions are in error; it requires no peculiar manner, nothing to be put on, in order to converse with gentlemen, any more than with ladies; and the more pure and elevated your sentiments are, and the better cultivated your intellect is, the easier will you find it to converse pleasantly with all. one good rule can be always followed by young ladies; to converse with a lady friend as if there were gentlemen present, and to converse with a gentleman as if in the room with other ladies. avoid affectation; it is the sure test of a deceitful, vulgar mind. the best cure is to try to have those virtues which you would affect, and then they will appear naturally. chapter ii. dress. "a lady is never so well dressed as when you cannot remember what she wears." no truer remark than the above was ever made. such an effect can only be produced where every part of the dress harmonizes entirely with the other parts, where each color or shade suits the wearer's style completely, and where there is perfect neatness in each detail. one glaring color, or conspicuous article, would entirely mar the beauty of such a dress. it is, unfortunately, too much the custom in america to wear any article, or shape in make, that is fashionable, without any regard to the style of the person purchasing goods. if it is the fashion it must be worn, though it may greatly exaggerate a slight personal defect, or conceal or mar what would otherwise be a beauty. it requires the exercise of some judgment to decide how far an individual may follow the dictates of fashion, in order to avoid the appearance of eccentricity, and yet wear what is peculiarly becoming to her own face or figure. another fault of our fair countrywomen is their extravagance in dress. no better advice can be given to a young person than to dress always according to her circumstances. she will be more respected with a simple wardrobe, if it is known either that she is dependent upon her own exertions for support, or is saving a husband or father from unnecessary outlay, than if she wore the most costly fabrics, and by so doing incurred debt or burdened her relatives with heavy, unwarrantable expense. if neatness, consistency, and good taste, preside over the wardrobe of a lady, expensive fabrics will not be needed; for with the simplest materials, harmony of color, accurate fitting to the figure, and perfect neatness, she will always appear well dressed. general rules. neatness--this is the first of all rules to be observed with regard to dress. perfect cleanliness and careful adjustment of each article in the dress are indispensable in a finished toilet. let the hair be always smooth and becomingly arranged, each article exquisitely clean, neat collar and sleeves, and tidy shoes and stockings, and the simplest dress will appear well, while a torn or soiled collar, rough hair, or untidy feet will entirely ruin the effect of the most costly and elaborate dress. the many articles required in a lady's wardrobe make a neat arrangement of her drawers and closets necessary, and also require care in selecting and keeping goods in proper order. a fine collar or lace, if tumbled or soiled, will lose its beauty when contrasted with the same article in the coarsest material perfectly pure and smooth. each article of dress, when taken off, should be placed carefully and smoothly in its proper place. nice dresses should be hung up by a loop on the inside of the waistband, with the skirts turned inside out, and the body turned inside of the skirt. cloaks should hang in smooth folds from a loop on the inside of the neck. shawls should be always folded in the creases in which they were purchased. all fine articles, lace, embroidery, and handkerchiefs, should be placed by themselves in a drawer, always laid out smoothly, and kept from dust. furs should be kept in a box, alone, and in summer carefully packed, with a quantity of lump camphor to protect from moths. the bonnet should always rest upon a stand in the band-box, as the shape and trimming will both be injured by letting it lie either on the face, sides, or crown. adaptiveness--let each dress worn by a lady be suitable to the occasion upon which she wears it. a toilet may be as offensive to good taste and propriety by being too elaborate, as by being slovenly. never wear a dress which is out of place or out of season under the impression that "it will do for once," or "nobody will notice it." it is in as bad taste to receive your morning calls in an elaborate evening dress, as it would be to attend a ball in your morning wrapper. harmony--to appear well dressed without harmony, both in color and materials, is impossible. when arranging any dress, whether for home, street, or evening, be careful that each color harmonizes well with the rest, and let no one article, by its glaring costliness, make all the rest appear mean. a costly lace worn over a thin, flimsy silk, will only make the dress appear poorer, not, as some suppose, hide its defects. a rich trimming looks as badly upon a cheap dress, as a mean one does upon an expensive fabric. observe this rule always in purchasing goods. one costly article will entirely ruin the harmony in a dress, which, without it, though plain and inexpensive, would be becoming and beautiful. do not save on the dress or cloak to buy a more elaborate bonnet, but let the cost be well equalized and the effect will be good. a plain merino or dark silk, with a cloth cloak, will look much better than the most expensive velvet cloak over a cheap delaine dress. fashion--do not be too submissive to the dictates of fashion; at the same time avoid oddity or eccentricity in your dress. there are some persons who will follow, in defiance of taste and judgment, the fashion to its most extreme point; this is a sure mark of vulgarity. every new style of dress will admit of adaptation to individual cases, thus producing a pleasing, as well as fashionable effect. not only good taste, but health is often sacrificed to the silly error of dressing in the extreme of fashion. be careful to have your dress comfortable and becoming, and let the prevailing mode come into secondary consideration; avoiding, always, the other extreme of oddity or eccentricity in costume. style and form of dress--be always careful when making up the various parts of your wardrobe, that each article fits you accurately. not in the outside garments alone must this rule be followed, an ill-fitting pair of corsets, or wrinkles in any other article of the under-clothes, will make a dress set badly, even if it has been itself fitted with the utmost accuracy. a stocking which is too large, will make the boot uncomfortably tight, and too small will compress the foot, making the shoe loose and untidy. in a dress, no outlay upon the material will compensate for a badly fitting garment. a cheap calico made to fit the form accurately and easily, will give the wearer a more lady-like air than the richest silk which either wrinkles or is too tightly strained over the figure. collars or sleeves, pinned over or tightly strained to meet, will entirely mar the effect of the prettiest dress. economy--and by economy i do not mean mere cheapness. to buy a poor, flimsy fabric merely because the price is low, is extravagance, not economy; still worse if you buy articles because they are offered cheap, when you have no use for them. in purchasing goods for the wardrobe, let each material be the best of its kind. the same amount of sewing that is put into a good material, must be put into a poor one, and, as the latter will very soon wash or wear out, there must be another one to supply its place, purchased and made up, when, by buying a good article at first, this time and labor might have been saved. a good, strong material will be found cheapest in the end, though the actual expenditure of money may be larger at first. comfort--many ladies have to trace months of severe suffering to an improper disregard of comfort, in preparing their wardrobe, or in exposure after they are dressed. the most exquisite ball costume will never compensate for the injury done by tight lacing, the prettiest foot is dearly paid for by the pain a tight boot entails, and the most graceful effects will not prevent suffering from exposure to cold. a light ball dress and exquisite arrangement of the hair, too often make the wearer dare the inclemency of the coldest night, by wearing a light shawl or hood, to prevent crushing delicate lace or flowers. make it a fixed rule to have the head, feet, and chest well protected when going to a party, even at the risk of a crushed flower or a stray curl. many a fair head has been laid in a coffin, a victim to consumption, from rashly venturing out of a heated ball room, flushed and excited, with only a light protection against keen night air. the excitement of the occasion may prevent immediate discomfort in such cases, but it adds to the subsequent danger. details--be careful always that the details of your dress are perfectly finished in every point. the small articles of a wardrobe require constant care to keep in perfect order, yet they will wofully revenge themselves if neglected. let the collar, handkerchief, boots, gloves, and belts be always whole, neat, and adapted to the dress. a lace collar will look as badly over a chintz dress, as a linen one would with velvet, though each may be perfect of its kind. attention to these minor points are sure tests of taste in a lady's dress. a shabby or ill fitting boot or glove will ruin the most elaborate walking dress, while one of much plainer make and coarser fabric will be becoming and lady-like, if all the details are accurately fitted, clean, and well put on. in arranging a dress for every occasion, be careful that there is no missing string, hook, or button, that the folds hang well, and that every part is even and properly adjusted. let the skirts hang smoothly, the outside ones being always about an inch longer than the under ones; let the dress set smoothly, carefully hooked or buttoned; let the collar fit neatly, and be fastened firmly and smoothly at the throat; let shoes and stockings be whole, clean, and fit nicely; let the hair be smooth and glossy, the skin pure, and the colors and fabric of your dress harmonize and be suitable for the occasion, and you will always appear both lady-like and well-dressed. home dresses. morning dress--the most suitable dress for breakfast, is a wrapper made to fit the figure loosely, and the material, excepting when the winter weather requires woolen goods, should be of chintz, gingham, brilliante, or muslin. a lady who has children, or one accustomed to perform for herself light household duties, will soon find the advantage of wearing materials that will wash. a large apron of domestic gingham, which can be taken off, if the wearer is called to see unexpected visiters, will protect the front of the dress, and save washing the wrapper too frequently. if a lady's domestic duties require her attention for several hours in the morning, whilst her list of acquaintances is large, and she has frequent morning calls, it is best to dress for callers before breakfast, and wear over this dress a loose sack and skirt of domestic gingham. this, while protecting the dress perfectly, can be taken off at a moment's notice if callers are announced. married ladies often wear a cap in the morning, and lately, young girls have adopted the fashion. it is much better to let the hair be perfectly smooth, requiring no cap, which is often worn to conceal the lazy, slovenly arrangement of the hair. a few moments given to making the hair smooth and presentable without any covering, will not be wasted. slippers of embroidered cloth are prettiest with a wrapper, and in summer black morocco is the most suitable for the house in the morning. dress for morning visits--a lady should never receive her morning callers in a wrapper, unless they call at an unusually early hour, or some unexpected demand upon her time makes it impossible to change her dress after breakfast. on the other hand, an elaborate costume before dinner is in excessively bad taste. the dress should be made to fit the figure neatly, finished at the throat and wrists by an embroidered collar and cuffs, and, unless there is a necessity for it, in loss of the hair or age, there should be no cap or head dress worn. a wrapper made with handsome trimming, open over a pretty white skirt, may be worn with propriety; but the simple dress worn for breakfast, or in the exercise of domestic duties, is not suitable for the parlor when receiving visits of ceremony in the morning. evening dress--the home evening dress should be varied according to circumstances. if no visitor is expected, the dress worn in the morning is suitable for the evening; but to receive visitors, it should be of lighter material, and a light head-dress may be worn. for young ladies, at home, ribbon or velvet are the most suitable materials for a head-dress. flowers, unless they be natural ones in summer, are in very bad taste, excepting in cases where a party of invited guests are expected. dark silk in winter, and thin material in summer, make the most suitable dresses for evening, and the reception of the chance-guests ladies in society may usually expect. walking dresses--walking dresses, to be in good taste, should be of quiet colors, and never conspicuous. browns, modes, and neutral tints, with black and white, make the prettiest dresses for the street. above all, avoid wearing several bright colors. one may be worn with perfect propriety to take off the sombre effect of a dress of brown or black, but do not let it be too glaring, and wear but little of it. let the boots be sufficiently strong and thick to protect the feet from damp or dust, and wear always neat, clean, nicely fitting gloves. the entire effect of the most tasteful costume will be ruined if attention is not paid to the details of dress. a soiled bonnet cap, untidy strings, or torn gloves and collar will utterly spoil the prettiest costume. there is no surer mark of vulgarity than over dressing or gay dressing in the street. let the materials be of the costliest kind, if you will, but do not either wear the exaggerations of the fashion, or conspicuous colors. let good taste dictate the limits where fashion may rule, and let the colors harmonize well, and be of such tints as will not attract attention. for morning calls--the dress should be plain, and in winter furs and dark gloves may be worn. for bridal calls--the dress should be of light silk, the bonnet dressy, and either a rich shawl or light cloak; no furs, and light gloves. in summer, a lace or silk mantle and white gloves should be worn. shopping dresses--should be of such material as will bear the crush of a crowded store without injury, and neither lace or delicate fabrics should ever be worn. a dress of merino in winter, with a cloth cloak and plain velvet or silk bonnet is the most suitable. in summer, a dress and cloak of plain mode-colored lavella cloth, or any other cool but strong fabric, with a simply trimmed straw bonnet, is the best dress for a shopping excursion. storm dresses--a lady who is obliged to go out frequently in bad weather, will find it both a convenience and economy to have a storm dress. both dress and cloak should be made of a woolen material, (varying of course with the season,) which will shed water. white skirts are entirely out of place, as, if the dress is held up, they will be in a few moments disgracefully dirty. a woolen skirt, made quite short, to clear the muddy streets, is the proper thing. stout, thick-soled boots, and gloves of either silk, beaver-cloth, or lisle thread, are the most suitable. the bonnet should be either of straw or felt, simply trimmed; and, above all, carry a _large_ umbrella. the little light umbrellas are very pretty, no doubt, but to be of any real protection in a storm, the umbrella should be large enough to protect the whole dress. marketing--here a dress of the most inexpensive kind is the best. there is no surer mark of vulgarity, than a costly dress in the market. a chintz is the best skirt to wear, and in winter a dark chintz skirt put on over a delaine dress, will protect it from baskets, and the unavoidable soils contracted in a market, while it looks perfectly well, and can be washed if required. traveling--traveling dresses should be made always of some quiet color, perfectly plain, with a deep mantle or cloak of the same material. when traveling with a young babe, a dress of material that will wash is the best, but it should be dark and plain. a conspicuous traveling dress is in very bad taste, and jewelry or ornaments of any kind are entirely out of place. let the dress be made of dark, plain material, with a simple straw or felt bonnet, trimmed with the same color as the dress, and a thick barege veil. an elastic string run through a tuck made in the middle of the veil, will allow one half to fall over the face, while the other half falls back, covering the bonnet, and protecting it from dust. if white collars and sleeves are worn, they should be of linen, perfectly plain. strong boots and thick gloves are indispensable in traveling, and a heavy shawl should be carried, to meet any sudden change in the weather. corsets and petticoats of dark linen are more suitable than white ones, as there is so much unavoidable dust and mud constantly meeting a traveler. evening dresses--must be governed by the number of guests you may expect to meet, and the character of the entertainment to which you are invited. for small social companies, a dark silk in winter, and a pretty lawn, barege, or white muslin in summer, are the most appropriate. a light head-dress of ribbon or velvet, or a plain cap, are the most suitable with this dress. for a larger party, low-necked, short-sleeved silk, light colored, or any of the thin goods made expressly for evening wear, with kid gloves, either of a color to match the dress or of white; black lace mittens are admissible, and flowers in the hair. a ball dress should be made of either very dressy silk, or light, thin material made over silk. it should be trimmed with lace, flowers, or ribbon, and made dressy. the _coiffure_ should be elaborate, and match the dress, being either of ribbon, feather, or flowers. white kid gloves, trimmed to match the dress, and white or black satin slippers, with silk stockings, must be worn. mourning--there is such a variety of opinion upon the subject of mourning, that it is extremely difficult to lay down any general rules upon the subject. some wear very close black for a long period, for a distant relative; whilst others will wear dressy mourning for a short time in a case of death in the immediate family. there is no rule either for the depth of mourning, or the time when it may be laid aside, and i must confine my remarks to the different degrees of mourning. for deep mourning, the dress should be of bombazine, parramatta cloth, delaine, barege, or merino, made up over black lining. the only appropriate trimming is a deep fold, either of the same material or of crape. the shawl or cloak must be of plain black, without border or trimming, unless a fold of crape be put on the cloak; the bonnet should be of crape, made perfectly plain, with crape facings, unless the widow's cap be worn, and a deep crape veil should be thrown over both face and bonnet. black crape collar and sleeves, and black boots and gloves. the next degree is to wear white collar and sleeves, a bow of crape upon the bonnet, and plain white lace facings, leaving off the crape veil, and substituting one of plain black net. a little later, black silk without any gloss, trimmed with crape, may be worn, and delaine or bombazine, with a trimming of broad, plain ribbon, or a bias fold of silk. the next stage admits a silk bonnet trimmed with crape, and lead color, dark purple, or white figures on the dress. from this the mourning passes into second mourning. here a straw bonnet, trimmed with black ribbon or crape flowers, or a silk bonnet with black flowers on the outside, and white ones in the face, a black silk dress, and gray shawl or cloak, may be worn. lead color, purple, lavender, and white, are all admissible in second mourning, and the dress may be lightened gradually, a white bonnet, shawl, and light purple or lavender dress, being the dress usually worn last, before the mourning is thrown aside entirely, and colors resumed. it is especially to be recommended to buy always the best materials when making up mourning. crape and woolen goods of the finest quality are very expensive, but a cheaper article will wear miserably; there is no greater error in economy than purchasing cheap mourning, for no goods are so inferior, or wear out and grow rusty so soon. chapter iii. traveling. there is no situation in which a lady is more exposed than when she travels, and there is no position where a dignified, lady-like deportment is more indispensable and more certain to command respect. if you travel under the escort of a gentleman, give him as little trouble as possible; at the same time, do not interfere with the arrangements he may make for your comfort. it is best, when starting upon your journey, to hand your escort a sufficient sum of money to cover all your expenses, retaining your pocket book in case you should wish to use it. have a strong pocket made in your upper petticoat, and in that carry your money, only reserving in your dress pocket a small sum for incidental expenses. in your traveling satchel carry an oil skin bag, containing your sponge, tooth and nail brushes, and some soap; have also a calico bag, with hair brush and comb, some pins, hair pins, a small mirror, and some towels. in this satchel carry also some crackers, or sandwiches, if you will be long enough upon the road to need a luncheon. in your carpet bag, carry a large shawl, and if you will travel by night, or stop where it will be inconvenient to open your trunks, carry your night clothes, and what clean linen you may require, in the carpet bag. it is best to have your name and address engraved upon the plate of your carpet bag, and to sew a white card, with your name and the address to which you are traveling, in clear, plain letters upon it. if you carry a novel or any other reading, it is best to carry the book in your satchel, and not open the carpet bag until you are ready for the night. if you are to pass the night in the cars, carry a warm woolen or silk hood, that you may take off your bonnet at night. no one can sleep comfortably in a bonnet. carry also, in this case, a large shawl to wrap round your feet. one rule to be always observed in traveling is punctuality. rise early enough to have ample time for arranging everything needful for the day's journey. if you sleep upon the boat, or at a hotel, always give directions to the servant to waken you at an hour sufficiently early to allow ample time for preparation. it is better to be all ready twenty minutes too soon, than five minutes late, or even late enough to be annoyed and heated by hurrying at the last moment. a lady will always dress plainly when traveling. a gay dress, or finery of any sort, when in a boat, stage, or car, lays a woman open to the most severe misconstruction. wear always neutral tints, and have the material made up plainly and substantially, but avoid carefully any article of dress that is glaring or conspicuous. above all, never wear jewelry, (unless it be your watch,) or flowers; they are both in excessively bad taste. a quiet, unpretending dress, and dignified demeanor, will insure for a lady respect, though she travel alone from maine to florida. if you are obliged to pass the night upon a steamboat secure, if possible, a stateroom. you will find the luxury of being alone, able to retire and rise without witnesses, fully compensates for the extra charge. before you retire, find out the position and number of the stateroom occupied by your escort, in case you wish to find him during the night. in times of terror, from accident or danger, such care will be found invaluable. you may not be able to obtain a stateroom upon all occasions when traveling, and must then sleep in the ladies' cabin. it is best, in this case, to take off the dress only, merely loosening the stays and skirts, and, unless you are sick, you may sit up to read until quite a late hour. never allow your escort to accompany you into the cabin. the saloon is open always to both ladies and gentlemen, and the cabin is for ladies _alone_. many ladies are sufficiently ill-bred to ask a husband or brother into the cabin, and keep him there talking for an hour or two, totally overlooking the fact that by so doing she may be keeping others, suffering, perhaps, with sickness, from removing their dresses to lie down. such conduct is not only excessively ill-bred, but intensely selfish. there is scarcely any situation in which a lady can be placed, more admirably adapted to test her good breeding, than in the sleeping cabin of a steam-boat. if you are so unfortunate as to suffer from sea-sickness, your chances for usefulness are limited, and patient suffering your only resource. in this case, never leave home without a straw-covered bottle of brandy, and another of camphor, in your carpet-bag. if you are not sick, be very careful not to keep the chambermaid from those who are suffering; should you require her services, dismiss her as soon as possible. as acquaintances, formed during a journey, are not recognized afterwards, unless mutually agreeable, do not refuse either a pleasant word or any little offer of service from your companions; and, on the other hand, be ready to aid them, if in your power. in every case, selfishness is the root of all ill-breeding, and it is never more conspicuously displayed than in traveling. a courteous manner, and graceful offer of service are valued highly when offered, and the giver loses nothing by her civility. when in the car if you find the exertion of talking painful, say so frankly; your escort cannot be offended. do not continually pester either your companion or the conductor with questions, such as "where are we now?" "when shall we arrive?" if you are wearied, this impatience will only make the journey still more tedious. try to occupy yourself with looking at the country through which you are passing, or with a book. if you are traveling without any escort, speak to the conductor before you start, requesting him to attend to you whilst in the car or boat under his control. sit quietly in the cars when they reach the depot until the first bustle is over, and then engage a porter to procure for you a hack, and get your baggage. if upon a boat, let one of the servants perform this office, being careful to fee him for it. make an engagement with the hackman, to take you only in his hack, and enquire his charge before starting. in this way you avoid unpleasant company during your drive, and overcharge at the end of it. if you expect a friend to meet you at the end of your journey, sit near the door of the steam-boat saloon, or in the ladies' room at the car depot, that he may find you easily. there are many little civilities which a true gentleman will offer to a lady traveling alone, which she may accept, even from an entire stranger, with perfect propriety; but, while careful to thank him courteously, whether you accept or decline his attentions, avoid any advance towards acquaintanceship. if he sits near you and seems disposed to be impertinent, or obtrusive in his attentions or conversation, lower your veil and turn from him, either looking from the window or reading. a dignified, modest reserve is the surest way to repel impertinence. if you find yourself, during your journey, in any awkward or embarrassing situation, you may, without impropriety, request the assistance of a gentleman, even a stranger, and he will, probably, perform the service requested, receive your thanks, and then relieve you of his presence. never, upon any account, or under any provocation, return rudeness by rudeness. nothing will rebuke incivility in another so surely as perfect courtesy in your own manner. many will be shamed into apology, who would annoy you for hours, if you encouraged them by acts of rudeness on your own part. in traveling alone, choose, if possible, a seat next to another lady, or near an elderly gentleman. if your neighbor seems disposed to shorten the time by conversing, do not be too hasty in checking him. such acquaintances end with the journey, and a lady can always so deport herself that she may beguile the time pleasantly, without, in the least, compromising her dignity. any slight attention, or an apology made for crushing or incommoding you, is best acknowledged by a courteous bow, in silence. chapter iv. how to behave at a hotel. in america, where the mania for traveling extends through all classes, from the highest to the lowest, a few hints upon deportment at a hotel will not be amiss, and these hints are especially addressed to ladies traveling alone. when you arrive at the hotel, enquire at once for the proprietor. tell him your name and address, and ask him to conduct you to a good room, naming the length of time you purpose occupying it. you may also request him to wait upon you to the table, and allot you a seat. as the hours for meals, at a large hotel, are very numerous, it is best to mention the time when you wish to breakfast, dine, or sup. if you stay more than one day at the hotel, do not tax the proprietor with the duty of escorting you to the table more than once. request one of the waiters always to meet you as you enter, and wait upon you to your seat. this saves the embarrassment of crossing the room entirely unattended, while it shows others that you are a resident at the house. the waiter will then take your order for the dishes you wish. give this order in a low tone, and do not harass the man by contradicting yourself several times; decide what you want before you ask for it, and then give your order quietly but distinctly. use, always, the butter-knife, salt-spoon, and sugar-tongs, though you may be entirely alone in the use of them. the attention to the small details of table etiquette is one of the surest marks of good breeding. if any trifling civility is offered by the gentleman beside you, or opposite to you, thank him civilly, if you either accept or decline it. thank the waiter for any extra attention he may offer. remember that a lady-like deportment is always modest and quiet. if you meet a friend at table, and converse, let it be in a tone of voice sufficiently loud for him to hear, but not loud enough to reach ears for which the remarks are not intended. a boisterous, loud voice, loud laughter, and bold deportment, at a hotel, are sure signs of vulgar breeding. when you have finished your meal, cross the room quietly; if you go into the parlor, do not attract attention by a hasty entrance, or forward manner, but take the seat you may select, quietly. the acquaintances made in a hotel may be dropped afterwards, if desirable, without rudeness, and a pleasant greeting to other ladies whom you may recognize from meeting them in the entries or at table, is courteous and well-bred; be careful, however, not to force attentions where you see they are not agreeably received. a lady's dress, when alone at a hotel, should be of the most modest kind. at breakfast let her wear a close, morning dress, and never, even at supper, appear alone at the table with bare arms or neck. if she comes in late from the opera or a party, in full dress, she should not come into the supper-room, unless her escort accompanies her. a traveling or walking-dress can be worn with perfect propriety, at any meal at a hotel, as it is usually travelers who are the guests at the table. after breakfast, pass an hour or two in the parlor, unless you are going out, whilst the chambermaid puts your room in order. you should, before leaving the room, lock your trunk, and be careful not to leave money or trinkets lying about. when you go out, lock your door, and give the key to the servant to hand to the clerk of the office, who will give it to you when you return. you may do this, even if you leave the room in disorder, as the chambermaids all carry duplicate keys, and can easily enter your room in your absence to arrange it. the door should not be left open, as dishonest persons, passing along the entry, could enter without fear of being questioned. if you see that another lady, though she may be an entire stranger, is losing her collar, or needs attention called to any disorder in her dress, speak to her in a low tone, and offer to assist her in remedying the difficulty. be careful always in opening a door or raising a window in a public parlor, that you are not incommoding any one else. never sit down to the piano uninvited, unless you are alone in the parlor. do not take any book you may find in the room away from it. it is best always to carry writing materials with you, but if this is not convenient, you can always obtain them at the office. in a strange city it is best to provide yourself with a small map and guide book, that you may be able to find your way from the hotel to any given point, without troubling any one for directions. if you wish for a carriage, ring, and let the waiter order one for you. when leaving a hotel, if you have been there for several days, give the waiter at table, and the chambermaid, a fee, as your unprotected situation will probably call for many services out of their regular routine of duties. on leaving, ring, order your bill, pay it, state the time at which you wish to leave, and the train you will take to leave the city. request a man to be sent, to carry your baggage to the hack; and if you require your next meal at an unusual hour, to be ready for your journey, order it then. chapter v. evening parties. etiquette for the hostess. the most fashionable as well as pleasant way in the present day, to entertain guests, is to invite them to evening parties, which vary in size from the "company," "sociable," "soirée," to the party, _par excellence_, which is but one step from the ball. the entertainment upon such occasions, may vary with the taste of the hostess, or the caprice of her guests. some prefer dancing, some music, some conversation. small parties called together for dramatic or poetical readings, are now fashionable, and very delightful. in writing an invitation for a small party, it is kind, as well as polite, to specify the number of guests invited, that your friends may dress to suit the occasion. to be either too much, or too little dressed at such times is embarrassing. for large parties, the usual formula is: _miss s----'s compliments to miss g----, and requests the pleasure of her company for wednesday, march th, at o'clock._ such an invitation, addressed either to an intimate friend or mere acquaintance, will signify full dress. if your party is a musical soirée, or your friends meet for reading or conversation alone, say so in your invitation, as-- _miss s---- requests the pleasure of miss g----'s company, on thursday evening next, at o'clock, to meet the members of the musical club, to which miss s---- belongs_; or, _miss s---- expects a few friends, on monday evening next, at o'clock, to take part in some dramatic readings, and would be happy to have miss g---- join the party._ always date your note of invitation, and put your address in one corner. having dispatched these notes, the next step is to prepare to receive your guests. if the number invited is large, and you hire waiters, give them notice several days beforehand, and engage them to come in the morning. give them full directions for the supper, appoint one to open the door, another to show the guests to the dressing rooms, and a third to wait in the gentlemen's dressing-room, to attend to them, if their services are required. if you use your own plate, glass, and china, show the waiters where to find them, as well as the table cloths, napkins, and other things they may require. if you hire the service from the confectioner's or restaurateur's where you order your supper, you have only to show your waiters where to spread supper, and tell them the hour. you will have to place at least four rooms at the disposal of your guests--the supper room, and two dressing-rooms, beside the drawing-room. in the morning, see that the fires in your rooms are in good order; and in the drawing-room, it is best to have it so arranged that the heat can be lessened towards evening, as the crowd, and dancing, will make it excessively uncomfortable if the rooms are too warm. see that the lights are in good order, and if you propose to have music instead of dancing, or to use your piano for dancing music, have it put in good tune in the morning. if you intend to dance, and do not wish to take up the carpets, you will find it economical, as well as much pleasanter, to cover them with coarse white muslin or linen; be sure it is fastened down smoothly, firmly, and drawn tightly over the carpets. do not remove all the chairs from the parlor; or, if this is necessary, leave some in the hall, for those who wish to rest after dancing. in the dining-room, unless it will accommodate all your guests at once, have a silk cord so fastened that, when the room is full, it can be drawn across the door-way; those following the guests already in the room, will then return to the parlor, and wait their turn. a still better way, is to set the supper table twice, inviting the married and elderly people to go into the first table, and then, after it is ready for the second time, let the young folks go up. two dressing-rooms must be ready; one for the ladies, and the other for the gentlemen. have both these rooms comfortably heated, and well lighted. nothing can be more disagreeable than cold, ill-lighted rooms to dress in, particularly if your guests come in half-frozen by the cold of a winter's night, or still worse, damp from a stormy one. be sure that there is plenty of water, soap and towels on the washstand, two or three brushes and combs on the bureau, two mirrors, one large and one small, and a pin cushion, well filled with large and small pins. in the ladies' room, have one, or if your party is large, two women to wait upon your guests; to remove their cloaks, overshoes, and hoods, and assist them in smoothing their dresses or hair. after each guest removes her shawl and hood, let one of the maids roll all the things she lays aside into a bundle, and put it where she can easily find it. it is an admirable plan, and prevents much confusion, to pin to each bundle, a card, or strip of paper, (previously prepared,) with the name of the person to whom it belongs written clearly and distinctly upon it. upon the bureau in the ladies' room, have a supply of hair-pins, and a workbox furnished with everything requisite to repair any accident that may happen to the dress of a guest. it is well, also, to have eau de cologne, hartshorn, and salts, in case of sudden faintness. in the gentlemen's room, place a clothes brush and boot-jack. it is best to send out your invitations by your own servant, or one hired for that purpose especially. it is ill-bred to send invitations either by the dispatch, or through the post-office; and besides being discourteous, you risk offending your friends, as these modes of delivery are proverbially uncertain. be dressed and ready to receive your guests in good season, as some, in their desire to be punctual, may come before the time appointed. it is better to be ready too soon, than too late, as your guests will feel painfully embarrassed if you are not ready to receive them. for the early part of the evening, take a position in your parlor, near or opposite to the door, that each guest may find you easily. it is not necessary to remain all the evening nailed to this one spot, but stay near it until your guests have all or nearly all assembled. late comers will of course expect to find you entertaining your guests. as each guest or party enter the room, advance a few steps to meet them, speaking first to the lady, or if there are several ladies, to the eldest, then to the younger ones, and finally to the gentlemen. if the new comers are acquainted with those already in the room, they will leave you, after a few words of greeting, to join their friends; but if they are strangers to the city, or making their first visit to your house, introduce them to a friend who is well acquainted in your circle, who will entertain them till you can again join them and introduce them to others. do not leave the room during the evening. to see a hostess fidgeting, constantly going in and out, argues ill for her tact in arranging the house for company. with well-trained waiters, you need give yourself no uneasiness about the arrangements outside of the parlors. the perfection of good breeding in a hostess, is perfect ease of manner; for the time she should appear to have no thought or care beyond the pleasure of her guests. have a waiter in the hall to open the front door, and another at the head of the first flight of stairs, to point out to the ladies and gentlemen their respective dressing-rooms. never try to outshine your guests in dress. it is vulgar in the extreme. a hostess should be dressed as simply as is consistent with the occasion, wearing, if she will, the richest fabrics, exquisitely made, but avoiding any display of jewels or gay colors, such as will be, probably, more conspicuous than those worn by her guests. remember, from the moment your first guest enters the parlor, you must forget yourself entirely to make the evening pleasant for others. your duties will call you from one group to another, and require constant watchfulness that no one guest is slighted. be careful that none of the company are left to mope alone from being unacquainted with other guests. introduce gentlemen to ladies, and gentlemen to gentlemen, ladies to ladies. it requires much skill and tact to make a party for conversation only, go off pleasantly. you must invite only such guests as will mutually please, and you must be careful about introductions. if you have a literary lion upon your list, it is well to invite other lions to meet him or her, that the attention may not be constantly concentrated upon one person. where you see a couple conversing slowly and wearily, stir them up with a few sprightly words, and introduce a new person, either to make a trio, or, as a substitute in the duet, carrying off the other one of the couple to find a more congenial companion elsewhere. never interrupt an earnest or apparently interesting conversation. neither party will thank you, even if you propose the most delightful substitute. if your party meet for reading, have a table with the books in the centre of the apartment, that will divide the room, those reading being on one side, the listeners on the other. be careful here not to endeavor to shine above your guests, leaving to them the most prominent places, and taking, cheerfully, a subordinate place. on the other hand, if you are urged to display any talent you may possess in this way, remember your only desire is to please your guests, and if they are really desirous to listen to you, comply, gracefully and promptly, with their wishes. if you have dancing, and have not engaged a band, it is best to hire a pianist for the evening to play dancing music. you will find it exceedingly wearisome to play yourself all the evening, and it is ill-bred to ask any guest to play for others to dance. this victimizing of some obliging guest is only too common, but no true lady will ever be guilty of such rudeness. if there are several members of the family able and willing to play, let them divide this duty amongst them, or, if you wish to play yourself, do so. if any guest, in this case, offers to relieve you, accept their kindness for _one_ dance only. young people, who enjoy dancing, but who also play well, will often stay on the piano-stool all the evening, because their own good-nature will not allow them to complain, and their hostess wilfully, or through negligence, permits the tax. see that your guests are well provided with partners, introducing every gentleman and lady who dances, to one who will dance well with them. be careful that none sit still through your negligence in providing partners. do not dance yourself, when, by so doing, you are preventing a guest from enjoying that pleasure. if a lady is wanted to make up a set, then dance, or if, late in the evening, you have but few lady dancers left, but do not interfere with the pleasure in others. if invited, say that you do not wish to take the place of a guest upon the floor, and introduce the gentleman who invites you to some lady friend who dances. it is very pleasant in a dancing party to have ices _alone_, handed round at about ten o'clock, having supper set two or three hours later. they are very refreshing, when it would be too early to have the more substantial supper announced. it is very customary now, even in large parties, to have no refreshments but ice-cream, lemonade, and cake, or, in summer, fruit, cake, and ices. it is less troublesome, as well as less expensive, than a hot supper, and the custom will be a good one to adopt permanently. one word of warning to all hostesses. you can never know, when you place wine or brandy before your guests, whom you may be tempting to utter ruin. better, far better, to have a reputation as strict, or mean, than by your example, or the temptation you offer, to have the sin upon your soul of having put poison before those who partook of your hospitality. it is not necessary; hospitality and generosity do not require it, and you will have the approval of all who truly love you for your good qualities, if you resolutely refuse to have either wine or any other intoxicating liquor upon your supper-table. if the evening of your party is stormy, let a waiter stand in the vestibule with a _large_ umbrella, to meet the ladies at the carriage door, and protect them whilst crossing the pavement and steps. when your guests take leave of you, it will be in the drawing-room, and let that farewell be final. do not accompany them to the dressing-room, and never stop them in the hall for a last word. many ladies do not like to display their "sortie du soirée" before a crowded room, and you will be keeping their escort waiting. say farewell in the parlor, and do not repeat it. if your party is mixed, that is, conversation, dancing, and music are all mingled, remember it is your place to invite a guest to sing or play, and be careful not to offend any amateur performers by forgetting to invite them to favor the company. if they decline, never urge the matter. if the refusal proceeds from unwillingness or inability on that occasion, it is rude to insist; and if they refuse for the sake of being urged, they will be justly punished by a disappointment. if you have guests who, performing badly, will expect an invitation to play, sacrifice their desire to the good of the others, pass them by. it is torture to listen to bad music. do not ask a guest to sing or play more than once. this is her fair share, and you have no right to tax her too severely to entertain your other guests. if, however, the performance is so pleasing that others ask for a repetition, then you too may request it, thanking the performer for the pleasure given. chapter vi. evening parties. etiquette for the guest. upon receiving an invitation for an evening party, answer it immediately, that your hostess may know for how many guests she must provide. if, after accepting an invitation, any unforeseen event prevents your keeping the engagement, write a second note, containing your regrets. the usual form is:-- _miss g---- accepts with pleasure miss s----'s polite invitation for monday next_; or, _miss g---- regrets that a prior engagement will prevent her accepting miss s----'s kind invitation for monday evening._ punctuality is a mark of politeness, if your invitation states the hour at which your hostess will be ready to welcome you. do not be more than half an hour later than the time named, but if unavoidably detained, make no apology when you meet your hostess; it will be in bad taste to speak of your want of punctuality. when you arrive at your friend's house, do not stop to speak to any one in the hall, or upon the stairs, but go immediately to the dressing room. the gentleman who accompanies you will go to the door of the lady's room, leave you, to remove his own hat and over-coat, and then return to the door to wait for you. in the dressing-room, do not push forward to the mirror if you see that others are before you there. wait for your turn, then perform the needful arrangements of your toilette quickly, and re-join your escort as soon as possible. if you meet friends in the lady's-room, do not stop there to chat; you keep your escort waiting, and your friends will join you in the parlor a few moments later. avoid all confidential communications or private remarks in the dressing-room. you may be overheard, and give pain or cause annoyance by your untimely conversation. when you enter the parlor, go immediately to your hostess, and speak to her; if the gentleman attending you is a stranger to the lady of the house, introduce him, and then join the other guests, as by delaying, to converse too long with your hostess, you may prevent her speaking to others who have arrived later than yourself. if you have no escort, you may with perfect propriety send for the master of the house, to wait upon you from the dressing-room to the parlor, and as soon as you have spoken to the hostess, thank your host and release him, as the same attention may be required by others. again, when alone, if you meet a friend in the dressing-room, you may ask the privilege of entering the parlor with her and her escort; or, if she also is alone, there is no impropriety in _two_ ladies going into the room unattended by a gentleman. while you maintain a cheerful deportment, avoid loud talking and laughing, and still more carefully avoid any action or gesture that may attract attention and make you conspicuous. when dressing for a party, while you show that you honor the occasion by a tasteful dress, avoid glaring colors, or any conspicuous ornament or style of costume. avoid long tête-à-tête conversations; they are in bad taste, and to hold confidential communication, especially with gentlemen, is still worse. do not make any display of affection for even your dearest friend; kissing in public, or embracing, are in bad taste. walking with arms encircling waists, or such demonstrative tokens of love, are marks of low breeding. avoid crossing the room alone, and never run, even if you feel embarrassed, and wish to cross quickly. if you are a musician, and certain that you will confer pleasure by a display of your talents, do not make a show of reluctance when invited to play or sing. comply gracefully, and after one piece, leave the instrument. be careful to avoid the appearance of wishing to be invited, and, above all, never hint that this would be agreeable. if your hostess has requested you to bring your notes, and you are dependent upon them, bring them, and quietly place them on the music stand, or, still better, send them in the afternoon. it is a better plan, if you are called upon frequently to contribute in this way to the evening's amusement, to learn a few pieces so as to play them perfectly well without notes. never attempt any piece before company, unless you are certain that you can play it without mistake or hesitation. when you have finished your song or piece, rise instantly from the piano stool, as your hostess may wish to invite another guest to take the place. if you have a reason for declining to play, do so decidedly when first invited, and do not change your decision. if your hostess or any of the family play for the guests to dance, it is both polite and kind to offer to relieve them; and if truly polite themselves, they will not take advantage of the offer, to _over_ tax your good nature. when others are playing or singing, listen quietly and attentively; to laugh or talk loudly when there is music in the room, is rude, both toward the performer and your hostess. if you are conversing at the time the music begins, and you find that your companion is not disposed to listen to the performer at the harp or piano, converse in a low tone, and take a position at some distance from the instrument. if the rooms are not large enough for all the guests to dance at one time, do not dance every set, even if invited. it is ill-bred and selfish. when you go up to supper, do not accept anything from any gentleman but the one who has escorted you from the parlor. if others offer you, as they probably will, any refreshment, say that mr. ---- (naming your escort) has gone to get you what you desire. he has a right to be offended, if, after telling him what you wish for, he returns to find you already supplied. it is quite as rude to offer what he brings to another lady. her escort is probably on the same errand from which yours has just returned. it may seem trivial and childish to warn a lady against putting cakes or bon-bons in her pocket at supper, yet it is often done by those who would deeply resent the accusation of rudeness or meanness. it is not only ill-bred, but it gives rise, if seen, to suspicions that you are so little accustomed to society, or so starved at home, that you are ignorant of the forms of etiquette, or are forced to the theft by positive hunger. if you are obliged to leave the company at an earlier hour than the other guests, say so to your hostess in a low tone, when you have an opportunity, and then stay a short time in the room, and slip out unperceived. by a formal leave-taking, you may lead others to suppose the hour later than it is in reality, and thus deprive your hostess of other guests, who, but for your example, would have remained longer. french leave is preferable to a formal leave-taking upon such occasions. if you remain until the usual hour for breaking up, go to your hostess before you leave the room, express the pleasure you have enjoyed, and bid her farewell. within the next week, you should call upon your hostess, if it is the first party you have attended at her house. if she is an intimate friend, the call should be made within a fortnight. chapter vii. visiting. etiquette for the hostess. when you write to invite a friend to visit you, name a time when it will be convenient and agreeable for you to receive her, and if she accepts your invitation, so arrange your duties and engagements that they will not interfere with your devoting the principal part of your time to the entertainment of your guest. if you have certain duties which must be performed daily, say so frankly when she first arrives, and see that during the time you are so occupied she has work, reading, music, or some other employment, to pass the time away pleasantly. have a room prepared especially for her use, and let her occupy it alone. many persons have a dislike to any one sleeping with them, and will be kept awake by a companion in the room or bed. above all, do not put a child to sleep in the chamber with your guest. the day before your friend arrives, have her room swept, dusted, and aired; put clean, fresh linen upon the bed, see that the curtains are in good order, the locks in perfect repair, and the closet or wardrobe and bureau empty for her clothes. have upon the bureau a pin cushion well filled, hair pins, brush and comb, and two mirrors, one large, and one small for the hand, as she may wish to smooth her hair, without unpacking her own toilet articles. upon the washstand, have two pitchers full of water, a cup, tumbler, soap-dish and soap, basin, brush-dish, and a sponge, wash rag, and plenty of clean towels. have both a feather bed and a mattress upon the bedstead, that she may place whichever she prefers uppermost. two sheets, a blanket, quilt, and counterpane, should be on the bed, and there should be two extra blankets in the room, should she require more covering in the night. on the mantel piece, place a few books that she may read, if she wishes, before sleeping. have upon the mantel piece a box of matches, and if the room is not lighted by gas, have also a supply of candles in a box, and a candlestick. if the room is not heated by a furnace, be careful that the fire is made every morning before she rises, and keep a good supply of fuel in the room. besides the larger chairs, have a low one, to use while changing the shoes or washing the feet. upon the table, place a full supply of writing materials, as your guest may wish to send word of her safe arrival before unpacking her own writing-desk. put two or three postage stamps upon this table. be sure that bells, locks, hinges, and windows, are all in perfect order. before your guest arrives, go to her room. if it is in winter, have a good fire, hot water on the washstand, and see that the windows are tightly closed, and the room cheerful with sunshine, or plenty of candle or gas light. if in summer, draw the curtains, bow the shutters, open the windows, and have a fan upon the table. it is well to have a bath ready, should your guest desire that refreshment after the dust and heat of traveling. when the time arrives at which you may expect your guest, send a carriage to the station to meet her, and, if possible, go yourself, or send some member of the family to welcome her there. after her baggage is on the carriage, drive immediately to the house, and be certain all is ready there for her comfort. as soon as she is at your house, have her trunks carried immediately to her own room, and lead her there yourself. then, after warmly assuring her how welcome she is, leave her alone to change her dress, bathe, or lie down if she wishes. if her journey has been a long one, and it is not the usual hour for your next meal, have a substantial repast ready for her about half an hour after her arrival, with tea or coffee. if she arrives late at night, after she has removed her bonnet and bathed her face, invite her to partake of a substantial supper, and then pity her weariness and lead the way to her room. she may politely assert that she can still sit up and talk, but be careful you do not keep her up too long; and do not waken her in the morning. after the first day, she will, of course, desire to breakfast at your usual hour, but if she has had a long, fatiguing journey, she will be glad to sleep late the first day. be careful that she has a hot breakfast ready when she does rise, and take a seat at the table to wait upon her. after the chambermaid has arranged the guest-chamber in the morning, go in yourself and see that all is in order, and comfortable, and that there is plenty of fresh water and towels, the bed properly made, and the room dusted. then do not go in again through the day, unless invited. if you are constantly running in, to put a chair back, open or shut the windows, or arrange the furniture, you will entirely destroy the pleasantest part of your guest's visit, by reminding her that she is not at home, and must not take liberties, even in her own room. it looks, too, as if you were afraid to trust her, and thought she would injure the furniture. if you have children, forbid them to enter the room your friend occupies, unless she invites them to do so, or they are sent there with a message. if your household duties will occupy your time for some hours in the morning, introduce your guest to the piano, book-case, or picture-folio, and place all at her service. when your duties are finished, either join her in her own room, or invite her to sit with you, and work, chatting, meanwhile, together. if you keep your own carriage, place it at her disposal as soon as she arrives. if she is a stranger in the city, accompany her to the points of interest she may wish to visit, and also offer to show her where to find the best goods, should she wish to do any shopping. enquire of your visitor if there is any particular habit she may wish to indulge in, such as rising late, retiring early, lying down in the daytime, or any other habit that your family do not usually follow. if there is, arrange it so that she may enjoy her peculiarity in comfort. if there is any dish which is distasteful to her, avoid placing it upon the table during her visit, and if she mentions, in conversation, any favorite dish, have it frequently placed before her. if she is accustomed to eat just before retiring, and your family do not take supper, see that something is sent to her room every night. if your friend has intimate friends in the same city, beside yourself, it is an act of kindly courtesy to invite them to dinner, tea, or to pass a day, and when calls are made, and you see that it would be pleasant, invite the caller to remain to dinner or tea. never accept any invitation, either to a party, ball, or public entertainment, that does not include your guest. in answering the invitation give that as your reason for declining, when another note will be sent enclosing an invitation for her. if the invitation is from an intimate friend, say, in answering it, that your guest is with you, and that she will accompany you. it is a mistaken idea to suppose that hospitality and courtesy require _constant_ attention to a guest. there are times when she may prefer to be alone, either to write letters, to read, or practice. some ladies follow a guest from one room to another, never leaving them alone for a single instant, when they would enjoy an hour or two in the library or at the piano, but do not like to say so. the best rule is to make your guest feel that she is heartily welcome, and perfectly at home. when she is ready to leave you, see that her trunks are strapped in time by the servants, have a carriage ready to take her to the station, have the breakfast or dinner at an hour that will suit her, prepare a luncheon for her to carry, and let some gentleman in the family escort her to the wharf, check her trunks, and procure her tickets. if your guest is in mourning, decline any invitations to parties or places of amusement whilst she is with you. show her by such little attentions that you sympathize in her recent affliction, and that the pleasure of her society, and the love you bear her, make such sacrifices of gayety trifling, compared with the sweet duty of comforting her. chapter viii. visiting. etiquette for the guest. as a first rule with regard to paying a visit, the best one is, never to accept a _general_ invitation. instances are very common where women (i cannot say _ladies_) have, upon a slight acquaintance, and a "when you are in c---- i should be very happy to have you visit me," actually gone to c---- from their own home, and, with bag and baggage, quartered themselves upon the hospitality of their newly made friend, for weeks at a time. even where there is a long standing friendship it is not well to visit uninvited. it is impossible for you, in another city, to know exactly when it will be convenient for your friend to have you visit her, unless she tells you, and that will, of course, be a special invitation. if your friends are really desirous to have you pay them a visit, they will name a time when it will be convenient and agreeable to have you come, and you may accept the invitation with the certainty that you will not incommode them. self-proposed visits are still worse. you, in a manner, force an invitation from your friend when you tell her that you can come at a certain time, unless you have previously arranged to let her know when you can be her guest. in that case, your own time is understood to be the most agreeable for her. if, whilst traveling, you pass through a town where you have friends whom you wish to visit, and who would be hurt if you omitted to do so, go first to a hotel, and either call or send word that you are there. then, it is optional with them to extend their hospitality or not. do not be offended if it is not done. the love for you may be undiminished, and the desire to entertain you very great, yet family reasons may render such an invitation as you expect, impossible. your friend may have engagements or duties at the time, that would prevent her making the visit pleasant for you, and wish to postpone the invitation until she can entertain you as she wishes. to drive, trunks and all, in such a case, to your friend's house, without a word of warning, is unkind, as well as ill-bred. you force her to invite you to stay, when it may be inconvenient, and, even if she is really glad to see you, and wishes you to make a prolonged visit, you may feel certain she would have preferred to know you were coming. if she really loves you, her natural desire would be to have everything ready to give you a comfortable reception, and not have to leave you, perhaps with your traveling costume on, for an hour or two, while she prepares a room for you. it is not enough to say, at such a time, "don't mind me," or, "treat me as one of the family." however much her politeness or love may conceal annoyance, be sure, in her secret heart she _does_ mind you, and remember you are _not_ one of her private family. to take the liberty of going to the house of a mere acquaintance, for a night or two, while traveling, without invitation, is making a convenience of them, and wears the appearance of wishing to save the customary hotel-bill, so, while it is extremely ill-bred and impertinent, it is also excessively mean. in case of relationship, or long intimate friendship, an unexpected visit may be pardoned and give pleasure, but it is better to avoid it, as the pleasure will surely be increased if your relative or friend has time to prepare for your reception as her love will prompt, and arrange her duties and engagements to really enjoy your company. when you receive an invitation by letter to visit a friend, answer it immediately, thanking her for her proffered hospitality, and say decidedly then whether you can accept or decline. if you accept the invitation, state in your letter by what train, and at what hour you will arrive, that she may meet you, and let nothing but positive necessity keep you from being punctually at the time and place appointed. to linger by the way, for mere pleasure, and make her come several times to meet you, is unkind, as well as ill-bred. if you are unavoidably detained, write to her, state the reason that will prevent your keeping the appointment, and name another time when you can come. it is well in answering a letter of invitation, to state the limits of your visit, and then to keep them. if she is unwilling to let you go, and you are tempted to stay, that very fact promises well for the pleasure of a second visit. it is better to leave while all will regret you, than to linger on until you have worn out your welcome. inquire, as soon as possible after your arrival, what are the regular habits of the family; the hours for rising, for meals, and for retiring, and then be punctual in your attendance. many ladies are very ceremonious about waiting for a guest, and by delay in your room, or inattention to the time, when you are out, you will keep the whole family waiting. if you do not wake early enough for the usual breakfast hour, request the chambermaid to knock at your door in time for you to be ready to go down with the family. before you leave your room in the morning, take the clothes off your bed, throw the upper bed over the foot-board, and then open all the windows (unless it storms), that room and bed may be thoroughly aired before you sit there again. after breakfast, ask your hostess if you can be of any assistance to her in the household duties. if she declines your services, do not follow her from room to room whilst she is thus engaged, but take your work, books, or music to the sitting room or parlor, until your own room is ready for you. by thus proving that you can occupy yourself pleasantly, while she is away, you make it less annoying to her to feel the obligation to leave you. as soon as you see that she is ready to sew and chat, leave your book, or, if in your own room, come to the sitting room, where she is, and work with her. it is polite and kind, if you see that she has a large supply of family sewing, to offer to assist her, but if she positively declines your aid, then have some work of your own on hand, that you may sew with her. many pleasant mornings may be spent while visiting, by one lady reading aloud whilst the other sews, alternating the work. it is a pretty compliment to repay the hospitality of your hostess, by working whilst with her upon some piece of fancy work, a chair cover, sofa cushion, or pair of ottomans, presenting them to her when finished, as a keepsake. they will be duly appreciated, and remind her constantly of the pleasures of your visit. if you pass the morning out of the house, remember your time is hers, and have no engagement to interfere with the plans she has laid for entertaining you. observe this rule during your whole visit, and do not act independent of her plans. by constantly forming engagements without her knowledge, going out without her, or staying in when she has made some excursion or party for your pleasure, you insult her, by intimating that her house is no more to you than a hotel, to sleep and eat in, while your pleasures lie elsewhere. after dinner, retire for an hour to your own room, that your hostess may lie down if she is accustomed to do so. if the hours kept are later than you have been accustomed to, or if the gayety of the family keeps you out at party or opera, it is best to sleep after dinner, even if you do not always do it. to give signs of weariness in the evening will be excessively rude, implying want of enjoyment, and making your hostess feel hurt and annoyed. if you have shopping to do, find out where the best stores are, and then go to them alone, unless your hostess will accompany you upon similar business of her own. do not tax her good nature to go, merely for the sake of aiding you as guide. if one of the children in the family is familiar with the stores and streets, ask her to accompany you, and be careful to acknowledge the kindness by buying something especially for the child whilst she is out with you, if it is only some cakes or bonbons. choose an hour when you are certain your hostess has made no other engagement for you, or while she is busy in her domestic duties, for these shopping excursions. offer, when you are going, to attend to any shopping she may want, and ask if there is any commission you can execute for her while you are out. while on a visit to one friend, do not accept too many invitations from others, and avoid spending too much time in paying calls where your hostess is not acquainted. you owe the greater portion of your time and society to the lady whose hospitality you are accepting, and it is best to decline invitations from other houses, unless they inclose one for your hostess also. avoid paying any visits in a family not upon good terms with your hostess. if such a family are very dear friends of your own, or you can claim an acquaintance, pleasant upon both sides, with them, write, and state candidly the reason why you cannot visit them, and they will appreciate your delicacy. if, while on a visit to one friend, you receive an invitation to spend some time with another friend in the same place, accept it for the period which you have named as the termination of your first visit. you insult your hostess by shortening your visit to her to accept another invitation, and quite as much of an insult is it, to take the time from the first visit to go to pay another, and then return to your first hostess, unless such an arrangement has been made immediately upon your arrival. never invite any friend who may call upon you to stay to dinner or tea; you will be taking a most unwarrantable liberty in so doing. this is the right of your hostess, and if, by her silence, she tacitly declines extending this courtesy, you will be guilty of impertinence in usurping her privilege. never take any one who calls upon you into any room but the parlor, unless invited to do so by your hostess. you have, of course, the _entrée_ of other rooms, but you have no right to extend this privilege to others. if you have many gentlemen visiters, check too frequent calls, and make no appointments with them. if they show you any such attention as to offer to drive you to places of interest, or visit with you picture galleries or public places, always consult your hostess before accepting such civilities, and decline them if she has made other engagements for you. if you receive an invitation to visit any place of public amusement, decline it, unless one of the family with whom you are staying is also invited. in that case you may accept. if the gentleman who invites you is a stranger to the family, introduce him to your hostess, or mention her name in conversation. he will then, if he really desires you to accept his proffered attention, include her in the invitation. when visiting in a family where the members are in mourning, decline all invitations to parties or places of public amusement. it is an insult to them to leave them to join in pleasure from which their recent affliction excludes them. your visit at such a time will be prompted by sympathy in their trouble, and for the time it is thoughtful and delicate to make their sorrows yours. if sudden sickness or family trouble come to your friend whilst you are with her, _unless you can really be useful_, shorten your visit. in time of trouble families generally like to be alone, all in all to each other; and a visitor is felt a constant restraint. if death comes while you are with your friend, endeavor to take from her as much of the care as you can, a really sympathizing friend is an inexpressible comfort at such a time, as the trying details which must be taken in charge by some one, will be less trying to her than to a member of the family. do the necessary shopping for your friend, and relieve her of as much family care as you can. let her feel that you are really glad that you are near her in her affliction, and repay the hospitality she offered in her season of joy by showing her that her sorrow makes her still more dear, and that, while you can enjoy the gayety of her house, you will not flee from its mourning. when your presence can be of no further service, then leave her. put out your washing and ironing when on a visit. it is annoying and ill-bred to throw your soiled clothes into the family wash. take with you, from home, all the writing and sewing materials you may require while paying your visit. it is annoying to be constantly requested by a visitor to lend her scissors, pins, needles, or paper; no lady should be without her own portfolio and work-box. be very careful not to injure any article of furniture in your sleeping apartment, and if, unfortunately, anything suffers from your carelessness, have the accident repaired, or the article replaced, at your own expense. when your visit is over, give a present to each of the servants, varying its value, according to the length of your visit or the services you may have required. you will add to the pleasure by presenting such gifts yourself, with a few pleasant words. never compare the house you may be visiting with your own, or any other you may visit. avoid also speaking of any house where you may have been a guest in terms of overpraise, giving glowing pictures of its splendor. your hostess may imagine you are drawing comparisons unfavorable to your present residence. also avoid speaking unfavorably of any former visit, as your hostess will naturally conclude that her turn for censure will come as soon as your visit is over. if any family secret comes to your knowledge while you are on a visit in that family, remember the hospitality extended to you binds you to the most inviolable secrecy. it is mean, contemptible, rude, and ill-bred to make your entertainers regret their hospitality by betraying any such confidence; for it is as sacred a confidence as if you were bound over to silence in the most solemn manner. after paying a visit, you should write to your hostess as soon as you reach home again; thank her in this letter for her hospitality, speak warmly of the enjoyment you have had in your recent visit, and mention by name every member of the family, desiring to be remembered to all. chapter ix. morning receptions or calls. etiquette for the hostess. if your circle of visiting acquaintance is very large, while at the same time your time is fully occupied, or your home duties make it inconvenient to dress every morning to receive visitors, it is a good plan to set aside one morning in the week for a reception day. upon your own visiting cards, below the name, put the day when it will be proper to return the visit, thus: mrs. james hunter. at home wednesdays. _no. c---- st._ your friends will, unless there is some especial reason for a call in the interval, pay their visit upon the day named. let nothing, but the most imperative duty, call you out upon your reception day. your callers are, in a measure, invited guests, and it will be an insulting mark of rudeness to be out when they call. neither can you be excused, except in case of sickness. having appointed the day when you will be at home to see your friends, you must, for that day, prepare to give your time wholly to them. the usual hours for morning receptions are from twelve to three, and you should be dressed, and ready for callers, at least half an hour before that time. to come in, flushed from a hurried toilette, to meet your first callers, is unbecoming as well as rude. your dress should be handsome, but not showy. a silk or cashmere wrapper, richly trimmed, over an embroidered skirt, with a pretty cap, or the hair neatly arranged without head-dress, is a becoming and appropriate dress. still better is a rich but plain silk, made high in the neck, with long sleeves. wear a handsomely embroidered, or lace collar, and sleeves, and a rather dressy cap, or, still better, the hair alone, prettily arranged. as each visitor arrives, rise, and advance part of the way to meet her. if gentlemen, rise, but do not advance. it is not customary now to introduce callers at these morning receptions, though you can do so with perfect propriety where you know such an introduction will be agreeable to both parties. in introducing a gentleman to a lady, address her first, as-- "miss jones, permit me to introduce mr. lee;" and, when introducing a young lady to a matron, you introduce the younger one to the elder, as-- "mrs. green, allow me to introduce to you my friend, miss brown." in introducing strangers in the city it is well to name the place of their residence, as--mr. james of germany, or, mr. brown of new york, or, if they have recently returned from abroad, it is well to say so, as, mr. lee, lately from india; this is useful in starting conversation. be careful, when introducing your friends, to pronounce the name of each one clearly and distinctly, that there may be no mistake or necessity for repetition. it is a good plan, if your receptions are usually largely attended, to have books and pictures on the centre table, and scattered about your parlors. you must, of course, converse with each caller, but many will remain in the room for a long time, and these trifles are excellent pastime, and serve as subjects for conversation. it requires much tact to know when to introduce friends, when to take refuge under the shield fashion offers, and not make them acquainted with each other. it is a positive cruelty to force a talented, witty person, to converse with one who is ignorant and dull, as they will, of course, be obliged to do, if introduced. a well-bred lady, who is receiving several visitors at a time, pays equal attention to all, and attempts, as much as possible, to generalize the conversation, turning to all in succession. the last arrival, however, receives a little more attention at first, than the others. if it is not agreeable to you to set aside a day for the especial reception of callers, and you have a large circle of acquaintances, be ready to receive them each day that you are at home. if you are engaged, let the servant say so when she opens the door, and do not send down that message after your friend has been admitted. if she is told when she arrives that you are engaged, she will understand that you are denied to _all_ callers, but if that message comes after she has sent up her card, she may draw the inference that you will not see _her_, though you may see other friends. never keep a caller waiting whilst you make an elaborate toilette. if you are not ready for visitors, it is best to enter the parlor in your wrapper, apologizing for it, than to keep your friend waiting whilst you change your dress. if a stranger calls, bringing a letter of introduction, and sends the letter, you may read it before going down stairs, but if they wait till you are in the parlor before presenting the letter, merely glance at the signature and at the name of your caller; do not read the letter through, unless it is very short, or you are requested by the bearer to do so. if you have a friend staying with you, invite her to join you in the parlor when you have callers, and introduce her to your friends. if you wish to invite a caller to stay to luncheon or dinner, give the invitation as soon as you have exchanged greetings, not after she has been seated for some time. in the latter case it appears like an after thought, not, as in the former, as if from a real desire to have the pleasure of her company. if you have but one caller at a time, rise when she does, and accompany her to the vestibule; but, if there are several in the room, rise when each one does, but only accompany them to the parlor door; there take leave of them, and return to those who still remain seated. if, after affliction, your friends call before you are able to see them, do not fear to give offence by declining to receive them. they will respect your sorrow, and the call is made more to show their sympathy than from a desire to converse with you. visits of condolence, paid between the death of one of your family and the day of the funeral, you may always excuse yourself from, with perfect propriety. they are made in kindness, and show interest, but if you decline seeing such callers, there is no offence given. in parting from a gentleman caller, rise when he does, and remain standing until he leaves the room, but do not go towards the door. when a gentleman calls in the morning he will not remove his outside coat, and will hold his hat in his hand. never offer to take the latter, and do not invite him to remove his coat. take no notice of either one or the other. if strangers in the city call upon you, enquire at what hotel they are staying, and how long they will be there, that you may return their call before they leave town. chapter x. morning receptions or calls. etiquette for the caller. the usual hours for paying morning calls are between eleven and two, or twelve and three, and all calls of ceremony should be made between these hours. never, in paying a ceremonious call, stay more than twenty minutes, or less than ten. if your hostess has several other visitors at the same time that you are in her parlor, make your visit short, that she may have more attention to bestow upon others. after you have received an invitation to a party, call within a week or fortnight after the evening, whether you have accepted or declined the invitation. if you have declined on account of mourning, the excuse extends also to the call. when the servant answers your ring, hand in your card. if your friend is out or engaged, leave the card, and if she is in, send it up. never call without cards. you may offend your friend, as she may never hear of your call, if she is out at the time, and you trust to the memory of the servant. if your friend is at home, after sending your card up to her by the servant, go into the parlor to wait for her. sit down quietly, and do not leave your seat until you rise to meet her as she enters the room. to walk about the parlor, examining the ornaments and pictures, is ill-bred. it is still more unlady-like to sit down and turn over to read the cards in her card basket. if she keeps you waiting for a long time, you may take a book from the centre-table to pass away the interval. never, while waiting in a friend's parlor, go to the piano and play till she comes. this is a breach of good-breeding often committed, and nothing can be more ill-bred. you may be disturbing an invalid unawares, or you may prevent your friend, if she has children, from coming down stairs at all, by waking the baby. if you are a stranger in the city, and bring a letter of introduction to your hostess, send this letter up stairs with your card, that she may read it, and know how to welcome you when she comes down stairs. in this case, write upon the card the name of the hotel at which you are staying, and mention in the course of conversation, how long you will be in the city. if you have a visitor, and desire to introduce her to your friends, you may invite her to accompany you when paying calls. in making a call for condolence, it is sufficient to leave a card with your enquiries for the health of your friend, and offers of service. the same if calling upon invalids, if they are too ill to see you. in visits of congratulation, go in, and be hearty in your expressions of interest and sympathy. pay visits, both of condolence and congratulation, within a week after the event which calls for them occurs. it is proper, when you have already made your call of the usual length, and another caller is announced, to rise and leave, not immediately, as if you shunned the new arrival, but after a moment or two. never out-sit two or three parties of visitors, unless you have private business with your hostess which cannot be postponed. many denounce the system of morning calls as silly, frivolous, and a waste of time. they are wrong. it may be carried to an excess, and so admit of these objections, but in moderation the custom is a good and pleasant one. you have then an opportunity of making friends of mere acquaintances, and you can, in a pleasant chat with a friend at home, have more real enjoyment in her society than in a dozen meetings in large companies, with all the formality and restraint of a party thrown around you. there are many subjects of conversation which are pleasant in a parlor, tête-à-tête with a friend, which you would not care to discuss in a crowded saloon, or in the street. personal inquiries, private affairs can be cosily chatted over. in paying your visits of condolence, show, by your own quiet gravity, that you sympathize in the recent affliction of your friend. though you may endeavor to comfort and cheer her, you must avoid a gay or careless air, as it will be an insult at such a time. avoid any allusion to the past that may be trying for her to hear or answer, yet do not ignore the subject entirely, as that appears like a want of interest in it. though you may feel happy, avoid parading your own joyousness at such a time; whatever your own feeling may be, respect the sorrow of another. never sit gazing curiously around the room when paying a call, as if taking a mental inventory of the furniture. it is excessively rude. it is still worse to appear to notice any disorder or irregularity that may occur. if, while paying a call, you perceive that any unforeseen matter in the family, calls for the attention of the lady of the house, leave instantly, no matter how short your call has been. your friend may not appear to notice the screams of a child, a noise in the kitchen, or the cry from the nursery that the fire board has caught fire, but you may be sure she does hear it, and though too well-bred to speak of it, will heartily rejoice to say good-bye. do not take a child with you to pay calls, until it is old enough to behave quietly and with propriety. to have a troublesome child constantly touching the parlor ornaments, balancing itself on the back of a chair, leaning from a window, or performing any of the thousand tricks in which children excel, is an annoyance, both to yourself and your hostess. make no remark upon the temperature of the room, or its arrangement, when you enter it. never open or shut a window or door without asking permission, and unless really suffering from excessive heat or cold, refrain from asking leave to take this liberty. if you are invited to go up stairs to your friend's private apartment, you will, of course, accept the invitation, but never go up stairs uninvited. when you reach her door, if the servant has not preceded and announced you, knock, and await her invitation to enter. then, once in, take no notice of the room, but go instantly to your friend. if she is sewing, do not speak of the nature of her work, but request her to continue, as if you were not present. in cases of long standing friendship, you will not, of course, stand upon the ceremony of waiting for each and every one of your calls to be returned before paying another, but be careful that you are not too lavish of your visits. the most cordial welcome may be worn threadbare, if it is called into use _too_ often. if you are visiting an invalid, or one confined by physical infirmity to one apartment, while you are cheerful and ready to impart all the news that will interest them, do not, by too glowing descriptions of out-door pleasures, make them feel more keenly their own deprivations. it is well, when making such calls, to converse upon literature, or such general subjects as will not remind them of their misfortune. in cases where, from long illness or other infirmity, a gentleman friend is confined entirely to his room, you may, with perfect propriety, call upon him. it is both polite and kind to do so, as otherwise he would be deprived entirely of the society of his lady friends. many thus unfortunately situated, from study and reading while so shut out from the world, become the most delightful companions. if, when you make a call, you unfortunately intrude upon an early dinner hour, do not go in, but leave your card, and say that you will call again. if you call upon two ladies who are boarding at the same house, do not send up your card to both at the same time. if one is out, send a card to her room, and then send up for the other. if the first one is in, wait till she comes down, and then chat as long as a call usually lasts. when you rise as if to take leave, accompany your friend to the parlor door, then tell her that you are going to send up for your other friend. she will bid you good-morning, and go to her own room; ring the bell after she leaves you, and send your card by the waiter to your other friend. in calling at a hotel, enter by the ladies' door, and send your card to the room of your friend by the waiter. it is well, if you are calling upon an entire stranger, to choose a seat, and tell the waiter to say to the lady exactly where she will find you. she will probably enter with your card in her hand; then rise, greet her by name, and introduce yourself. if you speak to another stranger upon the same errand as the one you expect, the error will be instantly perceived by the difference in name. if a stranger, bringing a letter of introduction, sends the letter with her card, instead of calling, courtesy requires you to make the first call, immediately; the same day that you receive the letter, if possible, if not, the day after. chapter xi. dinner company. etiquette for the hostess. in issuing invitations for a large dinner party, the usual form is-- _mr. and mrs. g---- request the favor of mr. and mrs. l----'s company to dinner, on wednesday, march th, at ---- o'clock._ if your husband is giving a party to gentlemen only, he will have a card printed or written for the occasion, but your duties as hostess, if he wishes you to preside, will still be as arduous as if your own friends were included in the invitation. the directions given in the chapter on "evening parties" for the arrangement of the parlor and the dressing-rooms, will apply here equally well, but the dining-room (in this case the centre of attraction) requires still more careful attention. any fault here will mar your own comfort and the pleasure of your guests, and must be carefully avoided. send out your invitations by a servant, or man hired for the purpose; do not trust them to despatch or penny post. be careful in selecting the guests for a dinner party. remember that conversation will be the sole entertainment for several hours, and if your guests are not well chosen, your dinner, no matter how perfect or costly the viands, will prove a failure. the most agreeable dinners are those whose numbers will allow all the guests to join in a common conversation, and where the host has spirit and intelligence to take the lead, and start a new subject when the interest in the old one begins to flag. dinners where the guests depend entirely upon the person next them for conversation, are apt to be stupid, as it requires marvelous tact to pair off all the couples, so that every one will be entertaining in tête-à-tête conversation. to give a good dinner, your means, room, and establishment must all be taken into consideration when you are preparing for a dinner company. if you invite a large number, you must increase your establishment for the occasion, as to sit down to a dinner badly served, with a scarcity of waiters, is tiresome, and shows little tact or grace on the part of the hostess. one cook cannot prepare dinner properly for more than ten persons, and three waiters will find ample employment in waiting upon the same number. more than this number will require a table too large for general, easy conversation, and throw your company into couples or trios, for entertainment. have your table spread in a room that will accommodate all the guests comfortably, at the same time avoid putting a small social party in a large room, where they will appear lost in the space around them. let the room be comfortably warmed, and if your dinner is late, have the apartments well lighted. if you sit down by daylight, but will remain in the room until after dark, have the shutters closed and the lights lit, before the dinner is announced, as nothing can be more awkward than to do this in the middle of the meal. the shape of a table is a point of more importance than some people think. if you wish your dinner to be social--not a mere collection of tête-à-têtes--the table should be of a shape which will make it easy for each guest to address any one at the table. the long parallelogram, with the host at one end and the hostess at the other, is stiff, too broad, too long, and isolates the givers of the feast from the guests. the round table, if large enough to accommodate many guests, has too large a diameter each way for easy conversation. the best table is the oval, and the host and hostess should sit in the middle of each side, facing each other. the dining room, even in the heat of summer, should be carpeted, to deaden the noise of the servants' feet. the chairs should be easy, without arms, and with tall, slanting backs. it adds much to the comfort, if each person is provided with a foot-stool. you must have, besides the waiters, one servant to carve, and he must be an adept. no dish should be carved upon the table, and that no guest shall wait too long for his meat, you must engage a rapid and dexterous carver. for a party of ten, two waiters, and the carver, are amply sufficient. if you have too many servants, they will only interfere with each other, and stand staring at the guests. give your orders before dinner, and through the meal never speak to the servants. your whole attention must be given to the guests. even if you see that matters are going wrong, do not let your annoyance appear, but gracefully ignore the painful facts. let each servant have his regular position at the table. one should take the guests at the right of the hostess, and the left of the host; the other the guests on the other side. they should wear light, noiseless shoes, and white gloves, and each one carry a folded napkin over his right arm. the main point in the arrangement of the table itself, is to secure beauty, without interfering with conversation. the table cover and napkins must be of snowy damask, the glass clear as crystal, and taste must preside over each detail. let nothing high be placed on the table, that will effectually separate the guests from each other. there should be, first, a handsome centre piece, and this may be of glass, silver, or china, and not too high or large, and must be elegant as a work of art, or it is better omitted altogether. preserve or fruit stands, tastefully decorated, with the fruit on fresh, green leaves, and flowers mingled with them, form exquisite centre pieces. a pyramid of flowers, or tasty vase or basket, forms, too, a beautiful ornament for the centre of the table. in addition to this, the french scatter vases of flowers all over the table, at the corners and in the centre. some place a small, fragrant bouquet before the plate of each guest. nothing can be more beautiful than this arrangement. glasses of celery, dishes of clear, transparent jellies or preserves, exquisite little glass plates of pickles should stand in order on the table. place before each guest, the plate, knife, fork, spoon, four wine-glasses of various sizes, the goblet for water, napkin, small salt cellar, salt spoon, and roll of bread. place none of the meats or vegetables upon the large table. these should all be served at a side-table, each guest selecting his own, to be handed by the servants. the first course is soup. as this is not meant to destroy the appetite for other viands, it should be light, not too rich or thick. let the servant hand one ladlefull to each person. if you have more than one kind, he must first inquire which each guest prefers. if you have wines, let them be handed round after the soup. next comes the fish. if you have large fish, let a slice, cut smoothly, not made into a hash by awkward carving, be placed upon the plate of the guest, with a slice of egg, and drawn butter. if the fish are small, one should be placed upon each plate. then come the patties of oysters, minced veal, or lobster; or, instead of these, you may have poultry or game. next the roast. with the meats have vegetables served on a separate plate, that the guest may take as much as he wishes with meat. you will, of course, have a variety of vegetables, but scarcely any guest will choose more than two. the pastry and puddings come next in order, and these, too, are better served from a side table. between the pastry and the dessert, have salad and cheese placed before each guest. if you eat dessert in the same room that you dine in, it should be placed upon the table (with the exception of the ices) before the guests are seated, and this comes after the pastry has been discussed. it should consist of fruit and ices. a pleasanter and more elegant way, is to have the fruit and ices spread in a separate room, and leave the dining room after the pastry has been eaten. the change of position, the absence of the meat flavor in the atmosphere, make the dessert much more delightful than if it is eaten in the same room as the dinner. in summer especially, the change to a cool, fresh room, where the ices and fruits are tastefully spread, and flowers are scattered profusely about the room, delights every sense. coffee follows the dessert, and when this enters, if your guests are gentlemen only, your duty is at an end. you may then rise, leave the room, and need not re-appear. if you have lady guests, you give the signal for rising after coffee, and lead the way to the parlor, where, in a few moments, the gentlemen will again join you. suppose your guests invited, servants instructed, every arrangement made, and the important day arrived. the next point to consider is the reception of your guests. be dressed in good season, as many seem to consider an invitation to dinner as one to pass the day, and come early. take a position in your drawing-room, where each guest will find you easily, and remain near it, until every guest has arrived. as each one enters, advance to meet him, and extend your hand. have plenty of chairs ready in the drawing-room, as an invitation to dinner by no means argues a "stand up" party. as you have already arranged every detail, your duty as hostess consists in receiving your guests gracefully, conversing and looking as charmingly as possible. flowers in the drawing-room are as great a proof of taste as in the dining room. as the time just before dinner is very apt to be tiresome, you should bring forward all the armor against stupidity that you possess. display upon tables arranged conveniently about the room, curiosities, handsome books, photographs, engravings, stereoscopes, medallions, any works of art you may own, and have the ottomans, sofas, and chairs so placed that your guests can move easily about the room, or rooms. the severest test of good breeding in a lady, is in the position of hostess, receiving dinner guests. your guests may arrive all at once, yet you must make each one feel that he or she is the object of your individual attention, and none must be hurt by neglect. they may arrive very early, yet your duty is to make the time fly until dinner is announced. they may come late, and risk the ruin of your choicest dishes, yet you must not, upon pain of a breach of etiquette, show the least annoyance. if you know that the whole kitchen is in arms at the delay, you must conceal the anguish, as the spartan boy did his pangs, to turn a cheerful, smiling face upon the tardy guests. when dinner is announced, you will lead the way to the dining-room upon the arm of one of your gentlemen guests, having paired off the company in couples. the host comes in last with a lady upon his arm. you may indicate to each couple, as they enter the dining-room, the seats they are to occupy, standing until all are seated, or you may allow them to choose their own places. the english fashion of placing a card upon each plate with the name of the person to take that seat upon it, is a good one. it enables the hostess to place those whom she is certain will be mutually entertaining, next each other. place the gentleman who escorts you from the parlor at your right hand. having once taken your seat at table, you have nothing to do with the dinner but to partake of it. not a word, or even a glance, will a well-bred hostess bestow upon the servants, nor will she speak to the guests of the dishes. their choice rests between themselves and the waiters, and you must take no notice of what they eat, how much, or how little. nay, should they partake of one dish only, you must ignore the fact. the greatest tact is displayed where the hostess makes each guest feel perfectly at ease. she will aid her husband both in leading and supporting the conversation, and will see that no guest is left in silence from want of attention. whilst she ignores every breach of etiquette her guests may commit, she must carefully observe every rule herself, and this she must do in an easy, natural manner, avoiding every appearance of restraint. her deportment, she may be sure, is secretly watched and criticised by each guest, yet she must appear utterly unconscious that she is occupying any conspicuous position. to watch the servants, or appear uneasy, lest something should go wrong, is excessively ill-bred, and if any accident does occur, you only make it worse by noticing it. to reprove or speak sharply to a servant before your guests, manifests a shocking want of good breeding. the rules given above are only applicable to large dinner parties, and where the guests are few, and the host himself carves, these rules will not apply. in this case, as you will only require the services of your own household domestics, you must, of course, attend personally to the wants of your guests. dinner not being served from a side table, you must, while putting tasteful ornaments upon it, be careful not to crowd them, and leave room for the substantial dishes. you must watch the plate of each guest, to see that it is well provided, and you will invite each one to partake of the various dishes. have a servant to pass the plates from you to each guest, and from the host to you, after he has put the meat upon them, that you may add gravy and vegetables before they are set before your visitors. at these smaller dinner companies, avoid apologizing for anything, either in the viands or the arrangement of them. you have provided the best your purse will allow, prepared as faultlessly as possible; you will only gain credit for mock modesty if you apologize for a well-prepared, well-spread dinner, and if there are faults they will only be made more conspicuous if attention is drawn to them by an apology. ease of manner, quiet dignity, cheerful, intelligent conversation, and gentle, lady-like deportment, never appear more charming than when they adorn a lady at the head of her own table. chapter xii. dinner company. etiquette for the guest. when you receive an invitation to join a dinner-party, answer it immediately, as, by leaving your hostess in doubt whether you intend to accept or decline her hospitality, you make it impossible for her to decide how many she must prepare for. if you accept at first, and any unforeseen event keeps you from fulfilling your engagement, write a second note, that your hostess may not wait dinner for you. such a note, if circumstances render it necessary to write it, may be sent with perfect propriety an hour before the time appointed for dinner, though, if you are aware that you cannot attend, earlier, you must send the information in good season. you should enter the house of your hostess from a quarter to half an hour earlier than the time appointed for dining. proceed at once to the dressing-room, and arrange your dress and hair, and then enter the drawing-room. by going to the house too early, you may hasten or interrupt the toilet arrangements of your hostess; while, by being late, you will establish a most disagreeable association in the minds of all present, as "the lady who kept dinner waiting at mrs. l----'s." immediately upon entering the parlor find your hostess, and speak to her first. it is very rude to stop to chat with other guests before greeting the lady of the house. you may bow to any one you know, in passing, but do not stop to speak. having exchanged a few words with your hostess, turn to the other guests, unless you are the first arrival. in that case, converse with your host and hostess until others come in. be careful, if dinner is delayed by the tardiness of the guests, or from any other cause, that you do not show by your manner that you are aware of such delay. to look towards the door often, consult your watch, or give tokens of weariness, are all marks of ill-breeding. your hostess will probably be sufficiently annoyed by the irregularity itself; do not add to her discomfort by allowing her to suppose that her guests perceive the deficiencies. look over the books and pictures with an air of interest, converse cheerfully, and in every way appear as if dinner were a matter of secondary importance, (as, indeed, it should be,) compared with the pleasure of the society around you. when the signal for dinner is given, your hostess will probably name your escort to the table. if he is a stranger, bow in acknowledgement of the introduction, take his arm, and fall into your place in the stream of guests passing from the parlor to the dining-room. take the seat pointed out by your hostess, or the waiter, as soon as it is offered. each one will do this upon entering, and it prevents the confusion that will result if those first entering the room, remain standing until all the other guests come in. when you take your seat, be careful that your chair does not stand upon the dress of the lady next you, as she may not rise at the same instant that you do, and so you risk tearing her dress. sit gracefully at the table; neither so close as to make your movements awkward, nor so far away as to drag your food over your dress before it reaches your mouth. it is well to carry in your pocket a small pincushion, and, having unfolded your napkin, to pin it at the belt. you may do this quietly, without its being perceived, and you will thus really save your dress. if the napkin is merely laid open upon your lap, it will be very apt to slip down, if your dress is of silk or satin, and you risk the chance of appearing again in the drawing-room with the front of your dress soiled or greased. if, by the carelessness or awkwardness of your neighbors or the servants, you have a plate of soup, glass of wine, or any dish intended for your mouth, deposited upon your dress, do not spring up, or make any exclamation. you may wipe off the worst of the spot with your napkin, and then let it pass without further notice. if an apology is made by the unlucky perpetrator of the accident, try to set him at his ease by your own lady-like composure. he will feel sorry and awkward enough, without reproach, sullenness, or cold looks from you. gloves and mittens are no longer worn at table, even at the largest dinner-parties. to make remarks upon the guests or the dishes is excessively rude. if the conversation is general, speak loudly enough to be heard by those around you, but, at the same time, avoid raising your voice _too_ much. if the company is very large, and you converse only with the person immediately beside you, speak in a distinct, but low tone, that you may not interrupt other couples, but carefully avoid whispering or a confidential air. both are in excessively bad taste. to laugh in a suppressed way, has the appearance of laughing at those around you, and a loud, boisterous laugh is always unlady-like. converse cheerfully, laugh quietly, but freely, if you will, and while you confine your attention entirely to your neighbor, still avoid any air of secrecy or mystery. never use an eye-glass, either to look at the persons around you or the articles upon the table. eat your soup quietly. to make any noise in eating it, is simply disgusting. do not break bread into your soup. break off small pieces and put into your mouth, if you will, but neither bite it from the roll nor break it up, and eat it from your soup-plate with a spoon. in eating bread with meat, never dip it into the gravy on your plate, and then bite the end off. if you wish to eat it with gravy, break off a small piece, put it upon your plate, and then, with a fork, convey it to your mouth. when helped to fish, remove, with knife and fork, all the bones, then lay down the knife, and, with a piece of bread in your left hand and a fork in your right, eat the flakes of fish. need i say that the knife is to cut your food with, and must never be used while eating? to put it in your mouth is a distinctive mark of low-breeding. if you have selected what you will eat, keep the plate that is placed before you; never pass it to the persons next you, as they may have an entirely different choice of meat or vegetables. never attempt to touch any dish that is upon the table, but out of your reach, by stretching out your arms, leaning forward, or, still worse, standing up. ask the waiter to hand it, if you wish for it; or, if the gentleman beside you can easily do so, you may ask him to pass it to you. do not press those near you to take more or other things than are upon their plate. this is the duty of the hostess, or, if the company is large, the servants will attend to it. for you to do so is officious and ill-bred. when conversing let your knife and fork rest easily upon your plate, even if still in your hand. avoid holding them upright. keep your own knife, fork, and spoon solely for the articles upon your own plate. to use them for helping yourself to butter or salt, is rude in the extreme. when you do not use the salt-spoon, sugar tongs, and butter-knife, you may be sure that those around you will conclude that you have never seen the articles, and do not know their use. you need not fear to offend by refusing to take wine with a gentleman, even your host. if you decline gracefully, he will appreciate the delicacy which makes you refuse. if, however, you have no conscientious scruples, and are invited to take wine, bow, and merely raise the glass to your lips, then set it down again. you may thus acknowledge the courtesy, and yet avoid actually drinking the wine. no lady should drink wine at dinner. even if her head is strong enough to bear it, she will find her cheeks, soon after the indulgence, flushed, hot, and uncomfortable; and if the room is warm, and the dinner a long one, she will probably pay the penalty of her folly, by having a headache all the evening. if offered any dish of which you do not wish to partake, decline it, but do not assign any reason. to object to the dish itself is an insult to your entertainers, and if you assert any reason for your own dislike it is ill-bred. do not bend too much forward over your food, and converse easily. to eat fast, or appear to be so much engrossed as to be unable to converse, is ill-bred; and it makes those around you suspect that you are so little accustomed to dining well, that you fear to stop eating an instant, lest you should not get enough. it is equally ill-bred to accept every thing that is offered to you. never take more than two vegetables; do not take a second plate of soup, pastry, or pudding. indeed, it is best to accept but _one_ plate of any article. never use a spoon for anything but liquids, and never touch anything to eat, excepting bread, celery, or fruit, with your fingers. in the intervals which must occur between the courses, do not appear to be conscious of the lapse of time. wear a careless air when waiting, conversing cheerfully and pleasantly, and avoid looking round the room, as if wondering what the waiters are about. never eat every morsel that is upon your plate; and surely no lady will ever scrape her plate, or pass the bread round it, as if to save the servants the trouble of washing it. take such small mouthfulls that you can always be ready for conversation, but avoid playing with your food, or partaking of it with an affectation of delicate appetite. your hostess may suppose you despise her fare, if you appear so very choice, or eat too sparingly. if your state of health deprives you of appetite, it is bad enough for you to decline the invitation to dine out. never examine minutely the food before you. you insult your hostess by such a proceeding, as it looks as if you feared to find something upon the plate that should not be there. if you find a worm on opening a nut, or in any of the fruit, hand your plate quietly, and without remark, to the waiter, and request him to bring you a clean one. do not let others perceive the movement, or the cause of it, if you can avoid so doing. never make a noise in eating. to munch or smack the lips are vulgar faults. sit quietly at table, avoid stiffness, but, at the same time, be careful that you do not annoy others by your restlessness. do not eat so fast as to be done long before others, nor so slowly as to keep them waiting. when the finger-glasses are passed round, dip the ends of your fingers into them, and wipe them upon your napkin; then do not fold your napkin, but place it beside your plate upon the table. to carry away fruit or bonbons from the table is a sign of low breeding. rise with the other ladies when your hostess gives the signal. after returning to the parlor, remain in the house at least an hour after dinner is over. if you have another engagement in the evening, you may then take your leave, but not before. you will insult your hostess by leaving sooner, as it appears that you came only for the dinner, and that being over, your interest in the house, for the time, has ceased. it is only beggars who "eat and run!" chapter xiii. table etiquette. in order to appear perfectly well-bred at table when in company, or in public, as at a hotel, you must pay attention, three times a day, to the points of table etiquette. if you neglect these little details at home and in private, they will be performed awkwardly and with an air of restraint when you are in company. by making them habitual, they will become natural, and appear easily, and sit gracefully upon you. even when eating entirely alone, observe these little details, thus making the most finished and elegant manners perfectly familiar, and thus avoiding the stiff, awkward air you will wear if you keep your politeness only for company, when you will be constantly apprehensive of doing wrong. at breakfast or tea, if your seat is at the head of the table, you must, before taking anything upon your own plate, fill a cup for each one of the family, and pass them round, being careful to suit each one in the preparation of the cup, that none may return to you for more tea, water, sugar, or milk. if you have a visitor, pass the cup with the tea or coffee alone in it, and hand with the cup the sugar bowl and cream pitcher, that these may be added in the quantity preferred. after all the cups have been filled and passed round, you may take the bread, butter, and other food upon your own plate. train your children, so that they will pass these things to you as soon as they see you are ready to receive them. if you are yourself at the side of the table, pass the bread, butter, etc., to the lady at the head, when you see that she has sent the cups from the waiter before her, to those seated at the table. if you occupy the place of head of the table, you must watch the cups, offer to fill them when empty, and also see that each one of the family is well helped to the other articles upon the table. avoid making any noise in eating, even if each meal is eaten in solitary state. it is a disgusting habit, and one not easily cured if once contracted, to make any noise with the lips when eating. never put large pieces of food into your mouth. eat slowly, and cut your food into small pieces before putting it into your mouth. use your fork, or spoon, never your knife, to put your food into your mouth. at dinner, hold in your left hand a piece of bread, and raise your meat or vegetables with the fork, holding the bread to prevent the pieces slipping from the plate. if you are asked at table what part of the meat you prefer, name your favorite piece, but do not give such information unless asked to do so. to point out any especial part of a dish, and ask for it, is ill-bred. to answer, when asked to select a part, that "it is a matter of indifference," or, "i can eat any part," is annoying to the carver, as he cares less than yourself certainly, and would prefer to give you the piece you really like best. do not pour coffee or tea from your cup into your saucer, and do not blow either these or soup. wait until they cool. use the butter-knife, salt-spoon, and sugar-tongs as scrupulously when alone, as if a room full of people were watching you. otherwise, you may neglect to do so when the omission will mortify you. never put poultry or fish bones, or the stones of fruit, upon the table-cloth, but place them on the edge of your plate. do not begin to eat until others at the table are ready to commence too. sit easily in your chair, neither too near the table, nor too far from it, and avoid such tricks as putting your arms on the table, leaning back lazily in your chair, or playing with your knife, fork, or spoon. never raise your voice, when speaking, any higher than is necessary. the clear articulation and distinct pronunciation of each word, will make a low tone more agreeable and more easily understood, than the loudest tone, if the speech is rapid or indistinct. never pass your plate with the knife or fork upon it, and when you pass your cup, put the spoon in the saucer. never pile up the food on your plate. it looks as if you feared it would all be gone before you could be helped again, and it will certainly make your attempts to cut the food awkward, if your plate is crowded. if there is a delicacy upon the table, partake of it sparingly, and never help yourself to it a second time. if you wish to cough, or use your handkerchief, rise from the table, and leave the room. if you have not time to do this, cover your mouth, and turn your head aside from the table, and perform the disagreeable necessity as rapidly and quietly as possible. avoid gesticulation at the table. indeed, a well-bred lady will never gesticulate, but converse quietly, letting the expression and animation of her features give force to her words. never, when at the home table, leave it until the other members of the family are also ready to rise. chapter xiv. conduct in the street. a lady's conduct is never so entirely at the mercy of critics, because never so public, as when she is in the street. her dress, carriage, walk, will all be exposed to notice; every passer-by will look at her, if it is only for one glance; every unlady-like action will be marked; and in no position will a dignified, lady-like deportment be more certain to command respect. let me start with you upon your promenade, my friend, and i will soon decide your place upon the list of well-bred ladies. first, your dress. not that scarlet shawl, with a green dress, i beg, and--oh! spare my nerves!--you are not so insane as to put on a blue bonnet. that's right. if you wish to wear the green dress, don a black shawl, and--that white bonnet will do very well. one rule you must lay down with regard to a walking dress. it must never be conspicuous. let the material be rich, if you will; the set of each garment faultless; have collar and sleeves snowy white, and wear neatly-fitting, whole, clean gloves and boots. every detail may be scrupulously attended to, but let the whole effect be quiet and modest. wear a little of one bright color, if you will, but not more than one. let each part of the dress harmonize with all the rest; avoid the _extreme_ of fashion, and let the dress suit _you_. if you are short and plump, do not wear flounces, because they are fashionable, and avoid large plaids, even if they are the very latest style. if tall and slight, do not add to the length of your figure by long stripes, a little mantilla, and a caricature of a bonnet, with long, streaming ribbons. a large, round face will never look well, staring from a tiny, delicate bonnet; nor will a long, thin one stand the test much better. wear what is becoming to _yourself_, and only bow to fashion enough to avoid eccentricity. to have everything in the _extreme_ of fashion, is a sure mark of vulgarity. wear no jewelry in the street excepting your watch and brooch. jewelry is only suited for full evening dress, when all the other details unite to set it off. if it is real, it is too valuable to risk losing in the street, and if it is _not_ real, no lady should wear it. mock jewelry is utterly detestable. what are you doing? sucking the head of your parasol! have you not breakfasted? take that piece of ivory from your mouth! to suck it is unlady-like, and let me tell you, excessively unbecoming. rosy lips and pearly teeth can be put to a better use. why did you not dress before you came out? it is a mark of ill-breeding to draw your gloves on in the street. now your bonnet-strings, and now--your collar! pray arrange your dress before you leave the house! nothing looks worse than to see a lady fussing over her dress in the street. take a few moments more in your dressing-room, and so arrange your dress that you will not need to think of it again whilst you are out. do not walk so fast! you are not chasing anybody! walk slowly, gracefully! oh, do not drag one foot after the other as if you were fast asleep--set down the foot lightly, but at the same time firmly; now, carry your head up, not so; you hang it down as if you feared to look any one in the face! nay, that is the other extreme! now you look like a drill-major, on parade! so! that is the medium. erect, yet, at the same time, easy and elegant. now, my friend, do not swing your arms. you don't know what to do with them? your parasol takes one hand; hold your dress up a little with the other. not so! no lady should raise her dress above the ankle. take care! don't drag your dress through that mud-puddle! worse and worse! if you take hold of your dress on both sides, in that way, and drag it up so high, you will be set down as a raw country girl. so. raise it just above the boot, all round, easily, letting it fall again in the old folds. don't shake it down; it will fall back of itself. stop! don't you see there is a carriage coming? do you want to be thrown down by the horses? you can run across? very lady-like indeed! surely nothing can be more ungraceful than to see a lady shuffle and run across a street. wait until the way is clear and then walk slowly across. do not try to raise your skirts. it is better to soil them. (you were very foolish to wear white skirts this muddy day.) _they_ are easily washed, and you cannot raise _all_. you will surely be awkward in making the attempt, and probably fail, in spite of your efforts. true, they will be badly soiled, and you expose this when you raise the dress, but the state of the streets must be seen by all who see your share of the dirt, and they will apologize for your untidy appearance in a language distinctly understood. don't hold your parasol so close to your face, nor so low down. you cannot see your way clear, and you will run against somebody. always hold an umbrella or parasol so that it will clear your bonnet, and leave the space before your face open, that you may see your way clearly. if you are ever caught in a shower, and meet a gentleman friend who offers an umbrella, accept it, if he will accompany you to your destination; but do not deprive him of it, if he is not able to join you. should he insist, return it to his house or store the instant you reach home, with a note of thanks. if a stranger offers you the same services, decline it positively, but courteously, at the same time thanking him. never stop to speak to a gentleman in the street. if you have anything important to say to him, allow him to join and walk with you, but do not stop. it is best to follow the same rule with regard to ladies, and either walk with them or invite them to walk with you, instead of stopping to talk. a lady who desires to pay strict regard to etiquette, will not stop to gaze in at the shop windows. it looks countrified. if she is alone, it looks as if she were waiting for some one; and if she is not alone, she is victimizing some one else, to satisfy her curiosity. remember that in meeting your gentlemen friends it is your duty to speak first, therefore do not cut them by waiting to be recognized. be sure, however, that they see you before you bow, or you place yourself in the awkward position of having your bow pass, unreturned. you are not expected to recognize any friend on the opposite side of the street. even if you see them, do not bow. avoid "cutting" any one. it is a small way of showing spite, and lowers you more than your enemy. if you wish to avoid any further intercourse bow, coldly and gravely, but do not look at any one, to whom you are in the habit of bowing, and pass without bowing. if you do this, they may flatter themselves that they were really unrecognized, but a distant, cold bow will show them that you speak from civility only, not from friendship. in the street a lady takes the arm of a relative, her affianced lover, or husband, but of no other gentleman, unless the streets are slippery, or in the evening. when a lady walks with two gentlemen, she should endeavor to divide her attention and remarks equally between them. if you do stop in the street, draw near the walls, that you may not keep others from passing. loud talking and laughing in the street are excessively vulgar. not only this, but they expose a lady to the most severe misconstruction. let your conduct be modest and quiet. if a gentleman, although a stranger, offers his hand to assist you in leaving a carriage, omnibus, or to aid you in crossing where it is wet or muddy, accept his civility, thank him, bow and pass on. if you wish to take an omnibus or car, see that it is not already full. if it is, do not get in. you will annoy others, and be uncomfortable yourself. it is best to carry change to pay car or omnibus fare, as you keep others waiting whilst the driver is making change, and it is apt to fall into the straw when passing from one hand to another. if a gentleman gives you his seat, hands your fare, or offers you any such attention, _thank him_. it is not countrified, it is lady-like. if you do not speak, bow. be careful not to be alone in the streets after night fall. it exposes you to insult. if you are obliged to go out, have a servant, or another lady, if you cannot procure the escort of a gentleman, which is, of course, the best. walk slowly, do not turn your head to the right or left, unless you wish to walk that way, and avoid any gesture or word that will attract attention. never look back! it is excessively ill-bred. make no remarks upon those who pass you, while there is even a possibility that they may hear you. never stare at any one, even if they have peculiarities, which make them objects of remark. in taking your place in an omnibus or car, do so quietly, and then sit perfectly still. do not change your place or move restlessly. make room for others if you see that the opposite side is full. if you walk with a gentleman, when he reaches your door invite him in, but if he declines, do not urge him. if you are returning from a ball or party, and the hour is a very late (or early) one, you are not bound in politeness to invite your escort to enter; the hour will be your apology for omitting the ceremony. chapter xv. letter writing. there is no branch of education called so universally into requisition as the art of letter writing; no station, high or low, where the necessity for correspondence is not felt; no person, young or old, who does not, at some time, write, cause to be written, and receive letters. from the president in his official capacity, with the busy pens of secretaries constantly employed in this branch of service, to the irish laborer who, unable to guide a pen, writes, also by proxy, to his kinsfolks across the wide ocean; all, at some time, feel the desire to transmit some message, word of love, business, or sometimes enmity, by letter. yet, in spite of the universal need, and almost universal habit, there are really but very few persons who write a _good_ letter; a letter that is, at the same time long enough to interest, yet not long enough to tire; sufficiently condensed to keep the attention, and not tedious, and yet detailed enough to afford satisfaction; that is correct in grammatical construction, properly punctuated, written in a clear, legible hand, with the date, address, signature, all in the proper place, no words whose letters stand in utter defiance to spelling-book rules; in short, a well-written letter. thousands, millions are sent from post to post every day. the lightning speed of the telegraph takes its messages from city to city; the panting steamer carries from continent to continent its heavy mail-bags, laden with its weight of loving messages; the "iron horse" drags behind it, its measure of the many missives; while, in the far-distant western wilds, the lumbering wagon bears its paper freight, with its pen eloquence, to cheer and comfort, or sadden and crush, the waiting emigrants, longing for news of home. to some, who, with hearts desolated by the separation from the home circle, could read, with an eager interest, volumes of the most common-place, trivial incidents, if only connected with the loved ones there, will come pages, from the pen of the dearest relative, full of learning, wit, and wisdom, wholly uninteresting to the receiver. why is this? not from any desire upon the part of the writer to display learning or talent, but because, writing a letter being to them a great undertaking, and the letter being destined to go a long distance, they look upon it as an event too unusual to be wasted in detailing the simple, every-day details of domestic life, and ransack memory and learning for a subject worthy of the long journey and unusual labor. others will have, from mere acquaintances, long, tedious details of uninteresting trivialities, and from the near relatives, short, dry epistles, which fall like stones upon the heart longing for little, affectionate expressions, and home memories. from some letter writers, who are in the midst of scenes and events of the most absorbing interest, letters arrive, only a few lines long, without one allusion to the interesting matter lying so profusely around them; while others, with the scantiest of outward subjects, will, from their own teeming brain, write bewitching, absorbing epistles, read with eagerness, laid aside with the echo of oliver twist's petition in a sigh; the reader longing for "more." it is, of course, impossible to lay down any distinct rule for the _style_ of letter writing. embracing, as it does, all subjects and all classes, all countries and associations, and every relation in which one person can stand to another, what would be an imperative rule in some cases, becomes positive absurdity in others. every letter will vary from others written before, in either its subject, the person addressed, or the circumstances which make it necessary to write it. letter writing is, in fact, but conversation, carried on with the pen, when distance or circumstances prevent the easier method of exchanging ideas, by spoken words. write, therefore, as you would speak, were the person to whom your letter is addressed seated beside you. as amongst relatives and intimate friends you would converse with a familiar manner, and in easy language, so in your letters to such persons, let your style be simple, entirely devoid of effort. again, when introduced to a stranger, or conversing with one much older than yourself, your manner is respectful and dignified; so let the letters addressed to those on these terms with yourself, be written in a more ceremonious style, but at the same time avoid stiffness, and above all, pedantry. a letter of advice to a child, would of course demand an entirely different style, from that written by a young lady to a friend or relative advanced in life; yet the general rule, "write as you would converse," applies to each and every case. neatness is an important requisite in a letter. to send a fair, clean sheet, with the words written in a clear, legible hand, will go a great way in ensuring a cordial welcome for your letter. avoid erasures, as they spoil the beauty of your sheet. if it is necessary to correct a word, draw your pen through it, and write the word you wish to use as a substitute, above the one erased; do not scratch out the word and write another over it: it is untidy, and the second word is seldom legible. another requisite for a good letter is a clear, concise style. use language that will be easily understood, and avoid the parenthesis. important passages in letters are often lost entirely, by the ambiguous manner in which they are worded, or rendered quite as unintelligible by the blots, erasures, or villainously bad hand-writing. a phrase may, by the addition or omission of one word, or by the alteration of one punctuation mark, convey to the reader an entirely different idea from that intended by the writer; so, while you write plainly, use good language, you must also write carefully, and punctuate properly. if you are in doubt about the correct spelling of a word, do not trust to chance, hoping it may be right, but get a dictionary, and be certain that you have spelt it as it ought to be. simplicity is a great charm in letter-writing. what you send in a letter, is, as a general rule, intended for the perusal of one person only. therefore to cumber your epistles with quotations, similes, flowery language, and a stilted, pedantic style, is in bad taste. you may use elegant language, yet use it easily. if you use a quotation, let it come into its place naturally, as if flowing in perfect harmony with your ideas, and let it be short. long quotations in a letter are tiresome. make no attempt at display in a correspondence. you will err as much in such an attempt, as if, when seated face to face with your correspondent, alone in your own apartment, you were to rise and converse with the gestures and language of a minister in his pulpit, or a lecturer upon his platform. as everything, in style, depends upon the subject of the letter, and the person to whom it is addressed, some words follow, relating to some of the various kinds of correspondence: business letters should be as brief as is consistent with the subject; clear, and to the point. say all that is necessary, in plain, distinct language, and say no more. state, in forcible words, every point that it is desirable for your correspondent to be made acquainted with, that your designs and prospects upon the subject may be perfectly well understood. write, in such a letter, of nothing but the business in hand; other matters will be out of place there. nowhere is a confused style, or illegible writing, more unpardonable than in a business letter; nowhere a good style and hand more important. avoid flowery language, too many words, all pathos or wit, any display of talent or learning, and every merely personal matter, in a business letter. letters of compliment must be restricted, confined entirely to one subject. if passing between acquaintances, they should be written in a graceful, at the same time respectful, manner. avoid hackneyed expressions, commonplace quotations, and long, labored sentences, but while alluding to the subject in hand, as if warmly interested in it, at the same time endeavor to write in a style of simple, natural grace. letters of congratulation demand a cheerful, pleasant style, and an appearance of great interest. they should be written from the heart, and the cordial, warm feelings there will prompt the proper language. be careful, while offering to your friend the hearty congratulations her happy circumstances demand, that you do not let envy at her good fortune, creep into your head, to make the pen utter complaining words at your own hard lot. do not dampen her joy, by comparing her happiness with the misery of another. there are many clouds in the life of every one of us. while the sun shines clearly upon the events of your friend's life let her enjoy the brightness and warmth, unshadowed by any words of yours. give her, to the full, your sympathy in her rejoicing, cheerful words, warm congratulations, and bright hopes for the future. should there be, at the time of her happiness, any sad event you wish to communicate to her, of which it is your duty to inform her, write it in another letter. if you must send it the same day, do so, but let the epistle wishing her joy, go alone, unclouded with the news of sorrow. at the same time, avoid exaggerated expressions of congratulation, lest you are suspected of a desire to be satirical, and avoid underlining any words. if the language is not forcible enough to convey your ideas, you will not make it better by underlining it. if you say to your friend upon her marriage, that you wish her "_joy_ in her new relations, and _hope_ she may be _entirely happy_ in her domestic life," you make her doubt your wishes, and think you mean to ridicule her chances of such happiness. letters of condolence are exceedingly trying, both to read and to write. if the affliction which calls for them is one which touches you nearly, really grieving and distressing you, all written words must seem tame and cold, compared with the aching sympathy which dictates them. it is hard with the eyes blinded by tears, and the hand shaking, to write calmly; and it is impossible to express upon paper all the burning thoughts and words that would pour forth, were you beside the friend whose sorrow is yours. if you do not feel the trial, your task is still more difficult, for no letters demand truth, spoken from the heart, more than letters of condolence. do not treat the subject for grief too lightly. write words of comfort if you will, but do not appear to consider the affliction as a trifle. time may make it less severe, but the first blow of grief must be heavy, and a few words of sincere sympathy will outweigh pages of mere expressions of hope for comfort, or the careless lines that show the letter to be one of mere duty, not feeling. let your friend feel that her sorrow makes her dearer to you than ever before, and that her grief is yours. to treat the subject with levity, or to wander from it into witticisms or every-day chit-chat, is a wanton insult, unworthy of a lady and a friend. do not magnify the event, or plunge the mourner into still deeper despondency by taking a despairing, gloomy view of the sorrow, under which she is bent. show her the silver lining of her cloud, try to soothe her grief, yet be willing to admit that it _is_ a cloud, and that she _has_ cause for grief. to throw out hints that the sorrow is sent as a punishment to an offender; to imply that neglect or imprudence on the part of the mourner is the cause of the calamity; to hold up the trial as an example of retribution, or a natural consequence of wrong doing, is cruel, and barbarous. even if this is true, (indeed, if this is the case, it only aggravates the insult); avoid such retrospection. it is as if a surgeon, called in to a patient suffering from a fractured limb, sat down, inattentive to the suffering, to lecture his patient upon the carelessness which caused the accident. one of the most touching letters of condolence ever written was sent by a literary lady, well known in the ranks of our american authoresses, to her sister, who had lost her youngest child. the words were few, merely:-- "sister darling: "i cannot write what is in my heart for you to-day, it is too full. filled with a double sorrow, for you, for my own grief. tears blind me, my pen trembles in my hand. oh, to be near you! to clasp you in my arms! to draw your head to my bosom, and weep with you! darling, god comfort you, i cannot. "s." that was all. yet the sorrowing mother said that no other letter, though she appreciated the kind motive that dictated all, yet none comforted her as did these few lines. written from the heart, their simple eloquence touched the heart for which they were intended. early stages of great grief reject _comfort_, but they long, with intense longing, for sympathy. letters written to gentlemen should be ceremonious and dignified. if the acquaintance is slight, write in the third person, if there is a necessity for a letter. if a business letter, be respectful, yet not servile. it is better to avoid correspondence with gentlemen, particularly whilst you are young, as there are many objections to it. still, if a friend of long standing solicits a correspondence, and your parents or husband approve and permit compliance with the request, it would be over-prudish to refuse. write, however, such letters as, if they were printed in the newspapers, would cause you no annoyance. if the acquaintance admits of a frank, friendly style, be careful that your expressions of good will do not become too vehement, and avoid any confidential communications. when he begins to ask you to keep such and such passages secret, believe me, it is quite time to drop the correspondence. letters of enquiry, especially if they request a favor, should contain a few lines of compliment. if the letter is upon a private subject, such as enquiry with regard to the illness or misfortune of a friend, avoid making it too brief. to write short, careless letters upon such subjects, is unfeeling, and they will surely be attributed to motives of obligation or duty, not to interest. letters of enquiry, referring to family matters, should be delicately worded, and appear dictated by interest, not mere curiosity. if the enquiry refers to matters interesting only to yourself, enclose a postage-stamp for the reply. in answering such letters, if they refer to your own health or subjects interesting to yourself, thank the writer for the interest expressed, and answer in a satisfactory manner. if the answer interests your correspondent only, do not reply as if the enquiry annoyed you, but express some interest in the matter of the letter, and give as clear and satisfactory reply as is in your power. letters offering favors--be careful in writing to offer a favor, that you do not make your friend feel a heavy weight of obligation by over-rating your services. the kindness will be duly appreciated, and more highly valued if offered in a delicate manner. too strong a sense of obligation is humiliating, so do not diminish the real value of the service by forcing the receiver to acknowledge a fictitious value. let the recipient of your good will feel that it affords you as much pleasure to confer the favor as it will give her to receive it. a letter accompanying a present, should be short and gracefully worded. the affectionate spirit of such little epistles will double the value of the gift which they accompany. never refer to a favor received, in such a letter, as that will give your gift the appearance of being payment for such favor, and make your letter of about as much value as a tradesman's receipted bill. letters of thanks for enquiries made, should be short, merely echoing the words of the letter they answer, and contain the answer to the question, with an acknowledgement of your correspondent's interest. if the letter is your own acknowledgement of a favor conferred, let the language be simple, but strong, grateful, and graceful. fancy that you are clasping the hand of the kind friend who has been generous or thoughtful for you, and then write, even as you would speak. never hint that you deem such a favor an obligation to be returned at the first opportunity; although this may really be the case, it is extremely indelicate to say so. in your letter gracefully acknowledge the obligation, and if, at a later day, you can return the favor, then let actions, not words, prove your grateful recollection of the favor conferred upon you. if your letter is written to acknowledge the reception of a present, speak of the beauty or usefulness of the gift, and of the pleasant associations with her name it will always recall. letters of recommendation should be truthful, polite, and carefully considered. such letters may be business letters, or they may be given to servants, and they must be given only when really deserved. do not be hasty in giving them; remember that you are, in some measure responsible for the bearer; therefore, never sacrifice truth and frankness, to a mistaken idea of kindness or politeness. letters of introduction must be left unsealed. they must not contain any allusion to the personal qualities of the bearer, as such allusion would be about as sure a proof of ill-breeding as if you sat beside your friend, and ran over the list of the virtues and talents possessed by her. the fact that the person bearing the letter is your friend, will be all sufficient reason for cordial reception by the friend to whom the letter is addressed. the best form is:-- philadelphia, _june th, --_. my dear mary: this letter will be handed to you by mrs. c., to whom i am pleased to introduce you, certain that the acquaintance thus formed, between two friends of mine, of so long standing and so much beloved, will be pleasant to both parties. any attention that you may find it in your power to extend to mrs. c. whilst she is in your city, will be highly appreciated, and gratefully acknowledged, by your sincere friend a----. letters of advice should not be written unsolicited. they will, in all probability, even when requested, be unpalatable, and should never be sent unless they can really be of service. write them with frankness and sincerity. to write after an act has been committed, and is irrevocable, is folly, and it is also unkind. you may inform your friend that, "had you been consulted, a different course from the one taken would have been recommended," and you may really believe this, yet it will probably be false. seeing the unfavorable result of the wrong course will enable you fully to appreciate the wisdom of the right one, but, had you been consulted when the matter was doubtful, you would probably have been as much puzzled as your friend to judge the proper mode of action. you should word a letter of advice delicately, stating your opinion frankly and freely, but giving it _as_ an opinion, not as a positive law. if the advice is not taken, do not feel offended, as others, more experienced than yourself upon the point in question, may have also been consulted. let no selfish motive govern such a letter. think only of the good or evil to result to your friend, and while you may write warmly and earnestly, let the motive be a really disinterested one. letters of excuse should be frank and graceful. they must be written promptly, as soon as the occasion that calls for them admits. if delayed, they become insulting. if such a letter is called forth by an act of negligence on your own part, apologize for it frankly, and show by your tone that you sincerely desire to regain the confidence your carelessness has periled. if you have been obliged by positive inability to neglect the fulfilment of any promise you have given, or any commission you have undertaken, then state the reason for your delay, and solicit the indulgence of your friend. do not write in such stiff, formal language that the apology will seem forced from you, but offer your excuse frankly, as if with a sincere desire to atone for an act of negligence, or remove a ground of offence. letters of intelligence are generally the answer to letters of enquiry, or the statement of certain incidents or facts, interesting both to the writer and reader of the letter. be careful in writing such a letter that you have all the facts in exact accordance with the truth. remember that every word is set down against you, if one item of your information prove to be false; and do not allow personal opinion or prejudice to dictate a single sentence. never repeat anything gathered from mere hearsay, and be careful, in such a letter, that you violate no confidence, nor force yourself upon the private affairs of any one. do not let scandal or a mere love of gossip dictate a letter of intelligence. if your news is painful, state it as delicately as possible, and add a few lines expressive of sympathy. if it is your pleasant task to communicate a joyful event, make your letter cheerful and gay. if you have written any such letter, and, after sending it, find you have made any error in a statement, write, and correct the mistake immediately. it may be a trivial error, yet there is no false or mistaken news so trifling as to make a correction unnecessary. invitations are generally written in the third person, and this form is used where the acquaintance is very slight, for formal notes, and cards of compliment. the form is proper upon such occasions, but should be used only in the most ceremonious correspondence. if this style is adopted by a person who has been accustomed to write in a more familiar one to you, take it as a hint, that the correspondence has, for some reason, become disagreeable, and had better cease. autograph letters should be very short; merely acknowledging the compliment paid by the request for the signature, and a few words expressing the pleasure you feel in granting the favor. if you write to ask for an autograph, always inclose a postage stamp for the answer. date every letter you write accurately, and avoid postscripts. politeness, kindness, both demand that every letter you receive must be answered. nothing can give more pleasure in a correspondence, than prompt replies. matters of much importance often rest upon the reply to a letter, and therefore this duty should never be delayed. in answering friendly letters, it will be found much easier to write what is kind and interesting, if you sit down to the task as soon as you read your friend's letter. always mention the date of the letter to which your own is a reply. never write on a half sheet of paper. paper is cheap, and a _half_ sheet looks both mean and slovenly. if you do not write but three lines, still send the whole sheet of paper. perfectly plain paper, thick, smooth, and white, is the most elegant. when in mourning, use paper and envelopes with a black edge. never use the gilt edged, or fancy bordered paper; it looks vulgar, and is in bad taste. you may, if you will, have your initials stamped at the top of the sheet, and on the seal of the envelope, but do not have any fancy ornaments in the corners, or on the back of the envelope. you will be guilty of a great breach of politeness, if you answer either a note or letter upon the half sheet of the paper sent by your correspondent, even though it may be left blank. never write, even the shortest note, in pencil. it looks careless, and is rude. never write a letter carelessly. it may be addressed to your most intimate friend, or your nearest relative, but you can never be sure that the eye for which it is intended, will be the _only_ one that sees it. i do not mean by this, that the epistle should be in a formal, studied _style_, but that it must be correct in its grammatical construction, properly punctuated, with every word spelt according to rule. even in the most familiar epistles, observe the proper rules for composition; you would not in conversing, even with your own family, use incorrect grammar, or impertinent language; therefore avoid saying upon paper what you would not say with your tongue. notes written in the third person, must be continued throughout in the same person; they are frequently very mysterious from the confusion of pronouns, yet it is a style of correspondence much used and very proper upon many occasions. for compliment, inquiry where there is no intimacy between the parties, from superiors to inferiors, the form is elegant and proper. if you receive a note written in the third person, reply in the same form, but do not reply thus to a more familiar note or letter, as it is insulting, and implies offence taken. if you wish to repel undue familiarity or impertinence in your correspondent, then reply to the epistle in the most formal language, and in the third person. it is an extraordinary fact, that persons who have received a good education, and who use their pens frequently, will often, in writing notes, commence in the third person and then use the second or first personal pronoun, and finish by a signature; thus-- miss claire's compliments to mr. james, and wishes to know whether you have finished reading my copy of "jane eyre," as if mr. james had finished it, i would like to lend it to another friend. sincerely yours, ella claire. the errors in the above are too glaring to need comment, yet, with only the alteration of names, it is a copy, _verbatim_, of a note written by a well educated girl. never sign a note written in the third person, if you begin the note with your own name. it is admissible, if the note is worded in this way:-- will mr. james return by bearer, the copy of "jane eyre" he borrowed, if he has finished reading it, and oblige his sincere friend, ella claire. if you use a quotation, never omit to put it in quotation marks, otherwise your correspondent may, however unjustly, accuse you of a desire to pass off the idea and words of another, for your own. avoid postscripts. above all, never send an inquiry or compliment in a postscript. to write a long letter, upon various subjects, and in the postscript desire to be remembered to your friend's family, or inquire for their welfare, instead of a compliment, becomes insulting. it is better, if you have not time to write again and place such inquiries above your signature, to omit them entirely. nobody likes to see their name mentioned as an afterthought. punctuate your letters carefully. the want of a mark of punctuation, or the incorrect placing of it, will make the most woful confusion. i give an instance of the utter absurdity produced by the alteration of punctuation marks, turning a sensible paragraph to the most arrant nonsense: "cæsar entered; on his head his helmet; on his feet armed sandals; upon his brow there was a cloud; in his right hand his faithful sword; in his eye an angry glare; saying nothing, he sat down." by using precisely the same words, merely altering the position of the punctuation marks, we have-- "cæsar entered on his head; his helmet on his feet; armed sandals upon his brow; there was a cloud in his right hand; his faithful sword in his eye; an angry glare saying nothing; he sat down." be careful, then, to punctuate properly, that you may convey to the reader the exact sense of what is in your mind. if you receive an impertinent letter, treat it with contempt; do not answer it. never answer a letter by proxy, when you are able to write yourself. it is a mark of respect and love, to answer, in your own hand, all letters addressed to you. if you are obliged to write to a friend to refuse to grant a favor asked, you will lessen the pain of refusal by wording your letter delicately. loving words, if it is a near friend, respectful, kind ones if a mere acquaintance, will make the disagreeable contents of the letter more bearable. try to make the _manner_ smooth and soften the hardness of the _matter_. every letter must embrace the following particulars: st. the date. d. the complimentary address. d. the body of the letter. th. the complimentary closing. th. the signature. th. the address. there are two ways of putting the date, and the address. the first is to place them at the top of the sheet, the other is to place them after the signature. when at the top, you write the name of your residence, or that of the city in which you reside, with the day of the month and the year, at the right hand of the first line of the sheet. then, at the left hand of the next line, write the address, then the complimentary address below the name; thus-- willow grove, new york, _june th, _. mrs. e. c. howell, my dear madam, i received your letter, etc. at the end of the letter, on the right hand of the sheet, put the complimentary closing, and then the signature; thus-- i remain, my dear madam, with much respect, yours sincerely, s. e. law. if you place the date and address after the signature, put it at the left of the sheet; thus-- i remain, my dear madam, with much respect, yours sincerely, s. e. law. mrs. e. c. howell. _june th, ._ for a long letter, it is better to put the date and address at the top of the page. for a letter of only a few lines, which ends on the first page, the second form is best. in a letter written to a person in the same city, you need not put the address under the signature; if not, write it-- s. e. law, willow grove, new york. in writing to a dear friend or relative, where there is no formality required, you may omit the name at the top of the letter; put the date and address thus-- willow grove, new york, _june th, _. dear anna: i write, etc. it is best, however, to put the full name at the bottom of the last page, in case the letter is mislaid without the envelope; thus-- e. c. law. miss anna wright. if you use an envelope, and this custom is now universal, fold your letter neatly to fit into it; then direct on the envelope. put first the name, then the name of the person to whose care the letter must be directed, then the street, the city, and state. if the town is small, put also the county. this is the form:-- miss anna wright, care of mr. john c. wright, no. , lexington street, greensburg--lee county. mass. if the city is a large one, new york, philadelphia, baltimore, or any of the principal cities of the union, you may omit the name of the county. if your letter is to go abroad, add the name of the country: as, england, or france, in full, under that of the city. the name of the state is usually abbreviated, and for the use of my readers, i give the names of the united states with their abbreviations: maine, me. new hampshire, n. h. vermont, vt. massachusetts, mass. rhode island, r. i. connecticut, conn. new york, n. y. new jersey, n. j. pennsylvania, pa., or, penn. delaware, del. maryland, md. virginia, va. north carolina, n. c. south carolina, s. c. georgia, ga., or, geo. alabama, ala. mississippi, miss. missouri, mo. louisiana, la. tennessee, tenn. kentucky, ky. indiana, ind. ohio, o. michigan, mich. illinois, ill. wisconsin, wis. arkansas, ark. texas, tex. iowa, io. florida, flo. oregon, o. california, cal. minnesota, minn. district of columbia, d. c. if you are writing from another country to america, put united states of america after the name of the state. on the upper right hand corner of your envelope, put your postage-stamp. if you send a letter by private hand, write the name of the bearer in the lower left hand corner, thus: mrs. e. a. howell, clinton place, boston. mr. g. g. lane. in directing to any one who can claim any prefix, or addition, to his proper name do not omit to put that "republican title." for a clergyman, rev. for reverend is put before the name, thus:-- rev. james c. day. for a bishop: right reverend e. banks. for a physician: dr. james curtis. or, james curtis, m.d. for a member of congress: hon. e. c. delta. for an officer in the navy: capt. henry lee, u. s. n. for an officer in the army: col. edward holmes, u. s. a. for a professor: prof. e. l. james. if the honorary addition, ll.d., a. m., or any such title belongs to your correspondent, add it to his name on the envelope, thus:-- j. l. peters, ll.d. if you seal with wax, it is best to put a drop under the turn-over, and fasten this down firmly before you drop the wax that is to receive the impression. cards of compliment are usually written in the third person. i give a few of the most common and proper forms. for a party: miss lee's compliments to mr. bates, for wednesday evening, nov. th, at o'clock. addressed to a lady: miss lee requests the pleasure of miss howard's company on wednesday evening, nov. th, at o'clock. for a ball, the above form, with the word _dancing_, in the left hand corner. invitations to dinner or tea specify the entertainment thus: mrs. garret's compliments to mr. and mrs. howard, and requests the pleasure of their company to dine (or take tea) on wednesday, nov. th, at o'clock. the form for answering, is:-- miss howard accepts with pleasure miss lee's polite invitation for wednesday evening. or, miss howard regrets that a prior engagement will prevent her accepting miss lee's polite invitation for wednesday evening. mr. and mrs. howard's compliments to mrs. garret, and accept with pleasure her kind invitation for wednesday. or, mrs. howard regrets that the severe illness of mr. howard will render it impossible for either herself or mr. howard to join mrs. garret's party on wednesday next. upon visiting cards, left when the caller is about to leave the city, the letters _p. p. c._ are put in the left hand corner, they are the abbreviation of the french words, _pour prendre congé_, or may, with equal propriety, stand for _presents parting compliments_. another form, _p. d. a._, _pour dire adieu_, may be used. no accomplishment within the scope of human knowledge is so beautiful in all its features as that of epistolary correspondence. though distance, absence, and circumstances may separate the holiest alliances of friendship, or those who are bound together by the still stronger ties of affection, yet the power of interchanging thoughts, words, feelings, and sentiments, through the medium of letters, adds a sweetness to the pain of separation, renovating to life, and adding to happiness. the wide ocean may roll between those who have passed the social years of youth together, or the snow-capped alps may rise in sublime grandeur, separating early associates; still young remembrances may be called up, and the paradise of memory made to bloom afresh with unwithered flowers of holy recollection. though we see not eye to eye and face to face, where the soft music of a loved voice may fall with its richness upon the ear, yet the very soul and emotions of the mind may be poured forth in such melody as to touch the heart "that's far away," and melt down the liveliest eye into tears of ecstatic rapture. without the ability to practice the refined art of epistolary correspondence, men would become cold and discordant: an isolated compound of misanthropy. they would fall off in forsaken fragments from the great bond of union which now adorns and beautifies all society. absence, distance, and time would cut the silken cords of parental, brotherly, and even connubial affection. early circumstances would be lost in forgetfulness, and the virtues of reciprocal friendship "waste their sweetness on the desert air." since, then, the art and practice of letter-writing is productive of so much refined and social happiness, a laudable indulgence in it must ever be commendable. while it elevates the noble faculties of the mind, it also chastens the disposition, and improves those intellectual powers which would otherwise remain dormant and useless. notwithstanding the various beauties and pleasures attendant upon the accomplishment, yet there are many who have given it but a slight portion of their attention, and have, therefore, cause to blush at their own ignorance when necessity demands its practice. there is no better mode by which to test the acquirements of either a young lady or gentleman than from their letters. letters are among the most useful forms of composition. there are few persons, who can read or write at all, who do not frequently have occasion to write them; and an elegant letter is much more rare than an elegant specimen of any other kind of writing. the more rational and elevated the topics are, on which you write, the less will you care for your letters being seen, or for paragraphs being read out of them; and where there is no need of any secrecy, it is best not to bind your friend by promises, but to leave it to her discretion. chapter xvi. polite deportment, and good habits. lord chesterfield says, "good sense and good nature suggest civility in general; but in good breeding there are a thousand little delicacies which are established only by custom." it is the knowledge and practice of such "little delicacies" which constitutes the greatest charm of society. manner may be, and, in most cases, probably is, the cloak of the heart; this cloak may be used to cover defects, but is it not better so to conceal these defects, than to flaunt and parade them in the eyes of all whom we may meet? many persons plead a love of truth as an apology for rough manners, as if truth was never gentle and kind, but always harsh, morose, and forbidding. surely good manners and a good conscience are no more inconsistent with each other than beauty and innocence, which are strikingly akin, and always look the better for companionship. roughness and honesty are indeed sometimes found together in the same person, but he is a poor judge of human nature who takes ill-manners to be a guarantee of probity of character. some persons object to politeness, that its language is unmeaning and false. but this is easily answered. a lie is not locked up in a phrase, but must exist, if at all, in the mind of the speaker. in the ordinary compliments of civilized life, there is no intention to deceive, and consequently no falsehood. polite language is pleasant to the ear, and soothing to the heart, while rough words are just the reverse; and if not the product of ill temper, are very apt to produce it. the plainest of truths, let it be remembered, can be conveyed in civil speech, while the most malignant lies may find utterance, and often do, in the language of the fishmarket. many ladies say, "oh, i am perfectly frank and outspoken; i never stop to mince words," or, "there is no affectation about me; all my actions are perfectly natural," and, upon the ground of frankness, will insult and wound by rude language, and defend awkwardness and ill-breeding by the plea of "natural manners." if nature has not invested you with all the virtues which may be desirable in a lady, do not make your faults more conspicuous by thrusting them forward upon all occasions, and at all times. "assume a virtue if you have it not," and you will, in time, by imitation, acquire it. by endeavoring to _appear_ generous, disinterested, self-sacrificing, and amiable, the opposite passions will be brought into subjection, first in the manner, afterwards in the heart. it is not the desire to deceive, but the desire to please, which will dictate such a course. when you hear one, who pretends to be a lady, boast that she is rough, capricious, and gluttonous, you may feel sure that she has never tried to conquer these faults, or she would be ashamed, not proud, of them. the way to make yourself pleasing to others, is to show that you care for them. the whole world is like the miller at mansfield, "who cared for nobody--no, not he--because nobody cared for him." and the whole world will serve you so, if you give them the same cause. let every one, therefore, see that you do care for them, by showing them, what sterne so happily calls, "the small, sweet courtesies of life," those courtesies in which there is no parade; whose voice is too still to tease, and which manifest themselves by tender and affectionate looks, and little, kind acts of attention, giving others the preference in every little enjoyment at the table, in the field, walking, sitting, or standing. thus the first rule for a graceful manner is unselfish consideration of others. by endeavoring to acquire the habit of politeness, it will soon become familiar, and sit on you with ease, if not with elegance. let it never be forgotten, that genuine politeness is a great fosterer of family love; it allays accidental irritation, by preventing harsh retorts and rude contradictions; it softens the boisterous, stimulates the indolent, suppresses selfishness, and by forming a habit of consideration for others, harmonizes the whole. politeness begets politeness, and brothers may be easily won by it, to leave off the rude ways they bring home from school or college. sisters ought never to receive any little attention without thanking them for it, never to ask a favor of them but in courteous terms, never to reply to their questions in monosyllables, and they will soon be ashamed to do such things themselves. both precept and example ought to be laid under contribution, to convince them that no one can have really good manners abroad, who is not habitually polite at home. if you wish to be a well-bred lady, you must carry your good manners everywhere with you. it is not a thing that can be laid aside and put on at pleasure. true politeness is uniform disinterestedness in trifles, accompanied by the calm self-possession which belongs to a noble simplicity of purpose; and this must be the effect of a christian spirit running through all you do, or say, or think; and, unless you cultivate it and exercise it, upon all occasions and towards all persons, it will never be a part of yourself. it is not an art to be paraded upon public occasions, and neglected in every-day duties; nor should it, like a ball-dress, be carefully laid aside at home, trimmed, ornamented, and worn only when out. let it come into every _thought_, and it will show forth in every _action_. let it be the rule in the homeliest duties, and then it will set easily when in public, not in a stiff manner, like a garment seldom worn. i wish it were possible to convince every woman that politeness is a most excellent good quality; that it is a necessary ingredient in social comfort, and a capital assistant to actual prosperity. like most good things, however, the word politeness is often misunderstood and misapplied; and before urging the practical use of that which it represents, it may be necessary to say what it means, and what it does not mean. politeness is not hypocrisy:--cold-heartedness, or unkindness in disguise. there are persons who can smile upon a victim, and talk smoothly, while they injure, deceive, or betray. and they will take credit to themselves, that all has been done with the utmost _politeness_; that every tone, look, and action, has been in perfect keeping with the rules of good breeding. "the words of their mouth are smoother than butter, but war is in their heart: their words are softer than oil, yet are they drawn swords." perish for ever and ever such spurious politeness as this! politeness is not servility. if it were so, a russian serf would be a model of politeness. it is very possible for persons to be very cringing and obsequious, without a single atom of politeness; and it often happens that men of the most sturdy independence of character, are essentially polite in all their words, actions, and feelings. it were well for this to be fully understood, for many people will abstain from acts of real politeness, and even of common civility, for fear of damaging their fancied independence. true politeness, as i understand it, is kindness and courtesy of feeling brought into every-day exercise. it comprehends hearty good will towards everybody, thorough and constant good-humor, an easy deportment, and obliging manners. every person who cultivates such feelings, and takes no pains to conceal them, will necessarily be polite, though she may not exactly know it; while, on the other hand, a woman essentially morose and selfish, whatever may be her pretensions, must be very far from truly polite. it is very true there are those whose position in society compels them to observe certain rules of etiquette which pass for politeness. they bow or courtesy with a decent grace; shake hands with the precise degree of vigor which the circumstances of the case require; speak just at the right time, and in the required manner, and smile with elegant propriety. not a tone, look, or gesture, is out of place; not a habit indulged which etiquette forbids; and yet, there will be wanting, after all, the secret charm of sincerity and heart kindness, which those outward signs are intended to represent; and, wanting which, we have only the form, without the essence, of politeness. let me recommend, therefore, far beyond all the rules ever penned by teachers of etiquette, the cultivation of kind and loving feelings. throw your whole soul into the lesson, and you will advance rapidly towards the perfection of politeness, for "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh," and the movements of your form and the words you utter will follow faithfully the hidden springs of action within. there cannot be genuine good breeding to any happy degree, where there is not self-respect. it is that which imparts ease and confidence to our manners, and impels us, for our own sake, as well as for the sake of others, to behave becomingly as intelligent beings. it is a want of true politeness that introduces the discord and confusion which too often make our homes unhappy. a little consideration for the feelings of those whom we are bound to love and cherish, and a little sacrifice of our own wills, would, in multitudes of instances, make all the difference between alienation and growing affection. the principle of genuine politeness would accomplish this; and what a pity it is that those whose only spring of rational enjoyment is to be found at _home_, should miss that enjoyment by a disregard of little things, which, after all, make up the sum of human existence! what a large amount of actual discomfort in domestic life would be prevented, if all children were trained, both by precept and example, to the practice of common politeness! if they were taught to speak respectfully to parents, and brothers, and sisters, to friends, neighbors, and strangers, what bawlings, and snarlings would be stilled! if their behavior within doors, and especially at the table, were regulated by a few of the common rules of good breeding, how much natural and proper disgust would be spared! if courtesy of demeanor, towards all whom they meet in field or highway, were instilled, how much more pleasant would be our town travels, and our rustic rambles! every parent has a personal interest in this matter; and if every parent would but make the needful effort, a great degree of gross incivility, and consequent annoyance, would soon be swept away from our hearths and homes. whilst earnestly endeavoring to acquire true politeness, avoid that spurious imitation, affectation. it is to genuine politeness and good breeding, what the showy paste is to the pure diamond. it is the offspring of a sickly taste, a deceitful heart, and a sure proof of low breeding. the certain test of affectation in any individual, is the looking, speaking, moving, or acting in any way different when in the presence of others, especially those whose opinion we regard and whose approbation we desire, from what we should do in solitude, or in the presence of those only whom we disregard, or who we think cannot injure or benefit us. the motive for resisting affectation is, that it is both unsuccessful and sinful. it always involves a degree of hypocrisy, which is exceedingly offensive in the sight of god, which is generally detected even by men, and which, when detected, exposes its subject to contempt which could never have been excited by the mere absence of any quality or possession, as it is by the false assumption of what is not real. the best cure for affectation is the cultivation, on principle, of every good, virtuous, and amiable habit and feeling, not for the sake of being approved or admired, but because it is right in itself, and without considering what people will think of it. thus a real character will be formed instead of a part being assumed, and admiration and love will be spontaneously bestowed where they are really deserved. artificial manners are easily seen through; and the result of such observations, however accomplished and beautiful the object may be, is contempt for such littleness. many ladies, moving, too, in good society, will affect a forward, bold manner, very disagreeable to persons of sense. they will tell of their wondrous feats, when engaged in pursuits only suited for men; they will converse in a loud, boisterous tone; laugh loudly; sing comic songs, or dashing bravuras in a style only fit for the stage or a gentleman's after-dinner party; they will lay wagers, give broad hints and then brag of their success in forcing invitations or presents; interlard their conversation with slang words or phrases suited only to the stable or bar-room, and this they think is a dashing, fascinating manner. it may be encouraged, admired, in their presence, by gentlemen, and imitated by younger ladies, but, be sure, it is looked upon with contempt, and disapproval by every one of good sense, and that to persons of real refinement it is absolutely disgusting. other ladies, taking quite as mistaken a view of real refinement, will affect the most childish timidity, converse only in whispers, move slowly as an invalid, faint at the shortest notice, and on the slightest provocation; be easily moved to tears, and profess never to eat, drink, or sleep. this course is as absurd as the other, and much more troublesome, as everybody dreads the scene which will follow any shock to the dear creature's nerves, and will be careful to avoid any dangerous topics. self-respect, and a proper deference for our superiors in age or intellect, will be the best safeguards against either a cringing or insolent manner. without self-respect you will be apt to be both awkward and bashful; either of which faults are entirely inconsistent with a graceful manner. be careful that while you have sufficient self-respect to make your manner easy, it does not become arrogance and so engender insolence. avoid sarcasm; it will, unconsciously to yourself, degenerate into pertness, and often downright rudeness. do not be afraid to speak candidly, but temper candor with courtesy, and never let wit run into that satire that will wound deeply, whilst it amuses only slightly. let your carriage be at once dignified and graceful. there are but few figures that will bear quick motion; with almost every one its effect is that of a jerk, a most awkward movement. let the feet, in walking or dancing, be turned out slightly; when you are seated, rest them both on the floor or a footstool. to sit with the knees or feet crossed or doubled up, is awkward and unlady-like. carry your arms, in walking, easily; never crossing them stiffly or swinging them beside you. when seated, if you are not sewing or knitting, keep your hands perfectly quiet. this, whilst one of the most difficult accomplishments to attain, is the surest mark of a lady. do not fidget, playing with your rings, brooch, or any little article that may be near you; let your hands rest in an easy, natural position, perfectly quiet. never gesticulate when conversing; it looks theatrical, and is ill-bred; so are all contortions of the features, shrugging of shoulders, raising of the eyebrows, or hands. when you open a conversation, do so with a slight bow and smile, but be careful not to simper, and not to smile too often, if the conversation becomes serious. never point. it is excessively ill-bred. avoid exclamations; they are in excessively bad taste, and are apt to be vulgar words. a lady may express as much polite surprise or concern by a few simple, earnest words, or in her manner, as she can by exclaiming "good gracious!" "mercy!" or "dear me!" remember that every part of your person and dress should be in perfect order before you leave the dressing-room, and avoid all such tricks as smoothing your hair with your hand, arranging your curls, pulling the waist of your dress down, or settling your collar or sleeves. avoid lounging attitudes, they are indelicate, except in your own private apartment. nothing but ill health will excuse them before company, and a lady had better keep her room if she is too feeble to sit up in the drawing-room. let your deportment suit your age and figure; to see a tiny, fairy-like young girl, marching erect, stiff, and awkwardly, like a soldier on parade, is not more absurd than to see a middle-aged, portly woman, aping the romping, hoydenish manners of a school-girl. let the movements be easy and flexible, and accord with the style of the lady. let your demeanor be always marked by modesty and simplicity; as soon as you become forward or affected, you have lost your greatest charm of manner. you should be quite as anxious to _talk_ with propriety as you are to think, work, sing, paint, or write, according to the most correct rules. always select words calculated to convey an exact impression of your meaning. let your articulation be easy, clear, correct in accent, and suited in tone and emphasis to your discourse. avoid a muttering, mouthing, stuttering, droning, guttural, nasal, or lisping, pronunciation. let your speech be neither too loud nor too low; but adjusted to the ear of your companion. try to prevent the necessity of any person crying, "what? what?" avoid a loquacious propensity; you should never occupy more than your share of the time, or more than is agreeable to others. beware of such vulgar interpolations as "you know," "you see," "i'll tell you what." pay a strict regard to the rules of grammar, even in private conversation. if you do not understand these rules, learn them, whatever be your age or station. though you should always speak pleasantly, do not mix your conversation with loud bursts of laughter. never indulge in uncommon words, or in latin and french phrases, but choose the best understood terms to express your meaning. above all, let your conversation be intellectual, graceful, chaste, discreet, edifying, and profitable. chapter xvii. conduct in church. in entering a church of a different denomination from the one you have been in the habit of frequenting, ask the sexton to show you to a seat. it is the height of rudeness to enter a pew without invitation, as the owner may desire, if her family do not require all the seats, to invite her own personal friends to take the vacant places. if you are not perfectly familiar with the manner of conducting the worship, observe those around you, rise, kneel, and sit, as you see they do. it is a mark of disrespect for the pastor as well as irreverence for the most high, to remain seated through the whole service, unless you are ill, or otherwise incapacitated from standing and kneeling. enter the sacred edifice slowly, reverentially, and take your seat quietly. it is not required of you to bow to any friend you may see in passing up the aisle, as you are supposed yourself to be, and suppose her to be entirely absorbed in thought proper for the occasion. to stare round the church, or if you are not alone, to whisper to your companion, is irreverent, indelicate, and rude. if your own feelings will not prompt you to silence and reverence, pay some regard to the feelings of others. be careful not to appear to notice those around you. if others are so rude as to talk or conduct improperly, fix your own mind upon the worship which you come to pay, and let the impertinence pass unheeded. if there is another person in the same pew with yourself, who, more familiar with the service, hands you the book, or points out the place, acknowledge the civility by a silent bow; it is not necessary to speak. in your own pew, extend this courtesy to a stranger who may come in beside you, and even if it is a gentleman you may, with perfect propriety, hand him a book, or, if there is but one, offer him a share of your own. endeavor always to be in your seat before the service commences, and after it is over do not hurry away, and, above all, do not begin your preparations for departure, by shutting up your book, or putting on any article of dress you have removed, before the benediction. if you are invited to accompany a friend to church, be sure you are ready in good season, that you may not keep her waiting when she calls, or cause her to lose any part of the service by detaining her at your house. if you invite a friend to take a seat in your pew, call for her early, give her the most comfortable place, and be sure she has a prayer and hymn-book. if you are invited to stand as god-mother to a friend's child, be at the house of the parents in season to accompany the family to church, and send, the day before, the gift you design for the babe. a silver cup is the usual present, with your little namesake's initials, or full name, engraved upon it. in assisting at a wedding at church, if you are one of the bridesmaids, wear white, a white bonnet but no veil. if you occupy the first place, the bride's, it is in better taste to be married in a simple dress and bonnet, and don your full dress when you return home to receive your friends. in such ceremonies the wedding-party all meet in the vestry, and go to the altar together.[a] [a] for further particulars, see chapter on bridal etiquette. at a funeral, enter the church quietly, and, unless you belong to the mourners, wait until they leave the church before you rise from your seat. never attempt to speak to any of the afflicted family. however heartfelt your sympathy, it will not be welcome at that time. if, when entering a crowded church, a gentleman sees you and offers his seat, acknowledge his civility, whether accepted or declined, by a bow, and a whispered "thank you." many, who claim the name of lady, and think they are well-bred, will accept such an act of politeness without making the slightest acknowledgement. if the service has commenced, do not speak; a courteous inclination of the head will convey your sense of obligation. remember, as an imperative, general rule, in whatever church you may be, whether at home or abroad, conform to the mode of worship whilst you are in that church. if you find, in these modes, forms which are disagreeable to you, or which shock your own ideas of religion, avoid a second visit, but do not insult the congregation, by showing your contempt or disapproval, whilst you are among them. silence, quiet attention, and a grave, reverential demeanor, mark the christian lady in church. chapter xviii. ball room etiquette. for the hostess. when you have decided upon what evening you will give your ball, send out your invitations, a fortnight before the evening appointed. to ladies, word them:-- mrs. l---- requests the pleasure of miss g----'s company on wednesday evening, jan. th, at o'clock. _dancing._ the favor of an early answer is requested. to gentlemen:-- mrs. l----'s compliments to mr. r---- for wednesday evening, jan. th, at o'clock. _dancing._ the favor of an early answer is requested. if you are unmarried, put your mother's name with your own upon the cards. if you have a father or grown-up brother, let the invitations to the gentlemen go in his name. in making your list for a ball, do not set down _all_ of your "dear five hundred friends." the middle-aged, (unless they come as chaperons,) the serious, and the sober-minded, will not accept your invitation, and the two last named may consider it insulting to be invited to so frivolous an amusement. by the way, i do not agree with the straight-laced people, who condemn all such amusements. i agree with madame pilau. when the curé of her parish told her he was writing a series of sermons against dancing, she said to him: "you are talking of what you do not understand. _you_ have never been to a ball, _i_ have; and i assure you there is no sin in the matter worthy of mention or notice." if you really wish for dancing, you will accommodate your guests to your rooms, inviting one third more than they will hold, as about that number generally disappoint a ball-giver. if you wish to have a rush of people, and do not mind heat, crowding, and discomfort, to insure an immense assembly, (a ball to be talked about for its size only,) then you may invite every body who figures upon your visiting list. over one hundred is a "large ball," under that a "ball," unless there are less than fifty guests, when it is merely a "dance." the directions given in chapter th for the arrangement of the dressing-rooms will apply here, but your parlor, or ball room, requires some attention. have the carpets taken up two days before the evening of the ball, and the floor waxed. a smooth, polished floor is an absolute necessity for pleasant dancing. at one end of your ball room, have a space partitioned off for the musicians. leave, for their use, plenty of room, as silence or discord will come from a crowded orchestra. if your house is double, and you use the rooms on each side, place the musicians in the hall. four pieces of music is enough for a private ball, unless your rooms are very large. for one room a piano, violin, and violoncello makes a good band. you must have your rooms well ventilated if you wish to avoid fainting and discomfort. to secure a really brilliant ball, pay considerable attention to the arrangement of your ball room. in paris this arrangement consists in turning the room, for the evening, into a perfect garden. every corner is filled with flowers. wreaths, bouquets, baskets, and flowering-plants in moss-covered pots. with brilliant light, and taste in the details of arranging them, this profusion of flowers produces an exquisitely beautiful effect, and harmonizes perfectly with the light dresses, cheerful faces, and gay music. the pleasure of your guests, as well as the beauty of the rooms, will be increased by the elegance of your arrangements; their beauty will be heightened by brilliant light, and by judicious management a scene of fairy-like illusion may be produced. not only in the ball room itself, but in the hall, supper-room, and dressing-rooms, place flowers. a fine effect is produced, by placing a screen, covered with green and flowers, before the space set apart for the musicians. to hear the music proceeding from behind this floral embankment, and yet have the scraping and puffing men invisible, adds very much to the illusion of the scene. in the dressing-rooms have, at least, two servants for each. let them take the cloaks and hoods, and put a numbered ticket upon each bundle, handing the duplicate number to the lady or gentleman owning it. it is best to have the supper-room upon the same floor as the ball room. the light dresses, worn upon such occasions, suffer severely in passing up and down a crowded staircase. have a number of double cards written or printed with a list of the dances, arranged in order, upon one side, and a space for engagements upon the other. attach a small pencil to each. let a waiter stand at the entrance to the ball room, and hand a card to each guest as they pass in. the first strain of music must be a march; then follows a quadrille, then a waltz. other dances follow in any order you prefer until the fourteenth, which should be the march which announces supper. if you throw open the supper-room, early, and the guests go out when they wish, the march may be omitted. twenty-one to twenty-four dances are sufficient. have an interval of ten minutes after each one. the supper-room should be thrown open at midnight, and remain open until your last guest has departed. let it be brilliantly lighted, and have plenty of waiters in attendance. there can be no rule laid down for the supper. it may be hot or heavily iced. it may consist entirely of confectionary, or it may include the bill of fare for a hotel table. one rule you must observe; have abundance of everything. other entertainments may be given upon economical principles, but a ball cannot. light, attendance, supper, every detail must be carefully attended to, and a ball must be an expensive luxury. at a ball-supper every one stands up. the waiters will hand refreshment from the tables to the gentlemen, who, in turn, wait upon the ladies. you must bring forth your whole array of smiles, when you perform the part of hostess in a ball room. as your guests will come dropping in at all hours, you must hover near the door to greet each one entering. there will be many strangers amongst the gentlemen. miss g. will bring her fiancée. miss l., her brother, just returned, after ten years' absence, from india. miss r. introduces her cousin, in the city for a week. miss m., as a belle, will, perhaps, take the liberty of telling some ten or twelve of her most devoted admirers where she may be seen on the evening of your ball, and, though strangers, they will, one after another, bow over your hand. to each and every one you must extend the amiable greeting due to an invited guest. if you are the only lady of the house, your duties will, indeed, be laborious. you must be everywhere at the same moment. not a guest must pass unwelcomed. you must introduce partners to all the wall-flowers. you must see that every set is made up before the music commences. each guest must be introduced to a proper partner for every dance, and not one frown, one pettish word, one look of fatigue, one sigh of utter weariness must disturb your smiling serenity. you must be ready to chat cheerfully with every bore who detains you, when crossing the room, to make up a set of quadrilles in a minute's time; listen patiently to the sighing lover, whose fair one is engaged fifty times during twenty dances; secure a good dancer for each longing belle; do the same for the beaux; yet you must never be hurried, worried, or fatigued. if there are several ladies, a mother and two or three daughters, for instance, divide the duties. let one receive the guests, another arrange the sets, a third introduce couples, and a fourth pair off the talkers. a brother or father will be a treasure in a ball room, as the standing of sets can be better managed by a gentleman than a lady. none of the ladies who give the ball should dance until every fair guest has a partner. one of your duties will be to see that no young ladies lose their supper for want of an escort to ask them to go out. you may give the hint to an intimate gentleman friend, if there is no brother or father to take the duty, introduce him to the disconsolate damsel, and send her off happy. if all the guests go to the supper-room when it is first thrown open, you must be the last to leave the ball room. for the hostess to take the lead to the supper-room, leaving her guests to pair off, and follow as they please, is in very bad taste. if you announce supper by a march, many of your guests will remain in the ball room, to promenade, avoid the crowd at the first table, and indulge in a tête-à-tête conversation. these will afterwards go out, in pairs, when the first crush in the refreshment-room is over. if, by accident or negligence, you miss an introduction to any of your gentlemen guests, you may still speak to them if you wish. it is your privilege as hostess to introduce yourself, and invite any gentleman to dance with you, or offer to introduce him to a partner. in the latter case he ought to mention his name, but if he omits to do so, you may ask it. there has been a custom introduced in some of our large cities lately, which is an admirable one for a private ball. it is to hire, for the evening, a public hall. this includes the dressing-room, supper-room, every comfort, and saves you from the thousand annoyances which are certain to follow a ball in a private house. you hire the hall and other rooms, the price including light, hire a band of music, and order a supper at a confectioners, hiring from his establishment all the china, glass, and silver you will want. in this case you must enclose in every invitation a ticket to admit your friend's party, to prevent loungers from the street coming in, uninvited. you will, perhaps, find the actual outlay of money greater, when you thus hire your ball room, but you will save more than the difference in labor, annoyance, and the injury to your house. you secure a better room than any parlor, you have the floor waxed and polished without the trouble of taking up your carpets. you save all the dreadful labor of cleaning up the house the next day, as well as that of preparation. you can, if you wish, invite a few friends to a late dinner with you, and all proceed to the ball room together. you must be the first to enter the room, the last to leave it, and every duty is the same as if you were at home; the ball room is, in fact, your own house, for the evening. if you wish your guests to come in costume for a fancy ball, name the character of the entertainment in your invitation. chapter xix. ball room etiquette. for the guest. as in every other case where hospitality is extended to you by invitation, you must send your answer as soon as possible, accepting or declining the civility. in preparing a costume for a ball, choose something very light. heavy, dark silks are out of place in a ball room, and black should be worn in no material but lace. for a married lady, rich silk of some light color, trimmed with flowers, lace, or tulle; white silk plain, or lace over satin, make an exquisite toilette. jewels are perfectly appropriate; also feathers in the _coiffure_. for the young lady, pure white or light colors should be worn, and the most appropriate dress is of some thin material made over silk, white, or the same color as the outer dress. satin or velvet are entirely out of place on a young lady. let the _coiffure_ be of flowers or ribbons, never feathers, and but very little jewelry is becoming to an unmarried lady. all ladies must wear boots or slippers of satin, white, black, or the color of the dress. white are the most appropriate; black, the most becoming to the foot. white kid gloves, full trimmed, a fine lace trimmed handkerchief, and a fan, are indispensable. be very careful, when dressing for a ball, that the hair is firmly fastened, and the _coiffure_ properly adjusted. nothing is more annoying than to have the hair loosen or the head-dress fall off in a crowded ball room. your first duty, upon entering the room, is to speak to your hostess. after a few words of greeting, turn to the other guests. at a private ball, no lady will refuse an introduction to a gentleman. it is an insult to her hostess, implying that her guests are _not gentlemen_. it is optional with the lady whether to continue or drop the acquaintance after the ball is over, but for that evening, however disagreeable, etiquette requires her to accept him for _one_ dance, if she is disengaged, and her hostess requests it. at a public ball, it is safest to decline all introductions made by the master of ceremonies, though, as before, such acquaintances are not binding after the evening is over. be very careful how you refuse to dance with a gentleman. a prior engagement will, of course, excuse you, but if you plead fatigue, or really feel it, do not dance the set with another gentleman; it is most insulting, though sometimes done. on the other hand, be careful that you do not engage yourself twice for the same quadrille. in a polka or valse, you may do this, saying, "i will dance the second half with you, but have a prior engagement for the first." then, after a few rounds with your first partner, say to him that you are engaged for the remainder of the dance, resume your seat, and your second partner will seek you. let your manner in a ball room be quiet. it looks very badly to see a lady endeavoring to attract attention by her boisterous manner, loud talking, or over-active dancing. do not drag through dances as if you found them wearisome; it is an insult to your partner, but while you are cheerful and animated, be lady-like and dignified in your deportment. at the end of each dance, your partner will offer his arm, and conduct you to a seat; then bow, and release him from further attendance, as he may be engaged for the next dance. when invited to dance, hand your ball card to the gentleman, who will put his name in one of the vacant places. if you wish to go to the supper-room, accept the invitation that will be made, after the dances whilst it is open, but do not remain there long. you may be keeping your escort from other engagements. if you are accompanied by a gentleman, besides your father or brother, remember he has the right to the first dance, and also will expect to take you in to supper. do not let any one else interfere with his privilege. if you wish, during the evening, to go to the dressing-room to arrange any part of your dress, request the gentleman with whom you are dancing to escort you there. he will wait for you at the door, and take you back to the ball-room. do not detain him any longer than is necessary. never leave the ball room, for any such purpose, alone, as there are always gentlemen near and round the door, and it looks very badly to see a lady, unattended, going through a crowd of gentlemen. it is best at a ball, to dance only every other dance, as over-fatigue, and probably a flushed face, will follow too much dancing. decline the intermediate ones, on the plea of fatigue, or fear of fatigue. never go into the supper-room with the same gentleman twice. you may go more than once, if you wish for an ice or glass of water, (surely no lady wants two or three _suppers_,) but do not tax the same gentleman more than once, even if he invites you after each dance. no lady of taste will carry on a flirtation in a ball room, so as to attract remark. be careful, unless you wish your name coupled with his, how you dance too often with the same gentleman. if you are so unfortunate as, forgetting a prior engagement, to engage yourself to two gentlemen for the same dance, decline dancing it altogether, or you will surely offend one of them. never press forward to take the lead in a quadrille, and if others, not understanding the figures, make confusion, try to get through without remark. it is useless to attempt to teach them, as the music, and other sets, will finish the figure long before you can teach and dance it. keep your temper, refrain from all remark, and endeavor to make your partner forget, in your cheerful conversation, the annoyances of the dance. there is much that is exhilarating in the atmosphere of a ball room. the light, music, company, and even dancing itself, are all conducive to high spirits; be careful that this flow of spirits does not lead you into hoydenism and rudeness. guard your actions and your tongue, that you may leave the room as quietly and gracefully as you enter it. avoid confidential conversation in a ball room. it is out of season, and in excessively bad taste. be modest and reserved, but avoid bashfulness. it looks like a school-girl, and is invariably awkward. never allow your partner, though he may be your most intimate friend, to converse in a low tone, or in any way assume a confidential or lover-like air at a ball. it is in excessively bad taste, and gives annoyance frequently, as others suppose such low-toned remarks may refer to them. dance as others do. it has a very absurd look to take every step with dancing-school accuracy, and your partner will be the first one to notice it. a quadrille takes no more steps than a graceful walk. never stand up to dance in a quadrille, unless you are perfectly familiar with the figures, depending upon your partner to lead you through. you will probably cause utter confusion in the set, annoy the others forming it, and make yourself appear absurd. no young lady should go to a ball, without the protection of a married lady, or an elderly gentleman. never cross a ball room alone. never remain in a ball room until all the company have left it, or even until the last set. it is ill-bred, and looks as if you were unaccustomed to such pleasures, and so desirous to prolong each one. leave while there are still two or three sets to be danced. do not accept any invitation for these late dances, as the gentleman who invites you may find out your absence too late to take another partner, and you will thus deprive him of the pleasure of dancing. chapter xx. places of amusement. do not accept an invitation to visit any place of public amusement, with a gentleman with whom you are but slightly acquainted, unless there is another lady also invited. you may, as a young lady, go with a relative or your fiancée, without a chaperon, but not otherwise. having received an invitation which it is proper for you to accept, write an answer immediately, appointing an hour for your escort to call for you, and be sure that you are ready in good season. to arrive late is not only annoying to those near your seat, whom you disturb when you enter, but it is ill-bred; you will be supposed to be some one who is unable to come early, instead of appearing as a lady who is mistress of her own time. if the evening is cloudy, or it rains, your escort will probably bring a carriage; and let me say a few words here about entering and leaving a carriage. how to get in is difficult, but of less importance than getting out; because if you stumble in, no one sees you, but some one who may happen to be in the carriage; but how to get out is so important, that i will illustrate it by a short diplomatic anecdote:-- "the princess of hesse-darmstadt," says m. mercy d'argenteau, an ambassador of the last century, "having been desired by the empress of austria to bring her three daughters to court, in order that her imperial majesty might choose one of them for a wife to one of her sons, drove up in her coach to the palace gate. scarcely had they entered the presence, when, before even speaking to them, the empress went up to the second daughter, and, taking her by the hand, said, 'i choose this young lady.' the mother, astonished at the suddenness of her choice, inquired what had actuated it. 'i watched the young ladies get out of their carriage,' said the empress. 'your eldest daughter stepped on her dress, and only saved herself from falling by an awkward scramble; the youngest jumped from the coach to the ground, without touching the steps; the second, just lifting her dress in front, so as she descended to show the point of her shoe, calmly stepped from the carriage to the ground, neither hurriedly nor stiffly, but with grace and dignity: she is fit to be an empress; her eldest sister is too awkward, her youngest too wild.'" the theatre--here you must wear your bonnet, though you may throw aside your cloak or shawl, if you desire it. your escort will pass to your seats first, and then turn and offer his hand to lead you to your own. once seated, give your attention entirely to the actors whilst the curtain is up--to your companion when it is down. do not look round the house with your glass. a lady's deportment should be very modest in a theatre. avoid carefully every motion, or gesture that will attract attention. to flirt a fan, converse in whispers, indulge in extravagant gestures of merriment or admiration, laugh loudly or clap your hands together, are all excessively vulgar and unlady-like. never turn your head to look at those seated behind you, or near you. if you speak to your companion while the curtain is up, lower your voice, that you may not disturb others interested in the conversation on the stage. the opera--here you should wear full dress, an opera cloak, and either a head-dress, or dressy bonnet of some thin material. your gloves must be of kid, white, or some very light tint to suit your dress. many dress for the opera as they would for the theatre; but the beauty of the house is much enhanced by each lady contributing her full dress toilette to the general effect. if you go to the dressing-room, leave your hood and shawl in the care of the woman in waiting, whom you must fee when she returns them to you. if you do not wish to go to the dressing-room, allow your escort to take off your shawl or cloak, and throw it over the back of the seat. as your opera cloak must be light enough to keep on all the evening, though you may throw it open, you must wear over it a heavier cloak or a shawl. throw this off in the lobby, just before you enter your box. your gloves you must keep on all the evening. avoid handling the play bills, as the printing ink will soil your gloves in a few minutes, making your hands appear very badly for the rest of the evening. you should be in your seat at the opera before the overture commences. never converse during the performance. even the lowest toned remark will disturb a real lover of music, and these will be near you on all sides. exclamations of admiration, "exquisite!" "beautiful!" or "lovely!" are in the worst taste. show your appreciation by quiet attention to every note, and avoid every exclamation or gesture. in our new opera houses there are rooms for promenade, and between the acts your escort may invite you to walk there. you may accept the invitation with perfect propriety. he will leave the box first and then offer his hand to you. in the lobby take his arm, and keep it until you return to the box. if you have taken your cloak or shawl to your seat, leave them there during your promenade. return to your seat when the gong sounds the recall, that you may not disturb others after the next act commences. in walking up and down in the promenading saloon, you may pass and repass friends. bow the first time you meet them, but not again. if you meet your gentlemen friends there, bow, but do not stop to speak. they may join you for once round the room, then allow them to leave you. your escort will feel justly offended if you allow any other gentlemen to engross your attention entirely when he has invited you to the entertainment. concerts--here, as at the opera, you may wear a bonnet or not, as you will. go early to the hall, unless you have secured a seat, and then, be in time for the first song. if you are unavoidably late, enter quietly, and take a seat near the door. it is very rude to push forward to the front of the hall, and either crowd those upon the benches, or force some gentleman to offer you his place. if the hall is so crowded that even the back seats are full, and a gentleman offers you his place, you should thank him before accepting it. again, i repeat, do not converse, or disturb those around you by exclamations or gesticulations. lectures--two ladies may attend a lecture, unaccompanied by a gentleman, without attracting attention. the dress, bonnet, and cloak, worn in the street, should be worn in a lecture-room, as these are, by no means, occasions for full dress. if you return at an early hour from any place of amusement, invite your escort into the house upon your arrival there, and lay aside your bonnet and shawl. if you keep them on, he will conclude that you expect him to shorten his visit. if it is late when you reach home, he will probably decline your invitation to enter. if, however, he accepts it, do not lay aside your shawl, and he will soon leave you. if he asks permission to call in the morning, you must, unless prevented by an imperative engagement, remain at home to see him. upon your way home from the theatre, concert, or opera, speak warmly of the pleasure of the evening, and, at parting, thank him for that pleasure. show by your manner that you have heartily enjoyed the entertainment you owe to his civility. if you are weary, do not allow him to see it. if disappointed, conceal that also. you will be able to find _some_ good points in the performance; speak of these and ignore the bad ones. if at the theatre, opera, or in a concert-room, you see an acquaintance, you are not expected to recognize her, unless near enough to speak. a lady must not bow to any one, even her own sister, across a theatre or concert-room. chapter xxi. accomplishments. in the present age, when education is within the reach of all, both rich and poor, every lady will endeavor to become, not only well educated, but accomplished. it is not, as some will assert, a waste of time or money. not only the fingers, voice, and figure are improved, but the heart and intellect will become refined, and the happiness greatly increased. take the young lady after a solid basis has been laid in her mind of the more important branches of education, and rear upon that basis the structure of lighter education--the accomplishments. to cultivate these, disregarding the more solid information, is to build your castle without any foundation, and make it, not only absurd, but unsteady. the pleasure of hearing from a lady a _cavatina_ executed in the most finished manner, will be entirely destroyed, if her first spoken words after the performance are vulgar, or her sentence ungrammatical. a lady without her piano, or her pencil, her library of french, german, or italian authors, her fancy work and tasteful embroideries, is now rarely met with, and it is right that such arts should be universal. no woman is fitted for society until she dances well; for home, unless she is perfect mistress of needlework; for her own enjoyment, unless she has at least one accomplishment to occupy thoughts and fingers in her hours of leisure. first upon the list of accomplishments, comes the art of conversing well. it is always ready. circumstances in society will constantly throw you into positions where you can use no other accomplishment. you will not have a musical instrument within reach, singing would be out of place, your fancy work at home, on many occasions, and then you can exert your most fascinating as well as useful accomplishment, the art of conversing well. little culture, unfortunately, is bestowed upon this accomplishment, which, beyond all others, promotes the happiness of home, enlivens society, and improves the minds of both speaker and listener. how many excellent women are deficient in the power of expressing themselves well, or, indeed, of expressing themselves at all! how many minds "cream and mantle" from the want of energy to pour themselves out in words! on the other hand, how some, equally well-intentioned, drown the very senses in their torrent of remarks, which dashes, like a water-fall, into a sombre pool of _ennui_ below! one lady will enter society, well-dressed, well-looking, polite; she does not intend to chill it by her presence; yet her absence is found a relief. she takes her place as if she considered it sufficient to dress and look well. she brings no stock to the community of ideas. her eyes return no response to the discourse which is going on. when you have once glanced at her, she becomes a mere expletive in the company. another one will be found a talker. she is like a canary bird; when others begin to speak, she hurries in her remarks, in an accompaniment. her voice must be uppermost; conversation becomes a contest who can speak the most rapidly. the timid and modest retire from the encounter--she has the field to herself. she goes on, without mercy; the voice of a syren would fatigue, if heard continually. others revolt at the injustice of the monopoly, and the words fall on ears that would be deaf if they could. these are extreme cases; there are many other minor errors. the higher qualities of conversation must undoubtedly be based upon the higher qualities of the mind; then it is, indeed, a privilege to commune with others. to acquire the power of thus imparting the highest pleasure by conversational powers, attention must be paid to literature. i am supposing the solid foundation of a good education already laid, but by literature, i do not mean only that class of it which is taught at school. reading, at the present day, is too much confined to light literature. i would not speak against this. the modern novels, and the poets of all ages, are good reading, but let them be taken in moderation, and varied by something more solid. let them be the dessert to the more substantial _dinner_ of history, travels, and works of a like nature. independent of the strength and polish given to the mind by a thorough course of reading, there is another reason why a lady should devote some portion of her time to it; she cannot do without it. she may, lacking this, pass through life respectably, even elegantly; but she cannot take her part in a communing with superior minds; she may enjoy, in wondering, the radiance of their intelligence; but the wondering must be composed, in part, of amazement at her own folly, in not having herself sought out the treasure concealed in the fathomless depths of books. she cannot truly enjoy society, with this art neglected. she may, for a few brief years, be the ornament of the drawing-room; but it must be, like many other ornaments there, in still life; she can never be the companion of the intellectual; and the time is gone by, when women, with all their energies excited, will be contented to be the mere plaything of brother, husband, or father. still it is not to the erudite, nor to the imaginative only, that it is given to please in conversation. the art of imparting our ideas easily and elegantly to others, may be improved by ourselves, if there are opportunities of mingling in good society, with little study. the mind must first be cultivated; but it should not abash those who are conscious of moderate talents, or imperfect cultivation, from taking a due part in conversation, on account of their inferiority. it is a very different thing to shine and to please; to shine in society is more frequently attempted than compassed: to please is in the power of all. the effort to shine, when fruitless, brings a certain disgrace, and engenders mortification; all good people are inclined to take the will for the deed, when they see a desire to please. a gentle, deferential, kind manner, will disarm even the most discerning from criticising too severely the deficiencies of the inexperienced; confidence, disrespect of others, volubility, eagerness to dispute, must irritate the self-love of others, and produce an averseness to acknowledge talent or information, where they may even happen to exist. it is wiser and safer for a young lady, in general, to observe the good, old-fashioned rule of being addressed first; but then she must receive the address readily, meeting it half way, repaying it by enlarging a little upon the topic thus selected, and not sinking into a dull silence, the moment after a reply is given. some young ladies start, as if thunderstruck, when spoken to, and stare as if the person who pays them that attention, had no right to awaken them from their reverie. others look affronted, possibly from shyness, and begin a derogatory attack upon the beauty of their dress by twitching the front breadth--or move from side to side, in evident distress and consternation. time remedies these defects; but there is one less curable and less endurable--that of pertness and flippancy--the loud remarks and exclamations--the look of self-sufficiency and confidence. but these offensive manifestations spring from some previous and deep-seated defects of character, and are only to be repelled by what, i fear, they will frequently encounter--the mortification of inspiring disgust. neither is the lengthy, prosy, didactic reply, consistent with the submission and simplicity of youth; egotism, and egotism once removed, that is, the bringing into the topic one's own family and relations, are also antidotes to the true spirit of conversation. in general, it is wiser, more in good taste, safer, more becoming, certainly more in accordance with good breeding, to avoid talking of persons. there are many snares in such topics; not merely the danger of calumniating, but that of engendering a slippery conscience in matters of fact. a young girl, shy and inexpert, states a circumstance; she feels her deficiency as a narrator, for the power of telling a story, is a power to be acquired only by practice. she is sometimes tempted to heighten a little the incidents, in order to get on a little better, and to make more impression. she must of course defend her positions, and then she perils the sanctity of truth. besides, few things narrow the intellect more than dwelling on the peculiarities, natural or incidental, of that small coterie of persons who constitute our world. it is, in general, a wise rule, and one which will tend much to insure your comfort through life, to avoid disclosures to others of family affairs. i do not mean to recommend reserve, or art; to friends and relations, too great frankness can hardly be practised; but, with acquaintance, the less our own circumstances are discussed, the happier, and the more dignified will our commerce with them continue. on the same principle, let the concerns of others be touched upon with delicacy, or, if possible, passed over in silence; more especially those details which relate to strictly personal or family affairs. public deeds are, of course, public property. but personal affairs are private; and there is a want of true good breeding, a want of consideration and deference, in speaking freely of them, even if your friend is unconscious of the liberty taken. it seems paradoxical to observe that the art of listening well forms a part of the duty of conversation. to give up the whole of your attention to the person who addresses himself to you, is sometimes a heavy tax, but it is one which we must pay for the privileges of social life, and an early practice will render it an almost involuntary act of good breeding; whilst consideration for others will give this little sacrifice a merit and a charm. to listen well is to make an unconscious advance in the power of conversing. in listening we perceive in what the interest, in what the failure of others consists; we become, too, aware of our own deficiencies, without having them taught through the medium of humiliation. we find ourselves often more ignorant than we could have supposed possible. we learn, by a very moderate attention to the sort of topics which please, to form a style of our own. the "art of conversation" is an unpleasant phrase. the power of conversing well is least agreeable when it assumes the character of an _art_. in listening, a well-bred lady will gently sympathize with the speaker; or, if needs must be, differ, as gently. much character is shown in the act of listening. some people appear to be in a violent hurry whilst another speaks; they hasten on the person who addresses them, as one would urge on a horse--with incessant "yes, yes, very good--indeed-- proceed!" others sit, on the full stare, eyes fixed as those of an owl, upon the speaker. others will receive every observation with a little hysterical giggle. but all these vices of manner may be avoided by a gentle attention and a certain calm dignity of manner, based upon a reflective, cultivated mind. observation, reading, and study, will form the groundwork for good powers of conversation, and the more you read, study, and see, the more varied and interesting will be your topics. a young lady should consider music as one branch of her education, inferior, in importance, to most of those studies which are pointed out to her, but attainable in a sufficient degree by the aid of time, perseverance, and a moderate degree of instruction. begun early, and pursued steadily, there is ample leisure in youth for the attainment of a science, which confers more cheerfulness, and brings more pleasure than can readily be conceived. a young lady should be able to play with taste, correctness, and readiness, upon the general principle that a well educated woman should do all things well. this, i should suppose, is in the power of most persons; and it may be attained without loss of health, of time, or any sacrifice of an important nature. she should consider it as an advantage, a power to be employed for the gratification of others, and to be indulged with moderation and good sense for her own resource, as a change of occupation. consider in this light, music is what providence intended it to be--a social blessing. the whole creation is replete with music,--a benignant power has made the language of the feathered tribe harmony; let us not suppose that he condemns his other creatures to silence in the song. music has an influence peculiar to itself. it can allay the irritation of the mind; it cements families, and makes a home, which might sometimes be monotonous, a scene of pleasant excitement. pursued as a recreation, it is gentle, rational, lady-like. followed as a sole object, it loses its charm, because we perceive it is then over-rated. the young lady who comes modestly forward, when called upon as a performer, would cease to please, were she, for an instant, to assume the air and confidence of a professional musician. there is a certain style and manner--confined now to second-rate performers, for the highest and most esteemed dispense with it--there is an effort and a dash, which disgust in the lady who has bad taste enough to assume them. and, whilst i am on this topic, let me remark that there is a great deal in the _choice_ of music, in the selection of its character, its suitability to your feelings, style, and taste, and this especially with respect to vocal music. there is no doubt that a good italian style is the best for instruction, and that it produces the most careful and accomplished singers. suppose a case. your parents, most fair reader, have paid a high price to some excellent professor, to instruct you--and, with a fair ear, and a sufficient voice, you have been taught some of those elaborate songs which are most popular at the opera. a party is assembled--music is one of the diversions. forth you step, and, with a just apprehension of the difficulties of your task, select one of those immortal compositions which the most eminent have made their study; you execute it wonderfully, only just falling a _little_ short of all the song should be; only just provoking a comparison, in every mind, with a high standard, present in the memory of every cultivated musician near you. a cold approval, or a good-natured "bravo!" with, believe me, though you do not hear it, a thorough, and, often, expressed conviction that you had better have left the thing alone, follows the effort which has merely proclaimed the fact that, spite of time and money spent upon the cultivation of your voice, you are but a second-rate singer. but, choose a wiser, a less pretending, a less conspicuous path. throw your knowledge into compositions of a less startling, less aspiring character. try only what you can compass. be wise enough not to proclaim your deficiencies, and the critics will go away disarmed, even if they are not charmed. but if there be _any_ voice, _any_ feeling, _any_ science, the touching melody, made vocal by youth and taste, will obtain even a far higher degree of encomium than, perhaps, it actually merits. you will please--you will be asked to renew your efforts. people will not be afraid of cadenzas five minutes long, or of bravuras, every note of which makes one hope it may be the last. it is true that, to a person who loves music, the performance of one of the incomparable songs of bellini, rosini, flotow, or mozart, is an actual delight--but; when attempted by a young amateur, it should be, like many other delights, confined to the private circle, and not visited upon society in general. do not suppose that i mean to recommend poor music, or feeble, ephemeral compositions. what is good need not, of necessity, be always difficult. ballad music is rich in songs adapted for the private performer--and there are many, in italian, of great beauty, which, though they would not be selected for a concert-room, or for brilliant display, are adapted for ladies. music is the greatest, best substitute for conversation. it has many merits, in this light. it can never provoke angry retort; it can never make enemies; it can injure no one's character by slander; and in playing and singing one can commit no indiscretion. music is a most excellent amusement, and, in society, an indispensable one. it aids conversation by occasionally interrupting it for a short period, to be renewed with a new impetus. it makes the most delightful recreation for the home circle, varying the toil and trouble of the father's or husband's working day, by the pleasures of the evening made by music's power to glide smoothly and swiftly. there are but few persons who are entirely without a love for music, even if they do not understand it. they will be borne along upon the waves of a sweet melody to high, pure thoughts, often to delicious memories. the piano is, at the present day, the most popular instrument in society. the harp has ceased to be fashionable, though it is sometimes heard. the latter is a most beautiful accompaniment for the voice, but requires a large room, as, in a small one, it will sound stringy and harsh. the guitar, while it makes a very pleasant accompaniment for the voice, has also the advantage of being easily carried from place to place. it requires as much judgment to select proper instrumental pieces for a parlor performance, as you would display in a choice of songs. page after page of black, closely printed notes, will drive those who see them from the piano. they may be executed in the most finished style, but they are not suited to general society. in their place, for practice, or for a musical soirée, where every one puts forth her best musical powers, they are appropriate, and will give pleasure, but they are not suited for a mixed party. when asked to play, choose, if you will, a brilliant, showy piece, but let it be short. it is better still to make no attempt at display, but simply try to please, selecting the music your own judgment tells you is best suited to your audience. avoid the loud, thumping style, and also the over-solemn style. be sure, before you accept any invitation to play, that you know perfectly the piece you undertake. it is better to play the simplest airs in a finished, faultless manner, than to play imperfectly the most brilliant variations. avoid movement at the piano. swinging the body to and fro, moving the head, rolling the eyes, raising the hands too much, are all bad tricks, and should be carefully abstained from. with respect to drawing, modeling, or any pursuits of the same nature, so much depends on taste and opportunity, and they are so little the accomplishments of society that they require but few of those restrictions which music, in its use and abuse, demands. drawing, like music, should be cultivated early. its advantages are the habits of perseverance and occupation, which it induces; and the additional delight which it gives to the works, both of nature and of art. like music, it gives independence--independence of society. the true lover of the arts has a superiority over the indifferent, and, if she be not better prepared for society, is much better fitted for retirement than those who are not so happily endowed with tastes, when in moderation, so innocent and beneficial. there is no accomplishment more graceful, pleasing, healthy, and lady-like, than that of riding well. avoiding, at the same time, timidity and the "fast" style, keeping within the bounds of elegant propriety, gracefully yielding to the guidance of your escort, and keeping your seat easily, yet steadily, are all points to be acquired. to ride well is undoubtedly an admirable qualification for a lady, as she may be as feminine in the saddle as in the ball room or home circle. it is a mistaken idea to suppose that to become an accomplished horse-woman a lady must unsex herself. but she must have a reserve in her manner, that will prevent contamination from the intercourse which too much riding may lead to. to hunt, or follow the field sports, in a pursuit which is the track of blood, disgusts the true admirer of gentle breeding. and such diversions will certainly result in a coarseness of manner and expression, growing upon the fair equestrian slowly but surely. a harsh voice, loud tone, expressions suited only to manly lips, but unconsciously copied, will follow her devotion to the unfeminine pursuit. nothing is more revolting than a woman who catches the tone and expressions of men. to hear the slang of jockeyism from female lips, is very offensive, yet ladies who mix in field sports are liable, nay, almost certain, to fall into a style of conversation which is ten times worse than the coarsest terms from the lips of a man. instances there are, of the fairest of our sex, from a fondness for such diversions, and a habitual participation in such society, becoming hard, bold, and disgusting, even whilst retaining all their female loveliness of person. a lady, unless she lives in the most retired parts of the country, should never ride alone, and even then she will be awkwardly placed, in case of accident, without an escort. in the cities, not only is it unfeminine, but positively dangerous, for a lady to ride unaccompanied by a gentleman, or a man servant. although it is impossible, within the limits of this little volume, to give many hints upon riding, a few may not be amiss. like many other accomplishments, a teacher is necessary, if you wish to attain perfection, and no written directions can make you a finished horse-woman, unless you have had tuition and practice. . in mounting you are desired, gentle amazon, to spring gracefully into your saddle, with the slight assistance of a hand placed beneath the sole of the shoe, instead of scrambling uncouthly to your "wandering throne," as miss fanshawe wittily calls it, from a high chair, as is frequently done by those who have not been properly instructed. to mount in the orthodox manner, you should stand nearly close to the horse, level with the front of the saddle, and taking the reins slackly in your right hand, you should place that hand on the nearest pommel, to secure your balance in rising, and with your left hand gather up the front of the habit, so as to leave the feet clear. the gentleman should place himself firmly, near, but not so near to you as to impede your rising, and with the same view must hold his head well back, as should he lose his hat from a whisk of your habit the effect produced is not good. you should then present your left foot, and the gentleman placing one hand beneath its sole, and the other above, so as to possess a safe hold, should, with nice judgment, give just such assistance as will enable you easily, with a spring, to vault gracefully into the saddle. you will then arrange your right leg comfortably over the pommel, your cavalier will then place your left foot in the stirrup and arrange the flow of the habit-skirt, and all is complete. all this, though so seemingly simple and easy, requires some little practice to effect neatly and gracefully. . secondly, when riding with a gentleman, remember that you are best placed on the _left_ side; because in that position the graceful flow of your habit is seen to the greatest advantage, while it does not inconvenience the gentleman by getting entangled with his stirrup, nor does it receive the splashes of his horse. . but when you have a double attendance of cavaliers, if you be at all a timid rider, it may become discreet to "_pack_" you (forgive the homely phrase) between the two, since, in this position, you are the most thoroughly protected from your own horse's shying, or from other horses or vehicles approaching you too closely, being thus forced to take that part of the road to which the better judgment of your companions inevitably guides you. if you be an accomplished equestrian, you will prefer being outside, and (as has been said) to the left. sit erect in the middle of your saddle, turning your face full towards the head of your horse. cling as closely as possible to the saddle, but avoid stooping forward, or using your hands to keep you in your seat. nervous motions on horseback are not only ungraceful, but dangerous, as your horse will not make any allowance for the delicacy of your nerves, and may prove his objections to a jerking hand, or a twitching rein, in a most decided and disagreeable manner. the riding-dress, or habit, is best made to fit the figure tightly, with tight sleeves. it may be open in the front, over a neatly fitting chemisette, or buttoned close to the throat, with a neat linen collar and cuffs. the loose sacque is ungraceful, but a basque is most becoming on horseback. gauntlet gloves, of leather, are the most suitable, and must be loose enough to give your hand perfect freedom, yet not so loose as to interfere with its motions. do not wear the skirt too long; it will be dangerous in case of accident, and it may prove annoying to your horse. your habit must be made of a material sufficiently heavy to hang gracefully, and not move too much with the wind. for a winter habit, a warmly-lined basque, trimmed at the throat and hands with fur, is an elegant and appropriate dress, and a round cap of the same cloth as the habit, with a band, and pieces to cover the ears, of fur to match the dress trimmings, makes a handsome and appropriate dress. in summer, your hat should be of fine straw, and slouched to shade the face; in winter, of felt, or, if you prefer, a close cap of cloth. the hat may be trimmed with feathers or knots of ribbon, and the shape should be one to protect the complexion, at the same time graceful and becoming. avoid any display in a riding dress. choose a material of some dark or neutral tint, and never use showy trimmings. curls, or any flowing loose style of wearing the hair, will be found exceedingly troublesome on horseback. arrange it neatly and compactly under your hat, for if a stray curl or lock annoys you, or is blown across your eyes by the wind, your hands will be too fully occupied to remedy the difficulty. your whip should be light and small, tasteful if you will, but not showy. at the period for which these hints are intended, the modern languages should form a portion of acquirement. as in music, an intelligent and assiduous girl may, i believe, acquire an adequate degree of proficiency in french, german, and italian, without having been abroad, though a foreign tour will be of the greatest use in the acquisition of the accent and niceties of each tongue. with respect to french, it is no doubt essential to comfort to understand it; it is one of the attributes of a lady to speak it well; still, it is not indispensable to speak it so well that the american lady is mistaken for a parisian. this, which but seldom happens, can only be acquired, in most cases, by a residence abroad. but french is thoroughly and grammatically taught in america. it is only the habit of speaking, the idioms and niceties, which cannot be acquired except by converse with a native. there are hundreds of competent instructors in this country, french ladies and gentlemen amongst the number, who form classes for conversation and familiarizing their pupils with these very idioms. after availing herself of such advantages, a young lady will find that a very short residence abroad will improve and facilitate her french conversation. much, however, will depend upon how you use the opportunities within your reach. there are many opportunities of practice in large towns; and foreigners give all facilities, by their readiness to converse, their good-nature in listening, and in helping the beginner by kind hints. if a young lady, with simplicity, good breeding, and good taste, endeavors to speak whenever she has an opportunity, words will come as if by intuition. do not think of by-standers and lookers-on; think only of the individual to whom you are addressing yourself. if possible, be not abashed by one or two errors at the first plunge--swim on till you have confidence. the effort, i grant, is great, and it may be obviated by a foreign education; but where this is impossible, the freedom acquired will more than repay the exertion. in foreign literature, walk carefully, and if you have an older, wiser head than your own to point out the best paths, improve the advantage. one cannot help deeming it a great era in education that german is cultivated as well as italian and french, and that stores of literature are opened, to vary the delights of intellect, and to give freshness and interest to the studies of youth. the rapture with which the works of schiller are perused in the original, seems to repay the hours devoted to german; and i am sure the perusal of tasso, or of the aristodemo of monti, would reward the study of italian, were not the acquisition of that exquisite language of itself a source of poetic pleasure. the modern french writers have increased an everlasting responsibility in corrupting the sources of amusement, open to the young readers, and it is remarkable that most of the distinguished french authors seem to have felt that they had erred, and to have retrieved in some of their works the tendencies of their other productions. take for instance, madame de stael; her books cannot be judged altogether; the effect of some of her eloquent and almost incomparable writings varies in an extraordinary degree. whilst "delphine" is unfit for the perusal of a modest woman, her "l'allemagne" is finely written throughout, and her criticisms and analyses of german writers are full of instruction as well as interest. still the works open to readers of french are numerous. the tragedies of corneille and racine are forcible and finished, and should be read because classical. the "alzire" of voltaire and his "zaire" with the dramas of casimir de la vigne are also worthy of perusal. it is not an inspiriting kind of reading, but it is rich in sentiment, and perfectly unexceptionable in moral tone. although the scepticism of most german writers renders this literature dangerous to a young mind, there are fields of pure, noble writing open in that language. the works of schiller, for example. his mind was originally noble, his heart good, his love to mankind, and his enquiry after truth were sincere. in early life, he wavered; and the besetting scepticism of the germans dimmed, for a time, his perceptions of all that is most sublime, as well as true, in our finite knowledge. he was chastened--he suffered--he believed. he died an early but a bright instance that great genius may exist with true and humble piety, and that the mind is never so powerful as when illumined by divine light. his works are a magnificent library in themselves--and i could almost say, be contented to learn german and to read schiller. some of his works are open to objection, his "bride of messina," portions of "the robbers," are better omitted from your collection, but "wallenstein" and "maria stuart" are noble and admirable productions. on this subject, and, indeed, on the whole of german literature, madame de stael is an excellent guide in her "l'allemagne," to which i refer the young german student, who is sincerely desirous of gleaning the good, and avoiding the evil in german compositions. italian literature furnishes a delightful theme for comment. it is singular that an enslaved, and, during many ages, a depraved and degraded people, should have possessed the purest poetry, the least exceptionable drama, in europe. there is little to exclude, and much to recommend, in this beautiful language. the works of tasso abound with high sentiment; the "inferno" of dante is a sublime picture of eternal retribution, softened with most touching pictures of human woe. happy are those who have leisure to pursue extensively the acquisition of italian literature, they may read and commit to memory without fear of an insidious meaning beneath the polished verse, or the prose which has all the charm of poetry. spanish literature will require the same judicious pruning which is necessary in french and german, but of all languages, it is the most musical for speech, and singing. a lady in society must, if she would not grow utterly weary in company, know how to dance. it has been the practice among many excellent people to represent the ball room as a "pitfall covered with flowers;" a sheet of breaking ice; above, all gayety and motion; below, all darkness and danger. it may be that to some minds the ball room may be replete with temptations; but there are minds which find temptations everywhere. the innocent may be innocent, nay, the pious may feel devout, even in a ball room. there is nothing immoral or wrong in dancing; it is the tendency of youth to dance--it is the first effort of a child--the first natural recreation. it seems so natural that i confess i am always doubtful of the sincerity of those young ladies who profess to dislike the ball room. in the present day, you must understand how to move gracefully through quadrilles, to dance polka, schottische, varsovienne, and waltz. to these you may add great variety of dances, each season, probably, bringing a new one. "dancing," says mr. sheldrake, "is one of the most healthy, as well as one of the most pleasing amusements that can be practised by the young. if it is learned from those who are well qualified to teach it, and practised, as it ought to be, consistently with the instructions given, it will contribute more to improve the health, as well as the form of the human frame, than any other exercise. for the discovery and promulgation of the true and correct principles according to which dancing should be taught, the world is indebted to france, a country which has long taken the lead in the elegant arts. in france, dancing was first raised to the dignity of a science, a royal academy being founded for the purpose of teaching and perfecting it, in the reign of louis quatorze. in this academy were trained many of the most distinguished dancers of both sexes." one of the most celebrated, madame simonet, gave the following account to mr. sheldrake of the mode of instruction pursued in the academy:--"all the pupils, before they were permitted to attempt to dance, were completely instructed in what were called the _preparatory exercises_; that is, a system of exercises, which endued all their limbs with strength, firmness, elasticity, and activity; when they had acquired these properties, they began to dance. "in these preparatory exercises, the motions were of the most simple kind, the object being to teach the pupil, gradually and separately, all those movements which, when combined, and rapidly executed, constitute dancing." madame simonet thus described those elementary instructions, as gone through by herself:--"she successively learned to stand flat and firm upon both her feet, with her limbs quite straight, and the whole person perfectly upright, but not stiff; then to lift one foot from the ground, and to keep it so for some time without moving any part of her body; she then replaced that foot on the ground, and raised the other in the same manner. these simple actions were repeated till the pupils were quite familiar with them; they were then directed to keep the body quite erect, but not stiff, and bearing firmly upon one leg, to raise the other from the ground, gradually and slowly, by bending the upper joint of the limb, at the same time making the knee straight, and putting the toe to its proper extent, but _no more_. the foot, after it had been kept in this state for some time, was returned to the ground from whence it was taken, and the other foot treated in the same manner; when quite familiarized to these actions, they were directed to walk (march, as some people will call it) slowly, performing the same motions with the feet alternately." the exercises which followed these, were upon the turning out of the feet, the balancing of the body, and other attitudes, which need not be particularized. mr. sheldrake gives several examples of persons trained upon these initiatory principles to the profession of dancing, who have lived in health to a great age. "this," says he, "is not the chance lot of a few; for i have, through life, been accustomed to see many persons of the same profession; i have communicated my own observations to many others, and all have agreed in remarking, that those who follow this profession have, very generally, excellent health, which very many of them carry into extreme old age. this indisputable fact can only be accounted for by supposing that the preparatory exercises which these persons go through, are a modification of what i have called regulated muscular tension, or action, and the early and constant practice of which lays a firm foundation for that high health which accompanies them through life. it is upon the same principle that a soldier is never seen with spinal curvature, or other personal deformity, or a stage dancer of either sex with a deformed person; it is, perhaps, impossible that such things should exist, for the plain reason, that the exercises which they begin to practice early in life, and continue regularly through its whole course, render it impossible for them to become so. "the inference to be drawn from these incontrovertible facts is, that if we, in very early life, teach young children to practice similar exercises, and follow them steadily afterwards, we shall confirm them in excellent health, and prevent the accession of those evils which so often cause deformity to the figure, and destruction to the constitution, at later periods of life. i do not propose to make every boy a soldier, or every girl a dancer upon the stage, but to adopt the principles, by the application of which those persons are trained to the successful practices of their several occupations, and so to modify them, that they may qualify other classes of society to follow _their_ different pursuits with equal success; and i am not without hopes that this undertaking will contribute something towards producing this desirable effect." dancing is an exercise which has been practiced by mankind from the most remote ages. with the egyptians, assyrians, and persians, the founders of the three great empires of the ancient world, dancing was the favorite exercise or accomplishment, and the practice was not less prevalent among their successors in power and importance, the greeks and romans. the jews, also, we learn from scripture, were strongly attached to the exercise at all periods of their history. at the present day, almost every people that exist, whether barbarous or civilized, has its own form of dancing. it is this universality of the exercise that makes dancing a subject of importance. being so extensively practiced, it must be the instrument either of good or evil to the human race. it is one of the most healthful and elegant amusements, and cannot be too highly recommended. among a rude and dissolute people it may degenerate into something worthy of condemnation; but all the blessings we have are similarly liable to abuse, and it would be most unjust to condemn a cheerful domestic amusement, merely because it has, at times, been degraded by people of low, vulgar, immoral tastes. by all physicians, dancing, when pursued in moderation, is recommended as highly conducive to bodily health; and it may be truly said, that, allied with music, nothing is more conducive to _mental_ health, more calculated to drive away melancholy, and put the whole temper into good humor. dancing is the poetry of motion. it must be performed with ease and grace, and always with a perfect regard for propriety of movement. as an art it is taught by professed masters; and one of the leading rules given to the learner is to raise and lower herself gracefully on the elastic part of her feet, and to keep perfect time to the music. dancing is really a simple and elegant gliding on the toes, which bend more or less to accommodate the steps, and prevent harsh, ungraceful motion. the most popular dances of the present day, are, first, the quadrille. these are of french origin, comparatively tranquil in their character, and generally danced once or more in every party. they are danced by four couples, one standing on each side of a square. there are many sets of quadrilles, the figures in each varying from the others. but there are five figures in each set. the plain, fancy, lancers, polka, mazourka, and german, are among the most popular. in plain quadrilles, a lady takes no steps, merely walking gracefully through the figures, but her feet must keep perfect time to the music, and she must know the changes of position perfectly. a quadrille may be very properly described as a conversation dance, as there are long pauses between the figures, when the dancers must have a fund of small talk ready for their partners. when moving in the figures, hold out your skirt a little with the right hand, merely to clear the ground, and prevent the possibility of treading upon it. next come the round dances, the _valse_, polka, schottische, varsovienne, and redowa. the waltz is danced both _à troistemps_ and _deuxtemps_. in the waltz, the position is a most important point. you may so lean upon your partner's arm, and so carry your figure, that the prudish can find but little fault, but you can also make the dance a most immodest one. i cannot, within the limits of my book, go into a long argument as to the propriety of these round dances. opinions differ, and i am not writing a sermon, but giving, as far as is in my power, hints to ladies in society. it is, therefore, enough for me to know that these dances are tolerated, and that, even were i so inclined, _i_ could not exclude them. to return to the position. stand a little to the right of your partner, that, in clasping your waist, he may draw you upon his arm to his shoulder, not his breast; the last position is awkward. by observing the first, you have your head free; turn it a little towards the left shoulder; need i say, never lay it upon your partner's shoulder? throw the head and shoulders a little back, not too much to be consistent with easy grace, place one hand upon your partner's shoulder, and the other in his disengaged hand. so, you are ready to start. the waltz may be danced to very fast time, or to slow music. the last is the most graceful, and there is not so much danger of giddiness. grace can only be gained by a perfect timing of the steps to the music, and also evenness of step. it is, when properly timed with perfect step, and easy, gliding motion, the most graceful of dances. the germans, who dance for the sake of _dancing_, will only allow a certain number of waltzers on the floor at one time, and these waltz in streams, all going down one side of the room and up the other, thus rendering collisions impossible. an english writer, in a recent work published on etiquette, speaks of waltzing thus:-- "it is perhaps useless to recommend flat-foot waltzing in this country, where ladies allow themselves to be almost hugged by their partners, and where men think it necessary to lift a lady almost off the ground, but i am persuaded that if it were introduced, the outcry against the impropriety of waltzing would soon cease. nothing can be more delicate than the way in which a german holds his partner. it is impossible to dance on the flat foot unless the lady and gentleman are quite free of one another. his hand, therefore, goes no further round her waist than to the hooks and eyes of her dress, hers, no higher than to his elbow. thus danced, the waltz is smooth, graceful, and delicate, and we could never in germany complain of our daughter's languishing on a young man's shoulder. on the other hand, nothing is more graceless and absurd, than to see a man waltzing on the tips of his toes, lifting his partner off the ground, or twirling round and round with her like the figures on a street organ. the test of waltzing in time, is to be able to stamp the time with the left foot. the waltz is of german origin, but where it is still danced in germany in the original manner, (as, for instance, among the peasants of the tyrol,) it is a very different dance. it is there very slow and graceful; the feet are thrown out in a single long step, which turveydrop, i presume, would call a _jeté_. after a few turns, the partners waltz alone in the same step, the man keeping the time by striking together his iron-shod heels, until with a shout and clapping of hands he again clasps his partner and continues in the same slow measure with her." the position for the polka, redowa, and other round dances, should be the same as that for the waltz, and for the steps, they can only be acquired from a dancing teacher, and are impossible to describe properly. one of the most delightful accomplishments which a lady can possess, and one which is unfortunately but little cultivated, is the art of reading aloud well; reading with expression, taste, animation, and correctness; and this art once acquired, let her also be able to recite well. long lectures may be given upon elocution, but the advice can be condensed into two directions. first, be sure you pronounce, accent, and enunciate every word correctly; then, throw your whole soul into the words. study your author carefully, that you may know precisely what he means by each expression, and then try to bury your personal identity, to become, for the time, the character you represent. one of the most delightful ways to spend a social evening, is to devote it to dramatic literature. invite only guests who read well, or who are really interested listeners, and select a play, or scenes from several plays, and cast the parts among your guests. all jealousy must be put aside, and to-night's hamlet must condescend to direct richard to "stand by, my lord, and let the coffin pass," to-morrow. after a few meetings, the peculiar talent of each reader will be recognized, and you can select your tragedy hero, comedy hero, queen, chambermaid, and other members of the force, with a view to the display of each one's best powers. vary the entertainment by reciting monologues and dialogues. a whole play will often be found tiresome; it is best to select several scenes, keeping up the thread of the plot, and introducing the best characters, and leave out what is mere interlude, and dispense with some of the subordinate characters. leave one end of the room entirely vacant for the readers. you will find it more interesting to have the readers stand, and use some little motion; the words will flow more easily, the expressions come more forcibly if the appropriate gesture is made. love scenes will, of course, require delicate handling, and embracing can be easily omitted; neither would i recommend the action of a dueling scene, or a murder, but merely to add gesture enough to give interest to both readers and audience. you will find some little difficulty from bashfulness, and the "don't like to" people at first, but soon you will discover with delight how many of your friends possess the talent for reading well, and never knew it themselves. you will do well to take a few lessons in elocution, but you need not fear to read if you have never made the accomplishment a study. with a correct knowledge of your own language, and a love for fine writing, you will soon read well. give to every part you undertake, the full effect intended by the writer. do not throw all your energy, your whole soul, into a leading part at one time, and slight a subordinate character at another. if you have but five words to read, read them as they would be spoken were you the character you represent for the time. to hear a splendidly written, tragic burst of passion read in a weak, whining voice, is no worse than to have a few simple words from a servant's lips delivered with the gesture and emphasis suited to a medea or lady macbeth. i shall be condemned by many serious and well-judging persons, if i say one word in favor of private theatricals; yet, as it appears to me, there are in these diversions some advantages which are not to be found to excuse the waltz, or the polka, or the ballet, or the hunting field. in private theatricals there is the possibility of _some_ benefit. the study of the finest dramatists, especially of shakespeare, is not likely to demoralize the mind, or to cool the enthusiasm for what is good. we can scarcely know too well those works which have tended more to form character than any collection of any kind whatsoever. shakespeare, sheridan, bulwer,--but i cannot go through the list of fine dramatic writers whose works elevate the mind and taste. the plays of sheridan, knowles, and bulwer, are, in most instances, well adapted for private representations--the most exquisite delineations of female character may be found in the dramatic library, and high, pure, manly thoughts, may be traced, line after line, to the same source. private theatricals should, however, be regulated with much judgment. i see no reason to restrict too severely talent of this kind where it exists, any more than to crush a dawning taste for the other fine arts. what we have to do is to raise and direct it; never to let it occupy too much time, nor to become the business of life; never to let it infringe upon duties; never to allow it to lead us into an unreasonable, and, therefore, criminal expense. our ancestors were content to strew their stage at the end of their halls with rushes, and to hang up the name of the scene, instead of a scene, before each act. the best preparations, which generally render private theatricals both laborious and expensive, add but little to the pleasure of the beholders, whose attention is fixed upon the actors, and who can always see far finer scenes at a minor theatre than at any private theatricals. were we content with greater simplicity in our amusements, how much vain ostentation, heart-sickening expense, self-recrimination, and trouble, might be avoided! as a valid objection to private theatricals, it has been urged that they are apt to encourage a taste for the green-room of the public theatre in young men and boys; in women the risk is less, for few women are ever known to go on the stage except from necessity. i own this objection to theatricals is the greatest that can be urged. it can only be answered in mitigation that, where there exists a taste of the kind, it is better that it should be indulged at home, instead of at the theatre, with the modest inmates of a well-governed house, instead of with professional actors. like all other amusements, the abuse is probable, but the power of restraint rests within ourselves. under the same head as private theatricals may come dramatized charades and proverbs, so much in fashion at the present time. these last have some great advantages over the standard plays; they are better suited to a parlor; they do not provoke comparison between the young actors, and the favorite public idols; they require but little scenery and arrangement; they are short; and they do not require so many subordinate characters. impromptu charades and proverbs are delightful, and are the occasion for much merriment; the mistakes, the absurd contrasts between character and costume, the scenery--a deep, hanging wood, the court of louis quatorze or the deck of a man of war, being improvised at a moment's notice, only add to the merry enjoyment. one rule you must observe if you join in these amusements: never to carry your gayety into romping. merry and laughing you may be, yet never forget you are a lady. you may personate a newly-caught irish chambermaid, use the broadest brogue, wear the commonest dress, throw yourself heartily and thoroughly into the part, losing your personal identity almost entirely, and yet you may retain that nameless charm, which will place you in the mind of each of the audience as a lady of refinement. you must also be perfectly good-natured and self-sacrificing; ready to play the smallest parts with the same interest you would throw into the principal ones. try to throw out all the good points in the parts taken by the other members of the company. if you play an insignificant part, play it well, with all the grace you can, make the most of it, but do not try to raise it to the first place. yield gracefully the prominent position to those who claim it in the plot of the play, and never try by conspicuous dress or by play, to go beyond the position set down for you. another delightful accomplishment, and one which will aid you if you are studying drawing and painting, is that of arranging _tableaux vivants_. mrs. severn gives the following hints upon this subject: "perhaps there is no intellectual amusement in fashionable life, the nature of which is so little understood, as the _tableau vivant_; it being generally considered as only a vehicle for display, whereas its real purpose is to arrange scientifically a combination of natural objects, so as to make a good picture according to the rules of art. "a _tableau vivant_ is literally what its name imports--a living picture composed of living persons; and, when skilfully arranged and seen at a proper distance, it produces all the effect of a real picture. it is said, that the first living picture was contrived by a profligate young german nobleman, who having, during the absence of his father, sold one of the celebrated pictures belonging to the old castle, which was an heir-loom, to conceal the deficiency, placed some of his companions behind the frame, so as to imitate the missing picture, and to deceive his father, who passed through the room without being conscious of his loss. "a _tableau vivant_ may be formed in two ways: it may consist of a group of persons, who take some well-known subject in history or fiction to illustrate, and who form a group to tell the story according to their own taste; or, it may be a copy, as exact as circumstances will permit, of some celebrated picture. the first plan, it may be easily imagined, is very rarely effective; since, as we find that even the best masters are often months, or even years, before they can arrange a group satisfactorily on canvas, it is not probable that persons who are not artists should succeed in making good impromptu pictures. indeed, it has been observed, that artists themselves, when they have to arrange a _tableau vivant_, always prefer copying a picture to composing one. "copying a real picture, by placing living persons in the positions of the figures indicated in the picture, appears, at first sight, an easy task enough; and the effect ought to be easily attained, as there can be no bad drawing, and no confused light and shade, to destroy the effect of the grouping. there are, however, many difficulties to conquer, which it requires some knowledge of art to be aware of. painting being on a flat surface, every means are taken to give roundness and relief to the figures, which qualities of course are found naturally in a _tableau vivant_. in a picture the light is made effective by a dark shadow placed near it; diminished lights or demi-tints are introduced to prevent the principal light appearing a spot; and these are linked together by artful shades, which show the outline in some places, and hide it in others. the colors must also be carefully arranged, so as to blend or harmonize with each other. a want of attention to these minute points will be sufficient to destroy the effect of the finest picture, even to those who are so unacquainted with art as to be incapable of explaining why they are dissatisfied, except by an involuntary liking or disliking of what they see. "the best place for putting up a _tableau vivant_ is in a door-way, with an equal space on each side; or, at least, some space on both sides is necessary; and if there is a room or a passage between the door selected for the picture and the room the company is to see it from, so much the better, as there should be a distance of at least four yards between the first row of the spectators and the picture. it must be remembered that, while the tableau is being shown, nearly all the lights must be put out in the room where the company is assembled; and, perhaps, only one single candle, properly placed, in the intervening space between the company and the tableau, must be left slightly to illuminate the frame. in the above-mentioned door-way a frame, somewhat smaller than the original picture, must be suspended, three, four, or even five feet from the floor, as may suit the height of the door; or, if the door is not very high, the frame may be put one or two feet behind, to gain space; but care must be taken to fill up the opening that would, in that case, show between the door-way and the frame; also a piece of dark cloth ought to be put from the bottom of the frame to the ground, to give the appearance of the picture hanging on the wall. the most important thing is, that the chairs or tables ought to be placed behind the frame, so that the persons who are to represent the tableau may sit or stand as nearly in the position, with regard to the frame, as the figures appear to do in the real picture they are trying to imitate, and at about two feet from the frame, so that the light which is attached to the back of the frame may fall properly on the figures. in order to accomplish this, great study and contrivance are required, so that the shades may fall in precisely the same places as in the original picture; and sometimes the light is put on one side, sometimes on the other, and often on the top; and sometimes shades of tin or paper are put between the lights and the tableaux, to assist in throwing a shadow over any particular part. the background is one of the most important parts, and should be made to resemble that of the picture as nearly as possible; if it is dark, coarse cloth absorbs the light best; but whether it is to be black, blue, or brown, must depend on the tint of the picture; should the background be a light one, colored calico, turned on the wrong side, is generally used. if trees or flowers form the background, of course real branches or plants must be introduced to imitate those in the picture. even rocks have been imitated; and spun glass has often successfully represented water. a thin, black gauze, black muslin, or tarlatan veil, should be fastened to the top of the frame, on the _outside_ of it, through which the tableau is to be seen. "care ought to be taken to conceal the peculiarities of the different materials used in the draperies, and it is even sometimes necessary to cover the stuffs used for the purpose with a gauze of a different color, so as to imitate the broken and transparent colors found in most good pictures. this, carefully attended to, will give a quietness and simplicity to the whole, which will greatly add to the illusion." the next subject upon the list of accomplishments, should be filled by some words upon fancy sewing. under this head will come--crochet, knitting, tapestry work, embroidery, chenille work, netting, canvas work, berlin wool work, frame work, braiding, bead work, etc. small social gatherings will be much more entertaining, the time will pass much more quickly, and the conversation flows more freely if the fingers are employed with some light work. pretty presents--nay, beautiful ones--may be made in this way, when the fingers would otherwise be idle, and these will have an additional value in being the work of your own hands. from the most remote ages needlework has been, not only a source of pecuniary advantage for poor women, but also of pleasant pastime for the rich. it is one of the most elegant of the imitative art, and from time immemorial it has been an amusement for otherwise idle fingers, from the cottage to the palace. i have not space for a long disquisition upon the uses and pleasures of fancy work; every woman has moments when such pretty playwork will be a valuable recreation. the taste for fancy work increases daily, and can be made not only ornamental, but useful. a ladies' wardrobe consists of so many, and such varied objects, that the evenings of an entire winter may be spent in making various useful garments, which are, at the same time, suitable for company sewing. opera hoods, wool shawls, sleeves, sontags, and other ladies' articles, may be varied by embroidering smoking caps, slippers, or handkerchiefs for gentlemen. embroidering on canvas, or tapestry work, opens a large field for taste and skill in execution. beautiful articles for presents, chair covers, sofa cushions, slippers, may be worked in the otherwise idle moments spent in familiar society, and the fingers will soon acquire skill and astonishing rapidity. the german ladies have constantly on hand a piece of netting or other fancy work, which they carry from place to place, and take out when conversing; and so far from entirely engrossing their thoughts, they chat more readily and freely with their fingers thus employed. american ladies will find the custom worth imitating. many tedious hours will be smoothly, pleasantly passed, with the mind free, but the fingers pleasantly occupied. an evening passed in sewing or knitting, with one good reader to entertain the industrious workers, will be found very pleasant. i have known a circle of young people meet every week to work in this way, the reader being changed twice or three times in the course of the evening, and these meetings have proved so pleasant, that scarcely any member failed to plead "prior engagement" if invited out upon the evening appointed to read and sew. it was formerly objected by the adversaries to mental cultivation in women, that the acquirement of book learning would make them neglect needlework; but so far from this being the case, the present, which is often called the age of learning, is preëminently a working age. never were fingers more actively engaged than those of the rising female generation; braiding, embroidery, berlin work, knitting, netting, and crochet, are all in full play. a long neglected work has been recently revived, called by the french "la frivolité." it is very pretty evening work, partly because it does not impede conversation, for it may be carried on almost without looking at it, and partly because no other work shows to so much advantage the grace and delicacy of the hands. the most simple form of this work was anciently known under the name of tatting, but that only consisted of a series of loops in a straight line, which were used for trimming linen articles, and which was not so pretty as la frivolité, which has varieties which are a good imitation of point, and may be used for collars and sleeves. i give a few specimens of pretty work for evening sewing, and refer the reader to "the ladies' handbook of embroidery," published by g. g. evans, for a full, complete description of every kind of fancy work, with specimens, patterns, and clear, plain directions. netted cuffs--these cuffs are very pretty, and easy to make. they are in plain netting, and will require white, and five shades of scarlet wool. set on thirty-five stitches of the white wool. net five rows, then take a mesh a very little larger, and widen by netting two stitches in every stitch. then net with the smallest mesh the two lightest shades, one row of each, and two rows of the other three shades. then graduate the shades back again to white, narrowing the first row of white with the larger mesh. net ten rows with the smaller mesh, widen again, repeat the shades of red, narrow again, and finish with the five rows of white. knitted opera cap. materials required--half an ounce of white and half an ounce of shaded berlin wool will be sufficient. cast on a hundred stitches with white wool, and knit and pearl alternately for four rows. _shaded wool_--knit one row plain; next row bring forward, and take two together to the end. _white wool_--knit and pearl alternately four rows. _shaded wool_--knit plain six rows. _white wool_--knit a row, decreasing it by taking the first two stitches together, and the last two. pearl a row. knit a row, decreasing it as before. pearl a row. _shaded wool_--knit a row, decreasing at the beginning and end. next row, bring forward and take two together to the end. _white wool_--knit a row, decreasing at both ends. pearl a row. knit a row, decreasing as before. pearl a row. for the pattern in the centre of the cap. shaded wool--_ st row_--slip one. knit two plain stitches (_a._) wool forward. knit one. wool forward. knit two together. knit one. knit two together. repeat from (_a._) _ nd row_--pearled. _ rd row_--slip one. knit two plain stitches (_b._) wool forward. knit three plain stitches. wool forward. slip one. knit two together. pass the slipped stitch over the knitted ones. repeat from (_b._) _ th row_--pearled. _ th row_--slip one. knit two plain stitches, (_c._) wool forward. knit two together. knit one. knit two together. wool forward. knit one. repeat from (_c._) _ th row_--pearled. _ th row_--slip one. knit two plain stitches (_d._) wool forward. slip one. knit two together. pass the slipped stitch over the knitted ones. wool forward. knit three plain stitches. repeat from (_d._) _ th row_--pearled. repeat the last eight rows. _white wool_--knit and pearl alternately for four rows; decrease at the beginning and ending of the two plain rows. _shaded wool_--knit one plain row; decrease at the beginning and ending. next row; bring the wool forward, knit two together to the end of the row. _white wool_--knit and pearl alternately for four rows; decrease at the beginning and ending of the two plain rows. knit eighteen plain stitches, run a piece of cotton through the remaining sixty-two stitches. pearl and knit alternately, decreasing at the beginning and ending of every plain row, until you have four stitches remaining; cast them off; then take up eighteen stitches on the opposite sides, and work a piece to correspond; leaving forty-four centre stitches on the cotton. take up the centre stitches on a needle pointed at both ends, draw the cotton out; then pick up fourteen stitches at each end of the needle. _shaded wool_--knit two plain rows. _white wool_--knit one plain row. next row; wool forward, knit two together to the end of the row. _shaded wool_--knit two plain rows and cast off. join the two points together at the back of the cap. fold the front at the first pattern row, and hem it to form the scallop at the edge. pick up eighty stitches at the back of the cap. an economical point collar. it is well known that worked muslin collars, particularly if the work is good, very soon wear out; as the work is too heavy for the muslin, which, when it has been washed two or three times, becomes full of slits and holes, though the work is still as good as ever. when this is the case, cut the muslin off the work with a pair of sharp scissors, and lay the work on the pattern of a collar cut in paper, so as to fill the whole of the pattern. the work may be taken from two or three collars; the arrangement of it must depend upon taste. when the cut-out work is properly arranged, it must be tacked or basted to the paper pattern; and this is best done with colored thread, that no mistake may arise when the basting threads are to be drawn out. four or six threads are then drawn from one piece of work to another, with a needle and cotton, so as to attach them together, and the loose threads are then overcast like button-holes, so as to imitate the uniting threads of point lace. when well done, with a sufficient quantity of the uniting threads, to make the work firm, these collars are handsome, and will wash and wear well. knitted veils. it is now customary to knit white veils of what is called lady betty's wool, for babies to put over their faces when they are carried out in cold weather, instead of pocket-handkerchiefs, which were formerly used for the purpose, though they were very unfit for it. knitted veils in black silk or worsted are also worn by grown-up persons. the veils for babies are very simple in their construction; they consist of oblong pieces of knitting of any width and depth that may be required, with knitted lace at the bottom and sides, and a string case at the top. the following pattern is the most common: knit and pearl alternately four rows, so that there may be two of each; then bring forward and take two together an entire row. this pattern is repeated through the entire veil; and it must be observed, that as many stitches must be cast on as will make it of the necessary width. the needles should be of the smallest size, of bone. any lace will do; but the following pattern, though not new, is both pretty and suitable; and has, besides, the important recomendation of being very easy. cast on eleven stitches and knit a row plain, then begin the pattern. _ st row_--knit three; bring forward and take two together; knit one, take two together; put the thread twice round the needle, take two together, and knit one. _ nd row_--knit two, pearl one, knit one, put the thread twice round the needle, take two together, bring forward, and knit five. _ rd row_--knit three, bring forward, take two together, knit one, bring forward, knit two, pearl one, bring forward, take two together, and knit two. _ th row_--knit two, bring forward, knit five, bring forward, take two together, knit five. _ th_ row--knit three, bring forward, and take two together, knit the rest plain. _ th row_--cast off four, and knit the rest plain. hints to crochet-workers. examine carefully the form of the needle, and _try_ the hook, to ascertain that it is perfectly smooth. some are so sharp and ill-made as to tear the cotton. select those which are not of uniform thickness up to the hook; the best are those which are thinner there than an inch farther up. where the needle is not proportionally fine near the hook, it is almost impossible to keep the work even. chain stitch ought to be done rather loosely, as working on it afterwards contracts it, and is apt to give it a puckered appearance. it is often advisable to use a needle one size larger for making the chain than for the rest of the work, especially in edgings. it will be found much easier to work the succeeding rows when this precaution is taken. crochet needles should be kept in a housewife similar to those used for ordinary needles. the slightest soil or rust should be effaced with fine sandpaper. ornamental net for the hair. take two pieces of fine silk braid, scarlet or royal blue, and a no. bone crochet hook. make a chain of eight stitches, unite the ends, and then d. c. the first round, putting two stitches into each loop; there will now be sixteen stitches and in the next round one long must be worked into every stitch, and two chain between each long; the round will now consist of forty-eight stitches, and we commence the pattern, or diamonds. _ rd round_--three long, two chain, four long with two chain after each, and these long put into every second loop; repeat. _ th round_--five long, two chain, five long with two chain after each, and these long put into every second loop with the exception of the fifth or last of them, which must skip two stitches instead of one; repeat. _ th round_--seven long, two chain, seven long with two chain after each, and each of these long put into every second stitch; repeat. _ th round_--five long, two chain, five long with two chain after each, and each of these long put into every other stitch, three long, two chain, five long again with two chain after each, and each put into every second stitch; repeat from beginning. _ th round_--three long, two chain, five long with two chain after each and worked in every third loop, five long, two chain, five long again with two chain after each, and these long worked as aforesaid in every third loop; repeat from beginning. _ th round_--one long, two chain, five long with two chain after each and these long put into every third stitch, seven long, two chain, again five long, &c. &c.; repeat from beginning. _ th round_--six long with two chain after each and work in every third stitch, (five long, twelve long with two chain after each, these long put in every third stitch); repeat the pattern in brackets. _ th round_--nine long with two chain after them, these long being worked in every second loop, (three long, two chain, nineteen long with two chain after them, and the long worked in every second loop); repeat the pattern in brackets. _ th, th, and th rounds_--a long and two chain all round, and the long being worked alternately in every second and third loop; care being taken to bring one into the position to complete each diamond as it is come to. a crochet edging, begun with braid, and the last two or three rows worked with gold twist as nearly the size of the braid as may be, and a cord and tassels, finish off this elegant head-dress. the cord should be run in and out through the thirteenth round. we, however, prefer a single-crochet band of some fifty stitches long and six or eight wide, worked in the same material as the net, to a cord, and this band may be finished off with a piece of gold fringe instead of tassels at the ends, or with a scallop of edging crocheted in gold twist. dress glove bands; full or frilled shape. take three pieces of fine embroidery chenille, and a no. bone crochet hook. make a chain of about forty stitches, or one long enough to go round the wrist; dc one row. _ rd row_--two long, one chain and miss a stitch--repeat this all along. then one row dc. _ th row_--long crochet worked _very_ loosely, so much so as to leave these stitches _at least_ half an inch high; two stitches to be put into every second or third loop and one in each of the others all the way along; fasten off. join the chenille now on to the first row, and work a similar row or frill to the one just directed, so that there be one on each side. run a narrow velvet through the holes of the third row and affix wider velvet ends, or chenille tassels to each extremity. finish off with a button and loop, and flute the frill on each side over the finger to make it set. we need scarcely say that the chenille used should be selected to match or agree with the evening dress, and that the velvet must match the chenille. these bands may be made to look very handsome by working a row of dc loosely and evenly along the edge of each frill with gold or silver twist, and running a band of gold or silver braid or trimming through the holes in the third row instead of velvet. then small bullion tassels to match the twist will form a suitable and elegant finish. these bands may be worked round and slid over the hand like muffatees, or made open as we have directed and buttoned, like the glove. the buttons should be covered with crochet, and the loops crocheted. knitted under habit shirt. three ounces of three thread white fleecy wool. pair of no. bone knitting pins. cast on forty-five stitches. knit three rows. _ th row_--knit ten; Ã� make two and knit two together; knit one; Ã� knit the last six stitches. _ th row_--knit, dropping the second of each of the two made stitches all along. knit eight rows. _ th row_--knit ten; Ã� make one and knit two together Ã� repeat until six remain; knit three; make one; knit three. _ th row_--knit six; Ã� make one and knit two together Ã� repeat until ten remain, which knit. repeat these two rows three times more each, only not enlarging one (as in the end of row fourteen), _every_ time, but only once in four rows, merely knitting the six in the intervening rows. _ nd row_--knit. knit the next seven rows. _ th row_--same as _ th_. _ st_ row--same as _ th_. keep on alternately knitting eight open, and then eight knitted rows, and enlarging one stitch at the end in every fourth row until there are a hundred and twenty-four rows. then decrease one stitch at the beginning or front in every other row for thirty-two rows, still continuing the pattern as before, and still enlarging one stitch in every fourth row, at the end or back. this shapes one side of the neck. now knit forty-eight rows without increase or decrease at either end, continuing the pattern or alternation of eight open and eight plain knitted rows. this forms the back of the neck and the bottom of the back of the habit-shirt. in the next thirty-two rows we diminish one in every fourth row, by knitting two together at the back, while at the same time in every fourth row, at the back, we knit two together, and make one in order to form a series of holes, or pattern parallel to that on the other side caused by enlarging in every fourth row. we also cast on one, at the opposite end, in every other row, to shape the second side of the neck. we then knit one hundred and twelve rows, having each ten knitted stitches in the front of the habit-shirt, as on the opposite side, and six at the back, and decreasing one in every fourth row, at the back, and continuing the pattern, and also the series of holes at the back. knit eight rows. knit ten stitches, Ã� make two and knit two together; Ã� knit six at end. knit all, dropping the second of each of the two made stitches. knit two rows; cast off. now, with same needles, pick up the stitches all along the right front of the habit-shirt; knit two rows and cast off. do the same on the left front. then pick up those of the neck, and do the same, shaping it, if necessary, by knitting two together occasionally. these finishing-off rows look pretty done in pale pink or blue wool. button-holes may be made thus:--in the front or where the ten stitches are, and about once in thirty rows, knit three; cast off four; knit three instead of knitting the ten as usual. next row, when we get back to the ten stitches, knit three; cast on four; knit three. infant's knitted socks. half an ounce of white lamb's wool. three no. knitting needles. cast on thirty stitches. _ st row_--knit. _ nd row_--knit two; make or enlarge one stitch by picking up one from the previous row and knitting it; knit all the rest. _ rd row_--knit. repeat second and third rows alternately four times more each of them. _ th row_--knit two; make a stitch according to directions above given; knit rest until four remain; knit two together; knit two. _ th row_--knit. repeat these two rows alternately three times more each. _ th row_--knit two; enlarge one as before directed; knit rest until two remain; enlarge one; knit two. _ st row_--knit. repeat these two rows alternately three more times each. _ th row_--knit. _ th row_--knit fourteen stitches, and leave the other upon the needle. take up the third needle and knit twenty rows more, of fourteen stitches each. _ th row_--knit two together; knit twelve; on same needle, and with same wool, cast on twenty-seven stitches. _ th row_--knit. _ st row_--knit two; knit two together; knit rest until four remain; knit two together; knit two. _ nd row_--knit. repeat these two rows alternately twice more each. _ th row_--knit two; make one in manner directed; knit rest until four remain; knit two together; knit two. _ th row_--knit. repeat these two rows alternately three times more each. _ th row_--knit all until four remain; knit two together; knit two. _ th row_--knit. repeat these two rows alternately four more times each. _ th row_--knit. _ th row_--cast off. this completes the slipper portion of the sock. we now begin the instep-piece. take the wool and knit off ten stitches from the needle on which the twenty-seven stitches were left; knit these ten from the toe-end, or that where the twenty rows of fourteen stitches each has been made; leave the remaining seventeen stitches still on the same needle. knit twenty rows of ten stitches, and in every other one pick up the edge-stitch of the toe-piece and knit it with the tenth stitch, so as to unite these two portions, viz: the toe and the instep. with each stitch of the twentieth row, an edge-stitch of the side at the toe-end of the slipper must be picked up, knitted and cast off, and a neat and entire union of the toe of the slipper and the instep piece formed. this instep piece is to be ribbed in rows of four, viz: four rows in which the plain side is uppermost, and four rows in which the pearled side is uppermost. we now commence the leg portion of the sock. with the needle which has been left in the first side of the slipper carefully pick up the edge-stitches all along the instep-piece and side of the slipper; when this is done, there should be about fifty on the needle. take the wool and knit all along, including the picked up stitches, and the seventeen originally on the needle. knit two rows. _ th row_--knit two; Ã� make two (not by picking up, but in the ordinary way, by passing the wool twice over the needle), and knit two together; knit one; Ã� repeat. _ th row_--knit all; casting off one of each of the double made stitches. now knit twenty rows ribbed like the instep-piece. _ th row_--Ã� knit one; make one and knit two together; Ã� repeat all round. _ th row_--knit. _ th row_--knit two; Ã� make one and knit two together; knit one; Ã� repeat. _ th, th, and st rows_--knit. _ nd row_--cast off. take a wool needle, thread it with wool, and sew up the sock neatly, stitch for stitch, from the top of the leg to the point of the sole; then sew the toe; turn it; put on a little rosette of raveled wool; run a ribbon in and out through the holes at rows and , of the leg portion, and it is completed. as this is intended for an infant's sock, we have ordered white wool, that being most useful; should it, however, be wished to knit socks for an older baby, the slipper may be made of cerise, scarlet, pale blue, green, or straw-colored wool; and the th, th, and th rows, of the leg portion, and the casting-off done in the color of the slipper; while the instep-piece and the rest of the sock are made in white wool. the sock may also be enlarged by casting on extra stitches in the beginning, and adding a couple of rows to each of the divisions of the slipper part, and enough to the toe to preserve its form and symmetry. almost any of the open anti-maccassar patterns may be used for knitting the sock and instep-piece, if a light lace-like appearance is desired. the well-known rose-leaf pattern looks particularly pretty. chapter xxii. servants. an english writer, speaking of servants, says:-- "there is no question but that we should seek to perform _all_ our duties without hope of recompense; and yet, as regards our treatment of servants, we should be especially careful that, in endeavoring to make their bodily comfort and mental improvement an object of consideration, we do not allow ourselves to dwell on the hope of gratitude or affection from them in return. many have done so, and having, with that view, been tempted to accord unwise indulgences and to overlook serious faults, they have found that, far from gaining the love of their servants, they have incurred their contempt; and when they have perceived that their favors, unappreciated, have led but to new encroachments, they have hardened their hearts and rushed into an opposite extreme. then they have considered their servants as mere machines, from which labor must be extorted by all available means. "a man servant is rarely grateful, and seldom attached. he is generally incapable of appreciating those advantages which, with your cultivated judgment, you know to be the most conducive to his welfare. do you accord to him regular hours, a stated allowance of work; do you refrain from sending him out because it is wet and he is unwell; do you serve yourself rather than ring for him at dinner time; he will rarely have the grace to thank you in his heart for your constant consideration. hear him! he will thus describe a comfortable place:--'there were very few in the family; when they went out of a night, we made it up of a morning; we had nice hot suppers, and the cook made a good hash for breakfast, and we always got luncheon between that and dinner; and we were all very comfortable together, and had a friend in when we liked. master swore at us sometimes, but often made us a present for it when he had been very violent; a good-hearted man as ever lived, and mistress was quite the lady, and never meddled with servants. it was a capital place!' "servants' sympathies are with their equals. they feel for a poor servant run off his legs, and moped to death; they have no feeling for a pains-taking mistress, economical both from principle and scanty means; they would (most of them) see her property wasted, and her confidence abused without compunction. it is the last effort of a virtue in a servant if, without any _private reason_, he should discharge his duty by informing you of the injury which you are enduring at the hands of his fellow servant. it is an effort of virtue, for it will bring down many a bitter taunt and hard word upon his faithful head. '_i_ never got a servant out of a place by telling tales on him,' will be said to him. directly a servant departs, we all know, tongues, tied before, are loosed, to gain our favor by apparent candor. when it can avail us nothing, we are told. we all know this, and have said, 'be silent now, you should have mentioned this at the time.' supposing, then, you have the _rara avis_, the servant that 'speaks at the time,' be chary of him, or let me say _her_, (the best servants are women.) oh! as you value her, let her not suppose you cannot part with her. treat her with confidence, but with strict impartiality; reprove when necessary, mildly, but decidedly; lest she should presume (power is so tempting), and compel you, if you would retain your freedom, to let her go. "there is one thing a man servant values beyond all that your kindness and your consideration can do for him--his liberty; liberty to eat, drink, and be merry, with your things in the company of his own friends; liberty to get the housemaid to clean his candlesticks, and bring up his coals; and the housemaid wishes for liberty to lie in bed in the morning, because she was up so late talking to john in the pantry; liberty to wear flounces and flowers. the cook desires liberty too. for this liberty, if you grant it, they will despise you; if you deny it, they will respect you. aim at their esteem; despair of their love or gratitude; make your place what the best class of servants will value, and, though in their heart, they may not thank you for it, you will gain, perhaps, one servant out of twenty who will keep gross imposition and gross immorality at bay. "these remarks can never be intended to deny the warm attachment of female servants to the children of their employers. deep love, no doubt, is lavished by many a woman on the babe she has nursed. there is a great deal to be said on the chapter of nurses which would require to be dealt with by itself. much wisdom is required in the administration of a nursery, to which few general rules would apply. cruel is the tyranny the nurse frequently practises on the parent, who often refrains from entering her nursery, not from want of love to her children, but positive dread of the sour looks which greet her. let her be firm, let no shrinking from grieving her darling, who would 'break his heart if his nanna went,' deter her from discharging the encroaching servant. "i know a lady who was quietly informed by her nurse that she must have a 'specified hour' for visiting her children, for that her entering without ceremony was most inconvenient. the poor young lady, who was fully persuaded her delicate infant would die, if removed to a stranger's hands, meekly obeyed, and though tortured by the cries of the poor sickly baby, never dared to intrude lest the nurse should abandon it. this is a true history, and the sequel may as well be given: that the nurse remained seven years, at the end of which time, having become insupportable, though really devoted to the children, she gave warning, and, though it cost her mistress bitter tears and much resolution, she was suffered to depart, and then peace entered that house. "on the choice of servants much of the comfort of the young housekeeper depends. it often happens that her choice has been determined by appearance rather than the value of character. if such be the case, she will have many difficulties to encounter. it is, in the present day, hardly safe to take a servant if there be a single objection to character, however it may be glossed over by the person referred to on this point; for there is now an unhealthy disposition to pass over the failings of servants who have left their places, and to make them perfect in the eyes of others. in respect to sobriety, many people will not acknowledge that a servant had had the vice of drinking, but will cover the unpleasant truth in such gentle and plausible terms that it becomes difficult to comprehend how far the hint is grounded, or not. be assured when a lady or gentleman hesitates on this point, or on that of honesty, it is wiser not to engage a servant. nor are you deviating from christian charity in not overlooking a dereliction of so material a sort. the kindest plan to the vast community of domestic servants is to be rigid in all important points, and having, after a due experience, a just confidence in them, to be somewhat indulgent to errors of a more trivial nature. "if all young housekeepers were strict upon the subject of dress, much misery to servants would be saved, much temptation avoided, and self-reproach prevented. instead of this kind, and wise, and matronly particularity, a type of the good, old-fashioned common sense of our grandmothers, ladies now countenance their ladies'-maids in discontinuing caps, or, if they have caps, in wearing flowers and lace, flowered gowns, and other items of little apparent moment in detail, but of much importance to a community as serviceable to the public when well managed and respectable, as they are odious and noxious when immoral or insolent. after these cruel indulgences, ladies marvel when they find servants rise above their station and that they will not bear even a mild reproof; they wonder that a plain, useful servant is nowhere to be met with. there is now no medium between the fine lady with mittens and flowers who dresses your hair, and the dirty sloven of a lodging-house. all housemaids must now be upper housemaids; cooks must be cooks and housekeepers. the homely housemaid--that invaluable character in her way--is indeed difficult to be found; and, at a time when cleanliness is at its zenith, the rarity is to discover any one who will clean. all, except the raw country girl, expect to have deputies; and, if we go on to perfection in this unhealthy system, we shall soon have no working servants above twenty years of age. the consequence is, that a greater number of servants are kept in every household than formerly in similar families; many of these menials are corrupted by congregating together and by idleness. the loud and crying complaints of the worthlessness of this class are but too justly founded. that they are more mercenary than ever, is owing to the pernicious system which lifts them up above their condition, but fails to elevate them in the moral standard. in the scale of virtue they sink every day lower and lower; in the outward attributes they are, as they consider it, raised in character and improved in appearance. "but is it so? the beauty of every thing is fitness. is the half-fine, unlady-like, yet lady-like creature, who answers to your dressing-room bell, half so respectable as the old-fashioned, plainly dressed, careful, homely maiden of your young days? is it not with a feeling of disgust that you turn from the attempted finery, and sigh for plain collars, and caps undecked by flowers, again? i think, among the best-bred, the most sensible, and, indeed, the most highly born people of a superior stamp, this disgust is so strong that, in some families, a grave and suitable costume is introduced for the female servants, and the effect is satisfactory, both on the appearance and on the mode of thinking of these persons. but this wise, and therefore kind plan, is far from being general; and i have heard that a lady's-maid complained to her mistress that she found herself the subject of ridicule, owing to her not wearing silks, and indeed satins, as the other ladies'-maids did. "it becomes the duty of ladies of influence to rise above the silly vanity which, i fear, affects some of them, of seeing their ladies'-maids as smart as ladies, and to oppose innovations on the decencies of society, so pernicious to the class upon whom much of our comfort depends. in setting out in life, a young married lady ought to be more than ordinarily strict in these matters, for her inexperience will certainly be taken advantage of to some extent. if she be rich enough to have a housekeeper, let her endeavor to select one of strict religious faith, plain in attire, grave, but kind, and of good sense, and even intelligence; for cultivation of mind will never, whatever may be stated, detract from the utility of a servant. it is absurd to attribute to the diffusion of knowledge the deterioration of servants; it is rather owing to the scanty amount of knowledge among them. most superficial is the education about which so much is said and written; were servants more thoroughly grounded in many branches of knowledge, they would be wiser, less rapacious, more systematic, and better contented than they are. they are wretched reasoners, generally losing sight of their own true interest, and grasping at that which is unreal and visionary. if they were better educated, this would not be the case; they would be less vain, less credulous; they would know what qualities to respect; they would weigh better the advantage of their lot; and they would work better as servants. they would give mind, where now they only give hands; and their acquirements, taken from school as they are in very early youth, are not ever likely to be such as to make the routine of their work distasteful to them, from over refinement or cultivation. "it is always desirable to have, if possible, servants of one faith. but if it so happens that you have a roman catholic servant and a protestant in your service, you are bound to allow each the free exercise of her religion, and you ought not to respect them if, out of interest, they will conform to yours. an exercise of authority on this point amounts, in my opinion, to an act of tyranny, and it can only tend to promote insincerity, and, perhaps, engender scepticism in its object. nothing is, indeed, so dangerous as to unsettle the faith of the lower classes, who have neither time nor opportunity of fairly considering subjects of religious controversy. "while on the subject of servants, i must deprecate the over-indulgence of the present system towards them. formerly they were treated with real kindness, but it was the kindness that exacted duty in return, and took a real interest in the welfare of each servant. the reciprocal tie in former times between servant and master was strong, now it is wholly gone. the easy rule of masters and mistresses proceeds far more from indifference than from kindness of heart; for the real charity is to keep servants steadily to their duties. they are a class of persons to whom much leisure is destruction; the pursuits of their idle hours are seldom advantageous to them, and theirs are not minds which can thrive in repose. idleness, to them, is peculiarly the root of all evil, for, if their time is not spent in vicious amusements, it is often passed in slander, discontent, or vanity. in writing thus, i do not recommend a hard or inconsiderate system to servants. they require, and in many instances they merit, all that can be done to alleviate a situation of servitude. they ought not to be the slaves of caprice or the victims of temper. their work should be measured out with a just hand; but it should be regularly exacted in as much perfection as can be expected in variable and erring human nature. "another point on which i would recommend firmness is that of early hours. in this respect example is as important as precept; but, however uncertain you may be yourself, i would not relax a rule of that kind. for every comfort during the day depends upon the early rising of your servants. without this, all their several departments are hurried through or neglected in some important respect. "your mode of address to servants must be decisive, yet mild. the authoritative tone i do not recommend. it is very unbecoming to any young person, and it rarely attains the end desired; but there is a quiet dignity of deportment which few servants ever can resist. this should be tempered with kindness, when circumstances call it forth, but should never descend to familiarity. for no caution is more truly kind than which confines servants strictly to their own sphere. "much evil results from the tendency, more especially of very young, or of very old mistresses of families, to partiality. commonly, one servant becomes the almost avowed favorite; and it is difficult to say whether that display of partiality is the more pernicious to the servant who is the object of it, or to the rankling and jealous minds of the rest of the household. it is true that it is quite impossible to avoid entertaining a greater degree of confidence in some servants than in others; but it should be shown with a due regard to the feelings of all. it is, of course, allowable towards those who take a decidedly responsible and confidential situation in a household. still, never let such persons assume the reins of government; let them act the part of helmsman to the vessel, but not aspire to the control of the captain. "it is generally wise and right, after a due experience of the principles and intentions of servants, to place confidence in their honesty, and to let them have the comfort of knowing that you do so. at the same time, never cease to exercise a system of supervision. the great principle of housekeeping is regularity; and without this (one of the most difficult of the minor virtues to practice) all efforts to promote order must be ineffectual. i have seen energetic women, clever and well-intentioned, fail in attaining a good method, owing to their being uncertain in hours, governed by impulse, and capricious. i have seen women, inferior in capacity, slow, and apathetic, make excellent heads of families, as far as their household was concerned, from their steadiness and regularity. their very power of enduring monotony has been favorable to their success in this way, especially if they are not called upon to act in peculiar and difficult cases, in which their actual inferiority is traceable. but these are not the ordinary circumstances of life. "in closing these remarks on the management of servants, let me exhort you never to forget that they are fellow-laborers, in the life of probation, with ourselves; let us not embitter their lives by harshness, or proffer to them temptation from carelessness and over-indulgence. since all that is given us of this world's goods is but in trust, let us regard our servants as beings for whose conduct, while under our control, we are more or less responsible. it is true that, if they come to us with morals wholly depraved, it is not likely that the most strenuous exertions can amend them; but many waver between good and evil. let us endeavor to excite in their minds a respect for virtue, to give them motives for industry, inducements to save their wages. those who have large households should not deem the morals of the meanest of their servants beneath their investigation, or too obscure for their influence to reach." some attention is absolutely necessary, in this country, to the training of servants, as they come here from the lowest ranks of english and irish peasantry, with as much idea of politeness as the pig domesticated in the cabin of the latter. opening the door seems a simple act, yet few servants perform it in a proper, respectful manner. let your servant understand that the door must be opened immediately after the bell rings. visitors, from neglect of this rule, will often ring several times, and finally leave the door. i have known an instance when in a case of severe illness the patient lost the visit of the doctor, who, after ringing some minutes, was obliged to pay other visits, and could not return to the sufferer's house until several hours later. when opening the door some servants hold it ajar and hold a long parley with the person on the steps, as if afraid they wished to enter for the purpose of murder or theft. train them to answer the door promptly, speak politely to any one who may be there, excuse you, if necessary, to visitors in courteous terms, or, if you are in, show the callers into the parlor, take their card, and come back quickly with your answer. chapter xxiii. on a young lady's conduct when contemplating marriage. the following chapter, met with in a recent perusal of an english work for young ladies, strikes me as so admirable, and so appropriate in this place, that i quote the chapter entire: "the difficulties and trials of life have only just begun when a young lady fancies herself to be of sufficient importance to become the theme of animadversion. she knows little of the true importance of self-control, until she experiences the first indications of preference shown her by the other sex. "such indications are often manifested, whilst she to whom they are directed, is wholly unprepared to analyze her own feelings, before her opinions upon what she has seen are by any means developed; before she has even considered adequately, on what her happiness depends; before she has discernment to reject what is frivolous, or wisdom to prefer what is good. this is more especially the case in the highest and lowest classes, in which, by a strange analogy, they either rush into the marriage state whilst children, or wait until the bloom and hopes of youth have forever passed away, in order to form interested matches. the matured period of five-and-twenty to thirty, is passed by the lower classes in the single state in labor to gain subsistence; after thirty, or even forty, we often find them marrying. but the majority have sealed their own fate before the age of twenty. "in high life, the same haste to dispose of daughters prevails as among the lowest classes. at seventeen, most of our belles of fashion expect to receive proposals. if they do not marry within a few years after their introduction, they have a mortified sense of having lost time--that the expectations of friends and of parents have not been fulfilled; that others have 'gone off' before them. the next ten years are often a period of subdued vexation, and the sweetness and contentment of the original character is impaired. about seven or eight and twenty, the views of life are sobered--the expectations chastened--a renovation takes place--women again become agreeable; their minds must in the lapse of time, even with a miserable store of observation, have improved. they then often marry--and, if the union be not a mere effort of despair, if it be based on sound and holy principles, and on good sense, there is, for both parties engaged, a great likelihood of happiness. "but, it may be naturally contended, that there come not to _all_ young ladies the opportunities of which i write; that indications of preference arrive not to all. i am inclined to believe that, with good temper, pleasing manners, and respectable connections, there exists, in modern society, very few young ladies who have not received under various circumstances, some marks of preference, more or less decided. beauty and plainness are arbitrary, not positive, terms. unless there be any actual deformity, any great infirmity, in which case i think it were cruel to pre-suppose the likelihood of such indications, there is no one, that i hardly ever met with, who has not had, on some grounds, her partizans and admirers. the plain are often particularized as elegant; tastes vary: even a sour look i have heard admired as sensible, cold manners eulogized as correct. opinion, however it may generally verge to the correct, springs from so many sources, it is so governed by association of ideas, such trifles may guide it, that i am never surprised at the latitude given to personal encomium nor at the endless variety and incongruity of human judgment. it is well that all have a chance of being approved, admired, beloved, and it remains for them to avail themselves of those possibilities which contribute so much to happiness. for we are sympathizing beings, and a law of our nature makes us look for a return of sympathy. we are sent here to form ties, and to love, and to be loved, whether the term applies to parental, or filial, or fraternal love--or whether it respects the less sure and more fitful experiences of love, in its ordinary sense. "i do not blame the parents who instil into their children of both sexes a desire to be married. i think those who teach the young a different lesson deceive them. marriage, with all its chances, its infelicities, its sacrifices, is seldom so infelicitous, so uncertain, so full of sacrifice, as the single state. life must have some objects, and those objects must be progressive. the mind is happier and healthier with such interests, even if sorrow comes along with them, than in its solitude, its desolate freedom from care, when having, as the phrase is, no troubles of the conjugal sort to disturb its tranquillity. i therefore do not censure those who desire to see their daughters happily and suitably established in life. it is the indiscreet and vulgar haste, the indelicacy, the low mercenary views, and the equally low ambition to compass a splendid match, which is blameable and revolting in the parental conduct. "many are, however, blessed with guides and guardians of very different characters; with parents, whose lofty natures not only reject such unworthy notions, but somewhat incline to the extreme of repelling all advances for their daughters. in either case, the conduct of a young lady may be the same. it is she who must form her own destiny in points on which none can effectually aid her. it is she who is to be the happy wife, or the wretched victim; and it is to her that these observations of admonition and of warning are addressed. let us suppose her young, of course, attractive in appearance, of good birth, and some fortune. i here except heiresses, who, being anomalies, deserve a particular paragraph for themselves. but let us suppose that no obstacle of family or connection interferes to check the approach of a suitor. "the eyes of her family and of her young friends are upon her, when a young lady receives the first indications of preference. she is generally ashamed of it. this is the first sentiment of a modest and ingenuous mind, and it is one indication, in my opinion, of the impropriety of early marriages. nature seems still to wish to keep the young and blushing girl apart from that connection which entails grave and arduous duties. but nature's voice is far less often heard than that of her adversary, expediency. i must, therefore, shape my injunctions to that which exists, not to that which we would wish to exist. "almost sinking under this painful sense of shame, this novel disturbance of her usual set of feelings, a young girl catches at the first reed to save herself from observation and detection. i mean detection of her perception of that which others may or may not see. she seizes upon ridicule. she pretends to laugh at one, whom sometimes her youthful romantic fancy dwells upon in a very different sense. she laughs at the foibles, supposed or real, of her admirer: she plays a dangerous game. if any of those to whom she imparts her witticisms are malevolently disposed or thoughtless, she runs a risk either of wounding the feelings of a man whom she does not like, or of losing the regard of one whom she might in time not only esteem, but love. "another effect of such attentions as awaken a consciousness in a young lady's mind, is the gratification of vanity, perhaps until then latent in her heart. the first preference is apt to upset the reason of its object as of him who shows it. the word vanity does not seem to imply danger. vanity is generally considered an innocent failing; but it is innocent only as some kinds of food are to a healthy subject. on a weak, or even on an inexperienced mind, it acts, sometimes, fatally for the vain. a girl is either carried away by admiration so as to be flippant and foolish, or she is blinded by her vanity to the failings of the man who first admires her. she is intoxicated with the notion of an offer of marriage; she imagines, in her simplicity, effervesced as it is by the infusion of flattered vanity, that she has inspired such an attachment as will never be recovered, should she prove adverse to it. many an engagement has been formed under this conviction, and fulfilled only to prove its fallacy, for the love which was supposed too strong to survive disappointment, has expired in the fruition of its hopes. "to guard against either of these risks to happiness, a well-educated girl should endeavor, in this, to exercise her judgment. she should be sincere. she is blameable to ridicule the attentions which are meant as complimentary to her. they ought to be at least regarded with respect. "should they not be acceptable, she is inexcusable to requite them with levity and disdain. let her reflect how she would like such conduct herself. besides, she is often making a bitter enemy; perhaps she is exciting fierce and unamiable sentiments in one who otherwise might have been regarded as a mild and worthy individual. let her be undeceived if she supposes that in thus doing she is carrying herself with dignity, or acquiring any added admiration from others. she ceases, in thus acting, to support the characteristics of a gentlewoman, which are mildness, courtesy, and reserve. if she cherishes, in spite of her pretended disgust, a secret partiality for the individual who distinguishes her, if she is lowering the esteem of a man whom she prefers, she not only incurs the hazard of losing his regard, but she is scattering ridicule on one whom she afterwards avows as her choice. in that case, she is lowering herself, or she is sowing the seeds of distrust in the minds of those who know her--she is, perhaps, frustrating and delaying her own happiness. let her act with candor, with consideration, with good sense, and all this web which her folly would weave around her will not embarrass her. let her not madly and obstinately resist the advice of those on whose affection to her, and on whose good judgment, experience has taught her to rely. let her be a child in nothing except humility; let her listen to counsels; yet her own heart must decide for her--none can know so well as herself its secret throbs, or the impression of dislike or of regard which has been made upon it. "i am, i confess, an enemy to trying to like a person, as i have rarely seen such a mental process end in happiness to either party. if an advantageous proposal offer itself, it is wiser decidedly to refuse it, than to trust to the slow growth of affection, upon a foundation of original dislike. and the trials of married life are such,--its temptations to irritability and contention are so manifold, its anxieties so unforseen and so complicated, that few can steer their difficult course safely and happily, unless there be a deep and true attachment, to contend with all the storms which may arise in the navigation. "deeply impressed with this conviction, should it be the lot of any young lady in whom i were interested to form a real, well-grounded attachment to a man whose circumstances were indifferent, i should counsel her, provided she can depend on the character and exertions of the object so beloved, to risk the event of an engagement--to trust to time and providence, and to marry whenever means were afforded,--convinced as i am, that patience, and trust, and true affection, raise the character, and are acceptable in the eyes of our heavenly father. but in such a case, she must school her mind to meet the anxieties which attend limited means. she must prepare herself, by habits of diligence and economy, to become a poor man's wife. she must learn the difficult art of doing well upon a little. she must not, be she in any rank of life, think to indulge with impunity to herself in every refinement and luxury when she is single; and, upon her marriage, imagine that she can attain the practice of economy by wishing it. such metamorphoses are out of reason--out of nature. she must endeavor before the bond which ties her to poverty is framed, to understand the duties of housekeeping, the mysteries of needle-work. she must lay down to herself rules of expenditure suitable, in part, to her future condition in life. many a wife, thus commencing, has laid the foundations of future fortune, at least independence, to her husband, by keeping his mind at peace, during his progress up the steep ascent to professional, or clerical, or literary fame. many a home has been cheered by domestic forbearance, and placid submission to circumstances, even in the higher classes, during the life-time of a father, or in the course of those long expectancies, in which the fortitude and principle of many of the aristocracy are tried and proved. but the self-denial, the cheerfulness, the good management, the strict principle, are formed at an earlier period than that in which a young lady gives her hand to him whom she has chosen, in spite of the frown of fortune, as her husband. "of this let the young be assured; there are few situations in life, in which a man, young, and in health, cannot meliorate his circumstances, if he possess energy and if he be stimulated by a true affection. the clergyman, with humble stipend, often hopeless from want of interest, has leisure--he has had education. he may, if he desires to assist himself, have recourse to literary labor, or to tuition. if he make not such exertion, during the course of an engagement, what hope can there be of him in future life? "the young lawyer, however tedious his advancement, however few his opportunities, may also distinguish himself in a literary career. innumerable are the subjects open to one of such a profession. how few avail themselves of the chance! upon this rely, the man truly in love will make the effort. to the military man, though perhaps he may be less qualified, the same course is open, in a degree. some of our best travels, some of our most amusing literary productions, have been the compositions of military men. and the advantage of this mode of aiding a small fortune is, that a man not only does not lower, but he raises his position by it, if his works are moral, written in a gentlemanly spirit, and affording information. however deep the attachment, however agreeable the object, if a man be indisposed to help himself to independence and competence, i should counsel no woman to continue an engagement formed in the expectation of 'times mending.' when i advocate the indulgence of attachment, it is to worthy, not to unworthy, objects. "i now come to speak of moral character. hard is the contest between affection and expediency, when it is raised by the question of circumstances. but harder still is it, when its result is to be decided upon an inquiry into moral conduct. i know not a more cruel situation than that when the heart is bestowed on one whom the judgment could not approve. i know not one which should be more strictly guarded against, not only by parents and friends, but (for i would impress on every young lady how much she may prove the best guardian of her own happiness) by the female heart itself. "with every vigilance, with little to blame, little to repent, such cases will occur in this world. the feelings are interested, but the judgment distrusts. happy is it for those who know the combat between affection and principle only in single life, and have not the misery of encountering so severe a destiny when it can no longer be remedied--who know not how to fulfill the vow to honor what is proved to be unworthy--and yet still must love,--for the affections once given, are little in our own power. "in such a case occurring to the young, in, perhaps, a first attachment, i think they must be guided by friends. i am _not_ an advocate for the interference of friends: where it is much a question of a long and contingent engagement--a question of being married at once, or of waiting, in some uncertainty--a question of ease or discomfort, of limited means or luxury--in such instances, if the moral character be unexceptionable, it is the duty of parents to point out all the risk, all the disadvantages, but to leave the heart to form its own decisions. let them not seek to wrench the affections from the channel in which they flowed, when fresh from their source. they cannot know how deep the channel is--they cannot know if ever those pure and beautiful waters will flow in peace again when once hastily turned aside. but in cases of moral character, of right or wrong, the affair is wholly different, and the strictest parental authority ought, upon due inquiry, to be exercised. "submission and self-control are then the duty of the young sufferer--for a sufferer she truly _is_;--no page of her after-history could unfold a bitterer pang. but peace and hope come at last--the struggle, though violent, leaves behind it none of that corroding sorrow, which would have accompanied the acquiescence of parents in a union unblessed by a providence, whose will is that all should be pure, even as he above is pure. had your fond wishes been granted, young and trusting being, how fearful would have been your condition! for there is no suspicion so revolting to an innocent mind as that which unseats love from his throne in our affections, and places another in his stead. be assured of this--little can you know of the moral conduct of the other sex; little is it desirable that you should know. but whenever improprieties are so flagrant as to be matters of conversation; when the good shun, and the pitying forbear to excuse; be assured some deeper cause than you can divine exists for the opprobrium. think not that your empire over affections thus wasted can be a real one. it is transient, it will not last--it will not bring reformation--it will never be adequately requited. throw yourself on the judgment of those whose interest in you has been life-long, or of such as you know truly regard your happiness; conquer the unhallowed preference; pray for support and guidance; trust in him who 'catereth for the sparrow.' "but, when the commencement of life is chilled by so cruel a sorrow--when the blight has fallen on the bud--we must not only look up to heavenly aid, we must take every means of care for an unfortunate, and, when once the judgment is convinced of the unworthiness of the object, a blameable attachment. how often, in the psalms, in the gospels, the word 'help' is reiterated! we are to help ourselves--we must work for our heavenly peace on earth--the mental discipline, to prosper, must be aided by divine grace, but its springs must be from our own hearts. and, to fulfill the will of god in this, as in the other events of life, let us take such means as may aid us in the work of self-government. "in the first place, let employment be resorted to by the sorrowing, do not indulge in tears; do not sit alone: abstain, for a time, from music; abstain from the perusal of poetry, or works of imagination. they still more soften the feelings and open up the sources of grief. read works of _fact_--endeavor to occupy yourself with the passing events of the world. and, when the overburdened heart cannot be comforted, or its thoughts diverted--for there will be moments too mournful to be resisted--go forth into the fields, go to the houses of the poor--see the goodness and mercy of god--see too, the patience and long-suffering of the poor, who may often set the rich an example of fortitude. occupy yourself, if you can, with children; their freshness, their joyful unconsciousness, the elasticity of their spirits, will sustain and draw you from yourself, or have recourse to the soothing calmness of the aged. hear them converse upon the affairs of life; how they appreciate the importance of each passing event, as a traveler does the ruts and inequalities of the road he has traversed. how their confidence in the effect of time sustains you! and you turn from them, reflecting on all that the happiest of them must necessarily have endured. be assured of your own recovery, under an influence so certain. "avoid young persons of your own age. if possible, except to a sister, whose deep interest in you will probably teach her a superior lesson, never confide in young friends, a similar trial as that to which i have referred. in general, your resolution will be weakened, your feelings re-excited, your confidence in your best advisers will be shaken. for the young usually take the part of the rejected lover--they delight in that dangerous species of sympathy which flatters with hope. they are naturally incredulous as to the delinquencies of a man who is agreeable, and in love; they incline to the notion of the hard-heartedness of fathers, uncles, and elder brothers; and even, if they happen to possess good sense, or to exercise the rare quality of prudence in such matters, the very communication of any sorrow, or the recital of any feelings, gives not only a merely temporary relief, but deadens that sorrow and strengthens those feelings, which grow every time they are imparted. if you wish to recover--and, if you have a sound and well-disposed mind, you _will_ wish to recover--you must, after the first burst of grief is over, speak but rarely of a theme too painful and delicate to bear the contact of rude minds--too dangerous to dwell upon with those of a kindlier and loftier nature. "to your female relations--to your mother, more especially, too great an openness cannot be practiced on these points, but openness does not imply a perpetual recurrence to a theme, which must wear out patience and exhaust all but maternal sympathy, in time. for maternal sympathy is exhaustless; be generous, and restrain, from that very reflection, the continual demand upon its flow. the first person to consult, the last to afflict--a mother--should not be the victim of her daughter's feelings. her judgment should not be weakened by the incessant indulgence of a daughter's sorrows. "i would, on many grounds, caution the young against hasty engagements. it seems extraordinary that the welfare of a life should often be determined upon the acquaintance of a few weeks. the principles, it is true, may be ascertained from the knowledge of others, the manners may please, the means and expectations may all be clearly understood. but the temper--that word of unspeakable import--the daily habits, the power of constancy--these are not to be known without a long and severe examination of the motives, and a daily observation of the conduct, of others. very little suffices to mar the happiness of married life, if that little proceed in the character of a man, from a rooted selfishness. "it is true, in regard to this defect, that much may be done by a wife to meliorate a vice of character which is, in some, only the result of never having had their feelings developed. but if there exist not this excuse--if, in spite of ties, which are dearer to an affectionate mind than existence; you find a man preferring his own comfort to that of those whom he professes to love--if you find him imperious to his servants, dictatorial to sisters, on cool terms with brothers, there is little hope that the mental disease will ever be rooted out, so as to leave a healthy character of mind. examine well into this point; for a hasty temper may be remedied, and even endured--but the deep, slow, sullen course of a selfish nature wears away hope, imparts a cankering care, and, with it, often disgust. no defect is so little to be resisted as selfishness. it creeps into every detail; it infects the minutest affairs of life as well as the greatest concerns. it depresses the humble sufferer from its baneful effects; it irritates the passions of the unamiable. study well the character in trifles; nor venture to risk your bark on the sea of matrimony, unless you know well how far this man, whom you might prefer, is free from this deadly infection. view him, if possible, in his home, before you pledge your faith with his--or, if that be not practicable, reflect upon the general course of his actions, of his sentiments, and endeavor dispassionately to judge them, as best you may." chapter xxiv. bridal etiquette. in preparing a bridal outfit, it is best to furnish the wardrobe for at least two years, in under-clothes, and one year in dresses, though the bonnet and cloak, suitable for the coming season, are all that are necessary, as the fashions in these articles change so rapidly. if you are going to travel, have a neat dress and cloak of some plain color, and a close bonnet and veil. avoid, as intensely vulgar, any display of your position as a _bride_, whilst traveling. take, first, the weddings at church. in this case none are invited to the ceremony excepting the family, and the reception is at the house of the bride's mother, or nearest relative, either on the wedding-day or upon her return from the bridal tour. in sending out the invitations, let the card of the bridegroom and that of the bride be tied together with a white ribbon, and folded in the note paper upon which is printed the name of the bride's mother, with the date of the reception-day, thus:-- mrs. john saunders. at home, thursday, oct. th, from till . no. , ---- st. of course the hours and dates vary, but the form is the same. if there is no bridal reception upon the wedding day, the cards are worded:-- mr. and mrs. james smith. at home, wednesdays, on, and after, june th. no. , ---- st. tie the card with the bride's maiden name upon it to this one. enclose the invitation in a white envelope, and tie it with white satin ribbon. if you send cake, have it put in a white box, and place the note outside the cover, tying it fast with white satin ribbon. the bride's dress must be of white entirely. if she is married in the morning, a plain white silk, white mantle, and white bonnet, full trimmed with orange flowers, with a plain veil, is the most suitable dress, and she may wear a richer one at her reception, when she returns from her bridal tour. as soon as the carriages come, let the bridesmaids, and relatives set off first.--last, the bride with her parents. the bride, her parents, and the bridesmaids go immediately to the vestry, where they meet the bridegroom, and the groomsmen. the father of the bride gives her his arm and escorts her to the altar, the bridegroom walking on the other side. then follow the bridesmaids and groomsmen in couples. when they reach the altar the bridegroom removes his right hand glove, but the bride keeps hers on until the clergyman takes the ring. the first bridesmaid then removes the left hand glove, and it is not resumed. the bridesmaids should wear white dresses, white mantles, and bonnets, but not veils or orange flowers. the bride and groom leave the church first, after the ceremony is over, and take the carriage with the parents of the bride, and the others follow in the order in which they came. if there is a breakfast or morning reception, the bride will not change her dress until she retires to put on her traveling attire. if the wedding takes place in the evening at church, to be followed by a full dress reception at home, the bride should wear a white lace dress over satin, or any other material to suit her own taste, a veil, falling from her head to her feet, fastened to the hair by a coiffure of orange flowers; white kid gloves, and white satin slippers. a bouquet, if carried, should contain only white flowers. the bridesmaids may wear white, or some thin, light-colored material over white, a head-dress of flowers, and carry bouquets of mixed flowers. when the wedding takes place at home, let the company assemble in the front drawing-room, and close the doors between that and the back room. in the back room, let the bride, bridegroom, bridesmaids, and groomsmen, the parents of the bride, and the clergyman, assemble. the clergyman should stand in the centre of the room, the bride and groom before him, the bridesmaids ranged beside the bride, the groomsmen beside the bridegroom. then open the doors and let the ceremony begin. this arrangement saves that awkwardness attendant upon entering the room and taking the position before a large company. after the ceremony is over, the parents of the bride speak to her first; then her near relatives, and not until then the other members of the company. it is not usual now to have dancing, or even music, at a wedding, and the hour is named upon the cards, at which the guests are expected to retire. a very pretty effect is produced in the wedding group, if the bride wears pure white, and the bridesmaids white, with flowers and trimmings of a different color. thus, one in white, with a head-dress and trimming of green leaves; another, white, with blue ribbons and forget-me-nots; another, white, with pink roses and ribbons. if the wedding is in the morning, the bride and family may wear full dress; in that case the shutters should be closed and the rooms lighted as in the evenings. let the supper be laid early, and ready when the ceremony is over, that the guests may pass into the dining-room, if they wish, as soon as they have spoken to the bride. if a morning wedding, let the table be set as for an evening wedding. if the bride gives a reception at her own house, after her return from her bridal tour, she should not wear her wedding-dress. if in the evening, a supper should be set. if a morning reception, let her wear a handsome light silk, collar and sleeves of lace. wine and cake are sufficient to hand to each guest at a morning reception. at an evening reception let the bride wear full dress, but not her wedding-dress. at parties given to a newly married couple, the bridesmaids and groomsmen are always invited, and the whole party are expected to wear the same dresses as at the wedding. chapter xxv. hints on health. the universal remark of travelers visiting america, as well as the universal complaint of americans themselves, relates to the ill health of the fairer portion of the community. look where you will, go to any city in the vast union, the remark and complaint will be made everywhere. with every natural advantage of climate, yet from north to south, east to west the cry resounds. foreigners, admiring the dark-eyed girls of the southern states or the blondes of the northern ones, will remark, with comments upon beauty:-- "but she looks delicate, poor thing!--not strong? ah! i thought not, none of the american women are, and how soon these young beauties fade!" it seems to me, amongst the subjects treated of in my present work, that a few words on health will not come amiss. "light and sunshine are needful for your health. get all you can; keep your windows clean. do not block them up with curtains, plants, or bunches of flowers;--these last poison the air, in small rooms. "fresh air is needful for your health. as often as you can, open all your windows, if only for a short time in bad weather; in fine weather, keep them open, but never sit in draughts. when you get up, open the windows wide, and throw down the bed-clothes, that they may be exposed to fresh air some hours, daily, before they are made up. keep your bed-clothes clean; hang them to the fire when you can. avoid wearing at night what you wear in the day. hang up your day-clothes at night. except in the severest weather, in small, crowded sleeping-rooms, a little opening at the top of the window-sash is very important; or you will find one window pane of perforated zinc very useful. you will not catch cold half so easily by breathing pure air at night. let not the beds be directly under the windows. sleeping in exhausted air creates a desire for stimulants. "pure water is needful for your health. wash your bodies as well as your faces, rubbing them all over with a coarse cloth. if you cannot wash thus every morning, pray do so once a week. crying and cross children are often pacified by a gentle washing of their little hands and faces--it soothes them. babies' heads should be washed carefully, every morning with soap. no scurf should be suffered to remain upon them. get rid of all slops and dirty water at once. disease, and even death, is often the consequence of our own negligence. wash your rooms and passages at least once a week, use plenty of clean water; but do not let your children stay in them while they are wet, it may bring on croup or inflammation of the chest. if you read your bibles, which it is earnestly hoped you do, you will find how cleanliness, both as to the person and habitation, was taught to the jews by god himself; and we read in the th chapter of nehemiah that when they were building their second temple, and defending their lives against their foes, having no time for rest, they contrived to put off their clothes for washing. it is a good old saying, that _cleanliness is next to godliness_. see heb. x. . "wholesome food is needful for your health. buy the most strengthening. pieces of fresh beef and mutton go the farthest. eat plenty of fresh salt with food; it prevents disease. pray do not let your children waste their pennies in tarts, cakes, bull's eyes, hardbake, sour fruit, &c., they are very unwholesome, and hurt the digestion. people would often, at twenty years of age, have a nice little sum of money to help them on in the world, if they had put in the savings' bank the money so wasted; cocoa is cheaper and much more nourishing than _tea_. none of these liquids should be taken _hot_, but lukewarm; when hot they inflame the stomach, and produce indigestion. "we are all made to breathe the pure air of heaven, and therefore much illness is caused by being constantly in-doors. let all persons make a point, whenever it is possible, of taking exercise in the _open air_ for at least an hour and a half _daily_. _time_ would be saved in the long run by the increased energy and strength gained, and by the warding off of disease." let it not be supposed that it is not the duty of every young lady to take due care of her health, and to preserve in all its power of utility every portion of vigor which has been bestowed on her. with many young ladies, it appears to be a maxim to do everything in their power to destroy the health which is so much wanted in the real business of life, and which forms so important a requisite to happiness. in the first place, as to hours--they never leave the ball-room until utterly exhausted, and scarcely fit to crawl to bed. the noon-day sleep, the scarcely touched breakfast, that most important meal, are followed by preparations for the succeeding night's pleasures, or in head-aching morning calls, driving about in a close carriage, or lounging on a sofa, in an over-heated room, reading novels. dressing follows; the warm wrapper or dress is thrown aside; over the tightly drawn corsets is fastened a flimsy dress, with an inch of sleeve; the neck laid bare; thin stockings drawn on, in place of thick ones, and the consumption-seeker goes forth to the ball-room again. "at times, you miss from the gay assemblage some former ornament--you inquire about her--she has taken cold. inflammation of the lungs, caught it in an accidental draught of air by one of these fair half-dressed beings, carried off, not long since, one of the gayest and fairest of the belles of the season--after an illness of three days. "preservation of the health ought, from an early stage of existence, to be enforced as a duty upon the young. to walk daily; to have daily recourse, in summer, even twice a day, to the sponging with cold water, or the shower-bath;--to eat sufficiently of plain, nutritious food; to keep the mind calm--these are _duties_;--they should be habitually exercised. care should be taken not to come out heated, with a shawl just pinned across the shoulders, from a heated room. where there is delicacy of the lungs or windpipe, yet not sufficient to render a withdrawal from evening parties necessary, the use of a respirator at night is desirable. it is usual to have recourse to this valuable invention only when disease is actually existing--as a preventive, it is neglected. yet, preserving the temperature of a warm room, it is an excellent precaution, and can easily be assumed when the shawl or cloak is put on. the atmosphere of a city is destructive where there is any pulmonary delicacy, and who shall say, where there is _not_ pulmonary delicacy? in this climate, there is a tendency to it, more or less, in almost every family,--at all events, it is too easily induced in our predisposed constitutions, by cold, aided by the debilitating effect of heated rooms and an artificial mode of existence, and accelerated also, most decidedly, by bared shoulders. for, in this climate, it is scarcely ever safe to lay bare that portion of the frame, the back and chest in which the lungs are seated; and, although custom may greatly lead to diminish the injurious effects, the sudden chill may strike, and may never be recovered. "during every season, certain people have 'head colds,' coughs, and 'feverish colds.' these are produced by certain states of climate acting on certain states of constitution. at particular seasons such complaints abound--at others they abound still more; and again, from some singularity, they prevail so much that people say, there is an _influenza_. "influenza has been long known in the world. it has often visited europe; and made its appearance on our shores with greater severity than at present. it has sometimes been very severe, and left many persons ill for a year or two. "the symptoms of influenza need not be dwelt on, as they have been so generally felt by our readers or their friends. it varies in different people, to be sure, both in kind and in degree. considering the number of people it attacks, it may be looked on as an innocent disease; but, on the other hand, looking at the increase it has made in the number of deaths, it is an exceedingly serious one after all. "in simple cases--confinement to a pure and temperate air, warm drinks, and a warm bath, or, at least, a warm foot-bath, with an extra blanket, and a little more rest than usual, keeping to mild food, and toast and water, and taking, if necessary, a dose of aperient medicine,--is all that is required. in serious cases, the domestic treatment must become professional. mustard plasters to the back relieve the headache. squills find other medicines 'loosen' the outstanding cough. bark and wine, and even cold baths are sometimes requisite for the weakness left behind. but these things can only be used with discrimination by a regular professional man. "supposing that the seeds of disease have not been laid in childhood, and that there is no particular predisposition to any malady in the constitution, a young woman enters life with every fair prospect of enjoying tolerable health;--yet, how variable, and delicate, and complaining, do the majority of women become! what a vast expense is incurred, during the course of their lives, in physicians, medicine, change of air, baths abroad and at home, and journeys! how few women can walk,--or can suppress nervous feelings,--or can eat like reasonable beings: how many suffer, or say they suffer from debility, headaches, dyspepsia, a tendency to colds, eternal sore throats, rheumatic attacks, and the whole list of polite complaints! with all our modern wisdom, with all our books on health, our smatterings of physiological science, our open carriages, sponging baths, and attention to diet, women now are a far more feeble race than our grandmothers, or even our mothers, were. what daughter can walk half as far as her mother can? what young woman can take the active part that her mother did? in most families, the order of things is reversed. it is not a child trembling for her mother's health, and fearing, lest her parent, no longer young, should be fatigued; but it is the mother who is always striving to spare her child exertions which she can herself perfectly well undergo, but which the enfeebled child of modern self-indulgence dare not encounter. "yes! we are a self-indulgent race, this present generation. witness our easily excited feelings; witness our late hours of rising, our sofas and easy chairs, our useless days and dissipated nights! witness our pallid faces, our forms, sometimes attenuated and repulsive while yet in early life, age marching, not creeping, on before his time; or witness our over-fed and over-expanded forms, enfeebled by indolence, and suffering the worst species of debility--the debility of _fat_. witness our doing those things by deputy which our grandmothers did themselves; witness our host of scents and perfumed waters on our dressing-tables; our over-refinement, which amounts to an enervating puerility, and our incapacity of parting with one accustomed indulgence, even at the bidding of the learned and disinterested adviser? "'in the education of women,' writes a modern physician, 'too little attention is given to subdue the imaginative faculty, and to moderate sensibility; on the contrary, they are generally fostered; and, instead of a vigorous intellect and healthy condition of mind, we find imagination and sentiment predominant over the reasoning faculties, and laying the foundation of hysterical, hypochondriacal, and even maniacal diseases.'[b] it is, in fact, this want of judgment in the management of early life that produces so much misery when women are called upon to perform an important part in society, and when all that exertion can do is required at their hands. [b] "the sick-room," by dr. a. t. thomson. "the duration of sleep should not, in the adult, exceed six or eight hours; women injure their health greatly by excess in this respect. on rising, all women should use some mode of cold or tepid bath; and, indeed, in this respect the practice of the present day is admirable; there is every facility for the bath. to some, the use of the shower-bath is deleterious, and to all inconvenient, and not likely to be resorted to except when positively ordered. dr. combe recommends for _general_ use the tepid or warm bath, as being much more suitable than the cold bath, 'especially in the winter for those who are not robust, and full of animal heat.' when the constitution is not sufficiently vigorous to ensure reaction after the cold bath, by producing a warm glow over the surface, 'its use,' observes the same admirable writer, 'inevitably does harm.' but he enforces, that 'in order to promote a due exhalation from the skin, the warm, the tepid, or the shower-bath, as a means of preserving health, ought to be in as common use as a change of apparel, for it is equally a measure of necessary cleanliness.' he inclines to the use of the tepid bath, as likely to be the most generally efficacious. "i have known the most beneficial effects from a modification of this advice, namely, from using a sponging-bath, into which you pour a jug of warm water, and in which you stand, whilst you sponge the body and limbs profusely with cold water. a strong friction should be employed after this process, either with horsehair gloves or with a large coarse towel, and few persons will find the use of the sponging-bath disagree with them when thus employed. it is, indeed, incredible, when we consider the importance of the exhalation performed by the skin, to what extent ablution is neglected, not only, as dr. combe specifies, in charitable institutions and seminaries for the young, but by ladies, in ordinary circumstances, to whom the use of the bath could be productive of no inconvenience. in nervous complaints, which are more or less the besetting evil of womankind, the bath, in its various forms, becomes an invaluable aid. "in the formation of those habits which are necessary for the preservation of health, another circumstance, which, from its importance to health, cannot be deemed trifling should be mentioned. it is a general practice that beds should be made as soon as the occupants have left their rooms, and before the air has been freely admitted to play upon the recent depositary of the human frame; but this should be avoided. the bed-linen and blankets should be taken off, and the windows opened, so that, for an hour or more, a thorough ventilation should be procured. "upon another point, the inconsistency and mental blindness of women are almost inconceivable--the insufficiency of their dress to resist the attacks of our variable climate. how few women clothe themselves like rational beings! although, in latter years, they have wisely adopted the use of warm dresses, and, more especially, of the valuable scottish plaid, yet how commonly they neglect the aid of flannel in preserving them not only from cold, but in securing a necessary circulation of vitality in the skin! 'the necessary effect of deficient circulation in the skin,' remarks dr. combe, 'is to throw a disproportionate mass of blood inwards; and when this condition exists, insufficient clothing perpetuates the evil, until internal disease is generated, and health is irrecoverably lost.' how common is the complaint among young women, especially those of sedentary habits, of chilliness, cold feet, and other symptoms of deficient circulation! and yet how impossible would it often be--for women are usually obstinate on this head--to induce them to exchange the thin silk stocking for a warm merino one, or to substitute a proper walking shoe for the paper-like articles which they designate by that name! hence arise many diseases, which are, by insensible degrees, fostered in the system by the unequal distribution of the blood oppressing the internal organs. the habitual tendency to that chilliness which has been referred to should never be disregarded, 'laying, as it does,' says dr. combe, 'the foundation of tubercles in the lungs, and other maladies, which show themselves only when arrived at an incurable stage.' 'all those who value health, and have common sense, will therefore take warning from signs like these, and never rest until equilibrium of action be restored.' warm clothing, exercise in the open air, sponging with tepid water and vinegar, or the warm bath, the use of a flesh-brush or hair-glove, are adapted to remedy these serious and threatening evils. "but, whilst insufficiency of clothing is to be deprecated, excessive wrapping up should also be avoided. great differences exist between the power of generating heat and resisting cold in individuals, and it is therefore impossible to prescribe general rules upon the subject of clothing. the best maxim is, not to dress in an invariable way in all cases, but to put on clothing sufficient in the individual case, to protect the body effectively against the sensation of cold.[c] [c] dr. combe. "the insufficiency of warmth in the clothing of females constitutes only one part of its injurious effects. the tightness of dress obstructs the insensible perspiration hurtfully, and produces an irregular circulation. every part and function of the human frame are linked together so closely, that we cannot act wrongly towards one organ without all suffering, nor act rightly without all sharing the benefit of our judgment and good sense. "the mischief arising from cold or wet feet is admitted by all persons who have given the subject of health even the most casual consideration. in conversing with very aged people, you will generally find a disregard of diet, and very different notions and practices upon the subject of exercise and ablution; but they all agree in the necessity of keeping the feet dry. i remember inquiring of a venerable clergyman, who, up to the age of ninety-six, had enjoyed a fair proportion of health, after a youth of delicacy. i asked him what system he pursued. 'now,' was his reply, 'i never took much care what i ate; i have always been temperate. i never minded the weather; but i always took care to keep my feet dry and well shod.' wet and damp are, indeed, more unwholsome when applied to the feet than when they affect other parts; 'because they receive a greater supply of blood to carry on a high degree of perspiration, and because their distance from the heart, or centre of circulation, diminishes the force with which this is carried on, and thus leaves them more susceptible from external causes.'[d] [d] dr. combe. "god, in his infinite benevolence, has given to his creatures other means of acquiring a healthy warmth than by clothing; he has endowed us with the power of exercise--that blessing which women of weak judgment and indolent natures are so prone to neglect and disparage. most ladies appear to think that the privilege of walking is only intended for persons of inferior condition. they busy themselves, in their in-door occupations all the morning, take a hearty luncheon, and drive out in their carriages until dinner-time. it is partly owing to such customs as these that a rapid deterioration takes place in the physical state of our sex, in their looks, and in their power of utility, and enjoyment of happiness. god never intended us to be inactive. "the chief purpose of the muscles with which we are endowed, is to enable us to carry into effect the volitions of the mind; and, whilst fulfilling this grand object, the active exercise of the muscles is conducive to the well-being of many other important functions. the processes of digestion, respiration, secretion, absorption, and nutrition, are promoted, and the healthful condition of the whole body influenced. the mind also is depressed or exhilarated by the proper or improper use of muscular exercise; for man is intended for a life of activity: nor can his functions ever go on so properly as when he duly exercises those organs with which nature has endowed him. the evils arising from want of exercise are numerous:--the circulation, from the absence of due stimulus, becomes languid, the appetite and digestion are weakened, the respiration is imperfect, and the blood becomes so ill-conditioned, that when distributed through the body it is inadequate to communicate the necessary stimulus to healthy and vigorous action. these points being established, it now becomes a consideration in what mode, or at what periods, ladies, in society, can most advantageously avail themselves of that privilege which is granted to so many, denied, comparatively, to so few. "much is said on the benefits of walking before breakfast, and to a person in full vigor it may, there is no doubt, be highly salutary; whilst, to the delicate, it will prove more hurtful than beneficial, producing a sense of weariness which destroys all the future pleasures of the day. i am disposed to think, however, from observation, that walking before breakfast may be rendered beneficial almost to any one by degrees. most persons walk too far the first day; they are proud of the effort, become, nevertheless, exhausted, and dare not repeat it. a first walk before breakfast should not exceed a quarter of a mile; it should be extended, very gradually, and, in delicate women, with great care, lest over-fatigue should ensue. it is, however, so valuable a habit, such a saving of time, so refreshing, so soothing, that many sacrifices of inclination should be made to procure it; in a gay season the freshness and seclusion of a morning's walk is peculiarly needed, and when it becomes so difficult to take exercise in the subsequent part of the day, the afternoon being too short, and the evening too much occupied. and the morning's walk, stolen from the hour given to a species of repose which seldom rests, may be, without the reproach of indolence, followed by the afternoon's siesta--a practice much to be commended, and greatly conducive to rest of nerves and invigoration of the frame, when used in moderation. "exercise may be taken, by the robust, at any time, even after eating heartily, but the delicate ought to avoid that risk; they should resort to it only when the frame is vigorous enough to bear it, and this is usually from one to four or five hours after eating. the morning is, therefore, the best time; but exercise ought not to be delayed until some degree of exhaustion has taken place from want of food, as in that case it dissipates rather than renovates the remaining strength, and impairs digestion. exercise immediately before meals is therefore, unless very gentle, injurious; if it has been violent, before eating rest should intervene. 'appetite,' says dr. combe, 'revives after repose.' "of all modes of exercise, that which nature has bestowed upon us, walking, is decidedly the most salutary; and the prevailing system of substituting horse and carriage exercise almost entirely for it, is far from being advantageous to the present generation. walking, which has for its aim some pleasing pursuit, and, therefore, animates the mind, is efficacious to the majority. gardening, which is a modification of walking, offers many advantages both to the delicate and the strong, and it is a species of exercise which we can adjust to our powers. in a continued walk you must go on--you must return; there is no appeal, even if you have gone too far, and would willingly give up any further exertion. but, while gardening, you are still at home--your exertions are devoted to objects the most interesting, because progressive; hope and faith form a part of your stimulus. the happy future, when flowers shall bloom around you, supersedes in your thoughts the vexatious present or the mournful past. about you are the budding treasures of spring, or the gorgeous productions of summer, or the rich hues of those beauties which autumn pours forth most lavishly before it departs,--and is succeeded by winter. above you are the gay warblers, who seem to hail you as you mingle in the sylvan scenes which are not all theirs, but which you share and appropriate. the ruffled temper, the harassed mind, may find a solace in the occupation of gardening, which aids the effect of exercise and the benign influence of fresh air. stores of future and never-dying interest are buried in the earth with every seed, only to spring up again redoubled in their value. a lady, as a writer in the 'quarterly review' observes, should 'not only _have_ but know her plants.' and her enjoyment of those delights is truly enhanced by that personal care, without which few gardens, however superintended by the scientific gardener, can prosper, and which bless as they thrive; her plants bestow health on the frame which is bowed down to train them--they give to her the blessing of a calm and rational pleasure--they relieve her from the necessity of excitement--they promote alike, in the wealthy and the poor, these gentle exertions which are coupled with the most poetical and the sweetest of associations. "exercise on horseback is not equally attainable with the two modes which i have just specified; when it is, the accelerated circulation, the change of scene and of ideas, are highly beneficial. where the lungs are weak, it is thought by the learned to possess a great advantage over walking, as it does not hurry the breathing. the gentleness of the exercise enables a delicate person to enjoy the advantage of open air and motion for a much longer period than could be endured in the action of walking. from the tendency of horse exercise to equalize the circulation and stimulate the skin, it is invaluable, too, for the nervous and dyspeptic portion of young women, among whom, unhappily, such complaints are but too prevalent. "dancing, which is the most frequent mode of exercise with ladies in great cities, practiced, as it is, in heated rooms, and exhausting from its violence, often does more harm than good, from producing languor and over-fatigue. unhappily there are but few modes of exercise in-doors adapted for women. if, from any circumstances, they are confined to their homes, and they become feverish and languid from want of exercise, it never occurs to them to throw open the windows and to walk about, or to make use of battledore and shuttlecock, or any other mode of exertion. they continue sitting, reading, or walking, or lounging, or sleeping, or gossiping,--whilst the bloom of health is rapidly giving place to the wanness and debility of the imprisoned frame. "it is often the custom of young women to declare that they cannot walk, sometimes from indolence, no doubt, and want of habit, occasionally from real inability. but if we investigate the causes of this real inability, we shall often find it to proceed from an improper choice of time in taking exercise, or from a defective judgment in the manner of taking it. many women exhaust and fatigue themselves with the duties of their house, and by a thousand trying occupations, including that which forms a serious item in the day's work, namely, running up and down stairs, and then discover that they cannot walk. others go to extremes, and walk for a certain distance, whether they feel fatigued or not by such exertions. 'it is only,' observes dr. combe, 'by a diffusion of the laws of exercise as a part of useful education, that individuals can be enabled to avoid such mistakes,' to be beneficial, exercise should always be proportioned to the strength and to the constitution of an individual. when it causes extreme fatigue or exhaustion, it is hurtful; it ought to be resumed always after a period of rest, and adopted regularly, not, as too many persons are in the habit of doing, once in four or five days. the average walk which a young woman in good health and in ordinary circumstances, may take, without undue and injurious fatigue, is from four to five miles a-day. from this rule i except the _very_ young. it has been found by experience that until twenty-two or three the strength is not completely matured. the rate of mortality, as it has been proved by statistical tables, increases in all classes of society from fourteen until the age of twenty-three, when it begins to decrease. "another precaution which i would recommend to those who have the regulation of families under their care, relates to the subject of ventilation. the heated state of our rooms in ordinary occupation is one great source of all those mischiefs which arise from catching cold, a subject on which mr. abernethy was wont to declare, that 'a very useful book might be written.' there are some houses into which one can never enter with impunity, from the want of due ventilation. housemaids, more especially, have an insupportable objection to opening windows, on account of the dust which flies in and settles upon the furniture. this evil--for the soiling of furniture certainly may be called an evil--may easily be obviated by fastening a muslin blind against the open window, or by pinning a large piece of coarse muslin against it, so that the dusty particles will be excluded. "generally our ordinary sitting-rooms are tolerably well ventilated by the opening and shutting of doors, the size of the fire-place, &c., but in our bed-rooms the vitiation of the air is far greater, owing to these rooms being wholly closed during the seven or eight hours in which we sleep in them, and, also, owing to the mass of curtains with which we usually take care to surround our beds. in this respect we are, indeed, improved, by the introduction of french bedsteads, which are among the most valuable of modern suggestions. but, notwithstanding this improvement, and many others which reflection and science have contributed to introduce, we incur much suffering from our ignorance and prejudice on the subject of ventilation. for generations, society has experienced the evil effects of the want of ventilation, and has felt in towns its results in the form of fevers, general ill-health, cutaneous and nervous diseases; and yet the most direful ignorance continues on this subject. hospitals are among the few well-ventilated buildings which are erected, because an idea prevails that ventilation is essential for the sick, but it seems to have been forgotten that what is essential for the recovery of health is equally necessary for its preservation. 'were,' says dr. combe, 'a general knowledge of the structure of man to constitute a regular part of a liberal education, such inconsistencies as this would soon disappear, and the scientific architect would speedily devise the best means for supplying our houses with pure air, as he has already supplied them with pure water.'" chapter xxvi. miscellaneous. there are many little pieces of rudeness, only too common, which, while they evince ill-breeding, and are many of them extremely annoying, yet they are met with every day, and in persons otherwise well-bred. as they come under no particular head, they will merely be mentioned here, as habits carefully to avoid. it is rude to look over the shoulder of a person who is either reading or writing, yet it is done every day. to stand with the arms a-kimbo, the hands on the hips, or with the arms crossed, while conversing, is exceedingly unlady-like. avoid restless movements either with the hands, or feet; to sit perfectly quiet, without stiffness, easily, yet at the same time almost motionless, is one of the surest proofs of high-breeding. if you wish to make yourself agreeable to any one, talk as much as you please about his or her affairs, and as little as possible about your own. avoid passing before persons seated in the same room with yourself. if you must rise to move from place to place, endeavor to pass behind the chairs of your companions. above all, never pass between two persons who are conversing together. avoid personal remarks; they evince a want of judgment, good taste, kindness, and politeness. to exchange glances or significant smiles with a third person, whilst engaged in a conversation with a second, is a proof of low-breeding. suppressed laughter, shrugging of the shoulders, rolling of the eyes, and significant glances are all marks of ill-breeding. if you meet a gentleman at the foot of a flight of stairs, do not go up before him. stop, bow, and motion to him to precede you. he will return your bow, and run up, leaving you to follow him. never whisper, or make any confidential communication in company. keep private remarks for private occasions. accepting presents from gentlemen is a dangerous thing. it is better to avoid any such obligations, and, if you make it a rule _never_ to accept such presents, you will avoid hurting any one's feelings, and save yourself from all further perplexity. in meeting your elderly friends in the street, look at them long enough to give them an opportunity of recognizing you; and if they do so, return their salutations respectfully, not with the familiar nod you would give to one of your own age. never remain seated, whilst a person older than yourself is standing before you, talking to you. never lounge on a sofa, while there are those in the room, whose years give them a better claim to this sort of indulgence. never tease a person to do what she has once declined. never refuse a request or invitation in order to be urged, and accept afterwards. comply at once. if the request is sincere, you will thus afford gratification; if not, the individual making it deserves to be punished for insincerity, by being taken at her word. it is not polite when asked what part of a dish you will have, to say, "any part--it is quite indifferent to me;" it is hard enough to carve for one's friends, without choosing for them. it is not polite to entertain a visitor with your own family history, or the events of your own household. it is not polite for married ladies to talk, in the presence of gentlemen, of the difficulty they have in procuring domestics, and how good-for-nothing they are when procured. it is not polite to put food upon the plate of a guest without asking leave, or to press her to eat more than she wants. it is not polite to stare under ladies' bonnets, as if you suspected they had stolen the linings from you, or wore something that was not their own. never affect a foolish reserve in a mixed company, keeping aloof from others as if in a state of mental abstraction. if your brain is so full and so busy that you cannot attend to the little civilities, cheerful chit-chat, and light amusements of society, keep out of it. never read in company. you may open a book to look over the engravings, if you will, but do not attend to the letter-press until you are alone. never jest upon serious subjects. avoid scandal. if another person attempts to open a conversation upon scandalous matters, check her. say gravely that it is painful for you to hear of the faults or misfortunes of others, where your counsel and assistance can be of no service. many persons, whose tongues never utter a scandalous word, will, by a significant glance, a shrug of the shoulders, a sneer, or curl of the lip, really make more mischief, and suggest harder thoughts than if they used the severest language. this is utterly detestable. if you have your tongue under perfect control, you can also control your looks, and you are cowardly, contemptible, and wicked, when you encourage and countenance slander by a look or gesture. never speak of gentlemen by their first name unless you are related to them. it is very unlady-like to use the surname, without the prefix, mr. to hear a lady speak of smith, brown, anderson, instead of mr. anderson or mr. smith sounds extremely vulgar, and is a mark of low breeding. avoid eccentricity either in dress, conversation, or manner. it is a form of vanity, as it will attract attention, and is therefore in bad taste. never act as if in a hurry. ease of action need not imply laziness, but simply polite self-possession. never laugh at your own wit. that is the part of those who hear you, and if you take their duty from them, they may omit to join you in your laugh. do not indulge in ridicule. it is coarse and unlady-like as well as unfeeling. like every other personality, it should be carefully avoided. never handle any ornament or article of furniture in the room in which you are a visitor. do not lean your head against the wall. you leave an indelible mark upon the paper, or, if the wall is whitewashed, you give your hair a dingy, dusty look, by bringing it into contact with the lime. never lean forward upon a table. let neither hands nor arms rest there heavily. to bestow flattery upon a person to his face, betrays a want of delicacy; yet, not less so, rudely to rebuke his errors or mention his faults, and not have a tender regard for his feelings. it is not improper, and may sometimes be very kind to mention to an individual what yourself and others think of his conduct or performances, when it is for his interest or usefulness to know it. to express to a friend deserved approbation is generally proper. nothing but a quick perception of the feelings of others, and a ready sympathy with them, can regulate the thousand little proprieties that belong to visits of condolence and congratulation. there is one hint, however, as regards the former, which may perhaps be useful, and that is, not to touch upon the cause of affliction, unless the mourner leads the way to it; and if a painful effort is made to appear cheerful, and to keep aloof from the subject, do not make the slightest allusion that could increase this feeling. when at table to _press_ your guests to take more than they have inclination for, is antiquated and rude. this does not, however, prevent your recommending particular dishes to their attention. everything like compulsion is quite exploded. it is a great mistake to suppose that the best music is the most difficult of execution. the very reverse, generally speaking, is the case. music of a high order certainly demands high gifts and attainments on the part of the performer. but the gifts of nature may be possessed by the amateur as well as by the professor; and the attainments of art may be the result of moderate study and application. a young lady possessed of a sweet and tunable voice, a good ear, intelligence, and feeling, may cultivate music in its grandest and most beautiful forms, and may render its practice a source of the purest enjoyment, not only to herself but to her domestic and social circle. the various ceremonies observed in refined society are very useful in settling little points, on which there might otherwise be much doubt and perplexity; but they should never be so strenuously insisted upon as to make an accidental omission of them a ground of resentment, and an apology should always be accepted in their place. your enjoyment of a party depends far less on what you find there, than on what you carry with you. the vain, the ambitious, the designing, will be full of anxiety when they go, and of disappointment when they return. a short triumph will be followed by a deep mortification, and the selfishness of their aims defeats itself. if you go to see, and to hear, and to make the best of whatever occurs, with a disposition to admire all that is beautiful, and to sympathize in the pleasures of others, you can hardly fail to spend the time pleasantly. the less you think of yourself and your claims to attention, the better. if you are much attended to, receive it modestly, and consider it as a happy accident; if you are little noticed, use your leisure in observing others. it were unjust and ungrateful to conceive that the amusements of life are altogether forbidden by its beneficent author. they serve, on the contrary, important purposes in the economy of human life, and are destined to produce important effects both upon our happiness and character. they are, in the first place, in the language of the psalmist, "the wells of the desert;" the kind resting-places in which toil may relax, in which the weary spirit may recover its tone, and where the desponding mind may resume its strength and its hopes. it is not, therefore, the use of the innocent amusements of life which is dangerous, but the abuse of them; it is not when they are occasionally, but when they are constantly pursued; and when, from being an occasional indulgence, it becomes an habitual desire. women in the middle rank are brought up with the idea that if they engage in some occupations, they shall lose "their position in society." suppose it to be so; surely it is wiser to quit a position we cannot honestly maintain, than to live dependent upon the bounty and caprice of others; better to labor with our hands, than eat the bread of idleness; or submit to feel that we must not give utterance to our real opinions, or express our honest indignation at being required to act a base or unworthy part. and in all cases, however situated, every female ought to learn how all household affairs are managed, were it only for the purpose of being able to direct others. there cannot be any disgrace in learning how to make the bread we eat, to cook our dinners, to mend our clothes, or even to clean the house. better to be found busily engaged in removing the dust from the furniture, than to let it accumulate there until a visitor leaves palpable traces where his hat or his arm have been laid upon a table. never put temptation in a servant's way; never be severe for trifling offences, such as accidentally breaking anything, but reserve your severity for those offences which are moral evils, such as a want of truth, general laxity of principle, &c. the orders given to servants should be clear and definite; and they should be trained as much as possible to perform their duties regularly, so that every morning they may know pretty nearly what will be expected of them during the day. it is a great point to live, when you are alone, as if you expected company; that is to say, to have everything so neat and orderly that you need not be ashamed of any one seeing your table. it is very little more trouble, and certainly no more expense; and the advantages in point of comfort are unspeakable. if a foolish girl, by dint of squeezing and bracing with busk and bones, secures the conventional beauty of a wasp waist, she is tolerably certain to gain an addition she by no means bargained for, a _red nose_, which, in numberless instances, is produced by no other cause than the unnatural girth, obstructing circulation, and causing stagnation of the blood, in that prominent and important feature. often, in assemblages of the fair, we have seen noses faultless in form, but tinged with the abhorred hue, to which washes and cosmetics have been applied in wild despair; but in vain! if the lovely owners had known the cause, how speedily the effect would have vanished! for surely the most perverse admirer of a distorted spine and compressed lungs, would deem the acquisition of a dram-drinker's nose, too heavy a condition to be complied with. a well-bred woman will not demand as a right what she may have a claim to expect from the politeness of the other sex, nor show dissatisfaction and resentment if she fancies herself neglected. for want of good breeding some females are exorbitant in their expectations, and appear unthankful even when everything is done which true politeness demands. young women should guard against this unamiable defect. a well-bred person will take care not to use slang words and expressions. there never has been a time, at least in late years, when there have not been some two or three cant vulgarisms in vogue among all the blackguards of the country. sometimes these phrases have been caught up from some popular song or farce; sometimes, we believe, they have had their origin "where assembles the collective wisdom of the country." a dozen of these terse but meaningless sayings now dance before our recollection, for who has not heard them, even to loathing? but from whatever source they may have been drawn, or whatever wit there might be in their original position, the obtrusion of them into decent society is an unwarrantable piece of impertinence. a habit of inserting into familiar conversation such phrases as "you know," "you perceive," "you understand," "says he," "says she," is, so far as those matters extend, a sign of a want of good breeding. with regard to any specific rules for dressing, we do not pretend to arbitrate in such matters. let a true sense of propriety, of the fitness of things, regulate all your habits of living and dressing, and it will produce such a beautiful harmony and consistency of character as will throw a charm around you that all will feel, though few may comprehend. always consider well whether the articles of dress, which you wish to purchase, are suited to your age, your condition, your means; to the climate, to the particular use to which you mean to put them; and let the principles of good taste keep you from the extremes of the fashion, and regulate the form, so as to combine utility and beauty, whilst the known rules of harmony in colors save you from shocking the eye of the artist by incongruous mixtures. "manners," says the eloquent edmund burke, "are of more importance than laws. upon them, in a great measure, the laws depend. the law can touch us here and there, now and then. manners are what vex or sooth, corrupt or purify, exalt or debase, barbarise or refine, by a constant, steady, uniform, insensible operation, like that of the air we breathe in. they give their whole form and colors to our lives. according to their quality they aid morals, they supply them, or they totally destroy them." four important rules. "order is heaven's first law." . a suitable place for everything, and everything in its place. . a proper time for everything, and everything done in its time. . a distinct name for everything, and everything called by its name. . a certain use for everything, and everything put to its use. much time would be saved; many disputes avoided; numerous articles kept from being lost or injured, and constant confusion and disorder prevented, by the strict observance of these four important rules. dispense with ornaments altogether rather than wear mock jewelry. depend upon it, silvery hair is better adapted to the faded cheeks of middle age, than are tresses of nut-brown or coal-black, or any of the mysterious shades produced by a dirty decoction called hair-dye. the habitual use of very thin shoes invariably makes the feet tender, and a host of other inconveniences arise therefrom. if you are tempted to purchase tight shoes, don't, for several reasons; but one may suffice--you will not wear them more than twice. if you are not quite certain of the line between neatness and the reverse, be over-scrupulous about your under garments. the edge of a soiled petticoat, or the glimpse of a rent stocking is singularly disenchanting. men of sense--i speak not of boys of eighteen to five and twenty, during their age of detestability--men who are worth the trouble of falling in love with, and the fuss and inconvenience, of being married to, and to whom one might, after some inward conflicts, and a course perhaps of fasting and self-humiliation, submit to fulfil those ill-contrived vows of obedience which are exacted at the altar, such men want, for their wives, companions, not dolls; and women who would suit such men are just as capable of loving fervently, deeply, as the ringlettina, full of song and sentiment, who cannot walk, cannot rise in the morning, cannot tie her bonnet-strings, faints if she has to lace her boots, never in her life brushed out her beautiful hair, would not for the world prick her delicate finger with plain sewing; but who can work harder than a factory girl upon a lamb's-wool shepherdess, dance like a dervise at balls, ride like a fox-hunter, and, whilst every breath of air gives her cold in her father's house, and she cannot think how people can endure this climate, she can go out to parties in february and march, with an inch of sleeve and half-a-quarter of boddice. all circumstances well examined, there can be no doubt providence has willed that man should be the head of the human race, even as woman is its heart; that he should be its strength, as she is its solace; that he should be its wisdom, as she is its grace; that he should be its mind, its impetus, and its courage, as she is its sentiment, its charm, and its consolation. too great an amelioration could not be effected, in our opinion, in the system generally adopted, which, far from correcting or even compensating the presumed intellectual inequality of the two sexes, generally serves only to increase it. by placing, for example, dancing and needle-work at the extreme poles of female study, the one for its attraction and the other for its utility, and by not filling the immense interval with anything more valuable than mere monotonous, imperfect, superficial, and totally unphilosophical notions, this system has made of the greater number of female seminaries, establishments which may be compared alike to nursery-grounds for coquettes and sempstresses. it is never remembered that in domestic life conversation is of more importance than the needle or choregraphy; that a husband is neither a pacha nor a lazzarone, who must be perpetually intoxicated or unceasingly patched; that there are upon the conjugal dial many long hours of calm intimacy, of cool contemplation, of cold tenderness; and that the husband makes another home elsewhere if his own hearth offers him only silence; or what is a hundred times worse, merely frivolous and monotonous discourse. let the woman play the gossip at a given moment, that is all very well; let her superintend the laundry or the kitchen at another, that is also very well; but these duties only comprise two-thirds of her mission. ought care not to be taken that during the rest of her time she could also be capable of becoming to her husband a rational friend, a cheerful partner, an interesting companion, or, at least, an efficient listener, whose natural intelligence, even if originally inferior to his own, shall, by the help of education, have been raised to the same level! pascal says: "kind words do not cost much. they never blister the tongue or lips. and we have never heard of any mental trouble arising from this quarter. though they do not cost much. . they help one's own good nature. soft words soften our own soul. angry words are fuel to the flame of wrath, and make it blaze more fiercely. . kind words make other people good natured. cold words freeze people, and hot words scorch them, and bitter words make them bitter, and wrathful words make them wrathful. there is such a rush of all other kinds of words in our days, that it seems desirable to give kind words a change among them. there are vain words, and idle words, and hasty words, and spiteful words, and silly words, and empty words, and profane words, and boisterous words, and warlike words. kind words also produce their own image on men's souls. and a beautiful image it is. they smooth, and quiet, and comfort the hearer. they shame him out of his sour, morose, unkind feelings. we have not yet begun to use kind words in such abundance as they ought to be used." a writer in the new york observer, speaking of the necessity of guarding the tongue, says:-- "it is always well to avoid saying everything that is improper; but it is especially so before children. and here parents, as well as others, are often in fault. children have as many ears as grown persons, and they are generally more attentive to what is said before them. what they hear, they are very apt to repeat; and, as they have no discretion, and not sufficient knowledge of the world to disguise anything, it is generally found that 'children and fools speak the truth.' see that boy's eyes glisten while you are speaking of a neighbor in a language you would not wish to have repeated. he does not fully understand what you mean, but he will remember every word; and it will be strange if he does not cause you to blush by the repetition. "a gentleman was in the habit of calling at a neighbor's house, and the lady had always expressed to him great pleasure from his calls. one day, just after she had remarked to him, as usual, her happiness from his visit, her little boy entered the room. the gentleman took him on his knee, and asked, 'are you not glad to see me, george?' 'no, sir,' replied the boy. 'why not, my little man?' he continued. 'because mother don't want you to come,' said george. 'indeed! how do you know that, george?' here the mother became crimson, and looked daggers at her little son. but he saw nothing, and therefore replied, 'because, she said yesterday, she wished that old bore would not call here again.' that was enough. the gentleman's hat was soon in requisition, and he left with the impression that 'great is the truth, and it will prevail.' "another little child looked sharply in the face of a visitor, and being asked what she meant by it, replied, 'i wanted to see if you had a drop in your eye; i heard mother say you had frequently.' "a boy once asked one of his father's guests who it was that lived next door to him, and when he heard his name, inquired if he was not a fool. 'no, my little friend,' replied the guest, 'he is not a fool, but a very sensible man. but why did you ask that question?' 'because,' replied the boy, 'mother said the other day, that you were next door to a fool; and i wanted to know who lived next door to you.'" the best way to overcome the selfishness and rudeness you sometimes meet with on public occasions, is, by great politeness and disinterestedness on your part; overcome evil with good, and you will satisfy your own conscience, and, perhaps, touch theirs. contending for your rights stirs up the selfish feelings in others; but a readiness to yield them awakens generous sentiments, and leads to mutual accommodation. the more refined you are, and the greater have been your advantages, the more polite and considerate you should be toward others, the more ready to give place to some poor, uneducated girl, who knows no better than to push herself directly in your way. politeness is as necessary to a happy intercourse with the inhabitants of the kitchen, as with those of the parlor; it lessens the pains of service, promotes kind feelings on both sides, and checks unbecoming familiarity; always thank them for what they do for you, and always ask rather than command their services. of late years, the wearing of jewelry, in season and out of season, both by matrons and unmarried females, has increased vastly. it is an indication that the growing wealth of the people is not accompanied by a corresponding refinement; but that the love of vulgar show, the low pride of ostentation, takes the place of a pure and elevated taste. the emulation with fashionable dames, now-a-days, so far from being, as with the spartan women, to excel each other in household virtues, is to wear the largest diamonds. and, in this ambition, they forget fitness, beauty, taste, everything but the mere vulgar desire to shine. to be gracefully and elegantly attired, in short, is secondary to the desire to be a sort of jeweler's walking show-card. we do not oppose the use of diamonds and pearls altogether, as some persons might imagine from these remarks. a few diamonds, judiciously worn, look well, on proper occasions, on married women. but young girls rarely, or never, improve their appearance by the use of these dazzling jewels; and, as a general rule, the simpler the costume of a woman in her teens, the better. women are usually pretty, up to the age of twenty, at least. consequently, at this period of life, there are few whom an elaborate attire does not injure; a simple dress, or a rose-bud in the hair, is frequently all that is required; and more only spoils that combination of youthfulness, grace, and modesty, which it should be the highest ambition of the girl to attain; because, if she did but know it, it is her highest charm. instead of this, however, we see gay females, scarcely freed from the nursery, wearing enormous jeweled ear-drops, or sporting on the finger, a diamond ring as large as a sixpence. sometimes, too, ladies pretending to be well-bred, descend to receive a morning visitor of their own sex, glittering like a jeweler's case, with costly gems. in all this, we repeat, there is neither refinement nor elegance, but simply vulgar ostentation. female dress has ceased to be a means of beautifying the person or displaying the wearer's taste, and has become instead, a mere brag of the husband's or father's wealth. a knowledge of domestic duties is beyond all price to a woman. every one of the sex ought to know how to sew, and knit, and mend, and cook, and superintend a household. in every situation of life, high or low, this sort of knowledge is of great advantage. there is no necessity that the gaining of such information should interfere with intellectual acquirement or even elegant accomplishment. a well-regulated mind can find time to attend to all. when a girl is nine or ten years old, she should be accustomed to take some regular share in household duties, and to feel responsible for the manner in which her part is performed--such as her own mending, washing the cups and putting them in place, cleaning silver, or dusting and arranging the parlor. this should not be done occasionally, and neglected whenever she finds it convenient--she should consider it her department. when older than twelve, girls should begin to take turns in superintending the household--making puddings, pies, cakes, &c. to learn effectually, they should actually do these themselves, and not stand by and see others do them. many a husband has been ruined for want of these domestic qualities in a wife--and many a husband has been saved from ruin by his wife being able to manage well the household concerns. it is a mark, not only of ill-breeding, but of positive want of feeling and judgment, to speak disparagingly of a physician to one of his patients. many persons, visiting an invalid friend, will exclaim loudly against the treatment pursued, recommend a different doctor, and add to the sufferings of the patient by their injudicious remarks upon the medicines or practice used. it is too much the fashion, in conversation, to use exaggerated expressions which are opposed to _truth_, without the person employing them being aware of it, from the mere force of habit. why need we say splendid for pretty, magnificent for handsome, horrid for unpleasant, immense for large, thousands, or myriads, for any number more than two? this practice is pernicious, for the effect is to deprive the person who is guilty of it, from being believed, when she is in earnest. no one can trust the testimony of an individual who, in common conversation, is indifferent to the import, and regardless of the value of words. politeness is very essential to the right transaction of that great business of woman's life, _shopping_. the variety afforded by the shops of a city renders people difficult to please; and the latitude they take in examining and asking the price of goods, which they have no thought of buying, is so trying to the patience of those who attend upon them, that nothing but the most perfect courtesy of demeanor can reconcile them to it. some persons behave, in shopping, as if no one had any rights, or any feelings, but the purchasers; as if the sellers of goods were mere automatons, put behind the counter to do their bidding; they keep them waiting, whilst they talk of other things, with a friend; they call for various goods, ask the price, and try to cheapen them, without any real intention of buying. a lady who wants decision of character, after hesitating and debating, till the poor trader's patience is almost exhausted, will beg him to send the article to her house, for her to examine it there; and, after giving him all this trouble, she will refuse to purchase it, without any scruple or apology. some think they have a right to exchange articles at the place where they were bought; whereas that privilege should be asked as a favor, only by a good customer,--and then but rarely. receipts. for the complexion. cold cream, .--take ½ ounces of sweet oil of almonds, drachms of white wax, and the same of spermaceti, ½ ounces of rose-water, drachm of oil of bergamot, and drops each of oil of lavender, and otto of roses. melt the wax and spermaceti in the oil of almonds, by placing them together in a jar, which should be plunged into boiling water. heat a mortar (which should, if possible, be _marble_) by pouring boiling water into it, and letting it remain there until the mortar is uniformly heated; the water is to be poured away, and the mortar dried well. pour the melted wax and spermaceti into the warm mortar, and add rose-water gradually, while the mixture is constantly stirred or whisked with an egg-whisp, until the whole is cold, and, when nearly finished, add the oils and otto of roses. in the absence of a mortar, a basin plunged into another containing boiling water will answer the purpose. cold cream, .--take drachms of spermaceti, drachms of white wax, half a pound of prepared lard, grains of subcarbonate of potash, ounces of rose-water, ounces of spirits of wine, and ten drops of otto of roses. proceed as above. some persons prefer orange-flower-water instead of rose-water, in which case use the same proportions. cold cream is a useful local application to hard and dry parts of the skin, to abrasions and cracks. when spread thickly upon rag, it is an excellent application to blistered surfaces or burns, or may be used to protect exposed parts from the influence of the sun. granulated cold cream.--take white wax and spermaceti, of each one ounce; almond oil ounces, otto of rose, as much as you please. dissolve the wax and spermaceti in the almond oil, by means of heat, and when a little cool, pour the mixture into a large wedgwood mortar previously warmed, and containing about a pint of warm water. stir briskly until the cream is well divided, add the otto, and _suddenly_ pour the whole into a clean vessel containing or pints of _cold water_. separate the cream by straining through muslin, and shake out as much water as possible. white camphorated ointment, .--take ounces drachms of powdered carbonate of lead (cerussa), grains of powdered camphor. mix, and then stir into ounces of melted lard. this is applied to burns and contusions with very good effect, and is much used in austria. the surface must not be abraded when it is applied. white camphorated ointment, .--take ounces of olive oil, ounce of white wax, grains of camphor, and drachms of spermaceti. melt the wax and spermaceti with the oil, and when they have cooled rub the ointment with the camphor, dissolved in a little oil. sometimes the white wax is omitted, and lard substituted for it. it is useful in chaps, fissures, abrasions, and roughness of the skin. pitch pomade, .--take drachm of pitch, and ounce of lard. mix well, and apply twice a day to the affected parts. this is used for ringworm, and scald head. to soften the skin, and improve the complexion.--if flowers of sulphur be mixed in a little milk, and, after standing an hour or two, the milk (without disturbing the sulphur) be rubbed into the skin, it will keep it soft, and make the complexion clear. it is to be used before washing. to remove black stains from the skin.--ladies that wear mourning in warm weather are much incommoded by the blackness it leaves on the arms and neck, and which cannot easily be removed, even by soap and warm water. to have a remedy always at hand, keep, in the drawer of your wash-stand, a box, containing a mixture in equal portions of cream of tartar, and oxalic acid (poison). get, at a druggist's, half an ounce of each of these articles, and have them mixed and pounded together in a mortar. put some of this mixture into a cup that has a cover, and if, afterwards, it becomes hard, you may keep it slightly moistened with water. see that it is always closely covered. to use it, wet the black stains on your skin with the corner of a towel, dipped in water (warm water is best, but is not always at hand). then, with your finger, rub on a little of the mixture. then _immediately_ wash it off with water, and afterwards with soap and water, and the black stains will be visible no longer. this mixture will also remove ink, and all other stains from the fingers, and from _white_ clothes. it is more speedy in its effects if applied with warm water. no family should be without it, but care must be taken to keep it out of the way of young children, as, if swallowed, it is poisonous. pastes. almond.--take ounce of bitter almonds, blanch and pound them to a fine powder, then add ounce of barley flour, and make it into a smooth paste by the addition of a little honey. when this paste is laid over the skin, particularly where there are freckles, it makes it smooth and soft. palatine.--take ounces of soft-soap, of olive oil, and spirits of wine, each ounces, ½ ounce of lemon-juice, sufficient silver-sand to form into a thick paste, and any perfume that is grateful to the person. boil the oil and soap together in a pipkin, and then gradually stir in the sand and lemon-juice. when nearly cool add the spirit of wine, and lastly the perfume. make into a paste with the hands, and place in jars or pots for use. this paste is used instead of soap, and is a valuable addition to the toilette, as it preserves the skin from chapping, and renders it smooth and soft. american cosmetic powder.--calcined magnesia applied the same as ordinary toilette powders, by means of a swan's-down ball, usually called a "puff." maloine.--take ounces of powdered marsh-mallow roots, ounces of powdered white starch, drachms of powdered orris-root, and drops of essence of jasmine. mix well, and sift through fine muslin. this is one of the most agreeable and elegant cosmetics yet known for softening and whitening the skin, preserving it from chapping, and being so simple that it may be applied to the most delicate or irritable skin. this receipt has never before been published, and we know that only six bottles of it have been made. oxide of zinc is sprinkled into chaps and fissures to promote their cure. yaoulta.--take ounce of white starch, powdered and sifted, ½ a drachm of rose pink, drops of essence of jasmine, and drops of otto of roses. mix and keep in a fine muslin bag. this exquisite powder is to be dusted over the face, and, being perfectly harmless, may be used as often as necessity requires. it also imparts a delicate rosy tinge to the skin preferable to rouge. crÃ�me de l'enclos.--take ounces of milk, ounce of lemon-juice, and drachms of spirit of wine. simmer over a slow fire, and then bring it to the boil, skim off the scum, and when cold apply it to the skin. it is much used by some persons to remove freckles and sun-burnings. washes and lotions. milk of roses, .--take ounces of blanched almonds; ounces of rose-water; white soft-soap, or windsor soap; white wax; and oil of almonds, of each drachms; rectified spirit, ounces; oil of bergamot, drachm; oil of lavender, drops; otto of roses, drops. beat the almonds well, and then add the rose-water gradually so as to form an emulsion, mix the soap, white wax, and oil together, by placing them in a covered jar upon the edge of the fire-place, then rub this mixture in a mortar with the emulsion. strain the whole through very fine muslin, and add the essential oils, previously mixed with the spirit. this is an excellent wash for "sunburns," freckles, or for cooling the face and neck, or any part of the skin to which it is applied. milk of roses, .--this is not quite so expensive a receipt as the last; and, at the same time is not so good. take ounce of jordan almonds; ounces of distilled rose-water; ounce of spirit of wine; ½ a drachm of venetian soap, and drops of otto of roses. beat the almonds (previously blanched and well dried with a cloth) in a mortar, until they become a complete paste, then beat the soap and mix with the almonds, and afterwards add the rose-water and spirit. strain through a very fine muslin or linen, and add the otto of roses. the common milk of roses sold in the shops, frequently contains salt of tartar, or pearlash, combined with olive oil and rose-water, and therefore it is better to make it yourself to ensure it being good. french milk of roses.--mix ½ pints of rose-water with ½ a pint of rosemary-water, then add tincture of storax and tincture of benzoin, of each ounces; and _esprit de rose_, ½ an ounce. this is a useful wash for freckles. german milk of roses.--take of rose-water and milk of almonds, each ounces; water ounces; rosemary-water ounces; and spirit of lavender ½ an ounce. mix well, and then add ½ an ounce of sugar of lead. this is a dangerous form to leave about where there are children, and should never be applied when there are any abrasions, or chaps on the surface. milk of almonds.--blanch ounces of jordan almonds, dry them with a towel, and then pound them in a mortar; add drachms of white or curd soap, and rub it up with the almonds for about ten minutes or rather more, gradually adding one quart of rose-water, until the whole is well mixed, then strain through a fine piece of muslin, and bottle for use. this is an excellent remedy for freckles and sunburns, and may be used as a general cosmetic, being applied to the skin after washing by means of the corner of a soft towel. anti-freckle lotion, .--take tincture of benzoin, ounces; tincture of tolu, ounce; oil of rosemary, ½ a drachm. mix well and bottle. when required to be used, add a teaspoonful of the mixture to about a wine-glassful of water, and apply the lotion to the face or hands, &c., night and morning, carefully rubbing it in with a soft towel. anti-freckle lotion, .--take ounce of rectified spirit of wine; drachm of hydrochloric acid (spirit of salt); and ounces of water. mix the acid gradually with the water, and then add the spirit of wine; apply by means of a camel's-hair brush, or a piece of flannel. gowland's lotion.--take ½ grains of bichloride of mercury, and ounce of emulsion of bitter almonds; mix well. be careful of the bichloride of mercury, because it is a poison. this is one of the best cosmetics for imparting a delicate appearance and softness to the skin, and is a useful lotion in acne, ringworm, hard and dry skin, and sun-blisterings. cold cream.--sweet almond oil, lbs. by weight, white wax, ¾ lb., spermaceti, ¾ lb., clarified mutton suet, lb., rose-water, pints, spirits of wine, pint. directions to mix the above:--place the oil, wax, spermaceti, and suet in a large jar; cover it over tightly, then place it in a saucepan of boiling water, (having previously placed two or more pieces of fire-wood at the bottom of the saucepan, to allow the water to get underneath the jar, and to prevent its breaking) keep the water boiling round the jar till all the ingredients are dissolved; take it out of the water, and pour it into a large pan previously warmed and capable of holding pints; then, with a wooden spatula, stir in the rose-water, cold, as quickly as possible, (dividing it into three or four parts, at most,) the stirring in of which should not occupy above five minutes, as after a certain heat the water will not mix. when all the water is in, stir unremittingly for thirty minutes longer, to prevent its separating, then add the spirits of wine, and the scent, and it is finished. keep it in a cold place, in a white glazed jar, and do not cut it with a _steel_ knife, as it causes blackness at the parts of contact. scent with otto of roses and essential oil of bergamot to fancy. for smaller quantities, make ounces instead of pounds. palm soap.--i make it in the following manner:--cut thin two pounds of yellow soap into a double saucepan, occasionally stirring it till it is melted, which will be in a few minutes if the water is kept boiling around it; then add quarter of a pound of palm oil, quarter of a pound of honey, three pennyworth of true oil of cinnamon; let all boil together another six or eight minutes; pour out and stand it by till next day; it is then fit for immediate use. if made as these directions it will be found to be a very superior soap. cure for chapped hands.--take drachms of gum camphor, drachms of white beeswax, drachms of spermaceti, ounces of olive oil,--put them together in a cup upon the stove, where they will melt slowly and form a white ointment in a few minutes. if the hands be affected, anoint them on going to bed, and put on a pair of gloves. a day or two will suffice to heal them. to whiten the nails.--diluted sulphuric acid, drachms; tincture of myrrh, drachm; spring water, ounces. mix. first cleanse with white soap, and then dip the fingers into the mixture. to whiten the hands.--take a wine-glassful of eau de cologne, and another of lemon-juice; then scrape two cakes of brown windsor soap to a powder, and mix well in a mould. when hard, it will be an excellent soap for whitening the hands. for the teeth. to remove tartar from the teeth.-- st. the use of the tooth-brush night and morning, and, at least, rinsing the mouth after every meal at which animal food is taken. nd. once daily run the brush lightly two or three times over soap, then dip it in salt, and with it clean the teeth, working the brush up and down rather than--or as well as--backwards and forwards. this is a cheap, safe, and effectual dentrifice. rd. eat freely of common cress, the sort used with mustard, under the name of small salad; it must be eaten with salt only. if thus used two or three days in succession it will effectually loosen tartar, even of long standing. the same effect is produced, though perhaps not in an equal degree, by eating strawberries and raspberries, especially the former. a leaf of common green sage rubbed on the teeth is useful both in cleansing and polishing, and probably many other common vegetable productions also. care of the teeth.--the water with which the teeth are cleansed should be what is called lukewarm. they should be well but gently brushed both night and morning; the brush should be neither too hard nor too soft. the best tooth-powders are made from cuttle-fish, prepared chalk, and orris-root commingled together in equal quantities. simple means of removing tartar from the teeth.--in these summer months, tartar may be effectually removed from the teeth, by partaking daily of strawberries. tooth powder.--powdered orris-root, ½ an ounce; powdered charcoal, ounces, powdered peruvian bark, ounce; prepared chalk, ½ an ounce; oil of bergamot, or lavender, drops. these ingredients must be well worked up in a mortar, until thoroughly incorporated. this celebrated tooth-powder possesses three essential virtues, giving an odorous breath, cleansing and purifying the gums, and preserving the enamel; the last rarely found in popular tooth-powders. tooth-powder.--one of the best tooth-powders that can be used may be made by mixing together ½ ounces prepared chalk, ½ ounce powder of bark, and ¼ ounce of camphor. a cheap but good tooth-powder.--cut a slice of bread as thick as may be, into squares, and burn in the fire until it becomes charcoal, after which pound in a mortar, and sift through a fine muslin; it is then ready for use. cheap and invaluable dentifrice.--dissolve ounces of borax in three pints of water; before quite cold, add thereto one tea-spoonful of tincture of myrh, and one table-spoonful of spirits of camphor; bottle the mixture for use. one wine-glass of the solution, added to half a pint of tepid water, is sufficient for each application. this solution, applied daily, preserves and beautifies the teeth, extirpates all tartarous adhesion, produces a pearl-like whiteness, arrests decay, and induces a healthy action in the gums. invaluable dentifrice.--dissolve two ounces of borax in three pints of boiling water; before quite cold, add one tea-spoonful of tincture of myrrh, and one table-spoonful of spirits of camphor; bottle the mixture for use. one wine-glassful of this solution, added to half a pint of tepid water, is sufficient for each application. for the hair. loss of hair.--the most simple remedy for loss of hair, is friction to the scalp of the head, using for the purpose an old tooth-brush, or one of which the bristles have been softened by soaking in boiling water. the shape of the instrument adapts it to be inserted readily and effectually between the hair, where it should be rubbed backwards and forwards over the space of an inch or so at a time. in addition to the friction, which should be used once or twice a day, the head may be showered once a day with cold water, carefully drying it with soft, spongy towels. pomatum.--take of white mutton suet pounds, well boiled in hot water, ( quarts,) and washed to free it from salt. melt the suet, when dried, with ½ pounds of fresh lard, and pounds of yellow wax. pour into an earthen vessel, and stir till it is cold; then beat into it drops of oil of cloves, or any other essential oil whose scent you prefer. if this kind of pomatum is too hard, use less wax. at times numbers of loose hairs come away in the brushing or combing. such cases as these will generally be found remedial. wilson recommends women with short hair to dip their heads into cold water every morning, and afterwards apply the brush until a glow of warmth is felt all over the scalp. those who have long hair are to brush it till the skin beneath becomes red, when a lotion is to be applied, as here specified. eau de cologne oz. tincture of cantharides ½ oz. oil of nutmegs ½ drachm. oil of lavender drops. to be well mixed together. another is composed of:-- mezereon bark in small pieces oz. horse-radish root in small pieces oz. boiling distilled vinegar ½ pint. let this infusion stand for a week, and then strain through muslin for use. if irritating to the skin, these lotions can be made weaker, or less frequently applied than might otherwise be necessary. either of them, or distilled vinegar alone, may be rubbed into a bald patch with a tooth-brush. the same lotions may also be used if the hair is disposed to become gray too early; as they invigorate the apparatus situated beneath the skin, and enable it to take up coloring matter. dyeing of the hair is a practice which ought never to be resorted to. those who are unwilling or unable to discontinue the practice of applying some kind of dressing to the hair, should, at least, content themselves with a simple, yet good material. the best olive oil is most suitable for the purpose, scented with otto of roses or bergamot; the latter, as many persons know, is the essence of a species of mint. the same scents may also be used for pomatum, which should be made of perfectly pure lard, or marrow. hair oils, &c.--when used moderately, oils, ointments, &c., tend to strengthen the hair, especially when it is naturally dry. when used in excess, however, they clog the pores, prevent the escape of the natural secretions, and cause the hair to wither and fall off. the varieties of "oils," "greases," "ointments," rivaling each-other in their high sounding pretensions, which are daily imposed upon public credulity, are interminable. we add one or two of the most simple. for thickening the hair.--to one ounce of palma christi oil, add a sufficient quantity of bergamot or lavender to scent it. apply it to the parts where it is most needed, brushing it well into the hair. an ointment for the hair.--mix two ounces of bear's grease, half an ounce of honey, one drachm of laudanum, three drachms of the powder of southernwood, three drachms of the balsam of peru, one and a half drachms of the ashes of the roots of bulrushes, and a small quantity of the oil of sweet almonds. macassar oil.--it is said to be compounded of the following ingredients:--to three quarts of common oil, add half-a-pint of spirits of wine, three ounces of cinnamon powder, and two ounces of bergamot; heat the whole in a large pipkin. on removing from the fire, add three or four small pieces of alkanet root, and keep the vessel closely covered for several hours. when cool, it may be filtered through a funnel lined with filtering paper. whether oils are used or not, the hair ought night and morning to be carefully and elaborately brushed. this is one of the best preservatives of its beauty. the following is recommended as an excellent hair oil:--boil together half-a-pint of port wine, one pint and a-half of sweet oil, and half-a-pound of green southernwood. strain the mixture through a linen rag several times; adding, at the last operation, two ounces of bear's grease. if fresh southernwood is added each time it passes through the linen, the composition will be improved. pomade victoria.--this highly-praised and excellent pomade is made in the following way--and if so made, will be found to give a beautiful gloss and softness to the hair:--quarter of a-pound of honey and half-an-ounce of bees' wax simmered together for a few minutes and then strain. add of oil of almonds, lavender, and thyme, half-a-drachm each. be sure to continue stirring till quite cold, or the honey and wax will separate. lemon pomatum.--best lard, two pounds; suet, half-a-pound; dissolve with a gentle heat, and mix them well together. then add four ounces of orange-flower water, and four ounces of rose-water, and mix them well together before adding, or they will separate. having done this, add a quarter of an ounce of essence of lemon; half-a-drachm of musk, and half-a-drachm of oil of thyme. to color pomatum.--yellow, by palm oil or annatto; red, by alkanet root; and green, by guaiacum, or the green leaves of parsley. bandoline for the hair, (a french receipt).--to one quart of water put ½ ounce of quince pips, boil it nearly an hour, stirring it well, strain it through a fine muslin, let it stand twenty-four hours, and then add fourteen drops of the essential oil of almonds. a dessert-spoonful of brandy may be added, if required to keep a long time. bandoline for the hair.--take of castor oil, two ounces; spermaceti, one drachm; oil of bergamot, one drachm; mix with heat and strain; then beat in six drops otto of roses. if wished colored, add half-a-drachm of annatto. another.--i furnish you with an excellent form of bandoline, much more quickly made than others. have a small packet of powdered gum dragon by you, and when you require any fresh bandoline, take a tea-spoonful of the powder, and pour enough of boiling water on it to make a small bottle full. scent with otto of roses. curling fluid.--place two pounds of common soap, cut small, into three pints of spirits of wine, with eight ounces of potash, and melt the whole, stirring it with a clean piece of wood. add, on cooling, essence of amber, vanilla, and neroli, of each quarter of an ounce. the best method of keeping _ringlets_ in curl, is the occasional application of the yolk of an egg, and the hair, afterwards, well washed in lukewarm water. apply the egg with a tooth or hair-brush. for the lips. very excellent lip-salve.--take four ounces of butter, fresh from the churn, cut it small, put it into a jar, cover it with good rose-water, and let it remain for four or five days; then drain it well, and put it into a small and very clean saucepan, with one ounce of spermaceti, and one of yellow beeswax sliced thin, a quarter of an ounce of bruised alkanet root, two drachms of gum benzoin, and one of storax, beaten to powder, half an ounce of loaf sugar, and the strained juice of a moderate sized lemon. simmer these gently, keeping them stirred all the time, until the mixture looks very clear, and sends forth a fine aromatic odour; then strain it through a thin doubled muslin, and stir to it from twelve to twenty drops of essential oil of roses, and pour it into small gallipots, from which it can easily be turned out when cold, and then be rubbed against the lips, which is the most pleasant way of using it, as it is much firmer than common lip-salve, and will be found more healing and infinitely more agreeable. when butter cannot be had direct from the churn, any which is quite fresh may be substituted for it, after the salt has been well washed and soaked out of it, by working it with a strong spoon in cold water, in which it should remain for a couple of days or more, the water being frequently changed during the time. rose lip-salve.-- ounces sweet almond oil, ounces prepared mutton suet, ½ ounces white wax, ounces spermaceti, drops otto; steep a small quantity of alkanet root in the oil, and strain before using. melt the suet, wax, and spermaceti together, then add the coloric oil and otto. lip-salves.--a good lip-salve may be made as follows:--take an ounce of the oil of sweet almonds, cold drawn; a drachm of fresh mutton suet; and a little bruised alkanet root: and simmer the whole together in an earthen pipkin. instead of the oil of sweet almonds you may use oil of jasmin, or oil of any other flower, if you intend the lip-salve to have a fragrant odour.-- . take a pound of fresh butter; a quarter of a pound of beeswax; four or five ounces of cleansed black grapes, and about an ounce of bruised alkanet root. simmer them together over a slow fire till the wax is wholly dissolved, and the mixture becomes of a bright red color; strain, and put it by for use. . oil of almonds, spermaceti, white wax, and white sugar-candy, equal parts, form a good white lip-salve. superior lip-salve.--white wax, two and a half ounces; spermaceti, three quarters of an ounce; oil of almonds, four ounces. mix well together, and apply a little to the lips at night. another.--a desert spoonful of salad oil in a saucer, hold it over a candle, and drop melted wax over it till the oil is thinly covered, when they are incorporated, pour it into boxes.--(wax taper will do.) for corns. cure for corns.--place the feet for half an hour, two or three nights successively, in a pretty strong solution of common soda. the alkali dissolves the indurated cuticle, and the corn falls out spontaneously, leaving a small excavation, which soon fills up. to remove corns.--get four ounces of white diachylon plaster, four ounces of shoemaker's wax, and sixty drops of muriatic acid or spirits of salt. boil them for a few minutes in an earthen pipkin, and when cold, roll the mass between the hands and apply a little on a piece of white leather. a certain cure for soft corns.--dip a piece of soft linen rag in turpentine, and wrap it round the toe on which the soft corn is, night and morning; in a few days the corn will disappear; but the relief is instantaneous. perfumes. to make eau de cologne.--rectified spirits of wine, four pints; oil of bergamot, one ounce; oil of lemon, half an ounce; oil of rosemary, half a drachm; oil of neroli, three quarters of a drachm; oil of english lavender, one drachm; oil of oranges, one drachm. mix well and then filter. if these proportions are too large, smaller ones may be used. eau de cologne.--oil of neroli, citron, bergamot, orange, and rosemary, of each twelve drops; cardamom seeds, one drachm; spirits of wine, one pint. let it stand for a week. lavender water.--oil of lavender, drachms; oil of bergamot, ½ drachm; essence of musk, drachm; spirits of wine, ounces; water, ounces. let it stand for a week. for keeping the wardrobe in order. to clean kid gloves.--make a strong lather with curd soap and warm water, in which steep a small piece of new flannel. place the glove on a flat, clean, and unyielding surface--such as the bottom of a dish, and having thoroughly soaped the flannel (when squeezed from the lather), rub the kid till all dirt be removed, cleaning and resoaping the flannel from time to time. care must be taken to omit no part of the glove, by turning the fingers, &c. the gloves must be dried in the sun, or before a moderate fire, and will present the appearance of old parchment. when quite dry, they must be gradually "pulled out," and will look new. another.--first see that your hands are clean, then put on the gloves and wash them, as though you were washing your hands, in a basin of spirits of turpentine, until quite clean; then hang them up in a warm place, or where there is a good current of air, which will carry off all smell of the turpentine. this method was brought from paris, and thousands of dollars have been made by it. to clean colored kid gloves.--have ready on a table a clean towel, folded three or four times, a saucer of new milk, and another saucer with a piece of brown soap. take one glove at a time, and spread it smoothly on the folded towel. then dip in the milk a piece of clean flannel, rub it on the soap till you get off a tolerable quantity, and then, with the wet flannel, commence rubbing the glove. begin at the wrist, and rub lengthways towards the end of the fingers, holding the glove firmly in your right-hand. continue this process until the glove is well cleaned all over with the milk and soap. when done, spread them out, and pin them on a line to dry gradually. when nearly dry, pull them out evenly, the crossway of the leather. when quite dry, stretch them on your hands. white kid gloves may also be washed in this manner, provided they have never been cleaned with india-rubber. to clean white or colored kid gloves.--put the glove on your hand, then take a small piece of flannel, dip it in camphene, and well, but gently, rub it over the glove, _taking care not to make it too wet_, when the dirt is removed, dip the flannel (or another piece if that is become too dirty) into pipe-clay and rub it over the glove; take it off, and hang it up in a room to dry, and in a day or two very little smell will remain; and if done carefully they will be almost as good as new. in colored ones, if yellow, use gamboge after the pipe-clay, and for other colors match it in dry paint. to clean white kid gloves.--stretch the gloves on a clean board, and rub all the soiled or grease-spots with cream of tartar or magnesia. let them rest an hour. then have ready a mixture of alum and fuller's earth (both powdered), and rub it all over the gloves with a brush (a clean tooth-brush or something similar), and let them rest for an hour or two. then sweep it all off, and go over them with a flannel dipped in a mixture of bran and finely powdered whiting. let them rest another hour; then brush off the powder, and you will find them clean. to clean light kid gloves.--put on one glove, and having made a strong lather with common brown soap, apply it with a shaving brush, wiping it off immediately with a clean towel, then blow into the glove, and leave it to dry. an excellent paste for gloves.--liquor of ammonia half an ounce, chloride of potash ten ounces, curd soap one pound, water half a pint; dissolve the soap in the water, with a gentle heat, then as the mixture cools, stir in the other ingredients. use it, by rubbing it over the gloves until the dirt is removed. to wash thread lace.--rip off the lace, carefully pick out the loose bits of thread, and roll the lace very smoothly and securely round a clean black bottle, previously covered with old white linen, sewed tightly on. tack each end of the lace with a needle and thread, to keep it smooth; and be careful in wrapping not to crumple or fold in any of the scallops or pearlings. after it is on the bottle, take some of the _best_ sweet oil and with a clean sponge wet the lace thoroughly to the inmost folds. have ready in a wash-kettle, a strong _cold_ lather of clear water and white castile soap. fill the bottle with cold water, to prevent its bursting, cork it well, and stand it upright in the suds, with a string round the neck secured to the ears or handle of the kettle, to prevent its knocking about and breaking while over the fire. let it boil in the suds for an hour or more, till the lace is clean and white all through. drain off the suds, and dry it on the bottle in the sun. when dry, remove the lace from the bottle and roll it round a wide ribbon-block; or lay it in long folds, place it within a sheet of smooth, white, paper, and press it in a large book for a few days. to wash a white lace veil.--put the veil into a strong lather of white soap and very clear water, and let it simmer slowly for a quarter of an hour. take it out and squeeze it well, but be sure not to rub it. rinse it in two cold waters, with a drop or two of liquid blue in the last. have ready some very clear and weak gum-arabic water, or some thin starch, or rice-water. pass the veil through it, and clear it by clapping. then stretch it out even, and pin it to dry on a linen cloth, making the edge as straight as possible, opening out all the scallops, and fastening each with pins. when dry, lay a piece of thin muslin smoothly over it, and iron it on the wrong side. to wash a black lace veil.--mix bullock's gall with sufficient hot water to make it as warm as you can bear your hand in. then pass the veil through it. it must be squeezed, and not rubbed. it will be well to perfume the gall with a little musk. next rinse the veil through two cold waters, tinging the last with indigo. then dry it. have ready in a pan some stiffening made by pouring boiling water on a very small piece of glue. pat the veil into it, squeeze it out, stretch it, and clap it. afterwards pin it out to dry on a linen cloth, making it very straight and even, and taking care to open and pin the edge very nicely. when dry, iron it on the wrong side, having laid a linen cloth over the ironing-blanket. any article of black lace may be washed in this manner. to clean white satin and flowered silks.-- . mix sifted stale bread crumbs with powder blue, and rub it thoroughly all over, then shake it well, and dust it with clean, soft cloths. afterwards, where there are any gold or silver flowers, take a piece of crimson ingrain velvet, rub the flowers with it, which will restore them to their original lustre. . pass them through a solution of fine hard soap, at a hand heat, drawing them through the hand. rinse in lukewarm water, dry and finish by pinning out. brush the flossy or bright side with a clean clothes-brush, the way of the nap. finish them by dipping a sponge into a size, made by boiling isinglass in water, and rub the wrong side. rinse out a second time, and brush, and dry near a fire, or in a warm room. silks may be treated in the same way, but not brushed. to clean white silk.--dissolve some of the best curd soap in boiling water, and when the solution is as hot as the hand can bear, pass the silk through it thoroughly, handling it gently, not to injure the texture. if there are any spots, these may be rubbed carefully until they disappear. the article must then be rinsed in lukewarm water. to iron silk.--silk cannot be ironed smoothly, so as to press out all the creases, without first sprinkling it with water, and rolling it up tightly in a towel, letting it rest for an hour or two. if the iron is in the least too hot, it will injure the color, and it should first be tried on an old piece of the same silk. to wash silk.--half a pint of gin, four ounces of soft soap, and two ounces of honey, well shaken; then rub the silk, with a sponge (wetted with the above mixture), upon a table, and wash through two waters, in which first put two or three spoonfuls of ox gall, which will brighten the colors, and prevent their running. the silks should not be wrung, but well shaken and hung up smoothly to dry, and mangled while damp. the writer has had _green_ silk dresses washed by this receipt, and they have looked as well as new. to renovate black silk.--slice some uncooked potatoes, pour boiling water on them; when cold sponge the right side of the silk with it, and iron on the wrong. to keep silk.--silk articles should not be kept folded in white paper, as the chloride of lime used in bleaching the paper will probably impair the color of the silk. brown or blue paper is better--the yellowish smooth india paper is best of all. silk intended for a dress should not be kept in the house long before it is made up, as lying in the folds will have a tendency to impair its durability by causing it to cut or split, particularly if the silk has been thickened by gum. we knew an instance of a very elegant and costly thread-lace veil being found, on its arrival from france, cut into squares (and therefore destroyed) by being folded over a pasteboard card. a white satin dress should be pinned up in blue paper, with coarse brown paper outside, sewed together at the edges. to restore velvet.--when velvet gets plushed from pressure, holding the reverse side over a basin of boiling water will raise the pile, and perhaps it may also succeed in the case of wet from rain. to iron velvet.--having ripped the velvet apart, damp each piece separately, and holding it tightly in both hands, stretch it before the fire, the wrong side of the velvet being towards the fire. this will remove the creases, and give the surface of the material a fresh and new appearance. velvet cannot be ironed on a table, for, when spread out on a hard substance, the iron will not go smoothly over the pile. to clean ermine and minivar fur.--take a piece of soft flannel, and rub the fur well with it (but remember that the rubbing must be always against the grain); then rub the fur with common flour until clean. shake it well, and rub again with the flannel till all the flour is out of it. i have had a minivar boa for four years. it has never been cleaned with anything but flour, and is not in the least injured by the rubbing. it was a school companion who told me that her aunt (a russian lady) always cleaned her white furs with flour, and that they looked quite beautiful. it has one advantage--the lining does not require to be taken out, and it only requires a little trouble. ermine takes longer than minivar. the latter is very easily done. to perfume linen.--rose-leaves dried in the shade, or at about four feet from a stove, one pound; cloves, carraway-seeds, and allspice, of each one ounce; pound in a mortar, or grind in a mill; dried salt, a quarter of a pound; mix all these together, and put the compound into little bags. to restore scorched linen.--take two onions, peel and slice them, and extract the juice by squeezing or pounding. then cut up half an ounce of white soap, and two ounces of fuller's earth; mix with them the onion juice, and half a pint of vinegar. boil this composition well, and spread it, when cool, over the scorched part of the linen, leaving it to dry thereon. afterwards wash out the linen. to whiten linen that has turned yellow.--cut up a pound of fine white soap into a gallon of milk, and hang it over the fire in a wash-kettle. when the soap has entirely melted, put in the linen, and boil it half an hour. then take it out; have ready a lather of soap and warm water; wash the linen in it, and then rinse it through two cold waters, with a very little blue in the last. to wash china crape scarfs, &c.--if the fabric be good, these articles of dress can be washed as frequently as may be required, and no diminution of their beauty will be discoverable, even when the various shades of green have been employed among other colors in the patterns. in cleaning them, make a strong lather of boiling water--suffer it to cool; when cold, or nearly so, wash the scarf quickly and thoroughly, dip it immediately in cold hard water, in which a little salt has been thrown (to preserve the colors), rinse, squeeze, and hang it out to dry in the open air; pin it at its extreme edge to the line, so that it may not in any part be folded together; the more rapidly it dries, the clearer it will be. to clean embroidery and gold lace.--for this purpose no alkaline liquors are to be used; for while they clean the gold, they corrode the silk, and change its color. soap also alters the shade, and even the species of certain colors. but spirit of wine may be used without any danger of its injuring either color or quality; and, in many cases, proves as effectual for restoring the lustre of the gold as the corrosive detergents. but, though spirits of wine is the most innocent material employed for this purpose, it is not in all cases proper. the golden covering may be in some parts worn off; or the base metal with which it has been alloyed may be corroded by the air, so as to leave the particles of the gold disunited; while the silver underneath, tarnished to a yellow hue, may continue a tolerable color to the whole, so it is apparent that the removal of the tarnish would be prejudicial, and make the lace or embroidery less like gold than it was before. it is necessary that care should be taken. to remove stains of wine or fruit from table linen.--a wine stain may sometimes be removed by rubbing it, while wet, with common salt. it is said, also, that sherry wine poured immediately on a place where port wine has been spilled, will prevent its leaving a stain. a _certain_ way of extracting fruit or wine stains from table-linen is to tie up some cream of tartar in the stained part (so as to form a sort of bag), and then to put the linen into a lather of soap and cold water, and boil it awhile. then transfer it wet to a lukewarm suds, wash and rinse it well, and dry and iron it. the stains will disappear during the process. another way, is to mix, in equal quantities, soft soap, slackened lime, and pearl-ash. rub the stain with this preparation, and expose the linen to the sun with the mixture plastered on it. if necessary, repeat the application. as soon as the stain has disappeared, wash out the linen immediately, as it will be injured if the mixture is left in it. stain mixture.--take an ounce of sal-ammoniac (or hartshorn) and an ounce of salt of tartar--mix them well, put them into a pint of soft water, and bottle it for use, keeping it very tightly corked. pour a little of this liquid into a saucer, and wash in it those parts of a white article that have been stained with ink, mildew, fruit, or red wine. when the stains have, by this process, been removed, wash the article in the usual manner. chemical renovating balls--for taking out grease, paint, pitch, tar, from silks, stuffs, linen, woolen, carpets, hats, coats, &c., without fading the color or injuring the cloth:--¼ ounce of fuller's earth, ¼ ounce of pipe-clay, ounce salt of tartar, ounce beef gall, ounce spirits of wine. pound the hard parts and mix the ingredients well together. wet the stain with cold water, rub it well with this ball, then sponge it with a wet sponge and the stain will disappear. to prevent colored things from running.--boil ¼ pound of soap till nearly dissolved, then add a small piece of alum and boil with it. wash the things in this lather, but do not soap them. if they require a second water put alum to that also as well as to the rinsing and blue water. this will preserve them. to remove stains from mourning dresses.--take a good handful of fig-leaves, and boil them in two quarts of water until reduced to a pint. squeeze the leaves and put the liquor into a bottle for use. the articles, whether of bombasin, crape, cloth, &c., need only be rubbed with a sponge dipped in the liquor, when the effect will be instantly produced. if any reason exists to prevent the substance from being wetted, then apply french chalk, which will absorb the grease from the finest texture without injury. to shrink new flannel.--new flannel should always be shrunk or washed before it is made up, that it may be cut out more accurately, and that the grease which is used in manufacturing it may be extracted. first, cut off the list along the selvage edges of the whole piece. then put it into warm (not boiling) water, without soap. begin at one end of the piece, and rub it with both hands till you come to the other end; this is to get out the grease and the blue with which new white flannel is always tinged. then do the same through another water. rinse it through a clean, lukewarm water; wring it lengthways, and stretch it well. in hanging it out on a line do not suspend it in festoons, but spread it along the line straight and lengthways. if dried in festoons, the edges will be in great scollops, making it very difficult to cut out. it must be dried in the sun. when dry let it be stretched even, clapped with the hands, and rolled up tight and smoothly, till wanted. gum arabic starch.--get two ounces of fine, white gum arabic, and pound it to powder. next put it into a pitcher, and pour on it a pint or more of boiling water (according to the degree of strength you desire), and then, having covered it, let it set all night. in the morning, pour it carefully from the dregs into a clean bottle, cork it, and keep it for use. a table-spoonful of gum water stirred into a pint of starch that has been made in the usual manner, will give to lawns (either white or printed) a look of newness to which nothing else can restore them after washing. it is also good (much diluted) for thin white muslin and bobinet. to wash white thread gloves and stockings.--these articles are so delicate as to require great care in washing, and they must not on any account be rubbed. make a lather of white soap and _cold_ water, and put it into a saucepan. soap the gloves or stockings well, put them in, and set the saucepan over the fire. when they have come to a hard boil, take them off, and when cool enough for your hand, squeeze them in the water. having prepared a fresh cold lather, boil them again in that. then take the pan off the fire, and squeeze them well again, after which they can be stretched, dried, and then ironed on the wrong side. to clean silk stockings.--first wash the stockings in the usual manner, to take out the rough dirt. after rinsing them in clean water, wash them well in a fresh soap liquor. then make a third soap liquor, which color with a little stone-blue; then wash the stockings once more, take them out, wring them, and particularly dry them. now stove them with brimstone, and draw on a wooden leg two stockings, one upon the other, observing that the two fronts or outsides are face to face. polish with a glass bottle. the two first liquors should be only lukewarm, but the third as hot as you can bear your hand in. blondes and gauzes may be whitened in the same manner, but there should be a little gum put in the last liquor before they are stoved. to take out mildew from clothes.--mix some soft soap with powdered starch, half as much salt, and the juice of a lemon, lay it on the part with a brush, let it be exposed in the air day and night, until the stain disappears. iron-moulds may be removed by the salt of lemons. many stains in linen may be taken out by dipping linen in sour buttermilk, and then drying it in the sun; afterwards wash it in cold water several times. stains caused by acids may be removed by tying some pearlash up in the stained part; scrape some soap in cold, soft water, and boil the linen till the stain is out. bleaching straw.--straw is bleached, and straw bonnets cleaned, by putting them into a cask into which a few brimstone matches are placed lighted. the fumes of the sulphur have the effect of destroying the color, or whitening the straw. the same effect may be produced by dipping the straw into the chloride of lime dissolved in water. to wash mouseline-de-laine.--boil a pound of rice in five quarts of water, and, when cool enough, wash in this, using the rice for soap. have another quantity ready, but strain the rice from this and use it with warm water, keeping the rice strained off for a third washing which, at the same time, stiffens and also brightens the colors. to bleach a faded dress.--wash the dress in hot suds, and boil it until the color appears to be gone; then rinse it and dry it in the sun. should it not be rendered white by these means, lay the dress in the open air, and bleach it for several days. if still not quite white, repeat the boiling. indelible marking ink, without preparation.-- ½ drachms nitrate of silver (lunar caustic), ounce distilled water, ½ ounce strong mucilage of gum arabic, ¾ drachm liquid ammonia; mix the above in a clean glass bottle, cork tightly, and keep in a dark place till dissolved, and ever afterwards. directions for use:--shake the bottle, then dip a clean quill pen in the ink, and write or draw what you require on the article; immediately hold it close to the fire, (without scorching) or pass a hot iron over it, and it will become a deep and indelible black, indestructible by either time or acids of any description. mixture for removing ink stains and iron-moulds.--cream of tartar and salts of sorrel, one ounce each; mix well, and keep in a stoppered bottle. to wash hair-brushes.--never use soap. take a piece of soda, dissolve it in warm water, stand the brush in it, taking care that the water only covers the bristles; it will almost immediately become white and clean; stand it to dry in the open air with the bristles downwards, and it will be found to be as firm as a new brush. to clean head and clothes-brushes.--put a table-spoonful of pearl-ash into a pint of boiling water. having fastened a bit of sponge to the end of a stick, dip it into the solution, and wash the brush with it; carefully going in among the bristles. next pour over it some clean hot water, and let it lie a little while. then drain it, wipe it with a cloth, and dry it before the fire. lola montez in her "arts of beauty" gives the following receipts for complexion, hair, &c:-- for the complexion.--"infuse wheat-bran, well sifted, for four hours in white wine vinegar, add to it five yolks of eggs and two grains of ambergris, and distill the whole. it should be carefully corked for twelve or fifteen days, when it will be fit for use. "distill two handfuls of jessamine flowers in a quart of rose-water and a quart of orange-water. strain through porous paper, and add a scruple of musk and a scruple of ambergris." to give elasticity of form.-- "fat of the stag or deer oz. florence oil (or olive oil) oz. virgin wax oz. musk grain. white brandy ½ pint. rose-water oz. "put the fat, oil, and wax into a well glazed earthen vessel, and let them simmer over a slow fire until they are assimilated; then pour in the other ingredients, and let the whole gradually cool, when it will be fit for use. there is no doubt but that this mixture, frequently and thoroughly rubbed upon the body on going to bed, will impart a remarkable degree of elasticity to the muscles. in the morning, after this preparation has been used, the body should be thoroughly wiped with a sponge, dampened with cold water." for the complexion.--"take equal parts of the seeds of the melon, pumpkin, gourd, and cucumber, pounded till they are reduced to powder; add to it sufficient fresh cream to dilute the flour, and then add milk enough to reduce the whole to a thin paste. add a grain of musk, and a few drops of the oil of lemon. anoint the face with this, leave it on twenty or thirty minutes, or overnight if convenient, and wash off with warm water. it gives a remarkable purity and brightness to the complexion. "infuse a handful of well sifted wheat bran for four hours in white wine vinegar; add to it five yolks of eggs and two grains of musk, and distill the whole. bottle it, keep carefully corked fifteen days, when it will be fit for use. apply it over night, and wash in the morning with tepid water." tooth-powder.-- "prepared chalk oz. cassia powder ½ oz. orris-root oz. "these should be thoroughly mixed and used once a day with a firm brush. "a simple mixture of charcoal and cream of tartar is an excellent tooth-powder." to whiten the hand.--"both spanish and french women--those, at least, who are very particular to make the most of these charms--are in the habit of sleeping in gloves which are lined or plastered over with a kind of pomade to improve the delicacy and complexion of their hands. this paste is generally made of the following ingredients:-- "take half a pound of soft soap, a gill of salad oil, an ounce of mutton tallow, and boil them till they are thoroughly mixed. after the boiling has ceased, but before it is cold, add one gill of spirits of wine, and a grain of musk. "if any lady wishes to try this, she can buy a pair of gloves three or four sizes larger than the hand, rip them open and spread on a thin layer of the paste, and then sew the gloves up again. there is no doubt that by wearing them every night they will give smoothness and a fine complexion to the hands. those who have the means, can send to paris and purchase them ready made. "if the hands are inclined to be rough and to chap, the following wash will remedy the evil. lemon-juice oz. white wine vinegar oz. white brandy ½ pint." for the hair.--"beat up the white of four eggs into a froth, and rub that thoroughly in close to the roots of the hair. leave it to dry on. then wash the head and hair clean with a mixture of equal parts of rum and rose-water." "honey-water.-- "essence of ambergris dr. essence of musk dr. essence of bergamot drs. oil of cloves drops. orange-flower water oz. spirits of wine oz. distilled water oz. "all these ingredients should be mixed together, and left about fourteen days, then the whole to be filtered through porous paper, and bottled for use. "this is a good hair-wash and an excellent perfume." "to remove pimples.--there are many kinds of pimples, some of which partake almost of the nature of ulcers, which require medical treatment; but the small red pimple, which is most common, may be removed by applying the following twice a-day:-- "sulphur water oz. acetated liquor of ammonia ¼ oz. liquor of potassa gr. white wine vinegar oz. distilled water oz." "to remove black specks or 'fleshworms.'--sometimes little black specks appear about the base of the nose, or on the forehead, or in the hollow of the chin which are called 'fleshworms,' and are occasioned by coagulated lymph that obstructs the pores of the skin. they may be squeezed out by pressing the skin, and ignorant persons suppose them to be little worms. they are permanently removed by washing with warm water, and severe friction with a towel, and then applying a little of the following preparation:-- "liquor of potassa oz. cologne oz. white brandy. oz. "the warm water and friction alone are sometimes sufficient." "to remove freckles.--the most celebrated compound ever used for the removal of freckles was called unction de maintenon, after the celebrated madame de maintenon, mistress and wife of louis xiv. it is made as follows:-- "venice soap oz. lemon-juice ½ oz. oil of bitter almonds ¼ oz. deliquidated oil of tartar ¼ oz. oil of rhodium drops "first dissolve the soap in the lemon-juice, then add the two oils, and place the whole in the sun till it acquires the consistence of ointment, and then add the oil of rhodium. anoint the freckly face at night with this unction, and wash in the morning with pure water, or, if convenient, with a mixture of elder-flower and rose-water. "to remove tan.--an excellent wash to remove tan is called crème de l'enclos, and is made thus: "new milk ½ pint. lemon-juice ¼ oz. white brandy ½ oz. "boil the whole, and skim it clear from all scum. use it night and morning. "a famous preparation with the spanish ladies for removing the effects of the sun and making the complexion bright, is composed simply of equal parts of lemon-juice and the white of eggs. the whole is beat together in a varnished earthen pot, and set over a slow fire, and stirred with a wooden spoon till it acquires the consistence of soft pomatum. this compound is called pommade de seville. if the face is well washed with rice-water before it is applied, it will remove freckles, and give a fine lustre to the complexion." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ transcriber's note: minor punctuation errors (e.g. missing, misprinted or misplaced punctuation) have been corrected without note. inconsistent hyphenation (e.g. ball room, ball-room; bon-bons, bonbons), spelling (e.g. visiters, visitors) and capitalization (e.g. neroli, neroli) have not been corrected. many of the "receipts" are nearly identical. this has not been changed. the following changes were made to the text: p. : admissable to admissible (black lace mittens are admissible) p. and : soiree to soirée p. : oclock to o'clock (thursday evening next, at o'clock) p. : left to right (on the upper right hand corner of your envelope) p. : violincello to violoncello (a piano, violin, and violoncello) p. : á to à (_à troistemps_) p. : missing "of" added (the most graceful of dances) p. : guaze to gauze (with a gauze of a different color) p. : kneedles to needles (needles should be of the smallest size) p. : extra close quote removed (entered that house.) p. : extra "the" removed (in the highest and lowest classes) p. : returnes to returns (she returns from her bridal tour) p. : double quotes to single quotes ('appetite,' says dr. combe, 'revives after repose.') p. : extra "a" removed (containing a mixture in equal portions) p. : crÃ�me to crÃ�me (crÃ�me de l'enclos.) p. : extra "of" removed (four ounces of butter) p. : inpair to impair (impair the color) p. : crême to crème (is called crème de l'enclos) p. : acquired to acquires (till it acquires) ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the man who pleases and the woman who charms by john a. cone "look out lovingly upon the world and the world will look lovingly in upon you." hinds & noble, publishers - - west th street, new york city _schoolbooks of all publishers at one store_ _third printing, february, ._ copyright, . by john a. cone, in the united states and great britain. entered at stationer's hall, london. all rights reserved. to my mother. contents. page the man who pleases the woman who charms the art of conversation good english tact in conversation the compliment of attention the voice good manners dress the optimist personal peculiarities suggestions from many sources preface. the makers of books have been divided into two classes--the creators and the collectors. in preparing this volume the author has made no claim to a place in the first division, for he has been, to a great extent, only a collector. the facts which the book contains are familiar to intelligent people, and the only excuse offered for presenting them in a new dress is that we need to be reminded often of some truths with which we are most familiar. in our daily intercourse with one another, we may forget to render to others that thoughtfulness and attention which we exact from them. we all know that the essence of courtesy is the purpose, in speech and manner, to be agreeable, attractive, and lovable, to awaken by our presence happy impressions in another. we all understand this, but we so easily forget it, or, at least, forget to put it into practice. courtesy is not the least of the christian virtues, and it should be studied as an art. the reader is requested to accept these chapters in the spirit in which they were prepared. they are not profound psychological studies, or even original essays, but only a bringing together of simple, yet important truths, which are of concern to us all. possibly they may be of some help--"lest we forget,----" the man who pleases. _the dearest friend to me, the kindest man, the best-conditioned and unwearied spirit in doing courtesies._ merchant of venice. _he hath a daily beauty in his life._ othello. _such a man would win any woman in the world if a' could get her good will._ much ado about nothing. there are few subjects of deeper interest to men and women than that of personal fascination, or what is sometimes called "personal magnetism." we commonly talk about it as though it were some mysterious quality of which no definite account could be given. "a man is fascinating," we say, "he is born magnetic; he has an indefinable charm which cannot be analyzed or understood," and, with the term "naturally magnetic," we hand the matter over to the world of mystery. is this quality of so bewildering a nature that it cannot be understood, or will a study of those men and women who possess preëminently the power of pleasing show us the secret of their influence, and prove to us that the gift of fascination is not, necessarily, innate, but that it can, to a great degree, be acquired? will we not find that what appears to be the perfection of naturalness is often but the perfection of culture? from all our well-known public men who have won the reputation of being "naturally magnetic," perhaps we could not select a better example than james g. blaine. with the possible exception of henry clay, no other political leader in our history, under all circumstances, had so devoted and determined a following. both clay and blaine possessed sympathetic and affectionate dispositions, and both understood human nature and the art of pleasing. it may be said that mr. blaine's popularity was due, in a great measure, to the brilliant and attractive nature of his public service, and this was, no doubt, true to a certain extent. no man knew better than he the importance of making the most of opportunities for dramatic and sensational display, and his methods of statesmanship were always calculated to please the multitude. his greatest power, however, was manifested in his winning men by direct and individual contact. one thing which assisted him in this direction was the fact that he was, perhaps, the most courteous of all the public men of his generation. whenever a stranger was introduced to him, a hearty handshake, a look of interest and an attentive and cordial manner assured him that mr. blaine was very glad to see him. if they chanced to meet again, after months or even years, the man was delighted to find that mr. blaine not only remembered his name, but that he had seemed to treasure even the most trivial recollections of their short acquaintance. he had a marvellous memory for faces and names, and he understood the value of this gift. this ability to remember faces is not difficult to acquire. we could all possess it if we would make sufficient effort. no two figures or countenances are precisely alike, and it is by noting how they differ one from another that you will remember them. in explaining his own remarkable memory for faces, thomas b. reed once said to a reporter that he never looked a man in the face that some striking peculiarity, a line, a wrinkle, an expression about the eye, the set of the lips, the shape of the nose, something set that man's face down in his mind indelibly, and distinguished him from the rest of mankind. blaine carefully trained himself to pick out some feature or peculiarity by which he could distinguish one face or person from all others and by which he could associate the name of the individual. the ability to remember names and faces is one of the most valuable accomplishments for the man in public life, or, indeed, for any man or woman who wishes social success. not only does it insure comfort to one's self, but it is especially pleasing to others. next to the comfort of being able to address by name and without hesitation a person one has met but once, and without mistake, is the comfort of being recognized one's self. another reason why mr. blaine was popular with the masses was because he was not difficult to approach, and he never missed a chance to be useful to a person who might some time, in turn, be useful to him. the _st. louis globe-democrat_ said shortly after his death: "it was not the habit of mr. blaine to wait for men to seek favors from him. he anticipated their desires, and doubled their obligations to him by doing voluntarily what might have been delayed for solicitation. that gave him the kind of popularity which outlasts defeat and resists all ordinary influences of criticism and hostility. he could always count upon a certain measure of unflinching and unconditional support, whatever forces happened to be arrayed against him; and he changed bitter enemies into zealous friends with a facility that was a source of constant surprise and wonder." but why should his success in attracting others to himself be a source of "surprise and wonder"? mr. blaine, in common with many other magnetic men and women, understood that the secret of personal fascination lies in one single point; that is, "in the power to excite in another person happy feelings of a high degree of intensity, and to make that person identify such feelings with the charm and power of the cherished cause of them." any quality, good or evil, that enables a man to do this, renders him fascinating, whether he be saint or sinner. indeed, some of the men who have been the most skilful in the art of pleasing have been scoundrels. said a writer in the _boston herald_: "it used to be said of aaron burr--so irresistible in charm of manner was the man--that he could never stop at the stand of the ugliest old crone of an apple-woman, without leaving on her mind when he went away the conviction that he regarded her as the fairest and most gracious of her sex. and so, had woman suffrage prevailed in his day, he would have had the solid vote of the apple-women for any office he might aspire to." aaron burr clearly understood that the woman does not exist who is wholly without sentiment, and he always appealed to that part of a woman's nature. he understood very well the truth of these words written by croly: "in the whole course of my life i never met a woman, from the flat-nosed and ebony-colored inhabitant of the tropics to the snow-white and sublime divinity of a greek isle, without a touch of romance; repulsiveness could not conceal it, age could not extinguish it, viscissitude could not change it. i have found it in all times and places, like a spring of fresh water, starting up even from the flint, cheering the cheerless, softening the insensible, renovating the withered; a secret whisper in the ear of every woman alive that to the last, affection might flutter its rosy pinions around her brow." burr, understanding this, left in the mind of the apple-woman the firm impression that he thought she must have been at one time a duchess, reduced in fortune by some accident, and now driven to the last refuge of an apple-stand, and that those sad facts evidently accounted for the traits of high breeding and delicate refinement so visible through all her present poverty. he understood the fact that all people live in two distinct worlds--the world of reality and the world of imagination. in the world of reality they use brooms and shovels, wash floors and dishes, or sell apples; in the other, they live in drawing rooms, feast sumptuously and are the wonder and admiration of mankind. "few people," continues the writer in the _herald_, "would believe that an ugly, dilapidated looking apple-woman could dwell in the enchanted realm of imagination just as much as the rich and favored do. but burr believed it, so when he spoke to the old crone, he went up, not to her withered and beggarly self, but to her ideal self, imaginatively entering into the duchess dream in her, and instinctively became deferential in his bearing. "forthwith the duchess in her came out to meet the courtly gentleman in him, and greetings were exchanged as between two incognito scions of noble lineage. each enjoyed the meeting, each had vividness enough of imagination to impart to it the flavor of reality, and to keep out of sight common, material facts." "but," you say, "not every man can make such an impression, for few are able to do and say things with the ease and grace of a burr. there must be a naturalness of manner which never suggests suspicion. let the average man attempt to force his nature and to manufacture smiles and looks of pleasure, and the old apple-woman will know at once that she is being fooled." very true, and it is not desirable that the average man should possess the ability of an aaron burr to influence others. few persons try as he did to acquire that power, but because the average man cannot at once exercise that potent influence over others which he did, it does not follow that we are unable to understand the secret of burr's success, nor is it evident that other men cannot acquire something of this power by thinking it worth while to do so. it would not be safe to say that all men can be equally successful, try as they will, in inspiring in others "happy feelings of a high degree of intensity," for nature has not been impartial in bestowing equally upon all the gifts of adaptation and expression. there are a few persons so constituted by temperament and mental organism that they exercise a depressing influence over their associates. they have a negative, flabby spirit that seems to operate, speaking figuratively, much as a wet shoe does upon one who is compelled to wear it. they draw upon the nervous strength and exhaust the patience of those who are compelled to be much in their company. but there are not many of this type. most of us could make far more progress in acquiring social graces and in the art of pleasing than we do. let us now consider some of the particular qualities which render a man pleasing to the opposite sex. of course different types of men please different women. some women care little for the moral element in men. they do not admire them for their goodness or nobility of character, but rather for their manners and their ability to flatter and say pleasing things. some women are fascinated by mere brute strength, but they are not many. rank, wealth, and social position are very attractive to some, but these things do not make the man himself more attractive to the true woman. while a girl is young, she may go into raptures over "a cameo profile, a burnes-jones head of hair, or a pre-raphaelite languor and pallor," but these things are bound to pall, and become absolutely distasteful. some even admire downright wickedness in men, and these are the women who send delicacies to murderers in prison, and overwhelm them with bouquets. but, fortunately, these types represent but a small fraction of the fair sex, and this chapter has to do only with the great majority; the intelligent, moral, cultured women of the land. what qualities in men are most attractive to them? physical beauty is always attractive in either sex, yet the handsome man has the advantage of his plainer rival only in this--he is able to draw attention to himself at once. he must, however, have something more to hold that attention. he may be physically an apollo, but if he be ill-mannered, dull or ignorant, he will stand no chance beside the man skilled in the artful polished ways of what is called society, who is master of that grace of manner and flexibility of speech which more than wealth, reputation, or personal attractiveness, win their way with women. it has been proven, again and again, that even ugliness of face and form is not, by any means, a bar to popularity with women, and while we are often amazed at the choice which brilliant, beautiful women sometimes make from a crowd of admirers, at the bottom of every apparent fantastic selection, there is a solid, and, usually, a sensible reason. ernest renan was certainly not handsome. he was exceedingly corpulent, his complexion was said to resemble nothing else so closely as tallow. he had claw-shaped hands, bushy gray eyebrows, and thin gray hair, yet wherever he went into society he was sure to be the center of an admiring group of women. he was not fascinating by reason of his ugliness, but in spite of it. there was enough in the subtle charm of his manner, and the melodious flow of his conversation, to make up for all outward deficiencies. liszt was not a handsome man--quite the contrary; yet probably no other man ever lived who exercised a more magnetic and potent influence over women. even when he had become gaunt and old, his eyes dim, his blonde hair snow-white, his spare, lean figure wrapped in a black, priestly gown, he was followed about by a train of fair admirers. chauteaubriand could charm at eighty-four, the abbé liszt at seventy-five, and aaron burr--who was by no means handsome--had at seventy a charm of manner that was irresistible. the fact is, one cannot recall half a dozen very talented men who were admired for their personal beauty. pope was very plain; dr. johnson was no better; mirabeau was "the ugliest man in france," and yet he was the greatest favorite with the fair sex. these examples are not cited to prove that women do not care for physical beauty in men. on the contrary, that is a very strong attraction, but not the most powerful factor in holding them. women more frequently prize men for their sterling qualities of mind than men do women. a perfection of physical beauty rarely associates itself with great mental ability in either sex, but still there have been some notable exceptions, especially among women, and every pretty woman who reads this may consider herself one of these exceptions. as a general thing, the man who pleases is the man who understands. it does not matter much to a woman whether a man has great and brilliant thoughts of his own, if he comprehends her wishes and her feelings, as well as her thoughts. he should, if he desires to please, make a careful study of that mysterious and complex thing--a woman's nature. he must understand that it is of a finer fibre than his own; that it is sensitive and easily hurt. he should have sentiment, but not be a sentimentalist. he will be wise, indeed, if he can skilfully draw the line between the two things. "sentiment is divine: sentimentalism absurd." he should be able to say much in little and he must not be a chatterer. a woman who talks too much becomes tiresome; a man who is an aimless talker is an intolerable bore to both sexes. few men understand a woman. they do not look at things from her point of view, and, therefore, do not realize to what extent civilized life has permitted her to assume that convention of manner and those civilities of speech which are in some harmless degree hypocritical. it could not be otherwise. her ideal of a man is a very high one, but she rarely meets him, and so she accepts the one who comes nearest to her ideal and makes the most of the situation. she would that he were different, but a woman can love in spite of very many things. usually she is obliged to if to love at all. she is much cleverer at love-making than a man. "she is an artist where he is a crude workman, and she does not go through a love scene without realizing how much better she could have done it if the title rôle had been given to her." if she is a woman of sensibility, she is shocked by a hundred disagreeable habits which many men think justifiable. she is repelled by awkwardness of manner, coarse modes of speech, by carelessness of person and dress, and yet, for all that, she loves. the lover who is most successful in retaining the affection of a sweetheart or a wife is the one who expresses over and over again the love and the tenderness he feels. women, more than men, like to hear things talked about. they are far more wide-awake to the value of trifles, and more sensitive to changes of mood. they are given to saying in many ways, with delicate variations, what a man is satisfied to state once for all, even to state badly. a man will believe in a woman's love and be satisfied with far fewer visible tokens of it than are necessary to confirm his tenderness and keep her convinced of it. the truth is that a man's power of pleasing does not depend upon some occult quality of which no account can be given, but upon the degree in which he holds certain attractive qualities--innate or acquired. we have no difficulty in understanding any single one of these qualities, yet when a man possesses such a combination of them as to entitle him to the term "fascinating" we pronounce it incomprehensible, and fall back upon that vague term, "personal magnetism." the personal elements which are most conducive to our influence over others are, in a broad way: good manners, a pleasing voice, the ability to converse well, personal neatness, taste in dress, tact, good morals, culture and refinement, physical beauty, and intellectual force. we are pleasing or offensive just in proportion to our possession of these very desirable characteristics, and, possibly, what we term "personal magnetism" is simply the result of a well-balanced development of some, or all, of these enviable characteristics. the woman who charms. _look on this woman. there is not beauty, not brilliant sayings, nor distinguished power to serve you; but all see her gladly; her whole air and impression are healthful. manners require time, as nothing is more vulgar than haste._ emerson. _possessed with such a gentle, sovereign grace, with such enchanting presence and discourse._ comedy of errors. _she's a most exquisite lady._ othello. is it the handsome woman? yes, sometimes, but not always. beauty is always attractive, but the handsome woman has the same advantage only that the handsome man possesses--she draws attention to herself at once. if she has nothing but her beauty to rely upon, she does not hold the attention. it was balzac who reminded us of the fact that nearly all of the most celebrated attachments in history were inspired by women in whom there were noticeable physical defects. mme. de pompadour, joanna of naples, cleopatra, la valliere--in fact, almost all the women whom a romantic love has invested with a halo of interest--were not without imperfections and even infirmities, while nearly all the women whose beauty is described to us as perfect, have been finally unhappy in their loves. "perhaps," says balzac, "men live by sentiment more than by pleasure. perhaps the charm, wholly physical, of a beautiful woman has its bounds, while the charm, essentially moral, of a woman of moderate beauty may be infinite." whether this be true or not, women surely overestimate the influence of mere physical beauty to attract and hold men. madame de staël, whose dominion over the hearts of all those with whom she came in contact is well known, declared that she would gladly give up all her gifts of person, and all her learning, if she could receive beauty in exchange. it was fortunate for her that her wish was not granted, for, had it been, probably she would have found her kingdom slipping away. while she did not have a beautiful face, she possessed physical characteristics and personal traits which rendered her absolutely fascinating. to a sensible man nothing is quite so insipid as a vain, brainless, tactless beauty, whose opinions are but echoes, and who imagines that her beauty alone will hold him chained to her chariot. beauty holds for a time, but after a man's eyes are satisfied, he must be entertained, and the plain girl who possesses brains and tact need have no fear of her more beautiful rival. modern research has proved that not sappho, not aspasia, nor even cleopatra were women who would have attracted any special attention by reason of their physical beauty. their highest charm was intellectual--the possession of an "immensity to give," as plutarch expresses it, in the way of grace and accomplishment. the idea that plain girls are allowed to run to waste as "unappropriated blessings," is not supported by evidence, for we are constantly meeting wives far plainer than the majority of the unmarried women of our acquaintance; and it frequently happens that a man who has a wife physically beautiful, becomes enamored of an exceedingly plain woman who possesses a certain quality of congeniality, some trait of adaptability which he misses in his partner. says a writer in _lippincott's_: "it is safe to make the broad generalization that a homely girl, all other things being equal, is likely to have fewer offers than a pretty girl, but quite as likely to receive the one offer which will make her a happy wife. but all other things (save the gift of beauty) seldom are equal between the homely and the pretty girl; by the natural law of compensation, the homely girl has either some inherent or some acquired ability that is lacking in the other, which asserts its charm as acquaintance progresses. beauty only has the start in the race." it frequently happens that the beauty makes the mistake of expecting to be entertained by her admirers, and does not exert herself to please. the plain girl, however, is often superior in tact, for being obliged to study human nature closely in order to get the most out of companionship, she learns to depend upon this knowledge in her efforts to please. she is not dazzled by admiration, nor is she unduly confident when she obtains it that she will retain it. mme. hading, who is a strikingly handsome woman, and, therefore, can discuss beauty without falling under suspicion, once said: "a woman is very unfortunate who has nothing but beauty to insure her success. there are other things superior to beauty. taste, good taste, brains, tact, health, those are the things a woman must have to hold people. and then there are good manners--so rare and yet so easily cultivated. to be refined, to be gentle, to be amiable, to be charitable in thought and in speech, to be intelligent, is to be charming, in spite of an unattractive body and an ugly face. to be well born is, indeed, to be blessed, but to rise above low birth is sublime. the greatest painter of the age could make only a caricature of a face for the empress josephine, and yet the sweetness of her smile and the charm of her pleasing and gracious ways immortalized her name. there are other ends to happiness than mere wealth; there are sweeter things in a woman's face than beauty." again, the woman who charms is not necessarily young. history is full of accounts of women who have been fascinating when beyond middle life. the truest and strongest love is not always inspired by the beauty of twenty. the enthusiasm over sweet sixteen is not supported by the old experience which teaches that the highest beauty is not found in immaturity. louis xiv. wedded mme. maintenon when she was forty-three years old. catherine ii. of russia was thirty-three when she seized the empire of russia and captivated the dashing young gen. orloff. even up to the time of her death--at sixty-seven--she seemed to have retained the same bewitching power, for the lamentations were heartfelt among all those who had ever known her personally. cleopatra was considerably over thirty when antony fell under her spell, which never lessened until her death, nearly ten years later. livia was thirty-three when she won the heart of augustus, over whom she maintained her ascendancy until the last. aspasia did not wed pericles until she was thirty-seven, and for more than thirty years after that she was regarded as one of the most fascinating women of her time. ninon de l'enclos, the most celebrated wit of her day, was the idol of three generations of the golden youth of france, and she was seventy-two when the abbé de berais fell in love with her. helen of troy, the celebrated greek beauty, was over forty-five when she took part in the most famous elopement in history; and as the siege of troy lasted ten years, she must have been at least fifty-five when the ill-fortune of paris restored her to her husband, who is reported to have received her with unquestioned love and gratitude. mlle. mars, the celebrated actress, was most attractive at forty-five, and mme. récamier was at the zenith of her good looks and of her power to please when between thirty-five and fifty-five. diana de poitiers was over thirty-six when henry ii., then duke of orleans, and just half her age, became attached to her, and she was regarded as the first lady and the most beautiful woman at court up to the time of the monarch's death and the accession to power of catherine de medici. the common idea that the mature beauty of forty is less fascinating than that of the girl of seventeen or eighteen is without foundation. by beauty is not meant merely well-formed features and a fresh complexion--these things even dolls possess. in spite of the rosy, fresh complexion bestowed upon youth by nature, a woman's best and richest age is really between thirty-five and forty-five, and sometimes considerably beyond that period. no one would dare say how old madame patti is. everyone who meets her exclaims at her marvellous youthfulness and vivacity. patti's explanation of her bright eyes, smooth skin and happy expression is given in a few words: "i have kept my temper. no woman can remain young who often loses her temper." as a woman grows older, she ought to become more attractive in certain ways than she could be in her youth. one of the most needful things for attaining this result is good health. fine muscles, a healthy, glowing skin, eyes bright with energy and ambition--these make a valuable foundation for the woman who would be attractive. the woman who, at a certain age, considers herself _passé_, commits a great error. if she so regards herself; if she believes she has passed the time when she can be interesting, others are quite likely to find her unattractive. surely a woman should be more interesting after she leaves the period of girlhood. she ought to be able to converse better, she should possess more wisdom, greater tact, broader knowledge of human nature; and she should have more repose, more grace of manner. indeed, she should have all her accomplishments well in hand, and be more facile in their use for the pleasure of others; and she will be able to use them to better advantage if she has cultivated placidity of temper, human sympathy and generosity, and is not careless of her personal appearance. it frequently happens that women who have reached middle life neglect many of the aids to physical beauty which they once carefully followed. they are careless about dress, and grow to esteem it excusable to dispense with those simple and necessary accessories of the toilet which formerly helped to make them so exquisitely fresh and dainty. they grow accustomed to think that untidiness must necessarily be associated with drudgery. but in these days it is becoming more possible to carry the element of refinement and beauty with us everywhere. many women could seem much finer, more delicate than they appear, if they were not accustomed to think that a certain homeliness, and even negligence of attire is quite excusable, and, indeed, almost inseparable from common work-a-day life. as we grow older, it becomes more necessary that we use care in always presenting that appearance of personal neatness which never fails to be attractive to those with whom we come in contact. one of the strongest elements a woman can possess to attract the other sex is a sympathetic interest in a man's work. this was what attracted dr. schliemann, the famous greek scholar and explorer, to the young woman whom he married. she was familiar with the iliad and the odyssey, and was an enthusiast upon the subject of uncovering the ancient cities of homer. men like to have women interested in the things in which they themselves are interested. one who has read richard harding davis' "soldiers of fortune" may remember that clay grew very fond of miss langham. his first disappointment in her came to him when he discovered her lack of interest in his work of opening up the iron mines in south america. miss langham's younger sister, hope, was, on the other hand, extremely interested in the mines, made an exhaustive study of the methods of mining, and when she, with the other members of the family, visited the scene of clay's engineering operations, it was she who drew clay's attention to herself by intelligent questions and suggestive remarks. he was delighted with her, admired her, fell in love with her, and then married her. that day at the mines was the beginning of the end of the old love, and the awakening of the new. to interest men a woman should, by reading the papers, acquire, and be able to express, a reasonably clear idea of what is happening in the world. she should ascertain what is of special interest to the particular man she wishes to attract, and, whether the subject be politics, business, out-door sports, art, science, or literature, she should be able to contribute something in a conversation upon that subject more interesting than a mere yes or no. as it is the manly man who wins and satisfies a good woman, so it is the womanly woman who pleases and retains the regard of the estimable man. men like the womanly woman. she need not be soft or silly, weak or nervous; she may be strong, vigorous, resolute, and brave. a man has little sympathy for the girl who imitates men either in dress, manner or conversation. if a womanly man is not pleasing to either sex, what shall we say of a manlike woman! he thoroughly expresses the writer's view who said: "a perfect woman may be adorable; a woman who is perfect would be beyond endurance." yet, however irreligious a man may be himself, he always dislikes irreverence in a woman. he wishes and expects his wife to be better than he is, and, generally, she is. men do not like the over-dressed woman--the one who goes to the extreme of a fashion and a little further. he does not care for costliness of apparel, but he is always attracted by freshness and daintiness. a sense of humor is a valuable gift in a woman who wishes to please. men like the girl who sees the funny side of a thing; who can make them laugh; who can be witty without being sarcastic; who can jest and not be malicious; who can relate humorous experiences without saying things calculated to make others uncomfortable. a man likes a woman who entertains and amuses him. young girls often express surprise that one of their number is so popular among men. they know she is not so pretty as dozens of other girls. she is not dressed so richly as they are, yet, at a party, she will have half a dozen young men about her while they are neglected and alone. she must, they conclude, have that indefinable quality of magnetism, and that is all that can be said about it, and they could not find out the secret if they tried. but probably there is no secret about it. although she is not pretty, and does not possess a vast amount of information, she has tact, and a quick and electric vivacity of spirit which acts as a breeze on the sluggish waters, making ripples of pleasure and laughter, and so produces an exhilarating effect upon all about her. many young men, if diffident or awkward, feel, it may be, a little out of place. they hardly know what to do or say, but this particular girl wakes them up, and they find themselves laughing and talking with astonishing ease. she understands how to make them feel at ease, how to draw them out, and as they associate with her they become unusually elated, and it is not at all strange that in every company they look eagerly for her presence. while, judging from the descriptions and representations which we have of her, cleopatra was by no means beautiful, there is no mystery about her fascinating influence over men. "she had," said a writer in _the boston herald_, "jaded roman conquerors to deal with, men sated with every form of mere animal pleasure. there was no piquancy left in anything; all had palled and staled on their cloyed palates. but in cleopatra was evermore something fresh, unexpected, perfectly original! "no wonder the bystanders cried, 'age cannot wither nor custom stale her infinite variety.' what had she to fear from the rivalship of mere youth and beauty so long as her nimble intellect was fertile, like the nile floods, in successive harvests, in the one quality her lovers were ready to lavish kingdoms for, namely, 'infinite variety.'" to go back to the definition of personal fascination given in the preceding chapter, we repeat that it consists "in the power to excite in another person happy feelings of a high degree of intensity, and to make that person identify such feelings with the charm and power of the cherished cause of them." there may be such a thing as the "indefinite quality of magnetism" which draws people to the possessor whether they will or no; but there are many personalities who are charming because they have willed to be, because by painstaking perseverance they have acquired those characteristics which enable them to please and charm all with whom they come in contact. the art of conversation. "_though conversation, in its better part, may be esteemed a gift and not an art, yet much depends, as in the tiller's toil, on culture and the sowing of the soil._" cowper. _in all countries where intelligence is prized, a talent for conversation ranks high among accomplishments. to clothe the thoughts in clear and elegant language, and to convey them impressively to the mind of another, is no common attainment._ mrs. sigourney. the man or woman who is an intelligent, tactful conversationalist, commands one of the most essential elements of a pleasing address. while all of us may have certain defects which we cannot wholly overcome, however earnestly we may try, we can, if we will, re-form our conversation. we can so train ourselves that good nature, considerateness and benevolence will always have a place in our intercourse with others. we can, if we will, use good english, and we can avoid the temptation, so common, to talk of persons rather than of things. theoretically, we despise gossip; practically, most of us add our mite to the common fund. we may not be ill-natured, and the sweet charity that "thinketh no evil" may have a home in our hearts; yet sometimes, if we are not watchful, it may fall asleep, and bitterness, or the spirit of spitefulness come creeping stealthily to the surface. we can, if we will, be intellectually honest--a kind of honesty which is indeed rare. the principal reason why arguments and discussions lead to so must dissatisfaction and ill-feeling on the part of the disputants, is the lack of this quality. two men are engaged in conversation and a question of religious belief or of politics is brought to the front. each takes a side in the discussion and maintains his opinions to the end. neither is searching for the truth, but is eager to defend his side of the question against the attacks of his opponent. it does not occur to either that anything else can be the truth except the things he has been taught to believe. to both, the truth simply takes the form of their own opinions; and since they are most firmly attached to their opinions, neither ever questions his own devotion to the truth. such persons can scarcely be said to use their minds at all, for their thinking has been done by some one else. many a hostess is obliged tactfully to separate aggressively argumentative and disputatious guests, who have never learned that others have an equal right to their own opinions, and that not every dinner party is the proper occasion to plunge into heated argument in the hope of changing another's views. again, we can all avoid the habit of exaggeration--a fault which does not get itself called by the name of "falsehood," but which is in dangerously close proximity to it. a man hears something, true enough in its original shape, but he passes it on with a little addition of his own. the one to whom he tells it adds his touch of exaggeration, until, at last, the statement is so swollen and distorted as to convey anything but the real truth. it would be difficult to charge any one with deliberate prevarication. the result is a sort of accumulative lie, made by successive individual contributions of little dashes of exaggeration. thousands who would never be guilty of inventing an entire story derogatory to the reputation of another, are constantly contributing to the formation of these accumulative falsehoods, which are quite as evil in their results as though conceived and concocted by one person. we can put into requisition a nice sense of honor in our conversation. in a hundred different ways this most fitting attribute of the true woman and the real gentleman is often put to the test. we can remember that it is quite as easy to be ill-mannered in speech as in conduct. there are men and women who, at a dinner, would not under any circumstances, transgress the rules of table etiquette, but who may offend quite as grossly by a thoughtless or an intemperate use of words. they may not dispense with the fork, but they wound the heart by unkind words. they may observe all the amenities from oyster-fork to finger-bowl, yet they offend some member of the company by sarcasm or personal innuendo. they may not misplace or misuse the napkin, but they may render the entire company uncomfortable by declining to yield, in argument, to the greater weight of evidence; or by overloading a story with unimportant details. they may be scrupulously neat, and of easy and graceful deportment, but may never have learned the gentle art of keeping one's temper sweet when criticised or when confronted by a contradiction. these very suggestive words appeared in "the churchman": "it is almost a definition of a gentleman to say that he is one who never inflicts pain. the true gentleman carefully avoids whatever may cause a jar or a jolt in the minds of those with whom he is cast. he has his eyes on all his company; he is tender toward the bashful, gentle toward the distant, and merciful toward the absurd. he avoids unreasonable allusions on topics which may irritate; he is seldom prominent in conversation, and never wearisome. another delightful trait in him is that he makes light of favors when he bestows them, and seems to be receiving when he is conferring. he never speaks of himself except when compelled, never defends himself by a mere retort. he has no ears for slander or gossip; is scrupulous in imputing motives to those who interfere with him, and interprets everything for the best. he is never mean or small in his disputes, never insinuates evil which he dare not say out. he has too much good sense to be affronted at insults, and is too well employed to remember injuries. he may be right or wrong in his opinions, but he is too clear-headed to be unjust. he is as simple as he is forcible, and as brief as he is decisive." the entertaining talker is not, of necessity, a great talker; he is often a good listener. he understands that a bright story, briefly told, will amuse, but that people are bored by a long story, filled with pointless details. he is not necessarily learned or profound. he understands that small change is of as much importance in social intercourse as it is between men in business. "although deprecated by some wise people as vain and frivolous," says _zion's herald_, "small talk has a legitimate function in human intercourse. it is the small coin of conversation. those who despise its use often get on as badly in social life as would the merchant who should exclude the dimes and quarters from his money-drawer. without them, the wheels of trade would be blocked. an honest old copper penny will often turn the corner of a good bargain. chit-chat gives ease to conversation. the strait-jacket is removed; the mental forces have full play; the man acts himself; and the communication of soul with soul becomes free and delightful. with small talk he is familiar, and can toss it about as a juggler does his cards. the philosopher with his learned and exact phrases at once deadens the flow of soul." men and women are not strictly original. the things we say to-day have been said just as well a thousand times before; but that forms no reason why we should not say them again. the coins in your purse have been through a hundred hands and are not the less useful in serving you again. the fellowship enjoyed rather than the store of wisdom communicated, is the end of conversation. whether they say anything of importance or not, we like to hear some persons talk; they inspire us and set our own mental machinery in motion. small talk often brings us most readily in contact with another soul. all good conversationalists know the use of small talk. to be sure, they know something more, something larger and better, but the chinks in the larger subject are filled in wonderfully by a familiar interpolation of the smaller things in a chatty way. many a wise and learned man would be a better talker if he had at hand a supply of small coin. he can talk extremely well on serious and recondite subjects, but the quick jest and easy repartee of the parlor and the dining-room are beyond him. he is, in spite of his learned lore, at a disadvantage in society, where there is no time for homilies or for treatises on erudite topics. persons less gifted chat and laugh and have a good time while he sits in gloomy silence. those who would please and be pleased in social intercourse must carry with them and be ready to dispense the small change of light and witty conversation. to be popular in society, find out whether your companion prefers to talk or listen; avoid personalities; endeavor to lead the conversation to subjects familiar and interesting to others rather than especially pleasing to yourself; never indulge in sarcasm; be good-natured and sympathetic; strive to be tactful; exchange small courtesies; talk to all with equal attention and interest, and whatever the topic of conversation, or wherever you may be, appear cheerfully contented. acquire, and then exhibit, that adaptability to place and people which conduces ever to grateful and pleasing companionship. william mathews writes in _success_: "conversation rules the destiny of the state and of the individual; from diplomacy, which is essentially the art of conversing skilfully on political themes, down to the daily transactions of the mart and the exchange, its empire is evident to all. "such being the potency and importance of conversation, why is so little attention given to its culture to-day? why is it that so many educated men, who are fastidious regarding their personal appearance, and bestow upon their bodies the most solicitous care, are yet willing to send their minds abroad in a state of slovenliness, regardless of the impression they make?" good english. _we should be as careful of our words as of our actions._ cicero. an accomplishment, in its accepted meaning, is "something acquired which perfects or makes complete; an attainment which tends to equip in character, manner, or person, and which gives pleasure to others." surely, then, the man or woman who desires to please cannot possess too many accomplishments; and, accepting the definition just given, is there any other accomplishment of greater importance than facility in speaking and writing one's native language with ease and with elegance? is there any other single test of culture so conclusive as this? is it not the matter, and, particularly, the method of one's speech more than anything else which impresses the person whom we meet for the first time, either favorably or unfavorably in regard to our acquirements? we may have but few opportunities during a lifetime to display our knowledge of geometry, algebra or astronomy; we may be for weeks in the company of other people without giving them an opportunity to suspect that we possess any knowledge of latin or greek, but as long as we live, and every day we live, we are giving evidences of facility or awkwardness in the use of our mother tongue. how much time is wasted in practicing upon unresponsive musical instruments--unresponsive because not touched by sympathetic fingers! how much time is spent in acquiring a slight knowledge of french and german, which results, generally, in an ability to use a few simple phrases, and to translate easy sentences with the aid of a dictionary! how many young women, with no artistic ability whatever, spend weeks and months under the instruction of teachers in vain attempts to produce something in oil or in water-color worthy to be called a picture! how much more to the advantage of these young women would it be if a part of this time were spent in acquiring a better understanding of the use of english! the writer once knew a girl who, after playing a selection upon the piano, left the room and burst into tears because she had been guilty of a slight blunder in her execution--a blunder not noticed by two of the twenty persons assembled in the parlor. this same girl, however, exhibited, habitually, a carelessness in pronunciation, and an ignorance of english grammar of which she should have been heartily ashamed, and which caused far more annoyance to her friends than her blunders in music. boys and girls should be trained to feel that it is as discreditable to them to confound the parts of speech in conversation, as it is to make discords in music, or to finish a picture out of drawing, or to be guilty of some inadvertence of manner. they should be made to feel that proficiency in music, french, german, or painting, or any other accomplishment, so-called, will not compensate for slovenliness of diction. in addressing a girl's school, bishop huntington once said: "probably there is not an instrument in common use, from a pencil to a piano, which is used so imperfectly as language. if you will let me be plain, i suspect that it would be safe to offer a gold medal as a prize to any young lady here who will not, before to-morrow night, utter some sentence that cannot be parsed; will put no singulars and plurals in forbidden connections; will drop no particles, double no negatives, mix no metaphors, tangle no parentheses; begin no statement two or three times over without finishing it; and not once construct a proposition after this manner: "when a person talks like that, they ought to be ashamed of it.'" these are frank statements to address to a class of young ladies; but the bishop's implication would hold with equal truth not only in the case in point, but also with a large number of the high schools, seminaries and colleges of this country. surely such a charge against the other practical branches of study could not be made and sustained. when james russell lowell said: "we are the most common-schooled and the least educated people in the world," he might have added that the statement was especially applicable to our habits of using or abusing our mother tongue. this general indifference to good english is not, in most instances, the result of a lack of knowledge, for time enough is devoted to the study of technical grammar in almost all schools, to enable the pupil to become thoroughly acquainted with the principles which govern the use of our language. it is because many persons, not having acquired the habit of correct speech, do not think to apply the rules of grammar in conversation. were children accustomed from infancy to hear only correct english, there would be but little need to memorize arbitrary rules of grammar, for they would, from habit, speak and write correctly. thus it is that the children of educated parents are generally so easy and graceful in their conversation, contrasted with the children of the uneducated. our language, like our manners, is caught from those with whom we associate. several other nations are far in advance of our own in the thoroughness with which their youth are drilled in the use of language. in france, a knowledge of the french language, spoken and written, is regarded as of special importance. in all entrance examinations, or examinations for promotion or graduation, the pupil's knowledge of his native tongue is first determined; and no promotions are allowed, and no diplomas granted, if the student is notably deficient in this regard, even though his knowledge of the other required branches should prove to be all that could be desired. we have not so high a standard in the united states. it has been but a few years since a definite knowledge of english was added to the requirements for admission to american colleges, and even now it has not, in any of our educational institutions, the relative weight in determining examinations which french and german have in the systems of those countries. while great improvement has been made in teaching english, and while better methods are employed than formerly, it is still safe to say that in no other branch of study, pursued with equal diligence, are the results so unsatisfactory. surely in no other way do we so clearly show the degree of our culture and refinement as by our every-day conversation. is it not important, then, that we devote our efforts seriously, and with infinite patience, if necessary, to mastering a matter so essential? the selection of good english does not necessarily imply either a stilted monotony of speech, or a tiresome affectation. it is simply elegance and naturalness. there is no reason why any person, however humble his station in life, should not hope to speak his native language correctly. it is an accomplishment which is not expensive. in its acquirement one does not require high-priced teachers. it demands only care and attention. be critical of yourself. watch your sentences. get your companions to correct your slips of the tongue. say over correctly the troublesome sentence until the mistake becomes impossible. listening to well educated persons and reading the best literature are both of great assistance in this direction, especially if we offer to both the sincere flattery of imitation. our literature teems with masterpieces of style. to read them consistently is to imbibe a certain facility of diction. there are many persons who, while they do not violate the rules of technical grammar, habitually indulge in slang, hyperbole, and in many "weeds of speech" which should be pulled up promptly and cast aside. a great many boys and girls, and even some older persons, imagine that the use of slang lends piquancy and force to their conversation. slang is always an element of weakness. it is bad enough in a man, but in women it is far more questionable. it is not the expression of the refined. to the cultivated taste it is discordant. another fault prevalent among girls is the habit of hyperbole. perfectly, awfully, nice, and splendid, are the four most overworked words, and awfully is the most abused of them all. it is strange, the hold this word has secured in the vocabulary of girls who, in almost all other respects, are considerate in their use of english. persons are called awfully good, awfully bad, awfully clever, awfully stupid, awfully nice, awfully jolly and awfully kind. it is made to do duty on all occasions and under all circumstances, as though it were the only adverb admissible in good society. among adjectives, splendid easily ranks as the most popular. to many, everything is splendid, whether it is a flower, a sunset, a dinner, a football game, a friend, a sermon, or a book. then we are continually hearing that certain things are _perfectly_ splendid, _perfectly_ lovely, _perfectly_ hateful, _perfectly_ glorious, _perfectly_ magnificent and _perfectly_ sweet. how word-stricken society would do without these expressions it is difficult to determine, yet certain it is that the woman who deals recklessly in superlatives demonstrates forthwith that her judgment is dominated by her impulses, that her opinions are of doubtful reliability, and her criticisms valueless. in a recent number of one of the popular magazines prof. brander matthews has an article on the prevailing indifference in regard to the proper use of words. the points which he emphasizes are these: the gentleman is never indifferent, never reckless in his language. the sloven in speech is quite as offensive as a sloven in manner and dress. the neat turning of a phrase is as agreeable to the ear as neatness of person is to the refined taste. a man should choose his words at least as carefully as he chooses his clothing; even a hint of the dandy is not objectionable, if it be but a hint. it is even better to go to the extreme of fastidiousness than to indulge the opposite extreme of negligence. the art of writing letters is but another phase of the same matter. indeed it is but conversation carried on with the pen, when distance or circumstances prevent the easier method of exchanging ideas by spoken words. it is an art which should be faithfully cultivated by those who desire to please. in social life, in business, in almost every other circumstance of life, we find our pen called into requisition. yet while it is an almost indispensable accomplishment, it is one which is pitifully neglected. the art of letter-writing is becoming obsolete; that is, the art of writing such letters as enriched the epistolary literature of a former generation. this is unfortunate, as there is nothing that will so stimulate thought, and bring into activity, practical, every-day niceties of phrase as the exercise of this art. constant drill in letter-writing will tend to take from one's vocabulary words which have no place there, and will accomplish quite as much as any other means to broaden, beautify, and to refine the language at our command, as well as to train the mind to exact habits of thinking. a further important consideration is the charm which "a gem of a letter" has for the delighted recipient. the indispensable requisites of a good letter are neatness of chirography, simplicity, and grammatical correctness. defects in any one of these particulars are scarcely pardonable. we cannot all be pretty writers, but we can all write legibly and give to the page the appearance of neatness. scribbling is inexcusable. "a scribbled page points to a scribbling mind, while clear, legible handwriting is not only an indication of clear thinking, but a means and promoter of accurate thought. indeed, simply as a business proposition, one cannot afford to become a slovenly penman." "and who," says _the philadelphia record_, "does not know the charm of a gracefully worded, legibly written letter, with its wide margins, its clear, black ink and dainty stationery? an art, indeed, is the writing of such a missive; an art which it behooves every woman to cultivate. a hastily written line betraying signs of carelessness, and scrawled on an indifferent sheet of paper is a poor compliment, indeed, to the receiver, and elicits anything but flattering comments upon the writer." careless speech is quite bad enough, but the charm of the speaker may be so great as to disarm criticism. the letter, however, the written word, stands on its own merits; "what is writ is writ." there is no graceful vivacity to plead for the writer; no coquetry of manner to distract the glance of the reader from the errors coldly set forth in black and white. observe, then, the utmost care in inditing an epistle, whether to a friend or foe or to a lover. never send forth a letter in undress, so to speak, scarcely more than you would present yourself _en dishabille_ before your most formal acquaintances. the one is almost as flagrant as the other. tact in conversation. _"ask only the well about their health."_ _discretion in speech is more than eloquence._ bacon. _brilliancy in conversation is to the company what a lighted candle is to a dark room--it lightens the whole of it. but every now and then some unskilful person, in attempting to clip the wick to make it brighter, snuffs it out._ james c. beeks. seldom does there occur in society any lapse so astonishing as the uncomfortable remarks innocently made by men and women to each other. some persons who are careful and considerate in other respects, seem to have a woeful lack of that quality which we call tact. they wish to be pleasing; they would not for the world intentionally say or do anything to injure or wound the sensitiveness of a friend; yet they are continually saying those "things that would better have been left unsaid." _harper's bazar_ mentions some of these speeches which have no excuse for being. "what a dear little fellow that is!" said a caller to the mother of a three-year-old. "he is a great comfort to us," replied the mother, stroking the child's long curls. "yes; i should think so. he is not pretty, is he? his hair is so beautiful now that at the first glance one would call him pretty. but if you imagine how he will look when those golden curls are cut off, you will see that he will be a very plain child." said another woman to an acquaintance: "mrs. a., i hope you will pardon me for saying that i think i never saw a more beautiful piece of lace than the flounce on the gown that you wore to the assembly ball last week. i said to my husband afterward that if mr. a. should fail again and lose everything, as he has done once or twice already, you could sell that lace and easily get a good price for it." the same woman, while making a visit of several weeks, said to her hostess, as the time of her departure drew near: "i always think that the nicest thing about making a visit is the returning to one's home. one's family are always so glad to see one, and there is always great luxury to me in getting back to my own house, where i can do what i please, say what i please, and order what i want to eat." again, there are people who seem to think that it is their mission to puncture every person's infirmity with whom they come in contact. they study to speak disagreeably. they corner you in the social circle, and talk about the subject they know to be most disagreeable to you, and talk in a tone sufficiently loud to be heard by all the other persons in the room. if you have made a blunder they reveal it. if you have been unsuccessful in any of your undertakings they are sure to inquire about it, even to details. they unroll your past and dilate upon your future. they put you on the rack every time you meet them and there is an instinctive recoil when you perceive their approach. "we all know these persons," says _zion's herald_, "the persons who always utter the unsuitable word, who make themselves generally disagreeable, who never, apparently, try to make a pleasing impression upon others, but who delight to sting and wound." are we not all acquainted with the neighbor mentioned in this quotation: "as a brief and sharp tormentor, as a nail in the boot, a rocker for the shins on a dark night, or a sharp angle for the ulnar nerve, mrs. r----, our neighbor, excels all persons i ever saw. i am quite sure if she could disturb a corpse by whispering to it that its shroud was ill-fitting, and the floral gifts were not what had been expected, she would do it." if you are a woman have you not more than once gone out for a walk with some other woman who is never satisfied with your appearance? she gives your gown a pull, saying: "this dress never did fit you; it isn't at all becoming to you, why didn't you wear your other one?" you soon begin to feel uncomfortable, and to wish you were at home again. your bonnet may be never so becoming, or your new jacket may fit you to perfection, but she never mentions either. she notices only defects; she sees all that is disagreeable. such persons always leave an uncomfortable feeling behind them when they leave you. sarcasm is not a quality to be cultivated by either sex. men do not like it in women. it may be amusing when it is directed against another, but there is always a lurking fear that it may some time be directed against one's self. sarcasm is a rank weed, that, once sprouted, grows and grows, choking out the little plants of kindness, forethought and consideration, until it overruns the garden of the mind, dominating and controlling every thought with a disagreeable, pungent odor that cannot be eradicated. the sarcastic girl is not fascinating, for she is not a pleasing companion. she is too sharp to be agreeable. she may possess talent above the average of her acquaintances; she may be able to talk in half a dozen different languages; she may be as beautiful as a greek statue; but men fight shy of her. sarcasm is not wit, though wit may be sarcastic. one may be bright and say all manner of clever things without hurting the feelings of others by keen, knife-edged opinions that are full of bitterness and teeming with gall. the tactful person does not make the mistake of talking too much about himself. while we are young, at least, we are very interesting to ourselves, and we are likely to imagine that all the world is interested in our opinions, prejudices and tastes. but though this may be true of our dearest friends, it is not true as far as other people are concerned. "without question," says the _magnet_, "our conversation must be based upon what we have experienced in one way or another. but that does not make it necessary for us to talk continually about ourselves. if we should examine carefully the things we say to the merest acquaintances, we would be astonished, oftentimes, to see that we assume an interest in ourselves which we have no right to expect." people who are ill are likely to make indiscriminate claims upon sympathy, entertaining strangers as well as friends with detailed descriptions of their latest symptoms, and the doctor's latest remedies. some of us who have not the excuse of illness, impose on the persons we meet by obliging them to listen to a great deal of personal information which may be of interest to ourselves, and possibly to those who love us very dearly, but scarcely to any one else. several years ago the _christian union_ related this incident: the social occasion was a dinner. one of the guests was a woman who had passed middle life; good taste, ample means, with womanly grace and natural refinement, made her an addition to any circle. the hostess of the occasion was a woman who prided herself on her ability to meet the requirements of her station. she had no doubt as to her fitness in any social capacity, but her friends had not the same unquestioning faith in her tact. the gentle guest found to her delight that she was assigned to the care of the son of an old school friend, and inwardly thanked her hostess for the consideration and thoughtfulness which made it possible for her to hear from her friend, whom she had not met in years. the guests were no sooner seated at the table than the hostess leaned toward the young man, and, in a voice perfectly audible to the entire company, said: "never mind, bob, i will do better for you next time." for one minute there was perfect silence, the lady and her escort alike appalled by what had been said; but the kindliness of the guest overcame the embarrassing moment by calling the attention of the young man to the roses on the table, which, she said to him with a smile, were great favorites of his mother when she was in school. this broke the ice. the hostess was perfectly unconscious that she had been guilty of any rudeness. her intention was to be particularly polite to the young man; first to assure him that he would be her guest again, and, secondly, that she would then have a rosebud to assign to his care. the amusing part was that the young man greatly admired his mother's friend, and had frequently been her guest on his visits to the city. it is difficult to imagine how a woman could move in society to any extent and remain capable of such a blunder, and yet we have all passed through similar experiences at the hands of people whose social experience should render such tactlessness impossible. there comes to mind now an imposing woman, who prided herself on the fact that she always said just what she thought. at a reception, she filled the room by her manner; it was impossible to continue oblivious of her presence. bowing affably to her acquaintances, she sailed--for women of this type do not walk--up to a modest little lady whose health, she had heard, was declining, and in a loud voice exclaimed: "what have you been doing to yourself? you have aged fifteen years since last i saw you!" not unkind by intention, she was but practising her system of saying just what she thought, and she was constantly urging upon her friends the propriety of this course; but what an unbearable place our world would be if we all followed this example of inane and inconsiderate bluntness. so the woman who is always finding in you resemblances to some other person whom she has met, creates many of the uncomfortable experiences of social life, and when she thinks it interesting to exploit the character of your prototype, dwelling upon the mental and physical defects, she becomes unbearable. yet society has, as yet, found no sure way to eliminate her. such infelicities are not the outcrop of unkindness so much as of a certain ineptitude or lack of _savoir faire_. such people feel constrained to do their share of the talking, but have not acquired tactfulness in selecting the topic, nor alertness to avoid the pitfalls--both of which traits may by sedulous self-training be acquired by any one in whom, unhappily, they are not innate. in one of these instances bad manners were the natural expression of the woman, because her impulse was selfish; for it is certainly true that a person of truly unselfish nature will not offend by making personal remarks. manners are the expression of the heart, and the man or woman who lives mentally in kindly, thoughtful relations with fellow men and women will refrain from expressing the thought which might possibly give offence. there is no mystery in social grace. it is remembering other people in their several relations to us. the woman who is a social success is not the one who has for her purpose in life so much the desire merely to please, but the one whose desire, rather, is to make others happy. one is a polite purpose; the other is a fine type of unselfishness that makes impossible the utterance of unwelcome truths to the chagrin of anyone encountered in the casual personal contact that we term society. holmes gave us some good advice when he said: "don't flatter yourselves that friendship authorizes you to say disagreeable things to your intimates. on the contrary, the nearer you come into relation with a person, the more necessary do tact and courtesy become." the compliment of attention. _"were we as eloquent as angels we should please some people more by listening than by talking."_ _"a good listener is as needful to a witty talker as steel to flint. it is the sharp contact of the two which makes the sparks fly."_ there are certain amenities attending social intercourse with which we are all familiar, yet we are constantly forgetting to put them into practice. in no respect is this forgetfulness more noticeable than in conversation, and especially in connection with what may be called "the compliment of attention." if you despair of becoming a good talker you can, at least, make yourself a good listener, and that is something not to be despised. there are apt to be more good talkers than good listeners, and, although to say so may sound paradoxical, the better you listen, the greater will be your reputation as a conversationalist. in the opinion of the cynical rochefoucauld, the reason why so few persons make themselves agreeable in conversation, is because they are more concerned about what they are themselves going to say, than what others are saying to them. if you have read "nicholas nickleby," you remember mrs. nickleby tells how remarkable smike was as a converser. she entertained poor smike for several hours with a genealogical account of her family, including biographical sketches, while he sat looking at her and wondering what it was all about, and whether she learned it from a book or said it from her own head. said a writer in the _chicago herald_: "what is there, indeed, more colloquial than an intelligent countenance, eagerly intent upon one while telling a story? what language can be compared to the speaking blush or flashing eye of an earnest listener? it was desdemona, with greedy ear devouring his discourse, who won othello's heart. he told his wondrous story, and she listened--that only was the witchcraft he had used." it is said of sir walter scott that, although one of the best talkers in the world, he was also the best listener. with the same bland look he would watch, throughout an entire evening, the lips of his garrulous tormentor ignorantly discoursing on greek epigrams, or crassly dilating on the intricacies of a parliamentary debate. it was said of madame récamier that she listened most winningly, and this was one secret of her wonderful power to charm. we have all heard the story of madame de staël, who, by a clever stratagem, was introduced to a deaf mute at a party. she talked to him the whole evening, and afterward declared that never before had she met so intelligent a listener and so fine a conversationalist. do you remember the story told by sterne in "the sentimental journey"? he had been represented to a french lady as a great wit and an engaging converser, and the lady was impatient for an introduction that she might hear him talk. they met, and, writes sterne: "i had not taken my seat before i saw she did not care a sou whether i had any wit or no. i was to be convinced that she had. i call heaven to witness i never once opened the door of my lips." the lady afterward said she never in her life had a more improving conversation with a man. many other instances might be mentioned derived from both fact and fiction, to show how attentive listening may enhance the delights of conversation, and that one may sometimes gain a reputation for conversational powers by exercising one's ear instead of one's tongue. "a frequent caller at my home," said a lady, "is a capital story-teller, always instructive and pleasing; but she is a poor listener. when my part of the conversation comes in, her manner is depressing. i feel embarrassed, my words become tangled, my memory leaves me, and i hurry to close my remarks, conscious of having made a weak argument, although i had a point when i began. my friend loses her easy manner when i speak, becomes restless, and breaks in upon me before i have fairly begun. her unresponsive eyes tell me as plainly of her superiority as though she had written it in black and white." clergymen, teachers, and public speakers understand and appreciate better than others "the compliment of attention." embarrassing, indeed, is it to anyone who is talking to observe signs of weariness and inattention on the part of one's hearers. those not accustomed to stand before an audience seldom realize that a speaker feels and understands, without conscious endeavor, the attitude toward him of every member of his audience. the good listener inspires and encourages him, while the restless, inattentive auditor is a thorn in the flesh, irritating and distracting. at the close of a lecture given a few years ago in a town in maine, the lecturer--who was a state superintendent of schools--turned to the writer and asked: "who are those two ladies dressed in black, standing there by the window?" after telling him their names the writer said, "why do you ask?" the lecturer replied: "they have been of great help to me all the evening. they are delightful listeners. they appeared to appreciate so thoroughly everything i said that i seemed to be talking especially for their benefit." "that girl," said a teacher, pointing to an attractive young lady just leaving the school-room, "is the most restful pupil i ever had in my school. she is so gentle in her demeanor, so thoughtful and so attentive during recitations, that one cannot help loving her. no matter how restless the other members of the school become, she is always giving the closest attention. if one could have an entire school like her, teaching would be a delight; but she is one among fifty." we gain many things besides the good will of others, by being good listeners, even though we must sometimes submit to be bored to an unlimited degree without interrupting the speaker, or responding in any other way than by "nods and becks and wreathéd smiles." "open your mouth and shut your eyes and see what heaven will send you," says the old maxim; but, "shut your mouth and open your eyes," has been suggested as much more sensible advice under some circumstances. "but," you say, "we are told that samuel johnson, tennyson and macaulay, and many other great thinkers, usually monopolized the conversation when they were in company, and their friends delighted to listen to them. surely they gave but little heed to 'the compliment of attention.'" very true, but no doubt they would have been sometimes more agreeable to the company if they had been more considerate of the wishes of other people. great men are great in spite of their weaknesses, not because of them. we can forgive unpleasant propensities in a genius more easily than in the average mortal, and as almost all of us are average mortals, without a trace of anything akin to genius, we cannot afford to dispense with any of those qualities which help to make us pleasing to others. we should remember that there was but one macaulay--a man who could talk brilliantly on almost all subjects--and notwithstanding his brilliancy, his friends admitted that he was often something of a bore. a very useful lesson may be learned from a little story which appeared some years ago in _the youth's companion_: george paul, a young civil engineer, while surveying a railway in the pennsylvania hills, met a plain, lovable little country girl, and married her. after a few weeks he brought her home to his family in new york, and left her there while he returned to camp. marian had laid many plans to win the affections of her new kinsfolk. she had practiced diligently at her music; she was sure they would be pleased to hear her stories of her beautiful sister and her brother; she imagined their admiration of her new blue silk gown and winter bonnet. but the pauls, one and all, were indifferent to her music, her family and her gowns. they gave "george's wife" a friendly welcome, and then each went on his or her way, and paid no more attention to her. after the first shock of disappointment marian summoned her courage. "if i have nothing to give them, they have much to give me," she thought, cheerfully. she listened eagerly when isabel sung, and her smiles and tears showed how keenly she appreciated the music. she examined louisa's paintings every day with unflagging interest, discussed every effect, and was happy if she could help mix the colors or prepare the canvas. she questioned grandma about her neuralgia, advised new remedies, or listened unwearied to the account of old ones day after day. when uncle john, just returned from japan, began to describe his adventures, marian was the only auditor who never grew tired nor interrupted him. after a two hours' lecture, in which her part had been that of a dumb, bright-faced listener, uncle john declared that george's wife was the most intelligent woman he had ever met. when george came home the whole family was loud in her praises. she was a fine musician; she had unerring taste in art; she was charming, witty and lovable. but george soon saw that she had won them unconsciously--not by displaying her own merits, but by appreciating theirs. this is a true story in fact, but the truth of its meaning is repeated wherever a woman is found who has that quality called charm. she may be plain or even deformed, but she will win friendship and love. many an attractive girl would save herself much anxiety and vain effort on her entrance into the world of society, if she understood that society, so called, is composed of individuals, the most of whom desire not to find the beauty, the wit, the talent of others, but to elicit the cordial recognition by others, of their own. the voice. _"tender tones prevent severe truths from offending."_ _"there are tones which set commonplace words apart, and give them lights and deeps of meaning, just as one fine emotion idealizes and exalts a homely face."_ _"there is no power of love so effective as a kind voice. a kind hand is deaf and dumb. it may be rough in flesh and blood, yet do the work of a soft heart, and do it with a soft touch. but there is no one thing that love so much needs as a sweet voice to tell what it means and feels."_ in our efforts to please, while much depends upon what we say, quite as much depends upon how we say it. the influence of a pleasing voice is wonderful; who has not felt its charm? it has been said that the greatest defect in the american woman is her voice, and while this may not be strictly true, there are heard in conversation at home and abroad many voices more unpleasant than necessary--more harsh, more rasping. a woman's voice may imply good breeding, or the reverse, and in estimating the power of feminine charms, a pleasing voice should be placed very near the head of the list. is it not strange, then, that so little effort is made to remedy defects in vocal expression? we cultivate the voice for singing and for elocutionary effects, but little is done for the average boy or girl by way of training the voice for the everyday effect. only a few can sing well enough to give pleasure to others, but we all talk every day of our lives, and often the quality of our voice speaks more significantly than the words we utter. a sympathetic tone will often win us a friend, though what we say may be of little importance. purity of accent plays a great part in the art of charming, and it has been truly said that "a woman may be ugly, old, without distinction or instruction, but if she have a soft, insinuating, mellow-toned voice, she will charm as much as her more beautiful sister." a telephone operator in a place near new york was on a certain christmas the recipient of checks for five, ten and a hundred dollars, a diamond pin, a dress pattern, and eight boxes of confectionery; although she was known to the donors only by her gentle voice, by the deference of its tone, by her readiness to accommodate, and by her office number as one of the operators. why is it that we regard vocal training and oral expression as something to be confined wholly to the specialists? we think such training is needed by public speakers and readers, and by all who intend to make a professional use of the voice, but we do not appreciate its value for the average man or woman. "what should we think," says _expression_, "of a woman who dresses in the richest of apparel, who is extremely careful of every point of dress, but who speaks with a nasal twang and throaty tone, and makes no effort to correct the fault? we know that this is often the case. why is not the inconsistency corrected? why is there no endeavor to improve the voice and make it beautiful and winning? what a sensitiveness people exhibit about going abroad with a smudge on the face; but, alas! there is little sensitiveness regarding a smudge on one's voice. the truth is that voice culture should not be confined to the few, but should become a prescribed branch of the education of boys and girls generally. not alone are the voices of the women too often unmelodious, but those of the men also need attention. a fine voice may be of inestimable value to a man. the majority of the celebrated orators have been aided by the possession of a good voice, along with the knowledge requisite to enable them to employ it effectively. mr. lecky says that o'connell's voice, rising with a melodiously modulated swell, filled the largest auditoriums and triumphed over the wildest tumult, while at the same time it conveyed every shade of feeling with the most delicate flexibility. mr. gladstone's voice is said to have had the musical quality and the resonance of a silver trumpet; while william pitt, who was a ruler in parliament at the age of twenty-one, possessed a voice of masterful power yet of a wonderful sweetness. webster's voice, on the occasion of his reply to senator dickinson, was so commanding, so forceful, that one of his listeners said he felt all the night as if a heavy cannonade had been resounding in his ears. garrick used to say that he would give one hundred guineas if he could say "oh" as whitefield would say it. "but," you declare, "nature has not given us voices like the voices of those celebrated men, and we must be content with what we have." while nature may not have bestowed upon us their melodious voices, we can do much to improve our own. a study of biography will inform us that many of the most successful speakers, whether actors or orators, have been men and women possessing some native defect of speech or figure which they resolutely mastered by patient, persevering application. we all know of demosthenes' impediment of speech, and are familiar with the story of his months of struggle and his final success. savonarola, when he first spoke in the cathedral at florence, was considered a failure, on account of his wretched voice and awkward manner. phillips brooks, one of the greatest preachers america has produced, was told by his college president that the ministry was out of the question for him because of his nervousness and the defects of his speech. it would be easy to multiply instances to show that the most awkward body and the roughest voice may be brought under control. in fact, where the voice is imperfect and the man is obliged to make a determined effort to master it, he attains by this means, a mental vigor and an emotional strength and a flexibility of voice and mind, as well as a command over the body, which render his delivery in the highest degree effective. again, it is not sufficient that we have naturally a melodious voice; we must know how, or else learn how, to use it. there must be feeling and expression in one's tones. if we wish to express cordiality, words are futile unless the voice sounds the feeling we wish to express. we need to learn how to modulate the voice so as to make it a true reflex of the mind and mood. unless it tells of sincerity, apologies fail to convince of a contrite spirit. unless it conveys confidence, protestations are in vain; yet the very tone of one's voice may allay bitterness, though one may stumble over the words of an apology. if, then, one recognizes the fact that his voice is colorless and devoid of feeling, though his heart be warm, let him at once apply himself to remedying the defect. listen to your own voice when speaking, and note the harsh, strident tones, and the imperfect inflection, and correct them. many girls speak in a nervous, jerky, rapid way, beginning a sentence and repeating a portion of it two or three times before completing it. some speak in high, shrill tones which are not only displeasing but positively irritating because discordant. some speak too fast, while others, going to the opposite extreme, simply drawl. these are defects which can be corrected, and, by correcting them we add measurably to our power to charm. if you do not understand the imperfections of your tone productions, or the faults in your manner of speaking, or if you have trouble in correcting them, go to one who does know, and who is as sensitive to the speaking voice as he is to the singing voice. it may cost you something to do this, but it will be money judiciously expended. you take music lessons, both vocal and instrumental, and you do not consider the money expended for such lessons as wasted even though you have no intention of going upon the stage in opera or of becoming a professional pianist. you study music as an accomplishment. why then should you not give some time, and if need be, a little money for the purpose of perfecting your speaking voice, if by so doing you can make yourself more agreeable to others. you may not be called upon very often to sing or play for other people, but you will talk every day and many times each day, and the voice is "the agent of the soul's expression." "the art of singing," says _the boston herald_, "strange to say, does not include the art of speaking, for some very fine singers have harsh and unmusical voices in conversation. but with all the training now given to the rising generation, voice education should be considered. take the rasp and the hardness out of your sons' and daughters' speech, and give them another grace with which to conquer society." the importance of what we say and how we say it, has never been more clearly or pointedly expressed than in this quotation from an american writer: "a man may look like a monkey and yet turn out to be a philosopher; a man may dress like a vagabond, and yet have the intuitions of a scholar and a gentleman. the face, the expression of the eye, the dress, the manner even, may all be deceptive, but the voice and speech of men and women classify them infallibly." good manners. _life is not so short but that there is always time for courtesy._ emerson. _"politeness is real kindness kindly expressed. this is the sum and substance of all true politeness. put it in practice and all will be charmed with your manner."_ _young men generally would doubtless be thoroughly astonished if they could comprehend at a single glance how greatly their personal happiness, popularity, prosperity, and usefulness depend on their manners._ j. g. holland. in attracting others to us the value of a pleasing manner cannot be estimated. it is like sunshine. we feel it at once, and we are attracted to the person who possesses it. "give a boy address and accomplishments," said emerson, "and you give him the mastery of palaces and fortunes wherever he goes; he has not the trouble of earning or owning them: they solicit him to enter and possess." much has been written upon this subject. indeed, so much has been said, and said so well, that there will be little attempt to do anything else in this chapter than to bring together some of the best thoughts of the best authors. the men and women who have accomplished great things in the world have, as a rule, understood the value of politeness, and have acted in accordance with that knowledge. you can, possibly, recall a very few exceptions, but these were persons great in spite of their lack of courtesy, and they would have been even greater had they practiced the art of gentle manners. the duke of marlborough, whose general education was in some respects sadly neglected, had so irresistible a charm of manner that he swayed the destinies of nations. mirabeau, who was unattractive in person, won by his politeness the good will of all with whom he came in contact. there has been no time in the history of the world when good manners counted for more than they do at the present time. in fact, to-day more than ever before a man is dependent for success upon his personality. good manners often bring to one many things that wealth cannot procure, and "politeness has won more victories than powder." "no one," says an american writer, "who has any appreciation of grace and beauty in nature or in art can fail to recognize the charm of fine manners in an individual. we rejoice in them as we do in a lovely sunset view, or a beautiful piece of architecture, or a fascinating poem, for their own sake and for what they express; but even beyond this they have another attraction in the magnetic power they exert upon all beholders in setting them at ease, in sweeping away shyness, awkwardness and restraint, and in stimulating them to the expression of whatever is best worth cherishing within them." it is undoubtedly true that the presence of fine manners, whether it be in the home or the social circle, in the workshop or the counting-room, in the visit of charity or the halls of legislation, has an immediate effect in reproducing itself, in diffusing happiness, in developing the faculties, and in eliciting the best that is in everybody. surely there is no quality that a girl or a woman can possess which recommends her more favorably to the good opinion of others than that of uniform courtesy and good manners. william wirt's letter to his daughter on the "small, sweet courtesies of life," contains a passage from which a deal of happiness may be learned. "i want to tell you a secret. the way to make yourself pleasant to others is to show them attention. the whole world is like the miller at mansfield, who cared for nobody--no not he, because nobody cared for him. and the whole world would serve you so, if you gave them the same cause. let everyone, therefore, see that you do care for them by showing them the small courtesies in which there is no parade, whose voice is still to please; and which manifest themselves by tender and affectionate looks, and little acts of attention, giving others the preference in every little enjoyment at the table, walking, sitting, or standing." young men who wish to make their way in the world cannot afford to forget that there is not in all the world a talisman of such potent magic as the irresistible spell of a charming manner. while in some cases it seems innate, it can, in a great measure, be acquired. yet a careful observer of the young men of the present generation cannot fail to notice a tendency, on the part of some at least, to disregard the small courtesies of life--the intangible, yet very perceptible little things which make the man a gentleman. some people even contend that outward manner is a secondary consideration if the head is well stored with knowledge, and that if a young man has the faculty to get on in the world, it is a matter of very little importance if he have not the manners of a chesterfield. that this idea is prevalent is accounted for by the great number of well-educated men--men of ability and power--who, clever and with no lack of brains, are painfully deficient in good breeding. with no intentional lapses they are awkward, presuming, and even vulgar. "in most countries," says the _toronto week_, "an educated man and a gentleman are almost synonymous terms. on this side of the atlantic they by no means always apply to the same man. educational advantages are within the reach of all classes of people--even persons who have missed the benefit of home training for their manners, or who have not numbered cultured persons among their acquaintances. such persons by native ability and hard work often attain to high positions of honor and trust in the various professions, and win for themselves the title of 'self-made.' "yet because a man by his brains, energy, and pluck carves out his own fortune, putting himself in a prominent position, is it not very desirable that he should also cultivate the courtesies of life so that the talent be not hidden by roughness and uncultivated bearing." we frequently meet college students--especially from the smaller colleges--good, honest, earnest, ambitious fellows, who are working hard to make their way in the world. they are poor, and have come from homes where the stern realities of gaining a livelihood have left, apparently, no time for culture; where the table manners are but little better than those of the logging camp, and where the graces of refined speech and manners have never even taken root. they may take never so high a rank in their college studies, may pursue the work preparatory to a profession with never so much diligence, yet they will always be handicapped by their ignorance of those embellishments so necessary to social, and even business, success. they find themselves continually placed at a disadvantage, and their lack of social training is responsible for failures which might have been avoided. because a man is a successful lawyer he is not justified in saying that he can be his own tailor, or that ill-fitting clothes, if belonging to him and of his own make, are as suitable as those of a good cut. so it is with the intellectual giant who takes no heed of his manners. he may learn much from less talented persons, who are, nevertheless, his superiors in many respects. desirable as it may be for a young man to shun the extravagance of the æsthete, and to despise the shams of society, he cannot afford to neglect the courtesies of life; and he does well who, while devoting his energies to mathematics and the classics, pays attention to the improvement of his manners. it is while young that manners are formed; the most strenuous efforts will not wholly eradicate in after life the awkward habits formed in youth. the young man who is ambitious, upon whom dame fortune is already turning a dawning smile, should pause and think about this matter. some time he may be rich; some time he may aspire to a high position in society or in public life, and he should begin early to fit himself for the proud position he means to occupy. the outward address of a man has no little influence upon his success in business. the polite attention and readiness to meet every reasonable, and often unreasonable, demand of his customers, on the part of a. t. stewart, when he opened his narrow linen store on broadway, was almost as important a factor in his rapid success in securing business as his remarkable quickness in discovering changes in the market, and in adapting his goods to the taste and necessities of his patrons. this marked self-restraint and politeness of manner he retained to the last. it is strange that every business man does not appreciate the commercial value of politeness. the writer knows a clerk who is employed in a drug store in one of the largest towns of maine. so polite is he in his attentions to customers, so willing to be helpful, so pleasing in his manner, with that restraint and quietness which mark the gentleman and destroy every trace of effusion, that he has made himself invaluable to his employer. it is reported that, more than once, his friends have urged him to establish a business of his own, but his employer, realizing his value in attracting and holding customers, has turned him from the idea by a generous increase of salary. thousands of clerks and thousands of professional and business men could greatly increase their earning power by closer attention to the accepted rules of courtesy. some people excuse a roughness of manner by saying that they detest affectations of all kinds, that they love the truth, that they are perfectly frank and outspoken. such people pride themselves upon their naturalness, and on the ground of frankness they will wound by rude language, will insult you, and defend their awkwardness and ill-breeding by the plea of "natural manners." naturalness is not always commendable. if nature has not invested us with those qualities which are pleasing to others, we should try to improve upon nature. the plainest truths may be conveyed in civil speech, and it is better to "assume a virtue if you have it not." to object to politeness on the ground that its language is sometimes unmeaning and expressed for effect, is as foolish as it would be to object to the decoration of our parlors or the wearing of good clothes. in the ordinary compliments of good society there is no intention to deceive. polite language is pleasant to the ear, and soothing to the heart, while rough words are the reverse, and while they may not always be the result of bad temper, they are quite likely to cause it. the motive for politeness should not be the desire to shine, or to raise one's self into society supposed to be better than one's own. the cultivation of good manners is not merely a means to the gratification of personal vanity, but it is a duty we owe not only to other people but to ourselves; a duty to make ourselves better in every respect than we are. indeed, the true spirit of good manners is so nearly allied to that of good morals that they seem almost inseparable. "did you ever think how invisible is the armor of defence afforded by perfect politeness?" asks _harper's bazar_. "neither man, woman nor child can resist it. the quick tempered irish maid who loses her hold on her tongue so easily and 'answers back' with a hot retort is abashed when her mistress meets her with quiet courtesy. the angry person, off guard and saying what he really does not mean, is foiled by the self-control of his interlocutor, who has not, for an instant, forgotten the gracious manner of good breeding." politeness is, perhaps, instinctive with some, but with the majority it is a matter of training, of the slow and careful discipline of voice and eye and carriage. under this training all the angles of personal vanity and self-consciousness are rubbed off, the person becomes adorned with grace, ease, simplicity and gentleness, and what may seem to the untrained observer as the perfection of naturalness may be simply the perfection of culture. very sensitive persons who suffer acutely from fancied slights can save themselves many wounds by always being as scrupulous in giving as they are in exacting courtesy. to suffer one's self to perpetrate a rudeness is to lay one's self open to the same. in nothing should we be less economical than in politeness. it should lead us to prompt and generous acknowledgment of every kindness, to responsive thanks when a gift, however small, is brought to our door. it should oblige us to listen with patient attention even to the person whose conversation is not entertaining, to sit apparently absorbed when in public we are present at concert or lecture. this defensive armor, so smooth, so polished, so easily worn, will make our intercourse with society agreeable. the fact is, that when we come in contact with human beings anywhere and in any occupation, we are quite likely to get in return just what we give. a man who is always the gentleman seldom meets with rebuffs from even the most unpolished and crude. the employer who uses kind words with his workmen, usually gets kind words in return. dress. _"no woman is ugly who is well dressed."_ spanish proverb. _for the apparel oft proclaims the man._ hamlet. _i believe in dress. i believe that god delights in beautiful things, and as he has never made anything more beautiful than woman, i believe that that mode of dressing the form and face which best harmonizes with her beauty is that which pleases him best._ j. g. holland. as the author of this volume is a man, this chapter on dress is, of course, written from a man's point of view. he knows very well that, were he to attempt to write scientifically of woman's clothes he would be lost. no one but a woman can do that. the man who tried it would soon find himself bewildered by a maze of technical terms and expressions which seem absolutely necessary to describe exactly what is meant. possibly, however, the author can take a broad, mental grasp of the subject apart from and above the pretty finesse with which feminine writers would treat the subject. clothes are the woman's weapons, one of the resources of civilization, with which woman marches forth to the conquest of the masculine world, and the writer wishes to estimate from the man's standpoint just how much the silks, the laces, the ribbons and the velvets have to do in influencing the masculine heart. what one wears is accepted as an index of one's character. whether this is as it should be or not, yet it is true; and we all feel, more or less, that coarseness or refinement finds visible expression in apparel as in no other way. "surely," says _the boston journal_, "nothing so intensifies the personality as the clothes one wears; through association they become a part of us, help to identify us, even in some peculiar, reactionary way, serve to control our mental states." many women will tell you that their most infallible cure for weariness and the blues is to go and dress up in one of their prettiest gowns. many men will tell you that a clean shave, clean linen, and a fresh suit of clothes are most reviving and soothing in their effect upon the psychical as well as the physical man. the statement, often made, that women dress well only to please the men, is only a fraction of the truth. they dress to please the men; to please one another, and to please themselves. which of these three motives is the strongest depends upon the individual, for,--"while there are men and men, there are women and women and women," and it is absurd to make any attempt to analyze motives or to formulate principles which will apply to all women. the men who dress well do it for the women and for themselves. the effect that their apparel has upon others of their own sex, gives men but little concern. if all the women should be taken from the world tailors would at once lose half their business, for the men would immediately begin to wear out their old clothes. as a rule, few men care very much for fine clothes for their own sake, but a love of dress is natural in woman, and one who exhibits indifference in regard to her personal appearance convicts herself of either indolence, self-righteousness or pedantry. a woman who has not some natural taste in dress, who does not take a positive delight in combinations of colors, who is not fond of fine apparel for its own sake, is an anomaly. men do not notice details of a woman's dress. few know enough about the subject to distinguish cheese-cloth from _point d'esprit_. the description in detail of a new gown as given in a fashion journal is about as intelligible to the average man as the inscriptions on an assyrian tablet. they accept the woman as a whole, and consider her, and what she has on, as one harmonious, homogeneous, unanalyzable completeness. if you doubt this ask a man to tell you how a certain lady was dressed at a reception he attended the evening before. perhaps he noticed her particularly while there, and told you at the time that she was becomingly attired. he may be able to tell you that she wore a pink waist, or that the prevailing color of her costume was blue, but there his knowledge of the subject ends. while it is true that men give but little thought to the details of a woman's dress, unless it is conspicuously bad, very many of them know whether she is becomingly attired or not. while they may have no clear idea as to whether the material of a gown cost five cents or five dollars a yard, or whether the gown itself is quite in fashion, they know whether the owner carries it well, and whether the material, style and color are becoming to her. perhaps, on the whole, a man of good taste is a better judge than a woman as to whether she is becomingly dressed. this is because they regard the subject from entirely different standpoints. the stylishly gowned woman is, to the average woman, well dressed, but not necessarily so to the man. it is a perpetual wonder to some men why women have not the courage to reject certain combinations and certain styles of dress that are inharmonious and ugly in themselves, and, consequently, unbecoming to the one who wears them. years ago certain colors were thought to be becoming to certain types of women. there was an undisputed tradition in regard to the colors which the blonde should wear, and also what ones were becoming to the brunette. this was not a dictate of fashion; it was a fact ascertained by experience. of late these traditions have been disregarded by fashion, and the stylish woman wears any color or combination she pleases, but often at the sacrifice of her good looks. fashion cannot change the laws of cause and effect--the laws of harmony--and if the decided brunette chooses to wear colors which are becoming only to blondes she does it at the expense of half her natural beauty. men feel this and wonder what is amiss. a few years ago fashion made quite common a style of sailor hat with diminutive crown made in the shape of an hour-glass. they were ugly in themselves, and when perched upon the head detracted from the beauty of any face. nothing could be more ridiculous than the sight of a stout, tall girl, with broad hips and prominent features, marching along the street with her head surmounted by that parody on the most becoming of all hats for a young woman--the sailor. one at once called to mind the dice-box which the negro minstrel wears to make himself appear as funny as possible. one man wittily characterized them as "the hats that wore corsets." men never liked them, but thousands of them were worn. from a man's point of view it would be far better if women made a more comprehensive and sensible study of their individual needs in dress and did not blindly follow the decrees of fashion; if more women would realize that the garment suitable to a tall, slim figure, is utterly inappropriate to a stout, short one. when sara bernhardt invented the glove which was to give size and form to her thin and poorly shaped arm, she recognized the highest aim of fashion. when a woman is in need of a new hat or bonnet, a man's advice would be: "hunt the tables until you find one which, in shape and trimming, is suitable and becoming to you. never mind if it is not the very latest style; if it suits your face and figure, take it, and you will not be sorry." in furnishing a room we understand that we should put in it only what makes the room look better--not what is simply pretty in itself; and if women would follow a similar plan in dress,--wear only what is becoming to them, and not wear things, simply because they think them pretty and fashionable, men would be better pleased. man is attracted by a woman's beauty itself, and whether she has just the latest modes or not seldom interests him in the least. so the girl who would dress to please men, should, first of all, wear what will show off her natural attractiveness of face and figure to the best advantage; after that she may be as fashionable as possible. without doubt many girls attach too much importance to dress as a means of attracting the other sex. it is frequently the case that, when a young lady is invited to a social function, her first thought is, "what shall i wear?" her second thought is, "what shall i wear?" this question is with her much of the time until she goes to the place where she is to be entertained; and as she enters the room her first thought is, "i wonder how i look." if, upon an examination of the other young ladies present, she concludes that she is as well dressed as anyone there, she experiences a feeling of restfulness and of satisfaction, and enjoys the evening. she imagines she must be an object of interest to the men, and to an extent she is. men like women to be "well groomed." they take in her whole appearance at a glance, and then pay but little further attention to the question of gowns, ribbons, slippers or sashes. they want to be entertained and amused. if the only preparation a young lady has made to render herself attractive and interesting is the care bestowed upon her personal appearance; if her resources for attracting consist only of a pretty face and a graceful figure in a pretty gown, she will never become famous for her conquests. simplicity and exquisitely fresh neatness and daintiness are to a man more attractive than any extravagance of fashion or costliness of material. no man was ever induced to propose to a girl by the splendor of her costume. of course it would be absurd to assert that physical beauty is of no value, or that dress is of little importance. that girl who is born physically beautiful, is fortunate indeed, and any girl of common sense knows that an attractive gown or a becoming hat is of importance. the great thing for her to understand is that there must be something better under the becoming hat than a pretty face, for her own happiness, and if she would be very attractive to others. just as there are some persons who are said to be born magnetic, so some women are supposed to have a peculiarly attractive way of wearing clothes which defies imitation. said a writer in the _springfield republican_: "there is a subtle something which one cannot get on the microscopic slide, which refuses to be reduced to percentages, which baffles description, and that is the manner in which some women wear their clothes. two girls with faces of equal value and garments of identical texture will fail to produce equivalent effects, because one has this indefinable quality, and the other has not. consequently we often hear it said that some girls are more attractive in calico than others in richer material." that there is a marked difference in the way different women wear their clothes, no one will deny, but because some girls look and appear to better advantage than others in the same material, is it necessary to regard it as beyond comprehension, or to declare that it "baffles description"? the writer did not go far enough in his description of the two girls. while their faces were of equal value, and their clothing was of the same material, there might be other differences which would account for the "indefinable quality." possibly one was pleasing in manner and the other not. one was awkward in person and in speech, while the other was tactful and graceful. one was dull; the other interesting. the difference was one of physical and mental characteristics, and not a quality that "baffles description." indeed it is a difference easily understood and analyzed. if two girls have faces and forms of equal value, and are equally graceful, tactful and well mannered, their clothes, if of the same form and material, will be worn in much the same way, and will produce much the same effect. * * * * * no man, whatever his position in the world may be, can afford to be careless about his personal appearance. dress may not make the man, but we all form in our minds a very clear idea of what a man is by his dress. we gain our first impression of persons by what they have on; our second judgment is formed from their conversation and manner. the well dressed man is more attractive to others, and he feels much better himself than he would if carelessly attired. have you noticed the wonderful transformation which takes place in a man when he doffs his everyday clothes and dons a dress suit? during the day he may have an untidy and even a slovenly appearance, but as soon as he puts on a well laundered shirt, a high standing collar, a fresh lawn tie, and a dress suit, he seems completely changed. he looks from five to ten years younger, and from his manner you know that he feels younger. he is on better terms with himself and with the world. every woman likes a man better for being well dressed. she may excuse, or overlook, carelessness or even slovenliness in his personal appearance, if she is very fond of him, but she would like him much more if he were neat and tidy and tasteful. she may forgive his green and yellow necktie, she may overlook his soiled linen, she may make no reference to his coat with its collar covered with dust and dandruff; she may not let him know that she has even noticed any of these things, but she has. she thinks of them whenever he is with her, and sometimes when she is away from him, and she wishes he were different. she may like him in spite of these defects. women usually like a man in spite of things. if a man noticed half as many things about a woman that did not please him, he would never love her at all. leaving out of the question the fact that women like to have men neat and even elegant in their raiment, no man who is seeking to make his way in business or in a profession, can afford to be careless about his clothes. "a few men," says _the lewiston journal_, "clothed in the serenity of soul that approaches the insanity of genius can afford to go illy-clothed. president lincoln was given free license to wear frock coats unbecomingly. horace greeley could wear a linen duster with grace and equanimity. but they were unique. they could make fashion look insignificant, but you and i cannot, if we care to move amid the throng of busy people seeking passage on the car of progress." no better advice has been given to men on the subject of dress than in an article which appeared in _success_. a short extract from the article will close this chapter. "clothes are one of the accepted standards by which men are judged the world over. they form the chief standard of first impression; so, for that reason alone, it would be difficult to overestimate their importance. they show at a glance whether a man is neat or untidy; careful or careless; methodical or shiftless, and what sort of taste he has. nothing else about him reflects so much of his personal characteristics. so it is not surprising to be told by those who yearly give employment to thousands of men and boys, that more applicants are turned away on account of their personal appearance than for all other reasons put together. but it would surprise some people very much if they knew how widely this rule is applied. the well dressed man is one whose clothes do not make him the object of comment, either because they are showy or shabby. he never goes to the extremes of fashion, thereby courting notoriety; he never goes to the other extreme by paying no attention at all to what he wears or how he wears it. he is always modest in his attire. he conforms to the established customs of changing his attire as the occasion demands, without making himself a slave to reform. he does not always wear expensive clothes, nor is it at all necessary that he should. but he is always clean and neat, or, as the present day has it, he is "well groomed." the optimist. _the habit of looking on the bright side of things is worth far more than a thousand pounds a year._ --samuel johnson. _"more than half the unhappiness in the world comes from a person's unwillingness to look on the bright side so long as a dark side can be discovered."_ we all like the optimist. the bright, cheerful, good-natured fellow, who always looks through the cloud and sees its silver lining, is as good as a tonic to our most pessimistic dispositions. if, then, you wish to make yourself agreeable to others and to yourself, cultivate the habit of cheerfulness--of always looking on the bright side. wear a pleasant countenance; let cheerfulness beam in your eye; let love write its mark on your forehead, and have kind words and a pleasant greeting for those whom you meet. don't forget to say "good morning!" and say it heartily. say it to your brothers and sisters, your school-mates, your parents, your teachers and your friends. pleasant, hearty greetings cheer the discouraged, rest the tired, and make the wheels of life run more smoothly. they clear up the thorny pathways, win friends, and confound enemies. in fact, it is impossible to resist the influence of cheerfulness. let a bright face beam on the darkness of defeat, shine on the abode of poverty; illumine the chamber of sickness, and how everything changes under its benign influence. victory becomes possible, competence promises a golden future, and health is wooed back again. on the other hand, you cannot estimate the amount of unhappiness you may cause by wearing a clouded face and by speaking harsh, unkind words. many persons fret and whine all through life. they never appear to have a generous impulse. "they seem to have come into the world during one of those cold, bleak, gloomy days, when there was nothing with which to build a fire. they, apparently, grew up in the same bleak atmosphere, and they live in it all their lives. you see their smallness in everything they do and say. you see it in their buying and in their selling, in their talk and in their actions. they have been well called 'the frogs that constitute one of the plagues of society.' they have never made one heart glad, nor shed one ray of sunshine upon man, woman, or child." it is just as easy to be kind as to be cross, and as easy to give pleasure as pain. it costs nothing; it is a smile, an appreciative word, a mention of what one likes to hear spoken of rather than an irritating reference. if your minister has preached a sermon that interested and helped you, tell him so. it will encourage and cheer him, and he will try to give you still better sermons in the future. remember that the preacher is much more human than most people think, and that no man more highly prizes the genuine, manly word of good cheer, sympathy and affection. if your grocer has sold you something that was particularly good, tell him so. no doubt you have often found fault with the tea and the flour and the meat; then why not surprise him by letting him know that you appreciate a good thing when you get it. perhaps you have children who are attending the public schools. perhaps their teacher by patience, tact, and the expenditure of much nerve force, has succeeded in interesting them in their studies as they have never been before. don't you think it would stimulate her to still greater effort if you should say to her when you meet: "my children are doing well at school this term. they like you and are interested in their work." no doubt you have often severely criticised teachers, methods, and school management, and you have been very free with your words of condemnation. why not help a little by some expression of approval if you can honestly do so. give pleasure to your wife, if you have one. notice her painstaking efforts to make home comfortable; compliment her dinner and show that you appreciate the thousand things she does for your comfort. there is no greater exhibition of heroic fortitude than is seen in one who dwells in a cheerless home she does her best to brighten, and who wears away the years in an unsatisfied desire for words and tokens of love and sympathy which never come to her. do not be afraid of giving something of yourself, of letting yourself out a little; and do not fear that your heart will run away with your head. do not confound sentiment with sentimentalism, and do not hesitate to praise a thing or an act if it is really worthy of it. you need to do this for your own sake as well as for the sake of making others happy. "for my own sake," you say. "in what way will it help me if i bestow praise upon another?" praise, when it is deserved, is of more importance to the giver than the receiver. "praise does not immediately affect the merit of him to whom it is awarded," said a writer recently, "but it does immediately affect the merit of him to whom its awarding belongs. if a man deserves praise he is quite as much of a man without it as with it; but no man can be so much of a man, nor seem so much of a man, while withholding just praise as while bestowing it." in little matters as well as in large ones, to acknowledge the merit of others is a duty, the performance of which is even more important to the one who owes it, than to the one to whom it is owed. we do not fail to express our appreciation of heroic deeds, but it is in the common, everyday life that the words of appreciation are most sorely needed, and too seldom spoken. many a woman would have been greatly cheered and helped over many hard places, if, while living, she could have heard half as many nice things said to her by those she loved, as were put into her funeral sermon and obituary notice. there is, of course, a great difference between the expression of a due and delicate appreciation of merit, and that false and exaggerated praise which is dictated by the desire to flatter. the former is always received with pleasure, but the latter wounds the susceptibility of those on whom it is lavished. to a mind rightly constituted, there are few things more painful than undeserved, or even excessive commendation. flattery is never excusable; deserved praise should never be withheld. do not be a grumbler. is there any person more unwelcome than the chronic growler? when we meet him he begins by growling about the weather; then you are entertained with a long account of his aches and pains, his trials and his losses. nothing pleases him. his neighbors are dishonest, church members are hypocrites, public officials are, in his estimation, all rascals, law makers are corrupt, and the country is going to the dogs. if you speak in commendation of an individual, he at once attempts to belittle him in your estimation. if you praise a cause or an institution, he is sure to find fault with what you say. he wishes your sympathy for his troubles, but he has none to give. we all crave sympathy, but, if we are not careful, we may exhaust the patience, even of our best friends, with the recital of our troubles. if your aches and pains are ever so bad, the best advice for you is "grin and bear it." it is all very well to be an interesting invalid for a short time. your neighbors will bring you in good things to eat, and your friends will bring you pretty flowers to look at, and books to read, but do not remain too long in bed if you can help it, and do not wear too long and sad a face when you are recovering. it will not relieve your pain at all to tell everyone you meet how much you suffer, and when your friends have sympathized with you a dozen times they become a little tired of it. this advice is worthy of practice, not for the sake of your friends only, but for your own. the burden cheerfully borne becomes light, and any physician knows that the hopeful, cheerful patient has many more chances of recovery than the despondent one. in the lives of us all there are hours of anxiety, disappointment, pain and vexation; seasons of trial that are to be met only with stubborn patience. greatness of soul is tested by the serenity with which these inevitable ills are borne and finally overcome. the little mind will fret and chafe and fume over little things, even as the petty stream over its narrow, pebbly bed, while the deep, strong river moves swiftly and silently over the boulders that lie at its bottom. "but," you say, "while the advice is good it is very hard to follow it." yes, but it is really harder not to heed it. "the bird that beats against the iron bars of its cage suffers more than the patient captive." laugh all you can. it is good for you. physicians tell us that laughing has a direct and positive effect upon one's health. the physical movement caused by a hearty laugh causes the arteries to dilate and the flow of blood to hasten, thus promoting an acceleration of vital processes; and a mental action through stimulating the blood vessels of the brain. he who administers medicine in the shape of wit and humor to the sad heart is most assuredly a "good samaritan." the irresistible, good-humored philosophy of mark twain has relieved the depression and sorrow of multitudes. he has compelled us to laugh, and his mission in the world has been a beneficent one. a cheerful face is as good for an invalid as pleasant weather. cheerfulness is health, melancholy is disease. cheerfulness is just as natural to the heart of a man in sound moral and physical health as color to his cheeks, and wherever we see habitual gloom we may be sure there is something radically wrong in the animal economy or the moral sense. sydney smith once gave a lady two-and-twenty receipts against melancholy. one was a bright fire; another, to remember all the pleasant things said to her; another, to keep a box of sugar plums on the chimney piece and a kettle simmering on the hob. these are trivial things in themselves but life is made up of these little pleasures and none should be neglected because of their seemingly trifling nature. if our temperament does not make us naturally cheerful, we can, at least, cultivate those habits of body and mind which seem most favorable to the growth of this condition. we can keep the mind open to cheerful impressions, and close it to those that are gloomy. it is far better to magnify our blessings than to depreciate them. the spaniard of whom southey tells that he always put on his magnifying glasses when he ate cherries, in order to make them seem larger, had the true philosophy of life. so the ancient pompeiians seem to have well understood the art of making the most of everything. their gardens were very small, but by painting the surrounding walls with plants and landscapes their little area became indefinitely enlarged to the eye of the observer. personal peculiarities. _"eccentricity may be harmless, but it never can be commendable; it is one of the children of that prolific failing--vanity. and whether it shows in feeling, manners, or peculiarities of dress, it is clearly acted upon from the presumptuous supposition that the many are in the wrong, the individual in the right."_ _society will pardon much to genius and special gifts, but, being in its nature a convention, it loves what is conventional or what belongs to coming together. that makes the good and bad of manners, namely, what helps or hinders fellowship._ emerson. we all know that the outward address of a person has great influence upon his success both in the social and the business world. thousands of men and women are, in their efforts to please, hindered by some personal peculiarity which is painfully apparent to other people, but of which they themselves seem wholly ignorant. thousands of professional and business men are prevented from attaining the success they might reach by some infelicity of manner or speech which could be remedied by a little painstaking effort. here is a physician who has prepared himself thoroughly for his profession by years of hard study and by the expenditure of a considerable sum of money, but he knows little of human nature, and but little of the requirements of good society. he has no tact, and has not thought it necessary to cultivate that quality. he is cold and unsympathetic. he has no ability to make friends or to keep them. he is not sociable, and he does not make himself agreeable to his patients by those little kindly acts and sympathetic speeches so comforting to invalids. he feels that he is well prepared to practice his profession, and he regards any personal defects as of little importance. other men of less ability, but with more tact, soon outstrip him in the race for public favor. he never succeeds in acquiring a large practice, and, possibly, never knows the reason why. a young man applies for a position as a teacher. he is well equipped in scholarship for the place he wishes, for he led his class in college, and he comes highly recommended as a young man of integrity and earnestness. after a short interview the superintendent of schools decides that he is not the man for the position and the applicant goes away disappointed. why was he rejected? not by reason of poor scholarship, nor for lack of moral character, but simply on account of his personal appearance. he was untidy in his dress. his linen was soiled, his coat was not brushed, his cuffs were frayed at the edges, while his finger-nails gave evidence that he was habitually careless about personal neatness and cleanliness. the superintendent decided at once that he did not want him, and the young man did not know why. here is a young woman who is fine looking, intelligent and accomplished. apparently she possesses all those qualities which are necessary to make her a favorite in society and she seems to deserve a host of friends. yet she is not greatly sought after by her acquaintances, and she has few firm friends. young men pay her but little attention, and seem afraid of her. other girls, less brilliant intellectually, with fewer accomplishments, and with plainer faces, are far greater favorites in society. her particular weakness is that she has allowed herself to fall into the practice of employing sarcasm to an extent which is offensive to those with whom she talks. she has a habit of saying disagreeable, biting things in a humorous way, and she never suspects that people are hurt by them. she has cultivated the habit to such a degree that she can always raise a laugh at some person's expense, and she is constantly on the watch for opportunities to exercise this accomplishment. finally it dawns upon her that she does not hold her friends; that she is sometimes slighted in the matter of invitations; that she is not a popular girl, and she doesn't know why. a certain clergyman is a fine preacher, capable of attracting, instructing, and inspiring the most cultivated audiences, but he is shut out from his proper sphere of usefulness and influence, and prevented from reaching the position for which his endowments qualify him, by a matter which might seem trifling in itself, but which has become offensive through its persistent hold upon him. he exhibits a lack of proper deference to the feelings of others, an arrogant and unsympathetic tone of voice, and sometimes yields, under opposition, to unrestrained violence of language. he betrays his weakness every time anyone crosses his plans and desires. it seems hard for him to understand that others have an equal right to their preference and opinions. he forgets that while it is easy to be amiable when everyone agrees with him, the test of character is in keeping the temper sweet and reasonable when people differ from him and criticise him. he understands his power to move audiences; he is told by persons competent to judge that his sermons are superior; he knows that in higher intellectual qualities he surpasses many other clergymen who secure and retain prominent positions; yet the painful truth is forced upon him that his services as a pastor are not sought for, while inferior preachers are selected for places of power and influence. a man goes into trade. he is a shrewd buyer, energetic, honest, and keeps a good assortment of goods, but he is not obliging to customers. he is short and crusty in his speech, irritable and sometimes almost rude in his manner; consequently he does not hold his patrons. they leave him, one by one, and do their purchasing at other stores where they receive polite attention. the merchant does not prosper in business, and he never knows why. here is a woman who prides herself upon her plain speaking. she boasts that when she has anything to say she is willing to say it to one's face, and not behind one's back. she thinks it is a mark of sincerity and frankness to say disagreeable things and to bring one's infirmities to the surface. her tendencies finally become fixed habits. she finds herself shunned by her acquaintances, and she does not know why. then there is the loquacious woman, the woman who monopolizes the conversation, the woman who has an apparent contempt for paragraph and punctuation. no matter what the topic of conversation may be, she at once takes the management of it into her own hands, and the other members of the company are made to feel at once that they are expected to be only listeners. the loquacious woman may talk well--she often does--but she fails to understand that there may be such a thing as too much even of good things, and so she talks on and on, with an utter disregard for the rights and the comfort of those around her. a professional man, who possesses much intellectual force and originality, takes pride in his unconventionality in the matter of dress. his garments are so far from the prevailing style that they attract attention and invite comment. he does not realize that the man who rebels against fashion may be open even more to the imputation of vanity than he who obeys it, because he makes himself conspicuous, and practically announces that he is wiser than his associates. an affectation of superior simplicity is vulgarity. stop a moment and recall twenty men and women of your acquaintance. you will probably remember that two-thirds of them have some peculiarity, some defect of speech or manner which detracts from their social and business success, or from their usefulness. one is a gossip; another possesses a hasty temper, while a third is intellectually dishonest, never yielding his position, even under the most absolute proof that he is in the wrong. one of your friends is a pessimist, and is continually attempting to convert you to his point of view, while his wife is so inquisitive that you at once become nervous when you perceive her approach. a young woman of your acquaintance would be a most charming person if she did not laugh too much. a conversation with her is, upon her part, a perpetual giggle. these may generally be good, intelligent, and, in many respects, charming people, but unfortunately they are hampered by these deficiencies. they have become so unconscious of these personal traits that, doubtless, they would be greatly surprised were their attention called to them. the effect of these shortcomings upon others is, however, just as unfortunate as if they were intentionally retained and nourished, for we usually regard the outward manner as a true index of the inward emotion. if so many of our acquaintances display idiosyncrasies that affect us disagreeably, is it not possible that we too may be harboring some remediable evil of temper, some superable infirmity of manner or of speech which is a bar to our own usefulness, because distressing to those with whom we are thrown? let us think about this. suggestions from many sources for the man who would please and the woman who would charm. a gentleman makes no noise; a lady is serene. emerson. * * * * * so i talked a great deal and found myself infinitely pleased with brandon's conversational powers, which were rare; being no less than the capacity for saying nothing, and listening politely to an indefinite deal of the same thing, in another form, from me. charles major. * * * * * talk about those subjects you have had long in your mind, and listen to what others say about subjects you have studied but recently. knowledge and timber should not be much used till they are seasoned. o. w. holmes. * * * * * a beautiful form is better than a beautiful face; a beautiful behavior is better than a beautiful form; it gives a higher pleasure than statues or pictures; it is the finest of the fine arts. emerson. * * * * * believe nothing against another but on good authority, nor report what may hurt another, unless it be a greater hurt to another to conceal it. william penn. * * * * * "life is like a mirror. it reflects the face you bring to it. look out lovingly upon the world, and the world will look lovingly in upon you." * * * * * but it is mostly my own dreams i talk of, and that will somewhat excuse me for talking of dreams at all. everyone knows how delightful the dreams are that one dreams one's self, and how insipid the dreams of others are. i had an illustration of this fact not many evenings ago, when a company of us got telling dreams. i had by far the best dreams of any; to be quite frank, mine were the only dreams worth listening to; they were richly imaginative, delicately fantastic, exquisitely whimsical, and humorous in the last degree; and i wondered that when the rest could have listened to them they were always eager to cut in with some silly, senseless, tasteless thing, that made me sorry and ashamed for them. i shall not be going too far if i say that it was on their part the grossest betrayal of vanity that i ever witnessed. william dean howells. * * * * * "there is a great mistake in supposing that giving is concerned only with material benefits. these form indeed but a small part of its mission. whoever creates happiness, whether by a kindly greeting, or tender sympathy, or inspiring presence, or stimulating thought, is as true a giver as he who empties his purse to feed the hungry." * * * * * politeness and good breeding are absolutely necessary to adorn any or all other good qualities or talents. without them no knowledge, no perfection whatever, is seen in its best light. the scholar, without good breeding, is a pedant; the philosopher, a cynic; the soldier a brute; and every man, disagreeable. lord chesterfield. * * * * * "tact, though partly a natural gift, is a good deal indebted to education and early habits. the superiority of one sex to the other in this respect will often be found to depend on art quite as much as upon nature." * * * * * "never is silence more eloquent than when it is preserved toward persons older than ourselves when they voice opinions long since proven erroneous. age doesn't like to be contradicted, right or wrong." * * * * * in the supremacy of self-control consists one of the perfections of the ideal man: not to be impulsive, not to be spurred hither and thither by each desire that in turn comes uppermost; but to be restrained, self-balanced, governed by the joint decision of the feelings in council assembled, before whom every action shall have been fully debated and calmly determined. herbert spencer. * * * * * in the exhaustless catalogue of heaven's mercies to mankind, the power we have of finding some germs of comfort in the hardest trials must ever occupy the foremost place; not only because it supports and upholds us when we most require to be sustained, but because in this source of consolation there is something, we have every reason to believe, of the divine spirit; something which, even in our fallen nature we possess in common with the angels. dickens. * * * * * "when you bury animosity don't set up a headstone over its grave." * * * * * i don't never hav truble in regulating mi own kondukt, but tew keep other pholks straight iz what bothers me. josh billings. * * * * * "hundreds of the most agreeable persons in fashionable society are those who are content to be taught the things they already know." * * * * * it is better to return a dropped fan genteelly than give a thousand pounds awkwardly; you had better refuse a favor gracefully than grant it clumsily. all your greek can never advance you from secretary to envoy, or from envoy to embassador, but your address, your air, your manner, if good, may. lord chesterfield. * * * * * "the art of not hearing should be learned by all. it is fully as important to domestic happiness as a cultivated ear, for which both money and time are expended. there are so many things which it is painful to hear, so many which we ought not to hear, so very many which if heard will disturb the temper, corrupt simplicity and modesty, detract from contentment and happiness that everyone should be educated to take in or shut out sounds according to his or her pleasure." _once a week._ * * * * * "the bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone. she never knew how i loved her. he never knew what he was to me. i always meant to make more of your friendship. i did not know what he was to me till he was gone. such are the poisoned arrows which cruel death shoots back at us from the door of the sepulchre." * * * * * we are only really alive when we enjoy the good will of others. goethe. * * * * * a difference of taste in jokes is a great strain on the affections. george eliot. * * * * * "power hath not one-half the might of gentleness." * * * * * manner is of importance. a kind no is often more agreeable than a rough yes. bengel. * * * * * we are always clever with those who imagine we think as they do. to be shallow you must differ from people; to be profound you must agree with them. bulwer. * * * * * if you want to spoil all that god gives you; if you want to be miserable yourself and a maker of misery to others, the way is easy enough. only be selfish, and it is done at once. charles kingsley. * * * * * language was given us that we might say pleasant things. bovee. * * * * * "the specially social qualities are good nature, amiability, the desire to please, and the kindness of heart that avoids giving offence. a good natured person may frankly disagree with you, but he never offends." * * * * * good manners are made up of petty sacrifices. emerson. * * * * * pride of origin, whether high or low, springs from the same principle of human nature; one is but the positive, the other the negative pole of a single weakness. lowell. * * * * * the best possible impression that you can make by your dress is to make no separate impression at all; but so to harmonize its material and shape with your personality, that it becomes tributary in the general effect, and so exclusively tributary that people cannot tell after seeing you what kind of clothes you wear. j. g. holland. * * * * * nothing is more dangerous than to paint men as they are when by chance they are not as handsome as they would wish to be. edmond about. * * * * * "borrow trouble if you have not enough already." * * * * * refinement creates beauty everywhere. hazlitt. * * * * * "a lady may always judge of the estimation in which she is held by the conversation which is addressed to her." * * * * * some people cannot drive to happiness with four horses, and others can reach the goal on foot. thackeray. * * * * * "the clown who excites the multitudes to mirth is more a benefactor than the conqueror who drapes a thousand homes in mourning." * * * * * "tact is the art of putting yourself in another's place, and being quick about it." * * * * * "it pays per cent. to be polite to everyone, from the garbage gatherer to the governor." * * * * * "if you wish that your own merit should be recognized, recognize the merits of others." * * * * * "if you cannot be happy in one way, be happy in another; and this facility of disposition wants but little aid from philosophy, for health and good humor are almost the whole affair. many run about after felicity, like an absent man hunting for his hat while it is on his head or in his hand. such persons want nothing to make them the happiest people in the world but the knowledge that they are so." * * * * * "an atchison woman, who three days ago was considered the most popular woman in town, has not one friend left; instead of sympathizing with her friends, as she has heretofore, she began telling them her troubles." _atchison globe._ * * * * * it is the characteristic of folly to discern the faults of others and to forget one's own. cicero. * * * * * what is it to be a gentleman? it is to be honest, to be gentle, to be generous, to be brave, to be wise, and, possessing all these qualities, to exercise them in the most graceful outward manner. thackeray. * * * * * _teach me to feel another's woe, to hide the fault i see; that mercy i to others show, that mercy show to me._ pope. * * * * * "the persians say of noisy, unreasonable talk: 'i hear the noise of the mill-stone, but i see no meal.'" * * * * * we give advice by the bucket, but take it by the grain. alger. * * * * * it is much easier to be critical than correct. beaconsfield. * * * * * "'i am busy, johnnie, and can't help it,' said the father, writing away when the little fellow hurt his finger. 'yes, you could--you might have said oh!' sobbed johnnie. there's a johnnie in tears inside all of us upon occasions." rev. w. c. gannett. * * * * * "you cannot prevent the birds of sadness from flying over your head, but you may prevent them from stopping to build their nests there." * * * * * in general society one should always avoid discussions upon two subjects--religion and politics. in a discussion upon either of these subjects you will find very little intellectual honesty, and it will almost invariably lead to irritating differences of opinion. * * * * * a gentleman is one who understands and shows every mark of deference to the claims of self-love in others and exacts it in return from them. hazlitt. * * * * * "there is no real conflict between truth and politeness; what is imagined to be such is only the crude mistake of those who fail to discover their harmony. politeness, taken in its best sense, is the graceful expression of respect, kind feeling, and good will." * * * * * "beloved among women is she who, having warned a friend of the consequences to follow rash doings, will, when her prophecies have come true, withhold the triumphant: i told you so!" _boston journal._ * * * * * "no one loses by politeness to, or by the trifling exercise of apparent pleasure in a caller. while i have no wish to counsel insincerity, there is a wide difference between that offensive veneer and the pure metal of consideration for the feelings of a stranger within one's gate." lady bellair's advice to girls. what to avoid. a loud, weak, affected, whining, harsh or shrill tone of voice. extravagances in conversation--such phrases as "awfully this," "beastly that," "loads of time," "don't you know," "hate" for "dislike," etc. sudden exclamations of annoyance, surprise and joy,--often dangerously approaching to "female swearing"--as "bother!" "gracious!" "how jolly!" yawning when listening to anyone. talking on family matters, even to bosom friends. attempting any vocal or instrumental piece of music that you cannot execute with ease. crossing your letters. making a sharp, short nod with the head, intended to do duty as a bow. what to cultivate. an unaffected, low, distinct, silver-toned voice. the art of pleasing those around you, and seeming pleased with them and all they may do for you. the charm of making little sacrifices quite naturally, as if of no account to yourself. the habit of making allowances for the opinions, feelings, or prejudices of others. an erect carriage--that is, a sound body. a good memory for faces, and facts connected with them--thus avoiding giving offence through not recognizing or bowing to people, or saying to them what had best been left unsaid. the art of listening without impatience to prosy talkers, and smiling at the twice-told tale or joke. * * * * * "he who would see his sons and daughters thoroughly and truly gentle, must forbid selfishness of action, rudeness of speech, carelessness of forms, impoliteness of conduct from the first, and demand that in childhood and the nursery shall be laid the foundation of that good breeding which is as a jewel of price to the mature man and woman." * * * * * "many persons consider that 'bad temper' is entirely voluntary on the part of the person who displays it. as a matter of fact it is often, to a very great extent, involuntary, and no one is more angry at it than the bad tempered person himself. of course everyone, whether he is born with a bad temper or has acquired one from habit, or has been visited with one as the result of disease or injury, should at least try to control it. but his friends should also bear in mind that bad temper may be, and often is, an affliction to be sympathized with, not an offence to be punished." _once a week._ * * * * * there are some people so given over to the pettiness of fault-picking, that if they should suddenly see the handwriting on the wall, they would disregard its awful warning in their eager haste to point out its defective penmanship. brander matthews. * * * * * "we are all dissatisfied. the only difference is that some of us sit down in the squalor of our dissatisfaction, while others make a ladder of it." * * * * * mrs. julia ward howe said, in speaking of longfellow, that "his personal charm was in a delicateness of mind that was truly cosmopolitan; he had a vivid appreciation of what was beautiful and noble, and he represented the purest taste and the most perfect feeling." was there ever given a finer definition of a gentleman? * * * * * "set a watch over thy mouth, and keep the door of thy lips, for a tale-bearer is worse than a thief." the bible. * * * * * "he submits to be seen through a microscope who suffers himself to be caught in a passion." * * * * * "it isn't what you wear in this life, gentlemen; it is how you wear it. it isn't so much what you do; it is how you do it. there are people who do tasteful things vulgarly, and vulgar things tastefully. who was it that _'kicked them downstairs with such very fine grace, they thought he was handing them up'?_ "a sense of humor is one of the most precious gifts that can be vouchsafed to a human being. he is not necessarily a better man for having it, but he is a happier one. it renders him indifferent to good or bad fortune. it enables him to enjoy his own discomfiture. blessed with this sense, he is never unduly elated or cast down. no one can ruffle his temper. no abuse disturbs his equanimity. bores do not bore him. humbugs do not humbug him. solemn airs do not impose on him. sentimental gush does not influence him. the follies of the moment have no hold on him." _boston journal._ * * * * * there is always a best way of doing everything, if it be but to boil an egg. manners are the happy way of doing things; each one the stroke of genius or of love--now repeated and hardened into usage. your manners are always under examination, and by committees little suspected--a police in citizen's clothes--but are awarding or denying you very high prizes when you least think of it. emerson. * * * * * my experience of life makes me sure of one truth, which i do not try to explain; that the sweetest happiness we ever know, the very wine of human life, comes not from love, but from sacrifice--from the effort to make others happy. this is as true to me as that my flesh will burn if i touch red-hot metal. john boyle o'reilly. * * * * * "a wise man will turn adverse criticism and malicious attacks to good account. he will consider carefully whether there is not in him some weakness or fault which, although he never discovered, was plain to the eye of his enemy. many men profit more by the assaults of foes than by the kindness of friends." * * * * * "politeness is like an air cushion: there may be nothing in it, but it eases our jolts wonderfully." * * * * * don't flatter yourself that friendship authorizes you to say disagreeable things to your intimates. on the contrary, the nearer you come into relation with a person the more necessary do tact and courtesy become. except in cases of necessity, which are rare, leave your friend to learn unpleasant truths from his enemies: they are ready enough to tell them. good breeding never forgets that _amour-propre_ is universal. o. w. holmes. * * * * * whatever our disbeliefs, most of us profoundly believe in goodness; and we incline to believe that a man who has practically learned the secret of noble living has somehow got near the truth of things. geo. s. merriam. * * * * * "a man's bad temper sometimes does more toward spoiling a dinner than a woman's bad cooking." * * * * * _her voice was ever soft, gentle and low; an excellent thing in woman._ shakespeare. * * * * * true politeness is perfect ease and freedom. it simply consists in treating others just as you love to be treated yourself. chesterfield. * * * * * a man has no more right to say an uncivil thing than to act one, no more right to say a rude thing to another than to knock him down. johnson. * * * * * how sweet and gracious, even in common speech, is that fine sense which men call courtesy! wholesome as air and genial as the light, welcome in every clime as breath of flowers,---- it transmutes aliens into trusting friends, and gives its owner passport round the globe. j. t. fields. the end. transcriber's notes . passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. . punctuation errors have been corrected without note. . the following misprints have been corrected: "repuation" corrected to "reputation" (page ) "sympatheic" corrected to "sympathetic" (page ) "stael" corrected to "staël" (page ) . other than the corrections listed above, printer's inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been retained. [illustration: (front cover)] goops and how to be them a manual of manners for polite infants inculcating many juvenile virtues both by precept and example with ninety drawings by gelett burgess [illustration] new york frederick a. stokes company publishers * * * * * copyright, , by gelett burgess twenty-third printing, may , _printed in the united states of america_ * * * * * [illustration: _to agnes who is not (always) a goop!_] [illustration: table of contents] table of contents introduction _page_ table manners--i table manners--ii cleanliness neatness courtesy generosity consideration miss manners borrowing memory books honesty "why?" bed-time modesty disfiguration bravery tidiness patience fortitude george adolphus politeness gentleness hospitality pets remember curiosity willy clothes helpfulness quietness order teasing interruption cry-baby caution tardiness obedience church headaches perseverance doll-time combing and curling cheerfulness _of these rhymes, ten first appeared in_ "st. nicholas," _and are here reprinted by permission of the_ century company. [illustration: introduction] _introduction_ let me introduce a race void of beauty and of grace, extraordinary creatures with a paucity of features. though their forms are fashioned ill, they have manners stranger still; for in rudeness they're precocious, they're atrocious, they're ferocious! yet you'll learn, if you are bright, politeness from the impolite. when you've finished with the book, at your conduct take a look; ask yourself, upon the spot, _are you goop, or are you not?_ for, although it's fun to see them it is terrible to be them! [illustration] [illustration: table manners.--i.] _table manners.--i._ the goops they lick their fingers, and the goops they lick their knives; they spill their broth on the tablecloth-- oh, they lead disgusting lives! the goops they talk while eating, and loud and fast they chew; and that is why i'm glad that i am not a goop--are you? [illustration] [illustration: table manners.--ii.] _table manners.--ii._ the goops are gluttonous and rude, they gug and gumble with their food; they throw their crumbs upon the floor, and at dessert they tease for more; they will not eat their soup and bread but like to gobble sweets, instead, and this is why i oft decline, when i am asked to stay and dine! [illustration] [illustration: cleanliness (top)] _cleanliness_ the goops they are spotted on chin and on cheek, you could dig the dirt off with a trowel! but _you_ wash your face twenty times every week, and you don't do it _all_ with the towel! the goops are all dirty, and what do they do? they like to be dirty, and stay so. but if _you_ were dirty, you'd wash, wouldn't you? if you needed a bath, you would say so! [illustration] [illustration: neatness] _neatness_ goops leave traces everywhere-- gum stuck underneath the chair, muddy footprints in the hall, show that goops have been to call; shoes and stockings on the floor show where goops have been before! [illustration] [illustration: courtesy] _courtesy_ i wonder why it is polite in shaking hands, to give your _right_. i wonder why it is refined in passing one, to go _behind_. i wonder why it is well-bred, if you must sneeze, to turn your head. perhaps the reason is because the goops, they never have such laws! [illustration] [illustration: generosity] _generosity_ when you have candy, do you go and give your sister half? when little brother stubs his toe, do you look on and laugh? the greediest goop would give away the things he didn't need-- to share the toys with which you play, that's generous, indeed! [illustration] [illustration: consideration] _consideration_ when you're old, and get to be thirty-four or forty-three, don't you hope that you will see children all respect you? will they, without being told, wait on you, when you are old, or be heedless, selfish, cold? i _hope_ they'll not neglect you! [illustration] [illustration: miss manners] _miss manners_ no matter how you wish for the last one on the dish, miss manners has a right to it, not you; and the largest one of all, or the nicest, big or small-- well, i think you'd better leave her _that_ one too! [illustration] [illustration: borrowing] _borrowing_ whose doll is that on the table? whose book is that on the chair? the knife and the pencils and other utensils, now how do they come to be there? didn't you say they were borrowed? you'd better take back just a few! if _you_ lent your playthings, i think you would say things if no one returned them to you! [illustration] [illustration: memory] _memory_ my teacher taught me, yesterday, a very pretty piece to say; but when i try to think of it, i can't remember it a bit! my head's so full of toys and such, i can't remember very much! my teacher told me yesterday "_work when you work; play when you play!_" when i am playing with my toys i am the busiest of boys; but when i study or i work i'm 'fraid i _am_ inclined to shirk! [illustration] [illustration: books] _books_ i have a notion the books on the shelves are just as much persons as we are, ourselves. when you are older, you'll find this is true; you'd better be careful to make books like you! [illustration] [illustration: honesty] _honesty_ the boy who plays at marbles and doesn't try to cheat, who always keeps his temper, no matter if he's beat, is sure to be a favorite with all upon the street. the girl who counts her hundreds very fairly, when she's "it" who doesn't peep or listen, nor turn around a bit, i'm sure she's not a goop, in fact, she's quite the opposite! [illustration] [illustration: "why?"] "_why?_" josephus never yet was heard to say but just one single word! when father said to go to bed, then "_why?_" was all josephus said. when mother bade him stop his play, then "_why?_" josephus used to say. he always made the same reply. 'twas never anything but "why?" [illustration] [illustration: bed-time] _bed-time_ the night is different from the day-- it's darker in the night; how can you ever hope to play when it's no longer light? when bed-time comes, it's time for you to stop, for when you're yawning, you should be dreaming what you'll do when it's to-morrow morning. [illustration] [illustration: modesty] _modesty_ the proper time for you to show whatever little tricks you know is when grown people ask you to; _then_ you may show what you can do! but sometimes mother's head will ache with all the jolly noise you make, and sometimes other people, too, can't spend the time to play with you! [illustration] [illustration: disfiguration] _disfiguration_ have you ever seen the scrawls on the fences and the walls, all the horrid little pictures and the horrid little names? don't you think it is a shame? are the goops the ones to blame? did you ever catch them playing at their horrid little games? [illustration] [illustration: bravery] _bravery_ it's terrible brave to try to save a girl on a runaway horse; you could do that, of course! but think of trying to keep from crying, when you're hungry and tired and cross-- you couldn't do _that_, of course! [illustration] [illustration: tidiness] _tidiness_ little scraps of paper, little crumbs of food, make a room untidy, everywhere they're strewed. do you sharpen pencils, ever, on the floor? what becomes of orange-peels and your apple-core? can you blame your mother if she looks severe. when she says, "it looks to me as if the goops were here"? [illustration] [illustration: patience] _patience_ the clock will go slow if you watch it, you know; you must work right along and forget it. so study your best till it's time for a rest, the clock will go fast, if you let it! [illustration] [illustration: fortitude] _fortitude_ when you have been a naughty child, or taken more than was your share, when you've been sulky, cross or wild, you must not say, "oh, i don't care!" but when you hate to see it rain, and when it's time to comb your hair, and when you have a little pain, _then_ you can say, "oh, i don't care!" [illustration] [illustration: george adolphus] _george adolphus_ oh, think what george adolphus did! the children point and stare. he went where mother had forbid, and said he "_didn't care!_" oh, think what george adolphus did! he made his mother cry! the children whoop "you are a goop! fie! george adolphus, fie!" [illustration] [illustration: politeness] _politeness_ i think it would be lots of fun to be polite to every one; a boy would doff his little hat, a girl would curtsey, just like that! and both would use such words as these: "_excuse me, sir_," and "_if you please_;" not only just at home, you know, but everywhere that they should go. [illustration] [illustration: gentleness] _gentleness_ when you are playing with the girls, you must not pull their pretty curls; if you are gentle when you play, you will be glad of it some day. [illustration] [illustration: hospitality] _hospitality_ when a person visits you, remember he's your guest, receive him very kindly, and be sure he has the best; make him very comfortable and show him all your toys, and only play the games you're very sure that he enjoys. when you pay a visit, never grumble or complain, try to be so affable they'll want you there again; don't forget the older ones, your hostess least of all, when you're leaving tell her you have had a pleasant call! [illustration] [illustration: pets] _pets_ almost every goop forgets when it's time to feed his pets, 'cause his memory fails; listen to his wails! he is often scratched or bitten by the puppy or the kitten, 'cause he pulls their tails! [illustration] [illustration: remember] _remember_ remember not to suck your thumb; remember not to slam the door; remember when the callers come to take your toys from off the floor. [illustration] [illustration: curiosity] _curiosity_ i think that it would help you much if you'd remember _not to touch_. the goops do this, and they do more, they peep and listen at the door! they open bottles of cologne, and feel of parcels not their own! but there are many stupid folks who do not care for children's jokes. [illustration] [illustration: willy] _willy_ willy broke the window-pane. willy spilled the ink, willy left the water-pipe running in the sink! did his mother punish him? no! i'll tell you why. willy, he owned up to it, and didn't tell a lie! willy told his mother before she found it out _he_ said: "i am so sorry!" _she_ said "i have no doubt!" [illustration] [illustration: clothes] _clothes_ when you are playing in the dirt, you should wear clothes you cannot hurt; it will not matter, when they're worn, if they are just a _little_ torn. but when you're really nicely dressed, be careful of your sunday best! you must not crawl upon your knees; be careful of your elbows, please! [illustration] [illustration: helpfulness] _helpfulness_ i never knew a goop to help his mother, i never knew a goop to help his dad, and they never do a thing for one another; they are actually, absolutely bad! if you ask a goop to go and post a letter, or to run upon an errand, _how_ they act! but somehow i imagine you are better, and you _try_ to go, and _cry_ to go, in fact! [illustration] [illustration: quietness] _quietness_ hush! for your father is reading. hush! for your mother is ill. hush! for the baby is sleeping, and may be he'll catch a nice dream if you're still. kiss me, and promise you will! [illustration] [illustration: order] _order_ make your soldiers march away, when you're finished with your play. lead them to the barrack-box, make them carry all your blocks. teach your doll to go to bed, not to lie about instead; tell her she must clear away everything she's used to-day. all your playthings and your toys must be trained like girls and boys! [illustration] [illustration: teasing] _teasing_ tease to linger longer when your mother bids you go; tease to have a penny when your father answers, "no!" tease to have a story when your uncle doesn't please; that's the way to be a goop--_tease, tease, tease!_ hint about the carriage when there's only room for three; hint about the toys you like and every doll you see; hint about the candy, say you're fond of peppermint; that's the way to be a goop--_hint, hint, hint!_ [illustration] [illustration: interruption] _interruption_ don't interrupt your father when he's telling funny jokes; don't interrupt your mother when she's entertaining folks; don't interrupt the visitors when they have come to call,-- in fact, it's generally wiser not to interrupt at all. [illustration] [illustration: cry-baby] _cry-baby_ i'm sure that i would rather die than have my playmates see me cry; it twists your face and knots your forehead, and makes you look all cross and horrid; and every one who sees you cries "what _is_ the matter with your eyes?" [illustration] [illustration: caution] _caution_ when you travel in the street, are you cautious and discreet? do you look about for horses when your little brother crosses? do you go the shortest way, never stopping once to play? [illustration] [illustration: tardiness] _tardiness_ goodness gracious sakes alive! mother said, "come home at five!" now the clock is striking six, i am in a norful fix! she will think i can't be trusted, and she'll say that she's disgusted! [illustration] [illustration: obedience] _obedience_ the goops are very hard to kill, so they hang out the window-sill; down the banisters they slide-- _i_ could do it if i tried; but when mother tells me "don't," then, of course i really won't! [illustration] [illustration: church headaches (top)] _church headaches_ when 'tis time to go to church do you ever have a chill? when 'tis time to go to school, do you fancy you are ill? oh, be very cautious, please, i can tell by signs like these you have got the goop disease! [illustration] [illustration: perseverance] _perseverance_ tony started bright and early, clearing up his room, soon he found he had to stop and make a little broom; [illustration] so then he went into the yard to get a little stick, but the garden needed weeding, so he set about it, quick! [illustration] then he found his wagon he intended to repair, so he went into the cellar for the hammer that was there; [illustration] he'd just begun to build a box, when it was time for dinner; and that's why tony's father called his son a "_good beginner_." [illustration] [illustration: doll-time] _doll-time_ spring's the time for marbles and fall's the time for tops, but boys don't know, they only go by seeing them in shops! they like a sled in winter, in summer 'tis a kite; but dolls are found the whole year round and every day and night! [illustration] [illustration: combing & curling] _combing & curling_ _when your mother combs your hair,_ _here's a rhyme for you to say:_ _if you try it, i declare,_ _it will take the snarls away!_ in the ocean of my hair, many little waves are there; make the comb, a little boat, over all the billows float; sail the rough and tangled tide till it's smooth on every side, till, like other little girls, i've a sea of wavy curls! [illustration] [illustration: cheerfulness] _cheerfulness_ now the book, is finished (it's too long by half, mere didactic chaff), one more rule won't hurt you: when you practise virtue, do it with a laugh! [illustration] the =american= gentleman's guide to politeness and fashion; or, familiar letters to his nephews. by henry lunettes. the good old name of gentleman. tennyson. people sometimes complain of writers who talk of "i, i." * * * * when i speak to you of myself, i am speaking to you of yourself, also. is it possible that you do not feel that it is so? victor hugo. new edition, carefully revised by the author. philadelphia: j. b. lippincott & co. . entered, according to act of congress, in the year , by j. b. lippincott & co., in the clerk's office of the district court of the united states for the eastern district of pennsylvania. to his young countrymen, this unpretending volume, is, with affectionate pride, inscribed by the author. introduction. "i lang ha'e thought, my youthful friends, a something to have sent you, tho' it may serve no other end than just a kind memento: but how the subject-theme may gang let time and chance determine; perhaps it may turn out a sang, perhaps turn out a sermon." table of contents letter i. dress. propriety of conforming to fashion, with a due regard for individual peculiarities of appearance--eccentricity of taste in dress--obedience to the laws of convention--the vagaries of genius, in this respect--absurdity and affectation originated by the example of byron--all indifference and neglect to be avoided, with regard to dress--anecdote of dr. johnson and the siddons--porson, the greek scholar--horace greeley--aphorism-- habits of a distinguished parisian _savant_--example and opinion of washington with reference to dress--partiality of americans for black, as the color of dress-clothes--practice of men in other countries, in the selection of colors--morning costume of an english gentleman--every english gentleman usefully employed during a portion of each day--dr. johnson's test of good taste in dress--the golden mean in matters of dress--ceremonious costume of a gentleman--mode of wearing the hair and beard-- necessity for artistic taste in one's barber--all extremes of fashion in bad taste--various absurdities in this respect, inconsistent with the "keeping" of modern costume--collars, their size, shape, &c.--sleeve-buttons--bad taste of wearing flash stones--use of diamonds in dress--simplicity in the appendages of dress, the characteristic of true refinement-- signet-rings--distinctive points of difference between the exterior of a gentleman and of a loafer--all staring patterns in gentlemen's clothes exceptionable--a white suit throughout, for warm weather--thin cravats--body linen-- kotzebue's test of high-breeding--strength and comfort the essential characteristics of working garments--fitness and propriety even in matters of dress, indicative of a well-regulated mind--every american should aim to be a true gentleman--importance of trifles, when viewed in the aggregate--influence of dress, etc., upon character and manner--wearing gloves in dancing--white gloves alone unexceptionable for ceremonious evening occasions--gloves suitable for the street and morning visits--bright-colored gloves in bad _ton_--illustrative anecdote--over-garments-- variety sanctioned by fashion--becomingness of different styles--inconvenience and ill-appearance of shawls--when suitable--south american poncho--anecdote--new reading of lord nelson's celebrated naval orders--difference between talking and writing, the author's apology for numerous defects--the mill-boy of the slashes--the author unacquainted with the elegancies of modern fashionable nomenclature--terms of agreement between the author and his correspondents, letter ii. dress--(_continued._) stories and anecdotes illustrative of dress. the hero of the ball-room.--the author's liking for mass meetings--a fête--louis philippe and the militia officer--a real soldier conquered by the fair!--the "observed of all observers"--a morning visit--dissection of the "observed of all observers"--the hero of the ball-room is consigned to the "tomb of the capulets" in a bright, pea-green, thin muslin shooting-jacket! anecdote of bulwer, the novelist, the green mountain boy and his new cloak, count orloff at the "peace convention," the fashionable hat.--a young clergyman resolves to visit "the city"--his plans for economy--a new black coat--a secret design--fashionable ridicule--the young clergyman makes the mortifying discovery that he is wearing a "shocking bad hat"--reluctantly determines to buy a new one--a traveller in an old "kossuth"--test of what is admissible in the dress of the clergy--reflections of a "sadder and a wiser" man--the uncle and his little nephew--"bradbrook's" and the "pretty coat"--another secret "design--the tyrant of social life, the chief justice--and the travelling gloves of an exquisite, gov. marcy and the parisians.--the american secretary of legation at st. cloud, at a court dinner--address of the turkish ambassador--the distinctive mark of a gentleman, the red cornelian pÂtÉ.--sketch of an elegant leaning upon a bass-viol--poetry of the female voice--an alpine party--a lady's avowal--coxcombs--a mysterious stranger--my lundy-lane sword--a figure of speech appropriate to a sportsman's daughter--the "weed" and the shawl--an apple--the "tug of war"--the pitiable finger! and the cranberry pâté--design of the "mysterious stranger"--jack the giant-killer and his victim--a revelation--the dove and the vulture, postscript to letter ii.--letter to the author from a distinguished man of fashion--directions for the details of gentlemen's dress, on various occasions--wedding costume-- morning and evening--evening dress--dress for morning visits--costume for bachelors' dinner-parties--general remarks upon colors, etc.--effect of black dress--blue-- brown--anecdote of beau brummel--opinion of a french critic--importance of the "cut" of garments--ease the first essential--an artistic air--wadding, or stuffing, to be used in moderation--sensible observations of a man of discriminating taste, letter iii manner. aphorism of a celebrated observer of human nature--manner indicative of character--benefits of care and attention in youth--the fashionable manner of the day--danger of affectation in manner--americans too often caricature their european models--good sense and manly independence the best guides in the formation of manner--true politeness--elegant definition of politeness by a celebrated author--good breeding inseparable from the character of a gentleman--sir philip sidney, a christian gentleman--manner the proper expression of mental qualities--the laws of convention--their proper use and applicability--conduct towards superiors in age and station one test of good breeding--example of washington in this respect--polished manners of the men of revolutionary days--bad taste of slang language and disrespectful familiarity in speaking of superiors or parents--reverence rendered to age by the ancients--rudeness of "young america" in this respect--the law of kindness a sure correction--possibility of benefit to be derived from the consideration of those who have seen the world-- disadvantages of early neglect of manner--improvement always possible, at any age--benefit of the early acquisition of habits of self-control and self-possession--advantage of proper examples in this respect, the handsome engineer.--a railroad dépót and a dilemma--the field-book and soiled boots--the blessings of civilization-- an honest saxon word--the charge--the arrival--a recognition --a metamorphosis--the economy of driving in dress-boots-- a whisper--the secret of the charm of manner, an after-dinner coterie.--the st. nicholas hotel and santa claus--a pleasant meeting--a social re-union--the _dramatis personæ_ of the occasion--a sketch--"willard's," at washington--the weary child--the courteous strangers--a grateful tribute--charge against american ladies--southern manner--the stupid porter and the _contre-temps_--an inference--a scene in a country tavern--a french-woman and a yankee-woman--jonathan and the snuff-box--a tooth-ache and a rocking-chair--sympathy and vivacity--the climax of impatience! a polite young irelander,--a fight--an exclamation--a fair vision, letter iv. manner--(_continued._) practical directions.--senator sumner's appropriate sentence--primary importance of manner at home--a reiterated charge--manner to parents--unvarying confidence and reverence due to a father--tenderness of manner to a mother--example of washington--a revolutionary ball--nature the best teacher of duty--too great familiarity, even with relations, objectionable --manner to brothers and sisters--no assumption of superiority justified by birthright, or circumstances--every man the guardian of his sisters--a sister's love--manner to a wife-- the preservation of her affection--the "spectator," and a sketch of an old-school husband--impressive teaching--a plea for old-fashioned authors--reverence for the _lares_ should be inviolate--the graces of manner always discerned by the gentler sex--the sensibility of woman--domestic politeness-- cheerful manner in conferring favors--importance of trifles, in this respect--the true nobleness of manhood--aphorism of the latinists--manner to children--their innocence and susceptibility--the influence of example in this regard-- children judges of character--power of the law of love over the young--supremacy of moral obligation--manner not to be regarded as insignificant by the christian gentleman--manner to the unfortunate--towards servants and inferiors--arrogance to be avoided--mode of addressing domestics--queen elizabeth and her courtiers--effect of a pleasant word and a pleasant tone--peculiar sensitiveness of the uneducated in this respect --the professional figure of an old soldier!--manifestations of sympathy for inferiors in station--readily instructed by a kind manner, anecdotes and tales, illustrative of manner. emperors not always well-bred.--manner of napoleon le grand to women--a family levee--reply of the mother of bonaparte to her son--napoleon's stringent enforcement of court rules--the first consul and the lady's train--josephine's timidity and her husband's brutality--maria louise's bridal-scene--an almost sacrilegious misnomer, a father's rebuke.--a steamer on the ohio--the two friends-- cabin-chit-chat--youthful mirth reproved--the effect of a scene--the fortunate guest--a family mansion and family group--a "study," the moral sublime: an anecdote, the sailor and his mother, the brothers.--early separation--home meetings--the pomposity of the alderman--a family quarrel--the respectful son--the recording angel--charley visits the city--a morning call--its result, washington irving's sketch of an old english gentleman, the poet rogers and his man friday, the family green-room, or life behind the scenes.--an old soldier weather-bound--a morning sortie--an invitation-- youthful hospitality--a nursery fixture--the "eldest son and hope of the house"--a playful salutation--the "land of promise"--an armful--lunch--an unexpected interposition--an overland journey--a catastrophe--rubicon crossing--the dolphin--the baked apple--a "poor man"--the "cup of cold water"--a stick for each--spectacled reconnoitering--cheerful words--devotional scene--scientific inquiry--a capture--escape by stratagem--almost a martyr--the old soldier re-visits the "mess" of his camp-ground--a dangerous invader--green-room asides--a rehearsal--college comforts--a sketch by one of 'em--a stage-trick--anecdote of john kemble, the actor--a disclaimer and a commentary--exit of a "star"--table-talk, letter v. manner in detail. manner in the street--upon meeting a friend or acquaintance-- proper mode of salutation--"drawing" gloves--stopping to talk--tact and ease--leaving a companion in the street-- manner to inferiors in the street--rule, when meeting a gentleman-acquaintance walking with ladies whom you do not know--when you are acquainted with both ladies and gentlemen whom you may meet--shaking hands with ladies in the street at meeting or at parting--courteous phrases--parting ceremonies --precedence in the street--taking the arm of another man-- walking with ladies--proper relative position--opening doors, etc.--when meeting ladies--upon being stopped by a lady-- manner to a stranger lady--when you wish to speak with a lady in the street--when wishing to join a lady in her promenade--proper caution in this respect--rule respecting the recognition of a lady--an awkward third--considerations due to ladies in case of street-accidents--courtesy to ladies who are alighting from a carriage--custom of offering the arm to ladies in the street, when ascending steps, etc. --on entering church, etc., with ladies--as one of a travelling-party, etc.--gait in walking with elderly persons or ladies generally--staring at ladies in public places-- manner to ladies entering an opera house, at a pump-room, etc.--audible comments upon strangers, sketches illustrative of manners. the "cut" portuguese.--newspapers and coffee--west point and a discussion--a foreigner's revenge, the broken fan: a lady's lament, the "iron duke," and youthful reminiscences, unexpected rencontre--a stroll and a compliment--a gentleman of the old school in the street--a tribute--a daughter's boast--a wedding--the bridal tour--the rail-car--an intruder--true politeness--the glass of medical-water--the denouement, the letter-box.--an exciting exclamation--a group for a painter--a query--entreaties--an explanatory prelude--the fruitless search--the appeal--a dialogue--an admission-- musical sounds--a prosy inquiry--the summing up--the damper --the wish of a true woman--an insinuation--a description drawn from life--a valuable portrait--a tribute to american gentlemen--an illustration--stage politeness to a lady-- acted poetry: the poetry of real life! the prisoner of the colliseum.--a moonlight walk--a secret appeal--the fair epicurean--the recitation--an apparition --the lasso--a witty reply--the guerdon--the clarion-note-- a brilliant--horseback on the campagnia of rome--the pope's cortège--a recognition--a denouement--a confession and the retort courteous--a sudden transformation--the beautiful arm--powers' studio--the artist's discovery--an intimation, letter vi. manner--(_continued._) rules to be observed in making morning visits, and in society generally. aversion to ceremonious morning visits--proper hours--suitable brevity--character of conversation--card of announcement-- visits made at hotels--precautionary rules--mode of entering a drawing-room--drawing-room rules--when meeting other visitors--when interrupted--when wishing to leave a message or make an appointment, etc.--proper courtesy when visitors are taking leave--short visits of mere ceremony--attendance upon ladies making morning visits--attentions suitable-- introducing--ladies to take precedence in rising to go away --gentlemen calling together--dress, etc.,--when awaiting ladies in a public parlor--standing when ladies are standing --offering the arm--suitable gait--minutia of politeness-- morning wedding-receptions--whom you should congratulate-- general directions--tact and good taste--leaving cards--visits on new-year's day--ceremonious intercourse with superiors-- manner at church--mrs. chapone's rule--self-possession one of the distinctive characteristics of good-breeding--whispering, laughing, staring, etc., to be avoided--retaining the hat not admissible--salutations at church--attending ladies at concerts, lectures, opera, etc. etc.--propriety of retaining the seat you take on entering--incommoding others--courtesy due to those near you--manner of well-bred persons in a picture gallery, etc.,--reverence due to the beautiful and the good--partaking of refreshments in public places-- discourtesy of any semblance of intrusiveness--etiquette in joining a party--politeness not to be laid aside in business-intercourse--elaborate ceremony unsuitable, at times--the secret of popularity--manner at a public table-- courtesy to others--self-importance a proof of vulgarity-- "fast" feeding--pardonable luxuriousness--staring--listening to private conversations--rudeness of loud talking and laughing, shrugs, glances, or whispers--courtesy due to a lady entering a dining-room--to older persons--meeting or passing ladies in public houses--influence of trifles in the formation of character--frequent discourtesy in ignoring the presence of ladies in public parlors, etc. etc.--politeness due to women, in practical emergencies--nocturnal peccadilloes--travelling--true rules--courtesy to ladies, to age, to the suffering--indecorum of using tobacco, etc. etc., in public conveyances--ceremony a shield, but not an excuse--a challenge extraordinary--anecdote of p----, the poet--practice and tact essential to secure polish of manner--life-long stumbling--practical rules, the result of annoying experience--carriage hire--driving with ladies, etc.,--manner in social intercourse--as host--etiquette of dinners at home--precedence--distinguished guests--a lady--a gentleman--reception and introduction of guests--true hospitality as host, better than mere ceremony--manner towards those unacquainted with conventional rules--manner at routs, at home--attention to guests compatible with good _ton_--anecdote--respect to be rendered to all one's acquaintances in general society--to married ladies--to strangers--the distinction thus exhibited between the under-bred and the genuine man of the world--no one entitled to self-excuses in this regard, anecdotes, sketches, etc. a prophesy.--table-talk--a rescue and a lady's gratitude --jealousy disarmed--backwoodsmen--cordiality--costume and courtesy--retort courteous--an interpolation and a protest --mr. clay's popularity with the fair--secret of his success in society--mr. clay and the _belle esprit_--a definition of politeness--a comical illustration--a pun--a well-turned compliment--unconsciousness of self--a stranger's impressions --a poetic tribute, the devotee of the beautiful.--a morning drive--anticipation --spiritual enjoyment--discord--a disappointment, the soldier's wife and the ghoul.--a journey--the truly brave --the arrival--a chapter of accidents--self-reproach--the ghoul--the calmness of despair--the versatility of woman-- but a step from the sublime to the ridiculous--the ghoul again--a defiant spirit--punctilious ceremony, a fair champion.--a query and its solution--a sketch--raillery --a tête-à-tête--an interruption--"fashionable" hospitality-- genuine hospitality--a mother's advice--an indignant spirit-- rebellion, the man of one idea.--an object for worship--a soirée--a polite colloquy--the host at ease--a pleasing hostess--the climax, young america--an anecdote, the practical philosopher.--a handsome aristocrat--an accusation--a courteous neighbor--fall of a "fixed star" --favorite aphorism of mrs. combe--the daughter of the siddons, letter vii. health. the toilet, as connected with health. the true basis of health--temperance an inclusive term --foundation of the eminence of j. q. adams--his life a model for the young--his early habits--vigorous old age-- example of franklin in regard to temperance--illustrations afforded by our national history--the bath--varying opinions and constitutions--imprudent use of the bath--bishop heber-- general directions--the art of swimming--sponging-- deficiencies of the toilet in england--collateral benefits arising from habitual sponge-bathing--the hair--all fantastic dressing of the hair in bad taste--use of pomades--vulgarity of using strong perfumes--the teeth--use of tobacco--smoke dispellers--the nails--the feet--a complete wardrobe essential to health--early rising--its manifold advantages--example of washington, franklin, etc., in this respect--daniel webster's eulogy upon morning--retiring early--truth of a medical dogma --opposition of fashion and health--early hours essential to the student--importance of the early acquisition of correct habits in this regard--illustration--a combination of right habits essential to health--exercise--walking--pure air--the lungs of a city--superiority of morning air--an erect carriage of the body in walking--periodical exercise--necessary caution --the unwise student--a warning--a knowledge of dietetics and physiology requisite to the preservation of health--suitable works on these subjects--riding and driving the accomplishments of a gentleman--a horse a desirable possession--testimony of dr. johnson--the pride of skill--needful caution--judicious selection of _locale_ for these modes of exercise--dr. beatie's tribute to nature--importance of temperance in eating and drinking, as regards health--the cultivation of simple tastes in eating--proper preparation of food important to health-- re-action of the human constitution--effect of bodily health upon the mind--the pernicious use of condiments, etc., etc. --young ambition's ladder.--hours for meals--dining late-- injurious effects of prolonged abstinence--the stimulus of distension--repletion--necessity of deliberate and thorough mastication--judicious use of time in eating--the use of wine, tobacco, etc.--the truly free!--dr. johnson's opinion--novel argument against the habits of smoking and drinking--advice of sir walter raleigh to the young--then and now--council of a "looker-on" in this utilitarian age--erroneous impressions --authority of a celebrated writer--social duties--the unbent bow--rational enjoyment the wisest obedience to the natural laws--a determined pursuit in life essential to happiness and health--too entire devotion to a single object of pursuit, unwise--arcadian dreams--attainable realities--truisms--decay of the social and domestic virtues--human sacrifices-- relaxations and amusements requisite to health--superiority of amusements in the open air for students and sedentary persons generally--benefits of cheerful companionship-- objection to games, etc., that require mental exertion-- converse rule--fashionable watering-places ill adapted to health--avocations of the farmer, tastes as a naturalist, travel, sporting, etc., recommended--depraved public taste --slavery to fashion--habits of europeans, in this respect, superior to our own--modern degeneracy--folly thralled by pride, illustrative sketches and anecdotes. to give eternity to time.--the senate-chamber and the dying statesman--the moral sublime, jonathan's sins and a foreigner's peccadillo.--celebrities --dinner-table sallies--grave charges--yankee rejection of cold meats--self-preservation the first law of nature!-- a mystery solved--national impartiality--anecdote--storming a fort--successful defence, by a lady, of herself!--a stratagem--the daughter of a gun--an explanation--the tortures of outraged modesty, dr. abernethy and his yankee patient, cosmopolitan chit-chat.--a heterogeneous party--the golden horn--contemplations in a turkish caique--a discussion-- "christian dogs" and the dogs of constantinople--an unpleasant discovery--a magical touch--the song of the caidjis--a national example, the imperturbable guest.--a dinner-table scene, the youth and the philosopher: lines by whitehead, letter viii. letter-writing. importance of this branch of education--its frequent neglect --usual faults of the epistolary style--applicability of the rule of the lightning-tamer--variety of styles appropriate to varying subjects and occasions--impossibility of laying down all-inclusive general rules--requisites of letters of business--legibility in caligraphy--affectation in this respect--avoidance of servile imitation--advantage of possessing a good business-hand--time-saving importance of rapidity--letters of introduction--form suitable for ordinary purposes--specimen of letters introducing a person in search of a business situation, place of residence, etc., etc.-- introduction of artists, professional men, etc.--presenting a celebrity by letter--proper attention to titles, modes of abbreviating titles, etc., etc.--letters of introduction to be unsealed--manner of delivering letters of introduction-- cards, envelopes, written messages, etc., proper on such occasions--appointments and due courtesy, etc.--form of letter to a lady of fashion--etiquette in regard to addresses --letters presenting foreigners--personal introductions-- common neglect of etiquette in this respect--proper mode of introducing young persons, or those of inferior social position--of introducing men to women, very young ladies, etc.--voice and manner on such occasions--explanations due to strangers--common social improprieties--american peculiarity --hotel registers, etc.--courtesy due to relations as well as to strangers--impropriety of indiscriminate introductions-- preliminary ceremonies among men--in the street--at dinners --evening-parties--receptions--conventional rules subject to changes, dictated by good-sense--supremacy of the law of kindness--visiting cards--european fashion of cards--style usual in america--place of residence--phrases for cards --business cards: ornaments, devices, color, size, legibility, etc.--letters of recommendation--moral characteristic--proper style of letters of condolence-- form of letters of congratulation--admissibility of brevity --letters to superiors--ceremonious form for such communications--proper mode of addressing entire strangers --common error in this respect--punch's sarcasm--diplomats and public functionaries should be models in letter-writing --an enigma--diplomatic letters--letters of friendship and affection--general requisites of epistolary composition-- letters a means of conferring and receiving pleasure-- distinctive characteristic of the epistolary style-- peccadilloes--aids facilitating the practice in this accomplishment--notes of invitation, acceptance, regret --observance of usage--simplicity the best _ton_ and taste --etiquette with regard to invitations to dinner--courtesy in matters of social life--error of an american author-- ceremony properly preceding taking an uninvited friend to a party--abstract good-breeding the best test of propriety --proper form of ceremonious notes of invitation--use of the third person in writing notes--mailed letters--local addresses, form of signature, etc., etc.--requisites of letter-superscription--writing-materials--small sheets, margins, etc.--colored paper, fanciful ornaments, initials, &c.--envelopes and superscription--wax, seals, etc.--european letters--rule--promptitude in letter-writing--study of published models beneficial to the young--scott, byron, moore, horace walpole, washington--sir w. w. pepys, etc. --curiosities of the epistolary style--anticipated pleasure, illustrations. the warning--a sketch of nile-travel.--a group and a dialogue amid the ruins of thebes--mustapha aga and the temple of karnac--the arrival--the distribution--delights, disappointments, and despair, anecdote of the mighty wizard of the north, a drawing-room coterie of criticism.--the library and the intruder--paternal authority--condemnation--comments and criticisms--a compliment--a fair bevy--wit and wisdom-- sport and seriousness--a model note and a fair eulogist-- paternal approbation--what american merchants should be --an anecdote--discoveries and accessions--_apropos_--fair play and a _ruse_--a group of critics--an invitation--a rival--an explanation and an admission--a rescue and retreat --an old man's privilege--seventeen and eighty-two--may and december, the first billet-doux, letter ix. accomplishments. comparative importance of accomplishments--difference between europeans and americans in this regard--self-education the most useful--peculiar incentives to self-culture possessed by americans--cultivation of a taste for the ideal arts-- desirableness of a knowledge of drawing--incidental benefit resulting from the practice of this art--a taste for music-- mistaken conceptions of the importance of this accomplishment --advantage of learning dancing--desirableness of riding and driving--various athletic exercises--a ready and graceful elocution of great importance--a source of social enjoyment --the art of conversation--use of slang phrases--disadvantages of occasional lenity towards the corruptions of language-- the only safe rule--common want of conversational power-- the superiority of the french over all other people in this respect--the salons of paris--pleasures of the _canaille_-- french children--practice essential to success--the embellishments of conversation--habits of a celebrated talker --anecdote of sheridan--some preparation not unsuitable before going into society--qualities most essential to secure popularity in general society--the "guilt of giving pain"--avoidance of personalities--the language of compliment--two good rules--reprehensibleness of the habit of indulging in gossip, scandal, or puerile conversation--the records of "heaven's high chancery"--importance of exact truthfulness in conversation--the capacity of adapting language to occasions of importance--use of foreign phrases or words--tact and good-breeding the safest guides in such matters--advantage of the companionship of cultivated persons, in promoting conversational skill--misuse of strong language--conversational courtesies--aphorism by mr. madison--modesty proper to the young in this respect--bad taste of talking of one's self in society--the world an unsuitable confidant--quotation from carlyle--sympathy with others--the softer graces of social intercourse--cheerfulness universally agreeable--a glee in which everybody can join --anecdote--human sunbeams--judicious selection of conversational topics--avoidance of assumption and dictatorialness--proper regard for the right of opinion --courtesy due to ladies and clergymen--folly of promulgating peculiarities of religious opinion--rudeness of manifesting undue curiosity respecting the affairs of others--boasting of friends--anecdote--quickness at repartee, one of the colloquial graces--dean swift and his "fellow"-- anecdote of the elder adams--a ready and graceful reply to a compliment not to be disregarded among the elegancies of conversation--the retort courteous--lady hamilton and lord nelson--specimens of polite phraseology--general conversation with ladies--essential characteristics of light conversation--improprieties and familiarities-- disagreeable peculiarities--a dismal character--anecdote of cuvier--tact in avoiding personal allusions--peculiarity of american society--ages of the loves and graces--a young jonathan and an english girl--violation of confidence-- sacredness of private conversations--politeness of a ready compliance with the wishes of others in society, illustrative anecdotes and sketches. sang froid and sandwiches.--a ride with a duke--the eager young sportsman--a rencontre--a query and a response--a substantial _bonne bouche_, a frenchman's relaxation, polemics and politeness--watering-place society--omnibus orations--sulphur-water and sacrifices--religionists, ladies and license, reaction and remorse, an unexpected declaration--parisian _furore_--the unknown patient--practice and pathos, the three graces--honor to whom honor was due--a group for a sculptor--woman's wit, scene in a drawing-room, musical mania--guitar playing and the play of intellect, a fair discussion, national dialect--a bagatelle, a murillo and a living study--a morning in the louvre with a congenial friend--a painter's advice--true epicureanism, ready elocution and ready wit--a congressional sketch, letter x. habit. habit always indicative of character--its importance not properly estimated by the young--rudeness and republicanism too often synonymous--fashion not always good-breeding-- social american peculiarities--manners of americans abroad --rowdyism at the tuileries--the propriety of learning from older nations the lighter elegancies of life--madame soulé and the queen of spain--the tie of a cravat and the affairs of "change"--george peabody a model american--the distinctive name of gentleman--great importance of suitable associates-- spanish proverb--the true social standard--safeguard against eccentricity--habits of walking, standing, sitting-- directions--aaron burr and de witt clinton--bachelor privileges--decorum in the presence of ladies--carrying the hat, ease of attitude, etc.--benefits of habitual self-restraint--habits at table--eating with a knife--soiling the lips, picking the teeth, etc., etc.--nicety in matters of detail--courtesy due to others--manner to servants in attendance at table--avoidance of sensuousness of manner-- french mode of serving dinners--the art of carving--helping ladies at table--rule in carving joints of meat--changing the plate--proper mode of taking fish--game--butter at dinner-- english custom--details of habit at table--rights of freemen-- a just distinction--unhealthfulness of drinking too much at dinner--fast eating of fast americans--sitting upon two legs of a chair--anecdote--habits of using the handkerchief--toying with the moustache, etc., etc.--ladies careful observers of minutiæ--belief of the ancient gauls respecting women--habits of swaggering in public places--general suggestions--ladies and invalids in terror of a human war-horse--courtesy due while playing chess and other games--self-control in sickness --premature adoption of eye-glasses--affectation in this respect--proper attitude while reading or studying--habits of early rising--a poetic superstition unwarranted by health and truth--variance between health and fashion in regard to early hours--aphorism by gibbon--habit of taking nostrums-- avoidance of quacks--habit of acting as the protectors of the dependent sex--effect of trifling habits upon the opinions formed of us by women--habits of handling prints, bijouterie, and boquets, of smoking, whispering and ogling, to be shunned--importance of methodical habits of reading and studying--value of the gold dust of time--anecdote-- true rule for reading to advantage--habit of reading aloud --great importance of a habit of industry--the superiors of mere genius--habits of cheerfulness and contentment not to be overlooked by the young--cultivation of habitual self-respect--pride and poverty not necessarily antagonistic --self-respect a shield against the shafts of calumny--true honor not affected by occupation or position--benefits of a habit of self-examination--the habitual study of the scriptures recommended--christ, the great model of humanity --ungentlemanly habit of being late at church, etc.-- pernicious effects of prevalent materialism--personal enjoyment resulting from habitually idealizing all mental associations with women--defencelessness an impassable barrier to oppression from true manhood--impropriety of speaking loudly to ladies in public places, of attracting attention to them, their names and prerogatives--safe rule in this regard--the habit of sympathy with human suffering a christian duty--mistaken opinion of young men in this respect--the examples presented by the lives of the greatly good--mighty achievements in the cause of humanity in the power of a few--habits of good-humor, neatness, order and regularity due to others--fastidious nicety in matters of the toilet, demanded by proper respect for our daily associates --the importance of habits of exercise, temperance and relaxation--economy to be cultivated as a habit--economy not degrading--habit of punctuality--slavery to mere system condemned--remark of sir joshua reynolds--habit of perseverance--value of the habit of putting ideas into words--of habits of reflection and observation--of rendering respect to age, etc.--culture of esthetical perceptions-- american peculiarity--curiosity not tolerated among the well-bred--the inestimable value of self-possession--its natural manifestations--concluding advice, illustrations. jonathan and queen victoria.--a stroll through the world's palace--a royal party--the yankee enthroned--a confession, damon and pythias modernized.--a family council--a celebrity and a hotel dinner--a discovery--a sketch--telegraphing and triumph--beer and a break-down--drawing-room chit-chat--a young lady's eulogy--retort courteous--a new acquaintance-- an explanation--dinner the second--sense and sensibility--a ruse--a request and appointment--a contrast--catastrophy--a note and a disappointment--fair frankness--an unexpected rencontre--the re-union--pictures and pleasantries--the protector of the helpless, a visit to abbotsford.--sir walter scott as colonel of dragoons, sheriff of the county, host, friend, and author --mrs. hemans and little "charley"--courteous hospitality --at driburg with mr. lockhart--solution of a mystery-- sir walter's favorite "lieutenant," confession of a celebrated orator, the lemon and the carnation.--a stage-coach adventure--a fair passenger--churlishness and cheerfulness--a comic duet--stage-sickness--an impromptu physician--offerings --acknowledgments--a docile patient--welcome home--arrival --a family group--a discovery--recognition--an invitation --hospitality--sunday evening at the rectory--the honorable occupation of teaching young ladies--a prophesy--family jars --a compliment, a notability and his newfoundland dog, extremes meet.--european travelling-companion--a cool place and a "cool" character--a foreigner's criticism-- fair commentators--dinner-table sketch--three parties in a rail-car--sunshine and showers--an earth-angel--anecdote of thorwalsden, the danish sculptor--a scene--gentlemanly inquiries--paddy's explanation, have you been impatient?--a broken engagement--about a horse --charley's orphan cousin--ideas of luxury--novel experiences --the freed bird--bless god for flowers and friends!--a recoil--a tirade--the bird re-caged--self-examination-- retrospection and resolution--a note and a boquet--a blush transfixed, letter xi. mental and moral education. the author's conscious incapacity--education within the power of all--americans not socially trammelled--the two attributes of mind essential to self-culture--prospective discernment-- the most enlightened system of education--duty of cultivating the moral as well as the intellectual nature--the acquisition of wealth not to be regarded as the highest human attainment --definition of self-culture--reading for amusement only, unwise--"aids and appliances" of judicious reading--example of a great man--fictitious literature--pernicious effects often resulting from a taste for light reading--condemnation of licentious novels--advantages of noting choice passages in reading--carlyle's criticism of public men--the study of history of great importance--benefits resulting from the perusal of well-selected biographies--enumeration of celebrated works of this character--newspaper and magazine reading--a cultivated taste in literature and art the result of thorough mental training--affectation and pretention in this regard to be avoided--critical assumption condemned-- impressions produced upon observing judges by a pretentious manner--"the world's dread laugh"--advantages of foreign travel--misuse of this advantage--knowledge of modern languages essential to a complete education--false impression prevalent on this point--philosophic wisdom--wise covetousness --tact the result of general self-culture--an individual moral code of advantage--example of washington--education not completed by a knowledge of books--definition of true education--the development of the moral perceptions promotive of intellectual advancement--undue exaltation of talent over virtue--religious faith the legitimate result of rightly-directed education--needful enlightenment of conscience--the life of jesus christ the best moral guide-book--charity to the faults of others the result of self-knowledge--the golden rule of the great teacher--the highest aim of humanity--reverence for the spiritual nature of man the result of self-culture--danger of self-indulgence in regard to trifling errors--caution against the infidel philosophy of the times--the establishment of fixed principles of action--the true mode of computing life, the attainment of knowledge under difficulties--necessity the nurse of true greatness--the learned blacksmith--the wagoner --the mill-boy of the slashes--franklin and webster, a peep at passers-by, from the "loopholes of retreat," the force of genius--a man about town--anecdote--manly indignation, old-fashioned honor, webster on biblical studies, the young frenchman and the pyramids, peccadilloes and punctiliousness.--extract--sir humphrey davy--tribute to religion, letter xii. choice of companions and friends.--selection of a pursuit in life.--courtship.--marriage.--housekeeping.--pecuniary matters. rule to be observed in the selection of associates--advantage of the companionship of persons of more experience than ourselves--false sentiments entertained by lord byron regarding friendship--self-consciousness affords the best contradiction to these erroneous opinions--value of friendship--importance of the judicious selection of confidants--folly of demanding perfection in one's friends --selection of employment--the first consideration in this relation--thorough education should not be confined to candidates for the learned professions--the merchant princes of america--avenues for effort--all honest occupations dignified by right conduct--the pursuit of wealth as an end--freedom the prerogative of the worker--a professional manner condemned--individual insignificance--advantages of early marriage--cause of prevalent domestic unhappiness--each individual the best judge of his own conjugal requisites-- health, good-temper, and education essential in a wife-- accomplishments not essential to domestic happiness-- disadvantages resulting from a previous fashionable career --a true wife--respect due to the proper guardians of a lady by her suitor--advantages of a friendship with a married lady --reserve and respect of manner due to female friends--manly frankness as a suitor the only honorable course--attachment to one woman no excuse for rudeness to others--the art of pleasing--presents, complimentary attentions, etc.--nicety of perception usual in women--power of the law of kindness in home-life--the slightest approach to family dissension to be carefully avoided--the duty of a husband to exert a right influence over his wife--union of spirit the only satisfying bond--more than roman sternness assumed by some--sacredness of all the better emotions of the human heart--expressive synonymes--pecuniary matters--the pernicious effects of boarding--an old man's advice--household gods--propriety of providing for future contingencies--slavery imposed by pride and poverty--comfort and refinement compatible with moderate resources--books and works of art to be preferred to fine furniture--importance of cherishing the esthetical tastes of children--"keeping" a great desideratum in social and domestic life, illustrative sketches, etc. the mooted point.--a morning visit and morning occupations-- macaulay and the blanket coat--curate's daughters and the daughters of new-england--a sybarite--a disclaimer and a witticism--not a gentleman--"trifles make the sum of human things"--the slough of despond--a gift--reading poetry-- a soldier's tactics--the "unpardonable sin"--a fair champion and a noble sentiment, anecdotes of a british minister, an ex-governor, and an american statesman, chief-justice marshall and the young man of fashion, habits of early friends, the prophecy fulfilled.--a denouement--cupid turned carrier-- wedding-cards and welcome news--a true woman's letter, uncle hal's farewell, the american gentleman's guide. letter i. dress. my dear young friends:-- as you are already, to some extent, acquainted with the design and scope of the letters i propose to address to you, there is no necessity for an elaborate prelude at the commencement of the series. we will, with your permission, devote our attention first to _dress_--to the external man--and advance, in accordance with the true rules of art, gradually, towards more important subjects. whatever may be the abstract opinions individually entertained respecting the taste and regard for comfort evinced in the costume now, with trifling variations, almost universally adopted by men in all civilized lands, few will dispute the practical utility of conforming to the general requisitions of fashion. happily for the gratification of fancy, however, the all-potent goddess, arbitrary and imperative as are her laws, permits, at least to some extent, such variations from her general standard as personal convenience, physical peculiarities, or varying circumstances may require. but a due regard for these and similar considerations by no means involves the exhibition of _eccentricity_, which i hold to be inconsistent with good taste, whether displayed in dress or manner. a violation of the established rules of convention cannot easily be defended, except when required by our obligations to the more strenuous requirements of duty. usually, however, departures from conventional propriety evince simply an ill-regulated character. the laws of convention, like all wise laws, are instituted to promote "the greatest good of the greatest number." they constitute a _code of politeness and propriety_, adapted to the promotion of social convenience, varying somewhat with local circumstances, it may be, but everywhere substantially the same. it is common to talk of the eccentricities of genius, as though they are essential concomitants of genius itself. nothing can be more unfounded and pernicious than this impression. the eccentricities that sometimes characterize the intellectually gifted, are but so many humiliating proofs of the imperfection of human nature, even when exhibiting its highest attributes. hence the affectation of such peculiarities simply subjects one to ridicule, and, in many instances, to the contempt of sensible people. some years since, when byron was the "bright, particular star" worshipped by young sophs, it was quite a habit among our juvenile collegians to drink gin, wear their collars _à la mode de byron_, cultivate misanthropy upon system, and manifest the most concentrated horror of seeing women eat! in too many instances, the sublimity of genius was meagerly illustrated by these aspirants for notoriety. in place of catching an inspiration, they only caught cold; their gloomy indifference to the hopes, the enjoyments, and pursuits of ordinary life, distressed no one, save, perhaps, their _ci-devant_ nurses, or the "most tender of mothers;" their "killing" peculiarities of costume were scarcely daguerreotyped even upon the impressible hearts of the school-girls whose smiling observance they might chance passingly to arrest; women of sense and education pertinaciously adhered to a liking for roast beef, with variations, and manifested an equally decided partiality for the society and attention of men who were not indebted for the activity of their intellects to the agency of the juniper berry! falling into such absurdities as these, a man cannot hope to escape the obnoxious imputation of being _very young_! but while care is taken to avoid the display of undue attention to the adornment of the outer man, everything approaching to indifference or neglect, in that regard, should be considered equally reprehensible. no one entertains a more profound respect for the prodigious learning of dr. johnson, from knowing that he often refused to dine out rather than change his linen; nor are we more impressed by the gallant tribute to kindred genius that induced his attending mrs. siddons to her carriage, when she visited him in the third-floor rooms he continued to occupy even in his old age, because his trunk-hose were dangling about his heels, as he descended the stairs with his fair guest. one does not envy porson, the greatest of modern greek scholars, his habitually dirty and shabby dress, because it is forever associated with his learned celebrity! neither is greeley a better, or more influential editor, that he is believed to be invisible to mortal eyes except when encased in a long drab-colored overcoat. he, however, seems to have adopted an axiom laid down in a now almost-forgotten novel much admired in my youth--"thaddeus of warsaw," i think--"acquire the character of an oddity, and you seat yourself in an easy-chair for life." the supposition of monomania most charitably explains the indulgence in habits so disgusting as those well-known to have characterized the distinguished _savant_ ----, who died recently at paris. had he slept in a clean bed, and observed the decencies of life, generally, the race would have been equally benefited by his additions to scientific lore, and his country the more honored that he left a name in no degree in _bad odor_ with the world! but to return:--no better uninspired model for young americans exists than that afforded, in the most minute details, of the life and character of washington; and even upon a point comparatively so insignificant as that we are at present discussing, he has left us his recorded opinion: "always," he writes to his nephew, "have your clothes made of the best materials, by the most accomplished persons in their business, whose services you can command, and in the prevailing fashion." with such illustrious authority for the advice, then, i unhesitatingly counsel you to dress _in the fashion_. to descend to particulars designed to include all the minutiæ of a gentleman's wardrobe, were as futile as useless; but a few hints upon this point, may, nevertheless, not be wholly out of place in epistles so frank, practical and familiar as these are intended to be. the universal partiality of our countrymen for _black_, as the color of dress clothes, at least, is frequently remarked upon by foreigners. among the best dressed men on the continent, as well as in england, black, though not confined to the clergy, is in much less general use than here. they adopt the darker shades of blue, brown and green, and for undress almost as great diversity of colors as of fabrics. an english gentleman, for instance, is never seen in the morning (which means abroad all that portion of the twenty-four hours devoted to business, out-door amusements and pursuits, &c.;--it is always _morning_ until the late dinner hour has passed) in the half-worn coat of fine black cloth, that so inevitably gives a man a sort of shabby-genteel look; but in some strong-looking, rough, knock-about "fixin," frequently of nondescript form and fashion, but admirably adapted both in shape and material for use--for work. of this, by the way, every man, worthy of the name, has a daily portion to perform, in some shape or other--from the duke of devonshire, with a fortune that would purchase half-a-dozen consort-king-growing german principalities, and leave a princely inheritance for his successors, to the youngest son of a youngest son, who, though proud of the "gentle blood" in his veins, earns, as an _employé_ in the service of the government,--in some one of its ten thousand forms of patronage and power--the limited salary that barely suffices, when eked out by the most ingenious economy, to supply the hereditary necessities of a gentleman. but this is a digression. as i was saying in the morning, during work-hours, whatever be a man's employment, and wherever, his outside garb should be suited to ease and convenience, its only distinctive marks being the most scrupulous cleanliness, and the invariable accompaniment of fresh linen. coming to the discussion of matters appertaining to a toilette elaborate enough for occasions of ceremony, i think of no better general rule than that laid down by dr. johnson (in his character of a shrewd observer of men and manners, rather than as himself affording an illustration of the axiom, perhaps)--"_the best dressed persons are those in whose attire nothing in particular attracts attention_." there is an indescribable air of refinement, a _je ne sais quoi_, as the french have it, at an equal remove from the over-washed look of your thorough englishman (their close-cropped hair always reminds me of the incipient stage of preparation for assuming a strait-jacket!) and the walking tailor's advertisement that perambulates fifth avenue, chestnut-street, the boston mall, and other fashionable promenades in our cis-atlantic cities, in attendance upon the locomotive milliner's show-cases, yclept "belles"--god save the mark! the essentials of a gentleman's dress, for occasions of ceremony are--a stylish, well-fitting cloth coat, of some dark color, and of unexceptionable quality; nether garments to correspond, or in warm weather, or under other suitable circumstances, white pants of a fashionable material and make; the finest and purest linen, embroidered in white, if at all; a cravat and vest, of some dark or neutral tint, according to the physiognomical peculiarities of the wearer, and the _prevailing mode_; a fresh-looking, fashionable black hat and carefully-fitted, modish boots, light-colored gloves, and a soft, thin, white handkerchief. perhaps, the most arbitrary of earthly divinities permits her subjects more license in regard to the arrangement of the hair and beard, than with respect to any other matter of the outer man. a real artist, and such every man should be, who meddles with the "human face divine" or its adjuncts, will discern at a glance the capabilities of each head submitted to his manipulation. defects will thus be lessened, or wholly concealed, and good points brought out. if you wear your beard, wear it in moderation--extremes are always vulgar! avoid all fantastic arrangements of the hair--turning it under in a huge roll, smooth as the cylinder of a steam-engine, and as little suggestive of good taste and comfort as would be the coil of a boa constrictor similarly located, parting it in miss nancy style, and twisting it into love [soap?] locks with a curling-tongs, or allowing it to straggle in long and often, seemingly, "uncombed and unkempt" masses over the coat-collar. this last outrage of good-taste is so gross a violation of what is technically called "keeping," as to excite in me extreme disgust. ill, indeed, does it accord with the trim, compact, easily-portable costume of our day, and a miserable imitation, it is of the flowing hair that, in days of yore, fell naturally and gracefully upon the broad lace collar turned down over the velvet or satin short-cloak of the cavaliers and appropriately adorning shoulders upon which, with equal fitness, drooped a long, waving plume, from the wide-brimmed, steeple-crowned, picturesque hat that completed the costume. while on this subject of _collars_, etc., let us stop to discuss for a moment the nice matter of their size and shape. just now, like the "life" of a "poor old man," they have "dwindled to the shortest span," under the pruning shears of the operatives of the mode. whether this is the result of a necessity growing with the lengthening beards that threaten wholly to ignore their existence, you must determine for yourselves, but i must enter my protest against the total extinction of this relieving line of white, so long, at least, as the broad wristband, now so appropriately accompanying the wide coat-sleeve, shall remain in vogue. the mention of this last tasteful appendage naturally brings to mind the highly ornate style of sleeve-buttons now so generally adopted. eschew, i pray you, all _flash stones_ for these or any other personal ornament. nothing is more unexceptionable for sleeve-buttons and the fastenings of the front of a shirt, than _fine gold_, fashioned in some simple form, sufficiently massive to indicate use and durability, and skillfully and handsomely wrought, if ornamented at all. few young men can consistently wear diamonds, and they are, if not positively exceptionable, in no degree requisite to the completion of the most elaborate toilette. but those who do sport them, should confine themselves to genuine stones of unmistakable water, and never let their number induce in the minds of beholders the recollection that a travelling jew--whether from hereditary distrust of the stability of circumstances, or from some other consideration of personal convenience, usually carries his entire fortune about his person! better the simplest fastenings of mother-of-pearl than such staring vulgarity of display. and so of a watch and its appendages. a _gentleman_ carries a watch for convenience, and secures it safely upon his person, wearing with it no useless ornament, paraded to the eye. it is, like his pencil and purse, good of its kind, and if he can afford it, handsome, but it is never _flashy_! the fashion of sporting _signet-rings_ is not so general, perhaps, as it was a little while since, but it still retains a place among the minutiæ of our present theme. here, again, the same general rules of good taste apply as to other ornaments. when worn at all, everything of this sort should be most unexceptionably and unmistakably tasteful and genuine. any deviation from good _ton_, in this regard, will as inevitably give a man the air of a loafer as an ill-fitting boot will, or the slightest declension from the perpendicular in his hat! in connection with my earnest advice in regard to all flash ornaments, to whatever purpose applied, i must not omit to record my protest against staring patterns in pants, cravats, vests, etc. carefully avoid all the large, many-colored plaids and stripes, of which (as _punch_ has demonstrated) it takes more than one ordinary-sized man to show the pattern; and all glaring colors as well. i have no partiality, as i believe i have intimated, for the eternal dead black which, abroad at least, belongs, by usage, primarily to the clergy; but this is a better extreme than that which has for its original type the sign-board getting-up of a horse-jockey. a fashion has of late years obtained extensively, which has always, within my remembrance, had its admirers--that of a _white suit throughout_, for very warm weather. this has the great merit of comfort, and some occupations permit its adoption without inconvenience. but even the use of thin summer cravats (which should always be of some unconspicuous color) wonderfully mitigates the sufferings incident to the dog-days, and these are admissible for dress occasions, when corresponding with the general effect of the vest and nether investments. to recur once more to the important item of body linen;--never wear a _colored_[ ] shirt--have no such article in your wardrobe. figures and stripes do not conceal impurity, nor should this be a desideratum with any decent man. the now almost obsolete german author, kotzebue--whose plays were very much admired when i was young, and whom your modern students of german should read in the original--i remember, makes one of his female characters, a sensible, observing woman, say that she detected a _gentleman_ in the disguise of a menial by observing the _fineness of his linen_! if your occupation be such as to require strong, rough-and-tumble garments, wear them, unhesitatingly, when you are at work, but have them good of their kind, and keep them clean. while your dress handkerchief should not look, either for size or quality, as if you had, for the nonce, perverted the proper use of bed-linen--in the woods, for pioneer travelling, rough riding, etc., a bandanna is more sensible, as is a cut-away coat, or something of that sort, with ample pockets, loose, strong, and warm, and a "soft" broad-brimmed, durable hat, or cap, as the case may be--not an old, fine black cloth dress-coat, surmounted by a narrow-rimmed "segment of a stove-pipe," with a satin cravat, though it be half-worn! in short, my dear boys, study fitness and propriety in all things. this is the legitimate result of a well regulated mind, the characteristic of a true gentleman--which every american should aim to be--not a thing made up of dress, perfumery, and "boos," as sir archy mcsycophant styled them; but a right-minded, self-respecting man, with excelsior for his motto, and our broad, free, glorious land "all before him, where to choose" the theatre of a useful, honorable life. matters like those i have dwelt on in this letter, are trifles, comparatively; but trifles, in the aggregate, make life, and, thus viewed, are not unworthy the subordinate attention of a man of sense. they are collateral, i admit, but they go to make up the perfect whole--to assist in the attainment of the true standard which every young man should keep steadily in view. and, insignificant as the effect of attention to such matters may appear to you, depend upon it, that habits of propriety and refinement in regard to such personal details, have more than a negative influence upon character in general. the man who preserves inviolable his self-respect, in regard to all personal habits and surroundings, is, _ceteris paribus_, far less likely to acquire a relish for low company and profligate indulgences, and to cultivate correspondent mental and moral attributes. it occurs to me that, going into detail, as i have, your attention should, in the proper connection, have been called to a little matter of dress etiquette, of which you moderns are strangely neglectful, as it appears to an old stickler for propriety like me. to have offered an ungloved hand to a lady, in the dance, would, in days when i courted the graces, have been esteemed a peccadillo, and over-punctilious as you may think me, it seems very unhandsome to me. a dress costume is no more complete without gloves than without boots, and to touch the pure glove of a lady with uncovered fingers is--impertinent! [ ] it will be understood, of course, that the necessities and the regulations of military life are here excepted. here, again, let me condemn all fancy display. a fresh white, or, what amounts at night to the same thing, pale yellow glove, is the only admissible thing for balls, other large evening parties, ceremonious dinners, and wedding receptions; but for making ordinary morning visits, or for the street, some dark, unnoticeable color is in quite as good taste and _ton_. bright-colored gloves bring the hands into too much conspicuousness for good effect, and, to my mind, give the whole man a plebeian air. i remember once being, for a long time, unable to divine what a finely-dressed young fellow, in whom i thought i recognised the son of an old college chum, could be carrying in each hand, as he walked towards me across the albany park; of similar size and color, he seemed, john gilpin like, to have ----"hung a bottle on each side to keep the balance sure!" when i could, in sailor phrase, "make him out," behold a pair of great fat hands, incased in tight-fitting gloves, closely resembling in hue the brightest orange-colored wrapping-paper! you will expect me not entirely to overlook the important topic of _over-garments_. as in all similar matters, it is the best taste not to deviate so much from the prevailing modes as to make one's self remarkable. fortunately, however, for the infinite diversity presented by the human form, a sufficient variety in this respect is offered by fashion to gratify the greatest fastidiousness. and no point of dress, perhaps, more imperatively demands discrimination, with regard to its selection. thus, a tall, slender figure, with narrow shoulders and ill-developed arms, is displayed to little advantage in the close-fitting, long-skirted overcoat that would give desirable compactness to the rotund person of our short, portly friend, alderman d., while the defects of the same form would be almost wholly concealed by one of the graceful and convenient talmas that so successfully combine beauty and comfort, and afford, to an artistically-cultivated eye, the nearest approach to an abstract standard of taste, presented by masculine attire, since the flowing short cloak of the so-called spanish costume was in vogue. here, again, one is reminded of the propriety of regarding _fitness_ in the selection of garments especially designed to promote comfort. nothing can well be more ungainly than the appearance of a man in one of the large woollen shawls that have of late obtained such general favor, at least as they are frequently worn, slouching loosely from the shoulders, and almost necessarily accompanied by a stoop, the more readily to retain them in place. they are well adapted to night travel, to exposed riding and driving (when properly secured about the chest), and are useful as wrappers when a man is dressed for the opera or a ball. but that any sensible person should encumber himself with such an appendage in _walking_--for daily street wear--is matter for surprise. they have by no means the merit for this purpose of the south american _poncho_, which is simply a large square shawl of thick woollen cloth, with an opening in the centre for passing it over the head, thus securing it in place, and giving the wearer the free use of his arms and hands, a desideratum quite overlooked in the usual arrangement, or rather _non_-arrangement of these dangling "m'cgregors." but the way, i well remember, that one of the young t----s of albany, not very many years ago, was literally mobbed in the streets of that ancient asylum of dutch predilections, upon his appearance there in a _poncho_ brought with him on his return from brazil! so much for the mutations of fashion and opinion! to sum up all, let me slightly paraphrase the laconic and invariable advice of the immortal nelson to the young middies under his command. "always obey your superior officer," said the english hero, "and hate a frenchman as you would the devil!" now then, for my "new reading:"--in dress, _always obey the dictates of fashion, regulated by good sense, and hate shabby gentility as you would the devil_! well, you young dogs, here ends the substance of my first old-fashioned letter of advice to you. i will confess that upon being convinced, as i was at the very outset, how much easier it is to think and talk than to write, i was more than half inclined to recall my promise to you all. the pen of your veteran uncle, my boys, has little of "fuss and feathers," though it may be "rough and ready." the "mill-boy of the slashes" used often to say, when we were both young men, and constantly associated in business matters as well as in friendship, "let lunettes do that, he holds the readier pen;" but times are changed since then, and you must not expect fine rhetorical flourishes, or the elegances of modern phraseology in these straight-forward effusions. i learned my english when "johnson's dictionary" was the only standard of our language, and the "spectator" regarded as affording an unexceptionable model of style. with this proviso, i dare say, we shall get on bravely, now that we are once fairly afloat; and, perhaps, some day we'll get an enterprising publisher in our quaker city to shape these effusions into a "_prent book_" for _private circulation_--a capital idea! at least for redeeming my crabbed hieroglyphics from being "damned with faint praise" by my "numerous readers," a thought by no means palatable to the sensitive mind of your old relative. i believe it was "nominated in the bond," that the subjects treated of in each of my promised letters shall be illustrated by stories, or anecdotes, drawn from what you were pleased to style "the ample stores furnished by a life of large observation and varied experience." it occurs to me, however, that as this, my first awkward essay to gratify your united wishes, has already grown to an inconceivable length, it were well to reserve for another occasion the fulfillment of the latter clause of your request, as more ample space and a less lagging pen may then second the efforts of your affectionate uncle hal. p. s.--in my next, i will include some practical directions respecting the details of costume suitable for various ceremonious occasions--the opera, dinners, weddings, etc., etc. "whew!" methinks i hear you all exclaim, "our old uncle setting himself up as "'the glass of fashion and the mould of form!' he may indeed be able to ----"'hold the mirror up to nature;' but to attempt to reflect the changeful hues of mere fashion"---- not too fast, my young friends! do not suppose me capable of such folly. but, for the benefit of such of you as are so far removed from the centre of _ton_ as to require such assistance, i have invoked the aid of a good-humored friend, thoroughly _au fait_ in such matters, the "observed of all observers" in our american belgravia, a luminary in whose rays men do gladly sun themselves. h. l. letter ii. sketches and anecdotes. my dear nephews: in accordance with the promise with which i concluded my last letter, i will give you, in this, narrated in my homely way, some anecdotes, illustrative of the opinions i have expressed upon the subject of dress. * * * * * liking, sometimes, to amuse myself by a study of the masses, in holyday attire and holyday humor,--to see the bone and sinew of our great country, the people who make our laws, and for whose good they are administered by their servants, enjoying a jubilee, and wishing also to meet some old friends who were to be there (among others, gen. wool, who, though politicians accused him of going to lay pipe for the presidency, is a right good fellow, and the very soul of old-fashioned hospitality), i went on one occasion to a little city in western new york, to attend a state fair. on the night of the _fête_ that concluded the affair, your cousins, grace and gerté, to whom you all say i can refuse nothing, however unreasonable, insisted that i should be their escort, and protested warmly against my remonstrances upon the absurdity of an old fellow like me being kept up until after midnight to watch, like a griffin guarding his treasures, while two silly girls danced with some "whiskered pandoor," or some "fierce huzzar," who would be as much puzzled to tell where he won his epaulettes as was our (militia) gen. ----, of whom, when he was presented to that sovereign, on the occasion of a court levee, louis philippe asked, "where he had served!" it would not become me to repeat half the flattering things by which their elegant _chaperon_, mrs. b. seconded the coaxing declarations of your cousins, that they would be "enough more proud to go with uncle hal than with all the half-dozen beaux together," whose services had been formally tendered and accepted for the occasion. "yes, indeed," cried gerté, "for uncle hal is a _real_ soldier!" and i believe the wheedling rogue actually pressed her velvety lips to the ugly sabre scar that helps to mar my time-worn visage. "col. lunettes is too gallant not to lay down his arms when ladies are his assailants!" said mrs. b. with one of her conquering smiles. "well, ladies," said i, "i cry you mercy-- "'was ever colonel by such sirens wooed, was ever colonel by such sirens won!'" i have no intention to inflict upon you a long description of the festivities of the evening. suffice it to say upon that point, that the "beauty and fashion," as the newspapers phrase it, not only of the empire state, but of the old dominion, and others of the fair sisterhood of our union, were brilliantly represented. when our little party entered the dancing-room, which we did at rather a late hour, for we had been listening to some good speaking in another apartment--the ladies declared that they preferred to do so, as they could dance at any time, but rarely had an opportunity of hearing distinguished men speak in public,--the "observed of all observers," among the fairer part of the assembly, and the envy, of course, of all the male candidates for admiration, was young "general ----," one of the _aids-de-camp_ of the governor of the state. in attendance upon his superior officer, who was present with the rest of his staff, our juvenile mars was in full military dress, and made up, as the ladies say, in the most elaborate and accepted style of love-locks (i have no idea what their modern name may be), whiskers and moustaches. the glow that mantled the cheeks of the triumphant boanerges could not have been deeper dyed had his "_modesty_," like that of washington, when overpowered by the first public tribute rendered to him by congress, "been equalled only by his bravery!" "he above the rest in shape and gesture, proudly eminent." but apparently, wholly unconscious of the attention of which he was the subject, was smilingly engrossed by his devotion to the changes of the dance, and to his fair partner; and the last object that attracted my eye, as we retired from the field of his glory, were the well-padded military coat, the curling moustaches and sparkling eyes of "adjutant-gen. ----!" true to my old-fashioned notions of propriety, i went the next morning to pay my respects to mrs. b., and to look after your cousins,--especially that witch gerté, whom her father had requested me to "keep an eye upon," when placing her under my care for the journey to the fair. i found the whole fair bevy assembled in the drawing-room, and in high spirits. after the usual inquiries put and answered, grace cried out, "oh! uncle hal, i must tell you! gen. ---- has been here this morning! he was wearing such a beautiful coat!--his dress last night was nothing to it!--it fairly took all our hearts by storm!" at these words, a merry twinkle, as bright and harmless as sheet lightning, darted round the circle. the master of the house entered at that moment, and before the conversation he had interrupted was fairly renewed, invited me into the adjoining dining-room to "take a mouthful of lunch." while my host and i sat at a side-table, sipping a little excellent old cognac, with just a dash of ice water in it (a bad practice, a very bad practice, by the by, my boys, which i would strenuously counsel you not to fall into; but an inveterate habit acquired by an old soldier when no one thought of it being very wrong) the lively chit-chat in the drawing-room occasionally reached my ears. "it was tissue, i am quite sure!" said miss ----. "no matter about the material--the color would have redeemed anything!" cried grace. "sea-green!" chimed in the flute notes of another of the gay junto, "what can equal the general's _verdancy_?" "what?" (here i recognized the animated voice of the lady of the mansion); "why, only his _mauvais ton_, in 'congratulating' me upon having 'so many' at my reception for governor and mrs. ----, the other evening, and his equally flattering assurance that he had not seen so 'brilliant a military turn-out in a long time'--meaning, of course, his elegant self! you are mistaken, however, laura, about his coat being of _tissue_, it was _lawn_, and had just come home from his _lawn-dress_, when he put it on. i distinctly saw the mark of the smoothing-iron on the cuff, as well as that his wristband was soiled considerably." "he had only had time to 'change' his coat since he went 'home with the girls in the morning,'" chimed in some one, "and his hair, i noticed as he rose to make what he called his '_farewell bow of exit_,' was filled with the dust of that dirty ball-room." "which couldn't be brushed out without taking out the curl, too, i suppose!" this last sally emanated i believe, from one of the most amiable, usually, of the group. "well," said the hostess, with a half-sigh of relief, "he seldom inflicts himself upon me! his grand _entrée_ this morning, in the character of a katy-did, gotten up _à la mode naturelle_," (here there was a general clapping of hands, accompanied by _bravos_ that would have rejoiced the heart of a prima donna), "was, no doubt, occasioned by his having heard some one say that, what vulgar people style a '_party call_,' was incumbent upon him after my reception. what a pity his informant had not also enlightened him on another point of _ettiquetty_, as old mr. smith calls it, and so spared me the mortification, my dears, of presenting to you, as a specimen of the beaux of ----, and one of the aids-de-camp of governor ----, a man making a visit of ceremony in a _bright, pea-green, thin muslin shooting-jacket_!" * * * * * bulwer, the novelist, when i was last in london, some two or three years ago--and for aught i know he still continues the practice--used to appear in his seat in the english house of commons one day in light-colored hair, eye-brows and whiskers, with an entire suit to correspond; and the next, perhaps, in black hair, etc., accompanied by a black coat, neckcloth, and so on throughout the catalogue. a proof of the admitted _eccentricities of genius_, i suppose. * * * * * d----, who is now a very respectable veteran lawyer, and well known in the courts of the empire state, was originally a green mountain boy--tall, a trifle ungainly, with a laugh that might have shaken his native hills, rather unmanageable hair, each individual member of the fraternity, instead of regarding the true democratic principle, often choosing to keep "independence" on its own account, and a walk that required the whole breadth of an ordinary side-walk to bring out all its claims to admiration. though d---- did not sacrifice to the graces, he really wrote very clever "lines;" but his shrewd native sense taught him that a reputation as a magazine poet would not have a direct tendency to increase the number of his clients. so the sometime devotee of the muse of poetry, bravely eschewing the open use of a talent that, together with his ever-ready good-humor and quiet yankee drollery, had brought him somewhat into favor in society, despite his natural disadvantages, entered into partnership with an old practitioner in a----, and bent himself to his career with sturdy energy of purpose. "new year" coming round again in the good old dutch city where d---- had pitched his tent, some of his friends offered to take him with them in their round of calls, and introduce him to such of their fair friends as it was desirable to know; hinting, at the same time, that this would afford a suitable occasion for donning a suit of new and fashionable garments. on the first of january, therefore, agreeable to appointment, his broad, pock-marked face--luminous as a colored lantern outside an oyster-saloon--and his gait more than usually _diffusive_, d---- was seen coming along from his lodgings, to meet his companions for the day's expedition, and evidently with sails full set. it soon became apparent to all beholders, not only that the grub had been transformed into a full-fledged butterfly of fashion, but--that he wore his long, wide, ample-caped, new cloak _wrong side out_! * * * * * at the recent peace convention in paris, even those strenuous adherents to _things as they were_, the turks, wore the usual dress of europeans and americans throughout, with the single exception of the _fez_, which, i believe, no adherent of mahomet will renounce, except with his religion. young charles p---- told me that count orloff's sable-lined _talma_ was of the most unexceptionable parisian cut. * * * * * an agreeable young friend of mine, the rev. mr. h., contrives to support a family (heaven only knows how!) upon the few hundred dollars a year that make the usual salary of a country clergyman. he indulges himself, at rare intervals, in a visit to his fashionable city relatives, by way of necessary relaxation, and to brush up a little in matters of taste, literature, etc. perhaps, too, he thinks it well, occasionally, to return, with his wife and children, the long visits made every summer by a pretty fair representation of his numerous family circle at the pleasant little rectory, where refinement, industry, and the ingenuity of a practical housekeeper, create a charm often lacking in more pretentious establishments. on one of these important occasions, it was decided that the handsome young rector should avail himself of his city jaunt to purchase a new suit of clothes, his best clerical coat, notwithstanding the most careful use and the neatest repairing, being no longer presentable for ceremonious purposes. (i make no doubt that the compatibility of the contemplated journey and the new clothes, both in the same year, was anxiously discussed in family council.) as soon as possible after his arrival in town, my clerical friend broached the all-important subject of the tailor, to one of his brothers, a youth of unquestionable authority in such matters, and invoked his assistance. "with all my heart, will, we'll drop in at my own place, as we go down this morning; they get everything up there artistically." "and at artistic prices, i fear," soliloquized the new candidate for the honors of the cloth, with a slight quaking at heart, as a long-cherished plan for adding, without her previous knowledge, a shawl to the waning bridal outfit of his self-sacrificing wife, rose before his mental vision. "but, i say, will," inquired his modish brother, of our young clergyman, in a tone of good-humored banter, as they sauntered down broadway together, after breakfast, "where did you buy your new _chapeau_?" "at a----, before leaving home"---- "excuse me, my dear fellow, but it's a nondescript! it will never do with your new suit, allow me to say, frankly." "but the person of whom i bought it had just returned from new york, and he assured me it was the latest fashion! i gave him eight dollars for it, at any rate." "preposterous!" ejaculated the man of fashion, in a tone portentous as that which ushered in the "prodigious" of dominie sampson, when astounded by _his_ discoveries in the mysteries of the toilet. "it first saw the light in the 'rural districts,' depend on't!" the quizzical glances with which his companion ever and anon scrutinized the crowning glory of his neat morning attire, as he had previously thought it, gradually overpowered the philosophy of my friend,--clergyman though he was--the admitted adonis of his class in college, and the favorite of ladies, old and young. the church's ----"favorites are _but men_. and who e'er felt the stoic when first conscious of"---- wearing a "shocking bad hat!" the result was, that the condemned article was exchanged at a fashionable establishment for one fully meeting the approbation of the modish critic. "what! another new hat?" cried the young wife, whose quick woman's eye at once caught the _je ne sais quoi_--the air of the thing, as her husband rejoined her later in the day. the gentleman explained;--"and you thought the other so becoming too, belle," he added, in a half-deprecatory tone; "but chauncey was so strenuous about it, and i knew he would appeal to you, and that you would not be satisfied without"---- "but they allowed you really nothing for the other, though it was quite new, and certainly a nice hat. what a pity, now, that you did not travel in your old one, though it was a little worse for wear, or even in the cap you bought to fish in. there was mr. ---- in the same car with us, looking anything but _elegant_, i am sure, with the queerest-looking old 'kossuth,' i believe they are called, on, and the roughest overcoat!" "but, you know, belle, dear, such a dress is not considered admissible for the clergy." "no! well, whatever is sensible and convenient _should_ be, i am convinced now, if i was not before." our young clergyman, as he turned the still-cherished plan of the new shawl anxiously in his mind, a "sadder and a wiser" man than before, determined never again to buy a new dress hat expressly to perform a journey in, especially when going directly from the "rural districts" to a large city; besides laying up for future use some other collateral resolutions and reflections of an equally wise and practical character. "why, belle," said the "superb" chauncey to his fair sister-in-law, drawing her little son nearer to him, as he leaned on his mother's lap after dinner, "this is really a magnificent boy, 'pon-my-word!--you should take him to 'bradbrook's' and fit him up! would you like a velvet jacket, eh, my fine fellow?" the curly-headed child pointed his dimpled forefinger towards the pretty garment he was wearing, and said, timidly, "pretty new coata, mamma made for him." "i believe," responded the young mother, quietly, bending her beaming eyes upon the little face lovingly upturned to hers, "that willie will have to do without a velvet jacket for the present; mamma intended to get one for him in new york, but"----the sentence was finished mentally with "papa's second new hat has taken the money." this will reveal the secretly-cherished plan of the young rector's wife, with which a faint sketch of a pretty cap to crown the shining curls of her darling, had dimly mingled, almost unconsciously to herself, until brought out by the power of that "tide in the affairs of men"--necessity! * * * * * sitting in the same seat in a railroad car with ex-chief-justice ----, than whom there is no more eminent jurist nor finished gentleman in the land, discoursing earnestly of old times and new, our conversation was suddenly interrupted, as we stopped to feed our iron steed, by the loud salutation of a youth who seemed to take more pains than the _law_ requires under such circumstances, to enunciate the name of my companion. "pleasant morning, judge!--if i don't intrude" (a glance at me, and no introduction by the chief-justice), "is this seat unoccupied?" and down he sat _vis-à-vis_ to us. he had the talk pretty much to himself, for a while. by-and-by, our uninvited guest apologized for his gloves, half-worn fine black kid. they were "really too bad; must have taken them up by mistake, in the hurry of getting off," etc. "i always keep an old pair expressly for these abominably dirty cars, but, i believe, i have forgotten to put them on this morning," said the venerable lawyer, in a peculiarly quiet tone, unfolding, as he spoke, the ample, old-fashioned, travel-worn camlet cloak, beneath which his arms had hitherto been crossed, and thus revealing his neat, simple dress, and the warm, clean lining of his outer garment. taking a well-worn pair of soft beaver gloves from an inside pocket, the judge, with an air of peculiar deliberation, drew them upon hands, "small to a fault," as the novels say, and as white as those myths are supposed to be, and re-adjusted his arms and cloak with the same deliberation. a nice observer might note a slight gleam of the well-known smile, whose expressive sarcasm had so often withstood professional insolence and ignorance, as the chief justice turned his head, and cursorily surveyed his fellow-passengers. "who is that young man, sir?" i inquired, when we were, soon after, upon again stopping, relieved of the presence of this jackanapes. "his name is ----," replied the judge. "a scion of the law, i think now--a son of the ----, who made a fortune, you may remember, by the sudden rise of west india molasses, some few years ago (a pause). i never rate a man by his antecedents, colonel, but a little modesty is always suitable and becoming, in _very young persons_," added the chief-justice, somewhat sententiously. * * * * * you will, perhaps, remember the commotion created by the promulgation of marcy's edict respecting the dress to be worn on state occasions, by our representatives abroad. our accomplished young countryman, mr. h. s----, though nominally secretary of legation, was virtually our minister, at st. cloud, when this order was published. in simple compliance with his instructions, the american secretary appeared at a court dinner in the suit of plain black, prescribed by his government. the premonitions of a revolution could scarcely have created more consternation among the officials of the tuileries, and even the diplomatic dignitaries assembled, experienced a sensation. the turkish ambassador was surprised out of the usually imperturbable stoicism of a devout follower of the mighty prophet of moslemdom. "what are you doing here," he growled, as the young republican arrested his attention, in language more remarkable for oriental figurativeness than for parisian elegance, "a raven among so many birds of gay plumage?" the newspaper writers of the day, commenting upon this, said that the minister from venezuela--the most insignificant government represented, was most bedizened with gold lace, stars, and trumpery of every sort. these letters, prepared for home perusal, were re-published in the paris papers, and of course, met the eyes of all the parties alluded to! s---- told one of my friends that among the annoyances to which the whole affair subjected him, was that of being subsequently constantly thrown in contact with the various personages with whose names his own had been, without his previous knowledge, unceremoniously, associated. no doubt, however, his skillful diplomacy carried him as triumphantly through this difficulty as through others of vital importance. dining with this polished young diplomate, at the tremont in boston, where we met soon after his return home, the conversation turned upon the personal appearance of louis napoleon, and from his wire-drawn moustaches diverged to the subject of beards in general. "the truth is, col. lunettes," said mr. s----, in french,--which by the way, he both speaks and writes, _as he does his native tongue_, with great purity and propriety, and this to our shame be it said, is far enough from being generally the case with our various officials abroad, "the truth is, col. lunettes, (i detected a just perceptible glance at my furrowed cheek, which was, however, smooth-shaven as his own) that _a clean face is getting to be the distinctive mark of a gentleman_!" * * * * * "my dear miss ----," said i to a charming woman, whose cordial smile of recognition drew me within the magic circle of her influence, at a ball, where i had been for some little time a 'quiet looker-on,' "will you pardon the temerity of an old friend in inquiring what induced your chilling reception of the handsome stranger whom i saw presented to you with such _empressement_ by our host a little while ago? if you could have seen the admiration with which he long regarded you at a distance, 'his eye in a fine frenzy rolling,'--as he leaned against the--the corner of the big fiddle, there, while the music was at supper!--could you have seen this, as others saw it, and then the look of deep desperation with which he swallowed a bottle of champagne at a standing, when he fled from your frowns to the supper-room!--really, miss ----, i have seldom had my sympathies so excited for a stranger"-- by this time her ringing laugh stirred the blood into quicker pulsations through my time-steeled heart; "oh, colonel, colonel!" cried she, in tones, mirth-engendering as the silvery call of dian, goddess of the dewy morn, (is that poetry, i wonder?) "i see you are just as delightfully quizzical as during our alpine journey together. i have never quite forgiven the fates for robbing our party of so inimitable a _compagnon de voyage_, and me of"--"so devout an admirer!" i chimed in: "and me of so devout an admirer," proceeded the lady, with a quick spirit-flash in her deep violet eyes, "and when we were just becoming so well acquainted, too! it was too provoking! do you remember the amusement we had from recalling the various characteristic exclamations of the different members of our party, when the italian plains burst upon our view, out-spread before us in the morning sunlight, after that horrid night in the shepherd's hut?" "if i recollect, it was your avowed slave, 'gentleman john' as you called him, who shouted, 'o, ye gods and little fishes!--nothing bad about that, by thunder?' that fellow carried the ladies, as he did everything else, by storm"-- "no, no, colonel, not _all_ the ladies; but i was going to tell you about this 'mysterious stranger,' or 'romantic stranger'--what _sobriquet_ did you give him? suppose we go nearer the door, it is so warm here," and she twined an arm that threw powers into a rapture,[ ] confidingly around the support proffered her by an old soldier, and we gradually escaped from the crowd (any one of the men would willingly have stillettoed me, i dare say!) into a cool corner of the hall. [ ] remind me to tell you about that some other time. "i am sorry you thought me rude, colonel," she began, a tint, soft as the shadow of a crimson rose flitting over her expressive face. i entered a protest. "i dare say my manner was peculiar," resumed my fair companion, "but i fear 'no rule of courtly grace to measured mood' will ever 'train' my _face_; and--the truth is, colonel, that, though i love and honor my own countrymen beyond the men of all other lands, i _do_ wish they would imitate well-bred foreigners in some respects. i hate coxcombs! i believe every woman does at heart. now, here is this person, colonel c----, i think, if i heard the name?" "wherefore _colonel_, and of what?" thought i, but i only answered--"really, i am not able to say." "well, at any rate, i identified the man, beyond a peradventure, as the same individual who sufficed for my entertainment during a little journey from home to g----, the other day. as papa, in his stately way, you know, committed me to the care of the conductor, saying that 'miss ----'s friends would receive her at g----,' i observed (luckily, my fastidious father _did not_) the broad stare with which a great bearded creature, at a little distance from us, turned round in his seat and surveyed us. when i withdrew from the window, from which i had looked to receive--to say good-bye, again, to papa"-- i would have given--i think i would have given--my lundy-lane sword, to have occasioned the momentary quiver in that musical voice, and the love-light in that half-averted eye! after a scarce perceptible pause, the lovely narrator proceeded: "there was that huge moon-struck face--["_sun-struck_, perhaps?" i queried, receiving a slight fan-pass for my pains]--such a contrast to papa's! staring straight at me, still. i busied myself with a book behind my veil, and presently knew, without looking, that the _gentleman_ had gradually returned to his former position. now came my turn to scrutinize, though the 'game was scarcely worth the powder.'" "spoken like the true daughter of a gentleman-sportsman!" i exclaimed, and this time was rewarded with an irradiating smile. "well, such a rolling about of that alderman-like figure, such a buttoning and unbuttoning! but this was all nothing to his steam-engine industry in the use of the 'weed.' i turned sick as i observed part of the shawl of a lady sitting before the creature hanging over near him. after a while, he sallied forth, at one of the stopping-places, and soon returned with--(expressive hue!)--_an immense green apple_! it seemed for a time likely to prove the apple of discord, judging from the hungry glances cast at it by a long, lank, thinly-clad old man across the car. but now came the 'tug of war.' it scarce required my woman's wit to divine the motive that had prompted the tasteful selection of the alderman's lunch. a glove was pompously drawn off, and--behold! a great _pâté_ of a ring on the smallest, i cannot truthfully say _little_-finger, set with a huge red cornelian, that looked for all the world like a cranberry-jam in a setting of puff-paste! as the big apple slowly diminished under the greedy eyes of the venerable spectator of this rich tantalus-feast, my heart melted with pity." a well-affected look of surprise on the part of her auditor, here claimed the attention of the fair speaker. "don't alarm yourself, colonel! 'pity 'tis, 'tis true,' my compassion was excited _only_ towards the poor finger that, stout as it looked, must soon be worn to the bone, if often compelled to do duty at the speed with which it was worked that day. imagine the poor thing stuck straight out with that heavy stone _pâté_ upon it, while the proprietor plied his hand from his mouth to the car-window _behind_ him, with the industrious regularity of a steam ferry-boat, professedly laden with little bits of apple-skin, but really intended--oh, most flattering tribute to my discriminating powers!--_to captivate my fancy, through my eye_!" when my amusement had somewhat subsided, i said to my fair friend: "i suppose the doughty alderman finished his repast, like jack the giant-killer, by eating up the famishing old man who had the insolence to watch him while breakfasting?" "i am happy to be able to say," replied she, "that the long, lean, lanky representative of our fallen race, not only escaped being thoroughly masticated and thrown by little handfuls out of the car-window, but when jack the giant-killer, and almost every one else had gone out of the car, was presented by a lady with two nice large sandwiches that she happened not to need." "and that benevolent lady was"---- a movement among the dancers here crowded several acquaintances into such close contact with us that we could not avoid overhearing their conversation. "do you know that large man, wearing so much beard, mr. jerome?" "know him? certainly i do, miss blakeman. that's c----, col. c----, the rich new york grocer. he is one of the city aldermen--they talk of him for the legislature--quite a character, i assure you." "he evidently thinks so himself," rejoined one of the group; "just notice him in that polka! i heard him telling a lady, a moment ago, that he had not missed a single set, and wouldn't for anything." "they say," pursued a lady, "that he is paying his addresses to that pretty little miss s----, who was so much admired here, last winter; she is an orphan, i think, and quite an heiress." a perceptible shiver ran through the clinging arm that still graced my own, and as i moved away with my sweet charge, she murmured, in the musical tongue of the beautiful land, as she ever calls italy, "the gentle dove for the vulture's mate!" * * * * * will that do for this time, boys? or do you require that, in imitation of the little grecian hunch-back, a _moral_ shall be appended to each of his narratives, by your uncle hal. p. s.--in accordance with my promise, there follow the admirable directions and remarks of the elegant and obliging friend referred to in my previous letter. he will, i trust, permit me thus to tender him, renewedly, my very grateful acknowledgment of his flattering politeness, and to express my sense of the important addition made by his kindness to my unpretending epistles. * * * * * "my dear col. lunettes: "i regard myself as highly complimented that so distinguished a representative of the _ancien régime_, as yourself, one so entirely _comme il faut_, as all admit, in matters of taste, should esteem my opinion, even in regard to minor points of etiquette, as worth his attention. "i need scarcely add, dear sir, an assurance of my conviction of the honor you do me by affording me a place in your remembrance, and that i make no doubt your profound knowledge of the world, united with your unusual opportunities for extensive observation--long _un habitué de belle société_, in various countries, as you have been--will afford a rich treat, as well as much instruction, to those who may be favored with the perusal of your proposed _letters_. that he may have the honor to be thus fortunate, is the hope of, dear sir, "your very respectful "and obedient servant, "---- ---- "belgravia, _tuesday morn., "may th, ' _." gentlemen's dress.--the subject now to be treated of, may be divided into several classes:--_morning, promenade_ or _visiting_, and _evening_ or _ball_ dress; which again may be subdivided into others, such as _riding-dress_, dress suitable for _bachelors' dinner-parties_, or _opera_ (when unaccompanied by ladies). besides these again, we have dresses suitable for _fishing_, _shooting_, and _yachting_ purposes, which, however, scarcely call for, or admit of, the display of much taste, inasmuch as the occupations for which such costumes are designed partake rather of the nature of healthy exercise than of that quiet and gentlemanly repose necessary to give full effect to the graces of the more elaborate "_toilette_." military, naval, and court dresses may also be considered out of the scope of the remarks in this letter, because their being made scrupulously in accordance with rigid _regulation rules_, leaves no room for taste, but substitutes the _dicta_ of official routine. to commence our exemplifications with a _wedding-suit_, which, from the wearer's approximate connection with the ladies deserves the "_pas_"--it may be remarked that the time of day in which the ceremony is solemnized should determine the character of the costume, that is to say, whether it should be morning or evening. in either case, however, general usage allows (not to say demands), a more marked style than is generally worn in morning or evening usual wear. should the wedding take place in the _evening_, a very elegant costume is, a dark claret dress-coat, white ribbed-silk, or _moire antique_, waistcoat, white silk neckcloth, black trowsers, silk stockings, and shoes. the lining of the sleeves, also, of white silk, coming to the extreme edge of the cuff, imparts a singularly light and elegant appearance to the hand and glove. an equally elegant _morning wedding-dress_ might consist of a rich, deep-brown frock-coat; waistcoat of black cashmere, with a small violet-colored palm-leaf figure; neck-tie of silk, combining colors of black and cherry, or brown and deep blue; trowsers of delicate drab, or stone-color; gloves primrose, or slate-colored kid. the usual _evening-dress_ is so imperiously insisted on, that it might be almost classed in the category of _uniforms_, being almost invariably composed of _black_ coat, vest, and trowsers. two items, however, in this costume, admit of disquisition amongst "men who dress," viz., the _vest_ and the _tie_--both of which may be either white or black, without any infraction of the laws of _bienseance_. this, therefore, must be settled by the taste of the wearer, who should remember that black, having the effect of apparently diminishing a man's size, and white that of increasing it, it would, therefore, be judicious for a person of unusual size to tone down his extra bulk by favoring black in both these garments, while he who is below the average standard could, if not actually increase his height or size, at least create the impression of more generous proportions. i, however, must confess a decided partiality for a _white neck-tie_, at least; because, although subject to the disadvantage of being _de rigueur_ amongst waiters and other members of the yellow plush family, it is, nevertheless, always considered unexceptionable, at any season, or hour, in any rank, profession, or capacity. a _morning call_ should be made in a _frock-coat_, or at least one in which this style predominates. it must, however, be constantly borne in mind that it is quite impossible to furnish even general rules on any one of these points that shall prove immutable, since not only each successive year, but every varying season produces decided changes in the standard established by taste and fashion. _bachelors' dinner-parties_ are pleasant, social _reunions_, at which gentlemen enjoy themselves with more _abandon_ than would, perhaps, be considered consistent with the quiet and more retired respect due to the presence of the "_beau sexe_;" and, as a natural consequence, admit of a more _négligé_ style of costume. still, however, a certain regard must be had to the requirements of good society; and as many of these parties, when they break up, adjourn to the opera, or theatre, where they are pretty sure to meet ladies of their acquaintance, a costume half-way between morning and evening is, by tacit agreement, prescribed; for instance:--a coat of some dark color (generally termed "_medley-colored_"), cut rounded over the hips; black cap; inner vest, buttoning rather high in the breast; dark-grey trowsers, and black silk neckerchief, or ribbed silk scarf. instead of giving sketches of particular costumes, it would, perhaps, be better and tend more to develop the importance of dress, if a few remarks were made on the general rules which should guide one in selections for his own wear. the _four staple colors for men's wear, are black, blue, brown, and olive_. other colors, such as drab, grey, mixed, etc., being so far as the principal garments go, what are termed "fancy colors," should be very cautiously used. as was remarked above, _black has the effect of diminishing size_, but it has another more important effect, which is to test, in the severest way, the wearer's claims to a _distinguished appearance_. it is a very high compliment to any man to tell him that black becomes him, and it is probably owing to this property that black is chosen, _par excellence_, for _evening_ or _ball dress_. men, therefore, of average or ordinary pretensions to stylish contour, should bear this in mind, and, when such color is not indispensable, should be careful how far they depend on their own intrinsic dignity. _blue_, of almost any shade, becomes a light complexion, besides being an admirable set-off to black velvet, which can, in almost all cases, be judiciously used in the collar, in which case, a _lighter shade of blue_ (also becoming such a complexion) can be worn without _killing_ (as it is technically termed), the darker shade of the coat--the velvet harmonizing both. _brown_ being what is termed a _warm_ color, is eminently adapted for fall and winter wear--_olive_ and _dark green_, for summer. when beau brummel was asked what constituted a well-dressed man, he replied, "_good linen--plenty of it, and country washing_." this, perhaps, is rather _too_ primitive. the almost equally short opinion of the french critic is decidedly more comprehensive--"_un homme bien coiffé, et bien chaussé, peut se présenter partout_." under any circumstances, however, it may be laid down as immutable, that the _extremities_ are most important parts, when considered as objects for dress, and that _a well appointed hat, faultlessly-fitting gloves, and immaculate boots_, are three essentials to a well-dressed man, without which the otherwise best constituted dress will appear unfinished. besides the necessity for the greatest care required in the selection of colors, with regard to their harmonizing with each other, and their general adaptation to the complexion or contour of the wearer, there is another matter of the first importance, and this is, the _cut_. of course, everything should be sacrificed to _perfect ease_, as any garment which pinches, or incommodes the wearer, will strongly militate against the easy deportment of even the most graceful, and tend to give a contracted and constrained appearance. _every garment, therefore, should leave the wearer perfectly free and uncontrolled in every motion_; and, having set out with this proviso, the _artiste_ may proceed to invest his work with all the minute and seemingly immaterial graces and touches, which, although scarcely to be remarked, still impart _an air_ or _character_, which is unmistakable, and is expressed in the french word _chique_. _wadding_, or _stuffing_, should be avoided as much as possible. a little may be judiciously used to round off the more salient points of an angular figure, but when it is used for the purpose of creating an egregiously false impression of superior form, it is simply _snobbish_. some one has called hypocrisy "the homage which vice pays to virtue." _wadding is the homage which snobbishness pays to symmetry!_ a well-dressed man will never be the first to set a new fashion; he will allow others to hazard the innovation, and decline the questionable honor of being the first to advertise a _novelty_. two lines of pope (i believe), admirably illustrate the middle course:-- _"be not the first by whom the new is tried, nor yet the last by whom 'tis set aside."_ besides which he will find it far easier to become a _critic_ than an _author_; and as there is sure to be a vast number of men who "greatly daring" dress, he will merely be at the trouble of discriminating which is worthy of selection or rejection; he will thus verify the old saw, that "fools make feasts and wise men eat thereof," and avoid, by means of his own knowledge of _the becoming_, the solecisms which are pretty certain to occur in a number of experiments. trinculo. letter iii. manner. my dear nephews: in the order of sequence adopted at the commencement of our correspondence, the subject of _manner_ comes next in succession. it was the shrewd aphorism of one of the most profound observers of human nature that "_manner is something to all, and everything to some_." as indicative of character, which it undoubtedly is, to a certain extent, it is well worthy the attention of all youthful aspirants to the honors of the world. and though, like every other attribute, it should bear indubitable murks of individuality, care and attention, before habit has rendered change and improvement difficult, will enable every man to acquire that propriety and polish, in this respect, the advantages of which through life can scarcely be overrated. it has been somewhat paradoxically said, that the fashionable manner of the present day is _no manner at all_! which means simply--that the manners of the best bred people are those that are least obtruded upon the notice of others,--those most _quiet, natural, and unassuming_. there is, however, a possibility of carrying this modish manner to such an extreme as to make it the very height of affectation. if talleyrand's favorite axiom admits of some qualification, and _language_ is not _always_ used to "conceal our ideas," then should _manner_, which is the natural adjunct that lends additional expressiveness to words, be in a degree modified by circumstances--be _individualized_. every approach to a rude, noisy, boisterous, manner, is reprehensible, for the obvious reason that it interferes with the comfort, and, consequently, with the rights of others; but this is at a wide remove from the ultra-modishness that requires the total suppression of every manifestation of natural emotion, and apparently, aims to convert beings influenced by the motives, feelings, and principles that constitute humanity, into mere moving automata! in this, as in too many similar matters, americans are prone to excess. because _scenes_ are considered bad _ton_, in good society abroad, and because the warm-hearted hospitality of olden time sometimes took shape a little more impressingly and noisily than kindness required, some of our fashionable imitators of european models move through the world like resuscitated ghosts, and violate every law of good feeling in an endeavor to sustain at home a character for modish _nonchalance_! now, take it as a rule through life, my young friends, that _all servile imitation degenerates into caricature_, and let your adoption and illustration of every part of your system of life be modified by circumstances, and regulated by good sense and manly independence. i need scarcely tell you that true politeness is not so much a thing of forms and ceremonies, as of right feelings and nicety of perception. the golden rule habitually illustrated in word and action, would produce the most unexceptionable good breeding--politeness so cosmopolitan that it would be a passport to "good society" everywhere. one of the most polished and celebrated of american authors has given us as fine and laconic a definition of politeness as i remember to have met with--"self-respect, and a delicate regard for the rights and feelings of others." the good breeding of a true gentleman is not an appendage put off and on at the dictate of caprice, or interest, it is essentially _a part of himself_--a constituent of his being, as much as his sense of honesty or honor, and its requirements are no more forgotten or violated than those of any other essential attribute of manhood. you will all remember sir philip sidney's immortal action in presenting the cup of water to the dying soldier. this was a spontaneous result of the habitual self-possession and self-restraint that form the basis of all true good breeding. it is one of the most perfect exhibitions on record of the _moral sublime_; but it was, also, only a legitimate result of the _instinctive politeness of a christian gentleman_! manner, then, may be regarded as the expression of inherent qualities, and though it must, necessarily, and should properly, to some extent, at least, vary with the variations of character, it may readily be rendered a more correct and effective exponent of existing characteristics of mind and heart, by judicious and attentive training. while true good breeding must, from its very nature be, as i have said, in all persons and under every modification of circumstance substantially the same, the proper mode of exemplifying it, must, with equal propriety, be modified by the exercise of practical good sense and discrimination. thus, the laws of convention,--which, as i have before remarked, is but another name for the rules of politeness, established and adhered to by well-bred people, for mutual convenience--though in some respects as immutable as those of the medes and persians, will always be adapted, by persons of good sense, to the mutations of circumstance and the inviolable requisitions of that "higher law," whose vital principle is "_kindness kindly expressed_!" having now established general principles, let us turn to the consideration of practical details. there is, perhaps, no better test of good manners afforded by the intercourse of ordinary life, than that of conduct towards superiors in age or station, ("young america" seems loth to admit that he has any superiors, but we will venture to assume these premises). the general-in-chief of the revolutionary army of america is well known to have always observed the most punctilious respect towards his _mother_, in his personal intercourse with her, as well as in every other relation of life. my word for it, he never spoke of her as the "old woman;" nor could one of the youthful members of his military family have alluded, in his hearing, to a parent as the "governor," or the "old governor," without exciting the disapproving surprise of washington and his co-patriots. and yet our young republic has known no more high-bred and polished men than those of that day,--the stately and elegant hancock, even when broken by time and disease, a graceful and punctilious observer of all the ceremonious courtesies of life; the courtly carroll, whose benignant urbanity was the very impersonation of a long line of old english gentlemen; and the imposing stateliness of the commander-in-chief, ever observant of the most minute details of propriety, whether in the familiar intercourse of daily life, or while conducting the most momentous affairs of his country. but to return from this unpremeditated digression. never let youthful levity, or the example of others, betray you into forgetfulness of the claims of your parents or elders, to a certain deference. depend upon it, the preservation of a just self-respect demands this. your historical studies will have furnished you with evidence of the respect habitually rendered to superiors by those nations of antiquity most celebrated for advancement in civilization; and you will not have failed, also, to remark that nothing more surely heralded the decay of ancient empires than degeneracy in this regard. next to the reverence ever due to parents, may be ranked that which should be rendered to virtuous age, irrespective of station or other outward attributes. i should deem this instinctive with all right-minded young persons, did i not so often, in the street, at church, in social life, in public places generally, observe the manner in which elderly persons are, apparently, wholly overlooked. here, the universally-applicable _law of kindness_ claims regard. those of the pilgrims of earth, whose feet are descending the narrowing vale that leads to the dim obscure unpenetrated by mortal eyes, are easily pained by even the semblance of indifference or neglect. they are sensitively alive to every intimation that their places in the busy arena of active life are already better filled by others; that they are rather tolerated than essential. those who are most worthy of regard are least likely to be insensible to such influences. remember, then, that you should never run the race of life so "fast" as to encroach upon the established claims of your predecessors in the course. nor would the most prematurely sage young man be entirely unbenefited, it may be, by availing himself occasionally of the accumulated experience, erudition, and knowledge of the world, possessed by many a quiet "old fogy," whose unassuming manners, modest self-respect, and pure integrity present a just model to "young america," albeit, perchance, too old-fashioned to be deemed worthy of attention! while the general proposition--that manner is, to a considerable extent _character in action_, is undoubtedly correct, we occasionally see the exact converse painfully exemplified. it sometimes occurs that the most amiable persons labor through life under the disadvantage of a diffident or awkward manner, which does great injustice to their intrinsic excellences. and this is but another evidence of the necessity of the earliest attention to this subject. though no one should be discouraged in an endeavor to remedy the defects arising from neglect, in this respect (and, indeed, it may properly be considered as affording room for ceaseless advancement, like every other portion of the earthly education of immortal beings), few persons, perhaps, ever completely overcome the difficulties arising from inattention to this important branch of education, while youthful pliancy renders the formation of habits comparatively easy. the early acquisition of habits of self-possession and self-control, will furnish the surest basis for the formation of correct manners. with this should be united, as far as is practicable, constant association with well-educated and well-bred persons, there is no friction like this to produce external polish, nor can the most elaborate rules furnish an effectual substitute for the ease that practice alone secures. lose no opportunity, therefore, for studiously observing the best _living models_, not for the purpose of attempting an undiscriminating imitation of even the most perfect, but, as an original and gifted artist derives advantage from studying works of genius, by the great masters of art, to avail yourself of the matured knowledge resulting from experience. * * * * * but now for an exemplary anecdote or two:-- "colonel lunettes, do you know some gentleman going to u---- in this train?" inquired my friend ex-governor t----, extending his hand to me in the car-house of one of our western cities. "i wish to place a very pretty young lady under the care of some suitable person for a short time, until she joins a party of friends." "really, my dear sir, i regret that i have just arrived," returned i; "you tempt me to turn about and go over the ground again." "uncle t----, there is h---- b---- just getting out of that car," cried a young lady, approaching us, with two or three fair companions, "perhaps he is going on." at this moment a young man, in a dress that might have been that of the roughest back-woodsman, approached the group. he wore a very broad-brimmed, coarse straw hat, capable of serving the double purpose of umbrella and _chapeau_, his hands were incased in strong gauntlet-gloves, and he carried a large engineer's field-book under one arm. removing his hat, as he somewhat hesitatingly advanced, and passing his hand over a beard of several days' growth, glancing downward, at the same time, upon heavy-soled boots, thickly encrusted with dry mud-- "ladies," said he, "i am too dirty to come near you; i have been surveying in the swamps in this neighborhood for several days past, camping out, and jumped upon the cars a few miles back, bound for my stationary quarters and--the _blessings of civilization_!" and, with the color deepening in his sun-burnt face, he bowed to us all, with a grace that count d'orsay could scarcely have exceeded. the youth was very cordially welcomed by his friends; little kitty, who is privileged to say anything, declared she "never saw him look so handsome;" and, i confess, that even my flinty old heart was favorably moved towards the young engineer. i admired the good taste that dictated an explanation of the soiled condition of his clothes (his thick linen shirt, however, was _clean_); not an absurd apology for not being _well-dressed_, and i liked his use of the good, significant saxon word that most truthfully described his condition. after an exchange of civilities, turning respectfully to the governor, he said: "governor t----, can i be of any service? you seemed to be looking for some one." an explanation of the circumstances resulted in the resignation of his fair charge to the temporary care of this same toil-worn, "dirty" young engineer, by my friend, who is himself one of the most fastidious and world-polished of men! a few days after this trifling adventure, i went, by invitation, to pass a day with my friend the ex-governor, at his beautiful residence a little out of the city. standing near one of the drawing-room windows, just before dinner, i observed a gentleman alighting from a carriage, at the entrance of the mansion. i was struck with his elegant air, as he kissed his hand to some one who was, like myself, an observer on the occasion. "there is h---- b----!" exclaimed the joyous voice of pretty kitty, the niece of my host, and a little scrutiny, while he was paying his compliments to the several members of the family, enabled me to recognize in this graceful stranger the rough-looking youth i had previously seen at the dépôt. but what a metamorphosis! he now wore an entirely modish dinner-dress, exquisitely tasteful in all its appointments; his coat of the most faultless fit, and boots that displayed a very small and handsome foot to admirable advantage. i afterwards noticed, too, that "camping out" in the "swamps" had not, apparently, impaired the smoothness of the slender fingers and carefully-cut nails that came under my observation while listening, in the course of the evening, to the rich voice and guitar accompaniment of mr. b----. "did mr. b---- come out in a carriage?" inquired one of the ladies of the family, in a low tone, of my host, near whom i was standing, when arrangements were to be made for the return of the guests to town. "certainly he did," answered the governor, "mr. b---- is too much of a sybarite to heat himself by walking out here to dinner, on such a day as this." "and too economical, i have no doubt, judging from his good sense in other respects," i added, "to spoil a pair of costly dress boots in such service." "mrs. m----, one moment, if you please," said a voice behind us, and mrs. m---- (who is the acting mistress of the mansion) took the arm politely proffered her, and stepped out upon the portico. presently she returned-- "uncle t----," whispered she ("excuse me, col. lunettes), john need not get up our carriage; mr. b---- has been so polite as to insist upon our sending the girls home in his, saying that he really prefers to sit outside, and that the carriage in which he drove out is to be here in a few minutes." "he happened to know that john has to be up with the lark, about another matter," remarked the host, "and"---- "how kind!" returned the lady; "but mr. b---- does everything so agreeably that one does not know which to admire most--the charm of his _manner_, or"---- "the _good breeding_, from which it springs!" exclaimed the governor, finishing the eulogy. * * * * * attending a lady from the dinner-table at the st. nicholas, in new york, she begged me to wait with her for a few minutes, near the passage conducting to the drawing-rooms, saying, playfully, that she wished to way-lay a gentleman. "i have been all the morning," she then explained, "trying to meet a russian friend of ours, who is certainly staying here, though we cannot succeed in seeing him. my husband charged me, before we parted this morning, as he was obliged to go out of town for the day, with a message for our friend, which he said _must_ be delivered by me in person. ah, there he is now!" and she advanced a step towards an elderly gentleman accompanying a lady. i released her arm from mine, of course, and retired a little; the other lady also simultaneously withdrawing. i bowed respectfully to her. "have you ever chanced to remark this picture?" inquired the fair stranger of me, as we stood thus near each other, turning towards the painting of the patron saint of the knickerbockers, which graced the main staircase of the hotel; "it is very appropriately selected." nothing could be more unmistakably refined and high-bred than the bearing of the interlocutor, while we chatted a moment or two longer. "i beg your pardon, madam, for depriving you of your cavalier; nothing but necessity could excuse it"--began the lady, who had been talking earnestly in the meanwhile with the russian, approaching us. she was at once relieved from making further explanation. "pray don't name it--and allow me to renew my slight acquaintance with you," offering her hand. "with pleasure," returned my fair friend, instantly; but she looked a little puzzled, despite her courtesy. "i see you do not recollect the weary traveller who was so much obliged to your politeness in the hotel in washington, the other night. the only stranger-lady (turning to her attendant) i have met in this country, who has rendered me the slightest civility." all this was, of course, quite unintelligible to me, but later in the evening i had the honor of being introduced to these strangers, and, incidentally, received a solution of the mystery. while a pleasant party with which i had the good fortune to be associated, was cozily gathered in one of the quiet little drawing-rooms of the st. nicholas, the conversation turned upon the difference of manners in different nations. let me premise a brief explanation, that you may the better understand what follows. the russian gentleman, whom i had seen in the passage, is dr. de h----, a distinguished _savant_, travelling in the service of his imperial master, and the lady whom he was attending from dinner a frenchwoman of high birth and breeding. my fair charge is the wife of an officer of our army, who nearly lost his life in the late mexican war, returning home covered alike with wounds and honors, and with still i don't know how many bullets in his body, as life-long tokens of his bravery. his heroic young wife, when she learned that he had landed at new orleans, as soon after the conclusion of peace as his condition enabled him to be conveyed to the sea-board and make the voyage, set out to join him at the south, with an infant of only a few weeks old, and herself in enfeebled health.--they had been married but a short time, when col. v---- was ordered to the seat of war, and the lady was a belle and a beauty, of scarce nineteen--the cherished idol of wealth and affection. these persons, and one or two others were, with myself, seated, as i have said, cozily together for a little talk, after dinner. taking advantage of the temporary absence of mrs. v----, the frenchwoman, turning to dr. de h----, said: "what a charming person! i must tell you about my first meeting with her. you know we are just returned from a little tour at the south of this country. well, at washington, the other evening we have arrived, my husband and i, with my little daughter, lorrette, very tired and covered with dust, at the hotel. a friend had engaged apartments for us, two or three days before, but we were not conducted to them. they led us into a sort of corridor, where gentlemen and ladies were walking, in dinner dress, and left us to stand against the wall for some time. at last victor told me to be patient, and he would go and see. i have thought i should fall down with fatigue and vexation, and poor little lorrette leaned against me and was almost quite asleep. at this moment, a lady and gentleman who were sitting in a little alcove, which was in the corridor, observed us, as i saw, though i tried to turn myself from all. they came immediately to us. the gentleman brought a light chair in his hand. 'madam,' said the gentleman, 'allow me to offer you a seat; i am surprised that mr. willard has no reception room for travellers.' before i could thank them, properly, the lady said, seeing how lorrette had begun to cry, 'do come and sit over there in the little recess; there is a larger chair in which the little girl can lie down until you can get your rooms. pray come'--and all this with such a sweet manner. seeing that the gentleman was already looking for another chair to bring to us, i went away with the lady; saying, however, that i was so sad to come with her in this dress, and to trouble her. when we were in the little alcove, almost by ourselves, she placed lorrette on a little couch, and forced me to sit on the only good chair, saying that she preferred to stand a little, and so many other polite, kind words! then, while the gentleman talked a little with me, she began to tell lorrette that her papa would soon take her to a nice supper, and made her look, when she was no longer so tired, at some nice drawings of colored birds that her friend was showing her when they came to carry us to them." you must picture to yourselves the animated gestures, the expressive tones, and the slight gallic accent that gave double significance to this little sketch, to form a correct idea of the pleasing effect produced upon us all by the narration. observing mrs. v---- re-entering the room, the charming frenchwoman only added, enthusiastically: "really these were persons so agreeable, that i could not forget them; as i have told you to-day, dr. de h----, it is the only stranger american lady who has ever been polite in our journey." "are the ladies of our country, then, so remiss in politeness?" said a young american lady present, in a deprecatory tone. "i beg your pardon, madam," returned the foreigner, "the americans are the most kind-hearted people in the world, but _they do not say it_! it is the--_manner_!" "i shall really begin to think," said mrs. v----, "that there is some other cause than my being a brunette for my being so often taken for a foreigner. i am often asked whether i am from new orleans, or of french extraction." "i am not surprised," exclaimed dr. de h----, "my friend sir c---- g----, who saw you this morning, asked me afterwards what country was you of?" "why, how was that?" "he told me he had just given a servant, that stupid old man in the hall, the house-porter, i believe you call him, a card, to take to some room, when you met him, and directed him to go to the office with a message; but, observing the card in his hand, and that a gentleman stood there, you immediately told him to go first with the card and you would wait for him." here the silvery laugh of mrs. v---- interrupted the russian. "excuse me," said she, "i remember it!--that old porter, who always makes a mistake, if it is possible, has so often annoyed me, that this time i was determined, as it was a person i much wished to see, not to lose my visitor through him, so, after waiting some time in one of these rooms, i went to him to inquire, and sent him to the office, when i found that my poor friend was waiting _there_, while i waited _here_. observing a gentleman who seemed already to have required his services, i bade him go first for him, of course. '_apres vous, madame, je vous prie_,'[ ] said he, with the most courtly air;--so that was sir c---- g----?" [ ] after you are served, madam, i beg. "yes, madam," answered the _savant_, "but it was _your_ air that was remarkable! sir c---- told me that while you both were waiting there you addressed some polite remark to him, _pour passer le temps_, and that he thought you were not an american lady, _because you spoke to him_!" "speaking of _not speaking_," said i, when the general amusement had abated, "reminds me of an amusing little scene that i once witnessed in the public parlor of a new england tavern, where i was compelled to wait several hours for a stage-coach. presently there entered a bustling, sprightly-looking little personage, who, after frisking about the room, apparently upon a tour of inspection, finally settled herself very comfortably in the large cushioned rocking-chair--the only one in the room--and was soon, as i had no reason to doubt, sound asleep. it was not long, however, before a noise of some one entering aroused her, and a tall, gaunt old yankee woman, hung round with countless bags, bonnet-boxes, and nondescript appendages of various sizes and kinds, presented herself to our vision. after slowly relieving herself of the numberless incumbrances that impeded her progress in life, she turned to a young man who accompanied her, and said, in a tone so peculiarly shrill, that it might have been mistaken, at this day, for a railroad whistle: "'now, jonathan, don't let no grass grow under your feet while you go for them tooth-ache drops; i am a'mos' crazy with pain!' laying a hand upon the affected spot as she spoke; 'and here,' she called out, as the door was closing upon her messenger, 'just get my box filled at the same time!' diving, with her disengaged hand, into the unknown depths of, seemingly, the most capacious of pockets, and bringing to light a shining black box, of sufficient size to hold all the jewels of a modern belle, 'i thought i brought along my snuff-bladder, but i don't know where i put it, my head is so stirred up.' "by this time the little woman in the rocking-chair was fairly aroused, and rising, she courteously offered her seat to the stranger, her accent at once betraying her claim to be ranked with the politest of nations (a bow, on my part, to the fair foreigner in the group). with a prolonged stare, the old woman coolly ensconced herself in the vacated seat, making not the slightest acknowledgment of the civility she had received. presently, she began to groan, rocking herself furiously at the same time. the former occupant of the stuffed chair, who had retired to a window, and perched herself in one of a long row of high wooden seats, hurried to the sufferer. 'i fear, madame,' said she, 'that you suffare ver' much:--vat can i do for you?' the representative of yankeedom might have been a wooden clock-case for all the response she made to this amiable inquiry, unless her rocking more furiously than ever might be construed into a reply. "the little frenchwoman, apparently wholly unable to class so anomalous a specimen of humanity, cautiously retreated. "before i was summoned away, the tooth-ache drops and the snuff together (both administered in large doses!) seemed to have gradually produced the effect of oil poured upon troubled waters. "the sprightly frenchwoman again ventured upon the theatre of action. "'you find yourself now much improved, madame?' she asked, with considerable vivacity. a very slight nod was the only answer. "'and you feel dis _fauteuil_, really ver' _com-for-ta-ble_?' pursued the little woman, with augmented energy of voice. another nod was just discernable. "no intonation of mine can do justice to the very ecstasy of impatience with which the pertinacious questioner now actually _screamed_ out: "'_bien_, madame, _vil you say so_, if you please!'" * * * * * i meant to repeat an impressive little story told us by my lovely friend, mrs. v----, before our merry little party separated that night; but, even were this letter not already too "long drawn out," i find my head in very much the condition of that of the old yankee woman, whom, i trust, i have immortalized, and will, therefore, reserve it for another time, hoping that you will pay me the compliment to recollect my description of my _dramatis personæ_ until then. * * * * * meanwhile, here is one other anecdote for you: during my usual morning ride, one day lately, i stopped to breathe my horse on the top of a little hill, in the suburbs of one of the villages upon the banks of the hudson. while enjoying the beauty of the fine landscape before me, my horse, all on a sudden, started violently. i presently discovered the cause of his fright. some little rascals were at play in the unenclosed yard of an old building near, and one of them was throwing lumps of earth, pieces of broken crockery, rusty sheet-iron, etc., upon the plank-walk in front. as i turned my head towards them, a little urchin who was perched upon a knob of the root of a tree, with his hands upon his knees, cried out, energetically: "there now, look-a there! ain't you a pretty fellow? dirtying up the walk so, when people are going by." his little freckled face expressed real concern, as he looked fixedly up the walk. glancing in the same direction, i saw an elegantly-dressed lady carefully gathering up her dress, preparatory to encountering the sharp obstacles in her path, and at once understood the cause of the reproof i had overheard, and which i assure you, i have transcribed _verbatim_, though the phrase "pretty fellow" may seem incongruous in the mouth of a dirty little irish boy. i only hope the lady--whose gentle smile indicated that she too understood the scene--was compensated for being so incommoded, by discerning the _inbred politeness_ of her little champion. * * * * * as it is your desire that i should deal rather with practical realities than with generalities or theories, let us come in my next, without preliminaries, to plain suggestions, presented somewhat in detail, with the usual simplicity and frankness of that "plain, blunt man," your affectionate uncle hal. letter iv. manner continued:--practical directions. my dear nephews: if i rightly remember, i concluded my last letter to my young correspondents with a promise of attempting in my next, some _practical directions_ in regard to manner. i will, then, commence, at once premising only in the impressive words of the immortal senator, who just at present holds so large a space in the world's eye: "in now opening this great matter, i am not insensible to the austere demands of the occasion." important as manner undoubtedly is, in every relation of life, the cultivation of an unexceptionable deportment _at home_, may, perhaps, be regarded as of primary consequence, in securing the happiness at which all aim, though by means, ----"variable as the shade, by the light, quivering aspen made." i think i have already incidentally alluded to the bad taste, to give it no severer name, so commonly exhibited by young persons in this country, in their conduct towards _parents_. let nothing tempt _you_, i pray you, into habits so discreditable. manhood is never depreciated by any true estimate, when yielding tribute to the claims of age.--towards your _father_ preserve always a deferential manner, mingled with a certain frankness, indicating that thorough confidence, that entire understanding of each other, which is the best guarantee of good sense in both, and of inestimable value to every young man, blessed with a right-minded parent. accept the advice dictated by experience with respect, receive even reproof without impatience of manner, and hasten to prove afterwards, that you cherish no resentful remembrance of what may even have seemed to you too great severity, or too manifest an assumption of authority. heed the counsel of an old man, who "through the loop-holes of retreat" looks calmly on the busy tide of life rolling forever onward, and let the sod that closes over the heart that throbs no more even with affection and anxiety for you, leave for you only the pain of parting--not the haunting demon of _remorse_. allow no false pride, no constitutional obstinacy, to interfere with the better impulses of your nature, in your intercourse with your father, or to interrupt for an hour the manly trust that should be between you. and in the inner temple of _home_, as well as when the world looks on, render him reverence due. there should be mingled with the habitual deference and attention that marks your manner to your _mother_, the indescribable tenderness and rendering back of care and watchfulness that betokens remembrance of her love in earlier days. no other woman should ever induce you to forget this truest, most disinterested friend, nor should your manner ever indicate even momentary indifference to her wishes or her affection. permit me again to refer you to the example of _our country's pride_ in this regard. you will all remember his marked attention, through life, to his only parent, and the fact that his first appearance in public, on a festive occasion, after the triumph of yorkstown, was in attendance upon his mother at the ball given at fredericksburgh, in celebration of that event. a fair friend of mine, who has written the most enthusiastically-appreciative description of this memorable scene that i remember to have read, characterizes the manner of washington as illustrating the _moral sublime_, to a degree that filled all beholders with admiration. but no one needs the examples of history, or the promptings of friendship, to convince him of a duty to which the impulses of nature unmistakably direct him: all that i, for a moment, suppose you require, is to be reminded that no thoughtlessness should permit your _manner_ to do injustice to your feelings, in this sacred relation of life. the familiarity of domestic intercourse should never degenerate into a rude disregard for the restraints imposed by refinement, nor an unfeeling indifference to the feelings of others. with brothers and sisters even, the sense of equality should be tempered by habitual self-restraint and courtesy. "no man is great to his _valet de chambre_"--no man grows, by the superior gifts of nature, or by the power of circumstance, beyond the genial familiarity of domestic intercourse. you may be older and wiser than your _brothers_, but no prerogatives of birthright, of education, or of intellect can excuse assumption, or make amends for the rupture of the natural tie that is best strengthened by affectionate consideration and respect. to his _sisters_, every man owes a peculiar obligation arising from the claim nature gives them to his protection, as well as to his love and sympathy. nor is this relative claim wholly abrogated even by their being older than he. the attributes and the admitted rights of our sex give even younger brothers the privilege,--and such every well constituted man will consider it,--of assuming towards such relations the position of a friend, confidant and guardian. and the manner of _a gentleman_ will always indicate, unmistakably, the delicacy, the consideration and the respect he considers due to them. i will not assume the possibility of your being indifferent to their love and interest; suffice it to say, that both will be best deserved and preserved by a careful admingling of the observances of politeness practised towards other women, with the playful freedom sanctioned by consanguinity. the world will give you no substitutes for the friends nature provides--they are bound to you by all ties unitedly. be ever mindful that no rude touch of yours, sunders or even weakens the tenderest chords of the heart. since ----"modest the manners by nature bestowed on nature's most exquisite child," a man's conduct towards his _wife_ should always indicate respect as well as politeness. no rude familiarity should outrage the delicacy that veils femininity, no outward indifference or neglect betoken disregard of the sacred claims of the woman, whom, next to his mother, every man is bound in honor, to distinguish beyond all others, by courteous observance. if you consider the affection you doubtless took some pains, originally, to win, worth preserving, if you think it of any moment to retain the attributes ascribed to you by the object of that affection, while you made the endeavor to do full justice to yourself in the eyes of your _mistress_,[ ] would it be wise to prefer no further claims to such characteristics by your manner to your _wife_? i have never forgotten the impression made upon me in youth by an exquisite letter in one of addison's spectators, purporting to be written by an old woman, in regard, if i remember, to the very point we are now discussing. it contains, as inclosed to the solon of polite laws in that day, a note represented to have been written to her, by the husband of the lady, from a london coffee-house, upon some emergency, which is the very embodiment of gentle courtesy, and concluding with a respectful apology for the coarse paper, and other unseemly appliances of the communication. "could you see the withered hand that indites this, dear mr. spectator," says the correspondent of addison, "you would be still more impressed by the gallantry that remains thus unimpaired by time," or words to that effect. i have not the original to transcribe from, and the copy in my _mental tablets_ is a little dimmed by the wear of years. but though the exact phraseology of the number i allude to is indistinct, i repeat that i have a thousand times recalled the substance with the same pure pleasure and admiration. i have not half done justice to it, and, indeed, i am almost ashamed to have so poorly sketched a picture whose beauty you may best appreciate by personal inspection. no tyro should attempt a copy of the production of an _old master_--especially when the mental magician fails to place the original before his mind's eye, "pictured fair, in memory's mystic glass." but if you do not despise such old-fashioned literature as the writings of the english classic authors--and certainly, without undue prejudice in their favor, i may venture, i think, to say, that a knowledge of the writings of such men as johnson, goldsmith, burke, and addison, should make part of the education of every gentleman--if you will look up this elegant essay, and read it for yourselves, i can safely promise you ample remuneration for your trouble. [ ] i shall take the liberty to use the word "_mistress_," throughout these letters, in the sense appropriated to it by addison, johnson, and other english classic authors. _sweetheart_ is too old-fashioned. "_lady-love_" suits the style of my fashionable nieces, better than mine. _mistress_ is an authorized saxon word, of well-defined meaning, though, like some others, perverted to a bad use, at times. do not degrade your own ideal by a too minute scrutiny, nor forget that the shrine of the _lares_, though it may be approached with the simplest offerings, is desecrated by even a momentary forgetfulness that its votaries should be "_content to dwell in decencies, forever!_" the chosen friend of your life, the presiding genius of your home, the mother of your children, then, not only claims the high place of trust and confidence, but _the proof afforded by manner_ of the existence and dominance of these sentiments. many men, with the kindest feelings and the clearest perceptions of duty, are, from mere inadvertency, unobservant of the fact that they habitually give pain to those dependent on them for consideration, by neglecting those _graces of manner_ that lend a charm to the most trifling actions. remember, while you are forming habits, in this respect, how sensitively constituted are the gentler sex, how easily pained, how easily pleased. the more discriminating and affectionate is woman, the more readily is she wounded. like a harp of a thousand strings, her nature, if rudely approached, is jarred responsively, while the gentlest touch elicits an harmonious thrill. the delightful _abandon_ that constitutes one of the most exquisite enjoyments of home, is not augmented, for a man of true refinement, by a total disregard of ceremony and self-restraint. selfishness, ill-humor, and a spirit of petty tyranny, rest assured, though their manifestation be confined to home intercourse, and borne in silence there, will gradually undermine character and essentially diminish domestic happiness. earnestly, therefore, do i admonish my youthful relatives to cultivate a careful observance of the requisitions of what has been well designated as "_domestic politeness_." confer favors with ready cheerfulness, or, if necessary, refuse them with an expression of regret, or a polite explanation. never repel solicitations, much less caresses, with impatience, nor allow your bearing to indicate the reluctant discharge of a duty that should also be a pleasure. a smile, an intonation of affection, a glance of appreciation or acknowledgment--small artillery all, i grant, my boys, but they will suffice to make a _feu-de-joie_ in a loving heart, that will, each and every one of them, cause you to be followed in the thorny path of daily life by a blessing that will not harm you; they will secure you a welcome, when, world-worn, you shall 'homeward plod your weary way,' worth all the gold you have gathered, and well rewarding all the toil you have encountered. i will only add, in this connection, that manhood is ennobled by the habitual exercise of delicate forbearance towards _helplessness_ and _dependence_, and that a high test of character is the right _use of power_. those, then, whom nature teaches to look to you for affection, as well as for care and protection--your mother, wife, sisters--should invariably derive from your _manner_ evidence of the steadfastness of your interest and regard for them. like most of the aphorisms of the ancients for subtle wisdom, is the saying, "we should reverence the presence of children." fresh from the creating hand of deity, they are committed to us. while yet unstained by the pollutions of the world, should we not render a certain homage to their pristine purity and innocence? should we not hesitate by exhibitions of such qualities of our nature as are happily still dormant in them, to force them into precocious development? the silent _teaching of example_ tells most effectively upon the young for the reason that they are insensibly forming in imitation of the models before them, without the disadvantages of previous habit, or of diminished impressibility. it is no light sin, then, either in our manner towards them, or towards others in their presence, to obtrude a false standard of propriety upon their notice. if manner be, as we have assumed, active manifestation of character, the ductile minds of these nice observers and ceaseless imitators must be indeed seriously under its influences. that careful study of individual peculiarities which paternal duty imperatively demands, will readily suggest the proper modification of manner demanded by each different child in a household. it is said that children are never mistaken judges of character. certain it is, at least, that they instinctively discern their true friends, and that of the "kingdom of heaven," as by divine assertion they are--the _law of love_, attempered in its administration by practical good sense, is the most effective influence that can be brought to bear upon them. permit me to recall to your remembrance the _tenderness_ that distinguished the manner of christ towards little children. pre-supposing as i have done, thus far in this letter, and as i shall continue to do, throughout our correspondence, that you regard moral obligation as the grand incentive to the correct discipline even of the outer man, arrogating to myself only the office of the lapidary,--that of endeavoring to polish, not create, the priceless jewel of _principle_, i shall make no apology for the suggestion, that manner should not be regarded as beneath the attention of a christian gentleman, in his intercourse with such inmates of his household as may from any circumstance be peculiarly sensitive to indications of negligent observance. the _aged_, the _infirm_, the _insignificant_, the _dependent_; all, in short, who are particularly afflicted "in mind, body, or estate," are suitable recipients of the most expressive courtesies of manner. perhaps no single phase of _manner at home_ more correctly illustrates nice mental and moral perceptions than the treatment of _servants_ and _inferiors_ generally. one may be just to the primary obligations evolved by this relation to others, and yet always receive the service of fear rather than of affection. all needless assumption of authority or superiority, in connection with this position, is indicative of inherent vulgarity, and is at as great a remove from a true standard as is undue familiarity. never to manifest pleasure even by a smile, never to make an acknowledgment in words, of the kindly offices that money cannot adequately reward, may be very grand and stately, but such sublime elevation above one's fellow-creatures raises the heart to rather an alpine attitude--to a height at which the _milk of human kindness_ even, may congeal! always accept voluntary service with the slight acknowledgment that suffices to indicate your consciousness of it, nor deem it unworthy of one pilgrim upon the great highway of life to cheer another upon whom the toil and burden falls heaviest, by a smile or a word of encouragement. the language of request is, as a rule, in better taste than that of command, and, in most instances, elicits more ready, as well as cheerful obedience. scott makes queen elizabeth say, on a momentous occasion, "sussex, i entreat; leicester, i command!" "but," adds the author, "the entreaty sounded like a command, and the command was uttered in a tone of entreaty." can you make only a lesson in elocution out of this; or will it also illustrate our present theme? few persons who have not had their attention called to this subject, have any just conception of the real benefits that may be conferred upon those beneath us in station by a _pleasant word uttered in a pleasant tone_. like animals and young children, uneducated persons are peculiarly susceptible to all external influences. they are easily amused, easily gratified--shall i add, easily _satisfied_, mentally? the comparatively vacant mind readily admits an impression from without; hence, he who "whistles for want of thought," will whistle more cheerily for the introduction of an agreeable remembrance, into the unfurnished "chambers of imagery," and the humble plodder who relieves us of a portion of the dead weight that oppresses humanity, will go on his way rejoicing; ofttimes for many a weary mile, impelled by a single word of encouragement from his superior officer in the "grand army" of life. but i hear you say, "uncle hal grows military--'the ruling passion strong' even in letter-writing. like the dying napoleon, his last words will be '_tête d'armée!_'"--well, well, boys! pardon an old man's diffuseness!--his twilight dullness! there are occasions when to _talk_ to servants and other employés, make part of a humane bearing towards them. to converse with them in relation to _their_ affairs rather than our own, is the wiser course, and to mingle a little appropriate instruction withal, may not be amiss. remember, too, how easily undisciplined persons are frightened by an imperious, or otherwise injudicious, manner on the part of their superiors, out of the self-possession essential to their comprehension of our wants and language. * * * * * i believe even the american author who has long concentrated his mental energies in elaborating the literary apotheosis of _napoléon le grand_, has not ascribed to his idol excessive _refinement of manner_. his attempts at playfulness always degenerated into buffoonery, and his habitual bearing towards women, in whatever relation they stood to him, was unmistakable evidence of his utter want of nicety of perception on this point. holding a reception, on one occasion, in a gallery of the tuileries for his relatives, his mother was present, with others of his family. the emperor proffered his hand to each in turn to kiss. last of all, his venerable parent approached him. as before, he proffered his hand. with an air worthy of the severe dignity of a matron of early grecian days, "madame mère" waved it aside, and, extending her own, said, "you are the king, the emperor, of all the rest, but you are _my son_!" would a man imbued with "the fair humanities of old religion" have needed such a rebuke, from such a source, think you? bonaparte was quite as stringent in his enforcement of court rules, in regard to dress and all matters of detail, as louis xiv. himself, and often quite as absurd as the "_grand monarque_" in his requisitions.--abruptly approaching a high-born lady of the old _régime_, one of the members of josephine's household, who from illness (and, perhaps, disgust commingled) had disobeyed an edict commanding _full dress_ at an early hour on a particular morning, as she leaned against a window in this same gallery of the tuileries, the first consul contemptuously kicked aside her train, at the same time addressing the wearer in an outburst of coarse vituperation. madame junot records a characteristic illustration of napoleon's unmanly disregard of the constitutional timidity of his first wife, as well as of his manner towards her in general. as they were about to cross a turbulent stream upon an insecure-looking bridge, in a carriage, the empress expressed a wish to alight. napoleon forcibly interfered, but permitted the fair narrator of the incident, who was in the carriage with them, to do so, upon her informing him with the _naïveté_ of a true french-woman, that there was a special reason for her avoiding a fright! josephine wept in helpless terror, even when the ordeal was safely passed. by-and-by, the whole _cortége_ stopped, and every one alighted; the imperial tyrant rudely seizing the empress by the arm, dragged her towards the destination of the party, in a neighboring wood, saying, as he urged her forward: "you look ugly when you cry!" one of napoleon's biographers has said of him that many passages in his letters to josephine were such as no decent englishman would address to his 'lady light o' love,' and it is well known that his earliest intercourse with the proud daughter of the house of hapsburg--the shrinking representative of the hereditary refinement of a long line of high-bred women--was marked by the merest brutality. it was left to a citizen of our republic to discover, in the year of our lord one thousand, eight hundred and fifty-five, that this man was the "_washington of france!_" and to communicate the marvellous fact to the present occupant of the imperial throne of the great captain--who is, by the way, _the grandson of the repudiated josephine_! * * * * * steaming along the ohio, some years ago, i had the good-fortune to fall in with the most agreeable companions, a father and son, kentuckians, of education and good-breeding. the father had won high public honors in his native state, and the son was just entering upon a career demanding the full exercise of his fine natural gifts. i was particularly attracted by the cordial confidence and affection these gentlemen manifested towards each other, and by the manly deference rendered by the youth to his venerable sire. a storm drove us all into the cabin, in the evening, and, while the elder of my two new friends and i pursued a quiet conversation in one part of the room, his son joined a group of young men at some distance from us. gradually the mirth of those youngsters became so roisterous as to disturb our talk. hot and hotter waged their sport, loud and louder grew their laughter, until our voices were fairly drowned, at intervals. more than once, i saw the punctilious gentleman of the old school glance towards the merry party, of which, by the way, his son was one of the least boisterous. at length he spoke, and his clear, calm voice rang like a trumpet-note through the apartment: "frederick!"--there was an instant lull in the storm, and the faces of each of the group turned to us--"make a little less noise, if you please." the youth rose immediately and advanced towards us: "gentlemen," said he, with a heightened color and a respectful bow, "i beg your pardon! i really was not aware of being so rude." i said something about the very natural buoyancy of youthful spirits; but i did _not_ say that this little scene had the effect upon me that might be produced by unexpectedly meeting, in the log-hut of a back-woodsman, with a painting by an old master, representing some fine incident of classical or chivalrous history--as, for instance, the youthful roman restoring the beautiful virgin prisoner to her friends with the words, "far be it from scipio to purchase pleasure at the expense of virtue!" my pleasure in observing the intercourse of these amiable relatives in some degree prepared me for the enjoyment in store for the favored guest, who, at the earnest instance of both father and son, a few days afterwards, turned aside in his journey to seek them, _at home_. it was a scene worthy the taste and the pen of washington irving himself, that quaint-looking old family mansion,--in the internal arrangements of which there was just enough of modern comfort and adornment to typify the softened conservatism of the host,--and the family group that welcomed the stranger, with almost patriarchal simplicity and hospitality. really it was a strange episode in busy american life. my venerable friend sat, indeed, "under the shadow of his own vine and fig-tree, with none to make him afraid," reaping the legitimate reward of an honorable, well-spent life, and beside him the friend who had kept her place through the heat and burden of the day, and now shared the serene repose of the evening of his life. what placid beauty still lingered in that matron face, what "dignity and love" marked every action! and the fair daughters of the house, who, like desdemona, "ever and anon would come again and gather up our discourse," in the intervals of household duty, or social obligation--they seemed to vie with each other and with their brother in every thoughtful and graceful observance towards their parents and towards me, and the noble boy--for he really was scarcely more, even reckoned by the estimate of this "fast" age--unspoiled by the dangerous prerogatives of an only son, manifestly regarded the bright young band of which he still made one, with the mingled tenderness and pride that would ever shield them from "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune." these all surrounded my venerable host and hostess, as they gently and calmly turned their feet towards the downward path of life, with intertwining hearts and hands--like a garland of roses enwreathing time-worn twin-trees--ever on the watch to lighten each burden they would fain have wholly assumed, and with loving care striving to put far off for them the evil day when the "grasshopper shall be a burden." but i essay a vain task when i would picture such a scene for you, my friends. if i may hope that i have made _a study_, from which you will catch a passing suggestion for future use, in the limning of your own life-portraits, it is well. * * * * * chancellor k----, who was my life-long friend, retained, even in the latest years of his lengthened life, an almost youthful sprightliness of feeling and manner. his son, himself a learned and distinguished son of the law, thought no duty more imperative, even in the prime of his manhood and in mid career in his honorable profession, than that of devotion to his father, in his declining years. he fixed his residence near, or with, his venerable parent, and, like the son of ancient priam, long sustained the failing steps of age. few things have impressed me more favorably, in my intercourse with the world, than this noble self-sacrifice. no one unacquainted with my vivacious friend can appreciate the full expressiveness of his characteristic remark to me, on an occasion when his son happened to be the theme of conversation between us. "_i like that young man amazingly!_" said the chancellor. * * * * * i still remember the impression made on me, when a boy, by meeting, in the streets of my native city, a stalwart young sailor, arrayed in holiday dress, and walking with his mother, a little, withered old woman, in a decent black dress, hanging upon his arm. how often that powerful form, the impersonation of youth, health, and physical activity, has risen up before my mind's eye, in contrast with the little, tremulous figure he supported with such watchful care, and upon which such protecting tenderness breathed from every feature of his honest, weather-embrowned face. * * * * * bob and charley grew side by side, like two fine young saplings in a wood, for some years. after awhile, however, the brothers were separated. bob went to a large city, became a merchant, grew rich, lived in a fine house, was a bank director, and an alderman. his younger brother, pursuing a more modest, but equally manly and elevated career, seldom met bob during some years, and then only briefly at their father's house, when there was a family gathering at thanksgiving, or on some other similar occasion. once, when i chanced to see these young men together, thus, i remarked that, while the sisters of each clung round the neck of the unassuming, but true-hearted, right-minded charley, at his coming, and lost no opportunity of being with him, the repellant manner of the elder brother held all more or less aloof, though none failed in polite observance towards him. egotistical and pompous, he seemed to regard those about him as belonging to an inferior race. as his brother and i sat talking together near a table upon which were refreshments, he actually had the rudeness to reach between us for a glass, without the slightest word or token of apology, with his arm so near to his brother's face as almost to touch it! there was more of shame than indignation expressed in that fine, ingenuous countenance when it again met my unobstructed gaze, and i thought i detected a slight tremor in the sentence he uttered next in the order of our conversation. before my visit that day was at an end, i found myself exceedingly embarrassed as an unwilling auditor of a political discussion between bob and his father, which grew, at length, into an angry dispute, little creditable to, at least, the younger of the two word-combatants. as i stood in the hall that night, awaiting my carriage, i saw charley advance to the door of the library, opening near, and knock lightly. the voice of his aged father bade him enter. opening the door, the young man, taking his hat quite off, and bowing almost reverentially, said only, "i bid you good night, sir," and quietly closed it again. when they turned towards me, there was almost a woman's softness in eyes that would have looked undimmed upon the fiercest foe or the deadliest peril.--think you the recording angel flew up to heaven's high chancery with a testimony of that day's deeds and words? once, after this, charley had occasion to visit the city where bob resided. breakfast over, at his hotel, he sallied forth to call on bob, at his own house, and attend, subsequently, to other matters. he was shown into an elegant drawing-room, where the master of the mansion sat reading a newspaper. without rising, he offered his hand, coldly, and before inviting his visitor to sit, took occasion to say that his wife's having an engagement to spend the day out of town would prevent his inviting his brother to dine! as charley descended the steps of his brother's stately mansion, at the termination of his brief call that day, he silently registered a vow never again to cross his threshold, unless impelled by imperative duty. and yet bob is not only a rich merchant, an alderman, and a bank director, but a _man of fashion_! * * * * * one of the most discriminating and truthful delineators of life and manners whom we boast among our native authors, prominent among the characteristic traits he ascribes to an old english gentleman, of whom he gives us an exquisite portraiture, is that of such considerate kindness towards an old servant as to make him endure his peevishness and obstinacy with good humor, and affect to consult and agree with him, until he gains an important practical point with "time-honored age." * * * * * illustrative of our subject is one of the anecdotes recorded of the poet rogers, in his recently published life: "mr. rogers," said the body-servant, who had long attended him in his helpless years, "_we_ are invited to dine with miss coutts." the italicizing is mine. is it not suggestive? you remember the rest of the anecdote; rogers had the habit, during the latter years of his life, of writing, when able to use his pen, notes to be dated and directed as occasion required, in this established form "pity me, i am engaged." so, on this occasion, the careful attendant added: "the _pity-me's_ are all gone!" * * * * * weather-bound during the long, cold winter of --, by a protracted snow-storm and a severe cold, in the house of an old friend, i left my comfortable private quarters one morning for a little walk up and down the corridor into which my own apartment and those of the family opened. by and by the active step of my hostess crossed my sauntering way. "perhaps it may amuse you to come into the nursery, a little while, colonel," said she, "it will be a novelty, at least, to you, to see behind the scenes." "i feel myself honored by the permission, i assure you; the _green-room_ always has an interest for me!" returned i; and i was soon ensconced in a large, cushioned-chair, in a cozy corner, near the open, old-fashioned "franklin" in which blazed a cheerful wood-fire. the rosy-cheeked juveniles among whom i found myself vied with each other in efforts to promote my comfort. one brought her own little chair, and placed it to support my feet; another climbed up and stuffed a soft cushion greatly larger than his own rotund, dumpling of a figure, between me and the chair-back, assuring me with a grave shake of the head, in which i saw the future esculapius, "it is so nice ven your head do ache--mamma say so, ven i put him on her always!" and bright-eyed little bessie, between whom and me a very good understanding already existed, crowned the varied hospitalities of my initiatory visit by offering me the use of her tiny muff! my hostess, though she kept an observant eye upon us, from her seat by her work-table over against my arm-chair, had too much tact to interfere with the proceedings of my ministering cherubs; except to prevent the possibility of my being annoyed. when i had leisure to reconnoitre a little, i discovered, among the other fixtures in the large, well-lighted, cheerful-looking apartment, an old woman with a good-humored face and portly person, seated near a window, sewing, with a large, well-stored basket of unmended linen and hosiery before her. presently, the eldest son, a fine manly boy of some sixteen years entered, hat and cane in hand. used, i suppose, to a jumble of faces and forms, in this human kaleidoscope, he evidently did not observe the quiet figure in the high-backed chair. "mother," he exclaimed in a tone in which boyish animation and the utmost affection were singularly united, striding across the room, like the colossus of rhodes, suddenly endued with powers of locomotion: "mother, you are the most beautiful and irresistible of your beautiful and irresistible sex!" and stooping, he pressed his full, cherry lips gently upon her rounded cheek. a flash of amusement, mingled with the love-light in the soft eyes that met those of the boy. he turned quickly. a scarcely-discernible embarrassment of manner, and a quick flush in the bright young face, were all that i had time to note, before he was at my side with a cordial greeting and a playful welcome to "mother's land of promise." "land of nod, say rather," replied the presiding genius of the scene, pointing to the quiescent form of little bessie, who--her curly head pillowed on her chubby arm--was just losing all consciousness of the world, upon the rug at her mother's feet. "george, what an armful!" said the youth, in a sort of half undertone, as he tenderly lifted the little lay figure, and bore it to a crib. "don't get up, mother, i can cover her nicely. i say, mammy [an arch glance over his shoulder towards the ancient matron of the sewing-basket], how heavy bread and milk is, though, eh!" "speaking of bread and milk, here comes lunch," continued my hero for the nonce, rubbing his hands energetically, and only desisting to give a table the dextrous twirl that would bring it near his mother, and assist the labors of the servant who had entered with a tray. "will, you immense fellow, take yourself out of the way! colonel, permit me to give your sedan-chair just the slightest impulse forward, and so save you the trouble of moving. my adorable mother, allow me the honor of being your ganymede. here we are, all right! now, let's see what there is--ham, baked apples, cold roast beef, hot cocoa--not so bad, 'pon my word. colonel, i hope this crispy morning has given you some appetite, after your hard cold--allow me"-- "mammy fust," here interposed little will, authoritatively, "'cause she older dan us!" and, carefully holding the heaped-up plate his mother placed in both hands, he deliberately adventured an overland journey to the distant object of his affectionate solicitude. at this juncture, it was discovered that the servant-man who brought up the tray, had forgotten the sugar, and a young nursery-maid was dispatched for it. upon her return she contrived, by some awkwardness in closing the door, to spill the whole result of her mission to the pantry upon the floor. her arms dropped by her sides, as if suddenly paralyzed, and i noticed a remarkable variety in the shade of her broad irish physiognomy. "there is no great harm done, biddy," said my hostess, immediately, in a peculiarly quiet, gentle voice, "just step down to john for another bowlful. while poor biddy is collecting her scattered senses on the stairs, my son, will you kindly assist willie in picking up the most noticeable lumps?--put them in this saucer, my dear. she is just learning, you know and--she would not cross that rubicon as bravely as the classic hero you were reading of last night." "while we are so literary, mother--what is it about the dolphin? if i remember rightly bid was a pretty good exemplification"---- "hush!--i am glad you thought to bring up more apples, biddy. colonel, here is the most tempting spitzenberg--so good for a cold, too. take this to mammy will you, biddy? the one i sent you before, was not so nice as these, mammy--your favorite kind, you know." amused with the new scene in which i found myself, i accepted the assurance of the fair _home mother_, as the germans have it, that i was not in the way, and lingered a little longer. by and by, john came up to tell his mistress that there was an old man at the door with a basket of little things to sell, and that he had sent a box of sealing-wax for her to look at. "poo' man! poo' man?" said little will, running up to my knee, with such a sorrowful look in his innocent face--"an' it so-o-o col'," he added, catching his mother's words, as if by instinct. "take him down the money, john," i overheard, in the intervals between the discourse of my juvenile instructor, "and this cup of chocolate--it will warm him. ask him to sit by the hall stove, while he drinks it." nothing was said about the exceedingly portly brace of sandwiches that were manufactured by the busiest of fingers, and which, through the golden veil of willie's light curls, i saw snugly tucked in, on either side of the saucer. "now, young ladies," continued my amiable friend, addressing a bevy of her rosy-cheeked young nieces, who had just before entered the room, "here is a stick of fancy-colored wax, for each of us--make your own choice. luckily there is a red stick for col. lunettes" (a half deprecatory glance at me), "the only color gentlemen use. and," as she received the box again--"there is some for mammy and me--we are in partnership, you know, mammy!" a pleased look from the centre of the wide cap-frills by the window, was the only response to this appeal; but i had repeatedly observed that, despite her industry, mammy's huge spectacles took careful cognizance of the various proceedings around her. as i was about, for very shame, to beat a retreat, a cheery--"good morning, colonel, i tapped at your door, as i came up, and thought you were napping it," arrested my intended departure. "so wifie has coaxed you in here! just like her! she thinks she can take the best care of you with"-- "with the rest of the children!" i interrupted. "my _loving spou_," as bessie says, when she recites john gilpin, "may i trouble you to tie my cravat?" and with that important article of attire in his hand, my friend knelt upon a low foot-stool, before his household divinity. "thompson," said i, "i always knew you were one of the luckiest fellows in the whole world; but may i ask--just as a point of scientific inquiry--whether that office is always performed for you, 'one fair spirit for your minister?'" "not a bit of it! no indeed, 'pon my word! only when i go to a dinner, as to-day--or to church, or--i say, will, you unmitigated rogue, how dare you! you'll spoil my cravat--don't you see mamma is just tying it!" the little fellow thus objurgated, his eyes scintillating with mirth, now fairly astride of his father's shoulders, clung tenaciously to his prize, and petitioned for a ride in his familiar seat. resorting to stratagem, where force would ill apply, the father, rising with a "thank you, dear wifie," retired backward towards a wide bed, and, by a dextrous movement, suddenly landed his youthful captor in a heap in the middle. to lose no time, the brave boy, "conquered, but not subdued," made the best use of his lungs, while reducing his arms and legs to order, and bessie, opening her beaming eyes, at this outcry, stretched out her arms to aid her pathetic appeal to papa to "p'ay one little hos" with her, "_only but one_!" evidently fearful of being out-generalled, the invader beat a rapid retreat from the enemy's camp, with the words "thank you, love, i believe the little rascal didn't tumble it, though i came within an ace, like a real alderman, of _dying of a dinner_--before it was eaten!" after this initiatory visit to the nursery of my fair friend, mrs. thompson, i was allowed to come and go at my own pleasure, during the remainder of my visit beneath her hospitable roof, and i found myself so interested and amused by what i witnessed there, as often to leave the solitude of my own apartment, though surrounded there by every possible "aid and appliance" of comfort and enjoyment that refinement and courtesy could supply, to learn the most beautiful lessons of practical wisdom and goodness from the most unpretending of teachers. one morning when the _habitué_ had sought his accustomed post of observation, a young lady presented herself at the door, and seeing me, was about to retreat with something about its being very early for a visit, when mrs. thompson recalled her with a "come in, my dear, and let me have the pleasure of presenting you to colonel lunettes, the friend of whom you have heard us all speak so often." after the usual courtesies, this lovely earth-angel, with some hesitation, and drawing her chair nearer her friend, explained her errand. making a little screen of a cherub-head, as was my wont, i regaled myself unobserved, with the music of sweet voices and the study of pretty faces. i caught--"my old drawing-teacher"--"her husband was a brute in their best days"--"this long, hard winter"--"not even a carpet"--"the poor child on a wooden-bottomed chair, with a little dirty pillow behind her head, and so emaciated!"--here there was a very perceptible quiver in the low tones, followed by a little choking sort of pause. "i am really grateful to you for coming--i have been unusually occupied lately by the baby's illness and other duties--the weather has given me more than one twinge of conscience"--this accompanied by a quiet transfer from one purse to another, and then i heard, as the two ladies bent over the crib of the sleeping infant--"is there a stout boy among the children? there are the barrels of pork and beef, always ready in the cellar--each good and wholesome of their kind--husband always has them brought from the farm on purpose to give away; and we have abundance of fine potatoes--john could not readily find the place, and really, just now, he is pretty busy; still, perhaps, they have the natural pride of better days--if you think it well, i will try to send"--the gentle ministers of mercy left the room together, and i heard no more. presently, the youth of whom i have before spoken, still at home enjoying his holiday's college vacation, joined me, and, between the exercises of an entertaining gymnastic exhibition, in which he and willie were the chief performers, regaled me with humorous sketches of college adventures, anecdotes of the professors, etc., in the details of some of which i think he had his quiet old nurse in his mind's eye, as well as his father's guest. when mrs. thompson resumed her accustomed seat at her business-table, as it might well be called, my agreeable young entertainer slid away from the group about the fire, and was soon snugged down, in his own favorite fashion, with his legs comfortably crossed over the top of the chair sustaining mammy's implements, cheek-by-jowl with the venerable genius of the sewing-basket, dipping into a newspaper, and chatting, at intervals, with his humble friend. once in a while i caught a sentence like this: "i say, mammy, you can't begin to think how glad i am you are getting down to my shirts! such work as they make washing for a fellow at college! my black washerwoman (and such a beauty as she is--such a little rosebud of a mouth!) pretends to fasten the loose buttons--now, there is a specimen of her performances--just look! the real truth is, mrs. welch, that mother and you are the only women i know of who can sew on a button worth a pin--just the only two, by george! now, there's pierre de carradeaux, one of our young fellows down there--his friends all live in hayti, or some other unknown and uninhabitable region, you know, over the sea--i wish you could see his clothes! the way they mend at the tailors! but the darns in his stockings are the funniest. he rooms with me, and so i hear him talking to himself, in french. i am afraid he swears, sometimes--but the way he fares is enough to make a saint swear!" and then followed a detail that caused mammy to wipe her eyes in sympathy with this strange phase of human woe, in alternation with an occasional exclamation of amusement--like, "you'll surely be the death of me, master sidney!" apparently forced spasmodically from her lips, despite the self-imposed taciturnity which, i shrewdly suspected, my presence created. "mother, my revered maternal primitive, may i read you this anecdote? colonel, will you allow me?"--a respectful glance at the book in my hand. and squeezing himself in from behind, by some utterly inconceivable india-rubber pliancy, between the fire and his much-enduring parent, the tall form of the stripling slowly subsided until i could discern nothing but a mass of wavy black hair reposing amid the soft folds of his mother's morning-gown, and a bit of his newspaper. thus disposed, apparently to the entire satisfaction of all concerned, he read: "once, while the celebrated john kemble, the renowned actor and acute critic, was still seated at the dinner-table of an english nobleman, with whom he had been dining, a servant announced that mrs. kemble awaited her husband in a carriage at the door. some time elapsed, and the impersonator of shakspeare's mighty creations remained immovable. at length the servant, re-entering, said: 'mrs. kemble bids me say, sir, that she is afraid of getting the _rheumatiz_.' 'add _ism_,' replied the imperturbable critic of language, and quietly continued his discourse with his host." "if i should ever be compelled to marry--which, of course, i never shall unless you disinherit me, mother, or mammy insists upon leaving us to keep house for that handsome widower, in the long snuff overcoat--[though the respectable female thus alluded to did not even glance up from her stitching, i plainly marked a little nod of virtuous defiance, and a fluttering in the crimpings of the ample cap-border, that plainly expressed desperation to the hopes of the widower aforesaid]--but if fate _should_ decree my 'attaining knowledge under difficulties,' upon this subject, i hope i'll be a little too decent to keep my wife sitting out doors in a london fog (i shall make a bridal tour to europe, of course), while i am imbibing, even with a 'nobleman.' speaking of the tyranny of fate, i am, most reluctantly, compelled to deprive you of my refreshing conversation, my dear and excellent mother. if my dilapidated linen is restored to its virgin integrity: in other words, if my shirt is done, i propose retiring to the deepest shades of private life, and getting myself up, without the slightest consideration for the financial affairs of my honored masculine progenitor, for a morning call upon ----, the fortunate youthful beauty i, at present, honor with my particular adoration." so saying, sir hopeful slowly emerged from his 'loop-hole of retreat,' and making a profound obeisance to his guardian spirit, and another to me, a shade less lowly, he took himself off, with his linen over his arm, and a grand parting flourish at the door, with his hat upon his walking-stick, for the especial benefit of his little brother, which elicited a shout of unmingled admiration from the juvenile spectators that need not have been despised by herr alexander himself. during dinner that day, as the varied and most bountiful course of pastry, etc., was about to be removed, young sidney said: "mother, allow me to relieve you of the largest half of that solitary-looking piece of mince-pie. i am sorry i cannot afford to take the whole of it under my protecting care." "my dear son," replied my hostess, pleasantly, "let me suggest the attractions of variety. you have already done your _devoir_ to this pie. your father pronounces the cocoanut excellent"--and then, as if in reply to the look of surprise that met her good-humored sally, she added, in a tone meant only for the ears of the youth, "this happens to be the last, and mammy eats no other, you remember." "no great matter, either; to-morrow will be baking-day. now i know why you took none yourself, mother," answered sidney, cheerfully, in the same "aside" manner; and the placid smile on the hospitable face of the 'home-mother' alone acknowledged her recognition of the ascription of self-denial to her; for it is not occasionally, but always, that "in the clear heaven of her delightful eye, an angel guard of loves and graces lie." adieu! uncle hal. letter v. manner--practical directions. my dear nephews: though good breeding is always and everywhere essentially the same, there are phases of daily life, especially demanding its exhibition. _manner in the street_ is one of these. even in hours most exclusively devoted to business, do not allow yourself to hurry along with a clouded, absent face and bent head, as if you forever felt the foot of the earth-god on your neck! carry an erect and open brow into the very midst of the heat and burden of the day. take time to see your friends, as they cross you in the busy thoroughfares of life and, at least by a passing smile or a gesture of recognition, give token that you are not resolved into a mere money-making machine, and both will be better for this fleeting manifestation of the inner being. during business hours and in crowded business-streets no man should ever stop another, whom he knows to be necessarily constantly occupied at such times, except upon a matter of urgent need, and then if he alone is to be benefited by the detention, he should briefly apologize and state his errand in as few words as possible. but the habit of a cheerful tone of voice, a cordial smile, and friendly grasp of the hand, when meeting those with whom one is associated in social life, is not to be regarded as unimportant. if you do not intend to stop, when meeting a gentleman friend, recognize him as you approach, by a smile, and touching your hat salute him audibly with--"good morning, sir," or "i hope you are well, sir," or (more familiarly), "ah, charley!--good morning to you." but don't say, "how d' ye do, sir," when you cannot expect to learn, nor call back as you pass, something that will cause him to linger, uncertain what you say. if you wish to stop a moment, especially in a thoroughfare, retain the hand you take, while you retire a little out of the human current; and never fall into the absurdity of attempting to draw a tight or moistened glove while another waits the slow process. it is better to offer the gloved hand as a rule, without apology, in the street. if you are compelled to detain a friend, when he is walking with a stranger, briefly but politely apologize to the stranger, and keep no one "in durance vile" longer than absolute necessity requires. when thus circumstanced yourself, respond cheerfully and courteously to the apologetic phrase offered, and, drawing a little aside, occupy yourself with anything beside the private conversation that interrupts your walk. sometimes circumstances render it decorous to pass on with some courteous phrase, to step into some neighboring bookseller's, etc., or to make a rapid appointment for a re-union. cultivate the quick discernment, the ready tact, that will engender _ease of manner_ under those and similar circumstances requiring prompt action. never leave a friend suddenly in the street, either to join another, or for any other reason, without an apology; the briefest phrase, expressed in a _cordial tone_, will suffice, in an emergency. upon passing servants, or other inferiors in station, whom you wish to recognize, in the street, it is a good practice, without bowing or touching the hat, to salute them in a kindly voice. when you meet a gentleman whom you know, walking with one or more ladies, with whom you are not acquainted, bow with grave respect to them also. politeness requires that upon meeting ladies and gentlemen together, with both of whom one is acquainted, that one should lift the hat as he approaches them, and bowing first to the ladies, include the gentleman in a sweeping motion, or a succeeding bow, as the case permits. should you stop, speak first to the lady, but do not offer to shake hands with a lady in full morning costume, should your glove be dark-colored or your hand uncovered. again lift your hat to each, in succession of age or rank, as a substitute for this dubious civility, with some playful expression, as "i am sorry my glove is not quite fresh, mrs. ----, but you need no assurance of my being always the most devoted of your friends" or "admirers," or "really, miss ----, you are so beautifully dressed, and looking so charmingly, that i dare not venture too near!" and as you part, again take your hat quite off, letting the party _pass you_, and on the wall side of the street, if that be practicable. in the street with other men, carefully give that precedence to superior age or station which is so becoming in the young, by taking the outer side of the pavement, or that nearer the counter current, as circumstances may make most polite. when you give, or have an arm, carefully avoid all erratic movements, and _keep step_, like a well-trained soldier! towards _ladies_, in the streets, the most punctilious observance of politeness is due. walking with them, one should, of course, assume the relative position best adapted to protect them from inconvenience or danger, and carefully note and relieve them from the approach of either. in attending them into a store, &c., always give them precedence, holding the door open from without, if practicable. if compelled to pass before them, to attend to this courtesy, say, "allow me," or "with your permission," etc. meeting ladies, the hat should be taken off as you bow, and replaced when you have passed, or, if you pause to address them, politely raised again as you quit them. when you are stopped by a lady friend in the street, at once place yourself so as best to shield her from the throng, if you are in a crowd, or from passing vehicles, etc., and never by your manner indicate either surprise or embarrassment upon such an occasion. allow _her_ to terminate the interview, and raise your hat quite off as you take leave of her. when a stranger lady addresses an inquiry to you in the street, or when you restore something she has inadvertently dropped, touch your hat ceremoniously, and with some phrase or _accent_ of respect, add grace to a civility. if you have occasion to speak more than a word or two to a lady whom you may meet in walking, turn and accompany her while you say what you wish, and, taking off your hat, when you withdraw, express your regret at losing the further enjoyment of her society, or the like. if you wish to join a lady whom you see before you, be careful in hurrying forward not to incommode her (or others, indeed), and do not speak so hurriedly, or loudly, as to startle her, or arrest attention, and should you have only a slight acquaintance with her, say, as you assume a position at her side, "with your permission, madam, i will attend you," or "give me leave to join your walk, miss ----" etc. of course, no well-bred man ever risks the possibility of intrusion in this way, or ever speaks first to a lady to whom he has only had a passing introduction. in the latter case, you look at a lady as you advance towards her, and await her recognition. speaking of an intrusion, you should be well assured that you will not make an _awkward third_ before you venture to attach yourself to a lady and gentleman walking together, though you may even know them very well; and the same rule holds good in a picture-gallery, rococo-shop, or elsewhere, when two persons, or a party, sit or walk together. every man is bound by the laws of courtesy, to note any street accident that imperils ladies, and at once to hasten to render such service as the occasion requires. promptitude and self-possession may do good service to humanity and the fair, at such a juncture. should you observe ladies whom you know, unattended by a gentleman, alighting from or entering a carriage, especially if there is no footman, and the driver maintains his seat, at once advance, hold the door open, and offer your hand, or protect a dress from the wheel, or the like, and bowing, pass on, all needed service rendered; or, if more familiarity and your own wish sanction it, accompany them where they may chance to be entering. no general rule can be laid down respecting offering the arm to ladies in the street. where persons are known and reside habitually, local custom will usually be the best guide. at night, the arm should always be tendered, and so in ascending the multiplied steps of a public building, etc., for equally obvious reasons. for similar cause, you go before ladies into church, into a crowded concert-room, etc., wherever, in short, they are best aided in securing seats, and escaping jostling, by this precedence of them. when attending a stranger lady, in visiting the noted places of your own city, or the like, and when one of a party for a long walk, or of travellers, it may often be an imperative civility to proffer the arm. to relatives, or elderly ladies, this is always a proper courtesy, as it is to every woman, when you can thus most effectually secure her safety or her comfort. do not forget, when walking with elderly people, or ladies, to moderate the headlong speed of your usual step. i will here enter my most emphatic protest against a practice of which ladies so justly complain,--the too-frequent rudeness of men in stationing themselves at the entrance of churches, concert-rooms, opera houses, etc., for the express purpose, apparently, of staring every modest woman who may chance to enter, out of countenance. no one possessed of true good-breeding will indulge in a practice so at variance with propriety. if occasion demands your thus remaining stationary upon the steps or in the portico of a public edifice, make room, at once, for ladies who may be entering, and avoid any appearance of curiosity regarding them. a similar course is suitable when occupying a place upon the steps, or at the windows of a pump-room at a watering-place, or of a hotel. carefully avoid all semblance of staring at ladies passing in the street, alighting from a carriage, etc., and make no comment, even of a complimentary nature, in a voice that can possibly reach their ears. so, when walking in the street, if beauty or grace attract your attention, let your regard be respectful, and, even then, not too fixed. an audible comment or exclamation, addressed to a companion, a laugh, a familiar stare, are each and all, when any stranger, and more especially a _woman_, is the subject of them, unhandsome in the extreme. * * * * * breakfasting one morning, at west point, with an agreeable portuguese, we chatted for some time over the newspapers and our coffee, as we sat within view of one of the most beautiful landscapes it has ever been my fortune to behold. at length our _un-american_ indulgence in this respect, became the theme of conversation between us. "pardon me," said the elegant foreigner, "but though the americans are very kind--a very pleasant people, they do not take enough of time for these things, at all. they do not only eat in a hurry, but they even _pass their friends_ in the street, sometimes, _without speaking to them_! i remember last winter, in philadelphia, where i was some months, i met one day, in chestnut street, a gentleman whom i knew very well, and he passed me without speaking. i made up my mind at once, that this shall not happen again, so the next time i saw him coming, i looked into a shop window, or at something, and did not see him. he came to me and said--"good morning, mr. a----! what is the matter with you, that you do not speak to me?" or something like that. i answered, that he had _cut_ me in the street (i think that is what you call it!) two or three days before, and that i never will permit myself to be treated in this manner. then he said, that i must excuse him, that he must have been _in business_ and did not see me, and so on. but this is not the way of a _gentleman_ in my country!" you must imagine for yourselves the double effect, lent to the words of my companion by his foreign action and imperfect pronunciation, and the slight curl of his dark moustache as he emphasized the words i have underscored. * * * * * "what a harum-scarum fellow that james condon is!" exclaimed a young lady, in my hearing. "i had reason to repent declining to drive to the concert last night, i assure you! the moon, upon which i had counted, was obscured, and he not only hurried me along (though we had plenty of time, as i was quite ready when he came), at breathless speed, but actually dragged me over a heap of rubbish, in crossing the street, upon which i nearly tumbled down, though i had his arm. when we reached the place, i was so heated and flurried that i could not half enjoy the music, and this morning i find not only that my handsome new boots are completely spoiled, but that i have any quantity of lime upon the bottom of the dress i wore, and my pretty fan, which he must needs insist upon carrying for me, sadly broken!" * * * * * "i have seen everything and everybody i wish, in london, except the duke of wellington," said a sprightly lady whose early morning walk past apsley house--the town residence of the iron duke--i was attending some years since, "every distinguished man, except the hero of waterloo. i hope i shall not lose that pleasure!" "you may have that pleasure now, madam!" exclaimed a gentleman, passing us and rapidly walking forward, in whose erect figure and very narrow brimmed hat, i at once recognized the object of my companion's hitherto unsatisfied curiosity. strolling in kensington park, during that same morning, and at an hour too unfashionably early for a crowd, with my fair charge, i drew her gently aside, as she leaned on my arm, from some slight obstruction in our path, which she did not observe, and which might otherwise have incommoded her. "really colonel lunettes," said she, "your watchful politeness reminds me of my dear father's. you gentlemen of the old school so much surpass modern beaux in courtesy! i well remember the last walk i had in broadway with papa, before we sailed. mrs. w---- and i were making a morning visit, quite up town for us brooklynites--in union place, upon a bride, when who should also arrive but papa. when we took leave, he accompanied us, and finding that we had taken a fancy to walk all the way to the ferry, insisted upon going with us--only think, at his age, and so luxurious in his habits, too! as he is a little hard of hearing, and likes always to talk with mrs. w----, who is a great favorite of his, i insisted upon his walking between us--that i might have his arm, and yet not interfere with his conversation. this, of course, brought me on the outside. but i cannot describe to you the watchful care he had for me, all the way. at the slightest crowding he held me so firmly--saw every swerve of the vehicles towards us, and would hold my dress away from every rough box or so, that lumbered the sidewalk, and every now and then he would say--'minnie, wouldn't you be more comfortable on my other arm? i am afraid you will be hurt there!' at the brooklyn ferry he was to leave us, as he could not go over to dine that day. seeing a crowd at the door of the office, he hastened a little before us to pay the fare, and then saw us safely through the press, taking leave of me as politely as of mrs. w----. 'what an elegant gentleman your father is!' cried out mrs. w----, as soon as he was gone, 'he always reminds me of the descriptions we read of the chivalrous courtesy of knights of olden time; it is like listening to a heroic ballad to be with him, and receive his politeness.' i know you won't laugh at me, colonel, when i say that the memory of that simple incident is still as fresh in my heart, as though no ocean voyage and long travel had come between; and i can truly say that i was prouder of my _cavalier attendant_ that day, than i ever was of all the young men together, who ever walked broadway, with me." the tremulous tones, the glistening eyes, and the glowing cheeks of the fair young speaker attested the truth of her filial boast, and i--but you must draw your own morals! presently we resumed our chat, and the theme of the moment together. "i well recollect," said my companion, in the course of our discussion, "the impression produced upon me, in my girlhood, by the manners of a young gentleman, who was my groomsman at the wedding of a young friend. some of the lessons of good breeding taught me by his example, i shall never forget, i think. i was the most bashful creature in the world at that time, and he quite won my heart by the politeness with which he set me at ease, at once, when he came to take me away in a carriage to join my young friends. but that was not the point: the next morning after the wedding, we were all to attend the 'happy pair' as far as saratoga, on their wedding-tour; that is, the bridesmaids and bridesmen. at schenectady, we were put into an old-fashioned car, divided into compartments. just as we were about to start, a singularly tall, gaunt, yankeefied-looking elderly woman scrambled into our little box of a place, and seated herself. we were fairly off, before she seemed fully to realize the trials of her new position. she did not say, in the language of the popular song, 'i think there must be danger 'mong so many sparks!' but she looked as though she feared having fallen among the philistines; and, i am ashamed to say that some of our merry party made no scruple of privately amusing themselves with her peculiarities of dress and manner. mr. henry, however (my groomsman), addressed some polite remarks to her, in so grave and respectful a manner as soon to convince her of his sincerity, and as carefully watched the sparks that fell upon her thick worsted gown, as those that annoyed the rest of us. at the first stopping-place, you may be very sure that the unwilling intruder was in haste to change her seat. "'do you wish to get out, madam!' inquired mr. henry; 'allow me to help you;' and bounding out, he assisted her down the high step, as carefully and respectfully as though she were some high dame of rank and fashion. i am afraid that, though i did not actually join in the merriment of my thoughtless friends, i deserved the sting of conscience that served to fasten this little incident so firmly in my remembrance. perhaps i was, for this reason, the more impressed by another proof of the ever-ready politeness of this gentleman, who made such an impression upon my girlish fancy. we dined at ballston, on our way to saratoga, and after dinner, i asked mr. henry, with whom, in spite of my first awe of his superiority of years and polish, i began to feel quite at ease, to run down with me to one of the springs, for a glass of water, before we should resume our journey. so he good-naturedly left the gentlemen (_now_ i know that he may have wished to smoke) together at the table, and accompanied me. but now for my _dénoûment_. just as we were in a narrow place, between a high, steep bank and the track, the cars came rushing towards us. in an instant, _quicker_ than thought, mr. henry had transferred me from the arm next the cars--because more removed from the edge of the bank--to the other arm, thus placing his person between me and any passing danger, and with such a quiet, re-assuring manner! you smile, colonel--but, really--well, you see what an impression it made upon my youthful sensibilities!" * * * * * "oh, girls, such a charming adventure as i had this evening!" exclaimed margaret, as a bevy of fair young creatures clustered together before the fire in a drawing-room where i was seated after dinner, with my newspaper. my attention was arrested by the peculiar animation with which these words were pronounced, and i glanced at the group, over the top of my spectacles. they reminded me of so many brilliant-hued butterflies, in their bright-colored winter dresses, and with their light, wavy motions as they settled themselves, one on a pile of cushions, others on a low ottoman, and two pretty fairies on the hearth-rug, each uttering some exclamation of gratification at the prospect of amusement. "now, don't expect anything extraordinary or dreadful, you silly creatures; i have no 'hair-breadth 'scapes by land or sea' to entertain you with. can't one have a 'charming adventure,' and yet have nothing to tell?" "but do tell us all there is to tell, dear miss ----. do, please, this very moment," entreated one of the fairies, linking her arms around her companion, and mingling her golden ringlets with the darker locks of the head upon which her own lovingly rested. and a little concert of similar pleadings followed. this prelude over, the tantalizing adventuress began: "before i went over to new york this morning, i wrote a little note to mary bostwick, telling her all about our arrangements for the christmas-tree, and charging her not to fail to come to us on christmas eve, and all about it, for fear that, as i had so much to accomplish, i might not be able to go up to twenty-third street, and return home in time to meet you all here. my plan was to keep it until i was decided, and then, if obliged to send it, to put it in one of the city express letter-boxes. well, by the time i was through with all my important errands, it was time for me to turn my steps homeward. so, happening last at tiffany's, to get the--i mean, i asked at tiffany's for one of the places where a box is kept in that neighborhood, and was told that there was one in a druggist's, quite near--just above. hurrying along, i must have passed the place, and stopped somewhere not far below 'taylor's,' to see exactly where i was. time was flying, and it was really almost growing dark; so i ventured to inquire of a gentleman who was passing, though an entire stranger, for the druggist's. "'i think it is below, near the astor house,' said he, with such an appearance of interest as to embolden me to mention what i was in search of. "'if that is all,' he replied, 'i dare say there is one nearer. let me see,' glancing around, 'i think there is one on the opposite corner--i will see.' "'i have no right to give you that trouble, sir,' said i. "'yes you have--it is what every man owes to your sex.' "'you are very good, sir; but i am sure i can make the inquiry for myself.' "'no, it is a tavern, where you cannot properly go alone! remain here, and i will ascertain for you.' "before i could repeat my thanks, the gentleman was half across the street. "hoping to facilitate matters, i followed him to the opposite pavement, and stood where he would observe me upon coming out of the door i had seen him enter. i held the note and my porte-monnaie ready in my hand. "'there is a box here,' said my kind friend, returning, 'if you will intrust me with your letter, i will deposit it for you.' "'you are very good, sir; i would like to pay it,' i answered, opening my porte-monnaie. "he took the letter quickly, and prevented my intended offer of the postage so decidedly, that i did not dare insist. but, by this time, i really could not refrain from the expression of more than an ordinary acknowledgment: "'i have to thank you, sir,' said i, 'not only for a real kindness to a stranger, but for a _pleasant memory_, which i shall not soon lose. such courtesy is too unusual to be soon forgotten! 'how far one little candle sometimes throws its rays!'--many thanks and good evening, sir!' "i had still one more errand in canal street, but i stayed on the 'unfashionable side' of the street, and went up, to avoid the awkwardness of re-crossing with the gentleman, and the possibility of imposing any further tax upon his politeness--bless him! i wasn't half as weary after i met him, and my heart has been in a glow ever since!" "bravo!" "bravissimo!" echoed round the room, in various waves of silvery sound. "is that all, miss ----?" inquired the only _boy_ of the party, unless you except the approach to second childhood ensconced behind the newspaper, and now acting the amiable part of _reporter_, for your benefit. "all, unless i add that i occasionally glanced cautiously over, to catch the form of my kind friend, as i hurried along, that i might not again cross his path; but i did not 'calculate' successfully after all; for, as i ran across broadway, at canal street corner, he was a little nearer than i had expected. i bowed slightly, and hurried on:--but wasn't it beautiful? such chivalrous sentiments towards women: '_it is what we all owe your sex!_' and his manner was more expressive than his words--so gentle and quiet! no stage effect"---- "but you quoted shakespeare," insinuated a pretty piece of malice on the ottoman. "i couldn't help it, if i did! i was surprised out of the use of ordinary language by an extraordinary occasion. if you are going to ridicule me, i shall be sorry i told you; for it is one of the pleasantest things that has happened to me in a great while! there was i, in my _incognito-dress_, as i call it, weary and pale, nothing about me to attract interest, i am sure! i wish such men were more common in this world, they would elevate the race!" "i declare, cousin maggie, you are growing enthusiastic! i haven't seen such beaming eyes and such a brilliant color for a long time! was this most gallant knight of yours a _young_ gentleman, may i ask?" the lady thus questioned seemed to reflect a moment before she replied: "if you mean to inquire whether he was a whiskered, moustached _élégant_, not a bit of it! i should not have addressed such a man in the street. on the contrary, he was"---- "_married_, i am afraid!" interrupted pretty mischief on the ottoman, giggling behind her next neighbor. "i dare say he may have been," pursued the narrator, quietly. "no very young man, even if he had wished to be polite to a stranger neither young nor beautiful, which is very doubtful, would have exhibited the graceful self-possession and easy politeness of this gentleman:--he was, probably, going to his home in the upper part of the city after a business-day. as i remember his dress, though, of course, i had no thought about it at the time, it was the simple, unnoticeable attire of an american gentleman when engaged in business occupations--everything about him, as i recall his presence, was in keeping--unostentatious, quiet, appropriate! i shall long preserve his portrait in my picture-gallery of memory, and i am proud to believe that he is my own countryman!" "cousin maggie always says," remarked one of her auditors, "that americans are the most truly polite men she has met"---- "yes," returned the enthusiast, "though sometimes wanting in mere surface-polish-- 'where'er i roam, whatever lands i see, my heart, untravelled, fondly turns to'---- my own dear, honored countrymen--more truly chivalrous, more truly just towards our sex, than the men of any other land! i never yet appealed to one of them for aid, for courtesy, _as a woman, and as a woman should_, in vain. and i never, scarcely, am so placed as to have occasion for kindness--real kindness--without receiving it, unasked. the other day, for instance, caught in a sudden shower, i stood waiting for a stage, 'down town,' in broadway. there was such a jam that i was afraid to try and get into one that stopped quite near the sidewalk. a policeman, at that moment, asked me whether i wished to get in, and, holding my arm, stepped over the curb with me. 'i don't know what the ladies would do without the aid of your corps, sometimes, in these crowds,' said i. "'if the ladies will accept our services, we are proud, madam,' answered he. "'i am very glad to do so,' returned i; and well i might, for, at that instant, as i was on the point of setting my foot on the step of the omnibus, the horse attached to a cart next behind suddenly started forward, and left no space between his head and the door of the stage. i shrunk back, as you may imagine, and said i would walk, in spite of the rain. but the policeman encouraged me, and called out to the carman to fall back. at that instant, i observed a gentleman come out upon the step of the stage. with a single imperious gesture, and the sternest face, he drove back the horse, and springing into the omnibus, held the door open with one hand, and extended the other to me. to be sure, the policeman almost pinched my arm in two, in his effort to keep me safe, but i was, at last, seated with whole bones and a grateful heart, at the side of my brave, kind champion. as soon as i recovered breath, i was curious to see again the face whose expression had arrested my attention (of course, i did not wait for breath to _thank_ him), and to note the external characteristics of a man who would impulsively render such service to a woman--like charles lamb--(dear, gentle charles lamb!) holding his umbrella over the head of a washerwoman, because she was a _woman_! well, my friend was looking straight before him, apparently wholly unconscious of the existence of the trembling being he had so humanely befriended, with the most impenetrable face imaginable, and a sort of abstracted manner. presently i desired to open the window behind me--still not quite recovered from my fright and flutter. almost before my hand was on the glass, my courteous neighbor relieved me of my task. again i rendered cordial thanks, and again, as soon as delicacy permitted, glanced furtively at the face beside me. nothing to reward my scrutiny was there revealed; the same absorbed, fixed expression, the same seeming unconsciousness! but can you doubt that a noble, manly nature was veiled beneath that calm face and quiet manner--a nature that would gleam out in an instant, should humanity prompt, or wrong excite? and i could tell you numberless such anecdotes--all illustrative of my favorite theory." "so could we all," said another lady, "i have no doubt, if we only remembered them." "i never forget anything of that kind," returned margaret. "it is to me like a strain of fine music, _acted poetry_, if i may use such a phrase. such incidents make, for me, the _poetry of real life_, indeed! they inspire in my heart, 'the still, _sweet_ music of humanity.'" one magnificent moonlight night, while i was in rome with your cousins and the w----s, a party was formed to visit the coliseum. that whimsical creature, grace, whom i had more than once detected in a disposition to fall behind the rest of the company, as we strolled slowly through the ruins, at length stole up to me, as i paused a little apart from the group, and twining her arm within mine, whispered softly: "_do_, dear uncle hal, come this way with me for a few moments!" yielding to the impulse she gave me, we were presently disengaged from our companions, and, leaning, as if by mutual agreement, against a pillar. "what a luxury it is to be quiet!" exclaimed your cousin, with a sigh of relief. "how that little miss b---- _does_ chatter! really it is profanation to think or speak of common things to-night, and here!" "well, my fair epicurean," returned i, "since ----'silence, like a poultice comes to heal the blows of sound,' you shall reward me for my indulgence in attending you, by repeating some of byron's _apropos_ lines, for me as we stand here"-- "at your pleasure, dear uncle." presently she began, in a subdued tone, as if afraid of disturbing the dreams of another, or as if half listening while she spoke to the tread of those 'whose distant footsteps echo through the corridors of time;' but gradually losing all consciousness, save that of the inspiration of the bard, our fair enthusiast reached a climax of eloquence with the words-- 'the azure gloom of an italian night, where the deep skies assume hues which have words, and speak to ye of heaven, floats o'er this vast and wondrous monument,'-- and she stretched out her arm, with an impulsive gesture, as she spoke. i perceived a sudden recoil, at the instant, of her dilating form, and, before i could devise an explanation, heard the words, "you are my prisoner, madam," and discovered a gentleman standing in the deep shadow of the pillar, close at her side, busily endeavoring to disentangle the fringe of her shawl from the buttons of his coat. i remembered, afterwards, having noticed in passing, sometime before, a shadowy figure standing with folded arms and upturned face, half lost in the deep shadow of a pillar, apparently quite unconscious of the vicinity of the chattering ephemera fluttering by his retreat. i at once surmised that grace and i had approached from the other side, and inadvertently stationed ourselves near this æsthetical devotee--so near that your cousin, in the excitement of her eloquence, had fastened a lasso upon the dress of the stranger. "you are my prisoner, madam," he said, in french. the words were simple enough, not so apposite but that many an one might have uttered them under similar circumstances. yet they were replete with meaning, conveyed by the subtle aid of intonation and of _manner_. the most chivalrous courtesy, the most exquisite refinement, were fully expressed in that brief sentence. "i have no fears either for my purse, or my life," returned the quick-witted lady thus addressed, aiding in the required disentanglement. "you need have none," rejoined the gentleman, "though the laws of chivalry entitle me to demand a goodly ransom for so fair a prize"--glancing politely towards me. "accept, at least, the poor guerdon of this token of my thanks," said the enthusiast of the moment, tendering a beautiful flower, which was opportunely loosened from her bosom by the slight derangement of her dress. "it will be a treasured memento," answered the stranger, receiving the proffered gift with graceful respect, and, bowing with the most courtly deference, he walked rapidly away, as loth, by lingering one needless moment, to seem intrusive. "what a voice!" exclaimed grace, as the retreating figure disappeared behind the fragment of a fallen column, "blithe as the matin tone of a lark, and"---- "clear as the note of the clarion that startled you so upon the appian way, the other day," i suggested, "and indeed, i am not sure that there was not a little tremor in your fingers, this time, my brave lady, and that you did not hold just a little tighter fast the arm of your old uncle." "what nonsense, uncle hal!--could anything be more delicately reassuring--admitting that i was startled, at first,--than the whole bearing of the gentleman?" "should you know him again?" i questioned. "i think i should, were it only by the diamond he wore," she replied, with a little laugh at the woman's reason. "did you observe it uncle, as his macintosh was opened by the pulling of that silly fringe--really it might grace the crescent of dian herself, on a gala-night--it was a young star! but i also saw his face distinctly as he raised his hat." well, now for the _dénoûment_ of my story--for every romantic adventure should properly have a _dénoûment_. as we were all riding on the campagna a few days afterwards, the usual intimation was given of the approach of the _cortége_ of the pope. of course we went through the mummery of withdrawing, while the poor old man was hurried along in his airing. standing thus together, a party of gentlemen rode rapidly up, and, recognizing some of our party, joined us. scarcely were the usual greetings over, when grace, reining her horse near me, said, in a low tone: "uncle, there is the 'bright particular star' of the other night in the coliseum; i know i am not mistaken." and so it proved--the polished, graceful stranger was not a prince _incognito_, not even an acreless count, whose best claim to respect consisted in hereditary titles and courtly manners, but a _young american artist_, full of activity, enthusiasm and genius, who had not forgotten to give beauty to the casket, because it enshrined a gem of high value. _apropos_ of gems--i afterwards learned that the superb brilliant he always wore on his breast was a token of the gratitude of a distinguished and munificent patron and friend, for whom this child of feeling and genius had successfully incarnated all that was earthly of one loved and lost. we subsequently became well acquainted with our gifted countryman, and a right good fellow he proved. we met him constantly in society, while at florence--the italian _paradise of americans_, as miss ---- always called it--where his genial manners, the type of a genial nature, made him a general favorite, as well with natives as foreigners. soon after he was named to me that day on the campagna, your cousin, who had again moved from my side, turned her face towards us. the movement arrested the attention of my companion--he glanced inquiringly at me. "i think i am not mistaken, sir; have we not met before?" and the same exquisite courtesy illumined his face that had so impressed me previously. "may i ask the honor of a presentation to my sometime prisoner?" "really, sir," i overheard grace confessing, in her sprightliest tones, as, the two parties uniting for the nonce, we all rode on together; "really, sir, i remember to have been secretly rejoiced at having left my heart, watch, and other valuables, safely locked up at home, when i found myself in such a dangerous-looking neighborhood." "and _i_ still indulge the regret that my profession did not fully entitle me to retain possession, not only of the shawl, which, no doubt, was a camel's hair of unknown value, but of the embodied poetry it enwrapped." "you seem quite to overlook the fact that i was guarded, like a damsel of old, by a doughty knight." i wish i could half describe the dextrous twirl of the moustache, and the quickly-shadowed brow that suddenly transformed that luminous and honest face into that of the dark, moody brigand, as, fumbling in his bosom the while, as about to unsheath a dagger, he growled, in mock-heroic manner--"it were easy to find means to silence such an opponent, with such a reward in view!" the merry laugh with which grace received this sally, proved that she, at least, liked the _versatility of manner_ possessed by her gallant attendant. * * * * * touching the electric chain of memory, causes another link to vibrate, and i am reminded of my promise, made in a former letter, to tell you about the american girl whose beautiful arm threw powers into raptures. you will, perhaps, recollect that i alluded to my having met abroad the heroine of the _cornelian pâté_ anecdote. i assure you, i had ample occasion, more than once, to be proud of my lovely countrywoman, in the most distinguished european circles--and by that term i do not refer to distinction created by mere rank. but to my tale: one day, during our mutual sojourn in her well-named italian "paradise," miss ----, and her father, in accordance with a previous arrangement, called at my lodgings, to take me with them to a dinner at the palace de ----. "i propose, as we have purposely come early, col. lunettes, in the hope of finding you at leisure, that we shall drop in at powers' studio, a few minutes; it is in our direct way, and he will be there, as i happen to know. i so wish to know your impression of papa's bust." while i was enjoying a chat with the presiding genius of the scene, a little apart from a group gathered about some object of peculiar interest, a sudden glow of enthusiasm lighted his eye, as with promethean fire. "heavens, what an arm!" exclaimed powers. "oh, for the art to _petrify_ it!" he added, with an expressive gesture, the _furore_ of the artist rapidly enkindling. following the direction of his glance, i beheld what might well excite admiration in a less discriminating spectator. the velvet mantle that had shrouded the gala dress of miss ---- having fallen from her shoulders, disclosed the delicate beauty of the uncovered arm and hand, which she was eagerly extending towards the marble before her. "remain just as you now stand, for a moment," said i, "and let me see what i can do for you." "miss ----," i asked, advancing towards my fair friend, "will you let me invite your attention to this new study? it is entitled 'the artist's prayer,' and is supposed to impersonate the petition, 'petrify it, o, ye gods!'" of course, this led to a brief and laughing explanation. "happily, no earthly powers can achieve that transformation!" exclaimed the lucifer of the coliseum, who was present, "but all will join in the entreaty that we may be permitted to possess an _imitation_ of so beautiful an original." i am not permitted to disclose the secrets of the inner temple; but many of you will yet behold the loveliness that so charmed the lovers of art, moulded into eternal marble. letter vi. manner, continued. rules for visiting, and for manner in society generally. my dear nephews: having attempted, in my last two letters, with what success you will best judge, to give you some practical hints respecting manner at home and in the street, suppose we take up, next, the consideration of the conduct proper in _visiting_, and on public occasions, generally. among the minor obligations of social life, perhaps few things are regarded as more formidable by the unpractised, than ceremonious _morning visits to ladies_. and perhaps, among the simple occurrences of ordinary existence, few serve more fully to illustrate individual tact, self-possession, and conversational skill. without aiming at much method in so doing, i will endeavor to furnish you with a few directions of general applicability. hours for making morning calls are somewhat varied by place and circumstance; but, as a rule, twelve o'clock is the earliest hour at which it is admissible to make a visit of ceremony. from that time until near the prevailing dinner-hour, in a small town, or that known to be such in particular instances, one may suit one's convenience. it is obviously unsuitable, usually, to prolong an interview of this kind beyond a very moderate length, and hence, as well as for other reasons, the conversation should be light, varied, and appropriate to outward circumstances. it is proper to send your card, not only to announce yourself to strangers to whom you may wish to pay your respects, but to all ladies with whom you are not upon very intimate terms, and at a private house, to designate intelligibly to the servant who receives your card, the individual, or the several persons, whom you wish to see. if you go to a hotel, etc., for this purpose, write the name of the lady or ladies, for whom your visit is designed, upon your card, _above_ your own name, in a legible manner, and await the return of the messenger, to whom you intrust it, _where you part from him_. if, upon his return, you are to remain for your friends, and there be a choice of apartments for that purpose, unless you choose to station yourself within sight of the stairs they must of need descend, or the corridor through which they must pass, let the porter in attendance distinctly understand not only your name, but where you are to be found, and if possible, give him some clue to the identification of the friends you wish to see. after a few vexatious mistakes and misapprehensions, you will admit the wisdom of these precautionary measures, i have no doubt. when you are shown into the drawing-room of a private residence, if the mistress of the mansion is present, at once advance towards her. should she offer her hand, be prompt to receive it, and for this purpose, take your hat, stick, and right-hand glove (unless an occasion of extreme ceremony demands your wearing the latter), in your left hand, as you enter. if your hostess does not offer her hand, when she rises to receive you, simply bow, as you pay your compliments, and take the seat she designates, or that the servant places for you. when there are other ladies of the same family present, speak to each, in succession, according to age, or other proper precedence, before you seat yourself. if there are ladies in the room whom you do not know, bow slightly to them, also, and if you are introduced, after you have assumed a seat, rise and bow to them. when men are introduced, they usually mutually advance and shake hands; but the intimation that this will be agreeable to her, should always be the test when you are presented to a lady, or when you address a lady acquaintance. some tact is necessary in deciding your movements when you find yourself preceded by other visitors, in making a morning call. if you have no special reason, as a message to deliver, or an appointment to make, for lingering, and discover that you are interrupting a circle, or when you are in the midst of strangers, where the conversation does not at once become general, upon your making one of them, address a few polite phrases to your hostess, if you can do so with ease and propriety from your position with regard to her, and take leave, approaching her nearly enough, when you rise to go, to make your adieu audible, or to receive her hand, should she offer it. to strangers, even when you have been introduced, you, ordinarily, only bow passingly, as you are about to quit the room. should you have a special object in calling upon a lady, keep it carefully in view, that you may accomplish it before you leave her presence. when other visitors, or some similar circumstance, interfere with the accomplishment of your purpose, you may write what you wish upon a card in the hall, as you go out, and intrust it to a servant, or leave a message with him, or in case of there being objections to either of those methods of communication, resort to an appointment requested through him, or subsequently write a note to that effect, or containing an explanation of the object of your visit. when you determine to outstay others at a morning reception, upon the rising of ladies to depart, you rise also, under all circumstances; and when they are acquaintances, and unattended by a gentleman, accompany them to the street-door, and to their carriage, if they are driving, and then return to your hostess. unacquainted, you simply stand until ladies leave the room, politely returning their parting salutation, if they make one. any appearance of a wish on the part of those whom you chance to meet thus, for an _aside_ conversation, will, of course, suggest the propriety of occupying yourself until your hostess is at leisure, with some subject of interest in the room--turn to a picture, open a book, examine some article of _bijouterie_, and, thus civilly unobtrusive, observe only when it is proper for you to notice the separation of the company. as i have before said, in making a visit of mere politeness, some passing topic of interest should succeed the courteous inquiries, etc., that naturally commence the conversation. visiting a lady practised in the usages of society, relieves one, very naturally, from any necessity for _leading_ the conversation. when your object is to make an appointment, give an invitation, etc., repeat the arrangement finally agreed upon, distinctly and deliberately, upon rising to go away, that both parties may distinctly understand it, beyond the possibility of mistake. in attending ladies who are making morning visits, it is proper to assist them up the steps, ring the bell, write cards, etc. entering, always _follow_ them into the house and into the drawing-room, and wait until they have finished their salutations, unless you have to perform the part of presenting them. in that case, you enter with them, or stand within the door until they have entered, and advance beside them into the apartment. ladies should always be the first to rise, in terminating a visit, and when they have made their adieux, their cavaliers repeat the ceremony, and follow them out. when gentlemen call together, the younger, or least in rank, gives careful precedence to others, rendering them courtesies similar to those due to ladies. soiled over-shoes, or wet over-garments, should, on no account, be worn into an apartment devoted to the use of ladies, unless they cannot be safely left outside--as in the passage of a public house. in such case, by no means omit an apology for the necessary discourtesy. when ladies are not in the apartment where you are to pay your respects to them, advance to meet them upon their entrance; and in the public room of a hotel, meet them as near the door as possible, especially if there is no gentleman with them, or the room be previously occupied, and conduct them to seats. never remain seated in the company of ladies with whom you are ceremoniously associated, while they are standing. follow them to any object of interest to which they direct your attention; place a seat for them, if much time will be required for such a purpose; ring the bell, bring a book; in short, courteously relieve them from whatever may be supposed to involve effort, fatigue, or discomfort of any kind. it is, for this reason, eminently suitable to offer the arm to ladies when ascending stairs. nothing is more absurd than the habit of _preceding them_ adopted by some men--as if by following just behind, as one should, if the arm is disengaged, there can be any violation of propriety. soiled frills or unmended hose must have originated this vulgarity! tender the arm on the wall side of a lady, mounting a stairs, that she may have the benefit of the railing, and the fewer steps upon a landing; and in assisting an invalid, or aged person, it is often well to keep one step in advance. it is always decorous to suit your pace to those you would assist. it is also a proper courtesy, always to relieve ladies of their parcels, parasols, shawls, etc., when ever this will conduce to their convenience, which is especially the case, of course, when they are occupied with the care of their dresses in ascending steps, entering a carriage, or passing through a crowd. the rules of etiquette properly observable in making ordinary ceremonious morning-visits, are also applicable to _morning wedding-receptions_ with slight variations. of course, you do not then announce yourself by a card. when previously acquainted with her, you advance immediately to the bride, and offer your _wishes for her future happiness_. never _congratulate_ a lady upon her marriage; such felicitations are, with good taste, tendered to the bridegroom, not to the bride. having paid your compliments to the bride, you shake hands with the groom, and bow to the bride-maids, when you know them. the mother of the bride should then be sought. here, again refinement dictates the avoidance of too eager congratulations. while expressing a cordial hope that the parents have added to their prospects of future pleasure in receiving a new member into their family, do not insinuate, by your manner, the conviction that they have no natural regret at resigning their daughter "to another path and guide, to a bosom yet untried." it is not usual to sit down on such occasions; and it is as obviously unsuitable to remain long, as it is to engage the attention of those whom others may be waiting to approach, beyond the utterance of a few brief, well-chosen sentences. when you require an introduction to the bride, but are acquainted with her husband, you may speak first to him, and so secure a presentation. usually a groomsman, or some other gentleman, is in readiness to present unknown visitors. in that case, should he, too, be a stranger to you, mention your name to him, and any little circumstance by which he may afford a passing theme or explanation, when he introduces you--as, that you are a friend of her father--promised your particular friend, her sister, to pay your respects, etc. on this, as in the instance of all similar occasions, tact and good-taste must suggest the variations of manner required by the greater or less degree of ceremony prevailing, and your individual relations to those you visit. in this connection i will add that a card may sometimes be properly made a substitute for paying one's respects in person--with a pencilled phrase of politeness, or accompanied by a note. in either case, an envelope of the most unexceptionable kind should be used, and a note written with equal attention to ceremony. a _visit of condolence_ is often most tastefully made by going in person to the residence of your friend, and leaving a courteous message, and your card, with a servant. much politeness is sometimes expressed by the earliest possible call upon friends just arrived from a journey, etc., or by leaving or sending a card, with a pencilled expression of pleasure, and of the intention of availing yourself of the first suitable moment for paying your compliments in person. visits upon new-year's day should be short, as a rule, for the reasons before suggested, and it is not usual to sit down, except when old friends urge it, or when the presence of an elderly person, or an invalid, demands the appearance of peculiar consideration. on all occasions of ceremonious intercourse with superiors in age and station, one or both, manner should be regulated, as respects familiarity, or even cordiality, _by them_. "he approached me with _familiarity_, i repulsed him with _ceremony_," said a man of rank, alluding to an impertinence of this kind. never be the first, under such circumstances, to violate the strict rules of convention. their observance is often the safeguard of sensibility, as well as of self-respect. simple good-taste will dictate the most quiet, unnoticeable bearing at _church_. the saying of the celebrated mrs. chapone, that "it was part of her religion not to disturb the religion of others," is all inclusive. to enter early enough to be fully established in one's seat before the service commences, to attend politely, but very unostentatiously, to the little courtesies that may render others comfortable, to avoid all rude staring, and all appearance of inattention to the proper occupations of the occasion, as well as every semblance of irreverence, will occur to all well-bred persons as obviously required by decorum. when necessitated to go late to church, one should, as on all similar occasions, endeavor to disturb others as little as possible; but with equal studiousness avoid the vulgar exhibition of discomposure, of over-diffidence, or of any consciousness, indeed, of being observed, which so unmistakably savors of low-breeding. i cannot too frequently remind you that _self-possession_ is one of the grand distinctive attributes of a gentleman, and that it is often best illustrated by a simple, quiet, successful manner of meeting the exigencies and peculiarities of circumstances. never wear your hat into church. remove it in the vestibule, and on no account resume it until you return thither, unless health imperatively demands your doing so just before reaching the door opening into it. all nodding, whispering, and exchanging of glances in church, is in bad taste. even the latter should not be indulged in, unless a very charming woman is the provoking cause of the peccadillo, and then very stealthily and circumspectly! salutations, even with intimate friends, should always be very quietly exchanged, while one is still within the body of the sacred edifice, and the "outer court" of the house of god were better not the scene of boisterous mirth, or rude jostling. let me add, here, that it is always proper, when compelled to hurry past those of right before you, at church, or elsewhere in a crowd, to apologize, briefly, but politely, for discommoding any one. whenever you are in attendance upon ladies, as at the opera, concerts, lectures, etc., there is entire propriety in remaining with them in the seat you have paid for, or secured by early attendance. no gentleman should be expected to separate himself from a party to give his place to a lady under such circumstances, and in no country but ours would such a request or intimation be made. but while it is quite justifiable to retain the seat taken upon entering such a public place, nothing is more wholly inadmissible than crowding in and out of your place repeatedly, talking and laughing aloud, mistimed applauding, and the like. if you are not present for the simple purpose of witnessing the performance, whatever it may be, there are, doubtless, those who are; and it is not only exceedingly vulgar, but _immoral_, to invade their rights in this regard. be careful, therefore, to secure your _libretto_, concert-bill, or programme, as the case may be, before assuming your seat; and when you have ladies with you, or are one of a party, especially, as then you cannot so readily accept the penalty of carelessness, by not returning to your first seat. should any unforeseen necessity compel you to crowd past others, and afterwards resume your seat, presume as little as possible upon their polite forbearance, by great care of dresses, toes, etc., and each time politely apologize for the inconvenience you occasion. let me repeat that no excuse exists for the too-frequent rudeness of disturbing others by fidgeting, whispering, laughing, or applauding out of time. and even when standing or moving about between the exercises, on any public occasion, or the acts at a play-house, or opera, well-bred people are never disregardful of the rights and comfort of others. in a picture-gallery, at an exhibition of marbles, etc., nothing can be more indicative of a want of refinement sufficient to appreciate true art, than the impertinence exhibited in audible comments upon the subjects before you, and in interfering with the enjoyment of others by passing before them, moving seats noisily, talking and laughing aloud, etc. with persons of taste and refinement, there is an almost religious sacredness in the presence of the creations of genius, to desecrate which, is as vulgar as it is irreverential of the beautiful and the good. always then, carry out the most scrupulous regard of the rights and feelings of others, when yourself a devotee at the shrine of Æsthetics, by attention to the minutest forms of courtesy. this will dictate leaving your place the moment you rise, carrying everything with you belonging to you, and never stopping to shawl ladies, don an overcoat, or dispose of an opera-glass, until you can do so without interrupting the comfort of those you leave behind you. when you wish to take refreshments, or to offer them to ladies, at public entertainments, it is better to repair to the place where they are served, as a rule, unless it be in the instance of a single glass of water, or the like; except when a party occupy an opera-box, etc., exclusively. be careful never to attach yourself to a party of which you were not originally one, at any time, or place, unless fully assured of its being agreeable to the gentlemen previously associated with ladies; or if a gentleman's party only, attracts you, make yourself quite sure that no peccadillo be involved in your joining it, and in either case, let your manner indicate your remembrance of the circumstance of your properly standing in the relation of a _recipient_ of the civilities due to the occasion. some men practically adopt the opinion that the courteous observances of social and domestic life are wholly inapplicable to _business intercourse_. a little consideration will prove this a solecism. good breeding is not a thing to be put off and on with varying outward circumstance. if genuine, inherent, it will always exhibit itself as certainly as integrity, or any other unalienable quality of an individual. the manifestations of this characteristic by _manner_, will, of course, vary with occasion, but it will, nevertheless, be apparent at all times, and to all observers, when its legitimate influence is rightly understood and admitted. hence, then, though the observance of elaborate ceremony in the more practical associations of busy outer life would be absurdly inappropriate, that careful respect for the rights and feelings of others, which is the basis of all true politeness, should not, under these circumstances, be disregarded. the secret of the superior popularity of some business men with their compeers and _employés_, lies often, rather in _manner_ than in any other characteristic. you may observe, in one instance, a universal favorite, to whom all his associates extend a welcoming hand, as though there were magic in the ready smile and genial manner, and who is served by his inferiors in station with cheerfulness and alacrity, indicating that a little more than a mere business bond draws them to him; and again, an upright, but externally-repulsive man, though always commanding respect from his compeers, holds them aloof by his frigidity, and receives the service of fear rather than of love from those to whom he may be always just, and even humane, if never sympathizing and unbending. as i have before remarked, there is no occasion where we are associated with others, that does not demand the exhibition of a polite manner. thus at a _public table_, no man should allow himself to feed like a mere animal, wholly disregardful of those about him, and, as too frequently happens, forgetful of the proprieties that are observed when eating in private. only at the best conducted hotels are all things so well and liberally appointed as to render those who meet at public tables wholly independent of each in little matters of comfort and convenience, and a well-bred man may be recognized there, as everywhere else, by his manner to those who may chance to be near him. he will neither call loudly to a servant, nor monopolize the services that should be divided with others. his quick eye will discern a lady alone, or an invalid, and his ready courtesy supply a want, or proffer a civility, and he will not grudge a little self-denial, or a few minutes' time, in exchange for the consciousness of being true to himself, even in trifles. nor will he _ever_ eat as though running a race of life and death with time! health and decency will alike prompt him to abstain wholly from attempting to take a meal, rather than assimilate himself to a ravenous brute, to gratify his appetite. let no plea of want of time ever induce you, i entreat, to acquire the american habit of thus eating in public. even in the compulsatory haste of travelling, there is no valid excuse for this unhealthy and disgusting practice. and, with regard to daily life at one's hotel, or the like, the man who is habitually regardful of the value and right use of time, may well and wisely permit himself the simple indulgence and relaxation of _eating like a gentleman_! while on this subject, permit me to remind you of the impropriety of staring at strangers, listening to conversation in which you have no part, commenting audibly upon others, laughing and talking boisterously, etc., etc. let not even admiration tempt you to put a modest woman out of countenance, by a too fixed regard, nor let her even suspect that a nod, a shrug, a significant whisper or glance had her for their object. good-breeding requires one to hear as little as possible of the conversation of strangers, near whom he may chance to be seated. we quietly ignore their presence (as they should ours), unless some exigency demands a courtesy; but we do not disturb our neighbors by vociferousness, even in the height of merriment, however harmless in itself. should a lady, even though an entire stranger, be entering an eating-hall alone, or attended by another gentleman, at the same moment with yourself, give precedence to her, with a slight bow; and so, when quitting the room, as well as to your acknowledged superiors in age or position generally, and carefully avoid such self-engrossment as shall engender inattention to their observances. so, too, when meeting a lady on a public stairs, or in a passage-way, give place sufficiently to allow her to pass readily, touching your hat at the same moment. in the same manner remove a chair, or other obstacle that obstructs the way of a lady in a hotel parlor, or on a piazza; avoid placing a seat so as to crowd a lady, encroach upon a party, or compel you to sit before others. i admit that these are the _minutiæ_ of manners, my dear fellows; but attention to them will increase your self-respect, and give elevation to your general character, just in proportion as _self_ is subdued, and the baser propensities of our nature kept habitually in subserviency to the nobler qualities illustrated by habitual good-breeding. but to return. though the circumstances must be peculiar that sanction your addressing a lady with whom you are unacquainted, in a public parlor, or the like, you are not required by convention to appear so wholly unconscious of her presence as to retain your seat just in front of the only fire in the room on a cold day, in the only comfortable chair, or a place so near the only airy window on a hot one, as to preclude her approach to it. nor are you bound to sit in one seat and keep your legs across another, on the deck of a steamer, in a railroad car, in a tavern, at a public exhibition, while women _stand_ near you, compelled by your _not knowing_ them! let me hope, too, that no kinsman of mine will ever feel an inclination, when appealed to for information in some practical emergency, by one of the dependent sex, to repulse her with laconic coldness, though the appeal should chance when he is hurrying along the public highway of life, or through the most secluded of its by-paths. few young men, i must believe, ever remember when in a large hotel, at night, with their companions, that--opening into the corridors through which they tramp like a body of mounted cavalry upon a foray, with appropriate musical accompaniments--may be the apartments of the weary and the sick; or, that, separated from the room in which they prolong their nocturnal revels, by only the thinnest of partitions, lies a timid and lonely woman, shrinking and trembling more and more nervously at each successive burst of mirth and song, or worse, that effectually robs her of repose. yet sir walter raleigh, or sir philip sidney, might, perchance, have thought even such a trifling peccadillo not un-note-worthy. the same general rules that are applicable to manner in public places, at hotels, etc., are almost equally so in _travelling_, modified only by circumstances and good sense. a due consideration for the rights and feelings of others, will be a better guide to true politeness than a whole battery of conventionalisms. courtesy to ladies, to age, to the suffering, will here, as ever, mark the true gentleman, as well as that habitual refinement which interdicts the offensive use of tobacco, where women sit or stand, or any other slovenliness or indecorum. under such circumstances, as many others in real life, never let cold ceremony deter you from rendering a real service to a fellow-being, though you readily avail yourself of its barriers to repel impertinence or vulgarity. it is authentically recorded of one of the loyal subjects of the little crowned lady over the ocean, that, as soon as he was restored to the privileges of civilization, after having been cast away upon a desert island with only one other person, he at once challenged his companion in misfortune for having spoken to him, during their mutual exile, without an introduction! should you indulge in any skepticism respecting the literal truthfulness of this historical record, i can personally vouch for the following: our eccentric and unhappy countryman, the gifted poet, p----, was once, while travelling, roused from a moody and absorbing reverie, by the address of a stranger, who said: "sir, i am mr. w----, the author--you have no doubt heard of me." the dreamy eye of the contemplative solitaire lighted with a sudden fire, as he deliberately scrutinized the intruder, then quickly contracting each feature so that his physiognomy changed at once to a very respectable imitation of a spy-glass, he coolly inquired: "_who the devil did you say you are?_" practice and tact combined, can alone give a man ease and grace of manner amid the varying demands of social life, but systematic attention to details will soon simplify whatever may seem formidable in regard to it. no one but a fool or a monomaniac goes on stumbling through his allotted portion of existence, when he may easily learn to go without stumbling at all, or only occasionally. thus, after experiencing the embarrassment of keeping ladies, with whom you have been driving in a hired carriage, standing in the rain, or sun, or in a jostling crowd, while you are waiting for change to pay your coach, or submitting to extortion, or searching for your purse, you will, perhaps, resolve, when you are next so circumstanced, to ascertain before-hand, if possible, exactly what you should lawfully pay, to have your money ready before reaching your final destination, and to leave the ladies seated in quiet while you alight, pay your fare and then secure shawls, etc., and make every other arrangement and inquiry that will facilitate their speedy and comfortable transit from the carriage. thus much for _manner in public_. now then, a few words relative to the bearing proper in social intercourse, and i will release you. in the character of _host_, much is requisite that would be unsuitable elsewhere, since the youngest and most modest man must, of necessity, then take the lead. thus, when you have guests at dinner, some care and tact are required in the simple matter, even, of disposing of your visitors with due regard to proper precedents. of course, when there are only men present, you desire him whom you wish to distinguish, to conduct the mistress of the mansion to the table, and are, yourself, the last to enter the dining-room. when there are ladies, the place of honor accorded to age, rank, or by some temporary relative circumstance, is designated as being at your right hand, and you precede your other guests, in attendance upon such a lady. a stranger lady, for whom an entertainment is given, should be met by her host before she enters the drawing-room, and conducted to the hostess. a gentleman, under similar circumstances, must be received at the door of the reception-room. in both instances, introductions should at once be given to those who are _invited to meet such guests_. persons living in large cities may, if they possess requisite pecuniary means, always procure servants so fully acquainted with the duties properly belonging to them as to relieve themselves, when they have visitors, from all attention to the details of the table. but it is only in the best appointed establishments that hospitality does not enjoin some regard to these matters. it may be unfashionable to keep an eye to the comfort of one's friends, when we are favored with their company, to consult their tastes, to humor their peculiarities, to convince them, by a thousand nameless acts of consideration and deference, that we have pleasure in rendering them honor due;--this may not be in strict accordance with the cold ceremony of modern fashion, but it, nevertheless, illustrates one of the most beautiful of characteristics--one ranked by the ancients as a _virtue_--hospitality! permit me, also, to remind you that sometimes the most worthy people are not high-bred--not familiar with conventional proprieties; that they even have a dread of them, on account of this ignorance; and that they are, therefore, not fit subjects towards whom to display strict ceremony, or from whom to expect it. but always remember, that, though they may not understand conventionalisms, they will fully appreciate genuine _kindness_, the talismanic charm that will always place the humblest and most self distrustful guest at ease. and never let a vulgar, degrading fear of compromising your claims to gentility, tempt you to the inhumanity of wounding the feelings of the humblest of your humble friends! if you have a large rout at your house, it will, necessarily, be impossible for you to render special attention to each guest; but you should, notwithstanding, quietly endeavor to promote the enjoyment of the company, by bringing such persons together as are best suited to the appreciation of each other's society, by drawing out the diffident, tendering some civility to an elderly, or particularly unassuming visitor, and, in short, by a manner that, without in any degree savoring of over-solicitude, or bustling self-importance, shall save you from a fate similar to that of a gentleman of whom i lately read the following anecdote: a stranger at a large party, observing a gentleman leaning upon the corner of a mantel-piece, with a peculiarly melancholy expression of countenance, accosted him thus:--"sir, as we both seem to be entire strangers to all here, suppose we both return home?" he addressed his _host_! in general society, do not let your pleasure in the conversation of one person whom you may chance to meet, or your being attached to a pleasant party, tempt you to forget the respect due to other friends, who may be present. married ladies, whose hospitalities you have shared, strangers who possess a claim upon you, through your relations with mutual friends, gentlemen whose politeness has been socially extended to you, should never be rudely overlooked, or discourteously neglected. such a manner would indicate rather a vulgar eagerness for selfish enjoyment than the collected self-possession, the well-sustained good-breeding, of a _man of the world_. do not let a sudden attack of the modesty suitable to youth and insignificance, induce you to regard those proprieties as of no importance in your particular case--exclaiming, "what's hecuba to me, or i to hecuba?" believe me, no one is so unimportant as to be unable to give pleasure by politeness; and no one having a place in society, has a right to self-abnegation in this respect. * * * * * "husband, do you know a young mr. v----, in society here--a lawyer, i think?" inquired a lady-friend of mine, of a distinguished member of the legislature of our state, with whom i was dining, at his hotel. "v----? that i do! and a right clever fellow he is:--why, my dear?" "oh, nothing, i met him somewhere the other morning, and was struck with his pleasing manners. this morning i was really indebted to his politeness. you know how slippery it was--well, i had been at mrs. s----'s reception, and was just hesitating on the top of the steps, on coming away, afraid to call the man from his horses, and fearful of venturing down alone, when mr. v---- ran up, like a chamois-hunter, and offered his assistance. he not only escorted me to the sleigh, but tucked up the furs, gave me my muff, and inquired for your health with such good-humor and cordiality as really quite won my heart!" "i should be exceedingly jealous, were it not that he made exactly the same impression upon me, a few evenings before you joined me here. it was at miss t----'s wedding. of course, i had a card of invitation to the reception, after the ceremony, but, disliking crowds as i do, and as you were not here, i decided not to go.--the truth is, colonel, [turning to me] we backwoodsmen are a little shy of these grand state occasions of ceremony and parade."-- "backwoodsmen, as you are pleased to term them, sometimes confer far more honor upon such occasions than they upon him," returned i. "you are very polite, sir. well, as i was saying, in the morning i met the bride's father, who was one of my early college friends, in the street, and he urged me, with such old-fashioned, hearty cordiality to come, that i began to think the homely charm of _hospitality_ might not be wholly lacking, even at a fashionable entertainment, in this most fashionable city. so the upshot of the matter was my going, though with some misgivings about my _court-costume_, as my guardian-angel had deserted me." really, boys, i wish you could have seen the chivalrous courtesy that lighted the fine eye and shone over the manner of the speaker, as, with these last words, he bowed to the fair companion of his life for something like half a century. "you forget, my dear," rejoined the lady, as a soft smile, and a softer blush stole over her still beautiful face, "that mrs. m---- wrote me you were quite the lion of the occasion, and that half the young ladies present, including the bride herself, were"-- "my dear! i cry you mercy!--bless my soul!--an old fellow like me!"---- "but k----, my dear friend," i exclaimed, "don't be personal"---- "lunettes, you were always, and still are, irresistible with the ladies, but--you are _an exception_." "i protest!" cried mrs. k----, joining in our laughter, "mr. clay, to his latest day, was in high favor with ladies, young and old--there was no withstanding the _charm of his manner_. at washington, one winter that i spent there, wherever i met him, he was encircled by the fairest and most distinguished of our sex, all seeming to vie with each other for his attentions--and this was not because of his political rank, for others in high position did not share his popularity;--it was his grace, his courtesy, his _je ne sais quoi_, as the french say." "mr. clay was as remarkable for quiet self-possession and tact, in social as in public life," said i. "when i had the honor to be his colleague, i often had occasion to observe and admire both. i remember once being a good deal amused by a little scene between him and a miss ----, then a reigning belle at washington, and a great favorite of mr. clay's. returning late one night from the capitol, excessively fatigued by a long and exciting debate, in which he had borne an active part, he dropped into the ladies' parlor of our hotel, on his way up stairs, hoping, i dare say, mrs. k., to enjoy the soothing influence of gentler smiles and tones than those he had left. the room was almost deserted, but, ensconced in one corner of a long, old-fashioned sofa, sat miss ----, reading. his keen eye detected his fair friend in a moment, and his lagging step quickened as he approached her. a younger and handsomer man might well have envied the warm welcome he received. after sitting a moment beside the lady, mr. clay said, abruptly:-- "'miss ----, what is your definition of true politeness?' "'perfect ease,' she replied. "'i have the honor to agree with you, madam, and, with your entire permission, will take leave to assume the correctness of _this position_!' as he spoke, with a dextrous movement, the statesman disposed a large cushion near miss ----'s end of the sofa, and simultaneously, down went his head upon the cushion, and up went his heels at the other extreme of the sofa! but, my dear fellow, we are losing your adventures at the great wedding party, all this time"---- "very true, my dear," added mrs. k----, wiping her eyes, "you fell in love with mr. v----, you know"-- "oh, yes," returned my host, "i did, indeed; but i had no adventures, in particular. v---- was one of the _aids-de-camp_, on the occasion, as i knew by the white love-knot (what is the fashionable name, wife?) he wore on his breast. he was in the hall when i came down stairs, to act in his office of groomsman. upon seeing me, he advanced, and asked whether he could be of any service to me. i explained, while i drew on my gloves, that i did not know the bride, and feared that even her mother might have forgotten an early friend. his young eyes found the button of my glove quicker than mine, and as he released my hand, he said, showing a sad rent in his own, "you are fortunate in not having split them, sir,--but you _gentlemen of the old school_," he added with a respectful bow, "always surpass us youngsters in matters of dress, as well as everything else." as he said this, the young rogue glanced politely over my plain black suit, and offered me his arm as deferentially as though i had been an ex-president, at least; and so on, throughout the evening, with apparent _unconsciousness of self_. i should have thought him wholly devoted to my enjoyment of everything and everybody, had i not observed that others, equally, or more, in need of his attention than i, shared his courtesy--from an elderly lady in a huge church-tower of a cap, who seemed fearfully exercised less she should not secure her full share of the wedding-cake boxes, to one of the little sisters of the bride, who clung to her dress and sobbed as if her heart must break--all seemed to like him and _depend_ on him." "i have not the pleasure of mr. v----'s acquaintance," said i, "but i prophesy that _he will succeed in life_!" "yes, and make friends at every step!" responded mrs. k----, warmly. "after we parted this morning, i had an agreeable sort of half-consciousness that something pleasant had happened to me, and when i analised the feeling, wordsworth's lines seemed to have been impersonated to me:-- 'a face with gladness overspread! soft smiles, by human kindness bred! and seemliness complete, that sways thy courtesies, about thee plays!'" * * * * * i have known few persons with as exquisite æsthetical perceptions as my lovely friend minnie. so i promised myself great pleasure in taking her to see cole's celebrated series of pictures--the course of time. it was soon after cole's lamented death; and, as minnie had been some time living where she was deprived of such enjoyments, she had never seen these fine pictures. as we drove along towards the art union gallery, the fair enthusiast was all eager expectation. "how often my kind friend mr. s---- b. r----, used to talk to me of cole," said she, "and promise me the pleasure of knowing him. when he died i felt as though i had lost a dear friend, as i had indeed, for all who worship art, have a friend in each child of genius." "cole was emphatically one of these," returned i, "as his conceptions alone prove." "yes, indeed," replied minnie, "i always think of him as the _poet-painter_, since i saw his first series--the 'progress of empire.' only a poet's imagination could conceive his subjects." i placed my sweet friend in the most favorable position for enjoying each picture in succession, and seated myself at her side, rather for the gratification of listening to the low murmurs of delight that should be breathed by her kindred soul, than to view the painter's skill, as that no longer possessed the attraction of novelty for me. we had just come to the sublime portraiture of "_manhood_," and minnie seemed wholly absorbed in her own thoughts and imaginings. suddenly a silly giggle broke the charmed stillness. the devotee of the beautiful started, as if abruptly awakened from a dream, and a slight shiver ran through her sensitive frame. turning, i perceived, standing close behind us, a group of young persons, chattering and laughing, and pointing to different parts of the picture before us. their platitudes were not, perhaps, especially stupid, nor were they more noisy and rude than i have known _free-born republicans_ before, under somewhat similar circumstances; but poor minnie endured absolute torture; her idealized delight vanished before a coarse reality. i well remember the imploring and distressed look with which she whispered: "let us go, dear colonel;" and one glance at her pale face satisfied me that the spell was irrevocably broken for her, and that her long anticipated "joy," in beholding "a thing of beauty" had indeed been cruelly alloyed. if my memory serves me aright, i told you something, in a former letter, of an interesting lady, a friend of mine, whose husband was shot all to pieces in the mexican war, and after lying for many months in an almost hopeless condition, finally so far recovered as to be removed to the sea-board, to take ship for new orleans. when informed of this, his beautiful young wife--a belle, a beauty, and the petted idol of a large family circle before her marriage--set out, at mid-winter, accompanied by one of her brothers and taking with her the infant-child, whom its soldier-father had never seen, to meet her husband on his homeward route. this explanation will render intelligible the following incident, which she herself related to me. "my brother remained with us some time at new orleans," said the fair narrator; "but, as ernest began to improve, i entreated him to return home, as both his business and his family demanded his attention; and you know, colonel lunettes," she added, with a sad smile, "that a _soldier's wife_ must learn to be brave, for her own sake as well as for his. ernest had with him an excellent, faithful servant, who was fully competent to such service as i could not render, and my little boy's nurse was with me, of course. so we made our homeward journey by slow stages, but with less suffering to my husband than we could have hoped, and i grew strong as soon as we were re-united, and felt adequate to anything, almost." the fair young creature added the last word with the same mournful smile that had before flitted over her sweet face, and as if rather in reply to the doubtful expression she read in my countenance, than from any remembrance of having failed, in the slightest degree, in the task of which she spoke. "on the night of our arrival at a----, however," pursued mrs. v----, "we seemed to reach such a climax of fatigue and trial, as to make further endurance literally impossible for poor ernest. our little child had been taken ill the day before, so that i could not devote myself so entirely to him as i could have wished; and, as we drew near home, his impatience seemed to increase the pain of his wounds, so that, on this evening, he was almost exhausted both in body and mind. we stopped at the d---- house, as being nearest the depot, which was a great point with us; but such a comfortless, shiftless place!"---- "an abominable hole!" i ejaculated; "one never gets anything fit to eat there!" "that was the least of our difficulties," returned the lady, "as we had to leave our man-servant to look after our luggage, it was with great difficulty that my poor husband was assisted up stairs into the public parlor, and he almost fainted while i gave a few hurried directions about a room. such a scene as it was! the poor baby, weary and sleepy, began to cry for mamma, and nurse had as much as she could do with the care of him. ernest had sunk down upon the only sofa in the room--a huge, heavy machine of a thing, that looked as though never designed to be moved from its place against the wall. i gave my husband a restorative, but in vain. he grew so ghastly pale that"----a sob here choked the utterance of the speaker. "my dear child," said i, taking her hand, "do not say another word; i cannot forgive myself for asking you these particulars--all is well now--do not recall the past!" "excuse me, dear colonel, i _wish_ to tell you, i want you to know, how we were treated by a brute in human form--to ask you whether you could have believed in the existence of such a being--so utterly destitute of common politeness, not to say humanity." "i hope no one who could aid you, in this extremity, failed to do so." "you shall hear. ernest was shivering with cold, as well as exhaustion, and whispered to me that he would try to sit by the fire until the room was prepared. i looked round the place for an easy-chair; there was but one, and that was occupied by a man who was staring at us, as though we were curiosities exhibited for his especial benefit." "'ernest,' said i aloud, 'you are too weak to sit in one of these chairs without arms, and with nothing to support your head.' "'i will try, love,' he replied, 'for i am so cold!' "'i will ask that man for his chair,' i whispered. poor ernest! his eyes flashed. 'no! no!' said he, 'if he has not the decency to offer it, you shall not speak to him!' "of course, i would not irritate him by opposition, but placed an ordinary chair before the fire, and, supporting him into it, held his head on my shoulder, while i chafed his benumbed hands. in the meanwhile, the wail of the baby did not help to quiet us, nor to shorten the time of waiting; and it seemed as if john would never make his appearance, nor the room i had ordered be prepared. by my direction, nurse rang the bell. i inquired of the very placid individual who answered it, whether the room was ready for us, and upon being told that they were making the fire, entreated the emblem of serenity to hasten operations, and at once to bring me a cup of hot tea. minutes seemed hours to me, as you may suppose, and the dull eyes that were fastened upon us from the centre of the stuffed chair, i so longed for, really made me nervous. i felt as though it might be some horrid ghoul, rather than anything human, thus looking upon our misery. 'good g----, lu!' said ernest, at last, 'isn't the bed ready yet?' "i could bear it no longer. gently withdrawing my support from the weary, weary head, i flew to my boy, snatched him from nurse, and signifying my design to her, we united our powers, and, laying baby on the sofa, we succeeded in pushing it up to the side of the fire-place. then, while i hushed the child on my breast, we piled up our wrappings and placed my husband upon the couch, so as to rest his poor wounded frame (you know, colonel, his spine was injured). the groan, half of relief and half of torture, that broke from his lips, as he rested his head, was like to be the 'last straw' that broke my heart--but the soldier's wife! how often did i repeat to myself, during that long journey: 'remember thou'rt a _soldier's wife_, those tears but ill become thee!' "well! by this time, john made his appearance, and, consigning his master temporarily to his care, i took nurse with me, and went to see what a woman's ready hand could do in expediting matters elsewhere. when showed to the room we were expected to occupy, i found it so filled with smoke, and so dreadfully cold, as to be wholly uninhabitable, and in despair sent for the steward, or whoever he was, to whom i had given directions at first. no other room with two beds could be secured. by the glimmering light of the small lamp in the hand of the irishman, who was laboring with the attempt at a fire, i investigated a little; the smouldering coals belched forth volumes of smoke into my face. nothing daunted by this ('twas not the 'smoke of battle,' though i felt as though in the midst of a conflict of life and death), i bade the man remove the blower. behold the draught closed by the strip of stone sometimes used for that purpose, after a hard coal fire is fully ignited! i think, colonel, you would have admired the laconic, imperiously cool tone and manner with which i speedily effected the removal of the entire mass of cold hard coal, substituted for it, light, dry wood, and covering up my boy, as he still rested in my arms, dissipated the smoke that contended with the close, shut-up sort of air in the room, for disagreeability, by opening the windows, had the most comfortable looking of the beds drawn near the fire, and opened to air and warm, ordered up the trunks we wanted, opened them, hung a warm flannel dressing-gown near the fire, placed his slippers and everything else ernest would want just _where_ they would be wanted, near the best chair i could secure, and the table that was to receive his supper when he should be ready for it, and, in short _put the matter through_, as ernest would say, with the speed of desperation. it was wonderful how quickly all this, and more, was effected by the people about me chiefly through my ability to tell them exactly what to do and how to do it. excuse me if i boast; it was the deep calmness of despair that inspired me! _now_ i can smile at the look of blank amazement with which paddy received my announcement of the necessity of taking out all the coals from the grate, before he could hope to kindle a fire, and the stare of the _man of affairs_ for the d---- house, as he entered upon the field of my efforts to say that tea was ready." "there is but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous!" i exclaimed, laughing, in spite of my sympathy with my fair friend. "and what became of the barbarian in the large chair?" "oh, when i returned to the parlor to have ernest removed to our own room, there he sat, still, lolling comfortably back in his chair, with his hat on, and his feet laid up before him, and apparently as much occupied as ever in staring at the strangers, and no more 'on hospitable thoughts intent' than when i quitted the room, the horrid ghoul! i was so rejoiced to escape with my treasures safe from his blighting gaze! but now for the _moral_ of my story, dear colonel, for every story has its moral, i suppose,--john, ernest's man, told nurse, who, by the way, was so highly indignant on the occasion, as to assure me afterwards, that if she had been a man, she'd have just pitched the selfish brute beast out of the chair, and taken it for mr. v----, without so much as a 'by your leave.'"---- i could not refrain from interrupting mrs. ---- to say that i thought i should have been sorely tempted to some such act myself, under the circumstances. "yes," pursued mrs. v----, "nurse still recurs to that 'awful cold night in a----' with an invariable malediction upon the '_bad speret_ as kept the chair.' but, as i was saying, john told her afterwards that the ghoul asked him who that sick gentleman was, and said that his wife appeared to be in so much trouble that he should have offered to help her along a little, but he _wasn't acquainted with her_!" "uncle hal, isn't an artist _a gentleman_?" inquired blanche of me one morning, during a recent visit to our great commercial metropolis, as the newspaper writers call it. "what do you mean, child," said i, "you cannot mean to ask whether artists _rank as gentlemen_ in society, for that does not admit of question." i saw there was something troubling her, the moment she came down, for she did not welcome her old uncle with her usual sparkling smile, though she snugged close up to me on the sofa, and kept my hand in both of hers, while we were arranging some matters about which i had called. "is not an _engraver_ an artist?" she inquired, with increased earnestness of tone. "does not an engraver who has a large _atelier_, numbers of _employés_, and does all kinds of beautiful prints, heads, and landscapes, and elegant figures, take rank in social life with other gentlemen?" "certainly, my dear; but tell me what you are thinking of; what troubles you my child?" "well, you remember, dear uncle, perhaps, the young orphan boy in whom papa and all of us used to be so interested the summer you spent with us, long ago, when we were all children at home. he is now established in this city, after years of struggle with difficulties that would have crushed a less noble spirit, and his sisters, for whom he has always provided, in a great degree, though at the cost of almost incredible self-denial, as i happen to know, are now nearly prepared for teachers. we have always retained our interest in them all; and they always make us a visit when they are at d----. indeed, papa always says he knows few young men for whom he entertains so high a regard; and i am sure he is very good-looking, and though he may not be very fashionable,--you needn't smile, uncle hal, i"---- "my dear, i am charmed with your sketch, and shall go, at once, and have my old visage engraved by your handsome artist-friend; and when i publish my auto-biography, it shall be accompanied by a 'portrait of the author,' superbly engraved by a 'celebrated artist.'" "he _is_ celebrated, uncle, really; you have no idea of the vast number of orders he has from all parts of the country, nor how beautifully he gets up everything. but i must tell you," proceeded the sensitive little thing, with more cheerfulness, for i had succeeded in my design of cheering her up a little--"mr. zousky--henry, as we always call him, has been engraving the head of one of our friends at home for a literary affair--some biographical book, or something of that sort, and he came up to show me one of the 'first impressions,' as i think he calls them, and to bring a message from his sister, last evening--wishing me to '_criticise_,' he told me, as he had nothing but rather an indifferent daguerreotype to copy from. it was just before tea that he called--because he is busy all day, i suppose, and perhaps, he thought he should be sure of finding me, then. indeed, he said something about fearing to intrude later, when there might be other visitors--he is the most sensitive and unobtrusive being! well, just as we were having a nice little chat about old times at d----, cousin charles came home and came into the parlor. of course, he knows henry very well, for he has seen him often and often at our house, when he used to be there in vacations with my brothers; and, indeed, once before henry came here to live, was one of a party of us, who went to his little studio, to see his self-taught paintings and sketches. when he entered the room, i said, 'cousin charles, our friend mr. zousky does not need an introduction to you, i am sure.' i cannot describe his manner. i did not so much mind its being cold and indifferent, but it was not that of _an equal_--of one gentleman to another, and without sitting down, even for a moment, he walked back to the dining-room, and i heard him ask the servant whether tea was ready. henry rose in a moment, and took my hand to say good-bye--oh, uncle, i cannot tell you how hurt i was! his voice was as low and gentle as ever, but his face betrayed him! i know he noticed cousin charles' manner. i was determined that he should not go away so; so i didn't get up, but drew him to a seat by me on the sofa, and said that he must not go yet, unless he had an engagement, for that i had not half done telling him what i wished, and rattled on, hardly knowing what i _did_ say, for i was so grieved and mortified. he said he would come again, as it was my tea-time, but i insisted that my tea was of no consequence, and that i much preferred talking to a friend--all the while hoping that either cousin maria or cousin charles would come and invite him to take tea. presently i heard cousin maria come down, and then the glass doors were closed between the rooms, and i knew they were at tea. why, uncle hal, papa would no more have done such a thing in _his_ house, than he would have robbed some one! what! wound the feelings of any one for fear of not being '_genteel!_' that's the word, i suppose--i hear cousin maria use it very often! we were always taught by dear mamma, while she lived, to be particularly polite and attentive to those who might not be as happy or prosperous as ourselves. she used to say that fashionable and distinguished people were the least likely to observe those things, but that the sensitive and self-distrustful were apt to be almost morbidly alive to every indication of neglect. 'never brush rudely by the human sensitive plant, my dears,' she used to say, 'lest you should bruise the tender leaves; and never forget that it most needs the _sunshine of smiles_!' dear mamma! she used to be so polite to henry--not _patronizing_, but so friendly, so considerate--always she put him at ease when there was other company at our house (though he never came in when he knew there were other visitors), and she used to do so many kind things to assist his first efforts in his art! i only hope he understood that _i_ have no rights here. i am sure i _feel_ that i have not! but i would rather be treated a hundred times over again as i was last night, myself, than to have henry's feelings wounded; still, i must say that i should not think, because she happened to be detained past the exact tea-hour, of sending away the tea-things and keeping cold slops in a pitcher for any guest in _my_ house, if i had one"---- "hush, blanche! i never heard you talk so indiscreetly before!" "well, i don't care! papa _made_ me come here to stay, because he said they had visited us, and came out to bel's wedding, and all; but i do so wish i was at the st. nicholas with you and the clarks, uncle, dear! cousin charles ain't like himself since he married his fashionable new york wife; even when he comes to pa's he isn't, though _there_ he throws off his cold, ceremonious manner somewhat. but i really feel as if i was in a straight-jacket here!" "why, blanche, what's the trouble? i am sure everything is very elegant and fashionable here!" "yes, too elegant and fashionable for poor little me! i am not used to that, and don't care for it. i'd rather have a little more friendliness and sociability than all the splendor. i am constantly reminded of my utter insignificance; and you know, uncle, poor blanche is spoiled, as you often say, and not used to being reduced to a mere nonentity!" with this the silly child actually began to cry, and when i tried to soothe her, only sobbed out, in broken words: "i wouldn't be such a goose as to mind it, if henry zousky had not been treated so so, so--_so--fash-ion-a-bly_!" looking over some letters from a sprightly correspondent of mine, the other day, i laid aside one from which i make the following extract, as apposite to my subject: "you asked me to give you some account of the social position, etc., and an idea of the husband of your former favorite, m---- s----. 'what is dr. j---- like?' you inquire:--like nothing in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, i answer; and, therefore, he might be worshipped without a violation of the injunction of the decalogue! how such a vivacious creature as m---- s---- came to tie herself for life to such a mule, passes my powers of solution. dr. j---- is very accomplished in his profession, for a young man, i hear, and much respected for his professional capacity--but socially he is--_nothing!_--the merest cipher conceivable! a man may be _very quiet_ at home, now-a-days, and yet pass muster; but there are times when he _must act_, as it seems to me; but m----'s husband seems to be a _man of one idea_, and that never, seemingly, suggests the duties of host. but you shall judge for yourself.--while i was in a----, we were all invited there one evening, to meet a bride, an old friend of m----'s, stopping in town on her marriage tour. m---- said it was too early in the season for a large party, and that we were expected quite _en famille_; but it was, in reality, quite an occasion, nevertheless, as the bride and her party were fashionable bostonians. i happened to be near the hostess, when _the_ guests of the evening entered. she received them with her usual _frenchy_ ease and playfulness of manner, and it seemed that the gentleman was an old friend of hers, but did not know her husband. he expressed the hope that dr. j----'s professional duties would not deprive them of his society the whole evening, as he much desired the pleasure of his acquaintance. i saw, by the heightening of her color, that m----, woman of the world though she be, felt the unintended sarcasm of this polite language; for dr. j. was calmly ensconced in the deep recess of a large _fauteuil_ in the corner of the fire-place, apparently enjoying the glowing coal-fire that always adds its cheerful influence to the elegant belongings of m----'s splendid drawing-room. throughout the entire evening our effigy of a host kept his post, where we found him on entering. people went to him, chatted a while, and moved away; we danced, refreshments were served, wine was quaffed, 'all went merry as a marriage bell;' m---- glided about from group to group, with an appropriate word, or courteous attention for each one, and, in addition to the flowers that adorned the rooms, presented the bride of her old friend with an exquisite bouquet, saying, in her pretty way, that she would have been delighted to receive her in a bower of roses, when she learned from mr. ---- how much she liked flowers, but that flora was in a pet with her since she had given up her old conservatory at her father's. as the evening waned, i observed her weariness, despite the hospitable smile; and well she might be! several times she slipped away to her babe; once, when i stood near her, she started slightly: 'i thought i heard a _nursery-cry_,' she whispered to me, 'my little boy is not well to-night;' and i missed her soon after. when i went away, i, of course, sought the master of the house to say good-night. he half rose, with a half smile, in recognition of my adieu, and re-settled himself, apparently wholly unconscious of any possible occasion for further effort! but the climax, in true epic style, was reserved for the _finale_. it was a frightfully stormy night, and when we came down to the street door to go away, there stood m----, in her thin dress, the cold wind and sleet-rain rushing in when the door was opened, enough to carry away her fairy figure, _seeing off her friend and his bride_!" * * * * * "my dear miss c----," exclaimed a gentleman after listening to the complaint of a lady who had just been charging the lords of creation with the habitual discourtesy of retaining their hats when speaking to ladies, in stores and shops, as well as in public halls and even in the drawing-room; "my dear miss c----, don't you know that 'young america' _always wears his hat and boots whenever he can_?" "does he _sleep in them_?" inquired the lady. "well, my dears," i overheard a high-bred and exceedingly handsome man inquiring of two lovely english girls, on board a steamer the other day, "how did you succeed in your efforts to dine to-day? i will not again permit you to be separated from your aunt and me, if we find the table ever so crowded." "but we had charley, you know, sir," returned one of the fair interlocutors, with a smile worthy of hebe herself. "true, but charley is only a child; and boys as well as women fare ill at public tables in this 'land of liberty and equality,' unless aided by some powerful assistant!" "i thought we had found such a champion to-day," exclaimed the other lady, "in the person who sat next me at dinner. his hands were so nice that i should not have objected in the least to his offering me such dishes as were within his reach, especially as there seemed to be no servant to attend us, and we really sat half through the first course without bread or water. having nothing else to do, for some time, i quietly amused myself with observing my courteous neighbor. so wholly absorbed did he seem in his own contemplations, so utterly oblivious of everything around him, except the contents of his heaped-up plate, that i soon became convinced that i had the honor to be in close proximity to a philosopher, at least, and probably to some fixed star in the realms of science!" "oh, clare! i am so sorry to tell you, but i learned afterwards, accidentally, that your profound-looking neighbor is--_a dentist_!" "and, therefore, accustomed only to the _most painful associations with the mouths of others_!" chimed in the aristocrat, laughing in chorus: "well, as our shrewd, sensible friend, the daughter of the siddons, used to say, after her return from america, 'if the americans profess to be all _equal_, they should be _equally well bred_!'" with a repetition of this doubly sarcastic apothegm, my dear friends, for the present, adieu! harry lunettes. letter vii. health, the toilet, etc. my dear nephews: since no man can fulfill his destiny as an actively-useful member of society without _health_, perhaps a few practical suggestions on this important subject may not be inconsistent with our present purpose. the only reliable foundation upon which to base the hope of securing permanent possession of this greatest of earthly blessings, is the early acquisition of _habits of temperance_. in a proper sense of the word, temperance is an all-inclusive term--it does not mean abstaining from strong drink, only, nor from over-eating, nor from any one form of self-indulgence or dissipation; but it requires _moderation in all things_, for its full illustration. it was this apprehension of the term that was truthfully exhibited in the long, useful, consistent life of our distinguished countryman, john quincy adams. habits formed in boyhood, in strict accordance with this principle, and adhered to in every varying phase of circumstance throughout his prolonged existence, were the proximate cause of his successful and admirable career. and what a career! how triumphantly successful, how worthy of admiration! more than half a century did he serve his country, at home and abroad, dying at last, with his armor on,--a watchman, faithful, even unto death, upon the ramparts of the citadel, where justice, truth, and freedom have found a last asylum. think you that the intellectual and moral purposes of his being could have been borne out by the most resolute exercise of will, but for the judicious training of the _physique_? or could the higher attributes of his nature have been developed, indeed, in conjunction with a body 'cabined, cribbed and confined' by the enervating influence of youthful self-indulgence? born on-- "stern new-england's rocky shore," no misnamed luxury shrouded his frame from the discipline of that teacher, "around whose steps the mountain breezes blow, and from whose countenance all the virtues gather strength." you are, doubtless, all familiar with mr. adams' habits of early rising, bathing, etc. the latter, even, he maintained until within two years of his death, bathing in an open stream each morning, if his locality permitted the enjoyment, at a very early hour. i have his own authority for the fact that he, during the different periods of his public sojourn abroad, laved his vigorous frame in almost every river of europe! franklin, too, ascribed his triumph over the obstacles that obstructed his early path to a strict adherence to the rules of temperance. and so, indeed, with most of the truly great men whose names illumine the pages of our country's history:--i might multiply examples almost _ad infinitum_, but your own reading will enable you to endorse the correctness of my assertion. since we have, incidentally, alluded to the _bath_, in connection with the example of mr. adams, let us commence the consideration of personal habits, with this agreeable and essential accessory of health. though authorities may differ respecting some minor details with regard to bathing, i believe medical testimony all goes to sanction its adoption by all persons, in some one of its modifications. constitutional peculiarities should always be consulted in the establishment of individual rules,--hence no general directions can be made applicable to all persons. the cold bath, though that most frequently adopted by persons in health, is, no doubt, injurious in some cases, and careful observation alone can enable each individual to establish the precise temperature at which his ablutions will be most beneficial. but, while the most scrupulous and unvarying regard for cleanliness should be considered of primary importance, the indiscreet use of the bath should be avoided with equal care. bishop heber, one of the best and most useful of men, sacrificed himself in the midst of a career of eminent piety, to an imprudent use of this luxury, arising either from ignorance or inadvertency. after rising very early to baptize several native converts recently made in india, the field of his labors, he returned to his bungalow in a state of exhaustion from excitement and abstinence, and, without taking any nourishment, threw himself into a bath, and soon after expired!--no one can safely resort to the bath when the bodily powers are much weakened, by whatever cause; and though it is unwise to use it directly after taking a full meal, it should not immediately precede the chief meal of the day, if that be taken at a late hour, and after prolonged abstinence and exertion. the _art of swimming_ early acquired, affords the most agreeable and beneficial mode of bathing, not to dwell upon its numerous recommendations in other respects; but when this enjoyment cannot be secured, nor even the luxury of an immersion bath, luckily for health, comfort, and propriety, the means of _sponge bathing_ may always be secured, at least in this country (wherever it has risen above barbarism), though i must say that frequently during my travels in england, and even through towns boasting good hotels, i found water and towels at a high premium, and very difficult of acquisition at that! sponging the whole person upon rising, either in cold or tepid water, as individual experience proves best, with the use of the turkish towel, or some similar mode of friction, is one of the best preparations for a day of useful exertion. this practice has collateral advantages, inasmuch as it naturally leads to attention to all the details of the toilet essentially connected with refinement and health--to proper care of the hair, teeth, nails, etc.,--in short, to a neat and suitable arrangement of the dress before leaving one's apartment in the morning. to slippered age belongs the indulgence of a careless morning toilet; but with the morning of life we properly associate readiness for action in some pursuit demanding steady and prolonged exertion, early begun, and with every faculty and attribute in full exercise. fashion sanctions so many varying modes of wearing or not wearing the _hair_, that no directions can be given in relation to it, except such as enjoin the avoidance of all fantastic dressing, and the observance of entire neatness with relation to it. careful brushing, together with occasional ablutions, will best preserve this natural ornament; and i would, also, suggest the use of such _pomades_ only as are most delicately scented. no gentleman should go about like a walking perfumer's shop, redolent, not of-- "sabean odors from the spicy shores of araby the blest," but of spirits of turpentine, musk, etc., 'commixed and commingled' in 'confusion worse confounded' to all persons possessed of a nicety of nervous organization. all perfumes for the handkerchiefs, or worn about the person, should be, not only of the most unexceptionable kind, but used in very moderate quantities. their profuse use will ill supply the neglect of the bath, or of the proper care of the teeth and general toilet. the _teeth_ cannot be too carefully attended to by those who value good looks, as well as health. and nothing tends more towards their preservation than the habitual use of the brush, before retiring, as well as in the morning. the use of some simple uninjurious adjunct to the brush may be well; but pure water and the brush, faithfully applied, will secure cleanliness--the great preservative of these essential concomitants of manly beauty. if you use tobacco--(and i fervently hope none of you who have not the habit will ever allow yourselves to acquire it!)--but if you are, unfortunately, enslaved by the habit, never omit to rinse the mouth thoroughly after smoking (i will not admit the possibility, that any _young man_, in this age of progressive refinement, is addicted to habitual _chewing_), and never substitute the use of a strong odor for this proper observance, especially when going into the society of ladies. smoke dispellers must yield the palm to the purifying effects of the unadulterated element, after all. the utmost nicety in the care of the _nails_, is an indispensable part of a gentleman's toilet. they should be kept of a moderate length, as well as clean and smooth. avoid all absurd forms, and inconvenient length, in cutting them, which you will find it easiest to do neatly while they are softened by washing, and the use of the nail-brush. properly fitted boots and shoes, together with frequent bathing, will best secure _the feet_ from the torturing excrescences by which poor mortals are so often afflicted. the addition of _salt_ to the foot-bath, if persevered in, will greatly protect them from the painful effects of over-walking, etc. i think that under the head of dress, in one of my earliest letters, i expressed my opinion regarding the essentials of refinement and comfort as connected with this branch of the toilet. i will only say, in this connection, that a liberal supply of linen, hosiery, etc., should be regarded as of more importance than outside display, and that the most enlightened economy suggests the employment of the best materials, the most skillful manufacturers, and the unrestrained use of these "aids and appliances" of gentleman-like propriety, comfort, and health. the best and surest mode of securing ample and certain leisure for needful attention to the minutiæ of the toilet is _early rising_, a habit that, in addition to the healthful influence it exerts upon the physique, collaterally, promotes the minor moralities of life in a wonderful degree, and really is one of the fundamentals of success in whatever pursuit you may be engaged. here, again, permit me to refer you to the examples of the truly great men of history--those of our own land will suffice--washington, franklin, adams, and, though inconsistent with his habits in some other respects, webster. of the latter, it is well known, that he did not trim the midnight lamp for purposes of professional investigation or mental labor of any kind, but rose early to such tasks, with body and mind invigorated for ready and successful exertion. i have seen few things from his powerful pen, more pleasingly written than his _eulogy upon morning_, as it may properly be called, though i don't know that to be the title of an article written by him in favor of our present theme, in which erudition and pure taste contend for supremacy with convincing argument. but to secure the full benefit of _early rising_, my young friends, you must also, establish the habit of _retiring early_ and regularly. no one dogma of medical science, perhaps, is more fully borne out by universal experience than this, that "two hours' sleep before midnight is worth all obtained afterwards." to seek repose before the system is too far over-taxed for quiet, refreshing rest, and before the brain has been aroused from the quiescence natural to the evening hours, into renewed and unhealthy action, is most consistent with the laws of health. and, depend upon it, though the elasticity of youthful constitutions may, for a time, resist the pernicious effects of a violation of these laws, the hour will assuredly come, sooner or later, to all, when the _lex talionis_ will be felt in resistless power. fashion and nature are sadly at war on this point, as i am fully aware; but the edicts of the one are immutable, those of the other are proverbially fickle. students, especially, should regard obedience to the wiser of the two as imperative. the mental powers, as well as the physical, demand this--the "_mind's eye_" as well as the organs of outward vision, will be found, by experiment, to possess the clearer and quicker discernment during those hours when, throughout the domains of nature, all is activity, healthfulness and visible beauty. and no peculiarity of circumstance or inclination will ever make that healthful which is _unnatural_. hence the wisdom of _establishing habits_ consistent with health, while no obstacle exists to their easy acquisition. there is an experiment on record made by two generals, each at the head of an army on march, in warm weather, over the same route. the one led on his troops by day, the other chose the cooler hours for advancing, and reposed while the sun was abroad. in all other respects, their arrangements were similar. at the end of ten or twelve days, the result convincingly proved that exertion even under mid-summer heat is most healthfully made while the stimulus of solar light sustains the system, and that sleep is most refreshing and beneficial in all respects when sought while the hush and obscurity of the outer world assist repose. but if, as the nursery doggerel wisely declares, "early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise," there must be united with this rational habit, others each equally important to the full advantage to be derived from all combined. among these, _exercise_ holds a prominent rank. as with the bath, this is most effectually employed for health before the system is exhausted by mental labor. among the numerous modes of exercise, none is so completely at command at all times and under all circumstances, as _walking_. but the full benefit of this exercise, is not often enjoyed by the inhabitants of cities, by reason of the impure air that is almost necessarily inhaled in connection with it. still, it is not impossible to obviate this difficulty by a little pains. the _early riser_ and the _rapid pedestrian_ may in general, easily secure time to seek daily one of the few and limited breathing-places that, though in this regard we are vastly inferior to europeans in taste and good sense, even our american cities supply, either, like what they indeed are, _lungs_, in the very centre of activity, or at no unapproachable distance from it. do not forget that vegetation, while it sends forth noxious influences _at night_, exales oxygen and other needful food for vitality, _in the morning_, especially; nor that an erect carriage, which alone gives unobstructed play to the organs of respiration and digestion, is requisite, together with considerable activity of movement, to secure the legitimate results of walking. students, and others whose occupations are of a sedentary character, sometimes adopt the practice of taking a long walk periodically. this is, no doubt, promotive of health, provided it is not at first carried to an extreme. all such habits should be gradually formed, and their formation commenced and pursued with due respect for physiological rules. mr. combe, the distinguished phrenologist--in his "constitution of man," i think, relates an instance of a young person, in infirm health and unaccustomed to such exertion, who undertook a walk of twenty miles, to be accomplished without interruption. the first seven or eight miles were achieved with ease and pleasure to the pedestrian, but thenceforth discomfort and final exhaustion should have been a sufficient warning to the tyro to desist from his self-appointed task. a severe illness was the consequence and punishment of his ignorant violation of physiological laws. by the way, i cannot too strongly recommend to your careful perusal the various works of dr. andrew combe, long the physician of the amiable king of belgium, in relation to that and kindred subjects. his "physiology as applied to mental health," is replete with practical suggestions and advice of the most instructive and important nature, as are also his "dietetics," etc. himself an incurable invalid, he maintained the vital forces through many years of eminent usefulness to others, only by dint of the most strenuous adherence to the strictest requirements of the science of the physique. the writings of his brother, mr. george combe, and especially the work i have just mentioned, the "constitution of man," also abound in lessons of practical usefulness, which may be adopted irrespective of his peculiar phrenological views. in the multitude of newer publications these admirable books are already half-forgotten, but my limited reading has afforded me no knowledge of anything superior to them, as text-books for the young. _riding_ and _driving_ need no recommendation to insure their popularity, as means of exercise. both have many pleasure and health-giving attractions. every young man should endeavor to acquire a thorough knowledge of both riding and driving, not from a desire to emulate the ignoble achievements of a horse-jockey, but as proper _accomplishments_ for a gentleman. the possession of a fine horse is a prolific source of high and innocent enjoyment, and may often be secured by those whose purses are not taxed for _cigars and wine_! nothing can be more exhilarating than the successful management of this spirited and generous animal, whether under the saddle or in harness! even plethoric, ponderous old dr. johnson, admitted that "few things are so exciting as to be drawn rapidly along in a post-chaise, over a smooth road, by a fine horse!" let me repeat, however, that young men should be content to promote health and enjoyment by the moderate, gentleman-like gratification of the pride of skill, in this respect. like many other amusements, though entirely innocent and unexceptionable when reasonably indulged in, its abuse leads inevitably to the most debasing consequences.--our dusty high-roads very ill supply the place of the extensive public parks and gardens that furnish such agreeable places of resort for both riding and driving, as well as for pedestrians, in most of the large cities of europe, but one may, at least, secure better air and more freedom of space by resorting to them than to the streets, for every form of exercise. and as it is a well established fact that agreeable and novel associations for both the eye and the mind are essential concomitants of beneficial exercise, we have every practical consideration united to good taste in favor of eschewing the streets whenever fate permits. "oh! how canst thou renounce the boundless store of charms which nature to her votaries yields,-- the warbling woodland, the resounding shore, the pomp of groves and garniture of fields; all that the genial ray of morning gilds, and all that echoes to the song of even, all that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, and all the dread magnificence of heaven;-- o! how canst thou renounce and hope to be forgiven!" beattie _eating_ and _drinking_ are too closely connected with our general subject of health, to be forgotten here. that regard for temperance which i have endeavored to commend to you, of course yields a prominent place to habits in these respects. in relation to _eating_, i strongly recommend the cultivation of _simple tastes_, and the careful avoidance of every indulgence tending towards sensuality. some knowledge of _dietetics_ is essential to the adoption of right opinions and practice on this point. for instance, no man should wait for dire experience to enforce the truths that roast and broiled meats possess the most nutritious qualities; that all _fried_ dishes are, necessarily, more or less unwholesome; that animal oils and fatty substances require stronger digestive force for their assimilation than persons of sedentary life usually possess; that warm bread, as a rule, is unsuited to the human stomach, etc., etc. no one should consider these matters unworthy of serious attention, though temporarily free from inconvenience arising from neglecting them. eventually, every human constitution will exhibit painful proofs of all outrages committed upon the laws by which its operations are governed; and the greater the license permitted in youth, the severer will be the penalty exacted in after years. ----"mind and body are so close combined, where health of body, health of mind you find." preserve, then, as you value the means of usefulness, the perfect play of your mental powers--so easily trammelled by the clogging of the machinery of the body--the unadulterated taste that is content with a sufficiency of wholesome, well-cooked food to satisfy the demands of healthful appetite. cultivate no love of condiments, sauces and stimulants; indulge no ambition to excel in dressing salads, classifying _ragouts_, or in demonstrating, down to the nicety of a single ingredient, the distinction between a home-made and an imported _pâté de foie gras_! distinctions such as these may suffice for the worn-out society of a corrupt civilization, but our countrymen--men--should shout excelsior! abstract rules in relations to the hours proper for taking meals, however carefully adapted to the security of health, in themselves considered, must, of necessity, give place to those artificially imposed by custom and convenience. thus, though the practice of _dining late_ is not sanctioned by hygeia, it admits of question, whether, as the usages of the business-world at present exists, it is not a wiser custom than any other permitted by circumstance. all who have given any attention to the subject know, that neither bodily nor mental labor can be either comfortably or successfully pursued directly after a full meal. hence, then, those whose occupations require their attention during several successive hours, may find the habit of dining after the more imperative labors of the day are accomplished, most conducive to health as well as convenience. still, it should not be forgotten, that long abstinence is likely to produce the exhaustion that tells so surely and seriously upon the constitution, of young persons especially. this may be prevented by taking, systematically, a little light, simple nutriment, sufficient to produce what is aptly termed the _stimulus of distention_ in that much abused organ--the stomach. this practice regularly adhered to, will also promote a collateral advantage, by acting as a security against the too keen sharpening of appetite that tends to repletion in eating, and which sometimes produces results similar to those exhibited by a boa-constrictor after dining upon a whole buffalo, swallowed without the previous ceremony of carving! one should never dine so heartily as to be unfitted for the subsequent enjoyment of society, or of the lighter pursuits of literature. _deliberate and thorough mastication_ will more beneficially, and quite as pleasurably, prolong the enjoyments of the table, as a more hurried disposal of a large quantity of food. and really i do not know how the most rigid economist of time, or the most self-sacrificing devotee either of mammon or of literature, can more judiciously devote an hour of each day than to the single purpose of _dining_! happily for those whose self-respect does not always furnish the sustaining power requisite for the maintenance of a principle, fashion no longer requires of any man the use of even _wine_, much less of stronger beverages. and with reference to the use of all alcoholic stimulants, as well as of tobacco, i would remind you that _those only who are not enslaved by appetite, are_ free! if you have acquired a liking for wine or tobacco, and would abjure either, or both, you will soon be convinced, by experiment, of the truth of dr. johnson's saying, of which, by the way, his own life furnished a striking illustration, that "_abstinence is easier than temperance_." to prolong arguments against the habits of smoking and drinking, were a work of supererogation, here. i will advance but one, which may, possibly, possess the merit of novelty. both have the effect, materially to limit our enjoyment of the presence and conversation of "heaven's last, best gift to man!" i cannot better dismiss this important topic than by quoting the following passage from the writings of sir walter raleigh: "except thou desire to hasten thy end, take this for a general rule--that thou never add any artificial heat to thy body by wine or spice, until thou find that time hath decayed thy natural heat; the sooner thou dost begin to help nature the sooner she will forsake thee, and leave thee to trust altogether to art." in my youth, advice to young men was constantly commingled--whatever its general tenor--with admonitions regarding the necessity for industry and perseverance in those who would achieve worldly success. in these utilitarian times, when all seem borne along upon a resistless current, hurrying to the attainment of some practical end, engrossed by schemes of political ambition, or devoted to the acquisition of wealth, a quiet looker-on--as i am wont to regard myself--is tempted to counsel "moderation in all things," contentment with the legitimate results of honorable effort, the cultivation of habits of daily relaxation from the severity of toil, of daily rest from the mental tension that is demanded for successful competition in the arena of life. the impression that _sleep_ is a sufficient restorative from the wearing effects of otherwise ceaseless labor, or that _change of occupation_ furnishes all the relief that nature requires in this respect, is, undoubtedly, erroneous. "the man," says an eminent student of humanity, "who does not now allow himself two hours for relaxation after dinner, will be _compelled_ to devote more time than that daily to the care of his health, eventually." to allow one's self to be so engrossed by any pursuit, however laudable in itself, as to reserve no leisure for the claims of society, of friendship, of taste, is so irrational as to need nothing but reflection to render it apparent. in a merely utilitarian view, it is unwise, since, as Æsop has demonstrated, the bow that is never unbent soon ceases to be fit for use; but there is, surely, a higher consideration, addressed to the reason of man. pope embodies it, in part, in the lines ----"god is paid when man receives, _to enjoy is to obey_!" to have an aim, a purpose in life, sufficiently engrossing to act as an incentive to the exercise of all the powers of being, is essential to health and happiness. but to pursue any one object to the exclusion of all considerations for self-culture and intellectual enjoyment, is destructive of everything worthy that name. they who devote all the exertions of youth and manhood to the acquisition of political distinction, or of gold, for instance--cherishing, meanwhile, a sort of arcadian dream of ultimately enjoying the pleasures of intellectual communion, or the charms of the natural world, when the heat and burden of the conflict of life shall be done--exhibit a most deplorable ignorance of the truth that they will possess in age only the crippled capacities that disuse has almost wholly robbed of vitality, together with such as are prematurely worn out by being habitually overtaxed. on the contrary, those who believe that "it is not all of life to live," and early establish a true standard of excellence, and acquaint themselves with the immutable laws of our being, will so commingle self-ennobling pursuits and enjoyments with industrious and well-directed attention to the needful demands of practical life, as to secure as much of _ever-present happiness_ as falls to the lot of humanity, together with the enviable retrospection of an exalted ambition, rightly fulfilled. they may also hope for the invaluable possession of intellectual and moral developments to be matured in that state of existence of which this is but the embryo. these are truisms, i admit, my young friends, yet the spirit of the age impels their iteration and re-iteration! burke's musical periods lamented the departure of the "age of chivalry." would that one gifted as he may revive the waning existence of the social and domestic virtues, and inspire my young countrymen with an ambition too lofty in its aspirations to permit the sacrifice of mental and moral powers, of natural affections, and immortal aspirations, upon the altars of mammon!--shrines now yearly receiving from our country a holocaust of sacrifices, to which battle-fields are as naught in comparison. but to return from this unpremeditated digression. natural tastes and individual circumstances must, to a considerable extent, determine the relaxations and amusements most conducive to enjoyment and health. you will scarcely need to be told that persons of sedentary habits, and especially those devoted to literary occupations, should make _exercise in the open air_ a daily recreation, and that it will best subserve the purposes of pleasure and health when united with the advantages arising from _cheerful companionship_. hence the superiority of walking, riding, driving, boating, and sporting in its various forms, to all in-door exercises and amusements--and especially to those tending rather to tax the brain than exercise the body--for those whose mental powers are most taxed by their avocations. on the other hand, there are those to whom the lighter investigations of literature and science afford the most appropriate relief from the toils of business. permit me, however, to enter my protest against the belief that a change from the labors and duties of city life to the close sleeping-rooms, the artificiality and excitement of a fashionable watering-place affords a proper and healthful relief to a weary body and an overwrought brain. life at a watering-place is no more an equivalent for the pure air, the simple habits, the wholesome food, the _repose of mind and heart_, afforded by unadulterated country life, than immersion in a bathing-tub is a satisfactory substitute for swimming in a living stream, or a contemplation of the most exquisite picture of rural scenes, for a glorious canter amid green fields and over breezy hills! nor will dancing half the night in heated rooms, late suppers, bowling-alleys and billiards, not to speak of still more objectionable indulgences, restore these devotees to study or business to their city-homes re-invigorated for renewed action, as will the least laborious employments of the farmer, the "sportive toil" of the naturalist, the varied enjoyments of the traveller amid the wonders of our vast primeval forests, or of the voyager who explores the attractions of our unrivalled chain of inland lakes. people who do their thinking by proxy, and regulate their enjoyments by the _on dit_ of the fashionable world, yearly spend money enough at some crowded resort of the _beau monde_ (heaven save the mark!) to enable them to make the tour of europe, or buy a pretty villa and grounds in the country, or do some deed "twice blessed," in that "it blesseth him that gives and him that takes." in scotland, in england, in the north of europe generally, men and women whose social position necessarily involves refinement of habits and education, go, in little congenial parties, into the mountains and among the lakes, visit spots renowned in song and story, collect specimens of the wonders of nature, "camp out," as they say at the west, eat simply, dress rationally--in short, _really rusticate_, in happy independence alike of the thraldom of fashion and the supremacy of convention. thus in the old world, among the learned, the accomplished, the high-born. here in young america--let the sallow cheek, the attenuated limbs, the dull eye and _blasé_ air of the youthful scions of many a noble old revolutionary stock, attest only too truly, a treasonous slavery to the most arbitrary and remorseless of tyrants! would that they may serve, at least, as beacons to warn you, seasonably, against adding yourselves to the denizens of haunts where "unwieldly wealth, and cumbrous pomp repose; and every want to luxury allied, and every pang that _folly pays to pride_!" * * * * * i would that all my young countrymen might have looked upon the last hours of my revered friend, john quincy adams, and thus learned the impressive lessons taught by that solemn scene; lessons that--to use his own appropriate language-- ----"bid us seize the moments as they pass, snatch the retrieveless sun-beam as it flies, nor lose one sand of life's revolving glass-- aspiring still, with energy sublime, by virtuous deeds to give _eternity to time_!"[ ] [ ] concluding lines of mr. adams' "address to the _sun-dial_ under the window of the hall of the house of representatives." it was, indeed, a fitting close of his long, noble life! faithful to his duty to his country, he maintained his post to the last, and fell, like a true defender of liberty--renouncing his weapons only with his life. borne from the arena of senatorial strife to a couch hastily prepared beneath the same roof that had so often echoed his words of dauntless eloquence, attended by mourning friends, and receiving the tender ministrations of the companion alike of his earlier and later manhood, the flickering lamp of life slowly expired. after, apparently, reviewing the lengthened retrospection of a temperate, rational, useful life, from the boyish years "whose distant footsteps echoed through the corridors of time," to the dying efforts of genius and patriotism, the hushed stillness of that hallowed chamber at length rendered audible the sublime words--"it is the last of earth! i am content!" i think it was during the administration of sir charles bagot, the immediate successor of lord durham, as governor general of the canadas, that i had the pleasure to dine one day, at the house of a distinguished civilian who held office under him, in company with the celebrated traveller l----, and his friend, the well-known e---- g---- w----, a man who, despite wealth, rank, and talent, paid a life-long penalty for a youthful error. there were, also, present several members of the provincial parliament, then in session at kingston, which was, at that time, the seat of government, and a number of ladies--those of the party of americans with whom i was travelling, and some others. the conversation, very naturally, turned upon the national peculiarities of the _yankees_--as the english call, not the inhabitants of new england alone, but the people of the north american states generally--in consequence of the fact that the world-wide traveller had just completed his first visit to our country. some one asked him a leading question respecting his impressions of us as a people, and more than one good-humored sally was given and parried among us. at length l---- said, so audibly and gravely as to arrest the attention of the whole company: "i have really but two serious faults to charge upon jonathan." "may we be permitted to inquire what those are?" returned i. "that he _repudiates his debts_, and _doesn't take time to eat his dinner_." when the general laugh had subsided, mr. w---- remarked that, except when at the best hotels in the larger cities, he had found less inducement for dining deliberately in the united states than in most civilized lands he had visited, in consequence of the prevalent bad cookery. "the words of goldsmith," said he,-- "'heaven sends us good meat, but the devil sends cooks!' were always present to my mind when at table there! they eschew honest cold roast beef, as though there were poison in meat but once cooked, served a second time, though hamlet is authority for _our_ taste in that respect.--the cold venison you did me the honor to compliment so highly, at lunch, this morning, l----, would have been offered you _fried_ by our good yankee cousins!" "the patron saint of _la cuisine_ forefend!" cried a smooth-browed englishman--"not re-cooked, i hope?" "assuredly!" returned w----, "i trust these ladies and colonel lunettes will pardon me,--but such infamous stupidity is quite common. i soon learned, however, the secret of preserving my "capacious stomach" in unimpaired capacity for action, [an irresistibly comic glance downward upon his portly person] and could, i thought, very readily explain-- 'what is't that takes from _them_ their stomach, pleasures, and their golden sleep, why they do bend their eyes upon the earth, * * * * * in thick ey'd musing and curs'd melancholy!'" if the frank denunciations of this eccentric observer of life and manners might otherwise have been regarded as impolite, his more severe comments upon his own countrymen proved, at least, that no national partiality swayed his judgment. i remember his telling me the following anecdote, as we chatted over our coffee, after joining the ladies in the evening:--in answer to some inquiry on my part, respecting the social condition of _the people_--the peasantry, as he called them, of the provinces, he spoke in unmitigated condemnation of their ignorance, and especially of their insolence and boorishness. "get l---- to tell you," said he, "how nearly he and his servants were frozen to death one fierce night, while an infernal gate-keeper opposed his road-right. then, again, the other morning, mrs. m---- (our hostess) who like every other lady here, except, perhaps, lady bagot, goes to market every day, was referred by a man, from whom she inquired for potatoes, to an old crone, with the words--'this _lady_ sell them,--here is _a woman_ who wants to buy potatoes!'" the following morning, while our american party were driving out to the superb fort that protects the harbor of kingston, to visit which we had been politely furnished with a permit by an official friend, i endeavored to draw from a very charming and accomplished lady the secret of her unusual silence and reserve at dinner the evening before. she is really a celebrity, as much for her remarkable conversational powers, as for any other reason, perhaps, and i had, therefore, the more regretted her not joining in the conversation. "what made the mystery more difficult of solution," said one of the other ladies, "was the equally imperturbable gravity of that handsome frenchman who sat beside virginia." "handsome!" retorted virginia, "do you call that man handsome!--his high cheek bones and swarthy complexion show his indian blood rather too plainly for my taste, i must confess." "that commingling of races is very common here, virginia," said i, "mr. e---- is a somewhat prominent member of the canadian parliament. i heard a speech from him, in french, yesterday morning, which was listened to with marked attention. there were a number of ladies in the _side-boxes_, too, and it is evident from his attention to his dress, if for no other reason, that mr. e---- is an _élégant_!" "all that may be," rejoined virginia, "but i have no fancy for light blue 'unwhisperables,' as tom calls them, nor for ruffled shirts!" "a change has come o'er the spirit of your dream, most queenly daughter of the 'sunny south!'--is this the sprightly _américaine_ who won all hearts the other day on the st. lawrence,--from that magnificent british officer, to the quiet old priest whose very beard seemed to laugh, at least"---- "that, indeed, col. lunettes!--but for your ever-ready gallantry i would exclaim-- 'man delights me not, nor woman either!' but here we are at the entrance of the famous donjon keep!" we spent some time in examining the--to the ladies--novel attractions of the place. by-and-by, the fair virginia, who had strayed off a little by herself, called to me to come and explain the mode of using a port-hole to her. in a few minutes, she said, in a low tone, sitting down, as she spoke upon a dismounted cannon, "col. lunettes, i beg you not to allude again to that--to the dinner, yesterday, or, at least, to my embarrassment"---- "your embarrassment, my dear girl!" i exclaimed, "you astonish me! do explain yourself"---- "hush," returned my companion, looking furtively over her shoulder, "that young englishman seems to be engrossing the attention of the rest of the party, and, perhaps, i shall have time to tell you"---- "do, my dear, if anything has annoyed you--surely so old a friend may claim your confidence." "i have heard of the 'son of a gun,'" replied she, evidently making a strong effort to recall the natural sprightliness that seemed so singularly to have deserted her of late; "i don't see why i am not the _daughter of a gun_, at this moment, and so entitled to be very brave! but about this mr. e----, colonel," she almost whispered, bending her head so as to screen her face from my observation. "you know mrs. m---- called for me the other morning to go and walk with her alone, because, as she said, she wanted to talk a little about old times, when we were in the convent school at c---- together. well, as we came to a little "shop," as she styled it--a hardware store, _we_ should say--she begged me to go in with her a moment, while she gave some directions about a hall-stove, saying, with an apology: "we wives of government officers here, do all these things, as a matter of course." while she walked back in the place, i very naturally remained near the door, amusing myself by observing what was passing in the street. presently, a fine horse arrested my eye, as he came prancing along. his rider seemed to have some ado to control him, as i thought, at first, but i suddenly became aware that he was endeavoring to stop him, in mid career, and that, when he succeeded--he--i--there was no mistaking it--his glance almost petrified me, in short, and i had only just power to turn quickly in search of mrs. m----." the slight form of the speaker quivered visibly, and she paused abruptly. "why, my poor child," said i, soothingly, "never mind it! how can you allow such a thing to distress you in this way?" "if anything of the kind had ever happened to me before, i should have thought it my fault, in some way; but when i got back to our hotel, and reviewed the whole matter, and--but there come the rest of the party"--she added, hurriedly. "do you wonder now at my manner at the dinner? i knew his face the moment the man entered the dining room; and when mr. m---- introduced him, and requested him to conduct me, the burning glow that flashed over his swarthy brow convinced me that he, too, recognized me. i would sooner have encountered a basilisk than your elegant, parliamentary frenchman!" * * * * * "doctor, what may i eat?" inquired a dyspeptic american, who had just received a prescription from abernethy--the eccentric and celebrated english physician. "_eat?_" thundered the disciple of galen, "the poker and tongs, if you will _chew them well_!" * * * * * what a commingling of nations and characters there was in the little party of which i made one, on a serene evening, lang-syne, at constantinople! we floated gently over the placid bosom of the sunset-tinted golden horn, rowed by four stout mussulmans, and bound for that point of the shore of the marmora nearest the suburb of ezoub where horses awaited us for a brisk canter of some miles back to the city. there were, lord ----, an english nobleman; a hungarian refugee; a yankee sea-captain; a dark-eyed youth from one of the greek islands; and myself--men severed by birth and education from communion of thought and feeling, yet united, for the moment, by a similarity of purpose; associated by the subtle influence of circumstance, into a serene commingling of one common nature, and capacitated for the interchange of impressions and ideas, at least in an imperfect degree, through the medium of a strange jargon, compounded originally of materials as varied as the native languages of the several individuals composing the group in our old turkish _caique_, which may have been, for aught we knew, the identical one that followed byron in his leander-swim! the conversation naturally partook in character of the scene before us:--near, towered the time-stained walls of the seraglio--so long the cradling-place of successive sultans, and then furnishing the embryo of the voluptuous pleasures of their anticipated paradise. beyond, rose the ruin-crowned heights, the domes and minarets of old stamboul, rich in historic suggestions, glowing now in the warmly-lingering smile of the departing day-god, "not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, but one unclouded blaze of living light!" before us, in our way over the crystal waters, loomed up the gloomy, verdure-draped turrets of the "irde koule" of this oft-rebelling and oft-conquered seat of oriental splendor and imperial power. as with the "tower" of london, the mere sight of this now silent and deserted castle, conjured up recollections replete with deeds of wild romance, and darker scenes of blood and crime. around us flowed the waters whose limpid depths had so oft received the sack-shrouded form of helpless beauty, when midnight blackness rivalled the horror of the foul murder it veiled forever from mortal ken. argosies and fleets had been borne upon these waves, whose names or whose conflicts were of world-wide renown--from the mythical adventurers of the golden-fleece to the triumphant squadrons of the osmanlis, all seemed to float before the eye of fancy! from the broken sentences that, for some time, seemed most expressive of the contemplative mood engendered both by our surroundings and by the placidity of the hour, there gradually arose a somewhat connected discussion of the present condition of the ottoman porte. it is not my purpose to inflict upon you a detailed report of our discourse; but only to relate, for your amusement, a fragment of it, which somehow has, strangely enough, floated upwards from the darkened waters of the past, with sufficient distinctness to be snatched from the oblivion to which its utter insignificance might properly consign it. "there is not," said the british noble--a man curious in literature, and a somewhat speculative observer of life--"there is not a single purely literary production in the turkish language, written by a living author; not a poem, nor romance, nor essay. the koran would almost seem to constitute their all of earthly lore and heavenly aspiration. what an anomaly in the biography of modern peoples!" this last sentence was addressed especially to the sea-captain and me, the _idiomatical_ english in which the passing fancy of the speaker found expression being wholly unintelligible to all except ourselves. "their total want of a national literature," said the american, "does not so materially affect my comfort, i must confess, as the utter absence of decent civilization in their renowned capital. for instance, they have not an apology for a night-police in their confoundedly dark streets, except the infernal dogs that infest them. the other night, returning to my quarters, with my 'ibrahim' pilot in front with a lantern, i was persuaded, as one of these 'faithful guardians' fastened his glistening ivories in my boot-top, that, like one of your 'lone stars' at new york, colonel lunettes, he had 'mistaken his man,' and supposed me to be the returned spirit of some one of the countless throng of infidel dogs, upon whom his public education had instructed him to make war to--_the teeth_!" "ha, ha, ha!" laughed the greek, in tones as musical as his dress and attitude were picturesque, from the pile of boat cloaks upon which he reposed in the bow of the boat, and opening his dark eyes till one saw far down into the dreamy depths of his half-slumbering soul through his quick-lit orbs. he had caught enough of the _sense_ of the captain's nonsense, to imagine the joke to the full. "ha, ha, ha!" laughed he, again, and the shadowy walls of the blood-stained "chateau of seven towers," by which we were gliding, gave back the clear, clarion-like tone; "but, while this brave _fils de la mer_[ ] thus sports with the terrors of my country's enslaver [here a frown, deep, dark, threatening, and a quick clenching of the jewelled handle of the yataghan he wore in his belt], the gates of fair stamboul will close, and nor foe, nor frank, nor friend, be given to the dogs." [ ] son of the sea. "by thunder!" shouted the american, shaking himself up, as if at sea, with a suspicious sail in sight, "he is more than half right. would you have thought it so late?" "even a yankee, like captain ----, a fair representative of the 'universal nation,' learns to dream and linger here," responded the englishman, good-humoredly. upon this, i made use of the little knowledge i possessed of the turkish, to interrogate our _caidjis_ respecting the time further required to reach our landing-place. "allah is great, and mohammed is his prophet!" was all i could fully apprehend of his slowly-delivered reply. it was now the captain's turn to laugh, and as his sonorous peal rippled over the marmora, he quietly insinuated his fore-finger and thumb into the disengaged palm of the devout mussulman i had so touchingly adjured. the only response of the devotee of the prophet was a gutteral repetition of "pekee! good! pekee! pekee!" but by an influence as effective as it was mysterious, our swan-like movement was exchanged for a most hope-encouraging velocity. "bravo!" exclaimed my lord. "bravissima!" intonated the hun. "go it, boys!" shouted the "old salt." "by the soul of mithridates and the deeds of thermopolæ!" chimed in the scion of the "isles of greece," catching the instinctively-intelligible contagion of the sportive moment. "and what said uncle hal?" you wonder, perhaps. oh, i was listening to the low, melancholy, semi-howl in which the imperturbable moslems were slowly chanting "_güzal! pek güzal!_"[ ] as they turned their dull eyes lingeringly towards their fast-receding mosques and minarets. [ ] my beautiful! my most beautiful! but, meeting the questioning glances of my companions, as their mirth began to subside, i contributed my humble quota to the general stock of fun by saying, with extreme gravity of voice and manner: "when will wonders cease in the golden horn! at first, even its unquestionable antiquity did not redeem this vessel from my contempt--now i consider it an '_irresistible duck_!'--and i wish, moreover, to publish my conviction that, though barbarous in matters of literature and art, the turks impressively teach their boastful superiors a _religious respect for cleanliness_." * * * * * i remember to have been singularly impressed, when i read it, with an anecdote somewhat as follows: as too frequently happens on such occasions, a discussion in relation to some insignificant matter, into which a large party of men, who had dined together, and were lingering late over their wine, had fallen, gradually increased in vehemence and obstinacy of opinion, until frenzied excitement ruled the hour. "from words they almost came to blows, when luckily" the attention of one of the most furious of the disputants was suddenly arrested by the appearance of one of the gentlemen present. there was no angry flush on his brow, no "laughing devil" in his eye, and he sat quietly regarding the scene before him, serene and self-possessed as when he entered the apartment hours before. his astonished companion inquired the cause of such placidity, in the midst of anger and turbulence. the gentleman pointed, with a smile, to a half-empty water-bottle beside him, and replied: "while the rest of the company have been industriously occupied in endeavoring to drown the distinctive attribute of man--reason--i have preserved its supremacy by simply confining myself to a non-intoxicating beverage." * * * * * i trust you will not think the following somewhat quaint verses, from the pen of an old and now almost forgotten poet, a _mal-à-propos_ conclusion to this letter: the youth and the philosopher a grecian youth, of talents rare, whom plato's philosophic care had formed for virtue's nobler view, by precept and example too, would often boast his matchless skill to curb the steed, and guide the wheel; and as he passed the gazing throng with graceful ease, and smack'd the thong, the idiot wonder they expressed, was praise and transport to his breast. at length, quite vain, he needs would show his master what his art could do; and bade his slaves the chariot lead to academus' sacred shade. the trembling grove confessed its fright, the wood-nymphs started at the sight; the muses drop the learned lyre, and to their inmost shades retire. howe'er, the youth, with forward air, bows to the sage, and mounts the car; the lash resounds, the coursers spring, the chariot marks the rolling ring; and gathering crowds, with eager eyes, and shouts, pursue him as he flies. triumphant to the goal returned, with nobler thirst his bosom burned; and now along the indented plain the self-same track he marks again; pursues with care the nice design, nor ever deviates from the line. amazement seized the circling crowd; the youths with emulation glowed; e'en bearded sages hailed the boy, and all but plato gazed with joy. for he, deep-judging sage, beheld with pain the triumph of the field: and when the charioteer drew nigh, and, flushed with hope, had caught his eye, "alas! unhappy youth," he cried, "expect no praise from me," (and sighed); "with indignation i survey _such skill and judgment thrown away: the time profusely squandered there on vulgar arts, beneath thy care, if well employed, at less expense, had taught thee honor, virtue, sense; and raised thee from a coachman's fate, to govern men, and guide the state_." one seldom finds a nicer selection of words than those of the last lines of these admonitory stanzas. with the wish that they may gratify your literary acumen, i am, as ever, your faithful friend, harry lunettes. letter viii. letter-writing. my dear nephews: there is, perhaps, no form of composition with which it is as desirable to be practically familiar, and in which all educated persons should be accomplished, as that of _letter-writing_; yet no branch of an elegant education is more frequently neglected. consequently, the grossest errors, and the utmost carelessness, are tolerated in regard to it. rhetorical faults, and even ungrammatical expressions, are constantly overlooked, and illegibility has almost come to be regarded as an essential characteristic. following the homely rule of the lightning-tamer, that "_nothing is worth doing at all that is not worth doing well_," you will not need argument to convince you of the propriety of attention to this subject, while forming habits of life. different occasions and subjects require, of course, as various styles of epistolary composition. thus the laconic language adapted to a formal business letter, would be wholly unsuited to one of friendship; and the playfulness that might be appropriate in a congratulatory communication, would be quite out of place in a letter of condolence. while it is impossible that any general rules can be laid down that will be always applicable in individual cases, a few directions of universal application may, not inappropriately, be introduced in connection with our present purpose. the principal requisites of _letters of business_ are, _intelligibility_, _legibility_, and _brevity_. to secure the first of these essentials, a clear, concise, expressive selection of language is required. each word and sentence should express _exactly_ and _unequivocally_ the idea intended to be conveyed, and in _characters_ that will not obscure the sense by doubtful _legibility_. a legible hand should certainly be as essential as intelligible utterance. we pity the man who by stammering, or stuttering, not only taxes the time and patience of his hearers, but leaves them, at times, uncertain of his meaning, despite their efforts to comprehend him. what, then, is the misfortune of those who, like the most genial of wits, 'decline to read their own writing, after it is twenty-four hours old!' do not, i pray you, let any absurd impression respecting the excusableness of this defect, on the score that _genius is superior to the trifles of detail_, etc., lead you either into carelessness or indifference on the subject. few men have the excuse of possessing the dangerous gift of genius, and to affect the weaknesses by which it is sometimes accompanied, is equally silly and contemptible. a man of sense will aim at attaining a true standard of right, not at caricaturing a defective model. depend upon it, a _good business-hand_ is no small recommendation to young men seeking employment in any of the occupations of life. the propriety of _brevity_ in letters of business, will at once commend itself to your attention. time--the wealth of the busy--is thus saved for two parties. but remember, i repeat, that, while this precious treasure is best secured by expressing what you wish to communicate in as few words as possible, nothing is gained by leaving your precise meaning doubtful, by unauthorized abbreviations, confused sentences, or the omission of any essential--as a date, address, proper signature, important question, or item of information. let me add, that _rapidity of mechanical execution_ is of no mean importance in this regard. _letters of introduction_ should be so expressed as to afford the reader a clue to the particular purpose of the bearer in desiring his acquaintance, if any such there be. this will prevent the awkwardness of a personal explanation, and furnish a convenient theme for the commencement of a conversation between strangers. thus, if it be simply a friend, travelling in search of pleasure and general information, whom you wish to commend to the general civilities of another friend, some such form as the following will suffice: ---- ---- ---- my dear sir: allow me the pleasure of introducing to you my friend, mr. ---- ----, a gentleman whose intelligence and acquirements render his acquaintance an acquisition to all who are favored with his society. mr. ---- visits your city [or town, or part of the country, or, your celebrated city, or, your enterprising town, or your far-famed state, etc.] merely as an _observant traveller_. such attentions as it may be agreeable to you to render him will oblige your sincere friend, and obedient servant, ---- ----. to hon. ---- ---- when you wish to write a letter of introduction for a person seeking a situation in business, a place of residence, scientific information, or the like; briefly, but distinctly, state this to your correspondent, together with any circumstance creditable to the bearer, or which it will be advantageous to him to have known, which you can safely venture to avouch. (no one is in any degree bound by individual regard to impair his reputation for probity or veracity in this, or any other respect.) a letter introducing an artist, a lecturer, etc., should contain some allusion to the professional reputation of the bearer--thus: ---- ---- ---- my dear williamson: this will be presented to you by our distinguished countryman, mr. ---- ----, who proposes a brief visit to your enterprising city, chiefly for professional purposes. it affords me great pleasure to be the means of securing to friends whom i so highly value, the gratification i feel assured you and mr. ---- will derive from knowing each other. with the best wishes for your mutual success and happiness, i am, my dear sir, very truly yours, ---- ----. to ---- ----, esq. in the instance of a celebrity, occupying at the time a space in the world's eye, something like this will suffice: boston, _august st, _. my dear friend: it gives me pleasure to present to your acquaintance a gentleman from whose society you cannot fail to derive high enjoyment. mr. ---- [or the hon. ----, or gen. ----][ ] needs no eulogy of mine to render his reputation familiar to you, identified as it is with the literature of our country [or the scientific fame, or the eloquence of the pulpit, etc.] commending my friend to your courtesy, believe me, my dear jones, truly your friend and servant, ---- ----. rev. ---- ----. [ ] always be scrupulously careful to give _titles_, and with accuracy. the proper designation of a _gentleman_ not in office, is--_esquire_. (this, of course, should not be given to a tradesman, or menial.) that of a judge, member of congress, mayor of a city, member of a state legislature, etc., etc., is--_honorable_; that of a clergyman--_reverend_; that of a bishop--_right reverend_. you are, of course, familiar with the proper _abbreviations_ for these titles. in writing the address of a letter, it is desirable to know the _christian_ name of the person to whom it is to be directed. thus, if a physician, "charles jones, m. d.," is better than "dr. jones." so, "dr. de lancey," or "bishop potter," are obviously improper. the correct form to be used in this instance, is: "_to the "right rev. alonzo potter, d. d._" the proper address of a _minister_ representing our government abroad, is--"the honorable ---- ----, minister for the u.s. of america, near the court of st. james, or st. cloud," etc. that of a _chargé d'affaires_, or consul, etc., varies with their respective offices. a _chargé d'affaires_ is sometimes familiarly spoken of as "_our chargé_," at such a court--or as the "_american chargé_." a clergyman may be addressed as "_rev. mr._ ----," if you do not know the first name, or _initial_, and so may a doctor of divinity; but in the latter case it would, perhaps, be better to write--"rev. dr. james,"--though the more accurate mode will still be, if attainable, "rev. william james, d.d." gentlemen of the army and navy should always be designated by their proper titles, and it is well not to be ignorant that a man in either of these professions, when "he hath got his sword ... and seems to know the use on't," may not like to be reminded that the _slow promotion_ he has attained is _unknown to his friends_! letters of introduction should always be _unsealed_, and, as a rule, should relate only to the affairs of the bearer, not even passingly to those of the writer or his correspondent. when it is desirable to write what cannot, for any reason, be properly introduced into the open letter, a separate and _sealed_ communication may be written and sent, with a polite apology, or brief explanation, with the other. when letters of introduction are delivered in person, they should be sent by the servant who admits you, together with your card, to the lady or gentleman to whom they are addressed, as the most convenient mode of announcing yourself, and the object of your visit. when you do not find the person you wish to see, write your _temporary address_ upon your card, as "at the american hotel"--"with mrs. henry, washington-st."--"at hon. john berkley's," etc. should you _send_ your letter, accompany it by your card and _present_ address, and inclose both together in an envelope directed to the person for whom they are designed. when your stay is limited and brief, it is suitable to add upon your card, together with an accurate _date_--"for to-day," or, "to remain but two or three days." and in case of any explanation, or apology, or request being requisite, such as you would have made in a _personal_ interview, write _a note_, to be inclosed with the letter of presentation. every omission of these courtesies that may occasion trouble, or inconvenience to others, is ill-bred, and may easily serve to prejudice strangers against you. sometimes it is well to make an appointment through the card you leave, or send, with a letter, or for a stranger whom you wish to meet, as--"at the globe hotel, _this evening_," with a date, or thus--"will pay his respects to mrs. ----, to-morrow morning, with her permission." a letter introducing a young man, still "unknown to fame," to a lady of fashion, or of distinguished social position, may be expressed somewhat in this manner: _to mrs. modish,[ ] no. belgrave place, charleston, s. c._ astor house, new york, _jan. th, _. dear madam: permit me to present to you my friend, mr. james stuart--a gentleman whose polished manners and irreproachable character embolden me to request for him the honor of an acquaintance with even so fastidious and accomplished an arbiter of fashion as yourself. mr. stuart will be able to give you all the information you may desire respecting our mutual friends and acquaintances in society here. do me the honor to make my very respectful compliments to the misses modish, and to believe me, dear madam, most respectfully, your friend and servant, robert b. hawks. mrs. modish. [ ] it is etiquette to address communications to a lady according to the style she adopts for _her card_. thus, the elder of two married ladies, bearing the same name and of the same family, may properly designate herself simply as mrs. ----, without any christian name (her position in society and the addition upon her card, of her _locale_ being supposed sufficient to identify her). the wives of her youngest brother, or those of her sons, are then "mrs. n. c. ----," "mrs. charles ----," and so on. the eldest of a family of sisters is, "miss ----," the younger are "miss nellie ----," "miss julia ----," etc. in writing to, or conversing with them, you thus individualize them. but when you are upon ceremonious terms with them, _in the absence of the elder,_ you address one of the younger sisters, with whom you are conversing, as "miss ----," only, omitting the individualizing christian name. of course, when writing under such circumstances, a note of ceremony designed for the young ladies of a family, collectively, should be addressed to "_the misses_ ----;" and if for one of them, alone, to "miss ----," or, "miss mary g. ----," as the case may be. letters presenting _foreigners_, should designate the country and particular locality to which they belong, as well as the purpose of their tour, as--"the chevalier bonné, of berne, switzerland whose object in visiting our young republic is not only the wish to compare our social and political institutions with those of his own country, but the collection of _specimens_ and _information_ respecting the _natural history_ of the united states. such assistance as you may be able to render my learned friend, in facilitating his particular researches, will confer a favor upon me, my dear sir, which i shall ever gratefully remember," etc., etc. the subject of letters of introduction naturally suggests that of _personal introductions_, in relation to which the grossest mistakes and the greatest carelessness are prevalent, even among well-bred people. in making persons acquainted with each other, the form of words may vary almost with every different occasion, but there are certain rules that should never be overlooked, since they refer to considerations of abstract propriety. younger persons and inferiors in social rank, should, almost invariably, be _presented to_ their seniors and superiors. thus, one should not say--"mr. smith, let me introduce mr. washington irving to you," but "mr. irving, will you allow me to introduce mr. john smith to you?" or, "permit me to present mr. smith to you, sir," presupposing that mr. smith does not need to be informed to whom he is about to be introduced. it is difficult to express upon paper the difference of signification conveyed by the mode of _intonating_ a sentence. "general scott, mr. jones," may be so pronounced as to present the latter gentlemen to our distinguished countryman, in a simple, but admissible manner, or it may illustrate the impropriety of naming a man of mark to a person who makes no pretensions to social equality with him. usually, men should be introduced to women, upon the principle that precedence is always yielded to the latter; but, even in this case, an exception may properly be made in the instance of an introduction between a _very young_, or, otherwise, wholly unindividualized woman, and a man of high position, or of venerable age. a half-playful variation from the ordinary phraseology of this ceremony, may sometimes be adopted, under such circumstances, with good taste, as--"this young lady desires the pleasure of knowing you, sir--miss williams," or, "mr. prescott, this is my niece, miss ada byron robinson." when there is a "distinction without a difference" between two persons, or when hospitality interdicts your assuming to decide a nice point in this regard, it may be waived by merely _naming_ the parties in such a way as to give precedence to neither--thus: "gentlemen, allow me--mr. w----, mr. v----," or, "gentlemen, allow me the pleasure of making you known to each other," and then simply pronounce the names of the two persons. by the way, let me call your attention to the importance of an _audible_ and _distinct_ enunciation of _names_, when assuming to make an introduction. a _quiet, self-possessed manner_, and _intelligibility_ should be regarded as essential at such times. when introducing persons who are necessarily wholly unacquainted with each other's antecedents of station or circumstance, it is eminently proper to add a brief explanation, as--"mr. preudhomne, let me introduce my brother-in-law, general peters,--mr. preudhomne, of paris," or; "mrs. blandon, with your permission, i will present to you señor abenno, a spanish gentleman. señor a. speaks french perfectly, but is unacquainted with our language;" or, "mr. smithson, this is my friend mr. brown, of philadelphia--like ourselves, _a merchant_;" or, "my dear, this is captain blevin, of the good ship neversink,--mrs. nephews, sir." never say "my wife," or "my daughter," or "my sister," "my father-in-law," or the like, without giving each their proper ceremonious title. how should a stranger know whether your "daughter" is-- "sole daughter of your house and heart," or miss "lucy," or "belinda," the third or fourth in the order of time, and, consequently, of precedence, or what may chance to be the name of your father-in-law, or half-sister, etc., etc. well-bred people address each other by name, when conversing, and hence the awkwardness occasioned by this vulgar habit, which is only equalled by that of speaking of your wife as "my wife,"[ ] or worse still, "_my lady!_" is it not enough, when your friends know that you are married, and are perfectly familiar with your own name, to speak of "mrs. ----," and to introduce them to the mistress of your house by that designation? it is a solecism in good manners to suppose it unsuitable to designate the members of your own family by their proper titles under all circumstances that would render it suitable and convenient to do so in the instance of other persons. never fall into the _american_ peculiarity on this point, i entreat you. say--"my father, dr. v----," or "my sister, miss v----," "mrs. col. v----, my sister-in-law," or, "my sister, mrs. john jenkins," with as scrupulous a regard for rank and precedence, as though dealing with strangers. indeed, you virtually _ignore all personal considerations_, while acting in a social relation merely. [ ] this reminds me of another habit that is becoming prevalent in this _new_ land of ours--that of men's entering themselves upon the registers of hotels, ocean steamers, etc., as "m. a. timeson and _lady_!" or, "mr. g. simpson and _wife_." what can possibly be the objection to the good old established form of "mr. and mrs. m. a. timeson," or "george and mrs. simpson," or "mr. g. simpson. mrs. and the misses simpson?" the rules of etiquette very properly interdict _indiscriminate introductions_ in general society. no one has a right to thrust the acquaintance of persons upon each other without their permission, or, at least, without some assurance that it will be agreeable to them to know each other. strangers meeting at the house of a mutual friend, in a morning visit, or the like, converse with each other, or join in the general conversation without an introduction, which it is not usual among fashionable people to give under such circumstances. if you wish to present a gentleman of your acquaintance to a lady, you first ask her permission, either in person or by note, to take him to her house, if she be married, or to do so at a party, etc., where you may chance to meet her. in the instance of a very young lady, propriety demands your obtaining the consent of one of her parents before adding to her list of male acquaintances, unless you are upon such terms of intimacy with her family and herself, as to render this superfluous; and so with all your friends. it is better, however, even where unceremoniousness is admissible, to err upon the safer side. among men, greater license may be taken; but, _as a rule_, i repeat, persons are _not_ introduced in the street, in pump-rooms, in the public parlors of hotels, or watering-places, meeting incidentally at receptions or at morning visits, etc.; and not even when they are your guests at large dinners, or soirées, without their previous assent or request. of course, such rules, like all the laws of convention, are established and followed for convenience, and should not be regarded, like those of the medes and persians, as unchangeable. good sense and good feeling will vary them with the changes of circumstance. no amiable person, for instance, will hesitate to set them aside for the observance of the more imperative law of kindness, when associated with those who are ignorant of their existence (as many really excellent persons are), and would be pained by their strict observance. neither should the most punctilious sticklers for form think it necessary to make a parade of the mere letter of such rules, at any time. it is the spirit we want, for the promotion of social convenience and propriety. perhaps it may be as well in this connection as in any other, to say a word about the matter of _visiting cards_. fashion sanctions a variety of forms for this necessary appendage. in europe, it is very common to affix the professional or political title to the name, as "---- ----, professor in the university of heidelburg," or, "---- ----, conseiller d'etat,"; and an englishman in public life often has on his card the cabalistic characters--"in h.m.s."--(in her majesty's service). among the best-bred americans, i think the prevalent usage is to adopt the _simple signature_, as "henry wise," or to prefix the title of mr., as "mr. seward." sometimes,--particularly for cards to be used away from home--the place of residence is also engraved in one corner below the name.[ ] [ ] persons belonging to the army and navy use their full titles, with the addition of "u.s.a.," or "u.s.n." europeans occasionally adopt the practice of having the corners of the reverse side of their cards engraven across with such convenient words as "_pour dire adieu_" (to say good bye). "_congratulation_" (to offer congratulations). "_pour affaire_" (on an errand, or on business). "_arrivé_" (tantamount to "_in town_"). the appropriate corner is turned over, as occasion requires, and the sentence is thus brought into notice on the _same side with the name_. _business cards_ should never be used in social life, nor should flourishes, ornamental devices, or generally unintelligible characters be employed. a smooth, _white_ card, of moderate size, with a plain, legible inscription of the name, is in unexceptionable taste and _ton_, suitable for all occasions, and sufficient for all purposes, with the addition, when circumstances require it, of a pencilled word or sentence. but to return to our main subject. _letters of recommendation_ partake of the general character of those of introduction. it is sufficient to add, in regard to them, that they should be _conscientiously_ expressed. all that can be truthfully said for the advantage of the bearer, should be included; but, as i have before remarked, no one is obliged to compromise his own integrity to advance the interests of others in this manner, more than in any other. _letters of condolence_ require great care and delicacy of composition. they should relate chiefly, as a rule, to the subject by which they are elicited, and express _sympathy_ rather than aim at _administering consolation_. no general directions can be made to embrace the peculiarities of circumstance in this regard. suffice it to say that the inspiration of genuine feeling will dictate rather expressions of kindly interest for the sufferer you address, of respect and regard for a departed friend, or an appreciation of the magnitude of the misfortune you deplore, rather than coldly polished sentences and prolonged reference to one's self. _letters of congratulation_ should embody cheerfulness and cordiality of sentiment, and be at an equal remove from an exaggeration of style, suggesting the idea of insincerity or of covert ridicule, and from chilling politeness, or indications of indifference. to "rejoice with those who rejoice" is indeed a pleasing and easy task for those who are blessed with a genial nature, and enrich themselves by partaking in the good fortune of others. letters expressing this pleasure admit of a little more egotism than is sanctioned by decorum in some other cases. one may be allowed to allude to one's own feelings when so pleasurably associated with those of one's correspondent. _brevity_ is quite admissible in letters both of condolence and felicitation--referring, as they properly do, chiefly to _one topic_; it is in better taste not to introduce extraneous matter into them, especially when they are of a merely ceremonious nature. _letters to superiors in station or age_ demand a respectful and laconic style. no familiarity of address, no colloquialisms, pleasantries, or digressions, are admissible in them. they should be commenced with a ceremoniously-respectful address carefully and concisely expressed, and concluded with an elaborate formula, of established phraseology. the name of the person to whom they are written should be placed near the lower, left hand edge of the sheet, together with his ceremonious title, etc. no abbreviations of words--and none of titles, unsanctioned by established usage, should be introduced into such letters, and they should bear at the commencement, below the date, and on the left hand side of the paper, the name of the person addressed, thus: washington city, _feb. d, _. honorable edward everett:-- sir, * * * * * * * * * * i am, sir, very respectfully, your humble servant, j. f. carpenter. hon. edward everett, secretary of state, for the u. s. be careful to remember that it is unsuitable to commence a communication to an _entire stranger_ an official letter, or one of ceremony, in reply to a gentleman acting in the name of a committee, etc., etc., with "dear sir." this familiarity is wholly out of place under such circumstances, and it is matter of surprise that our public men so frequently fall into it, even in addressing public functionaries representing foreign countries here, etc. in this respect, as in many others, their "quality," as that most discerning satirist, _punch_, has recently said of the style of one of our men in high office--is not "_strained_!" the veterans of diplomatic or of congressional life should let us see that practice has refined their style of speaking and writing, rather than remind us that they have come to the _lees_ of intellect! i have, for several years past, remarked the published letters of one of the distinguished men of the empire state, as models of graceful rhetoric and good taste. i refer now, not to the political opinions they may have expressed, but to their _literary execution_. they indicate the pen of genius--no matter what the occasion--whether declining to break ground for a canal, to lay the corner-stone of a university, acknowledging a public serenade, or expounding a political dogma, a certain indescribable something always redeems them alike from common-place ideas, and from inelegance of language. see if your newspaper profundity will enable you to "guess" the name of the individual to whom i refer. _diplomatic letters_ require a style peculiar to themselves, in relation to which it would be the height of temerity in me to adventure even a hint. the public documents of our own country and of england, afford models for those of you who shall have occasion for them, as members of the "corps diplomatique." _letters of friendship and affection_ must, of course, vary in style with the occasions and the correspondents that elicit them. a light, easy, playful style is most appropriate. and one should aim rather at correctness of diction than at anything like an elaborate parade of language. _grammatical inaccuracies_ and _vulgarisms_ are _never_ allowable among educated people, whether in speaking or writing; nor is _defective spelling_ excusable. _punctuation_ and attention to the general rules of composition should not be overlooked, as thus only can unmistakable intelligibleness be secured. avoid all ambitious pen-flourishes, and attempts at ornamental caligraphy, and aim at the acquisition of a legible, neat, gentleman-like hand, and a pure, manly, expressive style, in this most essential of all forms of composition. the possession of excellence in this accomplishment will enable you to disseminate high social and domestic pleasure. nothing affords so gratifying a solace to friends, when separated, as the reception of those tokens of remembrance and regard. they only who have wandered far, far away from the ties of country, friends, and home, can fully appreciate the delight afforded by the reception of letters of a satisfactory character. and the welcome assurances of the safety, health, and happiness of the absent and loved, is the best consolation of home-friends. _practice_, _patience_, and _tact_, are equally essential to the acquisition of ease and grace in this desirable art. _wit_, _humor_, and _playfulness_ are its proper embellishments, and _variety_ should characterize its themes. a certain _egotism_, too, is not only pardonable, but absolutely requisite, and may even become delicately complimentary to the recipient of one's confidence. let me remind you, too, that--though "offence of _spoken_ words" may be excused by the excitement of passing feeling--the deliberate commission of unkind, or, worse still, of unjust, untruthful, injurious language, to paper, argues an obliquity of moral vision little likely to secure the writer either "what nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, the _soul's calm sunshine_," or the respect and regard of others. facility in writing familiar letters may be increased by the habit of _mentally_ recording, before inditing them, as opportunity affords material, such incidents of travel, items of personal interest, or gossiping intelligence, etc., as may be thought best suited to the tastes of your correspondents. and it is well, before closing such communications, not only to glance over them to satisfy yourself of their freedom from mistakes, but by that means to recall any omission occasioned by forgetfulness. notes of _invitation_, of _acceptance_, and _regret_, require, of course, brevity and simplicity of expression. the _prevailing mode_ of the society you are connected with, is usually the proper guide in relation to these matters of form, for the time being. thus the mere formula of social life at washington, boston, charleston, paris, or st. petersburg, may be somewhat varied, as _usage_ alone frequently determines these niceties, and all eccentricities and peculiarities in this respect, as in most others, are in bad taste. cards, or notes, of invitation to dinners and soirées, are frequently printed, and merely names and dates supplied in writing. the example of the _best society_ (in the most elevated sense of that much-abused phrase) everywhere, sanctions only the most unpretending mode of expression and general style, for such occasions. the utmost beauty and exquisiteness of finish in the mere _material_, but the absence of all pretentious ornament, is thought most unexceptionable. _invitations to dinner_ should be acknowledged at your earliest convenience, and--whether accepted or declined--in courteously ceremonious phraseology. in the instance of invitations[ ] to balls and evening-parties, weddings, etc., haste is not so essential; but a seasonable reply to such civilities should by no means be neglected. [ ] i was somewhat surprised lately, in perusing an agreeable novel, written by one of our countrywomen, to observe her use of the word "_ticket_" as synonymous with _invitation_, or _card of invitation_. a "_ticket_" admits one to a concert, the opera, or theatre but one receives an "_invitation_," or "_card of invitation_" to a dinner, ball, or evening-party, at a friend's house. all misnomers of this kind savor of under-breeding--they are _vulgarisms_, in short, unsanctioned either by taste or fashion. when you wish to take a friend--who is a stranger to the hostess--with you to an evening entertainment, and are upon sufficiently established terms with her to make it quite proper to do so, acknowledge your invitation at once, and request permission to take your friend--thus affording an opportunity, if it is requisite, for the return of an invitation enclosed to you for your proposed companion. some form like the following will answer the purpose: mr. thomas brown has the honor to accept mrs. mason's very polite invitation for next thursday evening. with mrs. mason's permission, mr. brown will be accompanied by his friend, mr. crawford, of cincinnati, who is at present temporarily in new york. carlton house, _monday morning, december th_. among intimate friends, it is sometimes most courteous, when _declining an invitation_, in place of a mere formal "regret" to indite a less ceremonious note, briefly explanatory, or apologetic. _essential good-breeding_ is the best guide in these occasional deviations from ceremonious rules. formal notes of invitation, and the like, should not be addressed to several persons inclusively. of course, a gentleman and his wife are invited in this inclusive way, as are the unmarried sisters of a family, when residing in the same house; but visitors to one's friends, a married lady and her daughters, as well as the younger gentlemen of a family, should, severally, have separate notes, directed to them individually, where ceremony is requisite, though all may, for convenience, be enclosed in the same envelope, with a general direction to the elder lady of the house. letters, or notes, commenced in the _third person_, should be continued throughout in the same form. it is obviously incorrect (though of frequent occurrence), to adopt such phraseology as--"mr. small presents his compliments to miss jones," etc., and to conclude with "yours respectfully, g. small." this mode of expression (the third person), is only adapted to brief communications of a formal nature. no _address and signature_ are required when the names of the recipient and of the writer are introduced into the body of the note, as they necessarily are. the place of residence (if written), and the date, are placed at the left hand side of the paper, _below_ the principal contents. letters designed to be mailed--such as are written to persons living at a distance from your own place of residence--should have your proper _mail address_ legibly written on the right hand side of your sheet, _above_ the rest of the communication, together with the date. notes addressed to persons residing in the same place with yourself, require only the name of the street you reside in, and your number, with the _day of the week_--as "clinton place, thursday p. m.," or, "no. great jones st., monday morning"--which is usually placed below the other portions of the missive. it is usual to write _short notes of ceremony_ so as to have the few lines composing them in _the middle_ of the small sheet used. forms of signature and address vary in accordance with the general tenor of letters. when they are of an entirely ceremonious character, or addressed to superiors, usage requires an elaborate address and subscription; but the style of familiar epistles permits throughout every variety of language that good taste and good feeling may invent or sanction. only let there be a general harmony in your compositions. do not fall into the inadvertency of the person who addressed a missive full of the most tender expressions of regard to his mistress, and signed it--"yours respectfully, clark, smith & co." _legibility_, _intelligibility_, and _accuracy_ are requisite in the _direction_ of all epistolary compositions. correct taste demands some attention to the subject of _writing-materials_. it is now becoming the practice to use small-sized paper for communications of ceremony and friendship, continuing the contents through several sheets, if necessary, and numbering each in proper succession. it is, also, usual to write ceremonious letters on but one side of a sheet, and to leave a wide margin upon the left hand side, and a narrower one on the opposite edge of the paper. the finest, smoothest paper should always be used, except for mere business matters; and, though some passing fashion may sanction tinted paper, pure white is always unexceptionable. all fancy ornaments, colored designs, etc., etc., are in questionable taste. if ornamental bordering, or initial lettering is adopted, the most chaste and unpretending should be preferred. except for _mailing_, envelopes should correspond exactly with the sheet inclosed. envelopes sent by post should be strong and large-sized. sometimes it is well to re-enclose a small envelope, corresponding with the written sheet, in a large, firm cover, and to write the full direction upon that. sealing wax should always be used for closing all epistles, except those of an entirely business nature. _stamps_ and _seals_ may vary with taste. a plain form with an unbroken face, suffices; or initials, a device and motto, one or both; or hereditary heraldic designs may be preferred. letters intended to go by mail on the continent of europe, should be written on a single, large sheet of _thin_ paper, and _not enveloped_. _it is as ill-bred not to reply to a communication requiring an acknowledgment, or to neglect proper attention to all the several matters of importance to which it relates, as it is not to answer a question directly and personally addressed to you._ _promptitude_ is also demanded by good-breeding, in this regard. necessity only can excuse the impoliteness of subjecting a friend, or business-correspondent, to inconvenience or anxiety, occasioned by delay in replying to important letters. tyros in epistolary composition may derive advantage from noting the peculiar excellences of the published letters of celebrated authors and others; not for the purpose of servile imitation, but as affording useful general models, or guides. miscellaneous readers may note the genial humor and patient elaborateness characterizing the letters of the "great unknown," the felicities of expression sometimes observable in the familiar missives of byron, and of his friend tom moore (when the latter is not writing to his much-put-upon london publisher for table-supplies, etc.!) amuse himself with the gossiping capacity for details exhibited by those of horace walpole, and con, with wondering admiration, the epistolary illustrations of the well-disciplined, thoroughly-balanced character of the great american model, of whose writings it may always be said--whether an "order," written on a drum-head, or the draught of a document involving the interests of all humanity is the subject--that they are "_well done_." among the collections of letters i remember to have read, none now occur to me as offering more variety of style than those included in the "memoirs of h. more." they are a little old-fashioned now, perhaps; but some of them, both for matter and manner, are, in their way, unsurpassed in english literature. some of those of _sir w. w. pepys_, i recollect as peculiarly pleasing. several of the published letters of dr. johnson, and one or two of those of our own franklin, are to be regarded as among the curiosities of literature, rather than as precedents which circumstances will ever render available, or desirable. johnson's celebrated letter to lord chesterfield, declining his proffered patronage, for instance--and franklin's, concluding with the witty sarcasm-- "you are now my enemy, and i am "yours, b. franklin." at some future time, perhaps, the literary treasures of our country will be enriched by specimens of the correspondence of such of our contemporaries as inspire the highest admiration for their general style of composition. who could fail to peruse with interest, letters from the pen of prescott, who never makes even such a physical infirmity as his, a plea for inaccuracy, or carelessness of expression? and who would not hail with delight any draught presented by the bounteous hand of irving, from, "the well of english undefiled," whence he himself has long quaffed the highest inspiration! * * * * * "there they are!" shouted james. "here they come!" exclaimed miss mary marston. "they have made good time, the lazy dogs, for once!" said i. "oh, i'm so glad!" echoed the silvery cadences of nettie brown, who seemed about to dance to the music of her own merry voice. "i hope"----began the dove-like murmur of a fair invalid: she ceased, and her dewy eyes told all she would have said. "god grant us good news!" said our venerable _compagnon de voyage_, fervently, a shade of anxiety clouding his usually benignant countenance. "ladies, excuse me! i beg you to remember that they may not bring anything--let me prepare you for a disappointment!" these words were uttered, with apparent reluctance, by a young man, whose pale face and dark melancholy eyes seemed to lend almost prophetic emphasis to his warning tones. nettie ceased to clap her little hands; "jovial james" looked as grave as his usually rollicking, fun-twinkling eyes permitted; the stately mary could only look fixedly towards the approaching arabs, the serenity of our patriarchal friend was more than ever disturbed; sweet isidore grew marble pale, and leaned heavily back upon the sculptured pillar against which we had secured her camp-seat, and your uncle hal--well! he is a "proverbial philosopher," you know! there we were, amid the solemn magnificence of the ruined palaces and temples of once-mighty thebes. our little party was gathered in front of the great propylon of the famous temple of luxor, whose mysterious grandeur we had come many thousands of miles to behold. massive pillars, covered with minutely-finished picture-writing and mystic hieroglyphics, sufficient for the life-long study of the curious student; enormous architraves, half-buried colossi, far-reaching colonnades, "grand, gloomy and peculiar;" the world-famed memnon; the grim, tomb-hallowed mountains--all the wonders of the nile, of _el uksorein_, of karnac, surrounded us! but humiliating reflections upon the mutability of human greatness and human power, the eager speculations of the disciples of champollion, sarcophagi and sculptured ceilings, and scarabæi and sesostris, alike sunk into matters of insignificance and indifference when compared with the expectation of _letters from home_! that most amiable and hospitable of mussulmans, mustapha aga, _the traveller's friend_, had engaged the sheik (heaven spare the mark!) of one of the squalid arab villages, whose mud walls cluster upon the roofs of the grand halls and porticoes of ancient thebes--reminding one of _animalculoe_ by comparison--to accompany my servant and one or two of our dusky satellites to a point in the vicinity, to which the american and english consuls at cairo had engaged to forward our letters, etc. our motley band of couriers was now seen advancing along the low bank of the river, and all was eager anticipation and impatience. the ceremony of distribution was speedily accomplished, and an observer of the scene, like our calm, silent host, the kindly mustapha, might almost read the contents of the different letters of the several members of our little group reflected in the faces of each. "jovial james" sunk down at once at the feet of the fair nettie, who had sacrilegiously seated herself upon the edge of an open sarcophagus, with a lap full of treasures, before which her hoarded antiques--and she was the most indefatigable _collector_ of our corps--relapsed again into the nothingness from which her admiration had, for a time, redeemed them. something very much like a tear glistened in the bright eyes of the frolicksome youth as he murmured, half-unconsciously "mother," and sunshine and shadow played in quick succession over the mirroring features of the fair girl. the usually placid mary marston fairly turning her back upon us, beat a retreat towards a prostrate column and half-concealed herself among its crumbling fragments; and our sweet, fast-fading flower, for whose comfort each vied with the other, the beautiful isidore, clasped her triple prizes between her slight palms, and folding them to her meek bosom, lifted her soft eyes toward the heaven that looked alike on egypt and on her native land, and whispered "_home!_ oh, father take me _home_!" "not one word does frank say about _remittances_--the most important of all subjects!" cried james, with his elbows on his knees, and a half-filled sheet held out before him in both hands. "he is the most provoking fellow!--just look, nettie, how much blank paper, too, sent all the way from manhattan island to upper egypt," he added, with a serio-comic tap on the paper. "good enough for you!" retorted his frequent tormentor; "you wouldn't write from rome to him, as i begged you to"---- "but, most amiable miss _consolation 'on a monument_, smiling at grief,' don't you recollect that _you_ favored him with three 'great big' sheets, crammed, crossed, and kissed"---- "do go away, james wilson! you are a regular _squatter_, as they say at home; really, if you are not established on my skirt!" laughed his merry companion, reddening, however, at his skillful sally. james, well used to repulses, made not even a pretence of removing his quarters; but, tracing with his forefinger in the sand, began to tease his pretty neighbor for news from home, protesting that _men_ were the poorest letter-writers, and that _his_ correspondents in particular, _never said anything_! but what had become of the thoughtful friend whose warning voice had checked too eager expectation in his companions, whilst ----"thou, oh hope, with eyes so fair," made wild tumult in each eager breast? i marked his face, as he stood apart from the excited group gathered about the bearer of our dispatches. it was almost as immobile and coldly calm as those of the polished colossi around us, save for the burning eyes that seemed actually to devour the several directions that were glanced over, or read aloud by others. his hands, too, were tightly clutched, as though he were thus self-sustained.--poor fellow! i had frequently noticed his manner before, where the happiness of others arrested attention; it indicated, to me, a serenity like that of the expiring hero who waved his life-draught to another, hiding, with a smile, the outward signs of tortured nature! almost before the last package was unfolded, he was advancing with rapid strides along the majestic avenue leading from our stand-point towards the ruins of karnac, and was soon lost to sight amid its massive ornaments. how easily might some friendly hand have shed balm upon his sad and solitary spirit, on that memorable day in far-off nile-land, when so many hearts were gladdened with the sweet sunlight enkindled by _letters_!--so many faces illumined with smiles reflected from the ever-glowing altars of country and home! * * * * * sir walter scott, as his son-in-law informed me, despite the vast amount of intellectual labor he otherwise imposed upon himself, with as little flinching, apparently, as though his mind were a powerful self-regulating steam-engine, had the habit of _always answering letters on the day of their reception_! mr. lockhart told me that, during the researches he made among the private papers of his immortal friend, while preparing materials for his biography, he almost invariably remarked, from the careful notations upon them, that when any delay had occurred in replying to a letter, it arose from the necessity of some previous investigation, or the like. my astonishment upon perusing the long, elaborately-written epistles that mr. lockhart subsequently gave to the world, was augmented by my knowledge of this fact, and by my remembrance of the innumerable demands made upon his time by social and public duties. but "we ne'er shall look on his like again!" well might his pen be styled the wand of the mighty wizard of the north. * * * * * a gentle tap at the library-door interrupted the after-dinner chat of my old friend and myself. a fair young face presented itself in answer to the bidding of my host, and, upon seeing me was quickly withdrawn. "come in, my daughter, come--what will you have?" i rose immediately to withdraw, as the young lady, thus encouraged, somewhat timidly advanced towards her father. "pray, do not disturb yourself, colonel lunettes," said she; "i only want to speak to pa one moment; don't think of going away, i beg"---- my host, too, interposed to prevent my leaving the room, and i, therefore, took up a book and re-seated myself. "excuse me for interrupting you, pa, but may i"--here a whisper, and then so audibly that i could not help overhearing--"do please, dear pa!" "well, we'll see about it--when is the concert?" rang out the clear voice of the father. "but, pa, i ought to answer the note to-night or very early to-morrow morning--it would not be polite to keep mr. blakeman"---- "a note, eh?" interrupted the old gentleman, "let me see it--go bring it to me." i thought i could not be mistaken in the indication of reluctance to obey this direction evinced by the slow step of my usually sprightly-motioned young favorite. "come, fanny, come," said her father, when she re-entered, "you have no objection to showing _me_"---- "oh, no, indeed, pa,--but you are so critical," the young lady began to protest. "critical! am i though!" exclaimed the parent, with some vivacity, "perhaps so--at least i judge somewhat, of a man's claims to the acquaintance of my daughter by these things." and, adjusting his spectacles, he opened the note his daughter offered. "bless my soul!" he cried, at the first glance, "what bright-colored paper, and how many grand flourishes--really, my dear!" there was a brief silence and then the father said mildly, but firmly, "fanny, i prefer that you should not accept this invitation." "will you tell me why, pa?" "because the writer is not a _gentleman_! no man of taste and refinement would write such a note as this to a lady, with whom he has only the ceremonious acquaintance that this young man has with you. he is evidently _illiterate_, too,--his note is not only inelegantly expressed, but it is mis-spelled"---- "oh, pa"---- "i assure you it is so. your own education is more defective than it should be with the advantages you have had, if you cannot perceive this--read it again, and tell me what word is mis-spelled," said her father, returning the production under discussion to fanny. the young lady sat down by the lamp to con the task assigned her, and my host said to me--"it is unpardonable, now-a-days, for a young man to be ignorant in such matters as these. when _we_ were young, hal, the means of acquiring knowledge generally, were limited by circumstances; but who that wishes, lacks them at present?--well, my daughter"---- "yes, pa, i see,--of course it was a mere slip of the pen"---- "a slip of the pen!" retorted the father, "and is that a sufficient excuse? proper respect will teach a young man of right feelings towards your sex, to take good care that no such carelessness retains a place in his first billet to a lady--it is an _indication of character_, my child! depend upon it, that the man who writes in this way,--encircling some of his words with a flourish, abbreviating others, mis-spelling, and all upon mottled paper, with a highly _ornate_ border, does not understand himself, and will be guilty of other solecisms in good manners and good taste, that will be very likely to embarrass and shock a young lady accustomed to"---- "the society of _gentlemen of the old school_, like pa and col. lunettes!" exclaimed fanny, in her usual laughing manner, snatching up the condemned missive, and flying out of the room. in the course of the evening, my old friend and i joined the ladies in the drawing-room. a merry group around a centre-table, attracted me, and as the fair fanny made a place beside her agreeable little self for me, i was soon settled to my satisfaction in the midst of the fair bevy. "what are you all so busy about?" i inquired, as i seated myself. "oh, criticising!" cried one. "acquiring knowledge under difficulties," replied another. "accomplishing ourselves in the art epistolary, by the study of models!" returned a third. and sure enough,--the table was strewed with cards, and notes, and an empty fancy-basket told where these sportive critics had obtained their materials. i soon gathered that the scrutiny fanny's note had undergone in the library, was the moving cause of this sudden resuscitation of defunct billet-doux and forgotten cards. "only look at this one, col. lunettes!" exclaimed a pretty girl opposite me, handing across a visiting card, with the name written with ink, in rather cramped characters, and surrounded with a variety of awkward attempts at ornamental flourishes. "isn't that sufficient to condemn the perpetrator to 'durance vile' in the _paradise of fools_?" "well, here is a beautiful note, at any rate," exclaimed the eldest daughter of the house, "even papa would not find fault with this"-- "what are you saying about papa?" inquired the master of the mansion, pausing in his walk up and down the room, and leaning upon the back of his daughter's chair. "won't you join us, sir?" returned the young lady, making a motion to rise; "let me give you my seat." "no, no, sit still, child--let us hear the note that you think unexceptionable." "it is as simple as possible," said she, "but though it only relates to a matter of business, i remember noticing, when i opened it, the elegant writing and"---- "well, let us hear it, my daughter." thus impelled, the fair reader began: "henry wynkoop presents his respectful compliments to miss campbell, and begs leave to inform her that the goods for which she inquired, a few days since, have arrived, and are now ready for her inspection. " main st., _wednesday morning, may d._" "i should have said," added miss campbell, "that i had simply requested mr. wynkoop to send me word about some shawls, when any of the family happened in there, and did not think of troubling him to send a note." "let me see," said her father, taking the paper from her hand, "yes! just what one might expect from that young fellow--fine, handsome, plain paper [a glance at poor fanny] and a neat modest seal--all because _a lady_ was in question; and one can read the writing as if it were print. look at it, lunettes! a promising young merchant--a friend of ours, here. an _educated_ merchant--what every man should be, who wishes to succeed in mercantile life in this country." "yes," returned i, "ours is destined, if i do not greatly mistake, to be a land of _merchant princes_, like venice of old, and i quite agree with you that american merchants should be _educated gentlemen_!" "this young wynkoop," continued my friend, "is destined yet to fill some space in the world's eye, unless i have lost my power to judge of men. he seems to find time for everything--the other evening he was here--(the girls had some young friends)--and, happening to step into the library, i found him standing with one of the book-cases open, and just reaching down a volume--'i beg your pardon, sir, if i intrude,' said he, 'but i was going to look for a passage in the "deserted village," as i am not so fortunate as to possess a copy of goldsmith.' of course i assured him that the books were all at his service, and apologized for closing the door, and seating myself at my desk, saying that a rascally canadian lawyer had sent me a letter so badly written that i could scarcely puzzle it out, and that his bad french was almost unintelligible at that. i confess i was surprised when he offered to assist me, saying very modestly, that nothing was more confusing than _patois_ to the uninitiated, but that he had chanced to have some experience in it. so he helped me out very cleverly, in spite of my protestations at his losing so much time, and when he found he could not aid me farther, looked up his lines, put back my book, and quietly bowing, slipped out of the room. when i went back to the girls, later in the evening, i heard my young friend singing with some lady, in a fine clear voice, and, soon after, discovered him in another room dancing, '_money musk_' with my own wife for his partner!" while this little sketch was in progress of narration, the inspection of the miscellaneous display upon the table had been silently progressing. and each pretty critic had made some discovery. "here is a 'regret' sent for the other night," said fanny, "what do you think of that, col. lunettes?" and a large sheet of note paper was put into my hand, clumsily folded, and containing only the words "mr. augustus simpkin regrets." "a good deal is left for the imagination," i replied, "regrets what?" "_that he is a numskull_, perhaps, but i fear there is not that encouragement for his improvement!" broke in the chairman of this committee of investigation. the general laugh that followed this spicy comment had no sooner subsided, than another note caught my eye, by its handsome penmanship. glancing it over, i handed it to one of the young ladies without comment. she 'looked unutterable things,' as she quietly refolded the missive, and was about to slip it out of sight; but the dancing eyes of the lively fanny had caught the whole movement, and she insisted upon what she called _fair play_. so the paper was again subjected to perusal--this time aloud. baltimore, _july , ' _. "william jones takes this means of making an apology for not calling for miss mary last evening. i assure you no offence was intended, and hope you did not take it so. "yours affectionately, "p. william jones. "the miss campbells." "how did that get into the card-basket?" exclaimed miss campbell, in consternation, "it ought to have been destroyed at the time"---- "it has risen up in judgment against the writer now," said fanny, "but he is much improved since then. he knows better now than to say 'the _miss campbells_', or"---- "or sign himself 'yours affectionately,' to a document commenced in the third person. so he does, child, and he proved himself essentially polite by writing the note--the hand is really very commendable. i have no doubt the young man will yet acquire considerable _note-ability_!" and throwing the tell-tale paper into the fire, the charitable commentator proceeded in his walk. "_a propos_"--"_a propos_" was echoed round the merry circle, as a servant handed a note to miss campbell. "miss fanny campbell," read her sister, and resigned the billet to its rightful owner. every one protested that it should be common property, unless its contents were a secret; and the blushing, half-pouting beauty was constrained to open and inspect her note where she sat. "i insist upon _fair play_ in miss fanny's case, also," said i, coming to the rescue, "and shall do myself the honor of acting as her champion." with that i spread out her gossamer handkerchief, and throwing it over the top of my cane, affected to screen the rosy face beside me. taking advantage of my _ruse_, my pretty favorite opened her note, and, partly retreating behind my broad shoulder, soon possessed herself of its contents. "there," said she, throwing it into the middle of the table, "you may all read it and welcome!" brown heads and black, sunny curls and chestnut "bands," were immediately clustered together over the prize, and fanny, springing away, like a bird, was, in a moment, perched on an arm of the large chair in which her father was now ensconced, with her arm around his neck, and her beaming eyes glancing out from his snowy locks. "let colonel lunettes see it, you rude creatures!" exclaimed my lively favorite, from her retreat, and the note was immediately presented to me. wiping my glasses with deliberation suitable to the occasion, i "pressed my hand upon my throbbing heart," and read as follows: "it will afford mr. howard parkman great pleasure to attend miss fanny campbell to a concert to be given by the "hungarian family," to-morrow evening. "if she will permit him that honor, mrs. and miss parkman, accompanied by mr. p., will call for miss campbell at half past seven o clock. "coleman st., "_tuesday p. m._" "that's another rival for you, colonel lunettes," exclaimed one of the girls. "i fear my doom is sealed!" returned the old soldier thus addressed, with an air of mock resignation. "but who is this formidable youth, miss campbell?" "a bostonian, i believe," replied the young lady; "cousin charley introduced him to us at mrs. gay's ball the other evening, and asked us to call upon his mother and sister--they are friends of his. he was here this morning with cousin charley, but we were out." "how stylish!" said one of our critical circle, re-examining the elegant billet of the stranger. "quite _au fait_, too, you see, young ladies," i added, "he invites miss fanny to go with a proper _chaperon_ to the concert, as he is so slightly acquainted with her." as i limped across the room towards them, i heard my friend say to his daughter, who still retained her seat, "certainly, unless you prefer to go with mr. blakeman." "oh, pa!" protested the sweet girl, "but what excuse shall i make to mr. blakeman?" "tell him, in terms, that your father does not permit you to go anywhere, alone, with a young man with whom he has no acquaintance--lunettes, you're not going?" rising as he spoke. "it is high time--my carriage must be waiting. miss fanny, permit me the privilege of an old friend,"--kissing her glowing cheek--and, as she skipped out into the hall with her father and me, i whispered--"about this young bostonian? is it all over with him?" "what, hal--jealous?" exclaimed her father, laughing--"do you fear the flight of our gazelle, here?" "no danger of my eloping! no, indeed! at least with any one except--_colonel lunettes_!" replied the charming little witch, as her nimble fingers fastened my wrappings. "bravo!" cried her father; "that would be glorious! seventeen and"---- "eighty-two," interrupted your old uncle; "may and december! but, happily for me, fair fanny, _my heart_ can never grow old while i have the happiness of knowing you." * * * * * i hope none of you will ever, even when writing in a foreign language, fall into the mistake made by a young pole, with whom i once had a slight acquaintance. he was paying his addresses to a young lady, and, while most assiduously making his court to the fair object of his passion, was temporarily separated from her, by her leaving home on a pleasure excursion. at the first stopping-place of her party, the lady found a letter awaiting her, written in the neatest manner, and in excellent english--which her lover _spoke_ in a _very_ imperfect manner. it appeared to the recipient of this complimentary effusion, however, at the first glance, that its contents were not especially relevant to the occasion of a first _billet-doux_ from her admirer. reading it more deliberately, something familiar in the language struck her suddenly, and after pondering a moment, she turned over the leaves of a new book which was among the literary stores of our travelling-party, and soon came to the exact counterpart of passage after passage, as recorded in the letter of the gallant pole! the volume was, i think, "hannah more's memoirs," which had probably been recommended to the young student of our language by his teacher, or some friend, as containing good _specimens of the epistolary style_! * * * * * with the hope that you may all escape being the subjects of such merriment as was occasioned by the discovery of my fair friend, i remain, as ever, affectionately yours, harry lunettes. letter ix. accomplishments. my dear nephews: though accomplishments are a very poor substitute for the more substantial portions of a thorough education, no one should be so indifferent to the embellishments of life as wholly to neglect their cultivation. with europeans some attention to this subject always makes part of a thorough education, but among a _new people_, differing so essentially from the nations of the old world in social habits, the leisure and inclination that induce such a system of early discipline are both still wanting--speaking generally. it is not the lack of wealth--of that we have enough--but of a cultivated, discriminating taste, the growth of time and favoring circumstances, which is not yet diffused among us. but, though our young men, even of the more favored class, do not enjoy the carefully-elaborated system of early training, common abroad, personal effort will produce a result similar in effect, if well-directed and steadfastly pursued, and the best of all knowledge--that most beneficial in its influence upon character--is acquired by unaided individual exertion. young americans, above the men of all other countries, should lack no incentive to add, as occasion may permit, tasteful polish to the more essential solidity of mental acquirements. i know of nothing better calculated to foster refinement and purity of life than the cultivation of a _taste_ for the _fine arts_. i do not refer to a _dillettante_ affectation of familiarity with the technicalities of artistic language, or to fashionable pretension and an assumption of connoisseurship, but to honest, manly, æsthetical perceptions, quickened and elevated by familiarity with the true principles of art, and by the study of the highest productions of genius. some knowledge of the practice, as well as of the principles of _drawing_, is a very agreeable and useful accomplishment, and one that may be acquired with little or no instruction, save that to be obtained from books. among the advantages collaterally arising from familiarity with this art, is the increased quickness and enjoyment it lends to a _discernment of the beautiful_ in nature, both in its minute manifestations and its grand developments. a fondness for _sketching_ leads, also, to a partiality for rural excursions, and for the physical sciences; and all those tastes where the main purposes of life permit their indulgence, serve to elevate, refine, and expand the higher faculties, to give them habitual dominion over the propensities and to restrain sensuous enjoyments within their legitimate limits. _a taste for music_ must, of course, be ranked among the elegances of social life, but it should not be forgotten that a _practical knowledge_ of any one branch of this art has no direct effect to enlarge the mind, like that of painting, for instance. it is only a sensuous pleasure, though a refined one, and is, as i have had frequent occasion to remark, too frequently permitted to engross both time and faculties that should properly be, in part, at least, more diffusively employed. musical skill, though a pleasant acquirement, is not a sufficient substitute for an acquaintance with general literature and art; nor will its most exquisite exhibitions always furnish an equivalent for intellectual pleasures, whether of a personal or social nature. _dancing_ should be early learned, not only because, like musical knowledge, it is a source of social and domestic enjoyment, but as materially assisting in the acquirement of an easy and graceful carriage and manner. it is a good antidote, too, to _mauvaise honte_, and almost essential among the minor accomplishments of a man of the world. _riding_ and _driving_ should never be neglected by those who possess the means of becoming familiar with them. convenience, health and pleasure combine to recommend both. no indulgence of the _pride of skill_, however, should be permitted to exalt these accessories of a polite education into the main business of life, as i believe i have before reminded you. the _broadsword exercise_, _pistol-shooting_, _athletic sports and games_, _sporting_, _gymnastic exercises_, etc., etc., may be ranked among the minor manly accomplishments with which it is desirable to be familiar. of no small importance, and of no insignificant rank as an accomplishment, is a _ready and graceful elocution_. possessed by professional men, its value can scarcely be overrated, and no young man, whatever his aims in life, should esteem it unworthy of attention, since private as well as public life afford constant occasion for its exercise. to read _intelligibly_, _audibly_, and _agreeably_, to speak with taste and elegance, to address an audience--whether a mass assemblage of the sovereign people, or the servants of the people, in congress assembled, or an intelligent audience gathered for intellectual instruction and enjoyment, each require careful and persevering practice, critical discrimination and disciplined taste. and what young american--with that control of circumstances which especially distinguishes us from all other peoples, with the high aspirations and purposes to which all are equally entitled--shall say that he will not have the most urgent occasion for, and derive high advantage from the acquisition of the _art of elocution_? but, apart from considerations of utility, correct speaking and writing are indispensable requisites to the privileges of good society, and elegant polish in this respect is the desirable result and certain indication of natural refinement. i will only add that elocutionary skill always affords the possessor the means of promoting social and domestic enjoyment, and that the finest sentiments and the most eloquent language lose half their proper effect when uttered in a mumbling or muttering tone, as well as in too loud or too low a voice. closely allied to the accomplishment of which we have been speaking, is that of _conversational ease and elegance_, an art in which all other nations are excelled by the french, and in which we, perhaps, most successfully emulate them. unfortunately for our social advancement in this respect, "_the well of english undefiled_" is not the only source from which the _vehicle of thought_ is derived. the use of slang phrases, of crack words, even among the better educated classes of society--and that in writing as well as in conversation--is becoming noticeably prevalent. nothing can be more detrimental to the advancement of those who desire to acquire colloquial polish than the habit of using this inelegant language, and there is nothing into which one may glide more insensibly, when it becomes familiar from association. you will, perhaps, say that the amusement afforded to others by the occasional adoption of these mirth-provoking vulgarisms affords an apology for their use; and that would be a legitimate excuse, did the matter end there. but who can hope successfully to establish the line of demarcation that shall separate the legitimate sphere of their applicability from that in which they cannot properly claim a place? we know how much we are all under the dominion of _habit_ in regard to the artificial observances of life, and that once established, any practice in which we indulge ourselves may manifest itself unconsciously to us. hence, then, it is no more safe to acquire the habit of interlarding our discourse with inelegances of expression, ungrammatical language, yankeeisms, _localisms_ (to coin a word if it be not one, more expressive here than _provincialisms_) or vulgarisms of any kind, than to permit ourselves the perpetration of other solecisms in good-breeding, with the protection only of a _mental limitation_ to their undue encroachment upon our claims to refined associations. there is, therefore, no safe rule, except that dictating the unvarying adoption of the _purest and most expressive idiomatic english_ we can command. i remember to have heard it said of a celebrated conversationist, whom i knew in my younger days, that he not only always used a _good_ word to express his meaning, but the _very best_ word afforded by our language. the habit of _thinking clearly_ might naturally be supposed to produce the power of conveying ideas to others with distinctness, were not the impression controverted by much evidence to the contrary. i must believe, however, that the difference between persons, in this respect, arises more frequently from want of attention to the subject, than from all other causes combined. i know of no other way of sufficiently explaining the awkward, slipshod, unsatisfactory mode of talking so common even among educated people. were we accustomed to regarding conversational pleasures as among the highest enjoyments of existence, and of making them a part of our daily life--as the french of all ranks do--a vast difference would exist between what is, and what might be. with what intensity of interest, with what vivacity of manner do the polite and cultivated french _talk_! the _salons_ of the leaders of _ton_ in paris are nightly filled with the literati, the artists, the soldiers and statesmen concentered in that brilliant capitol. and they assemble not to eat, not even to dance, to the exclusion of all other gratifications, but to _talk_--to exchange ideas upon topics and incidents of passing interest--to receive and to communicate instruction, as well as enjoyment. and even the common people--whether eating their frugal evening repast at a little table placed in the street, or seated in groups in the garden of the tuileries--how they talk! with what _abandon_--to use their own word--with what geniality, with what sprightliness! the very children, sporting like so many birds of gorgeous plumage, and musical tones, in the public gardens and promenades, prattle of matters interesting to them, with a graceful vivacity nowhere else to be seen. all classes give _themselves up to it--take time for it_, as one of the necessities of daily life! but i should apologize for this digression. the advantage of _habitual practice_, then, cannot be too highly commended to those who would acquire colloquial skill. there is, also, no better mode of fastening knowledge in the mind than by accustoming one's self to clothing ideas in spoken language, and the mere attempt to do so, gives distinctness to thought. but while fluency and ease are the results of practice, the _embellishments_ of _conversation_ require careful culture. wit, humor, repartee, though to some extent natural gifts, may undoubtedly be improved, if not attained, by artificial training. it is said that sheridan, one of the most celebrated wits and conversationists of his day, prepared himself for convivial occasions, like an intellectual gladiator, ready to enter the lists in a valiant struggle for supremacy. he may be said to have made conversation a _profession_, to which he gave his whole attention, as did the celebrated youth who exceeded all his fellows in the tie of his neck-cloth, to that mysterious art! sheridan's practice was, to make brief notes, before going into society, of appropriate topics and witticisms for each occasion, upon which he relied for sustaining his reputation as a boon companion and accomplished talker. there is a good story told of his being exceedingly nonplussed, on some important occasion, by having his memoranda purloined by a friend, who, while waiting to accompany the wit to an entertainment to which both were invited, stole his thunder from his dressing-table, where it had been placed in readiness. the unlucky literary boanerges was as powerless as jupiter robbed of his bolts! but if one would not desire preparation as elaborately artificial as that ascribed to this spoiled fondling of english aristocracy, there seems to be a propriety in making some mental, as well as external arrangements before entering society. thus, passingly to reflect, while making one's toilet for such an occasion, upon the general character of the company one is to meet, and upon the subjects most appropriate for conversation with those with whom one will probably be individually associated, may not be amiss. nor will it be unwise to recall such reminiscences of personal adventures, popular intelligence, etc., as the day may have furnished. happily, however, for those who distrust their power to surprise by erudition, or delight by wit, _good-sense_, accompanied by _good-humor_ and _courtesy_, render their possessors the most enduringly agreeable of social and domestic companions. the _favorites of society_ are usually those who wound no one's self-love, either by imposing upon others a painful sense of inferiority, or by rudeness, impertinence, or assumption. few have sufficient magnanimity to _forgive superiority_, but good-nature and politeness need no excuse with any. "oh, let the ungentle spirit learn from hence, _a small unkindness is a great offence_! * * * * * _all may shun the guilt of giving pain._" wit, however racy, should never find a place in conversation when pointed at the expense of another, and, indeed, _personalities_, even when free from condemnation on this score, are usually in bad taste. people of sensibility and refinement are much more likely to be annoyed than gratified by being made the auditors of conversation, even when politely intended, which brings them into especial notice. hence, nothing requires more delicacy and tact than the _language of compliment_, which should always be carefully distinguished from that of mere flattery. the one is the expression of well-bred courtesy, the other is oppressive and embarrassing to all rightly constituted persons, and discreditable to the taste by which it is dictated. as a general rule, it is better to talk of things than of persons, and william penn's rule to "_say nothing of others, unless you can say something good of them_," should have no exception. let nothing tempt you into the habit of indulging in gossip, scandal, and unmanly puerility--not even a good-natured desire to assimilate yourself to the companionship of temporary associates. in this respect, as in many others, "vice is a monster of such hideous mien, as to be hated, needs but to be seen; but seen too oft, familiar with her face, we first endure, then pity, then embrace." no conscientiously-enlightened man can reflect for a moment upon the heinousness of _slander_, or indeed of evil speaking when not allied with falsehood, without abhorrence; and yet, how few can assume that, in heaven's high chancery, there is no such dark record against them. permit me to remind you that a mere difference of _intonation_ or of _emphasis_, in repeating conversational remarks, will sometimes suffice to convey a wholly erroneous impression to others, and that a mysterious glance, a nod, a shrug, a smile, may be made equivalent to the "offense of _spoken words_." i have recommended the adoption of good, pure english as the most unexceptionable colloquial coin. recurring to this point, let me express the opinion that the most pretentious, or erudite language, is not always that best adapted to the purposes of practical life. no one is bound to speak ungrammatically or incorrectly, even when communicating with the illiterate, but the _simplest_ phraseology, as well as the most laconic, is often the most appropriate and expressive, under such circumstances. companionship with the educated justifies the use, without justly incurring the charge of _pedantry_, of every mode of conveying ideas that we are assured is _intelligible_ to them. thus classical scholars may use the learned languages, if they will, in mutual intercourse; and the popular and familiar words and phrases we have borrowed from the french, are often a convenient resource, under similar circumstances. all this is best regulated by good-breeding and taste. it is always desirable to err on the safe side, where there is a possibility of misapprehension, or of incurring the imputation of affectation, or of a love of display. this last consideration, by the way, affords an additional incentive to the selection of such companionship as is best suited to elicit the exercise of conversational grace, and stimulate the mental cultivation upon which it must be based. in addition to this advantage, is that thus afforded of familiarizing one's self with the usages of those who may be regarded as _models_ for the inexperienced. the modesty so becoming in the young, will inspire a wish to _listen_ rather than talk; but--though to be an attentive and interested listener is one of the most agreeable and expressive of compliments--remember that _practice_, if judiciously directed, cannot be too soon attempted, to secure this desirable attainment. these remarks, i am fully aware, have been desultory and digressive, but they were designed to be rather suggestive than satisfactory; and experimental knowledge will, i trust, more than compensate you for my conscious deficiencies. i will add only a general remark or two, and then no longer tax your patience. the ladies--dear creatures!--are most prone, it must be admitted, to the use of _exaggerated_ language, in conversation; with them the superlative form of the adjective will alone suffice for the full expression of feeling or opinion. but this peculiarity is by no means confined to those in whom enthusiasm and its natural expression are most becoming. the sterner sex are far from being exempt from this habit, which often involves _looseness of thought_, _inaccuracy of statement_, or _positive untruthfulness_. it is desirable, as _a point of ethics_, to practise care in this regard. using the strongest forms of expression on ordinary occasions, leaves one no _reserved corps_ of language for those requiring unusual impressiveness. _accuracy_ is the great essential, many times, in the choice of language. a clear idea, clearly and unequivocally expressed, is indicative of a good and well-disciplined intellect, each, as i have before intimated, the result of _attention_ and _practice_. well-bred people are careful, when obliged to differ with others in conversation, to do so in polite language, and never to permit the certainty of being in the right to induce a dictatoral or assuming manner. when only a difference of opinion or of taste is involved, young persons, particularly, should scrupulously abstain from any appearance of obstinacy, or self-sufficiency, and defend their impressions, if at all, with a courteous deference to others. usually, nothing is gained by argument in general society. no one is convinced, because no one wishes to be, and many persons, even when 'convinced, will argue still,' because unwilling, from wounded self-love, to admit it. much acrimony of feeling is engendered in this way--pertinacity often causing an unpleasant conclusion to what was begun in entire good-feeling. no one is bound to renounce a claim to his individual rights in this respect, but modesty and courtesy will never sit ill upon the young, while steadfastly defending even a point of principle. "never," said mr. madison, in an admirable letter of advice to a nephew, "_never forget that, precisely in proportion as you differ from others in opinion, they differ with you_." let me add, that they who are honestly seeking knowledge and truth, will carefully review and re-weigh opinions, tastes, and principles in regard to which they find themselves differing essentially with those whom age, experience, and learning render their admitted superiors. and if contradiction and opinionativeness are inadmissible in good society, at least equal taste and tact are required in conveying information to others. some graceful phrase, some self-renouncing admission or explanation, which may secure you from the envy or dislike that wounded vanity might otherwise engender, should not be forgotten when circumstance or education give you an advantage over others in the intercourse of domestic or social life. "as in smooth oil the razor best is whet, so wit is by politeness sharpest set; their want of edge from their offense is seen, both pain us least when exquisitely keen, _the fame men give is for the joy they find_!" it is usually in bad taste to talk of one's self in general society. humility of language, in this respect, may easily be interpreted into insincerity, and it is at least equally difficult, on the other hand, to avoid the imputation of egotism. frankness with those to whom you are bound by the ties of friendship, will, many times, be the best proof you can give of the sincerity of your confidence and regard, but this will in no degree interfere with a certain _self-abnegation_ in ordinary social intercourse. politeness may dictate our being listened to with a semblance of interest, when our own health, affairs, adventures, or misfortunes are the subject of detailed discourse on our part, but the sympathy of the world is not easily enkindled, and pity is often mingled with contempt. people go into society to be amused, not to have their courtesy taxed by appeals to sensibilities upon which others have no claim. carlyle has well said, "_silently swallow the chagrins of your position; every position has them_." and it is so; but one's "private griefs" are not lessened by exposure, nor made more endurable by being constantly the theme, either of one's thoughts or conversation. let me add that their legitimate use is to teach us a ready sympathy with the sorrows and trials of others, rather than a hardened self-engrossment. while you endeavor, therefore, to "conceal yoursel' as weel's ye can frae critical dissection," seek to excel in personal agreeability, not for the sake of superiority so much as to secure the means of giving pleasure to others, and of entitling yourself to the favorable regard of those whose society it is desirable to enjoy. even the readiest admirers of wit may weary of the very brilliancy of its flashes, if the coruscations too constantly recur, as the eye tires of sheet-lightning, often repeated; but who will weary of geniality, amiability, and "good breeding, the blossom of good sense," any sooner than will the eye of the lambent light of fair diana? no single characteristic of conversation, perhaps, so universally commends the possessor to the favor of society, as _cheerfulness_. "_a laugh_," said an eminent observer of society, "_is the best vocal music; it is a glee in which everybody can take part!_" i remember, once, being for some weeks in a hotel with a number of invalids, one of whom, though a constant sufferer, always met me with a pleasant smile, and uttered his passing salutations in a voice cheery as a hunter's horn. really, his simple "good morning, colonel lunettes," was so replete with good-humor, courtesy, and cheerfulness, as to do one good like a cordial. it so impressed me that, at length, i responded, "good morning, _cheerful sir_,--i believe you never fail to greet your friends in a manner that gives them pleasure." his pleasant smile grew pleasanter, and his bright eye brighter, as he replied--"i always make _a principle_ of speaking cheerfully to the sick, especially--they, of all others, are most susceptible to outward impressions." "there is a world of philosophy, as well as of humanity, in what you say," returned i, "and i can personally testify to the good effects of your kindly habit." but it is not alone the sick, the sad, or the sensitive who hail a cheerful companion with delight--these _human sunbeams_ bring warmth and gladness to all--even the least susceptible feel the effects of their genial presence, almost unconsciously, and frequently seek and enjoy their conversation when even elegance and erudition would fail of attraction. the same tact and self-respect that will preserve you from exhibitions of vanity and egotism, will dictate discrimination in the selection of topics of conversation, bearing upon matters of taste and sentiment, as well as of opinion and principle.--all affectation or assumption of superiority in this respect is offensive and worse than useless. those with whom you have mental affinities will understand and appreciate you; but beware, especially if sensitively constituted, how you expose your sensibilities to the ridicule, or your principles to the professed distrust of those with whom, for any reason, you cannot measure colloquial weapons upon entirely equal terms. on the contrary, again, no well-bred man ever rudely assails either the predilections or the principles of others in general society. this is no more the proper arena for intellectual conflicts than for political sparring, or theological disputes. whatever tends to disturb the general harmony of a circle, or to give pain to any one present, is inexcusable, however truthful and important in the abstract, however wise or witty in itself considered, may be observations tending to either or both results. this brings me to dwelling a moment upon a kindred point--the discourtesy sometimes exhibited by young men towards ladies and clergymen, in the use of equivocal language, and the introduction of exceptionable subjects in their hearing. anything that will crimson the cheek of true womanhood, or invade the _unconsciousness_ of _innocence_, is unworthy and unmanly, to a degree of which it is not easy to find language to express sufficient abhorrence. the defencelessness of the dependent sex, in this, as in all other respects, is their best protection with all who-- "give the world assurance of a _man_!" and the same shield is presented by those whose profession precludes their adopting the means of self-defence permitted to the world at large. nothing can be more vulgar--setting aside the immorality of the thing--than to speak disrespectfully of religion, or of its advocates and professors, in society--what then shall be said of those who assail the ears of the acknowledged champions of christianity with infidel sentiments, contemptuous insinuations, or profane expletives? depend upon it, a _man of the world_, whatever his honest doubts, or unorthodox convictions, will be as little likely to present himself as a mark in regard to these matters for the _suspicious distrust_, or the _palpable misapprehension_ of society, as to subject himself to the charges of extreme _juvenility_ and _low breeding_ by assailing a clergyman with ridicule, or a woman with libertinism, however exquisite may be his wit in the one case, or apparently refined his insinuations, in the other. while recommending to your attention the selection of suitable and tasteful subjects of general conversation, i should not omit to remind you that nothing but acknowledged intimacy sanctions the manifestation of curiosity respecting the affairs of others. as a rule, _direct questions_ are inadmissible in good society. listen with politeness to what may be voluntarily communicated to you by your associates, regarding themselves, but on no account, indulge an impertinent curiosity in such matters; and when courtesy sanctions the manifestation of interest, express your desire for information in polite language, and with a half-apologetic manner, that will permit reserve, without embarrassment to either party. let me add, that an uncalled-for exhibition of your familiarity with the private affairs of a friend, when his own presence and manner should furnish your proper clue to his wishes, is to prove yourself unworthy of his confidence. as well might one boast of his acquaintance with the great, or assume an unceremonious manner towards them, on unsuitable occasions. in either case, one is liable to the repulse sustained by an unfortunate candidate for fashionable distinction, who, approaching a member of english _haut ton_ in the streets of london, said, "i believe i had the honor of knowing you in the country, sir."--"_when we again meet in the country_," was the reply, "i shall be pleased to renew the acquaintance!" _quickness of repartee_ may be reckoned among the graces of the colloquial art, and those who are gifted with activity of intellect, and have acquired facility in the use of expressive language, should possess the power thus to embellish their social intercourse. every one is now and then inspired in this way, i believe; but few persons, comparatively, even among the most practised conversationists, excel in this respect. how few, for instance, would have responded as readily, in an emergency, as did the half-drunk servant of swift: "is my fellow here?" inquired the dean, pushing open the door of a low tavern much frequented by his often-missing _valet_. a nondescript figure came staggering forward, and stuttered out--"_your l-lordship's f-a-l-l-o-w can't b-be f-found in all i-ire-ireland!_" i have lately met, somewhere in my reading, with the following anecdote of the elder adams, as he is frequently called. i remember, at this moment no better illustration of ready repartee: "how are you this morning, sir?" asked a friend who called to pay his respects to this patriotic son of new england, during the latter days of his life. "not well," replied the invalid; "i am not well. i inhabit a weak, frail, decayed tenement, open to the winds, and broken in upon by the storms, and what is worse, _from all i can learn, the landlord does not intend to make repairs_!" _a ready and graceful reply to a compliment_, may, also, be regarded as a conversational embellishment. it is not polite to _retort_ to the language of courtesy with a charge of insincerity, or of flattery. _playfulness_ frequently affords the best resource, or the _retort courteous_, as in lord nelson's celebrated reply to lady hamilton's questions of "why do you differ so much from other men? why are you so superior to the rest of your sex?" "if there were more emmas, there would be more nelsons." one may say, "i fear i owe your commendation to the partiality of friendship;" or, "i trust you may never be undeceived in regard to my poor accomplishments;" or, "really, madam, your penetration enables you to make discoveries for me." then again, to one of the lenient sex, one may reply--"mrs. blank sees all her friends through the most becoming of glasses--her own eyes." and to an older gentleman, who honors you with the fiat of a compliment, thus proving that it may sometimes be false that "the vanquished have no friends," "really, sir, i do not know whether i am most overwhelmed by admiration for your wit and politeness, or by gratitude for your kindness." or some phrase like this will occasionally be appropriate--"i am afraid, sir, i shall plume myself too highly upon your good opinion. you do me much honor;" or, "it will be my _devoir_, as well as my happiness, for the future, to deserve your commendation, sir;" or, "you inspire as much as you encourage me, dear sir--if i possess any claim to your flattering compliment, you have yourself elicited it." to a compliment to one's wit, or the like, one may reply--"dullness is always banished by the presence of miss ----;" or, "who could fail to be, in some degree, at least, inspired in such a presence?" then, again, a reply like this will suffice--"i am only too happy in being permitted to amuse you, madam." permit me in this connection, a few words respecting _conversation with ladies_. though all mere silliness and twaddle should be regarded as equally unworthy of them and yourselves, yet, in general association with the fairest ornaments of creation, _agreeability_, rather than profundity, should be your aim, in the choice of topics. sensitive, tasteful, refined, "and variable as the shade by the light quivering aspen made," their vividness of imagination and sportiveness of fancy demand similarity of intellectual gifts, or the graceful tribute of, at least, temporary assimilation. _playfulness_, _cheerfulness_, _versatility_, and _courtesy_ should characterize colloquial intercourse with ladies; but the deference due them should never degenerate into mere servile acquiescence, or mawkish sentimentality. the utmost _refinement of language and of matter_ should always be regarded as essential, under such circumstances, to the discourse of a well-bred man; and should, of course, distinguish his _manner_ as well. thus, all slang phrases, everything approaching to _double entendre_, all familiarity of address, unsanctioned by relationship or acknowledged intimacy, all mis-timed or unsanctioned use of nick-names and christian names, are as inadmissible in good society as are personal familiarities, nudging, winking, whispering, etc. too much care cannot be taken in avoiding all subjects that may have the effect to wound or distress others. i think i have before remarked that people go into society for enjoyment--relaxation from the grave duties and cares of life--not to be depressed by the misanthropy of others, or disturbed by details of scenes of horror. i have known persons who had such a morbid taste for such things as always to insist upon reading aloud, even in the hearing of children and ladies, the frightful newspaper details of rail-road accidents and steamboat explosions. i remember, in particular, once having the misfortune to be acquainted with such a social incubus, to whom a death in the neighborhood was a regular god-send, and to whom the wholesale slaughter made by the collision of rail-cars served as colloquial capital for weeks--indeed until some provident body corporate supplied new material for his cormorant powers of mental digestion! his letters to distant friends were a regular _bill of mortality_, filled with minute accounts of the peculiar form of disease by which every old woman of his acquaintance was enabled to shuffle off this mortal coil, and of every accident that occurred in the country for miles around--from the sudden demise of a poor widow's cow, to the broken leg of a robber of bird's-nests! i shall never forget the revulsion of feeling he produced for me, one serene summer evening, as i was placidly strolling over the sands by the sea-shore, drinking in the glory of old neptune's wide-spread realm, by inflicting upon me, not only _himself_--which was enough for mortal patience--but a long rigmarole about the great numbers of fishes washed upon the shore by a recent storm, who had had their eyes picked out by birds of prey, while still struggling for life in an uncongenial element! on another occasion, i had the misfortune to be present when a young lady was thrown into violent hysterics by his mentioning, with as much _gusto_ as an inveterate "collector" would have exhibited in boasting the possession of a _steak_ from the celebrated "antediluvian beef," immortalized by cuvier,[ ] that he had picked up a small foot with a lady's boot on it, while visiting the scene of a late rail-road accident! [ ] speaking in one of his public lectures, of the recent discovery (amid the eternal snows of siberia, i think), of the carcass of a _mastodon_, upon which the hunting-dogs of the explorers had fed--"_thus_," said the great naturalist, "_did modern dogs gorge themselves upon antediluvian beef!_" but avoiding these aggravated forms of grossness is not enough. true politeness requires attention to the peculiarities of each of the company you are with--teaching, for instance, your abstaining from allusions to their personal defects or misfortunes, to the embarrassment of conversing with deaf persons, in the presence of those thus afflicted, to lameness, when some one present has lost a limb, to the peculiarities of age, in the hearing of elderly persons, to the vulgar impression that all lawyers are knaves, when one of the sons of that noble profession is among your auditors--to the murderous reputation of the disciples of esculapius, etc. this rule will teach, too, the use of a less offensive term than that of "old maid," when speaking of women of no particular age, in the hearing of such as are by courtesy only, without the pale alluded to; and the propriety of not appealing to such authority in relation to matters of remote personal remembrance! in no country with the social institutions of which i am familiar, do the peculiar opinions obtain, which prevail in this country respecting _age_. "young america" regards every one as old, apparently, who has attained majority, and _women_, in particular, are subjected to a most unjust ordeal in this respect. the french have a popular saying that no woman is agreeable until she is forty; and in both france and england, _marriage_--which first entitles a young lady to a decided position in society--usually occurs at a much later period in her life than with us. in neither of those countries are girls _brought out_ at an age when here they are frequently already mothers! but to return: nothing is more ill-bred, than this too frequent assumption of the claims of women to be exempt from social obligations and deprived of their proper places in society, in this country, while still retaining all their pristine claims to agreeability. polished manners, cultivated tastes and personal attractions, are not to have their claims abrogated by time. you remember the poet says: "the little loves are infants ever, the graces are of every age!" i well remember being intensely chagrined by an exhibition of under-breeding in this way while making a morning visit, with a young countryman of ours, upon a beautiful english girl, a distant relative of his. after discussing london fogs, and other kindred topics, jonathan suddenly burst forth, as if suddenly inspired with a bright thought. "how's the old lady?" the largest pair of blue eyes, opening to their full extent, turned wonderingly upon the querist. "your _mother_,--is she well this morning?" "mamma is pretty well, thank you; but it is not possible that you regard her as _old_! mamma is in the very prime of life, only just turned of five and forty! dear mother! she is looking very pale and sad in her widow's cap, but we have never thought of her as _old_," and a shadow, like the sudden darkening of a fair landscape, dimmed those deep blue eyes and that fine forehead. but enough upon this collateral point. i trust you will need no argument to convince you of the vulgarity and immorality of permitting yourselves the practice of _repeating private conversation_. nothing will more surely tend to deprive you of the respect and friendship of well-bred people, since nothing is more thoroughly understood in good society, than a tacit recognition of that essential security to social confidence and good-feeling which utterly interdicts the repetition of private conversation. let me only add to these rambling observations the assurance that a _ready compliance_ with the wishes of others, in exercising any personal accomplishment, is a mark of genuine good-breeding. * * * * * during one of my visits to london, some years since, the duke of ---- invited me to run down with him, for a few days, to his magnificent estate in ----shire. riding one morning with my host and a numerous party of his guests, we paused to breathe our horses, and enjoy the fine prospect, upon the summit of a hill overlooking the wide-spread acres of his lordship. "here the estate of my neighbor, mr. ----, joins my land," said the duke, pointing, with his riding-whip, towards a narrow, thickly-wooded valley, at our feet. "you catch a glimpse of his turrets through the oaks yonder. this spot always reminds me," pursued our host, laughing, "of an amusing incident of which it was the scene, years ago, when the family of my neighbor had not become as distinguished as it now is, among the philanthropists of the age. a young friend of ours, who was spending the shooting-season here with my sons, while eagerly pursuing his game, one morning, unconsciously trespassed upon the preserves of mr. ----. the report of his fowling-piece brought mr. ---- suddenly to his side, just as he was triumphantly bagging his bird. my excellent neighbor, with all his admirable qualities, is sometimes a little choleric, and you know, col. lunettes, [bowing and smiling] that nothing sooner rouses the ire of a true englishman, than an invasion of the _game laws_." "'sir!' cried mr. ----, in a voice trembling with ill-suppressed fury, 'do you know that you are trespassing,--that these are _my_ grounds?' "my young guest was not permitted fully to explain, before the angry man again burst forth with a tirade, which he concluded, by asking--'what would you do yourself, sir, under such circumstances? how would you feel disposed to treat a gentleman who had encroached upon your rights in this way?' "'well, really, sir, since you ask me, i think i should _invite him to go with me to the house and take a mouthful of lunch_!' "this was irresistible! even ----'s indignation was cooled by such inimitable _sang froid_, and he at once adopted the suggestion of the young sportsman. my witty guest not only secured the refreshment he needed, but, eventually, helped himself to a _bonne bouche_ of more substantial character, by his marriage with one of the blooming daughters of my neighbor, to whom he was introduced on that memorable occasion!" * * * * * a young american of my acquaintance, met, not long since, in the _salons_ of a distinguished _parisienne_, one of the most learnedly scientific of the french authors of our times. "i am as much surprised as i am delighted, to meet you here to-night, mr. ----," said my friend, "i supposed you too much occupied in profound research and study, to find time for such enjoyments." "i am, indeed, much occupied at present," returned the _savant_; "but i can neither more agreeably nor more profitably spend a portion of my time than in the society of my refined and cultivated friend, madame ----, and that of the intellectual and accomplished visitors i always meet at her house." * * * * * speaking, in the body of this letter, of the uselessness of _arguing_ with the hope of convincing others, reminded me, by association, of a little incident illustrative of my opinion, of which i was once a witness, during a summer sojourn at avon springs--a little quiet watering-place in the empire state, as you may know. there was a pleasant company of us, and our intercourse was agreeable and friendly--all, apparently, disposed to contribute to the general stock of amusement, and to make the most of our somewhat limited resources in the way of general entertainment. there were pretty daughters and managing mammas, heiresses, and ladies without fortune, who were quite as attractive as those whose fetters were of gold, the usual complement of brainless youths, antiquated bachelors and millionaire widowers (so reputed), with a sprinkling of nondescripts and old soldiers, like myself. it was our custom to muster, in great force, every morning, and go in a mammoth omnibus from our hotel to the "spring" to bathe and drink the delectable sulphur-water, there abounding. on these occasions, every one was good-humored, obliging, and cheerfully inclined to make sacrifices for the comfort and convenience of others. the _ladies_, especially, were the objects of particular care and courtesy, being always politely assisted up and down the high, awkward steps of our lumbering conveyance, with their bathing parcels, etc. ----"all went merry as a marriage bell," until one unlucky day when some theological point became matter of discussion between two men of opposite opinions, just as we were commencing our return-ride from the spring. others were soon drawn, first into listening, and then into a participation in the conversation, until almost every man in the company had betrayed a predilection for the distinctive tenets of some particular religious sect. thus, baptists, presbyterians, methodists, congregationalists, episcopalians, unitarians, and romanists stood revealed, each the ardent champion of his own peculiar views. the ladies had the good sense to remain silent, with the exception of an "equal rights" woman, whose wordy interposition clearly proved that "_fools rush in where angels fear to tread!_" well! of course, no one was convinced by this sudden outbreak of varied eloquence of the fallacy of opinions he had previously entertained, and of the superior wisdom of those of any one of his companions. indeed, so eager was each in the maintenance of his own ground, as scarcely to heed the arguments of his opponents, except as furnishing a fresh impulse for advancing his own with increasing pertinacity. presently, flushed cheeks, angry glances, and louder tones gave token that the meek spirit of the long-suffering _prince of peace_ was not dominant in the breasts of these, the professed advocates of his doctrines. rude language, too, gradually took the place of the professed courtesy with which the discussion had begun, and the ladies looked uneasily from the windows, as if to satisfy themselves that escape from such disagreeable association was near at hand. happily for them, our jehu, though unmindful of any particular occasion for haste, at length drew up before comstock's portico. but, in place of the usual patient waiting of each for his turn to alight, and the usual number of extended hands that were wont to aid the ladies in their descent, every one of the angry combatants crowded hastily out of the vehicle, almost before it had fairly stopped, wholly disregardful alike of the toes of his neighbors and the claims before universally accorded to the gentler portion of our company, and hurried up the steps, apparently forgetful of everything except the uncomfortable chafings of wounded self-love! each man, evidently, regarded himself as the most abused of mortals, and the rest as a parcel of obstinate fools, for whom it were a great waste of ammunition to assume the martyr's fate! and i am by no means sure, that the cheerful amicability that had before prevailed among us was ever fully restored after this unhappy outbreak of _religious feeling_! * * * * * the gayest of capitals experienced a sensation! the wittiest of circles, where all was wit, were, for once, content to listen only! the brave, the great, the learned, and the fair, contended for the smiles and the society of the marquis de plusesprit, the handsomest, the most accomplished, and the wittiest man in paris! one day, while this social _furore_ was at its height, a celebrated physician received a professional visit from an unknown, whose pale cheeks and sunken eyes bore testimony to the suffering to which he described himself as being a prey. the man of science prepared a prescription, but assured his patient that what would most speedily effect his restoration was change of scene and agreeable society. "seek in congenial companionship relief from the mental anxiety by which you are evidently oppressed," said the modern esculapius--"fly from study and self-contemplation;--above all, _court the society of the marquis de plusesprit_!" "alas! doctor," returned the stranger, "_i am plusesprit!_" * * * * * speaking of repartee, reminds me of a pretty scene of which i was a witness, not long since, while ruralizing for a week with an old friend and his charming daughters, at their beautiful and hospitable home, on the banks of the hudson. by the way, i have before introduced you to their acquaintance--the pleasant family of _letter-writing memory_!-- an elderly foreign gentleman, of large information and agreeable manners, but not one of fortune's favorites, had been dining with us, by special invitation, and the lovely daughters of my host had vied with each other in doing honor to one in whom sensitiveness may have been rendered a little morbid by the effect of the tyrant circumstance. every hour succeeding his arrival had served more effectually to melt away a certain constraint of manner, by which he seemed at first oppressed, and his expressive face grew bland and genial under the sunny influences of courteous respect and appreciation, until when he rose to go away at sunset, he seemed almost metamorphosed out of the man of the morning. the sisters three, accompanied their agreeable visitor to the vine-draped veranda, where i was already seated, attracted by the beauty of the evening, and of my local surroundings. i had been particularly admiring a fine large orange-tree, at the entrance of the porch, which was laden with flowers and fruit, and, with glittering pearls from a shower just bestowed upon it by the gardener. "will you not come again, before colonel lunettes leaves us, mr. ----?" asked my sweet young friend fanny, in her most cordial tones, linking her arm in that of one sister, and clasping the waist of the other, as she spoke, "we will invoke the loves and graces to attend you"---- "the graces!" exclaimed the guest, quickly,--extending his hands towards the group, and bowing profoundly--"then you will come yourselves!--_the graces are before me!_" and then he added, with a courtly air--"really, miss fanny, you too highly honor a rusty old man"---- "an old man," interrupted fanny, with the utmost vivacity, dissolving the "linked sweetness" that had intwined her with her sisters, and extending her beautiful arm towards the superb orange-tree before her, "an old man!--here is a fitting emblem of our friend mr. ----;--all the attractiveness of youth still mingled with the matured fruit of experience!" charming fanny! god bless her!--she is one of those earth-angels whose manifold gifts seem used only to give happiness to others! * * * * * i called one evening, not long since, to pay my respects to the daughter of a recently-deceased and much-valued friend. she had been persuaded into a journey to a distant city, in search of the health and spirits that had been exceedingly impaired by watching beside the death-bed of her departed mother. her appearance could scarcely fail, as it seemed to me, to interest the most insensible stranger to her history;--for myself, i was inexpressibly touched by the language of the colorless face and languid eyes to which a simple black robe lent additional meaning. just as i began to indulge a hope that the faint smile my endeavors at cheerful conversation had caused to flicker about her lips--as a rose-tint illumines for a moment the white summit of an alpine height--there entered the drawing-room of our hostess a bevy of noisy women, young and old, who gathered about the sofa, where my friend and i were seated near our hostess, and rattled away like so many pieces of small (very small!) artillery. i saw plainly that the mere noise was almost too much for the nerves of the silent occupant of the sofa corner; but what was my surprise at hearing them go into the most minute particulars respecting the recent death of a gentleman of our acquaintance! his dying words, his very death-struggles were carefully reported, and the grief of the survivors graphically described! unfortunately, having relinquished my seat beside the mourner to one of these women, i was powerless in my intense wish to attract her attention from the subject of their discourse; but my eyes were riveted upon her, with the keenest sympathy for the torture she must be undergoing. her pale face had gradually grown white as a moonbeam, until, at length, as though strengthened by desperation, she sprang from her seat, and essayed to leave the room. one step forward, a half-stifled sob, and the slender form lay extended on the floor in hapless insensibility. * * * * * "while mr. smith is tuning his guitar, let us beg mrs. williams to redeem her promise of reciting campbell's 'last man' for us," said a graceful hostess, mindful of the truth that some of her guests preferred eloquence and poetry to sweet sounds, and desirous, too, of drawing out the accomplishments of all her guests. mrs. williams, gifted with "the vision and the faculty divine," glanced a little uneasily at the ever-twanging guitar as she politely assented to the requests that eagerly seconded that of her hostess. mr. smith still continued to hum broken snatches of an air, twisting the screws of his instrument with complete self-engrossment, the while. "i will not interrupt mr. smith," said the lady, in more expressive tones than were ever elicited from catgut by the efforts of that gentleman, moving with a step graceful as that of a gazelle to the other end of the room. our little circle gathered about her, and enjoyed, in an exquisite degree, "the feast of reason, and the flow of soul," that so far surpasses the merely sensuous pleasure afforded by music, when not associated with exalted sentiment. as the company broke into little groups, after thanking mrs. williams for the high gratification for which we were her debtors, i overheard mr. smith say, with a discontented air, to a youth with a "_lovely moustache_," who had "accompanied" him in his previous musical endeavors, "i'll never bring my instrument _here_ again!" at this critical moment, our hostess approached with a water-ice, as a propitiatory offering, and expressed the hope that the guitar was now renewed for action. the musician, with offended dignity, only condescended to reply, as he deposited his idol in a corner-- "thank you, ma'am; i supposed your friends were _fond of music_!" * * * * * discussing the mooted subject of _beards_ one morning lately, with some sprightly young ladies of my acquaintance, the following specimen of quickness of repartee was elicited. i record it for your amusement. "among the ancients, i believe," said a fair girl, "a long, snowy beard was considered an emblem of the wisdom of the possessor." "and how is it in modern times?" inquired another lady, "does wisdom keep pace, in exact proportion with length of beard?" "no, indeed," exclaimed the first speaker, laughingly, "for, "if beards long and bushy true wisdom denote, then plato must bow to a hairy he-goat!" * * * * * what would an educated foreigner--kossuth, for instance, who learned english _by the study of shakspeare_--make of the following specimens of colloquial american language? "do tell, jul," exclaimed a young lady, "where _have_ you been marvelling to? you look like time in the primer!" "no you don't," returned the young lady addressed, "you can't come it over dis chil'!" "no, no," chimed in a youth of the party, "you can't come it quite, miss lib! don't try to poke fun at us!" "you've all been _sparking_ in the woods, i guess!" "oh, ho," laughed one of the speakers, "i thought you'd get it through your hair, at last--that's rich!" "why!" retorted the interlocutor, tartly, "do you think i don't know tother from which?" "i think you 'know beans' as well as most hoosiers," replied her particular admirer, in a tone of unmistakable blandishment. "everybody knows jul's _some pumpkins_," admitted one of her fair companions. "come, jul, rig yourself in a jiffy," said a bonny lassie, who had not yet spoken, "you are in for a spree!" "what's in the wind--who's to stand the shot?" cautiously inquired the damsel addressed. "we're bound on a spree, i tell you! you must be _green_ to think we'll own the corn now! come, fix up, immediately, if not sooner!" so saying, the energetic speaker seized her friend round the waist and gallopaded her out of the room. presently some one said, "well, jul and lotty have made themselves scarce!--i----by george, it makes a fellow open his potato-trap to hang around waitin' so," and an expansive yawn attested the sincerity of this declaration. "i could scare up my traps a heap sight quicker, i reckon, and tote 'em too, from here to the river, nigger fashion," rejoined a southerner, of the group. "some chicken fixins and pie doins wouldn't be so bad--would they, though?" whispered a tall, western man to his next neighbor. "and a little suthin to wet your whistle, too," added another, overhearing the remark--"you're a trump, anyhow!" "then you do _kill a snake_, sometimes, mr. smith," inquired one of his auditors, smiling significantly. "does your anxious mother know you're out?" retorted mr. smith, twirling his fingers on his nose. "don't be wrathy, smith--what's your tipple, old fellow?" put in one of the young men, soothingly stroking the broad shoulders of that interesting youth. "you're e pluribus--you're a brick," returned mr. smith, softening, "but where in thunder are those female women? they'ave sloped and given us the mitten, i spose"---- "you ain't posted up, my boy, if you think they'd given us the slip," answered his friend. "by jingo! it takes the patience of all the world and the rest of mankind to dance attendance upon them--they ain't as peart as our _gals o' wind_!" cried mr. smith, in an ecstasy of impatience. "how's your ma, mr. john smith?" inquired the merry voice of "jul," who had entered unperceived, "you'd better dry up!" "here we are, let's be off," shouted a young gentleman. "all aboard," echoed another. "now we'll go it with a rush!" burst from a third, and, suiting the action to the word, my _dramatis personæ_ vanished like the wind. * * * * * having the happiness to pass a morning at the _louvre_ with my early and lamented friend, washington allston, he said to me, as arm in arm we sauntered slowly through one of the galleries--"come and study one of my particular favorites with me--one might as well attempt to taste all the nondescript dishes at a chinese state-dinner as to enjoy every picture in a collection, at a single visit. i do not even glance at more than one or two, unless i know that i shall have months before me for renewing my inspection--better take away one distinct recollection, to add to one's _private collection_, than half a dozen confused, imperfect copies!" i think it was a _murillo_ before which the artist paused while speaking; the celebrated work representing a monk, who had been interrupted by death while writing his own biography, as being permitted to return to earth to complete his self-imposed task. i am not sure but this picture, however, was added some years later to the treasures of the louvre, by napoleon--for we were both young men then--however, it matters not. i was quite as much occupied in observing the _living picture_ before me, as that of the great master. and, though memory has proved somewhat treacherous, i still vividly recollect the spiritualized face of this true child of genius, as he contemplated the magnificent impersonation. his brow grew radiant, and his eye! ah, who shall portray that soul-lit eye, or justly record the poetic language that fell, almost unconsciously, from his half-inspired lips! sacredly are they cherished among the hoarded memories of youthful friendship? it was only my purpose to recall for your benefit the opinion and practice of one so fully competent to advise in relation to our subject. what disraeli has somewhere said of eating, may, with equal nicety of epicureanism, be applied to the enjoyment of ideal art, and of that of which it is the type--natural beauty:--"to eat, really to eat," asserts the discriminatingly sensuous jew, "one should eat alone, in an easy dress, by a soft light, and of a single dish at a time!" for myself--but there's no accounting for tastes!--i should desire on all such occasions, "one fair spirit for my minister," or rather, for my sympathizing companion! * * * * * as an illustration of the advantage to a man in public life, of _ready elocution and ready wit_, let me sketch for you a little scene of which i was the amused and interested witness, one morning some months ago, while on a visit at washington. a _chaplain_ was to be elected for the house of representatives. general granger, of new york, proposed a soldier of the revolution as well as of the cross--the rev. mr. waldo--adding a few impressive facts in relation to his venerable and interesting friend--as that he was then in his ninety-fourth year, had borne arms for his country in his youth, etc. upon this, some member, upon the _opposition benches_, as the english say, called out: "what are his claims? where did he serve?" "the gentleman will permit me to refer him to the pension office," returned general granger, with the most smiling urbanity; "he will there find the more satisfactory answer to his queries." "what are mr. waldo's politics?" "though a most amiable gentleman and devout christian, he belongs, sir, to--the _church militant_!" "is he a _filibuster_?" "even so, sir! mr. waldo filibustered for the _old thirteen_, against george the third, in the american revolution!" i am, my dear boys, as ever, your affectionate, "uncle hal." letter x. habit. my dear friends: if you wish to have power to say, in the words of the imperial slave of the beautiful egyptian, "let me, . . . . . . . with those hands that grasp'd the heaviest club, subdue my worthiest _self_," you must not wholly overlook the importance of _habit_, while establishing your system of life. always indicative of character, habit may yet, to a certain extent, do us the greatest injustice, through mere inadvertency. indeed, few young persons attach much importance to such matters, until compelled by necessity to unlearn, with a painful effort, what has been insensibly acquired. permit me, then, a few random suggestions, intended rather to awaken your attention to this branch of a polite education, than to furnish elaborate directions in relation to it. judging from the prevalent tone of social intercourse among our countrymen, both at home and abroad, one might naturally make the inference, that most of them regard _rudeness_ and _republicanism_ as synonymous terms. depend upon it, that as a people, we are retrograding on this point. our upper class--or what would fain be deemed such--in society, may more successfully imitate the fashionable follies and conventional peculiarities of the old world, than their predecessors upon the stage of action did; but fashion is not good breeding, any more than arrogant assumption, or a defiant independence of the amenities of life, is true manliness. breaking away from the ceremonious old school of habit and manner, we are rapidly running into the opposite extreme, and the masses who, with little time or inclination for personal reflection, on such subjects, naturally take their clue, to some extent, from the assumed exponents of the laws of the fickle goddess, exaggerating the value of the defective models they seek to imitate, into the grossest caricature of the whole, and, mistaking rudeness for ease, and impudence for independence, so defy all abstract propriety, as, if not to "make the angels weep," at least to mortify and disgust all observant, thinking men, whose love and pride of country sees in trifles even, indications more or less auspicious to national advancement. all this defiance of social restraint, this professed contempt for the suavities and graces that should redeem existence from the complete engrossment of actualities, is bad enough at home; but its exhibition abroad is doubly humiliating to our national dignity. every american who visits foreign countries, whether as the accredited official representative of his government, or simply in the character of a private citizen, owes a duty to his native land, as one of those by the observance of whom strangers are forming an estimate of the social and political advancement of the people who are making the great experiment of the world, and upon whom the eyes of all are fixed with a peculiar and scrutinizing interest. it has been well said of us, in this regard, that "_our worst slavery is the slavery to ourselves_." trammelled by the narrowest social prejudices at home, americans, breaking loose from these restraints abroad, run riot, like ill-mannered school-boys, suddenly released from the discipline which, from its very severity, prompts them to indulge in the extreme of license. thus, we lately had accounts of the humiliating conduct of some americans, who, being guests one night at the tuileries, actually so far forgot all decency as to intrude their drunken impertinence upon the personal observation of the emperor! and, when informed, the next morning, that, at the instance of their insulted host, the police had followed them, when they left the palace, to ascertain whether they were not suspicious characters who had surreptitiously obtained admittance to the imperial fête, they are reported to have pronounced the intelligence "_rich!_" shame on such exhibitions!--they disgrace us nationally. if our countrymen would be content to learn from older peoples on these points, it would be well. in the elegant and ideal arts, in literature, in general science, the superiority of our predecessors in the history of progress, is cheerfully admitted. can we, then, learn nothing from the matured civilization of the old world in regard to the _art of living_? shall we defy the race to which we belong, on this point alone? this secret is possessed in greatest perfection by those who have longest studied its details, and some long existent nations who display little practical wisdom in matters of political science, are greybeard sages here. so then, let us learn from them what they can easily save us the trouble of acquiring by difficult experiments for ourselves, and, concentrating our energies upon higher objects, give them back a full equivalent for their knowledge of the best mode of serving the _lares_, the _muses_, and the _graces_, by a successful illustration of the truth, that _as a people we are capable of self-government_! we shall, then, no longer have the wife of an american minister ignorantly invading the court rules at madrid, by sporting the colors sacred to royal attire there, and so giving occasion for national offense, as well as individual conflict, nor furnish punch with material for the admonitory reflection that the bond of family union between john bull and his cousin jonathan must be somewhat uncertain "when so small a matter as the _tie of a cravat can materially affect the price of stocks_!" and, when vulgar bluster and braggadocio are no longer mistaken for the proper assertion of national and individual independence, we shall not have an american gentleman who, like our justly-distinguished countryman, george peabody, constantly exhibits the most urbane courtesy, alike towards foreigners and towards the citizens of the native country to which his life has been one prolonged pæan, accused of _toadying_, because he quietly conforms to the social usages of the people among whom he lives! but pardon me these generalities. i have been unintentionally led into them, i believe, by my keen sense of mortification at some of the incidents to which i have alluded. coming then to details, let us, primarily, resolve to be slaves to nothing and to no one--neither to others nor to ourselves; and to endeavor to establish such habits as shall entitle each of us, in the estimation of discriminating observers, to the distinctive name of _gentleman_. _constant association with well-bred and well-educated society_, cannot be too highly estimated as an assistant in the acquisition of the attributes of which we propose to speak. a taste for such companionship may be so strengthened by habit as to form a strong barrier to the desired indulgence of grosser inclinations. "show me your friends, and i'll tell you what you are," is a pithy spanish proverb. choose yours, i earnestly entreat, in early life, with a view to self-improvement and self-respect. and, while on this point, permit me to warn you against mistaking pretension, wealth, or position, for intrinsic merit; or the advantages of equality in elevated social rank, for an equivalent to mental cultivation, or moral dignity. one of the collateral benefits resulting from proper social associations, will be an escape from _eccentricities_ of manner, dress, language, etc.; erroneous habits in relation to which, when once established, often cling to a man through all the changes of time and circumstance. but, as observation proves that this, though a safeguard, is by no means always a sufficient defense, it is well to resort to various precautions, additionally--as a prudent general not only carefully inspects the ramparts that guard his fortress, but stations sentinels, who shall be on the look-out for approaching foes. so then, my dear boys, do not regard me as descending to puerilities unworthy of myself and you, when i call your attention to such matters as your attitude in standing and sitting, or any other little individualizing peculiarities. some men fall into a habit of walking and standing with their heads run out before them, as if doubtful of their right to keep themselves on a line with their fellow-creatures. others, again, either elevate the shoulders unnaturally, or draw them forward so as to impede the full, healthful play of the lungs. this last is too much the peculiar habit of _students_, and contracted by stooping over their books, undoubtedly. then again, you see persons swinging their arms, and see-sawing their bodies from side to side, so as to monopolize a good deal more than their rightful share of a crowded thoroughfare, steamer cabin, or drawing-room floor. nothing is more uncomfortable than walking arm in arm with such a man. he pokes his elbows into your ribs, pushes you against passers-by, shakes you like a reed in the wind, and, perhaps, knocks your hat into the gutter with his umbrella--and all with the most good-humored unconsciousness of his annoying peculiarity. if you are so unfortunate as to be shut up in a carriage with him, his restless propensity relieves itself to the great disturbance of the reserved rights of ladies, and the frequent impalement upon his protruding elbows of fragments of fringe, lace, and small children! at table, if it be possible, his neighbors gently and gradually withdraw from his immediate vicinity, leaving a _clearing_ to his undisputed possession. he usually may be observed to stoop forward, while eating, with his plate a good foot from the customary locality of that convenience, pushed before him towards the middle of the table, and his arms so adjusted that his elbows play out and in, like the sweep of a pair of oars. a little seasonable attention to these things will effectually prevent a man of sense from falling into such peculiarities. early acquire the habit of standing and walking with your chest thrown out--your head erect--your abdomen receding rather than protruding--not leaning back any more than forward--with your arms _scientifically_ adjusted--your hat on the _top_ (not on the back, or on one side) of your head--with a self-poised and firm, but elastic tread; not a tramp, like a war-horse; not a stride, like a fugitive bandit; not a mincing step, like a conjurer treading on eggs; but, with a compact, manly, homogeneous sort of bearing and movement. where there has been any discipline at least, if not always, inklings of character may be drawn from these tokens in the outer man. for instance--the light, quick, cat-like step of aaron burr, was as much a part of the man as the pandemonium gleam that lurked in the depths of his dark, shadowed eyes. i remember the one characteristic as distinctly as the other, when i recall his small person and peculiar face. so with the free, firm pace by which the noble port of de witt clinton was accompanied--one recognized, at a glance, the high intellect, the lofty manhood, embodied there. crossing the legs, elevating the feet, lounging on one side, lolling back, etc., though quite excusable in the _abandon_ of bachelor seclusion, should never be indulged in where ceremony is properly required. in the company of ladies, particularly, too much care cannot be exhibited in one's attitudes. it is then suitable to sit upright, with the feet on the floor, and the hands quietly adjusted before one, either holding the hat and stick (as when paying a morning visit), or the dress-hat carried in the evening, or, to give ease, on occasion, a book, roll of paper, or the like. habits of refinement once established, a man feels at ease--he can trust himself, without watching, to be _natural_--and nothing conduces more to grace and elegance than this quiet consciousness. let me add, that true comfort, real enjoyment are no better secured under any circumstances, by indulging in anything that is _intrinsically unrefined_, and that a certain _habitual self-restraint_ is the best guarantee of ease, propriety and elegance, when a man would fain do entire justice to himself. habits connected with matters of the table, as indeed with all sensuous enjoyments, should always be such as not to suggest to others ideas of merely selfish animal gratification. among minor characteristics, few are so indicative of genuine good-breeding as a man's mode of _eating_. upon poor richard's principle, that "nothing is worth doing at all that is not worth doing well," one may very properly attach some consequence to the formation of correct habits in relation to occasions of such very frequent recurrence. it is well, therefore, to learn to sit uprightly at table, to keep one's individual "aids and appliances" compactly arranged; to avoid all noise and hurry in the use of these conveniences; neither to mince, nor fuss with one's food; nor yet to swallow it as a boa-constrictor does his,--rolled over in the mouth and bolted _whole_; or worse still, to open the mouth, to such an extent as to remind observers that alligators are _half mouth_. eating with a knife, or with the fingers; soiling the lips; using the fork or the fingers as a tooth-pick; making _audible_ the process of mastication, or of drinking; taking soup from the _point_ of a spoon; lolling forward upon the table, or with the elbows upon the table; soiling the cloth with what should be kept upon the plate; putting one's private utensils into dishes of which others partake; in short, everything that is odd, or coarse, should nowhere be indulged in. cut your meat, or whatever requires the use of the knife, and, leaving that dangerous instrument conveniently on one side of your plate, eat with your fork, using a bit of bread to aid, when necessary, in taking up your food neatly. when partaking of anything too nearly approaching a liquid to be eaten with a fork, as stewed tomato, or cranberry, _sop_ it with small pieces of bread;--a _spoon_ is not used while eating meats and their accompaniments. never take up large bones in the fingers, nor bite indian corn from a mammoth ear. (in the latter case, a long _cob_ running out of a man's mouth on either side, is suggestive of the mode in which the snouts of dressed swine are adorned for market!) if you prefer not to cut the grain from the ear, break it into small pieces and cut the rows lengthwise, before commencing to eat this vegetable. when you wish to send your plate for anything, retain your knife and fork, and either keep them together in your hand, or rest them upon your bread, so as not to soil the cloth. should you have occasion for a tooth-pick, hold your napkin, or your hand, before your mouth while applying it, and on no account resort to the _perceptible_ assistance of the tongue in freeing the mouth or teeth from food. have sufficient self-control, when so unfortunate as to be disgusted with anything in your food, to refrain from every outward manifestation of annoyance, and if possible, to conceal from others all participation in your discovery. accustom yourself to addressing servants while at table, in a low, but intelligible tone, and to a good-natured endurance of their blunders. avoid the appearance of self-engrossment, or of abstraction while eating, and, for the sake of health of mind and body, acquire the practice of a cheerful interchange of both civilities and ideas with those who may be, even temporarily, your associates. it is now becoming usual among fashionable people in this country to adopt the french mode of conducting ceremonious dinners, that of placing such portions of the dessert as will admit of it, upon the table, together with plateaux of flowers, and other ornaments, and having the previous courses served and carved upon side-tables, and offered to each guest by the attendants. but it will be long before this custom obtains generally, as a daily usage, even among the wealthier classes. it will, so far continue rather an exception than a rule, that the _art of carving_ should be regarded as well worth acquiring, both as a matter of personal convenience, and as affording the means of obliging others. like every other habit connected with matters of the table, exquisite _neatness_ and discrimination should characterize the display of this gentlemanly accomplishment. aim at dexterous and rapid manipulation, and shun the semblance of hurry, labor, or fatigue. familiarity with the _anatomy_ of poultry and game, will greatly facilitate ease and grace in carving. always help ladies with a remembrance of the moderation and fastidiousness of their appetites. if possible, give them the choice of selection in the cuts of meats, especially of birds and poultry. never pour gravy upon a plate, without permission. a little of the filling of fowls may be put with portions of them, because that is easily laid aside, without spoiling the meat, as gravy does, for many persons. all meats served in mass, should be carved in _thin slices_, and each laid upon one side of the plate, carefully avoiding soiling the edge, or offending the delicacy of ladies, in particular, by too-ensanguined juices. different kinds of food should never be mixed on the plate. keep each portion of the accompaniments of your meats neatly separated, and, where you _pay for decency and comfort_, take it as a matter of course that your plate, knife, and fork are to be changed as often as you partake of a different dish of meat. _fish_ is eaten with bread and condiments only; and the various kinds of meat with vegetables appropriate to each. _game_, when properly cooked and served, requires only a bit of bread with it. by those who best understand the art of eating, _butter_ is never taken with meats or vegetables. the latter, in their simple state, as potatoes, should be eaten with salt; most of them need no condiment, in addition to those with which they are dressed before coming to table. salads, of course, are prepared according to individual taste; but the well-instructed take butter at dinner only after, or as a substitute for, the course of pastry, etc. with bread, if at all. the english make a regular course of bread, cheese, and butter, preceding the dessert proper--nuts, fruit, etc.; but they never eat both butter and cheese at the same time. skins of baked potatoes, rinds of fruit, etc., etc., should never be put upon the cloth; but _bread_, both at dinner and breakfast, is placed on the table, at the left side of the plate, except it be the small bit used to facilitate the use of the fork. never drum upon the table between the courses, fidget in your chair, or with your dress, or in any manner indicate impatience of due order and deliberation, or indifference to the conversation of those about you. a _gentleman_ will take time to dine decorously and comfortably. those whose subserviency to _anything, or any one_, prevents this, are not _freemen_! holding, as i do, that "_to enjoy is to obey,_" let me call your attention, in this connection, to the truth that the pleasures of the table consist not so much in the _quantity_ eaten as in the _mode of eating_. a moderate amount of simple food, thoroughly and deliberately masticated, and partaken of with the agreeable accessories of quiet, neatness and social communion, will not only be more beneficial to the physical man, but afford more positive enjoyment, than a larger number of dishes, when hurriedly eaten in greater quantities. i have frequently remarked among our young countrymen a peculiarity which a moment's reflection will convince you is exceedingly injurious to health--that of swallowing an enormous amount of fluid at every meal. reflect that the human stomach is scarcely so large as one of the goblets which is repeatedly emptied at dinner, by most men, and that all liquids taken into that much-abused organ, must be absorbed before the assimilation of solid food commences, and you will see, at once, what a violation of the natural laws this practice involves. here, again, is one of the evil effects of the fast-eating of fast americans. hurrying almost to feverishness, at table, and only half masticating their food, the assistance of _ice-water_ is invoked to facilitate the process of swallowing, and to allay the more distressing symptoms produced by haste and fatigue! before we leave these little matters, let us return for an instant, to that of the _position_ assumed while _sitting_. the "_yankee_" peculiarity, so often ridiculed by foreigners, of tipping the chair back upon the two hind feet, is not yet obsolete, even in our "best society." occasionally some uninstructed rustic finds his way into a fashionable drawing-room, where "modern antique furniture," as the manufacturers call it in their advertisements, elicits all the proverbial ingenuity of his native land, to enable him to indulge in his favorite attitude. "i thought i saw the ghost of my chair!" said a fair friend to me, as soon as a visitor had left us together, one morning, not long since. "i was really distressed by his efforts to tilt it back--these fashionable chairs are so frail, and he would have been intensely mortified had he broken it! have you seen the last 'harper,' colonel?" do not permit yourself, through an indifference to trifles, to fall into any unrefined habits in the use of the handkerchief, etc., etc. boring the ears with the fingers, chafing the limbs, sneezing with unnecessary sonorousness, and even a too fond and ceaseless caressing of the moustache, are in bad taste. everything connected with _personal_ discomfort, with the mere physique, should be as unobtrusively attended to as possible. when associated with women of cultivation and refinement--and you should addict yourself to no other female society--you cannot attend too carefully to the niceties of personal habit. sensitive, fastidious, and very observant of _minutiæ_--indeed often judging of character by _details_--you will inevitably lose ground with these discriminating observers, if neglectful of the trifles that go far towards constituting the _amenities of social life_. an elegant modern writer is authority for the fact that the gauls attributed to woman, "an additional sense--the _divine sense_." perhaps the creator may have bestowed this gift upon the defenseless sex, as a counterpoise to the superior strength and power of man, even as he has given to the more helpless of the lower creatures swiftness of motion, instead of capacity for resistance. but be that as it may, no man should permit himself any habit that will not bear the scrutiny of this _divine sense_--much less, one that will outrage all its fine perceptions. apropos of _details_--i will take leave to warn you against the _swaggering manner_ that some young men, whose bearing is otherwise unexceptionable, fall into among strangers, apparently with the mistaken idea that they will thus best sustain their claims to an unequivocal position in society. so in the sitting-rooms at hotels, in the pump-rooms at watering-places, on the decks of steamers, etc., persons whose juvenility entitles them to be classed with those who have nursery authority for being "seen and not heard," are frequently the most conspicuous and noisy. shallow, indeed, must be the discernment of observers who conceive a favorable impression of a young man from such an exhibition! in company, do not stand, or walk about while others sit, nor sit while others stand--especially ladies. acquire a light step, particularly for in-door use, and a _quiet_ mode of conducting yourself, generally. ladies and invalids will not then dread your presence as dangerous--like that of a rampant war-horse, ill-taught to "caper nimbly in a lady's chamber!" if you are fond of playing at chess and other games, it will be worth your while to observe yourself until you have fixed habits of entire politeness, under such circumstances. all unnecessary movements, every manifestation of impatience or petulance, and all exultation when successful, should be repressed. thus, while seeking amusement, you may acquire self-control. begin early to remember that health and good spirits are easily impaired, and that _habit_ will materially assist us in the patient endurance of suffering we should manifest for the sake of those about us--attendants, friends, "the bosom-friend dearer than all," whom no philosophy can teach insensibility to the semblance of unkindness from one enthroned in her affections. don't fall into the habit, because you are a branch of the _lunettes_ family, of using glasses prematurely. _students_ are much in error here. every young divinity-student, especially, seems emulous of this troublesome appendage. depend on it, this is all wrong, either absurd affectation, or ignorance equally unfortunate. ladies, it is said, are the _readers_ of america, but who ever sees the dear creatures donning spectacles in youth? enter a female college and look for the glasses that, were the youthful devotees of learning there assembled of the other sex, would deform half the faces you observe. much better were it to inform yourselves of the laws of optics, and use the organs now so generally abused by the young, judiciously, resting them, when giving indications of being overtaxed, rather than endeavoring to supply artificial aid to their natural strength. students, especially, should always read and write with the _back to the light_, so seated that the light falls not upon the eyes, but upon the book or paper before them. that reminds me, too, how important it is that one should not _stoop forward_ more constantly than is necessary, while engaged in sedentary pursuits, but lean back rather than forward, as much as possible, throwing out the chest at the same time. many books admit of being raised in the hand, in aid of this practice, and the habit of rising occasionally, and expanding the chest, and straightening the limbs will be found to relieve the weariness of the sedentary. but nothing so effectually prevents injury to health, from studious habits, as _early rising_. this gives time for the out-door exercise that is so requisite as well as for the use of the eyes by _daylight_. there is a great deal of nonsense mixed up with our literature, which seizes the fancy of the young, because embodied in poetry, or clothed with the charm of fiction. of this nature is what we read about, "trimming the midnight lamp," to search for the pierean spring. obey the "breezy call of incense-breathing morn," and she will environ you with a joyous band of blooming hours, and guide you gaily and lightly towards sparkling waters, whose properties are knowledge and health! but if you would habitually rise early, you must not permit every trivial temptation to prevent your also _retiring early_. the laws of fashionable life are sorely at variance with those of health, on this point, as well as upon many others; but, happily, they are not _absolute_, and those who have useful purposes to accomplish each day, must withstand the tyranny of this arbitrary despot. time for the toilet, for exercise, for intellectual culture and mental relaxation, is thus best secured. by using the earlier hours of each day for our most imperative occupations, we are far less at the mercy of contingent circumstances than we can become by any other system of life. "solitude," says gibbon, "is the school of genius," and the advantages of this tuition are most certainly secured before the idlers of existence are abroad! avoid the habit of regarding yourself as an invalid, and of taking nostrums. a knowledge and observance of the rules of _dietetics_ are often better than the concentered wisdom of a dispensary, abstinence more effective than medical applications, and the recuperative power of nature, when left to work out her own restoration, frequently superior to the most skillful aid of learned research. but when compelled to avail yourself of medical assistance, seek that which _science_ and _integrity_ render safest. no sensible man, one would think, will intrust the best boon of earth to the merciless experiments of unprincipled and ignorant charlatans, or credulously swallow quack medicines recommended by old women: and yet, while people employ the most accomplished hatter, tailor, and boot-maker, whose services they can secure, they will give up the _inner_ man to the influence of such impositions upon the credulity of humanity! assuming, as an accepted truth, that it is your purpose, through life, to admit the rights of our fair tyrants "in court or cottage, wheresoe'er their home," i will commend to you the early acquisition of habits appropriate to our relations to women as their _protectors_. in dancing, riding, driving, walking, boating, travelling, etc., etc.,--wherever the sexes are brought together in this regard (and where are they not, indeed, when commingled at all?)--observe the gentle courtesies, exhibit the watchful care, that go far towards constituting the settled charms of such intercourse. it is not to be forgotten, as i think i have before remarked, that women judge of character, often, from trifling details; thus, any well-bred woman will be able to tell you which of her acquaintances habitually removes his hat, or throws aside his cigar, when addressing her, and who, of all others, is most watchful for her comfort, when she is abroad under his escort. be sure, too, that this same fair one could confess, if she would make a revelation on the subject, exactly what men she shuns because they break her fans, disarrange her bouquets, tear her flounces, touch her paintings and prints with moist fingers (instead of merely _pointing_ to some part) handle delicate _bijouterie_ with dark gloves, dance with uncovered hands, etc., etc. but even if you are her _confidant_, she will not tell you how often her quick sensibility is wounded by fancying herself the subject of the _smirks_, _whispers_, and _knowing glances_ in which some men indulge when grouped with their kindred bipeds, in society! at the risk of subjecting myself to the charge of repetition, i will endeavor, before concluding this letter, to enumerate such habits as, in addition to those of which i have already spoken, i deem most entitled to the attention of those who are establishing a system of life. _habits of reading and studying_ once thoroughly formed, are invaluable, not only as affording a ready resource against _ennui_, or idleness, everywhere and under all circumstances, but as necessarily involving the acquisition of knowledge, even when of the most desultory character. it is wonderful how much general information may be gleaned by this practice of reading _something_ whenever one has a few spare grains of the "_gold-dust of time_,"--minutes. i once found a remarkably well-informed woman of my acquaintance waiting to make breakfast for her husband and me, with a little old _dictionary_ open in her hand. "for what word are you looking, so early?" i inquired, as i discovered the character of the volume she held. "for no one in particular," returned she, "but one can always add to one's stores from any book, were it only in the matter of _spelling_." but the true way, of course, to derive most advantage from this enjoyment is to _systematize_ in relation to it, reading well-selected books with care and attention sufficient to enable us permanently to add the information they contain to our previous mental possessions. you will only need to be reminded how much ease and elegance in _reading aloud_ depend upon _habit_. without the _habit of industry_, good resolutions, the most sincere desire for self-improvement, and the most desirable natural gifts, will be of comparatively little avail for the practical purposes of existence. this unpretending attribute, together with _system_ and _regularity_, has achieved more for the good of the race, than all the erratic efforts of genius combinedly. "don't run about," says a sensible writer, "and tell your acquaintances you have been unfortunate; people do not like to have unfortunate men for acquaintances. add to a vigorous determination, a cheerful spirit; if reverses come, bear them like a philosopher, and get rid of them as soon as you can." _cheerfulness_ and _contentment_, like every other mental quality, may be cultivated until they materially assist us in enduring "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," and early attention to the attainment of these mental habits is a matter of both personal and relative duty. cherish _self-respect_ as, next to a firm religious faith, the best safeguard to respectability and peace of mind. entirely consistent with--indeed, in a degree, productive of the most careful consideration of the rights of others, the legitimate development of this quality will tend to preserve you from unwise confidences, from injudicious intimacies, and from gross indulgences and unworthy pursuits. this will sustain you in the manly acknowledgment of _poverty_, if that shall chance to be your lot, when pride and principle contend for the mastery in practical matters, and enable you to realize fully, that "to bear, is to conquer our fate!" this will strengthen you to the endurance of that which nothing but absolute insignificance can escape--_calumny_. it will preserve you alike from an undue eagerness in defending yourself from unjust aspersion, and from a servile fear of "the world's dread laugh," from meriting and from resenting scandal, and convince you that its most effectual contradiction consists in a _virtuous life_. by listening to the dictates of this powerful _coadjutor of conscience_, you will believe with the poet, that "honor and fame from no _condition_ rise," and thus, with straightforward and unvarying purpose, illustrate your adoption of the motto, "_act well your part_, there all the honor lies!" while i would earnestly counsel you to avoid that constant _self-consciousness_ which is nearly allied to vanity and egotism, if not identical with them, you will find the habitual practice of _self-examination_ greatly conducive to improvement. a calm, impartial analysis of words and actions, tracing each to their several motives, must tend to assist us to _know ourselves_, which an ancient philosopher, you may remember, pronounced the highest human attainment. arraign yourself, without the advantage of _special pleading_, to borrow a legal phrase, at the bar of conscience, regarding this arbiter as the voice of divinity enshrined within us, whenever assailed by doubts respecting any course of conduct you have adopted, or propose to adopt, and where you are thus taught to draw the line of demarcation between right and wrong, "let that aye be your border." in this connection permit me to recommend the regular study of the _bible_, and a systematic attendance upon public worship on the sabbath. do not read this most wonderful of books as _a task_, nor yet permit the trammels of early associations, hereditary prejudice, or blind superstition, to interfere with your search for the truths contained in its pages. try to read the scriptures as you would any other book, with the aid of such collateral information as you may be able to obtain respecting the origin of the several, and wholly, distinct productions of which it is composed, the authors of each, the purposes for which they were composed, and, in short, possess yourself of every available means of giving reality, simplicity, and truthfulness to your investigations. study the _life of christ_, as written by the personal friends who were most constantly and intimately associated with him. ponder upon his familiar sayings, remembered, and recorded in their simple memoranda, by the unlettered men who most frequently listened to them, compare the acts of christ with his doctrines as a teacher, and judge for yourselves whether history, ancient or modern, has any parallel for the _perfection of the model_ thus exhibited to the human race. decide whether he was not the only earthly being who "never did an injury, never resented one done to him, never uttered an untruth, never practised a deception, and never lost an opportunity of doing good." having determined this point in your own minds, adopt this glorious pattern for imitation, and adhere to it, until you find a truer and better model. we have nothing to do in judging of this matter with the imperfect illustrations afforded by the lives of professed imitators of christ of the perfectibility to which his teachings tend. why look to indifferent copies, when the great original is ever before us! why seek in the frailty and fallibility of human nature a justification of personal distrust and indifference? no _gentleman_--to come to practicalities again--will indulge in ridiculing what intelligent, enlightened persons receive as truth, on any point, much less upon this. nor will a well-bred man permit himself the habit of being _late at church_--were it only that those who stand in a _servile relation to others_, are often deprived of time for suitable preliminaries of the toilet, etc., he will carefully avoid this vulgarity. the tendency to _materialism_, so strongly characterizing the age in which we live, produces, among its pernicious collateral effects, a disposition to reduce "heaven's last, best gift to man" to the same practical standard by which we judge of all matters of the outer life,--of _each other_ especially. well might burke deplore the departure of the age of chivalry! but not even the prophetic eye of genius could discern the degeneracy that was to increase so rapidly, from the day in which he wrote, to this. as a mere matter of personal gratification, i would cherish the inclination to _idealize_ in regard to the fairer part of creation! there is enough that is stern, hard, baldly utilitarian, in life; we have no need to rob this "one fair spirit" of every poetic attribute, by system! few habits have so much the effect to elevate us above the clods we tread ploddingly over in the dreary highway of mortal existence, as that of investing woman with the purest, highest attributes of our common nature, and bearing ourselves towards her in accordance with these elevated sentiments. and when compelled, in individual instances, to set aside these cherished impressions, let nothing induce us to forget that _passive, silent forbearance_ is our only resource. true manhood can never become the active antagonist of _defencelessness_. i am almost ashamed to remind you of the gross impropriety of speaking loosely and loudly of ladies of your acquaintance in the hearing of strangers, of desecrating their names by mouthing them in bar-rooms and similar public places, scribbling them upon windows, recording them, without their permission, in the registers kept at places visited from curiosity, etc., etc. _you have no moral right to take such liberties in this respect, as you would not tolerate in the relation of brother, son, or husband._ _think_, then, and _speak_, ever, with due reverence of those guardian angels, "into whose hands from first to last, this world with all its destinies, devotedly by heaven seems cast!" if you determine to conform yourselves, as far as in you lies, to the model presented for your imitation by him who said--"be ye, therefore, perfect, even as i am perfect," you will not disregard the cultivation of a _ready sympathy_ with the sufferings and trials of your fellow beings. in place of adopting a system that will not only steel your heart, but infuse into your whole nature distrust and suspicion, you will, like him who went about doing good, quickly discern suffering, in whatever form it presents itself, and minister, at least, the balm of a kind word, when naught else may be offered. you will thus learn not only to pity the erring, but, perchance, sometimes to ask yourselves in profound humility--"_who hath made me to differ_?" young men sometimes fall into the impression that a mocking insensibility to human woe is manly--something grand and distinguished. so they turn with lofty scorn from a starving child, make the embarrassment and distress of a poor mother with a wailing infant the subject of audible mirth in a rail-car, or stage-coach, ridicule the peevishness of illness, the tears of wounded sensibility, or the confessions of the penitent! now, it seems to me, that all this is super-human in its sublime elevation! my small knowledge of the history of the greatly good, affords no parallels for the adoption of such a creed. i have read of a howard who terminated a life devoted to the benefit of his race, in a noisome dungeon, where he sought to minister to human suffering; of a fenelon, and a cheverus whose _catholic_ spirit broke the thralling restrains of sectarianism, in favor of general humanity; of the graceful chivalry and large benevolence of sir walter raleigh and sir philip sidney; of triumphant soldiers who bound up the wounds and preserved the lives of a fallen foe; of a wilberforce, a pease, and a father mathew; of leigh richmond, reginald heber, and robert hall; of the parable of the good samaritan, and of its divine author--and i believe the mass of mankind agree with me in, at least, an abstract admiration for the characters of each! and though no great achievements in the cause of philanthropy may be in our power, though no mighty deeds may embalm our memories amid the imperishable records of time, let us not overlook those small acts of kindness, those trifling proofs of sympathy, which all have at command. a look, a word, a smile--what talismanic power do even these sometimes possess! remember, then, that, "----heaven decrees to all the _gift of ministering to ease_!" in close association with the wish to minister to the happiness of others, as far as in us lies, is that of avoiding every self-indulgence that may interfere with the comfort or the rights of others. hence the cultivation of _good-humor_, and of habits of _neatness_, _order_, and _regularity_. prompted by this rule, we will not _smoke_ in the streets, in rail-cars, on the decks of steamers, at the entrance of concert and lecture rooms, or in parlors frequented by ladies. we will not even forget that neglect of _matters of the toilet_, in the nicest details, may render us unpleasant companions for those accustomed to fastidiousness upon these points. to the importance of well-regulated habits of exercise, temperance, and relaxation, i have already called your attention in a previous letter. nothing tends more effectually to the production of genuine independence, than personal _economy_. no habit will more fully enable you to be generous as well as just, and to gratify your better impulses and more refined tastes, than the exercise of this unostentatious art. remember that _meanness_ is not economy, any more than it is integrity. to be wisely economical requires the exercise of the reflective faculties united with practical experience, self-denial, and moral dignity. rightly viewed, there is nothing in it degrading to the noblest nature. _punctuality_ both in pleasure and in business engagements, is alike due to others, and essential to personal convenience. you will, perhaps, have observed that this was one of the distinguishing traits of washington. somebody says--"ceremony is the paradise of fools." the same may be said with equal truth, of _system_. to be truly _free_, one should not be the slave of any one rule, nor of many combined. _system_, like other agencies, if judiciously regulated, materially aids the establishment of good habits generally, and thus places us beyond the dominion of "_circumstance, that unspiritual god._" sir joshua reynolds used to remark that "nothing is denied to well-directed effort." let _perseverance_ then, be united with _excelsior_ in your practical creed. i think i have made some allusion to the _art of conversation_. let me "make assurance doubly sure," by the emphatic recommendation of _practice_ in this elegant accomplishment. all mental acquisitions are the better secured by the habit of _putting ideas into words_. by this process, thought becomes clearer, more _tangible_, so to speak, and new ideas are actually engendered, while we are giving expression to those previously in our possession. in addition to the individual advantage accruing from this excellent mode of training yourselves for easy and effective _extemporaneous public speaking_, it should not be overlooked, as affording the means of conferring both pleasure and benefit upon others. taciturnity and self-engrossment, you may remark, are not the prominent characteristics of the favorites of society. nor does the practice of ready speaking necessarily interfere with habits of _reflection_ and _observation_. on the contrary, the mental activity thus promoted, naturally leads to the accumulation of intellectual material by every available means. discrimination in judging of character, and true _knowledge of the world_, without which all abstract knowledge is comparatively of little avail, can never be attained except through the persevering exercise of these powers. shall i venture to remind you, my dear young friends, that the manifestation of _respect for misfortune, suffering, and age_, may become one of your attributes by the force of habit strengthening good impulses. will you think me deficient in utilitarianism if i recommend to you a cultivation of the _power to discern the beautiful_, as a perpetual source of pure and exalted enjoyment? hard, grinding, soul-trammelling, is the dominion of real life; will we be less worthy of our immortal destinies, that we cherish an _inner sense_, by which we readily perceive moral beauty, shining as a ray from the very altar of divinity, or the tokens of the presence of that divinity afforded by the wonders of the natural world? let us not be mere beasts of burden, so laden with the cares, the anxieties, or even the duties of life, as to have no eye for the unobtrusive, but often fragrant and lovely flowers, that bloom along the most neglected of our daily paths. speaking of the beautiful, reminds me that ours is the only civilized land where the æsthetical perceptions of the people are not a sufficient safeguard to the preservation of _works of art_, in their humblest as well as most magnificent exhibitions. nothing short of the brutalizing influence of a reign of terror will tempt a parisian populace to the desecration of these expressions of refinement, taste, and beauty; while among us, not even an ornamental paling, inclosing a private residence, or the colonnade of a public edifice, escapes staring tokens of the presence of this gothic barbarism in our midst. you will scarcely need to be cautioned against confounding mere _curiosity_ with a liberal and enlightened observation of life and manners. all those indications of undue curiosity respecting the private affairs of others, expressed by listening to conversation not intended for the general ear, watching the _asides_ of society, glancing at letters addressed to another, or asking direct questions of a personal nature, are unmistakable proofs of ignorance of the rules of polished life, though they are not as reprehensible as _evil-speaking_, a love of _scandal_, or the practice of violating either the _confidence_ of friends or the _sacredness of private conversation_. though a vast difference is created in this respect by difference of temperament, yet no man can hope to acquire the degree of _self-possession_ that shall fit him for a successful encounter with the ever-varying emergencies demanding its illustration, without repeated and re-repeated struggles and discomfitures. but so invaluable is the treasure, so essential to the legitimate exercise of every faculty of our being, that defeat should only render more indomitable the "will to do, the soul to dare," in persevering endeavors to secure its permanent acquisition. let me impress upon you the truth that self-possession is the legitimate result of a _well-disciplined mind_, and that it is properly expressed by a _quiet_ and _modest bearing_. in conclusion, let me earnestly and affectionately assure you that the formation of right habits, though necessarily attended, for a time, by failures, difficulties, or discouragements, will eventually prove its own all-sufficient reward. habitude of thought, language, appointment, and manner that shall entitle you to claim "the good old name of _gentleman_," once yours, and you will be armed, point of proof, against the exacting capriciousness of fashion, and forever exempted from the tortures often inflicted upon the sensitive, by the insidious invasions of self-distrust! * * * * * strolling through the crystal palace at london, soon after it was opened, with a young fellow-countryman, he suddenly broke out with--"will you just look at that fellow, colonel?" turning and following the direction indicated by his eye (not his finger or walking-stick, he was too well-bred _to point_!) i discerned, in a different part of the building, queen victoria, accompanied by prince albert and two of the royal children, examining some articles in the american department. very near the stopping-place of this distinguished party, a representative of the "universal yankee nation," had stationed himself--perhaps in a semi-official capacity--upon the apex of some elevation, with his hat on, and his long legs dangling down in front, nearly on a level with the heads of passers-by. we could not hear the words of her majesty, but it was apparent that she addressed some inquiry to him of the legs. first ejecting a torrent of tobacco-juice from his mouth, and rolling away the huge quid that obstructed his utterance, he deliberately proceeded to give the explanation desired, retaining not only his position, but his hat, the while! meantime, as soon as the queen commenced addressing this person, her royal consort removed his hat, and remained uncovered until she again moved on. i shall not soon forget the face of my companion. shame and indignation contended for the mastery on his burning cheek! "good g----, colonel!" he exclaimed, "to think of such a mere brute as that being regarded as a fair specimen of the advance of civilization among us! 'tis enough to make a decent man disclaim his birthright here! and yet, i have little enough to boast of myself! only think of my taking some english gentlemen who were in new-york a month or two ago, to see our _parks_ (heaven save the mark!) among other objects of interest in the city! yesterday, sir john ----, who was one of the party, drove about london with me, and took me also to kensington garden, st. james' and regent's parks! i don't know what would tempt me again to undergo the thing! i rather think i am effectually cured, henceforth and for ever, of any inclination to _boast of anything whatever, personal or national_!" * * * * * "as you are the only 'gentleman of elegant leisure' in the family, at present, harry, suppose you take these girls to new york for a week or two. for my part, it's as much as i can do to provide money for the expedition," said your uncle william to me, one evening. "oh, do, dear uncle hal!" exclaimed ida, with great vivacity, sitting down on a low stool at my feet, and clasping her hands upon my knee, "we always love dearly to go with you anywhere, you are so good to us." "yes!" broke in william junior, "uncle harry spoils you so completely by indulgence that i can do nothing with you. you're a most unruly set, at home and abroad." a sudden twitch at the end of his cravat effectually demolished the elegant tie upon which the young gentleman prides himself, as little julé, who was close beside him, pretending to get her french lesson, and had perpetrated the mischief, cried out--"what's the reason, then, that you always take us all along, when you go out in the woods, and off to the shore--hey, mr. willie?" "do be quiet, children," interrupted ida, reprovingly; "now, uncle dear, won't you take us? i want some new traps badly." "what kind of traps?--mouse traps?" "_man traps_, to be sure!" "well, that's honest, at least, puss." "my purposes are more murderous than ida's," said cornelia, laughing; "i want to buy a new _mankiller_, as willie calls them." "it's too late in the season for mantillas," remarked ida, profoundly. "a fashionable cloak will serve cornelia's purpose equally well," returned her father, quietly. "and, like the mantle of charity, it will hide a multitude of sins," chimed in her brother. "your running commentaries are highly edifying, my dear nephew," said i, and at the same moment a large red rose hit him full on the nose. it was soon arranged that your fair cousins should accompany me to the empire city in a few days, and i, accordingly, sat down at once, and wrote to the "metropolitan" for rooms. "what glorious times mother and i will have," i overheard william exclaim. "i shall take julé under my especial protection, and hear her french lessons regularly." "no you won't, either," returned that young lady, with great spirit; "and i wish you'd stop tying my curls together, and mind your own affairs. no doubt you'll make noise enough to kill ma and me, while corné and dade are gone, drumming on the piano, and spouting your latin speech before the drawing-room glass. all i wish is, that uncle hal wasn't going away--he never lets you torment me." as we were entering the dining-room of our hotel, on the day of our arrival, our friend governor s---- joined us, and, after shaking hands, in his usual cordial way, with us all, said, as he courteously took cornelia's hand and folded it within his arm, "will you allow me to attend you, miss lunettes? colonel, by your leave. miss ida, will you let a lonely old fellow join your party? where do you sit, colonel?" "we have but just arrived," i replied, "but our seats are, of course, reserved; let me secure a seat for you with us, if possible. ida, remain here a moment with cornelia and governor s----;" and presently, finding the proper person, the steward, or whatever the man of dining-room affairs is called, i arranged with him to seat us together, without interfering with other parties. while i was taking my soup, i became suddenly conscious that something was annoying your cousin cornelia, who sat between me and s----. glancing at her face, i saw there, in addition to a heightened color, an expression of mingled constraint and hauteur, quite inconsistent with her usual graceful self-possession and animation. making some general remark to her, and showing no signs of curiosity, i began quietly to cast about me for the cause of this unwonted disturbance. turning my head towards ida, i overheard her saying, playfully, though in an undertone, to the senator, with whom she was already embarked upon the tide of talk: "he reminds me of an exquisite couplet in an old valentine of mine: 'are not my ears as long as other asses', pray? don't i surpass all other asses at a bray?'" i was not long in detecting the secret cause of cornelia's averted face and ida's sportive quotation. "see here, john, get me some col' slaw and unions, will you--right off," shouted a young man seated a little below us, on the opposite side of the table. i wish you could have seen the half-repressed wonder depicted in the countenance of the servant thus addressed, as he glanced at the piece of "_mackerel à la maître d'hôtel_," as the bill of fare called the _fish_ on his plate. oh, for a hogarth to do justice to the figure that had arrested my attention! the face was not bad, perhaps. a merry, dark eye, lit up with the very spirit of mischief and impudence; a tolerably high, but narrow forehead; thick, wild-looking black hair, parted on the top of the head, and bushy whiskers--add large, handsome teeth, displayed by full, red, ever-laughing lips, and you have the physiognomy. but the dress! "ye powers of every name and grace," aid my poor endeavors to describe his toilette! a high shirt-collar, flaring wide from the throat, by the pugnacious manifestations of the sturdy whiskers aforesaid; a flashy neckcloth, tied in very broad bows, and with the long ends laid off pretty well towards the tips of the shoulders; a velvet waistcoat, of large pattern and staring colors, crossed by a heavy gold chain, from which dangled a gold-mounted eye-glass, broad ruffles to his shirt, fastened with huge studs of three opposing, but equally brilliant colors! a shining holland-linen dust-coat completed this unique costume. presently, some one at a distance suddenly attracted the roving eyes of our hero, and he began the most significant telegraphing with hands and head, designed, apparently, to persuade the other to come and sit by him. turning, as if by accident, i saw a young man, near the entrance of the room, shaking his head very positively in the negative. but this was no quietus to our neighbor, who half rose from his seat. "not room for the gentleman here, sir," said a major domo, coming up. "yes there is, too, plenty of room! if you would just move _a leetle_, ma'am--so," pushing at the chair of an elderly woman, who seemed suddenly to grow more slender than ever, and at the same time hitching his own nearer to that of the person next him on the other side, "that will do, famously! now, waiter, a plate! i hope i don't crowd you, sir [to the gentleman next him], we don't wear _hoops_ you know! can keep _tight_ without them!" the last, in a whisper, like a boatswain's whistle upon which the respectable female, who illustrated the mathematical definition of _a point_, bridled and reddened with virtuous indignation. luckily the table was not as closely filled as it often is, and in much less time than it takes me to describe the scene, the triumph of the youth was complete, and a well-dressed, gentlemanly-looking man came forward, seemingly with considerable reluctance. "how are you, fred, how are you? right glad to see you, 'pon my soul--sit down! when'd you get in? left all the folks well?" there was no avoiding hearing this tide of questions, poured out in a loud, hilarious tone, that rose over the subdued murmur of ordinary conversation, like the notes of a bugle, sounding amid the twittering of the feathered tenants of a grove. apparently quite unconscious that any one else in his vicinity possessed powers of hearing and seeing, and wholly unobservant of the elevated eye-brows of some of his neighbors, and the significant looks and ill-suppressed smiles of the servants, the young man ran on with details of his own private affairs, interrogations respecting those of his companion, interspersed with loud and multiplied directions to the attendants. from my soul i pitied his victim! deeper and deeper grew the flush of shame and embarrassment in his handsome face, more and more laconic and low-voiced his replies, and more uneasy his restless movements and glances. by and by two huge glasses of foaming strong-beer made their appearance. beau brummel's celebrated saying--"a gentleman may _port_; but he never _malts_," crossed my mind. with due deference to this high authority, for my part, i think a glass of london brown-stout, or scotch ale, a pleasant accompaniment to a bit of cold meat and bread, when one is inclined to sup; but taking beer _at dinner_ is quite another affair. well! there was a little lull for a time, only to be followed by a new sensation. one of the quick, galvanic movements of the nondescript overset a full bottle of wine, just as it was placed between himself and his friend, and he was in the act of saying, "if you don't drink beer, fred, take some--by thunder that's too bad!" the dark-colored liquor poured over the table-cloth, and, dividing into numerous little streamlets, diverged in every direction from the parent source. servants hurried forward with napkins to stay the progress of the flood, the gentleman next our hero coolly dammed up the stream that most alarmingly threatened his safety, with a piece of bread, and the slender female, whose slight pretentions to breadth had been so unceremoniously ignored, fidgeted uneasily under the table, as though apprehensive that the penetrating powers of the invading foe might be working in ambush, to the detriment of her light-hued drapery. but the face of the young stranger! it was positively mottled! his very forehead, before smooth and fair, suddenly suggested the idea that he was just recovering from the smallpox! meantime, our little party were quietly pursuing the even tenor of their respective dinners. suddenly i missed s----. "what has become of the governor?" said i to cornelia, in an under-tone. "a servant called him away," returned she, in the same unnoticeable manner. the next moment i again remarked the same peculiar movement towards me and the same expression of countenance, that had arrested my attention when we first sat down. a woman's quick instinct never deceives her! apparently unheeding, i listened. "dev'lish handsome! like her air!--wouldn't object to taking the seat myself, by george!" caught my ear. i think that young man understood the _fixed look_ with which i regarded him for the space of about half a minute! i was quite sure his companion did. by this time, the dessert was on the table. "where're you going, fred? you ain't done?" shouted the hoosier, or whatever he was. "i have an engagement--i'll see you again," replied the gentleman thus addressed, springing up, and eluding the detaining grasp of his persecutor, quickly made good his escape. no sooner were we seated in one of the parlors, than ida's pent-up merriment burst forth. "did you hear what that poor young man said, when the other commenced reading the bill of fare, uncle," said she, "just before he darted out of the room?" "what, in particular, do you refer to, my dear? i heard a great deal more than i wished." "o, i mean when the _speaking-trumpet_, as governor s---- called him, shouted out--'_fricandeau de veau!_--what's he, fred? do tell a fellow.' he was picking his teeth at the time, with a large goose-quill, with all the feathers on!" "well, what was the answer?" "the poor martyr was, by that time, reduced to the _calmness of despair_," replied your cousin, laughing; "he answered, with a meaning air, i thought, '_a calf's head!--one of the entrées!_' corné, i hope you did not lose the full effect of the great green and orange-colored peaches sprinkled over the vest of your admirer. love at first sight, my dear! never saw a more unmistakable smitation! what a triumph! your first conquest since your arrival in new york, i believe, miss lunettes!" lisping affectedly, and bowing with mock deference. "ida, you'll be overheard! i'm ashamed of you," returned the stately cornelia, with an air of offended propriety. "it will never do, puss," said i; "corné is right. but, corné, what happened to the senator?" "how courteous he is!" exclaimed the young lady, with sudden enthusiasm. "a servant came and whispered to him--'miss lunettes,' said he, turning to me, 'the only man in the world who could tempt me from your side--my best friend--asks for me on important business. will you permit me to leave you, after requesting the honor of attending you?' of course, i assented. 'make my apologies to miss ida and colonel lunettes,' said he, as we shook hands, 'i am very unfortunate.'" "how quietly he slipped away," said ida; "i knew nothing of it, until he was gone." "well-bred people are always quiet," remarked the elder sister, significantly. "oh, dear me!" retorted ida, coloring. "well, it's too much to expect of any one, not to laugh at such a nondescript specimen of humanity as that young man." the next morning, before i left my room, a card was brought to me, inscribed with the name of "frederick h. alloway," and inclosed with the following note: "the son of one of colonel lunettes' old friends begs leave to claim the honor of his acquaintance, and will do himself the pleasure to pay his respects, at any hour, this morning, that will be most agreeable to colonel lunettes. "_metropolitan hotel_, "_wednesday morn._" a half-revived remembrance of a face once familiar, had haunted me at the dinner table the day before, whenever i chanced to catch the eye of the victimized youth i have alluded to. i was, therefore, not unprepared to find him identical with the author of this note. a certain constraint was evinced by his manner, when the first complimentary phrases were over. at length his embarrassment found expression. "i am not sure, colonel lunettes," said he, "that i should have ventured to intrude upon you this morning--much as i desired to make the acquaintance of a gentlemen of whom i have so frequently heard my father speak--had i not wished to make an apology, or at least an explanation"---- he hesitated, and the mottled color of the day before mantled over his ingenuous face. i hastened to say something polite. "you are very good, sir--really--scandalously as that young fellow behaved--he is not without redeeming qualities. my acquaintance with him is slight, and entirely accidental. one of our successful western speculators, and a very good-hearted fellow--but sadly in need of polish." "so i perceived," returned i, gravely, "nor is that all. one can pardon _ignorance_ much more readily than _impudence_." "very true, sir. i only hope that i was not so unfortunate as to incur your displeasure. i--permit me to express the hope that the ladies of your party did not regard me as in the most remote way implicated in an intention to annoy them," and his voice actually trembled with manly earnestness. "by no means, my dear young friend; by no means. i assure you, on the contrary, that you had our sympathy in your distress--comic as it was." the intense ludicrousness of the affair now seemed, for the first time, to take full possession of the perceptive faculties of my new acquaintance. when our mutual merriment had in some degree subsided, i invited him to dine with us, unless he preferred to resume his seat of the day before. "heaven forbid!" exclaimed he, with great vivacity; "i should have left this house to-day, if that fellow had not--he is gone, i am rejoiced to say." it was arranged that the "son of my old friend," as he indeed was, should meet me in the drawing-room a few moments before dinner, and be presented to your cousins. so we parted. almost the first person i saw as i was entering the public drawing-room, to join my nieces, before dinner, on that day, was young alloway. he was evidently awaiting me, and, upon my recognizing him by a bow, at once advanced. "you are punctual, i see, mr. alloway," said i, as we seated ourselves; "a very good trait, in a young man!" "i fear, sir, there is little merit in being punctual with such a reward in anticipation," replied he, laughing pleasantly, and bowing to the ladies, as he spoke. our new acquaintance, very properly, offered his arm to the _younger_ sister, and i, of course, preceded them with the elder, and though, when we were seated together, he was quite too well-bred to confine either his attentions or his conversation to ida, i must say that i have not often seen two young people become more readily at ease in each other's society than my lively favorite, and the "son of my old friend." they seemed to find each other out by intuition, and talked together in the most animated manner permitted by their unvarying regard for decorum. their nearest neighbors were not disturbed by their mirthfulness, nor could persons seated opposite them hear their conversation, and yet alloway was evidently fast being remunerated for the chagrin and embarrassment of his previous dinner. "uncle hal," said cornelia, leaning towards me, as we sat together on a sofa, after leaving the table, glancing round to be sure that ida heard her, "don't you think minnesota gentlemen, _generally_, must be rather susceptible?" her sister, turning "the trembling lustre of her dewy eyes" upon the quizzical speaker, was interrupted in the spirited rejoinder she evidently meditated, by the return of alloway, who had been up to his room for a pencil-sketch of the falls of minnehaha (between st. paul's and the falls of st. anthony, you know) which he told us he had made on the spot, a few days before leaving his western home. "how beautiful it must be there!" exclaimed ida, delightedly. "and you are taking this to your mother! it reminds me of a 'panorama of the western wilds,' i think it was called, to which papa took us in new york, last spring. i don't know when i saw anything so lovely! i had no just conception before of the magnificence and variety of the scenery of the far-west." "why, my dear," said i quietly, just for my own amusement, and to watch the effect upon all parties, "you seem so charmed with these sketches of the west, that i think i must try and show you the originals by-and-by. how would you like to go with me to look after my western investments next month?" "just like uncle hal!" i hear more than one of you crying. "he always plays the mischief among the young folks!" so, to punish your impertinence, i shall say nothing in particular, of the sudden light that shone in the fine eyes of our new friend, nor of the enthusiasm with which ida clapped her hands and bravoed my proposition. still more, i am by no means sure that i shall feel justified in telling you what came of all this in the future. after a while, some other young men came to speak to the girls, and alloway, modestly withdrawing, lingered near me, as if wishing to address me. a lady was saying something to me at the moment. when she had finished speaking, i turned to my young friend. "colonel lunettes," said he, in the most polite and respectful manner, "the ladies inform me that they are to go with you to see some pictures, in the morning. will you permit me to attend them?" receiving my assent, he added, "my present mode of life affords few facilities for the inspection of works of art; and i am so mere a tyro, too, that i shall be happy to have the benefit of your cultivated taste." "i dare say mr. alloway could instruct us all," interposed ida, "that is, sister and me. uncle lunettes has spent so many years abroad, that he is, of course, quite _au fait_ in all such things." "at what hour do you propose going, ladies?" inquired alloway. twelve o'clock was fixed upon. "i shall have great pleasure in again meeting you all at that time," said alloway, and, as he shook hands with me, he added, with a significant smile, "i will endeavor to be quite _punctual_, colonel!" "who is that fine-looking young man, colonel lunettes?" asked the lady with whom i had been conversing, as i reseated myself at her side. "his manners are remarkably easy and graceful for so young a person. what a contrast he is to young j----, there, who, with all the advantages of education, foreign travel, and good society, is, and always will be, _a clown_! just look at him, now, talking to those girls! sitting, _of course_, upon two legs of his chair, and picking his teeth with a pen-knife!" "what would be the consequence," said i, "if he should lose his balance and fall backward, with his mouth open in that way, and his knife held by the tip end of the handle, poised upon his teeth?" "it looks really dangerous, don't it," commented the same slender female, whose _slight_ manifestations had interested me, at dinner, the day before--"but i suppose he is so used to it that"---- a sudden movement arrested further philosophical speculation, on the part of this profound observer of life and manners, and a young lady whose flounces had been sadly torn by the very chair upon the occupant of which she was commenting, passed hurriedly out of the room, with her disordered dress gathered up in both hands. the next morning, some time before the hour appointed for our visit to the dusseldorf gallery, a servant brought me the following note: "mr. alloway regrets extremely that an unexpected, but imperative, engagement, deprives him of the anticipated pleasure of accompanying the misses and colonel lunettes this morning. "will colonel lunettes oblige mr. alloway by making his compliments acceptable to the misses lunettes, together with the most sincere expressions of his disappointment? "metropolitan hotel, "_thursday morning_." "i am so sorry!" exclaimed ida, when informed of this. "uncle hal is always beau enough, but the more the merrier, you know, dear uncle," added she, linking her arm in mine, and looking artlessly up into my face. "you are quite right, my dear," said i. "i like your frankness, and i am sorry to lose alloway myself." as i was going out of the "ladies' entrance" with your cousins, i perceived my young friend supporting the steps of a pale, emaciated gentleman, who coughed violently, and walked with difficulty, even from the carriage to the door, though sustained on the other side also by an elderly lady. i drew the girls aside, that they might pass uninterruptedly. "i hope you are well this morning, ladies," said alloway, raising his hat, as he caught sight of us. "good morning, colonel lunettes." * * * * * "good morning, again, ladies!" said a cheerful, but subdued voice behind us, as the girls and i were seated together, examining the merry "wine-tasters" of the gallery, after having devoted some time to subjects of a more elevated moral tone. we turned our heads simultaneously. "good morning, sir," said alloway, for it was he; "with your leave, i will join you now." your cousins made room for him between them. "i am so happy not wholly to lose this," said he, bowing to each of the ladies. "i feared i could not meet you here even as early as this." "we would have waited for you," interposed ida; "why didn't you tell us?" "i did not think for a moment of taking such a liberty," returned the young man. "it would, perhaps, have interfered with your other engagements. indeed, i scarcely hoped to find you here, but could not deny myself the pleasure of coming in search of you." "which is your favorite picture here, miss lunettes?" i heard alloway ask presently. "come and see," returned she, and, rising, she added, "come, sister--uncle, we will return, do not disturb yourself." loitering along toward them, a while after, i remarked, as i approached, the expressive faces of the group, and their graceful attitudes, as they discussed cornelia's "favorite," and reflected how much the poetry and beauty that environ youth, when refined by nature and polished by education, surpass the highest achievements of art. "what innocence in that face! what dewy softness in the steadfast eyes!" exclaimed cornelia. "the very shoes have an appropriate expression! dear little bird! one can't help loving her, and wanting to know all about her." "if she were not deaf and dumb," said her cavalier, "i am sure she would rise and make a courtesy to such flattering admirers! i am getting dreadfully jealous of her!" "you needn't be, as far as i am concerned," retorted ida; "for my part, i don't like that brown stuff dress! she isn't _fixed up_ a bit, as children always are, when they sit for their portraits." and she tripped away to take another look at her especial admiration--the "_peasants returning from the harvest-field_," which is, indeed, a gem. "what does miss ida mean?" inquired alloway, smilingly, of her sister. "i am sure i don't know," returned cornelia, "she is full of sentiment, which she always endeavors to hide." "with your permission i will go and ask her," said the admirer of the truant, and bowing politely to us both, he followed ida. i will just add, here, that i learned afterwards, accidentally, and not even remotely through him, that the persons with whom we met alloway that morning, were the mother and brother of that scapegrace we first saw him with. they had come to new york with the understanding that he would meet them there, at an appointed time, and assist in the care required by his dying relative; but this promising youth had suddenly left the city, without leaving any clue to his proceedings, probably, in pursuit of some pretty face, which, like cornelia's, happened to attract his attention. luckily, the poor mother learned that alloway, who was slightly known to her, was in the city, and appealed to him for assistance--with what success may be inferred from the little incident i have narrated. * * * * * it has always been a matter of marvel, with the learned in such matters, how sir walter scott accomplished such herculean literary labors in conjunction with the discharge of so many public and social duties. as he himself used to say, he long had a "troop of dragoons galloping through his head," to which, as their commanding officer, he devoted much attention; he was sheriff of the county--(in the discharge of the duties of this office, by the way, he used to march through the streets of the shire-town, during court term, arrayed in a gown and bag wig, at the head of his _posse comitatus_, greatly to his own amusement and that of his friends)--and remarkable for the most urbane and diffusive hospitality. after he ceased to be the _great unknown_, or rather, after he was identified with that celebrity, abbotsford became the resort of innumerable visitors, attracted thither by curiosity, interest, or friendship. not only his beautiful residence, but the numerous points of scenery and the superb ruins in the neighborhood of abbotsford, which had been rendered classic by his magic pen, were to be inspected by these guests, and scott always seemed to have time for a gallop among the hills, an excursion to dryburgh and melrose abbey, a pilgrimage along the banks of the romantic river he has helped to immortalize, or a lively chat with the ladies after dinner. and he never had that air of pre-occupation that so often characterizes literary men, in general society. he took part in the most genial and hearty manner, in the conversation of the moment, bringing his full quota to the common stock of mirth, anecdote and jest. i can almost see him, as i write, sitting in the midst of a social circle, in his drawing-room, trotting the curly-pated little son of mrs. hemans, who was at abbotsford on a visit, with her sister and this child, upon his _strong_ knee, and singing, "charley my darling, my darling, charley my darling," at intervals, for the amusement of the little fellow. i chanced, too, to accompany him, when he attended the poetess to her post-chaise, on the morning of her departure, and had occasion to remark his courteous hospitality to the last. "there are some persons," said he, with his cordial smile, as he offered his hand at parting, "whom one earnestly desires to meet again. you, madam, are one of those." but i am quite forgetting the object that induced my recurrence to these well-remembered scenes. in answer to some leading remark of mine, regarding the wonderful versatility of his father-in-law, addressed to mr. lockhart, as we stood together contemplating the ivy-mantled walls of dryburgh, he informed me of the secret of his extraordinary achievements with the pen: "when you meet him at breakfast," said mr. lockhart, "he has already, as he expresses it, 'broken the neck of the day's work'--_he writes in the morning_. eschewing the indulgences of late rising and slippered ease (at the last he rails incontinently), he is up with the lark--by half past four or five, dresses as you see him at a later hour, in out-door costume, visits the stables, and then sets himself resolutely to work. by nine o'clock, when he joins us, he has accomplished the labors of a day, almost." "his correspondence alone must occupy an immense deal of time," said i. "and yet," returned my companion, "sir walter makes it a rule to answer every letter on the day of its reception. it must be an urgent cause that interferes with this habit. and i am often astonished at the length and careful composition of his replies to the queries of literary correspondents, as well as to his letters of friendship." "one would suppose his health must be impaired by such severe mental labor," i answered. "his cheerful temper, and his power to _leave care behind him_ in his study, are a great assistance to him," replied mr. lockhart, moving towards our horses, as he spoke--"but here," he added, smilingly, laying his hand on his saddle, "here is his grand preservative. it must be foul weather, indeed, even for our northern land of mists and clouds, that keeps him from his _daily allowance of fresh air_." "sir walter is an accomplished horseman, i observe," said i, as we resumed our ride. "you may well say that!" exclaimed his son-in-law, laughing. "i wish you could have seen him at the head of his troop of horse, charging an imaginary foe. only the other day, his favorite steed broke the arm of a groom who attempted to mount him; and yet, in sir walter's hands, he is as docile as need be. there seems to be some secret understanding between him and his horses and dogs. this very horse, though he will never permit another man to mount him, seems to obey his master's behests with real pride as well as pleasure. i believe he would kneel to receive him on his back, were he bidden to do so." * * * * * dipping into an instructive and pleasant, though no longer new book,[ ] the other day, i came across the following passage: "brougham has recorded that the peroration of his speech in the queen's case"--his celebrated defence of queen caroline against her beastly husband--"was written no less than ten times before he thought it fit for so august an occasion. the same is probably true of similar passages in webster's speeches; it is known to be so of burke's." what do you think of such examples of industry and perseverance as these, young gentlemen? [ ] sketches of reform and reformers,--by _h. b. stanton_. * * * * * "step in, ma'am, step in, if you please," said our jehu, opening the door of a stage-coach, in which i was making a journey through a region not then penetrated by modern improvements, "would you like the back seat?" beside him stood a slightly-formed, delicate-looking girl, in a hesitating attitude. "i cannot ride backwards without being ill," said she, timidly, "and i--i shall be sorry to disturb any one, but i would like to sit by a window." a young man who was sitting on the middle seat with me immediately alighted, to make room for the more convenient entrance of the stranger, and, as he did so, the driver said decidedly--"shall be obliged to ask the gentlemen on the back seat to accommodate the lady." a low-browed, surly-looking young fellow, who sat nearest the door of the vehicle, on the seat designated, doggedly kept his place, muttering something about having the first claim, "first come, first served," etc. seeing how matters stood, a good-natured, farmer-like looking old man, who occupied the other end of the seat, called out cheerily, "the young woman is welcome to my place, if i can only get out of it!" and he began at once to suit the action to the word. by this time the before pale face of the young girl was painfully flushed, and she said, in a low, deprecating tone, "i am very sorry to make so much trouble." "no trouble at all, ma'am--none at all! just reach me your hand and i'll help you up--that's it!" "i am much obliged to you, sir--very much! i hope you will find a good seat for yourself," said the recipient of his kindness, gently. "no doubt of it!" returned he of the cheery voice. "i ain't at all sorry to change a little--them back seat's plaguy cramped up! they say," added he, settling himself next the boot, "that the front seat's the easiest of all. one thing, there's more room [stretching his legs with an air of infinite relief between those of his opposite neighbors], a deuced sight!" "take your fare, gem'men," cried a bustling personage, at this moment. "what is the fare from here to o----?" inquired the stationary biped in the corner behind me. "six shillings, york money," was the ready response. "six shillings!" growled the other; "seems to me there's great extortion all 'long this road. yesterday i paid out three dollars, hard money--twelve shillin' for lodgin', supper, and breakfast, back here to g----!" "take your fare _now_, sir," interrupted the bustling little man at the door, stepping upon the wheel, in sublime indifference to the muttered anathemas, half addressed to him. "what name, sir?"--preparing to write on the "way-bill"--"_always_, sir! it is rulable--always put down the name." the low voice of the lady, when she was reached, in due order, was almost lost in the grumbling kept up by the agreeable occupant of the corner seat. the most amusing commingling of opposite sounds reached my ears, somewhat like the soft tones of a distant flute, and the growling--not loud, but deep--of a hungry mastiff. "julia peters"--"takes off the silver, by thunder!"--"is my band-box put on?" here a chinking, as of money counted, and then a hurried fumbling appeared to take place in the "deepest depths" of various pockets. "how soon will we be there," in silvery murmurs--"by george! i swear i b'lieve i lost two shillin'!"--"before dark!" chimed in the flute-notes. "i am glad to hear it!" "i'll be hanged if any one shall come it over me!" surged over the musical ripple. "when you stop at my brother-in-law's," concluded the softer voice, in this unique duet. having been sometime on the wing, i fell into a doze, as we proceeded. as i roused myself, at length, the young man who had alighted to make room for the entrance of miss peters, whispered, "that young lady seems very ill--what can we do for her relief?" a moment's attention convinced me that the poor thing was horribly _stage-sick_. when she appeared to rally a little, i turned round to her, and said, that i trusted she would allow me to render her any service in my power. forcing a smile, she thanked me, and replied that she would soon be better she thought, adding, in a still lower tone, that the _smell of tobacco_ always affected her very sensibly. this last remark was at the time unintelligible to me, but i afterwards learned that the animal on the same seat with her had regaled himself upon the vilest of cigars while i was napping, and that the only attempt at an apology he had offered was a mumbled remark that, "as the wind blew the smoke out of the stage, he s'posed no one hadn't no objections!" despite the hope expressed by my suffering neighbor, she did _not_ get better, but continued to endure a most exhausting ordeal. every decent man in the coach seemed to sympathize with her, the rather that she so evidently tried to make the best of it, and to avoid annoying others. every one had a different remedy to suggest, but, unfortunately, none of them available, as there was no stopping place near. though a somewhat experienced traveller, my ingenuity could, until we should stop, effect no more than disposing my large woollen shawl so as to aid in supporting the weary head of the poor child. as soon as we reached the next place for changing horses, i sprang out, in common with the other passengers, and, inquiring for the nearest druggist, hastened to procure a little reliable _brandy_. having previously arranged a change of seats with the harmless stripling who had thus far occupied the middle back seat, i entered the stage, and quietly told the young lady that, as there was no one of her own sex aboard, i should claim the privilege of age, and prescribe for her, if she would permit me. "this is not a pleasant dose, i must warn you," said i, offering her a _single teaspoonful of clear brandy_, "but i can safely promise you relief, if you will swallow it; this is a nice, clean glass, too," i added, smilingly, for i well knew how much that assurance would encourage my patient. "i do not know how to thank you sufficiently, sir," said the young lady, striving to speak cheerfully, as she attempted to raise her head. taking the tumbler, with a trembling hand, she bravely swallowed my prescription. i must own she gasped a little afterwards, but i could not allow her the relief of water, without nullifying the proper effect, so i assisted her in removing her bonnet (which the good-natured farmer, who had re-entered the coach with me, carefully pinned upon the lining of the vehicle, where it would safely swing), and in enveloping her head in her veil, adjusting her shawl comfortably about her, and wrapping my own about her feet. "if i become your physician," said i, as i stooped to make the latter process more effectual, "you must allow me the right to do as i think best." "i shall be only too much obliged by your kindness, sir," returned she. "all i fear is, that you will give yourself unnecessary trouble on my account." "the gentleman don't seem to think it's no trouble," interposed the old farmer, "'taint never no trouble to good-hearted folks to help a fellow-cretur in distress! i wish my wife was here; she knows a great sight better than i do, how to take care o' sick folks." "i am sure," replied the invalid, "if kindness could make people well, i should be restored. i feel myself greatly indebted to you, gentlemen." the slight color called to her cheek by the genuine feeling with which she uttered these words, was by no means decreased, as she gracefully accepted the offerings of the youth who had first called my attention to her indisposition. coming up to the side of the stage, near her, he expressed the hope that she was feeling better, and, saying that he had known sea-sickness relieved by lemon-juice, presented a fine, fresh lemon, and a superb carnation-pink, and quickly withdrew. mr. benton--that i heard him tell the way-bill-man was his name--lost something in not hearing and seeing all i did of the pleasure he bestowed by his gifts; but he had his reward, as he re-seated himself near us. "you did not give me an opportunity to thank you for your politeness, sir," the lady hastened to say, with a pretty, half-shrinking manner, "i am so much obliged to you for the flower! it is so spicy and refreshing, and so very beautiful." "a very indifferent apology for a bouquet," returned the gentleman, "all i could find, however. i am very happy if it affords you the slightest gratification." no sooner were we fairly on our way again, than i insisted upon supporting the head of my fair patient upon my shoulder, assuring her that ten minutes' sleep would complete the cure already begun in her case. she blushed, and hesitated a little, upon the plea that she would tire me. "allow me to be the judge of that," i answered, with some gravity, "and permit the freedom of an old man." with this, i placed my arm firmly about her slight form, and, without more ado, the languid head dropped upon my shoulder. i very soon had the satisfaction to discover that "tired nature's sweet restorer" had come to my assistance, and to discern the return of some natural color to the pallid face of the poor sufferer; so gathering her shawl more closely about her, and disposing myself more effectually to support my light burden, i maintained my vigil until the sudden stopping of the vehicle aroused us all. "the lady gets out here," cried the driver, opening the door, and, through the obscurity that had now gathered about us, i dimly discerned the outlines of the small dwelling in front of which we were at a stand. in another moment, the door was flung hurriedly open, and a gentleman hastened forward to receive my fair charge, who, notwithstanding the confusion of the moment, found time to acknowledge the insignificant attentions she had received from her travelling companions, much more warmly than they deserved. our last glimpse of my interesting patient, revealed her folded closely in the arms of a lady, who appeared in the lighted passage, and embraced, simultaneously, by several curly-headed children, who clung to her dress, and hung upon her neck with manifest and noisy delight. we lumbered along, across a dark, covered bridge, up hill and down, and then i reached my destination, for the nonce, the "new york hotel," as the little tavern of the village of b---- was grand-eloquently styled. "well, i ain't sorry we're arrove!" exclaimed the elegant young man, with whose courtesy of nature my story opened. "george!"--stretching his ungainly limbs upon the porch of the house--"won't some tipple be fine? hotel tipple's good enough for me!" before i could decide in my own mind whether this last declaration was intended as a fling at me, for not giving miss peters a match for his disgusting tobacco-smoke, from the bar of the stage-house, when i came to the rescue in her service, he was scuffling with some ragged boys for his trunk, and, as he marched off with his prize, i heard a characteristic growl over the prospective tax upon his purse. the next day was sunday, and, of course, i was temporarily at a stand-still in my journey. the sexton of the neat little church to which i found my way in the morning, put me into a pew next behind that i surmised to be the rector's. a movement among its occupants arrested my attention, and i soon became really interested in remarking the healthful beauty of the children, who, disposed between the two ladies occupying the extreme ends of the seat, seemed to find some difficulty in keeping as quiet as decorum required. "i want to sit by aunt julia," i overheard, as a bright-eyed little fellow began to nestle uneasily in his seat. upon this, the lady at the top of the pew turned her head, and, behold! the face of my young stage-coach friend! she was too much engaged, however, in aiding their mother, as i supposed her to be, in settling the children, before the service should commence, to observe me, and i almost doubted whether the happy, smiling face i saw, was identical with the worn and colorless one that had reposed so helplessly upon my breast on the previous evening; but there was no mistaking the soft, blue eyes, and the wavy hair, almost as sunny in hue as that of the little fellow who, at length, rested quietly, with his head pillowed on her arm. scarcely had we begun with the psalter, before miss peters looked quickly round, with a startled glance. a half-smile of recognition lighted her sweet face, and then her gaze was as quickly withdrawn. "good morning, sir!" exclaimed my new acquaintance, advancing eagerly toward me, and offering her hand, as soon as we were in the vestibule of the church, at the conclusion of the service; "i did not anticipate this pleasure--sister, this is the gentleman to whom i was so much indebted yesterday." "we are all much obliged by your kindness to miss peters sir," her companion hastened to say, and both bowed most politely to my disclaimers of merit for so ordinary an act of humanity as that to which they referred, and to my inquiries for the health of my fair patient. then followed a cordial invitation to dinner, in which each vied with the other in frank hospitality. i attempted to compromise the matter by a promise to pay my respects to the ladies in the evening. "we do not dine until five on sunday, sir, and that is almost evening! mr. y---- will walk over and accompany you--you are at the hotel? it will give us great pleasure if you will come, unceremoniously, and partake of a simple family dinner. miss peters claims you as _a friend_." there was no withstanding this, especially as each phrase of courtesy was made doubly expressive, by the most ingenuously hospitable manner. "really, ladies," said i, as we reached the gate of the rectory, "there is no resisting such fair tempters! i will be most happy to exchange the solitude of my dull room for the joys of your eden." and, insisting that i could not permit mr. y---- to add to his clerical duties the fatigue of calling for me, i renewed my expressions of gratification at the restoration of miss peters, and took my leave. i was still engaged in laying off my overcoat and shoes, after sending in my card, when mr. y---- came out to welcome me; and a most cordial welcome it was! such a warm hand-shaking as he gave me, and such emphatic assurances of the pleasure it afforded him to make my acquaintance! and when i entered the tasteful little parlor, where i found the ladies, i was received with equally frank hospitality. the children united with their seniors in making me feel, at once, that i was among friends. one little circumstance, i remember, particularly touched me. i was scarcely seated, when a little tottering thing, with a toy in her hand, came and placed herself between my knees, and raising a pair of large, truthful, blue eyes to mine, lisped out, "i does 'ouv 'ou dearly!--'ou was 'o dood to aun' dule!--i dive 'ou my pretty 'ittle birdie!" and the little cherub presented me the toy.--it was many a long day afterwards, believe me, my dear boys, before the warmth infused into the heart of an old campaigner, by the simple adventures of that quiet village sabbath, ceased to glow cheerily in his heart! after the unpretending, but pleasant, well-appointed dinner was concluded, miss peters rose, and, with a slight apology to me, was leaving the room, when her sister arrested her. some playful, whispered contest seemed to be going on between the two, of which i could not help overhearing, in the sweet, silvery tones that had charmed me in the stage-coach, "you know, dear, it's such a luxury to me!--you are always with them. i will have my own way when i am here!" and away she flew like a fawn. presently, the pattering of numerous tiny feet, and a commingling of joyous voices, and the music of childish laughter, reached my ears, from the stairs, and then all was for a moment hushed. now there was distinctly heard from above, the swelling notes of a simple, child's hymn, sung by several voices, led by the musical one i had learned to distinguish, and then followed a low-murmured "our father," as i thought. "colonel lunettes," said my hostess, drawing a chair to the sofa corner, where i had been snugly ensconced by two of the children, before they said good-night, "i will take advantage of sister's absence to express my personal obligations to you for your kind care of her yesterday"---- "my dear madam," i interposed, "i regard my meeting your sister as a special providence, for which i alone should be deeply grateful!" "you are very polite, sir," answered the lady, "we, too, should be grateful. julia should never travel alone. mr. y---- always goes over to o---- for her, when we expect her, and intended to do so this time, but she insisted upon it in her last letter, that she _knew_ she wouldn't be ill, and that he would only distress her by coming, as she was sure he was necessarily very busy, preparing for the bishop's visit, and, indeed, she expected to come over with an elder lady teacher in the seminary." "then miss peters is instructing, mrs. y----?" "she is, sir. we are orphans [a slight quiver in the tones] and julia prefers to make this effort for herself"---- "i am opposed to it," continued mr. y----, taking up the narrative, as his wife half-paused, "and much prefer that julia should be with us,--she and mrs. y---- should not be separated. i am sure there is room enough in our hearts for all _our children_, and julia is one of them!" the grateful, loving smile, and dewy eyes of the wife, alone expressed her sense of pleasure at these words. for myself, i declare to you, i did not like to trust myself to reply. i was turning over some new pages of the history of human nature! sometimes i think, as i did then, that the soul of man never reaches the full development of its earthly capacities, except when continually subjected to the blessed influences of _nature_! the city--the beaten thoroughfares of existence--curb, if they do not deaden, the better manifestations of the spirit, check forever, the most beautiful, individualizing specialities of manner even! but i did not mean to moralize. when miss peters rejoined us, her brother-in-law rose (as i also did, of course) and seated her between us, on the sofa. "my dear young lady," said i, taking her hand respectfully in my own, "permit me to say, as dr. johnson did to hannah more, upon meeting her for the first time, '_i understand that you are engaged in the useful and honorable occupation of instructing young ladies_,'--if it were possible more thoroughly to forget the brevity of our acquaintance, than i have already done, this would have deepened my respect and interest for you! pardon me, if i take too great a liberty. you have, from the commencement of our acquaintance, permitted me the privileges of an octogenarian"---- "and of a _gentleman of the old school_!" she added, with great vivacity, and with the most bewitching smile. "before i leave you, my dear miss peters, will you allow me to make a prophecy?" "if you are a prophet of _good_, sir"---- "can you doubt it, when your future fate is the subject?" "indeed, sir, i shall have great faith in your auguries!" returned my fair neighbor, bestowing the twin of her first smile upon me. "well, then, my dear, it is my solemn conviction that you have not yet learned all you will one day know of the depth of the impression you have left upon the heart of mr. benton," i answered, with a gravity that i intended should _tell_. "mr. benton! so that's his name?" laughed mrs. y----, gaily. "julia pretended not to know his name! i thought it was a conquest! i have not yet had an opportunity of looking out the '_language_' of a very large, full blown carnation pink!" "no doubt," interrupted mr. y----, "it is precisely the opposite of _lemon-juice_!" between laughing and blushing, the fair subject of this badinage made but a faint show of resistance; but, at this juncture, she managed to say, as she turned to me, with a most courteous bow. "i very much question whether the sentiments expressed by any flower can more readily touch the heart, than that _i_ have known conveyed by a _teaspoonful of brandy_!" "bravo!" cried mr. y----. "well done, julé!" echoed my hostess. and i!--my feelings were too deep for words! i could only lay my hand upon my heart, and raise my eyes to the ceiling. * * * * * perhaps there is no better test of the unexceptionableness of a habit, than to _suppose it generally adopted, and infer the consequences_. i remember some such reflection, in connection with a little circumstance that once fell under my observation:--dining with a young canadian, at his residence in kingston, c. w., i met, among other persons, an english notability, of whom i had frequently heard and read. a slight pause in the conversation, made doubly audible a loud yawn proceeding from one corner of the dining-room, and, as a general look of surprise was visible, a huge newfoundland dog approached us, stretching his limbs, and shaking from his shaggy coat anything but "sabæan odors, from the spicy shores of araby the blest!" our host endeavored to say something polite, and the animal, advancing toward the celebrity, stationed himself, familiarly, at his master's side, somewhat to the annoyance, probably, of the lady next him. with the utmost _sang froid_, the "privileged character" held his finger-bowl to his dog, and remarked, as he eagerly lapped the contents, that he had eaten highly-seasoned venison at lunch! * * * * * "foreigners," says madame de stael, "are a kind of contemporaneous posterity." this truth apart, i had sufficient reason to blush for my country, on more than one occasion, lately, while travelling at the west, in company with a well-bred young european. his own manners were so pleasing as to render more striking the peculiarities of others, and his habits so refined, as, when united with his large observation and intelligence, to make him an exceedingly agreeable person to associate with. one hot day, during a portion of our journey performed by steamer, i looked up from my book, and saw him coming toward me. "i have found a cool place, sir," said he, "and have come to beg you to join me--we shall be undisturbed there." i rose, and was about to take up my seat. "allow me, sir! i am the younger," said he; and he insisted upon carrying my seat, as well as the one he had previously secured for himself. and this was his habitual phrase, when there was any occasion to allude to the difference in our years. he never said--"you are older than i am," or insinuated that my lameness made me less active than he, when he offered his arm, in our numerous promenades. the idea he seemed ever studying to express was, that he had pleasure in the society of the old soldier, and thought him entitled to respect and precedence on all occasions. aside from the personal gratification and comfort i derived from these graceful and unremitting attentions, it was a source of perpetual pleasure to me to observe his beautiful courtesy to all with whom he came in contact. he had with him a land surveyor, or agent of some sort; with this person he, apparently, found little in common, but, when he had occasion to converse with him, i always remarked his punctilious politeness. and so with his servant; he always _requested_, never _ordered_, him to do what he wished. reserved and laconic, when giving him directions, there was yet a certain assuring kindliness in his _voice_, that seemed to act like a talisman upon his man, who, speaking our language very imperfectly, would have often suffered the consequences of embarrassing mistakes, but for the clear, simple, intelligible directions and explanations of his master. but to return. scarcely were we seated quietly in the retired spot so carefully selected by my friend, when a couple of young fellows came swaggering along, and stationing themselves near us, began smoking, spitting and talking so loudly, as to disturb and annoy us, exceedingly. "what a pity that this fine air should be so poisoned!" exclaimed my companion, in french, glancing at the intruders. "for my part, _pure air_ is good enough for me, without perfume!" "do you never smoke?" i asked, in the same tongue. "certainly! but i do not smoke _always_ and _everywhere_! neither do i think it decent to soil every place with tobacco-juice, as you do in this country!" "it is infamous!" returned i. "now just look at those fellows! see how near they are to that group of ladies, and then look at the condition of the deck all around them." as i spoke, the lady nearest the nuisance, apparently becoming suddenly aware of her dangerous proximity, hurriedly gathered her dress closely about her, and moved as far away as she could without separating herself from her party. despite these indications, the shower continued to fall plentifully around, and the smoke to blow into the faces of those who were so unfortunate as to be seated in the neighborhood. "have you not regulations to prevent such annoyances," inquired the stranger. "every steamer professes to have them, i believe," returned i, "but if such vulgar men as these choose to violate them, no one even thinks of insisting upon their enforcement--every one submits, and every one is annoyed--that is, all decent people are!" "_vive la liberté et l'egalité!_" exclaimed the european, laughing good-humoredly. as if echoing the mirth of my companion, a merry laugh from the group of ladies near us, arrested my attention at this moment. without appearing to remark them, i soon ascertained that they were amusing themselves with the ridiculous figure presented by one of the smokers. his associate had left him "alone in his glory," and there he sat, fast asleep, with his mouth wide open, his hat over one eye, and his feet tucked across under the seat of his chair, which supported only on its hind legs, was tilted back against the side of the cabin. my description can give you but a poor idea of the ludicrousness of the thing. one of those laughing girls would have done it better! i overheard more than one of their droll comments. "what if his chair should upset, when he 'catches fish!'" exclaimed a pretty little girl, looking roguishly from under her shadowing round straw hat. "there is more danger that that wasp will fly down his throat," replied another of the gay bevy. "what a yawning cavern it is! that wasp is hovering over the 'crack of doom!'" "he reminds me rather of daniel in the lion's den," put in a third. "let's move our seats before he wakes up," cried one of the girls, as the nondescript made a slight demonstration upon a fly that had invaded his repose. "he is protected by the barricade he has surrounded himself with--like a upas-tree in the centre of its own vile atmosphere--but _we_, unwary travellers, are not equally safe!" a day or two afterwards, these very young men were just opposite me at table, in a hotel in one of our large western cities. they were well dressed (with the exception of _colored shirts_) and well-looking enough, but, after what i had previously seen of them, i was not surprised to observe their habits of eating. one would throw up both arms, and clasp his hands over his head, while waiting for a re-supply of food; the other stop, now and then, to _lay off_ his bushy moustache, so as to make more room for the shovelling process he kept up with his knife, for the more rapid disappearance of a large goblet of water at one swallowing, or for the introduction of a mammoth ear of corn, which he took both hands to hold, while he gobbled up row after row, with inconceivable rapidity. then one would manipulate an enormous drum-stick, while he lolled comfortable back in his chair, grievously belaboring his voluminous beard, the while, and leaving upon it an all-sufficient substitute for maccassar, and the other, simultaneously make a loud demonstration with his pocket-handkerchief, or upon his head. now one would stretch out his legs under the table, until he essentially invaded my reserved rights, and then the other insert his tongue first in one cheek, and then in the other, rolling it vigorously round, as a cannoneer would swab out a great gun with his sponge, before re-loading! flushed, heated, steaming, the heaps of sweet-potato skins, bones, and bits of food profusely scattered over the soiled cloth, fully attested the might of their achievements! much of this, as i said, i was prepared for, but i was somewhat surprised by what followed. i had sent for a quail, i think, or some other small game, and was preparing to discuss its merits, when one of these young men, reaching over, stuck his fork into the bird, and transferred it to his own plate! i saw at a glance that no offense was intended to me--that the seeming rudeness was simply the result of vulgarity and ignorance; so i very quietly directed the servant to bring me another bird. scarcely was the second dish placed before me, when the other youth of this delectable pair exactly repeated the action of his companion, and i again found myself minus my game. "_mon dieu!_" cried my young foreign friend, "if you can endure that, you are a hero, sir!" an hour or two subsequent to this agreeable incident, i was again seated in the cars, and hearing a noise behind me, soon satisfied myself that my neighbors at dinner that day were to be my neighbors still, and that they were at present busily employed in disputing with the conductor respecting a seat next their own, which they wished to monopolize for the accommodation of their legs, and which, in consequence of the crowded state of the cars, the man insisted upon filling with other passengers. presently there came in a pale, weary-looking woman, with a wailing infant in her arms and another young child clinging to her garments. she found a seat where she could, and sinking into it, disposed of a large basket she had also carried, and commenced trying to pacify the baby. here was a fit subject for the rude jests and jibes of the young fellows i have described. and full use did they make of their vulgar license of tongue. the poor mother grew more and more distressed as those unfeeling comments reached her ears from time to time, and at each outbreak from the infant strove more nervously to pacify it. i observed that a good-humored looking, large, handsome man, who sat a little before this woman, frequently glanced round at the child, and sought to divert its attention by various little playful motions. at length, when the cars stopped for a few minutes, out he sallied, in all haste, and presently returned with his hands full of fruits and cakes. offering a liberal share of these to the woman and her little girl, after distributing some to his party, he reserved a bright red apple, and said cheerily to the mother: "let me take your little boy, ma'am, i think i can quiet him." the little urchin set up a loud scream, as he found himself in the strong grasp of the stranger; but, a few moments' perseverance effected his benevolent purpose. tossing the boy up, directing his attention to the apple, and then carrying him through the empty car a turn or two, sufficed to chase away the clouds and showers from what proved to be a bright, pretty face, and very soon the amiable gentleman returned to his seat, saying very quietly to the woman, as he passed her, "we will keep your little child awhile, and take good care of him." the baby was healthy-looking, and its clothes, though plain, were entirely clean--so the poor thing was by no means a disagreeable plaything for the young lady beside whom the gentleman was seated. for some little time they amused themselves in this humane manner, and then the young man gently snugged the weary creature down upon his broad chest, and there it lay asleep, like a flower on a rock, nestled under a shawl, and firmly supported by the enfolding arm that seemed unconscious of its light burden. meantime the pale, tired mother regaled herself with the refreshments so bountifully provided for her, watching the movements of the little group before her with evident satisfaction; and at length settled herself for a nap in the corner of her seat, with the other child asleep in her lap. the noisy comments of the "fast" young men in the rear of the car became less audible and offensive, i noticed, after the stranger came to the rescue, and when i passed their seat, afterwards, i could not be surprised at their comparative silence, upon beholding the enormous quantity of pea-nut shells and fruit skins with which the floor was strewn, and noticing the industry with which they were squirting tobacco juice over the whole. by-and-by the cars made another pause. the mother of the little boy roused herself and looked hastily round for her treasures. upon this the young lady who occupied the seat with her new friend came to her and seemed reassuring her. as soon as the thronging crowd had passed out, i heard her saying, as i caught a peep at the sweetest face, bent smilingly towards the woman--"i made a nice little bed for him, as soon as the next seat was empty, and he is still fast asleep. does he like milk? mr. grant will get some when he wakes--it is so unpleasant for a lady to get out of the cars." (here the woman seemed to make some explanation, and a shadow of sympathy passed over the smiling face i was admiring, as one sees a passing cloud move above a sunny landscape.) "well, we will be glad to be of use to you, as far as we go on," pursued the fair girl; "i will find out all about it, and tell you before we leave the cars. now, just rest all you can--let me put this shawl up a little higher--there! it is such a relief to get off one's bonnet! i'll put it up for you. the little girl had better come with me.--oh, no, she will not, i am sure! what's your name, dear? mary! that's the prettiest name in the world! everybody loves mary! i have such a pretty book to show you"--and having tucked up the object of her gentle care in quite a cosy manner, while she was saying this, the good girl gave a pretty, encouraging little nod to the woman, and went back, taking the other juvenile with her, to her own place. when her companion joined her, she looked up in his face with a beaming, triumphant sort of a smile, and, receiving a response in the same expressive language, all seemed quite understood between them. "what an angel!" exclaimed the young european, in his favorite tongue, as he re-entered the car, and caught part of this little by-scene. "do you know what she said to that poor woman?" i gave him all the explanation in my power. his fine eyes kindled. "she is as good as she is beautiful! have you remarked the magnificent head of the gentleman with her? what a superb profile he has--so classic! and his broad chest--there's a model for a bust! i happened to be in the studio of your celebrated countryman, powers, at florence, with my father, who was sitting to him, when the great thorwaldsen came to visit him. boy, as i was, at that time, i remember his words, as he stood before the bust of your webster: '_i cannot make such busts!_' but was it not, sir, because he had no such _models_ as your country affords?" these were courteous words; but i do them poor justice in the record; i cannot express the voice and manner from which they received their charm. well, at the risk of tiring you, i hasten to conclude my little sketch. i amused myself by quietly watching the thing through, and noticed, towards evening, that the amiable strangers went together to the woman they had befriended, after the gentleman had been into the hotel, before which we were standing, seemingly to make some inquiry for her. both talked for a few minutes, apparently very kindly, to her and to the children, and seemed to encourage her by some assurance as they parted. as they were turning away, the grateful mother rose, and, snatching the hand first of one, and then of the other, burst out, with a "god bless you both!" so fervent as to be audible where i sat. "don't speak of such a trifle!" returned the youth, in a clear, distinct voice, raising his noble form to its full height, and flashing forth the light of his falcon eye; "for my part, i am very glad to be able to do a little good as i go along in the world!" in a few moments the handsome stranger was seen carefully placing his fair travelling companion in an elegant carriage, where a lady was awaiting them, and upon which several trunks were already strapped. while cordial greetings were still in progress between the trio, a well-dressed servant gave the reins to a superb pair of dark bays, and in another instant they were flying along in the direction of a stately-looking mansion of which i caught sight in the distance. "who the d---- is that fellow?" shouted one of the pair in the rear. "i say, porter," stretching his body far out of the car window, and beckoning to a man on the steps of the neighboring building, "what's the name of those folks in that carriage? dev'lish pretty girl, i swear!" "sir-r-r?" answered paddy, coming to the side of the car, and pulling his dirty cap on one side of his head with one hand, while he operated upon his carroty hair with the fingers of the other; "what's yer honor's plaizure?" "i say, what's the name of that gentleman who has just gone off in that carriage there?" "oh! sure that's young gineral grant; him that owns the fine house beyant--i hear tell he's the new congressman, sir!" "_bien!_" whispered my foreign friend, laughing heartily, "this _is_ a great country! you do things upon so large a scale here, that one must not wonder when _extremes meet_!" * * * * * "what, coz, still sitting with your things on, waiting? haven't you been impatient?" "oh, no, not at all, i've been reading." "well, but, do you know it's twelve o'clock? we were to start at half-past ten. what did you think of me for delaying so long?" "i was afraid some accident had happened; but i could see nothing from the window, and i did not like to go out on the portico alone." "then you did not think me careless, and were not vexed?" "not i, indeed! i was sure you would come if you could, and was only anxious about you, as you were to try that new horse. i did not take off my bonnet, because i kept expecting you every moment." "and i kept expecting to come every moment--that devilish animal! i tried to send you word, but i could not get sight of a servant--confound the fellows! they are always out of the way when one wants them." "but, charley, dear, what about the horse? has he really troubled you? i am sorry you bought him." "oh, i've conquered him! it wouldn't have taken me so long before i had that devilish fever! but, come, cozzy dear, will you go now, or is your patience all gone?" "i would like the drive--but, charley, had we not better put it off until to-morrow morning? you must be tired out, and, perhaps, the horse will continue to trouble you." "no, no--come, come along, if you are willing to go." now, charley and his cousin were together at a little rural watering-place, in search of change of air and scene. charley had been recently ill, and, as he chanced to be separated from his family at the time, was particularly fortunate in having had the gentle ministrations of belle, as he usually called her, at command, during his convalescence. belle was an orphan, without brothers, and she clung to charley with the tenacity of a loving heart, deprived of its natural resources. temporarily relieved from her duties as a teacher, her cousin invited her to accompany him in this little tour, in pity for the languor that was betrayed by her drooping eyes, and lagging step; and his kindly nurse, flattering herself that her "occupation" was not yet quite "gone," was only too happy to escape from her city prison, under such safe and agreeable protection. yielding and quiet, as she ordinarily was, belle had very strict notions of propriety on some points. so, when she and her cousin were making their final arrangements, before commencing their journey, she laid upon the table before him, a bank-note of considerable amount, with the request that he would appropriate it to the payment of her travelling expenses. "time enough for that, by-and-by, coz." "no, if you please, charley. it is enough that you will be burdened by the care of me, without having your purse taxed, too. just be so good as to keep a little account of what you pay for me--remembering porterage, carriage-hire, and such matters--ladies always have the most luggage." and a little hand playfully smoothed the doubled paper upon the cuff of charley's coat-sleeve, and left it lying there. her cousin very well knew that this bank-note comprised a large portion of belle's quarterly salary, though she made no allusion to the matter; and, though his own resources were moderate, men so much more easily acquire money than women--well, never mind! people differ in their ideas of _luxury_. charley had some new experiences in this little tour of his and belle's. he had an idea, previously, that "women are always a bother, in travelling," and he found himself sorely puzzled to make out, exactly, what trouble it was to have his cousin always ready to read to him, when they sat together on the deck of a steamer, or while he lay on the sofa at a hotel, to claim the comfortable seat at her side in a rail-car, to have her keep his cane and book, while he went out to chat with an acquaintance, watch when he grew drowsy, and softly gather his shawl about his neck, and make a pillow of her own for him, or to see the tear that sometimes gathered in her meek eyes, when she acknowledged any little courtesy on his part. then, when, after they were settled in their snug quarters, at the watering-place, belle, half-timidly, sat a moment on his knee, and, looking proudly round upon the order she had brought out of chaos, among his toilet articles, books, and clothes, said--"oh, what a happy week i have to thank you for, dear cousin charley! you have done so many, many kind things for me, all the way! i have had to travel alone almost always since pa's--since"--he was really quite at a loss to know what "kind things" she referred to, and said so. "why, charley!" returned she, making a vigorous effort to get over the choking feeling that had suddenly assailed her, upon alluding to her deceased father, "don't you know--no, you don't know, what a happiness it is to a poor, lonely thing, like me, to have some one to take care of her luggage, and pay her fare, and all those things? i know, in this country, women can travel alone, safely--quite so; but it isn't pleasant, for all that, to go into crowds of rough men, without any one. the other evening, at new haven, for instance, it was quite dark, when we landed, and those hackmen made such a noise, and crowded so--but i felt just as safe, and comfortable, while sitting waiting for you in the carriage, all the while you were gone back about our trunks! oh, you can't realize it, charley, dear!" and the fair speaker shook her head, with a mournful earnestness, that expressed almost as much sober truthfulness, as appealing femininity. but about this morning drive. with the trusting confidence for which her sex have such an infinite capacity, belle yielded at once to the implied wish of her temporary protector, and they were soon rolling along, in a light, open carriage, through deeply-shadowing woods and across little brooklets which were merrily disporting themselves under the trees. the poor wild-wood bird, so long caged, yet ever longing to be free, carolled and mused by turns, or permitted her joyous nature to gush out in exclamations of delight. "what delicious air!" she exclaimed. "really it exhilarates one, like a cordial. oh, charley, dear, look at those flowers! may i get out for them? do let me! i won't be gone a minute. just you sit still, and hold your war-steed. don't be so ceremonious as to alight; i need no assistance." and with a bound the happy creature was on her feet, and in an instant dancing along, to the music of her own glad voice, over the soft grass. too considerate to encroach upon his patience unduly, belle soon reseated herself beside charley, with a lap full of floral treasures. "here are enough for bouquets for both our rooms," said she; "how fresh and fragrant they are! 'they have tales of the joyous woods to tell, of the free blue streams and the glowing sky.' bless god for flowers--_and friends_!" as the artless girl fervently uttered the last words, she turned a pair of sweet blue eyes, into which tears of gratitude and pleasure had suddenly started, upon the face of her companion. what a painful revulsion of feeling was produced by that glance! she scarcely recognized the face of her cousin, so completely had gloom and discontent usurped the place of his usual hilarious expression. what _could_ be the matter? had she offended him! repressing, with quick tact, all manifestations of surprise, though her frame thrilled, as if from a heavy blow, belle was silent for a while, and then said in a subdued tone that contrasted strangely with her former bird-like glee--"your horse goes nicely now, charley, doesn't he? you seem to have effectually conquered him; but i am sure you must be tired, now, dear cousin, you have been out so long. had we not better return?" "why, you have had no ride at all yet, isabella," returned the young man, in a voice that was as startling to his sensitive auditor as his altered countenance had been. "oh, yes, i have," she quickly answered, endeavoring to speak as cheerfully as possible, "i have enjoyed myself so much that i ought to be quite contented to go back, and i really think we'd better do so." charley's only response was turning his horse's head homeward. for a while they drove on in silence, belle's employment of arranging her flowers now wholly mechanical, so engrossing was the tumult in her heart. just as they came in sight of their hotel, the unruly animal that had already occasioned his new owner so much trouble, stopped, and stood like a wooden effigy in the middle of the road. in vain did word and whip appeal to his locomotive powers. at length the pent-up wrath that had apparently been gathering fury for the last hour burst forth. "devilish brute! i never was so shamefully imposed upon! i wish to g---- i never had set foot in this infernal hole! there's no company here fit for a decent fellow to associate with. i shall die of stupidity in a week--particularly if i have to drive such a confounded concern as this!" here followed a volley of mingled blows and curses. the terrified witness of this scene sat tremblingly silent, for a time, clinging to the side of the carriage, as if to keep herself quiet. presently she said: "perhaps i'd better jump out and run to the house, and send some one out to assist you." "you may get out, if you choose," answered her cousin, gruffly, "but i want no assistance about the horse. i'll break every bone in his body, but i'll conquer his devilish temper!" after another pause, belle said, "well, charley, if you please, i will walk on. i am sorry you are so annoyed," she added, timidly, carefully averting her pale face from him; "but perhaps this is only a phase, and he may never do so again." her companion broke into a loud, mocking laugh. "what in thunder do you know about horses, isabella?" "nothing, charley--nothing in the world," returned his cousin, quickly, in the gentlest voice, "i only"---- "ye-es!" drawled the angry youth, "i know--some women think their '_ready wit_' will enable them to talk upon any subject! get up, now, you rascal, will you?" belle knew her weakness too well to trust herself to speak, so, drawing her veil closely about her face, and gathering up her shawl and her flowers, she stepped from the low carriage with assumed composure, and bowing slightly, walked towards the house. meeting a servant, at the foot of the stairs, she said, very quietly, "mr. cunningham will be here in a few minutes with his horse; i hope some one will be ready to take him," and passed on. this was all she _dared_ to do, in aid of the exasperated youth. once in her own room, it seemed but the work of a moment for the agitated girl to throw off her shawl and bonnet, and transport some light refreshments she had previously prepared, across the passage to her cousin's room, to draw up his lounging chair to the table, and with a few skillful touches to give that air of comfort to the simply-furnished apartment which it had been her daily pleasure to impart to it. this self-imposed task achieved, she flew, like a guilty intruder, to her own little asylum, and locking the door, flung herself upon the bed, burying her face in the pillows. but though her quick, convulsive sobs were stifled, they shook her slight, sensitive form till it quivered in every nerve, like a delicate exotic suddenly exposed to the blasts of a northern winter. by-and-by a sound roused her from this agony of tears. "there is the first dinner-gong," said she, to herself, starting up, "what shall i do? perhaps charley won't like it if i don't go to dinner. my head aches dreadfully. i don't mind that so much, but (looking in the glass) my face is so flushed. i wouldn't for the world vex charley, i'm sure." with this she began some hasty toilet preparations; but her hands trembled so violently as to force her to desist. wrapping her shivering form in her shawl, she sat down on a low chair, and again gave way to emotions which gradually shaped themselves thus: "i am so sorry i came with charley. he was never anything but kind till we came here. and then i should have, at least, had nothing but pleasant things to remember. but now--i am afraid charley is ashamed of me; he looked at my dress so scrutinizingly this morning, when he came to my door. i know i'm not the least fashionable; but mrs. tillou is, and she complimented me on this _négligé_--it is soiled now, and my pretty slippers, too, walking back through the mud! 'isabella!' how cold and strange it sounded! i am so used to 'cozzy dear,' and have learned to love it so. my poor heart!" pressing both hands upon her side as if to still a severe pang. then she rose, and creeping slowly along the floor, swallowed some water, and seating herself at the table, drew writing materials towards her. steadying her hand with great effort, and every moment pressing her handkerchief to her eyes, she achieved the following note: "having a little headache to-day, dear charley, i prefer not to dine, if you will excuse me. i will be quite ready to meet you in the parlor before tea. "ever yours, "belle. "_tuesday morning._" designing to accompany this with some of the flowers she now remembered, for the first time since her return from her ill-starred morning excursion, belle hastily re-arranged the prettiest of them in a little bouquet. as she removed an already withered wild-rose from among its companions, a solitary tear fell upon its shrivelled petals. "perhaps," she murmured mournfully, with a heavy sigh, "i should have made another idol,--perhaps i should soon have learned to _love charley too well_, if this chastening had not come upon me--could he have thought so?" as she breathed this query, the small head was suddenly thrown back, like that of a startled gazelle, and a blush so vivid and burning as to pale the previous flush of agitation, flashed over cheek and brow. quickly ringing the bell, and carefully concealing herself from observation, behind the door, when she half-opened it, the servant who answered her summons was requested to hand the note and flowers to mr. cunningham, if he was in his room, and if not, to place them where he would "be sure to see them when he came up." "when will i ever learn," said belle, in a tone of bitter self-reproach, as she re-locked the door, "not to cling and trust,--not ----"to make idols, and to find them clay!" "i have not seen you looking so well since you came here, miss cunningham," said a gentleman to belle, joining her as she was entering the public parlor that evening. "do allow me to felicitate you! what a brilliant color!--you were driving this morning, were you not? no doubt you are indebted to your cousin for the bright roses in your cheeks!" * * * * * and now, my dear young friends, let me only add, in concluding this lengthened letter, that, had i early acquired the _habit of writing_, you would, doubtless, have less occasion to criticise these effusions--attempted, for your benefit, at too late a period of life to enable me to render them what i could wish. use them as _beacons_, since they cannot serve as _models_! adieu! henry lunettes. letter xi. mental and moral education. my dear nephews: having touched, in our preceding letters, upon matters relating to physical training, manner, and the lighter accomplishments that embellish existence, we come now to the _inner life_--to the education of the mind and heart, or soul of man. metaphysicians would, i make no doubt, find ample occasion to cavil at the few observations i shall venture to offer you on these important subjects, and, painfully conscious of my total want of skill to treat them in detail, i will only attempt a few desultory suggestions, intended rather to impress you with the importance i attach to _self-culture_, than to furnish you with full directions regarding it. the genius of our national institutions pre-supposes the truth that education is within the power of all, and that all are capable of availing themselves of its benefits. education, in the highest, truest sense, does not involve the necessity of an elaborate system of scientific training, with an expenditure of time and money entirely beyond the command of any but the favored few who make the exception, rather than the rule, in relation to the race in general. happily for the progress of humanity, the "will to do, the soul to dare," are never wholly subject to the control of outer circumstance, and here, in our free land, they are comparatively untrammeled. "there are two powers of the human soul," says one of our countrymen, distinguished for a knowledge of intellectual science, "which make self-culture possible, the _self-searching_, and the _self-forming_ power. we have, first, the faculty of turning the mind on itself; of recalling its past, and watching its present operations; of learning its various capacities and susceptibilities; what it can do and bear; what it can enjoy and suffer; and of thus learning, in general, what our nature is, and what it is made for. it is worthy of observation, that we are able to discern not only what we already are, but what we may become, to see in ourselves germs and promises of a growth to which no bounds can be set; to dart beyond what we have actually gained, to the idea of perfection at the end of our being." assuming that to be the most enlightened system of education which tends most effectively to develop all the faculties of our nature, it is impossible, practically, to separate moral and religious from intellectual discipline. if we possess the _responsibility_ as well as the capacity of self-training--that must be a most imperfect system, one most unjust to our better selves, which cultivates the intellectual powers at the expense of those natural endowments, without which, man were fitter companion for fiends than for higher intelligences! pursued beyond a certain point, education, established upon this basis, may not facilitate the acquisition of wealth; and if this were the highest pursuit to which it can be made subservient, effort, beyond that point, were useless. but if we regard the acquirement of money chiefly important as affording the essential means of gratifying the tastes, providing for the necessities, and facilitating the exercise of the moral instincts of our being, we return, at once, to our former position. "_he, therefore, who does what he can to unfold all his powers and capacities, especially his nobler ones, so as to become a well-proportioned, vigorous, excellent, happy being, practises self-culture._" those of you who have enjoyed the advantages of a regular course of intellectual training, will need no suggestion of mine to aid you in mental discipline; but possibly a few hints on this point may not be wholly useless to others. the general dissemination of literature, in forms so cheap as to be within the reach of all, renders _reading_ a natural resource for purposes of amusement as well as instruction. but they who are still so young as to make the acquisition of knowledge the proper business of life, should never indulge themselves in reading for _mere amusement_. never, therefore, permit yourselves to pass over words or allusions, with the meaning of which you are unacquainted, in works you are perusing. go at once to the fountain-head--to a dictionary for unintelligible words, to an encyclopedia for general information, to a classical authority for mythological and other similar facts, etc., etc. you will not read _as fast_, by adopting this plan, but you will soon realize that you are, nevertheless, advancing much more rapidly, in the truest sense. when you have not works of reference at command, adopt the practice of making brief memoranda, as you go along, of such points as require elucidation, and avail yourself of the earliest opportunity of seeking a solution of your doubts. and do not, i beg of you, think this too laborious. the best minds have been trained by such a course. depend upon it, _genius_ is no equivalent for the advantage ultimately derived from patient perseverance in such a course. i remember well, that to the latest year of his life, my old friend, de witt clinton, one of the noblest specimens of the race it has been my fortune to know, would spring up, like a boy, despite his stiff knee, when any point of doubt arose, in conversation, upon literary or scientific subjects, and hasten to select a book containing the desired information, from a little cabinet adjoining his usual reception-room. his was a genuine _love of learning_ for its own sake; and the toil and turmoil of political life never extinguished his early passion, nor deprived him of a taste for its indulgence. moralists have always questioned the wisdom of indulging a taste for fictitious literature, even when time has strengthened habit and principle into fixedness. the license of the age in which we live, renders futile the elaborate discussion of this question of ethics. but, while permitting yourselves the occasional perusal of works of poetry and fiction, do not so far indulge this taste as to stimulate a disrelish for more instructive reading. and, above all, do not permit yourselves to acquire an inclination for the unwholesome stimulus of licentiousness, in this respect. every man of the world should know something of the belle-lettre literature of his own language, at least, and, as a rule, the more the better; but, "where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise;" and the vile translations from profligate foreign literature, which have, of late years, united with equally immoral productions in our own, to foster a corrupt popular taste, cannot be too carefully avoided by all who would escape moral contagion. you will find the practice of noting fine passages, felicitous modes of expression, novel thoughts, etc., as they occur even in lighter literary productions, not unworthy of your attention. it will serve, collaterally, to assist in the formation of a pure style of conversation and composition, a consideration of no small importance for those whose future career will demand facility in this regard. carlyle has somewhere remarked that, "our public men are all gone to tongue!" this peculiarity of the times, may, to some extent, have grown out of its new and peculiar social and political necessities. but, whether that be so, or not, since such is the actual state of things, let all new competitors for public distinction seek every means of securing ready success. while i would not, without reservation, condemn the perusal of fictitious literature, i think you will need no elaborate argument to convince you of the superior importance of a thorough familiarity with _history_ and general _science_. let me, also, commend to your attention, well-chosen _biography_, as affording peculiarly impressive incentives to individual effort, and, often, a considerable amount of collateral and incidental information. the life of johnson, by boswell, for instance, which, as far as i know, still retains its long-accorded place at the very head of this class of composition (some critic has recorded his wonder that the best biography in our language should have been written by a _fool_!) contains a world of information, respecting the many celebrated contemporaries of that great man, the peculiarities of social life in england, at his day, and the general characteristics of elegant literature. so, of lockhart's life of scott, and other records of literary life. the lives of such men as shelley, and coleridge, afford an impressive warning to the young--teaching, better than a professed homily, how little talents, unguided by steadfastness of purpose and principle, avail for usefulness and happiness. the examples of lord nelson, howard, mungo park, robert hall, franklin, and washington, may well be studied, in detail, for the lessons they impress upon all. and so, of many of the brave and the good of our race--i but name such as passingly occur to me. do not permit newspaper and magazine reading to engross too much of your time, lest you gradually fall into a sort of _mental dissipation_, which will unfit you for more methodical literary pursuits. a cultivated taste in literature and art, as, indeed, in relation to all the embellishments and enjoyments of life, is, properly, one of the indications, if not the legitimate result, of thorough mental education. but, while you seek, by every means within your control, to enlarge the sphere of your perceptions, and to elevate your standard of intellectual pleasures, carefully avoid all semblance of conscious superiority, all _dilettanti_ pretension, all needless technicalities of artistic language. remember that _modesty_ is always the accompaniment of true merit, and that the smattering of knowledge, which the condition of art in our infant republic alone enables its most devoted disciples to acquire, ill justifies display and pretension, in this respect. so, with regard to matters of literary criticism--enjoy your own opinions, and seek to base them upon the true principles of art; but do not inflict crudities and platitudes upon others, under the impression that, because of recent acquisition to a tyro in years, and in learning, they are likely to strike mature minds with the charm of novelty! thus, too, with scientific lore. if sir isaac newton only gathered "pebbles on the shore" of the limitless ocean of knowledge, we may well believe that ----"wisdom is a pearl, with most success sought in still water." let me add, while we are, incidentally, upon this matter of personal pretension, that to observing persons such a manner often indicates internal distrust of one's just claims to one's social position, while, on the contrary, quiet self-possession, ease and simplicity, are equally expressive of self-respect and of an entire certainty of the tacit admission of one's rights by others. nothing is more underbred than the habit of taking offense, or fancying one's self slighted, on all occasions. it betokens either intense egotism, or, as i have said, _distrust of your rightful position_--that you are embittered by struggling with the world--neither of which suppositions should be betrayed by the bearing of a man of the world. maintain outward serenity, let the torrent rage as it may within, and _never allow the world to know its power to wound you through your undue sensitiveness_! well has the poet asserted that "truth's a discovery made by _travelled minds_." no one who can secure the advantage of seeing life and manners in every varying phase, should fail to add this to the other branches of a polite education. do not imbibe the impression, however, that merely going abroad is _travelling_, in the just sense of the term. "oft has it been my lot to mark, a proud, conceited, talking spark, returning from his finished tour, grown ten times perter than before. whatever word you chance to drop, the travelled fool your mouth will stop:-- 'sir, if _my_ judgment you'll allow, i've _seen_, and sure _i_ ought to know!' so begs you'll pay a due submission, and acquiesce in his decision." send a fool to visit other countries, and he will return--only a "_travelled_ fool!" but give a rightly-constituted man opportunities for thus enriching and expanding his intellectual powers, and he returns to his native land, especially if he be an american, a better citizen, a more enlightened, discriminating companion and friend, and a more liberal, useful, catholic christian! some knowledge of modern languages, especially of the french, has now become an essential part of education. the value of this acquisition, even for _home use_, can scarcely be over-estimated, and without a familiarity with colloquial french, a man can hardly hope to pass muster abroad. i will, however, hazard the general observation that, as a rule, it is better to acquire a _thorough knowledge of one language_ (and of french, pre-eminently, for practical availability) than a slight acquaintance with several. few persons, comparatively, in our active, busy land, have leisure, at any period of life, for familiarizing themselves with the literature of more than one language, besides their own, and to possess the mere nomenclature of a foreign tongue is but to have _the key_ to information. there is, of late, a fashion in this matter, which has little else to recommend it than that it _is the fashion_; and with persons of sense and intelligence there should be some more powerful and satisfactory motive for the devotion of any considerable portion of "_time, nature's stock_." _apropos_ of this, nothing is more likely to teach a true estimate of the _value_ of _time_ than that perfection of education pronounced by the philosopher of old to be the knowledge that we _know nothing_! in other words, they only, who in some sort discern, by the light of education, the vast field that lies unexplored before them, can have any adequate conception of the care and discrimination with which they should use that treasure of which alone it is '_a virtue to be covetous_.' nothing, perhaps, more unmistakably indicates successful self-culture than the habitual exhibition of tact. it may almost be called another sense, growing out of the proper training of the several faculties of body and mind. and though there is a vast natural difference between persons of similar outward circumstances, in this respect, much may be effected by attention and practice, in the acquisition of this invaluable possession. like self-possession, tact is one of the essential, distinctive characteristics of good-breeding--the legitimate expression of natural refinement, quick perceptions and kindly sympathies. cultivate it, then, my young friends, in common with every elegant embellishment of the true gentleman! do not confound it with dissimulation or hypocrisy, nor yet regard it as the antagonist of truthfulness, self-respect and manly dignity. on the contrary, it is the best safeguard of courtesy, as well as of sensibility. among useful methods of self-discipline, let me instance the benefit resulting from the early adoption of a _code of private morality_, if you will permit me to coin a phrase, composed of rules and maxims adapted to your own personal needs and peculiarities of position and mental constitution. washington, i remember, adopted this practice, and mr. sparks, or some one of his biographers, has preserved the record from oblivion. it is many years since i came across these rules, and i can no longer recall more than the fixed, though general, impression that they embodied much practical wisdom and clearly indicated the patient spirit of self-improvement for which the author was remarkable. i commend them to you as a model. perhaps the immortal biographer who has now given the world a new life of his great namesake, will afford you the means of satisfying yourselves personally of the correctness of my impressions of them. in preparing this code for yourselves, i can give you no better guide than that afforded by the truth expressively conveyed in the following lines: "_'tis wisely great to talk with our past hours, to ask them what report they bore to heaven, and how they might have borne more welcome news._" that is a very imperfect conception of education which limits its significance to _knowledge gained from books_. a profound acquaintance with literary lore is often associated with total ignorance of the actual world, of the laws that govern our moral and intellectual being, and with an incapacity to discern the beautiful, the true, the good. they only are _educated_, who have acquired that self-knowledge and self-discipline which inspire a _disinterested love of our fellow-beings, a reverence for truth_--in the largest sense of the term--_and the power of habitually exalting the higher faculties over the animal propensities of our nature_. it is only, therefore, when man unites moral discipline with intellectual culture, that he can be said to be truly educated; and the most ambitious student of books should always bear in mind the truth that the _free play of the intellect is promoted by the development of moral perceptions_, and that mental education, even, does not so much consist in loading the memory with facts, as in strengthening the capacity for independent action--for judging, comparing, reflecting. "the connection between moral and intellectual culture is often overlooked," says a celebrated ethical writer, "and the former sacrificed to the latter. the exaltation of talent, as it is called, above virtue and religion, is the curse of the age. education is now chiefly a stimulus to learning, and thus may acquire power without the principles which alone make it a good. talent is worshipped, but, if divorced from rectitude, it will prove more of a demon than a god." holding the opinion, then, that a fixed religious belief is the legitimate result of a thorough cultivation of the mental and moral endowments, and that their united and co-equal development constitutes education, you will permit me to impress upon your attention the importance of securing all the aid afforded by the _best lights_ vouchsafed to us, in the search after truth. conscience is a blind guide, until assisted by discriminating teaching, and honest, persevering endeavors at self-enlightenment. for myself, my experience, in this respect, has afforded me no assistance so reliable and efficient as that to be gathered from the _life of jesus christ_, as recorded by his various biographers, and collected in the new testament. i commend its study, renewedly, to you, not in search of a substantiation of human doctrines, not to determine the accuracy of particular creeds, but to possess yourself of simple, intelligible, practicable directions for the wise regulation of your daily life, and those ceaseless efforts at self-advancement which should be the highest purpose of "a being breathing thoughtful breath, a creature between life and death!" accustomed to the standard established by him who said, "be ye, therefore, perfect, even as i am perfect," we will not be deterred from the steadfast pursuit of right by the imperfect exhibitions, so frequently made, of its efficacy, in the lives of the professed followers of the wonderful nazarine. conscious of the difficulties, the temptations and the discomfitures that we ourselves encounter, we will learn, not only to discriminate between the imperfections of the disciple and the perfection of the master, but to exercise that charity toward others, of which self-examination teaches us the need, in our own case. thus, the golden rule, which so inclusively epitomizes the _moral code_ of the great teacher, will come to be our guide in determining the path of practical duty, and the course of self-culture, most essential to the security of present happiness, and as a preparative for that eternal state of existence, of which this is but the embryo. thus, making god and conscience--which is the voice of god speaking within us--the arbiter between our better nature and the impulses excited by the grosser faculties, we shall be less tempted by outward influences to lower the abstract standard we originally establish, or to reconcile ourselves to an imperfect conformity to its requisitions. far less, will we permit ourselves to indulge the delusion that we are not, each of us, personally obligated, by our moral responsibilities, _to develop all the powers with which we are endowed, to their utmost capacity_:-- "they build too low who build below the skies!" the most perfect of human beings was also the most humble and self-sacrificing, so that they who endeavor to follow his example will not only be devoid of self-righteous assumption, but actively devoted to the good of their fellow-creatures, and, like him, pityingly sensible of the wants and the woes of humanity. that reverence for the spiritual nature of man, as a direct emanation from deity, which all should cherish, is, also, to be regarded as a part of judicious self-culture. cultivate an habitual recognition of your celestial attributes, and strive to elevate your whole being into congenial association with the divinity within you:--this do for the benefit of others, "be noble! and the nobleness that lies in other men, sleeping, but never dead, will rise, in majesty, to meet thine own!" with so exalted an aim as i have proposed for your adoption, you will be slow to tolerate _peccadilloes_, as of little moment, either in a metaphysical or ethical point of view. dread such tolerance, as sapping the foundations of principle; learn to detect the insidious poison lurking in burke's celebrated aphorism, and in the infidel philosophy that assumes the brightest semblances that genius can invent, the more readily to deceive. establish fixed principles of benevolence, justice, truthfulness, religious belief, and adhere steadfastly to them, despite the allurements of the world, the temptings of ambition, or weariness of self-conflict. the _pursuit of happiness_ is but concentrated phraseology for the purposes and endeavors of every human being. may you early learn to distinguish between the _false_ and the _true_, between _pleasure_ and _happiness_, early know your duty to yourselves, your country, and your god! i will but add to these crude, but heart-engendered, observations, a few lines, embodying my own sentiments, and in a form much more impressive than i can command:-- "we live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; in feelings, not in figures on a dial. we should count time by heart-throbs. _he most lives who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best._" * * * * * i have somewhere met with a little bagatelle, somewhat like this:-- apollo, the god of love, of music, and of eloquence, weary of the changeless brilliancy of olympus, determined to descend to earth, and to secure maintenance and fame, in the guise of a mortal, by _authorship_. accordingly, the incognito divinity established himself in an attic, after the usual fashion of the sons of genius, and commenced inditing a poem--a long epic poem, plying his pen with the patient industry inspired by necessity, the best stimulus of human effort. at length, the task of the god completed, he, with great difficulty, procured the means of offering it to the world in printed form. the epic of apollo, the god of poetry, _fell, pre-doomed, from the press_. no commendatory review had been secured, no fashionable publisher endorsed its merits. disgusted with the pursuit of the wealth and honors of earth, apollo returned to olympus, bequeathing to mortals, this advice:--"_would you secure earthly celebrity and riches, do not attempt intellectual and moral culture, but_ invent a pill!" * * * * * instances of the successful _pursuit of knowledge under difficulties_ frequently present themselves in our contemporaneous history, both in our own country and in foreign lands. indeed, the history of the human mind goes far toward proving that, not the pampered scions of rank and luxury, but the hardy sons of poverty and toil, have been, most frequently, the benefactors of the race. well has the poet said:-- "the busy world shoves angrily aside the man who stands with arms a-kimbo set, until occasion tell him what to do; and he who waits to have his task marked out, shall die, and leave his errand unfulfilled." the _learned blacksmith_, as he is popularly called, acquired thirty, or more, different languages, while daily working at his laborious trade. he was accustomed to study while taking his meals, and to have an open book placed upon the anvil, while he worked. a celebrated physiological writer, alluding to the habits of this persevering devotee of philology, says, that nothing but his uninterrupted practice of his vulcan-tasks preserved his health under the vast amount of mental labor he imposed upon himself. another of our distinguished countrymen, now a prominent popular orator, is said to have accumulated food for future usefulness, while devoting the energies of the outer man to the employment of _a wagoner_, amid the grand scenic influences of the majestic alleghanies. the early life of franklin, of the "mill-boy of the slashes," of webster, and of many others whose names have become watchwords among us, are, doubtless, familiar to you, as examples in this respect. * * * * * looking upon the busy active world around me,--as i sometimes like to do--from behind the screen of my newspaper, seated in the reading-room of a hotel, i became the auditor of the following conversation, between two young men, who were stationed near a window, watching the passing throng of a crowded thoroughfare. "by george! there's van k----," exclaimed one, with unusual animation. "which one,--where?" eagerly interrogated his companion. "that's he, this side, with the byronic nose, and short steps--he's great! what a fellow he is for making money, though!" "does it by his talents, don't he?--nobody like him, in the bar of this state, for genius,--that's a fact--carries everything through by the _force of genius_!" "dev'lish clever, no doubt," assented the other, "but he used to study, i tell you, like a hero, when he was younger." "never heard that of him," answered the other youth, "how the deuce could he? he has always been a _man about town_--real fashionable fellow--practised always, since he was admitted, and everybody knows no one dines out, and goes to parties with more of a rush than van k----, and he always has." "that may all be, but my mother, who has known him well for years, was telling me, the other day, that those who were most charmed with his wit, and belle-lettre scholarship, when he first came upon the _tapis_, little knew the pains he took to accomplish himself. '_he exhibited the result, not the machinery_,' she said, but he _did_ study, and study hard, when other young fellows were asleep, or raising h----!" "as for that," interrupted the other, "he always did his full share of all the deviltry going, or i am shrewdly mistaken!" "nobody surpasses him at that, any more than at his regular trade," laughed his companion--"oh, but he's rich! jim williams was telling me (jim studies with s---- and van k----) how he put down old s---- the other day. it seems s---- had been laid on the shelf with a tooth-ache--dev'lish bad--face all swelled up--old fellow real sick, and no mistake. well, one morning, after he'd been gone several days, he managed to pull up, and make his appearance at the office. it was early--no one there but van k---- and the boys--jim and the rest of the fellows--tearing away at the books and papers. so old s---- dropped down in an arm-chair by the stove, and began a hifalutin description of his sorrows and sufferings while he had been sick--quite in the 'pile on the agony' style! well, just as the old boy got fairly warmed up, and was going it smoothly, van k---- bawled out:--'y-a-s! mr. s----! will you have time, this morning, to look over these papers, in the case of smith against brown?' jim said he never saw an old rip so cut down in all his life, and, as soon as he went out, there was a general bust up, at his expense!" "how confounded heartless!" exclaimed the elder youth, rising--"by heaven, i hope a man needn't set aside the common sympathies and decencies of humanity, to secure success in his profession, or in society!" and as he passed me, i caught the flush of manly indignation that mantled his beardless cheek, and the lightning-flash of youthful genius that enkindled his large blue eyes. * * * * * "what are you doing there, sir?" inquired one of the early presidents of our republic, of his nephew, who was standing before an open writing-desk, in his private apartment. "only getting some paper and pencils, sir," replied the young man. "that stationery, sir, belongs to the federal government!" returned the american patriot, impressively, and sternly, and resumed his previous occupation. * * * * * daniel webster, in conversation with a familiar friend, said: "from the time that, at my mother's feet, or on my father's knees, i first learned to lisp verses from the sacred writings, they have been my daily study, and vigilant contemplation. if there be anything in my style or thoughts worthy to be commended, the credit is due to my kind parents, in instilling into my early mind a love for the scriptures." * * * * * "how long will it take you," inquired napoleon, of the young brother-in-law of junot, "to acquaint yourself with the coptic language, and be prepared to go to egypt on a secret service?" "three months, sire," replied the energetic frenchman, with scarcely a perceptible pause for consideration. "_bien!_" returned the great captain, "begin at once." and he moved on in his briefly-interrupted walk, through the _salon_ of the beautiful mother of the youth, saying to the turkish ambassador, who accompanied his stroll:--"there is such a son as one might expect from such a mother!" three months from that night there left the private cabinet of napoleon, a stripling, of slight form and yet unsunned brow, charged by him who _knew men by intuition_, with a task of fearful risk and responsibility; and, on the morrow, he was embarked on the blue waters of the mediterranean, speeding toward a land where, from the heights of the pyramids, a thousand years would behold his deeds! * * * * * "i swear, i'll cut that woman! i'll never call there again, that i am determined!" cried paul duncan, impetuously. "but why, brother? don't judge too hastily," replied his sister, gently. "the whole family have always been so kind to us; for my part, i think one seldom meets persons of more polished manners, and"---- "polished manners!" interrupted the irritable man, rudely, "what do you call _polished manners_? i gave up r---- himself, just because he is so devilish _un_-polished, long ago. he passed me, once or twice, in wall-street, with his head down, and didn't even bow! after that i let him run!" "he is so engrossed in his philanthropic schemes that, i suppose, he really did not see you," interposed his sister, mildly. "but the ladies are not responsible for his peccadilloes." "no, they cannot answer for their own, _to me_," retorted the other, with bitterness. "when i went in, last evening, she and her mother were both in the room. the old lady rose, civilly enough, but mrs. r---- kept her seat, partly behind a table, even when i went to her and shook hands." "dear brother," expostulated his companion, "don't you know that mrs. r---- is not well? she has not been out in months." "what the devil, then, does she make her appearance for, if she can't observe the common proprieties of life?" "i doubt whether you would have seen her, had she not been in the room when you entered. did she remain during the whole time of your call?" "certainly; but the old woman slipped out, when some bustle appeared to be going on in the hall, and never made her appearance again, at all, only sending in a servant, just as i was going away, to say that she 'hoped to be excused, as her father had just arrived.'" "he is very aged, and she always attends upon him herself, when he is there, even to combing his hair," explained the gentler spirit. "i remember admiring her devotion to the old man, who is very peculiar, and somewhat disagreeable to persons generally, when i was staying there a day or two." "well, well; what has that to do with her treatment of me? couldn't she trust him with the rest of the family for a few minutes? there is a tribe of women always on hand there, besides a retinue of servants." "if you will permit me to say so, without offense, charley," returned the lady, with sudden determination of manner, "i fear you did not display your usual _tact_ on the occasion, and that you, perhaps, took offense at circumstances resulting from the embarrassment of our friends, rather than from any intention to be impolite to you. ladies are not always equally well, equally self-possessed, equally in company-mood, or company-dress. i don't know what might not befall any of us, were we not judged of, by our friends rather by our general manner to them, than by any little peculiarities, of which we may be ourselves wholly unconscious at the time." * * * * * if you are as much impressed as i was, upon first perusing them, with the following sentences from sir humphrey davy's pen, you will require no apology from me, for transcribing them here. "i envy no quality of mind or intellect in others--not of genius, power, wit, or fancy; but, if i could choose what would be most delightful, and, i believe, most useful, to me, i should prefer _a firm religious belief_, to every other blessing, for it makes life a discipline of goodness, creates new hope, when earthly hopes vanish, and throws over the decay, the destruction, of existence, the most gorgeous of all light; awakens life, even in death, and, from decay, calls up beauty and divinity; makes an instrument of torture and shame the ladder of ascent to paradise; and, far above all combination of earthly hopes, calls up the most delightful visions--palms and amaranths, the gardens of the blessed, the security of everlasting joys, where the sensualist and the skeptic view only gloom, decay, and annihilation." with these sublime words, my dear nephews, i bid you, affectionately, adieu! henry lunettes. letter xii. choice of companions and friends--selection of a pursuit in life--courtship--marriage--housekeeping--pecuniary matters, etc. my dear nephews: i think it was burke who said that those who desire to improve, should always choose, as companions, persons of more knowledge and virtue than themselves. he had, however, the happy faculty of eliciting information from all with whom he came in contact, even as the bee extracts sweetness from the most insignificant and unattractive flower. it is said of him, you are aware, that he never took refuge under a projecting eave for five minutes, to escape a shower, with another man, without either giving or receiving instruction. his excellent habit in this respect, nevertheless, in no degree invalidated the practical wisdom of the remark i have ascribed to this celebrated statesman. it is not easy to attach too much importance to the _choice of companions and friends_, especially during that period of life when we are most susceptible to outward influences. much enjoyment is derived from association with those whose tastes, pursuits, and sentiments are similar to our own; but, in making a selection in this respect, it is better to seek the companionship of persons whose influence will have the effect to elevate rather than to depress our own mental and moral standard. hence, young persons will be most improved by the example of those whose greater maturity of years and acquirement give them the advantage of _experience_. byron and others of the morbid school to which he belonged, or rather, perhaps, which he originated, strove to establish as a truth, the libellous charge that humanity is incapable of true, disinterested friendship. happily for the dignity and healthfulness of the youthful mind, this affected misanthropy, having had its day, is dying the natural death to which error is doomed, and we are again permitted to respect our common nature without wholly renouncing our claims to poetic sensibility! it seems, to my poor perceptions, that there needs no better test of the capacities of our fellow-creatures, with regard to the nobler sentiments, than _our own self-consciousness_! if we know ourselves capable of lofty aspirations, of self-sacrifice for others' good, of rejoicing in the happiness of our friends, of deep, enduring affection for them, by what arrogant right shall we assume ourselves superior to the race to which we belong? as the man who habitually rails at the gentler sex must, necessarily, have been peculiarly unfortunate in his _earliest associations_ with woman, so he who professes a disbelief in true friendship, may be presumed, not only to have chosen his associates unwisely, but to be himself ill-constituted and ill-disciplined. if ----"virtue is more than a shade or a sound, and man may her voice, in this being, obey," then is friendship one of the purest and highest sources of human enjoyment! eschew, then, the debasing, soul-restraining maxims of byron, rochefoucauld, and their imitators, and seek in communion with the gifted and the good, elevated enjoyment and inspiring incentives to noble purposes and manly achievements. but if the old spanish proverb, "_show me your friends and i will tell you what you are_," is applicable to the selection of ordinary associates, of how much more significance is it in relation to _confidants_! to require such a friend, pre-supposes the need of _advice_, and only superiority in age and knowledge of the world and of the human heart, can qualify any one for the responsibility thus assumed. nothing is more frequently volunteered by the inexperienced than advice, while _they who properly appreciate its importance are the least likely to give it unasked_. in connection with the subject of confidences and confidants, ponder well the concentrated wisdom contained in this brief sentence: "be careful _of whom you speak, to whom you speak, and how, and when, and where_." if from self-consciousness we draw conclusive proofs of the elevated powers of our nature, we also learn, with equal certainty, the need that all have of forbearance, lenity, and forgiveness. they who look for _perfection_ in human companions, will entail upon themselves a life-long solitude of spirit. some one has prettily said that the fault of a friend is like a flaw in a beautiful china vase; the defect is remediless; let us overlook it, and dwell only upon what will give us pleasure. it is almost useless to attempt to give you any advice with respect to the choice of an occupation in life. i trust, however, that you need no argument to convince you that respectability and happiness unitedly require, let your pecuniary circumstances be what they may, that you should have such an incentive to the due exercise of your powers of body and mind. no consideration is, perhaps, more important than that of _following the natural inclination_ in making this decision, provided outward circumstances render it possible to do so; and in this country a man may almost always overcome obstacles of this kind, by patient perseverance. the impression, formerly so prevalent, that none but the three learned professions, as they are called, require a thorough education, as a prelude, is, i must believe, much less generally entertained, than when i was a young man. and this is as it should be. there can be no human employment that is not facilitated by the aid of a cultivated, disciplined intellect, and our young countrymen, who so frequently make some temporary and lucrative occupation the stepping-stone to advancement, should always bear this in mind. one day, america, like venice of old, will be a land of merchant princes--but none will take rank among these self-elevated patricians but they who add the polish, the refinement and the wealth of intellect, to the power derived from external circumstances. the _physical sciences_ and the _inventive_ and _practical arts_ are claiming the attention of our times to a degree never before known; and these afford new and sufficient avenues for the exercise of talents tending rather to mechanical than to metaphysical exertion. remember, always, that a man may give dignity to any honest employment to which he shall devote his energies--and better so, than to possess no claims to respect except those bestowed by position. as the pursuit of wealth as an end, rather than a means, is not the noblest of human purposes, so mere occupation and external belongings do not determine the real worth of mind or character. "i am brother to the _worker_, and i love his manly look, as i love a thought of beauty, living, star-like, in a book. i am brother to the humblest, in the world's red-handed strife,-- those who wield the sword of labor, in the battle ranks of life! * * * * * * * * * * never let the worker falter, nor his cause--for hope is strong; he shall live a monarch glorious in the people's coming throng. there's a sound comes from the future, like the sound of many lays; freedom _strikes her harp for toilers_, loud as when the thunder plays!" while on this subject, permit me to call your attention to a matter which, though of minor importance, is not unworthy of consideration. men with but little knowledge of the world are apt to _betray their occupation by their manner and conversation--to smell of the shop_, as it is often, somewhat coarsely, expressed. thus, an _artist_ will talk habitually of such matters as arrest the peculiar perceptions he has quickened into acuteness by culture, and even use the technicalities of language which, though familiar to him, may be, and probably are, unintelligible to persons of general cultivation only. a _physician_ will sometimes go about with a heavy, ivory-headed cane, and a grand, pompous look, which may, perchance, be _professional_, but it is not the less absurd, unless as a means of impressing the vulgar; and he often falls into the impression that any sacrifice to the graces, or any regard for the weaknesses of humanity, when in a sick-room, are entirely beneath his dignity. _lawyers_ will use latin phrases, and legal technicalities, in the society of ladies, and the _gentlemen of the black cloth_ not only carry the pulpit into the drawing-room, but permit themselves to be lionized by devout old women, and sentimental young ones, into the best seat in an apartment, or a carriage, the tit-bits at table, and a sum-total of mawkish man-worship. as i have said, all this savors of _ignorance of the world_, as it does of latent egotism, and deficient self-respect. note, therefore, the probable effects--when unrestrained by self-scrutiny--of _moving in a limited sphere of action_, and always bear in mind that your individual occupations and interests, though of great personal importance, are comparatively insignificant in the consideration of others; that you yourself make, when viewed from a general stand-point, but _a single unit_ of the great mass to whom your interests, purposes, and merits, are matters alike of profound indifference and unquestioning ignorance. "no man," says jean paul, _the only one_, as the germans call him, "can live piously or die righteously without a wife;" and one of the most celebrated observers of human nature among our own countrymen, has bequeathed us the recorded opinion that an early marriage with an amiable and virtuous woman is, next to a firm religious faith, the best safeguard to the happiness and principles of a young man. in our prosperous land, where the means of living are diversified almost equally with the necessities of life, it is far less hazardous to assume the responsibilities arising from early marriage, than in other countries. everything is, in a certain sense, precocious here. extreme youth is no barrier to independence of effort and position--none to self-reliance and success. it may be questioned whether the tax thus prematurely imposed upon the intellect, as well as the physique, does not, in some degree, tend, not only to eventual mediocrity of power, but to quickened diminution of the vital energies. hence it is, doubtless, well to adopt the _golden mean_ in regard to every important step in life. and though i would by no means counsel you not to marry until you have accumulated a fortune, i would strenuously advise you to possess yourselves of something like a prospective certainty of maintenance, and of sound knowledge of human nature and of _yourself_, before so far committing your future happiness. one prominent cause of the multitude of unhappy unions, i am persuaded, is the ignorance of their own true characters with which young persons are so frequently united. wholly immature in body and mind, when they commence married life, as they develop, under the influence of time and circumstance, they awaken to the discovery of an irreconcilable difference, not only in taste, sentiment, and opinion, but, what is worse, in principle. this is one extreme. on the contrary, the marriage of persons of decided character, before habit has rendered it difficult to mould themselves into conformity with the peculiarities from which none are exempt, is desirable. the sooner those who are to tread the path of life side by side, learn the assimilation that shall render the way smoother and easier to both, the greater will be their share of earthly contentment; and this will be most readily achieved, no doubt, while youthful pliancy and adaptability still exist. every discriminating, self-informed man, should be the best judge of the essential requisites for domestic happiness, in his individual case. such an one will not need to be reminded that all abstract or generally-applicable rules must needs be modified, in many instances, for personal usefulness. but no one will question the desirableness of _health_, _good temper_, and _education_, in the companion of domestic life. by education, i do not mean an acquaintance with all, or even with any one, of what are termed _accomplishments_. a woman may be well-informed, and self-disciplined, to a degree that will render her an admirable wife for a man of sense, without being able to speak any but her vernacular tongue, or play upon any instrument, save that _harp of a thousand strings--the human heart_! do not understand me as undervaluing the graceful embellishments of social and domestic life, as presented by the lovelier part of creation. i wish only to express, in my plain, blunt way, the conviction that the most elegant and varied accomplishments are a very poor equivalent for _poverty of the head and heart_, in the woman who is to become the friend and counsellor to whom you will look for enduring, discriminating affection and sympathy, as well when the trials, the cares, and the sorrows of mortal existence shall lower heavily over you, as while you mutually dance along amid the flowers and the sunshine of youth. a career of fashionable idleness, irresponsibility, and dissipation, is not a desirable prelude to the systematic routine of quiet duties essential to the home-happiness of a man of moderate resources and retired habits. it may be questioned whether a woman who has been long accustomed to the adulation and the excitement of a crowd, will be content to find enjoyment, sufficient and enduring, in the simple pleasures which alone will be at her command, thus circumstanced. but, while even the incentives afforded by all the affection of which such an ephemeral being is capable, will render conformity to this new position difficult of attainment, she who is early accustomed to look thoughtfully upon life as beautiful and bright indeed, but as involving serious responsibilities and solemn obligations, will bring to a union with one of similar perceptions and principles, a sense of right and duty, which, if strengthened by a commingling of hearts, will make it no discouraging task to her to _begin with her husband where he begins_. such an one will be content to tread on at an even pace beside him, through the roughness that may beset his progress, cheerfully encountering obstacles, resolute to conquer or endure, as the case may be; and ever fully imbued with that patient, hopeful, loving spirit, whose motto is "bear one another's burdens." you will think it more consistent with the caution of an old man, than the ardor natural to a young one, that i should advise you to pay proper respect to the claims of the relations or guardians of any lady to whom you wish to pay your addresses. i will, nevertheless, venture to assert that, for many reasons, you will, in after life, have reason to congratulate yourself upon pursuing a manly, open, honorable course in relation to every feature of this important era in your career. a friendship with a woman considerably older than himself (if she be married, it will be all the better) and especially if he have not older sisters, or is separated from them, is of incalculable advantage to a young man, when based upon true principles of thought and action,--not only in relation to subjects especially pertaining to affairs of the heart, but respecting a thousand nameless practical matters, as well as of mental culture, taste, sentiment, and conventional proprieties. such a female friend--matured by the advantages of nature and circumstances--will secure you present enjoyment of an elevated character, together with constant benefit and improvement, and expect from you, in return for the great good she renders you, only those graceful courtesies and attentions which a man of true good-breeding always regards as equally obligatory and agreeable. let there be, however, a certain _gravity_ mingled with the manifestations of regard you exhibit towards all married women, the dominance of _respect_ in your manner towards them, and never permit any consideration to induce you to forget the established right of every husband to sanction or not, at his pleasure, the most abstractly unexceptionable friendship between his wife and another man. every man with a nice sense of honor, will indicate, by his prevailing bearing and language towards women a _felt_ distinction between the intentions of friendship, and those of a suitor or lover. and while he observes towards all women, and under all circumstances, the respectful courtesy due to them, he will not hesitate to make his purpose intelligible, _where he has conceived sufficient esteem to engender matrimonial intentions_. proper self-respect, as well as the consideration due to a lady and her friends, demands this. i repeat, that no degree of devotion to one, excuses incivility to other female acquaintances in society; and i will add that the most acceptable attentions to a woman of sense and delicacy, are not those that render her generally conspicuous, but such as express an ever-present remembrance of her comfort and a quick discernment of her real feelings and wishes. so in the matter of presents, and similar expressions of politeness, good taste will dictate no lavish expenditure, unwarranted by pecuniary resources, and inconsistent with the general surroundings of either party, but rather a prevailing harmony that will be really a juster tribute to the object of your regard, as well as a more creditable proof of your own tact and judgment. all compliments, whether thus expressed, or by word of mouth, should be characterized by delicate discrimination and punctilious respect. it is said that women judge of character by details: certain it is that what may seem trifles to us, often sensibly influence their opinions of men. their perceptions are so keen, their sensibilities so acute, in comparison with ours, that we would err materially in estimating them by the same gauge we apply to each other, and thus the mysteries of the female heart will always remain in a degree insoluble, even to the acutest masculine penetration. but though the nicest shades of sentiment and feeling may escape our coarser perceptions, we need no unusual discernment to perceive the effects of kindness, gentleness, and forbearance in our domestic relations. "i cannot much esteem the man," rowland hill remarked, "whose wife, children, and servants, and even the cat and dog, are not sensibly happier for his presence." depend upon it, no fabled genii could confer on you a talisman so effective as the power bestowed by the enshrinement in your heart of the _law of kindness_. in proportion to the delicacy of woman's organization is her susceptibility to such influence, and he who carelessly outrages the exquisite sensibilities that make the peculiar charm of her nature, will too often learn, when the lesson brings with it only the bitterness of experience, ----"how light a cause may move dissension between hearts that love." shun, then, as you would the introduction into your physical system of an insidious but irradicable poison, "_the first slight swerving of the heart, that words are powerless to express!_" but while you seek to illustrate your constant remembrance that you have, by the act of marriage, "bound yourself to be good-humored, affable, discreet, forgiving, patient, and joyful, with respect to frailties and imperfections to the end of life," bear in mind, also, that your influence over another imposes duties of various kinds upon you, and that you should use that influence with far-sighted wisdom, to produce the greatest ultimate good. thus you will be convinced that it is the truest kindness to minister to the _intellect_ and the _affections_ of woman, rather than to her vanity, and that in proportion as you assist her to exalt her _higher nature_ into dominance, will you be rewarded by a spirit-union commensurate to the most exalted necessities of your own. i have known men, in my time, who seemed to have a fixed belief that all manifestations of the gentler instincts of humanity are unworthy of the dignity of manhood, and who, by habitually repressing all exhibitions of natural emotion, had apparently succeeded in steeling their hearts, as well against all softening external impressions as to the inspiration of the "still, sad music of" their better selves. all elevated emotions, whether of an affectionate or religious character, are too sacred for general observance: "when thou prayest, enter into thy closet and _shut the door_," was the direction of our great teacher, and so with the _religion of the heart_ (if you will permit me the phrase), it would be desecrated, were it possible--which from its very nature it is not--to parade its outward tokens to indifferent eyes. and yet i return to a prior stand-point and insist that there is a middle-ground, even here, the _juste milieu_, as the french say.--_apropos_--the ancient romans used the same word to designate _family affection_ and _piety_. intimately connected with the happiness of domestic life is the due consideration of _pecuniary affairs_. but, before we proceed to their discussion, let me, as long a somewhat scrutinizing observer of the varying phases of social life, in our own country especially, enter my earnest protest against the practice so commonly adopted by newly-married persons, of _boarding_, in place of at once establishing for themselves the distinctive and ennobling prerogatives of home. language and time would alike fail me in an endeavor to set forth the manifold evils inevitably growing out of this fashionable system. take the advice of an old man, who has tested theories by prolonged experience, and at once establish your _penates_ within four walls, and under a roof that will, at times, exclude all who are not properly denizens of your household, upon assuming the rights and obligations of married life. do not be deterred from this step by the conviction that you cannot shrine your home-deities upon pedestals of marble. _cover their bases with flowers_--god's free gift to all--and the plainest support will suffice for them, if it be but _firm_. with right views of the true aims and enjoyments of life, it will be no impossible achievement to establish your household appointments within the limits of your income, whatever that may be, and to entertain the conviction that the duty of providing for possible, if not probable, future contingencies, is imperative with those who have assumed conjugal and paternal responsibilities. firm adherence to such a system of living will bring with it a thousand collateral pleasures and privileges, and secure the only true independence. nothing is more unworthy than the sacrifice of genuine hospitality, taste, and refinement, to the requisitions of mere fashion, in such arrangements; no thraldom so degrading as that imposed by the union of poverty and false pride. what latent egotism, too, in the pre-supposed idea that the world at large takes careful cognizance of the individualizing specialities of any man, save when he trenches on the reserved rights of others. true self-respect, then, as well as enlarged perceptions of real life, will dictate a judicious adjustment of means to desired results, and teach the willing adoption of safe moderation in all. happily, _comfort_ and _refinement_ may be secured without ruinous expenditure, even by the most modest beginners in housekeeping. industry, ingenuity and taste, will lend embellishment to the simplest home, and the young, at least, can well afford to dispense with enervating luxury and pretentious display. with due deference to individual taste, i would commend the cultivation and gratification of a _love of books and works of art_, in preference to the purchase of costly furniture, mirrors, and the like. fine prints (which are preferable to indifferent paintings) are now within obtainable reach, by many who permit themselves few indulgences, comparatively, and everything having a tendency to foster the æsthetical perceptions and enjoyments of children, and to exalt these gratifications into habitual supremacy over the grosser pleasures of sense, or the exhibitions of vanity, is worthy of regard. and as no avoidable demands of the outer life should be permitted to diminish the resources of either the heart or the mind, well-selected _books_ will take high rank among the belongings of a well-appointed house. to sum up all, my dear friends, if you aim at rational happiness, let there be what is artistically termed _keeping_ in your whole system of life. let your style of dress, your mode of housekeeping, and entertaining, your relaxations, amusements, occupations, and resources, be harmoniously combined. * * * * * "where and how is the most charming of jewesses?" i asked one morning of an old friend, upon whom i had been making an unreasonably early call, rising to go. "here, sir, and very well," responded a cheerful voice from an adjoining room. "will you not come in a moment?" the smiling "home-mother" opened wide the half-open door through which my queries had been answered, and seconded her daughter's invitation. there sat my fair young friend, with a small table before her, covered with sewing materials, and a huge overcoat upon her lap. she was in a simple, neat morning-dress, and plying the needle with great industry. she apologized for not rising to receive me, but not for continuing her occupation after i seated myself. "as busily engaged as ever, i see," said i. "rather more so than usual, just now. fred has come home in a very dilapidated condition." "and you are repairing him. but what are you doing with that huge, bearish-looking coat? it's as much as you can do to lift it, i should judge." "oh, i've been putting in new front-facings and sleeve-linings, and fixing it up a little," returned she. "but, colonel, do tell me, have you read macaulay's second volume?" i replied that i had dipped into it, and added: "but, before we discuss macaulay, i want you to tell me how you learned to be so accomplished a tailoress?" "rebecca can do anything she wishes," said her mother, in a soft, gentle voice, "_the heart is a good teacher_." "thank you, mother," rejoined the sweet girl, "colonel lunettes will make allowance for your natural partiality." "i would, were it necessary, my dear," i answered, "but i can decide for myself in your case." a bow, a blush, and a pleasant laugh responded, and, rising, she deposited the heavy garment she had been repairing, upon the arm of a chair, and immediately reseating herself, placed a large basket full of woollen stockings, at her side, threaded a stout alderman-like-looking darning needle with thick yarn, and began to mend a formidable hole in one of the socks. her brother is an engineer, and i divined at a glance, that those strong, warm things were, like the blanket-coat, part of his outfit for a campaign in the swamps. "i am delighted with macaulay's elaborate sketches of individuals," resumed the busy seamstress, drawing out her long needle and thread, and returning it with the speed and accuracy of nicely-adjusted machinery; "do you recollect his portraiture of the _trimmer_?" "it is very fine," i answered, like everything else macaulay has written. "nothing, however, has impressed me more, thus far, in his history, than his description of the condition of the clergy of the established church, in the rural districts, during the reign of james, and later even." "i, too, was exceedingly interested in it," replied rebecca. "and the more, that i was reminded of the fate of the _daughters_ of english country curates, even at this day; of 'gentle blude,' many times, born and educated ladies, they are subjected, frequently, through life, to toil and suffering that would excuse their envying the fate of a mere kitchen-drudge!" "they are, usually, governesses for life, and never marry," continued i. "never marry--though they are so educated and disciplined, as to be peculiarly well-fitted for the fulfillment of woman's dearest and highest destiny! thank god! i was born where such social thraldom, such hateful monstrosities, are not!" and the face that turned its glance upward, for an instant, with those last fervent words, was overspread with a glow bright as the crimson hue of sunset. but, though my friend rebecca, was the last woman in the world to "die of a rose, in aromatic pain," she was a perfect sybarite, in some respects, as i will convince you. entering her mother's tasteful, pretty drawing-room, a few evenings after this conversation, i found the charming "jewess," as i sometimes called her, in allusion to scott's celebrated heroine, reading by the light of an astral lamp. she was elegantly, and, i suppose fashionably, dressed, and reclining in a large, luxurious-looking, stuffed chair, with her daintily-slippered feet, half buried in a soft crimson cushion. in short, she was the very impersonation of the "unbought grace" of one of nature's queens. had i been younger, by some fifty years, i should have been tempted, beyond a doubt, to do oriental homage to so much loveliness. "by the way, rebecca," said i, after a few minutes' chat with my hostess, "i must tell you of a witticism you elicited, this morning, from one of your admirers!" "one of my admirers! who, pray?" "guess! well, i won't tantalize you!--howard parker!" "you tell me something, colonel! i am not entitled to enter mr. parker on my list of friends." "what, what! that to me, my dear? i have a great mind to punish you, by not telling you what he said." "as you please, colonel lunettes!" with a coquettish toss of her long ringlets. "please, tell _me_, colonel!" interposed her mother, smilingly; "don't mind rebecca's nonsense--tell me!" "in a whisper?" i inquired, laughing, and glancing at the "jewess." "i hardly dare to venture that! well! meeting howard, who is a great favorite of mine, in the street, this morning, he told me he was coming here, to call. 'steel your heart, then,' said i--'or _she will steal it_!' he answered, as quick as thought." "quite a _jeu d'esprit_!" exclaimed rebecca, laughing gaily. "but, colonel, mr. parker may be witty, accomplished, and intellectual, but he is _not a gentleman_!" "my daughter, you are severe," said her mother, deprecatingly. "i don't mean to be, mother; but"-- "from what do you draw such a sweeping inference, my child?" i inquired. "from _trifles_, dear sir, i admit; but ----'trifles make the sum of human things!' and slight peculiarities often indicate character. for instance, mr. parker keeps his hat on, when he is talking to ladies, and neglects his teeth and hair--you needn't laugh, mamma! yesterday morning, he joined me in the street, and came home with me, or, nearly home; for he stopped short, a little way from the house, let me cross a great mud-puddle, as well as i could, alone, and open the gate for myself, though i had my hands full of things. it's true, he had the grace to color a little, when i said, significantly, as he bade me good morning, that i was glad i had crossed the slough of despond, without accident." "that showed that a sensible woman could correct his faults," i remarked. "i don't know about that," replied my hostess. "such things, as rebecca says, _indicate character_; and i would not advise any young lady to marry a man, with the expectation of reforming him." "not of a cardinal vice, certainly," said i; "but there are"-- here a servant interrupted me with--"mr. parker's compliments, miss," and offered my fastidious young friend a large parcel, wrapped in a wet, soiled newspaper, and tied with dirty red tape. "ugh!" exclaimed the sybarite, recoiling, with unrepressed disgust. "what is it, betty? it can't be for me!" "it _is_, miss, an' no mistake--the boy said it got wet in the rain, widout, as he was bringing it, an' no umberrellar wid him." "will you just take it into the hall, and take off the paper, biddy? be careful not to let it get dirty and wet, inside, will you?"--with studied _nonchalance_. presently biddy laid down a large, handsomely-bound volume, and a note, before the young lady. "it is a copy of macaulay's 'lays of ancient rome,'" said she, skimming over the note. "mr. parker was alluding to some passage in one of the poems, this morning. he says i will find it marked and begs me to accept the book, as a philopoena--oh, here are the lines--i thought them very fine as he recited them. shall i read them, mamma? and you, sir, will you hear them?" "'then none was for a party; then all were for the state; then the great man helped the poor, and the poor man loved the great; then lands were fairly portioned; then spoils were fairly sold: the romans were like brothers, in the brave days of old.'" the enthusiasm with which the appreciating reader read this spirited passage, did not prevent my observing that she held her handkerchief closely pressed upon the back of the exquisite antique binding of the volume, in the hope, as i inferred, of drying the stain of wet which i noticed, at once attracted her attention when she took up the gift. the open note, as it lay upon the table, disclosed a torn, ragged edge, as if it had been carelessly severed from a sheet of foolscap. whatever her reflections, the young lady had too much instinctive delicacy to comment upon these peccadilloes, and so, of course, i could institute no defense of my friend. i, therefore, _tacked_, as a sailor would say. "howard's a noble fellow," said i, "in spite of his little oddities, but he has one fault, unfortunately, which i fear will prevent his winning much favor with the ladies." "what is that?" inquired my young auditor, in a tone of seeming indifference, but with a heightened color, and an eager glance. "he is _poor_!" "do you mean that he _lives by his wits_, as the phrase is?" asked my hostess. "by no means! simply this:--parker began the world without a dollar, and has had, thus far, to 'paddle his own canoe,' as he expresses it, against wind and tide." "that is quite the best thing i ever knew of him!" exclaimed rebecca, with animation. "it does him great credit, in my estimation! but, colonel, i cannot agree with you in thinking mr. parker, _poor_!" "no?" "no, indeed! in my regard, _no man in our country is poor, who possesses health, education, and an unblemished reputation_!" * * * * * in the library of the only representative of the british government in this country--and he was the lineal representative, as well, of one of the oldest, wealthiest and most aristocratic of noble english families--whose guest i remember to have been, i found great numbers of books, which he had brought with him from home, but they were arranged upon simple, unpainted pine shelves, put up for convenience, while the owner should remain at washington. he brought his books, because he wanted them for constant use--but, though accustomed to the utmost luxuriousness of appointment at home, he did not dream of bringing furniture across the atlantic, or of apologizing for the absence of more than was demanded by necessity in his temporary residence. i remember, too, to have heard it said that one of the recent governors of the empire state had not a single article of mahogany furniture in his house at albany; and yet, nobody complained of any want of hospitality or courtesy on his part, while making this discovery. the simple fact was, that, being without private fortune, and the salary of his office insufficient for such expenditures, _he could not afford it_--and no man, i believe, is bound to run in debt, to gratify either the expectations or the vanity of his political constituents. as a contrast to these anecdotes, how does the following incident impress you? walking down broadway, in new york, one bright morning with a distinguished american statesman, he suddenly came to a full halt before a show-window in which glittered, among minor matters, a superb _candelabra_, in all the glory of gilding and pendants. "that's a very handsome affair, lunettes," said my companion; "let us step in here a moment." we entered accordingly. a salesman came forward. "what is the price of that candelabra, in the window?" inquired the statesman. "six hundred dollars," replied the young man. "pack it up and send it to m----," replied my friend, turning to go. "and the bill, sir?" "you may send the bill to me--to d---- w----, at washington." i happened to know that the great man had, only within a day or two, been released, by the generosity of several of his personal friends, from an embargo upon his movements that would otherwise have prevented his eloquent thunder from being heard in the national senate! * * * * * the massive head and stately bearing of john marshall always rise before my mind's eye, when i recall this characteristic illustration of his native manliness: the chief justice was in the habit of going to market himself, and carrying home his purchases. he might frequently be seen at sunrise, with poultry in one hand and vegetables in the other. on one of these occasions, a young northerner, who had recently removed to richmond, and thus become a fellow-townsman of the great virginian, was heard loudly complaining that no one could be found to carry home his turkey. the chief justice, who was unknown to the new-comer, advancing, inquired where the stranger lived and on being informed, said, very quietly--"that is on my way; i will take it for you;" and receiving the turkey, walked briskly away. when he reached the house that had been designated, marshall awaited the arrival of the owner, and delivered up his burden. "what shall i pay you?" inquired the youth. "nothing, whatever," replied the biographer of washington, "it was all in my way, and not the slightest trouble--you are welcome;" and he pursued his course. "who is that polite old man?" asked the young stranger of a by-stander. he was answered--"_that is john marshall, chief justice of the united states._" i well remember, too, how often i used to join my old friend, chief justice spencer, of new york, as he climbed the long hill leading to his residence, at albany, with a load of poultry in his hand. and i dare say his great-hearted brother-in-law, de witt clinton, often did the same thing. certain i am, that he was the most unostentatious of human beings, as simple and natural as a boy, to the end of his days. * * * * * i have the vanity to believe that you will not have forgotten the little sketch i gave you, in a previous letter, of my interesting young friend julia peters. not long after my brief acquaintance with her--that is, within a year--i received a newspaper neatly inclosed, and sealed with a fanciful device, in prettily-tinted wax, which being interpreted for me by a fair adept in such matters, was said to read--"love, or cupid, carrying a budget to you from me." the following paragraph was carefully marked: "married:--in the church of the holy innocents, in this village, on tuesday, may th, by the rev. b---- y----, st. john benton and julia a. peters, daughter of the late fitz-james peters, esq., of princeton, n. j." then followed this sentence, in large characters: "the printer and the 'carrier' acknowledge a bountiful receipt of superb wedding-cake.- - - _may every blessing attend the happy pair!_" i, too, had my share of the wedding-cake, accompanied by very tasteful, simple cards, as well as a previous invitation to the wedding, written jointly by mr. and mrs. y----, and in terms most flatteringly cordial, and complimentary. mrs. y---- and i had, by this time, exchanged letters more than once. i will give you, as a specimen of the agreeable epistolary style of my fair friend, the following communication, which reached me some two or three months after the marriage of her sister. "rectory, ----, _aug. d_, ----. "dear col. lunettes:-- "i avail myself of my very first leisure to comply with the request contained in your most kind and acceptable letter of last week. whether your amiable politeness does not overrate my capacity to write a 'true woman's letter--full of little significant details and particularities,' remains to be seen. i will do my best, at least, and 'naught extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.' "i hardly know where to begin, in answer to your query about the 'possibility of the most economical young people managing to live on so small an income.' the truth is, julia and i, thanks to a judicious mother, were _practically educated_, which makes all the difference in the world in a woman's capacity to 'make the worse appear the better reason' in matters of domestic management. the house they live in is their own. mr. benton, fortunately, possessed the means of fully paying for it (he was entirely frank with mr. y---- about all these matters, from the beginning) and julia was able to furnish it simply, though comfortably. it is a small establishment, to be sure,--a little house and a little garden, but it is _their own_, and that gives it a charm which it would not otherwise possess. they feel that they will have the benefit of such improvements as they may make, and it is wonderful what an effect this consciousness produces. the house was a plain, bald-looking building enough, when fitz-james bought it. julia said it would be a bold poetic license to call it _a cottage_!--but he has studied architecture, at intervals, as he has had time, with a view to future advancement, and so he devised, and partly constructed, tasteful little ornaments to surmount the windows, and a very pretty rustic porch in front. the effect was really almost magical when united with the soft, warm color that took the place of the glaring white of which every one is becoming so tired. it is quite picturesque, i assure you, now. as a romantic young lady said of it--'it is like the cottages we read of,--quite a picture-place.' but, pretty and tasteful as it is _outside_, one must become an inmate of julia's little eden, to know half its claims to admiration. it is just the neatest, snuggest, cosiest little nest (by the way they call it '_cosey cottage_,' as you will please remember when you write, dear sir) you can imagine. there is nothing grand, or even elegant, perhaps, but every part is thoroughly furnished for convenience and comfort, and _everything corresponds_. it is not like some city houses i have been in, where everything was expended in glare and display in the two parlors--'_un_wisely kept for show,' and up-stairs and in the kitchen, the most scanty, comfortless arrangements. julia's carpets and curtains are quite inexpensive, but the colors are well chosen for harmony of effect. (julia rather prides herself upon having things _artistic_, as she expresses it, even to the looping up of a curtain.) there is a sort of indescribable _expression_ about the little parlor, which, by the way, they _really use_, daily--her friends say--'how much this is like julia!' some of julia's crayon heads, and a sketch or two of mr. benton's are hung in the different rooms, and they have contrived, or rather imitated, (for i believe st. john said it was a french idea) the prettiest little _brackets_, which are disposed about the walls and corners of the parlor. they are only rough things that her husband makes up, covered by julia, with some dark material, and ornamented with fringe, costing almost nothing, but so pretty in effect for supporting vases of flowers or little figures, or something of that kind. then there is a tiny place, opening from the parlor, dignified with the name of _library_, where julia and benton 'draped,' and 'adjusted,' and re-draped, and re-adjusted, to their infinite enjoyment and content, and somewhat to _my amusement_, i will confess to _you_, dear sir. indeed they _trot in harness_, to borrow one of st. john's phrases,--most thoroughly _matched_, as well as _mated_, and go best together. _they_ think so, at least, i should infer, as they always _are_ together, if possible. julia helps benton in the garden--holds the trees and shrubs while he places them, and ties up the creeping-roses, and other things he arranges over the porch, and around the windows, and assists him with the lighter work of manufacturing rustic seats and stands, and baskets for the garden and summer-house; and benton (who has quite a set of tools) puts up shelves and various contrivances of that sort, and _did_ help to lay the carpets, etc., julia told me. indeed, while i was with them, mr. benton's daily life constantly reminded me of the beautiful injunction--'let every man show, by his kind acts and good deeds, how much of heaven he has in him.' "but i only tire you, dear sir, by my poor attempts to portray my sister's simple happiness--_you must see it for yourself_! i make no apology for the minuteness of my details,--if they seem puerile, colonel lunettes has himself to thank for my frankness, but i have yet to learn that my valued friend says, or writes, what he does not mean. "i have left to the last--because so pleasant a theme,--some reference to julia's pride and delight in your beautiful bridal-gift to her. she has, no doubt, long since, written to thank you; but i cannot deny myself the gratification of telling you how much she values and enjoys it,--from my own observation. it is really noticeable too, how exactly it suits with all the other table appointments she has--(unless perhaps it is a shade too handsome) only another proof of colonel lunettes' fine taste! mr. y----, to tease julia, asked her one evening, when she was indulging in a repetition of her usual eulogy upon the gift and the giver, whether she really meant to say that she _preferred_ a china tea-pot, sugar-bowl, and cream-cup, to silver ones. 'indeed i do,' said she, 'a silver tea-service for _me_, would be "sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought!" it would not suit my style at all.' julia says she shall never be perfectly happy until she makes tea for colonel lunettes, from her beautiful china, and mr. benton says colonel lunettes is the _only man in the world of whom he is jealous_! upon this, there always follows a gentle (_very_ gentle) twitching of st. john's whiskers, of which, i will add, by way of a description of the _personnel_ of the young man, he has a pair as black and curling as mr. y----'s,--indeed, i must concede that julia's husband is almost as handsome as my own! "we are all eagerly anticipating the fulfillment of your promise to visit our beautiful valley, while robed in the gorgeous hues of autumn. mr. y---- and i, are arranging everything with reference to so agreeable an event;--'we will go there, or see that,' we say, 'when colonel lunettes comes.' julia, too, is looking forward, with much pleasure, to welcoming so coveted a guest. 'i hope we shall be able to make the colonel _comfortable_, in our quiet way,' she always says, when speaking of your promised visit; 'you, and mr. y----, are so used to have the bishop, and other celebrities, that you don't know anything about being nervous, at such times; but poor me--just beginning, and such a novice!' upon this, her husband always appeals to me, to say whether i have nicer things to eat, anywhere, 'even at home,' and whether any sensible man could not content himself, even in such a 'little box,' for a few days, at least; especially, when well assured how happy and honored a certain young lady will be, on the occasion. and i must say, for julia, that her versatile powers are fully illustrated in her housekeeping. mr. y---- declares that nobody _but_ his wife can make such bread--a perfect cure for dyspepsia! and, as for the pumpkin-pies!--well, upon the whole, he has decided that we ought to spend _thanksgiving_ at 'cosey cottage.' "i have omitted to mention that, at julia's earnest instance, we left her little namesake--'colonel lunettes' pet,' as she delights to call herself--with her, when we were there. i hardly knew how to give her up, though but for a few weeks, even to her aunt. just before we came away, i said to her, 'i hope aunt julia, and uncle st. john, won't spoil you, my darling; your aunt has promised to scold you, when you are naughty.' 'oh, but 'ou see, mamma, i don't never mean to _be_ naughty,' she answered, almost stopping my breath with her little chubby arms clinging about my neck. "persuaded, dear sir, that you will have 'supped your full,' even to repletion, of a 'true woman's letter,' i will only add to mr. y----'s kindest remembrances and regards, the sincere assurance that i am, as ever, "your attached and grateful "cecilia d. y----. "col. henry lunettes." and now, my dear nephews, that the blessing of heaven may rest upon you, always, in "life's earnest toil and endeavor," is the affectionate and heartfelt prayer and farewell of your uncle hal. the end. transcriber's note i have used "=" to denote use of underlined text. inconsistencies have been retained in formatting, spelling, hyphenation, punctuation, and grammar, except where indicated in the list below: - period added after "sermon" on page vii - "patÉ" changed to "pÂtÉ" on page x - "aquaintances" changed to "acquaintances" on page xiv - period changed to a comma after "regard" on page xv - period changed to a comma after "tribute" on page xv - dash added after "etc." on page xvi - dash added after "importance" on page xviii - period changed to a comma after "society" on page xvix - period changed to a comma after "bouche" on page xvix - period changed to a comma after "relaxation" on page xvix - period changed to a comma after "remorse" on page xvix - period changed to a comma after "pathos" on page xvix - period changed to a comma after "wit" on page xvix - period changed to a comma after "drawing-room" on page xvix - period changed to a comma after "intellect" on page xvix - comma moved from mid-line to immedately after "discussion" on page xvix - period changed to a comma after "bagatelle" on page xvix - period changed to a comma after "epicureanism" on page xvix - period changed to a comma after "sketch" on page xvix - "onathan" changed to "jonathan"</sc> on page xxi - "compatable" changed to "compatible" on page xxiii - "s" changed to "his" on page - "eminated" changed to "emanated" on page - double quotes changed to single quotes around "kossuth," on page - "páté" changed to "pâté" on page - "singlarly" changed to "singularly" on page - "self control" changed to "self-control" on page - period added after "her" on page - quote added before "i" on page - "johnathan" changed to "jonathan" on page - single rather than double quotes used around "and here," on page - double quotes changed to single quotes before "i" and after "madame," on page - double quotes changed to single quotes before "that" and after "you?" on page - double quote added before "the" on page - double quote added before "before" on page - double quote added before "the" on page - double quote added before "you" and double quotes before "you" and after "madame?" changed to single quotes on page - double quote added before "and" and double quotes before "and" and after "com-for-ta-ble?" changed to single quotes on page - double quote added before "no" on page - double quote added before "bien" and after "please!'" and spoken text placed within single quotes on page - quote removed after "you?" on page - "nur sery" changed to "nursery" on page - single quote added before "cause" on page - double quote added after "minister?'" on page - "dont" changed to "don't" on page - "extertaining" changed to "entertaining" on page - "primative" changed to "primitive" on page - period added after "door" on page - single dot replaced by colon after "said" on page - period added after "process" on page - "the the" changed to "the" on page - quote removed after "morals!" on page - "grooms man" changed to "groomsman" on page - quotation marks corrected to show single quotes for dialogue and double quotes at the start of paragraphs throughout the anecdote on pages and - double quote removed after "monument,'" on page - "asthetical" changed to "æsthetical" on page - "n" changed to "in" on page - double quotes in this paragraph changed to single quotes and double quote added at start of paragraph on page - double quotes in this paragraph changed to single quotes and double quote added at start of paragraph on page - double quotes in this paragraph changed to single quotes and double quote added at start of paragraph on page - comma removed after "said" on page - single quote added after "chair," on page - double quote added before "well" on page - double quote removed before "'all" on page - double quote changed to a single quote before "i" on page - double quote changed to a single quote after "nursery-cry" on page - double quote changed to a single quote before "my" on page - double quote changed to a single quote after "to-night;" on page - period added after "rank" on page - "achievments" changed to "achievements" on page - period added after "sensuality" on page - "heath" changed to "health" on page - single quotes changed to double quotes around this quotation on page - single quote removed before "a" on page - "univeral" changed to "universal" on page - "appearace" changed to "appearance" on page - "never sink" changed to "neversink" on page - quote added after "daughter," on page - quote added after "simpson," on page - "place" changed to "placed" on page - period added after "mrs" on page - "ceremoneous" changed to "ceremonious" on page - "st." changed to "st." on page - ""you are now my enemy, and i am" indented for ease of reading on page - comma removed after "and" on page - "mis" changed to "miss" on page - "sol dier" changed to "soldier" on page - comma removed after "sketching" on page - double quote removed at end of paragraph on page - double quote added before "this" on page - single quote changed to a double quote before "i" on page - comma removed before "us" on page - "th" changed to "the" on page - "strengthed" changed to "strengthened" on page - "un comfortable" changed to "uncomfortable" on page - period added after "fatigue" on page - "and-that" changed to "and that" on page - "wan't" changed to "want" on page - quote removed before "oh" on page - single quote changed to double quote after "them!" on page - "twitter ing" changed to "twittering" on page - "to" added after "happened" on page - period added after "friend" on page - comma changed to a period after "us" on page - "duced" changed to "deuced" on page - "kiss" changed to "miss" on page - quote removed before "as" on page - "pretiest" changed to "prettiest" on page - "acknowleded" changed to "acknowledged" on page - "a" added after "like" on page - single quote changed to a double quote at end of paragraph on page - period added after "lunettes" on page - "dessultory" changed to "desultory" on page - "intelleclectual" changed to "intellectual" on page - period changed to comma after "howard" on page - "educacation" changed to "education" on page - "de voted" changed to "devoted" on page - "stationary" changed to "stationery" on page - "inter posed" changed to "interposed" on page - period added after "months" on page - period added after "be" on page - "stand point" changed to "stand-point" on page - period added after "friends" on page - "glancind" changed to "glancing" on page - period added after "lady" on page - comma changed to a period after "animation" on page - extra space added before and after this paragraph on page - "fitz james" changed to "fitz-james" on page - period removed after "migical" on page - period removed after "benton's" on page - double quote added before "cecilia" on page - double quote removed after "y----" on page transcriber's note: variant spellings remain as printed. minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. non-standard characters have been transcribed as follows: [oe]--oe ligature; [=x]--macron over character _x_. manners and rules of good society manners and rules of good society _or solecisms to be avoided_ by a member of the aristocracy thirty-ninth edition [device] london frederick warne and co. and new york (_all rights reserved_) printed in great britain preface "manners and rules of good society" contains all the information comprised in the original work, "manners and tone of good society," but with considerable additions. in a volume of this nature it is necessary to make constant revisions, and this is periodically done to keep it up to date, that it may be depended upon as being not only the most reliable, but also the _newest book of etiquette_. a comparison of the number of chapters and their subjects with those of the early editions would best demonstrate how the work has grown, not merely in bulk, but in importance also. this extension has allowed many subjects to be more exhaustively treated than heretofore, and it now includes every rule and point that could possibly be comprehended in its title. the work throughout its many editions has commended itself to the attention of thousands of readers, and it is hoped the present edition will be received by society in general with the marked success of its predecessors. contents chapter page introductory remarks ix i. the meaning of etiquette ii. introductions iii. leaving cards iv. paying calls v. precedency vi. the colloquial application of titles vii. points of etiquette as regards royal personages viii. points of etiquette when travelling abroad, and presentations at foreign courts ix. the received mode of pronouncing certain surnames x. presentations at courts and attending courts xi. presentations at levÉes and attending levÉes xii. balls and state balls xiii. dinner giving and dining out xiv. dinner-table etiquette xv. evening parties xvi. weddings and wedding luncheons xvii. wedding receptions xviii. wedding expenses xix. afternoon "at homes" xx. "at home" days xxi. colonial etiquette xxii. indian etiquette xxiii. garden-parties xxiv. town garden-parties xxv. evening garden-parties xxvi. luncheons xxvii. breakfasts xxviii. picnics and water-parties xxix. juvenile parties xxx. written invitations xxxi. refusing invitations xxxii. walking, driving, and riding xxxiii. bowing xxxiv. the cockade xxxv. country-house visits xxxvi. hunting and shooting xxxvii. shaking hands xxxviii. chaperons and dÉbutantes xxxix. presentations at the viceregal court, dublin castle xl. hostesses xli. the responsibilities of lady patronesses of public balls xlii. periods of mourning xliii. engaged xliv. silver weddings xlv. subscription dances xlvi. giving presents xlvii. christening parties index introductory remarks the title of this work sufficiently indicates the nature of its contents. the usages of good society relate not only to good manners and to good breeding, but also to the proper etiquette to be observed on every occasion. not only are certain rules laid down, and minutely explained, but the most comprehensive instructions are given in each chapter respecting every form or phase of the subject under discussion that it may be clearly understood what _is_ done, or what is _not_ done, in good society, and also how what _is_ done in good society should be done. it is precisely this knowledge that gives to men and women the consciousness of feeling thoroughly at ease in whatever sphere they may happen to move, and causes them to be considered well bred by all with whom they may come in contact. a solecism may be perhaps in itself but a trifling matter, but in the eyes of society at large it assumes proportions of a magnified aspect, and reflects most disadvantageously upon the one by whom it is committed; the direct inference being, that to be guilty of a solecism argues the offender to be unused to society, and consequently not on an equal footing with it. this society resents, and is not slow in making its disapproval felt by its demeanour towards the offender. tact and innate refinement, though of the greatest assistance to one unused to society, do not suffice of themselves; and although counting for much, cannot supply the want of the actual knowledge of what is customary in society. where tact and innate refinement do not exist--and this is not seldom the case, as they are gifts bestowed upon the few rather than upon the many--then a thorough acquaintance with the social observances in force in society becomes more than ever necessary, and especially to those who, socially speaking, are desirous of making their way in the world. those individuals who have led secluded or isolated lives, or who have hitherto moved in other spheres than those wherein well-bred people move, will gather all the information necessary from these pages to render them thoroughly conversant with the manners and amenities of society. this work will be found of equal service to both men and women, as in each chapter the points of social etiquette to be observed by both sexes have been fully considered. those having the charge of young ladies previous to their introduction into society, either mothers, chaperons, or governesses, will also derive much useful and practical information from the perusal of this work, while to those thoroughly versed in the usages of society it cannot fail to commend itself, containing as it does many useful and valuable hints on social questions. manners and rules of good society chapter i the meaning of etiquette what is etiquette, and what does the word convey? it is a poor one in itself, and falls very far short of its wide application. it has an old-fashioned ring about it, savouring of stiffness, primness, and punctiliousness, which renders it distasteful to many possessing advanced ideas; and yet the word etiquette is not so very old either, as johnson did not include it in his dictionary, and walker apologises for introducing it into his, and according to the authorities he quotes, it is supposed to be derived from stichos, stichus, stichetus, sticketta, and from thence to etiquette. but whether derived from the latin or the french--and many incline to the latter opinion--there is no doubt that could a new word be found to replace this much abused one, it would be a welcome addition to our vocabulary. the word has unfortunately become associated in our minds with forms, ceremonies, and observances, in an exaggerated degree; and it has been so constantly misused and misinterpreted and misunderstood that ridicule and contempt have been most unjustly and unfairly thrown upon it. the true meaning of etiquette can hardly be described in dictionary parlance; it embraces the whole gamut of good manners, good breeding, and true politeness. one of the reasons which have no doubt contributed to bring the word "etiquette" into disrepute, is the manner in which the subject has been handled by incompetent people, who, having but a very hazy and obscure knowledge, if any knowledge at all, yet profess to write guides to polite manners--rambling and incoherent guides, which not only provoke a smile from those better informed, but mislead and bewilder any one rash enough to consult them, without previous inquiry as to whether they are safe to follow. a little caution on this head would insure the most correct and reliable work being secured amongst so much that is unreliable. some people read everything that is written on the subject of etiquette, not only those who are ignorant and wish to learn something of its laws, but those who are thoroughly well versed in them and who, one might suppose, had nothing to learn; still these latter like to see what is written, to feel the satisfaction of being supported in their own knowledge by a well-informed writer; or of finding amusement in the absurdities gravely advanced by some one writing from another sphere than that where _savoir vivre_ reigns. others attach a very narrow meaning to the word etiquette, and neither accept it nor understand it in its true sense; they have an idea that its rules influence and govern society in general. rules of etiquette are from their point of view but trammels and shackles; let them be cast off or burst through, say they; let every one do as he likes; let all behave as they like; we are in a free country, why should we not wipe our mouths upon the table-cloth if we please? others again, devour books of etiquette on the quiet; they are very much in want of instruction as every one knows, but they have not the courage to confess that they are awake of this want, and are trying to pick up some knowledge of this kind to be useful to them; as their aim is to rise in the social scale, they would not let their friends know for worlds about this new study, but they know it, and find that they have improved, that they do not commit as many _gaucheries_ as heretofore; still, they have caught the letter rather than the spirit of etiquette, they have read the rules it prescribes, and act up to them as far as their memories serve them; but they have failed in one essential particular of understanding that courtesy, consideration towards others, and unselfishness, are the sources of true politeness from which etiquette springs. there is an idea amongst some few people who have mixed little in the world, and moved but in one fixed groove, that the more exalted the sphere, the more perfect the manners. it is needless to attempt to refute such a fallacy as this, for examples of the most perfect manner are to be met with not only amongst those who can boast of long lineage and high birth, but also amongst those who lay claim to neither. our present code of etiquette is constructed upon the refinement, polish, and culture of years, of centuries. wealth and luxury, and contact with all that is beautiful in art and nature, have in all ages exercised a powerful influence on the manners of men; we do not say on the times, as unfortunately these advantages did not reach down to the many but were confined to the strictly few; but in these modern days the many have come, and still come, within the charmed circle; the ring broadens, ever widens; it is not now as in olden days that "their lot forbade." on the contrary, the possession of wealth or of talent is the open sesame to the most refined and cultured circles. the word etiquette is too narrow for all it embraces; it must be viewed in a double light, and be taken from a moral point as well as from a conventional one. a kindly nature, and an unselfish spirit are never wanting in true politeness, but the conventionalities of society give the finish and completeness to the whole, the colour, as it were, to the picture. in some the conventional spirit is uppermost and they have at best but a surface polish. in others the kindly feelings of the heart are allowed full play, and no act of genuine politeness is omitted or left undone in their intercourse with their fellows, and these graces of kindly politeness linger in the memory, trivial though they may have been, years after one has lost sight of this true gentleman or thorough lady, and one says of him, "what a charming man he was, how courteous and considerate, and how kind!" and of her, "she was the sweetest and prettiest-mannered woman i ever met." it is only given to the very few to be thoroughly and unaffectedly charming without a shadow of self-consciousness or effort. to assume a would-be charming manner for the moment, with the desire to be unusually pleasing to some one in particular, does not confer the enviable reputation of having a charming manner. it does not sit easy enough to be altogether natural; it conveys the idea of being put on for the occasion, and, like all other imitations, it hardly ever pleases and seldom deceives. etiquette and true politeness would have us go further than this, and our manners of to-day should be our manners of to-morrow, and not variable according to place and persons. the world is quick to note these uncertain demeanours, and every one's measure is readily taken and retained. the rules of etiquette are indispensable to the smooth working of society at large. take, for example, the etiquette of precedency, in force both in public and in private: on every public occasion, and in every private circle, precedency steps in to render assistance, and is as necessary in the smallest private circle as in the largest public gathering, because it assigns to every one his or her place as far as claim can be laid to place. mistakes in the matter of precedency are not only committed by those who have enjoyed few social advantages, but by those also who have had everything in their favour. young ladies, for instance, when married from the schoolroom, as it were, often make grave mistakes on the question of precedency, if they do not ignore it altogether. the etiquette of card-leaving and that of paying calls are indisputably necessary and only the very ignorant would attempt to gainsay their utility; without these aids to order and method all intercourse between friends and acquaintances would be uncertain and chaotic; as it is there is little excuse when the right thing is not done, and any departure from the simple rules laid down on these heads, is the best possible proof of the standing, position, and associations of the one at fault. any one point of etiquette if brought to the bar of common-sense would be pronounced reasonable, proper, and sensible; and there is strictly speaking no question of etiquette that cannot be thus judged and upon which a like verdict would not be given. there is no one rule of etiquette that can be described as absurd or ridiculous, arbitrary or tyrannical, and taken collectively the rules are but social obligations due from one person to another. why should we not be a well-mannered people? why should we not be refined, cultivated, and polished in our demeanour and bearing? why should we not seek to charm if we can? why should we not cultivate and encourage in ourselves consideration, thoughtfulness, and graciousness towards others in the smallest details of daily life? chapter ii introductions there are ceremonious introductions and unceremonious introductions, premeditated introductions and unpremeditated introductions; but, in all cases, introductions should never be indiscriminately made--that is to say, without a previous knowledge on the part of those making them as to whether the persons thus introduced will be likely to appreciate each other, or the reverse, or unless they have expressed a desire to become acquainted. for instance, a lady should not introduce two of her acquaintances residing in a country town or watering-place, moving in different circles, unless they have each expressed such a desire. =an undesired introduction=, if made, compels the one to whom it is the most unwelcome, to treat the other with marked coldness, or to continue an acquaintance that is distasteful. should the slightest doubt exist as to how an introduction will be received--whether the meditated introduction is a spontaneous desire on the part of a lady or gentleman, or whether one person expressed a wish to make the acquaintance of another person and expressed that wish to a mutual friend--the received rule is to consult the wishes of both persons on the subject before making the introduction. =when a difference of rank= exists between two persons, it would be sufficient to ascertain the wishes of the person of highest rank alone. a person about to make an introduction, should say to the one lady, but not in the hearing of the other, "mrs. a----, may i introduce mrs. b---- to you?" or some such formula, according to the degree of intimacy existing between herself and mrs. a. (see "the art of conversing.") when two ladies are of equal rank, the wishes of the person with whom the person making the introduction is least intimate should be consulted. in the case of one person having expressed a wish to make the acquaintance of another, there remains but the wishes of one person to ascertain. acquiescence having been given, the introduction should be made. in making an introduction, the lady of lowest rank should be introduced to the lady of highest rank; in no case should the lady of highest rank be introduced to the lady of lowest rank. this point of etiquette should always be strictly observed. =a gentleman should always be introduced to a lady=, whatever his rank may be, without reference to her rank, whatever it may be. this rule is invariable, and is based upon the privilege of the sex--"_place aux dames_." it is not usual to ascertain a gentleman's wishes as to whether he will be introduced to a lady or not, although at a ball it is usual to do so when the introduction is made for a special object, viz., that of obtaining a partner for a lady; and as a gentleman may be either unable or unwilling to ask the lady to dance, it is incumbent to ascertain beforehand whether the introduction is desired or not, otherwise the introduction would be of no avail for the purpose, and prove a disappointment to the lady. "would you like to be introduced to miss a----?" or some such polite phrase (see "the art of conversing"), is the sort of formula by which to ascertain a gentleman's wishes as to an introduction in the ball-room; as ball-room introductions are understood to mean an intention on the part of a gentleman to ask a lady to dance or to take her in to supper. in general society, gentlemen are supposed to seek, rather than to avoid the acquaintance of ladies, irrespective of whatever sets in society to which they belong. it is immaterial to a gentleman in which set in society his acquaintances move, and he can be polite to all without offending any in their several circles. with regard to his own sex a gentleman is generally as exclusive as to the acquaintanceships which he forms, as is a lady with regard to the acquaintanceships which she forms. reciprocity of taste is the basis on which acquaintanceships between men are established, subject, in a certain measure, to social position; though this rule is itself subject to wide exceptions. it is the rule for a gentleman to ask a mutual friend, or an acquaintance, for an introduction to a lady, and it is the received rule to do so when a gentleman desires to be introduced to any lady in particular; but gentlemen do not ask to be introduced to each other, unless some special reason exists for so doing--some reason that would commend itself to the person whose acquaintance was desired, as well as to the person making the introduction; otherwise, such a wish would appear to be either puerile or sycophantic, thus the request might meet with a refusal, and the proffered acquaintanceship be declined. =when introductions are made between ladies=, an unmarried lady should be introduced to a married lady, unless the unmarried lady is of a higher rank than the married lady, when the rule is reversed. the correct formula in use when making introductions is "mrs. x----, lady z.," thus mentioning the name of the lady of lowest rank first, as she is the person introduced to the lady of highest rank. "mrs. x----, lady z.," is all that need be said on the occasion by the person making the introduction. when the ladies are of equal rank it is immaterial which name is mentioned first; but there generally exists sufficient difference in the social position of the two ladies to give a slight distinction in favour of the one or of the other, which the person making the introduction should take into consideration. when the introduction has been made, the ladies should bow to each other, and either lady should make a slight remark. it is not usual for ladies on being first introduced to each other to shake hands, but only to bow; but there are very many exceptions to this rule. when one lady is of higher rank than the other, should she offer to shake hands, it would be a compliment and a mark of friendliness on her part. when a person introduces two intimate friends of his or hers to each other, they would be expected to shake hands, instead of bowing only. the relations of an engaged couple should, on being introduced, shake hands with both bride and bridegroom elect, as should the intimate friends of an engaged couple; as also should the relations of the two families on being introduced to each other. it is the privilege of the lady to be the first to offer to shake hands, in every case, when a gentleman is introduced to her. a lady should shake hands with every one introduced to her in her own house--that is to say, whether the person is brought by a mutual friend, or is present by invitation obtained through a mutual friend. =at dinner-parties=, both small and large, the hostess should use her own discretion as to the introductions she thinks proper to make. it is not customary to make general introductions at a dinner-party; but in sending guests down to dinner, who are strangers to each other, the host or hostess should introduce the gentleman to the lady whom he is to take down to dinner. it would be quite unnecessary to ask the lady's permission before doing so. it would be sufficient to make the introduction a few moments before dinner was announced, and the usual formula is, "mrs. a., mr. b. will take you in to dinner." a bow is the recognition of this introduction. when the majority at a dinner-party are strangers to each other, a host or hostess should introduce one or two of the principal guests to each other, when time allows of its being done before dinner is served; such introductions are oftener made at country dinner-parties than at town dinner-parties. a hostess should, in some instances, introduce ladies to each other in the drawing-room after dinner if the opportunity offers, and she considers it advisable to do so. as a rule, a host seldom introduces gentlemen to each other in the dining-room after dinner, as they address each other as a matter of course on such occasions. a hostess should introduce her principal guests to each other, at five-o'clock teas, garden-parties, small "at homes," etc.--that is to say, gentlemen to ladies--for the purpose of their taking the ladies to the tea-room. in this case also, the introduction should be made without previously consulting the lady; and a gentleman, knowing the reason of the introduction, should at once proffer the expected civility. at these gatherings a hostess should use her own discretion as to any general introductions she thinks proper to make, and should introduce any gentleman to any lady without previously consulting the lady if she thinks the introduction will prove agreeable to her. when introducing ladies to each other, she should give married ladies, and ladies of rank, the option of the introduction; but should introduce young unmarried ladies to each other if she thinks proper. =when callers arrive simultaneously=, the hostess should introduce them directly or indirectly to each other, if there is no social reason to the contrary. when a hostess is aware that her visitors do not desire each other's acquaintanceship, or, if she considers that the introduction is not altogether a suitable one, agreeable to both persons, she should not make it, but converse with each visitor in turn, at the same time not allowing the conversation to become too general. at large gatherings, persons desirous of avoiding each other's acquaintanceship, could be present at the house of a mutual acquaintance without coming into direct contact with one another, providing the host and hostess possessed sufficient tact and discretion not to attempt to effect a _rapprochement_ between them. =at country-house parties=, the hostess should introduce the principal ladies to one another on the first day of their arrival; but if it is a large party, introductions should not be generally made, but should be made according to the judgment of the hostess. the fact of persons being guests in the same house constitutes in itself an introduction, and it rests with the guests thus brought together whether the acquaintanceship ripens into subsequent intimacy or not. the same remark applies in a degree to afternoon teas and "at homes." the guests converse with each other if inclined to do so. the act of so conversing would not constitute an acquaintanceship, although it might, under some circumstances, establish a bowing acquaintanceship, especially between gentlemen. ladies should not bow to each other after only exchanging a few remarks at afternoon tea, or at a garden-party, unless there were some particular social link between them to warrant their so doing, in which case the lady of highest rank should take the initiative. =introductions at public balls.=--it is erroneous to suppose that it is the duty of stewards to make introductions at public balls; it is the exception, and not the rule, for stewards to introduce persons to each other who are strangers to themselves. society objects, and the stewards object, to making promiscuous introductions, on the following grounds: first, as regards the chaperon, whether mother or relative, who has the charge of a young lady; then as regards a young lady herself; and last, but not least, as regards the position occupied by the steward himself. a chaperon naturally looks and feels displeased when a steward who is a stranger to herself offers to introduce a man who is evidently a stranger to him, which fact she gathers by his saying, "this gentleman wishes to be introduced to your daughter," or by his asking the stranger his name before making the introduction. a chaperon is responsible for the acquaintances a young lady forms while under her charge at a ball, and if amongst her own friends and acquaintances she cannot find partners for her, she would prefer that she spent a comparatively dull evening than that she should run the risk of forming undesirable acquaintances. young ladies have not always the discretion possessed by their elders, or sufficient knowledge of the world to do the right thing. thus, some young ladies would either coldly decline the introductions, or if the introductions were made, would as coldly decline to dance, whilst others, anxious to dance, would accept both the introductions and the partners, and take their chance as to whether their brothers would like to see them dancing with strangers thus introduced. a steward himself particularly dislikes to be made responsible for a man he does not know; and whether a chaperon and a young lady are old friends of his, or whether they are merely new acquaintances, they equally trust to his not introducing men to them whom they would not care to know, and of whom he knows nothing save that they have solicited an introduction to them. very few stewards care to accost a lady whom they merely know by sight and by name for the purpose of introducing a stranger; they prefer to decline to make the introduction, on the plea of not having the honour of the lady's acquaintance. stewards consider that the position of a young man must be a peculiar one, and his presence at a ball somewhat of an anomaly, if he does not possess an acquaintance in the room, through whom he can become known to one or other of the stewards, or through whom he can be introduced to any particular lady with whom he may desire to dance. when a gentleman is introduced to a young lady at a public ball, it generally means that he is introduced to her as a partner, and that though he may not ask her for the next dance, he will for a subsequent one, or that he will at least offer to take her in to supper, or, if earlier in the evening, to give her some tea, or if she declines these civilities, that he will continue a conversation with her until the next dance commences, or until a dance is over. when a gentleman does neither of these things, but walks away as soon as the introduction is made, it is a proof how little he desired it, and that doubtless the option was not given him of refusing it. good-natured friends of both sexes know how difficult it is to get partners for well-dressed, well-mannered, good-looking girls at a ball, unless they are more than ordinarily attractive in some way or other, in which case they are popular and sought after, and the only difficulty rests with the young ladies themselves as to how they shall best apportion the dances so as to satisfy their numerous partners, or persuade their chaperons to stay for one more dance which they have promised to, etc. it is a well-known fact in the ball-going world that the majority of young men insist upon being introduced to the most popular girls in a ball-room, and refuse being introduced to one who does not appear to have plenty of partners. public balls are in reality made up of a number of small parties and different sets, each set or party being entirely independent of the other. at county balls the county people take large house-parties, and each house-party does or does not mingle with other house-parties, according to standing or inclination. if three large house-parties join forces at a ball they form a very imposing majority; but there are other sets in the same ball-room, dancing to the same band and adjourning to the same supper-room, equally apart and equally distinct. at balls held at watering-places, although the residents do not take large house-parties, yet they join forces with those residents with whom they are acquainted, reinforced by friends who come down purposely to be present at the ball. thus, on the face of it, a steward's introductions cannot fail to be ill-received, in whatever set he may be coerced into making them; and it is well understood that introductions, to prove acceptable, should only be made through friends and acquaintances, and even then with tact and judgment. as the stewards of a ball are usually the most influential gentlemen in the place, it naturally follows that they are acquainted with many, if not with all, of the principal people present, therefore when they make introductions it is not by virtue of their office, but simply as a matter of friendship, and through being personally acquainted with those introduced by them. introductions out of doors are rather a matter of inclination than not, as, for instance, when a lady is walking with another lady to whom she is on a visit she should introduce any friends to her hostess she might happen to meet, and her hostess should do likewise if time and opportunity offer for so doing; should any reason exist for not making an introduction on the part of either lady, it should be explained when they are again alone, as were either of the ladies to exclude the other from the conversation it would be considered discourteous towards the one excluded. when two ladies accidentally meet when out walking, and are subsequently joined by two or more ladies, introductions should not be made by either of the ladies, unless some special reason exists for so doing. a lady, as a rule, should not introduce gentlemen to each other unless one of them is her host, when it would be correct to do so. =how to act on the occasion of an introduction= is determined almost entirely upon the reason for its being made, and by whom and to whom the person is introduced. even the _locale_ has something to do with it, and thus a variety of issues are raised, upon which an instantaneous judgment has to be given. the mind has to travel with lightning rapidity over the ground to arrive at a correct course of action; but the mind does not always respond to the call made upon it: it hesitates, and acts not upon the outcome of reflection, but upon the spur of the moment. =the received rule is not to shake hands=, but merely to bow on being introduced; but this rule under certain circumstances would not meet the case; it would disappoint the one introducing and the one introduced. for instance if a relative of the former is the person introduced a bow would be a very chilling response to the introduction made; to shake hands, on the contrary, would be the correct thing to do, and both persons should offer at the same moment this cordial recognition. on the other hand, if a casual introduction is made without any premeditation, and those introduced are totally unknown to each other, an exchange of bows is all that is required of them. =amongst the exceptions for not merely bowing= on being introduced are the introductions made between young ladies and elderly ones, and between young ladies themselves. an elderly lady, as a general rule, shakes hands with a girl introduced to her with the idea of being cordial and kind, not to say condescending, and girls generally shake hands with each other in place of bowing, as acquaintanceships formed by them have not the importance that attaches to those of older ladies; besides, a greater readiness to make friends is the privilege and characteristic of youth. =men take very much the same view= as regards introductions as do women--that is to say, if an introduction is made by a relative of the man introduced, the men would shake hands and not merely bow. this holds equally good where intimate friends are concerned: they almost rank on the footing of relations, and a cordial reception is given to an introduction thus made. when casual introductions are made of necessity rather than of intention men do not shake hands. when "i think you have met a." or "i think you know mr. a." is said--the one by a host and the other by a hostess--nothing further is required from either than a bow and a smile of acquiescence accepting the introduction and a disclaimer is not expected if "mr. a." is not actually known. the uncertainty is an excuse for making the introduction. =ladies do not rise from their seats on being introduced either at an "at home"= or before dinner is announced, or after dinner, or when calling when people are introduced to them, or when they themselves are introduced. half an exception occurs, it is true, at crowded "at homes," when to rise and talk to the lady introduced is almost a necessity: there is no vacant seat for her to take, and, therefore, if both do not stand, conversation is at a deadlock, as the few first conventional remarks made by either are lost in the general buzz going on around; also, it is awkward and ungraceful for a lady to bend over one seated for the purpose of saying a few platitudes. "introductory remarks," or remarks following upon introductions, have too often a melancholy ring of commonplaceness about them and are distinctly trite. how can they be otherwise? to venture out of the commonplace into originality would be suspicious of eccentricity, and no one wishes to be considered a little odd. =before and after dinner, when introductions are made= between ladies it is to those seated near to each other, and, therefore, there would be no occasion to rise, as there might be at an "at home." there is no question of a lady rising from her seat when a man is introduced to her, unless that man is her host, when she should rise and shake hands with him, or a clerical dignity--a bishop for instance, if opportunity allows of it, and on a semi-official occasion. this question does not trouble men, as they are usually found standing, or they are brought up to a person to be introduced, and even if a man ventures upon sitting down at an "at home," or before dinner is announced, he springs to his feet with alacrity when any approach is made in the matter of introducing him to a fellow guest. =introductions often have to be made at afternoon calls=, supposing that two or three callers only are present and the hostess feels that she must render the talk general by making some kind of introduction, direct or indirect, as she thinks best. the ladies thus introduced remain seated and bow. they do not shake hands even under the exceptional conditions previously referred to, but they would at once join in the talk that passes for conversation, and on departure would shake hands with the relative in question after having shaken hands with the hostess and having expressed pleasure at meeting this near relative--mother or sister, or whoever she may happen to be. =introductions between callers= made under enforced circumstances have not much bearing on future acquaintance. those introduced pass so short a time in each other's company, and know practically nothing of each other's surroundings, that they are uncertain whether at future meetings they ought to recollect that such introductions have taken place, and whether they should bow or forget. actually it would be correct to bow if the opportunity is given so to do, but unless the wish to bestow recognition is mutual it is of little avail if grudgingly given, and it would be worse still were it withheld. some people have short memories for faces, and others are short-sighted, and both these drawbacks have to be reckoned with when expecting recognition from a person to whom one has been thus introduced. chapter iii leaving cards the etiquette of card-leaving is a privilege which society places in the hands of ladies to govern and determine their acquaintanceships and intimacies, to regulate and decide whom they will, and whom they will not visit, whom they will admit into their friendship, and whom they will keep on the most distant footing, whose acquaintance they wish further to cultivate and whose to discontinue. it would seem that the act of leaving cards is but imperfectly understood, and that many erroneous impressions prevail respecting the actual use of visiting cards. the object of leaving cards is to signify that a call has been made, due civility shown, and a like civility expected in return. leaving cards, or card-leaving, is one of the most important of social observances, as it is the ground-work or nucleus in general society of all acquaintanceships. leaving cards, according to etiquette, is the first step towards forming, or towards enlarging, a circle of acquaintances, and the non-fulfilment of the prescribed rules is a sure step in the opposite direction. the following is the received code of card-leaving in all its details according to the etiquette observed in good society by both ladies and gentlemen, and should be faithfully followed. =a lady's visiting card= should be printed in small, clear copper-plate script, and free from any kind of embellishment as regards ornamental or old english letters. it should not be a thin card, and should be three inches and five eighths in width, and slightly under two and a half in depth. the name of the lady should be printed in the centre of the card, and her address in the left-hand corner. if she has a second address, it should be printed in the opposite corner of the card. if the second address is but a temporary one, it is usually written and not printed. a married lady should never use her christian name on a card, but she should use her husband's christian name before her surname if his father or elder brother is living. it is now considered old-fashioned for husbands and wives to have their names printed on the same card, although at watering-places, the practice of having the two names on the same card, "mr. and mrs. dash," is still occasionally followed; but even when these cards are used, a lady and gentleman still require separate cards of their own. a lady having a large acquaintance should keep a visiting book, in which to enter the names of her acquaintances, and the date when their cards were left upon her, with the dates of her return cards left upon them, that she might know whether a card were due to her from them, or whether it were due to them from her. a lady having a small acquaintance would find a memorandum book sufficient for the purpose; a line should be drawn down the centre of every page, dividing it into two columns, the one column for the names, and the opposite column for the dates of the calls made and returned. leaving cards principally devolves upon the mistress of a house; a wife should leave cards for her husband, as well as for herself; and a daughter for her father. the master of a house has little or no card-leaving to do, beyond leaving cards upon his bachelor friends. in the country it is otherwise, and those who return home are called upon by their friends and acquaintances in the first instance, unless under exceptional circumstances. ladies arriving in town should leave cards on their acquaintances and friends to intimate that they have returned. visiting cards should be left in person, and should not be sent by post, although in town, when the distance is considerable, it is tacitly allowed; but, as a rule, ladies invariably leave their cards themselves. on arriving in town for the season ladies having a large acquaintance often send their visiting cards to their various friends and acquaintances by a man-servant or through a stationer. =the routine of card-leaving.=--as regards the routine of card-leaving. when driving, a lady should desire her footman to inquire if the mistress of the house at which she is calling is "at home." if not "at home," and it is a first call, she should hand him _three_ cards--_one_ of her own, and _two_ of her husband's. her card is left for the mistress of the house, and her husband's cards for both master and mistress. if not a first call a lady should leave one only of her husband's cards if his acquaintance with her friend's husband is an intimate one and they are in the habit of meeting frequently. if, on the contrary, they know each other but slightly, and meet but seldom, then two of his cards should be left. this, however, not on every occasion of calling. when a lady is merely leaving cards, she should hand the three cards to her servant, saying, "for mrs. ----." this ensures the cards being left at the right address, and is the correct formula for the occasion. when a lady is walking, and finds the mistress of the house at which she calls is "not at home," she should act as above. when a lady intends making a call she should ask if "mrs. ---- is at home?" and if the answer is in the affirmative, she should, after making the call, leave _two_ of her husband's cards on the hall table, and neither put them in the card-basket nor leave them on the drawing-room table, nor offer them to her hostess, all of which would be very incorrect; but she might on reaching the hall hand them to the man-servant silently, or she might send them in by her own servant when seated in her carriage, saying, "for mr. and mrs. smith." she should not leave her _own_ card on the hall table, as, having seen the lady of the house, the reason for doing so no longer exists.[ ] when a lady calling is accompanied by her husband and the mistress of the house is at home, the husband should leave one of his cards only, for the absent master of the house; when the master of the house is at home also, a card in that case should not be left. when the mistress of a house has a grown-up daughter or daughters, the lady leaving cards should turn down one corner of her visiting card--the right-hand corner generally--to include the daughter or daughters in the call. this custom of turning down a corner of a visiting card signifies that other ladies of the family besides the hostess are included in the call. a foreigner turns down the _end_ of a card instead of one corner only, which has not the same signification. it is to denote that he has left it in person. a lady should not leave one of her husband's cards for the daughters of the house, but she not unfrequently leaves his card for the grown-up sons of the house. when a lady intends leaving cards on a friend who is the guest of some one with whom she is unacquainted, she should only leave cards for her friend and not for her friend's hostess; but if she is slightly acquainted with her friend's hostess, she should leave cards upon her on the occasion of her first visit to her friend, but it would not be necessary to do so at every subsequent visit, especially if they were of frequent occurrence. young ladies should not have visiting cards of their own; their names should be printed beneath that of their mother on her card. in the case of there being no mother living, the daughter's name should be printed beneath that of her father on the usual lady's visiting card, but never on the smaller cards used by gentlemen. when young ladies are taken out into society by relatives or friends, their names should be written in pencil under the names of the ladies chaperoning them on their visiting cards. maiden ladies of a certain age should have visiting cards of their own, but until a young lady has attained what is termed a certain age, it argues no little independence of action to have a card of her own; but when she no longer requires chaperonage, she is entitled to a card of her own, being clearly her own mistress, and able to choose her own acquaintances. when a young lady is on a visit unaccompanied by her parents, and wishes to call on ladies with whom the lady she is staying with is unacquainted, she should leave her mother's card on which her own name is also printed, and should draw a pencil through her mother's name to intimate that she was not with her on that occasion. cards should always be returned within a week if possible, or ten days at latest, after they have been left, but to do so within a week is more courteous. and care must be taken to return the "call" or "cards" according to the etiquette observed by the person making the call or leaving the card; that is to say, that a "call" must _not_ be returned by a card only, or a "card" by a "call." this is a point ladies should be very punctilious about. should a lady of higher rank return a card by a "call," asking if the mistress of the house were "at home," her so doing would be in strict etiquette; and should she return a "call" by a card only, it should be understood that she wished the acquaintance to be of the slightest; and should a lady call upon an acquaintance of higher rank than herself, who had only left a card upon her, her doing so would be a breach of etiquette. in large establishments the hall porter enters the names of all callers in a book expressly kept for the purpose, while some ladies merely desire their servant to sort the cards left for them. the name of the lady or gentleman for whom the cards are intended should never be written on the cards left at a house. the only case in which it should be done would be when cards are left on a lady or a gentleman staying at a crowded hotel, when, to save confusion, and to ensure their receiving them, their names should be written on them thus: "for mr. and mrs. smith." but this would be quite an exceptional case, otherwise to do so would be extremely vulgar. =leaving cards after entertainments.=--visiting cards should be left after the following entertainments: balls, receptions, private theatricals, amateur concerts, and dinners, by those who have been invited, whether the invitations have been accepted or not, and should be left the day after the entertainment if possible, and certainly within the week according to the rules of card-leaving already described. on these occasions cards should be left without inquiry as to whether the hostess is at home, although after a dinner-party it is the rule to ask if she is at home, as to dine at a house denotes a greater intimacy than being present at a large gathering. if the hostess were not at home, cards should be left. if a lady has been but once present at any entertainment, whether the invitation came through a mutual friend or direct from the hostess herself, the hostess being but a slight acquaintance of her own, besides leaving cards on her the day following, she can, if she desires, leave cards on her the following season, or, if residing in the same town, within a reasonable time of the entertainment; but if these cards are not acknowledged by cards being left in return, she should of course understand that the acquaintance is to proceed no further. a lady should not leave cards on another lady to whom she has but recently been introduced at a dinner-party or afternoon tea; for instance, she must meet her several times in society, and feel sure that her acquaintance is desired, before venturing to leave cards. if two ladies are of equal rank, tact will be their best guide as to the advisability of leaving cards or not upon each other; the lady of superior rank may take the initiative if she pleases. if either of the ladies express a wish to further the acquaintance by asking the other to call upon her, the suggestion should come from the lady of highest rank; if of equal rank it is immaterial as to which first makes the suggestion. but in either case the call should be paid within the week. =leaving cards upon new-comers.=--in the country the residents should be the first to leave cards on the new-comers, after ascertaining the position which the new-comers occupy in society. persons moving in the same sphere should either leave cards or call according as they intend to be ceremonious or friendly, and the return visits should be paid in like manner, a card for a card, a call for a call. it is the received rule that residents should call on new-comers, although having no previous acquaintance with them, or introductions to them. new-comers, even if of higher rank, should not call on residents in the first instance, but should wait until the residents have taken the initiative. if residents do not wish to continue the acquaintance after the first meeting, it is discontinued by not leaving cards, or by not calling again, and if the new-comers feel disinclined to continue the acquaintance they should return the calls by leaving cards only. calling on new-comers in the country should not be done indiscriminately, and due consideration should be paid to individual status in society. the lady of highest social position in the circle to which the new-comers belong generally takes the responsibility of calling first on the new-comers. by new-comers is expressed persons who intend to reside in a county or town for a long, or even for a short period, and who are not casual visitors in the place. the custom of residents calling on new-comers is entirely confined to county society, and does not apply to residents in large towns and populous watering-places. in old cathedral cities and quiet country towns, far from the metropolis, on the contrary, the rule holds good of residents calling on new-comers. =cards "to inquire."=--cards to inquire after friends during their illness should be left in person, and should not be sent by post; but they may be sent by a servant. on a lady's visiting card should be written above the printed name: "to inquire after mrs. smith." when the person inquired after is sufficiently recovered to return thanks in person, the usual visiting card, with "many thanks for kind inquiries," written above the printed name, is the usual mode of returning thanks, and is all-sufficient for the purpose. =p.p.c. cards.=--formerly p.p.c. cards were left within a week of departure, or within ten days if the acquaintance was a large one. the letters p.p.c. for _pour prendre congé_, written at the lower corner of visiting cards, indicate departure from town or from a neighbourhood. p.p.c. cards may be left in person or sent by a servant; they can also be sent by post. the object of leaving p.p.c. cards is to avoid leave-takings and correspondence concerning departure, and to prevent offence being given if letters and invitations remained unanswered. in the country an absence of from three to six months renders leaving p.p.c. cards somewhat necessary; under that period it would be unnecessary to give notice of a temporary absence which does not amount to an actual departure. short absences render it unnecessary to leave p.p.c. cards. holiday movements at christmas, easter, and whitsuntide are thoroughly recognised, and no leave-taking is obligatory. p.p.c. cards are now seldom if ever left in town. =business calls.=--when a lady makes a strictly business call upon either a lady or gentleman she should give her card to the servant to be taken to his master or mistress, but on no other occasion should she do so. =gentlemen's visiting cards.=--a gentleman's card should be thin--thick cards are not in good taste--and not glazed, and of the usual narrow width, _i.e._ one and a half inches in depth, and three inches in width; his name should be printed in the centre, thus: "mr. smith" or "mr. francis smith," should he require the addition of his christian name to distinguish him from his father or elder brother. to have "francis smith" printed on the card without the prefix of "mr." would be in bad taste. initials appertaining to honorary rank should never be written or printed on a card, such as d.l., k.c., m.p., k.c.b., m.d., etc. military or professional titles necessarily precede the surname of the person bearing them, and are always used, such as "colonel smith," "captain smith," "rev. h. smith," "dr. smith," etc. as regards titles, "the honourable" is the only title that is not used on a visiting card. thus "the honourable henry smith's" card should bear the words "mr. henry smith" only. a baronet's card should be printed thus, "sir george smith," and a knight's card thus, "sir charles smith." a gentleman's address should be printed in the left hand corner of the card. if a member of a club, it is usual to print the name of the club at the right hand. officers usually have the name of the club printed at the left hand corner in the place of the address, and the regiment to which they belong at the right hand. cards should be printed in small copper-plate script, without ornamentation of any kind. old english letters look old-fashioned on a card, and are but little used; and ornamental capital letters are never used, and are out of date. the lettering should be as plain and as free from any sort of embellishment as it well can be. =the routine of card-leaving for gentlemen.=--to bachelors card-leaving is an irksome routine of etiquette, and is, therefore, in a measure often neglected, by reason of their having little or no leisure at command during the afternoon hours. this is now thoroughly understood and accepted in general society. when, however, a bachelor has his way to make in society and has leisure to further the acquaintanceships he has already made, he should follow the rules of card-leaving. bachelors, as a rule, are expected to leave cards on the master and mistress of a house with whom they are acquainted as soon as they are aware that the family have arrived in town; or if a bachelor himself has been away, he should leave cards on his acquaintances immediately after his return. he should leave one card for the mistress of the house and one for its master. a gentleman should not turn down a corner of his card, even though he may be acquainted with other ladies of the family besides the mistress of the house. a gentleman should not leave a card for the young daughters of the house, or for any young relative of its mistress who might be staying with her; but if a married couple with whom he is acquainted were staying with the friends on whom he is calling, he should leave two cards for them, one for the wife and one for the husband, and should tell the servant for whom they are intended. as regards leaving cards upon new acquaintances, a gentleman should not leave his card upon a married lady, or the mistress of a house, to whom he has been introduced, however gracious or agreeable she has been to him, unless she expressly asks him to call, or gives him to understand in an unmistakable manner that his doing so would be agreeable to her. this rule holds good, whether the introduction has taken place at a dinner-party, at a ball, at an "at home," at a country-house gathering, or elsewhere; he would not be entitled to leave his card on her on such slight acquaintanceship; as, if she desired his further acquaintance, she would make some polite allusion to his calling at her house, in which case he should leave his card on her as soon afterwards as convenient, and he should also leave a card for the master of the house, the lady's husband or father (as the case may be), even if he had not made his acquaintance when making that of the lady. a gentleman should not leave a card on a young lady to whom he has been introduced, but upon her mother or the relative with whom she is residing. when the acquaintance existing between gentlemen is but slight, they should occasionally leave cards upon each other, especially when they do not move in the same circle, and are not otherwise likely to meet; it generally follows that the one who most desires the acquaintanceship is the one to leave his card first, always supposing that the strength of the acquaintance would warrant his so doing. the one of highest rank should be the one to intimate that he desires the acquaintance of the other; if the rank be equal, it is a matter of inclination which calls first. the rules of etiquette, though stringent as regards acquaintances, have little or no application as regards intimate friends; friendship overrules etiquette. when a bachelor has a number of intimate friends, very little card-leaving is required from him as far as they are concerned. =leaving cards after entertainments.=--in the event of a gentleman receiving an invitation to an entertainment from an acquaintance, or from a new acquaintance, or through some mutual friend, he should leave his cards at the house within a week or ten days after the entertainment, one for the mistress and one for the master of the house, whether he has accepted the invitation or not. between friends this rule is greatly relaxed. it is usual for a gentleman to leave his cards on the host or on the hostess, after every entertainment to which he has been invited by them, whether it be a dinner-party, or ball, or "at home," etc. whether he has been present or not, the fact of his having been invited by them obliges him to pay them this civility, although great latitude as regards time is now accorded in general society with regard to this particular rule. if invited by a new acquaintance, the cards should be left a few days after the entertainment, but if by a less recent acquaintance they should be left within ten days or a fortnight, but the earlier the cards are left the greater the politeness shown. if a bachelor acquaintance gives an entertainment, the same rule applies as to the necessity of cards being left on him by those gentlemen but slightly acquainted with him who have been invited to the entertainment. when a gentleman has been invited to an entertainment given at the house of a new acquaintance, whether the acquaintance be a lady or a gentleman, it would be etiquette for him to leave his card upon them on their arrival in town or elsewhere, even though they may not have invited him to any subsequent entertainment given by them within the year. if during the following year they do not again invite him, he might consider the acquaintance at an end and cease to call. these complimentary calls made, or rather cards left, should not average more than four during the year. =memorial cards= are out of date in society, and consequently should not be sent to either relatives or friends. a widow should not make use of her christian name on her visiting cards to distinguish her from other members of her late husband's family. her cards should be printed as during his lifetime. footnotes: [ ] it is, however, permissible on the occasion of a _first_ call to say, "i shall leave my card in the hall to remind you of my address"; or some such phrase. chapter iv paying calls ladies stand upon strict and ceremonious etiquette with each other as regards both paying and receiving calls. ignorance or neglect of the rules which regulate paying calls, brings many inconveniences in its train; for instance, when a lady neglects to pay a call due to an acquaintance, she runs the risk of herself and daughters being excluded from entertainments given by the said acquaintance. when a call has not been made within a reasonable time, a coldness is apt to arise between ladies but slightly acquainted with each other. some ladies take this omission good-naturedly or indifferently, while with others the acquaintance merges into a mere bowing acquaintance to be subsequently dropped altogether. the first principle of calling is, that those who are the first to arrive in town should be the _first_ to call upon their acquaintances to intimate their return. "morning calls," so designated on account of their being made before dinner, are, more strictly speaking, "afternoon calls," as they should only be made between the hours of three and six o'clock. calls made in the morning--that is before one o'clock--would not come under the denomination of "morning calls," as they can only be made by intimate friends and not by acquaintances, and are not, therefore, amenable to the rules of etiquette which govern the afternoon calls, which calls are regulated in a great measure--as to the hour of calling--by the exact degree of intimacy existing between the person who calls and the person called upon. from three to four o'clock is the ceremonious hour for calling; from four to five o'clock is the semi-ceremonious hour; and from five to six o'clock is the wholly friendly and without ceremony hour. if a lady is driving when she calls at the house of an acquaintance, she should say to her servant, "ask if mrs. a---- is at home." when a lady is walking, she should ask the same question herself. when the answer is in the negative, she should leave one of her own cards and one of her husband's, and should say to the servant, "for mr. and mrs. a----." when the answer is in the affirmative, the lady should enter the house without further remark and follow the servant to the drawing-room. the servant should go before the visitor, to lead the way to the drawing-room, and, however accustomed a visitor may be to a house, it is still the proper etiquette for the servant to lead the way, and announce him or her to his mistress; and this rule should not be dispensed with, except in the case of very near relations or very intimate friends. at the drawing-room door the servant waits for a moment until the visitor has reached the landing, when the visitor should give his or her name to the servant, "mr. a----" or "mrs. a----," should the servant be unacquainted with it. if the visitor calling bears the title of "honourable" it should not be mentioned by him or her to the servant when giving the name, neither should it be mentioned by the servant when announcing the visitor. all titles are given in full by the servants of those who bear them, thus: "the duke and duchess of a----," "the marquis and marchioness of b----," "the earl and countess of c----," "viscount and viscountess d----," "lord and lady e----," etc.; but a marchioness, a countess, or a viscountess when giving her name to be announced at a morning call would style herself "lady a----" only. a gentleman or lady should never give his or her visiting card to the servant when the mistress of the house is at home. a servant should not knock at the drawing-room door when announcing visitors. the servant, on opening the drawing-room door, should stand inside the doorway, he should not stand behind the door, but well into the room; facing the mistress of the house if possible, and should say, "mr. a----," or "mrs. a----." when the mistress of the house is not in the drawing-room when a visitor arrives, the visitor should seat herself and rise at her entrance. visitors should not make any inquiries of the servant as to how long his mistress will be, or where she is, or what she is doing, etc. visitors are not expected to converse with the servants of their acquaintances, and should not enter into conversation with them. formerly a gentleman when calling, took his hat and stick in his hand with him into the drawing-room, and held them until he had seen the mistress of the house and shaken hands with her. he either placed them on a chair or table near at hand or held them in his hand, according as to whether he felt at ease or the reverse, until he took his leave. many middle-aged and elderly men still follow this fashion in a degree, and take their hats and sticks into the drawing-room when making formal calls. the newer fashion amongst younger men is to leave their hats and sticks in the hall and not to take them into the drawing-room with them when calling. to do this is now very general, as hats are in the way if tea is going on; besides, men were apt to forget where they placed their hats, and frequently had to return to the drawing-room in search of them. at "at homes," small afternoon teas, luncheons, dinners, etc., the rule is the same, and hats are left in the hall by invited guests. a gentleman should not take his stick or umbrella with him into the drawing-room, but leave it in the hall. when gentlemen wear gloves, they can take them off or keep them on as they please, it is immaterial which they do, but when a call is made when tea is going on, it is more usual to take them off. when the mistress of the house is in the drawing-room when a visitor is announced--and she should so arrange her occupations as always to be found there on the afternoons when she intends being "at home" should visitors call--she should rise, come forward, and shake hands with her visitor. she should not ask her visitor to be seated, or to "take a seat," but she might say, "where will you sit?" or, "will you sit here?" or something to this effect; and should at once sit down and expect her visitor to do the same, as near to herself as possible. both hostess and visitor should guard against displaying a fussy demeanour during a morning call, as a morning call is oftener than not a _tête-à-tête_, and a _tête-à-tête_ between two persons but slightly acquainted with each other requires a considerable amount of tact and _savoir vivre_ to be sustained with ease and self-possession. a fussy woman is without repose, without dignity, and without _savoir vivre_. a hostess betrays that she is not much accustomed to society when she attempts to amuse her visitor by the production of albums, photographs, books, illustrated newspapers, portfolios of drawings, the artistic efforts of the members of the family, and the like; conversation being all that is necessary, without having recourse to pictorial displays. if not intimate enough to refer to family matters, the conversation should turn on light topics of the hour.[ ] people unused to society are apt to fall back upon the above adventitious aids. a hostess should rely solely upon her own powers of conversation to make the short quarter of an hour--which is the limit of a ceremonious call--pass pleasantly to her visitor. the hostess should not offer her visitor any refreshments, wine and cake, for instance. no refreshments whatever, save tea, should be offered to morning visitors; they are not supposed to require them. in the country it is customary to offer sherry to gentlemen callers, and to order tea for the ladies, even though the call is made rather early in the afternoon, and a little before the hour for having tea. ceremonious visits are usually paid before the hour of half-past four; but if tea is brought in while the visitor is in the drawing-room, or if the visitor calls while the hostess is having tea, she should naturally offer her visitor tea. when the mistress of the house only expects a few callers, "tea" is placed on a small table--a silver tray being generally used for the purpose. the hostess should pour out the tea herself; when a gentleman is present, he should hand the cups to the visitors or visitor, otherwise the hostess should herself do so, and then hand the sugar and cream, without asking whether her visitors will have either, unless she is preparing the cups of tea herself, in which case she should ask the question. when a second visitor arrives, ten or fifteen minutes after the first visitor, the first visitor should take her leave as soon as she conveniently can. when the second visitor is a lady, the hostess should rise and shake hands with her, and then seat herself; the first visitor, if a lady, should not rise; if a gentleman, he should do so. a hostess should also rise and come forward when a gentleman is announced; this gives her an opportunity of talking to him for a few moments on his first entering the room. the second visitor should at once seat him or herself near to the hostess. she should introduce the callers to each other unless she has some especial reason for not doing so. she could, however, in the course of conversation merely mention the name of each caller, so that each may become aware of the name of the other. this is now often done when formal introductions are not made. if the hostess possesses tact, and a facility and readiness of speech, she should skilfully draw both callers into the conversation (a subject which is fully enlarged upon in "the art of conversing"). the hostess should not take this latter course unless aware that the two visitors would be likely to appreciate each other. when one visitor arrives immediately after the other, the hostess should converse equally with both visitors, and the lady who was the first to arrive should be the first to leave, after a call of from ten to fifteen minutes. when only one visitor is present the hostess should accompany her to the door of the drawing-room, and linger for a few moments, whilst the visitor is descending the stairs. to do so would not be imperative, but it would be courteous. when the host is present he should accompany the lady downstairs into the hall; this also is an optional civility, and greatly depends upon the estimation in which the lady is held by host and hostess. when two visitors are present the hostess should rise and shake hands with the departing visitor; but unless a person of greater consideration than the visitor who still remained seated, she should not accompany her to the drawing-room door. one visitor should not rise from her seat when another is about to take her leave. when visitors are acquainted with each other they should rise and shake hands. when one of the visitors is a gentleman he should rise, even if unacquainted with the lady who is about to take her leave; he should not remain seated when the hostess is standing. when two visitors, either two ladies or two gentlemen, have slightly conversed with each other during a morning call, they should not shake hands with each other on leaving, but should merely bow. when they have not spoken to each other, they should not bow. when they have been formally introduced they should still only bow, unless the acquaintance has progressed into sudden intimacy through previous knowledge of each other. when one of the visitors present is a gentleman he should open the drawing-room door for the departing visitor, but he should not accompany her downstairs unless requested by the hostess to do so; the visitor should bow to him and thank him, but not shake hands with him. when the hostess has shaken hands with a guest, and before crossing the room with her, she should ring the drawing-room bell, that the servant may be in readiness in the hall to open the door. she should ring the bell even if the host were accompanying the lady downstairs. it would be thoughtless on the part of the hostess to forget to ring the bell to give notice to the servant that a visitor was leaving. in the country, the caller before rising to depart sometimes asks if she may ring for her motor-car to come round. when the hostess is in reach of the bell, she should ring it for her; when a gentleman is present, he should do so. on the servant's entrance, the caller should say, "my motor-car, please!" when a lady is calling on a friend, the guest of some one with whom she herself is unacquainted, or even but slightly acquainted, she should in both cases ask if her friend is at home, and not if the mistress of the house is at home; and having paid her visit, on leaving the house she should leave cards for its mistress if she is slightly acquainted with her, but should not do so if she is unacquainted with her. when a lady has a guest staying on a visit to her, if convenient, she should, when her guest expected visitors, absent herself from the drawing-room at that particular time, unless the expected visitors are mutual friends of herself and guest. if she is in the drawing-room with her guests when a visitor is announced so as to render an introduction inevitable, a formal introduction should be made, but the mistress of the house, after a very few minutes, should make some excuse, quietly leave the room, and not return until after the departure of the visitor. it would be inconsiderate were the mistress of the house to remain in the drawing-room while calls were paid to her guest by strangers to herself unless at her guest's particular request. when a visitor is a gentleman, and the guest a young unmarried lady, the mistress of the house should remain in the drawing-room to chaperon her. when the mistress of the house is desirous of making the acquaintance of any particular friend of her guest, from whom she expected a visit, when the visit occurs and previous to the visitor taking her leave, the guest should ask if she will allow her to introduce her to the lady with whom she is staying. if her visitor desires the introduction, she should then ring and request the servant to tell his mistress that mrs. a. is in the drawing-room, which message the hostess would understand to mean that her presence is desired, and the introduction would then be made on her appearing. an introduction, if made in this manner, could become the basis of a future acquaintance, both ladies having had the option of refusing the acquaintance of the other if so disposed; whereas a forced introduction where no option is given would hardly count as the basis of a future acquaintance unless the ladies thus introduced mutually appreciated each other. in the country a guest seldom has friends and acquaintances in the neighbourhood, who are unknown to her hostess; if otherwise, the hostess should give her guest the opportunity of seeing her visitor by leaving them together when the call is made. when a guest is present when the mistress of a house is receiving callers, she should introduce them to her guest or her guest to them, according to the rank of either (see chapter ii.). when a lady is driving with a friend who is a stranger to the acquaintance on whom she is calling, she should not take her into the house with her while she makes her call, unless she is a young lady, or unless there is some especial reason for introducing the two ladies to each other, or unless both ladies have expressed a wish to become acquainted with each other. husbands and wives occasionally pay calls together, but oftener they do not. a lady, as a rule, pays a call by herself, unless she has a grown-up daughter, when she should accompany her mother. occasionally two ladies, both intimate with the lady of the house, pay their calls together. a family party, of father and mother and daughter, or daughters, rarely call in town together, save under very exceptional circumstances; but in the country a family party of three or four would, as a matter of course, call together; it is country etiquette to do so. a considerable difference exists with regard to "sunday calls," or calling on sundays. ladies should not pay ceremonious calls on sundays; it would not be etiquette for an acquaintance to call on a sunday, it would rather be considered a liberty, unless she were expressly asked to do so. intimate friends, on the contrary, often make sunday a special day for calling, and therefore, ladies and gentlemen--more especially gentlemen--extend their calling hours from three until six o'clock on sundays. when a lady is acquainted with the daughters of a family only, and not with their father or mother, she should call on the daughters, who should at once introduce her to their mother on the next occasion of calling. if the mother is not present, the lady calling should leave cards for her; and at all morning calls, when the daughters of the house receive a ceremonious visit from an acquaintance, in the absence of their mother, whether from indisposition or any other cause, cards should be left for her in the hall before leaving by the lady calling (see chapter iii.). in all cases, when "morning calls" are made, and the lady called on is not at home, cards should be left according to the etiquette described in chapter ii., an etiquette which should be strictly observed; when the lady called on is "at home," cards should be left for the gentlemen of the family, according to the same rules of card-leaving, which cannot be too punctiliously followed. a mistress of a house should inform her servant after or before luncheon, or before the hours for calling, whether she intends to be "at home" to visitors or not during the afternoon. "not at home" is the understood formula expressive of not wishing to see visitors. "not at home" is not intended to imply an untruth, but rather to signify that for some reason, or reasons, it is not desirable to see visitors; and as it would be impossible to explain to acquaintances the why and the wherefore of its being inconvenient to receive visitors, the formula of "not at home" is all-sufficient explanation, provided always that a servant is able to give a direct answer at once of "not at home" when the query is put to him. if a servant is not sure as to whether his mistress wishes to see visitors or not, it is almost a direct offence to the lady calling if he hesitates as to his answer, and leaves her either sitting in her carriage or standing in the hall, while "he will see if his mistress is 'at home,'" perhaps returning with the unsatisfactory answer that she is "not at home"; in which case the intimation is almost received as a personal exclusion rather than as a general exclusion of visitors. if a lady is dressing to go out when a visitor calls, the servant can mention that fact to a visitor calling, and offer to ascertain if his mistress will see the caller; and the caller should use her own discretion as to whether she will allow him to do so or not; but unless the visit is one of importance, it would be best in such a case only to leave cards. when a second visitor calls, a servant should not be permitted to say that his mistress is "engaged with a lady," or "with a gentleman," but should usher the second caller into the drawing-room, as he has previously done the first caller. he should not inquire as to whether his mistress will see the second caller or not. neither should he inform the second caller as to whether any one is or is not with his mistress, as ignorant servants are too apt to do. it is not usual to offer coffee at afternoon tea; tea only is given. to offer coffee is a foreign fashion, and not an english one. "morning" callers should not be conducted to the dining-room to have tea; and tea is only served in the dining-room on the occasion of a large afternoon tea, or afternoon "at home," etc. (see chapter on "afternoon 'at homes,'" p. .) the tea hour varies from to . o'clock. when callers are present at o'clock, tea should be brought in at that hour. it should be placed upon a small table, which is first covered with a white linen or damask tea-cloth. the tea-tray should be large enough to hold, in addition to the china, silver teapot, etc., an urn for hot water, which should be brought in and placed upon it. a stand containing hot cakes, an uncut cake, small cakes, tiny sandwiches, and thin bread-and-butter should be placed near to the tea-table. tiny tea-plates should be placed in a pile upon the tea-tray, they being in general use. the hostess or her daughter should pour out the tea. apart from the foregoing style of afternoon tea is the newer fashion of what might be termed "a round-table tea," at which hostess and guests sit, but this style is more usual at country houses than in town houses at present, on account of the space required, if for no other reason. the tea is served in a smaller drawing-room, upon a large round or oval table, which is covered with a white table-cloth, upon which the tea-tray with all its contents is placed. cakes, hot and cold, sandwiches, pastry, fruit, jam, bread-and-butter, biscuits, dry toast, etc., are given, and the visitors seated at the table help themselves to what they require. the hostess pours out the tea and hands the cups as when guests are not seated in this way. dessert plates and dessert knives and forks should be placed on the table beside the small tea-plates, to be taken as required. footnotes: [ ] see work entitled "the art of conversing." chapter v precedency the order of precedency due to each individual according to rank is a matter of great importance at official banquets and at ceremonious dinner-parties, when its correct observance should be strictly adhered to. =as regards precedency amongst royal personages=, the sovereign takes precedence of all others in the realm; the king takes precedence of queen mary. the prince of wales takes precedence of the duke of connaught. queen alexandra takes precedence of the royal princesses. the royal princesses take precedence of their husbands, prince christian and the duke of argyll. =the precedency accorded to foreign royal personages= in this country very much depends upon their individual rank. imperial highnesses and royal highnesses take precedence of serene highnesses. =the precedency accorded to eastern princes= is generally synonymous with that accorded to serene highnesses; but in some instances the claims of individual precedency are so difficult to define, that in official cases it is sometimes necessary to make a special rule as to the amount of precedency to be allowed. =as regards general precedency=, archbishops, ambassadors, the lord high chancellor, the prime minister, lord chancellor of ireland, lord president of the council, and lord privy seal, take precedence of dukes; dukes take precedence of earls, and so on throughout the various degrees of nobility. =foreign ministers and envoys= take precedence next after dukes, in the order of their seniority of service in england. in all cases where precedency is to be established between persons of equal rank it is necessary to refer to a peerage for date of creation of title, as this actually decides all precedency. =for precedency due to baronets= and their wives a baronetage should be consulted. =for precedency due to knights= and their wives a knightage should be consulted in reference to each order of knighthood. =for the precedency due to the legal profession= a law list should be consulted when it is not defined by office or birth. =for the precedency due to the clergy= a clergy list should be consulted when superior preferment or birth does not define it. =for the precedency due to officers= in the army and navy an army list and a navy list should be consulted to determine the precedency due to each in the separate services. =officers should be sent in to dinner= according to the dates of commission, but no branch of the army takes precedence over the other as regards rank of officers; that is to say, a colonel of , of say, a west india regiment, would precede a colonel of guards, artillery or cavalry of promotion. drawn up on a brigade parade, the cavalry take the right of the line; thus: artillery, royal engineers, foot guards and regular regiments, regiments and west india regiments, in the order named in the army list. =as regards precedency between officers= of the combined services a table of "relative rank and precedency in the army and navy" should be consulted, as a captain in the navy after three years' service ranks with a colonel in the army, a lieutenant of the navy of eight years' standing ranks with a major in the army, and a lieutenant under that standing in the navy, ranks with a captain in the army, etc. consulate officers also take precedence according to seniority of service in england and date of official arrival. the foreign office list of the current year should be consulted for date in each instance. =as regards the precedence due to widows= bearing titles who have married again: the widow of a peer married to a commoner retains her title by courtesy, and the precedency due to the title is accorded to her. =when the widow of a duke= marries a person of lower rank than that of her late husband, she still retains her precedency. =the daughter of a peer= if married to a baronet or a commoner retains her precedency, but if married to a baron her precedency is merged in that of her husband. =the widow of a baronet= married to a commoner retains her title by right and not by courtesy. =the widow of a knight= married to a commoner retains her title by courtesy only, but the precedency due to the widow of a knight is accorded to her. =when the daughter of a duke= marries a peer she takes the precedency due to the rank of her husband; if she marries a commoner, precedency is accorded to her due to the daughter of a duke. =age confers no precedency= on either sex. equals in rank from the highest to the lowest take precedence according to the creation of their title and not as regards the age of the person bearing the title. as, for instance, a youthful duke would take precedence of an aged duke, if the title of the youthful duke bore an earlier date than that of the aged duke. the same rule applies equally to baronets and knights. when two earls are present at a dinner-party, the date of their respective patents of nobility decides the order of precedency due to them. a host or hostess should always consult a "peerage" or a "baronetage" if in doubt as to the precedence due to expected guests bearing titles; wealth or social position are not taken into account in this matter, it being strictly a question of date. =the precedence due to ladies of equal rank= takes effect in the same manner. thus, a young wife of a baronet takes precedence over the elderly wife of a baronet if the creation of her husband's title bears an earlier date. =when the claims to precedency of persons of equal rank= clash, the claims of a gentleman should be waived in favour of those of a lady, should the persons be of opposite sexes. thus, if two couples of superior rank to the other guests were present at a dinner-party, the host should take down the lady of highest rank, and the hostess should be taken down by the gentleman of highest rank, in which case the lady second in rank should go in to dinner _before_ her husband, although the gentleman taking her down to dinner were of lower rank than her husband. =esquires, and the wives of esquires=, take precedence according to their social position. members of parliament have no precedence, though it is often accorded to them as a matter of courtesy, especially in the county which they represent; the wives of members of parliament are likewise entitled to no precedence on the ground of their husbands being members of parliament. =the high sheriff of a county= takes precedence over all other gentlemen in the county, of whatever rank, save the lord-lieutenant, according to the royal warrant issued by his late majesty king edward, giving precedence to lord-lieutenants of counties before high sheriffs. =the high sheriff= out of his particular county has no precedence, neither has a lord-lieutenant; and the wives of either lords-lieutenants or high sheriffs take no precedence on account of their husbands' official dignity. =an assize judge= takes precedence over the high sheriff as the assize judge represents the sovereign of the realm. =clergymen, barristers-at-law=, officers in the army and navy take precedence over esquires on account of such rank; and in each profession precedence should be accorded them according to dignity, date of ordination, date of call, and date of commission in their several professions, assuming that the rank is equal. =high clerical and legal dignitaries= take special precedence; for instance, the archbishop of canterbury takes precedence of all dukes, and the lord chancellor takes precedence of the archbishop of york, who also takes precedence of dukes; bishops take precedence of all barons, whatever their date of creation. the lord chief justice, the master of the rolls, when not peers, and all judges of the high court of justice in their various divisions, take precedence after privy councillors and before baronets and all knights, save the knights of the garter. =the relative rank between officers of the army and navy= and doctors of divinity is somewhat difficult to determine as regards the precedence to be given them at a dinner-party. "dod" places "esquires by office, which, of course, includes all officers of the army and navy," next _before_ the younger sons of knights and before doctors in divinity, who follow next in order; while "lodge" places "officers of the navy and army" _after_ the younger sons of knights bachelor, clergymen, and barristers-at-law. =precedency at dinner-parties.=--when royalty is present at a dinner-party, a prince of blood royal takes precedence of a princess, and leads the way with the hostess, the host following next with the princess. on the other hand, a princess of the blood royal takes precedence of a foreign prince--her husband--and leads the way with the host. =the host should take down the lady of highest rank=, and lead the way with her to the dining-room. the guests should follow the host in couples according to the degree of precedence due to them, and the hostess should follow the last couple with the gentleman of highest rank present. =when a greater number of gentlemen= than ladies are present at a dinner-party, as is often the case, these gentlemen should follow the hostess to the dining-room and not precede her. =when a widow or maiden lady is hostess=, and there is no gentleman of the family present to act as host, the gentleman second in rank should take down the lady of highest rank, leading the way with her to the dining-room, the hostess following last, with the gentleman of highest rank. =in the case of either a husband's sister= or a wife's sister being required to act as hostess, precedence should be given to the wife's sister. =an eldest son's wife= should take precedence of her husband's sisters in his father's house. as regards the precedence due to the relatives of a host or hostess, it should give way in favour of that due to the guests not related to the host or hostess, although their relatives might be, perhaps, of higher rank than the guests themselves. occasionally, the eldest son of the house acts as second host, taking down a lady second or third in rank; but the daughters of the house should always be taken down to dinner after the other ladies present, and in no case before them. no precedence is accorded to either a lady or a gentleman by virtue of a mother's rank. no precedence is accorded to brides in society, though occasionally in the country old-fashioned people consider it due to a bride to send her in to dinner with the host on the occasion of her first dining at a house within three months of her marriage. table of general precedency gentlemen the king. the prince of wales. the sovereign's younger sons. the sovereign's grandsons. the sovereign's brothers. the sovereign's uncles. the sovereign's nephews. ambassadors. archbishop of canterbury. lord high chancellor. archbishop of york. the prime minister. lord chancellor of ireland. lord president of the council. lord privy seal. dukes who may happen to hold either of these five offices-- . lord great chamberlain. . earl marshal. . lord steward. . lord chamberlain. . master of the horse. dukes in order of their patents of creation-- . dukes of england. . " " scotland. . dukes of great britain. . " " ireland created before the union. . dukes created since the union. eldest sons of dukes of blood royal. marquesses who may hold either of the offices of state named above. marquesses in same order as dukes. dukes' eldest sons. earls holding either of the five offices of state. earls in same order as dukes. younger sons of dukes of blood royal. marquesses' eldest sons. dukes' younger sons. viscounts who may hold either of the five offices of state. viscounts in same order as dukes. earls' eldest sons. marquesses' younger sons. bishop of london. " " durham. " " winchester. other english bishops in order of their consecration. moderator of the church of scotland. barons holding either of the five offices of state. barons who may be secretaries of state or irish secretary. barons in same order as dukes. the speaker of the house of commons. treasurer of the household. comptroller of the household. vice-chamberlain of the household. secretaries of state below the rank of barons. viscounts' eldest sons. earls' younger sons. barons' eldest sons. commoners who are knights of the garter. privy councillors of rank lower than the foregoing, according to date they were sworn in. chancellor of the exchequer. " " " duchy of lancaster. lord chief justice of england. master of the rolls. lords justices of appeal and president of probate court. judges of the high court of justice. viscounts' younger sons. barons' " " sons of life peers. baronets according to dates of patents. knights grand cross of bath. knights grand commanders, star of india. knights grand cross of st. michael and st. george. knights grand commanders of indian empire. knights grand cross of royal victorian order. knights commanders of above orders in same sequence. knights bachelors of above orders in same sequence. commanders of the royal victorian order. judges of county courts in england and ireland, and judges of the city of london court. masters in lunacy. companions of orders of bath, star of india, ss. michael and george, and indian empire in same sequence. members of th class of royal victorian order. companions of distinguished service order. eldest sons of younger sons of peers. baronets' eldest sons. knights' eldest sons, in order of their fathers. members of th class of royal victorian order. younger sons of peers' younger sons. baronets' younger sons. knights' younger sons, in order of their fathers. naval, military, and other esquires by office. gentlemen entitled to bear coat armour. ladies the queen. the queen mother. the sovereign's daughters. wives of sovereign's younger sons. sovereign's granddaughters. wives of sovereign's grandsons. sovereign's sisters. wives of sovereign's brothers. sovereign's aunts. wives of sovereign's uncles. sovereign's nieces. wives of sovereign's nephews. duchesses (in same order as dukes). wives of eldest sons of dukes of blood royal. marchionesses. wives of eldest sons of dukes. daughters of dukes. countesses. wives of younger sons of royal dukes. wives of eldest sons of marquesses. daughters of marquesses. wives of younger sons of dukes. viscountesses. wives of eldest sons of earls. daughters of earls. wives of younger sons of marquesses. baronesses. wives of eldest sons of viscounts. daughters of viscounts. wives of younger sons of earls. wives of eldest sons of barons. daughters of barons. maids of honour. wives of younger sons of viscounts. wives of younger sons of barons. daughters and sons' wives of life peers. wives of baronets. daughters of baronets. wives of eldest sons of knights. daughters of knights. wives of younger sons of peers' younger sons. wives of younger sons of baronets. wives of younger sons of knights. wives of esquires. wives of gentlemen. chapter vi the colloquial application of titles the colloquial application of titles differs materially from the application of titles when not used colloquially, and many persons are in doubt as to whether they should or should not make use colloquially of titles in full. his majesty the king should be addressed as "sir" by all those who come in social contact with him; and by all others as "your majesty." her majesty queen mary should be addressed as "ma'm" by all those who come in social contact with her; and by all others as "your majesty." her majesty queen alexandra should be addressed as "ma'm" by all those who come in social contact with her; and by all others as "your majesty." the prince of wales, the duke of connaught, and all princes of the blood royal, should be addressed by the upper classes as "sir." the princesses of the blood royal, should be addressed as "ma'm" by the upper classes. the wives of the princes of the blood royal should also be addressed as "ma'm" by the upper classes. all crowned heads visiting england should be addressed as "sir" by those socially known to them, and as "your majesty" by all others. the royal ladies, their wives, should be addressed as "ma'm" by those personally known to them, and as "your majesty" by all others. a foreign prince bearing the title of serene highness should be addressed as "prince," and not as "sir," by the aristocracy and gentry, and as "your serene highness" by all other classes. a foreign princess, also bearing the title of serene highness, should be styled "princess" when addressed colloquially by the upper classes, but not as "ma'am"; and as "your serene highness" by all other classes. an english duke should be addressed as "duke" by the aristocracy and gentry, and not as "your grace" by members of either of these classes. all other classes should address him colloquially as "your grace." an english duchess should be addressed as "duchess" by all persons conversing with her belonging to the upper classes, and as "your grace" by all other classes. a marquess, colloquially, should be addressed as "lord a." a marchioness should be addressed as "lady a." by the upper classes. it would be a mistake to address an english marquess as "marquess," or a marchioness as "marchioness," colloquially speaking. all other classes should address them either as "my lord" or "your lordship," "my lady" or "your ladyship." an earl should be addressed as "lord b." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. a countess should be addressed as "lady b." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. a viscount should be addressed as "lord c." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. a viscountess should be addressed as "lady c." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. a baron should be addressed as "lord d." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. a baroness should be addressed as "lady d." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. in strictly official or business intercourse a marquess, an earl, a viscount, a baron, and a younger son of a duke or marquis, should be addressed as "my lord." the eldest son of a duke should be addressed as "lord a." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. the wife of the eldest son of a duke should be addressed as "lady a." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the younger sons of a duke should be addressed as "lord john e." or "lord charles e." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. persons well acquainted with them would address them colloquially by their title and christian name, as "lord john" or "lord charles." the same remark applies to their wives, who are often colloquially addressed as "lady alfred" or "lady edward." the wives of the younger sons of a duke should be addressed as "lady john e." or "lady charles e." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the daughters of a duke should be addressed as "lady mary a." or "lady elizabeth b." by the upper classes, and as "lady mary" and "lady elizabeth" by those intimate with them, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the eldest son of a marquess should be addressed as "lord a." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. the wife of the eldest son of a marquis should be addressed as "lady a." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the younger sons of a marquis should be addressed as "lord henry b." and "lord frederick b." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. the wives of the younger sons of a marquis should be addressed as "lady henry b." and "lady frederick b." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the daughters of a marquis should be addressed as "lady florence b." and "lady sarah b." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the eldest son of an earl should be addressed as "lord c." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. the wife of the eldest son of an earl should be addressed as "lady c." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the daughters of an earl should be addressed as "lady blanche" and "lady evelyn" by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the younger sons of earls, and both eldest and younger sons of viscounts and barons, only bear the courtesy title of honourable. the daughters of viscounts and barons also bear the courtesy title of honourable. this title should never be used colloquially, "the hon. cecil blank," "the hon. mrs. cecil blank," and "the hon. mary blank," should be styled "mr., mrs., and miss mary blank." baronets should be addressed by their full title and surname, as sir john blank, by the upper classes, and by their titles and christian names only by all other classes. baronets' wives should be addressed as "lady b." or "lady c," according to the surnames of their husbands: thus, "sir john blank's" wife should be addressed as "lady blank" by the upper classes, not as "lady john blank"--to do so would be to give her the rank of the wife of the younger son of a duke or marquis instead of that of a baronet's wife only--and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the wives of knights should be addressed as "lady b." or "lady c.," according to the surnames of their husbands: thus, "sir john blank's" wife should be addressed as "lady blank" by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. =in addressing foreigners of rank colloquially=, the received rule is to address them by their individual titles and surnames. a prince or princess should be addressed by their full title: thus, "prince munich," or "princess munich," by the upper classes. persons intimate with them usually address them as "prince" or "princess," as the case may be. in the case of a prince being a younger son, and not the reigning head of the house, his christian name is generally used after his title when addressing him: thus, "prince louis," in lieu of "prince" only. the same remark applies to the unmarried daughters of princes. they also should be addressed by their christian name, in addition to their title of "princess," by the aristocracy and gentry, and as "your serene" or "your imperial highness," according to their birth and title, by all other classes. a french duke should be addressed by his surname, with the addition of monsieur: thus, "monsieur de rouen," by the upper classes, and as "monsieur le duc" by all other classes. a french duchess should be addressed by her surname, with the addition of madame: thus, "madame de rouen" by the upper classes, and as "madame la duchesse" by all other classes. a marquis should be addressed by his surname, with the addition of monsieur: thus, "monsieur de harfleur" by the upper classes, and as "monsieur le marquis" by all other classes. a marquise should be addressed by her surname, with the addition of madame: thus, "madame la harfleur" by the upper classes, and as "madame la marquise" by all other classes. a comte should be addressed by his surname, with the addition of monsieur: thus, "monsieur de montpellier" by the upper classes, and as "monsieur le comte" by all other classes. a comtesse should be addressed by her surname, with the addition of madame: thus, "madame de montpellier" by the upper classes, and as "madame la comtesse" by all other classes. a vicomte should be addressed by his surname, with the addition of monsieur: thus, "monsieur de toulouse" by the upper classes, and as "monsieur le vicomte" by all other classes. a vicomtesse should be addressed by her surname, with the addition of madame: thus, "madame de toulouse" by the upper classes, and as "madame la vicomtesse" by all other classes. a baron should be addressed by his surname, with the addition of monsieur: thus, "monsieur d'avignon" by the upper classes, and as "monsieur le baron" by all other classes. a baronne should be addressed by her surname, with the addition of madame: thus, "madame d'avignon" by the upper classes, and as "madame la baronne" by all other classes. a young unmarried lady should be addressed as "mademoiselle d'avignon" by the upper classes, and as "mademoiselle" by all other classes. in german titles the distinction of "von" before the surname is seldom used colloquially, the title and surname being used without the prefix of "von." thus, "count von ausberg" should be addressed as "count ausberg" in conversation, and not as "monsieur le comte." foreign ladies of rank should be addressed by their title and surname, and not by their title only, and the prefix "von" should be omitted; but in the case of a french or italian title the "de" or "de la" before the surname should on no account be omitted. when englishmen are extremely intimate with foreigners of rank they would, in conversation, probably address them by their surnames; but only thorough intimacy and friendship warrants this familiarity. =as regards addressing the clergy=, an archbishop should be addressed colloquially as "archbishop" by the upper classes, and as "your grace" by the clergy and all other classes. a bishop should be addressed colloquially as "bishop" by the upper classes, and as "my lord" by the clergy and all other classes. a dean should be styled "dean blank" or "dean," by the upper classes, and as "mr. dean" by the clergy. an archdeacon should be addressed as "archdeacon blank," and a canon as "canon blank." the wives of archbishops, bishops, and deans should be respectively addressed as "mrs. a.," "mrs. b.," or "mrs. c." they take no title from the spiritual rank of their husbands. =officers in the army= should be respectively addressed as "general a.," "colonel b.," "major c.," or "captain d.," and not as "general," "colonel," or "major," except by their very intimate friends. the wives of officers should be addressed as "mrs. a.," "mrs. b.," "mrs. c.," or "mrs. d." they should never be addressed as "mrs. general a.," "mrs. colonel b.," "mrs. major c.," or "mrs. captain d." a lady should not address her husband colloquially by his surname only, as "jones," "brown," or by whatever his surname might be, or speak of him without the prefix of "mr." the usual rule is for a wife to speak of her husband as "mr. brown," or "my husband," except to intimate friends, when the christian name only is frequently used, and to address him by his christian name only. a wife should not address her husband by the initial letter of his surname, as "mr. b." or "mr. p."; neither should a husband address his wife by the initial letter of his surname. when intimate friends address each other by the initial letter of their names it is by way of pleasantry only, and such cases, of course, do not come within the rules of etiquette. peeresses frequently address their husbands, and speak of them, by the name attached to their title, in place of using their christian or family name. thus, the "earl of blankshire" would be styled "blankshire" by his wife, without the prefix of "lord," and his usual signature would be "blankshire," without the addition of any christian name. baronets' wives should not address their husbands by their surnames, but by their christian names, and should speak of them as "sir george" or "sir john." the wives of knights also should not address their husbands by their surnames, but by their christian names, and should speak of them as "sir george" or "sir john." the lord mayor should be addressed as "lord mayor," colloquially, and the lady mayoress as "lady mayoress," unless the lord mayor during office is created a baronet or receives the honour of knighthood, when he should be addressed as "sir john" or "sir henry," and his wife as "lady a." chapter vii points of etiquette as regards royal personages general society is now very frequently brought into contact with royalty--members of the royal family of england and members of various royal families of europe. with his majesty this association is of frequent occurrence as regards the general public, and persons possessing special interest are constantly brought into communication with him. strict court etiquette is greatly in abeyance, and laid aside by his majesty when paying visits to personal friends, or when receiving visits from the same. the geniality of the english princes and princesses is everywhere acknowledged, and the restrictions of court etiquette are frequently relaxed by their desire when visiting at the houses of the nobility and gentry. the etiquette that reigns in foreign courts--austria, russia, greece, etc.--is seldom waived, and is adhered to with much punctilio. so much so is this the case with certain foreign princes who visit our shores, that the observances they claim as due to their exalted position are often felt to be a restraint upon the hosts whom they honour with their company, in town or country, at dinner, ball, or country-house party. on the other hand, many royal personages who occasionally visit england are unbending and unceremonious towards society in general. when royal personages visit london for a few weeks, whether located at palace, embassy, or hotel, it is etiquette for any person who is personally acquainted with or connected in any way with their court or cabinet, or who has been presented at their court, to leave cards on them and write their names in their visiting books. persons still higher in the social scale, give receptions in their honour, and invite them to stay at their princely mansions. when such visits are paid, the principal neighbours are usually invited to meet the royal guests at dinner, ball, or reception, and on the invitation card is written, "to meet h.r.h. the crown prince of ----," or "her serene highness the grand duchess of ----," etc.; but a hostess exercises her own discretion respecting the invitations she issues. if a ball is in contemplation the county at large is invited to the mansion, but if dinner invitations only are issued, then the circle is necessarily restricted to a favoured few. the neighbours who are not invited to a house where a royal guest is staying should avoid calling on the hostess until the departure of the royal visitors, even if calls are due. the principal people of a county who happen to be present at an entertainment, either dinner or dance, are usually presented to the royal guests by the host or hostess, permission to do so having been first solicited. when the person to be presented is a person of rank or distinction, it would only be necessary to say, "may i present lord a., or general b., to you, sir?" but if the person to be presented has no particular claim to the honour beyond being popular in the county, the request should be prefaced with a few words of explanation respecting the person to be presented. when the name or fame of those presented has reached the ears of the royal guests, they usually shake hands on the presentation being made, and enter into conversation with them; otherwise they merely bow, and make one or two passing remarks. a house-party is generally composed of those with whom a royal guest is more or less acquainted. when the party includes any one who is a stranger to the royal guests, he or she should be presented on the first opportunity. the members of the royal family have each, more or less, their particular set, as have also the foreign princes who periodically visit this country, and therefore house-parties are usually made up of those moving in the set of the expected prince. for the proper mode of addressing royal personages, see chapter vi. =as regards royal invitations=, all invitations from the sovereign are commands, and must be answered and obeyed as such, and the word "command" must be made use of in answering such invitations. if any reason exists for not obeying his majesty's commands it should be stated. invitations from members of the royal family are treated by courtesy as commands, but in replying to such invitations the word "command" should not be used. the answers to such invitations should be addressed to the comptroller of the household, by whom they are usually issued. answers to royal invitations should be written in the third person, and reasons given for non-acceptance. a previous engagement cannot be pleaded as an excuse for refusing a royal invitation; only personal indisposition or serious illness, or death of near relatives, would be adequate reasons for not accepting a royal invitation. when a royal invitation is verbally given, the answer should be verbal also. at all entertainments at which royal guests are present they should be received by the host and hostess in the entrance-hall. in the case of serene highnesses they should be received by the host and conducted by him to the hostess; this rule equally applies to the reception of eastern princes. =henceforward there are to be= in great britain no princes or princesses other than those of the blood royal. only the children and grandchildren of the sovereign will hold princely rank; the titles of "highness" and "serene highness" will disappear; and that of "royal highness" will be reserved to the direct descendants of the king in the male line. =the king has deemed it desirable=, in the conditions brought about by the present war, that those princes of his family who are his subjects and bear german names and titles should relinquish these titles and henceforth adopt british surnames. =his majesty has conferred peerages= of the united kingdom on the following:--the duke of teck to be a marquis; prince alexander of teck to be the earl of athlone; prince louis of battenberg to be the marquis of milford haven; and prince alexander of battenberg to be the marquis of carisbrooke. =indian princes.=--the exact status of indian princes has never been actually laid down, but all who are "highnesses" are given precedence at the english court and in society after the royal family and foreign princes. in the procession at court entertainments they go in front of ambassadors. no indian prince is considered to be of blood royal, and they do not stand in the line at levées and courts, but all have the private _entrée_. chapter viii points of etiquette when travelling abroad, and presentations at foreign courts the acquaintanceship of foreign residents is of considerable service to english people purposing to winter abroad, or to remain for any length of time in a continental city, as by its means they obtain an entrance into foreign society. an introduction to the english ambassador or minister at a foreign court is of still greater service in this matter. people of recognised position in society have the privilege of leaving cards at the english embassy at any foreign city in which they intend making a temporary stay. so thoroughly is the position of english travellers known to the english ministry at a foreign court, that should a person, who is not received in english society, leave cards at the english embassy, they would be at once returned as an intimation that the acquaintance is declined. it is erroneous to suppose that by leaving cards upon foreigners of distinction, an acquaintanceship can be commenced, for unless introductions have been formally made, leaving cards is a useless proceeding. at far-away spots little frequented by the general run of travellers, and where there are but few, if any, resident english, travellers requiring advice or assistance from the english consul, can, without an introduction, call upon him, nationality being the ground upon which to do this, and if of equal social standing, they would be received with social consideration; if otherwise, all assistance would be given to them from an official point of view. many people when travelling abroad make pleasant acquaintances even without the help of introductions, the occasion of a meeting being as it were a semi-introduction in itself. such casual acquaintanceships are, however, attended with certain risks, especially to persons who have been absent from england some little time, or who when in england have entered comparatively but little in society, and who are thus apt to drift unawares into close friendships with people perhaps well bred and agreeable, although tabooed at home for some good and sufficient reason. _contretemps_ such as these are painful to kind-hearted people when subsequently compelled to avoid and to relinquish the acquaintance of those with whom they have become pleasantly intimate. an introduction to an english resident in either town or city obviates any unpleasantness of this nature, as one so situated is generally kept _au courant_ with all that takes place in society at home. =when persons desire to enter into society abroad= they endeavour to obtain letters of introduction from friends and acquaintances to residents in the cities they purpose visiting. unless english travellers have been duly presented at the court of st james's, they cannot obtain presentations at foreign courts through the english embassies. when a lady desires a presentation at a foreign court, she should write to the english ambassadress and request the honour of a presentation, and should state the date of her presentation and the name of the lady by whom she was presented. after her statement has been duly verified the request is granted. in a like manner when a gentleman desires a presentation at a foreign court, he should write to the ambassador and request the honour of a presentation, and should state the date of the levée at which he was presented, and the name of the person by whom the presentation was made. presentations at foreign courts take place in the evening, and the persons to be presented, and those who attend, assemble previous to the entrance of the royal personages: the rule is for the grand _maîtresse_ to present each lady in turn to her royal mistress, who makes the tour of the apartment for this purpose, and addresses some courteous observation to each. chapter ix the received mode of pronouncing certain surnames there are, perhaps, two reasons why various surnames are so frequently mispronounced, the one being unfamiliarity with the freak of fashion which governs the pronunciation of certain well-known names, the other ignorance, or want of education. when sensitive persons hear a name pronounced differently from the way in which they have themselves but just pronounced it, and in a tone and manner strongly suggestive of correction, it is wounding to their _amour propre_. as a rule, when persons are in doubt as to the correct pronunciation of any particular name, it would be best to avoid mentioning it, if possible, until their doubts are set at rest by some one better informed than themselves. names that have a fashionable or peculiar pronunciation, or are pronounced otherwise than as they are spelt, are but few, and names which it is possible wrongly to accent are also not very numerous; but it is surprising how often these names occur in the course of conversation. the names of distinguished artists that are open to mispronunciation occur far oftener in conversation than do the general run of uncommon surnames. there are many celebrated hunts and hunting quarters of which the names are open to considerable mispronunciation. with regard to placing the accent on the wrong syllable in the pronunciation of names, it requires but little thought to avoid making this mistake, a popular error being that of placing the accent upon the last syllable of a name; whereas, in a name of two syllables, the accent should invariably be placed upon the first, and the second syllable should be as it were slightly abbreviated or slightly altered. in names of three syllables the error usually consists in placing the accent upon the last syllable, whereas the accent should be placed upon the second syllable. there are occasional exceptions to this rule, and the few names given in this chapter, both as regards their pronunciation and accentuation, will serve as a useful guide in the pronunciation of uncommon names. spelt. pronounced. remarks. abergavenny. abergen'ny. _av_ not sounded. arbuthnot. arbuth'not. arundel. arrandel. beaconsfield. beckonsfield. beauchamp. bea'cham. beauclerk or } bo'clair. accent on first syllable. beauclerc. } belvoir. be'ver. berkely. bark'ley. bethune. bee'ton. bicester. bis'ter. accent on first syllable. blount. blunt. blyth. bly. _th_ not sounded. bourke. burk. bourne. burn. bowles. boles. breadalbane. breaddal'bane. accent on second syllable. brougham. broum. buchan. buck'an. accent on first syllable. burdett. burdett'. accent on last syllable. burnett. burnett'. accent on last syllable. bury. berry. calderon. cal'dron not cauldron. charteris. charters. cholmeley. chum'ley. cholmondeley. " cirencester. cis'ester. accent on first syllable. clanricarde. clanrecarde. accent on second syllable. cockburn. c[=o]burn. _ck_ not sounded. colquhoun. kohoon'. accent on last syllable. conynham. cunyingham. coutts. koots. cowper. cooper. dalziel. dee'al. accent on first syllable. derby. darby. des vaux. deveu. the _x_ not sounded. devereux. devereu. the _x_ not sounded. dillwyn. dil'lun. the _wy_ takes the sound of _u_; the accent on first syllable. duchesne. dukarn. du plat. du plar. elgin. the _g_ hard as in give. eyre. air. fildes. filedes. _not_ filldes. fortescue. fort'iskew. geoffrey. jefrey. geoghegan. gaygan. gifford. jifford. the _g_ soft as in george. gillett. _g_ hard as in gilbert. gillott. _g_ hard. glamis. glarms. gorges. gor'jes. first _g_ hard and second _g_ soft. gough. goff. gower. gor. but gower as regards the street of that name with the general public. harcourt. har'kut. accent on first syllable. heathcote. heth'kut. hertford. har'ford. home. hume. hughes. hews. jervis. jarvis. johnstone. the _t_ not sounded. kennaird. kennaird'. accent on last syllable. kennard. kennard'. accent on last syllable. ker. kar. knollys. knowls. layard. laird. leconfield. lek'onfield. lefevre. lefavre. leigh. lee. lyvedon. livden. macnamara. macnemar'ar. accent on third syllable. mainwaring. man'nering. marjoribanks. marshbanks. mcintosh. makintosh. mcleod. mccloud. menzies. myng'es. accent on first syllable. meux. mews. the _x_ sounded as _s_. millais. mil'lay. accent on first syllable. milnes. mills. molyneux. the _x_ sounded, with slight accent on last syllable. monck. munk. monckton. munk'ton. accent on first syllable. monson. munson. montgomerie or } mungum'ery. accent on second syllable. montgomery. } mowbray. mobrey. nigel. ni'jel. ouless. ooless. parnell. parnell'. accent on last syllable. pepys. pep'is. accent on first syllable. pierrepont. pierpont. ponsonby. punsonby. pontefract. pomfret. pugh. pew. pytchley. p[=y]tch'ley. not pitchley. ruthven. riv'en. sandys. sands. st. clair. sinclair. st. maur. see'mor, or s'nt maur. st. john. sinjin. as regards christian and surname, but as st. john when applied to church or locality. seymour. sey'mer. accent on first syllable. strachan. strawn. tadema. tad'ymar. accent on first syllable. tollemache. tollmash. trafalgar. trafalgar'. accent on last syllable; as regards the peer of that name, not otherwise. tredegar. trede'gar. accent on second syllable. tremayne. tremayne'. accent on last syllable. tyrrwhitt. tirritt. vaughan. vorn. vaux. the _x_ sounded. villbois. vealbwor. villiers. vil'lers. waldegrave. wal'grave. the _de_ not sounded. wemyss. weems. willoughby d'eresby. willowby d'ersby. chapter x presentations at courts and attending courts courts are now held in lieu of drawing-rooms by their majesties the king and queen at buckingham palace, and at which presentations to their majesties are made. these courts are held in the evenings at ten o'clock, but the hour at which the company should commence to arrive is intimated by the lord chamberlain in the notice issued of the courts to be held. two courts are usually, but not invariably, held before easter, and two more after easter. ladies who have been presented at drawing-rooms and courts, held during the last two reigns, do not require to be again presented to their majesties the king and queen; thus, ladies who have already been presented at these drawing-rooms, and who are desirous of being invited to one or other of these courts, and who are also desirous of making presentations, should send in their names and the names of those to be presented by them to the lord chamberlain, st. james's palace, s.w., on the st of january in each year, but not before that date. ladies are also privileged to mention at the same time when it will be most convenient to them to pay their respects to their majesties. if it should not be convenient for a lady to attend or be presented at the particular court to which she is invited, it will be open to her to make her excuses to the lord chamberlain in writing, when her name can, if desired, and if possible, be transferred to another list. a lady who makes a presentation to their majesties, must be personally acquainted with and responsible for the lady she presents. she must herself attend the court, and cannot present more than one lady in addition to her daughter or daughter-in-law. the numbers received at each court being necessarily limited, ladies can only receive occasional invitations. therefore, those who cannot be included in the year's list of invitations will receive an intimation to this effect from the lord chamberlain in answer to their applications to attend. =the persons entitled to be presented at their majesties' courts= are the wives and daughters of the members of the aristocracy, the wives and daughters of those holding high official appointments in the government, the wives and daughters of members of parliament, the county gentry and town gentry, the wives and daughters of the members of the legal, military, naval, clerical, medical, and other professions, the wives and daughters of merchants, bankers, and members of the stock exchange, and persons engaged in commerce on a large scale. although the word "gentry" is thus elastic, and although persons coming within the category might be fairly entitled to the privilege of attending courts, yet it is well understood that birth, wealth, associations, and position give a _raison d'être_ for such privilege; as, for instance, the wife and daughters of an officer in the navy or a line regiment, whose means are slender, and whose position is obscure, would not be justified for these reasons in attending a court, although the officer himself might attend a levée if desirous of doing so; and this remark equally applies to the wives and daughters of clergymen, barristers, and others similarly situated. =presentations to their majesties= are made officially by the various foreign ambassadresses, by the wives of the members of the cabinet, and by the wives of other official personages in various departments of the state, either civil, military, naval, or clerical. presentations at each of their majesties' courts are now limited by royal command. presentations to their majesties should be made either by a relative or a friend of the lady presented who has herself been previously presented. a lady has the privilege of presenting one lady only at a court in addition to her daughter or daughter-in-law. this restriction does not apply to ladies who, from official position or other circumstances, are specially privileged to make presentations to their majesties. when a presentation is not made officially or by a near relative it is considered a favour on the part of the person making the presentation towards the person presented. the responsibility of a presentation rests upon the person who makes it, both as to the social and moral fitness of the person presented; therefore, to solicit the favour of a presentation from a friend is to incur a considerable obligation, and it is a favour ladies have no hesitation in refusing unless good reasons exist for granting it. when presentations are made through official channels the responsibility rests upon the "office" rather than upon the person making the presentation; hence presentations so made have little personal significance to the person making them. =a lady having been presented on her marriage= has the privilege of attending, by invitation, any subsequent court, but ladies who have no official position will only be allowed to attend a court by summons every third year. on the accession of her husband to any title, she would again have to be presented, and should she marry a second time another presentation would be necessary to entitle her to attend one of their majesties' courts. =it is the privilege of the married lady to make presentations=, but should any person be presented whose antecedents or present position renders her socially unqualified to be presented, the lord chamberlain, on becoming aware of the fact, would at once cancel the presentation, and officially announce it in the _gazette_, and the person making such presentation would be expected to tender an apology for so doing. =an unmarried lady does not possess the privilege= of making a presentation, however high her rank may be. she is not permitted to attend any subsequent courts after first presentation until three years have elapsed; save under exceptional circumstances. four courts are held during each year at buckingham palace, two before and two after easter, but due intimation is given previous to each court being held by the lord chamberlain through the medium of the official _gazette_, from whence it is copied into the newspapers. the wives of members of the cabinet and of the ambassadors or ministers at the court of st. james's usually attend at each court, and have the privilege of doing so by reason of the official presentations made by them at each court. =it is compulsory for a lady= making a presentation to be herself present at the court at which the presentation is to be made, though it is not necessary for her to accompany the person whom she presents, but simply to attend the same court. =when a lady intends making a presentation= she should, on or after the st of january write to the lord chamberlain and inform him of a wish to attend a court, and forward the name of the lady to be presented by her. =ladies are not expected= to attend court more than once in every three years, unless under exceptional circumstances. =a lady attending a court= may present one lady in addition to her daughter or daughter-in-law. =a lady presented for the first time= can only present her daughter or daughter-in-law at the court at which she is presented. =no applications can be received= from ladies who wish to be presented. their names must be forwarded by the ladies who wish to make the presentations. =summonses are issued= about three weeks before the date of each court. ladies may be accompanied to court by their husbands if the latter have been presented, but gentlemen do not pass before the king and queen. ladies are requested to forward the names of their husbands at the same time as their own, in order that they may be submitted together, as once the summons has been issued the amending of a summons card in order to include a lady's husband can only be permitted under the most exceptional circumstances. =those who have the privilege of the entrée= enter at the gate of the palace situated outside buckingham gate. those who possess this privilege are the diplomatic circle, the cabinet ministers and their wives, and the members of the household. the rooms, two in number, next to the presence chamber, are appropriated to them. all who have the privilege of the _entrée_ are received by their majesties before the general circle, and according to their individual precedency, and they have also the privilege of making the first presentations. =when a lady arrives at the palace= she should leave her wraps in the cloak-room with one of the maids in attendance. after crossing the great hall, she then makes her way up the grand staircase to the corridor, where she shows her invitation-card to the page-in-waiting, and then passes on to one of the saloons. when a lady arrives early she gains admission to the saloon next to those reserved for the _entrée_. when she arrives late she has to take her place in a further room of the suite according to the number of persons present. the gentlemen-at-arms stationed at the door of each room close the gilt barriers when they consider the saloons are full. chairs and benches are placed in the corridor and in these saloons for the accommodation of ladies thus waiting their turn to enter the throne-room or presence chamber. as the ladies quit each room for the presence chamber, others take their places, and the barriers are again closed, and this is continued until every one has been received. a lady has to pass through the two _entrée_ saloons before reaching the picture gallery. at the door of the picture gallery a lady's train, which she has hitherto carried on her arm, is let down by two officials in attendance, and spread out by them with their wands; she should cross the gallery with her train down to the presence chamber, at the door of which she should give the card of invitation she has brought with her to the official stationed there to receive it. =a lady on being presented=, curtsys to the king and curtsys to the queen. the king bows in return, as does also the queen. a lady presented does not kiss the queen's hand, as she formerly did. the king does not shake hands with any present, however high their rank may be, neither does the queen shake hands with any present. a lady on being presented does not now curtsy to any member of the royal family when she has passed their majesties, and leaves the presence chamber, stepping backwards, facing the royal party, until making her exit from the apartment, when an official places her train on her arm at the threshold of the doorway. =when a lady wishes to attend a court=, after having been duly presented, it is necessary to inform the lord chamberlain of her wish to attend. summonses are issued about three weeks before the date of each court. having received a summons to attend a court she should take the summons card with her, which she should show to the page-in-waiting in the corridor, and eventually hand it to the official stationed at the door of the presence chamber, by whom it is passed on to the lord chamberlain, who announces the name to their majesties. a lady attending a court curtsys to the king; she also curtsys to the queen, but does not curtsy to any other member of the royal family present. =in the general circle there is no precedency= as to the order in which ladies attending a court enter the presence chamber. the earliest arrivals are the first to appear before their majesties, without reference to rank or position; and the same rule applies to ladies who are presented, or to ladies who make presentations. =a married lady presented at a court= can, at the same court, present her daughter or daughter-in-law; but in this case the one presented by her should enter the presence chamber after her, and not before her. although, according to present regulations, the unmarried daughters of members of the nobility and gentry who have already been presented are only expected to attend a court once in every three years, it will not prevent their being invited to court functions, to the state balls, concerts, and garden parties. =ladies who have been presented at a court= have the privilege of writing their names in their majesties' visiting book at buckingham palace once during the season. the hours of calling for this purpose are generally from three to five o'clock in the afternoon. =it is imperative for ladies to wear full court dress= when attending or being presented at a court, viz. low bodice, short sleeves, and train to dress not less than three yards in length from the shoulders. whether the train is cut round or square is a matter of inclination or fashion. the width at the end should be inches. it is also imperative that a presentation-dress should be white, if the person presented be an unmarried lady; and it is also the fashion for married ladies to wear white on their presentation, unless their age renders their doing so unsuitable. the white dresses worn by either _débutantes_ or married ladies may be trimmed with either coloured or white flowers, according to individual taste. =high court dress.=--the queen has been pleased to permit that a high court dress of silk, satin, or velvet, may be worn at their majesties' courts, and on other state occasions, by ladies, to whom, from illness, infirmity, or advancing age, the present low court dress is inappropriate, viz.: bodices in front, cut square, or heart-shaped, which may be filled in with white only, either transparent or lined; at the back, high, or cut down three-quarters height. sleeves to elbow, either thick or transparent. trains, gloves, and feathers as usual. it is necessary for ladies who wish to appear in "high court dress" to obtain royal permission, through the lord chamberlain. this regulation does not apply to ladies who have already received permission to wear high dress. =white gloves only should be worn=, excepting in case of mourning, when black or grey gloves are admissible. as a lady on presentation does not now kiss the queen's hand as formerly she did, she is not required to remove the right-hand glove before entering the presence chamber. this order, therefore, is no longer in force, and a lady wearing elbow gloves and bracelets will find it a great convenience not to be obliged to take off her glove. =it is compulsory for both married and unmarried ladies to wear plumes.=--the married lady's court plume consists of three white feathers. an unmarried lady's of two white feathers. =the three white feathers= should be mounted as a prince of wales' plume, and worn towards the left-hand side of the head. =coloured feathers= may not be worn. =in deep mourning= white feathers must be worn, black feathers are inadmissible. =white veils or lace lappets= must be worn with the feathers. the veils should not be longer than inches. =bouquets are not included= in the dress regulations issued by the lord chamberlain, although they are invariably carried by both married and unmarried ladies. it is thus optional to carry a bouquet or not, and some elderly ladies carry much smaller bouquets than do younger ladies. a fan and a lace pocket-handkerchief are also carried by a lady on presentation or on attending a court, but these two items are also altogether optional. chapter xi presentations at levÉes and attending levÉes =levées are held by the king= in person. those who have been presented at levées held by his late majesty, king edward, do not require to be again presented to his majesty king george. =four or more levées are usually held every year= by the king at st. james's palace. gentlemen are officially presented by the heads of any department or profession to which they individually belong, whether civil or military, naval or clerical; it is more usual for a gentleman to be presented by the head of his department, or by the colonel of his regiment, than by his nearest relative. =presentations are also made by relatives= and friends of those presented; but these are greatly in the minority at all levées. =gentlemen must be again presented= at every step in their career, whether civil, military, naval, or clerical--on civil appointments, on gaining steps of naval, military, legal, or clerical rank, and on accession to title, whether inherited or conferred. =those entitled to be presented at his majesty's levées are= the members of the aristocracy and gentry, the members of the diplomatic corps, the cabinet, and all leading government officials, members of parliament, leading members of the legal profession, the naval and military professions, the leading members of the clerical profession, the leading members of the medical and artistic professions, the leading bankers, merchants, and members of the stock exchange, and persons engaged in commerce on a large scale. an exception to the rule as regards retail trade is made in favour of any person receiving knighthood, or when holding the office of mayor, or being made a justice of the peace, or on receiving a commission in the territorial forces. the dates on which levées are to be held are duly announced in the _gazette_, and in the daily newspapers. at all future levées cards of admission will be required, as the numbers at each of these ceremonies must be limited. the lord chamberlain has issued the following revised list of rules, which are to be observed at attendances and presentations in future-- all officers, whether on the active or retired lists, of the royal navy and the royal marines, of whatever rank, should communicate with and obtain their cards from the private secretary to the first lord of the admiralty. all civil officers of the admiralty should follow the same rule. all officers, whether on the active or retired lists, of the army, regulars or territorials, of whatever rank, except those on the indian and colonial establishments, should communicate with and obtain their cards from the adjutant-general at the war office, stating clearly at which levée they desire to be present, and whether they wish to attend or to be presented; if the latter, stating by whom and on what occasion. deputy lieutenants of counties should also communicate and obtain their cards from the war office. officers of the household cavalry and foot guards on the active list should make application to the lord chamberlain at st. james's palace for cards of admission and presentation. all retired officers of the household cavalry and brigade of guards should apply to the war office. all officers of the indian civil service and of the indian army, of whatever rank, whether on the active or retired lists, should communicate with and obtain their cards from the private secretary to the secretary of state at the india office, whitehall. all officers of the colonial service and colonial forces, of whatever rank, whether on the active or retired lists, should communicate with and obtain their cards from the colonial office, whitehall. similarly, all gentlemen connected with the foreign office, the home office, officials connected with the houses of parliament, or any government department, should communicate with and obtain their cards for attendance or presentation at levées from the department under which they serve. judges, law officers, king's counsel, and all legal officials holding appointments under the crown are requested to make their applications through the secretary to the lord chancellor. peers, bishops, lords-lieutenants of counties, members of parliament, clergy of all denominations, and all gentlemen, other than the above-mentioned, should communicate with the lord chamberlain at st. james's palace, when they will each be furnished with a card of admission for use at the levée. the names both for attendance and presentation must be received at the various offices above indicated not later than eight days prior to the date of each levée, but in the case of officers, who make application to the war office, fourteen days before the date of each levée. =when a gentleman makes a presentation= it is compulsory for him to attend the same levée as the person whom he presents, and the card of presentation is sent to him to be forwarded to the person to be presented. =a gentleman on being presented= should bow to the king, and his majesty will bow to him in return. gentlemen attending a levée should also bow to his majesty. =gentlemen who have been presented= at a levée have the privilege of writing their names in his majesty's visiting book at buckingham palace once during the season. the hours of calling for this purpose are generally from three to five o'clock in the afternoon. =the dress to be worn at courts, state functions and levées.=--full dress uniform is invariably worn by all gentlemen entitled to wear it. all officers of scottish kilted corps should wear the kilt irrespective of their being mounted officers or not. gentlemen who do not wear uniform may wear either velvet court dress, new style; velvet court dress, old style; cloth court dress. the new style velvet court dress is of black silk velvet. the body of the coat lined with white silk and the skirt with black silk. steel buttons. waistcoat of white satin or black silk velvet. breeches of black silk velvet, black silk hose, patent leather shoes, steel buckled; white bow necktie, white gloves, sword, black beaver or silk cocked hat. the velvet court dress, old style, is very similar to the foregoing, with the addition of a black silk wig-bag at the back of the neck, and lace frills and ruffles. the cloth court dress consists of a coat of dark mulberry, claret, or green cloth with black silk linings, gold embroidery on collar, cuffs, and pocket flaps, gilt buttons with imperial crown; waistcoat of white corded silk or white marcella; breeches of cloth, colour of coat; black silk hose, patent leather shoes, sword, white bow necktie, white gloves, black beaver or silk cocked hat. levée dress is identical with the foregoing except that trousers--with a row of narrow gold lace down the side seams--are worn, and not breeches. military patent leather boots. =archbishops and bishops= at levées and courts wear convocation robes, viz. scarlet cloth chimere, without hood; purple cassock and sash, lawn rochet with sleeves, white cambric bands, black silk scarf, black breeches, silver knee buckles, black silk stockings, shoes with silver buckles; purple or black velvet square soft cap to be carried. at evening state functions and full dress dinners they wear a purple cloth court coat over a short cassock or apron, sash of purple silk, black breeches, black silk stockings, shoes with silver buckles; black corded silk three-cornered hat to be carried. =deans and archdeacons= at evening state functions wear the same dress as bishops except that the coat and short cassock are black. doctors of divinity at levées and courts wear the scarlet cloth robe of their university, without hood. =clergy if not doctors of divinity= at levées and courts wear full canonicals, that is, a black silk geneva gown, double-breasted; black silk long cassock and sash, scarf and white lawn bands, black breeches, silver knee buckles, black silk stockings, shoes with silver buckles, black corded silk three-cornered hat. at full dress dinners and evening state parties when canonicals are not worn, they wear a black cloth court coat, cassock, waistcoat of black corded silk, black breeches, black silk stockings, shoes, silver buckles; black corded silk three-cornered hat to be carried. white gloves are worn at all court functions. the academical habit should not be worn at court except when addresses are presented from the universities. when the court is in mourning, gentlemen attending a levée are expected to wear a band of black crape on the left arm above the elbow. chapter xii balls and state balls =balls= are given in town and country by society at large, and these invitation balls include hunt balls, military and naval balls, yeomanry and territorial balls, bachelors' balls, etc. =public balls= are those balls for which tickets of admission can be purchased, although for many of these balls it is necessary to obtain vouchers from the committees or patronesses, when held in town or at watering-places. public balls include county balls, charity balls, and subscription balls, etc. =in town, ball-giving= is in a way a science, and an amusement upon which large sums of money are frequently expended. =a crowded ball= is not always pronounced a good ball by the guests, often the contrary, but then, again, what is termed a thin ball is open to the accusation of not going off well, and falling rather flat; of not being kept up with spirit, and of being considered a stupid ball, and so on. to hit upon a happy medium with regard to the number of guests is an achievement in ball-giving which is only arrived at by a careful study of the map of the county, and a judicious selection of night. this selection is of paramount importance to the success of a ball, as when a smarter ball is given at a smarter house on the particular evening chosen by the giver of a less brilliant ball, the grander ball extinguishes the lesser ball, through the most fashionable people merely looking in at the one, and remaining the rest of the evening at the other. this putting out as it were of the lesser light, occurs very frequently during the london season to ball-givers moving in the same sets. the guests who have been expected to add lustre to the lesser balls appear but for a few minutes, and usually arrive rather early, uncomplimentarily early, at perhaps a little before eleven, and remain hardly half an hour in the rooms, making their way to another ball of the same calibre, and remaining there perhaps another twenty minutes, before arriving at the goal, viz. _the_ ball of the evening. both ladies and gentlemen follow this practice, thus, at a little after twelve, an average ball-giver finds her rooms deserted by all but those who have nowhere else to go. although the flitting of the guests thus early is a disappointment to the hostess, and although it does not prevent the fleeting ball-givers from making suitable returns by placing the family on their ball lists, it yet greatly mars the enjoyment of the ball, and prevents its being looked back upon with anything approaching to pleasure or satisfaction, the departure of the most eligible partners being not the least of the vexations of the night. these _contretemps_ are sometimes unavoidable; but, when practicable, it is always best to postpone a ball rather than to allow it to clash with a ball of greater pretensions. an impromptu dance is often a great success, while an impromptu ball is almost as certain to prove a great failure. =the difference between a dance and a ball= consists in the number of the invitations issued, in the strength of the band, and the extent of the supper arrangements. at a dance the number of the guests varies from eighty to two hundred; at a ball they vary from two hundred to five hundred. at a dance a piano band is frequently engaged, while at a ball a full band is requisite. at a ball the floral decorations are a great feature, at a small dance they are often dispensed with. ladies new to society as it were, or whose circle of acquaintance is of a limited character, and who do not number in that circle many ball-givers, and who yet desire to form a ball acquaintance, frequently place their ball in the hands of some intimate friend of higher standing than themselves, giving her _carte blanche_ to form a ball list. when this plan is followed, invitations are still sent out by the ball-giver; in every case the name and compliments of the lady who forms the list are sent with the card. this plan, although of advantage to the hostess, is often productive of much unpleasantness to her unfashionable friends, who are naturally very much affronted at being excluded from the ball list, which they usually are, as a lady who undertakes to form a ball list for a friend is not a little arbitrary as to the conditions under which she assumes its management. she naturally wishes the ball to be confined to her own set, to the exclusion of what she terms all outsiders. ladies are always more or less reluctant to yield up their ball to the exclusion of their old friends, however anxious they may be to make new ones. but when a ball is thus given it is thoroughly understood that conditions, however stringent, must be complied with. =a hostess should receive her guests= at the head of the staircase at a ball given in town, and at the door of the ball-room at a country house ball. she should shake hands with each guest in the order of their arrival. the ladies of a party should advance towards the hostess, followed by the gentlemen of their party. a lady and gentleman should not ascend the staircase arm-in-arm, or make their entrance into the ball-room arm-in-arm. the gentlemen invariably enter the ball-room after the ladies of their party, and never before them, or arm-in-arm with them. a ball is usually opened either by the hostess herself, or by one of her daughters. =opening a fancy dress ball= simply signifies dancing in the first quadrille. opening a dance means dancing the first valse. when a member of the royal family, or a foreign prince, is expected, dancing should not commence until the arrival of the royal guest; and when the royal guest is a lady, the host should open the ball with her, having his wife or daughter as _vis-à-vis_. when the royal guest is a prince, the hostess or her daughter should open the ball with him. when a prince wishes to dance with any lady present, with whom he is unacquainted, his equerry informs her of the prince's intention, and conducts her to the prince, saying as he does so, "mrs. a----, your royal highness" or "miss b----, your royal highness." the prince bows and offers her his arm; the lady should curtsy and take it. she should not address him until addressed by him, it not being considered etiquette to do so. the same course is followed by a princess; strangers to the princess should not ask her to dance, but the host has the privilege of doing so. when more than one royal personage is present, the one of the highest rank leads the way, with either hostess or host. (see chapter v.) =royal guests= should be received by the host and hostess at the entrance of the mansion, and by them conducted to the ball-room. at ball-suppers the same precedence is strictly in force, the royal guests leading the way with host or hostess (see p. ). the same etiquette should be observed on the departure of royal guests as on their arrival. =general introductions= should not be made to royal guests, and introductions should be made by request only. gentlemen present at a ball are expected to ask the daughters of the house for one dance at least. a hostess should use her own discretion as to any introduction she thinks proper to make. when a ball is given in the country, the hostess should endeavour to find partners for those young ladies who are strangers to the general company. but when a ball is given in town, she is not expected to do so, as in town the guests are supposed to be acquainted with each other more or less, and to be independent of the kind offices of a hostess. =the dances mainly in vogue at the moment= are, "valses," "the boston," "two steps," and "the cotillon," in which handsome presents are given. "quadrilles" are danced at "state balls," and at those balls at which the king and queen are present. also at "fancy dress balls." "lancers" are danced occasionally at "hunt balls." =the precedency observed= in sending guests in to supper is far more punctiliously followed in the country than in town. the host should take in the lady of highest rank present, and the hostess should endeavour to send in the principal guests according to their individual rank; but in town she generally leaves the guests to follow the host and lady of highest rank according to their inclinations, a guest should not enter the supper-room before the host has done so. when a gentleman takes a lady in to supper, he should re-conduct her to the ball-room as a matter of course; the fact of friends joining her in the supper-room would not relieve him from this obligation. and the same etiquette applies equally to a lady. she should return to the ball-room only with the gentleman who has taken her down to supper, unless she is engaged for the ensuing dance, when her partner might come in quest of her; she should then return to the ball-room with him. it is not usual for guests to take leave of a hostess at a london ball. this remark applies to acquaintances of the hostess, and not to intimate friends. at a country ball the guests are on a more friendly footing than is generally the case in town; and, therefore, make a point of taking leave of the hostess if possible. it is optional whether a host conducts a lady to her carriage or not. in the country more is expected of him than in town in this respect, as at a london ball, such a civility would involve a vast amount of exertion which few hosts would be willing to undergo: ladies accompanied by an acquaintance generally make their way to their carriages. =the custom of covering in small balconies= and the windows of the drawing-rooms where a ball takes place, rendering the atmosphere of the room almost insupportable from the total exclusion of air, is fast disappearing. the space gained by this means for the accommodation of the guests is totally disproportionate to the discomfort thereby entailed upon them. ball-givers have at length realised the mistake of crowding two hundred to three hundred people together into rooms not properly ventilated, and it is now the rule, when covering in balconies, to introduce window frames into the bunting covering, and to drape them with lace curtains, etc., the windows of the ball-room being entirely removed. large blocks of ice are frequently placed in convenient spots for the purpose of cooling the atmosphere, and coloured ice produces a pretty effect. patent ventilators are also much in use, and the substitution of electric lighting, on account of its emitting little heat, has become general. ball-goers appreciate these alterations as only those who have experienced the close, stifling atmosphere of an over-crowded ball-room can do, and as half the london ball-rooms are only average-sized drawing-rooms, the absurdity of excluding air from the ball-room with yards of thick canvas cannot be too severely criticised. ball-givers, too, frequently issue far more invitations than the size of their rooms authorises, under the mistaken idea that to have a great crowd in their rooms is to give a good ball. but experienced ball-givers limit the number of their invitations to under two hundred, instead of expanding it to over three hundred. =the country ball season= ostensibly commences in november, reaches its zenith in january, and terminates early in february. the stewards of these balls are, as a rule, the representatives of the various classes by whom they are attended; the members of the aristocracy residing in the county heading the list of stewards, and the members of the professional classes usually closing it. the top of the ball-room is, as a rule, appropriated by the aristocratic element, head stewards and "lady patronesses." the enjoyment derived from country balls depends upon a variety of circumstances, which do not influence in a like degree the ball-going world of london. =county balls= are principally composed of a series of large parties brought by different ladies in the neighbourhood where the ball is held; but there are two classes of county balls, balls which are held in large and populous towns and attended by the principal residents of the towns, with only a small sprinkling of the county aristocracy and county gentry. there are also hunt balls and annual charity balls which take place between october and february, and which are an amalgamation of both classes of balls. the neighbourhood where a ball is held is a sufficient indication as to whether it is likely to be a smart one or not. as a rule the leading ladies of a county lend their names as patronesses and supporters of a charity ball, although it by no means follows that they will personally attend it; but a long list of influential patronesses materially increases the sale of tickets, which is the result to be achieved. a large attendance is not the primary object of a county ball, as the sum raised by the sale of tickets is only required to defray the expenses of the ball, although these are sometimes considerable, especially when the decorations are elaborate, and the arrangements on a grand scale, in which case there is not seldom a deficiency rather than a surplus, which deficiency is defrayed by the stewards themselves. to ensure a good ball considerable unanimity on the part of the county ladies is demanded, and they usually meet and consult together previous to fixing the date of the ball, to take into consideration the fixtures of neighbouring county balls, and so avoid the possibility of the said balls clashing with their own county ball, and also with a view of perhaps attracting the house parties of their more distant neighbours to swell the numbers at their own ball. house parties invited for a ball vary from ten to twenty-five, as the accommodation of a house admits. it is not the province of the stewards of a ball to find partners for either ladies or gentlemen, and therefore, if a lady does not form one of a large party, but merely attends a county ball with a relative or friend, and has not a large acquaintance amongst these present, she has very little chance of obtaining partners. young ladies do not now return to their chaperons after each dance, or after they have been to the tea-room. a gentleman should offer his arm to his partner at the conclusion of a dance to conduct her to the tea-room. in round dances, it is customary to take frequent pauses, and not to race round the ball-room until the music ceases. at country balls programmes are invariably used; at london balls they are never used, save at public balls. county balls usually commence between nine and ten o'clock, sometimes a ball is not opened until the most influential of the stewards and their parties have arrived, but oftener than not the two first dances are over before the arrival of the county magnates. it depends upon the length of the drive at what time people arrive at a ball; as a rule, they do not arrive later than . p.m. the usual mode of conveying a house-party to a ball is by private omnibus in addition to carriages and motor-cars; but when these are hired for the occasion the expense should be defrayed by the guests themselves. it is usual to leave a country ball not later than half-past two; the most fashionable people invariably do so about that hour. as a matter of course persons attending public balls take their ball tickets with them. =when attending a military ball=, or a hunt ball, it is usually the rule to take the invitation card and hand it to the sergeant or official in attendance. it is sometimes stated on the invitation card that this is to be done, although it is often taken for granted that persons will do so of their own accord. at balls given by private individuals, the invited guests should not bring their invitation cards with them, unless in the case of a _bal masqué_, where they are sometimes requested to do so. in giving a ball three weeks' notice is considered necessary, but with regard to a dance a short ten days' notice would suffice. =the invitation card= is the usual "at home" card, the word "dancing" being printed in the corner of the card. the word "ball" should never be used on an invitation card, however grand the entertainment; and the same form of invitation is employed either in the case of a small dance or of a large ball, though in the event of a small dance only being given, the words "small" or "early" should be written or printed on the invitation card. invitations to a ball should be issued in the name of the hostess only. when the host is a widower, with a grown-up daughter, the invitations should be issued in their joint names. when the host is a widower, or a bachelor, they should be issued in his name. invitations issued by officers, members of hunt committees, bachelors, etc., to their balls, either request the pleasure or the honour of mrs. ----'s company; but this formula should not be used by ladies when issuing invitations; the "at home" card should simply bear the word "dancing" on the bottom of the card, the hour and date filled in in the allotted space, the name of the guest written at the top of the card. in the case of a written invitation, it would be correct to use the words "ball" or "dance" when alluding to the entertainment about to be given, in a friendly note. a lady or gentleman might ask for an invitation for his or her friend to a ball given by an acquaintance, although the acquaintanceship were of a slight character; but a lady or gentleman should not ask for an invitation to a ball if unacquainted with the giver of it. the fact of mutual friends having received invitations to a ball gives no claim upon the hospitality of a stranger, therefore such requests are inadmissible. the proper course for a person to pursue in the event of desiring an invitation to a ball given by some one with whom he or she is unacquainted, is to request some mutual friend to obtain one; and this course is always followed. =cards should be left= by the guests present at a ball within the current week if possible. (see chapter iii.) =gratuities= should never be given by the guests to the servants of the house where a ball is given. =state balls.=--two state balls are annually given at buckingham palace during the london season by command of his majesty. invitations are issued by the lord chamberlain, but his majesty previously revises the list. when ladies and gentlemen attend a state ball at buckingham palace they make their way to the ball-room _unannounced_; and there is no official reception accorded to them, either by "royalty" or by the lord chamberlain. dancing does not commence until the arrival of the royal party, when the guests rise and remain standing while the royal quadrille--with which the ball opens--is being danced. the king and queen act as host and hostess on these occasions, but confine their attentions to those with whom they are personally acquainted. ladies attending a state ball at buckingham palace should wear the usual full evening dress; but they should not wear court trains, or plumes, or lappets. gentlemen attending state balls should wear uniform or full court dress--dress coat, breeches and silk stockings, shoes and buckles; trousers can only be worn as part of a uniform, and not with a court dress as generally worn at a levée. a gentleman intending to dance should remove his sword, otherwise he should not do so. when the court is in mourning, ladies attending a state ball should wear mourning according to the official notice which duly appears in the _gazette_. gentlemen should wear crape on the left arm, which is supplied in the cloak-room of the palace to those who have forgotten to provide themselves with it, as it is imperative, when the court is in mourning, that a band of crape should be worn at either state ball or state concert. the balls given by the princes and princesses of the blood royal are not state balls, therefore court dress is not worn by the gentlemen present. they act as host and hostess at the balls given by them and receive their guests, shaking hands with them as they are announced. ladies and gentlemen do not take their cards of invitation with them to buckingham palace. chapter xiii dinner giving and dining out =dinner= giving is perhaps the most important of all social observances, therefore dinner-parties rank first amongst all entertainments. dinner giving is so thoroughly understood to rest upon the principle of an equivalent, that those who do not give dinners hardly come within the category of diners out. this rule, however, is open to many exceptions in favour of privileged individuals, popular and prominent members of society whose presence at dinner-parties is appreciated and welcomed in most circles. dinner-parties are of more frequent occurrence, and are of more social significance, than any other form of entertainment. =dinner invitations.=--an invitation to dinner conveys a greater mark of esteem, or friendship and cordiality, towards the guest invited, than is conveyed by an invitation to any other social gathering, it being the highest compliment, socially speaking, that is offered by one person to another. it is also a civility that can be readily interchanged, which in itself gives it an advantage over all other civilities. the orthodox dinner giver must necessarily possess a certain amount of wealth, and wealth and wit do not always go hand in hand. oftener than not, the former rather overweights the latter; hence, the introduction of a lighter element in the form of amusing people whose _métier_ in life it is to be amusing and to appear amused. dinner giving is in itself not only a test of the position occupied in society by the dinner giver, but it is also a direct road to obtaining a recognised place in society. a means of enlarging a limited acquaintance and a reputation for giving good dinners is in itself a passport to fashionable society. dinner giving, in the fullest sense of the word, is a science not easily acquired, so much depending on the talent which the host or hostess may possess for organising dinner-parties. when a large dinner-party is contemplated, it is usual to give three weeks' notice, but of late this notice has been extended to four, five, and even six weeks. diners out are rather inclined to rebel against this innovation, considering that an invitation bearing the date of a month hence pledges them to remain in town, and as it were controls their movements, for the acceptance of an invitation is in the eyes of diners out a binding obligation; only ill-health, family bereavement, or some all-important reason justifies its being set on one side or otherwise evaded. those inconsiderate enough to make trivial excuses at the last moment are not often retained on the dinner-list of a host or hostess. dinner invitations are issued in the joint names of host and hostess. the master of the house occupies a prominent position amongst his guests, when dispensing hospitality as a "dinner giver." from five to ten days' notice is considered sufficient for invitations to small and unceremonious dinner-parties. printed cards are in general use in town for issuing dinner invitations, and can be purchased from any stationer; these cards only require to be filled in with the names of host and hostess and guests, date, hour, and address. the united names of the host and hostess should be written in the space left for that purpose. thus, "mr. and mrs. a.," and the name or names of the guests in the next vacant space. when invitations are issued for small dinner-parties, it is more usual to write notes than to make use of printed cards. acceptances or refusals of dinner invitations should be sent with as little delay as possible after the invitations have been received. it is a want of courtesy on the part of a person invited not to do so, as a hostess is otherwise left in doubt as to whether the person invited intends dining with her or not, and is consequently unable to fill up the vacant place with an eligible substitute; thus rendering her dinner-party an ill-assorted one. an answer to an invitation cannot be solicited in a subsequent note; it is therefore incumbent upon the invited person to dispatch an answer within a day or two at least. dinner invitations are either sent by post or by a servant, and the answers are also conveyed in a like manner. dinner invitations are invariably sent out by the hostess. it is not usual in town to invite more than three members of one family; it is now the custom to ask young ladies with their parents to dinner-parties. =receiving dinner-guests.=--the guests should arrive within fifteen minutes of the hour named on the invitation card. on no occasion is punctuality more imperative than in the case of dining out; formerly many allowed themselves great latitude in this respect, and a long wait for the tardy guests was the result. a host and hostess frequently waited over half an hour for expected guests. but now punctuality has become the rule in the highest circles, and dinner is served within twenty minutes of the arrival of the first guest. in general, people much given to dining out make a point of arriving in good time; but there are many in society who presume upon their position, and are proverbially unpunctual, knowing that in the height of the season a hostess would wait half an hour rather than sit down to dinner without them; but this want of consideration soon becomes known in their different sets, and is always taken into account when "their company is requested at dinner." in france, it is not the rule, or the custom, to wait dinner for late arrivals, and the dinner is served punctually to the hour named in the invitation. the dinner-hour varies from eight to nine, although perhaps . is the most usual hour. in the country it ranges from . to . . punctuality on the part of the guests enables the hostess to make any introductions she may consider advisable before dinner is served. the host and hostess should be in readiness to receive their guests in the drawing-room at the hour specified on the card. on arrival, a lady should take off her cloak in the cloak-room, or should leave it in the hall with the servant in attendance, before entering the drawing-room. a gentleman should leave his overcoat and hat in the gentlemen's cloak-room, or in the hall. at large dinner-parties, the butler is stationed on the staircase, and announces the guests as they arrive. at small dinner-parties, or where only one man-servant is kept, the servant precedes the guest or guests on their arrival, to the drawing-room. the guests should then give their names to the servant, that he may announce them. a lady and gentleman, on being announced, should not enter the drawing-room arm-in-arm or side by side. the lady or ladies, if more than one, should enter the room in advance of the gentleman, although the servant announces "mr., mrs., and miss a." the host and hostess should come forward and shake hands with each guest on arrival. the ladies should at once seat themselves, but gentlemen either stand about the room and talk to each other, or sit down after a wait of some minutes. when a lady is acquainted with many of the guests present, she should not make her way at once to shake hands with all, but should make an opportunity to do so in an unobtrusive manner; it would be sufficient to recognise them by a nod or a smile in the mean time. a lady should bow to any gentleman she knows, and he should cross the room to shake hands with her at once if disengaged. at a small dinner-party, where the guests are unacquainted, the hostess should introduce the persons of highest rank to each other; but at a large dinner-party, she would not do so, unless she had some especial reason for making the introduction. in the country, introductions at dinner-parties are far oftener made than in town. precedency is strictly observed at all dinner-parties. (see chapter v.) =sending guests in to dinner.=--the host should take the lady of highest rank present in to dinner, and the gentleman of highest rank should take the hostess. this rule is absolute, unless the lady or gentleman of highest rank is related to the host or hostess, in which case his or her rank would be in abeyance, out of courtesy to the other guests. a husband and wife, or a father and daughter, or a mother and son, should not be sent in to dinner together. a host and hostess should, if possible, invite an equal number of ladies and gentlemen. it is usual to invite two or more gentlemen than there are ladies, in order that the married ladies should not be obliged to go in to dinner with each other's husbands only. thus, mrs. a. and mr. b., mr. b. and mrs. a., mrs. b. should be taken in to dinner by mr. c., and mr. a. should take mrs. g., and so on. when ladies are in a majority at a dinner-party to the extent of two or three, the ladies of highest rank should be taken in to dinner by the gentlemen present, and the remaining ladies should follow by themselves; but such an arrangement is unusual and undesirable, though sometimes unavoidable when the dinner-party is an impromptu one, for instance, and the notice given has been but a short one. if there should be one gentleman short of the number required, the hostess frequently goes in to dinner by herself, following in the wake of the last couple. the usual mode of sending guests in to dinner is for the host or hostess to inform each gentleman, shortly after his arrival, which of the ladies he is to take in to dinner. no "choice" is given to any gentleman as to which of the ladies he would prefer taking in to dinner, it being simply a question of precedency. should any difficulty arise as to the order in which the guests should follow the host to the dining-room, the hostess, knowing the precedency due to each of her guests, should indicate to each gentleman when it is his turn to descend to the dining-room. he should then offer his arm to the lady whom the host had previously desired him to take in to dinner. dinner is announced by the butler or man-servant. when the guests have arrived, or when the host desires dinner to be served, he should ring or inform the servant accordingly. on dinner being announced, the host should give his right arm to the lady of highest rank present, and, with her, lead the way to the dining-room, followed by the lady second in rank, with a gentleman second in rank and so on. the gentleman of highest rank present should follow last with the hostess. when the second couple are about to leave the drawing-room, the hostess frequently requests each gentleman in turn to follow with a lady according to the precedency due to each. thus, "mr. a., will you take mrs. b.?" this also answers the purpose of an introduction, should the couple be unacquainted with each other, and the hostess has not found an opportunity of introducing them to each other on their arrival. when a case of precedency occurs, in which either the lady or gentleman must waive their right of precedence, that of the gentleman gives way to that of the lady. (see chapter v.) a gentleman should offer his right arm to a lady on leaving the drawing-room. ladies and gentlemen should not proceed to the dining-room in silence, but should at once enter into conversation with each other. (see the work entitled "the art of conversing.") on entering the dining-room the lady whom the host has taken in to dinner should seat herself at his right hand. on the continent this custom is reversed, and it is etiquette for the lady to sit at the left hand of the gentleman by whom she is taken in to dinner. the host should remain standing in his place, at the bottom of the table, until the guests have taken their seats, and should motion the various couples as they enter the dining-room to the places he wishes them to occupy at the table. this is the most usual method of placing the guests at the dinner-table. when the host does not indicate where they are to sit, they sit near to the host or hostess according to precedency. the host and hostess should arrange beforehand the places they wish their guests to occupy at the dinner-table. if a host did not indicate to the guests the various places he wished them to occupy, the result would probably be that husbands and wives would be seated side by side, or uncongenial people would sit together. the custom of putting a card with the name of the guest on the table in the place allotted to each individual guest is frequently followed at large dinner-parties, and in some instances the name of each guest is printed on a menu and placed in front of each cover. the host and the lady taken in to dinner by him should sit at the bottom of the table. he should sit in the centre at the bottom of the table and place the lady whom he has taken down at his right hand. the same rule applies to the hostess. she should sit in the centre at the top of the table, the gentleman by whom she has been taken in to dinner being placed at her left hand. the lady second in rank should sit at the host's left hand. each lady should sit at the right hand of the gentleman by whom she is taken in to dinner. it is solely a matter of inclination whether a lady and gentleman, who have gone in to dinner together, converse with each other only, or with their right-and left-hand neighbours also, but they usually find some topic of conversation in common, otherwise a dinner-party would prove but a succession of _tête-à-tête_. =the menus= are placed the length of the table, on an average one to two persons or occasionally one to each person, and the menu cards are elaborate or simple, according to individual taste, and are purchased printed for the purpose, having a space for the names of the dishes to be filled in, which is usually done by the mistress of the house, unless the establishment is on a large scale, it being usual to write them out in french. fanciful menu holders are much in use. the use of menus would be pretentious at a small dinner-party when there is but little choice of dishes; but when there is a choice of dishes a menu is indispensable. =the usual and fashionable mode of serving dinner= is called _dîner à la russe_, although at small or friendly dinners the host sometimes prefers to carve the joint himself in the first course, and the birds in the second course. but dinner-tables, whether for dining _à la russe_, or for dining _en famille_, are invariably arranged in the same style, the difference being merely the extent of the display made as regards flowers, plate and glass, which are the accessories of the dining-table. when the host helps the soup, a small ladleful for each person is the proper quantity; a soup-plate should not be filled with soup. when the party is a small one, and the joints or birds are carved by the host, the portions should be handed to the guests in the order in which they are seated, although occasionally the ladies are helped before the gentlemen. the rule at all dinner-parties is for the servant to commence serving by handing the dishes to the lady seated at the host's right hand, then to the lady seated at the host's left hand, and from thence the length of the table to each guest in the order seated, irrespective of sex. double _entrées_ should be provided at large dinner-parties, and the servants should commence handing the dishes at both sides of the table simultaneously. _dîner à la russe_ is the russian fashion introduced into society many years ago. the whole of the dinner is served from a side-table, no dishes whatever being placed on the table save dishes of fruit. =dinner-table decorations.=--as regards the most correct style of dinner-table decorations, they offer great diversity of arrangement. high centre pieces and low centre pieces. low specimen glasses placed the length of the table and trails of creepers and flowers laid on the table-cloth itself are some of the prevailing features of the day, but table decorations are essentially a matter of taste rather than of etiquette, and the extent of these decorations depends very much upon the size of the plate chest and the length of the purse of the dinner giver. the fruit for dessert is usually arranged down the centre of the table, amidst the flowers and plate. some dinner-tables are also adorned with a variety of french conceits besides fruit and flowers; other dinner-tables are decorated with flowers and plate only, the dessert not being placed on the table at all; but this latter mode can only be adopted by those who can make a lavish display of flowers and plate in the place of fruit. as regards lighting the dinner table. electric light is now in general use in town, and more or less in the country when possible. when not available, lamps and wax candles are used as heretofore. the shades in use should be carefully chosen as they add greatly to the comfort of the guests and to the success of the lighting. silver candlesticks are often fitted with small electric lamps, and handsome silver lamps are brought into use in a similar manner for the dinner table. the term "cover" signifies the place laid at table for each person. it consists of a table-spoon for soup, fish knife and fork, two knives, two large forks, and glasses for wines given. for such arrangements see chapter "waiting at dinner" in the work entitled "waiting at table." sherry is always drunk after soup, hock with the fish after the soup. champagne is drunk immediately after the first _entrée_ has been served, and during the remainder of dinner until dessert. claret, sherry, port, and madeira are the wines drunk at dessert, and not champagne, as it is essentially a dinner wine. when liqueurs are given they are handed after the ices. =dinner-table etiquette.=--soup should be eaten with a table-spoon and not with a dessert-spoon, it would be out of place to use a dessert-spoon for that purpose. dessert-spoons, as their name implies, are intended for other purposes, such as for eating fruit-tarts, custard-puddings, etc., or any sweet that is not sufficiently substantial to be eaten with a fork. fish should be eaten with a silver fork when possible, otherwise with a silver fish knife and fork. all made dishes, such as _quenelles_, _rissoles_, patties, etc., should be eaten with a fork only, and not with a knife and fork. for sweetbreads and cutlets, etc., a knife and fork are requisite; and, as a matter of course, for poultry, game, etc. in eating asparagus, a knife and fork should be used, and the points should be cut off and eaten with a fork as is sea-kale, etc. salad should be eaten with a knife and fork; it is served on salad plates, which are placed beside the dinner-plates. cucumber is eaten off the dinner-plate, and not off a separate plate. peas should be eaten with a fork. in eating game or poultry, the bone of either wing or leg should not be touched with the fingers, but the meat cut close off the bone; and if a wing it is best to sever it at the joint, by which means the meat is cut off far more easily. pastry should be eaten with a fork, but in the case of a fruit tart, a dessert-spoon should be used as well as a fork, but only for the purpose of conveying the fruit and juice to the mouth; and in the case of stone fruit--cherries, damsons, plums, etc.--either the dessert-spoon or fork should be raised to the lips to receive the stones, which should be placed at the side of the plate; but when the fruit stones are of larger size, they should be separated from the fruit with the fork and spoon, and left on the plate, and not put into the mouth; and whenever it is possible to separate the stones from the fruit it is best to do so. jellies, blancmanges, ice puddings, etc., should be eaten with a fork, as should be all sweets sufficiently substantial to admit of it. when eating cheese, small morsels of the cheese should be placed with the knife on small morsels of bread, and the two conveyed to the mouth with the thumb and finger, the piece of bread being the morsel to hold, as cheese should not be taken up in the fingers, and should not be eaten off the point of the knife.[ ] the finger-glass should be removed from the ice-plate and placed on the left-hand side of the dessert-plate. when ices are not given, the d'oyley should be removed with the finger-glass and placed beneath it. when eating grapes, the half-closed hand should be placed to the mouth, and the stones and skins allowed to fall into the fingers, and placed on the side of the plate. some persons bend the head so as to allow of the stones and skins of the grapes falling on the side of the plate; but this latter way is old-fashioned, and seldom followed. cherries and other small stone-fruit should be eaten in the way grapes are eaten, also gooseberries. when strawberries and raspberries, etc., are not eaten with cream, they should be eaten from the stalks; when eaten with cream, a dessert-spoon should be used to remove them from the stalks. when served in the american fashion without stalks, both fork and spoon should be used. pears and apples should be peeled and cut into halves and quarters with a fruit-knife and fork, as should peaches, nectarines, and apricots. melons should be eaten with a spoon and fork. pines with knife and fork. the dessert is handed to the guests in the order in which the dinner has been served.[ ] when the guests have been helped to wine, and the servants have left the dining-room, the host should pass the decanters to his guests, commencing with the gentleman nearest to him. it is not the fashion for gentlemen to drink wine with each other either at dinner or dessert, and the guest fills his glass or not, according to inclination. ladies are not supposed to require a second glass of wine at dessert, and passing the decanters is principally for the gentlemen. if a lady should require a second glass of wine at dessert, the gentleman seated next to her would fill her glass; she should not help herself to wine. after the wine has been passed once around the table, or about ten minutes after the servants have left the dining-room, the hostess should give the signal for the ladies to leave the dining-room, by bowing to the lady of highest rank present, seated at the host's right hand. she should then rise from her seat, as should all the ladies on seeing her do so. the gentlemen should rise also, and remain standing by their chairs until the ladies have quitted the room, which they should do in the order in which they have entered it, the lady of highest rank leading the way, the hostess following last. the host, or the gentleman nearest the door, should open it for the ladies to pass out, and close it after them. when the ladies have left the dining-room, the gentlemen should close up as near to the host as possible, so as to render conversation general. the wines usually drunk by gentlemen after dinner are claret of a fine quality, and port. the ladies on leaving the dining-room return to the drawing-room. coffee should be almost immediately brought to the drawing-room. the coffee-cups containing coffee should be brought on a silver salver, with a cream-jug and a basin of crystallised sugar. in large country houses coffee is sometimes brought in a silver coffee-pot, and the lady would then pour out her own coffee, the servant holding the salver the meanwhile. coffee should be taken a few minutes later to the dining-room, and either handed to the gentlemen, or placed on the table, that they may help themselves (see the work previously referred to). a very general plan is, after the wine has gone round once or twice, for the host to offer cigarettes, which are smoked before the gentlemen join the ladies in the drawing-room. after coffee, the gentleman of highest rank should leave the dining-room first. the host would not propose an adjournment to the drawing-room, until he observed a wish to do so on the part of his guests, but there is no hard and fast rule on this head. it is not now the fashion for gentlemen to sit over their wine beyond fifteen or twenty minutes at the utmost, instead of as formerly, from three-quarters of an hour to an hour, a change much appreciated by hostesses. on the continent the gentlemen accompany the ladies to the drawing-room, and do not remain in the dining-room as in england. the gentleman of highest rank present could suggest an adjournment to the drawing-room within a quarter of an hour if he thought proper to do so. if the other guests were engaged in a discussion in which he did not wish to take part, having suggested the adjournment, he could leave the dining-room to join the ladies in the drawing-room; but as a rule, the gentlemen leave the dining-room together, the host following last. the host should ring the dining-room bell before leaving the room, as an intimation to the butler that the gentlemen have left the room. at ceremonious dinner-parties in town neither music nor cards are introduced during the usual half-hour passed in the drawing-room before the hour for departure. at country-house dinner-parties music or round games of cards are in request. =departure after dinner.=--there is no rule as to the order in which the guests should take their leave. half-past ten is the usual hour for general departure; and the butler announces the several carriages as they arrive to the guests in the drawing-room. but if any lady wished to inquire if her carriage had arrived, she should ask the hostess's permission to do so; and the bell would be rung for the purpose of making the enquiry. the same remark applies to ordering a cab: the lady should ask the hostess if one might be ordered for her. the hostess should shake hands with all her guests on their departure, rising from her seat to do so. each guest on departure should shake hands with both host and hostess. if, on leaving the room, acquaintances should pass each other, they should wish each other good-night, but they should not make the tour of the rooms for the purpose of so doing. the host should conduct one or two of the principal of his lady guests to their carriages. the ladies should put on their cloaks in the cloak-room, the host waiting in the hall meanwhile. a gentleman related to the host or hostess, or a friend of the family, could offer to conduct a lady to her carriage if the host were otherwise engaged. =gratuities= should never be offered by the guests at a dinner-party to the servants in attendance. gentlemen should not offer fees to the men-servants, neither should ladies to the lady's-maid in attendance. the guests should call on the hostess within a week or ten days after a dinner-party. if "not at home," a married lady should leave one of her own cards and two of her husband's; a widow should leave one of her own cards; a bachelor or a widower should leave two cards. the rule as to calling after dinner-parties is greatly relaxed between intimate friends, and the call often omitted altogether; and this more particularly as regards gentlemen, whose occupations during the day are considered good and sufficient reasons for not calling. =country dinner-parties.=--in the country, new acquaintances, if neighbours, should be asked to dinner within a month of the first call if possible, and the return invitation should be given within the following month. when guests are assembled at a country house, they are sent in to dinner, on the first evening, according to their individual precedence; but on subsequent evenings the gentlemen frequently draw lots to decide which lady they shall have the pleasure of taking in to dinner, otherwise a lady and gentleman would go in to dinner together five or six consecutive times, according to the length of the visit, but this is more a practice with people who march with the times, than with what are termed "old-fashioned people." when a party is varied by additional dinner-guests each evening, drawing lots gives way to precedency, it being too familiar a practice to be adopted at a large dinner-party. =saying grace=, both before and after dinner, is a matter of feeling rather than of etiquette. it used to be very much the custom to say "grace," but of late years it is oftener omitted than not, especially at large dinner-parties in town. in the country, when a clergyman is present, he should be asked to say grace. when grace is said by the host, it is said in a low voice, and in a very few words; the guests inclining their heads the while. it was no rapid revolutionary change in manners that brought about the difference that now exists between the elizabethan and present eras; no polished mentor came forward to teach that it was not the nicest and cleanest thing to do, to put knives into the salt, to dip fingers into plates, or to spread butter with the thumb; on the contrary, these things righted themselves little by little, step by step, until the present code of manners was arrived at. but it is quite possible that a hundred years hence it will be discovered that the manners of the present century offered wide scope for improvement. in the meantime these rules of etiquette observed in society are adhered to and followed by those who do not wish to appear singular, eccentric, old-fashioned, unconventional, or any other adjective that the temper of their judges may induce them to apply to them for committing solecisms, either small or great. =married ladies, as a rule, dine out with their husbands=, and do not accept invitations to large dinners when their husbands are unable to accompany them. there are, of course, exceptions to this rule, and circumstances sometimes arise when it is greatly relaxed; but even in this case it would be in favour of small and friendly dinners rather than large ones. during any temporary absence of her husband, a lady would accept invitations to dine with her relatives and intimate friends, though she might refuse invitations to large dinners given by acquaintances; but, as a rule, when it is well known that the head of a house is away for any length of time, invitations are seldom sent to the wife by givers of large dinners. when young ladies are invited to dinner they accompany their father, mother or brother; but occasionally, when a young ladies' party is given by a friend of their parents', the young ladies are invited alone, and they should either go with their maid in a cab or by themselves in their father's carriage. footnotes: [ ] respecting the arrangement of the dinner table for dessert, see the work entitled "waiting at table." [ ] see the work entitled "waiting at table." chapter xiv dinner-table etiquette fashion has its freaks and its vagaries, and in relation to inanimate objects these freaks and vagaries are but transitory and evanescent, but when they touch upon manners and modes they become a conventionality and a custom perhaps for many a year. changes and innovations, slight as they are, are more subtle than sudden, and, paradoxical as it may seem, they are as important as they are insignificant; still it is difficult to believe that fingers once did duty for forks, and that it was not customary for a host to supply his guests with forks, who, if fastidious enough to require them, were expected to bring them in their pockets. there are here and there people in society who affect a few eccentricities of manner, but these whims at all times take the form of originalities and not of vulgarities; and even then are only indulged in by those whose position in society is secure. =as regards dinner-table etiquette.=--when a lady has taken her seat at the dinner-table, she should at once remove her gloves; although occasionally long elbow gloves are not removed during dinner, but this is conspicuous and inconvenient. she should unfold her serviette and place it on her lap. it is immaterial whether she places the bread on the right or left-hand side of the cover when taking it from the serviette. a gentleman should do the same with his serviette and bread, placing the one across his knees, and the other at his right or left hand. when a lady is some little time taking off her gloves, she should remove her serviette before doing so: otherwise a servant would offer her soup before she had made room for the soup-plate by removing the serviette, and she should decide quickly as to which of the two soups handed to her she will take, so as not to keep the servant waiting; and so on through every course throughout the dinner as regards fish, meat, etc. =the guests should consult the menu= on first sitting down to dinner. eating soup comes first under notice. in olden days it was customary to drink it out of a basin. in these days no one "drinks" soup, it is "eaten"; whether it be mock turtle or the clearest julienne, it is eaten out of a soup-plate at dinner, and with a table-spoon. there is a reason for this choice of spoons; soup is nothing if it is not hot, and as it is the custom to give only about half a ladleful to each person, it is eaten quicker, and therefore hotter, with a large spoon than with a small one. there is also a good and sufficient reason for small quantities of soup being given in lieu of large ones, viz. the extent of the menu; and when a plateful of soup is handed to a guest accustomed to the regulation supply, he fears that he is expected to dine off it, and that there is nothing much to follow. again, small helpings require a smaller quantity of soup to be provided, and a servant is less likely to spill plates containing a little soup than plates that are half full. at ball suppers, when soup is served in soup-plates, it is also eaten with a table-spoon, but not when served in small cups. many years ago it was fashionable to eat fish with a fork and a crust of bread; previous to this a table-knife and fork were considered the proper things to use for this purpose. it was then discovered that a steel knife gave an unpalatable flavour to the fish, and a crust of bread was substituted for the knife. this fashion lasted a considerable time, in spite of the fingers being thus brought unpleasantly near to the plate, and to this day old-fashioned people have a predilection for that crust of bread. one evening a well-known diner-out discarded his crust of bread, and ate his fish with two silver forks; this notion found such general favour that society dropped the humble crust and took up a second fork. this fashion had its little day, but at length the two forks were found heavy for the purpose and not altogether satisfactory, and were superseded by the dainty and convenient little silver fish-knife and fork which are now in general use. small pieces of fish should always be given, and two different sorts of fish should not be placed on the same plate. =when oysters are given= they precede the soup, and should be eaten with a dinner-fork, not with a fish-fork. in eating oysters the shell should be steadied on the plate with the fingers of the left hand, the oysters should not be cut, but should be eaten whole. very many ladies do not eat oysters at dinner simply because they do not like them, while others refuse them under the impression that it is more ladylike not to eat them. perhaps with regard to young ladies it is a taste to be acquired. some men are very, if not over, fastidious, about the appetites displayed by ladies, and would have them reject the _entrées_ and dine upon a slice of chicken and a spoonful of jelly. others, on the contrary, respect a good appetite as giving proof of good health and good digestion. there is of course a medium in all things, and as large dinners are ordered mainly with a view to please the palates of men with epicurean tastes, it is not expected that ladies should eat of the most highly seasoned and richest of the dishes given, but should rather select the plainest on the menu. this remark more particularly applies to young ladies and young married ladies, whilst middle-aged and elderly ladies are at liberty to do pretty much as they please, without provoking comment or even observation. =with reference to entrées=, some are eaten with a knife and fork, others with a fork only. all _entrées_ that offer any resistance to a fork require the aid of both knife and fork, such as cutlets, _filet de b[oe]uf_, sweetbreads, etc., but when _rissoles_, patties, _quenelles_, boneless curry, _vol-au-vents_, _timbales_, etc., are eaten, the fork only should be used. in the case of the lighter _entrées_, the contact of the knife is supposed to militate against their delicate flavour; thus, for these _bonnes bouches_ the fork is all-sufficient wherewith to divide and eat them. the leg of a chicken, pheasant, duck, or wild duck should never be given to a guest save on those occasions when there are more guests present than there is meat from breasts and wings to offer them. under these circumstances the carver is reduced to the necessity of falling back upon the legs of the birds, but in this case only the upper part of the thigh should be given, thus a guest has little difficulty in cutting the meat from the bone. a wing of a bird is usually given to a lady. formerly it was thought a correct thing to sever the wing at the joint and then to cut the meat from the bone; but this requires a certain amount of strength in the wrist, and dexterity, should the bird not be in its _première jeunesse_. as regards small pigeons, golden plovers, snipe, quails, larks, etc., a whole bird is given to each guest, and the proper way to eat these birds is to cut the meat from the breast and wings and to eat each morsel at the moment of cutting it; the bird should not be turned over and over on the plate, or cut in half or otherwise dissected. the legs of bordeaux pigeons are not, as a rule, eaten, and half a bird only is given, as there is sufficient on the wing and breast to satisfy an ordinary second-course appetite. when the legs of smaller birds are eaten, such as snipe or golden plover, the meat should be cut off as from the breast or wing. young girls, as a rule, seldom eat a second course delicacy of this description; a little chicken or pheasant on the contrary is usually accepted by them. =when large potatoes are served= in their skins a salad-plate should be handed at the same time whereon to place them. =when asparagus first comes into season= it is often given in the second course instead of in the first, in which case it is eaten as a separate dish. when handed with meat or poultry it should be eaten on the same plate containing either. in eating asparagus, some elderly gentlemen still adhere to the fashion of their youth and hold the stalks in their fingers, but the younger generation cut off the points with a knife and fork. sea-kale also is given in the second course when first in season, and should be eaten with a knife and fork. mushrooms are also eaten with a knife and fork. it need hardly be said that it would be a vulgarity to eat peas with a knife, although those who reside abroad, or who are in the habit of travelling on the continent, are not unaccustomed to seeing this done by foreigners who are well-bred men. artichokes are, it may be said, an awkward and untidy vegetable to eat; they are only given in the second course as a separate vegetable; the outside leaves should be removed with the knife and fork, and the inner leaves which surround the heart, or head of the artichoke should be conveyed to the mouth with the fingers and sucked dry; epicures consider this vegetable a dainty morsel, but at dinner-parties young ladies should not attempt to eat these artichokes. savouries, when possible, should be eaten with a fork, but occasionally a knife also is of imperative use. =as regards sweets=, _compôtes_ of fruit and fruit tarts should be eaten with a dessert-spoon and fork, as should those dishes where juice or syrup prevails to the extent of rendering a dessert-spoon necessary. but whenever it is possible to use a fork in preference to a spoon it is always better to do so. jellies, creams, blancmanges, ice puddings, etc., should be eaten with a fork. as a matter of course, young ladies do not eat cheese at dinner-parties. chapter xv evening parties =evening parties= are styled receptions or "at homes" according to the number of guests invited. in official and political circles they are invariably styled "receptions," but when given on a smaller scale in general society they are styled "at homes." =invitations= to evening parties should be issued on "at home" cards. the name of the person invited should be written at the top of the card at the right-hand corner, the words "at home" being printed beneath the name of the lady issuing the invitation, the day and date beneath the words "at home," the hour beneath the date. the address should be printed at the bottom of the card. when music is to be given it should be mentioned on the "at home" card, thus, "music." the hour varies from to o'clock; in private circles or . is the usual hour; in official circles . or o'clock. when a foreign royal personage is expected, or a foreigner of distinction, or a personage possessing public interest, the words "to meet her serene highness princess d.," or "to meet count c." should be written at the top of the invitation cards. when a reception or "at home" follows a dinner-party given by the hostess, it is not usual to provide any special amusement for the guests. but when an "at home" does not follow a dinner-party, it is usual to provide some sort of amusement for the guests, such as professional vocal or instrumental music. the guests are expected to arrive from half an hour to an hour of the time mentioned on the invitation card, although it is optional when they do so. =receiving the guests.=--the hostess should receive her guests at the head of the staircase, where she usually remains until the principal of her guests have arrived; while the host welcomes the guests in the drawing-room itself. receptions or "at homes" usually terminate shortly before one o'clock, save on saturdays, when the hour of departure is o'clock precisely. =making introductions.=--a hostess should use her own discretion as regards making introductions. when a royal personage is present the most distinguished of the guests should be presented by the host or hostess. when a celebrity is present introductions should also be made; and as regards general introductions they should be made whenever the hostess judges it expedient to do so, and the principal guests when unacquainted should be introduced to each other when the opportunity occurs. =going in to supper.=--the host should take the lady of highest rank in to supper. when a royal princess is present the host should take her in to supper. when a royal prince is present he should take the hostess in to supper. (see chapter v.) it is optional whether the hostess follows with the gentleman of highest rank present, unless a foreign prince is present, when she should follow the host, and in the case of a royal prince being present she should precede the host. when a royal prince or princess or a serene highness is present a table should be set apart for the host and hostess and royal party, and any among the guests whom the royal visitors may desire should join them at supper. when the supper-room is not sufficiently large to accommodate the whole of the guests at the same time, the most distinguished guests should go in first. when the host is informed that supper is served he should tell the principal gentlemen present which of the ladies he wishes them to take into supper, and should himself lead the way with the lady of highest rank present. the hostess should also assist in sending the principal guests in to supper, and when the general company observe the move towards the supper-room, they should follow in the same direction. when the general company are apparently not aware that the supper-room is open, the hostess should ask the various gentlemen to take the ladies in to supper, and should herself lead the way with one of the gentlemen. when the general company find the supper-room crowded they should return to the drawing-room for a quarter of an hour or so; but the hostess should arrange for some instrumental or vocal performance to commence when supper is first served, so as to occupy the attention of the guests who remain in the drawing-room. the guests frequently do not return to the drawing-room after supper, but go to the cloak-room for their cloaks and wraps, and thence to their carriages. it is not usual to take leave of the host and hostess at receptions. =royal guests present.=--when a royal personage is present the host should conduct her to her carriage. when a foreign prince is present the host should accompany him to the hall door. =tea and light refreshments= should be served during the evening in the library, or in an adjacent apartment. supper should be served at twelve o'clock, in the dining-room, and should be similar in character to a ball supper. =invitations to bridge parties= are issued on "at home" cards when the guests number upwards of forty, and on visiting cards when a lesser number is invited. =the invitation form= is, "mrs. a---- at home" in both instances. the day, date, and hour are put beneath the words "at home," and "bridge" in the corner of the cards opposite the address. the usual hour for holding these evening receptions is o'clock p.m., which allows of three hours' play before midnight. the guests arrive very punctually, rather before than after the hour named on the invitation cards. the guests comprise an equal number of both sexes, as husbands and wives are invited together when both are known to be bridge players, and bachelors who do not disdain playing for small stakes are in great request. also unmarried ladies of a certain age; not girls in their teens. prizes are given in some houses to the conquering players. one for the ladies and one for the gentlemen, and occasionally a second prize for the second best player of either sex. this is done when playing for money does not commend itself to a host and hostess. the prizes consist for the most part of useful articles. for instance, a box of gloves, a box of bon-bons, a case of eau d'cologne, a card-case, a bag purse, and so on, all of which are acceptable to ladies; and a box of cigars or cigarettes, a silver pocket-flask, a silver-mounted stick or umbrella, are prizes the men winners are pleased to accept. =the bridge tables= at which the guests are to sit are numbered, and the hostess arranges by whom they are to be occupied. the names--four in number for each table--are written or printed with the number of the table upon small cards and given to the guests by the hostess on arrival. this is done that good players may be placed together, and to save confusion and loss of time in seating them at the various tables. =the refreshments= provided consist in the first instance of "coffee," which is brought into the card-room or drawing-room and handed to the guests. no eatables are given with this after-dinner coffee. a supper is given either at the conclusion of the play at o'clock--this being the more usual plan--or at . , after which play is resumed for another hour or so; but the latter is more of a provincial custom than a town one, and is intended for those whose dinner hour is an early one-- . , perhaps. when a supper is not given, very good light refreshments are substituted for it, including cups of hot soup in the winter months. =going in to supper= is arranged as far as possible on the following lines, if precedence does not prevent its being carried out. the players at each table who are partners when supper is served go in together. the host leads the way with his partner, and all follow, the hostess and her partner going last. =cards should be left= within a week or ten days after a reception. a married lady should leave one of her own and two of her husband's cards. a widow should leave one of her own cards. a bachelor or widower should leave two of his cards. (see chapter iii.) chapter xvi weddings and wedding luncheons =afternoon weddings= are invariably solemnised at . o'clock. only very quiet weddings take place in the morning hours. formerly, it was only the few who were in a position to obtain special licences who could have afternoon weddings. =marriage by "banns"= is greatly in favour in general society. the banns must be published three consecutive weeks previous to the marriage in the parish in which the bridegroom resides, and also in that in which the bride resides, and both should reside fifteen days in their respective parishes previous to the banns being published. =marriages by licence.=--when a marriage is solemnised by licence the cost, with fees and stamps, amounts to £ . this should be obtained at the faculty office, or at the vicar-general's office, doctors' commons, and is available at any church in the parish where one of the parties has resided for fifteen days previous to the application being made for the licence, either in town or country. when the licence is obtained in the country through a clerical surrogate the cost varies, according to the diocese, from £ _s._ to £ _s._ _d._ =special licences= can only be obtained from the archbishop of canterbury, after application at the faculty office, and an especial reason must be given for the application, and one that will meet with the archbishop's approval. the fees for a special marriage licence average £ _s._ _d._ =the fees= to the officiating clergymen vary considerably, according to the position and means of the bridegroom, from £ _s._ to £ _s._, as the inclination of the bridegroom may dictate. the fee to the verger is subject to a like variation, commencing at _s._ _d._ all fees relating to a marriage should be defrayed by the bridegroom, and paid by him, or by the best man on his behalf, in the vestry of the church, previous to the ceremony; immediately after it, or some days earlier. =the etiquette observed at weddings= is invariably the same whether the wedding takes place in the morning or in the afternoon, or whether it is a grand wedding or a comparatively small one, whether the guests number two hundred or whether they number twenty. =the invitations= should be issued from three weeks to a fortnight before the wedding-day. the wedding luncheon or wedding reception should be given by the parents of the bride or by her nearest relative, and the invitations should be issued in the names of both parents. the invitations should be issued in notes printed in ink; they are now seldom printed in silver. the form should be as follows: "mr. and mrs. ---- request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. ----'s company at the marriage of their daughter helen with mr. john s----, at st. peter's church, hanover square, on tuesday, may th, at . o'clock, and afterwards at ---- square. r.s.v.p." if a stepdaughter, it should be "at the marriage of mrs. a----'s daughter helen b----." =wedding presents.=--every one who is invited to a wedding invariably makes the bride or bridegroom a present; it is the received rule to do so. many send presents before the invitations are sent out--as soon as the engagement is made known, if it is not to be a long one. there is no rule as to the time before the wedding-day when the present should be sent; but invitations are usually sent to those who have given presents, even though they live at a considerable distance, and may not be able to attend the wedding. wedding presents are displayed on tables of various sizes, according to their number, and if very numerous and valuable, it is not unusual to exhibit them at an afternoon tea, given for the purpose on the day previous to the wedding. each present should bear the card of the giver attached to it. presents of silver plate should be placed on a table covered with dark cloth or velvet. it is not unusual to surround the presents with flowers, notably roses, and this is often done by persons of artistic tastes. =the bridegroom should provide= the wedding-ring and the bridal bouquet. the bouquets for the bridesmaids are also the gift of the bridegroom, and should be sent to them on the morning of the wedding. he is also expected to make a present to each bridesmaid--either a brooch, a locket, a bracelet, or a fan, which should either be sent the day before the wedding or on the morning of the wedding-day. the bridegroom should provide the motor-car to convey himself and his bride from the church to the house where the wedding luncheon and reception are to take place, and again from the house to the railway-station, or, if the journey is made by road, to the place of honeymoon; but frequently the bride's father places his own motor-car at the disposal of the bride and bridegroom for this purpose, especially in the country. the bridal carriage is the only one, according to etiquette, which the bridegroom is expected to provide. the invited guests should provide their own conveyances, and neither the bridegroom nor the bride's father are ever expected to do so. this should be thoroughly understood by the guests in every case. the custom of having groomsmen to support the bridegroom is now very general, as at royal weddings, a royal bridegroom being supported by from four to six groomsmen. two of the groomsmen usually act as ushers and assist in seating the guests. =the best man= should be a bachelor, although a married man could act in this capacity. he should either accompany the bridegroom to the church or meet him there. he should stand at his right hand during the ceremony--a little in the rear--and should render him the trifling service of handing him his hat at the close of it. he should sign the register afterwards in the vestry, and should pay the fees to the clergyman and to the verger, on behalf of the bridegroom, either before or after the ceremony, if the bridegroom does not pay them on arrival. the bridegroom and best man should arrive at the church before the bride, and await her coming, standing at the right-hand side of the chancel gates. =the bride= should be driven to the church in her father's motor-car. if she has a sister or sisters, and they officiate as bridesmaids, they, with her mother, should precede her to the church. the motor-car should then return to fetch the bride and her father; but when she has no sisters, her father generally precedes her to the church, and receives her at the church door, her mother accompanying her in the motor-car. the bridesmaids should arrive some little time before the bride, and form a line on either side of the church porch, or within the church doorway. the mother of the bride usually stands beside them. when the bride arrives she should take her father's right arm, or the right arm of her eldest brother or nearest male relative, who is deputed to give her away; he should meet her at the church door in the place of her father, and conduct her to the chancel or altar. at choral weddings the clergy and choir head the bridal procession and lead the way to the chancel, singing a hymn the while. =the bridesmaids= should follow the bride and her father up the nave of the church. when the number of bridesmaids is even, four, six, eight, or twelve; but when the number is odd, as five, seven, or nine, and three of them happen to be children, which is generally the case, the elder bridesmaids should walk "two and two," following next after the children. at fashionable weddings one or two little boys act as pages, and occasionally bear the bride's train. the head bridesmaid is generally the bride's eldest unmarried sister or the bridegroom's sister, and she should follow next to the bride with her companion bridesmaid, when children are not included in the group. =the bride's mother= should follow next to the bridesmaids, and walk by the side of her son, or other male relative, in following them up the nave of the church. ladies and gentlemen do not walk arm-in-arm at a wedding, but side by side. =the bride's immediate relatives= and the near relatives of the bridegroom should seat themselves in pews or chairs, according to the church in which the service is celebrated. in some churches the service takes place at the entrance of the chancel, and the bridal party enter the chancel and stand at the altar to receive the address, and the concluding portion of the service only is there celebrated. =the bridegroom's relatives= should place themselves on entering at the right of the nave, thus being on the bridegroom's right hand, and seat themselves in pews. the relatives of the bride should place themselves on entering at the left of the nave, thus being on the bride's left hand, and seat themselves in pews or chairs. large cards with the words "for the relatives of the bridegroom," "for the relatives of the bride," are frequently placed in the pews to indicate where they are to sit. =the bride= should stand at the bridegroom's left hand; the bride's father, or nearest male relative, should stand at her left hand, in order to give her away. the bridesmaids should stand immediately behind the bride in the order in which they pass up the church. the bride should take off her gloves at the commencement of the service and should give them with her bouquet to the head bridesmaid to hold. the invited guests should sit in the pews or chairs. guests seldom take their prayer-books with them to the church to follow the service therefrom. the hymns sung are usually printed on leaflets, and placed in the pews or on the seats. the bridegroom generally wears a flower in his button-hole, as he does not wear a wedding favour. the other gentlemen may, as a matter of course, wear button-hole bouquets, if they please. =when the service is concluded=, the bride should take the bridegroom's left arm, and, preceded by the officiating clergyman, and followed by her head bridesmaids, father, mother, and the most distinguished of the guests, should enter the vestry, where the register should be signed by the bride and bridegroom, two or three of the nearest relatives, and by two or three of the most intimate of the friends, and principal of the guests, including the best man and the head bridesmaid. the bride's father should sign it, but it is optional whether the bride's mother does so or not. when the register has been signed, and those in the vestry have shaken hands with the bride and offered their congratulations, the bride should take the bridegroom's left arm and pass down the nave of the church followed by her bridesmaids, in the same order as they have previously passed up the nave. the bride and bridegroom usually leave the church without pausing to shake hands with many of their friends present if a reception is to follow. when the bride and bridegroom have driven off from the church, the bride's mother should be the next to follow, that she may be at home to receive the guests as they arrive. there is no precedence as to the order in which the remainder of the company leave the church; it entirely depends on the cleverness of their servants in getting up their motor-cars. =button-hole bouquets= of natural flowers have entirely superseded the old-fashioned wedding favours for both ladies and gentlemen, and are sometimes offered to the guests before they leave their seats at the conclusion of the ceremony, but not invariably so. button-hole bouquets should be worn on the left side, by both ladies and gentlemen. =a bride who is a widow= should not wear a bridal veil, nor a wreath of orange-blossoms, nor orange-blossom on her dress. she should not be attended by bridesmaids, and wedding favours should not be worn by the guests. =how the invitations to the wedding reception of a widow= should be issued depends upon individual circumstances. for instance, if a young widow resides with her parents, the invitations should be issued in their names as at her first marriage, and the form of invitation should be similar, save that the words "their daughter, mrs. a., widow of mr. a." should be substituted for her christian name. if, as is very frequently the case, a widow resides in her own house, or if the marriage is to take place from an hotel, the invitations should be issued in her own name, and the form should be "mrs. cecil a. requests the pleasure (or the honour) of mr. and mrs. b.'s company at her marriage with mr. henry c., at st. george's church on tuesday, december th, at . o'clock, and afterwards at eaton gardens, r.s.v.p." "the presence of" instead of "the company of" may be put if preferred. =it is understood that a widow should not have bridesmaids=, but it is open to her to have the attendance of pages, if a wedding is to be a fashionable and smart one, although many ladies do not avail themselves of this privilege. the bridegroom should have a best man, as a matter of course; he may be the bride's brother if desired (the idea that this is not permitted is an erroneous one). a married man might be asked to act in the capacity of best man, there being no bridesmaids to require his attention, although this is seldom done, and a bachelor brother or friend is preferred. =a widow may be given away= by her father, uncle, brother, or even by a friend; indeed, it is more usual to have this support than not. at a first marriage "to be given away" is imperative, at a second it is optional; and if a widow at a quiet wedding prefers not to follow this custom she can do so. =much uncertainty exists as to whether a widow should or should not continue to wear her first wedding ring= when she marries a second time. in point of fact there is no hard and fast rule with regard to it, and a widow may continue or not continue to wear it, as she feels inclined. if she has children, and has had some years of married life, she usually retains it. if she is a young widow, she is likely to remove it, and wear the second ring only; but when this is her intention, she should not cease to wear it until she has arrived at the church, and has taken off her gloves previous to the ceremony; but, take it all in all, it is more usual to wear the two wedding rings than the second one only. =formerly, widows considered it imperative to be married in widow's colours=, grey or mauve, and that white was forbidden wear; but it is no longer so regarded, and a widow may and does wear white or cream on her wedding-day--not exactly a maiden bridal dress, as a tinge of colour is introduced. the larger number still regard pale grey or pale heliotrope as more suitable on the occasion of a second marriage, and doubtless this is so when a widow is not in her first youth. a widow may not, of course, wear a bridal veil; she must wear a hat or toque, white or coloured, as she pleases. she can have a bouquet, not of white flowers only, but mauve or pink, or violets, according to choice. it is quite permissible to have a full choral service, and for the church in which the ceremony is performed to be decorated with plants and flowers, but wedding favours should not be given to the guests at its conclusion. =when a widow has a reception the newly married pair should receive their guests= standing together. the bride's mother, or near relative, could assist them in receiving. if a luncheon is to be given, they should lead the way to the dining-room, and sit at the head of the table, side by side; but if a reception tea is given, the guests might be sent in at the tea hour--that is to say, told that tea is going on, and the bride and bridegroom could follow later should the numbers be too great to admit of all going into the tea-room at the same time. =it is quite in order for a widow to have a wedding cake=, but it should not be decorated with orange blossoms or with white flowers, merely with icing and ornamentations. the display of presents at the marriage of a widow is, as a rule, a very restricted one. the bridegroom and the bridegroom's family being the principal donors, the presents are seldom exhibited. the exception is when a widow has made many new friends, and has received wedding presents from them. presents, when made to a widow having a house of her own, are expected to be of substantial value, and there is a general reluctance felt to offering her trifles, even if expensive ones, such as a girl-bride would appreciate; not so a married lady of social standing. =on arriving at the house= where the wedding luncheon or reception is to be held, the gentlemen should leave their hats in the hall. the ladies should not remove their bonnets or hats at a wedding luncheon or reception, neither should the bridesmaids do so. gentlemen should take off their gloves at wedding luncheons, but it is optional whether ladies do so or not. at receptions it is optional with both ladies and gentlemen whether they take off their gloves or not. the guests who have not already had an opportunity of speaking to the bride and bridegroom, on being ushered into the drawing-room, where the company assembles, should shake hands with them, having first gone through that ceremony with the host and hostess, if they have not already done so. previous to luncheon being announced the bride's father or mother should tell the principal of the gentlemen present whom to take down to luncheon. but this only applies to a sit-down luncheon. at standing-up luncheons the guests are not sent in in couples, but go in as they please, even two or three ladies together, and little or no precedency, bridal or otherwise, is followed as a general rule. the luncheon should be served in the dining-room, library, or large marquee, as the case may be. the bride's mother and the bridegroom's mother should take precedence of all other ladies present on the occasion of a wedding luncheon. =at strictly family gatherings the guests should go in to luncheon in the following order=:--the bride and bridegroom. the bride's father with the bridegroom's mother. the bridegroom's father with the bride's mother. the best man with the head bridesmaid. the remaining bridesmaids with the gentlemen who are to take them in to luncheon. the rest of the company should follow in the wake of the bridesmaids. the bride should take the bridegroom's left arm. sitting-down luncheons and standing-up luncheons are equally fashionable, although the latter are far more general, and little or no bridal precedency is observed. when a standing-up luncheon is given, small tables are arranged for the convenience of the bridal party on one side of the room, while a long table occupies the centre of the room. when a sitting-down luncheon is given the bride and bridegroom should sit either at the head of a long table or at the centre of it--the bride at the bridegroom's left hand. the bride's father should sit next the bride with the bridegroom's mother. when the bride and bridegroom sit at the centre of the table the bridesmaids should sit opposite to them with the gentlemen who have taken them in to luncheon; each sitting at a gentleman's right hand. when the bride and bridegroom occupy the head of the table, the bridesmaids, with the gentlemen who have taken them in to luncheon, should place themselves next the parents on either side of the table, dividing their number into two groups. when the bride's father is dead, her eldest brother or nearest male relative should take his place and should take the bridegroom's mother in to luncheon. =a wedding breakfast= is now termed a luncheon, champagne and other wines take the place of tea and coffee, which beverages are not served until towards the end of the luncheon. at weddings which take place at . p.m., a luncheon is frequently given at , followed by a "tea" at . =the luncheon menu= generally comprises soup, entrées both hot and cold; chickens, game, mayonnaises, salads, jellies, creams, etc., etc., and other dishes of a like character. the sweets should be placed on the table, fruit also. the entrées, etc., should be handed by the servants, the sweets should also be taken off the table by the men-servants and handed round in turn. at a standing-up luncheon the gentlemen should help the ladies and themselves to the various dishes on the table, as dishes are not handed at this description of luncheon; hot entrées and soup are not given. the menu is in other respects similar. the tables should be decorated with flowers at either a standing-up or a sitting-down luncheon. bottles of champagne should be placed the length of the table at a standing-up luncheon; if not, the gentlemen should ask the servants in attendance for champagne for the ladies they have taken down, and for themselves. at a sitting-down luncheon the servants offer champagne to the guests in the same order in which they hand the dishes. when the sweets have been handed the bride should cut the wedding-cake. this she does by merely making the first incision with a knife; it should then be cut by the butler into small slices, and handed on dessert plates to the guests. =the health of the bride and bridegroom= should then be proposed by the most distinguished guest present, for which the bridegroom should return thanks. he should then propose the health of the bridesmaids, for which the best man should return thanks. occasionally the gentleman of highest rank present also proposes this health in place of the bridegroom. the health of the bride's father and mother should be proposed by the bridegroom's father. it is now the custom to confine proposing healths at wedding luncheons within the narrowest limits. the health of the bride and bridegroom, and that of the bridesmaids being, in general, the only healths proposed. at standing-up luncheons and at wedding receptions, the health of the bride and bridegroom only is proposed. =the bride should leave the dining-room= immediately after the healths have been drunk, to change her dress for departure. the head bridesmaid should accompany her, if related to her, and the guests should adjourn to the drawing-room to await the bride's reappearance, which should not be long delayed, and the adieus should then be made. leave-takings should not be prolonged more than is absolutely necessary. the parents should follow the bride and bridegroom into the hall, and adieus to them should there be made. =the old-fashioned custom= of throwing satin slippers after the bride is sometimes observed, foolish as it is. it is the best man's or the head bridesmaid's privilege to perform this ridiculous act. when rice is thrown after a bride it should be scattered by the married and not by the unmarried ladies present; but the custom, like that of throwing the so-called "confetti," is now practically obsolete in good society. =strewing the bride's path with flowers= from the church to the carriage by village children is a custom much followed at weddings which take place in the country. =the honeymoon= now seldom lasts longer than a week or ten days. many brides prefer spending their honeymoon in their future home, if it happens to be in the country, instead of making a hurried trip to paris or elsewhere, or to spending it at the country house of a friend, lent to them for the purpose. but it is entirely a matter of individual feeling which course is taken. =the bride's trousseau= should be marked with the initials of the name she is to take. =the bridegroom should provide= the house-linen and all other things appertaining to the bride's new home. =the wedding presents= should be dispatched to the bride's residence immediately after the wedding, and they should at once be put into their several places, and not arranged for the purpose of being shown to visitors. =the bridal wreath= should not be worn after the wedding-day. the bridal wreath, the bridal bouquet, and the orange blossoms from the wedding-cake, if treasured as mementos of the happy event, should be preserved in the recesses of a locked drawer in the bride's chamber, and not exhibited under glass shades in the drawing-room. =precedence= should not be accorded to a bride during the first three months after marriage, although this old-fashioned custom is sometimes followed at country dinner-parties on the occasion of a bride's first visit. =the custom of sending wedding cake= to friends is an exploded one, and only followed between near relations. =wedding cards= are, strictly speaking, out of date, and only sent by people who adhere to old-fashioned customs. =the words "no cards"= should not be inserted when the announcement of a marriage is sent to the newspapers; neither should the intimation be added that the bride and bridegroom will be "at home" on certain days. chapter xvii wedding receptions =an afternoon wedding= usually takes place between and . o'clock, and the "reception" that follows is given from . to , on the return from the church. when a wedding is a choral one the choir and clergy frequently head the bridal procession. this is arranged with the vicar of the church where the marriage is solemnised. =invitations= to wedding receptions are no longer issued on "at home" cards, but are included in the invitations to the wedding ceremony issued in printed notes. (see chapter xvi.) the arrangements in the tea-room, and the refreshments given, should be similar to those provided at large afternoon "at homes," with the addition of wedding-cake and champagne. =ceremony= is, as far as possible, dispensed with as regards sending the guests into the tea-room, and this is a great advantage gained over a wedding luncheon, either a sitting-down or a standing-up one, when people are doubtful as to the exact place belonging to each individual relative. the bride and bridegroom either enter first, followed by the bridesmaids and a few of the principal guests, or they follow later, as they prefer. the remainder of the company should make their way downstairs as space permits, for a wedding reception is a crowded affair, even in the largest of mansions. not only is every one invited who has given a wedding present to either bride or bridegroom, within visiting distance, but even others who are not intimate enough to be expected to do so. the guests should not make their way in the first instance to the tea-room, but should proceed at once to the drawing-room and shake hands with the host and hostess, and afterwards with the bride and bridegroom. the bride and bridegroom should stand together within the drawing-room and shake hands with all those with whom they are acquainted. the bride and bridegroom should be the first to enter the tea-room. flowers, as a matter of course, are a great feature at wedding receptions. the tea and coffee should be served by the maid-servants, generally by the lady's maids, but men-servants should also be in attendance to open the champagne as required. very little wine is drunk at this hour of the day. ladies seldom care for it, and gentlemen avoid it on principle. still, out of compliment to the bride, the relatives quaff a cup of sparkling wine, although her health is seldom proposed or speeches of any kind made. the bride should put the knife into the wedding-cake, and the butler should cut it up and hand it to the guests. seats should not be placed in the tea-room, and the tables should occupy the top or side, or both the top and side, of the room, according to the number of guests invited, so as to leave as much space as possible in the centre of the room. the bride and bridegroom are not always present at a wedding tea, as the departure for the proposed place of honeymoon does not in every case admit of it, and the mother holds the "at home," and the guests inspect the presents after the newly-married couple have left. an "at home" is sometimes given a few days previous to the wedding for the inspection of the presents, if they are very numerous and beautiful; but even when this is done they still form a centre of interest on the afternoon of the wedding to the many guests. when jewellery and plate to any great extent form a portion of the presents, it is sometimes thought necessary to have a policeman on duty while the house is open to so many comers, and when to effect an entrance under the pretext of business would be an easy matter. chapter xviii wedding expenses =the responsibilities of a bridegroom= from a pecuniary point of view commence from the moment of his engagement. he must at once present the bride-elect with an engagement ring. a man of even moderate wealth finds no difficulty in choosing and purchasing a handsome ring costing from £ to £ ; but a poor man, possessing but a small income, is often put to more expense than he can conveniently afford in the matter of an engagement ring. he knows all the members of the bride's family will sit in judgment upon it if it is but a modest gift worth about £ , which is quite as much as he feels he is justified in spending; he knows that both it and himself will be regarded as very mean, or as conveying a not very inspiriting prospect of days to come. the engagement ring worn on the bride's finger after marriage is a lasting memento, and if a poor one she will not be proud of it--neither will he. rich men take the brides to choose engagement rings, expense being no object to them; but poor men cannot do this, as the choice might fall on gems beyond their means, therefore they make the choice themselves, according to the position of the families they are about to enter. if the standing is above their own, from a money point of view, the engagement rings have to be chosen in accordance with the jewels worn by members of such families, and a bridegroom would thus spend £ at least on an engagement ring suitable to a lady so placed. on the other hand, when men with small incomes marry the daughters of parents of a similar position to their own, the engagement rings given are not costly ones, and a ten-pound note, or even less, would cover the cost of these binding tokens. the wedding rings are within the means of all bridegrooms, be they ever so poor. =during the engagement= the question of presents to the brides-elect is never absent from the thoughts of their bridegrooms. the wealthy please themselves and their brides by giving costly jewels, which are often chosen by the brides themselves in company with their bridegrooms. this is very delightful shopping, but it does not fall to the lot of the great majority. men of moderate means give presents of moderate value and few in number; they are not bound by etiquette during their engagements to give any jewellery if their incomes do not warrant this outlay; but a man must have very little money to go upon if he cannot contrive to give a bracelet or necklet or some such trinket to the girl he is about to marry. =to give presents to the bridesmaids= is another of the obligations of bridegrooms. here again, the wealthy exercise their generosity and good taste with the concurrence of their brides, who assist them in the choice of suitable presents in articles of jewellery. these average £ and upwards for each bridesmaid, which bring it to a good total when the bridesmaids are numerous. the point that affects the generosity of bridegrooms, however, is not how much they ought to spend on these presents, but rather, how little may be spent upon them with due consideration for the fitness of things, viz. the position of the bridesmaids. two sovereigns would be a reasonable sum for a man of small means to spend on each gift to the bridesmaid. =the bridal bouquet and the bridesmaids' bouquets= come next on the list of expenses a bridegroom defrays. rich men spend liberally in this direction, but average sums to give to meet ordinary incomes are two guineas to one guinea for a bride's bouquet, and five and twenty to fifteen shillings each for the bridesmaids' bouquets. =the fees connected with the ceremony= are strictly the province of the bridegroom to defray. if a marriage is by licence, he pays the cost, which in town amounts to £ _s._ _d._, and in the country from £ _s._ _d._ to £ _s._ the fee to the vicar of the church where the marriage is to be solemnised varies from £ _s._ to £ _s._, oftener £ _s._ than not with the majority of bridegrooms with moderate incomes, the exception being £ _s._ the minor fees are very trifling that a bridegroom is expected to pay. he pays the organist for playing a wedding march at the conclusion of the service, if it is not a choral one; the bell-ringers look to him for their fee, as do the vergers, etc. thus a bridegroom pays for what is absolutely necessary at the marriage ceremony only, and very little besides. =when a friend of the bride or bridegroom performs the ceremony= or assists at it a fee is not given to him by the bridegroom, but a present of some kind is made to him, either in silver plate or by a small cheque, as circumstances dictate, for railway expenses or otherwise. it is usual for the bridegroom to do this unless the clergyman in question is a relative of the bride, when a joint present is usually given by bride and bridegroom. =the bride's parents bear a large share of the wedding expenses=, foremost of which is the bride's trousseau, the cost of this being entirely dependent on position and income. the dinners and "at homes" given before the marriage to introduce the bridegroom to the members of the bride's family are given by the bride's parents. the wedding reception is given by them, either at their own residence or at an hotel. as concerns their share of the expenses connected with the ceremony, it depends upon whether the wedding is to be a smart one or a quiet one. if the former, the expenses that fall to them are somewhat considerable; if the latter, they are almost nil. a choral service, for instance, is paid for by the bride's parents, the organist, choirmaster, and choir all being severally paid by them. if the hymns sung are printed on leaflets this trifling expense also is included. all floral decorations are paid for by the bride's parents, as is the hire of the awning and the red felt at the church doors. when wedding favours or button-holes are given it is by them also. =for whom the bride's family are expected to provide conveyances is invariably a misunderstood detail.=--the bride's father has only to provide carriages or cars to convey himself and bride to the church, and for those members of his family residing under his roof, and for visitors staying with him for the wedding. he is not required to provide them for any other of the guests, save in the country, and then only for those who arrive by train at a roadside station and cannot obtain conveyances for themselves. in town the bridegroom has to provide the motor-car to convey himself and bride from the church to her father's house, and afterwards to the station. in the country the reverse is the case, and the bride's father does this by lending one of his own carriages or cars for the purpose. =the bridegroom is expected to provide the furniture= and all household effects for the new home, including plate and linen, which latter naturally form very important items. many of the bridal presents, however are made to lighten these expenses, and consist of plate to a great extent, and occasionally of linen also, from the members of the bride's family; still, the rule in england is that the bridegroom should provide it as part of the necessaries of the home, and the gift of it by relatives is altogether optional. chapter xix afternoon "at homes" =afternoon "at homes"= are a great feature amongst the entertainments of the day, large afternoon parties, and small afternoon parties; parties so large that the number of guests equals those at a big crush or evening reception, and so small that they might fairly come under the denomination of afternoon teas. at afternoon "at homes," ladies are present in a considerable majority, there being usually from about ten gentlemen to thirty ladies on an average present at these gatherings. ladies have a decided partiality for this class of entertainment, as it affords an opportunity for meeting their friends and acquaintances, or for making new acquaintances, and for forming future plans and interchanging civilities; and even in the height of the london season, afternoon "at homes" are fully attended by the members of the fashionable world. there are various classes of afternoon "at homes": the large "at home" of from fifty to two hundred guests, when usually professional vocal and instrumental talent is engaged, and fairly good music given, although the entertainment is not of sufficient importance to be termed a concert; the "at home" of from fifty to a hundred guests when only amateur talent is in requisition; and the small "at home" of from ten to thirty people, when conversation usually takes the place of music, the party being composed of friends rather than of acquaintances. =invitations to "at homes"= should be issued in the name of the hostess only, and not in the united names of the master and mistress of the house. invitations should be issued on "at home" cards, large and small, and also on visiting cards. the name of the person invited should be written at the top of the card at the right-hand corner, the words "at home" being printed beneath the name of the lady issuing the invitation, and the day and date beneath the words "at home," and the hour beneath the date. any amusement to be given should be added at the bottom of the card at the left-hand corner. the address should be printed at the right-hand corner at the bottom of the card. the letters r.s.v.p. are occasionally either written or printed on the "at home" card, at the left-hand corner of the bottom of the card, but it is not usual to write "r.s.v.p." in the corner of an afternoon "at home" card, as it is immaterial how many guests are present at this class of entertainment; but if an answer is so requested, an answer should be sent. r.s.v.p. signifies "_répondez, s'il vous plaît_" or "an answer is requested." it is customary to include the head of the family, either husband or father, in the invitation. thus, at the top of the card, at the right-hand corner should be written "mr. and mrs. a.," or "mr. and miss a." the daughters of the house should be included in the invitation sent to their mother. thus "mr. and mrs. a.," "the misses a.," but the sons of the house should be invited separately. when a family consists of a mother and daughters, the invitation should be "mrs. and the misses a." the title of "honourable" should not be put on an invitation card, but only on the envelope containing the card. all other titles are recognised on invitation cards; but the letters k.c.b., m.p., etc., should not be written on the cards, but only on the envelopes in which they are enclosed. if a lady is aware that she will be unable to be present, it would be polite to send her excuses, although strict etiquette does not demand it; both the invitation and the answer can in all cases be sent by post. it is not now considered necessary to leave cards after afternoon "at homes." invitations to large afternoon "at homes" should be issued a fortnight previous to the day, and to small "at homes" within a week or so of the day. =the arrival of guests.=--when invited guests arrive, they should not inquire if the hostess is at home, but at once enter the house; and they should be ushered at once into the tea-room. the gentlemen should leave their hats and overcoats in the hall. at large "at homes" a cloak-room should be provided, so that a lady could remove a cloak or fur-cape, usually worn during the winter weather; but at small "at homes" a cloak-room is not necessary, as the reception-rooms are neither so crowded nor so warm, neither are the ladies' toilettes so elaborate. =refreshments.=--at large "at homes" refreshments should be served in the dining-room, on a long buffet at one end of the room, or on a long table the length of the room. the lady's-maids and other maid-servants should stand behind the table to pour out and hand the cups of tea or coffee across the table as asked for. it is usual to have women-servants on these occasions to pour out the tea, a man-servant or men-servants being also in attendance, in case anything is required of them, although gentlemen usually help themselves to claret-cup, wine, etc. the usual refreshments given at these "at homes" are tea and coffee, the latter served from large silver urns. (see chapter "preparing afternoon tea," in the work entitled "waiting at table.") sherry, champagne-cup, claret-cup, ices, fruit, fancy biscuits and cakes, thin bread-and-butter, potted game, sandwiches, etc. ice plates are used for ices, dessert plates for fruit and fruit salads. at small "at homes" champagne, claret-cup, and ices are not given. the tea should be made in teapots, instead of in urns, at both large and small "at homes." at small "at homes" the tea is usually served in the smaller of the two drawing-rooms, or in an adjoining boudoir or ante-room. the tea is then poured out by the young ladies of the house, or by the hostess herself, but seldom by maid-servants when served in the drawing-room. the most convenient manner, however, of serving tea is to serve it in the dining-room, unless the number of guests is limited, when it would appear unsociable if they were to congregate in the dining-room, leaving the hostess comparatively alone in the drawing-room. when tea is served in the dining-room, the guests are usually asked by the servant in attendance if they will have tea before being ushered into the drawing-room. at small teas, the cups of tea should be handed to the ladies by the gentlemen present, or by the young lady officiating at the tea-table, and gentlemen generally stand about the room, or near the tea-table, at small "at homes." =receiving guests.=--the servant should precede the guests to the drawing-room as in "morning calls." at large "at homes" the hostess should receive her guests at the drawing-room door, and shake hands with each on arrival. the drawing-room door should remain open, and she should stand within the doorway. at small teas, the drawing-room door should not remain open, and the hostess should receive her guests within the room, as at "morning calls." the guests should arrive from a quarter-past four until half-past five or six o'clock. the guests are not expected to remain the whole three hours specified, and are at liberty to remain as long or as short a time as they please. the earliest arrivals are generally the first to leave. when the hostess judges it expedient to do so, she introduces one or two of the ladies to each other, either in a formal manner (see chapter ii.), or in a semi-formal manner, by saying, "mrs. a., i don't think you know mrs. b."; but she should not say this unless quite certain that mrs. b. desires the acquaintance of mrs. a., or that mrs. a. has no objection to knowing mrs. b.[ ] it is rather the exception than the rule to make general introductions on these occasions. introductions should only be made when the hostess is aware that the persons introduced would be likely to appreciate each other, or for any reason of equal weight. the guests should go to the tea-room with any gentlemen of their acquaintance present, or in the case of ladies with each other, if they have not done so on arrival. this move to the tea-room is usually made in the intervals between music, recitations, etc. occasionally, the hostess introduces one or two of the gentlemen present to the ladies of highest rank for the purpose of sending them into the tea-room. a lady should place her empty cup on any table near at hand, unless a gentleman offers to put it down for her. it is optional whether a lady removes her gloves or not, and many prefer not to do so. at large "at homes," the hostess remains at her post the whole of the time, and hardly ever sits down. at small "at homes," she should move amongst her guests, conversing with them all more or less. when there are daughters, they should assist their mother in entertaining the guests. when ladies are acquainted, they should take an opportunity of speaking to each other. it is usual for ladies to move about the rooms at afternoon "at homes" to speak to their various friends and acquaintances; and they are by no means obliged to remain seated in one spot unless desirous of doing so. when music is given at afternoon "at homes," it is usual to listen to the performance, or at least to appear to do so; and if conversation is carried on, it should be in a low tone, so as not to disturb or annoy the performers. it is not necessary to take leave of the hostess at afternoon "at homes," unless she is standing near the drawing-room door when the guest is passing out, or unless she is a new acquaintance, and the visit a first one at her house, when it would be polite to do so. when it is late, and but a few guests still remain, these few should make their adieus to the hostess. at these afternoon teas or "at homes," the hostess should not ring to order the door to be opened for the departing guest or for her motor-car to be called, as at "morning calls." the guests make their way to the hall, and the servants in attendance call up the motor-cars as they are asked for. motor-cars should always be kept in waiting at afternoon "at homes," as ladies are sometimes unable to remain longer than a quarter of an hour. the guests either remain in the hall or in the dining-room until they hear their motor-cars are announced. =gratuities= should never be offered to servants at these entertainments, or, in fact, at any entertainment whatever. =afternoon concerts.=--when afternoon concerts are given, invitations should be issued on the usual "at home" cards, which can be purchased with the words "at home," etc., already printed, or they are printed to order, with the name and address of the hostess. the name of the person invited should be written above the name of the hostess at the right-hand corner of the card. the date under the line "at home" should be in the centre of the card beneath the name of the hostess; the hour should be written at the left-hand corner, and the letters r.s.v.p. the printed address should be at the right-hand corner. the names of the performers should be added at the bottom of the card at the right-hand corner. the hour usually fixed for a concert is o'clock. the hostess should receive her guests at the drawing-room door, when they should at once seat themselves. the seats should be arranged in rows down the centre of the room, and sofas and settees should be placed around the room. the programme of a concert is divided into two parts, and at the conclusion of the first part the guests should repair to the dining-room for refreshments, which are served as at large "at homes." =afternoon dances.=--invitations to afternoon dances should be issued on "at home" cards in the manner already described. "dancing" should be printed in the corner of cards, and the hour of " to " o'clock substituted for that of " " o'clock. the words "afternoon dance" should not be written on an invitation card, and there is no other received form of invitation for afternoon dances than the one already given. afternoon dances are very popular at watering-places, military stations, small towns in the vicinity of london, etc., but are seldom given in london itself. refreshments should be served during the whole of the afternoon, from to , as at large "at homes." the ladies should remove their jackets or wraps in the cloak-room, but retain their hats or bonnets; the hostess should receive her guests at the drawing-room door, as at an afternoon "at home." =bridge teas= occupy an important place in social life. they are a convenient form of entertainment, as they allow of a small number of guests being invited, even as few as eight persons being considered a reasonable number of players to invite, while twenty-four is distinctly an outside one. the average number is in most instances sixteen, all told. the play usually commences at . , sometimes earlier, and continues until . , allowing an interval for "tea" at . . the invitations to these informal gatherings are either issued in friendly notes or on visiting cards. if on the latter, the words "at home," day, and date are written under the name of the hostess, while "bridge, . ," or " o'clock" is put in the corner of the cards opposite the address. the hostess arranges beforehand the places the guests are to occupy at the different tables; this is done that the good players may play together. when all have arrived, the hostess tells her guests where to sit, and is herself one of the players. on taking their seats they cut for partners. she does not invite guests to look on, as it would necessitate her not playing, but talking to them while they remain; besides conversation is discouraged, as it distracts the attention of the players from the game. the ladies retain their hats, but remove their coats, furs, etc., on arrival. footnotes: [ ] see chapter "conversing with new acquaintances," in the work entitled "the art of conversing." chapter xx "at home" days =an "at home"= day signifies that a lady is at home to her friends and acquaintances on one particular day in the week. she should intimate this fact by printing upon her visiting cards the days on which she is at home. thus: "thursdays in march," or "thursdays in march and april," or any day of the week she thinks proper to name. these cards she should leave in person on those who are not at home when she calls, or they can be sent by post. those she finds at home she should inform that her "at home" day is "thursday." she should not leave her visiting card in this case, only two of her husband's cards, and the "at home" day should not be written upon them. on the "at home" day, calls should be made from three to six, or from four to six. the first comers should leave before the afternoon tea hour and should limit their call according to the degree of intimacy existing, remaining from a quarter of an hour to an hour, as the case may be. =a hostess or her daughter should pour out the tea= on these "at home" days when tea is not served in the dining-room as at "at homes," which should be done when the number of visitors is very considerable. the popularity of a hostess is tested on these "at home" days by the number of visitors who call during the afternoon, and when "at home" days are not a success, socially speaking, she should discontinue them after a certain time, and should substitute an occasional "at home." it depends not a little on the social standing of the lady who has an "at home" day and upon the locality in which she lives, as to whether the "at home" day is a failure or the reverse. in the outlying districts of town it has its advantages, when to make a call amounts to almost a journey, and when acquaintances are few in the immediate neighbourhood. again, it has its advantages when ladies are much occupied during the week, and when their time is given up to an engrossing occupation, charitable or artistic, at home or away from home, literary or scientific, at studios, museums and public institutions, etc., work undertaken for their own amusement, profit, or advancement, or for the benefit of others. to these ladies an "at home" day is a convenience. one day in the week is all they can allow themselves apart from their important engagements, and to them quiet privacy and leisure are indispensable. fashionable ladies consider an "at home" day to be a great tax upon their time and inclinations. their engagements are too numerous to admit of giving up one whole afternoon in every week on the chance of people calling. not only long-standing but impromptu engagements preclude this sacrifice. it would be a breach of politeness not to be at home to callers on an "at home" day, and many things might occur to necessitate absence from home on that particular afternoon. if, however, absence is unavoidable, a relative might take the place of the hostess on the "at home" day in question. the people who thoroughly enjoy "at home" days are those who have more time on their hands than they know what to do with. the few calls they have to make are soon made, the few friends they have to see are soon seen, occupation they have none, and they are grateful for the opportunity "at home" days offer of meeting their friends and finding a hostess at home. chapter xxi colonial etiquette generally speaking, etiquette is followed in the colonies and in india by english men and women very much as in the mother country as regards its principles, rules, and observances. one marked difference occurs in the hours of calling, it is true, they being regulated by climate. in hot climates, the early morning hours, before noon, and late evening hours, after sunset, are, according to the fashion of the place, the chosen hours for calling; but in more temperate climes--resembling our own--the afternoon hours are, as with us, the hours for calling. again, the rule that residents should call upon new-comers, whether they be visitors of other residents or intending residents, holds equally good both in civilian and military circles alike. in all colonies and dependencies "government house" is the centre to which all society gravitates--that is to say, that all new-comers, whether they are to become permanent or temporary residents, providing their social position warrants the action, hasten to make known their arrival by writing their names and addresses in the visitors' book kept at each government house for the purpose. the object of doing this is to be received at government house, and thus to obtain an entrance into the society of the place. what follows upon this social observance--it hardly merits the name of civility, such calls being actuated by self-interest in the first instance--depends upon a variety of circumstances, the position of the caller, and whether the stay is to be permanent or temporary, whether introductions are brought or not, and so on. the invitations extended to them are regulated accordingly. they may be limited to afternoon "at homes"; or receptions, dinners, and dances may be included; or a visit to the summer residence of the governor and his wife may also be reckoned amongst invitations, as this latter is not an unusual display of hospitality accorded to certain individuals. =how the governor of a colony should be addressed= by his guests depends upon his rank. as he represents the sovereign, it would be quite correct to address him as "sir," as being the most deferential mode, and governors as a body rather like to be thus addressed. in the case of a governor being a knight--a very usual contingency--it would be equally correct to address him as "sir george," and not as "sir." when a governor has not received knighthood, he should be addressed as "mr. a----," when it is not desired to be too stiff and formal. in conversation, when referring to the governor--he being present--it should not be "the governor," but "lord blank," "sir george," or "mr. a---- said so and so," unless strangers are present, before whom it would seem right to be a little formal. in addressing a governor by letter, the envelope should be directed to "his excellency sir george blank," however friendly its contents may be; but when writing to a governor's wife, it has not been thought right to style her "her excellency," but simply "lady blank," unless in the case of a viceroy's wife, as in india or ireland; but as against this the point was raised some years ago, and it was then decided that the wives of governors were entitled to be so addressed. colloquially, the members of a governor's suite refer to both the governor and his wife as "his" and "her excellency," and style them "your excellency," and all who approach them officially, being of inferior rank, do likewise; but socially they are seldom so addressed. =a colonial bishop= should not actually be styled "my lord," or referred to as "the lord bishop," if it is desired to be quite correct; but "my lord" or "the lord bishop" is now often used by persons who know it is not the proper style of address, but make use of these titles, wishing to be more deferential than scrupulously correct. in writing to a colonial bishop, the envelope should be addressed to "the right rev. the bishop of ----," and the letter commenced "right rev. sir" or "dear bishop blank." a colonial officer who has received the king's special permission to retain the title of "honourable" which he bore in his colony, is accorded at court, _i.e._ at a levée, court ball, etc., the same precedence as a peer's son, who is styled "honourable," but this does not practically give him any rank or precedence at ordinary social gatherings, where that special grant is unknown or ignored. also the privilege confers no rank or precedence upon the wife or daughters of a colonial honourable, just as the wife of a right honourable here has no special precedence. the title of honourable cannot continue to be borne by a retired colonial officer or legislative councillor unless it has been specially authorised by the sovereign on the recommendation of the secretary of state for the colonies. chapter xxii indian etiquette it is the custom that those who wish to be invited to government house (viceregal house) at simla, or elsewhere, should, immediately on arrival, write their names in the visitors' book kept for that purpose, and they are sure, if in general society, to be asked to one or more of the receptions held during the season. they are introduced to the vice-queen--as the wife of the viceroy is termed--by one of the _aides-de-camp_ in waiting. when a lady is the wife of a government official, it gives her a position in society in india which perhaps she would not otherwise have, and is in itself a passport to most functions. official rank is everything in india. =as regards attending the viceregal drawing-rooms=, they are only held in calcutta and in the evening. if a lady has been presented at a court in england, she can attend a drawing-room in calcutta; but, if she has not been presented at home, she must be introduced by some other lady who has been presented at the viceregal court. in writing unofficially to the governor-general of india, it would not be correct to use the title of "viceroy," and the proper superscription is "his excellency the right hon."; or, if a duke, "his excellency the duke of ----"; or, if a marquis, "his excellency the most honble. marquis of ----," etc. to the wife of a viceroy the address should be "her excellency the duchess of ----," "her excellency the marchioness of ----," "her excellency the countess of ----"; or "her excellency the lady blank," if the wife of a baron. when addressing a viceroy or vice-queen colloquially or unofficially, "your excellency" should not be used in either case. the title only in both instances should be employed. on being introduced to either of their excellencies, it would be correct to curtsy. chapter xxiii garden-parties garden-parties are entertainments that are annually given. if the weather is fine, the more enjoyable it is for the guests; if wet, a garden-party resolves itself into a large "at home." in almost every county a series of garden-parties is held by the principal ladies of their respective neighbourhoods during august and september, nothing but absence from home, illness, or some equally good reason being considered sufficient excuse for the non-fulfilment of this social duty. the county at large expects to be invited at least once a year to roam about in the beautiful park of the lord of the manor, to row on the lake, to play lawn-tennis on the lawn, to wander through the winding paths of the shady, leafy shrubberies, to admire the brilliant hues of the geraniums bedded out on parterre and terrace, or the variegated asters, or the late gloire-de-dijon roses, which at the end of august are in their fullest beauty. then there are the conservatories through which to saunter, and from which to beat a retreat, if the sun is too powerful, into the mansion itself, the reception-rooms being generally thrown open on the occasion of a garden-party. a garden-party is an occasion for offering hospitality to a wide range of guests--people whom it would not be convenient to entertain save at this description of gathering. invitations are on these occasions freely accorded to ladies, from the energetic lady of eighty to the little lady of eight. one great advantage offered by a garden-party is that it is immaterial to what extent ladies are in the majority, and it is a reproach to a county rather than to a hostess if the muster of guests is eighty ladies against twenty gentlemen. =invitations to a garden-party= should be issued in the name of the hostess, and within three weeks to a week of the date fixed. "at home" cards should be used for this purpose, and the words "and party" should be invariably added after the names of the invited guests. "croquet" or "tennis" should be printed in one corner of the card, the hour, to o'clock, above, the day and the date beneath the name of hostess. "weather permitting" is seldom written upon the card, and the guests are expected to arrive even though the afternoon should be showery and overcast, and only a thoroughly wet afternoon, with no break between the showers, should prevent their appearing. in the country, ladies think little of a drive of ten miles to attend a garden-party. =arrangements for garden-parties.=--garden-parties or croquet-parties are given on different scales of expenditure, and the preparations are regulated accordingly. when a garden-party is given on a small scale, and the preparations are comparatively few, refreshments should be served in the house. (for the usual refreshments provided, and for the general arrangements, see work entitled "waiting at table," p. .) a good supply of garden-chairs and seats should be placed on the lawn and about the grounds, rugs spread on the grass for those who sit out, and several sets of croquet provided for players. at large garden-parties a band is considered a necessary adjunct, and the band of the regiment quartered in the vicinity is usually available for these occasions. a band gives _éclat_ to an out-door gathering and confers local importance upon it. apart from this, the strains of a band enliven an entertainment of this description in no little degree. the place where the band is stationed is a rallying-point for the company, and the expense and trouble consequent upon engaging a band are repaid by the amusement it affords. the matter of engaging a military band is generally undertaken by the master of the house, rather than by the mistress, as, in the first place, the consent of the colonel of the regiment has to be obtained as a matter of form and courtesy before the arrangements are completed with the bandmaster. conveyance for the band has also to be provided and discussed with the bandmaster, and also refreshments for the bandsmen; and these details are more effectually carried out by a host than by a hostess. occasionally a large marquee is erected in which to serve refreshments, but more frequently the refreshments for the general company are served in the house, and only cool drinks dispensed in a tent to the cricketers or lawn-tennis players. =cricket-matches= are often the _raison d'être_ of a garden-party, rendering it popular with both ladies and gentlemen. the cricket-match in this case generally takes place in a field near to the grounds of the mansion, the match commencing about twelve o'clock, and the general company arriving about half-past three, or punctually at four, to witness the finish. golf now ranks first amongst fashionable out-door amusements with both sexes. private links are comparatively few, but club links exist in almost every neighbourhood--ladies' clubs, men's clubs, and clubs for both ladies and gentlemen. croquet or tennis tournaments are frequently the occasion of giving garden-parties, and some very exciting play takes place. when a tournament is held it takes the form of a garden-party; it usually lasts two days. the arrangements made for holding it depend upon circumstances, and it takes place, as do archery-matches, in either private or public grounds. =amusements.=--when a number of children are expected at a garden-party, performances of marionettes, or punch-and-judy, or conjuring are given for their amusement. in districts remote from town, these shows are difficult to obtain; therefore amateur showmen come bravely to the rescue, and their kindly efforts to divert the juveniles meet with due appreciation on all sides. not seldom a little amateur music is given at a garden-party--not a pre-arranged programme of music, but impromptu performances. these good-natured efforts to enliven the company occupy about an hour, and such performances take place in either the drawing-room or music-room of the mansion. garden-parties seldom terminate with a dance, though occasionally dancing closes the afternoon's amusements. the time occupied by croquet or tennis precludes all desire on the part of the players for further exertion in the shape of dancing, and young people apparently prefer playing croquet from to on the lawn to dancing in a marquee or in the drawing-room at that hour. a host and hostess receive their guests at a garden-party on the lawn; strangers should be introduced to the hostess by those who have undertaken to bring them to her house, and she should shake hands with all comers. it is also usual for guests to shake hands with the hostess on departure, if opportunity offers for so doing. garden-parties commence from . to o'clock, and terminate at o'clock. in making preparations for a garden-party, stabling for the carriage-horses and motor-cars of the numerous guests should be taken into consideration, and refreshments provided for the men-servants and chauffeurs. public afternoon concerts, bazaars, and flower-shows are essentially functions frequented by ladies _en masse_, and it is the exception, rather than the rule, for gentlemen to accompany them; again, at private afternoon gatherings, ladies usually appear unaccompanied by gentlemen. when a garden-party is a very large function, it is not unusual to put the words "garden-party" on the invitation cards in place of the words "at home"; thus: "the countess of a---- requests the pleasure of mr. and mrs. b----'s company at a garden-party on ----," etc. chapter xxiv town garden-parties the first garden-parties in town are usually given early in june, and continue during this and the ensuing month. the garden-parties at lambeth palace and fulham palace are the pioneers of the garden-party season, and the lead is followed by general society with more or less alacrity. town garden-parties resolve themselves into large receptions held out-of-doors, and those who know what crowded drawing-rooms imply in the sultry days of june are particularly glad of this change of _locale_, and willingly spend an hour or more at one of these out-of-door _reunions_, instead of thinking a quarter of an hour's stay all too long within doors, where it is a case of heat _versus_ draught, and difficult to determine where it is the most objectionable, in the drawing-room, tea-room, or on a staircase. although these functions are designated "garden-parties," yet the real style and title is "at homes," the address being sufficient indication to the invited guests as to the description of entertainment to be given, as the spacious gardens and lawns in and around london where these annual parties are held are well known to society at large. a band playing in the grounds where the garden-party is given would appear to be a _sine quâ non_, but the excellence of the same is merely a question of expense. thus guests have the pleasure of listening to the strains of splendid bands, and also the disappointment of hearing others far below the average. as this fickle climate of ours is not to be counted upon for twenty-four hours at a stretch to remain fine, it is seldom considered advisable to have the whole of the refreshment tables out-of-doors, and thus only ices, strawberries and cream, and ice cups are served out-of-doors; tea, coffee, and the rest, with ices, strawberries and cream, being invariably served within doors. =refreshment tables out-of-doors= considerably take off the strain from the tables in the tea-rooms, especially during the first half-hour, when the great rush is made in this direction. again, should heavy rain set in, the servants can easily remove pails of ice and bowls of strawberries and cream out of harm's way. even a large tent or marquee is not considered altogether desirable for refreshments, as under a burning sun the air within becomes over-heated and oppressive, while in the case of a downpour the results are almost disastrous. the popularity of garden-parties is incontestible in propitious weather. a variety of reasons conduce to this; for one thing, movement is so pleasant an exchange from the almost stationary position guests are compelled to take up in a crowded drawing-room. again, the number of guests invited is so much greater than to an "at home," that the chance of meeting a corresponding number of friends and acquaintances is trebled; or, on the other hand, if but a few friends should be present among the guests, yet the situation does not amount to isolation and boredom; and the alternative of sitting under a shady tree or sauntering about on the lawns listening to the strains of the band, is positive enjoyment in comparison to sitting in the corner of a drawing-room barricaded by a phalanx of ladies, or standing wedged in the midst of the same. it is small wonder, therefore, that invitations to these out-door functions are hailed with satisfaction and pleasure. =arrivals at a garden-party= are made almost simultaneously, or if not quite this, they follow in rapid succession, so that host and hostess have a short interval between arrivals and departures; and this offers an opportunity to give more than a shake of the hand to many of the guests, _i.e._ a little friendly conversation; while at an "at home" the hostess has to be at her post from p.m. to p.m., as guests arrive continuously, even close up to the hour named for departure. the host is expected to be present at a garden-party, and almost always is so; but his presence at his wife's "at home" is left a little doubtful, and his absence is often accounted for on the ground of its being unavoidable; but the trivial reasons that many men advance to their wives for their non-appearance prove how glad they are to escape from the ordeal on any terms. a man in the open air is at his best, and therefore a garden-party appeals to a host almost as much as it does to a guest. although the words "at home" are in general use when issuing invitations to these functions, yet occasionally the words "garden-party" are substituted in lieu of them on the "at home" cards, when the gatherings are unusually large; thus: "viscountess b---- requests the pleasure of mr. and mrs. g----'s company at a garden-party on ----," etc. chapter xxv evening garden-parties =the garden-party season= has been widened out by the introduction of "evening garden-parties" into the list of country festivities, and this form of entertainment has found great favour with all. invitations are issued on the usual "at home" cards, the hours from to p.m. occasionally "dancing" is printed on the cards, but not often, as it is not usual to combine an evening garden-party with a dance, except when only young girls and young men are invited. some little perplexity is felt by the recipients of evening garden-party invitations as to the style of dress that should be worn. should ladies wear morning dress or evening dress? men are equally in doubt on this point. ought they to wear evening dress or not? although this is not stated on the invitation cards, yet it is tacitly understood that ladies are expected to appear in the usual garden-party attire--smart, pretty dresses and hats or bonnets, and small fashionable wraps carried in place of sunshades in the event of the evening air proving somewhat chilly. evening dress, when worn at one of these "at homes," looks particularly out of place. the thin evening shoes, which must of necessity be worn with this style of dress, suit neither dewy grass nor stony gravel; and although at the evening concerts at the botanic gardens many ladies wear "evening dress" with smart evening cloaks, this is beside the question. they go for a short half-hour or so, not for a three hours' stay. anyhow, at evening garden-parties, the rule is not to wear evening dress as far as ladies are concerned. men, on the other hand, one and all, are expected to do so, morning dress being looked upon as out of place on these occasions. a light overcoat is inseparable from evening dress, therefore it is not considered risky wear for men even on the chilliest of summer evenings. =as to the arrangements= for one of these evening garden-parties. it is usual to have tea and coffee, and light refreshments during the whole of the evening, from arrival to departure, and to give a light supper a little before twelve o'clock. the gardens and grounds are illuminated with coloured lamps and lanterns, extensively or moderately, as the case may be. a band is considered indispensable, but a good one does not seem to be equally imperative, to judge from the indifferent performances of various bands heard on these summer evenings. however, country audiences are not too critical, knowing that to engage a good band from a distance entails considerable expense, and that evening garden-parties would be singularly few if superior music was insisted upon. thus the local band is encouraged to do its best, and to allow long intervals to elapse between each selection. in the case of an evening turning out decidedly wet, guests invited from a distance seldom put in an appearance, while the nearer neighbours do so, and the evening garden-party becomes an evening reception within doors, shorn of its numbers, it is true, but a pleasant gathering, nevertheless, especially with those who know how to make the best of a _contretemps_ caused by unpropitious weather. chapter xxvi luncheons =invitations to luncheon= are very much the order of the day in fashionable society. those who look back some few years remark the importance now accorded to this mid-day meal, and contrast it with the past. the lateness of the dinner-hour in a measure accounts for the position now taken by luncheon in the day's programme, joined to the fact that it offers another opportunity for social gatherings; and as the prevailing idea seems to be to crowd into one day as much amusement and variety and change as possible, invitations to luncheon have become one of the features of social life. =invitations to public luncheons= are not now confined to the celebration of local and civic events, but take a far wider range, and are given on every available opportunity when the occasion can be made to serve for assembling a large party of ladies and gentlemen. luncheon is by some considered to be rather a lady's meal than not, although in reality invitations are given as frequently to the one sex as to the other. yet the predominance of ladies at luncheon is due to the fact that the majority of gentlemen are too much occupied at this hour to be at liberty to accept invitations to luncheon, while others, more idle, breakfast at so late an hour that to them a two o'clock luncheon is a farce as far as eating is concerned. outside of those who are busy men and those who are idle men, and consequently late risers, there is another semi-occupied class of men who are always amenable to an invitation to luncheon. this institution of luncheon is invaluable to people who have many friends, acquaintances, and relations to entertain, as invitations to this meal are given for every day in the week, with or without ceremony, with long notice or short notice, or on the spur of the moment. ladies enjoy the society of their hostess at luncheon far more than at a dinner-party. at the former meal she makes general conversation with her guests on both sides of the table; at the latter she is monopolised by her immediate neighbours, by the gentleman who takes her down to dinner, and by the one who sits at her right hand, while she leaves her guests to be entertained by the gentlemen who take them in to dinner. at luncheon things are different; there is no going in to luncheon, conventionally speaking, save on official and public occasions. luncheon occupies a prominent place in the round of hospitalities. invitations to luncheon are not formally issued on invitation cards, unless some especial reason exists for giving a large luncheon-party, in which case it takes rank as an entertainment. large luncheon-parties are given on occasions such as lawn-tennis tournaments and lawn-tennis parties, archery-parties, cricket-matches and bazaars, etc. semi-official luncheons are given on the occasion of laying the foundation-stone of a church or public building, etc. this class of luncheon is beside the question, as it is rather a banquet than a luncheon, for which printed cards of invitation are issued. in general society invitations to luncheon are issued by written notes or are verbally given according to circumstances. =invitations to luncheon.=--a week's notice is the longest usually given, very little notice being considered requisite. many hostesses give their friends _carte blanche_ invitations to luncheon; but ladies as a rule seldom avail themselves of this _façon de parler_, as they consider it, and prefer to await a more direct form of invitation. gentlemen, on the contrary, are expected to avail themselves of this proffered hospitality without ceremony, as the presence of a gentleman visitor at luncheon is considered an acquisition, the reason, perhaps, being that ladies are usually in the majority at luncheon, and also that the unexpected arrival of one or two ladies would call for a greater amount of attention on the part of a hostess seated at luncheon than would the unexpected arrival of gentlemen, ladies requiring especial attention to be shown to them in the matter of a place at table, etc., while gentlemen are ready to offer attention instead of requiring it, and to take any place at table, whether convenient or otherwise. as a rule, the number of ladies present at luncheon greatly exceeds the number of gentlemen present, unless at a luncheon-party, when a hostess usually endeavours to equalise the numbers as far as possible; but it is not imperative for her to do this, and it is immaterial whether there are as many gentlemen as ladies present at luncheon or not. luncheon is a very useful institution to a mistress of a house, as it enables her to show a considerable amount of civility to her friends and acquaintances. she can invite to luncheon those it might not, for various reasons, be convenient to invite to dinner; as for instance, young ladies, single ladies, elderly ladies, ladies coming to town, or into the neighbourhood for a few days only, and so on. the usual rule in houses where there are children old enough to do so, is for the children to dine at luncheon with their governess, whether there are guests present or not. =in town the usual hour for luncheon= is . to o'clock; in the country it is generally half an hour earlier. the guests are expected to arrive within ten minutes of the hour named in the invitation, as although punctuality is not imperative, it is very desirable. a guest, on his or her arrival at a house, should not, if previously invited, inquire if the mistress of the house is at home, but should say, on the servant opening the door, "mrs. a. expects me to luncheon." when the guests are self-invited, they should inquire if the mistress of the house is at home. guests are conducted to the drawing-room before luncheon. the servant precedes them, as at morning calls. when guests arrive after the hour named for luncheon, they should be at once ushered into the dining-room, and their names announced. when the guests are unacquainted with each other, the hostess should make a sort of general introduction or introductions; that is to say, she should introduce one gentleman to two or three ladies, thus, "mr. a., mrs. b., mrs. c., and miss d.," making but one introduction in place of three separate introductions, this being the less formal mode of making unimportant introductions. it is not always possible for a host to be present at luncheon, owing to occupation and engagements, but courtesy to his wife's guests demands his presence when practicable. he should either join them in the drawing-room or in the dining-room, according to his convenience. guests are not sent in to luncheon as they are to dinner. ladies should not remove their hats at luncheon. they should remove their fur coats and wraps. these should either be left in the hall on arrival or taken off in the drawing-room or dining-room. short gloves should be removed; elbow gloves may be retained. gentlemen should not take their hats with them into the drawing-room, but should leave them in the hall. ten minutes is the usual time allowed between the arrival of the guests and serving luncheon, which is usually served at the hour named, the received rule being not to wait for guests. =going in to luncheon.=--when the luncheon gong sounds the hostess should say to the lady of highest rank present, "shall we go in to luncheon?" or some such phrase. (see "the art of conversing.") the visitor should then move towards the door. if the host is present, he should walk beside her; if not, the hostess should do so. the other ladies should follow as far as possible according to precedency, the gentlemen going last. thus the hostess either follows with the ladies or leads the way. guests should not go in to luncheon arm-in-arm as at a dinner-party, but singly, each lady by herself, or, when space permits, side by side. gentlemen likewise, but on arriving in the dining-room, each gentleman should place himself by the side of a lady, or between two ladies, at table. the hostess should sit at the top of the table and the host at the bottom, as at dinner, but it is immaterial where the guests sit, although as a rule the lady of highest rank sits by the host, and the gentleman of highest rank by the hostess. a late arrival should, on being ushered into the dining-room, make his or her way to the top of the table to shake hands with the hostess, making some polite excuse for being late. a hostess should rise from her seat to welcome a lady, but she should not do so to welcome a gentleman. luncheon is either served _à la russe_ or not, according to inclination, both ways being in equally good taste, although, as a rule, the joint is served from the _buffet_ or side-table, while the _entrées_, game, or poultry are placed on the table. for further information respecting the arrangements for luncheon, see the work entitled "waiting at table." formerly it was the custom in some houses for the servants to leave the dining-room as soon as they had helped the various guests to the joint or joints, and handed round the vegetables and the wine, in which case the host and hostess helped the guests to the _entrées_ and sweets, or the gentlemen present did so; but now it is invariably the rule for the servants to remain in the room during the whole of luncheon, and to hand the dishes and wine, etc., to the guests as at dinner-parties. luncheon usually lasts about half an hour, during which time the hostess should endeavour to render conversation general. as at dinner, it is the duty of a hostess to give the signal for leaving the room, which she does by attracting the attention of the lady of highest rank present by means of a smile and a bow, rising at the same time from her seat. the host, or the gentleman nearest the door, should open it for the ladies to pass out. the ladies should leave the dining-room as far as possible in the order in which they have entered it, the hostess following last. =when the host is not present=, the gentlemen should follow the ladies to the drawing-room; but when the host is present, the gentlemen should remain in the dining-room with the host a short time before joining the ladies in the drawing-room. it is optional on the part of the host whether he returns or not with the gentlemen to the drawing-room, although, if not particularly engaged, it is more courteous to do so. coffee is sometimes served after luncheon in the drawing-room. it is handed on a salver immediately after luncheon. the most usual way now, however, is to have coffee brought into the dining-room at the conclusion of luncheon, and handed to the guests on a salver. the guests are not expected to remain longer than twenty minutes after the adjournment to the drawing-room has been made. ladies should put on their gloves on their return to the drawing-room after luncheon. ladies having motor-cars should previously desire their chauffeurs to return for them from three to a quarter-past three o'clock, and the servant should inform each guest of the arrival of her motor-car. when a lady requires a cab, she should ask the hostess's permission to have one called for her. the subject of leave-taking is fully described in chapter iv. chapter xxvii breakfasts =breakfast parties= have in certain circles become a feature, and invitations to breakfast are issued both by card and by note. in official circles breakfast parties are frequently given, the morning hours up to one o'clock being the only disengaged portion of the day, and thus the opportunity is taken for offering and receiving hospitality, and of enjoying the society of friends and acquaintances. the breakfast hour varies from ten to eleven, according to circumstances, and the meal somewhat resembles a luncheon, fish, _entrées_, game, and cold viands being given, with the addition of tea, coffee, and liqueurs. punctuality on these occasions is almost imperative, as breakfast cannot be prolonged beyond a given limit, and therefore it is not considered necessary to wait the coming of a late guest. the guests go in to breakfast as to luncheon. when a party consists of both ladies and gentlemen, the hostess should lead the way with the lady of highest rank, followed by the other ladies, the gentlemen following with the host. when a party consists of gentlemen only, the host should lead the way with the gentleman of highest rank, and should indicate to the principal of the gentlemen present the places he wishes them to occupy at table; the remainder of the company should seat themselves according to inclination. the table should be laid as for luncheon, and decorated with flowers and fruit. tea and coffee should be served from a side table by the servants in attendance. all dishes should be handed as at luncheon. for the details of "breakfast-table arrangements and serving breakfast," see the work entitled "waiting at table." the guests usually leave as soon as breakfast is over, unless the ladies are invited by the hostess to accompany her to the drawing-room, or the gentlemen are invited by the host to smoke a cigarette or cigar previous to their departure. =house party breakfasts.=--in the country the breakfast hour varies from to . , and in some country houses it is an understood thing that the guests are at liberty to come down to breakfast at any time between nine and half-past ten. in not a few country houses the hostess and the ladies breakfast in their own rooms, and the gentlemen of the party breakfast with the host in the breakfast-room. the breakfast gong is a signal for assembling in the breakfast-room or dining-room, but it is not the custom to wait for any one beyond five or ten minutes. the host and hostess at once take their places at the breakfast-table. when the house-party is a large one, and space permits, a number of small tables should be arranged in the breakfast-room, in addition to a long breakfast-table. the servants should remain in attendance during breakfast to wait upon the guests. there is no general move made from the breakfast-table as in the case of luncheon or dinner; the hostess generally remains until the whole of the guests have at least commenced breakfast, save in the case of very late comers, for whom she would not be expected to remain at the head of the breakfast-table. the guests leave the breakfast-table as soon as they have finished breakfast, without waiting for any intimation from the hostess to do so. chapter xxviii picnics and water-parties many things contribute to draw people into the country and away from town in the month of september; therefore there is a far larger number in each and every neighbourhood inclined for a picnic or a water-party than in the three previous months, june, july, and august. picnic parties are sometimes invitation parties, and on other occasions contribution parties, or parties which partake in a measure of the character of both. =picnics by motor-car and picnics by rail.=--almost every county has its show place, or its ruins, its ruined abbey or its castle, its romantic scenery, and its fine views, its hills or its dales, its waterfalls or its glens. the southern and western counties are as rich in these respects as the eastern counties are barren. when a picnic party is to proceed to its destination by rail, a saloon carriage is engaged beforehand, and arrangement is made at the nearest hotel to supply the party with luncheon at from _s._ to _s._ per head, according to the style of luncheon required; or hampers of provisions are taken under the charge of one or two men-servants. if the picnic party proceeds by road, a coach is the favourite mode of conveyance, whether driven by the owner or hired for the occasion. this is a more sociable way of going to a picnic than dividing the party into detachments and conveying them in separate carriages. this is sometimes unavoidable, and if the party is assembled for a start, it occasions no little discussion as to how the party should be divided and conveyed in the various carriages, and it takes no little tact to arrange this in a satisfactory manner--to overrule objections, and to make things work smoothly. again, the members of a picnic party occasionally find their way to the place of rendezvous independently of each other; but, although this plan saves trouble, it does not promote sociability, and parties of four or six are apt to clique together during the day, instead of making themselves generally agreeable. the provision question is a very important one, and the heads of a picnic party should arrange in concert what each is to bring in the way of fish, flesh, fowl, fruit, and wine. the services of one or two men-servants at a large picnic party are generally required to arrange the table, to open the wine, and last, but not least, to collect and repack the articles used in the way of plate, china, or glass. =a picnic luncheon in september= is not always the _al fresco_ spread under the greenwood tree that it is in july, and oftener than not is held in the best parlour of a rustic inn, or, by permission, in a barn or shed, when the weather is not favourable for camping out. usually, when a large picnic party is arranged and got up by some three or four ladies and gentlemen, they divide the expenses of the entertainment between themselves, and determine how many shall be invited, each having the privilege of inviting a certain number. other picnics are got up on a different system, each person contributing a share towards the general expenses; but these gatherings are not so sociable as are the invitation picnics. invitation picnics where everything is done _en prince_ are extremely enjoyable and friendly affairs; they are big luncheons, given out-of-doors instead of indoors, at a distance instead of at home. but even these are not more pleasant than those well-arranged little picnics given by officers in country quarters, when the regimental coach conveys a favoured few to some favourite spot. =water-parties.=--there are many ways of arranging a water-party at yachting stations and at all riverside places. at yachting stations, for instance, a sailing yacht is hired to convey a party of from eighteen to twenty-five to some point of interest on the coast, in which case luncheon and tea are provided at an hotel in the vicinity of the place where the party have landed, and the expenses are equally divided. not unfrequently, on the return journey, the yacht is becalmed, and does not reach its destination until between two and three the following morning. if it happens to be a fine moonlight night, this prolongation of a water-party is an additional source of enjoyment; but if there is no moon as well as no wind, and the calm betokens a storm, it is the reverse of pleasant. but these little _contretemps_, when they do occur, rather lend a zest to the day's pleasure, and are something to talk about afterwards. water-parties are often given by owners of yachts. these are invitation parties, and luncheon, tea, and sometimes dinner, are served on board, and the party land and stroll about, but return to the yacht to be entertained. picnic and water-parties in general include as many gentlemen as ladies, whether they are invitation or contribution parties, although sometimes a majority of ladies is unavoidable. ryde is a favourite station for water-parties, as the island itself, as well as the opposite coast, offer innumerable points of interest for picnicing, and many are able to combine the pleasures of the yacht with those of the launch in one and the same water-party; thus a party sails from ryde to yarmouth, isle of wight, and then proceeds in a steam, or other, launch to alum bay. launch parties are immensely popular, both on the river and on the coast. some picnic on board, and others on shore, as they feel disposed. =canoe-parties= on coast and river are also popular with both ladies and gentlemen, and here again the useful launch is brought into requisition to convey the party home, as an hour and a half to two hours is an average time to paddle a canoe; after that time the party land either on the rocks or on the shore, and light a fire and boil the kettle for tea. if the tea-drinking and the after-tea ramble are unduly prolonged there is a chance, if on the coast, of the steam-launch running out of coal, and of the party having to return home in their own canoes considerably later than was expected, and not a little fatigued. chapter xxix juvenile parties =juvenile parties= form a prominent feature in the entertainments given during the winter months. there is scarcely a household the children of which are not indulged with one large party at least, while others are allowed as many as two or three children's parties during the winter months. these parties offer no little elasticity as to their arrangement, varying from a child's tea party, composed, perhaps, of five or six children, to a juvenile ball, or fancy dress ball. some mothers object, on principle, to the latter entertainments, on the ground that to give a large juvenile ball provokes a corresponding number of invitations, and that a round of such gaieties is not good for young children, either from a moral or from a hygienic point of view. morally, that such amusements are likely to destroy or impair the freshness of childhood, and to engender artificial ideas in their young minds in place of such as are natural and healthy, and that the imitation of the manners and bearing of their elders causes them to become miniature men and women, and divests them of the attributes of artless and unaffected childhood. =the dresses worn by children= at these entertainments are of so elaborate a character--and so much pride is exhibited when wearing them--that a spirit of vanity and a love of dress are aroused at a prematurely early age. from a physical point of view, late hours, heated rooms, rich dainties, and constant excitement have a pernicious effect upon children. there is, of course, an opposite view taken by those who uphold juvenile balls; they consider that children are the better for associating with others of their own age outside of their own family circle, and that in the case of only children such association is calculated to render them lively and intelligent. another argument in favour of these juvenile parties is, that children who are in the habit of constantly attending them acquire self-possessed and confident manners, and that all shyness, _mauvaise honte_ and _gaucherie_, which distinguish many children when in the company of strangers, are dispelled by frequent intercourse with children of all ages. thus, in place of the noisy game of romps, the little gentlemen ask the little ladies to dance, pull costume bon-bons with their favourite partners, and offer them similar attentions throughout the evening. of course, there are shy little gentlemen and shy little ladies even at a juvenile ball; but it is the constant endeavour of those who accompany them, whether mammas, elder sisters, young aunts, or grown-up cousins, to persuade them to get the better of this diffidence, and to induce taciturn master tommy to dance with timid miss tiny. sometimes master tommy is obstinate, as well as taciturn, and his "won't" is as strong as his will. as with all things, so with children's parties, the medium course is, perhaps, the wisest to take, running into neither extreme--avoiding too much seclusion or overmuch gaiety, and rendering such gaiety and amusement suitable to the ages of the children invited. when an evening's entertainment consists of a series of amusements, it is a mistake to crowd too great a variety into the space of four hours, the usual limits of a child's party, for if so the programme has to be hurriedly gone through, and is hardly finished before the hour of departure. no little judgment is required when organising juvenile parties. the hours usually selected for children's parties, whether on a large or small scale, are from four to eight, five to nine, six to ten, or from seven to eleven. =the children on their arrival= are received in the drawing-room. in most cases their relatives, either mothers or grown-up sisters, are asked to accompany them. there is great punctuality observed as regards the hour of arrival, and tea is usually served in the dining-room about half an hour after that named on the invitation card. the interim is generally passed by children in watching each fresh arrival, and in greeting their little acquaintances, comparing notes with each other as to the teas and the parties they are going to, or in amusing themselves with the toys belonging to the children of the house, which are usually arranged on tables for this purpose; and mechanical toys, walking and talking birds, etc., musical toys, picture-books, and dolls, and the latest and newest inventions in the way of playthings afford the little visitors an opportunity for becoming at ease with each other. tea is generally dispensed at one end of a long table, and coffee at the opposite end. the governess usually pours out the tea, and one of the daughters of the house the coffee; or failing her, the head nurse or lady's maid does so. dishes of pound, plum, and sponge cake are placed the length of the table, interspersed with plates of thin bread-and-butter, biscuits, and preserves; either the ladies of the family or the servants in attendance hand them to the children. when the relatives accompany the children tea is usually served to them in another room, but frequently they do not arrive until tea is over, and the nurses accompany the children to the house. =amusements.=--the arrangements for the evening's amusement are regulated in a measure by the amount of accommodation a house affords, premising that boisterous games are not allowed in drawing-rooms, unless all valuable ornaments or things likely to be broken are removed from the rooms. if conjuring is one of the amusements provided, it generally takes place in the drawing-room immediately after tea, and lasts about an hour. a dancing-cloth is put down over the drawing-room carpet; rout seats or cane chairs are arranged in rows. the youngest children are seated in the first row. performing birds, performing dogs, or performing monkeys are also favourite amusements at these parties, and rank next to conjuring in the estimation of children. punch and judy or marionettes are popular drawing-room amusements, and either occupies the space of an hour. when a cinematograph show is the entertainment provided, it takes place in the dining-room or library, or perhaps in the housekeeper's room, if large enough for the purpose. dancing or games usually precede these amusements, and lasts from half to three-quarters of an hour; little girls dance with each other round and square dances, as little girls are, as a rule, more partial to dancing than are little boys, although they one and all, great and small, join with glee in a country dance, or in the tempête, or in "sir roger de coverley." not longer than an hour is devoted to dancing, and this is usually followed by games. impromptu charades is a favourite pastime with children; but to avoid the juvenile audience becoming weary and impatient during the preparation of the charades it is as well they should be amused with some quiet game, such as "forfeits," "cross questions and crooked answers," "proverbs," etc. at christmas and new year's parties the distribution of presents is a very important feature; christmas trees are now rather discarded in favour of greater novelties. "father christmas," "santa claus," "the fairy godmother," "the fairies' well," or the "lucky bag" and "the magic log," are some of the many devices for the distribution of presents; these popular characters are represented by grown-up persons, and provoke much wonder and admiration amongst children. the presents are usually given at the close of the evening. =light refreshments= are provided in the dining-room--lemonade, wine and water, every description of cake, sandwiches, crystallised fruits, french plums, figs, almonds and raisins, oranges, etc. bon-bons containing paper caps, etc., which afford children much amusement, are usually provided. when a juvenile ball is given a supper is provided; otherwise light refreshments are considered sufficient, and are served twice during the evening. sometimes the children of the family, if old enough and clever enough, act a little play--some nursery fairy tale, condensed into one act, such as "beauty and the beast," "cinderella," etc.--which lasts about an hour, and is followed by dancing. when a juvenile fancy ball is given, one or two fancy quadrilles are arranged beforehand, to be danced by the children in costume. chapter xxx written invitations =writing letters of invitation=, and answering letters of invitation, often occupy far longer time in the composition than the writers would care to confess. the difficulty does not lie in an invitation itself or in accepting or refusing it, but rather in the form in which either should be couched, the words that should be chosen, and the expressions that should be used; one person is afraid of being too _empressé_, another of being too formal or too stiff; one is fearful of saying too little, another of saying too much. when invitations are issued on dinner cards or on "at home" cards, the note of acceptance should be as brief as is the printed card of invitation, and to the printed card requesting the pleasure of mrs. blank's company at dinner, the stereotyped answer is invariably mrs. blank has much pleasure in accepting mrs. dash's kind invitation for saturday the st, or mrs. blank regrets that a previous engagement will prevent her having the pleasure of accepting mrs. dash's kind invitation for saturday, the st. as regards those invitations that refer to visits of some days' duration, those accustomed to give this description of entertainment, know exactly what to say and how to say it. the conventional civilities or affectionate cordialities, as the case may be, occur in their proper places; but one point is made clear in either case, namely, the length of the visit to be paid. there are people who are under the impression that to specify the exact length of a visit is in a degree inhospitable, and not sufficiently polite; and they, therefore, as a sort of compromise, use the ambiguous term "a few days" in lieu of distinctly defining the limit of these invitations. so far from vague invitations such as these being an advantage to invited guests, they not seldom place them at a disadvantage at more points than one. they are uncertain on what day they are to take their departure. they do not wish by leaving a day earlier to disarrange any little plans that their hostess may have contemplated for their amusement; neither do they wish to prolong their visit a day later, lest by so doing they should break in upon any engagements that she may have formed on her own account independently of her visitors. it is also not a little awkward for guests to tell their hostess that they think of leaving on thursday by . train. it might have suited the hostess very much better that her visitors should have left on the wednesday, and in her own mind she had perhaps intended that the visit should end on that day; but, having left the invitation open, more or less, by saying "a few days," there is nothing left for her but to sacrifice her own arrangements to the convenience of her guests, as without discourtesy she could hardly suggest to them that they should leave a day earlier than the one they had named, and the visitors remain unconscious of having in any way trespassed upon the good nature of their hostess. "a few days" is also an unsatisfactory wording of an invitation to visitors themselves; as a rule, it means three or four days, but there is also an uncertainty as to whether the fourth day should be taken or not. those who interpret "a few days" to mean three days, make their plans for departure accordingly; failing this, they are compelled to leave their plans open, and stay from three to five days, according as chance and circumstances may dictate. a lady would perhaps require a little addition to her wardrobe in the matter of a five days' visit over that of a three days' stay; but this is a trifling detail, although it helps to swell the list of minor inconveniences which are the result of vague invitations. there are, of course, exceptions to every rule, and there are people who use this phrase of "will you come and see us for a few days?" in the _bonâ fide_ sense of the word, and to whom it is immaterial whether their guests remain three days or six days; but such an elastic invitation as this is usually given to a relative, or to a very intimate friend, whose footing in the house is that of a relation, and with whom the hostess does not stand on ceremony, as far as her own engagements are concerned; and people on these friendly terms can talk over their departure with their hostess, and consult her about it without the faintest embarrassment. =the most satisfactory invitation= is certainly the one that mentions the day of arrival and the day of departure. thus, after the _raison d'être_ of the invitation has been stated, the why and the wherefore of its being given follows the gist of the letter: "we hope you will come to us on wednesday the rd, and remain until the th." it is, of course, open to a hostess to ask her visitors to prolong their stay beyond the date named if she sees reason for so doing; but this is the exception rather than the rule in the case of short visits, and guests take their departure as a matter of course on the day named in the invitation. hostess and guests are perfectly at ease upon the subject, and guests do not feel on delicate ground with their hostess, or fear to outstay their welcome. when a visit has been paid it is polite, if not imperative, to write to the hostess and express the pleasure that has been derived from it. oftener than not some little matter arises which necessitates a note being written apart from this; but whether or not, good feeling and good taste would dictate that some such note should be written, and, as it can always include little matters of general interest in connection with the past visit, it need neither be over ceremonious nor coldly polite. =to write a letter asking for an invitation=, or to answer a letter asking for an invitation, is in either case a difficult letter to write, as many have ere this discovered. when a married lady asks for an invitation for a young relative or friend staying with her, to some dance or "at home" to which she herself is invited, the note is simple enough, and the answer is generally a card of invitation or a written permission to bring her. again, in the case of asking for invitations for gentlemen, if a lady is going to a ball, she can without hesitation, ask for cards of invitation for one or two gentlemen friends of her own, mentioning their names in the note. in this case also the answer is generally in the affirmative, as men are always acquisitions at a ball. the awkwardness of the situation arises when a good-natured person is solicited to obtain an invitation to a smart ball for a lady and her daughters, or for the young ladies only, the latter knowing some one who would chaperon them if they could only get an invitation. if the lady who asks for the invitation is a fashionable ball-giver, the probability is that her request will be granted; but if the contrary, the reverse will most likely be the case. even when writing to an intimate friend, there is always a delicacy in asking for an invitation for a third person, and society appears to become, year after year, still more exclusive on this point. many people are reluctant, or decline altogether, to put themselves under an obligation of this nature, even for those with whom they are most intimate; it may be that the number of refusals good-natured people have received from their friends when trying to render services of this description, have made them chary of putting themselves forward again in a similar manner: it is chilling to be told that the list is over full, or that so many people have been refused already, or that there is not a card to spare. but a few years ago a ball was not considered a success unless it was an over-crowded one; the popularity of the ball-giver was shown by the guests scarcely being able to find standing-room. thus, invitations were given right and left to the friends of those who asked for them. but the fashion of to-day is to style a crowded ball-room a "bear-garden," and to confine the invitations, with but very few exceptions, to those who are strictly on the visiting list of the ball-giver; and pretty girls may sigh in vain for an invitation to a ball given even by a relative or acquaintance of their own, if not on their visiting list. still, invitations are constantly asked for by people for their friends, and sometimes they are given and sometimes they are refused, as the case may be, but much depends upon the position of the one who solicits the favour. if the giver of an entertainment wishes to oblige the petitioner, she will stretch a point to do so; if not, she will write a polite note of excuse, giving one of the reasons before mentioned. it is thoroughly understood people do not ask for invitations for themselves, whatever they may do for their friends, and that they would not do so unless they were themselves invited. living at a distance modifies, however, this latter rule; and friends in the country often ask for invitations for friends in town, and _vice versâ_. =dinner invitations= are, as a matter of course, never asked for; but invitations to garden-parties, afternoon "at homes," and afternoon teas, are frequently asked for and readily given. some are intimate enough at the house where they visit to take a relative or friend with them to these afternoon gatherings without observing the punctiliousness of asking for an invitation; others, on less intimate terms, do not venture upon doing so. in all cases when an invitation is asked for, a hostess should never neglect to send a reply, and should not take for granted that her friends will naturally understand that silence gives consent, for under the circumstances it is very possible to interpret it to signify a refusal. chapter xxxi refusing invitations many reasons exist for declining invitations other than the plea of a prior engagement. "mrs. m. regrets ('much regrets,' or 'very much regrets') that a previous engagement prevents her having the pleasure of accepting mrs. n.'s 'invitation,' or 'kind invitation.'" when on more intimate terms, mrs. m. should write in the first person when declining an invitation. it is an open question whether the nature of the engagement should be stated or not. even intimate friends often confine themselves to the statement of the bare fact only that a prior engagement exists; others, on the contrary, state the nature of the engagement, and there is no doubt that this latter course considerably softens a refusal and lessens the disappointment experienced, and therefore, when practicable, should always be followed. when a prior engagement cannot be made the basis of a refusal, then the refusal must rest on other lines; ill health, a severe cold, etc., are valid excuses. failing these, the refusal should be as follows:--"mrs. z. regrets she is unable to accept mrs. x.'s kind invitation, etc." it occasionally happens that it is desirable to break an engagement, circumstances having changed the aspect of things. the invitation, perhaps, was a verbal one, and a refusal was not easy at the moment. again, impromptu invitations are sometimes refused, having been too hastily accepted--the servant who brought the note waited for an answer, and on the impulse of the moment an affirmative answer was given; the wife had not time to consult her husband, and accepted for him as well as for herself; or perhaps some potent domestic reason that could not be explained induced a subsequent refusal. the fashionable world accepts refusals as a matter of course, and fills up the gaps with other invitations. refusals of dinner invitations from those for whom a dinner-party was partly originated are always disappointing, even to the most popular of dinner givers, in the same way that the absence of the principal neighbour from a county entertainment is felt to cast a shadow over the proceedings of the day. although printed cards of acceptance and of refusal are in general use, yet many cases arise which render written refusals imperative. as regards the refusal of invitations asked for, such requests should not be made unless on very safe ground, and with a certainty of meeting with acquiescence, yet occasionally these requests are either unwelcome or inadmissible, and refusals are consequently given; but, unless worded with tact and good nature, they are often the cause of strained relations between both friends and acquaintances. chapter xxxii walking, driving, and riding =the usual hours for walking= in the park are from until . a.m. the hours for afternoon walking and sitting in the park are from to p.m. during the summer months. the fashionable hours for walking in the park on sunday are from to p.m., both in winter and summer; and from to p.m. in the summer months. married ladies can, if they please, walk out unaccompanied or unattended in places of public resort in town or on the parades of fashionable watering-places; but married ladies, especially if they are young, usually prefer the society of another lady, not so much, perhaps, for propriety as for companionship, as to walk alone, either in town or at fashionable watering-places, renders a lady more or less conspicuous, especially if she is attractive and well dressed. a young lady can now also walk by herself in the park for the purpose of joining her friends and acquaintances, both in the morning and in the afternoon, but she should not sit alone. again, young ladies may walk alone in the fashionable streets, but they should not loiter when alone at shop-windows as they pass, but walk at a quick pace from shop to shop, or from street to street. in the quiet neighbourhoods of towns, suburban towns, and watering-places, young ladies walk unaccompanied and unattended to visit their friends residing in the near vicinity of their homes, or to attend classes, or for the purpose of shopping, etc. indeed, great independence is generally accorded in this respect, the line being drawn at evening hours--that is to say, at walking alone after dusk. at watering-places, and at all public promenades, it is usual for gentlemen to join ladies with whom they are acquainted, and to walk with them for a short time when it is apparent that their company is desired, but not otherwise. ladies and gentlemen, whether related or not, should never walk arm-in-arm, unless the lady is an elderly one, or an invalid, and requires this support. =driving.=--from to . are the received hours for the afternoon drive during the summer, and from . to . during the winter. the following rules as regards entering and leaving a carriage apply to a motor-car or an electric brougham as far as the construction, make, and size of the same render it possible. when driving in an open or close carriage or motor-car it is quite immaterial whether the owner occupies the right-hand or the left-hand seat. the seat she occupies depends upon which side she enters, as the lady driving with her should enter before her and should seat herself on the furthest seat. a visitor should always enter the motor-car or carriage before the hostess. when three ladies enter a motor-car or carriage the young unmarried lady should take the back seat and the two married ladies should occupy the front seat; this is a matter of courtesy on the part of a young lady due to married ladies and not strictly demanded by etiquette. a husband should sit with his back to the horses, or by the side of the chauffeur in the case of a motor-car, when a lady is driving with his wife. a gentleman should be the first to get out of a motor-car or carriage, with a view to assisting the ladies to do so. as a rule the hostess should leave the carriage or car after her guest and not before her, unless it is more convenient to do otherwise. when a lady is merely calling for an acquaintance to take her for a drive, she should not descend from her car or carriage for the purpose of allowing her to enter it before her. in the afternoon young ladies may drive alone in the public thoroughfares, unaccompanied by married ladies. it is permissible for a young lady to drive alone in the park or in the streets. a married lady can, as a matter of course, drive unaccompanied. it would be unconventional were a lady to drive alone with a gentleman in his motor-car, unless he were nearly related to her, or unless she were engaged to be married to him. it is usual for the owner of a carriage to sit with her face to the horses; when a married lady is driving with her she should sit beside her. when young ladies are driving with her in addition to the married lady they should sit with their backs to the horses. when a lady is driving with her husband, and a young lady accompanies her, she should not offer the front seat to the young lady, but should retain it herself, and even should the offer be made, a young lady should not avail herself of it. =riding.=--as regards riding in town, the hours for practice in the row are from to a.m. in summer and to a.m. in winter, for inexperienced riders and beginners; young ladies ride with a riding-master or with a riding-mistress, or with a relative, as the case may be. the hours for riding in the park range from . to . a.m. it is thoroughly understood that a lady may ride in the park alone--that is, unaccompanied or unattended--for the purpose of joining her friends. it is argued, in these days of woman's emancipation, that no possible harm or annoyance can arise from the fact of a lady riding unattended, beyond the always possible chance of an accident. although great latitude is now allowed to young ladies with regard to riding alone, many parents still prefer that their daughters should be attended by their grooms. two ladies frequently ride together, unaccompanied by a gentleman and unattended by a groom. chapter xxxiii bowing as regards the recognition of friends or acquaintances, it is the privilege of a lady to take the initiative, by being the first to bow. a gentleman should not raise his hat to a lady until she has accorded him this mark of recognition, although the act of bowing is a simultaneous action on the part of both lady and gentleman, as a lady would hardly bestow a bow upon a gentleman not prepared to return it. the bow between intimate acquaintances takes the character, when given by a lady, of a familiar nod in place of a stiff bow. =when a gentleman returns the bow= of a lady he should do so by distinctly taking his hat off and as quickly replacing it, not merely raising it slightly, as formerly, and if he is an intimate acquaintance or friend, he should act in a similar manner. in france and on the continent generally, the rule of bowing is reversed, and the gentleman is the first to bow to the lady, instead of the lady to the gentleman. between ladies but slightly acquainted, the one of highest rank should be the first to bow to the other; between ladies of equal rank it is immaterial which of the two bows first. =a lady should not bow= to persons only known to her by sight, although she may frequently have seen them in the company of her friends. a lady should bow to a gentleman, either a friend or acquaintance, even when he is walking with either a lady or gentleman, with whom she is unacquainted. gentlemen do not raise their hats in recognition of each other, but simply nod, when not walking with ladies, save when a vast difference exists in rank or age. when a gentleman meets another--a friend of his--walking with a lady or ladies, with whom he himself is unacquainted, he should raise his hat and look straight before him, not at the lady or ladies. a lady should not bow to another who, being a stranger to her, has addressed a few remarks to her at an afternoon party, as the fact of meeting at the house of a mutual friend does not constitute an acquaintanceship, and does not authorise a future bowing acquaintance. ladies, as a rule, are not too ready to bow to those whom they have merely conversed with in a casual way. in the first place, they are not quite certain of being remembered, and nothing is more disconcerting and disagreeable than to bow to a person who does not return it through forgetfulness of the one who has given it, or through shortsightedness, or through actual intention. short-sighted people are always offending in the matter of not bowing, and almost every third person, comparatively speaking, complains of being more or less short-sighted; thus it behoves ladies to discover for themselves the strength and length of sight possessed by their new acquaintances, or the chances are that their bow may never be returned, or they may continue to labour under the impression that they have received a cut direct; thus many pleasant acquaintances are lost through this misapprehension, and many erroneous impressions created. =a bowing acquaintance= is a difficult and tiresome one to maintain for any length of time, when opportunities do not arise for increasing it. the irksomeness of keeping it up is principally experienced by persons meeting day after day in the park or on public promenades, riding, driving, or walking, more especially when it is tacitly understood that the acquaintance should not develop into a further acquaintance. it would be considered discourteous to discontinue a bowing acquaintance which has once been commenced. to know a gentleman by sight through having frequently seen him at balls and parties, does not give a lady the right to bow to him, even though she may have stood beside him for some twenty minutes or so on a crowded staircase, and may have received some slight civility from him. a lady who has received a little service from a stranger would gladly acknowledge it at any subsequent meeting by a pleasant bow, but as bowing to a gentleman argues an acquaintance with him, and as in such cases as these an acquaintance does not exist, etiquette provides no compromise in the matter. therefore, if a young lady takes her own line, and rather than appear ungracious bows to a gentleman who has not been introduced to her either directly or indirectly, it is a breach of etiquette on her part; and as to do an unconventional thing is not desirable, the innumerable little services which ladies receive in general society are not further acknowledged beyond the thanks expressed at the moment of their being received. =bows vary materially=: there is the friendly bow, the distant bow, the ceremonious bow, the deferential bow, the familiar bow, the reluctant bow, and so on, according to the feelings that actuate individuals in their intercourse with each other. when a bowing acquaintance only exists between ladies and gentlemen, and they meet perhaps two or three times during the day, and are not sufficiently intimate to speak, they do not usually bow more than once, when thus meeting in park or promenade. chapter xxxiv the cockade =cockades are worn= by servants in livery of officers in the army and navy, and all those who hold his majesty's commission; also of lords-lieutenants and deputy-lieutenants. retainers of the crown are entitled to the use of the cockade as a badge of the reigning dynasty. the fact that cockades are now so frequently worn by men-servants may be accounted for thus: deputy-lieutenants are far more numerous now than was formerly the case; almost every country gentleman is a deputy-lieutenant, and consequently his servants are entitled to the use of the cockade. the privilege of appearing in uniform at levées instead of in court dress has been and is an incentive to many to seek for and obtain the appointment of deputy-lieutenant. again, all justices of the peace claim the use of the cockade as being "civil retainers of the crown"; and although there is no clearly defined rule on this head, according to the late sir albert woods, garter-king-at-arms, it has long been tacitly conceded to them. the custom of livery servants wearing cockades dates from the commencement of the eighteenth century, and was at first purely a military distinction. the cockade worn by the servants of the members of the royal family, and by all who claim to be of royal descent, is slightly different in shape from that known as the badge of the reigning dynasty, _i.e._ the hanoverian badge, and is round in shape and without a fan. the military cockade is of an oval shape, terminating in a fan. the civil cockade is of an oval shape also, but without the fan. the naval cockade is identical with the civil cockade. the white cockade is the badge of the house of stuart. the black cockade that of the house of hanover. the servants of foreign ambassadors wear cockades in colour according to their nationalities. black and white for germany; black and yellow for austria; the tricolour for france; scarlet for spain; blue and white for portugal; and black and yellow for belgium. the word cockade, according to a well-known authority, was borrowed from the french _cocarde_, having originally been applied to the plumes of cock's feathers worn by croatian soldiers serving in the french army. some such plume, or in its place a bunch of ribbons, came to be used in pinning up the flaps of the hat into a cocked position, and thus gradually the word passed for the name of the "cocked" hat itself. chapter xxxv country-house visits september is actually the commencement of the country visiting season, the few visits that are paid in august are but a prelude to the programme that is to follow during the succeeding five months. =the visitors received in august= are principally relatives. the exceptions to the august family parties are the august cricket parties in the counties where cricket is made a great feature during that month, where the cricket weeks and consequent large country-house parties are of annual recurrence, and where balls and private theatricals form part of the week's amusement. it often follows that people visit at the same houses year after year, they arrange their tour of visits with regard to those invitations which they annually receive; new acquaintances and new houses whereat to visit are added to the list from time to time and take the place of those which, as a matter of course, drop out of it. sometimes the invitations fit into each other admirably, like the pieces of a puzzle; at others there is an awkward interval of a day, or two or three days, to be filled up between leaving one house and arriving at another. if the hostess is, in either case, a relation or an intimate friend, this difficulty is easily surmounted by staying on at one house until the day fixed for arrival at another, or _vice versâ_; but if a guest is on ceremony with her hostess, or if, as is often the case, new arrivals are expected for the following week, the alternative is to spend a few days in town, as although the house where the next visit to be paid might be within twenty or thirty miles of the house the visitor is about to leave, it would be unusual to spend the interval at an hotel in the adjacent town, as to do so might reflect upon the hospitality of the hostess. on the other hand, invitations are sometimes given independently of dates, but this friendly style of invitation is not given when a large party is invited, and it is understood to mean that the hostess may be quite alone, or may have guests staying with her, as the case may be. this form of invitation is frequently given to people visiting in scotland, on account of the great distance from town. it is a very general custom to give shooting parties the third week in september, harvest permitting. if the harvest is late on account of unfavourable weather the shooting parties are postponed until the first week in the ensuing month. the guests, or at least the crack guns, are usually invited for partridge driving, which is what partridge shooting now actually amounts to. there are large shooting parties and small shooting parties, shooting parties to which royalty is invited and shooting parties restricted to intimate friends or relations, but in either case the period is the same, three days' shooting. =if a party is limited to five guns=, seven ladies is the average number invited, the hostess relying upon a neighbour or a neighbour's son to equalise the balance at the dinner-table. the success of house-parties mainly depends upon people knowing each other, or fraternising when they are introduced or have made each other's acquaintance. the ladies of a country-house party are expected, as a rule, to amuse themselves, more or less, during the day. after luncheon there is usually a drive to a neighbouring town, a little shopping to be done there, or a call to be paid in the neighbourhood by some of the party, notably the married ladies, the young ladies being left to their own resources. at the close of a visit game is offered to those of the shooters to whom it is known that it will be acceptable. the head gamekeeper is usually instructed to put up a couple of brace of pheasants and a hare. but in some houses even this custom is not followed, and the whole of the game killed, with the exception of what is required for the house, finds its way into the market, both the local market and the london market. * * * * * shooting parties as a rule give a hostess little anxiety on the score of finding amusement for the ladies of the party, as so many aids out of doors are at her command at this season of the year. this is a great advantage, as although some few ladies possessing great strength of nerve have taken up shooting as an amusement and pastime and acquit themselves surprisingly well in this manly sport, yet ladies in general are not inclined for so dangerous a game, and even those intrepid ladies who have learnt how to use their little gun would never be permitted to make one or two of a big shooting party, even were they so inclined. the hostess and the ladies of the party invariably join the shooters at luncheon, and some of the ladies go out with the shooters in the morning to watch their prowess in the field; but this entails a great deal of walking where partridge shooting is concerned, which is quite another thing to covert shooting in november and december. =a good hostess has great opportunities= for distinguishing herself when entertaining a country-house party, from the arrival of the first motor-car to the departure of the last. her consideration and tact are so successfully exerted that somehow her guests always find themselves doing exactly what they like best and in company with those who are most congenial to them, to say nothing of the comfort of the general domestic arrangements, which seem to have been arranged exclusively for their convenience. if they wish to drive, there is a carriage or motor-car at their disposal; if they prefer a constitutional, there is some one very agreeable desirous of walking with them. the daily papers are always to be found, the post-bag goes out at a most convenient hour by the hand of a special messenger, the dinner is of the best, and the evening is of the cheeriest. bridge as a rule is played in most houses, and several tables are arranged in the drawing-room to accommodate the would-be players. occasionally, when the birds are wild and sport is slack, a sort of picnic luncheon is held in the vicinity of a keeper's lodge, under the shade of some wide-spreading trees, when the ladies join the party; but in september keen sportsmen rather despise this playing at shooting, and resent the interruption caused by the company of ladies at luncheon, and prefer to take it in the rough and smoke the while. every day of the week is not thus given up to shooting, and there are few owners of manors who would care to provide five days' consecutive sport for their guests, and two days' hard shooting is probably followed by what is called an idle day. on these off days in september the hostess often gives a garden-party, or takes her guests to one given by a neighbour at some few miles distant; or she holds a stall at a bazaar and persuades her guests to assist her in disposing of her stock; or she induces her party to accompany her to some flower-show in which she takes a local interest; or the host and one or two of the best shots start early after breakfast to shoot with a neighbour, and the remainder of the guests drive over to a picturesque ruin, where they picnic, and return home in time for the eight-o'clock dinner. if the owner of a mansion has a coach the whole party is conveyed on it, otherwise the motor-cars are brought into requisition, while saddle horses are provided for those who care to ride. a country-house party occasionally resolves itself into two or more cliques, as far as the ladies are concerned; gentlemen, as a rule, are not much given to this sort of thing. on the first evening, as soon as the ladies have left the dining-room for the drawing-room, these little cliques are tacitly formed, and continue unbroken until the close of the visit. there are many reasons which call these cliques into existence--old intimacies revived, new acquaintanceships to be strengthened, unwelcome acquaintanceships to be avoided, and so on. these cliques are by no means agreeable to the hostess, indeed, quite the contrary--but she is powerless to prevent their being formed, and she is herself sometimes drawn into one or other of them, and sometimes altogether excluded from them. any one who is at all conversant with country-house visiting is aware how thoroughly the influence of the clique pervades the atmosphere of the drawing-room; and yet, perhaps, at country-house parties more friendships are formed and intimacies cemented than at any other gatherings. =the evening amusements= at country-house parties vary very much according to the proclivities of the hostess or those of her daughters. at some houses dancing is the order of things for a couple of hours or so after dinner, but this mode of spending the evening does not always commend itself to the gentlemen, who, after a long day's walking through wet turnips and over heavy ploughed land, or a hard day's riding over stiff fences, rather incline towards the _dolce far niente_ of a luxurious armchair than to the pleasures of the mazy valse, and are proportionately grateful to a hostess who does not call upon them to undergo any further exercise than what they have already gone through for their own pleasure. in most country-house parties bridge forms the chief if not the only amusement, and is played not only after dinner but in the afternoon also. amateur theatricals and _tableaux vivants_, impromptu charades, thought reading, conjuring, etc., are fashionable amusements and easy of accomplishment: the first-named of these demands considerable study and plenty of time for rehearsal, therefore theatricals are generally engaged in when the party is composed of relatives rather than of acquaintances, and when the visit would be perhaps prolonged to ten days or a fortnight. some hostesses prefer keeping late hours to early hours, and do not retire until after twelve; this does not commend itself to the gentlemen, as they are not supposed to adjourn to the smoking-room until the ladies have left the drawing-room, and gentlemen like to spend a couple of hours in the smoking-room after dinner. =in hunting counties= the breakfast is usually an early one, varying from nine o'clock to half-past nine, according to whether the ride to covert is likely to be a long or a short one; but, as a rule, the nominal breakfast hour is . o'clock. a certain amount of latitude is allowed to guests as regards coming down to breakfast; they do not assemble in the morning-room, but all make their way to the breakfast-room, and seat themselves at once at table, while many ladies breakfast in their own rooms. =in scotland, an invitation to shoot= often means a visit of three weeks. the accommodation of the shooting-box or lodge may be limited or primitive, and it is very often both of these; but it matters very little to the sportsman what sort of bed he sleeps on, or how he is made to rough it, providing the grouse are plentiful. on some of the moors there are but cottages and farmhouses for the occupation of the sportsmen, but on others the houses are excellent, and let with the moors, as many take a moor season after season and invite their friends to shoot between the th of august and october. the grand shooting parties that are annually given in scotland by owners of large estates and fine shootings extends throughout the whole of the shooting season, and guests come and go without intermission; as one leaves another arrives. certain houses or castles are much gayer than others; to some very few ladies are asked, the majority of the guests being gentlemen--probably the hostess and two ladies and eight men--in others, the numbers are more equal; in others, again, the party sometimes consists entirely of men with a host and no hostess. ladies generally ask their most intimate friends to scotland rather than acquaintances, as they are left to themselves the whole of the day, dinner being often postponed until nine o'clock, on account of the late return of the sportsmen. =south of the tweed, september invitations= are usually given for three or four days, from tuesday till saturday; married couples, young ladies, and young men, are all asked, and the ladies find amusement in lawn-tennis, or in attending or assisting at some neighbouring bazaar or fancy fair, as in this month county bazaars are very popular, and the visitors at one house lend their services in conjunction with the visitors at another, to hold stalls at a bazaar got up by a third influential lady; and thus the stalls are well stocked, and the fashionable stall-holders give an impetus to the whole affair. ladies see very little of the gentlemen between breakfast and dinner. the shooters start about eleven, and seldom return much before seven. when it is dark at four, those who prefer ladies' society and tea to the smoking-room and billiards, make themselves presentable and join the ladies. =as regards the etiquette of visiting at bachelors' houses.=--it is thoroughly understood that ladies should be accompanied by their husbands, and young ladies by their father and mother, or by a married couple with whom they are on terms of great intimacy, in which case the married lady acts as chaperon to the young ladies. young ladies cannot stay at the house of a bachelor unless chaperoned by a married lady, or by a female relative of their host. a widow and her daughter could of course join a party of ladies staying at a bachelor's house, or stay on a visit to him were he alone, or entertaining bachelor friends. when a bachelor gives a country-house party, and nominally does the honours himself, occasionally one of the married ladies of the party tacitly takes the lead. the position of a young widower is similar to that of a bachelor as regards society. later in life, the contrary is the case; a widower with grown-up daughters gives entertainments for them, and the eldest daughter does the honours, thus reducing the position again to that of host and hostess. chapter xxxvi hunting and shooting =ladies in the hunting-field.=--there is no arena better fitted to display good riding on the part of women than the hunting-field, and no better opportunity for the practice of this delightful accomplishment and for its thorough enjoyment. it is urged, however, that it argues cruelty of disposition and unwomanly feeling to join in the pursuit of a poor, miserable, hunted fox, and worse still to be in at the death, and that women are liable to be carried away by the enthusiasm of the hour to applaud and to witness what they would otherwise shrink from. this argument has a certain weight, and deters many from actually hunting who would otherwise join in the sport, and they make a compromise by regularly attending the meets, and even witnessing a throw-off of a fox-break covert. every strong point that a rider possesses is brought out in the field. the canter in the row, the trot through the country-lanes, or the long country ride are very feeble substitutes for the intense enjoyment experienced when taking part in a good run; the excitement felt and shared in by the whole field exhilarates and stimulates, and renders fatigue a thing out of the question, not to be thought of until the homeward ride is well over. considering the number of ladies who hunt, the accidents that occur are surprisingly few, for the obvious reason that ladies do not attempt to hunt unless their skill as good horsewomen is beyond all question. their husbands, their fathers, their brothers would not allow them to jeopardise their lives, unless their riding and experience, their courage, their nerve, and their instruction justified the attempt. there are also two other weighty considerations necessary to success--a good mount, and a good lead. the father or husband invariably selects the one, and the friend--either of the fair rider or of the husband or brother--gives the all-important lead, without which few ladies venture upon hunting, save those few who are independent enough to cut out their own work. ladies, who are naturally fond of riding, cannot always indulge in the pleasure of hunting, on the ground of expense, for instance. a lady may possess a fairly good horse for ordinary purposes, to ride in the row, or for country exercise, but very few gentlemen of moderate means can afford to keep hunters for the ladies of their families as well as for themselves, although, in fiction, this is freely done. if a lady has one good hunter of her own, she may expect two days' hunting a week, providing the country is not too stiff, and the meets are fairly convenient. occasionally, a mount may be obtained from a good-natured friend, whose stud is larger than his requirements; but this is not to be depended upon in every-day life, and popular ladies and first-rate riders are more in the way of receiving these attentions than the general run of ladies. as regards the presence of young ladies in the hunting-field, there are two opinions respecting its advisability, apart from the question of whether it is or is not a feminine pursuit. the long ride home in the november and december twilight, in the company of some member of the hunt, who has become the young lady's cavalier for the time being, is not to the taste of many parents; chaperonage must of necessity be greatly dispensed with in the hunting-field, and this is an objection which many fathers advance against their daughters hunting. some husbands entertain equally strict views on this head, and are of opinion that the boldest rider and the best lead to follow in the field is not always the guest they would most desire to see at their own firesides. =hunt-breakfasts.=--a lady should not go to a hunt-breakfast at the house of a country gentleman if unacquainted with him, or some member of his family, unless asked to do so by a mutual acquaintance. all gentlemen riding to hounds, whether strangers to the host or not, have the privilege of entering any house where a hunt-breakfast is given and accepting the hospitality offered. the breakfast, which is in reality a cold collation, with the addition of wine, liqueurs, ale, etc., is usually laid out in the dining-room, and no ceremony whatever is observed; the gentlemen come and go as they please. the mistress of the house should either be present at a hunt-breakfast and receive the ladies who arrive in the hall or dining-room, or she should receive them in the drawing-room, where refreshments should be brought to them. when a hostess intends riding to hounds, she is often mounted before her neighbours arrive, in which case she invites them to enter the house for refreshments, if they care to do so. =gentlemen who go down into a county= for a few days' hunting only seldom wear "pink," and prefer riding to hounds in black coats. the members of the hunt wear pink as a matter of course, but it is considered better taste for a stranger to wear a black coat than to appear in a _new_, _very new_, unspecked red one. =sporting terms.=--persons unversed in matters appertaining to "country life" and "country sports," town bred, and who have had little or no opportunity of acquiring a knowledge of the subject from personal experience, can hardly fail to commit many and various mistakes when brought into contact with sportsmen and their sports. a knowledge of sporting matters and sporting terms, and the etiquette observed by sportsmen, is only arrived at by associating with those thoroughly conversant with the subject, and with whom "sport" has formed part of their education so to speak. =the shooting season commences= on the th of august with grouse shooting in the north of england, scotland, and ireland. partridge shooting commences on the st of september and terminates on the st of february. the finest partridge shooting is allowed by general consent to be found in the eastern counties. partridge driving does not take place until january to any great extent. =pheasant shooting= commences the st of october and terminates the st of february. =hares= may be shot up to the st of march. =rabbits= may be shot all the year round. =rooks= are shot during the spring and summer. * * * * * it is difficult to make a would-be sportsman comprehend the strict etiquette maintained between the owners of manors; that is to say, he would think nothing of crossing the boundary of his host's manor, "gun in hand," if he felt inclined to follow a bird or hare he had wounded, oblivious of the fact that, in the first place, the greatest punctiliousness is observed between gentlemen in the matter of trespassing on each other's land when out shooting; and, that unless the greatest intimacy existed, a sportsman would hardly venture to pick up his dead bird if it had fallen on a neighbour's manor, and would on no account look for a wounded bird, but for a dead one only. in the second place he would carefully observe the rule of leaving his gun on his own side of the boundary, and would certainly not carry it with him to his neighbour's land. these are points that strangers invited for a few days' shooting very often fall foul of, creating thereby much unpleasantness for their host through their ignorance and inexperience. =when a gentleman is invited to join= a shooting-party, it would not be necessary for him to take a loader with him, as his host would find a man to perform that office for him, unless he had a servant with him capable of performing that duty; but if he were residing in the neighbourhood he would, as a matter of course, take his loader with him when asked to join a shooting-party, and in both cases he would shoot with two guns, as to shoot with one gun only causes a vexatious delay. a frequent cause of offence to sportsmen is for a gentleman to be noisy when out shooting, that is to say, to be "loudly talkative," or "boisterously merry," or given to indulge in exclamations when a bird rises, or when a bird is missed; your true sportsman maintains a strict silence. there are numberless other points relating to field sports wherein the "inexperienced sportsman" is apt to give offence, but which would take up too much space to enter into in a work of this description. =the fees, or tips to the gamekeepers=, vary from _s._ to £ , according to the number of days' shooting enjoyed or the extent of the bag. for one day's partridge-shooting the tip to the head gamekeeper would be a sovereign; for a good day's pheasant-shooting, as much as two sovereigns would probably be given. a gentleman who does not tip or fee up to this mark is not likely to find himself too well placed in a battue. the cost of a game licence is £ , and lasts twelve months, from st august to the st of july the following year, or £ from the st of august to the st of october, or £ from the st of november to the st of july in the following year, or £ for fourteen days. chapter xxxvii shaking hands the etiquette with regard to shaking hands is not an open question, it is distinct enough and simple enough for all exigencies, but yet there is individual temperament to be taken into account which in many drives etiquette out of the field, if by etiquette is understood not merely stiff propriety of action, but politeness in the truest sense of the word, and doing that which is exactly the right thing to do. etiquette rules when to shake hands and when not to do so, when to bow and when not to bow; but in spite of this knowledge, which is within every one's reach, there are many mistakes made on this head. for instance, one does not offer to shake hands when expected to do so; another offers to shake hands three times; one displays unwarrantable warmth in shaking hands; another extends two fingers only; one shakes hands in a limp and uncomfortable manner, and takes the extended hand merely to drop it; another literally pumps the extended hand, or crushes the rings into a lady's fingers when shaking hands with her. =a lady who does not shake hands= when expected to do so is actuated by one or other of the following reasons--she did not wish to shake hands with a certain acquaintance, and preferred to bow only, or she was not aware whether she should have shaken hands or not. the gentlemen who shake hands with great warmth and _empressement_ are two distinct individuals; the one is cordial and large-hearted, and has a friendly grasp for every one--a grasp indicative of kindliness, geniality, and good fellowship--the other wishes to ingratiate himself in certain quarters, and loses no opportunity of demonstratively shaking hands, but no one is deceived by this spurious imitation of the real thing. =when a lady gives but two fingers= to people whom she does not care about, she is always a person who fancies herself, and who feels very fine; she doubtless is, but her good breeding and her good feeling are both in question when she takes this method of showing the superiority of herself and her position over that of other people. there are other eccentricities indulged in by different people who shake hands when they should not, and people who do not shake hands when they should. it depends upon whom a lady is introduced to, or upon who is introduced to her, whether she should or should not shake hands. she should not shake hands on being casually introduced to a person altogether a stranger to her; but yet there are so many occasions when it is both proper and correct to shake hands on being introduced, that the rule on this head is a very elastic one. for instance, a host and hostess should shake hands with every stranger introduced to them at their house. a lady should shake hands on being introduced to the relations of her intended husband. a lady should shake hands on being introduced to the friend of an intimate friend. when a lady has entered into conversation to any extent with some one to whom she has been introduced, and finds she has much in common with her, she should shake hands on taking leave; but if she has only exchanged a few commonplace sentences, a bow would be all that is necessary. a lady usually takes the initiative with regard to shaking hands as with bowing; but in reality it is a spontaneous movement, made by both lady and gentleman at the same moment, as the hand ought not to be extended or the bow given unless expected and instantaneously reciprocated. a young lady should not offer to shake hands with one not expectant of the honour. =shaking hands on taking leave is=, with some few people, a graceful and pleasant fashion of saying good-bye; intimate friends hold the hand while the last words are being said. women hold each other's hands thus on parting, and some few men take each other's hands; but with them it is rather a foreign fashion, and is principally followed by those who have lived much on the continent; for, as a rule, an englishman prefers the hearty english shake of the hand. a lady having once shaken hands with another, should continue to do so at subsequent meetings, unless a coolness of manner warns her that a bow would be more acceptable. with regard to shaking hands at a dinner-party with acquaintances: if the dinner-party is a small one, and there is time to shake hands, it is correct to do so; but when there is little time before dinner, and no good opportunity for shaking hands, bows to acquaintances at distant parts of the room, or when seated at the dinner-table, are sufficient recognition for the time being. at an evening-party it depends upon opportunity whether acquaintances shake hands or not. =the fashion of raising the arm= when shaking hands is followed by very few in the exaggerated style in which it was first introduced, but a modification of it has distinctly become the fashion in general society. the hand, instead of being extended straight out, is now offered on a line or parallel with the chest, a trifle higher than the old-fashioned style, and the fingers of the hand are held and gently shaken, but the palm is not grasped or even touched. chapter xxxviii chaperons and dÉbutantes an unmarried lady, unless she be a maiden-lady of a recognised age and standing, cannot act as an orthodox chaperon; but, on the other hand, a young married lady could do so with the greatest propriety, as could a brother from the age of eighteen; of other relatives it is not necessary to speak. young ladies are now frequently asked to dinner-parties without a chaperon, a hostess constituting herself chaperon for the occasion. dances are also given to which it is understood chaperons are _not_ invited, the hostess again acting in that capacity, but at large balls and dances chaperonage is considered indispensable for young ladies. at theatres and evening concerts chaperonage is distinctly required; but at morning concerts and _matinées_, companionship rather than chaperonage is needed. as regards morning hours. young ladies may now walk together in the park and elsewhere; ride together, attend classes together or alone, go to luncheon or afternoon tea alone or together at the houses of friends and acquaintances, quite unaccompanied by a chaperon. they may also visit at country houses without a chaperon, the hostess performing this duty. at all out-door gatherings, such as garden-parties, tennis-parties, cricket-matches, golf-meetings, etc., the chaperonage required is of the slightest, and for which any might be made available. chapter xxxix presentations at the viceregal court, dublin castle the drawing-rooms at dublin castle are held by the lord-lieutenant of ireland and his wife, in st. patrick's hall, at . o'clock p.m. =a lady who desires= a presentation at the viceregal court must be presented by a lady who has herself been presented thereat, and it is necessary that she herself should be present on the occasion, save under exceptional circumstances. a lady is not allowed to present more than _two_ ladies, except in special cases to be sanctioned by his excellency. =a lady who proposes being presented= at a viceregal drawing-room must send to the chamberlain's office by five o'clock, three days previous to the drawing-room, a card with her name and address both in town and country, and the name and address of the lady by whom she is to be presented distinctly written thereon, and stating which drawing-room she wishes to attend, to be submitted to the lord-lieutenant and his wife for their excellencies' approval. also two presentation cards must be obtained at the chamberlain's office two days before the drawing-room--if they have not previously been sent by post--and must be filled in with the necessary particulars, and taken to the castle on the evening of the drawing-room, one to be delivered to the official stationed in the corridor, and the other to be handed to the chamberlain, who will announce the name. it is requested that the names may be very distinctly written upon the cards, that there may be no difficulty in announcing them. =a lady attending= a viceregal drawing-room, who has been already presented at the viceregal court, must leave at the chamberlain's office, three days previous to the drawing-room, a card with her name and address, both in town and country, distinctly written thereon, and stating which drawing-room she wishes to attend. she must bring with her two similar cards on the evening of the drawing-room, one to be given to the official in the corridor, and the other to the chamberlain, who will announce the name. a lady on entering the castle on the evening of a drawing-room towards ten o'clock, finds the hall lined with soldiers, and repairs at once to the cloak-room to leave wraps, etc., and to have her train dexterously arranged over one arm by a female attendant. she then proceeds up the grand staircase, lined with servants in gorgeous liveries, and enters the corridor, where one of the presentation cards is given up to the official in attendance, and she passes down the corridor into the long drawing-room, where a barrier of wood, enclosing a space, is erected at the end. one of the gentlemen of the household lifts this barrier at intervals to allow of a certain number passing through to the throne-room, at the door of which her train is let down and arranged by men-servants. if she is to be "presented," the chamberlain tells her to take off her right-hand glove, and, if royalty is present, informs her that she must make three bows, and says, "three bows, please." she gives up her second presentation card to him, and he calls out her name, and it is passed along to his excellency by the gentlemen of the household. the lord-lieutenant and his wife stand on a daïs, he standing in front of the throne, which is a grand chair of state, and on either side--in what are known as the "pens"--are grouped the visitors staying at the castle, those who have the private _entrée_, and the members of the household. the name of the lady who makes the presentation is also called out. the lady presented advances, the lord-lieutenant shakes hands with her, but does not now kiss her on the cheek; she then makes him a bow, and bows to his wife, who bows in return. she then retires back to the door leading into the long drawing-room, where her train is replaced over her arm. she then proceeds to st. patrick's hall, or to the picture gallery. =ladies who attend= the drawing-room only bow to the lord-lieutenant and his wife; he bows to them, but he does not shake hands with them or kiss them. in ireland men invariably accompany their wives to the drawing-room, having previously attended the levée; they pass along the base of the semi-circle, and make their bows at the same time as do the ladies. when all have been received and have assembled in st. patrick's hall, a procession is formed, the lord-lieutenant walking first, followed by his wife, whose train is carried by pages. the visitors staying at the castle follow next, and then the members of the household, the band stationed in the gallery playing "god save the king" the while. all those present form up in two lines to make a passage for the procession to pass through, and bow low to his excellency and his wife as they pass. a supper is not given, only light refreshments of every description. these refreshments are arranged on long tables on one side of st. patrick's hall, and at the lower end, under the gallery, tables are placed for tea, coffee, wine, etc. on the opposite side of the hall red-cushioned seats are placed, and the company promenade in and around the picture gallery and st. patrick's hall during the remainder of the evening. ladies wear full court dress as at buckingham palace, and gentlemen uniform or court dress. =levées.=--every nobleman or gentleman who proposes to attend a levée, and who has not yet been received at the viceregal court, must be introduced by a nobleman or gentleman who has himself been previously presented thereat. =a gentleman who proposes= to be presented must send to the gentleman usher's office by five o'clock, two or three days before the levée, a card with his name and address, both in town and country, and the name and address of the gentleman by whom he is to be presented distinctly written thereon, to be submitted for the lord-lieutenant's approval. he must also obtain two presentation cards from the gentleman usher's office, and must take them to the castle on the day of the levée, the one to be given to the official in the corridor, and the other to be handed to the gentleman usher, who will announce the name to the lord-lieutenant. any gentleman who proposes to attend a levée, having been previously presented, must also take two cards with him to the castle on the day of the levée, with his name and address, both in town and country, clearly written thereon, to be given up as before mentioned. again, a gentleman who, having previously attended the levée, proposes attending the drawing-room, is requested to bring with him _one_ card, with his name distinctly written upon it, to be left in the corridor. all those entitled to the private _entrée_ at dublin castle, and availing themselves of the privilege, are permitted to be accompanied only by their wives and unmarried daughters. gentlemen wear court dress or naval and military uniforms, or the uniforms of lords-lieutenants of counties, or of the royal irish constabulary, etc. the academical habit cannot be worn except when presenting an address from a university. foreign orders and decorations cannot be worn at the court of dublin by british subjects without special authority under his majesty's royal licence. the right-hand glove should be removed before presentation. gentlemen who, having previously attended the levée, are desirous of accompanying the ladies of their families to the drawing-room, are requested to apply to the chamberlain's office for an attendance card, which should be brought to the castle on the evening of the drawing-room and given up in the corridor. presentations in london do not count as presentations at the viceregal court. chapter xl hostesses =the art of receiving guests= is a very subtle one, difficult to acquire; but when acquired and thoroughly mastered it confers upon a mistress of a house an enviable reputation--that of being a perfect hostess. with some this is in-bred, and grace and composure and all the attendant attributes which are to be found in this type of hostess sit naturally upon them; but the individuals so gifted represent the few rather than the many. a far greater section of society has to rely upon experience to teach them this useful accomplishment, while with others time alone can aid them in overcoming natural reserve, and want of confidence in themselves, which stand in the way of their assuming this character with anything like success. those ladies who are innately thoughtless and careless in this respect, neither time nor experience can mould, and what they are at the commencement of their career, they remain to the end of the chapter--very indifferent hostesses. there are varieties of hostesses, according to individual capabilities, and who are known amongst their friends by these appellations: first ranks the perfect or "charming hostess," either title suits her equally well; next to her comes the "good hostess," she is followed by the one who is "not a good hostess"; and the rear is brought up by the one who is decidedly "a bad hostess." amongst the salient points which distinguish the perfect or charming hostess are perhaps, foremost, a certain facility of putting each individual guest at ease, conveying that the welcome she accords is a personal if not an especial one. simultaneously with these agreeable impressions is conveyed a sense of the hostess's genial qualities; her charm of manner, her graciousness and her courteous bearing evincing so plainly that she is entirely mistress of the situation: these qualities insensibly react upon the guests, and evoke a corresponding desire to please on their part. =the perfect hostess= possesses yet another advantage, viz. a readiness of speech, a faculty of saying the right thing at the right moment and to the right person, and of identifying herself, so to speak, with the susceptibilities of each of her guests. =the good hostess= is essentially what is known as a considerate hostess; she makes up for the brighter qualities in which she is lacking by her extreme consideration for her guests. in the charming hostess this consideration is eclipsed by her more brilliant powers of pleasing, it permeates all she does, while in the good hostess it is her strongest point, and upon which is founded her claim to the name. the lady who bears the undesirable reputation of being "not a good hostess" is not "good" in a variety of ways; she means well and does her utmost to succeed, but by some contrariety of the laws which regulate domestic and social affairs, the results of her efforts are always the reverse of what she would have them be. the lady who is not a good hostess sometimes suffers from shyness and reserve which renders her stiff in manner when she would most desire to be cordial, silent when she would be most loquacious, and awkward when she would be at ease. as there are many reasons why ladies prove to be good hostesses, so there are many reasons why they prove bad hostesses, selfishness and want of consideration for others contribute to these, as do procrastination and a vague idea of the value of time. ladies with such faults and weaknesses as these produce very much the same impression upon their guests, although, perhaps, one is a little less culpable than is the other. =the selfish hostess is a bad hostess=, because, providing she is amused, she is utterly indifferent as to whether her guests are amused or not, her own pleasure and gratification being of paramount importance. instead of being in readiness to receive her guests she descends late to the drawing-room to welcome them, and is indifferent as to whether there is any one to greet them or not. =the procrastinating hostess=, although she is equally in fault, yet, as she hastens to excuse herself, when lacking in politeness to, or consideration for her guests, her excuses are sometimes admitted; but the selfish hostess, if she deigns to excuse herself, does so with such a palpable show of indifference as to her guests' opinion of her actions, that the excuse is oftener than not an aggravation of the offence. a lady who has no regard for time goes to her room to dress at the moment when she should be descending to the drawing-room; or she remains out driving when she should be returning; or she puts off making some very important arrangement for the comfort or amusement of her guests until it is too late for anything but a makeshift to be thought of, if it has not to be dispensed with altogether. everything that she does or projects is on the same scale of procrastination; her invitations, her orders and engagements, are one and all effected against time, and neither herself nor her guests gain the value or satisfaction of the hospitality put forth. the bad hostess walks into her drawing-room when many of her guests are assembled, either for a dinner-party or afternoon tea, and shakes hands in an awkward, abashed manner, almost as if she were an unexpected guest instead of the mistress of the house. the host is not at his ease; he is provoked at having to make excuses for his wife, and the guests are equally constrained. if the host is of a sarcastic turn of mind, he never refrains from saying something the reverse of amiable to the hostess on her entrance. "my dear," he will perhaps remark, "you are doubtless not aware that we have friends dining with us this evening." this remark renders the guests even more uncomfortable and the hostess less self-possessed, and this is often the prelude to an inharmonious evening, with a host whose brow is clouded and a hostess whose manner is abashed. =the mode of receiving guests= is determined by the nature of the entertainment. a welcome accorded to some two or three hundred guests cannot be as personal a one as that offered to some ten to thirty guests. whatever disappointment a hostess may feel she should not allow it to appear on the surface, and should not be _distrait_ in manner when shaking hands with her guests. at large or small gatherings disappointments follow in the course of events, and very few hostesses can say that they have not experienced this in a larger or smaller degree at each and all of their entertainments. =at a ball or evening-party= a hostess should receive her guests at the head of the staircase, and should remain there until the majority, if not all, of the guests have arrived. as the names of the guests are announced the hostess should shake hands with each, addressing some courteous observation the while, not with a view of inducing them to linger on the staircase, but rather of inviting them to enter the ball-room to make way for other guests. at a ball given at a country house the hostess should stand at the door of the ball-room and receive her guests. when the guests have duly arrived, a hostess at a country-house ball or country-house theatricals should exert herself to see that all her guests are amused. if she sees that the young ladies are not dancing she should endeavour to find them partners. in town she is not required to do this. if the chaperons have apparently no one to talk to she should introduce one of her own relatives, if she cannot give much of her own attention to them, and she should arrange that all her guests are taken in to supper. =at large afternoon "at homes"= the hostess receives her guests at the open door of the drawing-room, and has little more time to bestow upon each than at a ball or an "at home." at small afternoon "at homes" she should receive them in the drawing-room, and should rise and shake hands with each arrival. a hostess should receive her dinner guests in the drawing-room, and should shake hands with each in the order of arrival. she occasionally finds it a trying ordeal to sustain conversation between the arrival of dinner guests and the dinner being served; sometimes this is prolonged for three-quarters of an hour through the non-appearance of a guest who must be waited for. a hostess should, although she knows that her dinner is spoilt by being thus kept back, endeavour to make the time pass as pleasantly as possible, by rendering the conversation general and by making the guests acquainted with each other. the hostess who can tide over these awkward occurrences so that the postponement of dinner from half to three-quarters of an hour is hardly perceived, proves herself to be entitled to be considered a good hostess. chapter xli the responsibilities of lady patronesses of public balls =ladies are frequently solicited= to allow their names to be placed on the lists of lady patronesses of charity balls. a ball committee is desirous of obtaining a list of influential names to lend _éclat_ and prestige to the ball, and a charity ball often numbers amongst its lady patronesses the names of many of the leading members of the nobility, followed by those of the wives of the leading county gentry, or by the principal residents of a watering-place or county town; but it is understood, as a rule, that the duty of giving vouchers or tickets for a charity ball is undertaken by those ladies who are more directly interested in it, whose husbands are on the committee, who make a point of annually attending it, and thus are principally concerned in keeping it select; and although in many counties and in many towns lady patronesses, members of the nobility, do attend, yet it not unfrequently happens that out of a long list of great ladies only three or four are present at a ball. the members of the leading nobility and gentry of a neighbourhood invariably lend their names to local charity balls, and head the list of patrons and patronesses, but beyond lending their names, and in some cases sending a subscription of money towards the funds of the charity, or a present of game towards the supper, they have very little to do with the ball itself, which is practically in the hands of the local stewards. the exceptions to this rule are the charity balls held in town during the season, such as the royal caledonian ball, the yorkshire, the wiltshire, and the somersetshire societies' balls. on these occasions many of the great ladies give vouchers and attend the balls. when ladies consent to become lady patronesses of a ball, they usually notify to the committee whether they will or will not undertake the duty of giving vouchers or tickets, as the case may be. some ball committees arrange that vouchers are to be given by lady patronesses, to be subsequently exchanged for tickets, signed and filled in with the name of the person to whom the ticket is given. the lady patronesses in this case receive the money charged for the tickets, and forward it to the committee after the ball, with any tickets that they may not have disposed of. the ladies who exert themselves to sell tickets are generally those who possess a large acquaintance, whose husbands are members of clubs; therefore, if any person ought to be tabooed for some good social reason, the lady patronesses reap the benefit of their husbands' knowledge, and are thus able to give a polite refusal when tickets are applied for for persons who are not altogether desirable. it is no doubt a difficult and delicate task for the lady patronesses of a large ball to keep it thoroughly select, and if not very particular respecting those for whom tickets are granted, a ball, though a full one, is likely to prove a very mixed affair, if not somewhat objectionable, by reason of the presence of persons to whom tickets should never have been granted, on moral if not on social grounds; and though the funds of a charity may gain considerably by the increase of numbers, through a general willingness on the part of the committee or the lady patronesses to grant tickets to every one who may apply for them, yet such policy is very short-sighted, and is seldom practised by those who possess any practical knowledge in the matter, as it is fatal to the reputation of a ball if persons who are objectionable are present at it. in the case of a ticket being applied for for a person of doubtful antecedents, a lady patroness's best course is to refer the applicant to the ball committee for tickets or vouchers. =persons not well received in society=, or who have ostracised themselves, have a predilection for public balls, and make every effort to obtain tickets of admission; and in some cases, when a refusal has been pronounced by the committee of a ball, the committee has been threatened with legal proceedings. unmarried ladies seldom or ever act as lady patronesses, it not being considered advisable to place the discretion of granting tickets in their hands, lest their ignorance of the world should be taken advantage of. =the lady patronesses of a charity ball= who undertake to give vouchers or to sell tickets, usually exert themselves to the utmost in inducing as many of their friends as possible to attend the ball. it depends upon the committee of a charity ball whether tickets are presented or not to the lady patronesses and stewards; but if the funds of the charity are not at a very low ebb, this is generally done in recognition of their services. the responsibilities of lady patronesses of private subscription balls are light in comparison with those of public charity balls, as persons who attend subscription balls are usually on the visiting lists of one or other of the lady patronesses, while with regard to county balls, lady patronesses are not usually concerned in the disposal of the tickets. chapter xlii periods of mourning =the various periods of mourning= for relatives have within the last few years been materially shortened, and the change generally accepted; but as some still prefer to adhere to the longest periods prescribed by custom, in the present chapter both periods are given, and it entirely depends upon individual feeling and circumstances which of the two periods is observed. the time-honoured custom of wearing crape has greatly declined, and with the exception of widows, many do not wear it at all, while others wear it as a trimming only. a slighter change has also taken place in favour of half-mourning colours, which are now more worn than black and white during the half-mourning period. =court mourning= when enjoined is imperative, the orders respecting which are minutely given from the lord chamberlain's office and published in the official _gazette_; but these orders only apply to persons connected with the court, or to persons attending courts, levées, state balls, state concerts, etc. when the order for general mourning is given on the death of any member of the royal family, the order applies to all, although it is optional whether the general public comply with it or not. =the longest period for a widow's mourning= is two years. the shorter period is eighteen months. formerly crape was worn for one year and nine months; for the first twelve months the dress was entirely covered with crape. the newer fashion in widows' mourning is to wear crape as a trimming only, and to discontinue its wear after six or eight months, while some few widows do not wear it at all during their mourning, it being optional wear. =half-mourning= in the longer period commences after a year and nine months, and is worn for three months. in the shorter period half-mourning may commence after fifteen months, and be continued for three months. the period for wearing the widow's cap and veil is a year and a day. the veil may be _crêpe lisse_ or _chiffon_ in place of crape. it is now the fashion for young widows to wear the cap as a head-dress only, while others do not wear it at all. lawn cuffs and collars are worn during the first year, or for six months only, or not at all. after the first year white neckbands and white strings to the bonnet may be worn. also hats in place of bonnets. further touches of white may follow during the next three months. after a year gold ornaments may be worn; diamonds earlier. =widowers= should wear mourning for one year; they usually enter society after three months. =for a parent= the period of mourning is twelve months; ten months black, two months half-mourning, or eight months black and four months half-mourning. the black may be relieved with touches of white after three months. crape is optional; many prefer not to wear it at all, others as a trimming. diamonds--earrings, brooches; etc.--before gold, at the end of three months. =for a son or daughter= the period of mourning is identical with the foregoing. =for very young children or infants= the mourning is frequently shortened by half this period, or even to three months. =for a stepmother.=--the period of mourning depends upon whether the stepdaughters reside at home or not, or whether their father has been long married, or whether their father's second wife has filled the place of mother to them, in which case the period of mourning would be for twelve months, otherwise the period is six months--four months black relieved with touches of white after two months, followed by two months half-mourning. =for a brother or sister= the longest period of mourning is six months, the shortest period four months. during the longest period, viz. six months, black should be worn for five months, with a little white after two months, half-mourning for one month. after one month diamonds, pins, and brooches, etc.; gold after two months. during the shortest period, viz. four months, black should be worn for two months, half-mourning two months. =for a sister-in-law or a brother-in-law= the period of mourning was formerly the same as for a brother or sister, but the four months' period is now the one usually chosen. =for a grandparent= the longest period of mourning is six months, the shortest four months. during the longest period black should be worn for three months, relieved with white after six weeks, half-mourning for three months; diamonds after one month, gold after six weeks or two months. during the shortest period black should be worn for two months, half-mourning for two months. the custom of wearing crape may now be said to have gone out of fashion as regards etiquette, black being considered adequate mourning, save in the case of widows. the former crape periods were six months for parents and children, three months for brothers and sisters, three months for grandparents. =for an uncle or aunt= the longest period of mourning is three months, the shortest period six weeks. during the longest period black (no crape) should be worn for two months, half-mourning one month. during the shortest period black for three weeks, half-mourning for three weeks; diamonds after three weeks. =for a nephew or niece= the periods of mourning are identical with the foregoing. =for an uncle or aunt by marriage= the period is six weeks black, or three weeks black and three weeks half-mourning. =for a great uncle or aunt= the longest period is two months, the shortest one month. during the longest period black for one month, half-mourning for one month. during the shortest period black for one month. =for a first cousin= the longest period is six weeks, the shortest one month. during the longest period black for three weeks, half-mourning for three weeks. during the shortest period black for one month. =for a second cousin= three weeks black. mourning for a second cousin is not obligatory, but quite optional, and often not worn. =for a husband's relations= the periods of mourning chosen are invariably the shorter ones. =for a daughter-in-law or son-in-law= the periods are now shortened to six months; four months black and two months half-mourning, or three months black and three months half-mourning. =for the parents of a son-in-law or daughter-in-law= the period is one month, black. =for the parents of a first wife= a second wife should wear mourning for one month, black relieved with white. =for a brother or sister of a first wife= a second wife should wear mourning for three weeks, but this is not obligatory, and depends upon the intimacy existing between the two families. =much latitude is allowed to men= with regard to the foregoing periods of mourning. =a hat-band should be worn= during the whole of each period, but it is not imperative to wear suits of black longer than half the periods given, save in the case of widowers. =servants' mourning.=--it is customary to give servants mourning on the death of the head of the house, which should be worn during the period the members of the family are in mourning. mourning given to servants on the death of a son or daughter is quite an optional matter. =seclusion from society.=--the question as to how soon persons in mourning should or should not re-enter society is in some measure an open one, and is also influenced by the rules that govern the actual period of mourning adopted. =a widow is not expected to enter into society= under three months, and during that time she should neither accept invitations nor issue them. her visiting should be confined to her relations and intimate friends. after three months she should commence gradually to enter into society, but balls and dances should be avoided during the first year. =for a daughter mourning for a parent= the period of seclusion is six weeks as far as general society is concerned; but invitations to balls and dances should not be accepted until after six months. =for a parent mourning for a son or daughter= the period of seclusion is the same as is that of a daughter for a parent. =for a brother or sister= the period of seclusion is three weeks. =for grandparents= the period of seclusion is from a fortnight to three weeks. =for an uncle or aunt= the period is a fortnight to three weeks. =for all other periods of mourning= seclusion from society is not considered requisite. =when persons in mourning= intend entering again into society, they should leave cards on their friends and acquaintances as an intimation that they are equal to paying and receiving calls. =when cards of inquiry have been left=, viz. visiting cards with "to inquire after mrs. a----" written on the top on right-hand corner of the cards, they should be returned by cards with "thanks for kind inquiries" written upon them (see chapter iii.). until this intimation has been given, society does not venture to intrude upon the seclusion of those in mourning. relations and intimate friends are exempt from this received rule. =funerals.=--when a death occurs in a family, as soon as the day and hour for the funeral are fixed, a member of the family should write to those relatives and friends it is desired should follow, and should ask them to attend, unless the date, time, and place of the funeral, and the train by which to travel to the cemetery, are mentioned in the newspaper, together with the announcement of the death. =it is a mistake to suppose that friends= will offer to attend a funeral, even if they are aware of the date fixed, as they are naturally in doubt as to whether the mourners are to include the members of the family only, or whether friends are to be included also. =in the country, when a doctor= has attended a family for some years, it is usual to invite him to attend the funeral of one of its members. in town this is seldom done, unless a medical man is the intimate friend of the family. in the country the clergyman of the parish reads the funeral service, but in town, when the funeral takes place at kensal green, brookwood cemetery, or elsewhere, a friend of the family is usually asked to officiate; in which case it is necessary to make an early application at the office of the cemetery for the use of the chapel at a particular hour. =it is customary for ladies to attend= the funeral of a relative if disposed to do so, in which case they wear their usual mourning attire, and follow in their own carriages. =the doctor's certificate= as to the cause of death is of primary importance, and should be obtained at the earliest possible moment. =memorial cards should not be sent= on the death of a relative, being quite out of date as regards fashion and custom. =wreaths and crosses= of white flowers are very generally sent by relatives and friends to a house of mourning the day of the funeral, unless "no flowers, by request" follows the announcement of the death. when the funeral takes place before two o'clock, the friends should be invited to luncheon. when it takes place in the afternoon, they should be asked to return to the house for tea or light refreshment. chapter xliii engaged it greatly depends upon the views held by parents as to the freedom of action accorded to a daughter during her engagement. some entertain the strictest ideas on this head, and strenuously put them in force. by "strict ideas" is meant that an engaged couple, except in the presence of a chaperon, are never, under any circumstances, permitted to enjoy a _tête-à-tête_, sit together, walk together, ride together, or meet during any part of the day. wisdom and common-sense dictate a middle course of action for the consideration of parents, neither granting too much nor withholding too much. =the length of an engagement= determines in most instances the degree of latitude allowed. if it is to last two months, or even less, it is usual to permit the engaged couple to be much in each other's society. the circumstances under which this is accomplished depend upon the position of the parents; if wealthy, and a country house is part of their possessions, the young lady's father should invite the gentleman engaged to his daughter on a visit, or one or two visits, during the engagement. or the mother of the bridegroom-elect should invite her future daughter-in-law to stay with her for ten days or a fortnight. etiquette prescribes that a young lady must be chaperoned by one of her near relatives at all public places of amusement. if an engaged couple move in the same set, they meet frequently at the houses of mutual friends; they are sent in to dinner together when dining out. to dance with each other at a ball, or dance more than three or four times in succession, and when not dancing to sit out in tea-rooms and conservatories, renders an engaged couple conspicuous, and this is precisely what many mothers are most anxious that their daughters should avoid being, and would rather that they were over-prudent than that they should run the gauntlet of general criticism. =the usual course for engaged couples= to take is to go as little into society as possible during their engagement, and to make the engagement as brief as circumstances will permit. if from various causes it must of necessity be a long one, the only alternative for an engaged couple is to render themselves as little conspicuous in general society as a mutual understanding will permit. =when an engagement is first announced=, if the families are not previously acquainted, the father, mother, and relatives of the bridegroom-elect should call on the father and mother of the bride-elect at an early date, to make the acquaintance of the bride and her family, and they should write to the bride-elect expressing their approval of the engagement. the calls should be returned and the letters answered with the least possible delay. the engagement should be announced to relatives and intimate friends by the mother of the engaged young lady, and if the announcement is to appear in the papers it should be sent by her. the bride should ask the sisters and cousins of the bridegroom to act as bridesmaids in conjunction with her own sisters and cousins. when an engagement is broken off, all letters and presents should be returned on both sides. all wedding presents received by the bride-elect should be likewise returned to the donors. the mother of the bride should announce to all whom it may concern, the fact that the engagement is at an end. chapter xliv silver weddings the german custom of celebrating silver weddings has become thoroughly recognised in this country. it is an interesting custom to celebrate the first twenty-five years of married life under the poetic title of a silver wedding, but those who can do so must be for many reasons the few, rather than the many; royal personages, and distinguished and prominent ones for instance, and again, those in humbler walks of life "far from the madding crowd," are also inclined to do so; but the "crowd" that divides them, formed of different classes and different sets in society, will hardly avail itself of the opportunity of celebrating this period of married life. husbands as a rule dislike the fuss and parade and prominency it entails, and wives are disinclined to announce to their friends and acquaintances that they have been married five and twenty years, and are consequently not so young as they were. =the entertainments given to celebrate a silver wedding= are: an afternoon reception and a dinner-party. a dinner-party followed by an evening-party. a dinner-party followed by a dance. or a dinner-party only, of some twenty or thirty covers. the invitations are issued on "at home" cards some three weeks beforehand, the cards being printed in silver, and the words "mr. and mrs. white at home, to celebrate their silver wedding" printed on them, with day and date, etc. the dinner cards should also be printed in silver, with the words "mr. and mrs. white request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. black's company at dinner to celebrate their silver wedding," etc. for a dance the invitations should be worded "mr. and mrs. white at home, to celebrate their silver wedding." "dancing" printed in the corner of the card. =each person invited= is expected to send a present in silver, costly or trifling as the case may be, whether the invitation is accepted or not. these presents should be exhibited in the drawing-room on the day of the silver wedding with a card attached to each bearing the name of the giver. at the afternoon reception the husband and wife receive the congratulations of their friends as they arrive. they enter the tea-room together almost immediately afterwards followed by those guests who have arrived. refreshments are served as at an afternoon wedding tea. (see page .) a large wedding-cake is placed in the centre of the table, and the wife makes the first cut in it as a bride would do. the health of the husband and wife is then proposed by one of the guests, drunk in champagne, and responded to by the husband. at the dinner-party the husband and wife go in to dinner together, followed by their guests, who are sent in according to precedency. the health of the husband and wife is proposed at dessert and responded to. a wedding-cake occupies a prominent place on the table, and the dinner-table decorations consist of white flowers interspersed with silver. =at the silver wedding dance=, the husband and wife dance the first dance together, and subsequently lead the way into the supper-room arm-in-arm, and later on their health is proposed by the principal guest present. the wife should wear white and silver, or grey and silver. in the country, when a silver wedding is celebrated, the festivities sometimes range over three days, but this only in the case of prominent and wealthy people; balls, dinners, and school-treats being given, in which the neighbours, tenants, villagers and servants take part. =golden weddings.=--the celebration of a golden wedding is rather an english custom, and one that from circumstances can be but seldom observed. it denotes that fifty years of married life have passed over the heads of husband and wife, and is a solemn rather than a festive epoch. presents on this occasion are not so generally given, and children and grandchildren rather than acquaintances make up the circle of those who offer congratulations. chapter xlv subscription dances =subscription= dances are now an established fact, but whether they will ever really become a rival to the dance proper remains to be seen; yet as they supply a want felt, and are recognised by society, the arrangements necessary for carrying them out should be duly noted. during the winter months they are a feature in certain sets: subscription dances, private subscription dances and public subscription dances, the latter got up for charitable purposes. the moderate expenses incurred by giving private subscription dances commend them to many, and there are other reasons to account for their popularity. they are without pretension to being considered smart or exclusive, and are essentially small and early dances. fashionable ball-goers are not expected to attend them. they commence at o'clock and terminate at , light refreshments in lieu of supper are provided, as at an afternoon "at home." (see p. .) a piano band is considered sufficient for the purpose, and floral decorations are scarcely ever attempted. the invitations are issued on "at home" cards, with the words "subscription dance" printed in one corner. =subscription= dances are sometimes invitation dances and sometimes not. tickets for these dances are charged for singly or by the series as the case may be. a certain number of ladies form a committee and agree to give a certain number of dances, and the expenses are either borne by the ladies themselves or covered by the sale of the tickets. if invitation dances, a certain number of invitations are allotted to each lady. when otherwise, the ladies dispose of the tickets among their friends. these dances are usually held in a mansion hired for the purpose, and there are several available in different parts of the west end, where spacious rooms can be hired on very moderate terms; in some instances a piano, seats, and other accessories are also included. =public subscription= dances are held in public rooms or town halls, and vouchers are given by ladies on the committee previous to tickets being granted. the same etiquette holds good at subscription dances as at other public dances. the early hour at which these dances take place recommends them to some and altogether renders them impossible to others, notably to those who dine late, and who are not inclined to dance at nine o'clock or even at ten o'clock, and who rather resent the frugal style of refreshments offered, and consider that a champagne supper is an indispensable adjunct to a dance. it should be remembered that subscription dances were first originated for the amusement of very young people, and it was never expected that they would compete with the fashionable small dances of the day; their popularity was a surprise, and if ball-goers are disposed to hold them in contempt there are others less fashionable and less wealthy who find them very much to their taste. the great difficulty, however, that ladies have to contend with is the fact that very few men can be induced to attend them, and that those who do accept invitations or purchase tickets are very young men, who have their way to make in the world, and are as yet on the lower rungs of the ladder, and as young ladies are very much in the majority at these subscription dances, to dance with partners younger than themselves is an almost inevitable result for those who are no longer in their teens. chapter xlvi giving presents as regards presents in general it should be understood that a present demands a note of thanks in all cases when the thanks cannot be verbally expressed. the notes to slight acquaintances should be written in the third person. to friends, in the first person. this applies equally to presents of game, poultry, fruit, or flowers. some few people entertain the erroneous idea that presents of this nature do not require thanks. this is not only ungracious but raises a doubt in the mind of the giver as to whether the present sent has been duly received. =wedding presents.=--when an engagement has been duly announced to relatives and friends, and it is understood that it is to be a short one, wedding presents may be sent until the day before the wedding-day, and the earlier they are sent the more convenient it is for the bride, as she is expected to write a note of thanks to each giver. in each case a letter should be sent with the present expressing the congratulations and best wishes of the donor, and, if possible, a card with the name of the giver should be attached to it for identification when the presents are exhibited. the friends of the bridegroom, and unacquainted with the bride, should send their presents to him, and he should send them to the house of the bride's mother after having written notes of thanks to the givers. =christening presents.=--with regard to christening presents the godfathers and godmothers are expected to make presents to their godchild; these should be sent the day before the christening, and should consist of a silver mug and silver fork and spoon from the godfathers, while a lace robe or handsome cloak are usual presents from the godmothers. a present of money from _s._ to £ should be made to the nurse on the day of the christening when the godparents are relatives, but oftener than not the sponsors are represented by proxy. =giving tips to servants.=--the tips expected from ladies at the conclusion of a visit of some days, are: to the head housemaid from _s._ _d._ to _s._ according to the length of the visit. the same to the butler or single-handed man-servant, and the same to the chauffeur. young ladies give less when visiting by themselves. the tips expected from gentlemen are: to the butler or footman who valets them, to the chauffeur if he drives them to and from the station, to the groom if he takes charge of their hunters, also to the head housemaid. the tip to the butler or footman who acts as valet is for a long visit from _s._ to _s._, and for a short visit from _s._ to _s._ to the chauffeur _s._ in the first case, and from _s._ _d._ to _s._ in the second. to the housemaid, _s._ _d._ to _s._ for tips to gamekeeper, see p. . the tips given to hotel servants vary according to the length of the visit. to the head waiter from _s._ to _s._ to the second waiter from _s._ _d._ to _s._ to the hall porter, _s._ to _s._ to the luggage porter, _s._ to _s._ to the head housemaid in attendance, _s._ _d._ to _s._ chapter xlvii christening parties =christening parties= may be said to be strictly family gatherings, only the near relatives of the parents being invited on these occasions. =the invitations= are given in friendly notes, and are not issued on "at home" cards. the notice averages from a week to ten days according to circumstances, meaning the health and strength of the infant's mother. =as a rule six weeks= are allowed to elapse between the birth of the child and the date of the christening. =the relatives are either invited= to luncheon after the ceremony, or to a reception tea, or to a dinner-party to be given the same evening. if a luncheon is decided upon it generally takes place at . , or earlier, immediately on the return from the church. the meal usually consists of hot viands--game or poultry--not substantial joints. hot and cold sweets. fruit to follow. a smart christening cake should occupy the centre of the table. champagne, claret, and sherry are given, although the former is probably the only one of the three drunk on the occasion; this, when the health of the infant is proposed--the only health which finds acceptance at these gatherings. =the guests go in to luncheon= quite informally, the ladies and hostess entering first, followed by the men guests and the host. they should be seated at table by the help of name cards, each lady being placed at the right hand of a gentleman. the clergyman who performs the ceremony, if a friend, should sit at the hostess's left hand, and should be asked to say grace; but in town he seldom joins these family gatherings unless well acquainted with his parishioners. =a reception tea=, when given, is served in the dining-room; but in this case the guests are received on arrival by the hostess in the drawing-room, and when all have arrived, she accompanies them to the tea-room and remains there with them. the maid-servants should pour out and hand the tea and coffee across the tea-table, but the hostess should hand the cakes, etc., to her relatives, assisted by the host, if present. the refreshments consist of the usual variety in confectionery seen at all smart "at homes," a christening cake being the addition. =christening dinner-parties= closely resemble all other family functions of this nature, with the exception that the infant's health is drunk at dessert, and that a christening cake is placed opposite the hostess when the table is cleared for dessert. =the christening ceremony= takes place in the afternoon, usually at . . the relatives on arrival at the church seat themselves in pews or on chairs near to the font. the godmother holds the infant during the first part of the service, and then places it on the left arm of the officiating clergyman. one of the godfathers should name the child in response to the clergyman's question. if the child is a girl, two godmothers and one godfather are necessary. if a boy, two godfathers and one godmother are required. these godparents are usually the intimate friends of the child's mother. in certain instances the relatives are chosen for the office of godfather and godmother, but oftener not for family reasons. =christening presents= vary according to means and inclination, and often comprise gifts of jewellery when the infant is a girl, and money and silver plate if a boy; silver spoons, forks, mugs, bowls, etc. the selection is a wide one, and nothing comes amiss, from a robe with fine lace to a chain and pendant or a jewelled watch. these presents are usually sent the day previous to that of the christening. =fees and tips.=--only minor fees are given to those assisting at the ceremony. the officiating priest receives some little gift in old silver or china, but not of money; if, however, the parents of the child are wealthy a cheque is sometimes given with a request that he will devote it to the needs of his parish. tips to the nurse from the child's godparents vary from five shillings to a sovereign according to individual means. index afternoon "at homes," afternoon dances, afternoon tea, afternoon weddings, amusements at children's parties, ; at country-house parties, ; at garden-parties, "at home" days, ; "at homes," , bachelors' balls, balls, ; patronesses of, best man, duties of, bowing, breakfasts, bridal wreath, bride, , , bridegroom's relatives, bridegroom's responsibilities, , , , bridesmaids, ; presents to, bride's relatives, bridge parties, , ; refreshments at, ; teas, calls, paying, ; after entertainments, canoe parties, cards, gentlemen's, ; ladies, ; memorial, ; "p.p.c.," cards, leaving, ; after entertainments, , ; on new-comers, ; returning, ; routine of leaving, , ; "to inquire," chaperons, charity balls, christening luncheons and teas, ; parties, ; presents, , clergy, how to address, cockades, colonial etiquette, county balls, country dinner-parties, country-house visits, court, attending, ; presentation at, court dress for gentlemen, ; for ladies, cricket-matches, dances, invitation, ; public, débutantes, _dîner à la russe_, dining out, dinner guests, dinner invitations, dinner-table decorations, ; etiquette, , drawing-room, retiring to, drawing-rooms at viceregal court, dublin, driving, engagements, ; etiquette of, ; presents, _entrée_ at court, etiquette, ; at balls, ; at dinner-table, , ; colonial, ; indian, ; in regard to royalty, ; of visiting at bachelors' houses, ; when travelling abroad, evening parties, ; garden-parties, foreigners of rank, how to address, funerals, funeral wreaths, gamekeepers, tips to, game licence, garden-parties, ; in the evening, ; in town, giving presents, going in to luncheon, ; to supper, , golden weddings, gratuities to servants, , , , , , honeymoon, hostesses, hunt balls, , hunt breakfasts, hunting, indian etiquette, introductions, ; correct formula for, ; at afternoon calls, ; at country-house parties, ; at dinner-parties, ; at evening parties, ; at public balls, , invitations, , , , , , , juvenile parties, ladies in the hunting-field, levée dress, levées, ; at viceregal court, dublin, ; presentations at, ; who may attend, licences, marriage, luncheons, marriage by banns, ; by licence, , ; fees, , memorial cards, menus, , military balls, , mourning, ; court, "not at home," officers, how to address, opening a ball, patronesses of public balls, pheasant shooting, picnics, plumes in court dress, politeness, graces of, precedency amongst royalty, , ; at ball suppers, ; at dinner-parties, , ; of ambassadors and diplomats, ; of army and navy, ; of baronets and knights, , ; of bishops, ; of clergy, , ; of esquires, ; of ladies, ; of legal profession, , ; of peers, ; of widows, presentation at court, ; at foreign courts, ; at levées, ; at viceregal court, dublin, presents, christening, ; giving, ; wedding, , , public balls, receiving guests, , , , refreshments for "at homes," ; at bridge parties, ; at children's parties, refusing invitations, responsibilities of patronesses, riding, royal guests present, , royalty, how to address, saying grace, sending in to dinner, shaking hands, shooting, signing the register, silver weddings, state balls, state mourning, subscription dances, supper, going in to, surnames of peculiar pronunciation, tea for afternoon callers, titles, how to use in speaking, town garden-parties, trousseau, undesired introductions, walking, water parties, wedding cake, , ; cards, ; etiquette, ; expenses, ; favours, ; fees, , ; golden, ; invitations, ; luncheon, ; of widow, ; presents, , , ; receptions, , ; ring, ; service, ; silver, widow's wedding, writing invitations, the end printed by william clowes and sons, limited, london and beccles. the gentleman and lady's book of politeness and propriety of deportment, dedicated to the youth of both sexes. by mme. celnart. translated from the sixth paris edition, enlarged and improved. boston. allen and ticknor, and carter, hendee & co . entered according to act of congress, the year , by allen and ticknor, in the clerk's office of the district court of the district of massachusetts. boston: kane and co. washington street. preface. the present work has had an extensive circulation in france, the country which we are accustomed to consider as the genial soil of politeness; and the publishers have thought it would be rendering a useful service on this side of the atlantic to issue a translation of it. some foreign visitors in our country, whose own manners have not always given them a right to be censors of others, have very freely told us what we ought _not_ to do; and it will be useful to know from respectable authority, what is done in polished society in europe, and, of course, what we _ought to do_, in order to avoid all just censure. this object, we are confident, will be more effectually accomplished by the study of the principles and rules contained in the present volume, than by any other of the kind. by persons who are deemed competent judges in such a case, this little work has been pronounced to be one of the most useful and practical works extant upon the numerous and delicate topics which are discussed in it. we are aware, that a man can no more acquire the ease and elegance of a finished gentleman, by any manual of this kind, than in the fine arts he could become a skilful painter or sculptor by studying books alone, without practice. it is, however, equally true, that the _principles_ of politeness may be studied, as well as the principles of the arts. at the same time, intercourse with polite society, in other words, _practice_, as in the case of the arts, must do the rest. the reader will find in this volume some rules founded on customs and usages peculiar to france and other countries, where the roman catholic religion is established. but it was thought better to retain them in the work, than to mutilate it, by making such material alterations as would have been occasioned by expunging every thing of that description. in our liberal and tolerant country, these peculiarities will give offence to none; while to many, their novelty, at least, will be interesting. the translator. _boston, may , ._ contents. part i. page. introduction. of propriety of deportment, and its advantages xiii chapter i. of propriety of conduct in relation to religious duties sect. . of respectful deportment at church ibid. . of religious propriety in our intercourse with the world chapter ii. of propriety of conduct in relation to domestic duties chapter iii. of propriety of conduct in conjugal and domestic relations chapter iv. of propriety as regards one's self sect. . of the toilet ibid. . of reputation chapter v. of propriety in regard to one's business or profession sect. . politeness of shopkeepers and customers ibid. . politeness between persons in office and the public . politeness of lawyers and their clients . politeness of physicians and their patients . politeness of artists and authors, and the deference due to them . politeness of military men . politeness of ecclesiastics and females of religious orders; and the deference due to them part ii. of propriety of deportment in regard to our social relations. chapter i. of deportment in the street chapter ii. of different kinds of visits chapter iii. of the manner of receiving visitors chapter iv. of the carriage of the body chapter v. of physical proprieties in conversation sect. . physical observances in conversation ibid. . of gestures . of the talent of listening to others . of pronunciation . of correctness in speaking chapter vi. of the moral observances in conversation sect. . of formal and vulgar usages ibid. . of questions and frequently recurring expressions . of narrations, analysis, and digressions . of suppositions and comparisons . of discussions and quotations . of pleasantry, proverbs, puns, and bon mots . of eulogiums, complainings, improprieties in general, and prejudices chapter vii. of epistolary composition sect. . of propriety in letter writing ibid. . of the interior and exterior form of letters chapter viii. additional rules in respect to the social relations sect. . of an obliging deportment ibid. . of presents . of advice . of discretion chapter ix. of travelling part iii. of propriety in relation to pleasures. chapter i. of entertainments. chapter ii. of promenades, parties, and amusements sect. . of promenades ibid. . of parties and amusements . little sports and games of society chapter iii. of balls, concerts, and public shows sect. . of balls ibid. . of concerts . of public shows and spectacles chapter iv. of the duties of hospitality part iv. of propriety as regards other circumstances. chapter i. of marriage and baptism sect. . of marriage ibid. . of baptism chapter ii. of duties toward the unfortunate sect. . of duties toward the sick, infirm, and unfortunate ibid. . of funerals and mourning part i. introduction. _of propriety of deportment, and its advantages._ propriety of deportment, or _bienséance_, is a happy union of the moral and the graceful; it should be considered in two points of view, and ought therefore to direct us in our important duties, as well as our more trifling enjoyments. when we regard it only under this last aspect, some contend that mere intercourse with the world gives a habit and taste for those modest and obliging observances which constitute true politeness; but this is an error. propriety of deportment, is the valuable result of a knowledge of one's-self, and of respect for the rights of others; it is a feeling of the sacrifices which are imposed on self-esteem by our social relations; it is, in short, a sacred requirement of harmony and affection. but the usage of the world is merely the gloss, or rather the imitation of propriety: since instead of being like that, based upon sincerity, modesty and courtesy, it consists, in not being constant in anything, and in amusing itself by playing off its feelings and ridicule, against the defects and excellences of others, provided that this is done with grace, and is never carried so far as to wound the self-esteem of any one. thanks to custom, it is sufficient in order to be recognised as amiable, that he who is the subject of a malicious pleasantry may laugh as well as the author of it. the usage of the world is therefore often nothing more than a skilful calculation of vanity, a futile game, a superficial observance of form, a false politeness which would lead to frivolity or perfidy, did not true politeness animate it with delicacy, reserve and benevolence. would that custom had never been separated from this virtuous amiableness! we should then never see well-intentioned and good people suspicious of politeness; and when victims to the deceitful, justly exclaim with bitterness, _this is your man of politeness_; nor should we ever have made a distinction between the fixed principles of virtue, and what is fit and expedient. the love of good, in a word, virtue, is then the soul of politeness; the feeling of a just harmony between our interest and our social relations, is also indispensable to this agreeable quality. excessive gaiety, extravagant joy, great depression, anger, love, jealousy, avarice, and generally all the passions, are too often dangerous shoals to propriety of deportment. moderation in everything is so essential, that it is even a violation of propriety itself to affect too much the observance of it. it is to propriety, its justice and attractions, that we owe all the charm, i might almost say, the being able to live in society. at once the effect and cause of civilization, it avails itself of the grand spring of the human mind, self-love, in order to purify and ennoble it; to substitute for pride and all those egotistical or offensive feelings which it generates, benevolence, with all the amiable and generous sentiments, which it inspires. in an assembly of truly polite people, all evil seems to be unknown; what is just, estimable, and good, or what we call fit or suitable, is felt on all sides; and actions, manners and language alike indicate it. now if we place in this select assembly, a person who is a stranger to the advantages of a polite education, he will at once be made sensible of the value of it, and will immediately desire to display the same urbanity by which he has himself been pleased. if politeness is necessary in general, it is not less so in particular cases. neither rank, talents, fortune, nor beauty, can dispense with this amenity of manners; nor can any thing inspire regard or love, without that graceful affability, that mild dignity, that elegant simplicity, which make the name of _frenchman_ synonymous with _amiable_, and make paris dear, to whatever has understanding and taste. if all the world feels the truth of the verse which is now a proverb, cette grâce plus belle encors que la beauté,[ ] every one also is sensible, that grace in conferring a favor, affects us more than the favor itself, and that a kind smile, and an affectionate tone, penetrate the heart more deeply than the most brilliant elocution. as to the technical part of politeness, or forms alone, the intercourse of society, and good advice, are undoubtedly useful; but the grand secret of never failing in propriety of deportment, is to have an intention of always doing what is right. with such a disposition of mind, exactness in observing what is proper, appears to all to possess a charm and influence; and then not only do mistakes become excusable, but they become even interesting from their thoughtlessness and naïveté. after the manner of st. augustine, who used to say, _love god, and then do what you wish_, we would say to those, just making their début in society, be modest, benevolent, and do not distress yourself on account of the mistakes of your inexperience; a little attention, and the advice of a friend, will soon correct these trifling errors. such a friend, i wish to be to you. in undertaking to revise, and almost entirely remodel, the _manual of good society_, i have wished and have engaged to be useful to you. a more methodical arrangement of the work, more precise and varied details, in short, important applications to all conditions and circumstances of life, i venture to believe, will make this treatise worthy of its design. [ ] that grace, which is more beautiful than beauty itself.--_t._ chapter i. _of propriety of conduct in relation to religious duties._ we have said, that propriety ought to preside over the sublimest instructions of morality, as it also regulates the gayest movements of pleasure. we proceed first, therefore, to consider religious deportment. section i. _of respectful deportment at church._ religious sentiment is the great, perhaps the only difference which we find between man and other animals. however it may absorb you by its depth, exalt you with delight, or withdraw from you in misfortune, this mysterious and sublime sentiment ought always to command your respect. therefore, without objecting to particular differences of worship, never enter a church without submitting to the requirements of religion.[ ] observe silence, or at least speak seldom, and in a low voice; uncover yourself; advance with a slow and grave step; stop, at the same time making an inclination of your body, if any ceremony engages the assembly. whether the church be jewish, catholic, or protestant, recollect, that in this place men honor the creator of the universe; that here they seek consolation in their troubles, and pardon of their sins. if you visit a church or any similar edifice, from curiosity, endeavor to do it out of the time of service. contemplate silently the pictures, monuments, &c.; beware of imitating those vandals, who deface with their obscure and ephemeral names those monuments which are destined to endure for ages. do not like them forget, that the only thing which you can expect is a smile of contempt from all enlightened friends of the arts. do not wait till the keepers remind you of the remuneration due to their kindness in conducting you; offering it to them with your thanks on taking leave; and in order to this, be always provided with small change. the respect due to the place requires us to abstain from everything which resembles the cares of business. i have thus far spoken only the language of toleration, and of religious worship in general, but i am now going to use that of faith and devotion. let the neatness and modesty of your apparel, and your discreet and respectful deportment, show that you perceive what is due to the house of god. incline your body on entering; take the holy water;[ ] then advance by the shortest way, and without precipitation, to the place which you are to occupy; if possible, do not change it; neither put yourself in the passage, nor carry the chairs to a distance; take two together, to avoid turning your seat as circumstances may require in the course of the ceremony.[ ] if the services have commenced, place yourself in the rear, in order not to disturb those present by your coming. the same motive ought to prevent your going away before the end, except from pressing necessity. if you are accompanied by a lady to whom you owe deference, advance and present to her the holy water; prepare two chairs for her, and place yourself near. in leaving church, clear the passage for her; carry her prayer-book, present her again with the holy water, and hold the door open to let her pass. indeed, these two last marks of politeness should be shown indiscriminately by well-bred people to any who happen to be near them, in entering or leaving the church. kind regards towards our neighbors are a worthy accompaniment of devotion. if on a crowded occasion you have two chairs, it is well to offer one of them to those who have none; a man ought even to give up his own to a lady who might be standing. every one knows that it is contrary to the sanctity of the place, to walk in a church as upon a public promenade; to convene there as in a private house; to cast on one side and the other looks of curiosity; to have a mien which displays uneasiness or weariness; to balance yourself upon the seat, or shake in an annoying manner that of the person before you; to carry with you dogs, packets, &c. during the sermon, it is necessary to endeavor to make no noise, and to bow with profound respect every time the preacher pronounces the sacred name of jesus christ.[ ] whether you give or withhold an offering to the mendicants of either sex, they should be answered by a kind salutation. it is entirely contrary to religious propriety to press forward, in going to the altar; you ought to wait in silence your turn, without trying to supplant those before you; however, should you have any urgent motives, you can make them known with mildness and politeness. disputes which arise with regard to this, are at the same time an absurdity and impiety. when you take a place at the holy table, you should lay aside gloves, book, cane, &c. it is well for ladies to cover themselves with a veil half drawn; it is a mark of reverence as well as modesty. [ ] the directions which here follow, are obviously intended for those who profess the catholic religion; but most of them are also applicable to other denominations of christians.--_t._ [ ] this refers to the usage in catholic churches, in which the consecrated or holy water is kept in a vase, appropriated to the purpose, near the entrance and in other parts of the church.--_t._ [ ] these directions are more particularly applicable to catholic churches in foreign countries, where it is not the general custom, as in the united states, to have pews. the whole floor is an open area, and supplied with chairs; each person, during service takes two, one of which he sits in, and places the other before him to kneel upon. this custom of using chairs, however, is not universal even in europe; and the author observes, in a note, that it were to be wished that in all parts of france they would adopt the custom observed at havre, dieppe, and other cities of normandy, where, instead of having chairs, the churches are furnished throughout with fixed seats or benches, by which means the service is conducted with much more order and decorum.--_t._ [ ] this latter direction is more particularly applicable to catholic usage.--_t._ section ii. _of religious propriety in our intercourse with the world._ if it is a fundamental principle of propriety of conduct not to wound any one in his self-esteem, his tastes, or interests, much more is it necessary to respect his religious opinions. to make sport of faith, that powerful, deep and involuntary sentiment, before which the law yields; to deliver to the pain of doubting, hearts just become pious and tranquil; to awaken a spirit of fanaticism and religious excesses; to cause one's self to be considered by some as an imprudent, by others an unworthy person, and by all as an enemy to politeness and tolerance,--are the sad results of raillery against religious observances, raillery, too, almost always dictated by a desire of showing off one's wit. these results take place without any exception; impious sarcasms in serious people constantly do injury; but they become still more revolting in the mouths of females, who, like angels, ought ever to show themselves lovely, pure, and free from passion; whom bernardin saint pierre designates with much feeling and justice the _pious sex_. we ought not however to proscribe entirely delicate and happy allusions, or comparisons drawn from the sacred books, and made in a proper spirit. it is useless, i think, to adduce instances; suffice it to add, that rigor alone can reprove them, and that the occasion sometimes renders them very seasonable. as to religious discussions, they above all demand the most reserve and care, since without our knowledge conscience frequently becomes in them auxiliary to pride. if then you are unable to command yourself; if you do not feel enough of logical power, enough of grace, or at least of exactness of elocution, to contend with success, avoid controversies; avoid them through fear of committing, in the eyes of weak people, that religion which you defend, and of exposing yourself to lasting ridicule. but, whatever be the skill which you exhibit in eluding the arguments of your adversary, whatever be your triumph, and although your disposition should urge you, never turn a serious discussion into jest; from that moment you would lose all your advantages, and, although overthrown, your antagonist will recover himself with this just reflection, that 'nothing is proved by a jest.' finally, while you manifest on every occasion a sincere and profound respect for religion, beware above all things of making a proclamation of your piety. avoid talking with those in your parish, about your confessor, and your religious observances. if you do not distinguish yourself from the crowd, they will take you for a hypocrite, or a person of small mind. if you recommend yourself, on the contrary, by superior merit, they will think that you take pleasure in showing the contrast which exists between your exalted talents and your humble faith. between ourselves, would they be in the wrong? chapter ii. _of propriety of conduct in relation to domestic duties._ since we admit that there are duties of propriety relative to piety, there are also duties relative to filial piety, that other worship, that familiar veneration of the deity, whom our parents represent on earth. the most sublime, the most touching marks of religion and of nature unite in commanding us to love and honor those from whom we have received life. we shall not offend our readers by supposing it requisite to insist upon the necessity of fulfilling a duty which is felt by all correct minds and all good hearts. the custom has prevailed of addressing the father and mother in the second person.[ ] this mark of great confidence, and affectionate freedom, ought never to degenerate into an offensive familiarity. we ought always to address them in a respectful and kind tone; to anticipate them in every thing; to ask their advice; to receive their reproofs with submission; to be silent with regard to the errors they may commit; to show them a lively gratitude on every occasion; in short, whatever advantage you have over them, be careful to conceal it, and consider them always your superiors, your benefactors and your guides. besides the daily marks of deference which we should show to our parents, there are other particular attentions for which our affection should seek every occasion. at certain periods, such as the new year, the birth day or day of baptism, we should offer them tender congratulations, or ingeniously devised presents. we are not allowed to dispense with these delicate attentions. if you have success in the sciences or arts, make appropriate presents to those from whom you have derived the benefits of your education. if you are separated from your father and mother, write to them frequently; let your style be impressed with a devoted affection; repeat more particularly at the end of your letters the sentiments of respect and of love with which you should be inspired. as to what your uncles, aunts, brothers, sisters, and cousins require of you, you will know what are the duties of propriety in that respect, if you feel how dear family ties are; you will show towards some a respectful, and towards the others a friendly politeness. they should claim on every occasion your first visits and your first attentions; you should identify yourself with them in all their prosperity or adversity; invite them above all others to fêtes and meetings at your house, unless when you assemble a party on a special occasion, at which they would be entire strangers. you should always take care to invite your relations by themselves from time to time, to prove that you have no intention of slighting them. you may be more intimate with some of your family, and give them particular proofs of affection; but in these meetings you will do well to abstain from every act of preference. without being at all wanting in cordiality, a little more ceremony should be used towards your relations by marriage, to whom you indeed owe as much respect as to your own relations. [ ] this is an allusion to the idiom of the french language, and is inapplicable in english.--_t._ chapter iii. _of propriety of conduct in conjugal and domestic relations._ if any thing can render politeness ridiculous, and even odious, it is the disposition of certain persons, who in society are moderate, amiable, and gracious, but in private show themselves morose, rough and ill-natured. this fault, much too common, is one of the greatest inconsistencies of the human mind. you use all your exertions to please the world which you only see cursorily, and in which you have only power to procure a few moments of pleasure, and you neglect to be agreeable to your husband or wife, from whom you expect the happiness of a whole life. perhaps it would be better to be continually capricious or harsh, for the contrast of your politeness in the drawing-room with your impoliteness at home makes you appear still more odious. conjugal intimacy, it is true, dispenses with the etiquette established by politeness, but it does not dispense with attentions. in the presence of your wife or husband, you ought never to do those things which carry with them an idea of disgust, nor perform those duties of the toilet, which before any one but yourself offend decency and cleanliness.[ ] one ought never to permit disorder in his wardrobe under the excuse that he is just up, or at his own house. to dress with neatness, and elegant simplicity is important, even at home. the conversation of husband and wife cannot be elegant, and sustained in the same manner that it is in society; it would indeed be superlatively ridiculous that it should not have interruption or relaxation, but it should be free from all impoliteness and indelicacy. if at any time the society of your husband or wife causes you _ennui_, you ought neither to say so, nor give any suspicion of the cause by abruptly changing the conversation. in all discussions you should watch yourself attentively, lest domestic familiarity raise itself by degrees to the pitch of a quarrel. it is especially to females that this advice is addressed, and to the impressive words of scripture, 'woman was not created for wrath,' we may add these, 'she was created for gentleness.' to entertain with a politeness particularly affectionate the friends of a person with whom you are connected by marriage; to respect inviolably the letters which she writes or receives; to avoid prying into the secrets which she conceals from you through delicacy; never to act contrary to her inclinations, unless they are injurious to herself, and even in this case not to oppose her, but to endeavor to check them with address and kindness; to beware of confiding to strangers or to domestics the little vexations which she causes you; to dread like poison marks of contempt, coldness, suspicion, or reproaches; to apologize promptly and in an affectionate manner if you have allowed yourself to run into any ill humor; to receive her counsels with attention, and benevolence, and to execute them as quickly as possible--these are the obligations of propriety and love, to which husbands possessed of gentleness bind themselves, by the sanctity of the vows which they have taken before god. there is a still more rigorous duty for a new husband, and for well married persons; they must abstain in public from every mark of affection too conspicuous, and every exclusive attention. married persons who, in society, place themselves continually near one another, and who converse and dance together, do not escape the ridicule to which their feelings blind them. in society, we ought above every thing to avoid being personal; for a husband or a wife, is another self; and we must forget that _self_. mothers, in particular, spare no caresses towards your children, occupy yourselves entirely with them, unless perhaps you fear to render them proud, difficult and insupportable; if you fatigue people by having them always present, if you encourage or repeat their prattle and their sports; if, on the other hand, you treat them with severity before strangers, if you reprimand or punish them, be assured every one will consider you importunate as well as ridiculous. domestic propriety, which is at once a duty of justice, religion and humanity, is also a source of peace and pleasure. servants treated with suitable regard, are attentive, zealous and grateful, and consequently every thing is done with propriety and affection. who does not know the charm and value of this? duties of this class require that you should never command your domestics with hauteur and harshness. every time that they render you a service, it claims an expression, a gesture, or at least a look of thankfulness; it requires that you should be still more affectionate towards the domestics of your acquaintances, and especially towards those of your friends, whom you ought always to treat kindly. as to your own domestics, you should carefully beware of addressing to them any confidential or even useless conversation, for fear of rendering them insolent or familiar; but propriety requires you to listen to them with kindness, and give them salutary advice when it is for their interest. it commands us also to show them indulgence frequently, in order to be able, when there is cause, to reprove them with firmness, without being obliged to have recourse to the false energy of anger. the _ton_ of domestics ordinarily announces that of their masters. never suffer them to remain seated while answering distinguished persons who ask for you. take care that they do it always in a civil and polite manner; let them lose no time, if there is occasion, in relieving your visitors of their over-shoes, umbrellas, cloaks, &c.; let them go before, to save your visitors the trouble of opening and shutting the door. when an announcement is made, let them inform themselves respectfully of the name of the person, and pronounce it while holding open for them the door of your room. if you are not there, let them offer a seat, requesting the guests to wait a moment while they go to call you. when visitors take leave, domestics ought to manifest a promptness in opening the outer door; they should hold the door by the handle, while you converse with the person whom you reconduct; they should present them respectfully with whatever garments they may have thrown off, and aid them in again putting them on; and should, if occasion requires, light them to the door, going slowly behind them. accustom your domestics never to appear before you too poorly, or too much dressed; never to sit in your presence, especially while waiting upon the table; not to enter into conversation; never to answer by signs, or in coarse terms. it is only among the badly educated people of the small towns that they say, the 'maid,' the 'boy,' the 'domestic,' the 'servant;' and among the proud, ill-bred fashionables, who ape grandeur; the 'lackey,' the 'valet,' 'my people;' well-bred persons simply say, the 'nurse,' the 'cook,' the 'chamber-maid,' &c. and what is still better, they designate their domestics by their christian names. if you have ever met with those merciless housekeepers who give you a whole tariff of the commodities which they have been to market to purchase, attended by their maid; who entertain you constantly with the insults and unfaithfulness of their domestics; who fly into a passion before you on account of a glass broken, of which they require the value, and make you witness and judge of pert discussions occasioned by servants' mistakes; if you have had the misfortune to dine with such persons, and have seen them hand reluctantly to their sullen maid-servants one key after another, to arrange the dessert brought by them with a good supply of ill-humor; if you have seen them go to the cellar themselves, and when they have just left the table, to arrange in a surly manner the wine, sugar, and delicacies, tell me, poor guest, if, turning your head away with confusion and disgust, you have not an hundred times said to yourself, 'oh! what living and disgusting models of upstarts or provincials.' [ ] as washing the feet, cutting the nails, &c. chapter iv. _of propriety as regards one's self._ attention to one's person and reputation is also a duty. if vanity, pride, or prudery, have frequently given to these attentions the names of coquetry, ambition, or folly, this is a still stronger reason, why we should endeavor to clear up these points. section i. _of the toilet._ propriety requires that we should always be clothed in a cleanly and becoming manner, even in private, in leaving our bed, or in the presence of no one. it requires that our clothing be in keeping with our sex, fortune, profession, age, and form, as well as with the season, the different hours of the day and our different occupations. let us now descend to the particulars of these general rules. the dress for a man on his first rising, is a cap of cotton, or silk and cotton, a morning gown, or a vest with sleeves; for a lady, a small muslin cap, (bonnet de percale,) a camisole or common robe. it is well that a half corset should precede the full corset, which last is used only when one is dressed; for it is bad taste for a lady not to be laced at all. the hair papers, which cannot be removed on rising (because the hair would not keep in curl till evening,) should be concealed under a bandeau of lace or of the hair. they should be removed as soon as may be. in this dress, we can receive only intimate friends or persons, who call upon urgent or indispensable business; even then we ought to offer some apology for it. to neglect to take off this morning dress as soon as possible, is to expose one's self to embarrassments often very painful, and to the appearance of a want of education. moreover, it is well to impose upon yourself a rule to be dressed at some particular hour (the earliest possible,) since occupations will present themselves to hinder your being ready for the day; and you will easily acquire the habit of this. such disorder of the toilet can be excused when it occurs rarely, or for a short time, as in such cases it seems evidently owing to a temporary embarrassment; but if it occur daily, or constantly; if it seems the result of negligence and slovenliness, it is unpardonable, particularly in ladies, whose dress seems less designed for clothing than ornament. to suppose that great heat of weather will authorise this disorder of the toilet, and will permit us to go in slippers, or with our legs and arms bare, or to take nonchalant or improper attitudes, is an error of persons of a low class, or destitute of education. even the weather of dog-days would not excuse this; and if we would remain thus dressed, we must give directions that we are not at home. on the other hand, to think that cold and rainy weather excuses like liberties, is equally an error. you ought not to be in the habit of wearing large socks (this is addressed particularly to ladies,) as socks of list and similar materials; much less noisy shoes, such as wooden ones, galoches lined with fur, shoes with wooden soles, socks, &c.; this custom is in the worst taste. when you go to see any one, you cannot dispense with taking off your socks or clogs before you are introduced into the room. for to make a noise in walking is entirely at variance with good manners. however pressed one may be, a lady of good breeding should not go out in a morning dress, neither with an apron nor cap, even if it is made of fine cloth and trimmed with ribbands; nor should a well-bred man show himself in the street in a waistcoat only, a jacket without sleeves, &c. we said before that the dress should be adapted to the different hours of the day. ladies should make morning calls in an elegant and simple négligé, all the details of which we cannot give, on account of their multiplicity and the numerous modification of fashion. we shall only say that ladies generally should make these calls in the dress which they wear at home. gentlemen may call in an outside coat, in boots and pantaloons, as when they are on their ordinary business. in short, this dress is proper for gentlemen's visits in the middle of the day. with regard to ladies, it is necessary for them when visiting at this time, to arrange their toilet with more care. ceremonious visits, evening visits, and especially balls, require more attention to the dress of gentlemen, and a more brilliant costume for ladies. there are for the latter, head-dresses particularly designed for such occasions, and for no other, such as rich blond caps, ornamented with flowers, brilliant _berrets_ and _toques_, appropriate to the drawing-room. the nicest cloth, new and very fine linen, an elegant but plain waistcoat; a beautiful watch, to which is attached a single costly key, thin and well polished shoes, an entirely new hat, of a superior quality--this is a dress at once recherché and rigorously exact, for gentlemen of good taste and _ton_. one's profession requires very little modification of this costume; we should observe, however, that men of science (savans) and literary men and those in the profession of the law, should avoid having a fashionable or military costume, which is generally adopted by students, commercial men, and _exquisites_, for the sake of _ton_ or for want of something to do. situation in the world determines among ladies, those differences, which though otherwise well marked, are becoming less so every day. every one knows that whatever be the fortune of a young lady, her dress ought always, in form as well as ornaments, to exhibit less of a recherché appearance and should be less showy than that of married ladies. costly cashmeres, very rich furs, and diamonds, as well as many other brilliant ornaments, are to be forbidden a young lady; and those who act in defiance of these rational marks of propriety make us believe that they are possessed of an unrestrained love of luxury, and deprive themselves of the pleasure of receiving these ornaments from the hand of the man of their choice. all ladies cannot use indiscriminately the privilege which marriage confers upon them in this respect, and the toilet of those whose fortune is moderate should not pass the bounds of an elegant simplicity. considerations of a more elevated nature, as of good domestic order, the dignity of a wife, and the duties of a mother, come in support of this law of propriety, for it concerns morality in all its branches. we must beware of a shoal in this case; frequently a young lady of small fortune, desiring to appear decently in any splendid assembly, makes sacrifices in order to embellish her modest attire. but these sacrifices are necessarily inadequate; a new and brilliant article of dress is placed by the side of a mean or old one. the toilet then wants harmony, which is the soul of elegance as well as of beauty. moreover, whatever be the opulence which you enjoy, luxury encroaches so much upon it, that no riches are able to satisfy its demands; but fortunately propriety, always in accordance with reason, encourages by this maxim social and sensible women. neither too high, nor too low; it is equally ridiculous either to pretend to be the most showy, or to display the meanest attire in an assembly. the rules suitable to age resemble those which mediocrity of fortune imposes; for instance, old ladies ought to abstain from gaudy colors, recherché designs, too late fashions, and graceful ornaments, as feathers, flowers, and jewels. a lady in her decline dressed in her hair, and wearing a dress with short sleeves, adorned with collars, bracelets, &c. offends against propriety as much as against her interest and dignity. the rigorous simplicity of the dress of men establishes but very little difference between that of young and old. the latter, however, ought to choose grave colors, not to follow the fashions too closely; to avoid garments too tight or too short, and not to have in view in their toilet any other object but ease and neatness. unless the care of their health, or complete baldness, requires them to wear a wig,[ ] it is more proper that old persons should show their white and noble heads. old ladies, whom custom requires to conceal this respectable sign of a long life, should at least avoid hair too thick or too full of curls. if they would not appear ridiculous and clothed in a manner disagreeable or offensive, ladies ought to adopt in summer light garments, and delicate colors, and in winter, furs, thick and warm fabrics, and deep colors. men till lately were almost free from this obligation; they used to be constantly clothed in broadcloth in all seasons: but now, although this may form the basis of their toilet, they must select stuffs for winter or summer, as may be suitable. it is in good ton for gentlemen to wear a rich cloak; an outer garment over the coat (especially one of silk,) is left for men of a certain age. it only belongs to septuagenarians and ecclesiastics to wear doublets or wadded outer coats. to finish our instructions relative to the toilet, it only remains for us to make a few observations. it is superlatively ridiculous for a lady to go on foot, when dressed in her hair, or attired for the drawing-room or a ball. if one dwells in a provincial town where it is not customary to use carriages, they should go in a chair. who does not perceive how laughable it is to see a lady who is clothed in satin lace, or velvet, laboriously travelling in the dust or mud. vary your toilet as much as possible, for fear that idlers and malignant wits, who are always a majority in the world, should amuse themselves by making your dress the description of your person. certain fashionables seek to gain a kind of reputation by the odd choice of their attire, and by their eagerness to seize upon the first caprices of the fashions. propriety with difficulty tolerates these fancies of a spoiled child: but it applauds a woman of sense and taste, who is not in a hurry to follow the fashions and asks how long they will probably last before adopting them; finally, who selects and modifies them with success according to her size and figure. it would be extremely clownish to carry dirt into a decent house, especially if one makes a ceremonious visit; and, when there is much mud, or when we cannot walk with skill, it is proper to go in a carriage, or at least to put in requisition the services of a shoe-black at a short distance from the house. [ ] young people who become bald, should not hesitate to have recourse to wigs. nothing more saddens the appearance, than those bald skulls, which seem always to invite the observations of the anatomist. section ii. _of reputation._ among the cares which propriety obliges us to take of our person, to please is but an accessary circumstance; the principal end is to indicate by cleanliness, and the suitableness of apparel, that good order, a sense of what is right, and politeness in all things, direct our thoughts and actions. in this point of view, we see that a regard to reputation is the necessary consequence of the duties of propriety toward one's self. to inspire esteem and consideration, is then the grand object of propriety of conduct; for without this treasure, the relations of society would be a humiliation and punishment. they are obtained by the accomplishment of our obligations of family and of our profession; by our probity and good manners; by our fortune and situation in society. consideration is not acquired by words; an article so precious demands a real value; it demands also the assistance of discretion. so that we must begin by fulfilling exactly our duties towards relations; but we must beware of making public those petty quarrels, and little differences of interest, of ill humor or opinion, which sometimes trouble families most closely united. these momentary clouds, soon dissipated by affection and confidence, would be engraven on the memory of others as a proof of your domestic discords, and in the end, of your faults.[ ] probity, that powerful means of obtaining consideration, by its elevated and religious nature, is not within our investigation of the principles of politeness. this is not the case with that consideration which is attached to purity of morals. the proof of probity is in probity itself; but, thanks to the delicate shades of reputation, in regard to chastity, there exists, independently of good conduct, a multitude of cares, and precautions, which, however minute and embarrassing at times, ought never to be neglected. ladies, to whom the advice contained in this paragraph is particularly addressed, know how the shadow of suspicion withers and torments them. this shadow, it is necessary to avoid at all hazards, and on that account to submit to all the requirements of propriety. young married ladies are at liberty to visit by themselves their acquaintances, but they cannot present themselves in public without their husband, or an aged lady. they are at liberty however to walk with young married ladies or unmarried ones, while the latter should never walk alone with their companions. neither should they show themselves except with a gentleman of their family, and then he should be a near relation or of respectable age. except in certain provincial towns, where there is a great strictness in behavior, young married ladies receive the visits of gentlemen; they permit their company in promenades, without suffering the least injury to their reputation, provided it is always with men of good morals, and that they take care to avoid every appearance of coquetry. young widows have equal liberty with married ladies. a lady ought not to present herself alone in a library, or a museum, unless she goes there to study or work as an artist. a lady ought to have a modest and measured gait; too great hurry injures the grace which ought to characterize her. she should not turn her head on one side and the other, especially in large towns, where this bad habit seems to be an invitation to the impertinent. if such persons address her in any flattering or insignificant terms, she should take good care not to answer them a word. if they persist, she should tell them in a brief and firm, though polite tone, that she desires to be left to herself. if a man follow her in silence, she should pretend not to perceive him, and at the same time hasten a little her step. towards the close of the day, a young lady would conduct herself in an unbecoming manner, if she should go alone; and if she passes the evening with any one, she ought to see that a domestic comes to accompany her, if not, to request the person whom she is visiting, to allow some one to do so. but however much this may be considered proper, and consequently an obligation, a married lady well educated will disregard it if circumstances prevent her being able, without trouble, to find a conductor. if the master of the house wishes to accompany you himself, you must excuse yourself politely from giving him so much trouble, but finish however by accepting. on arriving at your house, you should offer him your thanks. in order to avoid these two inconveniences, it will be well to request your husband, or some one of your relations to come and wait upon you; you will in this way avoid still another inconvenience; in small towns, where malice is excited by ignorance and want of something to do, they frequently censure the most innocent acts; it is not uncommon to hear slanderous and silly gossips observe, that madame such-a-one goes to madame such-a-one's for the sake of returning with her husband. the seeds of such an imputation, once sown, quickly come to maturity. the care of the reputation of ladies further demands that they should have a modest deportment; should abstain from forward manners, and free speeches. [ ] as to the means of obtaining consideration, in performing the duties appertaining to our station in life, see the following chapters. chapter v. _of propriety, in regard to one's business or profession._ besides general politeness, that ready money which is current with all, there is a polite deportment suited to every profession. interest, custom, and the desire of particular esteem, the necessity of moderating the enthusiasm which almost constantly animates us,--are the motives which determine the different kinds of politeness that we are going to consider as regards shopkeepers, people in office, lawyers, physicians, artists, military men, and ecclesiastics. as all this politeness is mutual, we shall necessarily speak of the obligations imposed upon people who have intercourse with these different persons. section i. _politeness of shopkeepers and customers._ politeness in shopkeepers is a road to fortune, which the greater part of them are careful not to neglect, especially at paris, where we find particularly the model of a well-bred shopkeeper. it is this model that we wish to hold up even to some parisians, and to the retail dealers of the provincial towns, as well as to those who are unacquainted with trade, but are destined to that profession. when a customer calls, the shopkeeper should salute him politely, without inquiring after his health, unless he be intimately acquainted with him. he then waits until the customer has made known his wishes, advances toward him, or brings forward a seat, then shows him, with great civility, the articles for which he has inquired. if the purchaser be difficult to suit, capricious, ridiculous, or even disdainful, the shopkeeper ought not to appear to perceive it; he may however in such cases, show a little coldness of manner. the part which shopkeepers have to act is frequently painful, we must allow; there are some people who treat them like servants; there are some _capricious fashionables_, who go into a shop only to pass the time, to see the new fashions, and who, with this object make the shopkeeper open a hundred bundles, show heaps of goods, and finish by going out, saying in a disdainful tone that nothing suits them. there are some merciless purchasers who contend for a few cents with all the tenacity of avarice, obstinacy and pride; however, under all these vexations, the shopkeeper must show constant urbanity. he waits upon such imperious purchasers with readiness, but nevertheless in silence, for he must be convinced that the more complying we are to people of this sort, the more haughty and difficult they show themselves. with _capricious fashionables_, his patience should never forsake him; and although he well knows what will be the result of their fatiguing call, he nevertheless should show them his goods, as if he thought they really intended to buy; for sometimes this tempts them to purchase. even though his politeness should be all lost, he should still express his regret at not having been able to suit the lady, and hope to be more fortunate another time; he should then conduct her politely to the door, which he should hold open until her carriage leaves it. a shopkeeper who wishes to save time, words and vexation, who even feels the dignity of his profession, ought to sell at a fixed price, or if he does not announce that he sells in that mode, he ought at least to adopt it, and not to have what is called an _asking_ price. if however he has to do with those gossips who think themselves cheated unless something is abated, or who design to impose sacrifices on the shopkeepers, it is necessary to carry on this ridiculous skirmishing politely, and to yield by degrees, without exhibiting any marks of displeasure at these endless debates. but the dealer of _bon ton_ abstains from those lofty assurances, those laughable adjurations, declarations of loss, and of preference, as, _i lose all profit, it is because it is you_, and other foolish things, which make a lackey's office of a truly respectable profession. the clerks should carry the articles purchased to the desk, whither they should politely conduct the purchaser; they then should make up the bundle which they should not deliver until the bill is settled, and the purchaser is ready to depart. if the latter is not on foot, the bundle should not be delivered until he is seated in the carriage, and the door is ready to be shut. if, on the contrary, the purchaser is not in a carriage, he must be asked whether he wishes to have the bundle carried home. this politeness is indispensable if the bundle is large, and especially if the purchaser is a lady. it is further necessary that the person at the desk should offer small change for the balance of the purchase, and should apologise if he is obliged to give copper or heavy money; he ought to present a bill of the articles, and not show any ill-humor if the purchaser thinks proper to look over it. there is one circumstance which tries the politeness of the most civil shopkeepers; it is when an assortment is wanted. it is indeed irksome enough to show a great quantity of goods, and give patterns of them, with the certainty almost that all you do will avail nothing. but it ought not to be forgotten, that like all other qualities, politeness has its trials, and that perhaps the person who has thus chanced to call at their shop, will be induced by this amenity of behavior, to continue always a customer. we trust that the shopkeepers' clerks, in the recommendations which we are now about to give them, will not see any silly attempt to address them with smart sayings. by enjoining upon them to avoid volubility--a disrespectful familiarity toward ladies--extravagant praises of their goods--an affected zeal in serving rich persons--an impolite tardiness, and disdainful inattention to people of a diffident manner--the ridiculous habit of wishing to make conversation--to urge people to buy whether they wish to or not--to stun them with the names of all the goods in the shop--by enjoining upon them to avoid these things, we intend less to join in than to preserve them from the reproaches of fault finders. every civility ought to be reciprocal, or nearly so. if the officious politeness of the shopkeeper does not require an equal return, he has at least a claim to civil treatment; and, finally, if this politeness proceed from interest, is this a reason why purchasers should add to the unpleasantness of his profession, and trouble themselves little at violating the laws of politeness? many very respectable people allow themselves so many infractions on this point, that i think it my duty to dwell upon it. you should never say, _i want such a thing_, but, _have the goodness to show me_, or _show me, if you please, that article_, or use some other polite form of address. if they do not show you at first the articles you desire, and you are obliged to examine a great number, apologize to the shopkeeper for the trouble you give him. if, after all you cannot suit yourself, renew your apologies, when you go away. if you make small purchases, say, _i ask your pardon_, or _i am sorry for having troubled you for so trifling a thing_. if you spend a considerable time in the selection of articles, apologize to the shopkeeper who waits for you to decide. if the price seems to you too high, and that the shop has not fixed prices, ask an abatement in brief and civil terms, and without ever appearing to suspect the good faith of the shopkeeper. if he does not yield, do not enter into a contest with him, but go away, after telling him politely that you think you can obtain the article cheaper elsewhere, but if not, that you will give him the preference. if the clerk ends by asking whether you wish for any other article, answer always in a manner to encourage him that you will call again. we should never neglect to be agreeable. thank him always when you go out. section ii. _politeness between persons in office and the public._ this is not very conspicuous; nor can it be, since in this case, the desire of pleasing and the expectation of gain, have no influence. besides, as we remain but a moment with these gentlemen, and as they have business with a great many people, the observances and forms of politeness would be misplaced. the following are points to be observed by them, and are by no means rigid; the greater therefore the reason for conforming to them. a man in office is not obliged to rise and salute people, nor to offer them a seat; it is enough for him to receive them by an inclination of the head, and make a sign with the hand, to intimate to them to be seated. the business being finished, he salutes them on leaving, as before, and never conducts them back to the door. it would be ridiculous to be offended with these _bureaucratic_ forms, and still more so, to wish to enter into conversation, to make inquiries concerning the health, &c. in proportion to their official habits, those in office ought to watch themselves with care in society. section iii. _politeness of lawyers and their clients._ politeness is a very difficult thing for this respectable class, who see constantly before their eyes people always animated with a feeling which renders them little amiable, namely, interest. besides, being in the habit of refuting their adversaries, and being obliged to do it promptly, they acquire, in general, a kind of bluntness, a decisive tone, a spirit of contradiction, of which they ought to be distrustful in society, and also in their places of business. the familiar usage of common inquiries after the health is not customary between attorneys or advocates and their clients, unless they have before been acquainted with them. they are however bound to observe attentions which are not practised by persons in office. they rise to salute their clients, offer them a seat, and conduct them to the door when they take leave; they observe what is due to sex, rank, and age. as to clients, they ought to conform to the ordinary rules of civility; they ought, moreover, not to exhibit any signs of impatience while they are waiting until they can be received. they should take care to be clear and precise in the narration of their business, and not to importune by vain repetitions or passionate declamations, the counsellor who is listening to them. they should also consider that his moments are precious, and should retire so soon as they shall have sufficiently instructed him in their business. section iv. _politeness of physicians and their patients._ the observances adopted in the offices of lawyers, are likewise practised with consulting physicians; but sympathy should give to the tone or manner of the latter a more affectionate character. patients well educated will beware of abusing it, and will keep to themselves all complaints which are useless towards a knowledge of their malady. they will answer the questions of the doctor in a clear, brief, and polite manner; and when these questions do not embrace the observations which they may have made on their own disorder, they will say so, at the same time observing some excuse like the following; _i ask your pardon; this observation is perhaps idle, but being myself ignorant, and wishing to omit nothing, i submit it to your good judgment._ you ought to give frequent and heartfelt thanks to the physician who affords you his advice or attentions. the circumstance of his being unsuccessful does not exonerate you from these testimonies of gratitude; it renders them perhaps more obligatory, for delicacy requires that you should not appear tacitly to reproach him on account of his having been unfortunate in his efforts. being obliged to speak of different wants, and of different parts of the body, for which politeness has no appropriate language, the physician ought to avoid being obscure or gross, particularly when addressing ladies. a forgetfulness of these forms often renders insupportable even a meritorious and learned man. every one knows, with what delicate precautions a physician ought to speak before the patient and his family, of the nature of the illness and of the probable consequences when there exists any danger; in what guarded terms he should at last disclose to them a fatal termination, if unfortunately it has become inevitable. every body knows, also, that however poignant may be the grief of parents, they ought never to let it appear in their conversations with the physician, that they regard him as the cause of their affliction. section v. _politeness of artists and authors, and the deference due to them._ do artists come under the common rule, it will perhaps be said? and i shall ask, in my turn: do they live like others,--these men, always absorbed in one strong and single conception, with which they, like the creator, wish to animate matter?--who seek everywhere the secret of the beautiful which goads, infatuates, and evades them?--passionate, absorbed in thought, ingenuous, almost always strangers to calculation, to pleasure, and to the occupations of the world? no, they have a separate existence, one which the world does not comprehend, and which they ought to conceal from the world. if, as we shall see hereafter, one should avoid speaking of his profession, and of his personal affairs, for a still stronger reason, an artist ought to be silent about his own labors, his success, and his hopes. people will accuse him of arrogance, of vanity, and perhaps even of madness; for enthusiasm is not included in, nor admitted into society, because there the ridiculous is feared above everything, _and from the sublime to the ridiculous there is but one step_. let him, then, reserve only for his friends, for true friends of the arts, his noble and striking bursts of inspiration. people are also generally prone to suspect artists of jealousy. in order to escape this accusation, and at the same time preserve the right of telling their thoughts, they ought to commend warmly what appears to them good, and criticise with much moderation and without any raillery what is defective. these observations are addressed equally to authors, with this important addition. besides the charge of arrogance, people are much disposed to accuse them of pedantry. let them therefore be careful, and check constantly the desire of entering into conversation upon the interesting subjects with which they are continually occupied. let them always be in fear of obtaining the name of a _bel esprit_, a name which calls up so many recollections of pedantry and affectation. a graceful simplicity, a happy mixture of elevation and naïveté, should characterise authors and artists, but particularly female authors and artists. ladies who handle the pen, the lyre, or the pencil, ought to be well persuaded that any vestige of prejudice raises against them, especially in provincial places, a multitude of unfavorable observations. and besides, so many half-instructed women have had so much the air and manners of upstarts, that this opinion is almost excusable. now this prejudice lays it down as a rule, that every female author or artist may be known at first sight, by her oddities, her want of modesty, or her pedantic folly. do away this unjust prejudice, my female friends: it will be both easy and pleasant; you will have only to follow the influence of an elevated soul, a pure taste; you will have but to remind yourselves that simplicity is the coquetry of genius. but if people who cultivate literature and the arts ought to apply themselves without reluctance or ill-humor to all the requirements of society; if they ought to strip themselves of all pretension, and forget themselves, others should not forget them. politeness requires that we converse with an author concerning his works; that we congratulate him on his success; that we bestow upon him suitable and delicate praises. if any of his works are unknown to us, we should ask of him the loan of it with earnestness; we should read it with promptitude, and prove to him by our citations that we have a thorough acquaintance with it. if he makes us a present of any of his productions, we shall owe him a call, or at least a billet of thanks. handsome compliments, and lively testimonials of acknowledgment, ought to fill up this visit or billet. remember, also, that to please an artist, it is necessary to flatter at once his taste, his self-esteem, and his cultivation of the fine arts. speak to him therefore like a connoisseur, or at least an admirer of music, or of painting. ask the favor of seeing his pictures, or of hearing his symphonies. contemplate the former a long time; listen to the latter with great attention; address to him lively congratulations mingled with thanks; then, by an adroit transition, put to him questions which prove your desire to be initiated into a knowledge of the arts. when an artist or a writer obtains any honorable distinction, as a prize, a medal, dramatic success, or an academical title, his friends and acquaintances should lose no time in offering him their compliments. those at a distance, may perform _this duty_ of politeness by writing. not only authors by profession, but literary persons who publish a discourse, a little work, or a pamphlet, should send, in an envelope, a copy to their family, friends, professional brethren, authors who have addressed to them similar presents, to their intimate acquaintances, their superiors, and to those persons to whom they owe respect--according to the nature of the work, and to the people with whom they have relations of pleasure, or of business. it is an affectionate and very polite custom for the author to write with his own hand at the top of the first leaf or of the cover, some kind or respectful words, according to the person to whom it is addressed. these words, which are designed to make of the gift a remembrance or homage, are always written under the name of the person, and signed by the author. we will here speak of a dedication only to observe, that we cannot dedicate a work to any one, without having previously obtained his consent, either verbally or by writing. when it is to the king, queen, or princes, it is necessary to write to their secretary, to know their wish in this respect. as to any other person of dignity, we may write to him without any intermediate agency. if the members of the royal family have accepted the dedication, the author is generally allowed the honor of presenting his work to them. section vi. _politeness of military men._ military politeness has, as we know, some particular characteristics. officers and soldiers do not uncover themselves on entering a church, if they are under arms; only, during the elevation of the host,[ ] they raise the right hand to the front part of their helmet, cap, or shako.[ ] when soldiers converse with their superiors, they constantly hold the edge of the hand to their forehead. on entering a drawing room, an officer lays down his sabre or his sword. it is not in good _ton_ for a man to present himself before ladies, in the uniform of the national guard, unless some circumstance excuses or authorises this liberty. in a citizen's dress, officers may wear a black cravat. if we are acquainted with military men, in addressing them, we call them only _general_, or _captain_; but it would be uncivil to give them the title of an inferior grade thus we should not say _lieutenant_. [ ] this has reference, of course, to catholic countries only. [ ] a kind of military cap. section vii. _politeness of ecclesiastics and females of religious orders; and the deference due to them.[ ]_ a priest should be considered in two points of view; when he is exercising his holy office, and when he is taking part in the relations of society. in the first case, he is an object of special respect; and even the title to be given him, the words to be addressed to him, the attitude to be taken in speaking to him, are regulated by the liturgy. but, although the ecclesiastic be not now in society an object of religious veneration, he has, as the representative of god, or as a minister of the altar, a right to much respect and deference. too light conversation, dancing and love songs, would be out of place in his presence. ecclesiastics have two shoals to avoid. their custom of preaching a severe and sacred morality, and of catechising or censuring with authority the penitent, gives them sometime a dogmatical and rigid tone, a pedantry of morality altogether contrary to social affability. sometimes, also, to guard against this result, which they feel to be almost inevitable, ecclesiastics, especially the more aged, indulge themselves in unsuitable pleasantries, which they would not dare to allow in men of the world. a mild gravity, a moderate gaiety, a noble and affectionate urbanity--these are the characteristics which ought to distinguish the ecclesiastic, in society. [ ] these remarks have particular reference to catholic countries and forms, but may many of them be applied to other denominations. part ii. of propriety of deportment in regard to our social relations. chapter i. _of deportment in the street._ some readers will perhaps be surprised to see me commence a chapter with the duty we owe to persons passing the street; but if they reflect upon it, they will see that there are, even on this subject, a sufficient number of things proper to be mentioned. when you are passing in the street, and see coming towards you a person of your acquaintance, whether a lady, a man raised to dignity, or an elderly person, you should offer them the _wall_, that is to say, the side next the houses. if a carriage happen to stop in such a manner as to leave only a narrow passage between it and the houses, beware of elbowing and rudely crowding the passengers, with a view to getting by more expeditiously: wait your turn, and if any one of the persons before mentioned comes up, you should edge up to the wall, in order to give them the place. they also, as they pass, ought to bow politely to you. if stormy weather has made it necessary to lay a plank across the gutters, which have become suddenly full of water, it is not proper to crowd before another, in order to pass over the frail bridge. further,--a young man of good breeding should promptly offer his hand to ladies, even if they are not acquaintances, when they pass such a place. you must pay attention to your manner of walking, for fear of throwing mud around you, and spattering yourself as well as those who accompany you, or who walk behind you. any person, particularly a lady, who walks in this improper manner, whatever her education may be in other respects, will always appear awkward and clumsy. every one knows that the parisian ladies are celebrated for their skill in walking: we see them in white stockings and thin shoes, passing through long, dirty, and blocked up streets, gliding by careless persons, and by vehicles crossing each other in every direction, and yet return home after a walk of several hours, without soiling their clothes in the least. to arrive at this astonishing result, which causes the wonder and vexation of provincial visitors on their first coming to paris, we must be careful to put the foot on the middle of the paving stones, and never on the edges, for, in that case, one inevitably slips into the interstice between one pavement and another: we must begin by supporting the toe, before we do the heel; and even when the mud is quite deep, we must put down the heel but seldom. when the street becomes less muddy, we can compensate ourselves for this fatigue, which, however, in the end, leaves us hardly sensible. this manner of walking is strictly necessary when you offer your arm to any one. when tripping over the pavement, (as the saying is) a lady should gracefully raise her dress a little above her ancle. with the right hand she should hold together the folds of her gown, and draw them towards the right side. to raise the dress on both sides, and with both hands, is vulgar. this ungraceful practice can be tolerated only for a moment, when the mud is very deep. it is an important thing in the streets of a large city to edge one's-self along; that is to avoid jostling and being jostled by those who are passing. a neglect of this attention, will make you appear not only awkward and ridiculous, but you will receive or give dangerous blows. one can edge along by turning sideways, contracting his arms, and watching with his eye the direction which it is best to take in order not to come in contact with the person who meets him. a little practice and care will soon make this duty familiar. to make our way along, becomes more difficult when we have a packet or an umbrella to carry, especially if the latter is open. it is then necessary to lower or raise it, or to turn it on one side. if you neglect these precautions, you run the risk of striking it against those who are coming and going, or of seeing it twirled round, and of being thrown against a carriage, or against some one who will complain bitterly of your incivility and awkwardness. if you have no umbrella, and find yourself overtaken by a sudden shower, and any person provided with one is going in the same direction, you may request them to shelter you; they should receive your request with much politeness, inform themselves of the place where you wish to stop, and offer to conduct you there, unless it is too much out of the way, or they be pressed for business; in this case, they should express their regret at not being able to accompany you so far as you wish. what we are now about to say, proves that a person truly polite, will not wait for you to make this request, but will use every exertion to anticipate it: we must observe however, whether age, sex, or dress present no objection; for sometimes one would be treated with ill-humor and contempt; and if you are a lady, particularly arrived at a certain age, it would be extremely unpleasant to accost a person, who, on his part, ought never to offer this favor, nor any other to ladies, and whose air and immodest manners indicate at once his vulgarity. it would be equally out of place to address such a request to those of a very low class; but if such an one asks the favor of you, it is proper to receive it with politeness. another not uncommon point of propriety to be observed, consists in asking and pointing out the different streets. if you have occasion for this service, you speak politely, and say in a kind tone, _madam_, or _sir, where is such a street, if you please?_ you should be careful to give this title to persons whom you address, even if they should be porters or hucksters. it is particularly to these that you should have recourse, for in addressing persons passing by, you are liable to meet those, who, as well as yourself, are strangers to the neighborhood, or to hinder those who are busy; it is moreover, impolite, to trouble shopkeepers in their places of business. the direction being given us, we should thank them, at the same time bowing. parisians are justly celebrated for the politeness and complaisance with which they show the way to passengers, and you ought to imitate them, every time that occasion offers. if you are a man, and a lady or distinguished person asks this favor of you, you should take off your hat while answering them. there are some ill-mannered and malicious persons, who take pleasure in misleading strangers by wrong directions. it will be enough to mention such impertinence in order to despise it as we ought. as to those young men who entertain a false idea that parisian ladies are coquettes or forward in their manners, and besides, that everything is allowable in a large city, let them be assured that a man who dares (as often happens) to address improper compliments to ladies, to follow them, to listen to their conversation, or to finish a sentence which they have begun, is a model of rudeness, an object of aversion to ladies, and of contempt to gentlemen. a young man of good manners ought not to look at a lady too narrowly, or he will pass for an impertinent fellow, who, as the saying is, stares people full in the face, (_sous le nez_.) it is especially when there are many persons assembled in one place that these boors play off their rude tricks; to which they give the name _hoaxes_ for the multitude, at first because they are unperceived, and afterwards, because the least bad among them think that the crowd are out of the jurisdiction of propriety. this opinion, which obtains among some persons, is an error. politeness becomes still more indispensable, in proportion to the assemblage. why are crowds usually so disagreeable, and even dangerous? it is because they are composed of people without education, who rudely push against their neighbors, with their fist or elbow, who neglect to follow the movement of going and coming; who, on occasion of the slightest collision, raise loud complaints, and, by their lamentations, their cries, and continual trepidation, render insupportable a situation which, without this, would be but troublesome enough. when we meet, in the street, a person of our acquaintance, we salute them by bowing and uncovering ourselves, if there is occasion. sometimes it is not enough to give a simple salutation, but we must go to the person and inquire how they are, if we see them frequently. while we are speaking, if there is occasion, and it be a lady, or an aged and respectable man, we remain uncovered: it is for the latter, who see how troublesome this politeness is in winter, to insist that the person addressing them should put on his hat. it also belongs to the person who is the more important of the two, to take leave first. for example, in a meeting of this kind, a gentleman never leaves a lady until she takes leave of him; nor is a young lady allowed to leave first a married or elderly lady. during this interview, which should be very short, the speaker of least importance ought to take the lower part of the side-walk, in order to keep the person with whom he is conversing, from the neighborhood of the carriages. it would be supremely ridiculous to enter into a long conversation, and thus detain, against their will, the person accosted. if we have anything urgent to say to them, we may ask permission to accompany them. we will add, that at paris, a young man ought to avoid approaching, and even saluting a young lady of his acquaintance, out of regard to the natural timidity of her sex. if there is a stranger with the one whom we meet, we must be contented with saluting the latter without stopping, otherwise we put his companion in a disagreeable position. this civility becomes a rigorous duty if they are accompanied by a lady. ancient gallantry required that in this last case, we not only should not stop, but still more, that we should not salute an acquaintance, or friend who may pass; this is in order not to force her companion to salute an unknown person (for one should bow every time that the person bows with whom we are;) but this custom may be modified. if it is a friend, or young man, one may be content with making merely a motion; but if it be an elderly man, a distinguished character, or a lady, it is necessary to salute them, saying to the companion: _i take the liberty to salute mr. or madam n._ if a person of your acquaintance is at a window, and you are thought to perceive them, you ought to address a salutation to them. but it is necessary to avoid speaking to them from the street, or of making signs to them, for this is a custom of bad _ton_. to enter into a long conversation with common and low people, who make their door-step their parlor, is to be almost as ill bred as they themselves are. chapter ii. _of different kinds of visits._ visits are a very important part of the social relations; they are not merely the simple means of communication established by necessity, since they have at once for their object, duty and pleasure, and they enter into almost all the acts of life. there are many kinds of visits, but we shall confine ourselves to the principal ones; as for those which only occur under peculiar circumstances, the reader will find them mentioned in the course of this work. the first are the visits on new year's day; next, visits of friendship and of ceremony: we shall not speak of visits of business; what we have said in speaking of propriety in relation to different professions, will dispense with our entering into new details. at the return of each new year, custom and duty require us to present ourselves to our relations first; afterwards to our patrons, our friends, and those who have done any kindness for us. these visits are divided into several classes; those of the evening or afternoon, which are the most polite; of the morning, which are the most friendly and respectful; by cards, and presenting one's-self, and by cards without presenting one's-self; visits weekly, which are confined to acquaintances with whom we have not very close relations; monthly, which are less ceremonious, but however partake of coldness: it is at paris more than any other place, that these visits are permitted; such calls demand much attention to the toilet; they should be as short as possible; a visit of quarter of an hour is long enough, and we should be careful to retire when other persons come in. we should appear ridiculous to wish persons _a happy new year_, in ceremonious visits. i shall not mention friendly calls, except to remind my readers, that almost all ceremony should be dispensed with. they are made at all hours, without preparation, without dressing; a too brilliant attire would be out of place, and if the engagements of the day carry you in such a costume at the house of a friend, you ought obligingly to make an explanation. should you not find them at home, do not leave a card; such useless ceremony would astonish your friends. merely remind the domestics to mention your calling, and do not leave your card, except the servants are absent; then the card should be rolled up, and put in the key-hole. it will be well to call again soon. with a friend, or relation whom we treat as such, we do not keep an account of our visits. the one who has most leisure, calls upon him who has the least; but this privilege ought not to be abused: it is necessary to make our visits of friendship at suitable times. on the contrary, a visit of ceremony should never be made without keeping an account of it, and we should even remember the intervals at which they are returned; for it is indispensably necessary to let a similar interval elapse. people in this way give you notice whether they wish to see you often or seldom. there are some persons whom one goes to see once in a month, others once a fortnight, &c.; others, however, less frequently. in order not to omit visits, which are to be made, or to avoid making them from misinformation, when a preceding one has not been returned, persons who have an extensive acquaintance, will do well to keep a little memorandum for this purpose. we cannot make ceremonious visits in a becoming manner, if we have any slight indisposition which may for the time affect our appearance, our voice--which may embarrass our thoughts, and render our company fatiguing; such for instance as a swelled face, a cold, a slight headache; in that case it would appear impolite and familiar. on the contrary, make visits of friendship under such circumstances, and then you will appear more amiable and zealous. to take a suitable time, is as indispensable in visiting, as in any thing else. one can attain this, by remembering the habits of the person he is going to see; by making your arrangements so as not to call at the time of taking meals, in moments of occupation, and when our friends are walking. this time necessarily varies; but as a general rule we must take care not to make ceremonious visits, either before the middle of the day, or after five o'clock. to do otherwise would, on the one hand, look like importunity, by presenting one's-self too early; and on the other, might interfere with arrangements that had been made for the evening. after making one's toilet with care, visiters should furnish themselves with cards, that is with small pieces of card or pasteboard, upon which their name is printed or well written. gentlemen ought simply to put their cards in their pocket, but ladies may carry them in a small elegant portfolio, called a _card case_. this they can hold in their hand, and it will contribute essentially (with an elegant handkerchief of embroidered battise,) to give them an air of good taste. we shall here make a digression in relation to cards. it was not considered impolite, formerly, to take the cards of a cast off pack, cut them crosswise into three parts, and write one's name upon them; this, however, is now a subject of ridicule, and is only seen in provincial towns, where they sometimes also substitute for these cards small pieces of thick paper. next to these cards come those made of thin pasteboard, smooth, gilt-edged, watered, and intended to have the name in writing. these are suitable for young gentlemen and young ladies; and they answer for half ceremonious visits. after these, come lithographic cards, then printed ones, and last those which are engraved. some cards are figured in a rich manner, presenting every degree of expensive elegance. every one will choose these according to his taste; but it is well to observe that cards ornamented with borders, and those of the color of the rose, and sky blue, are not suitable for men, nor for ladies of mature years, because they have an air of over-nicety. the title is usually placed under the name, and, in large cities, the address, at the bottom of the card and in smaller letters. mourning cards are surmounted with a black margin, half mourning ones are of a bright gray. it is bad _ton_ to keep the cards you have received around the frame of a looking glass; such an exposure shows that you wish to make a display of the names of distinguished visiters. at the beginning of a new year, or when from some cause or other which multiplies visiters at your house, (such as a funeral or a marriage,) you are obliged to return these numerous calls, it is not amiss to preserve the cards in a convenient place, and save yourself the trouble of writing a list; but if, during the year, your glass is always seen bristling with smoke-dried cards, it will be attributed without doubt, to an ill-regulated self-esteem. but let us return to our visiters. if the call is made in a carriage, the servant will ask if the lady you wish to see is at home. if persons call in a hired carriage, or on foot, they go themselves to ask the servants. servants are considered as soldiers on duty; if they reply that the person has gone out, we should by no means urge the point, even if we were certain it was not the case; and if by chance we should see the person, we should appear not to have noticed it, but leave our card and retire. when the servant informs us that the lady or gentleman is unwell, engaged in business, or dining, we must act in a similar manner. we should leave as many cards as there are persons we wish to see in the house; for example, one for the husband, another for his wife, another for the aunt, &c. when admitted, we should lay aside our over-shoes, umbrella, cloak, &c. in the ante-chamber, even ladies should lay aside their cloaks in the houses of distinguished persons. in the provincial towns they commonly keep them on. we then are announced by the servant, if it is the custom of the house, or at least we wait until (without announcing us,) he opens the door of the apartment. in case of the absence of the servants, you ought not to enter immediately, but knock gently with the finger, and wait until some one opens the door or bids you come in. if he does neither, you open the door slowly and softly: should you find no one, do not go about and open other doors, or pass into an inner room, but retrace your steps immediately, return to the ante-room, and remain until some one comes to give you an introduction. if you are obliged to stay very long, you can leave your card on a piece of furniture or with the porter. this is a case of rare occurrence; but it is well to provide for it, in order not to be taken unawares. when admitted, a gentleman presents himself with his hat in his hand, and advancing towards the lady, salutes her gracefully and respectfully. as soon as he observes the lady is looking for a seat to offer him, he must lose no time in providing one for himself (commonly a chair) this he places towards the door by which he entered, and at some distance from the lady, to whom he should leave the upper part of the room. he ought by no means to sit, except she is seated; and holding his hat upon his knee must not balance himself or sink down in his chair, but preserve an easy, polite and becoming attitude. it would be familiar and bad _ton_ to put down the hat or cane, before the gentleman, and particularly the lady of the house, has invited you to do it. even then it is proper to refuse, and not to do it until asked two or three times. in putting down the hat, we should not do it carelessly, nor ought we to place it on a couch, for this is impolite. the couch, which in ancient times was regarded as a sanctuary, ought neither to be touched nor approached by a man. it is best to put the hat on a bracket or chandelier stand, &c. the lady of a house does not attempt to take the hats of gentlemen, except she wishes to treat them with familiarity, and this is seldom done in calls of pure ceremony. these remarks will apply also to ladies. within fifteen years past it has been their custom to lay aside their hats and shawls; but that supposes an intimacy, which would authorize their abstaining from it at the houses of those with whom they are not much acquainted; and, if they are invited to lay them aside, they should refuse. the short time devoted to a ceremonious visit, the necessity of consulting a glass in replacing the head-dress, and of being assisted in putting on the shawl, prevent ladies from accepting the invitation to lay them aside. if they are slightly familiar with the person they are visiting, and wish to be more at ease, they should ask permission, which we should grant them, at the same time rising to assist them in taking off their hat and shawl. an arm-chair, or a piece of furniture at a distant part of the room should receive these articles; they should not be placed upon the couch, without the mistress of the house puts them there. at the house of a person we visit habitually, we can lay them aside without saying a word, and a lady can even adjust her hair and handkerchief, (ficher) before the glass, provided she occupies only a few moments in doing it. if the person you call upon is preparing to go out, or to sit down at table, you ought, although he asks you to remain, to retire as soon as possible. the person visited so unseasonably, should, on her part, be careful to conceal her knowledge that the other wishes the visit ended quickly. we should always appear delighted to receive a visiter, and should he make a short visit, we must express to him our regret. ceremonious visits should be short; if the conversation ceases without being again continued by the person you have come to see, if she gets up from her seat under any pretext whatever, custom requires you to make your salutation and withdraw. if, before this tacit invitation to retire, other visiters are announced, you should adroitly leave them without saying anything. in case the master of the house, in waiting upon you to the door, should ask you to remain longer, you should briefly reply to him, that an indispensable engagement calls you, and you must entreat him with earnestness not to detain you. you should terminate your visit by briskly shutting the door. if, on entering the room, you find strangers engaged in conversation, content yourself with the few words which the master or mistress of the house shall address to you; stop only a few moments, make a general salutation, and conduct yourself as in the preceding case. when you have happened to meet the strangers elsewhere, they may unite sometimes with the person you are visiting, to prevent your taking leave; reply in a polite and flattering manner, but still persist in retiring. if while you are present, a letter is brought to the person you are visiting, and she should lay it down without opening it, you must entreat her to read it; she will not do it, and this circumstance will warn you to shorten your visit. when you make a half ceremonious call, and the person you are visiting, insists upon your stopping, it is proper to do so, but after a few minutes you should rise to go: if you are urged still further, and are taken by the hands and made to sit down as it were by force, to leave immediately would be impolite, but nevertheless you must, after a short interval, get up a third time, and then certainly retire. if, during your call, a member of the family enters the room, you need not on this account take leave, but content yourself by rising, and saluting the person. if a lady, you must not seat yourself until she sits down; if a gentleman, you can yield to the invitation made you to take your seat, while the other remains standing. if you make a visit with others, there are some points to be observed in relation to your companions. in going up the staircase, it is rigorously the custom to give precedence to those to whom you owe respect, and to yield to such persons the most convenient part of the stairs, which is that next the wall. above all, do not forget this last caution if you accompany a lady; and a well-bred gentleman, at such a time, should offer his arm. when there are many persons, he should bestow this mark of respect on the oldest. if you meet any one on the staircase, place yourself on the side opposite to the one he occupies. it would be vexatious and out of place to make an everlasting ceremony as to who should be announced first; the preference must be given to ladies; next to them, to age and rank. the time of taking leave should be also determined by ladies, or by aged persons, and those who are of consequence. it would be impolite to wish to retire before they gave the signal. we should add, that it is unsuitable for more than three or four to visit together. persons of high ton are accompanied even to the ante-room by one or two servants, who receive them again when going out. to carry children or dogs with one on a visit of ceremony, is altogether vulgar and provincial. even in half-ceremonious visits, it is necessary to leave one's dog in the ante-room, as well as the nurse who holds the infant, for this circumstance alone excuses such a suite. as to animals, it is a thousand times better not to have them at all. we justly reproach inhabitants of the province for lavishing salutations in meeting people, or in taking leave of them. this custom, which may make us contract a reservedness or too much familiarity, is extremely ridiculous. is it not difficult to keep one's countenance, when we see a visiter salute every article of furniture, to turn and turn again twenty times as you conduct him, and pour forth at every pause a volley of salutations and adieus? our readers will beware of this over politeness; they will salute the first time, at the moment they take leave, and again, when the person who conducts them back shall have stopped at the door. we have before said that when we do not find persons at home, or when we are afraid of disturbing them, we leave a card; but this is not what we call particularly _visits by card_ (_visites par cartes_). in these last visits, it is not our object to see the persons, since we do not ask for them, and we confine ourselves to giving our card to the porter or domestic. this custom, which has been introduced necessarily among persons of very general acquaintance, and especially at times when every one ought to be visited, as on the new-year's day,--this custom so far is not ridiculous, but it becomes so by the great extent which has been given to it for some time past. this extent consists in making a visit without leaving our apartment; that is to say, merely by sending our card by a domestic, or indeed by means of an agency established for this purpose. the practice of visits by cards, seems to persons of good society the most impertinent and vulgar thing which can be imagined. do not then permit it, except when the question is about returning visits made in this way; and do not use such retaliations, except to prevent these ill-advised visiters from thinking that you put yourself out to oblige them. in works devoted to the instruction of the laws of propriety, we think only of fortune and affluence; we entirely forget people of a more modest condition, and when we find ourselves in connexion with them, we cry out against their impoliteness. it is an injustice, and in my opinion, a false calculation. an injustice, because true politeness pertains less to rank, than to uprightness and goodness of heart; a false calculation, for to refuse to initiate people into what renders the social relations easy and agreeable, is to prepare for ourselves collision and vexation, and to retard as much as is in our power, the practice of the forms of civilization. despising then this foolish disdain, we shall applaud the great care of persons not in affluence, who, having neither porter nor domestic, place at their door a slate furnished with a pencil, that in their absence visiters may write their names; for these visiters are seldom such as carry cards. we shall applaud the benevolent care of persons whose staircase is not lighted, or whose apartment is in the upper stories, and who leave with the porter a candle which every one who arrives, takes, in order to ascend, and returns it again on descending. if any of our rich readers should be tempted to smile at the announcement of these precautions of the more humble citizens, we would remind them that they are entirely strangers to the spirit of politeness, of which these precautions are a striking example. this digression naturally leads us to the second part of our task relative to visits, concerning the duties which politeness imposes as to receiving them, for it is not less important to receive people well, than to present ourselves well to them. before passing to this important subject, it would seem my duty to finish what remains for me to say concerning visits, by the mention of visits of audience, of congratulation, of condolence, and of repast; but except the first, to which i am going to devote a few words, details of all the others will be found in the chapters devoted to conversation, to formalities of repasts, of mourning, &c. we should not merely call upon ministers, heads of the public administration, and very distinguished persons; we must beforehand request of them by writing a place of meeting and must specify the object of our visit. we must call upon them at the appointed hour; we must abstain from inquiring after their health, and observe strictly the obligations of decorum. these visits, which are the acme of ceremony, ought necessarily to be very short. we shall see, in the chapter on _epistolary propriety_, what titles are proper to be given to these important personages. it is well to be furnished with a letter of admission, that in case of necessity we may show it to the servant. chapter iii. _of the manner of receiving visitors._ to receive visitors with ease and elegance, and in such a manner that everything in you, and about you, shall partake of propriety and grace, to endeavor that people may always be satisfied when they leave you, and desirous to come again,--such are the obligations of the master, and especially of the mistress of a house. everything in the house, ought, as far as possible, to offer english _comfort_, and french grace. perfect order, exquisite neatness and elegance which easily dispenses with being sumptuous, ought to mark the entrance of the house, the furniture and the dress of the lady. in a house where affluence abounds, it is indispensable to have a drawing-room, for it is troublesome and in bad _ton_ to receive visits in a lodging-room, at one's own dwelling. this may indeed do for a mere call; but it becomes almost ridiculous when, after dinner, it is necessary to pass into this room to take coffee, if you are receiving a small company, &c. this custom is not any longer adopted, except in the provincial towns and among persons who do not pride themselves on their good _ton_. to receive company in a dining-room, is not allowed except among those persons who cannot bear the expense of furnishing a parlor or drawing-room. simplicity, admitted into an apartment of this kind, suited to the smallness of their means, we cannot but approve, while we regret nevertheless, the disagreeable things to which such a residence subjects them. but we have, in this respect, an express warning to make to people who give themselves up to it unnecessarily, for it is altogether opposed to the received usages of good society to put yourselves in a situation which you cannot adorn, where you cannot place arm-chairs, a chimney-piece, a glass, a clock, and all things useful to persons who come to see you; where you are exposed to receiving twenty visits during dinner; of seeing as many interruptions during the setting of your table, since it is impossible to spread the cloth while strangers remain; finally, of making them witnesses of your domestic cares while removing the remains of a repast, the table-cloth, dishes, &c. young mothers of families who wish to have with them their children, (troublesome guests, in a drawing-room, as every one knows,) think that they may remain in the dining-room, and have strangers conducted into an adjacent apartment. that this may not be inconvenient, it is necessary to observe three things; first, that strangers be admitted into this apartment before seeing the mistress of the house, because they would not fail to create difficulties, by saying that they did not wish to disturb her; second, that the apartment be constantly warmed in winter; third, that in summer it should be furnished precisely as an occupied chamber, for nothing is worse than to conduct people into a room which seems to be to let. unless from absolute inability, you ought to light your staircase. if the practices of good domestic economy regulated by the cares of civilization, were more generally extended, a staircase not lighted would not often be found. after having thus cast a rapid glance into the interior of the house, let us see in what manner it is necessary to receive visitors. when we see any one enter, whether announced or not, we rise immediately, advance toward them, request them to sit down, avoiding however the old form of, '_take the trouble to be seated_.' if it is a young man, we offer him an arm-chair, or a stuffed one; if an elderly man, we insist upon his accepting the arm-chair; if a lady, we beg her to be seated upon the ottoman. if the master of the house receives the visitors, he will take a chair and place himself at a little distance from them; if, on the contrary, it is the mistress of the house, and if she is intimate with the lady who visits her, she will place herself near her. if several ladies come at a time, we give this last place to the one most distinguished by rank. in winter, the most honorable places are those at the corner of the fire-place; in proportion as they place you in front of the fire, your seat is considered inferior in rank. moreover, when it happens to be a respectable married lady, and one to whom we wish to do honor, we take her by the hand and conduct her to the corner of the fire-place. if this place is occupied by a young lady, she ought to rise and offer her seat to the other lady, taking for herself a chair in the middle of the circle. a mistress of a house ought to watch anxiously that they experience no restraint before her; consequently, she will take care to present screens to the ladies seated in front of the fire; she will move under their feet tabourets, or what is better, pads, (coussins) but never foot-stoves. if she is alone with an intimate acquaintance, she will request her to take hers, but she will never extend this politeness to a gentleman. if a door or window happens to be open in the room in summer time, we should ask of visitors, if it incommodes them. if a lady who receives a half ceremonious visit is sewing, she ought to leave off immediately, and not resume it except at the request of the visitor. if they are on quite intimate terms, she ought herself to request permission to continue. if a person visits in an entirely ceremonious way, it would be very impolite to work even an instant. moreover, even with friends, we should hardly be occupied with our work, but should seem to forget it on their account. in proportion as the visitor is a stranger, the master or mistress of the house rises, and any persons who may be already there are obliged to do the same. some of them then withdraw; in this case, if the master and the mistress of the house have with them any persons of their family, after having conducted as far as the door those who are going, they request one of their relations to take their place. if the case be otherwise, it is necessary to choose between the persons who remain and those who retire. if the latter are superior in rank, age or consideration, we must give them the preference, and _vice versa_. but however respectable the person be who departs, we may dispense with conducting them farther than the door of the room. the manner in which we should usually re-conduct visitors is regulated in an invariable manner. if it is a lady who is to be accompanied, the master of the house takes her hand, passes it under his arm, and thus leads her as far as the bottom of the staircase, unless the steps be so narrow that two cannot go abreast. it is no longer the custom to give the hand to ladies, but to offer them the arm. this new custom does not at all change the ancient rule of propriety which requires that in descending a staircase, we should give the side next the wall to the lady whom we accompany; we commonly present to her the right arm, provided however, that necessity does not oblige us, in order to avoid placing her next the balustrade, to offer the left. if she is to return in a carriage, we should politely hand her into it. in the provincial towns, they conduct all or almost all visitors, as far as the street door, unless they are gentlemen and have visited a lady. she ought then to accompany them, as is always done in paris, that is to say, as far as the door of the room, or the head of the stairs. parisians add to this custom an agreeable civility; they hold the door open, and standing upon the threshold or edge of the staircase, follow with their eyes the visitor until he turns round to make the last salutation or adieu, or to request the host to return. we no longer practice that frank and open hospitality of the provinces, by virtue of which, in the middle of winter, we request people to _refresh_ themselves with some solid eatables. such a proposal would now excite a smile. we do not make any such offer to visitors, but under these circumstances. first, during very hot weather, we invite them to take a glass of syrup, or of iced water. second, if any one is reading, we offer him _eau sucrée_, that is, the little household article to which we have given that name. third, we offer orange flower water to a lady who happens to be suddenly indisposed. excepting these cases, we make no offer of this kind. if any one wishes to refresh himself, he requests the mistress of the house to allow him to ring the bell. after assent is given, he asks of the domestic who comes, whatever he desires. chapter iv. _of the carriage of the body._ the carriage of the body seems so simple, so common, and so easy a thing, that undoubtedly on seeing this title, many readers will think i design to send them back to _puerile_ and _plain civility_. but if they will take the pains to reflect upon the numberless violations of propriety in the carriage of the body, of which they are daily witnesses; if they will call to the mind the many strange motions, ridiculous gestures, pretending attitudes, affected looks, and clownish movements; if they will recollect that the carriage of the body ought to be in perfect harmony with the situation, age, mind and sex, and a distinguishing trait of the physiognomy; if they will consider the unfavorable prejudices to which a disdainful, immodest, or vulgar deportment give rise, they will understand my anxiety in this respect. it is without doubt impossible to notice all faults in the carriage of the body. this volume would not be sufficient for it; we must be satisfied therefore with designating the principal ones. to look steadily at any one, especially if you are a lady and are speaking to a gentleman; to turn the head frequently on one side and the other during conversation; to balance yourself upon your chair; to bend forward; to strike your hands upon your knees; to hold one of your knees between your hands locked together; to cross your legs; to extend your feet on the andirons; to admire yourself with complacency in a glass; to adjust in an affected manner your cravat, hair, dress, handkerchief; to remain without gloves; to fold carefully your shawl, instead of throwing it with graceful negligence upon a table, &c.; to fret about a hat which you have just left off; to laugh immoderately; to place your hand upon the person with whom you are conversing; to take him by the buttons, the collar of his coat, the cuffs, the waist, &c.; to seize ladies by the waist, or to touch their person; to roll the eyes, or to raise them with affectation; to take snuff from the box of your neighbor, or to offer it to strangers, especially to ladies; to play continually with the seals of your watch, a chain, or a fan; to beat time with the feet and hands; to whirl round a chair on one leg; to shake with your feet the chair of your neighbor; to stroke your face; rub your hands continually; wink your eyes; shrug up your shoulders; stamp with your feet, &c.;--all these bad habits, of which we ought never to speak to people, among those who are witnesses of them, and are in the highest degree displeasing. the carriage of the body is as expressive as the tone of voice, and perhaps more so, because it is more constant; it betrays to the observer all the shades of character, and we ought to be very careful of thus making a general confession, by affected manners, a pretending deportment, sneering ways, rough movements, a hard countenance, impertinent signs and looks, simpering smiles, clownish gestures, a nonchalant and effeminate posture, or a carriage of the body distinguished by prudery and stiffness. young ladies, and very young men little habituated to the world, ought to be on their guard against excessive timidity, for it not only paralyzes their powers, renders them awkward, and gives them an almost silly air, but it may even cause them to be accused of pride, among people who do not know that embarrassment frequently takes the form of superciliousness. how often does it happen that timid persons do not salute you at all, answer in a low voice, or very ill, omit a thousand little duties of society, and fail in a numberless agreeable attentions, for want of courage? these attentions, and these duties, they discharge in _petto_, but who will thank them for it? a proper degree of confidence, but not degenerating into assurance, still less into boldness or familiarity, is then one of the most desirable qualities in the world. to obtain which, we most observe the _ton_, and the manners of polite and benevolent people, take them for our guides, and, under their direction, make continual efforts to conquer our timidity. propriety in the carriage of the body is especially indispensable to ladies. it is by this that, in a walk, a ball, or any assembly, people who cannot converse with them, judge of their merit and their good education. how many dancers move off, and how many persons sigh with pity, at the sight of a beautiful woman who has a mincing way, affects grace, inclines her head affectedly, and who seems to admire herself incessantly, and to invite others to admire her also. who ever makes up his mind to enter into conversation with an immovable lady, and one who is formal and precise, lengthening out the body, pressing the lips, and carrying back the elbows as if they were fastened to her side? the gait of a lady ought neither to be too quick nor too slow; the most easy and most convenient step is that which fatigues the least and pleases most. the body and the head should be erect without affectation and without haughtiness; the movements, especially those of the arms, easy and natural. the countenance should be pleasant and modest. it is not in good _ton_ for a lady to speak too quick or too loud. when seated, she ought neither to cross her legs, nor take a vulgar attitude. she should occupy her chair entirely, and appear neither too restless, nor too immovable. it is altogether out of place for her to throw her drapery around her in sitting down, or to spread out her dress for display, as upstarts do in order to avoid the least rumple. but what is especially insupportable in this sex is, an inquiet, bold, and imperious air; for it is unnatural, and not allowable in any case. if a lady has cares, let her conceal them from the world, or not go into it. whatever be her merit, let her not forget that she may be a man by the superiority of her mind and decision of character, but that externally she ought to be a woman! she ought to present herself as a being made to please, to love, and to seek a support; a being inferior to man, and near to angels. an affectionate, complying, and almost timid aspect, a tender solicitude for those who are about her, should be shown in her whole person. her face should breathe hope, gentleness and satisfaction; dejection, anxiety, and ill-humor should be constantly banished. before leaving a subject so fruitful, i shall point out to my readers two examples of a bad position. the one is a _fashionable_ with his head stiff, a borrowed air, his leg strained out, trembling lest he should disarrange the symmetry of his cravat, and lest he should pucker his pantaloons, his sleeve or the collar of his coat. the other is an awkward person, with his feet drawn together and placed upon the round of the chair, his hands spread out upon his knees, his shoulders sunk, and his mouth half open. between these two caricatures there are many degrees which are ridiculous, but which we leave to the sagacity of our readers to appreciate. we come now to our instructions in respect to conversation. they are so important, that we think it our duty to divide them into two parts, namely; physical proprieties, and moral proprieties. chapter v. _of physical proprieties in conversation._ this first division will comprehend the physical care of the organs we use in conversation, our movements, the manner of listening, pronunciation, and purity of speech in a grammatical view. section i. _physical observances in conversation._ conversation is the principal, not to say the only means of pleasing, and making our way in the world. how does it happen then, that so many persons converse, without being troubled at the ridicule thrown upon themselves, and the _ennui_ they occasion their hearers; without going into the inquiry, whether they have not some physical qualities which present more or less obstacles to the art of conversing well, or without thinking of the means of correcting them! we shall point out some faults and the means of remedying them. it is essential in speaking, to be well on our guard not to protrude the tongue too near the edge of the lips. this bad habit has many great inconveniences: it occasions a kind of disagreeable hissing, produced by the immediate contact of this organ as it passes the teeth; and exposes us to throw out saliva.[ ] when an unfortunate habit or too great a development of the tongue produces these accidents, we should take care to keep this unlucky organ out of the way on one side of the gums or the other. as to the fault which is opposite to this, that is, stammering, by reason of too small size of the tongue, we should practice when we are alone speaking distinctly. to declaim and to exercise ourselves upon the words which present the greatest difficulties, is a useful exercise. there are some persons in whom the saliva is so abundant, that it makes their pronunciation thick; such persons should accustom themselves to swallow it before beginning to speak. politeness in accordance with health, requires that our teeth should be perfectly clean. a yellow and foul set of teeth, which emit an odor, will not suffer any one to be sensible to our grace or the eloquence of our language. feelings of disgust are without appeal. some persons who have fine teeth, have the lamentable fault of showing them in speaking; this ridiculous vanity excites laughter, and besides, injures the physiognomy: it is not necessary to conceal the teeth to the utmost, but always without affectation. to use a tooth-pick while speaking, to carry the fingers to the gums, to hold a flower between the teeth, are habits of bad _ton_. to open the mouth widely when one speaks, especially when making an exclamation of wonder or surprise; to draw the mouth on one side to give ourselves the air of an original; to contract it, in order to make it small; to laugh violently in an unmeaning and boisterous manner; to impart to the lips, trembling and convulsive motions when any one relates or reads something sad or terrible; to force our breath into the face of the person we are conversing with--all these are shocking faults, and insupportable grimaces. [ ] when this accident happens to any one, you must appear not to perceive it. section ii. _of gestures._ to act a pantomine with every word, cannot be tolerated; extended or numerous gestures, which do not accord with the conversation; mysterious signs accompanying the announcement of the most simple thing; abrupt gestures, in friendly conversation; mincing gestures, in serious conversation; rapid movements of the person, sitting or standing, and who seems to be performing a sort of a dance--all these are equally great faults against propriety and good taste. we should not absolutely condemn gestures, which, according to the abbé delille, give physiognomy to our conversation. moderate action corresponding to our words, and by turns a little comic, lively, and graceful, are allowable, and even indispensable. the left hand must not move, but a significant and exact co-operation of the right hand, should never be wanting in conversation: but i must censure dialogists, who put their hand into their pockets or work-bags, who always rest them joined or crossed, without making any gesture. such persons give themselves the air of automatons, while, on the other hand, excessive gesticulators, have the appearance of madmen. those persons who in conversing, violently seize hold of the arm of their chair; play with little objects which come under their hands; who amuse themselves by scratching or defacing furniture, turning their hat backwards and forwards, twisting and untwisting the strings of their bag, or the ends of their cravat, are, without doubt, ignorant how much opposed to politeness, are these degrees of familiarity, childishness and embarrassment. i will briefly add, that those who are witnesses of all these ridiculous actions, ought never to notice them, unless they wish to be still more ridiculous themselves. section iii. _of the talent of listening to others._ to converse, is not to talk continually, as prattlers suppose; it is to listen and speak in our turn; we must not acquit ourselves the less well in the one than in the other. to do this, we should attend half of the time to the person who is addressing us, (on this account it is impolite to do any work while talking;) if they hesitate or are embarrassed, you should appear not to notice it, and in case you are a little acquainted, after a few moments, you should, in a very modest manner, supply the word which seems to have escaped them. if they are interrupted by any incident, when the cause of the interruption shall have ceased, you will not wait until they resume the conversation, but with a smile of benevolence, and an engaging gesture, request them to proceed; _please to continue; you were just saying?_--if we are obliged in this manner, to palliate any such interruption, much more, ought we never to allow ourselves to be the cause of it. this is so rigorous a rule, that if, in the warmth of conversation, two persons commence speaking at once, both ought to stop immediately, when they perceive it, and each, while excusing themselves, to decline proceeding. it is proper for the one worthy of the most respect to resume the conversation. if a person shall relate anything to you, who, without having any pleasantry, makes attempts at it; and without being affecting, endeavors to move you, however wearied you may be, appear pleased and assume an air of interest. if the narrator wanders into long digressions, have patience to let him extricate himself alone from the labyrinth of his story. if the history is interminable, be resigned, and do not appear less attentive. this condescension is especially to be observed, if you are listening to an elderly or respectable person. if the merciless story-teller is your equal or friend, you may say to him, in order to induce him to finish his narration, _and finally_-- novices in the customs of the world, think they can abruptly interrupt a conversation which is begun, by asking to have some incidents, which they have not understood, explained, or by making the person who is telling the story repeat the names; this should not be done until after some consideration, and in the most polite manner. if the narrator pronounces badly; if you see that other hearers are in the same situation as yourself; if you foresee that for want of having followed him in his narration, you will not be able to reply with politeness, you can in this case, interrupt; but in some such manner as this; _i ask your pardon, sir, i fear i have lost some part of your interesting conversation, will you be kind enough to repeat it_, &c. it is necessary also, to choose a favorable moment, as for instance, when the narrator pauses, hesitates for a word, or stops to take his handkerchief. when a person relates to you a plain falsehood, the art of listening becomes embarrassing, for if you seem to believe it, you would pass for a fool, and if you appear to doubt it, you will pass for an uncivil person. an air of coldness, a slight attention, an expression like the following, _that is astonishing_, will extricate you honorably from your embarrassment; but when an event is narrated which is only extraordinary, or not improbable, your manner should be otherwise. your countenance should express astonishment, and you should reply by a phrase of this kind; _if i did not know your strict regard for the truth, or if any person but you had told me this, i should have hardly believed it._ under no circumstances should you interrupt him. it happens sometimes that you foresee some incident in an interesting story; and the pleasure that you find in this; the desire of showing that you have guessed correctly, and the intention of proving how much you are interested, induce you to interrupt suddenly in this manner, _i see it, it is so, exactly_. an interruption of this kind, although well meant and natural, will offend old persons, who like to tell a story at full length, and will confound formal narrators, who will be in despair that a phrase is taken from them which they had intended for effect; these interruptions are only allowable among our intimate friends, or inferiors, for otherwise you will have an ill-humored answer to your _i see it_, &c. as with a triumphant air, _egad, but you can't see it_, &c. which is always embarrassing. the worst kind of interruption of all others, is that which hauteur dictates. a clever person seizing hold of a story which another is telling, and with the intention of making it more lively, becomes, notwithstanding his eloquence, a model of impertinence and vulgarity. it is, doubtless, hard to see a fool spoil a good anecdote, of which he might have made something interesting; but if we should not be restrained by politeness from expressing our feelings, we ought to be by interest. now hearers of delicacy will remain silent to the conclusion of the recital, and will address themselves with good feelings to the poor narrator who is injured in his rights. interruption is pardonable if it is made to prove or clear up a fact in favor of a person who is absent. when they accuse you, you can, according to strict rules, interrupt by an exclamation, but it is better to do it by a gesture. there is often much art and grace in listening, while you gesticulate gently; for example, by counting upon the fingers; by making a gesture of surprise; by a motion of assent, or an exclamation. this is a tacit manner of saying, _ah, i recollect, you are right_, and charms the narrator without interrupting him. in a lively, animated and friendly dialogue, we can interrupt each other by turns, in order to finish a sentence which is begun, or to improve an epithet; this contributes to vivacity in discourse, but it ought not, however, to be too often repeated. there are many shoals to be avoided in listening, and which always betray inexperience in society. to say from time to time to the narrator, _yes, yes_, by nodding the head, making motions with the hand, a custom of old persons, and which is a good representation of a pendulum; to keep the eyes fixed and the mouth gaping open; to have an air of an absent person or of one in a reverie; to point the finger at persons designated by the narrator; to gape without concealing by the hand or the handkerchief, which is by no means flattering to the speaker; to cast your eye frequently towards the clock--all these habits are offences against good _ton_. section iv. _of pronunciation._ pronunciation is still more indispensable in conversation than elocution; for indeed before selecting our expressions, we must make them understood, and one can do this but imperfectly if he pronounces badly. from this fault arise forced repetitions, the loss of what is appropriate, fatigue, disgust, the impatience of the two persons speaking, and in fine, all the sad results of deafness. should we not use every effort to rid ourselves of this? the first, the greatest impediment to pronouncing well, is volubility. by speaking too fast, we speak confusedly, and utter inarticulate and unintelligible sounds, and this, without dispute, is of all the faults in pronunciation, the most insupportable. we know very well, that to speak too slowly, and as they say, to listen to our own words, is a caprice which seems to denote pride or nonchalance; and that in certain cases it is necessary to speak quickly; but we ought never to speak precipitately, even on subjects which require us to be brief. besides the physical inconvenience, indistinctness has other moral inconveniences: it supposes heedlessness, loquacity, or foolishness. next comes hesitancy, which is little less troublesome, for it fills the conversation with ridiculous and painful efforts. this defect which is sometimes owing to the organization, happens still more frequently from neglecting to think before we speak, from timidity, from some lively emotion which obliges us to stammer, or from a formal anxiety to make use of select terms. this last motive is almost an excess. with the intention of pleasing persons, you weary them by repetitions, by far-fetched mincing words, and in order to appear clever, you render yourself excessively annoying. the habits acquired in childhood and in small towns, and a provincial accent, are frequently obstacles to good pronunciation; let us instance some examples of this. it is not uncommon to hear, even among those who are considered as correct speakers, in general, such a misuse of words as the following: _me_ for _i_, _miss_ for _mrs._, _set_ for _sit_, _sat out_ for _set out_, _expect_, (of a passed event;) _lay_ for _lie_, _shew_ for _showed_, _would_ for _should_, _hadn't ought_ for _ought not_, &c. as to accent, each province has its peculiarities. to discover it, to shun it, and to modify it by an opposite effort, are the means of avoiding these shoals; but however ridiculous we may appear in running upon them continually, we are a hundred times less so than those people who, like true pedagogues, stop you in the midst of an affecting recital, to repeat with a sardonic smile, a vulgar phrase, a word badly pronounced, or a wrong accent which happens to escape you. not only among persons of good society, should we condemn pedantry in pronunciation, but we ought, moreover, with rousseau, to blame over-nicety of pronunciation or _purism_. he could not tolerate (and many others like him,) those people so particular in sounding every letter of a word.[ ] besides a general accent, there is also a particular accent, which gives a shade to the words, when we express a sentiment. we feel all its delicacy and its charm, but we feel also that it ought to be in perfect harmony with the language; that it ought to be free from all affectation, and all exaggeration. to utter hard things in a tone of mildness; to display in a humble voice proud pretensions; to open a political discussion in a caressing tone; to recount an affair of pleasantry with a melancholy accent,--is ridiculous in the highest degree. it is no less so, to force the accent, to pervert it into irony; or to introduce into discourse, a sort of declamation or tone. we cannot judge by the accent of a person who speaks too high or too low, but we decide, in the first case, that he is vulgar, and in the second, that he is disdainful. [ ] the examples in the original, are the final letters of the words, _tabac_, _sang_, _estomac_. in english, some persons are as scrupulous in the distinct pronunciation of every letter in such words as _extra-ordinary_, _wed-nes-day_, &c.--_t._ section v. _of correctness in speaking._ _'surtout qu'en vos discours la langue révérée.'_ in addressing this advice to readers, we shall beware of considering them as strangers to the rules of grammar; it is so shameful at the present day to be ignorant of one's own language, that it would not be less so, to suspect others of not knowing it; but although we may not be deprived of this indispensable knowledge, it is still necessary carefully to beware of contracting bad habits in language; of using bad phrases, and even of using terms of which we know not the import; a little study and attention will afford a certain remedy to the embarrassment which we might experience. young people cannot too much guard against these faults, which show an education that has been little attended to. they will arrive at it by studying a good grammarian, and by paying attention to the sense of their words. if, in the silence of the study, we have much trouble in rendering correctly a long sentence, how must it be in the world, when the earnestness of conversation prevents us from reflecting? to make long phrases, is to be willing to make mistakes in language; and if we take time to present these interminable sentences in a correct form, we only appear the more clumsy, or the more pretending, for conversation ought never to seem labored, and the expression and the thoughts ought to be of a simultaneous casting. avoid the pronouns _who_, _which_, particularly when they are interrogatives; for although the grammar does not absolutely condemn their frequency, yet as it is useless and disagreeable to the ear, we should endeavor to avoid it. thus, instead of _who is it who did such a thing?_--_what is this thing that is here?_ say, _who did such a thing?_--_what is this thing?_ persons who are careful of their conversation, avoid, as faults of language, expressions which certainly do not deserve this title, but which injure the clearness, elegance, and harmony of conversation. thus they will abstain from uniting those words which, being in conflict as to their meaning and pronunciation, make an ambiguity, except when written. they carefully beware of accumulating synonymes and epithets profusely, or at least, of forgetting with regard to these last, the laws of gradation; of multiplying adverbs, which burden and weaken discourse; they pay great attention to the requirements of euphony, and, in order to this, avoid bringing near to each other, words of similar sound, and of repeating similar words even of the same meaning, such as _at present we offer a present_, _it does a good deal of good_. these scrupulous and privileged talkers are particularly careful of the connecting particles, for they know how much their omission injures euphony; how it causes persons who are little charitable, to believe that it is a covering, under which are adroitly concealed doubt or ignorance, and this opinion is not always a prejudice. i had forgotten to say that our skilful talkers endeavor not to furnish, by fortuitous coincidences of words, opportunities for puns; that in the mode of their conversation, they avoid rhymes so unfortunate and even ridiculous in prose; that they dread repetitions of phrases, and axioms, as the repetitions of words; that by short and judicious pauses, they mark the punctuation in the spoken as in the written language; finally, that they endeavor to render their conversation clear, correct and elegant; but these talking-models would be in less danger of defeating their object, if they had less of the precise air of a pedagogue. so far from this, if a grammatical error escapes them, they quickly correct it, but with ease and gaiety. if they hear a gross grammatical error, they do not allow themselves even a smile, or a look which could indicate their feeling, or trouble the one guilty of the error. chapter vi. _of the moral observances in conversation._ _goodness, moderation and decorum_--these are the motto and the soul of moral propriety in conversation. a solicitude to be always agreeable and obliging; of observing a proper medium in everything; of respecting the rights of others, even in the most trifling things; susceptibility for every thing which is connected with delicacy, piety, and modesty--all these qualities which belong to politeness, are included in these expressive words; _goodness_, _moderation_, _decorum_. section i. _of formal and vulgar usages._ in the first rank of customary formalities, we place those concerning information about the health. we shall, necessarily, have little to say on this head; there are, however, some little rules which are not to be neglected. it is proper to vary the phraseology of these formal questions, as much as possible; and we must abstain from them entirely, towards a superior, or a person with whom we are but little acquainted, for such inquiries presuppose some degree of intimacy. in the last case, there is a method of manifesting our interest, without violating etiquette; it consists in making these inquiries of the domestics, or of other persons of the house, and of saying afterwards when introduced; 'i am happy sir, to hear that you are in good health.' custom forbids a lady to make these inquiries of a gentleman, unless he is ill or very aged. to put a corrective upon this mark of regard, a lady who addresses a gentleman, should be earnest in her inquiries of the health of his family, however little intimacy she may have with them. many persons ask this question mechanically, without waiting for the answer, or else hasten to reply, before they have received it. this is in bad _ton_. inquiries about the health, it is true, are frequently unimportant, but they should appear to be dictated by attention and kindness. we must not however be deceived, but be careful not to mention a slight indisposition to persons who are strangers to us, because their interest can be only formal. after we are informed of the health of the person we are visiting, it is proper to inquire of them in relation to the health of their families; but it would be wearisome to them, to make a long enumeration of the members who compose the family. we can put a general question, designating the most important members. in case of the absence of near relations, we ask the person we are visiting, if they have heard from them lately, if the news is favorable. they, on their part, ask the same of us. when you are not on visits of great ceremony, at the time of taking leave, you are commonly desired to give the compliments and salutations of the persons you are visiting to those with whom you live, then you should reply briefly, but give them assurances of your regard, and thank them. politeness infuses into visits of some little ceremony, a coloring of modesty, grace, and deference, which should be preserved with the greatest care. in speaking, it is always proper to give the name of _sir_, _madam_, or _miss_, and if the sentence is somewhat long, the title ought to be repeated. if the question is with regard to answering in the affirmative or negative, we ought never to say roughly _yes_ or _no_. if the person addressed has a title, or that which he has from his profession, we should give it him, as _count_, _doctor_, &c. in case we meet with many persons of the same profession, we can then distinguish them, adding their name to the title. a lady will not say, my husband, except among intimates; in every other case, she should address him by his name, calling him _mr._ it is equally good _ton_ that except on occasions of ceremony, and while she is quite young, to designate him by his christian name. but when one speaks to a gentleman of the lady to whom he is married, he should not say _your wife_, unless he is intimately acquainted, but _mrs. such-a-one_, is the most proper. the rules of politeness in this respect, are the same in speaking of the husband. when we speak of ourself and another person, whether he is absent or present, propriety requires us to mention ourselves last. thus we should say _he and i_, _you and i_. when you relate a personal occurrence, the circumstances connected with which are honorable to yourself, and a distinguished person had also a share in the honor, you should only mention him, and instead of the plural form, _we resolved_, _we did such a thing_, you should forget yourself, and say, _mr. n. resolved, or did such a thing so and so_. delicacy will dictate this degree of modesty to you, and your superior in his turn will proclaim at his own expense, your merit on the occasion. we know that the word _false_ is not to be found in the dictionary of politeness, and that when we are obliged to deny the assertion of any one, we employ apologetical forms. the most proper ones are such as the following: _i may be mistaken_, _i am undoubtedly mistaken, but,..._ _be so good as to excuse my mistake, but it seems to me,..._ _i ask pardon, but i thought_, &c. those persons are but ill-bred, who think to soften down a denial merely by expressions of doubt. they say, _if what you advance is true_, _if what madam says is positive_, &c. with these forms, they think they comply with the rules of politeness. it is incivility with affectation. however persons may say invidiously that forms avail much in the world, i agree with them, but in quite another sense. we should never ask a thing of any one without saying, _will you have the goodness_, _will you do me the favor_, _will you be so good_, &c. in a circle, we should not pass before a lady; and should never present any thing by extending the arm over her, but we pass round behind, and present it. in case we cannot do it, we say, _i ask your pardon_, &c. to a question which we do not fully comprehend, we never answer, _ha? what?_ but, _be so good as_, &c. _pardon me, i did not understand._ never refuse with disdain a pinch of snuff, and rather than disoblige people, take one, even if you throw it away, after having pretended to take it. beware of presenting to ladies, in balls or assemblies, a box of _sweet things_, under penalty of having the air of a caricature. if you strike against any one in the least, ask pardon for it immediately. the other should at the same time answer you, _it is nothing, nothing at all_, &c., even if the blow should have been violent. it is customary to employ the few moments of a visit of mere politeness, in looking at the portraits which adorn the fireplace, and even taking them down, if you are invited to do it. it would be the extreme of impoliteness, to say that they were flattered, or to pretend to recognize in the portrait of a young lady, the likeness of an elderly lady, or of one less favored by nature. it would moreover be improper to make long compliments; indirect, and ingenious praise, is all that is proper. section ii. _of questions, and frequently recurring expressions._ it is an axiom of propriety that we should never speak of ourselves, (except to intimate friends) and that we should converse with strangers about themselves, and everything which can interest them. questions are therefore necessary, but they demand infinite delicacy and tact, in order neither to fatigue nor ever wound the feelings. if, instead of expressing a mild and heartfelt interest, you ask a dry question dictated by a cold curiosity; if you seem to pay no attention to the answers which you call forth; if you mal-adroitly take a commanding tone; if you prolong without bounds this kind of conversation; if, perceiving that you are embarrassed, and that you endeavor to save yourself by an evasive answer, instead of keeping silence, you witness the foolish regrets of your indiscretion; be assured that both your questions and yourself will be considered as a torment. madame necker ingeniously observes that these favorite and frequently repeated terms with which we fill our conversation, serve, ordinarily as a mark of people's character. 'thus,' says she, 'those who exceed the truth are in the habit of saying, _you may rely upon it, it is the truth_; long talkers say, _in a word, to be brief_; and the proud say, _without boasting_,' &c. this striking observation is well founded, and consequently we ought to take good care not to let people into the secret of our peculiarities. but, independently of this motive, it is necessary for us carefully to avoid frequently recurring words, as in time, habit multiplies them to an inconceivable degree. they embarrass and overwhelm our conversation, turn away the attention of those who listen to us, and render us importunate, and ridiculous, without our being able to perceive it. if habitual terms, which on no other account are reprehensible, can become so troublesome, what results may these trite phrases, trivial expressions, and vulgar transitions produce, when they become frequent! section iii. _of narrations, analysis, and digressions._ there are many conditions indispensable to the success of a narrative. these conditions are, first, novelty; the best stories weary when they are multiplied too much, because every one wishes to be an actor in his turn upon the stage of the world. so that, when you have anything excellent to relate, consult less your own desire to tell it, than the wishes of others to hear you. there are but too many people who discover the secret of wearying while telling very good things, on account of their too great eagerness to tell them. the next thing is to take a suitable opportunity. let your narration spring naturally from the conversation; let it explain a fact, or come in support of an opinion, but let it never appear to be introduced by the foolish pleasure of talking, or by a not less foolish desire of making a display of talent. remember that the most meagre recitals, when they are àpropos, frequently please more than the best things in the world, when they are said out of time. and even endeavoring to monopolize the conversation is in bad _ton_, particularly for young persons and ladies, especially if it is but a few moments since they occupied the attention of the company. it is an agreeable and modest mark of propriety to request some one to relate an anecdote of the day, of which you have made mention, and the circumstances of which you desire to know. this is well suited to persons of distinguished talents. the person called upon, bows and excuses himself with a few words before acceding to your request. it is of all importance that the language correspond to the different forms which the narration requires; that, under pretext of adorning our story, we do not wander into far-fetched comparisons, dull details, or interminable dialogues; that if we relate anything amusing or striking, we should observe the utmost seriousness, and finally, before commencing a recital of this kind, we keep in mind these lines of lafontaine; il ne faut jamais dire aux gens, ecoutez un bon mot, oyez une merveille, savez-vous si les écoutans en feront une estime à la vôtre pareille? when, for want of observing this, as well as many other similar rules, narrators fail of the expected effect, and think to be able to tell it over again, and remarking on the comic part of the story, and laboring to repeat it thus;--_do you not think this excellent, wonderful?_ alas! they only add to their own defeat, and to the ennui of their poor hearers. if one relates an anecdote which you already know, permit him to finish it, and do not in any way draw off the attention of those who are listening. if your opinion is asked, give it frankly, and without wishing to appear better informed than the narrator himself. still farther; if you happen to be in tête-à-tête with the same narrator, observe the same silence, and listen with an air of interest, and if he happens to impart to you what he related the preceding day, which he had from you yourself, you should appear to listen with equal interest, as if for the first time. frequently, in the midst of a recital, the narrator, through forgetfulness, hesitates, and thinks that he can recall it. look at him attentively. if he is in doubt, declare that you are altogether ignorant of the subject in question. if his memory returns, request him to continue, at the same time saying; _i listen to you always with new pleasure_. this delicate politeness is particularly to be observed towards old persons. when your narrations have had success, keep a modest countenance; leave others to point out the striking parts which have pleased them. the surest means of not having the approbation of others, in actions as well as other things, is to solicit it, whether it be by looks, or by words. as every hearer is obliged to listen or understand without objecting, the consequence is, that we should _feel our ground_ before speaking, and ask if such or such a thing is known to the company. when a story has been published in the newspapers, so that it is not entirely new, or seems borrowed from a compilation of _anas_, if we attribute it to some person of our acquaintance, (of course one that is absent,) an ineffable ridicule very properly stigmatizes the narrator. we come now to what seems to me the most difficult part of conversation, and if you are not sure of being able to class your ideas with regularity, to express them with much clearness, and an easy elegance, do not have the temerity to wish to analyze a book, or a dramatic piece. you would be laying up for yourself a rude mortification, which would have an unfavorable influence on your _entrée_ into society. you would be wrong, however, in concluding, that i condemn you to perpetual silence; i only wish to inspire you with a salutary diffidence, in order to preserve you from such a rude check, and to put it in your power some future day to answer, in this particular, the wishes of a distinguished and brilliant assembly. begin by putting down upon paper a hasty sketch of a short piece, as for instance a _vaudeville_, or a little comedy. you will do this until, being sure of the manner in which you would embrace the _ensemble_, and dispose of the details, you can produce it without embarrassment. when arrived at this point, abstain from these kinds of analysis, which though indeed more correct, seem labored. they have besides less freedom, appropriateness, and grace. know this, and remember it well, that every other preparation than thinking what you are about to say, will make you acquire two intolerable faults, affectation and stiffness. to conclude, i give this advice only to those persons who, by a quick and penetrating perception, by a love of the fine arts, and by a peculiar readiness, find themselves able to speak properly of literary productions. those who are less engaged in these things, should content themselves with simply and briefly explaining a subject, and of mentioning the emotion they felt; with speaking of some brilliant passage, and adding that they do not pretend to pronounce judgment. the first degree of digression is the parenthesis; provided it is short, natural, and seldom repeated; and that you take care to announce it always; and finally, in order not to abuse it, you should make a skilful use of it. the second degree of digression becomes more nice, for it includes those accessory reflections, those common but agreeable and well-settled expressions; those general or particular allusions, which are only to be used with a peculiar emphasis, which is to language what the italic character is to printing. this method of speaking in italics may be striking and artless; but it often becomes obscure and trivial; the habit is dangerous, and one should use this difficult digression only before intimate friends. we now come to the third degree, to what is properly called digression; most frequently it is involuntary. often in a lively and animated dialogue, the impetus of conversation carries you, as well as the person with whom you are conversing, far from the point from which you started. if it is a question of pleasure or interest, return to your point by employing a polite turn, as, _pray let us not lose sight of our business_. but if it is an affair of nothings succeeding nothings, let it flow on. voluntary digression, when it is not a mere work of loquacity, may be employed in serious discourse, as political, philosophical, or moral discussions; but it is important to treat it with infinite reserve, and care, and never to introduce a personal apology, or a domestic incident, altogether out of place, as those persons do, who, in narrating any event relative to an individual, recount his life, their connexion with him, or his whole family, and make the event of an hour remind us of ages. lawyers, literary people, military men, travellers, invalids and aged ladies, ought to have a prudent and continual distrust of the abuse of digressions. section iv. _of suppositions and comparisons._ the two shoals to be avoided in this form of language are directly opposed to each other; the one is triviality, the other bombast. the object of supposition, which is already antiquated, and sometimes too simple, is to increase the force of reasoning, and to carry conviction to the mind of the person who listens to you; comparison tends to make an image, or to place before us the object described. when both these qualities are regulated by reason, use, and taste, it is very well; but how seldom is this the case! they are not so used, if, in the course of a discussion, you suppose a respectable person to supply the place of a madman, an ill-bred person, or a robber; or, if you suppose him to be in a situation disgraceful or even ridiculous. as, for example; _if you had been this bad person_; or, _suppose, that you had committed this base act_; or, _that you should be laughed at_, &c. they are also misplaced, whenever, being satisfied with avoiding disagreeable comparisons, we endeavor to mark out some one as contemptible, by comparing his exterior with that of some other person in the company. when we say; _this unfortunate man is of your size, sir; he has your traits, your physiognomy_, &c. they are also misplaced, if used in the presence of people of a profession upon which the injurious comparisons fall, as when we say; _as quackish as a doctor_; _greedy as an attorney_; _loquacious as a lawyer_, &c. finally, politeness and taste cannot at all exist in comparisons, if they are common or trivial, as when we say, _black as the chimney-back_, _high as one's hand_, &c.; or, if they are in a turgid and pretending style, such as, _learned as the muses_, _fresh as the meadows_, &c. section v. _of discussions and quotations._ whatever be the subject of conversation, propose your opinion with modesty; defend it with sangfroid and a mild tone if you are opposed; yield with a good grace if you are wrong; yield also, although you are in the right, if the subject of discussion is of little importance, and especially if the one who opposes you is a lady, or an old person. moreover, if love of truth or the desire of affording instruction force you to enter into a discussion, do it with address and politeness. if you do not bring over your opponent to your own opinion, you will at least gain his esteem. but if you have to do with one of those people who, possessed with a mania of discussion, commence by contradicting before they hear, and who are always ready to sustain the contrary opinion, yield to him; you will have nothing to gain with him. be assured that the spirit of contradiction can be conquered only by silence. the insupportable pedantry of a cloud of quoters, without tact or talent, has justly, for a long time, thrown quotations into disrepute; but if they are well chosen, few, and short; if they are à-propos, qui fuit comme le temps, qui plaît comme les grâces; if they are altogether new, and wielded by a person possessed of modesty, elegance, and taste, having a perfect knowledge of the world, quotations have much success and charm; but without these conditions, there is little safety; and in this matter there can be no mediocrity; you will either be a good model, or an insupportable pedant. consider if you will rashly run this chance, especially on making your début in society, when young persons ought so carefully to avoid making a parade of a vain college erudition, and not seek the reputation of a savant by employing words borrowed from foreign languages, or scientific terms unknown in good society. section vi. _of pleasantry, proverbs, puns, and bon mots._ if society is not a school for exercising pedantry, neither is it an arena for the use of those perversely clever people, who think themselves furnished with a patent to insult with grace. whatever may be the keenness of their sarcasms, the piquancy of their observations, or the smile which they excite in me, i do not the less refuse to allow to those caustic spirits the name of polite persons, or of good _ton_; for, in politeness there must be good feeling. but those who incessantly study to trouble and wound people, without taking any precaution except to deprive them of the right or means of complaining; who are ready to catch at the least error, to exaggerate it, to clothe it in the most bitter language, to present it in the most ridiculous light; who meanly attack those who cannot answer them, or expose themselves every day for a sarcasm to sport with their own life and that of another in a duel--such people, what are they?--in truth, i dare not say. one such picture, which, certainly is not highly colored, would render pleasantries always odious; but to indulge in pleasantry is not to resemble such mischievous persons, thank heaven, it is far otherwise; for mild, kind, and harmless pleasantry should be taken in good part even by those who are the subjects of it; it is a friendly, and sportive contest, in which severity, jealousy, and resentment should never appear; whenever you perceive the least trace of them, the pleasantry is at an end; desist, then, the moment they appear. as to hoaxing, that caustic of fools; as to that silly gaiety, excited by the candor or politeness of people whom you falsely cause to believe the most foolish things, because they do not make known to you that they see through this pleasure of stupid fellows, i have nothing to say of them, except that i have too good an opinion of my reader to suppose that he does not despise them as i do. popular quotations and proverbs, as well as other quotations, require some care; and, except in familiar conversation, are altogether misplaced. if they are frequent, conversation becomes a tedious gossipping; if introduced without a short previous remark, one of two things will take place, they will either prevent the speaker from being understood, or they will give him the air of sancho panza. but the previous remark, however, need be but short; _as the proverb says_, _as the wisdom of nations has it_. a proverb well applied, and placed at the end of a phrase, frequently makes a very happy conclusion. i only speak to censure; i entreat my readers not to suffer themselves to be the manufacturers of puns, and to despise this talent of fools and childish means to excite a passing laugh. not that we cannot repeat in good company one of those rare political bon mots which are happy in every respect; nor that we ought to deprecate this kind of pleasantry before people who are fond of them, still less to tell them what they hear every day, _that is poor_; to have taste, does not authorize us to be impolite. we must be much more severe upon another kind of équivoques; namely, those which offend modesty. propriety allows you, and it even requires you not to listen to, but even to interrupt an ill-bred person who importunes you with those indecent witticisms which a man of good society ought always to avoid; they are those by aid of which we cover certain pleasantries with a veil so transparent, that they are the more observed. what pleasure can we find in causing ladies to blush, and in meriting the name of a man of bad society? there are those who think that they may allow themselves every kind of pleasantry before certain persons; but a man of good _ton_ ought to observe it wherever he is. we might quote more than one example of persons, who have lost politeness of manners and of language by assuming the habits and conversation of all kinds of society into which chance may have carried them. it requires but a moment to lose those delicate shades of character which constitute a man of the world, and which cost us so much labor to acquire. it is a great error to suppose that we must always shine in conversation, and that it is better to make ourselves admired by a lively and ready repartee, than to content ourselves sometimes with silence, or with an answer less brilliant than judicious.[ ] we must not imagine that all traits of wit are in the class of politeness; a vain and triumphant air spoils a bon mot; moreover, when you repeat a thing of this kind of which you are the author, beware of saying so to your auditors. [ ] that a reply may be truly pleasing, it is necessary that he who makes it has a right so to do, and that we may quote it without doing him any wrong; otherwise, we should laugh at the reply, and despise the author of it. there are replies which are pleasing in the mouth of a military man, but which would be ridiculous in the mouth of a civil magistrate. a young lady may make lively and brilliant repartees, which would be insupportable in a woman in the decline of life; as the latter might make such as would be unsuitable in a young lady. section vii. _of eulogiums, complainings, improprieties in general, and prejudices._ one of the most improper things, is to praise to excess and unseasonably. extravagant and misplaced eulogiums neither honor the one who bestows them, nor the persons who receive them. an infallible method of giving a meritorious person the air of a fool, is to address him to his face and without disguise, to load him with exaggerated eulogiums; it is indeed not a little embarrassing to reply in such a case. if we remain silent, we appear to be inhaling the incense with complacency; if we repel it, we only seem to excite it the more. thus we see, in such a case, and even among very clever persons too, those who reply by silly exclamations and by rude assertions. _you were laughing at me_, they say; this cannot be tolerated; it is to be supposed that the person who praises you is incapable of such an act. i think it would be better to say, _i did not know you were so kind_ (or so good) _i should indeed think you were joking me_. or else, we should say, _your partiality blinds you_. persons who are unacquainted with the world, commonly think that they cannot address a lady without first assailing her with compliments. this is a mistake, gentlemen, and i can with relation to this point, reveal to you what my sex prefers to these vulgar eulogiums. it is in bad _ton_ to overwhelm with insipid flattery all women that we meet, without distinction of age, rank or merit. these insipidities may indeed please some of light and frivolous minds, but will disgust a woman of good sense. carry on with them a lively, piquant and varied conversation; and remember that they have a too active imagination, a too great versatility of disposition, to support conversation for a long time upon the same subject. but is it then necessary to proscribe eulogiums entirely? not at all--society has not yet arrived at that degree of philosophy; eulogiums are and will for a long time be a means of success; but they should be in the first place, true, or at least probable, in order not to have the appearance of outrageous insults; they should be indirect and delicate, that we may listen to them without being obliged to interrupt; and they should be tempered with a sort of judgment, the skilful use of which, is itself even a eulogium. i repeat, as i have often said, let there be moderation in everything. should we not regard as gross and ridiculous language, that exaggeration which we frequently hear used in praise as well as in censure? it seems that true politeness in language consists principally in a certain moderation of expressions. it is much better to cause people to think more than we say, and not outrage language, and run the risk of going beyond what we ought to say. under any circumstances, complaining has always a bad grace. banish from your complaints ill-nature and animosity; let your anger be only an expression of the wrong you have suffered, and not of that which you would cause; this is the surest means of gaining to your side persons who would perhaps be doubtful whether to favor your adversary or yourself. politeness is not less opposed to making excessive complaints to the first person you meet, than to the frequent and extravagant eulogiums which you bestow improperly upon those from whom you expect a favor in return. by the word improprieties, we generally understand all violations of politeness. we, however, give to this word a particular and limited sense. it signifies a want of due regard to, and a forgetfulness of, the delicate attentions which seem to identify us with the situation of others. we will mention some examples of these particular violations of politeness. to accost sad people with a smiling face and sprightly manners, which prove to them the little interest which you take in their situation; to trouble by a whimsical and cross ill-humor, and by misanthropic declamations, the pleasure of contented persons; to exalt the advantages of beauty before aged ladies or those who are naturally unfortunate; to speak of the power that wealth bestows in the presence of people hardly arrived at mediocrity of fortune; to boast of one's strength or health before a valetudinarian, &c. the sense which we here give to the term _prejudices_ is still more limited than that which we have just given to the expression _improprieties_. we do not mean to speak here of those erroneous judgments, acknowledged as such, which though undermined, and shaken, are still respected by that society which they torment. we wish only to admonish our fair readers of those unfriendly prejudices of nation against nation, city against city, and section against section; that malevolent disposition which with a parisian makes the name _provincial_, synonymous with awkwardness and bad _ton_, and which, in the saloons of the chausée d'antin, allows no favor to persons lodging in the marais; because the people of the marais, provincials and englishmen, do not consider it any fault to return prejudice for prejudice, and contempt for contempt. chapter vii. _of epistolary composition._ next to social communications by means of visits and conversation, are communications by means of letters and billets. it is not only absence, but a multiplicity of business, and a great number of relations which give a very great extension to this part of our social interests. our readers have too much judgment to think that we wish to give them lessons in style, or teach them how they should write letters of friendship, of congratulation, of condolence, of apology, of recommendations, of invitation, of complaint, or of censure. this enumeration alone, shows the impossibility of it. some general reflections upon propriety in epistolary composition, and strict details of the forms and ceremonial parts of letters, will compose this important chapter. section i. _of propriety in letter writing._ if in conversation we ought to attend to propriety of language, its choice and graceful euphony, how much more is it necessary to endeavor to make our style in writing clear, precise, elegant, and appropriate to all subjects. vivacity of discourse forces us frequently to sacrifice happy though tardy expressions to the necessity of avoiding hesitancy; but what is thus an obstacle in speaking, does not interfere with the use of the pen. we ought, therefore, to avoid repetitions, erasing, insertions, omissions, and confusion of ideas or labored construction. if we write a familiar letter to an equal or a friend, these blemishes may remain; but otherwise, we must commence our letter again. the most exact observance of the rules of language is strictly necessary; a fault of orthography, or an incorrect expression, are not allowable, even in the least careful letter or the most unimportant billet. even correction is not admissible; for, besides being a blemish to the letter, it betrays the ignorance or inattention of him who writes it. for these reasons, it is well to make a rough draft, if we are little accustomed to epistolary style, and if being very young, we cannot perfectly remember the rules of syntax, and the dictionary. some persons, it is true, censure this precaution, which, say they, marks the style with affectation and stiffness. this censure does not seem to me well-founded. the loss of time which this method requires, is a more real inconvenience; and for this reason, and on account of the embarrassment with which we may be troubled, it is well to accustom ourselves to writing a letter _extempore_ with neatness, elegance and correctness. the choice of materials for writing, without being very essential, is yet necessary; to write on very coarse paper, is allowable only to the most indigent; to use gilt edged and perfumed paper for letters of business, would be ridiculous. the selection of paper ought always to be in keeping with the person, the age, the sex, and the circumstances of the correspondents. ornamented paper, of which we have just spoken; paper bordered with colored vignettes and embossed with ornaments in relief upon the edges; and paper slightly colored with delicate shades, are designed for young ladies, and those whose condition, taste, and dignity, presuppose habits of luxury and elegance. many distinguished people, however, reasonably prefer simplicity in this thing, and make use of very beautiful paper, but yet without ornament. people of business, heads of companies or establishments, and persons of distinction, with many titles, use paper printed at the top, that is to say, having the name of their residence, the three first figures of the date of the year, their address, and these words, _mr. ----_, (here follow the titles) to _mr. ----_. it is extremely impolite to write a letter upon a single leaf of paper, even if it is a billet; it should be always double, even though we write only two or three lines. it is still more vulgar to use for an envelope, paper on which there are one or two words foreign to the letter itself, whether they be written or printed. billets, letters folded lengthwise, and half-envelopes, are little used. a folded letter, especially if written upon vellum paper, should be pressed at the folds by means of a paper-folder. the rules of politeness ought moreover to decide as to the expense of postage. they require us to defray the expense of the letter if it is written to distinguished persons, or to those of whom we ask any favor; but it would be an incivility, and sometimes a want of delicacy, to do it when we write to a friend, an acquaintance, or to persons of little fortune, whose feelings we should fear to wound. we must therefore, in order to save them the expense as well as to avoid dissatisfaction, endeavor to make some excuse of business. letters for new year's day, and other holidays, are usually written beforehand, in order to arrive on the previous or very same day. this is particularly required towards relations; for friends and intimate acquaintances, the following week will do, and for other persons, any time within the month. it is as indispensable to answer when you are written to, as when you are spoken to, and the indolence which so many correspondents allow in themselves, in this respect, is an incivility. and if after all they decide to answer, they begin by apologies so constantly renewed, that they become common-place. we must use much care that these excuses may not be ridiculous. conciseness, and some new terms of expression, are, in this case, indispensable. the same observation is applicable in making use of reproving terms. letters supply the place of visits, as we have seen, in bestowing presents, or on occasions of marriages, funerals, &c.; to neglect to write in a similar case, is gross impoliteness. two persons should not write in the same letter, by one writing upon the first, and another upon the second leaf, except we are intimate with the correspondent. the same is applicable to postscripts. it is not allowable, except to familiar friends, to use expressions borrowed from foreign languages, as for instance the phrase of the italians, _i kiss your hands_, &c. the language of men who write to ladies ought always to have a polish of respect, with which the latter might dispense in answering. except on occasions of great ceremony, a lady ought not to address to a man such phrases as, _i have the honor to be_, &c. while the latter should use the most respectful terms, as _deign, madam, to allow me_; _allow me the honor of presenting you my respects_, &c. you may use a lofty style towards persons to whom you owe respect; on easy, trifling, or even jesting style, towards a friend; and a courteous style towards ladies generally. you should not write in a trifling style to persons of a higher standing. it sometimes happens that a man of superior rank honors with his friendship a man of lower condition, and is pleased that the latter writes to him without ceremony. in this case we may use the privilege which is given us; but we must take care not to abuse it, and to make known from time to time that we are ready to confine ourselves within respectful bounds. when you write upon any subject, consider it fully before putting it upon paper, and treat of each topic in order, that you may not be obliged to recur to any one again, after having spoken of another thing. if you have many subjects to treat of in the same letter, commence with the most important; for if the person to whom you write is interrupted while reading it, he will be the more impatient to resume the reading, however little interesting he may find it. it is useful and convenient to begin a new paragraph at every change of the subject. after having written _sir_ or _madam_ at the top of the letter, we should not commence with one of these phrases; _sir, madam --, your sister, has written me, that_. we should say, _i understand by a letter which madam --, your sister, has written me_. take care also, when writing to a person worthy of respect, not to make compliments to any one. but write to this third person whatever you wish him to know. titles of respect, as _lordship_, _majesty_, _highness_, _excellency_, _honor_, _madam_, &c. ought never to be abbreviated, either in writing to the persons themselves, or to any one who has acquaintance with them. figures are used only for sums and dates; numbers of men, days, weeks, &c. are to be written at length. section ii. _of the interior and exterior form of letters._ the interior form of a letter comprehends the titles and qualities of persons to whom it is proper to give them; the more or less courteous phrases which we use; the more or less respectful manner with which the commencement and body of the letter are to be arranged; and the more or less humble terms which we are to use for the signature, the address or the superscription. the exterior form of a letter is what concerns the size of the paper; the blank that we should leave between the _vedette_, (or line containing only the name) and the first line; between the last line, the appellation, and signature; the manner of folding the letter, and the choice and mode of putting on the seal. in addressing the pope, we say at the top of the letter, _holy father_, or _most holy father_; and instead of _you_, we should say, _your holiness_; to a prince cardinal, _my lord_, and _your most eminent highness_. to a cardinal, _my lord_, and _your eminence_. to an archbishop or bishop, _my lord_, and _your grace_. to an emperor or empress, we say, _sire_, or _madam_; and instead of _you_, we say, _your imperial majesty_. to a king we also say, _sire_, and _your majesty_. to a queen, _madam_, and _your majesty_. to the brother of a king, _your royal highness_. to an elector of the empire, _your electoral highness_. to a sovereign prince, _your most serene highness_. to a prince, _your highness_. to an ambassador or minister, _your excellency_. to the chancellor of france, _my lord_, and _your lordship_. the title _excellency_ is not given to ladies. persons who have an exact knowledge of the language and usage of the court, know what is the most proper manner of expressing themselves. we will give some examples in which the different degrees of respect may be readily perceived. 'i have received the letter with which you have been pleased to honor me.' 'i have received the letter which you have done me the favor to write to me, which you have done me the honor to write to me, which you have taken the trouble to write to me.' there are some persons who commence their letters with these words; _i have received yours of the th current_; this is a fault; we should say, _your letter_. the first is the style of those people who, being pressed with business, are obliged to make abbreviations; and we must, in the common customs of life, beware of imitating them in this respect. we may say the same in respect to persons who write at the top of their letters, '_i_ have received _your honored letter_ of such a date;' or, 'in answer to _your honored letter_;' or, '_i write you these few words_.' all these forms are objectionable. we should never repeat in the first sentence of a letter, the names _my lord_, _sir_, or _madam_, with which we began. but if we write to a prince, or even to a minister, we should after the first line use the words, _your majesty_, _your highness_, or _your excellency_, and repeat them from time to time, in the course of the letter, if it is of some length. as to the conclusion of a letter, we should not say simply, _i am_, without adding some such phrase as these; _with the most profound respect_; _with profound respect_, _with the highest regard_, &c. to persons who have the title of _majesty_, _highness_, _eminence_, &c. we say, _i am your majesty's_, or _your highness's_, &c. _very humble_, &c. the words _esteem_ and _affection_ are used only in letters to friends or acquaintance, because they are too familiar; but when accompanied by any words which relieve them, they do not offend one. as for example, we can say, _i am with profound respect, and the highest esteem_, &c. the following forms may be used with elegance; accept, sir, the assurances of high consideration; be pleased to accept the assurances, &c. letters of petition or request should be in folio, that is to say, upon a sheet of paper in its full size; the margin should be half the breadth of the page; the spaces and blanks which we ought to leave between the upper edge of the paper and the _vedette_,[ ] and between the _vedette_ and the first line, are very different, according to the degree of inferiority or superiority. the greater these spaces are, the more respect do they indicate. the first line ought always to begin below the middle of the page, when we write to a person to whom we owe much respect; but the second page should begin one line below the _vedette_. a blank space should always be left between the last words of the signature, and the lower edge of the paper. if there should not be sufficient room, it would be better to carry one or two lines over to the succeeding page, than to fail in this respect. for a familiar letter, it has become fashionable to leave no margin at all. it is, however, in these letters only that margins can be useful, namely, in receiving a vertical line when all the paper is filled. the date of a letter may be put at the beginning when we write to an equal; but in writing to a superior, it should be at the end, in order that the title at the head of the letter may be entirely alone. in letters of business, on the contrary, it is necessary to date at the top and on the first line, that persons may know conveniently, the chronological order of their communications. the date is often necessary to the understanding of many passages of your letter, or to explain the sense of one which your correspondent may have received at the same time from another person. in a simple billet, we put the date of the day, _monday_, &c. it is well sometimes to add the hour. every letter to a superior ought to be folded in an envelope. it shows a want of respect to seal with a wafer; we must use sealing-wax. men usually select red; but young ladies use gilt, rose, and other colors. both use black wax when they are in mourning. except in this last case, the color is immaterial, but not the size, for very large ones are in bad taste. the smaller and more glossy, the better _ton_ they are. although sealing-wax is preferable, still we must sometimes avoid using it; it is when we are afraid that the seal may be opened. when the letter is closed with or without an envelope, we put only a single seal upon it; but if the letter is large, we use two. moreover, if it contains important papers, it should have three seals or more, according to the nature of the envelope. if a person takes charge of a letter as a favor, it would be very impolite to put more than one seal upon it. if the letter should be folded in such a manner that by partly opening it at the end, its contents may be read, it would be equally impolite to put a little wax upon the edges. we can use this precaution only when the letter is sent by the post or by a domestic. when we use no envelope, and the third page of the letter is all written upon, we should leave a small blank space where the seal is to be put; without this precaution, many very important words will be covered. we should not seal a letter of respect with an antique device. it is more polite to use our coat of arms or cipher. persons of taste, who have no coat of arms, adopt a seal bearing some ingenious device, in keeping with their profession, sentiments, &c. a letter which is to be shown, as a letter of introduction or recommendation, ought never to be sealed, since the bearer ought necessarily to know the contents. but to seal it without having first allowed the bearer to read it, would be very impolite. you should prove to the person recommended, that you have spared no pains to render him a service. it is only conscripts, and peasants, who fold a letter like an apothecary's packet, who omit to press the wafer with a seal, or secure it by pricking it in every part with the point of a pin. we never seal petitions which are to be presented to the king, and to the members of the royal family. some distinguished persons are flattered in writing to them, by our omitting to designate precisely their address. it is an error; we should indicate with exactness the town, and the province, state, &c. if there is more than one town of the same name. in a large city, it is well to write the name of the street and number, and the quarter of the city where the street is. people of business, abbreviate this by putting n and the number, or the number alone; this practice is more expeditious than polite. we generally address a letter to one person only; but in certain cases we may address to two or more collectively. it is well to add to the name, the title or profession, in order to prevent mistake. however, if circumstances have obliged any one of your acquaintance to act in an inferior situation, it would be a want of delicacy to join to his name that of his business. when we write to the king, we put simply in the address, _to the king_. to foreign kings we say, _to his catholic majesty_, _his britannic majesty_, &c. to persons who have the title of highness, we say, _to his highness_, and then their quality or rank. to ministers and ambassadors, we say, _to his excellency, the minister_, or _ambassador_. if a person has many titles, we select the highest, and omit the others. in billets, we put the date at the top of the paper, and begin the letter about two inches below. the word _sir_ is put in the first line. we conclude with one of these phrases, _i am, sir, yours_; _i am entirely yours_, &c. we do not write a billet to ladies, or to superiors, as this was introduced only to avoid ceremony. the most familiar billets are written in the third person, contrary to the common practice. they contain very little, and begin thus, _mr._ or _madam n present their respects_, or _compliments, to mr. such-a-one, and request_, &c. after having made the request, we end with, _and he will oblige his humble servant_. in this kind of billets, it is best not to use the pronoun _he_ or _she_, for independently of the incivility, it might result in confusion. sometimes it would be difficult to know whether the pronoun referred to the person who received the letter, or to the one who wrote it. i shall conclude this chapter by an observation relative to friendly and familiar letters; not that i have the folly to pretend to regulate by any ceremonial, the sentiments of the heart; but there is in reality nothing more cold and ridiculous, than accumulations of epithets like these, _your tender, sincere and constant friend_, &c. [ ] see page . chapter viii. _additional rules in respect to the social relations._ i include under this name, everything relating to friendly attentions, such as services, loans, presents, advice, and also things in relation to discretion, such as respect in conversation, letters, secrets, confidential communications, &c. section i. _of an obliging deportment._ polite persons are necessarily obliging. a smile is always on their lips, an earnestness in their countenance, when we ask a favor of them. they know that to render a service with a bad grace, is in reality not to render it. if they are obliged to refuse a favor, they do this with mildness and delicacy; they express such feeling regret, that they still inspire us with gratitude; in short, their conduct appears so perfectly natural, that it really seems that the opportunity which is offered them of obliging us, is obliging themselves; they refuse all our thanks, without affectation or effort. this amiable character, a necessary attendant of perfect good breeding, is not always found with all its charms, in the world. there are besides, some obliging persons, who force us to extort their services, who feel of great consequence, who like to be supplicated and thanked to excess. do not imitate them: they make us ungrateful in spite of ourselves, they make gratitude a pain and a burden. when one asks of you any favor, reply kindly, "i am at your service, and shall be very happy to render you any assistance in my power;" or else, with a sad manner, lament that there is such an obstacle, &c. then examine the means of overcoming the obstacle, even if you should be assured beforehand that none exists. other persons, pretending to be polite, make protestations of their services and zeal, without taking the trouble to abide by their offers when an occasion is afforded them: so great is their trifling in this respect that they can be justly compared to those false heroes who are always talking of fighting, and who would be put to flight at the sight of a drawn sword. these indications of zeal are suspicious, when they are employed every moment and without any reason; a knowledge of the world teaches us to discern them, and to give them that degree of confidence which they merit. sometimes we can congratulate persons, wish them well, and have the appearance of taking an interest in the recital which they are making of their affairs, without really feeling the least interest for them. we cannot always command our indifference in this respect, but we are obliged to spare them that constraint and ennui, which would infallibly be shown if we should manifest to them the coldness which they inspire. it belongs to those persons who know the world, not to confound this politeness, with the pretended zeal of the don quixottes of the drawing-room, of whom we have spoken above. in order that a service may be completed, it is necessary that it should be done quickly, nothing being more disobliging than tardiness, and the alternative, which you place a person in, either of addressing to you new solicitations, or of suffering by your delay. your tardy assistance may perhaps be prejudicial, for one would suffer a long time before resolving to importune you anew. make use then of despatch. if any circumstances prevent you from acting, inform the person, apologise, and promise to make reparation for your neglect. on his part, the person who is under the obligation to you, should be careful of using a single term of reproach and of accosting you with an air of dissatisfaction. when any one who is visiting you has need of a shawl, a handkerchief, a hat, offer it with a complaisant zeal, resist the refusal which is made (and which propriety does not require) select the best you have, in short, urge the persons not to be in haste to return the articles. if it is very bad weather, and the occasion a proper one, offer an umbrella or your carriage. these things are returned the next day by a domestic, who is charged to thank the person for them. if the articles are linen, they should not be returned before they are washed. when a lady has borrowed ornaments of another, as for instance, jewels, the latter should always offer to lend her more than are asked for: she ought also to keep a profound silence about the things which she has lent, and even abstain from wearing them for some time afterwards, in order that they may not be recognised. if any one, perceiving they were borrowed, should speak to the person of it, he would pass for an ill-bred man. if the borrower speaks to you of it, it is well to reply that nobody had recognised them. all this advice is minute, but what kind will you have? it concerns female self-esteem. one species of borrowing which is of daily occurrence, and happens very often to the loss of the owners, is the borrowing of books. persons are so wanting in delicacy on this subject, that those who have a passion for books, and who are very obliging in other respects, are forced to refuse making these troublesome loans. the case, however, is a very perplexing one; we cannot say, _i am not willing to lend you this work_; but if the borrower is a suspicious person, we can say we have occasion to use it, that we regret it very much, but that we will lend it to him in a few days. however, we do not lend it at all. well-bred persons do not make a bare request for a book; they wait until it is offered, and then they accept the offer hesitatingly; they find out the length of time they can keep it, and return it punctually at the appointed day. in order to prevent every accident, they cover it with cloth or paper, since the favor should render them more careful than the value of the book; they also take care not to turn down the leaves, or make marks, marginal notes, &c. if any accident happens to a borrowed article, we must repair the loss immediately. i shall not speak of more important loans, which are out of the range of politeness. section ii. _of presents._ in the eyes of persons of delicacy, presents are not of worth, except from the manner in which they are bestowed; in our advice, then, let us strive to give them this value. presents are offered first to relations and to friends; and they occur under different circumstances; on our arrival at a place from which we have been absent for a long time; when our intimate friends leave the town in which we reside; on our return from a journey, particularly to the capital; in remarkable and remote countries; on birth days, or days of baptism, or new year's day. but this day is not the only occasion of exchanging presents in a family, it is also an occasion for recollecting services and civilities; of making our respects to ladies, to superiors whom we wish to honor. it moreover offers us a delicate means of succoring the unfortunate. secondly, at harvest time, if one owns land, in the hunting season, if one is a hunter, it is in good _ton_ to send to our intimate friends, fine fruits, rare flowers, or some choice articles of game. the most delicate presents are the productions of our own industry; a drawing, a piece of needle work, ornamental hair-work, &c. but such offerings, though invaluable among friends, are not used on occasions of ceremony. next to fitness of time for presents, comes fitness in the selection of them; generally, luxury and elegance ought to reign in the latter; but this rule has numerous exceptions: and although it would be out of place to offer things purely useful (to which certain incidents would give the appearance of charity) still we should be in an error to suppose that a present is suitable, which is brilliant alone. it must by all means be adapted to the taste, age, and professions of persons, and their connexions with us. thus to superiors, you offer fruits, game, &c. to a student, books;[ ] to a friend of the arts, music, or engravings; to young married ladies, delicate and graceful articles of the toilet, &c. presents should excite surprise and pleasure, therefore you ought to involve them in a mystery, and present them with an air of joyful kindness. when you have made your offering, and thanks have been elicited, do not bring back the conversation to the same subject; be careful, particularly, of making your gift of consequence. on the contrary, when its merit has been extolled, when the persons who have received the present, have evinced a lively satisfaction, say that the gift receives all its value from their opinion of it. however slight charm a present may have, or if even insignificant, we should be ill-bred not to manifest much pleasure in receiving it. it is besides, necessary, when an opportunity offers, to speak of it, not to fail of saying to the donor, how useful or agreeable his present is to you. in proportion as a long space of time has elapsed, this attention is the more amiable; it proves that you have preserved the object with care. and this reminds me, that we should never give away a present which we have received from another person, or at least that we should so arrange it, that it may never be known. it is well to mingle with our manifestations of gratitude, some exceptions to the high value of the gift, but not to dwell a long time on the subject, or to exclaim about it with earnestness. under some circumstances, these declamations may seem dictated by avarice and a want of delicacy; they are besides in bad taste at all times. we often make a present to some one through his children or wife, especially on new year's day, when it is the custom to present at least confectionary to the young families of one's acquaintance. at paris, we make such presents to married ladies; in the provincial towns, we do not. above all, when one has received a present of some value, he calls upon the person who gave it, or, if the distance is great, addresses to him a letter of thanks. every one knows that custom requires us to make a remuneration of a proportionate value, to the domestic who is the bearer of the present. [ ] it is not polite, when the presents are pamphlets, to offer those of which you have cut the leaves. section iii. _of advice._ advice is a very good thing, it is true; it is however a thing which in society is the most displeasing. a giver of advice, who is incessantly repeating, _if i was in your place, i should do so and so_, repels every one by his pride and indiscretion. such an impertinent person should know, that he ought not to give advice without he is asked, and that the number of those who ask it is very limited: we are not, however, speaking here of gratifications of vanity, but of that advice, the kindness and affection of which, gives it a claim to our attention. it is necessary to use much reserve and care, because otherwise you would seem to have a tone of superiority which would array the self-esteem of your friend against your wisest counsels. of the forms of modesty, no one in this place is superfluous: we may say, "it is possible that i am mistaken, i should be far from having the courage to enquire of you," &c. if a person makes any objections, do not say, _you do not understand me_, but, _i have not expressed myself properly_. section iv. _of discretion._ the duties of discretion are so sensibly felt by persons of good breeding, that they do not violate them except through forgetfulness. it will be enough then to make an enumeration of them, without intending to point out their necessity. discretion requires in the first place, respect with regard to conversation. if, when we enter the house of any one, we hear persons talking in an earnest manner, we step more heavily, in order to give notice to those who are engaged in the conversation. if, in an assembly, two persons retire by themselves to speak of business, we should be careful not to approach them, nor speak to them until they have separated. people who have lived a little in the world, know how essential it is not to mingle with curiosity in the business of persons whom we visit; nor are they ignorant what conduct is to be observed in case we surprise persons by an unexpected call; but young persons may not know, and i beg them to give their attention to it. when we see a person occupied, we retire, or at least make signs of it; if they should detain us, we step aside, and appear to be examining a picture, or looking out of the window, in order to prove that we take no notice of what engages them. but the desire to find for ourselves some such occupation, ought not to lead us to turn over the leaves of books placed upon the chimney-piece or elsewhere; to run over a pamphlet; or to handle visiting cards, or letters, even though it be only to read the superscription. if the person visited should be opening a closet or drawers, it would be rude curiosity to approach in order to see what was contained there. if, among a number of valuable things, they take one to show you, be satisfied with looking at that alone, without appearing to think of the others. if, before the person visited comes in, we should see another visitor, who, to pass the time, should take a journal or a book from his pocket, it would be extremely impolite to read over his shoulder, and equally uncivil to read what a person is writing. it is not allowable to take down the books from a library; but we may, and we even ought to read the titles, in order to praise the good taste which has been shown in the choice of the works. if it happens that any one exhibits to a circle some rare and valuable object, do not be in haste to ask for it, or to take it by reaching out your hand; wait modestly until it comes to you; do not examine it too long when you have it, and if by chance any ill-bred person requests it before you have seen it, do not detain it; it is better to suffer this small privation than to pass for a badly educated virtuoso. however insignificant the boasted object may be, never criticise it; if your opinion is asked, answer a few words of praise; if the thing is really curious, abstain from exaggerated compliments. to violate the secresy of letters, under any pretext whatever, is so base and odious, that i dare not say a word about it; i think, i ought to say, that it is also very reprehensible to endeavor to read any part of a letter folded in such a manner as to be partly open at the ends; and when a certain passage in a letter concerning yourself is handed you to read, you should put your finger below it in order not to read anything more; and if you are allowed to add anything in a letter, have the discretion not to cast your eyes over the rest, and be expeditious so as to avoid the suspicion that you take advantage of the circumstance. politeness is also opposed, in certain cases, to a too great haste to know anything relating to ourselves. for example, if a person brings you a letter, you should not be in a hurry to open it, but see whether the letter concerns the bearer at all, or only yourself. in the first case, you should open it, and read it while he is present; in the other case, you should lay it aside. politeness does not, however, impose such restraints upon curiosity in small things, and leave us free in important ones. thus, we shall not say that we ought religiously to keep a secret, and that confidence received is a sacred deposit; but we shall say to persons who have curiosity to know any private circumstance, that they ought to be filled with shame if they do not desist all importunity as soon as they hear the word, _it is a secret_. chapter ix. _of travelling._ this chapter, although only accessory, and but remotely connected with the social relations, should be added here; as we do not wish to make any voluntary omission, and, besides, if in travelling, the duties of politeness are less numerous, they are not, therefore, less obligatory. persons about to travel, ought to make visits of taking leave among their acquaintances, of whom they should ask if they have any commands for them. it would be indiscreet, unless in case of perfect intimacy, to accept this offer, or to ask them to take charge of such or such a thing, especially if it is a packet; if persons are very intimate, we may request them to let us hear of their arrival. before their departure, the names of passengers are entered in the order of their numbers, at the public coach offices. after this, each one takes the place assigned him. politeness, however, requires that a man should offer his seat to a lady who is less well accommodated; for it would be improper that he should be seated upon the back seat, while she should be seated upon the front one. some persons cannot bear the motion of a coach when they ride backwards; and this manner of riding incommodes them extremely. polite travellers will take pleasure in relieving them from this trouble. ladies, on their part, ought not to require too much, nor put to too severe a test the complaisance of gentlemen. the latter, however, should at every stopping place, attentively help them alight, by offering the hand, and directing their feet on the step of the coach. the same thing is necessary in assisting them to get in again. it would appear badly, to take advantage of one's superiority of rank, to consult his own convenience alone. it is necessary on the contrary, for him to have great care not to incommode any one, and to show every civility to his fellow travellers. politeness in travelling is not so rigorous as in society; it only requires that we should not incommode our companions; that we should be agreeable to them; that we should politely answer their questions; but it leaves us free to read, sleep, look about, or observe silence, &c. a traveller would be uncivil if he should open or shut the windows of the coach without consulting the people who are with him; or, if he should, without offering to them, take any light and delicate food, as fruits, cakes, or confectionary, but which they do not generally accept; and he would appear disagreeable, if, knowing the route, he should not point out the beautiful sites, and satisfy any questions concerning them; finally, he would deserve the name of an imprudent prater, if he should converse with his fellow travellers as with intimate acquaintances. on our return, we should carry or send the commissions which we have received. partial acquaintances, to whom we have offered only by writing, to take their commands, should not expect a visit on our return; this right belongs only to relations, friends, or intimate acquaintances. finally, all those for whom you have executed any commissions, owe you a visit of thanks as soon as it can be done. if you travel on horseback, in distinguished company, give them the right, and keep a little behind, regulating yourself by the progress of your companions. there is one exception to this rule; it is when one of the two horses is skittish, so that it is absolutely necessary that the other should pass on first, that this one may follow. if you happen to be on the windward side, so that you throw dust upon your companion, you should change your position. when we pass by trees, the branches of which are about the height of the shoulders, the one who goes first ought to take care that the branches, in going back to their former situation, should not strike with violence against the person who follows. if you are passing a large stream, a small river, or a muddy pool, by fording, it is polite to go first; but if we have not taken precautions, and fall in the rear, we ought to keep at a distance, so that the horse's feet may not spatter the water or mud upon the gentleman before us. if your companion gallops his horse, you should never pass him, nor make your horse caper, unless he signifies that it is agreeable to him. part iii. of propriety in relation to pleasures. chapter i. _of entertainments._ politeness ought, as we have seen, to direct and embellish all the circumstances of life; but it is, if possible, still more necessary in relation to pleasures, which, without it, would have no attraction. without intending to adopt the epigrammatic style, i will say that dining is almost an event, so many points of propriety have the master of the house and his guests to observe. when we intend giving an entertainment, we begin by selecting such guests as may enjoy themselves together, or at least tolerate one another. if it is to be composed of gentlemen, there should be no lady present, except the lady of the house. the dinner being determined upon, we give out two or three days beforehand, verbal or written invitations. during the carnival or other season of gaiety, it is necessary to do it at least five days in advance, on account of the numerous engagements. when we receive a written invitation, we must answer immediately whether we accept or not, although silence may be considered equivalent to an acceptance. in the latter case, we should give a plausible reason of our declining, and do it with politeness. when the invitation is verbal, we must avoid being urged; for nothing is more foolish and disobliging; we ought either to accept or refuse in a frank and friendly manner, offering some reasonable motive for declining, to which we should not again refer. it is not allowable to be urged, except when we are requested to dine with someone whom we have seen only at the house of a third person, or when we are invited on a visit or other similar occasion. in the former case, if we accept, we should first leave a card in order to open the acquaintance. having once accepted, we cannot break our engagement, unless for a most urgent cause. an invitation ought to specify exactly the hour of meeting, and you should arrive precisely at that hour. the table should be ready, and the mistress of the house in the drawing-room, to receive the guests. when they are all assembled, a domestic announces that the dinner is served up; at this signal we rise immediately, and wait until the master of the house requests us to pass into the dining-room, whither he conducts us, by going before. it is quite common for the lady of the house to act as guide, while he offers his hand to the lady of most distinction. the guests also give their arms to ladies, whom they conduct as far as the table, and to the place which they are to occupy. take care, if you are not the principal guest, not to offer your hand to the handsomest or most distinguished lady; for it is a great impoliteness. having arrived at the table, each guest respectfully salutes the lady whom he conducts, and who in turn bows also. it is one of the first and most difficult things properly to arrange the guests, and to place them in such a manner that the conversation may always be general during the entertainment; we should as much as possible avoid putting next one another, two persons of the same profession; for it would necessarily result in an _aside_ conversation, which would injure the general conversation, and consequently the gaiety of the occasion. the two most distinguished gentlemen are placed next the mistress of the house; the two most distinguished ladies next the master of the house; the right hand is especially the place of honor. if the number of gentlemen is nearly equal to that of the ladies, we should take care to intermingle them; we should separate husbands from their wives, and remove near relations as far from one another as possible, because being always together, they ought not to converse among themselves in a general party. the younger guests, or those of less distinction, are placed at the lower end of the table. in order to be able to watch the course of the dinner, and to see that nothing is wanting to their guests, the master and mistress of the house usually seat themselves in the centre of the table, opposite each other. as soon as the guests are seated, the lady of the house serves in plates, from a pile at her left hand, the soup which she sends round, beginning with her neighbors at the right and left, and continuing in the order of their distinction. these first plates usually pass twice, for every one endeavors to make his neighbor accept whatever is sent him. the master of the house carves or causes to be carved by some expert guests, the large pieces, in order afterwards to do the honors himself. if you have no skill in carving meats, you should not attempt it; and never discharge this duty except when your good offices are solicited by him; neither can we refuse from his hand anything sent us. a master of a house ought never to pride himself upon what appears on his table, nor confuse himself with apologies for the bad cheer which he offers you; it is much better for him to observe silence in this respect, and leave it to his guests to pronounce eulogiums on the dinner; neither is it in good _ton_ to urge guests to eat nor to load their plate against their will. i will now give a few words of advice to guests; puerile it may be, but which it is well to listen to, and observe. it is ridiculous to make a display of your napkin; to attach it with pins upon your bosom, or to pass it through your buttonhole; to use a fork in eating soup; to ask for _meat_ instead of _beef_; for _poultry_ instead of saying chicken, or turkey; to turn up your cuffs while carving; to take bread, even when it is within your reach, instead of calling upon the servant; to cut with a knife your bread, which should be broken by your hand; and to pour your coffee into the saucer to cool. guests of the house of a distinguished personage are accompanied each by his own servant, who takes his place behind his chair. they should not address him during the entertainment, still less reprimand him. before placing themselves at the table, they ought to direct him to serve the other guests also, and to retire as soon as the table is cleared, because the domestics of the house ought to eat by themselves. during the first course, each one helps himself at his pleasure to whatever he drinks; but, in the second course, when the master of the house passes round choice wine, it would be uncivil to refuse it. we are not obliged, however, to accept a second glass. when at the end of the second course, the cloth is removed, the guests may assist in turning off that part of it which is before them, and contribute to the arrangement of the dessert plates which happen to be near, but without attempting to alter the disposition of them. from the time that the dessert appears on the table, the duties of the master of the house diminish, as do also his rights. if a gentleman is seated by the side of a lady or elderly person, politeness requires him to save them all trouble of pouring out for themselves to drink, of procuring anything to eat, and of obtaining whatever they are in want of at the table. he ought to be eager to offer them what he thinks to be most to their taste. it would be impolite to monopolize a conversation which ought to be general. if the company is large, we should converse with our neighbors, raising the voice only enough to make ourselves understood. custom allows ladies at the end of an entertainment to dip their fingers into a glass of water, and to wipe them with their napkin; it allows them also to rinse the mouth, using their plate for this purpose; but, in my opinion, custom sanctions it in vain. it is for the mistress of the house to give the signal to leave the table; all the guests then rise, and, offering their arms to the ladies, wait upon them to the drawing-room, where coffee and _liqueurs_ are prepared. we do not take coffee at the table, except at unceremonious dinners. in leaving the table, the master of the house ought to go last. politeness requires us to remain at least an hour in the drawing-room after dinner; and, if we can dispose of an entire evening, it would be well to devote it to the person who has entertained us. we should not leave the table before the end of the entertainment, unless from urgent necessity. if it is a married lady, she requests some one to accompany her; if a young lady, she goes with her mother. the question whether it is proper, or not, to sing at table, depends now upon the _ton_ of the master of the house. we do not sing at the houses of people of fashion and the high classes of society; but we may do it at the social tables of citizens. in this case, we may repeat what has been said and proved a thousand times how ridiculous it is to be urged when we know how to sing, or to insist upon hearing a person sing who has an invincible timidity. after dinner, we converse, have music, or more frequently, prepare the tables for games. in the course of the soirée, the mistress of the house sends round upon a waiter _eau sucrée_ or refreshing syrups. during the week which follows the entertainment, each guest owes a visit to the person who has invited them. we usually converse at this time, of the dinner, of the pleasure we have enjoyed, and of the persons whom we met there. this visit has received the cant name of the _visite de digestion_. chapter ii. _of promenades, parties, and amusements._ the paragraphs contained in this chapter concern the most common relations of society. complaisance and attentions ought therefore to embellish and adorn these relations with all the delicate shades of politeness. section i. _of promenades._ a young man who walks with an elderly person, undoubtedly knows that his companion has not the same strength and agility as himself; he ought therefore to regulate his pace by that of the old person. the same precaution should be observed when we accompany a person of distinction to whom we owe respect. decorum requires that a gentleman should offer his arm to a lady who walks with him; and politeness requires him to ask permission to carry anything which she may have in her hand, as a bag, a book, or a parasol (if the sun does not shine;) in case of a refusal, he ought to insist upon it. if there are more ladies than gentlemen, we should offer our arm to the oldest, and to a married lady rather than to an unmarried one. if we are accompanied by two ladies, we cannot dispense with offering our arm to each of them. place your company upon that side which seems to them most convenient, and beware of opposing their tastes or desires. when occasion presents itself, offer seats to your companions to rest themselves, and do not urge them to rise until they manifest a wish to continue their walk. if they accept your invitation to sit down, and it happens that there are not a sufficient number of seats, then the ladies should sit, and the gentlemen remain standing. in a large public garden, chairs are seldom wanting; if it is necessary to go for some to the place where they are kept, this is the business of the gentlemen, who ought to take care not to place them before persons already seated, for this would be an incivility. when payment for the seats is called for, one gentleman of the company pays for the whole. it would be impolite to offer to reimburse him. there is also a rule of politeness to be observed with regard to those whom we meet in walking. we ought to offend neither their eyes nor their ears. we must take care not to attract their attention by immoderate laughter, nor allow ourselves liberties which we cannot take in a private garden. to sing and skip about in walking, would expose us to the hootings of the multitude, and to unpleasant things for which we could only accuse our own folly. if you are in a public promenade, converse upon general topics, which can offend no one, in order that your remarks may not be wrongly interpreted by persons who happen to hear them. beware on the other hand, of listening to the conversation of those who are not of your party. if you give your arm to a lady in the street, she ought to be next the wall. and if by chance, you are obliged to cross over, you should then change the arm. this deference is likewise due to all who are entitled to our respect. two gentlemen do not take one another's arms in the street, unless they are young persons and intimate friends. we never go in advance of the lady whom we accompany, and if she stops, we do so likewise, and remain with her in looking at whatever attracts her attention. if a mendicant comes up to ask alms, we immediately draw out our purse to satisfy his wants, so that the lady with whom we are walking may not be importuned by him. if we walk in a private garden, and the company is numerous, we may separate, and form distinct groups. if the master of the house or any person of consideration, invite you to walk up and down the alleys, take care to give them the right, it being the most honorable side. at the end of each alley, and when you must retrace your steps, turn inside towards the other person, and not outward, as you would thus present your back to him. if you happen to be with two persons who are your superiors, do not place yourself in the middle, for that is the place of honor; the right, is the second, and the left the third place. be careful also of the choice of places if you take an airing in a coach, and yield the first seats to ladies and distinguished persons. the one of most consequence gets in first, and places himself at the right of the back seat; the left of the same seat is occupied next; then, the third person seats himself on the front seat, facing the one in the first place; the fourth person takes the remaining seat, facing the one in the second place. if there is no servant, it is proper for the gentlemen to open the door, arrange the packets, &c. in a cabriolet or chaise, the right side is for the one who drives when there are only two persons. if there are three, the driver sits in the middle, even although he may be very inferior to his companions. i may add, that it is not customary for a lady to go alone in a hired cabriolet, since she would then be in the company of the driver only. section ii. _of parties and amusements._ we shall have but few things to say upon the manner of conducting one's-self in a party, for we should only repeat the advice we have already given as respects propriety in the carriage of the person, in visits, and in conversation. if a gentleman enters a drawing-room where there are more than ten persons, he should salute all generally, by a very respectful inclination of the head, and present his respects first to the lady of the house, but converse at first only with her husband; gentlemen usually stand in groups, while the ladies sitting, answer the salutation by a similar one; we should remark that the ladies do not rise, except in saluting one of their own sex. however distinguished a person may be, we do not allow conversation to be disturbed by their coming. they listen for a few moments while observing what persons are present, then mingle in the conversation, without pretending at all to monopolize it. when conversation is not general, nor the subject sufficiently interesting to occupy the whole company, they break up into different groups. each one converses with one or more of his neighbors on his right and left. we should, if we wish to speak to any one, avoid leaning upon the person who happens to be between. a gentleman ought not to lean upon the arm of a lady's chair, but he may, while standing, support himself by the back of it, in order to converse with the lady half turned towards him. it would be extremely impolite to converse in a loud voice with any one upon private subjects, to make use of allegories and particular allusions which are understood only by the person with whom you are conversing and yourself. it would be equally out of place to converse in a foreign language, with any one who might be able to speak it. it is not proper to withdraw in the midst of any conversation, but to wait until the subject in which you are engaged shall be finished; you then salute only the person with whom you have been talking, and depart without taking leave of any one, not even the gentleman and lady of the house. the mind has need of recreations; it cannot be always occupied. hence the custom of passing a few moments in those family and social parties, where we take part in the various amusements and games which have been invented to relax and divert the mind. it is useless to observe here that we do not mean to speak of those scandalous establishments in which are frequently swallowed up the resources of families, and where a person, led by an unhappy passion, may consume in one evening, enough to furnish an annual support for fifty orphans; we design to speak only of those innocent games, in which we are ambitious only of the glory of a triumph. to propose to play a deep game would be to expose ourselves to contempt. for, those who composed the assembly, would imagine that he who makes this request, has no other object in view but to enrich himself at the expense of others, and that he is accustomed to frequent those abominable houses of which we have just spoken. we should have a bad opinion of a player who, when he gained, should show excessive joy, and if he lost, should betray the least chagrin; for he ought to remember that it is only for amusement that he plays. conduct yourself without letting escape the least word of dissatisfaction, and be pleasant even if you are unfortunate. when you leave off playing, converse with your adversary, and not seem to avoid him, but especially never speak to him of his good luck in playing, unless it be with a frank gaiety, for otherwise you would seem to be inspired with anger. play with fairness, and do not endeavor to see the hand of your adversary in order to profit by it; pay attention to your game, and not hold conversation with others. this inattention would render you necessarily insupportable to those who play with you. if any play is contested, we should not discuss it with warmth, but refer to disinterested persons, explaining to them with calmness and politeness the point in dispute. in playing, we must always preserve an even temper; neither should we devote too much time to it, for then this amusement would become irksome, and would soon be changed to a fatiguing occupation. when the mistress of the house has prepared the tables for playing, she takes as many cards as each game requires players, and presents them to the persons present, beginning with the one whom she wishes especially to honor. to accept a card, is considered an engagement to play. the distribution of the players requires all the attention of the mistress of the house, for there are some persons not to be desired for partners. there are, besides, bad players, persons who being little accustomed to playing, stop a long time to think, bite their lips, strike their feet together under the table, drum upon the table with their fingers; pretend that such a person being near brings them bad luck, and request out of their turn to shuffle the cards, in order to change the luck, &c. the mistress of the house experiences, besides the embarrassment of arranging these unlucky players, sufficient trouble in keeping from the same table, those who have any antipathy to one another. when we commence playing, we salute, by an inclination of the head, the persons with whom we play, as we deal to them the first card. gentlemen should collect the cards at the end of each hand, shuffle, and present them to the lady who is to deal. we may, without impropriety, ask of any one if he plays such a game, even if he plays well; and we may ask those invited to play, whom they desire as partners. the most honorable set, namely, that in which the mistress of the house plays, can never be refused, unless we are unacquainted with playing. section iii. _little sports and games of society._ those sports, called innocent, generally please young persons of both sexes, because they excite an interest, while they require an exercise of the memory and of the mind. it is necessary, however, in this, as in everything else, to manifest attention, delicacy, and propriety. we ought not to endeavor to be noticed for our too great vivacity or freedom. we should be satisfied with showing our talent at playing in our turn, and taking part in the common gaiety, without pretension or too great zeal. we should especially avoid throwing out any vindictive remarks, bestowing misplaced compliments, or imposing forfeits which would cause mortification. a young gentleman ought never to seize a young lady by the body, catch hold of her ribband or bouquet, nor pay exclusive attention to the same person. he should be agreeable and pleasant towards all. the selection of different games belongs to the ladies. the person who receives the company, should be careful to vary them; and when she perceives that any game loses its interest, she should propose another. there are almost always persons in society who wish to take the lead, and give the _ton_; it is a caprice or fault which should be avoided. we may modestly propose any amusement, and ask the opinion of others in regard to it; but never pretend to dictate, nor even urge having our own proposal accepted. if it does not please generally, we should be silent, and resign ourselves with a good grace to the decisions of the majority. in these little sports, the penalties which are imposed, too often consist in embracing the ladies of the company; but as they cannot refuse, since you follow the rule of the game, take care to do it with such propriety, that modesty may not be offended. never prescribe any forfeiture which can wound the feelings of any one of the company. chapter iii. _of balls, concerts, and public shows._ these amusements presuppose a fortune, and good _ton_; the practice of society, therefore, and consequently a forgetfulness of the precepts of politeness in respect to them, would be truly preposterous. section i. _of balls._ i was going to say, let us begin with private balls; but i recollect that this denomination is no longer fashionable. we do not say, _a ball at madam such a one's_, but an evening party (_soirée_). nevertheless, when we wish to give a dance, we give the invitations a week beforehand, that the ladies may have time to prepare articles for their toilet. if it is to be a simple evening party, in which we may wear a summer walking dress, the mistress of the house gives verbal invitations and does not omit to apprise her friends of this circumstance, or they might appear in unsuitable dresses. if, on the contrary, the soirée is to be in reality a ball, the invitations are written, or what is better, printed, and expressed in the third person. a room appropriated for dresses, and furnished with cloak pins to hang up the shawls and other garments of the ladies, is almost indispensable. domestics should be there also to aid them in taking off and putting on their outside garments. we are not obliged to go exactly at the appointed hour; it is even fashionable to go an hour later. married ladies are accompanied by their husbands, unmarried ones, by their mother or by a _chaperon_. these last ladies place themselves behind the dancers; the master of the house goes before one and another, procures seats for them, and then mingles again among the gentlemen who are standing, and who form groups or walk about the room. the toilet of all the assembly should be made with great care. a gentleman who should appear in a riding-coat and boots, would pass for a person of bad _ton_. when you are sure of a place in the dance, you go up to a lady, and ask her if she will _do you the honor_ to dance with you. if she answers that she is engaged, invite her for the next dance, and take care not to address yourself afterwards to any ladies next to her, for these not being able to refuse you, would feel hurt at being invited after another. never wait until the signal is given to take a partner, for nothing is more impolite than to invite a lady hastily, and when the dancers are already in their places; it can be allowed only when the set is incomplete. a lady cannot refuse the invitation of a gentleman to dance, unless she has already accepted that of another, for she would be guilty of an incivility which might occasion trouble; she would besides seem to show contempt for him whom she refused, and would expose herself to receive an ill compliment from him. married or young ladies cannot leave a ball-room or any other party alone. the former should be accompanied by one or two other married ladies, and the latter by their mother, or by a lady to represent her. we should avoid talking too much; it would occasion remarks and have a bad appearance to whisper continually in the ear of our partner. the master of the house should see that all the ladies dance; he should take notice of those who seem to serve as _drapery_ to the walls of the ball-room, or _wall-flowers_, as the familiar expression is, and should see that they are invited to dance. he must do this wholly unperceived, in order not to wound the self-esteem of the unfortunate ladies. gentlemen whom the master of the house requests to dance with these ladies, should be ready to accede to his wish, and even appear pleased at dancing with a person thus recommended to their notice. ladies who dance much, ought to be very careful not to boast before those who dance but little or not at all, of the great number of dances for which they are engaged in advance. they should also, without being perceived, recommend to these less fortunate ladies, gentlemen of their acquaintance. in giving the hand for ladies' chain or any figures, those dancing should wear a smile, and accompany it with a polite inclination of the head, in the manner of a salutation. at the end of the dance, the gentleman re-conducts the lady to her place, bows and thanks her for the honor which she has conferred. she also curtsies in silence, smiling with a gracious air. in these assemblies, we ought to conduct ourselves with reserve and politeness towards all present, although they may be unknown to us. persons who have no ear for music, that is to say, a false one, ought to refrain from dancing. never hazard taking part in a quadrille unless you know how to dance tolerably. if you are a novice or but little skilled, you would bring disorder into the midst of pleasure. being once engaged to take part in the dance, if the figures are not familiar, be careful not to advance first. you can in this way govern your steps by those who go before you. beware also of taking your place in a set of dancers more skilful than yourself. when an unpractised dancer makes a mistake, we may apprise him of his error; but it would be very impolite to have the air of giving him a lesson. dance with grace and modesty; neither affect to make a parade of your knowledge; refrain from great leaps and ridiculous jumps which would attract the attention of all towards you. in a private ball or party, it is proper to show still more reserve, and not to manifest more preference for one lady than another; we should dance with all indiscriminately, but we may, moreover, invite the same lady more than once. in public balls, a gentleman offers his partner refreshments, which she very seldom accepts, unless she is much acquainted with him. but in private parties, the persons who receive the company, send round cake and other refreshments, of which each one helps himself as he pleases. near the end of the evening, in a well regulated ball, it is customary to have a supper, when the gentlemen stand behind the ladies who are seated. in a soirée without great preparation, we may dispense with a supper, but refreshments are necessary; and not to have them would be the greatest impoliteness. the waltz is a dance of quite too loose a character, and unmarried ladies should refrain from it in public and private; very young married ladies, however, may be allowed to waltz in private balls, if it is very seldom, and with persons of their acquaintance. it is indispensable for them to acquit themselves with dignity and decency. i have spoken of _public balls_, in contradistinction to private ones, and i might also have mentioned _balls by subscription_, for, in regard to the public balls of paris and other large cities, we have nothing to advise our readers but to shun them. as to masked balls, it is an amusement altogether to be condemned, except those of the opera. neither should we appear there except in a domino. we should retire _incognito_, not to disturb the master and mistress of the house; we should make them during the week, a visit of thanks, at which we may converse of the pleasure of the ball and of the good selection of the company. section ii. _of concerts._ the proprieties in deportment which concerts require, are little different from those which are recognized in every other assembly or in public exhibitions; for concerts partake of the one and the other, according as they are public or private. in private concerts, the ladies occupy the front seats, and the gentlemen are generally in groups behind, or at the side of them. one should observe the most profound silence, and refrain from beating time, humming the airs, applauding, or making ridiculous gestures of admiration. very often a dancing soirée succeeds a concert, and billets of invitation distributed two or three days beforehand should give notice of it to the persons invited. when a lady is going to perform, it is good _ton_ for a gentleman to stand behind the chair of the performer, and turn over the leaves attentively, if he knows how to read music. we ought also after an invitation to a concert, to return a visit of thanks. section iii. _of public shows or spectacles._ one would be deceived if he imagined that there exist no rules of propriety to be observed in public places, where persons assemble together, and at theatrical exhibitions. there are some general attentions which we should manifest to those persons whom we meet there. it would be impolite to jostle continually, and in an importunate manner, those near whom we are placed, to step upon the dress of a lady, or run against those who are moving at a moderate pace. if you go with a party to a theatrical entertainment, one of the gentlemen should carry the tickets to the door-keeper, in older to avoid any embarrassment to ladies on entering; and when the box is open, they should place them in the front row, according to their age, or the consideration they deserve. young persons should occupy the seats behind, and avoid leaning over too much, to the incommoding of those who are seated in front of them. gentlemen should address themselves to the attendants at the boxes, make them a compensation, and place under their care their hats, the cloaks and other articles of dress of the ladies; but we must not hang them over the boxes, whether it is a pocket-handkerchief, a tippet, or a shawl, &c.[ ] nor ought a person to turn his back to the stage; for in that case, he exposes himself to the derision of the pit, and to hear disagreeable remarks. then the eyes of all would be fixed upon you; your imprudence would excite a disturbance, which would be troublesome to the audience. when a spectator of kind feelings is affected at the sight of the misfortunes which the heroes of the play suffer, or has his sympathy touched by the virtues which are displayed, nothing can be more annoying to him, than to have constantly at his side, a morose critic, who, without mercy, finds fault with the finest parts of the performance, who sees nothing to his taste, and changes into a place of fatigue and ennui, resorts consecrated to amusement and pleasure. it is, moreover, almost as ridiculous to place no bounds to our applause. when ladies enter a box where a gentleman is seated in front of them, propriety requires that he should offer his seat, notwithstanding they are strangers to him, and he should insist upon their taking it, even after they have once refused. if the heat incommodes you, do not open the door of the box, without the consent of those who occupy it. be very reserved at the theatre, in order not to trouble those who are near you, and maintain a profound silence when the actors are on the stage, so as not to interrupt the attention of persons who take an interest in the spectacle. it is improper to pass too positive and severe a judgment on the performance, or the playing of the actors, whether to make a eulogium, or to find fault with them. one may meet persons of a contrary opinion, and engage himself in a controversy which it is prudent to avoid. between the acts, gentlemen should ask the ladies if it is agreeable to them to walk in the entries, the saloon, or to take refreshments. they should also ask them if they wish for a journal of the theatre or play bill, or an opera glass; and if bouquets are sold at the door of the theatre, it would be proper and gallant to present them with one. as soon as you have arrived at the outer door of the theatre, if in a carriage, you must take care to have your party all ready at the very moment the carriage drives up. it is necessary to do the same thing, if you send a porter to get a hired coach. [ ] in some of the theatres in paris, this is however allowed.--_t._ chapter iv. _of the duties of hospitality._ those of my readers who from habit, or instinct, fear the least appearance of constraint, and perhaps even in this work have found lessons of politeness too strict, and have thought that civilization has augmented them beyond measure, will without doubt apply the same remark to the present chapter. but what in reality are these slight duties of modern hospitality, in comparison to the rigorous ones of ancient times? when a billet of announcement has informed you, as is customary, that a preceding invitation on your part will bring guests to your house, you must begin and carefully arrange the apartment you intend for them. they should have a good bed, a bureau, a fire in the winter, and everything which can contribute to their comfort; a wash basin, water, glass tumblers, a bottle of cologne, a sugar bowl filled, or rather a glass of water prepared, several napkins, and everything which will contribute to neatness, or elegance, ought to be placed in the apartment. these preliminaries being arranged, a little before the appointed hour, we must go and wait upon our guests; a domestic should go with you to bring their baggage to the house. you should embrace your friends and congratulate them; express the pleasure you enjoy in receiving them, inquire kindly about the incidents of their journey, and conduct them in an earnest manner, and introduce them, by requesting them to make your house their home; this finishes the second series of the duties of hospitality. the third class of obligations, is assiduity to your guests; because otherwise, it would seem to them, that their presence was troublesome. to you belongs the care of kindly offering to their view everything in your house, in the city or in the country, which is interesting; of making parties in honor of them, as dinner parties of their friends, or such as it is presumed will please them; these are obligations of hospitality which you cannot omit. when visitors show any intention of leaving you, you ought affectionately to endeavor to retain them; nevertheless, if their resolution seems immovable, you send to engage their seats at the coach office; you offer them delicate refreshment, and accompany them thither; then, taking leave of them, renew your invitations for another visit, and your regret at not having been able to succeed better in retaining them. to do the honors of one's own house, it is necessary to have tact, address, knowledge of the world, and a great evenness of temper, and much affability. it is necessary to forget one's-self, in order to be occupied with others, but without hurry, or affectation; to encourage timid persons, and put them at their ease; to enter into conversation, directing it with address rather than sustaining it ourselves. the mistress of a house ought to be obliging, of an equal temper, and attentive in accommodating herself to the particular tastes of every one, especially to appear delighted that they are with her, and make themselves perfectly at home. guests, on their part, should show themselves contented and grateful for the reception that is given them. they should, on departing, give a generous remuneration to the domestics, and immediately after arriving at home, write to the persons who have entertained them a letter of cordial thanks. the duties of hospitality are of frequent recurrence, fatiguing and troublesome, but they are an indispensable obligation. to omit them, is to be willing to pass for a person of no education, and no delicacy, and in short it is to place people in a most embarrassing and painful situation. part iv. of propriety as regards other circumstances. chapter i. _of marriage and baptism._ these two subjects have peculiar right to the precepts of politeness; for the first is the closest of the social relations, and both furnish occasions for the most brilliant fêtes. section i. _of marriage.[ ]_ we usually make a profound secret of the preliminaries of marriage, because, in case of its being broken off, we are afraid of malicious interpretations; but, after the first words are exchanged, it is necessary to make it known in confidence to a few intimate friends, and those to whom we are under obligations. afterwards, we give intelligence of it by letter to our relations. a young man who solicits a lady in marriage, should be extremely devoted and respectful; he should appear a stranger to all the details of business which the two families discuss; he converses with his intended particularly of their future arrangements, her tastes, the selection of a residence, furniture, bridal presents, &c. avoiding all misplaced familiarity, he calls her _miss_ until returning from church, on the day of marriage; he accompanies her in all assemblies, and shows himself a devoted suitor. when the banns of matrimony have been published, it is customary at paris for a bouquet-maker to come to adorn the bride, presenting her with a bouquet. this attention requires a remuneration. the marriage is declared in two ways. we invite three or four days beforehand persons of our acquaintance to assist in the nuptial benediction, and we specify precisely the time and place where the ceremony will be performed. as to the legal act, which is performed by civil authority, we invite only witnesses and near relations. if a person is invited to assist at the repast or fête which follows the marriage, we make express mention of it at the bottom of the letters of invitation.[ ] we simply communicate the fact of the marriage to those who have been invited neither to the nuptial ceremony, nor to the entertainment. propriety requires that the person invited to the marriage ceremony should come, or send an excuse if it is impossible to be present. a simple letter of announcement to uninvited persons, requires only a visit or two; the first of which is made by card. presents are usually the preliminaries of a marriage: those which the gentleman makes his intended wife, are called _wedding presents_; they consist of different articles of the toilet, a set of diamonds, &c. some persons content themselves with sending a purse containing a sum of money in gold, for the purchase of these things: the young lady then spends it as she thinks proper. the married gentleman is moreover to make a present to each of the brothers and sisters of his intended. the young lady, on her part, gives some present to her bridemaid: she often presents her with a dress or some ornament, and she receives in her turn from the other, a girdle, gloves, and a bouquet of orange flowers. since we have spoken of marriage presents, we will add that at paris the married lady must receive a gift from her sisters and cousins, and that in the provincial towns, on the contrary, she must offer them some token. we will now pass to the ceremony: after the celebration of the legal act, which may be some days previous, the married couple, followed by their parents, commonly go to the church in the carriages which conducted them to the office where the legal act was performed; for at paris, whatever situation in life the parties may be in, they never go on foot. the married lady goes in one carriage with her relations and the bridemaid; the gentleman in another carriage with his father and mother, or his nearest relatives. the acquaintances of the two married persons, repair to the church at the appointed hour; the friends of the gentleman place themselves on the right, those of the lady on the left hand, on seats prepared beforehand. the marriage train then advances in the following order; the lady gives her hand to her father, or to one who represents him; then comes the gentleman with his mother, or the lady who represents her, and afterwards the members of the two families follow in couples. when the couple and their relations approach the altar, each of the persons present bows to them in silence; the relations place themselves in the same order as the acquaintances, and before the latter, in the front row, which should be reserved for them. the couple to be married are placed in the middle. although it is polite always to present the right hand to the lady whom we conduct, or to give her the right when we are next her, yet the bridegroom takes the right of the bride, because, in this act, which is at once religious and civil, man ought to preserve the prerogative which the law both human and divine have conferred upon him; besides, as the bridegroom is to place the nuptial ring on the finger of the bride, it is more convenient for him to be upon the right hand than the left. when the clergyman puts the questions to them, each should consult their relations by a respectful sign of the head, before answering the decisive _yes_. the veil is held over the head of the bride by two children whose parents we wish to compliment. the business of the bridemaid who has presided at the toilet of the bride, is to designate their places at the religious ceremony in church; and afterwards, at the ball, is to supply the place of the bride, who can take no active part; it is usually one of her sisters or a most intimate friend who is chosen for this purpose. the groomsman, for there should be one or even more, looks well to the list of those invited to the ceremony, to see what persons are absent, because it is the custom of married persons not to make the marriage visit to any one who has been guilty of this impoliteness. the married gentleman must give presents to the attendants at the church, the poor, &c. after the nuptial benediction, the married couple again salute the assembly, and then receive the compliments of each one. there are some families in a more humble situation, where the married lady is embraced by all at the marriage ceremony; in those in a higher station in life, she embraces only her father, her mother, and her new relations. the new husband gives his hand to his wife when returning from the church; nevertheless at dinner he should be placed between his mother and his mother-in-law, while his wife is to be seated between her father and father-in-law. in case there is a supper, the married couple sit next each other. the married lady opens the ball with the most distinguished person in the assembly; she retires privately, accompanied by her mother, and one or more near relations whom they wish to compliment. the newly married couple make marriage visits in the course of a fortnight, in a carriage, and in full dress. they should make these visits alone. they leave their cards for those with whom they do not wish to be intimate. such are the received usages in the capital. in the provinces, many of the old and common customs are preserved, as the gift of a laced shirt bosom to the husband by his wife; wedding favors or ribbands for the wife, ribbands of two colors with which they decorate the young persons in the marriage suite, &c. [ ] the greater part of the marriage ceremonies here described, are according to the usages of catholic countries, but some of them are applicable to our own; and it has been thought that it would be interesting to american readers to retain the whole as in the original.--_t._ [ ] these letters are usually duplicates, for the invitation should appear to be given by the parents of both the future couple. section ii. _of baptism.[ ]_ we must invite several months beforehand the godfather and godmother of the child that is to be baptized. if the ties of blood have given you a right to this onerous duty, you cannot dispense with it. if not, you can seek a specious excuse. when one has consented to hold the infant at the baptismal font, he should perform this duty in a becoming manner, and according to his own condition and that of the parents of the child. a present should be given to the mother, and this present usually consists of confectionary. we must also give one to the godmother, a pair of white gloves and comfits; if she is a young person, she commonly receives a bouquet of white flowers in addition. if the godfather wishes to show her any attention, he can add to the presents an elegant and valuable object, such as a fan; but in that case it is good _ton_ for the godmother to send in return some rich and tasteful present. she also has the honor of giving to the child a cap, and often a baptismal robe. to her also belongs the duty of putting the first dress on the child. the attendant and the nurse have also a present. the officers of the church, and the poor, should each receive a gratuity proportionate to their condition. we simply put a piece of money into the hands of the humbler persons; but we present the clergyman with a box of presents in which is enclosed a piece of gold or silver. persons of a very high class in order to free their friends from these expenses, send their domestics to present their children at the baptismal font. this is a most unbecoming custom; it seems to consider this holy consecration as a slavish ceremony, and destroys at its source the sentiment of respect and affection, that a godson or daughter should inspire in those who have adopted them before god. at whatever hour the ceremony is appointed, we go to the church in a carriage at the expense of the godfather. he and the godmother pass in first; then comes the infant borne by its nurse or a matron; then the father, who accompanies the other invited persons. it is the custom in many houses to give, after returning from the baptism, an elegant entertainment, of which the godfather and godmother receive all the honor. above all, they should give their godchild new year's gifts while it is a child, and manifest their affection during the whole of its life. [ ] most of the observances which follow, as well as those in the section on marriage, have more particular reference to the forms of the catholic and episcopal churches.--_t._ chapter ii. _of duties toward the unfortunate._ propriety, the guide of all our relations, cannot remain a stranger to the unfortunate; that which takes possession of all our sentiments, cannot forget to pity. it is in this light that it is peculiarly touching, that it is almost religious, since it even contributes to bind closer this first, this powerful tie of humanity. section i. _of duties toward the sick, infirm, and unfortunate._ when any one of your acquaintance is ill, you should regularly send a domestic, to inquire after their health, every day, or every other day, according to the virulence and nature of the disease. if there is immediate danger, we should send to inquire even twice a day. from time to time, you should send to know whether the sick person can see any one, because in that case you must go and testify in person, all your interest. you should continue to obtain information about their health until their recovery or death. our visits to the sick should be very short, silent, and reserved. we should address to them words of interest in a low voice, and speak softly to the member of the family who takes charge of them. we ask him who is his physician, what is the treatment; we urge every motive of consolation and hope; we ought hardly to reply to the questions the person in attendance asks, with regard to our own health, or business, and we retire reiterating the proofs of our interest. if the person is convalescent or only indisposed, you address a thousand questions concerning their complaints; you sympathize with them, praise their patience, and describe to them the pleasant image of returning health. you must be on your guard not to say that you find their features much changed, that their recovery may be slow, &c. to speak these truths is very mal-apropos, and with reason; you would pass for having an unfeeling heart, or, rather, a limited understanding. when sufferings and troubles assume a virulent aspect, and resist all the efforts of medical skill, they are infirmities indeed, and a silence the most absolute and rigorous with respect to them, should be observed. not only ought you never to speak to an infirm person of his misfortune, but you should also carefully avoid mentioning any person who is afflicted in the same way, and of thus alluding indirectly to his own case. the only occasion when this is allowed, is where you can make it appear to him that the comforts of which he is deprived are not so permanent but that you have experienced similar inconveniences from the same cause. thus to a lame person, you might say that you yourself are fatigued with walking, that your own legs are not firm, &c. if the infirmity is not too visible, and the poor subject speaks to you of it, assure him earnestly that you should not have observed it. if he complains to you, offer him motives of consolation, and take care that you change the subject of conversation before he does, for you might make him think that you are importuning him about his malady. finally, do all in your power to comfort him. if he is afflicted with imperfect sight, place objects near him, but without affectation, and without having the air of making him think that he requires your assistance, neither permit him to thank you. if he is troubled with deafness, you must not speak unreasonably loud; bring back the attention of the unfortunate person to the subject of your conversation by skilful and delicate transitions, and not abruptly say to him, _we were speaking of such a thing_. this is much trouble, perhaps you will say. trouble to console people! why, you take more to please them! persons who are reduced in circumstances, keep up in their misfortune (at least in society) their habits of opulence; and to manage with such persons requires not a little skill. if they invite you to their frugal repasts, if they offer you any presents, let not the fear of occasioning them expense, induce you to refuse with warmth, and with obstinacy; you would wound them deeply. accept them, and seek an opportunity of repaying with interest, these proofs of their politeness. do not speak to them first of their sad situation; but if they introduce the subject themselves, receive their confidence with a respectful and affectionate attention. show how much you are affected with that which grieves them, and without forgetting discretion, endeavor, in appearance at least, to render them confidence for confidence. section ii. _of funerals and mourning._ when we lose any one of our family, we should give intelligence of it to all persons who have had relations of business or friendship with the deceased. this letter of _announcement_ usually contains an invitation to assist at the service and burial. on receiving this invitation, we should go to the house of the deceased, and follow the body as far as the church. we are excused from accompanying it to the burying-ground, unless it be a relation, a friend, or a superior. if we go as far as the burying-ground, we must give the first carriages to the relations or most intimate friends of the deceased. we should walk with the head uncovered, silently, and with a sad and thoughtful mien. relations ought not, from considerations of propriety, to give themselves up too much to their grief. you will owe a visit to persons who have invited you, if you have not been able to accept their invitation. if you have attended the ceremony, then they are the ones that owe the visit. at an interment or funeral service, the members of the family are entitled to the first places; they are nearest to the coffin, whether in the procession, or in the church. the nearest relations go in a full mourning dress. it is not customary at paris for women to follow the procession; and, nowhere do they go quite to the grave, unless they are of a low class. a widower or a widow, a father or mother, are not present at the interment, or funeral service of those whom they have lost. the first are presumed not to be able to support the afflicting ceremony; the second ought not to show this mark of deference. there are two kinds of mourning, the full and the half mourning. the full mourning is worn for a father, mother, grandfather, grandmother, husband, wife, brother and sister. it is divided into three periods.[ ] for the first six weeks, we wear only woollen garments; in the six weeks following, we wear silk, and the three last months, we mingle white with the black. half mourning is worn for uncles, aunts, cousins, and second cousins. the first fortnight we wear black silk, and the last week, white mixed with black. custom requires that a woman should wear mourning for her husband a year and six weeks, while that of a widower is only six months. this difference, which may appear singular, is founded upon reasons of convenience and social relations. in the three first months of mourning for her husband, a woman wears only woollen garments; the six first weeks, her head dress and neck-kerchief are black crape or gauze; in the six following weeks, they are white crape or linen. the next six months, she dresses in black silk; in winter, gros de naples; in summer, taffetas. head dress, white crape. the three last months, she wears black and white, and the six last weeks, white only. the mourning on the death of a wife, is a black cloth coat without buttons,[ ] dark shoes, woollen hose, black buckles, and a sword-knot of crape, if the person carries one. at the end of six weeks, we may wear a black coat with buttons, black silk hose, silver buckles, and a black ribband upon the sword. the half mourning of the three last months is a black coat, a sword and silver buckles, white silk stockings, and a sword-knot of black and white. it is altogether contrary to propriety to select for yourself at the shops the articles of mourning, to have them made in your presence, or to make them yourself; and, for a fortnight at least, and sometimes even for the six first weeks, ladies ought not to sew, even while receiving their relations and intimate friends, so much are they supposed to be depressed by their affliction. during forty days we do not leave the house, except to go to church; it would be very improper to visit, dine out, or go to any assembly during the first mourning. when this time has expired, we make visits of mourning, and go out a little more, but we cannot yet appear in public promenades, at spectacles or balls; we cannot sing, even at home. it is only at the time of half mourning that we resume by degrees our former habits of life. for ten days at least, after the death of a very near relation, it would be very reprehensible for people whose profession recalls ideas of pleasure, as musicians, or dancing masters, to return to their employment. in full mourning, we should wear neither curls nor perfumes. to be present at a funeral, or even to look at one passing, are forbidden at this time. attending a funeral service, other than that of a relation, is equally prohibited. excepting during this period, it is impolite not to attend when invited to the funeral service of your acquaintances. you should appear there in mourning. at the funeral service, as well as at the interment, the male relatives go first, and then those invited; the female relatives go next, and are followed by other ladies. if we marry a person who is in mourning, we put on black the day after our marriage; the time preceding is reckoned as if the mourning had been worn. on the contrary, if we ourselves are married again at a time when the death of a relation by our former marriage requires this sombre dress, we leave it off immediately, since our new union annuls the former alliance. visits which are paid to persons in mourning, are called visits of condolence. in making them, we observe silence, and never inquire about their health; this would be out of place. a gentleman offers them his hand, a lady embraces them, even though they are but slightly acquainted. we refrain from conversing on too gay or personal subjects. if we are at a distance, we testify by letter our sympathy in the misfortune which afflicts them. their grief cannot excuse them from answering us, but it is not immediately necessary. with this subject, we shall conclude our treatise of politeness; hoping that, having arrived at this point, our readers may say, 'without any doubt the work is full and methodical;' we shall not dare to flatter ourselves with more, but this is enough, for it is being sure that our labor has been useful. we trust then that we have rendered an essential service to youth, in making them acquainted with these rules, which have become so necessary; in truth, politeness, on which at the present day we pride ourselves, is a virtue which we ought never to renounce, since it gives to the intercourse of life, that sweetness, pleasure, elegance and charm which can be truly felt only by those who possess it. as the intellectual madam lambert has said, 'politeness is the desire of pleasing those with whom we are obliged to live, and in a manner causing all around us to be satisfied with us; superiors, with our respect; equals, with our esteem; and inferiors, with our kindness.' [ ] several of the particulars which follow, are not observed in this country.--_t._ [ ] it is not the custom among us to dispense with buttons.--_t._ transcriber's notes inconsistent hyphenation retained as originally printed (à-propos/àpropos, fire-place/fireplace, re-conduct/reconduct) inconsistent and archaic spelling retained as originally printed (visitor/visiter, every thing/everything, ancle, accessary, bridemaid, inquiet, pantomine, secrecy, synonyme) the cynic's rules of conduct the cynic's rules _of_ conduct by chester field, jr. philadelphia henry altemus company copyright, , by henry altemus entered at stationers' hall the cynic's rules of conduct go to the aunt, thou sluggard, and offer her ten off on your legacy for spot cash. the difference between a bad break and a _faux pas_ indicates the kind of society you are in. when alone in paris behave as if all the world were your mother-in-law. [illustration] remember, too, that perhaps you are not the sort of husband that father used to make. you may refer to her cheeks as roses, but the man who sends her american beauties will leave you at the post. a woman should dress to make men covetous and women envious. [illustration] even cupid crosses his fingers at what he hears by moonlight. after marriage you may speak of her temper; but during courtship you had better refer to it as temperament. when dinners entice thee consent thou not. [illustration] the position of the hostess should be at the doorway of the drawing-room to receive her guests. the position of her husband should be at his office desk making the money to pay for the blow-out. it is safer to do business with jailbirds than with relatives. discuss family scandals before the servants. we should always be kind to the lower classes. [illustration] when children paw a visitor's gown with their candied fingers the proper observation for the mother to make is: "my children are so affectionate." reprimand your servants before your guests. it shows your authority. the chief duty of the best man is to prevent the groom from escaping before the ceremony. [illustration] in marching up the aisle to the altar the bride carries either a bunch of flowers or a prayer book. her father carries a bunch of money or a cheque book. on returning from the altar be careful not to step on the bride's train. there's trouble enough ahead without that. don't blow your own horn when you can get some one else to blow it for you. [illustration] keep your servants in good humor, if you can--but keep your servants. your conduct in an elevator should be governed by circumstances. should the lady's husband remove his hat keep yours on. should he fail to remove it, take your hat off. this will embarrass him. never put in the collection box less than ten per cent. of the amount you tip your waiter at luncheon. [illustration] at afternoon funerals wear a frock coat and top hat. should the funeral be your own, the hat may be dispensed with. it is never in good taste to indulge in personal pleasantries, such as referring to a lady's artificial teeth as her collection of porcelains. beware of the man who never buys a gold brick. the chances are that he sells them. [illustration] indorse checks about two inches from the end. don't indorse notes at all. no house should be without its guest-chamber. besides giving one's home an air of hospitality, it makes an admirable store-room for dilapidated furniture and unspeakable pictures. there is only one worse break than asking a woman her age: it is looking incredulous when she tells it. [illustration] it is not good form to rehearse your domestic difficulties in public, but it is mighty interesting to your auditors. never leave a guest alone for a moment. force your entertainment upon him even if you have to use chloroform. if you would have a serene old age never woo a girl who keeps a diary. [illustration] when you are inclined to be haughty, remember that a cook in the kitchen is worth two in the employment office. a chef is a cook who gets a salary instead of wages. it is better form for a bride to take her wedding journey with the groom than with the coachman. [illustration] under no circumstances associate with persons who wear detachable cuffs. such men are usually trying to get rich at the expense of the washerwoman. when crossing the atlantic no gentleman will rock the boat. take care of the luxuries and the necessities will take care of themselves. [illustration] those who live in glass houses should be polite to reporters. when in a hurry to get to the poor house, take the road that leads through the bucket shop and passes the race track. condensed milk should be used in a small flat. [illustration] tell your rich relations how fast you are making money--your poor ones, how fast you are losing it. in taking soup try not to give others the impression that the plumbing is out of order. when giving a studio tea, remember that there should be soft lights and hard drinks. [illustration] eschew the race-track and the roulette table. faro is a squarer game than either. beware of indiscriminate charity. you will never get your name in the paper by giving a tramp the price of a meal. before marriage the fashionable tint for eyeglasses is rose; after marriage smoked glasses should be worn. [illustration] if you would make a lifelong friend of a man who lives in a hall bedroom, accuse him of leading a double life. no sportsman will shoot craps during the closed season. compliments paid a woman behind her back go farthest and are remembered longest. [illustration] avoid having business relations with a man whose i. o. u. is not as good as his note; but take his note by preference. when playing poker, it is as bad form to wear a coat as it is to be shy. the father gives the bride away, but the small brother would like to. [illustration] in the best society it is considered snobbish to wear a disguise when entertaining country cousins. simply take them to places where you will not encounter your friends. at the tables of the very wealthy, brook trout have given place to gold fish. to get on in society a woman should cultivate repose--and a few prominent social leaders. [illustration] when angry count ten before you speak. when "touched" count one thousand before you lend. in entering a crowded car, a lady should leave the door open. it is quite permissible for her to appropriate the seat of the man who gets up to close it. if your friend asks you to lend him your evening clothes, hide your toothbrush without delay. [illustration] never leave the price tag on the present, unless it is a very expensive present. at a formal dinner the hostess should see that raw oyster forks should be placed alongside the plates. if she hasn't any raw oyster forks she may use cooked ones. you should bear in mind that to be kind to your employees, it is not absolutely essential that you kiss the stenographer every morning. [illustration] if you would be thought a fool, play with a loaded pistol; if a knave, with loaded dice. let the reign of your summer girl be no longer than her bathing suit. it is coarse for a divorcée to refer to her ex-husband as the late mr. so-and-so. she should speak of him as, "my husband once removed." [illustration] every investor should have a ward. a ward's estate is a great convenience in unloading financial indiscretions. avoid church fairs. it hurts less to be stung by the scoffers than by the faithful. people who think that newspaper advertisements are not read should watch a man sitting in a street car where women are standing. [illustration] at a formal dinner, one may serve five different wines; but no indifferent ones. when in the street with a lady, a gentleman should not light a cigarette unless the lady does. a man will let go his religion before he parts with his respectability. [illustration] an engagement ring should not be passed around like "the buck" in a poker game. "new girl, new ring," is the rule in select society. dresses that look as if they had set the wearer's father back more than $ should always be referred to as "frocks." ladies should not wear garden hose except at garden parties. [illustration] men will lose their reputations as gay deceivers when women are less willing to be deceived. when at a wedding breakfast try to remember that you will probably have other opportunities of drinking champagne. remember that your wife's wardrobe is the bradstreet in which women look for your rating. [illustration] one of the joys of wealth is the right to preach the virtues of poverty. at a wedding married women cry because they've been through it and unmarried women for fear they won't. if a man's worth doing at all, he's worth doing well. [illustration] when you end a letter "please burn this," post it in the fireplace. when you start out to "do" wall street buy a return ticket. never refer to your indisposition as _mal de coeur_ when it is _mal de liqueur_. [illustration] cure your wife of bargain-shopping and you will have more money for bucket-shopping. encourage your husband to go to his club. otherwise, you will miss a lot of gossip that you can use in your business. the mother-in-law joke was invented by a bachelor. to the married man the mother-in-law is no joke. [illustration] it is not good form for a young girl to go to the theatre with a gentleman, unaccompanied by a chaperone. on the other hand, it is not good fun for her to go to the theatre with a chaperone, unaccompanied by a gentleman. no gentleman will strut about his club with his hat on. there is no rule, however, against his having a jag on. [illustration] when you step on a lady's toes make some offhand remark about her feet being too small to be seen. this is older than the cave dwellers; but it still works. when organizing a friendly poker party, don't invite friends. settle an allowance on your wife and you'll always know where to borrow money. [illustration] strict convention decrees that if a young girl accepts from a man any gift more valuable than sweets, flowers or tips on the races, she shall not mention the fact to her mother. a corkscrew is not the only symbol of hospitality. when you catch your caller kissing the maid, remind her that the kitchen is the proper place to entertain her friends. [illustration] don't forget to tell her that she's "not like other girls." it always works, whether you spring it on the belle of the village, the girl with a hare lip or the bearded lady at the circus. spaghetti should be eaten only in the bath-tub. if you _must_ have your hand held, go to a manicure. [illustration] the difference between bigamy and divorce is the difference between driving a double hitch and driving tandem. never tell secrets to women. if you must talk about them, buy a megaphone. don't tell a girl that she looks best when wearing a veil. she may not understand what you mean. [illustration] take your servants into your confidence. you'll always get a lot of interesting information about your neighbors. it is a mistake to regard your linen as the leopard does his spots. some girls want a home wedding; most girls want a church wedding; all girls want a wedding. [illustration] if you use the same solitaire for the second engagement, don't refer to it as killing two birds with one stone. cultivate cheerfulness in your household; money makes the _mère_ go. at sunday night bridge parties no really nice girl will cheat. [illustration] the way to save doctor's bills is not to pay them. only a specialist would think of suing you. when you see a girl drowning, look before you leap. on your way to the altar, do not wear the expression of a man mendelssohning into the jaws of death. try to look as if your salary had just been raised. [illustration] debutantes should never attend prize fights unchaperoned. in paying your fare always take your time. it annoys the conductor. oysters are served after cocktails, soup after oysters, game after decomposition sets in. [illustration] when choosing a wife shut your eyes; it's a sporting chance, because after all your wife is choosing you. the man who buys a gold brick hates to feel lonesome. the race is not always to the swift, though the smart set thinks it is. [illustration] when attending an afternoon tea or musicale do not forget to leave a card. the social standing of your hostess determines whether it shall be a face card or a twospot. besides leaving a card, leave all the small articles of value that you may find lying about in the dressing room. it is not necessary to throw rice at a departing bride and groom. the cab is already full of mush. [illustration] in proposing to a girl always refer to your own unworthiness. she won't believe it at the time nor will you a few years later. sweet are the uses of adversity to the gentlemen who conduct loan offices. when matching dollars, remember that two heads are better than one. [illustration] at automobile funerals, the chauffeurs should be directed to play the dead march on the french tooters. the effect is very refined. drug store beauty isn't even skin-deep. don't enter into a gentleman's agreement, if you're a gentleman. [illustration] wild oats make poor breakfast-food. it is always good form to talk about nausea when caused by seasickness; but never otherwise. when your face is too full for utterance speak to her only with your eyes. [illustration] show kindness to your creditors, but not unremitting kindness. suspect the man who wants only a small loan; a little touch is a dangerous thing. don't marry for money; but never let money stand between a girl and her happiness. [illustration] "conservative dressers," as the tailors call them, have discarded the night-cap except for internal use. when in rome do the romans. don't buy for your daughter a count that is likely to turn out a discount. [illustration] eat, drink and be merry, for to-morrow you may be married. it is not good form to congratulate a girl friend upon her engagement. simply remark, "so you landed him at last." pay no obvious compliments. a beautiful woman has her mirror. [illustration] if you can afford the right sort of lawyer you won't need any rules of conduct. [the end] [illustration] transcriber's notes: in this text, a caret character indicates that the following letter is superscripted in the original. other notes follow the text. the humanist's library edited by lewis einstein viii galateo of manners and behaviours a renaissance courtesy-book galateo of manners & behaviours by giovanni della casa with an introduction by j. e. spingarn grant richards ltd. london copyright, , by d. b. updike a table of contents introduction ix the dedication commendatory verses the treatise of master jhon della casa bibliographical note introduction one day, in rome, about the middle of the sixteenth century, the bishop of sessa suggested to the archbishop of benevento that he write a treatise on good manners. many books had touched the subject on one or more of its sides, but no single book had attempted to formulate the whole code of refined conduct for their time and indeed for all time. and who could deal with the subject more exquisitely than the archbishop of benevento? as a scion of two distinguished florentine families (his mother was a tornabuoni), as an eminent prelate and diplomatist, an accomplished poet and orator, a master of tuscan prose, a frequenter of all the fashionable circles of his day, the author of licentious capitoli, and more especially as one whose morals were distinctly not above reproach, he seemed eminently fitted for the office of arbiter elegantiarum. so it was that some years later, in disfavour with the new pope, and in the retirement of his town house in venice and his villa in the marca trivigiana, with a gallant company of gentlemen and ladies to share his enforced but charming leisure, the archbishop composed the little book that had been suggested by the bishop of sessa, and that, as a compliment to its "only begetter," bears as a title his poetic or academic name. there have been modern scholars who have wondered that so eminent a prelate, and so austere and passionate a lyric poet (for the licentious capitoli were best forgotten), "should have thought it worthy of his pains to formulate so many rules of simple decency," descending even to such trifles as the use of the napkin, the avoidance of immodest topics, and the details of personal apparel. it might, however, be pointed out that it is just because such distinguished men as our archbishop formulated these details for us in the renaissance that they have become part and parcel of our social code; that to quarrel with the archbishop on this score were not unlike quarrelling with euclid because he formulated laws of geometry which mathematicians nowadays leave to schoolboys; and that the serious preoccupation with manners, characteristic of the middle ages and the renaissance, made it possible for modern european society to form an organic social whole, with a model of the finished gentleman, more or less the same in all countries and all periods. but the fact is that it is the didactic form and tone, and not the content, of the archbishop's treatise with which our modern taste has its quarrel. if books on etiquette are no longer in fashion, it is not because preoccupation with the details of social conduct has ceased, but because we no longer express it in the form of rules or codes. our plays, our novels, our essays, are mosaics of reflections on the very things that interested the courts and coteries of the renaissance. when a modern writer wishes to enforce the idea that such apparent trifles are of real concern, he no longer says: "it is important that every young man should pay careful heed to the little tricks of manners," but he puts into the mouth of one of his characters, as mr. galsworthy does, such a speech as this: "for people brought up as we are, to have different manners is worse than to have different souls.... how are you going to stand it; with a woman who----? it's the little things." the archbishop of benevento, if permitted to read passages like this in modern plays and essays, would recognize his own ideas in all of them; he could point to dialogues and discourses of his own time in which dogmatic precepts were in like manner disguised as witty and elegant conversation; but because he was the product of an age of formal treatises, exquisitely written, he would have insisted on his right to state precepts as precepts, and to sum them up in such a rounded code as he has given us in the "galateo." the "galateo," then, is a summary of the refined manners of the later renaissance. for centuries such books had been written, but out of them, and from the practices of his own age, della casa attempted to select the essential details, and to develop, for the first time, a norm of social conduct,--in a book, above all, that should be a work of art, and should conform to all the graces and elegancies of tuscan speech. the details are subordinated to a philosophy of manners, which is lightly sketched, on the assumption that subtle reasoning would be unintelligible to the youthful auditor to whom the precepts are theoretically addressed, but which has an importance of its own, as characteristic of the attitude of a whole epoch. when della casa calls good manners "a virtue, or something closely akin to virtue," he is making a mere concession to the ideals of his day. the moralists of the later renaissance, or catholic reaction, felt it necessary to defend every social practice on the ground of its real or imaginary relation to virtue, as the only thing which can ever justify anything to a moralist. so the sixteenth century theorists of "honour" called honour a form of virtue; those who argued about the nature of true nobility made it to consist of virtue (a theory, indeed, as old as menander and juvenal); just as the moralists of the middle ages had justified "love" by calling it a virtue, too. for della casa, however, the real foundation of good manners is to be found in the desire to please. this desire is the aim or end of all manners, teaching us alike to follow what pleases others and to avoid what displeases them. this is a far cry from virtue, which in its very essence would seem to be divorced from the idea of conciliating the moods or whims of those about us; unless we assume that perhaps the slight personal sacrifice involved in yielding to such whims was the only form of virtue which a fashionable prelate might care to recognize. in order to give pleasure, we are told, it is essential to pay heed to the way a thing is done as well as to what is done; it is not enough to do a good deed, but it must be done with a good grace. that is to say, good manners are concerned with the form which actions take, as morals are concerned with their content; and from the social standpoint, the manner as well as the content of an act must be passed upon in any judgement of it. and, finally, if the desire to please is the aim of good manners, the guide, or test, or norm is common usage or custom, which no less than reason furnishes the laws of courtesy, and which in a sense may be said to be the equivalent in manners of what duty is in morals. it will be seen that della casa does not concern himself with that conception of manners which relates it to a sense of personal dignity, and which is summed up in locke's dictum that the foundation of good breeding is "not to think meanly of ourselves and not to think meanly of others." this side of the social ideal was summed up for the later renaissance in the term "honour," which formed the theme of many separate treatises in the sixteenth century. the "galateo" deals solely with those little concessions to the tastes and whims of those around us which are necessitated by the fact that cultivated gentlemen are not hermits, and must consider the customs and habits of others if they wish to form part of a smoothly organized and polished society. we may prefer to call this "considerateness for the feelings of others," but, essentially, most justifications of good manners depend on the same idea of conciliating the accidental and immediate circle in which we happen to move, at the expense of wider interests or larger groups; and both "considerateness" and "the desire to please" fail as justifications, or at least as incitements, as soon as the idea of success within a definite circle is eliminated or submerged. it is unnecessary, however, to break so fragile a butterfly as della casa's philosophy on any wheel of serious argument. he is interested solely in the superficial aspects of life, and an intricate or consistent philosophy would have served no other purpose than to alienate or confuse minds concerned, like his own, solely with life on its superficial side. on the basis of such ideas,--to please others; to win their good graces and one's own ultimate success; to be sweetly reasonable in conforming to custom; to perform every act with an eye to its effect on those about us,--on the basis of ideas as elementary yet appealing as these, he formulates in detail the precepts of conduct for daily human intercourse in a refined society. in the first place, there are the things that are to be avoided because they offend the senses. coughing, sneezing, or yawning in someone's face, greediness or carelessness in eating, and various sides of our physical life fall within this category. we are not only to avoid indiscretion in such matters, but we are to refrain from mentioning in conversation whatever might be indelicate as a physical act. in the second place, there are other indiscretions that have no such basis in the mere senses, and refer solely to the mental attitude or to the mere personal pride of our neighbours. to read a letter or to fall asleep in company, to turn your back to your neighbour, to be careless about one's way of standing or sitting, to be absent-minded or touchy about trifles, are social sins of this second kind. the art of conversation was the mainstay of social life in the italian renaissance, and to it della casa naturally, at this point, devotes most of his attention. to be obscene, or blasphemous, or too subtle; to dwell on inappropriate things (as when repeating a friar's sermon to a young lady); to brag or lie; to be too ceremonious or too servile; to tell a story awkwardly or to mention indelicate matters without some polite periphrasis;--these are some of the chief sins against this art of arts. there is very much that is modern in the diatribe against the ceremoniousness that was then creeping into italy from spain, for sixteenth century venice was not unlike nineteenth century england in its preference for ease and simplicity, and a grave and reasonable charm of manner. finally, there are the details of individual conduct dictated essentially by custom, without apparent regard to the physical comfort or personal pride of those about us; and under this third heading, della casa summarizes the various problems of personal apparel, table manners, and the like. della casa invents no new laws for conduct, deduces no new theories of courtesy or manners; even the details are to be found in many of his mediaeval and renaissance predecessors. what he adds, in precept or dictum or anecdote, is the fruit both of his own social experience and of his classical studies. his book is, like castiglione's "cortegiano" and sannazzaro's "arcadia," almost a mosaic of greek and latin borrowings. aristotle's "nicomachean ethics," plutarch's moral treatises, the "characters" of theophrastus, and the moral and rhetorical works of cicero are the chief sources, although none of these books is devoted solely, like his, to the superficial conduct of men among their equals and superiors. but even to these he adds something that was born out of those refinements of life which in renaissance italy had been developed more highly than elsewhere, and had made the fashions of urbino, mantua, and ferrara the models of all courts and coteries, wherever the renaissance gained a foothold beyond the alps. in the courts and cities of italy, combining alike the atmosphere of the mediaeval court and the ancient city,--combining, that is to say, "courtoisie" and "civilitas" (urbanitas),--the modern "gentleman," as distinguished from his classical or romantic forbears, may be said to have been born. "courtesy," as its very name indicates, is the flowering of that spirit which first shone in the little courts of mediaeval provence and france, but which did not, perhaps, find its most complete expression, as a philosophy of life, until castiglione wrote the "cortegiano" at the beginning of the sixteenth century. by that time the small court was already beginning to give way to the larger court or the cultivated coterie as the overwhelming centre of social influence in europe, although the glory of ferrara and mantua and urbino did not wane for two or three generations. but even before castiglione's day the more humane and graceful of courtly manners had spread beyond the confines of courts; and almost before he was dead, the name "courtesy," in so far as it still suggested a definite locus, no longer expressed the new wide range of polished manners. other words crept into cultivated speech, so that, by the first half of the seventeenth century, we find in a little french treatise on manners, the "loix de la galanterie," four distinct terms for man regarded simply as a creature of social manners,--courtisain, honnête homme, galant, and homme du monde. the first of these, as described by castiglione, seemed to this author italianate and obsolete, and the second, which had just furnished the title to a treatise on "l'honnête homme, ou l'art de plaire à la cour," still retained something of its original moral significance, so that "gallant" and "man of the world" summed up, best of all, the social qualities of the life of the day. it is no longer the court but the "monde" about which social life centres, not that other men do not belong to the world (as this author naïvely explains), but because we are concerned solely with that great world which is the home of fashion. this was the age of précieux and précieuses, and their code was no longer that of the court of urbino, as it flourished in castiglione's day; it was the over-refined manners of the academies and coteries of siena and ferrara during the later sixteenth century that furnished all that was essential in french préciosité. for the moment "gallantry" sufficed to express good manners; but gradually it too became obsolete, and the latin term "civility," with its inclusion of all civil society rather than any group or class, superseded both "gallantry" and "courtesy." "courtois is scarcely any longer used in cultivated conversation," callières, a french wit of the end of the seventeenth century, tells us, "just as civilité has replaced courtoisie." indeed, the word "courtoisie" no longer finds a place in any but elevated or poetic language in france to-day; and english speech, which has retained it after its original meaning has been lost, now finds it necessary to distinguish between the courtly and the courteous, by the former suggesting the content of what once, at least in part, belonged to the latter. it is the "civilitas" of ancient rome no less than the "civilité" of seventeenth century france that is summed up in the "galateo." as castiglione expresses the courtly ideals of the middle ages and the renaissance, so della casa expresses the ideals of manners no longer restricted to courts and courtiers, but common to all cultivated civilians, the manners that were to form the basis of the european code from that time to this. a long line of italian predecessors had prepared the way for its coming. indeed, every encyclopaedia, every romance of chivalry of the middle ages, contains precepts which find a place in its pages. in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, provence and italy had already begun to furnish books on such subjects. the "breviari d'amor" of matfre ermengaud includes instruction in social conduct; the italian, bonvesin da riva, had written a treatise on "fifty courtesies of the table;" francesco da barberino had dealt at length with "the manners and behaviour of women;" still later, sulpizio verulano had written a treatise on the table manners of children, which had found currency beyond the alps; and most influential of all, the great erasmus, in , had dealt at length with children's manners in his "de civilitate morum puerilium libellus." della casa follows tradition, or is moved by the example of erasmus, to the extent of representing his book as the discourse of an old man to a young one; but this is a mere subterfuge, and neither youth nor age figures in the precepts that follow. unlike his predecessors, he is concerned not merely with children, or with women, or with the ideals of a narrow class like the courtier, or with the general moral life of which manners are only an ornament or a garment. he has written a book that touches on the essentials of good manners as they affect all classes and groups which aim at individual perfection,--not merely the young, but the mature; not merely men or women, but both sexes; not merely the courtier, but all cultivated classes. in this sense, it is the first of its kind. it is a trifling and perhaps negligible kind, but at least this much distinction belongs to the book. the "galateo" is a product of the catholic reaction. it is one of the results of the casuistry and the scholastic spirit which in every field of intellectual activity were applied to the life and art that had found creative expression in the age of the renaissance. what the renaissance did or wrote, the catholic reaction reasoned about, codified, and stereotyped. the creative poetry of the renaissance was reduced to formulae in the treatises on the art of poetry of the later sixteenth century; politics and history found reasoned expression in treatises on political theory and historical method; and in similar fashion, the social life of earlier italy resulted in this age in treatises on the practice and theory of society. it would be idle to catalogue the various examples of this curious intellectual activity, for the works of the sixteenth century dealing with this subject may be numbered by hundreds, indeed by thousands. there were of course treatises on court life and the ideals of the courtier, from the "cortegiano" of castiglione to the discourses of domenichi and tasso; treatises on honour and the duel, of which possevino's "dell'onore" is the type; treatises on the gentleman, his nature, his education, and his occupations, like "il gentiluomo" of muzio justinipolitano, the quality of which may be tasted in english in peacham's "compleat gentleman;" treatises on love and the relations of the sexes, all summed up in equicola's encyclopaedic "libro di natura d'amore;" treatises on social amusements, parlor games, and the like, such as scipione bargagli's "i trattenimenti" and ringhieri's "cento giuochi liberali e d'ingegno;" treatises on conversation, like guazzo's "civil conversatione;" and finally, a large number of treatises on the education of women and children. among all these the "cortegiano," one of the earliest, stands out preëminently, just because it is the spontaneous product of the age of which it is also a reasoned expression; that is to say, because it is a work of art of the renaissance rather than a mere scholastic treatise of the catholic reaction. it is in no sense a courtesy-book; it is concerned with principles of social conduct rather than with details of etiquette. but of all the mere courtesy-books, the "galateo" alone survives; its name is current coin in italian speech to-day; and in the eighteenth century dr. johnson coupled it with the "cortegiano" as "two books yet celebrated in italy for purity and elegance." a french scholar of our own day has said that for modern culture "antiquity" means ancient greece and rome, but that for modern manners "antiquity" means mediaeval france. yet this is only in part true, and these sixteenth century books sum up that combination of "courtoisie" and "civilitas" which gives its special note to renaissance manners, and which distinguishes such books from their predecessors of the twelfth to the fifteenth centuries. we have but to examine any typical discussion of manners in mediaeval literature, such as the famous description of the exquisite table manners of the prioress in the prologue to the "canterbury tales," or the passage in the "roman de la rose" from which chaucer borrowed his own details, to note a characteristic distinction. both of these passages are concerned with women; in the middle ages it was only a woman who was supposed to exhibit such refined delicacy in the details of conduct. liberality, magnanimity, courage, loyalty, chivalrousness to women, and courtesy in its larger sense,--these and other social virtues the mediaeval man was supposed to possess; but even in the courtly circles of provence, it may be doubted whether the delicacy and refinement of every movement which chaucer ascribes to his prioress would have been expected of the courtliest knight. moderation and discretion--called "measure" or "manner"--were the nearest mediaeval approach to these requirements for men. moderation may be said to be implicit in the ideal of the gentleman in every age (indeed, it may be said to express the limitations of the ideal, for moderation is as often a vice as a virtue); but it was never more insisted on than in those ages when it was heeded least. for the middle ages, measure and good manners were almost synonymous terms. "courtesy and measure are the same thing,"--we are told in the fourteenth century french romance of "perceforest,"--"for manner and measure must be added to all your deeds if you would have great virtue." this may seem to be closely akin to della casa's statement that polished behaviour consists in adding a good grace to a good deed; but to the hero of "perceforest," it would have argued lack of "measure," or discretion, for any man to adopt graces and refinements so essentially feminine and unmanly as the table manners of chaucer's prioress. it was in the renaissance, and in the courts and cities of italy, that the larger virtues of measure and magnanimity and liberality were first felt to be inadequate, in men no less than in women and children, without the minor nuances of good manners. it was first felt there that in such matters as yawning or coughing in another's face, carelessness and greediness in eating, and other annoying traits, there could be only one standard for both sexes and for all ages. if the mediaeval ideal of "courtoisie" was based essentially on the relation of the sexes, without regard to individual instinct or social agreement in the wider sense, the "galateo," in basing good manners on the desire to please others, wholly regardless of sex, represents a real advance, or at least a widening of social interest. on a basis of mediaeval manners, then, the renaissance superimposed the classical ideal of "urbanitas" or "civilitas." in keeping with the spirit of his time, della casa rounded all this practice and precept into a code; and because to codify is to stereotype, he is in part responsible for the fact that the pattern he formulated has scarcely been altered from his day to ours. there is one side of personal manners, however, in which there has been much change. when bacon says that "cleanness of body was ever deemed to proceed from a due reverence to god," he can hardly be said to summarize theological opinion on the subject of cleanliness in the preceding fifteen hundred years. the rules of st. benedict permit bathing only to invalids and the very old, except on rare occasions; although an eighteenth century french ecclesiastic insists that the church never objected to bathing, "provided one indulges in it because of necessity and not for the sake of pleasure." but our concern is only with secular society, and there we find that cleanliness was considered only in so far as it was a social necessity, if indeed then; as an individual necessity or habit it scarcely appears at all. della casa's standard of social manners applies here, too: cleanliness was dictated by the need of pleasing others, and not because of any inner demand of individual instinct. but even in this italy was in advance of her neighbours, if personal cleanliness represents social advance. in france, odorous greatness was the rule, and contemporary chronicles record the filthy personal habits of henry of navarre, the great condé, and louis xiii. the "loix de la galanterie," nearly a century after the "galateo," advises the gallant to wash his hands every day--and "his face almost as often." all this has changed. personal cleanliness, because of its complete acceptance as an individual necessity, has virtually ceased to touch the problem of social manners at any point; and cultivated society simply acts from time to time by formulating new delicacies of neatness and cleanliness, makes them the habit of life, and, forgetting them completely, passes on to new trifles of perfection. perhaps we can judge this modern change without too great an exaggeration of its importance, if we bear in mind the paradox of the modern wit, that "dirt is evil chiefly as evidence of sloth, but the fact remains that the classes that wash most are those that work least." i have already pointed out that one of the limitations of that code of good breeding which we have inherited from the renaissance and which it is almost the mission of modern life to destroy, is that it looks merely to the comfort of those around us at any accidental point of time or place, often if not always at the expense of other groups, other classes, and wider interests. those who inveigh against democracy as destructive of the "finer graces" of life have hit upon what is, for good or evil, the very essence of its reformative programme. a modern idealist sums up this newer attitude when he says of the old code that it asks us "rather to let a million pine than hurt the feelings of a single man." but wholly apart from this, codes and rules have no more justification in the art of life than in the arts of poetry and painting. each individual soul must express its past and its present, its inheritance and its aspiration, in its own way; and it is as futile and vulgar to apply "rules" in the estimate of a life as it is in the criticism of a poem or a picture. children and novices and immature societies may obtain practical guidance from the empirical observations of those who have had experience, but in order to create a real life of their own, a real social atmosphere, they must reach the point where the very rules that nurtured them no longer apply. to disregard every rule of good breeding is the symbol of real attainment in the creative art of living. but this is no place to wage a battle for old codes or new ones. the "galateo" describes habits and impulses that for centuries have moved the souls of men, dictated their conduct, given them pleasure and pain, and that probably for centuries will continue to do so. nothing that has so stirred men and women, however trifling it may seem, can fail to hold a little human interest for those who call themselves humanists. j. e. s. new york, february, . galateo of maister john della casa, archebishop of benevento. or rather, a treatise of the manners and behaviours, it behoveth a man to use and eschewe, in his familiar conversation. a worke very necessary & profitable for all gentlemen, or other. first written in the italian tongue, and now done into english by robert peterson, of lincolnes inne gentleman. satis, si sapienter. imprinted at london for raufe newbery dwelling in fleetestreate litle above the conduit. an. do. . the dedication to the right honorable my singular good lord, the lord robert dudley, earle of leicester, baron of denbigh, knight of the honorable order of the garter, maister of the queenes majesties horses, and one of her highnesse privie counsell: robert peterson wisheth perfect felicitie. lighting of late (right honorable) upon this treatise of courtesie, penned by an experienced italian, & drawn for the profit therof, in to so many languages: i thought his lessons fit for our store, & sought to make him speake englishe. wise was that cato, that ended bothe his learning, and living day together. and truly, courtesie and courtiership, be like hippocrates twinnes, that laughe together, and grow together: and are so one affected, that who so divorceth them, destroyeth them. but yet, seeing moe redie to condemne the least trip then commend the best meaning, and knowing that the scarre sticketh thogh good desert do hele the wound: & perceiving that naevus in articulo pueri delectat alcaeum, & roscii oculi perversissimi catulum, that is, many dote on their fansie: i durst not send this, mine heire and firste fruites of my toile, to the view of the world, without the guarde of your patronage, wherin there is no presumption to teach them that are perfected, but may serve either as simonides characters, to stablish memory, or as an index, to point them to other behaviours enrolled whersoever. spread therefore (i beseeche your honour) the winges of wel liking over this worke, which presseth to you, as not only the patrone to protect, but the patterne to expresse any courtesie therin conteined. mine authour reporteth one maestro chiarissimo a perfect mason, when he had described the finest precepts of his art, to have made his regolo a piller so exactly, as would beare the proofe of every demonstration, thinking it learned speedely, where the mind and the eye, precept and experience joined hands together: whose steps i tread (though with better successe then mine author, who could not finde a regolo) hoping, when others shall come to trie these preceptes, not by showe or sound, as fooles do their golde: but, by your behaviour, as by the touchstone: when they shal come, not to ken aloofe, but at hand, to view your so singular demeanour, so civil, so courteous, as maketh you renoumed abrode, and honored at home: coveted of the noblest, & wonderful of the learnedst: when they shall in the glasse of your courtesie, see the blots that blemishe the dignitie of their estate: when they compare these lessons with the regolo, they shal herein see no lesse commoditie, then was in alcibiades sileni (whereunto socrates was compared) whiche though they bare not, in the front, any shewe of singularitie: yet within, bare they pictures of excellent wit & delight. this worke, if it please your honour to vouchsafe as a companion of ease to trace the pathes, which you have already so well beaten, (which presumeth not to be guide for conduction) or if your honour daine at highe leasure to peruse it (whiche is not cunningly but faithfully translated) i doubt not, but your countenance will so credit the author, as wil embolden him to presse amongst the thickest throng of courtiers: and herewithall beseeche your honour, to accept the humble and dutifull meaning minde of him: who, not satisfied, till he might by some meanes give shewe of his thankefull minde, for your honorable favours shewed unto him, hathe offered this small, though as faithfull a gifte as sinaetes did to cyrus: hoping, that your honour will take it as well in worth, as artaxerxes did his poore persians handfull of water. thus with hartie prayer, for the advauncement of your estate, increase of honor, & attainement of perfect and perpetual felicitie: i commend your lordship, to the patronage and protection of the almightie. your lordships moste humble to dispose and commaunde. robert peterson commendatory verses al signor ruberto peterson, esortandolo a tradurre in inghilese il galateo ben posson dirsi avventurate carte quelle ch' el dotto, e gentil casa spese: quand' in breve discors' à insegnar prese del honesta creanza la prima arte. poi che tanto si apprezz' in ogni parte quel ch' ei ne scrisse, e ch' ei si ben intese e ch' ogn' un con maniére più cortese dal bel trattato suo tosto si parte. esso à donn' e donzelle, & cavallieri non sol d'italia: ma di francia, e spagna di gentilezza mostr' i modi veri. venga per voi felice anco in brettagna e parli inglese ne palazzi alteri del regn' invitto che 'l tamigi bagna. francesco pucci le creanze, e i costumi, tanto splendenti lumi, ch'a gli huomini fan l'huom superiore, eccoli tratti fore de l'italico seno e piantati ne l'anglico terreno. or se li goda ogniun, che porta amore a 'l suo decoro, e a 'l suo compiuto onore. alessandro citolini edouardus cradoccus, s. theologiae doctor & professor moribus quisquis rudis est ineptis, nescit is vitam placidam tueri: nemini gratus, sociusque nulli charus habetur. quisquis at pulchre simul & decore se gerit, mentis studio repellens rusticos mores, popularis ille jure videtur. hoc petersoni liber hic venustus praestat, ostendens habitu decoro possit ut quisque probitate splendens utilis esse. idque dum magno satagit labore, italum fecit patria loquela hunc perornatas meus hic amicus fundere voces. thomas drant, archedeacon in praise of this booke an happy turne that casa once did hatche, of haviours choice this booke in ital' phrase: an archebishop, and writer without matche in this he was, and peereles pight with praise. such he his lore so well and wise doth lend: it heare ne reade we can, but must amend. this booke by tiber, and by po hath past, through all italia townes and country lands. iberus, throughe thy spanishe coasts as fast it after yoade: and gauls it held in hands, throughe rhenus realmes it spred in prosperous speede, to lordes and ladies reaching comly reede. it peterson, to britain eyes doth bring translated true and trimme: and fit to frame faire maners fine for men. this prety ring bedecketh feate our life: discourse and game it ordereth apt with grace. the booke is grave, eke wise and good, for civil folke to have. to his friend maister robert peterson gent. thy galateo (peterson) doth shrowd him selfe to long. what? shall it sleepe endymions yeares? thou dost thy countrie wrong. she hath a childs parte, plato saies, and with the author cries, that both thy toile, and this her gaine, may reare his skill to skies. what thoughe thou thinke thy present small, for view of gallant ones this litle diamond, shall out prize, a quarry full of stones. and noble cyrus (man) will daine cold water in sinaetaes hand: then fray not, if thy booke, in pure, unfiled termes doe stand. translatours can not mount: for though, their armes with wings be spread, in vaine they toile to take the flight, their feete are clogd with lead. this faith, that makes the authour, speake his owne in language new: renoumes the more, then if thou blazdst it out, in painted hew. for, serpents lurke in greenest grasse, and with a garishe gloze, the strumpet pounts in pride, where matrones marche in comelie clothes. go publishe it, and dreade not scowling momus poisond spite. and though archilochus iambes fly, or theons taunts doe bite: thinke, winds doe haunt the gallauntst trees, and envy things of state. and lightning checks, cerauniaes tops, whome no hils els do mate. the best have borne the bob, and zoiles brutes durst geve the charge: but zoile hangs, and callisthen keepes in cage for talking large. and yet, wordes they be winde: but as erst plinies draconite no toole could pierce or carve: or as the gemme chalazias hight, keepes cold, though it in aetna frie, or adiantons flowers drawes not a drop, though skies distill downe everlasting showers: so good desert, doth chalenge good reporte by reasons rate, though oft they beare the checkes and taunts, they cannot take the mate. yet seeke mecaenas wings to shroude thy toile: virgilio found his augustus: ennie thou maist finde thy scipio. this trump shall sound thy praise. sir phoebus golden rayes shall turne to foggie mistes, and seas that beare their ysie crust, shall burne: and lumpishe lowte, with country shares shall salte sea fome divide, and sowe his graine in afrik syrtes that wallow every tide, before this worke shall die: which neither joves thundering threate, nor fierie flames shall waste, nor rustie, cankred age shall freate. nolo persium nolo laelium. your friend. i. stoughton student the vine is praisde, that daintie grape doth give although the fruite more please then holsome be, each fertil tree, is favord for the fruite, so is the hearb that gallant is to see. if this be trueth, he needes must merit well, that gives us groundes to guide our erring wayes, and trades us truely in the golden maze, where vertue growes, and courtlike manner stayes. galateo first did frame this golden booke in ital land. from thence it went to spaine. and after came into the coasts of fraunce. and nowe at last in england doth remaine. the authour sure deserveth more renoume, that so could spend his time for our behoofe, then my poore wit or cunning can recite, as thou thy selfe by reading shalt finde proofe. and as the authour merits passing well, so doth my friend deserve as greate a meede: that makes a worke so hard to understand, so easie that each simple may it reede. i say no more: for (lo) it were in vaine to praise good wine by hanging up a bushe, the best will give (i hope) my friende his due. as for the bad, i way them not a rushe. thomas browne of l. i. gent. the treatise of master jhon della casa wherin under the person of an old unlearned man, instructing a youthe of his, he hath talke of the maners and fashions, it behoves a man to use or eschewe, in his familiar conversation: intituled galateo, of fashions and maners. for as muche as thou doste now enter the journy, wherof i have allredy ronne forth the better parte (as thou seest) i meane the transitorie waye of this mortall life: i have determined (such is the love i beare thee) to shewe all the daungerous straights thou must passe: for my experience maketh me feare, y^t walking that way thou mayst easily either fall, or by some meanes or other go astray. to the ende thou maist once, taughte both by my instructions and experience, be able to keepe the right waye, as well for the helthe of thy soule, as the commendation and praise of the honourable and noble house thou doest come of. and bycause thy tender age, is unfit (as yet) to receave more principall and higher precepts, reserving them for fitter time, i will beginn to discourse of such things as many men will deeme, perchaunce, but trifles: i meane what manner of countenance and grace, behoveth a man to use, that hee may be able in communication and familiar acquaintance with men, to shewe him selfe plesant, courteous, and gentle: which neverthelesse is either a vertue, or the thing that comes very nere to vertue. and albeit liberalitie, or magnanimitie, of themselves beare a greater praise, then, to be a well taught or manored man: yet perchaunce, the courteous behaviour and entertainement with good maners and words, helpe no lesse, him that hath them: then the high minde and courage, advaunceth him in whome they be. for these be such things as a man shall neede alwayes at all hands to use, because a man must necessarily be familiar with men at all times, & ever have talk & communication with them: but justice, fortitude, and the other greater, and more noble vertues, are seldome put in uze. neither is y^e liberall and noble minded man, caused every hower to doe bountifull things: for to use it often, cannot any man beare the charge, by any meanes. and these valiant men y^t be so full of highe minde and courage: are very seldome driven to trye their valour & vertue by their deeds. then as muche as these last, doe passe those first, in greatnes (as it were) & in weight: so much do the other surmount these in number, & often occasion to use them. and, if i could wel intend it, i could name you many, whoe, (being otherwise of litle account) have ben & be still, muche estemed & made of, for their cherefull & plesaunt behaviour alone: which hath bin suche a helpe & advauncement unto them, that they have gotten greate preferments, leaving farre behinde them, such men as have bin endowed with those other noble and better vertues, spoken of before. and as these plesaunt & gentle behaviours, have power to draw their harts & minds unto us, with whome we live: so contrariwise, grosse and rude maners, procure men to hate and despise us. wherby albeit the lawes, have injoined no paine for unmanerly & grose behaviours, as the fault that is thought but light (& to saye a trueth, it is not greate) yet we see notwithstanding, y^t nature herselfe punisheth them w^t sharpe & shrewde correction, putting them by this meanes, besydes y^e companie & favour of men. and truly even as greate & foule faults, doe muche harme: so doe these light, much hurt, or hurte at least more often. for, as men doe commonly fere y^e beasts y^t be cruell & wild, & have no maner of feare of som litle ones, as y^e gnats and the flies, & yet by y^e continual noiaunce they find by them, complaine them selves more of thes then of y^e other: so it chaunceth y^t most men do hate in maner asmuche, y^e unmanerly & untaught, as y^e wicked, & more. so y^t there is no doubte, but who so disposeth himselfe to live, not in solitarie and deserte places, as heremites, but in fellowship with men, and in populous cities, will think it a very necessarie thing, to have skill to put himselfe forth comely and seemely, in his fashions, gestures and maners: the lacke of which parts doth make those other vertues lame, and litle or nothing can they work to good effect, without other helpes: wheare this civilitie and courtesie, without other releefe or patrimonie, is riche of it selfe, & hath substance enough, as a thing y^t standeth in speache and gestures alone. and that y^u mayst now more easily learne the way unto it, thou must understand, it behoves thee, to frame and order thy maners and doings, not according to thine owne minde and fashion: but to please those, with whome thou livest, and after that sort direct thy doings: and this must be done by discretion and measure. for who so applieth himself to much, to feede other mens humors, in his familiar conversation, and behaviour with men, is rather to be thought a jester, a jugler or flatterer, then a gentleman wel taught and nourtured: as contrariwise, whoe so hath no care or mind to please, or displese, is a rude, untaught, and uncourteous fellowe. for asmuche then, as our maners, have some pleasure in them when we respect other men, and not our owne pleasure: if we diligently searche forthe what those things be, that most men do generally like or dislike: we shall in suche sorte wisely and easily finde out, the meanes & wayes, to choose and eschewe, those fashions and maners, we are to leave or take, to live amongest men. we say then, that every act that offendeth any the common senses, or overthwarteth a mans will and desire, or els presenteth to the imagination and conceite, matters unpleasaunt, & that likewise, which y^e minde doth abhorre, such things i say bee naught, and must not be used: for we must not only refraine from such thinges as be fowle, filthy, lothsome and nastie: but we must not so muche as name them. and it is not only a fault to dooe such things, but against good maner, by any act or signe to put a man in minde of them. and therefore, it is an ilfavoured fashion, that some men use, openly to thrust their hands in what parte of their bodye they list. likwise, i like it as ill to see a gentleman settle him selfe, to do the needes of nature, in presence of men: and after he hath doone, to trusse him selfe againe before them. neither would i have him (if i may geve him councell) when he comes from suche an occupation, so much as washe his hands, in the sight of honest company: for y^t the cause of his washing, puts them in minde of some filthy matter that hath bene done aparte. and by the same reason, it is no good maner, when a man chaunceth to see, as he passeth the waye (as many times it happeneth) a lothesome thing, y^t wil make a man to cast his stomacke, to tourne unto the company, & shewe it them. and much worse i like it, to reache some stinking thing unto a man to smell unto it: as it is many a mans fashion to do, w^t importunate meanes, yea, thrusting it unto their nose, saying: "foh, feele i pray you, how this doth stink:" where they should rather say, "smell not unto it: for it hath an ill sent." and as these and like fashions offend the senses, to which they appertaine: so to grinde the teethe, to whistle, to make pitifull cries, to rubb sharpe stones together, and to file uppon iron, do muche offend the eares and would be lefte in any case. neither must wee refraine those things alone, but we must also beware we do not sing, and specialy alone, if we have an untuneable voice, which is a common fault with moste men: and yet, hee that is of nature least apt unto it, doth use it moste. so there be some kinde of men, that in coffing or neesing, make suche noise, that they make a man deafe to here them: other some use in like things, so little discretion, that they spit in mens faces that stand about them: besides these there be some, that in yauning, braye and crye out like asses. and yet such, with open mouth wil ever say and do what they list, and make such noise, or rather such roaring, as the dumme man doth, when he striveth with him selfe to speake. all these yllfavoured fashions, a man must leave, as lothsome to the eare and the eye. and a man must leave to yawne muche, not only for the respect of the matter i have saide alreadye, as that it seemes to proceede, of a certaine werines, that shewes that he that yawneth, could better like to be els where, then there in that place: as wearied with the companie, their talke, and their doings. and sure, albeit a man be many times disposed to yawne, yet if he be occupied with any delight, or earnest matter to think uppon: he shall have no minde to doe it. but if he be lumpishe & idle: it is an easy matter to fall in to it. and therefore, when a man yawneth, in place where there bee slouthfull and idle folkes, that have nothing to doe, the rest, as you may see many times, yawne againe for companie by & by: as if he that yawned, had put them in minde to doe it, which of them selves they would have done first, if hee had not be-goone unto them. and i have many times heard learned and wise men say, that a yawner meaneth as much in latin as a careles and idle bodie. let us then flye these condicions, that loathe (as i said) the eyes, the eares, & the stomacke. for in using these fashions, we doe not only shewe that we take litle pleasure in the company, but we geve them occasion withall, to judge amis of us: i meane y^t we have a drowsye & hevie nowle, which makes us ill wellcom, to all companies we come unto. and when thou hast blowne thy nose, use not to open thy handkercheif, to glare uppon thy snot, as if y^u hadst pearles and rubies fallen from thy braynes: for these be slovenly parts, ynough to cause men, not so much not to love us, as if they did love us, to unlove us againe. as the sprite of labirintho doth testifie (who soever he were that made it) who (to quenche y^e heate wherwith master john boccase burned in desire and love of his lady unknowne) tells, come ella covaua la cenere, sedendosi insu le calcagna; & tossiua, & isputaua farfalloni. it is also an unmanerly parte, for a man to lay his nose uppon the cup where another must drinke: or uppon the meate y^t another must eate, to the end to smell unto it: but rather, i would wish he should not smell at all, no not to that which he himselfe should eate and drinke: because it may chaunce there might fall some droppe from his nose, that would make a man to loath it: although there fall nothing at all in deede. neither, by mine advise, shalt thou reache to any man, that cup of wine wherof thy selfe hast first dronke and tasted: w^tout he be more then a familiar friend unto thee. and much lesse must thou give any parte of the peare or the fruite, which thou hast bitten in thy mouth before. and esteeme not light of my talke, for that these things be of little account: for even light stripes (their number may be such) be able to slaye fast ynoughe. now you shall understand, there was in verona, a bishop a wise man, a learned & of a singular good wit by nature, whose name was giovanni matheo giberti: amongst many good parts y^t were in him, he was very courtious & liberall, to all gentlemen & noble men that came unto him, doing them all y^e honor he could in his house, not with over much pompe and cost, but with convenient entertainement and measure, such as besemed well a man of the clergie. it chaunced in his time, a noble gentleman called count richard, passed that way, to spend a fewe dayes with the bishop and his householde together: which was thoroughly furnished w^t honest gentlemen and very well learned. and bycause they found him a noble gentleman, courteous and well beseene in all good behaviour, they praised him muche, and made muche of him, save that one unmanerly fashion they muche misliked in him. when the bishop was advertised of it, consulting with some of his familiars about it (as he was a wise man in all his doings) straite they concluded, it should be necessary to let y^e count have knowledge of it: albeit they feared, they should offend him. upon this, y^e count taking his leave, and redy to ride away the next morning, the bishop called one of his servants unto him, (a man of good discretion) and gave him in charge to take his horse, to beare the count company, some parte of his waye: and when he sawe his time, after an honest sorte, to tell him, that which they had determined betwene them selves. the same gentleman that had this charge, was a man well strooken in yeares, very lerned, and mervailous pleasaunt, welspoken, comely, and had muche frequented in his time, y^e courtes of greate princes: who was (perhaps) and is, called galateo: at whose request and councell, i first tooke in hand to set forth this present treatise. riding with the count, he found him plesaunt talke ynoughe, and passing from one matter to another, when he thought it time to returne to verona, in taking leave at parting, with a gentle & cherefull countenaunce, he used this speache unto him. "sir count, my lorde yealdeth you many thanks for the honour you have done him, in that it hath pleased you to vouchesafe his poore house: and that he may not be unthankfull, for this your greate courtesie shewed unto him, he hath geven me in charge, that i must leave a present with you in his behalfe: and he sends it unto you with earnest request, that you please to take it in good worthe: and this is the gift. you are a goodly gentleman, and the best manered man my lorde hath ever seene: so that very heedefully beholding your behaviours, and particularly considering them all, hee findeth no one that is not very comely and comendable, only one unsemely tricke alone excepted, which you make with your lippes and your mouth together, feeding at your meate with a certaine straunge noyes, unpleasaunt to all men that heare it. this my lord willed me to tell you, and prayes you to endevour your selfe to leave it, and withall to accept in lewe of a beter present, this loving admonition and councell of his: for he is sure, there is none in the worlde, would make you the like present." the count (that never wist of his fault till now) hearing himselfe reproved, chaunged his countenance a little, but (as a man full of stomacke ynough) taking hart at grasse, he said: "tell your lorde, that if all the gifts that men wont to geve eche other, were such as his, men should be muche more riche then they are. and for his greate courtesie and liberalitie to mee, geve him many thanks i pray you, and let him be sure, i will not faile from henceforthe to mend my fault, and god be with you." now what shal we thinke this bishop, his modest and honest company about him would say, if they sawe these whome wee see other while, (like swine w^t their snouts in the washe, all begroined) never lift up their heads nor looke up, and muche lesse keepe their hands from the meate, and w^t both their cheeks blowne (as if they should sound a trumpet, or blowe the fier) not eate but ravon: whoe, besmearing their hands, almost up to their elbowes, so bedawbe y^e napkins, that y^e cloathes in the places of easement, be other while cleaner. and to mend these slovenly maners, be not ashamed, many times with these filthy napkins, to wipe awaye the sweat that trickleth and falleth downe their browes, their face and their necke (they be such greedy guts in their feeding) and otherwhile to, (when it comes uppon them) spare not to snot their sniveld nose uppon them. truly these beastly behaviours and fashions, deserve not alone, to be thrust out of this noble bishops house, that was so pure and cleane: but to be throughly banished all places, where any honest men should com. let a man then take hede, hee doe not begrease his fingers so deepe, y^t he befyle the napkins to much: for it is an ill sight to see it: neither is it good maner, to rubbe your gresie fingers uppon y^e bread you must eate. the servaunts that bee appointed to waite uppon the table, must not (in any wise) scratche and rubbe their heades, nor any parte els in the sight of their lorde & master: nor thrust their hands in any those partes of their body that be covered, no not so muche as make any proffer: as some careles fellowes doo, holding their hands in their bosome, or cast under the flappes of their coates behind them. but they must beare them abroade without any suspicion and keepe them (in any case) washt & cleane without any spot of durt uppon them. and they that cary the dishes, or reache the cup, must beware at that time, they doe not spit, coughe or neese: for in such doings, suspicion is as greate, and offendeth asmuche, as the very deede it selfe: and therefore, servants must forsee, they geve no cause to maisters to suspect: for that which might chaunce, anoyeth asmuche, as if it had chaunced indeede. and if thou do roaste any fruite, or make a toaste at the fier, thou must not blowe of the ashes, (if there be any) for it is an old saying, that, winde was never without water. but y^u must lightly strike it uppon the plate, or after some suche sorte or other beate of y^e ashes. thou shalt not offer thy handkerchiefe to any man to use it, albeit, it be very cleane washed: for he to whome thou doest offer it, can not (perhaps) awaye w^t it, and may be to curious to take it. when a man talketh with one, it is no good maner to come so neere, that he must needes breathe in his face: for there be many that cannot abide to feele the ayer of another mans breathe, albeit there come no ill savour from him. these and like fashions, be very unsemely, and would be eschewed, because their senses, w^t whome we acquaint our selves, cannot brooke nor beare them. now, let us speake of those things which (without any hurt or anoyaunce to the senses) offende the minds of most men, before whome they be doone. you shall understand, that the appetites of men, (throughe a naturall instinct and inclination) be verie strange and divers: some be cholerike & hasty, & may not be satisfied with out revenge: other doe give them selves cleane over, to pamper the belly: this man sets his delighte in lust and sensualitie: that man is carried away with his covetous desires: and many suche appetites more there are, to which mans minde is too subject: but you shall not in any company, easily judge or discerne betweene them, where and in what, they bee moste affected. for, these matters doe not consist in the maners, the fashions and speache of men: but rest in some other point. they seeke to purchase y^t which the benefit of mutuall conferrence may yeald them, & that doe (as i weene) good will, honour, comforte and pleasure, or some other thing like unto these: & therfore we must neither say or doe the thing, that may give any signe of litle loving or esteming them, we live withall. so that, it is a rude fashion, (in my conceipte) y^t som men use, to lie lolling a sleepe in that place, where honest men be met together, of purpose to talke. for his so doing, shewes that he doth not esteeme the company, and little rekoneth of them or their talke. and more then that, he that sleepeth (and specially lying at litle ease, as he must) wonts (for the moste parte) to doe some fowle thing, to beholde, or heare: and many times they awake sweating and driveling at the mouth. and in like maner, to rise up where other men doe sit and talke, and to walke up and downe the chamber, it is no point of good maner. also there be some that so buskell them selves, reache, streatch and yawne, writhing now one side, and then another, that a man would weene, they had some fever uppon them: a manifest signe, that the company they keepe, doth weary them. likewise doe they very ill, y^t now & then pull out a letter out of their pocket, to reade it: as if they had greate matters of charge, and affaires of the common weale committed unto them. but they are much more to bee blamed, that pull out their knives or their scisers, and doe nothing els but pare their nailes, as if they made no account at all of the company, and would seeke some other solace to passe the time awaye. theis fashions to, must be left, y^t some men use, to sing betwene the teeth, or playe the dromme with their fingers, or shoofle their feete: for these demeanours shewe that a body is carelesse of any man ells. besides, let not a man so sit that he turne his taile to him that sitteth next to him: nor lie tottering with one legg so high above the other, that a man may see all bare that his cloathes would cover. for such parts be never playde, but amongst those to whome a man needs use no reverence. it is very true, that if a gentleman should use these fashions before his servants, or in the presence of some friende of meaner condition then him selfe: it would betoken no pride, but a love and familiaritie. let a man stand uppright of him selfe, and not leane or loll uppon another mans shoulder: and when he talketh, let him not pounche his fellow with his elbowe, (as many be wont to doe) at every worde they speake, saying: "did i not say true sirra. master. n. it is master. h." and still they be jotting with their elbowe. i would have every man well appareled, meete for his age and calling: for otherwise, they seeme to have men in contempt that be better attired then themselves. and therefore the citizens of padua, were woont to take it done of spighte unto them, when any gentleman of venice walked up & downe their citie in his coate, as though he thought him selfe in the countrey. and a mans apparell, would not be made of fine cloathe alone: but he must frame it, all that he may, to the fashions that other men weare, and suffer him selfe to bee lead by common use: although (perchaunce) it be, and seeme to be lesse commodious, lesse gallant, and lesse faire in shewe, then his oulde. and if all men els, doe weare their heads powled: it shalbe an ill sight for thee alone, to weare a longe bushe of haire. and where other men, make muche of their beardes and weare them longe: thou shalt not doe well to cut thine of, or shave it. for that weare to be overthwarte in everything: which thou must (in any case) beware of, except necessitie require it, as thou shalt heare hereafter. for this singularitie, beyond all other ill customes, makes us generally spited of all men. thou must not then go against common custome in these things, but use them measureably: that thou maist not bee an odd man alone in a countrey: that shall weare a long gowne downe to the foote, where other men weare them very shorte, litle beneath the waste. for as it hapens to him, that hath a very crabbed ilfavoured face, (i meane suche, as is more harde and sower then most mennes be, for nature doth mostly shape them well in moste men) that men will wonder and (with a kinde of admiration) gape most uppon him: so fares it with them that attire them selves, not as most men doe: but as they are egged by their owne fantasticall heads, with long heare spred downe to their shoulders, their beardes short and shaven, and weare quaiues or greate cappes after y^e flaundres fashion: that all men doe gaze uppon them, as wondering at suche, whome they weene have taken uppon them, to conquer all countries wheresoever they come. let your apparell then, be very well made, and fit for your body: for they that weare rich and coastly garments, but so illfavouredly shaped, that a man would weene the measure had bin taken by another: geve us to judge one of these twaine, that either they have no regarde or consideration how to please or displease: or els have no skill to judge of measure or grace, or what doth become them. such maner of people, with their rude behaviours and fashions, make men with whome they live, suspect, they doe esteeme them but light. and that causeth them worse welcome whersoever they com and ill beloved amongest men. but there be some besides these, that deserve more then bare suspicion: their deeds and their doings be so intollerable, that a man cannot abide to live amongest them by any meanes. for they be ever a let, a hurt and a trouble to all the companie, they be never redie: ever a trimming: never well dressed to their mindes. but when men be readie to sit downe to the table, the meate at the boorde, and their handes washed: then they must write or make water, or have their exercise to doe: saying, "it is too early: we might have taried a while: what haste is this, this morning?" and thus they disquiet all the company, as men, caring for them selves alone & their owne matters, without consideration in the worlde of other men. besides this, they will in all things be preferred above others: they must have the best bed, and best chamber: they must take uppon them the highest place at the table, and be first set and served of all men. and they be so deintie and nice, that nothing pleaseth them, but what they them selves devise: they make a sower face at any thing ells. and they be so proude minded, that they looke that men should waite uppon them when they dine, ride, sporte, or solace them selves. there be other so furious, testie & waywarde, that nothing you doe can please them: and what soever is said they aunswer in choler, and never leave brauling w^t their servants, and rayling at them, and continually disturbe the company with their unquietnes: using such speeches: "thou cauledst me well up this morning. looke heere how cleane thou hast made these pynsons. thou beaste, thou diddest waite well uppon me to churche. it were a good deede to breake thy head." these be unsemely and very fowle fashions: suche as every honest man will hate to death. for, albeit a mans minde were full fraught with all humilitie, and would use these maners, not uppon pride or disdaine, but uppon a rechelesse care, not heeding his doings, or elles by meanes of ill custome: yet notwithstanding, because his outward doings, woulde make men thinke him proude: it cannot be chosen, but all men woulde hate him for it. for, pride is none other thinge, then to despise and disdaine another. and as i have saide from the beginning: eache man desireth to bee well thought of, albeit there bee no valoure or goodnes in him. it is not long, since there was in rome a worthy gentleman, of singular good witt and profound learning, whose name was ubaldino bandinelli. this gentleman was woont to say, that as ofte as hee went or came from the courte, although the stretes weare ever full of gallant courtiers, of prelates and noble men, and likewise of poore men, and people of meane and base condition: yet he thought he never encountred any, that was either better or worse then himselfe. and without doubte hee could meete with fewe, that might bee compared in goodnes to him: respecting his vertues, that did excel beyond measure. but we must not alwayes in these things measure men by y^e elne: we must rather waye them in the millers scoles, then in the goldsmythes balaunce. and it is a courtious parte, redily to receave them in to favour: not bycause they bee woorthe it: but as men doe with coines, bycause they be currant. to go further, wee must doe nothing in their sight whome wee desire to please, that may shewe wee covet, rather to rule and to reigne, then to live in a familiar equalitie amongest them. for hautines of harte and ambitious disposition, as it kindleth an ill opinion: so it ministreth muche cause of contempte, which in conclusion will so woorke against thee, y^t thou shalt bee cleane cast out of honest company. but our dooings must rather beare a signe and shewe of reverence, meekenes, & respect to y^e company, in which wee fellowship ourselves. so that, what so ever is doone in meete and convenient time, may hapely deserve no blame: but yet in respect of the place and the persone, it may be reproved well: althoughe for it self, y^e matter deserve no rebuke. as to brawle and to raile at your servaunts (which we have talked of before) but muche more to beate them. because these partes, are asmuche as to reigne and to rule: which no honest and civil gentleman will use, in presence of them he doth respect with any reverence or courtesie. besides this, the company is muche offended with it, and their meetinges are broken, and especially, if it be done at the table, which is a place of solace and mirthe, and not of brawle and scolding. so that i must nedes commend currado gianfigliazzi for his civil behaviour in y^t he multiplied no words with chichibio to trouble his guests: albeit he deserved to be sharply punished for it, when he would sooner displease his master then brunetta. and yet if currado had made lesse adoe about it then he did: it had ben more his praise. for then he should never have neded, to call uppon god, to witnes his threatnings so muche as he did. but to returne to our matter: it is not good for a man to chide at the table for any cause. and if thou be angrie, shew it not, nor make no signe of thy greefe, for the reason i have tolde thee, and specially if thou have straungers with thee: because thou haste called them to be merry, and this wil make them sad. for, as the sharpe and tarte things y^t other men doe feede uppon in thy sight, doe set thy teeth likewise on edge: so to see other men vexed and out of quiet, it maketh us unquiet too. i call them fromward people, which will in allthings be overtwhart to other men: as the very worde it selfe doth shewe. for, frome-warde, signifieth asmuche, as shorne against the wooll. now, how fit a thinge this frowardnes is, to win the good will of men, and cause men to wishe well unto them: that you your self may easily judge, in that it consisteth in overtwharting other mens desiers: which qualitie never mainteineth friendship, but maketh friends become foes. and therfor let them that desire to be well thought of and welcome amongst men, endevour them selves to shunne this fault: for it breedes no good liking nor love, but hatred and hurt. i would councell you rather to measure your pleasures by other mens willes: where there shal come no hurt nor shame of it: and therin alwayes to doe & to saye, more to please other mens mindes and fansies, then your owne. againe, you must be neither clownishe nor lumpishe: but pleasaunt and familiar. for there should bee no oddes, betweene the mystell and the pungitopo: but that the one is wilde: the other growes in gardens. and you must understand, that he is pleasaunt and courteous: whose manners bee suche in his common behaviour, as practise to keepe, and maintaine him friendeship amongst them: where hee that is solleyne and waywarde, makes him selfe a straunger whersoever hee comes: a straunger, i meane, asmuch as a forreigne or alienborne: where contrariwise, he that is familiar & gentle, in what place so ever he comes: is taken for a familiar and friend with all men. so that it shalbe necessarie for a man, to use him selfe to salute, to speake, and to answer after a gentle sorte, and to behave him selfe w^t all men so: as if hee were their countryman borne, & of their olde acquaintance. which some can ill skill to doe, that never give a man a good countenaunce: easily say, no, to all things: never take in good worthe, the honour and courtesie that men doe unto them (like to the people i spake of before, rude and barbarous): never take delight in any pleasaunt conceites or other pleasures: but ever refuse it all, what soever is presented or offered unto them. if a man say: "sir, suche a one willed me to commend him unto you:" they aunswere straite: "what have i too doe with his greetings?" and if a man say: "sir, suche a one your friend, asked me how you did." they aunswer againe in choler: "let him come feele my pulse." these carterlike and clownishe aunswers and maners, and the men them selves that doe use them: would bee chased and hunted away, out of all good and honest company. it ill becomes a man when hee is in company, to bee sad, musing, and full of contemplation. and albeit, it may bee suffered perchaunce in them that have long beaten their braines in these mathematicall studies: which are called (as i take it) the liberall artes: yet without doubte it may not be borne in other men. for, even these studious fellowes, at suche time, when they be so ful of their muses: should be much wiser to get them selves alone. againe, to bee to nice or to deintie: it may not be abiden, and specially in men. for, to live with suche kinde of people: is rather a slaverie then pleasure. and sure there bee som such, so softe & tender: y^t to live and deale with such people, it is as daungerous: as to medle with the finest and brittelest glasse that may be: so muche they are affraide of every light touche. and they wilbe as testy and frowarde, if you doe not quickly and readily salute them, visite them, worship them, and make them answer: as some other body would be, for the greatest injurie y^t can be donne unto them. and if you doe not give them all the due reverence that may be: they will presently take a thousand occasions to quarell and fall out with you. if you chaunce to master him, and leave out his title of honour or worship: he takes that in dougeon, and thinkes you doe mock him. and if you set him beneath as good a man as him self at the table: that is against his honour. if you doe not visite him at home at his house: then you knowe not your dutie. theis maner of fashions and behaviours, bring men to such scorne and disdaine of their doings: that there is no man, almost, can abide to beholde them: for they love them selves to farre beyonde measure, and busie them selves so much in that, that they finde litle leisure to bethinke them selves to love any other: which (as i have saide from the beginning) men seeke to finde in the conditions and maners of those with whome they must live: i meane, that they should apply them selves to the fansies & mindes of their friendes. but to live w^t suche people, so hard to please: whose love and friendship once wonne, is as easily lost, as a fine scarfe is lightly caried away with the winde: that is no life but a service: and, besides that it yealdeth no pleasure, it geves a man greate disdaine and horror. let us therefore leave these softe and wanton behaviours to women. in speach a man may fault many wayes. and first in the matter it selfe that is in talke, which may not be vaine or filthye. for, they that doe heare it, will not abide it: as y^e talk they take no pleasure to heare: but rather scorne the speache and the speaker both. againe, a man must not move any question of matters that be to deepe & to subtile: because it is hardly understoode of the moste. and a man must warely foresee, that the matter bee suche, as none of the company may blushe to heare it, or receave any shame by the tale. neither must he talke of any filthy matter, albeit a man would take a pleasure to heare it: for, it ill becomes an honest gentleman, to seeke to please, but in things that be honest. neither in sporte nor in earnest, must a man speake any thing against god or his saintes, how witty or pleasaunt so ever the matter be. wherein, the company that giovan boccaccio hathe brought to speake in his novelles and tales, hath faulted so muche: that me thinkes every good body, may justly blame them for it. and you must thinke it is not only a token of great detestation & impietie in a man, to talke in jestinge wise of god: but hee is a wicked & sinfull man, that will abide to heare it. but you shall finde some suche good men, as will flie asmuche as the plague, the company of such as talke so unreverently, and without respect, of the incomprehensible majestie of god. and wee must not alone speake religiously of him: but in all our talkes wee must avoide what wee may, that our wordes may not witnes against our life and our workes. for men doe hate their owne faultes otherwhile, when they see them in another. likewise it is unsavourie, to talke of things out of time, not fitting the place and company: although the matter it selfe, and spoken in time, were otherwise both good and godly. we must not then reherse friers sermones to young gentlewomen, when they are disposed to sporte them selves: as y^t good man did, that dwelles not farr hence, nere to s. brancatio. and in feastes & at table, wee must beware wee doe not rehearse any sorowfull tales, nor put them in minde of woundes, of sicknes, of deathes, of plagues, or of other dolefull matters. but if another man chaunce to move suche matter: it shalbe good, after an honest and gentell sorte, to exchaunge that talke, and thrust in some other, y^t may give them more delighte and pleasure to heare it. albeit, not long since i heard it said to a worthy gentleman our neighbour, that men have many times more neede to weepe then to laugh. and for that cause hee said, these dolefull tales, which wee call tragedies, were devised at first, that when they were playd in the theatres (as at that time they were wont) they might draw fourth teares out of their eyes, that had neede to spend them. and so they were by their weeping, healed of their infirmitie. but albeit it bee good to doe so: yet it will il become us to drive men into their dumpes: especially where they bee mett to feaste and to solace themselves, & not to mourne. for if there be any, y^t hath suche weeping disease: it will bee an easie matter to cure it, w^t stronge mustard or a smoaky house. so that, in no wise, i can excuse our friend philostrato, for his worke that hee made full of dule and of death, to suche a company as desired nothing more then mirthe. wee must the rather use silence, then discourse of suche sorrowfull matters. and they doe asmuche amisse too, that never have other thing in their mouthe, then their children, their wife, and their nourse. "my litle boy, made mee so laughe yesterday: heare you: you never sawe a sweeter babe in your life: my wife is such a one, cecchina told mee: of troth you would not beleeve what a wit shee hath:" there is none so idle a body, that will either intend to answer, or abide to heare suche foolishe prittle prattle. for it ircks a mans eares to harken unto it. there be some againe, so curious in telling their dreames from point to point, using such wonder and admiration withall, y^t it makes a mans hart ake to heare them: & specially because (for y^e most parte) they be such kinde of people: as it is but labour lost to heare, even the very best exploits they doe, when they be most awake, and labour most to shew their best. wherfore we must not trouble men with so base and absurde matter as dreames bee: especially suche foolishe things, as most times men have. albeit i have heard say many times, that wisemen in times past, have leaft in their bookes many sortes of dreames, conteining matters of deepe knowledge and understanding: it followeth not yet, that wee, the unlearned and common sorte of people, should use it in our familiar and common talke. and sure of all the dreames that ever i heard (albeit i hardly listen to any) in my conceit, i never heard any, that was worth the hearing but one alone, which the good master flaminio tomarozzo a gentleman of rome did see, a man not unlearned and grosse: but full of knowledge and singular witte. and thus was his dreame, this gentleman master flaminio tomarozzo, thought he was sitting in a very riche apothecaries shop, a neere neighbour of his. and after he had bin there a while (what soever the occasion was) the people were up in a rore one a sodaine, and fell to spoiling of all that was in the shoppe. one tooke an electuarie, another a confection, some one thing, some another, and presently eate it upp all: so that within a while, there was neither virell glasse, ertherne pot, wodden boxe, nor any potels of drugges, that was not emptied, broken, or overthrowne. but amongest them all, ther was one verye small glasse, full to the toppe of verie cleare water, which many did smell to, but no man would taste. he stoode not there long, but there came in a tall man, an aged and very grave man, to look unto. this aged father beholding this unfortunate apothecaries boxes and pottes, and finding some emptied, some overthrowne, and the better parte broken: at lenght casting his eye aside, he chaunced to see the smal glasse i spake of before, and setting the same to his mouthe, hee dranke it up so cleane: that he leaft not one droppe. and this doone, he went from thence as the rest did before. master flaminio was abashed and marveled muche at this matter. and therefore turning to the apothecarie he saied unto him: sir, whoe is this that came laste? and why did he drinke up so savourly, all the water in that litle glasse, which all the reast refused. to whome the apothecarie seemed to make this aunswer. my sonne, this is the lord god. and the water, that hee alone dranke, and all the reast refused and would not taste as you saw: was discretion: which, you know wel ynough men will not taste of, by any meanes. such kind of dreames, i hould well a man may rehearse, and heare with much pleasure and profit. bycause they doe more resemble, the cogitations & thoughts of an awakened minde: or better, i shoulde say, the vertue sensitive: then the visions and sights of a drowsie head. but those other dreames, without shape, fashion or sense: (which the moste parte of suche men as we are, bee wont to have) would be forgotten cleane, and lost with our sleepe. howbeit, i doe not deny but the dreames of good men and learned, be better and wiser than theires of the wicked and more unlearned sorte. and albeit a man would weene, there can bee nothing in the worlde more vaine then dreames: yet there is one thing more light then they, and that are lies. for there is yet some shadowe, and, as it were, a certaine feeling of that which a man hath seene in his dreame. but there is neither shadowe nor bodye of a trueth in a lie. and therfore we should lesse busie mens eares, and their mindes to harken to lies, then to dreames, because they bee otherwhile received for truethes. but time, in the ende, discovers suche pelfe: that liers, not only doe gaine no credite, but no man vouchesafes to harken unto them, in otherwise (as the men that carry no substaunce in their woordes) then if they had saide nothing or blowne a litle winde. and you shal understand, ther be many y^t use to lie, not minding any ill purpose in it, or to make their owne peculiar proffit by it, to hurt other men or shame their neighbour: onely they doe it, for a pleasure they take to tell a lie: as men that drinke not, all for thirst: but for a pleasure they take, to taste of the wine. other some doe tell lies, to make a vaine glorious boasting of them selves: vaunting and telling in a bravery, what wonderfull exploits they have doone, or bearing men in hand, they be greate doctours and learned men. in silence too, after a sorte, without speache, a man may tell a lesinge: i meane with his gestures and grace: as some you shall see, that being of meane, or rather base condition and calling, use suche a solemnitie in all their doings, and marche so stately, and speake with suche a prerogative, or rather discourse like parleament men, setteling them selves, as it were, in a place of judgement, proudly prying about them like peacockes: that it is a very death to behold them. and some suche you shall finde, that allthough they bee combered with no more wealthe then easily serves their turne: yet will they never appeare unles their neckes be laden with chaines, their fingers full of rings, their cappes beset with agletts, and every other parte bespangled, as though they would defie y^e king of castiglio. whose behaviours be full of follies and vaine glorie, which cometh of pride, growing of vanitie it selfe. so that wee must eschew these faults, as foule and unseemely things. you shall understand, in many cities, and those of the best, the lawes doe not suffer, that riche men should go muche more gorgeously attired, then the poore. for poore men thinke they have a wrong: when men seeme, but in countenaunce alone, as it were imperiously to reigne over them. so that we must carefully beware we fall not into these follies. neither must a man boaste of his nobilitie, his honour or riches: muche lesse vaunt of his witt, or gloriously reherse to much of his deedes & valiant actes, or what his auncestors have done, nor uppon every occasion, fall in rehersall of suche thinges, as many men doe. for in suche case, a man would weene, they seeke, either to contend with the company, (if they be, or will take uppon them to bee, as good gentlemen, & of as muche wealthe and worthines, as they bee:) or elles to overcrowe them, (if they live in meaner condition and calling, then they doe). and as it were to upbraide them, their poore and base condition of life. a man must neither embase, nor exalte him selfe to muche out of measure: but rather bury in silence some parte of his merits, then arrogate to muche unto him. bycause goodnes it selfe, when it excedeth muche, is ever envide of some. and you may be sure, they that embase them selves thus beyond measure, refusing that worship and honour that is but duely their owne of very right: shewe more pride in this contempte, then they that usurpe those things, that are not so due unto them. so y^t a man perchaunce, might saye, giotto hath not deserved those commendations y^t some beleve, in y^t he refused to be called master: being not only a master but without doubt a singular and cunning master in his art in those dayes. but be it blame, or praise y^t he deserved: it is most sure, he that refuseth that which every man els doth hunt for: sheweth therin, he reproveth or contemneth the common opinion of men. and, to contemne the honour & renowne, which other men gape for so much, is but to glorie and magnifie him selfe above other. for asmuche as there is no man (without he be mad) will refuse and reject things that be deare and of price: unles hee be suche, as hathe plenty and store of those deare and deintie things. wee must not boast of those good things that be in us, nor set them to light: for in y^e one, wee doe upbraide men their faults: in the other, wee scorne to muche their vertues. but it behoveth every man to speake his owne praise, as litle as hee may. and if occasion drive him unto it: it shalbe good, modestly to speake the truethe, as i have told you before. and therefore, they that desire to doe men a pleasure: must needes leave one faulte, y^t is to common with all men: they must not shewe them selves so afraide and fearefull to speake their mindes, when a man dothe aske their advise. for, it is a deadly paine to here them, & specialy if they be men, in y^e judgement of y^e world, of good understanding and wisedome. what a fetching about is this, ere they come to y^e mater? sir i beseche you pardon mee, if i doe not say well. i will speake like a gros man as i am: & grosly according to my pore skil. and sir, i am sure you will but mocke me for it. but yet, to obey you: & they drawe their words forth so long, & put them selves to suche paine: y^t, while these ceremonies be a doing, y^e hardest question y^t is, might have bin determined with fewer words and shorter time: bycause they cannot get out of these protestations, when they bee in. they bee also very tedious to men, and their conversation & maners are very troublesome: whoe shewe too base and abject a minde in their doings. and where the chefest and highest place, is apparantly due unto them: they will ever creepe downe to the lowest. and it is a spitefull buisines to thrust them up: for they will straite jogge backe againe, like a resty jade, or a nagge that startleth a side at his shadowe. so that, there is muche a dooe w^t them, when wee meete at a doore. for they will not (for all you can dooe) in any case enter before you, but so traverse their ground, go backe, and so fray and defend with their armes and their handes: that at every thirde steppe, a man must be ready to wage battell with them: and thus they breake of, all solace and pleasure, and otherwhile, the buisines they meete aboute. and therfore, ceremonies, which wee name, as you heare, by a straunge terme, as lacking a worde of our owne, bycause our elders, having no knowledge of those superstitious fashions, coulde not well give them a proper name. ceremonies, i saye, (in my judgement,) differ not much from lies & dreames, for their own very vainesse it selfe. so that wee may couple and joine them together in this our treatise, sithe occasion serves so fitt to speake of them here. as a good man hath often shewed me: those solemnities that church men doe use at their altars, and in their divine service bothe to god and his holy things, are properly called ceremonies: but after, men did begin, to reverence eche other with curious entertainements, more then were convenient, and would be called masters and lords, amongest them selves, yealding bending, and bowing their bodies, in token of reverence one to another, uncovering their heads, using highe titles and styles of honour, and kissing their hands as if they were hollye things: some body, by like considering all these things well, and finding these newe founde curious follies without any name: thought good to christen and call them ceremonies, but sure in a jest as i take it: as to be mery and make good cheare, we terme it in sport, a triumph: which custome, no doubt, tooke not his being at us, but elles where, as barbarous & straunge: and not long since, from whence i knowe not, transported into italie: whose deedes being wretched, and effects base and vile, hath gotten encrease and honor, in vaine woords alone, and superfluous titles. ceremonies then, if we consider well their intents that use them: are but vaine shewes of honour and reverence, towardes him to whome they be doone: framed of semblance and wordes touching their titles and courtious offers. i say vaine: in that we honour men to their face, whome we reverence not in deede, but otherwhile contemne. and nevertheles, because we may not go against custome, wee give them these titles: the most honorable lord suche a one: the noble lord suche a one. and so otherwhile wee offer them our humble service: whome wee could better unserve then serve, & commaund then doe them any duety. then not lesinges alone, but also treacheries and treasons, shalbe called ceremonies. but because these wordes and these titles above rehersed, have lost their strength: and waste, (as a man may say of iron) their temper, w^t such continuall occupying of it as it we doe use: we must not so precisely way them as other words, nor so strictly construe the meaning of them. and, that this is true, that which allwayes happens to all men, dothe shewe it plaine inoughe. for if wee meete with a man, we never sawe before: with whome, uppon some occasion, it behoves us to talke: without examining wel his worthines, most commonly, that wee may not offend in to litle, we give him to much, and call him gentleman, and otherwhile sir, althoughe he be but some souter or barbar, or other suche stuffe: and all bycause he is appareled neate, somewhat gentleman like. and as men in times past, were wont to have under the privilege of the pope & emperour, peculiar & distinct titles of honour, which might not be untouched, without doing wrong to the privileged men: nor againe attributed & geven without a scorne, to them that were no such privileged persones: so at this daye, wee must more freely use those titles, and the other significations of honour, like to those titles: bycause custome the mightiest lorde, hathe largely therewith, privileged men of our time. this use and custome, then so faire and gallant without, is altogether vaine within, and consisteth in semblance without effect, & in wordes without meaning. but this notwithstanding, it is not lawful for us to chaunge it: but rather, bycause it is not our fault, but the fault of our time, wee are bounde to followe it: but yet wee must discretely doe it. so that wee are to noate, that ceremonies are used, either for a profit, or for a vanitie, or for a duetie. and every lie that is told for a mans private profit: is a deceite, a sinne, and a dishonest parte: for, in what so ever it bee, a man can never honestly lie. and this is a common fault with flatterers, that counterfet them selves to be our friendes, and apply them selves ever to our desiers, what soever they be: not bycause wee would have it so, but to the ende wee should doe them some pleasure, for it. and this is not to please us, but to deceive us. and albeit this kind of fault be, peradventure, by reason of custome sufferable: yet notwithstanding bycause of it selfe, it is fowle and hurtefull, it ill becomes a gentle man to doe it. for it is no honestie to seeke a pleasure by the hurt of another. and if lies and false flatteries, may bee termed ceremonies (as i have saide before:) so oft, as we use them for respect of our gain & profit: so oft wee doe hazard our good name and credite: so that this consideration alone, might move us well to leave all ceremonies, and use them no more. it resteth now that i speake of those y^t bee done of dutie, and of those that be done of a vainesse. as touching y^e first, we must not leave them undone in any wise. for he that faileth to doe them, dothe not onely displease, but doth a wrong to him, to whome they be due. and many times it chaunceth y^e men come to daggers drawing, even for this occasion alone, that one man hath not done the other, that worship and honour uppon the way, that he ought. for to saye a trueth the power of custome is great & of much force, (as i said) and would be taken for a lawe, in these cases. and that is the cause we say: you: to every one, that is not a man of very base calling, and in suche kinde of speach wee yealde such a one, no maner of courtesie of our owne. but if wee say: thou: to suche a one, then wee disgrace him and offer him outrage and wronge: and by suche speach, seeme to make no better reconing of him, then of a knave and a clowne. and although the times past, and other countries, have used other maners: let us yet, keepe ourselves to our owne: and let not us dispute the matter, which is the better of twaine. for wee must observe, not those, that we judge in our owne conceits to be good: but suche, as be currant by custome, & used in our owne time: as lawes, which we be bound to keepe, thoughe they be not all of the best, till suche time, as the magistrates, the prince, or they that have power to amend them, have chaunged them to better. so that it behoves us, hedefully to marke the doings and speache, wherewith daily practise and custome, wonteth to receave, salute, & name in our owne country, all sortes and kinds of people, and in all our familiar communication with men, let us use the same. and notwithstanding the admerall (as peradventure the maner of his time was suche) in his talke with peter the king of aragon, did many times: thou him: let us yet saye to our king: your majestie: and your highnes: aswell in speache as in writing. and if they have followed the use of their time: then let not us breake the fashions of ours. and these doe i call duetifull ceremonies, bycause they proceede not, as we would, or of our owne free willes: but are laide uppon us by the lawes: i meane, common custome. and in suche things, as carry no evill meaning in them, but rather some face of courtesie: reason would and commaundeth, we shoulde rather observe common custome, then dispute and lay the lawe for them. and albeit, to kisse in shewe of reverence, of very right appertaineth to the reliques of saints and there holy matters: yet if it bee the maner of your country, at parting, to say: signori, io vi bascio la mano. or: io son vostro servidore: or els: vostro schiavo in catena: you must not disdaine it, more then other. but, in farewelles and writings, you must salute and take leave, not as reason, but as custome will have you: and not as men wont in times past, or should doe: but as men use at this day: for it is a chorlishe maner to say: what greate gentleman is he i pray you, that i must master him: or: is he becom master parson, that i must kisse his hands? for he that is wont to be (sird) and likewise (sirreth) other: may thinke you disdaine him, and use some outrage unto him, when you call him to his face, by his bare name, and give him no addition. and these termes of seignory, service, & duetye, and such other like unto these, as i have saide: have lost a greate parte of their harshnes, and (as hearbes long steepte in the water) are sweetened, and made softe and tender, by reason of muche speache in mens mouthes, and continuall use to speake them. so that we must not abhorre them, as some rude and rusticall fellowes, full of foolishe simplicitie, doe: that would faine beginne the letters we write to kinges and emperours after this sort, vz. if thou and thy children be in healthe it is well: i am also in healthe: saying, that suche was the beginning of the letters, the latins did write to the magistrates of rome. if men should live by their measure, and go backe to those fashions and maners, our first fathers did use: the worlde then by litle and litle, would come so about, that we should feede uppon acornes againe. and in these duetifull ceremonies, there be also certain rules and precepts, we must observe: that wee may not bee touched w^t vainesse and pride. and first of all, wee must consider the country where wee doe live. for all customes be not currant a like in all countreys. and peradventure that which they use in naples, which is a citye replenished with gentlemen, of good houses, and lordes of greate power, were not so fitte for florens and luke: which are inhabited, for the most part, with merchants and plaine gentlemen, without any prince, marques, or barone amongest them. so that the brave and lordelike manners of the gentlemen of naples transported to florence: should be but waste, and more then needes: like a tall mans gowne cast over a dwarfe: as also the manners of florence shoulde be to pinchinge and straite, for the noble natures and mindes of the gentlemen of naples. and although the gentlemen of venice use great embracings and entertainementes amongst themselves, and fawne without measure the one on the other, by reason of their offices, degrees and favours they looke to finde when they meete and assemble to choose their officers: yet for all this, it is not convenient, that the good men of rouigo, or the citizens of asolo, should use the like solemnities, embraceings and entertainements one to another, haveing no such kinde of cause amongst them: albeit all that same countrie (if i bee not deceived) is falne a litle, into these kinde of follies, as over carelesse and apt inough by nature, or rather learning those maners of venice their lady and mistris: because everie man gladly seeketh to tread the steps of his better: although there be no reason for it. moreover we must have a regarde to the time, to the age, and the condition of him, to whom we use these ceremonies, and likewise respect our owne calling: and with men of credite maintaine them: but w^t men of small account cut them of cleane, or at least, abridge them as muche as wee may, & rather give them a becke then a due garde: which the courtiers in rome can very well skill to doe. but in some cases these ceremonies be very combersome to a mans busines, and very tedious: as "cover your head," sayes the judge, y^t is busied w^t causes, and is scanted of time to dispatche them. and this fellow so full of these ceremonies, after a number of legges and shuflinge curtesis, aunswers againe: "sir i am very well thus." but sayes the judge againe, "cover your head i say." yet this good fellow tourning twise or thrise to & fro, making lowe conges downe to the grounde w^t muche reverence and humilitie, aunswers him, still: "i beseache your worship, let me doe my duetie." this busines and trouble lasteth so long, & so muche time is trifled: that the judge might very nere have dispatched all his busines within that space. then, although it be every honest mans parte, and the duety of every meaner body, to honour the judges, and men y^t be called to worship & honour: yet, where time will not beare it: it is a very troublesome thing to use it, and it must be eschewed, or measured with reason. neither be y^e self same ceremonies semely for young men, respecting their age: y^t ould men doe use together. nor yet can it becom men of meane and base condition, to use the very same, y^t gentlemen & greate men may use one to another. and if wee marke it well, we shall find, y^t the greatest, y^e best men, & men of most valour, doe not alwayes use y^e most ceremonies them selves, nor yet love nor looke a man should make many goodly curtsies unto them, as men that can ill spend their thoughts one matters so vaine. neither must handy crafts men, nor men of base condition, buisie them selves to much, in over solemne ceremonies to greate men, and lordes: it is not lookt for in suche. for they disdaine them, more then allowe them: because it seemes that in such, they seeke, & looke, rather for obedience and duetie, then honour. and therefore it is a foule faulte in a servaunt, to offer his master his service: for he counts it his shame, & he thinks the servant doth make a doubt, whether he is master or no; as if it were not in him to imploy him, & commaund him too. these kinde of ceremonies would be used frankely. for, what a man dothe of duetie, is taken for a debte, and hee finds him selfe litle beholding to him that doth it. but he that dothe more then he is bound to: it seems he parteth with somewhat, and that makes men to love him, and to commende him for a liberall man. and i remember mee well, i have hearde it saide, that a worthy graecian a greate versifier, was ever wont to saye: that he that could skill to entertaine men with a small adventure, made a greate gaine. you shall then use youre ceremonies, as the tailer shapes his garments, rather to large then to litle: but yet not so, that hee cutteth one hose large inough to make a cloke. and if thou doe use in this point, some litle gentle behaviour, to suche as be meaner then thy selfe: thou shalt be counted lowly. and if thou doe asmuche to thy betters: thou shalt bee saide a gentleman well taught, and courtious. but hee that dothe herin to muche, and is over lavishe, shalbe blamed as vaine and light: and perhaps worse thought of too: counted a busie body, a fidging fellowe, and in wise mens sight, a flatterer: which vice, our elders have called, (if i doe not forget me) dowble diligence. and there is no faulte in the worlde, more to bee abhorred, or y^t worsse beseemes a gentleman, then this. and this is the thirde maner of ceremonies, which simply procedeth of our owne will, and not of custome. let us then remember, that ceremonies, (as i have alwayes said) were not so necessarie by nature, but a man might doe well inough without them: as for example, our countrie lived (it is not long since) in maner cleane without any. but other mens diseases have infected us, with these infirmities and many mo. so that, custome and use observed: the rest that is more, is but waste: and such a sufferable leesing, as if it be more in deede then is in use, it is not only unsufferable, but forbidden: and so uppon, the matter, a cold and unsavourie thing to noble mindes, that cannot brouse uppon shrubbes and shewes. and you shall understand, that trusting my owne skill but little, in writing this present treatise: i thought good to consult with many, and to take the judgement of better learned men then my selfe. and this in my reading i finde. there was a king, they call him oedipus: being banished and driven out of his countrie (uppon what occasion i know not) he fled to king theseus at athens, the better to save him selfe and his life, from his enemies, that mainely pursued him. this oedipus now comming before the presence of theseus, by good chaunce hearing his daughter speake, (whome he knew by her voice, for he was blind and could not beholde her with his eyes) he was so presently striken with joy, that, not tarying to doe his allegeaunce and duetie to the king, he did presently embrace, & make much of his daughter before him: his fatherly affection so led him, and rulde him so. but in the end finding his fault, and better advising himselfe of his doings: he would needs excuse it to theseus, & humbly prayd his grace to pardon his folly. the good and wise king, cut of his talke, and bad him leave his excuses, and thus saide unto him: comfort thy selfe, oedipus, and bee not dismayd at that thou hast done. for i will not have my life honoured with other mens woordes, but with my owne deedes. which sentence a man should have alwayes in mind. and albeit men be well pleased, that men doe give them worship & honour: yet when they find them selves cuningly courted, they be soone weary of it, and also disdaine it. for these glaverings, or flatteries i should say, to amend their knaveries & falsehoodes, have this fault withall: that these glavering fellowes doe plainly shewe, they count him, whome they court in this sorte, but a vaine, and arrogant bodie, an asse of grose capacitie, and so simple, y^t it should be an easie matter to baite him and take him too. and these vaine and curious ceremonies, besides that they be superfluous: they beare with all a shape of flattery, so slenderly covered, that every man doth openly see them, and know them plaine: in suche sorte, that they that doe them, to the end to make a gaine, besides that ill that is in them, wherof i spake before: shewe them selves also, gentlemen ill taught, without good maner or any honest fashion. but there is another sorte of ceremonious people, who make it an arte and merchandise, and keepe a booke and a reconing of it. one these men (they say) they must smile, on such men they must laughe: and y^e better man shall sit in the chair, and the other uppon a lowe stoole: which superstitious ceremonies, i beleve, were transported out of spaine into italie. but our country, hath geven them but colde entertainement, and as yet they have taken but slender roote here: for this precise difference of worship, and gentry, is not liked of, with us. and therefore it is but ill maner, for a man to make him selfe judge, which is the better man. but it is much worse for a man to make a sale of his ceremonies and entertainments, (after y^e maner of harlots) as i have seene many gentlemen doe in the court, geving good wordes and faire countenaunces for a rewarde and recompence, of the goods and the time, their servaunts have spent in their service. and sure they that take a pleasure to use over many ceremonies, more then neede: shewe they doe it uppon a lustines and bravery, as men that have nothing elles in them of any valour. and bycause these follies are learned w^t ease inough, and carry withall a litle faire glose in shewe: they bestowe all their whole mindes none other waye. but grave matters they can not abide to weelde, as things to farre above their reache: and coulde finde in their harts to dwell in these toyes and trifles, as men whose capacitie conceiveth nought of importaunce: like tender milkesops that can beare no brunt: or that, beside a glorious outside, have not mettall inough in them to abide a flea biting. and therfore, they could wishe it were so: that these entertainments and acquaintance with men, should go no further then the first sight. and of these there bee an infinite number. and some againe be to full of words, and abound to muche in curtious gestures to cover and hide the defects and faults of their treacheries, and their vile & base natures: for they see, if they should be as baren & rude in their woords, as they be in their deeds & their doings, men would in no case abide them. and to saye a trueth, yow shall finde y^t one of these two causes, drawe most men one, to use these wast and needles ceremonies, and nothing els: which lightly most men cannot away withall, bycause they be hindered by them, & their meanes, to live as they would, and lose their libertie: whiche a man dothe preferre above anything ells. wee must not speake ill of other men, nor of their doings: althoughe it plainely appere, that men do willingly lend good eare to heare it, as easily moved therto, by y^e nature of malice and envy, that pines at our neighbours prosperity and rising to worship & honour: for at length men will eschewe the acquaintaunce of slaunderous people, as much as they shunne the oxe, y^t goreth with his horns, or strikes w^t his feete: making their reconing, that what they tell them of us, asmuche they will tell us, of them. and some ther be, that so quarel at every word, question, and wrangle, that they shew they have litle skill in other mens natures: for, every man desireth the victory should go one his side: and hates it asmuche, to be mastered in words, as to be vanquished in any other acte that he dothe. so y^t, willfully to overthwart a man, it workethe no love and good will: but rather displeasure, rancoure and malice. and therfore, he that sekes to be well thought of, and would be taken for a pleasaunt and good companion, must not so redily use these speaches: it was not so: and, nay: it is as i tell you. i wil lay a wager with you: but he must rather take pains, to apply himself to other mens minds concerning such things, as have matter of small importaunce: by cause the victorye, in such cases, is daungerous: for, the gaininge the cause, in trifling questions, dooth often loose the love of a faithfull friend. and men are so farre out of love & liking, of such hot fellowes: that they will by no meanes growe acquainted with suche, least they be driven every hower to bralle, to chide, and to fighte with them for it. and suche kinde of people doe purchase these names: maister uniciguerra: or, sir contraponi: or, sir tuttesalle: and sometime: il dottor suttile. and if you chaunce otherwhile, to be intreated of the company to speake your mind: i would have you doe it after a gentle sort, without shewing your selfe so greedie to carry the bucklers away, as if you would eate them up for haste. but you must leave to every man his parte: and bee it right or wronge, consent to the minds of the most, or the most importunate: and so leave the fielde unto them: that some other, and not your selfe, may beate and sweat, and chace in the winning of the cause. for these quarelous contentions, bee foule and ill favoured fashions for gentlemen to use: and they get them ill will and displeasure of all men for it: and they bee uncomely for their owne unseemelines, which of it selfe offendeth every good honest minde, as it may chaunce you shall heare hereafter. but the common fault of men is such, and eche man is so infected with this selfe love and liking of him selfe: that he hath no respect or care to please any man ells. and to shewe them selves fine headed, of muche understanding, and wise: they counsell, reprove, dispute, and bralle, to daggers drawing, and allowe nothing els but that they say them selves. to offer advise, unrequested: what is it els but to vaunt youre selfe wiser then he is, whom you do counsell: nay rather it is a plaine checke to him, for his ignoraunce and folly. and therfore, you must not do so, with all your acquaintance generally: but only with your very friendes, or suche whom you are to governe & rule: or els, when a man hapely standes in daunger & perill, how muche a straunger so ever he be. but in our common acquaintance and conversation, let us not busy our selves, and medle to muche with other mens doings. in which fault many doe fall: but most of all, the men of least understanding. for, men of grose capacities consider but litle: and they take no longe time to debate with them selves, as men that have litle busines to doe. but how so ever it be, hee that offereth and geveth his counsell: geves us to thinke, hee hathe this conceite of him selfe: that all the witt is in him, and other poore men have none at all. and sure there bee some, that stand so muche in conceite of their wit: that they will be in maner, at warres, with him, that wil not follow the counsell they give them. and thus they will say: "very well: a poore mans counsell will not be taken: suche a one will doe as he list: suche a one geves no heede to my wordes." as though there were not more arrogancie in thee, that sekest to bring a man to followe thy counsell: then there is in him, that followes his owne advise. and they doe also make the like fault, y^t take uppon them to reprove and correct mens faults, and to geve a definite sentence in all things, and lay the lawe to all men. "suche a thing would not be done: you spake suche woordes: doe not so: say not so: the wine that you drinke is not good for you: it would be red wine. you should use suche an electuarie, and suche pilles:" and they never leave to reprove and correct. and let us passe that over, that otherwhile, they busy them selves so much, to purge other mens grounds: that their owne is overgrowen, and full of thornes and nettles. for it is a mervailous paine unto them, to heare one that side. and as there be few or none, whose minds can frame, to spend their life with a physition, a confessour, and muche lesse a judge that hath jurisdiction and power to controwle and correct all criminall faultes: so is ther not one, that can take any pleasure to live, or make himself familiar with suche censors: so hard, and severe. for, every man loveth libertye: and they woulde robbe us of it, and get to be our masters. so that it is no good manner to be so redie to corect and give rules unto men: we must geve scholemasters and fathers leave to do that. and yet that notwithstanding, experience doth shewe, the childeren and scholers both, do often hide them selves from them, you see. i doe not allow, that a man should scorne or scoffe at any man, what so ever he be: no not his very enimy, what displeasure so ever he beare him: for, it is a greater signe of contempt and disdaine, to scorne a man, then to do him an open wrong: forasmuch as wrongs may be done, either of choler, or of som covetous minde or other. and ther is no man will take a displeasure with that, or for that, he doth not set by: nor yet covet that thing, he doth altogether contemne. so that, a man doth make some accompt of him he dothe wronge: but of him that he scoffes and scornes, he makes no reconing at all, or as litle as may be. and the nature and effect of a scorne, is properly to take a contentation and pleasure to do another man shame and villany: thoughe it do our selves no good in the world. so that, good maner & honesty, would us beware we scorne no man in any case: wherin they be much to be blamed, that reprove men those blemishes they have in their person, either in woords, as master forese da rabatta did, laughing at the countenaunce of master giotta: or in deeds, as many doe, counterfeting those that stutter, haulte, or be crookte shoulderd. and likewise, they that scoffe at any man, that is deformed, ill shapen, leane, litle, or a dwarfe, ar much to be blamed for it: or, that make a gibing and jesting at such follies as another man speaketh, or the woordes that escape him by chaunce: and with all, have a sporte and a pleasure to make a man blush: all these spitefull behaviours and fashions, worthely deserve to be hated, and make them that use them, unworthy to beare the name of an honest gentleman. and such as use to jest at a man, be very like unto these: i meane them that have a good sport to mocke and beguile men, not in spite or scorne, but on a meriment alone. and you shall understand, there is no difference betweene a scorne and a mocke: but the purpose alone and intent a man hath, in the meaning the one or the other. for a man mockes and laughes otherwhile, in a sport and a pastime: but his scorne is ever in a rage and disdaine. although in common speache and writing, wee take the one woorde sometime for the other. but he that doth scorne a man: feeleth a contentation in the shame he hath done him: and hee that dothe mocke, or but laughe: taketh no contentation in that he hath done: but a sport, to be merry & passe the time away: where it would be, both a greefe and a sorrow, perchaunce, unto him, to see that man receave any shame, by any thing he said or did unto him. and althoughe i profited litle, in my grammar in my youthe; yet i remember that mitio, who loved aeschines so muche, that he him selfe had wonder at it; yet other while, toke a sporte & a pleasure to mocke him: as when he said to him selfe: i will go to give him a mocke: so that, i must inferre, that the selfe same thing, done to the very selfe same body: according to the intent of him that doth it, may be either a mocke or scorne. and bycause our purpose, cannot be plainely knowne unto other men: it shall not be good for us to use such parts, as bring men in doubt and suspicion, what our intent and meaning is in them: but rather let us eschewe them, then seeke to be counted jesters. for, it many times chaunceth, in boording and jesting, one tackes in sporte, the other strikes againe in earnest: & thus from playing, they come to fraying. so, he that is familiarly mockte in pastime, recons it, otherwhile, to be done to his shame & dishonour, and therat he takes a disdaine. besides this, a mocke is no better, then a deceite. and naturally, it greveth every man to erre and be deceived. so that, many reasons ther be to prove, that he that seekes to purchase goodwill, and be well thought of: must not make him selfe to cunning in mockes and jestes. it is very true, we are not able, in no wise, to leade this paineful life, altogether without some pleasure and solace: and bycause jestes do geve us some sporte, and make us merry, and so consequently refreash our spirits: we love them that be pleasaunt, merry conceited, and full of solace. so that a body would thinke, i should rather persuade the contrarie: i meane, i shoulde say: it is convenient and meete in company, to use prety mockes, and otherwhile some jestes and taunts. and without doubt, they that can stint after a friendly and gentle sort, be muche more made of, and better beloved then they that cannot skill or have no wit to doe it. howbeit, it is needeful in this, to have a respect to many things. and forasmuche as it is the intent of him that doth jest: to make a sport and pastime at his faulte, whome he doth love and esteeme, and of whom he doth make more then a common account: it must be well lookte to, that the fault, wherin his friend hath fallen, be suche, as he may sustaine no slaunder or shame, or any harme by any talke or jeste he makes uppon it: otherwise, his skil doth ill serve him, to make a good difference betweene a pleasaunt jest, and a very plaine wronge. and there be some men, so short & so testy, that you must, in no wise, be merry, nor use any jesting with them. and that can biondello well tell, by maister philippo argenti in the gallery of caviccioli. and moreover, it cannot be good to jeaste in matters of weite, and muche lesse in matters of shame. for, men will weene that wee have a good sporte (as the common saying is) to bragge and boast in our evill: as it is said, the lady philippe of prato, took a singular pleasure and contentation in the pleasaunt & prety aunswer she made, to excuse her loose and wanton life. and therefore, i cannot thinke that lupo of uberti did any thing extenuat or lessen his shame: but rather increaste it greater, by the jeste that hee made to excuse his faulte, and qualifye the opinion of his cowardly minde. for, where he might have kept him selfe safe without daunger in the castle of laterin, wherein he was besieged round about, and shutte up: hee thought hee had plaide the man good inoughe, in that hee could say at the yealding it up: that "a wolfe doth not love to be besieged and shutte up." for, where it is out of time for to laughe, there to use any jestes or daliaunce, it hath a very colde grace. and further, you shall understand, there be some jestes y^t bite, & some y^t bite not at all. for the first sorte: let y^t wise counsell that lauretta gave for that point, suffice to teach you: that jestes must bite the hearer like a sheepe, but not like a dogge. for if it pinche, as the bite of a dogge: it shalbe no more a jeste but a wronge. and the lawes almost in all countries, will, that who saith any villanie unto a man, shalbe grevously punished for it. and, perchaunce, it were not amisse, to provide with all, some sharp correction for him, that should bite in way of jesting, beyond all honest measure. but gentlemen should make account, that the lawe that punisheth wronges, extendeth as farre to jestes, and that they should seldome or very easily nip or taunt any man. and besides all this, you must understand, that a jest, whether it bite, or bite not, if it be not fine & full of wit, men take no pleasure at al to heare it, but rather are wearied with it: or at least wise, if they doe laughe, they laughe not at the jest, but at the jester him selfe, that brings it forthe so colde. and bycause, jestes be no other thing but deceites: and deceite (as a thing that is framed of subtilenes & craft) cannot be wrought but of men, that have fine and redy wittes, and very present: therefore they have no grace in men that be rude, and of grose understanding: not yet in them alwayes, that have the best and floweing wittes: as, peradventure, they did not altogether become master john boccaccio. but tauntes and jestes be a special redines and aptnes of wit, and quicken the motions of the minde: wherefore they that have discretion, doe not in this point, consider their will, but their disposition of nature: and after they have once or twise tried their wittes, and finde them unfit for suche purpose: they leave to labour them selves any further in that kind of exercise: that it may not chaunce unto them, that hapt to the knight of the lady horetta. and if you looke in to the maners of many, you shall easily see, this that i tell you is true: i say, that to jest or to taunt, is not currant with every man that will, but onely with them that can. and there be many that for every purpose, have in their mouth redy, many of these wordes, which wee call bicticcichi: that have no maner of sense or meaning in them. and some, that use very foolishly and fondly to chaunge sillables into woords. and some you shall heare speake and make answer, otherwise then a man would lightly looke for, without any wit or pleasure in the world in their talke. and if you doe aske them, "doue e il signore?" they answer againe. "doue egli ha i piedi:" and likewise "et gli fece unguer le mani con le grascia di signore giovan boccadoro. doue mi manda egli? ad arno. io mi voglió radere, sarebbe meglio rodere. va chiama il barbieri. et perrhe non il barbadomani." al which be to grose, to rude and to stale: and such were almost, all the pleasaunt purposes and jestes of dioneo. but i will not take uppon me at this time, to discourse of the best and the worst kinde of jestes, what they be: aswel for that other men have written treatises thereof much more lernedly and better then i can: as also, bycause jestes and tauntes, have at first sight, a large and sure proofe of their grace or disgrace: such, as thou canst not do much amisse in this point, w^tout thou stand to much in thy owne conceite, and think to well of thy selfe: for where the jest is prety and pleasaunt, there a man straite is merry, and shewes a liking by laughing, and makes a kinde of admiration of it. so that, where the company geves foorth no liking of thy sportes and conceites, by their mirthes and their laughing: hould thy selfe still then, and jest no more. for it is thy owne faulte thou must think, and not theirs that do heare the: forasmuch as the hearers, as it were allured, with the redie, pleasaunt, and subtile aunswers or questions (do what they can, will they or nill they) cannot forbeare their laughing, but laughe in spite of their teeth. from whom as from our right & lawfull judges, wee must not appeale to our selves. neither must a man, to make other men merie, speake foule and filthie wordes, nor make ilfavoured gestures, distorting his countenaunce, & disfiguring his bodie: for, no man should, for other mens pleasures, dishonest & dishonour him self. it is an arte for a juggler & jester to use: it doth not become a gentleman to do so. we must not then, imitate y^e common and rude behaviours of dioneo. madonna aldruda alzate la coda. nor we must not counterfet our selves to be fooles & unsavorie doltes: but as time & occasion serveth, tell some pretie tale or some news, never heard of before, he y^t can: & he y^t cannot, let him hold his peace. for, these be y^e partes of y^e wit: which, if they be sodain & prety, give a proofe & a shew of y^e quicknes of y^e wit, & the goodnes of y^e maners of him y^t speakes them: which thing doth verie much please men & makes them our lovers & friends. but if they be otherwise, they woorke them a contrary effect. for, a man would weene the asse would play his parte: or y^t some hody dody & louberly lout would friske and daunce in his doublet. there is another pleasaunte kind of communication, & y^t is when y^e pleasure & grace doth not consist in one merrie conceite alone, but in long & continued talke: which would be well disposed, wel uttered, & very wel set forth, to shew y^e maners, y^e fashions, y^e gestures & behaviours of them we speke, of so properly & lively, as y^e hearer should think that he heareth them not rehearsed, but seeth them with his eyes do those very things he heares them to speak of: which be very well observed by the gentlemen and gentlewomen both, in boccace: although yet otherwhile (if i be not deceived) they do affect and counterfet, more then is sightly for a gentleman or gentlewoman to doe, like to these comedie players. and to doe this well, you must have the matter, the tale, or the story, you take uppon you to tell, perfect in your minde: and woordes so redy and fit, that you neede not say in the end: "that thing, and tother thing: this man, what doe you call him: that matter, helpe me to terme it:" and, "remember what his name is." for this is just the trot of the knight of the lady horetta. and if you doe reherse any chaunce, in which there be many speakers: you must not say, "he said and he aunswered:" bycause this worde (he) serveth for all men. so that the hearer that harkens unto it, is easily deceived, and forgets whome you meane. then, it behoves them that discourse matters at length, to use proper names, & not to chaunge them after. and more over, a man must beware that he say, not those things, which unsaide in silence would make y^e tale pleasaunt inoughe and peradventure, geve it a better grace to leave them out. as to say thus. "such a one, that was the sonne of such a one, that dwelt in cocomer streete: do you knowe him? he maried the daughter of gianfigliazzi, the leane scragge, that went so much to saint laraunce. no? do not you know him? why? do you not remember the goodly straight old man that ware long haire downe to his shoulders?" for if it were nothing materiall to the tale, whether this chaunce befell him, or him: all this long babble, and fond and folishe questions, were but a tale of a tubbe: to no purpose, more then to weary mens eares that harken to it, and long to understand the end. as peradventure our dant hath made this fault otherwhile, where he sayeth: "and borne my parents were of yoare in lumbardie, and eke of mantuaes soile they both by country be." for, it was to no purpose, whether his mother were borne at gazuolo, or ells at cremona. but i lerned once of a straunger, a rethorician very lerned, a necessarie lesson concerning this poinct: that men must dispose and order their tale, first with bynames, and then rehearse them (as neede is) that be proper. for, the bynames alwayes beare the respect of the persones qualitie: but the other are to be used at the fathers discretion, or his whome they concerne. and therfore, that bodie whome in your thought and imagination to your selfe, you doe conceive, might be lady covetousnes her selfe: in speache you shall call maister erminio grimaldi: if suche be the common opinion, the countrie hathe of him. and, if there be no man in place where you dwell, so notoriously knowne as might serve the turne fit for your purpose: you must then imagine the case further of, and set him a name at your pleasure. it is very true, that with muche greater pleasure we harken and better beholde (as it were with our eyes) what soever is told us of men of our acquaintance, if the matter be suche as toucheth their maners: then what we doe heare of straungers and men unknowne unto us. and the reason is this: when wee doe knowe, that suche a man is woont to doe so: we doe easily beleeve, he hathe doone so indeede: and wee take asmuche knoweledge of him, as if wee were present: where it chaunceth not so with us, in the case of a straunger. our wordes (be it in longe discourses or other communication) must be so plaine, that all the companie may easily understand them: and withall, for sounde and sense they must be apt and sweete. for if you be to use one of these two wordes: you shall rather say, il ventre: then l'epa. and where your country speache will beare it, you shall rather say: la pancia, then il ventre: or, il corpo. for, by these meanes you shalbe understoode, and not misse understoode, as we florentines say, nor be darke and obscure to the hearers. the which thing our poet, meaning to eschewe: in this very woorde it selfe (i beleve) sought to finde out another, not thinking muche of his paines (bycause it liked him wel) to seeke farre to borrow it els where. and said: remember how the lorde a man was faine to be, for mans offence and sinne in cloister of virginitie. and albeit dant the learned poet, did litle set by suche kinde of rules: i doe not think yet, a man should allow well of him in doing so. and sure, i would not councell you to make him your maister in this point, to learne a grace: forasmuche as he him selfe had none. for, this i finde in a chronicle of him. "this dant, was somewhat proude for his knowledge, scornefull and disdainfull, and muche (as philosophers be) without any grace or courtesie: having no skill to behave him selfe in company." but to come to our purpose againe: i say, our speache must be plaine: which will be easie inough to doe: if you have wit to choose those wordes that be naturally bred in our soile: and with all not so olde w^t age, that they are become rotten and withered: and as overworne apparell, leaft of and cast a side. as, spaldo, and epa, and vopo, and sezzaio, & primaio. and moreover, the wordes you shall use, must have no double understanding, but simple. for by coupling suche wordes together: wee frame that speache that is called aenigma. and to speake it plainer in our owne language, we call it gergo. as in this verse: io vidi un che da sette passatoi fu da un canto all' altro trapassato. againe, our wordes would be, (as nere as they might be) aptly and properly applied to that thing we go about to deliver, & as litle as may be, common to other matters: for, in so doing, a man shall weene, the matter it selfe is openly laide before him: & that it is not expressed with wordes, but pointed foorthe with the finger. and therefore we may more properly say: a man is knowen by his countenaunce, then by his figure or counterfet. and dant did better expresse the matter, when he saide, "the weightes that peize the weight doe make the balance creeke," then if he had saide "crie out and make a noise." and it is a more proper and peculiar speache to say, the shivering of an ague, then to call it the colde. and flesh that is tidie, to terme it rather, fatte: then fulsome. ther be some woordes more in this place to like effect, which i meane not to stande uppon now: bycause our englishe tounge cannot hansomely deliver their perfect meaning. for the italians have (as we have, and all other countreis ells as well as wee) certaine peculiar wordes and termes, so naturally and properly their owne, as it is not possible to expresse them aptly and perfectly in any other language. and therefore the author him selfe, fearing, or knowing asmuche in the sense of these wordes, which he hath inferred in this place (as it were preventing a blame) in maner excuseth and speaketh asmuch as i say, as the matter it selfe that insueth doth shewe. for, the author him selfe following his purpose saithe thus. "i am well assured, if some straunger should, unhappely for my credite, hit uppon this treatise of mine: he would laughe mee to scorne, and say that i taught to speake in riddles, or els in ciphers. for as muche as these wordes, be almost so properly our owne, that other countries have no acquaintance with them: or, if they woulde use them, yet they cannot tell how to understand them. for, who is it that knowes what dant ment in this verse. gia veggia per mezzul perdere o lulla. "sure, i beleeve no man ells but we that are florentines can understand it. notwithstanding, for any thing that i have saide, if there be any fault in this text of dant: it is not in the wordes. but, if he have faulted, it is rather in this: that (as a man somewhat wilfull) he would take uppon him, a matter harde to be uttered in wordes, and per adventure unplesaunt to heare: then that he hath exprest it ill." it is not then for a man to use any talke, with him that understandeth not that language you talke unto him. nor yet, bycause a douche man understandes not the italian tounge, must wee (for that cause) breake of our talke, to holde talke with him, to make our selves counterfets, as maister brusaldo did, and as some other be woont, that fondly and coldly, without any grace, thrust them selves in to chat in their language with whome they talke, what so ever it be, and chop it out every worde preposterously. and many times it chaunceth, the spaniard talkes italian with the italian, and the italian babbles againe in a bravevery and gallantnes, the spanishe toung with the spaniard. and yet, it is an easier thing to know, y^t they both talke like strangers: then to forbeare to laugh at the folish follies that scape them both in speache. let us not therfore use our forreigne language, but when it is needefull for us to be understoode, for some necessitie or other, that appertaineth unto us: and in common use, use our owne tounge, thoughe not altogether so good: rather then a forreigne language, better then our owne that is naturall unto us. for a lumbarde shall speake his owne tounge more aptly (which is, notwithstanding, but base and barbarous) then he shall speake the tuscane, or other language: even bycause he hath not so redily, so proper and peculiar wordes, althoughe he studie much for them, as wee our selves that be tuscanes. but yet, if a man have a respect to them with whome he talkes: and for that cause forbeare & leave out those singular wordes, (which i have spoken of) and in stede of them use the generall and common: his talke, by suche meanes, shall have the lesse pleasure & delight. besides this, it becometh everie honest gentleman, to eschewe those wordes that have no honest meaning. and, the goodnes of wordes consisteth either in their sound, or pronouncing: or, in their sense and meaning. for as much as som wordes speake an honest matter, and yet, perchaunce, there is a certaine unhonest sense perceaved to stand in the pronouncinge of the worde it selfe: as rinculare: which, notwithstanding, is daily used of all men. but if a man or woman should speake after this sorte, & at that verie warning doe it in sight of any (che si dice il farsi indietro) then would the grosenesse of the worde plainlie appeare unto them. but our palate, throughe custome and use, happilie tasteth y^e wine (as it were) and the bestnes of the sense of the worde, and not y^e dregges or leeze. she gave the spanish figge with both her thumbes at once. saith dant. but our women, would be much ashamed to speake so: yea to shunne this ambiguous woord, y^t signifieth a worse matter, they rather say le castagne. albeit yet some of them at unwares, many times, name that unadvisedly, which if another man had spoken to trie them, would have made them blushe to heare that remembred in way of blasphemie, which makes them women. and therefore, suche as be, or would be better mannered or taught, take good heede they doe eschewe, not only things uncleane and unhonest, but woordes also: and not somuche those that be evill indeede, but those that may be, or doe but seeme to be unhonest, foule & filthie: as some men say these are of dant. she blewe large blastes of winde both in my face and under. or els these. i pray thee tell mee where about the hole doth stand. and one of the spirits said. then come behinde and where the hole is, it may be scand. and you must knowe, that albeit two, or moe wordes, otherwhile chaunce to tell one selfe thinge, yet the one is more cleanly then the other. as for example, to say: con lui giacque, & della sua persona gli sodisfece. for this self same speach, if it were in other termes, would be to broad before & to filthie to heare it. and speaking of endymion, you may more aptly say: il vago della luna: then you can say il drudo, althoughe both these wordes doe import and signifie a lover, and a friend. and a much honester speache is it, if you talke of aurora, to call, her. tritons prety gerle and lover, then concubine. and it better becomes a mans and womans mouth, to call harlots, women of the worlde (as belcolore did, who was more ashamed to speake it then to doe it) then to use their common name: thaide è la puttana. and as boccace declared y^e power of meretrici and ragazzi. for, se cosi hauesse nominato dall'arte loro i maschi, come nominò le femine; his talke would have byn foule & shamefull. and withall, a man must not alone beware of unhonest and filthie talke: but also of that whiche is base and vile, and especially where a man talketh & discourseth of greate and highe matters. and for this cause, perchaunce, woorthely some blame our beatrice, sayeing: to passe throughe lethes floud, the highest fates would blott, if man mighte taste the viandes suche, as there dooe fall by lott, and not pay firste a due repentaunce for his scott. for, in my conceite, these base wordes that come out of the tavernes, bee verie uncomely for suche a worthy discourse. and when a man hathe like occasion to speake of y^e sunne, it shall not be good to call it the candell or the lampe of the world: bycause such woordes do put us in minde of y^e oyle, & the stuffe of the kitchin. neither should a man that is well advised, say that saincte dominicke was il drudo della theologia: nor yet talke, that the glorious sainctes have spoken suche base and vile woordes: as for example to say. and leave to scratche whereas the scabs of sinne breake out. for they savour of y^e dregges, & y^e filth of y^e common people, as every man may easily see. againe, in your long and large discourses, you must have y^e like considerations & cares, & some more: y^e which you may more commodiously learne of your maisters y^t teache you y^t arte, that is commonly called rhetorike. and amongest other things, you must accustome your selfe, to use suche gentle and courtious speache to men, and so sweete, that it may have no maner of bitter taste. and you shall rather say, i cannot tell how to say it: then say: you ar deceived: or, it is not true: or, you know it not. for, it is a courteous and friendly parte to excuse a mans faulte, even in that very thing, wherein you know how to blame him. and withall, it doth well, to make the proper and peculiar fault of your friend, indifferent and common to you both: and first, to take one piece to your selfe, and then after, to blame and reprove him for it. wee were deceived and failed muche: we forgot our selves yesterday to doe so. althoughe suche negligence & errour, or what soever it be: be altogether his fault and not yours. and restagnone forgat him selfe muche, when he saide to his companions: if your wordes doe not lie. for, a man should not bring another mannes faithe and honestie in question and doubte. but, if a man promise you any thing, and doe not performe it: it shall not doe well, for you to say unto him, you have lost your credite with mee: without some necessarie cause doe drive you to say so, as to save your owne credite and honestie. but, you shall rather say: you could not do it: or, you did not remember to doe it: then, you have cleane forgotten mee. for, these kinde of speaches, have some prickles & stinges of complaint, anger and choler. so that, suche as use them selves to speake suche churlishe and fumishe woordes, are taken for sharpe and sower fellowes: & men doe asmuche shunne their acquaintance: as to thrust them selves uppon thornes and thistles. and bycause i knowe som, of this naughtie condition & qualitie: i meane some y^t be so hastie and greedy to speake, y^t they take not the sense with them, but over passe it and runne before it, as the grehound, that doth not pinche by overshooting his game: ther fore i will not spare to tell you that, which may be thought needeles to touche, as a thing to well knowen: and that is, that you shall never speake, before you have first considered & laide the plot in your minde what it is you have to saie. for in so doing, your talke shalbe well delivered and not borne before the time. i trust, straungers will easily beare with this worde: if at least they vouchsafe to read these trifles of mine. and if you doe not skorne my preceptes: it shall never chaunce you to say: "welcome maister agostino," to such a one, whose name is agnolo, or bernardo. and you shal never need to say, "tell me your name:" nor say againe, "i saide not well:" nor, "lorde what doe i call him:" nor to hack and to stutter long together, to finde out a worde, "maister arrigo:" no "master arabico:" tushe, what doe i call him i should say, "maister agabito." these fonde & foolish behaviours & fashions, paine a man as much to heare them, as to be drawne and haled with cordes. the voice would be neither hoarse nor shrill. and, when you laugh and sporte in any sorte: you must not crye out and criche like the pullye of a well: nor yet speake in your yawning. i knowe well it is not in us, to geve our selves a ready tongue or perfect voice at our owne will and pleasure. hee y^t doth stutter, or is hoarse: let him not alwayes bable and gabbe, and keepe a courte alone: let him rather amend the defect of his tounge with silence, and hearinge: and withall (if hee can) with studie diminishe the fault of nature. it is an ill noise to heare a man raise his voice highe, like to a common crier. and yet i would not have him speake so lowe and softly, that he that harkens, shall not heare him. and if he be not heard at y^e first time he speaketh, he must speake, the next time, somewhat plainer: but yet, not yoape out aloude, that he make not men thinke he is woode and angry with them: for hee shall doe but well, to rehearse that againe he hath spoken, y^t men may understand what he said. your wordes would be disposed, even as the common use of speache doth require and not unsorted, disordered and scattered confusedly: as many be woont to doe uppon a bravery, whose maner of talke is more like a scrivener (me thinke) that readeth in his mother tounge, the indenture he hath written before in latine: then a man that reasoneth or talketh in his naturall language: as this for example. they drawe by sent of false and fained steps of truth. or if a man should preposterously place his wordes thus. those times did blossomes geve before their time of soothe. which maner of speache, may be otherwhile allowed in versifiers: but it is utterly forbidden in common talke. and, it behoves a man, not onely to shunne this versifying maner of speache, in his familiar and common discourse, or talke: but likewise eschewe y^e pomp, bravery, & affectation, that may be suffered and allowed to inriche an oration, spoken in a publike place. otherwise, men that doe heare it, will but spite it, and laughe him to scorne for it. albeit perchaunce, a sermon may shewe a greater cunning and arte, then common talke. but, everie thing must have his time and place. for, he that walkes by the way must not daunce, but goe. for, every man hath not the skill to daunce, yet every man can skill to goe. but, dauncing is meete for feastes & weddings: it is not to use in the stretes. you must then take good heede you speake not with a majestie. it is thought by many philosophers. and suche is all filocolo, and the other treatises of maister john boccace, except his greater woorke, and litle more perchaunce corbaccio. i would not for al this, that you should use so base a speache, as y^e scum, as it were, and the froth of the meanest and vilest sorte of people, launderers & hucksters: but suche as gentlemen should speake & talke, which i have partly told you before, in what sort it may be done: that is, if you talke of matters that be neither vile, vaine, fowle, nor lothesome. and if you have skill to choose amongest the woords of your owne countrie speache, the purest and most proper, suche as have the best sounde, and best sense, touching nor remembring, in no case, no matter that is foule, vile and base: & if you can place your woords in good order, and not shoofle them together at random, nor yet, with over muche curious studie, file them (as it were) one your beades. moreover, if you do dispose such things as you have to say with discretion. and take good hede that you couple not unfit & unlikely matters together: as for example. as sure as god is in heaven: so stands the staffe in the chimny corner. and if you speake not so slowe, as if you were unlustie: nor so hasty, as if you wer hungrie: but as a wise and a temperate man should doe. likewise, if you pronounce youre woords and your sillables with a certaine grace & sweetnes: not as a scholemaister y^t teacheth young children to read & to spell. neither must you mumble them nor supp them up, as if they were glued & pasted together one to another. if you remember these and such other rules and precepts: youre talke will be liked, and heard with pleasure enoughe: and you shall well maintaine the state and countenaunce, that well besemeth a gentleman well taught and honest. besids these, there be some, that never hould their tounge. and as the shippe that sailes, doth not presently stand still, by taking downe the sailes: so doe they runne forward, as caried away with a certaine braide: and loosing the matter of their talke, yet leave not to babble, but either repeate that againe that is said, or els speake still they cannot tell what. and there be other so full of babble, that they will not suffer another to speake. and as wee doe see otherwhile, uppon the flowers in the countrie where they thresh corne, one pullet pull the corne out of the others beake: so doe they catche the tale out of his mouth y^t beganne it, and tell it them selves. and sure, suche maner of people, induce men to quarell and fight with them for it. for, if you doe marke it wel: nothing moves a man sooner to anger: then when he is soudainely cut short of his will and his pleasure, be it of never so little and small importaunce. as when you gape wide with yawning: another should thrust his hand in your mouth: or when you doe lift your arme redy to hurle a stone: it is soudainly staide by one that stands behinde you. even then, as these doings, and many moe like unto these, which tend to hinder the will and desire of another (albeit but in way of sporte & of play) are unseemely, and would be eschewed: so in talke and communication with men, wee should rather pull one, and further their desiers, by what meanes we can, then stop them and hinder them in it. and therefore, if any man be in a redines to tell his tale: it is no good maner to interrupte him: nor to say that you doe knowe it well. or, if hee besprinckle his tale here and there, with some prety lie: you must not reprove him for it, neither in wordes nor in gesture, as shaking your hed, or scowling uppon him, as many be wont: gloriously vaunting them selves, that they can, by no meanes, abide the taste of a lie.... but, this is not the reason of this, it is the sharpenes and sowernes of their owne rusticall & eager natures, which makes them so venemous & bitter in all companies they come: that no man cares for their acquaintance. likewise, it is an illfavoured condition to stop another mans tale in his mouth: and it spites him asmuche, as if a man should take him by the sleeve & hould him backe, even when he is redie to runne his course. and when another man is in a tale, it is no good maner for you, by telling the company some newes, & drawing their mindes to other matters, to make them forsake him cleane, and leave him alone. for, it is an uncourtious parte for you to leade and carry away the company: which the other (not you) hath brought together. and, when a man tells his tale, you must geve good eare unto him: that you may not say otherwhile, o what?: or, how?: which is many a mans fashion to doe. and this is asmuch trouble and paine to him that speaketh: as to shoofle against y^e stones, to him that goeth. all these fashions, and generally, that which may stoppe, and that which may traverse the course of another mans talke, must be shunned. and, if a man tell his tale slowe like a drawe-latche: you must not yet hasten him forwarde, nor lende him woordes, although you be quicker in speache then hee. for, many doe take that ill, and specially suche, as persuade themselves they have a joly grace in telling a tale. for, they doe imagine you thinke not so well of them, as they themselves doe: and that you would geve them instructions in their owne arte: as merchaunts that live in greate wealth & plentie, would count it a greate reproche unto them, that a man should proffer them money, as if they lived in lacke, & were poore and stoode in neede of releefe. and you must understand, that, every man in his owne conceite, thinkes he can tell his tale well: althoughe for modestie sake he deny it. and i cannot gesse how it cometh to passe, that the veriest foole doth babble most: which over muche prattle, i would not have a gentleman to use, and specially, if his skill be but scant in the matter in talke: not onely, bycause it is a hard matter: but, he must run in many faults that talkes muche: but also, bycause a man weenes, that, he that talkes all the talke to him selfe, woulde (after a sorte) preferre him self above them all that heare him, as a maister would be above his scholers. and therfore, it is no good maner for a man to take uppon him a greater state, then doth become him. and in this fault, not men alone, but many countries fall into, so cackling and prattling: that, woe be their eares that geve them hearing. but, as over muche babble makes a man weary: so doth over muche silence procure as greate disliking. for, to use silence in place where other men talke to and fro: is in maner, asmuche a fault, as not to pay your share and scot as other men doe. and as speache is a meane to shewe men your minde, to whome you speake: so, doth silence againe make men wene, you seke to be unknowne. so y^t, as those people which use to drinke muche at feastes, and make them selves drunke, are wont to thrust them out of their companie, that will not take their drinke as they doe: so be these kinde of mute & still fellowes, coldly welcome to pleasaunt and mery companie, that meete to passe the time away in pleasure and talke. so that, it is good maner for a man to speake, and likewise to hold his peace, as it comes to his turne, and occasion requires. as an old chronicle maketh mention. there was in the parts of morea, a very good workman in stone: who for y^e singular good skill he had in his art, was called (as i take it) maestro chiarissimo. this man (now well strooken in yeares) made a certaine treatise, & therin gathered together al y^e precepts & rules of his arte: as the man y^t had very good skill to doe it: shewing in what sorte the proportions and lineaments of the body, should be duely measured, as well everyone a parte by it selfe, as one respecting another: y^t they might justly & duely be answerable y^e one to the other: which treatise of his, he named regolo. meaning to shewe, that according to that, all the images and pictures, that from thensforth any workeman should make, should be squared & lined forth: as y^e beames, and y^e stones, and the walles, are measured by y^e rules & precepts of that booke. but, for that it is a muche easier matter to speake it, then to worke it, or doe it: and besides that, the greatest number of men, especially of us that be prophane and not learned, have our senses much quicker then our understanding, and consequently, better conceive particular things and examples, then the generall propositions and syllogismes (which i might terme in plainer speache, reasons) for this cause this worthy man i speake of, having regard to the nature of workemen: whose capacities are unfit and unable to weeld the weighte of generall precepts and rules: and to declare more plainely, with all his cunning and skill: having found out for his purpose, a fine marble stone, with muche labour and paine, he fashioned and shaped an image of it, as perfectly proportioned in every parte and member: as the precepts and rules of his treatise had before devised. and as he named the booke, so did he name that image, and called it by name of regolo. now, (and it pleased god) i would i could but one parte of those twoe points, which that noble ingraver & worckeman i speake of, had perfect skill and knowledge to doe: i meane, that i could gather together in this treatise, after a sorte, the due measures of this art i take uppon me to treate of. for, to perfourme the other, to make the second regolo: i meane, to use and observe in my maners, the measures i speake of, framing and forming, as it were, a visible example, and a material image of them: it were now, to muche for me to doe. for asmuch as, it is not inough to have knowledge and art, in matters concerning maners & fashions of men: but it is needefull withall, to worke them to a perfect effect, to practise and use them muche: which cannot be had uppon the soudaine, nor learned by & by: but it is number of yeares that must winne it: & y^e beste parte of mine be runne fourth alredy, you see. but for all this, you must not make y^e lesse reconing of these precepts. for, a man may well teache another the way: although he have gone out of the way himself. and, peradventure, they that have lost their wayes, do better remember the hard wayes to find: then they that never went a misse. and, if in mine infancie, when minds be tender and pliable, like a young twigge, they that had y^e charge & governement of me, had had the skill to smoothe my manners, (perhaps of nature somwhat hard and rude) and would have polished and wrought them fine: peradventure i should have beene such a one, as i travaile to make thee nowe, whome i love no lesse then if thou were my sonne. for albeit, the power of nature be greate: yet is she many times maistered and corrected by custome: but, we must in time begin to encounter and beate her downe, before she get to muche strength and hardines. but most men will not doe so: but rather yealding to their appetite without any striving, following it where so ever it leades them, thinke they must submitte themselves to nature: as though reason were not a naturall thing in man. but, reason hath (as a lady and mistris) power to chaunge olde customes, and to helpe & hold up nature, when she doth at any time decay and fall. but very seldome we harken unto her. and y^t for y^e moste parte, maketh us like unto them whome god hath not endued w^t reason: i mean brute beastes, in whome notwithstanding, something yet worketh: not their owne reasons (for they have none of them selves) but ours: as in horses you see it: which by nature would be ever wilde, but y^t their rider makes them tame, and withal, after a sorte, redy & very well paced. for many of them would have a hard trot, but that the rider makes them have an easier pace. and some he doth teache to stand still, to galopp, to treade the ringe, and passe the carreere: and they learne to doe it all well you see. then, if the horse, the dog, y^e hauke, & many other beastes besides, more wilde then these, be guided and ruled by reason, and learne that which their owne nature cannot attaine, but rather repugneth: and become after a sorte cunning and skilfull, so farre as their kinde doth beare it, not by nature, but by custome & use: how muche then may we thinke wee should excell them, by the precepts and rules of our reason, if wee tooke any heede unto it. but, the senses desire & covet present delightes, what soever they be: and can abide no paines, but puts them of. and by this meanes, they also shake of reason, and thinke her unpleasant, forasmuche as she sets before them, not pleasure, many times, hurtfull: but goodnes and vertue, ever painfull, sower and unsavoury in taste. for, while we live according to the sense, wee are like to the selly sickman, to whom al cates never so deinty & sweete, seeme untoothsome: and he chideth still with his cater and cooke, in whome there is no fault at all for it. for, it is the nature of his disease, and the extremitie of his sicknes, and not the fault of his meate, that he doth not savourly taste what he eates. so reason, which of it selfe is sweete and savourie: seemes bitter in taste unto us, though it have no ill taste in dede. and therfore as nice & deintie felowes, we refuse to make any taste of her: & cover our grosnes, w^t saying that nature hath no spurres nor raines y^t can prick her forth, or hold her backe. where sure, if an oxe or an asse, or a hogge, could speake: i beleeve, they could not lightly tell a more fowle & shamefull tale then this. we should be children still all the time of our riper yeares, & in our extreame age: and waxe as very fooles with gray hoary heads, as when we were very babes: if it were not that reason, which increaseth in us with our yeares, subdueth affections in us and growen to perfection, transformeth us from beastes in to men. so that it is well seene, shee ruleth our senses and bridleth our willes. and it is our owne imperfection and not her faulte, if we doe swarve from vertue, goodnes, and good order in life. it is not then true, that there is not a bridell and master for nature, nay, she is guided and ruled by twaine: custome i meane, and reason. but, as i have tould you a litle before: reason without custome and use, cannot make an uncivile bodie, well taught and courtious: which custome and use, is as it were, bred and borne of time. and therefore they shall doe well, to harken betime unto her, not only for that, by this meanes, a man shall have more time and leasure to learne to be such as she teacheth, and to become as it were a houshould servaunt of hers, and one of her traine: but also bycause the tender age, as pure and cleane, doth easily receave all impressions, and reteineth more lively, the colours wherewith she is dyed: then when a man comes to riper yeares: and also, bycause the things wherein wee have byn nourished and trained from our youth, doe ordinarily please us, above all other things. and for this cause, it is said that diodato, a man that had a singular good gift & grace of utterance, would evermore bee the first that came fourth uppon the stage to shewe his comedie: allthoughe they were all but counterfets unto him, whosoever they were that should have spoken before him. but he would not his voice should occupie other mens eares, after they heard another man speake. although, in respect of his doings, it were a greate deale inferiour to his. seing then, i cannot agree my workes and my wordes together, for those causes i have shewed you before, as maestro chiarissimo did: whoe had as good a skil to do it, as he had knowledge to teache it: let it suffice that i have tould in some part what must be done, by cause i am not by any meanes able to doe it in dede. he that liveth in darkenes, may very well judge what comfort it is to enjoy the benefit of light. and by an over long silence, we knowe what pleasure it is to speake: so when you beholde my grose and rude maners: you shall better judge, what goodnes and vertue there is in courtious behaviours and fashions. to come againe then to this treatise, which growes now to some end: wee say that those be good maners and fashions, which bring a delight, or at least, offend not their senses, their minds, and conceits, with whom we live. and of these, wee have hitherto spoken inoughe. but you must understand with all this, that, men be very desirous of bewtifull things, well proportioned and comely. and of counterfet things fowle and ill shapen, they be as squemish againe, on the other side. and this is a speciall privilege geven to us: that other creatures have no capacitie, to skill what bewtie or measure meaneth. and, therefore, as things not common w^t beastes but proper to our selves: we must embrace them for them selves: and holde them dere: & yet those, much more, y^t drawe nerest to y^e knowledge of man: as which are most apt and inclined to understand the perfection which nature hath lefte in men. and albeit, it be a hard matter, to shewe precisely, bewtie, what maner of thing it is: yet y^t you may have some marke, to know her by: you must understand, y^t where jointly & severally, every parte & the whole hath his due proportion and measure, there is bewtie. and that thing may justly be called faier, in which the saide proportion and measure is found. and by that i did once learne of a wise & a learned man: bewtie he said, would consist but of one, at the moste. and deformitie contrarywise, measured her selfe, by many. as you may see by the faces of faier and goodly women. for, the even lineaments and due proportions of every of them: seeme to have byn created & framed by the judgement and sight of one face alone. which cannot be thought in them that be foule & deformed. for, when you beholde a woman, that hath, peradventure, bigge and bowle eyes, a little nose, blubbe cheekes, a flat mouth, an out chinne, & a browne skinne: you thinke straite that that face is not one womans alone: but is moulded of many faces, and made of many peeces. and yet, you shall finde amongest them, some such, whose partes considered alone by them selves, be very perfect to see to: but all set together, be foule and ill favoured: not for any other cause, but that they be y^e lineaments of many faier women, and not of one: so that a man would weene, shee had borrowed her partes, of this and that woman. and it may be, that painter that had all the faier maides of calabria, naked before him: had none other intent therein, then to judge & discerne in many, y^e partes y^t they have, as it were, borrowed heere one, & there another, of one, alone: to whome restoring from eache y^t was her right: imagining y^t venus bewty should be such, and so proportioned: he set him selfe to paint her. and, you must not think, y^t this is to be seene in the faces, the partes, and the bodies of women alone: but it happeneth more or lesse, in speache, in gestures & doings. for, if you should chaunce to see a noble woman gorgius and gallant, washing of cloutes in a river by y^e highe waye side: althoughe if this were not, you might hapely passe away by her, w^t little heede to her person or state: yet this would not brook you nor like you, y^t her servile doings doe shewe her more then one. for her state should answer her honourable condition and calling. but her woorke is suche, as is meete for women of base and servile life: & although you shall feele, neither ill savour nor sent come from her, nor heare any noise that should offend you, nor any thing els to trouble your minde: yet the foule and filthy maner of doing it, and the unseemely act itselfe: will make you muche to loathe it. you must then beware of these fowle and uncomely behaviours, asmuche, nay, more then of those other, i have spoken all this while. for, it is a harder matter a greate deale, to knowe when a man faulteth in these, then when he faulteth in them. bycause, it is easier much, we see, to feele then to understande. but yet, it may chaunce otherwhile, that even that which offendeth the senses, may also offend the minde: thoughe not altogether after one sorte, as i have told you before: shewing you that a man must apparell him selfe, according to the fashions that other men use: that it may not be thought he doth reprove and correct their doings: the which thing offendeth most men that seeke to be commended: and the wisest men that be, mislike it too. for, the garments of the olde world, have lost their date, for men of this age and this season to weare. and it is suche an ill shapen sight, to see a man clad with other mens cloathes: that a man would weene there would be a fray betwene the doublet & y^e hose: their cloathes doe sit, uppon them so untowardly. so that, many of those matters i have spoken of allredy, or peradventure all, might be aptly rehersed here again: forasmuch as this measure i speake of here, is not observed in these things: nor the time, nor y^e place, nor the worke, nor the worker, accorded & fitted together, so well as it should be. for mens minds and fansies doe like it, & take a pleasure and delight in those things. but i thought it good to apply & speake these matters, rather under y^e badge, as it were, of the senses and desires: then properly assigne them to the minde: that a man may the more easily perceive them: bycause it is a naturall thinge, for everie man to feele and desire: but every man cannot so generally understand, and especially that, whiche we call bewtie, gallantnes or entertainement. it is not inoughe for a man, to doe things that be good: but hee must also have a care, hee doe them with a good grace. and a good grace is nothing els, but suche a maner of light (as i may call it) as shineth in the aptnes of things set in good order and wel disposed, one with another: and perfectly knit and united together. without which proportion and measure, even that which is good is not faire: & the fairenes it self, is not plesaunt. and as meates, though they be good & savourie will give men no minde to eate them, if they have no pleasaunt relish and taste: so fares it with the maners of men other while (althoughe in them selves in no respect they be ill, but foolishe a little, and fond) if a man doe not season them with a certaine sweetenes, which you call (as i take it) grace, and comlines. so that, every vice of it selfe, without any further matter to helpe it (it cannot be chosen) must needes offend a man. for, vices be things so foule and filthie: that honest and modest mindes, will greeve to see their shamefull effects. and therefore, it shall behove them that seeke to be well thought of, with their familiar acquaintance, above all things els to eschewe vices, and especially those, that be foulest and worst: as leachery, covetousnes, crueltie, and other. of which, some be beastly, as drunkennes, and gluttonie: some uncleane, as leacherie: other some horrible, as murther, and such other: all which for them selves, and for the very naughtines, that is properly in them al, all men eschewe more, or lesse: but, as earst i said, generally al, as things of greate disorder, make a man misliked muche of all men. but, bycause i have not taken uppon me to shew unto you, mens sinnes, but their errors: it shalbe no parte of my charge at this time to entreate of y^e nature of vices & vertues: but onely of the seemely & unseemely fashions and maners wee use one with another. one of the which unseemely fashions was, that count richard did use: of which i tould you before. which, as unseemely and unfitting with those other his good and faire maners hee had besides: that same worthie bishop (as a skilfull and cunning maister in musicke will easily here a note out of tune) had quickly founde out. it shalbe then, necessarie for gentlemen and men of good behaviour, to have a regard to this measure i speake of: in going, in standing, in sitting, in gesture, in porte, in apparell, in talke, in silence, in rest and in action. for, a man must not apparell him selfe like a woman: that the attire may not be of one sorte, and the person of another: as i doe see it in some that weare their heads & their beards curled with bodkins, and have their face, and their necks, & their hands, so starchte and painted, that it were to muche for a girle, nay, harlot, that makes a merchandize of it, and sets her selfe to the sale. you must smell, neither of sweete nor of sower: for a gentleman would not savour nastily like a begger: nè del maschio venga odore di femina o di meretrice. i doe not by this forbid, but you may very well use some sweete smelles of sweete waters. your apparell must be shaped according to the fashion of the time, and your calling, for the causes i have shewed you before. for, we must not take uppon us to alter customes at our will. for time doth beget them, and time doth also weare them out. every man may applie those fashions, that be in common use, y^e moste to his owne advantage that he can. for, if perchaunce your legges be very long, and men use but short garments: you may use a meane, not to long, nor to short. and if your legges be to small, to greate, or crooked: make not your hosen of to light and garishe a colour, that it may not call men to looke and to gawre uppon your deformitie. thou must weare no garment that shall be to light, or overmuche daubde with garding; that men may not say, thou hast ganymedes hosen, or wearest cupides doublet. but, whatsoever it be thou wearest, let it be fit and well made for thy bodie: least thou seme to brave it, in another mans cloathes. but with all, thou must in any case respect thy condition or estate. for, a man of the clergie, must not be attired like a souldier: nor a souldier goe like a player. when castruccio was in rome with lodovico bavero at a greate pompe, and triumphe: who was both duke of lucca and pistoia, and count of palazzo, and senatour of rome: this castruccio, being lorde greate maister of the saide lodovico bavero his househoulde: for his bravery, made him a coate of crimsin, uppon the brest wherof, there was this devise, in letters of golde it is even as god will. and uppon the backe behinde. and it shallbe as god will. i beleeve, you thinke this garment, would have become castruccio his trumpeter better, then it could become him. and although kings be free from checke, and may doe what they list: yet, i could never commend king manfrede, whoe ever more used, to suite him selfe in greene. wee must then have a care, that our apparell be not onely wel made for the bodie: but that it be meete for our calling. and withall, it be suche, as the countrie doth use, where wee live. for, as in divers places be divers measures, and yet bying and selling every where used: so in sundry landes be sundrie customes, and yet every where a man may behave him, and apparell him selfe, soberly and comely. these same feathers, which the neapolitanes and spaniardes be wont to weare, and braveries and embroderies: have but ill place amongest grave gowned men, & the attires that citizens doe weare. but their armour and weapons become suche place a greate deal worse. so that, looke what hapely might be allowed in verona, would not, perchaunce, be suffered in venice. for as muche as these gallants, all begarded, and huffing in fethers, & warlike fellowes, would not doe well, in this noble citie so peacefull & civil. suche kinde of people be rather, in maner, like nettles and burres, amongest good and sweete garden flowers, and therefore, they come out of season to men that medle with graver matters then they doe. i would not have a gentleman to runne in the streate, nor go to fast: for that is for lackies, and not for gentlemen to doe. besides that, it makes a man weary, sweate, and puffe: which be very unsightly things for suche men to doe. i would not yet have a man go so softe and demurely, as a maide or a wife. and when a man walkes, it is no good sight to see a man shake his bodie to muche, nor to hold his handes bare and emptie: nor yet cast & fling his armes up & downe, in such sort as a man would weene, hee were soweing of corne in the field: nor stare in a mans face, as if he had spied a mares nest. "ther be some again, in their gate pul up their fete as high as a horse y^t hath y^e spaven: y^t a man would think they did pluck their fete forth of a bushell. other againe stampe their feete so harde on the ground: that they make allmoste asmuche noise as a carte. another goes as if he were splay footed. and suche a one quivers with his legges, as he stands. some other againe, at every foote, stoope to stroke up their hose as they goe. and some set their handes to their sides, and jet up & downe like a pecocke: which fashions doe muche offend men: not as well, but as ill beseeming a man to use them." for, if your horse, perchaunce, doe champe and play on the bit, and gape or lill out his tounge, albeit this geve little proofe of his goodnes: yet it commends him well to the sale: and you shoulde finde a misse of it, if it were otherwise: not bycause y^e horse should be ther fore the worse: but bycause he should shew the lesse courage and pleasure. now, if it stand so, that comelines and grace, be so much made of in beasts, and also in things without life or sense, as experience doth shewe, that, two things of equall goodnes & comodities, beare not for all that, a like price, if a man doe beholde a finer proportion & bewtie, more in the one then he sees in the other: how muche then more, should it be estemed and commended in men, capable of reason. "it is a rude fashion for a man to clawe or scratche him selfe, when he sitteth at the table. and a man should at such time have a very greate care y^t he spit not at all. but, if neede inforce him, then let him doe it, after an honest sorte." i have heard tell, many times, of suche countries that be so sober: that they doe never spitt. and what should then let us, but we may well forbeare it for suche a little while. we must also beware we doe not eate so greedily, that wee get the hicket, or belche withall: as some that feede so fast, that they noy the company with it: they blowe and puffe so loud. likewise, you must not rubbe your teeth with your napkin, & much lesse with your fingers. for these be trickes for a sloven. neither must you openly rince your mouth w^t the wine, and then spit it fourthe. neither is it gentleman like, to carry a sticke in your mouth from the table when you rise, like y^e birde that builds her a nest: or put it in your eare, for that is a barbars tricke. and to weare a toothpicke, about your necke: of all fashions that is y^e worst. for, besides that it is a bauld jewell for a gentleman to pull forth of his bosome, and putteth men in mind of those tooth-drawers, that sit one their benche in the stretes: it makes "men also to thinke, that the man loves his belly full well, and is provided for it. and i see no reason, why they should not aswell carry a spoone, about their neckes, as a toothepicke." it is a rude fashion besides, to leane over the table, or to fill your mouth so ful of meate, that your cheekes be blowne up w^tall: neither must you by any maner of meanes, give another man to know what pleasure you take, in the meate or the wine. for y^t it is for taverners and bousers, to use suche fashions. and to entertaine men y^t sit at your table, with these words: "you eate nothing this morning. there is nothing that likes you." or, "tast you of this or of that:" i doe not allowe of these fashions, although they be commonly received and used of all men. for, albeit by these meanes, they shewe they make much of those they have invited unto them: yet, many times, they make men to leave to eate wher they would. "for, it geves them to thinke, they have their eyes, allwayes uppon them, and that makes them ashamed to feede." againe, i doe not like it, that a man shall take uppon him to be a carver of any meate that stands before him: if he be not muche the better man, that is the carver: that he to whome he carves, may thinke he receiveth some credite & honour by it. for, amongest men that be of like condition and calling, it makes a hart burning: that he that playes the carver, should take more uppon him then another. and otherwhile, y^t which hee carveth, doth not like him to whom it is geven. and more then this, by this meanes he sheweth, that the feaste is not sufficiently furnished, or at least not well disposed in order, when some have muche, & other none at all. and y^e maister of the house, may chaunce to take displesure at that, as if it were done to doe him shame. neverthelesse in these matters, a man must demeasne him self, as common use and custome will allowe, and not as reason & duetie would have it. and i would wishe a man rather to erre in these points with many, then to be singular in doing well. but whatsoever good maner there be in this case, thou must not refuse it, whatsoever is carved unto thee. for it may be thought thou doest disdaine it, or grunt at thy carver. now, to drink all out to every man: which is a fashion as litle in use amongst us, as y^e terme it selfe is barbarous & straunge: i meane, ick bring you, is sure a foule thing of it selfe, & in our countrie so coldly accepted yet: y^t we must not go about to bring it in for a fashion. if a man doe quaffe or carrouse unto you, you may honestly say nay to pledge him, & geveing him thankes, confesse your weakenesse, that you are not able to beare it: or else, to doe him a pleasure, you may for curtesie taste it: and then set downe the cup to them that will, and charge your selfe no further. and although this, ick bring you, as i have heard many learned men say, hath beene an auncient custome in greece, and that the graecians doe muche commend a goodman of that time, socrates, by name, for that hee sat out one whole night long, drinking a vie with another good man, aristophanes: and yet y^e next morning in the breake of the daye, without any rest uppon his drinking, made suche a cunning geometricall instrument, that there was no maner of faulte to be found in the same: and albeit they say besides this, that even as it makes a man bould and hardy, to thrust him selfe venterously otherwhile, in to daungerous perils of life: so likewise it brings a man in to good temper and fashion, to enure him selfe otherwhile, with the daungers of things not ever chauncing: and bycause the drinking of wine after this sorte, in a vie, in such excesse and waste, is a shrewde assault to trie the strength of him that quaffes so lustily: these graecians, would have us to use it for a certaine proofe of our strength and constancie: and to enure us the better, to resist and master all maner of strong temptations. all this notwithstanding, i am of a contrary mind: and i doe thinke all their reasons to fond, and to foolishe. but, we see that learned men have suche art and cunning to persuade, and such filed wordes to serve their turne: that wrong doth carry the cause away, and reason cannot prevaile. and therefore let us give them no credite in this point. and what can i tell, if they have a secret drift herein, to excuse and cover the fault of their countrey, that is corrupt with this vice. but it is daungerous, perchaunce, for a man to reprove them for it: least asmuch happen to him, as chaunced to socrates him selfe, for his over lavish controuling and checking of every mans fault. for, he was so spited of all men for it: that many articles of heresies & other foule faultes were put up against him, and he condemned to die in the end: allthough they were false. for in truthe, he was a very good man, & a chatholike: respecting y^e religion of their false idolatrie. but suer, in that he drunke so muche wine that same night: he deserved no praise in the worlde. for, the hoggshead was able to holde & receive a great deale more, then his companion and hee were able to take: if y^t may get any praise. and though it did him no harme, that was more, the goodnes of his strong braine: then the continencie of a sober man. and let the chronicles talke what they list of this matter, i give god thankes, that amongest many the plagues that have creapt over the alpes, to infect us: hitherto this worst of all the rest, is not come over: that we should take a pleasure and praise, to be drunke. neither shall i ever beleve, that a man can learne to be temperate, of suche a maister as wine and drounkennes. the stewarde of a noble mans house, may not be so bolde to invite straungers, uppon his owne head, and set them downe at his lorde & maisters table. and there is none that is wise, will be intreated to it, at his request alone. but otherwhile, the servaunts of the house, be so malepert and saucie, that they will take uppon them, more then their maister: of which things wee speake in this place, more by chaunce, then that the order we have taken from the beginning, doth so require it. a man must not uncase him selfe, in the presence of any assembly. "for it is a slovenly sight, in place where honest men be met together of good condition and calling. and it may chaunce he doth uncover those parts of his bodie, which work him shame & rebuke to shewe them: besides y^t, it maketh other men abashed to looke upon them. againe, i wold have no man to combe his head, nor washe his hands before men. for such things would be done alone in your chamber, and not abrode: without it be, i say, to washe your hands when you sit downe to the table. for, there it shall doe well, to washe them in sight, although you have no neede: that they with whome you feede, may assure them selves you have done it. a man must not come forthe with his kercheif, or quaife one his head, nor yet stroke up his hosen uppon his legges in company. "some men there be, that have a pride or a use to drawe their mouthes a little awry, or twinckle up their eye, & to blow up their cheekes, and to puffe, and to make, with their countenaunce, sundrie such like foolishe and ilfavoured faces and gestures." i councell men to leave them cleane. for, pallas her selfe, the goddesse (as i have hearde some wise men say) tooke once a greate pleasure to sound the flute & the cornet: & therin she was verie cunning. it chaunst her, on day, sounding her cornet for her plesure over a fontain, she spide her selfe in the water: and when she beheld those strange gestures she must nedes make with her mouth as she plaid: she was so much ashamed of it that she brake the cornet in peces & cast it away. and truely she did but well, for it is no instrument for a woman to use. and it becomes men as ill, "if they be not of y^t base condition and calling, that they must make it a gaine, & an art to live uppon it. and looke what i speake, concerning the unseemely gestures of the countenance and face: concerneth likewise, all the partes and members of man. for it is an ill sight, to lill out y^e tounge, to stroke your bearde much up and downe (as many doe use to doe) to rubbe your hands together: to sighe, & to sorrowe: to tremble or strike your selfe, which is also a fashion w^t some: to reatche and stretche your selfe, & so retching, to cry out after a nice maner, alas, alas: like a country cloune, y^t should rouse him selfe in his couche." and he that makes a noise w^t his mouth in a token of wonder, and other while, of contempte and disdaine: "counterfeteth an ilfavoured grace. and counterfet things, differ not muche from truethes." a man must leave those foolishe maner of laughings, groase and uncomely. "and let men laughe uppon occasion, and not uppon custome. but a man must beware he doe not laughe at his owne gestes, and his doings. for that makes men weene hee woulde faine praise him selfe. it is for other men to laughe that heare, and not for him that telles the tale." now, you must not beare your selfe in hand, that bycause eache of these matters considered a parte, is but a small fault, y^e hole therefore together should be as light: but you must rather persuade your selfe y^t many a litle doth make a mickle, as i tould you from the beginning. and how muche lesse they be, so much the more neede a man hathe to looke well in to them: bycause they be not easily perceived a far of, but creepe in to us by custom, before we be a ware. and, as light expences often used, in continuance of time, doe covertly waste and consume a greate masse of wealth and riches: so doe these light faultes with the multitude and number of them, in secret overthrow all honest and good civilitie and maner. so y^t we must not make a light reconing of them. moreover, it is a nedefull observation to bethinke your selfe, how you doe move your bodie, and specially in talke. "for, it many times chaunceth, a man is so ernest in his tale, that hee hath no minde of any thing els. one wagges his head. another lookes bigg and scowles with his browes. that man pulls his mouth awry. and tother spittes in and uppon their faces with whome he talkes. and som suche there be that move their hands in suche a sorte, as if they should chase y^e flies as they go: which be very unhansome & unseemely maners to use." and i have heard it saide (for you knowe i have byn familiarly acquainted with learned men in my time) that pindarus that worthy man was wont to saye: that "whatsoever it were that had a good & savourie taste: was seasoned by the hands of the graces. now, what shall i speake of them y^t come forthe of their studies with their penne in their eare: and nibble their hankercheifs in their mouthe, or ly lolling w^t their legge over the table, or spit one their fingers, and of a number of other blockishe gestures and fashions more then these, which cannot be all rehearsed well: nor shal not, i meane, put me to further paines to tel them al if i could. for, there be manie perchaunce will say this is to muche, that i have said allredie." finis bibliographical note bibliographical note giovanni della casa, the author of the "galateo," was born near florence in , and died at rome in . he took orders before , and became successively apostolic clerk, apostolic commissary, archbishop of benevento, papal nuncio at venice, and secretary of state under paul iv. he was distinguished as a poet, as a diplomatist, and as an orator. the "galateo" was written between and , at the suggestion of galeazzo florimonte, bishop of sessa, whose "poetic" name it bears in consequence. it was published posthumously at venice, in , in a volume entitled "rime e prose di m. giov. della casa," and was republished separately at milan in , at florence in , and often thereafter. a complete edition of the works of della casa, in three volumes, was edited by casotti at florence in . the "galateo" was translated into french by jean du peyrat in , and again, anonymously, with the original and the translation on opposite pages, in . a spanish version by domingo becerra was published in , and this was followed in by a loose imitation by gracian dantisco, entitled "el galateo español," which in its turn was translated into english in by william styles as "galateo espagnol, or the spanish gallant." in an edition of the "galateo" in four languages, italian, french, latin, and spanish, was published at lyons; and a german version was added in the editions of and . the first english translation, by robert peterson of lincoln's inn, appeared in , as "galateo of maister iohn della casa, archebishop of beneventa, or rather a treatise of the manners and behaviours it behoveth a man to use in his familiar conversation;" and an edition of it, limited to one hundred copies, was privately printed by h. j. reid in . peterson's rendering is based almost entirely on the anonymous french translation of , although he occasionally refers to the italian original on the opposite pages. two proofs of his indebtedness will suffice: where the frenchman renders the single italian word "mezzanamente" by the phrase "avec discretion et médiocrité," peterson follows him with "by discretion and measure;" and again, the single word "questa" in della casa becomes "cette gracieuseté et courtoisie" in the french and "this civilitie and courtesie" in the english version. at least five other english translations have been published. in , thomas gainsford appended to his "rich cabinet" an "epitome of good manners extracted from archbp. j. de la casa;" the treatise was paraphrased by n. w. as "the refin'd courtier" in ; in , an english translation (from the latin version of n. chytraeus) was published "by several young gentlemen educated at a private grammar school near hackney," under the title of "j. casa his galateus, or a treatise of manners;" a version entitled "galateo of manners" appeared in ; and still another version, entitled "galateo, or a treatise on politeness and delicacy of manners," appeared in . della casa was also the author of another treatise on conduct, "trattato degli uffici communi tra gli amici superiori e inferiori," which was translated into english by henry stubbe in , as "the arts of grandeur and submission." peterson's version is reproduced in the present work. the proofs have been collated with the british museum copy of the original edition by mr. w. b. owen, formerly scholar of st. catharine's college, cambridge. in deference to the insistence of the publisher and the general editor, a few passages "perfume our pages only in their native italian." j. e. s. this volume with title-page by t. m. cleland was printed by d. b. updike at the merrymount press boston, u.s.a. mdcccc xiv transcriber's notes: punctuation errors repaired. the following correction has been made to the text: page : not shoofle them together at random[original reads "randon"] manners and rules of good society _or solecisms to be avoided_ by a member of the aristocracy thirty-eighth edition [illustration: decoration] london frederick warne and co. and new york (_all rights reserved_) _printed in great britain_ preface "manners and rules of good society" contains all the information comprised in the original work, "manners and tone of good society," but with considerable additions. in a volume of this nature it is necessary to make constant revisions, and this is periodically done to keep it up to date, that it may be depended upon as being not only the most reliable, but also the _newest book of etiquette_. a comparison of the number of chapters and their subjects with those of the early editions would best demonstrate how the work has grown, not merely in bulk, but in importance also. this extension has allowed many subjects to be more exhaustively treated than heretofore, and it now includes every rule and point that could possibly be comprehended in its title. the work throughout its many editions has commended itself to the attention of thousands of readers, and it is hoped the present edition will be received by society in general with the marked success of its predecessors. contents chapter page introductory remarks ix i. the meaning of etiquette ii. introductions iii. leaving cards iv. paying calls v. precedency vi. the colloquial application of titles vii. points of etiquette as regards royal personages viii. points of etiquette when travelling abroad, and presentations at foreign courts ix. the received mode of pronouncing certain surnames x. presentations at courts and attending courts xi. presentations at levÉes and attending levÉes xii. balls and state balls xiii. dinner giving and dining out xiv. dinner-table etiquette xv. evening parties xvi. weddings and wedding luncheons xvii. wedding receptions xviii. wedding expenses xix. afternoon "at homes" xx. "at home" days xxi. colonial etiquette xxii. indian etiquette xxiii. garden-parties xxiv. town garden-parties xxv. evening garden-parties xxvi. luncheons xxvii. breakfasts xxviii. picnics and water-parties xxix. juvenile parties xxx. written invitations xxxi. refusing invitations xxxii. walking, driving, and riding xxxiii. bowing xxxiv. the cockade xxxv. country-house visits xxxvi. hunting and shooting xxxvii. shaking hands xxxviii. chaperons and dÉbutantes xxxix. presentations at the viceregal court, dublin castle xl. hostesses xli. the responsibilities of lady patronesses of public balls xlii. periods of mourning xliii. engaged xliv. silver weddings xlv. subscription dances xlvi. giving presents xlvii. christening parties index introductory remarks the title of this work sufficiently indicates the nature of its contents. the usages of good society relate not only to good manners and to good breeding, but also to the proper etiquette to be observed on every occasion. not only are certain rules laid down, and minutely explained, but the most comprehensive instructions are given in each chapter respecting every form or phase of the subject under discussion that it may be clearly understood what _is_ done, or what is _not_ done, in good society, and also how what _is_ done in good society should be done. it is precisely this knowledge that gives to men and women the consciousness of feeling thoroughly at ease in whatever sphere they may happen to move, and causes them to be considered well bred by all with whom they may come in contact. a solecism may be perhaps in itself but a trifling matter, but in the eyes of society at large it assumes proportions of a magnified aspect, and reflects most disadvantageously upon the one by whom it is committed; the direct inference being, that to be guilty of a solecism argues the offender to be unused to society, and consequently not on an equal footing with it. this society resents, and is not slow in making its disapproval felt by its demeanour towards the offender. tact and innate refinement, though of the greatest assistance to one unused to society, do not suffice of themselves; and although counting for much, cannot supply the want of the actual knowledge of what is customary in society. where tact and innate refinement do not exist--and this is not seldom the case, as they are gifts bestowed upon the few rather than upon the many--then a thorough acquaintance with the social observances in force in society becomes more than ever necessary, and especially to those who, socially speaking, are desirous of making their way in the world. those individuals who have led secluded or isolated lives, or who have hitherto moved in other spheres than those wherein well-bred people move, will gather all the information necessary from these pages to render them thoroughly conversant with the manners and amenities of society. this work will be found of equal service to both men and women, as in each chapter the points of social etiquette to be observed by both sexes have been fully considered. those having the charge of young ladies previous to their introduction into society, either mothers, chaperons, or governesses, will also derive much useful and practical information from the perusal of this work, while to those thoroughly versed in the usages of society it cannot fail to commend itself, containing as it does many useful and valuable hints on social questions. manners and rules of good society chapter i the meaning of etiquette what is etiquette, and what does the word convey? it is a poor one in itself, and falls very far short of its wide application. it has an old-fashioned ring about it, savouring of stiffness, primness, and punctiliousness, which renders it distasteful to many possessing advanced ideas; and yet the word etiquette is not so very old either, as johnson did not include it in his dictionary, and walker apologises for introducing it into his, and according to the authorities he quotes, it is supposed to be derived from stichos, stichus, stichetus, sticketta, and from thence to etiquette. but whether derived from the latin or the french--and many incline to the latter opinion--there is no doubt that could a new word be found to replace this much abused one, it would be a welcome addition to our vocabulary. the word has unfortunately become associated in our minds with forms, ceremonies, and observances, in an exaggerated degree; and it has been so constantly misused and misinterpreted and misunderstood that ridicule and contempt have been most unjustly and unfairly thrown upon it. the true meaning of etiquette can hardly be described in dictionary parlance; it embraces the whole gamut of good manners, good breeding, and true politeness. one of the reasons which have no doubt contributed to bring the word "etiquette" into disrepute, is the manner in which the subject has been handled by incompetent people, who, having but a very hazy and obscure knowledge, if any knowledge at all, yet profess to write guides to polite manners--rambling and incoherent guides, which not only provoke a smile from those better informed, but mislead and bewilder any one rash enough to consult them, without previous inquiry as to whether they are safe to follow. a little caution on this head would insure the most correct and reliable work being secured amongst so much that is unreliable. some people read everything that is written on the subject of etiquette, not only those who are ignorant and wish to learn something of its laws, but those who are thoroughly well versed in them and who, one might suppose, had nothing to learn; still these latter like to see what is written, to feel the satisfaction of being supported in their own knowledge by a well-informed writer; or of finding amusement in the absurdities gravely advanced by some one writing from another sphere than that where _savoir vivre_ reigns. others attach a very narrow meaning to the word etiquette, and neither accept it nor understand it in its true sense; they have an idea that its rules influence and govern society in general. rules of etiquette are from their point of view but trammels and shackles; let them be cast off or burst through, say they; let every one do as he likes; let all behave as they like; we are in a free country, why should we not wipe our mouths upon the tablecloth if we please? others again, devour books of etiquette on the quiet; they are very much in want of instruction as every one knows, but they have not the courage to confess that they are awake of this want, and are trying to pick up some knowledge of this kind to be useful to them; as their aim is to rise in the social scale, they would not let their friends know for worlds about this new study, but they know it, and find that they have improved, that they do not commit as many _gaucheries_ as heretofore; still, they have caught the letter rather than the spirit of etiquette, they have read the rules it prescribes, and act up to them as far as their memories serve them; but they have failed in one essential particular of understanding that courtesy, consideration towards others, and unselfishness, are the sources of true politeness from which etiquette springs. there is an idea amongst some few people who have mixed little in the world, and moved but in one fixed groove, that the more exalted the sphere, the more perfect the manners. it is needless to attempt to refute such a fallacy as this, for examples of the most perfect manner are to be met with not only amongst those who can boast of long lineage and high birth, but also amongst those who lay claim to neither. our present code of etiquette is constructed upon the refinement, polish, and culture of years, of centuries. wealth and luxury, and contact with all that is beautiful in art and nature, have in all ages exercised a powerful influence on the manners of men; we do not say on the times, as unfortunately these advantages did not reach down to the many but were confined to the strictly few; but in these modern days the many have come, and still come, within the charmed circle; the ring broadens, ever widens; it is not now as in olden days that "their lot forbade." on the contrary, the possession of wealth or of talent is the open sesame to the most refined and cultured circles. the word etiquette is too narrow for all it embraces; it must be viewed in a double light, and be taken from a moral point as well as from a conventional one. a kindly nature, and an unselfish spirit are never wanting in true politeness, but the conventionalities of society give the finish and completeness to the whole, the colour, as it were, to the picture. in some the conventional spirit is uppermost and they have at best but a surface polish. in others the kindly feelings of the heart are allowed full play, and no act of genuine politeness is omitted or left undone in their intercourse with their fellows, and these graces of kindly politeness linger in the memory, trivial though they may have been, years after one has lost sight of this true gentleman or thorough lady, and one says of him, "what a charming man he was, how courteous and considerate, and how kind!" and of her, "she was the sweetest and prettiest-mannered woman i ever met." it is only given to the very few to be thoroughly and unaffectedly charming without a shadow of self-consciousness or effort. to assume a would-be charming manner for the moment, with the desire to be unusually pleasing to some one in particular, does not confer the enviable reputation of having a charming manner. it does not sit easy enough to be altogether natural; it conveys the idea of being put on for the occasion, and, like all other imitations, it hardly ever pleases and seldom deceives. etiquette and true politeness would have us go further than this, and our manners of to-day should be our manners of to-morrow, and not variable according to place and persons. the world is quick to note these uncertain demeanours, and every one's measure is readily taken and retained. the rules of etiquette are indispensable to the smooth working of society at large. take, for example, the etiquette of precedency, in force both in public and in private: on every public occasion, and in every private circle, precedency steps in to render assistance, and is as necessary in the smallest private circle as in the largest public gathering, because it assigns to every one his or her place as far as claim can be laid to place. mistakes in the matter of precedency are not only committed by those who have enjoyed few social advantages, but by those also who have had everything in their favour. young ladies, for instance, when married from the schoolroom, as it were, often make grave mistakes on the question of precedency, if they do not ignore it altogether. the etiquette of card leaving and that of paying calls are indisputably necessary and only the very ignorant would attempt to gainsay their utility; without these aids to order and method all intercourse between friends and acquaintances would be uncertain and chaotic; as it is there is little excuse when the right thing is not done, and any departure from the simple rules laid down on these heads, is the best possible proof of the standing, position, and associations of the one at fault. any one point of etiquette if brought to the bar of common-sense would be pronounced reasonable, proper, and sensible; and there is strictly speaking no question of etiquette that cannot be thus judged and upon which a like verdict would not be given. there is no one rule of etiquette that can be described as absurd or ridiculous, arbitrary or tyrannical, and taken collectively the rules are but social obligations due from one person to another. why should we not be a well-mannered people? why should we not be refined, cultivated, and polished in our demeanour and bearing? why should we not seek to charm if we can? why should we not cultivate and encourage in ourselves consideration, thoughtfulness, and graciousness towards others in the smallest details of daily life? chapter ii introductions there are ceremonious introductions and unceremonious introductions, premeditated introductions and unpremeditated introductions; but, in all cases, introductions should never be indiscriminately made--that is to say, without a previous knowledge on the part of those making them as to whether the persons thus introduced will be likely to appreciate each other, or the reverse, or unless they have expressed a desire to become acquainted. for instance, a lady should not introduce two of her acquaintances residing in a country town or watering-place, moving in different circles, unless they have each expressed such a desire. * * * * * =an undesired introduction=, if made, compels the one to whom it is the most unwelcome, to treat the other with marked coldness, or to continue an acquaintance that is distasteful. should the slightest doubt exist as to how an introduction will be received--whether the meditated introduction is a spontaneous desire on the part of a lady or gentleman, or whether one person expressed a wish to make the acquaintance of another person and expressed that wish to a mutual friend--the received rule is to consult the wishes of both persons on the subject before making the introduction. * * * * * =when a difference of rank= exists between two persons, it would be sufficient to ascertain the wishes of the person of highest rank alone. a person about to make an introduction, should say to the one lady, but not in the hearing of the other, "mrs. a----, may i introduce mrs. b---- to you?" or some such formula, according to the degree of intimacy existing between herself and mrs. a. (see "the art of conversing.") when two ladies are of equal rank, the wishes of the person with whom the person making the introduction is least intimate should be consulted. in the case of one person having expressed a wish to make the acquaintance of another, there remains but the wishes of one person to ascertain. acquiescence having been given, the introduction should be made. in making an introduction, the lady of lowest rank should be introduced to the lady of highest rank; in no case should the lady of highest rank be introduced to the lady of lowest rank. this point of etiquette should always be strictly observed. * * * * * =a gentleman should always be introduced to a lady=, whatever his rank may be, without reference to her rank, whatever it may be. this rule is invariable, and is based upon the privilege of the sex--"_place aux dames_." it is not usual to ascertain a gentleman's wishes as to whether he will be introduced to a lady or not, although at a ball it is usual to do so when the introduction is made for a special object, viz., that of obtaining a partner for a lady; and as a gentleman may be either unable or unwilling to ask the lady to dance, it is incumbent to ascertain beforehand whether the introduction is desired or not, otherwise the introduction would be of no avail for the purpose, and prove a disappointment to the lady. "would you like to be introduced to miss a----?" or some such polite phrase (see "the art of conversing"), is the sort of formula by which to ascertain a gentleman's wishes as to an introduction in the ball-room; as ball-room introductions are understood to mean an intention on the part of a gentleman to ask a lady to dance or to take her in to supper. in general society, gentlemen are supposed to seek, rather than to avoid the acquaintance of ladies, irrespective of whatever sets in society to which they belong. it is immaterial to a gentleman in which set in society his acquaintances move, and he can be polite to all without offending any in their several circles. with regard to his own sex a gentleman is generally as exclusive as to the acquaintanceships which he forms, as is a lady with regard to the acquaintanceships which she forms. reciprocity of taste is the basis on which acquaintanceships between men are established, subject, in a certain measure, to social position; though this rule is itself subject to wide exceptions. it is the rule for a gentleman to ask a mutual friend, or an acquaintance, for an introduction to a lady, and it is the received rule to do so when a gentleman desires to be introduced to any lady in particular; but gentlemen do not ask to be introduced to each other, unless some special reason exists for so doing--some reason that would commend itself to the person whose acquaintance was desired, as well as to the person making the introduction; otherwise, such a wish would appear to be either puerile or sycophantic, thus the request might meet with a refusal, and the proffered acquaintanceship be declined. * * * * * =when introductions are made between ladies=, an unmarried lady should be introduced to a married lady, unless the unmarried lady is of a higher rank than the married lady, when the rule is reversed. the correct formula in use when making introductions is "mrs. x----, lady z.," thus mentioning the name of the lady of lowest rank first, as she is the person introduced to the lady of highest rank, "mrs. x----, lady z.," is all that need be said on the occasion by the person making the introduction. when the ladies are of equal rank it is immaterial which name is mentioned first; but there generally exists sufficient difference in the social position of the two ladies to give a slight distinction in favour of the one or of the other, which the person making the introduction should take into consideration. when the introduction has been made, the ladies should bow to each other, and either lady should make a slight remark. it is not usual for ladies on being first introduced to each other to shake hands, but only to bow; but there are very many exceptions to this rule. when one lady is of higher rank than the other, should she offer to shake hands, it would be a compliment and a mark of friendliness on her part. when a person introduces two intimate friends of his or hers to each other, they would be expected to shake hands, instead of bowing only. the relations of an engaged couple should, on being introduced, shake hands with both bride and bridegroom elect, as should the intimate friends of an engaged couple; as also should the relations of the two families on being introduced to each other. it is the privilege of the lady to be the first to offer to shake hands, in every case, when a gentleman is introduced to her. a lady should shake hands with every one introduced to her in her own house--that is to say, whether the person is brought by a mutual friend, or is present by invitation obtained through a mutual friend. * * * * * =at dinner-parties=, both small and large, the hostess should use her own discretion as to the introductions she thinks proper to make. it is not customary to make general introductions at a dinner-party; but in sending guests down to dinner, who are strangers to each other, the host or hostess should introduce the gentleman to the lady whom he is to take down to dinner. it would be quite unnecessary to ask the lady's permission before doing so. it would be sufficient to make the introduction a few moments before dinner was announced, and the usual formula is, "mrs. a., mr. b. will take you in to dinner." a bow is the recognition of this introduction. when the majority at a dinner-party are strangers to each other, a host or hostess should introduce one or two of the principal guests to each other, when time allows of its being done before dinner is served; such introductions are oftener made at country dinner-parties than at town dinner-parties. a hostess should, in some instances, introduce ladies to each other in the drawing-room after dinner if the opportunity offers, and she considers it advisable to do so. as a rule, a host seldom introduces gentlemen to each other in the dining-room after dinner, as they address each other as a matter of course on such occasions. a hostess should introduce her principal guests to each other, at five-o'clock teas, garden-parties, small "at homes," etc.--that is to say, gentlemen to ladies--for the purpose of their taking the ladies to the tea-room. in this case also, the introduction should be made without previously consulting the lady; and a gentleman, knowing the reason of the introduction, should at once proffer the expected civility. at these gatherings a hostess should use her own discretion as to any general introductions she thinks proper to make, and should introduce any gentleman to any lady without previously consulting the lady if she thinks the introduction will prove agreeable to her. when introducing ladies to each other, she should give married ladies, and ladies of rank, the option of the introduction; but should introduce young unmarried ladies to each other if she thinks proper. * * * * * =when callers arrive simultaneously=, the hostess should introduce them directly or indirectly to each other, if there is no social reason to the contrary. when a hostess is aware that her visitors do not desire each other's acquaintanceship, or, if she considers that the introduction is not altogether a suitable one, agreeable to both persons, she should not make it, but converse with each visitor in turn, at the same time not allowing the conversation to become too general. at large gatherings, persons desirous of avoiding each other's acquaintanceship, could be present at the house of a mutual acquaintance without coming into direct contact with one another, providing the host and hostess possessed sufficient tact and discretion not to attempt to effect a _rapprochement_ between them. * * * * * =at country-house parties=, the hostess should introduce the principal ladies to one another on the first day of their arrival; but if it is a large party, introductions should not be generally made, but should be made according to the judgment of the hostess. the fact of persons being guests in the same house constitutes in itself an introduction, and it rests with the guests thus brought together whether the acquaintanceship ripens into subsequent intimacy or not. the same remark applies in a degree to afternoon teas and "at homes." the guests converse with each other if inclined to do so. the act of so conversing would not constitute an acquaintanceship, although it might, under some circumstances, establish a bowing acquaintanceship, especially between gentlemen. ladies should not bow to each other after only exchanging a few remarks at afternoon tea, or at a garden-party, unless there were some particular social link between them to warrant their so doing, in which case the lady of highest rank should take the initiative. * * * * * =introductions at public balls.=--it is erroneous to suppose that it is the duty of stewards to make introductions at public balls; it is the exception, and not the rule, for stewards to introduce persons to each other who are strangers to themselves. society objects, and the stewards object, to making promiscuous introductions, on the following grounds: first, as regards the chaperon, whether mother or relative, who has the charge of a young lady; then as regards a young lady herself; and last, but not least, as regards the position occupied by the steward himself. a chaperon naturally looks and feels displeased when a steward who is a stranger to herself offers to introduce a man who is evidently a stranger to him, which fact she gathers by his saying, "this gentleman wishes to be introduced to your daughter," or by his asking the stranger his name before making the introduction. a chaperon is responsible for the acquaintances a young lady forms while under her charge at a ball, and if amongst her own friends and acquaintances she cannot find partners for her, she would prefer that she spent a comparatively dull evening than that she should run the risk of forming undesirable acquaintances. young ladies have not always the discretion possessed by their elders, or sufficient knowledge of the world to do the right thing. thus, some young ladies would either coldly decline the introductions, or if the introductions were made, would as coldly decline to dance, whilst others, anxious to dance, would accept both the introductions and the partners, and take their chance as to whether their brothers would like to see them dancing with strangers thus introduced. a steward himself particularly dislikes to be made responsible for a man he does not know; and whether a chaperon and a young lady are old friends of his, or whether they are merely new acquaintances, they equally trust to his not introducing men to them whom they would not care to know, and of whom he knows nothing save that they have solicited an introduction to them. very few stewards care to accost a lady whom they merely know by sight and by name for the purpose of introducing a stranger; they prefer to decline to make the introduction, on the plea of not having the honour of the lady's acquaintance. stewards consider that the position of a young man must be a peculiar one, and his presence at a ball somewhat of an anomaly, if he does not possess an acquaintance in the room, through whom he can become known to one or other of the stewards, or through whom he can be introduced to any particular lady with whom he may desire to dance. when a gentleman is introduced to a young lady at a public ball, it generally means that he is introduced to her as a partner, and that though he may not ask her for the next dance, he will for a subsequent one, or that he will at least offer to take her in to supper, or, if earlier in the evening, to give her some tea, or if she declines these civilities, that he will continue a conversation with her until the next dance commences, or until a dance is over. when a gentleman does neither of these things, but walks away as soon as the introduction is made, it is a proof how little he desired it, and that doubtless the option was not given him of refusing it. good-natured friends of both sexes know how difficult it is to get partners for well-dressed, well-mannered, good-looking girls at a ball, unless they are more than ordinarily attractive in some way or other, in which case they are popular and sought after, and the only difficulty rests with the young ladies themselves as to how they shall best apportion the dances so as to satisfy their numerous partners, or persuade their chaperons to stay for one more dance which they have promised to, etc. it is a well-known fact in the ball-going world that the majority of young men insist upon being introduced to the most popular girls in a ball-room, and refuse being introduced to one who does not appear to have plenty of partners. public balls are in reality made up of a number of small parties and different sets, each set or party being entirely independent of the other. at county balls the county people take large house-parties, and each house-party does or does not mingle with other house-parties, according to standing or inclination. if three large house-parties join forces at a ball they form a very imposing majority; but there are other sets in the same ball-room, dancing to the same band and adjourning to the same supper-room, equally apart and equally distinct. at balls held at watering-places, although the residents do not take large house-parties, yet they join forces with those residents with whom they are acquainted, reinforced by friends who come down purposely to be present at the ball. thus, on the face of it, a steward's introductions cannot fail to be ill-received, in whatever set he may be coerced into making them; and it is well understood that introductions, to prove acceptable, should only be made through friends and acquaintances, and even then with tact and judgment. as the stewards of a ball are usually the most influential gentlemen in the place, it naturally follows that they are acquainted with many, if not with all, of the principal people present, therefore when they make introductions it is not by virtue of their office, but simply as a matter of friendship, and through being personally acquainted with those introduced by them. introductions out of doors are rather a matter of inclination than not, as, for instance, when a lady is walking with another lady to whom she is on a visit she should introduce any friends to her hostess she might happen to meet, and her hostess should do likewise if time and opportunity offer for so doing; should any reason exist for not making an introduction on the part of either lady, it should be explained when they are again alone, as were either of the ladies to exclude the other from the conversation it would be considered discourteous towards the one excluded. when two ladies accidentally meet when out walking, and are subsequently joined by two or more ladies, introductions should not be made by either of the ladies, unless some special reason exists for so doing. a lady, as a rule, should not introduce gentlemen to each other unless one of them is her host, when it would be correct to do so. * * * * * =how to act on the occasion of an introduction= is determined almost entirely upon the reason for its being made, and by whom and to whom the person is introduced. even the _locale_ has something to do with it, and thus a variety of issues are raised, upon which an instantaneous judgment has to be given. the mind has to travel with lightning rapidity over the ground to arrive at a correct course of action; but the mind does not always respond to the call made upon it: it hesitates, and acts not upon the outcome of reflection, but upon the spur of the moment. * * * * * =the received rule is not to shake hands=, but merely to bow on being introduced; but this rule under certain circumstances would not meet the case; it would disappoint the one introducing and the one introduced. for instance if a relative of the former is the person introduced a bow would be a very chilling response to the introduction made; to shake hands, on the contrary, would be the correct thing to do, and both persons should offer at the same moment this cordial recognition. on the other hand, if a casual introduction is made without any premeditation, and those introduced are totally unknown to each other, an exchange of bows is all that is required of them. * * * * * =amongst the exceptions for not merely bowing= on being introduced are the introductions made between young ladies and elderly ones, and between young ladies themselves. an elderly lady, as a general rule, shakes hands with a girl introduced to her with the idea of being cordial and kind, not to say condescending, and girls generally shake hands with each other in place of bowing, as acquaintanceships formed by them have not the importance that attaches to those of older ladies; besides, a greater readiness to make friends is the privilege and characteristic of youth. * * * * * =men take very much the same view= as regards introductions as do women--that is to say, if an introduction is made by a relative of the man introduced, the men would shake hands and not merely bow. this holds equally good where intimate friends are concerned: they almost rank on the footing of relations, and a cordial reception is given to an introduction thus made. when casual introductions are made of necessity rather than of intention men do not shake hands. when "i think you have met a." or "i think you know mr. a." is said--the one by a host and the other by a hostess--nothing further is required from either than a bow and a smile of acquiescence accepting the introduction and a disclaimer is not expected if "mr. a." is not actually known. the uncertainty is an excuse for making the introduction. * * * * * =ladies do not rise from their seats on being introduced either at an "at home"= or before dinner is announced, or after dinner, or when calling when people are introduced to them, or when they themselves are introduced. half an exception occurs, it is true, at crowded "at homes," when to rise and talk to the lady introduced is almost a necessity: there is no vacant seat for her to take, and, therefore, if both do not stand, conversation is at a deadlock, as the few first conventional remarks made by either are lost in the general buzz going on around; also, it is awkward and ungraceful for a lady to bend over one seated for the purpose of saying a few platitudes. "introductory remarks," or remarks following upon introductions, have too often a melancholy ring of commonplaceness about them and are distinctly trite. how can they be otherwise? to venture out of the commonplace into originality would be suspicious of eccentricity, and no one wishes to be considered a little odd. * * * * * =before and after dinner, when introductions are made= between ladies it is to those seated near to each other, and, therefore, there would be no occasion to rise, as there might be at an "at home." there is no question of a lady rising from her seat when a man is introduced to her, unless that man is her host, when she should rise and shake hands with him, or a clerical dignity--a bishop for instance, if opportunity allows of it, and on a semi-official occasion. this question does not trouble men, as they are usually found standing, or they are brought up to a person to be introduced, and even if a man ventures upon sitting down at an "at home," or before dinner is announced, he springs to his feet with alacrity when any approach is made in the matter of introducing him to a fellow guest. * * * * * =introductions often have to be made at afternoon calls=, supposing that two or three callers only are present and the hostess feels that she must render the talk general by making some kind of introduction, direct or indirect, as she thinks best. the ladies thus introduced remain seated and bow. they do not shake hands even under the exceptional conditions previously referred to, but they would at once join in the talk that passes for conversation, and on departure would shake hands with the relative in question after having shaken hands with the hostess and having expressed pleasure at meeting this near relative--mother or sister, or whoever she may happen to be. * * * * * =introductions between callers= made under enforced circumstances have not much bearing on future acquaintance. those introduced pass so short a time in each other's company, and know practically nothing of each other's surroundings, that they are uncertain whether at future meetings they ought to recollect that such introductions have taken place, and whether they should bow or forget. actually it would be correct to bow if the opportunity is given so to do, but unless the wish to bestow recognition is mutual it is of little avail if grudgingly given, and it would be worse still were it withheld. some people have short memories for faces, and others are short-sighted, and both these drawbacks have to be reckoned with when expecting recognition from a person to whom one has been thus introduced. chapter iii leaving cards the etiquette of card-leaving is a privilege which society places in the hands of ladies to govern and determine their acquaintanceships and intimacies, to regulate and decide whom they will, and whom they will not visit, whom they will admit into their friendship, and whom they will keep on the most distant footing, whose acquaintance they wish further to cultivate and whose to discontinue. it would seem that the act of leaving cards is but imperfectly understood, and that many erroneous impressions prevail respecting the actual use of visiting cards: the object of leaving cards is to signify that a call has been made, due civility shown, and a like civility expected in return. leaving cards, or card-leaving, is one of the most important of social observances, as it is the ground-work or nucleus in general society of all acquaintanceships. leaving cards, according to etiquette, is the first step towards forming, or towards enlarging, a circle of acquaintances, and the non-fulfilment of the prescribed rules is a sure step in the opposite direction. the following is the received code of card-leaving in all its details according to the etiquette observed in good society by both ladies and gentlemen, and should be faithfully followed. * * * * * =a lady's visiting card= should be printed in small, clear copper-plate script, and free from any kind of embellishment as regards ornamental or old english letters. it should not be a thin card, and should be three inches and five eighths in width, and slightly under two and a half in depth. the name of the lady should be printed in the centre of the card, and her address in the left-hand corner. if she has a second address, it should be printed in the opposite corner of the card. if the second address is but a temporary one, it is usually written and not printed. a married lady should never use her christian name on a card; but she should use her husband's christian name before her surname if his father or elder brother is living. it is now considered old-fashioned for husbands and wives to have their names printed on the same card, although at watering-places, the practice of having the two names on the same card, "mr. and mrs. dash," is still occasionally followed; but even when these cards are used, a lady and gentleman still require separate cards of their own. a lady having a large acquaintance should keep a visiting book, in which to enter the names of her acquaintances, and the date when their cards were left upon her, with the dates of her return cards left upon them, that she might know whether a card were due to her from them, or whether it were due to them from her. a lady having a small acquaintance would find a memorandum book sufficient for the purpose; a line should be drawn down the centre of every page, dividing it into two columns, the one column for the names, and the opposite column for the dates of the calls made and returned. leaving cards principally devolves upon the mistress of a house; a wife should leave cards for her husband, as well as for herself; and a daughter for her father. the master of a house has little or no card-leaving to do, beyond leaving cards upon his bachelor friends. in the country it is otherwise, and those who return home are called upon by their friends and acquaintances in the first instance, unless under exceptional circumstances. ladies arriving in town should leave cards on their acquaintances and friends to intimate that they have returned. visiting cards should be left in person, and should not be sent by post, although in town, when the distance is considerable, it is tacitly allowed; but, as a rule, ladies invariably leave their cards themselves. on arriving in town for the season ladies having a large acquaintance often send their visiting cards to their various friends and acquaintances by a man-servant or through a stationer. * * * * * =the routine of card-leaving.=--as regards the routine of card-leaving. when driving, a lady should desire her footman to inquire if the mistress of the house at which she is calling is "at home." if not "at home," and it is a first call, she should hand him _three_ cards--_one_ of her own, and _two_ of her husband's. her card is left for the mistress of the house, and her husband's cards for both master and mistress. if not a first call a lady should leave one only of her husband's cards if his acquaintance with her friend's husband is an intimate one and they are in the habit of meeting frequently. if, on the contrary, they know each other but slightly, and meet but seldom, then two of his cards should be left. this, however, not on every occasion of calling. when a lady is merely leaving cards, she should hand the three cards to her servant, saying, "for mrs. ----." this ensures the cards being left at the right address, and is the correct formula for the occasion. when a lady is walking, and finds the mistress of the house at which she calls is "not at home," she should act as above. when a lady intends making a call she should ask if "mrs. ---- is at home?" and if the answer is in the affirmative, she should, after making the call, leave _two_ of her husband's cards on the hall table, and neither put them in the card-basket nor leave them on the drawing-room table, nor offer them to her hostess, all of which would be very incorrect; but she might on reaching the hall hand them to the man-servant silently, or she might send them in by her own servant when seated in her carriage, saying, "for mr. and mrs. smith." she should not leave her _own_ card on the hall table, as, having seen the lady of the house, the reason for doing so no longer exists.[ ] when a lady calling is accompanied by her husband and the mistress of the house is at home, the husband should leave one of his cards only, for the absent master of the house; when the master of the house is at home also, a card in that case should not be left. when the mistress of a house has a grown-up daughter or daughters, the lady leaving cards should turn down one corner of her visiting card--the right-hand corner generally--to include the daughter or daughters in the call. this custom of turning down a corner of a visiting card signifies that other ladies of the family besides the hostess are included in the call. a foreigner turns down the _end_ of a card instead of one corner only, which has not the same signification. it is to denote that he has left it in person. a lady should not leave one of her husband's cards for the daughters of the house, but she not unfrequently leaves his card for the grown-up sons of the house. when a lady intends leaving cards on a friend who is the guest of some one with whom she is unacquainted, she should only leave cards for her friend and not for her friend's hostess; but if she is slightly acquainted with her friend's hostess, she should leave cards upon her on the occasion of her first visit to her friend, but it would not be necessary to do so at every subsequent visit, especially if they were of frequent occurrence. young ladies should not have visiting cards of their own; their names should be printed beneath that of their mother on her card. in the case of there being no mother living, the daughter's name should be printed beneath that of her father on the usual lady's visiting card, but never on the smaller cards used by gentlemen. when young ladies are taken out into society by relatives or friends, their names should be written in pencil under the names of the ladies chaperoning them on their visiting cards. maiden ladies of a certain age should have visiting cards of their own, but until a young lady has attained what is termed a certain age, it argues no little independence of action to have a card of her own; but when she no longer requires chaperonage, she is entitled to a card of her own, being clearly her own mistress, and able to choose her own acquaintances. when a young lady is on a visit unaccompanied by her parents, and wishes to call on ladies with whom the lady she is staying with is unacquainted, she should leave her mother's card on which her own name is also printed, and should draw a pencil through her mother's name to intimate that she was not with her on that occasion. cards should always be returned within a week if possible, or ten days at latest, after they have been left, but to do so within a week is more courteous. and care must be taken to return the "call" or "cards" according to the etiquette observed by the person making the call or leaving the card; that is to say, that a "call" must _not_ be returned by a card only, or a "card" by a "call." this is a point ladies should be very punctilious about. should a lady of higher rank return a card by a "call," asking if the mistress of the house were "at home," her so doing would be in strict etiquette; and should she return a "call" by a card only, it should be understood that she wished the acquaintance to be of the slightest; and should a lady call upon an acquaintance of higher rank than herself, who had only left a card upon her, her doing so would be a breach of etiquette. in large establishments the hall porter enters the names of all callers in a book expressly kept for the purpose, while some ladies merely desire their servant to sort the cards left for them. the name of the lady or gentleman for whom the cards are intended should never be written on the cards left at a house. the only case in which it should be done would be when cards are left on a lady or a gentleman staying at a crowded hotel, when, to save confusion, and to ensure their receiving them, their names should be written on them thus: "for mr. and mrs. smith." but this would be quite an exceptional case, otherwise to do so would be extremely vulgar. * * * * * =leaving cards after entertainments.=--visiting cards should be left after the following entertainments: balls, receptions, private theatricals, amateur concerts, and dinners, by those who have been invited, whether the invitations have been accepted or not, and should be left the day after the entertainment if possible, and certainly within the week according to the rules of card-leaving already described. on these occasions cards should be left without inquiry as to whether the hostess is at home, although after a dinner-party it is the rule to ask if she is at home, as to dine at a house denotes a greater intimacy than being present at a large gathering. if the hostess were not at home, cards should be left. if a lady has been but once present at any entertainment, whether the invitation came through a mutual friend or direct from the hostess herself, the hostess being but a slight acquaintance of her own, besides leaving cards on her the day following, she can, if she desires, leave cards on her the following season, or, if residing in the same town, within a reasonable time of the entertainment; but if these cards are not acknowledged by cards being left in return, she should of course understand that the acquaintance is to proceed no further. a lady should not leave cards on another lady to whom she has but recently been introduced at a dinner-party or afternoon tea; for instance, she must meet her several times in society, and feel sure that her acquaintance is desired, before venturing to leave cards. if two ladies are of equal rank, tact will be their best guide as to the advisability of leaving cards or not upon each other; the lady of superior rank may take the initiative if she pleases. if either of the ladies express a wish to further the acquaintance by asking the other to call upon her, the suggestion should come from the lady of highest rank; if of equal rank it is immaterial as to which first makes the suggestion. but in either case the call should be paid within the week. * * * * * =leaving cards upon new-comers.=--in the country the residents should be the first to leave cards on the new-comers, after ascertaining the position which the new-comers occupy in society. persons moving in the same sphere should either leave cards or call according as they intend to be ceremonious or friendly, and the return visits should be paid in like manner, a card for a card, a call for a call. it is the received rule that residents should call on new-comers, although having no previous acquaintance with them, or introductions to them. new-comers, even if of higher rank, should not call on residents in the first instance, but should wait until the residents have taken the initiative. if residents do not wish to continue the acquaintance after the first meeting, it is discontinued by not leaving cards, or by not calling again, and if the new-comers feel disinclined to continue the acquaintance they should return the calls by leaving cards only. calling on new-comers in the country should not be done indiscriminately, and due consideration should be paid to individual status in society. the lady of highest social position in the circle to which the new-comers belong generally takes the responsibility of calling first on the new-comers. by new-comers is expressed persons who intend to reside in a county or town for a long, or even for a short period, and who are not casual visitors in the place. the custom of residents calling on new-comers is entirely confined to county society, and does not apply to residents in large towns and populous watering-places. in old cathedral cities and quiet country towns, far from the metropolis, on the contrary, the rule holds good of residents calling on new-comers. * * * * * =cards "to inquire."=--cards to inquire after friends during their illness should be left in person, and should not be sent by post; but they may be sent by a servant. on a lady's visiting card should be written above the printed name: "to inquire after mrs. smith." when the person inquired after is sufficiently recovered to return thanks in person, the usual visiting card, with "many thanks for kind inquiries," written above the printed name, is the usual mode of returning thanks, and is all-sufficient for the purpose. * * * * * =p.p.c. cards.=--formerly p.p.c. cards were left within a week of departure, or within ten days if the acquaintance was a large one. the letters p.p.c. for _pour prendre congé_, written at the lower corner of visiting cards, indicate departure from town or from a neighbourhood. p.p.c. cards may be left in person or sent by a servant; they can also be sent by post. the object of leaving p.p.c. cards is to avoid leave-takings and correspondence concerning departure, and to prevent offence being given if letters and invitations remained unanswered. in the country an absence of from three to six months renders leaving p.p.c. cards somewhat necessary; under that period it would be unnecessary to give notice of a temporary absence which does not amount to an actual departure. short absences render it unnecessary to leave p.p.c. cards. holiday movements at christmas, easter, and whitsuntide are thoroughly recognized, and no leave-taking is obligatory. p.p.c. cards are now seldom if ever left in town. * * * * * =business calls.=--when a lady makes a strictly business call upon either a lady or gentleman she should give her card to the servant to be taken to his master or mistress, but on no other occasion should she do so. * * * * * =gentlemen's visiting cards.=--a gentleman's card should be thin--thick cards are not in good taste--and not glazed, and of the usual narrow width, _i.e._ one and a half inches in depth, and three inches in width; his name should be printed in the centre, thus: "mr. smith" or "mr. francis smith," should he require the addition of his christian name to distinguish him from his father or elder brother. to have "francis smith" printed on the card without the prefix of "mr." would be in bad taste. initials appertaining to honorary rank should never be written or printed on a card, such as d.l., k.c., m.p., k.c.b., m.d., etc. military or professional titles necessarily precede the surname of the person bearing them, and are always used, such as "colonel smith," "captain smith," "rev. h. smith," "dr. smith," etc. as regards titles, "the honourable" is the only title that is not used on a visiting card. thus "the honourable henry smith's" card should bear the words "mr. henry smith" only. a baronet's card should be printed thus, "sir george smith," and a knight's card thus, "sir charles smith." a gentleman's address should be printed in the left hand corner of the card. if a member of a club, it is usual to print the name of the club at the right hand. officers usually have the name of the club printed at the left hand corner in the place of the address, and the regiment to which they belong at the right hand. cards should be printed in small copper-plate script, without ornamentation of any kind. old english letters look old-fashioned on a card, and are but little used; and ornamental capital letters are never used, and are out of date. the lettering should be as plain and as free from any sort of embellishment as it well can be. * * * * * =the routine of card-leaving for gentlemen.=--to bachelors card-leaving is an irksome routine of etiquette, and is, therefore, in a measure often neglected, by reason of their having little or no leisure at command during the afternoon hours. this is now thoroughly understood and accepted in general society. when, however, a bachelor has his way to make in society and has leisure to further the acquaintanceships he has already made, he should follow the rules of card-leaving. bachelors, as a rule, are expected to leave cards on the master and mistress of a house with whom they are acquainted as soon as they are aware that the family have arrived in town; or if a bachelor himself has been away, he should leave cards on his acquaintances immediately after his return. he should leave one card for the mistress of the house and one for its master. a gentleman should not turn down a corner of his card, even though he may be acquainted with other ladies of the family besides the mistress of the house. a gentleman should not leave a card for the young daughters of the house, or for any young relative of its mistress who might be staying with her; but if a married couple with whom he is acquainted were staying with the friends on whom he is calling, he should leave two cards for them, one for the wife and one for the husband, and should tell the servant for whom they are intended. as regards leaving cards upon new acquaintances, a gentleman should not leave his card upon a married lady, or the mistress of a house, to whom he has been introduced, however gracious or agreeable she has been to him, unless she expressly asks him to call, or gives him to understand in an unmistakable manner that his doing so would be agreeable to her. this rule holds good, whether the introduction has taken place at a dinner-party, at a ball, at an "at home," at a country-house gathering, or elsewhere; he would not be entitled to leave his card on her on such slight acquaintanceship; as, if she desired his further acquaintance, she would make some polite allusion to his calling at her house, in which case he should leave his card on her as soon afterwards as convenient, and he should also leave a card for the master of the house, the lady's husband or father (as the case may be), even if he had not made his acquaintance when making that of the lady. a gentleman should not leave a card on a young lady to whom he has been introduced, but upon her mother or the relative with whom she is residing. when the acquaintance existing between gentlemen is but slight, they should occasionally leave cards upon each other, especially when they do not move in the same circle, and are not otherwise likely to meet; it generally follows that the one who most desires the acquaintanceship is the one to leave his card first, always supposing that the strength of the acquaintance would warrant his so doing. the one of highest rank should be the one to intimate that he desires the acquaintance of the other; if the rank be equal, it is a matter of inclination which calls first. the rules of etiquette, though stringent as regards acquaintances, have little or no application as regards intimate friends; friendship overrules etiquette. when a bachelor has a number of intimate friends, very little card-leaving is required from him as far as they are concerned. * * * * * =leaving cards after entertainments.=--in the event of a gentleman receiving an invitation to an entertainment from an acquaintance, or from a new acquaintance, or through some mutual friend, he should leave his cards at the house within a week or ten days after the entertainment, one for the mistress and one for the master of the house, whether he has accepted the invitation or not. between friends this rule is greatly relaxed. it is usual for a gentleman to leave his cards on the host or on the hostess, after every entertainment to which he has been invited by them, whether it be a dinner-party, or ball, or "at home," etc. whether he has been present or not, the fact of his having been invited by them obliges him to pay them this civility, although great latitude as regards time is now accorded in general society with regard to this particular rule. if invited by a new acquaintance, the cards should be left a few days after the entertainment, but if by a less recent acquaintance they should be left within ten days or a fortnight, but the earlier the cards are left the greater the politeness shown. if a bachelor acquaintance gives an entertainment, the same rule applies as to the necessity of cards being left on him by those gentlemen but slightly acquainted with him who have been invited to the entertainment. when a gentleman has been invited to an entertainment given at the house of a new acquaintance, whether the acquaintance be a lady or a gentleman, it would be etiquette for him to leave his card upon them on their arrival in town or elsewhere, even though they may not have invited him to any subsequent entertainment given by them within the year. if during the following year they do not again invite him, he might consider the acquaintance at an end and cease to call. these complimentary calls made, or rather cards left, should not average more than four during the year. * * * * * =memorial cards= are out of date in society, and consequently should not be sent to either relatives or friends. a widow should not make use of her christian name on her visiting cards to distinguish her from other members of her late husband's family. her cards should be printed as during his lifetime. footnotes: [ ] it is, however, permissible on the occasion of a _first_ call to say, "i shall leave my card in the hall to remind you of my address"; or some such phrase. chapter iv paying calls ladies stand upon strict and ceremonious etiquette with each other as regards both paying and receiving calls. ignorance or neglect of the rules which regulate paying calls, brings many inconveniences in its train; for instance, when a lady neglects to pay a call due to an acquaintance, she runs the risk of herself and daughters being excluded from entertainments given by the said acquaintance. when a call has not been made within a reasonable time, a coldness is apt to arise between ladies but slightly acquainted with each other. some ladies take this omission good-naturedly or indifferently, while with others the acquaintance merges into a mere bowing acquaintance to be subsequently dropped altogether. the first principle of calling is, that those who are the first to arrive in town should be the _first_ to call upon their acquaintances to intimate their return. "morning calls," so designated on account of their being made before dinner, are, more strictly speaking, "afternoon calls," as they should only be made between the hours of three and six o'clock. calls made in the morning--that is before one o'clock--would not come under the denomination of "morning calls," as they can only be made by intimate friends and not by acquaintances, and are not, therefore, amenable to the rules of etiquette which govern the afternoon calls, which calls are regulated in a great measure--as to the hour of calling--by the exact degree of intimacy existing between the person who calls and the person called upon. from three to four o'clock is the ceremonious hour for calling; from four to five o'clock is the semi-ceremonious hour; and from five to six o'clock is the wholly friendly and without ceremony hour. if a lady is driving when she calls at the house of an acquaintance, she should say to her servant, "ask if mrs. a---- is at home." when a lady is walking, she should ask the same question herself. when the answer is in the negative, she should leave one of her own cards and one of her husband's, and should say to the servant, "for mr. and mrs. a----." when the answer is in the affirmative, the lady should enter the house without further remark and follow the servant to the drawing-room. the servant should go before the visitor, to lead the way to the drawing-room, and, however accustomed a visitor may be to a house, it is still the proper etiquette for the servant to lead the way, and announce him or her to his mistress; and this rule should not be dispensed with, except in the case of very near relations or very intimate friends. at the drawing-room door the servant waits for a moment until the visitor has reached the landing, when the visitor should give his or her name to the servant, "mr. a----" or "mrs. a----," should the servant be unacquainted with it. if the visitor calling bears the title of "honourable" it should not be mentioned by him or her to the servant when giving the name, neither should it be mentioned by the servant when announcing the visitor. all titles are given in full by the servants of those who bear them, thus: "the duke and duchess of a----," "the marquis and marchioness of b----," "the earl and countess of c----," "viscount and viscountess d----," "lord and lady e----," etc.; but a marchioness, a countess, or a viscountess when giving her name to be announced at a morning call would style herself "lady a----" only. a gentleman or lady should never give his or her visiting card to the servant when the mistress of the house is at home. a servant should not knock at the drawing-room door when announcing visitors. the servant, on opening the drawing-room door, should stand inside the doorway, he should not stand behind the door, but well into the room; facing the mistress of the house if possible, and should say, "mr. a----," or "mrs. a----." when the mistress of the house is not in the drawing-room when a visitor arrives, the visitor should seat herself and rise at her entrance. visitors should not make any inquiries of the servant as to how long his mistress will be, or where she is, or what she is doing, etc. visitors are not expected to converse with the servants of their acquaintances, and should not enter into conversation with them. formerly a gentleman when calling, took his hat and stick in his hand with him into the drawing-room, and held them until he had seen the mistress of the house and shaken hands with her. he either placed them on a chair or table near at hand or held them in his hand, according as to whether he felt at ease or the reverse, until he took his leave. many middle-aged and elderly men still follow this fashion in a degree, and take their hats and sticks into the drawing-room when making formal calls. the newer fashion amongst younger men is to leave their hats and sticks in the hall and not to take them into the drawing-room with them when calling. to do this is now very general, as hats are in the way if tea is going on; besides, men were apt to forget where they placed their hats, and frequently had to return to the drawing-room in search of them. at "at homes," small afternoon teas, luncheons, dinners, etc., the rule is the same, and hats are left in the hall by invited guests. a gentleman should not take his stick or umbrella with him into the drawing-room, but leave it in the hall. when gentlemen wear gloves, they can take them off or keep them on as they please, it is immaterial which they do, but when a call is made when tea is going on, it is more usual to take them off. when the mistress of the house is in the drawing-room when a visitor is announced--and she should so arrange her occupations as always to be found there on the afternoons when she intends being "at home" should visitors call--she should rise, come forward, and shake hands with her visitor. she should not ask her visitor to be seated, or to "take a seat," but she might say, "where will you sit?" or, "will you sit here?" or something to this effect; and should at once sit down and expect her visitor to do the same, as near to herself as possible. both hostess and visitor should guard against displaying a fussy demeanour during a morning call, as a morning call is oftener than not a _tête-à-tête_, and a _tête-à-tête_ between two persons but slightly acquainted with each other requires a considerable amount of tact and _savoir vivre_ to be sustained with ease and self-possession. a fussy woman is without repose, without dignity, and without _savoir vivre_. a hostess betrays that she is not much accustomed to society when she attempts to amuse her visitor by the production of albums, photographs, books, illustrated newspapers, portfolios of drawings, the artistic efforts of the members of the family, and the like; conversation being all that is necessary, without having recourse to pictorial displays. if not intimate enough to refer to family matters, the conversation should turn on light topics of the hour.[ ] people unused to society are apt to fall back upon the above adventitious aids. a hostess should rely solely upon her own powers of conversation to make the short quarter of an hour--which is the limit of a ceremonious call--pass pleasantly to her visitor. the hostess should not offer her visitor any refreshments, wine and cake, for instance. no refreshments whatever, save tea, should be offered to morning visitors; they are not supposed to require them. in the country it is customary to offer sherry to gentlemen callers, and to order tea for the ladies, even though the call is made rather early in the afternoon, and a little before the hour for having tea. ceremonious visits are usually paid before the hour of half-past four; but if tea is brought in while the visitor is in the drawing-room, or if the visitor calls while the hostess is having tea, she should naturally offer her visitor tea. when the mistress of the house only expects a few callers, "tea" is placed on a small table--a silver tray being generally used for the purpose. the hostess should pour out the tea herself; when a gentleman is present, he should hand the cups to the visitors or visitor, otherwise the hostess should herself do so, and then hand the sugar and cream, without asking whether her visitors will have either, unless she is preparing the cups of tea herself, in which case she should ask the question. when a second visitor arrives, ten or fifteen minutes after the first visitor, the first visitor should take her leave as soon as she conveniently can. when the second visitor is a lady, the hostess should rise and shake hands with her, and then seat herself; the first visitor, if a lady, should not rise; if a gentleman, he should do so. a hostess should also rise and come forward when a gentleman is announced; this gives her an opportunity of talking to him for a few moments on his first entering the room. the second visitor should at once seat him or herself near to the hostess. she should introduce the callers to each other unless she has some especial reason for not doing so. she could, however, in the course of conversation merely mention the name of each caller, so that each may become aware of the name of the other. this is now often done when formal introductions are not made. if the hostess possesses tact, and a facility and readiness of speech, she should skilfully draw both callers into the conversation (a subject which is fully enlarged upon in "the art of conversing"). the hostess should not take this latter course unless aware that the two visitors would be likely to appreciate each other. when one visitor arrives immediately after the other, the hostess should converse equally with both visitors, and the lady who was the first to arrive should be the first to leave, after a call of from ten to fifteen minutes. when only one visitor is present the hostess should accompany her to the door of the drawing-room, and linger for a few moments, whilst the visitor is descending the stairs. to do so would not be imperative, but it would be courteous. when the host is present he should accompany the lady downstairs into the hall; this also is an optional civility, and greatly depends upon the estimation in which the lady is held by host and hostess. when two visitors are present the hostess should rise and shake hands with the departing visitor; but unless a person of greater consideration than the visitor who still remained seated, she should not accompany her to the drawing-room door. one visitor should not rise from her seat when another is about to take her leave. when visitors are acquainted with each other they should rise and shake hands. when one of the visitors is a gentleman he should rise, even if unacquainted with the lady who is about to take her leave; he should not remain seated when the hostess is standing. when two visitors, either two ladies or two gentlemen, have slightly conversed with each other during a morning call, they should not shake hands with each other on leaving, but should merely bow. when they have not spoken to each other, they should not bow. when they have been formally introduced they should still only bow, unless the acquaintance has progressed into sudden intimacy through previous knowledge of each other. when one of the visitors present is a gentleman he should open the drawing-room door for the departing visitor, but he should not accompany her downstairs unless requested by the hostess to do so; the visitor should bow to him and thank him, but not shake hands with him. when the hostess has shaken hands with a guest, and before crossing the room with her, she should ring the drawing-room bell, that the servant may be in readiness in the hall to open the door. she should ring the bell even if the host were accompanying the lady downstairs. it would be thoughtless on the part of the hostess to forget to ring the bell to give notice to the servant that a visitor was leaving. in the country, the caller before rising to depart sometimes asks if she may ring for her motor-car to come round. when the hostess is in reach of the bell, she should ring it for her; when a gentleman is present, he should do so. on the servant's entrance, the caller should say, "my motor-car, please!" when a lady is calling on a friend, the guest of some one with whom she herself is unacquainted, or even but slightly acquainted, she should in both cases ask if her friend is at home, and not if the mistress of the house is at home; and having paid her visit, on leaving the house she should leave cards for its mistress if she is slightly acquainted with her, but should not do so if she is unacquainted with her. when a lady has a guest staying on a visit to her, if convenient, she should, when her guest expected visitors, absent herself from the drawing-room at that particular time, unless the expected visitors are mutual friends of herself and guest. if she is in the drawing-room with her guests when a visitor is announced so as to render an introduction inevitable, a formal introduction should be made, but the mistress of the house, after a very few minutes, should make some excuse, quietly leave the room, and not return until after the departure of the visitor. it would be inconsiderate were the mistress of the house to remain in the drawing-room while calls were paid to her guest by strangers to herself unless at her guest's particular request. when a visitor is a gentleman, and the guest a young unmarried lady, the mistress of the house should remain in the drawing-room to chaperon her. when the mistress of the house is desirous of making the acquaintance of any particular friend of her guest, from whom she expected a visit, when the visit occurs and previous to the visitor taking her leave, the guest should ask if she will allow her to introduce her to the lady with whom she is staying. if her visitor desires the introduction, she should then ring and request the servant to tell his mistress that mrs. a. is in the drawing-room, which message the hostess would understand to mean that her presence is desired, and the introduction would then be made on her appearing. an introduction, if made in this manner, could become the basis of a future acquaintance, both ladies having had the option of refusing the acquaintance of the other if so disposed; whereas a forced introduction where no option is given would hardly count as the basis of a future acquaintance unless the ladies thus introduced mutually appreciated each other. in the country a guest seldom has friends and acquaintances in the neighbourhood, who are unknown to her hostess; if otherwise, the hostess should give her guest the opportunity of seeing her visitor by leaving them together when the call is made. when a guest is present when the mistress of a house is receiving callers, she should introduce them to her guest or her guest to them, according to the rank of either (see chapter ii.). when a lady is driving with a friend who is a stranger to the acquaintance on whom she is calling, she should not take her into the house with her while she makes her call, unless she is a young lady, or unless there is some especial reason for introducing the two ladies to each other, or unless both ladies have expressed a wish to become acquainted with each other. husbands and wives occasionally pay calls together, but oftener they do not. a lady, as a rule, pays a call by herself, unless she has a grown-up daughter, when she should accompany her mother. occasionally two ladies, both intimate with the lady of the house, pay their calls together. a family party, of father and mother and daughter, or daughters, rarely call in town together, save under very exceptional circumstances; but in the country a family party of three or four would, as a matter of course, call together; it is country etiquette to do so. a considerable difference exists with regard to "sunday calls," or calling on sundays. ladies should not pay ceremonious calls on sundays; it would not be etiquette for an acquaintance to call on a sunday, it would rather be considered a liberty, unless she were expressly asked to do so. intimate friends, on the contrary, often make sunday a special day for calling, and therefore, ladies and gentlemen--more especially gentlemen--extend their calling hours from three until six o'clock on sundays. when a lady is acquainted with the daughters of a family only, and not with their father or mother, she should call on the daughters, who should at once introduce her to their mother on the next occasion of calling. if the mother is not present, the lady calling should leave cards for her; and at all morning calls, when the daughters of the house receive a ceremonious visit from an acquaintance, in the absence of their mother, whether from indisposition or any other cause, cards should be left for her in the hall before leaving by the lady calling (see chapter iii.). in all cases, when "morning calls" are made, and the lady called on is not at home, cards should be left according to the etiquette described in chapter ii., an etiquette which should be strictly observed; when the lady called on is "at home," cards should be left for the gentlemen of the family, according to the same rules of card-leaving, which cannot be too punctiliously followed. a mistress of a house should inform her servant after or before luncheon, or before the hours for calling, whether she intends to be "at home" to visitors or not during the afternoon. "not at home" is the understood formula expressive of not wishing to see visitors. "not at home" is not intended to imply an untruth, but rather to signify that for some reason, or reasons, it is not desirable to see visitors; and as it would be impossible to explain to acquaintances the why and the wherefore of its being inconvenient to receive visitors, the formula of "not at home" is all-sufficient explanation, provided always that a servant is able to give a direct answer at once of "not at home" when the query is put to him. if a servant is not sure as to whether his mistress wishes to see visitors or not, it is almost a direct offence to the lady calling if he hesitates as to his answer, and leaves her either sitting in her carriage or standing in the hall, while "he will see if his mistress is 'at home,'" perhaps returning with the unsatisfactory answer that she is "not at home"; in which case the intimation is almost received as a personal exclusion rather than as a general exclusion of visitors. if a lady is dressing to go out when a visitor calls, the servant can mention that fact to a visitor calling, and offer to ascertain if his mistress will see the caller; and the caller should use her own discretion as to whether she will allow him to do so or not; but unless the visit is one of importance, it would be best in such a case only to leave cards. when a second visitor calls, a servant should not be permitted to say that his mistress is "engaged with a lady," or "with a gentleman," but should usher the second caller into the drawing-room, as he has previously done the first caller. he should not inquire as to whether his mistress will see the second caller or not. neither should he inform the second caller as to whether any one is or is not with his mistress, as ignorant servants are too apt to do. it is not usual to offer coffee at afternoon tea; tea only is given. to offer coffee is a foreign fashion, and not an english one. "morning" callers should not be conducted to the dining-room to have tea; and tea is only served in the dining-room on the occasion of a large afternoon tea, or afternoon "at home," etc. (see chapter on "afternoon 'at homes'" p. .) the tea hour varies from to . o'clock. when callers are present at o'clock, tea should be brought in at that hour. it should be placed upon a small table, which is first covered with a white linen or damask tea-cloth. the tea-tray should be large enough to hold, in addition to the china, silver teapot, etc., an urn for hot water, which should be brought in and placed upon it. a stand containing hot cakes, an uncut cake, small cakes, tiny sandwiches, and thin bread-and-butter should be placed near to the tea-table. tiny tea-plates should be placed in a pile upon the tea-tray, they being in general use. the hostess or her daughter should pour out the tea. apart from the foregoing style of afternoon tea is the newer fashion of what might be termed "a round-table tea," at which hostess and guests sit, but this style is more usual at country houses than in town houses at present, on account of the space required, if for no other reason. the tea is served in a smaller drawing-room, upon a large round or oval table, which is covered with a white table-cloth, upon which the tea-tray with all its contents is placed. cakes, hot and cold, sandwiches, pastry, fruit, jam, bread-and-butter, biscuits, dry toast, etc., are given, and the visitors seated at the table help themselves to what they require. the hostess pours out the tea and hands the cups as when guests are not seated in this way. dessert plates and dessert knives and forks should be placed on the table beside the small tea-plates, to be taken as required. footnotes: [ ] see work entitled "the art of conversing." chapter v precedency the order of precedency due to each individual according to rank is a matter of great importance at official banquets and at ceremonious dinner-parties, when its correct observance should be strictly adhered to. * * * * * =as regards precedency amongst royal personages=, the sovereign takes precedence of all others in the realm; the king takes precedence of queen mary. the prince of wales takes precedence of the duke of connaught. queen alexandra takes precedence of the royal princesses. the royal princesses take precedence of their husbands, prince christian and the duke of argyll. * * * * * =the precedency accorded to foreign royal personages= in this country very much depends upon their individual rank. imperial highnesses and royal highnesses take precedence of serene highnesses. * * * * * =the precedency accorded to eastern princes= is generally synonymous with that accorded to serene highnesses; but in some instances the claims of individual precedency are so difficult to define, that in official cases it is sometimes necessary to make a special rule as to the amount of precedency to be allowed. * * * * * =as regards general precedency=, archbishops, ambassadors, the lord high chancellor, the prime minister, lord chancellor of ireland, lord president of the council, and lord privy seal, take precedence of dukes; dukes take precedence of earls, and so on throughout the various degrees of nobility. * * * * * =foreign ministers and envoys= take precedence next after dukes, in the order of their seniority of service in england. in all cases where precedency is to be established between persons of equal rank it is necessary to refer to a peerage for date of creation of title, as this actually decides all precedency. * * * * * =for precedency due to baronets= and their wives a baronetage should be consulted. * * * * * =for precedency due to knights= and their wives a knightage should be consulted in reference to each order of knighthood. * * * * * =for the precedency due to the legal profession= a law list should be consulted when it is not defined by office or birth. * * * * * =for the precedency due to the clergy= a clergy list should be consulted when superior preferment or birth does not define it. * * * * * =for the precedency due to officers= in the army and navy an army list and a navy list should be consulted to determine the precedency due to each in the separate services. * * * * * =officers should be sent in to dinner= according to the dates of commission, but no branch of the army takes precedence over the other as regards rank of officers; that is to say, a colonel of , of say, a west india regiment, would precede a colonel of guards, artillery or cavalry of promotion. drawn up on a brigade parade, the cavalry take the right of the line; thus: artillery, royal engineers, footguards and regular regiments, regiments and west india regiments, in the order named in the army list. * * * * * =as regards precedency between officers= of the combined services a table of "relative rank and precedency in the army and navy" should be consulted, as a captain in the navy after three years' service ranks with a colonel in the army, a lieutenant of the navy of eight years' standing ranks with a major in the army, and a lieutenant under that standing in the navy, ranks with a captain in the army, etc. consulate officers also take precedence according to seniority of service in england and date of official arrival. the foreign office list of the current year should be consulted for date in each instance. * * * * * =as regards the precedence due to widows= bearing titles who have married again: the widow of a peer married to a commoner retains her title by courtesy, and the precedency due to the title is accorded to her. * * * * * =when the widow of a duke= marries a person of lower rank than that of her late husband, she still retains her precedency. * * * * * =the daughter of a peer= if married to a baronet or a commoner retains her precedency, but if married to a baron her precedency is merged in that of her husband. * * * * * =the widow of a baronet= married to a commoner retains her title by right and not by courtesy. * * * * * =the widow of a knight= married to a commoner retains her title by courtesy only, but the precedency due to the widow of a knight is accorded to her. * * * * * =when the daughter of a duke= marries a peer she takes the precedency due to the rank of her husband; if she marries a commoner, precedency is accorded to her due to the daughter of a duke. * * * * * =age confers no precedency= on either sex. equals in rank from the highest to the lowest take precedence according to the creation of their title and not as regards the age of the person bearing the title. as, for instance, a youthful duke would take precedence of an aged duke, if the title of the youthful duke bore an earlier date than that of the aged duke. the same rule applies equally to baronets and knights. when two earls are present at a dinner-party, the date of their respective patents of nobility decides the order of precedency due to them. a host or hostess should always consult a "peerage" or a "baronetage" if in doubt as to the precedence due to expected guests bearing titles; wealth or social position are not taken into account in this matter, it being strictly a question of date. * * * * * =the precedence due to ladies of equal rank= takes effect in the same manner. thus, a young wife of a baronet takes precedence over the elderly wife of a baronet if the creation of her husband's title bears an earlier date. * * * * * =when the claims to precedency of persons of equal rank= clash, the claims of a gentleman should be waived in favour of those of a lady, should the persons be of opposite sexes. thus, if two couples of superior rank to the other guests were present at a dinner-party, the host should take down the lady of highest rank, and the hostess should be taken down by the gentleman of highest rank, in which case the lady second in rank should go in to dinner _before_ her husband, although the gentleman taking her down to dinner were of lower rank than her husband. * * * * * =esquires, and the wives of esquires=, take precedence according to their social position. members of parliament have no precedence, though it is often accorded to them as a matter of courtesy, especially in the county which they represent; the wives of members of parliament are likewise entitled to no precedence on the ground of their husbands being members of parliament. * * * * * =the high sheriff of a county= takes precedence over all other gentlemen in the county, of whatever rank, save the lord-lieutenant, according to the royal warrant issued by his late majesty king edward, giving precedence to lord-lieutenants of counties before high sheriffs. * * * * * =the high sheriff= out of his particular county has no precedence, neither has a lord-lieutenant; and the wives of either lords-lieutenants or high sheriffs take no precedence on account of their husbands' official dignity. * * * * * =an assize judge= takes precedence over the high sheriff as the assize judge represents the sovereign of the realm. * * * * * =clergymen, barristers-at-law=, officers in the army and navy take precedence over esquires on account of such rank; and in each profession precedence should be accorded them according to dignity, date of ordination, date of call, and date of commission in their several professions, assuming that the rank is equal. * * * * * =high clerical and legal dignitaries= take special precedence; for instance, the archbishop of canterbury takes precedence of all dukes, and the lord chancellor takes precedence of the archbishop of york, who also takes precedence of dukes; bishops take precedence of all barons, whatever their date of creation. the lord chief justice, the master of the rolls, when not peers, and all judges of the high court of justice in their various divisions, take precedence after privy councillors and before baronets and all knights, save the knights of the garter. * * * * * =the relative rank between officers of the army and navy= and doctors of divinity is somewhat difficult to determine as regards the precedence to be given them at a dinner-party. "dod" places "esquires by office, which, of course, includes all officers of the army and navy," next _before_ the younger sons of knights and before doctors in divinity, who follow next in order; while "lodge" places "officers of the navy and army" _after_ the younger sons of knights bachelor, clergymen, and barristers-at-law. * * * * * =precedency at dinner-parties.=--when royalty is present at a dinner-party, a prince of blood royal takes precedence of a princess, and leads the way with the hostess, the host following next with the princess. on the other hand, a princess of the blood royal takes precedence of a foreign prince--her husband--and leads the way with the host. * * * * * =the host should take down the lady of highest rank=, and lead the way with her to the dining-room. the guests should follow the host in couples according to the degree of precedence due to them, and the hostess should follow the last couple with the gentleman of highest rank present. * * * * * =when a greater number of gentlemen= than ladies are present at a dinner-party, as is often the case, these gentlemen should follow the hostess to the dining-room and not precede her. * * * * * =when a widow or maiden lady is hostess,= and there is no gentleman of the family present to act as host, the gentleman second in rank should take down the lady of highest rank, leading the way with her to the dining-room, the hostess following last, with the gentleman of highest rank. * * * * * =in the case of either a husband's sister= or a wife's sister being required to act as hostess, precedence should be given to the wife's sister. * * * * * =an eldest son's wife= should take precedence of her husband's sisters in his father's house. as regards the precedence due to the relatives of a host or hostess, it should give way in favour of that due to the guests not related to the host or hostess, although their relatives might be, perhaps, of higher rank than the guests themselves. occasionally, the eldest son of the house acts as second host, taking down a lady second or third in rank; but the daughters of the house should always be taken down to dinner after the other ladies present, and in no case before them. no precedence is accorded to either a lady or a gentleman by virtue of a mother's rank. no precedence is accorded to brides in society, though occasionally in the country old-fashioned people consider it due to a bride to send her in to dinner with the host on the occasion of her first dining at a house within three months of her marriage. table of general precedency gentlemen the king. the prince of wales. the sovereign's younger sons. the sovereign's grandsons. the sovereign's brothers. the sovereign's uncles. the sovereign's nephews. ambassadors. archbishop of canterbury. lord high chancellor. archbishop of york. the prime minister. lord chancellor of ireland. lord president of the council. lord privy seal. dukes who may happen to hold either of these five offices-- . lord great chamberlain. . earl marshal. . lord steward. . lord chamberlain. . master of the horse. dukes in order of their patents of creation-- . dukes of england. . " " scotland. . dukes of great britain. . " " ireland created before the union. . dukes created since the union. eldest sons of dukes of blood royal. marquesses who may hold either of the offices of state named above. marquesses in same order as dukes. dukes' eldest sons. earls holding either of the five offices of state. earls in same order as dukes. younger sons of dukes of blood royal. marquesses' eldest sons. dukes' younger sons. viscounts who may hold either of the five offices of state. viscounts in same order as dukes. earls' eldest sons. marquesses' younger sons. bishop of london. " durham. " winchester. other english bishops in order of their consecration. moderator of the church of scotland. barons holding either of the five offices of state. barons who may be secretaries of state or irish secretary. barons in same order as dukes. the speaker of the house of commons. treasurer of the household. comptroller of the household. vice-chamberlain of the household. secretaries of state below the rank of barons. viscounts' eldest sons. earls' younger sons. barons' eldest sons. commoners who are knights of the garter. privy councillors of rank lower than the foregoing, according to date they were sworn in. chancellor of the exchequer. " " " duchy of lancaster. lord chief justice of england. master of the rolls. lords justices of appeal and president of probate court. judges of the high court of justice. viscounts' younger sons. barons' " " sons of life peers. baronets according to dates of patents. knights grand cross of bath. knights grand commanders, star of india. knights grand cross of st. michael and st. george. knights grand commanders of indian empire. knights grand cross of royal victorian order. knights commanders of above orders in same sequence. knights bachelors of above orders in same sequence. commanders of the royal victorian order. judges of county courts in england and ireland, and judges of the city of london court. masters in lunacy. companions of orders of bath, star of india, ss. michael and george, and indian empire in same sequence. members of th class of royal victorian order. companions of distinguished service order. eldest sons of younger sons of peers. baronets' eldest sons. knights' eldest sons, in order of their fathers. members of th class of royal victorian order. younger sons of peers' younger sons. baronets' younger sons. knights' younger sons, in order of their fathers. naval, military, and other esquires by office. gentlemen entitled to bear coat armour. ladies the queen. the queen mother. the sovereign's daughters. wives of sovereign's younger sons. sovereign's granddaughters. wives of sovereign's grandsons. sovereign's sisters. wives of sovereign's brothers. sovereign's aunts. wives of sovereign's uncles. sovereign's nieces. wives of sovereign's nephews. duchesses (in same order as dukes). wives of eldest sons of dukes of blood royal. marchionesses. wives of eldest sons of dukes. daughters of dukes. countesses. wives of younger sons of royal dukes. wives of eldest sons of marquesses. daughters of marquesses. wives of younger sons of dukes. viscountesses. wives of eldest sons of earls. daughters of earls. wives of younger sons of marquesses. baronesses. wives of eldest sons of viscounts. daughters of viscounts. wives of younger sons of earls. wives of eldest sons of barons. daughters of barons. maids of honour. wives of younger sons of viscounts. wives of younger sons of barons. daughters and sons' wives of life peers. wives of baronets. daughters of baronets. wives of eldest sons of knights. daughters of knights. wives of younger sons of peers' younger sons. wives of younger sons of baronets. wives of younger sons of knights. wives of esquires. wives of gentlemen. chapter vi the colloquial application of titles the colloquial application of titles differs materially from the application of titles when not used colloquially, and many persons are in doubt as to whether they should or should not make use colloquially of titles in full. his majesty the king should be addressed as "sir" by all those who come in social contact with him; and by all others as "your majesty." her majesty queen mary should be addressed as "ma'm" by all those who come in social contact with her; and by all others as "your majesty." her majesty queen alexandra should be addressed as "ma'm" by all those who come in social contact with her; and by all others as "your majesty." the prince of wales, the duke of connaught, and all princes of the blood royal, should be addressed by the upper classes as "sir." the princesses of the blood royal, should be addressed as "ma'm" by the upper classes. the wives of the princes of the blood royal should also be addressed as "ma'm" by the upper classes. all crowned heads visiting england should be addressed as "sir" by those socially known to them, and as "your majesty" by all others. the royal ladies, their wives, should be addressed as "ma'm" by those personally known to them, and as "your majesty" by all others. a foreign prince bearing the title of serene highness should be addressed as "prince," and not as "sir," by the aristocracy and gentry, and as "your serene highness" by all other classes. a foreign princess, also bearing the title of serene highness, should be styled "princess" when addressed colloquially by the upper classes, but not as "ma'am"; and as "your serene highness" by all other classes. an english duke should be addressed as "duke" by the aristocracy and gentry, and not as "your grace" by members of either of these classes. all other classes should address him colloquially as "your grace." an english duchess should be addressed as "duchess" by all persons conversing with her belonging to the upper classes, and as "your grace" by all other classes. a marquess, colloquially, should be addressed as "lord a." a marchioness should be addressed as "lady a." by the upper classes. it would be a mistake to address an english marquess as "marquess," or a marchioness as "marchioness," colloquially speaking. all other classes should address them either as "my lord" or "your lordship," "my lady" or "your ladyship." an earl should be addressed as "lord b." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. a countess should be addressed as "lady b." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. a viscount should be addressed as "lord c." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. a viscountess should be addressed as "lady c." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. a baron should be addressed as "lord d." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. a baroness should be addressed as "lady d." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. in strictly official or business intercourse a marquess, an earl, a viscount, a baron, and a younger son of a duke or marquis, should be addressed as "my lord." the eldest son of a duke should be addressed as "lord a." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. the wife of the eldest son of a duke should be addressed as "lady a." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the younger sons of a duke should be addressed as "lord john e." or "lord charles e." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. persons well acquainted with them would address them colloquially by their title and christian name, as "lord john" or "lord charles." the same remark applies to their wives, who are often colloquially addressed as "lady alfred" or "lady edward." the wives of the younger sons of a duke should be addressed as "lady john e." or "lady charles e." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the daughters of a duke should be addressed as "lady mary a." or "lady elizabeth b." by the upper classes, and as "lady mary" and "lady elizabeth" by those intimate with them, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the eldest son of a marquess should be addressed as "lord a." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. the wife of the eldest son of a marquis should be addressed as "lady a." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the younger sons of a marquis should be addressed as "lord henry b." and "lord frederick b." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. the wives of the younger sons of a marquis should be addressed as "lady henry b." and "lady frederick b." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the daughters of a marquis should be addressed as "lady florence b." and "lady sarah b." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the eldest son of an earl should be addressed as "lord c." by the upper classes, and as "my lord" or "your lordship" by all other classes. the wife of the eldest son of an earl should be addressed as "lady c." by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the daughters of an earl should be addressed as "lady blanche" and "lady evelyn" by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the younger sons of earls, and both eldest and younger sons of viscounts and barons, only bear the courtesy title of honourable. the daughters of viscounts and barons also bear the courtesy title of honourable. this title should never be used colloquially, "the hon. cecil blank," "the hon. mrs. cecil blank," and "the hon. mary blank," should be styled "mr., mrs., and miss mary blank." baronets should be addressed by their full title and surname, as sir john blank, by the upper classes, and by their titles and christian names only by all other classes. baronets' wives should be addressed as "lady b." or "lady c.," according to the surnames of their husbands: thus, "sir john blank's" wife should be addressed as "lady blank" by the upper classes, not as "lady john blank"--to do so would be to give her the rank of the wife of the younger son of a duke or marquis instead of that of a baronet's wife only--and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. the wives of knights should be addressed as "lady b." or "lady c.," according to the surnames of their husbands: thus, "sir john blank's" wife should be addressed as "lady blank" by the upper classes, and as "my lady" or "your ladyship" by all other classes. * * * * * =in addressing foreigners of rank colloquially=, the received rule is to address them by their individual titles and surnames. a prince or princess should be addressed by their full title: thus, "prince munich," or "princess munich," by the upper classes. persons intimate with them usually address them as "prince" or "princess," as the case may be. in the case of a prince being a younger son, and not the reigning head of the house, his christian name is generally used after his title when addressing him: thus, "prince louis," in lieu of "prince" only. the same remark applies to the unmarried daughters of princes. they also should be addressed by their christian name, in addition to their title of "princess," by the aristocracy and gentry, and as "your serene" or "your imperial highness," according to their birth and title, by all other classes. a french duke should be addressed by his surname, with the addition of monsieur: thus, "monsieur de rouen," by the upper classes, and as "monsieur le duc" by all other classes. a french duchess should be addressed by her surname, with the addition of madame: thus, "madame de rouen" by the upper classes, and as "madame la duchesse" by all other classes. a marquis should be addressed by his surname, with the addition of monsieur: thus, "monsieur de harfleur" by the upper classes, and as "monsieur le marquis" by all other classes. a marquise should be addressed by her surname, with the addition of madame: thus, "madame la harfleur" by the upper classes, and as "madame la marquise" by all other classes. a comte should be addressed by his surname, with the addition of monsieur: thus, "monsieur de montpellier" by the upper classes, and as "monsieur le comte" by all other classes. a comtesse should be addressed by her surname, with the addition of madame: thus, "madame de montpellier" by the upper classes, and as "madame la comtesse" by all other classes. a vicomte should be addressed by his surname, with the addition of monsieur: thus, "monsieur de toulouse" by the upper classes, and as "monsieur le vicomte" by all other classes. a vicomtesse should be addressed by her surname, with the addition of madame; thus, "madame de toulouse" by the upper classes, and as "madame la vicomtesse" by all other classes. a baron should be addressed by his surname, with the addition of monsieur: thus, "monsieur d'avignon" by the upper classes, and as "monsieur le baron" by all other classes. a baronne should be addressed by her surname, with the addition of madame: thus, "madame d'avignon" by the upper classes, and as "madame la baronne" by all other classes. a young unmarried lady should be addressed as "mademoiselle d'avignon" by the upper classes, and as "mademoiselle" by all other classes. in german titles the distinction of "von" before the surname is seldom used colloquially, the title and surname being used without the prefix of "von." thus, "count von ausberg" should be addressed as "count ausberg" in conversation, and not as "monsieur le comte." foreign ladies of rank should be addressed by their title and surname, and not by their title only, and the prefix "von" should be omitted; but in the case of a french or italian title the "de" or "de la" before the surname should on no account be omitted. when englishmen are extremely intimate with foreigners of rank they would, in conversation, probably address them by their surnames; but only thorough intimacy and friendship warrants this familiarity. * * * * * =as regards addressing the clergy=, an archbishop should be addressed colloquially as "archbishop" by the upper classes, and as "your grace" by the clergy and all other classes. a bishop should be addressed colloquially as "bishop" by the upper classes, and as "my lord" by the clergy and all other classes. a dean should be styled "dean blank" or "dean," by the upper classes, and as "mr. dean" by the clergy. an archdeacon should be addressed as "archdeacon blank," and a canon as "canon blank." the wives of archbishops, bishops, and deans should be respectively addressed as "mrs. a.," "mrs. b.," or "mrs. c." they take no title from the spiritual rank of their husbands. * * * * * =officers in the army= should be respectively addressed as "general a.," "colonel b.," "major c.," or "captain d.," and not as "general," "colonel," or "major," except by their very intimate friends. the wives of officers should be addressed as "mrs. a.," "mrs. b.," "mrs. c.," or "mrs. d." they should never be addressed as "mrs. general a.," "mrs. colonel b.," "mrs. major c.," or "mrs. captain d." a lady should not address her husband colloquially by his surname only, as "jones," "brown," or by whatever his surname might be, or speak of him without the prefix of "mr." the usual rule is for a wife to speak of her husband as "mr. brown," or "my husband," except to intimate friends, when the christian name only is frequently used, and to address him by his christian name only. a wife should not address her husband by the initial letter of his surname, as "mr. b." or "mr. p."; neither should a husband address his wife by the initial letter of his surname. when intimate friends address each other by the initial letter of their names it is by way of pleasantry only, and such cases, of course, do not come within the rules of etiquette. peeresses frequently address their husbands, and speak of them, by the name attached to their title, in place of using their christian or family name. thus, the "earl of blankshire" would be styled "blankshire" by his wife, without the prefix of "lord," and his usual signature would be "blankshire," without the addition of any christian name. baronets' wives should not address their husbands by their surnames, but by their christian names, and should speak of them as "sir george" or "sir john." the wives of knights also should not address their husbands by their surnames, but by their christian names, and should speak of them as "sir george" or "sir john." the lord mayor should be addressed as "lord mayor," colloquially, and the lady mayoress as "lady mayoress," unless the lord mayor during office is created a baronet or receives the honour of knighthood, when he should be addressed as "sir john" or "sir henry," and his wife as "lady a." chapter vii points of etiquette as regards royal personages general society is now very frequently brought into contact with royalty--members of the royal family of england and members of various royal families of europe. with his majesty this association is of frequent occurrence as regards the general public, and persons possessing special interest are constantly brought into communication with him. strict court etiquette is greatly in abeyance, and laid aside by his majesty when paying visits to personal friends, or when receiving visits from the same. the geniality of the english princes and princesses is everywhere acknowledged, and the restrictions of court etiquette are frequently relaxed by their desire when visiting at the houses of the nobility and gentry. the etiquette that reigns in foreign courts--austria, russia, greece, etc.--is seldom waived, and is adhered to with much punctilio. so much so is this the case with certain foreign princes who visit our shores, that the observances they claim as due to their exalted position are often felt to be a restraint upon the hosts whom they honour with their company, in town or country, at dinner, ball, or country-house party. on the other hand, many royal personages who occasionally visit england are unbending and unceremonious towards society in general. when royal personages visit london for a few weeks, whether located at palace, embassy, or hotel, it is etiquette for any person who is personally acquainted with or connected in any way with their court or cabinet, or who has been presented at their court, to leave cards on them and write their names in their visiting books. persons still higher in the social scale, give receptions in their honour, and invite them to stay at their princely mansions. when such visits are paid, the principal neighbours are usually invited to meet the royal guests at dinner, ball, or reception, and on the invitation card is written, "to meet h.r.h. the crown prince of ----," or "her serene highness the grand duchess of ----," etc.; but a hostess exercises her own discretion respecting the invitations she issues. if a ball is in contemplation the county at large is invited to the mansion, but if dinner invitations only are issued, then the circle is necessarily restricted to a favoured few. the neighbours who are not invited to a house where a royal guest is staying should avoid calling on the hostess until the departure of the royal visitors, even if calls are due. the principal people of a county who happen to be present at an entertainment, either dinner or dance, are usually presented to the royal guests by the host or hostess, permission to do so having been first solicited. when the person to be presented is a person of rank or distinction, it would only be necessary to say, "may i present lord a., or general b., to you, sir?" but if the person to be presented has no particular claim to the honour beyond being popular in the county, the request should be prefaced with a few words of explanation respecting the person to be presented. when the name or fame of those presented has reached the ears of the royal guests, they usually shake hands on the presentation being made, and enter into conversation with them; otherwise they merely bow, and make one or two passing remarks. a house-party is generally composed of those with whom a royal guest is more or less acquainted. when the party includes any one who is a stranger to the royal guests, he or she should be presented on the first opportunity. the members of the royal family have each, more or less, their particular set, as have also the foreign princes who periodically visit this country, and therefore house-parties are usually made up of those moving in the set of the expected prince. for the proper mode of addressing royal personages, see chapter vi. * * * * * =as regards royal invitations=, all invitations from the sovereign are commands, and must be answered and obeyed as such, and the word "command" must be made use of in answering such invitations. if any reason exists for not obeying his majesty's commands it should be stated. invitations from members of the royal family are treated by courtesy as commands, but in replying to such invitations the word "command" should not be used. the answers to such invitations should be addressed to the comptroller of the household, by whom they are usually issued. answers to royal invitations should be written in the third person, and reasons given for non-acceptance. a previous engagement cannot be pleaded as an excuse for refusing a royal invitation; only personal indisposition or serious illness, or death of near relatives, would be adequate reasons for not accepting a royal invitation. when a royal invitation is verbally given, the answer should be verbal also. at all entertainments at which royal guests are present they should be received by the host and hostess in the entrance-hall. in the case of serene highnesses they should be received by the host and conducted by him to the hostess; this rule equally applies to the reception of eastern princes. the etiquette to be observed on the departure of royal personages is identical with that observed on their arrival. with regard to inviting members of the royal family to assist at the opening of any public undertaking, the request should be made through the comptroller of the household of the prince who is to be invited, or through his secretary, and the same rule equally applies to both prince and princess. * * * * * =indian princes.=--the exact status of indian princes has never been actually laid down, but all who are "highnesses" are given precedence at the english court and in society after the royal family and foreign princes. in the procession at court entertainments they go in front of ambassadors. no indian prince is considered to be of blood royal, and they do not stand in the line at levées and courts, but all have the private _entrée_. chapter viii points of etiquette when travelling abroad, and presentations at foreign courts the acquaintanceship of foreign residents is of considerable service to english people purposing to winter abroad, or to remain for any length of time in a continental city, as by its means they obtain an entrance into foreign society. an introduction to the english ambassador or minister at a foreign court is of still greater service in this matter. people of recognised position in society have the privilege of leaving cards at the english embassy at any foreign city in which they intend making a temporary stay. so thoroughly is the position of english travellers known to the english ministry at a foreign court, that should a person, who is not received in english society, leave cards at the english embassy, they would be at once returned as an intimation that the acquaintance is declined. it is erroneous to suppose that by leaving cards upon foreigners of distinction, an acquaintanceship can be commenced, for unless introductions have been formally made, leaving cards is a useless proceeding. at far-away spots little frequented by the general run of travellers, and where there are but few, if any, resident english, travellers requiring advice or assistance from the english consul, can, without an introduction, call upon him, nationality being the ground upon which to do this, and if of equal social standing, they would be received with social consideration; if otherwise, all assistance would be given to them from an official point of view. many people when travelling abroad make pleasant acquaintances even without the help of introductions, the occasion of a meeting being as it were a semi-introduction in itself. such casual acquaintanceships are, however, attended with certain risks, especially to persons who have been absent from england some little time, or who when in england have entered comparatively but little in society, and who are thus apt to drift unawares into close friendships with people perhaps well bred and agreeable, although tabooed at home for some good and sufficient reason. _contretemps_ such as these are painful to kind-hearted people when subsequently compelled to avoid and to relinquish the acquaintance of those with whom they have become pleasantly intimate. an introduction to an english resident in either town or city obviates any unpleasantness of this nature, as one so situated is generally kept _au courant_ with all that takes place in society at home. * * * * * =when persons desire to enter into society abroad= they endeavour to obtain letters of introduction from friends and acquaintances to residents in the cities they purpose visiting. unless english travellers have been duly presented at the court of st. james's, they cannot obtain presentations at foreign courts through the english embassies. when a lady desires a presentation at a foreign court, she should write to the english ambassadress and request the honour of a presentation, and should state the date of her presentation and the name of the lady by whom she was presented. after her statement has been duly verified the request is granted. in a like manner when a gentleman desires a presentation at a foreign court, he should write to the ambassador and request the honour of a presentation, and should state the date of the levée at which he was presented, and the name of the person by whom the presentation was made. presentations at foreign courts take place in the evening, and the persons to be presented, and those who attend, assemble previous to the entrance of the royal personages: the rule is for the grand _maîtresse_ to present each lady in turn to her royal mistress, who makes the tour of the apartment for this purpose, and addresses some courteous observation to each. chapter ix the received mode of pronouncing certain surnames there are, perhaps, two reasons why various surnames are so frequently mispronounced, the one being unfamiliarity with the freak of fashion which governs the pronunciation of certain well-known names, the other ignorance, or want of education. when sensitive persons hear a name pronounced differently from the way in which they have themselves but just pronounced it, and in a tone and manner strongly suggestive of correction, it is wounding to their _amour propre_. as a rule, when persons are in doubt as to the correct pronunciation of any particular name, it would be best to avoid mentioning it, if possible, until their doubts are set at rest by some one better informed than themselves. names that have a fashionable or peculiar pronunciation, or are pronounced otherwise than as they are spelt, are but few, and names which it is possible wrongly to accent are also not very numerous; but it is surprising how often these names occur in the course of conversation. the names of distinguished artists that are open to mispronunciation occur far oftener in conversation than do the general run of uncommon surnames. there are many celebrated hunts and hunting quarters of which the names are open to considerable mispronunciation. with regard to placing the accent on the wrong syllable in the pronunciation of names, it requires but little thought to avoid making this mistake, a popular error being that of placing the accent upon the last syllable of a name; whereas, in a name of two syllables, the accent should invariably be placed upon the first, and the second syllable should be as it were slightly abbreviated or slightly altered. in names of three syllables the error usually consists in placing the accent upon the last syllable, whereas the accent should be placed upon the second syllable. there are occasional exceptions to this rule, and the few names given in this chapter, both as regards their pronunciation and accentuation, will serve as a useful guide in the pronunciation of uncommon names. |spelt. |pronounced. |remarks. | |---------------------|------------------|----------------------------| |abergavenny. |abergen'ny. |_av_ not sounded. | |arbuthnot. |arbuth'not. | | |arundel. |arrandel. | | | | | | |beaconsfield. |beckonsfield. | | |beauchamp. |bea'cham. | | |beauclerk or } |bo'clair. |accent on first syllable. | |beauclerc. } | | | |belvoir. |be'ver. | | |berkely. |bark'ley. | | |bethune. |bee'ton. | | |bicester. |bis'ter. |accent on first syllable. | |blount. |blunt. | | |blyth. |bly. |_th_ not sounded. | |bourke. |burk. | | |bourne. |burn. | | |bowles. |boles. | | |breadalbane. |breaddal'bane. |accent on second syllable. | |brougham. |broum. | | |buchan. |buck'an. |accent on first syllable. | |burdett. |burdett'. |accent on last syllable. | |burnett. |burnett'. |accent on last syllable. | |bury. |berry. | | | | | | |calderon. |cal'dron not | | | | cauldron. | | |charteris. |charters. | | |cholmeley. |chum'ley. | | |cholmondeley. | " | | |cirencester. |cis'ester. |accent on first syllable. | |clanricarde. |clanrecarde. |accent on second syllable. | |cockburn. |c[=o]burn. |_ck_ not sounded. | |colquhoun. |kohoon'. |accent on last syllable. | |conynham. |cunyingham. | | |coutts. |koots. | | |cowper. |cooper. | | | | | | |dalziel. |dee'al. |accent on first syllable. | |derby. |darby. | | |des vaux. |deveu. |the _x_ not sounded. | |devereux. |devereu. |the _x_ not sounded. | |dillwyn. |dil'lun. |the _wy_ takes the sound | | | | of _u_; the accent on | | | | first syllable. | |duchesne. |dukarn. | | |du plat. |du plar. | | | | | | |elgin. | |the _g_ hard as in give. | |eyre. |air. | | | | | | |fildes. |filedes. |not filldes. | |fortescue. |fort'iskew. | | | | | | |geoffrey. |jefrey. | | |geoghegan. |gaygan. | | |gifford. |jifford. |the _g_ soft as in george. | |gillett. | |_g_ hard as in gilbert. | |gillott. | |_g_ hard. | |glamis. |glarms. | | |gorges. |gor'jes. |first _g_ hard and second | | | | _g_ soft. | |gough. |goff. | | |gower. |gor. |but gower as regards the | | | | street of that name with | | | | the general public. | | | | | |harcourt. |har'kut. |accent on first syllable. | |heathcote. |heth'kut. | | |hertford. |har'ford. | | |home. |hume. | | |hughes. |hews. | | | | | | |jervis. |jarvis. | | |johnstone. | |the _t_ not sounded. | | | | | |kennaird. |kennaird'. |accent on last syllable. | |kennard. |kennard'. |accent on last syllable. | |ker. |kar. | | |knollys. |knowls. | | | | | | |layard. |laird. | | |leconfield. |lek'onfield. | | |lefevre. |lefavre. | | |leigh. |lee. | | |lyvedon. |livden. | | | | | | |macnamara. |macnemar'ar. |accent on third syllable. | |mainwaring. |man'nering. | | |marjoribanks. |marshbanks. | | |mcintosh. |makintosh. | | |mcleod. |mccloud. | | |menzies. |myng'es. |accent on first syllable. | |meux. |mews. |the _x_ sounded as _s_. | |millais. |mil'lay. |accent on first syllable. | |milnes. |mills. | | |molyneux. | |the _x_ sounded with slight | | | | accent on last syllable. | |monck. |munk. | | |monckton. |munk'ton. |accent on first syllable. | |monson. |munson. | | |montgomerie or} |mungum'ery. |accent on second syllable. | |montgomery. } | | | |mowbray. |mobrey. | | | | | | |nigel. |ni'jel. | | | | | | |ouless. |ooless. | | | | | | |parnell. |parnell'. |accent on last syllable. | |pepys. |pep'is. |accent on first syllable. | |pierrepont. |pierpont. | | |ponsonby. |punsonby. | | |pontefract. |pomfret. | | |pugh. |pew. | | |pytchley. |p[=y]tch'ley. |not pitchley. | | | | | |ruthven. |riv'en. | | | | | | |sandys. |sands. | | |st. clair. |sinclair. | | |st. maur. |see'mor, or | | | |s'nt maur. | | |st. john. |sinjin. |as regards christian and | | | | surname, but as st. john | | | | when applied to church | | | | or locality. | |seymour. |sey'mer. |accent on first syllable. | |strachan. |strawn. | | | | | | |tadema. |tad'ymar. |accent on first syllable. | |tollemache. |tollmash. | | |trafalgar. |trafalgar'. |accent on last syllable; as | | | | regards the peer of that | | | | name, not otherwise. | |tredegar. |trede'gar. |accent on second syllable. | |tremayne. |tremayne'. |accent on last syllable. | |tyrwhitt. |tirritt. | | | | | | |vaughan. |vorn. | | |vaux. | |the _x_ sounded. | |villbois. |vealbwor. | | |villiers. |vil'lers. | | | | | | |waldegrave. |wal'grave. |the _de_ not sounded. | |wemyss. |weems. | | |willoughby d'eresby. |willowby d'ersby. | | chapter x presentations at courts and attending courts courts are now held in lieu of drawing-rooms by their majesties the king and queen at buckingham palace, and at which presentations to their majesties are made. these courts are held in the evenings at ten o'clock, but the hour at which the company should commence to arrive is intimated by the lord chamberlain in the notice issued of the courts to be held. two courts are usually, but not invariably, held before easter, and two more after easter. ladies who have been presented at drawing-rooms and courts, held during the last two reigns, do not require to be again presented to their majesties the king and queen; thus, ladies who have already been presented at these drawing-rooms, and who are desirous of being invited to one or other of these courts, and who are also desirous of making presentations, should send in their names and the names of those to be presented by them to the lord chamberlain, st. james's palace, s.w., on the st of january in each year, but not before that date. ladies are also privileged to mention at the same time when it will be most convenient to them to pay their respects to their majesties. if it should not be convenient for a lady to attend or be presented at the particular court to which she is invited, it will be open to her to make her excuses to the lord chamberlain in writing, when her name can, if desired, and if possible, be transferred to another list. a lady who makes a presentation to their majesties, must be personally acquainted with and responsible for the lady she presents. she must herself attend the court, and cannot present more than one lady in addition to her daughter or daughter-in-law. the numbers received at each court being necessarily limited, ladies can only receive occasional invitations. therefore, those who cannot be included in the year's list of invitations will receive an intimation to this effect from the lord chamberlain in answer to their applications to attend. * * * * * =the persons entitled to be presented at their majesties' courts= are the wives and daughters of the members of the aristocracy, the wives and daughters of those holding high official appointments in the government, the wives and daughters of members of parliament, the county gentry and town gentry, the wives and daughters of the members of the legal, military, naval, clerical, medical, and other professions, the wives and daughters of merchants, bankers, and members of the stock exchange, and persons engaged in commerce on a large scale. although the word "gentry" is thus elastic, and although persons coming within the category might be fairly entitled to the privilege of attending courts, yet it is well understood that birth, wealth, associations, and position give a _raison d'être_ for such privilege; as, for instance, the wife and daughters of an officer in the navy or a line regiment, whose means are slender, and whose position is obscure, would not be justified for these reasons in attending a court, although the officer himself might attend a levée if desirous of doing so; and this remark equally applies to the wives and daughters of clergymen, barristers, and others similarly situated. * * * * * =presentations to their majesties= are made officially by the various foreign ambassadresses, by the wives of the members of the cabinet, and by the wives of other official personages in various departments of the state, either civil, military, naval, or clerical. presentations at each of their majesties' courts are now limited by royal command. presentations to their majesties should be made either by a relative or a friend of the lady presented who has herself been previously presented. a lady has the privilege of presenting one lady only at a court in addition to her daughter or daughter-in-law. this restriction does not apply to ladies who, from official position or other circumstances, are specially privileged to make presentations to their majesties. when a presentation is not made officially or by a near relative it is considered a favour on the part of the person making the presentation towards the person presented. the responsibility of a presentation rests upon the person who makes it, both as to the social and moral fitness of the person presented; therefore, to solicit the favour of a presentation from a friend is to incur a considerable obligation, and it is a favour ladies have no hesitation in refusing unless good reasons exist for granting it. when presentations are made through official channels the responsibility rests upon the "office" rather than upon the person making the presentation; hence presentations so made have little personal significance to the person making them. * * * * * =a lady having been presented on her marriage= has the privilege of attending, by invitation, any subsequent court, but ladies who have no official position will only be allowed to attend a court by summons every third year. on the accession of her husband to any title, she would again have to be presented, and should she marry a second time another presentation would be necessary to entitle her to attend one of their majesties' courts. * * * * * =it is the privilege of the married lady to make presentations=, but should any person be presented whose antecedents or present position renders her socially unqualified to be presented, the lord chamberlain, on becoming aware of the fact, would at once cancel the presentation, and officially announce it in the _gazette_, and the person making such presentation would be expected to tender an apology for so doing. * * * * * =an unmarried lady does not possess the privilege= of making a presentation, however high her rank may be. she is not permitted to attend any subsequent courts after first presentation until three years have elapsed; save under exceptional circumstances. four courts are held during each year at buckingham palace, two before and two after easter, but due intimation is given previous to each court being held by the lord chamberlain through the medium of the official _gazette_, from whence it is copied into the newspapers. the wives of members of the cabinet and of the ambassadors or ministers at the court of st. james's usually attend at each court, and have the privilege of doing so by reason of the official presentations made by them at each court. * * * * * =it is compulsory for a lady= making a presentation to be herself present at the court at which the presentation is to be made, though it is not necessary for her to accompany the person whom she presents, but simply to attend the same court. * * * * * =when a lady intends making a presentation= she should, on or after the st of january write to the lord chamberlain and inform him of a wish to attend a court, and forward the name of the lady to be presented by her. * * * * * =ladies are not expected= to attend court more than once in every three years, unless under exceptional circumstances. * * * * * =a lady attending a court= may present one lady in addition to her daughter or daughter-in-law. * * * * * =a lady presented for the first time= can only present her daughter or daughter-in-law at the court at which she is presented. * * * * * =no applications can be received= from ladies who wish to be presented. their names must be forwarded by the ladies who wish to make the presentations. * * * * * =summonses are issued= about three weeks before the date of each court. ladies may be accompanied to court by their husbands if the latter have been presented, but gentlemen do not pass before the king and queen. ladies are requested to forward the names of their husbands at the same time as their own, in order that they may be submitted together, as once the summons has been issued the amending of a summons card in order to include a lady's husband can only be permitted under the most exceptional circumstances. * * * * * =those who have the privilege of the entrée= enter at the gate of the palace situated outside buckingham gate. those who possess this privilege are the diplomatic circle, the cabinet ministers and their wives, and the members of the household. the rooms, two in number, next to the presence chamber, are appropriated to them. all who have the privilege of the _entrée_ are received by their majesties before the general circle, and according to their individual precedency, and they have also the privilege of making the first presentations. * * * * * =when a lady arrives at the palace= she should leave her wraps in the cloak-room with one of the maids in attendance. after crossing the great hall, she then makes her way up the grand staircase to the corridor, where she shows her invitation-card to the page-in-waiting, and then passes on to one of the saloons. when a lady arrives early she gains admission to the saloon next to those reserved for the _entrée_. when she arrives late she has to take her place in a further room of the suite according to the number of persons present. the gentlemen-at-arms stationed at the door of each room close the gilt barriers when they consider the saloons are full. chairs and benches are placed in the corridor and in these saloons for the accommodation of ladies thus waiting their turn to enter the throne-room or presence chamber. as the ladies quit each room for the presence chamber, others take their places, and the barriers are again closed, and this is continued until every one has been received. a lady has to pass through the two _entrée_ saloons before reaching the picture gallery. at the door of the picture gallery a lady's train, which she has hitherto carried on her arm, is let down by two officials in attendance, and spread out by them with their wands; she should cross the gallery with her train down to the presence chamber, at the door of which she should give the card of invitation she has brought with her to the official stationed there to receive it. * * * * * =a lady on being presented=, curtsys to the king and curtsys to the queen. the king bows in return, as does also the queen. a lady presented does not kiss the queen's hand, as she formerly did. the king does not shake hands with any present, however high their rank may be, neither does the queen shake hands with any present. a lady on being presented does not now curtsy to any member of the royal family when she has passed their majesties, and leaves the presence chamber, stepping backwards, facing the royal party, until making her exit from the apartment, when an official places her train on her arm at the threshold of the doorway. * * * * * =when a lady wishes to attend a court=, after having been duly presented, it is necessary to inform the lord chamberlain of her wish to attend. summonses are issued about three weeks before the date of each court. having received a summons to attend a court she should take the summons card with her, which she should show to the page-in-waiting in the corridor, and eventually hand it to the official stationed at the door of the presence chamber, by whom it is passed on to the lord chamberlain, who announces the name to their majesties. a lady attending a court curtsys to the king; she also curtsys to the queen, but does not curtsy to any other member of the royal family present. * * * * * =in the general circle there is no precedency= as to the order in which ladies attending a court enter the presence chamber. the earliest arrivals are the first to appear before their majesties, without reference to rank or position; and the same rule applies to ladies who are presented, or to ladies who make presentations. * * * * * =a married lady presented at a court= can, at the same court, present her daughter or daughter-in-law; but in this case the one presented by her should enter the presence chamber after her, and not before her. although, according to present regulations, the unmarried daughters of members of the nobility and gentry who have already been presented are only expected to attend a court once in every three years, it will not prevent their being invited to court functions, to the state balls, concerts, and garden parties. * * * * * =ladies who have been presented at a court= have the privilege of writing their names in their majesties' visiting book at buckingham palace once during the season. the hours of calling for this purpose are generally from three to five o'clock in the afternoon. * * * * * =it is imperative for ladies to wear full court dress= when attending or being presented at a court, viz. low bodice, short sleeves, and train to dress not less than three yards in length from the shoulders. whether the train is cut round or square is a matter of inclination or fashion. the width at the end should be inches. it is also imperative that a presentation-dress should be white, if the person presented be an unmarried lady; and it is also the fashion for married ladies to wear white on their presentation, unless their age renders their doing so unsuitable. the white dresses worn by either _débutantes_ or married ladies may be trimmed with either coloured or white flowers, according to individual taste. * * * * * =high court dress.=--the queen has been pleased to permit that a high court dress of silk, satin, or velvet, may be worn at their majesties' courts, and on other state occasions, by ladies, to whom, from illness, infirmity, or advancing age, the present low court dress is inappropriate, viz.: bodices in front, cut square, or heart-shaped, which may be filled in with white only, either transparent or lined; at the back, high, or cut down three-quarters height. sleeves to elbow, either thick or transparent. trains, gloves, and feathers as usual. it is necessary for ladies who wish to appear in "high court dress" to obtain royal permission, through the lord chamberlain. this regulation does not apply to ladies who have already received permission to wear high dress. * * * * * =white gloves only should be worn=, excepting in case of mourning, when black or grey gloves are admissible. as a lady on presentation does not now kiss the queen's hand as formerly she did, she is not required to remove the right-hand glove before entering the presence chamber. this order, therefore, is no longer in force, and a lady wearing elbow gloves and bracelets will find it a great convenience not to be obliged to take off her glove. * * * * * =it is compulsory for both married and unmarried ladies to wear plumes.=--the married lady's court plume consists of three white feathers. an unmarried lady's of two white feathers. * * * * * =the three white feathers= should be mounted as a prince of wales' plume, and worn towards the left-hand side of the head. * * * * * =coloured feathers= may not be worn. * * * * * =in deep mourning= white feathers must be worn, black feathers are inadmissible. * * * * * =white veils or lace lappets= must be worn with the feathers. the veils should not be longer than inches. * * * * * =bouquets are not included= in the dress regulations issued by the lord chamberlain, although they are invariably carried by both married and unmarried ladies. it is thus optional to carry a bouquet or not, and some elderly ladies carry much smaller bouquets than do younger ladies. a fan and a lace pocket-handkerchief are also carried by a lady on presentation or on attending a court, but these two items are also altogether optional. chapter xi presentations at levÉes and attending levÉes =levées are held by the king= in person. those who have been presented at levées held by his late majesty, king edward, do not require to be again presented to his majesty king george. * * * * * =four or more levées are usually held every year= by the king at st. james's palace. gentlemen are officially presented by the heads of any department or profession to which they individually belong, whether civil or military, naval or clerical; it is more usual for a gentleman to be presented by the head of his department, or by the colonel of his regiment, than by his nearest relative. * * * * * =presentations are also made by relatives= and friends of those presented; but these are greatly in the minority at all levées. * * * * * =gentlemen must be again presented= at every step in their career, whether civil, military, naval, or clerical--on civil appointments, on gaining steps of naval, military, legal, or clerical rank, and on accession to title, whether inherited or conferred. * * * * * =those entitled to be presented at his majesty's levées= are the members of the aristocracy and gentry, the members of the diplomatic corps, the cabinet, and all leading government officials, members of parliament, leading members of the legal profession, the naval and military professions, the leading members of the clerical profession, the leading members of the medical and artistic professions, the leading bankers, merchants, and members of the stock exchange, and persons engaged in commerce on a large scale. an exception to the rule as regards retail trade is made in favour of any person receiving knighthood, or when holding the office of mayor, or being made a justice of the peace, or on receiving a commission in the territorial forces. the dates on which levées are to be held are duly announced in the _gazette_, and in the daily newspapers. at all future levées cards of admission will be required, as the numbers at each of these ceremonies must be limited. the lord chamberlain has issued the following revised list of rules, which are to be observed at attendances and presentations in future-- all officers, whether on the active or retired lists, of the royal navy and the royal marines, of whatever rank, should communicate with and obtain their cards from the private secretary to the first lord of the admiralty. all civil officers of the admiralty should follow the same rule. all officers, whether on the active or retired lists, of the army, regulars or territorials, of whatever rank, except those on the indian and colonial establishments, should communicate with and obtain their cards from the adjutant-general at the war office, stating clearly at which levée they desire to be present, and whether they wish to attend or to be presented; if the latter, stating by whom and on what occasion. deputy-lieutenants of counties should also communicate and obtain their cards from the war office. officers of the household cavalry and foot guards on the active list should make application to the lord chamberlain at st. james's palace for cards of admission and presentation. all retired officers of the household cavalry and brigade of guards should apply to the war office. all officers of the indian civil service and of the indian army, of whatever rank, whether on the active or retired lists, should communicate with, and obtain their cards from the private secretary to the secretary of state at the india office, whitehall. all officers of the colonial service and colonial forces, of whatever rank, whether on the active or retired lists, should communicate with and obtain their cards from the colonial office, whitehall. similarly, all gentlemen connected with the foreign office, the home office, officials connected with the houses of parliament, or any government department, should communicate with and obtain their cards for attendance or presentation at levées from the department under which they serve. judges, law officers, king's counsel, and all legal officials holding appointments under the crown are requested to make their applications through the secretary to the lord chancellor. peers, bishops, lords-lieutenants of counties, members of parliament, clergy of all denominations, and all gentlemen, other than the above-mentioned, should communicate with the lord chamberlain at st. james's palace, when they will each be furnished with a card of admission for use at the levée. the names both for attendance and presentation must be received at the various offices above indicated not later than eight days prior to the date of each levée, but in the case of officers, who make application to the war office, fourteen days before the date of each levée. * * * * * =when a gentleman makes a presentation= it is compulsory for him to attend the same levée as the person whom he presents, and the card of presentation is sent to him to be forwarded to the person to be presented. * * * * * =a gentleman on being presented= should bow to the king, and his majesty will bow to him in return. gentlemen attending a levée should also bow to his majesty. * * * * * =gentlemen who have been presented= at a levée have the privilege of writing their names in his majesty's visiting book at buckingham palace once during the season. the hours of calling for this purpose are generally from three to five o'clock in the afternoon. * * * * * =the dress to be worn at courts, state functions and levées.=--full dress uniform is invariably worn by all gentlemen entitled to wear it. all officers of scottish kilted corps should wear the kilt irrespective of their being mounted officers or not. gentlemen who do not wear uniform may wear either velvet court dress, new style; velvet court dress, old style; cloth court dress. the new style velvet court dress is of black silk velvet. the body of the coat lined with white silk and the skirt with black silk. steel buttons. waistcoat of white satin or black silk velvet. breeches of black silk velvet, black silk hose, patent leather shoes, steel buckled; white bow necktie, white gloves, sword, black beaver or silk cocked hat. the velvet court dress, old style, is very similar to the foregoing, with the addition of a black silk wig-bag at the back of the neck, and lace frills and ruffles. the cloth court dress consists of a coat of dark mulberry, claret, or green cloth with black silk linings, gold embroidery on collar, cuffs, and pocket flaps, gilt buttons with imperial crown; waistcoat of white corded silk or white marcella; breeches of cloth, colour of coat; black silk hose, patent leather shoes, sword, white bow necktie, white gloves, black beaver or silk cocked hat. levée dress is identical with the foregoing except that trousers--with a row of narrow gold lace down the side seams--are worn, and not breeches. military patent leather boots. * * * * * =archbishops and bishops= at levées and courts wear convocation robes, viz. scarlet cloth chimere, without hood; purple cassock and sash, lawn rochet with sleeves, white cambric bands, black silk scarf, black breeches, silver knee buckles, black silk stockings, shoes with silver buckles; purple or black velvet square soft cap to be carried. at evening state functions and full dress dinners they wear a purple cloth court coat over a short cassock or apron, sash of purple silk, black breeches, black silk stockings, shoes with silver buckles; black corded silk three-cornered hat to be carried. * * * * * =deans and archdeacons= at evening state functions wear the same dress as bishops except that the coat and short cassock are black. doctors of divinity at levées and courts wear the scarlet cloth robe of their university, without hood. * * * * * =clergy if not doctors of divinity= at levées and courts wear full canonicals, that is, a black silk geneva gown, double-breasted; black silk long cassock and sash, scarf and white lawn bands, black breeches, silver knee buckles, black silk stockings, shoes with silver buckles, black corded silk three-cornered hat. at full dress dinners and evening state parties when canonicals are not worn, they wear a black cloth court coat, cassock, waistcoat of black corded silk, black breeches, black silk stockings, shoes, silver buckles; black corded silk three-cornered hat to be carried. white gloves are worn at all court functions. the academical habit should not be worn at court except when addresses are presented from the universities. when the court is in mourning, gentlemen attending a levée are expected to wear a band of black crape on the left arm above the elbow. chapter xii balls and state balls =balls= are given in town and country by society at large, and these invitation balls include hunt balls, military and naval balls, yeomanry and territorial balls, bachelors' balls, etc. * * * * * =public balls= are those balls for which tickets of admission can be purchased, although for many of these balls it is necessary to obtain vouchers from the committees or patronesses, when held in town or at watering-places. public balls include county balls, charity balls, and subscription balls, etc. * * * * * =in town, ball-giving= is in a way a science, and an amusement upon which large sums of money are frequently expended. * * * * * =a crowded ball= is not always pronounced a good ball by the guests, often the contrary, but then, again, what is termed a thin ball is open to the accusation of not going off well, and falling rather flat; of not being kept up with spirit, and of being considered a stupid ball, and so on. to hit upon a happy medium with regard to the number of guests is an achievement in ball-giving which is only arrived at by a careful study of the map of the county, and a judicious selection of night. this selection is of paramount importance to the success of a ball, as when a smarter ball is given at a smarter house on the particular evening chosen by the giver of a less brilliant ball, the grander ball extinguishes the lesser ball, through the most fashionable people merely looking in at the one, and remaining the rest of the evening at the other. this putting out as it were of the lesser light, occurs very frequently during the london season to ball-givers moving in the same sets. the guests who have been expected to add lustre to the lesser balls appear but for a few minutes, and usually arrive rather early, uncomplimentarily early, at perhaps a little before eleven, and remain hardly half an hour in the rooms, making their way to another ball of the same calibre, and remaining there perhaps another twenty minutes, before arriving at the goal, viz. _the_ ball of the evening. both ladies and gentlemen follow this practice, thus, at a little after twelve, an average ball-giver finds her rooms deserted by all but those who have nowhere else to go. although the flitting of the guests thus early is a disappointment to the hostess, and although it does not prevent the fleeting ball-givers from making suitable returns by placing the family on their ball lists, it yet greatly mars the enjoyment of the ball, and prevents its being looked back upon with anything approaching to pleasure or satisfaction, the departure of the most eligible partners being not the least of the vexations of the night. these _contretemps_ are sometimes unavoidable; but, when practicable, it is always best to postpone a ball rather than to allow it to clash with a ball of greater pretensions. an impromptu dance is often a great success, while an impromptu ball is almost as certain to prove a great failure. * * * * * =the difference between a dance and a ball= consists in the number of the invitations issued, in the strength of the band, and the extent of the supper arrangements. at a dance the number of the guests varies from eighty to two hundred; at a ball they vary from two hundred to five hundred. at a dance a piano band is frequently engaged, while at a ball a full band is requisite. at a ball the floral decorations are a great feature, at a small dance they are often dispensed with. ladies new to society as it were, or whose circle of acquaintance is of a limited character, and who do not number in that circle many ball-givers, and who yet desire to form a ball acquaintance, frequently place their ball in the hands of some intimate friend of higher standing than themselves, giving her _carte blanche_ to form a ball list. when this plan is followed, invitations are still sent out by the ball-giver; in every case the name and compliments of the lady who forms the list are sent with the card. this plan, although of advantage to the hostess, is often productive of much unpleasantness to her unfashionable friends, who are naturally very much affronted at being excluded from the ball list, which they usually are, as a lady who undertakes to form a ball list for a friend is not a little arbitrary as to the conditions under which she assumes its management. she naturally wishes the ball to be confined to her own set, to the exclusion of what she terms all outsiders. ladies are always more or less reluctant to yield up their ball to the exclusion of their old friends, however anxious they may be to make new ones. but when a ball is thus given it is thoroughly understood that conditions, however stringent, must be complied with. * * * * * =a hostess should receive her guests= at the head of the staircase at a ball given in town, and at the door of the ball-room at a country house ball. she should shake hands with each guest in the order of their arrival. the ladies of a party should advance towards the hostess, followed by the gentlemen of their party. a lady and gentleman should not ascend the staircase arm-in-arm, or make their entrance into the ball-room arm-in-arm. the gentlemen invariably enter the ball-room after the ladies of their party, and never before them, or arm-in-arm with them. a ball is usually opened either by the hostess herself, or by one of her daughters. * * * * * =opening a fancy dress ball= simply signifies dancing in the first quadrille. opening a dance means dancing the first valse. when a member of the royal family, or a foreign prince, is expected, dancing should not commence until the arrival of the royal guest; and when the royal guest is a lady, the host should open the ball with her, having his wife or daughter as _vis-à-vis_. when the royal guest is a prince, the hostess or her daughter should open the ball with him. when a prince wishes to dance with any lady present, with whom he is unacquainted, his equerry informs her of the prince's intention, and conducts her to the prince, saying as he does so, "mrs. a----, your royal highness" or "miss b----, your royal highness." the prince bows and offers her his arm; the lady should curtsey and take it. she should not address him until addressed by him, it not being considered etiquette to do so. the same course is followed by a princess; strangers to the princess should not ask her to dance, but the host has the privilege of doing so. when more than one royal personage is present, the one of the highest rank leads the way, with either hostess or host. (see chapter v.) * * * * * =royal guests= should be received by the host and hostess at the entrance of the mansion, and by them conducted to the ball-room. at ball-suppers the same precedence is strictly in force, the royal guests leading the way with host or hostess (see p. ). the same etiquette should be observed on the departure of royal guests as on their arrival. * * * * * =general introductions= should not be made to royal guests, and introductions should be made by request only. gentlemen present at a ball are expected to ask the daughters of the house for one dance at least. a hostess should use her own discretion as to any introduction she thinks proper to make. when a ball is given in the country, the hostess should endeavour to find partners for those young ladies who are strangers to the general company. but when a ball is given in town, she is not expected to do so, as in town the guests are supposed to be acquainted with each other more or less, and to be independent of the kind offices of a hostess. * * * * * =the dances mainly in vogue at the moment= are, "valses," "the boston," "two steps," and "the cotillon," in which handsome presents are given. "quadrilles" are danced at "state balls," and at those balls at which the king and queen are present. also at "fancy dress balls." "lancers" are danced occasionally at "hunt balls." * * * * * =the precedency observed= in sending guests in to supper is far more punctiliously followed in the country than in town. the host should take in the lady of highest rank present, and the hostess should endeavour to send in the principal guests according to their individual rank; but in town she generally leaves the guests to follow the host and lady of highest rank according to their inclinations, a guest should not enter the supper-room before the host has done so. when a gentleman takes a lady in to supper, he should re-conduct her to the ball-room as a matter of course; the fact of friends joining her in the supper-room would not relieve him from this obligation. and the same etiquette applies equally to a lady. she should return to the ball-room only with the gentleman who has taken her down to supper, unless she is engaged for the ensuing dance, when her partner might come in quest of her; she should then return to the ball-room with him. it is not usual for guests to take leave of a hostess at a london ball. this remark applies to acquaintances of the hostess, and not to intimate friends. at a country ball the guests are on a more friendly footing than is generally the case in town; and, therefore, make a point of taking leave of the hostess if possible. it is optional whether a host conducts a lady to her carriage or not. in the country more is expected of him than in town in this respect, as at a london ball, such a civility would involve a vast amount of exertion which few hosts would be willing to undergo: ladies accompanied by an acquaintance generally make their way to their carriages. * * * * * =the custom of covering in small balconies= and the windows of the drawing-rooms where a ball takes place, rendering the atmosphere of the room almost insupportable from the total exclusion of air, is fast disappearing. the space gained by this means for the accommodation of the guests is totally disproportionate to the discomfort thereby entailed upon them. ball-givers have at length realised the mistake of crowding two hundred to three hundred people together into rooms not properly ventilated, and it is now the rule, when covering in balconies, to introduce window frames into the bunting covering, and to drape them with lace curtains, etc., the windows of the ball-room being entirely removed. large blocks of ice are frequently placed in convenient spots for the purpose of cooling the atmosphere, and coloured ice produces a pretty effect. patent ventilators are also much in use, and the substitution of electric lighting, on account of its emitting little heat, has become general. ball-goers appreciate these alterations as only those who have experienced the close, stifling atmosphere of an over-crowded ball-room can do, and as half the london ball-rooms are only average-sized drawing-rooms, the absurdity of excluding air from the ball-room with yards of thick canvas cannot be too severely criticised. ball-givers, too, frequently issue far more invitations than the size of their rooms authorises, under the mistaken idea that to have a great crowd in their rooms is to give a good ball. but experienced ball-givers limit the number of their invitations to under two hundred, instead of expanding it to over three hundred. * * * * * =the country ball season= ostensibly commences in november, reaches its zenith in january, and terminates early in february. the stewards of these balls are, as a rule, the representatives of the various classes by whom they are attended; the members of the aristocracy residing in the county heading the list of stewards, and the members of the professional classes usually closing it. the top of the ball-room is, as a rule, appropriated by the aristocratic element, head stewards and "lady patronesses." the enjoyment derived from country balls depends upon a variety of circumstances, which do not influence in a like degree the ball-going world of london. * * * * * =county balls= are principally composed of a series of large parties brought by different ladies in the neighbourhood where the ball is held; but there are two classes of county balls, balls which are held in large and populous towns and attended by the principal residents of the towns, with only a small sprinkling of the county aristocracy and county gentry. there are also hunt balls and annual charity balls which take place between october and february, and which are an amalgamation of both classes of balls. the neighbourhood where a ball is held is a sufficient indication as to whether it is likely to be a smart one or not. as a rule the leading ladies of a county lend their names as patronesses and supporters of a charity ball, although it by no means follows that they will personally attend it; but a long list of influential patronesses materially increases the sale of tickets, which is the result to be achieved. a large attendance is not the primary object of a county ball, as the sum raised by the sale of tickets is only required to defray the expenses of the ball, although these are sometimes considerable, especially when the decorations are elaborate, and the arrangements on a grand scale, in which case there is not seldom a deficiency rather than a surplus, which deficiency is defrayed by the stewards themselves. to ensure a good ball considerable unanimity on the part of the county ladies is demanded, and they usually meet and consult together previous to fixing the date of the ball, to take into consideration the fixtures of neighbouring county balls, and so avoid the possibility of the said balls clashing with their own county ball, and also with a view of perhaps attracting the house parties of their more distant neighbours to swell the numbers at their own ball. house parties invited for a ball vary from ten to twenty-five, as the accommodation of a house admits. it is not the province of the stewards of a ball to find partners for either ladies or gentlemen, and therefore, if a lady does not form one of a large party, but merely attends a county ball with a relative or friend, and has not a large acquaintance amongst these present, she has very little chance of obtaining partners. young ladies do not now return to their chaperons after each dance, or after they have been to the tea-room. a gentleman should offer his arm to his partner at the conclusion of a dance to conduct her to the tea-room. in round dances, it is customary to take frequent pauses, and not to race round the ball-room until the music ceases. at country balls programmes are invariably used; at london balls they are never used, save at public balls. county balls usually commence between nine and ten o'clock, sometimes a ball is not opened until the most influential of the stewards and their parties have arrived, but oftener than not the two first dances are over before the arrival of the county magnates. it depends upon the length of the drive at what time people arrive at a ball; as a rule, they do not arrive later than . p.m. the usual mode of conveying a house-party to a ball is by private omnibus in addition to carriages and motor cars; but when these are hired for the occasion the expense should be defrayed by the guests themselves. it is usual to leave a country ball not later than half-past two; the most fashionable people invariably do so about that hour. as a matter of course persons attending public balls take their ball tickets with them. * * * * * =when attending a military ball=, or a hunt ball, it is usually the rule to take the invitation card and hand it to the sergeant or official in attendance. it is sometimes stated on the invitation card that this is to be done, although it is often taken for granted that persons will do so of their own accord. at balls given by private individuals, the invited guests should not bring their invitation cards with them, unless in the case of a _bal masqué_, where they are sometimes requested to do so. in giving a ball three weeks' notice is considered necessary, but with regard to a dance a short ten days' notice would suffice. * * * * * =the invitation card= is the usual "at home" card, the word "dancing" being printed in the corner of the card. the word "ball" should never be used on an invitation card, however grand the entertainment; and the same form of invitation is employed either in the case of a small dance or of a large ball, though in the event of a small dance only being given, the words "small" or "early" should be written or printed on the invitation card. invitations to a ball should be issued in the name of the hostess only. when the host is a widower, with a grown-up daughter, the invitations should be issued in their joint names. when the host is a widower, or a bachelor, they should be issued in his name. invitations issued by officers, members of hunt committees, bachelors, etc., to their balls, either request the pleasure or the honour of mrs. ----'s company; but this formula should not be used by ladies when issuing invitations; the "at home" card should simply bear the word "dancing" on the bottom of the card, the hour and date filled in in the allotted space, the name of the guest written at the top of the card. in the case of a written invitation, it would be correct to use the words "ball" or "dance" when alluding to the entertainment about to be given, in a friendly note. a lady or gentleman might ask for an invitation for his or her friend to a ball given by an acquaintance, although the acquaintanceship were of a slight character; but a lady or gentleman should not ask for an invitation to a ball if unacquainted with the giver of it. the fact of mutual friends having received invitations to a ball gives no claim upon the hospitality of a stranger, therefore such requests are inadmissible. the proper course for a person to pursue in the event of desiring an invitation to a ball given by some one with whom he or she is unacquainted, is to request some mutual friend to obtain one; and this course is always followed. * * * * * =cards should be left= by the guests present at a ball within the current week if possible. (see chapter iii.) * * * * * =gratuities= should never be given by the guests to the servants of the house where a ball is given. * * * * * =state balls.=--two state balls are annually given at buckingham palace during the london season by command of his majesty. invitations are issued by the lord chamberlain, but his majesty previously revises the list. when ladies and gentlemen attend a state ball at buckingham palace they make their way to the ball-room _unannounced_; and there is no official reception accorded to them, either by "royalty" or by the lord chamberlain. dancing does not commence until the arrival of the royal party, when the guests rise and remain standing while the royal quadrille--with which the ball opens--is being danced. the king and queen act as host and hostess on these occasions, but confine their attentions to those with whom they are personally acquainted. ladies attending a state ball at buckingham palace should wear the usual full evening dress; but they should not wear court trains, or plumes, or lappets. gentlemen attending state balls should wear uniform or full court dress--dress coat, breeches and silk stockings, shoes and buckles; trousers can only be worn as part of a uniform, and not with a court dress as generally worn at a levée. a gentleman intending to dance should remove his sword, otherwise he should not do so. when the court is in mourning, ladies attending a state ball should wear mourning according to the official notice which duly appears in the _gazette_. gentlemen should wear crape on the left arm, which is supplied in the cloak-room of the palace to those who have forgotten to provide themselves with it, as it is imperative, when the court is in mourning, that a band of crape should be worn at either state ball or state concert. the balls given by the princes and princesses of the blood royal are not state balls, therefore court dress is not worn by the gentlemen present. they act as host and hostess at the balls given by them and receive their guests, shaking hands with them as they are announced. ladies and gentlemen do not take their cards of invitation with them to buckingham palace. chapter xiii dinner giving and dining out =dinner= giving is perhaps the most important of all social observances, therefore dinner parties rank first amongst all entertainments. dinner giving is so thoroughly understood to rest upon the principle of an equivalent, that those who do not give dinners hardly come within the category of diners out. this rule, however, is open to many exceptions in favour of privileged individuals, popular and prominent members of society whose presence at dinner parties is appreciated and welcomed in most circles. dinner-parties are of more frequent occurrence, and are of more social significance, than any other form of entertainment. * * * * * =dinner invitations.=--an invitation to dinner conveys a greater mark of esteem, or friendship and cordiality, towards the guest invited, than is conveyed by an invitation to any other social gathering, it being the highest compliment, socially speaking, that is offered by one person to another. it is also a civility that can be readily interchanged, which in itself gives it an advantage over all other civilities. the orthodox dinner giver must necessarily possess a certain amount of wealth, and wealth and wit do not always go hand in hand. oftener than not, the former rather overweights the latter; hence, the introduction of a lighter element in the form of amusing people whose _métier_ in life it is to be amusing and to appear amused. dinner giving is in itself not only a test of the position occupied in society by the dinner giver, but it is also a direct road to obtaining a recognized place in society. a means of enlarging a limited acquaintance and a reputation for giving good dinners is in itself a passport to fashionable society. dinner giving, in the fullest sense of the word, is a science not easily acquired, so much depending on the talent which the host or hostess may possess for organizing dinner-parties. when a large dinner-party is contemplated, it is usual to give three weeks' notice, but of late this notice has been extended to four, five, and even six weeks. diners out are rather inclined to rebel against this innovation, considering that an invitation bearing the date of a month hence pledges them to remain in town, and as it were controls their movements, for the acceptance of an invitation is in the eyes of diners out a binding obligation; only ill-health, family bereavement, or some all-important reason justifies its being set on one side or otherwise evaded. those inconsiderate enough to make trivial excuses at the last moment are not often retained on the dinner-list of a host or hostess. dinner invitations are issued in the joint names of host and hostess. the master of the house occupies a prominent position amongst his guests, when dispensing hospitality as a "dinner giver." from five to ten days' notice is considered sufficient for invitations to small and unceremonious dinner-parties. printed cards are in general use in town for issuing dinner invitations, and can be purchased from any stationer; these cards only require to be filled in with the names of host and hostess and guests, date, hour, and address. the united names of the host and hostess should be written in the space left for that purpose. thus, "mr. and mrs. a.," and the name or names of the guests in the next vacant space. when invitations are issued for small dinner-parties, it is more usual to write notes than to make use of printed cards. acceptances or refusals of dinner invitations should be sent with as little delay as possible after the invitations have been received. it is a want of courtesy on the part of a person invited not to do so, as a hostess is otherwise left in doubt as to whether the person invited intends dining with her or not, and is consequently unable to fill up the vacant place with an eligible substitute; thus rendering her dinner-party an ill-assorted one. an answer to an invitation cannot be solicited in a subsequent note; it is therefore incumbent upon the invited person to dispatch an answer within a day or two at least. dinner invitations are either sent by post or by a servant, and the answers are also conveyed in a like manner. dinner invitations are invariably sent out by the hostess. it is not usual in town to invite more than three members of one family; it is now the custom to ask young ladies with their parents to dinner-parties. * * * * * =receiving dinner-guests.=--the guests should arrive within fifteen minutes of the hour named on the invitation card. on no occasion is punctuality more imperative than in the case of dining out; formerly many allowed themselves great latitude in this respect, and a long wait for the tardy guests was the result. a host and hostess frequently waited over half an hour for expected guests. but now punctuality has become the rule in the highest circles, and dinner is served within twenty minutes of the arrival of the first guest. in general, people much given to dining out make a point of arriving in good time; but there are many in society who presume upon their position, and are proverbially unpunctual, knowing that in the height of the season a hostess would wait half an hour rather than sit down to dinner without them; but this want of consideration soon becomes known in their different sets, and is always taken into account when "their company is requested at dinner." in france, it is not the rule, or the custom, to wait dinner for late arrivals, and the dinner is served punctually to the hour named in the invitation. the dinner-hour varies from eight to nine, although perhaps . is the most usual hour. in the country it ranges from . to . . punctuality on the part of the guests enables the hostess to make any introductions she may consider advisable before dinner is served. the host and hostess should be in readiness to receive their guests in the drawing-room at the hour specified on the card. on arrival, a lady should take off her cloak in the cloak-room, or should leave it in the hall with the servant in attendance, before entering the drawing-room. a gentleman should leave his overcoat and hat in the gentlemen's cloak-room, or in the hall. at large dinner-parties, the butler is stationed on the staircase, and announces the guests as they arrive. at small dinner-parties, or where only one man-servant is kept, the servant precedes the guest or guests on their arrival, to the drawing-room. the guests should then give their names to the servant, that he may announce them. a lady and gentleman, on being announced, should not enter the drawing-room arm-in-arm or side by side. the lady or ladies, if more than one, should enter the room in advance of the gentleman, although the servant announces "mr., mrs., and miss a." the host and hostess should come forward and shake hands with each guest on arrival. the ladies should at once seat themselves, but gentlemen either stand about the room and talk to each other, or sit down after a wait of some minutes. when a lady is acquainted with many of the guests present, she should not make her way at once to shake hands with all, but should make an opportunity to do so in an unobtrusive manner; it would be sufficient to recognise them by a nod or a smile in the mean time. a lady should bow to any gentleman she knows, and he should cross the room to shake hands with her at once if disengaged. at a small dinner-party, where the guests are unacquainted, the hostess should introduce the persons of highest rank to each other; but at a large dinner-party, she would not do so, unless she had some especial reason for making the introduction. in the country, introductions at dinner-parties are far oftener made than in town. precedency is strictly observed at all dinner-parties. (see chapter v.) * * * * * =sending guests in to dinner.=--the host should take the lady of highest rank present in to dinner, and the gentleman of highest rank should take the hostess. this rule is absolute, unless the lady or gentleman of highest rank is related to the host or hostess, in which case his or her rank would be in abeyance, out of courtesy to the other guests. a husband and wife, or a father and daughter, or a mother and son, should not be sent in to dinner together. a host and hostess should, if possible, invite an equal number of ladies and gentlemen. it is usual to invite two or more gentlemen than there are ladies, in order that the married ladies should not be obliged to go in to dinner with each other's husbands only. thus, mrs. a. and mr. b., mr. b. and mrs. a., mrs. b. should be taken in to dinner by mr. c., and mr. a. should take mrs. g., and so on. when ladies are in a majority at a dinner-party to the extent of two or three, the ladies of highest rank should be taken in to dinner by the gentlemen present, and the remaining ladies should follow by themselves; but such an arrangement is unusual and undesirable, though sometimes unavoidable when the dinner-party is an impromptu one, for instance, and the notice given has been but a short one. if there should be one gentleman short of the number required, the hostess frequently goes in to dinner by herself, following in the wake of the last couple. the usual mode of sending guests in to dinner is for the host or hostess to inform each gentleman, shortly after his arrival, which of the ladies he is to take in to dinner. no "choice" is given to any gentleman as to which of the ladies he would prefer taking in to dinner, it being simply a question of precedency. should any difficulty arise as to the order in which the guests should follow the host to the dining-room, the hostess, knowing the precedency due to each of her guests, should indicate to each gentleman when it is his turn to descend to the dining-room. he should then offer his arm to the lady whom the host had previously desired him to take in to dinner. dinner is announced by the butler or man-servant. when the guests have arrived, or when the host desires dinner to be served, he should ring or inform the servant accordingly. on dinner being announced, the host should give his right arm to the lady of highest rank present, and, with her, lead the way to the dining-room, followed by the lady second in rank, with a gentleman second in rank and so on. the gentleman of highest rank present should follow last with the hostess. when the second couple are about to leave the drawing-room, the hostess frequently requests each gentleman in turn to follow with a lady according to the precedency due to each. thus, "mr. a., will you take mrs. b.?" this also answers the purpose of an introduction, should the couple be unacquainted with each other, and the hostess has not found an opportunity of introducing them to each other on their arrival. when a case of precedency occurs, in which either the lady or gentleman must waive their right of precedence, that of the gentleman gives way to that of the lady. (see chapter v.) a gentleman should offer his right arm to a lady on leaving the drawing-room. ladies and gentlemen should not proceed to the dining-room in silence, but should at once enter into conversation with each other. (see the work entitled "the art of conversing.") on entering the dining-room the lady whom the host has taken in to dinner should seat herself at his right hand. on the continent this custom is reversed, and it is etiquette for the lady to sit at the left hand of the gentleman by whom she is taken in to dinner. the host should remain standing in his place, at the bottom of the table, until the guests have taken their seats, and should motion the various couples as they enter the dining-room to the places he wishes them to occupy at the table. this is the most usual method of placing the guests at the dinner-table. when the host does not indicate where they are to sit, they sit near to the host or hostess according to precedency. the host and hostess should arrange beforehand the places they wish their guests to occupy at the dinner-table. if a host did not indicate to the guests the various places he wished them to occupy, the result would probably be that husbands and wives would be seated side by side, or uncongenial people would sit together. the custom of putting a card with the name of the guest on the table in the place allotted to each individual guest is frequently followed at large dinner-parties, and in some instances the name of each guest is printed on a menu and placed in front of each cover. the host and the lady taken in to dinner by him should sit at the bottom of the table. he should sit in the centre at the bottom of the table and place the lady whom he has taken down at his right hand. the same rule applies to the hostess. she should sit in the centre at the top of the table, the gentleman by whom she has been taken in to dinner being placed at her left hand. the lady second in rank should sit at the host's left hand. each lady should sit at the right hand of the gentleman by whom she is taken in to dinner. it is solely a matter of inclination whether a lady and gentleman, who have gone in to dinner together, converse with each other only, or with their right-and left-hand neighbours also, but they usually find some topic of conversation in common, otherwise a dinner-party would prove but a succession of _tête-à-tête_. * * * * * =the menus= are placed the length of the table, on an average one to two persons or occasionally one to each person, and the menu cards are elaborate or simple, according to individual taste, and are purchased printed for the purpose, having a space for the names of the dishes to be filled in, which is usually done by the mistress of the house, unless the establishment is on a large scale, it being usual to write them out in french. fanciful menu holders are much in use. the use of menus would be pretentious at a small dinner-party when there is but little choice of dishes; but when there is a choice of dishes a menu is indispensable. * * * * * =the usual and fashionable mode of serving dinner= is called _dîner à la russe_, although at small or friendly dinners the host sometimes prefers to carve the joint himself in the first course, and the birds in the second course. but dinner-tables, whether for dining _à la russe_, or for dining _en famille_, are invariably arranged in the same style, the difference being merely the extent of the display made as regards flowers, plate and glass, which are the accessories of the dining-table. when the host helps the soup, a small ladleful for each person is the proper quantity; a soup-plate should not be filled with soup. when the party is a small one, and the joints or birds are carved by the host, the portions should be handed to the guests in the order in which they are seated, although occasionally the ladies are helped before the gentlemen. the rule at all dinner-parties is for the servant to commence serving by handing the dishes to the lady seated at the host's right hand, then to the lady seated at the host's left hand, and from thence the length of the table to each guest in the order seated, irrespective of sex. double _entrées_ should be provided at large dinner-parties, and the servants should commence handing the dishes at both sides of the table simultaneously. _dîner à la russe_ is the russian fashion introduced into society many years ago. the whole of the dinner is served from a side-table, no dishes whatever being placed on the table save dishes of fruit. * * * * * =dinner-table decorations.=--as regards the most correct style of dinner-table decorations, they offer great diversity of arrangement. high centre pieces and low centre pieces. low specimen glasses placed the length of the table and trails of creepers and flowers laid on the table-cloth itself are some of the prevailing features of the day, but table decorations are essentially a matter of taste rather than of etiquette, and the extent of these decorations depends very much upon the size of the plate chest and the length of the purse of the dinner giver. the fruit for dessert is usually arranged down the centre of the table, amidst the flowers and plate. some dinner-tables are also adorned with a variety of french conceits besides fruit and flowers; other dinner-tables are decorated with flowers and plate only, the dessert not being placed on the table at all; but this latter mode can only be adopted by those who can make a lavish display of flowers and plate in the place of fruit. as regards lighting the dinner table. electric light is now in general use in town, and more or less in the country when possible. when not available, lamps and wax candles are used as heretofore. the shades in use should be carefully chosen as they add greatly to the comfort of the guests and to the success of the lighting. silver candlesticks are often fitted with small electric lamps, and handsome silver lamps are brought into use in a similar manner for the dinner table. the term "cover" signifies the place laid at table for each person. it consists of a table-spoon for soup, fish knife and fork, two knives, two large forks, and glasses for wines given. for such arrangements see chapter "waiting at dinner" in the work entitled "waiting at table." sherry is always drunk after soup, hock with the fish after the soup. champagne is drunk immediately after the first _entrée_ has been served, and during the remainder of dinner until dessert. claret, sherry, port, and madeira are the wines drunk at dessert, and not champagne, as it is essentially a dinner wine. when liqueurs are given they are handed after the ices. * * * * * =dinner-table etiquette.=--soup should be eaten with a table-spoon and not with a dessert-spoon, it would be out of place to use a dessert-spoon for that purpose. dessert-spoons, as their name implies, are intended for other purposes, such as for eating fruit-tarts, custard-puddings, etc., or any sweet that is not sufficiently substantial to be eaten with a fork. fish should be eaten with a silver fork when possible, otherwise with a silver fish knife and fork. all made dishes, such as _quenelles_, _rissoles_, patties, etc., should be eaten with a fork only, and not with a knife and fork. for sweetbreads and cutlets, etc., a knife and fork are requisite; and, as a matter of course, for poultry, game, etc. in eating asparagus, a knife and fork should be used, and the points should be cut off and eaten with a fork as is seakale, etc. salad should be eaten with a knife and fork; it is served on salad plates, which are placed beside the dinner-plates. cucumber is eaten off the dinner-plate, and not off a separate plate. peas should be eaten with a fork. in eating game or poultry, the bone of either wing or leg should not be touched with the fingers, but the meat cut close off the bone; and if a wing it is best to sever it at the joint, by which means the meat is cut off far more easily. pastry should be eaten with a fork, but in the case of a fruit tart, a dessert-spoon should be used as well as a fork, but only for the purpose of conveying the fruit and juice to the mouth; and in the case of stone fruit--cherries, damsons, plums, etc.--either the dessert-spoon or fork should be raised to the lips to receive the stones, which should be placed at the side of the plate; but when the fruit stones are of larger size, they should be separated from the fruit with the fork and spoon, and left on the plate, and not put into the mouth; and whenever it is possible to separate the stones from the fruit it is best to do so. jellies, blancmanges, ice puddings, etc., should be eaten with a fork, as should be all sweets sufficiently substantial to admit of it. when eating cheese, small morsels of the cheese should be placed with the knife on small morsels of bread, and the two conveyed to the mouth with the thumb and finger, the piece of bread being the morsel to hold, as cheese should not be taken up in the fingers, and should not be eaten off the point of the knife.[ ] the finger-glass should be removed from the ice-plate and placed on the left-hand side of the dessert-plate. when ices are not given, the d'oyley should be removed with the finger-glass and placed beneath it. when eating grapes, the half-closed hand should be placed to the mouth, and the stones and skins allowed to fall into the fingers, and placed on the side of the plate. some persons bend the head so as to allow of the stones and skins of the grapes falling on the side of the plate; but this latter way is old-fashioned, and seldom followed. cherries and other small stone-fruit should be eaten in the way grapes are eaten, also gooseberries. when strawberries and raspberries, etc., are not eaten with cream, they should be eaten from the stalks; when eaten with cream, a dessert-spoon should be used to remove them from the stalks. when served in the american fashion without stalks, both fork and spoon should be used. pears and apples should be peeled and cut into halves and quarters with a fruit-knife and fork, as should peaches, nectarines, and apricots. melons should be eaten with a spoon and fork. pines with knife and fork. the dessert is handed to the guests in the order in which the dinner has been served.[ ] when the guests have been helped to wine, and the servants have left the dining-room, the host should pass the decanters to his guests, commencing with the gentleman nearest to him. it is not the fashion for gentlemen to drink wine with each other either at dinner or dessert, and the guest fills his glass or not, according to inclination. ladies are not supposed to require a second glass of wine at dessert, and passing the decanters is principally for the gentlemen. if a lady should require a second glass of wine at dessert, the gentleman seated next to her would fill her glass; she should not help herself to wine. after the wine has been passed once around the table, or about ten minutes after the servants have left the dining-room, the hostess should give the signal for the ladies to leave the dining-room, by bowing to the lady of highest rank present, seated at the host's right hand. she should then rise from her seat, as should all the ladies on seeing her do so. the gentlemen should rise also, and remain standing by their chairs until the ladies have quitted the room, which they should do in the order in which they have entered it, the lady of highest rank leading the way, the hostess following last. the host, or the gentleman nearest the door, should open it for the ladies to pass out, and close it after them. when the ladies have left the dining-room, the gentlemen should close up as near to the host as possible, so as to render conversation general. the wines usually drunk by gentlemen after dinner are claret of a fine quality, and port. the ladies on leaving the dining-room return to the drawing-room. coffee should be almost immediately brought to the drawing-room. the coffee-cups containing coffee should be brought on a silver salver, with a cream-jug and a basin of crystallised sugar. in large country houses coffee is sometimes brought in a silver coffee-pot, and the lady would then pour out her own coffee, the servant holding the salver the meanwhile. coffee should be taken a few minutes later to the dining-room, and either handed to the gentlemen, or placed on the table, that they may help themselves (see the work previously referred to). a very general plan is, after the wine has gone round once or twice, for the host to offer cigarettes, which are smoked before the gentlemen join the ladies in the drawing-room. after coffee, the gentleman of highest rank should leave the dining-room first. the host would not propose an adjournment to the drawing-room, until he observed a wish to do so on the part of his guests, but there is no hard and fast rule on this head. it is not now the fashion for gentlemen to sit over their wine beyond fifteen or twenty minutes at the utmost, instead of as formerly, from three-quarters of an hour to an hour, a change much appreciated by hostesses. on the continent the gentlemen accompany the ladies to the drawing-room, and do not remain in the dining-room as in england. the gentleman of highest rank present could suggest an adjournment to the drawing-room within a quarter of an hour if he thought proper to do so. if the other guests were engaged in a discussion in which he did not wish to take part, having suggested the adjournment, he could leave the dining-room to join the ladies in the drawing-room; but as a rule, the gentlemen leave the dining-room together, the host following last. the host should ring the dining-room bell before leaving the room, as an intimation to the butler that the gentlemen have left the room. at ceremonious dinner-parties in town neither music nor cards are introduced during the usual half-hour passed in the drawing-room before the hour for departure. at country-house dinner-parties music or round games of cards are in request. * * * * * =departure after dinner.=--there is no rule as to the order in which the guests should take their leave. half-past ten is the usual hour for general departure; and the butler announces the several carriages as they arrive to the guests in the drawing-room. but if any lady wished to inquire if her carriage had arrived, she should ask the hostess's permission to do so; and the bell would be rung for the purpose of making the enquiry. the same remark applies to ordering a cab: the lady should ask the hostess if one might be ordered for her. the hostess should shake hands with all her guests on their departure, rising from her seat to do so. each guest on departure should shake hands with both host and hostess. if, on leaving the room, acquaintances should pass each other, they should wish each other good-night, but they should not make the tour of the rooms for the purpose of so doing. the host should conduct one or two of the principal of his lady guests to their carriages. the ladies should put on their cloaks in the cloak-room, the host waiting in the hall meanwhile. a gentleman related to the host or hostess, or a friend of the family, could offer to conduct a lady to her carriage if the host were otherwise engaged. * * * * * =gratuities= should never be offered by the guests at a dinner-party to the servants in attendance. gentlemen should not offer fees to the men-servants, neither should ladies to the lady's-maid in attendance. the guests should call on the hostess within a week or ten days after a dinner-party. if "not at home," a married lady should leave one of her own cards and two of her husband's; a widow should leave one of her own cards; a bachelor or a widower should leave two cards. the rule as to calling after dinner-parties is greatly relaxed between intimate friends, and the call often omitted altogether; and this more particularly as regards gentlemen, whose occupations during the day are considered good and sufficient reasons for not calling. * * * * * =country dinner-parties.=--in the country, new acquaintances, if neighbours, should be asked to dinner within a month of the first call if possible, and the return invitation should be given within the following month. when guests are assembled at a country house, they are sent in to dinner, on the first evening, according to their individual precedence; but on subsequent evenings the gentlemen frequently draw lots to decide which lady they shall have the pleasure of taking in to dinner, otherwise a lady and gentleman would go in to dinner together five or six consecutive times, according to the length of the visit, but this is more a practice with people who march with the times, than with what are termed "old-fashioned people." when a party is varied by additional dinner-guests each evening, drawing lots gives way to precedency, it being too familiar a practice to be adopted at a large dinner-party. * * * * * =saying grace=, both before and after 'dinner,' is a matter of feeling rather than of etiquette. it used to be very much the custom to say "grace," but of late years it is oftener omitted than not, especially at large dinner-parties in town. in the country, when a clergyman is present, he should be asked to say grace. when grace is said by the host, it is said in a low voice, and in a very few words; the guests inclining their heads the while. it was no rapid revolutionary change in manners that brought about the difference that now exists between the elizabethan and present eras; no polished mentor came forward to teach that it was not the nicest and cleanest to do, to put knives into the salt, to dip fingers into plates, or to spread butter with the thumb; on the contrary, these things righted themselves little by little, step by step, until the present code of manners was arrived at. but it is quite possible that a hundred years hence it will be discovered that the manners of the present century offered wide scope for improvement. in the meantime these rules of etiquette observed in society are adhered to and followed by those who do not wish to appear singular, eccentric, old-fashioned, unconventional, or any other adjective that the temper of their judges may induce them to apply to them for committing solecisms, either small or great. * * * * * =married ladies, as a rule, dine out with their husbands=, and do not accept invitations to large dinners when their husbands are unable to accompany them. there are, of course, exceptions to this rule, and circumstances sometimes arise when it is greatly relaxed; but even in this case it would be in favour of small and friendly dinners rather than large ones. during any temporary absence of her husband, a lady would accept invitations to dine with her relatives and intimate friends, though she might refuse invitations to large dinners given by acquaintances; but, as a rule, when it is well known that the head of a house is away for any length of time, invitations are seldom sent to the wife by givers of large dinners. when young ladies are invited to dinner they accompany their father, mother or brother; but occasionally, when a young ladies' party is given by a friend of their parents', the young ladies are invited alone, and they should either go with their maid in a cab or by themselves in their father's carriage. footnotes: [ ] respecting the arrangement of the dinner table for dessert, see the work entitled "waiting at table." [ ] see the work entitled "waiting at table." chapter xiv dinner-table etiquette fashion has its freaks and its vagaries, and in relation to inanimate objects these freaks and vagaries are but transitory and evanescent, but when they touch upon manners and modes they become a conventionality and a custom perhaps for many a year. changes and innovations, slight as they are, are more subtle than sudden, and, paradoxical as it may seem, they are as important as they are insignificant; still it is difficult to believe that fingers once did duty for forks, and that it was not customary for a host to supply his guests with forks, who, if fastidious enough to require them, were expected to bring them in their pockets. there are here and there people in society who affect a few eccentricities of manner, but these whims at all times take the form of originalities and not of vulgarities; and even then are only indulged in by those whose position in society is secure. * * * * * =as regards dinner-table etiquette.=--when a lady has taken her seat at the dinner-table, she should at once remove her gloves; although occasionally long elbow gloves are not removed during dinner, but this is conspicuous and inconvenient. she should unfold her serviette and place it on her lap. it is immaterial whether she places the bread on the right or left-hand side of the cover when taking it from the serviette. a gentleman should do the same with his serviette and bread, placing the one across his knees, and the other at his right or left hand. when a lady is some little time taking off her gloves, she should remove her serviette before doing so: otherwise a servant would offer her soup before she had made room for the soup-plate by removing the serviette, and she should decide quickly as to which of the two soups handed to her she will take, so as not to keep the servant waiting; and so on through every course throughout the dinner as regards fish, meat, etc. * * * * * =the guests should consult the menu= on first sitting down to dinner. eating soup comes first under notice. in olden days it was customary to drink it out of a basin. in these days no one "drinks" soup, it is "eaten"; whether it be mock turtle or the clearest julienne, it is eaten out of a soup-plate at dinner, and with a table-spoon. there is a reason for this choice of spoons; soup is nothing if it is not hot, and as it is the custom to give only about half a ladleful to each person, it is eaten quicker, and therefore hotter, with a large spoon than with a small one. there is also a good and sufficient reason for small quantities of soup being given in lieu of large ones, viz. the extent of the menu; and when a plateful of soup is handed to a guest accustomed to the regulation supply, he fears that he is expected to dine off it, and that there is nothing much to follow. again, small helpings require a smaller quantity of soup to be provided, and a servant is less likely to spill plates containing a little soup than plates that are half full. at ball suppers, when soup is served in soup-plates, it is also eaten with a table-spoon, but not when served in small cups. many years ago it was fashionable to eat fish with a fork and a crust of bread; previous to this a table-knife and fork were considered the proper things to use for this purpose. it was then discovered that a steel knife gave an unpalatable flavour to the fish, and a crust of bread was substituted for the knife. this fashion lasted a considerable time, in spite of the fingers being thus brought unpleasantly near to the plate, and to this day old-fashioned people have a predilection for that crust of bread. one evening a well-known diner-out discarded his crust of bread, and ate his fish with two silver forks; this notion found such general favour that society dropped the humble crust and took up a second fork. this fashion had its little day, but at length the two forks were found heavy for the purpose and not altogether satisfactory, and were superseded by the dainty and convenient little silver fish-knife and fork which are now in general use. small pieces of fish should always be given, and two different sorts of fish should not be placed on the same plate. * * * * * =when oysters are given= they precede the soup, and should be eaten with a dinner-fork, not with a fish-fork. in eating oysters the shell should be steadied on the plate with the fingers of the left hand, the oysters should not be cut, but should be eaten whole. very many ladies do not eat oysters at dinner simply because they do not like them, while others refuse them under the impression that it is more ladylike not to eat them. perhaps with regard to young ladies it is a taste to be acquired. some men are very, if not over, fastidious, about the appetites displayed by ladies, and would have them reject the _entrées_ and dine upon a slice of chicken and a spoonful of jelly. others, on the contrary, respect a good appetite as giving proof of good health and good digestion. there is of course a medium in all things, and as large dinners are ordered mainly with a view to please the palates of men with epicurean tastes, it is not expected that ladies should eat of the most highly seasoned and richest of the dishes given, but should rather select the plainest on the menu. this remark more particularly applies to young ladies and young married ladies, whilst middle-aged and elderly ladies are at liberty to do pretty much as they please, without provoking comment or even observation. * * * * * =with reference to entrées=, some are eaten with a knife and fork, others with a fork only. all _entrées_ that offer any resistance to a fork require the aid of both knife and fork, such as cutlets, _filet de boeuf_, sweetbreads, etc., but when rissoles, patties, quenelles, boneless curry, _vol-au-vents_, timbales, etc., are eaten, the fork only should be used. in the case of the lighter _entrées_, the contact of the knife is supposed to militate against their delicate flavour; thus, for these _bonnes bouches_ the fork is all-sufficient wherewith to divide and eat them. the leg of a chicken, pheasant, duck, or wild duck should never be given to a guest save on those occasions when there are more guests present than there is meat from breasts and wings to offer them. under these circumstances the carver is reduced to the necessity of falling back upon the legs of the birds, but in this case only the upper part of the thigh should be given, thus a guest has little difficulty in cutting the meat from the bone. a wing of a bird is usually given to a lady. formerly it was thought a correct thing to sever the wing at the joint and then to cut the meat from the bone; but this requires a certain amount of strength in the wrist, and dexterity, should the bird not be in its _première jeunesse_. as regards small pigeons, golden plovers, snipe, quails, larks, etc., a whole bird is given to each guest, and the proper way to eat these birds is to cut the meat from the breast and wings and to eat each morsel at the moment of cutting it; the bird should not be turned over and over on the plate, or cut in half or otherwise dissected. the legs of bordeaux pigeons are not, as a rule, eaten, and half a bird only is given, as there is sufficient on the wing and breast to satisfy an ordinary second-course appetite. when the legs of smaller birds are eaten, such as snipe or golden plover, the meat should be cut off as from the breast or wing. young girls, as a rule, seldom eat a second course delicacy of this description; a little chicken or pheasant on the contrary is usually accepted by them. * * * * * =when large potatoes are served= in their skins a salad-plate should be handed at the same time whereon to place them. * * * * * =when asparagus first comes into season= it is often given in the second course instead of in the first, in which case it is eaten as a separate dish. when handed with meat or poultry it should be eaten on the same plate containing either. in eating asparagus, some elderly gentlemen still adhere to the fashion of their youth and hold the stalks in their fingers, but the younger generation cut off the points with a knife and fork. seakale also is given in the second course when first in season, and should be eaten with a knife and fork. mushrooms are also eaten with a knife and fork. it need hardly be said that it would be a vulgarity to eat peas with a knife, although those who reside abroad, or who are in the habit of travelling on the continent, are not unaccustomed to seeing this done by foreigners who are well-bred men. artichokes are, it may be said, an awkward and untidy vegetable to eat; they are only given in the second course as a separate vegetable; the outside leaves should be removed with the knife and fork, and the inner leaves which surround the heart, or head of the artichoke should be conveyed to the mouth with the fingers and sucked dry; epicures consider this vegetable a dainty morsel; but at dinner-parties young ladies should not attempt to eat these artichokes. savouries, when possible, should be eaten with a fork, but occasionally a knife also is of imperative use. * * * * * =as regards sweets=, _compôtes_ of fruit and fruit tarts should be eaten with a dessert-spoon and fork, as should those dishes where juice or syrup prevails to the extent of rendering a dessert-spoon necessary. but whenever it is possible to use a fork in preference to a spoon it is always better to do so. jellies, creams, blancmanges, ice puddings, etc., should be eaten with a fork. as a matter of course, young ladies do not eat cheese at dinner-parties. chapter xv evening parties =evening parties= are styled receptions or "at homes" according to the number of guests invited. in official and political circles they are invariably styled "receptions," but when given on a smaller scale in general society they are styled "at homes." * * * * * =invitations= to evening parties should be issued on "at home" cards. the name of the person invited should be written at the top of the card at the right-hand corner, the words "at home" being printed beneath the name of the lady issuing the invitation, the day and date beneath the words "at home," the hour beneath the date. the address should be printed at the bottom of the card. when music is to be given it should be mentioned on the "at home" card, thus, "music." the hour varies from to o'clock; in private circles or . is the usual hour; in official circles . or o'clock. when a foreign royal personage is expected, or a foreigner of distinction, or a personage possessing public interest, the words "to meet her serene highness princess d.," or "to meet count c." should be written at the top of the invitation cards. when a reception or "at home" follows a dinner-party given by the hostess, it is not usual to provide any special amusement for the guests. but when an "at home" does not follow a dinner-party, it is usual to provide some sort of amusement for the guests, such as professional vocal or instrumental music. the guests are expected to arrive from half an hour to an hour of the time mentioned on the invitation card, although it is optional when they do so. * * * * * =receiving the guests.=--the hostess should receive her guests at the head of the staircase, where she usually remains until the principal of her guests have arrived; while the host welcomes the guests in the drawing-room itself. receptions or "at homes" usually terminate shortly before one o'clock, save on saturdays, when the hour of departure is o'clock precisely. * * * * * =making introductions.=--a hostess should use her own discretion as regards making introductions. when a royal personage is present the most distinguished of the guests should be presented by the host or hostess. when a celebrity is present introductions should also be made; and as regards general introductions they should be made whenever the hostess judges it expedient to do so, and the principal guests when unacquainted should be introduced to each other when the opportunity occurs. * * * * * =going in to supper.=--the host should take the lady of highest rank in to supper. when a royal princess is present the host should take her in to supper. when a royal prince is present he should take the hostess in to supper. (see chapter v.) it is optional whether the hostess follows with the gentleman of highest rank present, unless a foreign prince is present, when she should follow the host, and in the case of a royal prince being present she should precede the host. when a royal prince or princess or a serene highness is present a table should be set apart for the host and hostess and royal party, and any among the guests whom the royal visitors may desire should join them at supper. when the supper-room is not sufficiently large to accommodate the whole of the guests at the same time, the most distinguished guests should go in first. when the host is informed that supper is served he should tell the principal gentlemen present which of the ladies he wishes them to take into supper, and should himself lead the way with the lady of highest rank present. the hostess should also assist in sending the principal guests in to supper, and when the general company observe the move towards the supper-room, they should follow in the same direction. when the general company are apparently not aware that the supper-room is open, the hostess should ask the various gentlemen to take the ladies in to supper, and should herself lead the way with one of the gentlemen. when the general company find the supper-room crowded they should return to the drawing-room for a quarter of an hour or so; but the hostess should arrange for some instrumental or vocal performance to commence when supper is first served, so as to occupy the attention of the guests who remain in the drawing-room. the guests frequently do not return to the drawing-room after supper, but go to the cloak-room for their cloaks and wraps, and thence to their carriages. it is not usual to take leave of the host and hostess at receptions. * * * * * =royal guests present.=--when a royal personage is present the host should conduct her to her carriage. when a foreign prince is present the host should accompany him to the hall door. * * * * * =tea and light refreshments= should be served during the evening in the library, or in an adjacent apartment. supper should be served at twelve o'clock, in the dining-room, and should be similar in character to a ball supper. * * * * * =invitations to bridge parties= are issued on "at home" cards when the guests number upwards of forty, and on visiting cards when a lesser number is invited. * * * * * =the invitation form= is, "mrs. a---- at home" in both instances. the day, date, and hour are put beneath the words "at home," and "bridge" in the corner of the cards opposite the address. the usual hour for holding these evening receptions is o'clock p.m., which allows of three hours' play before midnight. the guests arrive very punctually, rather before than after the hour named on the invitation cards. the guests comprise an equal number of both sexes, as husbands and wives are invited together when both are known to be bridge players, and bachelors who do not disdain playing for small stakes are in great request. also unmarried ladies of a certain age; not girls in their teens. prizes are given in some houses to the conquering players. one for the ladies and one for the gentlemen, and occasionally a second prize for the second best player of either sex. this is done when playing for money does not commend itself to a host and hostess. the prizes consist for the most part of useful articles. for instance, a box of gloves, a box of bon-bons, a case of eau d'cologne, a card-case, a bag purse, and so on, all of which are acceptable to ladies; and a box of cigars or cigarettes, a silver pocket-flask, a silver-mounted stick or umbrella, are prizes the men winners are pleased to accept. * * * * * =the bridge tables= at which the guests are to sit are numbered, and the hostess arranges by whom they are to be occupied. the names--four in number for each table--are written or printed with the number of the table upon small cards and given to the guests by the hostess on arrival. this is done that good players may be placed together, and to save confusion and loss of time in seating them at the various tables. * * * * * =the refreshments= provided consist in the first instance of "coffee," which is brought into the card-room or drawing-room and handed to the guests. no eatables are given with this after-dinner coffee. a supper is given either at the conclusion of the play at o'clock--this being the more usual plan--or at . , after which play is resumed for another hour or so; but the latter is more of a provincial custom than a town one, and is intended for those whose dinner hour is an early one-- . , perhaps. when a supper is not given, very good light refreshments are substituted for it, including cups of hot soup in the winter months. * * * * * =going in to supper= is arranged as far as possible on the following lines, if precedence does not prevent its being carried out. the players at each table who are partners when supper is served go in together. the host leads the way with his partner, and all follow, the hostess and her partner going last. * * * * * =cards should be left= within a week or ten days after a reception. a married lady should leave one of her own and two of her husband's cards. a widow should leave one of her own cards. a bachelor or widower should leave two of his cards. (see chapter iii.) chapter xvi weddings and wedding luncheons =afternoon weddings= are invariably solemnized at . o'clock. only very quiet weddings take place in the morning hours. formerly, it was only the few who were in a position to obtain special licences who could have afternoon weddings. * * * * * =marriage by "banns"= is greatly in favour in general society. the banns must be published three consecutive weeks previous to the marriage in the parish in which the bridegroom resides, and also in that in which the bride resides, and both should reside fifteen days in their respective parishes previous to the banns being published. * * * * * =marriages by licence.=--when a marriage is solemnised by licence the cost, with fees and stamps, amounts to £ . this should be obtained at the faculty office, or at the vicar-general's office, doctors' commons, and is available at any church in the parish where one of the parties has resided for fifteen days previous to the application being made for the licence, either in town or country. when the licence is obtained in the country through a clerical surrogate the cost varies, according to the diocese, from £ s. to £ s. d. * * * * * =special licences= can only be obtained from the archbishop of canterbury, after application at the faculty office, and an especial reason must be given for the application, and one that will meet with the archbishop's approval. the fees for a special marriage licence average £ s. d. * * * * * =the fees= to the officiating clergymen vary considerably, according to the position and means of the bridegroom, from £ s. to £ s. as the inclination of the bridegroom may dictate. the fee to the verger is subject to a like variation, commencing at s. d. all fees relating to a marriage should be defrayed by the bridegroom, and paid by him, or by the best man on his behalf, in the vestry of the church, previous to the ceremony; immediately after it, or some days earlier. * * * * * =the etiquette observed at weddings= is invariably the same whether the wedding takes place in the morning or in the afternoon, or whether it is a grand wedding or a comparatively small one, whether the guests number two hundred or whether they number twenty. * * * * * =the invitations= should be issued from three weeks to a fortnight before the wedding-day. the wedding luncheon or wedding reception should be given by the parents of the bride or by her nearest relative, and the invitations should be issued in the names of both parents. the invitations should be issued in notes printed in ink; they are now seldom printed in silver. the form should be as follows: "mr. and mrs. ---- request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. ----'s company at the marriage of their daughter helen with mr. john s----, at st. peter's church, hanover square, on tuesday, may th, at . o'clock, and afterwards at ---- square. r.s.v.p." if a stepdaughter, it should be "at the marriage of mrs. a----'s daughter helen b----." * * * * * =wedding presents.=--every one who is invited to a wedding invariably makes the bride or bridegroom a present; it is the received rule to do so. many send presents before the invitations are sent out--as soon as the engagement is made known, if it is not to be a long one. there is no rule as to the time before the wedding-day when the present should be sent; but invitations are usually sent to those who have given presents, even though they live at a considerable distance, and may not be able to attend the wedding. wedding presents are displayed on tables of various sizes, according to their number, and if very numerous and valuable, it is not unusual to exhibit them at an afternoon tea, given for the purpose on the day previous to the wedding. each present should bear the card of the giver attached to it. presents of silver plate should be placed on a table covered with dark cloth or velvet. it is not unusual to surround the presents with flowers, notably roses, and this is often done by persons of artistic tastes. * * * * * =the bridegroom should provide= the wedding-ring and the bridal bouquet. the bouquets for the bridesmaids are also the gift of the bridegroom, and should be sent to them on the morning of the wedding. he is also expected to make a present to each bridesmaid--either a brooch, a locket, a bracelet, or a fan, which should either be sent the day before the wedding or on the morning of the wedding-day. the bridegroom should provide the motor-car to convey himself and his bride from the church to the house where the wedding luncheon and reception are to take place, and again from the house to the railway-station, or, if the journey is made by road, to the place of honeymoon; but frequently the bride's father places his own motor-car at the disposal of the bride and bridegroom for this purpose, especially in the country. the bridal carriage is the only one, according to etiquette, which the bridegroom is expected to provide. the invited guests should provide their own conveyances, and neither the bridegroom nor the bride's father are ever expected to do so. this should be thoroughly understood by the guests in every case. the custom of having groomsmen to support the bridegroom is now very general, as at royal weddings, a royal bridegroom being supported by from four to six groomsmen. two of the groomsmen usually act as ushers and assist in seating the guests. * * * * * =the best man= should be a bachelor, although a married man could act in this capacity. he should either accompany the bridegroom to the church or meet him there. he should stand at his right hand during the ceremony--a little in the rear--and should render him the trifling service of handing him his hat at the close of it. he should sign the register afterwards in the vestry, and should pay the fees to the clergyman and to the verger, on behalf of the bridegroom, either before or after the ceremony, if the bridegroom does not pay them on arrival. the bridegroom and best man should arrive at the church before the bride, and await her coming, standing at the right-hand side of the chancel gates. * * * * * =the bride= should be driven to the church in her father's motor-car. if she has a sister or sisters, and they officiate as bridesmaids, they, with her mother, should precede her to the church. the motor-car should then return to fetch the bride and her father; but when she has no sisters, her father generally precedes her to the church, and receives her at the church door, her mother accompanying her in the motor-car. the bridesmaids should arrive some little time before the bride, and form a line on either side of the church porch, or within the church doorway. the mother of the bride usually stands beside them. when the bride arrives she should take her father's right arm, or the right arm of her eldest brother or nearest male relative, who is deputed to give her away; he should meet her at the church door in the place of her father, and conduct her to the chancel or altar. at choral weddings the clergy and choir head the bridal procession and lead the way to the chancel, singing a hymn the while. * * * * * =the bridesmaids= should follow the bride and her father up the nave of the church. when the number of bridesmaids is even, four, six, eight, or twelve; but when the number is odd, as five, seven, or nine, and three of them happen to be children, which is generally the case, the elder bridesmaids should walk "two and two," following next after the children. at fashionable weddings one or two little boys act as pages, and occasionally bear the bride's train. the head bridesmaid is generally the bride's eldest unmarried sister or the bridegroom's sister, and she should follow next to the bride with her companion bridesmaid, when children are not included in the group. * * * * * =the bride's mother= should follow next to the bridesmaids, and walk by the side of her son, or other male relative, in following them up the nave of the church. ladies and gentlemen do not walk arm-in-arm at a wedding, but side by side. * * * * * =the bride's immediate relatives= and the near relatives of the bridegroom should seat themselves in pews or chairs, according to the church in which the service is celebrated. in some churches the service takes place at the entrance of the chancel, and the bridal party enter the chancel and stand at the altar to receive the address, and the concluding portion of the service only is there celebrated. * * * * * =the bridegroom's relatives= should place themselves on entering at the right of the nave, thus being on the bridegroom's right hand, and seat themselves in pews. the relatives of the bride should place themselves on entering at the left of the nave, thus being on the bride's left hand, and seat themselves in pews or chairs. large cards with the words "for the relatives of the bridegroom," "for the relatives of the bride," are frequently placed in the pews to indicate where they are to sit. * * * * * =the bride= should stand at the bridegroom's left hand; the bride's father, or nearest male relative, should stand at her left hand, in order to give her away. the bridesmaids should stand immediately behind the bride in the order in which they pass up the church. the bride should take off her gloves at the commencement of the service and should give them with her bouquet to the head bridesmaid to hold. the invited guests should sit in the pews or chairs. guests seldom take their prayer-books with them to the church to follow the service therefrom. the hymns sung are usually printed on leaflets, and placed in the pews or on the seats. the bridegroom generally wears a flower in his button-hole, as he does not wear a wedding favour. the other gentlemen may, as a matter of course, wear button-hole bouquets, if they please. * * * * * =when the service is concluded=, the bride should take the bridegroom's left arm, and, preceded by the officiating clergyman, and followed by her head bridesmaids, father, mother, and the most distinguished of the guests, should enter the vestry, where the register should be signed by the bride and bridegroom, two or three of the nearest relatives, and by two or three of the most intimate of the friends, and principal of the guests, including the best man and the head bridesmaid. the bride's father should sign it, but it is optional whether the bride's mother does so or not. when the register has been signed, and those in the vestry have shaken hands with the bride and offered their congratulations, the bride should take the bridegroom's left arm and pass down the nave of the church followed by her bridesmaids, in the same order as they have previously passed up the nave. the bride and bridegroom usually leave the church without pausing to shake hands with many of their friends present if a reception is to follow. when the bride and bridegroom have driven off from the church, the bride's mother should be the next to follow, that she may be at home to receive the guests as they arrive. there is no precedence as to the order in which the remainder of the company leave the church; it entirely depends on the cleverness of their servants in getting up their motor-cars. * * * * * =button-hole bouquets= of natural flowers have entirely superseded the old-fashioned wedding favours for both ladies and gentlemen, and are sometimes offered to the guests before they leave their seats at the conclusion of the ceremony, but not invariably so. button-hole bouquets should be worn on the left side, by both ladies and gentlemen. * * * * * =a bride who is a widow= should not wear a bridal veil, nor a wreath of orange-blossoms, nor orange-blossom on her dress. she should not be attended by bridesmaids, and wedding favours should not be worn by the guests. * * * * * =how the invitations to the wedding reception of a widow= should be issued depends upon individual circumstances. for instance, if a young widow resides with her parents, the invitations should be issued in their names as at her first marriage, and the form of invitation should be similar, save that the words "their daughter, mrs. a., widow of mr. a." should be substituted for her christian name. if, as is very frequently the case, a widow resides in her own house, or if the marriage is to take place from an hotel, the invitations should be issued in her own name, and the form should be "mrs. cecil a. requests the pleasure (or the honour) of mr. and mrs. b.'s company at her marriage with mr. henry c., at st. george's church on tuesday, december th, at . o'clock, and afterwards at eaton gardens, r.s.v.p." "the presence of" instead of "the company of" may be put if preferred. * * * * * =it is understood that a widow should not have bridesmaids=, but it is open to her to have the attendance of pages, if a wedding is to be a fashionable and smart one, although many ladies do not avail themselves of this privilege. the bridegroom should have a best man, as a matter of course; he may be the bride's brother if desired (the idea that this is not permitted is an erroneous one). a married man might be asked to act in the capacity of best man, there being no bridesmaids to require his attention, although this is seldom done, and a bachelor brother or friend is preferred. * * * * * =a widow may be given away= by her father, uncle, brother, or even by a friend; indeed, it is more usual to have this support than not. at a first marriage "to be given away" is imperative, at a second it is optional; and if a widow at a quiet wedding prefers not to follow this custom she can do so. * * * * * =much uncertainty exists as to whether a widow should or should not continue to wear her first wedding ring= when she marries a second time. in point of fact there is no hard and fast rule with regard to it, and a widow may continue or not continue to wear it, as she feels inclined. if she has children, and has had some years of married life, she usually retains it. if she is a young widow, she is likely to remove it, and wear the second ring only; but when this is her intention, she should not cease to wear it until she has arrived at the church, and has taken off her gloves previous to the ceremony; but, take it all in all, it is more usual to wear the two wedding rings than the second one only. * * * * * =formerly, widows considered it imperative to be married in widow's colours=, grey or mauve, and that white was forbidden wear; but it is no longer so regarded, and a widow may and does wear white or cream on her wedding-day--not exactly a maiden bridal dress, as a tinge of colour is introduced. the larger number still regard pale grey or pale heliotrope as more suitable on the occasion of a second marriage, and doubtless this is so when a widow is not in her first youth. a widow may not, of course, wear a bridal veil; she must wear a hat or toque, white or coloured, as she pleases. she can have a bouquet, not of white flowers only, but mauve or pink, or violets, according to choice. it is quite permissible to have a full choral service, and for the church in which the ceremony is performed to be decorated with plants and flowers, but wedding favours should not be given to the guests at its conclusion. * * * * * =when a widow has a reception the newly married pair should receive their guests= standing together. the bride's mother, or near relative, could assist them in receiving. if a luncheon is to be given, they should lead the way to the dining-room, and sit at the head of the table, side by side; but if a reception tea is given, the guests might be sent in at the tea hour--that is to say, told that tea is going on, and the bride and bridegroom could follow later should the numbers be too great to admit of all going into the tea room at the same time. * * * * * =it is quite in order for a widow to have a wedding cake=, but it should not be decorated with orange blossoms or with white flowers, merely with icing and ornamentations. the display of presents at the marriage of a widow is, as a rule, a very restricted one. the bridegroom and the bridegroom's family being the principal donors, the presents are seldom exhibited. the exception is when a widow has made many new friends, and has received wedding presents from them. presents, when made to a widow having a house of her own, are expected to be of substantial value, and there is a general reluctance felt to offering her trifles, even if expensive ones, such as a girl-bride would appreciate; not so a married lady of social standing. * * * * * =on arriving at the house= where the wedding luncheon or reception is to be held, the gentlemen should leave their hats in the hall. the ladies should not remove their bonnets or hats at a wedding luncheon or reception, neither should the bridesmaids do so. gentlemen should take off their gloves at wedding luncheons, but it is optional whether ladies do so or not. at receptions it is optional with both ladies and gentlemen whether they take off their gloves or not. the guests who have not already had an opportunity of speaking to the bride and bridegroom, on being ushered into the drawing-room, where the company assembles, should shake hands with them, having first gone through that ceremony with the host and hostess, if they have not already done so. previous to luncheon being announced the bride's father or mother should tell the principal of the gentlemen present whom to take down to luncheon. but this only applies to a sit-down luncheon. at standing-up luncheons the guests are not sent in in couples, but go in as they please, even two or three ladies together, and little or no precedency, bridal or otherwise, is followed as a general rule. the luncheon should be served in the dining-room, library, or large marquee, as the case may be. the bride's mother and the bridegroom's mother should take precedence of all other ladies present on the occasion of a wedding luncheon. * * * * * =at strictly family gatherings the guests should go in to luncheon in the following order:=--the bride and bridegroom. the bride's father with the bridegroom's mother. the bridegroom's father with the bride's mother. the best man with the head bridesmaid. the remaining bridesmaids with the gentlemen who are to take them in to luncheon. the rest of the company should follow in the wake of the bridesmaids. the bride should take the bridegroom's left arm. sitting-down luncheons and standing-up luncheons are equally fashionable, although the latter are far more general, and little or no bridal precedency is observed. when a standing-up luncheon is given, small tables are arranged for the convenience of the bridal party on one side of the room, while a long table occupies the centre of the room. when a sitting-down luncheon is given the bride and bridegroom should sit either at the head of a long table or at the centre of it--the bride at the bridegroom's left hand. the bride's father should sit next the bride with the bridegroom's mother. when the bride and bridegroom sit at the centre of the table the bridesmaids should sit opposite to them with the gentlemen who have taken them in to luncheon; each sitting at a gentleman's right hand. when the bride and bridegroom occupy the head of the table, the bridesmaids, with the gentlemen who have taken them in to luncheon, should place themselves next the parents on either side of the table, dividing their number into two groups. when the bride's father is dead, her eldest brother or nearest male relative should take his place and should take the bridegroom's mother in to luncheon. * * * * * =a wedding breakfast= is now termed a luncheon, champagne and other wines take the place of tea and coffee, which beverages are not served until towards the end of the luncheon. at weddings which take place at . p.m., a luncheon is frequently given at , followed by a "tea" at . * * * * * =the luncheon menu= generally comprises soup, entrées both hot and cold; chickens, game, mayonnaises, salads, jellies, creams, etc., etc., and other dishes of a like character. the sweets should be placed on the table, fruit also. the entrées, etc., should be handed by the servants, the sweets should also be taken off the table by the men-servants and handed round in turn. at a standing-up luncheon the gentlemen should help the ladies and themselves to the various dishes on the table, as dishes are not handed at this description of luncheon; hot entrées and soup are not given. the menu is in other respects similar. the tables should be decorated with flowers at either a standing-up or a sitting-down luncheon. bottles of champagne should be placed the length of the table at a standing-up luncheon; if not, the gentlemen should ask the servants in attendance for champagne for the ladies they have taken down, and for themselves. at a sitting-down luncheon the servants offer champagne to the guests in the same order in which they hand the dishes. when the sweets have been handed the bride should cut the wedding-cake. this she does by merely making the first incision with a knife; it should then be cut by the butler into small slices, and handed on dessert plates to the guests. * * * * * =the health of the bride and bridegroom= should then be proposed by the most distinguished guest present, for which the bridegroom should return thanks. he should then propose the health of the bridesmaids, for which the best man should return thanks. occasionally the gentleman of highest rank present also proposes this health in place of the bridegroom. the health of the bride's father and mother should be proposed by the bridegroom's father. it is now the custom to confine proposing healths at wedding luncheons within the narrowest limits. the health of the bride and bridegroom, and that of the bridesmaids being, in general, the only healths proposed. at standing-up luncheons and at wedding receptions, the health of the bride and bridegroom only is proposed. * * * * * =the bride should leave the dining-room= immediately after the healths have been drunk, to change her dress for departure. the head bridesmaid should accompany her, if related to her, and the guests should adjourn to the drawing-room to await the bride's reappearance, which should not be long delayed, and the adieus should then be made. leave-takings should not be prolonged more than is absolutely necessary. the parents should follow the bride and bridegroom into the hall, and adieus to them should there be made. * * * * * =the old-fashioned custom= of throwing satin slippers after the bride is sometimes observed, foolish as it is. it is the best man's or the head bridesmaid's privilege to perform this ridiculous act. when rice is thrown after a bride it should be scattered by the married and not by the unmarried ladies present; but the custom, like that of throwing the so-called "confetti," is now practically obsolete in good society. * * * * * =strewing the bride's path with flowers= from the church to the carriage by village children is a custom much followed at weddings which take place in the country. * * * * * =the honeymoon= now seldom lasts longer than a week or ten days. many brides prefer spending their honeymoon in their future home, if it happens to be in the country, instead of making a hurried trip to paris or elsewhere, or to spending it at the country house of a friend, lent to them for the purpose. but it is entirely a matter of individual feeling which course is taken. * * * * * =the bride's trousseau= should be marked with the initials of the name she is to take. * * * * * =the bridegroom should provide= the house-linen and all other things appertaining to the bride's new home. * * * * * =the wedding presents= should be dispatched to the bride's residence immediately after the wedding, and they should at once be put into their several places, and not arranged for the purpose of being shown to visitors. * * * * * =the bridal wreath= should not be worn after the wedding-day. the bridal wreath, the bridal bouquet, and the orange blossoms from the wedding-cake, if treasured as mementos of the happy event, should be preserved in the recesses of a locked drawer in the bride's chamber, and not exhibited under glass shades in the drawing-room. * * * * * =precedence= should not be accorded to a bride during the first three months after marriage, although this old-fashioned custom is sometimes followed at country dinner-parties on the occasion of a bride's first visit. * * * * * =the custom of sending wedding cake= to friends is an exploded one, and only followed between near relations. * * * * * =wedding cards= are, strictly speaking, out of date, and only sent by people who adhere to old-fashioned customs. * * * * * =the words "no cards"= should not be inserted when the announcement of a marriage is sent to the newspapers; neither should the intimation be added that the bride and bridegroom will be "at home" on certain days. chapter xvii wedding receptions =an afternoon wedding= usually takes place between and . o'clock, and the "reception" that follows is given from . to , on the return from the church. when a wedding is a choral one the choir and clergy frequently head the bridal procession. this is arranged with the vicar of the church where the marriage is solemnized. * * * * * =invitations= to wedding receptions are no longer issued on "at home" cards, but are included in the invitations to the wedding ceremony issued in printed notes. (see chapter xvi.) the arrangements in the tea-room, and the refreshments given, should be similar to those provided at large afternoon "at homes," with the addition of wedding-cake and champagne. * * * * * =ceremony= is, as far as possible, dispensed with as regards sending the guests into the tea-room, and this is a great advantage gained over a wedding luncheon, either a sitting-down or a standing-up one, when people are doubtful as to the exact place belonging to each individual relative. the bride and bridegroom either enter first, followed by the bridesmaids and a few of the principal guests, or they follow later, as they prefer. the remainder of the company should make their way downstairs as space permits, for a wedding reception is a crowded affair, even in the largest of mansions. not only is every one invited who has given a wedding present to either bride or bridegroom, within visiting distance, but even others who are not intimate enough to be expected to do so. the guests should not make their way in the first instance to the tea-room, but should proceed at once to the drawing-room and shake hands with the host and hostess, and afterwards with the bride and bridegroom. the bride and bridegroom should stand together within the drawing-room and shake hands with all those with whom they are acquainted. the bride and bridegroom should be the first to enter the tea-room. flowers, as a matter of course, are a great feature at wedding receptions. the tea and coffee should be served by the maid-servants, generally by the lady's maids, but men-servants should also be in attendance to open the champagne as required. very little wine is drunk at this hour of the day. ladies seldom care for it, and gentlemen avoid it on principle. still, out of compliment to the bride, the relatives quaff a cup of sparkling wine, although her health is seldom proposed or speeches of any kind made. the bride should put the knife into the wedding-cake, and the butler should cut it up and hand it to the guests. seats should not be placed in the tea-room, and the tables should occupy the top or side, or both the top and side, of the room, according to the number of guests invited, so as to leave as much space as possible in the centre of the room. the bride and bridegroom are not always present at a wedding tea, as the departure for the proposed place of honeymoon does not in every case admit of it, and the mother holds the "at home," and the guests inspect the presents after the newly-married couple have left. an "at home" is sometimes given a few days previous to the wedding for the inspection of the presents, if they are very numerous and beautiful; but even when this is done they still form a centre of interest on the afternoon of the wedding to the many guests. when jewellery and plate to any great extent form a portion of the presents, it is sometimes thought necessary to have a policeman on duty while the house is open to so many comers, and when to effect an entrance under the pretext of business would be an easy matter. chapter xviii wedding expenses =the responsibilities of a bridegroom= from a pecuniary point of view commence from the moment of his engagement. he must at once present the bride-elect with an engagement ring. a man of even moderate wealth finds no difficulty in choosing and purchasing a handsome ring costing from £ to £ ; but a poor man, possessing but a small income, is often put to more expense than he can conveniently afford in the matter of an engagement ring. he knows all the members of the bride's family will sit in judgment upon it if it is but a modest gift worth about £ , which is quite as much as he feels he is justified in spending; he knows that both it and himself will be regarded as very mean, or as conveying a not very inspiriting prospect of days to come. the engagement ring worn on the bride's finger after marriage is a lasting memento, and if a poor one she will not be proud of it--neither will he. rich men take the brides to choose engagement rings, expense being no object to them; but poor men cannot do this, as the choice might fall on gems beyond their means, therefore they make the choice themselves, according to the position of the families they are about to enter. if the standing is above their own, from a money point of view, the engagement rings have to be chosen in accordance with the jewels worn by members of such families, and a bridegroom would thus spend £ at least on an engagement ring suitable to a lady so placed. on the other hand, when men with small incomes marry the daughters of parents of a similar position to their own, the engagement rings given are not costly ones, and a ten-pound note, or even less, would cover the cost of these binding tokens. the wedding rings are within the means of all bridegrooms, be they ever so poor. * * * * * =during the engagement= the question of presents to the brides-elect is never absent from the thoughts of their bridegrooms. the wealthy please themselves and their brides by giving costly jewels, which are often chosen by the brides themselves in company with their bridegrooms. this is very delightful shopping, but it does not fall to the lot of the great majority. men of moderate means give presents of moderate value and few in number; they are not bound by etiquette during their engagements to give any jewellery if their incomes do not warrant this outlay; but a man must have very little money to go upon if he cannot contrive to give a bracelet or necklet or some such trinket to the girl he is about to marry. * * * * * =to give presents to the bridesmaids= is another of the obligations of bridegrooms. here again, the wealthy exercise their generosity and good taste with the concurrence of their brides, who assist them in the choice of suitable presents in articles of jewellery. these average £ and upwards for each bridesmaid, which bring it to a good total when the bridesmaids are numerous. the point that affects the generosity of bridegrooms, however, is not how much they ought to spend on these presents, but rather, how little may be spent upon them with due consideration for the fitness of things, viz. the position of the bridesmaids. two sovereigns would be a reasonable sum for a man of small means to spend on each gift to the bridesmaid. * * * * * =the bridal bouquet and the bridesmaids' bouquets= come next on the list of expenses a bridegroom defrays. rich men spend liberally in this direction, but average sums to give to meet ordinary incomes are two guineas to one guinea for a bride's bouquet, and five and twenty to fifteen shillings each for the bridesmaids' bouquets. * * * * * =the fees connected with the ceremony= are strictly the province of the bridegroom to defray. if a marriage is by licence, he pays the cost, which in town amounts to £ s. d., and in the country from £ s. d. to £ s. the fee to the vicar of the church where the marriage is to be solemnised varies from £ s. to £ s., oftener £ s. than not with the majority of bridegrooms with moderate incomes, the exception being £ s. the minor fees are very trifling that a bridegroom is expected to pay. he pays the organist for playing a wedding march at the conclusion of the service, if it is not a choral one; the bell-ringers look to him for their fee, as do the vergers, etc. thus a bridegroom pays for what is absolutely necessary at the marriage ceremony only, and very little besides. * * * * * =when a friend of the bride or bridegroom performs the ceremony= or assists at it a fee is not given to him by the bridegroom, but a present of some kind is made to him, either in silver plate or by a small cheque, as circumstances dictate, for railway expenses or otherwise. it is usual for the bridegroom to do this unless the clergyman in question is a relative of the bride, when a joint present is usually given by bride and bridegroom. * * * * * =the bride's parents bear a large share of the wedding expenses=, foremost of which is the bride's trousseau, the cost of this being entirely dependent on position and income. the dinners and "at homes" given before the marriage to introduce the bridegroom to the members of the bride's family are given by the bride's parents. the wedding reception is given by them, either at their own residence or at an hotel. as concerns their share of the expenses connected with the ceremony, it depends upon whether the wedding is to be a smart one or a quiet one. if the former, the expenses that fall to them are somewhat considerable; if the latter, they are almost nil. a choral service, for instance, is paid for by the bride's parents, the organist, choirmaster, and choir all being severally paid by them. if the hymns sung are printed on leaflets this trifling expense also is included. all floral decorations are paid for by the bride's parents, as is the hire of the awning and the red felt at the church doors. when wedding favours or buttonholes are given it is by them also. * * * * * =for whom the bride's family are expected to provide conveyances is invariably a misunderstood detail.=--the bride's father has only to provide carriages or cars to convey himself and bride to the church, and for those members of his family residing under his roof, and for visitors staying with him for the wedding. he is not required to provide them for any other of the guests, save in the country, and then only for those who arrive by train at a roadside station and cannot obtain conveyances for themselves. in town the bridegroom has to provide the motor-car to convey himself and bride from the church to her father's house, and afterwards to the station. in the country the reverse is the case, and the bride's father does this by lending one of his own carriages or cars for the purpose. * * * * * =the bridegroom is expected to provide the furniture= and all household effects for the new home, including plate and linen, which latter naturally form very important items. many of the bridal presents, however are made to lighten these expenses, and consist of plate to a great extent, and occasionally of linen also, from the members of the bride's family; still, the rule in england is that the bridegroom should provide it as part of the necessaries of the home, and the gift of it by relatives is altogether optional. chapter xix afternoon "at homes" =afternoon "at homes"= are a great feature amongst the entertainments of the day, large afternoon parties, and small afternoon parties; parties so large that the number of guests equals those at a big crush or evening reception, and so small that they might fairly come under the denomination of afternoon teas. at afternoon "at homes," ladies are present in a considerable majority, there being usually from about ten gentlemen to thirty ladies on an average present at these gatherings. ladies have a decided partiality for this class of entertainment, as it affords an opportunity for meeting their friends and acquaintances, or for making new acquaintances, and for forming future plans and interchanging civilities; and even in the height of the london season, afternoon "at homes" are fully attended by the members of the fashionable world. there are various classes of afternoon "at homes": the large "at home" of from fifty to two hundred guests, when usually professional vocal and instrumental talent is engaged, and fairly good music given, although the entertainment is not of sufficient importance to be termed a concert; the "at home" of from fifty to a hundred guests when only amateur talent is in requisition; and the small "at home" of from ten to thirty people, when conversation usually takes the place of music, the party being composed of friends rather than of acquaintances. * * * * * =invitations to "at homes"= should be issued in the name of the hostess only, and not in the united names of the master and mistress of the house. invitations should be issued on "at home" cards, large and small, and also on visiting cards. the name of the person invited should be written at the top of the card at the right-hand corner, the words "at home" being printed beneath the name of the lady issuing the invitation, and the day and date beneath the words "at home," and the hour beneath the date. any amusement to be given should be added at the bottom of the card at the left-hand corner. the address should be printed at the right-hand corner at the bottom of the card. the letters r.s.v.p. are occasionally either written or printed on the "at home" card, at the left-hand corner of the bottom of the card, but it is not usual to write "r.s.v.p." in the corner of an afternoon "at home" card, as it is immaterial how many guests are present at this class of entertainment; but if an answer is so requested, an answer should be sent. r.s.v.p. signifies "_répondez, s'il vous plaît_," or "an answer is requested." it is customary to include the head of the family, either husband or father, in the invitation. thus, at the top of the card, at the right-hand corner should be written "mr. and mrs. a.," or "mr. and miss a." the daughters of the house should be included in the invitation sent to their mother. thus "mr. and mrs. a.," "the misses a.," but the sons of the house should be invited separately. when a family consists of a mother and daughters, the invitation should be "mrs. and the misses a." the title of "honourable" should not be put on an invitation card, but only on the envelope containing the card. all other titles are recognised on invitation cards; but the letters k.c.b., m.p., etc., should not be written on the cards, but only on the envelopes in which they are enclosed. if a lady is aware that she will be unable to be present, it would be polite to send her excuses, although strict etiquette does not demand it; both the invitation and the answer can in all cases be sent by post. it is not now considered necessary to leave cards after afternoon "at homes." invitations to large afternoon "at homes" should be issued a fortnight previous to the day, and to small "at homes" within a week or so of the day. * * * * * =the arrival of guests.=--when invited guests arrive, they should not inquire if the hostess is at home, but at once enter the house; and they should be ushered at once into the tea-room. the gentlemen should leave their hats and overcoats in the hall. at large "at homes" a cloak-room should be provided, so that a lady could remove a cloak or fur-cape, usually worn during the winter weather; but at small "at homes" a cloak-room is not necessary, as the reception-rooms are neither so crowded nor so warm, neither are the ladies' toilettes so elaborate. * * * * * =refreshments.=--at large "at homes" refreshments should be served in the dining-room, on a long buffet at one end of the room, or on a long table the length of the room. the lady's-maids and other maid-servants should stand behind the table to pour out and hand the cups of tea or coffee across the table as asked for. it is usual to have women-servants on these occasions to pour out the tea, a man-servant or men-servants being also in attendance, in case anything is required of them, although gentlemen usually help themselves to claret-cup, wine, etc. the usual refreshments given at these "at homes" are tea and coffee, the latter served from large silver urns. (see chapter "preparing afternoon tea," in the work entitled "waiting at table.") sherry, champagne-cup, claret-cup, ices, fruit, fancy biscuits and cakes, thin bread-and-butter, potted game, sandwiches, etc. ice plates are used for ices, dessert plates for fruit and fruit salads. at small "at homes" champagne, claret-cup, and ices are not given. the tea should be made in teapots, instead of in urns, at both large and small "at homes." at small "at homes" the tea is usually served in the smaller of the two drawing-rooms, or in an adjoining boudoir or ante-room. the tea is then poured out by the young ladies of the house, or by the hostess herself, but seldom by maid-servants when served in the drawing-room. the most convenient manner, however, of serving tea is to serve it in the dining-room, unless the number of guests is limited, when it would appear unsociable if they were to congregate in the dining-room, leaving the hostess comparatively alone in the drawing-room. when tea is served in the dining-room, the guests are usually asked by the servant in attendance if they will have tea before being ushered into the drawing-room. at small teas, the cups of tea should be handed to the ladies by the gentlemen present, or by the young lady officiating at the tea-table, and gentlemen generally stand about the room, or near the tea-table, at small "at homes." * * * * * =receiving guests.=--the servant should precede the guests to the drawing-room as in "morning calls." at large "at homes" the hostess should receive her guests at the drawing-room door, and shake hands with each on arrival. the drawing-room door should remain open, and she should stand within the doorway. at small teas, the drawing-room door should not remain open, and the hostess should receive her guests within the room, as at "morning calls." the guests should arrive from a quarter-past four until half-past five or six o'clock. the guests are not expected to remain the whole three hours specified, and are at liberty to remain as long or as short a time as they please. the earliest arrivals are generally the first to leave. when the hostess judges it expedient to do so, she introduces one or two of the ladies to each other, either in a formal manner (see chapter ii.), or in a semi-formal manner, by saying, "mrs. a., i don't think you know mrs. b."; but she should not say this unless quite certain that mrs. b. desires the acquaintance of mrs. a., or that mrs. a. has no objection to knowing mrs. b.[ ] it is rather the exception than the rule to make general introductions on these occasions. introductions should only be made when the hostess is aware that the persons introduced would be likely to appreciate each other, or for any reason of equal weight. the guests should go to the tea-room with any gentlemen of their acquaintance present, or in the case of ladies with each other, if they have not done so on arrival. this move to the tea-room is usually made in the intervals between music, recitations, etc. occasionally, the hostess introduces one or two of the gentlemen present to the ladies of highest rank for the purpose of sending them into the tea-room. a lady should place her empty cup on any table near at hand, unless a gentleman offers to put it down for her. it is optional whether a lady removes her gloves or not, and many prefer not to do so. at large "at homes," the hostess remains at her post the whole of the time, and hardly ever sits down. at small "at homes," she should move amongst her guests, conversing with them all more or less. when there are daughters, they should assist their mother in entertaining the guests. when ladies are acquainted, they should take an opportunity of speaking to each other. it is usual for ladies to move about the rooms at afternoon "at homes" to speak to their various friends and acquaintances; and they are by no means obliged to remain seated in one spot unless desirous of doing so. when music is given at afternoon "at homes," it is usual to listen to the performance, or at least to appear to do so; and if conversation is carried on, it should be in a low tone, so as not to disturb or annoy the performers. it is not necessary to take leave of the hostess at afternoon "at homes," unless she is standing near the drawing-room door when the guest is passing out, or unless she is a new acquaintance, and the visit a first one at her house, when it would be polite to do so. when it is late, and but a few guests still remain, these few should make their adieus to the hostess. at these afternoon teas or "at homes," the hostess should not ring to order the door to be opened for the departing guest or for her motor-car to be called, as at "morning calls." the guests make their way to the hall, and the servants in attendance call up the motor-cars as they are asked for. motor-cars should always be kept in waiting at afternoon "at homes," as ladies are sometimes unable to remain longer than a quarter of an hour. the guests either remain in the hall or in the dining-room until they hear their motor-cars are announced. * * * * * =gratuities= should never be offered to servants at these entertainments, or, in fact, at any entertainment whatever. * * * * * =afternoon concerts.=--when afternoon concerts are given, invitations should be issued on the usual "at home" cards, which can be purchased with the words "at home," etc., already printed, or they are printed to order, with the name and address of the hostess. the name of the person invited should be written above the name of the hostess at the right-hand corner of the card. the date under the line "at home" should be in the centre of the card beneath the name of the hostess; the hour should be written at the left-hand corner, and the letters r.s.v.p. the printed address should be at the right-hand corner. the names of the performers should be added at the bottom of the card at the right-hand corner. the hour usually fixed for a concert is o'clock. the hostess should receive her guests at the drawing-room door, when they should at once seat themselves. the seats should be arranged in rows down the centre of the room, and sofas and settees should be placed around the room. the programme of a concert is divided into two parts, and at the conclusion of the first part the guests should repair to the dining-room for refreshments, which are served as at large "at homes." * * * * * =afternoon dances.=--invitations to afternoon dances should be issued on "at home" cards in the manner already described. "dancing" should be printed in the corner of cards, and the hour of " to " o'clock substituted for that of " " o'clock. the words "afternoon dance" should not be written on an invitation card, and there is no other received form of invitation for afternoon dances than the one already given. afternoon dances are very popular at watering-places, military stations, small towns in the vicinity of london, etc., but are seldom given in london itself. refreshments should be served during the whole of the afternoon, from to , as at large "at homes." the ladies should remove their jackets or wraps in the cloak-room, but retain their hats or bonnets; the hostess should receive her guests at the drawing-room door, as at an afternoon "at home." * * * * * =bridge teas= occupy an important place in social life. they are a convenient form of entertainment, as they allow of a small number of guests being invited, even as few as eight persons being considered a reasonable number of players to invite, while twenty-four is distinctly an outside one. the average number is in most instances sixteen, all told. the play usually commences at . , sometimes earlier, and continues until . , allowing an interval for "tea" at . . the invitations to these informal gatherings are either issued in friendly notes or on visiting cards. if on the latter, the words "at home," day, and date are written under the name of the hostess, while "bridge, . ," or " o'clock" is put in the corner of the cards opposite the address. the hostess arranges beforehand the places the guests are to occupy at the different tables; this is done that the good players may play together. when all have arrived, the hostess tells her guests where to sit, and is herself one of the players. on taking their seats they cut for partners. she does not invite guests to look on, as it would necessitate her not playing, but talking to them while they remain; besides conversation is discouraged, as it distracts the attention of the players from the game. the ladies retain their hats, but remove their coats, furs, etc., on arrival. footnotes: [ ] see chapter "conversing with new acquaintances," in the work entitled "the art of conversing." chapter xx "at home" days =an "at home"= day signifies that a lady is at home to her friends and acquaintances on one particular day in the week. she should intimate this fact by printing upon her visiting cards the days on which she is at home. thus: "thursdays in march," or "thursdays in march and april," or any day of the week she thinks proper to name. these cards she should leave in person on those who are not at home when she calls, or they can be sent by post. those she finds at home she should inform that her "at home" day is "thursday." she should not leave her visiting card in this case, only two of her husband's cards, and the "at home" day should not be written upon them. on the "at home" day, calls should be made from three to six, or from four to six. the first comers should leave before the afternoon tea hour and should limit their call according to the degree of intimacy existing, remaining from a quarter of an hour to an hour, as the case may be. * * * * * =a hostess or her daughter should pour out the tea= on these "at home" days when tea is not served in the dining-room as at "at homes," which should be done when the number of visitors is very considerable. the popularity of a hostess is tested on these "at home" days by the number of visitors who call during the afternoon, and when "at home" days are not a success, socially speaking, she should discontinue them after a certain time, and should substitute an occasional "at home." it depends not a little on the social standing of the lady who has an "at home" day and upon the locality in which she lives, as to whether the "at home" day is a failure or the reverse. in the outlying districts of town it has its advantages, when to make a call amounts to almost a journey, and when acquaintances are few in the immediate neighbourhood. again, it has its advantages when ladies are much occupied during the week, and when their time is given up to an engrossing occupation, charitable or artistic, at home or away from home, literary or scientific, at studios, museums and public institutions, etc., work undertaken for their own amusement, profit, or advancement, or for the benefit of others. to these ladies an "at home" day is a convenience. one day in the week is all they can allow themselves apart from their important engagements, and to them quiet privacy and leisure are indispensable. fashionable ladies consider an "at home" day to be a great tax upon their time and inclinations. their engagements are too numerous to admit of giving up one whole afternoon in every week on the chance of people calling. not only longstanding but impromptu engagements preclude this sacrifice. it would be a breach of politeness not to be at home to callers on an "at home" day, and many things might occur to necessitate absence from home on that particular afternoon. if, however, absence is unavoidable, a relative might take the place of the hostess on the "at home" day in question. the people who thoroughly enjoy "at home" days are those who have more time on their hands than they know what to do with. the few calls they have to make are soon made, the few friends they have to see are soon seen, occupation they have none, and they are grateful for the opportunity "at home" days offer of meeting their friends and finding a hostess at home. chapter xxi colonial etiquette generally speaking, etiquette is followed in the colonies and in india by english men and women very much as in the mother country as regards its principles, rules, and observances. one marked difference occurs in the hours of calling, it is true, they being regulated by climate. in hot climates, the early morning hours, before noon, and late evening hours, after sunset, are, according to the fashion of the place, the chosen hours for calling; but in more temperate climes--resembling our own--the afternoon hours are, as with us, the hours for calling. again, the rule that residents should call upon new-comers, whether they be visitors of other residents or intending residents, holds equally good both in civilian and military circles alike. in all colonies and dependencies "government house" is the centre to which all society gravitates--that is to say, that all new-comers, whether they are to become permanent or temporary residents, providing their social position warrants the action, hasten to make known their arrival by writing their names and addresses in the visitors' book kept at each government house for the purpose. the object of doing this is to be received at government house, and thus to obtain an entrance into the society of the place. what follows upon this social observance--it hardly merits the name of civility, such calls being actuated by self-interest in the first instance--depends upon a variety of circumstances, the position of the caller, and whether the stay is to be permanent or temporary, whether introductions are brought or not, and so on. the invitations extended to them are regulated accordingly. they may be limited to afternoon "at homes"; or receptions, dinners, and dances may be included; or a visit to the summer residence of the governor and his wife may also be reckoned amongst invitations, as this latter is not an unusual display of hospitality accorded to certain individuals. * * * * * =how the governor of a colony should be addressed= by his guests depends upon his rank. as he represents the sovereign, it would be quite correct to address him as "sir," as being the most deferential mode, and governors as a body rather like to be thus addressed. in the case of a governor being a knight--a very usual contingency--it would be equally correct to address him as "sir george," and not as "sir." when a governor has not received knighthood, he should be addressed as "mr. a----," when it is not desired to be too stiff and formal. in conversation, when referring to the governor--he being present--it should not be "the governor," but "lord blank," "sir george," or "mr. a---- said so and so," unless strangers are present, before whom it would seem right to be a little formal. in addressing a governor by letter, the envelope should be directed to "his excellency sir george blank," however friendly its contents may be; but when writing to a governor's wife, it has not been thought right to style her "her excellency," but simply "lady blank," unless in the case of a viceroy's wife, as in india or ireland; but as against this the point was raised some years ago, and it was then decided that the wives of governors were entitled to be so addressed. colloquially, the members of a governor's suite refer to both the governor and his wife as "his" and "her excellency," and style them "your excellency," and all who approach them officially, being of inferior rank, do likewise; but socially they are seldom so addressed. * * * * * =a colonial bishop= should not actually be styled "my lord," or referred to as "the lord bishop," if it is desired to be quite correct; but "my lord" or "the lord bishop" is now often used by persons who know it is not the proper style of address, but make use of these titles, wishing to be more deferential than scrupulously correct. in writing to a colonial bishop, the envelope should be addressed to "the right rev. the bishop of ----," and the letter commenced "right rev. sir" or "dear bishop blank." a colonial officer who has received the king's special permission to retain the title of "honourable" which he bore in his colony, is accorded at court, _i.e._ at a levée, court ball, etc., the same precedence as a peer's son, who is styled "honourable," but this does not practically give him any rank or precedence at ordinary social gatherings, where that special grant is unknown or ignored. also the privilege confers no rank or precedence upon the wife or daughters of a colonial honourable, just as the wife of a right honourable here has no special precedence. the title of honourable cannot continue to be borne by a retired colonial officer or legislative councillor unless it has been specially authorised by the sovereign on the recommendation of the secretary of state for the colonies. chapter xxii indian etiquette it is the custom that those who wish to be invited to government house (viceregal house) at simla, or elsewhere, should, immediately on arrival, write their names in the visitors' book kept for that purpose, and they are sure, if in general society, to be asked to one or more of the receptions held during the season. they are introduced to the vice-queen--as the wife of the viceroy is termed--by one of the _aides-de-camp_ in waiting. when a lady is the wife of a government official, it gives her a position in society in india which perhaps she would not otherwise have, and is in itself a passport to most functions. official rank is everything in india. * * * * * =as regards attending the viceregal drawing-rooms=, they are only held in calcutta and in the evening. if a lady has been presented at a court in england, she can attend a drawing-room in calcutta; but, if she has not been presented at home, she must be introduced by some other lady who has been presented at the viceregal court. in writing unofficially to the governor-general of india, it would not be correct to use the title of "viceroy," and the proper superscription is "his excellency the right hon."; or, if a duke, "his excellency the duke of ----"; or, if a marquis, "his excellency the most honble. marquis of ----," etc. to the wife of a viceroy the address should be "her excellency the duchess of ----," "her excellency the marchioness of ----," "her excellency the countess of ----"; or "her excellency the lady blank," if the wife of a baron. when addressing a viceroy or vice-queen colloquially or unofficially, "your excellency" should not be used in either case. the title only in both instances should be employed. on being introduced to either of their excellencies, it would be correct to curtsy. chapter xxiii garden-parties garden-parties are entertainments that are annually given. if the weather is fine, the more enjoyable it is for the guests; if wet, a garden-party resolves itself into a large "at home." in almost every county a series of garden-parties is held by the principal ladies of their respective neighbourhoods during august and september, nothing but absence from home, illness, or some equally good reason being considered sufficient excuse for the non-fulfilment of this social duty. the county at large expects to be invited at least once a year to roam about in the beautiful park of the lord of the manor, to row on the lake, to play lawn-tennis on the lawn, to wander through the winding paths of the shady, leafy shrubberies, to admire the brilliant hues of the geraniums bedded out on parterre and terrace, or the variegated asters, or the late gloire-de-dijon roses, which at the end of august are in their fullest beauty. then there are the conservatories through which to saunter, and from which to beat a retreat, if the sun is too powerful, into the mansion itself, the reception-rooms being generally thrown open on the occasion of a garden-party. a garden-party is an occasion for offering hospitality to a wide range of guests--people whom it would not be convenient to entertain save at this description of gathering. invitations are on these occasions freely accorded to ladies, from the energetic lady of eighty to the little lady of eight. one great advantage offered by a garden-party is that it is immaterial to what extent ladies are in the majority, and it is a reproach to a county rather than to a hostess if the muster of guests is eighty ladies against twenty gentlemen. * * * * * =invitations to a garden-party= should be issued in the name of the hostess, and within three weeks to a week of the date fixed. "at home" cards should be used for this purpose, and the words "and party" should be invariably added after the names of the invited guests. "croquet" or "tennis" should be printed in one corner of the card, the hour, to o'clock, above, the day and the date beneath the name of hostess. "weather permitting" is seldom written upon the card, and the guests are expected to arrive even though the afternoon should be showery and overcast, and only a thoroughly wet afternoon, with no break between the showers, should prevent their appearing. in the country, ladies think little of a drive of ten miles to attend a garden-party. * * * * * =arrangements for garden-parties.=--garden-parties or croquet-parties are given on different scales of expenditure, and the preparations are regulated accordingly. when a garden-party is given on a small scale, and the preparations are comparatively few, refreshments should be served in the house. (for the usual refreshments provided, and for the general arrangements, see work entitled "waiting at table," p. .) a good supply of garden-chairs and seats should be placed on the lawn and about the grounds, rugs spread on the grass for those who sit out, and several sets of croquet provided for players. at large garden-parties a band is considered a necessary adjunct, and the band of the regiment quartered in the vicinity is usually available for these occasions. a band gives _éclat_ to an out-door gathering and confers local importance upon it. apart from this, the strains of a band enliven an entertainment of this description in no little degree. the place where the band is stationed is a rallying-point for the company, and the expense and trouble consequent upon engaging a band are repaid by the amusement it affords. the matter of engaging a military band is generally undertaken by the master of the house, rather than by the mistress, as, in the first place, the consent of the colonel of the regiment has to be obtained as a matter of form and courtesy before the arrangements are completed with the bandmaster. conveyance for the band has also to be provided and discussed with the bandmaster, and also refreshments for the bandsmen; and these details are more effectually carried out by a host than by a hostess. occasionally a large marquee is erected in which to serve refreshments, but more frequently the refreshments for the general company are served in the house, and only cool drinks dispensed in a tent to the cricketers or lawn-tennis players. * * * * * =cricket-matches= are often the _raison d'être_ of a garden-party, rendering it popular with both ladies and gentlemen. the cricket-match in this case generally takes place in a field near to the grounds of the mansion, the match commencing about twelve o'clock, and the general company arriving about half-past three, or punctually at four, to witness the finish. golf now ranks first amongst fashionable outdoor amusements with both sexes. private links are comparatively few, but club links exist in almost every neighbourhood--ladies' clubs, men's clubs, and clubs for both ladies and gentlemen. croquet or tennis tournaments are frequently the occasion of giving garden-parties, and some very exciting play takes place. when a tournament is held it takes the form of a garden-party; it usually lasts two days. the arrangements made for holding it depend upon circumstances, and it takes place, as do archery-matches, in either private or public grounds. * * * * * =amusements.=--when a number of children are expected at a garden-party, performances of marionettes, or punch-and-judy, or conjuring are given for their amusement. in districts remote from town, these shows are difficult to obtain; therefore amateur showmen come bravely to the rescue, and their kindly efforts to divert the juveniles meet with due appreciation on all sides. not seldom a little amateur music is given at a garden-party--not a pre-arranged programme of music, but impromptu performances. these good-natured efforts to enliven the company occupy about an hour, and such performances take place in either the drawing-room or music-room of the mansion. garden-parties seldom terminate with a dance, though occasionally dancing closes the afternoon's amusements. the time occupied by croquet or tennis precludes all desire on the part of the players for further exertion in the shape of dancing, and young people apparently prefer playing croquet from to on the lawn to dancing in a marquee or in the drawing-room at that hour. a host and hostess receive their guests at a garden-party on the lawn; strangers should be introduced to the hostess by those who have undertaken to bring them to her house, and she should shake hands with all comers. it is also usual for guests to shake hands with the hostess on departure, if opportunity offers for so doing. garden-parties commence from . to o'clock, and terminate at o'clock. in making preparations for a garden-party, stabling for the carriage-horses and motor-cars of the numerous guests should be taken into consideration, and refreshments provided for the men-servants and chauffeurs. public afternoon concerts, bazaars, and flower-shows are essentially functions frequented by ladies _en masse_, and it is the exception, rather than the rule, for gentlemen to accompany them; again, at private afternoon gatherings, ladies usually appear unaccompanied by gentlemen. when a garden-party is a very large function, it is not unusual to put the words "garden-party" on the invitation cards in place of the words "at home"; thus: "the countess of a---- requests the pleasure of mr. and mrs. b----'s company at a garden-party on----," etc. chapter xxiv town garden-parties the first garden-parties in town are usually given early in june, and continue during this and the ensuing month. the garden-parties at lambeth palace and fulham palace are the pioneers of the garden-party season, and the lead is followed by general society with more or less alacrity. town garden-parties resolve themselves into large receptions held out-of-doors, and those who know what crowded drawing-rooms imply in the sultry days of june are particularly glad of this change of _locale_, and willingly spend an hour or more at one of these out-of-door _réunions_, instead of thinking a quarter of an hour's stay all too long within doors, where it is a case of heat _versus_ draught, and difficult to determine where it is the most objectionable, in the drawing-room, tea-room, or on a staircase. although these functions are designated "garden-parties," yet the real style and title is "at homes," the address being sufficient indication to the invited guests as to the description of entertainment to be given, as the spacious gardens and lawns in and around london where these annual parties are held are well known to society at large. a band playing in the grounds where the garden-party is given would appear to be a _sine quâ non_, but the excellence of the same is merely a question of expense. thus guests have the pleasure of listening to the strains of splendid bands, and also the disappointment of hearing others far below the average. as this fickle climate of ours is not to be counted upon for twenty-four hours at a stretch to remain fine, it is seldom considered advisable to have the whole of the refreshment tables out-of-doors, and thus only ices, strawberries and cream, and ice cups are served out-of-doors; tea, coffee, and the rest, with ices, strawberries and cream, being invariably served within doors. * * * * * =refreshment tables out-of-doors= considerably take off the strain from the tables in the tea-rooms, especially during the first half-hour, when the great rush is made in this direction. again, should heavy rain set in, the servants can easily remove pails of ice and bowls of strawberries and cream out of harm's way. even a large tent or marquee is not considered altogether desirable for refreshments, as under a burning sun the air within becomes over-heated and oppressive, while in the case of a downpour the results are almost disastrous. the popularity of garden-parties is incontestible in propitious weather. a variety of reasons conduce to this; for one thing, movement is so pleasant an exchange from the almost stationary position guests are compelled to take up in a crowded drawing-room. again, the number of guests invited is so much greater than to an "at home," that the chance of meeting a corresponding number of friends and acquaintances is trebled; or, on the other hand, if but a few friends should be present among the guests, yet the situation does not amount to isolation and boredom; and the alternative of sitting under a shady tree or sauntering about on the lawns listening to the strains of the band, is positive enjoyment in comparison to sitting in the corner of a drawing-room barricaded by a phalanx of ladies, or standing wedged in the midst of the same. it is small wonder, therefore, that invitations to these outdoor functions are hailed with satisfaction and pleasure. * * * * * =arrivals at a garden-party= are made almost simultaneously, or if not quite this, they follow in rapid succession, so that host and hostess have a short interval between arrivals and departures; and this offers an opportunity to give more than a shake of the hand to many of the guests, _i.e._ a little friendly conversation; while at an "at home" the hostess has to be at her post from p.m. to p.m., as guests arrive continuously, even close up to the hour named for departure. the host is expected to be present at a garden-party, and almost always is so; but his presence at his wife's "at home" is left a little doubtful, and his absence is often accounted for on the ground of its being unavoidable; but the trivial reasons that many men advance to their wives for their non-appearance prove how glad they are to escape from the ordeal on any terms. a man in the open air is at his best, and therefore a garden-party appeals to a host almost as much as it does to a guest. although the words "at home" are in general use when issuing invitations to these functions, yet occasionally the words "garden-party" are substituted in lieu of them on the "at home" cards, when the gatherings are unusually large; thus: "viscountess b---- requests the pleasure of mr. and mrs. g----'s company at a garden-party on----," etc. chapter xxv evening garden-parties =the garden-party season= has been widened out by the introduction of "evening garden-parties" into the list of country festivities, and this form of entertainment has found great favour with all. invitations are issued on the usual "at home" cards, the hours from to p.m. occasionally "dancing" is printed on the cards, but not often, as it is not usual to combine an evening garden-party with a dance, except when only young girls and young men are invited. some little perplexity is felt by the recipients of evening garden-party invitations as to the style of dress that should be worn. should ladies wear morning dress or evening dress? men are equally in doubt on this point. ought they to wear evening dress or not? although this is not stated on the invitation cards, yet it is tacitly understood that ladies are expected to appear in the usual garden-party attire--smart, pretty dresses and hats or bonnets, and small fashionable wraps carried in place of sunshades in the event of the evening air proving somewhat chilly. evening dress, when worn at one of these "at homes," looks particularly out of place. the thin evening shoes, which must of necessity be worn with this style of dress, suit neither dewy grass nor stony gravel; and although at the evening concerts at the botanic gardens many ladies wear "evening dress" with smart evening cloaks, this is beside the question. they go for a short half-hour or so, not for a three hours' stay. anyhow, at evening garden-parties, the rule is not to wear evening dress as far as ladies are concerned. men, on the other hand, one and all, are expected to do so, morning dress being looked upon as out of place on these occasions. a light overcoat is inseparable from evening dress, therefore it is not considered risky wear for men even on the chilliest of summer evenings. * * * * * =as to the arrangements= for one of these evening garden-parties. it is usual to have tea and coffee, and light refreshments during the whole of the evening, from arrival to departure, and to give a light supper a little before twelve o'clock. the gardens and grounds are illuminated with coloured lamps and lanterns, extensively or moderately, as the case may be. a band is considered indispensable, but a good one does not seem to be equally imperative, to judge from the indifferent performances of various bands heard on these summer evenings. however, country audiences are not too critical, knowing that to engage a good band from a distance entails considerable expense, and that evening garden-parties would be singularly few if superior music was insisted upon. thus the local band is encouraged to do its best, and to allow long intervals to elapse between each selection. in the case of an evening turning out decidedly wet, guests invited from a distance seldom put in an appearance, while the nearer neighbours do so, and the evening garden-party becomes an evening reception within doors, shorn of its numbers, it is true, but a pleasant gathering, nevertheless, especially with those who know how to make the best of a _contretemps_ caused by unpropitious weather. chapter xxvi luncheons =invitations to luncheon= are very much the order of the day in fashionable society. those who look back some few years remark the importance now accorded to this midday meal, and contrast it with the past. the lateness of the dinner-hour in a measure accounts for the position now taken by luncheon in the day's programme, joined to the fact that it offers another opportunity for social gatherings; and as the prevailing idea seems to be to crowd into one day as much amusement and variety and change as possible, invitations to luncheon have become one of the features of social life. * * * * * =invitations to public luncheons= are not now confined to the celebration of local and civic events, but take a far wider range, and are given on every available opportunity when the occasion can be made to serve for assembling a large party of ladies and gentlemen. luncheon is by some considered to be rather a lady's meal than not, although in reality invitations are given as frequently to the one sex as to the other. yet the predominance of ladies at luncheon is due to the fact that the majority of gentlemen are too much occupied at this hour to be at liberty to accept invitations to luncheon, while others, more idle, breakfast at so late an hour that to them a two o'clock luncheon is a farce as far as eating is concerned. outside of those who are busy men and those who are idle men, and consequently late risers, there is another semi-occupied class of men who are always amenable to an invitation to luncheon. this institution of luncheon is invaluable to people who have many friends, acquaintances, and relations to entertain, as invitations to this meal are given for every day in the week, with or without ceremony, with long notice or short notice, or on the spur of the moment. ladies enjoy the society of their hostess at luncheon far more than at a dinner-party. at the former meal she makes general conversation with her guests on both sides of the table; at the latter she is monopolised by her immediate neighbours, by the gentleman who takes her down to dinner, and by the one who sits at her right hand, while she leaves her guests to be entertained by the gentlemen who take them in to dinner. at luncheon things are different; there is no going in to luncheon, conventionally speaking, save on official and public occasions. luncheon occupies a prominent place in the round of hospitalities. invitations to luncheon are not formally issued on invitation cards, unless some especial reason exists for giving a large luncheon-party, in which case it takes rank as an entertainment. large luncheon-parties are given on occasions such as lawn-tennis tournaments and lawn-tennis parties, archery-parties, cricket matches and bazaars, etc. semi-official luncheons are given on the occasion of laying the foundation-stone of a church or public building, etc. this class of luncheon is beside the question, as it is rather a banquet than a luncheon, for which printed cards of invitation are issued. in general society invitations to luncheon are issued by written notes or are verbally given according to circumstances. * * * * * =invitations to luncheon.=--a week's notice is the longest usually given, very little notice being considered requisite. many hostesses give their friends _carte blanche_ invitations to luncheon; but ladies as a rule seldom avail themselves of this _façon de parler_, as they consider it, and prefer to await a more direct form of invitation. gentlemen, on the contrary, are expected to avail themselves of this proffered hospitality without ceremony, as the presence of a gentleman visitor at luncheon is considered an acquisition, the reason, perhaps, being that ladies are usually in the majority at luncheon, and also that the unexpected arrival of one or two ladies would call for a greater amount of attention on the part of a hostess seated at luncheon than would the unexpected arrival of gentlemen, ladies requiring especial attention to be shown to them in the matter of a place at table, etc., while gentlemen are ready to offer attention instead of requiring it, and to take any place at table, whether convenient or otherwise. as a rule, the number of ladies present at luncheon greatly exceeds the number of gentlemen present, unless at a luncheon-party, when a hostess usually endeavours to equalise the numbers as far as possible; but it is not imperative for her to do this, and it is immaterial whether there are as many gentlemen as ladies present at luncheon or not. luncheon is a very useful institution to a mistress of a house, as it enables her to show a considerable amount of civility to her friends and acquaintances. she can invite to luncheon those it might not, for various reasons, be convenient to invite to dinner; as for instance, young ladies, single ladies, elderly ladies, ladies coming to town, or into the neighbourhood for a few days only, and so on. the usual rule in houses where there are children old enough to do so, is for the children to dine at luncheon with their governess, whether there are guests present or not. * * * * * =in town the usual hour for luncheon= is . to o'clock; in the country it is generally half an hour earlier. the guests are expected to arrive within ten minutes of the hour named in the invitation, as although punctuality is not imperative, it is very desirable. a guest, on his or her arrival at a house, should not, if previously invited, inquire if the mistress of the house is at home, but should say, on the servant opening the door, "mrs. a. expects me to luncheon." when the guests are self-invited, they should inquire if the mistress of the house is at home. guests are conducted to the drawing-room before luncheon. the servant precedes them, as at morning calls. when guests arrive after the hour named for luncheon, they should be at once ushered into the dining-room, and their names announced. when the guests are unacquainted with each other, the hostess should make a sort of general introduction or introductions; that is to say, she should introduce one gentleman to two or three ladies, thus, "mr. a., mrs. b., mrs. c., and miss d.," making but one introduction in place of three separate introductions, this being the less formal mode of making unimportant introductions. it is not always possible for a host to be present at luncheon, owing to occupation and engagements, but courtesy to his wife's guests demands his presence when practicable. he should either join them in the drawing-room or in the dining-room, according to his convenience. guests are not sent in to luncheon as they are to dinner. ladies should not remove their hats at luncheon. they should remove their fur coats and wraps. these should either be left in the hall on arrival or taken off in the drawing-room or dining-room. short gloves should be removed; elbow gloves may be retained. gentlemen should not take their hats with them into the drawing-room, but should leave them in the hall. ten minutes is the usual time allowed between the arrival of the guests and serving luncheon, which is usually served at the hour named, the received rule being not to wait for guests. * * * * * =going in to luncheon.=--when the luncheon gong sounds the hostess should say to the lady of highest rank present, "shall we go in to luncheon?" or some such phrase. (see "the art of conversing.") the visitor should then move towards the door. if the host is present, he should walk beside her; if not, the hostess should do so. the other ladies should follow as far as possible according to precedency, the gentlemen going last. thus the hostess either follows with the ladies or leads the way. guests should not go in to luncheon arm-in-arm as at a dinner-party, but singly, each lady by herself, or, when space permits, side by side. gentlemen likewise, but on arriving in the dining-room, each gentleman should place himself by the side of a lady, or between two ladies, at table. the hostess should sit at the top of the table and the host at the bottom, as at dinner, but it is immaterial where the guests sit, although as a rule the lady of highest rank sits by the host, and the gentleman of highest rank by the hostess. a late arrival should, on being ushered into the dining-room, make his or her way to the top of the table to shake hands with the hostess, making some polite excuse for being late. a hostess should rise from her seat to welcome a lady, but she should not do so to welcome a gentleman. luncheon is either served _à la russe_ or not, according to inclination, both ways being in equally good taste, although, as a rule, the joint is served from the _buffet_ or side-table, while the _entrées_, game, or poultry are placed on the table. for further information respecting the arrangements for luncheon, see the work entitled "waiting at table." formerly it was the custom in some houses for the servants to leave the dining-room as soon as they had helped the various guests to the joint or joints, and handed round the vegetables and the wine, in which case the host and hostess helped the guests to the _entrées_ and sweets, or the gentlemen present did so; but now it is invariably the rule for the servants to remain in the room during the whole of luncheon, and to hand the dishes and wine, etc., to the guests as at dinner-parties. luncheon usually lasts about half an hour, during which time the hostess should endeavour to render conversation general. as at dinner, it is the duty of a hostess to give the signal for leaving the room, which she does by attracting the attention of the lady of highest rank present by means of a smile and a bow, rising at the same time from her seat. the host, or the gentleman nearest the door, should open it for the ladies to pass out. the ladies should leave the dining-room as far as possible in the order in which they have entered it, the hostess following last. * * * * * =when the host is not present=, the gentlemen should follow the ladies to the drawing-room; but when the host is present, the gentlemen should remain in the dining-room with the host a short time before joining the ladies in the drawing-room. it is optional on the part of the host whether he returns or not with the gentlemen to the drawing-room, although, if not particularly engaged, it is more courteous to do so. coffee is sometimes served after luncheon in the drawing-room. it is handed on a salver immediately after luncheon. the most usual way now, however, is to have coffee brought into the dining-room at the conclusion of luncheon, and handed to the guests on a salver. the guests are not expected to remain longer than twenty minutes after the adjournment to the drawing-room has been made. ladies should put on their gloves on their return to the drawing-room after luncheon. ladies having motor-cars should previously desire their chauffeurs to return for them from three to a quarter-past three o'clock, and the servant should inform each guest of the arrival of her motor-car. when a lady requires a cab, she should ask the hostess's permission to have one called for her. the subject of leave-taking is fully described in chapter iv. chapter xxvii breakfasts =breakfast parties= have in certain circles become a feature, and invitations to breakfast are issued both by card and by note. in official circles breakfast parties are frequently given, the morning hours up to one o'clock being the only disengaged portion of the day, and thus the opportunity is taken for offering and receiving hospitality, and of enjoying the society of friends and acquaintances. the breakfast hour varies from ten to eleven, according to circumstances, and the meal somewhat resembles a luncheon, fish, _entrées_, game, and cold viands being given, with the addition of tea, coffee, and liqueurs. punctuality on these occasions is almost imperative, as breakfast cannot be prolonged beyond a given limit, and therefore it is not considered necessary to wait the coming of a late guest. the guests go in to breakfast as to luncheon. when a party consists of both ladies and gentlemen, the hostess should lead the way with the lady of highest rank, followed by the other ladies, the gentlemen following with the host. when a party consists of gentlemen only, the host should lead the way with the gentleman of highest rank, and should indicate to the principal of the gentlemen present the places he wishes them to occupy at table; the remainder of the company should seat themselves according to inclination. the table should be laid as for luncheon, and decorated with flowers and fruit. tea and coffee should be served from a side table by the servants in attendance. all dishes should be handed as at luncheon. for the details of "breakfast-table arrangements and serving breakfast," see the work entitled "waiting at table." the guests usually leave as soon as breakfast is over, unless the ladies are invited by the hostess to accompany her to the drawing-room, or the gentlemen are invited by the host to smoke a cigarette or cigar previous to their departure. * * * * * =house party breakfasts.=--in the country the breakfast hour varies from to . , and in some country houses it is an understood thing that the guests are at liberty to come down to breakfast at any time between nine and half-past ten. in not a few country houses the hostess and the ladies breakfast in their own rooms, and the gentlemen of the party breakfast with the host in the breakfast-room. the breakfast gong is a signal for assembling in the breakfast-room or dining-room, but it is not the custom to wait for any one beyond five or ten minutes. the host and hostess at once take their places at the breakfast-table. when the house-party is a large one, and space permits, a number of small tables should be arranged in the breakfast-room, in addition to a long breakfast-table. the servants should remain in attendance during breakfast to wait upon the guests. there is no general move made from the breakfast table as in the case of luncheon or dinner; the hostess generally remains until the whole of the guests have at least commenced breakfast, save in the case of very late comers, for whom she would not be expected to remain at the head of the breakfast-table. the guests leave the breakfast-table as soon as they have finished breakfast, without waiting for any intimation from the hostess to do so. chapter xxviii picnics and water-parties many things contribute to draw people into the country and away from town in the month of september; therefore there is a far larger number in each and every neighbourhood inclined for a picnic or a water-party than in the three previous months, june, july, and august. picnic parties are sometimes invitation parties, and on other occasions contribution parties, or parties which partake in a measure of the character of both. * * * * * =picnics by motor car and picnics by rail.=--almost every county has its show place, or its ruins, its ruined abbey or its castle, its romantic scenery, and its fine views, its hills or its dales, its waterfalls or its glens. the southern and western counties are as rich in these respects as the eastern counties are barren. when a picnic party is to proceed to its destination by rail, a saloon carriage is engaged beforehand, and arrangement is made at the nearest hotel to supply the party with luncheon at from s. to s. per head, according to the style of luncheon required; or hampers of provisions are taken under the charge of one or two men-servants. if the picnic party proceeds by road, a coach is the favourite mode of conveyance, whether driven by the owner or hired for the occasion. this is a more sociable way of going to a picnic than dividing the party into detachments and conveying them in separate carriages. this is sometimes unavoidable, and if the party is assembled for a start, it occasions no little discussion as to how the party should be divided and conveyed in the various carriages, and it takes no little tact to arrange this in a satisfactory manner--to overrule objections, and to make things work smoothly. again, the members of a picnic party occasionally find their way to the place of rendezvous independently of each other; but, although this plan saves trouble, it does not promote sociability, and parties of four or six are apt to clique together during the day, instead of making themselves generally agreeable. the provision question is a very important one, and the heads of a picnic party should arrange in concert what each is to bring in the way of fish, flesh, fowl, fruit, and wine. the services of one or two men-servants at a large picnic party are generally required to arrange the table, to open the wine, and last, but not least, to collect and repack the articles used in the way of plate, china, or glass. * * * * * =a picnic luncheon in september= is not always the _al fresco_ spread under the greenwood tree that it is in july, and oftener than not is held in the best parlour of a rustic inn, or, by permission, in a barn or shed, when the weather is not favourable for camping out. usually, when a large picnic party is arranged and got up by some three or four ladies and gentlemen, they divide the expenses of the entertainment between themselves, and determine how many shall be invited, each having the privilege of inviting a certain number. other picnics are got up on a different system, each person contributing a share towards the general expenses; but these gatherings are not so sociable as are the invitation picnics. invitation picnics where everything is done _en prince_ are extremely enjoyable and friendly affairs; they are big luncheons, given out-of-doors instead of indoors, at a distance instead of at home. but even these are not more pleasant than those well-arranged little picnics given by officers in country quarters, when the regimental coach conveys a favoured few to some favourite spot. * * * * * =water-parties.=--there are many ways of arranging a water-party at yachting stations and at all riverside places. at yachting stations, for instance, a sailing yacht is hired to convey a party of from eighteen to twenty-five to some point of interest on the coast, in which case luncheon and tea are provided at an hotel in the vicinity of the place where the party have landed, and the expenses are equally divided. not unfrequently, on the return journey, the yacht is becalmed, and does not reach its destination until between two and three the following morning. if it happens to be a fine moonlight night, this prolongation of a water-party is an additional source of enjoyment; but if there is no moon as well as no wind, and the calm betokens a storm, it is the reverse of pleasant. but these little _contretemps_, when they do occur, rather lend a zest to the day's pleasure, and are something to talk about afterwards. water-parties are often given by owners of yachts. these are invitation parties, and luncheon, tea, and sometimes dinner, are served on board, and the party land and stroll about, but return to the yacht to be entertained. picnic and water-parties in general include as many gentlemen as ladies, whether they are invitation or contribution parties, although sometimes a majority of ladies is unavoidable. ryde is a favourite station for water-parties, as the island itself, as well as the opposite coast, offer innumerable points of interest for picnicing, and many are able to combine the pleasures of the yacht with those of the launch in one and the same water-party; thus a party sails from ryde to yarmouth, isle of wight, and then proceeds in a steam, or other, launch to alum bay. launch parties are immensely popular, both on the river and on the coast. some picnic on board, and others on shore, as they feel disposed. * * * * * =canoe-parties= on coast and river are also popular with both ladies and gentlemen, and here again the useful launch is brought into requisition to convey the party home, as an hour and a half to two hours is an average time to paddle a canoe; after that time the party land either on the rocks or on the shore, and light a fire and boil the kettle for tea. if the tea-drinking and the after-tea ramble are unduly prolonged there is a chance, if on the coast, of the steam-launch running out of coal, and of the party having to return home in their own canoes considerably later than was expected, and not a little fatigued. chapter xxix juvenile parties =juvenile parties= form a prominent feature in the entertainments given during the winter months. there is scarcely a household the children of which are not indulged with one large party at least, while others are allowed as many as two or three children's parties during the winter months. these parties offer no little elasticity as to their arrangement, varying from a child's tea party, composed, perhaps, of five or six children, to a juvenile ball, or fancy dress ball. some mothers object, on principle, to the latter entertainments, on the ground that to give a large juvenile ball provokes a corresponding number of invitations, and that a round of such gaieties is not good for young children, either from a moral or from a hygienic point of view. morally, that such amusements are likely to destroy or impair the freshness of childhood, and to engender artificial ideas in their young minds in place of such as are natural and healthy, and that the imitation of the manners and bearing of their elders causes them to become miniature men and women, and divests them of the attributes of artless and unaffected childhood. * * * * * =the dresses worn by children= at these entertainments are of so elaborate a character--and so much pride is exhibited when wearing them--that a spirit of vanity and a love of dress are aroused at a prematurely early age. from a physical point of view, late hours, heated rooms, rich dainties, and constant excitement have a pernicious effect upon children. there is, of course, an opposite view taken by those who uphold juvenile balls; they consider that children are the better for associating with others of their own age outside of their own family circle, and that in the case of only children such association is calculated to render them lively and intelligent. another argument in favour of these juvenile parties is, that children who are in the habit of constantly attending them acquire self-possessed and confident manners, and that all shyness, _mauvaise honte_ and _gaucherie_, which distinguish many children when in the company of strangers, are dispelled by frequent intercourse with children of all ages. thus, in place of the noisy game of romps, the little gentlemen ask the little ladies to dance, pull costume bon-bons with their favourite partners, and offer them similar attentions throughout the evening. of course, there are shy little gentlemen and shy little ladies even at a juvenile ball; but it is the constant endeavour of those who accompany them, whether mammas, elder sisters, young aunts, or grown-up cousins, to persuade them to get the better of this diffidence, and to induce taciturn master tommy to dance with timid miss tiny. sometimes master tommy is obstinate, as well as taciturn, and his "won't" is as strong as his will. as with all things, so with children's parties, the medium course is, perhaps, the wisest to take, running into neither extreme--avoiding too much seclusion or overmuch gaiety, and rendering such gaiety and amusement suitable to the ages of the children invited. when an evening's entertainment consists of a series of amusements, it is a mistake to crowd too great a variety into the space of four hours, the usual limits of a child's party, for if so the programme has to be hurriedly gone through, and is hardly finished before the hour of departure. no little judgment is required when organising juvenile parties. the hours usually selected for children's parties, whether on a large or small scale, are from four to eight, five to nine, six to ten, or from seven to eleven. * * * * * =the children on their arrival= are received in the drawing-room. in most cases their relatives, either mothers or grown-up sisters, are asked to accompany them. there is great punctuality observed as regards the hour of arrival, and tea is usually served in the dining-room about half an hour after that named on the invitation card. the interim is generally passed by children in watching each fresh arrival, and in greeting their little acquaintances, comparing notes with each other as to the teas and the parties they are going to, or in amusing themselves with the toys belonging to the children of the house, which are usually arranged on tables for this purpose; and mechanical toys, walking and talking birds, etc., musical toys, picture-books, and dolls, and the latest and newest inventions in the way of playthings afford the little visitors an opportunity for becoming at ease with each other. tea is generally dispensed at one end of a long table, and coffee at the opposite end. the governess usually pours out the tea, and one of the daughters of the house the coffee; or failing her, the head nurse or lady's maid does so. dishes of pound, plum, and sponge cake are placed the length of the table, interspersed with plates of thin bread-and-butter, biscuits, and preserves; either the ladies of the family or the servants in attendance hand them to the children. when the relatives accompany the children tea is usually served to them in another room, but frequently they do not arrive until tea is over, and the nurses accompany the children to the house. * * * * * =amusements.=--the arrangements for the evening's amusement are regulated in a measure by the amount of accommodation a house affords, premising that boisterous games are not allowed in drawing-rooms; unless all valuable ornaments or things likely to be broken are removed from the rooms. if conjuring is one of the amusements provided, it generally takes place in the drawing-room immediately after tea, and lasts about an hour. a dancing-cloth is put down over the drawing-room carpet; rout seats or cane chairs are arranged in rows. the youngest children are seated in the first row. performing birds, performing dogs, or performing monkeys are also favourite amusements at these parties, and rank next to conjuring in the estimation of children. punch and judy or marionettes are popular drawing-room amusements, and either occupies the space of an hour. when a cinematograph show is the entertainment provided, it takes place in the dining-room or library, or perhaps in the housekeeper's room, if large enough for the purpose. dancing or games usually precede these amusements, and lasts from half to three-quarters of an hour; little girls dance with each other round and square dances, as little girls are, as a rule, more partial to dancing than are little boys, although they one and all, great and small, join with glee in a country dance, or in the tempête, or in "sir roger de coverley." not longer than an hour is devoted to dancing, and this is usually followed by games. impromptu charades is a favourite pastime with children; but to avoid the juvenile audience becoming weary and impatient during the preparation of the charades it is as well they should be amused with some quiet game, such as "forfeits," "cross questions and crooked answers," "proverbs," etc. at christmas and new year's parties the distribution of presents is a very important feature; christmas trees are now rather discarded in favour of greater novelties. "father christmas," "santa claus," "the fairy godmother," "the fairies' well," or the "lucky bag" and "the magic log," are some of the many devices for the distribution of presents; these popular characters are represented by grown-up persons, and provoke much wonder and admiration amongst children. the presents are usually given at the close of the evening. * * * * * =light refreshments= are provided in the dining-room--lemonade, wine and water, every description of cake, sandwiches, crystallized fruits, french plums, figs, almonds and raisins, oranges, etc. bon-bons containing paper caps, etc., which afford children much amusement, are usually provided. when a juvenile ball is given a supper is provided; otherwise light refreshments are considered sufficient, and are served twice during the evening. sometimes the children of the family, if old enough and clever enough, act a little play--some nursery fairy tale, condensed into one act, such as "beauty and the beast," "cinderella," etc.--which lasts about an hour, and is followed by dancing. when a juvenile fancy ball is given, one or two fancy quadrilles are arranged beforehand, to be danced by the children in costume. chapter xxx written invitations =writing letters of invitation=, and answering letters of invitation, often occupy far longer time in the composition than the writers would care to confess. the difficulty does not lie in an invitation itself or in accepting or refusing it, but rather in the form in which either should be couched, the words that should be chosen, and the expressions that should be used; one person is afraid of being too _empressé_, another of being too formal or too stiff; one is fearful of saying too little, another of saying too much. when invitations are issued on dinner cards or on "at home" cards, the note of acceptance should be as brief as is the printed card of invitation, and to the printed card requesting the pleasure of mrs. blank's company at dinner, the stereotyped answer is invariably mrs. blank has much pleasure in accepting mrs. dash's kind invitation for saturday the st, or mrs. blank regrets that a previous engagement will prevent her from having the pleasure of accepting mrs. dash's kind invitation for saturday, the st. as regards those invitations that refer to visits of some days' duration, those accustomed to give this description of entertainment, know exactly what to say and how to say it. the conventional civilities or affectionate cordialities, as the case may be, occur in their proper places; but one point is made clear in either case, namely, the length of the visit to be paid. there are people who are under the impression that to specify the exact length of a visit is in a degree inhospitable, and not sufficiently polite; and they, therefore, as a sort of compromise, use the ambiguous term "a few days" in lieu of distinctly defining the limit of these invitations. so far from vague invitations such as these being an advantage to invited guests, they not seldom place them at a disadvantage at more points than one. they are uncertain on what day they are to take their departure. they do not wish by leaving a day earlier to disarrange any little plans that their hostess may have contemplated for their amusement; neither do they wish to prolong their visit a day later, lest by so doing they should break in upon any engagements that she may have formed on her own account independently of her visitors. it is also not a little awkward for guests to tell their hostess that they think of leaving on thursday by . train. it might have suited the hostess very much better that her visitors should have left on the wednesday, and in her own mind she had perhaps intended that the visit should end on that day; but, having left the invitation open, more or less, by saying "a few days," there is nothing left for her but to sacrifice her own arrangements to the convenience of her guests, as without discourtesy she could hardly suggest to them that they should leave a day earlier than the one they had named, and the visitors remain unconscious of having in any way trespassed upon the good nature of their hostess. "a few days" is also an unsatisfactory wording of an invitation to visitors themselves; as a rule, it means three or four days, but there is also an uncertainty as to whether the fourth day should be taken or not. those who interpret "a few days" to mean three days, make their plans for departure accordingly; failing this, they are compelled to leave their plans open, and stay from three to five days, according as chance and circumstances may dictate. a lady would perhaps require a little addition to her wardrobe in the matter of a five days' visit over that of a three days' stay; but this is a trifling detail, although it helps to swell the list of minor inconveniences which are the result of vague invitations. there are, of course, exceptions to every rule, and there are people who use this phrase of "will you come and see us for a few days?" in the _bonâ fide_ sense of the word, and to whom it is immaterial whether their guests remain three days or six days; but such an elastic invitation as this is usually given to a relative, or to a very intimate friend, whose footing in the house is that of a relation, and with whom the hostess does not stand on ceremony, as far as her own engagements are concerned; and people on these friendly terms can talk over their departure with their hostess, and consult her about it without the faintest embarrassment. * * * * * =the most satisfactory invitation= is certainly the one that mentions the day of arrival and the day of departure. thus, after the _raison d'être_ of the invitation has been stated, the why and the wherefore of its being given follows the gist of the letter: "we hope you will come to us on wednesday the rd, and remain until the th." it is, of course, open to a hostess to ask her visitors to prolong their stay beyond the date named if she sees reason for so doing; but this is the exception rather than the rule in the case of short visits, and guests take their departure as a matter of course on the day named in the invitation. hostess and guests are perfectly at ease upon the subject, and guests do not feel on delicate ground with their hostess, or fear to outstay their welcome. when a visit has been paid it is polite, if not imperative, to write to the hostess and express the pleasure that has been derived from it. oftener than not some little matter arises which necessitates a note being written apart from this; but whether or not, good feeling and good taste would dictate that some such note should be written, and, as it can always include little matters of general interest in connection with the past visit, it need neither be over ceremonious nor coldly polite. * * * * * =to write a letter asking for an invitation=, or to answer a letter asking for an invitation, is in either case a difficult letter to write, as many have ere this discovered. when a married lady asks for an invitation for a young relative or friend staying with her, to some dance or "at home" to which she herself is invited, the note is simple enough, and the answer is generally a card of invitation or a written permission to bring her. again, in the case of asking for invitations for gentlemen, if a lady is going to a ball, she can without hesitation, ask for cards of invitation for one or two gentlemen friends of her own, mentioning their names in the note. in this case also the answer is generally in the affirmative, as men are always acquisitions at a ball. the awkwardness of the situation arises when a good-natured person is solicited to obtain an invitation to a smart ball for a lady and her daughters, or for the young ladies only, the latter knowing some one who would chaperon them if they could only get an invitation. if the lady who asks for the invitation is a fashionable ball-giver, the probability is that her request will be granted; but if the contrary, the reverse will most likely be the case. even when writing to an intimate friend, there is always a delicacy in asking for an invitation for a third person, and society appears to become, year after year, still more exclusive on this point. many people are reluctant, or decline altogether, to put themselves under an obligation of this nature, even for those with whom they are most intimate; it may be that the number of refusals good-natured people have received from their friends when trying to render services of this description, have made them chary of putting themselves forward again in a similar manner: it is chilling to be told that the list is over full, or that so many people have been refused already, or that there is not a card to spare. but a few years ago a ball was not considered a success unless it was an over-crowded one; the popularity of the ball-giver was shown by the guests scarcely being able to find standing-room. thus, invitations were given right and left to the friends of those who asked for them. but the fashion of to-day is to style a crowded ball-room a "bear-garden," and to confine the invitations, with but very few exceptions, to those who are strictly on the visiting list of the ball-giver; and pretty girls may sigh in vain for an invitation to a ball given even by a relative or acquaintance of their own, if not on their visiting list. still, invitations are constantly asked for by people for their friends, and sometimes they are given and sometimes they are refused, as the case may be, but much depends upon the position of the one who solicits the favour. if the giver of an entertainment wishes to oblige the petitioner, she will stretch a point to do so; if not, she will write a polite note of excuse, giving one of the reasons before mentioned. it is thoroughly understood people do not ask for invitations for themselves, whatever they may do for their friends, and that they would not do so unless they were themselves invited. living at a distance modifies, however, this latter rule; and friends in the country often ask for invitations for friends in town, and _vice versâ_. * * * * * =dinner invitations= are, as a matter of course, never asked for; but invitations to garden-parties, afternoon "at homes," and afternoon teas, are frequently asked for and readily given. some are intimate enough at the house where they visit to take a relative or friend with them to those afternoon gatherings without observing the punctiliousness of asking for an invitation; others, on less intimate terms, do not venture upon doing so. in all cases when an invitation is asked for, a hostess should never neglect to send a reply, and should not take for granted that her friends will naturally understand that silence gives consent, for under the circumstances it is very possible to interpret it to signify a refusal. chapter xxxi refusing invitations many reasons exist for declining invitations other than the plea of a prior engagement. "mrs. m. regrets ('much regrets,' or 'very much regrets') that a previous engagement prevents her having the pleasure of accepting mrs. n.'s 'invitation,' or 'kind invitation.'" when on more intimate terms, mrs. m. should write in the first person when declining an invitation. it is an open question whether the nature of the engagement should be stated or not. even intimate friends often confine themselves to the statement of the bare fact only that a prior engagement exists; others, on the contrary, state the nature of the engagement, and there is no doubt that this latter course considerably softens a refusal and lessens the disappointment experienced, and therefore, when practicable, should always be followed. when a prior engagement cannot be made the basis of a refusal, then the refusal must rest on other lines; ill health, a severe cold, etc., are valid excuses. failing these, the refusal should be as follows:--"mrs. z. regrets she is unable to accept mrs. x.'s kind invitation, etc." it occasionally happens that it is desirable to break an engagement, circumstances having changed the aspect of things. the invitation, perhaps, was a verbal one, and a refusal was not easy at the moment. again, impromptu invitations are sometimes refused, having been too hastily accepted--the servant who brought the note waited for an answer, and on the impulse of the moment an affirmative answer was given; the wife had not time to consult her husband, and accepted for him as well as for herself; or perhaps some potent domestic reason that could not be explained induced a subsequent refusal. the fashionable world accepts refusals as a matter of course, and fills up the gaps with other invitations. refusals of dinner invitations from those for whom a dinner party was partly originated are always disappointing, even to the most popular of dinner givers, in the same way that the absence of the principal neighbour from a county entertainment is felt to cast a shadow over the proceedings of the day. although printed cards of acceptance and of refusal are in general use, yet many cases arise which render written refusals imperative. as regards the refusal of invitations asked for, such requests should not be made unless on very safe ground, and with a certainty of meeting with acquiescence, yet occasionally these requests are either unwelcome or inadmissible, and refusals are consequently given; but, unless worded with tact and good nature, they are often the cause of strained relations between both friends and acquaintances. chapter xxxii walking, driving, and riding =the usual hours for walking= in the park are from until . a.m. the hours for afternoon walking and sitting in the park are from to p.m. during the summer months. the fashionable hours for walking in the park on sunday are from to p.m., both in winter and summer; and from to p.m. in the summer months. married ladies can, if they please, walk out unaccompanied or unattended in places of public resort in town or on the parades of fashionable watering-places; but married ladies, especially if they are young, usually prefer the society of another lady, not so much, perhaps, for propriety as for companionship, as to walk alone, either in town or at fashionable watering-places, renders a lady more or less conspicuous, especially if she is attractive and well dressed. a young lady can now also walk by herself in the park for the purpose of joining her friends and acquaintances, both in the morning and in the afternoon, but she should not sit alone. again, young ladies may walk alone in the fashionable streets, but they should not loiter when alone at shop-windows as they pass, but walk at a quick pace from shop to shop, or from street to street. in the quiet neighbourhoods of towns, suburban towns, and watering-places, young ladies walk unaccompanied and unattended to visit their friends residing in the near vicinity of their homes, or to attend classes, or for the purpose of shopping, etc. indeed, great independence is generally accorded in this respect, the line being drawn at evening hours--that is to say, at walking alone after dusk. at watering-places, and at all public promenades, it is usual for gentlemen to join ladies with whom they are acquainted, and to walk with them for a short time when it is apparent that their company is desired, but not otherwise. ladies and gentlemen, whether related or not, should never walk arm-in-arm, unless the lady is an elderly one, or an invalid, and requires this support. * * * * * =driving.=--from to . are the received hours for the afternoon drive during the summer, and from . to . during the winter. the following rules as regards entering and leaving a carriage apply to a motor-car or an electric brougham as far as the construction, make, and size of the same render it possible. when driving in an open or close carriage or motor-car it is quite immaterial whether the owner occupies the right-hand or the left-hand seat. the seat she occupies depends upon which side she enters, as the lady driving with her should enter before her and should seat herself on the furthest seat. a visitor should always enter the motor-car or carriage before the hostess. when three ladies enter a motor-car or carriage the young unmarried lady should take the back seat and the two married ladies should occupy the front seat; this is a matter of courtesy on the part of a young lady due to married ladies and not strictly demanded by etiquette. a husband should sit with his back to the horses, or by the side of the chauffeur in the case of a motor-car, when a lady is driving with his wife. a gentleman should be the first to get out of a motor-car or carriage, with a view to assisting the ladies to do so. as a rule the hostess should leave the carriage or car after her guest and not before her, unless it is more convenient to do otherwise. when a lady is merely calling for an acquaintance to take her for a drive, she should not descend from her car or carriage for the purpose of allowing her to enter it before her. in the afternoon young ladies may drive alone in the public thoroughfares, unaccompanied by married ladies. it is permissible for a young lady to drive alone in the park or in the streets. a married lady can, as a matter of course, drive unaccompanied. it would be unconventional were a lady to drive alone with a gentleman in his motor-car, unless he were nearly related to her, or unless she were engaged to be married to him. it is usual for the owner of a carriage to sit with her face to the horses; when a married lady is driving with her she should sit beside her. when young ladies are driving with her in addition to the married lady they should sit with their backs to the horses. when a lady is driving with her husband, and a young lady accompanies her, she should not offer the front seat to the young lady, but should retain it herself, and even should the offer be made, a young lady should not avail herself of it. * * * * * =riding.=--as regards riding in town, the hours for practice in the row are from to a.m. in summer and to a.m. in winter, for inexperienced riders and beginners; young ladies ride with a riding-master or with a riding-mistress, or with a relative, as the case may be. the hours for riding in the park range from . to . a.m. it is thoroughly understood that a lady may ride in the park alone--that is, unaccompanied or unattended--for the purpose of joining her friends. it is argued, in these days of woman's emancipation, that no possible harm or annoyance can arise from the fact of a lady riding unattended, beyond the always possible chance of an accident. although great latitude is now allowed to young ladies with regard to riding alone, many parents still prefer that their daughters should be attended by their grooms. two ladies frequently ride together, unaccompanied by a gentleman and unattended by a groom. chapter xxxiii bowing as regards the recognition of friends or acquaintances, it is the privilege of a lady to take the initiative, by being the first to bow. a gentleman should not raise his hat to a lady until she has accorded him this mark of recognition, although the act of bowing is a simultaneous action on the part of both lady and gentleman, as a lady would hardly bestow a bow upon a gentleman not prepared to return it. the bow between intimate acquaintances takes the character, when given by a lady, of a familiar nod in place of a stiff bow. * * * * * =when a gentleman returns the bow= of a lady he should do so by distinctly taking his hat off and as quickly replacing it, not merely raising it slightly, as formerly, and if he is an intimate acquaintance or friend, he should act in a similar manner. in france and on the continent generally, the rule of bowing is reversed, and the gentleman is the first to bow to the lady, instead of the lady to the gentleman. between ladies but slightly acquainted, the one of highest rank should be the first to bow to the other; between ladies of equal rank it is immaterial which of the two bows first. * * * * * =a lady should not bow= to persons only known to her by sight, although she may frequently have seen them in the company of her friends. a lady should bow to a gentleman, either a friend or acquaintance, even when he is walking with either a lady or gentleman, with whom she is unacquainted. gentlemen do not raise their hats in recognition of each other, but simply nod, when not walking with ladies, save when a vast difference exists in rank or age. when a gentleman meets another--a friend of his--walking with a lady or ladies, with whom he himself is unacquainted, he should raise his hat and look straight before him, not at the lady or ladies. a lady should not bow to another who, being a stranger to her, has addressed a few remarks to her at an afternoon party, as the fact of meeting at the house of a mutual friend does not constitute an acquaintanceship, and does not authorise a future bowing acquaintance. ladies, as a rule, are not too ready to bow to those whom they have merely conversed with in a casual way. in the first place, they are not quite certain of being remembered, and nothing is more disconcerting and disagreeable than to bow to a person who does not return it through forgetfulness of the one who has given it, or through shortsightedness, or through actual intention. short-sighted people are always offending in the matter of not bowing, and almost every third person, comparatively speaking, complains of being more or less short-sighted; thus it behoves ladies to discover for themselves the strength and length of sight possessed by their new acquaintances, or the chances are that their bow may never be returned, or they may continue to labour under the impression that they have received a cut direct; thus many pleasant acquaintances are lost through this misapprehension, and many erroneous impressions created. * * * * * =a bowing acquaintance= is a difficult and tiresome one to maintain for any length of time, when opportunities do not arise for increasing it. the irksomeness of keeping it up is principally experienced by persons meeting day after day in the park or on public promenades, riding, driving, or walking, more especially when it is tacitly understood that the acquaintance should not develop into a further acquaintance. it would be considered discourteous to discontinue a bowing acquaintance which has once been commenced. to know a gentleman by sight through having frequently seen him at balls and parties, does not give a lady the right to bow to him, even though she may have stood beside him for some twenty minutes or so on a crowded staircase, and may have received some slight civility from him. a lady who has received a little service from a stranger would gladly acknowledge it at any subsequent meeting by a pleasant bow, but as bowing to a gentleman argues an acquaintance with him, and as in such cases as these an acquaintance does not exist, etiquette provides no compromise in the matter. therefore, if a young lady takes her own line, and rather than appear ungracious bows to a gentleman who has not been introduced to her either directly or indirectly, it is a breach of etiquette on her part; and as to do an unconventional thing is not desirable, the innumerable little services which ladies receive in general society are not further acknowledged beyond the thanks expressed at the moment of their being received. * * * * * =bows vary materially:= there is the friendly bow, the distant bow, the ceremonious bow, the deferential bow, the familiar bow, the reluctant bow, and so on, according to the feelings that actuate individuals in their intercourse with each other. when a bowing acquaintance only exists between ladies and gentlemen, and they meet perhaps two or three times during the day, and are not sufficiently intimate to speak, they do not usually bow more than once, when thus meeting in park or promenade. chapter xxxiv the cockade =cockades are worn= by servants in livery of officers in the army and navy, and all those who hold his majesty's commission; also lords-lieutenants and deputy-lieutenants. retainers of the crown are entitled to the use of the cockade as a badge of the reigning dynasty. the fact that cockades are now so frequently worn by men-servants may be accounted for thus: deputy-lieutenants are far more numerous now than was formerly the case; almost every country gentleman is a deputy-lieutenant, and consequently his servants are entitled to the use of the cockade. the privilege of appearing in uniform at levées instead of in court dress has been and is an incentive to many to seek for and obtain the appointment of deputy-lieutenant. again, all justices of the peace claim the use of the cockade as being "civil retainers of the crown"; and although there is no clearly defined rule on this head, according to the late sir albert woods, garter-king-at-arms, it has long been tacitly conceded to them. the custom of livery servants wearing cockades dates from the commencement of the eighteenth century, and was at first purely a military distinction. the cockade worn by the servants of the members of the royal family, and by all who claim to be of royal descent, is slightly different in shape from that known as the badge of the reigning dynasty, _i.e._ the hanoverian badge, and is round in shape and without a fan. the military cockade is of an oval shape, terminating in a fan. the civil cockade is of an oval shape also, but without the fan. the naval cockade is identical with the civil cockade. the white cockade is the badge of the house of stuart. the black cockade that of the house of hanover. the servants of foreign ambassadors wear cockades in colour according to their nationalities. black and white for germany; black and yellow for austria; the tricolour for france; scarlet for spain; blue and white for portugal; and black and yellow for belgium. the word cockade, according to a well-known authority, was borrowed from the french _cocarde_, having originally been applied to the plumes of cock's feathers worn by croatian soldiers serving in the french army. some such plume, or in its place a bunch of ribbons, came to be used in pinning up the flaps of the hat into a cocked position, and thus gradually the word passed for the name of the "cocked" hat itself. chapter xxxv country-house visits september is actually the commencement of the country visiting season, the few visits that are paid in august are but a prelude to the programme that is to follow during the succeeding five months. * * * * * =the visitors received in august= are principally relatives. the exceptions to the august family parties are the august cricket parties in the counties where cricket is made a great feature during that month, where the cricket weeks and consequent large country-house parties are of annual recurrence, and where balls and private theatricals form part of the week's amusement. it often follows that people visit at the same houses year after year, they arrange their tour of visits with regard to those invitations which they annually receive; new acquaintances and new houses whereat to visit are added to the list from time to time and take the place of those which, as a matter of course, drop out of it. sometimes the invitations fit into each other admirably, like the pieces of a puzzle; at others there is an awkward interval of a day, or two or three days, to be filled up between leaving one house and arriving at another. if the hostess is, in either case, a relation or an intimate friend, this difficulty is easily surmounted by staying on at one house until the day fixed for arrival at another, or _vice versâ_; but if a guest is on ceremony with her hostess, or if, as is often the case, new arrivals are expected for the following week, the alternative is to spend a few days in town, as although the house where the next visit to be paid might be within twenty or thirty miles of the house the visitor is about to leave, it would be unusual to spend the interval at an hotel in the adjacent town, as to do so might reflect upon the hospitality of the hostess. on the other hand, invitations are sometimes given independently of dates, but this friendly style of invitation is not given when a large party is invited, and it is understood to mean that the hostess may be quite alone, or may have guests staying with her, as the case may be. this form of invitation is frequently given to people visiting in scotland, on account of the great distance from town. it is a very general custom to give shooting parties the third week in september, harvest permitting. if the harvest is late on account of unfavourable weather the shooting parties are postponed until the first week in the ensuing month. the guests, or at least the crack guns, are usually invited for partridge driving, which is what partridge shooting now actually amounts to. there are large shooting parties and small shooting parties, shooting parties to which royalty is invited and shooting parties restricted to intimate friends or relations, but in either case the period is the same, three days' shooting. * * * * * =if a party is limited to five guns=, seven ladies is the average number invited, the hostess relying upon a neighbour or a neighbour's son to equalise the balance at the dinner-table. the success of house-parties mainly depends upon people knowing each other, or fraternising when they are introduced or have made each other's acquaintance. the ladies of a country-house party are expected, as a rule, to amuse themselves, more or less, during the day. after luncheon there is usually a drive to a neighbouring town, a little shopping to be done there, or a call to be paid in the neighbourhood by some of the party, notably the married ladies, the young ladies being left to their own resources. at the close of a visit game is offered to those of the shooters to whom it is known that it will be acceptable. the head gamekeeper is usually instructed to put up a couple of brace of pheasants and a hare. but in some houses even this custom is not followed, and the whole of the game killed, with the exception of what is required for the house, finds its way into the market, both the local market and the london market. * * * * * shooting parties as a rule give a hostess little anxiety on the score of finding amusement for the ladies of the party, as so many aids out of doors are at her command at this season of the year. this is a great advantage, as although some few ladies possessing great strength of nerve have taken up shooting as an amusement and pastime and acquit themselves surprisingly well in this manly sport, yet ladies in general are not inclined for so dangerous a game, and even those intrepid ladies who have learnt how to use their little gun would never be permitted to make one or two of a big shooting party, even were they so inclined. the hostess and the ladies of the party invariably join the shooters at luncheon, and some of the ladies go out with the shooters in the morning to watch their prowess in the field; but this entails a great deal of walking where partridge shooting is concerned, which is quite another thing to covert shooting in november and december. * * * * * =a good hostess has great opportunities= for distinguishing herself when entertaining a country-house party, from the arrival of the first motor-car to the departure of the last. her consideration and tact are so successfully exerted that somehow her guests always find themselves doing exactly what they like best and in company with those who are most congenial to them, to say nothing of the comfort of the general domestic arrangements, which seem to have been arranged exclusively for their convenience. if they wish to drive, there is a carriage or motor-car at their disposal; if they prefer a constitutional, there is some one very agreeable desirous of walking with them. the daily papers are always to be found, the post-bag goes out at a most convenient hour by the hand of a special messenger, the dinner is of the best, and the evening is of the cheeriest. bridge as a rule is played in most houses, and several tables are arranged in the drawing-room to accommodate the would-be players. occasionally, when the birds are wild and sport is slack, a sort of picnic luncheon is held in the vicinity of a keeper's lodge, under the shade of some wide-spreading trees, when the ladies join the party; but in september keen sportsmen rather despise this playing at shooting, and resent the interruption caused by the company of ladies at luncheon, and prefer to take it in the rough and smoke the while. every day of the week is not thus given up to shooting, and there are few owners of manors who would care to provide five days' consecutive sport for their guests, and two days' hard shooting is probably followed by what is called an idle day. on these off days in september the hostess often gives a garden-party, or takes her guests to one given by a neighbour at some few miles distant; or she holds a stall at a bazaar and persuades her guests to assist her in disposing of her stock; or she induces her party to accompany her to some flower-show in which she takes a local interest; or the host and one or two of the best shots start early after breakfast to shoot with a neighbour, and the remainder of the guests drive over to a picturesque ruin, where they picnic, and return home in time for the eight-o'clock dinner. if the owner of a mansion has a coach the whole party is conveyed on it, otherwise the motor-cars are brought into requisition, while saddle horses are provided for those who care to ride. a country-house party occasionally resolves itself into two or more cliques, as far as the ladies are concerned; gentlemen, as a rule, are not much given to this sort of thing. on the first evening, as soon as the ladies have left the dining-room for the drawing-room, these little cliques are tacitly formed, and continue unbroken until the close of the visit. there are many reasons which call these cliques into existence--old intimacies revived, new acquaintanceships to be strengthened, unwelcome acquaintanceships to be avoided, and so on. these cliques are by no means agreeable to the hostess, indeed, quite the contrary--but she is powerless to prevent their being formed, and she is herself sometimes drawn into one or other of them, and sometimes altogether excluded from them. any one who is at all conversant with country-house visiting is aware how thoroughly the influence of the clique pervades the atmosphere of the drawing-room; and yet, perhaps, at country-house parties more friendships are formed and intimacies cemented than at any other gatherings. * * * * * =the evening amusements= at country-house parties vary very much according to the proclivities of the hostess or those of her daughters. at some houses dancing is the order of things for a couple of hours or so after dinner, but this mode of spending the evening does not always commend itself to the gentlemen, who, after a long day's walking through wet turnips and over heavy ploughed land, or a hard day's riding over stiff fences, rather incline towards the _dolce far niente_ of a luxurious armchair than to the pleasures of the mazy valse, and are proportionately grateful to a hostess who does not call upon them to undergo any further exercise than what they have already gone through for their own pleasure. in most country-house parties bridge forms the chief if not the only amusement, and is played not only after dinner but in the afternoon also. amateur theatricals and _tableaux vivants_, impromptu charades, thought reading, conjuring, etc., are fashionable amusements and easy of accomplishment: the first-named of these demands considerable study and plenty of time for rehearsal, therefore theatricals are generally engaged in when the party is composed of relatives rather than of acquaintances, and when the visit would be perhaps prolonged to ten days or a fortnight. some hostesses prefer keeping late hours to early hours, and do not retire until after twelve; this does not commend itself to the gentlemen, as they are not supposed to adjourn to the smoking-room until the ladies have left the drawing-room, and gentlemen like to spend a couple of hours in the smoking-room after dinner. * * * * * =in hunting counties= the breakfast is usually an early one, varying from nine o'clock to half-past nine, according to whether the ride to covert is likely to be a long or a short one; but, as a rule, the nominal breakfast hour is . o'clock. a certain amount of latitude is allowed to guests as regards coming down to breakfast; they do not assemble in the morning-room, but all make their way to the breakfast-room, and seat themselves at once at table, while many ladies breakfast in their own rooms. * * * * * =in scotland, an invitation to shoot= often means a visit of three weeks. the accommodation of the shooting-box or lodge may be limited or primitive, and it is very often both of these; but it matters very little to the sportsman what sort of bed he sleeps on, or how he is made to rough it, providing the grouse are plentiful. on some of the moors there are but cottages and farmhouses for the occupation of the sportsmen, but on others the houses are excellent, and let with the moors, as many take a moor season after season and invite their friends to shoot between the th of august and october. the grand shooting parties that are annually given in scotland by owners of large estates and fine shootings extends throughout the whole of the shooting season, and guests come and go without intermission; as one leaves another arrives. certain houses or castles are much gayer than others; to some very few ladies are asked, the majority of the guests being gentlemen--probably the hostess and two ladies and eight men--in others, the numbers are more equal; in others, again, the party sometimes consists entirely of men with a host and no hostess. ladies generally ask their most intimate friends to scotland rather than acquaintances, as they are left to themselves the whole of the day, dinner being often postponed until nine o'clock, on account of the late return of the sportsmen. * * * * * =south of the tweed, september invitations= are usually given for three or four days, from tuesday till saturday; married couples, young ladies, and young men, are all asked, and the ladies find amusement in lawn-tennis, or in attending or assisting at some neighbouring bazaar or fancy fair, as in this month county bazaars are very popular, and the visitors at one house lend their services in conjunction with the visitors at another, to hold stalls at a bazaar got up by a third influential lady; and thus the stalls are well stocked, and the fashionable stall-holders give an impetus to the whole affair. ladies see very little of the gentlemen between breakfast and dinner. the shooters start about eleven, and seldom return much before seven. when it is dark at four, those who prefer ladies' society and tea to the smoking-room and billiards, make themselves presentable and join the ladies. * * * * * =as regards the etiquette of visiting at bachelors' houses.=--it is thoroughly understood that ladies should be accompanied by their husbands, and young ladies by their father and mother, or by a married couple with whom they are on terms of great intimacy, in which case the married lady acts as chaperon to the young ladies. young ladies cannot stay at the house of a bachelor unless chaperoned by a married lady, or by a female relative of their host. a widow and her daughter could of course join a party of ladies staying at a bachelor's house, or stay on a visit to him were he alone, or entertaining bachelor friends. when a bachelor gives a country-house party, and nominally does the honours himself, occasionally one of the married ladies of the party tacitly takes the lead. the position of a young widower is similar to that of a bachelor as regards society. later in life, the contrary is the case; a widower with grown-up daughters gives entertainments for them, and the eldest daughter does the honours, thus reducing the position again to that of host and hostess. chapter xxxvi hunting and shooting =ladies in the hunting-field.=--there is no arena better fitted to display good riding on the part of women than the hunting-field, and no better opportunity for the practice of this delightful accomplishment and for its thorough enjoyment. it is urged, however, that it argues cruelty of disposition and unwomanly feeling to join in the pursuit of a poor, miserable, hunted fox, and worse still to be in at the death, and that women are liable to be carried away by the enthusiasm of the hour to applaud and to witness what they would otherwise shrink from. this argument has a certain weight, and deters many from actually hunting who would otherwise join in the sport, and they make a compromise by regularly attending the meets, and even witnessing a throw-off of a fox-break covert. every strong point that a rider possesses is brought out in the field. the canter in the row, the trot through the country-lanes, or the long country ride are very feeble substitutes for the intense enjoyment experienced when taking part in a good run; the excitement felt and shared in by the whole field exhilarates and stimulates, and renders fatigue a thing out of the question, not to be thought of until the homeward ride is well over. considering the number of ladies who hunt, the accidents that occur are surprisingly few, for the obvious reason that ladies do not attempt to hunt unless their skill as good horsewomen is beyond all question. their husbands, their fathers, their brothers would not allow them to jeopardise their lives, unless their riding and experience, their courage, their nerve, and their instruction justified the attempt. there are also two other weighty considerations necessary to success--a good mount, and a good lead. the father or husband invariably selects the one, and the friend--either of the fair rider or of the husband or brother--gives the all-important lead, without which few ladies venture upon hunting, save those few who are independent enough to cut out their own work. ladies, who are naturally fond of riding, cannot always indulge in the pleasure of hunting, on the ground of expense, for instance. a lady may possess a fairly good horse for ordinary purposes, to ride in the row, or for country exercise, but very few gentlemen of moderate means can afford to keep hunters for the ladies of their families as well as for themselves, although, in fiction, this is freely done. if a lady has one good hunter of her own, she may expect two days' hunting a week, providing the country is not too stiff, and the meets are fairly convenient. occasionally, a mount may be obtained from a good-natured friend, whose stud is larger than his requirements; but this is not to be depended upon in every-day life, and popular ladies and first-rate riders are more in the way of receiving these attentions than the general run of ladies. as regards the presence of young ladies in the hunting-field, there are two opinions respecting its advisability, apart from the question of whether it is or is not a feminine pursuit. the long ride home in the november and december twilight, in the company of some member of the hunt, who has become the young lady's cavalier for the time being, is not to the taste of many parents; chaperonage must of necessity be greatly dispensed with in the hunting-field, and this is an objection which many fathers advance against their daughters hunting. some husbands entertain equally strict views on this head, and are of opinion that the boldest rider and the best lead to follow in the field is not always the guest they would most desire to see at their own firesides. * * * * * =hunt-breakfasts.=--a lady should not go to a hunt-breakfast at the house of a country gentleman if unacquainted with him, or some member of his family, unless asked to do so by a mutual acquaintance. all gentlemen riding to hounds, whether strangers to the host or not, have the privilege of entering any house where a hunt-breakfast is given and accepting the hospitality offered. the breakfast, which is in reality a cold collation, with the addition of wine, liqueurs, ale, etc., is usually laid out in the dining-room, and no ceremony whatever is observed; the gentlemen come and go as they please. the mistress of the house should either be present at a hunt-breakfast and receive the ladies who arrive in the hall or dining-room, or she should receive them in the drawing-room, where refreshments should be brought to them. when a hostess intends riding to hounds, she is often mounted before her neighbours arrive, in which case she invites them to enter the house for refreshments, if they care to do so. * * * * * =gentlemen who go down into a county= for a few days' hunting only seldom wear "pink," and prefer riding to hounds in black coats. the members of the hunt wear pink as a matter of course, but it is considered better taste for a stranger to wear a black coat than to appear in a _new_, _very new_, unspecked red one. * * * * * =sporting terms.=--persons unversed in matters appertaining to "country life" and "country sports," town bred, and who have had little or no opportunity of acquiring a knowledge of the subject from personal experience, can hardly fail to commit many and various mistakes when brought into contact with sportsmen and their sports. a knowledge of sporting matters and sporting terms, and the etiquette observed by sportsmen, is only arrived at by associating with those thoroughly conversant with the subject, and with whom "sport" has formed part of their education so to speak. * * * * * =the shooting season commences= on the th of august with grouse shooting in the north of england, scotland, and ireland. partridge shooting commences on the st of september and terminates on the st of february. the finest partridge shooting is allowed by general consent to be found in the eastern counties. partridge driving does not take place until january to any great extent. * * * * * =pheasant shooting= commences the st of october and terminates the st of february. * * * * * =hares= may be shot up to the st of march. * * * * * =rabbits= may be shot all the year round. * * * * * =rooks= are shot during the spring and summer. * * * * * it is difficult to make a would-be sportsmen comprehend the strict etiquette maintained between the owners of manors; that is to say, he would think nothing of crossing the boundary of his host's manor, "gun in hand," if he felt inclined to follow a bird or hare he had wounded, oblivious of the fact that, in the first place, the greatest punctiliousness is observed between gentlemen in the matter of trespassing on each other's land when out shooting; and, that unless the greatest intimacy existed, a sportsman would hardly venture to pick up his dead bird if it had fallen on a neighbour's manor, and would on no account look for a wounded bird, but for a dead one only. in the second place he would carefully observe the rule of leaving his gun on his own side of the boundary, and would certainly not carry it with him to his neighbour's land. those are points that strangers invited for a few days' shooting very often fall foul of, creating thereby much unpleasantness for their host through their ignorance and inexperience. * * * * * =when a gentleman is invited to join= a shooting-party, it would not be necessary for him to take a loader with him, as his host would find a man to perform that office for him, unless he had a servant with him capable of performing that duty; but if he were residing in the neighbourhood he would, as a matter of course, take his loader with him when asked to join a shooting-party, and in both cases he would shoot with two guns; as to shoot with one gun only causes a vexatious delay. a frequent cause of offence to sportsmen is for a gentleman to be noisy when out shooting, that is to say, to be "loudly talkative," or "boisterously merry," or given to indulge in exclamations when a bird rises, or when a bird is missed; your true sportsman maintains a strict silence. there are numberless other points relating to field sports wherein the "inexperienced sportsman" is apt to give offence, but which would take up too much space to enter into in a work of this description. * * * * * =the fees, or tips to the gamekeepers=, vary from s. to £ , according to the number of days' shooting enjoyed or the extent of the bag. for one day's partridge-shooting the tip to the head gamekeeper would be a sovereign; for a good day's pheasant-shooting, as much as two sovereigns would probably be given. a gentleman who does not tip or fee up to this mark is not likely to find himself too well placed in a battue. the cost of a game licence is £ , and lasts twelve months, from st august to the st of july the following year, or £ from the st of august to the st of october, or £ from the st of november to the st of july in the following year, or £ for fourteen days. chapter xxxvii shaking hands the etiquette with regard to shaking hands is not an open question, it is distinct enough and simple enough for all exigencies, but yet there is individual temperament to be taken into account which in many drives etiquette out of the field, if by etiquette is understood not merely stiff propriety of action, but politeness in the truest sense of the word, and doing that which is exactly the right thing to do. etiquette rules when to shake hands and when not to do so, when to bow and when not to bow; but in spite of this knowledge, which is within every one's reach, there are many mistakes made on this head. for instance, one does not offer to shake hands when expected to do so; another offers to shake hands three times; one displays unwarrantable warmth in shaking hands; another extends two fingers only; one shakes hands in a limp and uncomfortable manner, and takes the extended hand merely to drop it; another literally pumps the extended hand, or crushes the rings into a lady's fingers when shaking hands with her. * * * * * =a lady who does not shake hands= when expected to do so is actuated by one or other of the following reasons--she did not wish to shake hands with a certain acquaintance, and preferred to bow only, or she was not aware whether she should have shaken hands or not. the gentlemen who shake hands with great warmth and _empressement_ are two distinct individuals; the one is cordial and large-hearted, and has a friendly grasp for every one--a grasp indicative of kindliness, geniality, and good fellowship--the other wishes to ingratiate himself in certain quarters, and loses no opportunity of demonstratively shaking hands, but no one is deceived by this spurious imitation of the real thing. * * * * * =when a lady gives but two fingers= to people whom she does not care about, she is always a person who fancies herself, and who feels very fine; she doubtless is, but her good breeding and her good feeling are both in question when she takes this method of showing the superiority of herself and her position over that of other people. there are other eccentricities indulged in by different people who shake hands when they should not, and people who do not shake hands when they should. it depends upon whom a lady is introduced to, or upon who is introduced to her, whether she should or should not shake hands. she should not shake hands on being casually introduced to a person altogether a stranger to her; but yet there are so many occasions when it is both proper and correct to shake hands on being introduced, that the rule on this head is a very elastic one. for instance, a host and hostess should shake hands with every stranger introduced to them at their house. a lady should shake hands on being introduced to the relations of her intended husband. a lady should shake hands on being introduced to the friend of an intimate friend. when a lady has entered into conversation to any extent with some one to whom she has been introduced, and finds she has much in common with her, she should shake hands on taking leave; but if she has only exchanged a few commonplace sentences, a bow would be all that is necessary. a lady usually takes the initiative with regard to shaking hands as with bowing; but in reality it is a spontaneous movement, made by both lady and gentleman at the same moment, as the hand ought not to be extended or the bow given unless expected and instantaneously reciprocated. a young lady should not offer to shake hands with one not expectant of the honour. * * * * * =shaking hands on taking leave= is, with some few people, a graceful and pleasant fashion of saying good-bye; intimate friends hold the hand while the last words are being said. women hold each other's hands thus on parting, and some few men take each other's hands; but with them it is rather a foreign fashion, and is principally followed by those who have lived much on the continent; for, as a rule, an englishman prefers the hearty english shake of the hand. a lady having once shaken hands with another, should continue to do so at subsequent meetings, unless a coolness of manner warns her that a bow would be more acceptable. with regard to shaking hands at a dinner-party with acquaintances: if the dinner-party is a small one, and there is time to shake hands, it is correct to do so; but when there is little time before dinner, and no good opportunity for shaking hands, bows to acquaintances at distant parts of the room, or when seated at the dinner-table, are sufficient recognition for the time being. at an evening-party it depends upon opportunity whether acquaintances shake hands or not. * * * * * =the fashion of raising the arm= when shaking hands is followed by very few in the exaggerated style in which it was first introduced, but a modification of it has distinctly become the fashion in general society. the hand, instead of being extended straight out, is now offered on a line or parallel with the chest, a trifle higher than the old-fashioned style, and the fingers of the hand are held and gently shaken, but the palm is not grasped or even touched. chapter xxxviii chaperons and dÉbutantes an unmarried lady, unless she be a maiden-lady of a recognised age and standing, cannot act as an orthodox chaperon; but, on the other hand, a young married lady could do so with the greatest propriety, as could a brother from the age of eighteen; of other relatives it is not necessary to speak. young ladies are now frequently asked to dinner-parties without a chaperon, a hostess constituting herself chaperon for the occasion. dances are also given to which it is understood chaperons are _not_ invited, the hostess again acting in that capacity, but at large balls and dances chaperonage is considered indispensable for young ladies. at theatres and evening concerts chaperonage is distinctly required; but at morning concerts and _matinées_, companionship rather than chaperonage is needed. as regards morning hours. young ladies may now walk together in the park and elsewhere; ride together, attend classes together or alone, go to luncheon or afternoon tea alone or together at the houses of friends and acquaintances, quite unaccompanied by a chaperon. they may also visit at country houses without a chaperon, the hostess performing this duty. at all out-door gatherings, such as garden-parties, tennis-parties, cricket-matches, golf-meetings, etc., the chaperonage required is of the slightest, and for which any might be made available. chapter xxxix presentations at the viceregal court, dublin castle the drawing-rooms at dublin castle are held by the lord-lieutenant of ireland and his wife, in st. patrick's hall, at . o'clock p.m. * * * * * =a lady who desires= a presentation at the viceregal court must be presented by a lady who has herself been presented thereat, and it is necessary that she herself should be present on the occasion, save under exceptional circumstances. a lady is not allowed to present more than _two_ ladies, except in special cases to be sanctioned by his excellency. * * * * * =a lady who proposes being presented= at a viceregal drawing-room must send to the chamberlain's office by five o'clock, three days previous to the drawing-room, a card with her name and address both in town and country, and the name and address of the lady by whom she is to be presented distinctly written thereon, and stating which drawing-room she wishes to attend, to be submitted to the lord-lieutenant and his wife for their excellencies' approval. also two presentation cards must be obtained at the chamberlain's office two days before the drawing-room--if they have not previously been sent by post--and must be filled in with the necessary particulars, and taken to the castle on the evening of the drawing-room, one to be delivered to the official stationed in the corridor, and the other to be handed to the chamberlain, who will announce the name. it is requested that the names may be very distinctly written upon the cards, that there may be no difficulty in announcing them. * * * * * =a lady attending= a viceregal drawing-room, who has been already presented at the viceregal court, must leave at the chamberlain's office, three days previous to the drawing-room, a card with her name and address, both in town and country, distinctly written thereon, and stating which drawing-room she wishes to attend. she must bring with her two similar cards on the evening of the drawing-room, one to be given to the official in the corridor, and the other to the chamberlain, who will announce the name. a lady on entering the castle on the evening of a drawing-room towards ten o'clock, finds the hall lined with soldiers, and repairs at once to the cloak-room to leave wraps, etc., and to have her train dexterously arranged over one arm by a female attendant. she then proceeds up the grand staircase, lined with servants in gorgeous liveries, and enters the corridor, where one of the presentation cards is given up to the official in attendance, and she passes down the corridor into the long drawing-room, where a barrier of wood, enclosing a space, is erected at the end. one of the gentlemen of the household lifts this barrier at intervals to allow of a certain number passing through to the throne-room, at the door of which her train is let down and arranged by men-servants. if she is to be "presented," the chamberlain tells her to take off her right-hand glove, and, if royalty is present, informs her that she must make three bows, and says, "three bows, please." she gives up her second presentation card to him, and he calls out her name, and it is passed along to his excellency by the gentlemen of the household. the lord-lieutenant and his wife stand on a daïs, he standing in front of the throne, which is a grand chair of state, and on either side--in what are known as the "pens"--are grouped the visitors staying at the castle, those who have the private _entrée_, and the members of the household. the name of the lady who makes the presentation is also called out. the lady presented advances, the lord-lieutenant shakes hands with her, but does not now kiss her on the cheek; she then makes him a bow, and bows to his wife, who bows in return. she then retires back to the door leading into the long drawing-room, where her train is replaced over her arm. she then proceeds to st. patrick's hall, or to the picture gallery. * * * * * =ladies who attend= the drawing-room only bow to the lord-lieutenant and his wife; he bows to them, but he does not shake hands with them or kiss them. in ireland men invariably accompany their wives to the drawing-room, having previously attended the levée; they pass along the base of the semi-circle, and make their bows at the same time as do the ladies. when all have been received and have assembled in st. patrick's hall, a procession is formed, the lord-lieutenant walking first, followed by his wife, whose train is carried by pages. the visitors staying at the castle follow next, and then the members of the household, the band stationed in the gallery playing "god save the king" the while. all those present form up in two lines to make a passage for the procession to pass through, and bow low to his excellency and his wife as they pass. a supper is not given, only light refreshments of every description. these refreshments are arranged on long tables on one side of st. patrick's hall, and at the lower end, under the gallery, tables are placed for tea, coffee, wine, etc. on the opposite side of the hall red-cushioned seats are placed, and the company promenade in and around the picture gallery and st. patrick's hall during the remainder of the evening. ladies wear full court dress as at buckingham palace, and gentlemen uniform or court dress. * * * * * =levées.=--every nobleman or gentleman who proposes to attend a levée, and who has not yet been received at the viceregal court, must be introduced by a nobleman or gentleman who has himself been previously presented thereat. * * * * * =a gentleman who proposes= to be presented must send to the gentleman usher's office by five o'clock, two or three days before the levée, a card with his name and address, both in town and country, and the name and address of the gentleman by whom he is to be presented distinctly written thereon, to be submitted for the lord-lieutenant's approval. he must also obtain two presentation cards from the gentleman usher's office, and must take them to the castle on the day of the levée, the one to be given to the official in the corridor, and the other to be handed to the gentleman usher, who will announce the name to the lord-lieutenant. any gentleman who proposes to attend a levée, having been previously presented, must also take two cards with him to the castle on the day of the levée, with his name and address, both in town and country, clearly written thereon, to be given up as before mentioned. again, a gentleman who, having previously attended the levée, proposes attending the drawing-room, is requested to bring with him _one_ card, with his name distinctly written upon it, to be left in the corridor. all those entitled to the private _entrée_ at dublin castle, and availing themselves of the privilege, are permitted to be accompanied only by their wives and unmarried daughters. gentlemen wear court dress or naval and military uniforms, or the uniforms of lords-lieutenants of counties, or of the royal irish constabulary, etc. the academical habit cannot be worn except when presenting an address from a university. foreign orders and decorations cannot be worn at the court of dublin by british subjects without special authority under his majesty's royal licence. the right-hand glove should be removed before presentation. gentlemen who, having previously attended the levée, are desirous of accompanying the ladies of their families to the drawing-room, are requested to apply to the chamberlain's office for an attendance card, which should be brought to the castle on the evening of the drawing-room and given up in the corridor. presentations in london do not count as presentations at the viceregal court. chapter xl hostesses =the art of receiving guests= is a very subtle one, difficult to acquire; but when acquired and thoroughly mastered it confers upon a mistress of a house an enviable reputation--that of being a perfect hostess. with some this is in-bred, and grace and composure and all the attendant attributes which are to be found in this type of hostess sit naturally upon them; but the individuals so gifted represent the few rather than the many. a far greater section of society has to rely upon experience to teach them this useful accomplishment, while with others time alone can aid them in overcoming natural reserve, and want of confidence in themselves, which stand in the way of their assuming this character with anything like success. those ladies who are innately thoughtless and careless in this respect, neither time nor experience can mould, and what they are at the commencement of their career, they remain to the end of the chapter--very indifferent hostesses. there are varieties of hostesses, according to individual capabilities, and who are known amongst their friends by these appellations: first ranks the perfect or "charming hostess," either title suits her equally well; next to her comes the "good hostess," she is followed by the one who is "not a good hostess"; and the rear is brought up by the one who is decidedly "a bad hostess." amongst the salient points which distinguish the perfect or charming hostess are perhaps, foremost, a certain facility of putting each individual guest at ease, conveying that the welcome she accords is a personal if not an especial one. simultaneously with these agreeable impressions is conveyed a sense of the hostess's genial qualities; her charm of manner, her graciousness and her courteous bearing evincing so plainly that she is entirely mistress of the situation: these qualities insensibly react upon the guests, and evoke a corresponding desire to please on their part. * * * * * =the perfect hostess= possesses yet another advantage, viz. a readiness of speech, a faculty of saying the right thing at the right moment and to the right person, and of identifying herself, so to speak, with the susceptibilities of each of her guests. * * * * * =the good hostess= is essentially what is known as a considerate hostess; she makes up for the brighter qualities in which she is lacking by her extreme consideration for her guests. in the charming hostess this consideration is eclipsed by her more brilliant powers of pleasing, it permeates all she does, while in the good hostess it is her strongest point, and upon which is founded her claim to the name. the lady who bears the undesirable reputation of being "not a good hostess" is not "good" in a variety of ways; she means well and does her utmost to succeed, but by some contrariety of the laws which regulate domestic and social affairs, the results of her efforts are always the reverse of what she would have them be. the lady who is not a good hostess sometimes suffers from shyness and reserve which renders her stiff in manner when she would most desire to be cordial, silent when she would be most loquacious, and awkward when she would be at ease. as there are many reasons why ladies prove to be good hostesses, so there are many reasons why they prove bad hostesses, selfishness and want of consideration for others contribute to these, as do procrastination and a vague idea of the value of time. ladies with such faults and weaknesses as these produce very much the same impression upon their guests, although, perhaps, one is a little less culpable than is the other. * * * * * =the selfish hostess is a bad hostess=, because, providing she is amused, she is utterly indifferent as to whether her guests are amused or not, her own pleasure and gratification being of paramount importance. instead of being in readiness to receive her guests she descends late to the drawing-room to welcome them, and is indifferent as to whether there is any one to greet them or not. * * * * * =the procrastinating hostess=, although she is equally in fault, yet, as she hastens to excuse herself, when lacking in politeness to, or consideration for her guests, her excuses are sometimes admitted; but the selfish hostess, if she deigns to excuse herself, does so with such a palpable show of indifference as to her guests' opinion of her actions, that the excuse is oftener than not an aggravation of the offence. a lady who has no regard for time goes to her room to dress at the moment when she should be descending to the drawing-room; or she remains out driving when she should be returning; or she puts off making some very important arrangement for the comfort or amusement of her guests until it is too late for anything but a makeshift to be thought of, if it has not to be dispensed with altogether. everything that she does or projects is on the same scale of procrastination; her invitations, her orders and engagements, are one and all effected against time, and neither herself nor her guests gain the value or satisfaction of the hospitality put forth. the bad hostess walks into her drawing-room when many of her guests are assembled, either for a dinner-party or afternoon tea, and shakes hands in an awkward, abashed manner, almost as if she were an unexpected guest instead of the mistress of the house. the host is not at his ease; he is provoked at having to make excuses for his wife, and the guests are equally constrained. if the host is of a sarcastic turn of mind, he never refrains from saying something the reverse of amiable to the hostess on her entrance. "my dear," he will perhaps remark, "you are doubtless not aware that we have friends dining with us this evening." this remark renders the guests even more uncomfortable and the hostess less self-possessed, and this is often the prelude to an inharmonious evening, with a host whose brow is clouded and a hostess whose manner is abashed. * * * * * =the mode of receiving guests= is determined by the nature of the entertainment. a welcome accorded to some two or three hundred guests cannot be as personal a one as that offered to some ten to thirty guests. whatever disappointment a hostess may feel she should not allow it to appear on the surface, and should not be _distrait_ in manner when shaking hands with her guests. at large or small gatherings disappointments follow in the course of events, and very few hostesses can say that they have not experienced this in a larger or smaller degree at each and all of their entertainments. * * * * * =at a ball or evening-party= a hostess should receive her guests at the head of the staircase, and should remain there until the majority, if not all, of the guests have arrived. as the names of the guests are announced the hostess should shake hands with each, addressing some courteous observation the while, not with a view of inducing them to linger on the staircase, but rather of inviting them to enter the ball-room to make way for other guests. at a ball given at a country house the hostess should stand at the door of the ball-room and receive her guests. when the guests have duly arrived, a hostess at a country-house ball or country-house theatricals should exert herself to see that all her guests are amused. if she sees that the young ladies are not dancing she should endeavour to find them partners. in town she is not required to do this. if the chaperons have apparently no one to talk to she should introduce one of her own relatives, if she cannot give much of her own attention to them, and she should arrange that all her guests are taken in to supper. * * * * * =at large afternoon "at homes"= the hostess receives her guests at the open door of the drawing-room, and has little more time to bestow upon each than at a ball or an "at home." at small afternoon "at homes" she should receive them in the drawing-room, and should rise and shake hands with each arrival. a hostess should receive her dinner guests in the drawing-room, and should shake hands with each in the order of arrival. she occasionally finds it a trying ordeal to sustain conversation between the arrival of dinner guests and the dinner being served; sometimes this is prolonged for three-quarters of an hour through the non-appearance of a guest who must be waited for. a hostess should, although she knows that her dinner is spoilt by being thus kept back, endeavour to make the time pass as pleasantly as possible, by rendering the conversation general and by making the guests acquainted with each other. the hostess who can tide over these awkward occurrences so that the postponement of dinner from half to three-quarters of an hour is hardly perceived, proves herself to be entitled to be considered a good hostess. chapter xli the responsibilities of lady patronesses of public balls =ladies are frequently solicited= to allow their names to be placed on the lists of lady patronesses of charity balls. a ball committee is desirous of obtaining a list of influential names to lend _éclat_ and prestige to the ball, and a charity ball often numbers amongst its lady patronesses the names of many of the leading members of the nobility, followed by those of the wives of the leading county gentry, or by the principal residents of a watering-place or county town; but it is understood, as a rule, that the duty of giving vouchers or tickets for a charity ball is undertaken by those ladies who are more directly interested in it, whose husbands are on the committee, who make a point of annually attending it, and thus are principally concerned in keeping it select; and although in many counties and in many towns lady patronesses, members of the nobility, do attend, yet it not unfrequently happens that out of a long list of great ladies only three or four are present at a ball. the members of the leading nobility and gentry of a neighbourhood invariably lend their names to local charity balls, and head the list of patrons and patronesses, but beyond lending their names, and in some cases sending a subscription of money towards the funds of the charity, or a present of game towards the supper, they have very little to do with the ball itself, which is practically in the hands of the local stewards. the exceptions to this rule are the charity balls held in town during the season, such as the royal caledonian ball, the yorkshire, the wiltshire, and the somersetshire societies' balls. on these occasions many of the great ladies give vouchers and attend the balls. when ladies consent to become lady patronesses of a ball, they usually notify to the committee whether they will or will not undertake the duty of giving vouchers or tickets, as the case may be. some ball committees arrange that vouchers are to be given by lady patronesses, to be subsequently exchanged for tickets, signed and filled in with the name of the person to whom the ticket is given. the lady patronesses in this case receive the money charged for the tickets, and forward it to the committee after the ball, with any tickets that they may not have disposed of. the ladies who exert themselves to sell tickets are generally those who possess a large acquaintance, whose husbands are members of clubs; therefore, if any person ought to be tabooed for some good social reason, the lady patronesses reap the benefit of their husbands' knowledge, and are thus able to give a polite refusal when tickets are applied for for persons who are not altogether desirable. it is no doubt a difficult and delicate task for the lady patronesses of a large ball to keep it thoroughly select, and if not very particular respecting those for whom tickets are granted, a ball, though a full one, is likely to prove a very mixed affair, if not somewhat objectionable, by reason of the presence of persons to whom tickets should never have been granted, on moral if not on social grounds; and though the funds of a charity may gain considerably by the increase of numbers, through a general willingness on the part of the committee or the lady patronesses to grant tickets to every one who may apply for them, yet such policy is very short-sighted, and is seldom practised by those who possess any practical knowledge in the matter, as it is fatal to the reputation of a ball if persons who are objectionable are present at it. in the case of a ticket being applied for for a person of doubtful antecedents, a lady patroness's best course is to refer the applicant to the ball committee for tickets or vouchers. * * * * * =persons not well received in society=, or who have ostracised themselves, have a predilection for public balls, and make every effort to obtain tickets of admission; and in some cases, when a refusal has been pronounced by the committee of a ball, the committee has been threatened with legal proceedings. unmarried ladies seldom or ever act as lady patronesses, it not being considered advisable to place the discretion of granting tickets in their hands, lest their ignorance of the world should be taken advantage of. * * * * * =the lady patronesses of a charity ball= who undertake to give vouchers or to sell tickets, usually exert themselves to the utmost in inducing as many of their friends as possible to attend the ball. it depends upon the committee of a charity ball whether tickets are presented or not to the lady patronesses and stewards; but if the funds of the charity are not at a very low ebb, this is generally done in recognition of their services. the responsibilities of lady patronesses of private subscription balls are light in comparison with those of public charity balls, as persons who attend subscription balls are usually on the visiting lists of one or other of the lady patronesses, while with regard to county balls, lady patronesses are not usually concerned in the disposal of the tickets. chapter xlii periods of mourning =the various periods of mourning= for relatives have within the last few years been materially shortened, and the change generally accepted; but as some still prefer to adhere to the longest periods prescribed by custom, in the present chapter both periods are given, and it entirely depends upon individual feeling and circumstances which of the two periods is observed. the time-honoured custom of wearing crape has greatly declined, and with the exception of widows, many do not wear it at all, while others wear it as a trimming only. a slighter change has also taken place in favour of half-mourning colours, which are now more worn than black and white during the half-mourning period. * * * * * =court mourning= when enjoined is imperative, the orders respecting which are minutely given from the lord chamberlain's office and published in the official _gazette_; but these orders only apply to persons connected with the court, or to persons attending courts, levées, state balls, state concerts, etc. when the order for general mourning is given on the death of any member of the royal family, the order applies to all, although it is optional whether the general public comply with it or not. * * * * * =the longest period for a widow's mourning= is two years. the shorter period is eighteen months. formerly crape was worn for one year and nine months; for the first twelve months the dress was entirely covered with crape. the newer fashion in widows' mourning is to wear crape as a trimming only, and to discontinue its wear after six or eight months, while some few widows do not wear it at all during their mourning, it being optional wear. * * * * * =half-mourning= in the longer period commences after a year and nine months, and is worn for three months. in the shorter period half-mourning may commence after fifteen months, and be continued for three months. the period for wearing the widow's cap and veil is a year and a day. the veil may be _crêpe lisse_ or _chiffon_ in place of crape. it is now the fashion for young widows to wear the cap as a head-dress only, while others do not wear it at all. lawn cuffs and collars are worn during the first year, or for six months only, or not at all. after the first year white neckbands and white strings to the bonnet may be worn. also hats in place of bonnets. further touches of white may follow during the next three months. after a year gold ornaments may be worn; diamonds earlier. * * * * * =widowers= should wear mourning for one year; they usually enter society after three months. * * * * * =for a parent= the period of mourning is twelve months; ten months black, two months half-mourning, or eight months black and four months half-mourning. the black may be relieved with touches of white after three months. crape is optional; many prefer not to wear it at all, others as a trimming. diamonds--earrings, brooches, etc.--before gold, at the end of three months. * * * * * =for a son or daughter= the period of mourning is identical with the foregoing. * * * * * =for very young children or infants= the mourning is frequently shortened by half this period, or even to three months. * * * * * =for a stepmother.=--the period of mourning depends upon whether the stepdaughters reside at home or not, or whether their father has been long married, or whether their father's second wife has filled the place of mother to them, in which case the period of mourning would be for twelve months, otherwise the period is six months--four months black relieved with touches of white after two months, followed by two months half-mourning. * * * * * =for a brother or sister= the longest period of mourning is six months, the shortest period four months. during the longest period, viz. six months, black should be worn for five months, with a little white after two months, half-mourning for one month. after one month diamonds, pins, and brooches, etc.; gold after two months. during the shortest period, viz. four months, black should be worn for two months, half-mourning two months. * * * * * =for a sister-in-law or a brother-in-law= the period of mourning was formerly the same as for a brother or sister, but the four months' period is now the one usually chosen. * * * * * =for a grandparent= the longest period of mourning is six months, the shortest four months. during the longest period black should be worn for three months, relieved with white after six weeks, half-mourning for three months; diamonds after one month, gold after six weeks or two months. during the shortest period black should be worn for two months, half-mourning for two months. the custom of wearing crape may now be said to have gone out of fashion as regards etiquette, black being considered adequate mourning, save in the case of widows. the former crape periods were six months for parents and children, three months for brothers and sisters, three months for grandparents. * * * * * =for an uncle or aunt= the longest period of mourning is three months, the shortest period six weeks. during the longest period black (no crape) should be worn for two months, half-mourning one month. during the shortest period black for three weeks, half-mourning for three weeks; diamonds after three weeks. * * * * * =for a nephew or niece= the periods of mourning are identical with the foregoing. * * * * * =for an uncle or aunt by marriage= the period is six weeks black, or three weeks black and three weeks half-mourning. * * * * * =for a great uncle or aunt= the longest period is two months, the shortest one month. during the longest period black for one month, half-mourning for one month. during the shortest period black for one month. * * * * * =for a first cousin= the longest period is six weeks, the shortest one month. during the longest period black for three weeks, half-mourning for three weeks. during the shortest period black for one month. * * * * * =for a second cousin= three weeks black. mourning for a second cousin is not obligatory, but quite optional, and often not worn. * * * * * =for a husband's relations= the periods of mourning chosen are invariably the shorter ones. * * * * * =for a daughter-in-law or son-in-law= the periods are now shortened to six months; four months black and two months half-mourning, or three months black and three months half-mourning. * * * * * =for the parents of a son-in-law or daughter-in-law= the period is one month, black. * * * * * =for the parents of a first wife= a second wife should wear mourning for one month, black relieved with white. * * * * * =for a brother or sister of a first wife= a second wife should wear mourning for three weeks, but this is not obligatory, and depends upon the intimacy existing between the two families. * * * * * =much latitude is allowed to men= with regard to the foregoing periods of mourning. * * * * * =a hat-band should be worn= during the whole of each period, but it is not imperative to wear suits of black longer than half the periods given, save in the case of widowers. * * * * * =servants' mourning.=--it is customary to give servants mourning on the death of the head of the house, which should be worn during the period the members of the family are in mourning. mourning given to servants on the death of a son or daughter is quite an optional matter. * * * * * =seclusion from society.=--the question as to how soon persons in mourning should or should not re-enter society is in some measure an open one, and is also influenced by the rules that govern the actual period of mourning adopted. * * * * * =a widow is not expected to enter into society= under three months, and during that time she should neither accept invitations nor issue them. her visiting should be confined to her relations and intimate friends. after three months she should commence gradually to enter into society, but balls and dances should be avoided during the first year. * * * * * =for a daughter mourning for a parent= the period of seclusion is six weeks as far as general society is concerned; but invitations to balls and dances should not be accepted until after six months. * * * * * =for a parent mourning for a son or daughter= the period of seclusion is the same as is that of a daughter for a parent. * * * * * =for a brother or sister= the period of seclusion is three weeks. * * * * * =for grandparents= the period of seclusion is from a fortnight to three weeks. * * * * * =for an uncle or aunt= the period is a fortnight to three weeks. * * * * * =for all other periods of mourning= seclusion from society is not considered requisite. * * * * * =when persons in mourning= intend entering again into society, they should leave cards on their friends and acquaintances as an intimation that they are equal to paying and receiving calls. * * * * * =when cards of inquiry have been left=, viz. visiting cards with "to inquire after mrs. a----" written on the top on right-hand corner of the cards, they should be returned by cards with "thanks for kind inquiries" written upon them (see chapter iii.). until this intimation has been given, society does not venture to intrude upon the seclusion of those in mourning. relations and intimate friends are exempt from this received rule. * * * * * =funerals.=--when a death occurs in a family, as soon as the day and hour for the funeral are fixed, a member of the family should write to those relatives and friends it is desired should follow, and should ask them to attend, unless the date, time, and place of the funeral, and the train by which to travel to the cemetery, are mentioned in the newspaper, together with the announcement of the death. * * * * * =it is a mistake to suppose that friends= will offer to attend a funeral, even if they are aware of the date fixed, as they are naturally in doubt as to whether the mourners are to include the members of the family only, or whether friends are to be included also. * * * * * =in the country, when a doctor= has attended a family for some years, it is usual to invite him to attend the funeral of one of its members. in town this is seldom done, unless a medical man is the intimate friend of the family. in the country the clergyman of the parish reads the funeral service, but in town, when the funeral takes place at kensal green, brookwood cemetery, or elsewhere, a friend of the family is usually asked to officiate; in which case it is necessary to make an early application at the office of the cemetery for the use of the chapel at a particular hour. * * * * * =it is customary for ladies to attend= the funeral of a relative if disposed to do so, in which case they wear their usual mourning attire, and follow in their own carriages. * * * * * =the doctor's certificate= as to the cause of death is of primary importance, and should be obtained at the earliest possible moment. * * * * * =memorial cards should not be sent= on the death of a relative, being quite out of date as regards fashion and custom. * * * * * =wreaths and crosses= of white flowers are very generally sent by relatives and friends to a house of mourning the day of the funeral, unless "no flowers, by request" follows the announcement of the death. when the funeral takes place before two o'clock, the friends should be invited to luncheon. when it takes place in the afternoon, they should be asked to return to the house for tea or light refreshment. chapter xliii engaged it greatly depends upon the views held by parents as to the freedom of action accorded to a daughter during her engagement. some entertain the strictest ideas on this head, and strenuously put them in force. by "strict ideas" is meant that an engaged couple, except in the presence of a chaperon, are never, under any circumstances, permitted to enjoy a _tête-à-tête_, sit together, walk together, ride together, or meet during any part of the day. wisdom and common-sense dictate a middle course of action for the consideration of parents, neither granting too much nor withholding too much. * * * * * =the length of an engagement= determines in most instances the degree of latitude allowed. if it is to last two months, or even less, it is usual to permit the engaged couple to be much in each other's society. the circumstances under which this is accomplished depend upon the position of the parents; if wealthy, and a country house is part of their possessions, the young lady's father should invite the gentleman engaged to his daughter on a visit, or one or two visits, during the engagement. or the mother of the bridegroom-elect should invite her future daughter-in-law to stay with her for ten days or a fortnight. etiquette prescribes that a young lady must be chaperoned by one of her near relatives at all public places of amusement. if an engaged couple move in the same set, they meet frequently at the houses of mutual friends; they are sent in to dinner together when dining out. to dance with each other at a ball, or dance more than three or four times in succession, and when not dancing to sit out in tea-rooms and conservatories, renders an engaged couple conspicuous, and this is precisely what many mothers are most anxious that their daughters should avoid being, and would rather that they were over-prudent than that they should run the gauntlet of general criticism. * * * * * =the usual course for engaged couples= to take is to go as little into society as possible during their engagement, and to make the engagement as brief as circumstances will permit. if from various causes it must of necessity be a long one, the only alternative for an engaged couple is to render themselves as little conspicuous in general society as a mutual understanding will permit. * * * * * =when an engagement is first announced=, if the families are not previously acquainted, the father, mother, and relatives of the bridegroom-elect should call on the father and mother of the bride-elect at an early date, to make the acquaintance of the bride and her family, and they should write to the bride-elect expressing their approval of the engagement. the calls should be returned and the letters answered with the least possible delay. the engagement should be announced to relatives and intimate friends by the mother of the engaged young lady, and if the announcement is to appear in the papers it should be sent by her. the bride should ask the sisters and cousins of the bridegroom to act as bridesmaids in conjunction with her own sisters and cousins. when an engagement is broken off, all letters and presents should be returned on both sides. all wedding presents received by the bride-elect should be likewise returned to the donors. the mother of the bride should announce to all whom it may concern, the fact that the engagement is at an end. chapter xliv silver weddings the german custom of celebrating silver weddings has become thoroughly recognised in this country. it is an interesting custom to celebrate the first twenty-five years of married life under the poetic title of a silver wedding, but those who can do so must be for many reasons the few, rather than the many; royal personages, and distinguished and prominent ones for instance, and again, those in humbler walks of life "far from the madding crowd," are also inclined to do so; but the "crowd" that divides them, formed of different classes and different sets in society, will hardly avail itself of the opportunity of celebrating this period of married life. husbands as a rule dislike the fuss and parade and prominency it entails, and wives are disinclined to announce to their friends and acquaintances that they have been married five and twenty years, and are consequently not so young as they were. * * * * * =the entertainments given to celebrate a silver wedding= are: an afternoon reception and a dinner-party. a dinner-party followed by an evening-party. a dinner-party followed by a dance. or a dinner-party only, of some twenty or thirty covers. the invitations are issued on "at home" cards some three weeks beforehand, the cards being printed in silver, and the words "mr. and mrs. white at home, to celebrate their silver wedding" printed on them, with day and date, etc. the dinner cards should also be printed in silver, with the words "mr. and mrs. white request the pleasure of mr. and mrs. black's company at dinner to celebrate their silver wedding," etc. for a dance the invitations should be worded "mr. and mrs. white at home, to celebrate their silver wedding." "dancing" printed in the corner of the card. * * * * * =each person invited= is expected to send a present in silver, costly or trifling as the case may be, whether the invitation is accepted or not. these presents should be exhibited in the drawing-room on the day of the silver wedding with a card attached to each bearing the name of the giver. at the afternoon reception the husband and wife receive the congratulations of their friends as they arrive. they enter the tea-room together almost immediately afterwards followed by those guests who have arrived. refreshments are served as at an afternoon wedding tea. (see page ) a large wedding-cake is placed in the centre of the table, and the wife makes the first cut in it as a bride would do. the health of the husband and wife is then proposed by one of the guests, drunk in champagne, and responded to by the husband. at the dinner-party the husband and wife go in to dinner together, followed by their guests, who are sent in according to precedency. the health of the husband and wife is proposed at dessert and responded to. a wedding-cake occupies a prominent place on the table, and the dinner-table decorations consist of white flowers interspersed with silver. * * * * * =at the silver wedding dance=, the husband and wife dance the first dance together, and subsequently lead the way into the supper-room arm-in-arm, and later on their health is proposed by the principal guest present. the wife should wear white and silver, or grey and silver. in the country, when a silver wedding is celebrated, the festivities sometimes range over three days, but this only in the case of prominent and wealthy people; balls, dinners, and school-treats being given, in which the neighbours, tenants, villagers and servants take part. * * * * * =golden weddings.=--the celebration of a golden wedding is rather an english custom, and one that from circumstances can be but seldom observed. it denotes that fifty years of married life have passed over the heads of husband and wife, and is a solemn rather than a festive epoch. presents on this occasion are not so generally given, and children and grandchildren rather than acquaintances make up the circle of those who offer congratulations. chapter xlv subscription dances =subscription= dances are now an established fact, but whether they will ever really become a rival to the dance proper remains to be seen; yet as they supply a want felt, and are recognised by society, the arrangements necessary for carrying them out should be duly noted. during the winter months they are a feature in certain sets: subscription dances, private subscription dances and public subscription dances, the latter got up for charitable purposes. the moderate expenses incurred by giving private subscription dances commend them to many, and there are other reasons to account for their popularity. they are without pretension to being considered smart or exclusive, and are essentially small and early dances. fashionable ball-goers are not expected to attend them. they commence at o'clock and terminate at , light refreshments in lieu of supper are provided, as at an afternoon "at home." (see p. .) a piano band is considered sufficient for the purpose, and floral decorations are scarcely ever attempted. the invitations are issued on "at home" cards, with the words "subscription dance" printed in one corner. * * * * * =subscription dances= are sometimes invitation dances and sometimes not. tickets for these dances are charged for singly or by the series as the case may be. a certain number of ladies form a committee and agree to give a certain number of dances, and the expenses are either borne by the ladies themselves or covered by the sale of the tickets. if invitation dances, a certain number of invitations are allotted to each lady. when otherwise, the ladies dispose of the tickets among their friends. these dances are usually held in a mansion hired for the purpose, and there are several available in different parts of the west end, where spacious rooms can be hired on very moderate terms; in some instances a piano, seats, and other accessories are also included. * * * * * =public subscription= dances are held in public rooms or town halls, and vouchers are given by ladies on the committee previous to tickets being granted. the same etiquette holds good at subscription dances as at other public dances. the early hour at which these dances take place recommends them to some and altogether renders them impossible to others, notably to those who dine late, and who are not inclined to dance at nine o'clock or even at ten o'clock, and who rather resent the frugal style of refreshments offered, and consider that a champagne supper is an indispensable adjunct to a dance. it should be remembered that subscription dances were first originated for the amusement of very young people, and it was never expected that they would compete with the fashionable small dances of the day; their popularity was a surprise, and if ball-goers are disposed to hold them in contempt there are others less fashionable and less wealthy who find them very much to their taste. the great difficulty, however, that ladies have to contend with is the fact that very few men can be induced to attend them, and that those who do accept invitations or purchase tickets are very young men, who have their way to make in the world, and are as yet on the lower rungs of the ladder, and as young ladies are very much in the majority at these subscription dances, to dance with partners younger than themselves is an almost inevitable result for those who are no longer in their teens. chapter xlvi giving presents as regards presents in general it should be understood that a present demands a note of thanks in all cases when the thanks cannot be verbally expressed. the notes to slight acquaintances should be written in the third person. to friends, in the first person. this applies equally to presents of game, poultry, fruit, or flowers. some few people entertain the erroneous idea that presents of this nature do not require thanks. this is not only ungracious but raises a doubt in the mind of the giver as to whether the present sent has been duly received. * * * * * =wedding presents.=--when an engagement has been duly announced to relatives and friends, and it is understood that it is to be a short one, wedding presents may be sent until the day before the wedding-day, and the earlier they are sent the more convenient it is for the bride, as she is expected to write a note of thanks to each giver. in each case a letter should be sent with the present expressing the congratulations and best wishes of the donor, and, if possible, a card with the name of the giver should be attached to it for identification when the presents are exhibited. the friends of the bridegroom, and unacquainted with the bride, should send their presents to him, and he should send them to the house of the bride's mother after having written notes of thanks to the givers. * * * * * =christening presents.=--with regard to christening presents the godfathers and godmothers are expected to make presents to their godchild; these should be sent the day before the christening, and should consist of a silver mug and silver fork and spoon from the godfathers, while a lace robe or handsome cloak are usual presents from the godmothers. a present of money from s. to £ should be made to the nurse on the day of the christening when the godparents are relatives, but oftener than not the sponsors are represented by proxy. * * * * * =giving tips to servants.=--the tips expected from ladies at the conclusion of a visit of some days, are: to the head housemaid from s. d. to s. according to the length of the visit. the same to the butler or single-handed man servant, and the same to the chauffeur. young ladies give less when visiting by themselves. the tips expected from gentlemen are: to the butler or footman who valets them, to the chauffeur if he drives them to and from the station, to the groom if he takes charge of their hunters, also to the head housemaid. the tip to the butler or footman who acts as valet is for a long visit from s. to s., and for a short visit from s. to s. to the chauffeur s. in the first case, and from s. d. to s. in the second. to the housemaid, s. d. to s. for tips to gamekeeper, see p. . the tips given to hotel servants vary according to the length of the visit. to the head waiter from s. to s. to the second waiter from s. d. to s. to the hall porter, s. to s. to the luggage porter, s. to s. to the head housemaid in attendance, s. d. to s. chapter xlvii christening parties =christening parties= may be said to be strictly family gatherings, only the near relatives of the parents being invited on these occasions. * * * * * =the invitations= are given in friendly notes, and are not issued on "at home" cards. the notice averages from a week to ten days according to circumstances, meaning the health and strength of the infant's mother. * * * * * =as a rule six weeks= are allowed to elapse between the birth of the child and the date of the christening. * * * * * =the relatives are either invited= to luncheon after the ceremony, or to a reception tea, or to a dinner-party to be given the same evening. if a luncheon is decided upon it generally takes place at . , or earlier, immediately on the return from the church. the meal usually consists of hot viands--game or poultry--not substantial joints. hot and cold sweets. fruit to follow. a smart christening cake should occupy the centre of the table. champagne, claret, and sherry are given, although the former is probably the only one of the three drunk on the occasion; this, when the health of the infant is proposed--the only health which finds acceptance at these gatherings. * * * * * =the guests go in to luncheon= quite informally, the ladies and hostess entering first, followed by the men guests and the host. they should be seated at table by the help of name cards, each lady being placed at the right hand of a gentleman. the clergyman who performs the ceremony, if a friend, should sit at the hostess's left hand, and should be asked to say grace; but in town he seldom joins these family gatherings unless well acquainted with his parishioners. * * * * * =a reception tea=, when given, is served in the dining-room; but in this case the guests are received on arrival by the hostess in the drawing-room, and when all have arrived, she accompanies them to the tea-room and remains there with them. the maid-servants should pour out and hand the tea and coffee across the tea-table, but the hostess should hand the cakes, etc., to her relatives, assisted by the host, if present. the refreshments consist of the usual variety in confectionery seen at all smart "at homes," a christening cake being the addition. * * * * * =christening dinner-parties= closely resemble all other family functions of this nature, with the exception that the infant's health is drunk at dessert, and that a christening cake is placed opposite the hostess when the table is cleared for dessert. * * * * * =the christening ceremony= takes place in the afternoon, usually at . . the relatives on arrival at the church seat themselves in pews or on chairs near to the font. the godmother holds the infant during the first part of the service, and then places it on the left arm of the officiating clergyman. one of the godfathers should name the child in response to the clergyman's question. if the child is a girl, two godmothers and one godfather are necessary. if a boy, two godfathers and one godmother are required. these godparents are usually the intimate friends of the child's mother. in certain instances the relatives are chosen for the office of godfather and godmother, but oftener not for family reasons. * * * * * =christening presents= vary according to means and inclination, and often comprise gifts of jewellery when the infant is a girl, and money and silver plate if a boy; silver spoons, forks, mugs, bowls, etc. the selection is a wide one, and nothing comes amiss, from a robe with fine lace to a chain and pendant or a jewelled watch. these presents are usually sent the day previous to that of the christening. * * * * * =fees and tips.=--only minor fees are given to those assisting at the ceremony. the officiating priest receives some little gift in old silver or china, but not of money; if, however, the parents of the child are wealthy a cheque is sometimes given with a request that he will devote it to the needs of his parish. tips to the nurse from the child's godparents vary from five shillings to a sovereign according to individual means. index afternoon "at homes," afternoon dances, afternoon tea, afternoon weddings, amusements at children's parties, ; at country-house parties, ; at garden-parties, "at home" days, ; "at homes," , bachelors' balls, balls, ; patronesses of, best man, duties of, bowing, breakfasts, bridal wreath, bride, , , bridegroom's relatives, bridegroom's responsibilities, , , , bridesmaids, ; presents to, bride's relatives, bridge parties, , ; refreshments at, ; teas, calls, paying, ; after entertainments, canoe parties, cards, gentlemen's, ; ladies, ; memorial, ; "p.p.c.," cards, leaving, ; after entertainments, , ; on new-comers, ; returning, ; routine of leaving, , ; "to inquire," chaperons, charity balls, christening luncheons and teas, ; parties, ; presents, , clergy, how to address, cockades, colonial etiquette, county balls, country dinner-parties, country-house visits, court, attending, ; presentation at, court dress for gentlemen, ; for ladies, cricket matches, dances, invitation, ; public, débutantes, _dîner à la russe_, dining out, dinner guests, dinner invitations, dinner-table decorations, ; etiquette, , drawing-room, retiring to, drawing-rooms at viceregal court, dublin, driving, engagements, ; etiquette of, ; presents, _entrée_ at court, etiquette, ; at balls, ; at dinner-table, , ; colonial, ; indian, ; in regard to royalty, ; of visiting at bachelors' houses, ; when travelling abroad, evening parties, ; garden-parties, foreigners of rank, how to address, funerals, funeral wreaths, gamekeepers, tips to, game licence, garden-parties, ; in the evening, ; in town, giving presents, going in to luncheon, ; to supper, , golden weddings, gratuities to servants, , , , , , honeymoon, hostesses, hunt balls, , hunt breakfasts, hunting, indian etiquette, introductions, ; correct formula for, ; at afternoon calls, ; at country-house parties, ; at dinner-parties, ; at evening parties, ; at public balls, , invitations, , , , , , , juvenile parties, ladies in the hunting-field, levée dress, levées, ; at viceregal court, dublin, ; presentations at, ; who may attend, licences, marriage, luncheons, marriage by banns, ; by licence, , ; fees, , memorial cards, menus, , military balls, , mourning, ; court, "not at home," officers, how to address, opening a ball, patronesses of public balls, pheasant shooting, picnics, plumes in court dress, politeness, graces of, precedency amongst royalty, , ; at ball suppers, ; at dinner-parties, , ; of ambassadors and diplomats, ; of army and navy, ; of baronets and knights, , ; of bishops, ; of clergy, , ; of esquires, ; of ladies, ; of legal profession, , ; of peers, ; of widows, presentation at court, ; at foreign courts, ; at levées, ; at viceregal court, dublin, presents, christening, ; giving, ; wedding, , , public balls, receiving guests, , , , refreshments for "at homes," ; at bridge parties, ; at children's parties, refusing invitations, responsibilities of patronesses, riding, royal guests present, , royalty, how to address, saying grace, sending in to dinner, shaking hands, shooting, signing the register, silver weddings, state balls, state mourning, subscription dances, supper, going in to, surnames of peculiar pronunciation, tea for afternoon callers, titles, how to use in speaking, town garden-parties, trousseau, undesired introductions, walking, water parties, wedding cake, , ; cards, ; etiquette, ; expenses, ; favours, ; fees, , ; golden, ; invitations, ; luncheon, ; of widow, ; presents, , , ; receptions, , ; ring, ; service, ; silver, widow's wedding, writing invitations, the end transcriber's notes: passages in italics are indicated by _underscore_. passages in bold style are indicated by =bold=. currency symbols such as £, d., and s. are italicised in the original text, this format has been removed in the current text version for a smoother reading experience. c[=o]burn (page ) and p[=y]tch'ley (page ) have diacritical marks. they are marked as [=o] which represents a marcron (straight line) above the o and [=y] which represents a macron above the y. the following words have been retained in both versions: table-cloth and tablecloth out-door and outdoor solemnized and solemnised the following misprints have been corrected: changed "at the vice-regal court," into "at the viceregal court," page viii changed "refusal, and the profered" into "refusal, and the proffered" page changed "by a manservant or" into "by a man-servant or" page changed "to the manservant silently," into "to the man-servant silently," page changed "villiers" into villiers." page changed "a tablespoon for soup," into "a table-spoon for soup," page changed "a box of bonbons," into "a box of bon-bons," page changed "chickens, game, mayonaises," into "chickens, game, mayonnaises," page changed "at dinner-table, , ;" into "at dinner-table, , ;" page changed "levées, ," into "levées, ;" page other than the corrections listed above, printer's inconsistencies in spelling, punctuation, hyphenation, and ligature usage have been retained. available by internet archive (https://archive.org) note: images of the original pages are available through internet archive. see https://archive.org/details/beadlesdimebooko bead beadle's dime [illustration] book of practical etiquette for ladies and gentlemen: being a guide to true gentility and good-breeding, and a complete directory to the usages and observances of society. including etiquette of the ball room, of the evening party, the dinner-party, the card and chess table, of business, of the home circle, &c., &c. prepared expressly for the "dime series" by a committee of three. new york: irwin p. beadle, & co., no. william street. entered according to act of congress, in the year , by irwin p. beadle, in the clerk's office of the district court of the united states for the southern district of new york. introduction. "that man is a gentleman!" how the heart opens to let him in, without any further commendation! he may be wise, and rich, and remarked for his genius; but if he be not a true gentleman, his gifts will not avail to make him a favorite and a desirable companion. "that woman is a lady!" what matter, then, if she is not clad in silks, or is not beautiful of form or feature? she has the key which unlocks all hearts for her, for to be a lady, implies high qualities and gracious gifts of soul. why, then, are not all persons gentlemen and ladies? we can not tell, except it be that some, and a large class of, persons look upon politeness as something effeminate, or as fit only for fops; and therefore make boors of themselves, because it is so manly to be coarse and to do just as one pleases. some are actually ignorant of what constitutes true politeness, and err not from willfulness, but from want of knowledge. but such persons are readily forgivable, for, if their disposition is to be polite, they will find the way very easy into the confidence of all, and will learn, ere long, what custom and usage has sanctioned as fit and proper regulations for the intercourse of men with men, women with women, and all with one another. it is to such persons as those last-named, that we especially address this little manual. to learn the usages of society is easy, if one only _will_ learn; for, after all, these usages are not complicated and burdensome, but grounded upon simplicity itself: the great law which underlies all, is the blessed golden rule: "_do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you._" we propose to give such suggestions, in the various departments of social experience, as will advise the reader of the usages sanctioned by eminent authority, and of the deportment proper and acceptable to well-bred persons; and flatter ourselves that, if our advice is followed, this "dime book of etiquette" will prove entirely competent to fit its attentive reader to move with credit and self-respect in any circle where a true lady or gentleman always finds ready recognition. contents introduction, iii entrance into society: general observations--case of the bashful young man--enter society early--avoid forwardness and romping--snobs--fops--bores--the secret of making yourself at ease--good-nature everything, general observances for visits, etc.: the several kinds of visits--styles of dress appropriate--proper time to call--make a brief stay--visits to the newly-married--of condolence--after a party--on new year's day, etc., special observances for all occasions: directions for all to learn by heart, in regard to dress, demeanor, conversation, etc., etc., the formula of introductions: how to "introduce"--general forms to be observed--when introductions are proper--promiscuous introductions improper, on dress and ornaments: good dress highly proper and necessary--the kind of garments proper for various occasions--jewelry and "flash" dressing vulgar--when jewelry is in good taste--special advice to females upon their dress--flowers, jewels, feathers, arrangement of hair, etc., etc., on cleanliness and fastidiousness: the hands, nails, mouth, teeth, etc., etc.--bathe frequently for purity of complexion--tobacco and smell of smoke offensive and forbidden in the house or in the presence of ladies--"broken" garments--neatness inseparable from true gentility, conversation and personal address: the various talkers--how to talk and when--the kind of subjects proper to introduce--pedantry out of place--impropriety of personalities--good talking and good manners always go together, writing of letters, etc.: how to address, and kind of paper to use--seals, franks, superscriptions, etc.--the forms generally used--on style--the proprieties of language--praise and flattery out of place--models not always available--letters to friends--a "dime letter writer" in press, balls, evening-parties, receptions, etc.: whole etiquette and observances of these occasions, with special remarks to both sexes upon deportment, proprieties, etc.--a chapter for all young persons to read, the card and chess table, etc.: etiquette of sociable games--chess and its proprieties--cheerfulness a necessary companion for all players, entertainments, dinner-parties, etc.: the whole etiquette of such occasions, including general and special directions, etiquette of the street: explicit directions for behavior on the street--a true gentleman known by his demeanor--how to treat ladies, the politeness of business: how proper politeness is, in employees and employers--rules which should invariably mark their deportment, advice to the working-man: politeness essential to all--boorishness intolerable and injurious--the true relation between the various workers in society, love, courtship, and marriage: a chapter by an eminent author--the language of true love and its expression--the true relations of the sexes--coquetry and flirting a mark of baseness--courtship--its modes of procedure and its proper manifestation--its attendant responsibilities--marriage--the solemn character of the occasion--its forms of procedure, and rites of the ceremony--after-marriage customs and observances, respect for religion and old age: remarks designed for the young of both sexes, and advice they will not fail to profit by, special word, for ladies only: the necessities of particular styles of dress--velvets, muslins, complexion, etc.--a fair face should be always in smiles, confidential advice to young men: the great, invariable law of compensations--the true principles of conduct, the and grand secret of success, cultivate a taste for the beautiful: what "the beautiful" is--its great utility in modifying our tastes and in directing our habits--art, music, books, female companionship, all to be cultivated sedulously, etiquette of horseback riding: the uses of this noble exercise--the rules of the road and the proper attentions to offer--the dress, etc., the laws of home etiquette: a chapter for every one to read and to commit to memory--how homes are made models of happiness and comfort--the laws of intercourse with guests and with members of the family, cards of invitation for all occasions: the formulas of invitations, cards of address, calling cards, wedding cards, letters of introduction, etc., etc., beadle's dime book of etiquette. entrance into society. has the moment arrived when you are called upon to cast aside your youthful associations and youthful irresponsibilities to take your place in society as a man or woman? it is a most important moment--one which deserves the consideration of a thoughtful study; for, upon a proper knowledge of what belongs to true manhood, true womanhood, does much of your after-life success depend. if you are ignorant of the laws of politeness, of the rules and observances of true sociality, of the means necessary to render yourself an agreeable companion and a useful member of the social circle, you begin life at immense disadvantage, and will never cease to regret that ignorance. it is such an easy matter to become familiar with the usages and proprieties of social life that ignorance is inexcusable; and when we see men of sense and sagacity behaving, in an assembly, at a party, at the dinner-table, at the card-table, like half-tutored savages,--rude, awkward, uncivil, a source of annoyance to their friends, we feel a degree of indignation rather than of pity, since it is so easy to learn how to behave, that there really is no good excuse for boorishness and awkward deportment. to illustrate, let us narrate the case of our young friend falconbridge, whose _entree_ into society afforded a subject of laughter and comment for weeks after the incidents which he has had the courage to place before us as a warning. he tells his story thus: "i pulled the bell with a most nervous twitch; i 'walked in' with fear and misgivings; in the parlor not only sat miss jones, but her two cousins, the old lady, a maiden aunt, and some four or five of the junior branches of the jones family. i got through, though it was fearful work. i set my hat on the center-table, and it fell off; i picked it up, and in doing so, hit my nose against a pile of gilt-edged literature, and down it came pell-mell; but the children came to my rescue, and i finally found myself armed by a lady each side--the cousins! imagine my feelings--miss j. going in advance, _en route_, down the avenue to the portly residence of misses degrands. we entered the vestibule; i had not spoken a word all the way; the two pretty cousins and miss j. doing a heap of conversation. in the hall the old negro servant made a grab at my hat, but i held on, and in triumph carried it into the parlor, where, in the midst of introductions, flaring of lamps, and waving and fluttering of silks and cashmeres, bowing, scraping, fuss and feathers, to all of which i was more or less deaf and blind, down upon a piano-stool in the corner i dropped my hat. "the two cousins froze to me, introduced me; i bowed; one of the miss degrands came forward; i was introduced, and as she, in the tip of fashion, made her perfectly grand theatrical bow to me, grabbed her by the hand in the most democratic manner imaginable, and shook it most heartily. she not only blushed, but, by her eyes, i saw that she was likewise mad as a hornet. her sister and her had a word, and then her sister avoided me. things grew no better fast; from one bungle i got into another. in _whist_ i was ignorant and awkward; in a hop waltz with one of the cousins, i trod on her toes, until she screamed; and, in trying to mend the matter, i stepped on the flounces of miss degrand's dress and tore off five yards at least. in despair, i backed down, saw a seat, rushed to it, and down i sat upon my hat! in confusion i arose, snatched up the pancake-looking affair, which i frenziedly held up to public gaze. there was a roar of laughter--in which i did not join, i assure you; i gave a rush forward, hit the corner of the table, tilted over the astral lamp!--such a crash!--i kept on, i made for the door which just then old degrand was entering _avant courier_ of his old negro man, who bore a large tray well filled with wine in glasses. i struck the old gentleman so forcibly that he fell upon pompey, glasses, and wine; and, on my mad career, i proceeded. going out the wrong end of the hall, i found myself in a dark dining-room; but, jerking open the first door in advance, i went out into a hall, thence to an anteroom; groping in the dark, i struck my forehead against a half-open door, saw bushels of stars, and--_fell senseless_! "how or when i got home, the lord only knows; but, for one week, i had a head too big for my hat, and a pair of terrifically black eyes. as soon as able to travel, i left that 'settlement' never to return." now this is no overwrought scene, but one which could easily have happened to any bashful, awkward, disconcerted young person. the great error he made was in not going into society perfectly _self-possessed_, from having a right knowledge of what was proper in company. in the first place, he had _waited too long_ before entering into society, and, secondly, he had not informed himself at all upon the most common proprieties of the parlor. what else could have been expected than discomfiture and disgrace? as a rule, then, let us recommend all young persons to enter into social intercourse ere they become "of age." it is a most admirable experience to meet in friendly chat with a friend or two--to spend an evening with an intelligent lady, and to learn by degrees the confidence and reliance which will serve to carry you bravely through the evening at the brilliant rooms of fashion and gay company. it will be found, by both sexes, that timidity wears off rapidly by simple social converse; and the young man or woman who proposes to become a gentleman or lady should not fail to embrace every opportunity for meeting with well-mannered and intelligent friends--to spend an evening with them--to read, talk, walk, ride with them--to go out to concerts, to the theater, to the pic-nic, excursion, church, or evening party. timidity is not a sin--it is merely a _fault_ which will soon wear away, and a proper self-possession will take its place, if the novice in society will use all necessary means to overcome the feeling which takes fright at a smile, and is disconcerted by a frown. in seeking to overcome bashfulness, let there be a careful study to avoid the very common extreme of forwardness. this is the more unbearable because it is a sin of commission, while bashfulness is a sin of omission. to be forward, rude, intrusive, argues a sad want of good breeding which no leniency will overlook. in a female this rudeness is absolutely unbearable, because it so outrages all ideas of feminine graces and virtues--it makes us think the person _coarse_, and this very feeling divests us of the respect, the reverence which should always be felt for the "gentle sex." we say earnestly to those young girls who bandy words with provoking young men, who always romp when they are abroad, and win the name of being "independent," that you very much injure yourself in the estimation of all well-mannered persons, and do your character the injustice of having it considered _un_-feminine. be gay, be cheerful, be the spirit of every company, but at the same time preserve the delicacy, the refinement, the grace, which are the surest virtues for conquering admiration, for winning love. "snobs" are always impudent, and generally are ignorant persons. they are rude as the monkey is rude, because they really do not know what constitutes good breeding. their tailor literally "makes the man"--their whole mind is given to the tie of their cravat, and their boots absorb much of their hardest efforts at philosophy. they are simply nuisances--a blot on the fair name of man; and should be regarded as an _extensive_ species of ape. "fops" are not always "snobs." a person may be very vain of dress, and make a silly display of dry goods and jewelry, and still be very genteel and perfectly polished in manners. the love of show is a strong passion in a larger class of persons than is generally supposed, for many who do not wear the latest styles still have peculiarities of dress or ornament which are the result of as great a degree of vanity as besets the more gaudily dressed. it is a weakness to be vain of dress, for it places a virtue in goods which does not belong to it--it elevates a perishable and purchasable commodity above the truer and nobler attributes of mind. "bores" are a large class, and number such a variety of species as to baffle definition. let it suffice for us to say, a man or woman is a bore when they are _intruders_, either upon persons' time or company. to know when to leave, when to cease conversation, when to offer attentions, to solicit favors, is to know how to behave well; and no person will err who is educated in gentility, or whose apprehension of what is right is not befogged by "charming illusions." one of the worst bores we ever met was a female, who acted as a kind of purveyor-general to the community for every charity which called for an active benevolence. this lady would come into our study at any moment, would force us into hearing which we did not wish to hear, and into giving what we did not conscientiously think it right to give--so great was her faculty for "talking things into a person." she and her friends thought her a very valuable woman; we then thought her to be, and now know her to have been, a most unmitigated bore of the "benevolent" school. we have here described these several enemies of good breeding, because we do not wish to recur to them again: let us here beg of our readers to make such application of the suggestions as will prevent any of them from becoming either "snobs," "fops," or "bores." once in the presence of company, large or small, forget yourself so far as to become _one of the number_--lose yourself, your hands, and feet, and eyes, in the feeling of non-individualism, without which there really can be no real enjoyment. what is called _abandon_ is a sense of non-individuality--a forgetfulness of self so far as to enter keenly into the spirit of the time and occasion. give yourself no particular _anxiety_ about your person, your demeanor, your words and ways: you can, if not perfectly "at home," have a care to demean yourself well and creditably; but do not be anxious about it, for anxiety breeds a disquiet which is fatal to enjoyment and to a good impression upon others. good-nature is every thing in society, as in business--it overcomes many a mountain of difficulty, and achieves a success where no sternness or anxious solicitude would avail. in regard to the formulas of introductions, cards of invitation, etc., too much stress is laid by writers upon etiquette, who leave the impression that there is a whole chapter of greek verbs to learn before the debutant in society can become familiar with necessary forms. there is little, indeed, to cause alarm, the forms being just what any person's common-sense would dictate as being proper. we will give, in the chapter succeeding, such general observances and formulas for introductions, etc., as seem necessary to "post" our readers upon the subject. general observances, introductions, etc. among the gentilities of life, visits hold a first place, and deserve attention. their various occasion, their different character and purpose, their meaning are multiple, and have, therefore, some forms necessary to be preserved. we may remark that visits are classified as follows, viz.: visits of mere form and policy; visits of real friendship; visits of congratulation and of condolence; visits to give out invitations for dinner, or a dance, or an evening party; visits of state, where the party called upon is a "lion," an eminent person, etc., etc. the general style of dress to be adopted upon all these occasions, is one of studied neatness rather than of display or of elegance. display upon such occasions is really vulgar--it should be reserved for the gay and brilliant soiree or evening company, if it is made at all. the _time_ for the visit is _after_ twelve o'clock, noon; before that hour the lady of the house is supposed to be busy at her household duties, and in getting the rooms in order for the day: never make a call before that hour. occupy but a brief time in your call, for you know not how much the lady of the house may have to do, nor where she may wish to go, hence it is best always to make your call brief. if strongly urged to remain longer, it would be impolite to go in haste; but, as a general thing, let fifteen or twenty minutes be the time spent in the visit. you will not then be voted a "bore," but, on the other hand, will be considered a pleasant caller--particularly if you have made yourself agreeable. should another person be announced or enter on a visit before your own visit is finished, it is but proper for you immediately to retire, unless you may be intimate with both the host and the new-comer, and are invited to remain. otherwise be not precipitate to leave, but politely withdraw, for you do not know what "confidences" there may be to be talked over. visits of congratulation upon occasion of marriage, or safe return from a journey, or long absence, or escape from calamity, should be at as early a moment as the party seems ready for such visits; and should be always made when you entertain a regard for the person interested. it is now the practice for newly-married people to send out their cards to those of their old friends with whom they wish to renew acquaintance in their new relationships; and it is a sign that you do not wish to renew the acquaintance if you fail to respond to the card by calling. if you fail to call, the parties can not consistently recognize you afterward, except you have some good and sufficient apology to offer for your absence from their reception-rooms. visits of condolence are too much neglected in this "fast" country of ours. in europe the custom of calling upon those who have suffered a loss by death is quite general. the call, of course, should be brief, and the words offered of the kindest and most considerate character. it will greatly relieve the pangs of sorrow for the living to feel that others are solicitous for their welfare. after you have attended a party, soiree, or sociable, it is proper to call upon your host within a fortnight, to make inquiries after his or her health, and to remark upon the pleasure you experienced on the occasion of the party. this is a pleasant way of showing your friends that their efforts to please you are appreciated. new year visits, strangely enough, are not general in this country outside of a few large cities. the first day of the new year is set apart for general "calls," when houses are "open," and all are privileged to enter who are friends of the host, or who are in company with a person who is on the calling list of the house. it is _not_ proper for a perfect stranger to enter a room and introduce himself to the ladies present, just because the door is "open;" if you wish to call upon the receivers of company, get some proper friend to introduce you. even the freedom of new year's day will not excuse a liberty with strangers. in many instances houses are not open to "calls," on new year's day, for various reasons. in cases of this kind, it is a pleasant reminder of your existence, and of your wish to continue your social relations for the year, to send in your card sometime during january, or, what is better, to call sometime during the month, and re-establish yourself in the list of friends of the party. of the various _technicalities_ of these several occasions, we may say: never forget to enter the room with thoroughly-cleaned boots. always use the scraper and mats at the door. if you meet any one on the staircase, you should uncover, whoever it may be. you should do the same in case of an introduction. if you have a cane, keep it in your hand, and be careful not to make much noise with your boots. when a new visitor enters a drawing-room, if it be a gentleman, the ladies bow slightly; if a lady, every one rises. beware of asking the hour, or of taking out your watch during a visit; avoid spitting on the floor--your pocket-handkerchief will serve your purpose. to place your hat on any article of furniture when you enter a room is ungenteel; to lay it on a bed is unpardonable. you must hold it in your hand, or leave it with your over-coat in the anteroom. crossing the legs, and stretching them out at full length, are equally improper. the last arrival in a drawing-room takes a seat left vacant near the mistress of the house. a lady is not required to rise on receiving a gentleman, nor to accompany him to the door. if you are invited to lay down your hat, place it beside, _not_ before you. a _young_ man will avoid sitting in an arm-chair--which should always be awarded to the ladies or old gentlemen present. leave the seat next the fire to superiors in age or position. the children of the family should assist their parents in receiving visitors, relieve the ladies of their wrappings, provide seats, and accompany to the door. never look about you in a room, as if you were making an inventory. the gloves should not be removed during a visit. to brush your hat with your hand will expose you to the charge of extreme vulgarity. at the entrance of a visitor you should rise. a professional man in his office is alone exempted from this custom. a lady does not put her address on her visiting-card. we may here also add these further general hints and suggestions: naturalness is an essential item in good-breeding. hear what la bruyere thinks on this important question: "some young people do not sufficiently understand the advantages of natural charms, and how much they would gain by trusting to them entirely. they weaken these gifts of heaven, so rare and fragile, by affected manners and an awkward imitation. their tones and their gait are borrowed; they study their attitudes before the glass, until they have lost all trace of natural manner, and, with all their pains, they please but little." without being vain, a young girl should be careful of her person. nothing is more repugnant to good taste, than an air of neglect in the toilet and deportment of woman. the hair and head-dress especially require care and neatness. beware of imitating those people who never know what to do with their bodies, and can never keep their hands quiet. swinging on one's chair is extremely ill-bred. the eye-glass stuck in the eye, denotes either the dandy, the clerk, or the student. this custom is in no way disagreeable to the passers-by, but it has an air of ill-breeding and impertinence. to follow a lady in the street, and turn the head to stare at her, is still more impertinent than to do so in a promenade, especially in cities, for reasons which can not be further averted to in a book intended for young persons of both sexes. familiarity with servants should be avoided, but they should always be addressed with civility. some people, in speaking to you, have a silly habit of passing their hand through the hair, or stroking the mustache; some even carry a pocket-comb, which they produce on all occasions, for dressing the beard; others bite their nails, play with their watch-key, or jingle the money in their pocket; all these offences against propriety denote a want of good-breeding. excess in perfume should be avoided, lest the suspicion be excited that you deal in the odors that you inhale. good-sense has often more to do than education, in making a polished man. one of the essential qualities of good-breeding, is deserving general esteem by one's deportment. in little social games, a malicious girl will sometimes amuse herself by imposing on a companion a forfeit that will make her ridiculous; this shows a bad disposition of mind as well as ill-breeding. if, in offering a lady a gift, you select one that is very costly, you may be guilty of an impertinence. to speak in society of private matters, is extremely improper. turning up the sleeves on sitting down to table, as some persons do, is gross in the highest degree. a habit of swearing always marks a vulgar man. calling to the waiter with a loud voice in a public-room, and striking violently on the table, are indicative of extreme ignorance. a snuff-taker should not take out his box at table; his neighbor will be little pleased at receiving the stray grains in his plate. indiscreet questions are impertinent, as well as unseasonable harangues. you should be ready to act the knight, if a lady in your company is attacked. if she give offence, and that without reason, your office is that of mediator. you should even ask pardon for your companion. a bully would act otherwise; but it is absurd to get into a quarrel for the sake of maintaining that a person who is insolent has a right to be so, and that because he is of your company. you will show yourself, in acting thus, as ill-bred as he. if, in doing an obliging act, you make people feel the obligation, you deprive it entirely of its value. if you speak of a friend to a person who is not intimate with both him and you, preface his name with the word mr. it would not be proper to say to a servant or a porter, "is julius here?" you must say, "is mr. julius here?" a servant who understands propriety, always speaks of his superiors in the third person. when you receive a present, it would be an offence to the donor to dismiss the porter without a gratuity. if the honor of a woman be attacked, you should always defend it. it is not allowable for any one to assail the reputation of a lady, even if she be open to censure. in walking with a lady in the street, leave her the inner side of the pavement. if you meet friends in a narrow passage, or on a footpath, be careful not to block up the way. it would be very impolite to inconvenience the passers-by in this manner. in whatever society you are, it is unpardonable to remain covered in the presence of a lady. louis xiv., going one day on foot out of the castle of versailles, uncovered before a vender of cakes who was stationed near the gate. the courtiers having expressed their surprise; "gentlemen," said the monarch, "is not the king's mother a woman?" our readers may also remember the incident related of henry clay: a negro woman courtesied to him, when he raised his hat politely to her in return. "what!" said a friend, "do you recognize negroes?" the noble reply was: "i never allow negroes to excel me in good manners." when your visitor retires, you should accompany him to the anteroom, and save him the trouble of opening the door. in the case of a lady or an old gentleman, it is proper to go to the foot of the staircase. the formula of introductions. we shall say only a few words about presentations. the same form is always observed, "let me introduce to you mr. b.;" or, "mr. jones, allow me to present to you mr. smith;" or, "i have the honor to present to you my intimate friend." introduce no person until you are sure it is agreeable to _both_ parties. ladies should always be asked if they wish to know mr. ---- ere he is presented to them. the rule _invariably_ is, to introduce gentlemen _to_ ladies--_not_ ladies _to_ gentlemen. or, in case of men to men, always present the younger _to_ the older--the lesser _to_ the greater. we americans, in our disregard of rank and position, are too apt to overlook the courtesies established among gentlemen. the person thus presented bows, the host repeats the oft-spoken compliment, and, with a graceful rejoinder, the ceremony concludes. both ladies and gentlemen should be careful about introducing persons to each other, without being first satisfied that such a course will be mutually agreeable. the custom in this country, particularly among gentlemen, of indiscriminate introductions, is carried to such a ridiculous extent, that it has often been made the subject of comment by foreigners, who can discover no possible advantage in being made acquainted with others with whom they are not likely to associate for three minutes, in whom they take not the slightest interest, and whom they probably will never again encounter, nor recognize if they should. besides, every one has a right to exercise his own judgment and taste in the selection of acquaintances, and it is clearly a breach of politeness to thrust them upon your friend or associate, without knowing whether it will be agreeable to either party. on dress and ornaments. a man is judged of by his appearance, and seldom incorrectly. a neat exterior, equally free from extravagance and poverty, always proclaims a right-minded and sensible man. to dress appropriately, and with good taste, is to respect yourself and others. a black coat and trowsers are indispensable for a visit of ceremony, an entertainment, an evening party, or a ball. the white or black vest is equally proper in any of these cases. _very ceremonious_ visits require a dress shoe and a white vest. the hand should always be gloved on such occasions. always wear kids in dancing. a gentleman, when in dress and out of his business, should also walk out gloved. one hand may be uncovered; the one you will extend if you meet an acquaintance. if it be not well-bred for a gentleman out of business hours to appear in the street or at church without gloves, it is still less so for a lady. rings and heavy gold chains are _not_ in good taste. some young persons, of both sexes, have a strong desire to sport gold and jewels; but let them remember that such is the taste of gamblers and courtesans, and they may realize how really vulgar is too much jewelry. to a woman, the toilet is indeed a study, to which she should devote a proper portion of her time; and, sure of being well-skilled in the art, she is impatient of the observations of the critic. all do not, however, escape the charge of vulgarity. we sometimes see dresses in which the ill-assorted or showy colors spoil the effect of the richest material. the various articles of dress must be well-chosen, so as to produce an agreeable _harmony_. never put on a dark-colored bonnet with a light, spring costume. avoid uniting colors which will suggest an epigram--such as a straw-colored dress, with a green bonnet. [of the last-named style of head-gear you must especially beware, unless you have an extremely fair complexion; otherwise your malicious rivals will assert that your face resembles a citron, surrounded by its foliage.] the arrangements of the hair is an important affair. bands are becoming to faces of a grecian cast--while ringlets better suit those lively and expressive heads which resemble the beautiful ninon. but, whatever be your style of countenance, avoid a cumbrous edifice of lace mixed with hair, and let your flowers be few and choice. a spray or two of heath, the delicate blossoms of the jessamine, violets--orange blossoms, a white rose--these simple ornaments are most suitable to a young girl, and even of these she should not be too prodigal, for beauty _unadorned_ is adorned the most. in a married woman, a richer style of ornament is admissible. feathers in her bonnet, a necklace, a camellia or jewels in her hair are allowable in the wife, but for a young girl, a style of modest simplicity is far more impressive and becoming. we shall state what is known to be a fact, when we say ladies who attract most observation, are those dressed with the most studied simplicity, while those with most ornament are treated with less deference, and excite less compliment. an important maxim to be observed is, that the most elegant dress loses its merit, if it is not worn with grace. young girls often have an air of constraint, and their dress seems to partake of their want of ease. the celebrated sappho is said to have attended to the arrangement even of the folds of her mantle. she is indeed fortunate, who can give an easy flexibility to her figure, and graceful movements to her head: she will always appear graceful and well-dressed. there are women whose dress is extravagant--folly of this kind should be avoided: a simple style of dress is ever _proof_ of modesty, and one never loses by appearing to be modest. for many valuable recipes for the toilet, and hints and suggestions in reference to the complexion, the hair, the teeth, etc., see "beadle's dime recipe book." on cleanliness. if there be one thing that we should recommend more than another, it is cleanliness. we might, indeed, abstain from this caution, upon the supposition that the reader can not stand in need of it. but, to clear our conscience, we devote a chapter to the subject. the hands should receive special attention, as they serve for a specimen of the rest. every morning wash them with plenty of soap and water, then with the brush, clean your nails, cut them, and beware of the dark crescent which gets the name of half-mourning; nothing can be more disgusting. let your face and neck be clean; we particularly recommend attention to the ears. rinse your mouth often; in the morning, to remove the impurities of the night; after dinner, to avoid making others acquainted with the meats you have partaken of; and at night, before retiring to rest, that you may sleep more sweetly. if you are given to the really filthy habit of using tobacco, in _any_ shape, _never_ appear in any social circle, or to any friend for whom you have any respect, with the _odor_ of the stuff about you. let your use of it be as much in secret as possible. no gentleman will ever smoke a cigar where its smoke can give the least offence. in boston smoking is positively prohibited in the streets: it should be in every city. frequent baths are absolutely necessary, and still more, frequent foot-baths, with tepid water and soap; for the dust that one acquires in walking, changes its name at the end of three days, and in making a call, your friends will be aware of your presence before they have seen you. let your hat and clothes be carefully brushed. nothing is more disagreeable in either sex, than soiled shoes or stockings. it shows either great negligence or uncleanliness. let your linen be perfectly white, and your dress spotless. how often do we see women walking in the street with a torn or frayed dress, or a _broken_ stocking. idleness alone is the cause of such things; it is _so_ easy to stop a rent, and certainly it can not be said that thread is dear. a dress ever so simple, and cheap, if it be neat, is preferable to finery and dirt: one is respectable, the other is not. in the pocket-handkerchief great nicety should be observed, both from regard to appearances, and for the sake of personal comfort. it should be white and always clean. a dirty handkerchief is an abomination. a drop of perfume on it will make it all the pleasanter to yourself and to others. perfect cleanliness in _all_ things gives one a feeling of self-respect. it not only affords an agreeable sensation of comfort, but imparts an air of confidence, springing from the consciousness that you need not fear the investigations or ridicule of any who approach you. it will procure you an acquittal for many little defects of heart, or mind, or temper, and win you respect where you may least expect to make a favorable impression. conversation. it is rare to meet with persons who can converse agreeably; and yet how many kinds of talkers there are in the world. first comes the man who details his own adventures, bringing in even his boyish escapades, in order to keep up the continuous discharge; the gastronomic talker, who regales you with a description of famous dishes; the detailer of empty trifles; the exquisite leander of every hysterical dame; the universal grumbler, who sees nothing of the sun but its spots; the self-constituted reporter of every kind of scandal; with many others too numerous to mention. if you wish to make yourself agreeable to a lady, turn the conversation adroitly upon taste, or art, or books, or persons, or events of the day. make her smile--suffer her to be superior in any encounter of wit--and she will pronounce you "the most charming of men." you will have shown yourself clever and well-bred. never seem studied in your phrases, nor talk above the comprehension or contrary to the taste of the person addressed, otherwise you may be voted either a pedant or a bore. the woman who wishes her conversation to be agreeable will avoid conceit or affectation, and laughter which is not natural and spontaneous. her language will be easy and unstudied, marked by a graceful carelessness, which, at the same time, never oversteps the limits of propriety. her lips will readily yield to a pleasant smile; she will not love to hear herself talk; her tones will bear the impress of sincerity, and her eyes kindle with animation, as she speaks. the art of pleasing is, in truth, the very soul of good-breeding; for the precise object of the latter is to render us agreeable to all with whom we associate: to make us, at the same time, esteemed and loved. we need scarcely advert to the rudeness of interrupting any one who is speaking, or to the impropriety of pushing, to its full extent, a discussion which has become unpleasant. some men have a mania for greek and latin quotations; this is a peculiarity to be avoided. nothing is more wearisome than pedantry. if you feel your intellectual superiority to any one with whom you are conversing, do not seek to bear him down; it would be an inglorious triumph and a breach of good manners. beware, too, of speaking lightly of subjects which bear a sacred character. no person, man or woman, will think the more of you for irreligious expression. witlings occasionally gain a reputation in society; but nothing is more insipid and in worse taste than their conceited harangues and self-sufficient air. do not try to be witty. true wit comes spontaneously, and is not forced. it is a common idea that the art of writing and the art of conversation are one; this is a great mistake. a man of genius may be a very dull talker. the two grand modes of making conversation interesting, are to enliven it by recitals calculated to affect and impress your hearers, and to intersperse it with anecdotes and agreeable relations. address of letters, directions for writing, etc. a letter addressed to a person of eminence should have a seal on the envelope; for other letters the ordinary envelope is sufficient. letter paper (other than for business) with designs of any kind is in questionable taste, as are seals ornamented with flowers and figures. perfectly plain paper should be preferred: it may be embossed with the writer's initials. on the birth-days of your relations, and on the festival of the new year, you can hardly dispense with written congratulations. in writing to a superior employ paper of full "letter" size; write the name, and in the line underneath the words, "dear sir." leave a line between this word and the first line of your letter. always write to the point--using not a superfluous or meaningless word, and be as brief as possible. abbreviations are admissible in notes entered in a book of reference, but not elsewhere, except in commercial correspondence. letters of invitation and circulars should always be franked; and if the distance be not too great, they should be sent by hand. a letter given to a third person, if it be a letter of introduction, should _not_ be sealed. in writing to an official, leave a large margin, for he may need it for marginal notes. a young man writing to one advanced in years, should not conclude his letter with the common phrase, "receive, sir, the assurance of my regard." it should be, "accept, sir, this expression of the regards of your very humble servant." this formula may be employed in writing to an equal, "accept, sir, the assurance of my highest esteem;" or, "i have the honor to be yours, very truly." to a lady, "accept, madam, the assurance of my respect;" or, "i am, my dear lady, yours very sincerely." it is ill-bred to write on a half-sheet; the shortest letter requires a whole one. all letters must be pre-paid. and stamps should _always_ be remitted, where an answer is expected, if your own affairs are concerned. never impose postage upon a friend: it is a contemptible act to make a person, after the trouble of writing to you on your business, pay his own postage. a few words on epistolary style. few persons know how to write a good letter. the epistolary style, in general, should be very simple; pathos would be absurd where you have to speak of the common occurrences of life, the follies of the world, its petty hatreds and vanities. be as respectful and as lively as you can in writing to an old man: old people love sprightliness. the surest way to please in your correspondence is to acquaint yourself with the characters of the persons with whom you interchange letters, to avoid touching their foibles, to speak to them on the subjects they have studied, or of which they are especially fond. in addressing a lady, imply your opinion of her taste by seeking her advice on subjects which require it. never weary of burning incense; there is an altar in the heart of woman, and even of man, always ready to receive its fragrance. the design of good-breeding is to make you agreeable to every one; write your letters so that each one reading them will be pleased and satisfied. adulation or flattery is very unbecoming, except it is positively deserved; and then it should be given in terms which will not compromise good taste and good judgment. if there be a phrase happily worded in the letter addressed to you, ever so little, do not suffer it to fall to the ground; preserve it, and in your reply, show that you have appreciated it. if a correspondent uses improper language toward you, let your reply be polite, even if it is severe; you will thus inflict a double wound--showing yourself to be a man of dignity, and know how to preserve your self-respect. refrain from addressing extravagant praise to a man of discernment; he will see that you have some purpose in what you say, and you will make an enemy. no praise is extravagant to fools; tell them that they are gods, and they will set about procuring an altar; but you would view yourself with contempt if you were mean enough to praise such. avoid the folly of copying, _as models_, letters to which peculiar circumstances impart brilliancy or genuine wit; but which, applied from different cases, are strangely out of place. if you address one beneath you in education or position, don't make him feel his inferiority; be polite without familiarity, as politeness is _due_ from every man of good parts to those beneath him. if you write an epistle respecting a common occurrence in a style of bombast or would-be-eloquence, you will suggest an application to yourself of the fable of the mountain which brought forth a mouse. in all cases, where it is possible, avoid erasures and crowded lines. letters between friends are simply conversation; from an inferior to a superior they should have a tone of caution, at once concise and respectful. a letter of business is expressed in brief and precise terms, with details arranged in exact order. letters of congratulation should be distinguished for choice language, to the exclusion of all expressions parasitical or common-place. as to the style which a son should employ in writing to his parents, there is no instructor but the heart. in every case and circumstance be truthful and earnest, and you may rest assured you will impress favorably, and accomplish your purpose a thousandfold better than if you used deceitful and false expressions. the dime letter writer will embody all that is necessary to enable the young person, or the novice, to write letters intelligibly, properly, and satisfactorily. it will contain besides models for hints, a complete directory to correct composition. balls, evening-parties, receptions, etc. to deport oneself satisfactorily at the dance, it is necessary to understand much about the dances which may be introduced. it is a charming accomplishment to be a good dancer, and we shall not hesitate to advise all, male and female, to learn the terpsichorean art, ere the days of youth are past. it is unnecessary to argue the _pros_ and _cons_ of the proprieties and moralities of the dance; we prefer to let each judge for him or herself on the debated question; but, that it is a real accomplishment, and a desirable one, to be familiar with the etiquette and technicalities of the ball or soiree, is our most firm conviction, and we therefore introduce such observations and rules here as should govern the occasions of balls, soirees, receptions, etc. an invitation to a dance should be given at least a week beforehand. a lady sometimes requires time to prepare her toilet. the host of the house receives you; and after the usual compliments, which should be very brief, do not fail in polite recognitions to any lady in the company with whom you are acquainted. if you introduce a friend, make him acquainted with the names of the chief persons present; by this precaution you will often save him an indiscretion; and make him feel more at his ease. these ball-room introductions are _not_ regarded as introductions for a more extended acquaintance than for the evening. should the parties afterward meet upon the street or elsewhere, let the gentleman be careful not to presume upon any recognition of the lady until _she_ has _first_ bowed. if she fails to extend this recognition, let the gentleman take no umbrage, for he has no real claim upon her acquaintance merely from a public ball-room introduction. an introduction at a _private_ soiree is another thing; there the relations of the parties introduced are the same as at any private party: they are _permanently_ introduced if at all. if a gentleman escorts a lady to the dance, he is her cavalier for the evening; he must see that she is always provided with agreeable partners; that she always has a seat when required; has the necessary refreshments, etc. he must dance with her _first_ of all, and as often, during the evening, as is proper, considering the claims of others and the wishes of the lady. avoid seeking the same partner (other than your lady _en charge_) in the dance too often; you will excite remark, and will expose yourself to the charge of partiality or perhaps of coquetry. it is a graceful attention in a young man to select as partners those ladies whose want of personal attractions condemn them to the terrible punishment of being the "wall-flowers" of the evening. such attentions will procure you a feeling of grateful regard, especially if you acquit yourself with tact and real kindness. if a married lady is present, and dancing while her husband is in the room, a person desiring her for a partner should first _be sure_ that it is agreeable to the husband for him to offer his hand to the lady. if a crowd is present, and a gentleman has occasion to make his way through a press of crinoline and drapery, he should proceed most carefully--haste would be very rude and inexcusable; the danger of soiling, or tearing, or disarranging a lady's costume forbids any gentleman making a careless step. if it is necessary to step in front of a lady in passing, always apologize for the step; otherwise she may very properly think you do not know what belongs to good manners. a lady is always _pleased_ with an _apology_ if it is gracefully and kindly made; and no gentleman will ever suffer such an occasion to pass in silence, without he really designs an affront, or except he is absolutely ignorant of what is proper and respectful. a good authority before us says:--in a quadrille, or other dance, while awaiting the music, or while unengaged, a lady and gentleman should avoid long conversations, as they are apt to interfere with the progress of the dance; while, on the other hand, a gentleman should not stand like an automaton, as though he were afraid of his partner, but endeavor to render himself agreeable by those "airy nothings" which amuse for the moment, and are in harmony with the occasion. you should, however, not only on such occasions, but invariably, avoid the use of _slang_ terms and phrases, they being, to the last degree, vulgar and objectionable. indeed, one of the charms of conversation consists in the correct use of language. dr. johnson, whose reputation as a _talker_ was hardly less than that which he acquired as a writer, prided himself on the appositeness of his quotations, the choice of his words, and the correctness of his expressions. had he lived in this "age of progress," he would have discovered that his lexicon was not only incomplete, but required numerous emendations. we can fancy the irritable moralist endeavoring to comprehend the idea which a young lady wishes to convey, when she expresses the opinion that a bonnet is "_awful_," or a young gentleman of his coat, when he asserts that it is "_played out_!" if any one thing marks a person's "bringing up," it is the language used in company; and it may be set down as an almost invariable rule, that any one who uses _slang_ words, who talks loudly and rudely, who utters an oath, or who becomes angered and expresses it, is _no_ gentleman, and has not had good associations. for a _lady_ to be guilty of even one of these sins, is too palpably inexcusable to need remark. the author quoted above, adds this excellent advice upon a very common ball-room sin, viz.: scandal and strictures upon a person's appearance, dress, etc. he says:--"there is a custom which is sometimes practiced both in the assembly-room and at private parties, which can not be too strongly reprehended,--we allude to the habit of ridicule and ungenerous criticism of those who are ungraceful, or otherwise obnoxious to censure, which is indulged in by the thoughtless, particularly among the dancers. of its gross impropriety and vulgarity we need hardly express an opinion; but there is such an utter disregard for the feelings of others implied in this kind of negative censorship, that we can not forbear to warn our young readers to avoid it. the 'koran' says: 'do not mock--the mocked may be better than the mocker.' those you condemn may not have had the same advantages as yourself in acquiring grace or dignity, while they may be infinitely superior in purity of heart and mental accomplishments. the advice of chesterfield to his son, in his commerce with society, to _do as you would be done by_, is founded on the christian precept, and worthy of commendation. imagine yourself the victim of others' ridicule, and you will cease to indulge in a pastime which only gains for you the hatred of those you satirize, if they chance to observe you, and the contempt of others who have noticed your violation of politeness, and abuse of true sociality." ladies will always be careful of their associates. at the public ball are occasionally to be found persons whose acquaintance it is not proper to make. the young female is ever the cynosure of all eyes, and can not comport herself too strictly, nor choose her partners too carefully. it is not best to be "prudish," but it is right and necessary to be cautious and discreet. in walking up or down the room the lady should always be accompanied by a gentleman; it is quite improper to saunter around alone. when a young lady declines dancing with a gentleman, it is her duty to give him a reason why, although some thoughtless ones do not. no matter how frivolous it may be, it is simply an act of courtesy to offer him an excuse; while, on the other hand, no gentleman ought so far to compromise his self-respect as to take the slightest offence at seeing a lady by whom he has just been refused, dance immediately after with some one else. a lady has a hundred motives for conduct which she can not explain; and for a gentleman to take offence at her simple declination to dance is very silly and unmanly. during the act of dancing all parties should have on their summer looks. dancing is rightly supposed to be an _enjoyment_, but the somber countenances of some who engage in it, might almost lead to the belief that it were a solemn duty being performed. if, says a shrewd observer, those who laugh in church would transfer their merriment to the assembly-room, and those who are sad in the assembly-room would carry their gravity to the church, they both might discover the appositeness of solomon's declaration, that "there is a time to be merry and a time to be sad." it should ever be the study of both sexes to render themselves agreeable. gentlemen, as we have said, should avoid showing _marked_ preference to particular ladies, by devoting their undivided attentions to them, or dancing exclusively with them. too often, the "belle of the evening," with no other charms than beauty of form and feature, monopolizes the regards of a circle of admirers, while modest merit, of less personal attraction, is both overlooked and neglected. we honor the generous conduct of those, particularly the "well-favored," who bestow their attentions on ladies who, from conscious lack of beauty, least expect them. the real man of sense will not fail to recognize most solicitously any lady who may seem neglected or unattended. on the other hand, no lady, however numerous the solicitations of her admirers, should consent to dance repeatedly when, by so doing, she excludes other ladies from participating in the same amusement; still less, as we have hinted, should she dance exclusively with the same gentleman, to the disadvantage of others. what has elsewhere been said in regard to dress and ornament will apply fully to the occasion of the dance. let _simplicity_ be the guide, and not display. the lady tricked out in many jewels and ribbons looks too much like a moving advertisement to command respect for it. if ladies generally knew how deep an impression a pure style of dress makes upon the other sex, and realized how trifling a gaudy dress seems to the person of true taste, we surmise their vanity alone would impel to simpler attire, rather than to elaborate and costly display. in regard to a gentleman's dress for the dance, we may add: white gloves, white vest, light colored cravat, dress-coat, black pants, and patent-leather gaiters, or light calf-skin boots well polished, constitute the proper ball-room or soiree costume. the much talked of "independence" of americans, professes disdain of many of the requisitions of dress established by good usage in england and france. a _frock_-coat would not be tolerated a moment in any fashionable society in europe. whether it be esteemed a prejudice or otherwise, we are free to confess that, in our own opinion, the frock-coat is a violation of good taste, as unsuited either to a ball-room or private assembly. the ordinary dress-coat, which is in no respect in the way, and which leaves the limbs perfectly free to move gracefully, is the only proper coat for the party and dance. when a lady has accepted refreshment, her attending gentleman should hasten to relieve her of her glass or plate; and, as her cavalier, should see that all her wants and wishes have been complied with. the refreshments over, the gentleman should offer his arm and gallant the lady to her seat in the ball-room; or, if she wishes to retire to the dress-room, he should gallant her to the door, and there await her coming out to convey her to the dancing-floor again. the ladies dressing-room, it is unnecessary to say, is a sacred precinct into which no man should ever presume to look; to go into it would be an outrage which none could overlook or forgive. when the hour comes for retiring home, be sure to be ready for the lady whom you have accompanied to the dance; your obligations are not discharged until she is again, under your own eyes, seen safely at her own door. if you have come to the room unattended, select, during the latter part of the evening, some lady who, it may seem, will be glad of your company home; offer her your services and, if she signifies assent, be careful to be ready at her call. await at the door of the dressing-room for her, and offering your arm do the gallant kindly but not ostentatiously nor too officiously. leave her at her own door, after the bell has been answered, and not until then. in leaving an evening-party it is unnecessary to seek the master of the house. your farewell will be dispensed with; you should leave without disturbing any one to occasion remark. this rule is often misunderstood, but it should not be. cards, chess, etc. it is well at a ball, to have a table for cards and men for chess: for all the guests are not dancers, and it is the duty of a host to see that _all_ enjoy themselves. it is customary for partners to bow slightly to each other before beginning a game of cards or chess. when a game of cards is ended, and the "shuffle" is your partner's, the cards should be arranged and handed to the lady whose turn it is to deal them. to discuss the rules of play is ungenteel. in a quiet party the tact and cordiality of the entertainers should put all the guests at their ease. the choice of the guests is not one of the least difficult points. at the house of a political man, there should be an effort to unite all shades of opinion. from parties of any kind, a man known for his gratuitous rudeness, or for the impropriety of his witticism, will be excluded by all who are desirous of maintaining the proprieties of social intercourse. opposing politicians, editors, lawyers, and ministers should _never_ carry their _professional_ feelings into the parlor, nor, by any expression, mar the good-humor of an evening. it is improper to express your opinion loudly in company, or to remain long at the card-table when you are young and known to be a good dancer. it is a delicate attention to stand behind a lady at the piano and turn over the leaves of her music-book, and after the music to gallant her to her seat. after the dance, a gentleman must not omit to conduct his partner to her seat; and in so doing, a well-turned compliment will not be out of place. we have noted the impropriety of a young man's remaining long at the chess or the card table, when the ladies are in want of a partner in the adjoining room. at the same time, a gentleman should be acquainted with one or more games, as it is polite to play with the host or his guests, if you are invited to do so. some persons, in playing cards, show an effort to conceal their hand; this is ill-bred. if it be a pleasure to spectators to watch the game, why should you object to it? even if it be disagreeable to you to be overlooked, you should not let it appear. you will sometimes see one partner reproach another sharply for unskillful play; thus convicting himself of being more unskilled in the science of good-breeding. the man who utters noisy complaints about his luck, or manifests unseemly joy at winning a game, raising his voice to a high key on all occasions, is so ignorant as to be unworthy of admission into a drawing-room. in playing chess, avoid the other extreme of being too silent and abstracted, for such conduct is only fit for the study. use a cheerful air, and make others feel your geniality, if you would win hearts as well as games. entertainments, dinner-parties, etc. "to give an invitation," says a brilliant writer, "is to take the responsibility of your guest's happiness during the time he is under your roof." this is an ambitious view of the subject; we will alter it thus: "to invite a man, is to undertake to do all in your power to make him feel satisfied with the pleasure you offer him." in order to do which, it is essential to know the tastes of your guests. to invite two persons at enmity with each other, to an entertainment, is a blunder; it is unpardonable to bring such together in a small party, unless, indeed, the way to reconciliation lies open; and even in this case there is an awkwardness in the presence of enemies, which will not fail to render their presence unpleasant to others. "the pleasures of the table," says the author of the "physiology of taste," "belong to all ages, to all ranks, to all countries; they may be enjoyed with all other pleasures, and remain the longest to console us for their loss." that this enjoyment may be undisturbed, take care that nothing occurs to chagrin any of the guests; if, therefore, the conversation falls upon a subject disagreeable to any one present, good-breeding requires that the host should skillfully turn it upon another topic. an invitation to dinner should be given at least two days beforehand, except in extraordinary cases. from an inferior to a superior, it should be made in person. in ceremonious dinners, the place of each guest is assigned beforehand; you thus avoid putting several ladies together. each one should have a gentleman next her. the host offers his arm to the lady deserving of most consideration. young people should yield to those more advanced in years. do not forget, in passing the threshold of a door, to _precede_ the lady who leans on your arm. this is an exception to the general rule; in every other case, the gentleman should retire a step, to allow the lady to pass. before passing into the dining-room, each gentleman offers his _left_ arm to a lady, and conducts her to table. beware of arriving too early or too late: in either case there is an awkwardness--in the former you inconvenience your host; in the latter, his guests. once at table, you should not lose sight of the plate or glass of your fair neighbor, showing yourself attentive, without affectation or over-officiousness. meat should be cut only according as it is carried to the mouth. to cut up a plateful is the very height of greediness and ill-breeding. bread is broken as it is wanted; after soup, which is served out by the host, the spoon remains on the plate, as it will not be used again. where wine is used, three glasses are usually laid down to each guest at dinner: one for ordinary wines; another of smaller size for claret; the third to receive the sparkling foam of the champagne. in drinking you should say to your neighbor, "sir, may i offer you?" and not employ the ungenteel phrase, "will you take?" as if you were at the bar of some ordinary drinking-saloon. if the dish that you desire be too far from your neighbor, do not ask another guest; the servant will attend your orders. the noise of the knife and plate should be heard as little as possible; rapidity in eating is also ill-bred. a knowledge of carving is indispensable to all men who would act the host with grace and propriety. do not assist yourself to any dish where servants stand ready to supply you. some persons use their bread at dinner to dry up their plates; this is intolerable beyond the family circle, and even there is rather childish. parents should be careful to save their children from awkwardness in company, either in treading on a lady's dress, or using the knife in eating; or worse still, their fingers. never take any thing out of your pocket to lay on the table. the napkin should rest on the knees, only half unfolded. the fork is never to be laid on its back. the host has the knives changed for dessert. the knife and fork, and the table utensils generally should never be handed endways, but should be held by the middle. coffee is generally served after passing into the drawing room. the lady of the house fills it out if it be after dinner; after breakfast this office may be left to a servant. the hostess should not seek to outvie her guests in the costliness of her toilet. this would be in bad taste. in england, it is the custom for ladies to retire a little before the close of the meal. american ladies are not disposed to admire this habit, and we are too gallant and too anxious to enjoy the charm of their conversation, to subject them to this mode of banishment. the lady of the house should show the same solicitude for all her guests, and take care that they want for nothing. in some houses, a custom has been adopted, which appears to us vulgar, viz: the gentlemen retire from the company for a short time _to smoke_; on their return to the ladies, their clothes and breath exhale the disagreeable perfume. there are few well-bred women to whom tobacco is not extremely offensive. the host rises to leave the table; you must remember not to fold your napkin, as is usual in the family, where the same napkin serves you several times. each gentleman offers his arm to a lady, and conducts her back to the drawing-room. the romans knew how to enhance, by enjoyments unknown to us, the pleasures of the table; and the greeks threw more poetry into their festivals than our somewhat prosaic eaters. at the banquets of greece, the sculptured cups were crowned with roses; singers and musicians enlivened the close of the repast; and the wit of the professed jester contributed to the entertainment of the guests. the table and side-board and mantels will always look more inviting when dressed tastefully in flowers. a sweet bouquet before each lady is a personal compliment which it is easy to bestow, and one which can not fail to please the guests. etiquette of the street. good behavior upon the street, or public promenade, marks the gentleman most effectually; rudeness, incivility, disregard of "what the world says," marks the person of low breeding. we always know, in walking a square with a man, if he is a gentleman or not. a real gentility never does the following things on the street, in presence of observers:-- never picks the teeth, nor scratches the head. never swears or talks uproariously. never picks the nose with the finger. never smokes, or spits upon the walk, to the exceeding annoyance of those who are always disgusted with tobacco in any shape. never stares at any one, man or woman, in a marked manner. never scans a lady's dress impertinently, and makes no rude remarks about her. never crowds before promenaders in a rough or hurried way. never jostles a lady or gentleman without an "excuse me." never treads upon a lady's dress without begging pardon. never loses temper, nor attracts attention by excited conversation. never dresses in an odd or singular manner, so as to create remark. never fails to raise his hat politely to a lady acquaintance; nor to a male friend who may be walking with a lady--it is a courtesy to the lady. of course a lady will not be rude, nor dress so as attract undue attention, much less to create unpleasant remark. she will be kind to all; she will not absorb too much of the walk, nor fail to give half the way to either a lady or gentleman; she will not allow her skirts to drag upon the walk to the annoyance of other pedestrians; she will not fail to recognize friends by a pleasant smile and slight bow; she will not look back at any one who has passed her; she will not eye another lady's dress, as if studying its very texture; she will not stop upon the walk to talk with a friend to the inconvenience of others; she will not make the street a place of meeting with a person whom she can not receive at her house. some females do, it is true, not regard all these laws of proper and recognized etiquette; and such, we are forced to say, forfeit their claim to be called a lady. a true lady in the street, as in the parlor or _salon_, is modest, discreet, kind, obliging; if she is to the contrary, she forfeits her right to be called after the truly genteel. it is a most unfailing mark of ignorance and low origin to "put on airs," and to show pride, vanity, egotism in the street. the truly well-educated, well-born, and well-bred _never_ betray vanity, conceit, superciliousness, nor hauteur. set this down as an invariable law, and, male or female, let it guide all your actions. it is proper that the lady should _first_ recognize the gentleman. there has been some dispute on this point of etiquette, but we think there can be no question of the propriety of the first recognition coming from the lady. a gentleman will never fail to bow in return to a lady, even if he may feel coldly disposed toward her; but a lady may not feel at liberty to return a gentleman's bow, which places him in a rather unpleasant position. a lady should give the first smile or bow, is the rule now recognized. in meeting acquaintances several times during the same promenade, it is not necessary to salute them at every passing. in offering a lady your arm, as it is proper to do upon the street, particularly in the evening, always give her the _right_ arm, because persons in passing, observing the law "turn to the right," would jostle her if she was upon the left arm. the practice of always giving the lady the inside of the walk, is a very useless one, and not necessary to true politeness. it is always proper for a gentleman walking alone, or with another of his sex, to give the lady, or a gentleman with a lady, the inside of the walk. in gallanting a lady to a carriage, take her left hand. it is truly polite to take off the hat in such a service. the politeness of business. a volume might with propriety be written on business proprieties, for the rules of good-breeding are so outrageously violated by employees and employers, that to detail their shortcomings would require many pages. but in business as in all other intercourse, the one invariable law of good-breeding, viz.: kindness, offers the key to all true mode of conduct. be kind and considerate, and you will do right. the upright and model man of business never commits any of the following sins:-- never tells a falsehood, even though at times it may offer a temporary advantage. in the end it will not result happily--neither to conscience nor to the till. it is one of the fixed laws of compensations that a wrong entails evil, sooner or later; hence, even in a selfish view, it is best always to tell the truth. never creates false expectations to effect a transaction. never represents an article to be what it is not. the secret of the success of a. t. stewart, and other merchants of eminence, is that they never would allow any deception to be practiced upon customers. a child can buy of them as safely as an experienced person. never breaks appointments, and never fails to keep good his word to the hour and the letter, if there is no just cause to prevent. never is absent from his business, except when absolutely necessary. never allows others in his employ to do what is not perfectly intelligible to him. always understands his books; always keeps the run of the entire day's transactions; always knows the exact state of his bank account; always is acquainted with the doings of each one in his employ. if called upon by any person he is polite; he gives no curt answers; he keeps none waiting unnecessarily; he is solicitous of doing what will most please. in a word, the secret of business success, and the true criterion of action for the business man, young or old, is to be found in that blessed golden rule, which will forever hold good, viz.:-- _do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you._ advice to the working-man. let it not be said that the first principles of good breeding are unknown to the working-man; he may be ignorant of the usages of society, but he can, if he please, maintain a becoming and agreeable deportment. what generally makes him coarse and surly, is the prejudice, unhappily too widely spread, that the rich man feels above him. this is a great mistake; it is not the blouse that is shunned, it is the rudeness of the man who wears it. labor is always held in esteem by any man of sense; but who can regard coarseness and rudeness with respect? two workmen enter a saloon, they talk as if in the street, abuse those whom they name "aristocrats," and make such a disturbance, that the waiter shows them to the door. is it the working-man who is thus used? no, verily, it is the insulter of the public. a man in broadcloth, who should conduct himself thus, would, in like manner, be requested to retire from the company of those whom he was disturbing. however, the operative thus treated, always exclaims: "though one is a workman, he is as good as you." but, in this case, he is not in the character of a working-man, but in that of a consumer, like all the others seeking their comfort or pleasure; none of whom would think of saying, if such a thing happened to them, "i am a lawyer;" or, "i am a physician;" or, "i am an officer." in a public establishment, such as a _cafe_, or hotel, or in public conveyances, all are equal, and no one should be suffered to be insolent, or vulgar, or rude. the rich man, on his part, knows that there are laws of politeness to be observed toward all. the upstart or snob alone gives himself the habit of speaking rudely to those he employs; he alone affects to humble them by his tone of superiority. the man of _true_ nobility is polite to every one, be he rich or poor. love, courtship, and marriage.[a] in the matter of love it would be hard to lay down any formal rules; the heart is its own teacher; if _its_ impulses be true and pure, your looks, words, and actions will be in no danger of doing you any particular discredit. even awkwardness is sometimes eloquent, and makes a better companion than the most elegant self-possession, since it proclaims the reality of your passion, and the diffidence of real affection. love has a language of its own, and will not thank any book of etiquette for a lesson. if the maiden be modest, and the youth sincere and manly, they will appreciate and understand each other without danger of mistakes. it has been said that any refined and delicate woman can _prevent_ an offer which she does not intend to accept, and we believe that, in most cases, she can; saving herself the pain of refusal, and her lover the mortification of being rejected. it is a poor triumph for a young lady to say, or to feel, that she has refused five, ten, or twenty offers of marriage; it is about the same as acknowledging herself a trifler and coquette, who, from motives of personal vanity, tempts and induces hopes and expectations which she has predetermined shall be disappointed. such a course is, to a certain degree, both unprincipled and immodest. it is a still greater crime when a man conveys the impression that he is in love, by actions, gallantries, looks, attentions, all--except that he never commits himself--and finally withdraws his devotions, exulting in the thought that he has said or written nothing which can legally bind him. but true love, as we remarked before, will find for itself some becoming expression and-- "needs not the foreign child of ornament." love, of course, unless some insuperable barrier exists, will be followed in due time by courtship. here some formalities will begin to be observed. the passion which blushed to own itself to itself, having been crowned, becomes a matter of interest to others than the two most particularly concerned. if a young man thinks fit to address himself _first_ to the young lady, to find if his attentions be agreeable to her, he should not delay, after gaining her consent to them, to respectfully solicit the approval of her parents or guardians. this is due to them, and should not be put off on account of any unworthy fear or timidity. it is customary in some circles for the parents to make the betrothal immediately known to their friends, and even to give a kind of preliminary festival at which the couple are publicly congratulated. good taste will dictate the avoidance of any expression of fondness between the parties when in company. envy and satire are ever on the look-out for subjects of ridicule, and it is well to give them no opportunity. sentiment which is beautiful in the family circle, is often odious in society. the same rule holds good with relatives and newly-married people. their devotion to each other should be put aside, and the claims of others upon their courtesy and time duly honored. the amount of attention permissible before marriage, such as walking, driving, concert-going, etc., depends very much upon the customs of the place in which the persons reside. public opinion and habit should not be invaded without some good and weighty reason, even with the most innocent purposes. it can not be desirable to provoke remark and censure, however indifferent you may feel towards its authors. the marriage ceremony varies with the fortunes and wishes of those interested. in regard to the form of the rite, no specific direction are necessary; for those who are to be married by ministers, will study the form of their particular church--the methodists their "book of discipline," the episcopalians their "book of common prayer," the catholics their ritual, etc., etc. in most cases a rehearsal of the ceremony is made in private, that the pair may the more perfectly understand the necessary forms. if the parties are to be wedded by a magistrate, the ceremony is almost nominal--it is a mere repetition of a vow. the catholic and episcopal forms have the most ceremony, and doubtless are the most impressive, though no more effectually marrying than the simplest form. there are, however, some generally received rules which govern this momentous and interesting occasion, and to these we refer all interested. when the wedding is not strictly in private, it is customary for bridesmaids and groomsmen to be chosen to assist in the duties of the occasion. the bridesmaids should be _younger_ than the bride; their dresses should be _conformed to hers_; they should not be any more expensive, though they are permitted more ornament. they are generally chosen of light, graceful material; flowers are the principal decoration. the bride's dress is marked by simplicity. but few jewels or ornaments should be worn, and those should be the gift of the bridegroom or parents. a veil and garland are the distinguishing features of the dress. the bridesmaids assist in dressing the bride, receiving the company, etc.; and, at the time of the ceremony, stand at her _left_ side, the first bridesmaid holding the bouquet and gloves. the groomsmen receive the clergyman, present him to the couple to be married, and support the bridegroom upon the _right_, during the ceremony. if it is an evening wedding, at home, immediately after "these twain are made one," they are congratulated: first by the relatives, then by the friends, receiving the good wishes of all; after which, they are at liberty to leave their formal position, and mingle with the company. the dresses, supper, etc., are usually more festive and gay than for a morning wedding and reception, where the friends stop for a few moments only, to congratulate the newly-married pair, taste the cake and wine, and hurry away. when the ceremony is performed in church, the bride enters at the _left_, with her father, mother, and bridesmaids; or, at all events, with a bridesmaid. the groom enters at the _right_, followed by his attendants. the parents stand behind, the attendants at either side. the bride should be certain that her glove is readily removable; the groom, that the ring is where he can find it, to avoid delay and embarrassment. when they leave the church, the newly-married couple walk arm-in-arm. they have usually a reception of a couple of hours at home, for their intimate friends, then a breakfast, then leave upon the "bridal tour." the wording of invitations, and the styles of cards, are so constantly changing, that it will not do to lay down rules. cards of invitation _to_ the wedding are usually sent out in the _name of the mother_. [see page .] a few days before the return of the wedded pair, their own especial card is sent to those whom they desire shall call upon them, and whose acquaintance they wish to retain. however plain the dress chosen for the occasion, gloves and shoes must be faultless. there should be flowers if possible; they are never more in place. the fee of the clergyman will be decided by the fortune and position of the groom. no doubt, in the joy of his heart, the just married will be liberal; if he is not, upon _this_ occasion, he never will be. the _first groomsman_ will take charge of this matter. the travelling dresses should not be marked by "bridal favors," if the happy couple wish to avoid the curious scrutiny of strangers. married people should never intrude "family jars" nor family devotion upon company. husband and wife should be pleasant and affectionate in their demeanor, with a show of reserve, while in the presence of "the world." it is improper to say "husband" and "wife," in speaking of your companion to others. use their title, as mr. or mrs.--that is, to all but intimate friends. especially, do not introduce, "my wife," or "my husband." caresses, disagreements, and significant glances betraying secret intelligence, are all out of place in general company. the "honeymoon" is a mythic time. it is generally regarded as extending to the first six weeks, during which period the young couple must give themselves up to receptions of friends, to attending parties made in their honor, etc. the real honeymoon _should_ last _through life_, and will, if the pair is properly mated. therefore, let the choice be made in no haste and passion and blindness, but in deliberation and calm exercise of judgment. footnote: [a] there is much preposterous stuff before the public, in the way of books relating to love and its relations, to marriage, and to wedded life. we look upon these works, as a general thing, as vicious in their nature, because they excite passions and feelings and expectations of which no one needs to be specially informed; while their detail of processes necessary to accomplish a wished for "happy result" are truly disgusting. a person's own heart, and the advice of some good sensible married friend, are all sufficient for the necessary guidance of a man or woman designing marriage. we propose, in some future work, to introduce this matter more fully to our readers, in a series of papers especially addressed to young and to married folks. we here give such general rules and observances as seem proper to be adverted to in a work on etiquette. respect for religion and for old age. some young people seem to imagine that they are living in the age of voltaire, and make a merit of skeptical and even atheistical opinions. they laugh at the sacred character of the ministry, and deride what is venerable and sacred. this class is as deserving of contempt, as it is avoided in truly good society. impiety is no longer fashionable as it was in the days when an atheistical philosopher thought to make laws for the world, and construe liberty into license to outrage every pious instinct. a man who does not respect the religion of his fathers, is incapable of knowing, and therefore of applying, the laws of good-breeding. a young man who boasts his freedom of religious opinions, is but confessing his own ignorance, for his belief is, in most cases, the result of a perfect non-acquaintance with religious systems. how many of our boasted "free thinkers" are men of pure lives and noble instincts? another sin is its want of respect for women and for persons of advanced years. a man of religious feeling holds himself bound to those duties, in respect to old age, that were observed in ancient times. but the young men of whom we have been speaking make a parade of rudeness in the presence of an old man; they pay him no more respect than if he were an unfledged youth of eighteen like themselves; they smoke cigars under his nose; scarcely deign to acknowledge him in the street; and never are willing to remember that their father is or was an old man, and that they will themselves grow old. such respect neither their parents nor themselves. diogenes declared himself to be a dog that he might have a right to indulge his cynical disposition. so are these flippant theologians who have sunk to the same level. one word as to the influence of religion upon the character of the young girl. a religious course of training can alone impart to the feminine character that spirit of yielding gentleness which, in domestic, as in public life, is the basis of politeness. deprived of these qualities, a woman would be unamiable in the family circle, as well as in the world, where, in spite of her efforts to appear pleasing, her bad education would inevitably display itself. young ladies of this class, if they do not go the length of impertinence, have a dissatisfied air, and indulge in the habit of criticising every thing with severity. if married, they quickly banish peace from the conjugal roof, by their exactions and ill-humor. they are not willing to make a single sacrifice for their husband's happiness; quarrels and oppositions please them, and the gentlest yoke becomes a heavy chain. the husband thus situated may consider himself happy, if his wife will condescend to occupy herself at all with domestic affairs, and things so common as the concerns of the family. an irreligious woman is as much to be abhorred as a drunken woman: she is no longer fit to lead in society and to give tone to its morals; she is not fit to be a mother; for her children will surely be reckless and godless; she is not a grace, but a blot on her sex, disliked even by men who profess to no religious conviction. specially for ladies. what is becoming to one woman, may be just the reverse to another, and in such a case it is foolish to be the slave of fashion. a tall, elegant, and well-formed figure requires a material that will exhibit and set off to advantage these charms. velvet suits well a commanding figure which disdains light materials, pale colors, and trifling ornaments. in vain will a new fashion proffer its pretty trinkets: the woman who possesses this classical figure will disdain all such trifles. her style of head-dress will be chaste; diamond ornaments will sparkle on her bosom; she is a queen, and should wear the ornaments of royalty, provided she can do so. a young girl, all grace and elegance, will robe her sylph-like form in the most transparent of textures; she will place a fresh garland on her charming brow. every thing in her dress should correspond to the freshness of her smile, to the sweetness of her expression. we must, moreover, counsel our fair friends not to spoil their beauty by any act of their own. to explain ourselves further: we will suppose you to possess a beautiful face, and you have every interest in preserving its regularity. now mark: if you experience the slightest opposition, your features are not recognizable your forehead is wrinkled, you are ten years older! are you angry? your nose contracts, your upper lip is elongated, your eyes are half covered by their lids; you are frightfully ugly! are you afraid? your eyebrows are raised, your mouth is half open, and you look like a simpleton! are you cold? all your features are contracted, every muscle of your face is in a state of tension, your neck sinks between your shoulders, you are hunch-backed; consequently the blood, less active in this semi-circular position, makes you still colder than if you walked on boldly, and you have further the advantage of looking like a little old man! are you negligent in your dress, careless in your habits, idle and listless? your face gradually assumes an expression of creticism, which makes your eyes lose all their vivacity, and your countenance its charms! consult your mirror when you experience one of these feelings, and you will hardly recognize yourself. since god has given you an agreeable countenance, do not deface his work--all the world will be gainers and yourself also. alas! what shall we say to those who have not been favored with a charming countenance? in such a case there is almost always a compensation of nature's own providing. you will observe that with unprepossessing features, there is generally an elegant figure, or a great deal of expression, or lively wit, that makes you forget that nature has been less bountiful than is her wont. fanciful modes of dress suit the coquette; she knows how to make use of them: they are her counters. she has the art of arranging tastefully even the folds of her dress. her costume should be full of variety, to be the reflection of her caprices. confidential advice to young men. we have given such specific directions as have seemed to us necessary to form the gentleman. in many cases it has been necessary to repeat admonitions in order to impress on the mind of the reader the propriety of certain special observances. let this excuse what may, at times, appear to be a repetition or a tautology. in this chapter we wish to address young men confidentially and candidly upon some of those habits and ways of life which serve to mold the character of the man to a considerable degree, and, hence, are of vital importance in their relations to society and to individuals. a young man who starts out in life without any settled purpose in mind, is laboring at great disadvantage. he will waste several years in useless and aimless endeavor to "get along," which he ought to have given up to settling and systematizing his life-occupation. if he is to learn a trade, let him resolve upon it at as early a moment as is practicable, and once resolved upon, let all his energies be devoted to his pursuit. success will be sure to follow such an endeavor; and the age of twenty-five will, beyond a doubt, if health does not fail, find the young man a respected member of community, an efficient workman earning a liberal living, and well qualified to enter upon the business and responsibilities of wedded life. if, on the contrary, the young man allows his majority to find him still deficient in a knowledge of the trade he knows he must or ought to follow, it is almost a moral certainty that he never will attain to the efficiency, the industry, and self-reliance which, otherwise, must have marked him. learn your trade, then, ere your majority comes; and, when once learned, remember that, through long days of labor, and nights devoid of ease, spring those blessings and rewards which almost inevitably follow upon endeavor rightly directed. if you propose a commercial life, let there be no hesitation in the decision; but go at it bravely, cheerfully, persistently, that your majority may find you enjoying the confidence of employers, and on the high-road to your own independence. remember, solemnly remember, that incorruptible honesty, integrity unimpeachable, virtue uncontaminated, are the best riches the _heart_ of man can ever attain--that wealth gained at a sacrifice of any of these qualities is a leprosy of gold which will cover the very soul with loathsomeness. if the author of this chapter had a million of dollars to bestow, it would be joyfully hurled into the sea, to be lost forever, if its possessorship could impair the virtue and moral excellence of its recipients. view wealth, as honorable only when honorably attained and rationally enjoyed; and your life will be one which you, your friends, and your children will call blessed. if you design a professional life, it should be determined on before the years of school-life are ended, that you may direct your studies and mold your thoughts into the most effective channels. as in a commercial life, remember that the key-stone of success lies in your honesty. a man who enters upon the practice of the law, or of medicine merely for gain, is starting out with a bad principle, which will not fail to produce bad results even though wealth be obtained; for, if purity of heart, disinterestedness, self-respect are all gone, of what avail is _money_? the veriest vagrant, who comes honestly by his poverty, is a nobler being than he who comes dishonorably by his wealth. as has been said, in previous pages, gentility has much to do with success in life. it opens a way for progress where no rudeness would avail--it unlocks sympathies, awakens friendships, commands confidences which are better than mortgages and bonds in our dealings with men; and we therefore commend earnestly to your attention what we have said on previous pages in regard to the rules and observances of the good-breeding which indicates true gentility. cultivate a taste for the beautiful. what is "the beautiful?" it is what beautifies and graces life. it is the antithesis of the real and practical. it is the glory of life, for it elevates the heart and mind into the contemplation of, and sympathy with, the ideal--the spiritual. its language is the language of emotion; it startles, and thrills, and stirs within us divine impulses. it comforts life, as the shower comforts the parched grass; and penetrates into the very recesses of our being, as the juices and fluids penetrate the arteries and pores of the plant. there is so much practicality in our american life, that we are in danger of growing sordid, covetous, unsympathetic, unpoetical; and our lives threaten to be as barren of beauty as the pile of unhewn marble, out of which the glorious edifice _can_ be built, if only the hand of the master touches it, and molds it into forms of unity and grace. we want the hand of that master to seize our being, to give it symmetry, to develop its latent glories, to prove its power for developing a fair humanity. the master already is at the door! in the cultivation of a taste for music, flowers, and home ornamentation, for art and poetry, for female purity and spiritual grace, we find the means of a right development. these are the messengers of the beautiful, and by their guidance we approach the true shrine. it is one of the most cheering signs of our civilization, that a taste for music and art is fast spreading among all classes of the american people. pictures and books are now found in houses where, a few years since, they were utter strangers, and their introduction has caused such a delightful change! that once hard repulsive room is now pleasant, and grace sits at the door. what has wrought the change. a picture or two on the walls, a carpet on the bare floor, a fine book upon the table--these are the secret of the new order which reigns there. and as the taste for these things expands, there will be still more beauty around that house. vines will creep over the door, the yard will be turned into form and shape, a piano will enter over the door-sill, and "send its wild echoes flying" through all the rooms to make hearts beat with new emotions. then must follow that intelligence which has the truest appreciation of life, which sees something else in existence than the mere necessities of subsistence, which finds in nature a language before dead, or unmeaning. a young man should lend himself to think and talk of art, of music, etc., etc.; should visit picture galleries and libraries; should attend good lectures and good concerts, and thus to acquire a taste for such recreation, to fill his mind with good thoughts, and to start in his soul noble aspirations. he who pursues this course, and leaves to others the bar-room, the billiard-room, the race-course, the club-room, is as sure of a high reward, as that intellect and virtue are above mere physical enjoyment and grossness. without doubt, the worst enemy of the young man is the drinking and smoking saloon. while we make no pretensions to total abstinence in the use of spirits, we still believe, from a long experience and close observation, that a bar-room resort is that fatal "first step," which starts the career of dissipation, debauchery, and crime. the associations one meets there, the whole moral atmosphere and presence, are deadening to right principles, destructive of right impressions. beware of them, o young man, is the earnest admonition we have to give to him who peruses this little chapter. a good antidote to the bad habit of frequenting these too-common places of resort, is to seek the society of intelligent, virtuous females; to go out with them, to sing with them, read with them, talk with them. a true woman's influence is ennobling, and she truly is the director of our race, if we but allow her her real rights to our devotion and our trust. etiquette of horseback riding. the very delightful recreation and exercise of riding on horseback is too little partaken of in these days of fast locomotion. this is to be regretted, for nothing is better calculated to develop the physical health and animal spirits, nothing is more conducive to pleasure of a rational character, than the ride on horseback upon every pleasant day. the etiquette of such occasions is simple enough. the lady should have the left, that the skirt may be outside and not interfered with. the gentleman should never be in _advance_ of the lady, but always a little in the rear, yet constantly near enough for any emergency, or for a chat. the ceremony of mounting and dismounting is to be learned by practice; no etiquette can teach it. it is, of course, the gentleman's place to gallant the lady out, taking her by her left hand, as, with her right, she must support her skirt; he must assist her to mount by holding the stirrup for her foot, and by disposing of her skirt after she is seated. the dress of the lady, upon such occasions, is not well understood, by most of our ladies. the english women ride very much, both alone and accompanied, on horseback; sometimes even participating in the exciting and daring race of the hunt. their dress is the result of four hundred years of experiment and experience, and we therefore quote the following from a late work on the subject, recently published in london:-- "few ladies know how to dress for horse exercise, although there has been a great improvement, so far as taste has been concerned, of late years. as to the head-dress, it may be whatever is in fashion, provided it fits the head so as not to require continual adjustment, often needed when the hands would be better employed with the reins and whip. it should shade from the sun, and, if used in hunting, protect the nape of the neck from rain. the recent fashions of wearing the plumes or feathers of the ostrich, the cock, the capercailzie, the pheasant, the peacock, and kingfisher, in the riding-hats of young ladies, in my humble opinion, are highly to be commended. as to the riding habit, it may be of any color or material, suitable to the wearer and season of the year, but the sleeves must fit rather closely; nothing can be more out of place, inconvenient, and ridiculous, than the wide hanging sleeves which look so well in a drawing-room. for country use, the skirt of the habit may be short, and bordered at the bottom a foot deep with leather. the fashion of a waistcoat of light material for summer, revived from the fashion of last century, is a decided improvement; and so is the over-jacket of cloth or seal-skin for rough weather. it is the duty of every woman to dress in as becoming and attractive a manner as possible; there is no reason why pretty young girls should not indulge in picturesque riding-costume, so long as it is appropriate. many ladies entirely spoil the 'set' of their dress skirts, by retaining the usual _impedimenta_ of petticoats. the best horsewomen wear nothing more than a flannel chemise, with long, colored sleeves. ladies trowsers should be of the same material and color as the habit; and, if full, flowing like a turk's, and fastened with an elastic band round the ankle, they will not be distinguished from the skirt. in this costume, which may be made amply warm by the folds of the trowsers, plaited like a highlander's kilt (fastened with an elastic band at the waist), a lady can sit down in a manner impossible for one encumbered by two or three short petticoats. it is the chest and back that require double folds of protection during and after stormy exercise. there is a prejudice against ladies wearing long wellington boots, but it is quite absurd, for they need never be seen, and are a great comfort and protection in riding long distances, when worn with trowsers tucked inside. they should, for obvious reasons, be large enough for warm woolen stockings, and easy to get on and off. it would not look well to see a lady struggling out of a pair of wet boots, with the help of a bootjack and a couple of chambermaids. the heels of riding-boots, whether for ladies or gentlemen, should be low, but long to keep the stirrup in its place." how to order a home.--rules for home conduct and family etiquette. as we have said, all _true_ politeness is founded in kindness and unselfishness. nowhere is there a better chance for its better display than in the family circle. here we may be certain that it springs from genuine goodness, as there is nothing to be gained by its practice, except the reward which comes from all well-doing. we may say that in no place is there so much _need_ of its exercise, in order to keep the wheels of life running smoothly; for "family jars," as they are laughingly called, are very apt to occur, unless the oil of kindness is used to subdue the friction. children should always show their parents that respect and tenderness which is _their due_. even where they may consider that they have been unjustly dealt with, it is well for them to remember their own inexperience, that, possibly, their judgment may not be as perfect as they now believe it to be; and that, at all events, the love and care bestowed upon them, in the helpless days of their childhood, entitle their parents to regard and consideration. for children to place their parents in a ridiculous light before others, mocking their defects, or appearing too conscious of their old-fashioned manners, is only a proof of their own weakness, and will lessen them in the esteem of any amiable person. for children to assume the most comfortable chairs, the most conspicuous places, or, in any way, to intrude themselves first, to the neglect of then parents, is a very grave fault. it is desirable to take the first step in the courtesies of the day, which engender so much pleasant feeling, by meeting the different members of the family with a cheerful "good-morning." it is highly desirable that, at table, the same rules of precedence, the same moderation and nicety be observed which would be practiced if guests were present. fixed _habits_ of politeness will only be attained where they are cultivated _at home_. no scrambling, haste, untidiness, or noise should be allowed among the younger members of the circle. they should be made to wait quietly until their elders are served, to eat without unseemly greediness, and drink without labored breathing or spasmodic sounds. if early trained to propriety, it will not be necessary to banish them from the table every time that company is present. such banishment will tend to make them awkward and lacking in self-possession; though, of course, well-governed children will wait cheerfully when there is necessity for it. a pleasant "thank you," or "i'm obliged to you," spoken by one sister to another, to a brother, or a mother, for a favor conferred, will last, even in a selfish point of view; for it will increase the _disposition to be kind_, and will lighten the burden of any little service unmistakably. children should never press around a visitor with the question, "how long are you going to stay?" nor around a relative or parent, returned from an absence, with, "what have you brought me?" "did you bring me any thing pretty?" if they have reason to expect a present, let them refrain from alluding to it, lest the friend should suspect they thought more of the gift than of welcoming the giver. if a new member enters the family, as the bride of a brother, or the husband of a sister, true good-breeding can never appear to better advantage, than in the kind reception and treatment of the new-comer. ideas and habits in such an one, differing from those of the circle into which he or she may have come, should not be too severely criticised; for, it should be remembered, they have probably been differently educated. even faults should be as charitably viewed as possible; and where respect and love are impossible, it is still best for those who _must_ dwell together, to exercise christian forbearance, and not forget such courtesies as the case admits of. if you have invited guests, forget your own pleasure in consulting theirs; never do or say a rude thing to a guest. many a jest, sarcasm, inattention, or slight, which would be excusable anywhere else, becomes a rudeness if it happens under your own roof to a person calling upon or visiting you. even in a friendly argument, be careful not to forget yourself, and take sides too warmly _against_ your opponent, if he be also your visitor or guest. if you have extended a special invitation to a friend at a distance to come and remain with you for a time, if the friend be a lady, and arrives by any public conveyance, have yourself, your carriage, or some messenger at the spot of arrival to conduct her to your residence. the house should be in good order, that she may not feel disconcerted, nor that she is an intruder. have all things prepared to give her a cheerful welcome. let her not suffer from the neglect to provide for her comfort those things which she would not like to be compelled to ask for. her room should be well supplied with the means of bathing and refreshing herself, and for arranging her toilet. the bureau should have empty drawers for the accommodation of her muslins, and the closet empty pegs for the reception of her dresses. she should be consulted as to the _kind_ of bed she prefers, and allowed to retire early, the first evening, if fatigued with her journey. as some people are in the habit of sleeping under more covering than others, there should be a certainty of plenty, especially if the weather be chilly or changeable. she should be made to feel _welcome_, and be honored by such civilities as will please her. if she is fond of company, and expects to be introduced to your circle of friends, you should apprise your friends in advance of her visit, that they may call upon her after her arrival. the table should be neat and furnished with suitable dishes. of course, your means and habits, will influence the amount of expense and trouble you can afford to go to; what we mean is, that a guest should not be left to feel neglected or uncared for. we have said "lady," in speaking of the visitor; but the same rules will be observed toward guests of the other sex; only they are not usually so much in the house, do not absorb so much of your time, nor require so much company. the gentleman of the house will see that his friend is amused and cared for when out with him during those hours not usually spent at home. do not allow your children to be troublesome to visitors; to climb upon them, soil their dresses with their fingers, handle their jewelry and ornaments, ask annoying questions, nor intrude themselves into their private apartments at unseasonable hours; nor ever, without first knocking and waiting to be bidden to come in. do not, yourself, intrude without knocking; nor allow your servants to do so. to permit children to ask visitors for money, or for articles in their possession, which the children may admire, is extremely out of place. to permit children to follow company about, never giving them a moment of retirement, standing by while they make their toilet, and at all times and seasons, is not only annoying, but is vulgar. if you have invited a friend or friends to tea, have every thing in readiness by the earliest hour at which they may be expected. do not let them find fires just lighted, yourself not dressed, nor other evidences that they have arrived too soon. usually guests--especially ladies--will desire to lay aside their outer garments in some dressing-room, where they can give a glance at their hair, or arrange their dress, before being ushered into the parlor. if you have asked a gentleman friend, whom you knew has just come from his place of business, give him an opportunity of bathing his face and hands, and brushing his hair. there are many little attentions to the entertainment and comfort of others which will not be wanting where the will is good and the heart sincere. _try to make all feel at ease and happy in your house._ while every attention is counseled to be shown to guests, let it not be supposed that _show_ and _seeming_, to "keep up appearances" before others, is what is sought. the inmates of the same house should endeavor to be agreeable to one another. no outside admiration can compensate for the want of love and respect at home. gross neglect of attire, unseemly morning apparel, uncombed hair, and total neglect of those little arts and charms which make the female portion of the household so much more lovable, are inexcusable. we should bear in mind that the love of friends is worth more than the flattery of strangers. only absolute ill-health, or great stress of employment, can excuse slovenly appearances at _any_ hour of the day, in any member of the family. the table should _always_ be laid with a certain degree of care. dishes should not be huddled on, nor dirty table-linen allowed, because there is no company to criticise. this will be one of the _surest tests_ of the refinement of a family. the birthdays of the different members should be honored with good wishes; and gifts, however trifling, if affectionately given, help to keep up that kindly feeling which is the life of the social circle. it is well to have a few feast-days in the course of the year. life was not made entirely for labor; and an occasional holiday is a bright spot for children to look back to when they are no longer children. this is only _a hint_--we would not assert it to be "etiquette." while children should honor their parents, parents should never seek to humiliate or degrade their children. it is bad policy to assert to a child, "you were always bad," "there is no good in you," "you are a liar," or, "you have disgraced yourself beyond forgiveness." teach your children to respect _your_ moderation, if you wish them to govern _their_ passions. teach them to respect themselves, if you wish them to possess any manliness or sense of honor. never _scold_. administer reproof in a calm manner; it will be much more effective, while it will not fail to preserve the respect of your servants and children much more successfully and satisfactorily than the harsher course. if visitors call when it is impossible or very inconvenient for you to see them, do not be afraid to send word that you are engaged. they have no right to be offended. better far to tell the truth than to send the false and silly message, that you are "not at home." cards of invitation, wedding cards, etc. in inviting persons to an evening party, the form is: "mrs. e. would be pleased to see mr. and mrs. d. at her house, on thursday evening;" or, "mrs. e.'s compliments to mr. and mrs. d., for thursday evening;" or, "mrs. e. at home on thursday evening;" addressing the envelope to mr. and mrs. d. if to a dinner-party, the form is much the same, only the hour is added, thus: "mrs. e. at home thursday evening. dinner at six o'clock." in case the hour is named, the guest commits a great discourtesy in not being on hand at that hour precisely. if a dance is proposed, it is proper to word the invitation, so as to inform the invited of the fact, thus: "mrs. e.'s compliments for thursday evening, to music and dancing;" or, "mrs. e. will be pleased to see her friends, thursday, at p. m., to a dance." when it is a public ball, or a stated soiree, the form of invitation is more formal: "your company is solicited to a ball (or soiree, or party dansante), to be given at the metropolitan rooms, on the evening of thursday, dec. th, ." then follow the names of the managing committee. this invitation should always be sent at least one week beforehand, in order to give ladies time to prepare their dresses. if it is impossible from sickness, or otherwise, to accept an invitation to a private party, an excuse, or declination, should invariably be sent in on the _day prior_ to the party, that the lady of the house may be advised as to who is coming and who is not. this is a rule too little observed, but a really necessary one, to be made the study of all to practice. for a gentleman not to attend a party, after having received an invitation, and to send in no excuse for absence, is to be construed into a designed "cut," or as an evidence of ignorance. in many cases--particularly in cities--the rule is to send in notes of acceptance of invitation; but this is a superfluous ceremony, when it is understood that silence gives consent. the form of a declination of invitation is: "mr. and mrs. d. regret their inability to attend upon mrs. e.'s invitation for thursday evening." or, when a good excuse is desirable, say: "mr. and mrs. d. greatly regret that sickness (or other and prior engagements) will prevent their acceptance of mrs. e.'s kind invitation for thursday evening." in all cases of invitations or declinations, the date of writing should be placed on the left hand, below. a plain, satin surfaced note paper, should be used, and the note should be inclosed in an envelope prepared for note paper, and be directed simply: "mr. and mrs. d.--present;" and if sons and daughters are invited out of the same household, separate invitations should be sent to each. if a person is worth inviting at all, it is but proper that a _whole note_ should be inclosed. in case of husband and wife, as the law pronounces them "one," a single note will serve for both. for visiting cards, the custom changes often. sometimes it is a glazed card, sometimes not; sometimes a large one, sometimes a small one; sometimes with silvered edges, sometimes with golden border; sometimes with printed inscription, sometimes engraved, sometimes written in pencil. any person designing to get up a set of visiting or wedding cards, should consult a good engraver; or, if no such person is near, should obtain from some friend, "just from the metropolis," the "style." the usual form for visiting cards, is simply the name, no address being, given, as that belongs to business. for wedding cards, the style now in vogue is two cards in one envelop, one inscribed with the lady's maiden name, the other with the name of husband and wife, thus: "mr. and mrs. john dean." if these are sent out before the wedding, and are designed as invitations to the ceremony, there is added to the last-named card the words: "at home, thursday morning, at ten o'clock;" or, as the case may be, in the evening; or, if at church, say: "at st. john's church, at a. m., thursday." letters of introduction have before been referred to. they should say: "the bearer, mr. horatio green, is solicitous of your acquaintance (or friendship, or advice, or good offices, as the case may be), and i take pleasure in commending him to your favorable attention." in the envelope, along with the introductory note, should be the card of the person introduced. neither letters of introduction, nor cards of invitation, should be sealed, except they must be transmitted by mail, in which case reinclose the whole in another envelope for the mail. contents of beadle's dime song book, no. . all's for the best, annie laurie, a national song, answer to a thousand a year, answer to kate kearney, a thousand a year, belle brandon, ben bolt, blind orphan boy's lament, bob ridley, bold privateer, do they miss me at home? don't be angry, mother, down the river, e pluribus unum, evening star, faded flowers, gentle annie, gentle jenny gray, glad to get home, hard times, have you seen my sister, heather dale, home again, i am not angry, i want to go home, juney at the gate, kate kearney, kiss me quick and go, kitty clyde, little blacksmith, my home in kentuck, my own native land, nelly gray, nelly was a lady, old dog tray, our mary ann, over the mountain, poor old slave, red, white, and blue, root, hog, or die, root, hog, or die, no. , root, hog, or die, no. , root, hog, or die, no. , row, row, shells of the ocean, song of the sexton, star-spangled banner, the age of progress, the dying californian, the hills of new england, the lake-side shore, the miller of the dee, the marseilles hymn, the old folks we loved long ago, the old farm-house, the old play-ground, the rock of liberty, the sword of bunker hill, the tempest, there's a good time coming, twenty years ago, twinkling stars, uncle sam's farm, unfurl the glorious banner, wait for the wagon, willie, we have miss'd you, willie'll roam no more. contents of beadle's dime song book, no. . alice gray, america, banks of the old mohawk, be kind to each other, billy grimes the rover, bryan o'lynn, come sit thee down, cora lee, crazy jane, darling nelly moore, darling old stick, fireman's victory, good news from home, good-night, grave of lilly dale, graves of a household, home, sweet home, i have no mother now, i'm leaving thee in sorrow, annie, i miss thee so, i shouldn't like to tell, i wandered by the brook-side, katy darling, kathleen mavourneen, little katy; or, hot corn, mary of the wild moor, mable clare, mary alleen, mill may, minnie moore, minnie dear, mrs. lofty and i, mr. finagan, my eye and betty martin, my love is a saileur boy, my mother dear, my grandmother's advice, my mother's bible, new england, oh! i'm going home, oh! scorn not thy brother, o! the sea, the sea, old sideling hill, our boyhood days, our father land, peter gray, rory o'more, somebody's waiting for somebody, the farmer sat in his easy chair, the farmer's boy, the irishman's shanty, the old folks are gone, the post-boy's song, the quilting party, three bells, 'tis home where the heart is, waiting for the may, we stand here united, what other name than thine, mother? where the bright waves are dashing, what is home without a mother, widow machree, willie's on the dark blue sea, winter--sleigh-bell song, nancy bell; or, old pine tree. contents of beadle's dime song book, no. . annie, dear, good-by, a sailor's life for me, bessy was a sailor's bride, bonny jean, comic katy darling, comic parody, darling jenny bell, darling rosabel, death of annie laurie, ettie may, few days, give 'em string and let 'em went, go it while you're young, hail columbia, happy hezekiah, i'd choose to be a daisy, i have something sweet to tell you, isle of beauty, i think of old ireland wherever i go, jeannette and jeannot, john jones, jordan is a hard road to travel, kitty kimo, lather and shave, lager bier song, linda has departed, lillie bell, love not, man the life-boat, my dear old mother, my girl with a calico dress, my heart's in old ireland, my poor dog tray, old rosin the bow, over the left, old dog tray, no. . parody on the west, pop goes the weasel, pretty jane, rosa lee, song of the locomotive, sparking sarah jane, the american girl, the american boy, the boys of kilkenny, the emigrant's farewell, the fine old english gentleman, the fine old irish gentleman, the fine old dutchman, the fireman's death, the fireman's boy, the girl i left behind me, the gold-digger's lament, the indian hunter, the old oaken bucket, the old whiskey jug, the other side of jordan, the pirate's serenade, the yellow rose of texas, ten o'clock, or, remember, love, remember, tilda horn, true blue, to the west, uncle ned, unhappy jeremiah, vilkins and his dinah, we miss thee at home, what will mrs. grundy say? woodman, spare that tree. contents of beadle's dime song book, no. ain't i glad to get out of the wilderness, a national song, answer to katy darling, a merry gipsy girl again, a parody on "uncle sam's farm," ben fisher and wife, bonnie jamie, broken-hearted tom, the lover, by the sad sea-waves, columbia rules the sea, come, gang awa' wi' me, commence you darkies all, cottage by the sea, daylight is on the sea, don't you cry so, norah, darling, erin is my home, gal from the south, he led her to the altar, home, sweet home, i am a freeman, i'll hang my harp on a willow-tree, i'm not myself at all, indian hunter, i've been roaming o'er the prairie, i wish he would decide, mamma, jane monroe, johnny is gone for a soldier, jolly jack the rover, kate was once a little girl, kitty tyrrel, let me kiss him for his mother, linda's gone to baltimore, maud adair, and i, molly bawn, my ain fireside, my boyhood's home, nora, the pride of kildare, o, god! preserve the mariner, oh, kiss, but never tell, old uncle edward, paddy on the canal, poor old maids, ship a-hoy! somebody's courting somebody, song of the farmer, song of blanche alpen, sparking sunday night, sprig of shilleleh, stand by the flag, the farmer's boy, the hazel dell, the harp that once through tara's hall, the indian warrior's grave, the little low room where i courted my wife, the low backed car, the old brown cot, the old kirk-yard, the railroad engineer's song, they don't wish me at home, tom brown, terry o'reilly, uncle gabriel, uncle tim the toper, we were boys and girls together, we are growing old together, we are all so fond of kissing, where are now the hopes i cherished? within a mile of edinburgh town, would i were a boy again, would i were a girl again, would i were with thee. contents of beadle's dime song book. no. . a dollar or two, a man's a man for a' that, angel's whisper, auld lang syne, a yankee ship, and a yankee crew, bashful young man, call me pet names, camptown races, charity, cheer, boys, cheer, comin' thro' the rye, der mot astore, dilla burn, down the burn, davy, love, dumbarton's bonnie dell, ever of thee, gum-tree canoe, hark! i hear an angel sing, i'd offer thee this hand of mine, in the days when i was hard up, john anderson, my jo, john, johnny was a shoemaker, kind relations, last week i took a wife, mary of argyle, meet me by moonlight, napolitaine, norah m'shane, nothing else to do, och! paddy, is it yerself? oft in the stilly night, roll on silver moon, sambo, i have miss'd you, sammy slap, the bill-sticker, simon the cellarer, something to love me, some love to drink, sourkrout and sausages, still so gently o'er me stealing the gay cavalier, the gambler's wife, the grave of uncle true, the grave of bonaparte, the ingle side, the irish emigrant's lament, the ivy green, the lass that loves a sailor, the last rose of summer, the lily of the west, the minute gun at sea, the monks of old, the musical wife, the ocean burial, the old arm-chair, the poor little fisherman's girl, the rat-catcher's daughter, the rose of allendale, the tail iv me coat, the watcher, thou art gone from my gaze, thou hast wounded the spirit, 'tis midnight hour, twilight dews, umbrella courtship, wake! dinah, wake! washington, star of the west, we'll have a little dance to-night, boys, we met by chance, when i saw sweet nelly home, when the swallows homeward fly, whoop de doodle do, william of the ferry, will you love me then as now? contents of beadle's dime song book, no. . annie lisle, beautiful world, be kind to the loved ones, bobbin' around, bonnie dundee, courting in connecticut, dearest mae, dear mother, i'll come again, ella ree, fairy dell, far, far upon the sea, gentle hallie, gentle nettie moore, happy are we to-night, hattie lee, he doeth all things well, i can not call her mother, i'll paddle my own canoe, i'm standing by thy grave, mother, is it anybody's business? jane o'malley, jenny lane, joanna snow, johnny sands, lilly dale, little more cider, lulu is our darling pride, marion lee, meet me by the running brook, minnie clyde, not for gold, not married yet, oh, carry me home to die, oh! silber shining moon, oh! spare the old homestead, old homestead, ossian's serenade, over the river, riding on a rail, sailor boy's last dream, "say yes, pussy," spirit voice of belle brandon, squire jones's daughter, the bloom is on the rye, the blue junietta, the carrier dove, the child's wish, the cottage of my mother, the female auctioneer, the irish jaunting car, the lords of creation shall woman obey, the maniac, the merry sleigh-ride, the miller's maid, the modern belle, the mountaineer's farewell, the old mountain tree, the strawberry girl, the snow storm, the song my mother used to sing, three grains of corn, washington's grave. what is home without a sister, where are the friends? why chime the bells so merrily? why don't the men propose? will nobody marry me? young recruit. $ worth of music for ten cents! beadle's dime melodist, comprising the music and words. contents: a hundred years ago, a lowly youth, anna bell, annie lowe, be quiet do, i'll call my mother, bime, bome bell, bonny eloise, carry me home to tennessee, ettie may, far on the deep blue sea, fare thee well, katy dear, forgive but don't forget, hope on, hope ever, i had a gentle mother, i'll dream of thee no more, in the wild chamois' track, keemo kimo, jennie with her bonnie blue e'e, love me little, love me long, marion lee, mary of lake enon, mary of the glen, mother, sweet mother, why linger away? my soul in one unbroken sigh, oft in the stilly night, oh, my love he is a salieur, oh, whisper what thou feelest, old josey, once upon a time, one cheering word, one parting song, and then farewell, poor thomas day, pretty nelly, round for three voices, scenes that are brightest, sleeping i dreamed, love, softly ye night winds, some one to love, strike the light guitar, swinging, swinging all day long, 'tis pleasant to be young, 'tis the witching hour of love, the dearest spot of earth, the female smuggler, the good-by at the door, the hazel dell, the leaves that fall in spring, the low-backed car, the mother's smile, the old folks are gone, the winds that waft my sighs to thee, there is a flower that bloometh, there is darkness on the mountain, thou art mine own, love, where is home? why do i weep for thee? widow machree, wild tiadatton, winsome winnie, work, work, yes, let me like a soldier die. stodart piano fortes. [illustration] stodart & morris, no. broadway, new-york, manufacturers of the celebrated "stodart" piano fortes! square, grand and picolo, or cottage piano fortes in plain and ornamental cases. in addition to the peculiar merits that have won for these instruments their enviable reputation, they comprise all the modern improvements, _possessing_ any _real merit_. for purity of tone, delicacy of touch, durability, and their capacity for enduring the ravages of _severe climates_, the "stodart" piano forte stands unrivalled. the pianos of the above manufacture have stood the test of more than a quarter of a century. for the superiority of these celebrated instruments, the manufacturers are at liberty to refer to over fifteen thousand families who have them in use, and in nearly every part of the civilized world. parties abroad favoring us with their orders, can rely upon being as well served, as if they were to make a selection themselves, and at modest prices and satisfactory terms. * * * * * transcriber's note: page iii, "advice" changed to "advise" (as will advise the reader) page iii, "advise" changed to "advice" (if our advice is followed) page iv, " " changed to "iii" to match actual location of introduction in text. page , word "do" added to text (know what to do) page , "perfec" changed to "perfect" (perfect cleanliness in) page , "use" changed to "uses" (correspondent uses improper) page , "do" changed to "don't" (don't make him feel) page , "to" changed to "from" (from every man of) page , "permissable" changed to "permissible" (of attention permissible) page , "himself" to "herself" (and refreshing herself) page , "wherever" had been split across two lines as "where- -ever." when the word was rejoined, the extraneous "e" was removed. (i think of old ireland wherever i go) transcriber's note: boldface type is indicated by =equal signs=; italics are indicated by _underscores_. story lessons on character-building (morals) and manners. story lessons on character-building (morals) and manners by loÏs bates author of "kindergarten guide," "new recitations for infants," "games without music," etc. longmans, green, and co. paternoster row, london new york and bombay preface. although it is admitted by all teachers, in theory at least, that morals and manners are essential subjects in the curriculum of life, how very few give them an appointed place in the school routine. every other subject has its special time allotted, but these--the most important subjects--are left to chance, or taken up, haphazard, at any time; surely this is wrong. incidents often occur in the school or home life which afford fitting opportunity for the inculcation of some special moral truth, but maybe the teacher or mother has no suitable illustration just at hand, and the occasion is passed over with a reproof. it is hoped that where such want is felt this little book may supply the need. the stories may be either told or read to the children, and are as suitable for the home as the school. "the fairy temple" should be read as an introduction to the story lessons, for the _teaching_ of the latter is based on this introductory fairy tale. if used at home the blackboard sketch may be written on a slate or slip of paper. the children will not weary if the stories are repeated again and again (this at least was the writer's experience), and they will be eager to pronounce what is the teaching of the tale. in this way the lessons are reiterated and enforced. the method is one which the writer found exceedingly effective during long years of experience. picture-teaching is an ideal way of conveying truths to children, and these little stories are intended to be pictures in which the children may see and contrast the good with the bad, and learn to love the good. the faults of young children are almost invariably due either to thoughtlessness or want of knowledge, and the little ones are delighted to learn and put into practice the lessons taught in these stories, which teaching should be applied in the class or home as occasion arises. _e.g._, a child is passing in front of another without any apology, the teacher says, immediately: "remember minnie, you do not wish to be rude, like she was" (story lesson ). or if a child omits to say "thank you," he may be reminded by asking: "have you forgotten 'alec and the fairies'?" (story lesson ). the story lessons should be read to the children until they become perfectly familiar with them, so that each may be applied in the manner indicated. contents. .--morals. chapter page i. introductory story-- . the fairy temple ii. obedience-- . the two voices . (why we should obey.) the pilot . (why we should obey.) the dog that did not like to be washed . (ready obedience.) robert and the marbles . (unready, sulky obedience.) jimmy and the overcoat iii. loyalty-- . rowland and the apple tart iv. truthfulness-- . (direct untruth.) lucy and the jug of milk . (untruth, by not speaking.) mabel and fritz . (untruth, by not telling _all_.) a game of cricket . (untruth, by "stretching"--exaggeration.) the three feathers v. honesty-- . lulu and the pretty coloured wool . (taking little things.) carl and the lump of sugar . (taking little things.) lilie and the scent . copying . on finding things vi. kindness-- . squeaking wheels . birds and trees . flowers and bees . lulu and the bundle vii. thoughtfulness-- . baby elsie and the stool . the thoughtful soldier viii. help one another-- . the cat and the parrot . the two monkeys . the wounded bird ix. on being brave-- . (brave in danger.) how leonard saved his little brother . (brave in little things.) the twins . (brave in suffering.) the broken arm . (brave in suffering.) the brave monkey x. try, try again-- . the sparrow that would not be beaten . the railway train . the man who found america xi. patience-- . walter and the spoilt page . the drawings eaten by the rats xii. on giving in-- . playing at shop . the two goats xiii. on being generous-- . lilie and the beggar girl . bertie and the porridge xiv. forgiveness-- . the two dogs xv. good for evil-- . the blotted copy-book xvi. gentleness-- . the horse and the child . the overturned fruit stall xvii. on being grateful-- . rose and her birthday present . the boy who _was_ grateful xviii. self-help-- . the crow and the pitcher xix. content-- . harold and the blind man xx. tidiness-- . the slovenly boy . pussy and the knitting . the packing of the trunks xxi. modesty-- . the violet . modesty in dress xxii. on giving pleasure to others-- . "selfless" and "thoughtful". a fairy tale . the bunch of roses . edwin and the birthday party . davie's christmas present xxiii. cleanliness-- . why we should be clean . little creatures who like to be clean . the boy who did not like to be washed . the nails and the teeth xxiv. pure language-- . toads and diamonds. a fairy tale xxv. punctuality-- . lewis and the school picnic xxvi. all work honourable-- . the chimney-sweep xxvii. bad companions-- . playing with pitch . stealing strawberries xxviii. on forgetting-- . maggie's birthday present . the promised drive . the boy who remembered xxix. kindness to animals-- . lulu and the sparrow . why we should be kind to animals . the butterfly . the kind-hearted dog xxx. bad temper-- . how paul was cured . the young horse xxxi. selfishness-- . the child on the coach . edna and the cherries . the boy who liked always to win . the two boxes of chocolate . eva xxxii. carelessness-- . the misfortunes of elinor xxxiii. on being obstinate-- . how daisy's holiday was spoilt xxxiv. greediness-- . stephen and the buns xxxv. boasting-- . the stag and his horns xxxvi. wastefulness-- . the little girl who was lost xxxvii. laziness-- . the sluggard xxxviii. on being ashamed-- . the elephant that stole the cakes xxxix. ears and no ears-- . heedless albert . olive and gertie xl. eyes and no eyes-- . the two brothers . ruby and the wall xli. love of the beautiful-- . the daisy xlii. on destroying things-- . beauty and goodness xliii. on turning back when wrong-- . the lost path xliv. one bad "stone" may spoil the "temple"-- . intemperance .--manners. xlv. preliminary story lesson-- . the watch and its springs xlvi. on saying "please" and "thank you"-- . fairy tale of alec and his toys xlvii. on being respectful-- . story lesson xlviii. putting feet up-- . alice and the pink frock xlix. banging doors-- . how maurice came home from school . lulu and the glass door l. pushing in front of people-- . the big boy and the little lady li. keeping to the right-- . story lesson lii. clumsy people-- . story lesson liii. turning round when walking-- . the girl and her eggs liv. on staring-- . ruth and the window lv. walking softly-- . florence nightingale lvi. answering when spoken to-- . the civil boy lvii. on speaking loudly-- . the woman who shouted lviii. on speaking when others are speaking-- . margery and the picnic lix. look at people when speaking to them-- . fred and his master lx. on talking too much-- . story lesson lxi. going in front of people-- . minnie and the book . the man and his luggage lxii. when to say "i beg your pardon"-- . story lesson . the lady and the poor boy lxiii. raising cap-- . story lesson lxiv. on offering seat to lady-- . story lesson lxv. on shaking hands-- . reggie and the visitors lxvi. knocking before entering a room-- . the boy who forgot lxvii. hanging hats up, etc.-- . careless percy lxviii. how to offer sweets, etc.-- . how baby did it lxix. yawning, coughing and sneezing-- . story lesson lxx. how a slate should not be cleaned-- . story lesson lxxi. the pocket-handkerchief-- . story lesson lxxii. how to behave at table-- . (on sitting still at table.) phil's disaster . (on sitting still at table.) fidgety katie . (thinking of others at table.) the helpful little girl . (upsetting things at table.) leslie and the christmas dinner . cherry stones lxxiii. on eating and drinking-- . rhymes . rhymes lxxiv. finale-- . how another queen builded list of subjects alphabetically arranged. .--moral subjects. page all work honourable ashamed, on being bad companions boasting brave, on being carelessness cleanliness content copying destroying things, on ears and no ears exaggeration eyes and no eyes fairy temple finding things forgetting forgiveness generous, on being gentleness giving in, on giving pleasure to others, on good for evil grateful, on being greediness help one another honesty how another queen builded intemperance introductory story kindness kindness to animals laziness love of the beautiful loyalty modesty nails, the obedience obstinate, on being patience punctuality pure language self-help selfishness teeth, the thoughtfulness tidiness truthfulness try, try again turning back when wrong wastefulness .--manners. answering when spoken to banging doors cherry stones (see "how to behave at table") clumsy people coughing eating and drinking, on excuse me, please (see "going in front of people") going in front of people hanging hats up, etc. how to behave at table "i beg your pardon," when to say keeping to the right knocking before entering a room look at people when speaking to them manners offering seat to lady offer sweets, how to "please," on saying pocket-handkerchief, the preliminary story lesson pushing in front of people putting feet up raising cap respectful, on being shaking hands, on sitting still at table, on sneezing speaking loudly, on speaking when others are speaking, on spitting (see "how a slate should not be cleaned") staring, on talking too much, on "thank you," on saying thinking of others at table turning round when walking upsetting things at table (see "leslie and the christmas dinner") walking softly yawning .--moral subjects. i. introductory story. . the fairy temple. (the following story should be read to the children =first=, as it forms a kind of groundwork for the story lessons which follow.) it was night--a glorious, moonlight night, and in the shade of the leafy woods the queen of the fairies was calling her little people together by the sweet tones of a tinkling, silver bell. when they were all gathered round, she said: "my dear children, i am going to do a great work, and i want you all to help me". at this the fairies spread their wings and bowed, for they were always ready to do the bidding of their queen. they were all dressed in lovely colours, of a gauzy substance, finer than any silk that ever was seen, and their names were called after the colours they wore. the queen's robe was of purple and gold, and glittered grandly in the moonlight. "i have determined," said the queen, "to build a temple of precious stones, and =your= work will be to bring me the material." "rosy-wings," she continued, turning to a little fairy clad in delicate pink, and fair as a rose, "you shall bring rubies." "grass-green," to a fairy dressed in green, "your work is to find emeralds; and shiny-wings, you will go to the mermaids and ask them to give you pearls." now there stood near the queen six tiny, fairy sisters, whose robes were whiter and purer than any. the sisters were all called by the same name--"crystal-clear," and they waited to hear what their work was to be. "sisters crystal-clear," said the queen, "you shall all of you bring diamonds; we shall need so many diamonds." there was another fairy standing there, whose robe seemed to change into many colours as it shimmered in the moonlight, just as you have seen the sky change colour at sunset, and to her the queen said, "rainbow-robe, go and find the opal". then there were three other fairy sisters called "gold-wings," who were always trying to help the other fairies, and to do good to everybody, and the queen told them to bring fine gold to fasten the precious stones together. these are not =all= the fairies who were there; some others wore blue, some yellow, and the queen gave them all their work. then she rang a tiny, silver bell, and they all spread their wings and bowed before they flew away to do her bidding. after many days the fairies came together to bring their precious treasures to the queen. how they carried them i scarcely know, but there was a little girl, many years ago, who often paused at the window of a jeweller's shop to gaze at a tiny, silver boy, with silver wings, wheeling a silver wheel-barrow full of rings, and the little girl thought that perhaps the fairies carried things in the same way. anyhow, they all came to the queen bringing their burdens, and she soon set to work on the temple. "the foundations must be laid with diamonds," said the queen. "where are the six sisters? ah! here they come with the lovely, shining diamonds, which are like themselves, 'clear as crystal'. now little gold-wings, bring =your= treasure," and the three little sisters brought the finest of gold. so the work went merrily on, and the fairies danced in glee as they saw the glittering temple growing under the clever hands of the queen. she made the doors of pearls and the windows of rubies, and the roof she said should be of opal, because it would show many colours when the light played upon it. at last the lovely building was finished, and after the fairies had danced joyfully round it in a ring again and again, until they could dance no longer, they gathered in a group round the dear queen, and thanked her for having made so beautiful a temple. "it is quite the loveliest thing in the world, i am sure," said rosy-wings. "not quite," replied the queen, "mortals have it in their power to make a lovelier temple than ours." "who are 'mortals'?" asked shiny-wings. "boys and girls are mortals," said the queen, "and grown-up people also." "i have never seen mortals build anything half so pretty as our temple," said grass-green; "their houses are made of stone and brick." "ah! grass-green," answered the queen, smiling, "you have never seen the temple i am speaking of, but it =is= better than ours, for it lasts--lasts for ever. wind and rain, frost and snow, will spoil our temple in time; but the temple of the mortals lives on, and is never destroyed." "do tell us about it, dear queen," said all the fairies; "we will try to understand." "it is called by rather a long word," said the queen, "its name is 'character'; =that= is what the mortals build, and the stones they use are more precious than our stones. i will tell you the names of some of them. first there is =truth=, clear and bright like the diamonds; that must be the foundation; no good character can be made without truth." then the sisters crystal-clear smiled at each other and said, "we brought diamonds for truth". "there are =honesty=, =obedience=, and many others," continued the queen, "and =kindness=, which is like the pure gold that was brought by gold-wings, and makes a lovely setting for all the other stones." the little fairies were glad to hear all this about the temple which the mortals build, and gold-wings said that she would like above everything to be able to help boys and girls to make their temple beautiful, and the other fairies said the same; so the queen said they all might try to help them, for each boy and girl =must= build a temple, and the name of that temple is character. ii. obedience. . the two voices. there was once a little boy who said that whenever he was going to do anything wrong he heard two voices speaking to him. do you know what he meant? perhaps this story will help you. the boy's name was cecil. cecil's father had a very beautiful and rare canary, which had been brought far over the sea as a present to him. cecil often helped to feed the canary and give it fresh water, and sometimes his father would allow him to open the door of the cage, and the bird would come out and perch on his hand, which delighted cecil very much, but he was not allowed to open the door of the cage unless his father was with him. one day, however, cecil came to the cage alone, and while he watched the canary, a little voice said, "open the door and take him out; father will never know". that was a =wrong= voice, and cecil tried not to listen. it would have been better if he had gone away from the cage, but he did not; and the voice came again, "open the door and let him out". and another little voice said, "no, don't; your father said you must not". but cecil listened to the =wrong= voice; he opened the door gently, and out flew the pretty bird. first it perched on his finger, then it flew about the room, and then--cecil had not noticed that the window was open--then, before he knew, out of the window flew the canary, and poor cecil burst into tears. "oh! if i had listened to the =good= voice, the =right= voice, and not opened the door! father will be so angry." then the =bad= voice came again and said, "don't tell your father; say you know nothing about it ". but cecil did not listen this time; he was too brave a boy to tell his father a lie, and he determined to tell the truth and be punished, if necessary. of course his father was very sorry to lose his beautiful canary, and more sorry still that his little son had been disobedient, but he was glad that cecil told him the truth. now do you know the two things that the =wrong= voice told cecil to do? it told him ( ) not to obey; ( ) not to tell the truth. i think we have all heard those two voices, not with our ears, but =within= us. let us always listen to the =good= voice--the =right= voice. (blackboard sketch.) two voices:-- st. good, says, "obey," "speak the truth". nd. bad, says, "disobey," "tell untruth". (why we should obey.) . the pilot. you know that the country in which you live is an island? that means there is water all round it, and that water is the sea. england and scotland are joined together in one large island; and if you want to go to any other country, you must sail in a ship. a great many ships come to england, bringing us tea, coffee, sugar, oranges and many other things, and the towns they come to are called =ports=. london is a port, so is liverpool; and in the north of england is another port called hull. to get to hull from the sea we have to sail up a wide river called the humber for more than twenty miles. this river has a great many sandbanks in it, and there are men called =pilots= who know just where these sandbanks lie, and they are the ones who can guide the ships safely into port. one day there was a captain who brought his ship into the river, and said to himself, "i do not want the pilot on board, i can guide the ship myself". so he did not hoist the "union jack" on the foremast head, which means "pilot come on board"; and the pilot did not come. for a little time the good ship sailed along all right, but presently they found that she was not moving at all. what had happened? the ship was stuck fast on a sandbank, and the foolish captain wished now that he had taken the pilot on board. first he had to go out in the little boat and fetch a "tug-boat" to pull the ship off the sandbank, and then he was glad enough to have the pilot on board, and to let him guide the ship just as he liked. why could not the captain guide the ship? because he did not know the way. have you ever known children who did not like to do as they were told? who thought that =they= knew best--better than father or mother? they are like the foolish captain, who tried to guide his ship when he did not know the way. fathers and mothers are like the pilot, who knew which was the best way to take; and wise children are willing to be guided, for =they= do not know the way any more than the captain did. (blackboard.) =why= do we obey? because we do not know the way. the story and its teaching may be further impressed on the minds of the children by a sand lesson:-- place a blackboard or large piece of oil-cloth on the floor, and make an "island" in sand, and in the "island" form a large "estuary," with little heaps of sand dotted about in it, to represent sandbanks. the sailors cannot =see= the sandbanks, for they are all covered with water in the =real= river, so we will take a duster and spread it over these sandbanks. now, take a tiny boat and ask one of the children to sail it up the river, keeping clear of the sandbanks. the children will soon see that it cannot be done, and the "blackboard" lesson may be again enforced. (why we should obey.) . the dog that did not like to be washed.[ ] a lady once had a dog of which she was very fond. the dog was fond of his mistress also, and loved to romp by her side when she was out walking, or to lie at her feet as she sat at work. but the dog had one serious fault--he did not like to be washed, and he was so savage when he =was= put into the bath, that at last none of the servants dare do it. the lady decided that she would not take any more notice of the dog until he was willing to have his bath quietly, so she did not take him out with her for walks, nor allow him to come near her in the house. there were no pattings, no caresses, no romps, and he began to look quite wretched and miserable. you see the dog did not like his mistress to be vexed with him, and he felt very unhappy--so unhappy that at last he could bear it no longer. then one morning he crept quietly up to the lady and gave her a look which she knew quite well meant, "i cannot bear this any longer; i will be good". so he was put in the bath, and though he had to be scrubbed very hard--for by this time he was unusually dirty--he stood still quite patiently, and when it was all over, he bounded to his mistress with a joyous bark and a wag of the tail, as much as to say, "it is all right now". after this he was allowed to go for walks as usual, and was once more a happy dog, and he never objected to his bath afterwards. the dog could not bear to grieve his mistress; and how much more should children be sorry to grieve kind father and mother, who do so much for them. (blackboard.) =why= we obey:-- . because the "good voice" tells us. . because we do not know the way. . because it gives pleasure to father and mother. (ready obedience.[ ]) . robert and the marbles. a little boy named robert was having a game at marbles with a number of other boys, and it had just come his turn to play. he meant to win, and was carefully aiming the marble, when he heard his mother's voice calling, "robert, i want you". quick as thought the marbles were dropped into his pocket, and off he ran to see what mother wanted. (blackboard.) robert obeyed readily, cheerfully, quickly. (unready, sulky obedience.) . jimmy and the overcoat. i was in a house one day where a boy was getting ready to go to school. his bag was slung over his shoulder, and he was just reaching his cap from the peg, when his mother said, "put on your overcoat, jimmy; it is rather cold this morning". oh, what a fuss there was! how he argued with his mother, "it was not cold; he hated overcoats. could he not take it over his arm, or put it on in the afternoon?" many more objections he made, and when at last he =had= put it on, he went out grumbling, and slammed the door after him. can you guess how his mother felt? "unhappy," you will say. and do you think it is right, dear children, to make mother unhappy? i am sure you do not. little child with eyes so blue, what has mother done for you? taught your little feet to stand, led you gently by the hand, and in thousand untold ways guarded you through infant days: do not think that =you= know best, just obey, and leave the rest. you see jimmy thought that he knew better than his mother, but he did not. children need to be guided like the boat in the humber (story lesson ), for they are not very wise; and when we obey, we are building up our temple with beautiful stones. (blackboard.) =two= kinds of obedience:-- . ready, cheerful-robert. . unready, sulky-jimmy. which do you like best? footnotes: [ ] _animal intelligence_, romanes. [ ] games nos. and in "games without music" illustrate above story lesson. iii. loyalty. . rowland and the apple tart. perhaps you have never heard the word loyalty before, and maybe rowland had not either, but he knew what it meant, and tried to practise it. rowland was not a very strong little boy, and he could not eat so many different kinds of food as some children can, for some of them made him sick. among other things he was forbidden to take pastry. his mother, who loved him very dearly, had one day said to him, "rowland, my boy, i cannot always be with you, but i trust you to do what i wish," and rowland said he would try always to remember. one time he was invited to go and stay with his cousins, who lived in a fine old house in the country. they were strong, healthy, rosy children, quite a contrast to their delicate little cousin, and perhaps they were a little rough and rude as well. there was a large apple tart for dinner one day, and when rowland said, "i do not wish for any, auntie, thank you," his cousins looked at him in surprise, and the eldest said scornfully, "i am glad that =i= am not delicate," and the next boy remarked, "what a fad!" while the third muttered "baby". this was all very hard to bear, and when his aunt said, "i am sure a little will not hurt you," rowland felt very much inclined to give in, but he remembered that his mother trusted him, and he remained true to her wishes. this is loyalty, doing what is right even when there is no one there to see. (blackboard.) be true or loyal when no eyes are upon you. iv. truthfulness. (direct untruth.) . lucy and the jug of milk. "lucy," said her mother, "just run to the dairy and fetch a pint of milk for me, here is the money; and do remember, child, to look where you are going, so that you do not stumble and drop the jug." i am afraid lucy was a little like another girl you will hear of (story lesson ); she was too fond of staring about, and perhaps rather careless. however, she went to the dairy and bought the milk, and had returned half-way home without any mishap, when she met a flock of sheep coming down the road, followed by a large sheep-dog. lucy stood on the pavement to watch them pass; it was such fun to see the sheep-dog scamper from one side to the other, and the timid sheep spring forward as soon as the dog came near them. so far the milk was safe; but, after the sheep had passed, lucy thought she would just turn round to have one more peep at them, and oh, dear, her foot tripped against a stone, and down she fell, milk, and jug, and all, and the jug was smashed to pieces. lucy was in great trouble, and as she stood there and looked at the broken jug, and the milk trickling down the gutter, she cried bitterly. a big boy who was passing by at the time, and had seen the accident, came across the road and said to her: "don't cry, little girl, just run home and tell your mother that the sheep-dog bounced up against you and knocked the jug out of your hand; then you will not be punished". lucy dried her eyes quickly, and gazed at the boy in astonishment. "tell my mother a =lie=!" said she; "=no=, i would rather be punished a dozen times than do so. i shall tell her the truth," and she walked away home. lucy was careless, but she was not untruthful; surely the boy must have felt ashamed! you remember the fairy queen said that =truth= was the foundation of our beautiful temple (story lesson ), and the building will all tumble down in ruins if we do not have a strong foundation, so we must be brave to bear punishment (as lucy was) if we deserve it, and be sure to (blackboard) tell the truth whatever it costs. (untruth, by not speaking.) . mabel and fritz. this is a story of a dear little curly-headed girl called mabel, whom everybody loved. she was so bright, and happy, and good-tempered, one could not help loving her, and when you looked into her clear, blue eyes, you could see that she was a frank, truthful child, who had nothing to hide, for she tried to listen to the good voice, and do what was right. one day mabel was having a romp with her little dog, fritz, in the kitchen. up and down she chased him, and away he went, jumping over the chairs, hiding under the dresser, always followed by mabel, until at last he leaped on the table, and in trying to make him come down, mabel and the dog together overturned a tray full of clean, starched linen that was on the table. mabel had been giving fritz some water to drink a little before this, and in doing so had spilt a good deal on the floor, so the clean cuffs and collars rolled over in the wet, and were quite spoiled. mabel's mother happened to come in just when the tray fell with a bang, and as the dog jumped down from the table at the same moment she thought he had done it, and mabel did not tell that she was in fault, so poor fritz was chained up in his kennel, and kept without dinner as a punishment. mabel felt sad about it all the rest of the day, and when she was put to bed at night, and mamma had left her, she did not go to sleep as usual, but tossed about on the pillow, until her little curly head was quite hot and tired. then she began to cry. mabel was listening to the good voice now, and it said, "oh, mabel, =you= helped fritz to overturn the tray, and =he= got all the blame, how mean of you!" mabel sobbed louder when she thought of herself as being mean, and her mother hearing the noise came to see what was the matter. then mabel confessed all, and her mother said, "perhaps my little girl did not know that we could be untruthful =by not speaking at all=, but you see it is quite possible". i do not think mabel ever forgot the lesson which she learnt that (blackboard) there can be untruth without words. (untruth, by not telling all.) . a game of cricket. two boys were playing at bat and ball in a field. there was a high hedge on one side of the field, and on the other side of the hedge was a market garden, where things are grown to be afterwards sold in the market. the boys had been playing some time, when the "batter," giving the ball a very hard blow, sent it over the hedge, and =both= the boys heard a loud crash as of breaking glass. they picked up the wickets quickly, and carried them, with the bat, to a hut that stood in the field, and were hurrying away when the gardener came and stopped them, asking, "have you sent a cricket-ball over the hedge into my cucumber frame?" the boy who had struck the ball answered, "i did not see a ball go into your frame," and the other boy said, "neither did i". they did not =see= the ball break the glass, but they both =knew= that it had crashed into the frame, and though the words they spoke might be true, the lie was there all the same. supposing the sisters "crystal-clear" had brought to the fairy queen a diamond that was only good on one side, do you think she would have put it in the temple? no, indeed, she would have said it was only =half= true; and so we must put away anything that =looks= like truth, but is not truth. how wrong it is to make believe we have not done a thing, when all the time we have. dear children, be true all through! have you ever seen a glass jar of pure honey, no bits of wax floating in it, all clear and pure? let your heart be like that, =sincere=, which means "without wax, clear and pure". (blackboard.) a half-truth is as hateful as a lie. (untruth, by "stretching"--exaggeration.) . the three feathers. one day three little girls were talking about hats and feathers. the first girl said: "i have such a long feather in my best hat; it goes all down one side". then the next girl said: "oh! =my= feather is longer than that, for it goes all round the hat"; and the third girl said: "ah! but =my= feather is longer than either of yours, for it goes round the hat and hangs down behind as well". on the next sunday each of these little girls went walking in the park with her parents, wearing her best hat with the wonderful feather; it never occurred to =one= of them that she might meet the other two, but that is just what happened, and the three "long" feathers proved to be nothing but three =short=, little feathers, one in each hat! can you guess how =ashamed= each girl felt? you have seen a piece of elastic stretched out. how =long= you can make it, and how =short= it goes when you leave off stretching! each girl wanted to be better than the other, and to =appear= so, each "stretched" the story of her feather, just as the length of elastic was stretched, forgetting that (blackboard) when we "stretch" a story, we do not speak the truth. v. honesty. . lulu and the pretty coloured wool. the little children who went to school long years ago did not have pretty things to play with as you have--no kindergarten balls with bright colours, nor nice bricks with which to build houses and churches! there was a little girl named lulu who went to a dame's school in those far-off days, and most of the time she had to sit knitting a long, grey stocking, though she was only six years old. some of the older girls were sewing on canvas with pretty coloured wools, and making (what appeared to little lulu) most beautiful pictures. how she longed for a length of the pink or blue wool to have for her very own! the school was in a room upstairs, and at the head of the stair there was a window, with a deep window-sill in front of it. as lulu came out of the schoolroom one day to take a message for the teacher, and turned to close the door after her, she saw (oh, lovely sight!) that the window-sill was piled up with bundles of the pretty coloured wool that she liked so much. oh! how she wished for a little of it! and, see, there is some rose-pink wool on the top, cut into lengths ready for the girls to sew with! it is too much for poor little lulu; she draws out one! two! three lengths of the wool, folds it up hastily, puts it in her pocket, and runs down the stair on the errand she has been sent. but is she happy? oh, no! for a little voice says: "lulu, you are stealing; the wool is not yours!" for a few minutes the wool rests in her pocket, and then she runs back up the stair; the schoolroom door is still closed as lulu draws the wool from her pocket, and gently puts it back on the window-sill. then she takes the message and returns to her place in the schoolroom, and to the knitting of her long stocking, hot and ashamed at the thought of what she has done, but glad in her heart that she listened to the good voice, and did not keep the wool. had any one seen her? did any one know about it? yes, there were loving eyes watching little lulu, and the one who looked down was very glad when she listened to the good voice. do you know who it was? god our father sees us all, boys and girls, and children small; when we listen to his voice, angels in their songs rejoice. have _you_ heard that voice, dear child, speaking in you, gentle, mild? always listen and obey, for it leads you the right way. (blackboard.) do not take what is not yours. _note._--to the mother or teacher who can read between the lines, this little story (which is not imaginary, but a true record of fact) bears another meaning. it shows the child's passionate love for objects that are pretty, especially coloured objects, and how the withholding of these may open the way to temptation. let the child's natural desire be gratified, and supply to it freely coloured wools, beads, etc., at the same time teaching the right use of them, according to kindergarten[ ] principles. (taking little things.) . carl and the lump of sugar. there are some people who think that taking =little= things is not stealing. but it =is=. there was a little boy, named carl, who began his wrong-doing by taking a piece of sugar. then he took another piece, and another; but he always did it when his mother was not looking. we always want to hide the doing of wrong--we feel so ashamed. one day carl's mother sent him to the shop for something, and he kept a halfpenny out of the change. his mother did not notice it; she never thought her little boy would steal. so it went on from bad to worse, until one day he stole a shilling from a boy in the school, and was expelled. as carl grew older he took larger sums, and you will not be surprised to hear that in the end he was sent to prison, and nearly broke his mother's heart. . lilie and the scent. lilie's cousin had a bottle of scent given to her, and it had such a pleasant smell that one day, when lilie was alone in the room, she thought she would like a little, so she unscrewed the stopper, and sprinkled a few drops on her handkerchief. i do not suppose her cousin would have been angry if she had known, but lilie knew the scent was not hers, and she was miserable the moment she had taken it, and had no peace until she confessed the fault, and asked her cousin's forgiveness. i wish carl had felt like that about the piece of sugar; do not you? then he would never have taken the larger things, and been sent to prison. (blackboard.) little wrongs lead to greater wrongs. carl--sugar--money--prison. . copying. it was the christmas examination at school, and the boys were all at their desks ready for the questions in arithmetic. will jones's desk was next tom hardy's, and everybody thought that =one= of these two boys would win the prize. as soon as the questions had been given out, the boys set to work. tom did all his sums on a scrap of paper first, then he copied them out carefully, and, after handing his paper to the master, left the room. unfortunately he left the scrap of paper on which he had worked his sums lying on the desk. will snatched it up, and looked to see if his answers were the same. no! two were different. tom's would be sure to be right; so he copied the sums from tom's scrap of paper. it was stealing, of course; just as much stealing as if he had taken tom's pen or knife. besides, it is so mean to let some one else do the work and then steal it from them--even the =birds= know that. some little birds were building themselves a nest, and to save the trouble of gathering materials, they went and took some twigs and other things from =another bird's nest= that was being built. but when the old birds saw what the little ones had done, they set to work and pulled the nest all to pieces. that was to teach them to go and find their =own= twigs and sticks, and not to steal from others. of course will was not happy. there was a little voice within that would not let him rest, and when the boys kept talking about the arithmetic prize, and wondering who would get it, he felt as though he would like to go and hide somewhere, he was so ashamed. that is one of the results of wrong-doing, as we said before--it always makes us ashamed. at last the day came when the master would tell who were the prize-winners. the boys were all sitting at their desks listening as the master read out these words:-- "tom hardy and will jones have all their sums right, but as will's paper is the neater of the two, =he= will take the first prize". the boys clapped their hands, but will was not glad. the voice within spoke louder and louder, so loudly that will was almost afraid some of the other boys would hear it, and his face grew red and hot. at last he determined to obey the good voice and tell the truth, so he rose from his seat, walked up to the master, and said: "please, sir, the prize does not belong to me, for i stole two of my answers from tom hardy. i am very sorry." the master was greatly surprised, but he could see that will was very sorry and unhappy. he held out his hand to him, and said: "i am glad, will, that you have been brave enough to confess this. it will make you far happier than the prize would have done, seeing that you had not honestly won it." so the prize went to tom, and will was never guilty of copying again; he remembered too well the unhappiness that followed it. (blackboard.) copying is stealing. . on finding things. when lulu reached her fifteenth birthday she had a watch given to her. one afternoon she was walking through a wood, up a steep and rocky path, and when she reached the top she stood for a few moments to rest. looking back down the wood she saw a boy coming by the same path, and when about half-way up he stooped down as if to raise something from the ground, but the thought did not occur to lulu that it might be anything belonging to her. when she was rested she walked on until she came to a house just outside the wood, where she was to take tea with a friend. after tea they sat and worked until the sun began to go down. then lulu said, "i think i must be going home; i will see what time it is," and she was going to take out her watch, when, alas! she found it was gone. "oh, dear!" said she, "what shall i do? how careless of me to put it in my belt; it was a present from my brother!" then she suddenly remembered standing at the top of the path and seeing the boy pick something up. "that would be my watch," said she. and so it was. the boy had followed her up the wood, and had seen her go into the house, but he did not give up the watch. he waited until some bills were posted offering a reward of £ , then he brought the watch and took the sovereign. if he had been an honest boy he would not have waited, but would have given up the watch at once. we ought not to wish any reward for doing what is right. it is quite enough to have the happiness that comes from obeying the good voice. we cannot build up a good character without honesty. do right because you =love= the right, and not for hope of gain; a conscience pure is rich reward, but doing wrong brings pain. (blackboard.) when you find anything, try to discover the owner, and give it up at once. footnote: [ ] _kindergarten guide_, published by messrs. longmans. vi. kindness. . squeaking wheels. a lady was one day taking a walk along a country lane, and just as she was passing the gate of a field a horse and cart came out, and went down the road in the same direction as she was going, and oh! how the wheels did squeak! the lady longed to get away from the sound of them. first she walked very quickly, hoping to get well ahead; but no, the horse hurried up too, and kept pace with her. perhaps =he= disliked the squeaking, and wanted his journey to be quickly finished. then she lingered behind, and sauntered along slowly, but squeak, squeak--the hateful sound was still there. at last the cart was driven down a lane to the right, and now the lady could listen to the songs of the birds, the humming of the bees, and the sweet rustle of the leaves as the wind played amongst them. "how much pleasanter," thought she, "are these sounds than the squeaking of the wheels." i wonder if you have ever seen any little children who make you think of those disagreeable wheels? they are children who do not like to lend their toys, or to play the games that their companions suggest, but who like, instead, to please themselves. do you know what the wheels needed to make them go sweetly? they needed oil. and the disagreeable children who grate on us with their selfish, unkind ways, need =another= sort of oil--the oil of kindness. =that= will make things go sweetly; so we will write on the blackboard (blackboard) squeaking wheels need oil. children need the oil of kindness. . birds and trees. did you know that trees and birds, bees and flowers could be kind to each other? they =can=; i will tell you how. see the pretty red cherries growing on that tree. all little children like cherries, and the birds like them too. a little bird comes flying to the cherry tree and asks, "may i have one of these rosy little balls, please?" "yes, little bird," says the cherry tree; "take some, by all means." so the bird has a nice fruit banquet with the cherries, and then, what do you think =he= does for the tree? "oh!" you say, "a little bird cannot do =anything= that would help a big tree." but he can. when he has eaten the cherry he drops the stone, and sometimes it sinks into the ground, and from it a young cherry tree springs up. the tree could not do that for itself, so we see that (blackboard) birds and trees are kind to each other. . flowers and bees. when you have been smelling a tiger-lily, has any of the yellow dust ever rested on the tip of your nose? (let the children see a tiger-lily, or a picture of one, if possible.) look into the large cup of the lily, and there, deep down, you will see some sweet, delicious juice. what is it for? ask the bee; she will tell you. here she comes, and down goes her long tongue into the flower. "ah! mrs. bee, the honey is for you, i see. and pray, what have you done for the flower? nothing, i'm afraid." "oh, yes, i have," hums the bee. "i brought her some flower-dust (pollen) on my back from another tiger-lily that i have been visiting to make her seeds grow. when i dip down into the flower some of the 'dust' clings to me, so i take it to the next tiger-lily that i visit, and she is very much obliged to me." you see, dear children, how the flowers help each other, and how the bee carries messages from one to another; so if (blackboard) birds and trees, flowers and bees are kind to each other, much more should children be kind. . lulu and the bundle. do you remember the story of "lulu and the wool"? this is a true tale of the same little girl when she was grown older. lulu's home was at the top of a hill, and the road leading up to it was very steep. one summer evening, as lulu walked home from town, she overtook a woman coming from market, and carrying a heavy basket as well as a bundle which was tied up in a blue checked handkerchief. the poor woman stopped to rest just as lulu came up to her. "let me carry your bundle," said lulu. and before the woman could answer she had picked it up and was trudging along. "perhaps your mother would not be pleased to see you carrying my bundle?" sighed the woman. "some people think it is vulgar to be seen carrying parcels." "it is never vulgar to be kind," answered lulu. "that is what mother would say." so they walked on until they came to the cottage, and lulu left the grateful woman at her own door, and forgot all about it. some years after, lulu had been away from home, and, missing her train, she returned laden with parcels one dark, wet night. there was no one to meet her, no one to help to carry her parcels, and the rain was pouring down. she hurried outside to look for a cab, but there was not one to be had, so she began to walk up the hill. after going a very little way she stopped to rest, the parcels were so heavy; and just then a man came up and said: "give me your parcels, miss, they seem too heavy for you". and lulu, astonished, handed them to him. he carried them to the door of her mother's house, and hardly waited to hear the grateful thanks lulu would have poured out. have you ever heard these words: "give, and it shall be given unto you". i think they came true in this little story. do not you? let us all try to build a good deal of the "pure gold" of kindness into our "temple". vii. thoughtfulness. . baby elsie and the stool. if you place your hand on your head you will feel something hard just beneath the hair. what is it? it is bone. pass your hand all over your head and you will still feel the bone. it is called the skull, and it covers up a wonderful thing called the brain, with which we think, and learn, and remember. a little baby girl was toddling about the room one afternoon while her mother sat sewing. the baby was a year and a half old. she had only just learned to walk, and could not talk much, but she had begun to think. presently she noticed a little stool under the table, and after a great deal of trouble she managed to get it out. can you guess what she wanted it for? (let children try to answer.) she wanted it for mother's feet to rest upon. elsie could not =say= this, but she dragged the stool until it was close to her mother, and then she patted it, and said "mamma," which meant, "put your feet on it". was not that a sweet, kind thing for a one-year-old baby to do? you see she was learning to think--to think for others, and you will not be surprised to hear that she grew up to be a kind, helpful girl, and was so bright and happy that her mother called her "sunshine". if any one asked me what kind of child i liked best, i believe the answer would be this: "a child who is thoughtful of others"; for a child who thinks of others will not be rude, or rough, or unkind. who was it slammed the door when mother had a headache? it was a child who did not think. who left his bat lying across the garden path so that baby tumbled over it and got a great bump on his little forehead? it was thoughtless jimmy. do not be thoughtless, dear children, for you cannot help hurting people, if you are thoughtless; and we are in the world to make it happy, =not= to =hurt=. thoughtfulness is a lovely jewel; let us all try to build it into our "temple". . the thoughtful soldier. a great soldier, sir ralph abercromby, had been wounded in battle, and was dying. as they carried him on board the ship in a litter a soldier's blanket was rolled up and placed beneath his head for a pillow to ease his pain. "whose blanket is this?" asked he. one of the soldiers answered that it only belonged to one of the men. "but i want to know the name of the man," said sir ralph. he was then told that the man's name was duncan roy, and he said: "then see that duncan roy gets his blanket this very night". you see how thoughtful he was for the other man's comfort, so thoughtful that he did not wish to keep duncan's blanket even though he himself was dying. is it not true that "thoughtfulness" is one of the most beautiful of the precious stones that you build with. (blackboard.) be thoughtful. viii. help one another. . the cat and the parrot.[ ] a cat and a parrot lived in the same house, and were very kind and friendly towards each other. one evening there was no one in the kitchen except the bird and the cat. the cook had gone upstairs, leaving a bowl full of dough to rise by the fire. before long the cat rushed upstairs, mewing and making signs for the cook to come down, then she jumped up and seized her apron, and tried to pull her along. what could be the matter, what had happened? cook went downstairs to see, and there was poor polly shrieking, calling out, flapping her wings, and struggling with all her might "up to her knees" in dough, and stuck quite fast. of course the cook lifted the parrot out, and cleaned the dough from her legs, but if pussy had not been her kind friend, and run for help, she would have sunk farther and farther into the dough, and perhaps in the end would have been smothered. (blackboard.) if a cat can help a bird, surely boys and girls should help each other. . the two monkeys.[ ] a ship that was crossing the sea had two monkeys on board; one of them was larger and older than the other, though she was not the mother of the younger one. now it happened one day that the little monkey fell overboard, and the bigger one was immediately very much excited. she had a cord tied round her waist, with which she had been fastened up, and what do you think she did? she scrambled down the outside of the ship, until she came to a ledge, then she held on to the ship with one hand, and with the other she held out the cord to the poor little monkey that was struggling in the water. was not she a clever, thoughtful, kind monkey? the cord was just a little too short, so one of the sailors threw out a longer rope, which the little monkey grasped, and by this means she was brought safely on board. you will remember the story of the monkey, who tried to save her little friend, and remember, also, that (blackboard) children should help one another. . the wounded bird. there is a beautiful story about birds helping each other in a book[ ] which you must read for yourselves when you grow older. one day a man was out with his gun, and shot a sea-bird, called a tern, which fell wounded into the sea, near the water's edge. the man stood and waited until the wind should blow the bird near enough for him to reach it, when, to his surprise, he saw two other terns fly down to the poor wounded bird and take hold of him, one at each wing, lift him out of the water, and carry him seawards. two other terns followed, and when the first two had carried him a few yards and were tired, they laid him down gently and the next two picked him up, and so they went on carrying him in turns until they reached a rock a good way off, where they laid him down. the sportsman then made his way to the rock, but when they saw him coming, a whole swarm of terns came together, and just before he reached the place, two of them again lifted up the wounded bird and bore him out to sea. the man was near enough to have hindered this if he had wished, but he was so pleased to see the kindness of the birds that he would not take the poor creature from them. so we have learnt another lesson from the birds, and will write it down. (blackboard.) birds helped the wounded tern; we should help each other. footnotes: [ ] romanes' _animal intelligence_. [ ] romanes' _animal intelligence_. [ ] smiles' _life of edward_. ix. on being brave. (brave in danger.) . how leonard saved his little brother. have you ever known a little girl who cried whenever her face was washed? or a little boy who screamed each time he had a tumble, although he might not be hurt in the least? you would not call =those= brave children, would you? we say that people are brave when they are not afraid to face danger, like the men who go out in the life-boat when the sea is rough to try and save a crew from shipwreck; or the brave firemen who rescue the inmates of a burning house. perhaps you think it is only grown-up people who can be brave, but that is not so; little children can be brave also, as you will see from this story of a little boy, about whom we read in the papers not long ago, and who lived not far from london. some children were playing near a pool, when, by some means, one of them, a little boy named arthur, three years old, fell in. all the children, except one, ran away. (=they= were not brave, were they?) the one who remained was little arthur's brother, leonard. he was only five years old, but he had a brave heart, and he went into the water at once, although he could not see arthur, who had fallen on his back under the water, and was too frightened to get up. leonard had seen where he fell, and though he did not know how deep the water was, he walked in, lifted his little brother up, and pulled him out. it was all done much more quickly than i have told you. if leonard had run away to fetch some one, instead of doing what he could himself, his brother must have been drowned, because he was fast in the mud. i am sure you will say that =leonard= was a brave little boy, and we should not think that =he= cries when he is washed, or when he has a little tumble. leonard teaches us to (blackboard) be brave in danger. (brave in little things.) . the twins. what a fuss some children make when they are hurt ever so little, and if a finger should bleed how dreadfully frightened they are! a lady told me this story of two little twin boys whom she knew. their names were bennie and joey, and they were just two years old. one day as they were playing together bennie cut his finger, and the blood came out in little drops. now, the twins had never seen blood before, and you will think, maybe, that bennie began to cry; but he did not. he looked at his finger and said: "oh! joey, look! what is this?" "don't know," said joey, shaking his head. then they both watched the bleeding finger for a little, and at last bennie said: "i know, joey; it is =gravy=". he had seen the gravy in the meat, and he thought this was something like it. anyhow, it was better than crying and making a fuss, do you not think? (blackboard.) be brave in little things. (brave in suffering.) . the broken arm. it was recreation time, and the boys were pretending to play football, when a boy of six, named robin, had an awkward fall and broke his arm. the teacher bound it up as well as she could, and robin did not cry, though the poor arm must have pained him. he walked quietly through the streets with the teacher, who took him to the doctor to have the broken bone set, and when the doctor pulled his arm straight out to get the bones in place before he bound it up, robin gave one little cry; that was all. he is now a grown-up man, but the teacher still remembers how brave he was when his arm was broken, and feels proud of her pupil. (blackboard) be brave in suffering. . the brave monkey.[ ] did you ever hear of a monkey having toothache? there was a monkey once who lived in a cage in some gardens in london, and he had a very bad toothache, which made a large swelling on his face. the poor creature was in such great pain that a dentist was sent for. (a dentist, tell the children, is a man who attends to teeth.) when the monkey was taken out of the cage he struggled, but as soon as the dentist placed his hand on the spot he was quite still. he laid his head down so that the dentist might look at his bad tooth, and then he allowed him to take it out without making any fuss whatever. there was a little girl once who screamed and struggled dreadfully when she was taken to have her hair cut, and that, you know, does not hurt at all. let us learn from the monkey, as we did from robin, to (blackboard) be brave in suffering. x. try, try again. . the sparrow that would not be beaten.[ ] a sparrow was one day flying over a road when he saw lying there a long strip of rag. "ah!" said he, "that would be nice for the nest we are building; i will take it home." so he picked up one end in his beak and flew away with it, but the wind blew the long streamer about his wings, and down he came, tumbling in the dust. soon he was up again, and, after giving himself a little shake, he took the rag by the other end and mounted in the air. but again it entangled his wings, and he was soon on the ground. next he seized it in the middle, but now there were =two= loose ends, and he was entangled more quickly than before. then he stopped to think for a minute, and looked at the rag as much as to say: "what shall i do with you next"? an idea struck him. he hopped up to the rag, and with his beak and claws rolled it into a nice little ball. then he drove his beak into it, shook his head once or twice to make sure that the ends were fast, and flew away in triumph. remember the sparrow and the rag, and (blackboard) do not be beaten, but try, try again. . the railway train. if you had been a little child a hundred years ago, instead of now, and had wished to travel to the seaside or any other place, do you know how you would have got there? you would have had to travel in a coach, for there were no trains in those days. i am afraid the little children who lived then did not get to the seashore as often as you do, unless they lived near it, for it cost so much money to ride in the coaches. how is it that we have trains now? there was a man called george stephenson--a poor man he was; he did not even know how to read until he went to a night school when he was eighteen years old, but he worked and worked at the steam-engine until he had made one that could draw a train along. so you see that because this man and others tried and tried again, all those years ago, we have the nice, quick trains to take us to the seaside cheaply, and to other places as well. like the sparrow, george stephenson teaches us to (blackboard) try, try again. . the man who found america. a long, long time ago the people in this country did not even know there =was= such a place as america; it was another "try, try again" man that found it out. his name was christopher columbus, and he thought there must be a country on the other side of that great ocean, if he could only get across. but it would take a good ship, and sailors, and money, and he had none of these. he was in a country called spain, and he asked the king and queen to help him, but for a great while they did not. however, he waited and never gave it up, and at last the queen said he should go, and off he started with two or three ships and a number of sailors. it was more than two months before the new land appeared, and sometimes the sailors were afraid when it was very stormy, and wanted to turn back, but columbus encouraged them to go on, and at last they saw the land. they all went on shore, and the first thing they did was to kneel down and thank god for bringing them safe to land; then they kissed the ground for very gladness, and wept tears of joy. when columbus came home again, bringing gold, and cotton, and wonderful birds from the new country, he was received with great rejoicing by the king and queen and all the people. do not forget this lesson:-- (blackboard) try, try again. footnotes: [ ] romanes' _animal intelligence_. [ ] _ibid._ xi. patience. . walter and the spoilt page. walter was busy doing his home lessons; he wanted to get them finished quickly, so that he could join his playmates at a game of cricket before it was time to go to bed. he was nearly at the end, and the page was just as neat as it could be--for walter worked very carefully--when, in turning the paper over, he gave the pen which was in his hand a sharp jerk, and a great splash of ink fell in the very middle of the neat, clean page. "oh, dear!" cried walter, "all my work is wasted. i shall get no marks for this lesson unless i write it all over again; and i wanted so much to go out and have a game." however, he was a brave boy, and his mother was glad to notice that he set to work quietly, and soon had it written over again. when bedtime came, she said: "walter, your accident with the ink made me think of a story. shall i tell it to you?" "oh, yes, mother! please do," said walter, for he loved stories. . the drawings eaten by the rats. "there was once a gentleman (audubon) in america," said his mother, "who was very fond of studying birds. he would go out in the woods to watch them, and he also made sketches of them, and worked so hard that he had nearly a thousand of these drawings, which, of course, he valued very much. one time he was going away from home for some months, and before he went he collected all his precious drawings together, put them carefully in a wooden box, and gave them to a relative to take care of until he came back. "the time went by and he returned, and soon after asked for the box containing his treasures. the box was there, but what do you think? two rats had found their way into it, and had made a home there for their young ones, and the beautiful drawings were all gnawed until nothing was left but tiny scraps of paper. you can guess how dreadfully disappointed the poor man would feel. but he tells us that in a few days he went out to the woods and began his drawings again as gaily as if nothing had happened; and he was pleased to think that he might now make better drawings than before. it was nearly three years before he had made up for what the rats had eaten. this man must have possessed the precious jewel of patience. do you not think so?" "what is patience, mother?" asked walter. "the little scotch girl said it meant 'wait a wee, and no weary,'" said his mother; "and i think that is a very good meaning. it is like saying that we must wait, and do the work over again, if necessary, without getting vexed or worried." patience is a good "stone" to have in the temple of character. (blackboard.) patience means:-- wait, and not weary. xii. on giving in. . playing at shop. you have often played at keeping shop, have you not? winnie and may were very fond of this game, and when it was holiday time they played it nearly every day. one morning they made the "shop" ready as usual; a stool was to be the "counter," and upon this they placed the scales, with all the things they meant to sell. when all was ready, winnie stood behind the "counter," and said, "i will be the 'shopman'!" "no!" exclaimed may, "=i= want to be 'shopman'; let me come behind the 'counter'." but winnie would not move, then may tried to =pull= her away, and winnie pushed may, and in the end both little girls were crying, and the game was spoilt. were not they foolish? how easy it would have been to take it in turns to be "shopman," and that would have been quite fair to both little girls. i am afraid we sometimes =forget= to be =fair= in our games. we will tell winnie and may the story of the two goats. . the two goats. perhaps you know that goats like to live on the rocks, and as they have cloven feet (that is, feet that are split up the middle) they can walk in places that would not be at all safe for your little feet. one day two goats met each other on a narrow ledge of rock where there was not room to pass. below them was a steep precipice; if they fell down there they would soon be dashed to pieces. how should they manage? it was now that one of the goats did a polite, kind, graceful act. she knelt down on the ledge so that the other goat might walk over her, and when this was done, she rose up and went on her way, so both the goats were safe and unhurt. the goat teaches us a beautiful lesson on "giving in". (blackboard.) the two goats, sometimes it is noble to give way. xiii. on being generous. . lilie and the beggar girl. you will think "generous" is a long word, but the stories will help you to understand what it means. lilie was staying with her auntie, for her mother had gone on a voyage with father in his ship. one day lilie heard a timid little knock at the back door. she ran to open it, and saw standing outside a poor little girl about her own size, with no shoes or stockings on. she asked for a piece of bread, and lilie's auntie went into the pantry to cut it. while she was away lilie noticed the little girl's bare feet, and, without thinking, she took off her own shoes and gave them to her. when the girl had gone, auntie asked, "where are your shoes, lilie?" and she replied, "i gave them to the little girl, auntie. i do not think mother would mind." it would have been better if lilie had asked auntie before she gave away her shoes; but auntie did not scold her; she only said to herself, "what a generous little soul the child has". . bertie and the porridge. bertie was a rosy-faced, healthy boy. his mother lived in a little cottage in the country, and she was too poor to buy dainties for her child, but the good, plain food he ate was quite enough to make him hearty and strong. his usual breakfast was a basin of porridge mixed with milk, and one bright, sunny morning he was sitting on the doorstep, waiting until it should be cool enough for him to eat, when he saw a very poor, old man leaning on the garden gate. bertie felt sure the old man must be wanting something to eat, he looked so pale and thin, and being a generous-hearted boy, he carried down his basin of porridge to the old man, and asked him to eat it, which he did with great enjoyment, for he was very hungry. i think you will understand now what being generous means. we may do good by giving away things that are of no use to us, but that is not being generous. (blackboard.) we are generous when we go without things, that others may have them. xiv. forgiveness. . the two dogs.[ ] one day two dogs had been quarrelling, and when they parted at night, they had not made it up, but went to rest, thinking hard things of each other, i fear. next day, however, one of the dogs brought a biscuit to the other, and laid it down beside him, as much as to say, "let us be friends". i think the other dog would be sure to forgive him after that, and we are sure they would both be much happier for being friends once more. (blackboard.) if you quarrel, make it up again. xv. good for evil. . the blotted copy-book. gladys and dora were in the same class at school, and when the teacher promised to give a prize for the cleanest, neatest and best-written copy-book, they determined to try and win the prize. both the little girls wrote their copies very carefully for several days, but by-and-by gladys grew a little careless, and her copies were not so well written as dora's. gladys knew this quite well, and yet she longed for the prize. what should she do? there was only one copy more to be written, and then it would have to be decided who should get the prize. sad to say, gladys thought of a very mean way by which she might spoil dora's chance of it. she went to school one morning very early--no one was there; softly she walked to dora's desk, and drew out her neat, tidy copy-book, which she opened at the last page, and, taking a pen, she dipped it in ink, and splashed the page all over; then she put it back in the desk, and said to herself, "there, now, the prize will be mine". but why does gladys feel so wretched all at once? a little voice that you have often heard spoke in her heart, and said, "oh! gladys, how mean, how unkind!" and she could not =help= being miserable. presently the school assembled, and when the writing lesson came round the teacher said, "now, girls, take out your copy-books and finish them". dora drew hers out, and when she opened it and saw the blots her cheeks grew scarlet and her eyes filled with tears. just then she turned and saw gladys glancing at her in an ashamed sort of way (as the elephant looked at his driver when he had stolen the cakes--story lesson ), and dora knew in her heart that it was gladys who had spoilt her copy-book. but she did not tell any one, not even when the teacher said, "oh! dora, what a mess you have made on your nice copy-book!" but she was thinking all the time, and when she went home she said to her mother, "mamma, may i give my little tin box with the flowers painted on it to gladys?" "why, dora," said her mother, "i thought you were very fond of that pretty box!" "so i am," replied dora, "that is why i want gladys to have it; please let me give it to her, mother!" so dora's mother consented, and next morning gladys found a small parcel on her desk, with a scrap of paper at the top, on which was written, "gladys, with love from dora". dora was generous, you see; she returned good for evil, and gladys felt far more sorrow for her fault than she would have done had dora caused her to be punished. neither gladys nor dora won the prize, but gladys learnt a lesson that was worth more than many prizes, and dora had a gladness in her heart that was better than a prize--the gladness that comes from listening to the good voice. "good for evil" is a beautiful "stone" to have in your temple. (blackboard.) it is generous to return good for evil. footnote: [ ] romanes' _animal intelligence_. xvi. gentleness. . the horse and the child. gentleness is a beautiful word, and i daresay you know what it means. when you are helping baby to walk, mother will say, "be =gentle= with her," which means, "do not be rough, do not hurt her". a =gentleman= is a man who is gentle, who will not =hurt=. did you ever hear of a horse who could behave like a gentleman? here is the story.[ ] "a horse was drawing a cart along a narrow lane in scotland when it spied a little child playing in the middle of the road. what do you think the kind, gentle horse did? it took hold of the little child's clothes with its teeth, lifted it up, and laid it gently on the bank at the side of the road, and then it turned its head to see that the cart had not hurt the child in passing. did not the horse behave like a gentleman?" i have seen boys and girls helping the little ones to dress in the cloakroom at school, or leading them carefully down the steps, or carrying the babies over rough places; =this= is gentleness, and the gentle boy will grow up to be a gentle man. . the overturned fruit stall. you have seen boys playing the game of "paper chase," or, as it is sometimes called, "hare and hounds". one or two boys start first, each carrying a bag full of small pieces of paper, which they scatter as they run. then all the other boys start, and follow the track made by the scattered paper. a number of boys were starting for a "paper chase" one saturday afternoon, and, passing quickly round a corner of the street, some of them ran against a little fruit stall and overturned it. the apples, pears and plums were all rolling on the ground, and the old woman who belonged to the stall looked at them in dismay. the boys all ran on except one, and he stayed behind to help to put the stall right, and to gather up all the fruit. that boy was =gentle= and kind, and the poor old woman could not thank him enough. be =gentle= to the little ones, be =gentle= to the old, be =gentle= to the lame, to =all=-- for it is true, i'm told, that =gentleness= is better far than riches, wealth or gold. footnote: [ ] _heads without hands._ xvii. on being grateful. . rose and her birthday present. a little girl called rose had a kind auntie who sent her half a sovereign for a birthday present. rose was delighted with the money, and was always talking of the many nice things it would buy, but she never thought of writing and =thanking= her auntie. that was not grateful, was it? when we =receive= anything, we should always think =at once= of the giver, and express our thanks without delay. that is why we say "grace" before eating: we wish to thank our kind father above for giving us the nice food to eat. the days went by, and still auntie received no word of thanks from her little niece. then a letter came asking, "has rosy had my letter with the present?" rose answered this, and said she =had= received the letter, and sent many thanks for the present. but how ashamed she must have felt that she had not written before! it is not nice to have to =ask= people for their thanks or gratitude; it ought to be given freely without asking. . the boy who was grateful. little vernon's father had a tricycle, and one day he fixed up a seat in front for his little boy, and took him for a nice, long ride. vernon sat facing his father, and he was so delighted with the ride, and so grateful to his kind father for bringing him, that he could not help putting his arms round his father's neck sometimes, and giving him a kiss as they went along. vernon's father told me this himself, and i was glad to know that the little boy possessed this precious gift of gratitude, for it is a lovely "stone" to have in the temple we are building. (blackboard.) do not forget to be grateful for kindness; and do not forget to show it. xviii. self-help. . the crow and the pitcher. perhaps you have heard the fable of the crow who was thirsty. he found a pitcher with a little water in it, but he could not get at the water, for the neck of the jug was narrow. did he leave the water and say, "it is of no use to try"? no; he set to work, and found a way out of the difficulty. the crow dropped pebbles into the jug, one by one, and these made the water rise until he could reach it. (illustrate by a tumbler with a few tablespoonfuls of water in it. drop in some pebbles, and show how the water rises as the pebbles take its place.) if you have a steep hill to climb, or a hard lesson to learn, do not sit down and cry, and think you cannot do it, but be determined that, like the crow, you will master the difficulty. when you were a little, tiny child, your father carried you over the rough places, but as you grow older, you walk over them yourself. you do not want to be carried now, for you are not helpless any longer. but i am afraid there are some children who =like= to be helpless, and to let mother do everything for them. i once knew a girl of ten who could not tie her own bootlaces; =she= was helpless. and i knew a little fellow of six who, when his mother was sick, could put on the kettle, and make her a cup of tea; he was a =helpful= boy. it is brave and nice of boys and girls to help themselves all they can, and not to be beaten by a little difficulty. remember the sparrow and the rag (story lesson ), as well as the crow, and (blackboard) do not be helpless, but master difficulty as the crow did. xix. content. . harold and the blind man. do you know what it is to be contented? it is just the opposite of being dissatisfied and unhappy. little harold was looking forward to a day in the glen on the morrow, but when the morning came it was wet and cold, and the journey had to be put off. harold had lots of toys to play with, but he would not touch any of them; he just stood with his face against the window-pane, discontented and unhappy. after a time he saw an old man with a stick coming up the street, and a little dog was walking beside him. as they drew nearer, harold saw that the old man held the dog by a string, and that it was leading him, for he was blind. the discontented little boy began to wonder what it must be like to be blind, and he shut his eyes very tight to try it. how dark it was! he could see nothing. how dreadful to be =always= in darkness! then he opened his eyes again, and looked at the old man's face; it was a peaceful, pleasant face. the old man did not look discontented and unhappy, and yet it was far worse to be blind than to be disappointed of a picnic. harold had yet to learn that it is not =outside= things that give content, but something within. he could not help being disappointed at the wet day, but he could have made the best of it and played with his toys, as indeed he did after seeing the blind man. (blackboard.) be content and make the best of things. xx. tidiness. . the slovenly boy. of =all= the untidy children you ever saw leo must have been the worst. his hair was unbrushed, his boots were uncleaned, and the laces were always trailing on the floor. why did he not learn to tie a bow? (for full instructions, with illustrations, on the "tying of a bow," see _games without music_.) it must be very uncomfortable to have one's boots all loose about the ankles, besides looking so untidy. can you guess how his stockings were? they were all in folds round his legs, instead of being drawn and held up tight, and he had always a button off somewhere. the worst of it was that leo did not seem to =mind= being untidy. i hope =you= are not like that. do all the little girls love to have smooth, clean pinafores? and do the boys like to have a clean collar and smooth hair? and do all of you keep your hands and faces clean? then you are like the children in these verses. . the tidy boy:-- a tidy boy would not be seen with rough or rumpled hair, nor come to meals with unwashed hands and face; and he will care to have his collar clean and white, and boots must polished be and bright. . the tidy girl:-- and what about the tidy girl? all nice and clean is she, her pinafore is smooth and straight, her hair neat as can be; no wrinkled sock, or untied lace does this neat, tidy girl disgrace. . pussy and the knitting. i wonder if you have heard of pussy getting mother's knitting and making it all in a tangle. these are the verses about it:-- puss in mischief.[ ] . "where are you, kitty? where are you?--say. i've scarcely seen you at all to-day. . "you're not in mischief, i hope, my dear; ah! now i have found you. how came you here? . "that's mother's knitting, you naughty kit; oh! such a tangle you've made of it. . "'twas =that= which kept you so very still; mamma will scold you, i know she will." . then puss comes to me, and rubs her fur against my fingers, and says "purr, purr". . i know she means it to say, "don't scold," so close in my arms my puss i hold. . and then i tell her, my little pet, that mother's knitting she must not get. . the wool will never be wound, i fear; but mother forgives my kitty dear. i do not suppose that pussy would =know= she was doing anything naughty in tangling the wool, but a =child= would know, of course, that wool must be kept straight and tidy if it is to be of use. . the packing of the trunks. nellie and madge were two little girls getting ready to go for a visit to grandmamma. she lived many miles away, and the children were to go by train and stay with her for a whole month. their clothes were all laid on the bed ready for packing, and as mother wanted them to grow up =helpful= girls, she said they might put the things in the boxes themselves. so nellie and madge began to pack. nellie took each article by itself, and laid it carefully in the box without creasing, putting all the heavier things at the bottom, and the dresses and lighter articles at the top. when she had laid them all in, the lid just closed nicely, and her work was finished. then she turned to see what madge was doing. madge had not packed more than half her pile, and the box was full. "what shall i do?" she cried, "i =cannot= get them all in." just then mamma came up and said: "have you finished, children? it is nearly train time". her eyes fell on the box madge was packing, and she exclaimed, "oh! madge, you have put the clothes in anyhow, everything must be taken out!" madge had just thrown them in "higgledy-piggledy," instead of laying them straight, and they came out a crumpled heap. she was so hot and flurried, and so afraid of being late for the train, that she could hardly keep the tears back, but mamma and nellie helped to straighten the things, and to pack them neatly, and just as the cab drove up to the door the last frock was laid in the box, and the lid went down without any trouble. madge remembered to take more pains next time she packed her box. i was in a house one day, and when the lady opened a drawer to get something out, the articles in the drawer =bounced up= just like a "jack in the box," because you see, they had been put in anyhow, and then crushed down to allow the drawer to be closed. of course she could not find what she wanted. i hope none of =your= drawers are like a "jack in the box". i wonder if untidy people are lazy? i am afraid they are. a girl came home from school one day, and threw her wet cloak on a chair all in a heap, instead of hanging it up nicely on a peg. when she next wanted to wear the cloak, it was all over creases and not fit to put on. perhaps she thought that mother would see it on the chair, and hang it up for her, but a nice, thoughtful child would not like to give mother the trouble, would she? (blackboard.) be tidy and neat. footnote: [ ] _new recitations for infants_, p. . xxi. modesty. . the violet. two friends were walking along a country road, and as they went on one said: "i do believe there are violets somewhere on this bank, the air smells so sweet". the other lady replied that she did not see any; but, looking carefully, they at last found the leaves, and there, hiding away among them, was the little sweet violet, with its delicious scent. why does the little violet hide away? because she is =modest=, which means that she does not like to =boast=, or make a display of her pretty petals and sweet perfume. =modest= people do not like to talk of kind, noble or clever things they may have done; they prefer to =hide= their good deeds, and in this they are like the violet. . modesty in dress. there is another way in which children can be modest--they can be modest about dress. a child's dress is not so long as that of a grown-up person, because children want to romp and play about, but a =modest= child always likes its dress to cover it nicely, and will take care that no buttons are unfastened. one evening some children were playing about on the hearthrug, when one of them, a little girl named jessie, jumped up quite suddenly, and, with a blushing face, ran out of the room. the governess followed to see what was the matter, and jessie told her in a whisper that she was =so= ashamed, because in romping about her dress had gone above her knees. some people might say that jessie was =too= modest, but i do not think so; a nice little girl will always like to keep her knees covered. in america the children have much longer dresses than in our country, and they would think little girls very rude who were not as careful as jessie. you will think for yourselves of many other ways in which children can be modest. it is a good rule never to do =anything= that we would be ashamed for teacher or mother to see. xxii. on giving pleasure to others. . "selfless" and "thoughtful"--a fairy tale. "selfless" and "thoughtful" were sisters of the little "gold-wings" (story lesson ). i cannot tell you which of the two was the sweetest and best; they were =both= so lovable, for like "gold-wings" they were always thinking of others, and especially of how they could give pleasure to the sick and weak. one day, as they sat on a mossy bank in the fairy wood, "selfless" asked, "what shall we do next, sister?" and "thoughtful" made answer, "i have been thinking of little davie, who is so lame and weak; suppose i go to the kindergarten and try to get some one to be kind to him". "a good idea," replied "selfless," "and i will fly over the fields and see what can be done there; then in the moonlight we will meet, and tell each other what we have done." so they spread their pretty wings and flew away. * * * * * now it is night in the fairy wood, and in the silver moonlight the sisters rest again on the mossy bank and talk. . the bunch of roses. "i flew to the kindergarten," said "thoughtful," "you know davie used to attend there before he was ill. of course no one saw me, and as i hovered over the teacher's desk, little bessie, a rosy-cheeked maid, came up and laid a lovely bunch of crimson roses upon it for the teacher. the scent was so delicious i could not help nestling down into one of the roses to enjoy it better. the teacher picked up the flowers, not knowing i was there, and as she buried her face in the soft petals, to smell the sweet perfume, i whispered 'send them to davie'." "a smile instantly came over her face, and she said: 'bessie, a good fairy has whispered a kind thought to me; shall we send your pretty roses to davie?'" "'oh! yes,' said bessie, 'please let me take them to him with your love, for i gave them to you." "so the roses were taken to davie, and how happy they made him to be sure! and the =teacher= was happy because she had remembered poor davie, and =bessie= was happy to carry the flowers to him, so i came away glad, also; but what have =you= done, dear sister?" . edwin and the birthday party. then "selfless" answered:-- "i flew away over the fields, and there i saw a little boy, dressed all in his best clothes, speeding away across the field-path, and i knew that he was going to a birthday party, and that he was walking quickly so as to be in time; for there was to be a lovely birthday cake, all iced over with sugar; and little pieces of silver, called threepenny pieces, had been scattered through the cake, so of course edwin wanted to be there when it was cut up. "i saw a little girl in the fields, also, walking along the hedges looking for blackberries, and in trying to reach a branch of the ripe fruit that grew on the farther side of a ditch, the poor child overbalanced herself and fell in, uttering a loud scream. "edwin heard the scream and said to himself, 'i wonder what that is? i should like to go and see, but oh, dear! it will perhaps make me late for the party'. then the bad voice spoke to him, and said, 'never mind the scream; hurry on to the party," and edwin hurried on, but his cheeks grew hot, and he looked unhappy. "soon the child screamed again, and the good voice said, 'help! edwin, never mind self,' and with that he turned back, and ran to the place where the sounds had seemed to come from. he soon saw the little girl, who was trying to scramble up the steep side of the ditch, and could not; it needed the help of edwin's strong hands to give her a good pull, and bring her safely out. oh, how glad she was to be on the grass once more! edwin wiped her tears away, and told her to run home; then he made haste to the party with a light, glad heart, and he arrived just as they were sitting down to tea, so he was in time for the cake after all. but even if he had =missed= it, he would have been glad that he stayed behind to help the little girl." "what a nice boy," said "thoughtful". "did he tell the people at the party what he had done?" "oh, =no=," replied "selfless"; "his mother told him that people should =never boast= of kind things they had done, for that would spoil it." "true," said "thoughtful"; "but what did =you= do, dear "selfless"? it is not boasting to tell =me=." "i only helped edwin to listen to the good voice," replied "selfless," as she looked down on the moss at her feet. "a good work, too," said "thoughtful"; "and now, what shall we do next?" . davie's christmas present. "i have been thinking," said "selfless," "that christmas will soon be here, and how nice it would be if we could help the children at the kindergarten to think of davie, and make ready a christmas present for him." "a lovely idea," said "thoughtful"; "we will go to-morrow, for it wants only a month to christmas." next morning the two fairy sisters came to the kindergarten, and floated about unseen, as fairies always do. first they rested on the teacher, who was very fond of these unseen fairies, and she began to think of davie. "children," said she, "christmas will be here in a month; shall we make a present for little davie?" (do you know, i believe that doing kind things is like going to parties; when you have been to =one= party, you like it so much that you are glad to go to =another=, and when you have done =one= kind thing, it makes you so happy you want to do =another=.) bessie was the first to answer, and she said, "oh, yes, it would be lovely to make a christmas present for davie; do let us try". and all the children said, "yes, do let us try". "it must be something made by your own little hands," said the teacher. "think now, what could you do?" "we could make some little 'boats'[ ] in paperfolding," said one child. teacher said that would do nicely, and she wrote it down. another child said, "i could sew a 'cat' in the embroidery lesson," and bessie exclaimed, "please let me sew a 'kitten' to go with it," and the teacher wrote that down, and remarked that some one else might make the "saucer" for pussy's milk, in pricking. then others might make a "nest"[ ] in clay with eggs in it, and a little "bird" sitting on the eggs, suggested the teacher; and as the "babies" begged to be allowed to help also, it was decided that they should thread pretty coloured beads on sticks, and make a nice large "basket".[ ] "now," said teacher, "i have quite a long list, and we must begin at once." so they all set to work, and when breaking-up day came, davie's present was ready. there was a whole fleet of "ships," white inside and crimson outside. the pictures of "pussy" and her "kitten" were neatly sewn, and the "saucer" was white and clean, and evenly pricked, while the "bird" on its "nest" looked as pretty as could be, and the "bead basket" was the best of all--at least the =babies= thought so. i have no words to tell of the joy that the children's present brought to little davie, his face flushed with pleasure as the "boats" and other gifts were spread out before him; it was so delightful to think that the children had remembered =him= and =worked= for him. "selfless" and "thoughtful" sat once more on the mossy bank, and rejoiced that the plan had worked so well. if these little fairies and their sister "kindness" should ever suggest thoughts to =you=, dear boys and girls, do not send them away. they will speak to you through the good voice, and the happiest people in the world are the people who listen to the good voice. footnotes: [ ] _kindergarten guide_, boat, p. , no. . [ ] _kindergarten guide_, nest, p. , no. ; basket, plate , opposite p. , no. in fig. . xxiii. cleanliness.[ ] . why we should be clean. (show the children a sponge.) here is a sponge! what do we see all over the sponge? we see little holes. there is another name for these--we call them =pores=. (write "pores" on blackboard.) what comes out on your forehead sometimes on a hot day? drops of water come out. they come through tiny holes in the skin, so tiny that we cannot see them, and these also are called pores. once upon a time, long, long ago, there was to be a grand procession in a fine old city called rome, and a little golden-haired child was gilded all over his body to represent "the golden age" in the procession. when it was over the little child was soon dead. can you guess why? the pores in his skin had been all stopped up with the gilding, so that the damp, warm air could not get out, and that caused his death. you see, then, that we breathe with these little pores, just as we breathe with our nose and mouth, and if the pores were all closed up we should die. now you will understand why we have to be washed and bathed. what is it that the dirt does to your pores? it stops them up, so (blackboard) to be healthy, we must be clean. . little creatures who like to be clean. you know that pussy likes to be clean, and that she washes herself carefully, and her little kittens, also, until they are big enough to wash themselves; but there are other creatures, much smaller than the cat, who like to be clean. do you know what shrimps or prawns are? i daresay you have often eaten a shrimp! have you ever counted its ten long legs? on the front pair there are two tiny brushes, and the prawn has been seen to stand up on his eight hind legs, and brush himself with the tiny tufts on his front legs, to get all the sand away. is not that clever for such a little fellow? there is another creature, very much smaller than the prawn, that is particularly clean, though we do not like to have it in our houses. if the housemaid sees its little "parlour" in the corner of a room, she sweeps it away. you remember who it was that said: "will you walk into my parlour?" it was the spider, and it is the spider who is so very fond of being clean, that it cannot bear to have a grain of dust anywhere about its body. its hairs and legs are always kept perfectly clean. then there is the tiny ant, which is smaller than a fly, and it loves to keep itself nice and clean, so if (blackboard) shrimps and spiders and ants like to be clean, children should like to be clean. . the boy who did not like to be washed. sydney was a little boy who did not like to be washed. he disliked it as much as the little dog in story lesson no. . when the time came for his bath he screamed and kicked and made such a fuss that at last his mother said he should remain dirty for a while, and see what would happen. so sydney had no bath when he went to bed at night, neither was he washed in the morning. of course no one wanted to kiss him, or play with him, for he was not sweet and clean; he had to play all by himself in the garden. presently a carriage drove up and stopped at the garden gate; then a gentleman stepped out, walked up to the door, and rang the bell, which was answered by sydney's mother. "i have called to take your little boy for a drive," said the gentleman, "but i am in a great hurry; could you have him ready at once?" just then sydney peeped in at the door. oh! what a little blackamoor he was, not fit for any one to see! his mother had to explain to the kind gentleman how it was that he looked so dirty, and, as nothing but a bath and a whole suit of clean clothes would make him fit to go, he had to be left behind. poor sydney began to feel very sad and sorry now, and when the carriage had driven away he ran up to his mother, hid his little black face in her dress, and burst into tears. "oh, mother," he cried, "do make me a clean boy again; i will never be naughty any more when i am washed." sydney never forgot the lesson he had learnt that (blackboard) nobody likes children to be dirty. . the nails and the teeth. what a good thing it is that we have nice, hard nails to keep the tips of our fingers from being hurt! how sore they would get if it were not for those bright, horny nails, and how well they protect the finger-tips, which have to touch so many things! most of the nail is fast to the finger, but at the outer edge there is a little space =between= the nail and the finger, and if we are not careful this little space gets filled with dirt, and then the nail has a black band across the top, which looks very ugly. when the nails are long, the band is wider, and, although the dirt is =under= the nail, it shows on the outside, because the nail is transparent, that is, it can be seen through. do you like to have your hands clean? then there must be no black bands to disfigure the pretty, shining nails; our hands cannot be called clean if there is a little arch of dirt at the tip of each finger. ask mother to cut the nails when they get too long, then you can keep them clean more easily. men who do work that soils their hands very much like the chimney-sweep (story lesson ) cannot possibly keep their nails clean, but children can. there was once a little boy who had the funniest finger-tips i ever saw. the nails were so short that there was not the tiniest space between the outer edge and the fleshy part, and so the tip of each finger had grown out like a little round cushion, not at all pretty to look at. if the little boy saw any one noticing his hands, he would hide them away, lest he should be asked what it was that caused the finger-tips to look so funny. i wonder if =you= can guess the reason? it was because the boy bit his nails. what a horrid thing to do! was it not? and how do you think his mother cured him? she dipped the tips of his fingers in tincture of bitter aloes, so that when he put them in his mouth he might get the bitter taste, and leave off biting them. i once heard a gentleman say that =he= thought it was very rude to put a pencil or anything near the mouth, so what would he think of a child who put his =fingers= in his mouth, and bit his nails? baby may suck her little thumb sometimes, perhaps, because she does not know better, but sensible children will remember that it is rude to put fingers in mouth. (blackboard.) keep your nails clean. do not put fingers in mouth. can you think of anything else that should be kept clean besides the nails? in your mouth are two rows of beautiful little, white teeth. at least they =ought= to be white, but if we do not keep them clean, they often get discoloured and begin to decay and give us pain. we should each have a tooth-brush, and use it every day to cleanse the teeth, dipping it first in nice, clean water, and when the brushing is done, the mouth should be rinsed several times. the teeth should be brushed up and down from the gums (not from left to right), so that we may get all the particles of food from the tiny spaces between the teeth. if we do this regularly we shall not be likely to suffer much from toothache. two white rows of pearly teeth, what can prettier be? if you =keep= them clean and white, they are fair to see. (blackboard.) why we brush teeth:-- . to keep clean and prevent toothache. . to make them look nice. footnote: [ ] no. , "washing one's self" in _games without music_ might be appropriately used with above subject. xxiv. pure language. . toads and diamonds--a fairy tale. there was an old woman at a well, who, when a little girl came to draw water, asked for a drink, and the kind little maiden lifted the jug to the old woman's lips, and told her to take as much as she wished. then the old woman blessed her for her kindness, and said that whenever the child spoke, pearls and diamonds should fall from her lips. then another girl came to the well, and again the old woman asked to drink, but the girl said, "no! draw water for yourself". that was rude and unkind, was it not? the old woman, who was really the queen of the fairies, could not bless =this= girl for her kindness, because she had showed none, so she said that whenever the girl spoke, toads and vipers should fall from her lips. that is like the people who do not speak good, pure language; the bad words that fall from their lips are like toads and vipers. i hope you have never heard such words, but if you ever should, do not stop to listen, for wicked words are like the pitch that martin tried to play with (story lesson ); the person who says them cannot be pure and true, for bad words are not =clean=. a lady was travelling in a railway train one day, and several young men were in the carriage, who spoke and looked like gentlemen. but by-and-by they began to swear dreadfully, and the lady asked if they would be kind enough to say the bad words in greek or latin, so that she could not understand them. she did not want to hear the bad words, you see; they were like toads and vipers to her, because she loved what was pure and clean. (blackboard.) keep your language pure. do not listen to bad words. xxv. punctuality. . lewis and the school picnic. there was once a little boy called lewis, who had one bad fault--he was very, very slow; so slow, that i am afraid he was really lazy. he could do his sums quite well, but he was always the last boy to get them finished; and in a morning his mother had no end of trouble to get him off to school in time, he did everything so slowly. (read the following sentence very deliberately, and allow the children to fill in the adverbs): he got out of bed (slowly), dressed himself (slowly), washed himself (slowly), laced his boots (slowly), ate his breakfast (slowly), and walked to school at the same pace (slowly). now one day a gentleman came to the school, and told the teacher that he was going to take all the children in a boat down the river to have a picnic by the seaside. could anything be more delightful? the scholars clapped their hands for gladness, and talked and thought of nothing but the picnic. it was to be on the very next day, and they were to start from the school at nine o'clock in the morning. "lewis," said the teacher, "remember to be in time, for the boat will not wait!" the morning came, and lewis was called by his mother at seven o'clock. "there is plenty of time," said lewis, "i will lie a little longer;" and he did so. then his mother called again, and this time he rose, but he went through all his work as slowly as ever, and all the time his mother was telling him to "hurry up" or he would be too late. at last he is ready to start; but just as he leaves the house a bell is rung. "what is that?" says lewis; "it must be the bell of the steamer. i have no time to go round by the school; i must go straight to the pier," and off he ran. but, alas! by the time he reached the pier the boat was steaming off. he could see the children with their pails and spades waving their handkerchiefs in glee, and there was he left behind! i was telling this story to a little boy once, and when it came to this part he said: "oh, auntie! could not they get a little boat and take lewis to the steamer? it is so hard for him to be left behind." but you see, boys and girls, we =must= be left behind, if we are slow and lazy. i am glad to tell you, however, that lewis was cured of his fault by this disappointment. he really did try to get on more quickly afterwards, and he succeeded. at school he had his sums finished so soon that the teacher began to let him help the other boys who did not get on so well, and lewis was quite proud and happy. then he came to school so early that he was made "monitor," and had to put out the slates and books, ready for the others. so, after all, lewis grew up to be smart and quick, and not like the man you will hear of in another story (story lesson ), who grew worse as he grew older. (blackboard.) do not be slow and lazy, or you will be always "too late". xxvi. all work honourable. . the chimney-sweep. "mother," said little frank, "i saw a man walking along the street to-day with a bundle of brushes in his hand, and such a black face. i was careful not to touch him as i passed, he looked so dirty--quite a 'blackamoor'"! "ah!" said his mother, "that was a chimney-sweep; he cannot =help= being dirty, and my little boy ought to feel very kindly to him, for we should be badly off without such men." not many days afterwards there was a storm. how the wind blew and roared! all through the night it rattled the windows and whistled in the chimney. frank's mother went downstairs early in the morning to make a fire, but as soon as she lighted it, puff! the smoke came down the chimney, and filled the room, and she was obliged to let the fire go out. down came the children for breakfast, and frank cried: "is the fire not lighted, mother? i am so cold; and oh! the house =is= smoky." "i have tried to light a fire," said his mother, "but the smoke blows down the chimney. i think it needs sweeping; i shall have to give you milk for breakfast; there is no nice, hot coffee for you, because the fire will not burn." after breakfast frank's brother went to fetch the chimney-sweep, who soon came, and with his long brushes brought down all the soot, which he carried away in a bag. then the fire burned merrily, making the room look quite bright and cheerful, and frank said: "thank you, mr. chimney-sweep, for your good work. i will never call you 'blackamoor' again; and when i meet you in the street, i will not think you are too dirty to speak to." frank had learnt two lessons:-- (blackboard) . some work makes men black. . we must be kind to these men, for we need their work. xxvii. bad companions. . playing with pitch. you have seen the men at work mending the roads, and you know how sometimes they spread little stones all over the road, and then roll them flat with a steam-roller. but in some places the roads are laid with stones as large as bricks, and when these have all been placed together, the men take a large can with a spout, full of hot pitch, and pour it into the spaces between the stones to fasten them together. a little boy, named martin, was watching the men do this one day, and he said to himself, "i should like a piece of that black stuff; it has cooled now, and looks like a black piece of dough; i could make all sorts of shapes with it, and i do not believe it would soil my hands". so he picked up a length that lay near him, rolled it into a ball, and put it in his pocket. some of the tar stuck to his hands, and when he washed them it did not come off, but it was now school time, and away he went. when he came out of school, he put his hand in his pocket to get the tar, and oh, what a sticky mess it was! his pocket was all over tar, so was his hand, and when he reached home, his mother set to work to get it off, and it took her a long, long time. martin was mistaken in thinking he could play with the pitch and not get soiled. . stealing strawberries. when martin grew older he had some playmates who were not very good, and his mother said, "martin, i wish you would not play with those boys; i fear they will get you into trouble". "oh! no, mother," replied martin, "if they =wanted= me to do anything wrong i would not; i need not learn their bad ways if i =do= play with them." but his mother shook her head, for she knew better. some time afterwards the boys had a half-holiday, and martin went with his friends into the country. presently they came to a large garden, with a high wall round it, and the boys began to climb the wall. "where are you going?" asked martin. "oh!" said one of the boys, laughing, "a friend of ours owns this garden, and we are going to help him gather strawberries." there was a large bed of strawberries on the other side of the wall, and as soon as the boys were over, they began to pick and eat. what the boy had told martin was quite untrue--they were =stealing= the strawberries; but before very long the gardener spied them, and with one or two other men came upon them so quietly, that they had no time to get away, and every boy was made prisoner. the gardener locked them up in the tool-house until the owner came, and he took their names and addresses, and said they should be brought before the magistrates, as it was not the first time they had stolen his fruit. of course martin had not been with them the other times, but he was caught with them now, and can you imagine how dreadfully ashamed he felt, and how his cheeks burned when he thought of his dear mother, and the trouble it would be to her. when he reached home, he told his mother all that had happened, and begged her forgiveness. his mother was greatly distressed, and said: "you remember playing with the pitch, martin, when you were a very little boy--you thought you could handle it, and still keep clean, but you could not; so neither can you have bad companions without being mixed up in wrong-doing". (blackboard.) to mix with bad company is like playing with pitch. xxviii. on forgetting. . maggie's birthday present. it was maggie's birthday, and her father brought her as a present something that she had been wishing for a very long time. it was a beautiful yellow canary, and its little house was the prettiest cage imaginable, for it was made of brass wire, which was so bright that you could almost think it was gold. of course maggie was delighted. "it is just what i have been wishing for," said she; "i shall feed the canary myself, and give it fresh water every day; it is the prettiest bird i ever saw." for some weeks maggie remembered her little pet each day, and attended to all its wants, but there came a day when there was to be a picnic for all the school children, and maggie was so excited and glad about the picnic that she forgot all about feeding the bird. then next day there was hay-making, and she was in the field all day, and again forgot the poor bird. this went on for a few days, and when at last she =did= remember, and went to the cage, the bird was dead. maggie was full of grief, and cried until her head ached, but she could not undo the results of her forgetting. some people think it is a =little= fault to forget, but that cannot be, for we know well that "forgetting" often causes pain and suffering to others. (blackboard.) forgetting often causes pain. . the promised drive. daniel was a lame little boy. he could not walk at all, nor play about with the other children, so he was very puny and pale. his mother used to put his little chair near the door of the cottage where they lived, so that he could watch the people pass, and one day, as he sat there, a lady came by with a well-dressed little boy, and when she saw the pale-faced child she stopped and spoke to him, and then daniel's mother came to the door, and invited her to step inside the cottage. the lady's little boy was called emil, and he stood on the doorstep talking to daniel, while the two mothers spoke together within the cottage. emil, who was a kind-hearted little fellow, felt very sorry for the lame child, and when he found that daniel was never able to go any farther than the street where he lived, emil said: "i will ask my father to bring his carriage round and take you for a drive; i am sure he will, and then you can see the green fields and trees, and hear the birds sing". daniel's little face flushed with pleasure, and he said; "oh that would be lovely!" by-and-by the lady and her boy said "good-bye," and went away, and then daniel told his mother all that emil had said. "do you think he will come to-morrow, mother?" asked daniel. "perhaps not to-morrow, dear," replied she, "but some day soon maybe." so daniel sat at the door each day, and waited for the carriage, but it never came, and when he grew too ill to sit up he would still lie and listen for the sound of the wheels, and say: "i think it will come to-day, mother," but it never did. and do you know why? emil had forgotten to ask his father, and so daniel waited in vain for the drive. you see how much pain and disappointment can be caused by forgetting, and when you promise to do a thing and forget to =keep= the promise it is just like telling an untruth. you do not =intend= to speak what is not the truth, but you do it all the same. remember, then, that it is =not= a little fault to forget, and that those who do it are not building on the firm foundation of truth. (blackboard.) when we promise and forget, we are not true. _to the parent or teacher._--however culpable it may be to break promises to adults (and it is in reality nothing less than untruth), it is infinitely worse to break faith with children. an unredeemed promise is a sure way of shaking a child's confidence in truth and goodness. let us keep our word with the little ones at whatever cost. . the boy who remembered. little elsie had a big brother called jack, of whom she was very fond, and he was fond of elsie also. jack was about fifteen years old, and he was learning to be a sailor. when his ship came into port he used to come home for a few days, and then he would tell elsie all about the places he had seen. one time the voyage had been very long, and jack told elsie that when the bread was all finished they had had to eat sea-biscuits instead. "how funny," said elsie; "what are sea-biscuits like, jack?" "they are very hard and round and thick," replied jack. elsie said she would like to see one, and jack promised that when he went back to his ship he would send her one. it was not a great thing to promise, was it? but elsie felt very important when the postman brought her a little parcel a day or two after jack had left, and she was very glad when she opened it and found the promised biscuit. "there is one good thing about jack," exclaimed elsie, "he always does what he says." i think jack would have been pleased to hear elsie say that; it is one of the nicest things that =could= have been said about him. i hope it is true of all of us. (blackboard.) to forget is not a little thing. be true, and do what you say. xxix. kindness to animals. . lulu and the sparrow. as lulu came home from school one afternoon, she noticed three or four boys throwing stones at something--i hardly like to =tell= you what. it was a poor little brown sparrow that had somehow hurt its leg, and could not fly. however, this happened a great many years ago, and perhaps boys are less cruel now. lulu could not bear to see the poor bird treated so badly, and she asked the boys to give it to her. at first they laughed, and went on throwing the stones; but she continued to beg for it so earnestly, that at last one of the boys said, "let her have it". and lulu was only too glad to pick up the wounded bird and carry it home. she nursed and fed it carefully, and put it in a warm place by the fire; but, in spite of all her care, the sparrow died in a few hours. sometimes pain is necessary, as in story lesson ; we should never think of saying the dentist was cruel; rather we should say he was kind, because he saved the monkey from =further= pain. but when we cause pain that is =needless=, as these boys did, it is =cruel=. they were cowardly also. if the bird had been an eagle, with strong claws that could have hurt them in return, would they have stoned it? no; they chose a poor little sparrow that could not defend itself, and this was =cowardly=. then it was =unfair=. you do not like to be punished or found fault with if you have done nothing wrong; you feel it is not fair; neither is it fair to hurt a dumb animal that has done nothing wrong. . why we should be kind to animals. just think how many things animals do for us. where did the wool come from that makes your nice, warm clothes? (let children answer.) how do we get the coals to our houses--the coals that make the bright, hot fires? (ans.) what could we do without the brave, strong horses? i heard the other day of a man who did not give his horse enough to eat. what kind of man was he? (ans.) i would rather be like the arab, who loves his horse so much that he brings it into his tent, and shares his food and bed with it. where do we get our milk, butter and cheese? (ans.) then think of all the stories of animals in this book, who have done kind, clever things (and all these stories are true). if boys and girls would =think=, i am quite sure they would never be unkind to animals. . the butterfly. one day a boy was chasing a butterfly, cap in hand, and just as he had caught it, a bee stung him. he was so angry that he threw the butterfly down and trampled on it. was not that cruel? the butterfly had done him no harm, and the greatest skill in the world could not paint anything so delicate and beautiful as a butterfly's wing; and yet he destroyed that beauty. sometimes children will hunt spiders out of the crevices in the wall and torture them, and others will torment the little fly, or steal the bird's pretty eggs that the mother sits on with such care. all this is cruel and unkind. remember it is =not noble= to hurt. the truest gentleman is he who is full of kindness and gentleness and will not hurt anything. . the kind-hearted dog. have you ever seen children riding donkeys at the seaside? and have you noticed how the boys beat the poor things sometimes to make them go faster? i do not think a =kind= boy or girl would like to have a donkey beaten. i hope =you= would not. there was once a little dog who could not bear to see any creature beaten. if any one were ill-treating a dog he would rush up and bark quite angrily, and when he was driving in the dog-cart with his master, he always used to hold the sleeve of his master's coat every time he touched the horse with the whip, as if he would have said, "do not beat him, please". now, if a =dog= knows that it is not kind to hurt dumb creatures, we are sure boys and girls know. (blackboard.) to hurt animals is cruel, for the pain is needless. it is unfair, for they do not deserve it. it is cowardly, for often they cannot hurt you in return. xxx. bad temper. . how paul was cured. paul was a little boy who was very fond of having his own way, and when he could not get it he used to throw himself into the most dreadful tempers. he would take his pocket-handkerchief and tear it all to pieces in his rage, not to mention lying on the floor and kicking with his heels. one day his governess said to him, "paul, i will tell you a true story". paul sat down ready to listen, for he loved stories, so the governess began:-- "there was once a little boy, bright, honest and truthful, always ready to run messages for his mother, or to help a schoolmate with his lessons, he was so good-natured. but henry (for that was his name) had one great fault--he would get into violent passions when any one vexed him, and as he grew older his passion became stronger, and had the mastery of him more and more. he was a sailor, and as time went on he had a ship of his own, and was captain of it. henry could manage the ship well; he knew just how to turn the wheel to make her go east or west, and he knew also how to trim the sails to make the ship move swiftly along. if he could have controlled his temper as he did his ship, all might have been well. but he used to be very angry with the sailors when they did not please him, and one day when the cabin-boy had done something that vexed him, the captain in a fit of passion beat the poor boy so cruelly that he died. when the ship came home the captain was taken to prison, and in the end he lost =his= life for having taken the boy's life." the governess paused, and paul gazed up into her face with wide-open, anxious eyes. "is =that= what happens to boys who get into a passion?" he asked. "it happened to the captain," said she. "then i will never give way to passion again if it has such a dreadful ending," said paul, and the governess told me that he kept his word. (blackboard.) if bad temper gets the mastery, it leads to sad results. . the young horse. edgar was riding in the train with his mother one day. he sat next the window, as children like to do, so that he could see all that was going on. how the train speeds along! now passing through a tunnel, then out again into the sunshine; next it goes over a long row of arches built across a valley, and called a viaduct. "how high up we seem to be," said edgar; "see, mother, the river is down there ever so far below!" now they are passing through fields again, and there, looking over the hedge, is a beautiful young horse. but as the train whirls by, the horse runs off and scampers round and round the field. edgar watched him as long as he could see, and then he said: "what a lovely horse, mother! how i should like to ride him!" "the horse is of no use for riding yet, edgar," said his mother. "why?" asked edgar. "because he has not yet learnt to obey a rider," replied she; "the horse has to wear bit and bridle before he can be of use, and to learn by them to be controlled. a horse that could not be managed would run away with you, just as poor henry's temper ran away with him (story lesson )." bad tempers and bad habits are like wild horses: they take us where they will, and get us into sad trouble if we do not bridle them, so we must take care =not= to let the temper be master, but bridle it just as the horse-trainer bridles the horse. "i should think the horse does not like the bit and bridle at first," said edgar. "very likely not," replied his mother; "but he would not be the useful, patient animal that he is if he did not submit." (blackboard.) horse has to be held in by bit and bridle. we must bridle temper and bad habit. xxxi. selfishness. . the child on the coach. it was summer, and we were riding on the top of the coach through one of the loveliest parts of scotland. the coach had five seats with four persons on each, so you may easily find out how many people there were. on the next seat to ours sat a lady with a little spoilt boy, about four years of age, who was very hard to please, and very discontented and unhappy. you will not be much surprised to hear that presently he began to cry, for spoilt children often do that, but i do not think you could ever guess the =reason=. his mother was speaking to a lady on the seat behind, and when the child was asked, "what is the matter?" he said, "mamma is not attending to me when i speak to her," and =that= was why he cried. he wanted his mother to attend to =him=, to speak to him all the time, and that was selfish. he was only a very little child, but he thought too much of that ugly word--=self=, and that was why he was so discontented and unhappy. i knew another little child who was always wanting some one to play with her; she never tried to amuse herself, but was continually teasing her mother to join in her games. it is better to be like little elsie (story lesson ) who when only a year old thought of the comfort of others. . edna and the cherries. one day a lady called at a cottage where there lived a little girl, named edna, who was playing on the hearth-rug with another little girl, lizzie. the lady had come to see edna's grandmamma, but she had not forgotten that edna lived there, and she brought out of her basket a little paper bag full of ripe cherries, and gave them to the child. edna did not forget to say "thank you," then she took the little bag, put it on a chair, and peeped inside; she was only two years old, and could not have reached the table. as soon as she saw the pretty, red cherries, she toddled to her little friend, and holding out the bag, said, "lizzie some". when lizzie had taken a handful, she went to her grandmother, and said, "grandmamma some," and then with a shy, little glance at the lady, she placed the bag in her lap, and said, "lady some". last of all she helped her dear little self, and so we say that edna was =un=selfish, that means =not= selfish. baby edna did not know about the temple we all have to make, but she was building it just the same. perhaps "selfless" and "thoughtful" were helping her to find the stones! (blackboard.) think first of others, last of self. . the boy who liked always to win. we all like to win when we play games, and that is quite right, but johnny liked =so much= to win that he was cross and unhappy if any one else was winning, and did not enjoy the game at all; i am afraid that he even cheated sometimes to win. now all that was downright selfish; it reminds one of a story--a sort of fairy-tale--about minerva and arachne. arachne said to minerva, "let us see who can spin the best". so they began to spin, and when minerva saw that arachne was beating her at the spinning, she struck her on the head with a spindle, and turned poor arachne into a spider. it is a pity when people are so anxious to win that it makes them selfish. selfishness is an ugly stone to have in your temple, dear children. just as thoughtfulness is one of the most beautiful stones, so selfishness is one of the ugliest. try not to let it come into your lives at all. no one likes a selfish child, but everybody loves the child who =forgets= self and thinks of others. (blackboard.) try to be glad when others win, as well as when you win yourself. . the two boxes of chocolate. it was christmas time, and on christmas eve the children hung up their stockings as usual. next morning they were awake early, and eagerly turned out the stockings to see what they contained. among other things horace and stanley found that they each had a beautiful large picture-box full of lovely chocolate creams. after dinner on christmas day stanley brought out his box, and handed it round to everybody, and by the next day his chocolates were all finished. but horace hid his box away in a drawer, and kept going to it, and taking out a few at a time, so his chocolates lasted much longer than stanley's, and he ate them all himself, but we are obliged to say that he was rather selfish. "shared joy is double joy," and of the two boys we are sure that stanley would be the happier. shall i tell you a little secret? selfishness will spoil the =other= stones if you let it come into your temple, and as to the =gold=--the lovely gold of "kindness" that the little "gold-wings" brought--selfishness will =eat it all away= in time. i am sure we all hate selfishness; let us write down (blackboard.) we will not have the ugly stone "selfishness" in our temple. . eva.[ ] eva was not a very big girl, and her boots were generally cleaned by the older ones, but one day her mother said, "eva, i wish you would brush your own boots this morning, we are all so busy". "oh mother!" said eva, "you know it gives me a headache to brush boots, and i shall make my hands so dirty, and perhaps bespatter the floor with blacking as well." i am afraid eva was rather a spoilt little girl, and this had made her somewhat selfish. half an hour later her mother came into the room again, just as eva was lacing up her boots, and she inquired who had made them so bright and shiny. it was eva's elder sister, mary, and eva knew that her mother was not pleased, but nothing more was said. in the afternoon mary and her mother went out shopping, and eva hurried home from school, although she would have liked very much to stay for a while and play with the other girls. but she wanted to give mother a surprise. first she put the kettle on the fire, and then she laid the table all neatly and nicely, ready for tea. when everything was in its place, she went to the door several times to look for her mother and sister; at last she saw they were just turning the corner of the street, and eva ran along to meet them, and said, "come away, mother, tea is quite ready; i have been looking for you and mary ever so long". and dear mother knew what it all meant. it meant that eva had been listening to the good voice, and that she was sorry she had been so selfish in the morning. the good voice says (blackboard) don't be selfish. help all you can. footnote: [ ] see no. _new recitations for infants_, p. . xxxii. carelessness. . the misfortunes of elinor. elinor was a great anxiety to her mother, for she was always either tearing her clothes, or forgetting, or losing something--all because she was so careless. one day at tea elinor was taking the cup which her mother had just filled, but as she was not looking at it, nor taking any care, it tilted over and fell against a tall flower-vase that stood in the centre of the table. the vase was broken, and the tablecloth deluged with tea and water--all for want of a little care. another day elinor's mother gave her a shilling, and sent her to the shop for some fruit, but she lost the money, and returned empty-handed. coming home from school one day, she was poking her umbrella about in a little stream of water that the rain had made along the side of the road, when the tip of the stick caught in a grate and broke off, so the umbrella was spoilt. i could tell you many more things about poor careless elinor, but these are enough to show how bad it is not to take care. sometimes people have taken poison instead of medicine by being careless, and not noticing the label on the bottle; and sometimes a train has been wrecked, and lives lost, because the engine-driver was careless about noticing the signal. (blackboard.) do not be careless; it brings trouble. xxxiii. on being obstinate. . how daisy's holiday was spoilt. daisy's aunt had invited her to go and spend the day with her cousin violet, and to daisy, who lived in the town, it was a very great treat; for violet's father and mother lived at a farm, and when daisy went there, the two little girls spent the whole day out in the open air, climbing on the hay, playing "hide and seek" in the barn, or helping to milk the cows. the last time daisy went to the farm, however, she had taken cold, and her mother found that she had been playing without coat and hat, so on this occasion she said, "daisy, i want you to promise me that you will keep your outdoor things on when you are playing with violet, for the day is cold". daisy did not answer, and when her mother again asked her, she would not promise. the omnibus which was to take daisy to the farm would pass at nine o'clock, and the time was drawing near, but still daisy was self-willed and would not give in. (oh, daisy! that is =not= the good voice you are listening to, you will be sorry afterwards.) the omnibus came rumbling down the street, and daisy sprang up ready to go. "do you promise, daisy?" asked her mother; "i cannot let you go unless you do;" but daisy was still obstinate, and the omnibus went quickly past. a minute after she burst into tears, and cried, "i =will= promise, mother," but by this time the omnibus was too far on its way, and there was not another until two o'clock. at this time daisy was allowed to go, but what a pity that she should lose half a day's pleasure, and disappoint her cousin, as well as grieving her dear mother, all for the sake of wanting her own way. you remember what we said about mother knowing best in "obedience" (story lesson ). when we are obstinate, we want to please =ourselves= instead of some one else, so you can see that (blackboard) it is selfish to be obstinate; better give in; mother knows best. xxxiv. greediness. . stephen and the buns. it was breaking-up day at school, and the children were having buns and tea. each child had brought a clean pocket-handkerchief, and spread it on the desk for a tablecloth. then the teacher gave out the buns; nice large buns they were, with sugar on the top, and there were just a few left over, after one had been given to each child. next a cup of tea was placed on each desk, and the tea-party went on merrily. but why does stephen take such large bites, and fill his mouth so full? and why is he eating so quickly? see, his bun is finished now, and he is asking for another! "oh! stephie, naughty boy, you have gobbled up your bun as fast as you could, because you were afraid the buns left over would be used up before you asked for more. that was =greedy=." do not be greedy, boys and girls. never mind how hungry you are; eat slowly and nicely, and pass things to others. it is so selfish to think only of your =own= wants, and not to care how other people are getting on. "greediness" is an ugly word, and no one likes to see greedy children. (blackboard.) it is rude and vulgar to be greedy. xxxv. boasting. . the stag and his horns. have you ever seen a stag with its graceful, branching horns? there is a fable told of a stag who went to a pool to drink, and seeing himself reflected in the water, he said: "dear me, how beautiful are my horns; what a nice, graceful appearance they give to me! my legs are quite slender, and not at all beautiful, but my horns are handsome." when the hunters came, however, the stag found that his slender legs were very useful, for by means of them he could run away from his enemies, and if it had not been that his horns caught in the branches of a tree and held him fast, he might have escaped. you see how foolish it was of the stag to =boast= about his fine horns; and we are just as foolish when =we= boast of anything that we have, or of anything we can do. boasting often leads to untruth, as in (story lesson ) "the three feathers". it is always vulgar to pretend that we are better than our neighbours, and people who boast generally try to make one believe that they =are= cleverer or richer or better than somebody else. let us be like the modest violet, who hides her beauty, rather than be boastful and foolish, as the stag was. (blackboard.) it is foolish and vulgar to boast. xxxvi. wastefulness. . the little girl who was lost. a little girl wandered away from home one morning and got lost in a wood. she tried in vain to find the way home again, but she could not, and then she sat down and cried, for she was so tired, and oh! =so= hungry. she thought of the many crusts of bread and pieces of meat that she had often left on her plate at home, and how glad she would have been to eat them now. it was evening when her friends found her, and took her safely home; we will hope that she remembered that hungry day in the woods, and did not waste any more pieces of bread afterwards. if you think of the many poor people who have scarcely enough to eat, you will see how wrong it is to waste anything. when we have more than we need, let us give it to those who have not enough, and never forget that (blackboard) it is wrong to waste. xxxvii. laziness. . the sluggard. you will hear of a great king (in story lesson ) who had a throne of ivory overlaid with gold. when you are old enough to read the words he wrote (proverbs) you will find that he always kept his eyes wide open and noticed things. as the king was taking a walk one day, he passed by a vineyard, which is another name for a grape-garden, and he noticed that the wall was broken down. he looked farther, and saw that the vines were all trailing on the ground, instead of being tied up, and worse still, they were all grown over with nettles and thorns--the beautiful grape vines that give such rich, delicious fruit. "how is this?" thought the king, and he began to consider. "ah!" said he, "this vineyard belongs to the man who likes 'a little sleep,' 'a little slumber,' and who would rather fold his hands and go to sleep again than use them to work in his garden. and what will be the end of it all? he will soon be poor, and have nothing to eat, while his lovely grapes which would have sold for money if he had looked after them, lie there buried and spoilt by the nettles and thorns." it is quite right to sleep through the dark night, but this man slept in the daytime as well, instead of weeding his garden, and tying up the grapes, so we say he was a sluggard. what an ugly word it is! would =you= like to be a sluggard? no, indeed you would not. then remember this:-- (blackboard) never be lazy. xxxviii. on being ashamed. . the elephant that stole the cakes.[ ] far away in a country called india there are many elephants, which are used for hunting, and also for carrying burdens. one evening a driver brought his elephant home, and chained him to a tree; then he went a short distance away, and made an oven to bake his cakes for supper. you will wonder how this was done. first he dug a hole in the ground, in which to place his fuel, and when he had set the fuel alight, he covered it with a flat stone or plate of iron, and on this he put his rice cakes to bake. he then covered them up with grass and stones and went away. the elephant had been watching all this, and when the man was gone, he unfastened the chain which was round his leg with his trunk, went to the oven, uncovered the cakes, and took them off with his trunk and ate them. (perhaps he waited a little while until they cooled, for the elephant does not like his food hot.) then he put back the grass as before, and returned to the tree. he could not manage to fasten the chain round his leg again, so he just twisted it round as well as he could, and stood with his back to the oven as if nothing had happened. by-and-by the driver returned, and went to see if his cakes were ready. they were all gone, and the elephant was peeping over his shoulder to see what would happen next. the driver knew by his guilty look that =he= was the thief; the elephant knew he had done wrong and was ashamed. let us not do anything that we need be ashamed of. we know what is right better than the elephant, because we can think better. (blackboard.) do nothing that you need be ashamed of. footnote: [ ] romanes' _animal intelligence_. xxxix. ears and no ears. . heedless albert. "listen, boys," said the teacher, "i am going to tell you about a land across the sea, not much more than twenty miles from england--the sunny land of france." so he went on to tell them of the vines loaded with grapes, from which wine is made; of the apples growing by the roadside, and of the french people, how gay and merry they are, and how neatly the poor people dress. many more interesting things he told them, and then he said: "now, take your papers, and write down all that you can remember about france". the boys set to work, and soon all were very busy, except one--a boy named albert, who could not think of anything to write, and who, when the papers were collected had not managed to pen a single line. how was this, do you think? it was simply because he had =not attended= to the teacher when he was speaking, and so he could not remember anything that had been told him. one day, when albert was about ten years old, his mother sent him to a farm for some eggs. he had not been to the farm before, but his mother told him exactly which way to go, and if he had listened he could have found it easily. in about an hour albert came back, swinging the empty basket. he had not been able to find the farm. why? because he did not =attend= when his mother was telling him the way. you will readily see that a child who does not attend cannot learn much, and will never be bright and clever, nor of much use in helping others. (blackboard.) do not be heedless; listen and attend. . olive and gertie. olive and gertie were walking along a country road, and high up in the sky a lark poured forth his sweet song. "how beautifully that skylark sings," said olive; "it is worth while to come out into the country just to hear it." "i did not hear it," said gertie, swinging her parasol. "it is there, right overhead," exclaimed olive; "do look, gertie; it will drop like a stone when it gets nearer the ground." "oh! i cannot trouble to look up," replied gertie, "it makes my neck ache." by-and-by they passed a field of oats, nearly ripe, and as the wind swayed them to and fro, they made a pleasant rustling sound. "how nice it is to hear the corn as it rustles in the wind," said olive, "and listen, gertie, is not this a pretty tinkling sound?" olive had plucked one of the ears of oats, and was shaking its little bells close to her friend's ear. "it is nothing," said gertie. "to me it is lovely," replied olive, "and the tinkle of the harebells is just as sweet." then a bee went buzzing by, and olive liked to hear its drowsy hum, but gertie did not notice it. presently they were on the edge of the cliffs, and could hear the splash of the waves as they rolled in and broke on the beach. "surely you like to hear 'the song of the sea,'" said olive, but gertie made no reply--she was thinking of something else. do not be like gertie, who seemed as if she had "no ears," but, like olive, keep your ears open to all the sweet and pleasant sounds. the fire makes a pleasant sound as it burns and crackles in the grate, and who does not like to hear the "singing" of the kettle on the hob? how musical is the flow of the stream, and do you not love to hear the splash of the oars as they dip in the river? or the sound made by the bow of the boat as it cuts through the water? some people like to hear the "thud" of a great steamer as it ploughs its way through the sea, and everybody loves the sound of the wind as it whispers in the trees. the sounds that we hear in the fields and woods are called "voices of nature," let us listen to them, for they speak to us of god's love. (blackboard.) listen to the voices of nature; they speak of god's love. (let the children enumerate some of the pleasant "sounds" mentioned, and the teacher might then write them on the blackboard.) xl. eyes and no eyes. . the two brothers. have you ever heard of the "black country"? it is a part of england where there are many furnaces and iron-works, and a great deal of smoke; that is why it is called by this name. two boys, named francis and algie, lived in this district, for their father was an iron-worker, and one evening they went out for a long walk. they were away two or three hours, and when they returned their mother said: "well, boys, what did you see in your walk?" "nothing, mother," replied algie, "there is nothing pretty to be seen; it is all black and ugly." "ah!" said francis, "but there was the =sky=, and that was beautiful, for we were walking towards the sunset, and the colours were changing all the time. first the sky seemed to be all over gold, and then as the sun went down it changed to red; next when i looked there were shades of a lovely green or blue, which soon changed to dark red; it was the loveliest sunset i have ever seen." how strange it was that, although both boys had eyes, only one of them saw anything worth seeing! francis was the boy with "eyes," while algie was as though he had "no eyes". keep your eyes open, children, and try to see all that is beautiful. it is such a pity when people grow up and walk about without seeing anything. there is always something to see in the sky. sometimes it is all a lovely blue, with white, fleecy clouds floating across it, or piled up in curly masses; and at night it is of a deeper blue, and the stars come peeping out, reminding us in their beauty of goodness and god:-- thou who hast sown the sky with stars-- setting thy thoughts in gold. and the silver moon, which is always changing its shape, how lovely that is! do not forget to look for the beauty of the sky. . ruby and the wall. little ruby was not two years old, but she always noticed things, and tried to find out their names. one day when she was walking out with her auntie they passed a stone wall. ruby looked at it, and then glancing up said, "wall". "yes," said auntie. "what is the wall made of?" "coal," answered ruby quite seriously. (i suppose the blocks of stone reminded her of the same shape in the coals.) "no, it is not coal," said auntie. ruby was puzzled, and thought for a little, then she said, "wash it". you see she had never heard the word "stone," and as her little hands, when dirty, became lighter coloured with =washing=, she thought that stone must be "washed" coal. it was wrong, of course, but it shows you that tiny ruby used her eyes, and =thought= about things. (blackboard.) two kinds of eyes:-- . eyes that see--francis, ruby. . eyes that do not see--algie. xli. love of the beautiful.[ ] . the daisy. you have often gathered buttercups and daisies, but have you ever gazed into the daisy's yellow eye, and thought how wonderful it was? you will find that it is made up of many tiny flowerets, all packed closely together. and the fringe of white petals, tipped with pink, how beautiful =they= are! and so dainty that we might almost think they had been painted by the pencil of a fairy! and have you noticed the strong, green cup which closes round the petals at night, and keeps them all safe? you have held the pretty buttercup under your chin to make it look yellow, but have you ever looked carefully at the shining petals of gold? how smooth, and clear, and glossy they are! there was once a great, wise king, who was so rich that he had plates and cups of gold instead of china. he made a beautiful throne of ivory, with six lions on the one side and six on the other, and the throne was all overlaid with gold; how bright and glittering it would be! and then picture the king himself in his robes of state, seated on his gilded throne, how dazzling and beautiful it would all look! and yet the greatest teacher who ever lived--he who took the little children in his arms--said that the great king solomon, with his throne of ivory and gold, "in all his glory" was not so beautiful as the lily growing in the field. so you see the best of all beauty is close beside us, at our feet indeed, if we only have eyes to see it. dear little modest daisy, i love your yellow eye, i love the pink-tipped petals that round the centre lie; i love the pretty buttercup of lovely, shining gold; i love it, for it speaks to me, of wondrous love untold. you have heard of other beautiful sights and sounds in the story lessons that have gone before ( , ), and in the story lesson which follows you will learn =why= it is good to love all these beautiful things. footnote: [ ] the guessing rhymes, nos. to , headed "natural phenomena," in _games without music_, would follow this story lesson appropriately. xlii. on destroying things. . beauty and goodness. why do we hang pictures on the walls, and put plants in the windows? because we want to make the room look pretty. why do we love the flowers and the trees, the bright green fields and the waving yellow corn? why are we so glad to be near the sea, with its glorious, rolling waves, and to bask in the warm, bright rays of the sun? because they are =all= beautiful, and when we love what is beautiful it helps us to love what is good; and when we love =goodness= we love god, who gave us all this beauty. now you will see why it is so wicked to =destroy= beautiful things. when a boy carves his name on a tree, or breaks off its graceful branches, he =destroys= that which is good, instead of loving it; and how can he grow up gentle and true if he does not love beauty and goodness? sometimes people put iron railings round their gardens, and you will have noticed that they are often finished off with a pointed pattern at the top, to make them look pretty. when a boy comes along and knocks off the points, he makes the railings look =ugly= instead of pretty. he would never think of destroying the pictures that hang on the walls of his home, or of throwing the plants away that stand in the window, yet he destroys things that are =not his=, and that other people have put there to make their houses look nice. i am sure you will say this is not right; it is =downright wrong=, just as wrong as it would be for me to go and break that boy's slate, or to snap his wickets in two when he is wanting a game of cricket, and it is all for want of =thinking=. it is quite dreadful to know that so many cruel, unkind things are done, just because boys and girls do not trouble to =think=! but i hope that =you=, dear children, =will think=, and keep your little hands from spoiling anything. (blackboard.) it is wrong to spoil and destroy. xliii. on turning back when wrong. . the lost path. a boy named eric was coming home from school. there were two ways that he could take--one was a path through the fields, and the other was a winding road. it was winter time, and there was snow on the ground. eric chose the field path, for it was the shorter of the two, but he had not gone far when it began to snow very fast. the snow-flakes were so large, and fell so quickly, that there was very soon quite a thick carpet on the ground, and before long eric found that he could not see the path, and he scarcely knew where he was. if he had only turned round just then, he could have seen his own footprints in the snow, and following them, would have got back to the road safely, but he did not want to do this, so he went on and on until he was lost entirely, and had not the least idea as to which was the way home. then he determined to turn back, and try to reach the road, but where are his footprints? all covered up with snow. eric felt ready to cry, but he struggled on as long as he could, and then a great drowsiness came over him, and he fell down in the snow. it is just like that with wrong-doing, if we do not turn back at once, it becomes more and more difficult to find the path, and sometimes the wrong-doer loses it altogether. when eric did not come home from school his parents became very anxious, and his father accompanied by the dog went out to seek him. first he took the way by the road, then he came over the field-path, and the dog ran sniffing about in the snow, until he came to what looked like a white mound, and there was eric half-buried in the snow. you can imagine how pleased the father was when he had his boy safe in his arms, and how gladly he carried him home, for if eric had not been found quickly, he must have died. remember eric in the snow, and (blackboard.) when you have gone wrong, turn back at once. xliv. one bad "stone" may spoil the "temple". . intemperance. from all these story lessons you will see that there are a great many "stones" for the building of "character". but there is another thought, which is this: a =bad= "stone," =one= bad "stone" may spoil =all= the rest. you remember we said (story lesson ) that selfishness could spoil a character. and there is another fault--i think we ought to call it a sin--that spoils the character of many an up-grown person. i mean the sin of intemperance. you know what that is, do you not? when we say that people are intemperate, we generally mean that they take too much beer or wine, and i have known most beautiful characters spoilt by that bad "stone". when a man has lovely "stones" like kindness, unselfishness and truth in his temple, is it not a pity that these should be all eaten away by the dreadful sin of intemperance? even truth, the foundation, decays, and often the lovely temple of character tumbles all to ruins. what should you think is the best thing for children to do? is it not this? never =take= any of these things that =cause= intemperance, and then you will never be fond of them, and they will never get the mastery of you and spoil your character. (blackboard.) it is better not to take things that cause intemperance. .--manners. xlv. preliminary. (to be read first.) . the watch and its springs. you have heard the ticking of your father's watch, and have seen the hands on its face, but did you ever get a peep inside at the wonderful tiny wheels and springs? these are called the =works=, and if =they= are not right and true the hands and the face are of no use at all, because it is only when the =wheels= and =springs= work properly that the hands can tell the time correctly. it is just the same with us. if the =character= is true and good, it will not be difficult to be polite and nice in manner, for manners are the =outside= part of us (just as the hands and face are the outside parts of the watch). the kind, good thoughts =within=--in our hearts--will teach us how to behave. there is nothing that makes people so rude as thinking of self and forgetting the comfort of others; some call it "thoughtlessness," but we fear the true name is "selfishness". if we are =un=selfish and thoughtful for others, we shall not be likely to do anything that =hurts= people, and so we shall not be likely to be rude. in the story lessons on "manners" which follow, just see if you can find out what it is that causes each rude action. you will probably say that it is "=want of thought=" for others. (the writer would ask the teacher, or mother, who reads the following story lessons to the little ones to emphasise this fact in each--that =thought for others= induces nice manners, while "thoughtlessness" and "selfishness" invariably lead to rudeness. spoilt children, and those whose mothers are in the habit of doing everything for them, =miss= the training in "thoughtfulness for others" which is so essential to the building up of an unselfish character; and so the mother's intended kindness is in reality =not= kindness, seeing that it causes distinct loss to the child, _viz._, =loss= of those traits of character which are the most desirable, and which tend to the greatest happiness.) xlvi. on saying "please" and "thank you".[ ] . fairy tale of alec and his toys. alec was a merry little fellow, full of life and fun, and a great favourite with his aunties and uncles, who often gave him nice presents. the strange thing about alec was that he always forgot to say "thank you". no matter how beautiful the present, he would just take it and play with it, and return no thanks to the kind giver, until his mother reminded him how rude it was not to say "thank you". alec was not like little vernon (story lesson ), who was brimming over with thanks. one night as alec's mother was putting him to bed, she said: "alec, i have been reading some verses about a little girl who would not say 'please'. she would cry 'pass me the butter,' 'give me some cheese'. so the fairies, 'this very rude maiden to tease,' carried her down into the woods, among the butterflies and birds and bees, until she should have learnt better manners." alec listened with wide-open eyes fixed on his mother's face, but when she said, "i wonder what the fairies would do with a little boy who always forgets to say 'thank you,'" his eyes dropped, and he was very quiet while his mother was tucking him in his little cot. when she had gone alec thought to himself, "suppose the fairies should come and take all my toys away," then he fell asleep, and this is what happened. the fairies =did= come, and alec saw them. such funny little fellows they were, dressed in red, with funny little wings stuck out behind, and the funniest of little peaked caps on their heads. alec began to wonder about his toys, and sure enough they had come to fetch them. first they picked up a beautiful, long railway train, which was a present from aunt sophie. it took them all to lift it, there were so many carriages. (why do they not draw it along? thought alec.) up on their shoulders it went. would the peaked caps fall off? no, they were all tilted sideways, and the train was borne safely out. soon the funny little fairies came dancing in again, laughing and rubbing their hands as they looked all about. surely they were not going to take the noah's ark! =that= was uncle jack's present, and the animals were such beauties! but that did not matter to the fairies. slowly the ark was lifted on their shoulders; six fairies were on one side and six on the other; again the peaked caps were tilted sideways, and solemnly they all marched out. next time they pulled out a wooden horse, papa's gift, and alec saw that the fairies all jumped on its back, and then a funny thing happened--the horse walked out of its own accord. again and again they came in and bore away one precious toy after another, until there was nothing left but grandpapa's gift--the tricycle. surely they will leave that! alec never knew until now how much he loved his toys; but here they are again, and, yes! they are actually bringing out the tricycle. one sits on the saddle, one on each pedal, and all the rest on the handle-bar. now the pedals go round, and, strange to say, the funny little men do not fall off. the tricycle seems to go of itself, as the horse did. and now, oh dear! =everything= is gone, and alec thinks he is worse off than the little girl who was carried away by the fairies. morning comes! alec wakes and rubs his eyes; what has happened? oh! the toys! quick as thought he is out of bed, and off to the playroom in his night-dress. where are the toys? all there, just as he left them last night. "it was only a dream, then," said alec; "how glad i am that it is not true, but all the same i =will= remember to say 'thank you' in future," and he did. (blackboard.) always remember to say "please" and "thank you," not in a whisper, but loudly enough to be heard. footnote: [ ] nos. , and in _games without music_ are games that might be used in connection with above story lesson. xlvii. on being respectful. . if you should see the sailors on board ship when they are receiving orders from the captain, you will notice how polite and respectful they are. they never forget to say "yes, sir," or "no, sir," when he speaks to them. perhaps the captain was once a little cabin-boy himself, and he, in his turn, had to learn to be respectful to his captain. but it is not only on board ship that it is necessary to be respectful; children should always remember to say "sir" or "ma'am" when speaking to a gentleman or lady, wherever they may be. in france the word "madam" is used when addressing a lady, but in our country the "d" is mostly left out, and we say only "ma'am". (show the two words, "madam" and "ma'am" on blackboard.) no one thinks a boy or girl well-behaved who answers "yes," or "no"; it is blunt and rude. you can always say "sir" and "ma'am," even if you do not know the name of the person to whom you are speaking, and in answering your father or mother you should always say "yes, father," or "no, mother," as the case may be. (blackboard.) to answer "yes," "no"--it is blunt, and is rude, but "yes, sir" or "no, ma'am" are both right and good; "yes, father," "no, mother," polite children say, and these are good rules to remember each day. xlviii. putting feet up. . alice and the pink frock. you have often heard grown-up people say to little children, "behave nicely," or "mind your manners"; i wonder if you know just what they mean. there is a little word that describes people who have =not= nice manners--we say they are =rude=. try to find out who was rude in this story. one bright day in april little alice was dressed all ready for a birthday party. she had on a pretty, new pink frock, of which she was very proud, and over this she wore a cloak, but the cloak was not quite long enough to cover =all= the pretty dress, for which alice was not sorry. she was all the more pleased about the party because she had to go by train. it was only three miles, but alice thought that was quite a long journey for a little girl of ten to take all by herself. her mother brought her to the station, and when the train came up, alice jumped in and sat near the window, opposite to a tall, nicely-dressed boy. now before alice came into the carriage, what do you think the boy had been doing? he had been sitting with his feet up on the cushions opposite, and his boots were very muddy. can you guess the rest? poor alice sat down on the muddy patches left by the boy's dirty, wet boots, and her pretty pink frock was spoilt. can you tell who was rude in this story? "the boy was rude." what did he do that was rude? "he put his feet up." then we will say, "it is rude to put our feet up". the proper place for feet is the floor. what effect did the boy's rudeness have on alice? (or to younger children): how did the boy's rudeness make alice feel? it made her unhappy. then i think we might say that manners are =rude= when they make other people =uncomfortable= or =unhappy=. write on blackboard and let the children repeat the following:-- what is it to be rude? if in our work or in our play we take our friend's comfort away, and make him sad instead of gay, why that is to be rude. xlix. banging doors. . how maurice came home from school. how is it that boys and girls so often forget to close the door quietly? when maurice went out to school in the afternoon he knew that his mother had a headache, but by the time he came home he had forgotten all about it, and so he stamped in with his muddy shoes unwiped, leaving the front door wide open. his mother said, "close the door, maurice," and he gave it a great bang, which made her shudder. next he walked into the room, flung his bag on a chair, his cap on the floor, and his overcoat on the sofa. then he said in a loud voice, "well, mother, how's your head?" his poor mother felt almost too sad to answer him; she had so often told her little boy about hanging up his coat and other things, and had tried so hard to teach him to be gentle and polite, instead of rough and rude; but you see maurice was =thoughtless=, and did not remember the nice things he had been taught. take care, maurice! or you will have the ugly stone of "selfishness" in your temple. a boy who is not kind to his mother is the worst kind of boy, and will find it difficult to grow up into a good and noble man. . lulu and the glass door. when lulu was a little girl, she lived with her auntie and uncle. the front door of their house was made half of glass, and there was a shutter which covered the glass part of the door at night. lulu's auntie told her that when it was windy weather she must go round to the =back= door, lest the front door should get a bang, and some of the panes of glass be broken. i am afraid lulu did not always remember to obey her auntie, for one very windy morning she came home from school, and went as usual to the front door. she managed to open it and to get inside safely, then the door closed with a loud bang, for the wind was very strong, and it happened just as auntie had feared--a large pane of glass fell out of the door, and was shivered into a thousand pieces. auntie was very angry, and lulu was so unhappy, and cried so much that she could not eat her dinner. when her uncle came home and heard the story, and knew how sorry lulu was, he said: "oh, well, dry your tears, we will call and ask old james to come and mend the door, and my little girl must do what auntie tells her next time". so lulu trotted back to afternoon school, holding to the hand of her kind uncle, and they called to tell james to put a new pane of glass into the door. but lulu has not forgotten her disobedience, and the banging of auntie's door, although it is now more than forty years ago. (blackboard.) close doors softly. l. pushing in front of people. . the big boy and the little lady. the queen was in london, and as the time drew near when she was expected to drive through the park, many people stood on the sidewalk to see her carriage pass. a little lady who was walking through the park thought she would stand with the others to see her majesty, and as she was too short to look over the heads of the people, she found a place at the edge of the crowd near the roadway. by-and-by they heard a cheer in the distance, and knew that the queen's carriage had come out of the palace gates. at that very moment some one came pushing through the people, and before the little lady had time to speak, a great big boy brushed rudely past, and stood in front of her. the lady touched him on the arm, and he turned round, and saw that it was a friend of his mother's whom he had been treating so rudely. he raised his cap at once, and, blushing with shame, begged the lady's pardon, and took a place behind her. but if the lady had been a perfect stranger, it would have been equally wrong for the boy to act like that. it is always rude to push, whether we are entering a tramcar, a railway train, or going to some place of amusement; let us remember this:-- (blackboard) it is rude to push in front of people. li. keeping to the right.[ ] . when you have been walking down the street, has it ever happened that you could scarcely move for the people who are blocking up the causeway? that is because they do not keep to the right. in london, where the streets are so busy, it would be impossible to get along if people did not keep to the right. what accidents we should have in the streets if the drivers did not remember to keep to their proper side of the road, which is the left! and how often the ships at sea would go bumping against each other if they did not remember always to keep to the right in passing those that are coming in an opposite direction! if you are ever puzzled as to how you should pass people in the street (blackboard) keep to the right. footnote: [ ] no. , in _games without music_ illustrates above. lii. clumsy people. . i wonder if you know any boys and girls who are clumsy. i am always a little sorry for clumsy people; they seem to be so often in trouble. if the clumsy boy is allowed to collect the slates, he is sure to send some of them sliding on to the floor with a noise like thunder; or if he gathers the books in a pile it is sure to topple over, and the books are scattered in every direction. the clumsy people tread on our toes, step on a lady's dress and tear it maybe, or bump against baby's cot in passing and wake the little sleeper. do you think we could find out the secret of being clumsy? is not it for want of taking =care=? you remember elinor, in story lesson , how she upset her tea, broke the vase, and spoilt the tablecloth, all for want of =care=? it is the same with clumsy people--they forget to take care? the books and slates are not piled =carefully=, that is why they tumble; they bulge out here and go in there, instead of being smooth and straight on every side. if you do not want to be clumsy (blackboard) take pains, and be careful in all you do. liii. turning round when walking. . the girl and her eggs. have you ever seen a girl walking along the street with her head turned backwards, trying to look behind her as she goes? of course she does not walk straight, for she is not looking where she is going. it would be better if she =did= either look where she is going or turn quite round, and go where she is looking. a girl was coming along the street one day with a paper bag full of eggs, looking behind her all the time. a lady, who was walking in the opposite direction, tried to get out of her way, but as we said before, the girl could not walk straight when her eyes were turned backward, and as the lady stepped to one side to avoid her, the girl in her zigzag walk came to the same side and bumped up against the lady. crash! went the eggs, and a yellow stream ran down the pretty blue dress worn by the lady. what would the girl's mother say when her eggs were all wasted? this is a true story, and you will agree that the girl was very silly to walk along with her head turned round. you see we have no eyes behind our head, nor even at the side; they are at the front, so (blackboard) look where you are going. liv. on staring. . ruth and the window. there was once a girl named ruth, who was in many respects very well-behaved indeed. for instance, you would never hear her reply to her mother without saying "yes, mother," or "no, mother," and she never banged the door or came into a room noisily, but she had =one= fault that was really very bad. as ruth went on her way to school each day, she passed a house that had its dining-room window facing the street. the window was rather low, and every time that ruth went by she would walk slowly, and stare into the room all the time. if the people were at dinner it made no difference--she still gazed in. you will think this exceedingly rude, as indeed it was, but it is quite true nevertheless. one day a lady came to the school that ruth attended; she was driven there in her carriage, and remained talking to the teacher after the children had been dismissed. presently she said, "good afternoon," and left, and the teacher, happening to glance out of the window, was vexed to see that a number of the scholars had gathered round the carriage, and were staring in, and staring at the lady as she took her seat. next day the children were told how rude this was, and we hope that ruth learnt at the same time how rude it is to stare into people's houses. another day some japanese ladies came to the school to see the children drill; they were dressed so differently from english people, and looked so funny with their little slanting eyes, and their shiny, black hair dressed high, with no bonnet to cover it, that the children were tempted to stare again, but the teacher had told them that it would be rude to stare at the ladies. "you may glance at them," said she, "but do not keep your eyes fixed on them." it is natural to wish to look at curious things, but we can be careful to take our eyes away when we have glanced, so that we do not stare, and make the person uncomfortable, for you remember we said that anything was rude which caused people to be uncomfortable (p. ). there was a little boy in church who had just the same rude habit as ruth. he would sit or stand at the end of the pew, and turn his head round to see what was passing behind. he did not take just a little glance, and then turn his eyes back again--even that would have been rude--but he kept his gaze fixed behind for ever so long. do you know =why= we do not look about in church? it is because we go there to worship the great god, to hear of him, and think about him, and we cannot do this if we are looking about, and thinking of other things. why do we close our eyes when we pray? it is so that we may think of what we are saying; if we kept them open, we should be thinking of what we were =seeing= instead, should we not? (blackboard.) it is rude to stare. lv. walking softly. . florence nightingale. a long time ago there was a war, and the english soldiers went out to fight. many of the poor fellows were wounded, and a kind lady, who is now quite old, went from england to nurse the brave soldiers. her name was florence nightingale, and it is a name that everybody loves. the soldiers had never been nursed by a lady before, and she was so kind and gentle, they loved her more than i can tell you--so much, indeed, that they would kiss her shadow on the pillow as she walked softly through the rooms where they lay. if you have ever been in a hospital you will know how quietly the nurses move about. why is it? because a noise would disturb the poor sufferers. but it is not nice for people who are well either to hear children stamping about as if they would send their feet through the floor. have you noticed how softly pussy moves? it is because she walks on her toes. we have to wear shoes on our feet, and cannot help making a little noise, but we must remember to step on our toes, and move as quietly as possible. (blackboard.) try always to walk softly. lvi. answering when spoken to.[ ] . the civil boy. one day a lady was passing through a country village, and not being quite sure as to which was the right road to take, she went up to some boys who were playing on the green to inquire. "can you tell me, please, which is the way to east thorpe?" asked the lady. "yes, ma'am," said one of the boys, raising his cap, "you walk straight past the church, and then take the first road to the right." the lady thanked the boy, and bade him "good-day," and as he replied "good-day, ma'am," and again raised his cap, she thought to herself, "what a civil, polite boy! he is very poorly dressed, but he has the manners of a gentleman, and how nicely he answered when i spoke to him; i must tell dorothy about it." dorothy was the lady's little niece, and had been staying with her some time. one afternoon auntie had taken dorothy with her to call at the house of a friend, and when the lady spoke kindly to the little girl, and asked her name and where she lived, dorothy only smiled and looked foolish, and did not speak or answer. her auntie was very much surprised, and perhaps felt a wee bit ashamed of her little niece that afternoon. children should never be bold and forward, but they =should= look up and answer a question fearlessly and clearly when they are asked one; it is so foolish to simper and not speak. (blackboard.) always answer when you are spoken to. footnote: [ ] nos. , and in _games without music_ might follow above. lvii. on speaking loudly. . the woman who shouted. the train had just steamed into the railway station, when a porter opened the carriage door to let a lady step in--at least she =looked= like a lady, and was dressed most elegantly. her gown was of silk, over which she wore a rich fur-lined cloak, and her bonnet was quite smart with feathers and flowers. as she drew off her gloves, you could not help noticing that her fingers were covered with glittering rings. "surely she must be going to some grand concert, or to a party," thought we. but listen to what happened next! just before the train started she suddenly opened the carriage window, and leaning out as far as ever she could, shouted in a loud, rough voice, so loudly that all the people round could hear, "heigh! you porter there, is my luggage all right?" then she closed the window and sat down, and we felt that in spite of her finery she was a rude, rough woman, for a lady is gentle, and would never speak in a loud, coarse voice that grates on those who hear it. never speak too loudly either out of doors or elsewhere; keep always a soft, sweet voice. speak gently, for a gentle voice is loved, like music sweet; coarse tones and loud are out of place at home or on the street. lviii. on speaking when others are speaking. . margery and the picnic. it was holiday time, and margery had gone to play with her little friend helena poynter, who lived in the next street but one. they were in a little summer-house at the end of the garden, having a happy time with their dolls, and helena was telling margery that her father had promised to take them all for a picnic to the hills next day. they were to drive there in a coach, papa, mamma, helena, and her brothers, who were all at home for the holidays. just then helena's mamma came walking down the garden. "good-morning, margery," said she, and margery stood up at once and returned her greeting. "i have been thinking," said mrs. poynter, "that you would like to join our picnic to-morrow, and i am sure we could find room for one more on the coach." "oh! thank you, ma'am," said margery, "i should like it so much; i will run round and ask mother at once," and off she ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. margery came into the house bubbling over with the good news, and anxious to tell it all to her mother immediately, but she found that a lady had called and was talking to her mother, so she just waited quietly until the conversation was ended before she spoke a word, for margery knew that (blackboard) it is rude to speak when other people are speaking. you will see now why we sit quietly in church, or at an entertainment, or in a room when any one is singing or playing--it is because we do not wish to be rude, and it =is= rude to speak when any one else is speaking, or praying, or reading aloud, or singing, or playing music for us. you will like to know that margery was allowed to go to the picnic, and she enjoyed it very much. lix. look at people when speaking to them. . fred and his master. in a previous story lesson, no. , we spoke of a village boy who, you remember, answered the lady politely, when she inquired her way. his name was fred, and when a gentleman came to the school that fred attended one day, and said he wanted an office-boy, the schoolmaster called fred up to the desk. the boy looked so bright and honest, and said, "yes, sir" so politely, that the gentleman thought he would do, and the next week fred began his work. sometimes he had to sit at a desk and do writing; one morning as he sat thus, the master came in to speak to him. what do you think fred did? he rose from his stool at once, turned towards his master, and stood while he was speaking. the master was giving fred instructions about his work, and as soon as he had finished, fred looked up and replied, "yes, sir, i will attend to it". we have learnt two lessons from fred, what are they? (blackboard.) . to stand up when spoken to. . to look up when speaking to any one. lx. on talking too much. . one evening a number of friends met together at a little party. first they all had tea, and after tea was over they sat round the fire to talk, for some of them had not seen each other for a long time. but there was one lady there who had so much to say that scarcely any one else could get a chance to speak. she talked and talked nearly all the evening. sometimes we =expect= one person to speak all the time, as when we go to hear a lecture, or to listen to a sermon in church, but when people meet together for conversation, it is much pleasanter to hear =more= than one speak. another time three children were having dinner with some grown-up people, and a lady who was there told me that one of the children, a little girl about eight years of age, talked continually, so that even the grown-up people had scarcely an opportunity of speaking. so you see it is quite possible for people to be made uncomfortable by a child speaking too much, as well as by a child that refuses to speak at all (dorothy in story lesson ). perhaps you have been in a railway carriage where a little boy has never ceased asking questions and talking during the whole journey. years ago children used to be told that "they must be seen and not heard". we do not often say that now, but we must remember that it is rude to take up all the conversation, or even more than our share. i believe it is more than rude--it is selfish. we must learn to listen to other people as well as to talk ourselves. (blackboard.) do not be too fond of hearing yourself talk; learn to listen as well. lxi. going in front of people. . minnie and the book. one evening minnie sat at the table preparing her lessons. her father and mother, with an aunt who had called to see them, were seated at the hearth. in a little while minnie found that she required a book from the bookcase, which stood in a recess to the left of the fireplace, so she rose from the table, and, without speaking a word, walked in =front= of her aunt and in =front= of her father to reach the book. her aunt looked up in astonishment, and her father exclaimed: "minnie, how =rude= you are!" why was minnie rude? because she did not say "excuse me, please," both to her aunt and her father. we ought =not= to go in front of any one, if we can by any means avoid it; but, if it is impossible to get behind, we must never forget to say those little words which minnie so rudely forgot. . the man and his luggage. a gentleman was travelling in a railway train, and, as there was no one else in the carriage, he placed his portmanteau and other luggage on the rack =opposite= to where he sat instead of overhead. at the next station several people entered the carriage, and, when the gentleman wanted to get out, he was obliged to reach up in front of the people sitting opposite to get his luggage. but he did not forget to say, "excuse me, please". (blackboard.) when passing in front of others, or when reaching in front, always say "excuse me, please". lxii. when to say "i beg your pardon". . i was talking to a lady one day, and not happening to hear something that i said, she exclaimed in a loud voice, "=what?=" i was as much astonished as minnie's aunt was in story lesson , and quite forgot what i had intended to say next. what should the lady have said? she should have said, "i beg your pardon". perhaps she had forgotten herself just that one time. suppose you are sitting at table next to mother, who is pouring the tea; perhaps there is no bread and butter near enough for her to reach, and you do not notice that her plate is empty. she is obliged to ask you to pass her something, and as you do so you feel sorry that you have not done it =without= being asked, and you say, "i beg your pardon, mother". some people leave out the "=i=," and say "beg your pardon," or "beg pardon," but the proper words are, "i beg your pardon". . the lady and the poor boy. a young lady was hurrying down a street, and, as she turned the corner quickly, she nearly ran against a little ragged boy, but by putting out her arms she just managed to save him from being hurt. then she rested her hands on his shoulders, and said in a sweet voice: "i beg your pardon, my boy". the boy was greatly surprised that any one should beg =his= pardon; he had not been accustomed to have people speak politely to him, but the lady knew that it is just as important to be polite to a beggar as to a fine gentleman. we should, of course, try =not= to run against people, and be careful =not= to step on a lady's dress or on any one's toes, but if by accident we =do= make any of these blunders, we must remember to say, "i beg your pardon". (blackboard.) when you do not hear what is said to you, when you forget to pass a plate, when you bump against any one, when you hurt any one in any way, do not forget to say, "i beg your pardon". lxiii. raising cap. . why is it, do you think, that a boy raises his cap? it is to show respect to the lady or gentleman whom he is passing or speaking to. that was why the boy raised his cap to the lady in story lesson , and said "yes, ma'am;" he wished to show her respect. soldiers do not raise their caps to the general or captain; they salute (that is, they raise the forefinger of right hand to forehead), but it answers the same purpose--it shows their respect. why do men and boys take off their caps and hats when they enter a church or chapel? it is to show reverence to the god of all who is worshipped there. boys should always remember to raise their caps when a lady or gentleman bows or speaks to them, and also when they enter a house or other place, such as a church or chapel. lxiv. on offering seat to lady. . a number of soldiers were one day riding in a car, indeed the car was quite full of soldiers; and at the end there was a general, that is the man who is at the head of the soldiers. presently the car stopped, and a poor old woman entered, but there was no room for her to sit, and not one of the soldiers had the good manners to offer her his seat. so the woman walked to the end of the car where the general sat, that she might stand where she would not be in any one's way, but the kind general rose instantly, and gave her his place; that was courteous and kind of him, was it not? then several of the other soldiers stood, and asked the general to be seated, but he said: "no, there was no seat for the poor woman, so there is none for me". the soldiers were very much ashamed, and soon left the car. =why= did the general offer his seat to the old woman? for the same reason that the boy raises his cap--to show respect to her. you know how father takes care of mother and lifts heavy weights for her, and how brothers take care of sisters, and so if there is not room for everybody to sit, a man or boy will rise, and let a woman have his place; and they do all this partly because they are strong and like to do kind acts, and partly because it is nice and right to be courteous to women. but a kind woman does not like always to take the seat that is offered to her. the man may be old or weak, then the woman would say, "thank you, i will stand," for she sees that the man needs the seat more than she does. and if a man had been working hard all day (never sitting down at all maybe), and he should be coming home tired at night, in the train or tramcar, one would not like to let =him= stand, and give up his place. it is nice and polite for a man to =offer= his seat, and the lady should always say, "thank you," whether she takes it or not. a very old man entered a crowded railway carriage, and a young girl who was sitting near the door stood up at once and offered the old man her place, for she knew that he was too weak to stand. so you see that sometimes it is right for a girl or woman to give up her seat; we must not let the men do =all= the kind, polite actions. lxv. on shaking hands. . reggie and the visitors. one afternoon i called with a friend to see a lady at whose house i had not been before; she was very pleased to see us, and brought her little boy, reggie, into the room where we sat. "shake hands with the ladies, reggie," said his mother; but reggie refused, and hid his face in her dress. she explained that he was shy, and went on coaxing him to come and speak to us. after a great deal of talking and persuading, he consented to come and shake hands, =if= his mother would come with him. so she brought him across the room, and held out his hand, just as you hold out the arm of your doll, when you play at shaking hands with her. would =you= make all that fuss and trouble about shaking hands with any one? i hope not. it is so silly, as well as ill-mannered. after this reggie sat down in a little chair, and tried to put his feet up on a small table that was near--but you will not care to hear about such a badly-behaved little boy. and it was not very long before his mother had to take him from the room screaming, he was so tiresome and naughty. if reggie had tried to please his mother and her visitors, instead of his little =self=, everybody would have been much happier, and i am sure =he= would, for selfish people cannot be happy. think =first= of others, =last= of self, be friendly, kindly all around; shake hands with strangers, be polite, unselfish, sweet be always found. lxvi. knocking before entering a room. . the boy who forgot. a lady was sitting in a cottage one morning talking to the person who lived there, when suddenly, and without any warning knock, or even a little tap, some one lifted the latch noisily, and pushing the door wide open, burst into the room, asking, "what time is it?" the lady looked up to see who the rude intruder could be, and beheld a little, rosy-faced boy. she called him to her, and placing her hand on his shoulder said kindly: "my little fellow, do you not know that you should =knock= at a door before entering, and should say, '=please=, will you tell me the time?'" the boy hung his head and looked ashamed, but we hope he remembered what the lady said to him, and i hope also that none of you ever forget to (blackboard) knock at the door before entering a room. lxvii. hanging hats up, etc. . careless percy. you did not admire the boy (story lesson no. ) who threw his bag here, his cap there, and his coat somewhere else, did you? neither will you be likely to admire the little boy in this story. but come with me--i will take you into the bedroom of a boy named percy, who has gone to a party. i am afraid you can scarcely get inside though, for everything he has taken off is lying on the floor. his coat is flung behind the door, his collar lies inside the fender, and his trousers are beside the bed. he has been playing on the bed, you see, for it is all tossed, and one of the pillows has tumbled on the floor. let as take a peep into the nursery, where percy's play-things are. there is a railway train on the floor, just as he has been playing with it; and beyond the train, where he had made a huge castle with all the bricks he could find, the floor is all strewn over with bricks from the castle, which has tumbled down. who will pick up all these things, and tidy the two rooms that percy has left in such a dreadful state? his mother, maybe, who has so many other things to do. would =you= leave all your clothes scattered on the floor for some one else to pick up, instead of folding them neatly yourself? or would you like another to have the trouble of putting away all your toys? no, i am sure you would not. none of us want to be selfish, but if percy does not mind, =he= will grow up selfish, because he is not taking thought for others. hang up your cap and coat, and put away your toys, save mother all the work you can, dear little girls and boys. the recitation, "two little maids" (_new recitations for infants_) would follow this story lesson appropriately. lxviii. how to offer sweets, etc. . how baby did it. some one had brought baby a parcel of sweets. they were rather sticky, but baby did not mind that when the colours were so pretty! there were pink, blue, red and yellow sweets, and she was greatly pleased with them. baby was very kind and unselfish, so she wanted us all to share her sweets, and picking one out with her little chubby fingers, (which were not any too clean), she offered it to mamma. you see baby was very tiny, and had not yet learnt that sweets should always be offered in the paper or box, and not be touched by the fingers at all. but mamma explained this to her, and then baby lifted up the paper, and trotted round to everybody, holding it out, and saying, "please, take one". fruit and nuts should be offered in a plate or dish. it is not nice to touch with our fingers anything that we are offering to others. (blackboard.) always offer sweets in the paper or box. lxix. yawning, coughing, and sneezing. . i daresay you have sometime been in a room where a person was sleepy, and kept yawning continually. you know that by-and-by you begin to do the same yourself, and it is very disagreeable. a good plan is to run out of the room and bathe your face in cold water: that will soon make you feel bright again. it is not nice to yawn, because it makes other people feel sleepy, and we should never forget to cover the mouth with the hand: it is very rude to open the mouth wide, and not to put the hand in front of it. in coughing and sneezing, people should make as little noise as they possibly can. sometimes we hear coughing in church, and the minister can scarcely speak for the noise. a pocket-handkerchief will soften the sound a good deal, both in coughing and sneezing. these are only little things, but they can make others feel uncomfortable, and you remember we said that it was rude to do =anything= that caused people to be uncomfortable (p. ), so do not forget to (blackboard) cover the mouth when yawning; make as little noise as possible when coughing or sneezing. lxx. how a slate should not be cleaned. . you will have noticed that there is always moisture in your mouth. where do you think it comes from? perhaps you did not know that there were six tiny fountains in your mouth, two on each side the tongue, and one in each cheek. when you are well these little fountains pour out the fluid which keeps your mouth so nice and moist. sometimes when people are ill the little fountains do not flow, and the mouth is all dry and parched, and they are longing to drink all the time. the fluid that comes from the tiny wells is called saliva, and, when we eat, it mixes with the food in the mouth, and goes down with it into the stomach. but this is what i want you to learn, the saliva is never to be sent out of the mouth in the way that is called "spitting" (an ugly word, is it not?), and you must remember never to do this, not even when you are cleaning your slate. you may breathe on your slate, and rub it dry with your slate rag, though that is not a very nice way. the best plan of all is to have a damp sponge, as well as a slate rag, and a well-mannered child would have both. if there is anything in your mouth that needs to come away, take it out with your pocket-handkerchief, and remember that the proper way is to (blackboard) clean your slate with a damp sponge, and dry with a slate rag, not with a pocket-handkerchief. lxxi. the pocket-handkerchief. . guessing rhyme.[ ] you have me in your pocket, i'm square and white, 'tis true, and many things i'm used for by children such as you. (let children guess answer.--pocket-handkerchief.) there is moisture in the nose as well as in the mouth, and we keep a handkerchief in our pocket to take the moisture away, when it makes us uncomfortable. a nice, clean child will never be without a pocket-handkerchief, and he will use it =without having to be told=. in using a pocket-handkerchief, as in coughing and sneezing, we should make as little noise as possible, and we should try not to have to use it at table. if it is necessary to do so, we must turn our head away, as we should do if we were obliged to cough or sneeze. (blackboard.) use pocket-handkerchief without being told, making as little noise as possible. footnote: [ ] _games without music_, no. . lxxii. how to behave at table. (on sitting still at table.) . phil's disaster. phil was a little boy, and sat on a high chair at the table. he was very fond of tilting his chair backwards and forwards, which was not well-mannered, you will say. one dinner time, just as all the dishes had been placed on the table, and phil was tilting back as far as ever he could, it happened that the chair lost its balance, and fell over backwards, taking phil with it; and as he grasped the tablecloth in falling, he drew it with all the dishes on the top of him. many of the dishes were broken, and the dinner was all scattered and spoilt. surely phil would never tilt his chair again. . fidgety katie. have you ever sat at table with a child who was never still? such a child was katie! instead of waiting quietly until every one was served, she would fidget about on her chair, put her little fat arms on the table (which you know is a very rude thing to do), and move from side to side all the time. when at last she was served, her dinner would be quickly eaten, and then she was impatient to be gone, and kept asking mother if she might not leave the table, and go to her book or her play. now if katie had thought a little of others, she would not have made everybody uncomfortable by being so restless. when she was waiting to be served, and when she had finished, she should have sat quietly with her hands in her lap. these two stories teach us that (blackboard) we must sit still at table. (thinking of others at table.) . the helpful little girl. a very different child from restless katie (story lesson ) was hilda, whose mother had died, and left her little ones to the care of auntie. when the dinner-bell rang, hilda would run into the room, and see that all the chairs were in their places round the table, especially baby's, for he was much too little to bring his own chair. it was hilda who lifted baby into his place, and tied on his "feeder"; and when his plate was passed, she prepared his food, and took care that it was not too hot for him. hilda's bright eyes were always ready to see anything that was needed: "shall i pass you the salt, grandpapa?" "may i give you a little water, auntie?" no wonder auntie said that hilda was just like sunshine in the house, and the reason was that she thought so little of herself, and so much of those around her. let us try to be like hilda; she was much happier, i am sure, than restless katie, for there is nothing nicer than to bring sunshine into the lives of others, and this we do by being helpful. (blackboard.) think of others when you are at table; pass things and help all you can. (upsetting things at table.) . leslie and the christmas dinner we heard of people who were clumsy in another story lesson (no. ), and i am afraid leslie was a little like them. it was christmas day, and there was a large family party at grandmamma's, to which leslie and his mother were invited. the dinner-table looked beautiful with its snow-white cloth and shining silver, and its decorations of christmas roses and red-berried holly. the dinner-bell rang, and the guests took their places at the table. leslie bounced into the room, and was sitting down on the last chair, all in a hurry, when he somehow caught the tablecloth, and by dragging it upset the gravy, and sent it streaming all over the nice, clean cloth. leslie was very sorry, and his mother was so uncomfortable at the thought of his clumsiness, that i am afraid the dinner was spoilt for =her=. from leslie we learn to (blackboard) sit down carefully, so as not to upset anything. . cherry stones. if you were eating plum tart or cherry pudding, how should you manage with the stones? (let children try to answer.) when a little bird eats a cherry, he drops the stone on the ground; the bird has no spoon and fork to eat with, so that is the best thing he can do. one day a boy, named kenneth, was invited out to dinner, and one of the dishes was cherry tart. there was a custard pudding as well, but kenneth thought he would like cherry tart better, and he did not remember that the stones might be a difficulty until he began to eat it. he felt sure that it was not right to drop them out of his mouth on to the plate, and he could not think what else to do. he looked round the table, but no one else was taking cherry tart, or he might have noticed what another person did. at last he determined that he would keep all the cherry stones in his cheek until dinner was over, and put them out afterwards, when no one was looking. but presently some one told a funny little story, and, as kenneth could not help laughing with the rest, out came the cherry stones, to his great dismay. the best way is to separate the stone from the cherry on your plate with the spoon and fork, but if you cannot manage this, take the stone from your mouth with the spoon, and put it gently on the edge of the plate. everybody has to learn these things, and as no one had happened to tell kenneth, of course he did not know. lxxiii. on eating and drinking. . key e. {:s |d :m |m :m |l :r |r } . i must not fill my mouth too full, {:r |f :r |s :r |m :-- |-- } nor ver - y quick - ly eat, {:m |r :f |m :s |f :l |s } but take a small piece, chew it well, {:l |s :m |s :r |d :-- |-- } and fin - ish all my meat. . food should be carried to my mouth upon the fork, i see; the knife is used to cut, and ought not near the lips to be. . when pudding comes, the =point= of spoon within the mouth may go, but soup or broth is taken from the =side= of it you know. . without a noise i eat and drink, i must not spill my food, nor scald my mouth, nor make complaint, "this is not nice, not good". . key e. {|m :-- |m :m |f :f |f :-- } . small bites of bread we take, {|r :-- |r :r |m :s |s :-- } and chew it well be - fore {|l :-- |d :l |s :m |m :-- } we drink our tea or milk; {|m :-- |r :l |s :s |s :-- } we must not ask for more {|f :-- |r :l |s :m |s :-- } un - til we've finished quite, {|m :-- |r :m |d :d |d :-- } for that would not be right. . if handkerchiefs we use, or sneeze or cough, we try, when seated at our food, to do it quietly; and don't forget, i pray, to turn your head away. . when we have finished, then the knife and fork should lie together on our plate, and hands rest quietly within the lap,[ ] this wise, until mamma shall rise. (explain that children should not leave table until mother has done so, unless she gives them permission.) footnote: [ ] fold hands in lap. lxxiv. finale. . how another queen builded. a great many years ago, a little girl played in a garden in london. her father was dead, but she had a dear, good mother, who taught her to build for herself a good and beautiful character, for the mother knew that this would be a better thing for the little girl to have than gold or diamonds, because as the fairy queen told us, it =lasts for ever=. as time went on the little girl grew up, and became a great queen. she has been a queen now for more than sixty years, and i do not think there ever was so good a queen, and we are sure there never was one so dearly loved. the queen has a beautiful gold crown, and beautiful castles and palaces to live in, but these are not the things she values most. best of all, she has all those lovely jewels in her character that we have been speaking about, with "truth" for the foundation, and it is all woven round with the pure gold of "kindness"; these are the jewels that are more precious to the great queen than crowns and costly stones. do you know the name of this queen? it is our own queen victoria. why do we love her so much? not because she is a queen, simply, for queens have sometimes been wicked, but because she is good, and true, and kind, and these jewels make up the something that we call "character," which when built like this is more beautiful than the fairies' temple. and just think of it: =every= little boy and girl may build up a good, true character, which is the most precious thing you can have. the story lessons in this book have been written to help each one of =you= who hear them to build up this beautiful temple of character. the queen believes that a =good= "character" is the best thing in the world, and i want you all to think so too. a man who was put in prison for preaching wrote a beautiful book,[ ] which you will read when you are older, and in it there is this story. the story tells of a man who spent all his time raking up rubbish on the floor to find gold and other things, and =never once looked up=. but all the time there was an angel standing behind him with a beautiful crown in her hand, which she wanted the man to have, but he never saw it. that is like the people who think of nothing but =self=, instead of "looking up" and thinking of the beautiful "stones" that build up the "temple," which is such a good thing to have, just as the crown was, which the man did not see. let us look up and see all that is beautiful and good, so that we may become like god who made all these things. footnote: [ ] _pilgrim's progress._ * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors repaired. page xiii, "another" changed to "another" (how another queen) page , word "on" added to text (mother had gone on) page , "thoughful" changed to "thoughtful" ("a lovely idea," said "thoughtful") page , "out" changed to "own" (own accord) http://www.archive.org/details/lessonsonmanner wigggoog transcriber's note: text enclosed by equal signs was in bold face in the original (=bold=). lessons on manners for school and home use by edith e. wiggin "a beautiful behavior is the finest of the fine arts."--emerson. boston lee and shepard publishers milk street copyright, , by lee and shepard. all rights reserved. contents. introduction lesson i. manners in general lesson ii. manners at school lesson iii. manners on the street lesson iv. manners at home lesson v. manners toward the aged lesson vi. manners at the table lesson vii. manners in society lesson viii. manners at church lesson ix. manners at places of amusement lesson x. manners in stores and similar public places lesson xi. manners in travelling lesson xii. manners in borrowing lessons on manners. introduction. it is true that good manners, like good morals, are best taught by the teacher's example. it is also true that definite lessons, in which the subject can be considered in its appropriate divisions, are of no little value if we would have our children attain to "that finest of the fine arts, a beautiful behavior." such lessons should be as familiar and conversational as possible. they ought to be talks rather than lectures; and the children should be encouraged to do a large part of the talking. children that come from homes where good manners are taught and practised, will be glad to repeat the precepts of politeness learned in the home circle; and those less favored will not want to be behind in this hitherto unstudied branch. we must remember that many children hear no mention of politeness outside the school-room, and are uncouth and rude, not so much because they choose to be, as because they do not know how to be otherwise. i have used in my own schools of different grades a series of simple lessons, varying both matter and method according to the age and capacity of scholars. the good results have been marked, not only in the school-room, but at home and in public places; and years afterwards scholars have expressed their grateful appreciation of this instruction and its value to them in every-day life. i have thought that the publication of these outline lessons might be a help to other teachers also, in the way of offering suggestions and saving time in preparing lessons for their own classes. for some classes the lessons as arranged in this little book may be too long, for others too short. they are outlines merely, to be filled in and supplemented by each teacher, adding to, taking from, and varying them at her discretion. it may seem unnecessary to touch upon such simple things as some that are spoken of. the teacher, perhaps, cannot remember when these axioms were not familiar to her; but let her put questions to the children concerning them, and she will find in many schools that to half the pupils she is talking in an unknown tongue. matters are mentioned which do not concern them now so much as they will a few years later; as, for instance, conduct at places of amusement and in company; but in these things, as in their school studies, boys and girls are learning now for the future. my plan would be to have a familiar talk with the children one day, drawing from them, as far as it can be done, the rules of behavior which the teacher wishes to impress upon them. when she can illustrate a point by a story, the impression will be deepened. it is well also to speak of acts which have come under the teacher's eye in the school-room, on the play-ground, or on the way to school, and let the children decide whether these were polite or impolite, and why. this will make the whole matter more real to them, and, if they are encouraged to furnish illustrations, they will open their eyes and find them in their own little worlds. we want our children in school, from the youngest to the oldest, to notice a breach of politeness as quickly as an error in recitation. a little girl of five from a wretched family, who had proved an apt scholar in the branch under consideration, one day performed some trifling service for an awkward little new scholar. i shall never forget her look and tone of amazement as she turned to her teacher with, "why! he didn't say 'thank you.'" at the time of the next exercise, i would have the children reproduce from an outline placed upon the blackboard the precepts deduced from the previous talk, not insisting upon any form of words, but encouraging them to use their own. this will be also a good oral exercise in language. if the scholars are old enough, this oral review can be put upon paper, either at this time or for a composition exercise another day. nothing except practising the precepts will so fix these in their minds. if the teacher thinks best, a copy of this manual may be placed in the hands of each scholar, and the lesson prepared like other lessons, from the printed page. this course would diminish the amount of blackboard writing. let the teacher, when it seems wise, commend acts of politeness in her scholars. if they know she sees and appreciates their efforts, they will redouble them. it should be her constant aim to lead her scholars so to think on these things that are lovely and of good report in the province of manners, as well as in the higher one of morals, to which it is so closely allied, that thinking may take the shape of doing, and doing may crystallize into habit. lesson i. outline for blackboard. manners in general. _quotation about manners._ _golden rule._ _need of constant practice._ _learning by observation._ _quotation._ lesson i. manners in general. it has been said, "manners are something with every one, and everything with some." strangers will judge us entirely by our manners, since they cannot know, as our friends do, what is beneath this outward behavior. the golden rule is the foundation of true politeness, which must spring from kindness of heart. if we earnestly try to do to others what we would have them do to us, though we may through ignorance disregard some points of society etiquette, yet we can hardly be impolite. good manners cannot be put on at pleasure, like an outside coat, but must belong to us. we have all seen veneering on furniture. at first the cheap pine article may look as well as if it were made of the costly wood with which it is covered; but in the wear and tear of every-day use the veneering will come off in places, showing the common wood beneath. so it will be with our manners. if they are not solid and real throughout, the thin covering of politeness will break off here and there, especially when exposed to hard usage, and the real stuff we are made of will be revealed. if we carefully observe persons of fine manners, we shall learn much that can be learned in no other way. we must not think we are too well informed to be taught on this or any subject, but keep our eyes and ears open, and be always ready to learn a "more excellent way." the greatest advantage to young people of being in good society is the opportunity to learn by observation. we began this lesson with a quotation, and we will close by another worth remembering: "politeness is like an air-cushion; there may be nothing solid in it, but it eases the jolts of this world wonderfully." lesson ii. outline for blackboard. manners at school. _entering and leaving room._ _laughing at mistakes or accidents._ _conduct if accidents occur._ _treatment of new scholars._ _conduct when visitors are present._ _raising hand._ _rights of property._ _distributing and collecting materials._ _conduct at looking-glass and drinking place._ _in relating occurrences, when to speak of one's self._ lesson ii. manners at school. we must not forget to say "good morning" to the teacher when we first see her before school; or, if we stop after school to speak to her, "good afternoon" when we leave. if a boy comes back into the room after dismissal, he must remember to take off his hat. it is rude to laugh at mistakes or awkwardness: nothing is more ill-bred as well as unkind. if an accident occurs, we should not laugh, unless it is so amusing that all can join without hurting the feelings of the one concerned. if an accident happens to the dress or property of teacher or classmate, we should offer our assistance quietly, if we can be of use, or else not appear to see it, and by no means call attention to it. we ought to try to make a new scholar feel at home,--help him to become acquainted with the others, tell him the rules and customs of the school, and assist him at first in his lessons if he needs it. we ought not to stare at him when he enters or rises to recite, or smile if he makes a mistake. it is kind to draw him into games at recess until he forgets he is a stranger. we should be especially careful to do all this if the new scholar is poorly or peculiarly dressed, or is crippled, or unfortunate in any way. when visitors are present, we must be sure to behave as well as at other times. if reading or singing is going on, we should pass them a book, handing it properly, and should treat them as politely as if they were at our houses. when the teacher is engaged with company, we should not disturb her with unnecessary questions, but busy ourselves until she is at liberty. to raise hands when it can be avoided is an impolite interruption of school work, and is as rude as talking too much in company. to raise the hand when a teacher or scholar is speaking is the same thing as to interrupt them with a remark or question. we must respect the rights of property. it is wrong to take a garment, book, or other article before or after school without asking permission. if anything is borrowed, it should be returned promptly with thanks. if we are distributing materials to the class, we should hand articles quietly and politely to each in turn, and in collecting never snatch a book or paper. when a number of scholars are waiting for a drink at recess, we sometimes see them crowd and push one another, each trying to serve himself first. it makes us think of cattle at a watering-trough. the cattle know no better, but boys and girls do. the polite way is for each to stand back and wait his turn. this is not only the pleasantest but the quickest way for all to be satisfied. if boys and girls are waiting together, every gentlemanly boy will wait for the girls to drink first, and the girls should accept his politeness in a polite manner. the same remark applies to conduct in the dressing-room before school. scholars should quietly wait for others to hang up clothing and use the looking-glass, instead of pushing forward to secure the first chance. these early habits of courtesy or rudeness will cling to us through life. when we see people rushing for the best seats in cars or steamboats, and crowding others aside at counters and railroad restaurants, we may be reasonably sure they are those who, when boys and girls at school, pushed others away from the looking-glass and the drinking place. in speaking of occurrences, we must not say, "i and james went." we ought to speak of ourselves last in all cases, except where mischief has been done, when we should relate our own share first. lesson iii. outline for blackboard. manners on the street. _why especially important._ _noisy and boisterous conduct._ _calling to any one across the street._ _obstructing the sidewalk._ _meeting and passing persons, crossing over, and taking leave._ _returning salutations._ _carrying an umbrella._ _eating in the street._ _throwing things on the sidewalk._ _marking walls and fences._ _looking at windows of private houses and pointing at objects._ _staring at or laughing at infirmities._ _answering questions._ _offering assistance. incidents._ lesson iii. manners on the street. manners on the street are especially important, because many see us there who never see us elsewhere, and they will judge us and our home and school training by our good or bad behavior there. noisy and boisterous conduct on the street is always unbecoming. no well-bred boy or girl will ever try to attract attention there. to make one's self conspicuous in public is a sure sign of ignorance and ill-breeding. if we wish to speak to a person on the other side of the street, though it be only a schoolmate, the proper way is not to call to him, but to cross over quietly and speak. if we wish to look behind us, we should not twist the head around, but turn the whole body. it is extremely rude to walk three or four together, unless in an unfrequented street, or to stop on corners to talk. in meeting persons, we must turn to the right, and never take more than our share of the sidewalk, and give an old person or a lady more than half. in passing people, we should be careful not to crowd or jostle them; it is better to step off the sidewalk to pass an older person than to do this. if we are walking with any one, and wish to take leave or cross the street, we should step behind and not in front of our companion. a boy should be as careful as a gentleman to give a lady the inside of the walk. when we meet an acquaintance we must not say, "halloa!" but give or return the proper salutation. our tone and manner should be cordial to all and respectful to older people. for a boy or girl to bestow upon a teacher or any older person a patronizing nod instead of a courteous bow, or a curt "good morning" or "good evening" with the rising inflection on the last syllable, is an impertinence. even little boys should learn to lift their hats to ladies, and also to gentlemen entitled by age or position to this mark of respect. we must keep step with the person with whom we are walking, if we would not make an awkward appearance. it is proper for a younger person to accommodate his pace to that of an older, and a gentleman must keep step with a lady. if we see any one fall in the street, we should never be so rude as to laugh, but should hasten to help if help is needed. if we speak to a stranger by mistake, we should ask pardon; and if one speaks to us, we should gracefully accept his apology, as if the mistake were most natural, not adding to his embarrassment by our manner of cold surprise. if we have occasion to ask directions of a stranger, we should say, "will you please tell me if this is the road to lynn?" rather than "say! is this the road to lynn?" we should never fail to give cordial thanks for information. in holding an umbrella over any one, we must carry it high enough, give more of it than we take, and in meeting other umbrellas give them their share of room. it is ill-mannered to eat anything in the street. no rubbish, such as paper, nutshells, or orange-peel, should be thrown on the sidewalk: there is a proper place for such things; and we ought to have too much regard for the neat appearance of our streets to litter them. in this connection, let us remember that to mark on walls or fences anywhere not only violates the right of property, but is exceedingly ill-bred. if we see names scrawled in public places, we may be sure the persons thus making themselves conspicuous are not ladies or gentlemen. we should never stare at windows of private houses, and never point at any person. another rude thing often done is to ask a ride of a stranger, or, worse still, to steal one by jumping on his carriage without asking. if we see those who are lame or deformed, we should not call attention to them, or look at them ourselves in a way to remind them of their infirmities. if strangers inquire the way of us, we should answer their questions politely. we should give directions with clearness, and cheerfully go out of our way to point out a street or building. sometimes we see on the street persons from the country, who seem bewildered by the noise and bustle, and uncertain which way to go. in such cases, especially if they are old or infirm, we should ask in a kind way if we can be of service; and we should be glad to help them out of their difficulty, even if it costs us time and trouble. the following incident illustrates this street politeness:-- "as i was walking along a street of a large city," says the writer, "i saw an old man, who seemed to be blind, walking along without any one to lead him. he went very slowly, feeling with his cane, and was walking straight to the curbstone. just then a boy who was playing near the corner left his playmates, ran up to the old man, put his hand through his arm and said, 'let me lead you across the street.' he not only helped him over one crossing, but led him over another, to the lower side of the street. now this boy thought he had only done a kindness to a poor old man, but in reality he had taught a lesson of true politeness to his playmates and to every person who saw the act." lesson iv. outline for blackboard. manners at home. _why most important of all._ _politeness to parents._ _politeness between brothers and sisters._ _politeness to servants. illustrated by story._ _treatment of company:--_ _grown-up company,--callers and visitors,--young company._ lesson iv. manners at home. our manners at home are of more importance than our manners anywhere else, for several reasons: we spend more time at home than elsewhere; our own family have stronger claims upon us than strangers; they love us best and do most for us, and they are entitled not only to our love but to every courtesy and attention from us. it is a sad thing to see a boy or girl polite and kind away from home and to strangers only, while at home he is rude, selfish, and heedless of every law of good behavior. if we are always polite in our own homes, we shall be sure to be polite in other people's homes. if we do not forget to say "good morning" and "good evening" to each member of our family, we shall not forget to say them to others. if a child has fruit or candy, he ought not to sit down by himself to eat it, without offering some to his companions. in olden times it was quite common for a young man in writing to his father to address him as "honored sir." while these formal modes of speech may be out of place in our time, we should so keep the commandment to honor our parents that its spirit shall be seen in our every-day conduct. children should in all things make parents first and themselves last. a boy ought to show his mother every attention that he would to any lady. he should remove his hat when coming to speak to her, let her pass through a door before him, pick up any article she may drop, give her the inside of the walk, help her into a carriage, show her into the pew at church, and wait upon her everywhere. he has similar duties to his sisters; but girls cannot expect politeness from, unless they give it to, their brothers. we should say "please" when asking a favor from our own family. children should say "please" and "thank you" to servants, and should never laugh at their mistakes or hurt their feelings. here is an illustration of two ways of treating a mistake. a servant-girl who had been but a little while in this country had never seen any radishes. when the dinner was sent home from market one day, a bunch of radishes came with the other vegetables. she supposed they were to be cooked like the rest, so she carefully cut off the tops and boiled them, then dished them up on a small white platter, and placed them on the table with a satisfied look. a boy in the family burst into a loud laugh and exclaimed, "i guess you never saw any radishes before, mary; you've spoilt them." it was necessary then to explain the mistake, which had better been done quietly after dinner; and the poor girl retired in confusion to shed tears of mortification over her ignorance. after dinner this boy's little sister said to a visitor, "the radishes did look so funny and small on the dish that i thought i should laugh, but i knew mary would feel bad if i did, so i looked at my plate and tried to think of something else." it is easy to decide which of these children illustrated politeness to servants. if our parents are away when visitors come, or too busy to see them at once, it is our place to show them in politely, take a gentleman's hat, or a lady's wrappings if she wishes to remove them, offer a comfortable chair, show them anything that we think will interest them, and entertain them as well as we can until older people are at liberty. when they are busy with company we should not trouble them with any request that can wait. if friends of our parents are visiting them, we should do all we can to make the visit pleasant, and should help our mothers even more than usual, that they may have more time for the visitors. if we can take care of younger brothers or sisters, it will often be a great relief to them and the company besides. a lady once went to visit a friend whom she had not seen for years. there was much to talk about, and both felt that the afternoon would be all too short. think how surprised and pleased the visitor was when her friend's little daughter, instead of staying in the room and teasing her mother with all manner of questions, as children often do in such cases, took her baby brother upstairs and amused him until tea-time, so that her mother might have a quiet afternoon with her friend. you may be sure the lady will never forget that little girl's thoughtful politeness. we should not enter visitors' rooms without knocking, or sit down without being invited; neither should we take up anything belonging to them, or ask questions about it. we should try not to be tiresome or disagreeable. when young people come to visit us we should remember that their entertainment is our affair. we should treat them precisely as we would want to be treated at their houses. it is rude to criticise their dress or anything belonging to them, or to ask inquisitive questions about their homes. we should talk about the things they are interested in, play the games they like, show them our toys and books, and have regard to their preferences in every occupation and amusement. home ought to be the happiest place in the world, and the daily practice of genuine politeness toward each other will do much to make it so. every little seed of courtesy, kindness, and consideration for others sown in the home circle will spring up and bear many more after its own kind, which shall be scattered, like the seeds in nature, by winds and waters, and shall be a blessing to the world wherever they may fall. lesson v. outline for blackboard. manners toward the aged. _respectful treatment at all times._ _mistakes in grammar and pronunciation._ _attention to remarks and questions._ _patience in repeating answers._ _what to talk of and read to them._ _waiting upon them and saving steps._ _giving them the best seats._ _helping them first at table._ _giving up seats in cars and public places to them._ _never letting them feel in the way._ lesson v. manners toward the aged. no person, however high his position, is so entitled to respect and attention as one with white hair and bent figure. no young person of right feeling and good-breeding will ever fail in politeness toward the old. the bible commands us to reverence the aged, and in one place says, "thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honor the face of the old man." even among the lowest races of men respect for old people is almost universal. there is a story of an indian which illustrates this. the writer tells us that many years ago, on the banks of the kennebec river, he saw an indian coming across in his canoe. he had his wife with him and a very old woman covered with a blanket. when he reached the shore he kindled a fire, took out the old woman in his arms and laid her down tenderly by it. he then cooked some food and gave it to her, while he and his wife waited until she had finished eating. seeing the gentleman observing him, he pointed to the aged woman and said, "it is my mother." in china disrespect to the aged is unknown, and disobedience to parents has been punished with death. we cannot expect to be honored when we are old, unless we honor the old when we are young. almost every one has read the story of "the wooden bowl," which well illustrates what has just been said. an old man who had a home with his son had become so infirm that he could no longer work. his son treated him unkindly, and grudgingly gave him his scanty portion of coarse food, making the poor old man feel that he was considered a burden by his own child. matters grew worse until at last he was not allowed to come to the table. his son made for him a rude wooden bowl, from which he ate his food in the kitchen. one day this son saw his own little boy at work with his jackknife on a piece of wood. "what are you doing, my child?" he asked. "i am making a wooden bowl like grandpa's, for you to eat out of when you are old, father," said the child. this answer made such an impression upon the son, showing him what treatment he had a right to expect from his own children after the example he had given them, that from that time he treated his old father with the respect and kindness he himself wished to receive in his old age. we should never laugh at mistakes in speech. the old-fashioned expressions that seem so queer to us may have been right when those who use them were young. some of our ways of speaking will probably seem as strange to young people when we are old as theirs do now to us, so we are laughing at ourselves beforehand. then we should remember that years ago school privileges were not so great as they are now. children then went to school but little in comparison with us, and their speech was not watched and corrected by teachers as ours is. we ought never to criticise mistakes in the aged as we would in our little brothers and sisters: it is disrespectful; and besides they are too old to change habits. we should listen with attention and with no sign of impatience to all they say, answer their questions kindly, and not contradict, even if through forgetfulness the same question is often asked and mistakes are made. if they are childish and sometimes fault-finding, we should treat them with the gentleness we would show to a little child, together with the respect that belongs to gray hairs. if they are hard of hearing, we should repeat patiently and gently and never shout an answer. when we talk with them we should talk of what they care for, even if it is what we are not interested in. if we try, we can generally become interested for their sakes. we should be willing to read to them articles and books that may seem prosy to us; we ought to think how long the days must seem to those who are too feeble to go out as we do, and we should be glad to do what we can to entertain them. we should cheerfully wait upon old people, and let them feel that young hands and feet are glad to take the place of theirs. there are countless little services which we can perform for them: we can bring grandfather his hat and cane, find a place in the paper for him with our bright eyes, thread grandmother's needle, pick up dropped stitches in her knitting, hunt for her glasses when she loses them, and run on errands for them both. they ought to have the most comfortable chairs, in winter the warmest seats by the fire, and in the evening the place where their failing eyes shall have the best light. if we are sitting in the only rocking-chair in the room, or in the easiest one, and an old person enters, we should immediately _rise_ and offer it to him, not simply ask if he would not like it. at the table we should see that old people are helped first and their wants carefully attended to. in cars or public places, a boy or girl should never allow an old man or woman to stand, but should hasten to give up a seat and insist on its being taken, especially if the person is poorly dressed. the following story of what happened long ago in the famous old city of athens well illustrates this point:-- a play was to be performed at the principal theatre of athens, and the seats were soon taken. when the theatre was full, an old man came in and looked around for a seat. he was quite infirm and could not stand long. he looked first one way and then another. at length he saw a party of young athenians beckoning to him. he tried to get to them, which he had to do by climbing over seats and pushing through the crowd; and, when at last he reached them, they sat down, and, instead of giving him the seat he had expected, took up all the room, leaving the old man standing. in this theatre were some seats fitted up for strangers. these were filled by young spartans, who, when they saw the behavior of the athenians, were much displeased, and beckoned to the old man to come to them. when he was near them they all rose and received him with the greatest respect. the whole assembly, seeing this, could not help bursting into a shout of applause. the old man then said, "the athenians know what is right, but the spartans practise it." above all things, we should never let the old feel that they are in the way, or that it is a relief when they leave the room. they are usually sensitive to anything like a slight, and their feelings are quickly hurt by real or seeming neglect. lesson vi. outline for blackboard. manners at the table. _promptness in coming to the table._ _when to be seated._ _waiting one's turn to be helped._ _beginning to eat before others._ _asking for articles of food,--how, when, and where._ _criticism of food on the table._ _use of napkin, knife, fork, and spoon._ _haste in eating._ _attention to wants of others._ _conduct in case of accidents._ _mention of unpleasant subjects._ _use of toothpick._ _when and how to leave the table._ _quietness of movement._ _observance of table manners in others._ lesson vi. manners at the table. it is not polite to linger after being called to the table. when the bell is rung, or any other summons given, it is to be supposed that the meal is ready, and the call should be promptly obeyed. food does not improve by waiting, and unnecessary delay is rudeness to the persons at whose table we sit, whether our own parents or strangers. when we know the hours for meals we should plan to be ready for them. until the lady of the house takes her seat, other persons should not take theirs. in taking our seats we should be careful not to jar the table. each one should quietly wait his turn to be helped. children sometimes pass their plates as soon as they are seated, or begin to handle knife, fork, and spoon as if they were in hungry haste. they should wait for visitors and older persons to be helped first, and brothers should wait for their sisters. a story is told of a little girl, five years old, who at a large dinner party was overlooked until the company had finished the first course. she waited before her empty plate in perfect quietness until some one noticed her,--bravely trying to keep back the tears,--because she thought it was the polite and proper thing to do. this was carrying polite waiting further than was necessary, but was much better than the rude haste too common among children. it is polite to wait until all or nearly all are helped before beginning to eat; and children should never begin before older people. it is not polite to ask for things at other tables than our own or those of intimate friends who expect it of us. the persons at whose table we sit are expected to supply our wants without our making them known. in asking we must not forget to say, "please pass the bread," or whatever we wish for, and to say, "if you please," "yes, thank you," or "no, thank you," when we accept or decline what is offered. we should ask for any article by name, and never point at the dish. ill-mannered children sometimes ask for pie or pudding or oranges before they are brought on, instead of waiting for the courses in their proper order, and even have been known to make their entire dinner on the dessert. one is apt to think such children are not accustomed to dainties in their own homes, or they would not be so greedy for them. we should never say, "i don't like that," if something is offered we do not wish to eat, but simply decline it beforehand or leave it upon our plates without remark; and under no circumstances should we criticise what is on the table. there is a proper, graceful way to handle napkin, knife, fork, and spoon, and we should study to learn this way and to avoid the clumsy awkwardness in these little things that marks the person unused to good society. to eat fast is one of the bad habits of american people which we ought to avoid. if acquired in childhood, it will be hard to overcome, and will cause us much mortification when, later in life, we find ourselves with empty plates long before well-bred people in the company have finished theirs. since we do not leave the table before others, there is nothing gained, even in time, while much is lost in health and in good manners. we should be attentive to the wants of others, particularly at our own table, and quietly supply them when it is proper to do so, especially in the case of old people and little children. in passing a knife, fork, or spoon to others, we must offer them the handle, not the blade or point, and pass a pitcher with the handle toward them. if an accident occurs, such as breaking a dish, overturning a glass of water, or dropping food upon the cloth, we should take no notice of it by look or word unless we can repair the mischief, which we should do in a way not to attract attention to the unlucky person. we should never speak of what is unpleasant at the table. if we have bad news to tell, this is not the place to tell it. sickness, accident, death, and whatever is painful to hear, should not be discussed any more than what is disagreeable. neither is the table the place to talk of work or business details, but subjects should be chosen that all are interested in. no one should be allowed to scold or find fault at meal time. cheerful conversation is good for digestion as well as enjoyment. each one should be in his best mood at the table, and the hours which families spend together there ought to be among the happiest of the day. solomon understood this matter when he said, "better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith." no well-bred person would for a moment think of using a toothpick at the table, still less a fork or a pin in place of a toothpick. no one, either a grown person or a child, should leave his seat until the lady of the house rises, unless there is good reason for doing so, when he should politely ask her to excuse him. in rising, the chair should not be pushed back from the table, but lifted quietly with the hands, and left in its proper position. every movement at the table should be made with as little noise as possible. all moving of feet, leaning upon the table, jostling of dishes, or clatter of knives and forks, shows ignorance of table manners. if we observe the manners and customs of others in society to which we have not been accustomed, we shall be often saved from blunders. if those in company with us make mistakes, we should be governed by the same rule as in case of accidents,--not take notice unless we can undo or cover the mistake. an incident is related of a certain king which illustrates this true politeness. at the royal table on one occasion were two ladies from an obscure provincial town who were unused to the customs of city and court. when tea was brought in they poured some from the cup into the saucer to cool it. the king saw a smile go around the table at their expense, and, with politeness worthy of a king, he hastened to pour his own tea into the saucer, upon which every person at the table felt obliged to follow the royal example, and the two strangers were spared the mortification of discovering that they had done anything unusual. lesson vii. outline for blackboard. manners in society. _entering and taking leave._ _removal of hat and care of wrappings._ _various courtesies._ _staring at or speaking of defects and infirmities._ _treatment of accidents and mistakes._ _whispering, laughing, and private conversation._ _attention to one's dress or matters of toilet._ _sitting still gracefully._ _inattention to the company we are in._ _introductions._ _giving proper titles._ _attention in conversation,--illustration._ _attention to reading or music._ _looking over another's shoulder._ _reading letters._ _interest in what is shown us._ _asking questions of strangers._ _contradicting statements._ _doing our part._ lesson vii. manners in society. when we make a call upon a friend, we should speak to each person in the room when we enter and when we leave, but at a party or other formal gathering it is not necessary to take leave of any except the host and hostess, to whom we must also speak as soon as we arrive. a visit is a more important matter than a call, and at its close, we should take pains to bid good by to each one of the household, expressing to those who have entertained us, when we can do so with truth, our enjoyment of the visit, and our wish to have them visit us. it is polite to write as soon as possible to those whom we have been visiting: they wish to know of our safe arrival at home; and a letter also gives us opportunity to say any pleasant thing about the visit that we may have forgotten or omitted. upon entering any house a gentleman or gentlemanly boy will remove his hat, and never allow it upon his head inside the door. when the streets are muddy or snowy, we should carefully wipe our feet or remove our overshoes at the door; and in stormy weather we must take care that dripping waterproofs and umbrellas are put where they will not injure carpets or paper. when the company are putting on their wrappings to go home, it is polite to offer assistance, particularly to those older than ourselves. a gentleman should allow a lady to pass through a door before him, holding it open for her. we ought not to pass in front of others if we can go behind them; but if it is necessary to do so, we should ask them to excuse us. a gentleman should go upstairs before a lady, and behind her coming down, taking care not to step on her dress. if a handkerchief or other article is dropped, we should hasten to pick it up and restore it to the owner. in handing a pair of scissors, a knife, or any pointed article, we ought to turn the point toward ourselves. it is rude to stare at people in company, especially if they are unfortunate in any way or peculiar in appearance; neither is it polite to allude to a personal defect or ask a question about its cause, even in the kindest manner. the same rule applies here as in case of family misfortune or bereavement, that if persons suffering the affliction wish it mentioned, they will speak of it first themselves. to do as we would be done by is the rule of real politeness in all these cases. if an accident happens to persons or their dress, or if their dress is out of order, if we can give assistance we should do so in a quiet way without attracting attention; if we cannot be of use, we should take no notice of the misfortune. the same principle of good-breeding will keep us from laughing at mistakes or accidents. to exchange glances with another, to whisper, or to laugh unless others know what we are laughing at, is even ruder than to stare, and no one who is polite will do these things. in company is not the place to tell secrets or carry on personal or private conversation. we should see that our dress is in order before we enter the room, and then neither think nor speak of it. to look in the glass, smooth one's gloves and laces, or play with rings or chain, seems like calling attention to our dress, and is in bad taste. it would seem unnecessary here or anywhere to say that attention to finger-nails, which is a matter of the toilet for one's chamber, is inexcusable, if we did not sometimes see persons in the presence of others take out pocket-knives for this purpose. it is a common saying that people unused to society do not know what to do with their hands and feet. the best direction that can be given is to do nothing. let them take easy positions of themselves, and think no more about them. to sit still gracefully is an accomplishment worth acquiring, and it should be studied by boys and girls as well as grown people. the necessity for it comes so often in life that we should learn to do it well. we should not sit on the edge or corner of a chair, or tilt it backward or forward. drumming with the fingers on tables or chairs, rocking rapidly back and forth, or looking out of the window, as if we were more interested in things outside than in those in the room, should never be done. it is well said that "if in company we are absent in mind, we had better be absent in body." "forget yourself" is one of the best and broadest precepts of good behavior; but we should never forget others. it is often our duty in society to introduce persons to each other, and we should study to do this gracefully. it is said of alice cary that she had such a happy way of giving introductions as to make each person feel specially honored. we should introduce a gentleman to a lady, saying, "mr. smith, miss jones," if we use this simplest form of introduction, and not "miss jones, mr. smith," as is often done. we should introduce a younger person to an older, unless it be one of our own family, when, "my aunt, mrs. brown, miss jones," is proper. we should introduce strangers to each other at the table and elsewhere before they have time to feel awkward at not being able to speak. great pains should be taken to pronounce distinctly the names of those introduced. too often each person hears only his own. we should speak of people as mr., mrs., or miss, except with intimate friends, giving particular titles when proper, and never allude to any one as "old smith," or "old miss jones." to make ill-natured remarks about the absent shows a want of good-breeding as well as good feeling. no one should make himself conspicuous in company by loud laughing and talking. to make remarks intended to be overheard, especially remarks meant to be funny, is clownish,--and to be a society clown is a very low ambition. we must not interrupt one who is speaking, and must pay attention to remarks addressed to the company. if a person is speaking to us we ought to listen attentively, even if we are not interested, and not hurt his feelings by letting our eyes wander from him or showing other signs of impatience. a good listener is as welcome in society as a good talker, and often more so, because every one who talks likes to be listened to with appreciative attention. those who have read "the wide, wide world" will remember an instance of little ellen montgomery's good-breeding in this respect, when she was visiting at ventnor. "ellen is a fascinating child," said mrs. gillespie, "i cannot comprehend where she gets the manners she has. i never saw a more perfectly polite little girl." "i have noticed the same thing often," said miss sophia. "did you observe her last night when john humphreys came in? you were talking to her at the moment. before the door was opened, i saw her color come and her eyes sparkle, but she did not look towards him for an instant till you had finished what you were saying to her, and she had given, as she always does, her modest, quiet answer, and then her eye went straight as an arrow to where he was standing." when any one is reading aloud, playing, or singing, we ought to give him the same close attention we would wish to receive if we were in his place. talking or moving about at such times is unpardonably rude, and also looking at the clock as if we were impatient for the performer to finish. we should never interrupt with questions or remarks a person engaged in reading or writing, and to look over the shoulder of one so employed is impertinent. if letters are brought to us, we should not open and read them in company unless they require immediate attention, when we should ask to be excused for doing so. we should give interested attention to books, pictures, views, or games shown us for our entertainment, and express pleasure and admiration when we can with truth. if an article or a letter is given us to read, we should not hand it back without remark, or begin to read something else, as is often done by people who ought to know better, but we should thank the one who showed it to us, speak of it politely, and if there is anything about it we can commend, do so. if we have occasion to make an inquiry of a stranger, we should preface it with, "excuse me," "pardon me," or, "i beg your pardon," unless we use the simpler form, "will you please tell me," in beginning our question. it is ill-bred to contradict, especially if the one addressed be an older person. if a person says in our hearing that the lecture was given thursday evening, when it was really wednesday, or that miss green was at the concert with miss white when we know that miss gray was her companion, it is not our place to embarrass the speaker by setting him right. if we are appealed to, or if there is good reason why we should correct the statement, we should do so politely, with an apology for the correction. we ought to be willing in company to contribute our share to the general entertainment. unless we are willing to give as well as receive, we had better stay at home. it is ill-mannered to read aloud, sing, or play to others unless we are invited to do so; but if a request is made, it is much more polite and agreeable to the company for us to comply cheerfully, and do the best we can, than to wait for much urging and then to burden the listeners with apologies before we begin. if we do not feel able to do what is asked of us, we should politely but positively decline at first. if games are proposed, unless there is some good reason for our doing so, it is not polite to decline taking part, saying, "i will see the rest play." if all did this, nobody would be entertained. it is much more the part of good manners to enter heartily into the amusement of the hour, and do our best to make it a success. it is this spirit of readiness to help on things that makes useful members of society, and the more earnestly boys and girls cultivate it the more fit they will be for their duties as citizens. we ought not to be content to be ciphers anywhere. as significant figures, we shall be of more value in the world, be happier ourselves, and make others happier. lesson viii. outline for blackboard manners at church. _punctuality._ _manner of entering._ _courtesy toward ladies._ _courtesy toward strangers._ _whispering, laughing, and moving about._ _dress at church._ _turning the head to see who comes in._ _attention to the service._ _dropping hymn-books._ _manner of leaving._ lesson viii. manners at church. we should try never to be late at church; it is a disrespect to the place and the worship; it breaks in upon the service, takes the attention of people from it, and disturbs the minister. if we are late, we must not go in during prayer time, but wait near the door. we should enter a church quietly and soberly. boys should be as particular as gentlemen to remove their hats at the door, not half-way up the aisle, and to open the pew door for ladies to pass in first. if they are in the pew beforehand, they should rise and pass out for ladies to enter. when a seat is given us in a strange church, we should not take it without acknowledgment. we should welcome strangers to our pew, hand them a book with the place found, and invite them to come again. if we notice any one near us who cannot find the hymn or place to read, we should quietly pass him our open book. it is worse to whisper or laugh in church than anywhere else, for it is not only ill-bred but irreverent. we should avoid moving about in our pews, looking around at people, opening or shutting books, and whatever disturbs the quiet of the place. it is not in good taste to wear much jewelry at church, or showy articles of any kind that will attract attention. a house of worship is no place for striking effects in costume, such as might be proper at a party or place of amusement. we often see persons in church turn their heads whenever the door is opened, to see who is coming in. such a disregard of good manners well deserved the rebuke it received once from a scotch minister, who, annoyed by this habit, astonished his congregation one sunday morning by announcing to them the name of each late comer as he entered. if we cannot give respectful attention to the service, we had better stay at home, and not disturb those who go to church to worship. the clergyman is often annoyed by the dropping of hymn-books or prayer-books noisily into the rack, especially at the close of the last hymn, when he is waiting to pronounce the benediction. this might be done as well and better without any noise whatever. it is rude in the extreme to seize hats and rush for the door as soon as the last word is said, or to engage at once in idle chatter and laughter. there should be a reverent pause, and then we should pass slowly and quietly down the aisle. it is ill-bred to seem in haste to be gone. unless we can sit through the service with patience, we should not attend it. looking at the clock or taking out one's watch during service comes under the same condemnation as leaving with unbecoming haste at the close. lesson ix. outline for blackboard. manners at places of amusement. _punctuality._ _finding seats._ _waiting with quietness._ _gazing about and making criticisms._ _talking and laughing,--story._ _looking at watches and clocks._ _applause._ _doing fancy work._ _courtesy to others._ _time and manner of leaving._ lesson ix. manners at places of amusement. when we attend a lecture, concert, or other entertainment, we should go in season: to enter after the performance begins is a discourtesy to the performers and an annoyance to every person in the audience. if we are obliged to be late, we should wait for a favorable time, and then be seated quickly and quietly. when there is a choice of seats we have a right to take the best that remain when we arrive; but this right offers no excuse for us to push and elbow other people, or to obtain such seats by crowding others aside. it is better to have the poorest seat in the house or none at all than to sacrifice good manners and self-respect. we often see disgraceful exhibitions of selfishness at entertainments on the part of people who pride themselves at home and in company on their politeness. if we are too early, or if there is delay in commencing, we should wait with well-bred quietness. nothing marks more surely the ill-bred person than noisy demonstrations of impatience at waiting. this is one of the occasions to practise the graceful sitting still which has been spoken of in the lesson on manners in society. it is not polite to gaze at those around us, still less to make remarks about them or their dress. loud talking and laughing, and all conduct calculated to make ourselves conspicuous, should be avoided. the people who attract attention in these ways will be likely to eat candy, nuts, and popped corn while the exercises are going on, and to violate propriety in other ways. whispering during a performance is an offence against good manners; yet it is surprising how common the offence is. school children know how the visitors on examination days often talk to each other throughout the exercises, to the great disturbance of the whole school as well as the teacher, and this recollection ought to make them more careful to avoid the impoliteness themselves. many people seem to attend places of amusement for the sole purpose of talking with their friends. they will hold long discussions upon dress, cooking, and family matters, as if no music or speaking were in progress, and as if no one else cared to hear more than they. if we do not go to a concert to hear the music, we have no right there; and the same is true at all public entertainments. it is related of margaret fuller that at one of jenny lind's concerts her evening's enjoyment was destroyed by some rude young people who whispered incessantly, laughed at each other's foolish jokes, and paid no attention to the wonderful music. at the close of the concert she sent for the young girl whose behavior had been most noticeable to come to her. the girl was much flattered by the request from so distinguished a person, though she was at a loss to account for it. as she appeared with an air of pleased curiosity, margaret fuller said to her, "i hope that never again in your life will you be the cause of so much annoyance and pain to any one as you have been to me this evening." it is to be hoped that this rebuke, with the good advice given with it to this thoughtless girl, was a lesson in good manners which she and her companions never forgot. to take out one's watch or to turn the head to look at the clock is like saying we are impatient to go, and must be disturbing to the speaker. if it is necessary for us to look at a watch, we should do so without its being seen, and should stifle in our pockets the click of shutting it. it is rude to applaud noisily: we can be enthusiastic in applause without being boisterous. some ladies have a habit of carrying fancy work to places of amusement. if they knit or crochet before the performance begins, it is a foolish parade of industry which is probably not carried out at home; but if they continue the occupation after one begins to sing or speak or read, it is impertinent, and extremely annoying to the speaker. it seems like saying that his words are not worthy of undivided attention, but are of so little consequence that one can take in their meaning and beauty while counting stitches and studying patterns. we should be mindful of little courtesies to those near us, such as handing our programme or opera-glass to one who has none. if a question is asked about the performance, we should answer with cordial politeness and cheerfully give any information we can. we should never leave the hall while the performance is going on. it is, like coming in late, an affront to the performers and to the audience. usually, if we cannot stay until the close, we should stay away. if there is any urgent reason, such as taking a train, for our leaving before the close, we should do so between the parts of a performance, and as noiselessly as possible. when we stay to the end we should remain seated and give our attention until the last word is uttered. the speaker usually keeps his best effort for the close, and he should not be embarrassed, or those listening be disturbed, by the confusion of preparations for departure. to reach the door a minute or two sooner, or to get the best seats in a car, is not worth the rudeness it requires. we shall never be guilty of it if we only apply the golden rule and consider how we should feel in the speaker's place. lesson x. outline for blackboard. manners in stores and similar public places. _shutting doors._ _how to ask for articles in stores._ _making trouble for clerks._ _handling goods._ _finding fault with articles or prices._ _courtesy to other customers._ _courtesy to clerks._ _conduct in the post-office,--entering in crowds, not waiting for others, noise and rudeness._ _visiting railroad stations._ _two things to consider._ lesson x. manners in stores and similar public places. on entering or leaving a store in cold weather we should consider the comfort of those behind the counters and shut the door, if there is no one whose business it is to do it for us. we ought to state clearly and definitely what we want to buy, and patiently explain if the clerk, through inexperience or dulness, does not at first understand our request. a good supply of patience and politeness is needed in shopping, and a true lady or gentleman will not lose temper or forget good manners, even if a clerk is impertinent or disobliging. we should not make unnecessary trouble for clerks by asking them to take down and unfold piece after piece of goods for us to examine, if we have no intention of buying. many ladies do this habitually, because they enjoy it, and then wonder that the clerks are not more polite. if we wish merely to examine before buying at some future time, it is better to say so, and then the merchant or clerk will not be disappointed if we do not purchase. we should handle delicate fabrics in stores as carefully as if they were our own, and not tumble them over, leaving ribbons and laces in tangled heaps, especially if we do not buy. we should not find fault with the quality of articles. if we are not satisfied, it is enough to say that the goods do not suit us, without making disparaging remarks to the clerk, who has no responsibility in the matter. it is a sign of ignorance and ill-breeding to haggle over the price of a thing and try to induce the seller to take less for it. in oriental countries, it is said, the dealer always asks at first four times the price he expects to receive, but in our country this is not customary, and the price stated is supposed to be fair and final. if we think the article is not worth the price, or if it is beyond our means, it is best to say we do not wish to pay so much and leave it. if the dealer can afford to sell it cheaper, and will do so for the sake of our buying, it is his place to offer it for less, not ours to ask. if he asks more than a thing is worth, hoping to take advantage of our need of it or our ignorance, he ought to be punished by our refusal to buy. we should wait our turn at a counter and regard the convenience of others as well as ourselves. it is not polite to demand the attention of a clerk who is waiting upon another customer, or to take up what another is looking at. if we are in great haste, and customers who seem to have plenty of time are at the counter before us, we may sometimes ask their permission to be waited on while they are looking at goods, apologizing for doing so. if we are sitting at a counter, we should politely give our seat to an older lady, or to one who looks weary. if a clerk takes uncommon pains to please us, or puts himself to more trouble than we have a right to expect, we must not forget to thank him. if customers are polite and considerate, they seldom have reason to complain of those behind the counter. the same is true at post-offices, railroad stations, and wherever we are served by others. these general principles of politeness in stores can be applied in all similar public places. the post-office is often the scene of most unmannerly conduct on the part of boys and girls, especially just after the close of school, when they all rush in for letters. instead of quietly walking up to the window, one at a time, the boys giving way to the girls when there is but one place of delivery, and both boys and girls waiting for older people, they are apt to go in by dozens, crowding to the window and clamoring for their letters, making themselves extremely annoying to all grown people present. we should say, "i would like a dozen stamps, if you please," or, "please weigh this letter," rather than, "i want a dozen stamps," or, "weigh this letter, will you?" the post-office is a place of business, like a store or a bank. our only object in going there is to mail or receive letters, which we should do like any other business,--in a quiet, respectable manner. no one has a right to stand around in the way of others, or to make it a place of idle resort. no well-bred person, even a child, will indulge in loud laughing and talking, staring at or making remarks about people, or other conspicuous behavior here or in any public resort. a railroad station is also a place of business, and unless it is necessary for us to go there, we had better stay away. in small towns it is quite a fashion for boys and girls to go to the station "to see the cars come in"; but it is not improving to their manners or morals. if they could realize, especially the girls, how out of place they appear standing on platforms, where they have no occasion to be, jostled by passengers and baggage-men, and exposed to the rude remarks of passers-by, they would never go there unnecessarily. in all public places we should consider, in reference to our conduct, two things: first, the courtesy we owe to others; and second, the respect we owe to ourselves. lesson xi. outline for blackboard. manners in travelling. _politeness in the waiting-room._ _buying a ticket._ _getting on and off the cars._ _obtaining and occupying seats._ _offering seats to ladies._ _leaving seats temporarily._ _talking, laughing, and eating._ _taking a seat with another._ _courtesy toward officials._ _courtesy toward fellow-travellers._ _conduct if delays occur._ _behavior at places for refreshment._ _a french boy's politeness in travelling._ lesson xi. manners in travelling. before we fairly begin the journey we want to consider what belongs to good manners at the station. if the waiting-room is crowded, and there are not seats for all, the young ought cheerfully to give place to older people, especially to old ladies and to mothers with little children in their arms. there is often opportunity here to show little courtesies to others which may brighten their whole day. to amuse a fretful child for a few moments, or bring it a glass of water when the mother cannot leave other children to do it, or to find the baggage-master and get a trunk checked for a nervous old lady, is a small thing in itself, but it may be more welcome to the receiver under the circumstances than a far greater favor at another time. the comfort or discomfort of a journey is made up of just such small things. when the ticket window is opened there is no need for us to rush to it or to push aside any one else. time is given for all to buy their tickets comfortably. we ought, if possible, to hand the exact price of the ticket, and not take the ticket-seller's time to change large bills. for the same reason we should ask for the ticket in the briefest sentence we can frame, and if a question is necessary, put it in the most business-like manner, and thank him for the information given. we should not attempt to get on the cars while others are getting off: it hinders them and ourselves, and nothing is gained by such unbecoming haste. the much-ridiculed american hurry is well illustrated by a company of people crowding up the steps while another company is crowding down. when we leave the cars it is better to wait until they come to a full stop before rising from our seats. we shall be likely to get out as soon as if we went swaying down the aisle, crowding other people, and in danger of falling headlong when the train finally stops. what has been said about obtaining seats at places of amusement applies to seats in cars as well. those who come first have the first choice; but we should not forget good manners in the choosing. we have no right to more room than we pay for, and, unless there are plenty of unoccupied seats, it is rude and selfish to spread out our parcels and wraps so as to discourage any one from asking to sit beside us; yet a well-dressed woman, with her possessions unconcernedly arranged on a seat facing her, ignoring the fact that others are standing in the aisle, is not an uncommon spectacle. courtesy in the cars or in a coach is as binding on us as courtesy in the parlor, and never, perhaps, is it better appreciated than by tired travellers. good-breeding does not require a gentleman or a boy to offer his seat to any lady who is standing, but he should never fail to do it to an old lady or one with a child in her arms, or one with an inconvenient package; and it is pleasant to see that fine politeness which prompts its possessor to treat every lady as he would wish his mother or sister treated. a lady should not accept such a civility in silence. we too often see her drop into a seat which a gentleman rises to offer as if it were her right, without a word or even a bow of acknowledgment. such a person has no right to expect a similar courtesy the second time. if any one leaves his seat for a time without leaving any piece of property in it to show that it belongs to him, he cannot lawfully claim it on returning; but civility should prevent any one from taking it, if he knows it belongs to another. in travelling, as everywhere in public, noisy conversation and the "loud laugh that speaks the vacant mind" are offensive to good taste. constant eating of fruit and peanuts is bad manners, and, as has been said before, it is generally associated with loud talking and laughing and other rude behavior. on long journeys it is necessary to eat luncheons or even regular meals, but this, done in a well-bred way, is a very different thing from the continual eating indulged in by a certain class of travellers. we should not sit down beside another without asking if the seat is engaged. if a person asks to sit beside us, we should assent with cordiality, not sullenly gather up our bundles, as we often see people do, impatient at having their selfish ease disturbed. it is polite for a gentleman to offer a lady the seat next the window. we ought to have our ticket ready when the conductor comes around, and not keep him waiting while we hunt for it in bag or pocket. if a brakeman raises a window or shuts a door for us, we should thank him; and it is polite to thank the train boy who passes us water. we need not be ill-natured because he puts a magazine or prize package in our lap every half-hour. it is not an uncivil thing to do, and it is just as easy for us to receive it civilly, and say in a pleasant tone that we do not care for it, as to add one more snappish answer to the many given him in the course of a day. we should be watchful of occasions to show politeness to our fellow-travellers. there may be an old lady not accustomed to travelling, anxious and uneasy, to whom we can be of use. we can ask where she is going, and take the burden off her mind by saying, "i will tell you when we come to it." a gentlemanly boy will not see a lady trying to open or shut a window or reverse a seat without offering to do it for her, any more than a gentleman would. we should be patient in answering questions, especially from old people. if we are passing objects of interest with which we are familiar, it is polite to speak of them to a stranger sitting near. if we were journeying in the white mountain region and were well acquainted with it, a stranger by our side would like to know the names of the different peaks, and to have the historic willey house pointed out to him. one cheerful, obliging person will add to the comfort of the whole company. if delays occur on the way, and long periods of waiting, as often happen, we should be patient and cheerful over the matter ourselves, and thus help others to be so. good-nature is contagious at such times. it is of no use to tire the conductor and brakemen with repeated questions: they are rarely responsible for the delay, which is more vexatious to them than to us. places for refreshment on a journey, with the brief time usually allowed, afford opportunities to show one's good or ill breeding. it would be better to have no lunch than to struggle for the best place and loudly demand attention, to the exclusion of others. to bring a cup of tea to an old lady, or to the mother who cannot leave her baby to get it herself, is a slight thing for us to do, but it may be a great favor to them. in an article on the politeness of french children as compared with boys and girls in america, the writer illustrates what he is saying in this way:-- "i was travelling in a compartment with a little french boy of twelve, the age at which american children, as a rule, deserve killing for their rudeness and general disagreeableness. i sat between him and the open window, and he was eating pears. now most boys in our country of that age would either have dropped the cores upon the floor or tossed them out of the window, without regard to anybody. but this small gentleman, every time, with a 'permit me, sir,' said in the most pleasant way, rose and came to the window and dropped them out, and then with a 'thanks, sir,' quietly took his seat. french children do not take favors as a matter of course and unacknowledged. and when in his seat, if an elderly person came in, he was the very first to rise and offer his place, if it were in the slightest degree more comfortable than another; and the good-nature with which he insisted on the new-comer's taking it was delightful to see." the writer goes on to say that this was not an exceptional boy, but a fair type of the average french child, and his conduct was a sample of what might be seen anywhere, even among the ragged boys of the street. the reason for this state of things is given in the opening sentences of the article:-- "politeness, with the french, is a matter of education as well as nature. the french child is taught that lesson from the beginning of its existence, and it is made a part of its life. it is the one thing that is never forgotten, and the lack of it never forgiven." lesson xii. outline for blackboard. manners in borrowing. _care of borrowed articles._ _what not to borrow._ _how to return a book._ _returning an equivalent._ _promptness in returning,--anecdote._ lesson xii. manners in borrowing. it is an old saying, "he that goes borrowing goes sorrowing"; but it might often be more truly said of the one to whom the borrower goes. we should be more careful of a borrowed article than if it were our own. if we are so unfortunate as to injure or lose it, we should replace it, if it can be done; if not, make the best possible apology. we have no right to lend a borrowed thing to an other without the owner's permission. perhaps nothing is treated in this way oftener than a book. people who consider themselves honest and just will lend a borrowed book to half a neighborhood, and if it is defaced or lost will give themselves no concern about it. it is not polite to borrow a garment to wear except of a relative or intimate friend. neither is it good manners to ask for a garment or pattern to cut one by for ourselves: the owner may prefer not to have it copied. if a person admires a garment or pattern belonging to us, and we are willing to lend it, it is our place to offer it without its being asked for. if a book or article to read is lent us, we should read it promptly, and when we return it say whatever pleasant things we can of it with truth. to send it back without expressing an opinion, or making acknowledgment of the kindness, is inexcusable. if we borrow something which is not to be returned itself, but its equivalent, we should be careful to return what is of as good or better quality, and as much in quantity, if not a little more, to make up for the trouble of the one who lends to us. it is not polite to keep a borrowed article long; and if a time for returning it is specified, we should be careful not to neglect doing it when the time comes. if possible, we should return it ourselves, not give it to the owner to carry home or send it by another; and we should never omit to thank the lender. to compel the owner to send for his property is a gross violation of good manners on the part of the borrower. the owner should not send unless he feels that he can wait no longer, or unless the borrower is habitually careless and needs to be taught a lesson. "i never ask a gentleman to return money he has borrowed," said one man to another. "how then do you get it?" asked his friend. "after a while," was the answer, "i conclude he is not a gentleman, and then i ask him." this reasoning will apply in case of lending other things as well as money. when we lend we should do so with cordial politeness and not spoil the favor by the half-hearted way in which we offer or grant it; but borrowing should be regarded as a necessary evil, to be resorted to only when it cannot well be avoided. the habitual borrower is a burden to society. historical books * * * * * * * * for young people _=young folks' history of the united states=_ by thomas wentworth higginson. illustrated. $ . . the story of our country in the most reliable and interesting form. as a story-book it easily leads all other american history stories in interest, while as a text-book for the study of history it is universally admitted to be the best. _=young folks' book of american explorers=_ by thomas wentworth higginson. uniform with the "young folks' history of the united states." one volume, fully illustrated. price $ . . "it is not a history told in the third person, nor an historical novel for young folks, where the author supposes the chief characters to have thought and said such and such things under such and such circumstances; but it is the genuine description given by the persons who experienced the things they described in letters written home."--_montpelier journal._ _=the nation in a nutshell=_ by george makepeace towle, author of "heroes of history," "young folks' history of england," "young folks' history of ireland," etc. price cents. "to tell the story of a nation like ours in a nutshell, requires a peculiar faculty for selecting, condensing, and philosophizing. the brevity with which he relates the principal events in american history, does not detract from the charming interest of the narrative style."--_public opinion._ _=young people's history of england=_ by george makepeace towle. cloth, illustrated. $ . . "the whole narrative is made interesting and attractive--in every way what a book of this kind should be in its clearness of statement, freshness of style, and its telling of the right ways."--_critic._ _=handbook of english history=_ based on "lectures on english history," by the late m. j. guest, and brought down to the year . with a supplementary chapter on the english literature of the th century. by f. h. underwood, ll.d. with maps, chronological table, etc. $ . . "it approaches nearer perfection than anything in the line we have seen. it is succinct, accurate, and delightful."--_hartford evening post._ _=young people's history of ireland=_ by george makepeace towle, author of "young people's history of england," "young folks' heroes of history," etc. with an introduction by john boyle o'reilly. cloth, illustrated. $ . . "the history is like a novel, increasing in interest to the very end, and terminating at the most interesting period of the whole; and the reader lays down the book a moment in enthusiastic admiration for a people who have endured so much, and yet have retained so many admirable characteristics."--_n.y. world._ * * * * * _sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price_ =lee and shepard publishers boston= =books for girlhood by popular authors= =an american girl abroad.= by adeline f. trafton. mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . one of the most bright, chatty, wide-awake books of travel ever written. it abounds with information, is as pleasant reading as a story book, and full of the wit and sparkle of "an american girl" let loose from school and ready for a frolic. =only girls.= by virginia f. townsend, author of "that queer girl," &c., &c. mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . "it is a thrilling story, written in a fascinating style, and the plot is adroitly handled." it might be placed in any sabbath school library, so pure is it in tone, and yet it is so free from the mawkishness and silliness that mar the class of books usually found there, that the veteran novel reader is apt to finish it at a sitting. =the doctor's daughter.= by sophie may, author of "our helen," "the asbury twins," &c. mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . "a delightful book, original and enjoyable," says the _brownville echo_. "a fascinating story, unfolding, with artistic touch, the young life of one of our impulsive, sharp-witted, transparent and pure-minded girls of the nineteenth century," says _the contributor_, boston. =sally williams.= the mountain girl. by mrs. edna d. cheney, author of "patience," "social games," "the child of the tide," &c. mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . pure, strong, healthy, just what might be expected from the pen of so gifted a writer as mrs. cheney. a very interesting picture of life among the new hampshire hills, enlivened by the tangle of a story of the ups and downs of every-day life in this out-of-the-way locality. the characters introduced are quaintly original, and the adventures are narrated with remarkable skill. =lottie eames.= =or, do your best and leave the rest.= by a popular author. mo, illus. $ . . "a wholesome story of home life, full of lessons of self-sacrifice, but always bright and attractive in its varied incidents." =rhoda thornton's girlhood.= by mrs. mary e. pratt. mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . a hearty and healthy story, dealing with young folks and home scenes, with sleighing, fishing and other frolics to make things lively. * * * * * _the above six volumes are furnished in a handsome box, for $ . , or sold separately by all booksellers, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price by_ =lee and shepard=, publishers boston books for young ladies by popular authors =seven daughters.= by miss a. m. douglas, author of "in trust," "stephen dane," "claudia," "sydnie adriance," "home nook," "nelly kennard's kingdom." mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . "a charming romance of girlhood," full of incident and humor. the "seven daughters" are characters which reappear in some of miss douglas' later books. in this book they form a delightful group, hovering on the verge of womanhood, with all the little perplexities of home life and love dreams as incidentals, making a fresh and attractive story. =our helen.= by sophie may. mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . "the story is a very attractive one, as free from the sensational and impossible as could be desired, and at the same time full of interest, and pervaded by the same bright, cheery sunshine that we find in the author's earlier books. she is to be congratulated on the success of her essay in a new field of literature, to which she will be warmly welcomed by those who know and admire her 'prudy books.'"--_graphic._ =the asbury twins.= by sophie may, author of "the doctor's daughter," "our helen," &c. mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . "has the ring of genuine genius, and the sparkle of a gem of the first water. we read it one cloudy winter day, and it was as good as a turkish bath, or a three hours' soak in the sunshine."--_cooperstown republican._ =that queer girl.= by miss virginia f. townsend, author of "only girls," &c. mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . queer only in being unconventional, brave and frank, an "old-fashioned girl," and very sweet and charming. as indicated in the title, is a little out of the common track, and the wooing and the winning are as queer as the heroine. the _new haven register_ says: "decidedly the best work which has appeared from the pen of miss townsend." =running to waste.= the story of a tomboy. by george m. baker. mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . "this book is one of the most entertaining we have read for a long time. it is well written, full of humor, and good humor, and it has not a dull or uninteresting page. it is lively and natural, and overflowing with the best new england character and traits. there is also a touch of pathos, which always accompanies humor, in the life and death of the tomboy's mother."--_newburyport herald._ =daisy travers:= =or the girls of hive hall.= by adelaide f. samuels, author of "dick and daisy stories," "dick travers abroad," &c. mo, cloth, illustrated. $ . . the story of hive hall is full of life and action, and told in the same happy style which made the earlier life of its heroine so attractive, and caused the dick and daisy books to become great favorites with the young. what was said of the younger books can, with equal truth, be said of daisy grown up. * * * * * _the above six books are furnished in a handsome box for $ . , or sold separate, by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price._ =lee and shepard publishers boston= lee and shepard's "classics for popular * thirty cent * home and school" price cents net by mail cents for third, fourth and fifth years in school =miss west's class in geography= by miss sparhawk =lessons on manners= by miss wiggin =natural history plays= by louisa parsons hopkins young folks' pictures and stories of animals =pictures and stories of quadrupeds= } by =pictures and stories of birds= } mrs. =pictures and stories of fishes and reptiles= } sanborn tenney =pictures and stories of bees and other insects= } =pictures and stories of sea and river shells= } with =pictures and stories of sea-urchins and corals= } illustrations =i. simple poems and easy rhymes= } edited by professor =ii. select poetry for school and home= } campbell paper c =iii. choice poetry for school and home= } _net_, boards c. _net_ =a kiss for a blow= by henry clarke wright =child's book of health= by dr. blaisdell for fourth and fifth years in school =robinson crusoe= arranged for schools by w. t. adams =arabian nights' entertainments= (=selections=) arranged for schools by dr. eliot, formerly superintendent boston schools =stories from american history= by n. s. dodge =the boston tea-party and other stories of the revolution= relating many daring deeds of the old heroes by h. c. watson for fifth and sixth years in school =noble deeds of our fathers= as told by soldiers of the revolution gathered around the old bell of independence by h. c. watson =the flower people= (child's talk with the flowers) by mrs. horace mann =the nation in a nutshell= by george makepeace towle =short studies of american authors= by t. w. higginson * * * * * these books are well made, good print and paper, strongly bound in boards, with many illustrations, and of an exceedingly interesting character. they are in use for supplementary reading in hundreds of schools in various parts of the country. new volumes will be added to this list from time to time, the object being to furnish good reading for home and school at a low price. for other supplementary readings see the page headed "popular reading for home and school by popular authors." =lee and shepard publishers boston= bright and breezy books of travel by six bright women =a winter in central america and mexico= by helen j. sanborn. cloth, $ . . "a bright, attractive narrative by a wide-awake boston girl." =a summer in the azores, with a glimpse of madeira= by miss c. alice baker. little classic style. cloth, gilt edges, $ . . "miss baker gives us a breezy, entertaining description of these picturesque islands. she is an observing traveller, and makes a graphic picture of the quaint people and customs."--_chicago advance._ =life at puget sound= with sketches of travel in washington territory, british columbia, oregon, and california. by caroline c. leighton. mo, cloth, $ . . "your chapters on puget sound have charmed me. full of life, deeply interesting, and with just that class of facts, and suggestions of truth, that cannot fail to help the indian and the chinese."--wendell phillips. =european breezes= by margery deans. cloth, gilt top, $ . . being chapters of travel through germany, austria, hungary, and switzerland, covering places not usually visited by americans in making "the grand tour of the continent," by the accomplished writer of "newport breezes." "a very bright, fresh and amusing account, which tells us about a host of things we never heard of before, and is worth two ordinary books of european travel."--_woman's journal._ =beaten paths; or, a woman's vacation in europe= by ella w. thompson. mo, cloth. $ . . a lively and chatty book of travel, with pen-pictures humorous and graphic, that are decidedly out of the "beaten paths" of description. =an american girl abroad= by miss adeline trafton, author of "his inheritance," "katherine earle," etc. mo. illustrated. $ . . "a sparkling account of a european trip by a wide-awake, intelligent, and irrepressible american girl. pictured with a freshness and vivacity that is delightful."--_utica observer._ _=curtis guild's travels=_ =britons and muscovites; or, traits of two empires= cloth, $ . . =over the ocean; or, sights and scenes in foreign lands= by curtis guild, editor of "the boston commercial bulletin" crown vo. cloth, $ . . "the utmost that any european tourist can hope to do is to tell the old story in a somewhat fresh way, and mr. guild has succeeded in every part of his book in doing this."--_philadelphia bulletin._ =abroad again; or, fresh forays in foreign fields= uniform with "over the ocean." by the same author. crown vo. cloth, $ . . "he has given us a life-picture. europe is done in a style that must serve as an invaluable guide to those who go 'over the ocean,' as well as an interesting companion."--_halifax citizen._ * * * * * _sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price_ =lee and shepard publishers boston= popular reading for home and school by popular authors jane andrews' books =the stories mother nature told her children= illustrated school edition cloth cents library edition cloth cents =the seven little sisters who live on the round ball that floats in the air= new edition, with an introduction by louisa parsons hopkins illustrated school edition cloth cents library edition cloth cents =the seven little sisters prove their sisterhood= =(former title each and all)= illustrated school edition cloth cents library edition cloth cents =ten boys who lived on the road from long ago to now= illustrations cloth cents =geographical plays for young folks at school and at home= price each play in paper cents postage paid united states europe asia africa and south america australia and isles of the sea the commerce of the world the above bound in one volume cloth $ . postage paid * * * * * =graded supplementary reading= for use in schools by professor tweed, late supervisor of boston public schools parts ready: nos. , , and , st year primary; nos , , and , d year primary; nos. , , and , d year primary in brown paper covers cents each; by mail cents the four parts for each year bound together in boards cents each first year primary in one volume boards cents second year primary in one volume boards cents third year primary in one volume boards cents historical readings =young folks' history of the united states= by thomas wentworth higginson with over illustrations $ . =young folks' book of american explorers= by thomas wentworth higginson illustrated $ . =handbook of english history= based on guest's "lectures on english history," and brought down to the year with a supplementary chapter on the english literature of the th century by f. h. underwood, ll.d. with maps, chronological tables etc. school edition cents =young people's history of england= by george makepeace towle illustrated school edition cents =young people's history of ireland= by george makepeace towle with introduction by john boyle o'reilly illustrated school edition cents =heroes of history= by george makepeace towle illustrated vasco de gama: his voyages and adventures school edition cents pizarro: his adventures and conquests school edition cents magellan: or the first voyage round the world school edition cents marco polo: his travels and adventures school edition cents raleigh: his voyages and adventures school edition cents drake the sea king of devon school edition cents =the story of our country= by mrs. l. b. monroe cents _net prices_ ten per cent additional by mail or express prepaid =lee and shepard publishers boston= english as it should * * be written * * handbooks for all lovers of correct language neatly bound in cloth cents each =_mistakes in writing english and how to avoid them_= for the use of all who teach, write, or speak the language. by marshall t. bigelow, author of "punctuation and other typographical matters." =_punctuation and other typographical matters_= for the use of printers, authors, teachers, and scholars. by marshall t. bigelow, corrector at the university press, cambridge. =_ blunders in english_= a handbook of suggestions in reading and speaking. by harlan h. ballard, a.m., principal of lenox academy, lenox, mass. =_hints and helps_= for those who write, print, or read. by benjamin drew. =_english synonymes discriminated_= by rev. richard whately, d.d., the archbishop of dublin. a new edition. =_soule & campbell's pronouncing handbook_= of words often mispronounced, and of words as to which a choice of pronunciation is allowed. , mistakes in pronunciation corrected. =_campbell's handbook of english synonymes_= with an appendix showing the correct uses of prepositions. =_hints on language_= in connection with sight reading and writing in primary and intermediate schools. by s. arthur bent, a.m., superintendent of public schools, clinton, mass. =_forgotten meanings_= or, an hour with the dictionary. by alfred waites, author of "student's historical manual." =_short studies of american authors_= by thomas wentworth higginson, author of "young folks' history of the united states," "young folks' american explorers," "malbone," "outdoor papers," "oldport days," "army life in a black regiment," "atlantic essays," etc. =_hints on writing and speech-making_= by thomas wentworth higginson. =_universal phonography_= or, shorthand by the "allen method." a self-instructor, whereby more speed than long-hand writing is gained at the first lesson, and additional speed at each subsequent lesson. by g. g. allen, principal of the allen stenographic institute, boston. * * * * * _sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price_ =lee and shepard publishers boston= advanced elocutionary books =advanced readings and recitations= by austin b. fletcher a.m. ll.b. late professor of oratory brown university and boston university school of law. this book has been already adopted in a large number of universities, colleges, post-graduate schools of law and theology, seminaries, etc. $ . "professor fletcher's noteworthy compilation has been made with rare rhetorical judgment, and evinces a sympathy for the best forms of literature, adapted to attract readers and speakers, and mould their literary taste."--professor j. w. churchill, _andover theological seminary_. =the book of eloquence= a collection of extracts in prose and verse from the most famous orators and poets by charles dudley warner $ . "what can be said that is more eloquent praise than that charles dudley warner has carefully selected three hundred and sixty-four specimens of the choicest things from the world's literature? if there is any subject untouched, we fail to discover it. it is a compendium of the world's eloquence. it is useless to tell who is in here, for everybody is; and it is clear that mr. warner has made his extracts with great care. it has the most eloquence ever packed into twice as many pages." =vocal and action language, culture and expression= new edition by e. n. kirby instructor in elocution in boston university by mail cents. "this is a treatise, at once scientific and practical, on the theory and art of elocution. it treats of the structure of the vocal organs, of vocal culture and expression, of action-language, gesticulation, the use of the body and hands in oratory, etc. there is also a well-arranged collection of extracts for elocution. the work is well adapted for use as a text-book on elocution, and for study by professional students."--_indianapolis journal._ =five-minute readings= selected and adapted by walter k. fobes cents =five-minute declamations= selected and adapted by walter k. fobes teacher of elocution and public reader cents =five-minute declamations= _second part_ selected and adapted by walter k. fobes cloth cents. =five-minute recitations= by walter k. fobes cents pupils in public schools, on declamation days, are limited to five minutes each for the delivery of "pieces." there is a great complaint of the scarcity of material for such a purpose, while the injudicious pruning of eloquent extracts has often marred the desired effects. to obviate these difficulties new "five-minute" books have been prepared by a competent teacher. "we have never before seen packed in so small a compass so much that may be considered really representative of the higher class of oratory."--_boston transcript._ =elocution simplified= with an appendix on lisping, stammering and other impediments of speech by walter k. fobes graduate of the "boston school of oratory" cloth cents. paper cents "the whole art of elocution is succinctly set forth in this small volume, which might be judiciously included among the text-books of schools."--_new orleans picayune._ _sold by all booksellers or sent by mail postpaid on receipt of price_ =lee and shepard publishers boston= young folks' books of travel =drifting round the world; a boy's adventures by sea and land= by capt. charles w. hall, author of "adrift in the ice-fields," "the great bonanza," etc. with numerous full-page and letter-press illustrations. royal vo. handsome cover. $ . . cloth, gilt, $ . . "out of the beaten track" in its course of travel, record of adventures, and descriptions of life in greenland, labrador, ireland, scotland, england, france, holland, russia, asia, siberia, and alaska. its hero is young, bold, and adventurous; and the book is in every way interesting and attractive. _edward gr�ey's japanese series_ =young americans in japan; or, the adventures of the jewett family and their friend oto nambo= with full-page and letter-press illustrations. royal vo, x ½ inches. handsomely illuminated cover. $ . . cloth, black and gold, $ . . this story, though essentially a work of fiction, is filled with interesting and truthful descriptions of the curious ways of living of the good people of the land of the rising sun. =the wonderful city of tokio; or, the further adventures of the jewett family and their friend oto nambo= with illustrations. royal vo, x ½ inches. with cover in gold and colors, designed by the author. $ . . cloth, black and gold, $ . . "a book full of delightful information. the author has the happy gift of permitting the reader to view things as he saw them. the illustrations are mostly drawn by a japanese artist, and are very unique."--_chicago herald._ =the bear worshippers of yezo and the island of karafuto; being the further adventures of the jewett family and their friend oto nambo= illustrations. boards, $ . . cloth, $ . . graphic pen and pencil pictures of the remarkable bearded people who live in the north of japan. the illustrations are by native japanese artists, and give queer pictures of a queer people, who have been seldom visited. _harry w. french's books_ =our boys in india= the wanderings of two young americans in hindustan, with their exciting adventures on the sacred rivers and wild mountains. with illustrations. royal vo, x ½ inches. bound in emblematic covers of oriental design, $ . . cloth, black and gold, $ . . while it has all the exciting interest of a romance, it is remarkably vivid in its pictures of manners and customs in the land of the hindu. the illustrations are many and excellent. =our boys in china= the adventures of two young americans, wrecked in the china sea on their return from india, with their strange wanderings through the chinese empire. illustrations. boards, ornamental covers in colors and gold, $ . . cloth, $ . . this gives the further adventures of "our boys" of india fame in the land of teas and queues. _sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price_ =lee and shepard publishers boston= =every-day business notes on its practical details= =arranged for young people by m. s. emery= price, boards, cents net. by mail, cents. an accurate knowledge of how to attend to the every-day affairs of a business life is, indeed, a most valuable possession. the requirements of modern business life are manifold and exacting, demanding technical information, and, besides, quite a degree of what may justly be termed "cultivation." this valuable and indispensable book covers a wide range of information of much importance, and is designed as a text-book for schools, and for ready reference for young people and those who need such instruction as it contains. it treats in an attractive and clear manner subjects which bear on every-day callings, like "letter-writing," by which so large a percentage of business is conducted; "bills, receipts, and accounts;" "post-office business," with instructions regarding late advantages and scope of accommodation; "telegrams," "express business," "united states money," "savings banks," "national banks," "bank checks," "notes and drafts," "mortgages," "investment and speculation," "taxes," "fire insurance," and "life insurance." these are topics conveying a general idea of the worth of the book--topics about which business men must know, and covering that which they who would be business men must learn. keeping relatively abreast of modern methods, the educators of our day see the necessity of imparting _business knowledge_, as well as that which is purely scientific, historical, or literary in its nature; hence, the adaptability of "every-day business" to the necessities of american schools and our progressive ways of life. =miss west's class in geography= =by frances c. sparhawk boards cts by mail cts= "after making child-nature a special study, miss sparhawk offers this little book as its result. it is designed to be used as a supplementary reader for classes in geography, and in cases of very young children as preparatory to the definitions and statements of text-books, which to children so often mean nothing. still, the author does not intend that because this book is used all verbal explanations should be done away with; and while it is designed to take the place of aimless and weary work, it is not at all intended to do away with work and substitute play in its stead. the subjects treated preclude that idea. such topics as the following require study and work on the part of both teacher and pupil: 'the horizon,' 'trees,' 'vegetation,' 'heat and moisture,' 'water-sheds,' 'sun and rain,' 'highways and barriers,' 'from the lakes to the gulf,' 'cities,' 'mountains and rivers,' and many more important topics, including the continents."--_school journal._ _sold by all booksellers and sent by mail postpaid on receipt of price_ =lee and shepard publishers boston= narratives of noted travellers =germany seen without spectacles; or, random sketches of various subjects, penned from different standpoints in the empire= by henry ruggles, late united states consul at the island of malta, and at barcelona, spain. $ . . "mr. ruggles writes briskly: he chats and gossips, slashing right and left with stout american prejudices, and has made withal a most entertaining book."--_new york tribune._ =travels and observations in the orient, with a hasty flight in the countries of europe= by walter harriman (ex-governor of new hampshire). $ . . "the author, in his graphic description of these sacred localities, refers with great aptness to scenes and personages which history has made famous. it is a chatty narrative of travel."--_concord monitor._ =fore and aft= a story of actual sea-life. by robert b. dixon, m.d. $ . . travels in mexico, with vivid descriptions of manners and customs, form a large part of this striking narrative of a fourteen-months' voyage. =voyage of the paper canoe= a geographical journey of twenty-five hundred miles from quebec to the gulf of mexico. by nathaniel h. bishop. with numerous illustrations and maps specially prepared for this work. crown vo. $ . . "mr. bishop did a very bold thing, and has described it with a happy mixture of spirit, keen observation, and _bonhomie_."--_london graphic._ =four months in a sneak-box= a boat voyage of twenty-six hundred miles down the ohio and mississippi rivers, and along the gulf of mexico. by nathaniel h. bishop. with numerous maps and illustrations. $ . . "his glowing pen-pictures of 'shanty-boat' life on the great rivers are true to life. his descriptions of persons and places are graphic."--_zion's herald._ =a thousand miles' walk across south america, over the pampas and the andes= by nathaniel h. bishop. crown vo. new edition. illustrated. $ . . "mr. bishop made this journey when a boy of sixteen, has never forgotten it, and tells it in such a way that the reader will always remember it, and wish there had been more." =camps in the caribbees= being the adventures of a naturalist bird-hunting in the west-india islands. by fred a. ober. new edition. with maps and illustrations. $ . . "during two years he visited mountains, forests, and people, that few, if any, tourists had ever reached before. he carried his camera with him, and photographed from nature the scenes by which the book is illustrated."--_louisville courier-journal._ =england from a back window; with views of scotland and ireland= by j. m. bailey, the "'danbury news' man." mo. $ . . "the peculiar humor of this writer is well known. the british isles have never before been looked at in just the same way,--at least, not by any one who has notified us of the fact. mr. bailey's travels possess, accordingly, a value of their own for the reader, no matter how many previous records of journeys in the mother country he may have read."--_rochester express._ _sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price_ =lee and shepard publishers boston= the young folks' book of poetry containing a collection of the best short and easy poems for reading and recitation in schools and families selected and arranged by loomis j. campbell author of "pronouncing handbook," "columbian speaker," etc. comprising =part . simple poems and easy rhymes= =part . select poems for school and home= =part . classic poems for school and home= complete in one volume, illustrated, cents net. by mail cents separate parts in paper covers, cents each, net. by mail cents separate parts in board covers, cents each, net. by mail cents contains upward of two hundred and seventy short poems, which are, or should be, favorites with children from seven or eight to fourteen or fifteen years of age. all the selections are well adapted for reading aloud and for paraphrasing; as an aid in practical composition, they may be made of great use. speaking pieces for little scholars and older pupils by ellen ortensia peck price, boards, cents this, in very truth, is a "rare gem of a book" of its character. in common phrase, it "fills the bill" for the exceedingly useful purpose for which it was designed. the book includes within its pages original recitations and dialogues, charades and entertainments for school exhibitions and home pleasure, with pieces for birthday and wedding anniversaries, decoration day, and other occasional celebrations. the foundation purpose of the book is grand,--the many varieties of composition, which include almost numberless methods of expressing beautiful and valuable thoughts and sentiments; the remarkable adaptability of the pieces to elevate the mind, attract the quick and abiding interest of the reader; the noble spirit; the persuasive and gentle rhythm; rich, yet plain language,--render this little volume one of substantial merit and permanent worth; and as the simple expression of great thoughts appeals to young and old alike, so "speaking pieces" will find admirers other than "little scholars and older pupils." =lee and shepard publishers boston= * * * * * transcriber's note: "synonymes" is the correct spelling in the title of the book, "a book of english synonymes." obvious punctuation errors were corrected. page , "acknowledgement" changed to "acknowledgment" (or making acknowledgment) _the polite people of pudibundia_ by r. a. lafferty _this was a world where minding your manners was more than just a full-time job--it was murder!_ [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from worlds of if science fiction, january . extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "well, you will soon see for yourself, marlow. yes, i know there are peculiar stories about the place. there are about all places. the young pilots who have been there tell some amusing tales about it." "yes. they say the people there are very polite." "that is the honorable ancestor of all understatements. one of the pilots, conrad, told us that the inhabitants must always carry seven types of eyeglasses with them. none of the puds, you see, may ever gaze directly on another. that would be the height of impoliteness. they wear amber goggles when they go about their world at large, and these they wear when they meet a stranger. but, once they are introduced to him, then they must thereafter look on him through blue glasses. but at a blood relative they gaze through red, and at an in-law through yellow. there are equally interesting colors for other situations." "i would like to talk to conrad. not that i doubt his reports. it is the things he did not report that interest me." "i thought you knew he had died. thrombosis, though he was sound enough when first certified." "but if they are really people, then it should be possible to understand them." "but they are not really people. they are metamorphics. they become people only out of politeness." "detail that a little." "oh, they're biped and of a size of us. they have a chameleon-like skin that can take on any texture they please, and they possess extreme plasticity of features." "you mean they can take on the appearance of people at will?" "so bently reported." "i hadn't heard of him." "another of the young pilots. according to bently, not only do the puds take on a human appearance, they take on the appearance of the human they encounter. out of politeness, of course." "quite a tribute, though it seems extreme. could i talk to bently?" "also dead. a promising young man. but he reported some of the most amusing aspects of all: the circumlocutions that the puds use in speaking our language. not only is the second person eschewed out of politeness, but in a way all the other persons also. one of them could not call you by your name, marlow. he would have to say: 'one hears of one who hears of one of the noble name of marlow. one hears of one even now in his presence.'" * * * * * "yes, that is quite a polite way of saying it. but it would seem that with all their circumlocutions they would be inefficient." "yet they are quite efficient. they do things so well that it is almost imperative that we learn from them. yet for all our contacts, for all their extreme politeness coupled with their seeming openness, we have been able to learn almost nothing. we cannot learn the secret of the amazing productivity of their fields. according to sharper, another of the young pilots, they suggest (though so circumspectly that it seems hardly a suggestion, certainly not a criticism) that if we were more polite to our own plants, the plants would be more productive for us; and if we gave the plants the ultimate of politeness, they would give us the ultimate of production." "could i talk to sharper, or is he also--" "no, he is not dead. he was quite well till the last several days. now, however, he is ailing, but i believe it will be possible for you to talk to him before you leave, if he does not worsen." "it would still seem difficult for the puds to get anything done. wouldn't a superior be too polite to give a reprimand to an inferior?" "probably. but masters, who visited them, had a theory about it, which is that the inferior would be so polite and deferential that he would do his best to anticipate a wish or a desire, or would go to any lengths to learn the import of an unvoiced preference." "is masters one of the young pilots?" "no, an old-timer." "now you _do_ interest me." "dead quite a few years. but it is you who interest me, marlow. i have been told to give you all the information you need about the polite people of pudibundia. and on the subject of the polite people, i must also be polite. but--saving your presence, and one hears of one who hears and all that--what in gehenna is a captain in homicide on the solar police force going to pudibundia about?" "about murder. that is all i ever go anywhere about. we once had a private motto that we would go to the end of the earth to solve a case." "and now you have amended your motto to 'to the end of the earth and beyond'?" "we have." "but what have the polite people to do with murder? crime is unknown on pudibundia." "we believe, saving their feelings, that it may not be unknown there. and what i am going to find out is this. there have been pilots for many years who have brought back stories of the puds, and there are still a few--a very few--young pilots alive to tell those stories. what i am going to find out is why there are no old pilots around telling those stories." * * * * * it wasn't much of a trip for a tripper, six weeks. and marlow was well received. his host also assumed the name of marlow out of politeness. it would have been impossible to render his own name in human speech, and it would have been impossible for him to conceive of using any name except that of his guest, with its modifiers. yet there was no confusion. marlow was marlow, and his host was the one-million-times-lesser-marlow. "we could progress much faster," said marlow, "if we dispensed with these formalities." "or assumed them as already spoken," said the one-million-times-lesser-marlow. "for this, in private, but only in the strictest privacy, we use the deferential ball. within it are all the formulae written minutely. you have but to pass the ball from hand to hand every time you speak, and it is as if the amenities were spoken. i will give you this for the time of your stay. i beg you never to forget to pass it from hand to hand every time you speak. should you forget, i would not, of course, be allowed to notice it. but when you were gone, i should be forced to kill myself for the shame of it. for private reasons i wish to avoid this and therefore beseech you to be careful." the one-million-times-lesser-marlow (hereafter to be called omtlm for convenience but not out of any lack of politeness) gave marlow a deferential ball, about the size of a ping-pong ball. and so they talked. "as a police official, i am particularly interested in the crime situation on pud," said marlow. "an index of zero is--well, if i could find a politer word i would use it--suspicious. and as you are, as well as i can determine, the head police official here, though in politeness your office would have another name, i am hoping that you can give me information." "saving your grace, and formula of a formula, what would you have me tell you about?" "suppose that a burglar (for politeness sake called something else) were apprehended by a policeman (likewise), what would happen?" "why, the policeman (not so called, and yet we must be frank) would rattle his glottis in the prescribed manner." "rattle his gl--i see. he would clear his throat with the appropriate sound. and then the burglar (not so called)?" "would be covered with shame, it is true, but not fatally. for the peace of his own soul, he would leave the site in as dignified a manner as possible." "with or without boodle?" "naturally without. one apprehended in the act is obliged to abandon his loot. that is only common politeness." "i see. and if the burglar (not so called) remains unapprehended? how is the loss of the goods or property recorded?" "it goes into the coefficient of general diminution of merchandise, which is to say shrinkage, wastage or loss. at certain times and places this coefficient becomes alarmingly large. then it is necessary to use extraordinary care; and in extreme cases a thrice-removed burglar may become so ashamed of himself that he will die." "that he will die of shame? is that a euphemism?" "let us say that it is a euphemism of a euphemism." "thrice-removed, i imagine. and what of other crimes?" * * * * * here omtlm rattled his glottis in a nervous manner, and marlow hurriedly transferred his deferential ball to the other hand, having nearly forgotten it. "there being no crime, we can hardly speak of _other_ crimes," said omtlm. "but perhaps in another matter of speaking, you refer to--" "crimes of violence," said marlow. "saving your presence, and formula of a formula, what would we have to be violent about? what possible cause?" "the usual: greed, lust, jealousy, anger, revenge, plain perversity." "here also it is possible for one to die of shame, sometimes the offender, sometimes the victim, sometimes both. a jealous person might permit both his wife and her paramour to die of shame. and the state in turn might permit him to perish likewise, unless there were circumstances to modify the degree of shame; then he might still continue to live, often in circumscribed circumstances, for a set number of years. each case must be decided on its own merits." "i understand your meaning. but why build a fence around it?" "i do not know what you mean." "i believe that you do. why are the polite people of pudibundia so polite? is it simply custom?" "it is more than that," said the polite pud. "then there is a real reason for it? and can you tell it to me?" "there is a real reason for it. i cannot tell it to you now, though, and perhaps not ever. but there is a chance that you may be given a demonstration of it just before you leave. and if you are very wise, you may be able then to guess the reason. i believe that there are several who have guessed it. i hope that we will have time for other discussions before you leave our sphere. and i sincerely do hope that your stay on pudibundia is a pleasant one. and now, saving your presence, we must part. formula of a formula." "formula of a formula and all that," said marlow, and went to discover the pleasures of pudibundia. among the pleasures of pud was mitzi (miniature image a thousand-times-removed of the zestful irma) who had now shaped up into something very nice. and shaped up is the correct term. at first marlow was shocked by the appearance of all the females he met on pud. crude-featured, almost horse-faced, how could they all look like that? and he was even more shocked when he finally realized the reason. he had become used to the men there looking like himself out of politeness. and this--this abomination--was the female version of his own appearance! but he was a man of resources. he took from his pocket a small picture of irma that he always carried, and showed it to the most friendly of the girls. "could you possibly--?" "look like that? why, of course. let me study it for a moment. now, then." so the girl assumed the face of irma. "incredible," said marlow, "except irma is red-headed." "you have only to ask. the photo is not colored and so i did not know. we will try this shade to start with." "close, but could you turn it just a little darker?" "of course." and there she was irma of the most interesting face and wonderful hair. but the picture had been of the face only. below that, the girl was a sack. if only there were some way to convey what was lacking. "you still are not pleased with me," said the miniature image a thousand-times-removed of the zestful irma (mitzi). "but you have only to demonstrate. show me with your hands." marlow with his hands sculptured in the air the figure of irma as he remembered it, and mitzi assumed the form, first face on, then face away, then in profile. and when they had it roughly, they perfected it, a little more here, a little less there. but there were points where his memory failed him. "if you could only give me an idea of the convolutions of her ears," said mitzi, "and the underlying structure of the metatarsus. my only desire is to please. or shall i improvise where you do not remember?" "yes, do that, mitzi." and how that girl could improvise! * * * * * marlow and mitzi were now buddies. they made a large evening of it. they tied one on; formula of a formula, but they tied one on. they went on a thrice-removed bender. at the betelgeuse bar and grill, they partook of the cousin of the cousin of the alcohol itself in the form of the nono-rhumbezoid, made of nine kinds of rum. at the b-flat starlight club, they listened to the newest and most exciting music on all pudibundia. at alligator john's, one checks his inhibitions at the door. here one also checks his deferential ball. of course the formulae are built into the walls and at each exchange it is always assumed that they are said. but the iris room is really the ultimate. the light comes through seven different colors of glass, and it is very dim when it arrives. and there the more daring remove their goggles entirely and go about without them in the multi-colored twilight. this is illegal. it is even foolhardy. there is no earthly equivalent to it. to divest oneself and disport with nudists would be tame in comparison. but mitzi and her friends were of the reckless generation, and the iris room was their rendezvous. the orgy will not be detailed here. the floor show was wild. yet we cannot credit the rumor that the comedian was so crude as to look directly at the audience even in that colored twilight; or they so gauche as to laugh outright at the jokes, they who had been taught always to murmur, "one knows of one who knows of one who ventures to smile." yet there was no doubting that the iris room was a lively place. and when they left it at dawn, marlow was pleased and sleepy and tipsy. there was a week of pleasure on pudibundia: swimming with mitzi down at west beach, gourmandizing with mitzi at gastrophiles, dancing with mitzi, pub-crawling, romancing, carrying on generally. the money exchange was favorable and marlow was on an expense account. it was a delightful time. but still he did not forget the job he was on, and in the midst of his pleasure he sought always for information. "when i return here," he said slyly, "we will do the many things that time does not allow. when i come back here--" "but you will not return," said mitzi. "nobody ever does." "and why not? it is surely a pleasant place to return to. why won't i return?" "if you cannot guess, then i cannot tell you. do you have to know why?" "yes, i have to know why. that is why i came here, to find out. to find out why the young men who come here will never be able to return here, or to anywhere else." "i can't tell you." "then give me a clue." "in the iris room was a clue. it was not till the color-filtered light intruded between us that we might safely take off our goggles. i would save you if i could. i want you to come back. but those higher in authority make the decisions. when you leave, you will not return here, or anywhere else. but already one has spoken to one who has spoken to one who has spoken too much." "there is a point beyond which politeness is no longer a virtue, mitzi." "i know. if i could change it, i would." * * * * * so the period of the visit was at an end, and marlow was at his last conference with omtlm, following which he would leave pudibundia, perhaps forever. "is there anything at all else you would like to know?" asked omtlm. "there is almost _everything_ that i still want to know. i have found out nothing." "then ask." "i don't know how. if i knew the questions to ask, it is possible that i would already know the answers." "yes, that is entirely possible." omtlm seemed to look at him with amused eyes. and yet the eyes were hidden behind purple goggles. marlow had never seen the eyes of omtlm. he had never seen the eyes of any of the puds. even in the iris room, in that strangely colored light, it had not been possible to see their eyes. "are you compelling me to do something?" asked marlow. "i may be compelling you to think of the question that has eluded you." "would you swear that i have not been given some fatal sickness?" "i can swear that to the very best of my knowledge you have not." "are you laughing at me with your eyes?" "no. my eyes have compassion for you." "i have to see them." "you are asking that?" "yes. i believe the answer to my question is there," marlow said firmly. omtlm took off his purple goggles. his were clear, intelligent eyes and there was genuine compassion in them. "thank you," said marlow. "if the answer is there, it still eludes me. i have failed in my mission for information. but i will return again. i will still find out what it is that is wrong here." "no, you will not return." "what will prevent me?" asked marlow. "your death in a very few weeks." "what will i die of?" "what did all your young pilots die of?" "but you swore that you did not know of any sickness i could have caught here!" marlow cried. "that was true when i said it. it was not true a moment later." "did all the pilots ask to see your eyes?" "yes. all. curiosity is a failing of you earthlings." "is it that the direct gaze of the puds kills?" "yes. even ourselves it would kill. that is why we have our eyes always shielded. that is also why we erect another shield: that of our ritual politeness, so that we may never forget that too intimate an encounter of our persons may be fatal." "then you have just murdered me?" "let us say rather that one hears of one who hears of one who killed unwillingly." "why did you do it to me?" demanded marlow. "you asked to see my eyes. it would not be polite to refuse." "it takes you several weeks to kill. i can do it in a few seconds." "you would be wrong to try. our second glance kills instantly." "let's see if it's faster than a gun!" * * * * * but omtlm had not lied. it is not polite to lie on pudibundia. marlow died instantly. and that is why (though you may sometimes hear a young pilot tell amusing stories immediately--oh, very immediately--on his return from pudibundia) you will never find an old pilot who has ever been there.